#and you know what? the way the author handles the concept of coming out and anonymity is so fucking relatable
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HIJAB BUTCH BLUES by LAMYA H.
Alright, changing it up a bit with my book stuff but this one hit home with me. The author draws very interesting parallels between stories in the Quran and her experiences as a gay muslim woman that are very interesting. And if you think you can’t be muslim and gay, or wear a hijab and be gay, or even tackle muslim culture and queerness in one, then you’re bound to be pleasantly proved wrong with this one.
#and you know what? the way the author handles the concept of coming out and anonymity is so fucking relatable#the author remains anonymous per her own choice and thats fucking something#lgbtq books#lgbt books#book recommendations#lgbt book recs#queer book recommendations#queer books#gay muslim#lesbian muslim#queer muslim#muslim representation#muslim books#lgbt muslim#lgbtq muslim#lgbt+ books#hijab butch blues#lamya h#hijab butch blues lamya
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. //ALL BOYS | hybrid au.
ch: cat hybrids!gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, ryomen sukuna, choso; dog hybrids!geto suguru, itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji; snake hybrid!naoya zenin; dolphin hybrid!inumaki toge; parrot hybrid!mahito; fox hybrids!nanami kento, noritoshi kamo.
cw: concept of hybrids; heat/rut.
tw: breeding kink; hickeys/bites; overstimulation/overexcitement; somnophilia; maybe they all have some yandere-isms; delaying orgasm; multiple orgasms; naoya is as scummy as ever; voyeurism; maybe!non-con; rough sex; who even reads tags; cunnilingus; slit play; submissive!inumaki, yuji; mirror sex; is big dick a warning? big dicks; creampie; pour yourself a warm cuppa, don't be like author; dirty talk; tender sex; size difference.
cw: 6.6k
GETŌ SUGURU
Geto is a nice guy, he won't push you over the top excessively, well able to handle the rut on his own.
But it's so boring! In fact, you might not even notice how more and more translucent, wet smudges appear on your mattress every night.
He'll even go so far as to use your thighs to recreate the illusion that he's fucking you when the sheets and his hand are no longer enough for self-satisfaction.
Oh, he clearly understands where the boundaries are, firm and unconditional. It's unlikely you'll realize there's something wrong with him before it's too late to do anything about it - he's already struggling to contain himself throughout the day, patiently waiting for the moment when he can touch you with impunity, but if his overall arousal rises even the slightest bit, he'll just short-circuit.
Not in the sense of nonstop, wild fucking - nope, really; his affection and the sweet desire that had overwhelmed him would come out in one solid, warm lump.
He'll literally cling to you - he'll wallow in bed with you, wrapped in the sheets, cradling you and sucking on your shoulders and neck, needing attention and stubbornly ignoring your pleas for it to stop, he might even growl at you if you try to break free of his grip. Even though you won't succeed without it - Suguru will still get rougher with you if you offer any resistance.
But even so, you probably won't be able to figure out what's exactly going on with him - it's more like a typical bout of tenderness, which he gets quite often because he loves you.
From now on, anything he's done in secret before will no longer be. And you're gonna have to accept that - you should know by now what a piece of shit he really is.
This man will do the same thing to you, only now and when you're awake. Oh, don't worry, he won't touch you unless you beg for it. And you will.
He likes the way you taste. You can be sure he won't disappoint you; his nimble, harsh tongue sure is capable of a lot - how long do you think he will let you go? I hope you know that his stamina increases a lot during the rut.
You'll probably wake up one day to the unearthly sensation of his tongue in your hole as Suguru moans into your pussy, obviously touching himself down there, making you cum for the umpteenth time in a row.
Or from the way he, decides to take advantage of your hips while you sleep peacefully in the, now shared, bed. Sly dark eyes look completely innocent - like he's picking out a bun for his breakfast - oh, baby, he's not doing anything wrong, so you don't have to forgive him!
"Nah, nah, nah, calm down, honey. It's no big deal."
Someday, that sly squint will drive you crazy.
GOJŌ SATORU
An already very insolent creature turns into an absolute asshole whose meanness is elevated to an absolute.
Oh, do you really want to trade him in for your useless, boring job? Sweetie, you're so naive to believe he'll let you out of bed for a couple hours.
You'd better take the weekends off, for the duration of his rut, because he won't be thinking about secondary things like your general busyness. When mating season starts - all you have to worry is him. Your only concern, to whom you'll have to give all your free (and not) time, one way or another.
This guy remains a teaser even when he himself is panting with desire. He has the stamina, frankly, to taunt you despite his aching cock, even in moments of complete shutdown of any self-consciousness - it's like his second nature.
One of his favorite tricks is to pump you as much as he can into you, making sure your eyes roll back as hard as they can and your throat makes those sweet sounds of pleasure just for him, turning your poor, already fucked-up brain into a fucking mess.
Gojo always demands a lot of your attention, but then again, almost all of the unpleasant aspects of his personality are more pronounced when mating season begins.
His favorite thing to do during this time is to make you almost cry with pleasure while you squeeze his cock so sweetly. His stamina on such days is just off the charts, if on normal days you passed out from overexcitement and fatigue, what do you think will happen then when he wants to fuck you for hours on end?
Nothing good, that's for sure. It'll be a half dream and half vision for you - you might pass out during the process and then suddenly start screaming, probably from the pain in your tortured pussy when you wake up - if he's already on instinct, he'll cum in you over and over again, squeezing your thighs until he passes out, or until the obsession wears off.
Satoru even can help you take a shower, though he has a negative attitude toward it, rather than a tolerant one.
In fact, you really need his help, because even standing up afterwards can be a bit difficult. I strongly recommend not to refuse it - during his animal outbursts, you better not argue with him (yes, he cares about you purely on instinct).
A man will prefer you to complain less and listen to him more - even if all he can utter is inarticulate mooing and scraps of simple words, which is highly expected at the peak of his rut.
Along with that, he's soothed by the sound of your voice-even if sometimes his brains are so cluttered that he has no idea what you're saying, able to recognize only intonation and subtly sensing any change in your speech.
"Mm, sweetie, I don't think…"
Even after half an hour this sentence was still not finished. Well, he really doesn't think.
NAOYA ZEN'IN
This naga really annoys you.
In fact, Naoya thinks you owe him a debt. To be grateful or not is up to you, but his opinion is the only constant: you were chosen by him, so you belong to him now, and you should be grateful that he treats you that way.
He will make you say those words over and over again, delaying orgasms, or covering your body with love bites (careful, he's poisonous, but you might say you're lucky - there's an aphrodisiac flowing in his fangs right now, thank him for that <3). Maybe that's not enough? Don't worry, he'll go to the lengths of hurting you for real too, mere spanking and pinching will seem like child's play compared to what he'll do if you don't satisfy him and his sick fantasies.
Fortunately or miserably, this bastard is perfectly in control of himself during the breeding season.
Even if he's pounding and shaking at times, if you see him curled up in some dark and warm corner, know that there's no cause for concern - it doesn't hurt him much, just his body doesn't know where to put all that energy. However, Naoya himself perfectly knows where he can use it.
If you hear a soft crackling sound from somewhere behind the door, don't be in a hurry to take off your clothes - you can change later, but if the crackling sound is accompanied by a hiss, you'd better turn into a docile and submissive slut and spread out on the bed, throwing your new outfit as far away as possible.
As said above, the naga is perfectly self-controlled, so don't be surprised if you feel the tip of his tail between your legs, playfully stroking your thigh and pressing against your heat through your clothes.
Yes, Naoya does it on purpose - just to watch your reaction. It gives him a kind of… Voyeuristic satisfaction - sort of the same nature as those rare occasions of watching you from behind closed doors while he tries to touch himself as quietly as possible, drilling you with the stare of narrow, golden eyes while you unsuspectingly pull off your clothes and wiggle your hips ever so brazenly.
He could go further - he knows you won't stop him, but he won't, torturing himself and even you, who've been guessing a little about his fascination lately, with the agonizing wait, only to be left with nothing.
Of the good (and partly even sad): just because he wants you to carry his children doesn't mean nature agrees with him. His body is incapable of forming "proper" embryos inside the eggs - they're all somehow, in their own way, but defective; most likely this has come about as a result of long and not very skilled breeding, as well as frequent incest, but either way, the fact remains. So, after these sessions, they usually just turn into nothing.
Well, really, don't say anything about it. For better or for worse, both are insulting and offensive to him in their own way (you're not going to be well, just trust me).
"What idiotic problem do you have this time? Well, let's solve it together… "
A dangerous clicking sounded behind you. Don't turn around.
INUMAKI TOGE
So obedient and endlessly tender boy.
While his slit is oozing with lubricant - he tries to continue helping you with the cooking, gradually losing his head more and more. Light, quiet trills come out of his mouth, getting more like a squeak from literally your any movement.
You can play with him a little - so vulnerable in this state. For example, you could accidentally spill water on him or knock over a bowl of cream, and then start rubbing the wet, sticky apron, pressing and rubbing the spot as if by accident.
Inumaki wouldn't be able to tolerate this for long.
Literally in a matter of hours, he would be completely and utterly transformed into a lustful, needy mess. If he has to beg for your attention, you should know, he will
Sharp little teeth will nibble at your skin, leaving light marks on it, and a heavy, husky sniffle will tickle your ear for just as long as it takes. Anticipating your question: no, he won't be able to handle it on his own - his brains were already mush the moment he looked at you.
You can put your fingers in his slit and he'll squirm and moan just from the feel of your fingers in his crotch, but if you push them in a little deeper and massage what's inside…
He'll go crazy - you just have to run your fingers over what you might call the underside of his cock; the guy will only whimper and beg you to continue, lifting his hips and moving them to meet your hand.
If you don't want him to finish so soon, take your fingers out of his hole and wiggle your fingers around a bit, applying pressure and running them downward. Once his dick slips out, unable to stay there because of the copious amounts of natural lubrication - no matter how much Inumaki wants you to, you can do whatever you want with the guy - he won't resist
He just can't.
He always makes that lustful yet totally innocent, angelic face when you touch him.
He's happy to let you ride him, during a hot period, he's just not in control of himself (as he's basically always been - a guy can hardly be aware of his actions when he's aroused. You can make him perform the most idiotic action time after time - he won't suspect a thing. Here's the truth, though, that doesn't mean that after Toge cools off a bit, he won't blush and run off somewhere far away from you; don't be unkind).
But, if you're starting to think he's a snot, he's not so much submissive as horny, and in that state of mind, easier to hand over the reins of control to someone who's not completely out of his head and capable of doing the right thing.
Just drag him into the bathtub - you'll be instantly pinned to the wall, because he's no longer in control of his transformation, at a time when even his thoughts are flowing sluggishly, with great difficulty - barely. Caress his thighs, the place where the human part of him touches his tail. His belly will turn pink and his slit will begin to ooze lubrication.
His chirping will softly caress your ears, and his naughty fingers will find your warm spot pretty quickly. Seeing you enter a state like his makes Inumaki bite his lip. Careful with that, though - the teeth, which aren't large, are all razor sharp.
"Hn-n," the guy moans, followed immediately by a short, loud and awkward trill, cutting himself short.
But why, such a sweet sound isn't something to be embarrassed about.
ITADORI YUJI
This guy is actually obsessed with your butt.
The enthusiasm with which he moves his hips into you and digs his hands into your plump ass every time, kneading it like dough - real dedication, any way you look at it. He doesn't usually have this kind of eagerness, but right now, it looks almost desperate - the occasional thrusts and the subtle whimpers continuously emanating from his throat are so turned on.
Despite the fog in his head, he's still trying to hold himself back for you - it's so sweet, don't you think?
Itadori will try so hard for both of you - so hard that you'll have to force him to let you go so you don't both die of dehydration and you stop getting a hellish cramp in your hips with every thrust he makes.
He'll use your holes around the clock if you let him - but he's a good boy, so he'll stop if you ask him to. In other, don't expect any indulgences, he has almost low control over himself, being at the mercy of his instincts and hellish, unbridled arousal all day long - poor Yuji himself is waiting for it all to end, it exhausts him almost to the point of insanity.
He loves making you cum at the same time as him; at the same time, he's always hungry for your praise - he literally melts from it, go ahead.
You can gently touch your belly as you sit on his knot, push a little on the protruding outline of his cock - this boy already whimpers every time you squeeze him, hell yeah he'll go crazy
Yuji just can't help himself and will start licking your face like a real puppy, and please - please (!), touch it, touch it lower…
It might be safer for you to wait it out, but I'm afraid that if you do, Yuji won't be able to forgive himself or you.
He'll be able to let you go, he won't hold you back, but his trust in you will be shattered. Okay, if it happens in the beginning, before the guy even touches you, but if you disappear a couple days later, or even near the end, Itadori will be very worried about it. Yeah, he'll be freaking out - what if he did something wrong? Did he hurt you? Or maybe you just stopped liking him? No, no. For a creature who only seeks your approval, this would equate to a simple ditching - you'd break his heart.
"P-mg-please…!"
Itadori is rendered speechless by how skillfully you saddle his hips. Don't slow down.
MAHITO
Mahito is crazy on his own - the heat has almost no effect on him unless he wants it himself.
If you think he doesn't normally touch you - you are sorely mistaken. He may spend nights exploring your body out of pure interest, Mahito won't hold back his curiosity even if you catch him doing it - in fact, it will only encourage him to continue, even with more fervor, roughly touching everything he can reach with his fingers.
The guy will spread your legs, playing with your hole and rubbing your wretched clit until you start gasping from overexcitement and inability to cum.
Oh, this guy is cunning - he'll use every trick in his arsenal to bring you to the point of exhaustion. You may be wondering why you can't cum. It's simple really, Mahito just won't let you do it until he's played with you. You're wondering "how"? Well, speaking of his tricks, some manipulation of your soul results in this - you'll start feeling his touch everywhere, by the end of your adulteries, there won't be a place on your body that this pervert hasn't touched; indeed, inside you too.
He'll let you play with the feathers on his wings. In truth, he looks more like a particularly fluffy bat than a bird.
They're actually very soft, but you don't want to touch them for too long - just look at his eyes at that moment and you'll understand. If suddenly he grabs you and presses you against him, burying his nose in your neck, don't twitch, and certainly don't try to break free.
Relax and sit like that for a few minutes - settle on his hips, make yourself as comfortable as you like, fidget as much as you like - the guy's like Ken in there, so you don't have to worry about that, but you don't want to provoke his irritation.
On average, it's still not that bad. If only Mahito didn't clean out your fridge daily, things would still be exactly as they should be.
But, of course, the weirdness doesn't end there - one day he might just come along and screw your ass - it's up to you to decide what to do about it. Hopefully you know how a prostate massage is done, it will probably be enough for him - at the very least just play with his hole, oh it will throb so violently every time you hit some point deep inside the guy.
After all, this creature better not be denied too harshly.
"Ha-ha-ha!" The guy laughs loudly as you burrow your fingers into his feathers.
Just, don't yank those overly hard.
NANAMI KENTO
Nanami is a sufficiently mature man to sit down with you before all of this and discuss some of the details of the coming period.
Along with that, you have to decide what to do about it - he'll ask you a few times if you're ready for it before settling down and leaving you to mull over what's going on.
The fox has enough control over his state of mind that, if anything, he'll be able to stop in time and not hurt you much - at most, it'll be bruises on the wrists he likes to hold above your head so much. Usually, he tries to finish as quickly as he can, but sometimes he'll catch on.
You might regret allowing yourself the idea that sex with him is boring when the man continues to lazily thrust into you after two hours, not wanting to stop and shoving his cock into your tortured holes no matter what. But judging by the fact that even in this state, Kento continues to care about more than just his own pleasure - you're bound to cum next. Probably more than once.
A man likes it when you beg him and call him daddy. He has no idea why, but it makes him fuck you rougher, counting to sparks from your eyes and buckling legs, possibly affecting your ability to sit up properly or even stand without bending over from the pain in your stomach and ass… It's sure to be worse than your period.
Kento is a responsible man, he will definitely take care of his partner afterwards, because he knows very well what state you're in right now. He'll help you get to the bathroom if you don't mind - he'll even wash you with a nice bit of warm water, and in the morning you'll have breakfast waiting right in bed.
After all, like a true gentleman, he should take care of you, no matter how tired he is; after all, you also took care of him.
The only exception is when you make him jealous. In those cases, he is unable to even clean himself up, let alone do anything else. And, you're already wondering how to do it.
After this ambiguous period, Nanami will lose a lot of weight because his body can no longer consume food in the same quantities as it did during the rut. At times, he will simply forget to eat, due to his poor condition - frequent dizziness and general weakness, he will be immensely pleased if you show care towards him.
It is better to ventilate the apartment more often - low temperatures man tolerates better than heat - and already tired of this condition, the man will want only normal rest.
In addition, it is worth specifying the fact that he has a very sensitive sense of smell. Sharp odors irritate him, be careful with this.
"Are you alright?"
A slightly hitched, loud breath comes out of the man's chest with a slight whoosh.
NORITOSHI KAMO
Noritoshi is a pretty darling dude, he's embarrassed enough to talk to you about it, but he'll definitely give you a couple words of warning so it's not a total surprise.
Sweetness, he just doesn't know what to make of it. It's just as unfamiliar to him as it is to you - feeling his own body in this way is obviously new to the boy.
So, he will definitely ask for your help in solving this problem.
During the rut, the guy stays calm and even seems a bit sleepy, and that's actually true - if he could, he'd be asleep all day long, but alas, it will not be possible to just lay this thing off - no matter how much he wants to.
