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hopeswriting · 6 months

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was thinking about takeshi and how he's my favorite brand of unconditional devotion btw. the utter and absolute and all-consuming kind that runs so deep to the very core and is so intrinsic and fundamental to it, it can only express itself in the most casual and natural and certain way. without second thoughts, without any room for doubts or for any moral dilemma to be had over it, because of course he ought to always be breathing and living for his chosen person first and foremost. of course he ought to hang on their every word and make them true no matter what, no matter what he has to do to make it happen, no matter what he has to do to other people to make it happen, and no matter what it might turn him into in the process. because it's obviously the way the world should be for his chosen person. at their feet, ready to bend over backwards and break and build itself again to better answer to all their needs even if they don't ask it for it. it's the only right way it should be for them, and of course takeshi's going to do his utmost at all times to make it a reality as much as possible.

and his devotion comes out as naturally as breathing, comes out lighthearted and nonchalant like he might as well be talking about the weather, but it's not unaware of itself. it's not that takeshi doesn't know it's unhealthy and wrong and that he's willing to go entirely too far in its name for anyone's good. it's not that he wouldn't hear you out if you were to sit him down and explain to him just why he needs to tone it down a little (a lot). logically, he'd agree with you and know you're right. and then he'd tell you he's still not going to do anything whatsoever about it. that he's not bothered by it and doesn't feel the need to change anything to his attitude. makes it a point to never let anyone or anything sway him even an inch in the stand he took when it comes to that, no matter how many thousand of times you might go over the subject with him.

because the morality of his devotion isn't the point at all. is entirely irrelevant to it and doesn't affect the way he expresses it all. it's not the metric with which he draws a line in the sand to hold it accountable to. because the thing is, takeshi's entire world revolves around tsuna--tsuna is his entire world altogether, and it's just a matter of fact, that simple. to him it's a truth as unchanging as the sky being blue, and so being the way he is according to that truth is the only way he can imagine being that'd feel right to him. and so the actual and only metric that matters here is "would tsuna be happier if i were to do this?" and/or "is this something tsuna needs me to do?"

and like. i don't think takeshi ever stops being a kind person capable of compassion and understanding and mercy and forgiveness even ten years later once they became mafia through and through. and i don't think either he grows up to be feared and called a monster per se despite the things they inevitably had to do during those ten years (and the things they'll inevitably keep having to do as long as they keep being mafia), at least not in the way, for example, they'll never stop fearing and calling mukuro one. but i do think that among the tenth gen, he ends up being the one with the most ruthless, merciless and horrific blood on his hands of that particular and distinct loving kind. you know the one i mean, right? he comes to be the one most expected and the one first expected to be willing and to take it upon himself to go through with it when the need arises. and to think little of it after, if anything at all. all in the name of making tsuna's reign as easy on him as possible.

and it's to the point where it's the kind of blood that makes even mukuro pause at times. or, when takeshi is the one coming up with solutions himself during meetings, makes even reborn blink. not because it's unjustified or wouldn't be safe or efficient or anything of the sort, but because it is unwarrantedly thorough in its retaliation. and sometimes, at times like this, he's the one tsuna needs to step in for the most, because he's the only one who can reason with him that "yes, this would work in getting rid of our problem" but "no, please, don't do that takeshi". because if tsuna is the only thing that infers on just how much and in what ways he'll let himself be devoted to him, then of course, he's also the only one takeshi's willing to reign himself in for without second thoughts. because he'd hate to ever do something tsuna would disapprove of or wouldn't want him to do. or do something that'd make tsuna see him differently or love him back less even in the slightest.

and it's also like. his devotion isn't an undisciplined one. it's not one he doesn't have control over, the very opposite. it's a very purposeful and conscious choice he chooses to keep making over and over again every step of the way, and he taught himself to have control over it, to know when it's needed and/or wanted, and how much and in which ways it is when it happens, and to keep it down otherwise. and, yes, to also reign it back in at tsuna's request at times when it still slips past his control. because it's all about making tsuna's happiness easier and secure and long-lasting, and never about burdening him with just how committed he is to do that.

so it comes down to this: takeshi willing to go above and beyond and more for tsuna unless tsuna explicitly asks him not to. and to tsuna needing to ask him not to every now and then. and to other people pointing out to him how too many times tsuna's already needed to stop him, and that maybe there's a hint for him to take there. and to takeshi seeing the hint, looking it straight in the eye and recognizing it for what it is and just. deciding it doesn't apply to him because it's all perfectly normal behavior to him. because it's the only kind of behavior that makes sense to him and feels right.

and so—to circle back to my first point—he can only express his devotion as naturally as breathing, so casually, almost like it's something inconsequential and not worth talking about despite how unmistakably it couldn't be further away from being the truth. it's the only way he could have always known how to express it, because, after all, who has ever taken time to ponder about the details and the hows of the way they breathe?

and i, for one, absolutely eat that shit up every time, thanks for coming to my ted talk <3

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr meta #can i even call this one?? well i'm going to anyway lol #yamamoto takeshi #sawada tsunayoshi #i've never been normal about devotion in stories and characters and won't ever be so sorry if this doesn't make sense #also this is not to say the 10th gen loves tsuna any less unconditionally this isn't a competition #it's just me saying the particularities and specificities of the way takeshi specifically does it appeal to me the most #which is one of the reasons why i have such a big soft spot for 8027 #and it's not a problem in their relationship either btw that's also not what i'm saying #like tsuna doesn't mind it and absolutely /does/ reciprocate it 100%#he's just careful to keep an eye out so none of them will lose themselves along the way #also this is within the context of me shifting canon slightly to the left in the way where the 10th gen loves tsuna /so much/#they could just as well actually and properly worship him as a god and it still wouldn't make a single difference #and me liking to lean into that fully and taking it to extremes and it inevitably becoming some extent of dark #because considering the environment canon makes them express it (the mafia) it's like. well how else are they meant to keep it alive #and make sure it survives through it without giving it sharp teeth and claws and jagged edges of its own you know?#so if you feel like this is some kind of ooc-ness you're not wrong #but also consider: i'm not wrong either <3 #anyway consider also: unconditional devotion running /so/ deep down to your marrow and to your very essence #even in the face of the whole world telling you how wrong it is and how insane and unhinged you are for it and condemning you for it #it still wouldn't so much as make you consider the thought they might have a point #and i genuinely EAT that shit up every time i love to see it <3

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bradshawsbitch · 1 year

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mess w/ roommate!bradley 😵‍💫😵‍💫 for blurbs:)

oof, okay we're starting off on a roommate spree here folks! i love it so much. I tweaked it a little bit because I'm just such a slut sap for first times 🥹

[ MESS ] our muses are supposed to be cleaning up in the shower after sex, but sender starts to finger receiver.

warnings; female reader, afab!reader, roommates to lovers, smut 18+, fingering, masturbation, tit worship, thigh grinding, pet names

word count; 2.4K (did you say blurb?! god damn it I have a problem)

tagging some people; @roosterforme @mak-32 @lt-bradshaw @roleycoleyreccenter

"Bradley." you tried to keep your voice stern, shoulders squared, and eyes blazing with the power of every woman who had ever cleaned in her entire life. "We need to have a conversation."

"Alright, what's up, tiny?" Bradley looked up from the paper he was reading, the nickname he'd given you did nothing to alleviate the frustration you felt with your roommate. You weren't tiny, you were actually on the taller spectrum of it all, according to you. But not to chicken man.

"Have you--" you had to cut yourself off, taking a deep breath to make sure you didn't accidentally hurt any feelings here. "Has anyone ever taught you how to properly clean a bathroom? Because I distinctly remember that we said yesterday that I would take the kitchen, and you would take the bathroom." Bradley had skirted that particular chore one too many times.

"I don't follow," Bradley furrowed his brows and put his paper down beside him.

"There's still your tiny facial hair remnants in the sink! And don't get me started on the shower! Did you even scrub the shower walls?" Bradley blinked at you. There truly was nothing behind those big brown eyes, huh? Just sawdust and jet fuel.

"Tell me who to contact to file a complaint about your lack of cleaning knowledge." you put your hand on one hip, unfortunately taking the well known stance of a woman scorned.

Bradley licked his lips before looking down at his lap. You thought you knew what might come next. As he looked up, there was a perfect iteration of a hurt expression on his face, those same brown eyes now misty and puppy-like.

"My mom--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake Bradshaw, you already pulled that card this week. Ain't no excuses for being in your mid thirties and not knowing how to clean your own damn bathroom!" try to get out of that one huh, feminist king. See how you'll chicken your way out of that.

You figured Bradley might take offense, or at least start arguing with you. He'd been well known for his short fuse. To your great surprise, those big eyes that had just been misty widened initially in shock at your brusque statement, before his head tipped back and a roaring laughter eased from his throat.

"Oh god, tiny - you're just perfect, aren't you? You're right. I should know better," he now moved to stand, mirth playing in his eyes as he took a few steps forward until he - to your great annoyance - towered over you.

"I know this is not supposed to be your job then," he murmured softly, using his hand to make your stubborn gaze meet his "but would you be so kind as to show me your preference in making our bathroom squeaky clean then, doll?" he was smirking now.

God damn naval aviator knew he was hot. It irked you that you could not say that he didn't affect you. His little pet names, his stupid broad shoulders, his ridiculous sun kissed skin, the way he always smelled so good the way he--

"C'mon tiny, we got a tight schedule now!" Bradley called you out of your dazed state, and you huffed as you followed him towards your spacious shared bathroom.

"Alright, sweets, talk to me." He talked as if you were his god damn backseater, trying to blow up the enemy toilet. "What's the first step?"

Rolling your eyes, you started to peel off your socks and shorts. "Tiny!" Bradley's eyes went wide before he averted his gaze promptly.

"Oh, c'mon, Bradshaw, don't tell me you're in your mid thirties and have yet to see a woman in underwear," you smirked "I'm gonna walk you through a deep cleaning. Don't want to ruin my clothes. Tends to get a little wet,"

If Rooster's lips wobbled at your use of the word 'wet', you chose to ignore his childish quirk.

"But if you want to ruin your Grateful Dead shirt by getting cleaning shit on it, fine by me," you shrugged before ridding yourself of your top, leaving you in a matching black panty and bra set. They were plain, nothing sexy about them at all.

Swiftly pulling out the cleaning supplies, you started ordering your roommate around the bathroom as the two of you started to hose down the room. You hadn't made it far in your mission to scrub the sink before you felt a spray of water against your back.

Turning around, you were met by a mischievous looking Bradley, the shower head pointed straight at you. If looks could kill, you're sure Bradley would have a paper cut by now. Maybe a bruise.

"Rooster!" you tried sounding stern, but it came out more as a tired whine. "Hey, I'm sorry, Tiny - c'mere!" Bradley must've sensed you were starting to get fed up, because he opened his arms to you. Stupid naked, muscly chest looking inviting and warm as hell. You stepped into the shower, wrapping your arms around Bradley's waist as he maneouvered the shower head back into it's position on the wall.

It seemed like neither of you cared that the warm water was now washing over the both of you, your underwear becoming soaked. You'd always wondered what it would be like to shower with your roommate, but you never envisioned this scenario. In your scenario there were even less clothing, and much more moaning.

It wasn't always easy, breezy (but definitely beautiful) living with Bradley - in spite of the fact that he lacked competence in bathroom cleaning, he made up for it in every other aspect of householding and in his caring nature.

"This feels good, Tiny," Bradley murmured against the top of your head as he held you. "Told you it'd get wet," you mumbled against his skin, your lips currently smushed against his sternum. You could feel his chest rumbling as he chuckled, his large hands leaving their safe spot in your embrace. They started gently caressing your sides, before one hand again found it's place on your chin - tilting your head softly upwards.

Looking into Rooster's brown eyes, there was no twinkle of mischief left, nor confusion or mistyness - you weren't quite sure what this look was. As his other palm cradled your jaw and a portion of your neck, it dawned on you. Before you could name the emotion, Bradley's lips were upon yours in a wet kiss.

His lips moved slowly against yours, as if he was giving you the option to either engage or leave. A soft noise left your throat as you pushed up on your toes, wanting to feel more of him. The grip he had had on your chin eased, that hand moving to grip at your hip to keep your body steadily pressed against his.

"Wanted to feel you like this for fuckin' ever, Tiny," Bradley groaned as you took a gasping breath, his lips kissing down your throat. "Bradley--" you whined, eyes fluttering shut as his skilled hand rubbed at your ribs, slowly inching up towards the underside of your breasts.

"Is this okay, doll?" he breathed against your ear, his mustache tickling slightly against your earlobe.

"So okay, Rooster - oh god," you moaned softly as his thumb graced the swell of your breast, applying just enough pressure to send anticipatory waves of pleasure rolling through you.

"Please, I-- more," you whimpered, your hands tangling into Rooster's damp locks, tugging slightly - eliciting a rough groan from him. "More of what, doll? Tell me," his voice was husky against your throat as he switched sides, tongue soothing where his teeth nipped and his lips latched on to suck marks onto your soft skin.

"You-- Please!" his hand was still teasing the underside of your breasts, and you were squirming against his warm body, trying to make him fucking grab them already. You needed his hands on you.

"Words, sweetheart," he sounded pleased, a smile forming against your skin. Yanking his hair a little harsher, you licked your lips as the water cascaded down Rooster's well muscled upper body.

