#like. the idea of starting over from scratch in ANY field with this kind of advice being handed out? tragic. fucking hate it

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Waiter! More ghoul smut please!

(But fr though, I love ur fics. I was wondering if you had any ideas for the ghoul and somebody with a major primal-play kink?)

I have a longer piece in the works for this, but I thought I'd give a general flavor of what I think he'd be like in the meantime:

He's never heard of primal play before you bring up the idea to him, but he's very keen to try it out...after a long talk about exactly what you're open to him doing. He's very intrigued (and turned on) by the idea, but he's nervous enough about his strength when you two initially start having sex, when things are fairly vanilla and safe. The thought of being able to use that strength to fuck you is incredibly appealing, but he knows he'd never forgive himself if he accidentally hurt you, or even did something to frighten you or make you see him as even more of a monster than he's already been in front of you. But fortunately the two of you have much better communication between you than he's had with anyone in lifetimes. Make no mistake; the talk about boundaries is long, but he's turned on almost the entire time and fucks you six ways to Sunday afterwards.

Obviously the rope is going to be involved, but only as much as he needs to use it to get his hands on you. He isn't going to take the time to tie you up after he's caught you unless you make him, and that's more of a feat of strength than a feat of stubbornness. Physically, if he can just hold you down and fuck you, he will, and eagerly. Once he's caught you, he's rearing to breed you. If you manage to delay him enough (try to keep the shit-eating grin off your face while you fight against him, hmm?), he'll absolutely hogtie you, but it won't be comfortable.

You may get a bit scratched up during your entanglement, but frankly the smell of blood is only gonna get him more worked up. Don't count on him expressing much or any concern about it unless you're willing to safe word and safe word loudly. If you have any open wounds or scrapes that're within reach while he's fucking you, he's gonna be licking every single drop of blood away. Of course, he'll fuss over you and help mend your hurts. But, you know, once he's finished with you.

He's...bitey when he's at his most primal, but it's not really a product of his history of cannibalism. Before he was a ghoul, he was a biter, loving the feel of his partner's flesh in his mouth, against his tongue, the look of being able to visibly mark someone as your own. That aspect of his desires hasn't changed by the time you meet him, but it has evolved. He isn't afraid to use his teeth to hold you in place, to bruise you with them if you fight against him. That said: he won't break the skin, at least not on purpose. He's far too afraid of the cannibalistic side of him choosing that moment to take over for even a split second and taking an actual bite out of you. Even moreso he fears how much he would like it. That isn't a line he's willing to cross easily, or on a whim. If he does accidentally break the skin, it makes him cum almost instantly, but it also somewhat ruins the mood for him, making him anxious about the lack of self-control.

He definitely isn't impartial to wrestling his way in the back door, as well, if that's something you're interested in, but he'll only agree to do anal play of any kind if he knows you're properly prepared (especially since spit and precum are the only lube you're getting out in the field). You're certainly interested, but therein lies the problem: the preparation often gets him worked up, which gets you worked up, and suddenly he's bending you over and fucking you until you can't walk straight before you've even had a chance to playfully run away.

Regardless of which orifice he fights his way into, he's finishing inside your pussy. You can grouse at him about the UTI risk when he tries to go from back to front, but his only response will be to cum all over you and then shove it inside with his fingers, instead. You find that you really can't find an angle to protest this from.

[linksthoughtbrambles]

HUMMMMMM

What about Links to Zelda’s point of view of pre relationship after calamity BOTW, where everybody and their brother (AND SISTER) is in love with Zelda and hits on her, she’s oblivious of course because, yknow super in love with Link.

Every place they travel to post calamity, poor links cheeks STAY clenched.

Thanks for the prompt, @raziasark! I have been very slow, so I decided to post this one in installments. This first one is about 1100 words. I hope you enjoy the beginning and I'll try to be less slow 😂

Thanks @newtsnaturethings for bouncing ideas back and forth with me!

---

The Princess Vibe

At first, Link didn’t notice. He had a lot to deal with, and he was disoriented. Who could blame him? He’d just shot a giant purple boar on magenta-fire with magical golden arrows which somehow emerged from his soul while riding Geranium (who had somehow materialized in Hyrule field despite Link knowing for a fact when he last left him, he was happily munching hay at Riverside Stable).

Zelda’s arms around him were even more disorienting.

“Thank you, Link. Thank you,” she said, over and over like someone still half-dreaming, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

He held her firm, but so, so careful—she deserved every ounce of support he had in him, but she was his Princess, half-remembered and half an ethereal vision from his life before. Was it real? Was she real? Did he love her? He thought he did, but nowhere in all those glimpses of his past life had he said or done anything about it.

He could be imagining things, especially if they were in the past.

His head could be coping with all that secondhand drama.

Past-him might’ve just been doing his duty.

Past-her might’ve expected him to do his duty, too, and that was it.

Now-her might be glad he finally finished his duty, but that’s all.

Zelda shook like a dry, crackling leaf against him.

Link stroked her hair without thinking. He winced, waiting for an objection, but she just kept thanking him. He swallowed the taste of malice-fire, acrid and sulfurous in his dry throat.

She was free for the first time in a hundred years. She deserved that freedom. He wouldn’t foist his own feelings on her.

Later, he found himself wishing everyone else would see it that way.

--

They arrived, filthy and exhausted, at Riverside Stable.

“Huh?!” Ember said, his mouth agape as they approached on the unmistakable giant horse. “When’d you take him out?”

“Snuck him out like a thief in the night, eh?!” Gotter said, squinting at Link. “Why didn’t you ask us like normal?”

Zelda’d been half-dozing against him in the saddle, but her head rose at that. “Indeed not. I teleported him.”

“You-“

“What?!”

“I apologize for any inconvenience,” she said.

They stared at her.

As Link dealt with Ember and the logistics of re-boarding the horse, Gotter seemed unable to stop staring at Zelda, who’d sunk onto a stool to rest.

“Eh- do you- teleport often?” the portly stablehand asked in a strange tone of voice.

“Only recently,” Zelda replied.

“O- oh. I see, so- eh-“ Gotter wrung his hands and took a step closer to her. “What kind of things have you- tried?”

“Only Link and that horse.”

“Oh! You can teleport people?!”

“Not anymore,” she said.

“Eh? Why not?”

“I suppose it must be due to my renewed corporeality.”

Gotter scratched his head with a befuddled squint.

Link finished exchanging rupees just in time to see Zelda listing sideways. He rushed over, thinking to scoop her up, but she hugged his leg instead.

“Thank you,” she said.

He blinked. “You’re welcome.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up to see a sort of intense vacancy on Gotter’s face, totally fixed on Zelda.

Link hadn’t planned on staying there overnight anyway, but it gave him the creeps. He whipped out the Sheikah Slate. “Ready?” He asked.

Her face turned up, her eyes glazed and smeared face pale. “For what?”

“Let’s get you somewhere to rest.”

“Oh! Oh, there are beds here!” Gotter said.

Zelda started pulling herself up with Link��s thigh as anchorage. He helped her. Gotter reached out a hand, then pulled it back with an odd little…

Giggle?

“Oh- you have it, haha,” Gotter said.

Link had enough of the weirdness. “Ready?” he asked again as her arms wrapped around his neck. At her nod, he reached around her shoulders and tapped the icon for the Myahm Agana Shrine.

He adored her little gasp by his ear as the blue energy shivered through them. It was lucky, really—he could pass his own shiver off as that, instead.

--

They spent days just recuperating.

Zelda slumped onto a seat at his table as soon as they walked in, but he didn’t let her stay there. He carried her to his bed, deposited her there, and took her sandals off for her—she was already asleep.

He wrapped the comforter around her, grabbed a bedroll, and laid it out on the floor beside her. (This, it turned out, was unwise, since she stepped directly on his bladder about two hours later when she awakened to empty her own).

That incident aside, they each slept the rest of the night and morning away. Link awakened to the gentle pat of Zelda’s fingers on his cheek, and he turned to find her hanging partway off the bed to reach him.

“Where do you get your drinking water?” she asked.

Link was up like a shot and trotting to the well around back for her. He drew three hot baths that day, too—two for Zelda and one for him.

Time passed in a complete haze while they got used to being rested, clean, fed, and safe again. Link kept startling with this sudden feeling he’d forgotten to do something important—a false sense of urgency, leftover signals rattling around his nervous system (except on that first day, after Zelda’s first bath, when he realized with horror the only women’s clothing he had was his vai outfit, and he would feel like a monumental ass if he offered her that, so he offered his typical day clothes instead and that was worse—the way she looked coming out of the bathhouse with his undershirt and—shorts?!).

“Oh, uh,” he'd said with a nervous tremor in his voice. “Yeah, so those are undershorts, the pants are-“

“Too tight, I’m afraid,” she’d said with a furious blush (Link felt awful for embarrassing her), “around my- ah- posterior.”

Link had started to sweat as he feverishly searched his brain for the meaning of the word “posterior," which he knew he knew when his internal monologue wasn't screaming.

“Perhaps,” she’d said, “you could spare those Sheikah tights instead? They ought to stretch.”

“Oh! Sure,” he’d said, extremely happy for the excuse to escape any potential revelation of his temporarily-depleted vocabulary.

He later had a small moment of enlightened panic when he realized how she must’ve known about his tights (“every step” of his journey? Every single one?!).

There were quite a few other small panic attacks involved in not looking at all, not one little bit, at how those tights fit her. Eyes up, straight out at all times, absolutely no looking anywhere below neck-level at Zelda. None.

But apart from those things, his jumpiness was nothing but leftovers.

At first.

---

[To be continued! Not sure how long this will be, but clearly a multi-installment fic!]

[kaeyas-beloved]

Character: Childe

— he’s hopelessly in love with you <333

CWs: spoilers for Childe’s real name, gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned), not proofread!

a/n: snatching this format that I’ve seen around Tumblr because I like it and it fits here. Will I use it again? Not a clue!

hopelessly in love ajax who introduces you to his family relatively quickly and with little to no hesitation. childe feels with his whole being, love is no exception. so, when he can see a future with you, no matter what form that future may take, you meeting his family is the first step forward.

hopelessly in love ajax who’s all talk unless you make the first move. he can kiss you over and over and over again, teasing you along the way, but the moment you pull him forward and plant your lips on his face before he can is the same moment it’s all over for him.

hopelessly in love ajax who buys you gifts often but they all have sentimental value to them. he’ll but you flowers, handing them to you with the confession that he bought them because his love for you was too much to keep in his heart and no amount of words would describe what he was feeling. childe would also purchase your preferred jewelry - watch, ring, necklace, earrings, a bracelet, whatever you liked, as long as you promised to wear it whenever you went out. “so you’ll always have me with you!”

hopelessly in love ajax who refuses to let go of you once he has you in his arms. he acts like he might perish if he loses the warmth and love you radiate in your embrace! it’s not that he hasn’t received a hug in years, he gets plenty when he visits home, but there’s just something different in your hugs and cuddles that regular holds don’t have. a certain feeling they lack.

hopelessly in love ajax who grabs your wrist if you’re ever helping him take off his scarf or fatui mask, allowing his cheek to rest in your palm. you’ll find he nuzzles into it much like a cat would, but unlike a cat looking for warmth or to scratch an itch, ajax does it because your touch is one of the few things that soothes him after a long day, his mind instantly at ease.

hopelessly in love ajax who tries to impress you in any way he can. it starts simple enough, trying to flash his strength on the battle field and such, but the more he falls for you the more creative he gets. balancing a spoon on his nose, his (slowly improving) chopstick skills, leaping over decent sized creeks, anything to rouse some kind of pleasant response from you.

hopelessly in love ajax who flips between drowning you in whatever fancy dates his money can buy and the more simple, quieter date ideas. it’s never bad to change things up, he reasons, childe’s favourite being to take you out on walks through the nation’s scenery. whether it’s the snow dipped forests in snezhnaya, the golden mountains of liyue or even the green fields of mondstadt, as long as ajax is around, he’ll make sure you enjoy your time with him. (he certainly will be, because when dates like this happen is when he truly gets to connect with you!)

hopelessly in love ajax who’ll sometimes just stare at you. could be while you’re cuddling or sat at the table for a meal, his pretty blue eyes are on you, taking in all that you are. he’ll think how gorgeous you look, how luck he is someone like you loves someone like him, the darker sides of him and all. he thinks about how it’s now his mission to spoil and love you for the rest of his life, because anything less is a crime punishable by life behind bars.

