#operation decorator storm

[satureja13]

The Boys set their cakes outside - and Noxeema had apparently aroused another Operation Decorator Storm for Love Day - her favourite holiday. But first things first - Genji has a lot to explain. The Dorm is safe - Ms Coombes made sure of that. There is a lot to talk about and not a lot of time since Genji will be missed by the Council. So...without further ado, Sai got to the point.

Saiwa: "How did you survive Ji Ho's blood while Vlad had to die?" Genji: "The Council summoned and threatened me - brought me to a lab and gave me those blood bag infusions..."

"I suppose they contained meremaid blood. So I could get used to it and not die when I would drink of Ji Ho and keep him with me after Vlad died. They planned this, I'm sure." Saiwa: "What? But... ok, ok keep going."

Genji: "I almost died but eventually my body got used to it - for a price… I changed... and the bloodlust arose."

"They brought me to Copperdale then. I was so thirsty and it only got worse since no one seemed eligable. And then I saw him (Ji Ho)... I tried to hold back for a few days but I was at the verge of death... and when you showed up in front of my house that day... I'm so sorry."

Saiwa: "But where did they get this blood from? To stir a bloodlust just for Ji Ho - it had to be Ji Ho's blood. Ji Ho - have you ever been forced to 'donate' your blood?" Ji Ho shakes his head. Saiwa: "Strange... Maybe one of your relatives?" Ji Ho: "My mother and my brother are dead. I don't know of any other relatives. I don't know who my father is, but he was no mermaid - neither was my brother."

"So this Lab. Was this in Strangerville?" Genji nods. Saiwa: "Felix hadn't been idle since we left as it seems. We could still restore the data we gathered from the Lab and search through the logs from the time after we left to find out more." Genji: "Ji Ho. I'm sorry. I will make it up to you, I promise." (Hell-ena in the background ;)

Outtakes (kind of, they made this up by themselves ^^')

Genji: "Hereby I declare: I will do everything I can to help you to solve this! And I dedicate my life furtheron to Ji Ho! I swear this on our everlasting bond!" Vlad: ò.ó Saiwa: -.-'

So this is what the Council wants from Vlad? His death? But why don't they just kill him then? No one cares when the Council kills 'creatures' like Vlad... Just like no one cares when you, say, kill a cow and eat it. They are just creatures. Some even approve of it. One creature less to worry about and be afraid of...

'Hurt and pain. Still not enough to let go. Have you felt this way? Is there a cure to endure this deathless woe? Will I fall and break or will true love prevail?'

BEAST IN BLACK - Sweet True Lies

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp prompt #13: Hell to Pay

They say there are only two things certain in life: death and taxes. That’s why even the Joker doesn’t fuck with the IRS.

However, unfortunately for the Joker the other certainty is death and he has yet to pay his dues. Just like how he could only get away with tax evasion for so long, there are only so many times the Joker can dodge death.

Death is coming to collect, with interest.

And the Joker will have hell to pay.

~ A dark green cloud swirls over the city. From it, emerge three oppressive figures:

The one on the far left with flowing hair like white-hot fire. His vambraces made of (what appeared to be) molten glass stopped under his fingers, which then extend into into claws that seemed to drip lava. He had spiked obsidian pauldrons on his shoulders, fastening a luminous, stark-white cape to his shoulders. He wore a coronet of lightning and wielded a flail that appeared to be made of coal chains and a shrunken Red Giant star.

The second on the far right had a helm of dark iron wreathed in a plume of purple flame. His gauntlets and sword flamed with green hellfire. A pure black sheath seemingly made of void and a silver hunting horn were tied to his waist. He wore an armor forged of shadows and proofed with fear. He rode atop a mighty stead. An inky dark stallion with a curved horn and bat-like wings. His form was constantly slightly shifting depending on the angle which you viewed him making him appear larger and more slippery than he was, enhancing his disquieting nature.

The third stood in the middle, smaller but no less terrifying than her companions. Her hair was wild with movement, only just visible because it appeared as if someone had bound the winds to her head. She wore a tiara made of storm clouds and pearls. She carried with her a spear, the shaft crafted of amazonite and the tip of a clear quartz, almost reminiscent of sea salt. At her hip lay a whip made of a restrained gale and a sea glass knife. She wore armor that appeared to be Greco-Roman in origin: a chest plate made of some sort of coral-like material and a battle skirt decorated with metallic bronze feathers.

They slowly descent on the city, bringing down a sense of power and dread. They paused at the top of Wayne Tower, where the city's vigilantes had all gathered in an attempt to create and feasible plan of action to discern what these beings want. The young woman in the middle speaks and the wind carries her voice. She is not loud but it the whole of Gotham hears her words.

"Greetings, Heroes of Gotham. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Spirit, Princess and Head Diplomat of the Infinite Realms. This is Samhain, the Fright Knight, loyal knight to the king,” she gestured to her right before switching to her left “and this is Prince Wraith, current General in Chief of the Realms. We come to you as the King’s Guard and entourage. We have official business in your city and wish to civilly notify you of our presence. The King will be arriving shortly and your cooperation would be great fully received.”

Batman moved forward to shake her hand and address the situation.

“I’m afraid that we prefer not to have unknowns operating within the city. Would you be able to tell us what business you have here? Perhaps we could reach an agreement?” Batman tried to negotiate as politely as he could. He did not want to risk offending the evidently powerful beings.

Princess Spirit’s smile sharpened as she thrummed her finger against her knife. She spoke again with an unnervingly pleasant tone.

“It appears you do not understand. We are not asking for your permission.” Her grip around his hand tightened. “ We are informing you.” She finished releasing his hand.

Batman withdrew his aching hand and regarded her with the beginnings of a protest on his lips. She didn’t allow him to speak.

“ This is out of your jurisdiction Batman. This is a matter of the Realms and the Afterlife. Whatever worldly rules or morals you wish to impose on those who enter this city do not apply to us. We will do our best to work within them, so as to appease you and to attempt to maintain a friendly relationship but in the macrocosm of the multiverse and afterlives you have no official power over us. Additionally, we have direct permission to operate here however we see fit from the City Spirit herself, Lady Gotham.”

Batman’s shadow seemed to fluctuated. His and his team's shadows moved from beneath them, closer to the Princess. Lady Gotham, though not manifesting, was making her presence and approval known. Batman could not deny what he was seeing. His team shifted uncomfortably behind him. He appealed to her once more.

“ I see that we can’t stop you. We don’t want to get in your way either. Could you at least tell us why you are here?”

She smiled as if telling a joke, “All will be revealed in time”

Suddenly, there was a loud noise that sounded like tearing fabric. The green clouds mixed with purples and blues and began to churn faster. The cyclone emitted a flashes of bright light. In unison all three of the King’s Guard lifted up from the roof and took place underneath the eye of the wind storm.

Spirit holds her spear aloft. With one swift, commanding move she slams the butt of her spear down, creating a platform out of solidified air.

Wraith bellows out smoke and ash onto the platform to discolor it. With ferocious and precise movements his claws to carve in a sigil, leaving a soft orange glow against the black and gray.

Samhain sheathes his sword and pulls his horn from his waist. He wills his dark stead to rear up as he blows the horn, letting out one loud prolonged cry.

The three warriors stand at attention and Princess Spirit calls the winds to project her voice once more.

“ Now introducing the Ruler of the Infinite Realms, High King of the In-Between, The Great One, The Benevolent King, The Peace Maker, The Guardian of Souls, The One with the Cloak of Stars and the Crown of Frozen Light, The Perfect Balance, Ancient of Space and Reality, The Infinite King: Phantom!”

With a flash of white light a figure appear in the center of the platform. Simultaneously, the three knights bow in reverence.

The King has arrived.

As the Heroes of Gotham regain clear vision they are met with a striking figure.

There stood a toned young man appearing both boyishly young, yet wisened and weathered. He had side swept hair the creeped to the bottom of his neck. His skin was pale with an icy blue tint. He opened his eyes to reveal they shone an electric green. Upon his head rest a crown made of a crystalline material, reminiscent of an aurora. He wore a navy blue cloak that had a rich purple hood lined with stark white fur. The underside displayed a shifting galaxy pattern. His under suit was the same midnight black as Samhain’s. He donned golden arm bands and a gold chest plate in style quite similar to Spirit’s. His hand were covered in snow white gauntlets that matched Wraith’s vambraces.

They all stood in awe, beholden to the almost divine figure.

The king sent them a gentle smile. It was warm and comforting yet sent a chill down their shoulders.

King Phantom began to fly down toward the center of the city, his entourage fell into step behind him. He hovered several hundred feet over Wayne tower and looked down at the city. He then spoke in a booming voice, his tone kind but commanding.

“ I humbly greet the Lady Gotham, her champions, and her citizens,” the shadows curled toward him appreciatively. “ I am grateful for your cooperation in our effort to rectify a great injustice. As High King of the Infinite Realms it is one of my duties to preside over the afterlife. To bring guidance, peace, and justice to the souls under my jurisdiction. Recently, it has been brought to my attention that there is a soul among you who has not only dodged death, but caused great strife to a vast number of souls who call for justice.”

On the roof of Wayne Enterprises Jason and Damian both stiffen, but remain firm in their gaze toward the king. The king looks out at the city and sparing them the quickest of glances. He continues onward.

“ The man formerly know as Jack Napier, now called The Joker. He has avoided death on many an occasion but his life should have ended moment he fell into a vat of chemicals. Since then he has sent hundreds more to the afterlife. He has long yet to pay his dues. That is why on the behalf of justice, restoring balance, and of my subjects I officially condemn Jack Napier.”

“Jack Napier, you have been allowed 24 hours turn yourself into our custody in order to be put on trial for your crimes in the Infinite Realms. Should you fail to turn youself in, we shall take that as an admission of guilt and acceptance to be punished for your actions. After the 24 hours are up, Samhain shall use his horn to summon The Hunt and we shall track you down.”

His gaze passed specifically over Red Hood, one of the Oracle’s drones, Nightwing, Signal, Red Robin, and Batman before he spoke his next words.

“All those souls who have been wronged by the Joker, both living and deceased, who wish to have a hand in their justice have been invited to join The Hunt if they so choose.”

The king lifted his hand, calling the swirling green clouds to his gather in his palm. The clouds swiftly rearranged themselves into a smokey timer hanging in the sky.

An impish smirk graced King Phantom’s face as he let out a malicious laugh and gave his final decree.

“ Your time begins now!”

[jymwahuwu]

Food for thought, High-cloud Quintet era:

Jing Yuan, Dan Feng and Yingxing helping their innocent Darling (same darling bc its fun!) with "Stamina and Flexibility" training fwhile (and esp when) they have darling assist them in their work after a certain Sword Champion turned their request to be a disciple down for the nth time.

To make it more fun, there is no fixed schedule plan as in order to be a warrior, one must always be prepared to deal with unexpected situations after all:

- Dodging random and unexpected tendrils made of water by a certain high elder to test ones reflexes.

-Maintaining their concentration when meditating whilst being strapped down on a... "concentration training" machine made by a certain blade smith.

-Maintaining concentration and ability to strategize whilst being folded into different poses during a match of star chess with a languid Lieutenant.

For example, whilst also having to assist them while they work. They are busy people, you can't expect them to take time off their schedule to dedicate it to training you alone, would you?

-one of the peeps who hunts the comments section

This is so delicious, I immediately thought of what that would be like… 😌🫶

-CW: yandere, abuse of trust, overstimulation, sex machine

You are so naive and innocent... You are all focused on how to improve your strength and contribution, and you don't realize that there is something wrong with their "training"…

Dan Feng:

Imbibitor Lunae has the ability to manipulate water, weave rain and dew, create storms, and even split seawater, so training with water is really something you can expect. You just didn't expect…High Elder's training to be so…random. From HSR's description, we can know that Vidyadhara possesses a technology called cloudhymn magic, which can make them almost completely invisible and appear quietly around people. So… you were attacked completely randomly.

The water occasionally sprays onto your underwear, wetly revealing the shape of your sexual organs inside. You squirmed uncomfortably and closed your legs to avoid others noticing that water was dripping between your legs for no reason… You didn't want to be thought of as a weirdo who was in heat anytime and anywhere…

Dan Feng didn't even come to you on purpose. He showed no emotion when he did this. The High Elder sometimes wiggles his fingertips a little and your underwear is soaked, and then he goes to have lunch and deal with the daily affairs of Vidyadhara. Sometimes, your chest will also get wet, causing two puddles of water on the clothes on your chest. It's so embarrassing! You have to cross your arms over your chest to cover it up and then go change.

But…the "training" that requires taking off clothes is different. Dan Feng asks you to remain still. For an hour continuously, the warm water sprays on your private parts, the effect is like masturbation in the shower… You have to resist moving. This is a challenge of endurance and willpower…

Yingxing:

This talented weapon forger has gained a good reputation most of the time… Many people have commented that he is arrogant, but Yingxing does have the qualifications of "arrogance".

You trust Yingxing. He is so sweet and builds those weapons for you for free. He put decorations on the weapons he gave you and engraved them with beautiful patterns that suit you.

So… Even though Yingxing gave you that weird "concentration training" machine, you accepted it. That machine is automated…or it operates according to the program created by Yingxing, with more than ten modes.

In the normal mode, you only need to sit on the dildo of the machine (what Yingxing did not tell you is that the shape of the dildo is according to his…), and be penetrated deeply and trembled at the frequency of thrusting. This machine always seeks out your sensitive spots and stimulates them long-lasting and thoroughly. In full mode, your hands and legs are immobilized, and your nipples are caressed and rubbed for constant overstimulation.

Yingxing asks for your feedback and improves the machine. Maybe you should consider some suggestions…

Jing Yuan:

Jing Yuan coaxes you - this is about concentration and strategic skills training. If you can't strategize without interruption, you will suffer defeat in combat. He's just doing it for your own good. This…sounds reasonable?

At least once a day, you have to play chess with Jing Yuan, but the distraction is that you have to sit on his cock and fiddle with the chess pieces. He unbuttoned his pants and took out his fat cock, which was erect. He held his chin, narrowed his eyes and smiled, urging you to sit up. It took you a lot of courage to sit on it for the first time, and the unfamiliar cock almost split you open. So…thick and long. You moaned softly with every inch he thrust in, and his thumb rubbed your private parts to help lubricate you. Sitting completely on it is a terrifying experience. Pleasure bewilders and corrupts your brain…

Maybe this is what Jing Yuan meant by "training"? About whether you can focus on strategizing.

Of course you are… unable to focus. It collapsed in a few steps. Your fingertips tremble as you place the chess pieces. The brain cannot think about the next strategy and route…

After a few months, you get better at it, a little bit, but every time you get close to reaching "victory," you're screaming and bouncing on the general's cock, missing the chance of "victory" in orgasm...

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Anhedonia 1/2

Word count: 5,5 k (part 1) and 4,4 k (part 2)

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader Tags: SMUT 🔞🔞🔞 Literally just unadulterated, deranged filth, plot is there for decoration. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Mutual pining, sexual tension (duh), blood & injury, p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), mutual masturbation, cum all over the place, light humiliation, dirty talk, some praise, swearing, mask stays on, fluffy/reconciliatory ending. Summary: Reader is a Task Force 141 operator and a terrible brat (and suffers the consequences of it later). Enemies to lovers/toxic relationship that takes a healthy turn in the end.

"Think you're smarter than your lieutenant? Is that it?"

"No sir."

You coat your voice with steel. Stainless, similar to the knife he has strapped to his thigh. You would lick that blade clean if he asked gently, but he's not gentle. You'd flatten your tongue on his thighs too, if he asked nicely, if there was a chance he might pet your hair while you do it – but Ghost doesn't take pets.

He only has soldiers. Subordinates.

- - - - - - - - -

He's a mountain you want to climb.

A peak you wish to conquer.

But there's no basecamp, nothing to hold on to. You learn that relatively quickly, during your first weeks under his command.

And he's good. You find yourself wondering how on earth the man's not a captain by now. Perhaps they want to keep him on the field, because he earns his alias every day. He's a shadow no one sees before it's too late, he impregnates his enemies with bullets. Dead silent as he does it, or if he's in the mood, prefers to drive thick, sharp steel between the soft spot behind the collarbone.

It's ridiculous how your eyes steal their way to his left hand as soon as he rids himself of those skeleton gloves. To catch if there's a ring, a warning sign that he's taken.

He's not.

He notices – you're caught red handed. Caught like a fly in a web.

So you decide to go cold on him. Prove that it was just a sweep of a gaze, not a probe, a giveaway.

"Think you're smarter than your lieutenant?"

You're doing it now as he questions you, tries to bully you into submission. You guide your eyes right behind the top of his head, which makes it seem you're looking at him although you're not.

And it drives him crazy.

"Is that it?"

It's the first time you're here, in a silent office booming with his barks. But you know you're under scrutiny from now on. Caught his attention, just like you wanted to with that little stunt of yours.

"No sir."

You coat your voice with steel. Stainless, similar to the knife he has strapped to his thigh. You would lick that blade clean if he asked gently, but he's not gentle.

