#my algorithms are already fucked thank you

[onboardsorasora]

Just saw some Marines outside doing something with new recruits and that of course lead me to think about an army bootcamp au

Now disclaimer. Don't come for me. IDK any of these titles. I stopped watching NCIS years ago. Do not take this seriously. This is crack treated like crack. But anyway

Daniel is like a higher ranking officer. He's in charge maybe of intake and like the first few weeks of boot camp. Max is a new recruit. Anyway so they fuck around and find out and have a situationship while boot camp progresses and Daniel is good at not giving Max preferencial treatment or picking on him too much.

Anyway. Max gets in and they're assigned to go to [insert base here] and through the homoeroticism of the military, they fall in love.

We're also suspending our disbelief cause they're openly gay/bi with no repercussions because this is my perfect world.

So they live together because it's economical. And Max is a pilot and Daniel works with the special weapons so they can like get assigned together. Because Christian loves them and he's like a lieutenant with the ear of the secretary general or something.

So some shit hits the fan in [warzone] and they're assigned to go there. Anyway this is waayyy more thought than intended to put into this wayward idea. So war things happen and maybe Max's plane goes down and he ejected into enemy territory and Daniel is like ‘i have to go get him’ and everyone is like ‘you're not built like that tho. You have like seen combat like this.’

And Daniel's like ‘for love, I'm built different.’ and then maybe like Valtteri and Fernando are like ‘kool I'm down let's blow shit up’

And they rescue Max and they're all badasses as they get back to base. And they live happily ever after

[creep3r-chan]

me on Pixilart (which doesn't have a fyp and only relies on who you follow and what's newest with who you follow 💔💔) trying to get my art noticed 💔💔💔

Why artists and writers reblog their work multiple times:

They posted it late at night and want people to see it in the daytime

They want others to reblog it

They want more attention for it

THEY WANT OTHERS TO REBLOG IT

They have followers in different timezones and want everyone to get a chance to see it

THEY WANT OTHERS TO REBLOG IT

IF THEY REBLOG IT MULTIPLE TIMES, THEY’RE DOING IT BECAUSE THEY WANT ATTENTION FOR IT AND THEY’RE LIKELY NOT GETTING ENOUGH, SO THEY KEEP REBLOGGING IT IN THE HOPES THEY’LL GET SOME

BE A COOL BRO AND REBLOG

THEY’LL LOVE YOU FOREVER

[atrwriting]

future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon

this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!

as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda

informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned

anyways… here is future problems:

he never wanted to get married.

he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.

despised them.

however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.

and it would be you.

he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.

it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.

he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.

however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.

at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.

but then… oh, then…

then he saw your smile.

oh, your smile.

your fucking smile.

the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.

no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.

no one.

when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.

and it was… until he was sick.

it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.

however, he did not expect one problem.

and that would be you.

he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.

he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?

so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.

just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.

he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —

but he couldn’t finish the thought.

because you walked in.

smelling like fucking lilacs.

lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.

however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.

he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.

“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”

“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”

you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.

he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.

“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”

you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”

you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”

you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.

he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.

however, he didn’t understand why.

he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?

he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.

and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.

however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?

his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.

he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.

he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!

he had to know. he had to.

to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.

as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.

"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."

you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"

"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."

you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?

"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."

why. why. why.

he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.

he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.

the act would drop. it always did.

the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.

and he fucking hated himself for it.

he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.

but you had kept reading for him.

he grew angry.

when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."

your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.

"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."

you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.

"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.

you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."

she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.

the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.

that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.

that would have to be righted immediately.

he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.

they always slip.

the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.

he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.

how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.

you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.

"good evening," you greeted.

"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.

"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.

he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"

your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."

you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."

you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."

he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"

your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”

your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?

so he went with what was natural: manipulation.

“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”

you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.

“what troubles you?” he asked.

your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.

“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”

“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”

there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.

“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”

your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.

“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”

“please,” he answered and nodded.

you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.

this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.

he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.

you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.

you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.

and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.

for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,

to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.

you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.

after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.

how had he not expected this?

his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.

he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.

he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.

he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.

good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.

he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.

so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.

he hated himself for the lilacs.

he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.

however, it didn’t.

all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.

she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.

he knew what he had to do.

he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.

he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.

he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.

you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”

“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.

“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”

you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“how do you like his new book?” you asked.

coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”

you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”

he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.

“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”

you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”

“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”

you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”

“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.

you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”

now was the time.

“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”

you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.

damn, he thought. didnt bite.

“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.

you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”

he nodded.

“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”

“i don’t understand.”

you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”

your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.

“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.

there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”

your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.

“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.

“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”

“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.

“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”

it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.

“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”

“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”

you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed

you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.

there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?

he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.

once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.

when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”

“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”

he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.

oh.

you invited him in to… to…

that he had not expected.

before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.

once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.

you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.

what was he to do?

he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.

the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.

would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?

you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.

he reasoned a reward was in order.

he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.

the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.

then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.

those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.

however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.

he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.

“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”

coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.

coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.

“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”

your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”

his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.

“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“

he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.

he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.

“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.

your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”

“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.

you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.

“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“

coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”

he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.

just this once, you both thought. just this once.

his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.

with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.

corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.

he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”

he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.

he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”

you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”

his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”

“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.

his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”

“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”

bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.

it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.

“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”

he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”

you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.

holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.

he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.

you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.

a low hum filled his chest.

you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.

that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.

maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.

you had to do something.

"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."

he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.

you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.

"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."

your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.

"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.

"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."

you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."

he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"

you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."

he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"

"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."

"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.

you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.

“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”

there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.

he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.

in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.

“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.

your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.

with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.

shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.

his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.

“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”

you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

he cocked an eyebrow.

“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”

corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…

oh… you were done for.

one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.

the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.

“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”

his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.

“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”

“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”

“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”

“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.

the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —

“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”

tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —

“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“

there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.

“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”

“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”

you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.

it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.

tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.

his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.

“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.

“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”

you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“

“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.

you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“

he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.

“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”

you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”

he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”

you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."

you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”

“i promise,” you returned.

you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.

everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.

"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"

"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"

you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.

you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.

he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.

you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.

"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."

again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...

that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.

"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."

his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."

your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."

corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.

"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."

"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."

his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"

"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"

corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.

when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.

he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.

"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."

corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"

you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."

he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."

---

love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u

-L xooxoxooxox

[sidemari]

• "Themed Phrases" - 18+ Scenarios Collection •

Important note: I had to repost this work because Tumblr's algorithm censored my previous post. Forgive me for any mistakes, English isn't my native language.

About the game: Both characters' names and themed phrases are in alphabetical/numerical order to facilitate your life as you read this work. Thanks for spending some time on here <3

Pairings: Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Venti, Xiao and Zhongli [separately] x Fem!Reader

Word count: 7,5K+ words.

Childe's Scenario

28. “Is this too fast for you?”

36. “You don’t need to be shy, my love”

42. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle”

TW: Alcohol consumption. 

After some glasses of wine, kisses were not enough: both of you needed something more efficient than that to bring relief to your desires. 

"I'm feeling... I'm feeling weird" You mumbled against his neck, breathing in his cologne. 

"I know you're. It's easy to notice you're excited" His breath hit your ear. "Or should I admit you're horny?" 

"Ajax... Stop with your teasing for once" 

You felt a kiss against your collarbone that made you shiver, despite the warmth the candles in the bedroom provided. 

"It was your idea to drink, in the first place. You know I get... Like this" You muttered. 

“You don’t need to be shy, my love” He pulled you to a quick kiss, right before smiling devilishly. "You know I'm around to help you" 

And then in the middle of confusion, the reason you both were commemorating. 

"It's our anniversary..." You unbuttoned the first button of your coat. "I may have something else for you" 

His gaze became piercing, almost cornering you when you showed him your lingerie. 

"Lacy?" He grinned. "You're such a sly girl, uh?" If the fabric of your coat wasn't thick enough, it would have torn. 

Your breasts were now fully exposed, as they looked perfectly sculpted in the cup of the bra you were using. 

You finished undressing and that was when he guided you to your bed.

Your heart was racing inside your chest when he took off his gloves.

"Can I?" He asked for consent while his fingers caressed your hips. 

"Yes... Yes, please" 

His tongue felt warm. 

Your body shivered under his ministrations. 

Sucking your clit right before swirling his tongue around your bundle of nerves was enough to have you whimpering. 

"Ajax- F-Fuck..." Your hands pulled his ginger hair weakly, pressing his face against your intimacy even more, to the point that the words he tried to say were all muffled, because wet and slurping sounds fulfilled the bedroom as Tartaglia prepared you to receive him. 

“Is this too fast for you?” He muttered when he broke the contact to breathe.

“Please… Fuck me already” The fatui only smiled, quickly taking off his clothes in order to get freedom to move properly. 

“Lift your hips for me and put your legs on my shoulders” 

“Ajax…?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle” 

His thrusts were steady and initially slow. 

"It's a shame you're now only wearing your bra. That set was pretty hot on you" 

A fast pace was settled and you  could barely move much or handle all the stimulation. 

"You know how I feel when you're all obedient and devoted to me, right, darling?" A hard thrust of his almost reached your cervix, making you whimper and squirm. 

"A-Ajax..." 

"Shush… We're both almost there" 

Your bodies reached the limit some minutes after that, having you both completely surrendered to each other during the rest of the night.

Diluc's Scenario 

1. "I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to" 

2. "Friends don’t do this kind of shit" 

36. “You don’t need to be shy, my love”

43. “I’m going to fucking wreck you” 

49. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

52. “I'm not done with you yet”  

The crystal glass containing an untouched wine was now a fidget on Diluc's hand. 

"Tsk, who am I fooling? I despise this shit" 

He sounded bitter, almost raged when he abandoned the glass above the table, getting up from his seat at the Winery Salon to walk towards you. 

"I'm sorry I have to talk to her right now, Kaeya. Perhaps you can talk finishing your conversation after I'm done with her" 

"Diluc...?" You asked confused, as he guided you upstairs with a tight grip on your wrist. "I'm not... I'm not done talking to him"

"Save it" The man hissed. "I'm losing my patience with you, and you're aware of that" 

"Diluc... What have I even done this time?"

"You're mine, (Name). You're mine and mine alone. Still, you can't bring yourself to stop seeking attention from other guys, uh? Especially from Kaeya, that..." He didn't finish his line, he simply locked the door behind him, sighing in frustration. 

"This is... This is stupid" You said quietly. "You were the one who was disinterested in me. You said it would only bring confusion to the both of us. I guess you were right, afterall"

"What are you even talking about?" 

"Don't you remember? You were the one who said 'Friends don’t do this kind of shit', Diluc" You said firmly. "Our relationship doesn't mean much more than being friends with benefits for you, right?" 

"You know I didn't mean that phrase in that way, (Name). You're everything I could ever ask for... That's why my blood was boiling with jealousy of seeing you so close to Kaeya" 

"So it was all about jealousy...?" 

"Is it so astonishing having me confessing something like that?" He took off his gloves slowly, guiding you to his bed with his steps. 

"Diluc... He's probably still downstairs..." 

"It's even better if he listens to anything" A soft chuckle left his lips. "Now strip of those clothes, because I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to"

The only thing you remembered the next morning was how that single time felt so special and different from any other nights you shared together. 

"That's my good girl... Look how wet you're with so little stimulation... Perhaps you were close to Kaeya only to make me riled up, uh?" 

You didn't answer him, you only squirmed when his slim fingers brushed against the most sensitive spot of yours. 

"You wanted to get me jealous so I could fuck you hard enough to remember you that you're mine alone?" He chuckled softly. "And I must admit it worked pretty well, dear" 

Diluc said before his tongue started exploring your sex, with his fingers still there. He had the habit of collecting some of your essence with the tips of his tongue before swallowing all of it. 

"I can never understand why do you taste so freaking addictive on my tongue" 

Your hands shakily pulled his red hair softly, not making him feel pain, but pleasure as he savored your heat. 

"Diluc..." His name was nothing more than a mewl that left your lips. 

"Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

He was right, were you needy for him. 

But you didn't answer him. 

"Say you want me to fuck you senselessly against this mattress, my lovely" 

Still no answer, only moans leaving your lips as his fingers kept stimulating you. 

"My lovely?" His movements stopped abruptly. "Answer me" Diluc slapped your thigh, gaining a louder moan from you. 

"Fuck me, please... I need you filling me up completely... I need to feel you inside of me right now..." You obeyed him. 

"I’m going to fucking wreck you” 

And so he did. 

It was the first time Diluc was rough with you during sex. 

He was fucking you raw on that bed. 

"You know what you signed up for, (Name)" He said between the hard thrusts of his hips. "You know how much I despise feeling jealousy. It's only fair that I'm the responsible one to teach my little girl a lesson, uh?" 

You simply nodded continually, not being able to say much when your body was being pressed against the silk bed sheets while Diluc ravished your body. 

The belly bulge his length formed every time he bottomed out inside you made him arrogant about it.

"Do you see how much our bodies match? You were hand-made just for me to fuck you this good, baby..." His hand gripped your chin, lifting it up for you to watch him closely.

"You're perfect... The most precious thing I have" His hips thrusted against yours roughly enough to leave you sore the next day. 

"Diluc..." Fuck, he knew you so well that he could almost read your mind thinking about how close you were. 

"Cum with me, doll... Let me feel you squeezing me as I fill you up with my seed" 

Your nails sank against the skin of his back while your legs kept him inside of you even after your high. 

"Look at you... All marked up as mine, uh?" 

Sleepiness followed your orgasm, but you could feel Diluc getting ready once again inside your heat. 

"D-Diluc...?" You asked quietly, almost shy about what would happen next. 

"You don’t need to be shy, my love” That only made your cheeks glow red even more. “Even if you’re worn out, I'm not done with you yet”

Kaeya's Scenarios

Scenario 1

5. “I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-” 

9. “Bite me”

15. “Now take a deep breath…”

17. “Don't pull out”

28. “Is this too fast for you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive here”

30. “That feels good, baby?” 

31. “You want me to claim you, don’t you?” 

32. “Make love to me, please”

49. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

50. “I’ve been thinking about you all day” 

54. “I just want to make you feel good”

55. “I may or may not have left some…. Marks” 

TW: Omegaverse, heats, creampie. 

"This feels... Uncomfortable" You mumbled, changing your position for the hundredth time that minute. 

Sweat covered your warm skin but that didn't make you feel better. 

It was only getting worse. You'd reach a point that ignoring your urges and instincts would only lead you to your own destruction. 

"Kaeya... Please, come home" You whimpered, pressing your legs together so you could try to release some tension. 

But things started getting blurry.

And the sounds seemed so stuffy. 

You had fainted. 

And your boyfriend found you weak, sweating coldly as your body kept trembling despite how warm your skin felt. 

"I'm here... Hey, I'm home" 

"Kaeya...?" You blinked torturously slow. 

"Yes, it's me. I'm here to help you" 

"What's happening...? But your thoughts were foggy, since you were way too confused to think straight.

“You’re burning up with fever” 

“My meds… I’m irresponsible”

“It’s something normal, (Name). It’s not like any of us can control our cycles” 

“I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-” You got up from the bed so quickly that your sight became black and your knees faltered. 

“How many times do I need to say to you that you don’t need to suppress anything from your omega nature?” 

“Kaeya… This is a burden. I’m a burden…” Gelid and strong hands pressed your body against his own, trying to help you come to your senses. 

His lips pressed a kiss against your damp neck, gaining a whimper from you. 

“K-Kaeya…?” 

