#the preparation of a ground invasion at the end? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moon7jay · 7 months

Note

i keep thinking abt noncon w sunghoon like just imagine….

THIS. like idk but something about being helpless under sunghoon would fix me😩. Sorry it took so long anon but here u go!

Forced to take him (p.sh)

🫴Read part 2 here

Warnings : MINORS DNI, non-con, squirting, creampie, cheating, I guess that's it? , mentions of the word "RAPE"

It's non consensual so please if u are not comfy with it, DO NOT READ.

Your sister's boyfriend was weird to say the least. The first time your sister brought him to your shared apartment was last month and ever since then he has made it his second home. See you wouldn't mind this home invasion if only he didn't glare at you with the most intensity u have ever seen someone direct towards u everytime u were in his vicinity. Dead dark eyes following your every move as u pranced around the house.

Your sister's boyfriend was definitely weird, but you had never sensed any sort of danger from him, despite the hostile stares now and then, you never thought he could cause any real harm to u. Not until..

The first time it happened, you were in the kitchen. feeling a presence looming behind your back as u made coffee "lana why r u hovering" u spoke thinking it was your sister but a response never came. In mild curiosity u turned around and your breath hitched when your eyes met his dark dead ones. He was too close, way too close for it to be appropriate.

"W-what do u want? " U asked his tall figure hovering over you, looking anywhere but his eyes, they made u so nervous, like a prey.

He moved more closer to u, this made u look into his eyes, to assess his intentions but the dark glare that he was giving u made u tense up and press your back to the kitchen counter.

You were not expecting his big hands to wrap around your mid section, a gasp escaping your lips when he squeezed your mid section as if spanning your waist and stomach

"So small" he whispered as if in a trance. Your eyes widened but u were frozen, unable to move or speak, something told u that if u upset him, u could end up bloody on the ground. Tears gathered at your waterline, threatening to fall from your eyes as he kept squeezing more and more.

"I'll have a field day forcing myself inside u" he whispered , his eyes not leaving what he was doing with his hands

The tears finally fell at his words and your mouth gaped like a fish, wanting to say something, scream, anything, wild eyes looked up at your face and all breath left your lungs when he smiled at u in an almost maniacal way

"So pretty when u cry aren't u, it drives me crazy, You drive me crazy" he said moving in to lick your tears, making u shudder and close ur eyes, trying to move your face away from him but a large hand came up to hold the back of your neck to keep u in place and u squeaked when his other hand started groping your ass.

You were full on sobbing now as he moved his tongue to your neck and collar bones, your hands holding on to the edges of the kitchen counter in a deathly grip. His teeth punctured your delicate skin making a pained cry leave your lips and that seemed to catch his attention as he stopped doing what he was doing and stepped back all of a sudden. He stared carefully at your heaving form before walking out of the kitchen like it was a normal Tuesday.

As soon as he was out of sight, your knees buckled and you fell on the kitchen floor, sobbing and trying to catch your breath.

Your sister's boyfriend was weird. And you should have told your sister about it, you should have confronted him, you should have taken his words more seriously, you should have sensed the impending danger, you should have... But you didn't.

The next time it happened, u had just gotten home from classes, hearing weird noises in the living room, your feet moved towards it.

Nothing could have prepared u for the sight in front of you. Your sister was spread open on the couch as her boyfriend fucked into her, her legs over his shoulders. A gasp escaped your lips which made sunghoon and your sister look at you. Your sister started pushing sunghoon out of her to apologize to u but sunghoon's thrusts only got harder as his eyes met yours, your sister struggling underneath him, telling him to stop, but all u could hear was static as his expression morphed into one of pleasure as he held eye contact with you, smiling lewdly at you as he came inside your sister. You turned on your heel and ran up to your room, locking it and leaning against the door to catch your breath.

What the fuck was that.

Outside, you could hear your sister yelling at him but the next second you could hear her moans of pleasure again.

Your sister's boyfriend was so weird.

The sound of your door closing woke u up. Sitting abruptly to look around your darkened room.

"lana is that you? " you asked as u turned to ur bedside to turn the lamp on.

Your eyes met his dark ones and your palms started sweating. Sunghoon stood at the edge of your bed, scanning your skimpily dressed body like a predator. Before you could say anything, he started to unbutton his shirt

"What-what the fuck do u think you're doing? " your voice shook as you asked him

"fucking you" Is what the reply came.

"You c- can't" tears started to gather in your eyes again, why were you so scared of him??

"I'll scream, lana will find out, she'll kick you out" You tried threatening him confidently as he unbuckled his belt, his naked chest on display, you averted your eyes.

"she's passed out baby, some sleeping pills is all it takes" he whispered climbing up on the bed.

Your head could not register his words. He drugged your sister.

He drugged your sister to rape you.

You screamed as he grabbed your legs to bring you closer to him as he hovered over your body. His hands trapping you under him as you thrashed and hit him to let go. You did not see the slap coming, but your throbbing lip was enough to make u stare at him with wide eyes, ceasing all your movements.

"I can bleed you to death u know" He whispered scarily calm. His hand moving behind his jeans to pull out a shiny blade. Tears started falling from your eyes as you whimpered in fear of your life. Something in his crazed eyes told u that he had done this before. This wasn't his first time. Not his first time Raping someone. Not his first time Killing someone.

"Please... " u whispered, your lips trembling and bleeding from his strike.

He pressed the cold blade to your throat

"What's it gonna be baby? Want me to slit your throat so I can fuck you to death? or will u let me fuck your warm body while you're still alive? " He asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect

"Tell me. Dead or alive? "

"A-alive" u croaked, your body starting to shut down from the terror, the blade pressed to your throat making you numb to everything else.

He smiled and tsked in a disappointed way

"Damn u didn't fight much, was looking forward to some blood bath as we fuck" He chuckled and kept the blade back inside the back pocket of his jeans.

Hands started to grope your body, your night gown torn apart within seconds. You layed back and stared at the ceiling, having given up in trying to stop what was about to happen.

You were a virgin, you had been saving yourself for the love of your life. Park Jay. The smartest and kindest boy in your class. You had recently started flirting with him, letting him know you were intrested. You had thought countless times of this moment. But not like this.

Curious and rough hands squeezed your breasts making your breath get heavy, this was painful. His breathing was laboured too but for entirely different reasons than yours.

He leaned over you to press his chest to your tits. "Press them up against me cmon, need to feel them " He whispered in anticipation, you arched your back to do what he said, your nipples rubbing against his own, a hiss of pleasure leaving his teeth "good girl, such a good fuck toy for me"

His hands spread your legs apart and he quickly undid his jeans, just enough to fish out his hard cock. You prepared yourself for penetration, clutching onto your sheets as you watched him jerk himself off.

His teeth biting his lower lip as he stared lewdly at your spread and naked body

"Such a pretty fuck hole" He whispered before hastily slotting himself between your legs, hands grabbing your midsection like he did that day and the next thing you feel is an excruciating pain. A pain so intense as he forces his way inside of you. Your walls are dry but he doesn't even care, curses and whines falling from his lips and he bottoms out in you, tearing your hymen. You start to sob uncontrollably "s-stop please" U croak between sobs but it only causes him to grind more into u

"Beg more for me baby, beg me to stop" He grunts with a hard thrust inside you.

He rests his forehead against yours,hands resting beside your head, tongue darting out to lick your tears once again

"Gonna tear ur pussy so good"

"Like fucking virgins so much" He whispered and pulled all the way out to thrust back in, hitting your cervix in a painful way. A pained scream ripped out of you and he smiled in sick satisfaction. Soon his expression morphed into one of wild desire and pleasure as he kept thrusting inside of you, your body started secreting fluids which made his experience all the more pleasurable and he gritted his teeth at your tight walls

"you like being raped like this don't you? Keep fucking my dick just like that"

"Fuck it baby oh yeah, god so tight"

"It's fun isn't it? Feels so good doesn't it? Pleasure me come on, make me relieve my lust"

His words sound static to your ears as you come on his cock, your body betraying u once again, sobbing continuously, you keep taking his assault.

He groans like an animal when u dig your nails in his back, begging him to stop

"Yeah baby? Want me to stop? " His thrusts getting wilder, pounding your cervix

"ask me to stop, scream for me to stop baby, makes me so hard when u beg "

His dick keeps dragging against your walls in the mix of both pain and pleasure, his hands groping your body as he unleashes his inner animal to fuck into u however he wants, he's on his third orgasm but his dick is still hard in you

"You're gonna make me cum , I'm not the only one enjoying this rape yeah baby? Fuck yeah, squeezing around me so good"

You scream hard at a particular thrust and he laughs while panting

"Oh yeah? "

"Just like that? "

"fuck fuck fuck" he gasps as he comes inside your wet heat again. Fucking his come back inside of your leaking hole, overstimulating your body, your lower region feeling numb, your mind slipping in and out of consciousness.

You felt him pulling out, hissing as he observed your leaking and abused hole

"Fuck yeah" He breathed, turning your body around and mounting you again, thrusting deep inside of you, your face squished against your pillows as he breeds you from behind.

It's animalistic, the way he fucks you.

"Wanna keep it in u forever,can't stop, I can't stop"

"Pussy So good oh fuck"

He groaned, digging his teeth at the back of your neck, you were sure u were bleeding.

Your consciousness left u somewhere in the middle of his animalistic panting and grunts.

When u came to, u found yourself in a mating press, his face right above yours as he fucked u folded in half

"Ah u're awake sunshine, raping u so good yeah? "

He breathes and licks your lower lip. His hips moving relentlessly, grinding into u at a slow pace now

"Open " He panted and as if on autopilot, all strength leaving your body, u open your mouth

He spits in it "swallow" He says and u do. He curses and bites your lower lip as his thrusts become erratic

"Mhmnn fuck yeah, one more oh yeah"

He grunts as he fucks his cum into you. Making u squirt all over him.

His mouth lapping on your pussy is all u feel before u drift into unconsciousness.

Your sister's boyfriend is so weird.

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #enha x reader #enha

1K notes · View notes

haunting-venus · 5 months

Text

wolf in sheep's clothing ↳ jake sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

content warnings | smut ( minors dni ), predator / prey play ( but pretty mild ), oral ( m ), masturbation ( f ), dirty talk, praise, knife play if you squint, facial, accidental stimulation

word count: 3587

notes | here i am for day four of romancing pandora: predator / prey ! first time writing for the man who got me into this fandom and who doesn't love some 2009! jake. these just keep getting longer, its a blessing and a curse

na'vi dictionary | ikran — banshee ; mawey — be calm ; pa'li — direhorse ; tewng — loincloth

Jake’s breath came out in shallow pants, calves burning with exertion as he carried himself as quickly and quietly as he could through the dense foliage of the forest. It was nearing eclipse, the shine of the sun becoming dimmer through the canopies of the massive trees, the more obscured fauna already beginning to glow lightly with bioluminescent colors.

He was a bit embarrassed of how winded he was, taking a pause to put his hands above his head and inhale deep breaths. He did his best to keep in shape after his discharge, but there was only so much cardio you could do while you were planted in a wheelchair.

Luckily, his avatar was quick to build stamina, the lean body adapted to the harsh climate and terrain of the Forest Na’vi. The pads of his feet were rough and strong, thighs tight with muscle to plant himself firmly while climbing trees, lats and biceps sturdy and taut in preparation to swing across vines or scale mountainsides. It was new, weird, and ultimately awesome.

Still, all his physiological adaptations of his new form (his body, he reminded himself, this was his body now) did little to ease the burn in his chest. He’d been running for a while now, ducking down and between trees and vines in ways that his mind remembered but his body was still slowly readapting to.

It was a simple exercise, really. A test to make sure he had adapted to moving and hunting like a Na’vi rather than a Sky Person. He’d become better—learning to quiet his steps, hear the sounds of nature and the wind that could carry his scent and sound, and he was at least trying to feel the energy of the world around. Still, you had wanted to be sure before you brought him on an official hunt, to prevent him from embarrassing both you and him.

You’d begun right after lunch, riding Jake out on your ikran to the far reaches of the forest, miles from Hometree. He’d gotten a head start of about thirty minutes and directions to the general location of Hometree before you’d sent him away with a pat on the back and a knowing smirk.

The task had two rules—1) make it back to Hometree before the eclipse set fully for the night, and 2) don’t get caught.

He’s beginning to recognize the landscape surrounding Hometree, bark marked with knife symbols and stray arrows that preceded the training grounds. He couldn’t be far now.

He knew firsthand how many predators lie in the forest, and they all seemed hell-bent on getting a chunk of his tasty blue flesh, so he wasn’t eager to see one of them again. Then again, there was little in the forest that set his nerves on end more than you.

Your relationship was strange, dancing between the line of ‘absolutely hating each other’ and ‘begrudging friends due to circumstance’. It seemed like you teeteered between them each day depending on your mood or how shitty he was doing in his training.

You’d taken up the mantle of helping Jake with extra training whenever Neytiri was pulled away for her duties as tsakarem, something that was becoming more and more common with the steady invasion of the Sky Demons. You were a strong hunter, more patient than Neytiri was but also twice as demanding. You knew what you wanted done and how, and knew exactly how to get it, even if it meant keeping Jake awake all night practicing his bow stance.

There were times you looked at Jake like he was the scum that stuck to the bottom of your shoe (well, if you wore shoes), like he had single-handedly arrived to make your life difficult. Then, there were the other times. The times when you let your gaze soften as you taught him the words of your people—words like love, and hope and friendship that felt like more than just words when they passed your lips so sweetly. The times when your grip tightens on the bulge of his muscles to adjust his stance, or when your eyes linger a little too long on the exposed skin of his stomach.

It was in those times he felt his mind wander somewhere beyond the defined boundaries of your relationship, to slip into something a little softer, a little hotter. It was starting to become a problem, how ingrained your moods and touches were into the etches of his being, how he was becoming more and more certain that you wanted him just as bad.

Fuck, he could be imagining it, probably was imagining it, but it didn’t matter when you wouldn’t get out of his damn head. You were steady, and tough and so fucking sexy it made his head spin.

