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sommerregenjuniluft · 3 days

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@jegulus-microfic june 9th — lip gloss — 1017 words — cw: slightly nsfw brought to you by james' dirty mind, tw: amab term used for reg's genitalia aka mtf regulus, red heart shaped sunglasses and james potter's thoughts about kneehigh boots

The lights in their flat are dim, music is playing and the air smells faintly of tequila and lime already.

James has been staring at Regulus reapplying her ‘lip combo’ for the past five minutes without blinking. One could reason it’s because Regulus is literally using his sunglasses as a mirror but James argues he wouldn’t have let himself miss out on this for any money in the world either way. He would have found a way to get a front row seat.

The red, heart shaped glasses on his nose do nothing to help him see but that’s why he’s got his contacts in. There’s a cool hand at James’ stubbled jaw, angling him this way and that because Regulus needs proper lighting, Jamie. Stop moving into the shadow!

First she’d fished around in her small ass purse—how does anyone even fit anything in these little things ever?—and procured a thin, dark red looking pencil of sorts. Regulus has gotten all up in his face, wiggling closer where she was sitting on his leg, rubbing her ass all over James’ lap and by God, James has never felt so lucky and tortured simultaneously.

Anyway, Regulus had started following the shape of her cupid’s bow, outlining her lips. Her hand had rested right between James’ pecs at first to steady herself, right in the middle of his chest. James hoped she couldn’t feel the wild beating of his heart, the irregular heaving of his torso. She was talking to Pandora while doing so, about some mutual friend James has no clue about but he wasn’t registering any of the words either way. Much too fascinated by the small moles next to Regulus’ left eyes, by her dark lashes, her icy blue eyes. Ruthlessly captivating, breathtaking and immobilising like the bone deep chilling northern sea.

James isn’t sure he remembers how to swim.

Next is a red lipstick. Regulus’ parts her mouth and James has to suppress a groan. He’s only mildly conscious of the way his palms make their way up over Regulus’ hips, coming to rest in the dip of her waist, thumbs windshield wiping over the silk of her green dress. It’s some sort of nightshirt, actually, with black lace detailing and clearly thrifted. Well loved but in good condition and James has been breaking his brain over what she might be wearing underneath for the better part of the last hour. Ever since Regulus had stepped over the threshold of their flat in her kneehigh boots and that flimsy excuse of a dress that James wants to see crumpled on the floor of his bedroom rather than anywhere else. Preferably while Regulus is splayed out naked on top of his sheets, tits out, cock out. The boots can stay on.

“Fuck,” present James mutters quietly, blinking himself out of his obscene fantasies. Regulus’ leg adjusts and brushes against where James is starting to fill out in his pants.

James squirms.

“Stop that,” Regulus tsks, tightening her hold on his chin.

The yes, ma’am on the tip of James’ tongue nearly tumbles out but he manages to swallow it back in time.

James tries to glance around the general area around them out of the corners of his eyes, “Is your brother around?”

“Why?” she asks immediately. Her lips are completely filled out with a deep berry sort of red now. Then Regulus is digging around in her purse again.

“Just ’cause,” James replies offhandedly, shrugging.

Regulus hums, low and deep, sceptical and it’s so unfairly sexy. James licks his lips and sighs a long breath out. Level head, Potter, he tells himself. Level head.

The final step seems to be lip gloss. It’s not clear and translucent but rather has a bit of a milky quality to it.

James chokes on nothing.

Regulus takes it up to her lips and spreads the fluid on her full red lips. It creates a foggy sheen and James is powerless against the mental images of cum slick lips. Both of their cum mixed, James licking it from Regulus’ stomach and then climbing back up. Hovering and tugging at her lower lip until she opens obediently like a good girl and lets James spit it right onto her mouth.

Regulus leans closer and makes some little p-p-p noises where she smacks her lips together to even out the gloss, presumably. James doesn’t know. Don’t ask James anything right now because the gloss is kind of pulling strings and James is this close to doing something violently indecent to his best friend’s little sister.

Regulus puts the gloss away and then taps against James’ cheek, announcing happily, “Thank you.”

“Any time,” James mumbles.

He expects her to stand up now, join Pandora where she’s conversing with other people on the sofa, but instead Regulus wraps her arms around the back of James’ neck, keeping the close distance. “Y’know,” she starts, shifting in James’ lap, “I haven’t seen Sirius in a while. In fact, I think he might have gone off with Loopy.”

“Lupin,” James corrects automatically, trying to make sense of what Regulus is saying. She’s so warm and soft pressed against him, it’s distracting.

Regulus makes a whatever noise and tilts her head, “I’m guessing they went to his flat instead. Rumour has it, it’s close by.”

James nods in affirmation because that’s true. Remus does live close by.

Regulus’ fingers wind themselves into the curls at James’ nape, “Smart lads. Going somewhere a little more private.”

James nods again, numbly. He feels stupid in the head.

“By the way,” Regulus keeps going, “Have I seen your room in this flat yet?”

And James might be stupid but he’s not an idiot.

A slow grin spreads over his face and then James has to lean forward to muffle an equally happy as aroused groan into the crook of Regulus’ pale neck.

“Is that a yes?”

James leaves a kiss on her cheek when he pulls back, squeezes her hips and then lifts them both off the chair, ushering Regulus through the crowd and into his room.

When they come back out, Regulus’ legs are wobbly and there’s red lipstick stains all over James’ mouth and neck and the heady taste of cum in his mouth.

#jegulus microfic #jegulus #trans fem regulus #starchaser #sunseeker #trans regulus #james potter #regulus black #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #mtf regulus #mtf regulus black #lune’s tiny fic

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pupyuj · 15 hours

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okay hear me out... nerd!annyeongz (g!p) who take the reader to pound-town for teasing them🤭🤭

[new anon unlocked!]

-🐶

lordt apologies to 🐶 anon IT'S BEEN LIKE... MONTHS?! 😭 this ask was collecting mold in my drafts omg BUT EHE i'm lucky i had some stuff on it so i can just continue where i left off :DD this is gonna be a bit long too so bear with me ya’llll 😭✊

you weren't their bully, per se... but you would be lying if you said that you didn't make fun of them every once in a while 🤭 they just looked like the biggest losers ever, how could you not? 😭 baggy sweatpants, big hoodies, thick glasses, noses glued to their textbooks, always scribbling something in their notebooks... but at least wonyoung knew how to style herself, yujin was fucking hopeless! and you always made sure she knew,, either by making fun of her outfit for that day, her messy hairdo, and the rugged way she carried herself around the halls... you're always on yujin's ass for no reason 😒😒

and then there's wonyoung who could totally climb on the very top of the social hierarchy if she so wanted to. she was extraordinarily pretty, moderately rich, can definitely fight bcs you were always impressed with how stingy her side-eye is, but she wants to stick with her loser best friend 🙄 stupid girl...

seeing them together always made you excited bcs they were your daily dose of serotonin, for all the wrong reasons! but the thing doesn't happen until you catch them alone in a mostly empty classroom one day, huddled up in the back corner engaged in casual chatter with their textbooks and notebooks cluttered on their desks as usual... you were bored so you decided to pay them a visit!

"you know yujin, i always wondered—" you rudely interrupted their conversation, earning the usual frowns you get from them whenever they see you. ugh wonyoung was so cute glaring at you since you were once again attacking her bff just for the fun of it,, yujin was even cuter. head hanging low, fidgeting with the cuffs of her sleeves... but god she looked pathetic :(( "—how you would look without these..." you pulled yujin's glasses off her face before either of them could react,,

DSKHKSMVK your breath getting caught in your throat after seeing yujin without her glasses??? "well damn.. who knew you could be so sexy, ahn?" you teased, licking your lips and shooting the tall girl a suggestive look bcs she genuinely did look fucking hot???? "you should keep this look! or else you'll never get laid! that's gonna be a waste of that big dick." ofc that was the one thing about yujin that was appealing to you :((

🫠 wony being the one that gets the courage to stand up, trying to snatch yujin's glasses back but you raised up it in the air, laughing and just being a little shit 😭😭 it was funny until you found your ass backed up against their desk, now wonyoung looked intimidating bcs of how much she towered over you and that scary little glare she had on 😰 “leave unnie alone. this is the first and last time i’ll ask.” see now that made you laugh again! she was intimidating, sure, but oh her face was just too cute! and you couldn’t take her seriously when she wore that stupid sweatshirt with the university mascot on it! she even matched with yujin! “what are you gonna do? punish me?” you teased, tilting your head and giggling.. you were so annoying 😭

and then wonyoung sneaks her knee in between your thighs, shutting you up immediately bcs now she was wayyy too close 🫣 “that’s a great idea actually. i always wanted to know if the ‘campus whore’ deserved her title.” whoawhoawhoa 😳😳 you wouldn’t even be able to spit back since wony raises her knee and presses it against your cunt! and ofc you whimpered… and ofc wony doesn’t waste the opportunity to grab your hair from behind and force you to look up at her… “unnie, you wouldn’t believe how wet she is.” wonyoung tells yujin, dark eyes locked onto yours while she slowly moved her thigh… 😵‍💫

“i-i wanna feel too…” yujin was quick to put her hands on you! bcs in truth, even when you're so horrible and straight up rude to her, she secretly gets off to you 💔💔 she’s kinda creepy with it too… stalking your social medias, admiring your pics and jacking off to them from time to time… and every time you’re all up in her face being a bitch all she can think about is using your mouth and filling it up with her load… maybe she’ll get that chance today! 🤤🤤 while wony’s making your ride her thigh, yujin has already ripped your uniform open and pulled your bra down to fondle your tits with her shaking hands… god she was so clumsy! 🙄 (she has never touched a girl in her life, give her a break!)

and both of them make their little dreams come true with their favorite position: yujin seated on a chair while you’re deepthroating her as you’re bent over with wonyoung pounding your tight ass with her own monster of a cock 🫣🫣 you couldn’t believe that the two losers filled you up better than any of the guys or the hot girls you fucked before.. it was almost humiliating how into it you were! allowing the dumb virgin ahn yujin to grab the back of your head and move you up and down her length.. she was so obnoxiously loud that people wandering around the halls probably heard her 😳 and then there was wonyoung who clearly had a lot of anger to express towards you! ramming her cock in your hole and driving herself crazy with how well you can take both of them! fuck, if she was petty enough she could get you pregnant… but that was a mission for another day 🤭 for now she needed her revenge, and that she will get, that’s for sure! 🫢

poor yujinnie who’s too caught up in the feeling that she practically forces her cum down your throat.. she doesn’t hear your gags or feel how you’ve drawn blood on her thigh with your sharp nails 😣 “f-fuck… yujin-unnie, y-you have to fuck her for real… so fucking tight i can’t believe it.. ah!” ugh being talked about as if you were some kind of toy by jang wonyoung of all people was degrading by her voice was unnaturally high-pitched and whiny.. she (and yujin) was so cute and this all felt too good to fight against! 😵‍💫

and that was how the two biggest losers(?) of the campus got their way with the school whore with the big mouth 🤭 they may or may not have kept you in the classroom for a couple hours more.. just fucking you to their hearts’ content.. and it got even more fun when you ended up feeling like you didn’t have enough of them and invited them to your dorm room.. 😳

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undercoverpena · 1 day

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16. apple green

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter sixteen of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: dad!frankie. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. FLIRTATION TO THE MAX. an: this chapter made me beam from start to finish. like my face hurts.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

It’s long, your exhale. Stretching out slow and full, cheeks still tingling with the lingering ache of laughter as you gaze at the horizon.

Just where the sun dips; its final rays painting the sky in lavender and rose. You're joined by a gentle, warm breeze whispering through the air, carrying the salty scent of the sea and the soft hum of waves caressing the shore's golden sand.

The air is cooler now under the encroaching dusk, as the tide steals the footprints, making them vanish.

And it’s perfection. All of it.

A moment you wish you could pause and live, exactly like this, for a handful of hours.

The sound of flip-flops meeting soles is what eventually ruins it.

It pulls your glance over your shoulder, watching his approach—shades shielding his eyes, hair loose in slightly longer curls, it almost dry from your earlier fun in the water.

Then you see his smirk. The one which grows as he nears, knowing what you’re thinking, even if you try to hide it. Because if you had gone to grab pizzas, you’d be face down in the sand—food ruined, embarrassment smothering over your cheeks. But, he carries it one-handed like it’s nothing. A bottle of soda under his arm and a plastic bag dangling from his wrist, as you shift on the blanket that’s still warm from the sun, arms reaching up to help.

“Hey, Butterscotch.”

“Hey, Mi lluviosa.”

You don't even fight how you beam at your nickname's new variation. The one that had slipped out when he'd turned his alarm off, eyes all closed with your face buried into his neck.

The jingle of his car keys sounds as he throws them to the edge of the blanket, watching him join you as the scent of melted cheese, tomato and toppings greet your nose before you even open the box.

“Smells so good.”

