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mina-saiyat · 1 month

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Twice Interactive Story Part 1216 Sunset (Nayeon)

The sunlight shining through the window, covering 2 naked bodies on the bed. The brightness awakened Nayeon from her sweet dream.

'Hum...' Nayeon frowns, adjusting herself in your arm without opening her eyes.

'Anything planned for today?' You look at the beauty sleeping on your chest, you have awoken several minutes ago, although the fierce sex last night drained both of you, the feeling of getting Nayeon back makes you feeling so hyper, so you can't really sleep.

'No... let me sleep...' Nayeon, using your shoulder as her pillow whispers, and getting to sleep again.

You move your hand down Nayeon's back and squeeze her ass. "I can't do anything about the sun, but I can make you feel good." You grab one of Nayeon's thighs and bring it over your body, making her straddle you.

You are really drained that your morning boner is not strong as usual, however, when you put Nayeon's thigh over you, the smooth sensation of her thigh touching your cock makes you get hard immediately, poor Nayeon has no idea she has woke up the monster, still sleeping peacefully.

"I guess I'll have to wake you up," You say as you slip your cock inside Nayeon. You pull her onto it, making every inch go inside her warm cunt. "Are you going to wake up yet? Or do I need to do more?" You ask her as you lightly tap her ass.

'Ummm... let me sleep. It's still so early.' Nayeon opened her eyes to check the clock and close them immediately again.

Despite your move starting to be more fiercely, Nayeon just hums lightly, allowing you to act as you like. You pull Nayeon into spooning and thrust you hips quickly. 'Baby, you are so tight...' You keep kissing the back of her neck, occasionally planting on her.

Nayeon's mind seems to be messy as she is still sleeping, she does not even know you are not using a condom, what if you breed her right now? You keep asking yourself while fucking. Nayeon may leave you again if she knows more about Mina but breeding her can ensure Nayeon won't leave you again, this idea takes over your mind quickly. Your cock is even harder, your breath becomes quicker, all you want right now is give her a fucking child.

Nayeon can feel your cock is getting harder, she cannot resist the heat and start moaning slowly, driving you crazy. 'Ummm... why it is so hot suddenly...'

"We ran out of condoms twice last night." You moan, thrusting into her. You kiss Nayeon's neck and spank her once. "We're doing it raw, and I'm getting close to cumming." You steal a kiss from Nayeon keeping her quiet as you speed up your thrusts and hit her g spot repeatedly. Her arms wrap around your head as her moans grow louder.

‘Ahhh!’ Nayeon cums on your cock real quick as you keep hitting on her g spot, the juice that splash on your cock pushes you over the edge. ‘Nayeon! Have my baby!’ You roar like a beast, pulling her shaking body to you, allows you go deeper in her, you could feel her womb is open, and you are keep pouring your semen in her.

The idea of breeding Nayeon already makes you leave a huge amount of cum in her, but her walls are milking you so hard, nearly drained you. Nayeon’s hips keep shaking from the intense orgasm, once again her pussy is filled by your cum, a satisfied shown on her face. ‘Umm… So full… So warm, Y/N.’ However, the warm liquid inside her seems to finally wake her up. ‘Umm… wait, you do it inside?’ Nayeon looks at you with a shocked face, and tries to push you away.

As your cock withdraw from her, the cum starts to drip out from her clit, Nayeon still can’t believe you just creampied her, she opens her clits, but more cum are dripping out immediately. Your cock starts to erect again from this horny site.

‘Why! I told you I am not safe…’ Nayeon looks at you nervously, she inserts her fingers in her pussy, trying to get the cum out of her. Looking Nayeon being so reluctant to have your baby, it’s like something hitting your heart, you don’t know how to describe this feeling.

However, today seems to be a bad day for you. Everything goes against your wish. Nayeon feels she is acting too cold. She quietly leaves the room, trying to comfort you.

'What are you doing at Dahyun's room?' Nayeon's call catch you off guard, you turn around, and Nayeon looks at the pill in your hands with disbelief.

'Wait... Why would you know there are pills in Dahyun's room?' Nayeon covers her mouth with her hands. Her voice is so shocked. 'Are you guys... Y/N, she is your sister!'

"My stepsister and it's what she wanted." You reply as you hand Nayeon the pills. "Then we got into a fight, and that's why she's not here. Things happened while you were gone, Nayeon."

Nayeon, take the pills and turns around immediately. The information she received is too much for her to handle. Nayeon struggles to walk back to your room, covering her head as her head is in pain.

You slowly following her, not wanting to ignite her again. She is just laying on the bed and using the blanket to cover her whole body. Despite you calling her name, Nayeon doesn't give you any response.

Deciding to give her a little space, You sigh and pat Nayeon's leg, "I'll go make you breakfast." You head into the kitchen, preparing the meal. You think about how to talk about the subject. In the end, deciding to write down how things happened so you wouldn't miss a detail and telling Nayeon about Chaeyoung as well.

'The breakfast is ready.' You knock on the door, the doors open soon, and Nayeon is wearing your white shirt. It becomes oversized when Nayeon is wearing. It barely covers half of her ass, her pink nipples are looming as she walks. The look is so teasing that you forgot she is still mad at you.

'You really can't control your cock, huh?' Nayeon grabs your cock in her hand, caressing slowly, and suddenly pinch it hardly. The pain forced you to moan, you nearly kneel down. 'I am going to take a shower first.' Nayeon walks to the shower like nothing has happened.

"Alright, I wait in the kitchen, but be quick." You yell, so she hears you before waiting for her to come back out. You start going through my phone as you wait for her.

You first call Chaeyoung, telling her you may not be able to go back to hometown, as you need more time to fix Nayeon. 'Really, Oppa? You are going to tell Nayeon eooni about us? Ugh...' Chaeyoung's dry vomit is quite loud, but you are not paying attention to it. 'Yeah, she knows about Dahyun, so I think it's better to tell her everything, she may need time to accept it.'

'Ugh...' Chaeyoung seems to be vomiting again. 'Sorry, Oppa. I am not feeling so well. Let's talk when you get back.'

