#is made of shapes go smash some together

[obsessivevoidkitten]

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Male Triceratops Hybrid Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Capybara Hybrid Omega Reader

CW: Noncon, painful to pleasureable sex, mild violence (not towards reader), time travel, sexism, breeding, impregnation, pheromones, a/b/o, musk, scent marking, scent kink, sucking on dem big man titters, biting, bite marking, claiming, exceptionally huge dick, reader inflated with copious cum, knotting

Word Count: 1.9k

(Sometimes I get stuck on WIPs and have to do something new to write again. I wrote this in two days. Hope y'all like it! Please feed me with comments ❤️)

You were an omega demi-human. Part capybara, though the only evidence of this was your soft ears. More importantly, you were a quantum physicist. Currently, you were studying and recreating what you thought to be a time travel device. Your thoughts and theories had been dismissed entirely by your peers. It didn't help at all that you were an omega. Omegas working in academia were almost universally harassed, derided, and treated with condescension. As if their omega brains couldn't work at the same level as betas and alphas.

But even if it wasn't some type of device for traveling through time it was certainly alien to the time period from which it originated. It was made of advanced alloys and components that had been flattened, buried, and heavily corroded over time. The rock in which it was embedded in was older than any ancient society.

You had been working on manufacturing a functional copy of the artifact for years. Shmoozing up eccentric rich fucks, getting help from the exceedingly few colleagues who would help you in any way, slowly analyzing every detail and carefully bringing it all together. And at long last it was complete. The zenith of your career was at hand. And after some cautious testing that you conducted privately, it was ready to show to others.

You managed to get a spot at a small conference, though you had lied about the subject on which you would be speaking, and by the time it was your turn most of the audience had left. Not many academics cared what an omega had to say. Let alone one with a reputation for being a crackpot. But there were still enough of your fellow scientists and this would all be on video.

Instead of introducing the topic of your presentation, which would be a surefire way to lose what people were still watching, you opted for wheeling out your machine onto the stage and stepping in. With a deep breath, you booted it up and the entire contraption disappeared with a flash.

When you exited the machine there was an immediate problem. You stepped out of the machine into a forest with giant trees and flowers. You had only intended to go back a minute to when your presentation started but had made an error. You turned around to step back in but something pulled you backwards by your rear. You fell back and saw before you a humongous man charging at your time machine. He wore only a ragged fur loincloth and swung a massive club. He looked human except for his size, thick tail, scaled arms, and three horns on his head. One large horn from each temple and a small one extending from my nose.

You looked on in horror as he swung a mighty club down upon your only way back to your own time, repeatedly smashing it down until it resembled the exact shape of the artifact that had been excavated in your time. The relic that you had fashioned your own machine after. That wasn't what your attention was on, however. You were much more focused on getting away from the raging beast of a man who could flatten metal so easily.

Though with his task of destroying the frightening affront to nature that had appeared from nowhere now complete, he turned his attention to you. He shouted at you in a language you didn't understand, though his intent was clear. He had a massive erection sticking out from his loincloth and aggressively sniffing at your neck after picking you up with unexpected care.

With exertion of great willpower, the trike-man managed to not breed you silly right there in the forest. Your pheromones were driving him nearly feral. Modern-day omega pheromones were many times more potent than any prehistoric omega. They had evolved through millennia to pique the interest of choosy alphas despite the steep competition, an evolutionary arms race to try to snag an alpha.

That wasn't the only appealing trait. You were exotic, had cute little furry ears on your head, and you were so small, couldn't fight back and act all defiant like the omegas from his time.

You did struggle though. You had seen his arousal and could still smell it. Almost anything would be better than being violated in such a manner by such a hulking brute. He chuckled at your struggles, they were successful only in tiring you out. On the long way to his lair, between your squirming, kicking, and punching, you had gathered that his name was Orryg. At least you thought it was. He did not speak English, but he gestured at himself and seemed to be trying to give you his name.

He found your struggles kinda cute, mistaking them for an eagerness to escape his grasp and get on with taking his cock already. Omegas were so silly.

"Don't worry. Going to breed you plenty. Better in a secluded place."

You had no idea what he said, but his voice was deep and sounded angry so you could only assume it was something in annoyance at your struggles so you went limp. The giant man could snap you like a twig if he wanted to, best not to make him too upset. And honestly, even if you did escape, where the fuck would you go? What if Orryg wasn't the worst thing prowling about in the time period?

The walk went on for a while, with Orryg giving you an occasional lick or mumbling out some words you didn't have any hope of understanding. After a fair amount of time, Orryg stopped to sniff the air. Suddenly there was a roar from behind.

Orryg turned the two of you around just in time for him to take his club and smack it into a man who was every bit as huge as he was. Swatting him away easily despite being similar in size and build.

This one had sharp teeth and clawed fingers. He spat blood and growled. Orryg regarded him with a scowl.

"Udvik! You know this is trike territory!!"

"Omega smells good, not claimed yet. Thought I'd try..."

"Go before I smash you! This is MINE!"

Udvik spat again and hobbled off. But your suspicions had been confirmed, there were definitely things other than Orryg to be worried about in this time period. You were pretty shaken up seeing a half-dino man jumping at you and watching your captor fight him off. With those teeth it had clearly been no herbivore, it probably would have slaughtered you. Your fear must have been evident in your scent because Orryg held you tighter and nuzzled you.

"That battle got my blood flowing, really need to fuck you. Sorry if it scared you, I'll breed you all better. Almost home."

You continued to have zero idea what the hell he was saying. But you figured with the nuzzling it was something comforting. Though your ability to figure anything out was pretty absent by this point. Your brain was soup. All the anxiety and adrenaline and alpha pheromones had finally gotten to you. You looked at the ground in a stupor as he continued to carry you over his shoulder.

The next thing you were consciously aware of was him entering the cave with you and placing his club at the entrance. He laid down on a slab of stone covered in thick layers of soft furs and placed you on top of his muscled body. Before you had any chance to react he began administering attention to your sensitive neck. You squirmed involuntarily, writhing in pleasure on top of him from the neck stimulation alone.

If that wasn't enough, you were practically drowning in his musk. You had been since you entered his dwelling, the cave was saturated in it, but now he was forcing your head under his arm and making you drink it all in. Smearing your face with it and marking you with his smell. Slick was leaking out of your needy hole and pooling on his abs.

"I knew this would make you feel better."

The trance you were in was only partially broken once you felt the blunt head of his much too-large member press against your hole.

"W-wait! I don-"

But he had no idea what you were saying, and even if he did he knew you'd love his dick so much that you wouldn't protest for long. At this point, you were going to be his... no matter what.

You yelped in pain as he pressed into you, spreading you like none of your toys ever had. He swallowed your shout by pressing his mouth into yours, trying to distract you from the pain with a sloppy kiss before attending to your neck again. Despite every instinct telling him to just ram in and ravage you he restrained himself knowing that doing otherwise could seriously injure you.

"Ah!"

Even with his care it still hurt as he slowly eased his prick all the way into you, he rubbed the outline of his cock through your tummy. Lucky for you omegas were extremely stretchy and pliant.

Orryg slowly thrust back and forth inside you as he hungrily took in your scent. As more precum dribbled into you and mixed with your slick you took him easier and the pain slowly began to ebb away and was eventually replaced almost entirely by pleasure. You moaned softly into his chest as you bit at his pec and sucked his nipple while he kept digging his cock into you.

Your whole body shook and spasmed for a solid minute as you came more intensely than you ever had before. Orryg grunted as the feeling of your body convulsing around him brought him nearly to his climax. The trike man upped the pace just a bit, his heavy balls smacking into you before he started knotting inside you and pumping you full of his virile spunk. One small mercy was that his knot was only a bit thicker than the rest of his cock, not over two times as wide like a modern alpha.

The volume of semen was such that it made you look heavy with child, which you certainly would be after lovemaking like this.

Now that you had been well and truly fucked there was only one thing left for your brand new "husband" to do to really seal the deal. He, with great caution, buried his fangs into your neck to mark you permanently as his to everyone who might see you. Which would be more than you might expect. This was Orryg's outpost, he stayed there while on patrol, but he usually lived with his herd.

It would be a hard adjustment for you to make. You would constantly be under Orryg's watchful gaze or the guard of his tribemates when he went to go hunt or if he went to do things too dangerous for you to be with him. You'd never be alone. Even in the safety of the herd, Orryg would obsessively treat you like something fragile. You would have to adjust your diet to what they ate, mostly fruit and vegetables though they ate meat too, though nothing was familiar to you. You would have to slowly learn their language so you could eventually communicate with the new society that "adopted" you.

But it was okay if it took you a while to get settled, you had all the time in the world.

[submalevolentgrace]

Hi! I'm very interested in attempting to write a disabled character (not for this blog, I assure, for an book I'm writing) in which the story doesn't fetishize/objectify her prosthetic limb. I'm in many writing circles and have been for a long while, but I've never seen this issue brought to light which I realise is a very important one. I have much to change in my thought process, and thank you for bringing this issue to attention.

I'm curious, and I apologise if this has been asked before, but what sort of design could you see for a functional prosthetic that doesn't go for a plainly aesthetic appearance, or is soully to please others? I do note that you said prosthetics are generally... not that helpful. So is there a way that it could be? Or do you think it would always generally be better to not use a prosthetic, as its mostly for aesthetic purposes, as you said?

I apologise if this ask is too outright or anything, and I don't mean to intrude. Thank you for your time and have a beautiful day!

okay, i want to answer this as in depth as possible, because whenever i talk about having a prosthesis, someone will always tag some variation of "#writing reference" and i do wonder what message they're taking away, and i want to get as much of my experience out as possible to maybe help shape how this is all portrayed in the future. and yeah… this is gonna be one of those rambly smg posts that the expand feature was invented for, so i'll start with the very abridged TL;DR:

if you're writing a character with an upper limb prosthesis; don't. arm amputees are unicorn level rare even compared to leg amputees, and i've never interacted with or even heard of an upper limb amputee that regularly uses a prosthesis, let alone relies on one. fiction has lied to you for the sake of cool aesthetics, don't repeat the cycle. more in depth writing advice including nuance and "but i waaaant to" will follow.

that said, grab your donning parachute and let's get started...

context for everyone involved: i am an upper limb amputee that rants a lot about how prostheses suck, i lost my right hand roughly five years ago at roughly the age of 30 after a very rough decline in health… it was pretty rough. this question is being asked in the context of a previous rant post of mine, and i checked that the ask is about an upper limb prosthesis in particular.

the situation regarding the usefulness of lower limb prostheses is totally different; i am definitely no expert, but by all accounts, prosthetic legs are incredibly useful for many people. getting a good leg can be absolutely life changing and more or less necessary for day to day life for some; mostly because infrastructure and society is just so fucking hostile to wheelchair users. being able to walk - at the cost of pressure sores and rashes and increased residual limb pain - is a preferable option to many people than being unable to fit through a doorway or in a bathroom stall or find out that the key to unlock the only elevator is in the admin office up three flights of stairs (true story).

but upper limb prostheses… see, the thing is, hands are incredibly complex organs that rely on a lot of immediate haptic feedback to work at all. hand dexterity is all about control, you need fine granular movements of the digits yes, but you also need the subtle sensations of pressure and proprioception in order to adjust your movements on the fly. i speak from experience, in the years leading up to the full loss of my hand, i was slowly losing function of it, usually swinging between numbness that made it clumsy at best, or screaming overstimulation from moving it at all resulting in unpredictable spasms… and let me tell you, a half working hand is infuriating to try and deal with. you can never know if you have a good grip on something or if it's slipping because of the wrong amount of pressure, and there's only so many smashed bottles of pickles on the floor before you give up using it all together… so amputation wasn't a great loss there, i had time to adapt.

a prosthetic hand of any kind has all of those issues and more. they're heavy and bulky, the cosmetic faux fingers or gripping claw have crude movement at best, and there's zero feedback (put a pin in this). 100% of the time you're using a prosthetic hand you have to keep your eyes on the grip and visually guesstimate whether or not the thing you're carrying is held tight enough but not too tight, that is if your "heavy duty" prosthesis can even support the weight without the servos disengaging or the wrist attachment socket just busting loose. i dropped a whippersnipper on my foot last week when my socket couldn't take the weight and i think that was the final straw in me desperately trying to prove to myself that there is a single task my prosthesis actually helps with.

this is usually where fully two handed people start talking about bleeding edge DARPA tech, and how we just need to invest more,research more, develop more. better tech, more tech, neural integration, more more more. okay i promise the writing advice is coming! for starters on tech, my experience is already with a mid-to-high end ottobock terminal device: i've got a myoelectric nerve-signal operated proportional control heavy duty greifer; about the only upgrade left for me to get would be a rotating wrist joint if i could coflex. it's not military, it's not "rockclimber that owns a prosthetic company", but it's quality tech. it still fucking sucks. secondly, that high level military tech exists primary for PR purposes so they can say they treat their discarded casualties well, "we can rebuild him, we have the technology" style. every war vet i've read about or heard from that's been gifted that high level tech also abandons it for the same reasons; it's imprecise, there's no feedback (or the haptic interface has to be fully recalibrated every time they put it on), but mostly they're more capable without one.

okay, the transhumanist ableds say (i should know, i used to be one), what if we did more ~research and development~ and got that neural feedback working? then we could have fireproof superhumanly strong robot arms to fix up everyone! here's where i take out that pin we put up before and i tell you that a class of prosthetic arms/hands already exists that has perfect proportional control, fine motor control, and physics perfect pressure feedback piped directly into the patients' existing sensory systems! they're called body-powered prostheses, and they were invented in like the 1600s. you strap a whole bunch of stuff to your arm and shoulders shoulders, and control the operation of the terminal device and elbow through cable tension by flexing your shoulders. they do take a considerable amount of training to operate - though hell i spent 18 months training to use my myo - but based on everything i've read, body-powered prostheses are the best option if you're an upper limb amputee and absolutely need a second hand for some reason.

but they don't look cool and futuristic, and according to my prosthetist, most people give up on using them too. we all give up on our prostheses, no matter the type. my rehab OT was impressed i lasted the 18 months of my training. towards the end, they even asked if the clinic director could drop in to one of my sessions to see my progress; he expressed genuine amazement at me casually using my bulky robot claw to use a brush and dustpan, and made an offhanded (hah) comment about what someone can achieve "if they stick it out to the end", implying it was somewhat of a rarity for me to have done so. several years on, and yesterday i wedged the dustpan between my ankles to sweep up into it, awkward but exponentially less effort than putting my dusty robot arm on. which, by the way, is a whole thing. look up some videos, they're all awful to don. i don't actually know the official technical name of what my clinic calls a "parachute" but it's a bitch to use! have you ever tried to pull back with your arm whilst also pushing it forwards at the same time, and simultaneously lean in to and away from an external force pulling on you? that's how you get a myo socket on.

