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#admittedly very mean image
samglyph · 1 month
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Listen to that
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optimist-pine · 2 months
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Bodyguard
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive
Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone
Era: Season 1, the Quarry
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Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...
The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.
Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.
He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.
"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.
"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.
You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.
He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.
"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.
He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.
"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.
He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."
"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.
---
Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."
He simply grunts in response.
Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.
When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.
He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.
You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."
"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.
"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."
You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.
"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.
As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.
You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.
"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.
The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.
"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.
He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.
When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.
You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.
You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.
"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"
You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.
"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.
Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.
"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.
You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.
You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."
You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.
A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.
You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.
"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."
And you grin.
---
Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.
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tgcg · 8 months
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ms paint. you know her. u used her age 8 to make loads of rainbow ovals all over the canvas and then scramble it with selection tool. now u will know her true powers with my handyrandy tips under the readmore. some will be pretty basic and others are very special.
this post has 8 cool trix to learn for you. enjoy and i may do another in the future if i remember/learn more stuff
some of it might be common knowledge. but its got some deep cuts. all tips have gifs to show process easily.
🙂 enjoy and i hope this encourages you to fuck around in mspaint more
soundtrack for this post (loop it while you learn for advanced learning experience)
TIP 1) the right click trick
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left and right mouse click correspond to col1 and col2 respectively, which u can see in the top bar. this applies to all brushes and the fill tool like above. when using shapes col2 will be the fill colour (if you have solid fill selected). right clicking with shape maker will reverse the colours use on the shape.
TIP 2) right click eraser
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this one is extremely helpful for lineart or add shading. the eraser always uses col2. so your eraser can technically be any colour. but here's where you get powers: right clicking with eraser will only erase onto col1, with col2.
TIP 3) transparent selection change a guy destination
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the beloved transparent selection tool works based on what is selected as col2. so long as you have the correct colour as col2 you can make any image transparent and put it on top of anything else. and yes this works with photo bg as you can see.
TIP 4) the gradience
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this one is a little more complex. you want to start off with any canvas size, and make as many diagonal coloured bands as you want. (protip: holding down shift makes a perfectly diagonal line with line tool)
then you need to resize the canvas to a width of 1px (make sure you resize by pixels, and do not maintain aspect ratio). then resize again back to its original width (or a different width i cant stop you). you will have your lovely gradience.
TIP 5) superimposter
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so. you got a cool gradient and wanna put a guy on it. heres what i do:
i open a 2nd mspaint with same canvas size and draw whatever i want on there. i then pick a completely unrelated colour to my entire piece, and set that as the bg. you could use white, pink, geen, whatever you want as long as it doesnt appear somewhere else in ur drawing. copy the guy.
go back to your gradient tab. ensure that col2 is set as that bg colour you picked (lilac for me). have "transparent selection" enabled. paste your guy in. cue fanfare
TIP 6) advanced superimposter
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the great thing about this method is u can put multiple gradients in multiple areas of the image. this is where it gets all japanese printmaking type of shit. ukiyo-esque
all you need to do is make another canvas with a new gradient, ensure col2 is set as the colour you want to replace, then paste your original piece onto the new gradient. now my guy has a soft fade. you can do this as much as you want. (you could even make a canvas with a texture or photo and paste your drawing onto there)
TIP 7) "sketch layer"
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so as you now know, col2 is what is removed when you click "transparent selection". which means you can also remove any instance of a colour from ur drawing. which means you can have a unique colour for sketch layer and remove it from the drawing later. i admittedly dont do this but it is a great trick to have.
now combine this with lowering your dpi for smoother lines. may seem obvious but it helps. its like a free stabiliser whenever u want.
TIP 8) rainbow art
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now this is where you can get dizzee rascal "bonkers". check out my small and shitty rainbow trick. you can select anything and hold down shift, then drag with left mouse, to turn that selection into its own brush. i even did it with a guy. and you can of course do this with a photo as well.
🙂well that it for now. hope you liked it thanks for reading now back to your regularly scheduled tgcg programming
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anthurak · 6 months
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Something I’ve been thinking about when listening to ‘Crooked’ is how Ozzie seems to really relate to Fizz with lines like ‘I think you’re messy but I’m messy too’ and singing about his own ‘crooked heart’ and how he finds Fizz’s imperfections beautiful.
And I think this could get really interesting if Asmodeus and the rest of the Sins are fallen angels just like Lucifer. I mean imagine what Ozzie’s sense of self-image is like if he was an angel who left or was expelled from Heaven and took on this new form in Hell?
Like we’ve always wondered why the Sins look the way they do, particularly in contrast to the demons they seem to rule over. Asmodeus rules over the succubi and incubi yet is this multi-headed fire-rooster, Beelzebub rules over the hellhounds yet is some mashup of a fox/canine and a bee, and now Mammon rules over the shark-demons yet is some weird spider/pine-tree thing.
What if the reason they all look like this is the RESULT of them being Fallen Angels? Specifically, the result of their expulsion from Heaven? What if this is the whole reason for them being ‘embodiments of sin’ in the first place? What if it was all originally intended as a PUNISHIMENT by Heaven for whatever transgressions they may have committed? Something meant to ‘curse’ them when they fell.
In which case, I think it’s all too easy to imagine why Ozzie empathizes, relates and connects so much with Fizzerolli and his struggles. Because Fizz is going through a struggle likely all too similar to one that Ozzie may have gone through, what ALL of the Sins likely went through after their fall. Expelled from their home, having their bodies massively changed and told it was BAD. And I think Crooked shows how Ozzie coped with it: By embracing what he had become and finding the beauty in it, something that he now uses to help Fizzerolli, showing that there is no shame in all their crooked, messy imperfections, and that there is even beauty in them.
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And I imagine that ALL of the Sins did more or less the same: They embraced and OWNED this ‘curse’ Heaven sought to ‘punish’ them with. Embraced these ‘sins’ they are supposed to embody and made them their own. It’s why Ozzie and Bee are able to express this very positive interpretation of Lust and Gluttony respectively. As a way of making a new life for themselves and also probably a big ‘fuck-you’ to Heaven.
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Now that’s not to say that ALL of the Sins were able to do this in a positive manner, Mammon being a clear example. I imagine that as we are introduced to the rest of the Sins, we’re going to see more of a range of positive and negative ways they’ve chosen to express the ‘sin’ they embody. Like even Asmodeus has been shown to have had his hang-ups on Lust and Love being exclusive, leading to him keeping his true relationship with Fizzerolli secret.
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Though it’s clear over the last couple episodes that Ozzie isn’t worried about that anymore.
And I think that in particular is REALLY interesting, because it implies that the Sins aren’t actually bound to a particular way of indulging. Rather, the way they express their ‘sin’ is not by compulsion but by CHOICE. Which I think puts all of the Sins’ actions in a pretty interesting light.
Like it means that Mammon being this petty, skeevy, manipulative asshole isn’t some grand, nebulous ‘Embodiment of Greed’ thing, but rather simply a Mammon thing. The product of his own personal issues and hang-ups. Which also weirdly enough implies that there’s hope for Mammon. The possibility that he doesn’t HAVE to be this way. Admittedly it would almost certainly take a (pardon the pun) HELLUVA family intervention to have a hope of making that happen, but you never know. It would certainly be in keeping with the themes of the show.
All in all, I’m finding more and more the possible backgrounds of the Seven Sins to be VERY compelling. Not just for ‘The Lore’ reasons, but because it further develops the Sins as characters. It takes these monstrously powerful and ancient beings and shows them to be far more grounded and, for lack of a better word, human than we might give them credit for.
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awellposhmagazine · 20 days
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a 10pm thought re: oral between friends
thinking about fucking around in the studio with the guys & making an offhand comment re: bringing back the blowjob lyrics & george hitting u back with can't do that cos healy's not getting them anymore. & matty just tells u guys to fuck off as usual but it sticks with u and u start scheming. 
it comes up again a week later on the floor of his living room, with you stretched out on his concrete floor flipping through one of his wanky coffee table books. he’s settled on the couch just above you, watching you laze about at his feet like a housecat in the sun. 
“y’ look nice down there.”
he means it innocently enough, but it’s the perfect opportunity to push him around a little.
“yeah? giving you some inspo for that new blowie song?”
he rolls his eyes hard, reaching out a socked foot to nudge you teasingly on the shoulder.“yeah haha very funny matty in his incel era.”
and maybe its the warmth of the sun making you delirious, or just the overwhelming domesticity of the moment, but the words leave your mouth before you can even think to stop them.
“'m being serious. i’d get you off, if you wanted.”
matty almost chokes to death on his own spit.
“don’t fuck me about.”
you might as well have socked him in the jaw for the look on his face. his mouth has fallen slack, just slightly, and his expression reads as vaguely pained. 
the silence between you carries on for a little longer, and you can see him disappearing further and further into his own head. its in moments like these that you realise perhaps he’s more of a sap than you’d thought. public image matty necks tequila and takes his coffee black, but yours would prefer a malbec and a cappuccino with two and a half sugars. public image matty gets off with groupies and regularly toes the line of public indecency, but yours is looking at you like he might keel over and die at the prospect of a blowjob. you’d been half joking really, but the intensity of his reaction has shelved any plans you'd been harboring to tease.
“‘i’m not,” you shake your head resolutely, suddenly developing a stomach ache at the consequences of your own actions. “i’d never.” despite attempting to maintain a flirty tone, you have to swallow down a lump in your throat the size of the texas.
“kiss me first?”
“huh?” your reply comes out as more of a breath than coherent speech.
“if we’re gonna do this, 'wanna kiss you first. will you do that for me?”
you're not sure what he's playing at, really. you're more than happy to oblige, of course; you'd dreamt of kissing matty loads of times. admittedly never as precursor to casual oral, but you'd take what you could get. you'll chalk it up to being another facet of his sentimental nature. that, or he just needs a minute to work himself up before you get him undressed.
either way, you huff and scramble up to meet his request only to be stopped by a gentle hand on your cheek. his hands are so big, so warm, and you can’t help but nuzzle further into his touch. you're playing all the right cards and he and he still doesn’t kiss you, just lets his eyes linger on your embarrassed face and presses a bruising thumb to your bottom lip. 
“fuck, matty - please.” he’s just teasing you now, he has to be. it's making you itchy.
“please what, darlin’?”
“thought you wanted a kiss. you’re being cruel.”
“don’t like me mean?”
“dirty, maybe. not mean.”
“jesus christ. alright, ok.”
he surges forward then, eyes squeezing shut in a uniquely sexy breed of anguish. if he weren't already holding you steady, the force of the kiss might’ve knocked you on your ass. his lips smear against yours messily; movements punctuated with gentle, bubbly gasps. it's hot and messy and charged with desperation - which reminds you abruptly of the task at hand.
he grunts when you draw back, but his disappointment is short-lived. 
“can i suck you off now?”
matty thinks he might actually die.
when you slide down and start messing with the zipper of his jeans, hes certain.
from the minute you get your mouth on him, matty’s floundering like he doesn't quite know where to put his hands; where he’s allowed to. he’s writhing around against the couch cushions, hands balled into tight fists atop his thighs. to your great satisfaction, he can't seem to look at you for longer than about five seconds at a time. every attempt only results in a littany of curses and his eyes flying to the ceiling instead. you figure he's trying to hold off on his orgasm, but you're greedy; you want him to look at you.
you intend it as a bit of a power move when you reach for his hand and bury it into your hair, but it backfires completely when he gives it a tug and you moan all slutty around the length of him. you’d been doing so well keeping your sounds to a minimum, but the dull ache sends a shock of pleasure up your spine. 
something about the action must’ve done it for matty too, because not a second later he’s spilling down your throat with garbled incoherence and choked groans. ‘fuck, ’m coming, fuck -”
you ride it out with your mouth flush to the hilt of him, eyes closed with concentration in committing the sounds of his climax to memory.
finally, his eyes drop down and burn right through you as pull off him and place a chaste kiss to his inner thigh.
“up,” he chokes out, bordering on frantic; “up - come here.”
you comply happily, dopey with pride at having caused the fucked out look on his face. he manhandles you easily despite his exhaustion, slotting you comfortably atop his thighs and squeezing your waist.
he looks lovely like this; lips bitten raw and sweat beading at his hairline. you want to eat him whole. 
it’s different when you kiss him for a second time, after the dust of his manic lust has settled. its quaint almost; clumsy and a bit unsure. like this is perhaps more intimate than any moment preceding it. every second movement of his lips is punctuated with weak, breathless thank yous.  his lips are still parted slightly when you pull back, as though you’ve cut him off early from his ministrations. your heart flutters wildly in your chest. 
“fuck, stop looking at me like that. you’re mental.”
he sounds pained again. you muffle laughter and continue toying with his fingers where your hands are gently intertwined.  “like what?”
“all sweet and that like you didn’t just have my cock down your throat.” 
“i think that was very sweet of me.’
“fuckin’ more than. gonna write a whole blowjob album now, honest.”