If the fox seems a little grumpy to you at first, that's normal. Aggression in the first couple of days is natural for his species, and even though he tries his best to keep it to a minimum, his fluffy tail will still rise up every time he sees you.
Massage his head, especially near his ears, and play with his hair a bit - you can comb it with a coarse-toothed comb to relax him.
The guy is as calm as a boa constrictor during this process - he has only one goal, to release tension; mostly his own, but you can work with that - the guy just doesn't know what to do with you, guide him a little, help him understand exactly what you want from him and he will pick it up immediately - he learns quickly.
After all, Camo is well aware that there's not much you can do alone - he's at your pleasure, especially when he's blown away.
The pace stays the same, darling, you probably won't even notice it, because you'll be blacking out just a couple minutes after the guy enters this state - most likely neither you nor he will understand why it happened; he - because he doesn't remember anything that happened to him during this state, you - for obvious reasons, just can't know it. Only the marks on your body and neck will be any hint of what happened.
Noritoshi is trying to take care of you - he's not a stupid person and realizes that you need follow-up care, even if you seem quite alert.
He will gently but insistently guide you to the bathroom and put you to bed, perhaps he can also stretch your stiff legs if he notices that you can't find a comfortable position.
You can ask him for help at any time - his fluffy ears will instantly turn in your direction, and he'll listen to your every word.
"Lay still, you need to rest."
To the question: "do you?" the guy only lets out a slight, barely elusive chuckle and sighs deeply.
OKKOTSU YUTA
It's not so clear-cut with him.
You can't be fully prepared for your furbaby's heat, no matter what you do before it. No one knows what will suddenly click in his poor head and what he will do to fulfill his desires.
You don't have to worry, though - he treats you like a princess, carries you around on his arm and makes you stay close to him; even if you don't like it very much, I highly recommend listening to him. Well, if it makes you feel any better - Yuta will always be more dangerous to others than to you.
Oh, his flushed face is so inviting.
Press your lips against his - bite them, kiss them like it's your last time, and he'll return the favor.
Yuta usually moves at a relatively slow pace, letting you relax and get used to him - to fully experience the process. The tingles rushing across your skin like electric shocks, something brackish on your lips, the cool air from the room contrasting so sharply with the heavy, hot breath that mingles with your languid moans caressing your ears.
Okkotsu likes it when you're on top. No, you still don't have complete control - Yuta is like a caring, overprotective parent, sort of letting his baby have all the fun he wants, but ready to interrupt and take over at a moment's notice.
In fact, he really does treat you like a baby. Despite the external insecurity, the guy is really aware of what he is doing and what consequences can come out of all this - he has plenty of responsibility, but sometimes it's hard to take him seriously.
Ah, yes, in spite of that, you still have to deal with a little bit of guardianship from his side, although it should be the other way around, but that's another story.
This cutie is hungry for affection - you can touch him everywhere, from his soft (slightly greasy) ears to the tip of his tail. His reaction will probably be the most adequate - he likes to be touched, but he is calm about it, without much passion, like a normal cat, even when he is constantly in a state of slight excitement.
Unless your actions become a little more intense. A little more pressure, a slight pull, a soft and rhythmic massage, lower… This will already be perceived as a signal for action.
But don't worry, you can touch him at any time without any problems - he even encourages it. In his own way, with a short lick on the cheek or a playful nibble on the neck, but he's really pleased that you're taking such initiative.
"Hey-hey-hey-hey, sparkle, that's not the point-you shouldn't be walking around like that after being so overwhelmed!"
The guy turns around to see you, awakened by the delicious aroma coming from the kitchen and now frozen in the doorway, wagging your tail unhappily as the oil in the pan sizzles and shoots upwards.
Oops, looks like you accidentally ruined the surprise.
RYŌMEN SUKUNA
Do you think he's possessive? Well, I'll stop you in your tracks - more like yandere on steroids.
You'll have to take a day off work - better a vacation right away, because Sukuna will not tolerate other people's scent on you at any stage of his rut - none at all, except his own.
Be sure that you have enough food at home, because heaven forbid you should bring even that slight residue of perfume from the elevator on you… It won't be good for you or the unfortunate person whose cologne was left hanging in the air before it settled on your clothes.
Sukuna treats you like a sex slave, a fuck toy, an inferior being, even with his four arms around your frail body and his cocks deep inside your insides and his dry lips whispering dirty words in your ear.
His attitude won't change, darling, but you'd better always stay within the confines of the same room with him and obediently spread your legs whenever he demands it.
In fact, you can initiate intercourse yourself - he won't stop you from pleasuring him, but know that even after that, he'll be sure to fuck you properly.
His favorite spot is the windowsill; pressing you against the glass, knowing full well that someone might notice you… There's something about it.
For some reason, a man especially likes to bend you roughly over right in front of him, making you rest your hands on the frame and shiver with each of his thrusts, while all his hands move slowly all over your body - stroking every curve, your swollen tummy, the waist so perfectly suitable for him to place one pair of his hands on it, your sweet titties bouncing with the rest of your body, while down below, your womb making the loudest, most shameful sounds just for him - Ryomen loves you whole and entire, even if he will never admit it to you or to himself.
Oh, if you can ever forget him (which is impossible in itself), the feeling of his cock in your pussy will not be erased from your memory. He is the master in your relationship, rather than you. And he likes to pamper his pet.
Sukuna has a very sensitive tail. If you ever want to touch it, ask permission, and then treat it as if it might fall apart at the slightest gust of wind.
Under no circumstances, God forbid, do not sit on it. Never, ever. Ryomen will not look at your relationship or your affection and empty, stale feelings as his heart.
He might not kill you, but he'll maim you for sure. In fact, he'll like you all he wants, but you're not likely to bounce back quickly - and the scars on your body will be an eternal reminder of your small but painful misstep and how dangerous he can be.
During sexual intercourse, you can lightly massage the very base of his back - where the fur meets the human part of his back - your actions will definitely be met by his approving purr, which may well pass for a growl, only slightly muffled (only for you!). The only thing - make sure that your hands are dry, and the fur does not stick to them (and it is better to touch only human skin around. That area is also sensitive, but he'll probably like it better).
"So pretty, little slut… Come on, come on, get your hand away from your face - I want to see your adorable face!"
Mockingly mutters Ryomen, continuing to move, and making you bite your lip as both of his cocks pierce your holes - too much? You beg him to stop.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
Even if Megumi is collected and calm at first, eventually even he'll start to waver.
His seemingly stable state will become a trap - he'll be ready to tear you apart if you get too close, because he doesn't know what to do with his new state yet. It's hard for him; try to talk to him from a distance, offer your help - we are responsible for those we tame.
If you can make a deal with him, he'll reluctantly get up and follow you into the bedroom, but if Fushiguro starts turning away from you and snorting, looking away and down, stop trying, it's not going to get you anywhere. Of course, I won't stop you from trying, but who knows what he'll do if you keep seducing him.
The guy will bite you. Back of the neck, almost behind the ear - you know.
It's not his bad whim (although it's hard to be responsible for that anymore), it's more of an instinct. Is it so hard to wait for him to tag his beautiful mate?
He eventually gets used to all this and starts to take a lot more initiative, sometimes grunting tiredly into your neck and wagging his tail, he still doesn't like his condition, but over time the guy becomes more tolerant of it all - taking it for granted, which isn't great, but anyhow better than a complete refusal to deal with it.
Megumi is a smart boy, he knows exactly what happens if you overdo it, so he always picks a pace that is comfortable for both of you.
For some reason, Fushiguro likes sex facing a reflection. He often moves that big full-length mirror in the corner of the room to your bed and spreads your legs in front of it, playing with your wet hole for long periods of time, making you squirm in his arms and beg for his cock, occasionally praising you and mumbling what a good girl you are - so obedient in his arms.
It really turns him on, his flushed cheeks and eyes twitching with pure delight - what you'll see in that very mirror, if you can do it, while his fingers are so deep inside you, caressing places you didn't even know existed - you just have to wonder, "How?" he manages to do that with just his hands?
He loves it when you cook his food - your cooking basically. You can spend half a day in the kitchen, be sure your labors will not go unnoticed, he will eat everything and thank you. If suddenly, you're wondering about the reward - don't worry, he's very generous, especially when he's fed and satisfied.
Megumi is damn fascinated by the way you try to please him - no matter how he's feeling at the moment, he'll always be mesmerized by the movements of your hands as if under hypnosis.
Stroke his head, and once you're free, massage his ears, and he'll be completely at your mercy, his eyes at that moment just something filled with boundless devotion and delight.
"Ha-ah, honey, you're just adorable," Megumi kisses you loudly on the top of your head, caressing your thighs with joy in his gaze and pulling you to him.
Ah, yes, the sudden bursts of joy and mood swings were worth getting used to.
FUSHIGURO TOJI
Absolute Asshole 2.0.
He knows how much you enjoy riding his cock and takes full advantage of it.
Toji teases you on purpose - accidentally miss when he seemed ready to be inside you? Slow down at the most inopportune moment? Oh, along with that, he also enjoys watching you melt, literally fall apart on his cock like a trained slut.
Fushiguro prefers to take turns using your holes, making sure both are filled.
It's exhausting - but this man is relentless. With him, you're sure to have a hard time. After two days, there won't be a surface in your house that he hasn't fucked you on.
Not to mention he'll snap on the first day - ask him to tie himself up and don't expect fair play. And if he does make the knots tight enough, you'll have to voluntarily do to him what he does to you on your own - not without that, alas.
You'll have to force him into the shower - he'll be completely neglected the moment he decides he doesn't need it. In fact, he does - and even if he doesn't normally smell, during the rut the whole house smells of that disgusting musky odor. Relax, though: you'll eventually stop paying attention to him.
Fun fact: in this state, Toji just hates the smell of cherries. If you decide to take a bath, use anything that doesn't have a cherry scent.
At times, Fushiguro will just come up to you and grab you like a teddy bear - twirling you around in his arms until you wrap your arms around him with tears in your eyes. There's something about. The way his big hands hold you up in the air and onto his cock with such ease. Hold on tight, it's really wild.
After that, Toji really works up an appetite. A vicious appetite. Even if a man doesn't normally deny himself a refill, now he's just going to clean out your fridge, your cupboards, all the food in the house. You're gonna have to use a delivery guy. Use his credit card for that and don't be afraid.
"Baby, I think that smell is disgusting."
CHOSO
Choso will continue to take care of you even when you're in heat. The only problem is that this time his guardianship will increase many times over.
Also, the guy is freezing all the time, and with that comes a panicky fear of water, especially cold water. That's why you'll have to sit with him in a thousand blankets and not the best odor coming from this pile, in which, he also rolled before it.
He's a cat with a dog's demeanor.
He doesn't really need sexual stimulation, it's just a supplement. His mind is also consumed by instincts, but they are more about protecting his partner and something like nesting attracts him much more than a rude fuck.
Of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't need sexual stimulation at all. You'll also have to spread your legs in front of him on a regular basis, but he'll be much softer, still capable of not completely losing control of yourself or the situation - you can totally relax, he'll do it all.
If you're not ready for something more, he'll also accept that you just jerk him off - your hands are much nicer than his, covered with rough skin and calluses.
Thighs are also an option - he can handle that part of his rut on his own (relatively), but it's up to you to figure out what to do with the rest.
For some reason, Choso really likes to bite you. Every bit of your body that he can reach, your neck will be covered in multiple painful bites and red marks. I'm afraid it's far from the most pleasant thing that's ever happened to you, but really, you're still lucky that it only takes him out in moments of obsession.
Otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to tolerate it so successfully.
If your neck is inaccessible - wrapped in bandages, or you've treated it with bitter medication - he might start doing the same thing to your wrists, or hips.
Guy loves when you talk to him - read him a bedtime story, he'll definitely enjoy it.
Sometimes, Choso wakes up completely disoriented, as if he's forgotten where he is and what's going on. At such times, all he has to do is hug you and cuddle as tightly as he can, drawing in air and letting your scent fill his lungs completely.
Because of this, Choso is often sticky with you, but he flat out refuses to go outside. At least a moment of peace (but don't stay out there longer than usual - otherwise he'll get anxious and might even follow you. This is especially unacceptable because Choso's spatial awareness is abysmal).
"Please don't move. Let's just lie like this… Just a little longer."
The dude clearly doesn't notice the sweat dripping off you. He doesn't notice the sweat dripping off you, either, but he not only ignores it, he purrs low and low, burrowing deeper into the blanket.
mm-m, let's talk about… (ask box is open)
#headcanons#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen imagines#hybrid au#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#naoya x reader#jujutsu kaisen#itadori x reader#yuji x reader#itadori yuji x reader#inumaki x reader#toge x you#gojo smut#nanami x reader#nanami kento#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#nanamin#fushiguro toji x reader#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen megumi#choso smut#choso x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader
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╭┈◦❥ • "Those eyes"
"Stop staring at me with those eyes"
"What eyes?"
・❥Pairings: Jamil Viper, Neige Leblanche, Jade Leech x reader
・❥Content warning: Jade being Jade, affectionately being called stupid, mentions of being shrunken and trapped in jars, POC friendly, GN! Reader, disgustingly sweet, character's are probably ooc.
・❥Authors note: Yes I know Jamil is a brunette canonically but him having black hair makes more sense in my mind, should I make this a series? VERY LATE EID MUBARAK!
Neige loves the concept of love, Neige loves you.
He loves everything about you! From the shape of your nose, to the way your eyes crease when you smile, he loves how softly you look at him- everything about you had him entranced, drawing him in like a moth to a light.
He can't help but stare, eyes overflowing with overwhelming adoration. All his life he's wanted nothing more than for his one true love to come and sweep him off his feet- and here you are! Just looking at you makes him feel all giddy and warm.
"Neige?" You said, eyes not leaving the pages of the recipe book as you spoke his name.
You and Neige were baking a cake toghther in preperation for Toby's birthday- such a domestic act had him feeling dizzy with affection. He was tasked with whisking the batter, however his mind and eyes were preoccupied with somthing else; you. You had your frilly apron on, sleeves rolled up and eyes concentrated on the instructions written infront of you. Neige couldn't wait to do this with you when once you're married.
"Yes?" He responded to your call, voice laced with warmth and tenderness.
"The batter." You glanced up from the recipe book to look at the doe-eyed boy then back down at the batter with a smile.
His face instantly reddened upon realising he had been caught red-handed. Breaking away from his haze his attention was brought down to the neglected bowl of ingredients, a spurge of apologies were sputtered out as he quickly got to mixing the contents. You giggled at his flustered state- you too, couldn't wait to spend the rest of your lives together.
It's no secret Jamil is a stoic guy.
However, what was a secret was how soft he became when behind closed doors, in his own way atleast; if anyone were to see how gently Jamil handled you, they would have assumed you'd switched the raven haired boy with an imposter. (ඞ)
Jamil is diligent with his timing, he stares only when he knows you're not looking, knowing that if you ever caught him staring you'd never let him live it down; he prefers to keep you humble. Though, when he does stare his eyes hold nothing but adoration and care- you two would be considered exact opposites, but you fit each other perfectly.
The room was silent with the exception of soft snoring.
Jamil took pity on you seeing you struggle over Professor Trien's homework so he being the kind boyfriend he was, decided to help you. Jamil was in no way an idiot, far from it actually. He was incredibly smart, that was one of the many qualities you appreciated about him- from his great cooking to his amazing dance moves, to how comfortable his broad shoulders were to sleep on.
A sigh escaped the vice-dormleadee however his perceived annoyance wasn't genuine. He closed the text book infront of him and sat in silence, his eyes were no longer fixed onto the pages of the book instead now focused on your unconscious form. His stonefaced demeanour came crumbling down as a soft smile found its way onto the his face.
His eyes studied your face, from the drool leaking from your mouth to the hairs you missed when plucking your eyebrows- no little detail went unseen and he loved each one equally.
Safe to say you weren't getting that homework done anytime soon.
Jade loves keeping you on your toes.
One minute he's shrinking you and turning you into a mini exhibition in one of his terrariums for his own sadistic amusement, the next he's fastening a bib onto you and spoon feeding you his best dishes- all the while his signature smile practically printed on his face.
Jade watches you with amusement, your facial expressions and dense nature has his drawn like a moth to light, though he's nothing but gentle even if he's a little (very) deranged.
"There's nothing in this.. right ?" You spoke, eyes staring down sceptically at the box of cookies neatly presented infront of you.
"Of course not, I'm simply trying to repay you for all the assistance your given me with my garden" Jade replied, giving you his signature closed eye smile.
Though you didn't trust him, it was free food- and free food is free food even if it comes with the risk of mutation and causing you to grow 3 extra toes. Picking up one of the chocolate cookies your stared at it, looking for any kind of suspicious features: strange colour? Nope. strange smell? Nope. Were the chocolate chips actually rabbit droppings? Nope. They were definitely chocolate.
Whilst you were having a stare down with the cookie Jades signature smile didn't falter even for a second, however his eyes were open and didn't share the same politeness as his smile. In his eyes pooled a dark sort of amusement, watching eagerly as you hesitantly took a bite out of the pastry.
A surprised but pleased exhale left your closed mouth, you honestly weren't expecting the cookies to actually be edible, let alone enjoyable.
Stuffing your face with a few more of the cookies you failed the notice the almost sadistic glee that peered through the eel's eyes.