You'd flatten your tongue on his thighs too, if he asked nicely, if there was a chance he might pet your hair while you do it – but Ghost doesn't take pets. He only has soldiers. Subordinates.

You pull your gaze down to his at last, allow him to see the yawning hunger in your stare before you blink it away.

He draws air through the mask, and you wonder if the skull he's sewn onto the black textile came from a real human.

"Dismissed."

- - - - - - - - -

At some point, you notice that Ghost isn't just a good commander. He's a man on a powertrip, and a fucking bully.

He treats you different, like you’re made of glass. You’re a fresh arrival, but you’re also the only woman on his team, so you figure your Lt is just a good old “gentleman”. You’re always the last to enter a stormed building and the first to get back on the plane. You almost hope there would be some hazing, a rite of passage, but there’s only plentitude of cold shoulder, a roaring lack of trust in your abilities.

You pull more stunts. Clear his upstairs, take some bullets for him - and he doesn't even notice. It’s just that you didn’t know there would be a bomb planted in there as well. The warning comes right after you’re done cleaning.

"Wha' are you doin' - get outta there…!" He does forget to swear, and you notice too late that his accent grows thicker when he's worried. To the marrow of his bones, you would say, but that assumption would be even thicker than his Mancunian – to expect that he cares a single flying fuck about you.

He only wants to stay out of it. Doesn't want blood all over his hands, go to sleep with the knowledge that some kindly relatives get a death notification of a soldier that used to belong to him.

Maybe that's why he's the first to arrive - how the hell is a man so huge capable of being so quick? - to assess the damage.

"What the fuck have I told you-" he starts before he sees the state you're in. Half of your left sleeve blown and burnt off, revealing second-degree burns and jagged skin. The side of your hip bruised by shrapnels, some of the fragments tickling inside the flesh, ugly debris that will soon cause an infection or worse. You'd still say you got out lucky.

"I dunno. What have you told me?"

I did well, didn't I?

You lie there like it's nothing, back against a half crumbled wall and a spoil of bodies around you. Victorious, because your body is the only one that's still breathing. If anyone else had done this, he would praise them on a job well done, on the site, on the spot. With a lighter tone to that charred voice. Then call for a medic.

But inside, you're feeling cold. You disobeyed orders, so there will be no praise for you. Creeping shock takes you with it as the ice seeps further into your chest and your arms start to tremble.

By the look of it, you'd say he's infuriated.

But that doesn't stop you from laughing when you see the look in his eyes, the only part of him that shows skin, shows emotion behind all that gear and ombre of his mask.

Blood bubbles on your lips, coating pearl white teeth in crimson froth.

Shit… Things are far worse than you thought.

And he blinks. Scans what you can't force your own eyes to look at. The reason why you're gurgling blood.

A tiredness spreads through your limbs, so profound that it surpasses even his usual state of exhaustion. You barely discern how beautiful those pale, almost white eyelashes are against all that darkness.

Something inside you breaks, gives in to the cold. It allows his stare to pass right through. It grips your heart and soothes your wounds.

You almost tell him he would be a fine leader if he wasn't such an asshole.

"Haul me back, will you, Lt?"

He's struck silent, like the blood on your lips and the manic laughter had weaved a spell that binds him mute.

His arm twitches, disguises the jolt into a motion to reach and lift you up, not in a fireman's carry, but close to his chest; bridal style, like you're his heart's chosen one.

You tell yourself it's only the shock speaking. He carries you like this because of the gut wound.

- - - - - - - - -

"You tryin' to get yourself killed or you just wanna end your career?"

He sits next to your bed while you wake up, high on opioids and tied to an IV.

Nice to see you too.

He leans on his elbows, legs spread wide, and with an annoyingly soft look inside the sockets of that skull. It almost fools you: that he might actually care. And of course he does. Just not about you. Only about his own reputation as a superior who almost had their KIA count crawl up by one soldier.

"Hey? You still wi' me?"

You know you passed out in his arms. Only to wake up to the sound of his voice: in a bed less staunch than his embrace, as you notice to your horror.

You wonder whether he had ever even left you. Whether he had sat on that chair as a hulking sentinel for hours. Or days. The thought makes you more drowsy and content than the morphine running through your veins. The odd intimacy falsely makes it seem that this is not an interrogation, but a hushed discussion between teammates. Friends, dare say.

"What have I done wrong this time," you sigh, more as a statement; but he answers a question.

"You didn't obey orders."

"I did, I tried to get out as soon as-"

"Don't get me started on how ya ended up there in the first place." He raises his voice, an order for you to stuff your explanations up your arse. Under his breath, he continues. "A fuckin' poor excuse for a soldier..."

Bright, searing light flashes before your eyes as you hear what he never even meant to be a silent whisper for his ears only.

"You're a fucking bully," you croak a weak, dry rasp, voice coated with tension like a string about to snap in two.

And it shuts him up. For a second or two, at least.

"If that's what it takes to get you to obey orders then I'm happy to be one."

"Happy?" You feign a laugh, then wince when you feel a blunt pain between your ribs. "Do you even know what happiness is?"

He leaves.

- - - - - - - - -

"You feelin' better?"

He stops you at the base as you brush past him like he doesn't even exist. He's standing wide and tall as you turn, hands clasped in front of him. Over his cock, you can't help but notice.

Some distant voice tries to tell you that he only tries to offer you a truce. But even the idea of Ghost worrying about your health makes your stomach turn.

"Yeah, had a nice little vacation from your barking. I'm feeling splendid."

He gives you a once over with a gaze turned steel.

"You better quit with that tone, soldier."

"Or what?"

You take a step, and notice he has to fight some urge – to back away, or to take a step forward to meet you, you cannot say. It encourages you to start some shit. It makes you want to throw caution to the wind and rip out his throat.

"You better quit with the fucking bullying 'cause it doesn't work on me. Try something else for a change. Sir."

The hallway echoes with your piercing spurt of words. You sound childish, but he takes it all in like a sponge. Stands taller still, looks down at you like a dark, unwavering maw.

You expect more barking. Furious shouting, spit flying if it wasn't for his mask. You expect a slap – no, a fist to your face, or a giant hand clamped around your throat to remind you of your place.

You expect him to threaten you with being dismissed for fucking good.

But instead, the wide blown eyes get half covered with heavy lids, smudged paint running to the creases to reveal how pale his skin is under all that black. The liquid in his stare turns to solid glass, but not before you catch a flash of chutzpah.

- - - - - - - - -

The following week is horrid.

He treats you like a princess. And not just when you're alone with him – precious few seconds, barely a minute every now and then – but when you're at work. On the field.

He humiliates you in front of your teammates. Showers you with attention and praise.

Tries something else for a change.

You come back soaked and shaky, barge into your room only to send fingers down as soon as you're out of your gear and cleaned up. You think about his hands, the forearms covered in faded ink and bulged veins and the muscles that bunch as he tucks a gun against his shoulder. You think about his stare that locks gazes with you as he leans back against the hull of a plane, you replay his voice in your head, the thick smoke that loses all blaze and cools down into soft embers as he asks if you're in position.

Everyone else can hear his purr, everyone is thinking by now that the two of you got something going on. Everyone else gets unemotional distance and professional sharpness.

You come against your fingertips, so wet that it's difficult to rub through the afterwaves with precision. You're near the point of tearing up as you stifle the moans which threaten to echo all the way to the hallway, betraying your desperate longing for his cock.

You would get in position for him if he was just a tad nicer, if there was any promise of those cruel arms holding you after.

After only a few days of hearing his feigned care and concern through the comms, you march into his office.

"I'm fucking done with you," you slam the door shut so no one else has to hear how you unload weeks of frustration on him.

"Is that so?"

You feel like you're a storm, an entire tornado in one woman, but he remains calm, doesn't even bother to get up from the leisurely position he's in – on a chair far too small for him. Plucks you like a chord, nibs at you like a wound that tries to heal into a scar but is not allowed to.

"You just want me to quit this shit, don't you? Is it because I'm a girl?"

You hear yourself breathe, know he's thinking you're hysterical. He asserts dominance simply by not taking any part in this absurd little fit of yours.

"What the fuck have I ever done to you?"

You think it's a reasonable enough question, that he is a man who would welcome tearing down every last scene of this stupid charade too. But he merely stares at you, calm as he ever can be. Spreads his legs further apart, and you catch a bulge – it's difficult to tell, because he's wearing field pants and not jeans, but you can almost swear the motion is meant to disguise a swelling erection.

And even the concept, the idea of him getting off on you screaming at him and making yourself a fool after he has just humiliated you, causes something to crash and burn.

"You're just a psycho," you accuse, not being able to come up with anything better. His eyes narrow with a smile, tired pools of brown that tell you he thinks the exact same thing of you, especially when you're the one who's freaking out here. Getting wounded and losing your shit during the first few months on the job.

The look could be mistaken as affectionate, but you know he's just tired. The smile makes him look slightly drunk – and not with love.

"Then what does that make you?"

You blink and stare, blink and stare, just like you have always done with him when he's being a dodgy asshole.

"The fuck do you mean?"

"No need to play games with me, luv."

Your chest is heaving. Your heart is pounding. Saliva pools into your mouth before you send it down with a throat-wrenching swallow.

Luv.

You're caught, wrestling and strangling in his web, and you know it – he knows it.

"What games," you still try, try your all to make him break first although you already know that's not going to happen in a million years.

"I know ya want my cock."

"Huh- wha-..." You stutter like a moron at first, then find your English again. "Excuse me?"

"Want it so bad I bet you're wet even now."

It only adds to your shame that it takes you a moment.

"I'm out of here."

He laughs.

He fucking laughs as you go.

The waves of darkness follow you to the door. And the thing is, you're unable to leave. You march away with horror in your chest, with weak legs and an aching cunt and a burning heart, but none of it makes you turn the knob.

"You forgot something?"

His voice is molten, burning velvet, and your stomach lurches, your pussy throbs.

"It's right here if ya want it."

You quiver a sigh, turn slowly, the sound of squeaking boot soles on the vinyl floor being a fitting melody to how your will finally breaks in half.

Everything bends under his searing gaze, and you're still breathing like you had just run a mile, your heart pounding in your ears instead of your chest where it belongs.

"What happens if I do? Want it?"

Your heart can be heard in your question which shimmers between you until he drops one giant hand on his thigh, just a fingerbreadth away from the thick tent between his legs.

"You get fucked. Hard."

You're not smart enough to suppress the faint breath before it escapes through your teeth. The creases at the corner of his eyes deepen, they reach under the mask.

"What if I want you to be gentle?"

You sound pathetic. Weak. He doesn't buy it, doesn't understand that what you're asking is actually part true… No, your most secret wish.

"As if."

"What?"

"As if you wanted it gentle." He mocks you over and over again, and it pricks at the back of your neck, like an itch you cannot reach.

"You don't know shit about me."

"You're making it pretty hard to get to know you, sweetheart."

The term he uses eats its way through your skin like a worm, starts to fester like a spreading plague right beneath your heart.

"I'm not your sweetheart."

He cocks his head, only slightly. A gesture that reminds you of an anaconda trying to decipher whether the animal in front of them is a plaything or prey with teeth.

"Hurts my feelings when ya say that."

You don't take the bait: ridicule or point out that he has no feelings.

You just wait. The time of prancing and dancing is over, and you're tired. Worn out.

The tension of weeks, the restlessness of sleepless nights and adrenaline induced faps do not end with a seize of a wrist, a hungry kiss or him smashing you up against a wall. It all ends with him rising from the chair with a rustle of fabric and a creak of wood, and you hear yourself swallow.

I never meant to hurt your feelings, the little girl in you whispers with a puny voice, the girl who believed in fairytales as a child.

But the grown ass woman knows the man before you is only here to take what he wants, which is nothing more than to drive his cock inside your cunt. There's nothing romantic about it, he just wants to empty himself into you like he would empty a gun into unsuspecting flesh.

Still, you search for some emotion as he walks to you, some cue or clue that he has feelings too – and you want to slap yourself for it.

You square your shoulders and bring yourself down to his level, which means you have to transform yourself into a cock thirsty slut. Not that it requires much of an effort. It comes fluidly, far too easily, especially when he looks at you like he has already stripped you. Like he has done it a hundred, if not thousand times before: took your clothes off with his eyes. Traced the way your ass and breasts swell inside camos and field shirts and how they press against concrete as you take support for your aim or sit down on a plane, how the fabric stretches to curve and hug the flesh he wants to sink his hands and teeth into.

He stops a breath away, the breadth of his shoulders looming over you like a tower. A summit you can't reach.

You remember a name, something not uttered around the base, even if everyone knows it.

"Simon," you breathe, and he staggers – takes a ghost of a step as if answering a call. It turns into switching his weight on the other leg, but technically, he's closer now, close enough to drown into. "Why are you so mean?"

You can hear his teeth clash together as he clenches his jaw. You're walking on a tightrope, and you're faltering, far more wobbly than he. That question is tender meat, it allows him to see a glimpse of the girl, silken soft, innocent and plush, trusting. It causes a glitch, confusion he's not familiar with.

Then he lifts his chin, just a hair's breadth.

"Thought you wanted me to be."

It's almost sentimental, what he says. How he says it. Equally soft… Tentative, inquiring. He's still bone and steel and tendon, but his eyes and voice are not. They're a relic from a distant past, and you stand there, agape.

You dare to hope that there's more to this man, that he isn't here to retaliate. That you're not here to be punished. You risk a flutter of lashes as you scan his face – his bone charade, a prison – up and down, then swallow a decision with a solemn intake of air.

"Where do you want me?"

You're sanguine, almost flirty, but your offer hits nothingness.

There's no additional giveaway to him having any kind of longing, other than the longing to insert himself inside you and take whatever sick pleasure he gets from torturing you. The brief slant was just a fish hook to be sinked into your lungs and carry you to the shore for him to gut and roast. Feast upon.

"Desk."

It's too late to back down now.

Not that you even want to.

You stuff your heart down your throat before it spills up in tears, then slip past him, to the furniture he wants to be your marital bed.

He watches, shoulders rising with heavy breaths as you undress. Shoes and pants end up in the same heap you soon step out of. You enjoy the flash in his eyes at the notion of you wearing strings – something so impractical and uncomfortable yet sultry under all that durable, heavy canvas. A woman emerges from the waves of thick fabric meant for a soldier. Some Aphrodite.

Well, it's something for him to think on after this. Something to torment himself with while on missions if this is to be just a one time only slip.

The bulge in his pants is even more visible now. Demanding, and it adds to the warmth already pooling down below as you set yourself up on that desk, near the edge, for him to feast upon.

You don't spread your legs for him, though. You want to make him work for it. You simply shiver as the cold wood meets your skin, but even more shaky you get when he doesn't have to go through the same ordeal as you. He simply opens the front of his pants and tugs the fabric down, just enough to allow the hefty thickness to spring free.

And it doesn't exactly spring, because it's so immense that you have to do a double take. It simply vaults, bounces up once when seeing you on that desk. You throb at the sight of him, even if he doesn't give you much – he's still fully clothed, with his mask on, only cock jutting out and hands liberated from black gloves with bones printed on them.

His balls hang heavy beneath the veined weight of his cock, and you instantly think about how you're going to fare with at least a week load of cum about to be stuffed inside you. You've had a hand down your pants almost every night for weeks on end, while he has been staring at you with a thickening haze of lust and what seems to be a pair of heavily encumbered nuts.

You don't even notice how your mouth drops open in hungry astonishment.

"Have seen that look before," he brags, and you snap your mouth shut.

Fucking manchild.

He grabs the veined girth like it's his favourite weapon, something he's proud of, and your legs part by themselves for him to step in between. He doesn't have to work for it after all.

"Knew you wanted it," he rubs it in your face like someone who has passed an IQ test with genius scores.

There's nothing ceremonial about the way with which he spreads your lips with the thick tip, slides up and down to coat himself with your wetness, ample amounts of it. It only takes a probe or two for him to find the right angle, and you help him instinctually, offering yourself to him as he slips inside.

The hungry clench grips him immediately, making it a long, arduous journey for the both of you as he has to practically force himself in. But it's worth every thick inch, and your head tilts back with a moan.

"Yeah… Sing f' me, just like that," he cheers you on, and you feel a trickle of hot, wet cream run down your ass. Your slickness is probably running down his shaft by now, too. He adjusts his stance, comes closer, so close that you feel like you are sheltered by his upper body, the shoulders that form a warm cave around you.

And your body betrays you. His praise makes you tight around him, and he groans. You bite your lip at the sound while he takes his time with a few exploring thrusts, then settles fully inside, like you're his new home.

"Nice 'n' snug, just like I thought," he turns toward your ear, the edge of the jarred skull brushing your cheek and making you flinch. He sounds appreciative, relieved, like you're his little treat after a hard day. He's been thinking about you, imagining how tight you'd be for him…

"Didn't take long for you to spread your legs for me."

And he has to be an asshole about it. Has to tear you down a bit for every inch of vulnerability. Your teeth sink in the inside of your lip from the sheer heartache, a little too hard.

