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marlynnofmany · 1 year

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Stabby the One and Only

“Oh no, there are more of you,” Zhee said drily.

I grinned. “Zhee, this is Captain Parker of the good ship Hold My Beer.”

“A pleasure,” said Captain Parker, smiling with bright teeth in a dark face. A twitch of his arm said he’d been about to go for a handshake, then fully noticed Zhee’s pincher arms. He bowed instead.

“Yes, good greetings,” Zhee said, bending his front legs briefly to lower his eye level in a similar bow. “Is your ship all humans, or do you have someone else to keep you in line? With a name like that, I have my guesses.”

“All human!” Captain Parker said. “We’re just stopping by for fuel on our way to Basal Station.” He waved back towards the sporty silver cruiser that was easily the classiest thing at this out-of-the-way spaceport.

“Oh hey, us too!” I told him. “Our ship is the little lemon-looking dealie over there.”

“Nice, nice,” he said once he’d spotted it. “Solar sails, always a classic. What species’ model is that? I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

“Uh, Strongarm?” I guessed with a look to Zhee. “Right? It’s the same as Kamm’s ship, and seemed like a family thing.”

Zhee tipped his head at what would be an extreme angle on a human. “Who can keep track?” he said. “It is fuel-efficient and spacious enough, and that is all that matters.”

“We’re doing courier work,” I told Captain Parker. “Delivering some art right now for a big to-do on Basal.”

“We’re headed to our own to-do,” he said with pride. “In the sports sector.”

“Oh cool, what sport?”

He was about to tell me when a lumpy golden monstrosity of a warship roared to the ground, barely clearing the other nearby ships. Repulsor engines blasted a gust of wind that threw spaceport grit into everyone’s eyes and nearly bowled over those standing too close. That included a handful of humans carrying supplies onto their own ship, every one of whom yelled about it.

The ship was silent for a moment, long enough for two of the humans to run over to their captain, and for many other bystanders to cast disapproving looks. That sort of landing seemed deliberately rude. Had they meant it that way?

Oh yeah, they had.

“HUMANS!” bellowed a voice from the ship’s speakers. “Hand over your mascot. You have one chance before we open fire from orbit.” Various gunports flashed weaponry.

Bystanders panicked and ran, some for ships and some for the nearby buildings. No security forces emerged, because this little port wasn’t up to dealing with that degree of threat. The golden ship had picked a smart place for a shakedown.

Paint raced out of a building to wave us toward our ship, worried and fidgety in a blur of orange scales. “Let’s go!” she urged.

I was about to object that we hadn’t gotten fuel yet when Captain Parker shouted back. “What mascot do you mean?”

“Don’t play games, human,” the loudspeaker replied. “Your stabbing droid. Bring it out now.”

“Oh, that mascot,” said Captain Parker with deceptive calm. “Just a minute.” He huddled with the pair who’d come to see him.

Paint tugged at my arm, but I dragged my feet, wanting to know their answer.

The huddle separated. “Okay, you can have him,” Captain Parker yelled. “But come out and get him yourself, you cowards.”

Zhee hissed behind me and Paint squeaked. Angry growls sounded over the loudspeaker, then a hatch opened to admit a half-dozen pissed off dinosaurs.

Not dinosaurs, I thought. Armorlites. Bipedal, toothy, and widely known for not playing well with others. Their entire culture seemed to revolve around strength and superiority. I couldn’t think of a time when I’d seen one NOT act like a bully.

They also called themselves The Mighty, but no one else did. “Armorlite” was the best they were going to get, a reference to the thin scales that did nothing to protect the muscles they were so proud of.

“Hand it over!” bellowed the tall one in front, aiming a gun across the spaceport at Captain Parker.

“Yeah yeah, just a second,” he replied, the very picture of calm and collected. He waved toward his own ship. Someone appeared at the hatch, carrying an inert cleaning droid with a knife strapped to it. “Let me just say goodbye to him.”

Paint stopped pulling abruptly. “Wait, is that the one all the stories are about?” she asked. “That is an icon! A treasure to your people! And they’re just going to give it away?”

“Hang on,” I whispered. “I think he’s got a plan.”

Captain Parker was making a show of it, saluting dramatically and declaring at length what an honor it had been to travel with such a legend. The woman holding the legend in question stood ramrod-straight, and turned to make the delivery with all solemnity. Other humans lined up in front of their ship to salute. A wordless but inspiring song was suddenly playing on the loudspeakers. It was an over-the-top production.

And the Armorlites were loving it. They swaggered forward to accept their prize, with the leader handing his gun to an underling so he could snatch the droid from the human, who retreated in silence.

“Take good care of him,” Captain Parker said in a strained voice. “Make sure you keep his battery charged.”

The Armorlite held his prize up and sneered at the human, launching into a description of everything he was going to do with the precious human mascot. None of it was good.

“…Peel off another section of its casing each day!” he raved. “All will fear The Mighty, who have claimed Stabby the Roomba for their own!”

They weren’t looking at the human ship, but I sure was. The saluting crew all stepped to the side as a whole fleet of cleaning droids trundled down the ramp, silent under cover of the music. Each one wore a knife in stabbing position: right at ankle height.

Armorlite ankle scales are especially weak.

The first Armorlite to get shanked made a squeal of surprise, flailing with his gun rather than shooting it. The others didn’t react quickly enough to avoid the same fate: they looked to their companion’s face for answers, only to be attacked from below. The leader avoided it the longest, dodging to the side and yelling at his crew to fight back, but the droids had circled around him, and it was only a matter of time.

Just as he bellowed in pain, a precision laser unfolded from the human ship and zapped each gun in turn.

The leader dropped the Roomba to crack loudly on the pavement.

He snarled down at it, at the menacing droids, at the humans, and at the laser aimed at his head. Then he pushed past his underlings to limp back to the ship, a fleet of droids in slow pursuit. The Armorlites all made it onboard and shut the door. In moments, the captain was shouting from the loudspeaker about his plans to rain destruction from above. The ship blasted skyward with another gust of hot air.

I opened my eyes once the dust cloud was past to see Captain Parker still standing there. “Aren’t you going to stop him?” I asked, worried.

“Already did,” he told me. “Jenkins snuck Stabby’s cousin Blasty onboard when they weren’t looking. Told him to find the engine room.”

A muffled explosion sounded from the upper atmosphere. I looked up to see the golden ship veering sideways, trailing smoke.

Captain Parker saluted. “Farewell, Blasty Number Thirty-Two. You went out like a champ.” He stepped forward to pick up the cracked droid while the Armorlite ship disappeared across the horizon, not managing to fire a single weapon.

Paint and Zhee moved closer. “Your poor mascot,” Paint said. “Can it be repaired?”

“What, this?” Captain Parker asked. “This doesn’t even have a battery. It’s just spare parts.”

“Oh!” Paint said, perking up.

Zhee cocked his head. “Do you have the real one, or were they wrong about that?”

Captain Parker waved a hand at the fleet of droids that were currently getting rounded up by his crew. “We have LOTS of real ones! We’re on our way to the droid jousting league championships.”

I laughed. “Did they hear some of that and think you had the Single One And Only Human Mascot Stabby?”

“Yup! Sure looks that way.”

Paint was amazed. “I didn’t know there were so many!”

Zhee angled his pinchers in exasperation. “Of course there’s not just one. That’s expecting too much sanity and good sense from humans in general.”

“To be fair,” I said, “I don’t think there was ever just one. Sure, the famous one may have had more adventures than most, but the jury’s out on how many of those adventures were even the same Stabby.”

Captain Parker nodded. “And what fun is good sense?”

“Exactly!” I said.

Zhee stuck his bug eyes up close to my face. “No, you can’t have one.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest it!” I said, grinning at the frowny-eyebrow slant of his antennae.

“Oh here, how about this?” Captain Parker dug something from his pocket and handed it to me. “The knife is rubber. We make ‘em for the kids; that’s our team logo.”

“I love it,” I told him, gazing at the palm-sized minidroid with the red chili pepper sticker.

“That had better not end up in my quarters,” Zhee declared while Paint got a good look at it. “I promise nothing in regards to stepping on it.”

“Yes, yes,” I said. “You have so many legs; how could you possibly keep track of them all?”

Zhee made a disparaging noise and clicked off toward the ship.

“Well, I should be going,” Captain Parker said as someone called for him. “See you at Basal Station, maybe!”

“Yeah, maybe!” I said. We waved our goodbyes as he rejoined his crew.

Paint was thinking hard as we turned to follow Zhee. “Do you think Captain Sunlight would be okay with a detour after we make our delivery?” she asked. “I want to see what that championship looks like.”