Tag list: @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @saishin-michiyoshi // @ajaxstar // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @lemontum // @akiria12167 // @ari-the-wr1ter // @dontmindmebeing // @xiaos-wife // @irethepotato // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @stage-lucida

. . .

Wanna be tagged in future works? Consider filling out this form! And if you want to be removed just DM or send an ask into my inbox!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I started doing sex work while still living with my mom?

Warning for sexual mentions(nothing heavily explicit though)

I (18F) can't get a typical job like working in customer service or physical labor because of a mix of reasons. I'm both physically and mentally disabled, for one. I have chronic pain & chronic fatigue so extensive physical labor or any job that requires being up for a long time is out of the question for me, as it would cause me a lot of pain and put me at risk for collapsing or falling asleep due to exhaustion. I also have heavy social anxiety and sensory issues, and despite being in therapy since I was around 11, this hasn't gone away. I still have problems with stuttering when talking to people I don't know, and feel on the verge of panic the entire time. I also can't handle loud noises well- I carry around a pair of headphones constantly but that does mess with my hearing so I couldn't really use those in a customer service focused environment. I'm a full time student as well, and will be for several more years, as I'm going straight into college out of high school. On top of all that, I can't drive yet, as the process was delayed due to concerns that my health issues would make me a hazard on the road, so I won't have my full license until late this year.

I've tried looking for other job types before, but nothing I've been able to find works. I've tried doing art, but it's not easy to get people to actually commission you- I've only gotten 1 so far and I've had commissions open for almost half a year. I've tried content creation but have yet to build a platform big enough to make money from it. I've looked for online focused jobs such as creating captions or proof-reading others work but realized very quickly I'm not equipped/qualified for that job due to my problems with processing audio correctly, and my problems reading and writing correctly first try- I often have to re-read things many times over and re-type things at least once to get it at all correct, as words and letters get mixed up in my brain sometimes or I just accidentally skip over entire words or even sentences. And even then I sometimes still get it wrong. So I'm a pretty slow worker with things like reading, and something that requires listening to something and then writing what was said took so long it wouldn't meet the time requirements a lot of places are looking for in workers for that (that I've seen).

So the only idea I have left for making money so I at least have something to help pay for college and to go towards me being able to move out someday is some sort of sex work. I'm not planning on doing anything super risky, like meeting up with real people or anything that would show my face. So I wouldn't be worried about this bothering my mom since she's not really sex negative or strictly against sex workers or anything if it wasn't for one thing. I'm not sure if this will work either. I have a lot of acne problems all over, and problems with picking at my skin that leave scratch marks in a lot of places. And I'm not sure anyone would be willing to pay to look at that. It's not something that bothers me on an individual level, it's just a part of me, but that doesn't really change what other people do or don't find attractive. So it just kind of feels disrespectful to be selling that kind of thing in my mothers house if it's not even going to be significant enough for it to matter financially. And, of course, there's always the risk my mom could see it, and I worry it would upset her to see her daughter selling that kind of thing. But I don't see other options left for how I could make enough money to not end up drowning in student loans down the line, or end up living with my mom for many years into adulthood- which wouldn't be fair to her since she's not financially well off either. I don't plan for it to be a permanent job, just something to help me through my college years till I can start working in the field for what I'm getting a degree in or until my issues get well enough I can work a more typical job.

WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

[ateriblewriter]

Butterflies (t.z)

Continuation of I’m Here

TRIGGERS: self harm, self worth, hinting at other things (if you or anyone ever needs help please do reach out)

a/n: sorry this a year late. but here it is! read with caution.

Enjoy?

"Do you have any sharpies? Or a permanent marker or something like that?" Trevor untangled himself from around your body when he felt the time was right. He didn't wait for your answer before he started to rummage through the drawers of junk that were in the kitchen.

Trevor wasn't about to act like he all the answers in world or like he was going to be the one to fix you. Because in reality that would be impossible, you needed someone trained in that field to help you long term. But that didn't mean that he couldn't help in the moment or at least try.

And he had an idea, something that he had seen when he was younger. A reminder for when your feelings got a little too big for you to handle by yourself. It also a place holder until he was able to help you find the correct help you needed. Because he wasn't going to leave you alone to deal with this on your own.

"Um. I think there might be one in the cup next to the sink." You mumble trying to remember where they were. You knew you had some. "Or else it's in with my art supplies. I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Hey now. There is nothing to be sorry about y/n." Trevor carried you over to your couch and making his way to your art corner to start scrounging around for that marker.

It took him a minute to find your collection, it turned out they were with the art supplies that hadn't been touched in months. He picked out two colors, purple and blue, your favorite color along with one of his.

Returning to where he had left you, he made himself comfortable. He snagged a blanket from the bin and laid it across the both of you. Trevor wasn't

"Give me your arm" He said, not asking. You didn't have the strength to question what his motives were, so you presented him with your wrist full of healing scars. He grimmaced seeing them, wondering how long this had been going on and why he didn't notice earlier.

Trevor took the purple marker starting to draw something. He started off with the body, adding some sort of antenna to what was supposed to be it head. He then took the blue marker and made wings on either side of its body.

"A butterfly?" You question rubbing and tracing over the temporary tattoo with the tip of your finger.

Your friend nodded and explained the simple rules: you want the butterfly to live by letting it fade naturally and reapplying it when you feel that certain urge. Oh and if you do act on those urges the butterfly dies.

You could do that. Or at least try. It seemed easy enough.

"You think she's gonna like it?" Trevor asked peeling off the bandage that once covered his newly acquired tattoo that laid on his right shoulder. He was looking to get something new to add to his collection of art in his body and he chose a butterfly design.

"A butterfly?" Mason scratched his head. He was a little unimpressed and a bit confused. But that's because he didn't know the significance of the creature. "I don't know man, it just seems kind of-"

"Perfect, right?" Trevor finished his sentence. He had grabbed a warm wash cloth to clean the remaining goop off.

"I was gonna say weird. But whatever floats your boat." The younger man shrugged. He didn't care what Trevor decided to put on his body.

Trevor groaned, quickly finishing up his tattoo care so they could go meet up with you. You would like the new ink, he was pretty positive of it. He just needed to show it to you know.

You weren't paying attention to what you were doing. Sometimes you do things and it just sort of happens and you don't really remember it. It was almost like you were in some sort of trance. A trance that had you acting upon some of those heavy feelings that had been plaguing you lately.

"Shit" You mumbled when you heard the knocking on the door. You had completely forgotten that Trevor and Mason were coming over. There was a fresh mark on your arm that you needed to take care of.

You hurried to the bathroom in search of some sort of bandage for your arm. Maybe you could play it off as an accident. You didn't need to tell Trevor what had happened. It would be fine right? Oh god you hoped Trevor wouldn't notice.

You just found a bandage, when you spotted the butterfly you had just drawn on your arm the day before. You panic a little, the drawing didn't have a purpose anymore and had to go. You drop the band-aid to reach for a nail scrubber and start to get rid of the butterfly.

"Come on, Y/n, open the door!" Trevor banged on the door again.

"You think she forgot?" Mason crossed his arms. It wouldn't be the first time it slipped her mind that they were supposed to hang.

"No we were talking about it earlier. I highly doubt she forgot so soon." Trevor frowned unsure what to do. Should he wait for you, maybe you were still getting ready. But he had a sinking suspicion that wasn't the case.

Trevor fished the key you had given him out of his pocket and opened the door. He suggested Mason stay there. Mason had no idea what Trevor had walked into last time something like this had happened, so he agreed to stay put.

Cautiously he entered your apartment and started to look around for you. He found you in the bathroom scrubbing away. He notice the red on your arm and put two and two together.

"Hey, Y/n?" He called out. He wasn't fully sure if you had completely heard him so he tried reaching you again. "Can you hear me?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry" You continue what you were doing.

"Hey. Listen to me. You're okay. It happens. I'm not mad." Trevor wanted to grab onto your wrists to get you to stop scrubbing at the butterfly that had already been cleanly washed off, but you swore you could still see a piece of it. Instead he grabbed onto your shoulders and turned you to face him so wrap his arms around you and pull you in close. "It's okay. Wanna draw a new one?"

Let me know what you think! Anything is appreciated!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 2

Day One | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Three

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked.

Warnings: Public sex (car sex); roleplaying; blowjob; cumplay; fingering

“You come here often?” 

You’ve talked about this, sure, but your question still makes him dip his head, his cheeks going pink with embarrassment. You can’t help but smile, biting the inside of your cheek to keep it from becoming a full-blown grin. You scooch your bar stool a little closer, tipping your head into his field of vision. 

“Am I bothering you?” You ply softly. 

“No.” 

“You sure?” 

For a moment, you think he’s going to back off, to mutter, “Red light.” But he nods, and turns his face toward yours a little, and insists,

“I’m sure.” 

You let your grin bloom then, leaning against the bar. You reach out, gently tipping the brim of his hat up to get a better look at his kind, dark eyes. 

“So?” You press. “You come here often?” 

“I’ve been here a time or two before. You?” 

“Nope. I’m just passing through. Or, well—” You let out a put upon sigh, “I was supposed to be. My car broke down, so I called for a tow.” 

“This late?” He pushes his sleeve back to eye his watch. 

“Yeah. They won’t be able to help me out until morning.” 

The man frowns, raising his hand to scratch at his chin. 

“What are you planning on doing until then?” 

“Gee, I don't know,” You sigh again. You can see him fighting back a smile at your use of gee. “Do you know any good motels around here?” 

“Tell ya what,” He sits up, “Why don’t I take a look at your car? I might be able to get it up and running just enough to get you where you need to go.” 

“Really?” You brighten. “What would that cost me?” 

He waves you off lightly. “Let’s just…See what the damage is, first.” 

-- 

He seems to balk at how far you parked from the bar. He casts cursory glances around the otherwise empty, dimly lit parking lot. 

“It’s lucky that you were able to pull off safely,” He comments. “Why don’t you, uh—Pop the hood and try getting it to start?” 

He keeps a careful distance as you climb into the car, shutting the door behind yourself and popping the hood. Once it’s raised entirely, you try to start the car. It lets out a cranking noise before you cut out the engine again. You hear him huff a soft, disbelieving laugh before he mumbles, “What did you do.” 

You step out of the car, leaning against the side and watching the man shine a light under the hood. His brow furrows before he reaches inside, rummaging for something. You hear a clank, then a clonk, and then— 

You tip your head to the side, watching as the man leans back with something in his hand. 

“What’s that?” You ask, nodding toward it. 