"Didn't take long for you to offer your cock to me," you cut back, tasting blood on your tongue. He chuckles.

"An offer you couldn't refuse," he muses, satisfied with himself.

His hand comes to cradle your shoulder, then slides down your back. It feels… feels like a caress. A fond, loving touch. Paired with the thickness spreading you open for him, it also feels like hell.

You grab hold of him, fingers curling around the slippery fabric of his jacket. He allows you no skin, and you try to hold on to the sleek shield you can't get past.

"No," you admit with a panted sigh as he slowly glides in and out of you. "Is this how you break in all your new recruits?"

He doesn't offer a witty comeback, but the silence is stretched further by the fact that he stops moving.

"’S not about breakin' in," he finally answers, resumes to thrust slowly. Agonizingly slow, like he wants to commit this moment deep into memory. Not a quick rut then, as you had expected, hoped, even. But the feeling of thick heat, the brush of his pelvis on your clit, has you clinging to him like he's your knight in shining armor.

And he's gentle with you.

Gentle.

It makes you want to kiss him, lift that mask just enough to have a taste of his neck, see his mouth just before it opens to devour yours.

"You didn't- ah- answer the question." Your shaky breaths must be music to his ears, but you decide that's all he's going to get. He knows now that you're jealous of his attention and his cock.

"Not here to answer your questions," he says, but you hear a lacing on top of it: amusement. "Just wanna hear your pretty cries."

Even if he's far more tender than you had expected, his cock soon pounds into you seamlessly. Fat, urgent. You stretch around him, hear the slickness and an occasional squelch guide him through the thrusts with ease. A lewd fucking that has his shoulders shaking as he reaches for a better hold of you, almost enough to call it a hug. His tightening balls hit against the hard edge of the desk instead of your flesh, but he doesn't seem to care at all.

"C'mon… Let's hear 'em," he coaxes, begs, almost, but you don't sing on command. Much less cry for a man who's tormented you for weeks on end.

"I'm not giving you anything," you utter while giving him loads of hungry cunt and tugging of clothes. If he was naked, he would have scratches all over his back by now.

"You drive me fuckin' insane. 'N' that's sayin' somethin'..." His hiss of an outburst causes you to recoil from him, or perhaps it’s the cause of his hands which thieve their way under the hem of your shirt. But he doesn't probe or squeeze. The touch is far from carnal, even if the palm hovers warm near your breasts. It settles against your ribs, a featherlight caress across the healed wound you suffered not too long ago because of him.

Tears burn at the corners of your eyes.

Fuck… You might open your legs for him, take gunshots for him, but you're not going to cry for him.

"Good, then we're both crazy," you whisper while trying not to choke on a flood. He hums – it's a rumble that rises from his chest and ends in his smoke-burned throat. And for every bit of weakness, he allows you a peek of his own fragility. It's a transaction, you assume, only used to trap you further into the abyss.

"You've dreamed of this, then?" The shadows sigh into your ear, ravenous. 

"Mh," you nearly sob. You tell yourself it's just a noise that happens to erupt, not a confession. But he's the jury and the judge, decides your whimper is a full-scale avowal.

"Mmh…" he mocks with a satisfied rumble in your ear, overjoyed with the bare minimum of a moan you just gave him.

For a moment you fear you're dealing with a starving narcissist. He's praise-starved, love deprived, but good at what he does, and you feel yourself clench around him again. It's an increasing grip this time, not a throb or a suck. The first sign of an approaching orgasm, and it drives him over the brink far too soon.

"Fuck– I'm close," he pants, slightly alarmed. "What about you luv?"

"Not yet," you lie, and he believes you because it dips right inside his deepest fear, like a finger poking an open wound.

"My cock's not good enough for you?"

He discloses something precious: women are usually writhing in his arms by now, but you're not screaming, you're not crying and coming. You're not coming at all, because he's too greedy, too lost in the solace of you.

It's kind of sad, how fiercely you've masturbated at the thoughts of him, only to get the real thing and have it end too soon. You want to surrender and lean back on the cold desk, show him how good you can be as you wrap up around him and make lots and lots of noise just for him, only for him…

But your fingers find an opening, they steal their way under the mask and trace his blood heated neck, and you know he's not going to last – and you have to tear him down while he's at his weakest.

"It's good enough..." you give him the truth and a Judas kiss, knowing he will gobble it up like cake. Slowing down isn't going to do shit, the man is a split second away from heaven, and you tell him what's the matter with a whisper.

"...but you're not."

He comes right then and there with a throaty moan, the most agonized wail you've ever heard leave him. His back arches as he tries to bury himself deep, sweat breaks upon your fingertips from the shame and fury – caused by your words or the fact that he came before giving you your peak, you can't tell.

You feel him throb inside you, like a pulse of a powerful heartbeat before his shoulders cave in, rendering him fragile. A crumbling colossus, too heavy to bear his own weight.

He allows himself only a breath or two. They break upon your skin, somewhere between neck and shoulder, the humidity of his torment nestling in the valley behind the collarbone where he usually shoves knives in. Then he withdraws like a wounded soldier, leaves you emptier than you were before you even knew him, leaves only a fat trickle of combined cream and cum behind. It begins a steady trail down your perineum, ends up on the desk, like a proof that this is all you two are good for.

You're on display, your destroyed and hungry cunt winking against cold air, mourning the loss of his thickness. Your skin aches for the callus of his palms, the touch of them far more reverent than you had ever imagined.

He tucks himself inside his pants without sparing a single glance your way. An injured animal that needs to seek shelter to lick his wounds.

You feel terrible pity, a sinking fear and a blast of guilt upon noticing you might've been wrong. You want to apologize, not as a heartbroken, scorned woman – but as a girl who only wanted everyone to be happy.

"Simon…"

He zips his pants – an audible hint meant to tell you that he got what he wanted, and nothing more. It's like witnessing a giant's limp, and you want to fall on your knees and beg forgiveness.

The voice that follows cuts deeper than the bullets you took for him.

"Dismissed."

[flowersadida]

Aang's problem is that he doesn't live in the world of the hundred years' war. His conflicts aren't related to war, they are more local. Basic example: he needs to defeat the Fire Lord to stop the war. As if it depends on the actions of one dude, and hasn't been the usual routine of the whole world for a hundred fucking years.

All the villages that Aang visits in his episodes in Book 1 are as far from the given realities as possible: “The Great Divide”, “The FortuneTeller”, “The Winter Solstice (two parts)”. All problems are local, and most importantly, there's no war there.

All people there live as if it hasn't yet overtaken them and everything is fine. Yes, there's many episodes showing the problems of war, but they're focused on Sokka, Katara and Zuko.

Especially Zuko, because he's the one who faces the consequences of his people's ambitions, where the world is dying of exhaustion. Aang never faces this exhaustion; rather, he observes from the sidelines in the episodes of his friends (unless other characters point out the consequences of the war themselves, like in "The Storm" or "The Avatar State". But he never interacts with war victims on his own initiative). The only time he took part in military operations was at the North Pole, where he destroyed ships. But that's all, otherwise it's as abstract as possible. Even during the invasion in Book 3 he doesn't participate in the battle and only has to defeat one dude, meh

And since he's the main character of the story, there's the most such abstract episodes, at least in Book 1. This creates the feeling that the war lasts not a hundred years, but about five.

Indeed, if the war had just begun, many things would make sense. Why, among the many victims of war, is only one person blaming the avatar for his disappearance? Because the war has just begun and people haven't yet lost hope. Why do many cities on the border with the FN still have comfortable living conditions? Because the war has just begun, the enemies haven't yet had time to destroy their settlements. Why does ending the war depend specifically on defeating the Fire Lord, and not on careful, painstaking work on mentality and diplomacy? Because the war was the initiative of only one person and didn't have time to influence the minds of generations. That is, if you change Ozai to Sozin, the avatar's mission for the entire series will become logical.

But here's why Aang is bad as the main character: it only works when the world adapts to his actions, mentality and conflicts. He needs to save the weak and defenseless Katara in order to at least somehow invest himself in their relationship and give her something as a partner. Katara needs to expose herself to fire and forget that she's a waterbender to provoke Aang's guilt. The world has to create a lot of deus ex machina for Aang to actually reach the end and defeat the Fire Lord (the avatar state itself, Katara's spiritual water, lion-turtle). He has to pretend the world isn't in agony in order for his shallow mission to take down one dude to have any weight.

Moreover, the further the other characters are from Aang, the more alive they become.

Why is Zuko's arc so good? Because it exists separately from Aang and reveals the character on his terms. Why are episodes centered on Katara and Sokka good? Because they throw Aang into the background and reveal the realities of the world as they are.

That's why I don't believe in him, no matter what conflicts he has. After all, no matter what he feels, it all exists separately from the world in which he lives. And for him to start working as a character, he has to adjust the environment to suit himself, which creates a feeling of theatricality and decorativeness

[t-tomuras]

⛏ ─── • 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

Pairing: Gyuutaro Shabana x F!reader 

Warnings: Modern AU, established relationship, mention of breeding / desire for pregnancy, breeding, oral ( f receiving )

Wordcount: 3.4k

Notes: This started as a drabble idk how I got here. Pure domestic bliss tbh

Gyuutaro working in someone he can vaguely consider a ‘buddy’s’ shop will never stop feeling foreign to him. He’s never been one for friends and doesn’t think about any of his coworkers whenever he goes home for the day. Why would he when he has you to welcome him at the door? The smell of dinner wafting in that makes the work worth it, makes him willing to earn a living to take care of you through reputable means instead of how he’d always operated. 

You’re the only reason he took the job at the mechanic shop your brother of sorts, who looks like he’d lead a similar life of delinquency for a while as well, in the first place. He must’ve straightened out for a woman too, seemed like men like them only ever made drastic lifestyle changes for a woman out of their league in more than just looks. 

Women from a different walk of life even if they’d weathered plenty of their own storms but stayed soft when the world threatened to harden them as well. 

He could see it in your eyes when he first met you, completely at random on a day you’d decided to break your own routine. When he still worked a dead-end job at a crumbling gas station that was only still in business because of cigarettes and lotto ticket sales. Nothing to his name but a half working shitbox, a dilapidated studio apartment and whatever money he had left between paychecks after paying for his sister’s needs. 

You’d stopped in on your way to work because you had to take a different route because of road closures along the way and you just needed ‘a little pick me up. Getting yourself a double shot espresso of canned coffee at five in the morning, looking dead on your feet but you perked when you saw him; and for some reason, Gyuutaro actually couldn’t help but give you a lopsided smile. 

A man who was always reprimanded for his piss poor customer service. 

From then you came in more often, stopped by for a coffee or one of those expensive bottled ‘pink drinks’ or a tea depending on the week or morning; but, you were consistent enough that Gyuutaro could look at the clock and have your drink ready by the time you came in. 

Exchanging numbers before long, meeting up quickly and your relationship from there felt fast tracked into domesticity. The first night Gyuutaro spent at your house felt like the last time he’d ever left besides collecting more things from his apartment to leave littered about your home until he was officially moved in. 

Meeting you had already been an improvement to his wretched life, a second blessing aside from the one related to him by blood. You taught him a different sort of unconditional love, a commitment by choice and you showed him in every way you improved his life. 

From questioning where his next meal would come from or where he’d lift his needs with sticky fingers to a full belly and warm bed. A new job that he does well to keep that helped him buy a nice bike to take you riding on and a high quality helmet to keep you safe. 

He’d never thought he’d have anything like this in his life, at least not without stepping on a few throats and shadier business he didn’t want to fall back into like when he was a teen. 

A rabid dog off the leash no more as he comes home to you every day. 

Opening the door to your shared bedroom to find you clad in only his sweater that swallows you whole and his favorite pair of lacy panties that decorate the swell of your ass so prettily. You weren’t even trying to entice him, that’s just how you lounge but you make the mistake of lifting your head from your pillow to turn and look at him. Offering him that pretty smile of his and suddenly the weight of his day lifts from his shoulders, back straightening as his head tilts to the side. 

A different sort of hunger festering in his gut that the dinner warming on the stove couldn’t satiate. 

You turn to look at your bedside clock with a frown as Gyuutaro starts to peel away his clothes. “You’re home later than normal, did Haku—“ voice fading as you quirk your brow in question at his actions. 

His work jumper already pooling at his ankles as he kicks them away and begins to pull away his pants and boxers. The mattress dipping under his weight as Gyuutaro hovers over you a moment later, lips to your shoulder while broad palms grasp at your hips. 

Sighing at the feel of your skin as he drags them under his oversized sweater you wear and upwards to feel the body he’d missed all day. Gliding along the curve of your waist while you reflexively arch into the mattress, ass pushing into his pelvis to feel his growing erection. 

“Don’t mention that banded fucker right now,” voice low and graveled but lacking his usual bite in regard to the overprotective man. Making you giggle when he adds, “gonna make my cock soft,” as if he’d ever had the issue of staying erect in your presence. 

He understood, believe him he did, Hakuji saw you as the sibling he never had after all and your boyfriend was grateful you had a strong man in your corner before he came around but you were Gyuutaro’s to protect now. 

To love and to care for in the same way’s you’ve done so to him and Gyuutaro has always been good about showing you his appreciation despite his selfish nature. Demonstrating his gratitude in one of his favorite ways that both of you benefit from greatly. 

Starting with nipping playfully at your shoulder and kneading at your pillowy breasts while slowly grinding into you. Grinning lazily at how receptive you are to him, humming contentedly as you fall into rhythm with him. 

Hugging your pillow and turning your head as his fingers hook into the band of your panties. Lifting your ass to make it easier for him to pull them down your legs and unceremoniously toss them off the side of the bed. 

Calloused pads of his fingers digging into your hips before sliding lower, thumbs massaging into the underside of your ass before pulling the skin of your outer lips to see your already glistening cunt. 

Eye’s rolling at the sight, saliva gathering on his tongue, “fuck look at ya, pretty pussy for a pretty girl.” 

Chuckling at how, even after all this time, you still whimper at his comments. Looking back at him with furrowed brows before he feasts on his favorite meal. Laying flat on his stomach to lick a stripe from your clit to your hole just to pull those heavenly salacious sounds from plush lips. 

Humming hungrily as he slurps at your cunt, pawing at your ass with a bruising grip to spread you further for him. Barely parting for breath the louder you get, long tongue dipping into your fluttering hole as his hand comes around to give your neglected bundle of nerves some much needed attention. 

Rolling his middle and ring fingers against the swollen nub in insistent methodical circles as his tongue plunges repeatedly into your sopping cunt. Hastening his face as your hips twitch and buck into his fingers, soft sighs and whimpers crescendoing into throaty moans an octave lower than normal. Gyuutaro lives for moments like these, when he can take care of you so thoroughly you can’t help whatever sound he pulls from you. 

“Go ahead and cum baby, I want as many as you’ll give,” voice tight as his own hips rut into the mattress for a modicum of relief. The vibrations of his broken groans, the feel of his tongue and the pace of his fingers to your clit working in tandem to send you have the edge. Body tensing as you lift your head from the pillow, releasing a sharp gasp that melts into pitchy keens before your left only able to babble his name cutely. 

Panting and whining as you’re at the mercy of his onslaught and you know he’s far from finished with you yet. Pearly tears clumping long lashes until he’s pulling away from your cunt, chin lips and nose glistening with your release as he climbs up your body. Licking what he can away while Gyuutaro grasps his cock to position at your still quivering entrance. 

Running his tip through your folds once, twice, three times to properly lubricate his rigid cock before pushing into you in one thrust to still give you that burning stretch you love so much. Groaning at the feel of you as he sinks into your divine heat, cooing at you over the breathless sound you emit as he sets a desperate pace. 

He never could last very long when it came to you, not that he had any experience besides his own hand on lonely nights prior to meeting you. Gyuutaro never felt shameful about it and you’ve never given him any reason to either, his perfect sweet girl that you are. 

He works himself quickly, mesmerized by the jiggle of your ass as his pelvis slaps against it with resounding claps mingling with the lewd squelch. 

Hand on your neck as you grip tightly to your pillow, muffling your moans once again but he won’t stop you this time, satisfied with the screams you’d rewarded him with earlier. Grin broad on his handsome face, gaze lidded as the coil winds tighter in his lower abdomen with the threat of his release. 

Finally hissing to himself and filling you full with sticky seed he hopes will take with a final forceful thrust that you meet tiredly, Gyuutaro oh so kindly helping your trembling form by holding your hips to him while his throaty, relieved groan mingles with your sweet sigh of a moan as you cream his cock a final time. 

Rolling his hips lazily into yours to ride out both of your highs until you’re both twitching from the stimulation before he collapses next to you. Rolling onto his side and bringing you with him to curve into his body, pressing adoring kisses to your tacky skin. Taking the time to pass his fingers over the freshly healed ink of your matching tattoo in the shape of his teeth along the slope of your shoulder before he pays it affection with has lips as well. 