“I just want to make you feel good” Another kiss met your skin. “Allow me to take care of you, my love” 

Carefully your clothes were taken off by his skilled hands right before he helped you to lay down on the bed. 

The silk bed sheets seemed cold the first seconds you laid on them, but they were less cold than Kaeya’s fingertips that traveled against your arm, then hips and finally thighs. 

Shivering, you suppressed another whimper when he sucked on your collarbone, marking you as his once again. 

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive here” Kaeya jokes, kissing the bond mark you received long months ago, during your first cycle together. 

“Kaeya… I’ve been thinking about you all day” 

“I know, love. I know. And I couldn’t take my thoughts out of you”

His lips touched yours, asking for the permission you gave him instantly. 

Your tongues explored each other slowly, while little wet sounds were made and propagated through the bedroom. 

The kiss finished when you both needed to breathe properly.

“Open your legs for me, omega” As if you were enchanted, you obeyed him without thinking twice. 

Your intimacy was fully exposed to the one who claimed you. 

His fingers eagerly collected some of your essence just so he could taste you on his tongue. 

A smile formed on his lips when the captain saw your expression. 

“You want me to claim you, don’t you?” 

“Kaeya… I need you… Myself was never enough for me”

“Shush… I’m here now, remember? Just trust me”

“Please… Please!” 

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

“Just…” You whined when his finger stimulated your clit. “Just make love to me, please”

The man pulled your body towards his, slowly penetrating your sex. 

Some tears of reflex formed on the corner of your eyes just to be kissed away by your partner. 

“Good girl…” You felt a thrust. “Now take a deep breath…”

A steady pace was settled as Kaeya made sure to mark every inch of flesh his eye could admire. 

His hips now collapsed against yours creating lewd sounds that anyone could hear if they were close enough.

Your hands went from the bed sheets to his back, scratching him slightly in pleasure while you struggled to take him properly inside you. 

“Is this too fast for you?” He asked concerned, afraid that your weakness would take the best of you.  

“No… This feels… This feels s-so good” You gasped between his thrusts. 

“Ah…” His voice carried a provocative tonality. “So that feels good, baby?” 

You didn’t answer him.

It was not like you needed to for him to know you were close to your limit. 

One of your hands went to his head, caressing his navy blue locks, guiding him towards your neck. 

“Bite me” And so he did. Alberich’s sharp teeth sank into the healed bonding mark on your neck, bruising it once again and sealing your love one more time. 

“Shush… You’ll be fine. It’s only some blood” 

Some more seconds and you came undone under his body.

The soft squeezes against his shaft made him melt and get closer to his own orgasm. You were able to feel him twitching inside your walls and with that you enlaced your legs around his waist, preventing him from leaving your sex. 

“Don't pull out” You whispered. “I wanna feel it. Fill me up to the brim, please”

• Time break •

His embrace was warm, despite the coldness from the room. 

“Thank you” You whispered when he hid his face against the crook of your neck.

“We’re bonded, right? We should take care of each other all the time” 

You smiled, caressing his hair. 

“I’m quite sore” 

“You must be… It took many rounds to control your dark necessities” 

“K-Kaeya!”

“It’s not like I’m complaining though. Work was tough and at least you helped me to unwind” He kissed your neck once again. “Also… I may or may not have left some…. Marks”

Scenario 2 

4. "I don’t care if they watch"

25. “Don’t cum without my permission”

35. “Can we cuddle afterwards?” 

44. “Not so cocky now, are you?” 

52. “I'm not done with you yet”

“When will you make me your priority?” You complained with tears in the corner of your eyes, but his attention didn’t leave the paperwork in front of him. “You’re always so careless… Don’t you ever think about what your own partner will think about your attitudes?” 

“Enough” The captain got up from his seat, coming towards your direction. 

You thought he would stop in front of you, but his steps didn’t falter one single time, until your body was fully pressed against the wall of his office. 

“K-Kaeya…?” His hand squeezed your wrist, without the intention of hurting you, but only signaling that if you went a bit too far you’d regret it. 

“Not so cocky now, are you?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and anger. 

“If you’ll only argue with me once again, I’ll leave” 

“My, my. Perhaps I don’t have any other choice. besides claiming you in this exact office, right, my doll?” 

“It’s not like this will solve our problems” 

“But we can forget about them during some minutes and that’s enough for me” 

“Kaeya… We are at the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. This is the last thing we should be-” A kiss was stolen from you. 

Dominantly, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, exploring your own tongue with curiosity. 

One of his hands was still holding your wrist tightly while the other held your waist strongly, pressing your body against the door frame. 

“Take off your clothes, quickly” He whispered in your ear after he broke the kiss. 

Shivering with his voice tone, you only had the strength to obey his words. 

The woodend table felt cold when your naked body laid down. 

“What if… What if someone needs to talk to you? What if someone sees us?”

"I don’t care if they watch" His gelid hands opened your legs wide apart, just to see how wet and ready you were for him. “Perhaps you get turned on by arguing?” His finger brushed your clit vigorously, making you squirm. 

“Mhmm… It’s s-so sensitive” 

“Look how prepared you are, dollface. I could start pounding you right now and you’d have no trouble with it, right?” His finger scooped some of your slick, bringing it to your lips. “Taste yourself” 

You sucked on his finger, only to grow addicted to your own taste. 

“See? You’re addictive” The captain unbuckled his belt, hitting your right thigh with the accessory. “I'm not done with you yet”  

Standing still and without trousers, he finally penetrated you, already building up a fast pace within seconds. 

“F-Fuck… This feels so freaking good” You whimpered, forgetting about any topic that you were arguing about. “Kaeya… Kaeya!” His tip brushed against your g-spot continually, making you melt with the stimuli. 

“Keep moaning my name like that. It’s pleasant” His hand scratched your hip hard enough to leave a little mark. 

“I’m… I’m so c-close” 

“Don’t cum without my permission”

“It’s too m-much…” 

“Only some more thrusts and you can come with me. Don’t you dare cumming before I say so. Or else, you’ll be in trouble and I won’t give a fuck we’re at work” 

Your answer was a small whimper and a nod from your head. 

Your body jerked up with his movements while his hips didn’t stop collapsing against yours for once. No thrust failed.  

“Kaeya…?” You asked for permission when your legs started trembling around his waist. “Please?” 

“Deliver it to me, my darling” 

And once again your body obeyed him without questioning anything. 

Your fiancé emptied himself inside you, marking you as his in another way before pulling out of you. 

Your body was way too sticky to put your clothes back on properly when a knock was heard against the door.

“Fuck” You whispered, finishing dressing up. 

“We will finish this later in our bedroom” 

“Can we at least cuddle afterwards?” 

“I’ll take care of you all night long, don’t worry”

Kazuha's Scenario  

28. “Is this too fast for you?” 

41. “Just let your body take control” 

51. “Your scent drives me crazy”

52. “I'm not done with you yet” 

54. “I just want to make you feel good” 

The night breeze carried something sweet to his senses but he knew that such delicate scent he felt wasn't from the small tree that was part of his room's landscape. 

"I know you're here" Kazuha said calmly. 

"I missed you" It was your time to say something after not being able to see him for months straight. "And I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier than you expected-"

His lips shut your mouth with a delicate kiss. 

"I understand that being an adeptus is draining, love. You have nothing to apologize for... But if we finally met today, I shall admit I just want to make you feel good" 

He was perfect. 

He was everything you could ever ask for. 

You've never been with a man who could make you feel so human, so safe and so loved whenever you were together. 

After his whisper, you could feel his hands on your shoulders, his fingers trailing down your neck, as his thumbs stroked your breasts above the fabric of your shirt. 

His hand hoovered along your body, feeling your curves and the softness of your skin. 

"Your scent drives me crazy" Your breathing strained with his tone and you shivered.  Despite the warmth of the room, something about the words and the way he said them into your ears made you weak for him. 

"Kazuha..." You whimpered when he finally guided you to his bed. 

"Is there something wrong?" 

"It's just... I'm not that good when it comes to receiving attention like this" 

"Is this too fast for you?" Worry was all over his face. Forcing you to do something was never on his plans. 

"No... I need you now, Kazuha" 

• Time break • 

He reached your soaked panties, pulling them down so he could fuck you with his skilled fingers. 

You moaned soundly with your back arched, eyes closed tightly as you simply enjoyed that warm night by his side. 

You haven't felt like this in so long.

You needed this feeling. 

You needed his love.  

And you needed him. 

Your hips buck as you try to get away, but his grip is tight while his tongue savors all you had to offer him. 

"Kazuha..." His name was nothing more than a whisper that left your agape lips. 

It was hard for you to let your guard down like that, even if you trusted him enough to do such. Almost as the man above you could read your mind, he reassured you: 

"Just let your body take control” He was growing impatient, just wanting nothing more than to be inside of you. 

"I'll make you mine once again" 

When he slides inside you, filling you up to the brim, you cry out with a mixture of overstimulation and euphoria. 

He makes your love deeper every time he thrusts into your sensitive core over and  over again with his body pressed against yours, his face oh so close to you that he had to steal some kisses from you. 

Kisses that were hot and hungry. 

His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip before taking it between his teeth. 

Kazuha teases your mouth with his tongue, flicking it this way and that until you can no longer stand it, so you open your mouth, letting his tongue explore further. 

Your whole body tingles from head to toe.

Everything else disappeared from your mind except the feeling of his body on yours, his hands caressing your body, his kisses and the way he ravished you in the most sinful way he could. 

Your body would remember him after that. 

Your body would show you belonged to him and him alone. 

His cock twitched inside you when he was finally close, just when your orgasm ripped through your body. 

Kazuha's voice sounded raspy against your ears after he marked your insides with his seed, which easily found its way towards your womb due the constant contractions of your tight walls. 

"I'm not done with you yet”

Scaramouche's Scenario 

5. "Shit, I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-"* Edited to: "I'm still having heats even if I dope on medication…"

9. "Bite me" 

17. “Don't pull out”

18.“Why do you smell so good?”

25. “Don’t cum without my permission” 

32. “Make love to me, please”

35. “Can we cuddle afterwards?”* Edited to: “Can I cuddle you?” 

TW: Omegaverse things

Finishing reporting your last mission to the Tsaritsa was incredibly hard when all you wanted to do was laying in bed and having someone to take care of your stupid heat.

"I consider your mission a success. Now leave." The archon said with contempt before you left the gelid room swiftly. 

Your vision was blurred and your legs were weak enough to make the walking to your room difficult. 

"It stings..." You gasped, trying to breathe properly since the oxygen felt heavy and inefficient. "I'm still having heats even if I dope on medication…" You were so lost in thought - talking to yourself - that  you didn't notice there was someone passing by the corridor. 

The collision was strong enough to bother your sensitive body. 

"Can't you see I'm trying to pass this freaking corridor?" The harbinger said harshly before he knew it was you that had bumped against him. "Oh, (Name)... It's you… My bad" 

"Scaramouche... Forgive me... I just- I just need to get to my bedroom" You runned through the last few meters of the corridor just so you could enter your place and lock the door. 

"Fuck... This feels so overwhelming" You whimpered, with your body glued on the door frame. 

Having the wooden door behind you being knocked on so harshly made your body shake a little. 

"Open the door, please" 

"Scaramouche… I'm fine, you can leave" 

"I can smell your scent from miles away, omega. If there's something you need right now it's someone to take care of your heat, right?" 

'How can him be so accurate?'  You thought to yourself. 

"Come on, we've done this before-" 

Before he could finish his line, you opened the door slowly, blushing while you watched a grin form on his lips. 

Pulling your body against his, the harbinger whispered in your ear, close enough to make your body shiver. 

"I know exactly what you need, my love" The door behind you both was closed abruptly. 

"So… Can I finally help you?" His fingers gripped your chin weakly, only applying enough pressure so he could make your lips touch. 

His cold nose brushed against your neck, breathing in your sweet scent, before so soon, a kiss being stolen from you. 

It started softly, almost showing his affection towards you but soon he deepened the kiss until your lips were sore. 

"Why do you smell so good?" Scaramouche whispered, pressing kisses down your neck. 

"Make love to me, please" You whimpered, gripping his clothes with weak and shaken hands. 

"You seem to not be able to focus on anything else besides my hands. Tell me, my love. Do you want me to do something with them?"

"Touch me, please" You whimpered. 

"Ah, I see. You're so obediently waiting for me to start playing around with you, yet I'm here, all words, no actions" His fingers left your chin to hold your face delicately, with his thumb brushing against your lower lip before he could steal a peck from you. "Let's get started with this" He whispered while laying you down on the comfortable bed before getting above you. 

A soft squeeze on the flesh of your breasts was enough to make you whimper.

And the thin fabric of your shirt made you feel every stimulation of his fingers against your nipples. They always had been a sensitive spot of yours and Scaramouche seemed to understand that rather quickly with the help of your reactions. 

Soon the soft touches were lowered to the level of your hips and thighs. The skilled fingers gained goosebumps from your body as the harbinger carefully explored your weaknesses. 

At some point, you unconsciously opened your legs, giving him enough room so he could finally touch your sex. Pulling your panties to the side, he teased your clit with his middle finger until it was soaked with your slick. 

"It seems you're nice and ready for me, even though I barely touched you" You felt his fingers brushing against your aching walls as he thrusted them into your sex. “Fuck, you’re perfect" 

You swallowed dryly with his statement, trying to not sound that needy. 

His fingers' pace suddenly became faster and the constant stimulation made you reach your high so easily it was almost comic. 

"Your little sounds are so cute yet so sinful" The harbinger whispered, taking his fingers off your walls right before he licked them clean. "And your taste is so freaking addictive I could eat you up all night long” 

“Scara… I need you now” You gasped, cheeks red in embarrassment. 

“You made a mess of me, doll" You could see through his pants how hard you had gotten him. “Wanna feel it inside of you, my love?” You nodded. 

Watching him taking off his shorts and underwear made you not pay attention to his next actions. 

Your heart skipped a beat when he pulled your body close to his. 

Your faces were really close once again that night as you felt the urge to pull him for a kiss before anything else could happen. 

"Can I?" He asked for permission after corresponding to your kiss. 

"I’m yours" 

Even though you were ready for him, it was difficult for you to take him properly inside your walls. 

The soft squeezes your insides made every now and then made him almost lose concentration while he built his pace up. 

"You feel so freaking good~" He was strong enough to pin you down with only one hand, as the other stimulated your bundle of nerves. "I absolutely adore how vulnerable you look while I ravish you like this" 

"Scara..." You squirmed under him as your orgasm got closer. "Deeper, please" 

A smile formed on his lips before he took your legs from his waist to put them above his shoulders, allowing him to reach deeper within you. 

You saw his frame through your blurry eyes: his hair looked so beautiful even when the indigo locks were messy because of his movements. His hand wasn't holding your own against the mattress anymore so you took the chance to caress his hair with love before pleading;

“Bite me” And your wish was finally fulfilled before the harbinger laughed quietly at how lovely you looked: red cheeks, plumpy lips, sweaty and marked skin with some of the hickeys he had given you. “Fuck… I’m close…” 

 “Don’t cum without my permission” He ordered, before thrusting against your sex even faster, making your hips sore. Holding back your orgasm made you feel weak, but obeying his orders to make him proud was worth it. 

“Please…” You whimpered, marking his back with soft scratches. “Please, let me cum, master… I c-can’t hold it any longer…” 

A smile formed on his lips. 

“Deliver it to me, my darling” Was what he said before both of your bodies got soft due your climax.  "I'm glad I finally made you mine again after craving you for so damn long" Pulling him to a kiss, you both exchanged glances of affection before you asked him for another detail. 

"Don't pull out" You whimpered, bringing his body ever closer to yours. 