“It’s a wrench.” 

You push your lips into an innocent, o. “Now how the heck did that get in there?” 

“Haven’t the faintest idea, ma’am.” 

“How can I thank you, Mister…?” 

“You can just call me Frankie, no need for 'mister' anything. And really, I’m just glad I could help.” 

“There must be something that I can do,” You insist as he shuts your car hood.

“It’s really not…” He goes quiet as you step closer, hooking your fingers in the belt loops of your jeans. He swallows thickly, gaze dropping to your breasts, then to your hands. “Not…Necessary.” 

“You sure?” You step closer, pressing your body up against his. “I really,” Your gaze sweeps over from his eyes, to his lips, then up again, “Really want to thank you.” 

Frankie swallows thickly, adam's apple bobbing like a fishing fly in a lake. He finally manages, “Not here.” 

“Where?” 

He nods toward the car, and you smile salaciously, using your grip on his belt loops to tug him closer to you. 

“It might be a tight fit,” You warn, “You’re so damn broad.” Your lips widened to a grin as he flushes red, his embarrassment plain even in the dark. You worry again that he'll call off the game, but he grasps your wrists, insisting, “I’m sure we’ll manage.” 

--  

“Oh my god,” He mumbles. You grin, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock before he leaned down, taking more of his shaft into your mouth. You twist your hand around the length, spreading your spit as it slips from the sides of your mouth and working in a steady motion between your lips and the blunt edge of his zipper. You go still as he rests his hand on the back of your head, fucking between your lips. You can’t help but whimper with each thrust, gagging slightly as he shoves just a touch too far into your throat. 

“Fuck, sorry—” He breathes, sliding his hand down to your neck, but you won’t have any of it. You push yourself down again, gagging roughly, and forcing yourself there for as long as you can manage. You finally draw off with a gasp, tipping your head up to swipe your tongue along the head of his cock. Frankie’s mouth falls open, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as he nods hurriedly. 

You grin, jacking his cock even harder and closing your lips to suck around the head of his cock. His thighs go tight, a shaky swear passing from his lips as he cums suddenly. You close your eyes as his cum spurts across your lips and cheek, his hips giving aborted little jolts as he desperately tries not to rock the car or draw attention to the two of you. 

He finally sags back in the seat, groaning and drawing his hat down over his face. You grin, leaning back and swiping fingers across your face, gathering the few stray drops of cum. You wait until he pushes his hat back up to slide your fingers between your lips. 

“Goddamn,” He growls, grasping your jaw and drawing him up for a kiss. You wobble a little, planting your hand on the back of the seat as you grin against his lips.

"Here," He reaches down, grasping the seat level and sliding the seat as far back as it'll go. "C'mere." He steers you to sit on his lap, your legs splayed across the console to face the driver's seat. His fingers delve beneath the band of your leggings, and you grin as his touch smooths over your dampening pussy.

"Fuck," He groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

"Something wrong?"

"No panties? Seriously?"

"Is that a problem?" You sass, spreading your thighs and tipping into his touch as his fingertips swipe across your clit. Frankie just groans, leaning in and giving your neck a sucking kiss.

"I saw you put them on after we showered."

"I changed my mind about them."

"You drive me crazy," He mumbles. You hook your arm around his shoulder, sliding your fingers up into the curls at the nape of his neck.

"You love it."

Frankie chuckles against your skin, nipping it gently as he swirls his fingers around your tingling clit. You sigh as his fingers slip slickly over your skin, letting your head fall back against the cool window as you drive your hips into his touch.

"Is that what you need?" He murmurs, "Did you like that?"

"Yes—"

"You liked picking me up?"

"Frankie—"

"Pretending you were bringing me back to fuck in your front seat? Would you take me home if you didn't know me?" His pace picks up, hand swiping with an almost vicious speed. You shiver, grip tightening in his hair as you chase your release.

"Would you let me?" You whimper. You're so close, so goddamn close—

"In a heartbeat."

Your back bows as you cum sharply, mouth dropping open, only for Frankie to shove two fingers inside. He strokes along your tongue at the same speed and angle that he strokes your clit, keeping up the urging pressure until you feebly bat at his wrist. He stops then, resting his fingers over your pubic mound, his other hand lowering to rest over your shoulder, fingers slick with your spit.

"We have to go home," He mumbles.

"Why?" You pout, head still buzzing from your release. "You're not having fun?"

"I am, baby." He soothes, "But we're gonna need a bed for what I wanna do to you."

"The backseat's free."

"And it's all fun and games until the check engine light for my back comes on." He gives your pussy a friendly pat before drawing his hand out of your pants.

"Drive."

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @wild-rose-35 ; @daisyslibrary ; @informally-liz ; @andrastesflamingtitties ; @muchacha-encabronada ; @nerdygirl0414 ; @elen-aranel ; @ohbee-whatcanyoube ; @kmc1989 ; @quietpainter ; @thedreadandthefugitivemind ; @kaletastrophes ; @nyx2021

[starneteyam]

hiii, luv <3 hru?

i saw that your requests were open and i have a scenario that has been living in my head rent free. i will totally understand if you don't like it or it's not your style of writing, so please take it more as a suggestion!

you know that moment in the beginning of avatar 2 where neteyam gets injured after following lo'ak into the middle of the attack and it makes jake super worried? can you write a drabble of something like, after neteyam gets his injuries treated, he goes after reader who was also on the mission, but in a different area, so she doesn't know what happened to him to check up on her and then the moment she sees him hurt she gets super troubled and distressed, but he calms her up and they have a super cute moment after. pure fluff: just him venting about the pressure of being the perfect son, his worries towards his family and she reassuring him that he doesn't have to be perfect all the time and that he’ll always be safe with her… that kind of thing. maybe that’s the first time they ever said ‘i see you’ to each other ? idk, it’s up to you <3

i’ve been missing my baby boy sm lately so i’ve been daydreaming a lot :( thank you in advance and i hope you have a great day !! i love your content <3

MINE IS YOURS, YOURS IS MINE ★

🖇️ char. Neteyam x fem! Omaticaya! reader

🖇️ warn. None, best friends to lovers

🎥 In which Neteyam gets injured during an attack on the Sky people, and you worry about him

A/N Tysm for requesting!! I love this scenario it’s so cute :( I kind of ate this oneshot ngl 😜

Even though Neteyam was your best friend, he was very affectionate with you. He liked resting his head on your shoulder, and he loved the way you comforted him. Something about you made him so calm, and you made all his worries go away with a single smile. He was basically glued to your hip, and nobody would see you without the other.

But as you grew, the Sky People started becoming more aggressive and frequent with their attacks, and Neteyam was becoming older, which meant he would start going out into battle with his father, along with Lo’ak. You would be situated in a different group, in charge of grabbing any medicine you could loot from the cargo. You hated the fact that you had to wish Neteyam safety as you watched him fly into danger and possible death, but you knew he was only doing overwatch work, which meant he wouldn’t be in the battle field. He would come back without a scratch, every single time.

That was, until today. Lo’ak decided it would be a great idea to go down to ground and “help out”, and being his older brother, Neteyam followed. After a missile striked near where the two of them were, he got blown back and injured, getting cuts and bruises scattered all over his body, losing consciousness for a few seconds. You had seen the missile, furrowing your eyebrows as you watched it hit the ground. Your heart burned anytime any of your people got hurt, and you just hoped nobody who you knew had gotten hurt, or worse.

After flying back to the caves, of course, he got an earful from his father, who was very clearly disappointed in him. ‘I tried to stop him,’ Neteyam wanted to argue, but he bit his tongue and stayed quiet. His father dismissed him with a huff, and Kiri led Neteyam to her grandmother to get himself treated. You, on the other hand, was still at the train tracks, looking carefully for any medicine or herbs you could fine, taking hours.

You finally flew back to the caves, groaning, as your legs were sore and your feet were scratched. You turned your head, cracking some joints as you entered the first aid tent, seeing nobody inside. It was already dark out, and you could hear nothing but the sound of ikrans crying around you. You sat on the floor, unpacking your looted items, drained. “You’re back.” You heard a voice from behind you, and it was as if all the tiredness just suddenly went away, a smile creeping onto your face as you immediately recognized the voice, your heart skipping a beat.

You turned around, and your smile soon disappeared as quick as it came. “Neteyam!” You gasped, looking at his body full of cuts and scratches, his ribs covered with bruises. You stepped forward, your hand hovering his injuries as the other cupped your open mouth. “What happened?” You asked, your hand grabbing his wrist as you looked up at him. He looked down at your worried expression and frowned.

“Lo’ak.” He replied shortly, his voice soft and quiet. Your ears turned downwards as you heard his voice full of hurt. “You need to be more careful, Neteyam. Are you alright?” You rambled, not knowing wether to be angry or concerned. “What if you had gotten killed? I would’ve- I…” Your breaths were patterned, and he immediately reassured you by cupping the side of your face with his palm, forcing you to look at him. “I’m alright.” He told you sternly, and you let out a shaky breath, closing your mouth and nodding firmly.

He sighed as he leaned into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he fit you like a puzzle piece, melting into you. This is what Neteyam had been longing for. You hugged him back, one hand on the back of his head as you lightly pet him. “It was that missile, no?” You asked quietly in his ear, and he said nothing but nodded.

You stayed silent for a few heartbeats, letting him relax into your touch. “It wasn’t your fault.” You told him, knowing he needed to hear it. He pulled away, scoffing as he walked past you. “Tell that to my father.” He mumbled, plopping onto the floor. You let out a tiny sigh. Jake was too harsh on Neteyam, everybody knew that. You couldn’t imagine the pressure Neteyam held. If Lo’ak, or even his other siblings were to get themselves killed, you knew Neteyam would blame himself—and you feared that the most.

You sat on the floor next to him, and as if you were a magnet, he leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder. “It is Lo’ak’s fault, I told him to stop, to come back! He never listens, and he never apologizes.” He complained, looking at the floor as he played with his fingers, frustrated. You stayed quiet as you listened to him ramble, knowing he just needed to rant. He talked on and on for what felt like hours, and you just sat there, listening, playing with his fingers and hair as you did. You would do anything for him.

“Neteyam.” You called to him, interrupting him as you scooted in front of him, grabbing both his hands. “It was not your fault.” You pronounced each word carefully as you shook both hands, and he frowned, looking away as he shrugged his shoulders. “I know, but-”

You interrupted him again, this time, hand on his jaw so he would stop looking away, and look at you and you only. “Not but, Neteyam. It was not your fault Lo’ak decided to wander off, and I’m more worried about you!” You huffed, frustrated. “You’re terribly injured and you nearly got killed!” You brought your hands to his face, softly brushing your thumbs across his cheeks as your searched his face. “I worry for you, Neteyam. I care for you.” Your words got quieter as the words you always wanted to say now sat on the tip of your tongue.

You closed your mouth, sighing through your nose before opening your mouth to speak again. “Your father may not see it, but I do.” Your mouth opened and closed as you hesitated to say the words. He looked at you expectantly, leaning into your palm. “I see you, Neteyam.” You said quietly and slowly, making sure the words sunk into his heart.

The words flowed out of your mouth, and you saw Neteyam’s expression change to a relieved one. Without warning, he leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as he pushed his lips against yours, a hand on the ground as he did so. It was a deep, slow kiss, your breath getting lost in his mouth as he moved his lips rhythmically, moving in sync with yours. It was as if a dam had been broken, all of your feelings flowing into that one kiss. He pushed against you eagerly, almost knocking you back.