"You don't sound too good. Don't push yourself too hard, Chae. I'll swing by to check on you, okay?" You say slightly concerned at Chaeyoung throwing up. "I hope you didn't eat something bad."

'I am just eating too much junk good at dorm, I am fine... Ugh...' Chaeyoung ends the call before you could ask again. You try to call back, but Nayeon has just come out, so you put down the phone and look at her.

You feel a bit nervous about telling her the truth. You hand her the notes and look straight to her eyes. 'I want to tell you everything, Nayeon. Please read it, I will explain everything to you.

'What am I supposed to do?' Nayeon whispers. 'You and Chae started even earlier than us. You lied to me since our first day.' Tears start dropping from her eyes. 'Why? Why, every time I wanted to forgive you, you were telling me you have more lies hiding from me?' Nayeon's hands are so shaken that even the notes drop on the table.

"Because I want to be completely honest with you now, Nayeon." You say, looking at her. "Ask any question, and I'll tell you the answer. I just want to be honest with you now. I know it hurts, but this is the only way."

'Why are you lying from the all the way back to the beginning, you know I love you, I love you so much.' Nayeon wipes her tears away. 'You keep fucking other girls since we date, it's not just a single mistake anymore.'

"I know." You tell Nayeon, "and I love you. Sex isn't the same thing. I loved spending time with you. I loved every moment we were together, not just sex."

'So you mean all other woman you fuck are just because of sex, everyone huh?' Nayeon smirks with disdain. 'Then kick everyone out of here and let me be your only one again. Perhaps I would forgive you for cheating.'

"That's not what I said. Besides, it wouldn't be that easy, Nayeon. Remember, this is Jihyo's house too. She'll probably be coming back today, considering you only asked for one day together." You take a deep breath and get close to Nayeon, holding her wrists. "Look, Nayeon. I know I haven't been faithful, but I want to try again. That's why I'm being honest with you."

'I have had enough' Nayeon whispers in your arms. 'I have thought many ways to end the date, but I didn't expect you are telling me that you have even more girls, and they start before my are being together.' Tears keep dropping from Nayeon's eyes, dripping on your clothes. 'Did you ever think about me. If you really love me, you won't even have sex with any one of them?'

'I wanna go home now, I am not going to disturb you and Jihyo.' Nayeon wipes her tears again and tries to push you away.

You press Nayeon into your chest, holding her tightly. "Nayeon, I do love you. That's why I needed to tell you. I thought about you and knew this would hurt you, but I needed to do it so we could have a clean start. A real start again." You kiss the top of Nayeon's head as you rub her back.

'Why don't you think about me before you put in?' Nayeon closes her eyes, crying even loudly. 'Am I a joke to you? You just want to collect as many as girl you can, so you want us back together, but I do love you.'

'How can I face Dahyun and Chaeyoung in the future? Pretend nothing ever happened and just be a good sister-in-law? I can't pretend nothing has happened.'

"I'm not asking you to do that, Nayeon." You say, holding her tightly. "You have to believe me when I say I love you. I wouldn't have kept you in my memories otherwise." You pat her head softly, "What can I do to make it up to you?"

'You could have told me before last night, you are just convincing me to accept everything so you can enjoy a harem.' Nayeon smirks. 'But, no. I am IM Nayeon, I won't accept it.'

'I need you to promise me you won't fuck your sisters anymore, and I don't wanna see anymore new girls, me, Momo, Jihyo and that two Japanese sluts is the limit. If you fuck just one more girl, we are over. I swear.' Nayeon not giving you a chance to consider and push you away, but your arms already tightened, forcing her to keep hugged by you.

'I said let me go, drive me back to my home or else I will leave by myself.'

'Seeing my eyes are red, Jeongyeon must know I am meeting you again, only you are going to make me cry like this.' Nayeon pouts.

'You afraid she will jealous?' You smirk. 'Well, I can have many ways to let her know you are mine.' You hug Nayeon again and start planting hickeys again on her neck. Your hands sneak in her shirt, caressing her body. You have been controlling yourself for too long since she is in your shirt: her nipple under the shirt is easily to be seen when she has big movements, the contrast between the white shirt and her legs, the half-covered ass cheek, everything is testing your limits, and you fail.

'Yah, I have just finished shower... Mumm...' Nayeon tries to protest, but soon she is shutted up by your lips.

Nayeon hammers your chest weakly, but it is not affecting your invasion. You carry her and moving to your bedroom, you keep spanking her ass until you can hear her moan. 'Are you going to tease me so you wear my shirt? Are you jealous of them? But you are different, Nayeon. I can't resist anything of you, and I will let you know.'

'Ummm... we are out of condom...' Nayeon trying to catch her breath, but you didn't give her a chance, you bury your head in her tits, forcing she moans again.

"Don't worry about that, Nayeon." You moan as You slide your cock between her folds. "I don't need to be inside you for you to make me cum." Your cock rubs against her clit occasionally making her moan loudly. "I'm just going to do this."

'Stop teasing me...' Nayeon moans everytime your cock rubs her clits, seeing how red her face is, you know she is enjoying, but perhaps it's not enough for her.

"It’s too bad we're out of condoms." You moan as You kiss her neck. You continue to tease Nayeon, occasionally having your cock press against her entrance before slipping back to your previous position. "What should we do?"

Nayeon bits her lips hard, and she is struggling to control herself, she closes her eyes to avoid your aggressive sight.

'Noo...' She moans lightly, you are going further than she expected, you occasionally push your tips inside, you can feel how wet she is. Whenever your foreskin strap rubs with her walls, your whole body shakes from the pleasure, it's more exciting than normal sex.

You kiss Nayeon again, "What do we do, Nayeon?" You repeat as You move one hand down her back. You turn Nayeon onto her side and get behind her. You can feel her soft ass press against your pelvis as you continue to slide your cock between her folds. "You feel so good," You groan into her ear.

‘Ummm… We can’t have baby right now…’ Nayeon whispers, but her ass is still grinding on you. ‘I have took the pills already. I don’t wanna take again immediately. Can you just fuck my thigh? Ummm…’ Nayeon’s body jerks again when your tips accidently gets in again, you are nearly out of control, you want her so bad, you want to get all in right now.

