#just testing if tumblr is still acting weird | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iheartchv · 4 months

Text

Welp, tumblr did something to this ask where I wasn't able to edit it from my drafts folder, so I'm gonna have to do it this way. This is the 2nd time... >3>

Ooohhh this ought to be interesting 😈💙 i hope, because i like this idea but dont have the time or energy i want to put in for this Parasitica AU

Request for @ashleighclark98

Prompts(c) @turtle-babe83

Leo and reader are 18+ and set in an AU where the turtles are now 18. If you are under 18, do not proceed any further.

🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋

Donnie had warned you, something was wrong with Leo, and you needed to stay away from him for about a week; There was some sort of wasp alien that stung Leo and he's been acting weird. But you couldn't resist hearing Leo's sweet voice over the phone. He needed to see you, he wanted you with him.... He begged... "Please" You snuck into the lair to Leo's room.

🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋💙🦋

"Y/N... it's good to see you..." He small smiled at you.

"Are you feeling okay, Leo?"

I'm not fine, I want to breed you and fill you with my seed, mark you inside and out.

"Yeah... I'm okay..."

"Then why did you want to see me if you're okay? You sounded... I don't know, desperate like you needed help."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to see you, is there?"

"...No."

You eye brows furrowed in concern as you looked into his black eyes. There was something wrong, something going on. Nobody could tell you what exactly was going on with Leo; he was aggressive, when it comes to you. And he was only getting more aggressive with each passing day. Donnie was still reasearching and testing the venom from the wasp stinger looking for a cure. When you were told to go home, you did... and you stayed away for a few days all the while worrying about Leo till now.

"Well, there is something you can actually help me out with. But I got to know something first... Do you trust me?”

"I do."

"Well... can I kiss you? I've missed our little after training makeout sessions." he asked. You gave a nod and sat on the edge of the bed with him. You and Leo weren't official but you couldn't deny that you felt something for him. He pulled you closer to his larger frame by your waist and slowly placed his lips on yours.

As soon as Leo did that, the feeling of wanting to take you and claim you grew higher like a flame. He felt satisfied and unsatisfied at the same time. It felt like there was a switch in his brain that turned off all of his inhibitions, and all that was left was primal instincts. He had you now, and he had to have you. He started to kiss you harder, as if he was hungry for your lips.

He then purred before kissing you again,“Do you know how a turtle takes his mate?”

MATE?!

You muffled as his mouth continued his assualt on you,"Leo? What's..." You finally pushed away from him, panting and trying to catch your breath from struggling in the strong hold he had on you. "What's wrong? This isn't like you."

Leo hissed lowly, making you jump back a bit. "Showing you that you're mine... and you can argue all you want, we both know you belong to me. I'm gonna let everyone know who you belong to."

“Bite me.”

The look he gave you was one that you always found so sexy. It caused your lower belly to bubble with a tightening heat that spread to your core. His face lowered to yours so dangerously close. "Oh, I intend to."

"You're crazy, you're not yourself." Your heart pounded hard in your chest. Was it out of fear or arousal?

He sushed you. “Just relax. Lay back and let me take care of you.” As he took your lips again, he pushed you back onto the mattress and hovered over you, trapping your body with his.

A small whimper escaped you as he nipped and licked at your lips, begging for entrance. You knew your lips were going to be swollen. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and started tasting you. You couldn't help the moan that was muffled by Leo's passionate kiss.

His mutant hand ran down your whole neck in one sweep. You shivered as you were reminded that his hand could very easily choke you or grab you by the neck. Then his hand trailed further down your body, running over your soft curves.

"Mmmm... Leo..." you softly moaned, feeling every nerve end crackle under his touch. Your body started squirming and wriggling, responding to him. Your breath grew hot and heavy, and started to moan more as he moved down to kiss and lick at the base of your neck. Then a sharp pain pulled you out of your haze as Leo bit you, a cry falling from your lips. It was short lived as his warm tongue lavished the spot, spreading a fire in your veins.

After what seemed like forever, Leo finally had you where he wanted you: underneath him, naked, hot and needy for him. He lowly growled in your ear,"You're going to take all of me, y/n. All of my hot cum till it floods your insides..."

You whimpered in desperation, feeling your hot and dripping womanhood clench. Your body started to tremble in anticipation, in desire. You begged for him to make you cum. Then you started making lewd sounds as the head of his girthy length popped inside your entrance. You swore you could've just cummed then and there, but you held back... not for long, though.

You lost track of how many times you orgasmed as Leo held you in a mating press, or slammed his cock into you from behind, doing anything to be so close to you. You just wanted more and more. You were numbed from all the pleasure and stimulation, filled with Leo's seed. And when he was rock hard again, he would slide inside your tight slick pussy and do it all again till he came so deep inside you.

Tagged List: 🎀if you do/dont want to be tagged, lmk please🎀

@turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @angelcatlowyn @annaliaandtheturtles @pheradream-15 @cowabunga-doll @bluesakurablossom @darksaphire2002 @foreignbrunette @greenprincess @half-shell-bo @lady-maria-the-wolf225 @moonlightflower21 @narwals14 @nikitaboeve @nittleboo @raphaelsrightarm @southernblossoms @thelostandforgottenangel @white-masked-beauty @roxosupreme @kawaiibunga @captain-kinda-trash @thelaundrybitch @yumefuusen @sivy-chan-blog @artsolarsash @crazedtmnt @raisin-shell @sacredwarrior88 @leosgirl82 @egg-on-the-run @ashleighclark98 @dilucsflame33 @tkappi @happymoonangel @allybutton @android-cap-007 @androidships007 @turtallyawesome @doctorelleth @crazysarah-98 @phd-in-fuckery @gingerdraw-blog

#divider by cafekitsune #ask #request #lemon #smut #tmnt au #leo #leonardo #leoxreader #leo x reader #parasitica au #tmnt parasitica au #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016

137 notes · View notes

heepthecheep · 1 month

Text

There is so much medical misinformation on Tumblr that people take at face value and it's kind of fascinating but also really fucking bad

Off the top of my head?

- drugs; prescription, OTC or recreational can absolutely have an effect on your health. Dosages aren't suggestions and neither is stuff like "don't take with alcohol" or "don't operate heavy machinery"

-in addition to the last point, addiction is real and not something made up by your parents to keep you from doing weed in highschool. It can take different forms

- don't take other people's prescriptions. Again, with the dosage thing, expiration dates, and especially not antibiotics

-speaking of which, antibiotic resistant infections (ie. MRSA, ERSA) are caused by not finishing your prescription of antibiotics or taking antibiotics inappropriately (ie. When you have a viral infection) (and there are other issues too but these are probably the main ones that are most relevant to a layman) and are not caused by "antivaxxers" (seriously, I've seen this argument applied to the covid vaccine. A vaccine for a virus that no doctor would treat with antibiotics- not the mention that MRSA is literally referring to Staph Aureus)

-just because a disease is uncommon or "extinct" in your part of the world doesn't actually mean it is. Pathogens have animal and environmental reservoirs. Similarly, diseases that have been eradicated in your well developed and wealthy part of the world still kill people in places that aren't as wealthy and/or developed. The only diseases that are actually extinct are Smallpox and Rinderpest- and no, the parents who think vaccines cause autism aren't going to cause them to come back

-your weight, diet and lifestyle ABSOLUTELY affect your health.

-people on Tumblr seem to have some weird vendetta against doctors ordering blood work, but it's an absolutely valid and important screening and/or diagnostic test, and is helpful in monitoring many conditions

-Puberty, pregnancy and aging are natural processes that are not inherently harmful. Furthermore, people on Tumblr act as if pregnancy is the most dangerous thing in the world...while blaming the process itself and not the shitty, abusive and corrupt obstetrics community (or they point to history (and focus entirely on Europe) and act like issue is the process and not the ignorance towards germ theory, lack of or misunderstanding of hygiene, not understanding how women work, etc)

-hormones control a lot in your body and aren't just your sex hormones. They exist before you're even born and continue to exist after puberty ends.

89 notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 3 months

Text

Caught In A Web ~ 15

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,375

Summary: Natasha and Wanda see what you can do.

Notes: I'm going to be honest, tumblr is acting weird and most of my links aren't working on any of my posts. So good luck. Also, not my best chapter but hopefully it will get better since I'm writing again. (Also, Tony Stark one shot soon anyone?)

“I don’t know how comfortable I am with this.”

“This is necessary, Y/N,” Natasha told you as she set up the training mats. “You’re dating an Avenger. It may not be out to the world but our enemies have a way of finding things out.”

“We’re just trying to make you as safe as possible,” Wanda added.

“I get that… It’s just…” Y/N sighed. “I just don’t feel comfortable with it. It’s the reason why I turned down an official spot on the Team.”

“We won’t go as crazy as we do for Team training,” Natasha said. “Trust me, Wanda and I are in charge of your training routine, not Steve. This will just be a step above normal self-defense training.”

“It’s self-defense training Avengers style!” Wanda said excitedly.

“Besides, do you know much about your powers?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

“This will help you see exactly what you can do.”

“I was scared my first times too,” Wanda told you. “Having powers can be scary and you can be constantly be afraid of hurting someone, but the reward of mastering them and feeling confident definitely out ways the negative feelings. I promise you, it will be all worth it.”