Birthing the usual fit of giggles from the feel, squirming slightly as you turn your head and bring your arm back to cup his head to catch his lips with yours. Kissing slowly and basking in the afterglow of his sudden fervor even though it should be far from a surprise to you any longer, Gyuutaro has always been a little ravenous with you over the course of your relationship. 

“You need to eat,” you finally say, wiggling from his hold to slide from the mattress and find your discarded pair of panties. Pulling his sweater you wear a little lower but it does nothing to hide the way his spend already begins to leak from you and drip down your inner thighs.

Already rolling your eyes over his wispy cackle when you find the discarded garment, slipping it on as you cast your gaze in his direction. Corner of your lip quirking upward at his comfortable lounge, resting his cheek in his hand while his elbow props him up. 

Smacking at him with heat stinging your tacky skin at his causal remark of, “already ate my favorite meal pretty girl.” Ignoring the boisterous laughter in favor of leaving the room because your stomach still dances in your gut every time he flirts with you. 

The night progressing lazily as you fall into your nightly routine together. Dinner, talking about the workday, a little bit of tv, a shower together full of slapping away his venturing hands before settling down to rest for the workday tomorrow. 

Snuggling into Gyuutaro’s chest as he checks his sister’s location and shoots her a few texts about getting back to her dorm before the curfew he’s set for her after sending Ume her monthly allowance. Pressing a kiss to your forehead as you scroll through Instagram reels you’d saved throughout the day only to ultimately fall asleep in his arms before you were even finished with them. 

But Gyuutaro didn’t mind, he loved how perfectly he could tire you out. Dragged into the undertow of sleep shortly after hooking yours and his phones up to charge before pressing you snuggle into his chest to curl around you easier. Sleeping dreamlessly like he always does after a good fuck even if he misses the vivid images of a family yet to be; of you with a swollen belly his hand caresses lovingly as he presses his ear to your stomach in the hopes to feel a kick. 

Unfortunately morning comes quickly for you both, you starting your workday two hours before he does but you always rouse him enough for a parting kiss. 

Rousing reluctantly at the sound of his phone going off to your wake up call, staying on the phone with you as he got ready and his entire ride to work until you both had to go. Hoping that today won’t go by too slowly as he puts the lovingly made by you lunch into the break room fridge. 

Gyuutaro probably should’ve wished for the slower day, at least then he wouldn’t be too busy to text you back or even call you on his fifteen. The shop’s day was packed with appointment vehicles and walk-ins, working up more than a sweat for the day. He gets 9 cars worked on and pulled from his back before one in the afternoon, dropping a transmission on his own as Tengen and Genya struggle on an engine swap. 

He wipes sweat from his brow and grease from his hands as he finishes up his last vehicle, preparing to take his lunch before any more work could pile in. Glancing at the hanging wall clock by the entrance to the lobby’s door as he begins to shed his filthy jumper, tying the sleeves low around his hips in the hopes of feeling a little cooler in the stuffy workspace. 

Gyuutaro chugs a bottle of water to half empty in one go when he hears the clang of metal and a frustrated curse from the two men across the way. Snarling his lip as he turns his attention to them both. 

Tengen watches Genya use nearly all of his body weight to turn the tool in his hand, the vehicle they’re working on an older model its owner likely doesn’t want to let go of. The younger man with a mohawk had a decent build to him but was fresh out of highschool, maybe just a few years younger than Gyuutaro’s own sister. Your boyfriend could see why he would struggle but as eyes of clear blue skies drift to the bulky moron with starlit locks a rage bubbles in him. 

He never did like the oaf, even scrapped with him once in the first few weeks of Gyuutaro’s employment behind the building. 

Gyuutaro feels proved correct again that all those muscles he’d sculpted were useless, just decoration; nothing but show. 

Genya, being so inexperienced at his age, wasn’t allowed to work on any of the vehicles without supervision as per Hakuji’s orders but Gyuutaro doubted that meant just watching the boy struggle. 

And the lanky man doesn’t care, not really, why would he? Genya’s actual brother worked at the shop as well, he had someone to look out for him and Gyuutaro’s made it very clear he doesn’t care about a soul besides two women in his life. 

Except for the fact one of those women was dating the man, hearing his younger sister's voice in his head over the youngest Shinazugawa sibling. 

Involuntarily recalling the day Ume had broken the news to her older brother, springing the information on him the day you’d invited her over for dinner during her spring break only to have the boy in tow.

He clicks his tongue over the thought, glances at the clock again. Gyuutaro had already missed the window to be able to call you during your lunch hour. Snarling his lip over the fact before the telling sound of snapping metal followed by a string of curses quiets everyone in the shop. 

“What fucking moron put this hunk of junk together, they put these fuckin bolts like they didn’t want ya to be able to work on this bitch ever,” monologuing his frustration as Genya returns from his toolbox with yet another tool in the hopes of prying the part free. 

Gyuutaro sucks his teeth, cerulean hues flitting between the door and back to the pair before he groans loudly. Annoyed just a bit over how weak he was to his sister’s wishes as well as why did the man of her affections have to fucking work in the same building as him? 

Genya was a good kid, he can admit that without issue, he was certainly better than Gyuutaro was at his age. The boy’s only transgression was falling for the girl who’s older brother wasn’t ready to look at her like the adult that she was yet.

Rationalizing that into the reason he crosses the shop floor now to help the poor kid is because he promised Ume he’d be nicer to Genya because she likes him and Gyuutaro had never broken a promise to his sister in his life and he had no intention of letting some punk kid mar his record now.

He’ll give himself a bit more motivation by telling himself it’s also to demonstrate to Tengen that Gyuutaro was always going to be better than him. 

Clearing the space from his workstation to Genya’s in six easy strides with long legs, large palm curling lithe digits into the collar of the boy's jumper as if scruffing him like a stray cat. “Move, I got it.”

Ignoring the irritating scoff that sounds behind him from the bulky nuisance despite how he’s been standing and doing nothing for the last ten minutes while Genya struggled. 

“Another beanpole ain’t gonna budge—“ mockery silenced the instant Gyuutaro slams his wrench downward and snaps the pesky bolt free with ease. Casting a sideways glance and menacing snarl to the meatheaded man as a smile tugs at Genya’s lips and thanks Gyuutaro for his assistance.  

“You were sayin?” 

But Tengen is far from fazed, puffing his chest out as his voice raises louder than normal, something Gyuutaro didn’t think possible that astounds him further. 

“Oi, oi, mantis boy must’ve gotten laid again last night, he never works this hard when he’s in a dry spell.” 

“Three wives n’yer still lazy as fuck, what’s your excuse, pretty boy?” 

Tengen wasn’t usually quick to anger, always quick to call being overly hotheaded ‘unflashy’ and often chastised Sanemi over the fact but today must be special for Gyuutaro.

A vein bulges in Tengens throat and forehead, tight lipped smile far from friendly spreading on his glossy lips as he takes a step towards Gyuutaro. Only a few inches taller than the hunching man but still Tengen straightens his spine to talk down his nose at your boyfriend. “What was that, insect?” 

Ever unfazed, Gyuutaro has always taken on men larger in size and stature and won. Rolling his neck and squaring his shoulders as he straightens his spine to really look Tengen in the eye. 

“Got a hearin problem too or are ya just stupid?” Chuckling to himself as his tilts his chin upwards in challenge, “bet yer wives got tired of bein unsatisfied and figured it’s better jus’ ta fuck each other.” 

The fights about to come to a head, Kyoujuro already in the fringes of Uzui’s workstation behind the man when Gyuutaro’s phone chimes in his pocket. He knows it’s you before he even fishes it from his uniform, shoulders slack as he answers and hears your windchime of a voice. 

Giving Uzui his back as the man sputters indignantly and a snarl to his lip as Gyuutaro coos at you, “no baby I always got time for ya. I’m not doin anythin important at all.” 

[galaxysweets]

A Soilders Christmas Spirit

(Phillip getting ready for Christmas with his wife 🎄)

In the cosy haven of the Graves' household, the air was infused with the nostalgic scent of pine and the soft glow of Christmas lights. Philip, typically attuned to the precision of military operations, found himself immersed in a different mission – preparing for a joyous Christmas with his beloved wife.

The sound of holiday tunes filled the air as Philip carefully unravelled a string of lights, a determined focus etched on his face. Y/n, adorned in a festive sweater, observed with a twinkle in her eye as her husband navigated the delicate dance of untangling the lights, a task that seemed to require the same finesse as disarming a bomb.

As the room began to sparkle with the warm illumination, Philip turned to y/n with a triumphant smile. Together, they adorned the Christmas tree with an array of ornaments, each holding a cherished memory from their shared journey. It became a tapestry of their life – a testament to the enduring love that had weathered the storms of both war and peace.

The scent of gingerbread wafted from the kitchen, where y/n and Philip collaborated on baking festive treats. The rhythmic hum of laughter and the occasional dusting of flour painted a scene of shared joy.

In the evening, the couple cozied up by the fireplace, sipping hot cocoa adorned with marshmallows. The crackling fire mirrored the warmth that enveloped them as they exchanged stories and dreams for the future.

The culmination of their efforts came with the exchange of thoughtful gifts beneath the twinkling lights. Philip, usually pragmatic, had chosen a delicate piece of jewellery that sparkled as brightly as y/n eyes. In return, y/n presented him with a carefully crafted photo album, capturing moments of love and laughter throughout their journey.

As Christmas Eve unfolded, the couple stood together by the window, gazing at the snow-kissed landscape. The world outside seemed to be quiet in reverence to the intimate celebration within. Philip wrapped y/n in a tender embrace, the weight of the past year replaced by a shared promise of love and hope for the future.

In the embrace of their festive cocoon, Philip and y/n Graves discovered that the true magic of Christmas wasn't in grand gestures but in the quiet moments of togetherness. In their haven of love, decorated with the ornaments of their shared life, they found the warmth and joy that transcended even the harshest of battlegrounds.

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter 7

Beautifully Natured

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Sunflower Next Part: The Brewing Storm

Word Count: 5,999

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Descriptions of injuries, mentions of anxiety, and sexual and domestic abuse. Topics discussed in this chapter could be hard for some people, please be advised.

"So..." You shouted from the inside of your walk in closet to make sure Steve could hear you from his spot, comfortably sprawled out in your bed wearing nothing but your blankets. "I just have to input work hours into payroll and decorate a few cakes for pickup tomorrow. It should only take a few hours, do you want to do something after?"

"Ummmmm yeah" He shouted back, sass laced in his tone. "What am I supposed to do? Say no?"

"Well then sorry I asked!?" You rolled your eyes, happy he couldn't see the stupid smile on your face as you buttoned your jean shorts.

"Are you sure you have to go to work at all?" He asked.

"Oh, I'm sure." You looked through all your tops to try and find one good enough to wear to work.

"But isn't the beauty of being your own boss being able to make your own work hours?"

"Yes, but the downside is needing to make sure all your employees are taken care of. If I don't input payroll today, nobody will get paid next week." You explained, pulling a shirt off a hanger.

A pair of unsuspecting arms wrapped around your bare stomach from behind, and a few kisses were placed at the crown of your head. "I'm sure they have savings?"

You giggled at his attempt. If it were up to him, the two of you would be naked in bed all day. Watching movies, eating food, and getting your daily cardio in through endless romps between the sheets. As lovely as that sounded, you had a whole business that heavily relied on you to keep operating.

"People have kids to feed and rent to pay, baby." You slipped the T-shirt over your head, and he stepped back to give you space to do so.

Once your arms were pulled through the short sleeves, and you tucked just the front into your pants. He reached his hand out to grab your injured one, it was only then you noticed he managed to put some pants on.

"How's your money maker?" He questioned, inspecting the healing gash in your palm.

"Getting better every day." You reassured him. "It's almost gone."

"Feeling better?"

"Doesn't even hurt" You nodded.

"Tough as nails, beautiful." He raised the back of your hand to his lips before kissing it. "And you'll have a really cool scar to show for it."

No matter how much time you've spent with him, or how intimate the two of you have become, you still couldn't help the blush in your cheeks whenever he complemented you.

You just simply weren't used to a guy treating you like this, it was as if Steve worshiped the ground you walked on. He complemented you every chance he got, held open every door, never let your glass vase empty of flowers, and deeply cared about your well-being. You'd never eaten and consumed water on such a consistent basis in your entire life.

The track record of lousy men in your life had you used to busting your ass to make sure their stomachs were full, you fought tooth and nail just for a moment of their attention. You'd spend hours squeezing yourself into uncomfortable shape-ware then into even more uncomfortable outfits after hours of doing your hair and makeup just for a glimmer of hope that they'd tell you they thought you were pretty.

You were used to 24 hour labor just to maintain a career and keep your last ex happy, busting your ass in hopes of validation from him just for your cheek to be met with the back of his hand and his back turned away from yours as you slept at night. You'd sleep with him even if you hated every second just for the chance to feel his arms around you, you'd hoped that maybe you'd get to look into his pretty brown eyes and see a tiny sparkle of lust for you. But you always ended up feeling worse than where you started. Like a toy, a vessel for his white picket fence fantasy.

But Steve? You're pretty sure he'd get on his hands and knees just to kiss your feet if you'd let him. Sometimes you felt guilty. You knew you should enjoy every moment of feeling wanted and worshipped, the altitude in which Steve cared about you is something you thought you could only dream of from a man.

But a lot of the times you had to stop and take a deep breath. Like when he'd rest his hand on your cheek and you'd have to physically restrain yourself from flinching, or when he told you how beautiful he thought you were but all you could get yourself to believe was that he was lying to keep you close and use your body. When he reached for your hands to hold them or give you a hug, your brain always wanted to yank them away before he could have the chance to pull you first.

Of course you knew that's not what was happening here, and you never had any of thought thoughts before sleeping with him. Why they had become so loud and invasive recently was beside you, and completely aggravating.

You wished in moments like these you still had Georgia to talk to. She was the only one who truly knew what you had gone through, and the only one who ever seemed to give you advice you could wholeheartedly trust. Of course you had other friends, but they wouldn't understand like Georgia would. Shit, Georgia wouldn't even understand anymore considering she hated Steve with every bone in her body.

So now it was up to you, and your sort-of clueless fugitive to sort out this jumbled mess of emotions in your head. Quite honestly, you didn't want to subject him to carrying the weight of the hurt in your heart. So.... you were down to just you.

"...did I lose you?" He asked as he gently let go of your hands when he saw a glossy lost look in your eyes.

"No..." You shook your head and forced a smile. "Sorry. What do you want to do later? Do you have anything in mind?"

He nodded shyly. "I have some plans in mind if you're feeling up to it."

"What kind've plans?" You asked, eyebrow raising in suspicion.

"Surprise plans" He shrugged.

"Should I be scared?" You thought out-loud.

"No" he giggled. "It's definitely nothing too crazy."

"Should I change when I get home from work?"

"Nope, what you're wearing is perfect, and I'll come pick you up."

You checked your outfit in the mirror hanging on the closet door just to make sure you looked okay before leaving the house. "A t-shirt and shorts is perfect?"

"You look great" he grinned proudly before kissing your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror.

"Are you sure you want to pick me up? I don't mind meeting you at your place." You questioned.

"Yeah of course!" He said enthusiastically. "Why would I not pick you up?"

"Just seems a little inconvenient for you, that's all." You grinned at his confusion.

"It's not inconvenient" He shook his head. "It would be inconvenient for you to come all the way back here just to meet me at my house then leave again. Plus, even if it was inconvenient for me I wouldn't mind because I'd do pretty much anything just to spent 5 minutes with you."

"You're a puppy dog, Steve." You smiled on the outside but screamed on the inside, just trying to convince yourself you deserved this.

Behind that smile, he could see there was something wrong. Your hesitancy to accept anything he was saying to you at the moment was making him slowly panic and shrink into himself. He was scared he had done something wrong, or maybe you were just starting to remember the gravity of the situation the two of you were in.

No matter what, he couldn't think of a situation in which the pain in your eyes wasn't his fault. It made him swallow hard and think of a low pressure way to ask what he did to make you feel hurt enough to hide it.

He watched your walk to your shoes and slip on a pair of white sneakers, and tie them up in a perfect knot. Leaning against the door frame to wait for you, you popped back up with a little spring in your step.

You approached and put your hands on his waist just to feel his warm bare skin underneath your hands one last time before you had to go, then rocked up on your tippy toes for a kiss. His hands met the small of your back, before one of them traveled upwards to caress the side of your cheek.

Once again, you had to suppress the fight or flight response a hand on your face caused.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked you, slowly moving his hand back down to your spine.

Turns out, you weren't as good at hiding your internal war as you thought you were.

You nodded, "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" He asked again, his tone was gentle but you could tell he was genuinely concerned.

"Yeah" You tried to convince him, but you really couldn't even convince yourself. "Yes, I'm okay."

That did nothing but raise the anxiety levels in his own mind, and cause his heart to sink into his stomach. But he knew now wasn't the right time to open up a whole can of worms right before you had to go to work, so just for you, he was going to live in the sinking feeling for a little while before he could see you again and talk about it at a better time.