He utters a soft agreement as your knee abuts his; periodically glancing at him as you grab a slice, chewing with a smile as he wrestles with his toppings and strands of cheese from tangling in his beard.

By the time you’re both full, the chill of the evening air is making you shiver, when you gently slot the cardboard lids back into place. Tenderly, as you watch another wave rise and crash against the beach, your palms tenderly brush up and down your arms.

He notices—or must do. Moving onto his knees to dig around the duffel you’d both brought—a jacket pulled out, before sliding it around your shoulders, coming to sit behind you. Legs on either side as the scent of him joins you.

Toes wiggling in the sand, his hands sliding over your legs, you turn. “Would you rather be a jellyfish or a starfish?”

Exhaling a groan, your back comes to rest on his chest. Eased there, guided. Your ankle accidentally nudges one of the half-empty pizza boxes in your movements—a thing you hope remains sand-free from when you get back to his and decide you wish to nibble on a little more.

Blowing out a puff of air, it tickles against your ear as his arms come around you. “Jellyfish.”

“Is it because they glow in the dark?”

Laughing, kissing the side of your head. “No. But that is a good reason.”

“You want to sting people, don’t you?”

Sliding your hand around the back of his neck, fingers scratching at his hair, smiling, biting down on your lip as he presses another kiss.

“Maybe.”

“Deviant.”

Softly blowing against your ear, drawing shapes along his scalp as he whispers, you love it.

And you do.

Fuck you do.

Do you think I need to reconsider jeans and a black tee for what we’re getting up to today?

No, you’ll be fine. I’m putting up some shelves is all.

Does this mean you’re going to tuck a little pencil behind your ear?

Do you like the idea of that?

Might do.

I’m beginning to worry you’re with me for my hobbies and not me.

How about you stop looking so hot when you do your hobbies?

I’ll try. It’s hard to turn off.

HA HA HA.

HA.

You're there, in a stranger's home, for all of ten minutes before you realise that you’re not needed. Not that Frankie says anything.

Only confirming it when you ask, “You sure you don't need me to hold this?” Voice-breaking the quiet hum of the electric drill he’s holding.

Carefully re-positioning one of the wooden shelves against the wall, his brow furrows in concentration, a single dark curl falling over his forehead as he glances from the step-ladder, eyes nothing short of warm and twinkling despite the overcast light. “I've got it, but your company makes it easier,” he replies, tone nothing short of affectionate, sweet, truthful.

“Francisco Morales, did you want me here as eye candy?”

He buries his answer with the drill as you wander over to the window smirking, seeing that the sky is still a thick blanket of grey, clouds heavy with the threat of rain. Even without the window open, you know the air is cool, likely damp, carrying a hint of petrichor as you turn on your heels, watching from your new position.

You don’t suppress the small smile that plays on your lips—something comforting about the sight of him so focused, so intent on getting everything just right.

“Could you just pass that for me?”

Smirking, you quickly move over to pick up what he’s gesturing at, turning it over in your hand. “This?”

“Please.”

Biting your lip, grinning. “What do I get for it?”

“The knowledge I’d be done earlier.”

Tilting your head from side to side, you scrunch your face—almost wanting to twirl the tool.

“What if I wish that you'd do me yourself, Morales?”

Pausing, the wood in his hand lowers down the wall as he turns his head, staring, mouth falling open before he eventually rests the plank against the wall. Slowly coming down the steps, across the plastic-covered floor, it all scrunching under his boots. “That what you want?”

His hands slide around your waist, palms flat, dragging along the fabric that covers your skin, rippling fire out across your body as you curl in, arch, ghosting your mouth over his.

“We can’t fuck in this person’s house, Frankie.”

Groaning, low, deep in the back of his throat, you smile—mirroring the one he traces across yours. “Remind me why?”

“You make me messy.”

Grunting, pressing it to your neck. “Yeah?”

Nodding, biting your lip, pulling his face up by your palms on his cheeks, mouth ghosting over his. “Really messy.”

Inhaling, you feel him agree. Mouth meeting yours, before you ease his nose to your lips, pressing a kiss. “Finish drilling, Morales. Then we can go home and you can drill me.”

He mumbles something in Spanish under his breath.

Guess how my morning has been?

Wonderful? Full of coffee and people asking for tips on how to twist a screw in.

No, not everyone is you. Harold has asked me three times when he’s next seeing you.

Oh yeah, I should really return his call for our second date.

I know you’re joking, but ouch.

Don’t worry, Francisco. He’s just a side piece. You’re the main. I want to get lunch, do you want me to bring you some and then you can pee around me so he knows?

Please. He keeps asking if you like diamonds.

Tell him I’m not mad at a diamond.

Shooting a wink at Harry, he lifts his chest up from his leaned position on the counter. Head dipping, fingers sliding across his lips as though they’re a zip before tapping his nose.

That familiar scent greets you just as graciously. All fresh-cut wood, spilt paint and lemon disinfectant, as well as Harold's aftershave. The one change—the biggest—is the missing crackle of the radio, you had found a compact, newer one a few weeks back, placing it on the counter with a big red bow and a card for Harry.

Bag swinging in your fingers, it’s a hunt to find him. Peering down aisles, eventually spotting him crouched—cargo trousers doing their utmost to remain stitched across his thighs.

You’re grateful he wears an apron that covers his groin. Half-fearful of the eye contact you’d give the area in what he’s currently wearing.

Digging your hand into the bag, and retrieving the top plastic carton, you do a little wiggle down the aisle with it.

“What’s this?”

Shrugging, stopping just before him as he stands. “Cake?”

Placing his clipboard down, narrowing his eyes as he takes it, turning it over.

“Butterscotch—that’s the flavour.”

Scrunching his face, he sighs. “I… I don’t know if I like it, baby.”

“Well, more for me.”

Smiling, pressing a kiss to your cheek, he motions to peer in the bag. “You like it?”

“Well, I like you.”

“Not sure it’ll taste like me.”

Tongue in your cheek, looking him up and down as he straightens, you wait a beat, and then another, before adding, “Shame. Guess I’ll have to keep eating you then.”

“Menace.”

Moving close, lips almost touching his, you whisper the same words he said to you only a day or two ago, you love it. A low whine leaves his lips, stifling it against your mouth, a crooked finger under your chin, making kissing a little easier.

“Wanna eat in the office?” he asks.

“I was thinking we could eat as you cut wood. I love sawdust seasoning.”

Pinching your side, not able to stop the giggle, he turns you on the spot, leading you back down the aisle you’d come down. “Go in, I’ll be a moment—just gonna tell Harold that I’m going on break.”

Nodding, twirling on the spot, you wink. “Tell him I love him.”

His palm manages to catch you on your ass as you roar with laughter.

Butterscotch Morales.

I’ve been first named.

Did you put flowers on my car?

Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.

You lured me there to be romantic?

Well, it is very hard to be romantic when you’re at my house.

I can go home early if you want.

Don’t you fucking dare.

Noted.

I also think you’re doing just fine in the romantic department. For one, they’re gorgeous. And the deep clean you gave me in the shower this morning still has my thighs shaking.

I don’t think you know how good you look with soap suds on your skin.

I have an idea now.

You fancy anything particular for dinner tonight?

Can you be on the menu?

I think it can be arranged for dessert.

Okay. Then tacos?

Double helping for me then.

Francisco!

You’re smirking I can feel it from here.

You know before you open your eyes what day it is. A mixed blend of emotions that flood you as you wake to the thick scent of freshly brewed coffee, breakfast—maybe eggs, you can’t be sure.

Heart both full and heavy as it coaxes you from your sleep, your lashes flutter, eyes blinking as you stretch your arm out across his dark bedsheets. You hate that you can feel the warmth fading. Dismay flutters in your chest, as you begin to fight the urge to roll face down into his sheets and glue yourself to his mattress.

“Morning, baby,” he whispers, interrupting, eyes finding him in the doorway, leaning, head resting against his bicep, a slither of his stomach on show as his top pulls up. “I’m making us breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he replies, palm patting against his thigh. “If you want a shower, you have time.”

“Telling me I smell?”

Tongue sliding over the front of his teeth, he smiles—mischievously. “Maybe I just want you to smell like my soap for when you go home.”

Home you think. A tightness in your chest all but inflicted by the word. Four letters. Barely anything. Yet, you have to bite down on the inside of your cheek when he kisses your forehead and heads back out of the room.

It bubbles as you glance around the room—his room—taking in the cosy armchair with your jacket laid over it, the photograph of you and him surrounded by ones of Luca, Frankie and Luca or his friends.

Then, you hear him singing. The sound makes your heart throb at the same time as it brings a smile to your face as you head to his bathroom.

You find that the only benefit to showering is wrapping yourself in his cosy robe before you make your way to the living room.

Frankie lounges on the sofa, hand patting the spot beside him. You eagerly curl up next to him, nestling your head against his chest as his arm wraps around you, the other hand resting on your knee, thumb tracing soothing circles.

The tray of breakfast sits on the coffee table. You reach for a piece of toast, nibbling as you settle in. After a moment, you taste it—the eggs cooked just how you like, the toast perfect, just the way you love it. Of course, he has.

Frankie watches you with a tender expression, his fingers continuing their gentle caress on your knee.

“You excited?” you murmur between bites, “He’ll be here soon.”

Hand stroking over your leg, he swallows. “Yeah, I’ve missed him,” he replies, his voice a low, comforting rumble.

You look up at him, your heart swelling with love. “He’s going to have so many stories.”

Snorting, he runs a hand down his face. “Oh, I know.”

You smile, let the tranquillity of the moment wash over you, savouring the simple joy of being with the man you love. Curled up together. “Thank you for letting me see him before I go.”

His cheeks flush slightly, and he leans down to kiss the top of your head. “You know you don’t have to go.”

Staring at him, thumb swiping over his upper lip, removing the crumb from a slice of toast. “I should. Before I never leave.”

The tip of his tongue peeks out, swiping across his lower lip as his fingers do a dance on your leg. “That doesn’t sound half bad.”

Rolling your eyes, picking up your coffee. “You can ask me better than that, Morales.”

You don’t add that you hope he does.

Draining more of your coffee as you stare at him over the porcelain, placing it down before kissing his cheek.

“I should go pack.”

His groan follows you as you head back off to dress—folding things, shoving others into a bag and cleaner clothes back into your drawer.

It’s a try, an almost fail to not feel a sting of tears as you leave your bag on the bed.

The embers of it flickering inside of you even when you take over cleaning for him when he tells you Sam’s car is pulling up. It almost douses it, his joy, drying the mug in your hand when you peer into the living room as the front door is flown open and you see Frankie bear-hugging Luca as Sam follows in behind him.

Miss you’s turn into excitable tales. Occasionally translated by Sam as you wipe the side free from water, closing a cupboard quietly and drying your hands.

Then, when you’re about to slyly move into the room discreetly, you hear her call your name.

For a second, your head turns, but you don’t move. Just glancing, pulse pounding in your ear as you find Sam smiling, waiting, brows slightly raised as though you hadn’t made it up that she’d spoken your name.

“Can we talk… outside?”

It takes all of your restraint not to flick your eyes to Frankie.

For what, you’re not sure—reassurance, need, it all blurs into a stew inside of you as you reply, following her through the living room and out of the front door.

Nails digging into your palm, you try to breathe. In and out, out and in. But it builds.

And it builds.

Unable to stop the anxiety shifts into something thicker, less easy to keep down. It rises in your throat, choking you. Something similar to bile, as your head runs through a thousand things—whether you’d been too much with Luca, whether Frankie hadn’t shared that you’d be here, whether and whether and—

“I wanted to thank you,” Sam begins, smiling, hands linked together in front of herself, “Frankie… he’s a great, great dad—”

“The best,” you add. And then shame blooms over the anxiety at interrupting.

Sam, though, doesn't seem fazed. If anything unbothered. “The best. I’m very lucky to co-parent with him. But—”

Your stomach knots. Tightens.

A ball swelling inside of you as it becomes harder to breathe, to take full ones that fill you with air and rational thinking.

“I know he didn’t help make all those things.”

Oh, you think.

Shoulders unlodging from your ears, sliding down to their normal place.

“You must have spent hours on them,” she continues, a soft line in her forehead appearing as her face lightly scrunched, “All of them. The t-shirt? The candle? The card—the card, was so, so nice. It was so thoughtful. I can’t… I am not ashamed to admit I cried my fucking eyes out.”

Shifting your weight, a smile breaking out, “It was all Luca’s idea. I just wanted—”

“I imagine some of it was, but not all of it.”

You blink. It’s that or let your eyes fill up too. Seeing her staring, watching, with nothing but gratefulness on her face.

“I’m… I’m glad he has you,” Sam says quickly, almost hurriedly. “Luca. And Frankie.”

Her hands come around her waist before relaxing at her side, lips rolling, looking as nervously as you did moments ago.

“Thank you, for helping him with the gifts,” she continues.

Swallowing, you nod. “Anytime—if that’s okay? I… I don’t want to be anything but Rainy to him.”