You longed for this moment since forever, and so has he. All the days you had spent, hugging each other with care or looking at each other with eyes that would never look at anybody else the same — all of it being released. After one final, deep kiss, he pulled away, eyes flickering from your lips to your doe eyes, still feeling the ghost of his lips on yours. Your breath tickled his skin, a shiver being sent down his spine. He let out a small laugh, as if only now realizing he had finally kissed you, and you smiled back. “And I see you—only you.” He told you.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

I’d love to request a fic with a female reader and a angsty/comfort storyline with the Bad Batch.

For a broad storyline I was thinking something by along the lines of a female reader joining the Bad Batch (per Hunter’s idea) and Crosshair and/or Echo not being very happy about it. However they eventually they come around to having another girl in the group.❤️

Winning Approval

Clone Force 99 x Platonic!Reader

Summary- You felt as if you were living a purpose-less life, so when Hunter asks you to join his crew, you say yes! Not everyone on the force is as happy though... Takes place during and after Season 1, Ep. 2.

A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I appreciate it so much, but I think I'm done writing platonic xD. This was sooo hard for me to write. I love the challenge, but i'm not sure how great my platonic writing skills are!

Word Count- 1,454

Growing up, helping people seemed natural. You remember discovering this when your old friend Kaiya fell and scratched her knee. It was second nature to dress her wound and comfort her. You were nine at the time.

Your mother enrolled you in medical classes as much as she could, you learned how to set bones, stitch holes, and treat infections. Amongst many other skills.

The city you lived in was soon taken over by the empire, but you found a way out before it was too late. That's where you found yourself- living with Suu and her husband Cut. The two had taken you in when they found out your home had been destroyed.

It didn't hurt when you found out you and Suu's parents knew each other in their youth.

When you had stumbled onto Hunter- he and his crew had set off a trap you had set in the fields. Your gun raised at him was lowered by Cut, claiming he knew them.

Things blurred together since then, everything moved so fast. Having to relocate away from the empire again was not something you fashioned. You were tired of running, and expressed your concerns.

Hunter initially suggested dropping you off at the planet of your choice, (a repayment for taking care of one of Omegas wounds).

Crash landing on a moon wasn't on anyone's roster, but it happened nonetheless. It did, however, give yourself an opportunity to prove yourself to them.

You helped Tech repair a part of the hyper-drive, earning his favor.

You shared your rations with Wrecker, earning his approval.

You played and entertained with Omega, earning her and Hunters trust.

Last was Echo. You wanted him to like you, as you enjoyed everyone's company. They were so kind to you, and didn't pay any mind to flaws. They knew themselves that they were defective- what was one more defect?

Maybe you were in over your head, would they really accept you as a member of their squad? They just met you a week ago. For all they knew you were an Empire spy... You couldn't deny that you wanted to stay though. You felt like you belonged- finally.

When Echo still avoided you like the plague and the ship was ready to fly again, you felt like you had run out of time. You sulked around the ship for awhile, waiting for Hunter to ask where you wanted to be dropped off.

That was until you noticed- he hadn't asked you. It had been hours and he had said nothing about you leaving.

This made you crack, anxiety like ice through your veins.

"Hunter, I mean this in the least selfish way possible. But, why haven't you asked where I wanted to go yet? What planet?" You thought you messed up when his face fell. He looked dissapointed?

"Well, we were hoping you would want to stay. We were going to formally ask, but Wrecker and Omega are still making the poster." He rubbed the pack of his neck and chuckled a little bit. "Would you like to join us? If not, that's completely understandable. Just name the planet and we will be headed there." He stated, making sure you knew you had options.

"R-really? You guys want me to join you?" You wanted to smack your head at how cliche you sounded. Though, you didn't have time to think on it, as Hunter started talking again.

"We don't have an official medic. While Tech possesses all the knowledge needed, he doesn't have a, uh how do I put it? A steady hand when it comes to medical means." He reasoned.

"You are more than capable as we've seen, and between Wrecker and Omega we need a medic- bad." You smiled at this. You felt a purpose. Someone needed you! You would be able to help your squad and civilians you came across on any journey.

Before you could respond, Omega and Wrecker barreled through the mid-section of the ship. Omega held a small banner in her hand, and Wrecker a large sheet of paper. It was full of colorful pictures, drawn by the two.

Your heart warmed at the effort they put in, all to make you feel welcomed.

"How could I say no? You guys have been so perfect to me, and I want to help you guys as much as I can." You smiled up at Hunter, he patted you on the shoulder. His way of officially letting you on the squad.

After that day, things started to move more smoothly. Yeah, you had some bad run-ins, almost got captured a few times, and had many near-death experiences. But, you were with your family through it all. The only problem was Echo.

Maybe 'problem' wasn't too nice of a word. Echo never did anything wrong. He just, never seemed to like your company. You guessed he didn't have to like you, not everyone would. Because of this, you pushed back your guilty feelings surrounding him. That was until you over-heard a conversation between him and Hunter.

"Something feels off about her." Echo told Hunter. You couldn't see either of them, and didn't want to expose your position by moving.

"Yeah, and what's that?"

"I can't place it. I don't understand how everyone can just accept her, no questions asked." Echo sounded confused.

"She's shown us many times that she can handle herself. Plus, Omega needs another female on the ship.'' Hunter defended you, but still wanted to hear Echos concerns.

"She's not a clone. She doesn't think like us!" Ah, so that's why he's been so put-off by you. It was because you weren't a clone. You assumed he was so used to clones, that of course you were an odd piece in their clone family.

You slowly moved back to your sleeping cot. You sunk down slowly. It wasn't your fault, really. You can't control where or how you were born. Thoughts surrounded you. Was it that obvious? Were you that different from them?

As much as you wanted to pack your bags and not burden anyone else, you decided to talk to Echo first.

After landing on a planet to resupply, you asked to speak to Echo alone.

"Uh, sure." He replied, skeptical. You both exited the ship, though keeping close.

"Echo, I didn't really know how to bring this up. I figured I should just get straight to the point?" You asked, not wanting to waste his time.

He nodded, looking straight to you.

"I overheard you and Hunter talking last rotation..." You nervously picked at a nail. He still stared, not wavering.

"I can't help that i'm not a clone. I'm not sorry either, but I do want to know what I can do. To gain your trust." You dropped your hand, eager for his response.

He licked his lips, thinking. "I'm sorry you heard that..."

"Echo, I don't care. I just- I want to be a part of this family..." You mustered out. Now or never!

This surprised him, "What are you talking about. You already are!"

He seemed, mad? Was he really that disgusted by 'normal' humans?

"I can't help that i'm not a clone!" You regrettably yelled, throwing you arms up.

"That doesn't matter, everyone accepts you anyways!" His words were strained, like he didn't want anyone to know.

"Why don't you?" You whispered.

He sighed and took a step back. "When I first joined force 99, it wasn't as easy."

You couldn't imagine what he was referring to. You knew he was a regular clone before joining Hunter, but what did that have to do with anything?

After seeing your confused look, he continued. "I wasn't born a defective clone, I became one. It took a lot of time to understand how to use this. But you fit in so easily." He gestured to his mechanical arm.

"I had no idea you felt that way... I wasn't trying to mean anything-" He cut you off.

"I know, and really, we do need a medic. I was just being resentful, I'm sorry."

"I'm not trying to take anyone's place. The team wouldn't be the same without you. Besides, Omega adores you, and I think Hunter will do whatever it takes to keep her happy." You laughed, he luckily gave out a chuckle as well.

"Thanks. I think It'll just take some time to get used to the difference." He said, honestly.

"I get that, just let me know if there's anything I can do... Ya know, to speed things up?" You smiled up at him. It was then that you knew everything would be fine. That you really had found your family, and nothing could take you from them.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I am sorry if this isn't what you had in mind! Feel free to send in another request if you would like a more specific plot! Again, sorry that my platonic writing skills aren't that sharp! Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[misc-obeyme]

First Aid for Beel

What! Another daily chat scene so soon?? Yeah, I dunno, I should be working on my book but man sometimes I just gotta write some fluff, ya know? Anyway, I wanted to do a scene for Beel that wasn't about food, so here's this. I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I don't think it's terrible? Anyway, Belphie's coming up next.

GN!MC x Beelzebub

Warnings: injury, blood

BEELZEBUB MC, could you bring me a first aid set?

MC Did you get hurt?

BEELZEBUB Yeah, I took a fall during club activities. I was hoping you could bring me some bandages and an antiseptic solution.

MC I'll head over straight away!

BEELZEBUB Thanks. But it's not a major injury, so there's no need to rush. I wouldn't want you falling down and getting hurt as well. I'll be waiting.

You were in the House of Lamentation when you received Beelzebub's message. Even though it said not to rush, you did anyway. The idea of Beel being hurt in any capacity was stressing you out. You ran to the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit, nearly colliding with Levi on your way back out. His shouts of protest didn't even register as you made your way to the front door.

You burst out of the House and started immediately toward RAD. You knew he was likely still out on the field behind RAD, where the sports teams did their various practices after school.

When you got to the field area, you looked around and it didn't take you long to spot him. There were certainly a lot of groups of demons around, most of them engaged in some kind of physical activity, but Beel's orange hair made him easy to find in any crowd. He was sitting down on the grass, watching the others as they went through various drills.

You made your way over to him, moving through groups of demons as you went. Some of them looked at you askance, but most people had probably figured out what you were doing there. Even if they hadn't, you didn't care in the slightest.

You finally reached Beel's side and dropped down beside him in the grass. He was wearing a practice uniform - black shorts and a black t-shirt with the RAD logo on it.

"What happened?" you asked, setting down the first aid kit next to you.

Beel smiled when he saw you. "MC. Thanks for coming. I just got scraped up a little. It's not a big deal."

Beel turned slightly so you could see his leg.

You gasped and reached out, your hands hovering uselessly over the injury. It was much worse than you had been anticipating. There were three deep large cuts going down Beel's leg from knee to ankle. The edges were jagged and they were seeping with dark blood. It was slowly running down the side of his calf, dripping onto the grass.

You looked up at him, eyes wide. "Beel! You said it wasn't a major injury!"

"It isn't," Beel said calmly, tilting his head in confusion.

"What happened?"

Beel rubbed at the back of his head. "I tripped over Gamigin and it startled him so much, he went into demon form. He's got some long claws and he tried to grab onto me to stop himself from falling, too. We both ended up falling."

You took out the antiseptic and frowned. Would the bandages in the first aid kit even be enough to deal with this? You glanced at Beel, who looked completely unbothered, then applied the antiseptic to the wounds as well as you could. Beel didn't react, only watched you.

"This may not seem like a big deal to you," you said as you worked. "But an injury like this would be very painful for a human. So you have to understand why I'm concerned."

"But I'm a demon, not a human," Beel said. "It's just a scratch to me."

You sighed, finishing with the antiseptic before moving on to the bandages. You wrapped them around Beel's leg, keeping them tight enough to stop the blood flow, but not so tight that it would be painful. Though you realized you could no longer be certain about Beel's pain tolerance levels.

"There," you said, as you tied the bandage. "That should be okay."

"Thanks, MC," Beel said. He blushed a little. "I really appreciate you coming out here to help me."

You sighed. "Of course I'll be here when you need me."

You weren't looking at Beel, your eyes still on his injured leg, your fingertips running along the edge of the bandage you had applied.

You were surprised to feel his arms around your shoulders. "It's okay, MC," he said. "You don't have to worry so much. I don't like seeing that look on your face."