bare with me, i promise writing advice is coming, and i promise it's more than the tl;dr. but. remember when i said a half working hand is infuriating to deal with? any prosthesis, from fancy myo tech to pirate-era body powered, will only ever be half as good as a working hand, and being juuuust within capability to do something but not quite able to is maddening! but you know what works way better than a half working hand? no hand at all. using whatever residual/vestigial limb you have - whatever "stump" you have, i hate that word - is pretty much always better than trying to use a prosthesis. i can use the inside of my elbow to grip and carry things, i can use the nub of my arm to apply pressure to hold things, open doors, use a computer mouse, turn on taps and lights, if i put a glove over it i can use it to prep for cooking. i have full proprioception and pressure feedback with skin contact, i don't think i've ever dropped and broken anything from my elbow, unlike countless things slipped from my greifer - which, by the way, absolutely will start clenching as tight as it can if i get even slightly too sweaty around the electrodes, which has both broken things i'm holding and also injured me, because surprise surprise but servo operated robot claws have pinch points on them right near the "emergency disengage" lever for some reason!

but i am exponentially more capable without it on than with it. no, i'm not fully independent, i rely on housemates and loved ones to help me out with some tasks that simply just need two handed dexterity, but none of those tasks are things a prosthesis makes me able to do anyway. i used to imagine my prosthesis would be like a bra; a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but i'd wear it throughout the day because it's helpful and take it off in the evening to decompress. in reality it's actually exactly like a bra: an absolute bitch to put on one handed, unbearably uncomfortable because it never sits right, ugly af unless you're a millionaire, and absolutely useless except for the fact that i get gawked at and judged by strangers if i leave the house without it on.

and if you really want to discover how far "no hand is better than a half working hand" goes, brace yourself, and look up the patient's stories (not medical system stories) of people that have had hand transplants. the first man to receive one hated it, he was promised a return to normal function, and what he got was a nightmare worse than being one handed; he wanted it removed again but the doctors refused because it would undermine their grand achievement of the first hand transplant. the doctors and society wanted him to be fixed, they wanted him to be normal, they wanted him to be abled. they failed. they made him less able to do things, denied his autonomy, and left him with someone else's hand slowly rotting on him, prioritising the idea of "scientific progress" and "two hands good" over the physical health, mental health, and ability to function of this man.

he's not alone; every story from the patients' perspective about hand transplants that i've read goes this way, including a woman who was born quad limb different and was promised hands would improve her life, pressured into a double hand transplant, only to find herself after the surgery essentially experiencing disability for the first time ever, because she had lived her whole life getting by just fine with her 'underdeveloped' limbs, but half working hands are worse than useless. you can try to find these stories yourself, but i'm not going looking for sources on any of these cases, because if you look back through enough of my posts you'll get a glimpse of the horrors and abuses that i too was put through by doctors who prioritised trying to "fix" me at any cost, rather than providing me the best quality of life, and in turn traumatised me and left me more broken than any loss of limb on its own could. dear goddess, i promise the writing advice is coming.

so. why do upper limb prostheses exist at all? if they're so terrible and useless, what is their function? i want to borrow something someone else left in the tags of a previous rant here, from someone who i believe works in prosthetics and/or rehab, cleaned up and anonymised at their request:

"upper limb functions are wildly more complex than: 1) bear weight static, and 2) bear weight moving. but every single upper limb amputee i know has a fancy expensive prosthetic just gathering dust in the closet because there is literally nothing it can do like a few years of adjustment and if needed non-dominant hand retraining can't do. the existence of forquarter prosthetics to begin with is just kind of silly and useless and entirely to make OTHER people feel comfortable, especially considering they universally are UNcomfortable for the amputee. i hate the notion that as soon as you get the amputation the prosthetic is The Thing That Will Fix You And Make You Feel Normal again because it universally isn't! but every forequarter person i know had like this ideal of Being Fixed By Magic Prosthetic that they were then obviously wildly disappointed by and had to do yet another grieving process with, versus if the dominant narrative were just one of: yeah. it'll take time, there is no magic fix."

and i think that really nails down what the actual purpose of upper limb prostheses is: they're not for the user, they're for the sake of other people. and not just their comfort when looking at our bodies, although based on the pressure for both amputees and people born limb different to get functionless cosmetic plastic hands, there is a lot of that. but it's not just that.

i fully believe that the reason prosthetic hands exists is to comfort the fears of the two handed. "don't worry", they say, "we can fix you again. you don't have to fear becoming Disabled, you don't have to worry about adapting or your life changing. we can make you Normal™ again."

you would not believe the number of people that have approached me to shower me with pity, to tell me how horrific my life is, how they can't imagine it. people have told me, apropos of nothing, that they'd kill themselves if they lost a hand. indirectly, that my life isn't worth living. unless, of course, i happen to be wearing my cool as fuck looking robot prosthesis! then they tell me how wonderful it is, how lucky i am, how glad they are that we have the technology to fix me. that's what a prosthetic hand says, what all the happy fishing photos on limbs4life posters at the rehab clinic say: don't worry, we can fix you. that's what the bleeding edge DARPA flexi-whatever fully articulated neuro-feedback hands say: don't worry if you get IED'd while hunting civilians for us to drone bomb, if you get hurt, we will fix you, we will fix the fuck out of you, we will motherfucking adam jensen you into a cool as fuck cyborg that your son will idolise; come on boys, don't you wanna enlist just for the chance at being as cool as this? join the bomb squad for a ticket to the upgrade lottery.

and so we arrive at fiction. as much as his dialogue options protest, adam jensen loves his robot arms, they punch through walls, turn into fucking swords! they make him the most special man in the world. what would he do without them? learn to cope? grieve? practice acceptance? take up poetry? just, be disabled? there's no power fantasy for ableds in that.

in fact, can you think of a single fictional character that's an upper limb amputee that's, well, just an amputee? they all have robot arms. not realistic prostheses, not medical devices; robot arms. sleek or bulky, top of the line or broken down self built, steampunk or nanomachines or magitech automail; they're never without them. never just an amputee. never born limb different either! there's always that element of tragedy to overcome, always suffering and misery porn, always focus on the pain and the helplessness without the absolutely vital robot arm that makes them Normal and Whole. the closest amputee example i can think of is furiosa from mad max, who iirc fucking punches max in the face with her residual limb like a motherfucking badass! i can barely lean on mine wrong and she punches a guy! but she still apparently needs a dieselpunk robot hand to drive a truck, something you can do one handed so easily most drivers don't even notice they're doing it! please don't, by the way

and so many disabled fans love to point to robot armed characters as disability representation; the winter soldier, luke skywalker, edward elric, misty knight, that genderswapped furry girl from ratchet and clank, jet cowboybebop, finn the human, and yes, adam jensen…. these are all characters that someone disabled i know has told me they love because they "represent disabled bodies"…. and i know nobody wants to hear this, because i've been screamed at for saying it before, but… they do not. they are not disabled, functionally or within fiction. they are either perfectly able bodied Normal people with chrome paint on an arm, or tortured misery porn we are supposed to pity and feel lucky we're not them. sometimes both!

also you ever notice how it's basically always arms? lower limb amputations are orders of magnitude more common than upper, my prosthetist said i was probably only the 4th or 5th upper limb she'd worked with in her career, with literally hundreds of lower limb fits. but fiction doesn't seem to reflect that, huh? or any other part of the reality of disability. it's always cool as fuck robot arms, never cool as fuck wheelchairs or crutches or dialysis machines or colostomy bags. a fair few "i was blind but now i can see with Robot Eyes and also infrared and xray" around, which again, plays into that "we can fix you and make you cooler" propaganda.

by the way, up above when i was describing body powered arms, if you wondered to yourself why i went with a myoelectric one instead when i clearly believe body powered is better… yeah. i am not immune to propaganda! i too wanted to be cool as fuck. i spent years with deteriorating function in my hand for reasons that are still unknown, was misdiagnosed and medically neglected to the point that removing my hand seemed to be the only option left to offer some relief, and even that was a clusterfuck that left me worse than ever… of course i wanted to believe in the power and prestige of a cool robot arm that fiction promised me.

but fiction promises fantastical lies. and so.

we get to the writing advice portion of the novella that is this post. you asked for advice on how to write a disabled character with an upper limb prosthesis. you've read the tl;dr, you've read everything above i assume, you know i don't want you to do it. the obvious twist is that it's been writing advice all along, me trying to share my perspective on what it's like being an amp with a robot arm and how shitty it is, implying how almost any fully realised and realistic character that's missing an upper limb would give up on a prosthesis at all. you can already tell that every value judgement in me says "don't give her a prosthesis, no matter how functional or cool you make it. don't try to make the tech better to justify it, just let her be one armed, one handed. just let her be disabled, but not helpless. let her show off her elbow or underarm carry strength. let her love interest appreciate how soft and squishy her residual limb is in a moment of tenderness. let her natural disabled body be respected and valued."

but that's a personal value judgement from me, and you are the author of your own work. i know it's trite to say, but you are! even the act of deferring to someone with lived experience in the hope of doing a better job at representation is a value judgement, a good choice in my opinion, but one you needn't necessarily take. maybe you do want to write a character that has a cool as fuck unrealistic robot arm as a power fantasy, or a comfort blanket… i did.

i've been slowly writing my own probably terrible scifi epic for over a decade now, and when my arm was giving me hell back then, i'd take great comfort in this fantasy of my protagonist with her chunky robot arm, the terrible traumatic suffering of her loss, overcoming, the power and ability her advanced prosthesis gives her over others, that she alone has access to, because others are not willing to make the sacrifices required. inspiration porn. awful stuff to me now, but empowering to me then. as i grew and gained direct experience, i slowly reimagined her, rewrote her, ship of theseus'd her into an entirely new character; a reflection of me now, bitter at the whole thing, spiteful that her natural flesh arm evokes fear and distrust, but unwilling to suffer the pain and frustration of her unnatural prosthesis just to make others comfortable and respect her as "whole", however artificial that whole is. and as with the ship of theseus being two ships, once i realised the transformation, i re-added the old protagonist back in whole cloth as a separate character; proud of her robot arm and its power, but in new context, as a foil and antagonist, an in-universe military prosthesis propaganda figure to reflect how i now feel characters like her exist to us, the readers.

i'm not just sharing that as egotistical self promotion, but to highlight that, even if i sit here begging you all up and down not to write characters with robot arms for how bad and unrealistic they are; there's still something genuine and true that their inclusion can say. the great thing about the story that you're writing is that only you can write it, as they say. but i whole heartedly believe that to write to your best, you have to be aware of what you're writing and why. as tempting as it is to feel these characters form naturally in us and therefore we're averse to changing traits about them that feel organic and self evident; as authors we have omnipotent control over the text, every trait and detail is a reflection on us, so we'd sure as hell better understand why we're choosing to write a character with this trait. because anything you write without being aware of intent will take on its own meaning in the space between.

and on that note, if i don't say this, i'm leaving it to be inferred: i definitely don't want to appear to come down on the side of saying "you cannot write an amputee unless you are one", because we are rarer than single young bisexual unicorns! and it would be a tragedy if anyone read through all this and then turned away in fear, deciding to never write an amputee character (with or without robot arm) because they feel they can't do it justice… believe me, no matter what anyone says, some hack writer somewhere is going to keep writing adam jensens and winter soldiers. don't let them be the only voices in fiction! just try to do your best.

so my ultimate advice on the topic of writing a character with a prosthetic limb is to ask yourself one question in two different frameworks, and meditate on what you feel the answer is:

why does she have a prosthesis?

from a doylelist perspective as the kids say, as an author with omnipotent control, why are you choosing to write about this topic? why are you choosing to give this trait to this character? what does it say about how you view ability and disability, what makes a person normal, and what our society values? will you let her be in her natural body? or will you give her a prosthesis, force her to wear it by authorial fiat, or author her a meaningful reason to choose to? if yes, be sure you know; why did you give her a prosthesis?

and from a wastonian perspective, diegetically, inside the story, why does she choose to wear a prosthesis? what does it say about her inner character, and how she interacts with the world? how does she feel about doing it, is she prideful and loves the attention she gets, or does she resent whatever necessitates its use? how do people in this world view ability and disability, what does this society value? and above all, whatever the answer to these questions, whether or not she uses a prosthesis or is badass without one, how does she deal with the eternal freezing cold that every amputee ever feels constantly in their residual limb and why does nobody make a heat pack that fits over a nub without drafty gaps???

i can't outright tell you how to write a good upper limb amputee, but if you at least know why you're writing one and for what purpose, you're on track to write the best character that you can. that's the best advice i can give… other than, like, this whole rambly mess.

and, as a reward for reading this far, please have a very blurry cryptid photo of my cat doing his old man sit:

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Sano Shinichiro - "I Just Love Pathetic Guys"

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In which I've made an imagine about how pathetic Sano Shinichiro is and how I think pathetic guys are actually really freaking hot adorable. I just so happen to have a thing for losers and Shinichiro is probably the hottest loser in both the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime.

                                                                                                   

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Imagine; he's talking to his friends about how he was yet again rejected for the nth the time now. You just so happen to be nearby and overhear his sad announcement; listening to his friends tease him about how he scares women away.

Imagine; you approach them after a few moments, when they've switched topics to something unrelated. You take his hand and write your number on it; only saying "call me sometime" as you wave goodbye and walk away. He'd be too stuck in the shock he felt to stop you and ask your name.

Imagine; you receive a call from an unknown number as soon as you step foot in your house. And when you pick up the phone you're met with his timid voice, asking if you're the person who gave him their number twenty minutes ago.

Imagine; instead of directly answering him, you somehow rope him into describing you and your first interaction. Hearing him trip over his words as he tries to keep his composure over the phone and seem proud an manly.

Imagine; you get him to practically beg you to allow him to take you on a date. You can't help but laugh how pathetic he is and you tell him so, but you 'agree' to go out with him anyway.