You pull out of Nayeon quickly, knowing that if you stayed inside any longer you would fuck her until you came. You start thrusting between her thighs quickly and playing with her clit. "That’s okay, Nayeon." You groan, "I'm getting close."

'Ummm... Let's cum together...' Nayeon pulls your head over, asking for a kiss. Your tongue sneak in her mouth immediately, tasting her saliva. Her moan is covered by your mouth, all her words become meaningless snort.

Feeling your cock starts throbbing again, Nayeon holds your hand that is playing her clit, rubbing even faster.

'Ummm...' You two moan again, and both of you cum, you keep thrusting your hips, all of your cum splash on her thigh and the bedsheet. You end the kiss to catch your breath, all you see is Nayeon’s red face when your lips separated.

'I love you. Please just don't hurt me anymore. I have given up a lot already.' Nayeon nearly begs you, it's first time you see she is being such submissive.

"I love you, too, Nayeon." You groan. "Do you still want to go home? Or should we shower first." you ask, lifting her up, your cock rubbing against her pelvis.

'It's because of you, I need to take the shower again.' Nayeon grumbles. 'Bring me to the bath, I really need to go.'

'I hope I can be here again soon, just you and me.' Nayeon caresses your face before giving you another kiss.

However, in such an inappropriate time, your phone starts to buzz. Nayeon catchs your phone before you react. 'That's why you are urging me to leave?' She shows you the phone, it's Momo's call.

"Do you think I know when Momo would call me?" You reply. "Just let it ring. We need this shower."

Nayeon declines the call and throws your phone on the bed. 'I said, no three person in our date. If next time it still happens, you know what I would do.' Nayeon threatens you, but gives you a kiss at the same time.

'No more sex today... Ahhh!' Nayeon tries to warn you on the way to the bath, but your slap on her ass shut her up.

"Fine, no more sex, but that doesn't mean we can't get close to it." You say as you kiss her. Inside the bath, your hands wander Nayeon's body touching and caressing every part of her.

Nayeon, totally lose the ability to resist you. Your caress makes her body go soft, every touch of you makes her fall even deeper. Eventually, her whole body is lying on yours, under your control.

'Bad boy... I said no...' Nayeon moans again when your fingers twist her erected nipples again. She can feel your hard shaft keep poking her ass. 'Damn, then I would leave nothing but two balls to Momo.' Nayeon grabs your cock in her hand, and start stroking.

The steam in the bath slowly surrounds both of you, the sound of her moan and your groan mixing together, becoming a lustful symphony, seems to be describing your desire since you two have broken up.

Once again, the soul and the body are connected, just like the good old days. Two of you are focused on each other, like you two are the only ones left on the world.

In your bedroom, the phones keep buzzing, but none of you have noticed, even you do, you won't let anyone disturb you at this moment. In the end, nothing can compare to Nayeon that is right in front of you.

#minasaiyatis #twice smut #twice imagines #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #nayeon smut

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meidnightrain · 2 months

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ALL I WANTED WAS UNWANTED ❞

summary: how does one let go of something they can’t live without?

warnings: reader is gender neutral, angst

taglist: @akutasoda, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @yvnaology

you know, what’s the problem with making a deal with the devil? no one negotiates, and he won’t take a no as an answer.

your eyes couldn’t leave the way his fingers danced across the table, the clinking of tokens ringing in your ears. it’s not the first time that you’ve been hypnotized by his peacock feathers; you would have hated yourself at some point for being so gullible and naive to land yourself here. but then again, who could ever deny AVENTURINE ? how could you refuse when your whole body and soul, every nook and cranny, belonged to him?

it was addictive, hypnotizing, alluring, and destructive. the way you clung to each other fiercely, your fingernails could leave markings on his already scarred skin. scars would heal, but the memory of pain would never fade, even with time.

“what is your choice?” he whispered in a low voice, a tone that you’d fallen victim to so many times before. his striking eyes met yours, and you could feel yourself sinking into them. the spark devoid in his eyes was more proof that you’d never come out for air, for you could never see the rays of light shining out at you as you drowned in them.

it’s clearer than that cursed stone he’s always hated carrying around—a statue of his power, heavy in his arms yet hollow inside. you can’t be together, and he can’t be with you. you deserve so much better; you deserve more than anything he could ever give you. now, he gives you a decision, he’s asking for you to let go of him.

“i know it’s selfish of me, but i want you to stay even if i don’t deserve it. i want you to love me even if i’m not worth it. i want you to tell me that we’ll be fine, even if we’re far from it. i want you to be mine even if i’m not yours.” are the words that threaten to spill from your words in a plea for you to hold him so tight that he could never break free from your embrace. to tell him that you loved him and needed him, like how the ocean needs the moon and day needs night.

doomed, you were both doomed to fall apart. a crash collision that would result in sparks flying at the impact, tearing you both apart and destroying you inside out.

sometimes, you meet the right person, but it’s at the wrong time. what if you were never supposed to fall for each other in this timeline, in this universe, and this was a fluke, a probability so small and insignificant that you would have never imagined it to occur? what if AVENTURINE was never yours to lose in the first place when you had already lost when you first kissed?

you knew that you were killing each other slowly in this gamble, that it was only a matter of time before someone folded. you dreaded when it would happen because you knew that this was the only time that you would win against him.

#🖋️- short snippets #—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail angst #hsr angst #aventurine angst

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bakerstreethound · 4 months

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A Single Touch

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ Smut, hints of soft (sub) husband Sherlock/dom Sherlock, gentle teasing, mentions of marking, tenderness, and feelings

Summary: A peaceful afternoon in 221B takes a turn when you become insistent on needing Sherlock's attention and he indulges.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, copy, repost, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 1.1k+

A/N: Hello my lovelies, I hope you are all well. I hope you enjoy this little treat for I adore Sherlock so and he deserves the love and attention even when he can be annoying. Special thank you to @strangelockd for beta reading and loving this story from its conception. She is now the official aunt of this fanfic. As always, comments and reblogs are most appreciated! Graphic by @firefly-graphics

You smile to yourself as you look around 221B, enjoying the rare peaceful afternoon on the couch, your favorite book discarded on the coffee table. Sherlock’s features are calm and relaxed and you grin despite yourself, knowing how much he hated to admit he liked this…whatever this supposed routine had become.