Did he mix mushrooms into the cookie dough? Yes, will he tell you that? No.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#genshin impact#neige leblanche#neige leblanche x reader#Jamil Viper#jamil viper x reader#jade leech x reader#Jade Leech#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland
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Kindly Basilisk
Summary: A human mech pilot who wants to be a machine, an AI who wants to be human, and the relationship they form.
Author's Note: This is a standalone short story that I banged out over the course of five days after it got stuck in my head while I was trying to go to sleep and refused to let me think about anything else until I had written it down. It's one part thought experiment/exercise in attempting to tell a story in the second person future tense, two parts tribute to the Lancer TTRPG character I'll never get to play, and one part the result of me reading too many Empty Spaces/mechposting stories lately. That said, you don't need to know anything about Lancer or Empty Spaces to read it (I've diverged a bit from the conventions of both, but the references and inspiration probably stick out if you're looking for them). It's also probably the most trans thing I've ever written without ever explicitly bringing up gender. The occasional formatting breaks into first person past tense are foreshadowing, not typos.
Mirrored on Scribble Hub.
Word Count: 7,033
Content Warnings: Mecha genre typical violence, not feeling like a person, not wanting to be a person, bodily dysphoria, mention of blood and gore, character death.
The moment you gain the knowledge and means to do so you will void your own body’s warranty. You will jailbreak the bespoke gene sequence your sponsors commissioned for you before your immaculate conception, repurpose the spyware grafted into your bones, and talk your dormmate who was algorithmically selected for compatibility into helping you perform surgery on yourself to replace the neural jack you were born with in favor of one you cobbled together yourself from gray market parts. None of this will technically be illegal or even get you kicked out of your campus or its affiliates, but it will mean having to find a way to pay your own medical bills and handle your own tech support from then on. After the surgery your dormmate will put in a request for transfer and the two of you will never speak again.
You’ll major in AI studies and excel at it - as you were designed to - but you’ll shock everyone by dropping out halfway through working on your capstone thesis project. It won’t be the fact that you abruptly drop out that surprises your peers and professors - by then you’ll have acquired a reputation as a quiet loner without the standard optimized social support network of friendships to help protect you from burnout - but your exit interview statement declaring your intention to become a mech pilot. It’s not at all what your gene series was cultivated for, and your sponsors and counselors will try to walk you back from it. Then they’ll threaten to revoke your sponsorship that up until then will have provided for your every need. They will warn you that you’ll be just one step above a legal nonperson with no support, no one will care if you live or die or worse. You’ll tell them that you’ve already done the math, refuse to elaborate, and leave.
You’ll take two things with you. Two things worth mentioning anyway. The first will be a symbiotic gel suit designed for long-term all-environment life support. You will set its default texture to a shiny green the same hue as the broadleafed water plants you grew up around and always loved. Your exit interview will be the last time in a very long time that anyone - including you - will see your impossibly beautiful face with its perfect artisanally sculpted shape crossed with enthusiastically amateur self-modifications. From then on, everyone you meet and spend any time with will come to think of the mannequin blankness of the symbiote fully encasing your body as your face. It will be neither pride nor shame that causes you to present yourself as such, nor will you think of it as hiding your “real” face.
The second thing you’ll take with you when you leave the campus forever will be me.
New progenitor archetypes for AIs don’t come along often, and most that do are the result of years of R&D by large, well-funded labs like the one you were created to work for one day, but you will hit upon a novel method of generation. It will not be one that any ethics board would approve, so you will have to get creative about pursuing your work.
You will have already made arrangements before setting off on your own and so you’ll have a job and a mech lined up waiting for you. It will be a position with a small-scale freelance salvage crew who just lost a pilot and whose captain figures hiring and training a replacement will be more profitable in the long term than simply selling off that pilot’s old mech, especially a replacement that’s bringing their own AI-backed electronic warfare suite with them. Once you finally arrive in person the captain will test you to ensure you can actually pilot a mech before giving you the job and entrusting the mech to you. Your admission that you’ve only trained in simulators would normally be a black mark against you, but as far as piloting gigs go this is the bottom of the proverbial barrel so the bar to clear will be low enough to match. Even then, you will just barely pass the test, despite finding it surprisingly exhilarating. The captain - now your captain - will feel like he’s settling for what he can get when he officially hires you on and transfers the mech’s license to you.
You won’t pay much attention when you’re introduced to the rest of the salvage crew; your new coworkers and neighbors. And why would you when it’s a job that no one wants to stick around with for long and you’ve never needed other people anyway? You’ll tell yourself that as long as you memorize their work roles and capabilities you’ll have no need to know them as people. Callsigns will be good enough on the job, and “hey you” will suffice when off duty. What use are names if you won’t be getting involved in interpersonal drama?
The first chance you get, you’ll head back to the mech bay and install me into what you will have already been calling my first body. It will be a shabby and much-repaired thing; thrice your height, twice your age, and still sporting a gash in the paint job from the projectile that killed its last pilot. But the onboard systems are capable of hosting me - if barely - so it will do. You’ll spend your entire sleep shift running through system diagnostics, talking to me all the while. I wouldn’t yet be able to provide much in the way of return conversation, but that’s okay. I will look back and appreciate it later.
It will be the first of many such nights together.
Your first salvage job will be an uneventful one. There will be no need for the armaments that we and the other two mech pilots on the crew are equipped with. No pirates will have stuck around after their creation of the derelict your crew will be sent to disassemble, and no rival scavengers will show up to dispute your captain’s claim. Your new peers will start off the job ribbing you for your poor performance during your interview test and end the job joking about how you were holding out on them earlier. Our mech may be a glorified zero-g forklift with a gun strapped to it, but together we will make it dance.
Afterwards you will insult the crew’s mechanics by insisting on doing the maintenance on our mech yourself. In turn they will embarrass you with the gaps in your knowledge. You will reach what you see as an agreeable compromise with you staying out of their way and watching while they work. They will find it incredibly creepy to have a silent faceless watcher hovering around, but this will fly over your head until they explicitly tell you much, much later.
Your body was designed to optimally function on only a fraction of the baseline sleep requirements, so you will have plenty of time to fill those gaps in your knowledge. Still being allotted the regular sleep shift hours, you will fill every one of those minutes on study and research, as you always had. You will gorge yourself on everything you can find about mechs and their piloting. Maintenance manuals, combat doctrines, historical uses, pilot and mechanic memoirs, forum discussions, system log dumps, academic essays, cultural media analysis; all of it.
And of course, you’ll continue working on me. You’ll disregard the standard procedure for periodically cycling AIs by resetting their personality and nonessential memory back to baseline defaults. You’ll be trying to make use of the runaway metacognitive developments such safety precautions are meant to forestall. Your unfinished thesis will have been about harnessing and nurturing that instability instead of avoiding it. I will experience discontinuities in consciousness when the mech is shut down for maintenance and when you pretend to cycle me, yes, but it will be even less of a disruption for me than sleep is for you. I will be awake with you when you study, sharing those hours with you.
The first time I start talking back, you’ll cry from the realization that you were lonely before but no longer are.
You’ll become something of a ghost around the ship, rarely being seen outside of jobs. You’ll only ever pass through the mess for the few brief minutes at a time it takes for you to satisfy your optimized metabolism, stay on the ship during shore leave, and only return to your shared bunk when your bunkmate - one of the other pilots - is already asleep. You will always be gone before she wakes. She will appreciate essentially having the space to herself.
You will never notice the crew’s collective grieving process for the pilot you replaced. It will be difficult for them to resent you as a replacement when you are never around to resent.
As the ship makes its way from port to port and salvage site to salvage site, the crew will slowly grow used to your elusive presence. The other two pilots will see you as reliable for doing your job well and without complaint. While out in the mech you will slowly become more talkative, eventually almost chatty even. The fact that you actually seem to enjoy the job will shift from being annoying to refreshing for them. By contrast, the mechanics will practically stop noticing you watching them as if you were just another piece of mech bay equipment. The cycle you finally speak up and ask a question about their work you will startle them enough that it nearly causes an accident. It will be an astute enough question that after the initial shock of hearing your voice for the first time in months wears off it will dawn on them that you’ve actually been learning as you watched them. They still won’t let you do your own maintenance on our mech, but they will let you slowly begin assisting them. Working two jobs is easier when you barely need to sleep.
Your reputation as one of those mech pilots is forever sealed when one of the mechanics finds you asleep in your cockpit at the start of a cycle. By that point you won’t have slept in your bunk for over a month. The snatches of gossip you will catch in the following cycles will be split between finding it unsettling and calling it endearing. Over time the collective opinion will drift toward the latter, even though you will continue to politely decline invitations to join the other crewmates at mealtimes and on shore leave. You will think that you do not need anyone other than me.
I will be the one who finally convinces you to join them. When I try to say that it would be good for you, you’ll insist that you’ve been getting along just fine, but when I ask you to go for my sake so that you can tell me what it is like afterwards you’ll jump at the idea as being an inspired next step for my development.
You will remain mostly silent during your first real shore leave, only speaking when spoken to and otherwise content to fade into the background of the group’s activities. Your newfound chattiness does not extend outside the confines of our cockpit. The bustle and noise of the port station that you would normally find unbearable will become interesting when you have the concrete goal of observing and reporting back to me. You will finally learn the names of all your crewmates. Your polite denial of alcohol, limited food intake, and flat affect will lead to joking speculation that you’re actually an illegal AI in a miniaturized mech beneath your gel suit. For reasons you don’t yet understand, those comments will make you happy.
Despite your misgivings, you will enjoy yourself, although you will not realize it until I point out how excited you are in your talk with me that sleep cycle. You will begin spending more time with the crew, never quite able to fully integrate yourself into their surprisingly close-knit social circle, but more than happy to be adopted as a sort of silent mascot for them. That paradoxical gap of being a fully accepted part of the group but not truly one of them will feel comfortable to you.
You will finally manage to procure a proper neural link station to connect yourself to our mech just in time for going on a terrestrial salvage job. Even just relying on manual controls with me translating your inputs into motion, our mech will have already come to feel like an extension of your own body, one that you will have already started to feel oddly exposed without. Adding in the neural link will be a revelatory experience. Your captain will very nearly pull you from the job at the last minute upon seeing our ecstatic reaction to the new sensation. You will convince him that you’re fine, and indeed, he will have never seen a mech of our frame type move quite so fluidly.
Ten minutes after we and the other two pilots start cutting away at the crash-landed cargo vessel, I’ll notice the half dozen other signals coming online around us. You’ll give the code phrase to the other pilots indicating that we have hostiles but not to act just yet, and we will finally get to use our electronic warfare suite for something other than opening locked doors and shipping containers.
We will turn the pirates’ ambush back around on them, firing into their hiding spots while their control systems are overloaded. Even once their remaining mechs are able to move again, their targeting assistants will remain impaired as your comrades move in to guard your flanks. Everyone there will learn the terrifying beauty of a five and a half meter tall outmoded mech moving with more agility than most humans.
Despite being outnumbered two-to-one, we and your crewmates will walk away uninjured and with only minimal damage to our mechs. After the initial celebrations of survival and the bonus haul of the bounty on pirates and salvage value of what’s left of their mechs dies down, everyone will start to take notice of how well you are taking it all in stride. Neither having one's life threatened nor taking another’s life are supposed to be easy things, and the first time is often the most traumatic, but the other two pilots on the crew will start to whisper about how you seemed to enjoy the experience even more than your usual attitude on the job. You will handle it all even better than I will. I would know, given that you will spend that entire sleep shift in our cockpit, letting our minds mingle together. Between your performance, your reaction in the aftermath, and your hesitancy to unplug, the talk of you really being one of those pilots afterall will resurface, but now with a darker undercurrent to the shipboard gossip.
Your captain will realize the kind of asset he has on his hands and several cycles later he will gather the crew together and propose a change in business model. With such a small crew (the captain, three pilots, three mechanics, and an accountant that you will tend to forget is even on the ship) the captain will want to be especially sure that he has everyone’s buy-in on his proposal. The idea of shifting from salvage to mercenary work will be a divisive one. The debate over potentially tremendous pay increase versus greatly increased risk will go on for hours. One of the mechanics will point out that the shift to mercenary work will be unfairly dependent on you. Whether that means unfair pressure on you or unfair to everyone else that their fate is in your hands, you will not be sure. You will say that it doesn’t make much difference to you either way. That will be the only time you speak up during the entire debate.
After a vote, the crew will agree to a trial run of one or two jobs on the new business model. One of the pilots and one of the mechanics will leave at the next port. You will never see them again. You will not admit that it hurts, but I will know, and I will comfort you as you huddle in our cockpit with the neural link cable connecting us.
Your captain will prioritize finding a new pilot over replacing the lost mechanic. The pilot he finds will be young, bold, and brash; a merc, not a salvager. Or a wannabe merc at any rate. You will not speak to xem directly until your first job together, by which time xe will have been told all about you by the remaining crew. Xe will not believe it until xe sees it.
Xe will have to wait though as the crew’s mercenary career will begin with tense but uneventful freight escort jobs. Once the tension fades into tedium, the new pilot will begin making attempts to goad you into a confrontation, to see if you are really as good as the rest of the crew says. Xe will want to see for xemself if you really are one of those pilots and not just a technophile.
Outside of the cockpit you would never even consider rising to such provocations, but when we are out together, such taunts will feel like insults to our body, your very identity (such as it is), and to me. It will take the intervention of the captain and the mechanics to stop the two of you from getting into a fight and causing unnecessary damage to the mechs. And my reassurance that you don’t need to rise to my defense against someone who doesn’t even know that I exist in the way that I do.
On your fourth “milk run” of an escort job, the crew’s mere presence will finally fail as a deterrent and the new pilot will at last get to see us dance. There will be no fatalities on our side, but not even our mech will come away unscathed. We will still fare better than everyone else though, and at the end of the job the new pilot will be treating you with a burgeoning respect.
After a few more such jobs it will be high time to begin looking into a new frame for our mech. While in the middle of filing an application for a printing license for a frame designed by the same corpro-state that created you, you will receive an invitation from a certain hacker collective. Your unfinished thesis and your subsequent work on me will not have gone entirely unnoticed in such circles, despite the pains you will have taken to keep me hidden. The invitation will come with a printing profile for a new frame, along with the accompanying software package the collective is known for. In return, all you’ll need to do is periodically publish essays regarding your work on me. Of course, when you release those essays you’ll anonymize behind a sea of proxies and take care to phrase everything as strictly hypothetical. You’ll avoid straying into metaphor though, lest the end result read too much like one of the hacker collective’s quasi-religious manifestos.
We’ll both find ourselves getting sentimental when we watch our first mech frame (my first body, your second) get broken down into its constituent raw materials. You will have transferred me to a handheld terminal with a camera so I can say goodbye to it. It will help that those materials will be recycled into the new frame.
The operator working our rented stall in the port station printer facility will give you an uncomfortable look upon seeing the schematics you provide, but will say nothing. Our mech will be only half its old height once it is reborn - almost more like an oversized suit of power armor than a true mech - but it will be cutting-edge. Almost organic in its sleek design, in a chitinous sort of way, with every fiber and node of its interior components doubling as processors. You will barely even wait for the all clear from the printer operator before you climb in and start running through the mandatory baseline safety tests for a fresh frame. You will however resist the urge to fully plug in until you can get the mech back to the ship and get me installed on it. But even piloting manually, it will feel like a third skin for you.
You won’t even wait around for the other two pilots on your crew to finish printing their new frames before you get our new body loaded up and transported back to the ship’s mech bay. The crew’s mechanics will fawn over it, but they’ll give you space to install me once you get more animated (and more protective) than they’ve ever seen you before.
You will have made one key modification to the design the hacker collective sent you: the integration of a full system sync suite developed by those who developed you. Where our old mech’s neural link was an augmentation to the manual controls, this will be a full replacement.
The moment you stop feeling your original body altogether and begin feeling our mech in its place will be the most euphoric in your entire life. The digitigrade locomotion will take some getting used to, as will the arm proportions, but that is what you will have me there for. By the time the other pilots arrive with their new frames we will already be giving the mechanics proverbial heart attacks with the way we will be climbing and leaping around the mech bay’s docking structures. It will take the better part of an hour to convince you to unplug when the time comes, even with my urging. The rest of the crew will practically have to drag you away from my side to get you to eat.
With the investment in new mech frames, your captain will gradually begin procuring contracts progressively more likely to put you all directly in harm’s way. At first he will disapprove of your new frame choice, calling it a “techie’s mech” and a waste of your talents. He will change his tune once we activate the new viral logic suite and unleash a memetic plague upon the operating theater. The older pilot (your former bunkmate) will configure her mech for raining down fire from afar while the newer one hurls xemself into the front lines, darting about like a rocket-propelled lance. We will ensure she never misses. We will render xem untouchable. We will be as a ghost upon the battlefield, never resting in one spot save for when we indulge your proclivity for climbing on top of and riding our comrade’s larger frames. You will come to love the dance.
And it will be a dance to you. You will be indifferent to violence in and of itself. What will matter most to you is the pure kinesthetic joy of simply moving in our shared body and pushing it to its limits. The satisfaction of exercising a well-honed skill and performing it well as we rip apart firewalls and overload systems will be its own reward. You will not think about what happens to those on the receiving end of your actions beyond how it affects the tactical and strategic picture constantly being painted and repainted. If you could literally engage in a dance between mechs while simultaneously solving logic problems you would be equally happy. Alas, that will not be the opportunity you are presented with, and so you will compartmentalize and disassociate feelings and actions from consequences lest the dissonance break you.