“can i do it again? later, i mean?”
for the third time today, matty's soul nearly vacates his body and ascends to the heavens.
"'f i ever turn you down for that, please smack me 'round the mouth."
you giggle breathlessly, and matty gives you disbelieving sort of smile and lets his forehead fall slack against your shoulder. it's only now in the afterglow of your determination to get him off that you settle into the discomfort of your own arousal. he's gone all warm and sleepy beneath you, tracing circles on the bare skin of your knee, and you suddenly feel like you might burst into tears. "sorry, uh- i gotta pee."
a flicker of panic flashes across matty's face, and you can tell hes back in that worried, overthinking place in his brain. that is, until he takes in the heaving of your chest and the way you can't quite keep your legs still.
"oh, lovely girl. need me to take care of you now too, 's that it?"
arguably nobody had ever needed anything more. you’ve soaked through since he’d first kissed you; itchy and sweating through your clothes. 
“please, matty.”
the desperation in your voice seems to knock the energy back into him tenfold. it’s forceful but never rough when he maneuvers you onto the couch beside him and drops to the floor. "i've got you, darlin'", he admonishes, hiking your skirt up past your thighs.
“tell me if i do anything you don’t like, yeah?”
you find it hard to imagine he’d be capable. you nod anyways. “yeah, yes - okay.”
promoted to his knees, matty edges between your legs and drapes an arm across your hips. the implication hits you like a train; you won’t be able to hold still. 
fuck.
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aethon-recs · 5 months
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Tomarrymort Dead Dove Recs, Part 1 🕊️
Welcome to Part 1 of Dead Dove-themed Tomarrymort recs. I like fluff and soft and light-hearted fic as much as the next reader, but at the end of the day, Tomarrymort is a dark ship, and there are some brilliantly talented writers here creating incredibly dark & twisted absolute mindfucks of works that I want to pay tribute to. 
Please note there can be found potentially triggering and disturbing content in the rec list below, so this time I will be placing all 30 of these recs below the cut. Keep in mind don’t like; don’t read, so feel free to scroll on by if non-con/dub-con is not a theme you would like to explore. 
This list was made in collaboration with @danpuff-ao3’s Dead Dove Diaries Series. Check it out for other HP dead dove recs!
*
Tomarrymort Non-Con/Dub-Con Recs
A Single Love by Vera_DragonMuse (E, 23k, complete)
If Tom had been raised by Harry instead, would he have grown up to be Lord Voldemort?
A Special Day by @vdoshu (E, 3k, complete)
“I think a fresh start is important. I’d like one, and I think this can be it.” “It’s a bit late for a fresh start for me, don’t you think?” he retorts snidely.
Aconite; Thistle by @kushimanii (E, 32k, complete)
Voldemort decides to keep Harry alive and impregnate him to bear children that he can raise into loyal Death Eaters.
Aftertaste by @hiredhorse (E, 4k, complete)
Harry noticed the handsome stranger before the game began.
At the expense of the world by @itsevanffs (E, 24k, WIP)
"He had a lover, you know," Jenkins says to Remus once Harry's behind a wall and out of sight again. "A boy, and a gorgeous one at that. Nobody really knew where he came from, and Tom didn't seem to favour him either, at first, but by the end, he was besotted." Jenkins pauses. "Might have been a girl," he says. "We don't have any drawings, and all the texts are warnings that the God-Emperor is a jealous man - do not seek his puer, or you will be slain where you stand."
Cloudy by @dividawrites (E, 5k, complete)
Trapped alone in a prison on an island, there are many things Tom forgets. But he never forgets Harry.
Dark Light by CrazyJanaCat (E, 3k, complete)
Nineteen years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort, the Wizarding World is at peace, and for once, everything seems right. But what no one knows is that their hero has a dark secret...
Eulogy by @meles-merrivale (E, 6k, complete)
You run through the things you have to do for the day. It is, admittedly, a very short list. Wake up. Be clean. Be ready. An empty life, some might call it. You don’t. It is the life He has given you, and so it is what you deserve.
For He is the Sun and I am His Shadow by @aglassroseneverfades (E, 13k, complete)
The date is September 1st, 1996. Lord Voldemort is about to get everything he's ever wanted.
Frigid by @mrviran (E, 3k, complete)
In which one of Voldemort's horcruxes is broken, and needs to be fixed.
golden boy by @exarite (E, 3k, complete)
They thought Harry Potter was dead. Months after the battle at Hogwarts, the last of the Resistance finally gets captured. Voldemort shows them just how very much alive Harry Potter is.
Guaranteed Safety by Assapanick (E, 13k, complete)
The only problem would be convincing the Dark Lord to impregnate him, but Harry doesn’t plan on asking.
Harry Potter and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Rut by @neurowriter14 (E, 6k, complete)
Harry goes into the forest to confront Voldemort and his death, and all the while his rut waits in the wings, drawing Voldemort's curiosity.
Heartbeat by @phantomato (E, 24k, complete)
Harry, dumped into the past, communes with dangerous men.
Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k, complete)
“I need an Alpha," Tom states. "Someone older. Someone already established within the Ministry with strong connections. Someone kind, a bit stupid, and rich. A Pureblood, ideally. Someone who will soften my image.” “A sweet-hearted, good-looking, oblivious moderate, you mean?” Scorpius asks. “Well, that’s Harry Potter to a T. Too bad he’s married.” This is not the problem Scorpius thinks it is.
in bad faith by @cindle-writes (E, 3k, complete)
Voldemort, despite looking thin and skeletal, is heavy enough of a weight on Harry’s chest that he’s having trouble breathing, each breath feeling like a thick, syrupy effort to draw in. “Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll take care of you,” Voldemort murmurs, hot breath ghosting over Harry’s ear.
Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k, complete)
Voldemort stole both Harry and the Philosopher’s Stone, and doomed Harry to live a half-life. That was ten years ago.
Legacy by Pengress (E, 6k, complete)
His Horcrux stared at him with wide green eyes. Voldemort could see the panic, the fear. He had accepted his place in the ritual reluctantly, but he had given the important permission for Voldemort to use his body, and while the preparation seemed to have scared his Horcrux, Voldemort would make sure he would not go back on his word.
Lingering Warmth by anon (E, 2k, complete)
In the aftermath of Harry's death, Voldemort admires Harry's corpse, and when Harry comes back to life he finds himself in a perplexing situation.
My Lord, Master, My Soul by FletchleyRose (E, 69k, complete)
During the Battle of Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort learns that Harry Potter is his unintentional Horcrux. He decides to make him his – mind, body, and soul. Harry is not on board with this plan. But when the Dark Lord starts using pleasure instead of pain to convince him, will he be able to resist?
on the other side by @philolust (E, 3k, complete)
Someone abducts Harry Potter and the Dark Lord in an effort to get them to cooperate and end the war. It goes horribly wrong.
Precious Horcrux by @loneamaryllis (E, 127k, WIP)
"Precious Horcrux..." The two possessive, cloying words, hissed low, made Harrie feel nauseous. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to keep you."
Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k, complete)
Primary Objective: Establish with certainty that Subject IS or IS NOT a living Horcrux. Captured audio sample from Subject: You can’t keep me in here forever, Voldemort! Why don’t you come in here and face me, you COWARD! I’m not scared of you! Dumbledore will find me and—
rise anew by @duplicitywrites (E, 5k, complete)
“I must thank you for this new body of mine,” Voldemort continues in an amused tone as he flexes the fingers of his new hand, examining the unnatural length of them. “It is unexpected but not… unpleasant.”
silk of midnight and dawn by @ilya-zzz (E, 3k, complete)
Harry approaches, quietly, arms raised in front of him. It doesn’t take long before pale skin transforms into soft fur as dark as the night sky. Red eyes, now green, look at Harry with such an intensity that he has to take a step back. Four-legged and as imposing as he is when standing in two, Tom Riddle has transformed into a panther.
Such a Noble Villain (part 1) / Monster Under the Bed (part 2) by Run_of_the_mill (E, 4k, complete)
Harry and Voldemort are in a classroom, and Harry is stuck to a chair. Some very weird, creepy stuff happens next because Voldemort is who he is.
The Tattoo by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 5k, complete)
Tom gives Harry a tattoo that creates a bond between them, giving Tom some control over his mind.
The Ties That Bind by @mosiva (E, 8k, complete)
Harry finds the locket at Grimmauld Place, but it has a curse laid on it. When Harry triggers it, he finds himself trapped with the locket version of Tom Riddle, both of them stuck within the enchantment until they can find the way out. Or so Harry thinks.
Tom Riddle and the Quest for Vulnerability by lejf (E, 16k, complete)
Auror Harry Potter has eighteen-year-old Tom Riddle bent over the table barely a day after he becomes his ward.
Violent Delights by @katsitting (E, 5k, complete)
“The Golden Boy is no more…” Voldemort whispered, voice high and reedy, amused. Harry was shoved against something hard and unyielding. It scratched along his back, chafing the skin. Harry didn’t so much as flinch, refusing to make a sound when more jeers sounded in the clearing, the words cutting through the rush of blood flooding Harry’s ears—
*
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cloverthebarbearian · 4 months
Text
Do You Think Of Me...?
Rolan x AFAB/OC, NSFW, 6,034 Words
A fic inspired by an incredible piece of fanart by @sammakesart, the full image of which is a patreon exclusive that is well worth the money and has been living in my head rent free for weeks. For WEEKS. (Ref Sheet for OC)
"I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…" Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?" Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…" Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins. "What… what do you mean?"
It was a lively evening at the Elfsong. Swarms of friends deep in drink and song flooded the tables of the tavern, the Hero of Baldur's Gate among them. Busy catching up with Cal and Lia, Clover took a healthy chug of their pint amidst the laughter around them.
"And THEN he tried to tell us 'an unseen servant would be more useful'," Lia continued her ranting, "Like, sure Rolan. Good luck gettin' an invisible jester ta' help with your customers."
Apparently, Rolan had been particularly difficult to work with this past week. Between drinks, Lia was busy retelling all of his criticisms and complaints over his siblings earnest attempts to help him run Sorcerous Sundries. Now that he was the Master of Ramazith's Tower, he had to learn all of said Tower's secrets - on top of learning to run an already successful business. Admittedly an overwhelming task as is, and likely even more so for a perfectionist like Rolan.
Cal followed Lia's complaints with his own, "I get that it's been a lot as of late. But you'd think the man would be grateful to have the extra hands about! And it's not like the patrons are complaining. Hells, some bloke even tried to ask Lia on a date after shift!"
Clover raised an eyebrow to Lia at that, who simply shrugged and sipped her own drink, "He was like, 60 years old at least. Or maybe 600. I think he was an Elf? Besides, if anything, its Rolan who needs someone to ask 'em out. Hopefully someone to help yank the stick from 'is arse." Clover snorted out a laugh in response.
"You really think that would help?" They pondered aloud, "Gods, I can't even see Rolan out on a date. Let alone finding someone attractive. That man only seems to care for Tomes and the Weave," Clover chuckled to themselves, "I mean hey, Mystra's single now, maybe I could set them up..."
Cal and Lia shot each other knowing glances, poorly hidden smiles curling at the corner of their lips. This was a look that Clover recognized immediately. That token Sibling Telepathy. Clover dropped their pint on the bar with a thud and planted their palms on the counter, shooting them their own knowing glance.
"Okay," they pointed between the two of them, "What's all this?"
The siblings eyes darted at Clover and then each other, trying to hide their bubbling laughter.
"Us?" Lia said sarcastically, hands raising up in feigned innocence, "Nothin'! Nothin', honest."
"Y-yeah," Cal said with a lilt in his voice, "You're totally right that Rolan doesn't even find anyone attractive, even. The mans practically a… a Eunuch!"
Lia groaned, "Cal, ew."
Clover rolled their eyes, "You two clearly know something. Some weird secret that I guess I'm not privy to," They folded their arms across their chest, "Very rude to withhold information from the person who's saved your lives on probably, Seven different occasions at this point?"
"Oh c'mon Clove, you can't hold that against us forever," Cal groaned.
"I actually think I can," Clover retorted, "Until you've saved my life seven times, at least." They picked their drink back up and finished the final gulp, tapping their mug against the counter with a wink in request for the barmaid to top them off once more before turning back to Cal.
"Alright Bud, I know you can't keep a secret. So, what the Hells are you two keeping from me?" Cal suddenly turned a bit pale, eyes wide.
"Clover, y-you know I don't do well under pressure…"
Clover leaned in closer to him, their barbarian eyes narrowing, a bite in their voice, "Exactly."
Lia, now tiptoeing between drunk and utterly sloshed, ran her finger around the rim of her cup, giggling to herself, "Clover… you're gonna make'm piss 'imself."
Cal groaned, "Listen, I'll tell you. But it's just. It's weird! It's weeeeeird, Clove."
The dwarf grinned to themselves in victory, "Alright, then. Spill." Lia stared at Cal with a sly grin.
"Yeah Cal. Tell 'em Rolan's little secret~" Cal groaned once more, shoving his face into his palms.
