#the liquified remains of

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

I really wish the writers had further explored that ‘nutriment drink’ that the Inspector and Phil were served in ‘Frown’.

What was it *really* made of? Algae or the former inhabitants of the colony?

[ddejavvu]

hi hi, I loveee your animagus collection!! I was wondering if you could do one where reader appears all scratched up and injured cuz she got in a fight with another cat in her animagus form. thanks!!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

--

Sirius knows to expect your presence from your spot on the map that's moving hurriedly towards his dorm, a powerful stride from how you're blowing past other names quicker than they can step out of your way. He's glad that none of them seem to stop you or confront your seemingly abrasive speed, and he's equal parts curious and petrified when you finally burst through the door.

Most of it melts away though, heated and liquified and dripping into his stomach by a burning panic that seals itself around his heart and lungs instead.

Your face is scratched, lines of blood-red crust slowly darkening the more you expose them to the air. He's sure they'd dried and scabbed quickly as you'd stormed through the castle to find him, and he's worried they're contaminated before he's had the chance to clean them out.

"Darling," He stands abruptly, noticing similar scratches across the rest of you, and even a bite mark, pinpricks of violence and spit laid into your arm like twin red flags, "What- what happened to you?"

"I got in a fight," You grumble, and for all of the enthusiasm you'd had storming into the room, you stand there now, letting it leak out of you like air from a balloon that had once been close to popping.

"With who?" Sirius's brain does not register the conflicting statements; how a punch to the eye could result in fang prints in your forearm.

"Muffy," You spit the cat's name like a dirty word, emphasizing it's dull stuffiness, "She came and sat in my sunspot, and I was gonna let her share it, too, but then she started bitching at me to move!"

Sirius's limbs loosen from where they'd been locked tightly in place, and he remains standing where he has been all this time, watching you explain your tussle with astonished curiosity written on his face.

"I didn't, but then she started batting at me," You recall with bitter disdain on your tongue, the same sting that you'd felt when the other cat's claws had sunk into your fur, "Before I knew it, she was just going at me, like- like some fucking animal! Well- like- like some other kind of animal."

Sirius steps forwards to take your arm in his own, and inspect the only bite mark he can see. It's angry and vicious, though it doesn't look like there's blood seeping from it anymore, and he makes a mental note to disinfect all of your abrasions in case Muffy had indulged in something unsanitary for breakfast.

"I'm sorry, darling." Sirius says, both because he means it and because he doesn't know what else to say. It's teetering on the edge of absurdity that you managed to scrap with a cat and come away looking like you'd lost, and he wonders if you'd fled the scene on four paws, or two legs. Both would be comical to him if you weren't hurt, so he pushes the thoughts out of his head and steers you into the bathroom by what he hopes is an uninjured shoulder.

He sits you on the counter with ease, and from the hiss that you let out, the cool marble bites at the scrapes on the backs of your thighs. But they seem to mellow into a soothing effect, and you relax into them, your flesh flattening out as Sirius rummages through the cabinet below.

"Muffy's quite vicious," Sirius muses, rubbing disinfectant on a cut along your cheek, "This one might scar."

You groan, the sound nearly gruff enough to be a growl, "Oh, get her back for me Sirius, would you?"

"Get her back-?" His raven-black brows furrow, and he glances away from the cut up a few inches to your eyes, "What do you mean, darling?"

"I mean you're a big scary guard dog," You push pleadingly at his shoulder, "Just- snap your jaws at her, or something! Please?"

"I'm not sure Prewett would like it very much if I traumatized her cat," Sirius muses guiltily, but he's persuaded when you let loose the most devastatingly gut-wrenching pair of puppy eyes that he's ever seen, far more powerful than anything even his canine form could produce.

"Oh, fine," He sighs, his lips finding purchase at the bridge of your nose, in an awkward crevice between your brow-split and your eye, "Darling, you know I love you, but next time, please tussle with a cat that isn't so terrifying?"

[mattastr0phic]

Dr. ████ Myriad - Naturalist, Shapeshifter, SCP-963's Host

Personnel File - Easier to read Personnel File - Tag

Summary bits under the cut!

Dr. Myriad is the host to SCP-963, an indestructible amulet that, when direct skin contact is broken with it, instantly kills the culprit. At this point, the deceased's form and memories right before death are recorded inside SCP-963, both accessible by Dr. Myriad, who may shapeshift into any recorded subjects at will.

In the event of Dr. Myriad's death, her body will completely liquify into a viscous mass of flesh and retreat into SCP-963 for a healing period in which his Primary body is reformed wearing it, taking about 1-2 hours. During this period, a slit shape will appear in the ruby of SCP-963, which Dr. Myriad is able to view their surroundings from.

Dr. Myriad itself finds great freedom in self-expression through the shapeshifting abilities of SCP-963, though struggles to come to terms with its side effect of immortality. Outbursts due to stress have manifested in off-the-grid escapades, pranks, and in some extreme cases, containment breaches, but the extra energy is currently being funneled into their work. Many coworkers find them still quite agreeable and easy to work with despite these outbursts. Dr. Myriad utilizes its shapeshifting to assess the behavior of their assigned SCPs, most often plants, animals, and the occasional sentient object. They have been essential in understanding the processes of several SCPs, especially those with intricate social structures. Any concerns the Doctor has with containment procedures WILL be addressed by it, regardless of authority rule. While Dr. Myriad's loyalty to Foundation regulations is questionable at best, she is still a great asset to any site under threat due to past Field Agent training, flexibility in threat assessment, and lack of self preservation while protecting others. She could escape the Foundation on her own if she wanted to. But still, they remain. They have something still keeping them there. Or someone.

[nn-ee-zz]

What are your other OC's like? I'm interested in hearing about the stories you came up with for them.

UH OH youre gonna get me talking!

My OCs are NPCs by origin. I was (still am) the DM of my friend group and to get their characters moving along I had to create my own.

Unexpectedly, my friends loved them.

ILYA - unwell henchman

i know its a boys name,

An aiding hand to an ambiguous villain, Ilya was introduced as sneaky, smiling, and untrustworthy. The facade collapsed once she vomited inside a cup after accidentally touching the liquified remains of (unbeknown to her) her younger sibling. The villain is a wizard of great power and transported all the liquid from their body to put out a fire, mummifying and killing the person in the process in an attempt to save several.

She seeks her sibling amongst the city. The tingling awareness of their demise at the hands of the guild she encouraged them to join and growing panic and grief led her to start a fight with someone who is spiraling as well.

She ends up at the local clinic, heavily injured and minus one eye, and spirals further from her injuries, her guilt, and the knowledge her family was correct about her being too mentally fragile to be in the city. Until....

(For now. The overall arc for this character is of recovery and improvement instead of pain and self-destruction. Forgive your past and find value within you that goes beyond self-sacrifice. With the help of others, of course.)

Despite her questionable moral position, a lot of characters feel the need to protect her.

Art - Her wearing another characters shirt and her getting a widdle kiss from said character, because even I (the monster freak artist) have my lovely ships

ED - emo organ trafficker

''Nez, I want my oc to be kidnapped and rescued by another oc'' ''Hm, I'll make up a guy to kidnap them then''

Originally meant to be a minor antagonist that would kidnap a character to harvest their organs and be easily defeated. Villain of the week type.

However, his snarky behavior, violent temperament, fancy victorian-boy-esque looks captured a lot of attention. He is a little freak but his direct words seem to bring out a lot of honesty in other characters.

Fun facts; His name is inspired by Edward Hyde. He is roomates and best friend/adopted sibling to Ilya. He makes an effort to be fancier than he is because he was born a bastard child and forced to be his fathers servant before he murdered his siblings and father and joined the army to escape (where he met ilya and ultimately got adopted into her family <333)

Art - Him, and him as a chibi fighting the guy who rescued the person he kidnapped. They also fall in love

REDD - funny bully

I recently made an oc just to mess around with the players while they were in jail! Well, now one of them drank his blood and is forever connected to him. The other one got her finger broken cuz she poked him. He also had the prision keys the entire time but pretended to be a prisioner as well. What a menace! I love making horrible pests. His name is red cuz thats how the others refered to him, because I described him as having red hair and red eyes.

Isnt it funny how despite being a DM I never use my monster designs?! I find it a lot more interesting to make characters specifically meant to alter the course of the character development of my players. I love to change deeply and irrevocably! : D

[soongtypehuman]

Boo-hoo update

I’m sorry to say I have an update I was hoping to not ever have to make. Some of you already know that I have some serious health issues, but I've been pretty quiet about the extent of what I'm dealing with.

The gist of it is that I have a rare bone disease called fibrous dysplasia that turned certain bones in my skull into tumors and then those tumors grew inward and started crushing my brain, so I had a craniotomy last year to remove as much as was safe and got a cool new titanium implant in my head to replace the removed bone/tumor. The unfortunate result was encephalomalacia, which is the end stage of liquifying necrosis, and now part of my brain is liquid instead of solid (it’s dead, in a nutshell). Most people don’t survive encephalomalacia, much less remain able to function, and most who survive the initial stage don’t survive the three year mark. Even when you do survive it, it often continues spreading. The last MRI showed it had already taken over about 1/3 of my brain. But I’m a stubborn asshole and am still hanging on.

Unfortunately, things aren’t getting better.

I have to have constant MRIs, EEGs, physical and cognitive therapies, and have been on more meds than I’d like to be in order to control seizures and various cognitive issues. I didn’t mention this before, but I had to go through a series of speech therapies just to learn to talk properly again. And the most unfortunate part of this is that my ability to write has been affected. Since the surgery over a year ago, I’ve only made 10 new posts in the Positronic Rivalry series, totaling around 87k words. For reference, I posted over 200k words in 2022. I’ve posted even less this year, and it’s not improving.

With that said, I have to take a step back. I’m not quitting and I’m not walking away from the fandom. I’d like to think I’ll still be able to post here and there. I just don’t know when and under what circumstances that will happen. I most certainly can’t handle the longer multi-chapter fics I once could. Maybe one day, but not this day. Since I started posting on AO3 back at the end of 2021, I’ve posted every Sunday more often than not. I’m sorry to say I can’t make that happen right now, and can’t say when I’ll post again or what it will be. I won't be able to continue with season 4.

But I’m most definitely not leaving the fandom and the people and the characters I love so much. I’ll still be here interacting and posting when I’m able. This fandom and the people in it are incredible and mean a lot to me. Data and Lore and Star Trek in general are integral to my life and general enjoyment.

But!! I’ve nearly completed compiling seasons 1-3 of Positronic Rivalry as well as 2022/23 Kinktobers into files that will be ready to print in physical book format (completely free, obviously), which I’ll make available for everyone to download in various print sizes, complete with covers, which you can then have printed at various POD sites if you’re so inclined. Digital versions will also be available (you can already download various formats from AO3, but they’re not compiled into seasons, don’t have covers, etc.).

I’m also continuing with the Trek-themed crossword puzzles because those are fun and my therapist thinks making them is good for my cognitive rehab.

This update is a massive bummer for me, but I felt it was better to just admit my limitations instead of constantly trying to convince myself that I could continue the way I had been pre-surgery and beating myself up when I couldn’t.

Lastly, I’ve finally taken the suggestion I’ve gotten repeatedly and set up a KoFi. If you’d like to buy me a coffee or toss a coin to your android porn witcher, you can do so right here and I’d be giggling and kicking my feet in gratitude.

Anyhow, I want to thank all of you for being amazing and coming along on this ride with me for as long as you have, and for as long as it might continue in whatever form it takes.

[theanimekid]

Betrayal/ The Veil of Shadow found the new ruler

Synopsis: Love is not eternal, betrayal; cuts deeper than a scar. Now you'll be harmed no longer. You'll be loved once more. Embrace destiny, walk the veil, and rule as a Dark Queen.