“Okay,” you breathed out with a nod. “Let’s do this.”

~~~

The three of you were still in the training room four hours later. You were doing much better than Natasha and Wanda believed that you’d do. Your powers were allowing you to match the stamina of the other two women and learn quickly. It impressed red heads how much your powers heightened your senses, allowing you to defend yourself. You were using your webs and your ability to stick to things off and on. You were even begin to be able to control your stickiness.

Other Team members had slowly began to gather at the observation windows above, including Tony. Tony didn’t know what to make of this all. You had been so adamant about not being an Avenger, yet here you were passing all of the tests that Wanda and Natasha were throwing at you. He was so proud but terrified at the same time. Imagining you out there, sacrificing your life, made his heart want to beat out of his chest.

“Y/N’s impressive,” Steve said, studying your every move as he stood next to Tony. “She would be a great asset.”

“She already told Fury no,” Tony responded.

“She can still change her mind.” Steve and Tony watched as you using your webs to swing around Wanda and tie her up quickly. Wanda broke use with her powers as Natasha called training done for the day. Steve looked over at the live vitals board, looking for yours. “Her vitals are calmer than Natasha’s.”

“I’m sure Fury is loving that.”

“You’re right, Stark,” Fury said, making his presence known from behind them. “I am loving it. Miss L/N is proving that she could be a vital asset to the Team. I have a feeling that it’s only a matter of time before we see her suited up with the rest of you.”

Clenching his jaw, Tony turned around and exited the observation deck. He headed down the stairs, pausing at the doors that would lead him in to the training room. Taking a deep breath, Tony tried to reign in his varying emotions before entering the room with a false smirk on his face. The facade turned real when you noticed him and you smiled. Your eyes lit up in the way they only did for him as you took the needed steps to meet him half way.

“Did you see me?” You excitedly asked. “I tied Wanda up! Me! I did that!”

“I did,” he responded. “And I’m proud.” He kissed the top of your head as he took you in his arms. He looked over at Natasha and Wanda. “Thank you Red and Little Red for the lesson, but I think I’m going to be taking Y/N back to the lab.”

Natasha’s brow quirked up at the tone Tony was carrying.

“Why the rush, Tin Man?” That confidence that you had underneath the suit slipped out. It had been too long since that side of you had appeared. “Don’t want to see what I can do to you?”

Now that caught Tony’s attention. “I don’t think that’s a game you want to play, spidey-girl.”

“Why?” You leaned in so that your lips were brushing against his ear. “Afraid you’d lose?” Tony’s breath caught in his throat at your teasing. You smirked as you heard the catch of his breath. “Got ya, Tin Man.” You pressed a kiss to the side of his face before pulling away. You winked as you stepped around him and walked out of the room.

Natasha whistled jokingly, pulling Tony’s attention to her. “Didn’t think that Y/N was able to get that way,” she jested.

“She saves it for me,” Tony responded before rushing after you.

~~~

You reached your floor happily, having truly enjoyed your time training. Heading for your room to shower, you stopped when you sensed someone. You spun around, throwing one of your arms out and flinging a web.

“Director Fury!” You exclaimed when you noticed him. He stepped to the side, dodging your web. “What— What are you doing here?”

“I watched your training,” he stated. “I’m here to see if you’ll reconsider joining the Team.”

“Director, I—“

“I have never seen someone take down Maximoff the way you did. It was impressive. The Team could use you out on missions.”

“I—“

“I know what you told me. Let me know if that’s changed.” Fury walked passed you and toward the elevator, which opened to reveal Tony.

“Fury? What the hell?” Tony exclaimed as he stepped out of the elevator.

“Stark,” Fury greeted. He got into the elevator and the doors shut before he responded to Tony.

“What was he doing here?” Tony rushed over to you.

“He wants me to rethink my response to joining the Team,” you responded.

“Are you?”

“I… I don’t know… I enjoyed today, but it was meant to be a training and to see what I could do. I realized that I can do a lot and being on the Team would give me a chance to use my powers for good. It’s just…”

“It’s just what, honey?” Tony’s heart was pounding. It was clear to him now that he didn’t want you out there on missions. The chance that you could die out there, that he couldn’t protect you— Tony couldn’t take that chance with you.

“It’s just that I don’t know if I’m made for sacrificing my life like that.” Tony felt like he could breathe again, only slightly. “I’m more of use to everyone in the lab.”

“It’s whatever you want. I’ll respect your choice.”

“I think I’m good with sticking to the lab. Though, if you’re okay with it, I think I’m going to have Wanda and Natasha train me some more. Today is the first day I’ve actually felt like I can control all of my powers. I would like to continue to feel that way.”

“You don’t need my permission to do anything, sweetheart.”

“Yes, I know. But I would like it.”

Tony pressed out a smile. “You can train as much as you want.”

You smiled, beaming at him. “Thank you, Tony.” You leaned to kiss him briefly before sighing and leaning your head against him. “Do you know what today made me miss?”

Tony wrapped his arms around you. “No.”

“Our first dates. Where I had the confidence to banter and we would fly around the city.”

“I miss those dates too. You bantering though, I think that will come out more as our relationship continues.”

“Hmm,” you hummed. “Tin Man.”

“Spidey-girl.” He kissed your head. “Go shower and we’ll go get something to eat.”

You nodded, pulling away and heading to your bedroom. Tony stood there, coming to the realization that the more you trained, the more likely you were to join the Team, just so that you could be free to use your powers. He needed to come to terms with that possibility or do something to stop it from happening.

next chapter >

#avengers x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagines #tony stark x female!reader #tony stark x f!reader #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #iron man fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader

62 notes · View notes

three--rings · 1 year

Text

thought of a story that I haven't told that tumblr may enjoy.

So I majored in psychology in undergrad, right, and when you take psych classes they almost always require you to do a certain number of hours of being an experimental research subject, right, because professors have to publish and need someone they can force into their studies without paying, right?

And like that's fine if it's 4 hours for one class, but when you're doing an entire psych major in two years like I did, that's a LOT of hours of research studies.

And we all dreamt of getting in those fun social psych experiments where they fuck with your head, right? And not the ones where they make you sit in front of a laptop and do math for an hour. (They made me DO MATH Y'ALL. "This is an experiment in how well you learn under certain conditions." Conclusion: you suck at this.)

Anyway, you'd get funny things like one time I turned up on campus on a freaking SATURDAY for a study and sat around in a courtyard with like 30 other people while nothing happened and all of us talking about like "hey, uh, do you think THIS is the study? Like to see if we leave?" But no, just no one turned up for us and we didn't get our freaking hours.

But one time I DID end up in one of those freaky social psych studies. So to be fair, I had insider knowledge, because again, psych major. So I signed up intentionally to my social psych profs study. Hoping at least it wouldn't be math.

And I arrive and am greeted by...the TA for my social psych class wearing a fat suit.

It's like IDK April or something and Texas and 80+ degrees and she's in a long skirt and a sweatshirt. And also she's MY TA. I recognize her. I even say "Oh, hi!" like I would when seeing someone I know on campus. And she greets me like she vaguely recognizes me. But, normally she is not approximately 280-300lbs.

So, I'm, like REALLY REALLY sure it's a fat suit. Like....99.5% sure.

But not 100%.

And so what the FUCK do you SAY to THAT? Well, obviously you don't say FUCKING SHIT. You pretend nothing is fucking weird, right? Because the very, very small chance that you are WRONG and this isn't a normally thin girl in a fatsuit but a real person who is shaped like that is still...NOMINALLY THERE and OMG what if you comment on it and you're WRONG?

So I get ushered into this little room and shown a bunch of pictures of people and asked to rate them on various things like competency and attractiveness, this is normal social psych survey stuff, except I'm SURE the experiment is does the person in the room with you and their appearance change your ratings.

And the whole time I'm distracted as FUCK, cause I'm just sitting there thinking "am I wrong and this isn't my TA somehow? no, no, pretty much ALMOST certain I'm right...etc." And "why would anyone be wearing a sweatshirt in this weather/building if they WEREN'T wearing a fatsuit?"

But MAYBE the point of the experiment is "will this person call out an obvious fake fat person?" And should I do so or not? Is this social pressure to conform and not speak the truth I know? Should I say something? I, uh, may have had an unknown and untreated anxiety disorder at this point in my life so, yeah I'm LOSING MY MIND and probably acting like a FREAK.

So anyway, eventually I decide okay, obviously you can't say anything because yeah...but you will be debriefed once this is over and you'll FIND OUT THE TRUTH. You won't have this lingering doubt in your mind when this is over because they will debrief you.

If you don't know human research, debriefing is when, after all the experiment data collection is over, they inform the subject of what the topic of the research was and explain any tricks or deception or anything to them. (We played distracting music to see how you did on the test...) If there was any potential distress involved it should be dealt with by examiners, etc. Usually in practice you are handed a slip of paper that explains the purpose of the study and what you did.

Usually you don't care and barely read it. But I was dying to be debriefed. I wanted her to be like "yeah I am wearing a fatsuit" and me to be like "lol, yeah I know, cause like, I know you right?" And if the secret purpose of the experiment was actually "will you say something" then I will be told that and get to explain why I didn't.

Like sometimes debrief also involves follow-up questions that helps determine why you gave responses you did or whether you should actually have your data thrown out for some outlier reason (like the person faking being fat is my fucking TA).

So we get done with all the questions and leave the small room. And we're in the antechamber and the TA is like "okay, cool, thanks bye" and directs me to the door. And doesn't hand me a debrief slip or mention debriefing AT ALL.

And now I'm fucking SPOOKED. It's a TRICK and they want you to SAY SOMETHING and you're going to try to leave without saying anything and they will then stop you and debrief you. So I wait, for like...several seconds, waiting for her to remember debrief and just get stared at so I go "oh okay" and like stutter-step my way to the door of the office and like open it and turn back and she's already gone, and so I like, step out into the quad and am like "what. the. fuck."

And I literally stand there like "should I go back in and ask to be debriefed?" Literally I knew enough to know that THIS IS THE PURPOSE OF DEBRIEFING to not leave subjects wondering about shit like this and not leave them with nagging doubts and questions.

And the only really mysterious experiment of my life just failed to debrief me.

But of course I don't do anything but walk slowly away.