"Okay" He pressed his lips together in a straight line and he looked down to see your face, his long hair forever flopping into his eyes. "I hope you have a good day at work"

You could tell he was worried, but you could tell even more that he thought he was the source of whatever was going on. And although that was partly the truth, it wasn't his fault and it killed you to see him look so down about it.

"How could could it possibly be good if you aren't there?" You questioned rhetorically, earning a genuine smile from him.

"Well I'll be here waiting for you the whole time, that's gotta count for something, right?" He smiled.

"Just like I said, you're a puppy dog." You smiled genuinely this time, and gave him one more kiss. "You can stay here as long as you want by the way, no pressure to leave."

"Okay, I'll see you later, Baby." He gave you another kiss for the road.

"Looking forward to it."

For the entirety of your time in the bakery, you just couldn't stop thinking about it, about him. You really did care about him so much, and you knew how much you meant to him as well. The more your mind spiraled the more guilty you felt.

Then you started thinking about Georgia again. If she really cared about you, why was she so keen on your ex but won't touch Steve with a 10 foot pole? Steve was the one who treated you like a god while the last one was taking advantage of you and playing cat and mouse behind closed doors.

Was it lack of judgment, or perhaps too much judgement? Maybe she was like your mother and would rather you be miserable in a situation that was bad for you just so everyone around you could think you had a loving husband and kids, rather than be happy with Steve who was a little too rough around the edges for Greenwood. Or maybe she was just like you, flinching and cowering at the remembrance of your last love.

You held it together until closing, then when it was just you alone in your cozy (not so) little bakery, a few tears fell and blurred your vision as you piped out the intricate details on the pink princess style cake on the turntable. A good time to take a breather didn't really happen until you finished the third and last cake, and all of them were tagged with the customer invoice and safely stored in the fridge.

You went to the bathroom with the intention of trying to fix yourself up considering Steve would be there at any moment to come get you, and you really didn't want him to see you like this. After managing to get yourself mostly presentable, you made a discovery that accounted for some of the dramatic emotions today, and that was a visit from Aunt Flow herself.

Your period made her monthly debut, and somehow, that made you feel a little bit better but also significantly worse. There was now something to blame for the tears, but also a whole new source of anxiety. For the first time, you'd have to deny Steve sex if that was in his list of plans for the night.

The thought made your hands shake and an uncomfortable stinging reside in your lungs. You really didn't want to find out that he was anything like your ex. If you said no but he still said yes, and insisted his emotions were more important than yours, you weren't sure you could handle that.

You couldn't handle a whole night of hugging yourself to sleep with his back facing you, holding back tears as to not wake him up. You couldn't handle disappointing him, or upsetting him just because of a two letter word slipping off your tongue.

Before you could even get your phone out to text him to reschedule, you could hear footsteps in the store. One last look in the mirror had you taking in one last deep breath before walking out and facing the cold hard truth that maybe you'd be led to uncomfortable disappointment tonight.

"Sunflower!" He smiled when he saw you, quietly walking over.

"Hi Stevie" You greeted, once again putting on your bravest face.

"I saw your cakes in the fridge, they're so pretty!" He complemented.

"Thank you, thank you" You accepted, feeling a little calmer around him. With no more room to let your mind wander, there was no time for imaginary scenarios. "You look very handsome"

You were also comforted by his choice in outfit. Much like you he was wearing shorts, a causal shirt, and some sneakers. There was a hat on his head and his car keys remained in his palm.

"You always say that." He smiled and shook his head.

"Cause I always think that" You rebutdtaled, turning off the lights, getting ready to leave with him. "Soooo what are we doing?"

"Oh! Right!" He lit up. "I thought we could have a picnic and watch the sunset over at the Lakeview Cliffs. Is that okay?"

Another wave of relief washed over you, you could definitely use some fresh air and a sunset to help clear your mind. "That sounds perfect."

After a big hug and a long kiss, he held all the doors open for you, conversation flowed easily, he set up the whole picnic insisting you didn't lift a single finger, and the two of you ate until your bellies were happily full.

With nothing around but grass and trees, and a gorgeous lake below the cliff, the world suddenly felt less suffocating. You loved moments like this were Steven from Greenwood could just be Steve Rogers, and you didn't have to be the neighbor anymore.

You could be you, he could be him, and the two of you could be lovers with nothing to hide from.

As the sun started it's decent, he took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair a few times before laying down and inviting you to lay down with him.

Settling down side to side on the blanket, his arm was your pillow and his hand was grazing the top of your arm until you reached up to lace your fingers with his.

You could physically feel your heartbeat settling with the sun, and your chest warmed with the hot summer air. The season was coming to an end, every once in a while there would be a cool breeze that reminded you that fall was rapidly approaching so you enjoyed the heat until it was gone.

Not many more words were shared after that. Deep down you both knew that you each had your own thoughts to sort through in your own jumbled up minds. The only difference was that you knew the battle Steve was fighting, but cluing him in on yours felt impossible.

So instead of thinking about it, you thought about nothing but the beauty of the world you lived in. You watched the sun reflect off the calm ripples of the water off in the distance, how softly cushioning the grass was beneath your blanket, the rustles of the tree leaves with every passing breeze, all the chirps of the birds soaring over the water, and the calming breaths and radiating warmth of your favorite boy next to you.

You could've cried right then and there just because of how calm you felt, how beautiful life could be regardless of personal experiences and circumstances.

You couldn't possibly imagine how Mother Nature designed such beautiful colors to paint the sky every night as the sun made its way to light up different parts of the world, or how she came up with the idea of a quick green flash to signify the end of daylight, and most importantly how the light of golden hour made Steve even more beautiful than before.

His calmness made you calm, and his stillness made you still.

Even after the sunset you two continued to lay and watch the stars twinkle. But you rolled to your side and rested your head on his chest, just to hear his heart beat faster when you held him closer.

After about an hour of comfortable silent stargazing, you propped yourself up just to be able to give him a kiss. He happily accepted, but also could tell you were tired, and he knew you were still at an emotional distance away from him, so he knew it was time to get you home.

There were some uncontainable smiles you missed on the car ride home. Steve would take his eyes off the road for just a split second to see you struggling to fight off sleep with your head resting against the passenger window, you also missed more smiles when you took his hand off the gear shift to hold it in both of yours.

It seemed as though the whole neighborhood was asleep by the time he pulled into his driveway, so he felt more than comfortable walking around to get you from the passenger seat. Besides, all of Georgia's lights were off.

"Come on sleepyhead" Steve held out his hand for you to help you out of the car, and you dragged yourself out.

When you were back on your two feet, your calmness was replaced with anxiety again. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions all day, and you were ready to just skip to the part where you could hideaway in bed to deal with the disappointment in Steve's reaction to you denying him what he probably wanted.

"There you go" He closed the car door, and once again promised to take you to get your car from the bakery tomorrow.

“Thanks for everything tonight, I think I really needed that." You admitted.

You could see the concern on his face once more as he pulled you in for a hug. "Anytime. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry." You nodded, pulling away quickly just in case someone was watching. "Just not really feeling the best today."

You wrapped your arms around yourself in attempts to self sooth, he could tell how uncomfortable you really were.

"What's going on, sweetheart?" He questioned, leaning back against his car.

“I don't really know" You shrugged and sighed. "Just have a lot on my mind."

"Did I do something wrong?" He flat out asked, seeking his own peace of mind.

"No" You immediately shook your head? "God no- it's not your fault. I'm sorry if i made you feel like you did"

"It's okay, I just- I could tell you've been a little weary around me recently and I just really want to make sure it's not something I'm doing to you." He admitted hesitantly.

"No, baby." You stepped closer to him. "It's really not your fault. I'm so sorry."

He wanted to comfort you, his arms ached to hold you close, his lips wanted to kiss you and tell you that whatever was happening would be okay. But he couldn't here in the driveway, not for potential neighbors to see. Not for his sake or yours.

"Do you want to go inside?" He offered, your heart immediately started racing, you felt nauseous like you could throw up at any moment.

"I can't" You shook your head again, holding back tears. Your eyes immediately met the floor, but not before you could see his eyebrows furrow.

"You can't?" He questioned, dripping with worry.

All you could get yourself to do was shake your head.

"What's going on?" He continued to ask.

"Um," you swallowed. "I just started my period."

His posture deflated and his expression softened, "is that why you don't feel good?" Steve asked, causing you genuine confusion.

"What?" You finally looked up at him, blinking back tears.

"You don't feel good and you're about to cry" he stated the obvious. "Is it because of your period?"

"No- it's just that I can't-" A tear finally broke and fell down your cheek, you quickly wiped it away. You felt pathetic, you couldn't even finish your sentence.

"Baby" He pouted. "Are you sure you don't want to come in?"

"No" In a moment of courage, you stood your ground. If you didn't do it now, you never would be able to. "I can't have sex with you tonight, I'm sorry."

The second those words flew out of your mouth, Steve was taken back. Not because of what you had denied, but because he understood now what this was all about. He became overwhelmingly sad for you, but also overwhelmingly angry over the men that trained your brain into such a viscerally traumatic response at the situation at hand.

He didn't know what do or or to say, he didn't know how to reassure you that it wasn't his intention in the first place, or how to calm you down in a way that felt safe for you. He needed a few seconds to formulate an appropriate response with every factor at play.

Unfortunately you took those few seconds as rejection, and it didn't take much for your silent tears to turn into sobs as your legs quickly carried you away from him and toward your own house. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Wait, wait, wait!" He called out, but he didn't want to chase you, and he certainly didn't want to hold you back. "That's not what I was expecting from you when I asked if you wanted to come in. I just wanted to talk about what's going on, that's all."

His heart broke for you, there was nothing that could make it better. He knew that, but he also wished he had known about this about 10 minutes sooner so he could've found better words to invite you in. He could've been a bit more sensitive on how he chose to handle the night better, he could've avoided making you feel so uncomfortable in your own mind. He just felt bad.

You stopped in place for a few moments to hear him out, but everything in you mind and body was telling you to run- far and fast to your front door, locking your door and the deadbolt behind you.

As your ears listened for his footsteps walking on the concrete to come catch you and pull you back towards his house, you couldn't comprehend that he was staying put. Leaning against the sleek black car, you weren't a mouse and he certainly wasn't a cat.

He was relieved when you stopped, but terrified the next words out of his mouth would be the wrong ones. "You don't have to spend the night if you don't want to, you never have to do anything you don't want to. I just wanted to make sure you're alright." He reiterated once more. "You can even go home right now if that's what you need to do, but I hope you know I really care about you. And I'm really sorry if I made you feel pressured into that, ever"

Immediate guilt washed over you. Again. Just like it had all day long. You had imposed so many of you passed experiences with shitty men on your Sweet Stevie, and you couldn't believe you let them continue to spoil every attempt at love you've made since you escaped their hands.

Now you were sobbing between driveway 304 and 306 while he kept as much physical distance between the two of you as he could, hugging a car instead of your body.

You so desperately wished you never had to feel like this, all while he was plotting ways to ensure you never had to feel that way again.

It was too overwhelming, the flooding emotions made you dizzy and the floor felt like it wanted to swallow you whole. All you could do was sink down onto your knees, then fall onto your butt when you felt how invasive the concrete was on your skin.

Steve wanted to cry with you, part of him could never understand how you felt, but another part of him knew exactly how you felt. So many people had hurt you in ways you couldn't have ever imagined, and trying to rebuild yourself after being torn down was painful and complicated. He's been there, he was there. Right here, right now, and the only thing that ever made him feel better was you. His warm sunflower, his guiding light in the dark.

Maybe you needed him too, so he approached slowly. When he made it to you, he sat down with enough space to make sure you knew he wasn't making advances towards you.

He rested his hand palm up towards you with his forearm in his lap. You always played with his fingers when you were anxious, so he wanted a low pressure way to offer that to you.

"I'm really sorry, Sunflower." He apologized once more, his voice calm and compassionate. "I had no idea. I never meant to hurt you like this."

You slowly reached out for his hand, all while still being unable to even look at him. It was warm and heavy in your grip, his fingers were silky soft and nimble for you to fidget with.

"You mean so much to me, no matter what we do together all ever I want to do is spend time with you. You aren't just a body to me, you never have been but maybe I got a little to carried away. I just really, really like you." He continued.

You mind slowly calmed as he spoke, and all the times you two have made love came rushing back to you. Not so much the deed itself, but how you felt before and after.

All the times he asked before laying a finger on you, all the times he checked in to make sure you were still feeling okay and on board with the endeavors, when he told you how beautiful you were, how happy you made him, how good you made him feel, the eye contact, how good he made you feel, how he made sure you knew that you were wanted and appreciated, all the times he got you cleaned up, how he always made sure you were warm and comfortable, and how he continued to give you his love and attention when all was said and done. He'd hold you close, make sure you were tucked in just the way you liked, peppered your face, shoulders and arms in kisses.

Even afterwards he still made sure you felt beautiful, wanted and seen. His attention towards you was never transactional or conditional. He wasn't the problem, he was never the problem.

When you felt calm enough, and your brain could finally recognize that there wasn't a threat, you pushed yourself up and onto him. Your arms wrapped around his body nice and snug, and you cried into his shoulder. "It was never you, this isn't your fault. I'm sorry you have to deal with it."

He very hesitantly wrapped his arms around you too. "You don't have to apologize."

"Neither do you. You've always made me feel so good, I don't know why I get like this sometimes. My brain tells me I need to run away, but my heart knows you'd never hurt me. It's just a battle of who's voice is louder."

“I understand what PTSD is like, I know what it's like to have been hurt and betrayed by people you love, but I can't relate to what you've been through. So when you feel like something is wrong, or you need me to change whatever I'm doing, just tell me, okay?" He cradled the back of your head. "I'll never be mad at that."

"Okay" You tearfully agreed. "I'm really sorry"

"It's okay, Baby, you're okay." He comforted you.

"You're so important to me, and I love spending time with you" you reiterated. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"You didn't hurt my feelings" He pet your hair, "I'm just really angry at whoever made you feel like there should be a consequence to saying no. You never deserved that."

"Thank you for being so understanding." You shoved your face deeper into the crook of his neck.

"Honey, I'm going to say exactly what I mean this time, okay? In the most delicate way possible, I really want to make sure that you're okay, and you're sobbing in the middle of the sidewalk after running away from me for the whole neighborhood to hear and see. Can we please go inside so I can make this better without someone calling the cops? I don't think that would be good for either of us." He reworded his invite into his house.

The way he phrased it actually made you let out a genuine laugh, you had never really thought about how bad it looked or why he actually wanted to get you inside.

"Can we go to my house?" You asked, craving the comfort of your own bed.

"Of course." He agreed. "Hold on tight."

Understanding what he was about to do, you moved your arms to wrap around his neck instead, and he picked you up as you clung to the front of him like a koala. He got you inside safe and sound, and brought you to the couch where he sat down and you remained latched to his front.

He wrapped a blanket around the both of you to make you feel more secure, and rubbed your back and let you cry for as long as you needed. Every once in a while, he'd remind you that you were safe and in good hands.

When your crying came to an end and you were half asleep on Steve, you realized that moments like these were far more intimate than sex ever was for you, and here you were feeling more than content letting him provide his shoulder to cry on.

You reached up to caress the side of his head that was resting on yours, then kissed his temple. He grinned and kissed your forehead before wiping the last of your tears off your face and kissing your lips.

"I think you need a good night of sleep, Darling." He told you, still smoothly running his hands up and down your back. "Can I tuck you in?"

"Actually, will you stay?" You asked.

You couldn't help blushing at his reaction, a goofy lopsided smile. "Really?"

"Yeah" You nodded. "I've found out recently that I get my best sleep when you're next to me, and like you said, I think I need some good sleep."

"I would love to."

You guys dragged your feet up the stairs and he patiently waited for you to shower and get into bed. When you made it to the blanket and pillow wonderland, Steve was propped up on the headboard shirtless and in a pair of sweatpants he always left at your place.

Your arms found each other quickly, and his bare skin comforted you just as much as the heavy comforter he was pulling over your shoulders. Your found his hand under the blankets, and lifted it up to placed in on your cheek.

He immediately used his thumb to rub the gentlest little hearts under your eye as you left your hand cupping the back of his.

All of the parts of you that were once hurt in the hands of a man who claimed he loved you, were now on the journey of being healed by the kindness of a man who didn't even need to say he loved you to prove how much he cared.

You were comfortable, being held snugly and listening to the beat of the kindest heart you've ever met. And for once, your cheek was warm with something other than a residual sting.

Tonight wasn't perfect, and that's okay, because tomorrow the two of you will wake up to the sun returning from the journey it sought after just a few hours ago, and it'll be a whole new start. A whole new chance to get it right. It'll wake you up with a warm glow to bask in, and you'll also bask in the warm glow of somebody who really cares about you for all the right reasons.

That was all you could've ever hoped for, a man who was beautifully natured.

When you did wake the next morning, you were alone in bed but noticed your phone had been plugged in, your water bottle had been refilled, and a little note was on the unoccupied pillows next to your head.