Smiling, she inhales. “I know.”

“Good.”

A beat happens, the two of you finding yourselves admiring the other when you hear Luca’s laugh echo out of the house.

“So, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what is it with Rainy?”

Laughing, you press your hand to your face, watching her smile, waiting—patiently. “It’s a stupid joke, Frankie’s doing.”

Sam raises her brows, and stares in waiting, gesturing for you to continue.

“Okay, well—”

The next time it rains, can you kiss me in it?

Baby I’ll kiss you whatever the weather. Am I allowed to ask why?

It’s romantic, isn’t it?

Are you watching a movie?

Maybe.

And we haven’t kissed in the rain. We’ve kissed nearly everywhere else.

Well, I’d hate not to have kissed you everywhere, baby.

What’s happening in the movie?

Lots of declarations.

Ah. Lots of when we first met, I wasn’t looking for someone, I was running from it. But, you really wanted to try and build something, and before I knew it, I was falling.

That kind of thing yes.

I miss you.

I miss you too, baby. The bed feels strange without you asking me random questions.

I think watching this was a bad idea.

Answering his call, you don't pause the movie—just turn the volume down. Curling further into your couch as you tug the blanket up your neck, bringing his voice to your ear.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby. Is the movie making you sad?”

Nodding, you swallow back the lump in your throat. Tears springing, the ones that had already fallen.

“You choking up so much you can’t reply to me?”

Laughing, tears spluttering, you sniff, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand as you grin—half-shaking your head. “How’d you know?”

You hear rustling, imagining him in bed. In the middle of the place, the two of you have been sharing. Wondering if he can smell your perfume, whether he misses the extra warmth of your skin like you currently miss him.

“‘Cause I know you. And, you do this little sniffle you try to hide and—”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, hearing him laugh, it tickling down your ear, making your chest go all warm like it usually does.

Like it always does.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have put this on.”

Snorting, it’s followed by a groan. One you now know he does when he stretches, when he’s trying to loosen the tightness in his back.

“Why did you?”

Because I miss you, you almost reply. Unsure how he couldn’t know, wouldn’t. A horrid thought burst through everything, standing all determined in the wake of nothing but only joy and happiness for days. Making your heart hurt, shrink and fall somewhere along the pit of you. Because maybe he didn’t know, because he didn’t miss you.

Maybe he felt happier that he had his home to himself, his bed, his things—

“I miss you too, Rainy.”

A gasp escapes, one enriched in emotions, fresh tears falling as you pause the movie, curling up more, knees pulled up as he repeats it.

“What do you miss?”

He snorts again, but more full of tease, “Fuck, where do I even start?”

“At the beginning of the list.”

“Oh well, firstly, I miss the fact I’ve not been asked if I would rather be a cactus or a house plant.”

And you smile. It stretches out, sliding into your cheeks—for the first time since you came home to emptiness—you feel happy again, even as another tear rolls down your cheek and you ask, “Well, what would you prefer?”

Frankie laughs. It flows down the phone, somehow brightening your own home, even if he’s not inside of it. It makes you kick off the blanket, stand up, turn the television off—and the lights—and walk the lonely route to your own bed.

Half-wishing you’d taken him up on the offer of staying one more night.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales

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on-leatheredwings · 1 day

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Secret Admirer

Yandere! Dick Grayson / Yandere! Green Lantern! Gender Neutral Reader

> romantic > tw/cw: yandere behaviors. Kissing. Heavy petting. > rated M > summary: You should stop playing with fire. Because when you do, you make him want to be crazy. Crazier. And Dick’s worked really, really hard to wrap those habits up. > a/n: wow nothing truly despicable in this one i’m so vanilla now <3 the reader is male to me but feel free to imagine what you want. I rlly like writing pre-yandere + pre-relationship stuff, it’s so fun . may write more for actual smut possibilities > word count: 1472

Newly-acquired powers or not, you are really poking the bear here.

Dick has known you've been following him since yesterday. He allowed it because who was he if not a performer? He thrived on attention, and especially yours. But today, you had gotten too close to a fight. Sure, you had stayed an appropriate distance away, but the fact it had happened at all was worrying. It made him distracted. Distracted enough that he wasn’t pulling his punches on criminals like usual.

“Now that it’s getting quite late–” he begins, to which you audibly gasp. An adorable sound. “–how about you finally come out and let me help you?”

He turns around to a swath of darkness that paints the rooftop’s entry door in black shadow.

Behind the corner, you curse. Damn it, he caught you. … Well, you could’ve told yourself this would happen. Dick, the fine friend he was, surely said it would. No one really ‘sneaks up’ on one of the Bats. And definitely not Nightwing, the most tenured of them all aside Batman himself.

You got caught, and lord knows what Nightwing will do to you. You bite your lips, mind running wild. Who knows what Nightwing will do to you, indeed? You feel a pang of arousal at the thought.

You step out of the shadows, trying to act natural. Nightwing’s eyes lock onto your humble form, and you find yourself warming over every inch of your body. You want him bad.

His body stiffens, for reasons you can’t discern. It doesn’t seem like hostility… you think?

You adjust your domino mask, cursing silently that the adhesive is finally starting to give after a long night of following him around. Stealth isn’t really a natural gift for a Green Lantern, either. Turning down your glow while using your powers to maintain soundless stalking was hard. Harder than expected.

“What are you doing here?”

You smile, hoping your giddy expression is hidden by the hoodie you’ve chosen to wear on your escapade.

It certainly is not, which makes Dick pleased.

Now that you've made contact with him, his first thought is that he ought to tell Batman about this. And the rest of the team, while he’s at it. Dick Grayson knows that Nightwing is your 'celebrity' crush, and that you're enamored with the rest of the Bat Family. What if you confronted them someday as well?

On the Batcomputer is a file on John Stewart, complete a footnote that is you. Said footnote has graduated to its own page, now that you have your own hero exploits to document. They'd be less welcoming and more wary of a hero on their turf. He has to protect you.

“I… I…” you croak, tongue heavy with anxiety. You can’t help but be nervous.

“Sometime tonight?” he teases.

“You’re beautiful,” you blurt.

He is taken aback, before he recollects his wits.

“I really like you,” you say again, stepping forward. He lifts his hand in warning. Stay back. You get chills, but don’t stop treading forward. You can tell his eyes are narrowed beneath his mask.

When he’s finally in arms’ reach, you are pushed against the wall. And not roughly at all, you notice. You smile with delight, your hands immediately landing on his shoulders. Nightwing’s glare doesn’t feel hostile at all. Suspicious, maybe. But not hostile.

“... What do you mean by, you “really” like me?” You suspected that he probably wouldn’t believe you.

“Well,” you fluster, “I mean that I really like you.” Dick’s heart jolts. “And I want you.” It nearly flatlines.

Oh, don’t say that, don’t say that, Dick thinks, despite the elation that begins to tighten his throat. You? Want him? If he had known all he needed to do to grab your attention was put on the suit, he would’ve done that ages ago. He felt nearly invisible to you during the day, all his flirtation falling on deaf ears and blind eyes.

At Nightwing’s silence, you lick your lips. An action that makes his eyes dilate behind his mask.

“I-I’m serious!”

Nightwing leans in closer, as if inspecting the truth in your expression, raking over every atom.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he breathes.

“It’s not a game at all to me,” you say, feeling lightheaded from the small distance between you two. This doesn't feel real.

To love and be loved is all you’ve ever wanted. You’d think that would give you the violet ring of Love. Instead, the ring that had appeared in your hand one fateful night was acid green, sparkling and mesmerizing. Apparently, instead of embodying love, you simply were driven enough to seek it at any costs. Driven enough to never be alone ever again.

You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps, it said. You had taken it without hesitation.

“Kiss me,” you say, hands rising to cup his jaw. As if he’s not already leaning in.

Your lips meet in an unabashed frenzy. You’re nearly blown away by the pure amount of feeling in his kiss – that's quite a lot of emotion for a stranger. Not that you aren’t equally impassioned. You feel so raw and naked, kissing him. You hope he can't feel all your insanity, your obsession, your infatuation.

However, Dick certainly does, so much that he moans openly, the sound making both your lips buzz.

You make him want to be crazy. Crazier. And he’s worked really, really hard to wrap those habits up.

You shudder, feeling the pressure of his cup press in between your thighs. God, you wished you could feel the real thing. Your hand slips in between you two, tracing the lines of his abs. Dick shivers. He peels off your domino mask, but you don’t even flinch. You don’t care if he knows who you are. You want him to know everything. Inside and out.

Your eyes flutter open as you gyrate against his hips, sinful and frustrating. You peer up at him, cheeks blazing. You want him.

He looks into your eyes, and it's as if he can read your mind. He wants to swallow you whole. He wants to map every inch of your body. His cock is painfully straining against his suit. You are not a want, but a need.

But Dick is trying to be good, he really is. The night’s not over. He’s still on patrol, technically. You may want Nightwing, but do you want Dick Grayson? If he fucked you on this rooftop, throwing restraint into the wind, would that be taking advantage of you? Do you just hero worship him? All the questions fly through his mind at rapid speed, and he wants them to quiet, before the Angry Orphan inside him decides to just stop caring completely.

But he… he’s strong. We don't have to be, his mind interjects, screaming at him. But he quiets it. He whimpers at the tightness against his groin, a sound that makes you look at him curiously. You are completely blissfully ignorant to his inner strife. Completely innocent.

Dick narrows his eyes, channeling his best Batman impression.

“You should go home.”

You balk almost comically. “W-wait.” Nightwing retreats, but not before you can grab his wrist. “At least– at least, can we go on a date? Or even hang out? Or–” His thumb traces the curve of your lips, silencing you with a shiver.

“Go home.” Firmly said, yet gentle.

You frown, though it’s more like a pout. Man, you’re cute, he thinks. “When can I see you again?”

Dick certainly isn’t strong enough to be responsible and say “You can’t.”

So Nightwing just stares at you, looking… hesitant. The pieces click in your mind. Ah, so he liked it. Your lips curl, like a cat with cream. You take that as a victory.

“... I-I’ll come back tomorrow night,” you state boldly, stealing a chaste kiss before he could argue. Dick has to basically pull himself away, despite his desire to keep your bodies flush and perfectly fitted against one another.

You slip your ring onto your finger, and your entire body glows, rampant with Lantern light. You begin to float.

“Tomorrow!” you blurt, already wanting him again. You zip away, flying home. All the while, you slap at your warm cheeks, trying to see if this is a dream, laughing with glee, mind going haywire with heated fantasies. You kissed Nightwing. You basically groped him. And he didn’t stop you. Oh god, wait until you tell Dick.

The confrontation went better than expected. At worst, you figured Nightwing would shoo you away, reject you. Despite the abrupt ending, he at least seemed… interested? You try not to dwell on it too much. It doesn’t matter.

You’re a Green Lantern. You’re powerful. Willful. He will be yours, someday.

#yandere reader #yandere batfam #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere dick grayson #i'm back................................#this will likely have sequels b/c i need more scenarios for smut to happen in #and this is a good backstory for me to write abt i thinky <3

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tvlandofficiall · 20 hours

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i really like seam. with a sizable amount of dialogue, a wonderfully composed theme song, some very interesting connections, and a sharp personality that lends well to thinking up interesting character interactions, they’re a character who more than deserves to be recognized in their own right. surprisingly though, i don’t see a whole lot of analysis out there when it comes to this slept-on stuffed animal, especially when compared to more recent introductions to the speculation scene like dess holiday or big plot movers like the knight. a lot of the analyses i have seen, both the kind that aligns with or has informed my own reading and the kind that does not, has either been long-deleted or lost to time. but tucked away inside seam’s seap is one of the most interesting characters in the game to me, and i want to shine a light (or perhaps, more fittingly, take a step into the darkness) on just what makes them such a fascinating addition to deltarune and its writing here, since most of the other seam analyses i’ve seen around are either long-deleted or are few and far between.