He couldn’t help the wandering thoughts as he trailed through the forest, body and mind exhausted from the hours he’d spent watching his every step, craning his head to every sound. His ears twitched up and out, picking up on the low hum of insects and scuffles of small game across the forest floor. He’d been antsy for a while now, the skin rising on the back of his neck and blood thumping through his veins. It felt like he was being watched, that strange dread of being small and targeted creeping up his spine.

The tackle takes him by surprise, the full weight of your body emerging from a low-hanging branch to throw him off balance. He’s a lot bigger than you, stronger too, but this was your terrain and you were definitely in control. He stumbles over vines and rocks as he tumbles back, the impact of the hard ground knocking the breath from his already exhausted lungs.

You’re able to roll off him with grace, readjusting your stance to crouch lowly over him with a mild hiss. Your knife is at his throat before he even has a chance to get his bearings.

“Dead.” Your hot breath hisses over his ear, the cool edge of your knife pressing lightly to his carotid artery.

The blood pounding in his head quickly rushes elsewhere when he’s finally able to take note of your positions. Your face is close enough he can feel your lightly heaving breaths next to his ear, your tail flicking mildly against his thigh as you hold your barely covered sex just above his own. It’s dumb and wrong and he can’t believe he is sporting a halfie right now because what the hell happened to him in life that this gets him hot?

Your gaze softens as he struggles to catch his breath, relaxing your crouch position into a sit on the area just above his loincloth, making him huff. He hopes to whatever god there is on Pandora that you take his flushed cheeks and heavy breathing as anger at being caught and not the mind-bending arousal that was flooding his system.

“You did well, Jake. Most children don’t get nearly this far on their first trial.” You lean back on his lap, knife still dangling from one hand. You clearly don’t seem too bothered with the proximity of your ass to his cock, giving him a teasing look as you praise him. He knew the Na’vi were more open with their sexuality, more casual with touching and feeling than humans but this had to be raising some kind of flags for you.

“Yeah, well, maybe if I had a better teacher…” His voice sounds strained to his own ears, desperate to move the conversation to something, anything, to distract him and get that damn sexy look off your face, like you’ve just won a prize.

Your grin is wide and teasing, easily brushing off his jab. You let your sharp-edged blade trace precariously against the skin of his stomach, voice thick in accented English. “Oh, don’t be a sore sport, Jake. I’m being nice, even though your footsteps are like thunder.”

"Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.” He huffed, leaning a hand behind his head to catch his breath and avoid your piercing gaze.

“Oh, it was. You were moving around like a baby pa’li, just stomp, stomp, stomp.” Your giggles were relentless as you teased him, thumping your feet and tail in loud smacks to drive home your point.

Jake usually would have found it childish, just pushing you off himself and brushing off his shame. Except, your hips swayed dangerously low to the tent in his loincloth with each of your stomping movements, eventually brushing against his sensitive skin and causing heat to shoot through his stomach and up his spine.

“Fuck, don’t move, darling.” His voice was heavier than he meant it to be, his hands instinctively grasping your hips to stop you from moving any further.

Your eyes trail from the flush high on his cheeks to the twitching of his ears, a slow realization coming over your face. Your eyes dilate, tail twitching behind you as you purposefully push your hips back against the growing bulge of his cock. He lets out a groan, fingers tightening against the curve of your hips as he forces his own to stay still.

“I did this to you?” Your expression is unreadable, eyes darting over his face in question.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Jake rubs a hand over his eyes, obviously embarrassed. You tackled him, got on his lap and put a damn knife to his neck, and he popped a boner like a goddamn teenager. Grace is gonna murder him when she finds out this is what gets him finally kicked out of the village. “You just looked so pretty, and my adrenaline was going. It-it’s really natural-”

“Mawey, Jake, it is ok.” You grasp one of his hands, your fingers soft but insistent as you lead him to the dip between your legs. He looks up with questioning eyes, waiting for your permission, before dipping his fingers underneath the soft fabric. He bites his lip as he lets his fingers explore the valleys of your pussy, coming away hot and slick from your arousal.

Your eyes are still focused only on his face, moving your hips idly against his exploring touch as your breath quickens. “It is the same for me. I want you, Jake, all of you, if you will have me.”

He sits up at the waist, letting the fingers from his free hand trace along the edges of your hips and the base of your tail, relishing in the shivers you let out against his chest. He thinks for a moment he must have hit his head too hard since there was no way this strong warrior, this beautiful being so far from anything he had ever known, was offering herself to him.

Except he can feel every breath that huffs from your chest, each twitch of your thighs against his hip, each tremor that wracks your frame when his fingers roll your clit. It makes any rational thought in his head sweep away, pushing his forehead to yours to breathe in this moment.

“Yes, I want you, of course I want you.”

You reached a hand to his face and he could smell the hot musk of your arousal so strongly it made his hips twitch. He leaned his face into your hand, feeling the soft touch of your fingers before pushing his lips to yours impatiently. You sunk into his embrace as he pulled you close, chests brushing one another as you explored the feel of each other for the first time.

Your tongue slipped between your teeth, teasing the edge of Jake’s lips as you opened yourself up to him, letting the sensations of his fingers dipping into your cunt roll over you.

You’d had a few lovers before, fleeting encounters in the night throughout your life, but none had lit your skin aflame like Jake. He was different and a little forbidden, a strong man who threw himself wholeheartedly into the ways of your people and, fuck, you wanted him like no one before.

His hand trails up the length of your ribs, feeling each dip and curve of your figure as your body moves into him. You let out a shaky gasp that borders on a moan when he grips your tit, thumb moving teasingly along the stiff bud of your nipple. You’re trying so hard to keep yourself together, to be the one in control, but can feel yourself crumbling at each press of his fingers against your hot flesh.

Jake groans against your lips, keeping his thumb rubbing against your tit. “Fuck, I love that sound. Let me hear it again, sweet girl.”

“Me first.” You trail your fingers under the hem of his tewng,pulling the fabric down with a tug to the strings. Jake can see the focus of your eyes, almost grounding yourself like you’re trying to regain some sort of control over your body.

Jake’s touch made you feel like you were falling, an exhilarating and nerve-wracking loss of control that had you shaking. You let your fingers slip over the head of his cock, already wet with precum and decorated with little tanhì on the lavender skin. Jake grunts as you let your fingers slide repeatedly over the wet slit, the confident look from earlier returning to your features as you drink in the sounds he makes with each pass of your hand.

“Oh, come on, darling, let me make you feel good. I was just getting started.” His grin is wicked sharp, as dangerous and enticing as he is, his alien fingers rubbing firmly over your clit to prove his point.

“Come now, I successfully got my prey. Shouldn’t I get to reap a hunter’s reward?” Your lips are swollen as you pant the words into his mouth, moving both your hands to twist around the length of his cock. He hardly muffles a moan at the overwhelming stimulation, brows furrowed in pleasure as you let a grin sneak over your lips.

And fuck that shouldn’t make heat run through him like it does, setting his ears aflame as his hips twitch unwittingly into your grasp. Your prey. He certainly felt like it with the coy way your fingers grasped around his cock, each muscle in his body plying to the sweet friction of your touch.

He lets himself relax back against the dirt and moss of the ground, feeling a pang of need go through him at the look in your eyes as you run your fingers along him, imprinting yourself onto him, declaring him as your bounty in the depths of the woods. “God, darling, you look so pretty, wanna feel your lips on my cock so bad.”

“Being quiet was never your strength, was it?” You tease, flicking your tongue out to run along the bumps on his shaft. They glowed lightly in the dim evening, pulsing a bit as he leaked precum onto your tongue with hitched breath.

“Yeah, well, we all have our flaws.”

You hum against the shaft of his cock, vibrations making his thighs tense under you. “Not a flaw, let me hear how good I make you feel.”

With that, you wrap your lips around the darker tip of his cock, letting your mouth fall over the tip and running your tongue along the sensitive underside of his head. Jake leans up on his elbows to get a good look, pushing stray strands of hair from your face to admire how your lips stretch around him.

Your eyes are glassy as you take what you want from him desperately, tongue playing on each edge of his cock you can reach to see what has him keening into your touch. His cock is wide enough to stretch your lips, a bit of drool edging from the corner of your mouth.

His tail flicks frantically behind him, restless against the dirt ground before coiling itself around the top of your thigh. He struggles to keep his hips still, near panting as you ease your lips down his cock, taking a little more each time your head bobs. Your throat spasms a bit as you get halfway down his length, muscles tightening around his cock as you breathe heavily through your nose.

He lets out a startled grunt, brows pinched in pleasure as he looks down at you with half-lidded eyes. “Oh, shit, just like that, darling, doing so good.”

You look almost proud as you gaze up at him from between his legs, leaving one hand at the base of his cock to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth. He vaguely notices your other hand moving between your legs.

“Fuck, are you touching yourself? All wet just from sucking my cock? Fuck, I bet it’s so pretty, all stretched out around your little fingers.”

The moan you let out reverberates up his cock and into his spine, making his fingers clench in your hair. He can hear the wet slide of your fingers now, rolling inside yourself at the same pace your mouth is falling down his cock. He wishes he could see better, the way your cunt stretches around your own touch, how you stroke yourself in the ways that make you feel the best, he wants to learn it all and ingrain it in his memory forever.

“Fuck, I wanna feel you moan on my cock when you cum, don’t stop-”

He groans as your fingers increase their pace between your legs, your body swaying with each of your thrusts into yourself, pushing your mouth back onto his cock with each movement. He can feel his resolve running thin, mouth lulling open in panting breaths as he lightly moves his hips to chase the movement of your tongue.

You breathe heavily through your nose as the pace of his hips increase, restless against the ground as you suckle hard at the head of his cock. Your moans are incessant now, high and vibrating against the sensitive skin of his tip as you ride your own high. Your eyes are glassy with tears, tightening your grip on his cock as he feels you tremble against him.

He’s still getting used to the whole idea of this Eywa thing, but fuck, the way you look on your knees has to be some kind of divine omen if he’s ever seen one.

He can barely see your body from here, the peaks of your breasts barely poking from the decorative weaving of your top, but the feeling of your hard nipples brushing against his thighs as you move against him has him reeling. He can’t help every little thought he’s had of you in that moment surface—of his cock between your tits, teasing the hard nubs until you're shaking under him, of the look on your face as you ride him relentlessly for your own pleasure, of your eyes rolling as he fucks his cum back into you.

He can feel his self-control slipping, hips inching up into your throat and causing it to spasm around him. You let him move his hips against you, looking up with teary eyes as you run short on breath. After a few strokes, you pull off his cock, panting and shaking with need.

“Jake, Jake, I-yes, yes” your grip on his cock is messy and wet, slick with his own precum and your saliva. His hips jump at the rawness of your voice, breathy and wanting just for him. It’s been a while since he’s been in the game but fuck, he knows you’re close, whining and grinding against your own fingers as you struggle to keep your hand on rhythm.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, come for me baby, I’m almost there-”

He can feel the moment you fall apart on your own fingers, breath catching as you still yourself at the head of his cock, suckling hard as your eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy. You end up easing yourself off to pant into the meat of his thigh, chest panting and fingers quivering as they work his cock.

“Cum, Jake, let me have it.” Your lips ghost over his length as you move both hands to grip tight around his cock, twisting your fingers at the base as you rub at the sensitive spot below his head. The grunt he lets out is near animalistic, hips pushing desperately up into your slick grip as he chases the edge of release.

The vibration of your voice and the haze of pleasure in your eyes has him hurtling over the edge, stars painting the blackness behind his eyes. Thick strands of cum paint your cheeks and lips, streaks of pearly white on your beautiful blue-skinned complexion.

A sense of pride and possessiveness swells in him at the sight, like he was the one who got to claim you now, covered in his scent and his seed so everyone would know just what happened in the woods. The idea of you flaunting around, a strong and capable warrior, reeking of the alien intruder as you went about his duties had the dimming heat in his loins flaring as he came down from his high.

He pants as aftershocks thrum through his muscles, exhaustion seeping into his bones as you cradle up beside him. He can vaguely feel a contented purr coming from you, tickling his ribs as he pulls you close to put his nose in your hair. “Next time, I’m the one doing the tracking.”

tags: @eywaite @tallulah477 @neteyamsoare @torukmaktoskxawng

#romancingpandora2024 #avatar 2009 #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully smut #jake sully x you #venus writes #avatar x reader

254 notes · View notes

dduane · 2 months

Note

What are your thoughts on companies like this that offer 'coaching services' for hopeful unpublished novelists?

This smells of scam to me but maybe I'm just a cynic:

Publishing Your Book

Query Letter Coaching/Editing – $550 per book (this includes two passes)

Synopsis Coaching & Editing – $750 per book (this includes two passes)

Proposal Coaching & Editing – $1,500 per book

Traditional Publishing Coaching – $200/hour (finding an agent, crafting your proposal, etc.)

Indie Publishing – $1000 (distribution to all platforms for optimal international exposure, guidance on pricing, blurb-writing, logistics, and keywords)

ISBNs for Indie Publishing – $150 per book format. Free if publishing through [the company selling these coaching services]

Briefly: before I got involved with any such operation, I'd want to talk to (multiple) people they'd worked with previously and find out what kinds of experiences they'd had. And in line with this, I'd be extremely cautious about any operation that wasn't run by professionals with a verifiable track record, and which wouldn't offer verifiable examples of feedback from people whose reality as non-sockpuppets could also be confirmed. And whom you could contact without having to go through the company in question.

On other issues: I'm looking kind of askance at some of those prices. (Here adding the disclaimer: I know people who do this kind of work out of a grounding of significant expertise and in good faith, and I'm not clear on what they're charging because I haven't really looked into it... not particularly needing it myself at this late stage in the game.)

At least part of the problem I'm having with the prices being charged in your example is based on the knowledge of how very much information of this kind is available free online. And yeah, there's the old chestnut about "The advice is worth what you've paid for it"... but that has sort of an unspoken negative corollary: "Except when you've paid for it and it nonetheless turns out not to have been worth much."