"Okaaay," Cal relented, "Gods above, I… Auuugh, so. How do I even…" he was struggling to find his words, "I mean. We live in the tower now, yeah? And its Big and all, but we still like to have rooms near each other. I don't know, it feels safe… comfortable, after everything. To know we're close by. But it also means, sometimes, things aren't always… private…"
Clover slowly took sips from their pint, eyes still locked on Cal's darting gaze. Biting his lip, knuckles white in his lap. Clover's eyebrows raised, "Okay? And?"
Cal lowered his head, "Pleeease don't make me say it…"
Lia threw her head back and nearly yelled out in exasperation, "GOOOODS Cal you're such a BABY sometimes. Listen, Clover… Clover. We know," she shoots Clover an intense stare, "We knoooow things. About Rolan. Things no siblin's should know," her hand reached out to grab their arm, "An' Rolan? Reeeeeeaaally misses you…" a knowing smile crept up on her face. Clover's cheeks felt warm, but they weren't even sure why. The gears in their head not fully turning as the alcohol worked through their veins.
"What… what do you mean?"
Lia's smile turned even cheekier as she threw her head back - fake, exaggerated moans falling from her lips, "Ohhh~ Fuuuck, Clover- Yes Clover, please! Take me jus' like that," her speech slurred as she rocked her hips in frantic thrusts. Cal lowered his head onto the bar's tabletop as Clover's eyes went wide and their face went fully flush.
"Oh, my Gods…" they muttered to themselves, lifting their pint back to their lips. Lia's mocking cries turned to raucous laughter.
"I'm jus' saying. If anyone could get that man to relax…" she lifted her cup in Clover's direction before taking another hearty swig.
Suddenly, the gears in Clover's skull decided to start working. Frantically.
"Well, then," they announced, hopping off of their bar stool, "maybe I should go get the job done."
Cal and Lia once again exchanged wide eyed stares with each other, "What, like… like, right now?" Lia asked, as if shocked into a sudden sobriety. Clover chugged their nearly full pint in a handful of large, thirsty gulps. The final drops of liquid courage they needed before slamming the glass back onto the counter.
"Yeah, I guess like, Right Now. Y'all've had a hell of a week, right? If I can help…" Clover smiled to themselves, "It's kind of what I do," they gave Cal a cocky grin, "I will count this as saving your life, again. Mark me up to eight."
"Gods dammit," Cal let his head fall back onto the bar. Lia began laughing, clasping her gut as she bellowed.
"He should still be closing up at the Sundries!" Lia started hollering after Clover as they began to leave the Elfsong, "We'll stay here tonight, so take your time!"
Clover heard Cal stammer out, "Lia, that's disgusting!" Before walking into the cool night air.
Sorcerous Sundries was but a brief walk away. And Clover couldn't help all but skipping towards their unknowing wizard, his dirty secret at the forefront of their mind...
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The open doors of Sorcerous Sundries allowed a pleasant breeze to flow through the lobby. Rolan took in a breath of fresh air, busying himself balancing the account records of sales for the evening. A small crew of mage hands floated around him, carrying stacks of sales records, tomes to be organized, sorting through everything from profits to taxes to local investments.
He'd typically give himself the time to pat his own back at his creative means of multitasking. If only his mind weren't so overcome with the newfound pressures being Ramazith's Master have brought him. Yes, the Sundries was a success trade business. Yes, the tower held treasures and secrets and power aplenty. But Gods, had Lorroakan ever opened a checkbook in his life? The debts this man owed, the back taxes and unkept promises Rolan was now forced to follow up on. Though grateful to not have a cane to his jaw, the stress of picking up his former Master's mess was taking its toll.
The faint footsteps of a guest entering the building could be heard across the tiled floors.
"Ah, terribly sorry but we are closed for the evening- Oh," he glanced up from his busy work to see the Hero of Baldur's Gate approaching the Sundries counter, "it's You," he mumbled, the voice of customer hospitality lost in his tone, "What do you want?" He questioned, adjusting the pair of reading glasses sat atop the point of his nose, glancing back down at his records.
Clover hesitated a moment, "Ouch, not the warm welcome I was anticipating. Is this how you treat all your customers?"
"I don't anticipate you're here to purchase something," Rolan remarked, focus fully back on his paperwork. The mage hands organizing the storefront flitted around Clover's head as they continued to approach the counter. Rolan just barely took his eyes from his work to peak up at the dwarf in front of him. He paused, "Did you need something?"
Clover slid their hands across the countertop, "Oh, what? I can't just… happen to be in the neighborhood, dropping by to say hello to an old friend?"
Rolan rolled his eyes back to his work, "We're friends now, is it? And here I thought you were nothing more than my siblings overpaid babysitter," Clover's head cocked to the side.
"You don't pay me."
Rolan flipped to a new page on his countertop.
"I know."
Clover rolled their eyes, strumming their fingers against the polished wood, pondering how to get to occupied wizard's attention. He was dressed so casual - his robes gone, wearing just his loose undershirt and fitted trousers. Emboldened by the alcohol still buzzing through their bloodstream, and their newfound knowledge of Rolan's secret desires, they decided to walk themselves behind the Sundries counter.
"This space is for employees only," Rolan commented, without looking up from his records. Clover paid him no mind, walking up to him and lifting themselves onto the counter directly in front of the Wizard, who responded by sighing. Exhausted and irritated, he hung his head, laying his palms down on the counter before him, "Would you kindly be an utter inconvenience somewhere else? I'm trying to work here," he gestured to his documents, but couldn't seem to look the barbarian in the eyes.
"Oh, Rolan, I'm hurt," Clover responded, "Is that really what you think of me? I'm just an, 'utter inconvenience'?"
"Right now? Yes!" Frustrated, he finally found himself looking at Clover's face. But rather than maintaining his building rage, his breath caught in his throat.
They were much closer to him than he initially realized. He could see their mismatched eyes so clearly. Clear enough to see - no, smell - the magic enchanted in the blue glass eye to his left. He could also smell the heavy alcohol on their breath. Though their dwarven fortitude kept them composed, the sour wheat smell of beer was unmistakable. He found it mixed beautifully with their natural sent of musk, the sugar plum soaps he knew they preferred, and that faintest whiff of copper, from all the blood that often soaks their body after battle. Caught in the sheer aura of them, he nearly didn't register as Clover's hands gently gripped at his forearms resting at their sides.
"I'm sorry," they lied, "I must be a real bother right now. I'm sure you're thinking of a million different ways to get me out of your hair," they made a point of dragging their right hand up his neck and tangling their fingers into the hair on his nape. Without even thinking, Rolan's hands moved from the countertop to hesitantly reach for their thighs. Fingers hovering, as if touching them in earnest would cause them to vanish.
"Don't you just wish there were some way you could… shut me up?" Clover's heavy gaze flitted between his eyes and his lips. Rolan swallowed a lump building in his throat, and (unsuccessfully) tried to will away the growing pressure in his pants.
"C-Clover, what are you-"
"Tell me something Rolan," they interrupted, using their free hand to remove the glasses from his face. Their noses brushed against each other as warm breath mixed in the air between them.
"Do you ever think of me when you cum?"
Rolan's entire body shuddered, from head to toe to the tip of his tail. His fingers clenched around their thighs as he pulled their bodies flush.
"I…" He choked, holding his breath for a second that felt like an eternity, before letting himself go.
"Yes," was all he managed to say in response. Spoken in a heavy breath - a whisper, a moan, a prayer. They were already so close, neither one knew who moved first. But as soon as the word left his throat, their lips crashed together in a frenzy.
There was no patience, it was not gentle. Clover fueled by liquid courage and Rolan fueled by sheer desire. Tongues tangled as shared saliva slowly dripped from the corners of their mouths. They kissed each other as much as they breathed each other in, only pulling apart once Rolan bit Clover's bottom lip. Tugging at it gently, just barely breaking skin with his sharp incisors. Chests heaving as they both took a moment to collect themselves. Rolan lifted a hand in the air, eyes lidded and unfocused. With a flick of his wrist, Clover could hear the doors to the Sundries closing and locking shut, as the lights inside dimmed to the gentle flicker of that magical blue/green glow of enchanted flames.
"Well, someone sure knows how to set the mood," Clover quipped, draping their arms around Rolan's neck and leaning back in for a kiss. Which he returned, deeply, but briefly, before breaking away from them again. Clover whimpered in disappointment, trying to pull him back towards them. But Rolan's hands reached up to their arms around him, stilling their movements for a moment.
"Clover…" he whispered, his voice deep and aching, "Why are you here?"
He looked confused, almost scared, his burning yellow eyes glowing in the dim lighting, unwilling to look at them. It hurt Clover enough to not laugh in response, but they never thought Rolan capable of being so dense.
"Is it… is it not obvious?" Their fingers played with his hair. Rolan scoffed, smiling weakly.
"It just feels, surreal. It feels like I'm dreaming…" Clover lowered their head to catch his gaze.
"Well, you're not," they said softly, "but let's pretend that you are. Let's pretend this is a dream," they nudged against his nose with their own, trying to catch his lips, "You're dreaming. And I'm here," they whispered, "What do you want to do with me?"
Something stirred in Rolan's chest. Without looking at them, he captured their lips again, sliding his fingers beneath the hem of their shirt. He began to lift the cloth upwards, but stilled himself, pulling his lips away just for a moment. Clover smiled, whispering approval to continue before catching his lips again. Rolan pulled their shirt up, the hem resting on his wrists as his thumbs traced the shape of their skin, cupping their breasts as he passed over them.
Clover stilled their kiss briefly to let out a moan, and Rolan took the opportunity to remove their shirt completely before returning his kisses to their lips, down their chin, down their neck. Clover's arms wrapped tightly around him, hands holding the back of his head as his tongue traced a wet line from their neck downwards. He explored their skin, finding the shallow dips between their collar bone, kissing down lower until his tongue and hands met their puckering nipples.
"Fuck, Rolan..." Clover moaned, gripping his head by his hair and pushing his face into their chest. Rolan responded in kind with a deep, purring moan. His lips fully encompassing their nipple while his tongue traced around it. Quick, frantic flicks of his tongue followed by desperate sucking left Clover's chest bruised and swollen. When Rolan lifted his head up for a breath, he kissed Clover once more, then returned his focus to their other breast, making sure he provided both with equal pleasure.
The sounds leaving Clover's mouth were bordering on sinful. They had their legs wrapped around Rolan's body, kicking their shoes off their feet and rocking themselves into him. They could feel their own arousal pooling between their legs. Their hips bucked aggressively as Rolan took the stiff bud on their chest between his teeth, and pulled. Clover threw their head back and whined in pleasure.
Rolan smiled, his hands leaving the curve under their breasts and traveling down the soft skin of their torso. He hooked his fingers under the fold of their waistband, tracing his sharp nails across their skin towards the center of their pants. He began to deftly untie the laces of their trousers. Clover unhooked their legs from behind his back so he could pull the rest of their clothes from their body.
Rolan ran his hands along Clover's thighs as he removed one pant leg after the other. Fully exposed, Rolan took a step back to appreciate the creature in front of him.
Clover's chest was heaving, their pale neck and chest marked red from all the kisses and bites Rolan left on their skin. Their legs were spread wide open for him, the folds of their cunt dripping and twitching in anticipation. They had one hand propping themselves up on the countertop, but the other was dancing across their skin, tracing the ghost of Rolan's own fingers in his absence. They shivered, the chill of their bare skin mixed with anticipation.
"I know you're enjoying yourself," Clover mumbled, breath heavy with lust, "but if you don't come back over here and touch me, I'll-"
Rolan nearly tripped over himself returning to their embrace. He grabbed behind their ear with one hand, pulling their hips into him with the other, kissing them so deeply Clover could feel him shaking against them, before pulling away from them abruptly.
"What are you limits?" He asked in haste. Clover's response was hazy and confused.
"My… what?"
"How far are you willing to go with me? Do we need a… a… a signal? A safeword? To tell me to stop, or…" His hand tightened against their waist.
Clover smiled. Even in a situation like this - sat here completely naked, their body visibly yearning for him - he was so nervous. So mindful. They reached their hands under his chin and kissed him softly.
"We can do whatever you want," they kissed him again, a gentle laugh escaping their lips before saying, "though I wouldn't mind being thoroughly ravaged by you."
Rolan let out a sharp, sudden laugh. Or perhaps a grunt, even. Something almost animal.
"Then I hope you'll allow me to indulge myself," he responded, before quickly dropping to his knees. Hooking his arms behind Clover's thighs, he pulled them to the very edge of the counter, letting their legs drape over his shoulders. A wild look flashed across his eyes before he began planting kisses along Clover's inner thighs. Kisses, and bites, not shying away from biting hard enough to draw blood between their legs. Clover gave a sharp inhale, causing Rolan to glance up at them, an unspoken question.
Clover ran their fingers through his hair, clenching their legs a touch tighter against his back, nodding for him to continue. He purred again, a sound Clover's core was beginning to respond to in kind, before biting their soft inner thigh once more, creeping closer to their center. They smiled and shuddered, letting their head lull back, "Do all tieflings purr like that?"