“It can’t hurt to ask!” I said, holding up my new minidroid. “Just don’t tell Zhee. At least not until she says yes.”

~~~

The ongoing adventures in backstory for this book. More to come!

#my writing #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #haso #hfy #Stabby the Roomba #Stabby the space Roomba #the Token Human

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amhrosina · 1 year

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Show Me How Much You Missed Me (Matt Murdock x f!Reader x Frank Castle)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

A/N: This is filthy. Like, FILTHY. I’m ashamed. Brooke, look away!!!! Also, where do we land on the whole cum/come thing??? I tried “come” out in this one, and I can’t decide if I like it spelled this way or not. Let me know (you can send me an anonymous ask if you don’t want to comment that lmfao)!

This can be read separately from Play Time, but it’s a continuation of it, so if you feel like it, read both!

(Part 1)

request: poly!mattfrank when reader finally uses their safeword because they were being to rough, and that practically kills them because of the guilt they feel, to the point where they don't touch reader for almost a week

Summary: You get overwhelmed during playtime and use your safe word, spurring a tense few days as you, Frank, and Matt try to figure out how to interact with each other afterwards.

(Warnings: oh god so much smut, oral (fem & male receiving), p in v penetration, reader gets overwhelmed during playtime, cursing, somewhat dom!Frank & dom!Matt, reader & matt & frank go to paris, it’s literally all smut like don’t read past this line if you don’t want to read the smuttiest smut I’ve ever written, a little angst I guess, I probably missed a warning or two)

It had been a bad week, the worst week, if you really thought about it. Through no fault of your own, important packages had been mixed up at work, causing your boss to lose his shit on the only person within yelling distance, aka: you. Then, you’d managed to spill coffee all over your dress, which made you inexplicably late the next morning. And if that weren’t enough, you’d dropped your phone in your mug of tea today and hadn’t been able to turn it on since then.

All you wanted to do was relax and unwind when you got home from what felt like the longest week of your life. Frank and Matt had noticed your growing tension, but neither had mentioned anything to you about it. You always came to them with problems when you were ready and had sorted through your feelings, so they offered silent support while they waited for you to work through it in your head.

When Friday night finally came around, all you’d wanted was some time away from responsibility. You wanted to give yourself fully to your boys, let them make the decisions for you, and let them take care of you until you forgot about the shitty week you’d had.

That was how you ended up in your current position: wrists tied to the headboard behind you, blindfolded, and overwhelmed with pleasure. Frank was stationed at the end of the bed, holding your hips up so he could properly pound into you. Matt was by your side, fingers working your clit so hard you could barely breathe. Everything was going to plan, everything was working, until it wasn’t.

“Our pretty girl,” Matt coed in your ear, “So wet for us.”

Matt’s hand came down in a harsh slap on your pussy. You jolted forward at the unexpected contact, panting. Frank hoisted your hips up further, slamming into you at an untethered pace. Tears pricked your eyes, and you couldn’t quite figure out if they were out of pleasure or pain. You didn’t know how to feel.

On the one hand, you had asked for this, and Matt and Frank were doing exactly what you’d asked them to do, but now you were so far in your own head about what a shitty week you’d had that you couldn’t find the pleasure you’d been searching for earlier. And yet, you couldn’t open your mouth and ask them to stop. You’d never used your safe word before, and you weren’t sure how they’d react if you tried. Would they be upset? Would they be angry?

You must’ve stiffened, because Matt was no longer whispering in your ear, nor was he touching you. Frank had paused his movement too, and you could only guess that he and Matt were communicating silently, the way they always did when it came to you.

“Kitten,” Matt murmured, “Are you okay?”

A rush of tears welled in your eyes, and your bottom lip began to wobble in anticipation of the sob crawling up your throat.

“Satin.” You mumbled, finally allowing yourself to express the pent-up emotions you’d been harboring all week. Tears stained the blindfold, still covering your eyes, and you turned your face away from the both of them, crying into the pillow next to your head.

Frank and Matt moved at an unrivaled pace. Matt was quick to untie your wrists from the headboard, while Frank pulled out of you and removed your blindfold. It all happened very quickly, and suddenly they were on either side of you, pulling you into a comforting hold.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, resting your forehead on Frank’s chest.

“Don’t be sorry, sweet girl. Did we hurt you?” Frank asked, stroking your hair. Matt was pressed against your back, arms circled around you in a firm hold. You were between your two boys, safe and loved.

You shook your head, sniffling. “No, I’m just a mess.”

“You’re not a mess, sweetheart.” Matt corrected, nuzzling into your back.

You didn’t respond, too caught up in your head to reveal the reason you were so emotional, and eventually, you fell asleep, wrapped in the arms of the only two men you’d ever be comfortable enough to love.

It was days later when you realized there might be a problem. All weekend, Matt and Frank had barely touched you, the only contact between the three of you being when you first awoke and had managed to tangle yourself in their arms. Other than that, they were overly cautious around you, almost like they were walking on eggshells.

When you’d tried to initiate contact, one or both of them would come up with a reason they couldn’t stay for long. Late night patrols and client meetings cropped up randomly, and at the most inconvenient times, like when you were minutes away from unbuckling Matt’s pants and putting your mouth on him. The excuses were becoming less and less believable, and you were growing more frustrated by the hour.

You’d finally had enough on Wednesday evening. You were currently stationed in front of the door, refusing to move out of Matt’s way as he tried to rush out of the house again. Frank was watching this interaction from the hallway, nervously wringing his hands as you stood your ground.

“You are not leaving, Matthew.”

“Sweetheart, I have an important meeting with a client tomorrow. I have to brush up on the case against them.”

“You have all your work stuff here." You glanced at his briefcase sitting on the coffee table. “Why do you keep leaving?”

“I’m just busy at work, Kitten.”

“No.” You shook your head, glancing at Frank for help. Tears threatened to spill, and you had to gulp down your emotions before you continued. “No, something’s up. Why haven’t either of you touched me since Friday? I’ve tried and both of you keep shutting me down. Are you angry with me?”

“No, sweetheart.” Frank pushed himself off the wall, moving toward you and Matt. “No, there’s nothing to be angry about. I promise.”

“Well then why are you guys acting like this?” Your hands shook with anger and confusion. Frank and Matt were both hands-on kind of guys, but they hadn’t so much as laid a hand on you in days.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” Matt mumbled, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“We didn’t want to hurt you again, that’s all.” Frank revealed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hurt me?” Your brow furrowed, and suddenly their odd behavior over the past few days made total sense to you. “You thought you hurt me on Friday? When I said the safe word?”

“Why else would you say the safe word?” The confusion on Frank’s face was clear, and you were overwhelmed with a sense of relief. They still loved you, and all three of you were idiots. You shook your head, rubbing your face with your hands.

“I was just overwhelmed. I had a bad week last week, and I couldn’t focus, and I just needed a hug and a second to think through my feelings, but you didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Matt asked

“Completely. Is that why you guys won’t touch me? Because you thought you hurt me?”

“We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Frank said, shyly placing his hand on your lower back.

“That’s not possible.” You grinned, unable to hide your giggle at how ridiculous the entire affair was. “Will someone please touch me now?”

Matt grunted, cupping your jaw and pulling your lips against his. It was a vicious kiss, full of longing and regret, but you opened yourself to him completely. You felt it in your bones – your soul reached out to them in desire, longing to feel loved again. You ripped your mouth away from Matt’s and turned to Frank, kissing him with equal ferocity.

Matt followed your movements, pressing himself into your back as he kissed your neck. Frank wrapped one hand around your waist and the other around Matt’s shoulder, pulling both of you toward him with a lustful grunt.

“You wanna play, Kitten?” Frank smiled into the kiss as Matt taunted you.

“Yes. Show me how much you missed me.” You mumbled, reaching for Frank’s belt buckle.

“Gentle or rough, sweet girl?”

“I don’t want to be able to walk for a week.”

Matt groaned into your neck, all too eager to oblige you. Frank was already working on pulling your shirt over your head, and you shimmied out of your pants so fast that you almost lost your balance in the process. Frank chuckled, hoisting you into the air so that you could wrap your legs around him.

As he walked toward the bedroom that the three of you shared, you made sure to grab onto the collar of Matt’s shirt and tug him along. He would’ve followed you anyway, but you wanted to make sure he knew how much you wanted him there. He was always the more sensitive one when it came to upsetting you.

Frank set your legs down softly on the bedroom floor, and you immediately dropped to your knees in front of him.

“Can I taste you?” you asked, blinking up at Frank with an innocent smile on your face. It took everything Frank had not to drop to his knees and join you on the floor. He’d do anything for you, but when you had that look in your eyes, he’d be content with burning the world if that’s what would make you happy.

“And you?” you asked, placing your hand on Matt’s leg as he moved past you.

“We’re supposed to be making you feel good, Kitten.” Matt replied, smirk on his face.

“I want to make you feel good, too.” You mumbled, looking back and forth between them.

Matt’s smirk grew as he bent down, placing his fingers below your jaw and tugging upwards to pull you off your knees. Frank grunted in disapproval, but Matt clicked his tongue before Frank could say anything. Matt’s smirk told you he had a plan that would please everyone.

“Hands and knees. On the bed.” Matt placed his hands in his pockets in a casual gesture. You tried to keep yourself from drooling at how attractive he always managed to be, even when he wasn’t trying.

“Now, Kitten.” he urged, impatient as ever.

You lurched forward, eager to please him, and jumped on the bed, pulling your clothes off in the process. Matt pulled Frank in front of you by his belt, and you drooled at the contact. They didn’t always give a lot of attention to each other in the bedroom, but when they did, you melted inside.

Matt made his way behind you, walking at a seductively slow pace. Your mouth watered as Frank unbuckled his belt, pulling out his hard length and pumping it a few times. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip, which earned you a stunted groan. As you wrapped your lips around Frank’s cock, Matt’s hand made contact with your ass. You moaned, pushing your head further down Frank’s length. Matt’s fingers drew a trail through your folds, and the sound of his breath sucking in as you soaked his fingers was enough to fuel your ego for a month.

“Matty.” You whined, arching your back further. “Touch me, please.”

“Can I taste you?” He asked, and you physically felt yourself flood with desire. His raspy tone, a steady reminder that you’d invited the Devil to share your bed, sent a rhythmic pounding to your core.

“Please.” You moaned, wrapping your lips around Frank’s length again.

Matt didn’t hold back. He swiped his tongue up your folds, spurring an unholy moan from you.

“Sweet.” Matt mumbled, before attacking your clit with his tongue.

It was a flurry of grunts and moans, and you were so worked up from not getting any attention over the past few days that your orgasm was already fast approaching. Matt was a master with his tongue, and your legs began to shake within seconds of him licking your cunt from top to bottom.

Frank pulled your hair behind your head, lightly thrusting into your mouth. You took him deeper, eyes watering, and when he finally thrusted into your throat, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming all over Matt’s tongue. It hit you like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of you while also lifting you higher than you’d been in weeks. You grunted, moaned, and groaned as Matt continued licking at your cunt, content to stay in that exact position until he lapped up every drop of your orgasm.

When he finally pulled away, you moaned in short-lived relief. Matt loved to overstimulate you, but what you really wanted was for him to fuck the life out of you. Matt ran his hands over your ass, gripping the skin so hard you were sure there would be bruises the next day. The jingle of his belt buckle hitting the ground made your toes curl, and desire ran through you so fast that you took Frank as deep as you could manage.

Frank grunted, pleased with your neediness, and began thrusting harder into your mouth. Matt lined himself up with your entrance, swiping his length through your folds for good measure. You couldn’t take the anticipation any longer, so you arched your back even further, whining so that Matt could hear how bad you wanted him.

“You’re doing so good, Kitten.” Frank murmured, tightening his hold on your hair. “Isn’t she doing so good, Red?”