The trouble with the non-independent-publishing suggestions is that all of them deal with imponderables. Even if all the advice you purchase from those people at all those varied prices is absolutely right on the money, there's still no way to guarantee that any of it is going to lead to success in getting query letters, synopses or proposals actually looked at. Which puts this whole concept squarely in the nature of a gamble.

Not that luck doesn't have a role to play in a professional writing career. Sometimes you're just standing in the right place at the right time with a manuscript in your hands. But getting the idea that you can depend on that luck for any reason is unwise... as divine Fortuna is anciently famous for wandering all over the room, blowing on other folks' dice. (And if this makes me sound like I fall well down on the "Fortune Favors The Prepared" end of the spectrum: yeah, that.)

My advice would be to spend a good long while online, thoroughly researching all the free sites that have info to offer on all the traditional-publishing-facing topics. Then, after exhausting the available possibilities, if you still think you need to engage paid professional assistance... make inquiries among as many verifiable professionals as you can non-invasively query, before parting with any money at all.

As regards the indie-oriented fees: I'm finding those pretty steep. The prices for ISBNs in particular bother me. (Especially since in many places you can routinely buy packages of ten for about what these folks would charge you for two.) Yes, they're free if you publish with them: that sounds lovely. But publishers would normally buy many of those packages of ten. Or packages of a hundred: the more ISBNs you buy at once, the cheaper they get. And if you're paying the company for other services, who cares about the ISBNs? They're making money off you in different ways. Possibly equally overpriced ones.

So to finish: this is very much caveat emptor territory. There will inevitably be scammers out there, claiming their rates to be less than "bigger companies" are charging, but still too much. Therefore... advance only with utmost care.

...And adding this: @petermorwood glanced at the price list over my shoulder and said, "I wouldn't touch any of those with a barge pole."

At any rate: HTH!

...And now a word regarding our regrettably fickle non-sponsor, via Ol' Blue Eyes. :)

#writing #writing advice #paying for breaking-in coaching #writing meta

115 notes · View notes

sardonic-the-writer · 8 months

Text

𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞

↳ summary: donatello messes with something he shouldn't have, and now you have to deal with five of him. or; a reader insert of an original plot of mine

↳ warnings: fighting & canon type violence

↳ notes: happy halloween! as a treat have the third installment of this series. this takes place after of rats & men, and picks up before the invasion part one. the usual reminders that the reader is autistic, bad with feelings, and that this is a donnie + reader centered series

↳ taglist: @purplehyacinthx

↳ song: ninja rap—vanilla ice

part one | last part | masterlist | commisions | carrd

Donatello was stumped.

For the past few days, he had been locked in his lab. The heavy metal doors that separated him from the rest of his family only ever opened for food and water to pass through its confinements, swinging shut as soon as the transaction had been completed.

The turtle had been tinkering nonstop with some new Kraang technology. After the most recent bust of one of their warehouses sprinkled across New York, Mikey had spotted an odd glowing staff amongst a pile of junk. It had been labeled in a language Donnie couldn’t decipher, and he snatched it up for later, scolding his brother for playing lightsabers with it. Leo and Raph had waved it off without so much as a second glance, claiming that there were much more important things to do than look at a glorified scrap of metal.

That glorified scrap of metal, so to speak, is what he had been messing with for nearly four days. The detailed engravings on it were starting to blur under his gaze now, and the shine of metal from his room’s dull light left imprints on the inside of his eyelids.

“If I just apply the correct amount of pressure—" He mumbled quietly, rubbing at his eyes slowly. Dark purple bags hung underneath them, and if Raph were there, Donnie was sure he would have made a snappy comment about his appearance.

Without warning, a loud crash from the room over shook his lab. Donnie yelped at the unwelcome surprise and was sent bumping into his work table. Glass tubes clinked against each other noisily while he attempted to balance himself on one foot. From its place on the left of his desk, the staff clumsily teetered off the edge in a crude game of see-saw. With one more sigh from Donatello as the shaking stopped, it tipped, falling to the ground with a clatter.

It was scooped up in one quick motion and placed back on the desks surface, now glowing a faint purple as Donatello handled it. He barely spared it a moment's notice before rushing off in the direction of his doors.

“Mikey!” He yelled angrily through the crack he had made. “Would you keep it down?! You almost broke my experiment!”

“How do you know it was me, dude?” A whiney voice answered back.

“Because you’re the only one stupid enough to make that noise!"

Some more words were tossed back and forth between the two before Donatello ended the conversation by slamming the door on his brother. From behind it, he missed the way Mikey blew a fierce raspberry at him as he went back to his own activities.

Grumbling to himself, the teenager stalked back over to his desk. With a huff he flopped in the one good rolly chair he had left and sat lamely as it squeaked around in a circle. Taking a moment to massage at his temples, he only noticed the empty space on his table after he took out his microscope in preparation for another round of tests.

“Hey. Where did the staff go?”

None of the other brothers noticed the purplish-pink ray of light that shone through the crack of his lab door.

The sewers always stunk when you first climbed down into them. You didn't think that would ever change.

Pinching your nose as you oh so carefully descended into water reeking of filth, you looked down at your cracked phone screen one last time. A very poorly spelled text stared back, the words Michelangelo hovering above its contents. With one more furrow of your brows, you attempted to read it, coming up with nothing for the umpteenth time. All you knew was that it sounded urgent, and had a million exclamation points tacked onto the end. Which, knowing Mikey, could either mean that his favorite show had just been canceled or the world was about to end. You really hoped it was the first this time.

You had been walking downtown when the message came through. The trip was an aimless journey, really. You had nothing to do besides sit up in your room all day and look at the graying clouds. April and Casey were off doing their own things, hockey practice and calculus tutoring taking up time that could have otherwise been spent goofing off with you. Or at least snagging some pizza at Antonio’s.

With the promise of a day full of nothing hanging over your shoulders, you'd grabbed a jacket and set off into New York, sincerely hoping that it didn't start to rain anytime soon. Your umbrella had broken last month after someone ran over it with their bike, and you were still angry about it. The print on it had been green and plastered with the cartoony image of snapping turtles. It was part of the reason you had begged to get it as a child. A bit ironic, now that you look back on it.

Your footsteps slowed as you reached the entrance to a hallway that you were slowly getting more and more familiar with. Light breached your vision as you pried at a large metal door in the shape of a circle. A proud smile spread across your face as you stepped back enough to let it fully give way. The first time you’d tried that on your own, you’d ended up flat on your backside as Casey laughed nonstop from his place over you.

Climbing into the lairs entrance was the easy part. Making it a step further was the problem.

“Good! You’re here!” You just barely managed to catch a glimpse of a frantic green figure running around, chasing after someone that would occasionally let out a happy giggle.

“Raph?” You questioned the one out of the two you could recognize. Your brain felt as if it was running at half the speed it normally did. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

Raphael grunted as he went to answer your question, but foregoed the notion to tackle the figure he had been chasing to the ground. A loud oomph left his lips, and you wondered why he hadn’t just used his sais to corner them.

“No time to explain.” He snapped with a huff. “Just help me find the other Donnies.”

“Other Donnies?”

You blinked, watching closer this time as he struggled to keep a hold on the happily squirming figure underneath him. Once you got past the initial shock of having Raph body slam someone to the ground two seconds after you showed up, you got a better look at the person he had pinned. Sure enough, it was Donatello. But at the same time, much much different.

Instead of a purple bandana, a yellow one sat wrapped around his eyes, right above the happiest smile you’d ever seen come from someone. You noticed he also seemed to be devoid of his usual bo staff; something he almost never left without.

He had a faint spray of freckles underneath his eyes, and it reminded you of his younger brother. His normally pristine elbow pads were smudged with soot and water. You recalled a time he had gotten upset with Leo for messing with his leather accessories.

Your eyes continued to sweep over this new addition to the Hamato family. It was like someone had taken your friend and molded him into someone completely new.

“Tag! You’re it!” This new version of Donnie happily laughed, coming up and hitting Raph between the head with a soft boop. His brother's eyes crossed for a moment before growing and looking at you.

“Get the idea now, genius?” He glowered.

“Am I supposed to believe that he—" You limply gestured at the yellow Donnie “—is your brother?”

“No! That’s the whole point! I don’t know what Donnie did with that Kraang thing, but now we’ve got five of him running around and, they’re all crazy!”

When he mentioned the Kraang, you winced. You’d run into them and their oddly humanoid bots a few times before, and were not eager to repeat the process. Last time, it had ended up with a batch of glowing green liquid just barely missing your face.

“So there’s four more of them?” You asked. By now you were approaching Raph, who was tying up the giggling Donatello with rope he pulled from who knows where.

“Yeah.” He tied off the end of a knot gruffly. “Mikey and Leo are handling some of the others right now, but there’s not enough of us.”

“So you called me.” The tone of your voice was very unimpressed as you stared down at him. He returned the look mockingly.

“Yeah, idiot. It’s not like we know anyone else that can help with this.” He stated like it was a fact.

“Uhm, hello? April? Casey? Your dad of all people?”

“Splinter is in a deep meditation session today. And I don't think April or Casey would want to help with this too much.” Raphael brushed off the edges of his shell as he stood. You wanted to tell him that it didn’t do too much, considering the giant crack zigzagging down the front of his plastron, but thought better of it.

“How do you figure?” Was what you settled on.

“Have you seen the way Donnie looks at April?” Raph squinted at you knowingly. “He’s practically a lovesick puppy when it comes to her. We don’t need that right now. It’ll probably end with a turf war between the five of them over her.” A pause. “And Casey would just end up messing things up more than helping.” He added the last part as an afterthought, and you shrugged as if to say ‘fair enough’.

“April? Oh, I love April!” The Donatello lookalike on the ground gasped. Both you and Raph glanced down at him. Besides a few bubbly giggles, he had been so quiet the past few minutes that you’d almost forgotten he was there.

“We know wise guy.” Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Or, at least what you thought was the bridge of his nose. You really couldn’t tell with them.

“Yeah!” Yellow Donnie beamed. “She’s such a great friend! I’m so lucky to have met her.”

At the word friend, your eyes widened. Slowly, as if you had imagined it, you turned to look at Raph in shock, finding him doing the same thing.

“Okay. Something is very wrong with him.” You stated carefully. Like you were talking to a tiny child. Raph nodded, outwardly cringing as he looked back down at the copy and paste of his brother.

“Come on.” He poked at them with the edge of his foot, “Let’s find the others. See if we can figure out what the hell is going on.”

The best way you could adjust to the scene in front of you was with a few seconds of poorly timed surprise.

Raph didn’t stop as you tripped over your own feet, tugging the yellow Donatello along behind him and into the originals lab. Briefly you wondered if there was a better name you could give the new turtle, and filed the thought away fo later.

A part of you had hoped that Raphael was lying, and that this whole thing had been a giant misunderstanding. You wouldn’t put it past the four brothers to get themselves into a load of trouble, only to realize after that it had been entirely their fault. Again.

Four more carbon copies of Donatello sat in various spots around the room. In a weird way, it was like you were looking at a mirror maze with Donnie in the center of it all—his outline projected into each corner of the room. All but one of them were tied up, and you took a moment to get a good look.

Michelangelo was crouching next to someone with a deep blue bandana; not yellow or purple this time. It threw you for a loop to see that color on anyone but Leo, and you took a moment to get used to it. Besides that, the Donatello didn’t appear to be doing anything besides pouting in his confines. His eyes were glassy, and it looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Opposite the room was another version of Donnie. He had on a bright green bandana that stood out against his more muted skin tone. No one stood next to him as he clutched his legs to his chest tightly—not that he had much of a choice, considering the rope around them. He made small rocking motions, going back and forth while his eyes darted around the room frantically. A little pang of sympathy struck you, and you immediately squashed it.

Raphael tossed the smiling Donnie he had caught down next to someone else you couldn’t see. Positioning your neck to crane over Raph’s shoulder, you grimaced at the sight of an extremely dopey looking Donnie. He seemed to be a more tame version.

Much like his yellow counterpart, he was smiling impossibly wide. Looking at him made your face ache.

Instead of insisting on a game of friendly tag, he appeared to be staring off into the distance, occasionally mumbling something to himself as he practically made heart eyes at a brick wall.

“What’s his deal?” You murmured. Raph looked back with a shrug.

“He ran out of here looking like that. Asked where you were when we found him. Been pretty quiet ever since.” He offered. One of your eyebrows practically shot into your hairline at his words, and stayed there as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Raph rolled his eyes. “I know just as much as you do, toots.”

Sticking a finger into your mouth, you pretended to vomit at the nickname. Raph hit you on the top of the head, and you quit the theatrics to take a swipe at him.

“Raph.” A stern voice interrupted both of you, bringing your attention over to a more familiar face. Although, at this point, you were getting plenty familiar with Donnie’s.

“Sorry Leo.” Raphael addressed his brother with a grunt. In the second he took to answer, he seemed to become more stiff, and you instinctively felt the urge to mimic it. Following his line of sight from behind his shell, you found the source of his discomfort.

A fifth and final Donatello sat on top of the originals desktop, legs spread and arms propped gallantly on top of them as he glowered at everything. A singular, vibrant strip of fabric encased his face, and it looked more like a stripe of fresh blood than a mask.

His eyes flickered from each corner of the room to the next. The shade of rusty red you’d gotten used to seeing in Donnie’s eyes felt more lethal now. Cold and calculating. Like the red dot snipers used to scope out their next kill.

This one gave you more of a pause than any of the other Donnies had. A stray finger twitched as you felt the urge to grab at your tazer, and you pushed that feeling down just in time for his steely gaze to land on you. It flickered away a mere second later, and if it had been any faster, you would have thought you imagined it.

“Good. We’re all here.” The mutant spoke firmly. It was identical to the tone that your friend used, but filled with ill intentions. So much so, that your skin crawled with unease at the sound. Silently you willed it to go away.

Leonardo stood off by the red Donatello’s side. His eyes were narrowed in concentration. He barely even nodded in your direction as a greeting before going back to watching the newcomer like a hawk. Tension sparked between them, and your mouth began to feel as dry as their air.

“I see you got stabby here to calm down.” Raph deadpanned as he spoke to Leo and Mikey, nodding once again at red Donnie; whose face had begun to sour. The copycat said nothing as he bore holes into the side of Raphael’s head.