Imagine; he tales you out to eat and keeps reassuring you that he'll pay for everything but in the end, he doesn't have enough money, so you end up paying it in full instead. You can see how embarrassed he is and as bad as it makes you seem, damn do you relish in it.

Imagine; that during the rest of the date he somehow embarrasses himself in some way, shape or form. He can't even look you in the eye at this point and he walks at least two feet behind you, unwilling to try and lead you anymore lest he make even more of a fool out of himself.

Imagine; he drives you back to your place on his bike in silence, too scared to say anything just in case he has a slim chance of seeing you again. He stops in front of your place and you get off his bike, immediately turning to your front door. But, instead of going inside, you set the things he bought you down at your doorstep and walk back to him.

Imagine; that instead of letting him get the first word in, you tell him how much of a loser he is. You can see how deeply it affects him by how sad he looks, but you're not done talking.

Imagine; you take a fist full of his hair and yank him down for a kiss, smashing your lips together. You tell him how he's your exact type and how hot he was today. That he had better take you on another date or you'd kick his ass.

Imagine; you go into your home and you can still hear the hum of his bike's engine from outside. He's still sitting in fron of your house in complete shock. That is... until you hear a loud but muffled "Yes!" from outside.

Fuck. How can someone so pathetic be so damn hot at the same time? You couldn't wait until the second date.

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[eustasskidagenda]

Hi! I love your writing! Can I ask some headcanons with Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Law et Luffy going to the beach with their S/O, please?? Tysm!

Hello sweet anon! Thank you for requesting, it was fun to write. Hope it will match your expectations ☆

☆ Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Luffy & Law going to the beach with their s/o

CW : g/n reader, funny, fluff, Kid is cursing but I guess no one is surprised, Kid is a savage, really vague mention of sex for Sanji, slight cursing for Zoro + mention of alcohol,

WC : 2,3k

Kid

Heavy stomps, mumbling curses, regular sighs and grunts full of irritation. Yep. It was your idea to go to the beach. Kid would never go to the beach by himself because he hates all the screaming children and the sand between his toes. And, the sun could ruin his make-up. So he would act all grumpy, wondering what he has done to end up in such a situation. 

"Goddamn, y/n, come back, you didn't put your sunscreen" Of course Kid thinks about his skin all the damn time, he's such a beauty-influencer when it comes to make-up and skin care. If you neglect to apply sunscreen to your body, he will bark at you, grab you by the wrist, and do all the work himself. And then, you'll have to help him, especially when it comes to applying sunscreen to his back. He won't let you know he loves when you run your hands down his back and along his always tensed shoulders. 

"I've seen this place before you, fuck off!" While planting violently your parasol on the ground, barking to the poor innocent guy who tried to set his stuff at the place Kid noticed in first. "It's my beach."

He's so possessive with everything, help.

Actually, Kid likes one thing about the beach: he can brag about his big man boobies. No shirt, just his glorious bare, toned chest. Every time someone looks at him with jealousy or admiration, he feels so proud; his ego is never satisfied with this. He's perfectly aware of how shaped his torso is, and he's really proud of it. 

Every time someone looks at your body, he feels really pleased with himself. Even if they try, they won't be able to have you. But on the flip side, he's also upset when he realizes that everyone can see your beautiful shapes. His arm would be wrapped around your waist. All. The. Time. 

Kid being Kid, he would smash all the sandcastle made by the children. Prepare yourself to get in trouble with all the mad parents around there, while their children are crying because "the big scary man told me I'm a piece of shit who don't even know how to build a sandcastle" You better watch Kid tightly before he stuffs their mouths with some sand to make them shut up.

"Come on Kid, it's just a child." 

If you try beach sports, he will make everything a competition. Avoid playing volley beach with him, because if you team up and lose, he will smash the ball into the winner's face. "Now who's the loser?" 

If someone tries to sell him an ice cream, he would scowls madly. Does he look like someone licking some fucking ice balls full of sugar? Ugh. It's so ridiculous. 

He doesn't wear armbands because he thinks he's too good for them. "I don't care if I can't swim, I won't use those damn armbands." 

Honestly, Kid hates how weak he is in the water, so he would stay away from trouble. The ocean makes his voice weak, even his strength is leaving him. And, even if his eyeliner is waterproof, he doesn't want to risk ruining his make up. "I fucking hate water" 

Would end up using his DF to find some metal around and build something with it while you're swimming. It looks like he doesn't care, but secretly, he watches to make sure you're safe. And if you're drowning, then, he'll run to save you so yes, congrats, now you're drowning together. 

Luckily, Killer is not too far.

Killer deserves a break.

Sanji 

Oh, damn... going on a beach date with Sanji is not a good idea. All the women in swimsuits would overwhelm him. Sanji, as he is, wouldn't be able to handle all the women around him, even though you are the prettiest of all the people around.

But the moment you take off your clothes and replace them with your swimsuit, his eyes would be on you all the time because you're the most mesmerizing person in the whole universe. 

He's so proud to introduce you as his s/o to absolutely everyone, yes, even that one person sleeping peacefully under their parasol. "Have you seen how beautiful y/n is?" 

Of course, he would help you apply sunscreen to your skin. Enjoy the massage because his hands are so heavenly smooth and divine. He would clearly take advantage of the situation to place some soft kisses along your collarbone, shoulders, neck, jugular, and down your spines. 

It's clear that Sanji brought his own food to the beach. You can enjoy fresh drinks, ice cream, waffles, cakes, fresh salads, and juicy fruits just for you. He wouldn't let you buy some ice cream from the trader because it's probably disgusting, full of sugar and chemicals. Your body is a temple and cannot be contaminated by non-premium quality food. 

He's probably causing the parents to be angry because he's smoking. But Sanji is nice, so if it was asked politely, he wouldn't mind stubouting his cigarette. 

While you're tanning under the parasol, Sanji is probably laying next to you, with a book explaining all the fish he could buy in the town. 

If you decide to go swimming, of course, he's going with you. As the kind person he's, he wants to make sure you're safe, and if you uncomfortable with your body, he wouldn't mind using his own body as a shield, so no one but he can look at you. 

He's a pure romantic, so prepare yourself for some lovely hugs in the water, with him holding you tight and his hands roaming all over your wet skin. Sweet kisses on your neck. He's not against taking things further, but he's romantic and all the screaming children are ruining the mood. But during the night... yes, he's definitely not against swimming at midnight. 

And if he finds some ugly, green, gummy seaweeds, then, he'll take them back to the Sunny. "Marimo, don't let your children alone at the beach."

Zoro

"Oi, y/n, where are you?"

Well, have you already seen Finding Nemo? Remember about Marlin always asking "HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON?" Now, you're Marlin and Zoro is your Nemo. 

Do not leave him alone for more than two seconds. Do not leave him buying ice cream for the two of you. Otherwise, the date is ruined. The only thing you will do is ask everyone 'Have you seen a big man with big boobs and green hair?' 

Maybe he'll find the one piece before the end of the day.

"I wasn't lost, your indications weren't clear." 

Zoro's obliviousness means you need to pay close attention to him. Stay close to him and everything will be okay. He's in good shape, so people are probably looking at him with admiration, jealousy, or whatever thoughts come to mind. But he doesn't give a damn, and is probably thinking people are looking at you because you're mesmerizing in your swimsuit. 

He doesn't care about the people wearing swimsuits around him. It's not an event for him. "I won't nose bleed like this shitty twirled-brow." 

He thinks the beach is a good opportunity to train himself. While you're relaxing under the parasol, he's training in the sun. Burpees, push-ups, and even some yoga are used to work his breathing and stability. 

Once he's done, he's all sweaty and wants to swim a bit. If you don't follow him, he'll be swimming until he finds a new island. 

If you're too lazy to swim, he'd be okay with carrying you. If a jellyfish tries to bite your thigh, then, the poor creature is doomed and would end up as a dinner for the crew when you'll get back to the Sunny.

He prefers alcohol over ice cream, of course. It's the best thing to enjoy after swimming and training. While he's drinking, he likes when you rest your head against his chest. On the other hand, he's a bit flustered because Zoro cares about his privacy. But you're too cute, he can't push you away. 

Arms wrapped around your waist while you sleep together. Perfect date for Zoro: training and restlessness. No one would dare trying to steal your stuff because Zoro is used to standing guard on the Sunny, so he would react really quickly. 

At the end of the day, he got the biggest sunburn ever because he forgot to apply sunscreen. Poor Zoro.

Luffy

It's like going to the beach with your overly excited dog. 

He's yelling excitedly, jumping everywhere, laughing loudly, and oh, good luck, he's already running away. You tried to catch his wrist, but it just stretches his arm beyond its limits. Good luck in finding him. 

Well, honestly, if you want to find Luffy, just try to figure out where the food is. He's probably eating some waffles and ice cream, or more precisely, emptying all the stands of their food. 

"Oh Y/N, you're here?" He speaks with his mouth full, obviously. 

Luffy is selfish with food, but he would let you have the last waffle because he loves to see you smile. 

As Zoro, he doesn't give a damn about people in swimsuits. 

If a child has a better rubber ring than him, he's sad. "Y/N, we need to buy a better one! What about this one?" While displaying an extravagant beetle rubber.

He's so happy, with it. Prepare yourself to pull him out the water because while he's watching to find some fish or play with some seaweeds, he would end up falling overboard like the overexcited child he's. 

But drowning wouldn't destroy his joy. Be ready for the sandcastle episode after the rubber ring one. He wants to build the best one. But have you seen his nonexistent artistic skills? His creations wouldn't look great, that's all we can tell. Please, help him building a pretty sandcastle, he's so sad. Poor baby.

"Don't get a sunburn, y/n." While lending you his straw hat. 

"Y/N, have you seen those crabs? Y/N, have you seen how funny this seaweed is? Y/N, have you seen this stone? Oh, Y/N, this cloud looks like Zoro, don't you think?" 

He wants to catch all the crabs and winkles he can find. And would probably end up organizing a crab fight. If his favorite one loses, then the poor baby will be sad again. He's so fluffy when he pouts.

He is eager to try and do everything with you. So you better follow him, because going to the beach with Luffy means you'll never be able to rest peacefully under the parasol. He's too energized to sleep peacefully. 

And if you're sleeping, he would bury you under the sand, so when you wake up, your body is totally covered up, the only thing you can do is moving your toes and head while Luffy laughs loudly and proudly. His laugh is so endearing, you can't be angry with him.

"Gum-Gum… ice-cream stolen" 

Prepare to run away from the guy who is mad at him.

Overall? Not relaxing at all, but funny as hell.

Law

If Luffy is like an overexcited dog, Law is like a cat forced to bathe. Have you already tried bathing a cat? Do you end up with scratches? It's nothing compared to Law.

"Bepo, don't sharpen your claws on the deck!" "What? But it's not me. It's Law, Y/N decided to bring him to the beach. They had to drag him to the ground. 

Yes, Law probably hates the beach. It's a noisy place with noisy people, the food smells bad, the children are annoying, and the sand is irritating. And please, the sea is like the toilet for the fish and all those disgusting people. He's so pissed off to be here. 

"Why me, Y/N-ya?"

"Aren't you happy? The sun is beautiful today! You need to take some breaks from your work." 

His sole response would be an annoyed scowl. 

Ain't no way for him to wear a swimsuit. He's conserving all his clothing, even the hat. And he's standing under the parasol with his arms crossed. All the people around are probably avoiding him, and that's for the best because a 'room, shambles' could happen really fast if they dare to make a comment about his non-appropriate clothes. 

Law would remind you to apply sunscreen on a regular basis.  And he wouldn't mind applying it himself. He loves the feeling of your skin against his palms, it feels like heaven. 

He would remind you to drink water frequently. And to wet your neck before swimming. Certainly, he's watching closely the entire time. He may be mad, but he cares about you. Prepare yourself to have a shadow following you everywhere. If you're too far from him, he'll use his DF to bring you back to him.

"Please, help me, my child needs a doctor!" He's annoyed as hell. Even at the beach, work is still pursuing him. Of course, if someone asked for a doctor, he would help. He's frustrated because he can't take care of someone and keep an eye on you at the same time.

If you give him onigiri, he will look like a child: pouting while eating silently. 

"Y/n-ya, don't touch this, it's a toxic seaweed.", "y/n-ya, come here, you have to stay hydrated."

He would lend you his own hat if you forgot yours, while he's standing under the parasol. "Do not lose my hat." 

No swimming for him. He'll stay away from the cursed water. Just like Kid, ain't no way for him to wear armbands. And if you Try to throw some water on his face, he would look like a wet cat: shocked and angry. Beware, he yowls.

Overall? You had fun. And even if Law acts annoyed all the time, secretly, he would love to have a break day with you.  On his desk, he would keep the beautiful shell you found on the beach and give it to him.

[levilaughlove]

☁️► Heads up : M x m romance, cheating/disloyalty, mentions of emotional abuse, manipulation & gaslighting. Reader is taller than Levi by 3 in. Mentions of mental breakdowns & indecent language & ofc, smut.🗞 > Chapter 2

You woke up in a familiar bedroom. It's Levi's. You have a warm cloth on your head, the room has a heater set to a comfortable temp, & the smell of a vanilla candle was just enough.

"Welcome back to Earth." Levi says sarcastically, looking at you. The memories of how you got here flood back & your eyes water in anger & distress.

"You just got better. You were in bad shape..." Levi says cautiously as if he wants to add to that. "Go on..." You say, not breaking eye-contact with his unusually nervous person.

"You don't have to tell me now — or at all if you don't want to, but, what happened? That's the worst I've seen you.'' Levi asks, trying to keep an unbothered suit but the concern was there. You finally break eye contact and let out a tired breath. "She lashed out again. She waited for me in the living room." You stopped, not wanting her to seem more bad than she already is.

Silence rings through the room before Levi speaks up. "There's more to that. I know you, what else?" He says sternly. You stay silent.

"You shouldn't feel obligated to save her ass every time. She fucked up her reputation herself, you didn't do that." He adds. All you do, is nod in agreement but didn't audibly agree. "Also..."

"I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up. Was it a bad time or was it the heavy ass rain?" Levi asks, curious. "No she, she smashed it. My phone that is...that's what triggered the panic attack. It was just so loud."

You reply ashamed. You felt childish for the confession but it was Levi &, you confide in him. Levi looks at you with anger, but you know its not directed towards you. "That bitch, it pisses me off and i've never even SPOKEN to it." Levi glares, lost in unconscious, angry rambling.