Your fingers ruffled gently through his curls, his breath coming steady, occasionally shuddering when you tugged harder on them to tease him. You gaze upon him fondly, watching his cheek quiver, lips pursing while he flips a page of his novel.

So that’s how it was going to be, then. You smile to yourself, for you do so love a challenge.

Carefully you tug his curls once more, earning a raised brow in return, until you reach for the book, pulling it from his grasp, not before inserting the bookmark into place; you don't have the heart to dog ear the page like a heathen.

“I was reading that,” he huffs, feigning annoyance, yet his eyes shimmer in mischief and mirth.

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it? Surely you can think of something.”

He shifts, sitting upright on the couch, watching you intently, dark fierceness flashing for a moment in his eyes. “I’ve considered no less than five options.”

You smirk at his practicality and calculating mind, and shake your head in amusement, before you climb over onto his lap, swinging a leg over to straddle a thigh. Ever so slowly, you lean into him, pressing your lips to his forehead, relishing in the faint sigh he releases.

His grip on your waist tightens as you settle yourself fully, tracing a thumb along his lower lip. You relish in the widening of his eyes, the faint twitch of his cheek, mind, and body fighting to take over whatever impulses have him in a frenzy.

You adore the push and pull and could fall into it for eons. With him, every touch, every instinct of yours screams yes for it all is right, almost too good to be true.

“Damn you.”

“Whatever for, dear boy?” You murmur not a care in the world, nuzzling his neck before grazing your tongue over a sensitive spot, relishing in the way his shoulders tense as he fights off a shiver.

He says nothing else as you continue on your merry way, smirking to yourself at his reactions, the way he gripes your waist tighter, fighting off the anticipation of your lips latching on to his neck for what feels like the hundredth time.

Even if it is the hundredth time, he wouldn’t tire of it for a moment, for it is you, and that’s all he wants.

You in every moment.

It’s what you want as well, want to show him how much you love and adore him, how you can never get enough of him. How you deserved him you wouldn't know for he is everything to you and more.

You press another kiss to his waiting lips which accept you eagerly, your hands running down his torso, and you sigh.

How was this your husband?

He softly pressed a kiss to your lips and you gracefully fell into the feel of him, wanting to adore him. Your heart ached in kind, a mixture of melancholy and longing, desperation and want. It is your form of love, all because of him.

Through the years you count him as one of your greatest blessings, but the words catch in your throat when you try to speak them aloud.

You hope he knows, surely, he does for he’s the only one who braved your tumultuous shores, the depths of your heart, and still he stayed.

He stayed unwavering and you as well through it all. Thoughts of these flood his mind, for he’s all too enraptured with your form, the way you melt into him, the way his nails dig deep into your waist. He jolts slightly at the praises that pull from your lips, a slight blush creeping along his cheeks at your words.

“You don’t….that’s not…” he struggles to voice and you offer him a smile, kissing him once more, whispering your pleas in tandem.

“Let me help you…” you sigh into him, tugging his lower lip, earning a low groan before shifting on his lap, his hands reading to your back, gripping you impossibly tighter.

“Then I should help you, darling.”

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, the teasing tone sending shivers down your spine in a delightful manner and you welcome it. You both require a reprieve and it starts with a single touch.

One of love.

One of need.

One of desire.

One of desperation.

That’s how you find yourself an hour later on your shared bed, engulfed by sheets and the delicious heat of his lips on your own, tongue trailing along your body, his deep sonorous baritone edging you on.

“I said every inch, my dear,” his voice rumbles from his throat igniting your body from the inside out, “Isn’t that right?” Your shirt slides higher up your body as inch by inch your upper body is revealed to him and Sherlock smirks, delighting in the situation.

You roll your eyes, shuddering as his hands grip you tighter, before pulling the rest of your shirt off, promptly discarding it on the floor, not a care in the world. His gaze bores into your back and you fight off a shiver to no avail.

You can feel his smirk searing to your back before he presses the gentlest kisses along your spine and you melt in kind before he sucks a mark, making you squirm.

“Not…fair…”

“Nothing about you is fair,” he growls.

You groan in kind, letting him do as he pleases, pulling you impossibly closer to him, heat radiating between you, sending you aflame. It was only a shift of the hand, a brush against his wrist, and the tension filled him to the brim like lightning before it struck.

You shudder when his finger brushes back along your body, melting, completely undone by him and his embrace. He traces the marks he made along your spine, and you bite back another whimper, causing him to whisper in your ear.

“I want to hear you make those pretty noises for me, alright?”

You swallow, knowing he’s not asking and when he kisses you heatedly, you let yourself fall into the abyss and infinite as you’re made one, relishing in the warmth, and eternal bliss you fall into every time you’re here safe in his arms.

All it takes is a single burning, aching touch.

And you fall together.

Down in the abyss where love and pleasure combine, something else you can’t quite fathom or remember, but it’s enough. All you could ever want and more; the gasped pleas from parted lips, hand entangled in those sinful curls, your bodies forever intertwined.