Matt ran a hand down your spine, sending shivers throughout your body.

“She’s perfect.” Matt panted before pushing himself inside you.

Everything was still for a moment as you adjusted to Matt’s length in you. He was big, and you hadn’t been thoroughly fucked in days, so the pressure was intense for a moment. When you finally resumed bobbing your head up and down Frank’s cock, Matt began thrusting into you.

He started slow, matching Frank’s soft thrusts until he knew you were okay. You pushed back against him, asking him to go faster, and he eagerly obliged. Matt pounded into you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, while Frank thrusted into your mouth at the same speed. You were overwhelmed with pleasure and so turned on that it didn’t surprise you when you could feel the beginning of another orgasm forming in your core.

“You ‘gonna come, Kitten?” Frank asked, pulling your hair back so that you could look in his eyes. You nodded bashfully, cheeks growing warm at the attention.

“Not yet, Kitten.” Matt murmured, thrusting so deep inside of you that you swore you saw stars.

You whined as you tried to stave off your orgasm. You didn’t think they would punish you if you came too early tonight, but you didn’t want to take that chance. For once, your bratty alter-ego was happy to remain on the sidelines. They pounded into you from both sides, and your moans grew louder as you continued to try and ignore the pounding in your core.

“C’mon, Red. Let her come.”

Frank grinned as Matt sighed and leaned closer to you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, sliding his fingers across your pussy until he landed on your clit. A spark of unbridled need flowed through you, and as soon as he started moving his fingers, you were on the verge of exploding.

“Come, Kitten.” Matt commanded. And you did.

You sagged forward, dropping Frank’s length from your mouth as you let out a sinful moan into the mattress. Your entire body tensed as the waves of your orgasm crashed through you, and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks as Matt continued to pound into you.

When you could finally breathe again, Matt pulled you up against his chest and wrapped his hand around your throat. You rested your head on his shoulder as his sloppily thrusted into you. His breath hitched, and you knew he was seconds away from coming.

“Where do you want me to come, Kitten?”

“I want you to fill me up, Matty. I want both of you to.” You panted.

Matt grunted, then let out a stunted moan as he came in you. The hand around your throat tightened, and Matt pressed his forehead into your shoulder as he panted. You heaved a breathy sigh, and tried to wilt against Matt, but Frank had other ideas.

Frank hoisted you in the air, flipping you over and dropping you on the bed on your back. Matt flopped down next to you, taking your chin in his hand and bringing his lips to yours in a sweet, apologetic kiss. Matt still felt bad about essentially ignoring you for days. He always sat in his guilt for longer than most, but you and Frank didn’t mind coaxing him out of his shell when he needed it. You’d no doubt have to remind him later that he had nothing to feel guilty about.

“Hold on to somethin’, Kitten.” Frank grumbled, wrapping his arms around your thighs and roughly pulling you toward him.

Frank slammed into you, spurring a loud moan out of you. He pounded into you at an animalistic pace, and the only thing that kept you from flying off the bed was Matt’s grip on your waist. Matt gave his attention to your chest and nipples, flicking his tongue across the nubs as you cried out in ecstasy. The room became a multitude of sounds – skin slapping skin, whining moans, and Frank’s muted grunts as he ruined you.

When Matt dropped his hand to your clit, you lost all sense of composure. You lurched forward, allowing your third orgasm to crash over you. You became a delirious hot mess, so worn out and happy that you barely registered Frank coming in you soon after.

Frank slumped down next to you, breathing hard into the mattress as the three of you came down from your highs. When your heartrate finally returned to normal and you felt like you could breathe again, you leaned over Frank, pulling a large blanket off the end of the bed and spreading it out over the three of you. You laid back, pulling both of the boys’ heads into your chest.

“I love you guys.” You murmured, kissing both of them on the head.

“We love you, sweetheart.” Frank said, still panting.

“The next time I use the safe word, you guys can’t freak out like this, okay? I trust both of you to take care of me. I just needed a second to think.”

“Okay.” The two men grumbled, already half asleep from the happenings of the evening. You snuggled into Matt’s chest, pulling Frank’s arms around you as you moved. You took a deep breath, so content to stay in this position with your boys forever. If you asked, they’d probably figure out a way to make it work. They’d do anything for you, and that is exactly the way you like it.

Tag List:

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impishjesters · 7 months

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warning(s): none note(s): This was a request that accidentally got deleted so I'm fuzzy on the exact words used, but I remember it involving a reader who makes clay things and that it was for Gangle. So my apologies to the requester if I missed anything! A/N: I don't remember if it was platonic or romantic, but this was written with the intention of the crushing stage because I just think it's so stinking cute. I definitely feel like Gangle would enjoy someone going out of their way to not only help fix her masks but make her brand new ones without her even asking for them. Too cute.

Gangle x Clay Maker!Reader

Gangle held her recently broken comedy mask for what felt like the hundredth time, and it seemed like almost every time was a result of something to do with Jax. The most recent case, however, was the new arrival, just to have it stepped on breaking it further. If she had a mean bone in her body she’d curse the damn thing for being so fucking fragile.

Luckily she had you, someone who worked with clay to make all sorts of little things. You had even taken to making her some new masks, some she wore, some she put up as decoration too afraid to risk them breaking. Even when you reassured her you could fix them up if that happened, that offer extended to her two original masks.

When everything had died down she separated from the group and headed for your bedroom. She had asked once before why you didn’t just ask Caine for more space or a new room, you had brushed it off by saying it’s not like you needed a fully furnished bedroom.

Besides Caine oh so graciously gave you all the things needed to make new clay stuff, asking for more at the moment felt like too much—even if you deserved it for being trapped in this shit hole, all of you deserved more than you got.

Gangle raised a hand to knock before remembering that it wasn’t necessary and instead opted to push the door open before calling out your name.

Your head rose from the project in front of you, throwing a quick glance at your guest. “Ah, Gangle. Broken mask?” Poor girl couldn’t catch a break.

“Yes…the newbie broke it…b-by accident!” she tacked on. “Then Jax stepped on it…”

Gangle crept over and you gestured for her to show you the pieces. Laying them out on the worktable she hunched into herself, hands fiddling idly. “I-it’s not too broken is it?”

You shoved your current project aside and gently collected the fragments like it was a puzzle, whistling when you saw the damage. “Nothing’s too broken, especially since you already told me you don’t mind the clay. It might take a little bit longer than normal though, but I can give you a temporary comedy mask if you want.”

She shook her head, there was a certain fondness for her original two masks that it felt odd to wear the mock ups you made. Though she was starting to fear the damage becoming too much that these two masks would hardly be original anymore.

“Do you think you could…maybe make more solid copies of them? L-like the others?”

The masks you designed were made a bit more durable then the temporary comedy masks she’d used before. They were temporary after all, more akin to a cheap Papier-mâché mask then a solid structured mask.

“What like a better version of your main two? Thinking of tucking these two away for safety?” Gangle gave a nod and you looked at her, mask shards forgotten to reach out and touch along the edge of the tragedy mask she wore. “You know you could easily just ask Caine to fix them up.”

Gangle tittered nervously at your tender touch, trying to focus on anything but how close you were. “I..I guess I could.. but..”

It was embarrassing to admit she liked your handiwork, and while she was worried about her masks you did bring up a good point. Caine would easily fix them if they got that bad, but it felt like a last option to fall back on. In fact he had fixed them up multiple times prior to your arrival, but it felt like she was a bother having to always find him and ask time and time again.

If she was being completely honest, she sort of just really liked the tender attention you gave her and the way you kept working so earnestly on masks for her. Masks she didn’t even ask for, it was completely your own doing! So sue her for sucking up all the attention you happily gave her.

When she never finished her sentence you took that as her being lost in her own head and gentle jostled her face. “Outta that pretty little head missy, you don’t have to explain it to me. But yeah I can make sturdier mask copies.”

You gesture to the free seat nearby and she scampered off to her usual spot. It gave her the perfect view to watch both you and your work while being just the right distance to not be in the way or for her heart to beat out her chest.

The project you had been working on when she entered was left untouched in favour of fixing up some of her broken mask as well as getting a fresher template drawn up. Gangle eyed the ignored project before her attention went back to you.

“What were you working on before I came in?”

“Mm? Oh, nothing too important, just some little clay dolls.”

Gangle pulled her knees closer as she listened to you talk about the dolls in question. She was forever grateful that her masks kept the exact object she was staring at vague, if you knew that her eyes were glued specifically to you she’d completely unravel.

Physically and mentally. Maybe one day she’d speak up on her feelings.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc gangle #gangle #gangle x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

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AITA for name dropping some of my friends’ connections?

i (20X) have multiple friends that have connections to pretty famous internet celebrities, creators, etc. i wouldn’t call them household names, because a lot of them are pretty contained to solely online presences, but definitely names most twitter/tumblr users would recognize. i won’t go into too much detail for privacy reasons, but essentially, i’m two degrees of separation from a LOT of popular internet creators.

this isn’t something i talk about often, if really at all. i’ll mention these people to my irl friends all the time, because they’re also my friends, but never about their connections (unless it’s relevant at the time). i met almost all of them naturally, some without even knowing about their connections, either having common interests, or being in the same discord, fanproject, etc. i didn’t befriend them in an attempt to get closer to whatever celebrity they know is what i’m trying to say. at least two of them even made said connection after we’d become acquaintances.

college recently started again, and me and my roommates were invited to a party hosted by some of the girls that live on our floor to get to know everyone better. we ended up playing two truths, one lie to break the ice and get more comfortable with each other. me and my roommates all have a bit of a flair for the dramatic, and stories to back it up, so when it got to their turns (all of them went before me), they went all out. for example, one of them brought up how her moms met david bowie or something because they happened to be bowling in the same alley and ended up talking and getting drinks together. i forget who it actually was, but still. very out there, absurd stories that sound unbelievable/fake, but very much happened.

this is where i may be the asshole. when it got to my turn, i ended up name-dropping some of my connections. i said something along the lines of “i have fairly close connections to x, y, and z.” writing it like that doesn’t have the same impact, but you get my point. everyone in the room knew who they were is the important part. the room guessed what the lie was wrong, and promptly began to ask how i knew the people i’d named. i explained i had a few internet friends that had/have worked closely with them, and that i either knew certain things the general public doesn’t, or that i’ve had the privilege of contributing to projects/suggesting ideas because of it. it’s important to mention that i didn’t lead with having insider knowledge/positions, because i know i’d be the asshole if i had. they asked, i answered as much as i could, which wasn’t much more than i stayed here. i didn’t say any specific projects or ideas for what i think are fairly obvious reasons. they hadn’t reacted very much to any of my roommates’ insane bullshit, so i hadn’t expected such a response and thought my truth was fairly tame in comparison, honestly. (another example: one of them has nearly drowned 7 times, with 5 of those times all happening on a tuesday. they’ve told me all 7 of those stories and i think they’re super interesting, a lot more than me just having connections to people i don’t even personally know.)

anyways. the conversation moved on, the same continued, all seems good. that was a week ago, for reference. i find out a few of the people there are in my classes, which is great! i get to talking to most of them, and they’re all as friendly as they were when we met, except for one, who i’ll call holly (not her real name). holly acts cordial when she has to (group discussion, that sort of stuff) but whenever i try to talk or interact with her outside of that, she outright ignores me. she fully walked past me once despite us not only making eye contact, but me waving and calling her name. i didn’t get why she was acting like that all of a sudden, because she didn’t have any problems with me during the party. i didn’t think i’d done anything to wrong her, but just in case, i reached out to one of her roommates to ask if holly had told them anything about it, or if they remembered me doing something to make her react that way that i just forgot or didn’t realize i’d done.