Levi stopped, realizing how awkward it was for you. "I.." Levi began.

"I just want you to know, I'm not one to be sentimental or whatever the shit..." He continued, a tad bit embarrassed. "But, I care about you, so much. She's a cunt for how she treats you..you deserve much better. Even if it were for a minute, y'know, I could treat you better than she could in 7 centuries. I can treat you better." Levi uttered.

You were stunned, it was like a confession but you weren't sure if Levi had quite registered that he basically confessed his feelings about you. "Levi..." you murmured, an unexplainable joy rises in your chest.

Levi is looking down to his slightly fidgeting hands. He hasn't found the courage to look back up to you just yet. A hand sneaks under his chin & raises his head to meet your face once again. "I really understand how you feel, i'd love to reciprocate but..she is my wife. I'd be cheating. I don't...cheat." You say.

"One can label you a cheater all they want but more importantly label her a murderer. She killed a bright soul & that is unforgivable. My (M/n)." He said. "Pea."

Your heart dropped into your ass, he remembered. He remembers the best moments of your shared lives. It all made sense to you now. A breath of fresh air. It just. makes. sense.

"I've never said anything like this to anyone before." Levi Says. "— I don't need an answer now... I'll wait for you." he adds.

"Absolutely." You finally answer. "Yes, a million times."

Levi's stone cold expression has a hint of relief. You lean in, connecting your lips together.

"A million—times—Yes." You say in between kisses. He loves the way your lips feel, he has some unspeakable things he wants to do to you but won't say it, of course. Levis hands sneak to your waist, pulling you underneath him.

His hands roam your lower half, ever so slightly teasing your cock through your sweats.

" s-so good, vi. " Levi's face heats up, the way you get him worked up is concerning. You pull Levi closer, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing your manhoods together.

Levi moans & soft grunts in your ear. The friction makes you both hot and bothered, a faint wet spot can be seen on the head of both of your sweatpants. "I'm gonna take such...good care of you, (m/n)" Levi breathes out. "Flip." You obey and turn onto your stomach, lifting your ass in the air. Y'know, easy access. Levi eagerly slides your sweats down along with your boxers at once.

His breathing gets a bit heavier upon seeing your puckered hole, eager to be fucked. He guessed this was his reward for all his patience. You wanted to be filled so bad, never before had you ever had a desire this much. Everything boiled up to a point & you were ready to feel healthy love. Healthy love making.

You look back to Levi, eye full of desperate pleading. "I need it, I really need it, vi'...p-lease..." That sent him over the edge. "Oh, (m/n)."

Levi rammed his cock into your ass. A heat rises into both of your stomachs. Levi leans down & hugs you tight before pulling out and slamming back in. "Oh, hhnn." Fuck, you hadn't felt this much pleasure in a while. You feel his cock roughly pounding into your prostate, lewd fluids leaking onto the bed from your sex. Your cock hanging, the sheets below grazing your slit. Levi's hands tighten on your waist, more near your groin.

Levi listens closely to your voice, paying attention to your arousal. He gets off if you're getting off. "H-ghk! F-fuck Levi.." You choke out. Levi picks up his pace, wet slapping of his groin to your ass, your sloppy hole convulsing around him tighter by the second, driving him closer to orgasm. "(M-m/n) you're—) Levi just barely whispered. Tears fill your eyes once more, eyes low & slightly rolling back, body flushed. You let out a moan of immense pleasure, eyes now shut tightly. Levi blushing intensely at you. He has such a crush on you.

Levi slows his pace as to not overstimulate you.

"K-keep going, Levi.." You say breathless.

"B-but...you just—" "I need you to fill me, as deep as you can, vi'."

Levi breathes deeply before, once again, pulling out & slamming in. Your moans in union sound beautiful, your heads are hot, the bed creaking slightly, wet slapping of your jointed bottom parts, then it happens.

Levi loads into you, holding onto tighter than ever, ropes of cum spur onto you chest, your second orgasm. Levi's cum is much more than if he were to jerk off.

After you both fall from your highs, Levi pulls out, watching his cum drip from your gaping hole. You close your eyes & catch your breath. Levi rests his body on top of yours. After a while, he speaks. "You 'kay?" Levi asks, caressing your hair. "More than okay, we're filthy though." You reply. "A filthy i've longed for, for a long time." Levi murmurs into your ear. A small, content smile appears on your face.

The second beginning of something beautiful.

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 3 ~

He's Still in There: Part 1:

Yes, this is two-parter. I tried to make it into one singular chapter, but with more characters being introduced and everyone's timeline starting to connect, it seemed to drag. I personally can't stand long chapters due to my own style of reading, so I had to break this up.

TW: Body Horror and blood.

Part 4:

A stinging in Muir's left eye quickly turned to pain. He groaned through gritted teeth, and his nails dug into his skin around the socket. It was unbearable and impossible for Innes, Sunil, Scooby, McLurg and Dobbie to ignore. The men watched Muir fall to his knees. He tried to stand but fell again; landing in a puddle.

The pain spread across his body. His arms and legs were heavy. His head felt like it was going to explode. His heart was racing, and every vein began to pop through the skin. Muir hunched over and pulled himself inwards as his body became tighter. None of the men could see what was happening, but they knew someone was wrong. No one could bring themselves to touch him, especially when they saw his hair begin to fall out under his hard-hat.

On instinct, Innes dialed for help. You had to when someone was hurt. But Davros, the crew's doctor, didn't answer. Like Muir, his heart was racing and his body tightened. When Caz answered by the 3rd attempt, it was a huge relief, but the panic and anxiety still ran through his head. Innes was known to be a man who never lost his composure, even in a high-stress work environment such as The Beria. But that's because he knew what he was doing. This entire situation was unknown to the man, and that terrified him.

'Who's that?'

'It's Caz, Innes. I-'

'Caz. Thank Christ. I-I need your help. I dunno what to do-' The echoing noise of bones cracking and yells from the others made Innes' stomach drop. His blood ran cold. He looked over his shoulder and his face turned pale. 'S-Somethings happening to him. He's...'

Muir's entire body blew open. Blood poured into the puddle. His ribs burst out of his side, twisting like tree branches. The muscles consumed his body. His left eye clouded and sunk to his nostrile as more eyes clumped together grew as a replacement. The lower half raised itself upwards. Strange legs, similar to a spider-crab began to grow, lifting the still turning Muir off the ground.

'OH NO!'

Sunil grabbed and yanked Innes away as a tendril smashed the phone, cutting off all connections. The others had already ran for the nearest storage container and were waiting with baited breath. Except for Scooby, who had long since vanished.

'Come on,' Sunil growled. He tugged on Innes' sleeve to have him pick up the pace. He knew he was faster than this. That's because Innes was transfixed on Muir, who had noticed him running away. He reached out with his right arm, only for it to dissolve and fall off. In its place grew a fleshy mass shaped after a crab claw.

'Innes. Where yer going?'

The pair made it inside and McLurg began to push the door shut.

'INNES!'

SLAM

The minutes passed by. A fog set in over the deck. Rennick's voice crackled over the speakers.

'All personnel, this is an evacuation order. In case I wasn't clear enough the first time, that means; get to the helipad NOW. It's your responsibility to get there, and we will be leaving with or without you. So move it.'

Innes, Sunil, McLurg and Dobbie sat against the cold metal of a storage container, all too scared to breathe. Muir's howling and loud footsteps made it easy to know where he was, but that didn't ease the tension. Dobbie held his legs close to his chest. Any sound from Muir caused him to flinch.

McLurg broke the silence with a whisper. 'What happened to Scooby?'

'He took off when Muir -' Sunil couldn't find the words. How could he? How could he explain what just happened? 'When he - I think when Muir's hair began to fall out.'

'So the brat abandoned us?'

'Give him some peace, Lurg. He's probably the smartest one here.'

'But he's not here, Sunil. We're trapped.'

'And hopefully he got away to find help.'

Their voices were beginning to rise.

'What help?! Who's going to help us?!'

A bang from either falling metal or Muir caused the men to go quiet. All held their breath and waited.

'You're all cruel bastards, ya' ken that?'

This entire time, Innes never spoke a word. The container had a small gash from Muir's attempt to break in, becoming a makeshift window. He never looked away. He watched as Muir's body continued to mutate. His hair fell out yet his beard remained, teeth exposed on the left-side by bursting through the skin, the flesh gripped his hard-hat, the other arm dissolved and was replaced with a claw, and finally his dried out innards dangled inches above the ground. Innes didn't know if he should cry or be sick, but he was slowly coming to the conclusion that there was nothing he could do. He looked away and began to accept defeat.

'Innes...? Where's Innes? Just need help, eh?'

Innes let out a shaky breath and his shoulders deflated. Muir was calling for him. Was he still in there? If he was, then Innes really was a cruel bastard. Leaving someone he was supposed to be looking after to suffer alone. He didn't want that. The decision was made, even if it meant risking his own life.

'Right, lads. I'm going to talk to him.' There was a pause. Sunil, McLurg, and Dobbie stared at Innes as if he was the one who grew an extra set of eyes.

'Excuse me?' McLurg asked with a cracked voice.

'I'm going to talk to him,' Innes repeated. 'You three stay here and when I have his attention, get to the crew lift.'

'H-he'll kill you,' Dobbie stuttered.

'We don't know that, Dobs. Just get to the crew lift.'

'I'm all alone...'

Innes didn't wait for someone to hold him back. He scuttled out of the container and moved through the fog. It was thick, but Muir's silhouette was easy to spot. He watched Muir aimlessly clamber over containers and metal pipes they unloaded a few hours ago. He was clumsy in his movement, the newly transformed body was trying to find balance, even with the support of the tendrils.

'No one wants to help me...'

Whilst Innes was observing his friend's mutation, he did pick up on something. Muir knew they were in the container. McLurg literally slammed shut in his face, yet he was still looking for them. Was this a trick? Had he forgotten? Was Muir confused? He hoped it was the latter.

Innes said a small prayer, followed by a 'fuck,' then stepped into the fog.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Times Jack&co were in Y/n's videos

main masterlist

jack hughes x commentary youtuber!reader universe

note: the videos Y/n films is completely inspired/stolen from Brittany Broski, from 'brooke and conner make a podcast', as well as moments from the sturiolo triplets :) go check them all out if you haven't yet, they're all very funny

Since Y/n had just moved in with her boyfriend and his brother, none of her furniture was with her, and therefore she couldn’t film in her new office, unless she wanted to sit on the floor. So she made sure it was alright with both brothers if she could film in the living room. The two hockey players of course said yes, not having a reason not to.

“‘Why don’t you believe Italy is real?’”

Luke had just walked in to get water from the kitchen, not thinking anything of it as he listened in on his brother’s girlfriend’s video.

“Okay, ‘Italy’” Y/n says, making a quotation motion with her fingers, “There’s no way a country is actually shaped that way. That is the dumbest shape I have ever seen. Italy is filled with a bunch of goofy little guys too, number one being the Pope.” She says, both Y/n and Luke bursting into laughter.

“What the fuck?” Luke laughs out looking towards Y/n.

“Sorry about him. Anyway… I wish Italy was real.”

-

“Listen to me. The best post nut clarity-” Y/n gets cut off by her boyfriend laughing, while entering the front door with Luke, both back from practice. Y/n getting a “WHAT?” from Luke.

“Ignore them- the best post nut clarity is quitting a job you hate, you just think ‘what the fuck was I doing?’ trust me, quit your job. Next question.”

-

“My supreme court- it’s gonna be like a March Madness type of thing and, hey, maybe I don’t know what that means by the way.”

“You don’t know what that means.” Luke says, from his spot leaning against the kitchen counter, not looking up from his phone.

“Don’t listen to him. We’re gonna do a March Madness thing-”

–

During Y/n’s first visit to the Lake House, Trevor asked if they could do the deaf, mute, and blind baking challenge. And of course Y/n said yes, together they got Jack to agree, as long as Trevor was the mute one.

“I need a towel.” Jack says, his hand covered in egg yolk, and being blind he couldn’t exactly grab it himself.

“Whisk it, love.”

“A towel.”

“Whisk it.”

“Baby, a towel.” The hockey player said, over pronouncing his words, hoping his girlfriend could read his lips. Trevor was just listening, while grabbing the whisk himself and whisking the batter.

“Whisk.”

“Babe. A. Towel.”

Y/n gives a confused look towards, what she calls their peanut gallery, looking towards Quinn for help. He points towards the towel for her.

“Ohhhh. Baby just say that.”

-

While Y/n was helping a blind Jack wash his hands, Trevor decided it would be best for him to pour the batter into the cupcake trays. All the while getting the batter seemingly everywhere. After drying Jack’s hands, Y/n turns around to see Trevor trying to clean up his mess.

“What the fuck?”

“What?” a clueless Jack asks, “What he do.”

“He got batter everywhere, it’s crazy because you’re not blind. So in theory you should be able to do that.” Y/n says, causing Trevor to nod along.

–

Also while on the Lake House trip, Trevor asked to film a podcast episode with her, which included all the guys. Y/n had to have some structure for the episode or it would just not be usable, the guys would talk over each other. 

“Would you rather never cut your hair again, or never cut your toenails again. Never cut your hair obviously.” Y/n said, reading the questions off her phone. 

“Yeah, hair.”

“Hair.”

“Never trim toenails again.” Trevor said into his mic. 

“Trevor. What?” 

“I would file my toenails.”

Y/n rolls her eyes, before saying, “I- yeah.”

-

“Smash or Pass Smurfette?”

“Pass obviously? She’s a 2 inch Smurf”

“Nah, Smurfette lowkey-”

The group turns to look at Luke, mouths dropped, as Y/n says, “We simply have to move on from that.”

-

“Ketchup or mustard? Ketchup. But you really hate ketchup.”

“Yeah.”

“He hates it so  much, if it’s even close to his meal, he won’t eat it.” Luke cuts in.

“Okay, so how close to your meal could ketchup be where you would still eat it?”

“...Baby tomatoes.” Jack says, before all the boys burst into laughter, Y/n still laughing while saying. “Jack baby, we’re talking distance, sweetheart.”

-

“Can I ask you something?” Cole asks Y/n, looking from over Trevor. 

“Yeah.”

“Who are your top celeb crushes?”

“Just three?” Cole nods, while Y/n needs to think, “Have to be Harry Styles. Duh. Then… Florence Pugh, I love her, and Andrew Garfield.”

“Now fuck, marry, kill those three.”