At first your heart sank thinking maybe he got that phone call in the middle of the night, thoughts of never seeing him again filled your mind with dread. But you picked it up and his adorable little handwriting with a heart next to your name in the middle of a folded up piece of paper made you smile regardless of what was inside.

Your fingers quickly unfolded the paper, and out came a $20 bill, with more words jotted down on the light blue lines.

My precious sunflower,

Bucky called and I couldn't find it within my heart to wake you up. I'll be back soon with coffee, breakfast, and more cuddles as soon as he lets me go. (He can talk for hours if I let him, it's currently 6:35...) If you're actually reading this it means he's probably still talking and I'm probably still letting him. Also, while writing this I realized I still had this $20 and if you give it back to me one more time I'm going to be mad!!! >:(

Okay see you soon, Beautiful :) -Steve

You put the note in your bedside drawer to read again on a rainy day before shoving your face in the pillows and covering your head with the blankets with blushing cheeks and a smile on your face. You deserve this.

Next part: The Brewing Storm

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @happinessinthebeing @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @lokislady82 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @xxxalicerogersxx @avid-fic-reader-05 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bitchy-bi-trash @crazyunsexycool @openup-yourmind

[bugs1nmybrain]

Crusty Kitty~Neko!Shigaraki x Reader Smut 🩵✨️

Notes: I hate myself

Summary: Tomura and his girlfriend end up in quite the predicament after a job gone wrong.

Reader is Described as: having fluffy hair, curvy body, short, female, she/her pronouns, reader wears a skirt, grey/black colored ears and tail.

Warnings: Explicit pet play, 18+ (MDNI), fem reader, breeding, kitty boy Shigaraki AND kitty girl reader, BITING, furry themes?, biting, unprotected sex, dom Shigaraki, unapologetically horny and clingy Tomura, titty sucking, reader is resistant to Tomura's quirk, mention of murder, cringe use of "nya" and other variations of it, mommy kink, cunnilingus, Tomura has white ears and tail, Tomura calls reader a slut, season 5ish Shigaraki (blue hair), shiggy has a noncon-ish thought at one point but the sex itself is entirely consensual, not proofread yet

Fuuuuck...

This was bad.

It wasn't uncommon for Tomura and his crew to run into some people with crazy quirks. Sometimes they'd do the strangest things to their bodies. This one though, it was about to kill Tomura. His newfound tail would not stop wagging and curling itself around his leg, trying his hardest from not grabbing you as you stood in front of him, brushing your hair.

Yesterday, you and Tomura had gone to a little interview to see if this mid-level criminal you two had heard of was willing to join the League. They were well-known in the underworld and had great connections. Tomura hoped to have gotten something good out of the encounter, but he soon discovered what he usually did. Another tryhard who was looking to steal his spot as the ruler of all things evil. So, there was a little tastle, to say the least.

In attempt to protect you, Shigaraki had gone after the villain with physical force. Before he knew it, you and he had been sprayed with some nasty smelling odor, left coughing up a storm. Tomura had managed to snatch ahold of the cocksucker, crumbling him away.

"Achew!" perfumes or anything like that always made Tomura's sinuses act up. "Good riddance. Let's go."

The next morning, you and him woke up to a surprise.

Both of you were decorated in ears, tails, claws, fangs, the whole nine yards. You still looked like people, but...catlike. Like a neko that you'd see in hentai. Tomura couldn't begin to describe the shock that washed over him when he saw you laying next to him with greyish-black ears and a tail of the same color. At first he thought it was just you, but when he felt something fuzzy hit the black of his legs, an instant "oh no" shot through his thoughts.

You two tried acting as if everything was still the same. Okay, so you guys were like this. Didn't mean that operations had to cease, right? Even though the looks that the League gave Tomura made him want to knock each one of them on their asses.

Ujiko said that the effects of the quirk should wear off in maybe a week. That's a long time to have these fuzzy ears and stupid fucking fangs that bit Tomura's tongue when he was least expecting it. Oh yea, his tongue was rough now too. What the fuck.

You. Were NOT helping. Actually, you were adorable. He'd watch as your tail would swerve along around your ass and when your ears would perk up when he asked you a question. Your figure was as breedable as it always was, but something about having the accents of catlike features made him leak. He could smell you now, too. This kitty boy transformation was embarrassing. Not only because of the way he looked but also because he was unbearably horny.

Tomura was horny as fuck already, but this little predicament had him fidgeting so bad and sweating as he looked at you. Your breasts seemed fuller than normal, and your ass was always bucking outwards. You must've been feeling it, too, huh?

It didn't really occur to him that you were both young adults, at prime "mating" time. And it wasn't like you and him were going to get spayed or neutered. It was also super convenient that this had happened right as you were at a high chance of pregnancy within your reproductive cycle. If that didn't make you horny enough, you sure as hell were now.

He watched you brush your fluffy hair, trying to avoid hurting your ears. He wondered if you'd tingle if he touched them. "Let's see..." he thought.

When Tomura stepped toward you, his tail immediately started wagging eagerly. Your eyes darted at him and you noticed how much taller he was than you, making you tingle. You wanted him to dominate you so bad.

"Do you know how bad your cunt smells right now?" Tomura husks, nuzzling his face into your hair. He breathes in your lady musk and grinds his groin against your back.

"I'm sorry..nyuahh..."

!

"Are you serious? Hehehe!"

"Sorry!"

"Shhh..mmm...back your ass up again..."

So you did. You rubbed your ass up on his crotch, tail flicking in his face. God, you made him throb so baaad. You looked up to his face while you coated the crotch of his pants in your soaked cunt, seeing his dilated red eyes that screamed "I'm gonna breed you so bad."

"You're such a sexy kittyyy,,,nyah.." he teased. You couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but the way he rutted against you gave you the impression that he was yearning. He teased his fingers on your ears, scratching behind them while you mewled. The way you reacted made him snicker. He bit your neck without warning, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Mmm! Tomuraawwhh~ what are you doing??

"I need you mommy...let me fill you with my kittens..nnyeow..."

Your cunt arched back on instinct. Tomura hiked up your skirt, showcasing your ass and cunt. It was dripping wet, begging for him to stuff you. He swore he could even see your clit twitch. Oh he wanted to fuck you silly, but he'd feel bad leaving you hanging. And he always got so sleepy after he came, and his catboy transformation made him need naps all the time. His white tail raised up as his cock leaked more at the thought of tasting your pussy.

"Get in bed," he commanded. Without hesitation, you nodded vigorously with a beaming "mhm!" and got in bed. You lie down on your back with your legs spread. You still had panties, but they were perfectly drenched, and there was glossy fluid glazing your thighs. Tomura took their handles and yanked them down, admiring the sight your puffy clit.

It didn't take any time before his mouth was latched onto your hot, wet cunt. Your smell was driving him feral, making his cock leak and twitch with vigor.

"Nyaahh...~!" you screamed. Your cunt was insanely sensitive and Tomura's rough tongue was relentless on your clit. The texture against your cunt drove you crazy as you rolled your hips. But Tomura held your thighs and devoured you, determined to have you cumming in minutes. You went to tug at his thick blue locks, petting his white ears as you did so. His teeth clamped down, though he tried to keep his mouth away from your pussy as he did. Even he respected that a bite to your pussy wouldn't feel very nice.

He mixed in some finger action, too, though he hadn't even thought that his claws may hurt you. He scratched your thighs gently while he continued attacking your cunt with his mouth. He looked up, seeing how full your tits looked underneath your tight tanktop. "Change of plans", he thought.

Tomura came up to your neck, licking and covering you in love bites while he pulled your shirt below your tits. Your nipples were flushed and incredibly sensitive, as you trembled at the slightest touch of his fingers. He cackles a bit and then latches his mouth onto your breast, sucking as if he was feeding on you. He made sure to rub your clit while he did it, hoping to have you cumming while he sucked your titties.

Bingo. With just a few precise motions and his rough mouth, you spasmed on his fingers and cried out in agonizing arousal, creating the most animal-like noises. Fuckkk...

"MMww...Tomuraahh~"

"Ehehehh..what is it? Does my kitty slut need to be stuffed..rrr~..."

He was purring! fhzjdijfas

"Mhm!"

"C'mere, then..."

Tomura manhandled you and flipped you onto your stomach. The sight of your supple ass made him buck, freeing his cock from his painfully tight jeans. His cock was pulsing and almost red from how pent up and horny he was, tip leaking with plenty of pre. He slapped his cock over your hole a couple of times and then proceeded to sink himself inside of you deeply.

"Awh!~"

FUckk...was he drooling? Your pussy felt SOOO wet and hotter than the Sahara. And yet, you were still suffocating him and unbearably tight. He plunged his cock in and out of you, making you scream underneath him. You sounded so gooey and wet and his cock kept thrusting in and out of your soaked cunt, and the added bonus of his hips smacking against your ass made it evident to the whole League that you were getting a good serving of Shigaraki right now.

Your mouth hung open for your cute fangs to show. Tomura shoved his fingers into your mouth, feeling around your sandpaper tongue. You bite his finger on accident, making him shout.

"OW! You bitch!"

He wasn't mad, though. He just cackled and growled to himself with his sore finger rubbing your lips as he pounded your cunt relentlessly. You were so small underneath him, making his dominant instincts fuck you even rougher, knowing that if you wanted to leave he had all the power to keep you under him. Your pussy fluids were leaking your your thighs onto the sheets. Fuck, you two smelled AWFUL, too. "This will need much needed cleanup," Tomura thought.

"Mmm!~ Nywah~ you love my kitty cock filling you up, huh??~"

"Yeaaawh~"

He sounded just as loud as you right now, crying and mewling out and in desperate need to pump you full of his cum. He bit your sensitive ear while he tugged on your tail, causing your ass to lift higher. His cock shoved itself into your core repeatedly and his balls slapped your ass. He bruised your cervix while he rammed you and he was going to cum soon, you could tell by how rough he was getting.

"T-rr-t-tomura!"

He didn't respond with words, instead driving himself in your body a few more times before eventually slamming deep into your cunt with a final yowling groan...Tomura rocked his cock into you even after he came, his sensitive cock aching terribly. When he pulled out he watched as his cum dripped out of your cunt, making him cry.

"Rrrr-hr-hrrr....mawhmmmy~"

"Mmm?"

"I loveee yew~"

"Eheheee...really??"

"rrrr..yeaa. Cuddle me."

It wasn't a request, but rather a demand, as Tomura wrapped his arms around you and practically trapped you in his grasp. He purred in your ear while he smothered you in his embrace, nipping at your ear and neck.

"Hey!"

"Mhmhm what?"

"That hurts."

"But I love you~" his raspy voice mewls.

"rrrr whatever..."

"Say it back."

"I love yeww Tomura~ you know I do."

What a wild turn of events, he thought. Your smell was still driving him crazy, but now that he made you his little cumdump he was ready to nap, and he wasn't going to allow you to leave. Both you and Tomura drifted off into slumber, purring in each other's arms, snuggled as close as humanly (..) possible.

[mythaura-blog]

January 2024 - Development Update

Hello folks, Miyazaki here! Hoping that your 2024 is off to a great start.

Like we mentioned in our December 2023/year in review development update, Mythaura has officially reached a new stage in development: active content creation. As a heads up, this means that there will be a reduction in the amount of big, shiny new content—we won't be rolling out any systems close to the scale of the demo.

From here on out it will primarily be updates on sponsored Ko-fi content, keeping up with the Ko-fi Quarterly Rewards system, art (including more Beast expressions!), and occasionally some written content/worldbuilding.

We will always post on the first of every month, rain or shine, but we just wanted to call out that if the news posts seem a little lighter in comparison that it's not because we're not hard at work. It's the opposite!

Under the cut:

Rogue starter Class

Ko-fi Winter Quarter 2024 winners

Ko-fi sponosored Companions

Dragon expressions

Featured Class: Rogue

Rogues cherish skill and versatility above all. Their fighting style focuses on evasion, speed, and bolstering their own attacks to score high-damage hits against their opponents.

The Thieves Guild has its roots in the Southern Plain. Unicorn herds generally don't lay claim to any one territory, instead following the seasonal paths of the storms that batter the region, so inter-herd communication became crucial for the economies of these nomadic groups. A particularly savvy band of merchants found that there was more money to be had acting as in-betweens for these herds than marketing their own goods, so they established a network of contacts across the whole of the Southern Plain.

Not all contacts were willing to handle the more illicit asks—the movement of illegal goods, sabotaging competing herds, and even discreet assassinations, in more extreme cases. A splinter group of like-minded individuals banded together to form the first Thieves Guild, a business operation that was—in most cases—willing to take on whatever work was asked, given the price was right.

Today, the Thieves Guild has spread to all corners of the continent, but are especially prominent in densely-populated cities and towns. Their mere presence has left an indelible mark on Mythauran society, and nothing escapes their notice.

Starting Equipment: Thief's Claw

Small, subtle, and easily tucked in the folds of a Beast's apparel—the Thief's Claw is the quintessential tool for any Rogue. What it lacks in decoration it more than makes up for in functionality—its deceptively sharp edge can be used to cut through rope, aid with picking a lock, or quietly encourage someone to comply with a Rogue's request.

Companion Concepts

Along with the Thief's Claw starting equipment, choosing a Rogue for your custom starter Beast will also grant you a Class-unique Companion.

Ko-fi Sponsors of Bronze level or higher will have a say in which companion they would like to see as the starter Companion for the RogueClass. Please vote on this post by Monday, February 26, 2024 at 11:59pm PST in order for your vote to be considered!

Ko-fi Winter Quarter 2024 Winners

Thank you to all the Ko-fi sponsors who voted for the Winter Quarter 2024 rewards. Next month we will show the finalized artwork for the Snowdrift Furline Companion and the Knitted Sweater Glamour. Stay tuned!

Expressions: Dragon

Koa, Luci, and Kymara have all been working hard on the Beast expressions project, and we've made enought progress to be able to show you the finalized artwork for both the young and adult Dragons.

Crafting the expressions has been an enormous undertaking. Along with the linework, shading, and highlights, every Special and Super requires manual illustration on the base. Following this, we run each expression through a PSD plugin to build every color. We have almost completed every species' base layers on all colors (top, bottom, base, & eye) and are excited to share them with you in the following months as we complete their Specials.

Sponsored Companions

Torchlight Python

Sponsored by: Maevely

Belligerent Capragora

Sponsored by: Ljslibby

Fruit-Footed Gecko

Sponsored by: Maevely

Mythaura v0.26

Mythaura v0.26

Battle state has been refactored to add stability and solve problems with between-state retention

Removed unneeded collision objects, reducing overall physics calculations.

Implemented instancing for all meshes to re-use similar objects instead of duplicating them.

Disabled swaying vegetation by default, which heavily impacts performance. This can be toggled in the graphics settings.

Fixes pixelation/blurring that occurs when zoomed on a beast or companion in Safari and Firefox.

Large companions, such as the Dale Wanderer, no longer zoom out when toggling the zoom-in option.

The touch screen joystick can now be set to on, off, or auto from the "Gamepad" settings.

The time you wait in queue before being brought into an AI practice Arena match has been reduced to one minute.

Locations have had infrastructure added.

NPCs have had infrastructure added.

Began initial work on a dialog query builder for robust dialog trees.

Support for elevation has been added to the map builder.

The map builder now supports different colored dynamic lighting.

Map design has begun for Talon's Rest.

Thank You!

Thanks for sticking through to the end of the post, we always look forward to sharing our month's work with all of you--thank you for taking the time to read. We'll see you around the Discord!

[necroromantics]

🎃 — Tim // Mystery

oct. 1st writing prompt

- tim was never the type to celebrate halloween, he didn’t even put up decorations

- he wasn’t bitter about it, but he didn’t have much care for holidays. never celebrated as a child, which followed him into adulthood

- on the last night of october, he sat on his recliner reeled back with his hands clasped over his chest and his eyes closed. the distant laughter and chatter from children trick or treating filled the air, creating a lighthearted atmosphere

- this didn’t last long as a loud knock on his front door shattered the relaxing ambiance like a glass plate hitting the floor. tim’s thick brow furrowed as his eyes fluttered open.

- he could’ve sworn he put up a “no candy here” sign. or maybe these kids couldn’t read, or were annoying enough to not care.

- not moving from his seat, he waited for the knocker to make their leave. but soon, another loud knock roared through the room from his front door.

- a frustrated groan left his scowling lips as he got up from his chair and made his way to the door, pulling it open and ready to scold some children.

- to his surprise, no one was there. no one was even walking down his drive way. his eyes scanned the dark of his front yard, and the families walking past his house.

- and then tims eyes met the ground. or, moreso, what was on the ground.

- on his front step was a pumpkin with a piece of paper stabbed into it with a kitchen knife. tim eyed the outdoors once more for any suspicious figures and promptly dragged the pumpkin inside for better inspection

- at first he thought some teenagers were upset about the no candy, and decided to do something different from egging houses this year. but then he read the note.

- “i know what you’ve done, tim.” with the very familiar operator symbol sketched messily underneath the scrawled words

- no normal stupid teen would know that symbol.