"I need your hands on my fucking tits, Bradley," you commanded, a certain bite to your tone that had a moan rolling off of Bradley's parted lips. Your words seemed to have triggered something in your roommate, because he promptly pressed you against the cool tiles of the shower wall. Not before his one hand had swiftly undone the clasp of your bra, flinging the wet garment to the floor.

"Such lovely fucking tits," Bradley groaned, eyes transfixed on your naked breasts as his large hands covered them, his fingers squeezing and kneading in unison. Letting your head fall back against the wall, you let out a long, relieved moan at the stimulation. Bradley whispered out a breathless 'Fuck' as his thumbs rolled over your nipples, taking in how well the soft flesh looked squeezed in his hands.

"Fuckin' dreamt of these tits for so fucking long," Bradley confessed, leaning down to let his warm tongue circle over the now pert nipples. "Wanted to hold them, lick them, suck them-" at the last word he let his lips enclose around your nipple to suck, making you cry out - the sound echoing over the sound of rushing water.

"Fuck them," Bradley growled as he put more pressure into his kneading movements. At this he looked into your eyes, pressing his body up against yours, his thigh slotted between your slightly parted legs.

"Bradley," you whimpered, not in a state of mind to say much else, and the fire it ignited within those brown eyes had you whining in pleasure again, his thigh pressing against your clothed core. "Wanted to make you mine for so fucking long," Rooster continued, letting his lips meet yours for a hard kiss.

"God, make me yours, Rooster," you whined, grinding down against his large thigh, needing the heat he'd started in you satiated.

"Fuck, Tiny!" he rutted his pelvis against your own thigh, and you could feel how hard he was against you.

"C'mon baby, tell me what you need," your roommate murmured before he once again leaned down to lick and suck at your breasts, relishing in finally getting to drown in their supple flesh.

Who knew Bradley was a tits man?

"Need your hands," they were everywhere and nowhere all at once, you needed them to bring you more pleasure.

"Need my hands, hm? D'you need them here, sweets - is that it?" his left palm had left it's perch on your breast, reaching between your bodies to cup against your soaked pussy. A soft mewl left your parted lips as you nodded fervently.

"Yes! Please, Bradley," you were practically begging for him now, but you found you didn't care.

"Sweet girl... fuck - I'll take care of you," Bradley's voice sounded a little wrecked as his fingers slid underneath the soaked cotton of your panties, his fingers rubbing against your core. Lifting your leg, you held it against Bradley's thigh to give him easier access, your hands gripping on to his shoulders as he let his cupped hand, two middle fingers, glide through your folds over and over again.

At the sensation of one of his fingers slipping into your welcoming heat, you let out a gasp - tightly followed by a moan. Fuck, even his fingers were big. Your hips started moving on their own accord, slowly swivelling against Bradley's hand. His other hand had begun pushing at his wet underwear, only managing to pull them to rest past his hips - successfully freeing his hard cock.

"You drive me crazy, Tiny - I've heard you touch yourself through the walls for so fucking long. Your little gasps and moans," he groaned, adding another finger to your hole, fucking them slowly in and out of you as the heel of his thumb dragged against your clit.

"You know why I call you Tiny, baby?" you shook your head, delirious with pleasure as you noticed Bradley had wrapped his other hand around his cock, pumping it slowly, the thick tip of him rubbing slightly against your abdomen.

"'Cause of your tiny fucking gorgeous moans as you try to keep quiet," Rooster moaned loudly as he pressed his cock harder into your skin for friction "Try to keep from moaning my name, huh?"

Nodding your head, you were properly grinding down onto Bradley's fingers now, fucking yourself against his palm as you bit your lip. "Yes, Bradley! I thought of you," you whined out, finally opening your eyes to look at him, soft moans and gaspy breaths rolling from your parted lips onto his as he pressed his forehead onto your.

"You gonna cum for me, Tiny? Gonna moan my name as you fuck yourself on my fingers?" brows pinched together, nodding against his forehead, small mewls and moans left you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his fingers meeting your bucking hips as they curved inside of you. The sound of him fisting his cock against your skin adding to the sensuality of it all.

"Bradley," his name was a drawn out moan "I'm gonna cum so hard on your fingers," you mewled out, pressing your tits against his hard chest. He didn't speed up his movements at your warning, but kept the pace and angle at the almost exact position of where they had been when you uttered the words.

"Cum for me." Bradley spoke against your lips "Look at me." he commanded, brown eyes meeting yours as you gasped, hips grinding hard against the palm of his hand before you let out a tiny moan of his name, euphoria washing over you as your body convulsed from the pleasure your roommate was giving you.

Bradley let out a soft curse, his fingers still fucking into you as he moaned your name, hips stuttering as he fucked his own hand too, his cum coating your hips and thighs as he shot his load over you. Slowly easing his two fingers out of you, you whimpered at the sensitivity, letting your arms wind around his neck as you buried your face in his skin.

"Bradley..." you voice was small, and his strong arms circled around your waist, hands resting on your ribs as he held you. "S'okay Tiny, I've got you," he smiled, kissing the top of your head.

"I've got you," he repeated, softly caressing your skin.

"We're gonna have to clean this up..."

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw imagine #smut #roommates to lovers

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somehow-a-human · 1 month

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The ineffables fell in love, and God & Satan decided to make a bet on true love.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Okay so, this is kind of a crack theory. But if this blog is for anything, it's for divulging my crack theories, and not feeling bad about it. My other blog is where I act like a properly sane person.

I have had a lot of nebulous thoughts that led to this theory but there was one bit of dialogue that tied it all together for me, that we will discuss at the very end. I'm going to start by laying out each of my *Clues* for you below, and we'll tie all my threads together by the end. Shall we begin?

Sanctuary Lights

Warlock, Adam, and most interestingly Maggie all have a single red light displayed on their right hand side of their "rooms". The symbolism of the right hand side implies the sacred, good, right, and stable. It's also where we find Aziraphale in reference to Crowley when they are balance and harmonious, Aziraphale is on Crowley's right.

A sanctuary light, is a light that shines before the altar of sanctuaries in many jewish and christian places of worship. A lit Sanctuary Lamp signifies the presence of God in the tabernacle that contains the Eucharist, and are traditionally red.

It's interesting that these three characters are linked via this specific visual. The assumed anti-christ, the actual anti-christ, and the local record shop owner? All of whom were somewhat under the watchful eyes of Crowley and Aziraphale at some point, but more-so Aziraphale. The right hand sidedness of the lights is initially confusing as you might expect Adam's to be on the left given he is the son of Satan, but we do know at the end of season one that he isn't good or bad, but rather, very human. What is this telling us about Maggie? I am a "Greasy Johnson is Jesus" truther but my mind wanted to go, "Oh maybe Maggie is Jesus!"

Aziraphale & Crowley's Angelic Playlist

Not Aziraphale and Crowley's Earthly Playlist, no no no, their Angelic Playlist.

These songs definitely tell a story. They are full of heartbreak, and longing, misunderstanding and disagreement, all while flowing with an undertow of deep love. And don't even get me started on The Book of Love. I have loved that song for so long and when I saw that was one of Neil's 3 picks for this playlist I did tear up a bit.

These songs no doubt illustrate the final 15 minutes. Aziraphale wants to leave, he needs to go to heaven to fix things, to protect humanity, and Crowley is hurt, he wants Aziraphale to run away with him. But, could they also mirror something else? Could they mirror Crowley and Aziraphale's disagreement before the Great War and the Fall? I mean it is their Angelic playlist afterall. It could have very easily been their any-other-adjective playlist.

In the Before the beginning scene we are shown, Angel!Crowley wants to stand up for the universe, and protect his creations, and Aziraphale wants to put his head down and hide. Angel!Crowley tried to do what he thought was right, and it resulted in a boiling pool of sulphur. He doesn't think Aziraphale can succeed at what he has already failed to do. This time, Aziraphale is the one who wants to stand up to Heaven and protect creation and humanity, and Crowley knows what that looks like, so he just wants to run and keep Aziraphale safe.

Maybe that's why the final fifteen hurts so much, even if they might not remember it well, because maybe they've been through this before, before the beginning.

Magic shop Ventriloquist Dummies

Do you see the resemblance here? I really wish we could read their name tags clearly, I feel like that would give us a ton of information, and with time, hopefully we'll get that opportunity. And we do have information that each doll is named and they apparently had enough information for each of them and their dress that it warranted a spreadsheet so it must've been detailed and important. You can read that in this tweet from Mickey Ralph's twitter:

From Mickey Ralph, Good Omens graphic designer's twitter: "I need a list of all the dummies and their names with as much information as possible for each of them. I think it would be best to have a photo of each of them and establish some kind of spreadsheet so that we can make sure the dressers put the right names on the right dummies"

It has been vaguely stated the likenesses of the dolls was not purposeful here:

But I'd like to posit a guess that maybe this answer just means they didn't create the dolls to look like A & C, but maybe found ones that looked like them.

Do the dolls mimic the hierarchy of God and heaven? Why are there two Crowley's? Why is Muriel so far up? Was she a high ranking angel before she was possibly demoted and became a 37th order scrivner?

@noneorother has a more in depth analysis of the puppets here, if you'd like to read their take.

"Enough to Make you Believe in True Love?"

This dialogue is what set off the chain reaction that led to my ultimately writing this post. Don't remember this quote? It's easy to miss and seemingly unimportant. Just after Gabriel recovers his memories and Shax accuses Beelzebub of being a traitor we get this:

Beelzebub: "I didn't collaborate with Heaven, anymore than Gabriel collaborated with Hell. I just found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides" Maggie: "That's really sweet" Nina: "Enough to make you believe in true love?"

Maggie and Nina who are still in the bookshop and watching these events unfold have been silent, but finally share these two lines. And I finally noticed, it's kind of a weird thing for Nina to say to Maggie, no? Why wouldn't Maggie believe in true love? Why does Nina think Maggie wouldn't believe in true love? We've seen Maggie pining over Nina and saying she's in love with her earlier in the season so why might a romantic who's never even talked to the woman she claims to be in love with not believe in true love, and why might her and Nina have discussed that before?

Is this little aside a conversation really being had by Nina and Maggie?

The Job Bet

That's why he's perfect for the bet! This is the final piece to my puzzle before I wrap up my ramblings and try to coherently tell you how they fit together. God and Satan make a bet, to see if Job is really truly righteous, and loves God, even if She takes away everything she's given him. They aren't above making bets about their creations, and taking everything away from them, testing them to destruction.

Conclusion

Let me weave you a web... The Starmaker, and Aziraphale meet in what we see is the first scene of season two. Maybe in the time before the fall they become close, and fall in love. Angels shouldn't have free will so that shouldn't be possible right? God and Lucifer!Satan? (maybe?) take notice and talk about it, maybe how they did with Job? Maybe they disagree about true love. Maybe God insists that in the ineffable plan, Crowley and Aziraphale will always end up together no matter what. Satan disagrees, they can be driven apart. They make a deal, a bet. The fall is inevitable, its ineffable, so they ensure Crowley and Aziraphale end up on either side of the factions, God lets Satan destroy everything they have, and then they'll see...

Fast forward to The Great War, the Starmaker doesn't really want to rebel like the other angels but gets swept up on their side of things, on the losing side, maybe with a bit of divine or demonic intervention. All he ever did was ask questions! He and Aziraphale are separated. Later, the Serpent of Eden slithers up next to the Angel of the Eastern Gate and strikes up a conversation. They don't remember each other, maybe a vague impression of familiarity, but the demon can't help but be drawn to the angel.

God and Satan we now know must chat about the goings on of Earth, making bets about Job and all that. That's at least my possible explanation for why Nina and Maggie have those weird lines during the Ineffable Bureaucracy reveal. Maybe God and Satan popped in to check on their bet and see what was happening with their stupid free wheeling creations?

Despite everything Aziraphale and Crowley are still together after all this time, and they do love each other. But they can always continue to be tested, even to destruction, or so they may believe.

Hey look, I'm not saying any of this is at all accurate but it was fun to come up with hehe.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 #crowley x aziraphale #good omens theories #crowley #michael sheen #aziraphale #david tennant #good omens clues #good omens theory #good omens clue #good omens crack theory #you dont have to take this seriously #like at all i wont be disappointed #but it was fun to write

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hotluncheddie · 1 month

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omg I didn't realize you wanted chubby steddie asks 🙈

as much as we love the babygirlification of Steve Harrington..... I'm obsessed with boyish manly Steve who is chubby and Eddie is obsessed with him!!!! I'm thinking about your one fic with the sweaty tank top!!!!! do you have more thoughts on this??

yesssssss!!! anon yes yesssssssss!!!!!

not me being like 'yeah! sweaty task top fic nice nice' then realising i have like three different posts that have Steve in a sweaty tank top lol

thankfully @scoops-aboy86 came in clutch with a new tank top sciario <3 (and held my hand thru writing the end lmao ty pal)

but i just love an ex jock trope, i love bulk under muscle and i think big beefy hairy guys are hot - and Steve harrington deserves to be all of that, and more

and also, importantly, eddie munson deserves to have all of that too, in and around him, all the time, in the form of Steve Harrington.

Eddie had come to accept the wealth of things he could be into, the actual buffet of people and scenarios that could get his dick hard. He's had more than his fair share of knuckle biting orgasms over the ex chief of police Jim Hopper. Before and, maybe worse, after getting to know him.

So he knew what it was to have something of a shame wank. To enjoy a moustache or two and a paunch at a middle.

But nothing, no deep seated daddy issues or fantasy of being held down, could ever prepare him for Steve Harrington.