"I won’t pull out for now…" You felt a kiss against the skin of your neck. 

“Could you cuddle me?” You whispered shyly.

“So pure and so passionate…” His thumb brushed against your lips. “I’ll cuddle you all night long, my doll. And in the morning, I’ll still be here. I don’t care about the Tsaritsa rules” 

• Time break •

The next morning, you still felt his body against yours, cuddling you with love. 

“Scara…?”

“I’m here” 

"Could you make me yours once again?"

Venti's Scenario 

16. “I think we were a little too loud last night”

25. “Don’t cum without my permission” 

26. “I think ropes would look lovely on you”

44. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

53. “Remember the safeword, you're allowed to use it” 

55. “I may or may not have left some…. Marks”

"Being so vulnerable and devoted to your God is something beautiful, my muse" The bard's voice was nothing but a murmur against your lips. "I could almost write a song about our love, so the winds would tell the entire Teyvat the story of a mere bard and his loved one" With that, the kiss finally started, making you melt under his body. His tongue explored your mouth with delicacy, slowly sucking your own tongue every now and then before he broke the contact to breathe properly. 

You felt something brushing against your arms' skin before you gasped his name. 

"Venti..." A smile formed on his lips. 

"I think ropes would look lovely on you" 

"Ropes...? Are you planning-" A cute giggle left his lips before the god started bondaging your body to his taste. 

"Your innocence is so sweet, my muse" 

The first spot that got his attention were your breasts and a silly but meaningful idea crossed his mind. 

His slim fingers traced patterns above your flesh, making you focus on what was he writing against your skin. 

"M... I... N... E..." You whispered. "Mine..." 

"You're a quick learner, my muse" His face got closer to yours so he could murmur something against your ear. "You belong to me" Lowering his head, his tongue now swirling around your nipples, making you squirm under him while his slim fingers traveled to your core, stimulating you to the point that tears of pleasure formed in the corner of your eyes. 

"Venti... Just like that..."  His fingers stretched you out for him for long minutes until your body couldn't take it anymore. 

Your whimpers told him you were close, but letting you cum without having him inside you so he could feel the soft squeezes of your walls while he marked you with his seed was a waste. 

“Don’t cum without my permission” He told you with a demanding tone, before letting his fingers go off you. "You should do as I say, right, my muse? You want to make your master proud, don't you?" 

"Yes, Venti... I wanna make you proud of me" 

"Ne, my muse... You provoked me all day long... Touching me, stealing kisses and whispering lewd thoughts against my ear... You really thought you're the one in charge in this relationship?" A soft chuckle left his lips before he entered your sex without much warning. 

"F-Fuck... Mhm~" Your back arched a little in the perfect angle to show how deep he was into you with the bulge on your belly. "So... S-So deep..." Your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you felt his hips collapsing against yours at a hard pace. 

"Look at you... You can barely talk properly, my muse..." He kissed your forehead. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

The ropes created enough friction against your skin to provide some pain that mixed with pleasure made you feel alive for once. 

His length brushed against the certain spot that made you melt under him while he marked your body as his and his only. 

"Barbatos-" His true name left your mouth when you felt overstimulated for the first time that night. "Too much..." 

"Remember the safeword, you're allowed to use it” 

"All I need is you, now" You said softly in answer, even though you were feeling so many sensations that your mind was foggy. 

You didn’t remember much of what happened after you finally reached your climax. 

You could say you whimpered when you felt his warm essence entering your womb, instinctively pulling his body against yours as you both came down from your high. 

Your body was feeling too heavy and sleepiness made you fall into a slumber. 

The next morning, the sunlight woke you up. 

"Windblume..." Venti, who was cuddling you, whispered in your ear. "Good morning, my muse" You squeezed his hand as an answer, still way too sleepy to start a conversation. 

"I think we were a little too loud last night" Was the only thing you said within long minutes of cuddling. 

"Oh... You think so, my muse? But... I must admit that being a bit loud is part of my personality" He kissed your neck delicately to not hurt the sore skin from his hickeys. "Mhm... Windblume?" 

"Yes?" 

“I may or may not have left some…. Marks”

"V-Venti, come on... I still work at the tavern, you know?" You complained. 

"Ne, it's okay, princess. People will simply know that you belong to me forever" His voice became mischievous. "And you can't say you weren't in the mood for some marks"

Xiao's Scenario

8. "You’re so turned on already? That was fast" 

11. "I want you now" 

14. “Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good” 

32. “Make love to me, please” 

51. “Your scent drives me crazy” 

52. “I'm not done with you yet”

55. “I may or may not have left some…. Marks”* Changed to: "I may or may not leave some marks on you" 

Having the one woman that messed up with the adeptus' feelings right in front of him made him aware of what could happen next. 

"Xiao...?" You asked quietly, getting up from your bed at Wangshu Inn rapidly. 

"My apologies. Appearing out of nowhere like I do may scare humans like you. I just felt I should check on you, is all" His eyes glowed intensely inside the barely illuminated room. 

"To... Check on me?" You asked confused, since he almost never showed up to you, even though he was always in the same area.

He didn't answer you, but a scoff of irritation left his lips, making you shiver. 

"Is there something wrong? Are you hurt...?" 

"I need to be honest, is all, (Name)" His voice carried some frustration. 

You nodded, giving him space to start talking whenever he felt comfortable to do so. The worst thing you could do with Xiao was pressuring him in any way. 

"I hate feeling like this. But you changed me. You managed to destroy the walls I passed centuries building up just so I could isolate myself from anyone or anything. You with your way of being... You showed me a side of myself I didn't even know was alive anymore. You showed me that perhaps giving myself a chance to start over isn't as dreadful as I thought..." He approached you with careful steps, checking your reactions to see if he could go any further. 

Your heart skipped a beat with his words. 

So after all this time you both had met... Xiao was finally able to comprehend what he was truly feeling? 

"I'm stretching on this speech... What I need to say is... I love you, and I need you, (Name)"

The distance between you two disappeared when you pulled him to a kiss. 

• Time break • 

"Your scent drives me crazy" The adeptus almost whimpered against the crook of your neck. "I've been trying to deny my feelings towards you but it's useless... I think we just need to get carried away with our urges" 

His hands moved swiftly across your body, your breasts, arms and thighs. 

"I want you now" He moans as he pulls your panties to the level of your knees just so he could rub your clit against his thumb.

"Xiao..." Your voice was shaky. "S-So sensitive..." 

"You’re so turned on already? That was fast" The adeptus teases as he feels you squeeze the finger he now pumped inside your heat. 

Your little sounds made the most sinful thoughts cross his mind while he explored possibilities with your body. 

"Good, good..." He murmurs as he continues to work your clit with his thumb while two other fingers stimulate your sweet spots. "Such a good girl you're, (Name)..." 

"Please... I need more" You gasped. 

"Make love to me, please” You moan as you feel his hands on your breasts just so his fingers could pinch your nipples.

He then slams into you, filling you so perfectly well that every muscle of your body goes into spasm. Your eyes water as you try to blink them back shut, but you can't stop the hot tears from streaming down your cheeks as your body continues to tremble every single time Xiao thrusts into your insides. 

“Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good” His voice was raw, showing the side of him he always tried to hide

"Oh gods" You mutter as you clutch his shoulders and kiss him, your tongue exploring his mouth as he kisses you back.

You feel his hands on your hips, then his fingers trailing down your inner thighs he holds you tightly during your lovemaking. 

You can feel the tip of his length almost pressing against your cervix, and you can feel as your walls tightened around him as your orgasm hits you. 

"Xiao..." You sounded like an angel to him. Pressing his body against your even more with your legs as his hips rock back and forth against yours non-stop, you soon felt he had finally reached his high. 

A warm liquid marked every of your walls' crevices in jolts, as his breathing became uneasy right before Xiao stole a kiss from your lips. 

An almost aggressive kiss that showed you his desires were not satisfied just yet. 

"I'm not done with you yet” A weak smile formed on his lips as he brushed a lock from your hair out of your forehead. "May this night make up for the time we've lost" 

"Still..." He continues. "I may or may not leave some marks on you" 

"It's not like I'll mind them" You answered before changing positions.

Zhongli's Scenario 

5. "Shit, I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-" 

11. “I want you now” 

14. "Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good" 

31. "You want me to claim you, don't you?"

47. "Come for me, you've done so well"

51. “Your scent drives me crazy” 

TW: Omegaverse things

"Shit, I forgot my suppressants and my heat is going to start soon-" You whimpered, thinking you were alone inside that place. 

You could only hope your scent wasn't too strong or tempting at that moment. Afterall, with your status as an omega and having an alpha being your manager was specifically hard due your instincts. 

Your nature could take the best of you at any moment and that thought by itself was almost terrifying. 

"Hey" Zhongli's voice made you jolt in place. "Hey, it's okay..." 

"Zhongli... You were supposed to come to work only t-tomorrow-" Before you could finish your line your knees faltered due to the weakness from your heat. 

To your surprise, strong hands prevent you from falling, leading to both of your bodies pressing against each other. 

"Didn’t expect to see me here?" His voice sounded confused. "Or it's only a deception I came here during such a delicate moment, my omega?" 

“So you noticed that detail…”

"So warm, sweet and inviting" You felt a kiss against your nape. It was so delicate and desperate it made his mind sink into lewd thoughts. "You're aware of the truth, right?"

“Zhongli…?” He inhaled your aroma slowly, letting every note of your scent trigger the right sensations from his being.

“Sooner or later our natures will take the lead. It’s better to get to know each other while our minds aren’t so hazy” 

“Please, m-make this stop-” You whimpered when his fingers pressed against the place a bond mark should be. 

“Your scent drives me crazy” The man whispered, before carefully  leaning you on the table of the office. “I’ll make you mine, and I’ll be yours” 

Zhongli started kissing your stomach as his hands gripped your hips tightly right before opening your legs with strong hands, massaging your entrance right above the fabric of your panties. 

Your back arched a little with the friction and you moaned. 

"You're so vulnerable like this it hurts" 

“Zhongli… I want you now… I need you now”

"You want me to claim you, don't you?" 

"Mhm…" 

He was already hard, ready to just penetrate you. Stroking his member and brushing himself against your folds almost drove him insane. 

The one who was your boss penetrated you slowly, enjoying every inch of his cock being involved by your wet and warm walls. With his length now entirely inside you, his tip almost reached your cervix. 

"Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel good" 

Morax started his thrusts and your slick only made it easier for him to do what he craved and needed. 

His lips captured yours in a warm and slow kiss and his tongue explored your mouth as he stimulated your clit with the fingers of one of his hands. 

Everything quickly became too much to you, with your orgasm being so close it almost hurted. 

"Alpha!" You whined, your nails scratching his back in pleasure.

"Come for me, you've done so well"

And your body obeyed him that time, and many other times later.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Could I request Benny x female reader where they engage in mutual masturbation and they make out throughout?

Touch

Pairing: Benny Miller x best friend f!reader

Word Count: 1900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Listen. This was a hot ask. I'll admit, I had to think on this one a bit (and that was mostly staring at the wall). A huge thanks to @mermaidxatxheart as usual for listening to my Ted Talks and insecurities.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“The date went bad I take it?” Benny’s eyebrows are raised as he motions for me to come inside his apartment. He closes the door behind me as I huff.

“He kept taking out his phone and texting. His mom. He was giving her a play by play of our date.”

Benny chuckled. “What? During your date?”

I kick off my heels and set them on his shoe mat. “I’m all for strong family bonds, but maybe wait until after the date? I could barely talk to him. It was literally every 2 minutes.”

Benny chuckled again. “Well I’m sorry it sucked. You’re welcome to come finish this terrible movie I’m watching.”

I follow Benny to his couch, plopping down next to him. We’d been best friends for years. He was always someone I could count on to be there for me, good or bad. He never judged or questioned me, but somehow always seemed to have an answer to my problems. He hands me a drink and offers me some popcorn from the giant bowl in his lap. I grab a handful and watch whatever b horror movie is on the tv. 

“Ugh even the ugly ass monster in this bad movie is getting laid why can’t I?”

Benny coughs, choking a little on his popcorn. “What?”

Fuck, I said that out loud. 

“I uh…nothing.”

He takes a swig from his drink, clearing the last of the popcorn. “Afraid no one will touch you again?”

I groan, but I’m also desperate for advice. “No. Well…maybe. It’s not even sex. I just want someone to touch me again. Someone that’s not me or Henry Cavill.”

Benny laughs, his head flying back. “You know Henry Cavill?”

I can feel the heat on my cheeks, but I’ve already said it. “That’s…that’s the name of my vibrator.” His laughter is contagious and I can’t stop myself from smiling. He makes some quips about it and then something happens in the movie that captures our attention. 

“I can help you with that if you’d like.”

My head snaps in his direction. “What?” Did he just offer to…surely not.

He turns his head, his bright blue eyes boring into mine, a sparkle in them. “I can help you with your problem.”

Heat burns my cheeks and I’m grasping at words. Surely he doesn’t mean…he can’t…without thinking, I glance down at his hands, the grip on his bottle, and how small it looks in them. I swallow hard.

“Ben, be serious.”

He leans forward, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly as he places his bottle on the coffee table before sitting back, casually laying an arm across the back of the couch as if he didn’t just suggest shoving his hand down my pants. 

“I’m serious, sweetheart. Look, you’ve had a really rough go of it. And I would make sure you were taken care of. You’re too pent up. Let some steam out.”

I shift slightly in my seat, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. It’s not that I’ve never thought about it. Benny is extremely attractive. I just never would ever think he’d be ok with that with me. For me? I can’t even think. 

“Ben…I can’t lose your friendship. That would break me.”

He extends a long finger from the hand that’s across the back of the couch and pokes my head. “Do you think I’d ever let that happen?”

I swat at his hand out of reflex. “Is that something we could control though?”

He thinks for a moment. “It’s us. We’re best friends. We take care of each other. I think we’d be fine.”

“But what if it changes everything?”

He takes my hand in his large one, completely engulfing me. He looks into my eyes and does that thing where his eyebrows pull together and makes me melt. “I promise to not let it change the way I feel about you. Do you promise?”

Could I make that promise? The not-so-minor crush I’ve harbored for him for years is begging. Your feelings won’t change because you already like him. 

“How would…I mean, what would you…”

Benny shifts to face me better. “I’d touch you however you need me to. Maybe make out a little bit if you need to be distracted.”

I press my thighs together, hoping that he didn’t notice. But judging by the way he shifts and his eyes darken slightly, I think he very much noticed. Pressing my thighs together did nothing to quell the heat, my body begging me to just let me be touched. I feel safe with Benny and I know he’d never cross a line. My skin is hot thinking about it and I finally cave, promising myself that we’d still be friends. Just friends that gave each other a hand sometimes. 

Before I can talk myself out of it, I nod, moving to undo the button on my pants. Benny reaches out and stills my hand with his own and I look up at him.

“I need you to say it out loud, sweetheart.”

I swallow hard, trying my best to give him eye contact. Were his eyes always so blue? 

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what? I need specifics.”

I let out a huff and this fucker chuckles. “Touch me, Benny. I..want you to touch me.”

Benny scoots closer to me on the couch, his leg pressed against mine. His large hand cups my cheek as he dips his head close to mine, his breath puffing out over my face, fanning the anticipatory fire between my thighs. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers. 

“Yes.” 