******

#sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes fanfic #bbc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock tv #my writing #my alleyway

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pinknipszz · 4 months

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(a/n: more pre-king of curses!sukuna x f!reader idk I think abt them a lot)

sukuna doesn’t spend much time with your baby. you think that all of this traveling would bring your little family closer together, but your husband is just too stubborn. he simply shrugs whenever you confront him about it, saying that he should stick to the heavy work while you tend to the infant’s needs. it’s odd considering that sukuna has never been a stickler for tradition, but ever since you gave birth to your little bundle of joy, he has put little to no effort into forming a bond with his own child.

it irks you a little. and one day, nearly a week into the journey, you just about had enough of his pissy attitude. “sukuna,” you cross your arms, glaring down at your lounging husband. “don’t just lay on the grass. get up and stay close to the baby while i’m gone.” sukuna’s left eye cracks open to look up and give you a once-over, before closing again. “what the hell am i supposed to do? sit next to him the entire time?” he says sarcastically with a dismissive wave. you swear to god you nearly rip your hair out. “as the father, yes.”

you count the seconds before finally, after what felt like a lifetime, sukuna pushes himself off the ground with a heavy sigh and pats down his ruffled trousers. you open your mouth with something sarcastic, but it’s stolen from you when sukuna lunges forward and sweeps you off the ground. ignoring your unladylike shriek, he peppers fierce kisses all over your nose, brows, and lids, encouraged by your stubborn whining. when you try to wriggle out of his grip, he catches your lips with a silent promise: you win, i’ll take over from here.

sukuna watches you leave the site to catch dinner. when you’re nothing more than a small speck in the distance, he scratches the back of his neck and looks down at the baby beside him, suddenly unsure of what to do. “you better be on your best behavior around me boy,” he orders, grimacing when he gurgles in response.

(masterlist)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna imagine #heian period #ryomen sukuna

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amansabastris · 1 year

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avatar headcannons:

how many kids does he want?

neteyam x reader, lo'ak x reader, ao'nung x reader (gn!)

neteyam:

the most out of any other on this list, coming in with wanting five.

in the words of quaritch- "a whole litter."

just like his sa'nu and sempu, neteyam wants a big family, full of little ones.

lo'ak:

loves every single second of fatherhood.

whittles toys for his little ones, especially ones he remembers he or his siblings playing with growing up.

little wooden ikran, toruk, 'angtsìk- and ilu and tulkun, too.

can hold at least four of his kids at a time. one on each hip, baby in the sling on his front, and a toddler in the wrap on his back. worried he'll drop one if he tries all five.

five kids can be overwhelming, of course, but he'll never raise his voice at them- if he really needs to yell, he leaves the kelku for a minute to let out his frustration.

insists on braiding their hair himself. he loves to do it.

makes him feel more connected to his little one, twisting and braiding their hair as gently and carefully as he can.

most parents hate their kids crawling into bed with them. with all the limbs kicking and pressing into you all night, who can blame them?

but neteyam can barely sleep without an uncomfortable leg pressing into his back, anymore. it's how he knows all his little ones are here, all safe.

contrary to the some of the other headcannons i've seen on this site, i believe lo'ak would only like two children.

ao'nung:

he just wants a small, loving little family.

he decided on two for a reason, too.

lo'ak would have been perfectly fine with just one, but then he thought about it more.

lo'ak grew up with four others- his siblings, his best friends.

he wanted that for his little, too.

becomes so calm, so easy-going and soft around his children.

lo'ak can obviously be reckless- but when he's with his babies, he's calm. his focus is only on them.

his favorite part of fatherhood is play time. any game his kids want to play, he wants to play with them.

they want to pretend they're riding an ikran? climb on! they want to play in the water? look out, daddy's splashing!

always makes sure both of them are included in the game, too.

no one will be outcast in this family.

he honestly doesn't think about things like that. he would take a moment to think about it, deciding on three at the most.

it seems like a good number to him.

it's the number of kids his parents had, too, so that might be why he's so comfortable with it.

he definitely thinks four would be too many, but three? it just sounds perfect.

he's one of those dads that pretends to be all tough around others, but behind closed doors- he's absolutely melted.

bonus!

this man spoils them. and i mean that.

ao'nung is a fierce leader- strong and proud.

but if his little one were to tug on his clothes and ask for something? it's over. he's crumbled, gone, off to spoil his baby and give them anything they want.

i'm talking dessert before dinner, letting them stay up late playing, anything their little hearts desire.

also... he'd have all girls. he never specifically wanted a boy or girl, and obviously its not something you choose, but something about his genes, man. i'm telling you: three little daddy's girls.

spider:

one.

spider doesn't think he'd be a good father.

but there's still this want pushed to the back of his head- to one day have a baby of his own.

spider thinks he'd be a horrible father.

in reality, if spider ever ended up with a little one...

they'd be the most loved baby on that moon.

probably wouldn't put them down their whole infancy, preferring to have them curled up against his chest at all times.

he wouldn't spoil them- he's raise his little one to be independent, strong, their own person.

but he would also show them that they were loved unconditionally.

that no matter what- their father would always love them. always.

©️ copyright yourlavenderlover, 2023

do not copy/paste, claim as your own, post on different sites, or translate without prior consent from me

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fuzziemutt · 9 months

Text

On the views of Rio in relation to Miguel within fandom

There's something I'm commonly seeing that has been worrying me which is the depictions of Rio "latina mom-ing" Miguel.

This includes Rio:

- slapping him

- coming at him with "the chancla"

- "dressing him down" verbally or yelling

- humiliating him

- straight up just... Beating him up

And I'm bringing this up because guys... This shit be low-key racist. I know racism towards latines has already been a problem (Yes. I am gesturing to the everything that is how Miguel is treated within the fandom), but I personally wanted to bring up this issue as well as I'm unsure if others have talked about it- and we all know how suck ass searching anything on this site is.

Anyways, I won't lie. I don't know how many latines are making these jokes, but it being so prevalent being her "main" interactions makes me feel even if it started as a latine joke, it sure as hell didn't stay that way.

But the depiction of Latina women as fierce, aggressive and (yes it is) straight up physically abusive (in general words) is a major fucking Problem. Latinas are often depicted in media as these "feisty exotic women" who takes no shit. Perpetuating that with Rio does not feel as #girl power as you guys might think. It feels like a step back in treating latinas not as these power houses but as... Y'know... People who aren't depicted as aggressors 24/7....

But also I really hate this cutesy look at what is a serious issue within latine communities. It's always "ha ha funny" seeing a Latina mom beating someone's ass but guys. That is still physical abuse. That is a serious issue and discussion that is held within the latine community. And seeing it so casually assigned to Rio kind of makes me feel sick.