Post upside down, post eventual college and transition to work. Post two bed apartment with Robin, then two bed apartment with Robin and Eddie. Then actual full blow house with Eddie, and more often than not weekend guest Robin. Dating Steve for as long as has was one thing, loving Steve with everything he had was another, and being loved by Steve was something he still had nights of panic about - silent tears as fear and self doubt gripped his throat, nightmares about it all being an elaborate prank that sneak their way in even with Steves arms wrapped tight around his middle.

but Eddie had him.

Was allowed to love him, and worship Steve for all that he was worth. It was wonderful. Eddie knew that.

But it had its challenges. Nothing past Eddie could've done would help current Eddie for what he was in for.

Like how Steve had bulked up over the years, settled and filled out in a way that made those visions of Hopper, and guys from bars he really shouldn't have been at, all come surging back.

Steve was thick, and strong and still so achingly beautiful. Boyish in his actions at times but also protective and capable in a way that made Eddie swoon. Honest to god. Made him feel like a main character in one of those bodice ripper books he had seen (taken out and read) at the library.

And then Steve made it worse.

So so so much worse.

Because Steve went and got a tattoo.

Well, another tattoo. He added roses to go along with the robin and branch on his arm, adding to its greenery with red petals and thorns that Eddie knew were secretly for him. He’d said, offhandedly, that they were his favourite and he knows, because he knows Steve, that thats something he'd listen to and remember.

He’s a die hard romantic.

And now Eddie is going to die, hard.

Soon, if Steve doesn't put a proper fucking shirt on.

Steves been wearing his stupid, old, cropped, white tank top since the appointment. He's "letting the tattoo breathe", "doesn't like the feeling of the healing skin against the fabric", "wants to do it properly". "hates Eddie and wants him to die of hard dick, big-fat-ball disease."

He glares at Steve from the other end of the couch, and maybe only three of those things are something Steve's actually said, but, he thought them. All of them. Must have.

Because Steve's tank is so old it's nearly see through, the peak of his pink nipple evident and distracting. The cropped end keeps rolling up and exposing his wider bellybutton and soft sides. And, as always, with any tank top, with any tank top on Steve, hit tits are there - hairy and lovely and out.

'Steve, please.' Eddie whines, he doesn't think he can take much more.

Steve just raises his eyebrows, taking a swig of beer and not looking away from the tv. 'If I sweat too much, it'll mess with the healing.' He says.

Eddie just crosses his arms, sinks lower into the couch. ‘Can you put on a normal shirt at least? For my sanity, for that alone, please?' Not wanting to sound desperate, but he is desperate.

Steve sighs, muting the TV. 'C'mere.' He holds his arms out and Eddie crawls into his lap. Still sulking, arms still crossed. ‘Eddie, you’re the one who gave me the tattoo. I’m following your instructions.’ Steve says gently.

‘M’firing Robin for getting you to sign the info form.’ He grumbles.

Steve smiles at him, tucking some hair behind his ears. ‘You can’t fire her for doing her job baby.’

‘Maybe not’ Eddie sniffs. ‘But I’m not sharing my baby blue ink with her next time she gets one of her slutty little lady sailor pin ups booked in.’ He mumbles to himself.

Steve pulls Eddie in closer, hands on his waist as he leans in to whisper in Eddies ear. 'Aren't I being so good though? Following what you said, no strenuous activity for two days right?' His voice a little breathy, soft.

And that makes Eddie pause, makes his insides churn and his heart rate increase. 'Ye-yeah.' He rasps, eyes wide. 'So good Stevie.'

'So we have to wait until tomorrow, like you said, yeah?' Steve asks, eyes all big and sweet, lips in a little pouty.

Fuck. He's right. Eddie dug his own grave.

'Yeah.' He sighs. He can do it, for Steve.

Steve smiles sweetly at him, tapping Eddie on the ass and shifting him closer so Steve can unmute the tv and keep watching his game. 'Good boy.' Steve says, kissing Eddies temple.

…Wait. Eddie scrunches his eyebrows, half hard and confused.

But Steve just holds him closer. Eddie buries his head in Steve's neck, and whines.

#:)#eddie gets domed by pouty dilf Steve #he doesn't know how to feel about it - but he likes it #<3 #ask #hotlunch #steddie #chubby steve harrington #tattoo artist eddie munson #and robin #i think Steve is their part time receptionist and also works at the coffee shop across the street #or part time florist across the street - to really live the au tropes #hes hot

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moved-to-mettatonsbestie · 6 months

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You know what. I DO wanna know about the religious imagery with Mettaton. Tell me all about it *laying on my chest kicking my feet up in the air*

@therowansweeps @mtt-brand-idiot

Let us start with his name. Remember that majority of the names in Undertale/Deltarune are very particular, whether it be for a funny joke or something with a dual meaning (ex: Toriel is just Tutorial, Undyne being Undying, etc). The etymology is rather important with characters, and Mettaton is certainly no exception. His name is most likely derived from the angel Metatron, found in Judaism, Christianity and Islam. He was one of the only two humans to attain Heaven in the form of an angel, he was originally a righteous man named Enoch who was gifted with the form of an angel by God once he died. Now, the names being similar could very well be a coincidence, but one must also take note of the fact that Metatron is transliterated as MTT in Greek; which is too much of a coincidence to not be intentional.

So... his name is taken from an angel, which is already an allusion to the notion of deities and religion. Furthermore, this angel in particular is a rather interesting candidate to be compared with Mettaton... Both of these figures were something else entirely before they obtained their true forms, and changed their name along the way. They have even further parallels when you look at the name's meaning and Mettaton's actions. Metatron is most likely derived from the verb memater, which means to guard or protect; very striking when one considers the fact that Mettaton is very much a protector in Genocide/No Mercy Route; he quite literally gives his life to protect the Underground, as a guardian angel would do.

Furthermore, he is quite literally a celebrity, an idol. He even says it himself, he is the idol everyone craves. This is a double entendre, referring to him being a celebrity or figure to look up to, or a literal deity. Deities are all considered idols, they are to be worshipped; the very notion is entirely what his character is about. He loses his humanity, he is no longer a person. Hell, he is not even seen as alive, in his quest to be the true idol for humanity and monsterkind. He is worshipped and adored, yet is it genuine? Do the people know and love the real him? No. He is the heater, the Underground's sexiest rectangle, he is seen as just a robot. He is complacent in this, yet to hide his past and help Alphys he gave his humanity away.

It is a rather cruel twist on the story of Metatron actually... Metatron was given a wonderful gift by his creator, God gave him immortality and the blessing of being truly holy. This transformation into something else was divine, yet the same cannot be said about Mettaton. He was given the body of his dreams, yet it will never come without a terrible cost. His humanity and agency was given away, he even got used for functions he would be completely against; such as his creator giving him human eradication functions to "make him more useful", something the human loving ghost would never agree to until the last possible moments in a Pacifist run. Regardless, Mettaton falls into both the categories of being the idol and being God's pawn, which is rather interesting.

And of course... he is not without true fans either, take Spamton for example. Spamton supposedly spent all of his time praying to an artifact, the very machine that created NEO; which evidently has direct ties towards Mettaton NEO. I honestly never played the Spamton NEO fight yet, so I cannot comment too much on it, however Mettaton is quite literally an overworld being being unknowingly worshipped and prayed to by someone who resides below; this blind faith being found in every religion.

So yeah... Whether it was directly intentional or not, Mettaton as a whole has a decent amount of religious imagery and themes with his character that it becomes rather important to properly dissect him fully. I barely remember writing any of this, he probably possessed me and made me write this.

#asks #mettaton #undertale #sorry for the tagging i just wanted to let yall know i am replying to you #oliver.txt

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salemcantupdate · 8 months

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Baldurs Gate shipping and who I am actively in love with

SO, currently romancing Gale because Astarion rejected me, full one said “I don’t wanna have sex with you, UGH, EW, imagine.” But Gale is so cute??? I don’t get whenever I see hate for him, especially cause we had astral projection sex which was absolutely fantastic. Wyll kissed me but I said “haha nah Gale” and I think I accidentally romanced Karlach??? I don’t know. Oh I also hugged the Guardian love him.

Now for shipping

SHADOWHEART AND LAE’ZEL IS SO FUCKING REAL TO ME OH MY GOD THEY GOTTA GET DOWN RIGHT NOW

They ARE rivals to lovers

Wyll and Karlach… they’re best friends. I’m sorry but all the women look like absolutely lesbians to me and I love that for them

But Wyll is so sweet and so cute and I do adore him, he’s so fun, but I built him so badly haha. Anyways, he is a WHORE, he flirts with EVERYONE, SLUT BOY, and he needs a happy ending. Don’t know with who though. And Karlach needs a short woman to peg.

Astarion is 100% asexual and I love him cause he’s just like me frfr which means he needs to be with me and only me. But also genuinely I think Astarion can only be happy with a redeemed Durge??? Like I think that’s the best path for him. Two monsters learning to be good together… GAH ITS SO CUTE. Either way, he’d need to be with someone who isn’t overly horny

Also once again I absolutely adore Gale. Gale is so good and so loving and he also absolutely loves body worship like he is hozier he was on his knees and worshipping his Goddess Mystra, loving her and now HE CHOOSES YOU IN HIS ROMANCE. HE BDKDCJKWHCISJDKWJD. I love him, so who should he be with? He’s more on the basic side overall, easy to get approval from, but also extremely romantic and loving, and autistic just like me frfr. So… actually maybe Wyll??? Wyll has some self worth issues especially after going all devil and Wyll is also a romantic? But ehhh… I dunno, it just doesn’t feel right.

Anyways, Halsin. I love the daddy bear man like YES he is absolutely fantastic and I love him so so so so much I want him carnally. But also I can’t really see him with most people haha. Maybe Gale though, imagine the astral projection scene but then Halsin is a bear, that’d be hilarious. But nah, I honestly like Halsin/Astarion/Reformed Durge Throuple. Essentially, finishing Astarion’s personal quest before initiation with Halsin will ensure that Astarion doesn’t get any self doubt. They are all on different parts of their journey for improvement, both Halsin and Astarion have severe issues with self doubt along with sexual trauma, and all of them have a “beast” inside. Durge with the Urge, Astarion being a vampire, and Halsin with his difficult-to-control wild shape. Plus Halsin to me is one of the most respectful and consent-focused characters, which I think would work well with what Astarion needs.

Ok so I wanna ship Karlach with some cute bard girl or something, someone just as fun and nice as she is. And you know what? Wyll and Gale is starting to grow on me. They’re both characters who try to “woo” Tav before doing anything, Gale with the Weave and Wyll with his dance.

Imagine, Gale teaching Wyll the secrets of the weave, likely Wyll has never interacted with it properly as his magic comes from a devil. This could help unlock Wyll and on some level separate him from Mizora. Oh wow, both these men have been manipulated and abused by extremely powerful non-humanoid women. They’re both self sacrificing gits who want to be the hero, both sacrificed much for power. I think it would start when Mizora first appears in camp, maybe. Gale would go to comfort Wyll over the transformation, maybe even compliment his horns. During the night of celebration Gale would see Wyll by the beach and offer to show him something magical, aka the Weave scene. They make some jokes and Wyll mentions the dancing, Gale prods, and Wyll says maybe another time.

GAH

I FEEL LIKE A FUCKING GENIUS

Alright, so, summary

Lae’zel and Shadowheart

Karlach and cute girl (if Alfira survived Durge I’d choose her but oh well)

Durge, Astarion, and Halsin

Gale and Wyll

EDIT: This post is no longer accurate to my views or feelings on the matter! I will write another one eventually since I actually know the characters a lot better. This was legit written before I even got to act 2 and I barely did anything in act 1

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yandere-daze · 11 months

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hey hi! is it okay to request hcs for yandere tatsumi x a reader who loooves drawing him? and how would he react? thank you!

Of course! Tatsumi is a wonderful character ^^ Now, it´s actually been a while since I last wrote something for enstars if I´m not mistaken, so I´m sorry if I´m a bit rusty!

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, worshipping of reader, religious themes ( talks of god, comparing reader to an angel), brief mention of death and implied burial in the end (it´s not actually important to the story or something that actually happens. )

Yandere! Tatsumi reacting to a darling that loves drawing him

It´s no secret that Tatsumi greatly admires you and everything you do. He treasures every single smile you send his way, every word you speak to him. You are utterly divine in his eyes, an angel sent by god himself to walk this earth.

Oh how blessed he feels, being alive at the same time as you and being allowed to breathe the same air. There is no doubt in his mind that you are an angelic being deserving of praise and worship and so much more.

Everything you touch is a masterpiece, so Tatsumi is utterly enchanted when he sees you draw something for the very first time.

He hadn´t intended to walk in on you while you were deep within your creative process, he had simply meant to check up on you to make sure that you were feeling alright. And of course he had already started missing you after a short while of being away from you, but he vowed to restrain that part of himself.

Nevertheless, he had found you hard at work, staring at your work-in-progress in full concentration. He didn´t dare say anything, afraid that he might accidentally break your focus if you did.

No, whatever you were drawing deserved to be brought into this world in all its glory, ready to be admired by every person that happens to look upon it.

So Tatsumi took this rare opportunity to simply admire your form. What he adored most about you was certainly your personality, it´s what made him fall in love with you in the first place, but he would be a heathen to ignore how wonderful you looked as well.

To say he was surprised when he managed to catch a glance of the piece you were working on was an understatement.

You were drawing him.

It was unmistakable. At once, Tatsumi felt as if an arrow had shot right through his heart as he felt it wildly thumping in his chest. Oh how lovely you were, to dedicate this drawing to him of all people! What had he done to receive this great blessing? Your kindness truly knew no bounds!