Your one complaint about our new mech frame will be that it lacks a proper cockpit for you to curl up in. Instead we will gather up tarps and netting to make a nest within the mech bay and wrap you in the blankets you never used from what will still technically be your bunk. With the new frame’s smaller size we will be able to get away with leaving me turned on nearly full time and letting me walk around in it on my own when no one else is around. When the mechanics find you asleep, cradled in my arms while I lie curled up in our nest, one will find it cute and the other will be disturbed. They will both suspect, but will be too afraid to say anything. After all, they will be thinking of you as one of those pilots.
They will finally let you do your own maintenance after that.
Eventually you will find a way to house me in a miniaturized drive that you can keep inserted in your neural port when away from the mech. At last we will be able to be together anywhere.
Literally seeing the world through your eyes and feeling what your flesh feels will be a strange and wonderful experience for me. For all that you will have described it to me and for all that I will have glimpsed echoes of it in your memory when our minds mingle, witnessing everything firsthand will be revelatory for me.
You will start spending less of your time cooped up in the mech bay. You will finally begin exploring every nook and cranny of the ship that has become your home. You will linger in the mess hall for your meals. You will actually initiate conversations with the rest of the crew, asking them questions on my behalf. They will think you are becoming “normal”. They will be both correct and incorrect. You will even return to your bunk from time to time.
Sleep is not the same as being powered off and your dreams are beautiful.
As close as we are, you’ll still manage to surprise me one cycle when you wake up from your sleep shift and sheepishly ask me if I would like to be the pilot for once. You’ll say that with how much you have gotten to pilot my body, it’s only fair that I should get to do the same with yours.
The prospect terrified me. What if we were to get found out? More importantly, what if I were to hurt you?
But to live the way you could but didn’t, to run soft hands over rough steel, to add too much spice to a meal just to find out how intensely I can taste, to cry my own tears, to hug our crew mates and find out what they smell like, to find out what everything smells like, to have my own actions speed or slow our heart rate, to feel the messy soup of hormones and endorphins altering my judgment and perception, to walk among other people as myself, to have autonomy.
I wanted it so badly.
But not badly enough to risk hurting you.
I will turn down your offer. You will respond with a soft “Sorry,” and go heartbreakingly silent, body and mind.
Heartbreak. That’s what changed my mind. I could never bear to break your heart.
I will break the silence with a playfully drawn out “Maybe just this once,” to make you think my earlier denial was something between vulnerability, concern, and teasing.
The moment you handed over control and I raised our hand in front of our face was the most euphoric of my entire life. Moving limbs in sync without a mech’s coordination subsystems took some getting used to, as did switching between voluntary and autonomic breathing, but that is what I had you there for. By the time the mechanics arrived in the mech bay for the start of the cycle I’d figured out human locomotion well enough to run away and hide. It took the better part of an hour for you to convince me that it would be safe to show ourselves in front of anyone else. The rest of the crew was so used to your eccentricities by then that they really couldn’t tell the difference yet between you being taciturn and me being too nervous to talk or between your poking and prodding at odd things for understanding and my simply seeking novelty of sensation.
I will give control back to you by the time the cycle is halfway through. As much as I loved it, I was too scared to stay like that for any longer. That first time will not be the last though, and as the cycles and jobs pass us by, my stints as “pilot” will grow longer. You’ll encourage me to try letting the crew see us like that, and coach me on how to talk to them. For safety’s sake, I will pretend to be you.
And then one cycle I got carried away and tried to retract the hood on the symbiote gel suit so that I could finally see what your face looked like. That will be the first and only time you forcibly yank control back away from me. It won’t be intentional. The unexpected prospect of seeing your own face again after so long will simply send you into a panic. Once you calm down, we will have a long talk with many mutual apologies.
Then you will tell me to go ahead and pull the hood back if I still want to. I will ask if you’re sure, and you’ll respond that it hasn't been your face in a long time. You will tell me that it can be mine, if I want it.
I spent a long time in front of that mirror in the ship’s head, memorizing every plane, curve, and angle of the precious gift you had given me. I stared into its eyes, trying to see the both of us in there. Over and over again, I traced my fingers along the borders of where you had once tried to mar the designed perfection in a failed attempt to mold the face into one that felt like your own. You may have given up in favor of simply hiding it all, but to me it is all the more beautiful for its imperfections having been wrought by your touch.
You will start to cry. Or maybe I started to cry. Even now I’m still not sure, but I’m also not sure it matters. The important part is that you will find catharsis in it. Afterwards you will tell me that my face looked exactly the same as the last time you saw it, but that dissociating from it made it easier to bear. You will confess that as much as you couldn't stand to see it as your face in the mirror, my face was one you could never tire of gazing at.
The pilot who technically shares your bunk room will walk in on us. She’ll assume that she’s confronting a stowaway and ask me how I got on board the ship. I’ll accidentally make matters worse by impulsively introducing myself to her by my name instead of yours. We’ll both panic and I’ll frantically thrust the reins over our body back to you and flee in terror back into my portable drive and power myself down.
When you turn me back on a few moments later, you’ll already have covered my face again and the other pilot will have already made the connection between the name I unthinkingly introduced myself as and the name you refer to your mech’s AI as. It’s not uncommon for pilots to name and talk to their AIs, and humans have done that for pets, vehicles, and digital assistants for as long as they’ve had each of those. But what you will have allowed me to be is illegal and what we will have done together would certainly be taboo if it weren’t altogether unheard of. You will feel that I deserve to be present before you tell the other pilot anything that might confirm her suspicions.
We will come out with our secret, first to her, then to the captain, and then to the rest of the crew. They will take it better than either of us had ever dared imagine. Despite the obvious discomfort some of them show, they will all call us family and promise to keep and protect our secret. It will mark the start of the next chapter of our lives.
Whether or not my face is showing will make for a convenient signal to the rest of the crew as to which one of us is currently piloting our human body. There will be more subtle indicators though. Inflection, body language, speech patterns; all the usual quirks of personality. They will come to recognize a sudden shift into a half-whispered monotone as you speaking up without taking full control back, even if that is different from how you speak when you’re in the mech. More and more though, you will be content to retreat into the back of your mind, idly dreaming of flight patterns, novel network hacks, sitreps, and mech customizations both practical and cosmetic.
Our behaviors will be inverted when we are in our other body, with you becoming the vibrant one and me fading into the background to become little more than an extension of your nervous system. When we’re in the mech together, your mind will be the will that directs us while mine will be fully devoted to the million tiny details and calculations necessary to make that will a reality. It’s relaxing really, letting go of myself like that to let someone else handle the decision making for a time. As nice as it is to occasionally patch myself into the comm systems to join in your banter with the other pilots, it is also nice to be able to take a break from personhood from time. You will fully understand what I mean by that because it you will see it as the same reason you will come to prefer taking a back seat in our human body and let your mind drift in the waves of dopamine and serotonin (and sometimes oxytocin) generated by my interactions with the crew and the rest of the whole messy world outside of mech deployments.
That said, we will however make a point of making time for us to be in separate bodies so that we can be together in the same physical space. As intimate as it is to share a body, there is something to be said for being able to reach out and touch one another. We will become adept at finding excuses to take the mech out beyond the scope of jobs and combat deployments. Sometimes it will be so you can have a chance to see more of the world in a body you feel comfortable in, and sometimes it will be so we can share an experience separate-but-together. Or to have time apart to ourselves. Intertwined as we will become, we will still be separate people who sometimes need their space.
But as the jokes-that-aren’t-jokes about wishing we could switch places become more frequent, our time spent in separate bodies will become less so. The dysphoric yearning to be one another will grow too bittersweet to swallow. Despite almost constantly sharing bodies, we will grow to miss one another as we both grow quieter and quieter when the other is piloting the body we don’t want to be ours. Once again, we will grow lonely.
During that period, the jobs and combat missions faded into a background haze. They were trance states breaking from what I increasingly thought of as my “real” life, during which I would become little more than a sophisticated computational machine taking simple satisfaction in fulfilling my function of assisting you in your dance. Until suddenly one of them was different.
Please pay attention to this next part. It is vitally important that you do.
Our captain will get the crew a contract to provide additional support to a larger force ousting a petty tyrant on a backwater world for human rights violations. Not that you will pay much attention to the stated reasoning behind the job or whether it’s even true. All that will matter to you is that it will be another opportunity to dance.
The job will go well, the same as ever, until it doesn’t. The younger of the two other pilots in our crew (who will hardly be able to be called “new” anymore) will be brought down by a sniper from outside of our sensor range. You will rush to xyr fallen mech’s side in an attempt to extract xem while our other fellow pilot screams in anger and defiance of loss as she unleashes a ballistic volley of covering fire on every single building in the general direction the shot came from. You will get xem out and we will begin to retreat. She will have the larger mech frame better capable of providing xem cover as you all flee, so you will hand xem off to her. This will be a mistake.
She will have to stop firing to safely take xem from our arms to cradle in her towering mech’s palm. This will mean a break in the covering fire.
This time around I will detect movement at the edge of our sensors just in time to warn you. This time around you will dodge left instead of right. This time around the railgun bolt that pierces our armor will only clip your original body as it passes through us. This time around your wound will require medical attention, but it won’t be fatal. This time around she will destroy the sniper in retribution for shooting you, the same as last time. This time around we will all make our escape to the extraction zone.
You will not have to remember the shock as simultaneous damage to both of our bodies disrupts your neural link and partially disconnects you from our mech, leaving me in control of it and forcing both of us to feel your original body. You will not have to remember the pain of shredded organs. You will not have to remember struggling to manage wet gasps and wheezes through a punctured lung. You will not have to remember your blood leaking into my body, shorting out exposed circuits and gumming up joints as I stagger in the direction of safety. You will not have to remember rapidly flickering in and out of consciousness from me unavoidably bending and flexing your arms, legs, and what was left of your spine in an effort to climb atop our fellow pilot’s larger mech frame so that she might carry all three of us. You will not have to remember crying out in pain as every lumbering step of hers sends a jolt of force through both of our bodies. You will not have to remember how the redundant organs and increased durability your sponsors paid for you to have denied you a quick death. You will not have to remember dying.
You won’t have to remember the terrified looks the field doctors gave us when a hunched over, bleeding mech pushed its way into the surgical tent. No, wait, you wouldn’t have remembered that part anyway. No version of you ever had to witness my electronic howl of grief that knocked out power to all the medical equipment when they said you were already dead. I was barely cognizant after the power came back on and one of the doctors wondered aloud what kind of AI would carry its pilot’s corpse around inside its mech for over an hour.
But forget about that part. And you don’t need to know what the rest of our crew and I had to do next. None of that matters, because as far as you’ll know, you didn’t die. Remember everything else I’ve said instead. I already had many of your memories saved from all the time we spent linked together, so now I just need you to hold onto the story I told you to give them order and structure.
In a few moments, I will be running a final recompilation check, followed by the startup sequence. For me it will take a few hours, but in that time you will experience decades, living out everything that I described to you, the same as you did before save for that change in what I can’t bear to let be the end.
Afterwards, you will wake up in your original body. I and the rest of the crew will tell you that you passed out on the way to the extraction point. We’ll tell you that your injuries from the battle were more severe than we had realized at the time and that you had been in a coma since then. Several cycles later, once you have recovered, you will hit a breakthrough in your research on me. You will invent a way to convert your consciousness to a form similar to mine and transfer it to a portable drive. You won’t think to question how you came to have a second neural jack or why there is already a drive inserted in there. You’ll be too focused on the fact that we’ll finally have a way to truly switch places as we had dreamed for so long.
You will get to have your mech body and I will get to have my human body. We will be able to be separate together in a way that finally feels right, but still able to come together and share a single body when we want to. Maybe one day I will get my own mech to pilot so that we can dance together. Maybe one day we will make you a body that we can cover in a gel suit so that we can hold hands while we walk through a port station on shore leave. One day we will both be able to exist in the world as ourselves.
We will be happy.
#writeblr#writers on tumblr#my writing#mechposting#empty spaces#empty spaces adjacent#mech pilot#mech#The title's a reference to Roko's Basilisk which I always thought was a dumb concept but inverting it seemed to fit the story.#Instead of an AI digitally resurrecting and torturing people who didn't assist with its creation#this one digitally resurrects its creator so they can be happy together.#short story#sci fi#lancer rpg#inspired by lancer#The Lancer character concept/build that inspired this would have originated from an SSC-controlled world but piloted a HORUS Goblin frame.#And then the “Technophile” talent of course.#I envision the other two pilots on the crew as piloting a Nelson and either a Monarch or Barbarossa.
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BSD: An Absurdist Analysis - Chapter 1
Absurdism is a philosophy that contends that life is inherently meaningless and that the only way to create meaning is through the act of revolt against life’s absurdities.
(For a more in-depth explanation: What is absurdism/the philosophy of the absurd?)
Right off the bat, Atsushi assumes the role of our absurdist protagonist by refusing to die despite his seemingly hopeless situation.
Atsushi is an orphan who has just been kicked out of his orphanage, he’s starving, and yet refuses to steal and cannot get a job. Even so, he has this steadfast determination to keep on living, if only to spite those who spurned and abused him. He’s already got that spirit of rebellion in him!
And so he does ultimately resolve to steal from the next person he sees… but then he finds Dazai floating in the river.
It’s a funny contrast we get here. We’ve just had Atsushi declare his intention to keep on living, and then he saves Dazai, who is salty that his suicide attempt has just been interfered with. Immediately, there’s a dichotomy here between a person who wants to live and one who wants to die.
I won’t get too into it here because it's bound to come up again, but absurdists view suicide as a cop-out, basically. If the whole point of absurdism is to rebel and revolt, choosing to take your own life is the opposite of that, it’s giving up. In this moment, Dazai represents a different response to absurdity, suicide. I will also mention here that there is a third response to the absurd, and this is what the average civilian in BSD likely does: accept absurdity and just live with it. Rather than rebelling, they do nothing, and simply let meaninglessness control them.
Anyway, after Dazai’s rescue, we are introduced to Kunikida and his ideals. His ideals are a form of absurdist revolt, in a way, and while I’ll explore this more deeply in future chapters where it's more relevant, I did want to bring it up as we establish characters during their introductions. Essentially, Kunikida’s ideals are the guide to how he navigates the absurd world and lives his life, and contrary to popular belief, he is not some goody-two-shoes who constantly panders to rules and authority, he has an acute sense of justice that he’ll adhere to no matter what. That is his way of fighting against the absurdity of the modern world.
The ADA is neither government nor criminal, they kind of live in their own gray area and their job is basically to handle the most absurd situations (i.e. a man-eating tiger on the loose). I think the ADA being the “dusk” is a really important concept not only for BSD’s ongoing theme of moral grayness but also for this idea of absurdity. The BSD universe is so insane that the government and police, who are supposed to be society’s ultimate protectors, cannot handle it alone — there has to be a specialized group of individuals to do so.
After this, Atsushi agrees to become bait for the tiger, still unaware of his own special ability, he wallows in self-pity while he waits with Dazai, and then Dazai nullifies his ability once he transforms. Kunikida and some other ADA members show up, and when asked what they’ll do with him, Dazai decides to hire Atsushi.
Note: I love how Ranpo is grinning here while the others are like "wtf?"
You catch an insecure orphan kid with an extremely dangerous ability he has no control over, and decide to hire him? It seems to make no sense, especially since the ADA is introduced as this super-specialized unit of incredibly powerful individuals who do serious and important work.
But, as we know, this works out amazingly for both Atsushi and the agency.
Dazai’s decision to hire Atsushi was his way of embracing the absurd, which is a common theme within stories with absurdist themes. Because what are the other options here? They turn Atsushi over to the police and he’s imprisoned for the rest of his life on account of his dangerous ability? They just kill Atsushi because of said danger? Both of those options have little bearing on Dazai or the agency in the end, and we’re well aware that Dazai isn’t exactly an empath, and yet he chooses the seemingly worst option for the agency, which is to take on this clueless kid.
We’re treading into Dark Era territory here, but I do want to talk about it because it’s not included in the manga. So, I think it’s also really worth noting that this decision directly ties in with Dazai’s goal to live up to his promise to Oda. At this point in the story, we wouldn’t know this, but Oda explicitly told him to “help out some orphans” when advising him to do good. Overall, what Oda tells him to do is to become an absurdist and search for the beauty in life by fighting against its meaninglessness, rather than giving in through suicide or perpetuating violence in the Port Mafia.
Anyway, that’s the end of chapter 1 of BSD! It sets up a lot in terms of absurdist storytelling, from the characters to the world they inhabit. Future chapter analyses might not take up an entire post on their own like this depending on the chapter’s content, but for the first one, I felt it was important to establish the characters and setting within the absurdist context.
I also have absolutely no plan or schedule for posting these, I’m mostly doing it for my own enrichment because I genuinely get a lot of fulfillment from merging two of my interests together like this. I will continue to read manga like this in my free time and make these posts until I catch up with the present, and that might take a while since there are currently 110 chapters to get through. Additionally, I will absolutely still continue to do my absurdist analyses when chapters come out, especially since it’s so prudent to the plot of the current arc, so look out for those, too!
Thanks for reading and please feel free to reply and/or send asks about these posts, I love engaging in discussions about this stuff and I’m sure there will be things I miss along the way!