“His name's Ronnie!” Michelangelo piped up before Leo would even get in a word. From the sigh that the leader let out, you could only deduce that they’d already had a fight over Mikey's inability to not nickname something for more than five seconds. The older turtle had apparently lost this round.

“Creative.” Raphael said sarcastically.

“Thanks dude!” Mikey preened, not catching onto the tone. “I call him that because red and Donnie makes Ronnie!”

“Wouldn’t that make his full name Ronatello?” You snickered to yourself at the sound of it, successfully bringing the attention of the so called Ronnie to yourself. You let your laughter pitter out under his gaze.

“Enough small talk. We have much to discuss.” He frowned. You repeated the action back in his direction; admittedly with a bit more attitude than you probably needed to.

Looking away from you with a huff, he jumped off the table in one smoke motion. For the first time, you noticed him twirling a shiny object in his hands. It resembled the bo staff that the Donatello you knew constantly hauled around; granted with a lot of modifications. Glowing purple symbols ran up and down the sides, and the color scheme immediately reminded you of the Kraang.

At the sight of you looking, Ronnie held it tighter.

“Listen.” He began harshly. “I don’t know why I’m here. Why we’re here. But I know we don’t belong. If any of my other counterparts had a brain, I’m sure they’d agree with me.” He sighed at the reference to everyone else in the room. Boredom crept in through his voice like a poison.

“Do you have any idea how to fix this?” Leo cleared his throat in a business like fashion. You almost applauded him for being so calm about this, and then noticed how he’d occasionally glance at the blue Donnie’s mask with a hint of distaste. Fair enough. That was his brand, you suppose.

“No, I don't.” Ronnie bit out as the answer to Leo’s question, looking upset at just having to admit it. “If I had to guess, this had something to do with it.”

He held out the stick you’d been paying attention to earlier with conviction. Leo positioned his palm outward as if expecting Ronnie to drop it in his hands, and awkwardly drew it back when he realized that they weren’t letting go of it anytime soon.

“Donnie was messing with that a few days ago!” Mikey mentioned from somewhere next to you. He was still low to the ground, talking to the blue Donatello— who looked less like crying, and more like he was pouting.

“I saw an episode on TV like this once.” You cut in. “This is Kraang technology, right? In the show, some guy touched a, uh, alien thing he shouldn’t have and ended up with, like, split personalities. In this case I guess they ended up turning into real people. Er, turtles.”

“Oh great. Thanks for the help. Now we know exactly what we have to do.” Raph rolled his eyes and said your name. This time you were the one to deliver a hearty slap to the back of his shell. Somewhere below you, a strangled gasp sounded. Looking down, you discovered that the pink Donnie had moved his staring contest from the wall to you, mouth open wide enough to catch a dozen flies. You crinkled your brow suspiciously and made a face back.

“Stop it guys.” Leo directed a stern look at the both of you. You broke uncomfortable eye contact with the Donnie clone just to point at Raph as if to say he started it. Ronnie watched on, his gaze on you growing more and more unimpressed by the second.

“However juvenile the explanation, your friend may have a point.” Ronnie eventually concluded. While you most certainly didn’t appreciate the tone in which he said it, you grinned sardonically at him. Somewhere behind you someone— who you were sure was the yellow Donnie —praised you for doing a good job. You ignored him.

“So, what? We’ve got Donnie’s different personalities running around?” Raph chewed at his bottom lip in thought. You nodded, taking your TV show theory and running with it.

“If I had to guess, you guys are all based on his different emotions.” You directed your words to Ronnie. He raised an eyebrow and nodded, a silent motion to continue.

“Yellow probably means happiness.” A finger came up as you physically counted the doppelgängers surrounding you. “Blue for sad, hence all the crying, green for nerves, and pink for affection. But I’m spitballing on the last one.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of paranoia for the green guy.” Raph snorted. You briefly looked back at the subject of your conversation, now finding him in the fetal position, and shrugged.

“Yeah that checks out.” You nodded. “If I had to guess, Ronnie over here is something along the lines of anger or annoyance.”

At the mention of his name, Ronnie blinked blankly at you. You scoffed.

“Come on man. You’ve practically been staring daggers at everyone this entire time.”

“And he tried to kill us!” Mikey supplied you with way too much enthusiasm.

“I’m ignoring that in favor of moving on.“

As you turned back to look at him, Ronnie didn’t look any kind of soothed by your words. If anything his glowering only increased.

“Well maybe if I wasn’t surrounded by such simpletons—"

“Alright guys.” Leo butt in with his eyes screwed up. “We can argue later. For now, let’s focus on getting things back to normal.”

“More normal than living in the sewers?”

“Mikey, I think I like you better when you’re quiet.”

“Aw, you’ve been saying that for years big bro!”

Ignoring the exchange between Raphael and Mikey, Ronnie’s gaze was still locked on you. It took a bit of unrelenting eye contact for him to back down first.

You didn’t feel any better afterwards.

“Fine.” Ronnie huffed. With a one last survey of you all, he turned to the more cluttered part of Donnies lab.

“Does anyone know where to find a good microscope around here?”

It had been five hours since Ronnie had started his research with Leonardo, and you were this close to tearing your hair out.

After calming the other personalities down— and having them promise that they wouldn’t run the second you untied them —they had been released from the ropes. True to their words, none of them sprinted in the nearest direction of an exit. In fact, most of them looked pretty content to stay sat shoulder to shoulder in the living room—all gathered around a rerun of some sitcom. Green was the only exception. He hadn’t stopped chewing at his nails ever since being let out, and flinched at any approach you made to invite him over.

It was like trying to babysit four extremely tall toddlers. One minute you were calming Blue down— you had given up on nicknames beyond the colors of their masks —and the next you were shaking Pink off your leg. For some reason, that one really didn’t like to get too far from you. At this point you were considering just strapping him down again.

“I am going to kill something if they don't hurry up.” You had complained to Mikey after being sent for snacks in the kitchen. He shrugged sheepishly and went back to feeding Ice Cream kitty with sprinkles in a high pitched voice. Tossing the chilly mutant a slight wave, you pushed past the two to gather up as much food in your arms as possible.

Yellow gave you a large gapped tooth smile when you returned to drop a bag of chips into his lap. It crinkled faintly.

“Salt and vinegar.” He ogled at the blue bag like it was the holy grail. “My favorite!”

“I know.” You said blandly while handing the rest of the bags out. “For some reason that’s always been Donnie’s choice. With how much he talks about Mikey’s bad eating habits, he sure does choose the worst flavor possible.”

Yellow rewards your spiel with a happy hum. Chip crumbs already dotted the outside of his mouth, and you resisted the urge to reach over and bat them off with your sleeve. You might have done that with Donnie, but he wasn’t here right now. Just a bunch of strange versions of him.

You didn’t like the way your heart seized at that.

“So what’s up with you and us? Or Donatello. The other Donatello.”

The lairs ceiling came into brief contact with your head as you practically jumped five feet in the air. Sometime during your talk with yellow, Green had shuffled over to loom silently over your shoulder. Different Donnie, same bodies, and same freakish height difference.

He repeated the question again, although significantly quieter.

“Give me a minute to get used to my new concussion.” You grumbled without any real malice. He shrunk away at that and wrung his hands anxiously.

Once you got over the initial spook, your brain booted back up to fully process the question.

“What do you mean?” A hand thrust itself out from your person and offered Pink, who had found his way to your side again, another bag of chips. He took it with a breezy giggle you’d only heard from Donnie when he talked to April. You looked at him suspiciously before moving on.

“You seem to have a strong relationship with him.” Greens reiterated. He appeared to have settled on talking about his original with a separate tense.

You made a face in his general direction as a response. Combing through the last few days in your mind, you came up with nothing, offering an unbothered shrug.

“He’s friends with my friends. And a talking turtle. It’s not like I can really go to anyone else for the crazy stuff that happens to me.”

Green squinted at you. It was the closest emotion other than fear that he’d shown so far. He might have added more to the conversation, if the way his mouth opened told you anything, but his brief inhale was cut short by a sudden noise. It startled him so much, this time he was the one to jump up in the air and scurry away.

“Guys, I think we’ve found something.”

Leonardo had been the one to interrupt your conversation with a loud thump. From his place across everyone in the living room, he looked disheveled. His mask tails were laying over each of his shoulders, and looked like a very weird version of pigtails.

Wordlessly, you looked up at him from his sudden appearance, nodding curiously in the direction of the others. It was a silent question.

Leo shook his head back at you in the form of an answer, and you ended the mental exchange with a pat to your legs.

“Hey Mikester!” You yelled loud enough to where it would reach the kitchen. Five pairs of eyes followed your gaze. “I’ve got to use the bathroom! Watch the others!”

“That’s not the way to the bathroom—"

You completely ignored Blue as you slipped through the doors to Donnie’s workplace. With a creak, they swung shut, and you were left staring at two stiff turtles.

“Do you really have to be that obvious?” Ronnie’s lips dipped into frown territory as he commented on your less than graceful departure. He was sitting yet again on the desk's countertop, balancing a clean test tube on his knee pad as he messed with a metal scrap.

You noted the pairs of gloves and safety goggles he wore—equipment that Donnie had personally modified to fit his body. The ease at which they were worn on someone else sent a spark of emotions through your bloodstream.

“Do you really have to be such an asshole?” You deadpanned after a moment of tense silence.

The look-a-like glared at you, but said nothing else.

“Listen up,” Leo said your name, clearly not entertained by the conversation that had just played out in front of him. “We think we’ve found a way to get Donatello back.”

Strolling up to the station that they were standing around, you peeked past the katanas on Leo’s shell to see the silver staff from earlier. It was propped firmly on the table, and a few pieces of its outer shell had been stripped away, revealing an internal structure of wires zigzagging over one another.

If the way he was twitching anxiously said anything, Ronnie didn’t exactly like it.

“I’m listening.”

Leo launched into a fumbled explanation of what they had been tinkering with. From what you could pick up, they had been looking at the inside of it to get a feel for how the device worked, and now Ronnie had a general idea of how to send all five of them back to wherever they had come from.

Overall, the choppy explanation was filled with words you were sure he didn’t understand; and neither did you. Normally you would stop to ask Donatello what most of them meant, and if he was feeling bold he’d launch into an entire explanation. As you side eyed Ronnie from your spot next to him, you didn’t think you’d be doing that anytime soon.

“So my hypothesis, or whatever it’s called, was right?” Your hoodie pockets were filled with the absentminded fiddling of your hands as Leo paused to consider your words. He nodded at you in conformation.

“We think that the staff was meant to multiply Kraang bots. Making them stronger and faster than before.”

“Oh oh wait, let me guess. It didn’t work.”

“Obviously not.” Ronnie sighed at your obvious sarcasm. His tooth gap created a whistling noise that you had heard many times before. “Instead of dividing one organism into multiple, stronger organisms, it simply split the subject into parts of itself.”

It was strange. How such a small, skinny device could cause so much ruckus in just one day. You had been looking for some entertainment, but nothing that involved this level of calamity. Or effort, if you were being honest. You liked the guys, but you also liked really long and really uninterrupted naps.

“Do you know how to reverse it?”

Ronnie fell silent. Observing him through the pair of tinted lab goggles around his face proved difficult, but you picked up on the way his jaw clenched dangerously. A lone vein strained against his neck.

“Yes. He does.” Leo answered for him, awkwardly glancing between you and the other member in the room. You didn’t take your eyes off the duplicate long enough to notice.

“What do we have to do then?” Came your eventual query. “Gather all of them up and force ‘em back together?”

“I think it’d be a bit more intense than that.” Leo tilted his hand sideways and shook it in a wavy motion, symbolizing the difficulty of the situation. You resisted the urge to mimic the action curiously.

Craning your neck, you turned to look at Ronnie expectingly.

“Well? Come on smart guy, what’s the plan.”

He had angled himself away from the both of you. The expanse of his shell rose and fell as he breathed, and it was oddly quiet. Scars of all kinds dotted the back of his shell, and you couldn’t recall ever seeing them on Donatello’s before.

“Ronnie?”

“The plan—" He clutched at the staff tightly. You didn’t remember him even reaching for it. “—is to get rid of them.”

You exchanged a wary glance at Leo, and saw that he was slowly reaching for the katanas at his back. The hilt unsheathed with a cool hiss.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up.

“Alright.” You took a slow step backward in the direction of an exit. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Ronnie positioned the staff in front of him as he spoke. The top end of it peaked over the crest of his head. With a nervous swallow, you watched as he methodically placed the scraps of metal that had been torn off of it back on. “Unfortunately, they seem to be a little late.”

Without warning, Ronnie whipped around and launched himself off of the table. Red and green mixed together in a blur of ugly brown before your eyes. You didn’t waste time seeing if he was heading for you or Leo—you just kicked your legs into gear, fumbling to keep your balance as you ran.

Blood began to pool in the lower corners of your mouth. Without having to feel around, you knew you’d bit down on your tongue. The throbbing pain was almost as bad as the burst of purple light that skimmed by the side of your head. It was close enough for you to feel the whoosh it left behind, as well as the scorching heat. Your pulse began to thrum louder.

“It’s always the weird ones!” You half screamed, half heaved over the sound of fighting. Leo offered no response other than a few grunts and a clashing of metal versus metal. It offered you no relief—other than the fact that a giant angry mutant wasn’t at your heels.

Okay, so a little relief. Sorry Leonardo.

“Don't bother trying the doors.” Ronnie smiled widely in your direction. He threw his arm back for another strike, and it landed in the middle of Leo’s plastron with an oomph.

You, being stupid, tried the doors anyway.

“Alright, alright, alright. I guess I’m doing this today.” You sucked in a sharp breath of when they refused to give way. Turning from the handles and glancing around the room, you looked for something that could possibly help. Leo appeared to be holding his own against the parallel version of his brother, but you had no idea how long that would last. Especially with the threatening glow coming from his staff.

While you scrambled to think of something— of anything —a fat drop of sweat rolled down the expanse of Leo's neck.