Stuck in blissful reverie, Tatsumi promptly gathers his thought again and then slowly makes his way over to you with a gentle smile on his face, still utterly awestruck and full of love for you.

He had vowed to not interrupt you but seeing that you were drawing him, he felt obligated to properly praise and thank you for your work. It was truly moving!

Tatsumi really couldn´t believe his luck, he would be very flattered and encouraging if you were to ask him for his permission to keep drawing him. You know he could never deny you but especially not when you would do something so kind for him!

If you were to gift him your drawing, he would be beyond grateful and would make sure to cherish it as it deserves. He stores it somewhere in his room, either keeping it in a secret hidden box or proudly displaying it on his wall. He both wants to keep it safe but also display it for the entire work to see. Everyone should learn how truly divine and awe-inspiring you were!

But he´d still prefer to be your greatest worshipper in the end.

You wouldn´t really notice just what big of an effect your drawing had on Tatsumi, he was acting as he normally would, very level-headed and kind. Tatsumi was very low-key when it came to his yandere tendencies and rather abnormal worshipping of you.

All you see is a gentle and comforting man that´s always there to lend a helping hand should you ever need it. Someone you can rely on.

But to him, you were something so much more. The sole light in his life, the embodiment of all that is good in the world. And he would cherish you forevermore until the day his body would be buried within the earth you walk upon.

#ensemble stars #tatsumi kazehaya #yandere ensemble stars x reader #yandere tatsumi kazehaya #yandere enstars #tatsumi kazehaya x reader #yandere enstars x reader #alkaloid #yandere ensemble stars #yandere tatsumi kazehaya x reader #gn reader #yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #cw yandere #cw obsession #cw worshipping #cw religious themes

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writingforatwistedworld · 2 years

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Hey there! So I've been wondering for awhile about the selfaware au,(i hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable if it does feel free to delete this request!) For diasomnia(particularly malleus and lilia) what would happen if fem! player gets pregnant?, Assuming that they're already at the wedded stage where the player is trapped in their respective house/palace and is married to them, how would they react to the news? Would they see the child as an extension of the overseer? Someone to also worship? Especially if the player married malleus and became the queen of briar valley their child being the heir, but what if it's lilia who's a former war general? On another note how would the faes in briar valley view the overseer's marriage if it was silver? Would there be like a sort glory to being the overseer's spouse and if so, is it right to assume that any noble house that marries the overseer would receive prestige? Overall how it could and would affect the hierarchy of the valley if the overseer were to marry and have a child with anyone from briar valley. I'm just really interested in the whole world building this au is capable of! I hope that this interests you and that i worded that properly! Thank you very much! Have a great day!

Since you seem mostly interested in Malleus, Lilia and Silver I will be writing for them. Please don't forget that my request limit are three characters.

Also, this will be gender neutral since you can have children even if you say you don't have a gender or identify as a male. You just need the working organ. (Also, I am no doctor of something like that)

Self-aware au

All of the written characters are aged up and at least eighteen years old!!!

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, pregnancy, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, religion, imprisonment, murder, death, obsession, possessiveness

Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge/Silver-Player gets pregnant (gn reader)

There you are, the greatest grace, the highest being, GOD THEMSELVES

Puking into the toilet

Usually Malleus would raise more of a fit if something like this happened but he knows what is going on

In fact, the entire Valley knows what is going on

And do believe me, my dear Overseer, they have gone from “let’s-imprison-them-out-of-love” to “they-aren’t-even-allowed-to-bathe-alone”

I have to admit,no matter how luxurious your lifestyle is, it’s very oppressing and stressful

Jokes on them because they want to avoid stress as much as possible

But how did this even start?

With Malleus fainting and hitting his head against the desk behind him (yes, it hurt him)

Ok need more info? Well then how about him nearly burning a forest down because he was a bit “too happy”

Also, there are suddenly way more guards in the castle

To his defense, he is having a child with God so...

Be ready to be hailed to death... figurative

There is a new temple build just for them, and a lot of prayer created, and statues carved, and you are more or less the subject of every singe discussion....

Wait... that last one is nothing new

But at least you are absolutely safe. Maybe a bit too safe.... that guard once looked at you and lost his head you know....

Oh wow.... you are in on a ride...

You know these huge families in which every single one of them is super hyped if one member is pregnant, treat them like they are made out of paper thin glass and think that their pregnant member can step on other pregnant people because duh

That's Lilia... not you and Lilia

Not Lilia and the entire Valley

Lilia alone

You won't be leaving that chair you are sitting on for an entire year

A year? But doesn't a pregnancy last nine months?

Well yeah but be is saying that “your body is exhausted and needs to recover”.... three months...

Also, Lilia mind is still from a time long ago so I wouldn't be surprised if he knows at the beginning more superstitions about pregnancies than actual facts

All the things, “a girl steals her parents beauty”, “you have morning sickness if you have a girl”, “the babies eyes are burned if you eat spicy stuff”, “cutting your hair could lead to the child having bad vision”, “you can only have children on a full moon”, ...

So be prepared to bear screams if you do completely normal things (sometimes, not always)

You have to plead to him to look up modern medical knowledge about pregnancies

He is somewhat bearable after that but I hope no one dares to visit especially now (except Malleus, Silver and Sebek of course)

Suddenly he is more like a card soldier than a general of the Thorn Valley

“Off with their head” and all of that you know....

Now, a human, I repeat, a human, somehow managed to make the Overseer fancy them

Gasps and sounds of fae fainting all over the place

If your significant other (or your kidnapper which is more realistic if we are being honest) would be a fae that would already have given them more power over the Valley than the Draconias could ever dream of having

Now imagine what new level of power a human would gain over the faes because of this

Non. You are correct

In fact, if you want Silver to be alive (or rather those who dare to threaten your harmonic relationship) then you should probably make it clear that everything is how you want it to be

You are not forced to be married to him! This is what you want! Not!!!

You totally aren't imprisoned! You just didn't like the outside! Not!!!

Everything is fine!

Despite being the youngest of them (by centuries) o do believe that he would be a pretty good father and also understand very well how pregnancies work

He was taught in school how it works, he had a happy childhood. What could he miss for a happy family?

Ok maybe you aren't here because you want to but what a happy pair you are on the photos!

Your eyes aren't glassy on them! Not at all! They are

The only wish he wouldn't fulfill is allowing you to leave

Why would you want to do that??! Have took care of everything!!! Don't leave him!

In the end he is the one who unlike the other two can be overpowered (even of the possibility is very slim) so he has to try... other means to make you stay

Don't worry dear! The potion doesn't harm the child. It just paralyzes your legs forever

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

Note

👁 summoning krulu's hands to get yourself off 👁

[Fem reader.]

TW: Exhibitionism, cultish mindsets.

It's dirty.

It's a disgusting abuse of the trust placed upon you, and definitely something you'll regret the moment you start.

But it's also a temptation you can't resist. It's the cookie jar sitting unprotected on the shelf, it's the big button with bright yellow warnings around it, it's the red light in an empty road- How could he fault you? You're only a creature of desire, of want and need and selfishness, just like the rest of your kind.

And all you want is his love.

The praise and adoration of your God so holy, the touch and fervor you've been trained to crave at the slightest hint, grown addicted to. You will never quite love or want anyone the same way you crave Krulu, the banished, the plague master, your purpose in life.

Of course, being a servant of siadar isn't all about wants, it's a routine of discipline and the utmost respect towards your higher- Of worship in every act, and in the case of a prized vessel, of flawless representation.

Fucking yourself with the boon he's been generous enough to lend you is definitely nowhere near flawless behavior...

The need however, is greater than you.

These last couple of weeks have been extremely busy for a plethora of reasons. A new floor just opened, its inhabitants require a lot of attention to get properly acclimated, and your lord is focused on a construct. All this running around means there hasn't been even the smallest window of precious time which you could seize to offer worship of any kind to your master. Krulu may live on in your body and share a headspace with you, but the two of you haven't been this distant since...

Well, a long time. You'll put it that way.

Feeling alone and needful, you became increasingly aware of the fact that you're alone in the break room the moment all other staff members bumbled out. Leaving you leaning against the kitchenette's counter, steaming cup of coffee in hand, flushed, thighs rubbing together.

At first, you only summon their hands just so you can pretend to be examining the reports left on the counter. Charred digits flip through white pages but your glazed eyes never poise on a single word, admiring the creases and veins of Krulu's hands instead. In moments, you're bringing them to your face. The sensation is odd, part of your brain can tell you're the one behind the action even if the hands aren't yours- It doesn't compare to your lord's actual touch, but it's the closest thing you have to him right now, so you lean heavily into the caress.

Leaning turns to kissing, lips trembling as you place chaste pecks on each of those fingertips, pretending you've been given the honor to hold his hand. Kisses upon his claws and knuckles, the other hand busy drifting down your uniform, cupping your breasts heartily. By the time it's pushing your skirt up and getting into your dark panties, you've got two of his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them in a way that would usually fill you with shame. If only you were given the chance to perform proper "lip service" again. It's been a while since the last time you've tasted him.

The slow stroke over your pussy is heavenly, you find yourself spreading your legs and sighing pleasantly, a moan dying around the digits in your mouth. You need this so bad, something quick, something to sate yourself so you can be functional again-

The hand massaging you stops to suddenly sinks its claws into your flesh, taking an oppressive grab of your entire cunt. You yelp, but the one in your mouth remains firmly lodged where it is, applying pressure to your tongue.

Some break you are having.

To say you didn't see this coming is a lie. Strong stimulus is always shared between the two of you, sooner or later, your higher would become aware of what you're doing.

But that doesn't mean you still aren't fearful of the consequences of your reckless actions, tensing as you prepare to be chastised. You attempt to utter something through the pointed extremities stabbing into your poor tongue, but all it achieves is a glob of drool that humiliatingly drips down your chin.

Excuses excuses- You insult me.

Never! Not in a million years would you dare.

Save your slaver for when you are ordered to speak.

Fair enough.

Summoned limbs no longer within your control, you watch helplessly as more of them form. Arms upon arms sprouting from your sides and back like the branches of a particularly macabre tree. One hand coils around your neck, a pair keeps your legs further apart, another gropes harshly at your breasts but doesn't offer you the privilege of direct contact. A pensive hum rings in the back of your mind. It's a warming sound, a deep, beautiful rumbe that has your head tipping back on instinct. Much to your surprise, Krulu resumes the lurid palming you started.

I could list the several codes you have broken in this one instance, but I need not do so, do I?

He pauses, you're not sure if you've been prompted to speak, so you merely nod. It's true.

You know exactly what you have done. Which is why I find it odd that you chose to do it anyway.

Palming turns to circling, your clit being tapped every now and then, with no particular rhythm.

My lamb does not act out like an infant. She does not lower herself to this pathetic display. And she certainly would not dream of utilizing the limbs gifted by her lord for pleasure of the self.

Guilt seeps into your very bones, but it's hard to look or sound apologetic when a finger prods its way inside your aching body. Immediately, your walls clench around the intrusion, attempting to trap it. You shudder, wishing you were allowed to sing Krulu's praises loud and clear. A bizarre yet familiar sensation graces you- As if something were peeling and poking at your mind, digging around, tingles spreading on your scalp. Memories, your higher is taking a gander at what he's missed lately.

A week of relative autonomy is all it took to render you into this miserable state?!

He seems more shocked than angry. The finger in you has stilled and you're trying not to groan in disappointment. You've irritated your master enough, let's not make it any worse. Your hips shift and your thighs flex with the effort of trying to not grind aimlessly.

A silence settles, you've known Krulu long enough to know this means they're thinking. In spite of being in this very same position numberless times before, it never fails to be anxiety inducing.

Stand straight.

He commands suddenly, forcing you to sober up. Doing as told is a bit harder than you'd care to admit, and you couldn't hide the disappointment written all over you even if you tried your damndest. However, none of the extra limbs recede. What is this now?

Walk. Get in the elevator, you will resume your tasks.

I- In this state?

Yes, chosen- In the state you have so gracelessly lowered yourself to.

You can feel his self-satisfied smile as if it were sitting right upon your own cheeks.

The moment you start walking, the hand around your neck tightens and two of his fingers plunge into your hole, a ruthless pace established out of thin air. He manages to pluck your nipples through the thin fabric of your uniform and you whimper sharply against his now thoroughly soaked digits, still drooling slightly. Nonetheless, on legs shaking harder than a newborn deer's, you manage to stumble forth and press the elevator button, slipping inside.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes while you select the entrance floor. Not out of shame or humiliation, you got exactly what you wanted, and you don't fear walking into the crowds while your master openly makes use of your body. It's the maddening pressure of his pistons into your cunt that's sending you into madness.

Hear me, and hear me well-

He calls, sounding a tad out of breath himself.

I demand nothing but the most efficient of performances today. Do not falter, do not halt, and do not lollygag.

You swallow, stepping out of the elevator once its doors part. A number of clients is already glancing quizzically at your state. You walk past Gallon without sparing the curious slime a second glance.

You may come, and you will.

You can feel it already, if the garish noises of your own wetness slicking Krulu's moving digits wasn't enough of a tell.

Because, since you appear to be utterly incompetent at self-restraint, I will personally see that your carnalities are calmed.

You swear you can feel his teeth rasping against your earlobe. Your arm flies out to steady yourself against a wall and your eyes roll back as an orgasm begins taking over, forcing you to hunch and shake, muffled moans making a tiny puddle of drool on the floor.