“No.” Y/n says immediately, causing the guys to laugh, “No… Okay, Marry- No! Kill… I can’t. We have to move on or the rest of the hour will be me sitting here thinking about it.”

-

“So what do you know about hockey?”

“Trev, to be honest, I can’t say I know much. I know that…”

“So that answers that.” Quinn says, after Y/n pauses for a few moments.

“No, I know somethings, I know that there are only five guys allowed on the ice, plus the goalie. But you know that.”

The guys are quiet for a moment assuming Y/n will name a few more rules she knows, but Luke speaks up when she’s still silent, “You don’t know much, huh.”

“Okay, what do you know about Digimon? We all have our areas.”

-

“How much money have you spent on Digimon cards?” Quinn asks, from the end of the couch, Jack between them.

“I spent $6,000 on one blister pack.”

“Are you serious?”

“That’s insane.”

“God.. So you’re like a full blown nerd.”

“Thanks Trevor.”

~taglist~

@inejghafawifesblog

[partycatty]

liu kang > in the new era

reader used to be a sweetheart and hero in the previous timeline, but something changed this time around.

warnings: :(, i'm a bit of a yapper in this one

notes: idk this one kinda flew off the handle but i had a vision

masterlist <3

•liu kang creating everyone with the strength and humility he carried in thunder god raiden's honor following becoming keeper of time

•he made everyone beautiful, everyone worthy and capable of good, honest work and for that he was proud

•of course, some of them strayed from the ideal path and sought to increase their strength, but perhaps it was always in their character to conquer. that, liu kang couldn't change.

•but you... it was you that he least expected to abandon that honor you always had.

•you were a good fighter, an honest worker and a force to be reckoned with when it came to kicking shao kahn's ass. the shaolins looked up to you. the shirai ryu used you as an example. the lin kuei knew not to fuck with you. the special forces practically begged you to lead their army alongside the Cage-Blade family.

•he could have had you, the romantic attraction was heavily implicated. but alas, the only time you two interacted was during a horrific Koliseum brawl or otherwise breaking bones.

•the last time he saw you was before his battle with kronika. you said you hoped to see him after the battle, and perhaps get to know each other sometime.

•he was sad to see that version of you erased from existence, but you were absolutely first on his list of people to shape. it felt wrong at first, to create you from nothing like the god he was. but he wouldn't be able to make a perfect world without you.

•when he came to your home to recruit you, he was nearly winded with your beauty. you looked just like he remembered, but with an innocent sparkle in your eyes, the eyes that were yet to see murder and magic. skin that wasn't stained with deep red blood. clothes that were neat and ordinary.

•you were always so curious, so willing to step in where you were needed. so it came as no surprise when you asked the fire god where to begin to defend earthrealm.

•months of training passed, and you naturally found that fighting skill. you joked about how it must be in your blood to know how to fight, and liu kang would hold his tongue, his eyes staring down at you with that deep feeling of loss and longing. he would simply smile and innocently agree.

•the time came for you to confront shang tsung in his laboratory and take him in for questioning. you went with the other earthrealmers, yet found yourself naturally leading the way.

•kenshi lost his eyesight, johnny got his shit kicked in, and kung lao got clotheslined. you were the only one of the group to remain conscious. shang tsung inspected you closely, claiming that you were just what he was looking for.

•you go missing for over a month. liu kang gets the help of the royal family despite their lack of knowledge about the mission in the first place. everyone is searching for you, and he has to resist the urge to burn down every forest and smash every boulder until he finds you.

•the hunt for you turns into a search for your body, as most presume you dead. it brings a heavy blanket of depression over the earthrealmers and liu kang.

•liu kang spends far more time than usual in his personal quarters, meditating with a tense posture. how could he let you get away from him? it nearly drives him mad, missing you dearly, but he wouldn't be able to express it. you were your new era self, with no clue about your previous self.

•the mourning only lasts so long before an all-out timeline war begins, and liu kang has to shove past the grief eating away at his godlike heart and gather the titans and heroes of other timelines to band together and defeat titan shang tsung.

•liu kang stands at the foot of the pyramid, fists clenched and jaw shut tight. behind him are hundreds, thousands of pure-hearted titans, ready to combat evil. the tension only grows when titan shang tsung saunters into view, a dark aura surrounding himself.

•"there is nowhere to run, shang tsung," liu kang shouts upward at his mortal enemy, channeling his anger of his lost love. "nowhere to hide. we have banded together to rid all timelines of your evil. the threat you pose to them ends today. in all timelines, the arc of history bends toward justice."

•"such certainty, liu kang, that this battle will end in your favor," shang tsung replies with a devilish smirk, a peculiar confidence radiating from his words. "in this timeline, it bends toward me."

•and from behind shang tsung, you walk out, eyes dark and wearing armor that resembles an enemy. your mind had been corrupted by power. after being captured, you were passed onto titan shang tsung, who knew of your strength and potential from the previous timeline. he filled your mind with ideas of power and endless possibilities at the cost of betraying Earthrealm.

•liu kang does not often feel physical emotion, but seeing you in that moment crushed him. his stance faltered and his arms lowered to his sides. the once innocent glimmer he saw in you was now gone.

•liu kang fights his way up the stairs, sending various evil versions of his friends into the green, hellish pit. he knocked the glasses off of dark star cage, beat kitana kahn into submission, and even took down a fiery scorp lao.

•when he makes his way up to the top, winded but still ready to battle if needed, he feels that pang in his chest return when he sees you stand beside shang tsung in a fighting stance.

•"please... i do not wish to fight you," liu kang tries to reason with you with a hint of desperation. "it is not too late to return to the light."

•"i know of your deceptive behavior, fire god," you reply with a nasty tone, mind corrupted by shang tsung's lies and delusions. "i will not hesitate to take you down."

•liu kang really, really did not want to fight you. he couldn't even use the defense that you weren't his (y/n). but you were. you were from his timeline. he made you, and fucked up. bad.

•all he could do was stand there, fists clenching and unclenching rapidly as he debated his options. but all the while, he held eye contact with you and your snarling face. you looked at him like he was a villain, because you were convinced that he was.

•for the first time in eons, liu kang wondered if resetting the timeline would be best. he knew he shouldn't, he saw what the power did to kronika. but god, it had never been that tempting until this very moment.

[adoregojo]

candy ˚ 𖧧 ₊

wowowowo a rin ficcc (kinda short tho) warnings ➥ kiss

"I brought you some candy."

the voice of your boyfriend rang you out. he steps in your shared apartment after he took his shoes off carrying a plastic bag with what it looks like some candy and other items you asked him to bring on his way home.

he takes off his black jacket hanging it besides your own, ruffling his dark green locks of snow as he walks up to you. you notice he was wearing you two rabbit matching socks, the same socks he claimed it looked ridiculous and he'll never be seen wearing them.

it was cold at this time of Tokyo yet rin was willing to freeze his butt just to get your needs, even if you told him that he can get it later he had a damn thick skull and refused to take any other objection from you.

you shifted to the side with your laptop for him to sit beside you, he quickly spread in hands in a silent request for you to warm it up for him. so you gently warped your hands in his, rubbing your warm hands against his freezing once than locking you two fingers together.

"you really didn't have to go all that way for some silly stuff." you said, pressing a little peck against the back of his hand.

"you said you were carving something sweet.." rin pulls his hands away from yours, not in a harsh way. but he fears you'll somehow will hear his rabid heart pounding.

rin didn't like the cold, but it was more that he hated how it made him feel. lonely and lost, abandoned with no light to guide him to end up dying slowly. what he hated the most that it was the opposite of you, you were warm, he felt the safest in your arms. like the light was holding him.

you, you were the bright light in his coldest winter night.

he placed the plastic bag on the table, you in a swift snatched the bag to see what's inside, you raised in brow when you got a grip of an unfamiliar candy. you twisted it around to check the brand.

but overall it didn't look that bad, and didn't matter that much as long as he brought you something. "aww, rinnie, you didn't have too." a teasing smile draw it way on your face.

"shut up.." rin muttered, he felt the tip of his ear getting slightly hot at your words. "I didn't find your favourite so I brought this." he brushed off the bashful remains.

"the cashier said each one has it own flavour."

"woah cool.." honestly it looked cool, the mixes colors between red and rainbows with a cute cartoon character as the logo.

you existentially opened it. you hummed in unsureness of what to pick of too many colors with different tastes, so you just closed your eyes and picked randomly. rin was grateful your eyes were fully closed to not witness the fond smile at your silly act.

"I'll take this one!" it was a yellow one, without thinking twice before you threw the candy in your mouth.

"how'd it taste?" rin asked as your face slowly turned into a grimaced expression. he almost let out a laugh. almost.

"mmm..it's probably banana..but it tastes more like a rotten one." it wasn't that bad but the taste just wasn't for you.

you thought maybe taking a different tast would cover over this one flavour.

"let's try this one-"

before you could your words, a pair of cold lips smashed into yours, your eyes widened and you couldn't process what was happening when the soft lips against yours didn't mercy you and you felt like you were gonna faint. as rin took advantage of your flabbergasted state to slide his tongue through your slightly parted lips.

you felt dizzy as he kept digging deeper until he could feel the shape of the candy. he didn't back off immediately, refusing to break the kiss just yet. he locked his mouth with yours and you felt like you couldn't run away when it felt so good. tangling your tongues and he tasted like the same candy yet something more sweet something heavenly you couldn't get your fingers on. your hand run on his chest, you didn't know if it was for him to continue or to back him away.

he was mindlessly devouring you like starved man and you could feel the lack of the air, you were too foggy to care and all you mind was about rin, and the warmth blooming in your chest.

feeling you were out of breath, rin breaks away resulting you two to part, drawing a streak of saliva. a remains from such a shameless kiss.

for a second you two faces are still close almost as if rin was holding himself back from kissing again you endlessly, at this closeness you could count his pretty under-lashes as you let out a few breath before rin shifted back to his position.

"you're right, they taste a little rotten. but they taste better now." rin said calmly, as if he did not just suck the life out of your mouth a second ago, you tried to get a grip of yourself. you wondered what the hell was that. it's not like it was bad, fuck no, that kiss made you feel like floating.

you glanced at your boyfriend to see his neck and ears burning hot, at leats your weren't the only one who was taken off by that.

hehe, people kissing.. have a nice day everyone :3

[louebel]

— [ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐌 .ᐟ ]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × f!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 2002 wc, softdom!law, explicit sex, breeding + mating press, praising, slight dacryphilia, mentions of overstimulation, usage of "good girl, sweet girl, sweetheart, baby, pretty" and other pet names, established relationship, ur both so in love, ends with sweet fluff since i felt super soft,, dividers and mdni by @ benkeibear !! 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you and law are all alone on the tang, the crew busy with exploring the island you just docked in. he was free, you were free... you decided to have some fun for the night. (... its straight up smut i should've just said that)

"O—oh, fuck — Law, wait! — oh God!—"

Pathetic and needy whines ruptured from your throat, the sinful and wet noises of his skin smashing against yours echoed in the room, his fat, throbbing cock slamming in and out of your tight cunny. You couldn't help but shut your glossy eyes as he kept rubbing your warm and gummy walls, imprinting his shape lushly in your soaking hole.

"Ah ah—aaah! Oh, ooh, p—please wait, Law!—"

It was so, so so hot. Just some minutes ago everything was fine, the two of you simply cuddling while you pampered his handsome visage with fondles and kisses… Then all of a sudden you're going at it for hours, sweating, under the enticing mercy of your lover; his flexed forearms on either side of your head. Your hazy eyes wandered daggily around his face, chest, abs, arms, breath hitching as you tried admiring his muscular frame — oh, oh, he was just going so fast, oh, so harsh, — and his tattoos, the ones he carried so proudly, the ones that looked so, so wonderful on him.

Heavens, he was enthralling, you just couldn't, you couldn't look away, his glistening skin, those coarse, mesmerizing grunts that just kept on escaping his luscious and alluring lips — the same lips that made you so depraved and needy, so absolutely messy.

Hectic, sultry puffs of air brushed your heated cheeks, his mouth, slightly parted, inches away from yours — a relentless pace, heavy balls smacking right against your round rear. Tongue wetted his labra and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, pectorals, abdomen, oh, everywhere…

"Fuck, baby — c'mon, you can take it, take it for me sweetheart, c'mon," his erotic mumbles could barely be heard, your overpowering wails going straight to his pulsating member. Deep grunts matched your shuddering mewls, the crown of his swollen tip skimming just off your palpitating folds, letting them rest… Before bullying them open again with his rigid length, ripping a cry from you. He kept your legs bent with his tatted hands, folded in half beneath him; exposed and vulnerable. Your arousal coated his shaft and dripped down your thighs, the heady scent of sex strongly inhaled by your nostrils, mixed with your and Law's own musk.

"I—I can't, I can't!—"

"You can, pretty girl, you can — for me, mhm? Yeah?"

"H—haaah! B—but, but..! Law, aah!" oh, shit, you just had to call him with that tiny voice, didn't you? And that cute, quivering pout struck his racing heart, fuck, a groan of pleasure escaped him before slobbily smashing his moist lips on your puckered ones, dancing together while he shoved his wet muscle in your mouth; yours barely able to move as he assaulted your oral cavity. His goatee prickled your chin, only making you whine more.

"Yes, yes honey, yeah, oh — like that, fuck, so damn tight, so fucking good baby, oooh yeah," he crooned, those grey eyes admiring every slight twitch before closing in ecstasy, huffing and showering your face with kisses as he drove his own high like a desperate, mad man, his only objective being mating you, filling you, making love to you — you were his precious sweetheart, his love, his everything, all his, oh, all his! —

"A—ah! Mmmh, yes! Ooh, please — Law, hon, r—right there!"

— and your lilting, cloying pleads only urged him further, thrilled to make you complain so so sweetly, your submissive little sounds on repeat in his ears. Your hands, clawing at his back, etched crescent moon marks on his tense muscles, scratching and gripping his tacky physique as the light of the candle shined upon his proud, inked jolly.

With each push, his lush and veiny shaft stretched your rosy and greedy lips, abusing your delicate labia as his pelvis smacked your sensitive pearl, so good and deep that it made you shudder, twitch, tremble, an adorable little mess under him, one he couldn't help but ruin even more. Tears welled up and blurred your vision, tiny sobs tearing from your sore gullet; Law immediately soothed you, nudging your heated face, the gesture tender though the bed creaked and grated at the force of your intense copulating.