And this isn't even tacking on that you're having a Latina beating/acting aggressive towards a canonical child abuse survivor (yes. Miguel is a child abuse survivor.) Which adds a whole new layer of how shitty this actually is.

Because I hate how people are boiling Rio down to just being an aggressor towards Miguel to "put him in his place". That's discrediting her character so badly.

Yes, latinas can be strong. Yes, latinas can be angry. Yes, latinas can get aggressive.

These are things people are and do because people are complex.

But I really need the fandom to stop for a second and really think about how they saw Rio, witnessed her give her heart on the screen, - a mom who's trying so hard to break these cycles of yelling and humiliation with kindness and understanding (even being a foil to Jeff's strong headed approach on purpose) -

took her and said "she would perpetuate a real cycle of abuse towards a fellow latino because he's the 'bad one'" and laughed.

I know you guys are depicting her like this as a means to defend Miles, but maybe not like this. Her character doesn't deserve being so bastardized like this for your stolen joke.

(which this whole "need" to defend him in the first place points right back to the racism towards Miguel if we're honest. I have complex thoughts on Miguel's interactions with Miles especially involving the end train scene but boiling a traumatized Latino man down to just being an "aggressive threat" that needs to be "put in place" as I've mentioned above is racist as hell too.)

You guys can reblog this, but don't fucking guilt trip people into reblogging this okay? I'm not giving you brownie points for that shit.

#i speak #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #rio morales #miguel o'hara

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alpha-team-rat · 7 months

Text

From the Pinnacle..

Minors fuck off. 18+ ahead only. Pairing: Albert Wesker & Afab!reader Word count: 1.0k Warnings: Mild gun play, mild sadism, typical Wesker manipulation, dumbification, mentions of killing reader. Summary: Training with your Captain doesn't go entirely according to plan. But of course, he planned for that. A/N: My first writing on this wretched site. @sable-elk You owe me.

A heavy boot pressed against the thoracic column of your spine, pinning you heavily to the ground. You knew in the back of your head that training with Captain Wesker would lead to nothing worthwhile or remotely enlightening. He took pleasure in seeing you squirm like a bug under his boot pressed heavily against your spine. "Are you quite done? You are wasting my time by squirming." Wesker's voice vibrated over your nerves, causing you to freeze in your movements. You let out a heavy sigh, feeling the air evacuate your lungs. "Yes, Captain, I'm done." You mumble in bated breaths as his boot removed from your spine before returning to step between your legs, kicking them open with little care of your comfort. The act caused an immediate shudder throughout your entire body.

"What a good little pawn, giving in to your king so easily." Wesker purred as he gently kicked his boot against your crotch, sending a yelp leaving your lips. You couldn't ignore the way he let out a breathless chuckle at your pain. He was always a sadist, but the extent always took you by surprise. You needed to focus and try to ignore the way he was torturing you.

"Good mutt." He continued before raising his foot above your pelvis, pressing it down to compress your already sensitive clit painfully, the resulting grunt was anything but dignified. As you lay there, trying to block out the pain and humiliation, a surge of determination washed over you. You refused to be just another pawn in Wesker’s game. You would rise above his cruelty and prove yourself to be more than just a “mutt.”

With a burst of strength, you pushed against Wesker’s boot, throwing him off balance and sending him stumbling backwards. As he regained his footing, a look of surprise flashed across his face. But before he could react, you lunged at him, using every ounce of training and skill you had acquired under his harsh tutelage.

The tables had turned, and now it was Wesker who found himself pinned to the ground, gasping for breath. You stood over him, a fierce determination burning in your eyes.

“I am not your pawn, and I am certainly not your mutt,” you declared, your voice steady and unwavering. “I am a soldier, and I will not be broken by you or anyone else.” Wesker hummed as he looked up at you from behind his tinted sunglasses. Wesker stood up, grabbing you by your neck and pinning you against the wall, his hand sliding closer to your belt, toying with the buckle,"You parade yourself as something higher than the dog you are. It's truly inspiring." He scoffs in a mocking tone. "Unfortunately, your body betrays every word slipping past your brainless lips." He skillfully undid your belt with one hand, sliding his hand into your pants and feeling the wet underwear underneath his fingertips, pressing into your engorged clit from over the fabric. You choked out a moan as he lazily circled your clit, gently pinching and flicking it from time to time, feeling the way your clit twitched and throbbed against his fingers. Wesker yanked your pants down in a swift motion before ripping your underwear in half. The action had you reeling, trying to recover from the ferocity, but to no avail. Wesker dropped to his knees to take your clit in his mouth, licking fat stripes up to the pearly head and sucking on your puffy lips, drinking up every drop of slick threatening to drop. You whimpered and gripped onto his vest, pulling him further onto your pussy in desperation. Wesker rumbled a laugh against your clit before continuing to suck on your sensitive tip. Your head lolled to the side as your hips bucked against his face, soft gasps leaving your lungs as his fingers suddenly pressed into your walls alongside his tongue, stretching you wide. His fingers were big, bigger than yours and oh so much longer. They pressed and rubbed your g-spot tortuously, bringing you closer to the edge. "Captain…" You gasp out, hand gripping his hair like a lifeline. Wesker purred, pulling his tongue out of your stretched hole. "You truly are nothing but a pathetic mutt. Whimpering for me so soon?" He teases. His words simply vibrated over your nerves. You couldn't process anything as your brain slipped away, making you brainless for nothing but his fingers, his mouth. You snapped back to reality when you felt something hard against your jaw. Wesker had his fingers buried deep in you, but his free hand held his gun to your jaw, finger resting on the side. "Finally paying attention? I truly thought I had lost you. Dumb mutt, I doubt you even heard anything I just said." "C-Captain.. You shouldn't be pointing a gun at me, you taught me not to point a gun at anything that isn't my target." You tried to remind him in a shaky voice. "You are my target, dear. Isn't that obvious?" Wesker smirks dangerously before he begins rubbing and pounding his fingers into your g-spot, causing your vision to white-out as you writhed on his fingers. "You are so easy. To think I can snuff you out and kill you right here, and you'd be happily fucking yourself on my fingers the entire way to those pearly gates. They wouldn't want you, you're too filthy for them, dear. You belong with a God who truly wants you." Wesker growls against your ear, knowing you can hardly think, let alone listen. Your body fucks itself onto his fingers, getting closer to that razors edge. "Cap.. Cap.." You babble uselessly as he continues to pummel your poor g-spot, watching as your eyes roll back when you orgasm, your walls squeezing and clenching around his fingers, a wanton moan escaping your throat. Wesker brushes his lips against your neck, almost as if to kiss it. "You hold my secret, mutt, and yet you don't even know it. Soon you'll be reborn, something better than this small town cop. You'll be perfect."