Rolan licked the blood from their thigh, kissing their skin ever inwards, "Only when we're excited," he responded, before sliding his thumbs up between the folds of their cunt, spreading them open for him. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of their desire, and ran his tongue up their dripping arousal. He sucked their clit into a kiss, rolling the sensitive nub against his tongue.
Clover's hand immediately went from a fistful of Rolan's hair straight to his horn, pulling him in closer, "My Gods, Rolan - Fuck!" They nearly screamed as his mouth explored them. Thighs gripped tightly against his head, their hips rocking with a sudden urgency. Rolan could hardly control himself as he moaned, and gasped, and devoured their cunt. The nectar dripping from their swollen lips worth more to him in this moment than air to breathe.
He slid his tongue inside of them, holding the lips of their pussy open between two fingers with his left hand, and carefully massaging their clit with his thumb. Rolan could feel the inner walls of Clover's sex trying desperately to clench around him as he ate them out, and lulled his eyes up to look into theirs.
Clover was putty under his touch. Their chest was heaving, sweat building on their brow. Their cheeks were flush, their eyes were watering. Seeing the way their body responded to him made Rolan's dick twitch painfully beneath the restraints of his pants.
He slid a hand around Clover's thigh. A feeble attempt to loosen the barbarian's grip, which they thankfully understood. Rolan leaned back a moment for a breath of air before standing tall and crashing their lips together, allowing Clover to taste their own sweet musk of arousal. They had draped their arms around Rolan's neck, while the wizard frantically attempted to remove his own garments. Clover caught on to his movements and began assisting in removing his shirt as he wrestled with his own trousers. Both parties having a difficult time as they refused to let go of each other's lips in the process.
"I hope - it's not - to forward," he said between kisses, "But I - I," he grabbed Clover's face and held them in a deep, steady kiss, before pulling them away, "I think if I - If I don't have sex with you this instant, I may - I may go mad."
He took Clover's hand and brought it down to his throbbing member, though he let them take their own time in touching him.
They looked into him, a coy smile and devilish gaze behind their eyes. They gingerly took the tiefling's erection in their hand, and Rolan's knees all but buckled in response. He had to grip onto the countertop to stop himself from collapsing. Clover laughed quietly under their breath, stroking his cock with increasing fervor.
Rolan kissed them again, quickly tracing his mouth from their lips to the crook of their neck. Clover wrapped their legs around the small of his back, guiding the tip of his dick towards their desperate heat. They rocked themselves against him, sliding the length of his shaft between their slick folds. They could feel his entire body tremble against them, hearing the sweetest whimpers escape him as his face remained buried in their shoulder.
Barely audible, he tilted his head toward their ear and weakly begged them, "Clover… please…"
They traced the end of his cock back to their pulsing entrance and rolled their hips against him, allowing the tip to gain entry. They could feel Rolan's breath catch. His hands found their way to Clover's hips once more, holding them steady at the edge of the counter as he slid his entire length inside them with ease. The complex curves and ridges of his infernal features could be felt within Clover's walls.
"Rolan…" His name fell from their lips in a desperate moan as the tip of his cock reached the deepest parts of them.
Rolan stilled once fully sheathed, Clover's cunt pulsing and throbbing against him in pure anticipation. They rolled their hips ever so slightly. Rolan cursed in response, his voice shaky and low.
He began to drag himself out of their pussy once more, almost reluctant to leave them, until just his tip was teasing the entrance of their hole.
Rolan slammed his cock into them, hands fixed upon their waist so firmly his nails were threatening to break skin. He gave Clover a few long, powerful thrusts like this. Dragging himself out nearly in full before burying himself within them.
Soon enough the long, drawn out strokes were replaced with closer, more frantic thrusts. Rolan's hips barely leaving the embrace of Clover's own as he humped them like an animal in heat.
Rolan lifted himself from the shallow curve where Clover's neck met their shoulder. He pressed his forehead to theirs, grunting hard as he fucked them. Clover's hand gripped the back of his neck as they held his wanton gaze.
"How long have you wanted this?" They asked, panting, their hold on his neck tightening, "How long have you wanted to fuck me like this?"
Rolan's pace picked up, keening under his partner's commanding presence.
"Since - Since Last Light," he stuttered between his heaving breaths and desperate thrusts, "S-Since you saved - saved them. Since you s-saved us. Since you - Ah - since you freed me of - of my tormentor - and made me Master of this Tower," his movements grew sporadic and urgent as he spoke.
Clover laughed as they moaned, "Oh fuck, Rolan, that's right. You're the Master of this Tower now," They gripped him by his hair and gently yanked his head back. The whimper that escaped Rolan's lips at their touch was pitiful. Clover began running kisses up and down his neck, before tracing their tongue below his ear.
"Fuck me, Master Rolan," the lust dripping from their voice was intoxicating. Rolan's hectic and rhythmless thrusting sped up, his moans entirely debauched. Clover could feel their cunt clenching around him as they inched towards their own release.
"Yes, Clover - Fuck!" Rolan moaned and whined as he felt them on the edge, "Take your Master's cock. Take me just - just like that," Clover's grip on his hair tightened as their mouth opened against his neck.
"Rolan!" They nearly wept as they came over his thrusting cock, juices spilling out of them with every shallow plunge.
"Gods, Clover, I'm - I," he could barely finish his attempted warning before Clover caught him completely by surprise, pushing him out of them and dropping onto their knees. They gripped his cock as the shaft pulsed beneath their touch, laying the head of him against their tongue. They stroked him frantically, his member still sticky and wet with their juices.
"Fuuuuck!" Rolan's hands fell to the counter as a powerful orgasm ran through him. His legs shook as thick lengths of cum released into Clover's mouth. Strings of his spend so long they reached across their cheeks and nose. Clover smiled as they rubbed him through his release, sucking on his head to milk every last drop of him.
Once the last of the aftershocks finished running through him, Rolan dropped to the floor to join his equally exhausted partner. Their backs resting against the counter shelves. Slick with sweat, heaving chests, swollen lips, both covered in marks from each others touch.
Clover leaned their head against the wizards shoulder. Rolan placed his head atop theirs, turning and planting a kiss in their hair. Clover ran their fingers on the floor absentmindedly. Rolan took notice, and slid his own hand across the floor a touch, gently nudging his sharp claws against the dwarf's rugged, calloused hands. They responded immediately, interlacing their fingers with his own.
They turned to look up at the man who had just well and truly fucked them near senselessness. They had never seen him so disheveled. His hair was loose and curling with is sweat. He was still panting, this likely being some of the hardest physical work a magic user like him has had to do in quite some time. Still naked, Clover took the time to examine the man's infernal features. The spikes and grooves on his chest and shoulders that so starkly contrasted their own soft and squishy stomach and thighs.
They took their free hand and ran it up his chest, tracing the bumps under his skin. Rolan jumped at the unexpected touch and looked down at his partner, equally debauched. He laughed as he attempted to wipe some of his now drying spend from their face, instead opting for a quick prestidigitation. Clover smiled.
"How are you feeling?" They asked. They weren't really sure what to say, now that the deed had been done. But they were here to help him relax, after all. They should at least find out if it worked.
"How am I feeling?" Rolan responded, almost in disbelief, "That's a rather loaded question, I mean... I still feel like I must be dreaming -"
"But you're not," Clover interrupted, planting a kiss on his shoulder.
"I… yes. Okay, yes, but I'm not," he sighed, resigning to the truth of the situation, "Then I feel like… I feel like I just, um…" He cleared his throat, "I feel as though I just bed the most beautiful creature in all the realms. Gods, in my place of business, no less. I hate to see the mess we've made in proper lighting," He trailed off into his thoughts, almost embarrassed by circumstances.
Clover climbed onto his lap, straddling him in an attempt to get his full focus, "Thank you ever so much for the very literal explanation of our current situation," they expressed with a playful mocking tone, their hands running up and down his arms, "But I do in fact mean how are you feeling, emotionally. Do you feel okay?"
Rolan sat still for a moment. As if he truly needed to consider whether or not he felt okay after all of this. Clover's heart was pounding, suddenly worried if this was a bad idea. That is until Rolan reached up for their face, pulling them in for a tender kiss. When he let them pull away, he held both their hands in his own.
"Clover, I feel incredible. And I feel… confused? But the incredible aspects outweigh the confusion. And perhaps we can discuss the confusion some other time, because right now, I… I'd really like to bask in the incredible."
Clover smiled, and nodded, leaning into Rolan's chest. He wrapped his arms around them, breathing deeply of their scent, committing it to memory. As exhaustion fully took its hold on them, they melted into each other's embrace.
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The morning light crept through the stained glass dome of Sorcerous Sundries in a dance of rainbow prisms. The twinkling causing Rolan's dreary eyes to squint tight before slowly opening.
He was sat on the floor behind the Sundries front counter, still undressed, with an equally bare dwarf sleeping soundly against his chest. The memories of the night before washed over him. Clover's body flush against him, calling out his name as they came with him inside them. It all sent a renewed wave of arousal crashing through his body.
That is, until he heard a shout from the busy streets outside, and the reality of his current predicament crashed over him even harder.
"Oh Gods," he glanced around himself. Papers strewn across the floor. Various bobbles lay in disarray, likely dropped by the mage hand assistants last night once he lost concentration on the spell. Drops of his own errant spend now dry on the shelves. Stains of sweat and what other fluids he could only guess marking the floor beneath them. He palmed his face, rubbing his temple between his fingers before rousing his partner from his arms.
"Clover, get up," he started to lift himself from the floor as his companion groaned, "Get up, damn you! We fell asleep," he was whispering, as if someone outside might overhear them. Clover sat themselves upright, eyes still closed.
"Yeah… We fell asleep. People tend to do that when they're tired…" Clover mumbled.
"We fell asleep in the Sundries you idiot!" Rolan was trying to dress himself while cleaning up after last night's… experience, "We have to leave - No, you have to leave. I have to finish cleaning up before I open," his movements were frantic. Clover watched him dart around, still sat on the floor. He conjured a quick bust of himself - a modified version of mirror image, perhaps? - swearing as he attempted to fix his hair. Clover yawned, lazily picking up their own clothes and dressing themselves at a snails pace.
Still sat on the floor, Rolan found himself tripping over them as he aimlessly paced around the counters. Stacks of paperwork flew from his arms as he fell. Clover tried to reach out and break his fall, though it did little help.
"Bugger it all!" Rolan slammed a fist against the tiled floor, propping himself to his knees, "Could you PLEASE get up and either help me, or leave!" He shouted in Clover's direction.
They both froze, Rolan held his breath.
"Y'know…" Clover slowly stood up and walked over to the wizard kneeling on the floor. At this height, they were at eye level with each other, "Calling someone an idiot and demanding they leave the morning after you've fucked them silly? Not exactly the best impression one wants to make," they tried to joke, lifting a hand to his cheek. Rolan didn't comment, his gaze locked onto the floor.
Clover sighed, pulling his head to their chest as they held him. Their strong arms felt both soft and secure, the rhythm of their heartbeat providing a sense of grounding Rolan didn't even realize he so desperately needed. As Clover spoke, their voice reverberated against his cheek.
"I'm no mage, Rolan," they started, one hand gently stroking his head as they spoke, "I can't detect your thoughts, or calm your emotions with a spell. I can't compel you into a zone of truth and force you to be honest with me. But I can tell when someone is overworked, and overwhelmed," they squeezed his head tighter for a moment before releasing him and holding his face in their hands. He looked up at them, his eyes glossy with tears he refused to shed.
"You need a break, you stubborn jackass," Clover said with a smile, "There's nothing wrong with that. I think the city will survive if the Sundries is closed for a day or two. And if you're truly that worried I'm sure I could convince Gale to come visit and-"
"Absolutely not," Rolan interjected sternly, clearing his throat, "Forgive me, but that man has no idea how to speak to patrons without coming across as a pretentious, pompous, know-it-all."
"Oh, but you do?" Clover retorted with a grin. Rolan seemed shocked at first, then smiled back. Chuckling to himself, he reached up to hold Clover's hand, pulling it from his cheek and planting a deep kiss against their palm. Taking a deep breath, he stood up, still holding Clover's hand.
"I'll set up the portal upstairs to take you to the washroom of the tower. Let me finish with what I had started last night, then I'll come join you," Clover cocked an eyebrow.
"You'll come join me, eh? In the glorious, magical washroom of Ramazith's Tower?" They tried to tease him, but he simply turned to them with devious look in his eyes.
"Yes, I'll be joining you. After I finish cleaning up the mess you made," he leaned down to their ear, "Be grateful I'm not forcing you to help," he said sweetly, kissing their cheek. He raised his hand and flicked his wrist, the familiar sounds of a transportation portal wooshing to life on the floor above them, "Now, off with you. I don't need any more distractions, especially if you'd like me to get this finished quickly."