"Oh, pretty, don't cry, m' gonna give you all of my cock, it's okay sweetheart, baby," you keened even louder at his dulcet coos and promises, making you clench around him more; his tone, so soft, so lovely, did not match his brutal thrusts. He was going to give you all of it, empty his plump balls right inside your cute little cunny. Gonna paint it white and pretty all for you.

The thought made the thud of his veins mightier, biting his lower lip and rolling his pelvis profoundly, the mushroom head drooling pre-cum; making you squeak at how deliciously it flicked your cervix.

He could feel it. How you tautened, quivered, your breaths building in a crescendo.

He smirked, half-lidded grey eyes gazing at your lewd expression, spit dribbling down your chin, and translucent drops staining your cheeks — panting for more, more.

That's his precious girl.

"Mmm, sweet girl, gonna cum? Yeah? Can feel you. Ohh, yeah, gonna cum so hard for me, won't you? Make a pretty mess on my cock? Hm? Hmm?" his smug grin widened, sliding a hand down and spoiling your sweet, small nub — sending sparks all over your wracked shape as his rough, nimble thumb cumulated gooey nectar and circled it briskly. The squeal you let out was nothing more than delectable, his raven locks dishevelled and sticking to his front.

"Y—yes, yes! P— please please please, please! Law! P—please, gonna, g—gonna—! Hnghh, f—fuuck!"

A pleased purr thrummed from his chest, using his bulk and frame to cage you further and not letting you move — meant to completely take him. Your eyes crossed in ecstasy, spasming and clenching around him while he whispered his filthy little praises, cradling you close, clammy figure caressing another. Long fingers pawed your wobbly thighs, clamping involuntarily as the pressure in his loins doubled; oh, you were so cute. Tensing up so much, hiccuping and moaning — just like he wanted you to.

His brows creased, instinctively gritting his teeth at how savory everything was. The pace got sloppier and sloppier, testicles churning as the thick cock you were so addicted to, the one that "fucked you dumb and got you drunk", pulsated in anticipation.

"Oh honey, yes, yes, cum on my cock, fuck, 'm gonna fill you up, shit, baby, you deserve it all, take all of it..!" you whimpered and he groaned, his hips stuttering tensely, abdomen flexed, "Like that, shh, I got you, there you go, good girl, such a good girl, yes—" squelches so loud and soppy, so succulent — dirty but loving phrases tumbling off his tongue, both your profiles inches away from each other, ardent breaths mingling together,

"Taking me so well, 'm gonna pump you full with my cum, gonna— hhngh, gonna k—knock you up, honey…"

"So pretty… Love you so much baby, love you so much!—"

"C'mon sweetheart, you can take it, I know you can, you're a big girl, aren't you? For me, for me?"

He almost whined, and his raspy, needy timbre was the last straw, rendering you a broken, babbling mush — the man unable to hold back any longer, needing to just spill himself all in your precieux pith, yes yes yes!—

"L—Laaaaaaw! M' close, s—so so close! Hhnnngh, pleaaase, please please please need your cock 'n cum so so bad! G—gotta cum!"

"Yes, baby yes! Fuck, fuck, take it take it take it! Shit, cream—ahh cream all around me honey! Oh, ooh, g—gonna cum, gonna cum! Gonna cum 'n that pretty pussy! Fill you up! Ohh yes, yes! F— fuuck! Ah—aah..!"

spurt! spurt! spuurt!

(See? You could take it. Plenty of it. He knows just how to fuck your greedy cunt. He knew you better than yourself.)

— and a copious load of creamy, scalding semen stuffed you full, brimming over, squeaks and a long howl of satisfaction reverberating off the walls. Law's thighs teetered and contracted firmly, lashes fluttering while laborious gasps slipped out of his lungs as he shuddered, sack roiling and still balls deep, jerking in your cushy channel to make sure every drop spurted inside. Your own release gushed around him, glazing his softening cock and mixing with his virile spunk.

"Haah, ah…" he panted meekly, tremulous and sensitive, just like you. Time slowed, simply nestling in the welcoming warmth of your creampied pussy, lazily swaying and sloshing his potent sperm deeper inside, quiet, tiny noises coming from your pliant and knackered form.

"L—Law..."

"Shh... shh..." his head lightly tilted down between your clavicle and neck, shifting his position and spreading his legs further, sighs of delight grazing you while yours were stifled, spent, and satisfied. He languidly plunged his shaft a bit more, cooing and soothing you when pressing onto your glutes, stimulating your fragile senses — soft squelches coming from your union, drowsy whimpers shushed by him. The drawn skin of his testes loosened, hanging low on your ass; abundant and snug.

Moments passed as the pornographic clapping could no longer be heard, only a slick sound and your mellow whine as he slid out of your loose cunny, the result of your coition leaking out and plopping onto the sheets.

Carefully slumping onto you to not cause discomfort, he nuzzled your damp face that clearly conveyed pleasure and exhaustion, your breathing slowing and calming too. Your body quaked with aftershocks, moreso than him, and was a furnace at the moment.

The smile forming on him was unavoidable, eyes softening and heart drumming adoringly, the earlier rush overwhelmed by the sense of safety and comfort.

His fleeting touch made the corners of your lips curve upwards, too, your own gaze tired but loving. The push on your lower thighs enfeebled, letting your legs slope; still a bit shaky from the intense orgasm. Law rolled to his side, bringing you close to him and wrapping an arm around your nape, pressing a fond kiss to your brow — and planting butterflies and flowers in your stomach.

How much you loved him.

"… Aah. Good job. I wasn't too rough, right? I'll clean up—"

"Mm… No, stay… please."

Too weak to say anything else, you cuddled to his side, resting your head on his undulating chest. Law blinked once, twice, before realizing you were already snuggled up and resting, about to part for dreamland —

"… love you."

— part from dreamland…

His jaw remained agape for a bit at just how softly you said that, watching your limp form sated and content. Small snores signaled your impending rest, your features detailed by the dim light — eased and void of all but tranquillity. He languidly pulled you closer, his pectoral flexing instinctively before loosening and becoming plushier beneath your cheek… Your personal pillow. The surgeon chuckled, lifting his arm and massaging your scalp — you're always so precious.

Pulling the blanket over the both of you, Law sighed, delighted by the additional warmth it offered to your naked bodies; still cradling you close. He stayed up some more, rubbing consoling patterns on your torso as he pondered what to do. His inner doctor wanted to care for you before resting, however, he knew it'd be useless to try. You were already sleeping soundly. Alright... he'll help you tomorrow morning.

With one last peck to your temple, he soon followed too, relaxing on the comforting mattress — the sleep report crew in his head (Produced, directed, and starred by him) confirming he'd be reposing peacefully. (He had no idea where that idea came from but if you somehow were to hear about it, he knew you'd tell him he's a dork. He blushed a little.)

"… Goodnight. I love you too."

[venusxsturnio]

LATE NIGHTS

PAIRINGღ chris x black!fem!reader

SUMMARYღ y/n and the triplets went on a late night trip to target to get some snacks for the movie night they were having. upon arriving to the store chris was being a little touchy with y/n. once she addresses it...

FROM VENUSღ hi guys! i'm trying a new layout. lmk what y'all think. ✿ btw i know dv p3 was supposed to come out tomorrow. but like i actually have no idea what to do next. i need inspo. so remember my requests are always open! and remember i love criticism. :)

WARNINGSღ cussing...fluff...

proofread!

12:03 pm

you and the triplets were watching '10 Things I hate About You' because you were in the rom-com mood. about forty-five minutes into the movie you saw chris shuffling his way over to her. he got comfortable as he wrapped an arm around her body, his hand sliding to your waist. you were confused. why was he being so touchy all of a sudden. you brushed it off until your stomach started growling. you started complaining about how you were getting hungry and wanted some snacks from target.

"guys please. I don't want to go alone! and besides we can all get snacks! just please...come with me to target." you begged. the triplets all looked at each other and sighed in defeat. matt playfully rolled his eyes. "alright come on! let's go." you squealed in excitement. they grabbed their jackets and made their way out the door. you all made your way to the car and matt started it and pulled off.

halfway through the drive to target, chris started getting all touchy again. he scooted closer to you in the car, as his hand found it's way to your leg. he started making little shapes on your leg. you looked at him in confusion. "what?" chris said clueless as to what you were thinking. "nothing." you said brushing it off. you placed you arm on the door and laid your face on your hand, you continued looking out the window the whole way their, you didn't even notice it but chris stopped tracing shapes on your thigh and was just holding it now.

you guys made it to target. matt and nick walked off on their own to get some snacks, leaving you and chris alone. you grabbed a cart and started pushing. sometime in some aisle with chips in it, you felt a warm body brush up against your back. you looked back and saw chris. he wrapped his arms onto yours and started pushing the cart to. "what are you doing." you said feeling your face heat up. "pushing the cart." chris said with a slight grin on his face. "but i'm pushing the cart." you said. you were trying to read him through his words, since you didn't want to keep turning around to look at him.

you thought about it for a second. you stopped pushing the cart, making you guys stumble a little since chris didn't know you were about to do that. "what the hell is going on chris." you said turning around facing him, crossing your arms, and leaning on the cart. "what the hell are you talking about y/n" chris said crossing his arms too. "why have you been so touchy with me all night?" y/n said wanting to know what was up. "i haven't" chris said denying everything. "oh really. so what was that back at the house. or in the car. or just now. hmm? what the fuck was it chris." you said starting to get agitated, that he wasn't being honest, and was just beating around the bush. "ok! dammit y/n, i was holding out for so long. you really want me to tell you." chris asked uncrossing his arms and placing one on your cheek. you looked at his hand. face frozen.

you nodded softly. "i like you, y/n. a lot. always have." chris said face turning red as a cherry once he confessed. along with yours too. "do you know how long i've been waiting to hear those words chris?" you said while closing the gap between you two and bringing your hands up to his face, while staring at him with love in your eyes.

chris's hands lid down to your waist gripping them tightly, and he smashed your lips together. it was like magic. his soft lips against yours. finally. there you two were. in the middle of an aisle in target kissing.

FROM VENUSღ y'all. HOW WAS IT?!?! i think it ate personally. like how the hell did i give my own self butterflies from writing this? again sorry for the delay on DV3. i promise if not this weekend, then sometime next week. i just need inspiration. anyone give me ideas please! don't forget requests/dm's are open :)

credits: @sturn777 thank you!

[straightforthefl00r]

until my knots unravel

His eyes widened at the sight of the door slamming in his face, the mahogany of the door mocked him. The lock delicately clicked into place.

“You’re a fucking ass!”

Dabi felt the words escape from his mouth. He didn’t mean that, truly. If anything, he was the ass for being so ignorant.

He wished the world would just stand still. It couldn’t keep spinning like this, not when you were in so much pain. Not when he caused that pain. Not when he feels so much that he thinks he could explode into stardust.

However, the world didn’t heed a single wish of his and, instead, became blurry.

Typical.

“Why the fuck did you do that!”

Dabi banged his fist against the door.

The mission had not even ended an hour ago and he was kicking up a fuss. Despite the mission going according to plan (for once in his goddamn life), he came back to the hideout with about three broken ribs, a smashed shoulder and with some internal bleeding to go with that, no doubt. Everyone else was in no better shape.

“Tell me!”

You, as per usual, healed them all until they were as good as new. Dabi never really knew how your quirk worked (he never really bothered to learn), because you always went to hide away in your ‘infirmary’ room. If it could be called that. It was just a dark room with a few beds, and a stain on the floor that would never disappear, no matter how hard you would wipe.

Blood started to trickle from his hand. The cold air, the red, the yelling: it was too much. He was being too much.

Dabi wondered if you would heal this too.

“Come out here and talk to me!”

You healed him last out of all the league. He remembered your eyes when you healed him. They were tired. Exhausted, with a hint of something else.

He only found out about your quirk when you rested your hand against his and healed him. From what he’s pieced together, you absorb the injury and then heal yourself. He was sure of it. However, the sinking feeling in his stomach told him there was a lot more than that. You never got any visible injuries after healing.

“Please.”

Why did he care so much?

Of course he should care about you, you were the only healer in the team. Absolutely essential for this type of work. Perfect for villains like him.

You never got too attached either. Another thing Dabi respected about you. Always cold to the others in the league and even indifferent to the blood-sucking leech Toga. Even her insufferable bubbling didn’t make much of an impression on you.

Dabi, on the other hand, was very much attached to you.

When he thought about it, he had fun talking to you. You just made sense. Sometimes, that was just all he needed.

And when he really thought about it, he would swear that you enjoyed him too. Too many times Dabi caught a glimpse of a smile on your lips.

“Come out.” He whispered, voice now hoarse,”I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

He had no right whatsoever to be outside your door. He had no right either to be shouting at you. This was your life, your quirk. You didn’t need to explain a single thing to him.

You were fuming. The sheer entitlement this man felt.

“No.” You mumbled, from the other side of the door.

“Go away.”

Your back was against the door, head in your arms. “I’ll talk to you when I want to.”

[aryxchse]

I was looking for pottery mug ideas in pinterest and it's full of cute ass dates!

LIKE I GOT IT, I AM SINGLE!! Chill with the subliminal messages! Universe directly rubs slaps it in my face at this point!

Like I am gonna cry that I have to do this alone while they are doing matching mugs and bowls together with their lovers!

Will you please give me something (fic or hc whatever you want) like that with Percy so I can keep my clay wet with my tears.

matching art / percy jackson x female! reader

a / n : nO BECAUSE WHY THIS IS THE CUTEST REQ IVE EVER GET??

warnings : cutENESS, y/c/a = your cabin animal, im sorry this is short 😭, SUPRISINGLY NOTHING GUYS HEHE

"percy! it's on my nose nowww," you whined while percy laughed like crazy.

"what's the fun in arts and crafts if we don't get messy a little?" he excused, kissing your cheek. you sighed and chuckled, rolling your eyes at your dorky boyfriend. in your defense, he was very handsome.

it was the arts and crafts hour at the camp, which is your favorite. today's activity was pottery making. everyone was doing colorful or non-colorful -im talking about YOU nico di angelo- mugs, bowls or sculptures. someone made zeus from the clay for gods' sake!

you and percy were making matched mugs together. it was obviously blue. yours was going to be baby blue while his was navy. he already finished his own, drawing sharks and dolphins on it with a little help of some apollo kid. now it was your turn, which you wanted jellyfish and y/c/a on it.

but, of course percy couldn't keep his hands to himself, no matter how dirty they were. he sat behind you and helped you shape the clay. and every once in a while, like now, he would mess with you.