His footing was growing increasingly sloppy as Ronnie pushed him further and further back to the wall. Each lunge was as fierce as the last, and trying to strike back was like hitting a brick wall. A brick wall that was coated with concrete and surrounded by titanium. Either Donnie had been working out lately, or the staff had given him some serious upgrades

“Why are you doing this?!” Leo was just barely able to speak over it all. Even still, Ronnie pushed on.

“Donatello is weak.” He snarled. The corners of his lips curled up in tandem with a sweep at Leo’s legs. The leader barely managed to jump over it while blocking yet another jab from the Kraang staff. It was humming loudly now, and the noise unnerved him.

Leonardo was faintly aware of the yelling and desperate banging coming from the opposite side of the nearby door. It sounded like the rest of his brothers had caught on to what was happening and were trying in vain to get in. Leo wondered why the hell he hadn’t insisted on Raph staying with him now.

“Your brother is a joke!” Ronnie continued angrily. He landed a hit on Leo’s shoulder this time.

“He won’t stand a chance against the villains out there. He wouldn’t stand a chance against me! None of you could! I should be the one protecting this city. The only one. I’m the better version of you; unbothered by junk food and affection.” He spat the last part like it was the name of a disease.

“Leave April out of this!” Leo stepped back enough to point the end of one of his katanas at Ronnie, his mouth pulled into a thin line of anger. It made the red-masked foe pause as his face dropped.

“You all are more idiotic than I thought.” He gritted his teeth with obvious annoyance. “I was not referring to that human—"

Without another word, Ronnie begins to jolt in place. Wide eyed, Leonardo watches as the enemy seemingly glitches, arms spasming and body glowing in a nearly see-through manner. He manages to get out a few more violent spasms before collapsing to the floor in a heap of limbs and shell.

Behind his folded figure stands you, chest heaving. A very different looking tazer sits heavily in your hand.

Leo says nothing. He simply looks between you, then the tazer, then you, and then back at the tazer again. After a moment of eyeing the new chunks of technology nestled along its sides, he slowly lowers his gaze to look at Ronnie.

“Sorry. I was going to let him finish his evil speech, but he sounded too much like ‘Tello and it was starting to freak me out.”

You step over Ronnie’s body cautiously and quickly make your way over to Leo’s side. Silence encompasses the two of you, and each one wonders what the other is thinking.

“So new weapon, huh?”

“Don had some stuff lying around. I figured it was time for an upgrade.”

It was then that the lab doors decided to burst open, providing its mostly conscious inhabitants with a bunch of yelling mutants. Somewhere in the entanglement of green limbs, you thought you saw Yellow trip and fall on his face.

“Mikey, put the pizza box down. We already got it.”

At the request of his older brother, Michelangelo sheepishly lowered the greasy cardboard box. Ice cream kitty had been resting on its yellowed surface; looking very melted and very fierce as she bared her tiny chocolate fangs.

“What the hell happened!” An angry voice shouted. Its owner shoved past the mini crowd that had gathered around Ronnie, and Raph stormed forward. His sais were pointed in the direction of the ground, but you couldn’t help thinking he looked angry enough to use them.

“We were just talking about how I should probably start training.” You rolled your eyes and expertly avoided the question.

Ignoring the way that Leonardo sent you a very ‘I told you so’ look, you scoot forward slightly to nudge at Ronnie’s leg. It rolls with the force of the action before motionlessly falling back into place.

“How did you know that would stop him?” Leo clears his throat to ask. The group watches him in joint confusion at his words. He simply points at the upgraded tazer in your hand to clarify.

“I didn’t.” You frowned. “I just grabbed some of the leftover scraps from the table you were messing at, and put it on this.” You held your trusty weapon up with a small shake, jumping slightly when it sparked in your hand.

“I don’t spend so much time around a bunch of nerds without picking up a few things, dude.”

“Guys—" Mikey spoke up. He sounded shaken, and everyone saw as he crept toward the door when they looked up.

“As much as I love cool sticks, I think that one has something seriously wrong with it.”

You looked at the only cool stick in the room, yelping as it shook violently in place. A giant purple ring had surrounded it sometime during your impromptu catch-up, and looked like the definition of bad news.

“Everyone out!” Raph yelled, pointing at the nearest exit while making a dive for it himself. You barely managed to make it out the doors after him, throwing your arms in front of your face as you landed face down on the cold concrete below.

A large explosion sounded from behind you just as you managed to lift your head. The smell of gunpowder and something more acidic filled your nose as you coughed. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was your nose hairs burning. It was probably your nose hairs burning.

“Where are the other Donnies?”

It was almost as if Leo’s question had summoned him. Well, maybe. You didn’t know. What you did know was that a grating noise began to fill your ears— making you feel like this living hell was finally complete —before a pair of charred lab doors peeled back to reveal a burnt looking Donatello.

His face was covered in soot from top to bottom, and the rest of him looked the same. He had on singed knee and arm pads where they previously lay spotless. The strap around his chest was black at the edges. Confusion peppered his face.

But most importantly, that familiar lilac mask was back where it belonged.

“Yes!” You shouted your name with a whoop. All of the turtles turned to look at you on the ground, observing the triumphant smile stretching from ear to ear. “I save the day, and the turtle! Again!”

Mikey, Raph, Leo, and Donnie all let you have your moment of victory. The latter of them all looked confused and equally as tired. Still, he waited for you to tire yourself out, which didn’t take long.

“Should I even ask.” He coughed as you calmed down. Leo shook his head while Raph scoffed.

“I thought dealing with one of you was bad enough.” Raphael snorted. Despite his harsh words, a glimmer of relief swam to the surface of his gaze, and Donnie pretended not to notice.

You fully retired from the conversation as Master Splinter eventually entered the room, looking frustrated to no end.

“What is all this noise?” His tone bordered on harsh. “You broke me out of my seven days of meditation.”

You focused on melting into the cool sewer floor as the four turtles stumbled over each other's explanations. Leo yelped out something about sparring, while Mikey cut him off with his own explanation. The only time you tuned back into the conversation was when Raph mentioned your name.

With a snicker, you propped yourself up from the floor to look at everyone.

“Sorry Master Splinter. We were just beating the shit out of Donnie’s evil clone.”

Everyone around you immediately exploded into yelling.

You weren’t able to make eye contact with any of the boys for the rest of the night without laughing—set off by their look of utter betrayal.

“I can’t believe you’d rat us out.”

“That’s what you get for making me babysit four of Donnie, asshole.”

They all forgave you when you showed up with pizza the next day.

200 notes · View notes

uss-edsall · 5 months

Text

I love ArmA III's campaign, because you are not special forces.

You aren't, even, technically an infantryman.

You are treated accordingly.

The result of it is a remarkable criticism in its own right of the worldwide fascination with Special Forces, and the morally grey-to-black work they swim in; viewed from the perspective of someone who isn't one of them.

Spoilers below.

ArmA III's campaign is very similar in premise to literally every previous entry. It goes back to its roots.

Preamble

In Operation Flashpoint, a rogue communist general destroys American force presence on an island, and you fight to liberate said island. In Armed Assault, the communist leader of the northern nation on an island attacks its neighbor just as American forces are withdrawing from the country. You play those American forces, fighting alongside the monarchist neighbor. In ArmA II, you play American marine special forces who perform pre-invasion operations in a Not-Eastern Europe Country, then support the marine invasion -- and then have to go to ground and fight alongside the rebels you were previously fighting when the US abruptly withdraws.

ArmA III starts out similar to Armed Assault. You are Corporal Kerry, an American logistics (truck) driver for Task Force Aegis, a multinational peacekeeping force formed by NATO, in the aftermath of a civil war in the Republic of Altis and Stratis. The campaign, set in 2035 (which was 23 years away at the game's release), is all centred around a time of a superpower being created through mass alliances.

The enemy is CSAT (Canton Protocol Strategic Alliance Treaty), a superpower created through a mass alliance of nations like China and Iran. They are surging in power as American and NATO supremacy/hegemony declines.

The Republic of Altis and Stratis is the victim of Great Power Proxy Wars. In 2026, a dictator named Colonel Akhanteros seized power, sparking a civil war between the former regime's loyalists and the country's military, the Altis Armed Forces (AAF) under Akhanteros' command. From 2026-2030, the Altian Civil War devastated the nation, ending in Akhanteros' victory. TF Aegis has been in the nation ever since, trying to prevent civil war from breaking out again and largely opposing former-Loyalist fighters. TF Aegis is preparing to leave in 2035.

Just days before Task Force Aegis finishes its withdrawal and leaves for good, the AAF - previously denigrated and constantly insulted by the Aegis members who had been training them to take over once they left - suddenly attack, overwhelming the few remaining Aegis members, and devastates the NATO force. Why they did this is not made immediately clear.

You, Corporal Kerry, are one of the few survivors.

Chapter One

In the first 'chapter,' of the campaign, during the destruction of TF Aegis you make contact with a British special forces guy named Miller, leading something called the CTRG (Combat Technology Research Group). They openly admit to be Special Forces, claiming to be British special forces in particular and performing clandestine operations in the country. They seemingly chose to throw away their secrecy to save the few members of Aegis they could. Less than a handful of your allies remain, rescued from certain death and brought to the CTRG basecamp.

During this time, Kerry, Aegis, and the CTRG fight a war of resistance against the AAF, securing various objectives and attempting to strike back, certain that NATO will send a quick reaction force to retaliate and rescue you. In one notable mission, you provide support to the special forces as they try to take back a communications outpost to call for help from NATO. The CTRG abruptly declare that all the tech in there's useless, they're blowing the place up, and you withdraw.

During the chapter, the CTRG members, even their charismatic second-in-command James that's immediately likable, make it clear very quickly that they're not telling the peacekeeper survivors their real mission objectives, nor what exactly are they doing there. This makes your Aegis allies uneasy on their presence. You, Corporal Kerry, are left in the dark for a lot of things, but James makes you want to like him. The fact they're Special Forces make you want to trust them.

Corporal Kerry, who by then has already pulled off some frankly impossible tasks to ask of a logistics truck driver before these events, doesn't much like this:

Kerry: Respectfully, sir, when the hell are you going to tell us what's going on? Miller: Saying 'respectfully', Corporal, and proceeding to be disrespectful somewhat defeats the purpose, don't you think? ... Look, I can't say exactly what happened. What I can say is what's happening right now. We're headed to Altis. There's a local guerilla movement there - FIA - the same guys that got themselves killed for us back on Stratis. We'll make a quiet entrance and link up with them.

The first chapter ends with you trying to escape Altis to reach the island of Stratis. The AAF finds you all and proceed to obliterate you and your allies with extreme prejudice.

Chapter Two

The second chapter begins with you waking up from having been knocked unconscious, washing ashore next to the body of a CTRG member.

You are the only survivor of Task Force Aegis.

The CTRG makes contact with the loyalist resistance remnant -- and it is revealed that the CTRG have worked with the resistance before. During the civil war, the CTRG were secretly supporting the loyalists; the same insurgents the protagonist was fighting for the past couple years before the AAF turned on them. Captain Miller and Lieutenant James are surprised as hell that you, Kerry, are alive. Pleasantly surprised, though. They proceed to order you to do another impossible task.

During this chapter it is revealed that CSAT is now backing the AAF. Moreover than that, CSAT has deployed troops to the island, not as peacekeepers but as reinforcements. The CTRG remains shady, and continues to leave Kerry in the dark. One mission begins with you supporting the CTRG and the guerillas in a convoy ambush, but abruptly, you end up in charge. The CTRG have some other pressing objective they won't tell you about, and they leave you behind.

You aren't special forces. They don't trust you.

Kerry: But - with respect - what about the convoy? Are we still on for that? James: You ask a lot of questions, Corporal. Don't worry. Miller will be in touch soon. You'll know what to do.

While Kerry's relationship with the guerillas starts out rocky, by the end of this chapter they trust him implicitly. He has fought beside them, bled beside them, they are brothers in arms.

At the end of the second chapter, you return to Altis, having wreaked havoc on Stratis and been reinforced by the guerillas. Causing great damage, it feels like you're making an effective push against AAF forces.

Then NATO arrives.

This should be happy, for NATO is finally here to save the day, except the first thing NATO does is open fire on the guerilla forces, killing Stavrou, the leader of the group. Kerry tries to call on the CTRG, begging for their help in stopping this - the CTRG do not respond. In the end, it's up to Kerry to make contact and stop the slaughter.

Except when you meet the NATO commander...

Kerry: What about Captain Miller, sir? He was supposed to establish [communications] with your main force. Crossroads: I'm sorry, who? Kerry: Captain Scott Miller. UKSF? Kinda ... talks like he's got a stick up his ass all the time? Crossroads: The British? The Brits are no longer operating in this area. To my knowledge, they've been out since May. And, regardless, we have no record of a Captain Scott Miller.

Chapter Three

The third chapter begins with Corporal Kerry disgraced.

Soldier 1: Yeah, that's him. The 'guerrilla' guy. Soldier 2: He's been hiding on Altis this whole time?

Kerry is all but accused directly of desertion. Some of the American soldiers even suspect Kerry was part of the massacre of TF Aegis. After all, he's alive and literally nobody else is - and he's claiming to have survived because of some special forces of a nation that hasn't had forces on the island in months.

However, all are needed to report for duty:

Armstrong: And - while we're on the subject, Corporal - were it up to me, you'd be stuck here spit-shining latrines until a court-martial deemed you fit for duty. Lucky for you, command doesn't feel likewise. But make no mistake, you fuck up just once - you endanger any of my men - and you're gone.

Not that 'all hands on deck' means you're facing great responsibility, not initially. You're guarding a slum. That is until CSAT attacks, and kills every member of the squad you were in while you were reporting incoming fast boats. You and the remnants of another unit are rescued by the guerrillas you'd previously fought beside. The guerrillas will only fight with you as their liaison, and so you're back in action. What follows is fairly typical war combat whatever as the American forces push back against the AAF and their CSAT support. As you secure an airport however, an earthquake shocks the island, albeit briefly. In the next following missions, earthquakes repeatedly shake the island.