Clover smirked as they began to walk off, "Whatever you say, oh great Master Rolan," a shiver shot up his spine as they dragged out his title across their tongue. He tried to compose himself, but his tail flicked with excitement as the dwarf ascended the staircase.
"I'll be waiting."
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heleentje · 1 year
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So there's a take that crops up every so often in the Breath of the Wild fandom, and it goes something like this:
Windblight Ganon is such a piece of cake! If Revali were as talented as he claimed to be, he wouldn't have been defeated by it, so clearly he's just an arrogant blowhard.
I disagree. Because while Windblight might have been relatively easy for the player to defeat, circumstances conspired against Revali in every possible way.
Strike 1: The Blight Ganons were tailor-made to defeat the Champions
While it's not stated outright, the Blights seem to be custom-made to put their respective opponents at the worst possible disadvantage. So while Link can avoid the whirlwinds on the ground, they would be very disruptive to Revali's Gale (something he's only been able to do consistently for a short while). Arrows, too, can easily get blown off course by the wind even when using a heavy bow (so can a Rito, who is presumably lighter than a Hylian).
If, on top of that, it was raining (implied by memories #16 and #17), then Revali's favoured bomb arrows would have been useless. Not a great recipe for a fight.
Strike 2: Rito don't see well in the dark
Botw is a game that doesn't tell you a lot upfront, but you can find a wealth of information in every little corner. Case in point, in Gerudo Town there's a Rito named Frita. And she has a very interesting tidbit to share if you talk to her at night.
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[Image ID: A Rito named Frita in Gerudo Town says: "Us Rito... We haven't got the best night vision, to be honest."]
When the Calamity emerged, an unnatural darkness blanketed the land. A darkness that persists from its appearance all the way through Link and Zelda fleeing and their final stand at Fort Hateno, up until Zelda temporarily sealed the Calamity (memories #15, #16 and #17).
That’s without even mentioning the laser show Windblight Ganon puts on. Ever encountered a car with LED lights on a dark road? Now imagine how Revali felt.
Strike 3: Revali had to fly non-stop for hours to get to Medoh
After sinking some hours into playing botw, you probably get used to warping all across the map via the shrines. Going from Lurelin to Rito Village is a matter of seconds. And if the Sheikah had been able to unlock the Sheikah Slate fully in the past, that would have been a massive boon to the war effort.
Unfortunately, they didn't. Which means that, when Calamity Ganon emerged, all the Champions had to take the long road to their Divine Beasts.
Now what does that mean for Revali? We can hazard a pretty good guess, but we don't have to, because the art book tells us: Revali flew straight from Lanayru East Gate to Rito Village. It's hard to tell exactly how long that would have taken him, but I'm estimating that would be about 8-10 hours flying non-stop.
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[Image ID: A map of Hyrule showing the presumed routes the Champions took to get to their Divine Beasts. Revali's is a straight line across Hyrule.]
Which means Revali (like the other Champions) was probably already exhausted by the time he got to Medoh.
Aaaaaand that's three strikes, he's out!
But if that's not enough for you yet, here's one more thing. Admittedly, this is less solidly canon than the previous parts, but it's conjecture that, in my opinion, is backed up by the Champions' Ballad DLC.
Strike 4: Revali lacked his best weapon and may have been injured
The artbook shows us another salient tidbit. Revali could have detoured if he wanted to, but he didn't: he flew in the straightest possible line across Hyrule Field.
Hyrule Field, better known as the center of the chaos at the time.
Can we really expect a Champion, especially a Champion who's so eager to prove himself, to not stop and at least try to help? And while trying to help, what might have happened to him?
When you fight the Blights in the illusory realm, you gain a set amount of equipment, implied to be what the Champions carried with them at the time. And with Revali, something's missing.
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[Image ID: The bow inventory during the DLC fight against Windblight Ganon. It includes a Falcon Bow, Duplex Bow and Phrenic Bow.]
Where's the Great Eagle Bow?
Would Rito Champion Revali, greatest archer in known Rito history, really not be carrying his signature bow, when every other Champion carried their favoured weapon?
This, combined with his route straight across Hyrule Field, makes me suspect that he did engage the Guardians, lost his bow, and may even have gotten injured in the process.
So there you have it. Just about everything was against Revali in that fight. And while Link, and by extension the player, may have had an easy time of it, they went into it at full health and with all the advantages of the Sheikah Slate.
Meanwhile, Revali arrived at Vah Medoh after a frantic hours-long flight only to be thrown into a fight he didn't expect against an opponent tailor-made to counter his every move, while he was unable to see properly and lacked his best weapon. And he still managed to put up one hell of a fight.
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viranellee · 1 year
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do i shoot straight (or do i cheat fate?)
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synopsis: jealousy is a good look on eddie.
warnings: smut, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), dirty talk, swearing
a/n: i need him.
---
"Who the fuck is that?" Eddie questions, thinly veiled fury laced within his words, and despite having your back turned, you can probably guess they're spoken through gritted teeth.
The fact that he had practically dragged you to the kitchen, as well as his hostile tone, makes you heave out a sigh, but admittedly, seeing another guy's arm around your girlfriend's waist is an understandable cause for concern. Swallowing your fears, you nervously adjust your hair and turn around to face Eddie, ready to tell him the news that had you avoiding him these past few weeks.
"My fake boyfriend. Label said I'll have to keep him around for a while, it would be beneficial to my public image or whatever, especially with the new single coming out." You start, the darkness of the quiet kitchen hiding Eddie's expression, the only source of noise being the loud, drunken hollering and cheering of The Six behind the closed door. "It's all fake. I'm sorry you had to find out like this. I just...I just didn't know how to tell you. You know I hate this just as much as you do."
You step forward, shyly reaching out and intertwining your fingers with his. For a moment, you think he won't forgive you, that he'd drop your hands and tell you that he just can't keep up with all your famous pop singer bullshit anymore. Instead, he proves you wrong, like he always does, and pulls you forward by your intertwined hands until your foreheads touch. He sighs, anger washed away by your explanation, but tension in his shoulders still very much present.
"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Jesus, you made me go crazy. For a second there, I thought it was over when I saw you with that blonde douchebag. Don't ever do that again." Eddie murmurs and you smile slightly, shaking your head.
"Noted. I'm sorry, again." You reply and he kisses your forehead, accepting your apology.
"I want us to go public." Eddie declares after a beat of peaceful silence, looking at you right in the eyes, speaking with the hard resolution of someone who's saying something that's been on their mind for a long time. "I don't want to hide anymore. I want to write songs about you, and I want you to write songs about me, and have everybody know we wrote them for each other. I don't want to love you in secret like this anymore."
Your eyes soften at his confession and you kiss him tenderly, putting every single ounce of your love into it, hoping he'd understand that you feel the same way. He leans into it, hands grabbing your waist and pulling your body against his.
"Y'know, the entire band probably knows we're an item already. I mean, we don't exactly try to hide it around them." You joke when you break apart for air, a trail of spit connecting you and Eddie's lips.
He chuckles, pupils dilated as he gazes at it, and starts to slowly corner you against Billy and Camilla's fridge.
"They do. But how about we make things clear for that boyfriend of yours too, yeah?" He whispers and you swallow when his thumb reaches out and slowly pulls your bottom lip down. You tune out the sounds coming from the other room the longer you look at him.
"Jump, baby." Eddie commands and you immediately do so, wrapping your legs around his hips and burying your hands in his hair, while he grips your ass, fully pressing you against the fridge.
He kisses you then, previous tenderness replaced with predatory hunger, as he bites and licks his way into your mouth. You let out a helpless moan, involuntarily dragging yourself across his hard-on, the feel of it on your core making you gasp.
"You're already hard?" You question in disbelief, slightly pulling away from him, eyebrows raised so high they almost reach your hairline.
He licks his lips while you speak, looking inconvenienced at your interruption.
"Been hard like a rock since I saw you in that dress, sweetheart, you just didn't see it. Too focused on your boyfriend, probably." He teases without any actual malice, but before you get the chance to scoff and tell him to fuck off, he's already kissing his way down your neck.
You can only sit there, lost in a haze of enjoyment, as he frantically drags your dress up your thighs, continuing to pepper kisses on your collarbones and cleavage. Once your dress is finally out of the way, he doesn't waste any time and cups your cunt in one large hand, making you shiver, while he drags his thumb across the wet spot of your panties.
"Is this all for me?" He asks, knowing the answer already but wanting to enjoy the satisfaction of hearing you say it.
"It's always for you." The words roll off your tongue, an unabashed truth, and he rewards you for it by pulling off your panties - but instead of dropping them on the floor, he decides to shove them in the pocket of his jeans.
His movements are quick, but you see all of it, and hit his back with your leg as a form of protest. Eddie squeezes your hips in return, stilling you immediately, but offering no explanation, only dragging his thumb across your slick entrance, eyes intently focused on it.
"Eddie, why the hell did you do tha- oh, shit." You start just as two of his fingers glide inside of you, and his thumb starts rubbing your clit in circles.
Your back arches at the feeling of his fingers pistoning in and out, as you completely disregard what you were going to say. Eddie answers anyway.
"Want my cum to be leaking out of you after this." He tells you like it's obvious, and the idea is so erotic it makes you whimper, your warm head falling back against the cold metal of the fridge.
You take a look at Eddie, not nearly as messy as you, a perfect picture of composure and self-control, and feel as if you have to rectify it. After all, you can't be the only one moaning and panting.
You grab the collars of his jacket and lean in to whisper in his ear, just as he delivers yet another precise thrust to your G-spot and another wave of pleasure hits you.
"As much as I'm enjoying this, if you don't put your cock in me right this second, I just might have to call my boyfriend." You tempt, tracing the shell of his ear with your tongue, and he catches the bait, anger coming back with a vengeance.
Suddenly, his fingers are being pulled out and the metallic clink of his belt echoes throughout every crevice in the room. Before you know it, you feel the head of his cock against your entrance and he enters you impatiently, your mouth opening in a silent scream before he catches it in a passionate kiss.
You think he's going to start out slow like usual, savouring the feel of you around him. But it seems that he has different plans for you tonight.
You groan out his name as he instead begins to pound into you mercilessly, and all you can do is hold on for dear life.
"Yeah, baby, take my fuckin' cock, just like that. Shit, I missed this tight little pussy. Missed you." He groans in your ear, alternating between kissing your neck, shoulder and jaw, the contrast between his tender touch, filthy words and brutal pace rolling your eyes back with sheer pleasure.
His thrusts move in tandem with your moans as your body slackens in his grip, letting yourself feel every single delicious inch of him inside you. Your shaking hand moves downward in an attempt to relieve your throbbing clit, but Eddie slaps it away, replacing it with his own.
"So fuckin' pretty when you're like this, sweetheart, dumb on cock. I'm the only one that gets to have you like this, yeah?" Eddie asks, voice hoarse, rubbing your clit just the way you like it.
"Yes, fuck yes, yes, yes, yes, Eddie!" You gasp out, partly as a response and partly as a plea for him to keep fucking you silly like this.
He gently slaps your clit, a satisfied smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, as he reaches forward to suck on your earlobe, and you barely have time to yelp when his pace quickens even more. The sound of skin slapping against skin is so painfully loud in the dark kitchen it makes you briefly wonder if his bandmates in the other room have already heard you, but as if reading your thoughts, Eddie speaks again.
"Let them hear what I'm doing to you, how much you love this cock. My pretty girl." He tells you, pulling out and lightly slapping your clit with the head of his cock, a gesture so uncharacteristically possessive of him, it makes you clench around nothing.
Nodding helplessly, you move your hips around in an attempt to communicate how much you want his cock back inside, and he complies, resuming his punishing pace the moment he re-enters you. You cry out, walls gripping him like a vice, nails dragging against his clothed back. He groans at the combined sensation and kisses you so hard your teeth clank against each other.
"Eds, I'm going to-" You're cut off as his cock delivers yet another precise thrust. But you don't need to finish your sentence, if the understanding glint in his eyes is any indication. He moves you around before you have any time to process what's happening and you're suddenly being laid on the countertop - face down, ass up - and he enters you just as his hand buries itself in your hair, yanking, but not enough to hurt, as you feel your whole body being manhandled upright, your back pressed against his chest.
Your blurry eyes catch sight of the kitchen entrance, and it clicks, just as you feel your climax take hold - anyone could walk in right now and see you getting fucked like a whore by Eddie Roundtree himself, bent over the countertop.
And that's exactly what Eddie wants.
"Cum for me, baby, c'mon. Let go for me." He urges behind you, panting due to his own impending orgasm, and you do just that. As your ears start ringing and your vision turns white, you can briefly recognize his voice coaxing you through it. You lean your head against his shoulder when you feel him follow shortly after, releasing inside of you.
The kitchen is comfortingly quiet as both of you calm down from your respective orgasms. Eddie presses kisses at the back of your head, a silent apology for his slightly rough treatment, and you turn your head, kissing his cheek in return.