- for a second, he was worried. he almost reached for his phone to call brian. but then he realized it was halloween, and on this day the creeps go wild. it seems this year, tim was their unfortunate target.

- he tossed the pumpkin out, paper, knife, and all, and took his seat once again on his comfortable recliner chair.

- as soon as his body hit cushion, another loud series of knocks erupted from his door. now he was getting very irritated.

- storming towards the front door, he quickly ripped it open ready to pick a fight with whoever was interrupting his time to relax. he wasn’t having it.

- and of course, nobody was there.

- no one. nobody was anywhere. his eyes darted around the neighborhood and noticed not a single child, mother, teen, anyone, was around.

- until his eyes clicked onto a figure standing across the street, wearing a michael myers mask and holding what appeared to be a knife

- was he scared? not in the slightest. was he pissed right off? absolutely.

- tim glared at the figure who only stared right back, unmoving, and reached for his 12-gauge shotgun which leaned up against the small table he kept by the entrance. just in case.

- with attitude he waved it around, showing off his right to bare arms and mocking the figure ahead

- in reply, it only stood still and stared. up until a loud crash was heard from his back kitchen.

- “what the fuck?”

- tim took his gun with him, closing and locking the front door behind him, and made his way silently to the kitchen. he entered cautiously through the doorway and eyed the mess on the floor, alongside the decapitated head that seemed to be what smashed through the window

- mystery solved.

- with a frustrated sigh, tim crouched down and picked up the head, tossing it into a garbage bag. he swept up the shards of glass and made his way outside his house with the bag draped over his shoulder.

- he knew who the prankster was now, and he was furious. one day, thats all he asks, is just one day for some peace and quiet.

- tim went toe to toe with the looming figure that stood across the street, now an arms length away. he was glaring holes through the myers mask the no-longer-stranger was wearing. his thick arms were crossed in disdain.

- “alright kid, cut the shit. take off that ugly mask, im not playing your-“

- “hey tim did you like your present?” a sly chuckle came from behind the man. toby was wearing a jason mask, wielding his axe and coming from the house.

- tims heart sank. if toby was back there, who was he talking to?

- he quickly turned back around to face the silent masked stranger and when he did, no one was there. vanished without a trace.

- “what the fuck…?”

- “what? you mad?” the younger mocked, stepping to meet tim’s side and removing the jason mask he wore. “cmon timmy don’t be such an ass. if it makes you feel any better, they were already dead when i cut the head off.”

- “no- shut up. listen. if you were the one who threw the head through my window, who the fuck was standing across the street?” tim said with unease.

- “whatre you on about?”

- tim looked around the neighborhood now once again introducing children and families, toby didn’t seem to have seen the man who was just standing face to face with tim a second ago.

- “look man, you better take that shit inside. or dispose of it. get the fuck off the streets,” toby scolded in a low, quiet tone.

- the older scanned the area for any sign of the masked man, but to no avail. the putrid smell of the rotting flesh hit his nose and tim realized it was time to go back inside

- once evidence was rid of, he finally put an end to the exhausting night and made his way to his bedroom. as he walked through the door, his heart began to beat so hard in his chest, he felt it in his throat

- the michael myers mask the stranger was wearing was sat neatly atop his pillow.

[satureja13]

Night fell over Belgraves Institute. All was dark and quiet. Vlad is about to sneak back to the greenhouse to find out where that smell came from.

But someone is following him - dammit! And of course it's Ji Ho. Vlad should have known better. The Bond pulls them together. Maybe Ji Ho thinks Vlad is going back to the Mirror Hall to contact Luci...

So Vlad went outside to their yard instead. It was a warm night. Vlad can feel Ji Ho's broken heart through the bond and it's breaking his heart to see Ji Ho like this.

It started to rain again soon - it's Copperdale after all 🌧 And so they went back inside. Vlad is determined to find out what that ingredient is and bring Luci back. No matter the risks. Even if it's only that Ji Ho and Luci can say goodbye before Luci leaves forever.

(Vlad found out that drinking the mixture (which was meant to supress the bloodlust) helped him to step back and let Luci in. But Kiyoshi burned the mixture to keep Vlad from doing it because they are afraid Luci could claim Vlad's body to be with Ji Ho and would never let him back.)

Outtakes

Maybe Ji Ho was thinking of his last night with Luci ;)

Noxee aroused another Operation Decorator Storm and made them a patio.

Their yard from above.

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest

[theterribletenno]

Lucifer the Void Angel warframe

Part of me is surprised Lucifer took this season by absolute storm... and part of me isn't. Here's hoping I can live up to the hype! Lucifer's blueprints can be obtained in two ways; they are dropped by killed void angels and can be purchased from Archimedean Yonta if the player is rank 5 (Angel) with the Holdfasts at the cost of 15,000 standing per blueprint.

Health: 260 (360 at rank 30) Shields: 260 (360 at rank 30) Armor: 360 Energy: 175 (225 at rank 30) Sprint Speed: 1.0

Passive: Each of Lucifer's abilities evolve up to four times as he uses them, empowering them and granting him +15 max health, shields, and armor for every evolution up to a maximum of +240 of each with all evolutions complete. Upon being downed Lucifer loses one level of evolution from each ability and all evolutions are lost on death. Ability evolutions do not carry over between missions. Ability evolution effects are subject to all effects which would normally affect abilities such as mods, arcanes, and operator abilities.

Ability 1: Fass Spear, toggled ability, drains 5 energy per second. Upon activation Lucifer fires a beam of void energy with infinite range and perfect accuracy from his palm which deals 275 times 1+X (where X is equal to the enemy's level divided by 10) radiation damage per half second. Fass spear takes 1.5 seconds to activate and deactivate. Fass Spear's evolutions increase the size and intricacy of void-styled decorations on Luci's arms & hands. EVOLUTION 1: Land 100 headshots with Fass Spear. Perk: Fass Spear now has a 20% chance for status and crit and a 2x critical multiplier. EVOLUTION 2: Kill 100 enemies with Fass Spear. Perk: Fass Spear now deals half of its damage on contact and the other half as a spherical area of effect around the contact point with a 3 meter radius. EVOLUTION 3: Keep Fass Spear active for 10 continuous seconds. Perk: The activation/deactivation animation for Fass Spear is changed and now only takes 0.5 seconds. EVOLUTION 4: Kill an eximus enemy with Fass Spear. Perk: Damage dealt by Fass Spear now changes to match enemy weaknesses.

Ability 2: Netra Wave, 50 energy. With a mighty stomp Lucifer discharges a 15 meter long, 3 meter wide wave of decaying energy that slows affected enemies' movement and attacks by 60% for 8 seconds. Netra Wave's evolutions increase the size and intricacy of void-styled decorations on Luci's hips and legs. EVOLUTION 1: Cast Netra Wave 10 times. Perk: Netra Wave now strips 60% of affected enemies' armor. EVOLUTION 2: Hit 10 enemies with a single Netra Wave. Perk: Netra Wave changes to a 16 meter, 120 degree cone. EVOLUTION 3: Hit a total of 50 enemies with Netra Wave. Perk: Netra Wave now stuns enemies instead of slowing them. EVOLUTION 4: Kill 75 enemies under the effects of Netra Wave. Perk: Enemies killed while under Netra Wave's effects drop an extra item from their loot pool.

Ability 3: Jahu Shield, 75 energy. Lucifer wraps himself and allies within 20 meters with a void shield that protects them from harm, granting 1,000 points of overguard. Cannot grant overguard that would exceed 10,000 points. Jahu Shield evolutions increase the size and intricacy of void-styled decorations on Luci's chest and back. EVOLUTION 1: Apply a total of 10,000 overguard to yourself and allies with Jahu Shield. Perk: Jahu Shield's maximum overguard increases by 2,000. EVOLUTION 2: Cast Jahu Shield when it would reduce your current energy below 25. Perk: Reduces the energy cost of Jahu Shield by 25. EVOLUTION 3: Cast Jahu Shield when you or an ally within range are below 50% of max health. Perk: Jahu Shield now restores up to 200 health. Healing from this effect can only grant health. EVOLUTION 4: Cast Jahu Shield within 1 second of your or your ally's overguard breaking. Perk: For the first 3 seconds after activating Jahu Shield the affected player(s) are immune to damage. All damage absorbed during that time is added to overguard. Overguard from this effect can exceed Jahu Shield's listed maximum.

Ability 4: Lohk Incarnate, toggled ability drains 3 energy per second. Embracing his void lineage allows Lucifer to draw his one-of-a-kind exalted melee weapon, the Carnage. When summoned Carnage takes the form of a pair of exotically shaped pearlescent dual swords, almost alien in shape. Carnage has relatively average attack speed and per-hit damage compared to other exalted melee weapons, a normal range for dual swords, and deals mostly slash damage with inferior values of puncture and impact. Carnage also has 25% crit and status chance with a 2.5x critical multiplier. Unlike other exalted weapons the Carnage is an incarnon weapon, able to be transformed by heavy attacks when its combo multiplier is at 6x or higher. Transforming Carnage into its incarnon state fuses the two blades together restoring the weapon's original, unbroken form. This exotic weapon is classified by the Tenno as a gunblade, and in addition to improving both per-hit damage and attack speed compared to its default state the incarnon Carnage's gunfire attacks launch clusters of grenade-like projectiles that deal pure radiation damage. In both modes Carnage's attack animations prefer wide-arcing slashes while advancing and hard-hitting thrusts while standing. Gunfire attacks while in incarnon mode are placed at the end of combos or can be triggered with heavy attacks. Lohk Incarnate evolutions increase the size and intricacy of void-styled decorations on Luci's helmet and shoulders EVOLUTION 1: Achieve a combo multiplier of 6x and use a heavy attack. Perk: Enables the use of incarnon mode. EVOLUTION 2: Kill 100 enemies with this weapon's incarnon mode. Perk: Increases crit and status chance by 15%. EVOLUTION 3: Activate incarnon mode three times. Perk: Incarnon mode now only requires a combo multiplier of 3x to activate EVOLUTION 4: Achieve a combo multiplier of 12x and use a heavy attack. Perk: Incarnon mode's gunfire attacks now change their damage type to match enemy weaknesses.

Subsumed ability: Fass Spear.

Signature weapons Heiligtum: A deadly incarnon sniper rifle that fires deep-penetrating beams of light once transformed. Wehdienst: A full-auto pistol that transforms into a pocket-sized shotgun with an accompanying glaive in incarnon mode. As his signature weapons the animations to transform Heiligtum and Wehdienst into and out of incarnon mode are twice as fast while he wields them.

Closing notes: Since Lucifer's incarnon-based kit means he prefers longer missions I did my best to give him a set of abilities that would be flexible enough for any task but scale particularly well for long-lasting survival missions. I split his signature weapons into separate linked posts so that Luci's page wouldn't be "color of the sky" length.

[vvyvernicus]

Beginning of my Winter King x OC fic. Unsure if I'll commit to finishing it to full, but I'll leave it here in case anyone was curious.

Chapter 1: The Winter Star

When thinking of the coldest month of the year, December often comes to mind. All the winter decorations and holiday traditions are promoted most during this time of year after all. But in reality, the months that follow can have much harsher climates. Just like the weather that blankets Ohio in January.

The first snowfalls are beautiful and awe-inducing… for the first couple of days. Then people get sick of all the ice. It's cold, makes roads dangerous for travel and is just a pain to remove when more will just take its place a few hours later. Pure white snowflakes that first fell to the ground have now become coated with dirt and grime. And people will be wishing for spring to take over.

Not to mention when they block the view of the sky. Planes have to navigate through them carefully whenever a storm happens. And the people assisting the pilots from ground level have it even more rough. However these stresses really only apply to people like Yenna Lynn who are air traffic controllers.

With the weather being frequently abysmal, it made their jobs just that much harder. Knowing that lives could be potentially lost only added to the tension. So just what was there to be done about that stress? 

* * * * *

“Damn blizzards…”

The brunette scowled as she pulled her winter coat tighter across her body. Not only did these snow storms make directing the airplanes substantially more difficult, but they had prevented her from leaving her work premises. There had only been light snow that morning but no forecast predicting that the weather would turn into this. Then again, it was the snowiest time of the year. 

Yenna stared out the glass door which was getting battered by icy clumps from the other side. If it hadn't formed two feet of snow at the base, she might have been brave enough to traverse through it and get to her car. Normally there was equipment used to remove the snow buildup, but only during daylight hours. Unfortunately she was working a night shift. So for three more hours she was to be confined to her work environment.

“Ms. Lynnly, I see you've been taking in the scenery.”

She did not turn her gaze from the window as she knew who it was. One of her co-workers, one that she may or may not have indulged in a few risky acts with to fulfill a temporary way to relieve stress. Despite this, they were definitely not friends. At least not from her perspective.

“What do you want, Jeremy?” she groaned as she tore her focus away from her view of the world outside.

He stood taller than her, but considering she was 5'3, most men she came across did. Though not by too much, only by a couple of inches. It made it easy to make eye contact with him and look into his blue eyes that were eerily similar to hers. Thinking about it made her reminisce of back when she first got the job and people confusing them for siblings for that fact alone.

“You were looking a bit more anxious than usual so I thought I'd pop by to check on you. I'd offer you some of my ‘special candy’, but I know you don't operate that way,” he chuckled as she shot him an unimpressed glare.

While it was true that their job positions could be quite stressful at times, not once had she accepted one of his illicit methods of relaxation. Not only was it illegal, but she was pretty sure if her boss found out she would be fired. Unless he and the other staff were stealthily slipping them as well. Honestly it wouldn't surprise her if they had official doctor's prescriptions for stress relieving drugs. 

“We are literally snowed in. Of course I'm stressed out,” Yenna huffed before pulling her coat tighter. Even if they were inside, it still felt blisteringly cold to her. A grin flickered across Jeremy's face as he got a little closer to her.

“You know, we could always… have a little de-stressing in the bathroom. Not like we're on the clock so we have plenty of time to—”

“On second thought I do want some candy. Hand some over, will you?” she said as she gestured for him to slide some into her coat pocket. His eyes widened and he seemed to be in genuine surprise that she actually wanted to take them this time. “Just give me the damn smarties and I'll make sure I de-stress you thoroughly later,” she smiled at him as her fingers began to trail across his white dress shirt.

After that interaction, she found herself in possession of the alleged ecstasy candies. Though she grimaced at the thought of spending another time with him privately. She didn't exactly want the benefits he provided for her anymore. Not that she ever craved them the first time. But now was not the time for her to be thinking of the future.

With the bathroom door locked and secured, she reached into her pocket to take out the baggy. Inside were three round tablets, one red, one blue and one green. They really did bear a strong resemblance to smarties. Though she doubted they tasted the same. She popped the blue one first and was immediately hit with a bitter taste as she swallowed it.

Definitely not candy for kids. It went down her throat easily but then she pondered on if she was supposed to chew it up first. Suddenly panic set in as she worried that in the chance she took it wrong and that something bad could happen. Luckily Google came to the rescue and assured her swallowing it whole was the way to go.

“Thirty minutes to an hour, hm. I haven't eaten anything since lunch so it's got to be closer to thirty right? This waiting sucks,” she then groaned as her body slumped to the cool floor.

This is what her life had come to. Taking narcotics in hopes that life would suck just a little less. If only her parents could see her now. Though she never did care to meet them as they ditched her as a baby. With no familial ties, she was able to focus more on landing a good job for herself. However a six figure salary was starting to seem pointless if she was stressed all the time and had barely any time to do things outside of work.

Sighing, she leaned back against the wall as comfortably as she could. It was quite cold in the bathroom. Even with her hands inside her pockets she felt cold. Maybe the tablet also made one more sensitive to temperatures. No, it had to be because of all the cold outside building up. 

Her mind began to feel hazy and weak. The smartie was taking effect and now she could finally be at peace. She leaned down so that her head was flush with the hard floor. For some reason it felt like a cushion of softened snow. The faint sound of the winds howling away outside began to lull her into slumber.

* * * * *

Eventually she had to get up. There was a good chance that people would wonder where she was after being gone for so long. Plus it wasn't a very comfortable position. After all, she didn't want to keep touching the cold masses of snow beneath her. 

What a silly comparison for her brain to use to describe the bathroom floor. Sure it was cold, but it wasn't ice. Or wet. At least not last since she checked.

Her body suddenly jolted upwards as her eyes blinked themselves clear. As she gazed at her surroundings, one thing was clear. This was not the bathroom. Nor did it look close to the airport. She appeared to be in the middle of a forest that was covered thick with snow. This… had to be a prank, right?

“What the hell?” she spoke to herself softly as she stood to her feet. “Did someone seriously drag me out in the middle of the woods as some kind of… prank?”

She looked around for signs of people or perhaps cameras filming. It was a weird conclusion to jump to, but she wouldn't be surprised if that happened to be the case. She probably blacked out after taking the drug and a rival co-worker saw perfect opportunity to take the chance. Though this would have to be the most extreme prank someone had caused her to go through. Certainly a step up from putting salt in her coffee. 