Warnings: Monster, angst, sci-fi, blood, betrayal, heartbreak, death,

Shadow owes its birth to light- John Gay

“Love isn’t soft like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.” ― Stephen King, The Body

A/n: This will be about two or three chapters long, so grab some coffee, a blanket, and a couple of tissues, make that a couple boxes of tissue

Chapter 1: The Beginning and End

You will never feel pain again. You'll never feel hurt or suffering. You… will never experience betrayal… for now it was the last time… the last straw.

The Strom fumed in spikes of crimson and light-blue lighting. The chaos of thunderstorms rumbled the sky, buildings of merged flesh and bone carved into each like a deathly art, screams were heard for miles, screeching of the bats not living nor dead. As their dark sparks waved into the night. You stood, outside of your castle, watching the depths below, your body shrouded in mystery and despair. Your veil flew with the wind, eyes cold-hearted, broken no more, vengeance craving for suffering. Skin darker than a shade of navy blue. The might of the doors opened slowly, and a black substance moved within. It was quick and swift. Faster than the human eyes can catch.

It soon emerged with its fingertips skimming fingertips. Its purple hood covered its top face. He spoke in a canny yet diabolical fashion. "My Empress... the time has come," It said, As it played with its fingertips rhythmically. You turned to look at your advisor, your eyes sharpened, lowly. " Already?" You asked in a heartache and pitied tone. " I'm afraid yes, a newcomer has been seen in the human world, young and frail as he is, yet more fearful than the rest." The hand movement swayed and urged as his words, Walked away from the highland view. past your blackened throne so lonely and purposeless. Your advisor walked with you down the very, elongated hallway. Your soldiers lined up and bowed to you. "They're the same as always, Urmas."

"They live to benefit you, my beloved empress, as they will always be." He replied in assurance. The two walked for what seemed like a while and reached the end of the hallway. You stopped. Urmas stopped with you. His expression spread with little concern for his queen. " Is there something the matter, my sovereign?" You still stood there staring blankly at the door. " I-I- feel like I've been here before."

Urmas Cleared his throat. " Can you recall, my sovereign?" You shook your head, " I don't know, but yet at the same time, it feels as though." You turned to your advisor, offering your hand to him. Urmas instantly clutched it and held it to his hand. You beamed maliciously, teeth in all, "let's go raise bloodstained nightmare on humanity and make a world for my own." He smiled back." As you wish, my sovereign." The doors opened to a giant glass sphere, spiraling out of different stirs and harmonies. The two of you walked hand in hand. As you got closer to your glass sphere, lightly grazing the outer layer. Urmas walked on the other side of the figure.

The sphere's outer layer moved fluidly, liquifying. Your hand sunk into the glass sphere. Your eyes dilated, turning into a purplish pink. Your vision became severed as you gaze upon the human world into the brightness of the city. Your eyes searched and looked unnoticed. Til you found a little boy with glasses wandering down a dark alley. Frightened and alone, tight where you wanted him. 

You planted his fear into his mind, it took only mere moments before he was nothing more than paste. And a small portal of flesh emerged from the brick wall, pulsating quietly like a heartbeat for an ear to listen. His body remained dismembered and fractured. His eyes plucked out of their sockets. Your eyes blurred again, returning to normalcy. With a sigh of satisfaction, you removed your hand from the sphere. Urmas clapped his hands in applause. " Another astounding work my sovereign," He feted. You walked away from the sphere and headed towards the door. You tumbled to the floor, holding both sides of your head, Your head began to hurt. Screaming in pain as your advisor tried to assist you. Your vision contradicted with light, a picnic on the hill, a man standing next to you with a loving gaze, his hand reaching out to you, calling to you…

You gasped as you raised your head. Your body trembling, your advisor slowly got you back on your feet. "My empress, are you all right?" He questioned. You sighed, bobbing your head left and right. " I-I'm fine... I just, need to rest my eyes." 

*Back on Earth*

One of his shadow soldiers, sat on top of a nearby building, looking down upon its people and others. The shadow sighed in questionable purpose. It's been the fifth time this past year. The visions He saw, his queen in danger, screaming and sobbing for help, it's like an unending loop. Constantly, she was reaching out to him, calling to him...

His master emerged from the wall, Beru and Igris followed soon after, and his black coast got longer and ragged. He stopped at the edge. Sung turned his gaze toward his summon. " Is there a reason why you're not doing your patrol?" The soldier got up and kneeled before his master. " Forgive me, my king... but it feels like something has been bothering me." He didn't even bother looking upon his master. Thinking he will not believe him." And what has been bothering you?" Sung asked. He collected himself and explained clearly and carefully, not to anger him, " Lately, since the past year, I have been seeing visions... visions that I wish I could ignore, but it just couldn't." Sung knelt to his soldier's eyes. " Look at me, and tell me what you saw." The shadow soldier took a deep breath and looked dead into his king's eyes. " I saw... a woman in white, she was surrounded by black waters, she was slowly drowning, but no end. I was going to save her, but she started to cry, sobbing, calling out your name, and others. She turned to look at me, her face was recognizable... my king... I believe... that our queen is alive and needs your help."

Sung's eyes slowly widened, and he can feel his heart wailing out of his chest. She can't be... he watched her... if she is then why...

Beru and Igris can feel the energy around him growing. With his body trembling, he gripped his soldier's shoulders. " Are you... you 100 certain that's..." He nodded in response. Sung can feel his whole world collapse around him. You were alive, alive and alone, scared. " Did you anything else from your visions? Or where she could be? Did she tell you where to find her?" He started asking a million questions. But his soldier only gave him one and a solution. " She said to locate the portal where no man or light can find. The opposite of all worlds... Find the seer. And that's all I can remember." 

The search for the seer begins.

Part 2 in the making👍

[333creolelady]

Lady Of The Blue Bakunawa Ch. 5

Black Afab! OC x Roman Reigns (Pirate Au)

Warnings: Moody Roman, Feisty Jane, Arguing , Cursing, cunnilingus, overstimulation.

Songs this chapter: Young love, Yumeji’s theme, Your hands are cold

Alternative playlist songs: Polly, Green eyes, Lights on.

Story cover by @joannasteez

Spotify playlist link here <-

Alternative playlist link <-

Next -> chapter 6

<- Back to Masterlist

All reblogs will recieve a snippet of next weeks chapter.

3 weeks later….

Jane

“ Never take your eye off your opponent”, Adhar warns.

“ Okay”, said Jane as she steadied herself.

“ Just a moment of unfocus and you could end up with a sword sheathed in your gut. It’s how Roman was able to take out Captain Night’s eye”, says Adhar.

“ Ugh don’t remind me”, Jane shivers.

“ Also, don’t pick up a sword unless you're willing to do the unthinkable. If someone is coming at you with a weapon they’ve usually weighed the consequences of killing you. It’s up to you to defend yourself. Night and Roman’s battle was ongoing for almost fifteen years. I don’t think they truly wanted to kill each other until you were involved”, Adhar takes her sword ending the lesson for the day.

Jane appeared puzzled. “Why didn’t they kill each other before?”

“ I’m not sure. To be honest I think it was a game to the both of them. Roman kept him alive out of spite and so did Night. But then you came and…well.”

Jane remained in deep thought. It had been a few weeks since their kiss and the tension had grown between the two of them. Roman hadn’t made any advancements onto her again and she didn’t know how to ask. The hand holding in private still happened but something had fizzled out. She suspected it was because Roman had seen her interactions with Adhar.

Everytime she brought up Adhar he’d grow short and flat. Adhar wasn’t really a flirt, just really cheeky. However, she was sure that Adhar was just a friend. His cheekiness was often misconstrued for flirting and since she was a woman it was assumed that he was attracted to her. In the past weeks of their training she’d come to realize that Adhar was already missing a love. A girl named Kita from back home. The two of them had gotten to know each other better and he’d spoken briefly on his life before piracy. He had a lover and he was exiled from his community. He never got to see Kita again. Adhar’s demeanor was an attempt to chase away his sadness. Ever since then, Jane understood him better.

So when Adhar stood behind her to adjust her grip on the handle of her sword she didn’t panic. Roman caught the two of them a few times during their sessions. This time was no different as he strolled past them on the wind deck heading for his quarters.

Adhar grabs the sword from Jane,“ Why don’t we stop for the day? I’m sure Caden needs your help by now and Roman is shooting me daggers”, Adhar chuckled.

“ Yes, I’m on for lunch preparation. I’ll see you later. Thanks for the lesson”, Jane straightened her apron and headed down to the kitchen.

Caden, John and Allen all worked tirelessly prepping lunch. Lunch was usually left overs from the night's previous dinner. Although no serious cooking was involved, food had to be reheated and distributed to many men. She put on her chef's hat and scrubbed her hands before firing up the stove. Root stew from last night needed boiling and it was now a gelatinous mess waiting to liquify.

“ We don’t have enough for everybody. Caden, can you go in the pantry and pull out the bread for the sandwiches. It’ll have to be half and half to last them until dinner.”

“ Didn’t you hear Jane—-there’s a celebration tonight. There is no dinner except for what we find inland”, said Caden. He makes quick work of laying pieces of bread out to be buttered.

Jane

“ A celebration ?”

“ Ay’, it’s celebration for the ship. Cap’n gained something better when we got the Night star. We still have to dock for some repairs. It’ll only be for the night then back at it in the morning. Not only that but it’s the March solstice. It’s the start of the new season where night is no more. To not celebrate would be bad luck for the land and sea”, Says Caden.

“ I’m not much of a party person”, Jane shrugged.

“ I figured as much. I’ll bring you back something nice. Don’t tell anyone but Roman gave me these”, Caden held his pocket out to reveal 20 gold shillings.

“ Woah…. rich man. Remember me when you buy your big house”, Jane joked.

“ Never M’lady”, Caden smiled as he assembled the sandwiches.

“ Caden where are your parents ?”, Jane asked curiously.

“ Wow nice pivot Jane”, Caden snorted.

Jane winced. “ Oh sorry. I didn’t mean to be pushy. It’s just…you’re a young boy. It breaks my heart to see you do so much on your own. It’s why I asked Roman to let me help out.”

“ Well my mom died from the blue death when I was about 12. My father passed away from smallpox a few months later. Funnily enough they created a vaccine a year after he passed. What luck”, Caden shrugged.

“ I’m sorry”, Jane frowned.

“ S’alright. It’s life. I didn’t suffer for long. Things got better for me.”

“ How did you meet Roman ?”

“ Well when I lost my parents I became an orphan so I was sent away to nuns. I kept getting into trouble and running away. The nuns were harsh….they believed in rough punishments. It was hard for me to get used to it. My dad was a gentle and kind man. My mother was patient. I’d never been spanked by an adult before let alone slapped. It didn’t just stop there though. It got worse. I just wanted to work and be an adult. Looking back I realize that was a bit foolish but.. I met Roman hiding in a port. He gave me coins and bought me food. He kept asking me questions but I wouldn’t budge. He was visiting town for a few days and every night I would be in the same hiding spot. I guess he figured that If someone cared they would have found me by then. Anyhow, he took me in and I thought he was gonna teach me how to be a pirate. That I would learn the sword —get big muscles and be scary like him. Imagine my surprise after the first 2 days on the ship he places a book in my lap. A stinkin’ book”, Caden scoffs. Jane laughs at that.

“ That sounds like him”, Jane grinned.

“ Oh yeah. He said he wouldn’t teach me how to sword until I finished the book. A dictionary of all things. I couldn’t read very well. He taught me the alphabet again which took about a week. Then I had to learn the sound of the alphabet which took another week. Then we started reading the dictionary and guess how long it took me. Just guess ?” Caden crossed his arms in a challenge.

“ Uh…a week?”, Jane spoke with hopefulness.

“ Three Bloody MONTHS”, Caden flailed his arms.

“ Roman thought you deserved some semblance of an education. That’s a good thing. It’s more than most people get …trust me”, Jane smiled admirably despite wanting to laugh.

“ Yes and it was awful. Eventually I was able to start my position as a cabin boy 6 months after joining the ship. It took time learning how to address Roman.”