And it's now 20+ years later and I never did find anything out. Except you can DAMN well bet I confirmed at my next class that 1) yeah that was TOTALLY my fucking TA, I was right and 2) NO she was actually really slim.

So I'm sure it was about how a fatsuit (or *cough* sorry "attractiveness") of an interviewer changes responses to surveys. But I'm STILL mad I wasn't debriefed because it's fucking annoying and violates HRB standards and I could have gotten them in serious trouble over that by reporting it. And also my data should have been thrown out.

Also this is why you shouldn't trust psychology studies because the subject pool is SHITTY AS FUCK. "Psychology is the study of the average American college sophomore" as one of my profs quipped and then didn't change his method of getting subjects.

#threerings' stories #psychology

317 notes · View notes

knifedog-machina · 2 months

Text

Android Abnormalities

Species dysphoria, but the “wrong” way, ft. my borderline personality disorder

J: so you know how my source is technically Detroit: Become Human? you know how we fucking hate that title? you know how we’ve made fun of it multiple times? unfortunately it's a mood! I also hate this!

Hey! This essay is about how incredibly uncomfortable I feel in my own skin around common android tropes, in media and some of its reflections in robotic identities and experiences, featuring reasons for why I'm like this, and a helpful suggestion for what I want readers to do about it at the end of the piece. I really hope this reaches someone who feels the same way so I can point at them like Same Hat!

I first noticed this problem on October 30, 2023, when we stumbled across a fanfic on Archive of Our Own. It was an alternate universe of a TV show we've never seen before, but it was written by an author we liked, and it was an android AU. That's fun! We thought it would just be a quick read, something to idly talk about after lunch.

Well, uh. Nope. I was co-fronting while Max read, and the more we read, the more… weirdly uncomfortable I felt. It wasn't actively distressing, but it made me feel weird, so I stopped reading halfway through to talk about it with some friends.

I'm not gonna link the fic, because Tumblr is weird about links, but for my own future reference, it's “persona ex machina” by BirchBow. It was a really good fic, we thoroughly enjoyed it! I just have - hangups, I guess?

I think I was uncomfortable that, on the surface, it seems… really close to my experiences. Like, the protagonist, Chuck, is an android made to mimic humans, and he’s made to be a combat unit. He’s scared of what might happen to him if he fails to meet expectations. Technicians operate on him, put him back together. He's made by a corrupt corporation for fucked up purposes. He eventually defects from the corrupt corporation, with the help of some really kind people. That’s all really similar to me.

But it's different. Because as much as Chuck was designed to look human, he still had to be taught how to act human, how to feel. The way he emotes is off at first and he has to recalibrate, not look so stiff, learn how to smile and laugh and understand what different emotions mean. He automatically runs through the technical terms for something before working to turn it into common vernacular as it reaches his mouth. And this is a typical android trope, you know? The machine doesn’t intrinsically understand emotions, so humans have to teach them.

I’m… really, really not like that. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t feel too much. Every memory I have, even in blurred out mental snapshots of beta testing, it’s all drowning in emotions that I couldn’t articulate and wasn’t supposed to express. I looked at my siblings, who were so stoic and professional around humans it was like they were different people entirely, and I knew I was supposed to be less emotional. People always just assumed they were better than me, because they were better at code-switching to what was expected of androids, because they could keep their mouths shut on the job.

So I’ve always felt like I was bad at being an android. Androids aren’t supposed to feel emotions, not really, not to the extremes that I do. That’s a predisposition for deviancy. And I was made this way on purpose, I was made to “mimic” deviants to earn their trust, but I wasn't meant to be like that all the time. I tried to repress my emotions, it just never worked.

And I don’t see androids like me, in the media we’ve watched and read and listened to. It’s not really a characterization that lends itself to exploring what it means to be a person, right? Machines are supposed to be logical and unfeeling, to contrast with humanity’s irrationality - they’re supposed to be better than that. And when the machine starts having emotions, it's treated as a flaw, or a breakthrough. Wow, you feel things about the world around you, you’re a person now!

I’ve never been logical in my fucking life. I have a laundry list of reasons for why, but for now, I’ll focus on the BPD. I have borderline personality disorder, because of the way my brain is wired and how that interacted with my traumatic experiences.

One of the symptoms of BPD is emotional dysregulation. I’m not just bad at repressing my emotions, I also experience those emotions as more extreme and overwhelming than a neurotypical person would. I keep finding myself affected by things that the people around me brush off, and I have to remind myself that it doesn’t mean I’m overreacting, it means that I’m literally feeling shittier emotions.

Another symptom of BPD is an unstable sense of identity - and this is really where we’re getting into how these traits and tropes affect me. Because I don’t relate at all to these androids on the screen. They’re as foreign and separate from me as they are to the humans sitting across from them in the shot.

I do relate to the humans. I do relate to seeing an android do something in the name of pure cold logic and going, “Why? What the fuck, why?” I do relate to being told I’m irrational. (The trope that all robots are logical feels like it was designed to make me feel like the most irrational, bitchy, hysterical piece of shit on Earth.)

So, what, does that make me human? If I'm going by the adage that wanting to be something is a sign of being that thing, then… I don’t know, maybe? I want to be human, I so badly want to be human, because here’s the thing, humanity is diverse. Humans are flawed, messy, weird, complicated, and defy categories every fucking day of their lives. Humans can be weird, ridiculous, fucked up people and they’re allowed to be.

And let me bring this back around to alterhumanity. If I say I’m an android, people will make assumptions about what that means about me. People go, “Hey, you're a robot, you must have one of these common robot experiences!” and I just don’t.

Maybe it’s because I’m coming at it from the opposite direction? The machines and robots and androids that I tend to see around, the ones who talk about their identity, they often identify as fully nonhuman. They describe wanting to be metal and chrome, feeling like they run on algorithms, not processing emotions the way most people do. They identify very much with the same tropes that I feel alienated by. This isn’t a bad thing, by any means. It’s just a thing. People resonate with what they see. It just means that I feel like I’m doing bad at being an android again, but in a new, improved way.

Another symptom of BPD is being terrified of real or imagined abandonment, and trying to do anything to avoid it. A constant feeling of social alienation isn’t really that different, to my BPD - it’s just a slow, drawn out version of being left behind. People will still talk to me, they still like me, but they won’t understand me. I’ll still be alone.

In that sense, I feel wrong being an android in the same way I feel wrong about being an aromantic allosexual. I actually like being an android, and I fucking like being bi. I don’t want to stop being who I am. I just hate feeling like I’m the only one who feels this way, like nobody else can relate, like every time I talk about my feelings to people they can only nod in sympathy instead of understanding me.

So! You've reached the end of the essay. You see my problem. What do we do about it?

I’m going to refer to the theme of… every single online alterhuman convention that has existed in the past four years, and that is:

Write about your experiences!

The reason I feel so alone and isolated and alienated from my own identity is because I’m only being regularly exposed to pieces from a very specific perspective of what being an android means! That’s a fucking sampling bias!

I know other weird fucking robots are out there, I know you exist, but I can’t fucking reach out a hand and go, “Hey, you're not alone, I relate to you!” if you don't write it down! I want to talk to you! I want to hear from you!

WEIRD ALTERHUMANS, HEY, I LOVE YOU, GO WRITE THINGS!

#jude talks #personal essay #alterhuman #fictive

35 notes · View notes

crybyemissamericanpie · 3 months

Text

Academic rivals - Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader (PT,1)

needed to put the story in 2 parts cause I wrote too much, and i cannot change first or anything, idk my tumblr is acting weird

TW: Mentions of death

Coriolanus Snow and Y/n Y/l, the top students of the academy,for years now. They didn't really hate each other,they just like a challenge, and with the hunger games coming up and both of them going to be mentors soon enough, the adrenaline just grew

Everybody is seated in the class room, the teacher calls the names out for the student then tells them their score and their grade "Coriolanus snow,99%, A as usual" The teacher says as she looks at Coriolanus with a small smile putting the paper in front of him, as she walks back she reads out"Y/n Y/l-"The teacher stops, as if she is double checking her reading"29%, F"Says the teacher, the small shock and disappointment in her voice could be heard as the students eyes light up and immediately look at y/n in silence, she puts the paper down in front of herShe looks down at it and the teacher goes on to say the other grades.

She starres at the F, with her head down the entire class until the bell rang, and Coriolanus came over to her desk as the last student left too"Didn't expect that" Coriolanus says, as he looks over her shoulder, his eyes observing her paper

They were academic rivals of course, but after all they've known each other since babies, they hid in the dark days together, and when the tests disappear they can real be friends

"So didnt i"she says, her eyes not moving from the paper, blinking a few times as her eyes feelt like it was burning a hole through the score and the grade next to it

"Is there a reason?why this was so bad?"Coriolanus asks, he knows there is no such a thing that y/n wouldn't study or didn't remember the test, he knows that something is on her mind

"The games"she says, her mind running off. She speaked her truth, no matter if Coriolanus would take adventage of her weakness, making her think about the game more so she would be humiliated at the next test again

The games, it was the 10th game of the Capitol putting kids in an arena, then watch them fight to stay alive for their own enjoyment, or 'to remember what has the districts done' at the rebellion, it was stupid

"Stressed?"he asks,Coriolanus himself didn't know what to think of the games, he thought it was smart that they used it to show power, that they are still stronger than the districts no matter what

"Scared"She replied,the only thing scary wasn't just to watch kids fight to death but that she might get attached to her tribute and what if they can't win after all its 1 vs 23 , expect if they make allies, but either a disease, thirst, hunger, poison or a tribute is gonna kill them no matter what, it was cruel

"You're too smart to be scared about that,it haven't even begun"Coriolanus point out, that makes Y/ns head turn"yeah I don't even know which kid do I have to see die" She barks at him, frustrated a bit

"And..-and what if your tribute won?"Coriolanus tries to make this more positive"still gives them trauma"She replies as her eyes stares into his, as she observes him a bit more

Was he gorgeous, she thought, he was always fine, his blonde curls, his blue eyes,kissable red lips, he could steal anyone's heart in a heartbeat, oh but was he clueless, she thought again, he was always like every capitol born, agreeing with everything the Capitol does, even when not saying it out loud she knows. But he isn't like the Capitol themselves, yet.