Although you knew there were plenty of other students around to see, you returned Beel's embrace. You had to get on your knees to hug him properly, considering his large size. You nuzzled your face into his neck and sighed.

"I can't help it," you said. "I don't like seeing you hurt."

Beel chuckled, a low rumbling in his chest that somehow put you at ease. "I know, but I'm going to be okay. I have you to take care of me."

You leaned back, your hands on Beel's shoulders, his on your waist. You smiled at him, though you knew the worry was likely still visible on your face. You pressed a light kiss to his lips, then stood up.

"Can you walk? I think it's time to go home," you said.

You offered him a hand. He took it, but it was obvious he didn't need your help to stand.

"I'm all right," he said. "I can stay-"

"Absolutely not!" you interrupted. "You're coming home with me right now."

"But-"

"Don't argue," you said. You picked up the first aid kit and started off of the field toward home, tugging Beel along by his hand. He paused to grab his bag, which likely held his equipment and usual RAD uniform.

He seemed content to let you lead on, but you noticed the way his hand tightened around yours. You kept your fingers threaded with his as you began the walk back to the House of Lamentation.

You were halfway across campus in an area with few people and many trees when Beel stopped. You turned to him immediately, concerned that his leg was more painful than he had realized. But he just pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you. His bag had been dropped at his feet.

"I meant what I said, MC," he said quietly, his eyes locked with yours. "You really don't have to worry so much. It's a minor injury for me, just like I said."

You smiled. "You can say that until you're blue in the face, but I'm going to worry about you all the same."

Beel blushed then, a soft pink dusting across his cheeks. You kissed him again and this time, you lingered a bit before pulling away, your hands clasped tightly as you continued on your way home.

others in this series:

Mammon | Barbatos | Solomon | Lucifer | Simeon

Leviathan | Asmodeus | Diavolo | Belphegor | Satan

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[tsukimefuku]

Team fighting

You decided to train team fighting with Higuruma in an unorthodox way.

Tags: Jujutsu Kaisen, f!reader, light Higuruma x reader, crack taken seriously, fluff.

WC: 1.1K

The song (heh): Aozora Lonely - Sunny Day Service (on YouTube)

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a Nanami x Reader x Higuruma long fic I might write. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots and short stories, please visit my masterlist :) 

Disclaimer: they’re NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.

"Are you... Serious? Aren't we a little too old for that?" The former lawyer asked, sat beside your makeshift dorm room bed, incredulous, as you pointed at your phone, showing him a video of two teenagers playing Dance Dance Revolution. You sighed, because even though he had a point, you thought it'd be beneficial to try it in order to develop your synergy in the field.

You had been working alongside Higuruma for two weeks now, and on your third mission by his side, you had to save the sorcerer from being hit by the poison curse both were fighting, rendering you bedridden. Furthermore, you still had a couple of days to rest, but thought that, as long as there wasn't any actual fighting or cursed energy manipulation involved, you'd probably be just fine.

"Look, playing things like these has helped me improve my control over my cursed energy. It teaches you to move without thinking." You pointed out. "But if we do it together, maybe you will learn to sync your movements with someone else's. God knows you need it."

He scratched the side of his temple with his thumb, pensive, without any faith this would work. "I can get behind the principle in what you're suggesting, but aren't you still in your recovery period?"

"I am, but this is just dancing, not actual heavy training, you know? I think I'll be fine."

He looked at you, wearing pajamas and sitting on your bed. You still had a few wound dresses around your face and neck. The video showed an extremely vigorous dance game session, with all the jumping, stomping and pirouetting. Higuruma thought to himself that sparring would probably be a lighter exercise routine when compared to this. 

"This looks pretty intense, and no offense intended, but you don't seem to be ready for this much exercise at the present moment." He said, still staring at the screen.

You sighed, a little defeated, and leaned back against the wall on the side of your bed to think of an alternative. Even if he wasn't right — and he was —, there was still the issue of leaving Jujutsu High's headquarters and walking around Tokyo to find a joint that had Dance Dance Revolution.

Then, you had an idea.

"Higuruma, get up and put your chair over there." You said, pointing to a corner of the room. Curious, he followed suit, as you got up, and started to search around the songs you had saved on your phone. "I had an idea."

"And what was that? I might get behind it, or leave you to your own devices. You still need to rest and shouldn't be coming up with these kinds of shenanigans." He said, putting one of his hands inside his pants' pocket. Even if he was more open to collaborating accordingly with Jujutsu High, his demeanor was mostly uncooperative, overall. Higuruma was still feeling like a wild animal in domestication process, and you noticed that, trying to propose this exercise to chip away at his aloof facade. If this got him to fight less like a suicidal maniac, you'd be satisfied enough.

"I'm doing this in order to not get hurt again when trying to protect you from your lack of practice fighting alongside other people" you told him, still searching for something to play. He opened his mouth to answer you, but felt a light surge of guilt, choosing not to say anything instead. After all, it was his fault that you were injured like that. These little pinches of guilt and remorse creeping up on him were bringing Higuruma back to the real world and its consequences, after what happened when he awakened his cursed technique.  

"Ah, here it is." You finally found a song, and let your phone on standby over the bed. "We will dance together, and you'll let me lead, okay?"

He huffed, somewhere between a sigh and a sardonic chuckle, still in disbelief at your idea. "I have no problem with that, but is this really necessary?"

"Firstly, I'm bored out of my mind. If I don't do anything, I might actually go insane locked up in this room." You began answering. "Also, you're great when fighting alone, but an absolute menace to any ally around you when fighting with company. We can't have that being the norm when you're stuck working with me, and I'm stuck working with you."

Higuruma sighed, defeated, and acquiesced.

You took both of his hands and pulled him to stand right in front of you. Then, raised one of them to rest over your waist, holding the other around shoulder-high, and rested your own palm on his shoulder. "Are you ready?" You asked.

He simply shrugged. "I guess. I must warn you that I am not very good at this, though."

You smiled and parted from his hand briefly, extending your finger to press 'play', beginning to waltz around to the beat of the song. You chose something easy and slow enough to start out. Higuruma was stiff as hell, so you tried the simplest thing you could, trying to guide him two steps back, two steps forward. Your efforts were fruitless. He was sturdy and his body would simply not budge. The sorcerer was clearly having a lot of difficulty following your lead, ending up stepping over your toes a few times. On top of that, he was trying to follow your movements by looking at your feet, as opposed to feeling the movements of your body and following along.

"Ouch! Higuruma, what the hell? I feel like I'm dancing with a rock." You told him, stopping for a second.

"In my defense, I informed you I wasn't good at this" he pointed out.

You sighed. "This isn't difficult." You looked at Higuruma and pulled him closer, so he wouldn't have room to be looking at your feet in between your bodies. "Come on, look at my face, not our feet."

You felt his body tightening, as his shoulders stiffened and rose up slightly, startled at the sudden way your bodies had pressed against each other. You tapped the hand you had over one of his shoulders and said, "relax. If you don't, I won't have toes at the end of this. Inhale, exhale, you know the drill."

"Fine." Higuruma closed his eyes, inhaled, held his breath, exhaled and then looked at you. He seemed more focused now, and you began to dance again, pulling and pushing him slowly to the beat of the music. This time, he had his eyes locked on yours, and followed your steps appropriately, so you began to increase the difficulty. You started to dance circularly, and he followed your waltzing effortlessly, as you smiled at him.

"There you go. See? You're not so bad," you said, "not bad at all."

For the first time in months, he truly smiled. This was the first time you saw him smiling, actually, and you returned the expression.

Higuruma began thinking to himself that this, maybe, was really not bad at all. 

[jupiterredolent]

ALEXIS GETTY & SAM COLLINS

I think what appalls me is that people scale over these crucial details when defending Alexis' actions against Sam. It has me scratching the crown of my head every time. By all means, say what you will about her, but do not proceed to tell people they are in the wrong for having opposing views toward Alexis, specifically speaking with the audience on Tiktok.

Now to start, in the seventh video of the Vampire Mate series, Audio RP| Getting Closer to Your Vampire Mate, Sam states, “She (Alexis) and I were friends of the sort back when I was still human. The kind of friends that don’t do much talking when they’re together if you catch my drift. I didn’t want anything more than that and she kept saying she felt the same.” [8:01 secs - 8:30 secs]

Sam stated clearly that both he and Alexis had a mutual understanding of their relationship and that it would be nothing more than sexual. Thus, Sam never wanted and never saw an eternity with Alexis, nor was he willing to make that sacrifice.

“A friends-with-benefits (FWB) relationship is one in which two people are physically (sexually) intimate with one another, yet they’re not committed to each other in any way. People involved in a friends-with-benefits relationship enjoy spending time together, but their relationship isn’t romantic and has no strings attached.” said Lloyd, Stacy Laura in the article “What Does Friends With Benefits Mean and Is It the Arrangement for You?” in Brides, 26 Sept. 2022,

Sam was incredibly passionate about being a healer. In the Redacted ASMR Timeline in 1999, Erik explains, “Sam starts coursework part-time at the Dahlia Academy for Magical Novices, pursuing certification in Healing.” And then in 2003, “Sam graduates from D.A.M.N. with his certification in Healing and begins work in the field.” With this, we have knowledge that not only was Sam exceedingly diligent, but was also greatly motivated in his studies.

In D.A.M.N., it's not outlandish to assume that they learned about all different types of species and magics, one of which included vampires. In Audio RP| Getting Closer to Your Vampire Mate, Sam says, “ […] I told Alexis I could do it, but she starts talking about turning me. And I told her no. I said I can do this and even if I can’t, I don’t want that. I don’t want to live like that […]” From this, it’s not unlikely to assume that Sam had a general idea of vampirism and knowledge about turnings. It was also likely he had several vampires as his patients during his work as a healer. Furthermore, he knew if he was turned, the healing magic that he adamantly cherished and enjoyed, would diminish tenfold and would have to be learned once again. “[...] I was a healer. Damn good one. One of the best.” Sam explains [12:20 secs - 12:28 secs]

Sam was at peace with being human. He understood that becoming a vampire meant solitude and the inability to take satisfaction in minuscule things in life as he used to.

Taking a step back, in Inversion| The Void They Leave Behind, Lovely’s life source has been stripped away by Shades which leaves them in a grave condition. Because healing is unable to penetrate what's been done to their core, Vincent is left with the tough decision of turning them. He says, “[...] Do you want this? It’s forever. I love you and I will spend eternity at your side if you let me. But I won’t do this unless it’s what you want. It would be a new life.” [31:44 secs - 32:17 secs] From this we can gather Alexis, a much older vampire and under the teachings of William, had exceptional knowledge of the extent of turning someone, the consequences of doing so without consent, and, even more so, knew this very fact when she and Sam got into that dire accident that also left him with life-threatening injuries.

Back to Audio RP| Getting Closer to Your Vampire Mate, Sam tells Darlin’, “[...] She starts grabbing my head, tilting it to the side, telling me she’s gonna make it all better, and I told her no. Pushed her hands. She was too…” [13:25 secs - 13:52 secs] Sam not only verbally told Alexis that he didn’t want to be turned, but physically too. Physically tried to shove her away. Later, he also tells them, “She made me look her in the eye and dug her nails into my skin so my eyes snapped open so she could trance me, and then she turned me.” [14:31 secs - 14:48 secs]

Again, in Inversion| The Void They Leave Behind, Sam says, “Your body knows how, Vincent. Blood for blood.” And then Vincent responds, “Blood for blood.” [32:48 secs - 33:00 secs] This alone makes me feel even more unsettled and quite frankly sickened by Sam’s turning because not only did she drink from him, but she deliberately forced him to drink her blood.