He laughs at you in your headspace.

Stop by my floor once the moon shows itself, my hopeless vessel.

It's going to be a long day, and an even longer night most likely.

#Krulu oc #terato #monsterfucker #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #minors dni #not sfw

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tavyliasin · 3 months

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BG3 FicFeb NSFW - Day 3

I'll be honest with you darlings I had every intention of making this one spicy but then feelings happened? Still, it was fun to write, and an interesting scenario I might re-use at a later date. Shortfic below the cut (still NSFW) with some CW/Tags for angst, hurt/comfort, scars, wounds, mention of character trauma, but I promise it is mostly on the fluffy comforting side~

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Day 3 - Body Worship

It had been far too long since Tav had found an opportunity to bathe properly. Not just scrubbing off with a damp cloth, or dunking into a freezing lake, a proper warm bath. Of course, taking advantage of having access to a brothel’s finer rooms whilst investigating a disappearance was something she took very seriously. She had to be completely certain she wouldn’t miss a vital clue amongst the perfumed soaps and soft towels. Who knew when the last piece of information they needed might be at the bottom of a wine bottle, or lurking in the bowl of fresh fruit…

“Well, that is certainly better than a murky pond.” Astarion echoed her thoughts as he sank into the water beside her. “Gods that feels good.”

“We should take up the role of investigators more often.” Tav chuckled, reaching for the silver bowl that held a fresh sponge and some soaps. “Here, let me, for once.”

“You don’t need to-”

“I want to.” She left little room for further complaint, taking his hand in her own and delicately sponging away the dirt that seemed to cling to his nails.

“I am not about to break, you know.” He watched her with an eyebrow raised as she continued to be far more gentle than he felt he deserved.

“I know.” If anything, Tav slowed slightly, taking a moment to caress his fingers reverently. “But the world has been rough enough with you lately. Is there anything wrong with a little tenderness instead?”

“Yes- No. Maybe.” He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say as she brought his hand to her lips and kissed each fingertip in turn. “You…Well…” He sighed, giving in to her care instead for now.

“Relax, Astarion, please.” She trailed a line of kisses up his forearm to his elbow, her fingers gently brushing the faint lines of decades old scars and far fresher bruises marking his pale form. “You know, you really are beautiful.”

“I know.” He replied, out of reflex. “Sorry, old habits… I suppose truly I have no idea if I am or not, other than the parts of myself I can see clearly. Even the water doesn’t hold my reflection any more.”

“Then let me be your mirror.” She smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair that threatened to fall forwards into his eye. “Now, where was I?”

Tav began to wash his other hand and arm, with the same reverence she had used before, but this time giving voice to the thoughts that floated through her mind as she did.

“Here, your fingers. I could comment on how skilled they are, how you can make me feel, but what I admire most is how they always find a solution. You’ve picked locks, disarmed traps-”

“You can do that just as well as I, my love.” He protested, though just as quickly his arguments met their rebuttal.

“Maybe, but you were the one who unlocked my heart.” Tav laughed at the absurdity of her own statement. “It’s cheesier than an entire dairy, I know, but it’s true. I spent my whole life just going from one fling to the next, living each day like it might be my last. Living like that…well you just don’t think of a future. Or who you might spend it with. It was better to just enjoy what I could when I could. Besides, attachments could be exploited.”

“And you see a future now? With tadpoles in our brains, and the threat of an actual mindflayer Elder Brain looming quite literally over our heads?” Despite his words, his expression was soft in the low light of the room.

“I see one worth fighting for.” She leaned forwards and stole a kiss, but only for a moment, pulling back to leave him wanting more.

“Such a tease, my love.”

“I learned from the best~” She put on the hint of a flirtatious tone to match his voice. “Anyway… Here. This part next.”

“A scar, darling? Really?” He almost pulled his arm back, like her touch burned the mark deeper into his skin.

“This was not long after we met. I remember worrying that you might lose too much blood if the wound were just a fraction to the left.” Tav dipped the sponge in the warm bathwater again and carefully cleaned the area, rinsing off the soap when she was done. “But that’s not what I think most when I look at it, or any of the other marks that battle has left upon you.”

“Enlighten me, what is it that you see in such a blemish?” Astarion frowned, struggling to see what she meant.

“Endurance. A fight that didn’t end you. A strength that goes beyond what you can lift in your arms.” She sat back a moment, the myriad of scars across her own body clearer to see as she gestured to them. “Something we share, our will to live, and to be more than the world tried to make of us.”

“Well…I suppose…” He sighed, looking closer at Tav’s form now. Subtle muscles and soft curves, the map of old wounds telling as many stories as his own, and not one of them diminished her beauty in his eyes. “There is some charm to them, maybe.”

She continued to cleanse the sweat and marks of the long days from his body with tender care, her praise like a balm to the bruises on his soul. She almost paused when it was time to move around to his back. “Is it alright if I…?”

“There is nobody I trust more to resist the urge to put a dagger between my ribs.” He mimicked the motion playfully with empty hands as he spoke. “Oh no need to be so serious, my darling, the point is that I trust you. Completely.”

The vampire shifted, turning his back to her. The view was always a painful one - he was free, but the marks remained, the knowledge of the pain in their making broke her heart if she let those thoughts back in. “Even this,” she began carefully, “has never once diminished your worth.”

Tension rose in his shoulders, even as she tried to massage it away. “A poem of subjugation is all that is, a beautiful lie that promised power.”

“And yet you are more powerful than ever, you didn’t let the lie consume you. How about this instead.” She put the sponge aside, and began carefully tracing her own pattern across his back as if overwriting the scars his past had left. “I’ll write my own verse for you, let it erase the old one.”

“What is it exactly that you’re writing?” A hint of worry tinted the curiosity in his voice as it dropped a little quieter than it had been before.

She leaned forward and whispered close in his ear. “My wedding vows.”

#bg3ficfeb #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #fanfic #a tav's guide #hurt/comfort #body worship #angst #scars #a vow beneath the scars #overwriting the past with something beautiful

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quinloki · 1 year

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Asking for a second round for the kinks

What about Lactophilia, Negotation and Pegging with croco, doffy and corazon

That list Is so usefull >3

I almost answered this as soon as I saw it and I was like - no, no Quin you gotta do some writing ( and I did! and today has been a pita, so I'm going to answer this and unwind).

I almost wanted to lump "Negotiation" and say "all OP characters negotiate properly because it's a foundational rule of BDSM and kinks" - but! I realized two things: 1 - not all OP characters are non-toxic, and 2 - there's a lot of variance in how negotiations can be handled, so we can do that \o/

I'd do this by Character, but I kind of want to do it by Kink - I think it'll be better for the subtle differences between Sir Crocodile and Doflamingo (who are very similar), and also help highlight the dichotomy between Doflamingo and Rosinante.

*puts on glasses* Lacto-philia - well, I don't need to look this one up (go-go root word language course from college) - this is the enjoyment of breast milk. Kin-kay <3

Lactophilia -

Sir Crocodile: I dunno - Croco just doesn't strike as a "drink from the source" kind of guy, and while I could see him utilizing any lactation on his partner's part in some kind of kink session I feel like it would be tied to humiliation more than lactation. But it would also depends on his partners reaction to their own lactation.

If any part of it makes them uncomfortable in that "we're not talking about neutral or sexy embarrassment kind of way" then he's not going to force things.

Doflamingo: Sure - A "try something one, more and more if he likes it" kind of guy, I think Doffy would be open to experimenting when the opportunity arose. He would, at the bare minimum, enjoy groping and teasing your breasts until he figured out how everything worked. Whether it was caused by birth control or pregnancy he would have a justification for it - something to either quiet your false protests, or something to quiet your legitimate ones.

Doffy wants to see you squirm - canon universe or not, it's not like you can run from him if he makes you uncomfortable. (Doflamingo is such a yandere, and I think he'd openly admit to it too.)

Rosinante: Yes to FUCK Yes - Corazon certainly wants a family, whether he thinks he deserves on or not, or whether he could ever have one, is a completely different discussion, but things surrounding the building of a family certain get his motor running. There's reasons more than just pregnancy that can cause lactation, but whatever the cause it'll be the connection the younger Donquixote can't help but make.

He may sate his kink privately if you're not comfortable with it, but it's more likely that he'll be showering you with praise and assurances and compliments, trying his best to validate your feelings toward it while trying to help you become more comfortable with it. He is a drink from the source kind of guy if you'll let him, and honestly he just wants to lavish you with pleasure. (Rosi is 100% here for the whole Worship your body vibe).

Negotiation -

Sir Crocodile: This is hard to assign a rank to, but we'll go with a Yes for Crocodile. He's here for communication, and he'll respect your boundaries (much as he can), and he's certainly not against writing up a contract. There's no need to be so formal between lovers, but he also understands the comfort that can come from such a document. Mind yourself if you agree to one, this is a business man, you're only a tick or two away from making a deal with the devil if you put things into writing. Verbal arrangements are far more flexible, and Crocodile takes contracts seriously.

The are amendable, though, you're not etching things into stone. People and circumstances change, after all.

Doflamingo: Oh god you don't even know - you want to make a contract with Donquixote Doflamingo? I think I'd rather bury an offering at the crossroads and deal with an actual devil. Every word of the contract will be abided by, you can be assured. That means you better know every word in that contract too, and not just definition 1 of those words, but definition 2 and the biblical interpretations while you're at it.

Doffy's hot button is manipulation, and if you're going to sign your life away to his whims he won't pass it up. But, he's not entirely unreasonable - he won't force you to sign a contract. He's fine with verbal agreements, and he's even likely to abide your cute little safe words too, so long as you don't displease him. You're his favorite little distraction (or his sweet true love), he wants you to be happy.

Rosinante: Sure? - Rosi will sit down and work out all the kinky details of your relationship on paper if you want. He'll also be amenable to having conversation before and after each session, putting safe words into play, and even some back up safe-sounds/actions in case words are failing you.

Pegging -

Sir Crocodile: No - Absolutely not. Exit only. Not his thing. Not even willing to try. You may, might, possibly be able to beg him to try it once, if it's something you're absolutely dying to try at least once. He *may* like it, his opinion may change, but he may also avoid you for a couple days while he tries to shake it off and reclaim his dignity.

Control is a big thing for him, and it's hard to be in control in that situation.

(I need to admit I am a big, horrible fan of Croco x Doffy, I love them, and I generally prefer Croc as the bottom, but! (heh, butt) in an x reader context my head canon is what it is XD ).

Doflamingo: Sure - You give what you get, or get what you give in this case. It better be something you're comfortable with cause he's not going to be the only one receiving. And it may only be once or twice. Doffy likes his control, and more than that he likes manipulating people. The likelihood that he's manipulated you into pegging him is low, but he's a kinky bastard, so he's certainly not averse to the idea.

Gods help you if you can't please him while doing it though.

Rosinante: Yes - I'm undecided if Rosi is switchy when it comes to dom/sub dynamics, but I do think he is very much a switch for top/bottom dynamics. He'll give and receive for just about any situation and kink, with very few exceptions. For him the point is pleasure, his and yours, maybe more yours than his, but not so much that you catch onto him pampering you. If you want to peg him, he's just going to make sure it's good for both of you, whatever accessories end up being needed.

Kinky One Piece Head Canon

#kinky one piece head canon #sir crocodile #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #x reader #sir crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader #rosinante x reader

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yakuzacasual · 1 year

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The smoochening

PREFACE

hi.

“““TYPICAL SMOOCHES”““ with Yagami, Higashi, Nishiki, Shinada, Hamura, Sugiura, Tsukumo

TAKAYUKI YAGAMI

Chad Fan of meaningful kisses on the nose, on the crown of your head, on the cheeks, the hands, basically the anything but your lips. Not because there is anything wrong with them per se, he just has this weird conviction that lip-kissses are perceived as sexual and in general just not very special. Don’t ask him how he got that idea, but it’s a hill he WILL, surprisingly enough, die on.

Kisses on the lips can be expected anytime you are apart for a longer period or something very special (read dangerous) happens and he needs to make sure you are there with him to stay. Such kisses will be deep, loving and last until both of you are absolutely out of breath. Most likely followed by one or even few kisses to the temple, as a sign of security.

Beacuse each of his kisses has a meaning you will learn to tell apart. If temple is security and lips are longing, nose is playfulness, forehead represents care, neck stands for trust and hands obedience. Yagami may be a puzzle, but gods be damned if he is not the most fascinating, showstopping, incredible puzzle known to mankind.

TORU HIGASHI

Will not kiss you on the lips until the hell freezes over. In a sense kind of similar conviction to Yagami, with the small difference being - it does actually turn him on. Not the butterfly kisses of course, but he doesn’t like those. If he is to kiss you, he will do it properly. And then get horny, which just turns into this viscious cycle. In other words, the best he can do is a smooch on the corner of your lips.

That said even these ideal “proper” kisses he so glorifies are still somewhat inexperienced. Some teeth knocking here, some freezing up because he opened his eyes and got embarrassed there. And as much as he finds that shameful, he also thrives off the possibility of learning with you as his first love. Hopefully teaching him or learning alongside him is just as exuberant for you. It does take time though, since he refuses to be kissed.

Other kinds of kisses are unlikely anywhere but in sexy settings. He will of course worship your body during sexual intercourse, as well as give you a caring kiss in the afterglow, but that’s about it. PDA is rough with that one.