I barely get it out before his lips are on mine, soft but guiding, his tongue gently probing at my lips. I open them and his tongue slides inside my mouth, gracefully dancing with my own as he moans slightly into me. Both of his hands are on my face now, cupping my cheeks as he continues to kiss me. Then one moves to the back of my head, slightly gripping my hair as he tips my head back, exposing my neck to him. I gasp as his teeth skirt along my skin, gently nipping and kissing along my pulse point. The hand that isn’t entangled in my hair starts to glide down my body, barely even fumbling as he unbuttons my pants. But he doesn’t touch me. Not yet. Over my jeans, he caresses my inner thighs as I spread my legs, tracing the line where my underwear sits, up and down, up and down, driving me mad. My heart is racing, pounding against my ears. I feel him pause just above my mound and I want to cry. 

“Can you slide your pants off for me?” He breathes into my ear. My hands fumble as I try to shove and kick my pants off, ignoring the smirk on Benny’s face as the pants land somewhere across the room. 

“Panties too. Promise I won’t look.” He covers his face, a large gap between his fingers where his eye is obviously looking out. 

“Don’t you need to see?”

He closes the gap in his fingers but keeps his eyes covered. “Nope. Your sounds will guide me to where I need to be.”

Fuck. Me.

I toss my underwear somewhere by my pants. “Ok I’m-”

I have no time to think because he’s back on me, kissing me hard, like he’s never needed anything so bad. My fingers tangle in his hair, the cool air from his apartment hitting my bare skin, but I don’t care. Benny’s large hand is on my inner thighs again, tracing circles, but also pushing them open. I keep them where he leaves them, my body practically shaking with anticipation.

One long finger slides down me and I jolt, my thighs trying to close, but he pushes them back open before resuming his touch. He slides all the way down to my entrance, gently tracing circles there and I gasp, my eyes still closed as I let myself get lost in his touch. Our foreheads are pressed together, his own breaths coming out a little more ragged as he drags his dampened finger back up me, pausing when my legs jump. He takes his time at this spot, small circles across my clit, fast and slow, fast and slow, my breaths coming out in small, fast pants. 

He slows his movements, gently pushing a finger inside me. I moan, louder as he pulls out and adds a second finger, curling them inside of me as he moves them in and out. One spot has me gasping his name and that’s where he stays, curling and rubbing inside of me as his thumb resumes circling my clit, slow and fast, gentle and harder, the pressure building quick and fast. I grip his wrist and he stills. 

“Can I touch you? I want you to come with me.”

He nods and I move my hand over and undo his button, sliding his zipper down gently. He’s already hard, straining against his boxers. I lower them enough for him to spring free and he grunts. I grip his wrist again and pull his hand out of me with a whimper, but then slide him back in and out, fucking myself with his hand a few times as he moans in my ear. Then I take his wet hand and rub it against my palm, dropping his hand back on me before gripping him with my slicked hand. He whimpers, swearing under his breath before he pushes his fingers inside me again, immediately resuming the slow curling and rubbing, his thumb pressing gently on my clit. I slowly work him up and down, squeezing harder and softer, matching my pace to his. He kisses me hard but then breaks it, our foreheads pressed together as we pant and moan. 

In some super move, he pushes me onto my back, his hand still firmly working me over, my legs spread wide as he settles between them, fucking his hips into my hand. His arm strains next to me as he holds himself up, curling his fingers a little deeper, swirling a little more and I can’t hold back anymore. I cum, his name tumbling from my lips in praise, my legs twitching as I pulse around his fingers. Another few presses of his hips and Benny grunts, small pants coming from him as he spills himself over my stomach, my shirt hiked up to my chest. We stay like that for several long moments, both of us trying to catch our breaths. His eyes open and meet mine, holding my gaze for a moment before he blinks, pulling his hand from me as he sits up. He tucks himself back in as he looks around, shrugs, then reaches behind him and pulls his shirt up and over his head. He drops his shirt on my cunt, using the sleeve to clean off my stomach, to hold up his promise of not looking. He glances down and picks up my underwear and pants, handing them to me as he turns his head away. I make sure I’m cleaned off before getting dressed, sitting back down on the couch, the movie still playing on in the background. Minutes pass in silence between us, my stomach twisting in knots with every passing second. 

Benny clears his throat. “So…are we never talking about this again or can I finally take you on a date?”

My eyes snap up to him, his already on me. There’s no pressure here, he’d be ok if I said we’re never talking about it again. But that’s not what I want. 

“Just so long as we can have dessert at home.”

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[yuurivoice]

I totally get hating like parent type questions for the boys, but would it be out of line to ask why you aren't a fan? Don't feel pressure to answer, it's really your business and your business only. Either way I hope we'll all make an effort to stay away from that area in the future!

The flashback EP is INSANE, thank you for feeding us Mr. Voice, the YouTube algorithm's choices on what and what not to age restrict always baffles me, I feel like the Auron yearning one was incredibly tame

Because in a medium that caters specifically to women 90% of the time, I've done my best to remain both gender and sex neutral. The specific fantasy of seeing the boys in a fatherhood role, while not explicitly tied to carrying a baby to term, is a very logical assumption the audience would want to make.

And that is wildly exclusionary.

So, let's follow the thread of "well it could be an adoption, some kind of au where they already had a kid, etc" and we end up with a loud audience of people who then want the pregnancy fantasy specifically. And I get to keep saying no, despite already caving in and giving the fatherhood thing.

There is also a segment of people out there who want to be the one being babied. I've literally had ppl ask for parent roleplays where listener is the offspring. And while I don't doubt that someone out there needs to hear assuring, confirming words from a parent, it sure as hell ain't worth someone being creepy about it. Mind you, I'm not just talking about ddlg type shit, that's fine. No biggie there.

This can of worms keeps going, I could list a dozen more ways that there's some kind of uncomfortable potential issue. Versus...me just saying nah fam I'm good!

So I'm good! Also my fuckin swimmers don't swim and I'll never be a bio father, and i have conflicting feelings about it, which I'll throw in for free as a "do ya get it now?" final point to make. People got their reasons for things, both personal and professional.

It's not a huge deal, what really bothers me is the way it would alienate a fairly significant amount of the audience, or open the door to it.

I absolutely understand the appeal, it's just not something I'm looking to tackle in any scenario where the listener may be involved. I've got plenty of parent characters, though none are in the active role of parenting a young child at the moment. 😂

This is why I come up with other ways to show characters nurturing, teaching, or doing other fatherly things in less direct ways. But yeahhh. That's my deal. It's not a huge burden or issue when people ask, it just bums me out because certainly someone is going to see the question being asked and feel like someone out there didn't consider them in this scenario. And that blows, even though it's obviously not a malicious thing.

As for YouTube, it's veryyyyy likely just the proximity of the kiss to the word fuck. These systems are too stupid to realize the deal. 😂

[wholesalemagnesiumoxide]

The Simslops Afterword

hello everybody! thank you for reading my book. seeing people talk about it has been very gratifying & encouraging.

i was going to write this up essay style, but doing it as a q&a is more fun and still lets me cover everything i wanted to, so let's begin.

q&a

first off, a question from @aminoasinine which i'll address in parts:

I really enjoyed Simslops, and in particular I think the "dwarf fortress event log" style of writing is a great way to showcase the machine/algorithm aspect of it. What software was used for this? Did it have trouble keeping track of so many characters? I noticed the centipedes and other numbered masses were accurately tracked throughout the text, which is something that I know AI tends to struggle with. I'm also curious to know how much of the chapters' 'plot' was laid out in advance by the prompting, and whether any major events were the result of emergent narrative. In particular, the coffin + Maude's Salvation plot towards the end definitely felt like direct intervention on your part, but was the AI reacting to you inserting those things, or were you editing the text around them after the fact?

the simslops is the product of a custom program written in nodejs. the source code is available at the download page if you want to examine it in detail, but the core of the framework is as follows:

there are actors, items, and rooms with names and numerical flags.

there are actions, each defined by their conditions, effects upon the scene, and chance of being selected.

each chapter is defined by its starting conditions and available actions.

each round or tick (whatever you want to call it), a random available action is applied to the scene.

this is repeated until an action ends the scene or there are no more actions left to perform.

each action narrates itself when applied to a scene. for example, the source code for the "pick up an item" action looks like this:

hopefully this is at least semi-intelligible if you don't know javascript. the first parameter defines what the action acts upon: in this case, an actor and an item. the second is the condition: the item must not already be held, and it must not have the pickupAttempted flag. the third is responsible for how the action affects the scene, and the string it returns is how the action is described in the text. when an actor goes to pick something up, if that something is immovable, this is noted. (otherwise every scene devolves into everybody struggling to pick up a couch.) if it's not immovable, the actor picks it up. the first case is described with "actor tries to pick up item, but it's hardly portable." (a reference to the inform 7 default responses) and the second with "actor picks up item." the fourth parameter says to multiply this action's weight by ten if the item in question has a description and has yet to be examined.

each action is defined similarly. a handful use grammars for more varied output, but the majority just have simple fill-in-the-blank sentences. all together there's nearly 6k lines of nodejs to define the whole book. this project started as a test case for this framework, actually. i was outlining a short story and hating it and had a thought: what if i wrote a program to generate an outline for me? then i could have a skeleton to work from and could get to the fun part, the actual writing. out of whimsy i decided to put some simpsons characters in a room and make them fuck. this is a more exhaustive test case than you'd expect. it handles solo actions (moaning) and pair actions (lustful looks & sex.) sex only happens when both participants are horny, which requires setting flags for each actor. kramer's appearance is an action not tied to anything in the scene, and giving birth is an action that creates new actors. a great deal of my motivation here (and in many other things) was "wouldn't it be funny / fucked up if..." but it also did its job of test case pretty well. once i added items, that necessitated inventories; theft & picking up & putting down all require certain types of checks.

it's funny that you mention emergent narrative, because i really think the simslops really became what it was in the telling. early in the process i became enamored with the image of one of the characters descending through text adventure geography, lost and alone. thus came the turn to pathos. i had read "does marge have friends" some time prior, which inspired maude's inclusion and the role she plays. from there i built things out with twin eyes toward thematics and "funny/fucked up". i do find it interesting to what extent all that was emergent from the implementation. it's a framework that tends towards reducing things to mush. a semantic satiation machine.

anyway, i hope this answers your question --- it's not LLM-based, it uses older, more "traditional" procgen techniques. the plot of each chapter is roughly scaffolded by the actions i attach to it. it's really incredibly authored; it's difficult for this framework to surprise me except by juxtaposition. under this framework it's also pretty trivial to track any number of actors. so, to answer this question from @zedogica:

how much of simslops was embellished from the original generated text? a few moments stood out to me

none of it. you can download the source and get your own personal simslops. the only human embellishment was done during development. in an ideal world, this would live on a server somewhere and everyone could download a unique generation. unfortunately, i don't have the knowhow for that kind of thing. (my understanding is that you need to do a lot when writing server-side code to make sure you don't expose a million security vulnerabilities.) i've contented myself with doing what i can client-side: releasing the source code & setting up the download button to give you one of five pre-generated outputs.

returning to aminoasinine's question:

I also really like the difference in language used during the Deviltongue chapters. It's interesting to see what changes when the tone is explicitly defined as 'horror' or 'scary', and how that seemingly translates to those bizarre compound words like tribulationmalice and torturefrenzy. I think it's my favorite chapter(s) in general because of how it takes a much different tone and hammers it into the same monotonous nothing as the other chapters despite its more 'active' and ostensibly 'less boring' setting than your standard centipede sex house. everything shakes and moans and howls with blood-malice, lymph and spines standing on end, over and over until it doesn't mean anything anymore. everyone and everything is trembling in fear of a grim finality bearing down that never actually comes, because nothing ever ends. It's the same nothing-emotion as all the unbearable passionate lust in the sex scenes, an emotional signifier that signifies absolutely nothing.

thank you! the strange compounds are a product of the aforementioned grammars, as are the shaking and moaning and howling. writing the dungeon & horror chapters made me realize i really like broad, dumb pastiches. there's something very satisfying about taking cliches and mangling them.

Anyway, the choice to have 'pet the dog' in every scene did not go unnoticed, I think the last three lines are my favorite part, and finally, I think every book from now on should open with a horoscope chart made from out of context quotes. Thank you for making this, I will be watching your neocities with great interest :)

thank you for reading it! two fun facts about the horoscopes:

each entry's text is taken from a random item description.

the dates are wrong, each offset by a day. due to my strong personal convictions i wished to stress that this novella in no way endorses the practice of astrology.

an anonymous question:

So Marge crying during the video game sequence show the reduction of feelings into simple fun, even though the human experiencing the games in question might feel other emotions when playing them. But what do the horror sections represent? I got the gist of most parts, but as I don’t engage with horror medium often I feel like the commentary is lost on me. What were you trying to say with the horror sections, in other words?

first: one of the major benefits of the framework i used here is that it's very good at creating unintended juxtapositions. the only prerequisite for weeping is if the actor in question is holding part of a corpse, but depending on the context, it can take on a number of different connotations.

second:

a lot of usamerican horror films (particularly aliens and predator) are sublimations of the anxieties surrounding the vietnam war. both are about big grizzled soldier guys getting picked off by an unseen yet omnipresent foe who can strike from anywhere. hell, one of them is even set in a jungle. slender: the eight pages, being a game about the Scary Getter following you around in a forest, feels of a type with these.

seymour skinner was a us soldier in the vietnam war.

in that vein, another anonymous question:

also I understand almost all of the references in the chicken’s names but how does sylvester stallone figure into colonialism?

one of sylvester stallone's two big roles is the rambo series, where he's a heroic us soldier rescuing prisoners of war in vietnam, repelling the soviets in afghanistan, or performing other jingoistic acts of horrendous violence. the other is rocky where he plays a white boxer (the "italian stallion") who's built up as a contender to the current reigning champion, Black boxer apollo creed. he's of a type with the other americana culture slop included, i think.

another question from aminoasinine:

Damn, I thought of another question right after I sent that long-ass ask. What was the thought process behind making The Bart such a minor part of the story? Is it out of a desire (or the AI's internal rules) not to have a child present in the gore/sex chapters, or is it more about how Bart as a character seems almost /more/ of a product or symbol than any of the other characters? Like, he can't really mingle with the other 'people' in this setting, because he is something beyond, having transcended any semblance of characterhood to become ONLY product? Is this the end state of every simslop, to eventually be reduced to a series of identical stimuli on a conveyor belt of endless content?

i settled on the cast of characters pretty early. homer and marge are obvious. ned is also pretty obvious. maude is the emotional core. "kramer bursts in" is a pretty common meme. and i had steamed hams edits on the brain, so seymour gets to come, too. i scaffolded out my story with a focus on these six and whatever pathos & resonance i could wring out of them.

i don't think i had any plans to include bart until i came up with that pun. "the work of bart in the age of mechanical reproduction." that + the factory itself is a very good illustration of the funny/fucked up philosophy & dichotomy. (i think i also had the bart doll from the trash meteor episode of futurama in mind.)

anyway, to answer your actual question: yeah, i didn't want to put bart in the main story because i didn't want to put a child in the mix, and he didn't fit in the outline i had drawn up. i think the intermissions pretty accurately capture the pathos of bart & milhouse, though. the funko pop scamp and the perpetual punching-bag.

this next question is from @where-your-eyes-dont-go:

I'm curious about the reason for "_ pets the dog" being such a frequent refrain in so many sections. I could read it a few ways— it's an action that's often used to humanize characters, and it occasionally does seem to give the characters more apparent personhood, the action almost automatically being interpreted by the reader as affection showcasing an internal life—but its repetition seems to force the reader to instead view it as just another merely automatic process. It also could be a bit of commentary on the common claim that a "pet the dog" button in video games automatically makes such games better. I'd love to know more about your thought process here.

early in the development process, i added "actor votes blue." as an inane flavor action. rqd suggested they pet the dog, and i thought it was brilliant. "can you pet the dog" is exactly the kind of empty posturing i want to satirize. i thought it would be best if the dog is never simulated otherwise. just as petting the dog is an empty gesture in games, in the simslops the dog only exists "in flavor", not mechanically. there is no dog actor or dog affection flag, it's just implied there's a dog around for each scene. the suggestion of something cozy and wholesome and cute happening without any actual substance. (and bob was there, too.)