“ I’m sure you’re better for it”, said Jane. She was shocked to know the lengths Roman went for Caleb. Someone in his position wouldn’t really care about providing basic needs for a child he didn’t know. It’s not like Caleb was his child… but yet he did.

“ He took me to the doctor. Apparently I had scurvy and was rattleboned. I mean I was every bit of a flea ridden mutt at that point but Roman took care of it all. Then he’d send me to work and I could only refer to him as Captain. I don’t think he likes his affection to be witnessed by other people very much. I know Roman cares about me like family but he’d never say it and he wouldn’t want it to be discussed with others. The funny thing is we all know that Roman is good to the crew and has made accommodations for many of us when asked but we never really say anything about it to each other. It’s just…known ”, Caleb pondered as he added meat to the bread.

“ Roman can be a very sweet and gentleman. I’ve been introduced to that side of him and I’m grateful for it. I’m not sure I like the other side quite yet”, she pondered as she remembered his knife slicing through the skull of his mortal enemy Night.

“ Ay’ but he’s a pirate after all. He can’t be nice all the time otherwise nobody would be scared of him. I mean his name alone is a nightmare to some people. It’s what keeps us safe. Plus other pirates would probably think him a joke for taking in some ol’ kid.”

“ He’s a person. As kind and cruel and ever changing as all of us. No matter how hard his peers try to hide their humanity they are still slaves to their flesh. People are people..the way I see it”, Jane nods.

“ Well when you put it like that I’m glad I got one of the nicer pirates. Not the kind that use their cabin boys as jesters and pets”, Caden frowned.

“ Me too”, Jane shivered thinking about her encounter with Nights crew. She’d thank the stars for running into civilized pirates.

“ Sometimes…it feels like he’s my father and other times he’s my big brother. Other times…he’s an ass.”

“ Haven’t met the ass quite yet”, Jane laughed.

“ And you won’t. That’s reserved for nuisances only. Take 10 minutes. I need to speak with her”, Roman sighed in annoyance startling them both.

Caden rolled his eyes and dropped one of the half made sandwiches back on the counter. John and Allen left, following behind the young boy.

“ Hi”, Jane looked up at his tall frame. He was dressed down today in baggy slacks, socks and a baggy cotton shirt half unbuttoned. His hair was pulled up in a bun that seemed slept in. She noticed his beard looked a bit cleaner. She lifted her hand to feel it and playfully tugged it.

“ Did you cut it ?”

“ Not much. Just a small trim.”

“ I like your beard.”

“ Oh I couldn’t tell by how much you yank it every chance you get”, he said with an slightly annoyed yet humorous tone.

“ Sorry”, she smirked playfully before lowering her hand. Despite his obvious moodiness she could see a ghost of a smile on his delicious lips. She contemplated asking for a kiss.

“ As you know there’s a celebration tonight which means that we probably won’t be able to have dinner together. There’s someone I have to meet who has information about where to find the key to the treasure. There’s an entirely different map for the key. I likely won’t be back until late”, says Roman.

“ Oh…Alright. I guess I’ll just read then.”

“ If you’re still awake past midnight, come to my door. We can have a drink.”

“ You excused everybody out of the room just to tell me that ? I’m disappointed”, she teased.

“ Well there was another thing as well but…”, Roman broke eye contact hinting at a sense of guilt. Jane honed in on it.

“ Spit it out”, she taunted.

“ Why….did you ask adhar to teach you sword?”

“ I’m not sure…I’m very comfortable with adhar. He doesn’t make me anxious.”

“ So I make you anxious?”

“ At times yes. For good reasons..”, she whispered. Romans eyes faltered. He paused.

“ Why?”, said Jane.

“ I don’t think that he should be the one to teach you. In fact…I don’t think that you should be using a sword at all in my humble opinion.”

“ Nice to meet you ass.”

“ Now wait I—- “

“ I have to finish making lunch if you don’t mind”, Jane blurted before Roman could get his words out.

“Jane”, Roman blurted at her back that was now turned to him. She didn’t answer. He puffed out an audible sigh and walked away. Why did he have to piss her off while looking his best?

She wasn’t sure if Roman’s comment came from a manly or jealous place. He allowed Alice a high position on the ship despite her gender, so she surmised he was jealous. Still, there was nothing a man could do or say that surprised her. She’d learnt lessons to last her a lifetime regarding the actions of males. It did however slightly disappoint her. If Roman really watched the interactions between Adhar and herself then he would see just how well they got along. He would see that he makes her laugh and really helps with her comfort around some of the other men. They laughed like siblings and gossiped like sisters. There was not an inkling of true romantic or sexual attraction between the two of them. As she served lunch and cleaned behind herself she got angrier and angrier. Roman had officially disappointed her and being sidetracked by it made her even more upset.

The day rolled on like it always does. She mopped the deck with Caden, finished laundry, cleaned bedding and washed her own clothes. Jane had a peculiar sense of melancholy that lasted until nightfall. Most of the men ended up leaving for the night. With the ship left with only a few stragglers, she had a quiet dinner on the wind deck. Caden and Adhar left together in pursuit to find some expensive fighting gear and she wished them luck.

She noticed Roman had finally stepped out of his cabin to head into the city. He briefly nodded to her in acknowledgment and walked down the ramp leading from the ship to the sand. She didn’t bother returning the gesture; instead she watched his hulking frame disappear into a crowd of drunk and happy people socializing on the shoreline. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

The urge for a concerningly long bath with fancy oils and soaps came over her. She tried a new scented lotion and attempted a new hairstyle. She picked out a fancy night gown and shaped up her eyebrows with tweezers. Pampering herself was becoming a new routine for her and she drew it out as long as she could. There was something cathartic about it but eventually she found herself bored again. She wished Caden was here to make her laugh. With no other chores to fulfill she headed down to the dimly lit kitchen and cut herself two slices of dried fig cake. She took it to her room with her alongside half a pitcher of lemonade.

She placed a napkin in her lap to catch any crumbs. Just as she was getting ready to dig in with her fork, a knock sounded from her door.

“ One second”, she called out, removing the napkin and resting the fork on the plate.

She scurried to the door and opened it to find Earl, looking his usually scruffy and round self. He held a board in his hand and looked around nervously.

“ M-M’lady…I’m sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you’d like to partake in a game of chess with me? Allen usually plays with me but he’s at the pub”, Earl said in a tingue of a British and German accent. His face reddened when he took in her night gown.

“ Oh …you’re not bothering me at all. It’s just that I don’t really know how to play…”, Jane shrugged.

“ I can teach you. It’s fairly simple. I’ve been playing it for a long time”, Earl pearched up.

“ Okay well why don’t we play in the mess hall. I’ll be down in a moment”, Jane said smiled.

“ Very well”, Earl flashed her a bright smile and waddled down to the third floor. She brought her two slices of cake and lemonade to the table as he set up the chess pieces. The two ate cake as Earl taught her the logistics. She couldn’t think of a better way to end the march solstice.

Roman

Roman treads through the streets of a famous port, boots crackling against loose pebbles and dirt. It was dreary. This had to be his least favorite place to dock because the weather was shit. Port Plado, home of the drunks, fucked weather and scam artists. He made his way into the pub after a five minute walk. Upon entering he was hit with a waft of beer, sex, sweat and smoke. The cheering from the men in the room quieted when he entered. The women however were bold as ever. A woman with thick curly brown hair, pale skin and ruby lips swayed over to him with one breast hanging out from her bustier.

“ Fancy a Frenchy my big pirate?”, purred the harlot taking her hand and rubbing it up and down his arm. Roman turned away gently.

“ I’m spoken for ”, he throws blandly over his shoulder heading for an outdoor leading to a dimly lit hallway. Moans, screams and yelling reverberated off the walls. He finally reached the end of the hallway and opened the door. At the wooden table sat a withered old man with tan skin, white long dreadlocks, milky eyes and a fragile short body. His fingernails were black and he wore gold rings on each finder. A thump of his Tobacco spit hitting the bottom of a can echoed across the empty room.

“ Ah….Roman. Surprised to see you here. And here I thought you were smart enough to heed my warning. Let me guess…you want the map?”, he said.

“ Crane…been awhile”, Roman stalked up to the table with the old man and sat. He removed his hat and poured himself a glass of ale.

“ You’re fuckin’ right it’s been awhile. A decade”, the old man snorted.

He shrugged. “ Give or take”, said Roman.

The old man crossed his arms and leaned back into his wooden chair. “ Well you already know what I’m going to say.”

Roman remained unflinching. “ Name your price”.

“ What you’re doing is foolish boy…”

Roman sighed leaning back in his seat as well. “ Price..”

“ You first.”

“ 10,00 shillings.”

Cranes brow rose in defense. “ I’d imagine that a navigators knowledge is a little bit more valuable than that. Come on.”

Roman could feel irritation running a finger up his spine. He clears his throat and repositions himself in an attempt to shake the annoyance away.

“ After all….without me you can kiss ever finding that treasure goodbye.”

Romans anger peaks. With how shitty the last two weeks had been, he underestimated just how moody he really was. He swiftly pulls out his pocket knife and stabs it between the gap of cranes fingers, lodging the knife into the wooden table. Crane jumps back in shock.

“ If you could go ahead and name your price so I can get off this shit hole of an island I would appreciate it. I’m not in a very good mood”, Roman seethes quietly, briefly pulling his knife back into its sheath.

Crane holds his hands up in surrender, his smirk returning to his face. The pair were never fond of each other. Many pirates had come to know Crane because he was a navigator. Navigators were valuable assets and were often rented for voyages due to their knowledge of the stars. The problem is that none of the men lived to find that key. The navigator's knowledge was photographic and each time he lost a map he could make a new one. Rumor has it, his old crew made an attempt to find the key and he was the only one who survived the trip.

“ 30 thousand shillings”, Crane spat.

Roman furiously dug into his pocket and held up a brown satchel.

“ There is something you’re not telling me. You will not receive this until you give all the additional information about this quest. Something that will actually help us…clues.”

“ It’s a suicide mission anyhow. What would I possibly know? I hold no treasure of my own. What more can I say to help?”

“ Crane…”, Roman warned.

“ The creature that holds this key is as old as time. The place that holds the creature will reveal itself to you but if your heart is not pure you will be destroyed. That means that there is no turning back. You may reach your destination but there is no guarantee that you will have the option to leave. So that should tell you that NO man was deemed worthy enough to claim the key as his.”

“ And you know how ?”

“ Stories of course…the same stories that made you believe that you could find that treasure.”

“ Creature…elaborate.”

“ There is not much that I know. All I know is that there will be a test. You may have a better chance at receiving the key with the likes of a woman or a child.”

“ Because ?”

“ It has a fascination for them or so I hear. Now give me the bloody money”, crane sighed. Roman dropped the bag on the table and flicked it over to crane. The old man eagerly opened it up and counted the coins. It was all there. Crane grabbed an old folded up piece of paper from his pocket and slid it to Roman the same way he slid the satchel. Roman opened it to reveal 10 corddinates.

“ Pleasure doing business with ya’”, Crane tipped his hat and went back to chewing his Tobacco.. Roman stood up and placed his hat back on before making his way to the ship.

Jane

Adhar and Caden had returned happier than ever. Caden bought himself a new coat made from the finest materials, alongside a necklace with a heart shaped silver locket. She gushed about it and thanked him profusely. Adhar had bought himself a new sword and it was absolutely magnificent. She held the sword and watched its shine bounce off the moonlight.

“ It’s so light to be so big ?”, Jane gasped.

“ Means it’s well made”, said Adhar.

More of Roman’s crew came singing on the ship, clearly drunk. They brought a group of musicians on the ship and started dancing with some of the woman they’d surely spend the night with. Adhar grabbed the hand of a brunette girl and danced with her like the dozens of other pirates who had taken a lady for the night. Jane clapped on beat with the drum beats watching her friend dance. Caden offered her to dance and with hesitancy she accepted, spinning around crazily with her friend. She giggled like a maniac, feeling the wind in her hair and underneath her dress.