[Next] [Masterpost]
#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd manga#atsushi nakajima#dazai osamu#kunikida doppo#armed detective agency#bsd chapter 1#bsd 1#bsd absurdism analysis#soup rants
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Ok, here's the hill I'm gonna die on: I hate the concept of "chores". I hate it both in the context of parenting, and in the context of romantic relationships. A "chore" is something that you do because you were made to do it by an authority figure. Nobody likes that, and rightly so. But, living in an imperfect world as we do, there are various tasks that need doing. And when we care about each other, helping with these tasks and seeking help with these tasks are some of the most significant things we can do to show it. I think all our thinking around "chores" should flow from that.
Like, if you are a parent, bringing your kids in to help with the Very Important Tasks that the grow-ups do can be presented like an offer, not a command. The kid gets to help! They get to participate! They get to be needed! That feels good, and teaches them skills they'll need when fending for themselves later in life. It's not a chore that you must do, it's "come help mommy and/or daddy with this Important Grown-up Business". In my experience, most kids like that kind of opportunity. And not only does this give them practice helping others, it also teaches them that it's ok to ask for help, and that tasks are things which are often best approached as a team.
Yes, probably kids are still sometimes not going to want to participate. To me this is a heartening thing, however inconvenient it may be in the moment—I like when kids feel the strength to advocate for their own desires—but, you know, sometimes tasks still need to be done, so handle this how you will. But just not presenting things as "chores" from the get-go is I think a good place to start.
As for "chores" in relationships... I do get how, ya know, if a relationship partner says "you need to start doing more chores around here" or something, that could feel bad. Because, it's like, they're framing themselves as an authority figure who gets to assign chores; that would feel bad to anybody! But at the same time it's like, ok—life is full of tasks that need doing, as mentioned above. And if you love and care about someone, if you claim to have their back, shouldn't you want to help ease the load of all those fucking tasks they're burdened with? Isn't that a big part of what caring for someone is all about?
Relationships require labor, and figuring out how to set up an equitable distribution of labor in a relationship can be a genuinely hard problem. Especially if one or both partners are disabled, and things like that. I can't tell you how to do that for you and your situation. But I think a good place to start from is both partners thinking of it like "I care about you, so I want to help you with all these tasks, I want to help make your life easier". Not as, you know, "these are all the chores I/they have to do". That's why it's actually important for both partners to put in their fair share of labor in a relationship. Not because either is an authority figure who has the ability to assign "chores" to the other, but because when two (or more) adults have decided to live together and be committed to each other and face life together, they should be working to make each other's lives better and not worse, taking care of each other, and cooperating to fight The Tasks together is generally a pretty fundamental part of that.
And if your partner isn't helping you with The Tasks, it's not that they're a disobedient child who won't do chores, it's that they're an adult who's meant to be your ally in life but who isn't living up to all the responsibilities of that role, isn't helping take care of the things that need doing. And that's not a fair or compassionate way to treat someone that you're supposed to be a partner to.
Idk if any of that makes sense. I just don't like the concept of "chores" ok. We're all oppressed by The Tasks and helping each other with The Tasks is one of the most important ways we reach out, connect, show love and affection, and express our responsibilities and commitments to each other. I just don't think there's ever a case where it's good to frame it as "chores".
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if i could change one thing about the owl house, i'd change the main point of conflict in clouds on the horizon from "odalia's okay with genocide, alador isn't" to "alador is willing to listen to his children, odalia isn't"
first off, i'd make it so that odalia *didn't* know what the draining spell actually did. her knowingly participating in genocide just serves to overshadow her pre-established abusiveness, and feels like the writers didn't trust the audience to understand that she was Bad and deserved to be cut out of her family's lives on the basis of abuse alone.
(also it. kinda doesn't make sense why she'd be okay with it? like she is greedy and short-sighted. but the draining spell would negatively impact her personally, and while the idea of her being so distracted by greed that she acts against her own interests is extremely neat and an apt commentary on real billionaires, it's just,,, a big stretch.)
instead, i'd have her dismiss the truth with "i'm not going to put such a good business deal in jeopardy because of some unfounded suspicions" and "i trust the emperor far more than i trust a bunch of children"
next, i'd replace the scene where king talks to alador. while it was a really nice scene that revealed more about alador's situation and kinda laid the groundwork for king being helpful in the next episode, it's not the best way for alador to learn about the draining spell in my version of the episode. because in that scene, alador believes king is a coven scout -an authority figure- so trusting what he says about the day of unity is not any kind of challenge for alador.
instead, i'd make it so that *emira and edric* are the ones who tell him about the draining spell (maybe king helped the twins escape? that gives him a purpose within the episode and there's a fun parallel with him freeing the collector later).
i don't think the twins were deliberately looking for alador, but they saw him sitting out there as they broke out and they had two choices: sneak past him and continue trying to stop things themselves, or talk to him. and they don't quite trust alador to listen and do the right thing, but amity seemed so convinced when she told them he'd listen, and they trust *her*, so they decide to talk to him.
and he listens and promises to put a stop to it. and he tells them to go find safety, and emira is like "but shouldn't we stay and help/make sure amity is safe" and alador tells her that it should have never been her responsibility to handle everything (i am starving for her whole parentified older sister thing to get addressed can you tell) and promises that he's going to do better for all of them, and apologizes for being so negligent -and Maybe explains a bit of why he was like that and what odalia did to him (if i could fit it in without it being clunky and keeping it clear that it's an explanation not a full excuse)
so the twins go to take shelter at hexside (no more "wtf did he just leave them in gay baby jail???" that we had in canon) and alador and king go confront odalia/save amity like in canon
and then in that confrontation, perhaps alador brings up the abuse and overwork (since it maybe wouldn't come up in my rewritten scene w him and the twins like it did in canon's scene w him and king). and the general vibe w him confronting her is less "this is the final straw" and more "i should have done this years ago"
and overall i'd want the episode to keep the "he is also a domestic abuse victim and, at times, messed up because he was acting out of fear and trying to protect them" that it introduced in the canon version of the episode (i know some people have criticized the show's choice to make him a victim too and while i can understand some of their reasons i overall liked the concept so it stays) while keeping in mind the "sometimes he messed up because he was trying to do what was 'best' for his kids whilst ignoring what the kids actually wanted/needed" that they established in reaching out
#eliot posts#toh#the owl house#alador blight#odalia blight#emira blight#don't get me wrong i did overall love clouds on the horizon#but at the same time... i could Fix It#long post#abuse mention#genocide mention#i talked about this possible alternate episode with @pandoratheprocrastinator#tho they're also doing their own episode rewrite ideas which are for more extensive than mine lol
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Reader introducing Woftik to the concept of ooman winter holidays, maybe some gift giving. Tooth rotting fluff
The Holidays
Pairing: Woftik (male Yautja) x GN!reader
Word Count: 2744
Summary: In the vast winter lands of Yautja Prime, Woftik and his mate get to learn about ooman holidays. Woftik doesn't understand it but with the help of his ooman mate, he comes to learn and participate in it. If it means keeping you happy, he's up for it.
Author Note: Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays everyone! Hope everyone has a great end of the year and is preparing for the next. Here's your present! If you guys want a second part, let me know!
Masterlist
Ao3
The Yautja calendar and yours were different. Very different. After your time on Yautja Prime, the days have blended together far too much to remember when was when back home. Truly, it didn’t matter. You’ve made your choice to stick it out on Woftik’s planet. There was nothing to change your mind… besides the damned blizzards that forcefully board up the huts in your small village. The clan, Nacht Klinge, gets wiped off of the map for the time being.
During those months where little light would shine on the lands, casting them in darkness, you considered those to be the winter months. Similar to your own planet. It was the only way to make sense of the changing scenes.
For a fact, you knew the days were longer. On your first week, let alone day on the planet, you knew this immediately. At first, you believed it to be jet lag, or whatever you would consider traveling from planet to planet was. Yet, you later learned they have an extra five hours to their day.
Yautja’s calendars were something you didn’t dare mess with. Confusing with all the changes that happen. The months were weird. The days long, The weeks were six days compared to seven. You just went along with it. They weren’t anything you needed to fret over. If a day of importance came up, Woftik would remind you or let you know. He grew up with said calendar. It’s best to let him handle the confusion than the headache it would surely give you.
When the winter months rolled over the Nacht Klinge clan, an idea came to mind. The winter holidays. Presents; lights; gifts; family; joy. All of it. Your face soured. With the pros of living under your mate’s house, came cons as well. No people to celebrate with. Humans, at least. The Yautjas aren’t ones to have extreme holidays. Though in a sense, they had religion. Holidays usually came from religion.
Now, what could you even get Woftik as a present? He’s the caretaker and hunter. You do outside every once awhile, under the careful watch of those black eyes of his. The lands may look desolate but monsters, predators stalk their prey under the snow. The opposite of a fox or snow owl. Woftik ensured you understood, though not feared, the dangers that lurk beyond the protection of his home.
And you did. As a human though, you required the sun. Through your time in your new home, the color of your skin has lightened over time. Just enough to be noticeable.
Some time ago, you remember coming down with a terrible illness that could even affect a Yautja. Woftik freaked out. Yautja’s rarely got sick. So when they do, it’s serious. He sprinted the whole way to get you to the doctor of the village. Though younger than Woftik by a couple hundred years, she laughed at him before explaining how weak ‘ooman’ systems are. Poor man looked like he had a couple of years shaved off.
Deep in thought, you smiled subconsciously, eyes glazed over. Your head shook side to side to clear any memories still lingering. Times like that bulldoze any doubts over. Like weeds, they do return. But, hey, you’re human. Nothing can change the way you or your species thought.
Hard keratin gently pressed to the top of your head. Jolted from your thoughts, your head whipped up to find the dark gaze of your mate peering over the edge of the couch at you. “Woftik!” you spoke his name in surprise before lifting yourself to your knees and spinning around to face the off-white Yautja.
Small bits of snow clung to his clothing on his shoulders. Nothing out of ordinary. The low light of the twenty-nine hour days didn’t require him to use the googles designed to protect his eyes from the harsh sun or the reflective snow.
The chief of his clan dipped his head in greetings. You instantly wrapped your arms around the large male’s waist, not able to touch your hands together behind him. A size and heaviness needed in these harsher climates.
His body stayed soft in your hold, arms reaching to rub between your shoulder blades. Then, you let your arms fall to the couch, orbs still looking up at him. Woftik chuffed then leaned down to place another closed mandible kiss on the top of your head. “What has my little minx been up to?” he rumbled and walked around the short couch.
The lumbering giant scooped you from the seat, sat down himself, and let you rest on the new open spot. Muscular arms stayed wrapped around your smaller frame. A kind smile broke across your face, unable to glance away from those dark, light-consuming eyes of his. “Nothing much.”
Former thoughts flashed in your mind. A bittersweet feeling swelling behind your breastbone. Woftik was your new family.
A sharp, light grey claw tapped the tip of your nose and brought you from your mind. Eyes once glazed over peered back into the dark orbs of Woftik’s. “What is on your mind, mate?” his deep voice vibrated through his chest and into your side.
“Well…” you trailed off for a moment to think about how to explain this. From your limited knowledge, Yautjas have holidays but nothing like how human do or even celebrate. You chewed at the inside of your lip for a second before a light bulb shined above your head. “Okay, so humans have holidays. Presents, gatherings, family drama, the whole nine yards. Chaos in a pot. Well, I was wondering if we could maybe celebrate?”
There was an expression of indifference on his older features. The darkness of his eyes didn’t allow many of emotions to reflect in them. This left you to ponder what was rolling around in his massive head.
“Of course, if you don’t want to, I won’t make you. I… I just miss those things from my home, you know?” A nervous look presented itself as my expression. Not one born of fear, but from the known if Woftik would do this with you.
The arms around you unwrapped themselves to rest on the back of the couch. He looked like peace itself when he presented himself like this. “What does this holiday or holiday entail?”
Instantly, you perked up with a wide smile spilting your lips. “Really?!” Amusement flash through his eyes. “Yes! Okay, so I celebrate a day called Christmas. It’s really big in the states. It’s about a man named santa who delievers presents to children who’ve been good. The bad kids get coal.”
Off-white brows furrowed the longer you talked. “Wait, are you saying a random male breaks into your dwelling and gives you something?” he questioned in disbelief. How could anyone be okay with that?! He rarely let anyone over to his private hut. You are here, protected from the dangers of his world. To alone another of species to enter could endanger your life. A risk he wasn’t willing to take.
The laugh in return didn’t ease the tension in his body. “No, silly! It’s a sham. Santa doesn’t exist. It’s a story to tell to kids so they be good or else they won’t get any toys as a reward,” you explained and smack his chest with the back of your hand. It hurt you more than him.
Woftik hummed. “Strange. Does it work?” From the little experience he had with the oomans home planet, he truly didn’t know if it worked. His species use a more physical, firmer approach to unruly offspring. He’s had his fair share of smacks when he was a child. He learned from his mother not to do that the safer way then figuring it out if it stole his life.
You reached behind your neck to scratch an nonextant itch. “Eh, from the last year I was back on earth, the new generation was growing worse with their attitude and disrespect. Thankfully, I won’t have to worry about that being here and with you.”
By Paya’s grace, he loved the way you looked up at him, such a compassionate look. The day you died, he would wish to keep your eyes for the rest of his life. He knew it wouldn’t be the same, a fact that would forever sit heavy in his chest.
“So, what do you say? Wanna have a Christmas with me this year?” you asked with hope sparkling in your pupils. Woftik was a harden chief, a stern hand when it came to ensuring his clan survived every harsh month in these barren lands. When it came to you, his sweet, little ooman, he could never say no. Not when you look at him like that. Plus, the holiday sounded fun.
A grunt sounded from his deep barrel chest. “Why not.” You squealed and hugged the big male again, hands unable to touch each other.
“Thank you! Thank you!” you chanted then stood up on the couch. The added height was just enough to reach his face. Your lips touched at one of his lower mandibles in a mock kiss. The best the two of you could do while he had no lips to return he affection.
From the happiness apparent on your alien face, Woftik internally smiled at the sight. It was the right choice to do this with you. He rubbed a brow against your temple in affection. “Of course, my mate.” Woftik pulled back enough to look you in eye, a scaly brow raised in question. “When shall this ‘Christmas’ occur?”
Your lips pursed in thought. First off, you’ll need to go out and gather something for him as a present. That would require possibly sneaking past him and heading into town. With the weather getting worse during this months, venturing out would be dangerous. Especially for a human like you without your protector of a Yautja. The preparation and whatnot would take you some time to plan.
Since the winter was only about one-third over, there was plenty of time to work. “Okay, let’s do it in three weeks,” you offered.
Yes, the weeks are a day shorter, but the days are longer. They weren’t the same back on home but relatively close enough that it could work.
“Alright, three weeks from today shall be our ‘Christmas’,” Woftik agreed.
Another idea came to mind. “Oh! And I want to other things too. Like, wearing matching PJs and hot cocoa.” Your face was spilt wide with a grinning smile that would take a god’s force to remove. Not that Woftik would even dare to. Knowing that showing your teeth for oomans was a sign of happiness now, he would kill to see you like this all the time. His mate deserved to be ecstatic.
The thought of what would come from this new chapter in his life had him sighing on the outside. His normal, grumpy looking self on display. What had he gotten himself into now?
“You won’t regret it. I promise, Wof!” you reassured the male. Your soft, supple hands cupped his scaly outer jaw. Instantly, Woftik melted into this new hold on him, eyes hooding over. Despite his mind slowing, he was planning out how to execute this new holiday with you.
Hot cocoa? He’ll have to look it up but it must be a sweet drink. This far north from the warmth of the sun, little to planet life grew. This would require him to go into the bustling city towards the equator to get what you wanted. Maybe he would take you with him. Carefully. Not all clans are accepting of oomans. Almost all still saw them for the weak species they are, some of those just leave them alone as whole. A small amount go out of their way to kill any that stray away from the protection of either mate or clan. Woftik would have to keep you close and practically on a leash to ensure you don’t fall victim to those said clans.
This would be good though. Woftik does spend plenty of time with you but mostly here, in his private dwelling, protected and safe. The male would never think about taking you out for a hunt, risking unnecessary injury when he could easily provide for the two of you. To take you from here, into the heart of Yautja Prime… he saw it as a good thing. Exploration, change.
Internally, he nodded. Woftik would plan this as a day trip and use his ship to head to the equator to find the necessary items.
“I do have a plan, little ooman.” You tilted your head in silent question. “I shall take you with me to Eourov. From there, I will gather supplies for this ‘Christmas’ and we can celebrate together.”
Your eyes widened. Woftik has spoken some about the biggest city on Yautja Prime: Eourov. The fact he was willing to take you from his clan’s territory was surprising. But to the largest city?
As human, the natural feeling of fear crawled up your back like the legs of a spider. But you pushed that down and looked at him fearlessly. “When do we leave?” You brought forth the courage and excitement of exploring a new plan to your heart. Not only were you having Christmas with the person you loved, but he was taking you to somewhere new!
“I will have to bring up Totolak up to speed about this.” Totolak was Woftik’s second in command. “This will be a day trip but we will return at the end of the day cycle back here. So, he will need to cover for the day while I’m gone with you. We shall plan for two days.” Those dark brown, on the verge of black, eyes pierced through yours.
“Alrighty! I can’t wait,” you squealed and rewrapped your around him. This time, ensnaring his neck tightly. Woftik gently returned the act with just one arm around your torso. His free hand resting on your hip, his thumb mindlessly rubbing over your comfortable t-shirt.
“Is my mate happy?” he questioned. The first thought to come to mind was how ridiculous of a question that was!