one of them got back to me today that holly had apparently gone on a tirade about how disgusting i was, how i was clearly just “using” my friends because of their connections, that i only used them for clout and popularity, etc. which, as i said, is FULLY not true. what bothers me most is that she reached that conclusion with absolutely no evidence other than one conversation, one that me and all my roommates were clearly using to highlight the more silly/out-there aspects of our lives. most of the time i spent explaining things consisted of me gushing over how cool and hard-working my friends are for having those opportunities and how much i look up to them. i don’t know if she wasn’t paying attention or thought i was lying or what, but now i’m worried i may have actually come off that way. like that maybe i actually WAS just using them in that instance, whether i intended to or not, and that i came off as super assholeish and manipulative. so, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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yanderu-deredere · 8 months

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Ryuu behaving like a sweet himbo for his darling makes it so easy to forget that he's 1) a yandere and 2) brutal y'know because of his occupation. What's his sadistic side like? Is he subtle or does he go to darling expecting praise? Or on the flip side, what about a darling who showers him with unconditional love but definitely uses his muscle against people who've wrong them?

a/n: thank you for your interest in ryuu! im sure he appreciates it! but yes, he's kind of a wild one loool i do a lil explainy thing in the beginning but you'll read a lil cute drabble at the end so i think it's worth

warning: mentions of crimes and murder? thatse it lol, implied decapitation i guess, also blood lol

ryuunosuke yamamoto ★ profile

Ryuu's sadistic side isn't an exact opposite of how he is normally. He's always a himbo, through and through. It's probably why so many people are so terrified of him. He approaches disgusting things like killing people and torturing people with a sort of childlike glee? There's definitely a sort of unhinged-ness to it, for sure.

And he has just about the highest pain tolerance among anyone in Lovelock. He's the type to be hit full force with a bat and then just shrug it off. He also doesn't even drop when he gets tazed (though he does shake a good bit). He's basically an unstoppable killing machine LOL and sometimes it unnerves even his closest coworkers.

Thankfully, his darling never has to see any of that. His darling is his most important person and, though he doesn't think there's anything wrong with how he does his 'work', he wants to keep his love life and that shit completely separate. He's not sure why but he knows that side of his life terrifies people and makes them run to the hills and he doesn't want that to happen with his darling. It's very much 'he doesn't think it's wrong but he knows other people don't like it' kind of thing?

The only caveat to that though is that Ryuu would only be willing to do it if he also thinks darling is willing to do the same (or around the same if darling isn't willing to kill) for him. Despite his himbo tendencies, Ryuu can be really perceptive when people are taking advantage of him without caring for his wellbeing. He'd grown up with his parents using him and then several other people used him after that too. He's learned from his mistakes.

It's entirely a different thing when it comes to his darling ordering him though. It only happens when Ryuu finds it in him to trust that darling won't run away or darling finds out about that part of his life themselves. Either way, it's definitely taking the next step in a relationship with Ryuu. And letting them in like that means that he really can trust his darling completely, fully, wholly.

A darling that can control him like that will be a powerhouse in Lovelock because Ryuu really is that unstoppable. He's like a zombie LOL he can take bullets like it's nothing. All darling really has to do is bat their eyelashes and ask nicely. Ryuu is way too willing to do unspeakable things to people just because darling asked.

The only reason Dreamy Creamery has earned his loyalty is because he knows how nicely the leader treats her underlings. Yeah, he 'works' for money but also he realised along the way that he wanted to work for people he kind of sort of cared about.

So, a darling that only wants him as a weapon and nothing else is not appealing. That doesn't mean he won't be yandere for them, of course. But a darling like that would have a hard time 'controlling' him.

Ryuu pressed his hand a bit more firmly against the bullet hole in his side. It didn't feel like anything but that didn't change the fact that bleeding out would've been bad.

Also, he knew how much you hated it when he made a mess.

As he approached the truck, he saw the passenger side open and your legs dangle out. Like a dog to a bone, he scrambled to you, desperate for you to praise him.

Though he felt no pain, running to you made him stumble and he fell to his knees right to you.

He couldn't help but think it appropriate.

"I did it." Was all he could say, hand still pressed against his injury but his free hand reached for you, desperate for your touch.

You slapped his hand away and, finally, Ryuu felt pain. He whimpered, pulling his hand to his chest, his enamoured expression shifting to one of worry and anxiety.

"What did I say." You asked him sternly, a frown marring your beautiful face.

Though, marring might've been wrong. You were still so gorgeous despite the fact that you were looking at Ryuu like he was the shit on your shoe.

"Y-You told me. You told me that man was bothering you. I killed him!" The distressed expression gave way to one of blood lust and glee "He won't bother you anymore, darling! Not after I disconnected his stupid fucking head from his disgusting--"

You gripped his face in your hand, shutting him up immediately. He reveled in the way your fingers dug into his cheeks, enjoyed the way you made him look you straight in the eye.

"I told you not to get injured." You told him sternly, the disappointment evident in your voice "I don't give a shit about that man. I just want you to come back unscathed. Didn't I make that clear?"

Usually, your disappointment broke Ryuu's heart. Usually, he didn't like disappointing you at all. Right now though? He felt his heart flutter wildly in his chest.

Instead of answering you properly, Ryuu's hand moved from his bullet hole to your cheek, cupping your face and pulling you close to him.

Despite the smear of blood against your skin, you allowed him to guide you to him, your lips pressing against his in a messy searing kiss.

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #oc x reader #yandere #male yandere #male oc #drabbles #ryuu

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maniculum · 7 months

Text

All right, y'all. I'm instituting Scorpion Sundays. Every Sunday I'm going to make a post rating one of the scorpions from the original effortpost, until we get through the whole list. In the meantime, I'll keep posting any scorpions other people send me (or tag me in) on other days -- I'll just schedule any of those I get on the soonest day that doesn't already have a scorpion.

I'm trying to do this in an organized fashion -- I have a spreadsheet and everything. It looks like this:

Anyway, I want to start with this one. I know there are two scorpions in it, but I'm not splitting them up because they're friends. Plus they're getting the same rating.

This is from Harley MS 3244, which the British Library refers to as a "theological miscellany" and has fully digitized. (Link here.) The bestiary section is apparently titled "Liber de Natura Bestiarum" and begins on f.36r. These scorpions are on f.64r.

The reason I'm doing this one first is because I made an error in my initial post. I said, describing this image, "A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs." However, as keen-eyed readers may have noted, this description is inaccurate: the "fish" has seven visible legs. (I'm assuming the legs are the colored rectangles and that the artist didn't just draw a series of stick-legs then blob some color on top of them.) So either these two have different numbers of legs or this version of the scorpion actually has twelve legs -- since the drawing depicts it from the right side, the left legs are hidden behind the right legs, and the "fish" seems to have seven legs because it's stepping slightly forwards and we can see the front left leg.

I guess it's also possible, based on the illustration, that these have no legs and are just perched on top of some sort of rugose stalk like sea anemones. I'm going to give the artist the benefit of the doubt and go with the twelve-legs theory, since that gets them closest to correct.

Also, you have to respect an artist who draws two of the same animal visibly different from each other, right next to each other in the same little box. "Do scorpions have ears? Dunno, this one does and that one doesn't." Is it sexual dimorphism? Different stages in the life cycle? I'd try and work out the answer from the text, but the text looks like this:

Even if my Latin was decent, I don't have the paleographic skills to decipher that. Also, considering that this is the manuscript with four illustrations of scorpions (five if you count the two animals in this illustration separately), no two of which look like the same animal, I'm not willing to assume that the depictions have strong textual support.

So, points.

Small Scuttling Beaſtie? ✔

Pincers? ✘

Exoskeleton or Shell? ✘

Visible Stinger? ✘

Limbs? 12

Now. I think y'all can guess what I think of the vibes of these things. They're tiny and cute. I would pet one and feed it treats. 5/5.

They barely dodge the "identifiable real-world animal" penalty, though. If the one on the left had been drawn with four legs, it would get -1 for being just a regular mouse -- which would then incur a second -1 penalty for being a mammal. But the leg situation is what it is, so they keep their points.

Total points:

6.8 / 10

The leg and ear situations remain ambiguous.

#medieval scorpions

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pariskim · 1 month

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hi. kicks the ground a little. maybe even roots my foot through some dirt like a horse

resident macman here.

joymac early teenage years. thinking about it. okay?

how early on do you think joyces sisters were harassing them for being fags? how do you think they coped? what about school stuff? when does mac learn shame about loving his best friend so much. how does it affect joyce immediately+long term?

and i also want your thoughts about dennis joining the group and how it affected joymac (mostly joyce.) growing up n stuff

sorry. these r things ive been wanting to ask you for a while. take your time to respond to this one, no pressure. im just eager to hear ur thoughts on so much of this ...... feel free to link other posts instead ill read those up too

GRABS YOU LIKE THIS.

you'll never guess what I've been thinking about crazily for the last week. Thank you so much for letting me talk about this. Putting this under readmore because it got. Ridiculously long. Im so sorry

if i think too hard about early highschool years joyce i get so sad and insane. theres just something so tragic about that space in between childhood and the loss of that innocence.

the kelly sisters are probably around half the age of joyce so i think their maturity hitting right as joyce was going into highschool was kind of the perfect storm in a really awful way. i dont think they were ever close with joyce, and its not like they had family dinners or anything but i dont think they were always quite so malicious? i think they messed with her but weren't quite so. much. before their tween/teenager years, mostly just leaving her out of activities and such.

i think middle school was Bad for joymac. realllll bad. it's always the worst for everyone but it's sort of that age in 7-8th grade when you're not supposed to be that close to people you arent dating, and romance becomes important. i think for a long time mac still protected her and stuck hip to hip with her, and she never really cared about what people thought but she still could tell people judged them and didnt like it, but didnt fully internalize it like mac did.

going into highschool i think was a turning point for their friendship, a kind of dynamic switch as mac tries to add being Cool into his personality separating himself from her in that way. he's hitting that point where he's really free falling into his internalized homophobia and it's affecting his relationships. he's still close and touchy and dependent with her in private but its much harder for him to do in public, which I'd think makes her pull away in turn because that hurts y'know? people being ashamed to be her friend when she's already dealing with straight up bullying in school just feels like punching down when she's already stuck.

dennis joining their friend group is Awkward at first. its weird. i think he first meets them awkwardly trying to get weed or running into them somehow, and slowly weaves his way into their lives and it's hard for all of them in different ways? mac is overjoyed theres a cooler person in their friend group but is still closed off in a way that kind of pisses dennis off, but joyce is so open and non judgemental that dennis doesnt know what to Do with it. i think undeniably joyce is jealous as hell because in his attempt to be badass he just switches his codependency from joyce to dennis and doesn't recognize it. slowly the three of them become less of joymac or macden and just the gang, ronnie the rat dirtgrug and the golden god smoking awful weed under the bleachers but it takes work to get there. where joymac are soulmates in some way whether they want to or not, macden are connected in some fucked up way with secret whispers and linked fingers in the dark, and joyden are purposeful connection - putting effort into being kind to one another in a way neither of them normally do.