After some more battles - during which you periodically fight with the guerrillas or other American troops - Kerry is informed that the investigation into his conduct in the "Stratis Incident" has finished. He is cleared of any wrongdoing.

The commander still cautions Kerry not to get involved with the "Brits and their black ops bullshit".

During the second to last mission of the third chapter, Kerry suddenly gets a transmission.

It's Lieutenant James, the second-in-command of the CTRG, and he's dying. He broadcasts his coordinates. You have two options.

Keep Kerry's nose out of the Brits and their black ops bullshit.

Respond and see ce quoi the fuck is up.

Endings

Option One

Kerry disregards the message and returns to NATO forces. Obviously you're not the only one who heard it. Your commander compliments you, and assured of your reliability, offers the opportunity to be a major component of the coming battle.

AAF forces are defeated. CSAT withdraws with little to zero fanfare. The AAF and Colonel Akhanteros give their formal surrender, ending the conflict.

Congratulations, Kerry.

This is the canonical route, as DLC and other scenarios depend on this to have gone this route.

Option Two

You've been advised by your new commander to keep your damn nose out of those Brits and their spec-ops bullshit, but, damnit -- the CTRG saved your life! James is your friend, he needs help, he's dying! Sure they're shady and Kerry was never trusted with any info on what they were doing - but…!

Kerry chooses to respond to the distress call. One last angry transmission from your commander ends when Kerry turns off his radio.

From this point on NATO forces will shoot you - you're considered renegade, a deserter.

Kerry finds James. James and his squad of CTRG troops were ambushed by CSAT special forces and destroyed. With his dying breath James requests you deliver a truck loaded with something called the Eastwind Device on it. You have to defeat the remaining CSAT troops, but once you get it, you deliver it to Captain Miller.

Kerry is at the end of his rope. He has come to dislike Miller greatly - but he has still done the bidding of the CTRG like a good puppy desperate for his master's affection.

The video below shows this cutscene in verbatim.

Nonetheless I will write it out, as it provides more context. Kerry drops off the Eastwind Device and approach Captain Miller. Kerry is beginning to connect the dots. This Eastwind Device is what this has all been about! The CTRG did not support the loyalists because their cause was one to believe in. They did not rescue TF Aegis out of the goodness of their hearts. In fact, it's likely the fact they're here at all is the entire reason why this war broke out, as the AAF invasion began within hours of the CTRG arrival.

They used you and your forces as disposable pawns, expending you in different actions to provide themselves opportunities to get at the Eastwind Device. The communications station? It was perfectly fine - the CTRG blew it up to delay NATO's counter-attack so the Eastwind Device remained where it was. Stavrou and the guerillas being blown up by NATO? CTRG passed on faulty information so they could tie up a loose end by getting him killed. NATO forces getting devastated in a major assault against what was supposed to be a lightly armed garrison, but turned out to be the single hardest strongpoint on the island? CTRG passed on faulty info so that CSAT wouldn't evacuate quite so fast.

Kerry's angry as hell, yelling at Miller. As this is happening, CSAT launches a massive assault against the island. Miller, saying "I like you," says that he has to go - but he promises he'll be back in an hour if you stay here.

As the credits begin rolling, over the radio you hear every single American unit you've fought with report that they are being overwhelmed, ending with your commander's broadcast before he too is killed.

CSAT, in trying to get their superweapon back, obliterates an American division. Ergo, in giving the CTRG the Eastwind Device, you just started World War Three.

There's a follow-on mission.

Whereas the previous mission ended in broad daylight, this one begins at 4 AM. CTRG didn't come back. All out war has broken loose and combat rages all over the island. Kerry desperately calls for Miller again. Like a good dog, he's been waiting for evac.

Miller: Kerry? Look, the situation has changed. It's too late. With what we're dealing with here, I simply can't take the risk. I can't return to the warzone. I'm sorry, you're on your own. Kerry: What?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Fuck you, Miller! I risked my ass, saved your life, all for what? A fucking suicide mission?! Miller! Respond! Just what the hell was this all about?! Falcon! Goddamnit, do you read me?! Son of a bitch!

They have abandoned you to die. Miller never intended to return at all.

You? Kerry? The lucky truck driver who always came back from impossible mission after impossible mission? A useful pawn. A gullible idiot. Miller has sabotaged you and yours, used you, TF Aegis, the FIA rebels, all as cannon fodder and distractions for his real objective. Every time you survived another impossible mission he goes, "huh, neat," and sends you out on a new one. Never once allowing you in to the privileged group of CTRG special forces because, even though you're pulling off heroic feats you aren't special forces. They never trusted you. They never were ever going to trust you.

You must find any way to get off the island, and in a remarkable show of giving the player free agency, you can have any escape route. Find a boat and escape on it. Literally just swim for twenty minutes straight. Steal a helicopter. Committing suicide is an option, even. You can also find a couple surviving guerillas and a scant few surviving NATO troops who can join you. Regardless, that's where the main campaign ends on this non-canon route.

Conclusion

The ArmA III campaign focuses on something very rare, both for 2013 when it came out and even still today:

The regular trooper, and what it means to be the outsider looking in on the Special Forces.

In the non-canon ending, the ruthless CTRG operators used Kerry until there was nothing left, and then dangled him out on a dying vine. You aren't SOF.

TF Aegis was a victim of the great power proxy war. Having learned that the CTRG team was after the Eastwind Device, CSAT forced Akhanteros to order the AAF to obliterate TF Aegis, hoping to catch Miller and his team with them. Their lifeline to call for help was destroyed by the CTRG team, to buy time to get at the eastwind device. In so doing they ensured the eventual total annihilation of the TF Aegis survivors.

The FIA rebels were victims of the great power proxy war. Their past connections from previous black-ops before the civil war ended were cruelly pulled to support CTRG in objectives that weren't related to their liberation. Then, when it was clear their existence would only help speed up the AAF destruction and accelerate when the Eastwind Device left the island, they got the rebel commanders killed in a friendly fire incident.

The American troops in the NATO counter-attack were victims of the great power proxy war. In order to get more time to get at the Eastwind Device, CTRG passed along faulty intel that got dozens of them killed in an assault against an AAF strongpoint. In the non-canon route, the entire division form the first casualties of World War Three.

Colonel Akhanteros and the AAF were victims of the great power proxy war no matter what. Forced to attack TF Aegis and invite the unholy wrath of a superpower alliance in return, it ends with their complete destruction and formal surrender. In the non-canon route, they are as good as defeated before CSAT utterly crushes the NATO attack, but it devastates the island in the process. In the canon route, they've been left to hang by CSAT, which withdraws once the Eastwind Device is secure. Even without all that, Altis and Stratis has been the testing ground for an earthquake creating superweapon, used as a pawn by CSAT on the global stage.

Everyone was disposable in the name of the great power proxy war.

You, Corporal Kerry, were disposable.

#ArmA III

137 notes · View notes

nekomacheercaptain · 1 year

Text

The ghost of you

Part 2

Reader is in a relationship with Law, who has a terrible habit of shutting them out when they ask about his past. What Law doesn’t know is that the reader has eaten a devil fruit power that lets them see ghosts… making them see a particular one that rarely leaves the doctor’s side

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x gn! reader

Word count: 1,2K

Content warning: angst, mention of grief, mention of trauma, Law struggles to emote and express himself in a healthy way and ends up shutting the reader out

“Law…”

A whisper of his name was all you mustered to say after he locked the door between you. It was in moments like this you realized how thick the barriers he had put up really were. His family. His childhood. Topics you had learned were extremely vulnerable to him, immediately shutting you out at the very brief indication of you wanting to know more.

Had you been anyone else, you would have given up a long time ago. But you couldn’t.

Standing in front of the iron wall Law had created, you suddenly felt a cold breeze touch your shoulder, a low, blue hue radiating off the walls in the hallway. The reason you couldn’t give up.

You looked up to the face you had grown familiar with, being met with the same painted-on smile you wanted to hear the story of. He bore a look of comfort, yet a sting of concern, his presence carrying a sense of hope; he was always there when Law was at his lowest, trying to guide you into his heart. To no avail. Law guarded his heart like a mouse amongst hungry snakes; a lost cause where even the slightest move could mean death.

Of course Law had no idea about your ability. It felt like an invasion of privacy to watch the silent man linger around Law, that small look of concern never leaving him. It pained you to not be able to speak with the souls not yet ready to leave this earth. Blue light haunted you wherever you went, but his was the brightest and clearest, all other souls almost transparent while he was translucent. The edges of his large feather coat vanished in what seemed like the smoke of incense; soft, clear lines moving swiftly in the air until they were gone, proving he was not of this world anymore.

Infiltrating the most precious and vulnerable parts of your boyfriend’s past, though accidentally, meant he deserved to know the truth. But telling someone that their loved ones are watching can either lead to acceptance, or even bigger grief. But Law deserved to know he was being watched over.

“I-Law, I need to tell you something,” you felt a knot grow in the back of your throat at the words, forcing yourself to confess. You kept looking at the ghost towering over you, his eyes widening as you spoke. He understood what you were going to do.

No response. You gulped before raising your voice again.

“There is someone-” you were stopped by the coldness on your shoulder sharpening before spreading over your entire body, causing you to let out a small shriek. The blue hue now lit up the roof and upper half of the walls. What- he fell?

Your shriek and mention of ‘someone’ was enough to make Law to unlock the door, exhausted eyes accompanied by dark bags beneath meeting your gaze, and you felt your heart drop at the sight. He looked awful. And the worried face you sent the ghost on the ground didn’t escape his attention, but he decided to ignore it.

“Where?”

“Huh?”

“You said that someone was here,” he sighed before pointing to both directions of the hallway of the submarine, “so where are they?”.

Suddenly words wouldn’t form on your tongue or lips, only attempts at starting a sentence coming out as small sounds. If Law was unimpressed with you already, he was tired of you now, pulling the door towards him again to lock you out once more.

“No wait! I- there is someone here,” you started preparing yourself for the look of pure exhaustion he was going to give you, “you, uhm, it’s just that you can’t see him”.

He narrowed his eyes at you, before shutting them in annoyance while pinching the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh, “y/n-ya, leave me alone”.

You were about to lose him. And the next words leaving your mouth might have been the only thing being able to make Law look at you like you committed an atrocity against him.

“There is someone here and he just fell to the floor,” you looked down at the ghost who was fixing his coat as he sat up, “he does that a lot”.

“…what?” Law whispered.

His eyes and knitted brows softened, falling into a look of disbelief. He was willing to listen, and your heart started beating faster.

“I… I have an ability too”

No response - he expected you to expand on your sudden drop of information.

“I can see the dead,” you wanted to facepalm at how nonchalant and idiotic you sounded, but Law still listened. You had never been a liar, so why should he suddenly think otherwise?

“I can’t talk with them, though, but I can see them and they see me,” you continued as his eyes fell to where you had looked earlier. Unknowingly meeting the eyes of the spirit, who was frozen at the glance. Law’s breath grew quicker, remembering your words.

“Who is it?” his eyes lingered at the spot, but some part of him wanted you to say you were only messing with him. That this entire conversation was a joke to make him talk to you.

“Who?”

“You said someone fell,” and suddenly his dark eyes met yours, while holding an unfamiliar form of desperation on the normally calm and stoic man, “who is it?”.

Did he want to know? Would he really dare to have a small chance of hearing a certain someone’s name be brought up, after all those years of honoring it?

“I- uhm, they can’t talk to me,” his shoulders fell, knowing he hoped for too much. But was not knowing better than being sure what spirit was roaming this earth, following his crew?

“But I’m sure you meant a lot to him, he’s with you constantly!”

Law’s face grew despaired at the words you uttered, your goal of comforting him completely ruined. The ghost was following him.

“What does he…” Law gulped before finishing his sentence, feeling his stomach churn and chest tighten at the sudden situation he was in. Could it really be?

“What he looks like?” you whispered as well, seeing him struggle to digest the situation. He nodded while turning his head down again to the same spot on the ground, and the spirit looked at you, a smile growing on his face. And it looked so damn familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint from where.

“He’s really tall, a lot taller than you,” you started your description, noticing how Law’s chest rose with an unstable rhythm, his breathing growing audible to you even several feet away, “and he wears mime-like makeup”.

Law had to press his lips together in a tight line to keep them from trembling as you continued, his memory flashing images of his savior from 13 years ago.

“He’s also wearing a huge black coat made of feathers, and a red hood with hearts at the end”

The last addition may have been unnecessary based on how Law reacted when you started, but he needed this confirmation. And the spirit did as well; his eyes widening in surprise at Law’s reaction. Law fell to his knees, the spirit failing to catch him; and when Law felt the sting of coldness run through his body, his heart skipped a beat.

“…Cora?”

This is my first attempt at anything angsty... will be continued!

Tags: @benkeibear @wurm-food @unsuretater-simp @owlight @zoros-sheath @icy-spicy @nekassvariigs

If you want to join my taglist, you can find it here!

#trafalgar law #law #trafalgar law x reader #donquixote rosinante #corazon #my work #angst #x reader

458 notes · View notes

ifishouldvanish · 6 months

Text

Some Olrox Analysis & Headcanons

Have you seen this man? Now you have! 🥰

I have a lot of thoughts about Olrox Castlevania Nocturne and I'm dumping them here.

DISCLAIMER: We know so little about Olrox's past and I am but a humble stan looking at an expressionist painting and projecting my own deranged nonsense onto it. I'm fully prepared for 90% of this to get jossed in season 2, but for now I'm just letting the worms in my brain wiggle and send me beautiful visions of what could be 🥹

1. Olrox Was a Commoner and Does Not Respect Hierarchies

I've seen people point to his manner of speech and dress as evidence that he must come from a privileged background, but I think he displays too much contempt for the wealthy/nobility to have been one himself. I think these things are just symbols of power he has learned to use to his advantage.

Of course, there's everyone's favorite quote: "I prefer my blood blue." But he also demonstrates virtually no respect for authority or symbols/institutions of power in general:

He refuses the escort sent by the marquis when he arrives in France and insists on staying at the inn because he likes to "keep his ear to the ground". He would rather be around 'the people' than accept anything from the wealthy.