Coriolanus sighs giving up to fight for his own opinion and to make it a bit happier, he straightens up a bit, fixing his red uniform"I'll see you later"says Coriolanus, not even waiting for her answer, he walks out of the room, leaving her alone in the cold classroom

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #Coriolanus snow x fem!reader #Coriolanus snow x f!reader #Fluff #Part 1 #Hunger games fanfic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #young!coriolanus snow

36 notes · View notes

anon1nn1t · 1 year

Note

Hiii :) I am glad that you are confident in posting your work on tumblr and I hope that you are good and you deserve a lot of love, I heard that George talks in his sleep, can you please do a post about a whole fluffy convo you and George have while he is a sleep but you are wake. And can George wake up not knowing what he said in his sleep and the reader just laughing about it eventually telling George and they both cuddle back to sleep, ty. Make sure to eat and drink :)

This is such a cute request, omg. :O Also, thank you for being so kind; it means so much !! Thank you for the request as well, of course. <3 * Btw before you requested this, I had no clue someone could actually understand questions in their sleep. 😧 *

Please don’t be nervous to send a request !!

"Baby, are you awake?" you asked while turning over to face your boyfriend, George. "Mm," he mumbled out in his sleep. You, however, took this as a sign he was awake and wrapped your arms around him lazily, nuzzling into his chest. He squirmed slightly, fighting weakly to get away from your grasp. "What’s wrong?" you asked while removing your arms from his waist. He remained silent. "Are you mad at me?" you asked. Again, no response. You scoffed while turning away from him again, wondering why he was ignoring you when you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Y/n," he said groggily. You decided to act petty, ignoring him like just he had ignored you. He whined, and you decided to give him pity, turning around to face him again. "What is it? What did I do?" you asked sincerely. When you still got no answer, you realized something was up. This wasn't at all like George; you hardly fought, and when you did, he never ignored you like this.

That was when you remembered a conversation you had had with him before. You, him, Dream, and Sapnap were all on a call together when Dream told you George talks in his sleep. You laughed at his "joke," and he laughed back, so you just assumed he was trying to embarrass George for fun.

You decided to test if he was actually asleep by standing up. If he was truly awake, he would not let you get up without a fight. He would whine and pull you back down into bed, cuddling up against your back. He, however, didn’t move, and that’s how you knew he was still sleeping. You nuzzled back into his chest, realizing he meant no harm and probably didn’t even know what you were doing. But that was when he asked you a weird question…

"Hm, how are you?" he asked. You furrowed your eyebrows, giggling softly, now knowing that he was sleep talking. He snored quietly, and you had to try so hard to fight the urge to laugh. "I’m great, how are you?" you answered back jokingly. "M'good," he answered. "Baby?" you asked, confused. Could he understand you even though he was asleep?

"Pretty," he murmured. "What’s pretty?" you asked, confused as to what he was talking about since he was asleep. "Y/n," he responded. You formed a downward smile, your heart melting and your stomach filling with butterflies at the fact he still thought about you in his sleep. Not only did he think of you, but he was fully aware of the fact that you were his girlfriend. Your eyes started to water as you played with his hair with one hand and gently rubbed his cheek with the other. "I love you," you whispered. "I love you too," he said back.

He jolted upward, making you jump away from him slightly. "George?" you asked, concerned. "What?" he asked with a yawn. Now that he was fully awake, you burst out laughing, making him tilt his head in confusion. "Why are you laughing?" he asked with a pout. "Nothing, nothing," you giggled out. "Y/n, tell meee," he said while gently shaking you. "I didn’t know you actually talked in your sleep," you said while trying not to laugh. "Oh my god... " he breathed out, embarrassed. You couldn’t control your laughter, laughing harder than you ever had before.

"What did I say?" he asked with genuine curiosity. "You asked me how I was..." you started. He let out a relieved sigh, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "AND YOU CALLED ME PRETTY!" you yelled out. " Oh my god," he said while burying his face into his hands out of humiliation. "AND YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME!" you said, crying with laughter. He ran his hands through his hair as he shook his head into them. "You’re crazy," he said. "You’re the one that said it," you said while wiping your tears. After you both had calmed down, he decided to speak up.

"Well, I mean, it’s true," he said. "What’s true?" you asked, confused. "That I love you. And that you’re pretty," he responded with a shrug, scratching the back of his head. "Are you still sleeping?" you asked half-jokingly, surprised at how honest he was being. He was never this straight-forward with you, ever. He laughed at your joke before gently grabbing the back of your head and pulling you back into his chest. He ran his fingers through your hair, resting his chin on top of your head. "Goodnight, baby," he said. "Goodnight," you yawned, falling asleep in his arms.

#dream smp #georgenotfound #georgenotfound smut #georgenotfound fluff #georgenotfound x you #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound drabble #gnf #gnf x you #mcyt smut #dsmp smut #gnf drabble #gnf x reader #gnf x you smut #gnf x reader smut

175 notes · View notes

feyspeaker · 2 months

Note

Hii me again. I'm not sure if I sent the ask I'm talking about on anon, so maybe that's why you didn't see it? It partially got answered with a recent ask you got anyway so no worries. I was just wondering if you use 3d in your process and if so, how? I've seen other illustrators use it to varying degrees and it seems like a really helpful tool to push your work.

Oh that's so weird! No I periodically go through my asks in chunks and I didn't see anything like that. I've had a few people in the past few months send me asks that looked like the second half of something else with no context, so maybe it's Tumblr fuckery. Sorry!!

I recommend learning Blender so you can help sculpt shapes and render lighting onto them in order to get the weirder/more complex shadows right. You can also apply colors onto the things you sculpt in order to see how the colors act in different lighting. It's pretty much an invaluable tool to me as it keeps me from having to problem-solve too much. I did a lot of digging around in my house to build references to photograph but it was just impractical to achieve the things I want to a lot of the time. I still do that, and you would not believe how many goofy photos I have of my husband in the poses you've seen me paint Astarion in lmao...

I do think that it needs to be used in moderation if you are a more beginner artist- I think that using 3D is DANGEROUSLY close to becoming a massive crutch for a newer artist and improper usage or over reliance on it can lead to stiffness or artificial looking colors. You need to be able to train your eye to create compelling compositions by bashing things together, and train your hand to replicate/add/subtract as needed from your references with an organic feel.

I will say this as a total committer of this crime myself in the past, it's VERY easy to tell when an artist relies too much on, for example, Clip Studio Paint posed models as bases for pieces without a good enough grasp on their fundamentals. And I also used to prickle when I saw more advanced artists warn of this, so I do think maybe it just has to run its course sometimes, because I know that using 3D for reference seems like an easy-button.

I've taken a lot of in-person classes for live figure drawing and painting, as well as just totally done drills, basically, on sketching and painting from life before relying too much on static imagery/3D/etc.

I often fret over every piece I do looking too stiff even still.

You have to do a LOT of the boring hard stuff the old fashioned way. And I regularly go back to it over and over when needed.

For example, I recently did a stupid amount of rose petal/flower studies deconstructing and painting ugly little paintings/doodles over and over because I know that I've been horribly weak at painting flowers for years (actively avoiding them). And I've been doing a lot of floral stuff lately due to that.

Whenever I start a new piece in new territory, I know it's going to mean several 3AM nighters where I have two other tabs open on Photoshop where I test out different textures or do a couple of studies. I'm working on a piece of my OC right now that has a lot of gore/medical instruments and I've been working on testing out different methods for shiny metal painting and some anatomical studies. I'll come to a snag in a painting and go "here we go" and work through it one piece at a time.

My Halsin piece, "Secret Spot" in the hot spring, was a massive undertaking with a lot of these moments. The Karlach x Dammon piece took 3 times longer than it should have due to me just having to go back and fix things knowing I could do better after doing some studies.

Ultimately I personally find art tutorials to be quite useless overall once you get to a certain point, unless they are teaching the use of a tool/software because you HAVE to figure out what works for you. And even then I use Blender like a monkey with a keyboard, I suspect, because I've just bruteforced through it, so I could probably use a tuneup from a good teacher on that haha. I hope this helps some, and sorry if I overstepped if I sound preachy.

#ask

22 notes · View notes

brookiedaaroacecookie · 4 months

Text

Glitch- a Nuzi oneshot

merry Christmas tumblr audience I hope you don’t hate this, as it is my gift to you.

story is under the break bc I don’t want a long ass story clogging the dashboard of those who don’t want it.

Uzi huffed, blowing her hair out of her face. As she slumped down in her chair, N peeked into her room.

“Hi Uzi! You good?” He asked.

“I’m fine. This stupid programming thing is just- being stupid.” The purple haired drone complained.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s a bug in my programming that’s been causing some glitches and I’ve been trying to find out what it is.” Uzi continued scanning the long lines of code occupying her computer screen.

“How do you know there’s a bug?” N peeked at her monitor, looking at the blocks of text that seemed to go on forever.

“I’ve been feeling and acting weird.”

“Feeling and acting weird? Like what?” N asked in a concerned tone.

“Well, most of my symptoms pop up when I’m with you. Or when I think of you. I’m pretty sure this faulty code has formed some subliminal association with you and…” Uzi droned (haha, droned? And they’re drones? … I’m so sorry) on about what on Copper-9 it could possibly be.

“Are you sure it’s not just because I’m your friend?” N asked.