(a friend had to dissuade me from adding "actor realizes why they're called Kojima games" as another flavor action.)

this anonymous question befuddled me a bit:

have you read Marge Simpson Anime?

"marge simpson anime... what in the world is marge simpson anime?" and then i looked it up and found a tumblr blog with a bunch of drawings of marge and went "oh yeah! marge simpson anime!" i haven't read it, but i've definitely seen it around, and i'm definitely at least in conversation with it.

(on the subject of things i'm in conversation with, i realized recently that i absolutely should have put too many cooks and the simpsons au where homer is in pain in the further reading section.)

a question from @theoretically-questionable:

I'm curious as to why the choices of both explicit sexual acts and disregard for consistent anatomy within said acts were made for Simslops; was it simply a transgression, influenced by the (surprising) amount of actual simpsons porn, or something else?

this one also befuddled me. my original intent had been to generate oddball descriptions of a consistent set of genitals, but, like. on further reflection, that super isn't borne out by the text. i think my mental image of things changed when i added the "adverbly-verbing" snowclone to the sex grammar. (score one for emergent narrative.) my initial motivation was that i think over-the-top, too-mechanical-to-be-erotic sex is a fun thing to write a generator for, and i find kramer and homer doing obscene things to each other amusing. the end result is a lot more mastaba snoopy in a way i really like.

here's a question from @txttletale:

why the simpsons? as opposed to, for example, family guy

i've had to think for a while on this. my instinctive response is "it was essentially random, an act of whimsy," but that's not a very good answer. surely something drew me to the simpsons, even if it was subconscious. let's try and peel it back a layer. my next theory has to do with pathos. it is very difficult to wring anything remotely poignant out of peter griffin. you put peter griffin in a scary cave and he goes "this reminds me of the time i was in the descent" and we get some inane cutaway gag. i can't imagine lois expressing anything more sincere than a scott the woz video. there's an obvious pathos to meg, the constant butt of the joke; treating her with any degree of seriousness gets you pathos in spades. similarly, that comic where chris griffin and bart simpson go to couples therapy is genuinely affecting. there's something there, but it's a very different something from what the simslops ended up being. (for one, i wouldn't feel comfortable doing all the centipede sex stuff if my principal characters are kids.) there's a similar issue with trying this with south park (which was also something i don't have much familiarity with). while the fandom has bafflingly devoted a great deal of time and energy to the emotional struggles of those little weirdos, i don't really see much potential there.

on the other end, we have futurama, a show with perhaps too much emotional weight to go in the blender in the same way. like, there are the episodes with fry's dog and fry's brother and leela's parents. similarly, bob's burgers and bojack horseman (and i'm sure many other shows) draw their characters too realistically. the simpsons hits a sweet spot. its characters are cartoon-enough, commodified-enough, and emotional-enough. they're in the goldilocks zone along all these axes.

in the simpsons movie, there's a bit where bart and ned go fishing. bart messes up somehow, ned goes to assist, and bart flinches away, expecting to be strangled. what was once a comedy routine, a subversion of the "father-knows-best" sitcom family, is treated with real emotional weight.

how did they ever come back from that? by the end of the film homer had redeemed himself as a person and as a father. it was the emotional climax of the movie or whatever. roll credits. there were a million billion more seasons and despite the increasing age of the voice cast, more simpsons are extruded every day. why bother? the rotten heart was laid bare nearly two decades ago.

finally, a question from @fattyopossum:

have you seen any interpretations of it youd consider like. unexpected, in either a good ro bad way? any takes on it now that its been out that youw erent expecting people to get or new interpretations people brought to it that really resonated with you

a lot of the thematic weight of the simslops feels post-hoc to me, like a new interpretation that wasn't there when i wrote it. again, it really became what it was in the telling; technical decisions lead to thematic weight. all characters who have sex have the same genitalia. i decided this because it made writing the sex grammar easier. however, it's also a huge thematic boon. casting marge and maude as transfem makes maude's abjection and their love for eachother much more impactful. it's really easy for me to get chicken-or-the-egg about it. which came first, the High Artistry or the Funny/Fucked Up?

(the real answer, of course, is that it doesn't matter. the text exits anyway and i must shepherd it as it exists, not as i intended it. ego death of the author.)

as for other people's interpretations: i'm quite pleased about the reasoning that anon expressed earlier for why marge was crying while platforming. i was also happy to hear a friend's read that kramer had finally found peace in the meadows, that she's with the girls and relaxing and having snacks. it's not really borne out by the text, but it's such a comforting thought, right? maybe if we imagine kramer happy, she will be.

trivia

the first commit hit my git repo in september 2024, and the simslops released march 2025. all in all it took about six months of on-and-off work.

the name "deviltongue" comes from a character i played in a game of neptune's pride. he ended up getting betrayed and dying badly. so it goes. (on a similar note: as a kid, i thought his name actually was "slideshow bob".)

originally, the sundervalley chapters were going to feature more of the classic cozy small farmer simulator tropes. homer was gonna go fishing and chat up the town's eligible bachelors: crow, tom, and cam. it would've distracted too much from the real core of the chapter, though, so it never got implemented.

my original design for the cover looked like this:

i'm still not sure i made the right decision switching to the final composition. i like the oddness of eyes on the hair in that version, but the lines over the hair in the this version remind me of one of the ways you see dicks censored in hentai, which feels thematically appropriate.

on that subject, this texture:

is a heavily mangled collage of a bunch of ai generated images, each of which was created by using the name of a simpsons' character as both prompt and negative prompt. it shows up in the download buttons and (in heavily desaturated form) on the final version of the cover.

the blurbs were slightly modified grammar output. i was pretty fried the day of release & wasn't able to think of anything, so rqd suggested i use a relevant wikipedia extract and use a grammar for the blurbs. i think it turned out pretty well.

there are six secret characters in the simslops. have you found them?

future work

i think i've taken this framework as far as it will go. the system of numerical flags got bent when i stored the farm workers' country of origin as text. the more linear plotted segments required a set of flags trading off each other, which is fiddly to coordinate. generally, everything is very siloed off. the clearest example of this is in the grammars for generating the various bits of procedural text. they're fun to write, and i'm always delighted by the results, but there's a lot of duplication of effort in my current approach. each chapter that uses procedural text has its own grammar with its own set of words and phrases. this is basically fine in this case, but it's not something i want to deal with for future projects. writing grammars is fun, like building a shipyard in a bottle, but it gets mind-numbing after a while. you can only come up with synonyms for laugh so many times, yknow?

my dream is a single massive grammar all output text runs through. since my grammar system can handle conjugating verbs and adding a/an in front of words, integrating all text output with that system would simplify all sorts of things. then i could have big lists of words to query for relevant adjectives or nouns with specific associations, procedural sentence structures, referents that know what adjectives apply to them...

it's really easy to get feature crept in this sphere. we'll see how much of this i'll be able to implement. i don't think all that is necessary to make the simslops framework useful, really. the only thing it urgently needs is some kind of event emitting & handling system. currently all the little special cases have to be implemented specifically. for example, there's a check in the "drop item" action for if the item in question is fragile. if it is, it breaks. if the item is also smoky, we get the "orange smoke pours out" effect. it'd be a lot cleaner (and make me a lot happier) if i could just say "when a smoky object breaks, emit orange smoke" and similar things.

thank you to everyone who read the simslops, and an extra thank you to everyone who asked me questions. now it's time to go back to work on the next issue. it's going to be a very different beast. i hope you enjoy it.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Our Throne of Ruin

Chapter One: Blood-Stained Hand of a Royal

Plus-size/Chubby afab! fem! Princess!Reader x Villain!Simon

Warnings and Disclaimers: Violence, Assault, and Attempted Sexual Assault?? (Not by Simon, it is disgusting and uncomfortable so please do not continue if you have a faint heart), Gore, Severed Body Parts, Decapitation.

Genres: Romance, x Reader Insert, Alternate Universe, Dark Fantasy, Fantasy AU, Royalty AU, Villain AU, Arranged Marriage, Dark Romance??

Throne Of Blood and Ruin Playlist <3

My CoD Masterlist and Series Masterlist <3

If you prefer to read it in Wattpad's format (Please leave comments) <3

A/n: A repost of this in hopes that the Tumblr algorithm is just fucking with me because I'm so heartbroken about the lack of interaction. Unfairly odd for you guys to ignore sum like this. I'm sorry to those expecting a new chapter. Whichever one does better will be included in the Masterlist. If this and the first one doesn't work then I'm quitting writing and Tumblr istg.

"My lady, these appear to be exceedingly valuable," Leticia, your young handmaiden, exclaimed breathlessly as she held up the ruby-encrusted silver earrings against your ears to see how they would look on you.

"I'm certain the lord who dispatched it desires a royal womb for their heirs," you said with a scoff, rolling your eyes, as you favored jewelry received as genuine gifts over bribes.

Leticia offered a simple smile, setting aside the jewelry she held into the untouched box, and instead, she searched for the ones you favored most… gold, diamonds, and pearls.

Earrings that match the pearls and gold details on the bodice of your dress perfectly, complemented by a crown crafted from the same materials as the jewels dangling from your ears.

Your senior handmaiden, Agatha, attempted to kneel and place your walking jewelry on your feet.

"Agatha! What are you doing?" you exclaimed, though the answer was clear to you. Before she could reply, you interjected, "No, please. I appreciate your willingness to serve, but don't kneel; it could injure you."

With a sigh, you stood from your vanity seat and helped her to her feet. She responded with a smile brimming with thankfulness.

"As kind and caring as ever, Your Highness," she said, lifting the small basin filled with rosewater to wash your hands, then gently wiping them with a white cloth dampened in the scented water.

The gods are aware that the woman has aged gracefully, yet there's concern she may injure herself with the relentless demanding tasks handmaidens endure. You slip on your shoes while Leticia unravels your hair from the curling cloths.

"What would you like done with your hair, my lady?"

"Pearls, Leticia…" you murmured, gazing into the mirror.

Once your handmaidens had finished preparing you, Leticia suggested a leisurely walk. She knew you might use this as the perfect opportunity to have an encounter with those vying for affection.

With a light melody on your lips, you wandered the castle's ramparts with an air of freedom.

You turn to a corner to find a man, only you could assume was a contender as well. Dressed in whatever garb their nation was to consider fashion, he had two knights along either side of him. The way he held himself, you could already tell. How arrogant.

You walked past him without much care to greet him, a test to see how he'd take rejection. He commands his knights to leave him be, striding next to you.

"I must admit I wasn't expecting to be graced with your presence so soon." He said you didn't respond verbally. Instead choosing to raise a brow at his statement, clearly not realizing that he's talking to you far too casually for your liking.

He scoffs, trying to wrap his arm around your shoulder to which you shrugged his hand off. "You reek of ale and brothels" you whispered to yourself as you subtly waved off the smell of his breath from your face.

You felt an almost cracking pain on your wrist as you were yanked back, your eyes widened, he had heard you.

You tried to free yourself but instead, he pulled the clasp and chain of your necklace, effectively choking you with the decorative metal against your skin. You pried your hands between it and your neck, desperately trying to claw his grip off.

The pain was unlike anything you had ever experienced, burning intensely. Your breaths were shallow and frantic. Tears welled up uncontrollably, spilling over.

It felt as though the muffled choking sounds were yours alone as your body convulsed. Your windpipe seemed to be caving under an unyielding grip, with every attempt to breathe met by an impenetrable barrier.

A wet, sloppy tongue dragged across your cheek, leaving a slimy trail that made your skin crawl. The unexpected touch was cold and clammy, like the lick of a serpent, and the stench of sour mixed with the pungent smell of fermented bitterness in his breath lingered in the air.

Your stomach churned with disgust as your body flinched away from his chest which he forcibly pressed against your back. Disgusting bastard, his chuckling fueled your nerves with more anger and fear.

"Pretty, defenseless little princess.." You attempted to protest, but it emerged as nothing more than a feeble whimper.

Someone, help me. Please...

You prayed for the air, for someone...

It wasn't until he was yanked away that you heard a thud, and you began to violently cough, the pressure on your throat finally easing. Collapsing to your knees, you groaned from the sudden pain, crawling away before turning to see what had transpired.

The man who just attempted to assault you on the ground and unconscious as an unrecognizable but broad figure retreated to the shadows out of the corner of your eye, just observing.

All your life, you've felt like s prey to the disgusting eyes of men older than your father, this wasn't new.

"My lady!" The scream of your handmaiden, Leticia, echoed as she rounded the corner in search of you. Panic etched her features, tears brimming at the sight of the redness on your neck.

You deemed it unwise to inform your king of the incident, especially since he was the one attempting to auction you off to a man who fancied himself a god among men.

You dusted your gown off as you instructed Leticia to ask for a tonic at the castle's apothecary, your throat nearly giving out at the soreness.

You had opted to seek solace at your place of worship before continuing through the not-so-exciting festivities your father arranged, despite your attempts to distract yourself, you cannot shake off the feeling of being watched.

Something waiting to pounce at you from within the shadows..

Prayer beads, it wasn't in your pockets.

You continue to pat around your body. "My lady, you seem troubled. Is something amiss?" Leticia asked, concern never leaving her tone since the events that transpired.

"My prayer beads, I must've misplaced or dropped them earlier," You mumbled.

"Oh.." was all she could respond, she knew how cherished that item was to you, being passed down from your mother.

"I'll make sure to find them later on, I swear that on my own mother," she lifted her palm, and a small smile broke from your lips at the promise.

You get up from your knees to set the candle you've lit down on the foot of the monument of the goddess of marriage and fertility, payers inclined to help you find a husband, unlike your father. Hoping your mother will also hear your prayers in the afterlife.

"Leticia, my shawl please" You sighed. She slipped the thin fabric over your exposed shoulders and replaced your colored veil with your earlier embellishments.

...

You composed yourself as well as possible, attempting to breathe steadily and keep your eyes open to avoid flashes of the experience from just a few hours before by picking the skin next to your nails.

Gripping your aching neck, you felt the imprints of the recent assault. As your gaze shifted to the entrance, the massive doors groaned, pushed open by the servants outside.

From the comfort of your cushioned throne, you surveyed the assembly, noting how the sound redirected their attention to the entrance, just as your eyes had done moments before.

The usual commotion and conversation that overlapped one another at such an event died out faster than poison could kill a rat, all sounds replaced by the clanking of metal... most can recognize the hollow sound of armor and the sharp end of a sword scratching the stone floor.

There a familiar broad man stood. You can't quite put your finger on it, but his face is like something out of your dreams, masked with a knight's great helm.

The silence was defending as he left the people speechless or much rather afraid to speak of anything, covered in blood and some flesh stood a stranger.

He made his way in, the crowds of nobles making a path for him as he did. The carpet beneath him somehow cushioning his heavily metal-cladded steps.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the stranger as he got closer, only now seeing what he had by his side while he hastily threw his great helm on the ground to pay his respect in court.

The severed head of the noble who tried to lay a hand on you, holding it by the fistful of hair as the blood from the neck stained the fur carpet below it.

You hear the king beside you as he chokes. He could not control his breathing, seeming to be on the verge of a heart attack.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! YOU INSOLENT BASTARD, YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" One of the nobles in the crowd screamed with much anger, must be his father or a figure of some sort.