When Drolta is reminiscing about her glory days as a priestess, there's really not any nostalgia or sentimentality when he interrupts and says "and now those temples are half-buried in dust."

For as good as he is at presenting himself as a Gentleman of Status, he cannot bring himself to even pretend to enjoy himself at Erzsebet's lil debutante ball at the chateau.

When Erzsebet insists she is a goddess, his response is "Of course you are, sweetie 🙂"

His whole speech to Mizrak in the morning-after scene is basically a deconstruction of what power means, and how it is only a perceived vs tangible thing, a temporary position vs an immutable one:

"There are petty demon princelings you can haggle with and cheat. There are demon charlatans whose faces you can laugh in, spit in. There are demons who once were gods... And those who still are."

Foucault? In MY anime adaptation of a vampire video game?? It's more likely than u think 🤔

(continued under the cut bc this got long as hell)

2. Olrox was an Adult when Cortés Arrived

(I don't have a relevant screenshot for this point, so here's Olrox being pretty for no reason)

I've seen it float around some places that if we adhere to historical timelines to a 'T', it would make most sense for him to have been a child, but I'm of the opinion that it's more useful to take what the text itself gives us and fill the gaps with bits and pieces of the actual history where it's convenient. At the end of the day, this is a work of fiction/fantasy. So what does the text tell us?

He lived a long time as human and vampire

As of 1783, he'd been a vampire for approximately 250 years

Now, if we want to take this 250 figure literally, that would put the year of his turning at 1533. But I think we can give ourselves +/-15 years leeway because 250 is just the kind of rounded, even number one would use in natural speech in place of "267" or some shit like that. It's just how believable dialogue is written. So what lies in this +/-15 year window? The invasion by the Spanish, 1519-1521.

Now, he tells Mizrak: "Long ago, when I was still human, I watched men wade ashore from ships..."

I think this is another case of how important dialogue is. Because if he was a boy at the time, this line would likely have been written as "Long ago, when I was just a boy..." or something like "One of my earliest memories is of..." instead. "Still human" implies not only was he a human, but that he had been human for quite some time already. That the events he's describing fall in the stretch of time leading up to "still human" no longer being true.

tl;dr: the Spanish arrival and him becoming a vampire happened within a few years of each other, and if turned vampires stop aging, then he would have had to have been an adult at the time.

3. Olrox Became A Vampire Willingly

I assume that vampirism is something that was introduced to the Mexica by the Spanish in the same way it was introduced to Haiti by the French, in Annette's case.

However, rather than vampires creating spawn left and right, the persistent lore (in the show at least) is that to be turned is to be accepted into the sort of elite in-group of vampire society. (Carmilla questioning why Lisa was never turned, the Count never turning slaves, etc). Vampires feed on humans, they don't view them as potential spawn to have in thrall or whatever.

The Spanish weren't going around giving natives The Bite, because vampirism is power. So what I think, is that Olrox recognized that power, and decided to take it for himself. Rather than being the passive 'recipient' of the 'gift' of vampirism, he pried it from some Spanish vampire's cold, undead hands. (i.e., he drank their blood)

Do I have any proof of this? No. It's just what the worms in my brain are telling me 🤷 But!!

Do I think it would be a sexy little inversion of the way Erzsebet drank a god's blood to obtain her power? Yes.

Do I think it would be thematically very appropriate for a morally grey character who seems to have a very... Interesting relationship with power (individual power vs institutional powers, the subverting of power, the weaponization of symbols of power, etc)?? Oh absolutely fuck yes!!1!

[sickos.jpg]

4. Olrox Was a Priest, But Not Like That.

Priesthood in the Mexica empire was largely dominated by the nobility, whose children would be sent to the calmecec to learn how to read and write, speak the noble dialect, perform rituals, etc. But if the circumstances were right, the children of commoners could also get in!

Olrox says he's never been much of a believer, but he's highly intelligent and incredibly good at reading people. Even if he was never a man of faith, the priesthood was still a powerful institution where one could climb the ranks and earn influence over the nobility. No doubt someone as sharp and charismatic as Olrox would be able to take advantage of the opportunity to get a good education and maybe try to undermine the system from within/play a bit of political games while he was at it.

Also... Olrox's weapon of choice is the dagger. Obviously a dagger is an appropriate weapon for a character who's kind of rogue-ish, but also consider: Aztec warriors used a lot of weapons in combat: clubs, spears, arrows, axes—but an obsidian dagger? That's something that would have been used by a priest during rituals.

5. Olrox is a Bitch™ Who Knows Just What to Say to Get Under People's Skin

A common myth is that the Mexica welcomed Cortés at first because they thought he was Quetzalcoatl. But this is a misreading of the way Mexica social conventions/the noble dialect worked, which was kinda ~passive aggressive in a way, such that the more loftily and overly politely you spoke with someone, the more you were actually telling them to go eat shit and die. I think Olrox's dialogue demonstrates this beautifully in the scene where he meets Erzsebet:

"Taker of Souls, Vampire Lioness, She Who Mauls, The Messiah of--" / "Yes, charmed to meet you 😒"

"Her magnificence has heard much about you." / "Flattered. For a god to have heard of me. 🥱"

"I am a goddess!" / "...Of course 🙂"

His words are receptive, respectful, docile, even... but his tone and delivery are completely the opposite. Compare this with the way he speaks with Richter and (in later interactions) Mizrak—which is more informal, open, confrontational. He's more direct with them because he actually respects them.

As far as reading and getting under people's skin with pinpoint precision, I present the following interactions:

When he catches the marquis' severed head in the catacombs, he reads him (and potentially also Drolta) like a book: "This one? He was just an opportunist, following the messiah because she's powerful. But there are those who love her [looks to Drolta]. So I'm told."

When Drolta gives him a verbal slap on the wrist for feeding on the wealthy, he says "mY Ap0LoGiEs, I didn't realize how invested you are in keeping the mortals happy." - To which Drolta goes on to grumble about how their alliance with some of the mortals disgusts her.

When Erzsebet is waxing poetic about how everyone will see her beauty and worship her, he has the balls to—without missing a beat—say "PaRd0n mEe, but you mean to do this through an alliance with a man who will never worship you? 🫢" right to her fcuuckin face mgod I love him so much (this is the point where she whips out the big guns and yells "I am a goddess!!" while threateningly flashing her orb of darkness btw. Like she did NOT like that)

6. Olrox Has an 'Eye for an Eye' View of Justice

A prevalent theme in Aztec religion is the idea that like... ain't nothin' in this world for free. Sacrifices to the gods weren't symbolic gestures of devotion, but an act of paying the gods back for providing humanity with the means to survive.

The idea that everything has a price pervades the dialogue he has with Mizrak in the morning-after scene:

"What was the cost? Who pays it? Just him? Or all of you? Will you? Which demon will claim his price when all this is done?"

And it's also present in the very first scene where we are introduced to Olrox:

"You see, your mama took someone from me I loved, just as much as you loved her. So, she had to die."

What's interesting about this scene is also how... calm he is the whole time—before the fight, after the fight. Yes, he's motivated by the murder of the man he loved, but he brings zero of that passion to this confrontation. It's just an execution, something inevitable that must be done.

That he's fine with confronting a terrified Richter immediately afterwards to explain what just happened (and is completely unapologetic about it) is also telling. It suggests that Olrox views this kind of thing as just 'the way of the world'—a hard truth that Richter will be better off for having learned sooner rather than later.

I think this also helps explain why, years later, Olrox seems to treat Richter with a little more.... Familiarity than we might consider appropriate. He approaches Richter in the catacombs like he's just an old acquaintance, as though Richter should have no reason to be terrified of him. When Drolta mentions the incident later, he seems kind of lightly amused by it. Then, when he drops off the book, he's visibly/audibly frustrated that Richter starts gearing up for a fight. To Olrox, the whole "killed your mom" thing is water under the bridge, nothing personal.

7. Olrox is a Vampire of Prominence in The New World

Obviously, he has to be kind of a big deal to give a Belmont a run for their money. But let's go deeper into the IMPLICATIONS!!

"In 250 years, do you know how many vampire hunters have promised to slice me in two?"

"Her magnificence has heard much about you."

"You will be her guide into America."

He's enough of a big deal that countless hunters have promised to kill him. Enough of a big deal that Erzsebet has not only heard of him, but sees him as a valuable ally who knows enough about America to guide her as she builds her empire across it.

Olrox wasn't just a powerful vampire who got entangled with the politics of colonial Massachusetts and happened to cross paths with a Belmont. He's presumably had a hand in matters across the continent. Erzsebet refers to the colonists as "American upstarts" but for her, this is a conflict between humans vs vampires. The American colonists aren't allies or even rivals to her—because they're not vampires. They're just more pesky humans to be dealt with. (Also??? 'Protestant Vampires' as a concept is just hilarious to me, I'm so sorry)

So.

What the worms in my brain are telling me is—And this is Big!! This is a Steaming Hot Take!!!

(...seriously, tin foil hat tier headcanon incoming)

Olrox has established a network of indigenous vampires who are resisting the colonial threat. He's been turning them (or at least select individuals who are into it), and thereby redistributing the power he took from the Spanish colonizers to wield against the British colonizers.

(Look I have 0.01% faith in this actually being canon or anything. I just think it would be cool as fuck.)

Anyway.

Thanks for coming 2 my Ted talk or whatever. 😘

#Olrox #castlevania #castlevania nocturne

100 notes · View notes

readingsquotes · 4 months

Text

"Despite a global propaganda machine working overtime to tell us that targeting hospitals is not targeting hospitals and killing civilians is not killing civilians, awareness of Israel’s crimes is spreading like wildfire across the globe. This is due in no small part to the tenacity of the Palestinian armed resistance, which has managed to defy containment by Israel’s 40-mile long ‘iron wall’ and continues to resist an Israeli invasion on the ground. At the same time, Palestinian artists, writers, journalists, and academics have worked tirelessly to dismantle zionist colonization of the global- particularly Western- imaginary, with story, with song, with music, and with art. This resistance in all its forms is having ripple effects. Since October 7, people have continued to flood the streets in every nation with chants of ‘In our thousands, in our millions, we are all Palestinians.’ Josephine Guilbeau, a former member of the US military, said on Monday at a vigil for Bushnell that ‘I don’t think this is going to be the last of our military members resisting. I feel like there are many, many Aarons out there. Who will speak for them?’ Israel’s lies have long lacked legitimacy among the peoples of the Global South, and particularly the Middle East. But today Taylor Swift fans show up to protests holding signs declaring ‘Swifties for Palestine‘ and videos of lawyers proclaiming the Israeli occupation ‘existentially illegal‘ before the International Court of Justice go viral on Twitter. Palestinian journalists reporting from Gaza have bigger online followings than the US president, and buildings in the West are emblazoned with their images and quotes. In a statement responding to Bushnell’s protest the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP) stated “(Bushnell’s act) indicates that the status of the Palestinian cause, especially in American circles, is becoming more deeply entrenched in the global conscience, and reveals the truth of the zionist entity as a cheap colonial tool in the hands of savage imperialism.” Israel’s legitimacy is crumbling, and it is taking the US empire with it. This is not to suggest that Israel is pulling the strings- rather, it shows how far the US is prepared to go before it will risk its hegemony in the region. The refusal of all but a handful of states to join the US-led coalition ‘Operation Prosperity Guardian’ to defeat Yemen in the Red Sea (notable among absentees was Saudi Arabia, which has since joined the BRICS group of nations alongside China, Russia and Iran) was telling. Increasingly, the imperialism of the Western media is being exposed, and voices from the Global South locating these lies within much longer histories of Western colonial violence are being heard in new ways, by a new generation. In a talk he gave on October 21st, 2023, historian Ilan Pappé stated: ‘Before October I wrote an article saying this is the beginning of the end of Zionism…after last week in fact I’m even more convinced. As happened in apartheid South Africa, this is a very dangerous period. The regime fights for its life….historically I have no doubt that this is what we are experiencing, we are experiencing cruelty and brutality because a certain regime is losing it, not because it’s winning, but because it’s losing.’ Israel’s attacks on Iran and Lebanon, attempting to lure the US into a broader regional war, are another sign of that desperation. "

In our thousands, in our millions: On Aaron Bushnell’s final act

What Aaron Bushnell did was an act of fierce, principled love in a situation of extreme desperation. It unflinchingly declared that even in the heart of the empire the lies of Zionism no longer hold.

by Britt Munro March 1, 2024

#palestine #free palestine #isreal #gaza #apartheid #genocide #colonization #us politics #aaron bushnell

67 notes · View notes

mara-xx217 · 1 year

Note

Oohhhhh dear lord listen listen I will worship the very ground you walk on if you write something yandere and/or dubcon with Demogorgon

Totally ok if no tho ilysm❤️

Sweet Jesus I FINALLY have an excuse to use the idea my partner has been pestering me to use since I first wrote Monsters’ Favourite! It’s gonna be spicy sooo…

Warnings: Noncon, Hunting, Alien Biology, Freaky Alien Genitals, Deep Throating, Oral, Knotting

Running into an abandoned house was among the worst decisions that you could have made during this chase. You got turned around in your panic and ended up tripping over a raised floorboard, falling face first into a corner that was filled with junk.

FUCK FUCK FUCK-!!!

There was nowhere left to run. You shot to your feet but it was already too late. The Demogorgon had you boxed in. Your heartbeat screamed in your ears as you struggled to breathe. It was already at your back. You could feel its hot breath on your neck and your shoulders.

Why did it have to be you?! You didn't even do anything to piss it off! The Demogorgon absolutely demolished your friends, tearing them limb from limb in front your very eyes before it set itself upon you. Your entire body trembled as you braced for the inevitable. It was going to be painful and messy... You closed your eyes and waited for those petal shaped jaws to wrap around your head-

"UGH-!"

A long, slimy tongue flicked against your ear. You instantly cringed away, raising your shoulders as you cried out in surprise. You couldn't escape from the invasive tongue- there was nowhere for you to go now... What was it doing?! Taste testing you before it devoured you?! It growled behind you, low and bassy and something that vibrated the organs in your chest and something behind your eyes. Shit. Shit, shit, shit- SHIT! You held your breath and prepared for the worst, but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for what was to come.