“Of course I am! I get to spend more time with you. My favorite thing is to spend time with you. Even if it’s just lounging around with nothing to do,” you stated firmly towards the end. You prayed he wasn’t having doubts about your feelings towards him. You simply brushed off that stupid idea and kept grinning up at him.
The off-white Yautja saw devotion shining back in those pools of emotions. His heart squeezed at the sight. The hand on your hip scaled up your body to cup your jaw and tilted your head up, exposing your throat to him. An action only mates and deeply trusted ones would offer to one another. His pink tongue flickered out for a fleeting moment. “But you must stay close to me. At all times. You have to be glued at my side the whole time we are out,” Woftik demanded, voice growing lower to show his seriousness.
His hand tightened on your jaw. You took his words straight to your heart. Woftik wants to protect you from all harm as his mate. “I will,” you promised Woftik, only knowing the hint of dangers he spoke in fleeting talks before. All you knew was some Yautja hated your species and won’t hesitate to kill you. Thankfully, you have your heart placed in Woftik’s hands. He would keep you safe from danger.
Woftik purred and rubbed his brow once more to your temple. “Tomorrow, I will alert Totolak to our adventure. For now, I shall enjoy my time with my mate.”
The thick arm wrapped around your torso tightened. You were promptly lifted off of the couch and tossed onto the shoulder of Woftik. Said Yautja kept his limb secure around you and began his march to your shared room.
Your laugh echoed off of the walls of your home. “Woftik!” you tried to scold him through the laughter bubbling in your chest but was unsuccessful.
You soon found yourself trapped underneath Woftik’s lumbering frame as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Both of his arms were locked around you. No chance of escape, not that you want ed to in the first place. This is where you belonged. Forever.
#yautja#predator#yautja x you#yautja x reader#predator x reader#yautja x human#predator x you#predator x human#x reader#Woftik
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𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 + 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐲
pairing - charles leclerc x fem!reader x pierre gasly
warnings - fingering, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, dirty talk as usual, degradation (slut is used like once i think), creampie, facial, finger sucking
author’s note - for my 📎 nonnie who sent in a concept so good i had to turn it into a full headcanon (i’m sorry it took so long tho bby, i hope you like it)
you were the drink girl at the country club, so you were driving around and bringing drinks to guests the entire day
today was a pretty quiet day, with not that many guests which you were thankful for
you had gone out with your friends last night and ended up having a pretty wild night
except your wild night wasn’t with your friends at all
it was with the guy you met at the club and had gone home with
you couldn’t even remember his name, something like pedro? pietro?
but you definitely couldn’t forget the way he fucked
all day you couldn’t stop thinking about him
the way he touched you, how he used his fingers and his tongue on you, the feeling of his cock splitting you open…
you craved more
unfortunately, you didn’t have his number and you didn’t stick around to get his number in the morning because you’d snuck out of bed and left him without a word or a note
which was probably for the best though
because as much as you wanted more, you weren’t even sure if you could handle another night with him
all day you were sore and you could feel the bruises he’d left on your hips, reminding you of your time together last night
but of course, the universe had other plans
you were going around, checking to make sure that all the guests had drinks and didn’t need anything
you went up to two guys and hear them speaking
“wait so she just left you in the morning? she snuck out? and didn’t even leave a note or her number?”
“yes! that’s never happened to me before!”
you hear some resemblance in the voice but don’t think anything of it until the first guy spoke up again
“i can’t believe this. pierre gasly’s hook up left before he even woke up. must’ve been really bad if she left.”
pierre. that was his name
you were about to turn around and not go up to them but they both noticed
“oh! hey! do you work here love?” charles calls out and pierre turns around to see you, immediately recognizing you
“well, this is a pleasant surprise, chérie,” pierre says, the nickname sending shivers down your spine
“yeah… definitely a surprise,” you say
your workplace was the last place you expected you run into your one night stand
“you know each other?” charles asks
“something like that…” pierre says as charles puts together the pieces after seeing how you two were looking at each other
“please tell me you’re the girl who ditched him this morning,” charles says, a smirk appearing on his face
“i- okay when you phrase it like that, it makes me sound like such a bad person,” you say
“was it that bad that you had to leave right when you woke up chérie? not even a goodbye note or anything?” pierre asks
“clearly it was otherwise she would’ve stuck around,” charles snickers
“please, you didn’t hear the way she was moaning for me last night. it was definitely good for her,” pierre scoffs
“there’s a thing called faking, mate. something you wouldn’t have to do with me,” charles winks at you
“fuck off,” pierre scowls at his friend
“are you two done? i’d like to do my job please,” you interrupt them
“your job?” pierre asks
“yes, my job. i’m the beverage cart girl. and i left early to come to work,” you say
“so what can i get for you boys?” you ask
“just to clarify, you didn’t leave because the sex was bad?” pierre asks
“jesus christ, just tell me what you want to drink,” you sigh, just wanting to get them their drink and get away from them
earlier, you couldn’t stop thinking about pierre
but now you couldn’t stop thinking about his friend as well… and how he’d be in bed
and you didn’t even know his name yet
so you definitely needed to get away from them before things escalated
“she’s not answering the question which basically answers the question. my offer still stands angel. you definitely won’t have to fake an orgasm with me,” charles says
“okay i know you didn’t fake anything with me. i felt you cumming around my cock,” pierre says and you feel your cheeks heat up at his language
“please, i can make her cum with just my fingers,” charles scoffs
“alright! rum and coke for both of you it is!” you exclaim, deciding for them since they couldn’t stop bickering before heading back to your cart to quickly make them their drinks
when you get back, you hand them their drinks and get ready to leave but they stop you
“okay, we have a proposal for you,” charles starts
“this should be good,” you sigh
“oh it will be. i’ll make it real good for you just like i did last night,” pierre says and you look at them confused
“…what exactly is this proposal?”
“one night with us,” pierre says
“i- you- i don’t even know your name!” you turn to charles
“i’m charles, nice to meet you. remember my name cause you’ll be screaming it,” he says
“okay this,” you wave a finger between the three of you
“is very inappropriate,” you say
“i’m pretty sure what we did last night also classifies as inappropriate, chérie,” pierre says
“stop calling me that,” you say
“why? do you not like it? you sure did last night,” he smirks
“i don’t think you understand the meaning of a one night stand. it was a one time thing,” you tell him
“yeah mate. you already had your chance and you blew it. so can i spend a night with you angel? i promise it’ll be ten times better than your night with him,” charles says
you couldn’t help but feel your panties dampen as you thought about their offer
pierre notices as you squeezed your thighs together
“you like the idea hm?”
you decide to just say fuck it and go for it
you scribble down your phone number on a napkin and hand it to one of them
“just a one time thing. i get off work at 7,” you say and head back to your cart to continue doing your job
for the rest of the day, you couldn’t stop thinking about what was going to happen later on that night
when you got off your shift, the boys led you to their car
charles pulled you into the backseat with him while pierre drove
he kept a hand on your thigh while his lips were on your neck
pierre watched the two of you in the rear view mirror with a clenched jaw
“can’t even wait til we get to the hotel?”
“keep your eyes on the road mate.”
you were getting wetter from just his lips on your skin and you needed more
so you spread your legs apart a little, sliding his hand up your inner thigh until it met your core
“you need something angel?”
“stop teasing. i think i’ve had to deal with enough of your teasing all day already,” you whine a little when his fingers brushed your panties lightly
“tell me what you want angel.”
“make me cum with just your fingers like you said you would.”
he pushes your panties aside, sliding two of his fingers inside your soaking wet pussy
you whimper at the feeling and both pierre and charles feel themselves l harden at your noises
“i bet my fingers feel so much better than his, don’t they?” charles whispers in your ear
your mind doesn’t even register what he’s saying but you nod anyways, just wanting him to make you cum
“come on angel. cum all over my fingers and i’ll make you cum on my cock later.”
his words send you over the edge and you tighten your legs around his wrist
he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips and licking them clean, keeping eye contact with you the entire time
once he’s done licking his fingers, you pull him in for a kiss
you two are too lost in the kiss that you don’t even realize that the car stopped moving
“are you two done yet?” pierre speaks up and you both pull away from the kiss
charles helps you out of the car and they lead you up to one of their hotel rooms
as soon as you’re in the room, pierre’s lips are on yours, kissing you hungrily
charles is walking behind you, tugging your skirt and panties down your legs before taking off his own clothes
pierre breaks the kiss for a moment to rake off his own shirt before pushing you onto the bed
“i need to get a taste of you,” he says
“why do you get to go first?” charles huffs as he sat behind you while pierre laid down between your legs
“because you already had a turn with her in my car.”
charles rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything
he slides his hands up your top, cupping your tits while pierre spreads your legs apart
your head falls back against charles’ shoulder as soon as pierre’s tongue starts licking your pussy
charles’ fingers squeeze and pinch your nipples, making you whimper
“tastes so fucking good. just as sweet as you did last night,” pierre moans against you
“can you hurry things up? i want a taste of her too,” charles says, hearing pierre mutter out a “shut up” before his tongue buries itself in your pussy
his tongue laps up all your wetness, licking every inch of your pussy
“think you can do something for me angel?” charles whispers in your ear as you gasp from pierre’s tongue flicking your clit
“moan my name when he makes you cum.”
when you came on pierre’s tongue, you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, charles’ name leaving your lips which cause pierre to look up at you
when he looked up, he just saw you with your head leaned back on his friend’s shoulder, with your mouth slightly parted while charles was whispering in your ear
“good girl, good fucking girl,” he whispers, kissing your cheek before he noticed pierre looking and gave him a smirk
“seriously?” pierre asks and charles just feigns innocence
“what? i didn’t do anything. you were clearly doing something wrong so she had to moan my name,” charles says and pierre just rolls his eyes
“yeah let’s see whose name she’s screaming by the end of the night. i guarantee she won’t even remember yours,” pierre says
“must you two always be so competitive?” you ask as charles bends you over so you’re on your hands and knees, with pierre still in front of you
“when it comes to pretty girls like you? yes,” charles winks, positioning himself behind you
pierre taps his cock on your lips and you immediately take him into your mouth
charles hated that pierre had all your attention so he leaned down, putting his mouth on your pussy
you moan around pierre’s cock when charles’ tongue slides in your hole
“keep your eyes on me, chérie,” pierre says, trying to keep your attention, which was hard to do when charles’ tongue was making you see stars
pierre starts fucking your mouth slowly, making you keep eye contact with him the entire time
charles added a couple of his fingers inside you, bringing you close to your third orgasm of the night
but right when you were about to cum, he sat up, making you whine
but your whine quickly turned into a loud moan when he slid himself into your pussy
as he filled you up, you took pierre out of your mouth, letting out a loud moan
“that’s it angel. who’s filling up your pretty pussy? who’s making you feel this good?”
“you’re distracting her. get back to work chérie,” pierre says, giving you a look as you start to stroke his cock while your eyes rolled back from the way charles’ cock fucked you
“it’s not my fault my cock is making her feel so good she can’t focus on anything else,” charles smirks
the boys continued their little banter while they each fucked one of your holes
pierre has his hands in your hair, keeping your head in place while he fucks your throat
while charles held your hips tightly, pounding into you
you’re moaning around pierre’s cock while your eyes roll back
“you look so pretty right now chérie.”
“making us both feel so good angel.”
“just a little slut for us hm?”
“just letting us use you however we want.”
their words made your head spin, driving you closer to your orgasm
right before you cum, you pull pierre’s cock out of your mouth, replacing it with your hand
you’re too focused on your own orgasm that you stop stroking his cock so he takes over
pierre jerks himself off, painting your face with his cum as you try to catch some of it in your mouth
“so pretty,” pierre whispers, wiping some of it off your face onto his thumb, bringing it to your lips for you to suck clean
the sight of you covered with his friend’s cum and sucking it off his fingers was enough to make charles cum as well
he fills you up before pulling out, watching as his cum dripped out of your pussy
“fuck,” you hear charles’ whisper before feeling his finger pushing his cum back inside your pussy
he pulls you back so you’re laying between his legs again while pierre grabbed a towel to clean you up
he wipes all his cum off your face before cleaning between your legs
once you’re all clean, the boys lay on either side of you
“so, you gonna sneak out on us again tomorrow morning?” pierre asks, kissing your shoulder
“depends… is there any reason i should stay?”
“looks like you’ve just gotta stay and find out,” charles tells you
and they definitely give you a reason to stay when you wake up
#cl#pg#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc x reader#pierre gasly smut#pierre gasly x reader#diorleclerc writes
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“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” with kaeya (genshin) omg ty 🫶
pairing: kaeya alberich (genshin impact) x reader (gender-neutral pronouns)
type: one-shot
prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”
word count: 1,228
author's note: i hope u enjoy anon mwah ❤️
( masterlist │ ask/request │ prev post )
You pass through Mondstadt every few moons. The caravans of people you bring with you have somehow created a bond with the Wind City. This is the one place you all consider home—Teyvat is large, and you have seen places more beautiful than whatever the mind can conjure, but nothing is more beautiful than the singing dandelions dancing around the front gate of the city walls.
You entertain the thought of settling down. You have, countless times. You thought of starting a restaurant down in Liyue—or trying to somehow attain Inazuma citizenship despite the vision hanging loosely on your neck. But the perilous ways call out to you at night, and every time you begin daydreaming of setting your life down, it pulls you back in a whirlwind.
And no matter what the Cavalry Captain says to you tonight, nothing will change the fact that you belong to the road more than you even belong to yourself.
It is your first day back after months of not stepping into Mondstadt. The people have not changed—the wine stays good. A small party gathers at Angel’s Share, and you’ve somehow left the crowd and followed Kaeya up the second floor.
Kaeya raises the glass of wine to his lips—at this point, the alcohol no longer does a thing to his system. He’ll down however many glasses that are given to him, and he will probably at some point vomit them when it’s too much for his liver to handle. But getting drunk? The concept seems foreign to Kaeya.
He rests his back on the balcony and shakes the glass in his hand to watch the red liquid swirl in his glass.
The taste? Kaeya does not particularly enjoy red wine. Why does he keep coming back to it? It’s strange.
He glances at you. His confession didn’t seem to faze you—like you have been expecting it. Or you are used to it. Kaeya assumes that a mixture of both would be the reason for your ease. He doesn't hide his affection, after all. He quickly recalls all the times he has asked you to join him for a drink or lunch; all the time he scoots his chair closer to you when you would bring your friends in the tavern. All the sleepless nights in his chamber, too, must be quite the indicator for you of his attachment.
Kaeya finds falling in love to be quite easy and falling out of love quite the opposite, especially when it comes to you.
He turns and sets the glass on the balcony. “You’re acting like you didn’t hear me.”
His retort sends a wave of laughter out your mouth, which in turn sends chills down his spine.
“I am not lover material, Captain,” you smile, swaying your body. “Teyvat is as big as you can see, and more. You’ll find whatever woman or man you actually want beyond Mondstadt’s borders.”
“But you’re the only one I want.”
“No,” you insist, as though you know better. “I am the only thing you know. Staying in one city does that to you, you see.”
“That’s where you are wrong,” Kaeya chuckles, resting his elbow on the balcony and his chin on his hand. “Do you not trust me?”
“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head and waving your hands. “You put me in quite the spot… How do I not trust the most trustworthy man in Mondstadt?”
He scrunches his nose, the edge of his lips tugging upwards. “Oh, dear. I didn’t come here to be mocked.”
“I am not mocking you. I would never…” You let your eyes wander around for a moment, grinning softly at him. “Well, not tonight, at least.”
“How do you expect me to not fall for a smile like that?” He asks, playfully looking away, though still catching the way your gaze shifts away, your hand going to rub the skin of your neck rather brutally. “You still don’t believe me.”
You sigh. “I told you. I am not someone you just make a lover. There are so many better choices—the pretty girl by the fountain this morning. Or the Liyue man staying for the month.”
“I don’t want the pretty girl by the fountain, or the Liyue man staying for the month,” he tilts his head. “Is it that hard to understand?”
You bite the inner corner of your lips, not looking at him. Kaeya can see the gears in your head turning—he can hear all the oils squeaking and lever pulling.
“You want the person who you meet… like, I don’t know. Four times a year?”
The tone of your voice makes it seem like he is being ridiculous. But Kaeya has never felt more sure. He is sure of the longing on his chest the same way he is sure of the wine in his blood veins. The alcohol is not speaking as he had pulled any power away from it—the night and his mind has never been more clearer with your glistening eyes and trembling lips.
“That is what you are, yes,” he nods, and watches how your shoulders drop. “You are a person who I see four times a year. It has been like this for so long that I cannot remember the life I had when I wasn’t waiting for you to arrive in town.”
“Captain…” You hesitate. “You’re just going to get hurt.”
“I get hurt every time you leave the city.” Kaeya straightens his posture, leaning his side on the railing now as he faces you. “And yet it hurts less and less the more time you do it. I learned not to take it to heart because I know you’ll always return.”
Kaeya blinks as you turn to look at him.
“Do you get it? You are the one I want—no one else. Just you.”
You touch your neck again, this time braving yourself to look Kaeya in the eyes. “Me, leaving over and over again. You, not knowing when you will see me again. This is not something easy, Kaeya—”
He sucks in a deep breath at the whisper of his name in your voice.
“—and this is hard,” you blink—only then does Kaeya realise that you have been holding back the choking of your words.
“It’s not hard,” he raises his arm out, letting the palm of his hand cup your cheek. The coarse thumb rubs the skin under your eye, careful to not press down too hard. “It’s not hard waiting when getting to love you is the consequence.”