The man attempts to lunge at the man in armor but is held back by three of the palace knights. Loud clanking as the lord hit the armored men over and over.

Oddly enough, you weren't terrified after the initial shock. The man that stood before you severed the head of the same man who tried to commit an unforgivable act on you, it was almost poetic in its own way... satisfying even.

He knelt before you instead of your father, much to your surprise. Gasps and murmurs emulated from the nobles and royals present, apart from the screaming guardian of the beheaded suitor.

He had no respect for the head he held as he threw it on the side, having it roll to the king's feet who had no words of offense as he was too shocked to utter anything but silent stuttering.

On one knee the man with blood-soaked presumably light hair remained, his head down, eyes still on the floor. You stood up from your throne, head held high as you walked towards the armored fellow.

The intricate precious metal encrusted with priceless jewels hung on your ears and swayed along with the ones in your hair. The train of your silk gown flows effortlessly behind you.

Your eyes on him at every step, he lifted his gaze from down below onto you, his hand shifting. Uncertain of what to anticipate, you watched as he extended his hand toward you, palm open, the callouses on his fingers beckoning you closer.

You care not for the blood that stained his hand and caked under his nails, so you hesitantly slipped your fingers in his, heart pounding out of your chest as the stranger bathed in blood grinned at seeing your hand in his.

He gripped your hand in the most gentle way you've ever had anyone touch you. He lightly tugged on your arm and let you naturally step closer with his guidance as he brought the back of your hand up to his lips.

You felt his dry yet warm lips on your knuckles, eyes up on you as he looked for approval. You blinked, and for a moment your eyes drifted to the severed head.. its own open but soulless before you reverted your gaze back to the man who has your hand.

With another kiss on your ring, he releases your hand. You gaze at it, noticing how the blood has stained it in an effortlessly abstract pattern.

Breathlessly staring at your hand, now tainted with the filthy blood of one of the bastards who hurt and wronged you. Staring back at you, presenting an opportunity on a silver platter, all just for you...

Series Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @duck-a-doodle @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @drewsmusee @sommii @sleep101 @blueladys-world @myspaceisra @bumblebeesfromvenus @penumbrie @nicolebarnes

[hellfiresky]

Where the city glows at night

Pairing: Clone Commando Sev (RC-1207) x F!Reader

Word count: 4040

Summary: You hadn’t done a one-night stand with someone off a dating app in a while, but you let Sev, a Republic Commando, ruin you anyway. Well, the city was glowing and loneliness was one hell of a drug.

Warning: Smut. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. One night stand. Long paragraphs. Slice of life and stream of consciousness. Also like my other fics, bits and pieces of existential crisis lol.

Taglist: @orangez3st - go to my pinned post if you want to be tagged in future posts/fics.

—————————

Just like any other city-planet, meeting people on Coruscant usually meant dating apps. Swiping through faces in the middle of a war felt ridiculous, but hey, so did everything else these days. And thanks to a disturbing combination of high clone population density and terrible algorithm, at least 70% of your feed was clone troopers.

You didn’t mind, though. They were all gorgeous. Most of them were polite. Some were funny. A few of them were very hot. And then there was the commando. You had no idea what made them different until you saw his profile, a classic clone trooper thirst trap: top half in black undersuit, bottom half armoured. The man looked broader than the average Coruscant Guard trooper you passed on the upper levels, and somehow looked even meaner with the helmet off.

You matched on a Taungsday. Talked for a few hours. And by Benduday night, you were meeting in person.

He didn’t pick 79’s, thank fuck for that. It was always a bit too loud and too military for you. And, it was too likely for you to run into an ex-fuckbuddy who worked at the GAR who’d ruin the mood.

Instead, he said Qibbu’s Hut in the Entertainment District. The hotel slash bar was shadier, sure. But it was still cheap, had a good selection of drinks, and some decent private booths. You got it. Clone credits didn’t go far, and hookup dates weren’t supposed to scream luxury. So there you were with a classic Kali Cooler in hand, elbow glued on the sticky table surface, watching the man across from you size up a Twi’lek server like he might know her personally.

He introduced himself earlier, Sev. Short for “Seven,” which you guessed was some sort of callsign or designation. You didn’t ask. You weren’t here for backstories. You sipped your drink and propped your chin on your palm to force eye contact. “So?”

Looking back from the server, he raised his eyebrows, and matched your energy. “So…” he echoed.

It wasn’t awkward. Just… that particular flavour of low-stakes first date where both of you already knew how this was going to end. Not that you didn’t like each other. You just didn’t have time for pretending it was something it wasn’t. It was Coruscant, after all. You had your life, job, rent, the whole big city routine. He had war.

“Tell me about yourself,” you chewed on the blue flimsi straw. It was such a default question - a staple for a one-night stand or a long-term partner. Small talk to make the room feel a little less like a transaction.

In front of you, the crimson-white armoured trooper hummed. “I’m a sniper. In an elite unit called the Delta Squad. There’s four of us. I have three pod brothers.”

He stretched his long legs and let out what seemed like the most relaxed sigh in his day. “That’s like actual siblings, in… randomly-ejected-individual terms.”

“Randomly-ejected what?”

He tilted his head. “You know. People who weren’t decanted from the same genetic batch. Civilians.”

You laughed. “You mean people who were born?”

“Right,” he nodded. “Those.”

“So you’ve done this…”

“Often,” Sev said, finishing the last of his drink in one swallow. “Gah, please tell me you’re not one of those people who think all clones are virgins.”

You nearly choked on your straw. “Shu-shaaah, no.”

It was an actual belief, surprisingly common among people who’d never stepped foot in 79’s, never swiped through a dating app on Coruscant, never seen what clones looked like off-duty. Some thought of them as sterile, clinical government-issued products. Property of the Republic. Others exoticised the hell out of them, like they were some collectible fuck-doll line instead of actual men. You knew the type. The people that went to 79’s for their “flavour of the month.”

“I actually hooked up with a Corrie once,” you offered.

“Aha. So I’m a checklist.”

You rolled your eyes. “No. I’m not-”

“I’m joking,” he interjected, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t give a fuck.”

And fuck, there they were again - those dimples, catching you off guard. You could already picture them disappearing somewhere below your waistline and in between your —

Nope. Absolutely not. Not now, at least. Brain, shut up.

But it was too late. The image was there now, imprinted on the foreground of your mind. Sev on his knees, those calloused hands gripping your thighs, that mouth working you up like a man starved. And you bet he’d be quiet while doing it. Judging from how you were doing most of the talking here at Qibbu’s, it tracked. Or, or worse, maybe he wouldn’t be quiet. Maybe he’d talk you through it in that low and gravelly voice, “Still responsive. Still with me. Good.”

Fuck. That didn’t make it any better. You crossed your legs tighter. Maker, you hated that turned you on so much.

“Hey.” He snapped his fingers in front of your face.

Shit. You did not just zone out

“I asked,” he chuckled, “your place or my quarters? The boys are out tonight. Or… I know Qibbu’s owner. I can probably talk my way into one of the cheaper rooms. There’s one on the third floor with—“

“My apartment,” you said quickly. “Mhm. Definitely.”

“Copy that.”

There was a moment of quiet filled in the tight space between you. Around you, the noise of the bar kept going - glasses clinking, bartenders yelling orders, electronic music blaring, someone laughing too loud from the circular booth behind you - but for that little moment, it all felt far away. You’d both just stepped into a pocket of stillness in the middle of a planet that never shuts up.

From his half-lidded gaze, you could tell he’d internally confirmed it too - that this wasn’t going to be more than one night. But for you, that didn’t mean it was meaningless. You were two people with too much noise in your lives, craving a quiet you could touch. You weren’t deluding yourself into thinking it’d be more. You weren’t even trying to make it tender. You simply craved the way city nights carve into you with its brutally cold lights, warm skin, and a stranger in your bed.

You’d probably never see him again. Or maybe you would. It didn’t matter, especially in times like these - where every day ran on borrowed hours. The same could be said for that lovely Jedi with the dreadlocks and a golden facial tattoo you’d spent the night with many moons ago, or the Coruscant Guard officer, or really anyone who wasn’t completely buried in the war machine. People were just trying to survive, and hold on to something that made them feel like themselves for five fucking minutes.

“So,” Sev asked as you slid off your barstool to grab your jacket, “you live alone?”

“Hm?” you stalled, reaching back to the table to finish the last watery sip of your drink. “Yeah,” you said finally. “Me and a pet.”

He tilted his head. “Tooka?”

“Nah,” you smirked. “Just the dog in me.”

There was a second of silence before he dropped his gaze. Sev’s lips gave way to a ghost of a smile.

“Terrible,” he shook his head. “That was terrible.”

“You laughed,” you bit back.

“I coughed. Drink was spicy.” He actually laughed this time.

You looped your arm through his as you stepped out of the bar, letting the warm buzz of your drink mix with the city air. “You’re a tough crowd.”

Everything around you was lit in a thousand colours, Coruscant never slept after all. His face, scarred around his left cheek, was briefly washed in hot pink and cyan as a massive advertisement pulsed across the building across the street. It would take a while to get to your place. A hovertrain ride, twenty minutes, twelve stops. Then another ten-minute walk through the neighbourhood. And you were prepared to fill that time with trying your best to avoid war-related conversations - until his arm slung around your shoulders and dragged you closer.

Okay. Hot was a bit of an understatement.

You could feel the shape of him. His grip was tight, and controlled. An idea about being pinned immediately brewed in your head.

“How long will this train take?” his breath was hot in your ear.

“Uh—around twelve stops.”

“Damn.”

And then he crowded you. Body flush to yours, one hand braced against the window of the hovertrain. You had no time to gasp before he leaned in and kissed you.

The kiss, like all hook up kisses, was sudden and messy - with a little too much teeth.

But fuck, you loved it nonetheless.

The train rocked as it accelerated, city lights flashing past the windows like falling stars. His mouth was on yours, hungry in a way that showed he hadn’t done this in a while. You were vaguely aware that the car was empty, Benduday night, past 23:30, contra flow. Not many people left the entertainment district this late unless they were working, or hunting, or fucking. But would you care if there were people in the car? You probably wouldn’t.

You kissed him back, hungrier. His hand stayed where it was, caging you in. The other gripped your head to keep himself - or maybe both of you - grounded. The train screeched on a turn, and you used it as an excuse to lean into him harder.

“You’re a menace,” you whispered when you pulled back for air.

“You want me to stop?”

“Mmm no. But maybe to wait?”

He kissed you again anyway.

Next thing you knew, your back hit the bed, Sev’s weight settling over you - heavy, warm, and solid like his armour. His hands moved over your body as if your body was a battlefield and he’d been trained to navigate every inch of it blindfolded.

You expected silence. Maybe a growl. Definitely something primal. Because that’s what they were, right? That’s what you heard. One of your girlfriends once bragged about hooking up with a commando and wouldn’t shut up about how rough and broody he was. The way she described it over drinks felt like you were being forced to listen to live commentary on a fucknasty holofilm - like The Senate Aide, that raunchy underground hit about the Zeltron assistant who became her boss’ submissive. You were both impressed and kind of wanted her to shut the hell up. Listening to your friends’ sex life in surround sound was never as fun as how Sex and the Ecumenopolis portrayed it on screen.

So no, you didn’t expect him to murmur, “I read a manual for this.”

You had no idea what to say to that. “I—sorry, what?”

He was hovering over you, eyes trained on your mouth, waiting for it to do something again. “There was this weird intimacy training manual back on Kamino. I skimmed it. Some of it stuck.”

“You skimmed—”

“Most of it was terrible,” he added quickly. “Outdated. Weirdly mechanical. But the anatomical diagrams were... useful. I didn’t know why I said it. I’ve done this many times before. Just popped up in my head,”

His kiss swallowed the laugh that was about to come out of your mouth. Then, the sniper started slowly kissing his way down. Past your jaw. Your neck. You felt the slight scrape of stubble and let your head fall back into the pillow. “Adjusting course,” he murmured.

His hands ghosted along your sides, pausing at the hem of your shirt and glanced up as if he might ask permission again, but instead he knitted his brows and said, “You know,” he swallowed, tone turned deadly serious, “Scorch once hooked up with a Zeltron during a mission on Zeltros. Said she made him go for at least five rounds.”

“…Okay?”

“He wasn’t functional the next day. Total systems failure. Just laid in the nest like a broken droid. Good thing it was a surveillance op.”

You stared, on your way to yet another breathless laughter. “Is this foreplay?”

“No. This is a warning.”

He leaned down and kissed your sternum.

“If I fall apart tomorrow, it’s your fault.”

You bit your lip. “So I’m the Zeltron in this situation?”

“You’re worse,” he muttered. “You flirted terribly and made me laugh.”

“Mm did I win something?” You teased, laughing. Which turned into a moan as his mouth moved lower, trailing down your stomach while his fingers hooked under the waistband of your trousers. He kissed just above your hip, breath warm against your skin, a set of brown eyes psychologically undressing you through those lashes.

“I have a week-old protein bar somewhere in my armour over there,” he jerked his thumb toward the pile of gear dumped near your bedroom door.

“…What?”

“I’d offer it as a prize. It’s chocolate flavoured.”

“Sev.”

“What?” Teeth grazing your hip. “You said you wanted something memorable.”

You threw your head back against the pillow and laughed. Truly, helplessly laughed until the sound melted into a gasp because he started peeling your trousers inch by inch, kissing every new patch of skin. And when he finally settled between your thighs, he looked up to you again and added, “Besides. I’d rather eat you.”

And just like that - goodbye, sanity.

You barely registered the sound of your trousers hitting the floor. Too focused on the warmth of his mouth around your core. He kissed the inside of your thigh, and mapped you with the same care he probably gave to his well-maintained Deecee. And the first deliberate stroke across your cunt had you arching up with a broken gasp.

“There it is,” he quietly murmured - more to himself than to you. “Responsive.”

Wrapping his hands under your thighs, Sev steadied your reactive body. With each pass of his tongue, you felt your grip on the moment slip further. He moved like he had no war to go back to. No brothers waiting. Just this bed. This night. You.

For a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe in a kinder galaxy, this wasn’t a one-night thing. Maybe in that parallel universe, he’d come home to you. But Coruscant did not leave room for fantasies. There were only flunking wartime economy, tired mornings, and lovers who didn’t text back. So, of course, you quickly sweeped the fantasy out of your headspace.

Down there, you could feel your fingers involuntarily tightened around a fistful of his overgrown curls as he sucked on your clit, and the moan that left your throat felt ripped from somewhere deeper than lust. A quieter, lonelier place.

“Good?” Sev took his time to ask.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “So fucking good.”

The clone commando nodded, dipping his head back down without another word. Leaving the room with nothing but the sweet sound of your moans and the distant buzz of the ecumenopolis outside the window. Oh, and the wet sound of his mouth, generously devoted to you.

As if it wasn’t good enough, his thick digits joined in. One. And then two. Careful, steady, slow. Slipping in deep and curling just right, just fucking right, and you weren’t prepared for how much it would undo you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered - not realising how wrecked you already sounded. “Sev—”

“Still good?” he asked again, you swore you could hear him grinning against your pussy.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

A smug little chuckle burst out of him before he returned to what he was doing. He continued working you up faster, gradually building the eventual explosion inside you. You could feel it coming in your belly, and then slowly rolled out in waves, swelling and sweet and all-consuming. Your back arched, your mouth opened - though no sound came out of it. Nothing but a silent gasp where your brain short-circuited under his touch.