Then a more likely reason popped into her head. Of course. This was a hallucination. Had to be, no doubt about it. Though was that a even a side effect of molly? She was no drug expert by any means.

“At least I didn't hallucinate my clothes being wet in this lovely weather,” she muttered as her hands started to dust off the snow clumps that had been forming on her clothes.

Touching the ice made her shiver more. Okay, maybe not a hallucination. But she was still holding onto the possibility. It would not be fun to have been stranded in an unknown location like this.

Oh of course! No need to panic since her phone was in pocket's reach. All she had to do was turn it on. Great, still has plenty of charge. Now to Google maps—

“Shit, no service,” she growled as she turned it back off and shoved it back into her pocket with unnecessary force.

Too far out into the wilderness that her phone wasn't able to get a signal. So much for that expensive data plan. As she looked around as her brain argued with itself on which direction to walk towards, she felt a certain pain in her chest.

Every time her heart beat, it felt like someone was sticking a needle right through it. One needle soon became several needles. And soon her hand found itself clutching at her chest. Though it did nothing to stop the pain.

She fell to her knees and doubled over, snow coating her pants once again. Now was no time to be panicking and yet…

It must have been a side effect of the pill she took. Anxiety welled up in her chest and was violently attacking her heart and lungs. She couldn't breathe. And it was too cold. Much too cold to think properly.

“Hey, over there!”

Her head perked up at the sound of the voice. It sounded like it could belong to a young, teenage girls. Even though she was trembling an in pain, she still did her best to pull her body somewhat upright. As she did, she saw too figures gliding towards her over the snowy ground. But as they got closer, she couldn't help but recoil backwards.

“A human woman?!” one of them blurted out in surprise as the pair stood only a few feet away from her.

As she stared at them in bewilderment, their pale blue eyes bore a similar expression. The two were completely identical in appearance. Each wore a blue helmet with a lightning bolt shape coming off the top, blue skirts and cyan blue hair that nearly came down to their waists. Their skin was also completely white and they had long, pointy noses. They also had swords which made Yenna even more wary of them.

“It can't be a human, they all got wiped out during the war remember? Our king told us that so it must be true,” the other said as she looked at Yenna with skepticism.

“Well, maybe not every human did. There had to be at least a few left that he didn't know about. Our king is great and smart, but I bet he doesn't know absolutely everything,” the first to speak replied as she lowered herself to Yenna's level. Yenna's eyes never wandered too far from their hands and weapons.

“Excuse me, but where exactly am I?” she spoke up as she tried her best to avoid showing weakness to these strange creatures. She had no clue what was going on, but for now she had to be cautious if she wanted to survive whatever this was. For all she knew, she could have been hallucinating and stranded in the snowy wilderness. “And dare I ask what you two are?”

Both of their eyes blinked at Yenna before they turned to face each other and then back to her.

“We are…” The two of them began to twirl before holding onto each other's hands. “The Winter Kingdom's finest Ice Scouts!”

The confusion on Yenna's face became more apparent as she watched them strike a pose. What in the world was she supposed to make of this? Winter Kingdom? Ice Scouts? Her reality seemed to be getting more bizarre by the second.

Before she could ask them more questions, pain filled her body once more. Her body felt like it was freezing from the inside out. She normally had a good tolerance to cold weather, so this was a threatening feeling. That stupid drug… she never should've taken it.

“Damnit… I can't feel—”

Her body collapsed onto the ground once again as her legs gave out beneath her. As she fell, the two Ice Scouts rushed to her side immediately. She couldn't quite hear what they were saying as everything became muffled. However she retained some consciousness and did not drift off so easily.

“Quick, Christina! We've got to give her the cloak!” one of them said while looking at her twin companion.

“Really? Her? But what if she ends up being a problem for the Winter Kingdom?”

“We'll figure that out later! But for now let's just wrap her up in it. Our king will know what to do when we bring her to him,” she replied confidently, having full trust in how he would handle the situation.

Yenna began to stir as she felt the coldness in her bones alleviate and her senses returning. Her eyes flickered back open and she immediately grabbed her arms, feeling new clothing on top of her work attire. It was soft, sleek and warm. A cloak that was now covering a good portion of her head and protecting it from the snowfall.

She did not waste time to question why this cloak felt like she was in the perfect climate and returned her gaze to the beings responsible for putting it on her. They seemed happy that she had recovered, but there was the slightest bit of wariness in their eyes.

“You said you have a king, correct? Could you bring me to him?” she asked them as they bobbed their heads in agreement.

“Of course, that was the plan!” They both spoke in unity as they took their places on each side of her. “Let us escort you safely. Then it'll be up to our king to decide what needs to be done.”

Yenna was not in any position to be arguing with them, so she went along with it. If there really was a king here and this wasn't a hallucination, it wasn't a bad idea to get close to someone who held power in this world. But honestly if she truly had the chance… No, terrible idea to try escaping from armed creatures she knew nothing about.

(Total word count: 2,578) If you enjoyed what you read, it helps motivation a lot if you like, comment on or reblog this post!

[that-gothickitty]

Gender identity and Pronouns ofc: Male, he/him, fae/faeself

Mbti type: INFP-T

A detailed description of your personality: Kind to everyone I meet but fiercely protective of those I care about, quick to give grace but strong sense of justice, can be vulgar/silly but know when to be quiet/pay attention, help my loved ones even to my own detriment

Likes: Writing, singing, theatre, reading, ASMR roleplays (obvi)

Dislikes: phone calls, spiders

Things you look for in a friend and/or partner: Honesty, open communication, sense of humor, kindness, showing interest in my interests

Thinks that are a deal breaker: Making fun of someone for something they can't change in 5 minutes, unnecessary lying, guilt tripping, manipulation, rude to servers, yah know murder *side eyes Tumblr Mother*

Pet peeves (When it comes to things and people): Dog earing books

A list of characters you relate to and why: Huxley's kindness and willingness to help, Damien's dislike of stereotypes and passion for making the world better than he found it, Sam's caring heart, Vincent, William, and Porter's flair for the dramatic, Guy's humor, David sense of justice, Gavin, just Gavin, Geordi's thought process,

Here's some stuff that isn't compulsory but definitely helps!

A physical description of yourself: Chin length brown hair, hazel eyes, 5', round face

Listener(s) you feel most connected to: Darlin', Freelancer Prime only please

Yippee! Okay, you're gonna get a giggle out of this one. This match was meant to be and it's just so perfect jsjshshsjh

Your match is:

Drumroll please 🥁

🥁

🥁

🥁

🥁

🥁

Our strong, loving, down to earth himbo...

HUXLEY!

Oho I guess this man definitely has a thing for Damiens, and you, my friend, are no exception.

You really hit the jackpot here, this man can literally do no wrong and will MAKE SURE no does any wrong around you. He admires your equal inclination to protect those you care about and your helpful nature. But don't get things twisted here, he will not stand by and let you neglect your needs. He will haul your ass in a fireman's carry and plop you on your couch to rest. And God help you if you try to protest, this man can and WILL sit on you.

He'd make a playlist about you. THERE I SAID IT! And knowing you, you already have one for him. I can see it being a cute lil thing where y'all go on a roadtrip to visit his moms and he puts it on and afterwards you play his and HEHGSHSHSHSHS IM GETTING CUTENESS AGGRESSION.

Speaking of his moms, they absolutely adore you! In a lot of ways, they see their son in you and it warms their hearts to see how you parallel each other so well. I hope you have a large appetite because these ladies can cook up a storm! Be prepared to be included in the process, and hopefully, you brought a change of clothes 'cause once the first handful of flour is thrown, you're in for a massive food fight ;>

PLEASE let this man put lil flowers in your hair. He'll get so goddamn happy at the prospect of decorating you with the finest blooms. Bro will giggle. He can't help it. You just look so handsome he can't contain himself.

Man is just whipped. He doesn't have to tone down around you or explain himself when he does something that makes him happy. You just get how he operates. He's so thankful that you understand his humor, his quips, his protective nature, everything. He's grateful that he can share so much with you and that you feel comfortable enough to do the same with him. And, he loves the fact that you two are so similar. It's what started your friendship in the first place.

At the end of the day, the only thing that matters is that you're both safe, happy, and protected. Deep down, he's so immensely grateful he's not the only one keeping things together.

[knight-rider-fan-2000]

Mutuality

Summary: Kitt freezes during situations that Michael is sure an AI touted to be smarter than he is shouldn't be freezing in. Michael takes this complaint to Bonnie and eventually to Kitt himself.

(Takes place early season 1)

Word count: 1774

“Bonnie, could you take a look at Kitt’s. . . I don’t know, situational awareness?”

Bonnie gave Michael a rather strange look and stood up from her chair. The debrief was over anyway, (Devon having just left), so it would make sense for her to be leaving, but the timing still felt threatening.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“Oh, just uh, something out during the last mission.”

“Like what?”

Okay, so maybe he’d skimped the full extent of the danger during his recount of mission events. “Well, you see, Kitt and I ended up off the roadway. We were racing towards certain doom for me and he seemed to. . . freeze up. I’m lucky I thought of a way to stop our momentum before we reached the cliffside. Isn’t he programmed to protect me from accidents?”

“A cliffside? How steep was the incline down to it?”

“Steep, trust me.”

“Too steep for the brakes?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“And you’re saying that Kitt wasn’t responding?”

“Well, he was, but he was only saying things like ‘look at that cliff’ and ‘that fall will kill you’. Real helpful stuff!” Michael snapped. “You said this car would protect me and he has so far, but if this kinda thing keeps up, I can’t be so sure anymore. So fix him, would you?”

Bonnie let her mouth fall open, before fixing her expression into a glare. “First of all, don’t use that tone with me.”

“Well sorry, but when my life is on the line-!”

“Second of all, you don’t know the full story, so before you go blaming Kitt for not being omniscient, why don’t you think long and hard about how you can prevent yourself from hurtling off cliffs in the future!”

Bonnie stormed from the office. Michael didn’t follow. Instead, he lingered around the main office. He’d already been settled into this new job for a few months now, but the mansion still held many surprises and interesting choices of decor. Not that he was that interested in furniture, but it was better than following too close to the fuming mechanic.

Eventually, though, his comm beeped. He answered it.

“Michael, could you come down to the garage for a moment?” Kitt’s voice came through.

“Is Bonnie asking for me?” 

“No, Bonnie isn’t here right now, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Michael ended the call. He paused for a good, long moment before he made his way to the main garage. Sure enough, Kitt was telling the truth. Bonnie was gone, leaving Kitt sitting alone, glimmering under the harsh ceiling lights.

“There you are. There’s a chair on the left for you, or you can sit inside my cabin. Whichever you prefer.” Kitt greeted him.

Michael forgot his anger for a moment and almost snorted at the idea of the chair. He shook his head and gestured to the driver door. Kitt opened it without a word and Michael slid in.

“Bonnie told me that you needed to be informed in greater detail of my abilities, specifically my processing capabilities, but first I wanted to apologize.”

Kitt’s interior lights were dimmed somehow, and Michael wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not. Either way, it made him feel guilty in a way that he didn’t understand. He found the button for controlling the dash lights and adjusted the interior back to its usual glow. 

“Apologize for what?”

“I’d been meaning to apologize ever since the incident, I just wasn’t sure how. I wasn’t sure how angry you would be and I was hoping that if I didn’t mention it, you would forget about it. You haven’t. Most dangers in your life you seem to ignore, but this one has rattled you more than you let on.” 

“We were hurtling off a cliff and you didn’t do a thing about it.”

“Which leads me into this discussion,” Kitt’s interior lights dimmed me again, “about my capabilities.”

“Did Bonnie fix you up?”

“There was nothing to fix. I’m operating exactly as I was intended to. Therein lies the problem. I’ll try not to get too technical, but Bonnie and I believe that helping you understand how it is that I operate will prevent further misunderstandings on missions.”

“So she put you up to this. She couldn’t even chew me out herself?”

“No, I was the one who suggested the idea.” Kitt said forcefully. “Bonnie did want to ‘chew you out’, as you say, but I didn’t want her to. You’re perfectly within reason for being upset at me and you deserve to know why. May I explain?”

Michael blinked once at the center console. In all their time together so far, Kitt never conceded to anything, at least never without significant arguing or teasing. After a few more moments of silence, he realized Kitt was waiting for his approval. He nodded.

Kitt wasted no time. “My operating system is heavily reliant on something called advanced machine learning. In essence, it allows me to learn from experience, similar to how a human would. It also allows me to react to situations outside of any programmed parameters, drawing on any relevant prior experiences to make the correct judgment.”

“Okay, yeah, you think like a human. Got it.” He nodded again.

“No, I don’t.” Kitt contradicted. “I think like a computer, because I am a computer. Such a learning matrix simply allows me to be constantly rewriting myself to fit with the situation at hand.”

“Sounds busy.” Michael cracked an attempt to lighten the mood, but Kitt did not seem to register his comment at all.

“Michael, I draw from previous experience and current inputs in order to make decisions. If one of those two things are lacking, then. . .”

Kitt’s voice faded out, something which disturbed Michael. He fought to suppress a shiver, and, before he knew it, he put a hand on the steering wheel.

“If one of those two things are lacking,” Kitt started again, “I can’t effectively respond to the situation at hand. I’m compromised. That’s what happened on our way to the cliffside the other day.”

Michael didn’t know what to say. He’d always known that he was the better one at improvisation, and that Kitt was a horrible guesser sometimes, but this. . . this didn’t seem right.

“I’m programmed with a variety of parameters to which I can rely on in a dangerous situation, but like any other computer, I’m limited to the oversight of my programmer in those scenarios.” Kitt’s voice tried to regain a more clinical tone, but it still grew quieter in volume. 

“. . . I see.” 

“I’ve gotten Bonnie to print out a manual that further details the exacts of my automated responses. I want you to read it so you know how I will respond in certain scenarios. Being prepared for my-”

“Kitt, I know you.” Michael interrupted. 

The AI was silent for a moment. “Knowing how I operate will-”

Michael couldn’t place it, but the way Kitt was talking about himself as if he was just another computer was just flat-out incorrect, so he spat, “No, I know you!”

Kitt’s voice modulator froze mid-flash before resuming its normal resting position. Michael put his other hand on the steering wheel and grasped it firmly.

“I don’t need to read about you in some manual,” he sighed, “because I know you. You’re my car. And now that we’ve had this little chat, I know a little bit more, so I’ll be prepared for next time.”

“But Michael, I don’t understand. My limitations put you in danger. Surely you’d want to know of all the other circumstances where my behavior could threaten your well-being?”

The words hurt worse than a well-placed gut punch, and Michael suddenly realized how stupid he’d been.

“You’re not a threat to me. If anything, my own human stupidity puts us in danger more than anything.” Michael lowered his hands from the steering wheel. “And just because you think a different way doesn’t mean it’s bad, or putting me in danger, or anything.”

“Go on.”

“I mean, you understand things and do things that I can’t wrap my head around. It’s the same for you then, right?”

“Correct, but-”

“Then it isn’t fair to ask you to be like I am. You’ve had to catch up on all my ‘human’ stuff; who’s to say I can’t adapt to all your. . .” Michael vaguely gestured to Kitt’s dashboard, “this.”

“Is that feasible? I mean, you’re certainly not my technician.”

“Partners cover each others’ weaknesses.” The assertion spilled out of Michael’s mouth before he even had a chance to think about it.

“I’m not supposed to have any.”

“Hey, I have to stay useful somehow.”

“I never meant to imply you weren’t.”

“Good! I’d have started to feel real out-classed if you did.” Michael patted the dashboard. “You’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours. Good chat?”

Kitt hummed. “Yes, Michael. ‘Good chat’.”

Michael smiled. He reached for the door handle, but before he could grab it the door opened the perfect amount to allow him to slide out. At some point, Kitt has learned his preference. Michael now wondered if there were little things about Kitt that he could learn in return. They were partners, after all, even if the idea of being partnered with a car still sat somewhat awkward in his head.

He paused in the doorway out of the garage and looked back at the black Trans Am. The molecular something-or-another bounced the light right off of its surface, but if he squinted he could perhaps see a bit of a smudge just off the hood.

“Say, you like getting waxed, right? Do cars like wax?”

“I don’t need such care. My molecular-bonded shell will never get a scratch.”

“Didn’t answer my question. Would you like it?”

“Can’t say. As I said, I’ve never needed such care. Though I suppose having such attention directed at my bodywork couldn’t be a bad thing.”

Michael shrugged, before turning back into the garage. “Let’s find out.”

—

Thirty minutes in, Bonnie entered the garage. She lost any huff she had about her. She jokingly scoffed at the rag he was holding, handed him a buffer that had been tucked away on one of the back shelves, and left.

Two hours later, Kitt emerged from the garage almost unbearably shiny. Michael had thought it impossible for a car to preen in sunlight, but Kitt was sure managing to make it seem that way. Was that overly imaginative? Maybe not.

“Now, let’s make sure to not go hurtling off any more cliffs, huh, partner?” Michael said.

“Partner. I do like how that sounds.”

“Me too. Me too.”