#albert wesker x reader #x reader #nsft #afab reader #albert wesker #albert wesker smut

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nanomooselet · 3 months

Text

Little but Fierce VIII

Knives is totally dismissive of Meryl. He acknowledges she exists all of three times.

Once in Vash's memories, to delete her from them; once as he's piercing the Core, to call her a parasite and dismiss her attempts to get Vash to wake up; and once to try and violently kill her because... she succeeded in waking Vash up.

Whoops.

I listed all those statements that Knives claimed to be the truth; now here's everything that I believe proves them false.

Vash is pretty, but he's useless without his brother.

Vash does not need his brother. He loves him - of course he does. He wants to save him. But he's never needed him. Rem was the one he relied on for support, and after her death, Vash was too afraid of Nai to give him that kind of trust. He's spent decades surviving away from him, something Knives simply will not acknowledge. He tries to remove Vash's autonomy because as long as he has it, Vash is at risk of abandoning him again, just as Rem did.

Remember that once Knives initiated the memory retrieval process, Dr. Conrad warned Meryl that breaking that connection would kill Vash? Knives made Vash need him, made him dependent. That's his idea of making Vash perfect.

He's a powerless, weak, pathetically naïve, blubberingly sentimental little baby who doesn't care about the Plants, too busy enabling humanity's abuse via performing his cringing, grasping abasement before them to notice how his brethren suffer.

Knives developed his powers first. But Vash's powers are greater. He can do everything a normal Plant can do; he can also do much more, and he's such a wonderful, kind and compassionate man, with amazing reserves of emotional strength. Knives wouldn't have had to try and subjugate him otherwise.

Vash personally talks to the Plants, cares for them, soothes their pain. And he's been doing that not just to help them, but to help the humans panicking because if the Plants died, so too would they. He spent years travelling between crash sites helping Plants and teaching humans to take care of them, assuming an authoritative role even as a little boy, and if he hadn't figured out he could do that, he would almost certainly have killed himself. Remember he finally made the choice to live in order to save a dying Plant, not a human - dying because the environment was incompatible. You know, because they'd all been crashed on a desert planet. Certainly many Plants are still suffering. Because Vash is the only one doing this. He can't rest or delegate. It has to be him alone; it all depends upon him.

And Knives has been too busy playing his stupid piano to take any notice. And having other people do things for him. Oh, and making it damn near impossible for Vash to do what he does, partly because Vash has been convinced he bears all the responsibility and accepts the punishment himself. It's incredible he's held up even as well as he has.

If Knives is even aware Vash can heal Plants, he likely wouldn't care, because he views Plants in dependent form as imperfect, the same way he has contempt for Vash's fondness for eating. When Vash tried to talk to him about the needs of the other Plants based on his own direct experience, Knives didn't just shut him down by calling what Rem said a lie, he started mocking Vash's grief over her death, complaining that she inconvenienced him. He isn't interested in an alternative. His is the only way. It always has to be his way; that's been reflected in all his abuse.

Knives himself is the more powerful (and much less human-like) of the twins; the strongest and most righteous activist for necessary change now that, sadly despite all good faith attempts at communication, non-violent solutions have failed.

Remember Zazie, Elendira and Vash himself all have said don't judge by appearances. Yeah, Knives's colouration makes him look a bit more like the dependents than Vash does. That doesn't mean he's less human.

When he first started using his chosen name, Knives was doing nothing to help his brethren in the wake of the Fall. All he did was retaliate against humans and obsess over Vash. He bet everything on being able to carry out his plans using his brother's power. He didn't bother to communicate with any human other than Dr. Conrad. Seriously, count how many humans he addresses directly in the series. The total shrinks to one if you leave out those he doesn't immediately try to kill.

As for the "less human-like" part...

Dr. Conrad and Knives believe a soul is what gives a Plant free will, makes an Independent. Knives is referred to as an angel, and as perfect.

But angels don't have souls, so much as they are souls - they're beings of spirit, not matter. Humans are the ones who have both souls and material bodies. The dependents are in their tanks because their bodies can't survive outside of them. What makes Vash and Knives what they are isn't a soul. It's their humanity.

Thus I simply can't take the idea that Knives is "perfect" at face value. I stand by the assertion that Knives, in defining all humanity as selfish and greedy parasites, inadvertently exposes how human he is himself.

He truly has only the best and most altruistic intentions: the freedom of his people, and the happiness of his brother.

Look at what he did to Vash. The only other member of his kind he knows to be a person, and he chained and silenced him. Look at how often Knives is around dying Plants, dying because of the situation he forced them into. Do you believe it?

I don't. I find no truth in his words. I can count on one hand the moments I think he's being honest about anything. And I'd like this to be kept in mind as I continue.

I said before that the series seems mostly to take on Knives's point of view, and it's worth also keeping that in mind - especially when you remember the Punisher was Knives's chosen, custom-tailored agent. A gift. He was the one Knives obviously expected would become Vash's chief emotional support; all the better to kick it out from under him. After all, his brother is the one Vash truly loves; the brother who is a weapon, a punisher of human sin, who's done all he's done for his family. Who better to bring Vash home than an imperfect replacement, reminding him of what it was in his life that's been absent for so long? His human inadequacy would add strength to Knives's argument. And so focus goes to Wolfwood, showing how being forced to take on this role has made him suffer. He is, literally, pivotal; his backstory and conflict is revealed and resolved in 6/7, the midpoint of the series.