“Not a party person?”, Caden laughed as he spun with Jane.

“ I’m not”, jane giggled. She let out a soft squeal as Caden passed her to Adhar to dance. Her forehead fell onto Adhar’s shoulder as she tried to catch her breath from laughing so hard. Then suddenly she saw him standing there, brooding, tall and wide. He looked pissed and it stopped her in her tracks. The music seemed to screech at a halt when Roman’s presence was noticed.

“ You lot take that back down to the beach. Some of us like to sleep”, Roman snapped before stalking into his cabin. The shift in the mood changed as the gathering party walked back down the ramp, clutching their playthings to their sides. The mood was ruined.

“ I’ll see you in the morning Jane”, Caden waved as he walked back with everyone else.

Jane was seeing red. Roman was acting like an absolute prick and she surprised even herself as she stomped over to his door and flung it open. She walked inside on a mission. A single candle light illuminated the room and it was more cluttered than usual but not dirty. Still unusual for him.

“ And just what is the matter with you ?!”, Jane snapped.

Roman stood from his desk holding his books and taking them over to the book shelf.

“ I beg your pardon?”, he said with his back turned.

“ Don’t play coy. What’s wrong NOW ?”, Jane snorted.

“ You”, he says quietly.

“ Me ? “

“ Yes —you”, he snapped. His body language turned defensive as he crossed his arms. She slowly closed the space between them.

“ What have I done ?”

“ Jane look, I’m not in the mood for this right now. Enjoy yourself. I have things to do”, Roman dismissed her.

“ I’m not going anywhere. Be a man and tell me what I could have possibly done to make you upset ?”, Jane spat. Roman hated that tone and suddenly he was losing his grip on his temper for the second time today.

“ You call me an ass before I can even so much as utter a reasoning behind my statement. I’m called an ass and then dismissed? You ask Adhar for lessons but not me? Then you’re dancing with him and you’re so content in his arms like there’s no place you’d rather be?”

Jane’s brows rise in confusion.“ You’re jealous? You of all people ??!”

“ Is the sky fucking blue ?”, Roman hissed.

“ I’m sorry that I do not pet your ego the way you like. I’m sorry I’m not living up to the mousey silent role you’re used to seeing me play ”, Jane scoffs.

“ Don’t do that…”, Roman raised his tone half an octave. Still calm but more alert. He points his finger at her. “ Do not do that. Don't pretend that this is my gender. This has nothing to do with that. Don’t cop out with that. Not after everything”, Roman scolds.

“ Well what else could it be ? I’m actually enjoying myself now and suddenly you have a problem with it ?! I thought you’d be happy for me. I thought that me learning to sword would ease your worry after what happened to the Black jewel. But...THIS ?”, said Jane.

“ I have no name or category to identify what we share. I see the way he looks at you.”

“ Adhar is not like that. His heart belongs to another.”

“ I know men. I’m a man, I know a man in lust when I see one. You’re a beautiful woman Jane. Any red blooded male would be a fool not to— “

“ This IS about your gender because you sound like a stupid man !” Jane raged. Roman seemed taken aback for a moment but didn’t dare speak. Even Jane herself looked shocked. Back in London she would NEVER raise her voice to a man—it’s certain to earn a slap. But something so visceral bubbled inside her now.

“ First it’s Adhar. Then it’s your problem with me swording. You’re starting to sound like all the rest of them. So sure that you know what a girl needs—that you know what’s right. That you know the natural order.”

“ You’re are aiming your frustration at the wrong person Jane.”

“ No, I think I’m a damn good shot. Why can’t you see that I’m tired of being the person things happen to. Every moment of my life—victim. VICTIM. I don’t want to be weak. Why can you let me do this for myself ? Why are you so threatened ? You let Alice—

“ Alice wasn’t like you.”

She gets louder. “ What does that even mean?!”

“ Forget it.”

She fully yelling now.“ What does that mean ?!! Alice was stronger ?!!”

“ Jane”, Roman warns in a low tone. Something in her stomach is telling her to leave now before this combusts. Her pride pushes onward.

“ She was taller, more capable ? Not weak like me? So I’m doomed to be a victim!?”

“ Jane” he warns even lower. He rubs his beard with annoyance.

“ I can’t want more for myself ?!”

He erupts..

“ I DIDN'T CARE FOR ALICE LIKE I CARE FOR YOU!”, he roars.

Silence falls.

Roman begins to pace. “ You are driving me to madness. Every moment I think of you…the bruises I saw on you. Your eyes….the way you shook. The way you held yourself like you were preparing for—- he catches himself and closes his eyes for a moment. She watches his tense body language assessing if she should run. However…something told her that she was okay.

“ It’s not that I think you aren’t capable, Jane. It’s that you shouldn’t have to fight. You shouldn’t have to touch a sword. You shouldn’t have to prepare for the worst. You’ve paid your dues —this I know to be true. For your every presence to grace this ship should be nothing short of a privilege. It is a miracle—you’re a miracle. I wanted to take care of you. Even if you forbid me from ever kissing you again. Even if you decide you can’t stand my very presence. Even if you’ve fallen for another..I need to take care of you.”

Jane stands there stunned for a moment. Seeing Roman lose control of the calm demeanor he always presented her with… was shocking. Now as if she’s forced his hand, he finally tells her the depth of what he feels. His irritation was short lived and the truth he blurted seemed to dampen his anger as quickly as it came.

“ And maybe that very desire is chauvinistic. And yes I’m jealous. How can I not be ? We kissed and I’ve been replaying it in my head ever since. You pulled away and I don’t blame you—I promised you I wouldn’t. You needed time and I’ve given you that—I’ll give you more. But can’t I have this ? Am I not allowed to seethe at the way your eyes meet another ? As I fear that I’ve lost your favor in the weeks we’ve been distant? After all, it is you who said that I’m a person. Not just a man but I'm a person Jane. Am I not a slave to my own flesh just like everybody else?”, he says in a quiet begging tone.

Never has a man expressed his desire for her in this way. But not just desire, no. There was adoration….admiration too. He has disarmed her. Now she stared at him with tears rimming her eyes as she felt this unusual need to be closer to him. To hide her face in his chest like an embarrassed child. To cry.

Her voice cracked. “ You can protect me by liberating me, Roman. Arming me to defend myself.”

He sighed in disappointment. “ If you wanted to leave I would have let you.”

“ I chose this.”

“ Why….?”

“ I’ve had more rights on this ship than I’ve had in my entire life. And when you look at me……”, Jane’s eyes trail down to her shoes now and she can’t help but to closer her eyes to speak the words, as if she was hiding from them herself.

“ When you look at me it feels like you're looking AT me. Like you see me on the inside too. Like I’m a whole person. I’m not lesser. You don’t straighten your stance in power when I look away. You don’t smirk when I’m trembling. I’m not some background object or a side character. And you know what that’s like…don't you? You know what it’s like to be observed like an animal…to be treated like furniture. Moved around…herded from place to place like livestock. To be judged for your color, your features, your build, your words, your very essence. You know what it’s like for people to feed on your fear…to survive and sustain themselves on it. You’re the first man who’s ever looked at me—really looked at me like I mattered. That’s why I chose this ship, that's why I chose you Roman. And that’s why I know that after all you’ve done for me…you’ll let me have this too. You’ll be happy for me.”

He melts. Not in his stance but his eyes. They soften and deepen. His brows raise in defeat. His shoulders relax. His gaze darts around the room for reprieve. She has penetrated his defenses. On his cheeks, the faintest flush. He rubbed his fingers along his temples. His self control has weakened. He was back to pacing around the room again.

“Go to bed”, he says firmly.

This catches her off guard. She just spilled his heart out and suddenly had no regard for it. “NO”, she scoffed.

“Jane..”

“Roman..”

“ Jane. GO. TO. BED”, he warns.

“Don’t tell me what to do. You’re not my father.”

“ You’re damn right I’m not your goddamn father. And bless him for dealing with such infuriating —

She slaps him. He hit a soft spot mentioning her father and she slapped him across the face. It happened quicker than she had time to understand and then suddenly his mouth was on hers. Hers was on his. Suddenly, as she tasted the ale on his tongue, she understood what the anger brewing outside the two of them was. Passion. He pauses hesitantly, pulling his face from hers. She claws at his hair forcing his mouth back to hers. He sucks on her tongue pressing her up against the wall.

They stop for a moment, taking a second to stare at one another. The room is filled with panting and unspoken lust. She inhales the air he exhales. Forehead to forehead she can see the uncertainty creeping up on his face.

“ I have been trying hard to be a good man. Do you know the things I think about doing to you?”

“ That’s okay”, she answers desperately twisting against his touch. Desperately wanting friction.

“ I’m not a good man Jane. I kill people. I steal and I lie. Since the moment you’ve been on this ship I’ve tried my best to hide the depravity that I feel when I’m near you. You have possessed me…Jane.”

“ I—I don’t care what you are”, she groans into his mouth trying to catch it with her own. He pulls back further.

“ You will be a criminal by association if you choose me.”

“ I’m already a criminal by British standards. There is nothing left in that life for me”, she hissed in frustration pressing her breast against his chest. She feels up and down his arms and then her fingers tug at his shirt. That nearly unraveled him but he once again restrained himself. She was operating on an entirely animalistic desire.

“ I will—I’ll stop this. Tell me to stop”, he begged as his mouth found her neck.

“No”, she moaned.

“ Say it…say you want me to stop”, he groaned as he bit into her skin.

“ touch me”, she gasped.

And then…everything in the room seemed to swirl and blend into itself. She wasn’t shaking in fear. She wasn’t tearing herself away; she was unequivocally open to him. Their mouths smashed and crashed against one another like how water met rock. Her hands dig into his skin, wishing she could borrow them into his flesh until she merged her bones with his own.

Something was primal about this. These feelings seemed to have boiled to the top and blew the lid on both of their self control. He dragged her like a rag doll over to the front of his desk. He swiped it clean with a massive clatter of objects to the floor before resting her on the hard surface.The kiss continued and it got sloppier. She sucked on his bottom lip unabashedly. Her nails dug into the side of his arm. Her legs parted making room for his large frame. She pulled away motioning for his shirt. He pulls it off in a frenzy exposing his ripped physique. He was covered in tattoos all across his chest and down the left side of his body. Her eyes widened in desire, clawing for his skin and rubbing her fingers against his chiseled stomach. He was firm and soft. She arched into him as he kissed down her neck pulling her nightgown down to expose one of her breasts. He pulls it into his mouth and sucks. She moans at the warmth of his tongue flicking back and forth over the skin. His teeth grazed her nipple and she twitched from the sensation leaning into it once more. He switched to the other nipple while massaging her other breast.

“ These tits..”, he mumbled against a mouthful of breast before kissing back up to her awaiting mouth. Her fingers climbed down to the waistband of his pants before trailing back up to his shoulders. She figured she should mention that she wasn’t sure if she was ready to go all the way. She could feel him unbuckling his pants.

Just before she blurted out the words, he bent to his knees and pushed his hands under her bum, pulling her hips down towards him. Her panties went first and quickly. He bunched up her skirt revealing her naked sex and she instinctively tried to close them. He used to hands to keep them pryed open.

“ …so pretty”, he whispered quietly before licking his thumb and pressing it firmly against her clit. She took a sharp inhale of air and stiffened against the desk. Without warning a hot mouth found her clit and the room melted together in a haze of unidentifiable pleasure. What was this feeling ? How has no woman bothered to mention it to her ?

He pulled away rubbing her clit in circles and watching her squirm. She had no time to adjust as he dragged his tongue in a single swipe through her folds to catch every drop of arousal that stuck to her. They both groaned, him from the taste and her from the intrusion.

A shout spurted from her lips as he sucked her clit again “ Fuck!”, she winced as she found her hand in his hair. Her face was downturned into a permanent pout as he lapped on the mess of her inner thighs. He cleaned her arousal thoroughly before heading straight to her target again.