Most of what I’ve seen on the defense of Alexis has not only made it seem that Sam’s suffering and trauma from his circumstance should be disregarded, but has made it seem she should be forgiven for her horrid actions and, frankly, crimes against him and his bodily integrity. Forgiveness is offered not owed, nor is it to be expected under any occasion.

That is all I have to say.

[canarydarity]

Tango hadn’t quite yet wrapped his mind around the fact that he was here. Having done it now three times before didn’t make starting over any easier, didn’t make the game any less terrifying. He tried not to let his eyes stray to the timer perpetually counting down in the corner of his vision, but it didn’t matter—each beat of his heart was a second, and his pulse was keeping time even if he was trying not to. 

Tango thrust the shovel back into the ground, the dirt on their island moist and clumpy instead of crumbling and dry, and resolutely ignored the reminder that this game—like all the others—would likely end with him fertilizing this very ground. He wasn’t really expecting to win. Tango had no idea why it was that he was here. 

“Oh, it’s Joel!” Etho called from the other end of their small patch of land, and the call sounded like a warning. At first, Tango was thinking about how you almost wouldn’t believe the two had been soulmates last time, but as he thought about it, he changed his mind; what is a soulmate but he who knows and understands you best of all? If Etho’s call was a warning, it was because he knew Joel demanded one. 

He hadn’t looked up, but the waves made by Etho’s boat washed further up the shore toward the ground Tango was terraforming, and he shuffled a step or two to the side in distaste. He hated the water; it always made him feel…extinguished. 

“I can’t believe you’ve replaced me with a cow, Etho!” 

Tango snorted. No offense to Joel, but he could. It was probably more telling of Etho though than his spurned ex-soulmate. 

Tango pulled his shovel out of the ground, tossing its contents off to the side. He primed to dig into the ground again.

“Hey guys, are you setting up here, by the way?”

He stopped. Tango knew that voice—he spent weeks obtaining fluency in its passive anxiety, in the undertones of worry about doing something wrong. 

He had no trouble finding Jimmy; Tango simply looked up and he was there, one hand in his pocket, the other scratching the back of his neck like he did when he was feeling unsure. His face was scrunched in a kind of wince and his eyes shifty, but this too was not unusual for him. The familiarity hit Tango like a truck—no, that wasn’t enough. What hit harder than a truck?

He hadn’t seen Jimmy since…

Since when? Since they’d watched Scar get eaten by zombies? Since they got separated in the commotion of having succeeded in leveling the playing field of green names and changing targets? Since whatever last brush of shoulders or arms or hands occurred before he fell to his knees, alone, on the doorstep of the boat Joel and Etho argued over now only a few feet away?

“Cause…we’re the bad boys and we were gonna set up here.” Jimmy finished awkwardly, trying to sound firm and falling flat; the phrase came off like it was said by a kid who was threatening you with a toy sword but acting like he could use it to deal you some good damage. 

Tango raised an eyebrow; it took him only a second later to realize that he was smiling (he wondered when that had started). Bad boys, huh? One guess as to where that name came from—but Tango couldn’t let his gaze stray from Jimmy to lay eyes on Joel; he heard him and Etho bickering in the background, but it breached not a thought in Tango’s mind. 

He wanted to laugh, or—no, he wanted to play scared; he wanted to double over and fake being in pain like anyone should do when pretend stabbed by a kid playing with things he couldn’t understand. 

But Joel was still yelling and Etho was still taunting, and the division between this little island and the hill across the water was clear. Tango dropped his shovel and wiped his hands off on his pants so he didn’t do anything stupider.

Skizz and Impulse giggled and laughed about Jimmy’s claims, but Jimmy seemed none the wiser; stopping to place a furnace and quickly cook some steak; glancing over his shoulder, glancing at those on the island, glancing at Joel. These games always made him jumpy, Tango knew that. 

Tango hadn’t looked away, which was how he knew Jimmy’s gaze didn’t land on him once. 

It was Etho that caught his attention at last. “No! Don’t you dare…”

Tango scrambled up the slant he was working on to see Etho on the other side rowing away, cow in tow, and Joel smirking on the edge of the sand, arrow notched. There was not a second more of observation before he let it fly and it made its mark. 

Tango whined at the loss; of course, Joel had no way of knowing just how hard a time they’d been having with their bovine friends, but even if he had, he’d likely just have laughed. 

“YES!” he heard Joel scream, jumping around in the sand; a sore-winner he definitely was. 

Tango was already skidding down the side of their island and into the water when Joel shouted again, “Jimmy, run!”

He heard his soulmates cry of “wait wait wait!” but wasted no glance backward as he climbed up onto the mainland, shaking water out of his hair as he did; steam evaporated off of him as droplets flew. 

“Hey!” Tango shouted after Joel, though he clearly only had eyes for antagonizing Etho. “that took us 30 minutes to find!” 

Tango was knocked over from behind before he got the chance to see if he’d managed to get through to Joel at all (this was probably for the best, as he definitely hadn’t). He felt the fine gravel of the sand dig into his palms where he caught himself, but he barely registered the tick of damage from the shove and subsequent collapse; not like he felt it from the realization of who it had come from.  

Eyes wide and blinking like he couldn’t believe what it was he’d done either, there was Jimmy, only a few feet away. His chest heaved from the running, but he was otherwise still, half turned towards where Tango kneeled on the ground, half turned towards where Joel was running off into the woods. 

Neither of them looked away. Tango felt his health regenerate, but he didn’t think he believed it. Sure, he was at full hearts, but then why did he feel like the sand beneath him was shifting and making space for his burial; had Grian coded in some sort of quicksand?

Tango used their hesitation to process the fact that this hit hadn’t harmed them both; he knew logically that it shouldn’t have, but the experience was something else entirely; the feeling somewhat akin to grief.

“C'mon, Jimmy,” fell out of the trees to which Jimmy’s back was turned, and Tango watched him tense as the sound reached them both. Also behind him and to their right was Etho climbing out of his boat, feet touching down on the shore, path ahead pre-determined. 

Jimmy broke their eye contact only to close his eyes, and when he opened them again he swallowed and said “sorry, rancher,” feet beginning to backpedal. It was quiet enough that Tango could believe it just for him, and that implication of not wanting anyone else to hear shoveled the last of the dirt on Tango’s corpse, surely, it had to. Jimmy didn’t turn away—not until he stumbled and absolutely had to, not being able to risk the danger of walking backwards anymore. 

Tango rubbed his hands on his pants, feeling the sand and stray pebbles peel themselves from the indents they’d created in his palms upon impact, scrambling to his feet to follow. He bent only to scoop up a rock on his way. 

Even just inside the first row of trees, the forest was a different place entirely. The beach fell away, but the scene change didn’t do anything to turn the tide of their circumstances. Tango stopped just behind Etho, caught up just in time to hear:

“Everything precious you have in this series, Joel, it’ll be taken from you, you understand?”

Joel didn’t look concerned. He was still smirking, still playing up the part of the bitter ex (and seemingly getting too much enjoyment out of it, for Tango's liking). It was just like Joel to enjoy the breakup more than the relationship. 

Jimmy was further away, half behind Joel and resolutely avoiding looking in Tango’s direction; he was always hiding behind things he was taller than. Tango remembered when Jimmy’s go-to source of cover used to be him. 

Joel just rolled his eyes, a scoff his only response. He placed both hands on Jimmy and pushed, jumpstarting him into moving. Tango somehow managed to resist the urge to narrow his eyes further. He dropped the rock he was holding—he felt stupid for grabbing it now; it wasn’t like he was going to throw it; it wasn’t like he was capable. 

Bad boys they’d said; the Jimmy that Tango remembered had been kind. Maybe he had to rework his definition of a soulmate; he didn’t think he wanted to. 

Etho turned too, having done what he’d intended. Tango felt more so than saw Etho pat him on the shoulder as he passed. He didn’t need to look at his timer to know that not even 3 minutes had passed. 

“Yeah, I’m with you, Etho,” he said—but he was still staring off into the trees. He watched until Joel and Jimmy had woven too far into them to be visible anymore, but Jimmy didn’t turn back once.

[crying-fantasies]

Fighting instincts

Masterlist

Heavily inspired by @michaela-o new work (hope you don't mind), just love the idea of fighting instincts on humans and while reading her work I was: How come I overlooked that?!

Some may ask how much of an organic DNA structure a terraformer sparkling has taken from the human creator.

It shows, barely, in physical traits described before, but in recent years some show way more noticeable things such as metallurgic imperfections on the derma (scars) some points of different color (similar to dots), in some cases even different kinds of paint appearing when the youngling is old enough as discoloration or degrading paint even when the quality and healthiness of nanites is the same.

But, when faced with difficult or way too stressing situations, some have been able to produce organic chemicals, maybe not sweat or tears, but chemicals that help their bodies to produce or increase their "organic instincts".

Imagine a feral human, like some bots call humans in dead or life situations, somehow increasing their strength and sharpness, more fluid while moving.

Now imagine that very same human but give it a few more meters, a hard like tank reinforcement exterior, and energon running in the circulatory system faster than any blood vessel could ever do with blood, and you have a Terraformer about to go feral.

It doesn't always happens, practically since all the terraformers have been forged in times of peace, but given the problem of being easy targets since they don't have experience in war have show quite the examples of responses to these situations.

With the records of New Cybertron the first one to show registered traces of human die or fight behavior in dire circumstances was Sabersky, it was in a mission far from Cybertron and they crashed without knowing in a neutral settlement that didn't know the actual situation back on New Cybertron.

Official in charge: Astrotrain, mentioned that: "They didn't have the slightest idea the war had ended, not even how to use a gun! When they saw my old decepticon insignia and Mariah's autobot badge they began shooting like crazy! Didn't even get a scratch of it, but the kids", his previous proud smile dropped, "the kids have never been in between open fire before, Mariah and Chainbreaker were the first ones to get injured, Bloodhorn tried to talk and made it worst, she was the next and then Sunset, I had to stop Cloudjolt from shooting back, I transformed back to alt mode to take them away as fast as possible, Sabersky was-" he paused, servo over his eyes, "Saber was behind me, I'm sure of it, I swear, I'm looking out for these reckless younglings at every moment, he is the second youngest and maybe the worst, I counted all of them, called out for him to contact back to Cybertron and he didn't say a word, when I looked back he wasn't there anymore".

Cadet Sabersky was shoot mid air, the blast and conservative fall destroyed his left wing and crashed on enemy territory, "I don't really remember what happened after they beat me", after his retrieval he was put on medbay, one of his wings wasn't fully developed, as it was new, but was attached to his frame, the content on his tank made more than one medic frantic for answers.

"Would you want to tell us what happened to you?", The psychiatrist asked softly, the youngling put a servo over his helm, feeling the dents around.

"I remember one of them took me by the helm", note: the subject looks angry to remember the events, making his servo a fist, "and started to smash me against the dirt", the fist collided against his open servo to put emphasis on the events, "I heard every one of them, like an echo!", Note: the patient is smiling, apparently to cover the gravity of the assault, "I thought: so I'm going to die here, just like pops said: if you're weak and the enemy gets you then it's over" he stopped the movement of his fist, smile faltering, the patient's field dropped, "I thought about them, mom and pops, I mean, pops is more than able to go on with his life! But mom, mom would have been sad if I died there... I can't remember".