And then, maker help you, you laughed and moaned at the same time. Not because it was funny. But because it felt that good. That someone had touched you like that, and it was him, of all people. A late night - almost drunken decision - you swiped just a few days ago. It must’ve been a while since you let yourself go like this.

The stress. The suffocating anxiety. The grind of surviving on a city-planet that never slept, in the middle of a galaxy-wide war that was slowly eating people alive - you hadn’t even realised how tightly you’d been holding on until he unraveled you.

Sev pulled back to look at you. His beautiful face, the one he shared with millions of other men but somehow still uniquely his - flushed and glistening with your cum, resting between your thighs. “You laughed,”

“That was. Fuck. That was not funny,” you breathed, trying to adjust your vision back into focus.

“You did laugh.”

“I didn’t know I could come that hard,” you flustered. “Shut up.”

He rested his chin on your thigh, expression unreadable except for the tiniest pull at the corner of his mouth. Those fucking dimples again.

“SITREP,” he said. “Subject responsive. Outcome: extremely effective. Reaction: uncontrolled laughter. Will continue for further analysis.”

You groaned and chucked a pillow at his face. Sev caught it one-handed, and threw it back behind him. Something clattered on the floor - probably one of those cheap plastic decor you’d impulsively bought just to feel something. You’d never even bothered to untag them.

Oh-Seven climbed back up and kissed you hard. As if he hadn’t just had his mouth on your cunt. As if the past ten minutes hadn’t ended with your orgasm hitting so hard you laughed.

You could feel how hard he was through his blacks, how tightly he held himself together, savouring the moment before he lost control.

“You still with me?” He rasped.

“Fuck yes.”

“Good. I need you to actually stay with me this time.”

And that was the moment everything changed. His earlier playfulness, that chaotic warmth, folded and replaced by a rough intensity. He stripped the rest of his blacks off, and stars, you barely had time to process before his cock sprang free, thick and flushed and fuck. Yeah. That tracked.

This man was solid muscle, scarred and freckled, in a way that was not delicate. Sev was designed to be a weapon for maximum damage. And right now, all that force was for you.

You reached for him, but he caught your wrist and pinned it above your head. “Let me,” he commanded.

Sev stretched you open in one slow thrust - deep enough to knock the air out of your lungs. You tried to hold yourself back, planted yourself in your bed, and he held you there to adjust, forehead pressed against yours. Not moving, not speaking, just feeling it with you.

“Shit. Sev!”

“I know,” he whispered.

Only after you nodded did he begin to move. He started slowly, taking his time to feel your warmth, before it gradually turned deeper and relentless. Every thrust of his hips dragged a moan from you. Every grind sent heat down your spine. He was watching you the whole time, not looking away for one bit.

You tried to close your eyes or even look away from his intense gaze, but he cupped your face.

“Eyes on me.”

You managed to refocus your sight.

“Good. Stay with me. I want to see you.”

And fuck, he did. Sev saw everything. From the way your body shuddered underneath him, the way your walls clenched around him with every deep, brutal thrust. The way your mouth parted before you begged - faster, harder, don’t stop. The way your sweet moans unraveled into messy whimpers and feral cries the deeper he fucked you.

Sev didn’t look away. Not once. Not even when your legs coiled around his waist and your nails marked a long line down his back.

He leaned down and devoured your mouth through it all - swallowing your cries, your shaky breath, your everything - like he needed it to stay sane.

Because he did. Because this was his, too.

He didn’t just want to make you come or make himself come. He wanted to fuck you so hard the shared loneliness between you didn’t stand a chance.

And gods, you could feel it in the way his thrusts started to falter into an uncontrollable rhythm. He was right at the edge, and so were you. You felt your entire body tightening, shaking, bracing for the fall. To unravel together.

You knew this would be the kind of orgasm you’d come back to later. Maybe in the shower. In the dark. Whenever the city got too loud or the silence got too suffocating. You were filing it away, storing the memory in that little corner in your mind where it could stay warm.

Sev buried his face in your neck and groaned your name repeatedly like a prayer. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, holding him through it, legs trembling as his heartbeat pounded against yours - and you both came hard. A quiet, yet planet-shattering orgasm.

Before you knew it, Sev dropped his full weight on top of you as if you were the only safe place left in that wide galaxy. Neither of you said anything. You let the silence grow, filled only by the distant wail of a CSF siren a few blocks away. The loud tooka next door started meowing again. Somewhere down below, the 24/5 noodle bar buzzed with life - the sound of metal chairs scraping, speeder doors slamming, someone yelling over delivery mix-ups. The usual noise of Coruscant after midnight.

The city glowed outside your window, bathing your tangled naked bodies in the faintest cerulean light. Letting the moment suspend, you shut your eyes.

“You took it well,” Sev said eventually as he settled beside you. He reached over to brush back your sweaty hair and tucked it behind your ear. “You deserve that week-old chocolate protein bar.”

“Ew.” You giggled, still feeling the warm leak of him between your thighs. “We even forgot to use protection.”

“Shiiiiiit,” he burried his face into your hair for a second before kissing your forehead. “I got tested recently though. Clean. And I requested… you know. The GAR clearance.”

You raised an eyebrow. “The clearance?”

He nodded. “Yeah. No risk of anything… sticking.”

“I’ve got an implant too. Don’t worry.” You laughed.

“Hmm.” Sev hummed, hand gently tracing down your back like he was still trying to memorise the shape of you.

“I’ll get you water.”

————————

The last thing you remembered from that night was both of you eating cup noodles. You, only in your knickers, wrapped in a blanket. Him, still shirtless, stabbing through the seasoning packet and aggressively sprinkled the content into the cup.

He told you about that time he ran a mission on a ghost ship and almost died. Told you about Scorch, the clown of the squad. About Boss, their sergeant, apparently the one who cussed the most. And Fixer, the quiet one, the slicer, the nerd, the one who called Sev “unhinged” every five seconds.

Somewhere along the way, your vision went dark. You remembered mentally telling yourself that he’d be gone by morning. And it was fine. It was always supposed to be that way. That’s how this city worked. One night. One warmth. One lover gone before the sun.

But then you woke up to a death grip around your waist and a snore. Turning your body slowly, you squinted against the harsh Coruscant sunlight peeking through your blinds.

Sev was still there.

He was still wrapped around you. Barely moving. You thought about waking him. About doing the usual morning-after ritual - a kiss. A joke. A breakfast offer. A “call me later” even when you both knew it probably wouldn’t happen. A clean-up. A goodbye.

But you didn’t. You smiled to yourself instead, and snuggled deeper into his chest. Just for a little while longer.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

I'm starting a writing blog, but none of my posts are showing up in the tags. Do you have any suggestions for why this may be or what I might be doing wrong? Or any resources on using tumblr to start a writing blog? I appreciate your time, and you blog is wonderful! Thank you.

Tumblr doesn't have an algorithm (thank fuck), but you may be not be using the best tags (#writblr is a good place to start) - or you may be viewing them incorrectly. Tumblr sorts tags between Top and Latest, and you may not be looking at the right one. Also remember that only certain number of tags get picked up by the Tumblr Search, so you want to use the most coming tags first - #writblr, #writing, #writing advice, etc.

As for how to get your writing blog up and running, writingquestionsanswered already has a great post on this. Check it out!

[thebibliosphere]

I saw your post about ingram, and out of curiosity, is there some advantage to going through the whole self-publishing thing with retailers when you're just starting out? like I mean the way that fandom zines work is that they don't even bother going through ingram or amazon or whatever. they just set up a social media site (usually twitter) to gain followers, open preorders (usually 1-2 months in length) to generate the costs of printing upfront, and then sell anywhere from a few dozen to several hundred copies of their books (usually artbooks, but anthologies exist too). I've seen some zines generate over a thousand orders. they're kind of like pop-up shops, except for books. maybe the sales numbers aren't so impressive to a real author, but the profit generated is typically waaaay more than the $75+ apparently needed for Ingram Spark, so I still feel like new authors could benefit from this method too, especially if they just need some start-up cash to eventually move to ingram if they want to for subsequent runs of their book. I think authors would also have to set aside some of the pre-order money to buy an ISBN number to have printed on their book, and I'm not really sure what other differences there are, but I just wanted to ask about it in case there's some huge disadvantage I'm missing!

So, popup zines work well for some people, and I know some authors who kickstart their work successfully. But for a lot, it's just not feasible as a long-term stratedy. Or even as a means to get off the ground.

Fanzines succeed primarily because an existing fanbase is willing and ready to throw money at something they love. They’ve got a favorite writer or artist they want to support. Supporting all the others is just a happy by-product. They also take a HUGE amount of short-term but intense planning that just doesn’t always jive with how some of us work.

I, for one, would never offer to organize a fanzine. I’ll take part in them as a creator, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than subject myself to wrangling that many people and dealing with the legal logistics.

When it comes to authors doing anthologies, it'svery much the same. The success of the funding often hinges on having other big-name authors involved whose existing fans will prop up the project. Or having a huge marketing budget.

Most self-pub authors have zero marketing budget. I’m one of them, and I’m under no illusions that my work would not be as popular and self-sustaining as it is if I didn’t have a large Tumblr blog.

When I thank Tumblr in my forewards, I am utterly sincere. Tumblr brought fandom levels of enthusiasm to an unknown work and broke the Amazon algorithm so hard, that Amazon thought I was bot sniping my way to multiple #1 spots and froze my sales rankings.

That’s not the norm. And while I could probably kickstart my own work as an indie creator, that’s because I’ve put literal decades into building up a readership. I’ve been doing this since I was 16 and realized people thought I was funny. I didn’t know what to do with it or if I’d ever actually write anything, but it meant the groundwork was already there (thank you, past-me). I basically fell upward into my success by virtue of never being able to shut the fuck up and wanting to make people laugh. Clown instincts too strong.

New or first-time authors trying to sell their work without that will find it infinitely harder.

All of that aside, even if an unknown author somehow gets lucky and manages to fund their work, there’s still the question of shipping and distribution logistics. Are you shipping everything yourself? Better hope you’re able-bodied and have the time for it. (for reference, it took me months to ship out 300 patreon hardbacks because of my disabilites. It damaged my back and hands. I couldn’t type for several weeks after I was done.)

Are you going to sell primarily at conventions? Better hope you’re able-bodied, have the time and don’t have cripling anxiety about being in large groups...

Also, will selling a dozen to a few thousand copies in one burst be sustainable in the long run as a career? Not for me. Doing things via Ingram and Amazon means I earn a steady trickle of sales for the rest of my life provided the platforms remain and so long as I keep working and can generate interest in the series, not just when I have funds to pay for physical copies to sell. The one-time (in theory) cost of $75 to distribute through Ingram gets paid off pretty quick that way. And it doesn't require the same logistics as doing the popup/crowdfund.

Ultimately, it comes down to what you are capable of but also the type of work you’re doing. If you’ve got an extended network of fellow creatives who will back you or you’ve got a large following elsewhere, doing it like a popup might work for you.

If you’re an exhausted burnout who can’t fathom the short but intense amount of organization that sort of thing requires, not to mention doing it over and over and over... Ehhhhh. No thank you.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

hi! sorry if you've answered this already, i tried to search your blog and didn't find much, but we all know the tumblr search function is...uh...but i'd be deeply curious to hear your thoughts about Stephenie Meyer's "The Host," specifically re: treatment of the issue of souls' colonization and possession of other species...and obviously, since i'm asking you, an animorphs blog, this, my curiosity is definitely coming from a place of comparison to animorphs, but that doesn't have to be your focus!

from the posts tumblr's search algorithm did grant me, i gather you see it as wanda unlearning the colonizer's propaganda stance she takes at the start of the story, which i agree with!

but i guess every time i read it, i really can't help but feel...unsatisfied? with the way it actually engages with the horrors and colonization of it all?

sort of like, okay, The Host is this one very individual YA romance story in a sci-fi setting, which is obviously different from a heavily-Star-Trek-inspired middle-grade series about guerrilla warfare and is going to grapple with these issues differently...but still! i don't leave feeling satisfied with how it engages with consent of "host" bodies the souls are in, and i don't feel satisfied with how it engages with the souls' systemic behavior!!! but i can't really put my finger on why, and i just...was curious, i guess, whether this was something you had thoughts about.

(full disclosure: i'm asking you specifically because one of my HUGE points of existential dread on my first adulthood reread of The Host was how Jodi never wakes up, and her boyfriend just starts implied-dating the soul who's in her body? or how kids who are infested from birth are just...gone, and they were like "well sweet we can just put Wanda in there, this is a perfect solution!" and that I think hit me so hard in comparison with having read Eleutherophobia--which is, by the way, a masterwork of fanfiction that wrecked me, overwrote canon a little bit in my brain, and I think fundamentally changed how I see the possibilities of writing and narration, so, you know. thank you for that!)

(also like, i know there's different worldbuilding where it's implied most hosts just...go away...but do they actually? because Mel and the Seeker's host are still there, which kind of implies to me that it's more of a problem than the souls want to admit?! and even outside humans, all the memories, and compulsions toward certain behaviors are still there! what makes a person in this universe of Meyer's?! it's kind of fundamentally horrifying?!)

apologies for this extremely long ask, haha, and i hope you're doing well, love your blog, your writing, and all your thoughts!

Oh my god, ALL OF THIS. I thoroughly enjoy the first 98% of The Host. It's a romance novel about consent! Where the characters have to struggle to resolve the plot in a way that gets the permission of everyone in the love quadrangle to boink everyone else, and spends over 500 pages doing exactly that! It's anti-imperialist as fuck! It's got an amazing supporting cast, like every Stephenie Meyer novel! The imagery is unparalleled in its richness and coolness, because Stephenie Meyer! I've written fan fiction about it! I have an extremely normal relationship with Kyle O'Shea!

And then Sunny. And then Wanda's unnamed second human host.

I think that Meyer, either because of romance genre conventions or pressure from publishers, felt she had to write a happy ending. But the book does such a good job of setting up an unresolvable moral dilemma — either Wanda gets to be with Ian, or she does the right thing by giving Melanie's body back — that there is no path to a happy ending. If Ian did as Wanda asked and sent her in a jar to some other planet, romance fans would feel cheated. If Doc did as Melanie asked and let Wanda stay in her body, then the book's anticolonial message would be for nothing.

But resolving it through PARASITING A KID IN A VEGETATIVE STATE? What if Doc makes Wanda a nice robot body? What if Wanda stays in a jar, but Ian finds a way to join her in the jar? What if she and Melanie set up a time share? Uuuuuugggggghhhhh. The Host was THIS CLOSE to being the best anticolonial novel ever written, and then falls on its face inches from the finish line.

Which, aside, is the reason I don't think Animorphs would ever work with a happy ending. "Happy" for the protagonists would never be morally okay in the bigger story.

[glitter-stained]

Hear me out because I have a vision:

Barbara- centric hacker movie. (Barbara-centric, not Birds of Prey for this one.) Like not a dc adaptation, a hacker movie that's an AU. Fair warning: I understand nothing about how hacking works.

Barbara is a thirty-five years old bisexual overqualified librarian. Every time someone asks her why she works in a library and if she's never bored she replies she likes the quiet and the books, but we see, on her work computer, that she's always reading like one science article one philosophy book and news article etc at the same time to stay stimulated; she also has several degrees and on screen we see notes of her working on p=np because it'd be funny. On a date, we see her hint that she likes that the library is calm because she gets excitement from her nightlife.

The nightlife in question: Her hacker name is of course Oracle. At first, she learnt how to code because she was bored, and then she got invested in the secrets she could unravel, but her real entry into cyber activity happened after she hunted down the identity of the man responsible for the stray bullet that paralyzed her during a shootout and framed him for tax evasion. This isn't like, the heart of the story or anything, just a little flashback to explain her motivation and how hacking helped her regain her self-confidence and grow around it. That part was cut in the final version of the movie because it was very very long but Barbara's actress and those who have seen the director's cut agree it's an important context for her characterization.