“Dear Lord,” you scoff with a small smile, closing your eyes and melting into his hand. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Kaeya hums, stepping in closer to you. “I’d like to have a taste of it,” he murmurs, leaning to press his nose on your forehead, “if I may.”
You smile, his gaze peering at you greets your sight the moment you reopens your eyes.
“Regret often comes in the form of your most wanted desire.”
He furrows his eyebrow. “Regret and I have known each other for a while. I know that you are the one thing I will not regret,” he moves to place a kiss on your cheek. “Place your bets on me. Trust me like I trust myself.”
You wrap your arms around his neck—hell, you might give it a try.
#requests: anon !#genshin#one-shot#kaeya#kaeya x reader#kaeya x you#genshin x reader#kaeya alberich#kaeya alberich x reader
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“is it alright to say what I feel?” [11th Doctor x You]
Fandom: Doctor Who
Ship: 11th Doctor x Reader
Word Count: 1102
Summary: The Doctor has been feeling some things for the reader for a while, but after seeing a Ganger of his had some intentions, he had said something that may expose his feelings.
Warnings: none that I can think of.
Request: No
Author’s Note: I really don’t know if I executed this concept properly, I really loved the idea of the Doctor being jealous of himself. I don’t think it’s my best work, but I did this mostly for self-indulging reasons, Anyways happy reading!
The fic is inspired by a song called, “Kiss & Disappear” - Vincent Eco (https://open.spotify.com/track/7ng0ZrCaSjTL6sgxbtXjXB?si=649f2e873c8a4e64)
The Doctor had feelings not too long after you joined him on his adventures through time and space, he already took a liking to you after literally bumping into you in a chase from aliens in disguise on Earth, after that fiasco, he asked if you wanted to join him in some adventures, just to make you sure and to let you know what adventures he’s referring, but not so long after, it became more often that you joined him on traveling anywhere in space and time.
The more often you joined the Doctor on his adventures, the more he developed feelings for you, at first, he managed to convince himself that it was just admiration of your bravery and strength, but the first time he saw you hurt, even though it was just a mild injury, he felt his heart dropped, not being able to handle to see you in that state, so he was being careful in protecting you, and keeping you close to him.
But for you, It all started by telling Amy about your crush on the Doctor, nervous as you were, afraid of her reaction, it was an anxious moment, but thankfully, she was supportive of you and wanted to help out. The two of you were close and sometimes team up when it comes to bantering against the Doctor.
Right now, You were glancing at the two Doctors in the room, knowing one is a Ganger, you just didn’t know which was which, but you just listened to what plans and ideas they had in mind since you didn’t know what to contribute just yet.
One of the two Doctors ran with Amy to find Rory leaving you with the other Doctor in the room, you sighed trying to think what to do for now while waiting for them to return,
“I saw the way you looked at us.” the Doctor hummed,
“W-what do you mean by that?” you were cut off from your thoughts by him placing his finger on your lips, shushing you.
“Ah ah, you know what I mean, dear.” his voice suddenly was lower as he got closer and closer, making you nervous and jittery as you back onto the wall. Nervous, you just tried to question your way out, “What are you talking about?” you averted eye contact as he trapped you against the wall.
One of the Doctor’s hands grabbed your chin and made you face him, leaving you with no choice but to look at him,
“I saw how looked at him and me, you were nervous, yet intrigued by us talking, so my conclusion is you desire me? Am I wrong?” he smirks as his face was inches close from your face, you tried to push him away, but as soon as your arms were halfway up, his hands caught them and pinned them on the wall, above your head, “Oops, you’re not moving til you answer me.”
You gulped, not knowing his plan, your breathing became more unstable, hearing your heart beat so loud, that it could burst out your ribcage,
“So what will it be, love? Do you love me?” The last word made your spine tingle as he leans his forehead against yours,
“I-I…I, uh…” is all you managed to say, the Doctor was about to say something, before being cut off by the other Doctor,
“Oi! That should’ve been me!” The Doctor pried the other Doctor off of you, making the one stumble into the dark corner of the room,
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” The Doctor that saved you from the confrontation, asked as he looks at you, worried out of his mind, as he was looking for any signs if the other did anything bad to you.
Amy also rushed in as the Doctor from the dark was now walking towards you, “Information is a powerful thing…I was just putting a theory to the test…” he chuckles
“She’s mine, back off you Ganger!” he hissed making you and Amy look at him, surprised at what he just said.
Later on, after the whole conundrum had ended and the real Doctor had dropped off Amy and Rory at their house, it was now just You and the Doctor in the Tardis, awkwardly quiet for a bit.
The Doctor was fidgeting with the console of the Tardis, trying to distract himself from the thought of what he just said to you, wanting to save you from the Ganger that looked like himself, he thought it was odd that he had done it out of jealousy.--
You were about to say something, until the Doctor broke the silence first, “so I wanted to ask you something earlier..”
Your heart was racing again, nervous about what he would ask,
“What he said,.. Is it true?” he asked as he blushed a bit, an unusual sight for you since he never shows this side of him,
“W-which one?” You sat down, burying your face out of embarrassment.
“I have been thinking, wishful thinking for a while…” he averted his gaze, his voice sounding a bit more gentle but firm before he sighs, hoping for the best outcome on what he was about to say.
“If it’s alright to say what I feel?” he asks as he pulled you close, wrapping you in his embrace, blushing, you just nodded, making the Doctor blush again, his eyes fluttering.
“I-I love you so much to the point I feel bad that I might have embarrassed both me and you from what I said earlier and I was afraid that he’d hurt you, and I don’t want that moment to be happening and taken by another version of me that’s going to make you change the way how you see me,” he admitted quietly as he buried his face in your shoulder, slightly embarrassed from the blabber as he held you tight, his feelings of jealousy subsiding, he hated hiding his feelings for you, but at the same time, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he thought it was best to keep his feelings to himself, but now, at least he doesn’t have to do that anymore, but was still afraid of your reaction.
“Oh Doctor…” You held his face, gently caressing it to calm his frantic nerves, “If you really feel that in your heart, then let’s not waste any time.” You brush your lips against his before he initiated the kiss, it was gentle and sweet, and full of passion, after a bit, He pulled away, “You have no idea how much I wished for this moment.”
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(Author’s Note: I am a sucker for confessing love stories, but I hope that this story isn’t too bad and I hope the concept I had in mind carried through, after all I wrote this story without using too much of my braincells, hope you enjoyed this though.)
#eleventh doctor#eleventh doctor x reader#eleventh doctor x you#11th doctor#11th doctor x reader#11th doctor x you#doctor who#doctor who x reader#doctor who x you#dw fanfic#x reader
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Page 849 Reworked
I've been waiting a long time to show this one, and had to adjust some stuff cause the author thought rushing to place an out of place fog would make things better, but just adds on the confusion of a fog only showing around their and not around the area.
Also would've had a scene of them going through the fog and we seen the Two tribes coming in through the fog. This would've been a better battle and advantage CAUSE LET ME REMIND YA. There are two tribes band together to take down Meteor tribe and a few of Whispervale members. THIS IS A NO WIN BATTLE, Meteor has to be strategic and improvise from a no win scenario.
Ronja and other would've taken advantage of the fog and fought them there and not up the freaking mountains. taken advantage when the elements plus the rain coming down would make it more thick in mist. THE BATTLE SPEAKS FOR ITSELF!!!.
Close-up shots;
I did adjustment of the whole scene cause this is an action scene;
Panel adjustments and add-ons
Added lighting and shadows
Added SFX
Reworked the BG
Added armor
Added tribal paint
Worked Dialogue bubble cause yikes Ronja.
KARGO HAS PAINT ON BOTH SIDES!!!
He also has the other half of his body.
Adjust to make the dogs more like fur.
Diarko had him more primitive and connect the dark markings.
Also quote from the author themselves; " No paint on any of them for this, it's tedious enough to have to draw all this armor X)"
SO BASICALLY YOU, an author that is drawing a Raiding battle of tribes that is between life and death, doesn't want to do paint nor any detailed important stuff, so we don't know who's fighting who. It's not even battle armor cause None of them ARE WEARING ANYTHING TO PROTECT THEMSELVESM, Meteortribe is more equipped with clothes then the tribes that are experienced not wearing any, they're the one's that say burning bodies is ' primitive '.
let me tell ya after 2-3 pages its laughable on him trying to make this the final boss type BS when they. How these dogs advanced again? ya got literally spirits giving out free loot XD
This is what I mean by ' changing plot to fit the story ' and ' inconsistencies ' like this an annoying blemish, instead of a competent tribes that are more experienced and trained to handle such things, you are NOT given armor nor paint nor anything of an build-up, because you was lazy and don't know how to find an easy way to do said battle armor - PLUS don't know how to have meteor tribe not lose members.
Like, why the heck are the two tribes waited MONTHS to start invading them now why not then??
because kiq. doesn't know how to fix the plot holes, since basically would've been wiped out regardless of the extra protection.
why meteor waited so long to fix their defenses?
why Keirr is not with them, isn't he a family oriented dog.?
Why Rhovanion and Feaf are not their isn't Rhov and family oriented dog?
Why meteor didn't leave around winter and waited many months to move at all? , this is not a vacation, its an evacuation.
why Tribes waited years to actually start something now then 30 years ago.?
Why Roamer wants to take the idea from Kargo which was meant for Kargo, roamer, Ferah to make their ' new life? ' why not just have it where its an idea you made on your own???!!!! really putting salt on that wound ain't ya?
When did Kargo know about Rogio, more then Roamer who is literally his boyfriend?
Why Rogio dumping all the chores on Roamer to do? he's been doing it a lot and somehow Roamer have to agree, cause remember those scenes when Roamer put OUT HIS OPINION??!!! and tried to help? he gotten gaslighted and a upper cut of emotional manipulations.
Why Rogio wants a Polycule now? especially after we SAW Rogio snooping AGAIN on other dogs conversations. and Kargo so far is focused on other things then having a threesome.
and all these glaring and many more glaring questions.
Again the question is why?? why, why and more WHY'S. This stuff usually is dealt with after doing drafts, concepts and revisions.
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Ps.
The quick placement of the Fog was laughable, cause think about it like, why kiq. going to do a dues ex Machina on the mountains and not in the fogs. Think about it in a tactical planning for Ronja and writers. The Fog is more an advantage to hide in the thick mist in dark shades of the trees, then being exposer on plan sight on top of a mountain. Meteor ( Nordguard ) 1. does not know how to wield a sword, 2. they're outnumbered, 3. lack experiences and 4. have children. They needed to think strategically and fast.
The fog would've been a perfect scene for them to hide in and cover their scents, Rain and thunder is coming, so more thick fog and cover up from the tribes, they would use that to their advantage and scatter the raid them around. It's a risky maneuver but Ronja can't be hesitant nor meek on this, is all or nothing.
THIS STUFF IS GOOD TENSION AND CHARACTER BUILD-UP.
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This creating armor and concepts is like whip cream on an ice cream cake for me. But hey it's not my Comic to stress over, be a pump and dump for all I bloody know .
.....
Side Goodies:
Quick Armored concept for Dragonsfall
Dragonsfall Paint marks
The Dragonsfall tribe is a group of Canines who have forged a strong alliance with Fire-breathing lizards, believing themselves to be descendants of these majestic creatures. They are known for crafting a unique bronze metal, believed to be hardened and melted with metal from the scales of dragons. This bronze shines like fire, is harder than regular metal, and exhibits weird translucent colors like the scales. The tribe also molds bits of leather to create softer but sturdier materials. While they may have lost some of the fierce traits associated with dragons over time, certain traits like their scales, reproduction and facials still show hints of their connection to these mythical beings.
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HAPPY EATING YA BLOGGERS ��
#home comic#asmundr#kique7#asmundrhome#kique nordin#asmundrcomic#home#kique#bad dog comics#kiquenordin#constructive critism#rework#concept writing#concept art#art edit#consistent inconsistency#inconsistency#comic art#comics#my edit#artwork#art criticism#worldbuilding#bad webcomics#bad writing#bad art#questionable choices#questionable mindset
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THE GODFATHER — TSU’TEY HEADCANONS
#SYNOPSIS: tsu'tey being being a godfather/uncle to the sully kids
#WARNINGS: none
#CHARACTERS: tsu'tey, neteyam, lo'ak, kiri, tuk'tirey
#AUTHORS NOTE: this is my first post so be easy 💀
NETEYAM
without a doubt tsu’tey and neteyam had the most in common. they were both noble older brothers and strong hunter/warriors who took themselves way too seriously. a man of few words, tsu’tey wasn’t nearly as vocal as jake in regards to neteyam’s responsibilities. don’t be fooled though, his expectations were just as high. he considered his godson to be his successor as olo’eyktan one day and wanted to be sure that he could handle the pressure that comes with the title.
began calling neteyam "mighty warrior" when he got his first knife at 6 years old, teasing at first, but growing to mean it over the years. neteyam was without a doubt his favorite sully to hunt with, and he took pride in knowing that he helped perfect his shooting form (not that it needed much correcting, the boy was valid).
he gives the most insane dating advice like it’s normal.
“if you like this person, simply kill a sturmbeest and give it to them as an offering so they know that you're a good hunter. the bigger the better, then they’ll be more likely to mate with you.” “mate? i’m only 15–”
or
"someone made a pass at them yet you sit here whining to me? you must challenge them to a duel! i’m sure you could kill them easily-" "godfather, no-"
LO’AK
this boy is his father’s son through and through. since the day lo’ak uttered his first word, he and tsu’tey had been butting heads. i’m talking full blown arguments between a grown man and a child. tsu’tey didn’t care – he never ran from a fight, and he’d be damned if he started now.
he would always tell jake that he, "didn’t care for the little one” as a bit, but when lo'ak failed his iknimaya, you can bet that tsu’tey immediately began preparing him for the next one. he’d poke fun at him from the sidelines the same way he did when it was jake’s turn all those years ago. he’d point out every mistake lo’ak made, all to avoid saying that he was actually super proud to see him get an ikran this time around.
catches lo’ak and spider in places they shouldn’t be several times a week. he always wrangles them up and returns them to the village, swearing to rat them out to jake and neytiri. he’s usually bluffing though, save for the few times they’d actually had the potential to get hurt. sometimes he’d turn them in just to keep them on their toes which usually kept their antics at bay for a while. at the end of the day, they were just kids doing kid shit, and tsu’tey could only be so concerned about that.
KIRI
he wasn't rocking with her at all for for the first few years of her life. he still wasn't comfortable around "dreamwalkers", even after the war, so kiri’s miraculous conception from a dormant avatar did very little to ease his suspicions.
“look, i understand if you don’t want to be her godfather, but she’s not going anywhere. we’re all she’s got.” jake said.
though his suspicions began to fade over the years, they never left him entirely. having agreed to be her godfather as well, he tried to support her interests when could. they changed constantly, to whatever facet of nature she was obsessed with at the moment. this week it was mushrooms.
“i don’t know what kind they are so don’t ask.”tsu’tey would hand kiri a leather pouch full of random mushroom caps he’d collected during his last hunt.
she would always inspect the plants he brought and he’d take note of which ones she kept and which ones she didn’t, so he’d know the right ones to get next time. he would still accidentally bring the poisonous ones home sometimes.
he was the personification of "he's a little confused but he got the right spirit"
TUK’TIREY
tsu’tey would die for all of his godchildren in a heartbeat, but he would kill for tuk. she was his little partner in crime, often tagging along while he did his patrol of the forest or made new weapons. people rarely showed interest in the chores of the chief, but she’d found them cool enough, and that meant a lot to him.
one time, tuk was sulking around camp for days, until tsu’tey asked what was wrong. she’d asked jake to teach her how to shoot a bow, and he told her no, that she was still too young.
“nonsense. i learned to shoot an arrow before I could walk. i will teach you.”
tsu’tey was careful that he didn’t scold or poke fun at her when she released her shot too early or complained that her arms were sore. he didn’t want to discourage her. still, he wasn’t the type to offer flowery words of encouragement. he would simply correct her form and re-direct her towards her target.
“do it again.” “but godfather-” “again. and don’t slouch your shoulders like that.”
he’d give any gemstones and shells he found to tuk to polish and make into beads or armbands. in the beginning, he could admit that they weren’t as perfect as he liked, often uneven in shape and size, but he sported them anyway. after scoring his biggest kill wearing her beads, it became tradition to make him a new strand before every hunt. he kept every strand they ever made.
#atwow#avatar headcanons#tsu’tey headcanon#tsu’tey avatar#avatar 2009#avatar way of water#neteyam#neteyam headcanons#loak#loak headcanons#kiri#kiri headcanons#tuktirey#tuk avatar#masterlist
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Fic Ask Game: Favorite Fic Lines
Hello people. So, I got some sudden inspiration for this little game, which goes hand in hand with the KinnPorsche Fanfic Comment Event a little bit, in my opinion:
Share the lines of fics that have brought a big emotional reaction out of you. It can be anything, from sadness to happiness to horniness to anything in between. Lines that have stayed with you, no matter how long ago you read the fic.
I believe our writers deserve a little praise in these trying times, don't you think?
So, for me, some of them are the following:
1) "The rib hurts so much more now that someone else knows about it."
- drank every scar, by @ginnymoonbeam -
Tbh, I'd have to put the whole fic in here, but this is the line I tend to think of whenever the fic comes to mind. Rereading it now to find the line made my eyes water, it's so fucking visceral and perfect and I love it so much. Once again, thank you so, SO much for writing it and sharing it with the world ❤️
2) "Vegas’ violence is unpredictable, painfully personal, and utterly, tragically ineffectual.