Note: patient's wings dropped with his field.

"It angers me! I can't remember!"

Under the request of the patient an exploratory mnemosurgery was realized.

The mnemosurgeon had a hard time explaining what happened after suffering a panic attack in the middle of the procedure and also at the end of it, "I need to know how it could be possible!", was his answer before returning to his job, but in a resume after the physical attack started there was a strange rush in the patient's energon lines, a pulse, strange in it's nature before the HUD powered off, two nanoclicks of silence before the pulse reappeared, stronger, and he started to move again.

There was no way to explain it except that cadet Sabersky entered a strange stage of self preservation only comparable to the ones humans get ir order to survive, joints moved in impossible and painful directions, armor was loose in certain portions of the body to improve movement, and hunger, the cadet consumed some of his attackers, riping off their steel to consume it and also integrating it to his own body by something similar to new tissue generated by a process equal to human digestion and homeostasis.

"He looked like a dire wraith, but less deformed, I don't know how to explain it but he looked a lot like a human with armor, for Primus' sake, he started to move on four limbs, his vox glitched and he sounded like a human! How is that possible!", The surgeon seemed to be enthusiastic about the whole ordeal and the possible hypothesis around the event.

Note: Further research is needed, since terraformers are still a subject of many questions, we'll contact the scientists aboard the Lost Light since they are the first ones to have any information of the first individual.

Cadet Sabersky has zero recollections of the incident and the medical personnel has decided that was the best outcome of the whole situation to prevent bigger trauma.

[teecupangel]

time for another "are you familiar with":

Are you familiar with Ella Enchanted? because the idea just popped in my head of, William Miles, in his goal to make his son a better weapon, does something foolish. The assassins don't have any POE, not after the Purge, but they know about them, have studied the technology and made notes when they've had them in their possession.

William tries to create a POE, or at least, emulate the effects of one.

He doesn't start with human trials. He's not that wasteful. But the Apple in particular is *meant* to be used on humans, so it was always going to get there, eventually.

And maybe it was selfish of him. He can see how skilled his son is, silent, observant, a quick learner. He knows, *knows* that given time, Desmond can be the best of them. Can you blame a father for wanting his son to be even better than that?

But things go wrong, spectacularly so. The lab is a ruin; he'll have to start over from scratch, if he even chooses to.

Desmond isn't seriously hurt, thank goodness. He feels guilty, promises himself he'll put more safeguards in place, next time.

Only. Something about Desmond has changed. The boy, always eager to please, becomes even more so. William's barely issued an order before Desmond is seeing to it, at most a grimace of complaint.

Bill's experiment worked, in a way. The power of the Apple, replicated with human technology. Just, not in the way he intended.

It takes longer than it should, to realize something is wrong. To realize *what* is wrong.

When Desmond, eyes downcast, says, "I think there's something wrong with me," Bill thinks he's trying to avoid training. And sure enough, when he tells Desmond to get to it without any more complaining, Desmond does. But a few days later, nervously flexing his fingers and looking up at his father, something defiant in the expression, he says, as though trying to convince himself, "I'm not complaining. I'm just making a statement. I think something is wrong with me."

William raises his brow. "And what do you want done about it?" The boy needs to learn to say what he means. If he thinks he needs to see a doctor, he should say so. There won't be room in the field for imprecision.

To his surprise, tears well in Desmond's eyes, mouth twisting into a pout.

"Crying wont get you anywhere," he says. "Say what you mean."

"If I don't do whatever you say, I get hurt," Desmond blurts, all in a rush. His tears brim over and start rolling down his cheeks as he points in the center of his chest, "A hurt starts here, and it gets w-worse and worse, until it's l-l-like I c-can't breathe--"

"Stop crying," Bill snaps, and Desmond head snaps back like he's been punched. "You're not a baby, there's no need to talk like one."

The tears keep coming, Desmond brushing them away with a clenched fist, but he's not saying anything more, looking up at Bill with pleading, desperate eyes. A little whimper escapes him, and a wince as he clutches at his chest, where hed already been pointing, and it snaps together in a second, Bill going grey as a possibility blooms in his mind.

He doesn't counter his order right away. He waits a second. Two. Five. Ten. Thirty.

(He tells himself he was still putting it together. It was an outlandish proposal, and it took him time to understand. Somewhere, in the place he shovels his guilt into a compost pile from which arrogance grows, he knows that he waited on purpose. Just to see.)

Desmond falls to his knees, writhing, making noises of pain but no words, wheezing and crying, snot dripping from his nose, and something in Bill snaps, a switch flipping from fascination to horror and he reaches out for his son, pulling him into his arms, "It's alright, you're alright, breathe, breathe Desmond, you can cry, you can do whatever you need to do, just breathe."

It is the start of a whole new kind of training.

He finds the parameters of his son's new limitations. What triggers the response, exactly. If it can be avoided. How long Desmond can resist it, and what the consequences of doing so are. How to mitigate the effects of disobedience, to delay pain for when it can be managed. What happens when conflicting orders are given. If there are limits to what Desmond has to obey.

And he orders Desmond, in the strictest possible terms, to never, *ever* tell *anyone* about his weakness, lest they take advantage of it.

Because Desmond will still be an Assassin. Bill had his doubts, at first. But though it's a serious flaw, it can be managed. And in exchange, Desmond is well on his way to being everything William thought he would be. With his condition leaving no room to hold back, no room to doubt, only pushing and pushing and pushing himself to the milestones William *knows* he can reach, Desmond will be the best of them.

(and then Desmond runs away at 16 because literally *having* to follow every order your father gives you is a fucking nightmare, and spends 9 years unable to tell anyone the most important truth about himself *and* trying to avoid anyone figuring it out *and* avoiding running into any assassins because all they'd have to do to bring him home is tell him to go, and his dad won't let him get away a second time.)

I watched it… like… yeaaarrsss ago. I never read the book though XD.

Okay, so in this setup, Desmond’s ‘curse’ comes from the failed experiment to create a POE.

Not gonna lie, this sounds like it could have Evangelion-proportion of holy shit if we tip it to the other side of ‘William Miles recreating POE using Desmond’ but let’s focus on the idea that Desmond must do whatever is ordered of him.

So, in this setup, we need to get the limitation of Desmond’s curse: He feels pain when he disobeys this curse and his chest starts to hurt until he can’t breathe anymore.

What happens when he loses consciousness? Does the curse stop or will it continue to torment him until he dies?

If we go for the first ‘outcome’, this means Desmond could find a loophole by simply waiting until he faints. If it’s the latter then we can have our angst where Desmond contemplates if an order he does not like will be the final and only order that he will ever say no to.

Of course, we do have the ‘Desmond could order himself to no longer obey any orders’ to fall back into and we have an actual reason as to why Desmond never thought of ordering himself.

By the time he had left the Farm, he would have been so frightened by the power this ‘curse’ had on him that the idea that orders he gives himself might be something he had never done.

“I can do this” is a phrase normally uttered but not for Desmond. His own father had erased that phrase in his mind and all he knows is “You must do this”.

So, for him, he would never have thought of ordering himself even by accident and he would definitely try to keep to himself.

Maybe instead of being a bartender, Desmond lives a more isolated life.

He used the training he received (a training that was more painful than it should have been) and lived his life like a ghost, stealing what he needs when he knows no one would be there. A fear that had been ingrained in him when a security guard once tried to catch him by saying “stop!” and his body refused to move until the guard ordered something else.

Another possible solution is a character of your choice who is in love with Desmond ordering Desmond to “only listen to my orders!”. It’s a questionable solution but it will definitely be one that gives us the possibility of a… ‘hotter’ interpretation of his curse. XD

Although…

Soooooo…

You wanna read about an idea that’s quite screwed up and angsty?

Of course you do.

What if…

Desmond’s curse is auditory-only and Desmond realized it when Bill gave him an order via a small note? Any orders given to him that he didn’t hear didn’t count and Bill never realized it because Desmond still did as the note instructed.

But Desmond knew…

He knew that he found a loophole.

Now, his upbringing was fucked up but he never thought of harming himself. He has the self-preservation of a moth close to a flame, sure, but deliberately endangering himself had never crossed his mind.

That’s the reason why he chose to run away.

Because he wants to live.

But then he sees how dangerous it was for someone like him to be around people so he…

Drowns the sounds out.

Using every money he has, he buys the best headphones he could and just keeps listening to music.

He didn’t want to risk the possibility that lyrics could be used to command him so he only listens to music with no vocals, the louder the better.

Until he irreparably damages his ears. But he keeps going, keeps listening…

Because he didn’t realize that he was damaging his ears.

He just thought the headphones were damaged and that’s why his hearing wasn’t as good as before.

So he listened with higher and higher volumes, even tweaking his headphones so they would blast out music louder than they should be capable of.

Until…

Desmond could only hear the silence.

And that’s when he realized…

He was free from his curse.

Tears fell from his eyes and he could not hear the sobs that left his lips.

Were they happy tears?

They were supposed to be happy tears.

So why… why does his chest hurt so much?

[gaybananabread]

for the thing i saw that you were open to magnus chase potentially fierrochase with oranges and cherries? Lee alex ler magnus? You definitely dont have to just curious (for 300 fruit thing)

Fruit(s): Oranges, Cherries

I haven’t read these books in a while, but thanks for reminding me of them! I was younger when I first read these; the gay went right over my head. Also, severe LACK of tk content for this entire series! Now I can obsess over these as well (UvU). Used she/her pronouns for Alex on this one. Magnus strikes me as a shy ler, ya know? Hopefully these peeps aren’t too OOC, same with any lore or character dynamic issues (). Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Alex

Ler: Magnus

Summary: During one of the Hotel’s fights to the death, Alex and Magnus slip away for some calm. Unfortunately for the son of Frey, Alex got geared up for the fight and is feeling antsy. He offers another kind of fight, and while it’s not what Alex had in mind, it's certainly a laugh.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

It was business as usual in Hotel Valhalla; Einherjar running around, trying to pop eachother’s balloons that were attached to their chests, various weapons flying across the playing field. Folks of all ages screamed in frustration as spears, axes, and arrows went through their balloons and hit vital organs. The usual mayhem.

Two residents managed to sneak away from the craziness, locked in a room with a nice, peaceful atrium. Magnus took a deep breath, savoring the quiet peace with his partner. The blonde spared a quick glance at her face before turning back to the trees, blushing softly. “Thanks for dipping with me, Alex. Sorry if I spoiled your fun with Mallory…”

Alex rolled her eyes, pinching the hand she was holding. “You didn’t spoil anything, dork. I’d rather relax with you than kill that loudmouth again. I’ll get her later.” Her free hand moved up to her chest, absentmindedly twisting the changing pronoun pin Magnus had got her on their last trip to the mortal world. That day, it read, “she/her/hers.” She wore it every day, though a certain blonde got punched whenever he brought it up. 

The calm sounds of nature surrounded the pair, bringing a small smile to Magnus’s face. He much preferred the quiet to the chaos, though he had to admit a few of the games were kinda fun. The son of Frey could’ve stayed there all day.

Alex, on the other hand, was really starting to get bored. She was all for supporting her boyfriend, but Gods, they’d been just sitting there for almost twenty minutes. She had no problems ditching the fight for Magnus, but it left her fidgety. The greenette wanted to move, the urge to do something like an itch on her hands she just couldn’t scratch. She tapped a quick, repeating pattern on her arm, trying to distract herself. 