You're about to tell him that you love him when the kitchen door opens and your fake boyfriend Anthony (or was it Aaron?) appears at the threshold, eyes widening in shock as he takes in the sight in front of him. You avert your eyes down in embarrassment, but Eddie moves his hand towards him in a shooing gesture, a toothy smile on his face that only emerges when he knows he's being a prick and loving it.
"Do you mind? Me and my girl were having a moment."
The guy nods shakily and leaves, the look on his face so bewildered it almost makes you feel bad.
"Eddie..." You sigh and he laughs, prideful, the sound of his uninhibited laughter making butterflies flutter in your stomach. "That was so unnecessary."
"I know. I don't really care, though."
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autolenaphilia · 11 days
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Finally seeing the 1982 movie of Pink Floyd's The Wall reminded me of the recent callouts of Roger Waters for anti-semitism, made by such "credible" institutions as the German police force, Israel's Foreign ministry and the US Separtment of State.
That was enough to make me dismiss the claims out of hand. Admittedly there were some descriptions of his anti-zionist concert imagery that seemed a bit tasteless, and not the first time he has done that, some of his anti-trump images at previous tours were fairly fatphobic and homophobic. I don't think Roger Waters is an unproblematic fave.
But what really made me laugh was that a major part of the accusation was that "At his concerts, Roger Waters dresses in what is basically an SS uniform and shouts about shooting and gassing various minorities, that means he is probably a neo-nazi."
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This is literally tumblr callout post material in its blatant disregard of the distinction between fact and fiction. Like sure, Roger Waters has played a fascist on stage many times, here is a picture of it from all the way back from 1980, but taking that as a sincere expression of fascist beliefs is nonsensical.
And it's made by multiple government departments. Of course they are probably not being honestly this stupid, it's a dishonest argument meant to persuade the truly ignorant.
Like when I imagine the person who would honestly believe this type of argument, i would feel the need to explain some very basic concepts to them, like I would to a five-year old. Like how musicians sometimes sing songs that aren't about their personal experiences and opinions, sometimes they sing songs that are stories about fictional characters, people who aren't real, sometimes these fictional people are bad people, like fascists, and sometimes musicians perform songs in a way where they act like the character, but it's all pretend.
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i'd love to hear about manmaru metadede !!! i heard it's really Gay but no one ever details it. not a lot of it is translated too, as far as i know, but i really like it.. any excuse to talk about something you like is good too
NO YEA not a lot is translated and the manga itself is already more niche compared to like, mopupupu so its not too well known. translation efforts have really started picking up the past year though (shoutout to @/kirby-manga-translated they do great work). if it needed to be restated for new followers since i havent tl'd in a while, i know a decent amount of japanese so i read them on my own :)c
shoutout to my guy @/rosakikoza as well for giving me his scans hehe. the majority of images below are his or taken from his scans. the rest are mine
*deep breath* the tangent. im gonna need to put this under a cut dont mind me 😍😍😍 did i say 3 paragraphs? i meant 20. like 20 paragraphs
meta knight is absolutely pathetic and incredibly down bad for dedede this manga. its adorable. multiple people ive talked to or seen have come to the conclusion it seems like he has a huge crush on him. a quick brief for those who dont know but this mangas meta is admittedly Veryyyyy different from how you'd expect a meta knight to be. uncharacteristically friendly and cheerful and. pathetic is really the best word for it. hes kinda a loser. incredibly protective of dedede, he switches between two modes of fussing over him quite a bit and semi-often going into incredible rage bloodlust modes over protecting him or his image (youll see a good amount of jp fanwork depict this version of him as a yandere for that reason)
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theres also been more than one occasion where meta knight tries to commit seppuku upon accidently doing something he sees as unforgivable towards his king (its in the chapter i just screenshotted above too, another time he broke dededes clock and freaked out about it). i-. dont consider this a cute ship thing for the record im just stating it to emphasize the extent of metas obsession towards dedede this manga. the mans got Problems...
apart from that, also quite differing from most interpretations of both of them, both of them seem to genuinely really like spending time around each other all the time. it comes off as casually domestic and is very cute...
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regardless of my attempts to brief it, i dont feel like im explaining this very well so lemme just show you a frankly ridiculous amount of reasons for why i keep feeling like this mangaka ships metadede
-fake kiss: self explanatory
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-fake proposal: also self explanatory
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mk: Will you marry me!?
ddd: Yes!
context for this scene is that theyre rehearsing for a play, but actually its later revealed that meta knight is playing the princess while dedede is playing the male protag so im not exactly sure it makes sense that hes the one proposing here. my speculation is that to make the proposal seem legit for the gag they Had to use meta LMAO but thats just my take
also to be noted, right after kirby hears the proposal he immediately runs off and tries to tell everyone the news before ddd+mk stop him and explain that its fake. hes not thrown off or weirded out at the idea that they could be getting married in the slightest. kirby says gay rights Real i love him sm
-this one is from what i call the memory loss chapter:
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dedede loses his memories from getting hit in the head too hard. the gang figures out that beating dedede up or otherwise causing him injury causes him to regain some of them back though, to which kirby attempts to harm him with increasingly violent means, much to meta knights horror. mk spends the entire chapter trying to protect dedede from him, and it doesnt work obviously, but after a particularly hard hit dedede remembers everyone again... except for meta knight. to which meta knight gets upset about and lets kirby lay into dedede for real. you see where people get the yandere personality from now right. i dont recall this trait coming out too often but ill talk more about it later
-the whole chapter thats a cinderella retelling with dedede and meta knight. also also self explanatory COME ON LOOK AT THIS ONE. LOOK AT IT.
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mk: Y…You're…
ddd: Wow, he's so beautiful!! It's like I'm dreaming…!
-theres the mangaka chapter which is a more recent one
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the gang makes manga for dedede. meta knight's manga is about how cool, brave, and heroic dedede is. mysteriously enough however the only thing hes good at is drawing dededes face and nothing else. the implications of this one drive me absolutely insane. is it supposed to imply that meta knight stares at his face all day?? admires his appearance??? he looks at him so much he basically has his face memorized????? HUH???????? theres no heterosexual explanation for this. acting like a teenager with a crush out here got damn
=various images im sharing out of context because they r cute
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head pats. holding hands and reaching the goal together. peak.
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KNIGHT DRESSUP FOR THE KNIGHT. AHAAHGH
ddd: Hoho, pretty spiffy don'cha think?
mk: Ohh!? It suits you!!
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fellas is it gay to shout "OHH! META KNIGHT!!" with a dopey grin on your face upon being saved like a damsel in distress
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sometimes meta knight acts domestic as fuck too. his copy abilities as he states are: cook! clean!! and sleep!!!
regarding my thoughts on their dynamic in this series overall, i think theyre absolutely adorable. meta knight emits dog energy in this one. eager golden retriever towards dedede, though dedede has his sweet moments towards meta knight too. (viewing it with a shipping lens just for this post ofc) while meta is the more active crusher, some of the stuff above seems to imply that dedede has feelings in return as well :') they just get along really well too its great. theres a different chapter where they perform as a comedy duo. theyve done plays in multiple chapters. its my hc for these versions of them that they love doing performances of all kinds together and do a lot of rehearsals and writing in their free time...
and the yandere stuff i feel like i should address as well. i try not to take some aspects Too seriously because its to be expected things are over emphasized for the sake of the joke with gag mangas. but oh man the man definitely has problems. he needs therapy. i tried to be transparent in listing those aspects as well so people can make their own conclusions on it But theres one more thing id like to mention regarding that
meta knights personality has been shifting to be different from what i listed, as of the most recent volume. my beloved forgotten land arc... a first for this series in that, while the chapters still retain their gag humor and dont take themselves that seriously, its a serialized story that mostly follows along with the game plot that lasts nearly the whole volume (as opposed to other game arcs in this manga being episodic stories, using the games as their theme rather than a full on setting). with the more serious tone of the serialized story, theres a frankly startling hint of character development i never wouldve expected from a gag manga at the end of it
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kirby gets ko'd the first round of the meta knight cup so meta knight joins the meta knight cup instead. turns out when he does that the final boss of the cup is dedede. meta knight Really doesnt want to hurt dedede and so dedede promptly kicks his ass without a second thought and wins the tournament. while the crowd cheers for dedede's victory, meta and dedede have a small talk where dedede tells him he doesnt need to fuss so much about hurting him/him getting hurt. presumably this is supposed to mark the end of meta knights intense overprotectiveness because (its never been clear-cut due to the nature of the manga previously, so its a lil hard to say) dededes shown he can handle himself, or like, isnt some fragile thing. i really hope itll stick around because i think its a great addition to both of their characters. the meta-knights have also been appearing way more frequently as of very recent chapters (ones that havent been compiled into a volume yet) which seem to also hint to meta knight getting more independence to his character from dedede's loyal servant. im very excited to see where it goes :D
and like, last last disclaimer if anyone needed it; even tho i love metadede and i like to see things through ship glasses sometimes i absolutely try my best to keep my biases out of my translations. putting out accurate translations means a lot to me! this entire post is me purposely putting the ship glasses on so please dont take it as "omg metadede is canon in this manga". you know way back when i was the only active translator for this manga someone tweeted at the mangaka on twitter mentioning that there were english translations around and he replied to that person. didnt respond to the fan translation thing specifically but the fact that he could know who i am definitely kinda terrifies me. if anyone goes around saying that his manga is the metadede manga because of me and he even has the slightest sliver of a chance of seeing that i will kill yall fr LOL
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cybertron-after-dark · 2 months
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Taking inspo from your post
Could you write about the mind control machine swapping the minds of these Decepticons and Autobots:
Shockwave
Knockout
Bulkhead
Dreadwing
Ratchet
Ultra Magnus
Wheeljack
Soundwave
Optimus
Predaking
Use a random picker or a wheel to choose who gets mind swapped with who
If you wanna take it further, then add the reactions of the unaffected members on the situation and their behaviour around the affected mecha
good luck and have fun
Ratchet < - > Shockwave
Bulkhead < - > Knockout
Soundwave < - > Optimus
Dreadwing < - > Predaking
Wheeljack < - > Ultra Magnus
Dear Primus the wheel understands COMEDY
Ratchet
His depth perception is GONE and he is NOT happy. He's even LESS happy that he can't CONVEY how distinctly not happy he is nonverbally because he can't even make facial expressions anymore, so he's taken to LOUDLY bitching even more than usual. Admittedly, the extra weight to throw around and the precision-designed clawtips are very useful, and he likes being able to pop out of the ground bridge and lay down cover fire without getting mixed up in the action. It may be giving him ideas for backup weaponry in the future.
Shockwave
The lack of his typical ranged weaponry is frustrating. That anyone should be content with bladed melee weapons alone is simply illogical. He also finds himself incredibly annoyed with the subpar earth-based altmode and all the unnecessary human designed internal kibble it comes with. He does not naturally emote at all, and he will not be starting today, sudden addition of facial features be damned. Gets pretty creepy to see Ratchet's face completely devoid of his usual grumpiness in favor of a completely blank look.
Bulkhead
By the Allspark he feels so small... Speed has never been his strong suit, and grace ESPECIALLY hasn't. Sure the drill and the buzzsaw have been useful when he needs to deal damage, but they're just not the same as good old fashioned Blunt Force Trauma™️. He gets frustrated pretty quickly. However, he does take a certain malicious, schadenfreude-filled delight in messing up the good doctor's finish. He might just take Miko off-roading before they trade back 😈
Knockout
DONT LOOK AT HIM, HES UGLY!! Knockout is going to spend this ordeal researching a cure while locked in a closet... Whatever closet is big enough to fit him anyway. All his usual hideaway spots are way too small for such a big lug like Bulkhead. Which means he's stuck out in the open... Looking like a clumsy, dull, green oaf... UGHH!!!! New plan, time to lock himself in the medbay and have breakdown work his magic with a rotary buffer. New paint job, new slimming decals, he's going the whole 9 yards to make himself borderline presentable. Whether Bulkhead wants it or not.
Soundwave
Soundwave is taking this very special opportunity to do a little trolling. Under normal circumstances, he's sworn never to let his voice be heard again. However... It's not really his voice, now is it? Besides, he doesn't have any of his remix equipment OR his visor screen. His normal means of communication are out. Though he does have Laserbeak to record him while he uses optimus's face and voice to say all kinds of horrible, blackmail-worthy slag that could completely ruin his public image whenever Cybertron gets restored. He'll definitely take requests too :)
Optimus
Optimus is a mech who typically garners a lot of respect, by virtue of his position, his demeanor, and his sheer size. What he is not used to eliciting, however, is fear. And it hurts just a little seeing his trusted allies shrink back when they see him. He has no face to give comforting looks. His voice is not his, especially not under so many layers of off-putting static. Even his big, steady servos, so used to pulling people up when they fall, are good for little more than striking. And that's without mentioning the monstrous tentacles he finds himself relying on. He feels terrifying, and he doesn't like it one bit.