i think joyce doesn't know what to do with herself in highschool, kind of floating aimlessly during the day, eating whatever spider adriano hands her, waiting til the sun sets to hold macs hand and have him help with the homework she can't figure out how to read. in that space i think she latches onto the reynolds twins in a weird way none of them know exactly what to do with. dee and him chat awkwardly while macden are in the room alone talking in hushed tones and blushing, they sit together a kind of weird girls connection neither of them ever particularly wanted, but a connection both of them needed if that makes sense? they arent Best Friends like the others but they have some sort of understanding of their mutual ostracization from the world. mac was always there for joyce no matter what but i dont think he particularly understood some of what was happening? he knew it was bad but they were little kids with terrible guardians, but i think dennis was the first person to recognize what was really happening with joyce and uncle jack and have a like. genuine connection over that trauma no one else fully Gets, mirrors of each other in an awful way.

i think over time long term mac gets over some of his hangups, especially after graduation when the twins leave for college and its just joymac against the world again but joyce never quite is as open as when they were kids until later on. i think it takes a while to build back up the comfort levels but no matter what mac is always joyces best friend, she's just not sure she's his for a long time in those growing years and she harbors, not resentment because she could never ever hate him, but a sort of deep sadness over it. in my mind especially post him coming out and Especially her coming out they're more comfortable holding hands in public and laying on one bed together again but for a long time i think theres a sort of mutual sadness of them not being able to have what they had as little kids with no one judging them

#sorry oh my god. this got ridiculous #asks #kat #ias analysis #? technically i guess. going in the tag for archiving purposes #joyceverse tag

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rmoonstoner · 2 years

Text

18+ Smut chapter with a wee bit of plot. Steven Grant (Virgin) X Reader. Jake and Marc watch.

Warnings: sex, rough sex, small bit of praise and guess? p in v, mentions of death and describing death, brief descriptions of blood and gore, biting might be mentioned, scratching is mentioned a lot, voyeurism, slight Dom Jake? I dunno, he doesn't get the action, Steven does, but Jake tells him what to do.

***

He recounted at least a dozen times where he had cheated death with 'Conrad's' help, all while Steven was blissfully unaware. He told you how he would sometimes black out while in the heat of battle, only to come to in a sea of death that he had caused. It happened even more frequently after Steven became more of his own person, and being aware of Marc.

Then when he came the very last time he died, it was because he was careless. That time, Steven was fully aware of what was happening, but they had been awkwardly fighting with each other, thinking the other was a pest. Marc was trying to help his friend, who had been imprisoned in some ancient Egyptian tomb. He was on his way to save 'Conrad', when Marc had been shot in the chest and had fallen into a well full of water.

Both him and Steven had been terrified as their vision left them in a dark void. They could feel the icy cold of the water sucking every ounce of warmth from their body as it became numb and unfeeling. They described how their lungs burned as they filled with water, and how they choked and sputtered as the life left their body. They didn't have any strength to move, to try to swim and pull themselves up as they had lost too much blood.

Then when they woke up, nothing hurt. They could see, hear, smell, taste, and touch. For Marc, he was in some sort of mental institution for the mentally unstable, which was one of his greatest fears. Everything was quiet in his white padded cell, and he felt like he had been heavily drugged. Every room was decorated with Egyptian artifacts. Even his own cell had a sarcophagus for a bed.

For Steven, he had woken up in a cramped, cold, and dark box. He was screaming at the top of his lungs and pounding on the box for what seemed like hours, until Mark came and freed him. They had been in their own bodies, separated from the other, and they got to actually feel the other when they embraced. It was the weirdest thing for them, for they looked identical in nearly every way, save for their regular facial expressions, their posture, their hair style, and the clothes that they wore.

They told you how they had to work as a team to try and escape, only to run into a giant hippo woman named Taweret. They explained how she needed them to balance their scales, and they tried for so long to do so, before the boat got to the gates of the afterlife. They tried to find clues in their memories, and Marc finally told Steven the truth, how he made him up to deal with the world. They even found an empty cell with another coffin, but never had the chance to check inside. You knew right then and there they had some small clue that someone else could be lurking around in their body, but they were obviously in denial about it.

On some level, Steven and Marc were aware of Jake, but at the same time, they just ignored his existence.

They told you how they were attacked, and how Steven was thrown overboard, only to turn into a sandstone statue in the sands. Marc said that Taweret was quite sad, and that Steven would be lost forever in the Duat sands. He said his scales had finally balanced, because there was only one heart to weigh, and not two, and he was finally allowed to go to the afterlife.

But then Marc felt suddenly alone and scared. He felt like a large part of him was missing. He was supposed to be filled with elation, and no longer care about anything, yet he couldn't stop thinking about Steven. He begged Osiris to allow him to go back for Steven, and perhaps go back to the mortal realm, even though he was told he could be lost in the sands just like Steven. Marc went anyway, and got to Steven just as the sands claimed him, then Taweret came to help and Osiris let them back into their body.

The whole story sounded preposterous, but you believed it. You believed every word, and shocked them when you told them that. They had been so relieved, they hugged you while thanking you for not thinking they were insane. You rubbed their shoulders, enjoying the sweet closeness of their breath on your neck. With one last shuddering breath, you pulled away from each other, and saw the unshed tears in their eyes.

"Thank you so much for not thinking we are crazy." They both somehow said at the same time. You could distinctly hear both voices speaking at the exact same time. That wasn't supposed to be possible for a normal human being. You assumed it was the magic from the moon God, with them being completely unaware that they were still blessed by Khonshu's power.

"It's alright. You aren't crazy. From what you're telling me, you might have extra souls inside of you." You replied as you took a swig of your wine. They reached out to grab your hand, and you heard them sigh.

"Is it alright if we kiss you again?"

"Yes. I would think so." You said, and they leaned in once more. They kissed you nice and slow, their hands slowly going to your jaw. You sighed lightly, and kissed back with more intensity. Soon your tongues were slithering against each other, and before long, your hands were wandering all over their body.

"Fuck… You're so sexy…" Steven mumbled as you climbed into his lap. His hands came up your sides, causing you to arch your back and rock against him.

"Marc says he can't believe what's happening… He also thinks he should just sit back and watch. Let me actually have a bit of fun, before, you know… He comes back out." Steven slurred a bit. His eyes were displaying an aroused wonder as he cupped one of your breasts experimentally.

"I think Marc is right. He's got more experience than you, and he should allow you to earn your own experience." You replied as your hands dug into his shirt to feel his chest. He sighed, licking his lips as he watched you undo each button with one hand. While you did that, Steven slipped his hands under your shirt, up to grasp at your soft mounds one more.

"Oh, fuck.. Steven…" You whined at him when he found your nipple, rolling it between his rough fingers. His other hand came up to grab your shirt, and he pulled on the garment to take it off of you. When he was done, you were left in just your skirt. You weren't wearing any underwear, and you were excited to see his face when he found that out.

Until then, Steven appeared to be very enthusiastic about your breasts. He had both hands on them, gently rubbing and squeezing them as he watched how they moved in his hands.

"May I… Uh, kiss them?" He timidly asked, and you nodded with a salacious grin.

"Yes, Steven. You can kiss them. You can lick, touch, fondle… Oh… That's nice…" You trailed off as Steven dipped his face down to press his lips to one of your nipples. He gave you a little peppering of kisses, and then he sucked the tender nub into his mouth. You ground against him as he rolled his tongue over your sensitive flesh, you nipple held between his teeth.

Fuck he was so gentle, and he was teasing the fuck out of you with his exploration of your skin.

"So pretty…" Steven groaned softly. He pressed his face in the crook of your neck and left sloppy, wet kisses in his wake. You bet Steven would be this gentle the entire time, which was fine with you. He was essentially a virgin, while Marc and Jake weren't.

Or at least that's what you thought, up until Steven growled.

"I want to fuck you so badly…" He said, his voice now several octaves lower. If his accent hadn't lingered, you would have assumed that he had switched alters.

"Is that what you want to do, Steven?" You asked him, and he answered with another growl as he sucked on your neck hard enough to leave a bruise. You gasped, feeling one of his hands come down your torso, ghosting his fingers against your belly, and down to your skirt. He dove his hand under, and froze.

"No knickers? Oh… Such a naughty girl you are, yeah?" Steven hummed as he drew back to look at your face. You stared at him, eyes wide as he pushed his fingers into your folds without any hesitation. He swished them back and forth, wriggling one, then two, then three inside of your wet pussy, while his thumb found your clit in record time. The entire time you kept gasping his name.

"Ah, St-steven…"

"Lookit you… You're sopping… I must be doing something right, yeah?" He said with a thick husky voice. You didn't even know that Steven was capable of sounding like that…

Like Jake.

"It's your fault, Steven." You breathed back through a moan.

"It is, innit?" He chuckled into your ear as he pumped his fingers in and out. He was just barely missing your gspot, and you were growing frustrated. You knew his fingers were long enough, but you knew this was Steven, and not Jake. He probably didn't know what to do.

'Curl your fingers upwards.' A growling voice suddenly whispered to Steven. Steven paused for a moment, wondering if that was Marc, but he sounded different somehow, like he had a Chicago accent. You didn't show any indication that you heard the voice, so Steven pretended that he didn't hear anything.

'I said curl your fucking fingers. Puto idiota de mierda.' The voice suddenly sounded Spanish, and quite frustrated.

Steven blinked, and did as he was told. He curled his digits, and pushed upwards into a spongy feeling area. The result was you bucking your hips, grinding into his hand as you mewled his name.

"Ah, fuck… Steven!"

'Buen trabajo, gusanito.' The strangely familiar voice sounded slightly nicer, more affectionate, like a close friend would sound when praising him. Steven tried to ignore it again, which was very easy to do, since you were rolling your hips against his hand and nuzzling your face into his neck.

You felt his thumb go for your clit again, and you saw sparks as you whimpered and shook. A moment later, you felt a hot rise in the pit of your belly, squeezing and gushing all over his fingers. Steven knew enough to know you were having an orgasm, and he also knew that he wanted to taste you. He waited until your quivers and whimpers quieted down, before even daring to remove his hand. He slowly looked down at fingers, and sighed, seeing how soaked he was.

"Well would ya lookit that?" He murmured softly, and slowly brought his hand up to inspect it. He rubbed his fingers together, delighting in the texture as you whimpered at him.

"Steven… I… Thank you-" You tried to say, but then you witnessed him lick his hand, watching as his brows furrowed and his tongue slithered all over each digit. You felt the rising warmth coming back as he licked each finger clean, the way he did to the fork with the chocolate torte.

"Fuck, you taste better than tea…" Steven sighed heavily with a hazy look on his face. When he was done, he turned his gaze to you, and his brows furrowed. You were fully expecting Marc to come out, but instead, Steven growled again as he went for his belt and took it off as quickly as he could.

"Now I am gonna fuck ya." He grunted as he aggressively flipped you onto your back. He was quick to shove his pants and underwear down, discarding them to the floor. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched him as he grabbed himself and jerked his hand very slowly. The other hand went to tug on your skirt, pulling it off in one fluid yank without damaging it.

He hunched over you, a smirk dripping with mischievous intent. You suddenly felt his hands grab your thighs and tug you closer to him. He leaned down and kissed you hungrily as he entered you, his hips pushing forwards agonizingly slow. You let out a long hiss, hands going around his neck as he rocked himself into you bit by bit.

Fuck. You missed that dick.

"Mmm, God damnit, love. You've got a right small cunt." Steven's voice purred into your ear. You shivered and squirmed under him when he went still, fully sheathed and pulsing inside of you.