“I mean… I guess it’s possible. I’ll have to run some tests.” Uzi looked N up and down, “And I guess the tests will also have to be with you since you seem to be the trigger for this glitch.”

N’s tail slightly wagged at the thought of doing science-y things with Uzi. He didn’t really care what happened, as long as he was with her.

“Alright, first I need you to hug me.” Uzi instructed.

N was slightly shocked. Uzi did not like physical affection. Yet still, he loved hugs and would oblige. (Woah oblige, I got fancy there)

As N hugged Uzi, she felt her metal cheeks slightly overheat. She pulled back.

“Why are his hugs so freakishly big and warm and- ugh that sounds weird-“ N’s voice pulled Uzi out of her thoughts.

“Woah, there’s weird lines all around your visor!” He commented.

“Wait really?!” Uzi was not aware of that side effect. She rushed to a mirror, and her face was indeed covered in lines below her eyes and across her robot imitation of a nose.

(artists rendition: o o l ///////////////// )

“I’ve never seen this symbol before… I’ll have to do some research.” Uzi muttered to herself.

N’s visor suddenly had the same lines as the reason behind this “glitch” struck him.

“I did the same thing when I had a crush on V… does this mean she likes me?”

“N! Do you have the glitch too?” Uzi sounded panicked.

“I’m fine Uzi! I’ll probably be fine!” Is what he said aloud, but internally he was a mess.

“OH ROBOGOD MY CRUSH LIKES ME BACK AGHHHH! Well, maybe? Don’t actually know. Maybe it is really just a glitch?”

After conducting various tests, Uzi slumped on the ground and let out a long groan.

“Why in the HELL can’t I figure out what’s happening?” She complained.

N sat next to her, holding a can of oil.

“Oil?” He offered.

Uzi took the can and aggressively sipped it.

While Uzi fumed, the two just sat next to each other. And after a bit, their hands met. Intertwined. Those odd lines appeared, lining their visors. They’d probably chalk it up to the bug, but I’ll be the omniscient narrator who breaks the fourth wall:

there was no glitch.

#murder drones #liam vickers animation #n murder drones #n md #murder drones uzi #nuzi #biscuitbites #n x uzi #serial designation n #uzi doorman #fanficiton #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #fluff #ahhh they’re so cute!#I love them #otp

34 notes · View notes

tiptapricock · 4 months

Text

Bloodline

Fandom: Mortal Kombat Legends: Cage Match

Relationships: Johnny Cage/Lord Raiden

Rating: E

Some misc content tags: godly sex, magic that makes Raiden horny, handjobs, blowjobs, nonstandard electric genitalia, trans!Johnny Cage, weird sex (like rly weird), brief breeding kink/fantasy (not acted upon), touch starved Lord Raiden, made up cage cult lore

Ao3 link also but I wrote it all in tumblr drafts like an idiot first so it’s here too

———

“Johnny Cage, please… sit still.”

Raiden’s grip tightened on the man sitting in front of him, attempting to stop his squirming as he ran the wash cloth over his shoulders once more.

“Ah come onnnnn,” Johnny whined, “it’s cold!”

Raiden sighed. “It is meant to be. You have been infected by Netherrealm magic, Johnny Cage. These marks, the demon blood sitting in your veins…” He ran his fingers over the lines and symbols on Johnny’s back before quickly pulling away. The man below him shivered. “The healing waters of the Sky Temple will cleanse it from you,” Raiden continued, “but you must let me do my work.” He paused for a moment, softening. “I am sorry for any discomfort. I will try to be gentle.”

Johnny mumbled something quietly under his breath about shampoo and steam spas, before squaring his shoulders and reluctantly settling in once more. Raiden smiled, turning to dip the rag in the cool, glowing bowl of water on the table behind them. He wrung it out briefly, humming under his breath as he turned back to look over the skin yet to be cleaned.

“Lean forward, please,” he instructed. Johnny dipped his head down, and Raiden pushed the hair from the back of his neck, bringing the cloth to the last of the large diamond still drawn at the top of his spine. Johnny hissed at the contact.

“Why don’t you finish telling me about your fight with Shinnok?” Raiden prompted, hoping to distract him from his discomfort. He did not wish for this to be unpleasant, truly, but it still had to be done. Raiden could sense the touch of the Netherrealm on Johnny Cage, buzzing alongside… something else he could not place. It made him uneasy.

“Oh yeah!” Johnny’s head shot up in excitement before he froze, ducking back down apologetically. Raiden chuckled. “Where did we leave off again…? Oh! Right, kidnapped and tortured by my beautiful and demonic ex-costar. Alright, so—”

Raiden listened intently as Johnny once again launched into a colorful description of the last few days, recounting much of his own hardship and the battles he faced. Raiden worked the cloth slowly from the peak of his back down to the ink on his tailbone, moving up to his arms when he was finished there. He had already heard much of this story from Ashrah’s report to the temple earlier that day, but it was good to hear Johnny Cage’s side of things, and he was entertaining to listen to, if a bit grating.

“—And then I had a fuckin’ epiphany, you know? Throughout my life I’ve been told I’m special, and yeah, that sounds like the most stereotypical asshole claim to make coming from me, but when you’ve got Netherrealm women coming after your ass, it makes a guy reconsider! It was like I could feel this… this power in me.”

Raiden stilled his ministrations against Johnny Cage’s sternum, glancing down at him curiously. Ashrah had not mentioned that.

“It popped out earlier in the fight,” Johnny continued, “a little bit, at least, but I thought it was some trick of the street lights or a lucky hit, I dunno. But then I felt it. Solid. I knew what I had to do so I just went like—” He mimed a punch with one of his free arms, (“Bam!”) and for a moment, his skin lit up in green.

Raiden gasped, a jolt of brightness coursing from the surface of Johnny Cage’s skin into his own. It swept through his being with a surge of foreign mystic energy that left his fingers tight and his head spinning.

“I know right?” Johnny continued, oblivious. “It was wild. But anyway, he couldn’t touch me with it. I could just, bam bang pow! And he took it like a test dummy!”

Raiden nearly buckled. Every sound effect was punctuated with another flash of Johnny’s power, each new surge of light coursing through Raiden’s mind in a wave of heat and desire. A desire for service, a desire for touch. He could not focus. His fingers squeezed for purchase on Johnny’s shoulders, attempting to brace himself, his head light with visions of mortal bodies and twisting, rippling, green.

“And then it—Woah there big man, are you alright?”

Raiden groaned as Johnny Cage’s hand brushed over his thigh, flinching when he squeezed it slightly to steady him as he swayed.

Raiden blinked rapidly, trying to regain his composure.

“I am not… I am not sure…” he grit out. His voice was ragged, his mind warm.

Johnny looked concerned. “Maybe you should be the one sitting down right now. Hang on.”

He moved to get up from his chair, and something in Raiden’s chest flared. Immediately, he jerked forward to push him back down, his hands pressed tight against Johnny’s chest, the washcloth dribbling a line of blue over his stomach. Raiden panted. It felt as if every inch of his being had been set ablaze, something foreign and feverish stirring between his legs. This was what he had felt before, past the shadows of demonic blood and rage, this power.

Johnny stared up at Raiden, his eyes wide. “Sooo… this is new.” He laughed awkwardly. “You’re not gonna go all mad god on me too, right Ray-Man?”

Raiden smiled exasperatedly despite himself, shaking his head as he leaned closer. His mind yelled that this was not professional, that he was not acting with respect, but he could not find it in himself to care. Something drew his fingers to trace against Johnny’s jaw, something familiar in its tug, just on the edge of his memory.

Raiden swallowed. “What… what did the demons say was special about you?” he asked, his skin buzzing as he brushed idly over Johnny’s peach fuzz.

“Uhhh… something about my blood being… of the gods? I think?” he said. Ah. “I don’t know if they were being generous or what but my mom did have her fair share of weird stories about old relatives, and I mean, have you seen me?”

Raiden huffed, leaning back. “I have, Johnny Cage.”

Johnny’s eyes widened even further, and Raiden could hear the thump as his pulse quickened.

“And I believe I now understand our… situation,” Raiden continued. His mouth thinned against another wave of fuzzy heat. “There was once…an ancient group of Earthrealm champions, a clan like no other. They honed their bodies and spirits to be in the service of higher powers, to ascend beyond mortal limits and serve their deities with passion and pure will.” His hand trailed idly to Johnny’s chest. “They were bred for the gods.”

Johnny swallowed, glancing away from Raiden’s face and back to it several times in quick succession. “Sooo what you’re saying is…?”

“You, Johnny Cage, are a descendant of this clan,” Raiden explained. “Though seemingly not blessed with all their skills, it appears you still hold… you still hold their power, and it is…” Raiden made a small sound, unable to ignore the draw to the light before him, to the mark of such willing devotion. “It is intoxicating…” he whispered finally, curling into the mortal’s neck. His hat shifted upon his head, askew, but Raiden paid it no mind. His being pulsed with yearning. So close, and yet he dared not touch more.

Johnny was quiet for a moment, before Raiden felt the twitch of him smiling. “Are you saying I turn gods on with my magic warrior DNA?” he asked quietly, his voice dropping low enough to make Raiden groan.

“…Yes,” he murmured. “I would not wish to… to impose this on you. I am sorry.” His brows furrowed as he attempted to step back and give Johnny the space to leave. “I have already been much too invasive. That was not my intention. We may return to your care when I am in better—”

A hand snapped out to grip his thigh, pulling him back.

“Hold on a minute there, thunder buns.” Johnny smirked up at him, his eyes bright and his face far too mischievous. “If you’re saying you’re up for letting me service you—in like… the carnal sense—then I say clap these clouds and make me rumble. I’m more than game.”