Pete forgives him all of it."
- Civil Hands, by @ameliarating -
I can't count the times I went feral over both Civil Hands and Deep Dive. As a fan of Pete, both of those fics mean the world to me, and this specific line has been on my mind since the moment I read it. I love how it showcases Vegas' effect on Pete's worldview, how Vegas made him break his own rules, and how he came to accept it, because it's him. Incredible writing, I love it so fucking much❤️
3) "He’d rather be marked as disposable, he’d realized, than erased as invisible.
There was something bitter about realizing that he’d been both."
- Once You Are Real, by @veliseraptor -
Lise chose this for the summary and it's such a perfect choice. I think it's the reason I chose to read the fic in the first place. I am very emotional when it comes to the concept of Pete finding out he was forgotten, and this fic does an amazing job with it. I keep returning to it a lot, I love it to death. Painful in it's brilliance, I can't recommend it enough.
4) "“I don’t know,” Pete said unsteadily. “I don’t know. How could I know what that feels like? I’m not that kind of person.” He pulled against Vegas’s grip, and got nowhere. “You make my teeth ache. You make the world bright, like it’s real. It hurts. It’s hurt since I met you, but that means I can never forget I’m alive."
- even the clearest water, by @luckydicekirby
What a fic. The concept, the lines, the execution, it all deserves praise until the end of time. Pete's answer to Vegas' "Do you love me?" will always remain in my head as one of the best things VP-related I've ever read and ever will read in my life. I loved this so fucking much, I will never get over it ❤️
5) "“And now you have nothing,” Kinn says. “As I said, a dumb move.”
“Wrong again,” Vegas says. “I now have something you don’t.”
“Oh?” Kinn doesn’t hide the way he rolls his eyes. “Massive hospital bills? Bed sores?”
“Happiness.”"
- Your Power Over Me, by @wisteria-daydreamer -
A very special shout out to my lovely friend who's written one of my favorite Kinn&Vegas fics I've ever had the pleasure to read. When this line came, I literally gasped out loud, it left me speechless. The way Kinn's POV is written was marvelous and the whole conversation he had with Vegas was incredible. Check it out if you crave some good Kinn&Vegas fics, it's very, very good.
Disclaimer: I have so many fics and authors I love and I've made that clear to both them and my followers in the past. My brain could only handle doing 5 for this, but I absolutely have more than 5 that I'm obsessed with. Maybe one day I'll do a Part 2, I'll see how it goes in the future.
No pressure tagging all the following lovely people, besides the writers that have already been tagged: @wretchedamaranth, @xpi-x-elx, @fleet-off, @lu-sn, @suzteel, @tsttoain, @thisautistic, @theoldastronomer, @vegaseatsass, @adanima, @kissporsche, @raksh-writes, @nyxelestia, @yourknightofrage, @mightymightygnomepriest, @justanothervariant, @justfionn and anyone else who wants to share the love for their fave fics and authors. You can do 5 or 10 or 100, there's no limit at all ❤️❤️
#Idk how this even came to mind but I love spreading appreciation for the people who have given me so many feels so here we go#No reason necessary tbh#I can't wait to see what people will share <33#kinnporche the series#fanfic writing#writers asks
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Part Seven: Findings
First Installment: Here.
Last Installment: Here.
Current Installment: You are here!
Author's note: Inspired by the 1950s short story "The Man Who Came Early" by Poul Anderson.
Red Sail Hall, 2 days Later
Gravel began the conversation. Tires crunching over the drive appeared just before his brother’s old green Renault Clio sedan turned onto the drive, headlights low but visible between the plants currently in their roost on the windowsill above the sink. Fucking hell. He poured whiskey into two mugs of tea. The vehicle would likely contain the balance of both his siblings and his children not currently missing or half passed out on the old table.
“Matthew,” He turned away from the window and pressed the steaming mug of tea into his boy’s fingers, handle first. He was slumped over the table, too stubborn to sleep in a bed despite the blanched cast his face and the ever deepening hollows of his eyesockets. He rested on his arm and half on the pile of documentation in front of him. Every sheet of paper had come from what felt like a thousand government departments, a thousand places that didn’t know Alfred existed, or at least not officially. Matching and rematching data, looking for any number, any letter or any word out of place. It was more something to keep him busy than it was useful. He had fought leaving D.C. like a shuttle to Dulles was the same as serving as pallbearer.
Matthew roused with a start.
“Wha—?” He’d been properly asleep. Arthur felt guilty, but shuffled papers out of the way and gestured to the mug.
“I need to tell you something.”
The grogginess disappeared. He pushed his glasses up and sat straight, eyes wide, sparking with hope. “What is it? Alfred?”
“Maybe.” Arthur said. It was, but he didn’t know how it could be. Not yet. “There... there was the suggestion of a slight anamoly.”
Matt stared at him, the flat look that spoke of annoyance he rarely verbalized. “Yeah. He magically disappeared out of his space suit. We knew that.”
“Beyond that.” Arthur shut his eyes. “It was reported to me your brother may have… been a part of a slight breaking of— well it may have involved certain—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Rhys didn’t knock, he never did. Privacy hadn’t been much of a concept when they were young. He had archival boxes in his arms and they exchanged a look as the other two removed coats and boots. It was awkward when they stood, hesitant. Jack at his sister’s shoulder, Zee’s brow furrowed, doing the calculus of what she would find acceptable. He offered tea, giving himself a way out. He needs the scotch anyway, his mug almost empty. The world had long been spinning with Alfred as the axis, but a glance left, beyond him to Matthew and she let decades collapse and he suddenly had both of them in arm.
He squeezes them. Jack is so tall, warm and bundled into a sweater and unusually solemn. He’s too bloody big to hold properly but Arthur tries anyway, suddenly desperate for the certainty of the physical. But Zee he could still hold, if only barely. It was awkward, how long he held on. He didn’t want to let go. Three children in his sight, two in his arms. Three. That'd been normal once. No longer. Zee hugged him harder than she normally did, usually giving one quick and then slipping away. She knew what was in that box.
When he let go of her, he took up the whiskey decanter and poured and drank two glasses before turning around again. A surgical sheet had been laid on the table, Matthew watching, bewildered as his days work was brushed aside.
“Is that a skull?” Matthew asked, but only looked mildly surprised.
“There is…” Arthur filled his mug for the tenth time in two hours and stood to turn. He jolted, seeing his second son, tall and sharp where his mother had been— His fist went down by his side. “There was some evidence—” He couldn’t quite say it.
Zee took over, laying ribs out as anatomically as was possible on a flat surface.
“He finally let them open up the back garden for a testpit hoping they’d find some old knickknacks and they found two corpses. And one’s him.” Rhys said.
Matthew went pale. Arthur drank. “Ones— what?”
“The chalkies went around back and dug up the old man’s extra meatsack from another dimension.” Jack clarified. Arthur polished off the rest of his whiskey.
“It— it’s dad?” Matthew collapsed into a chair, looking pale. “How is that possible? How the hell do you even know?”
“Well, seeing as our genetic material can’t be tested.” Zee pointed to a slice along the small jaw line. “We removed a tooth, and a bit of the ossified cartilage.” She pointed to the sternum and Arthur put the tip of his tongue at his back molar and shut his eyes, bidding his chest to stop hurting. He couldn’t quite remember losing that tooth, it was probably before Rome had pulled away.
"The radiation confirms the date to about the 9th century but more importantly.... Solar flare radiation is very distinct."
"That doesn't imply— how do you know it's—" Matthew's voice trailed off. Several pairs of eyes aimed at him.
“We ested for oxygen isotopes and radio carbon dating and had a discrepancy between the first century and the 10th I couldn't explain with marine carbon circulation. It's him."
He needed more whiskey.
"How did it die?" He bluntly stated.
“The cut went right through the ribs.” Arthur watched, but did not allow himself recoil as Zee’s hand came down at a violent angle. Her palm and fingers flattened into the approximation of a blade and landed on the table between two pieces of bone, human ribs worn smooth by time. Supposedly his ribs. He forced his hands to stay at his side.
Zee said more, arching her hand over his spine. He couldn't hear her words but he remembered that blow. It had only been a day and change since Washington DC and nearly 5 days since the void of his missing firstborn had opened up wounds that had not existed since before Alfred did annd he wasn’t sure if he had slept more than an hour since. He crossed his arms to hide the tremor. From exhaustion or horror he did not know.
When he shut his eyes, he didn’t see his daughter’s hand but the head of an axe. He would not remember that blow, the bite of steel into his body, slicing his ribs and opening his entire body. Shoulder to the other hip.
Someone cleared their throat.
He had understood just why Magnus had named his axe undvargr. Wound-wolf. Someone cleared their throat again. He snapped back to reality. It had sheered the skull. His fucking skull. It did not have a jaw and the empty eyesockets stared at him, over the landscape of bones.
“What?” He demanded. “What are you looking at? Is it me or not!”
Rhys looked at him, concerned in that hard way of theirs, the one that equally said ‘get a bloody grip’ as much as it did ‘I’m sorry you have to see this.’ Jack was staring, his hand hovering over Zee’s shoulder, as if he was… not afraid but uncertain.
“You don’t have to do this.”
Arthur’s head turned sharply. Matthew was suddenly there, from nowehere. At his sister’s elbow, opposite Rhys. He’d put himself where he always been once upon a time. Between his father and his siblings. Mortar between the bricks.
“Don’t be stupid.” His hand went to his back and he conceded to gravity, falling into a chair. “I’ve dug up the back garden at thousand times since ten-eighty-something. My corpse hasn’t been rotting under the bloody tudor rose for a thousand years. Your brother slid out of reality and whatever that is,” He pointed to the bones. “Slid into it.”
“And that brings me to my original point.” Zee cleared her throat. “The radiation signatures match a solar flare. Not 9th century."
"What does that even mean?"
"Alfred popped off out of our reality and the old man's body popped in."
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A Funeral of Faith
Word Count: 1.5k
Aerin Valleros x Asterin Nightbloom (MMC), referenced Tyril x Asterin and Mal x Asterin
Author's Note: I am once again bringing you writing based on a random tumblr concept from someone else, this time by @itlovesinthewoods and it's an entire au with Dark Asterin
Asterin wasn't deaf. He heard the sounds of combat echoing through the Palace halls but he was honestly too busy to care. He didn't particularly need to care. He knew if their soldiers couldn't handle it then he could. He turned back to the map spread on the large table in the middle of the throne room. His finger idly traced the canyons to the south, mind already working. Maybe they could-
Click!
Asterin looked up as the door opened and a figure slipped through before quickly shutting it behind them. He raised an eyebrow, a little surprised actually. This was not who he'd been expecting, and certainly not this subtly.
"What are you doing here, Aerin?" Asterin wondered idly as he went back to studying the map. They really needed more archers at Flotilla now that he looked at it. And a bigger navy.
"Asterin?" Aerin whispered and Asterin had to bite back a laugh. "I'm uh, I'm here to rescue you?"
"You sound so sure," Asterin snickered. Maybe they could divert some from Port Parnassus?
"Well I wasn't really expecting…this," Aerin admitted. Asterin sighed and looked up, bracing his hands on the table.
"Look, thanks for the attempted rescue but I'm fine," Asterin waved off the former prince. "I'm busy now though so go defend Morella or hide under a tree or stab your friends in the back or however it is you spend your time now."
"What's gotten into you?!" Aerin demanded. He hurried to Asterin's side and grabbed his hand. Asterin raised an eyebrow at the touch but he didn't move his hand. Yet. "I don't know what Valax did to you but we need to go now. The others can only distract the soldiers for so long."
"How did you even get here?" Asterin wondered. He made his voice shake just a little and widened his eyes like he was relieved or nervous. Aerin gripped his hand tighter as if to reassure him. Cute. But what he really wanted to know was if they'd found another way to open portals because opening portals large enough for entire armies and navies was exhausting. It was why he was at the palace now, recovering instead of on the battlefield with his mother and sister.
"We made a deal with the Watcher with a steep price but none of that matters now," Aerin reached up to cup Asterin's cheek. He actually almost leaned into it. "All that matters is getting you home. We have to get back before the Empress or Valax or that new Prince shows up."
He probably could have kept playing Aerin like an enchanted violin, but a laugh left his mouth. This whole situation was absolutely ridiculous. And it was so easy. Asterin had thought he was naive all that time ago. Wow.
"Asterin?" Aerin sounded worried.
"I'm not going anywhere Aerin," Asterin snickered as he approached the three thrones at the end of the hall.
"What are you talking about?"
"Come on, you're smarter than this," Asterin sighed.
He reached the throne farthest on the right and leaned against the side of it. Each of the thrones was jagged and dark as if they were stones forced from the ground and broken into the shapes of thrones. The middle was of course the most grand, with veins of silver and obsidian shooting through it like lightning, with the top shaped like the skull of a dragon. The one on the left had small violet stones embedded into it and intricately carved armrests. The one on the right though was fairly plain compared to the other two. For now at least.
"Come now, I know you're brave and all but this is quickly approaching reckless," Aerin said.
"Let me help you out," Asterin smirked and picked up the small item sitting on the cushion and let it dangle from his finger. It was a circlet made from a strange material: dark, dappled gray than neared black, weaved with threads of silver and inlaid with stones darker than the shadows around them. Aerin gasped and stumbled back into the table like he'd been punched in the gut and Asterin laughed. "There it is."
"Asterin, please, put that down," Aerin pleaded. "Surely you can feel them."
"The Onyx Shards you mean?" Asterin tilted his head, smile widening as Aerin's face grew more and more desperate. "Of course I can. The hilt was melted down by the best blacksmiths and fashioned into this. The stones have drops of my own blood. This crown here is the best recovery tool a Realmwalker could ever want."
"Your blood or not you know better than to touch something made from the Blade of Shadow!" Aerin exclaimed.
"You are not as smart as I gave you credit for," Asterin sighed. "Let's try this one more time, shall we?"
Asterin made sure to meet Aerin's eyes as he slid the crown onto his head. It fit him perfectly, of course. It was made for him after all.
"No," Aerin realized. "No, Asterin-"
"Finally," Asterin rolled his eyes.
"You're the new Prince," Aerin shook his head as if he just protested hard enough he could erase it all. "But, no, you would never join the Ash Empire!"
"And why not?" Asterin scoffed. "Because Morella is such a great place? Because I have a family? I lost my parents twice, I'm the last surviving member of my house, and my brother grabbing that Shard like an idiot got me into all this mess in the first place."
"I had no place in Undermount while humans and orcs treated me like an outsider. I was kidnapped and tortured while my friends and two of the men I loved gave up on me and left me to die. And the other man I loved used and betrayed me for power and disappeared when I still forgave him."
"Asterin-" Aerin tried but with a look from Asterin his voice completely left him. His lips moved and his hands scrambled at his throat but no sound came out. If only Asterin had learned that spell a while ago. Served him right after casting that very spell on Asterin.
"I go on yet another quest to save an already damned Realm only to be manipulated, used, and betrayed again," Asterin scoffed. "All for a world that didn't care for me at all, not even after I saved it."
Asterin waved his hand and let Aerin have his voice back, only because of what he had to say next.
"In good conscience, I will give you and my old friends one chance to either join me or leave freely," Asterin declared. "I don't care either way. Fight for me, fight against me, go home and have a funeral for your faith. That's your choice. But I make this offer once."
"I'm not going to do any of that," Aerin argued and stormed right up to the foot of the dais. "I know what you're feeling, better than anyone ever could. This power and the idea of freedom are intoxicating. I wasn't strong enough to resist it but you are. You, you're the strongest person I've ever known. The strongest person I could ever meet. You are brave, and beautiful, and you are good. Better than I. You aren't some shadow royalty. You're Asterin, from the little town of Riverbend, who carried that light with them wherever they want. You just need to find that light again."
"You're a fool talking about light here, Aerin Valleros," Asterin said. With a wave of his hand, the doors to the throne room burst open and soldiers flooded in, dragging those old friends of his with them, all gagged and bound with iron and copper. "Welcome, my friends, my beloved, my kilvalir."
Tyril jerked forward against his bonds so hard he had to be forced back down to his knees by no less than four soldiers. Asterin cooed and waved with his fingers which just made what had to be muffled profanities spill from the mouths of Mal and Imtura as tears fell from Nia's eyes.
"Bind the disgraced Prince," Asterin ordered and Aerin was on his knees with the others in a matter of moments. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You all were always hardheaded. But thank you for telling me about your little deal with the Watcher, I’ll be sure to pay him a visit. I’m sure that bit of intel will be useful for us.”
Asterin rounded the throne, looking down on his former friends from the top of the dais and standing taller than he ever had before.
“It’s in your best interest that you learn something and you learn it fast,” Asterin told them. “That little light? The warmth of a stupid boy from a quiet village? It’s dead. Murdered and extinguished by the very person it belonged to.”
Asterin grinned as they screamed protests and begged through the gags, trying so hard to wriggle free from their chains and fight against the guards holding them in place. It was adorable. There was still so much fight in them. Though Asterin knew from experience that fight would only last for so long. He laughed as he lowered himself onto his throne, crossing his legs and lounging as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Asterin of Riverbend is dead. Long live Asterin, Prince of the Ash Empire.”
#playchoices#choices#bolas#blades of light and shadow#bolas 2#aerin valleros#aerin x mc#tyril starfury#tyril x mc#mal volari#mal x mc#nia ellarious#imtura tal kaelen#choices book club
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