"St-steven…" You gasped his name, and he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes staring intently at you.

"Yeah. That's my name. It sounds heavenly coming from those gorgeous lips of yours." He said while he stroked your cheek. With another kiss, he started to thrust in a steady rhythm.

'Do it harder.' The voice spoke again. Steven was too far gone to care about why he was hearing it, and only focusing on the good advice that he was receiving. Each roll of his hips got gradually more controlled, and by the seventh thrust, he was slamming himself into you. Your loud cries of his name proved the odd voice right.

'Now hoist her up, hand on her ass. Tilt your hips back as you thrust upwards. Look into her eyes when you do it."

He pulled on your hips, angling himself at your gspot without even knowing it. He looked into your eyes as he thrust forward. The second he bumped into it, your eyes went wide and you screamed as you dug your nails into his shoulders. Steven gasped, as he was not prepared to be gouged by your nails.

He also was not prepared on how much he liked it. He was not prepared to be completely taken by the expression of ecstacy all over your face. He was not prepared to hear the familiar voice again, and he finally decided it sounded like a lecherous version of Marc.

'Reach down. Find that nub again. Rub it slowly.'

Obediently, Steven went down to the juncture of your thighs, his hand going down to where his girth disappeared into your tight wet hole. He pressed his thumb over your clit, and pushed in a slow and methodical way. You jolted, bringing your knees up to wrap your legs around his waist as you pulled on his hair.

"Yes, like that, Steven!" You cried out, bringing his head down for another kiss. Everything was going white in your vision, and the last thought to enter your mind was the way Steven kept whispering your name as you shook for him and gushed all over his cock.

"Oh Gods… Too tight... I'm…" Steven panted against your lips. He gasped, feeling you clamp tightly around him. His balls twitched and his shaft pulsed in a maddening way as he tried to hold back his impending orgasm.

'Pound her hard, Steven. Don't stop, even if you come.'

Steven couldn't argue with that logic. He drilled his hips as hard as he could, wrenching another shrill cry from you. He growled out when you bit his shoulder, and he buried his face into your neck to do the same as he spurted his seed deep inside of you. You sobbed as he kept fucking you into the couch, your nails gouging his back and shoulders, his come leaking out onto the couch.

"St-steven! Fuck! Yeah!" You writhed under him, twisting and muttering nonsense while he kept digging himself into you. By this point, your hands were gripping the sofa under you in an effort to stop damaging his back.

"Yeah, love. Good God, fuck…" His sweet voice had turned into an animalistic snarl as he reared back to look at you.

Steven was baffled at his own stamina. He couldn't quite believe that he hadn't just simply blown his load, and fallen asleep so Marc could take over. He had so much pent up frustration over the years, he was surprised even now as he pushed you down into the cushions and rotated his hips. Even as he grabbed your ankles and leaned back on his heels to thrust upwards.

'Jesus, Steven. I didn't think you had that in you. Fuck. Look at you. You're still going?' Another voice spoke up. Steven instantly recognized it as Marc's, and he huffed as he looked over at the lamp with his reflection. Marc was grinning ear to ear, with both thumbs up.

Should Steven say anything about the other voice? Probably not, since you were still moaning underneath him, and now was not really a proper time to say anything. Marc didn't seem alarmed, so he decided the voice must have been Marc, and he was just too tipsy to really hear him right. After all, Marc had done this before, many times with Layla.

Steven looked back down at your face. Your eyes were half closed, cheeks hot, lips swollen and stuck in a wide 'O' as strangled noises came from deep within your throat. He watched your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips, and how you reached up to grab at his waist for more leverage, nails digging into his backside.

'Hold her legs over your shoulder with one arm.' The other voice suddenly spoke up. Steven looked at Marc in the lamp, and Marc wasn't paying any attention to him, only on your gasping form.

So Steven did what the voice told him to. He maneuvered your legs over his left shoulder, and held them there with his left arm. He kept thrusting upwards, watching as you arched even more while putting your elbow down to help steady yourself. You wailed for him, chanting to him in garbled words of praise and desperation.

Well fuck. Again that little voice was correct.

'Wrap your fingers around her throat.' The voice ordered, and Steven did just that. It didn't feel right, and you wheezed in discomfort.

'Carefully! Don't block her windpipe. You want to slightly cut off the blood flow, just enough to make her light headed. To increase the pleasure fog.' It snapped at him when he grabbed your neck the wrong way. Steven was surprised that Marc's mouth hadn't moved during the little command, but he continued to appear unbothered by it.

What harm could this voice do? It was giving him all the best advice, and every single suggestion was working perfectly on you. It was resulting in Steven popping his cherry, and absolutely wrecking you into a puddle on his brand new leather couch. Steven knew it definitely wasn't Khonshu, as they were free of his bullshit.

'That's it, Steven. Look at her! You're doing a fantastic job! Oh, look, she's coming again!' Marc cheered Steven on as you thrashed about in his grip.

'Are you sure you never peeped when I was with Layla? Because, damn. I know I didn't even think to give you any of this knowledge, and you're doing it like a porn star, buddy!' Marc breathed as he watched you squirm under their body from his spot in the lamp. He was very excited for his turn, but he was also excited that Steven wasn't fucking this up.

Steven shook his head, his eyes still glued to the way his cock kept squelching with each push of his hips. He would have replied in a cheeky tone, claiming it was beginner's luck or some other bullshit, but he didn't wish to break the spell he had on you. He definitely wasn't about to admit some strange voice had told him what to do.

So instead, Steven let go of your neck, watching as you sighed and regained some colour to your face. He groaned, realizing quite quickly that it would be a while before he came again.

"How about we switch it up, love?" Steven murmured as he withdrew from you, watching as your hole quivered and leaked his come. You whined at the loss of his thick cock, waiting to hear what he wanted to do.

"My bedroom, yeah?" He said as he tried to regain his breath. You gave him a lazy nod, only for him to grab your wrists and pull you back into his lap. You yelped, feeling him slide right back inside, his sweat soaked skin rubbing against yours as he held you close.

"Yeah, sure, but…" You agreed as you motioned to your hips sitting over his, with him still buried deeply to the hilt.

"Not a problem, love, one moment…" Steve said as he put an arm under your bottom, and stood with ease. You clung to his neck, legs wrapped around him as he walked towards his bedroom like you weighed nothing.

To you that was normal, as it would make sense that Steven would be just as strong as Jake. Same body, right?

But Marc's surprised stare said otherwise. Steven should have been winded or a bit tired. He should have struggled, even just a little bit, but his movements were fluid and graceful, as if he was only just getting started. That was very suspicious to Marc, because he knew even he would have struggled more than just a bit…

More so because they weren't supposed to have the strength or stamina they once possessed while in service to the moon God.

Yet Marc ran through the various reflections to follow his alter, watching as Steven peppered you with more passionate kisses. Marc was growing a bit jealous, because normally just a simple wank made Steven tire quickly.

Just as Steven got into his bedroom and walked past the large wall of mirrors, Marc stepped into view to witness Steven's back. He saw blood smeared everywhere, and that scared him to know Steven had gotten off on that. Truth be told, Marc loved that shit, so maybe Steven liking it wasn't so crazy.

Marc got closer, and decided to count the scratches as Steven hoisted you up onto his dresser. Steven's back was right close to Marc, so the task would be easy for him.

He counted more than thirty scratches, forty seven to be exact, with about ten indents on each side of his hips. He looked up to see Steven was slowly rutting into you as he sucked a deep bruise into your neck. Steven's eyes were cloudy, and Marc did a double take.

His eyes were legitimately cloudy, with a thin layer of white covering both the irises and the pupils, and it was getting worse with each passing second.

Steven appeared to be completely drunk, and not off of the wine. Whatever was causing his eyes to cloud over, was also making him entirely forget about Marc.

'Hey? Steven?' Marc called out. Steven didn't respond at all, he just kept grinding himself into you as he made obscene noises.

'Hey, buddy..?' Marc tried again, but to no avail. Steven was long gone, lost in all the sensations, hearing only your cries of pleasure and his name on your bruised lips.

Marc continued to stare, and he glanced at their body's back again to recount the scratches to pass the time. When he was about half way through, he noticed there were fewer of them, and the scratches were smaller.

'The fuck?' He hissed as he maneuvered around to get a good look at the bruises on Steven's, well, his own ass as well. Those were fading quickly, right before his eyes.

'Steven! Damnit, why are you ignoring me?!' Marc bellowed at Steven. He even tried to use the body to speak, but he found that he was completely powerless to do so, like he was blocked out in the exact same way he had repeatedly done to Steven over the years.

Your head was tilted all the way back as Steven ravaged your throat, his hand holding onto your hair to keep your neck exposed. Marc could see a myriad of bruises all over you, and he was slightly annoyed that Steven was leaving very little space for him to mark you up himself.

Steven suddenly lifted you up, and took you over to his massive bed, Marc still watching in amazement. You were placed onto the edge of the bed with the greatest of care, with Steven hunched over you, his pelvis still digging into you with much enthusiasm.

You opened your eyes to look at him, gasping when you saw his normally brown eyes were now white and nearly glowing. For a brief moment, you honestly thought Khonshu had possessed him, that is until Steven spoke to you.

"Such a pretty little thing… Let's make a mess of my bed together." He said with a confidence you hadn't seen in him before.

Quick like lightning, Steven began thrusting again. Each buck of his hips sent you back up the hill of pleasure. You stared into his white eyes, mesmerized by how he hadn't dared to look anywhere but your face since he brought you into his bedroom. It made you wonder why he had kept the wall of mirrors, when all he could see was Marc, and not himself. Maybe that was why he didn't believe he was beautiful.

"Yeah…" You huffed back as he hauled your legs over his shoulders. He turned to your right leg and kissed the bump of your ankle, and then he licked towards your calf. When he got to swell of the muscle there, he sucked gently on your skin.

"Ah, fuck! St-steven!" You cried out, trying to wriggle your leg away from him, but he held on, refusing to let you squirm away.

'Bite her, but not too hard. Don't break the skin.' Again Steven heard that ever helpful voice. He did as he was told, sinking his teeth into your flesh just hard enough for you to gasp.

"Oh, yes… Yes sweetheart…" He felt you clench all around him, causing him to slow and push himself as deep as he could go.

'Stir her with our cock. Rub her cervix.' Steven heard the word 'our' and he grit his teeth. He glanced at the mirror for the first time since he dragged you into his room, and he saw a shocked expression on Marc's face. Without breaking eye contact with his alter, he stirred you nice and slow as he went to rub at your clit again with his rough thumb pad. You thrashed and bucked against him, curling your toes as you felt yourself squirt.

"Oh, God… Steven… Yesss…"

'Don't look at Marc. Look at her. Look at her face while she comes for you. Praise her.' The voice growled, and Steven's eyes went wide when it mentioned Marc. That, coupled with Marc not even appearing to move his lips, or hear the voice, his mouth still set in a hard line on his face.

Fuck. There was another person in his body, that, or some other spirit was plaguing them.

"Steven…" You said with a shaking voice, and his eyes snapped back to you. He could worry about the voice later, because yours was much more pleasing to hear.

"Shhh, sweetheart. That's it. You're doing fantastic. You take this cock so well… Such a pretty little dove…" He cooed to you. You moaned for him, closing your eyes as he gave you an extra hard rubbing to your overly sensitive clit.

"Shall I fill that sweet little pussy up again? Yeah?"

"Yesss…"

"Won't be long, love. Then you may have a rest, before Marc comes out to play, yeah? You'd like that, right?" Steven said as he ran a hand through your hair, and cupped your chin.

"Please… Please…" You whined in response as he tilted his hips to batter your gspot. You screamed, dragging your nails down his chest and leaving angry red welts in your wake. He hissed at the sting, his hips pistoning even harder. He could feel the rise of his orgasm coming, and he wanted to make sure you were satisfied with him, at least enough to allow him to do this again with you.

You surprised him by reaching under yourself to grasp at his balls. He groaned loudly, feeling everything go tight and hot.

"Here it is… Take my come, lovely little sky…" His voice cracked as he came, his whole body going rigid as he filled you with a hot rush of his come. You twitched and whined, feeling him stir you one last time, before he allowed your legs to fall back down to the bed. He rolled over and held you, panting heavily as he stared at the mirror where Marc was just sitting there, hand on his mouth in sheer wonder at how poor innocent Steven wasn't so innocent anymore.