Dreadwing
Dreadwing does not like the Predacons. He doesn't like the Predacons one bit. Call him stuffy with his moral code, but he's firmly of the camp that if something is dead it should STAY dead. The odd little experiments Shockwave concocted are no exceptions. They shouldn't be alive, plain and simple. And the fact that currently he IS one of the resurrected beasts and the brain of this disgusting undead thing is running around in HIS body is, quite frankly, unacceptable. He's going to be looming over the resident scientists with his new terrifying form until they find a way to fix this grievous error and return things to some semblance of normalcy.
Predaking
He feels... Terribly small. Especially in his altmode. Flying without needing to move your wings at all is quite a strange experience. As is having no face or limbs outside robot mode. He's just so compact and it's all very uncomfortable. He will admit, though, it's nice being treated less like an animal. He's yearned to be seen as an equal, true and proper, and this is about as close as he's gotten.
Wheeljack
Oh man, he switched bodies with the straight laced hard aft? Man, if Primus really has a hand in how things play out, he's one funny bitch. He's taking full comedic advantage of this situation, much to Magnus's chagrin. He's saying every swear he knows and breaking every petty rule in the autobot code that he knows isn't really enforceable. He's going on insane monologues about how rules keep us from descending into chaos in a horrible impression of Magnus that overshoots and ends up sounding closer to Sam the eagle from the muppets than anything. The kids are laughing their asses off. Bots who have worked with magnus are doing everything in their power not to laugh, with mixed success rates.
Ultra Magnus
Ulta Magnus does not care too much about being shorter or currently looking like a delinquent with no regard for anything other than his own personal amusement and some abstract concept of "coolness." ...Okay, he cares a lot and its very frustrating that people take a second to take him seriously again, but he cares much MORE about the delinquent currently inhabiting HIS frame and making a mockery of everything he believes in!!! It's unacceptable behavior and his body should be treated with the respect it deserves, not puppeted around for unfunny satire!!! He refuses to stoop to his level and mock back, so he'll simply stare him down until he gets the damn message.
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withclawandvine · 1 month
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i’ve seen some really cute headcanons and fics about elucien + the language of flowers, but please consider one in which elain doesn’t actually know it
i'm sure the library in the archeron estate had books on it, but for the sake of this lil scenario, let’s say it didn’t. so when she finally decides to break some of the ice between her and lucien by offering him some flowers she’d grown and picked herself, the choices were based on color and scent.
while lucien is in velaris to debrief with rhys, feyre insists on hosting a dinner. and instead of ignoring lucien or delcining the invitation altoghether, elain gifts him the small bouquet.
and lucien... i mean he’s been alive a long time and spent a lot of it in the spring court. i’d say he's at least familiar with flowers and their meanings.
we also know that lucien admittedly doesn’t know much about elain, but what information he does gather, he puts to use. so he takes what he knows — that elain loves flowers and gardening — and makes the assumption that she must be well-versed in the language of flowers.
which is why he ends up in his velaris apartment staring at the vase on his table like 🤨🤨🤨🤨 trying to figure out what in the fuck she’s trying to tell him. and just being hopelessly confused bc the ones she chose symbolize: eternal sleep, motherhood, hatred, fidelity, beauty, and..... conquest in battle ???
a hilarious image, if i do say so myself. also him getting all snarky in his frustration, grumbling to himself about how she might be committing to the becoming fae bit a little to hard with all the riddles.
but wait !! there's more:
next time lucien sees elain, she’s tending to feyre and rhys’s garden and he strikes up a conversation by saying he might need to brush up on his flower symbolism because he suspects he was wrong about some of the meanings and she’s like ????? and he explains and they get a good laugh about it. but then elain asks him to point out the flowers he knows the meanings for bc she’s obviously very interested in this information. 
and when lucien points to some daisies and says they're known to symbolize new beginnings, elain plucks one by the stem and with a shy smile, tucks it behind his ear
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66sharkteeth · 3 months
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WEEKLY THOUGHTS ON THIS WEEK'S EPISODE! Though tbh I think I covered a chunk of it last week-
This Claude arc has been some of the writing I'm most proud of in the entire comic, and I'm so happy other people are enjoying it too. Seeing Claude go from the series' punching bag to someone seemingly everyone's screaming over and pitying really feels like an accomplishment to me and I'm so glad even the people who don't love Claude are at least sympathizing with him (the vast majority anyway). Also shout out to Claude's leg for increasing my FP sales. I can't express enough how much my FP revenue's been impacted ever since the return. I got literally less than half of my usual income this month (when I needed it most lol) but the FP numbers *almost* returned to their old average this week, so thanks everyone who fast passed to see the fate of Claude's leg lol.
This is one of those episodes that was a long time coming and I have some kind of strong feelings about it. I've been planning to lop of his leg since high school, but I did admittedly start to get a pit in my stomach the closer it got. By the time these episodes publish, I'm usually over it and laughing to cope (see above), but I hope at least a few people were as disturbed as I was writing it. Which...I know sounds mean, but I really admire media that can get that feeling out of me (without going over the top and scarring me) and it's something I hope I can achieve too. Some of the most important pieces of media that influenced me growing up (FMA, some animations that inspired CoB, Paranoia Agent, etc), really gave me a gut-sinking level of disturbance as a kid, but boy I'm glad I saw them because they sure made an impact in a way that I think made me a stronger writer, and that's one of those things I hope I can achieve.
Anyway, to address a few points I'm seeing throughout the comments- 1. Jericho's reaction. I left it kind of vague on purpose. I have no comment on it and just leave you guys to speculate on how he will react or encourage you to FP to find out (sob please).
2. people legitimately criticizing joking about claude's leg. which is interesting to me. obv there's a lot of jokes and leg puns throughout the comments, and soooometimes I don't like that when a very serious episode's comment section is filled w/ nothing but jokes, buuut there are also enough real comments of concern and speculations and analysis of the ep that i really, really don't mind some leg jokes and puns, personally. like...as you can tell from the image above, even I'm not above making them. To the people who think it's actually fucked up for us to joke about this scene... I dunno. I personally laugh to cope, and I think a lot of other people are doing the same. I don't think anyone's literally going "LOL HE'S SO DEPRESSED HE MUTILATED HIMSELF," I think its just...funny leg puns to make a dark situation a little lighter. At least for the most part. I'm certainly not above joking about it, but as you'll see in the next episode, I'm also obviously taking it seriously and don't plan to make Claude such a butt of jokes now that he's reached this point. That would just be in bad taste. But... I think a leg pun here and there is still in line.
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yukidragon · 2 months
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Sunny Day Jack - Cat AU
Okay, so, two particular pieces of beautifully drawn fan art have collided together in my head to create a light and fluffy self-indulgent image that I just had to share with you all.
@okamiliqueur's heartbreaking picture of Jack's lonely and forgotten box from the new demo made me think of cats abandoned in boxes, "free to a good home." Only in the case of the game's story, he was left out in the rain to rot, the owner having given up giving him a good home.
@jazzylovetodraw's picture of Jack as a cat has been buzzing in my mind for quite a while. I just love how precious he looks in both forms, and when I was thinking of Jack being like those abandoned kittens in cardboard boxes... well, the combination was obvious.
I know that Jack's fursona is a snake, and I know being a cat is Shaun's thing, but I'm a sucker for kitties. I'm as biased towards cats as I am for dragons, if my avatar and username didn't offer enough of a hint. ;3 I'd love to see all the characters as kitties honestly.
Tempting though it may be to go with Fruits Basket rules for kitty Jack, like I toyed with over on twitter, I think I'm going to play with a different and simpler set of rules. In this universe, Jack is stuck as a cat until his sunshine's love allows him to become human again.
Admittedly, it's kind of hard to imagine Jack being alone for very long when he looks so adorable. Who wouldn't fall in love with that precious kitty face instantly? Most everyone would be putty in his paws.
Content Warning: I wind up touching on a couple explicit headcanon details near the end. I mean, I did say this is a pretty self-indulgent image with my OTP.
Maybe Jack was stuck as a cat via a curse ala Hocus Pocus and is guarding the box/tape/etc. Maybe he was stuck as a cat instead of in the tape and no one could see him until MC came along. Maybe he's got a tragic backstory like the cat from Fruits Basket.
Since this AU is more about the vibes, I'm just going to leave the how and why parts of the lore up in the air. All that matters is that Jack is stuck as a cat and left out in the rain in a cardboard box until MC decides to take him home.
I'm just going to switch over to Alice and what she would do in this scenario. Poor lonely Alice is out on the town, when she comes across the box out in the rain and sees an equally lonely kitten. Poor little thing, all wet and sad... She just has to take him home with her.
Alice cleans Jack up, gets him wrapped up all nice and warm in a blanket, and even gives him some chicken she bought for her own dinner that night. She'll have to get cat food and other things for her new furry companion tomorrow, though she should probably look for his owner and take him to a vet.
At first, Jack isn't sure what to do about the situation, though he is grateful. No one has even acknowledged his existence until Alice came along. She's so soft and warm. He loves it when she holds him. She's so kind too.
Alice does find it surprising Jack doesn't put up a fuss when being given a bath. Jack didn't exactly like the feeling of being all grimy, and don't get him started on fleas and other gross things cats have to deal with on the streets!
The vet isn't as fun, though Jack is well behaved, though very clingy to Alice throughout the appointment. He can't help but fear that she'll abandon him too. He'll keep up the helpless and adorably needy kitty act if it means she'll stay with him.
There's no ID chip, no tag, and no missing notice for any cat that looks like Jack. It's clear that the poor guy is a stray.
Alice is hesitant initially. She's wanted to get a pet cat for a long time now, but she has barely been able to take care of herself. How can she handle taking care of an innocent life that needs her when she's struggling so much with her own life?
That hesitation doesn't last long. Jack loves on Alice so much, constantly purring and snuggling up to her. He curls up with her when she sleeps or relaxes. He was hesitant at first, and she assumed that was because he was wary of her, when in reality, he just didn't want to cross any of her boundaries. He didn't want to do anything that might upset her and make her get rid of him. When she started petting and cuddling him, he wholeheartedly returned the affection, absolutely starved for it.
The first thing Alice thought when she saw Jack was that he was lonely, just like her. He's so sweet and can't stand to be apart from her. How can she just get rid of him when he makes her feel loved and needed?
Of course, a cat's life isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Cat food is a step down from people food, and a litterbox is anything but sanitary. Jack just skips that nonsense and goes straight to using the toilet despite the awkwardness, which shocks the heck out of Alice. He also snubs all cat food in favor of human food.
Yes, I could go with Jack being a ghost(?) cat that doesn't need food or to use the toilet, but then he wouldn't have gone through the indignities of a vet visit.
Then again... it would be funny if Alice brought Jack to the vet, only for them to think she's crazy, since to them all she's carrying is empty air.
Hmm... yeah, I think I'll go that route. As hilarious as vet hijinks and typical cat care with Jack while he possesses a human mind and identity might be, this would be a more interesting and tragic route. No one else can see Jack but Alice. He's lived for who knows how long in a world full of people that don't see him at all, unable to even be human anymore. It'd be a different type of hell than the one in the video tape, similar to what I talked about in my previous ramble.
Imagine if the 1984 incident Jack died and became a ghost(?) cat because he was secretly a cat shape shifter or something. Or maybe something more supernatural happened during the incident. Either way, cat ghost(?) Jack is very, very lonely.
Man, I just realized, it would be even more tragic (and complicated) if I go with the reincarnation route for this AU. Ghost(?) cat Jack probably had to watch Mary die slowly in the hospital after the incident, unable to help her or let her know that it's him. He couldn't even offer her comfort in her final days. It would've been so traumatizing.
For now, let's just play with this AU without the reincarnation angle, since this is supposed to be mostly light and fluffy feline fun with the OTP.
Jack, even as a cat, tries to do his best to help Alice out. If he can make himself useful, make her need him, then he won't ever lose her. He sneaks out when she goes to work to keep her company even though she initially tried to get him to stay home. No one sees him, so it won't matter. Besides, petting an invisible kitty is a good stress relief when dealing with awful customers, and certainly beats regular stimming.
The more Alice cares for Jack, the more powers he gets back, starting with the ability to talk. It's a huge shock for Alice of course, but Jack makes it clear that it's because of her love for him that made her stronger.
Of course, that love is platonic, at least at the start, which Jack knows full well, but he'll work on shifting things to a romantic love... especially after he gets the power to shift back into a form that has hands.
Like in typical canon, Jack answers Alice's questions as best he can. He probably lost his sense of identity like in game canon, so he references CloudyTown and stuff "he" did there, mixing up the show's lore with his own past. It's also intermingled with his many years spent wandering the streets being ignored and going crazy from the loneliness.
Jack does let Alice know that he used to be able to change from a cat to human. He just... can't anymore. He thinks it was because he was forgotten. He doesn't know why no one can see him until Alice came along.
It's so sad and tragic that Alice can't be unmoved by his plight. Sure, it makes things a bit awkward knowing that Jack is sentient and used to have a human form, but she feels for him. It also makes sense now why Jack always turned away whenever she changed.