AKIRA NISHIKIYAMA

All about them sloppy kisses in the side alleyway that makes the kids go “eww”. For how many partners he boasts to have, his technique leaves something to be desired. But does that really matter when you feel him melt under the swipe of your tongue? I think not. Loves to have his lip bitten and his throat secured by your hands as you do the deed. Applying just a little bit of pressure there, not enough to choke but only to give him a taste would drive him absolutely wild, if that’s what you are going for. Deep kisses do not automatically mean sexy times though, sometimes he feels like it and that’s all there is.

Definitely the kind to kiss your hands, just because he enjoys them a lot. It’s a little thing, but goes a long way to show you belong to him for any pesky onlookers. Sometimes he might go for butterfly kiss on the lips, if situation calls for it, but it almost always turns into a deep kiss. He likes them a lot, in case that was not clear.

Would and will gently suck your fingers in public if he’s feeling frisky. Angel act afterwards, no one could ever tell he did that. But you know.

TATSUO SHINADA

Wouldn’t say that out loud, but he likes to kiss you the most after (or while, whatever works for you) you eat something sweet, just to get a taste.

He is the master of any kiss ever and he offers A LOT of them, this PDA king. A little peck in the morning, a smooch on the cheek in the afternoon and so many kisses in the evening. For what its worth, he tries his best to balance them out, so as to not overwhelm you and takes your feedback into consideration always. They are hardly ever harsh, despite their frequency. They would be somewhere in the middle, you definitely feel them and they linger for a bit, but nothing that would have you questioning your senses. These kinds are saved for very special ocasions.

Unconsciously gives you a little massage. Holding your head during a kiss? Nice little scalp scrapping. Holding a hand instead? His fingers are already working out some tension fron your muscles. It’s just a thing (tm) he does and is pretty good at. Outright asking him to do a massage might be dangerous though - consciously he gets very dedicated and rough. Will pepper any accidental bruises with kisses, if it helps.

KYOHEI HAMURA

Bitch kisser, what else is new. It happens on his terms or not at all. Knows exactly when you want to get a kiss, like a special spider sense of his. It’s almost comic how well it works. You will only get it if you are being good, which is hardly defined so good luck, or when he feels like it. It does happen quite often though, that he feels like it. His kisses are much like his love in general - ravenous, mind-numbing and absolutely filthy. In the sense that he will take it in the middle of the street or your meeting, if he so pleases. He won’t do it if he feels you definitely do not want to, though. The sense works both ways, even if it greatly annoys him that there is something he cannot have.

Aside from your usual lip-kisses which are a given, and despite their nature are not always sexual, he enjoys having a bite of you. Like the hungry animal that he is, he gladly sinks his teeth into your earlobe, neck, tigh - anywhere you let him, really. Bruises happen, but they leave a bad taste in his mouth for a reason he fails to explain. It’s one thing when it accidentally happens because he is being consensually rough with you, and other to do it by design. He’d rather just leave teeth marks. They are more “adult”, he says.

FUMIYA SUGIURA

Will abuse his power of parkour to take you by a pleasant surprise every time. He enjoys the short, fleeting kisses the most - enough to give just a taste to keep you and himself coming back for more. His kisses are usually just a random shot without any deeper thought. Wherever rulette lands on a given day, is where he strikes. When time allows, he enjoys peppering your face in them, kissing every individual component one by one and even vocally listing them as he goes.

If you have any beauty marks, moles, freckles and other blemishes that are okay to touch, it will be a prime entertainment for him to smooch each and every one of them during your together time. You might be watching a movie together, when suddenly he catches that one cute mark on your hand again and the fun begins from there onwards. Pays a lot of attention to them during spicy times as well, just to remind you that none of these will ever be imperfections to him.

MAKOTO TSUKUMO

Not interested in kisses other than a sporadic cheek kiss or lovingly bumping your noses together. It’s just not his love language style and he is not interested in changing it. You are free to kiss him however you wish, he will even entertain anything more sophisticated just to make you happy. But have no illussions, he is not in any way good in it. With time, he learns to like kisses to the crown of your and his head. Depending on who does the spooning, especially whenever you would play games together, Tsukumo likes in equal measure to receive, as well as gift you those fleeting touches as a reminder that what you have is very important to him. Even if it may seem otherwise to you, by design of his character.

After some time spent with you and assuring himself this is a thing to last, he will make an effort to learn more about the arts of kissing. While he will still not initiate any action, he wants to feel more prepared to please whenever you get the mood. The boys put in all the effort to pass on their personal experience onto him, but at the end of the day Tsukumo realizes it’s not the kind of thing he can just read a book about. The next time you give him a kiss, you see him visibly responding differently, less neutrally.

Who knows, maybe he will end up liking it.

#yakuza x reader #yakuza x you #judgment x reader #yagami takayuki #yagami x reader #higashi toru #higashi x reader #akira nishikiyama #nishikiyama x reader #nishiki x reader #shinada tatsuo #shinada x reader #Kyohei Hamura #hamura x reader #sugiura fumiya #sugiura x reader #makoto tsukumo #tsukumo x reader #i've gone mad

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lesbiansforboromir · 2 months

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After the war. (dndrabble)

Well the poll said to throw it down raw but it turns out I'm incapable of doing that so just a few notes;

Sataro and Vekna are of an ancient race of high elves whose civilisation was entirely obliterated about 3000 years ago by a great cataclysm. This civilisation had had a historical tradition of nomadic life and worship of a primal god of fire (kossuth), but that was being suppressed by it's leader's own imperialist designs that valued a static population and military conquest. Sataro was a field-marshal in the army and from a middle-class family, Vekna was a Paladin of the old religion and came from a sub-section of society that still held to entirely nomadic life.

During a sudden attack upon their capitol by giants, Sataro sacrificed herself in order to give civilians a chance to evacuate. She would have died of her injuries but Vekna used some amalgamation of purpose and divinity to preserve her in stone, alive but still and barely conscious. This statue was placed in an old monastery and eventually forgotten.

Sataro awoke properly 3000 years later and was inducted into a dnd campaign. She believed all her people long dead, including her wife, and had been internally struggling with what her life could even mean to her when everything that HAD ever meant anything to her was gone.

During the campaign, after returning to the last remnant of the continent that Sataro's civilisation used to be on and, finding an abandoned dwarven kingdom called Bane Anvil, the Party ALSO found the dwarven king of the place preserved alive in it's vault. He had paused time somehow, awaiting the moment he would be needed again. And with him, Sataro found Vekna too. Apparently, unable to move on, Vekna had befriended the dwarves and it's king and helped them with this stasis contraption just for the small possibility that she and Sataro might find each other again in this time (my DM did this to me without me knowing a single thing I was so normal about it you've no idea)

This drabble takes place after they have finally returned to the party's base of operations, a dwarven city that gives them a house as a reward for the king thing. It is the first time Sataro and Vekna had properly had a moment of real privacy and rest since they were reunited. o7

Oh pps addendum, this ancient race of High Elves lived in the frozen north lands and averaged 8ft tall. It was a running joke in my brain that Sataro, whom is 7'7, was actually considered short in her time but is now surprised to find that she dwarfs most people in this era.

After taking one look at the utterly unprepared bed in the room they had chosen, Sataro and Vekna had quietly sought, and found, three of the unclaimed mattresses throughout the house. All three mattresses joined their original single one on the floor and made up a wide bed that would have been luxuriously spacious to anyone but Vekna and Sataro.

"Big enough, you think?" Sataro asked without much faith.

"Of course not. There is no bed big enough in this sodden era."

"We made do in Redbite."

"You were on me like a fool clinging to a fight the night in Redbite."

Sataro quirked a brow at her wife, "And you were not?"

"Well, you are so little," Vekna drawled, "I was worried you might freeze to death without our… four quilts from home." She made a great show of counting all the layers Sataro's trancing once demanded and mirth quirked at her lips once she was done.

Sataro sent her a typically unamused glare, and Vekna responded to the call accordingly; with a shameless grin.

They sat in their stalemate for a moment before Sataro conceded a silent defeat and grunted, "Dekash.. But it is too warm here for clinging."

"We don't need covers." Vekna offered immediately, quicker than Sataro had expected.

"… I suppose the open window and sea breeze should keep it icey enough," she said, smiling.

"It will." Vekna assured decisively. And then continued in a grumble, "Beggars belief how quickly snow is left behind in the south. At least in Bane Anvil I could find relief on the surface."

"You lived there then?"

"A little while." She replied, though immediately turned on Sataro as if knowing the thought that caught in her mind, "Ack, of course the cows were long dead before then Rybka."

The centuries-old 'little fish' nickname hit them both gentle and harsh and without discussion they stepped closer, shoulders brushing as they began unbuckling their armoured layers. "Yetty and Etta survived the war?" Sataro asked in a lower tone.

"Mhm," Vekna rumbled, matching her pitch, "I swear, too clever by half for just pulling burdens. I did not even go looking for them, they just came back to the yurt by themselves after the dust settled."

Sataro snorted, "What a perfect way to annoy you," she smirked back, flashing her teeth.

"They did it on purpose, I had thought for sure I was finally rid of them," Vekna growled.

"They weren't easy animals, even for the two of us. You could have sold them on." Sataro set her splint mail aside.

"No, I couldn't have."

They allowed that admission room to breathe and by the time they could speak again Vekna was rid of her heavier layers.

"The kits helped." She continued, eventually. "With the cows."

"They made migration with you?"

"Yes, but they cared for them in Mithlond too."

Sataro's head tilted curiously, a soft look coming to her eyes. And Vekna gave an irritable sigh of something before answering her silent question, "Your brother's family made their settling in the city for a few seasons, after."

"Gnestat hated Mithlond."

"So did I."

"… Did it help, to have them there?"

"Mm, for a time. In the beginning."

"And after?"

Vekna paused before turning her massive bulk fully towards Sataro and looking down at her with a hard stare.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course."

Vekna sucked her teeth in frustration, sarcasm bleeding into her tone, "Fine, let me say that differently, are you going to brood over ancient history just for the sake of feeling guilty if I tell you?"

Sataro grimaced.

Her nose scrunched with a displeasure that dug the scars around her eye even deeper and she bit her tongue against any rebuttal. Instead, looking for retaliation and reassurance both, she reached for the heavy blue cloth bound so particularly around Vekna's waist. She felt more than heard her inhale at the contact but Sataro did not pause, she stroked once over the wedding fabric before digging two fingers into each knot and beginning to gradually prize them free.

"Probably," she conceded, though she clearly did not like the admission, focusing on the patterns of metal thread woven in the familiar garment. And then in an even lower tone she admitted, "It is not why I asked."

Vekna's brow cocked curiously as Sataro finally pulled the long scarf away and let her hands act out the careful muscle memory of folding it over her palm. The colour was more faded than she remembered it, but it still held. Vekna said nothing for a moment as she watched this action with eyes full of something unspeakable.

"Why then?" she finally asked and Sataro seemed to writhe at the question.

Vekna held her breath as she watched Sataro struggle with what she wanted to say. Her shoulders tensed, her brows knitted and a muscle bounced in her jaw in a way that looked painful under the scar tissue. Eventually the look of conflict, ferocity and scarlet that had been growing was directed Vekna's way.

"I do not know how to say this."

"The look on you…" Vekna said in a release of breath, tracing her hand over Sataro's brow and following the scars down her cheek, a touch Sataro pressed into like a cat.

"Thinking too hard again, as always," Vekna chided, "It is not like you to falter though."

That won her weary smile and Sataro's ears wilted a little as she let her forehead drop to rest against Vekna's chest. "Mph, my head has been full of wool since I awoke. Makes giving up on thought very appealing."

Vekna clicked her tongue once again, her hand coming to rest over the back of Sataro's neck. "That is because you don't 'think', you agonise."

"And you arbitrate."

"And you are dodging my question." Vekna gave a single tug on Sataro's braid and drew her eyes back up. "It is me. Just say it."

Sataro thought she heard the rarest note of a nervous plea in Vekna's voice and, real or not, her blood rose to meet it fiercely. For her, she would beat her thoughts into words. She dug one hand into the fabric of Vekna's shirt at her collar, breathing out through her nose once, before, "Fine. I think I am too… uh.. ravenous."

Vekna's beautiful brows rose. "Ravenous?"

"Yes. It- ah… it is too much. It makes my hands and my voice shake."

"For what?"

"You, obviously."

"You have me," Vekna hummed warmly, but Sataro was not reassured.

"No, even telling you this, I feel as though I am trying to tear pieces out of you."

"Maybe you should."

"No, listen-" Sataro urged, trying to shake her for emphasis, "I want to lock us in this room and hear you talk for a hundred days, or however long it takes until I have heard it all-"

"That doesn't sound so bad, a little dull."

"-Especially what you don't want to tell me, I want to-.." her free hand clawed the air in her effort to explain herself, "-dig it all out of you. It is a brutal feeling."

This does give Vekna pause, "… Wanting me?"

"Or missing you. Maybe they are the same. Either way it is too much, it feels like I will break something."

There was a silence between them for a while, Sataro weathering Vekna's usual unreadable but intent stare with a durability grown from centuries of practice.

"Mm," Vekna began at last, "so my standing here is not enough, you want to tear out everything new about me that you do not know, even the secrets I find hard to explain, just to wet your thirst of me after so long apart? It all must be yours?"

Sataro's expression pulled towards rueful and raw annoyance at having been so concisely laid bare and she opened her mouth to fluster a response, but Vekna's eyes were raptorial when she interrupted her, "And what have I just done, Rybka?"