ANALYSIS

FATE

to start talking about seam (or any darkner, for that matter) we’ve got to talk about fate.

after all, fate and agency are all but literally the name of the game here. and seam has quite a bit to do with both of those things. right away, they tell us a couple of very important things. the lightners, they tell us, are like gods to the darkners, and they’re the ones who give the darkners their purpose.

they are actually the first to bring up the concept of a darkner’s purpose to us, and for good reason.

purpose is a concept set up all throughout chapter one, and then paid off at the end of it – once we see that the darkners are all objects, it all comes together.

an object’s fate is to serve and assist the person using it, much like kris’ fate is to serve and assist us as a player in using the game deltarune. (you need a player character to play, after all.) this setup lets the concept be further explored in chapter two, especially with spamton, but we’re here to talk about seam.

seam, being a darkner, is an object – a stuffed doll, to be exact. they’re actually the one ch1 darkner with a unique sprite in the light world, interestingly enough – so even if you end up missing their seap, there’s a little clue left to catch your eye and prompt you to seek them out. this is something that will come up again in later sections – they’re someone that’s made out to be quite important to a certain segment of the game.

but seam isn’t the soft and fluffy sort of personality a stuffed animal might typically be assigned as. (that honor goes first and foremost to the prince of the dark himself.) no, seam is a fairly snide old cat, and they certainly don’t have any pretense of considering you heroes when you first meet. they’re a doomy, gloomy, type of person;

and they do it all with a smile on their face to boot. they’re also quite a nihilistic personality, making no secret of the fact that nothing much here matters and that they sure aren’t too bothered about that. unlike their king, they don’t express much anger at their situation nor struggle against it in any way. they’re plenty content to stay right where they are – they don’t even come out to celebrate with everyone when the party goes to seal the fountain!

and there’s an additional reason for that, too –

seems they not only know the kingdom’ll vanish, but they know it’s fate that our party’ll make it happen, too. (lancer, as a contrasting example, doesn’t know until it’s already happened.)

as for the fate of an object, though – well, they tell us themselves. neither light nor dark hold anything for them.

as demonstrated through the other characters; be a useful object, and you’ll be rewarded with fulfillment, love, and attention. be a useless object, and you’ll be left abandoned, unfulfilled, and desperate. but either way, every object becomes useless eventually – no matter how many times you’re patched up without a choice in the matter. either way, you’re still an object – and either way, your fate is a pretty bleak one.

so why try fighting against something as steadfast as fate? it’s fate, after all! seam’s certainly not spamton – they don’t bother themselves with any pretense of breaking strings or defying destiny. and unlike the companion that led their worldview down such a dark path in the first place, they don’t find any freedom in their nihilistic outlook or in the kingdom’s purposelessness.

though such nihilism does, in an ironic twist, cause them to be the one who poses the question – if they’ve lost any care for the light or for its absence, could they find “purpose” in another darkner instead? could they find meaning in what little is their own?

TELEGRAPHED IMPORTANCE (OR; GAMEPLAY AND STORY INTEGRATION)

jevil and seam used to be quite close. before the knight arrived and all four kings ruled together, the two of them were a part of their court – seam the court mage, jevil the court jester. one day, jevil met a strange someone, and the things he’d told seam since that time have led their worldview to grow – in their own words – darker yet darker. this seems to have been the cause for the mindset described above – if the seeds of such a mindset hadn’t existed already.

seam doesn’t exactly know if they’d consider him a friend. but he was the only one who could match them in the games they’d play together – but match up to what, exactly?

through the power of setup and payoff, we can find out. when talking to jevil before his battle, the jester mentions wanting to play one of his games with everyone once he’s out. and he’s happy to play this game with the party, too.

the game itself is, of course, his boss battle. it’s a deadly “numbers game” where he holds most of the cards as one of the (if not the) strongest bosses in the game. and so when seam mentions playing games with jevil before he began to see the whole world as such, we can infer from this context what those games were. it’s a payoff to what jevil set up during his fight – like two people throwing a ball back and forth in narrative form.

we get some good characterization out of this, too. seam’s not just a fan of the games they played with jevil, they’re downright ecstatic about them – even asking the party eagerly to tell them what happens when they meet with jevil, saying they almost wish they could watch! a little chaos is nothing short of thrilling to them.

but this isn’t the only setup and payoff seam’s got going on. jevil’s fight also introduces the secret bosses’ main throughline – the shadow crystals. after the party defeats jevil, a crystal is added to our inventory, and talking to seam lets us do something with it.

the shadow crystals are a popular point of speculation, and seam is sitting at the very center of the mystery. it’s they that collect the crystals, supposedly to stitch together something incredible for us. there’s also the added mystery of the unused purecrystal item – seemingly, seam may also have the ability to purify these crystals too – but i’ll get into that in a later section. for now, let’s talk about the crystals.

to bring seam the crystals at all, we’ve got to talk to them in their relocated shop. they’re the only shopkeeper who retains their full shop menu in castle town – spamton is absent from town altogether, rouxls and swatch do not have menus at all, and sweet cap’n cakes’ shop is remodeled into a jukebox with limited options. as such, they are the one to retain the updating, lengthier talk menu afforded to the shopkeepers. they also retain their unique shop theme – a waltz remix of the battle theme, “rude buster”. already, they’re set up to stand out.

and when we do talk to them, they has a number of varying reactions to the crystals based on the order in which you collect them. many of these contribute to the mysterious nature of seam as a character, as the context in which they occur changes what would otherwise be quite similar dialogue.

if you defeat jevil and bring his crystal to seam, they’re surprised to see that he had one. but, if you haven’t, seam pesters you about it – clearly implying they know you’d have gotten a crystal from him if you had. still, they’ll say the same surprised dialogue once you do bring jevil’s crystal to them – causing you to wonder if they were playing coy about it or not the first time around too. how do they know how that mechanic works? was there some strange intuition how they’d learned his defeat gave us the crystal, or did they know all along?

regardless, we know one thing’s for certain – seam knows what a shadow crystal is. they recognize the first crystal you bring them immediately, explaining what a shadow crystal is, that they’re held by powerful darkners, and later, implies they may come from special connections to the lightners. they’re obviously quite familiar with these crystals, leaving us to wonder just how they did and what the extent of their familiarity really is. what exactly do they want with these crystals? why do they know so much about them? why do they act so sketchy when we talk to them – there are quite a few moments that read like they’re trying to scare or bore us away given how often they say such things.

(seriously, they do this a LOT.)

and there are a few more moments where they allude to knowing things they shouldn’t, too – like the power of the next foe we’ll face and the nature of the neo body.

this mystery is, as mentioned before, another way in which setup and payoff are used to keep seam within the loop of the secret bosses’ storyline. seam prompts us to discover more crystals and tells us how to do it, we go to discover more crystals and meet spamton (who has both incredibly important thematic stuff and a difficult boss fight in his arsenal), and we bring spamton’s crystal back to seam. this sets seam up as the connecting thread of the “secret boss” arc of the game. (in other words, similarly to how ralsei and susie are central characters of the main story, seam is the central character of this section of the story.)

(and if you've ever played slay the princess, these segments are another good point of comparison.)

overall, they’re telegraphed as an important character both thematically and to this storyline of the game in a more strictly mechanical sense.

EXTRACANONICAL MATERIAL AND OTHER LOOSE THREADS

EXTRACANONICAL MATERIAL

to really get into the weeds of why seam is being telegraphed as an important character, i’d like to talk a bit about some extracanonical material as well. this information, while less immediately relevant to the game itself, is recent enough (specifically, it is all official content published after ch1’s release) that it’d like to consider it here – albeit in its own separate, much smaller section.

there are several pieces of extracanonical material and one or two unused items that are relevant to seam. the first of those is the seam ripper, a weapon detailed in the undertale cross-stitch book.

there isn’t much to say about this that isn’t explained in and of itself.

the second of those is this answer from the twitter qna that followed the spamton sweepstakes;

“cat/puppet” seems to match up to seam pretty accurately. plus, in addition to the obvious “puppet” status that darkners have at the whims of fate, “poppet” can be another word for “doll”.

finally, there is this unused item that draws a fair bit of speculation.

because it remains unused, it is far more dubious than the former two in terms of relevancy. it could end up remaining unused due to not making sense with the presented version of the game, or it could end up being implemented later due to it seeming like something to be introduced later as opposed to an older concept that got scrapped. however, because it is such a dubious item, i likely won’t be dwelling on it in this section as much as the former two things i’ve mentioned. still, i feel it’s worth mentioning. seam may have yet another trick up their sleeve when it comes to the crystals.

UNDERTALE

keen-eyed players may have also noticed another thing cueing seam as important – namely, their similarities to a certain character from undertale. deltarune, being a game not only about us as players but about us as players of undertale, uses symbols and signifiers of it to induce a variety of reactions in the player. although they are not identical to these characters – nor should they be, as this is a story about a new cast first and foremost – the cues still let us know these new focal characters can at times be similar to ones found in undertale. think of it a bit like how a character losing their shoe on a staircase can often be meant to make you think of cinderella.

seam has a few of these cues. the first is their eye – a dead ringer for one of flowey’s creepy faces. it spins clockwise just like a face flowey makes before his boss fight at the end of a neutral run. this cueing makes a lot of sense, given flowey’s also a bit of a nihilist (i’d suggest going back and watching flowey’s monologue at the end of a no mercy route – the whole thing is very relevant.)

they’ve also got a face that, when flipped horizontally, looks much like the mysteryman sprite – often speculated to be gaster – as well as the aforementioned drop of the infamous “darker, yet darker” line in reference to their descent into madness.

the secret bosses all seem to have more than a few signifiers of the man, and it makes perfect sense that the darkner standing at the center of the mystery would have them too. perhaps such a strange person is a part of what motivates them…

CONCLUSION

overall, however, we don’t yet know much about seam. they’re keen to tell us a lot of things about a lot of people, but their own story and motivations remain unknown at this point in the story. however, that doesn’t mean they’re unimportant – i’ve detailed here why i think they’re set up to be a central character to the secret boss arc, and i think that they’re far more worth keeping an eye on than they might seem at first glance.

#ooc #seam #deltarune #PHEW. this took a while. it's sort of a masterpost and cleaner version of all of my older seam posts that've been making the rounds again #i couldn't include screencaps of all the text due to there being so many of them but all of the dialogue referenced is in the text dump if #you want to check it out for yourself!

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giamee · 1 day

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🏵️ ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐒!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ blade x poledancer!reader

request ؛ ଓ @/anon i am on my KNEES for a drabble or fic of fem or gn reader seducing blade. take full creative liberty just PLEASE

gia's notes ؛ ଓ ok this officially marks the start of my blade x the weeknd extended universe. anon thank u for this JUICY juicy prompt <3 i hope that i did it justice

word count ؛ ଓ 1.0k ( + suggestive content but nothing explicit, really unsexy description of a pole routine from yours truly, no pronouns but reader is wearing a skirt, HIGH heels and thigh garter :p )

THERE'S A NEW FACE HERE TONIGHT. near the back, dark hair and dark eyes scanning the room rather than remaining transfixed on you. that's not something you see every day. it's not just that, but it's all of his body language that makes you think that he's here for other reasons than to watch a show and maybe heckle you in hopes of getting lucky later. he's got his arms crossed against his broad chest, positioned oh so carefully to be able to survey as much of the room as possible.

you wonder who, or what exactly he's looking for as you keep doing your routine. it's a shame, you think. you'd much rather have his attention than the drunken faces hooting and hollering at you, trying to catch a glimpse up your skirt as you do a spin around the pole.

no, he's more... refined. there's an element of self-restraint to him that you rarely see here, and though it really isn't a high bar, it still draws your attention.

you wish that he would step into the light a little more. you could make out his features, just barely thanks to him being so far away and the dim lighting of the club. from what you could tell, he was handsome, all dark and brooding and serious. just your type.

here's the part where you have to focus. you tear your gaze away from the mystery man, rather regrettably, instead fixing your grip on the pole, pulling yourself off of the ground and letting your legs fan upwards as your world tilts on its axis and you're now spinning whilst upside down.

the clamoring crowd at your feet goes crazy, hooting and hollering like they always did. it was a tired routine but they were always impressed nonetheless, if the amount of bills flying at you was anything to go off of. and amidst the chaos of it all, your eyes still manage to travel past them all and meet the ruby eyes of the man stood against the back wall.

he wasn't just letting his gaze wander this time, either. he was really looking at you, all of his attention focused on your movements. a little thrill ran down your spine at this revelation, the connection between the two of you remaining unbroken even as you dismounted as the song ends.

your wish came true. his interest had been piqued.

while he may not be at your feet cheering, you still recognised that look in his eyes that he gave you. the one of lust, an underlying hunger that blazed deep and clawed its way to the surface. it draws you in, keeping you pinned in place even as you danced, and suddenly he was the only person that mattered within this entire building. suddenly, he was the only person that you were performing for.

the next song started playing, a slower one that relied more on sensuality than feats of acrobatic strength. good.

you let your fingers trail along the pole as you take sultry steps around it, finally letting your hands curl around it as you bend low, edge of your skirt brushing against the ground despite the tall heels that you wore. you roll your body upwards again, letting yourself grind against the pole, the hollering crowd distant as your gaze remains locked on him.

at the way his throat bobs as he watches your movements. the way he shifts in place as the room's temperature now feels a couple degrees higher. the way his eyes still meet yours so steadfastly.

you've definitely got his attention now.

you turn, back to the pole as you squat down again, letting your spine arch forwards as your chest meets the floor, hips remaining high. he watches you, hungrily, and you feel that electric stare of his in your core now. at this rate, you'd be leaving the pole wet.

you wouldn't mind letting him get lucky later.

and by the looks of it, he wouldn't hesitate to take you up on any offer you made him.

you're back on the pole now, just a simple pose as you do a spin first, before tucking your leg around the metal for stability and lifting off of the ground again.

more cheers from insignificant men, but what you pay attention to is how the man has pushed off from the wall now, stood up straight all while still watching you.

it gave you a little headrush seeing in real time the effect that you held over him, and you recognised the last chorus of the song, signalling that your time was almost up.

an idea pops into your head, one that deviates slightly from your regular routine.

you turn your back to the audience, glancing over your shoulder seductively as you slowly bend down, fingers trailing past the hem of your short skirt and finally hooking onto the garter you wear on your thigh.

there's cheers at your pseudo striptease, with the way you shimmy your hips more than necessary as you unclip it tantalisingly slow, letting the flimsy fabric slide down your leg until it pools on the floor.

you step out of it, another display of your ass as you bend down to pick it up, finally turning to face the audience with a grin as you twirl it around your finger.

there's men clamouring at your feet, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at their behaviour in favour of scanning the back of the crowd for him. he's there, still watching you with an imperceptible smirk at your little show.

you hoped he realised that it was just for him.

you recognised the closing notes of the song, deciding to make your exit with one final signal to the mystery man of what exactly your intentions were. you throw the garter, hoping there was enough weight to it to travel far enough to not land in the wrong hands, and that it would sail past heads before landing squarely in the man's palms.

you turn and leave before you see it happen, but when you throw back a last cursory glance, judging by his grinning face amidst a sea of disgruntled ones, you had hit your target.

you wink and blow him a kiss before disappearing offstage. your name was on the door, anyway. it wouldn't be too hard to find you.