Finally, Marc got over the shock and awe of what had happened. He watched Steven's eyes melt back to their original colour, and Marc got closer to speak to him.

'Jesus fuck, man. I think you wore her out…' He said, and Steven finally heard him. He saw how you were limp in his arms, your eyes shut as you snored softly.

"Yeah, sorry, mate. I suppose I got a bit too worked up for my first time." Steven whispered back. He laid there with you for a while, making sure you were asleep. When he was certain you wouldn't wake, he got up to find some clothes.

'She shredded your back. You were bleeding everywhere.' Marc said as he moved along the wall.

"Yeah… I felt it. I'm going to have a shower and freshen up. Do ya want me to go use your bathroom, and your soap? Cause, you know, when she wakes up it'll be your turn and all that jazz…" Steven rasped back, his voice hoarse from all the new noises he had made. Noises he didn't think he was capable of.

'Yeah. Sure. Thanks. But…'

"But what, Marc? Did I do something wrong?" Steven paused as he grabbed a simple pair of sweatpants and looked at Marc.

'Um… I dunno how to put this…' Marc looked at your sleeping form, all cuddled up in the puffy duvet on Steven's bed.

"Just tell me. I'm a big boy now, and I am sure I can take whatever criticism you might have. What did I do wrong?" Steven said with an amused chuckle. Marc sighed, putting his hand through his hair.

'Look, buddy… You didn't do anything wrong. Your performance was superb. It's just… Those scratches she gave you…'

"What about them? Didn't you tell me a 'real man' wears them with pride, and doesn't complain about it?" Steven quipped at him a sparky and dismissive tone.

'That's not it. Look, I was bored while I was waiting for my turn, and I counted forty seven marks, and at least ten on the sides of the hips…' Marc started to say. Steven turned to look at their body, and he squinted. He couldn't see any marks on his hips at all. No bruises, no scratches, no little dents.

Oh… Marc would never lie to him about something like this. If he said there were markings, then there were markings, but why were they suddenly gone? That didn't happen normally. It used to happen when…

Oh fuck.

Oh no…

'Plus your eyes… They went white.' Marc said as Steven kept trying to turn in a way so he could see his back. There was blood smeared every which way, but he couldn't see any marks aside from the ones you had left on his chest. Even those marks were quickly fading.

Shit.

"White? You don't think…" Steven softly said, a look of sheer horror on his face.

'Yes. White like a full moon on a clear night.' Marc finished for him. Steven put his hand to his mouth, and he glanced back over at you. He quickly looked away and fled his room, closing the door behind him quietly as he made a beeline to Marc's floor.

"That's not possible. Right? He's been gone for over two months now. No sign of him." Steven breathed as he placed both hands onto Marc's sink. He looked at Marc, pleading with him to assure him the opposite of what he was thinking.

'Think about it, Steven. Remember when we moved our boxes into this place? You didn't struggle with the boxes, and you normally do, you know, before that fucking bird came into our life.'

"Well he's not really a bird. It's weird, because he should look human, or have a hawk's head, but he has a corvid shaped skull…"

'Steven…'

"And he looks dead. He shouldn't look dead. Makes me think he isn't actually cut from the same cloth that the other Egyptian Gods are. Maybe he's an elder God. One older than even the Egyptian ones…"

'Steven.'

"Maybe he just chooses to look like that. It's odd, innit? But he is kind of like the emo goth kid, or the black sheep, er, black bird of the Ennead-"

'Damnit! Steven!' Marc shouted at him, and Steven abruptly shut up.

'The scratches. They are healing as we speak. You lifted her like it was nothing. Then, you banged her for a long time, blew your load, not once, but twice, and you're still standing. Plus, your eyes went white. Did you feel any different?' Marc listed off all the strange anomalies that he witnessed, and Steven hummed.

'Don't you fucking dare tell him about me, Steven, or I'll ruin your life.' The other voice growled. Steven gulped, and he turned to the shower to avoid Marc's inquisitive stare. He didn't want to test the voice at all.

"Uh, um. I'm exhausted. Feeling perfectly fine. Better than fine, actually." Steven quickly replied to Marc as he turned the water on and got inside.

'But the scratches!?' Marc shouted after him as he appeared in the reflections of the silver hardware of the shower.

'Tell that asshole that it's the residual power left over from your service to the moon God.'

"Uh, well, scientifically speaking, it's like a leftover build up of being Khonshu's Avatar for so long. We, uh, channeled his God like power, and he doesn't half ass anything. We're lucky, really. No chaffing on our dick. I mean, did you want to go back to being hurt easily?" Steven managed to say as he went for the shampoo that Marc had.

Marc was silent for a bit, obviously trying to think about what Steven had said. It made sense, but the eye thing was still bothering him. Hen could tell Steven was hiding something, but he didn't want to cause a scene and fight with him while you were still upstairs.

So, instead, Marc gave Steven a slow nod, and they showered in silence.

They were completely unaware that you had woken up while they were gone. You groaned as you rolled over and went to the ensuite bathroom attached to Steven's bedroom to check on your sore body. You could hear the pipes moving water, and you figured Steven had gone to use Marc's bathroom to wash up.

"I'm impressed by the worm. How are you feeling?" A deep voice spoke to you as you washed your face. You jumped, and turned to see Khonshu lounging in the bathtub, his long legs hanging out of the side of the tub.

"Jesus, fuck! Don't do that! What if Steven comes in here?"

"He won't. He is taking a shower downstairs. Now, answer the question."

"I feel amazing. Thanks, I guess? Wait, were you watching?"

"Indeed I was. Since Jake still serves me, I can see what he sees, if I so choose."

"But that was Steven. Jake wasn't… Oh fuck. Wait. Jake said he is always watching. Does he ever sleep?"

"Jake doesn't need to sleep. I can refresh his strength and stamina, like I did to Steven when he fucked you." Khonshu said in a very lewd and suggestive tone. If he had eyebrows, you bet he would have wiggled them at you.

"Well, I think you fucked up, you silly old bird." You said to him. Khonshu growled as he sat up.

"I do not fuck up, you insolent-"

"Shut your God damned trap. Steven's eyes were glowing white, and as far as I am aware, he looked at his reflection when it happened, so I can guarantee Marc saw that." You explained to him. You could feel the sudden dread as the moon God clicked his tongue.

"It's fine…" Khonshu muttered. He didn't sound very sure of himself.

"Is it really? Steven is very intelligent, and you're very well aware of that fact. He told me about you, you know. How he and Marc served you. They didn't exactly tell me you were a God, or your real name. They tried to call you Conrad, like Jake did." You explained to him. Khonshu let out an annoyed huffed.

"I fucking hate that name, but I understand why they use it."

"They told me about their journey in Duat, though. How they met Taweret, and how they almost died." You confessed to him. Khonshu tilted his head.

"They told you about that? Yet they couldn't tell you who I was?" He sounded a bit upset about it, but he didn't lose his cool.

"Yes… What are you going to do when they figure out you're still hanging around?" You questioned him. He sighed and looked away.

"Well? How about this, then… Since you told them they were free of you, are they no longer able to use your power?" You moved closer and leaned over the tub to glare at him.

"Well, uh… Technically, I have blessed Jake, which involves blessing not only his soul, but his body."

"So they have their own souls?"

"Yes. But also no."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Well, you see… Marc was the original. When he was very young, his younger brother died."

"Oh no! How did he die?" You asked as you frowned.

"He drowned when they were playing. His mother went insane. She started to drink heavily, and she blamed him for it…"

"No… Did she abuse him?" You asked with sadness in your voice. Khonshu nodded sadly, his shoulders slumped.

"Yes. Yes she did. It was not long after that, that Marc developed Steven's personality in order to escape the horrid reality his mother made for him. I'm still not very clear on how he did it, because Steven remembers her as a kind and loving mother, when in reality she was a terrible person." Khonshu sighed, and he stood up to sit on the edge of the tub.

"Oh, poor Marc… I'm sorry, but I don't see how his brother dying has anything to do with them having their own souls."

"Well, Marc did such a good job at creating Steven, that he legitimately developed a soul for his counterpart. He allowed Steven to grow and become his own person. When Marc couldn't deal with school work, he made Steven do it. Steven excelled at academics, and he adored school, whereas Marc loathed everything about school, except for the fact he was free of his mother during that time. Steven was in control most of the time, because when he was Steven, his mother almost thought her other child had returned to her. Whenever Marc took over, he was always in trouble."

"So, he made Steven, then made him a soul without realizing it?"

"Correct. If Taweret had weighed each of their hearts separately, Steven and Marc might have possibly made it into the afterlife. It was at that point, when Marc came back for Steven and placed his heart in his hand, that Steven's soul was completely formed."

"What about Jake?" You just had to know about him. He was so suave and kind to you. He was respectful and such a good lover. You loved the way he spoke, switching from that deep Chicago accent to that perfectly rugged Spanish one. You wanted to know if Jake had his own soul as well, or if he was just a stray persona.

"Jake… He is a bloodthirsty and dangerous man. Marc might have been a mercenary, but Jake is a ruthless killer. He is willing to do whatever it takes to keep people safe. When we sealed Ammit away into her chosen priest, Marc and Steven both refused to kill him in order to stop her from coming back, because Harrow was helpless and basically a weak and frail man. Jake didn't hesitate, and he did the deed without question." As Khonshu told you about Jake, your heart sank a little bit. A dark feeling was forming at the pit of your stomach. The feeling was very similar to the fluttering of arousal, but darker and scarier.

"He's a… Killer?" You said with a gulp.

"Yes, but he only kills those that deserve death. Ones whose crimes are worthy of such a terrible fate. You might have had the unfortunate task of cleaning up after many of the righteous judgements we carried out together. That night club that you cleaned… Jake was the man that had ended their lives." Khonshu said softly, his voice quietly echoing in the large bathroom.

Your eyes went wide. You almost felt sick. You had to clean up so much blood, guts, and brain matter. You remembered the families of the people who were killed had come to mourn as you had cleaned up the mess. You remembered how they sadly sat outside and lit candles for their fallen family members, even though they had been deplorable criminals, drug dealers, gang members, and hired hit men.

Jake had done that.

The man who hired you, and then promptly charmed his way into your pants.

You breathed in through your nose while trying to calm yourself. You were suddenly quite scared to be in the house, knowing full well that a real life killer was downstairs, somewhere, lurking around in your boss's body.

"Are you alright?" Khonshu's voice brought you back to the present. You huffed and realized you were gripping the side of the tub quite hard. So hard, your knuckles were white and your hands were shaking.

Were you okay?

Of course you were okay. You hadn't done anything wrong. Jake was no threat to you. He was a good man that was completely devoted to his God, and by that logic, he only killed those who deserved it…

But you saw the police reports. One of the head members of the drug ring was also a well known human trafficker. He had be brutally tortured, his skin flayed from his body while he was still alive. When the police had found him, he was barely clinging on to life. He was unable to speak, as every tooth had been pulled from his mouth, his tongue cut right out, and his jaw was shattered.

"Was Jake the one that did that to the one guy? Skinned him and broke his face?" You asked and Khonshu sighed.

"Yes. The man was trafficking children." Came his firm reply.

You decided that even if that was a gruesome way to deal out justice, Jake was out there, getting shit done that the police could not. You took a deep breath, and then looked at Khonshu.

"Does Jake have his own soul? Who made him?"

"Ah, well…He was born from the blackouts they constantly had as children. If there was ever a situation that either Steven or Marc could not handle, Jake came out and dealt with it. Beatings, whether receiving or giving. Saving Marc and astern from certain death. Most of the time it wasn't pretty. I would say he does have a soul now."

"Wow… That is amazing… So what special perks did you give Jake, and what did you give Steven and Marc?"

"Oh, well, each one gets their own disguise. Different suits so to speak. You have seen Jake's without his mask on. He was in it when you met him. He chose an easily blendable suit, so that he could get lost in a crowd. A nice collared shirt with ancient symbols, jacket filled with hidden pockets, two guns… Flat cap with a crescent moon pin, driver's gloves with crescent moon on the knuckles. The knuckles are also lined with metal. He has dark slacks and leather bespoke Oxfords."

"What? That sounds really smart. What does Marc's suit look like?"