Sataro frowned, then blinked, eyes widening with a surprise that soon folded and broke into an emotion so potent it gagged her. It made her reach for Vekna's face, cup her near manic canine grin with hands that dragged at her skin as she pressed her battered nose into Vekna's cheek. As arms enveloped Sataro's chest she pushed and Vekna laughed through those canines as her back collided with the wall, a warm but sour sound that made Sataro's torn ear twitch and her chest burn.

They breathed as one for a while, until their hearts calmed and the burning tempered.

Sataro's hands were still greedily running over Vekna's grinning features that nuzzled into every touch when she finally sighed and her gaze sharpened with renewed purpose.

"What happened between you and the family, after?"

Vekna grunted, rueful amusement showing on her face as she realised what she had encouraged. Still, she did not try to deny her a second time, her expression as she held Sataro's gaze pinching with something like melancholy, or pain.

"They were there. When I was told nothing could be done and you were taken away."

Sataro did not blink. "They grieved with you?"

"Yes, in a way," there was a pause before Vekna pushed away from the wall in a huff and concluded darkly, "-then they moved on without me."

She looked away, down, to fix upon Sataro's waist sash. Her short in and out breath was sharp and her fingers touched the fabric almost nervously at first, before sinking into it's softness as if to savor it. "They said your name again, as though you were dead. I could not be there for that."

"Did you stop seeing them?"

"They came to find me a few times, they tried to bring it up with the Order too."

"They did?"

"Yes!" Vekna said with a hollow laugh. "Went crying to the Mother-Superior, something about my needing help, to stop going to see you, needing to 'let her go'. When I told them you were conscious at times they thought I had gone mad I think." Vekna's manner of prizing the knots of the fabric free was decidedly slower than Sataro's had been, giving her wife time to slide arms about her shoulders as she worked.

"Gnestat did not come to visit?"

"Not when you were awake." Vekna muttered.

"… but I am sure I remember speaking to someone else.."

"The kits would make the journey with me, even after their father stopped."

"Oh! Yes," Sataro chuckled fondly, "Jurnat left flowers…" Memories of her niece and nephew seemed very sharp suddenly, jagged and bloody with a grief she had yet to grow around.

"I'm surprised they were so dogged," she said with a hoarseness that Vekna lovingly ignored.

"Busybodies all of them, I preferred it when they barely tolerated me."

Sataro's closed her eyes, swallowing around the bittersweet lump in her throat.

But Vekna's frown only grew and her lip curled venomously. "And then there was your fucking mother."

This was all but spat, making Sataro flinch in place, though Vekna quickly halted her efforts and let go of the scarf to instead just cradle Sataro's ribcage in her hands.

"I hadn't meant to say that."

"I'll forgive you." Sataro said in a sardonic but tight hum, "… so even she felt compelled to finally speak to you?"

"When she could not help it, and I couldn't escape."

Sataro settled her back and torso into Vekna's confident hold with a weary and resigned sigh, running her hands up and down Vekna's shoulders throughout the silence. It seemed to soothe.

"Gnestat and I would complain about her together, now and then…" Vekna mused with a distant look.

"And what would you say?"

Sataro's attempt to make the question sound casual failed abysmally and Vekna growled back at her. "Why ask me something I want to tell you but I know you do not want to hear?"

Sataro gave a frustrated shrug. "I will have to know eventually."

"Who says so? I think I will take it to my grave."

"If you must, let's see…" Sataro's eyes wandered to the ceiling.

"… See what."

"What's the worst thing I can imagine my mother doing…"

Vekna leaned forward and bit her ear, hard, worrying at it's cartlidge as she pulled her closer whilst Sataro chuckled and tried to shake her free.

"You really are ravenous." Vekna growled through her teeth.

"You're the one consuming me ear-first."

"I could start elsewhere-"

Sataro kissed her. Vekna's hands at Sataro's back shook just a little so that, when she pushed, the monolith of a woman went down easily to sit on the mattresses below. Sataro followed her, dropping into her lap and her waiting arms.

"Luuchik," Sataro burred, arching to make space at her still-tied waist as Vekna gripped her tighter, "Finish your work, and tell me what happened."

The command was fruitful. Vekna returned to her methodical untying.

There was a quiet between them as they waited for Vekna's 'sunbeam' petname to stop choking her at it's invocation. But, eventually, she began in a croak;

"… She wanted to parade you through the plaza."

Sataro was still and quiet.

"Just take you, as you were, up the city. Set you there, like any other monument. She would not stop calling you her 'martyr-daughter'. It started the moment she returned to the rubble, I only ever saw her weep about it in front of someone important."

Her words were burning and she looked to the side with a bitter, gritted laugh that left Sataro cold.

"I had to- we spent days in the district court just to keep you from her scheming hands."

"Gnestat?"

"Mm, and Yurtar too."

This was a surprise, to which Vekna only nodded a confirmation. "Yes, even Yurtar. It was their words that got you sent to the monastery, in the end. My protests were nothing in comparison."

"Did they say why?"

"Something foolish about, 'whatever you were, you did not deserve to be a toy'. But they still did not visit you after the fact."

"I never expected it."

"You should have."

"Their convictions were noble."

"As noble as they were flaccid."

"Vekna."

"What was ignoring you ever going to do, hm? Force the Titah to strip the 'Marshal' title from a statue, all because a cross-dressing seditionist sibling disapproved?"

Sataro butted their heads together, "You were a cross-dressing seditionist."

"I had more backbone about it."

"Are we still having this fight even after they are so long dead?"

Vekna gave a deep, long sigh, and a sudden aching weariness seemed to come over her. Sataro felt, perhaps for the first time since their reunion, that this was something new in her wife she had never seen before. She held her tighter on instinct, her severe shape somehow still finding it's perfect fit around Vekna's full curves. In silence, Vekna pulled out the last knot, letting the scarf lie still and loose about Sataro's waist.

"They did not deserve you," she croaked, "None of them did, but their kin-rights were paramount in the end."

Ah.

Vekna looked down at the gold fabric in her hands. "The binding was literally set in stone, and still no one's claim of you was in doubt but mine."

Sataro made an animal sound, "Our vows were recorded in that court, did that not-.."

"What worth are a pagan barbarian's promises?" Vekna grinned through gritted teeth.

It was a look so hateful that some cautious reign about Sataro's heart snapped and steel wrapped her spine. Perhaps she needed to break something, what was a little brutality between them, after all? Sataro had always known what to do.

She wound her fingers into Vekna's long locks of greying red hair and pulled her gaze back, like it was hers to take. (And wasn't that true?) It wiped the awful grin from Vekna's face at least.

"Take it off," she ordered and Vekna, unblinking and transfixed, obligingly pulled the scarf away from Sataro's narrow waist and set it aside.

"The records are gone and no one alive remembers what that scrap of cloth means," this did hurt, it hurt them both, but Sataro drew Vekna's hands back around her as she continued, "but we are still here."

Vekna listened, and Sataro kept going.

"You conquered my death, and then you conquered time, no claim over me has won more of a right than yours. It outlasted empires and all meanings but ours."

In the stillness after, Sataro still worried for the three hundred years of a Vekna she had not known. There were new lines she could not see, new borders that might consider her trespasser, a distance of time that might prove so wide she'd lose her in it. She felt more a coward now than ever before in her already long life, but still, she had learned how to face a fear at some point in that time, she would still reach across the distance anyway.

And, apparently, Vekna had love in her for a new, ravenous, weary coward too. The words had lit a fire and slowly Vekna's eyes began burning a dangerous red and her breath against Sataro's mouth grew supernaturally hot as a touch of the old world's divinity purred in approval. Her smile returned, vile and hungry, but Sataro liked this one much better.

"That is true, isn't it." Vekna affirmed with a lion's satisfaction.

"Mhm," Sataro sighed, slumping back into Vekna's hold and giving into weariness once more, "and I hope I am a worthy prize for the effort. I am far more battered than before."

"Worth doing it all again," was snarled into her ear.

"Even worth my mother?"

Vekna gripped Sataro's jaw and she went limp into it, "No more talk about your mother, besides the crone died barely ten seasons afterwards."

"She did? H-"

Vekna slid her free, still burning hand under Sataro's remaining loose tunic and pressed into the skin of her back, making her hiss pleasantly.

"No more about your mother."

Sataro obeyed and chuckled fondly as Vekna so easily hefted her and rolled them both into their makeshift bed, undoing the past year of experience that had begun to make Sataro feel big and heavy.

Vekna kissed her this time, which felt new in some ephemeral way, and let her full body press Sataro into their makeshift mattress that barely softened the hard stone floor. Tension left the both of them, even softening Sataro's thin ligaments and tight chords as the weight of Vekna's breast pulled creases into her shirt and came to rest against Sataro's sternum. Their legs tangled, Sataro found the crease of Vekna's hip with her fingers and they both sighed.

"I still have more to dig out of you." Sataro murmured, as warning.

"So do I." Vekna promised in kind.

#text post #my writing #sataro

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jasontoddiefor · 1 year

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okay so, i realize that's probably not your current fandom, but i'm (once again) in a pjo content binge and i when i checked your pjo tags (Trading Tomorrow fan here) the first post was "no mist au". Which sounds really, really awesome. would you be willing to share some ideas about it or something?

I am always willing to talk about my AUs!!! And I'm glad you like Trading Tomorrow! That fic is still very dear to me!

Right, as the name says, the "no mist AU" is essentially an AU where the mist ceases existing when Percy is still like toddler age and the world is thrown into chaos. We end in some sorta post apocalyptic state where we see the return of the old worship mixed with new ways because demigods are still pretty much the only ones who can kill monsters. But now, well, normal people are praying to the gods as well again.

Some plot points include

Sally taking Percy and running and establishing herself as a person who knows what's up, and more than that, has a kid. She ends running a city alongside the coast as Poseidon's priestess.

The Roman Empire makes a return. Ne Rome adapts quickly to these new circumstances and they do it really well, expanding territory. Thalia and Jason both grow up in New Rome!

On that note, there is kind of a constant power struggle going on between various territories and gods and Kronos is also Awake And Having Some Thoughts

Camp Halfblood is the other big player. I'm not sure which name it'll get but it'll definitely will be renamed. I like New Alexandria (as opposed to New Athen as I've seen in a couple fics) because of Alexander the Great kicking off the Hellenism (just bear with this phrasing I know that's not how history works) and PJO seeming to rely more on late stages of ancient greek history.

But here are plenty of other bigger settlements with their own leader, goals and protections. Though being a demigod guarantees having kind of a higher status in society and people that are/would have been born clear-sighted have a sort of sense for when monsters are near, opposed to normal people.

But yeah, mostly this is post apocalypse meets ancient greek civilization?

And Sally doing everything she can to keep her kid safe and being very badass in turn.

Uuuh take a snippet?

Sally had devoured entire volumes about Greek mythology and the gods’ worship during her pregnancy. She’d never breathed a word of it to Percy, choosing ignorance as protection, but in their changed world, her knowledge needn’t be summoned. It was already there.

“Does anyone have sweets on them or alcohol?” Sally asked.

The people in her group only stared at her in confusion, some even in mistrust.

“It’s important.”

“What are you doing?”

“Prayer,” Sally said. She hadn’t ever been religious, meeting Poseidon hadn’t changed that. But could this really still be religion if she knew it to be truth?

Sally tossed the chocolate bar and the vodka from the flask into the fire.

“To our Lord Poseidon, for protection and safety of this commune.”

Actually take two snippets:

Leo does not like to admit that they might be in trouble, but he’s so nervous he can’t think of a weapon to aid him, never mind focus on making any fire. He glances to the right where Bryce’s body was already cooling, and nearly threw up. The scorpion’s sting had ripped right through his stomach, leaving behind an ugly, revolting wound. Luke is still holding onto his sword, but he can’t even stand properly, never mind fight.

The realization that they are utterly fucked hits like a brick to the face.

He’s survived the end of the world, myth becoming reality and this is what kills him: a regular patrol in an area that should be free of monsters. Leo hadn’t even been scheduled to go on this patrol, only volunteered at the last minute. He’d hoped to impress Luke, maybe see if he could secure permission to move outside the safe perimeters to get more parts to work with.

How stupid, not even their base is truly safe.

With an ugly roar, the scorpion turns around, aiming straight for Leo. Behind it, Luke struggles to get on his feet.

That’s it, Leo’s done for.

He tries to smile so Luke won’t blame himself and maybe do the smart thing and get away. Optimistic last thoughts so that Leo can rest peacefully in the underworld, having died a hero’s death. Phrased like this, dying doesn’t even sound that horrible.

The thought does not make the scorpion look any less terrifying and just when Leo decided to scream, he is cut off.

“Hold this for me.”

Instinctually, Leo holds out his arms and a bag gets dropped into them. The bag is warm and soft and has bright green eyes and oh, gods, that’s a baby.

Leo looks up and there’s a blur of black and blue standing in front of him. His brain is a bit slow on the upkeep, still reeling with the realization that he is holding a baby, and in the seconds it takes him to realize a stranger had come to their aid, the man has already drawn his blade. It’s made from pure celestial bronze, which is enough to make Leo’s jaw go slack. He’s only seen pure celestial bronze or imperial gold only a handful of times. The metals are incredibly scarce and Leo wants to touch that sword right now.

But he can’t.

Because he’s holding a baby and the sword is in its wielder’s hand, who is using it to systematically decimate the scorpion without ever breaking a sweat.

The monster surges up on more time, and the man simply adjust his hold on the sword and drops low, piercing the beast from below.

And just like that, it’s over and the clearing is silent.