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... fade into you

hsr men as your soulmate, and the marks you left on them in a past life

alternatively, you can find my hsr masterlist here! ୨ৎ

#୨୧ gia.txt :: blade #hsr blade x reader #blade x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr blade #hsr blade fluff #hsr blade smut #blade fluff #blade smut #blade x you #hsr blade x you #hsr fluff #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail fluff

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ofowlsdinosaursanddragons · 7 hours

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Giving Dungeon meshi characters Pokémon types because I’m bored. Part 1: Laios Party

Laios: Normal/Dragon type

Reasoning: I’d feel like normal type kind of fits him due to him being a generic knight archetype (despite being the most far removed personality wise). The dragon typing comes from Dragon being apex predators and Laios having an affinity with dragons.

Marcille: Psychic type

Reasoning: While fairy type would fit marcille due to her using magic and that being seen as something for fairy type Pokemon. But I’d feel that the mystic and ambiguous powers of Pysxhic types would fit her better. Also because of the Psychic type’s weakness to Bug, ghost, and dark types being based on fears and nasty creatures early in the series.

However she would become a psychic/dark type during the as the series would go on…

Especially when Marcille becomes the dungeon lord.

Chilchuck: normal type.

Reasoning: Ngl but there wasn’t much for chilchuck tbh and it would fit him the best. (If you have a better type for Chilchuck, feel free to ask me!).

Senshi: Fighting/steel type

Reasoning: Considering his experience with fighting (and eating) monsters and his cooking pot and Mithril knife, I’d feel like it would fit senshi quite well. And the flying-type weakness of fighting types plays in during the party’s encounter with the griffin.

Falin: Normal/Fairy type. (Fairy/Dragon as a chimera)

Reasoning: Falin’s fairy typing would make a clash with Laios’ dragon type and her being a cleric would also be more akin to the fairy typing as a whole. Her Fairy/Dragon type as a chimera is pretty obvious to see.

Izutsumi: Dark type

Reasoning: most dark types are either usually Carnivorans (the family where dogs, cats, bears, and seals belong to) and the type as a whole deals with trickery and sneakiness in battle. Something that Izutsumi fits well at due to her being a Catgirl with the Ninja/assassin archetype in fantasy.

#pokemon #dungeon meshi #What if they had types #titano rambles #chilchuck #laios touden #falin touden #marcille donato #izutsumi #senshi

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forevergoldgame · 1 day

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Forever Gold's demo will release on June 26th, 2024 on itch. It's been quite the development road to reach this point. We're excited to show you the first look of Vestur!

Forever Gold is a dark fantasy, text-heavy roleplaying game being developed in the Twine engine by Broncoburro and LSDolphin.

Take a looksie below. : ) (The game is free and playable in browser, on both desktop and mobile.)

(A disclaimer: Forever Gold is a game for mature audiences. It does not feature adult content, but the subject matter can get serious in a way not appropriate for all ages.)

“Even among the finest breeding, aberrations of nature can occur. A prized goat births a kid with two heads. A pedigreed cat bears a one-eyed kitten. An archduke begets a son with the haretouch."

You are Duke Quintrell Barghur: a cursed black meur wielder, misanthrope, and an all-around painfully awkward man. When a mysterious affiliation called the "Brothers of the Barehand" starts stirring up political unrest, you are summoned from your lowly job of mine inspector to join the Prince Convoy. With the rest of your companions, you must travel the Tri-Kingdom of Vestur, quelling unrest and managing the complexities of public and court life... all while navigating the pitfalls of being, well, you.

Halfway between visual novel and interactive fiction, Forever Gold is incorporates artwork and writing with role-playing game mechanics such as skill systems, dice rolls, and lasting narrative decisions.

In the demo, you've been summoned to Diadem Castle by Prince Oscar Andimeur for unknown reasons. The demo spans one major quest from the first chapter of the game.

Play in either human or wolven mode - a visual reskin depending on your personal preferences.

You've a variety of companions on the Convoy who can accompany you. They may aid in quests, help surpass skill checks, or...

...drive each other crazy and be of no help at all.

A lot of artwork is sprinkled throughout the game - every character has several portraits, and in addition, illustrations are sprinkled throughout.

There are several systems to help you navigate the world of Vestur - from a map system, to the party camp, to the inventory and the codex... we can't name them all as this post is long enough, but here's some screenshots!

...And I think that's a good enough introduction! Thank you for reading. This game is a labor of love by two hobby devs - we've spent many a weekend coding, writing, and drawing for Chapter 1. We hope you'll give the demo a play on the 26th!

You can follow the game's progress and see all our extracurricular artwork by following this blog or checking out the website. : ) Additionally, we welcome questions (and sometimes draw answers for them, too).

#reblogs absolutely appreciated!#interactive fiction #gamedev #rpg #historical fantasy #fantasy #twine #twine game #furry #anthro

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tinydefector · 1 day

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hi hi! Could I request a Yandere Starscream and Megatron (either from idw or prime) with a gn reader? Nsfw preferred as well as breeding kink pls! Probably dubcon cause it’s Yandere, anyways have a good day bye! ^-^

Missing in action

Megatron x human

Word count:1.1k

Warnings: non-con, Smut, Giant/tiny, blackmail tape, degrading.

I'll end up making one for starscream separately, but I only had it in me to write for Megatron tonight, so I hope you enjoy.

_____________

small hands cling onto Megatron as they stare up into his optics. Their smaller body spread out across the soft bedding. His name is on their lips as he slowly thrust into his little human.

Megatron's optics narrow with a mix of desire and satisfaction as he looks down at the human beneath him. With slow and deliberate movements, Megatron thrusts into their smaller body, relishing in the tightness and heat that surrounds him. Their moans and cries only serve to inflate his ego.

"Look at you," Megatron growls. "So small, so helpless beneath me."

"Mmm, my little plaything isn't that right," Megatron taunts, their bodies move in rhythm, the room fills with the sounds of both of them. “Not your anything!” They Whimper out as he grips their legs.

Moans fall from their lips as they clench around his spike. Megatron's optics narrow, amusement flickering within them, A smirk forms on his face, a dark gleam in his optics. "Oh, how spirited you are," he growls, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and dominance. "You think you can match wits with me, little one? I must admit, your defiance is... alluring."

"Enjoying it, are you?" Megatron taunts, his condescending tone brushing against their ear. "You relish being nothing more than a tight spike sleeve, a plaything for my pleasure. Do you enjoy being reminded of your place, beneath me, at my mercy?" He spouts off His little speech as he nips their shoulder.

He continues to guide their body to move in sync with his, Megatron relishes in the pleasure and power he has over them. Never before had he been interested in a human until then.

They gasp and whimper, moans falling from their lips as Megatron stretches them more than anyone ever had. He had ruined them for anyone else. His spike bulges their stomach as he grinds it deeper. "Bet no cybertronian would sleep with 'lord Megatron', it's the reason you enjoy humans so much you can't get it anywhere else" they hiss out at him, clench with each thrust as he grinds his spike deeper,

a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "You think you're the first to make such claims? You believe that no Cybertronian would dare lay with me? How amusing." His voice carries a playful and arrogant tone.

"You may be right," Megatron retorts. "No Cybertronian could match the tightness you provide, the way you cling to me, begging for more. You are a rare find, indeed. it's a shame the Autobots have kept you to themselves for so long"

Megatron's servos glide along the outline of his spike embedded deep within their stomach. Their moans reverberate through the air as their back arched in pleasure, An amused chuckle falls from him as a smirk curls on Megatron's face, his optics gleaming with satisfaction.

"Is that all you can handle?. You're so eager to challenge me, yet your body betrays you. It craves my touch, my spike stretching you to your limits."

"The way you moan, the way you writhe under me," Megatron continues, He punctuates his words with a deliberate grind of his spike,

Their eyes fall shut as they heave in breaths through each thrust, "Megatron!" They moan out,

“You moan my name so beautifully."

"I wonder how you would look, round with my sparkling, hmm?" he continues his thrusts, They clench even harder around his spike, a babble of moans, whimpers and slurred words leave them as their head presses into his plating. “No..No!” They gasp.

"Your body tells a different story. You may deny it now," Megatron continues, his voice low and seductive. "But deep down, Your body begs for it. Hmm what a sight it would be primes favourite little human round with my sparkling" They buck against Megatron, his name falling from their lips like a prayer as he ruts deeper into them. They arch against his bulk as pleasure takes them. Their body eagerly tries to milk him of transfluid.

"You like that, don't you?" Megatron taunts, his voice laced with a hint of sadistic pleasure. "Imagine, It would horrify your precious Optimus Prime, wouldn't it when he found out they are mine?"

He revels in the power dynamics at play, knowing that their intimate connection holds. They whimper out, clenching around him looking away. "Don't bring him into this '' they mumble breathlessly.

" afraid of what Prime would think? How quaint.” He continues to thrust into them, relishing in the power he helm over such a smaller being. "Tell me," he sneers, his voice filled with derision. "Do you think your Prime would approve of the way you writhe beneath me? I highly doubt it." A devious grin crosses his face as an idea takes shape in his processor. Sending a recording of their intimate encounter to Optimus Prime would be the ultimate taunt, a way to showcase just who owned them.

"Shall we give Prime a taste of what he's been missing? Let him see just how much of a little spike sleeve you are?” He relishes in the thought of the shock and horror it will bring to Optimus.

Horror crosses their face as he says that. "No,no,no!" they frantically yell, their voice filled with fear and disbelief. But Megatron pays no mind to their pleas, finding amusement in their distress.Megatron's optics narrow as he observes the horror crossing the smaller human's face. Their frantic protests only serve to fuel his sadistic amusement. He chuckles darkly, relishing in their vulnerability as he continues to pick up the pace, recording the message for Optimus Prime.

The sound of their distressed voice only adds to his satisfaction, as he captures their fear and desperation in the recording. It is a taunt, a way to showcase that Megatron owned them now.

"Do you hear that, Optimus? Do you hear how they cry out my name in ecstasy? This is what you're missing, what you can never provide." As they succumb to another orgasm, their moans echoing loudly over the recording,

Megatron smirks with a twisted satisfaction as he sends the recorded message to Optimus Prime, titled "Missing Something?". The subject line serves as a taunt, a cruel reminder to the Autobot leader of what he supposedly lacks and what Megatron has claimed as his own.

______________

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

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#transformers #transformers idw #transformers x human #transformers x reader #transformers lost light #mtmte #valveplug #transformers prime #mtmte megatron #megatron idw #megatron transformers #transformers megatron #megatron #megatron valveplug #transformers megatron x reader #megatron x human #megatron x reader

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arson-is-chill-actually · 3 days

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AvA and AvM characters and what I think their favorite video games are

TSC: Either Bendy and the Dark Revival or OneShot, but for the same reasons of great story and impeccable art.

Red: Sky: Children of the Light for both the social aspects and for the general aesthetic of it.

Yellow: Portal/Portal 2 because of the puzzles and ageless comedic writing.

Green: Hi-Fi Rush for the rhythm mechanics and generally really good music.

Blue: Subnautica. I’m not sure why, I just feel like it fits his vibe.

Purple: Tears of the Kingdom, he definitely played Breath of the Wild when it first came out and practically died of happiness playing TotK.

Orange: TLoZ Wind Waker, definitely played it when it first came out and is not ashamed to admit that he cried listening to the Colgera fight music while Purple was playing TotK.

TCO: Super Mario Galaxy, once again based purely on vibes.

TDL: Satisfactory, but for all the wrong reasons.

Victim: Sims 4, but only so he can create sims of Alan and kill them in increasingly violent and psychotic ways.