"He has white gloves, like mine, and wrappings and basic chest and shoulder armor. A cape, a shendyt, and a hood. He has a crescent moon on the front of the hood, and another on his chest. He also has a mask of wrappings that covers his entire face. He has white leather boots. He uses small metal crescent moon projectiles and silver knuckles."

"Sounds traditional, like the way you're dressed." You said, and he nodded.

"And then there is Steven. Steven gets a white three piece suit, a pair of white trousers, a white vest, white dress shirt, white suit jacket and white running shoes. I am unsure as to why he chose those, but it was up to him. He has a crescent moon stitched into the forehead of his mask. He has an eldredge tie, and white leather gloves similar to Jake's. Everything has an Egyptian flare to it, from patterns to actual hieroglyphics. He can use the crescent projectiles, but he prefers two truncheons."

"Oh damn. I have a weakness for men in suits." You said with a giggle.

"So, if that's all you would like to know, I must go. The water is turned off down there. I suggest you get into the bathtub. Get cleaned up for when Marc is controlling the body."

"Well, get the fuck out of the tub, then." You said and Khonshu gave you a low bow as he stepped out of the large tub.

It was one of those tubs that could fit two or three people inside, with jets, and the idea of a nice hot soak seemed delightful to you. You turned the taps on and set the tub to fill, then went to do a pre-clean of yourself so you could enjoy a good long soak without Steven's come leaking out of you, which it was. You blushed when you realized you were completely naked, and Khonshu was still standing there.

"Will you please go. They will be back soon, and it's supposed to be Marc. He will be livid if he sees you."

"Too true. Thank you for keeping quiet about it. If they find out Jake is a part of them, that's fine, so long as they are blissfully unaware that Jake serves me. I will see you later." Khonshu thanked you and gave you another bow. When he straightened up, he faded away completely.

You got into the bath and relaxed for a little bit while you waited for Steven or Marc to return. The tub was divine, and the jets were soothing for your poor aching muscles. The temperature was just right, and it maintained it until the user was done, so you could sit in it all day without it growing cold.

It had maybe been thirty minutes of lounging in the tub, when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" You playfully called, and you heard a clearing of a throat.

"It's Marc. I've brought the Sangria with me."

"Oh, hello, Marc, do come in."

***

I'll leave it there for now.

Edit: Thank you @mics59 for your Spanish skills.

@snippychicke @johnny-simpfinger

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pencil-peach · 6 months

Text

G Witch Onscreen Text: Episode 12

And so, we have reached part 13 in my attempt to transcribe and discuss the text that appears on monitors and screens in G Witch (and talk about stuff I think is cool)

This is the Episode 12, the season 1 finale: "Keep Marching on Instead of Running Off."

<< Click Here to go back to Episode 11

Oh, but you'll have to change before you can join me under the cut.

You have to wear a normal spacesuit while reading this post...

Like episode 11, this episode is actually very light on text, (for obvious reasons..) so I'll also spend some more time discussing little things in the episode I think are interesting.

The text on the panel for the EV (Elevator) reads C BLOCK No. C - 6 The EV is arriving shortly.

It also has 3 symbols on the bottom, with one crossed out. It's hard to know what they mean, but my best guess is: - Communication (Which is currently unusable due to the attack) - Multi-Directional (As in, isn't a one way elevator, can go back and forth) - Capacity (In this case, multiple people can use it at once.)

Also, in this scene, Miorine talks about "opening the bulkhead from the control center." What she means is she wants to find the control center so she can open the giant wall that separated her and Suletta. The first thing that both girls thought of doing when they were separated was rescuing the other.

Also, also, the fact that C Block still has some semblance of power despite having been fully disconnected from the rest of the plant must mean that every individual block must have some sort of reserve power system in case something like this happens. I wonder how expensive this place was to build....

I really like the scene where we see Sophie activate Permet Score 4, because I think they put so much focus on it in order to put a lot of things we've seen earlier into perspective.

Up until now, we've only seen 3 characters (other than Eri but she doesn't count) activate Permet Score 4: Nadim in the prologue, El4n in episode 6, and now Sophie.

I think the first thing we can see when we compare these instances is how, broadly, Gundam Pilots have generally been made to become more resilient to Permet in the 21 years since Vanadis.

As far as we can tell, Nadim was probably one of the most skilled Gundam Pilots at Vanadis. (Other than Eri but she's like. cheating.)

Even acknowledging that he hadn't piloted a Gundam in some time (He says as much when he first activates Permet 3), he's still incredibly adept at controlling GUND Bits and nearly singlehandedly holds off the attack by Cathedra. (Thought Wendy's efforts must also definitely be acknowledged.)

When Wendy starts suffering from Permet exposure, Nadim tells her that she can't raise her score any higher

We never see or hear exactly which score she's at, but her Gundam is deactivated by the Antidote, which only works up to Score 3. So she's either at 2 - 3, and she's clearly suffering its effects harder than Nadim, who's also at 3 at this point.

But despite Nadim's clear adeptness at Piloting the Lfrith and his much stronger resilience to Permet, when he activates Score 4, he dies nigh instantly. He doesn't survive longer than a minute.

When Gundams had first been developed, Score 3 was considered the absolute limit, both in terms of what a human could bear and what Gundam tech could handle.

We can see this reflected on the Lfrith itself. When first launched, and up to Score 3, Lfrith's body appears completely normal.

But when he activates Score 4, its entire body glows bright red as opposed to just its GUND components. A sign that its bearing a load it can't handle.

And when Nadim finally dies, we can see its body is also horribly scarred with Permet Burns.

Sophie's Permet 4 scene is a showcase of how Gundam Tech has evolved in the 21 years since Vanadis.

When Sophie activates Permet 4, she's pushing up against the human limit. Her heart is pounding so fast and so hard we can hear it over the music. She says she can't breathe and might even throw up, and unlike El4n, she's not an Enhanced Person. She's entirely unaugmented, but unlike Nadim, she lives.

Gundam Pilots have become more resilient since Vanadis, but also of note is that they've also gotten younger. We don't know the ages of Nadim, Wendy, and Elnora, but they're all clearly adults. In fact, we only ever see Adults piloting Gundams in the prologue. When Prospera realizes Eri reached Layer 33, she's horrified, and I wouldn't be surprised in part because a child piloting a Gundam is just something that had never been done before.

But now, Gundams are piloted almost EXCLUSIVELY by young people. Younger people are raised and trained and experimented on at earlier and earlier ages because it seems that, for some reason, they are just better at being able to handle them.

The tech has also improved much since then. Whenever Lfrith Ur reaches score 4, that device on its shoulder unfurls and activates, and retracts when it goes back under. the Ur and Thorn were built off of the pre-production Lfrith models, and in order to get around its Score limitations, they just added an extra Permet Processing unit to its back to bear the extra load.

El4n is a special case, and his reaction to Score 4 in comparison to Nadim and Sophie stands as a testament to the effectiveness of Bel's Artificial Nervous System. At Score 4, El4n acts more like he's under the symptoms an unenhanced person would experience at Score 3.

All that suffering just to reduce the permet load by 1. How sad.

Anyway, the EMERGENCY EXIT Suletta uses is labaled as an EVACUATION PASSAGE.

It also has the same 3 symbols as on the elevator. If we try and apply the same labeling method as I used on the elevator, then.. -Communication (Offline) -Direction - One Way -Capacity - 1 person. The direction and Capacity make sense, but the communication is a little dubious? Maybe that symbol designates if it leads to an exit or something....

Normally, when Miorine refers to her dad, she calls him "Kusoyaji," which is a portmanteau of "Kuso" (a general swear word usually meaning 'damn' or 'shit'), and "oyaji" (which is a word for father) Calling him a terrible dad, but in this scene after he protects her and she sees that he's critically wounded, she shouts "Otou-san!" instead, which is a more common/respectful word to use for your father. This is localized into English as having Miorine usually call him a "Lousy Father," or something similar, but in this scene she just calls him "Dad"

We also learn a little more about Notrette in this scene, as when Delling tells Miorine to choose the best option of survival and leave him, he says it's what Notrette would do, and that they'd both decided at some point that if anything happened, one of them had to survive in order to raise her.

It's not much, but it seems that Notrette was a very logically minded person, who always looked toward the future in her decisions. I wouldn't doubt that Delling tried to save her, but left without her at her own insistence.

Sometimes I feel as though this scene is paralleling that incident in a way we can't know, and Miorine managing to save Delling here implies that if Delling had tried and not ran away, he could have saved Notrette. But that's just speculation on my part.

There's no real way to prove this, (other than the fact that their voices sound similar) but I've always believed that the closeup of this DOF member we see when they enter the plant is the same DOF member that Suletta kills at the end of the episode.

When Vim launches in the Dilanza Sol, he comments that he worked his way up the corporate ladder by "personally claiming his rivals' heads." It's most assuredly a figure of speech, but um, well.

Like father like son.

When Guel launches in the Desultor, he tries to communicate to the Dilanza Sol, but remember, the comms are jammed, so it returns an error.

After the deed has been done, the network begins reactivating, and we see NETWORK ONLINE appear on Guel's monitor.

This is our first sign that the DOF are starting to run out of time.

I think a lot about this scene. Maybe not in the way you're supposed to think about it though. I just can't shake this idea that Prospera intentionally waited for one of the soldiers to be right in front of Suletta before killing them. She and Godoy had been standing there the whole time, on both sides of the hall. Surely there were better times to have attacked them than when they were right in front of Suletta.

Maybe I'm not giving her enough credit but wouldn't it make sense? She needs Suletta to be okay with the idea of killing someone. Wouldn't seeing her mother do it in order to save her life be perfect for that? Prospera barely comforts her afterward either. She immediately explains to her that if she hadn't done it, Suletta might have been killed, and that fighting can save everyone.

And of course, it's obvious, but I just love the symbolism in this shot. It's so good. Suletta stepping out of the darkness and crossing the line, led by her mother's blinding light, onto the bloody path. It's so good. Such a good fucking scene. Grrggrhgrh

The music that plays during this fight between Suletta and Sophie is titled AERIAL REBUILD

youtube

If you haven't already, you should give it a listen. It's genuinely one of my favorite tracks in the entire OST, top 3 at least, and we don't hear much of it in this scene.

During their duel, Sophie calls Aerial REBUILD's face "scary" and says she "liked her better before."

Aerial is no longer pretending to be a machine made for silly school duels, that line has been crossed, and its true purpose is beginning to be revealed.

The truly terrifying thing about REBUILD's GUND Bit Cannon is that we never see it at full capacity. In fact, this one time we see it, it's at its WEAKEST strength. All mobile suits used in Asticassia have a regulation program installed that limits the energy output of their beam weapons. (With this restriction, all energy weapons only produce green colored beams.) Despite being off Asticassia for months now, Aerial NEVER had that program uninstalled, so its Beam Weapons are still at their lowest output. And, Despite That, the beam produced by this cannon is...

This Powerful. It's so powerful, that when Aerial uses it, you can see it have to activate its back thrusters to counteract the recoil.

It's SO powerful, that it completely melts the legs of a Desultor who just happened to GRAZE it ever so slightly.

Not to talk about future episodes here, but I actually cannot stress that it is genuinely a miracle that Miorine forcefully shut Aerial down in this moment in episode 17.

Because, and I mean this with zero exaggeration, Suletta would have ERASED GUEL and SPLIT THE SCHOOL IN HALF if she released the charge on this god damn canon.

Lord In Heaven, Prospera.

TEXT: SUBJECT: Business Correspondence FROM: Peil Technologies To: ELAN CERES HIGHEST PRIORITY

An attack has been made on Plant Quetta by the terrorist orginization 'Dawn of Fold' 2 unidentified MS using GUND FORMAT were confirmed. We will contact you later with further instructions.

This is the email 5lan receives from Peil after the DOF leave. They got that information quick, huh? I wonder how... We also see that he only ever receives Business Correspondence emails from Peil and Course Schedule updates from Asticassia in his inbox. He doesn't have any friends.

And with that, we have completed Ep 12, the entirety of Season 1! Wow...what a ride it has been thus far...

Thank you for coming on this journey with me...!

Whatever happens next, we'll face it together, won't we?

Episode 13. >>

Masterpost.

#g witch #gundam the witch from mercury #Youtube

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