#percy jackson #leo valdez #sally jackson #luke castellan #pjo #no mist au #fanfic #ask #anon

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tenitchyfingers · 11 months

Text

Did I just construct an entire fan theory about how Chip from Serial Mom is Stu Macher? You better fucking believe I just did. And it actually does make sense (to me anyway, but i’m high on weekend relief so idk I think it fits).

Like hear me out- Serial Mom doesn’t really have a time setting but it was released in 1994 and the story takes place in Baltimore, Maryland while Scream is set in 1996 in California. Matthew Lillard plays Chip in Serial Mom and Stu in Scream, right? Well, that’s not the only thing the two characters have in common. First off, both are weirdly insensitive and kinda cruel although Stu is more extreme in this sense, and both are horror super fans (and Chip works at a video store which like, hello Randy??) and both love gore and morbid shit (ok but same thing). Also, both are weirdly into the idea of murder, and while Chip looks kinda flabbergasted by the idea of murder he’s also kinda really excited by the idea of it. He’s also kinda detached by how horrific the murders his mother committed are, although most other characters in the movie ARE properly horrified. He doesn’t turn against her, and let’s say he’s the most ride or die member of her family like, he’s probably his mom’s biggest fan right from the moment he hears she’s suspected of murder.

His mom is also VERY flamboyant and over the top, just like Stu is in Scream. And both have a weird relationship with the idea of rules, both really strict and really lax.

So anyway, he witnesses his mom get away with SIX murders with just as many witnesses, during trial (let’s give them leeway on how the trial goes, although I have heard of enough cases where murderers got away with it or justice wasn’t served based on bullshit loopholes and nonsense even though there was plenty of evidence right there and I don’t need to suspend disbelief too much, especially considering how closely the whole media worshiping angle mirrors the OJ trial and how part of it does sound like the Casey Anthony trial) so he’s like “I could do that too”, right? Beverly (mom) could get away with 6 murders, so wiggling out of more murder accusations is gonna be easy peasy (although she’s bold for murdering another person RIGHT after her trial, right outside the court she just came out of) and here’s how it goes: the poor dad, Eugene, is kinda stuck with a serial killer wife and two crazy kids who don’t see how bad what she did is, so he just decides to move everyone out of Maryland and try to lay low in a small town in California (where death penalty is still a possibility and Beverly LOVES that her husband is even thinking he could get away from her like it’s FUN

So they move to Cali and change names because the Serial Mom case was pretty big, they all change their looks and personas (which is how Chip, who now goes by Stu, is so good at mingling with other people by the time ‘96 rolls in whereas Misty, now called Leslie, does manage laying low and doesn’t really commit crimes and once she finds out Stu is the killer she completely breaks contact with him, but she won’t tell anyone cause that kinda opens a whole can of worms and she doesn’t want to (her whole moral system was pretty much fucked the moment she realized her mom was a serial killer).

So anyway, in Woodsboro Stu meets Billy, and he immediately sees this kid is not like all the others, and once he hears Billy’s mother left, given how Stu loves and admires HIS mother, he’s like, fuck yeah let’s do this because god i’d be a wreck too, thank fuck my mom is still around. And when Billy reveals his mother leaving is due to Sidney’s mother he’s surprised, but he’s even more sympathetic, like wow this kid has it really bad. So, here’s an alternative, homebrew motive for Stu, because yeah he’s way too insane from the start to think his “pressure” motive is anything but an excuse.

And then this theory kinda offers an alternative explanation to the ‘my mom and dad are gonna be so mad at me’ line (other than it was ad-libbed YEA I KNOW) aka dad is gonna be mad because holy shit why can’t I have a normal family, now I’ll have to move everyone again and it’s your fault Chip, and mom is gonna be mad because I got away with six murders with plenty of witnesses, I AM DISAPPOINT CHIP (and he doesn’t wanna disappoint mom!!! 😢)

This also sneaks right into the Stu Lives theory because that is THEIR house, and since it’s THEIR house and they have lots of money mostly due to dad being a successful dentist (hehehe Little Shop of Horrors) and mom knowing enough about the ins and outs and gossips around the Westboro police, they manage getting Stu’s alive body discreetly switches out for someone else’s and fake his murder.

And hey, he might move with his family somewhere close to Maryland now and go back to his previous identity now, since he’s innocent of any wrong doing when he’s Chip Sutphin.

#serial mom #scream 1996 #matthew lillard #SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN SCREAM DOESN’T GIVE ME MORE STU CONTENT #I MAKE UP MY OWN FUCK YOU LMAO #this is how I cope with having so many loose ends on Scream #if the people at Paramount want me to stop they’ll HAVE to bring Stu back MY STUPIDITY HAS POWER #THIS IS A THREAT #no ok but I spent half of this movie (which is admittedly not very good and nowhere as good as Scream) thinking of this whole thing #and admittedly at this point I’m used to explaining things with crossovers which is why the multiverse is right up my alley #seriously though Chip DOES show signs of insanity that closely resembles his attitude at the start of Scream #like the whole not giving a shit about victims of murder thing #which admittedly makes him fit right in with all the other kids #let’s say most kids in Woodsboro are not doing okay in that movie lol #this is probably the longest I’ve ever rambled about something I completely made up in a long time #but hey this is my canon now since Scream doesn’t really give us much about Stu’s past #I HAVE MADE UP MY OWN #that’s what fandom is for #does this make sense? I DON’T CARE

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ahungeringknife · 6 months

Text

365: May 25

I don't like that Mithrax is just Ambiguously Old As Shit so in Entropy he's younger. Like born before the Reef War but well after the true Dark Ages of humanity. That still gives him plenty of centuries to Fuck Around and Find Out but it takes him out of the 'old as dirt' category I grow bored of with all our face NPCs in the game. Hence why Viksis looks at him like 'this fucking kid wtf???'

----

Viksis was horrified the first time he met House Light's prime servitor. If you could even call it a Prime. It's metal flesh had been ripped off or never properly put on its body and its eye couldn't focus. Couldn't still. It jittered across the faces of the Eliksni who worked on it. Mechanical minded and doing their best. "Shit," Frytkis muttered next to him at seeing it. Viksis couldn't move. He could hear the low groaning of the servitor and the pained sounds it made. It wasn't... it wasn't alive. A half living thing. A mockery of the Prime Servitor back aboard the Lucent Dawn that effortlessly supplied all the ether for the entire fleet. So much ether they traded it to pirate crews for supplies or scavenge.

He looked up at Misraakskel who was standing next to him. "What is this?" he asked the Kell softly.

"Part of the duties of a sacred splicer are to oversee and maintain the health of the House's servitors. The others aren't ready for something like this," Misraakskel said gravely.

"It's dying," Viksis said.

"No," Misraakskel said firmly.

"You're right, sorry. It's not dying, it wants to be dead," and he looked at the servitor in horror. For a machine worshiper like Viksis this was akin to seeing your god flayed alive and crucified across the sands of Earth's hottest deserts.

Misraakskel looked at him sharply. "No it doesn't. It is living."

"That isn't living, Misraakskel," he said pointing. "It's barely even alive. Do you not hear its moans of pain for death?"

Msiraakskel looked down at Viksis and he could feel the scrutiny. Viksis looked back. "You can understand it?"

"You can't?" Viksis asked right back. "Isn't that was a splicer does? Tend to and understand machines?"

"Among other things," Misraakskel said gravely.

"It's salvageable," Frytkis said next to Viksis. "Any of these people have any actual engineering skills? Or are they all mechanics?" he asked Misraakskel.

"Mechanics," Misraakskel said.

"Ah. They'll kill it on their own then," they folded his lower set of arms. "Watched some mechanics in the outfit almost do that a few times when one of our servitors got sick before an engineer was called." Or Viksis. Frytkis knew well enough not to talk about that.

"Don't be so sure," Misraakskel said.

Frytkis gave Misraakskel the same look he'd give Preksik when the Baron would say something ignorant. Borderline disdain. "I'm older than you. I am sure." Then he looked at Viksis. "What's the call?"

"I can't let it keep 'living' in pain," Viksis said and finally the soft groaning and mechanical noises got to him. He walked away from them up to the suspended servitor. It's eye went to him, jittering and shaking, unable to focus. An Eliksni came over with a rivet gun to do something. "Stop," he put a hand on their arm.

"Huh?" they looked at him in confusion.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Attach some of the outer plating?"

"No. It doesn't need skin when the flesh is so damaged. Put that down."

The Eliksni looked back at Misraakskel and Viksis knew he'd nodded because they left with the power tool. Viksis stepped right up to the servitor so even with its shaking pupil it could see him. "Do you have a name?" he asked it softly.

<<N/a>>

"Are you in pain?"

<<Y>>

"Where is the pain?"

<<Everywhere>>

Viksis raised all his hands to hold the optic of the great servitor, relieving some of the strain the optic had on its body. "Is that better?"

<<Y>>

"One of you," he barked at a mechanic staring wide eyed at him, "Come here and hold the optic."

They skittered over and Viksis had him hold the eye in all hands to relieve pressure on the frame. Viksis hummed softly to himself, finding the same frequency that the servitor resonated in, and put two hands on the metal behind the eye. From his chest little Ivo was humming along with him and he could feel her quiet hum in his chest. The resonance led his hands along the metal seems and through a horribly wired chassis until he found a pain point. It was a wrongly plugged tube. He deftly unscrewed the wing nut on the clamp holding the tube to the input. The tube itself was only about as wide as his finger. Ether immediately began pouring from the tube. The Eliksni around started to panic.

Someone touched him as if to pull him away but when Viksis looked it was only in time to watch Frytkis punch them. "Stand down. He's fixing your fuck up," they snarled at the now frantically nervous mechanics.

He followed the tube to its output deeper into the servitor. He had to hoist himself up and into the would be god. His lower hands shifted Ivo around as he crawled inside and invariably was twisted up inside the servitor. Ivo hummed the resonance the entire time helping him find the pain point and the incorrect output port.

"Frytkis, I need pliers," he called from inside the moaning servitor as gaseous ether was still filling the room.

"What size?" Frytkis asked.

"Halves," which wasn't a size but Frytkis knew immediately. They were handed over. "And a similarly sized ratchet wrench. Hexagonal." That was also handed over, Frytkis nearly half way into the servitor themself.

"How bad is it in here?" Frytkis asked looking around.

"Bad," was all Viksis said using the pliers to turn the wing nut he couldn't reach because his hand was too big. The clamp and tube came free and he handed it to Frytkis. Frytkis took it and vacated the servitor.

Viksis grabbed a piece of metal tubing that went... nowhere (idiots) and used the wrench to loosen it enough to turn the entire piece of tubing. "I need a metal clamping ring, about five radials," he called out. He let Frytkis have a moment to find the part. "Is that better?" he asked the half alive servitor softly.

<<Y>>

"Does it all still hurt?"

<<Y>>

"This will stop some."

<<TY>>

A different Eliksni appeared through the gap and had the metal clamp. He could hear Frytkis taking control of the mechanics and bossing everyone around. Great. He took the metal ring and fit it around the metal pipe before joining the pipe to the outflow. He used the wrench to tighten it. He'd rather weld those pieces together but that was impossible without a micro welder.

Almost as soon as the pipe was connected the entire servitor shifted. Viksis moved as the servitor did, holding Ivo to his chest. The entire thing heaved and then sighed as it moved pieces and parts of itself.

<<Pain//: Reduced>>

"Good," Viksis said and then started crawling out of the servitor.

He stood on the ground but no one noticed him. Frytkis was busy ordering everything into some sort of reasonable work place. Things being properly organized. Mechanics bossed around. Things being put where they needed to go. He looked over feeling Misraakskel looking at him with a slight tilt of his head. He walked over to him.

"You healed the servitor," Misraakskel said.

"No. I allowed it to be in less pain," Viksis said.

"How did you do that?"

Viksis made a confused look. "That is what I'm supposed to do. Did you not hear it?"

Misraakskel looked at Viksis curiously. "Your splicing abilities are different than mine," he said after a moment. "Your old crew say you are a Splicer but you cannot see the weft or warp of reality. And yet you went right into the body of a Prime Servitor and began to heal it in a way I have never seen."

"I can't stand seeing them in pain."

"An admirable trait," Misraakskel agreed.

"So what does this mean for you helping me?"

"Your training with me will continue, yes," Misraakskel nodded. "But I see your abilities lie with the process of our servitors. We will hone your abilities as we repair and prepare our House's Prime Servitor."

"It's not alive, Misraaks," he said.

"But it is not dead," the Kell said back.

Viksis sighed. "Very well. If that is what you think will be best for me learning to use my Splicer abilities." Even if Misraakskel didn't seem to be able to do what he could do.

"I do. And while you learn to use your abilities it will be used to benefit the House. A worthy cause for any member."

Viksis' eyes narrowed. "Just to remind you; I am not House Light," he said quietly. "Once my training is done I will return to my Outfit and family."

"And we will miss your abilities. But it is not of the Light to tether someone where they do not wish to be," Misraakskel said and sometimes Viksis really did wonder if this guy believed his own bullshit. He had to, right? "For now stay here and assist the mechanics in getting our Prime working. When you return to the quarter we will work on the other parts of being a Sacred Splicer."

Viksis nodded slowly. But now he wasn't sure what this kid could show him he didn't already do? Other than adjusting the weave of reality, which Viksis was suspicious of that. Best not to argue about it. He turned and went to go be with Frytkis to organize their mechanics.

#365 #writeblr #writblr #fanfiction #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #Eliksni #mithrax #misraaks #original eliksni #Viksis

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