#Dark is the stick version of Lets Game it Out #animation vs animator #animation vs minecraft #headcanon

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cloudlessly-light · 2 days

Note

Hey bestie! I love your works! I was wondering maybe you could write a fic where Emily is cockwarming Aaron while he’s cleaning his gun and she cums very quick because it’s too sexy for her ☺️

A/N: I’ll give an extra warning for this chapter, it contains gun kink, you have been warned!

I would also like to add that I wrote most of this either on the way to or from @sequinsmile-x, as well as in her apartment.

Title: Love like mine (3/11) Chapter title: But don’t worry I’ll make sure you don’t forget it Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her. Word count: 3,7k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, cock warming, gun kink, dirty talk, cheating, hinting at abortion

They spend the day mostly naked, starting off with breakfast until Emily casually strips herself from his shirt and he ends up taking her on her dining room table. It’s hours spent together in between sex and jokes and conversation and Emily finds herself liking the way he’s relaxing in her company, the difference between Aaron and Hotch slowly sneaking through in a way he hadn’t let it before.

He’s funny, a dry sense of humor that she finds that she enjoys and she can tell that he likes the way she challenges him. It had been part of his attraction to her from the start, the fact that he can’t really figure her out.

“Where did you get this?” He asks as he traces the tattoo on her hipbone, faded and old on her skin.

“In Italy.” She doesn’t want to tell him the whole story, doesn’t want him to tell him that after one of the worst experiences of her life she wanted something beautiful to come from it. The daffodil tattoo that she at 15 thought was a good idea, the flower meaning change and new beginnings, something she now rarely paid much attention to. “It was a new start for me.” She tells him simply and he seems to understand that she doesn’t want to talk about it.

“It’s pretty.” He says instead and kisses her hipbone before moving slowly up her body, his tongue tasting her skin until he’s face to face with her. “Like you.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She smiles into a kiss and when she hears his sated groan she can’t help the way satisfaction tingles down her spine. She knew he wasn’t hers, she knew that part of why she was attracted to him was because he was taken. Him being married meant that she was safe. She wouldn’t get hurt this way, and that was comforting.

Aaron tries not to think about the repercussions of what they were doing, how this could end. He didn’t want to leave Haley, didn’t really know what he was doing spending his weekend with another woman. But as Emily moaned his name in his ear, he didn’t want to stop.

He gets home early on Sunday morning to an empty house and he tries to ignore the guilt that’s creeping up his spine. He had spent the entire weekend with Emily, his mistress, and the thought of Haley had barely crossed his mind. The clothes he wears smell like her and he quickly puts them in the washing machine, needing to hide every trace of Emily before Haley walks through their front door with his son.

It’s wrong, so wrong, this wasn’t the man he had imagined himself to be. But Emily was addictive, something he hadn’t known he needed but now didn’t know how to be without. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that he should come clean, that doing this to Haley was close to evil. But he loved his wife, loved the life they had built and he didn’t want to give that up.

He realizes that it can’t last, not in the long run but then dark eyes and a teasing smile flashes in his mind and for some reason he finds that he’s not ready to give her up.

Being with Emily was something new, something he’d never had before, pleasures and urges he had always forced deep down finally seeming to have room to breathe. She didn’t judge him for wanting what he did, in fact, she seemed to revel in it. Reveled in the way he let go like he hadn’t before, seemed to love the power it gave her.

He hears Haley call for him just as he’s getting out of the shower, only minutes after he had washed the sin off his skin.

“Hi honey.” She greets him with a soft kiss and a smile, gentle and loving and home and he kisses her back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He tells her, the lie sliding off his tongue almost too easily as he takes Jack from her, the toddler babbling happily in his arms. “How were your parents?”

“They’re good. Maybe next time you can come too.” Haley watches as he tickles Jack with a fond smile. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew something had changed between them in the last few months, knew that he was hiding something from her but as she stood there in the home where they had picked out the color of the wallpaper and argued about what couch to buy and listened to the sounds of their sons laugh, she forced those thoughts away.

“Is this a bad time?” She knocks on his office door and lingers in the doorway. It’s late, everyone’s gone home and she had every intention to do the same, but then he had given her that look, the look that meant he wanted her to stay late. So she had told a lie to Derek and JJ when they asked why she didn’t go home, blaming paperwork that she didn’t actually have but it seemed to be enough for them to leave the office.

It had been a strange day, a restlessness in her that she wasn’t sure where it came from. She needed something, but didn’t know what. Felt the need for something thrilling, for the restlessness to go away. She must have walked into his office right as he was about to clean his gun, the weapon disassembled on his desk and for some reason her eyes fastens on it.

“Not at all.” He said as he stood from behind his desk. He looked through the window and saw that the bullpen was empty and he closed the blinds swiftly. When he looked back at her he could see how her eyes lingered on his gun that he had just been about to clean, thinking that it would still be a while before she would have been able to join him. “Emily?”

Her eyes snap to his and she licked over her suddenly dry lips. She didn’t know why the thought of his gun suddenly made want stir in her belly, didn’t know why she suddenly thought about how his gun looked small in his large hands and the precision in which he used it. But she did know that the restlessness she felt made her feel something she never had before as she looked at the weapon in front of her.

“Yeah?” For some reason her voice comes out low and breathy, so familiar to him in the throes of passion that he feels a tugging in his groin.

“What are you thinking about?” He husks as he circles her slowly until he’s standing behind her, lets his lips trail teasingly along the back of her neck as his hands grip her hips to pull her back against his chest. The adrenaline that suddenly rushed through his veins was intense, because he knew this was new, something neither of them had done before.

“N-nothing.” She swallows hard but cranes her neck to give him easier access to her skin.

“Tsk, you shouldn’t lie.” He nips at her neck and she gasps in response. “You’re still looking at it.” The way her body tenses slightly as she looks back at him with wide eyes makes him hum knowingly.

She tore her eyes from the gun, felt his lips turn into a smirk against her neck and when her eyes meet his there’s something dark reflecting in his brown orbs, something feral and new, something that sends a thrill through her body. And she knew she was caught.

He lets go of her and goes to sit down at his desk, a small smile tugging on his lips that he bites the inside of his cheek to keep at bay.

“You like my gun?” He beckons her closer and she walks around the desk to stand at his side. “Answer me.”

“I don’t know why.” She mumbles, shy in a way she usually never was with him and the way her cheeks heat up makes him sit back in chair.

“I’ll tell you what.” He pushes back slowly from his desk, one hand hovering over his fly. “You can sit here and watch me clean my gun, and if you’re quiet, I’ll give you a reward.”

She looks at him questionably, not understanding where he’s going with this. Her eyes shift from his gun to his hand as he slowly reaches for her, his fingers expertly popping the button of her pants.

“What are you doing?” She barely recognizes her voice, so thick with want that it comes out low and raspy.

“I’m undressing you.” He tells her matter-of-factly before pulling her pants and underwear down her hips. When they’re a puddle around her feet he stands to help her out of her shirt, her bra soon following as she stands completely naked in front of him. He tugged on the piercing, a nipple ring that she’d started wearing only a few days ago. “You’re going to sit here and keep my cock comfortable while I clean my gun.”

The whimper that escapes her comes without warning, suddenly so aroused that it feels like her entire body was set on fire. He’s barely even touched her, and yet she knows her slick are shining on her thighs already, her skin flushing as he looks at her with dark eyes.

“Aaron-“ she starts but is quickly cut off as he presses a finger against her lips.

“Quiet, sweetheart.” The nickname falls from his lips without hesitation and if he wasn’t so ridiculously turned on himself he would have corrected himself. But instead he simply drags the zipper of his slacks down, gets his hard cock out and sits back down on his chair.

Emily waits only a second before she straddles his legs, her hand around his shaft as she lines him up with her center. She runs the tip of him through her folds, lets him feel her wetness before slowly sinking down on him with a strangled moan. His hands spread her thighs wider apart, as wide as possible as he holds her tight against his chest, his breathing coming out of hot, short puffs against the back of her shoulder. She slowly starts to grind but his hands tighten and he bites down on her neck.

“No no, sit still, just like this.” He smirks when she forces herself to still on his lap, knows that she more than anything wants to move, to create friction for them both. “Rub your clit for me”

His low voice in her ear caused her to shiver and she squeezed around him return. Her fingers trembled as she does as he says, using two fingers to gently circle the bundle of nerves as Aaron hummed, pleased with her obedience.

“Fuck…” she gasped as she clenched around him again and she heard his low groan against her ear.

“Now watch.” He let go of her hips only to reach for his gun. When he held it up Emily bit back a moan, eyes fastened on it. “Dirty girl, you probably want me to fuck you with my gun.” He cleaned the muzzle as he talked.

She didn’t respond, but her hips buckling slightly and her fingers speeding up against her clit was more than enough of an answer. The danger of his words made her head spin, images of what he was saying flashing in her mind.

“Mhmm, you want me to fuck you with my gun like I fuck you with my cock, hard and deep. You want to drench it, want to ruin it with the mess you’d make.” He continues conversationally as he continues to clean gunpowder out of the barrel.

”Aaron, Jesus Christ.” Her eyes rolled back as heat spread through her, slowly building her orgasm up. The heightened situation made the familiar heat she now associated with him spread quicker than ever before. All she wanted was to move, but she stayed still even as her thighs shook, afraid to break whatever spell he’d managed to put her under.

“You want to clench around the barrel of my gun just like you’re clenching me right now.” Aaron growled at the way her tight walls were trembling around him. He didn’t know what kind of primal desire had set off for her, all he knew that the brutality of it was making it hard for him to control himself. He licked over her fluttering pulse, tasted the vibration of her moan as she trembled hard enough for him to stop what he was doing to keep her on his lap.

“C-can I?” She panted through dizzying pleasure, her fingers moving in quicker and quicker circles against her clit.

“Good girl.” He praised her with a low groan. “Come for me.” He let go of the grip and put down the rag he had used and wrapped one arm around her middle to keep her still, let the other move to tug gently on her nipple ring and then she was coming, a loud cry that he knew would have been heard through the door leaving her as she rocked on his lap, unable to keep from buckling as pleasure spread through her body in powerful waves.

Once she had calmed and he was sure that she wouldn’t fall off his lap he let go of her only to pick his gun up again. He could see how her eyes, heavy lidded and dark followed his movements as he reassembled his gun, slowly, deliberately.

“Did I tell you to stop?” He asked then, his hand wrapping around her wrist to place it back against her clit. “Keep clenching around me baby, make me feel good.”

She whimpered, her clit sensitive to the touch but she did what he said, rubbing slowly over it as Aaron simply held the gun out in front of her again.

“My filthy girl.” He licked a stripe up her neck, her skin tasting of sweat and adrenaline. “You’re enjoying yourself almost too much.” His hand gripped the gun tighter, making sure her eyes stayed on it as he slowly trailed it down her body. The muzzle grazed one of her nipples, the cold steel making her gasp before slowly moving it down her body, letting her feel it gently press against her stomach.

“Aaron I don’t-” Her words were cut off by him nudging her hand away from her clit, only to graze the gun against it, the muzzle scraping it gently. It was cold and hard, the feeling new and she whimpered.

“You’re soaking me.” He let the metal slide over her clit slowly, up and down, up and down, until she was clenching around him again. The barrel was shiny with her slick as he kept moving it against her clit, glinting in the low lights in his office and he grunted against her ear.

“I’m close.” Her hands were gripping his desk, her body trembling as she tried desperately not to move. The sight of his hand, large and strong, holding the gun, something dangerous and risky between her legs was something she knew she’d never forget. It was maddening, the excitement she felt as he brought her closer to the edge. She knew he was getting closer too, his low groans against her ear deep and raspy, the hand not holding the gun gripping her hard enough to leave bruises.

Then he pressed the barrel of the gun a little harder against her clit and she was coming with a guttural whine, her head thrown back against his shoulder and body trembling as she spasmed around him. The feeling of her clenching walls around him was enough for him to come as well, his release hard enough to knock the air out of him as he jerked up against her.

She was still coming down when she heard the thump of the gun hitting the floor and then his hand on her jaw, pulling her face towards his to kiss her deeply. He tastes like Aaron and adrenaline, almost metallic.

“You really will be the death of me.” He whispers once they pulled apart and she smiles lazily, a low hum leaving her.

“Let’s hope not. This is too much fun.” She kisses him again, kisses him until the need for air becomes too much.

When she gets home that night she can still feel him, can smell his cologne on her body, feel his warm hands on her skin. She pretends that thinking about him isn’t something she should see as a warning, that pressing on the bruises on her hips was only to remember the way he had felt as he grabbed at her and not thinking about the way he’d kissed each one after they were done.

She pretends because he’s married. He was a father. He was something fun to pass the time, to use as a way to get frustrations out. Wasn’t he?