“ Roman”, she croaked quietly. This feeling was not one that came often to her. She experienced it a handful times before at her own expense. But now it was a sensory overload. His beard, his lips, his tongue, his hands, the cold table —it was different. And not only that, he was enthusiastic about. He groaned like he received pleasure and that confused her. What man could recieve pleasure from inflicting pleasure on his lady? She believed sex to be transactional and serving to one person only. But not anymore as he lapped her clit with the tip of his tongue.

With each pass her fingers dug tighter into his hair and she desperately tried to control the sounds that slipped past her tucked lips. Would somebody hear? Are people still here? Does she sound horrible? What if he doesn’t like the sound ?

But another wave of intense pleasure hit her as he began to swirl his tongue in circles which pulled her out of her thoughts. She pulled his hair unintentionally and he pressed hard against her. His sucking and licking became firmer and the moans she kept concealed slipped out louder. She covered her mouth.

“ Take your hand from your mouth”, He mumbled against her skin. She looked down at him crazily.

“ T-They’ll hear”, She stuttered quietly.

“ This is my ship. If someone’s there then they’ll get the fucking point ”, He rebuttaled followed by a long lap against her whole sex.

She apprehensively took her hand from her mouth and breathed through another overwhelming wave of pleasure. She felt it the most in her core and then it spread all over her body.

He sat back and opened her legs to see her, still keeping his arms hooked around her hips. She looked down at him but quickly reverted her gaze back to the ceiling. He extends his tongue and fucks her opening, filling her with it completely. He gets messy, taking his lips and swiping them up and down her folds, coating himself in her. A gentle slap to her thigh causes her to jump as she looks down at him quizically.

“ W-what”, she gasps.

“ Look at me”, he says before going right back to his pattern. Lap, flick, swirl, suck.

“ I- I can’t. I can’t or I’ll cum”, she whined.

“ That’s the point love,” he chuckled into her which shot vibrations against her sensitive flesh.

“ Come on..”, he coaxed gently rubbing her back and forth with his thumb. She slowly raised her head to look at him.

A wet beard, A long wet pink tongue, and deep brown eyes stared back at her. He flicked at her clit slowly staring her down with no shame and as she suspected, she fell apart within seconds. She shouted. Mortifyingly enough the release was way bigger than she prepared herself for as she felt her body shake and cramp up viciously. He held her down through it—-prolonging it with quick flickers by the tip of his tongue. As for his hair, her fingers were pulling it like horse reins. To get him to stop she had to push his head away. He gave her some reprieve.

There she laid, absolutely wrecked and throbbing. A few moments of silences passed between them as he lapped up her release before finally pulling away. Holy..fuck.

“ We are going to have to break this prissy behavior of yours. Your wound up tight. I want to see what happens when you lose control.” He says in an astute tone.

“ I’m pretty sure I did just a second ago”, she pants.

“ Oh nowhere close dove. Come…sit on my face.”

Her eyes popped out of her head. “ But I already came…just a second ago.”

“ Don’t tell me you’ve never stacked your orgasms on top of each other. Oh you have so much to learn”, he picked her up from the table and placed her on his bed.

“ Get on your hands and knees”, he constructed gently.

Jane obliged and felt him slide into a lying position underneath her. There were no pleasantries, he just buried her face in her cunt. From this angle she could fully feel his breath, his nose, his beard, his warmth— times ten. It instantly drew a long moan from her.

She was already so sensitive from the first climax but Roman’s tongue seemed to find new areas to torture and wring pleasure from. She never thought she’d enjoy riding a tongue until now. He used his hands to rock her up and down, impaling her on his tongue like a cock. He made sure to angle the tip of his nose right at her clit and pressed firmly earning a loud moan from her.

“ Roman wait —-fuck!”, she moaned. He just groaned in appreciation, sucking her clit with fivour.

“ Roman are you sure I’m not suffocating….”, she didn’t even finish the sentence as another high pitched moan rang through her. He didn’t bother to answer and instead hummed against her skin.

Something had changed in his demeanor. He was more ravenous this round, nearly swiping the entirety of her cunt against his face. It was getting to be too much as she got louder and louder, leaning forward to bury her face into one of his pillows. He reached up and snatched it from under her just to hear every whine that came from her mouth.

“I can’t—I’m gonna—- fuck wait !”, she panicked. And sure enough there it was, her second climax. It surprised her that her body gave it up so easily. Perhaps it really needed it. And now it was barreling towards her with vengeance. When it finally slammed into her, she winced and fell face flat on the bed screaming her lungs out.

Her ears were ringing as she felt him pull away. She remained with her face planted. Roman gently nudged her onto her, back assessing the damage. She was properly ruined, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat and a rouge tear making its way down her temple.

He was glorious of course. Shirtless with a soaked beard…panting like he took a jog or something. He sat next to her taking his shirt and wiping his wet beard off and then his neck.

“ Was I wanton enough for you ?”

“ Terribly so”, He chuckled leaning down to kiss her lips. A wave of tiredness came over her. She sat up ready to go back to her cabin. Roman pulled the covers over her in defiance.

“ Stay awhile”, he insists.

“ Are you sure ?”, she croaks tiredly.

“ Positive. I have work to do. Rest”, he leaned down to kiss her forehead. She would protest but a yawn took its place instead. Sleep found her fast.

When she woke up in the morning to the smell of toast she sat up with a proper yawn. Roman sat across the room polishing something shiny.

“ Ah you're awake. Sleep well? I did”, he flashed a white smile at her. She wanted to pull the covers back over her head remembering last night.

“ I….”

“ For you”, he walked over to her and placed a brand new golden sword and a musket in front of her.

“ Adhar can teach you sword. I’ll teach you to shoot.”

[star-going-supernova]

SBI idea: Feral Freddy who’s completely losing it over his son boy and all the confused animatronics watch as he goes on a war path <33

I just want more feral Freddy going bonkers over Gregory getting hurt :)

As you can see, I decided to throw a handful of prompts together for this ficlet. I haven’t put much thought into this AU other than to say, for the sake of having the satisfaction of letting Freddy go feral on him, Afton has not been springlocked. So, if that’s not telling enough, then I’m sure the title is, lol. Warning for blood and a bit of gore!

The Bite

The knife sank in to its hilt, and there it stayed as Gregory fell to the floor with a suddenness like his knees had been kicked out from under him. A soft noise of confused pain left him, and already, a glassiness had come over his eyes. 

Afton laughed. 

Perhaps he wouldn’t have done so—and perhaps he would have been more careful to stab his young victim in a more secluded location—if he’d known about Freddy. 

With the echo of Gregory’s summons in his head—the button had been spammed, either in impatience or panic, and Freddy always assumed the latter for caution’s sake (and had been wrong only once)—Freddy turned the corner into the atrium in time to watch Gregory finish falling onto his back, where he blinked sluggishly up at the ceiling. 

Freddy saw this, and the knife, and the growing stain of blood on Gregory’s shirt, and the man standing over him, laughing laughing laughing away. And then Freddy saw red. 

Afton didn’t have longer than a second or two to register the loud, crashing footsteps heading his way before he was tackled to the floor by a three hundred and fifty pound robot. This, as one might imagine, wasn’t very good for his health. 

Most of Afton’s ribs snapped on impact, and his skull bounced against the tiles with a resounding crack. Just as quickly as he was thrown to the floor, he was reeled upward, Freddy crouching over him and clutching handfuls of Afton’s shirt. His claws pierced the fabric and sliced through his chest. 

Blank black eyes with mere pinpricks of white pupils glared down at Afton. Freddy roared in the man’s face, his jaw hinging open wide. And then he pulled the dazed man forward, leaned down himself, and engulfed Afton’s entire head all the way to his chin in his maw before biting down with the force of a hydraulic press.

The prior history of animatronic bites, while gruesome, nonetheless looked like mere nibbles in comparison to this bite. For the fact remained that Freddy did not have a particularly cavernous mouth.

Afton’s head more or less exploded. Blood and mush burst out through the narrow gaps between Freddy’s teeth, and absolute gore plopped wetly to the floor. 

Freddy opened his mouth. His razor-sharp teeth had nearly decapitated Afton, and it was only by a few fleshy threads and a determined spinal column that the ruin of his head—the parts that weren’t liquified, that was—didn’t splatter at Freddy’s knees. The mess hung around the stump of the man’s neck like a deflated jellyfish.

Freddy turned his head slowly, mechanically. For a bot that had otherwise seemed so alive before, it was chilling to see. 

A short distance away, Vanny eeped in fear when his dark gaze landed on her. She raised her hands in the universal sign of surrender. 

“You will call for an ambulance,” Freddy told her lowly, “and you will unlock the pizzaplex, and you will not attempt to escape.” He stood up to his full height, and only then dropped the limp body. The remains of Afton squished to the floor. 

Hands shaking, Vanny nodded rapidly. She couldn’t quite look away from her boss’s splattered gray matter. 

Ignoring her, and with the threat dealt with, Freddy turned his attention to Gregory. Feeling quite distant from himself, he knelt beside the boy, who was trembling faintly and thoroughly in shock, and examined him. The knife, he knew, could not be removed. 

With bloodstained, gentle hands, Freddy lifted Gregory into his arms. Gregory seemed only barely aware of him; one of his hands fumbled against Freddy’s chest, leaving a small, smeared, bloody handprint over the lightning bolt. 

Freddy’s warning systems blared in fearful rage. He strode from the room as evenly as he could, trying to keep from jostling Gregory.

• • •

An hour later found Freddy in Parts and Service, making use of the animatronic-sized showers and rough cleaning brushes. Though more than one human’s blood stained his hands and chest, he focused only on Gregory’s, fiercely, angrily, harshly. He scrubbed with enough force to scratch his paint, and he scrubbed where the handprint had been long after it had been washed down the drain. 

Chica joined him at some point, his awareness of his surroundings dulled, and she carefully cleaned away the blood on his teeth and jaw and all the other places Gregory’s was not. 

She did not comment on the spot of exposed silver on his chest, where the orange and blue had been completely scoured off. 

• • • 

It was a month before Gregory was well enough to return to the pizzaplex. After hours, naturally. He ducked through the halls, skillfully evading the STAFF bots, and he couldn’t contain his grin when he knocked on the door to Freddy’s green room. 

Freddy was plainly confused when he opened the door, and it took a second for him to look down. Gregory’s smile widened. 

With an inarticulate noise of profound shock and relief, Freddy swooped down to scoop Gregory up, inhumanly fast. He laughed as he settled against Freddy’s chest, and the tight wrap of metal arms around his body didn’t scare him. He knew exactly how dangerous Freddy could be; his memory of That Night, after being stabbed, wasn’t the clearest, but he remembered enough. 

“You are here,” Freddy whispered, voice verging on glitchy. He hugged Gregory impossibly tighter, yet never too tight. “You are alive.” 

“Thanks to you,” Gregory said. “You really saved me, y’know.” 

“I thought I would lose you, superstar. I thought—”

“You didn’t. And you’re not gonna. I mean, you definitely made sure that psycho could never hurt me again.” 

Freddy growled. “He deserved nothing less.” He let Gregory sit up—encouraged it, even—and Gregory kindly didn’t tease him when Freddy’s eyes flickered the way they did when he was scanning someone. 

Perched mostly on only one of Freddy’s arms, Gregory allowed his protector to examine him, even going so far as to pat him down as thought looking for hidden injuries. And when Freddy was satisfied with the rest of his inspection, his eyes zeroed in on the exact spot the knife had been. 

Gregory lifted the hem of his shirt and felt Freddy spasm. The scar wasn’t that bad, all things considered. As it was, the actual knife wound was fairly neat, just a line of slightly raised red scar tissue. The scars from the resulting surgery and stitches just made it look worse. More… extensive. 

Freddy’s thumb brushed lightly against the skin near the injury, but not surprising at all, he didn’t actually touch it. 