It's thick, curved claws sliced into your arms but instead of ripping a strip of flesh off of you, the Demogorgon yanked you backwards so hard that you fell flat on your back. Before the shock of such a sudden motion could even set in your stomach dropped.

The center of the Demogorgon's flower-like head had buried itself in the valley of your crotch. You were left stunned, unable to react as the monster sniffed that area with the vigor of a dog that knew no boundaries and no manners. As you came to your senses, you felt the curl of the Demogorgon's face flaps take hold of the fabric of your jeans. And your underwear-!

"N-No! S-Stop! Stop it! I SAID FUCKING STOP!"

You punched it in the ribs and in the gut but it didn't react in the slightest. The Demogorgon had placed a tight grip onto your legs, preventing you from kicking or scrambling away as it tore a massive hole in the crotch of both your pants and your underwear. Panic turned into hysterics as your voice raised in pitch and loudness.

"W-WHAT THE FU- UGH?!"

A long, thick, wet stripe was licked along the length of your sex. What the fuuuu-?! Is this really happening right now?! You vainly scratched and pulled at the boney fingers that held you down. A flash of white hot embarrassment and disgust pooled in your gut and settled between your thighs. Your hips arched involuntarily into the Demogorgon's repetitive tongue lashings as a strangled moan escaped from the back of your throat. Your eyes squeezed shut as you struggled to regain some of your senses but it was no use.

It felt fucking good.

Its tongue seemed to have a mind of its own. It was like it knew every little trick to get you to squirm and gasp. It rolled against you, squirming and writhing and applying pressure in juuust the right places to have your mouth hanging agape and your guard lowered. The feeling of that thick tongue teasingly dipping into your entrance had your back arching and you throwing your head back in ecstasy. You had pretty much given up the fight to free yourself and instead clutched onto the Demogorgon's long fingers as your body began to shake. Being as distracted as you were, it was more than a little surprising to feel something long, thick and hot suddenly slip onto your face and start squirming around like crazy. Your eyes snapped open and your stomach dropped and your core began to ache.

Oh GOD that's a BIG fucking dick-!!

It was purplish grey in colour and had a slick yet textured feeling all along its length. You couldn't see its head but you could feel it touching your jawline, worming its way around your face with something that felt similar in shape and function to the Demogorgon's actually head. The entire organ was prehensile, able to move with the same amount of accuracy and precision that its tongue had.

It won't- You seriously aren't going to put that thing in your mouth, are you?!

....are you?

The struggle you put up was halfhearted. It wasn't like you wanted to get this thing off but at the same time you didn't really have a lot of options to work with at the moment. You didn't open your mouth but you also didn't try that hard to keep that freakishly dexterous dick from prying your lips apart and slithering into your only partially closed mouth.

It did not taste good yet you couldn't quite place the reason why. It had a musky, sweaty almost earthy-but-not-quite taste that had you salivating and gagging before it had even slipped all the way into your mouth. You had to screw your eyes shut and focus solely on breathing as it's cock slid all the way to the back of your throat in one fluid thrust. But the Demogorgon wasn't moving its hips at all, no, its dick somehow just moved all on its own like it was a separate entity or something!

It was nearly impossible to breathe at all. As the Demogorgon's member crammed itself down your throat its tongue continued to assault you in between your legs. Oooohhh God- You don't know why you bothered, but you tried to push its hips back. As if that would help right now. You just needed a little bit of room so you could breathe! The Demogorgon didn't relent and you started to feel lightheaded and panicked from the lack of air your lungs were receiving.

Are you seriously going to die from getting throat fucked?

Cumming had you seeing stars and unintentionally sucking on the Demogorgon's cock. A strangled gargling noise sounded from your throat. It felt like you were drowning on your own saliva and the monster's precum that had gathered in your throat. Your hips bucked against your will and your legs were kicking wildly as you really couldn't fucking breathe anymore!

Somehow it felt like everything was getting tighter and tighter in your mouth. Your tongue was flat against the back of your teeth and you could feel the monstrous cock pressing against muscles of your throat. You managed to knee the Demogorgon in the side of the head but it didn't react. You punched it in the side, dug your fingers into its ribs and still the creature didn't react to you in the slightest. You're actually going to die. You're going to die from sucking dick and receiving oral from a literally fucking monster.

Your jaw was stretched painfully wide, until you were sure something had popped and shifted in a way it was never supposed to. You were shocked when you felt something thick and hot streaming down your gullet. It filled your stomach enough that you felt physically bloated. Did- Did it just fucking cum?! Trying to breathe at all was a mistake. Something filled your sinuses and it shot out of your nose with startling force. All the while, the Demogorgon was still tongue fucking you with the same vigor and determination as when it first began.

No. No No- No you're fucking done! You tried to pull away but- You couldn't? You couldn't pull away at all! It was like it was... was stuck inside of you!? Oh GOD-!

You would have to wait for the swelling to go down... Whenever that would be... The Demogorgon certainly wasn't in any rush though. It had you exactly where it wanted you and it's not like you had a chance to get away, knotting or not.

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine

#dead by daylight #dbd #demogorgon #demogorgon x reader #ask response #tw non con #tw knotting #I'm not to blame for this one folks lol

170 notes · View notes

tomorrowusa · 3 months

Text

« Donald Trump is someone you should think carefully about hitching your financial fortunes to. The guy is a gifted carnival barker, no doubt. But when it comes to serious business, he is a bad bet. Many of his ventures, from vodka and steaks to casinos and “university” degrees, have flopped like dying fish. Declaring corporate bankruptcy seems to be one of his favorite hobbies. And even when he wriggles away from failure largely unscathed, the other parties involved aren’t always so fortunate. Where money is involved, anyone still foolish enough to crawl into bed with him should be prepared for the experience to end in tears.

[ ... ]

Republicans have fallen in line behind a guy who has zero loyalty to the party, who cares only how it can serve him and who would rather strip it for parts than invest a nickel in its general well-being. »

— Michelle Cottle at the New York Times.

Republicans had the chance to get rid of Donald Trump at the second impeachment in early 2021. But they showed the same sort of wisdom as those Russian troops who dug trenches and camped out on the grounds of the Chernobyl nuclear reactor early in Putin's invasion of Ukraine. Now the GOP is saturated with debilitating Trump radiation.

Republicans know better but are too cowardly to do anything about their situation. They care too much about their short term personal political careers to be concerned about the long term prospects for the US.

A sweeping GOP defeat this year would push them into a state of recriminatory chaos and possibly lead to them going the way of the Whigs,

#donald trump #trump the con man #trump's business failures #trump's narcissism #grifting the gop #republican party #republican shortsightedness #michelle cottle #election 2024 #vote blue no matter who

35 notes · View notes

vitaminseetarot · 8 months

Text

PAC: How Can Nature Heal You? 🍃💎🐾

Hi everyone, I'm officially back from my long and crazy trip to the outdoors! If there's one thing I've learned from the trip, it's that yellowjacket stings are 10x itchier than mosquito bites!

And learned how to stay grounded.

Since the start of October, things have felt like a whirlwind, but knowing that I (eventually) get to come back and post some more feels strangely grounding. Right now, especially as winter approaches, it's important to find ways of keeping ourselves grounded. I don't know the exact astrology, or if it's just from eclipse season, but things feel topsy-turvy at this point in time.

So to make up for some lost time, I have decided to prepare three different PACs for you as we approach the full eclipse moon and end of the month. Here is my first of the three. I'll have something very different prepared for next week as well… perhaps a game or two? Stay tuned!

☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦

Try to find some moments out in nature, Autumn is calling. Take some time to head outside, even for just a few minutes, and find a natural focal point. When I went into the city to work, I'd find a rare bird who'd perch by a parking lot light just to say hello. Even rain puddles in asphalt may have something to say. Feel which way the wind is blowing. It's much easier to ground with natural focal points, and with camping they're everywhere, but surprises await you anywhere you are.

Nature can heal us all in different ways. While camping by the pond, I decided to create three piles to see how nature is able to help you when times get stressful. I consulted the sea, earth, and sky for these cards to find out new ways for you to refresh and recharge while outside. Please choose any one of the three pictures below for your reading: Origins, Reconnect, or Friends.

Pile 1:

Origins: Remember Your Roots; 46. Facing Your Fears, Service, Page of Swords, Tower, Nine of Cups

Nature heals you with its pleasing aromas. In the autumn breeze, the smell of fallen leaves can lift you away from the chaos surrounding you. Smell the crackling bonfire and listen to its ancient stories that have been carried through time. Let the old stories sustain you when the world feels like it's shaking.

The scents of nature have an immediate effect on you. Smell the hot cider from fresh tart apples, or the memories from the scarf your relative or ancestor left behind. Smell the dark October rain and the many chilly nights preceding the storm. Where does it take you? Do you let your lungs fill with the world's organic potpourri? Do you allow yourself the space to roam through the woods to find what you've never experienced before? Or give yourself the chance to reset your body through mindful breath as your worrisome thoughts are replaced with cool, misty serenity?

Take some time to name each thing you smell, perhaps in your journal. The more we are able to name what we smell or taste, the more we can establish a relationship with it, whether through hate or through love, brine or breeze. Welcome more fresh air into your life at this time. Breathe deeply in the smells of the changing seasons and infuse your affirmations with them, knowing that your intention will be carried away with the turbulent winds.

The lionfish is dangerous to many ecosystems through its invasiveness. Yet people have learned how to prepare lionfish as a meal. So now there are holidays dedicated to hunting these fish to reduce their effect on coral reefs. It says to you: "Look for ways to strengthen your connection to the Universe and others. Stay peaceful and calm in the knowing of who you are."

A necessity brought a community together for an important goal. You too have a place where your actions and desires are aligned with the universe; don't discount your capabilities just because things look too tough to tackle. When situations in your life seem out of control and overwhelming, take a step outside and connect to the smells of the woods, or an essential oil blend to safely diffuse in your room. I'm picking up on clove and cinnamon in particular but whatever blend works right for you.

Pile 2:

Reconnect: Secrets lurk in the captive shadows deep in the woods; 24. Love Where You Are, Bliss, Seven of Pentacles, Five of Swords, Six of Swords

Nature heals you with its deep underground connections. It lies dormant within layer upon layer of mineral, silicate, and pulsing soil. You can dig and dig for days because you've seen the glittering amethyst geode hiding beneath the surface of volcanic debris. You're adorned with the roots of a single glowing mushroom that splits in a thousand directions at the strike of lightning.

It seems as though there is no end to the digging, even when a dead end scrapes against your shovel. It may also feel like each direction you take on is limitless, stretching the roots as far as they can go. The desire to know and resolve tugs and pulls like a sprout emerging from seed. You're here to learn the mysteries of life, carve the revelation upon stone, and somehow hold them firmly in your hands. A pumpkin may not hold all the answers to our lives, it can make for a enjoyable pie with ice cream. And sometimes simple and pleasant things like that are all that's necessary in the time you have.

The earth calls you when you are in a fuss, when you can't see eye to eye with another. When things get tense, go for a walk. Imagine your roots traveling beneath the earth as a fish rides the deep currents. Remember there is always more going on outside the troubles of the everyday. All it may take is a morning in the garden, sifting through the dirt, and planting delicate seeds to clear your mind enough to make the next moves in your day.

Clams love the earth as well. They find a comfortable place on the ocean floor, slowly filtering sand and grit into incredible works of beauty. Each pearl forged is the result of a lifetime's worth of sustained effort. It says: "Use your sensitivity to know when to act. Connect your heart with your head when determining what you would like."

Sometimes, we can solve our problems by nagging over the details, but in other times, we must sit it out and let things unfold as they intend to. Sometimes it's best to settle matters rationally, but in other times emotional wisdom is required. Stay in touch with your roots in the present and move one muddy step after the other. Whatever the issue unfolding, let the earth heal you in the now.

Pile 3:

Friends: The most unlikely friendships can form; 16. Inner Desires, Family, Fool, Five of Wands, Tower

Nature heals you with its menagerie of connections with the feral world. A day where you learn about a new species is a jackpot; you bask in abundance through admiring the vast animal kingdom. There is magic to be found in the growth and decay of a beast. Joy emerges from its shells, which grows into a love that spreads its wings and flies west into eternal peace and infinite renewal.

In each paw print, you can see evolutionary fragments of your own. Hearing the birds call in liquid notes, you venture into the thicket in hopes of encountering a part of yourself once forgotten. Is it easier to relate to animal kind than it is to people? Even when their display is for tricks or camouflage, they will not misjudge or criticize against you for who you are. At the same time, each animal desires its own space in the wild in which it can't be disturbed. It can be difficult to leave behind a difficult situation at home to find anyone who will relate with you deep within the shadowy woods. But you are being called by the chipmunks and squirrels to carry your acorns to the next level, beyond the stress, and give yourself the chance to plant them in a more nurturing, caring land to thrive.

You are being asked to, as the birds and cattle do, migrate into a whole new feeding ground. You may be a fish that has grown too big for the pond and now must plunge into the waterfall, a snake ready to shed coiled skin, or a butterfly emerging from its cocoon into new heights. Are you in a transitional phase, like a job or school change, perhaps even a move? Wherever you end up in next, the resources and guidance you need will await you at the bottom of the pool. The place your heart seeks to go the most is where you'll find your unique calling for your next adventure.

This mollusc seems humble up front but carries a powerful and influential role; they are the creators of the cowrie shell. It has been seen to represent abundance, love, and connection to the ocean's splendors through the shells they leave behind. Many people around the world have used these shells as currency. It says: "Set your intentions. You are entering a phase of plenty or have a sudden windfall. Goals are within your grasp."

Transitions can always feel unsteady, but you have many helpful animal guides by your side. Even your pet can sense that change is in the air and wants to be there for you during moments of doubt and strife. And look out for the occasional ladybug, hare, or black cat as you map out your goals to prosperity and healthy social networks. The animal world trusts you to make the right decisions with its welfare in mind.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

64 notes · View notes