It’s been three weeks since that night in his office, three weeks of things seemingly falling into chaos. The cases they worked were grueling, somehow worse than ever it felt like. They didn’t get much time to rest, flying to and from DC in a way they usually didn’t. It made Aaron want to be home as much as possible, because he missed Jack, missed Haley. But he also missed Emily.

They never spend the night together while on cases, knew that it was too risky. But as the days passed on, he could feel the tension build, pressure slowly making him close to agitated. He was too mad at the world, the cases they worked, the victims he met somehow getting under his skin in a way they usually didn’t.

And then it’s like something snaps, a local case, an unsub telling him in detail about his victims, all of them children, all of them dead. And Aaron can’t handle it.

She can tell, can tell the second her eyes meet his and she is quick to find him alone.

“What can I do?” She asks and he looks relieved to see her standing in the doorway of his office.

“Can I come over tonight?”

She can tell everything he doesn’t say, sees the anger and the way he wants nothing more than to scream his frustrations out at the world.

“Of course.” When his shoulders lower the tiniest bit she smiles. “I’ll take care of you.”

He calls Haley on the way, lies about an emergency meeting as he knocks on the door to Emily’s apartment door. She opens it with a filthy smile and nothing else and the second he’s hung up she’s on him, clawing at his clothes and kissing him like her life depended on it.

He lets her take charge, lets him get him undressed and up the stairs without question and then she’s pushing him back on the bed, quickly following him as she straddles him. It’s not often he does this, but tonight he feels like he needs it and Emily being her, already knew that even without being told. He sits up to kiss her, hands on her naked waist but she pushes him back against the bed again, hands flat on his chest as she slowly grinds on top of him, a smirk on her lips when he hisses at the heat of her along his shaft.

“I know you like this, having a dirty little secret.” Her lips ghosts over his and when he tries to kiss her she pulls back. “I know you come to my apartment to get out all that tension you can’t with her.” She licks across one of his nipples and when she tugs it between her teeth his jaw clenches as he swallows down a groan. “You use me, but it’s okay because I use you too.”

She’s sinking down on him and rides him until he’s groaning and swearing, her body dragging pleasure from his. When he comes it’s with her name hissed from between clenched teeth, his body sweaty and heavy with pleasure as she lets him enjoy the release he really needed as he relaxes back against her bed.

After, he cleans himself off in her bathroom and when he comes back to the bedroom, he finds it empty. He dresses, buttons every button and ties his tie before combing his hair quickly. When he walks downstairs he looks like Hotch again and Emily smiles at the sight.

She’s standing in the kitchen, leaning back against the same kitchen counter that he’s fucked her on more times than he’d like to admit, looking so effortlessly gorgeous and he has a hard time looking away from her.

“What?” She asks, teeth digging into her bottom lip.

“Nothing, I’ll see you at the office.” His hand gently grasps the back of her neck and pulls her into a kiss.

“I never thought I’d do this.” She admits once he’s pulled away and he looks at her questionably. “Help a man cheat, I mean.”

“I never thought I would cheat, but here I am.” He stays close and she lets her arms wrap around his neck loosely. ”Do you want to stop?”

“No.” She says softly and for the first time Aaron finds himself wondering if maybe they’re getting in too deep.

“I don’t either.” He tells her honestly as he rests his forehead against hers for a brief second.

The moment is interrupted by his phone, loud and obnoxious to his ears and when he looks at the screen he sees Haley’s name flashing on it.

“Hi honey.” He steps away from Emily and she gives him a gentle nod. “No, I’m heading home now, sorry the meeting ran long.”

Emily watches him go, his hand squeezing hers quickly before he heads to the door. Once he’s closed it behind him she finds herself not liking the silence of her apartment. It’s the first time she had ever come close to regret

#hotchniss #hotchniss smut #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction

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pubbamoon · 2 days

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Hi, I'm a new follower after I read your post on the Venus signs and their music preferences. I'd like to hear your thoughts on people who have Pluto in the twelfth house. And, what would you recommend to people who have Pluto the twelfth house to try and combat their fears and the hidden parts of themselves?

Pluto in the 12th house

Hi bestie, thank you so much for following my Tumblr account. I really appreciate that. So, you want me to say something about having a Pluto in the 12th house and how can you deal with this placement? Without further delay, let's start!

The first thing I'm going to do is to describe the mentioned planet and house themself. Pluto is one of the three outer planets and it's the most distant astrological planet from the Sun in modern western astrology. It's the modern co-ruler of the Scorpio sign and the 8th house. It does represent death, rebirth, obsessions, extremes and where we experience intense ups and downs in our life. We either get everything from the Pluto or absolutely nothing, there's literally no between. It can also represent our dark side and the part of ourself that we hide or are ashamed of. Pluto changes signs every 15-30 years, so the placement of the Pluto sign doesn't have much significant influence on each person individually, since it's the generational planet, indeed. But when it comes to the houses, there comes the real power of Pluto.

The 12th house can mean several things. It is the last house in astrology and it's being ruled by Pisces and Jupiter (and it's co-ruled by Neptune in modern western astrology too). By saying that, the 12th house is associated with spirituality, religion and how we approach them. It also represents our conscious mind, daydreaming tendencies, how we sleep, isolation and everything that is hidden and it's not or can not be seen in a real world. This house is also about mental illnesses which can be hard to recognize and it's the opposite of the 6th house which is associated with physical illnesses which can be seen and are pretty obvious. It can also represent our karmic debts from our past life and why we are incarnated to this world again, if you actually believe in reincarnation and the similar kind of stuff. I heard from another astrologer from TikTok that this house is about prison too. It's a very complex house overall.

When the planet Pluto and the 12th house come together in someone's natal chart, this tells me that this is a person who is prone to the extremes when it comes to isolating from everyone else. These people may spend their own time alone for years and they wouldn't mind it. There could be some kind of generational trauma or karmic debt from previous lifetime that people need to break and it may not be easy with this natal placement. They could also have nightmares while sleeping or they simply have a terrible sleeping schedule. One day, they wake up too early and another day they wake up too late or something like that. Other people around them might be obsessed with them or people with Pluto in the 12th house in their natal chart might be obsessed with the people around them and no one would notice that. Stalking tendencies from you or from someone else can be relevant with this placement as well. I sense that these people used to be abandoned or lonely throughout their early life, which could be the reason why they isolate themself later in life or why they have a fear to introduce themself to the new people or experience. People having this placement in their natal chart might got some religious trauma from the childhood or change their religion drastically. On the positive note, since the 12th house is associated with spirituality, these people with the natal Pluto in the 12th house may experience many spiritual awakenings or constant changes in the way they think. Their intuition could be very strong and they can immediately feel whether some people are good for them or not.

For some of you guys who have the Pluto in the 12th house in your natal chart, I would highly recommend you to go to the therapy and talk with psychotherapist. I didn't graduate Psychology degree and I can't help you with mental illnesses and these kinds of stuff, but I think that telling people how you feel or journaling about your own feelings could help you a lot. If you can't afford therapy, then the intense shadow work may also be helpful for you. You need to acknowledge your darkest side, work on that and don't let demons from your heads manipulate you or make you do something that can hurt other people around you. I feel that you might have deep emotions which may be valuable and I think that you'll feel better if you free yourself for the expression of your emotions or from the fear of rejection.

I guess that would be everything about this observation. Thank you so much for following me and messaging me. For everyone else who follows me too, feel free to ask me about everything you would like to know about your natal chart's placement in my inbox. Keep it mind that it should be the only one particular placement from your natal chart. Thank you for your understanding in advance and wish you all a beautiful day.

Best regards,

Paky McGee

#astrology #tropical astrology #western astrology #modern astrology #pluto #12th house #astrology tumblr #astro community #astro observations #astro notes

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hugsandchaos · 3 days

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Okay, I know I said that Danny + dark crystal = Eldritch Danny reflex transformation, but this is separate from that. Let’s take a quick step back for a quick second, because I thought this was a good idea.

Danny accidentally touches Twilight’s dark crystal, or maybe he does it on purpose not realizing that’s the thing turning him into a wolf, and becomes a giant space bird. He could either be a raven, crow, or magpie, and here’s the explanation!

Raven or Crow: Ravens and crows are known as symbols of death or something like that, so that would be a reference to his status as a halfa. His dark wings would be perfect for glowing spots or swirls of colors like stars and distant galaxies on a clear night, and they wouldn’t really affect his hair color once he’s back to normal since the feathers are dark. Unless you want to add a few small random spots of white that eventually fade back to black.

This form would also have a ghost form, which looks pretty ethereal. The “living” form has dark feathers, eyes glowing like you took the moon, duplicated it, and put it in his eye sockets with a hint of blue, and several glowing white spots on the under-view of his wings. The ghost form has white feathers, eyes so dark that it looks as if light itself can’t escape it and somehow with a hint of green, and the white spots have turned black.

Magpie: I just noticed that when Danny had bird features in a lot of fan AUs, they’re usually magpie features, which I think is pretty cool! I mean, you can just switch the colors of the feathers when you go from “living” to “ghost”, and you get the best of white and black feathers in both forms! With this one, Danny could have a few stripes of pure white in his hair when he changes back, but his entire hair color doesn’t change like Legend’s did because his feathers were both black and white.

Both ideas could have a few of the same things. Here’s a list of them!

•White spots and streaks in the black feathers to resemble stars and comets, the patterns switching colors depending on which form Danny’s in.

•Under-view of the wings reflects the night sky, even during the day. Looks really odd in ghost form, though.

• ⬆️ Both ideas are for two reasons; To symbolize Danny’s obsession of space and blending in during night flights.

•While in his living form, Danny flies just like a bird. A giant bird, but still a bird, which is a bit of trial and error given how he used to fly. While in ghost form, his core does most of the work, but he can still use his wings to push himself even further.

•Living form eyes glow like the moon, ghost form eyes are dark like black holes.

•Eyes stay the same color? Blue in living, green in ghost.

•Danny is able to mimic sounds and voices just like a crow/raven/magpie. He has fun with it.

•Giant space bird form is 25 feet tall.

Scenarios with Corvid Danny!

•Twilight tries to calm Danny down, but after looking over himself and moving around a little, Danny actually gets excited and starts showing Twilight his new space wings. Danny will want to go back to normal sooner or later, but for now, he wants to stay in this form for a bit. Still, he knows the crystal belongs to Twilight, so he asks him if he can stay in the form for “a bit” to enjoy being a giant space corvid. Twilight was a little confused by Danny’s enthusiasm, but he agreed.

•Explaining it to the group. Twilight explains that the giant space bird is Danny, and when Sky offers to turn him back, Danny refuses and explains again that he wants to see what this form can do first. And then he shows off his space wings, because that’s his favorite part about the whole situation. He has no idea why his form is a giant space bird, but he’s not complaining! Twilight says that he’s letting Danny borrow the crystal for a bit, but there’s obviously going to be a few rules.

•Danny’s not allowed to go near civilization, he’s to avoid travelers, no flying too far, no fighting until he gets used to this form to avoid mishaps, and no jumping off cliffs to practice flying! Get down from there, space nerd!

•Danny carries them and lets them mess with his feathers as long as they don’t pull. I think Sky is most likely to ride on Danny’s back for fun and anyone can climb up onto his head to get a vantage point of the area, but who’s the first to actually ask? Danny suggested it, actually! He wanted the others to see the view he did and lowered his head, then told them to climb on. Then his lifted his head back up, slowly so he wouldn’t drop them, and let them watch the view with him.

•It’s snowing. The group can’t find shelter to get the fire started and they’re tired. Corvid Danny uses his wings to make a tent for them! His wings are really big to support his weight and size, so it worked! Oh, and don’t worry! The temperature wasn’t actually bad for Danny. 1; He has feathers. 2; He’s used to these temperatures and lower. 3; His ghost half.

•Danny practicing flying whenever he gets the chance. He picks up on it pretty quickly! Half of it is from closely watching normal ravens/crows/magpies flying and copying them, and the other half is trial and error.

•Normal corvids flock to Space Corvid Danny and talk to him. They think the strange, giant bird with wings like the night sky needs investigation, and they ultimately decide that he’s friend material!

•Space Corvid Danny copying all sorts of sounds and even the group’s voices. He thinks it’s really funny, and he’s right! The group asks him to copy certain things, sometimes to make fun of each other, and it’s great.

•Space Corvid Danny VS Big Flying Monster!!!

•Space Corvid Danny talking with Twilight about how much he loves learning to see the world in this new perspective.

•The Links spotting or even making constellations in his wings. He gets really hyped up about it, and if they’re making up new constellations, they’re now obligated to make up stories based off it with him!

•The others got “animal habits” or something from their forms, and so does Danny! What are these habits? Let’s brainstorm! Definitely developing a fondness for shiny things, but his space obsession urges him to organize it into a constellation or some other space related art project… That’s all I can think of. 🙁

•Space Corvid Danny going ghost would be pretty interesting! The night sky patterns being inverted would be quite the otherworldly sight!

•He 100% gets Wild to take a few pictures with his phone.