“See?” Gregory said, letting him look for a minute before dropping his shirt back down. “They patched me up, and now I’m just fine. Doesn’t even hurt unless I try twisting around.” 

Freddy nodded slowly, not so much unbelieving as he was gradually coming to accept that as true. “I am… relieved. To hear that.” 

Relieved felt like way too small of a word for the desperate light in Freddy’s eyes and the way he carefully guided Gregory closer again with a hand on his back. Gregory went easily, happy to tuck his face against Freddy’s jaw. 

He knew he was safe there. 

[legendary-pink-dot]

(Some kind of) addiction

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x female reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Angst, and lots of it. Themes of emotional addiction, but no drug/alcohol use or abuse or violence.

Word Count: 682

Summary: You never thought you had an addictive personality. Until you met Frankie.

Notes: Not sure what precipitated this, but I had to get it out of my head. Dedicated to my dear @youandmeand5bucks

You never thought you had an addictive personality. Until you met Frankie.

It started out innocently enough: a few dates, late-night hookups, slowly spending more time together but not too much. Your life is full of friends, hobbies, a demanding job -- you didn't need him. Marriage and kids were not on the agenda. Fixing him was also not on your to-do list, and he welcomed the distraction of you so he didn't have to focus on fixing himself. But you did crave the sex, and once you got a taste, you started to wonder how you would ever go without it again. Doing anything silly to jeopardize cutting off the supply, like catching feelings, was unthinkable.

It wasn't just in how he ate you out (expertly). How many orgasms he gave you (many). How compatible your kinks were (very). Or even how he ruined you in bed (utterly). The real hook was his lack of inhibition. Without the restraints of Feelings holding him back, he was able to be feral, free and unhinged with you, yet always respectful of your lines and stopping immediately when the safeword was brought out. 99% sure he would never be abusive or violate your boundaries, the unpredictability of the remaining 1% enough to keep you excited and on the edge, tinting an already wild fuck with an extra forbidden flavor. There's a reason he'd been in elite special ops; you knew what those hands were capable of.

This is your symbiosis. It might not pass with flying colors the test you give yourself for most important decisions: "Is this enhancing my life, or distracting me from living it?" But it's not ruining it either, you think. As if you could be objective.

Inertia takes over for three months. Six. A full year goes by, and still, you pretend you're good with what he has to give you. Wanting more would change things, and he doesn't offer it anyway. Hope would create expectations, and if you both don't have them, then you can never be disappointed. You have full and busy lives, after all.

You exist together in that state, half solid and half liquid, until he disappears without warning for 2 weeks, in what you find out later was to South America. Some trip with his former Delta Force buddies that you suspected wasn't a holiday, but you didn't ask, and he didn't tell. All you knew was that he returned as someone else.

What gave it away wasn't the rare clean-shaven face or the wacky Hawaiian shirt that he showed up wearing, but a dark aura that ringed him like a cloud of dust. As usual, he didn't want to talk about it; when he showed up at your door, you figured all he wanted to do was fuck you raw in a bid to temporarily forget whatever he just ran from. You welcomed him in.

But the person that fucks you isn't the Frankie you know. This one uncharacteristically pulls you into his lap, sliding his cock in and out of you with more restraint than he'd ever shown before, kissing you more deeply and intimately than you thought him capable of. Even the thumb he gently runs along your cheek and jaw as he gazes at you feels different, like it had been broken and reshaped, though there aren't any visible bruises. For the first time, you feel utterly naked in front of him. Worse: you like it.

Not what either of you signed up for. Especially when he buries his face into your neck and whispers, "I need you," wrapping himself around you so tight you almost can't breathe. All of this after he comes, not before. Not even during.

Liquified under you, the ground is no longer solid. You don't even have time to silently ask yourself the inevitable "Would this distract from my life…" before your subconscious speaks for you.

"I'm here," you yield, twisting a curl around your finger at his nape and melting into his grip. "You'll always have me, Frankie."

[cheesycatz]

(Wormton AU) Somehow I went from putting a worm on a string inside my Spamton plushie's head to a 150k+ word fanfiction about the last living member of an entire extinct species of Spamton-themed giant predatory parasitoid computer-worm centipedes who is wearing a DIY skin suit (he has social anxiety)

Extra brain rot ⬇️

Molting process (shedding the exoskeleton, including hair)

Being fed a tracking chip hidden in a meat cube (in reference to Cyber City's efforts exterminating the BIGSHOT malworm (Wormton's species) during the 1997 invasion)

Top: muscles inside of the malworm's mouth allow its teeth to fold and receed inwards, allowing it to close its mouth properly.

A malworm's "teeth" are not actual teeth; they are parts of the mandible and are regularly shed alongside the rest of the exoskeleton.

Bottom: The aortic arches form the malworm's "hearts." They assist in moving blood around the body like a normal heart would. Malworms do not have a auditory heart beat.

The malworm lung structure is divided into many small connected chambers that run along the body. Should one of the pseudo-lungs be damaged, the tube connecting it to the rest of the respiratory system will close up until the damage is repaired, allowing the malworm to survive a punctured "lung."

The gizzard is a part of the digestive system. It allows the malworm to digest difficult materials, including the metal, plastic, and other inorganic aspects of their darkner prey.

The prominent, squishy circular markings at the corners of the malworm's mouth are scent glands used to mark territory. Malworms that live together will affectionately rub their scents on each other.

The proboscis acts as a long hollow spear that malworms use to attack prey, inject venom, and inject eggs. While malworm hatchlings use their proboscis to slurp up liquified tissues (since they aren't born with jaws), adults prefer solid foods. The proboscis resembles a tongue when relaxed, but a malworm can extend it up to half its body length depending on the species.

The hair of a malworm is incredibly similar to a spider. While not nearly as sensitive as a spider's hair, their hairs can feel the environment and detect vibrations and movement if close enough. It is also hydrophobic and keeps the cold-blooded malworm warm.

Malworms have scopula pads (dense specialized hairs) on the bottom of their feet that allows them to stick to walls.

The malworm's body parts, including the head, can reattach as long as the central nerve remains attached. If a body part is completely severed, the malworm will be able to regenerate it. A malworm can even completely regrow a severed head as long as it is tube-fed through the remainder of its throat. They are incredibly resilient, but far from invincible.

The malworm's nervous system acts as several "sub-brains" that allow the malworm to continue preforming basic functions (breathing, eating) even without a head.

The aforementioned fanfiction is not public yet. I plan to have a rough version of every chapter finished before I start sharing chapters on ao3, and I currently only have 76k words written.

Initial Wormton lore post

[ronearoundblindly]

Bet bucky understands japanese manga reffrence

Bucky*sees readers art*is that Hentai?!

Y/n:yes and i have more reffrences

Steve:O-O bucky no!

Now I HAVE to write it, guys. It's no longer 'haha'-optional! Please enjoy a naughty mini-fic about this hilarious comic strip. It's very short but the Stucky portion is *implied.*

Dirty Doodle, a steve rogers x artist!reader drabble

"That's..." Steve looks vaguely gray and sick to his stomach, confusion pinching his brow together, "it's lovely, sweetheart."

Half of the fun is how uncomfortable your adorable Steve gets in sexual situations, and innuendo is just whipped cream and the cherry on top of his glorious body.

Bucky pops into the lounge for a snack. "Hey, guys."

You beam, tossing a wink over your shoulder since poor Steve is still beet red and struggling to decipher all the meaning in your sketch. You don't imagine Captain Rogers knows what 'tentacle porn,' 'monster fucking,' or 'hentai' are but, by god, it's fun to watch the wheels turn.

Then Bucky slows his approach to the counter, eyeing your sketchpad curiously.

"Is that..." Bucky shakes his head. "Never mind."

"I made a drawing of Steve," you announce proudly, "pretty good likeness, I think."

Bucky steps closer with a controlled expression. "Uh huh, that's definitely Stevie."

"My girl's got quite a talent for--" Steve gulps "--fantasy."

"Yeah," Bucky says with a shrug, rolling his tongue slowly across his bottom lip, "I think I've seen something similar..."

This revelation seems to crawl inside Steve's brain and nest. "Like handcuffs?" Steve squeaks.

Oh.

Oh, poor baby.

Today is the day you liquify Steve Rogers's brain...with the help of his friend.

"Well, if by handcuffs you mean the slippery appendages that then kinda--" you stick two fingers in your mouth "--sure. Like handcuffs."

"It's a very popular form of adult entertainment."

You tap your screen a few times. "I have more examples."

"Ooohhh," Bucky hisses, "he's not ready for that one, but dang that's a good one. Show him that. Stevie, look at your abs."

Steve grips his own sketch paper so hard it crinkles your likeness.

"I'm so glad you like it," you coo to Bucky. "I worked really hard on that one to get the angle just right. " The tablet is zoomed in on a very handsome, blond man with a clenched eight-pack, legs spread and out of frame. The detail on his testicles and completely erect penis is stunningly upsetting to your boyfriend.

Steve covers his eyes and whimpers.

"His balls are very sensitive," you fake whisper to Bucky behind the back of your hand.

"Always have been," Steve's best friend mutters back.

"I hate you." Steve buries his whole, hot face in his hands, elbows thunking against the breakfast table.

You remain undeterred and, in fact, inspired.

"There was this one position we tried last week--" you flick through your projects to find your drawing "--he got this desperate look on his face and I tried to--"

Your tablet shatters against the far wall, Steve standing above you with apologetic shock.

"I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'll...I'll buy you a new one."

He stalks off, holding his sketchpad and pencil roll in front of his crotch.

You wait until he's out of the room to meet Bucky's eye. "Stevie hasn't really gotten a grasp on the cloud yet," you say, pulling out your phone to open the art app, "but I've got a new strip I'm working on..."

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[moxfirefly]

For the Casey and Raphael stans

"You look better with my hands around your neck."

"You're mine."

Always coming in clutch with what I’m craving to do 🖤🖤🖤

For reference look up John Morrison as Casey Jones and that is MY Casey (Steven can eat a dick)

Rasey stans I hope y’all enjoy 🫡

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Casey felt that his brain had liquified the second Raphael had grabbed his thighs to push them apart.

He swore he could hear his brain matter bubble in one last heroic attempt to shoot a message to his body.

But in fact it didn’t, all it managed was for something incoherent to slip from his lips.

Raphael looked good between his legs.

Raphael looked downright beautiful with his mouth stuffed.

Raphael looked even more imposing with a large green mitt pressing down on Casey’s sternum.

Casey’s hips stuttered, eyes unable to remain still, too busy visiting the place that once housed his brain.

“Ra—aph,” Good a coherent name, we’re making progress.

Raphael’s green eyes found him, a sort of prideful gleam adorned his irises when he realsed Casey’s leaking cock with a resounding pop.

What was he trying to say again?

“Yeh, babe?” Raphael lazily stroked Casey’s cock, the natural pink now an angry painful red. He tried swallowing, give his body a chance to do a hard reset and maybe get some of his fucking factory settings to do anything.

But fucking Raphael kept fucking lazily stroking him.

He didn’t want to beg, he’d rather draw blood than beg…

“Ya know I can finish you off like this? I’ve done it before.” Raph tightened his hand just to simply drive the point further. Which only served to make Casey honest to goodness whine pathetically. “Eh— Wheres the fun in that?” His hips do another jerk, chasing the friction in hopes of finding some relief.

Raph noticed.

God, he noticed.

Three free fingers found his neck, gripped his throat in a way that only screamed possessive. Raph tightened his hold, enough to make Casey’s cheeks turn pink.

From lack of blood flow or embarrassment?

Who knew.

Casey’s eyes once again betrayed him, the half roll they did when Raph’s hand began to stroke him faster only serving to prove a point.

“You look better with my hands around your neck, Jones.” Raph’s baritone spoke, the vibration rattling inside of Casey’s chest.

When he felt something thick and wet at his hole, when he felt that initial push that made him gasp and seek air, when Raph was nestled inside of him he felt that if he breathed wrong he’d cum.