"im not against fun, you're just making me get distracted because my mug will be prettier than yours," you shrugged, making a proud face. percy gasped and bit your cheek, making you yelp.

"how dare you call my sharks ugly!" he said in fake annoyance while giggling. you were no better, squirming and laughing under his touch.

"stop percy, my mug's gonna get smashed!" you yelped and he finally stopped. as your laughs turn into quiet chuckles, he rested his head on your shoulder, hugging your waist.

you noticed his silence and thought you accidently hurt his feelings, so you turned your head. but instead, you found a percy who was resting on your shoulder peacefully. his cheek smushed against your temple, and a faint smile on his face.

"what?" he finally asked, smirking.

"you're not helping me," you said, raising an eyebrow. percy tilted his head. "thought i was distracting you and try to make your mugs ugly?" he giggled, obviously not hurt.

"i won't care if it turns out ugly," you smiled, booping his nose so that he has a clay on his face, matching yours. "it will be perfect for me, since your hands touched it."

[sancyber]

game over

pairing jeong yunho x gn!reader x choi san | genre smut, roommates au | summary your roommates lost their game and they need to relieve some stress. | word count 2.2k

warnings soft dom!yunho, hard dom!san, sub!reader, threesome, mentions of voyeurism, nipple play, fingering, marking, praise, orgasm denial, kind of long foreplay, spanking, masturbation, hair pulling, degradation, rough sex, unprotected sex, objectification, spit roasting, creampie, facial

note thank you for tuning into my first work on here.

the sounds of keyboard smashing and mouse clicking were impossible to miss despite it only happening one room away from yours. your flatmates were enjoying a pleasant — or should i say, rather an unpleasant evening spending their time chatting on discord with their other friends and also playing games. unpleasant evening in terms of the two men losing their tempers over a game on the verge of defeat.

immediately you were met with the sound of one of them smashing his headset onto the keyboard followed by angry steps that were made toward your room. you expected them to come to you to rage about their loss as usual but today it seemed a little different.

"y/n" your name rolled off yunho's tongue sternly as walked towards your room and sat down on your own bed. before you were able to reply you noticed something about the taller male. in between his lazy grey sweatpants, you found yourself eyeing his half-hard tent.

yunho followed your eyes and realized what your sight was at that moment. little did you know you immediately and unbeknownst to you you got straight to his point.

"what are you—" your words quickly got interrupted by him.

"can you do us a little favor? you know… as a relief. that game really pissed us off. especially san. right, sannie?" his gaze moved across the room to his teammate who was standing in front of your doorframe as he nodded in agreement.

"what do you think, y/n? let‘s have a little fun tonight, shall we?" san asked with a hint of playfulness in his sweet yet husky voice. your eyes widened. unsure what to do you continued turning your head to face each of them.

"i… i really don't know what you guys are talking about…" you slowly said despite being fully aware of what they were referring to. it just hasn't struck you yet that they are willing to go this way with you.

"oh pretty please… do you really think in all those years of living together we haven't noticed you touching yourself in your room thinking we wouldn't be able to hear you?" the moment you processed san's words, your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment.

"moaning both yunho's name and mine as you cum over all those pretty fingers of yours? did you really think you were alone at home or we were too immersed in our games? no, we weren't. we were enjoying every single bit of your lovely sounds"

if it wasn't just idiomatic, your jaw would be undoubtedly on the floor at what san just said to you.

yunho and san were not just some random people you happened to share a flat with to split costs and save money. over the years you got to know them and eventually recalled them sharing their personal stories and adventures with you, from quick one-night-stands with people in the buzzing and lively club downtown to unsuccessful situationships, you heard everything from them. yet you never expected yourself in this situation and assumed the relationship with both of them to be fairly platonic.

but there was no doubt that each of them was extremely and uniquely attractive in their own way. yunho was ridiculously tall in a way you always wondered how he didn't end up pursuing a modeling career along with his puppy-like facial features and his big slender hands whereas you accidentally found yourself daydreaming about having his fingers grace over your body when you thought there was no chance to even have him act this way towards you.

meanwhile, san was something else. shaped like adonis himself he has a body where you just knew, god took his time with san. it wasn‘t very uncommon for you to drool over to your smaller flatmate in height but definitely broader one in frame. having the two of them in your room right at this exact moment unaware of their plans that they had with you. you were in for a long ride.

after being able to process what was just offered to you, you simply just nodded and yunho smiled wide. an endearing smile yet with a little hint of perversity behind it.

"come here"

yunho gestured to his lap where he was manspreading on your bed already, anticipating his next moves with you as you did what you were asked to. your back hit yunho's toned chest as you plopped down on his thighs. a slight blush creeping across your face as you grew aware of the taller male‘s lasting gaze on your so much smaller figure in comparison to his. your eyes traveled from yunho's face down to his fingers across the room until your gaze eventually met san's eyes which were still attentively watching and leaning onto the doorframe with one hand. an even deeper shade of red spreading across your face as you could feel your arousal growing from being watched by these two ridiculously attractive men.

yunho shifted in his seat before slowly leaning in. his lips meeting yours as the kiss grew more heated and passionate with every second while he brought his long digits down to your abdomen, slowly creeping up your chest and toying with your sensitive nipple. his other hand slid down your upper body past your sweatpants as he was teasing you through your underwear by touching you everywhere except where you needed his fingers the most. you moaned into the kiss at the touch as you broke the kiss to pout at the man and he couldn't help but smile at you.

"what‘s the matter, sweetheart? already growing impatient? let me take my time with you because…"

he looked over to san who was watching the indecent scene unfolding with a less sweet gaze than yunho.

"the moment he gets started with you, you will be a mess… i need to enjoy you while i still can. will you allow me to, sweet thing?"

you, on the other hand, were still pouting but accepted yunho's proposal regardless and nodded in understanding.

"that‘s my baby" is all he said before his lips started to attack the sensitive skin on your neck, biting and sucking marks that are not gonna go unnoticed.

your breath hitched when you realize that yunho has slid his hand past your soaked underwear.

"oh my, you're already so wet. i knew you wanted this all along. this is exciting for you, isn't it?" was all he said before slipping in his index finger and soon bringing another one, fingering you open.

realizing that you could take a third digit before you clenched around his fingers, he abruptly started pumping them in and out of you, earning sweet whimpers from you as he quickly found your sweet spot, hitting it over and over again.

"y-yunho… so— so fucking good…"

waves of pleasure striking you as you chased your release at a speed that you never thought you would be able to do so all thanks to yunho's skillful hands. he knew exactly how to work with you and turn you into an utter mess by just using his fingers at a frequency beyond your imagination alone.

"you are taking it so well. you look so hot like this."

deeply absorbed in your own stimulation you were hardly able to notice that yunho had watched every move, every squirm, every twitch of yours attentively so he knew exactly when to stop before you could even reach your high. realization hitting you as you purposefully missed out on your own orgasm, resulting in you letting out a very disappointed whine.

"don't worry, baby. i just prepared you for the real fun." yunho noted, pitying you for the mess he just has caused you.

you were so far gone in your own misery that you have yet to notice san walking over the two of you, standing in front of you. he didn't waste a single second to get rid of his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his hard and of pre-cum leaking cock, giving it a few strokes. there was no surprise yunho had to prep you for your other roommate, as he was massive in girth.

"get on your knees. show me your pretty ass," san ordered and you complied with your needy endeavor, moving towards the edge of your bed, lifting your hips for him to grab, giving it a harsh smack before digging his nails into your flesh as he aligned his length with your entrance and pushed in rapidly that you bottomed out within seconds.

completely lost in the pleasure of being stuffed again, you were shaking with your entire being. your core happened to be so drenched that san slipped in with ease despite his size. the moment san started thrusting with an unmatched force, you already knew you would be a mess. he showed you no mercy, no remorse, no time to just get used to feeling so full. his hands grabbing a fistful of your hair so he could increase his pace. the way his hips crashed into yours, burying his cock so deep into you that it felt like it might come out the other end, the sensational feeling of having your hole obliterated left your mouth hung open with loud moans leaving.

"look at you" san groaned so deeply full of pure lust. "what a nasty whore you are. having your brain fucked out by me" he left no chance to breathe properly. "and you're being watched too. you like that, don't you? having other people witness how much of a dirty slut you are. being a mere object for our pleasure."

san's filthy words rang through your head as he referred to the taller roommate, who managed to pull his sweatpants and his boxers down to his knees, having his own cock in a fist as he jerked himself off to the sight of you completely falling apart on san's cock.

"god, s-san… i'm so clo– ah… you f-feel so good- oh! around me…" unable to contain your voice you were slowly losing yourself, chasing your high once again.

"that's right, you cockslut. you were made to be fucked by us. your holes' only purpose was to satisfy us" san said in heavy breathing.

yunho, on the other hand, got onto his knees in front of you, holding his dick in one, pumping it a few times before he shoved it down your mouth, tears swelling up in your eyes as his length easily hit the back of your throat not long after entering, the sweet taste lingering on your tongue, the veins that adorned his cock brushing against your tongue.

"your mouth feels so good, y/n. let me fuck it, will you?"

both of your roommates were thrusting into you simultaneously on both ends. your room was filled with sounds full of filth from the three of you, the air smelling like pure sex. feeling so overwhelmed as you were fucked within an inch of your life by the two men, it didn't take long for you to reach your own high. you closed your eyes as you moaned so loud that you sent vibrations down yunho's body while he was penetrating your mouth. taking your last bit of strength to tap yunho's thigh signaling that your climax was near.

"aw, oh you're close? then cum for us. make a mess." the faux sympathy was evident in his voice as he was taking in every single bit of you.

the sounds of san's raspy groans were echoing throughout your room at the same time. all sorts of juices running down your leg and dripping on your bed sheets as the man behind you buried his length into your warm walls. your nerves were tingling, your body was twitching as you were being stimulated into your own high. as your loud sobs echoed throughout the space, you were most likely to be heard by any outsiders.

yet san didn't seem to stop here as he continued to abuse your hole, hitting your spot again and again while yunho also kept shoving his dick down your mouth. somehow the two of them managed to cum roughly at the same time. the taller man pulled out, past your messed up lips and your tear-stained face as jerked himself off, white spurts landing all over your face. simultaneously san was shooting his load inside you, the warm liquid dripping down your already-soaked bed. yunho was panting hard, his mouth hanging open, his eyes focusing on the grotesque picture of you being covered in his semen that unfolded in front of him. the one behind you groaned loudly before he took his cock out, allowing more of his cum to flow out of your pulsating hole.

"ah… you look so sexy like this… all messy with my cum all over your face", was all yunho said as he leaned down to stroke your face, smearing the fluid even more.

san grabbed a handful of your ass and spread your cheeks apart to get a perfect glimpse of your hole as he bent down to get a bit of his own taste and also brought another hand to your ass with a harsh smack. you could feel him smirking as you whimpered at the sudden contact while still shaking from your shattering orgasm.

another smack.

"did you really think we were done with you?"

the lost game was long forgotten.

© sancyber, 2023

[quitealotofsodapop]

Monkey King Reborn - Reincarnation

referencing this post about an idea for Reborn's version of Sun Luzhen.

After the events of Reborn; the Pilgrims leave Five Village Abbey, now content with Yuandi's death + the restoration of the Ginseng Tree, but saddened by the loss of Fruitie/Qi Energy.

Until they pass by a Temple to Nüwa and find the snake-creaation goddess holding a large lump of wet clay and a pile of bone ash. After the initial shock of seeing the goddess (Zhu Bajie gets smacked for staring), they realise that she's just as delighted to see them. The Pilgrims all come closer thinking that they're witnessing how the goddess creates new life.

Nüwa: "Ah! Sun Wukong! Just the person I needed to see!" Smokey: "Huh? Why?" Nüwa: (*hands Smokey the lump of clay and some ash*) Smokey: "???" Lump of Clay: (*glows with soul energy*) Sha Wujing: "There's something moving inside! Is it a soul?" Nüwa, explaining: "Sometimes little ones skip Diyu all together and find me so I can make them a new vessel. This little one didn't have a strong enough body to reincarnate into." Smokey: (*absent-mindly rolling/shaping the clay into a rough egg-shape*) "Why is that?" Nüwa: "Because it's soul used to belong to the first Demon King Yuandi." The Pilgrims: (*all in various stages of shock*) "what." Nüwa: "No earthly vessel could hope to contain the primordial energy that laid within. So it came to me seeking help to be born. However I don't create life from my own power anymore. My new creations need a parent to mold from in order for the body to be made. And since Stone Monkeys can absorb their parents Dao through their egg, I knew exactly *who* to wait for." Smokey: (*pauses and finally stops rolling the clay/ash lump*) Egg-shaped Clay: (*hardens in Smokey's hands. Now resembling an actual Stone Egg*) Smokey, realising: "WAIT?! DID YOU JUST-!" Nüwa, cheeky smile: "I hope you come to love your little heir. They'll hatch soon enough." (*The Goddess disappears into the stone floor of the temple*) The Pilgrims: "!?!?" Smokey, shell-shocked: "I think I'm a father now."

The Pilgrims ofc are panicking at the fact that the very demon they just perma-banished/killed has literally reincarnated into Smokey's arms. They argue over whether or not to smash the egg (the monkey hisses and clutches the Egg tighter) or to go back to Five Village Abbey and hand it over to Zenyhuan for the immortals to deal with. But then there's the chance that the gods may just destroy or seal away the egg anyway.

Smokey is super conflicted since he has repressed grief over losing Fruitie, and doesn't want the only other Stone Monkey (he knows) to be raised by humans or risk becoming an experiment for Lao Tzu. Also his Stone Monkey instincts have been activated and he hisses at anyone who comes close to the egg.

So they decide for now to keep the egg, and the resulting little monkey, until they can figure out whether or not the soul contained even remembers being Yuandi.

A different argument quickly crops up along the way.

Sha Wujing: "So... what should we name them?" Zhu Bajie: "Why not just call them Yuandi? It's who they are." Xuanzang: "We are not naming the baby after who they used to be. Yuandi is dead. This little one is alive." Smokey, holding the egg: "Also, what if it's a girl?" Zhu Bajie and Xuanzang: (*protective-uncle mode activated*) "GIRL!?!"