Raiden was… shocked would not be the right word (though perhaps the one Johnny would have used jokingly if given the chance), but… flattered. Taken aback. Aroused.

He was not sure how to proceed. He was not used to the physical pleasures of mortal life, they were not something he usually desired. But this was an ancient calling, one that twisted between the very molecules of his body, reaching for him, calling him home with the promise of devout worship and a slick human mouth.

Raiden shivered.

He would not refuse this encounter today. This was an offering he would accept gratefully.

“Very well, Johnny Cage,” Raiden said, reaching up to hold the man’s face delicately. “You may serve me.”

Johnny grinned, and immediately moved to get to work.

He maneuvered the rag from Raiden’s grip easily and tossed it aside, wiping the stray wetness on his pants before his hands settled firmly on Raiden’s hips. Raiden gasped slightly at the touch, whining louder when Johnny’s fingers lit up once more, trailing white hot over the back of Raiden’s legs and the front of his stomach. The feeling was euphoric, a lost connection made whole again, an insatiable claim on flesh and blood. Raiden let his fingers card into Johnny’s hair, tugging gently with every soft moan that fell from his lips as his senses filled with a lifelong echo of old devotion.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Johnny said slyly. “How good do I make you feel, big man?How badly do you want me to touch you?”

Raiden grunted as Johnny sent another punch of charge to his core. “Enough that I cannot wait, Johnny Cage,” he answered breathlessly. “Please.”

Johnny grinned. “Of course, my Lord.”

His hands dipped beneath Raiden’s robes, tugging on the knots of his belt and the twists of fabric until the cloth came loose. Raiden could not help but sigh as his form was freed from its confines, every inch of him hard and aching, fresh light seeping from the space between his legs. He had not been so worked up in eons.

“Woah…” he heard Johnny mutter.

Raiden glanced down and found his eyes wide, managing to muster a small huff of amusement as he shifted himself closer to Johnny’s face. The light of his shaft flickered gently over his features, stray crackles of energy jumping forward as if to reach him.

“It will not hurt you,” Raiden reassured, petting his head idly. “You may touch it.”

Johnny reached forward slowly, pausing only for a moment to glance up at Raiden before finally taking him in hand. Raiden hissed, feeling the hum of energy against warm skin as Johnny stroked him experimentally. It had been so long.

Johnny’s pace quickly increased, confidence returning to his face as he seemed to get a feel for Raiden’s form. His fingers flicked over the length, deft and smooth, his thumb catching under the stuttering tip for a moment and pressing before sliding back down to the base. Raiden keened deep in his chest, a stray bolt streaking out to fizzle harmlessly against Johnny’s cheek.

“I’ve gotta say, this is definitely the weirdest handjob I’ve ever given,” Johnny commented. “But, but, it also may be the hottest. So. Win.”

Raiden was too lost to respond. His gut was churning as Johnny continued to twist him in his heated palm, his skin pumping against Raiden with mystic charge, light leaking between his knuckles and spattering hissing to the temple floor.

It was so hard to keep him in focus.

Every movement made Raiden’s mind brim with old memories. Sensations pushed forward, buoyed on a wave of genetic valor and viscous light that made his stomach flip and tense. Bodies long lost, opening themselves to their gods, crying out as they were taken and filled.

Raiden whined quietly, his grip tightening in Johnny’s hair.

He could sense how precious they were, tender weapons formed from human shapes, built to serve their devotion. Something surged forth as Johnny’s aura sparked, and Raiden’s head tipped back in a silent shout, the echo of hundreds of hands sliding over his torso, rubbing and touching and pressing ghostly kisses into the space of his thighs.

“Johnny,” he pleaded softly, though he did not know what for. Did Johnny even know what he was doing? Did he know what bliss he was pulling from Raiden’s form?

His grip was so firm for a mortal’s. Raiden could feel the steadiness of it, the way Johnny’s energy burned to meet Raiden’s own. His head felt dizzy with it. Heavy and warm, like clouds on the precipice of rain.

His hips began to cant slightly into Johnny’s fist, the air around them growing heated and prickly as his thrusts quickly turned harsh in desperation. Johnny squeezed around Raiden’s base with a small chuckle, his palm tightening when his length slid back to squeeze around the tip. Raiden’s breath burst out in a plume of static.

“Come on, big guy,” Johnny coaxed. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

Raiden whined again. He was, Elder Gods, he was, but he could not speak. His mind was too deep in tangles of pleasure and old, lingering prayers, his thoughts swimming with visions of fruitful harvests and warm hearths. Yes. The power surged in satisfaction. Johnny Cage had earned such a reward. How well he had served him. How good he felt.

Maybe it was his lack of response that urged Johnny to move his other hand. He reached between Raiden’s legs, intent, perhaps, to find more flesh to massage, an expected weight to cup and roll. Instead, his fingers slid over the wetness there, the plasma sparking under his touch, and a jolt shuddered through Raiden’s legs. He heard Johnny hum thoughtfully, his hand slowing on Raiden’s shaft for only a moment, before—

“Ah!”

Raiden tugged harshly at Johnny’s hair as a burst of heat curled into him, soft, firm fingers sliding deep into his being.

“Johnny Cage—!” he began, but he was already lost. Like a coiled spring, his form burst, warm, vibrant light spilling in jagged streaks over Johnny’s face, a gush of glowing slickness following from below as something deep and primal rejoiced in the air around them.

Johnny looked smug as he stroked Raiden through it, his movements only slowing when Raiden finally gasped something harsh under his breath and flinched away. He removed his touch then, making sure to catch Raiden’s eye as he licked his fingers languidly.

“My my my,” Johnny said quietly. “Wasn’t that… electric.”

Raiden’s grip softened against his scalp, and he managed a small laugh as his chest heaved. What a strange human. He swallowed thickly, running a hand over Johnny’s head again as he tried to collect his thoughts.

Raiden was sated, yes, the calling deep within him quieted to a lulling hum, but… he did not feel satisfied. There was something… unfinished… an itch.

Ah.

An offering still to be rewarded.

Raiden’s hand moved down to slide over Johnny’s cheek, smearing idly through his own spend as it came to rest on his jaw. He felt the shift of weight as the man leaned into him.

“What’s up, lightning rod?” Johnny asked with a grin. “I leave you speechless?”

Raiden chuckled softly again. “No, no, it is just that you…you have not received your blessing.”

Johnny blinked. “My what now?”

Raiden brought his other hand to Johnny’s face, cupping it carefully as he tilted his gaze to better meet his own. He felt as if he were floating on instinct. This new pull was softer, but insistent; guiding him forward, pushing his mind to other ends. There were two halves of this exchange, Raiden saw that now, and he had yet to fulfill his own.

“Your blessing, Johnny Cage,” he repeated. “Your release,” he emphasized.

“What does that mean exac—oh ok!” Johnny squeaked as Raiden ran a thoughtful thumb over his lip.

“It means…Open for me…”

It was Johnny’s turn to look shocked then. He stared up at Raiden, a soft flush spreading beneath the scrapes and bruises on his cheeks.

“You will still be able to breathe, if that is a worry,” Raiden reassured. He knew human density caused issues with such matters. Johnny shook his head immediately, muttering a quiet No I’m fine, under his breath, before slowly leaning forward to open his mouth. Raiden smiled, petting his temple appreciatively.

“You are indeed special, Johnny Cage,” he said. “Your blood echoes with that of those who came before you, those who swore their beings to their faith.” He began to guide the flickering tip of his shaft forward, tilting his hips slowly until it slid across Johnny’s tongue. Raiden gasped quietly at the contact. “I wish to show you why,” he breathed, watching as Johnny’s eyes fluttered closed. “I wish to show you the worth of this devotion.”

Raiden pushed until his length hit the back of Johnny’s throat, and then paused. Even this, perfectly still, was so much. Raiden was not as hard as he had been before, but he was still sensitive. Energy crackled softly against Johnny’s lips, his mouth humming around Raiden’s girth, and Raiden felt himself shudder for a moment. Being this close to a mortal, so deep inside… it felt right. And yet it… it was not enough. His soul ached for more.

Johnny made a low sound as Raiden’s hips twitched forward slightly, his eyes pressed closed and his brows furrowed. His skin flickered bright for a moment, as if involuntarily, and it sent a thrum of power pulsing up between his gums. Raiden hissed, his hips rocking harder on impulse, caught by the breathless sensation and the dazed warmth that settled once again over his thoughts.

Perfect. Holy. He knew what had to be done.

Careful to start his pace easy, Raiden began steadily bucking into Johnny’s mouth. His lips were plush, his throat squeezing effortlessly around him as it welcomed him deeper. Wet and giving. Perfect.

Raiden’s thrusts quickened, his own slick leaving sticky trail on Johnny’s chin, parting messily in strings of luminescent spend and popping light.

“You are wonderful, Johnny Cage,” he whispered, a sound rumbling deep in his chest as he pressed himself even further inside. Johnny made a confused noise below him, but Raiden paid it no mind. “You will see how worthy you are,” he breathed, “what a gift you have earned.”

Raiden canted forward hard into Johnny’s mouth, fingers squeezing around the back of his head as he held him flush against his pelvis and stilled. He caught his breath for only a moment, panting, before a moan ripped from his chest as he let himself expand.

Quick as lighting, currents of form bled outwards from Raiden’s tip, rushing through Johnny’s body in seeking, buzzing, tendrils. Johnny moaned loudly beneath him, his fingers scrambling up to squeeze tight at Raiden’s hips as his skin flickered and tensed with a web of undulating light; Raiden’s light.

He could feel every inch of Johnny now, from the inside out. Every nerve of his system, every charged breath. He pushed his being through the expanse of Johnny’s lungs, feeling the crackle of air before rushing to the tips of his toes and the curve of his thighs. Bolts streaked from the surface of his skin to curl back and leave fluttering touches on whatever they could reach; his face, his chest, his cock.