The hold on his neck slackened just enough for a reprieve but it served little purpose as Raph gave that first harsh thrust.

“oh—fuuuck,” Casey whimpered, voice shakey and throat raw.

Raph gave another short but hard thrust, purposeful, demanding. He wanted Casey to know he was causing him to crumble.

“I-I’m fucking cl-close…” Casey muttered, eyes dazed, each force of Raph’s thrusts making him babel.

“Already?” Smug bastard, Raph really had him and there was nothing he could do as he continued to fall apart around Raph’s cock.

Casey gripped the sheets when Raph bended him past his breaking point. He wanted to get closer, close enough to whisper in Casey’s ear.

“You’re mine, Jones, all fucking mine.” Raph bit down on his neck. Hard enough to make him shout.

Casey only saw white when he came.

[odditycircus-2002]

So anyone remember this bit of dialogue I wrote?

Y/N: How is the Collection today, Ermac?

Ermac: Thanks to your remedies, We feel more... stable. /

Well, that came from an idea in mind about how Ermac would possibly go to Medusa!Reader for healing, specifically, keeping the magic that holds him together stable. Y/N would gladly do so, knowing Ermac’s death means the death of all the souls within them. However, it’s not like keeping a soul-made construct intact through herbs and roots alone would due. So Y/N would have to turn to some rather dubious methods…

Not only would she use some magic she learned when coming across Shang Tsung’s island, but also the discard liquified soul fragments Y/N found within the remains of Yin’s fortress. She didn’t find a lot, but it’s enough for now to occasionally feed Ermac drops of the fragments. Only Ermac and Y/N know about this, as the latter opted not to tell Baraka.

Yet, if Medusa!Reader is willing to feed soul fragments to Ermac, you have to wonder what else Y/N is willing to do…

[melusine0811]

I wrote this after I saw @sangoundercover 's gorgeous illustration last week HERE (NSFW) and my brain shorted out so I had to pause my huge multichapter fic to spin out this little oneshot.

Read it on Ao3 here.

...............

A stray patch of sunlight is what rouses her ultimately, this morning. 

One single, wayward fleck of the aurora piercing through the cavern— and of course directly on Seyka’s eyelid. 

She pulls in breath slowly, grasping at it, welcoming it with open lungs, and the same thing that happens every morning occurs—  her senses become full of Aloy. Not a bad way to wake up, if she says so herself.

Right about this time of the day is when she remembers how lucky she is. Lucky to lay here, reveling in the warm press of her body, lucky by the way she must have automatically sought refuge in Aloy’s arms sometime in the night— lying half on top of her, with her ear pressed to her chest, lulled in sleep by the steady cadence of her heartbeat. 

She listens to the throb of that heart, as she often does. It’s sure, steadfast, and never fails her. She knows it will be there just as she knows the sun will rise— every day, always, her own personal chronometric bulwark. Aloy’s soft fingers are threaded in Seyka’s loose hair, and she can feel her breath on her forehead, her lips pressed to her hairline. 

This is her favorite way to sleep, undoubtedly, even as Aloy remains pretty much dead to the world, snoring lightly in the midst of all this.

Seyka smiles, squeezing Aloy’s body tighter, just laying there, blinking slowly like a sleepy fox. Breathing along with her, synchronized. There is a deep peace, a quiet energy this morning and the snap of  slightly chilly early-autumn air is a welcome rush to wake her senses.

She’s also reminded of the fact that the two of them had fallen asleep fully clothed, the majority of their armor still on last night after they’d spent the whole day hunting and gathering supplies they’d become low on. They’d found that they’d wandered too far from the Base to get back there after the sun had set, and they were exhausted, so Aloy had suggested this little cave she recalled from another time she had passed through. They both felt much more at ease sleeping in the wilds, anyway, unsure how the Old Ones could stand being indoors most of the time.

The cave faces East, with a beautiful little waterfall cascading in front of the entrance, emptying into a pool under a considerable rock overhang, vines dangling from either side of the waterfall. The light coming through the water and between the leaves is like something from out of a dream, and creates the perfect haven for rest.

Last night they’d fallen asleep almost as soon as their heads hit Seyka’s rolled-up cape they’d shared since they hadn’t brought a bedroll, curled into one another for warmth, if not for the reason that neither slept well these days without the other.

Seyka stretches, wiggling her toes and then all at once the soreness hits her. Her feet are still burning, and her arms and legs ache, and she has to muffle herself from whining in pain at the sensation. She decides that the hard, lumpy cave floor probably isn’t doing anything for her either.

She lifts her head again, looking up at a sleeping Aloy. Her chest is rising and falling with the hypnotic quiver of her breath, her eyelashes still. That little fleck of sunlight has slid up Aloy’s throat and is now on her cheek, illuminating her features like she’s something celestial. Seyka’s chest tightens, emotion stinging at the corners of her eyes, her insides liquifying. A frequent occurrence these days.

Just about the time she thinks she could not possibly contain any more love for this woman in the confines of her ribcage, she just falls in love with even more deeply, pulled in and held fast by her words, her tenacity, her resolve. Her selflessness and her passion.

And the way Aloy returns her love, like a tidal wave, crashing over her, and soaking into her skin from her head to her toes. No…like molten ore, flowing into the cracks of Seyka’s pain and fears, mending her back together with her mutual need for Seyka.

And the ways she expresses it, without even intending to, in all that she is and everything she does.

She’s made from flame, Aloy. 

But Seyka has always been able to wield fire.

She decides ultimately to let Aloy sleep, and that it might be nice to go find some eggs and maybe some fish for breakfast, so she scoots up, kissing her softly on the cheek, whispering “I love you” over Aloy’s skin, and slowly rises, tiptoeing out past the waterfall and to the other side of the pool.

She is still dirty and sweaty from the grind last night, so she decides that a soak wouldn’t hurt her, so she strips down, removing her pants and undershorts, along with her shirt, sighing when the cool water hits her skin. She reaches over to her discarded belt piled with her other armor last night, and pulls out a small cake of soap from her pouch, and gets to work scrubbing herself down, rinsing her hair and body clean when she’s done, then sitting and drying herself on a rock as she combs out her hair. When she’s finished, she pulls her hair back up into a simple ponytail, securing it with a red ribbon.

She puts her chest wrap and soft linen shirt back on when she hears movement stirring from within the cave. A very drowsy-looking Aloy emerges, blinking in the sunlight, and Seyka smiles at her, saying nothing because she knows that it takes Aloy some time to process and even produce words just after waking up. Aloy joins her on the rock, immediately leaning into her, giving her sleepy kisses that don’t lack in intensity, both intaking air deeply just at the contact.

She’s pretty sure it will always be like this, and despite Aloy’s difficulty doing much other than bump into things when she first wakes up, the one thing she responds to is this.

Seyka kisses her several times, cradling her neck and the back of her head, slow, gentle. Letting gravity pull them in. Aloy kisses her back with a quiet intensity that causes goosebumps to break out across her skin that has nothing to do with the chilly water and the breeze.

Aloy backs away, looking at her.

“Hi,” she says, yawning and stretching. “I guess I better join the clean club. I am still gross.” 

Seyka smiles.

“I don’t think you’re gross.”

“I’m still all sweaty and I have volatile sludge in my hair.”

“Okay, maybe a little gross.”

She kisses Aloy again, who then stands, stripping down, and she slides into the pool, slipping under the water, rising again, skin drenched and shining in the sunlight.

She catches Seyka staring, and asks “What?”

“You. You’re beautiful, that’s all. Every day I think to myself you couldn’t get more beautiful, but you continue to surprise me.”

Aloy still has trouble taking compliments, since she has never known how to process them and has spent her life unwanted by virtually everyone, so she deflects.

“Even though I’m the sludge monster?”

“Even though you’re the sludge monster.”

Seyka suddenly feels the urge to touch her, to care for her, so she tugs her arm, pulling her over and takes the soap, and starts scrubbing her hair while sitting on the ledge. There is a sharp grade and the knee-deep water plunges down to almost six feet within four strides.

It’s usually about this time that Aloy’s same instinct to care for her comes out, and then inevitably things…escalate. The embers of it are already blooming low in Seyka’s belly just being near her, touching her, seeing the curves and defined lines of the shape of her body.

Aloy scrubs down the rest of her body, then steps over into deeper water to rinse herself again, then returning to where it’s to her knees. Seyka steps down from the rock, joining her, and she pulls her into her arms, kissing her neck gently as Aloy quickly arranges her hair in her rows of twists and braids, then she frames Seyka’s face, kissing her back thoroughly, catching her mouth with her own like something magnetic. Seyka nothing short of melts into her touch as Aloy wraps herself around Seyka, probably getting her shirt wet, but Seyka doesn’t much care.

The heat is there immediately, and she’s shivering, sighing—a throb building in Seyka’s heart at the sound of Aloy’s breathy hum of pleasure as she draws her in more tightly, kissing her more deeply, tiny sounds emitting from the back of her throat. The embers start to burn hotter, as she slides her tongue along Aloy’s lip, and Aloy groans, now, pulling back but staying close and pressing her forehead to Seyka’s, needing a moment to just take her in, equalize her before she's overwhelmed with need. 

Aloy is breathing in through her nose and squeezing her eyes shut, apparently overcome with emotion. She husks out "I love you," and then she places her hand on the back of Seyka’s head and kisses her again, in slow motion, with a raw passion that sizzles so hot, Seyka nearly can’t stay upright as she pulls images of the ways she wants to absorb her from the liminal edges of her imagination. Everything becomes touch, and ache, as their shadows merge on the backdrop of the rock wall.

Seyka’s stomach drops in desire as fire rages through her.

They press their bodies together, and the firm pressure of each slow, feverish, heart rendering kiss disconnects and comes back together with such potency it has each one of them begins shuddering in euphoria, and is catalyst to the next one as hot breath pools on lips and they’re struggling against gravity, bodies already flexing and swaying against one another.

Aloy’s mouth returns to Seyka’s neck, giving her breathless, open-mouthed kisses, charting the constellations of freckles down her throat, grazing her skin with her teeth, and her hands slide under Seyka’s shirt, beneath her chest wrap, reaching her breasts. Seyka inhales sharply, even though she knows Aloy’s touch like she knows her own mind, along with the reaction unfurling across her chilled skin.

Aloy lifts and cups both of them softly, the motion of their hips synchronized by breath and the swell of a far-off ocean, as they’re each dragged further into the undertow, deeper into each other.

Aloy then wraps one arm behind Seyka to pull her into the pressure of her other hand, caressing more firmly as Seyka begins keening, sucking in air as though there’s not enough oxygen in the atmosphere. Aloy kisses her, tongue hot and sliding against hers, then cupping both breasts again, as Seyka places her hands overtop Aloy’s, holding her hands firm to herself as Aloy grasps her flesh, causing her to feel that delicious ache.

Seyka doesn’t want to leave Aloy out, so she takes it upon herself to slide her hand between them, down Aloy’s belly. Aloy vocalizes even before Seyka touches her. She’s slick and warm, anticipating her and Aloy finally cries out at the full contact of Seyka’s fingers slipping through her heat. By the way she’s reacting to her, Seyka knows that Aloy’s not going to last, and she needs to give this to her. Needs to watch her, to her hear come apart as she breathes in great gasps in Seyka’s ear. She slides two fingers within her as Aloy leans heavily against her. She loves that she has this effect on her and at the same time wishes that when Aloy gets like this— addled with need—that Seyka could hold her off just slightly.

But she’s sure that will be something that will develop in time. Aloy’s resting her forehead against Seyka’s, now, her hips moving against the drive of her hand, and Seyka goes back to concentrating her touch on her slick center, moving in circles. Aloy at this point puts her hand on top of Seyka’s, driving her touch, showing Seyka exactly what she needs, harder and faster as the moments go on. Before Seyka even expects it, Aloy is taking tiny sips of air into lungs that can’t contain them, and throwing her head back and crying out as she shudders in climax, her hips moving relentlessly.