It took the blonde all but four seconds to see how antsy Alex was getting; he nudged his partner’s arm, sighing. “You don’t have to stay here if you’re bored. I’m fine by myself.” The look on his face was a smile, though his eyes gave away how desperate he was for Alex to stay.

That got an eye-roll; how poor was that boy’s self-esteem? Alex wrapped an arm around Magnus’s shoulders, squeezing him a bit harder than necessary into a hug. “Maggie, listen; you’re good. I know you don’t like super loud ‘n crazy stuff, and they’re literally killing eachother while popping loud ass balloons. It’s actually refreshing that you have the sanity to not wanna do it.”

Magnus’s guilt faded, the desperation melting into adoration; what did he do to deserve someone as awesome as Alex? Well, besides saving a bunch of stuff and almost dying for it, but he didn’t count that… “Thank you, Alex. Seriously.” Still, something nagged at him to make it up to his partner. He really didn’t feel like actually fighting, though a silly idea popped into his head. One his partner might enjoy even more than revenge on Mallory.

“Hey, I know it’s not Last Einherjar Standing, but do you wanna do our own thing in here? Like…a fight, but not killing eachother?” A small blush decorated Magnus’s cheeks, making his partner hum. It sounded better than just sitting there, though she could tell there was more to it than that. “Okay…what’s the catch?”

The fact that he only got redder was very telling for the child of Loki. Another silly Magnus idea…but anything was better than nothing. “Well, we could, ya know…tickle eachother instead.” He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth; why would Alex ever wanna do that? He tried playing it off, hoping he wouldn’t get teased for it. “It’s, uh, nevermind dumb idea-”

“Eh, sure. I’m bored enough.”

Magnus was a bit stunned, to be honest. Alex actually wanted to have a tickle fight? He was shocked for a good few seconds before snapping back to reality. “Oh…alright then. You wanna count it down, or…?”

Alex rolled her eyes, seeing the shock on her boyfriend’s face. Normally, she would’ve teased the Helheim out of Magnus for even mentioning something like that. That day, though, she was feeling kind; kind enough to let Magnus have his fun. While he’d never directly expressed it, it was clear to literally everyone close to him that Magnus liked that kind of thing. Still had appearances to keep up, though. “We can count it if you want. I don't really care.”

A vibrant red hue decorated Magnus’s cheeks, a rare bout of confidence overtaking his thoughts. Things were gonna be fun; if he could win without combusting, that is. 

“Okay…uh, three, two, one…go!”

Not in a thousand years would Alex have expected Magnus to pounce like he did. I mean, she was already planning on letting the blonde win, but damn. Boy was excited. 

Magnus was quick to wrestle Alex down, his mind racing with all the possible ways the greenette could wreck him. Animal claws, bird feathers, multiple appendages… Best to get her before any of those played out. Soon, the shapeshifter’s arms were above her head, wide and slightly surprised eyes staring up at Magnus.

“Dahamn, Beantown! Didn’t think you had it in you~” Alex, ever the tease, smirked up at his boy. While there was no avoiding what was about to come, she could at least see the little flash of red across her boyfriend’s cheeks.

Predictably, the blonde blushed, his confidence faltering for a second. “Quiet…” Okay, Alex was so getting it after that. However, the doubtful thoughts wormed their way back into his head. Gods, he hated his head sometimes… “Hey, are you sure this is okay? Like, you’re fine with me ti-…uh, doing this?”

Alex rolled her eyes, a small groan escaping her. Magnus said “fight,” not feel guilty about everything; was he seriously gonna make her ask? The anticipation was honestly getting to Alex, her heterochromic eyes shining with a nervous giddiness that she would never admit. “Yes, my Gods, just do it already!”

Magnus huffed, feeling himself get a bit red at the annoyed ask. Still, he kept Alex’s arms above her head with one head, the other experimentally kneading at her hip. 

She bit her lip, squirming in his hold as she tried not to giggle. If she really wanted to, Alex could’ve just shifted into a ferret and slipped away; she could’ve won the whole fight if she wanted to. Magnus seemed down though, and while she’d never admit it, she loved the wondrous little gleam he got in his eyes when he was happy. So, for him, she endured. It wasn’t that horrible…

“Aww, c’mon Alex. You were begging me to get started, and now you’re not even gonna giggle?” He dug in, drilling his thumb into Alex’s hip. Hello, confidence! Alex’s strained focus broke, surprisingly bubbly giggles spilling past her lips. Even more of a shock: her cheeks grew red, almost matching her boyfriend’s. “Sh-shuhuhut ihit!”

Magnus was stunned for a second, his mind taking a moment to process the sound of her giggles. So cute…she’d kill him for saying it, but it was true. He had to hear more; the hand traveled upwards, curiously clawing at her ribs. He wasn’t disappointed.

“MAHAHAGNUS! F-FUHUHACK!” Alex arched her back, not expecting that spot to be so bad. She hadn’t really been tickled as a kid, and while that stuff was more common with her friends, most of them were too anxious to really try it. That was…really the first time someone had actually gotten her. She didn’t…hate it? It was a lot.

The blonde chuckled, his eyes sparkling as she laughed. Okay, new favorite sound… Alex had never sounded so carefree. “Wow Alex, such dirty language. It’s just a few little tickles; no need to get so worked up!” Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, Magnus moved his spidering fingers to her stomach.

“Y-yohohohou’re the wohohorst!” It was hard to take that “insult” seriously with all the giggling she was doing. That side of Alex was one Magnus didn’t see often, but he loved when it would show. “Am I? I mean, you did literally ask for it. I’m kinda an awesome boyfriend for giving you what you want, no?” 

Alex groaned through her giggles, mentally rolling her eyes. “Noho, you dohohork!” She wiggled in his hold, but made no real effort to get away. It still lit up her nerves, but the gentle tickling on her belly was actually kinda nice… Well, until Magnus started talking. “Wasn’t this supposed to be a tickle fight? Kinda seems like you gave up, love~”

Her cheeks went red, an indignant grunt flowing with the adorable giggles. “I- thahat’s nohot-... Ihi hahahate youhu…” Alex tried to hide her face in her shoulder, her arms still above her head. 

Magnus gasped, feigning a hurt pout. “You hate me? Wow Alex, I thought we had something…” He sighed, shooting his hand back to claw at her ribs. “Guess I can’t feel bad for doing this anymore.” 

“NAHAHAHO! MAHAGNUHUS, YOUHU AHASS!” She squealed, her face turning an even deeper, lovely and vibrant shade of red. Magnus couldn’t help but coo. “That’s actually adorable, Alex. I mean, I knew you were a shapeshifter, but I never knew your cherry impression was so good!”

“SHUHUHUT UHUHP!” Alex twisted and turned in Magnus’s grip, her face only getting hotter. She really wasn’t used to tickling, and while it was kinda fun, she was nearing her limit. While it hurt her pride to do it, she tapped out. “ENOUHUHUGH!”

The son of Frey stopped almost instantly, his arms wrapping around Alex to pull her into a hug. He was pushing it with all the affection, but he was feeling brave. “Sorry, that was kinda mean. You good? Did I go too far?”

Alex buried her face in his shoulder, giggling off the ghost tickles. “Thahat was- Gods, Mahaggie. Yeah, Ihi’m good…” She took a few deep breaths, her slightly dazed smile becoming something much more mischievous. “Uh…Alex?”

Suddenly, his partner shrank, a small ferret in her place. The fuzzy noodle zipped under his shirt, climbing up his torso and around to his back. He squeaked, squirming as her fur brushed against his poor skin. Finally, she made it to his neck, hopping out and shifting back. 

Alex wasted zero time with her plan. In seconds, Magnus was on his back, his arms stuck firmly above his head. She smirked down at him, a playful smirk on her face. “Here comes the fight, Beantown. Hope you’re ready~”

Magnus gulped, looking up at his partner with wide eyes and a wobbly smile. “Oh Gods…” The rest of the afternoon was filled with laughter, the chaos of the morning’s strange murder-game forgotten. While it wasn’t exactly what either of them had planned for the day, it was definitely the most fun they’d had in a while. Totally worth it…

[nanjokei]

i think the spread of character ai usage (and ai art generation usage also) is definitely an issue with people wanting instant gratification which actual rp usually is just not sustainably built for unless you're doing chat rp, even then your friends aren't awake 24/7 waiting at beck and call to entertain you. it's not literally entitlement, but it 100% stems from entitlement to be entertained constantly and passively instead of actually going out and finding something to do.

god this sounds like such boomer shit but the creation of endless scrolling like on tiktok with specifically tailored algorithms has made people so PASSIVE. ai can never come close to human creators but if people, especially the younger generation, are getting too cozy with choosing it over seeking out other human beings (whether it be indirectly via consuming fanmade work or directly via actual collaborative stuff like online roleplay), then how different is it from the ai "winning"? i don't think any of the excuses are valid. it's a subpar product in every way. it's almost never im character, it breaks if you propose anything too left field, and it's ultimately empty wish fulfilment and i have no idea how anyone past the age of 16 AT BEST gets any gratification from it. is it just the spread of a lack of reading comprehension? OPEN THE SCHOOLS!!

i do think it's an issue of people not being comfortable with boredom, always needing instant gratification, not wanting to sit down and hone a craft, or give the people who hone a craft themselves the time of day because they can't crank out """content""" for you 24/7. in a way, i'm thinking right now, when i'm bored i just channel surf on tv even if i don't do it as much anymore. but most people don't have tv anymore (personally we pirate iptv so LOL). i don't blame it on that necessarily, but i think with the rise of streaming, you just sit there on a media library staring at a bunch of thumbnails and posters, having to make a decision on how to invest your time. in this case, i get why people are so passive. tiktok is easier, character ai is easier. because i never ended up watching anything whenever i opened netflix (when we had it years ago). one could argue that watching tv is passive, but there's still a choice. you check the tv guide or google it and you know a certain show is on tv a certain channel at a certain time so you keep that in mind. what do you do in the meanwhile? i remember when that was an actual routine for me. i'd be slacking and not doing my homework, so maybe i'd draw a bit, maybe i play on my ds for a while, maybe i go make myself a snack or bake some pastries if i have all day, maybe i continue a book or even surf the web a bit.

the instinct of "aight, im gonna do something else on my own while i wait" is kind of dying. yes i'm on my phone! the difference is my use case. these days i'm not on social media aside from here so i don't use it as much aside from talking to friends on messaging clients and playing games (rarely tho). i say this as someone who stares at the ceiling not doing anything for a good bit each day, but at least i feel like i still have retained some ability to sometimes go, ok time to learn about a new hobby! i don't have to even pick it up. just entertaining it is gratifying on its own. i'm not a writer, but sometimes i'll write a little bit for fun then go "yeah i get why i don't jive with this". lately, i've been interested in competitive pokemon (with not much interest before) because i've been replaying platinum. i research a bit, watch videos, i even got a little brave and tested some sample teams on showdown. it was a fun time killer! i might keep doing it. i might even do it later today. i started reading pokespe too to scratch the pokemon itch too. and it's not like i don't suffer from crazy hard executive dysfunction but hey, this is a product of my effort. lately i've been thinking i wanna pick a character in guilty gear and learn at least one combo! trying new things is fun!!!

i'm sure this post sounds self important, self impressed, self absorbed (c-c-c-combo breaker) and boomer ish as fuck but honestly i don't care anymore. if someone who struggles with simple tasks on the daily like me can find shit to do that isn't just instantly caving to endless scrolling and resorting to chatting up an AI then i'm sure most people can too. it is so much more gratifying actively seeking out fun than to be passive about it.