And since this little reincarnated baby is Reborn's version of Sun Luzhen, I wanted their name to include one of the major characters. It was difficult cus "Lǚzhēn" (履真/"to tread/shoe" + "reality") is a compound name. One naming idea I have is; "Zhēnzhì/真志" - is a compound of "to tread" + "ambition". That or Smokey nicknames the baby "Xiao Lǚ/Little Shoes" cus of little shoe-like markings on her back feet. Also matches her "twin" Xiao Qi. :3

Once the truth comes out about Liang's little stowaway being a Stone Egg they stole found at the base of the Ginseng Tree, the Pilgrims of course ask about their choice of name.

Sha Wujing: "So did you name your cub that when you found out it was once Qi Energy?" Liang: "Huh? No, I just called them Xiao Qi [小气] cus they're a tiny bundle of energy. It was either that or Peachy, since they're pink and fuzzy like a peach." (*kisses the giggling Xiao Qi's face*) The Pilgrims: (*all give Smokey a sly smile*) Smokey: (*hides face/blush at the fact his rival/crush has similar naming themes for babies*) Zhēnzhì/Xiao Lǚ: (*paps Smokey's face with tiny hands*) :P

The pair of cubs are like Yin and Yang. One dark and demure, the other light and wild. And they of course act as a perfect reason for Sun Wukong and his estranged ex-friend to reunite and have to work together to ensure their stable upbringing. >:3

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

fragile, but not like a flower.

Summary: Sometimes you need to be cut up to be made whole again.

Pairing: harddom!Simon Walker x sub!afab!Reader

Word Count: - 2.6k

Content Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat 18+!, Overstimulation Meltdown (Not Sexual), Consensual Cutting (Very Much Sexual Tho), Fingerfucking, Humiliation, Pet Names, Honorifics (Sir/ Daddy / Princess), Aftercare <3

A/N: To my defence, this was written on fever medication 🥲

Tagging: @ohlookapan @queer-crusader @somethingblu3 @blueberrypancakesworld

She's not acid nor alkaline

Caught between black and white

Not quite either day or night

She's perfectly misaligned

I'm caught up in her design

And how it connects to mine

I see in a different light

The objects of my desire

- Alkaline By Sleep Token

A sniffled cry clawed its way from your lungs and out of your throat, accompanying the porcelain shatter of a cup that had slipped from your fingers as you’d meant to pour yourself some tea. The harsh sound of it splintering into a multitude of sharply edged shards caused your inner pot of already bubbling and rumbling overstimulation to boil over eventually, for you to switch from painfully numb indifference that had lasted throughout the past days to a nearly toddler-like tantrum in which you needed to hold on to yourself as hard as you possibly could to not just throw and smash every damn cup from the cabinet in unbridled frustration.

“Oh, fuck you, stupid fucking cup!” You whined out with a gush of uncomfortably burning tears prickling at your waterline, choking back the urge to stomp down onto the broken cup, your mind fully reeling in the thrashes of finding something to drown out the overstimulation fit that left you feeling disgustingly helpless in its wake.

Instead of hammering your bare foot down at the splintered porcelain, you took a shaky step back from the scene of the almost-nearly-crime, jaws clenching roughly and teeth grinding, causing unhealthily crunching sounds to echo through your skull. Away from the immediate source of possible pain to disrupt those raging feelings of constant incompetence and enraging clumsiness, your thoughts immediately pinpointed at the option to slap your knuckles against the very edge of the wooden counter or your head against the door to the kitchen until the hurt drowned out the powerlessness over your own vile emotional whims that tortured you just like they did right now. Perhaps you should just tear and rip at your hair until the burn emitting from your scalp slapped some sense back into you.

“You alright?” The pushing need to just scream nagged at your ribcage as you whirled around to look at Simon with wide eyes, his face peeking out behind the doorway leading to an open living room.

You knew that he just wanted to be nice because he cared for you, he really did, however, every single ounce of negativity shifted his way and you drilled your fingers into your palms with such vigor that the shape of your nails would leave thin dents in your skin. You’d never subject Simon to your stupid outbursts, never never not ever would hurt him the way you longed to hurt yourself right now, yet, the thought of simply pouncing him to scratch the infuriatingly gentle smile from his face flitted through your mind for a brief moment.

“Hmhm..”, His soft yet curious gaze wandered from your harshly clenched fists to the broken cup right behind you, putting two and two together before you even finished uttering, “No, ‘s just…”

The unfinished groan was accompanied by your shoulders slumping down, the violent apex of your fit being effectively surpassed as quickly as the storm had enraptured you.

“Come’ere. I know. I’ll clean that up, yeah?” Simon’s brows raised into an understanding arch as he motioned to you that it was going to be okay with a nod of his head.

Tears were gushing from your lash line and over the soft round of your cheeks before you even reached his opened arms, seeking shelter in a tight hug that felt like him gently squeezing everything back to where it belonged like straightening a crooked shelf.

“Oh, hey, babe.”, Simon cooed into your hairline whilst his hand found the back of your head, tenderly stroking down to the nape of your neck, “It’s not just about the cup, hm?.”

You shook your head in his tender embrace, wiping your tears with the fuzzy fabric of his fir green cotton shirt and muffling your sobs alike.

“Everything’s jus’ pissing me off so much.” The words rumbled through your chest and with them, a new wash of wetness spilled from your eyes, the deafening exhaustion of the sudden emotional outburst catching up to you swiftly.

“Everything? What’s everything, love? Tell me.” Starting from your hairline down, Simon led his fingers to wander along your spine, grazing past your shoulder blade with fingertips not just stroking but lightly pressing you further against him and you didn’t hesitate to take that invitation.

“ ‘M just so fucking stupid all of the time.”, The self-deprecation came pouring out without any warning, making you flinch from your own words, “Can’t even pour a cup of tea.”

Instead of resting his hand on your lower back, Simon let it wander further down quickly, fingers grasping at the round of your ass harshly as an imminent reminder that he didn't approve.

“Don't you dare talk like that about yourself.”, His tone rendered stern immediately, admonishing even, “You're very competent and a stupid mug won't change that, babe.”

Simon's sudden clasp at your behind caused you to whine out a wayward yelp, the sudden pang of pain rendering through you; helping.

“Again.” You uttered as the pain hadn't even begun to fade.

“Excuse me? Oh.” Simon picked up on it quickly, palming at your ass again, this time squeezing even harder, causing you to claw at his shirt and groan into the fabric.

The hurt emitting from his ministrations cut right through your clouded mind and changed the anger and frustration into humble atonement because you knew just fine that Simon wasn't fond of you talking about yourself this way, to say the least.

The tears stopped almost instantly as the sting of his hand working the muscle and flesh of your behind came as a saving grace, an addictive distraction to your over-triggered and used-up patience.

“Oh, so needy for some proper discomfort, hm? Poor thing.” His sharp taunt shot right between your legs, having you throb just because of carefully aimed words, “Need me to take care of that, yeah?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you nodded, relief and bubbling excitement flushing the last remnants of your amplified self-hatred out of your thoughts.

“Alright, then be a darling and pick one thing, only one, from the kitchen and come back to me, got that?” You nodded again but that wasn't enough for Simon.

“Use your words.” He demanded harshly, underlining his point with his entire palm smacking your ass, making you jump against him, feeling that it was not just you getting worked up over this already.

“Understood, sir.” You uttered before sensing his hold on you easing up to let you go and pick your favored tool of torture.

The realization of just how hot your face was had already knocked the air from your lungs as you stepped back, turning back to the kitchen whilst Simon simply slumped down on the sofa, leisurely spreading his arms along the headrest. With a thrashing heartbeat and blood rushing down between your legs, your eyes hastily roamed over the counter; a wooden spoon? Too blunt. A bamboo chopstick perhaps? Not violent enough for your current cravings. Your gaze came back to the splintered porcelain and you lit up in unbridled masochistic excitement.

From behind, Simon watched you crouch down in front of the shards and splinters, his head slightly cocked to the side whilst you decided on the piece worthy enough to be brought back to him. Holding back a groan of his own, Simon ignored the throbbing need gradually straining against his jeans because this exquisitely escalating scenario required him to be fully there and not on some sex-crazed ego trip over your body and his release; there'd be more than enough to catch up to that later.

Having his eyes on you and following every single one of your moves had Simon pondering about what riled him up more: the fact that you had each other wrapped around your fingers or the way his freak matched yours so utterly perfectly.

For a swift moment, his eyes fluttered shut as he recalled one particular night where he'd spit on your tongue, had you swallow it and you’d thanked him with glazed-over eyes all because you had a rough day at work.

You just took so willingly and it left him so fully satisfied because your inner whore for pain and humiliation finally was a worthy counterpart to his nearly limitless sadistic creativity. Simon took a great deal of pride in being allowed to be the one providing all that for you in a safe and judgment-free space because you did the same for him. Without your consent and you offering your body to him like that, none of it would take place.

“This one, sir.” Simon’s eyes opened up again to find himself looking at a triangular-shaped piece of gray and red striped porcelain; he remembered to cup, picturing the whole piece in his mind.

“You sure?” A quick point of no-return safety question for the sake of both of you.

“Uh-huh.” You nodded vigorously and the wicked glint in your eyes painted a wide grin onto his face as he tapped at his thigh.

“C’mon then, get yourself out of those PJ shorts and sit with me for a while.” Simon inhaled deeply, taking the sharp piece of material from your grasp so you could just shimmy out of your frilly shorts without the danger of scratching yourself, which was reserved for only him to do.

You eagerly followed his demand and let the delicate satin fabric pool at your ankles before stepping out of the little pile of cloth and sitting yourself down in your superior's lap.

“There, there.” He hummed contently, one hand pulling you flush to his front whilst he nuzzled his lips into the crook of your neck, greedily mouthing at the sensitive skin.

Simon got you squirming in his lap without even so much as putting the sharp edge of porcelain to your skin and he unmistakably reveled in how needy you were for his attention, his touch, and guidance.

“Close your eyes, love.”, The deep timbre to his gradually more raspy tone caused a wash of goosebumps to roll over your body, nipples momentarily pebbling against your oversized sleeping shirt, “Feel that?”

With the entire width of his palm, Simon pressed the splinter against your thigh, squeezing the outlines of its shape into your skin, effectively coaxing a whine to fall from your bottom lip.

“I’m sure that that’s going to hurt so bad but that’s what you want, ain’t it? You’re such a deviant little glutton for punishment.” The combination of cool porcelain pushing against your leg and his words lulling you in, sparking a familiar, warm pang of shame and embarrassment to creep into your cheeks, had your stomach twitching and flipping.

“Uh-huh.” You mumbled anew, your head nodding along without you even really being aware of it.

“Hm, such a mess already, pathetic.”, Simon groaned into the curve of your neck, his free hand shamelessly groping at your cunt to keep you from toppling over, “Look at you braindead little dummy.”

“Ouw, mhmmm..” The weak exclamation of your discomfort upon Simon’s fingers taking hold of your crotch was met with a sly laugh.

“Oh, no, doesn’t that feel nice, yeah?”, He hummed against your throat before leading his index and middle finger to push between your labia, spearheading into you, “Haven’t even started, poor baby.”

You felt your walls clench down around his fingers, couldn’t help it to happen.

“Dumb little slut.”, Simon lifted his hand from your thigh, angling the very tip of the splinter against your skin, “Let’s see how you handle that, hm?”

Way before your body caught up to the sliver of cold followed by a distinct sting of pain as skin got torn, you mewled out in plain fear. One perfectly horizontal cut, from outside to inside of your thigh. Not threateningly deep but enough to tear through the first layers of skin, enough to draw blood.

“Good girls don’t hurt themselves, they wait for Daddy to do that, no?” Simon set the edge a little higher, not waiting for you to adjust to his ministrations before adding the next incision.

“What a fucking whore you are!” Simon couldn’t keep the filth spilling from his own mouth as he sensed you clenching down around his fingers again with each former and every next violation to your leg.

“Enjoying this so much, princess?” The gruff stubble of his dirty-blonde beard scratched against the crook of your neck.

“Hurts.. s’much, ouw, please, sir.” You muttered with quivering lips, brain unable to grasp if you already had enough or just kept wantonly stuttering for more.

“Oh, I know, love, but you asked for this, remember?” Yet another cut demolished your skin, little droplets of blood pooling out and sliding along the curve of your thigh.

Such a pretty sight, skin torn open and rivulets of red pearling down to both sides.

“Good little girl.”, Sir hummed, fingers drilling further into you, feeling how wet you were, how desperate, “Taking it so well.”

Again, tears burned at the corners of your eyes, this time from a very different flavor of overstimulation.

“Aw, are you going to cry now? Because you're getting what you asked for? Spoiled brat, really.” Simon tossed the bloodstained piece of gray and red onto the wooden panels below just to push his tumble across the swollen incisions, generously smearing the blood all over your thigh.

“Please…” You heard yourself rambling, mind entirely drunk with adrenaline and dopamine alike.

“Please what? C'mon, speak up, slut.” He demanded but you couldn't, not even if you put everything you had left to it, instead, your body simply let go, contractions spasming around his fingers, orgasmic convulsions rippling through every nerve ending.

Everything within was tethering on the edge between crumbling down or ascending, no in-between, only either or and Simon knew all too well. To keep you from tumbling, he took the hand from your thigh and wrapped it around your waist, softly pulling you closer.

“Issok, honey. I got you. It's over, you did so well, babe.”, The cascade of sweetness started trickling from his lips to pull your reeling mind back, “ I'm so proud of you. ‘M gonna spoil you rotten, I promise.”

“It hurts.” Was the only thing that managed to roll over your tongue, brain dominated by clashing sensations of pleasure, pain and awfully plain confusion about what to lean into.

“I know, love, I know, but we'll take care of that, yeah. Clean you all up and put disinfectant on it. Can you push through that for me?” In a gentle motion, Simon pulled his fingers out of you, now taking both arms to gingerly hold you close in a calming embrace.

“I dunno.”, You huffed, lungs gasping for air as if they suddenly remembered that oxygen came as rather vital, “It'll burn.”

“Yeah, it will, but I know you can be brave about that, no? We still gotta clean up after playing, hm.” Simon was right and you very well knew it, however, you still dreaded it and that made you laugh out.

“That's so stupid.” You shuffled in his lap, hands finding his thighs to hold on to, “I let you cut me with a broken cup but disinfectant, that's where I draw the line?”

It made Simon cackle just the same.

“Everybody has their hard limits, no?”