Before her tremors even seem to stop, Aloy is all of a sudden crouching, dropping to her knees in the water, the sudden loss causing Seyka to rest her hand on the nearby ledge for support.

Aloy pulls her close, mouth seeking skin, tongue sliding between her breasts as she lifts Seyka’s shirt and chest wrap up. Seyka leans down then to kiss her mouth, cupping her cheek, slow and gentle like slipping down below the surface in the deeper end of the pool, pulling back to look into her eyes, and kissing her again. Her mouth glides over Aloy’s until the latter slides her hands up again, covering Seyka’s breasts, then taking one of them into her mouth, tongue moving over her, pulling on skin and tugging lightly, opening her mouth further. When she releases, she teases Seyka’s nipple with the tip of her tongue, circling, maddeningly slowly.

She then begins to work her way down Seyka’s stomach, painting it with kisses and with the tip of her tongue, all while Seyka is realizing where she’s heading…and she’s  attempting to somehow stand upright holding onto nothing but the rock ledge. Aloy’s hands slide over the curve of Seyka’s bottom, massaging, pulling her close. She then crouches and moves over and begins kissing her hipbone, her tongue peeking out to taste every point of contact her mouth has with her skin. 

She works her way down diagonally…slowly, languidly following the line where Seyka’s thigh meets her torso.

Seyka needs more stability so she slides her fingers into Aloy’s hair with her free hand, gripping the back of her skull for dear life as Aloy’s mouth finally reaches its mark…and she lifts Seyka’s leg, wrapping it around her shoulder as her lips begin to move, her tongue sliding within her folds as Seyka aches and throbs, needing her touch. Her flesh sears on contact.

No matter what time of day it is, it seems, they seek one another, whether actively or in the back of their minds, just waiting for the moment they’ll be free to fold back into one another. To this. To them, wrapped in each other, whether like this, or just enveloped in the other’s quiet presence. 

Aloy draws Seyka’s flesh into her mouth, sucking fixedly as Seyka is already crying out, long and low, voice echoing off of the rock walls and the back of the cave. All of a sudden it’s too much for Seyka, she can’t stay upright. Aloy senses this and lifts her up on the rock, Seyka scrambles backwards, and she quickly pulls off her shirt and chestwrap, pulling Aloy on top of her. 

Seyka props herself up on her elbows and watches her, Aloy pushing her legs as far apart as she can get them, then returns her mouth to where Seyka is aching for her…deep and wanton, her skin feeling like it’s made from paper and she’s translucent, the shine from within her body growing brighter with each spectacular stroke of Aloy’s tongue, eventually making her feel like she’s made of heat.

Seyka’s breaths squeeze her already hammering heart against her ribcage as Aloy wraps her arms under and around Seyka’s thighs, bringing herself closer as Seyka watches her, grasping uselessly at words. She finally chokes them out.

“That’s so good…Aloy. I love you. Please, don’t stop…” 

The pressure within her womb is unfed and boundless, every square millimeter of her skin feeling like it is throbbing with pleasure as this person…this beautiful person who she loves more than she even thought was humanly possible translates her love and her desire for her in the slide of her tongue and the movement of her lips. The bowstring within her draws tighter, tighter, and Seyka closes her eyes, letting her head drop back as her hips start to move without her actually doing anything to control them.

She picks her head back up, watching Aloy, completely bare and sleek with water from the pool, with the dappled pattern of leaves filtering the sun through the trees, causing rays to dance across her skin as though Aloy herself is made from motes of light. Seyka’s head is hazy as it starts, slow due to the skill of Aloy’s tongue…she won’t let her go over too fast…she wants it to last, as pleasure flares—intense ache about to drag her under, each breath coming closer than the last.

Finally, Aloy slides two fingers within her, pushing in as she moves her mouth urgently.

It’s only about ten seconds later when the coil snaps, and Seyka keens, so loud she can hear the reverberations all the way from the back of the cave. Everything is moving, twisting, as Aloy doesn’t stop moving her mouth despite the uncontrollable movements of  Seyka’s hips, and Aloy looks up, locking eyes with her, Seyka’s entire body trembling as yet another wave of pleasure washes over her.

She doesn’t muffle her cries as her legs shake like a newborn animal.

Aloy crawls up, Seyka bringing her in to kiss her, tasting herself on her mouth. It’s languid and sublime and hot, and then Aloy tucks her forehead into Seyka’s neck, mouth still needing her, so she sucks on skin between breaths as they equalize themselves again. Aloy then lays her head on Seyka’s chest, listening to the pounding of her heart.

When Seyka is able to speak, she looks down at her.

“I was…doing that with you, earlier. Listening to your heart.”

Aloy picks her head up, resting her chin on her hand against Seyka’s breast.

“Oh? What did it say?”

“It said we should stay here for the whole day and again tonight, it thinks we earned it.”

Aloy smiles at her.

“Now that might be the best idea you’ve ever had.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Record of Ragnarok x That Time I Got Reincaranted as a Slime

I’m sorry but the mental image of Rimuru just absorbing their enemy god and then combining their physical features with his regular human form and just either figuratively or literally flipping off the other gods while all of Jura is just going wild about their Lord Rimuru easily beating a god

Plus, I’m just imaging that Brunhilde chose to have Rimuru to go against Zeus just to absolutely destroy the old man

-Brunnhilde had her hands on her fist, glaring down at Zeus who was glaring up at her, the Greek god pointing a finger at the third being in the room, “What is this, valkyrie?”

-Brunnhilde smiled, almost evilly, “A mere slime, Lord Zeus. One who can speak and has agreed to fight for humanity.”

-Zeus frowned at her, thinking she was mocking him, “We agreed on the strongest members for both sides! How is a slime strong!”

-Rimuru’s little slime arm rose, getting their attention, “Don’t underestimate me! I want to fight!” Brunnhilde said nothing but Zeus stared down at the little blue slime before he snorted and immediately busted out laugher, holding his stomach.

-Zeus wiped tears from his eyes only moments later before he glared, still annoyed, “If this is what you’re planning on, Brunnhilde, to have this slime fight for humanity, then I’ll allow it. Don’t come crying to me when you lose again. In fact, how about I fight next against this little slime?” Brunnhilde was shocked but agreed, trying to keep her elation hidden before he walked off.

-Brunnhilde and Rimuru shared a glance before she lifted a fist and he lifted one of his faux arms, “You’re gonna fuck him up, right?” Rimuru couldn’t help but chuckle himself, “With pleasure, cocky guys like that are the best to beat.”

-Goll was the one who carried Rimuru down to the entrance to the arena, cuddling the adorable slime who assured the youngest valkyrie that he was going to be just fine!

-The crowds were almost near rioting, the humans furious that Brunnhilde chose such a weakling to represent them, and the gods feeling insulted that their supreme leader, Zeus, was facing a mere slime, it was an insult to their power.

-Rimuru toyed with Zeus, taking his blows, not getting injured in the slightest, but crying out as if he was being hurt, playing up that he was just a ‘weak little slime’

-Zeus grew tired, annoyed that Rimuru wasn’t dying, annoyed with him bouncing around, and glared, “Time to get serious!” his body swelled as a dark aura surrounded him, grinning darkly.

-Rimuru, hearing the cheers of the humans watching, feeling the thoughts of those in the Great Forest of Jura, Rafael projecting their thoughts to him, it made him feel warm as he seemed to beam, sparkles around him, “Then I’ll get serious too!”

-His words stunned Zeus who had charged at him, but the words infuriated the leader of the gods, a furious war scream leaving him

-Rimuru let the punch hit him, but instead of bouncing back, his body seemed to liquify, enveloping Zeus’ arm.

-Many thought Rimuru had perished, finally squished by Zeus, until the leader of the gods cried out as tendrils, made of slime, began to crawl up his body, constantly latching to him, not giving an inch as more and more of the slime covered Zeus’ body.

-The crowd watched, horrified, seeing Zeus being dissolved and devoured by this ‘harmless little slime’ until only Rimuru remained, landing on the ground with a small bounce before he seemed to beam, “I won!”

-Everyone was stunned, completely silent, eyes wide and jaws to the floor, seeing that Zeus was defeated, and this ‘mere slime’ made it look easy!!

-Rimuru hopped back to the waiting area while Rafael spoke about the new skills he obtained, only paying half attention as he had so many now that he couldn’t keep track of them all.

-Brunnhilde and Goll were quick to meet up with him and he seemed to grin when Brunnhilde praised him, “I knew you were strong, but I had no idea you were capable of doing something like that!”

-He just laughed like he was an old man or a mentor, lightly teasing them, “Fu-fu-fu, that’s why you should never underestimate your opponent! Now Brun-chan~ you mentioned something about a feast if I won?”

-She held her arm out to show him the way, “Yes, we have prepared a feast of Japanese cuisine for you to enjoy.

-Rimuru leapt up high in glee, “Whoo-hoo!! Let’s go!!”

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

I wanna talk about Marcus Pike and his thigh riding kink...

(Smut, 18+ only under the cut)

Specifically, I want to talk about Marcus's fantasy of watching you, completely bare, get yourself off on his thigh while he's still in his work suit, FBI badge and all. One of these days, he'll ask if you can come to his office to do this, but for now, the couch is fine. He hasn't even taken off his shoes, and yet here you are, fully nude and grinding on his leg.

Some might think it's some kind of power trip for him, but it's not. It's about being wanted. Marcus wants to see you so desperate, so far gone for him that you'll take anything you can, including this--just this, just the friction of his suit pants against your clit.

And you do--you do take it. You take anything and everything Marcus gives you, willingly and enthusiastically. He looks up at your half-lidded eyes and slack mouth as you chase your pleasure on him, and he knows he could ask for anything right now and you'd do it. Whatever it may be, you'd do it for him.

Right now, he wants to watch you pinch your nipples, so he leans up to whisper the soft command in your ear, delighting in the way your lower spine arches of its own accord when his lips graze your skin. He watches as you comply, rolling the sensitive buds between your fingers even as your brow furrows at the feeling of oversentitivity.

Marcus Pike wants to be wanted--he wants to know it's not just him. It's not just him who would do anything and everything you asked. It's not just him who would move mountains or burn them to the ground on a whim for you. He's discussed--oh, so many times with his therapist--the need to stop giving everyone more than he can possibly give, letting them take every piece, but you are his one remaining blind spot, and he knows it. You could ask for the world, and he'd find a way to lay it at your feet.

It's safe for him to allow you this power--he knows, he just knows that you won't take more than he has to offer. You, the first person to really care for him in the same ways he always wants to care for others. You, who pours two thermoses of coffee in the morning, who divvies up last night's leftover Thai into two Tupperware containers. You, who draws hearts and smiley-faces on sticky notes and leaves them on said containers for him to find at lunch and add them to the growing pile of little yellow squares on his desk with your handwriting on them.

You whine softly above him, and Marcus grabs a handful of the pillowy, soft flesh of your ass and uses it to drag you along his thigh.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Use it. Make yourself come, let me see. Let me watch you. I wanna see it, baby, c'mon..."

Your hips start to lose their rhythm as you succumb to your own pleasure, and Marcus rakes in every sight with greedy eyes. Your mouth falls open and your eyes meet his with desperation in your gaze as you feel yourself falling into the inevitable.

"Good," he whispers. "So fucking good. So fucking good for me, my perfect girl. Good girl. Look so pretty--"

You let out a grateful sob and Marcus can see the moment you fall over the edge. You lose control of your body, slumping forward and burying your face into his neck, your fingers digging too hard into the meat of his shoulders. He grabs your hips and guides you through it--back and forth, back and forth, drawing out every last quake of your body, every last aftershock, until you seem to liquify and relax into his arms.

"Y-Your cock," you mumble, voice still shaky with pleasure. "Marcus, please."

Marcus smiles into your shoulder as he works his belt open with one hand.

He'll give you everything he has to offer.