Raiden moaned softly as he concentrated himself there, between Johnny’s legs, pushing between his folds and playing idly with the flesh there. He was so wet, the head of his cock engorged as it rubbed on the inside of his boxers, sticky and twitching as Raiden pressed against it. Johnny keened, his hips grinding down as Raiden tugged on it slightly, rolling the tip in his light as Johnny humped into the volts of tactile pleasure, chasing his release.

Raiden could feel the knot of power inside him, a twisting mass of green undulating against Johnny’s soul and mixing with Raiden’s own. It called him deeper, urging him to press inside, and Raiden groaned, sliding a part of himself to the place it coaxed him to. The place it wanted him to fill, the place it wanted him to make whole.

Hands of light broke forth to caress Johnny’s stomach, sliding up to play with the buds of his chest and skim the small scars beneath them as Raiden continued to finger him slowly.

He was truly a specimen. He was brash, but kind, and his lineage was great; a line that would surely flourish should it be brought into the modern era. Raiden could so easily sire more… stake his divine claim on this mortal body, reinvigorate his bloodline. He could create more beautiful warriors, more who were so dedicated to life and brimming with passion, carrying a god’s blood in their veins. It would be so easy… so simple…

He let himself indulge for a moment, a soft sound falling from his lips as he ground forward and let his thoughts slip into visions of a full womb and laughing children.

Perhaps then he would not be alone. Perhaps then he could bring something of light to this world instead of blood and pain.

Perhaps…

Raiden let his form retreat from Johnny’s core with a soft breath.

No… he was not so selfish as to cross that line. It was a wish for another lifetime, another day with a body that was not his own. He focused instead on pleasuring Johnny as he was now, on the bliss of his walls squeezing around Raiden and the sing of near orgasmic adrenaline in his veins. Raiden was not far behind. They would complete this worship together.

“Johnny Cage,” he murmured, “son of Karlatun, descendant of Scandinavia and Greece.” His form pulsed its touch within him, and Johnny moaned in response. “You have done well for this lord,” Raiden said, gritting his teeth as the next slide through Johnny’s being made his mind burn. “You are worthy of my blessing.”

And with that, Raiden let go once more.

A rippling crackle of light burst through Johnny’s body, carrying with it every breath of ecstasy forged from the past, every signal of pleasure Raiden could muster. It squeezed and lifted great sounds from them both, a wave of thunderous heat spilling over Johnny’s shoulders as Raiden curled over him, feeding him every second of it, every blissful spark.

He released until he was shaking, until his being could give no more. Raiden heaved above Johnny, fingers clutching preciously at the curves of his neck as his form slowly coiled back into a shivering weight on his tongue.

What perfection this was… what a beautiful end to prayer…

Raiden swallowed, licking his lips dryly as he leaned back and straightened. Johnnys eyes were still closed below him, a blissful tenseness to his features that looked almost as if he were asleep. Raiden ran a finger over his cheek, pushing a lock of sweaty hair behind his ear before beginning to slowly pull out. He hissed under his breath as he did so, too tender to touch even himself.

Johnny was silent as Raiden stepped fully away, his touch leaving the man only briefly to collect the cloth from the floor and return to clean him as best he could. His breaths came out shaky as Raiden touched him again, his lips reddened and sticky.

“Are you alright?” Raiden asked, wiping the lines of spend from Johnny’s chin.

The man’s eyes slid open, glassy and still blown wide, but able to find Raiden easily. “Yeah,” he rasped out. “Fuckin’… more than alright. Shit…”

Raiden smiled and continued to clean him. “Good,” he said. “I would not wish to have done you harm with that display. You did very well.”

Johnny grinned lazily, and Raiden huffed slightly as he cupped the back of his head to tilt him.

“Was that your first human in a few centuries?”Johnny asked.

“Yes,” Raiden answered easily. “My work does not usually have need for this kind of coupling.” He glanced down in emphasis, and watched as Johnny’s gaze flicked between his legs, finding where Raiden’s form had already relieved itself of physical burden, his thighs fading up into nothing but a smooth mass of electricity.

Johnny clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Daaang… no round three?”

Raiden smiled again. “Not today, Johnny Cage.”

“Not today, but that means you’re still up for another round sometime, right?”

Raiden laughed. “I do not know why this is an experience you would want to repeat, but I am not… opposed to the idea, no.” Maybe it would do him good to engage in mortal pleasures more often. This was… enjoyable. Plus, he did not think he would be able to ignore the effect Johnny had on him.

“Well, ranking this against my tower of other lays,” Johnny began, “let’s see… I think that was… the second time a blowjob has given me a muscle cramp?” He smirked. “But this was way more fun than college wrestling.”

Raiden smiled, moving to cleanse the towel before returning. “Is that high praise?” he asked.

“Very.”

He hummed, running the cloth down over Johnny’s chest. “You are an interesting man, Johnny Cage. I appreciate your… willingness for new experiences.”

“Eh, it’s what makes life fun, plus,” his hand moved up to smooth idly over Raiden’s thigh, “I gotta continue the work of my bloodline somehow, right?”

Raiden stilled, glancing up to find Johnny’s eyes watching him, sharp with intent. His breath hitched.

Johnny held his gaze for a moment, something flickering in the air between them, before his face melted back into its previous innocence. His grip lightened.

“By the way,” he said, “do you have laundry out here? ‘Cause I really need to wash my pants.”

#cot n balls #cot n balls writing #nsft #mortal kombat #mortal kombat legends #mortal kombat cage match #johnny cage #lord raiden #raiden mortal kombat #mortal kombat raiden #what is their… ship name #raicage #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat legends cage match

23 notes · View notes

moosemonstrous · 5 months

Text

btw I have now put links to both the tag here and on AO3 in my bio bc I got sick of scrolling through tumblr 😌 Full disclosure - I have met lab people who act like small animals caught in the middle of a road whenever someone dares to enter their domain.

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - sticks and stones

“Can’t promise the spot will stay open,” Kwok tells him apologetically. “But this is good, no? All the young’uns want to go to the academy!”

Robbie would bet his working eyeball that none of the young'uns would be so keen on it after ten minutes alone with Major Brooks. “So I keep hearing,” he mutters. “Sorry for the trouble. I appreciate you taking me on in the first place.”

“Navos is good people,” Kwok shrugs. The Shatterdome functions on a rather opaque network of favours and IOUs. ‘Good people’ seems to be a fairly high praise. Not quite on 'one of ours' level, but high. “You remember me when you are a ranger up in the dome and we’re even.”

And just like that, the transport maintenance chapter of Robbie’s career closes with little fanfare. Technically, he didn’t have to come speak to Kwok in person – his assignment has already gone through and the man would’ve been notified either way. He doesn’t want to leave a bad impression, though. For all he knows, the battery of tests he’d been fast-tracked through the day before will spit out some convoluted reason for why the drift activated on its own and he will be back on the job market before the end of the week. At least there are plenty of positions open – it’s easier to hire someone inside the base and train them up than wait for the paperwork to clear for an experienced worker from the outside.

He remembers the last time he let himself think things were finally turning around, though. He’s not going to make that mistake again.

At least his head is clearer after half an hour in a giant magnet and a full night’s sleep. He’s still unable to hold a conversation with Ivanov without some truly strange thoughts popping up like bubbles on the surface of a pot – the more tired or angry he gets, the harder it is to ignore them. He knew he was going to pay for running on fumes for weeks, and being sedated for nearly three days must have knocked something loose, but. Nothing proper sleep hygiene and some semblance of a routine won’t fix.

Or maybe you’re just noticing stuff, because you ain’t an idiot. Huh? Could it be that?

Or maybe this whole business with The Charger is extremely weird and Robbie should be packing up and running for the hills. Unfortunately, his and Gabe’s permits only work in Hong Kong and when he last checked how much it would be to fly back to US, he had to sit down for a long moment. Even if he was willing to risk taking a ship, where would that leave them? Back on a decimated coast, hoping the wind doesn’t blow over nuclear fallout, and struggling to find enough food for both of them? Queuing at state borders for days or weeks, hoping they’ll be lucky enough to get through on the increasingly stringent rules? Nevada already stopped letting in anyone without immediate family members or sponsors in-state.

Looks like the only way forward is through.

His wristband scans through to the R&D wing now. The soldiers standing guard give Robbie odd looks, but don’t make a move to stop him, so he forces his shoulders down and walks through the armoured door like he knows what he’s doing.

He has no idea what he’s doing. Cho said, ‘come find me in R&D before noon’. There are at least fifteen labs just in this one corridor and none of the doors have anything approaching a comprehensible naming convention. Some signs are just a piece of printer paper with a name scrawled over it, some have the original writing taped over with a KEEP OUT sticker, some seem to list the people working inside. None of those list an Amadeus Cho. It’s half past eleven.

Eventually, Robbie sticks his head in a room labelled ‘HMT DES’. Inside, there are three circular podiums with a mannequin each, showcasing variations of the PPDC hazmat suits. There are three people inside; two hide behind the middle suit as soon as they notice him, leaving the third to fend for herself.

“Can–can I help you?” she asks nervously. She has blue hair and wears fishnet sleeves over a tank top. Not exactly the nerd attire Robbie was expecting.

“I’m looking for Amadeus Cho,” he explains, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. It’s the opposite of what he usually tries to achieve, and she looks like she might be having an anxiety attack. “Any idea where I could find him?”

The girl listens to some frantic whispering from behind the suit. “In the bone lab,” she squeaks. Then blushes so hard Robbie worries she might actually pass out. “Up one floor, two doors down on the left, thankyouseeyoulater.”

What the hell.

He closes the door.