The movie is about her uncovering a fucked up ploy by the government to cover up an industrial catastrophe that's already killed hundreds, and continuing to poison people because they're burying the proof so that the industry can carry on for profit. It becomes even more complicated when she finds out not only is this a corrupted government officials issue, but the cia is involved because of the potential interest of whatever chemical is being produced in this factory as a weapon, so it's one woman against the giants of this world.

Thankfully, Barbara isn't truly alone in everything. She has or builds close relationships through the movie, such as:

-Dinah: her old highschool friend with whom she had lost contact, but Dinah doesn't know that at first: she's down on her luck (lost all her money+ scum boyfriend after scum boyfriend, etc.) and Oracle calls her and offers a sketchy job. (She cuts into the funds of some billionaire to do this, highjacking the dumb algorithm he made for tax evasion.) She calls Barbara her conscience and Jiminy (her own conscience is perfectly efficient and still she says that). Barbara is always calling her on an old kind of phone because she doesn't like technology. Barbara calls her "My hands, my eyes, my heart". Around the last third to fourth of the movie, at the start of the build-up to climax, we have the famous "Barbara...call me Barbara moment", except after that the scene continues and they fuck, like you don't see everything but it's not fade to black either, Dinah's mouth on her neck, hands untying clothes, fingers trailing across the other's skin drenched in water from the pool, the classic cliche fingers intertwining, dramatic music, and then we can fade to black.

-Dick: a 25 years old bartender with an inability to keep the same job for more than a couple of months who is haunted by the death of his parents in a circus accident when he was a kid. They start to date because she's investigating his parents' involvement in her case (they were killed to stifle down whistleblowing), I don't want them to kiss in the movie just they're clearly starting dating and then he wakes up alone in her bed and thanks to some adequate plot excuse Dick finds the file about his parents and falls to his knees. I want a scene where he's kneeling at her feet, devastated (idk if crying or not, director's choice) and she's trailing her fingers in his hair and asks him if he wants to help her get him his revenge and he looks at her with so much grief and devotion and says he'll do anything. After that moment they don't really break-up (esp since they weren't officially together) but their relationship has shifted, there's a form of affection/care/devotion but it's less romantic than the cute dating from the beginning (but no less weirder or intense). The music for them is not when she brings him back to her apartment but when he's kneeling at her lap because that's where the climax is.

> I'm not sure who more to include but I'm considering versions of Cassandra Cain, Helena Bertellini or Selina Kyle. Keep in mind that these are civilians in a hacker movie, more than having meta abilities or insane hero skills they need to be smart, brave, motivated af with a bone to pick, trusting in Oracle and generally normal people (though a reasonable measure of Selina's b&e skills certainly wouldn't hurt.)

> They find help in allies amidst doctors/scientists trying to study the apparent epidemic (but the research is being pushed down), maybe Talia al Ghul and Barry Allen?

> In any case I want Barbara to be badass and flawed in a way that's like kinda a bit morally grey, but it's not in a "everyone's a bit of a villain here"; there's a scene in the movie where Oracle is blackmailing a corrupt guy into double-crossing the cia for her and he's like 'you think you're so much better than me" and Oracle is like "oh, it's terribly easy to be better than you, I don't even have to be good."

Anyway the scandal is released and there are protests and justice stuff and they win. I'm not sure how the story ends for Barbara, maybe the last shot is her at the library working on her equations as if nothing had happened but with a tiny floating little smile, maybe she disappears mysteriously from everyone's life leaving a shadow and they're all wondering what she's up to now and why she left (leaving ground for a potential sequel that might never live up to the original) Dick is reflecting about how she changed his life forever and the last shot is Dinah thinking about the way she's missing the part of her soul that was whispering in her ears, etc.

The movie gets released in the theatres etc for a little less than one week before it's cancelled and forbidden forever because of some concerning similarities between the plot and some existent factories that somehow made it to the big screen without anyone noticing, however the movie is already circulating, it's all over the internet, grainy footage from the theatre, leaked bits from the director's cut (not the final cut remember), alleged snippets from the original script appearing on forums, etc. It's too late.

Idk, just- Barbara centric hacker movie. "Any similarities to real life circumstances is purely accidental" type of stuff.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Hi there 🙏 thanks for answer me, you can take your time 😊 I am such a fan of some of your fanfics so I know you can write something for me.

I wasn't really feel comfortable with my body like the usually, so I would really love something about Benny comforting reader about her body issues, something like soft but also smutty.. all the smut you can bring to the table (I read your work so I trust you can do it 😂❤️) it can start softly and then go to the dirty smut... That's all I ask for 🙏.

Take your time of course I'll wait excited ☺️

I'm Really Into You - Part 3

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader "Poppy"

Word Count: 1900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Hi Nonnie! I'm so sorry to make you wait! I hope it's ok, but your ask reminded me of another ask I had received years ago that had 2 parts. So I made this a part 3! I'll have parts 1 and 2 linked below in case you haven't read them. Thank you so much for waiting!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

I’m Really Into You Part 1

I’m Really Into You Part 2

I hate our bi-annual meetings at work. They’re supposed to be “fun team morale building”, but all they do is make me feel like shit. Because, inevitably, someone is going to comment on my weight. “You’ve lost weight!” or “Oh, you look the same!”. I once had someone tell me I looked like I had gained weight. People tend to not have filters when you’re not a size 2. I hit Benny’s speed dial on my phone and he picks up after the second ring.

“Hey sweetheart! You on your way over?” I sigh. “Hey, you ok?”

He always seems to know. “Yeah.”

“Poppy?”

I pause a moment. “Just…people at work suck.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No…yes? I don’t know. Maybe I should just go to my place tonight and we can do dinner tomorrow.”

There’s a pause. “If that’s what you want, sure. But I really want you to come over. I miss you.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “You just saw me yesterday.”

He lets out an overly dramatic whine. “That was forever ago!”

I can’t help but chuckle, picturing his beautiful face and bright blue eyes with a dramatic pout on his lips. “Ok, ok. I’m coming.”

“Yeah you will.”

“Benny!”

“What? I’m psychic too! I can see your future!”

15 minutes later, I pull into his driveway. I glance in the mirror, patting down my hair a little before saying “Fuck it” and just grabbing my bag and walking to the front door. I barely raise my fist to knock before he opens the door, immediately cupping my face and kissing me. It takes me a second but finally I respond, leaning into his kiss as best I can with my bag in one hand and my travel cup in the other.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Benny pulls back just enough to look at me, his large hands still cupping my face. 

“Hi Benny.”

He drops my face and takes my bag, letting me enter and take off my shoes while he closes and locks the door. He hangs my bag on a hook and I follow him over to the couch, where he has a drink and some snacks already sitting out. I sit and look at the snacks, tears welling in my eyes.

“Hey hey! No, I didn’t get the chips you hate, I promise!”

I smile sadly, the tears starting to fall as I desperately try to choke them back, wiping at my face with my sleeve. “N-no, you’re perfect.”

He places his hand on my leg. “Then what is it? Was it work?” When I don’t answer, a flash of anger crosses his face. “Those fuckers.”

I let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, they mean well. I think? It’s just…nevermind.”

Benny squeezes my leg. “You can tell me anything, Poppy.”

I take a deep breath. I promised myself I would be open with Benny, especially after he bared himself to me, telling me all about his ptsd and his nightmares, his insecurities, all of it. 

“At these big team meetings we have twice a year, I see people I don’t normally see. There’s the usual small talk, but someone almost always talks about my weight. Whether I look like I’ve lost a few pounds, look the same, or even gained weight. Once I had lost about 10 pounds and someone asked if I had gained.” I bury my face in my hands, the tears flowing out. “I’m used to the comments but they still hurt,” my voice is muffled but he hears me. 

Gently, Benny grips my forearms, pulling them away from my face before he cups it, waiting for my eyes to find his. “Fuck them, Poppy. You’re gorgeous.”

That sad smile crosses my face again. “You have to say that since you’re my boyfriend. For some reason.” I didn’t mean to say that last part out loud, but I did. 

“What?” Benny said in disbelief.

“It’s just you’re so-” I gesture at him. “-hot. And I’m just-” I gesture at myself. “-me.”

“Poppy, I have thought you were gorgeous from the moment I laid eyes on you. I wanted all of you. Your curves, your tits, your ass, your eyes, you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I don’t know what I did to deserve you because I’ve definitely done some fucked up shit in my life.”

I open my mouth to reply, but he presses a finger to my lips. “Let me show you.” He replaces his finger with his lips, soft at first, his tongue gently pressing against my mouth. I part my lips and he slides his tongue in, dancing around with my own. He gently presses on my shoulders to get me to lie down on my back and I comply, his lips kissing down my jaw and sucking on a spot on my neck that has me gasping. His fingers deftly undo the buttons on my shirt and he flings it open, his lips starting a path down to my chest. 

“Ooo front open bra!” 

I can’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm, the laugh catching in my throat as he pops open my bra and immediately starts lapping at my chest, tongue swirling around my nipples. He sucks one in his mouth and I groan, pressing my hips up against his, feeling how hard he is in his pants already. He pulls his head back and grabs a boob in each hand, kneading and squeezing them as he brushes his thumb over my peaked nipples.

“These are the best tits I’ve ever seen. And I get to put them in my mouth.” He resumes lapping at them, chuckling darkly when my hips buck up again, a quiet moan all I can manage in response. He pulls the top of my skirt down slightly and starts to move down to my stomach, and this is where I twitch. He knows it’s a sensitive area for me, always self-conscious. But he takes his time, kissing and licking and gripping me, bucking his own hips into the couch. 

“Fuck you are so hot. I love your curves.”

He bunches the edges of my skirt up in his fists, kissing my thighs as he does so. Then he looks up at me, a sparkle in his eyes as he winks, his head disappearing under my skirt. He presses my legs apart more and before I can say anything, he slides my underwear to the side and licks straight up me, my hips bucking into his face. He slides an arm across my lower belly, firmly keeping me in place as he laps at me, his tongue swirling around my clit as I gasp and moan, my hands twisting into the couch cushions as I could not grip his hair. 

“Oh fuck, Benny! There!” He found a spot that makes my leg twitch, massaging it with his tongue for a moment before he slides 2 fingers inside me, immediately curling them and finding that magical spot. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he speaks lowly against my cunt, his voice vibrating through me and I lose it, his name tumbling from my lips in praise as wave after wave of pleasure passes over me. I start to come down, but he doesn’t move, reaffirming his grip on my stomach.

“Not done with you yet,” he mumbles, diving back in, his tongue finding another spot that makes both of my legs twitch this time. I manage to prop myself up enough to look between my legs, his broad shoulders poking out from under my skirt where his head is fully lodged. When he licks against me again I come undone, hips twitching as I cry his name. I come down and he pulls his head out, hair all mussed up, his chin glistening with me, a big stupid smile on his face.

“I want you to think of me between your legs every time you wear this skirt.”

That rushes straight between my legs, despite the last several minutes. “Fuck yeah I will.”

He sits up and reaches over his back, pulling his shirt from himself. I lean up and start to undo his pants, Benny chuckling as he watches me. “Can’t wait, huh?” I shake my head as I pull down his zipper. He pushes my legs wider as I pull down his boxers and lay back, slapping his dick against my overstimulated pussy and I jolt. He grips my knees and pushes them a little more wider, notching himself at my entrance.

“Now I’m going to fuck your gorgeous self into this couch and you’re going to take it like my good girl, right?” I nod furiously. 

He slides himself in with one push of his hips and I cry out, his body laying over mine as he pounds into me, praise whispered in my ear between grunts. “You’re so fucking hot, Poppy…never been this turned on in my life…I swear it’s like I’m a teenager again…I just want to be inside you all day or between your legs…fuck your tits have good bounce!” 

I reach up and pinch my own nipples, eliciting a moan not only from me but from Benny too. “Fuck yeah, Poppy. You’re so hot - touch yourself. Show me how hot you are.”

I hesitate a moment, having never touched myself in front of him, or anyone, before. But I trust the man currently buried inside of me with my entire heart. So I lift two fingers to his mouth and slide them inside, Benny swirling his tongue around them with a groan before I pull them out and place them on my clit, teasing myself how I like. The difference is, I’ve never had a man pounding me senseless while I did this and oh fuck this is hot. Benny pushes himself up, his eyes watching where I’m touching myself.

“Just like you like, Poppy. Oh fuck, this is hot, I’m gonna…cum with me!” 

And I do. I cum yelling his name as he continues to press deeper into me, my fingers still dancing across my clit as my legs twitch, my pussy tightening around him as he spills into me, my name a chant on his own lips. He leans down, still inside me, as he presses a soft kiss to my lips. 

“Feel better, sweetheart?”

I’m smiling genuinely this time, my entire body warm and relaxed as I nod. “Feeling loved.”

Oh. Fuck. What did I just say?

My eyes fly open as I look at him. We had never said that out loud. But Benny’s smile is wider than mine. “That’s because I love you, Poppy.”

“Y-you do?”

He kisses me again, still soft. “I have for a while.”

“I love you too, Benny. So much.”

The kiss heats up and I feel him twitch inside me. “Let’s go to the bedroom. I want to spread you out and show you how much I love you.”

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi 

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso 

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz 

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

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@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry 

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[batboyblog]

Your posts do more to promote the good democrats do than any sitting democrat does.

well thats very kind, thank you.

I think it's more we, all of us, live in an age of intention media and social siloing. We have blinders on, we put them on ourselves over years, we only go onto 2-3 web sites, get our news from one maybe two places and talk to people who already agree.

there are studies that show social media intentionally place negative stories in front of users because if you feel shitty you stay on-line scrolling. The traditional media is much the same, if it bleeds it leads, they've long been conditioned to view good news as basically boring and reporting on the good any administration does as serving as the White House's mouth piece

On top of which it's hard to escape the feeling that the media actively misses Trump. He was very good for business, meanwhile books on Biden's well functioning administration of people who get along and work well together are being straight up dropped by publishers because they think no one wants to read that. Trump had all the drama a reporter looking for a book deal could ever want.

All by way of saying Democrats are trying, or some of them are, but people choose not to look, and also social media isn't going to feed it to people by algorithm and the traditional media will at best cover It briefly in passing

also sadly for Tumblr everyone assumes we're dead. So no news organizations have active Tumblrs, no politicians or campaigns. Misinformation from other web pages, bots, and trolls have kinda free reign here

so I'm chugging along with my happy little counter programing because facts fucking matter (and it pisses some people off a lot lol)

[espurisprite0]

After almost 7 years I finally am gonna dig into nostalgia and make the AU I wasn't able to.

I hope my younger self will be proud.

I named it WhichTale to be a play on words of which undertale AU it is because if you look down my history I tried making one in the first place. Cringe but it was very story-driven, just how I liked it.

I didn't go beyond what I had already made so I didn't post much.

Let's just say this is a whole ass reboot. A big one. Idk if I'll be able to draw for this AU as much but it will be more story-heavy.

I'm a little shy with posting my own stuff in a community as old as this, but since nostalgia has fallen into my hands I might as well revive this mess of an account.

(Ironically it was thanks to Undertale Yellow that it went back to my algorithm. Got me to realize I'm a better artist than I was and a not-so-bad writer, so why the heck not.)

Warning! The way lore and story plots will be a bit non-linear. If I ever make enough ill try to link it all up but for now it's gonna be a cluster fuck of a find.

Enjoy!