•Danny either going to Twilight and Sky and says he’s had his fun and is ready to turn back, or he’s asked for it back and he agrees. Then he hugs Twilight and thanks him for letting him have such a fun opportunity. Twilight thought it was interesting that Danny didn’t freak out and immediately search for a way to change back, but rather want to explore this new perspective.

•As I’ve said, if it’s a magpie, Danny could have a few stripes of pure white in his hair when he changes back, but his entire hair color doesn’t change like Legend’s did because his feathers were both black and white.

•He might get the chance to be Space Corvid Danny again someday. Who knows?

Little bonus bit!

•Sam and Tucker think that Danny’s Space Corvid form is pretty neat and ask if he can still become a ghost, and he happily shows off! They climb on him, go for a flight, mess around with mimicking sounds, and overall have a great time together. Some of the Links think it’s sweet.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #linked universe #linked universe sky #linked universe legend #linked universe twilight #linked universe time #linked universe x danny phantom #linked universe wind #linked universe wild #linked universe four #linked universe warriors #Danny phantom x linked universe #space Corvid Danny

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kingkatsuki · 1 day

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So I was thinking about Kaji heavier kinks. Imagine asking him to slap you, like your cheek or even your cunt but he already has difficulty not slapping your ass as hard as he wants to and now you're asking him to strike your pretty face or your pretty clit.

Those are things he kisses tenderly, how could he ever? Yet still the loving man he is he tries.

One tentative soft slap to your cunt and when you clench and moan out harder you're not realizes you're making a monster

I’ve never written a thirst post so fast in my life I’m actually embarrassed. Also I don’t know if I could ever write Kaji with cunt slaps because I fear I might not survive— that’s an unbelievably hot thought I will store in my head for later😫

Warnings: 18+, spanking, slapping. Probably shouldn’t ask this question during sex either, but I was struck by the horny so help me god smite me if you have a problem goodbye xxx

“Slap me.” You moaned as Kaji pistoned into you with ferocity, his thrusts had you pushed up against his headboard as your thighs quivered around his waist. Tits bouncing with each sharp rut of his hips as he didn’t miss a beat, his warm palm reached out to strike the side of your thigh roughly. Catching the curve of your ass as you moaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure on contact.

“No, not there—” You gasp as he moves onto his forearms on either side of your face, tilting his head to the side to meet your gaze as he gives you a dark look.

“Then where, pretty girl—“ He brushed his lips against yours, “Tell me—“

“My face,” You gasped as his cock dragged against the spongy spot inside you, “I want you to slap me in the face.”

“No.” Kaji pulled back abruptly, resuming his previous position in front of you as he sat upright on his knees. He would’ve pulled out of you completely if it wasn’t for your thighs keeping him locked in place.

“But you spank me all the time—“ You could already feel the shame and embarrassment flowing through you at the thought that he was kink shaming you, wishing you’d waited to talk to him about this beforehand and not gotten so caught up in the heat of the moment.

“That’s different.” Kaji balked.

“How is it different?” You murmured, reaching out to smooth a palm along his chest.

“It—“ Kaji paused as he pondered his reasoning, his mind instantly filled with how pretty you looked spread out for him as he spanks your ass. Watching it jiggle on impact as the skin prickles beneath his palm, your soft skin darkening and welting as you beg him to do it again, that you can take it, “It just is! I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But I’m asking you to,” You soothed, “I like when you hurt me during sex.”

“Yeah, but what if I really fuckin’ hurt ya,” He pressed, “What if I knock you out?”

“I trust you, Ren.” You replied simply, reaching out to thread your fingers together to squeeze his hand reassuringly, “I wouldn’t even ask you if I didn’t.”

You may trust him, but Kaji sure as hell didn’t trust himself— the pretty sounds you made whenever he spanked you were enough to awaken the voracious depravity he tried his best to keep caged. It had been one too many times he’d spanked your ass a little too hard that he found himself rubbing cream into welts after a season, or watching with worry as you’d wince before sitting down.

Kaji had worked hard over the years to control his emotions, but you were the reason for his loss of control— for the beast he’d become whenever you lay beneath him, ready to devour you whole.

“I’d never force you to do anything, Ren,” You smiled softly, stroking his hand with your thumb, “So if you don’t want to it’s okay.”

“You better tell me if you don’t fuckin’ like it, yeah?” Kaji grumbles, stroking a clammy palm along your thigh.

“Of course, I’d always tell you.”

“I mean it, use the safe word— shove me off—” He presses, sincerity in his steely gaze as his heartbeat speeds up, “Call me a fucking asshole—”

You take the hand that’s linked with yours as you move it up your body towards your face, pressing his palm against your cheek softly as you look up at him with complete love and adoration.

“I trust you.”

Kaji swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to remember to breathe. Drawing his palm back to make sure he doesn’t use the full force he knows he’s capable of, fingers clasped together so he doesn’t do more damage than necessary as he tentively leans forward to slap your cheek with purpose.

The hit has your face twisting to the side on impact, and Kaji’s instantly prepared to blurt out an apology when he thinks he’s hurt you. His skin prickles from where his palm made contact with your cheek, as he sees the faintest mark against your perfect skin. But the debauched, desperate whine that leaves your lips is damn near sinful as he feels your cunt clench down around his cock hard.

Kaji moans at the sensation, his blue eyes rolling back as he has to splay a hand out beside your head to stop himself from falling on top of you from how tight you just became. His heavy balls threaten to spill their load prematurely as he tries to focus.

“Fuck.” He exhales, nostrils flaring as he basks in the sight of you. The throb of your cunt around his cock almost enough to throw him over the edge as he pauses for your reaction.

“Again.” You breathe, looking up at him with pleading eyes, “Please, Ren. One more time?”

Maybe you haven’t created a monster, perhaps he has.

#thirst posts #jo thirsts #Kaji thirst #Kaji ren smut

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monstersdownthepath · 2 days

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Herald of Gorum: The First Blade

CR 15

Chaotic Neutral Large Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 288

Whoof. This poor guy is going to have a rough time of it in a few years, won't he? And unfortunately, it has a direct, tangible connection to Gorum, being a chip of sword knocked free by one of the Lord in Iron's clashes with a great god-beast and given life by the energy of the battle. At the time of writing (6/1/2024) we have little idea of what will happen to Gorum's divine servants come the Godsrain, so the looming future of the First Blade is a dark and swirling cloud for it as well as for us.

So we're going to ignore it! And focus on the Now, much like we did for the Hand.

The First Blade is, perhaps, as straightforward as Heralds get. Gorum is a god of war who dislikes diplomacy and underhanded tactics, and as such the First Blade is a warrior with zero ranks in any skill which doesn't directly benefit its ability to initiate or maintain a combat and zero utility or ability to do anything but fight, fight, fight, and make sure everyone else fights, fights, fights as well. Unlike most Heralds whom often have multiple duties, the purpose of the First Blade is exclusively battle, and the book outright states "no accounts exist of the First Blade responding to a summons for a task other than combat;" whether or not it would be willing to train warriors is left unsaid, but it's fully willing to join in whatever fight presents itself... just be wary that disappointing it may see it killing (or at least terrifically maiming) everyone on every side out of disgust or even boredom.

Fittingly enough for one of the most combat-oriented Heralds in existence, getting into a one-on-one with the First Blade typically only ends in one way: a messy, painful death. Let's see how!

First thing's first: That weapon in the art? That's decorative at best, and an insult at worst. The First Blade is the Lord of Battle, proficient with ALL weapons and capable of instantly summoning any mundane weapon made of any material it desires in a single standard action to overcome whatever DR it encounters... but every weapon it could potentially summon is actually weaker than its Bladed Slams which, damage-wise, are usually more than enough to deal with whatever foe has presented itself.

Indeed, if the Blade is wielding an actual weapon against you, it's either because it believes you don't deserve to die by its hand, or because it's testing your mettle. It may even be showing you mercy by using a weapon, for whatever reason Gorum may have decreed. There IS a third option, in which it has determined that using a weapon with a property its slams don't have (such as Reach, Trip, Disarm, or being made of a specific material), or if it would, for the fun of it, like to make four weaker and less accurate attacks rather than two powerful and accurate ones. For the most part, the Blade will be using its two slams to devastate anything that enters its threat radius (10ft space + 10ft reach) with 2d10+16 damage while also tacking on 1d10 bleed. It's also to Great Cleave to slice through an entire squadron of foes at once, lacerating them all at once with its bladed arms so it doesn't lose as much DPS when it focuses a single enemy down.

The Blade's slams also count as magical, chaotic, adamantine weapons for the purposes of piercing DR and hardness, meaning there are few impediments the Blade cannot cleave through just by hitting it enough times. Even the iron and steel its god loves so much are shorn like paper by the Blade's hands, though this Herald DOES have some meaningful connection to iron; it's got Ironsense, letting it detect any iron coming within 60ft of it, which helps it negate ambushes and the sneak attacks of any foes it may face. And speaking of Sneak Attacks, as a hater of all forms of underhanded tactics, the First Blade is immune to poison and has 75% Fortification, meaning critical hits and Sneak Attacks have a 3 in 4 chance of simply not affecting it.

You know what else doesn't affect it? Most magic. See, the First Blade has the same Immunity to Magic as an Iron Automata, meaning that a good 80% of the spells in the game simply cannot affect it in a meaningful way! Electricity damage will slow it, but the far more common Fire damage will heal it, and most attempts to debuff it directly will just not work, assuring a good, clean battle between it and its enemies without magic getting in the wa--

oh you've made a wall surrounding it. Fair enough. It'll just do that right back, having Wall of Iron available to it 3/day to trap its foes in an arena with it (it's got Blade Barrier 1/day for a similar reason!). I say "without magic getting in the way," but the First Blade has a unique array of spell-likes which I have a difficult time envisioning the uses of. Well, I mean, I know how I'd use Chill Metal and Heat Metal (which it can do 3/day each), but it's hard knowing why the First Blade would ever bother using them... except, perhaps, to "gently" discourage unworthy foes of taking up arms against it, to scare off warriors who could not possibly survive an upcoming battle, or... well, as part of one of its crusades to slaughter an entire battlefield which disappointed it.

I'd imagine it uses its 3/day Repel Metal or Stone for a similar reason. Some creatures simply aren't worth battling, and dismissing someone so hard that them and all their compatriots are blasted 60ft backwards is a hell of a way to make that statement. RMoS also gives the First Blade an emergency disengage button on the chance someone manages to pierce its DR 15/Adamantine and Lawful and outpace its Regeneration 5 (suppressed by adamantine weapons only; magical substitutions will not work) enough to finally put it on the back foot.

While Gorum expects his worshipers and even his Herald to battle to the bitter end, he isn't so bloodthirsty that he expects them to die in a fight they would have a chance of winning were they better prepared (unlike his rival Szuriel), so a tactical retreat can be fully justified even by the vicious Herald. RMoS is an extremely powerful tool in that regard, as there is no way to resist the effects aside from dropping all the metal on your body. Amusingly, given that it's almost wholly metal, the First Blade can aim RMoS at itself to blast itself 60ft backwards to relative safety. This is, perhaps fittingly, the only true escape tool the Herald has if it must retreat.

It has no fly speed and no teleportation magic, relying solely on a 30ft movespeed to get it where it needs to go; a humble Create Pit spell takes the Herald out of the fight for several rounds until it clambers back up. Even its Swarm Form, which turns it into four squares of whirling death (4d6 damage at a time) can't fly! It's got no immunity to paralysis, stunning, or sleep, meaning nonmagical means of inflicting those status ailments have a chance of working... provided they can contend with the Blade's +20 Fort save or +12 Reflex save. Its meager +8 Will save seems like a weakness one could easily pounce on, but most effects which could take advantage of it are blocked by its Immunity to Magic, rendering that point moot. Even still, indirect ways of attacking it or containing it which don't rely on it making saving throws still work like a charm.

It can even make its enemies stronger, as it projects a 100ft aura of Rage that gives any creature which willingly accepts the effect--ally OR enemy--the spell's benefits and downsides! It cannot turn this aura off. When the First Blade joins a battle, oftentimes the only way it's walking away is by killing or demoralizing the enemy to the point they can no longer fight; it simply has few other ways to retreat from a battle it, for whatever reason, cannot or does not want to win. It's quite fitting that the First Blade is basically incapable of retreat on its own, but this relies on you being capable of putting it in enough danger that it feels the need to... and, quite simply, there are very few level-appropriate parties that can do that before it's got half of them facedown on the floor and the other half imprisoned in Walls of Iron, waiting their turn.

At the very least, dropping your weapons and surrendering will often get you mercy; Gorum grants mercy to those wise enough to realize when they're outclassed. Just don't even think about picking your weapons back up until the First Blade has fully departed, because going against the sacred rules of war by attacking it after you've surrendered is a sure way to earn its eternal ire against your companions and a swift, messy decapitation for you, personally.

You can read more about it here.

#monster spotlight #CR 11 to 15 #Misfits and Monitors Month #Pathfinder #dungeons and dragons

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