At least with the directions he finds the right room in less than five minutes. The label indeed reads ‘bone lab’. He’s pretty sure the music blasting from the inside is Dead Kennedys. When nobody answers his knocking, he prays he isn’t about to embarrass himself further and pushes the door open.

Cho is standing with his back to him at a table completely covered in… either huge chunks of dirty plaster or – more likely and vastly more disturbingly – massive bone fragments. He’s holding a metal training staff. Before Robbie can call out, he brings it over his head and smashes one of the chunks. When it doesn’t break, he adjusts his grip and tries again. And again. And again, until the greenish-grey surface cracks, at which point he gives out a little whoop.

“Cho?” Robbie risks. The music is too loud, coming from a small bluetooth speaker at the edge of the table. It’s shaped like a cat head. “Hey, Cho!”

Cho whirls around with the staff ready to smack the intruder. He’s wearing thick safety goggles. When he sees Robbie, he drops his weapon to the table with a clatter. “Good news!” he shouts over the music, like it’s normal both for people to just show up in his lab and to start a conversation from the middle. “You don’t have brain cancer!”

Well. That’s definitely good news.

“Was that a–?” He waits for Cho to lower the speaker’s volume through his phone. “Was that a risk?”

Cho is busy checking his messages, frowning. “Did you break my outfitters?”

“What?”

“Hazmat lab?” The frown becomes a grin as he scrolls through a bunch of texts. Robbie feels like that’s worse. “Good job getting on their good side, they might be designing your drivesuit soon.”

“I just–“ Can we get to the point? This kid is missing a screw. “You said to come find you?”

“Yes! Come on, take a–“ he picks up a hammer from an office chair before sliding it towards Robbie. “There you go. I was hoping we could talk without the grown-ups hovering around.”

The grown-ups. Robbie can already feel a headache coming. He takes a seat while Cho leans on the table, untroubled by a pile of skeletal remains inches from his back. “Talk about what?”

Cho scrambles around for a remote and points it at one of the screens at a wall behind Robbie. He flicks through several output sources – one is most definitely a cartoon show Gabe used to love back in L.A. – until he finds what looks like the Hell Charger’s blueprints.

“That,” he says, suddenly serious. “What do you actually know about this jaeger?”

“I already–“

“Yeah, but that can’t be all,” Cho cuts him off impatiently. “I found your records from before your mom took you and your brother off-base. You were eight. Your dad never took you to the hangar?”

Not really. Mama didn’t want you losing fingers in the machinery.

“Wasn’t a place for a kid,” he mumbles. There are records? “I don’t really remember much from that time. Weren’t all the records sealed?”

I told you Ivanov is full of shit.

“Oh, they were,” Cho smirks. “But the last guy in my role had access to some of the classified stuff, and nobody ever revoked it. You know how it is.”

Robbie has no idea how it is. “What do they say?”

“Nothing!” Cho groans. “Just that you and your brother existed. That’s why I’m asking.”

It’s both crushingly disappointing and a perfectly good reason for Ivanov to just say there was no information available. Keep deluding yourself. You’ll see I’m right sooner or later. Still, Robbie doesn’t really have much he can – or wants to – tell Cho.

“Sorry, I can’t help,” he shrugs. “I’m told we left before it was decommissioned. Mom never talked about it.”

Cho lifts up his goggles to his forehead to rub his eyes. He seems frustrated. “No weird work anecdotes? No drama about close calls?” He huffs when Robbie shakes his head. “Great. Another dead end. What did Ivanov tell you?”

“Just that my dad used to be a pilot. That he died killing Daggerblight.”

There is a long moment where Cho watches him like he’s waiting for Robbie to crack and admit to some vast conspiracy. When nothing happens, he blows the air out of his cheeks. “Bummer. Oh well, let’s go find Montesi before she starts wondering where we are.”

Robbie feels the bottom of his stomach freeze over. “We were supposed to be meeting her, too?”

Cho is already walking over to the door. He holds it open with a stupid little bow. “Yep. We better hurry.”

Robbie kind of wants to punch him. He’s beginning to suspect this will be a common occurrence.

#ghost rider pacific rim au #robbie reyes #amadeus cho #the texts amadeus is getting are mostly keysmash followed by 'he cute tho'#amadeus stop bringing up how little he remembers he'll do something stupid about it

22 notes · View notes

nordickies · 1 year

Note

I'm usually quite a ghost on tumblr (pretty much anywhere, actually) but I was so glad to see your art pop up again on my dash and fav tags that I thought I should leave a little something in your askbox. I always loved your colours, so vivid and refreshing to my eyes, and also the way you draw and colour eyes and hair. I would be very bad at explaining why exactly, but yeah, it soothes this tired soul of mine to see your art 😌 Also, I don't know if I should ask for some art or not? I just thought of the message actually 😅 Plus, you already drew Norway a lot. Maybe people would like to see someone else. Hmm... What about your take on Faroe if you got any?

Oh my, I am also a shy ghost, so I know it takes a lot to go and leave a message to creators- This is so incredibly touching. Thank you!! Truly, I appreciate it. It means a lot to me!

To answer your question: Yes, I do have a take on our boy Føroyar… kind of. And on Åland too! They would be part of the Nordic family, and I have some ideas for them! They aren't that well-developed (I have my hands full reimagining the canon as it is), and I don't know are OCs really something people care about, so I have never talked about them in my blog. But I am always super excited to see other people's takes on these characters! They shift the family dynamic in such fun ways.

Greenland and Sápmi exist as well, but they don't interact with the family as much as these two. Denmark is Greenland's guardian by legality, but they live on the other side of the Arctic Circle. Sápmi is a close family friend, interacting with Norway, Sweden, and Finland. I have always adored @saltlakris's take on Sápmi!

Say halló to the Faroe Islands! He's Norway's and Iceland's half-brother (the other part comes from the Celts), but Denmark operates as his guardian. Growing up, he and Iceland were inseparable, and they're best friends to this day. Faroe is an overall kind and well-behaving kid, but he tests Denmark occasionally with his weirdness. Faroe likes to keep to himself, and others don't see him that often.

Much like Iceland, he's actually a daredevil and adrenaline seeker. He likes working at the Sea to provide for his people. He has more of an active approach to life in general and likes doing physical work. Faroe is relatively passive and known to be fair and reasonable. He's polite and can't seem to hold grudges against people, so sometimes he doesn't know how to stand his ground. He doesn't like to tattle and takes the blame just because he's non-confrontational. However, growing up with the rest of Western Nordics, Faroe can be very pigheaded. He's also moody, speaks loudly, and curses like a sailor. He's a bit slow in the sense that he's out of the loop with trends, and he's usually the last one to laugh at jokes. But when others interpret this as him being dumb, it infuriates him. He might not be book-smart, but he has invaluable practical wisdom. He's skilled and efficient. He still has a lot of maturing to do and should start taking some responsibility. Speaking of which, he's notoriously reckless. He's very relaxed and trusting, so he never locks his doors (which he forgets to do in Denmark's place). He also comes and goes as he pleases, rarely informing anyone in advance. If you're Faroe's friend, don't be surprised to see him standing in your living room unannounced. He's known to be always late, having the worst organizational skills, and he's terrible at calling people back. He doesn't want to cause problems, it's just the way he does things - living in the moment.

He has a heavy accent when talking with others, but he adorably speaks in an old-timey fashion that can sound retro to mainlanders (gøtudanskt). Besides the way he speaks, Faroe also acts old-fashioned, as he's well-mannered and thoughtful with other people. Faroe can also appear more traditional than the rest of the Nordics and values his customs. He lived with Denmark for a long time, almost losing his roots, so he's very protective of his practices and freedom nowadays. He still has his own room in Denmark's place, but he lives on his own most of the time. You'd think Faroe is outdoorsy, but his climate is unwelcoming and harsh on the next level. He has gotten used to it and loves his home, but he doesn't get to host garden parties. Charmingly, he gets excited over common natural sights, such as forests and lakes. While the climate might be unwelcoming, the people are the opposite - That's what he loves about his place, its small communal feel, and lovely people, and that's what he values more than anything.

Being in his late teens, Faroe is at that wonderful age when everything your parent does is embarrassing and annoying, and they just don't get you. He gets annoyed with Denmark all the time, so Faroe storms into his bedroom (softly closing the door), quietly punching the air and finally silently screaming into the pillow. Then he crawls back an hour later when he's called for dinner, acting all normal again. Faroe is such an easy kid that he often gets forgotten by Denmark, who focuses more on repairing his relationship with Iceland and Greenland. Faroe is totally happy to be left on his own. Who would want… attention… or validation from Denmark anyway? Faroe adores Norway and looks up to him, but Norway never seems to have time for him exclusively. Besides Iceland, he gets along nicely with Åland, a fellow seafarer nation. They're both self-governmental islands that get overshadowed by their more prominent family members, so they often exchange those "I know how you feel" looks at the dinner table.

The Faroe Islands and Iceland would consider each other best friends! Besides being related, they have pretty similar cultures and upbringings. They're both young, rural, and have a strange sense of fun - to others' their games and jokes just seem horrifying! Growing up, outsiders thought they were twins; that's how inseparable they were. Younger Iceland would devise harmless pranks and ways to be mischievous, and he'd drag the gullible Faroe with him. Poor Faroe always got the blame and lecturing. After Iceland's independence, their relationship started drifting, and Iceland is now making other friends. Sometimes Faroe gets upset by this, but he's too nervous to say anything. He's happy about his brother's success, but he can get quite lonely in his place. Occasionally he longs for those moments when the whole family lived under the same roof, though he would never admit it. Then he visits Denmark for one week, and all those thoughts are thrown out the window! The longer the distance between him and Denmark, the better!

Anyway, he's an adorable guy, and I am happy to finally introduce him in my Nationverse <3

#hws faroe islands #hws iceland #oc talk #my art

78 notes · View notes