Yes, Jack could have peeked. He could have even watched Alice while she was bathing, but he didn't. He refuses to do anything she won't allow. Cuddling her and sleeping in her bed is innocent, but the thoughts he'd have about her when she was undressing were anything but. He loves her too much to take advantage of her innocent trust in him. He needs her to want him to see her in that vulnerable state... even if it drives him crazy lusting over her. Poor pitiful kitty can't even have a good wank off session with his paws.
Still, despite knowing that Jack was human and is sentient, it's hard for Alice not to fall for his feline charms and not think too deeply about that fact. She still winds up cuddling him and petting him.
Of course, when it first hits Alice that she's treating a human like a pet, she stops and apologizes, but Jack insists that it's fine. He enjoys their cuddle time. He gives her the big, pleading kitty eyes as he begs her not to stop, and she can't help but give in.
Awkwardness soon fades and settles into a strange new normal. Alice does wonder if Jack really is real or if she was just so lonely she imagined something this crazy... but his presence is comforting. He keeps her company almost all the time. She doesn't feel alone anymore thanks to him.
Also... now that Jack can talk, he says such sweet things. It's weird to have a "pet" take care of her, but he reminds her of when it's time to brush her teeth, wakes her up for work, helps her get chores done despite how awkward it is with his paws and small size... It's so endearing.
The encouragement and assistance Jack gives Alice is wonderful, and his jokes are so fun and silly, but it's the praise that leaves her feeling flustered. If she didn't know any better, she could swear that he's almost flirting with her sometimes. She's in denial that's what it is, but it feels nice to be told that she's cute, and Jack is so sincere about it... and how can she not melt when he says sweet things with such a sweet face?
It's one morning that things change drastically. Alice's bond with Jack strengthened over time to the point that Jack finally can change back into a mostly human form, though he does have cat ears, a fluffy tail, and whisker markings.
It was a big surprise to them both really, as Jack transformed in his sleep. Alice had gotten used to cuddling up to a talking cat during the night, so it was a shock to wake up in a pair of big muscular arms. Jack was so happy when waking her that morning, giddy to show her his (mostly) human side, that it slipped his mind what a shock it would be.
Naturally, Alice bolted back against the wall away from the stranger in her bed. Jack quickly started reassuring her of who he was and that she wasn't in danger. He stooped down to her level, pretty much wilting really, with ears folded back, as he apologized for scaring her. He was just so happy that he wasn't thinking about how it must look from her side...
Seeing Jack so pitiful and sad, Alice feels her heart go out to him. Once things calm down, she can't help but be amazed by how he looks. Unthinkingly, she reaches up to pet his ears and feel how they attach to his skull. She only fully realizes how forward she's being when Jack starts purring.
Flustered, Alice immediately pulls back, only for Jack to whine at the loss of her touch. He didn't mind it at all. He always loves it when she cuddles with him.
It's a complicated feeling for Alice. On the one hand they've been very close for so long. On the other, Jack is definitely a human, so it feels different now.
Yet, Jack is so sweet. He's mindful of her hesitation, even if he's disappointed. It's harder for him to hide his feelings with such expressive ears. Alice can't help but want to reach out to him, especially after they've already spent so much time together, getting to know one another. He's chased away the loneliness that had been haunting her for so, so long.
Of course, now that Jack has a human form, Alice finds her feelings slipping into "dangerous" territory. He makes her feel so good, so loved, and she feels for him too. She doesn't want to dare assume he might feel anything more for her than just a friend, but she can't help but notice the way he looks at her, the way he clearly longs to be near her. He's so tender and gentle... and they've already been so cuddly.
It's easier for Alice to find herself cuddling up to Jack, letting him and taking guilty pleasure from his gentle warmth. He pets her hair too in return, and it feels surprisingly good... a bit too good at times.
The line between friend or something more blurs with all the cuddles and petting. Alice feels guilty about it, but Jack keeps encouraging her until, finally, something has to give and their relationship changes. Both of them feel relieved when it does, as they couldn't help but worry that their feelings might not be reciprocated.
In a lot of ways, it's pretty close to the normal continuity, just with some fuzzy ears on top. Jack can change into a cat at will now. As he gets stronger, people can start to see him, perhaps as a feline silhouette, or maybe with some unsettling shadows not from a cat. He's certainly going to be a bit territorial and not be afraid to hiss and use his claws if absolutely necessary.
Still, this kitty is pretty content thanks to Alice. Jack loves it when Alice carries him around as a teeny kitty, warm and snuggly against her chest, even in the cleavage of her shirt at times. Naturally, he returns the favor, carrying her around the apartment as often as possible. It's only fair after all~!
Naturally, Jack wants to get intimate with Alice as soon as she lets him. He's so pent up. Even with hands to take care of himself, all the cuddling and now kisses just make him ache for her even more. He longs to be inside her, biting her gently and growling in pleasure as he takes her.
A bonus with Jack being part cat is that he gets to have some vibrating action when he purrs. It adds a whole new dimension to their lovemaking, whether he's using his mouth on her sensitive parts, or thrusting himself deep inside.
Oh, I'm reminded of the cat-like features I mentioned in the Omegaverse AU. I guess Jack, having feline features, would have a dick that's ribbed for her pleasure too. Tongue too. Neither would be sharp because rule of sexy, but it would add a very pleasurable texture that a clever man like Jack is going to take full advantage of~
Of course, Alice can take advantage of those feline features too. The base of Jack's tail and ears are quite sensitive, and she quickly learns what spots get his motor running. Of course, getting Jack excited will lead to him pouncing on her and getting rather frisky, but Alice would certainly be expecting that result~
I can imagine Jack could make himself look fully human without any feline features, but he knows Alice finds his cat side to be adorable. She has a hard time resisting petting him when his ears and tail are out, and he certainly wants to encourage her to pet him as much as possible. He also wants to encourage her to let him pet her as much as possible.
Of course, if Jack can become powerful enough that other people can see him, he'll have to stick with only cat or human form when out in public. Still, even when other people can see and hear him, he prefers to be in Alice's company. Cats have their preferred human, and Alice is Jack's.
Naturally, Jack would have to be sneaky about showing Alice love when in public if there's a chance of getting caught. Good thing he has that perfectly innocent little kitty form to hide in. I can imagine it would lead to some interesting interactions where someone shows up only to find Alice incredibly flustered with a slightly disheveled appearance, while her "pet" Jack is just casually looking smug, as all cats do.
Person: Whoa, what happened to you?
Alice, not looking them in the eye: Uh... Jack, m-my cat just... ah, got a bit excited.
Person: Heh. Cats, am I right?
Alice: Haha... right.
Jack: :3c
Hmm... I wonder then if the other love interests should have cat transformations in this AU too. It'd be a crime if Shaun doesn't have that ability but Jack does. Jack already gets together with Alice, so I don't want to be extra cruel to Shaun.
Admittedly, I don't have too many ideas for other characters with cat modes. Well, aside from an image of Shaun taking care of his baby MoonPie by carrying her around by the scruff. This post was mostly just indulging in sweet moments with my OTP with a bit of feline flavor sprinkled on top. Maybe I'll revisit the idea again if I get more ideas than just a bit of fluff.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this silly romp with Alice and Jack having some feline fun times!
@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps
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genderliquid-witch · 2 months
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Do flowers bloom from walkers? (Radical optimism in The Walking Dead: The Final Season)
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I remember playing The Final Season for the first time way back in October of 2022 and immediately being blown away by how polished the game was in comparison to its predecessor. I mean I had always loathed the visual style of A New Frontier, so this comic-book inspired look was a nice change of pace, especially once combined with the expert use of lighting that is present throughout the game. But what really took me off guard, more so than anything else, was the opening credits.
I mean, obviously; these games had never done anything like this before. And while I'm fond of the whole FADE IN TITLE ACCOMPANIED BY OMINOUS MUSICAL CUE, this was a welcome change. But there was one specific image that stuck with me throughout my playthrough: the decomposing walker (pictured above), painted in greyscale, with the only colour being the stark red background and the yellow flowers blooming from its corpse. I like to think that it was an intentional decision that ties into the game's themes and not just "Oh this looks cool, let's do it", but it weirdly never came up again. So I was kind of just left to play the game while it loomed in the back of my head, waiting for its moment to shine.
It wasn't until almost a year later where I'd figure out what the image represented, or at least my interpretation of it, and I settled on this conclusion: this decomposing walker is supposed to represent this apocalyptic world, and the flowers symbolise the people that attempt to build from it, in this case the Ericson's kids.
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I've had this opinion for a while that if the first three games show the attempts and failures to re-establish the old world ideals of order and civil society, then The Final Season serves as a rejection of that idea. From the walker-ridden fortress of Crawford in Season One to the bureaucratic nightmare that was the New Frontier, it's an accepted fact that these attempts at returning to the methods of days gone is ultimately futile and will result in total collapse, largely due to the decisions of its rulers. While we could argue about which of these groups is truly the worst, they all originate from the same basic principle: a desire to return to normality. Crawford, Howe's, the New Frontier; these groups were formed by people who, while cruel and monstrous in their own ways, all had the admittedly noble goal of attempting to return order to this ravaged world, but failed due to their leaders' cruel and selfish actions.
Or did they? (Vsauce sfx)
There's this interaction Lee has with Katjaa in the very first episode of Season One that has stuck with me for a while. It's an optional dialogue so it's very easy to miss (I did on my first playthrough), but when Katjaa hopes that things can go "back to normal", Lee has the option of expressing resentment for this old world:
"But they weren't before? The banks, the politics, the--the crap--those things are gone. Hell comes in a lot of different colors."
Usually this "fuck the old world" sentiment is expressed by sociopaths who are excited to enact their sadistic desires onto other survivors, but Lee's resentment for society feels a lot more justified. The fact that Lee is a black man who's specialty is American history makes his criticism of wanting to go back to how things were feel more warranted; he's someone who understands how corrupt and unjust the societal structure of the past was, so of course he'd feel conflicted about longing for its return.
And while this is just a small interaction, I feel it plays into what I've been talking about. Crawford, Howe's, the New Frontier; did these factions collapse because of their evil leaders, or because they were emulating an inherently unjust and corrupt power structure? Their desire for order and stability allows them to see past the cruelties that came with building these hierarchical societies, to the point where they begin to mimic governments of the old world (Crawford, discrimination and the outlining of "undesirables"; Howe's, prison labour and terror; the New Frontier, imperialism and state corruption). So these failed factions force us to ask the question: is a return to order possible in this world?
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It isn't until the The Final Season that the games give us an answer to that question: no, it isn't, but that doesn't mean you can't start something new.
When introduced to Ericson's it's made immediately apparent how different they are to any other group we've met before. While there's the obvious homage to Lord of the Flies with a group being made up of entirely children, I think this is more than just a "well it's the final game, best do something interesting". Children are a symbol of hope and optimism, but also of potential and, in a more abstract sense, the future. They are clay that has yet to be moulded, with infinite potential, a luxury most adults don't have. So I don't think it's a coincidence that the main group in this game, and the one that Clementine eventually settles with, is comprised entirely of children: it feels like an intentional choice to highlight how this group will be the one to survive on account of how they have the potential to create something new.
And it's not just their age demographic that makes Ericson's so distinct from the other groups in the series, but also their power structure. Following Marlon's death, their is no one person in control of the group. Sure, there are leaders (Violet takes the chair once Marlon's out of the picture, and upon her return Clementine becomes the one who's advising the group), but they feel like role models and advisors more than anything. When Violet takes the reigns it doesn't seem like anyone truly acknowledges her authority, and she doesn't even seem to enforce it either. Same goes for Clem; she doesn't really express any desire to control the rest of the group, instead preferring to make decisions in a more democratic manner as to include everyone's individual skills and expertise.
Ericson's vision of society more closely resembles that of an anarchist commune than any government that previously existed, and it manages to be the only group left standing by the end. It's through cooperation and an altruistic attitude that keeps them alive in the end; their concerns for the survival of the group far outweigh any desire to create "order". And I don't think it's a coincidence that a majority of the game's antagonists (Lilly, Minerva, and even James) are people who represent the past. Lilly is obsessed with the cruel lessons her father taught her and prides herself in her attachment to the militaristic level of discipline that she inflicts upon her subordinates. Minerva is essentially a ghost of the past, with her whole arc with Violet and Tenn serving as a lesson on the dangers of holding onto the past. James, while good natured and mostly kind, can't bring himself to accept the fact that the world has changed, and its these beliefs that either kill him or sever the only connection he had made in years.
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To conclude, while Telltale's The Walking Dead is a series that is rife with conflict and tragedy, I also find it to be a story that is ultimately about hope. I always considered that Lee's greatest lesson to Clementine wasn't how to shoot a gun or to cut her hair, but instilling within her a radical sense of hope, the idea that things can be better, and you should always try your damnedest to make it happen. That even in the most desolate of circumstances, something profoundly beautiful can bloom.
Or maybe I've been wrong this whole time and flowers growing out of a walker just looks really cool.
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