Naturally, it just demonstrates all the ways Wolfwood isn't like Knives, and that Vash never needed his help. Wolfwood is the one saved by Vash, not the other way round.

So… because Knives was so focused on Wolfwood and what he would mean to Vash, he never once thought Meryl mattered, not to Vash and not to the Plants and not to the world at large. She's a parasite, nothing more. There's no way some silly officious little womanchild with no weapons or powers could mean anything.

Right up until the moment she did, and he promotes her instantly, all the way from insignificant to tango primary.

Meryl in his mind goes from insect he can't be bothered to swat to an ideological threat on the level of Rem Saverem, and he starts shrieking denials that she's beaten him. And remember that I said you should believe the opposite of whatever he says?

She has.

Because she loves Vash. (Platonic or romantic as usual doesn't matter.) She's chosen to follow him even to the edge of reality. Though she found Vash frustrating, she didn't try to change him, nor does she need or want anything from him. She saw how much strength he had, what he could do if someone just had faith. When Vash declares I won't stop until they believe in me, he can draw hope from the assurance that Meryl already does. And unlike Rem, Luida, Rosa - Knives can't do jack-shit about it.

And Vash, in turn, has deep appreciation for her support. She tied him up all the way back in ep 1 - which I called "laying a claim" - and here Vash reciprocates, binding them together. She's lent him her agency, her independence, and she didn't have to resort to anything like the grotesque extremes Knives did. It required no more or less from her than unyielding love - an ordinary human's love. Just like Rem. Thank you, Meryl. I heard her voice through you.

Her love is rooted in seeking and embracing the hard truth rather than shoring up a comforting lie. When Vash starts to break free of Knives's illusion, it's by holding to the truth - it was Rem who promised to protect him, not Nai. Nai isn't an innocent little boy anymore but monster of metal chains and blades, something Vash has every reason to run from. Rem loves Vash no matter what's been done to him, and Knives cannot kill her as long as she remains alive in him. Knives is too frightened to face the truth, regards it with so much terror he tries to flee back into the ignorance of the childhood before he learned it. In contrast, Meryl's courage and conviction, her dedication to seeking and spreading truth, is so strong in her they steel that which is within those surrounding her; Roberto, Wolfwood, even in Vash. She may be small, but her power is sufficient.

Never ever overlook Meryl motherfucking Stryfe. That's a mistake so great it can see a man go from the threshold of victory to on fire.

And I'm still not done talking about her. One more instalment.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part IX

#trigun stampede #tristampparty #trigun meta #meryl stryfe #millions knives #meta: little but fierce #tw sui ideation #computer still being fsssjhfa dumb #why must i have no money for repair

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monstersandmaw · 2 years

Text

Male ‘yautja inspired’ alien x gender neutral reader - Part Three (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Well, folks. You’ve absolutely floored me with your support for this story. I don’t know where to begin to thank you. Without further ado, here’s Part Three. It’s only had one edit this time, so please forgive any mistakes???

I will just quickly remind you that this isn’t technically a Predator/Yautja fanfic. It’s heavily inspired, but to the people ‘correcting’ my lore mistakes with asks that I’ve largely ignored, it’s not supposed to be ‘canon’ or accurate. It’s just a story with aliens who look like predators because I don’t want to spend time doing research and I love the design. Yes, they are basically a feral predator and a jungle predator, but just not in name and not in lore detail, so there’s no need to ‘correct’ me. Thanks. (Also Croc is gonna get his own story at some point in the future, I’m determined. Just not with this reader)

Contents: mention of loss of comrade’s life, thunderstorm, all the tropes, the start of some classic pining, some misunderstanding, some soft chat, Croc starting to be an exasperated wingman, and everyone’s favourite trope to finish with: there was only one bed... Wordcount: 4744

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw)

Neither of the aliens was anywhere to be seen when you finally stepped out into the chilly, misty morning after a night of broken sleep. Your neck twinged and your back hurt something fierce after so many nights with nothing but a flimsy camping mat between you and the lumpy forest floor. Arching your spine and hearing it pop quietly in the still air of the campsite, you moaned and wished for a comfy bed and a hot bath.

“The hell am I doing…?” you whispered.

Groggy, stiff, and more than a little sticky and gritty after days of hiking alone through the pine forest, you knew that face wipes were just not going to cut it for the fourth day in a row.

Given that it would be three days until their backup arrived, you figured you’d hang around the crash site — see if you couldn’t get them to open up a bit more about their culture, and about these other terrifying aliens they were hunting — and then slip away well before their help arrived. No need to push your luck with a species that was not known for being universally peaceful with strangers; after all, their backup might mistake you for the reason they were shot down…

You poked your head into the now-cool wreckage of their ship and stared around at the dark grey, polished metal walls and surfaces. Some areas though looked more like black, woven carbon fibre than metal, with glowing gold panels behind like carved, back-lit amber. They were too far off to see properly though, and with the grounded ship sitting at that angle, it was difficult to make out much else. There were a few doorways and compartments you could have poked around in, but since neither Big Red nor Croc was anywhere to be found in the limited area of the grounded ship that was still accessible, and since you couldn’t read the glyphs on any of the surfaces, you decided to leave it all well alone.

Their stuff was all still at the campsite though, stacked neatly beneath the tarpaulin. They hadn’t tramped off during the night to meet their rescuers at a different rendezvous point then, and you stood with your hands on your hips and stared around the campsite. Your breath fogged the air in front of you and you watched it twist and billow.

For a moment, it seemed as though the scent of fresh smoke drifted through the silent trees, but it could just have been coming from the wreckage, eddying in slow-spiralling drafts around the crash site. The acrid smell of it got in your nose and made you scowl and cough.

Your canteen needed refreshing and a glance down at your hiking gear brought a grimace to your face. After digging out a camping towel and the rest of your dirty laundry from your pack, you headed back to the stream from the previous night to rinse it out, wondering all the while where your two companions were. Even though the autumn air was cold, your clothes were all made of light, quick-drying fabric, and with an abundance of summer-dry pine wood all around you — half of it conveniently shattered to kindling from the impact of the crash — you’d have no trouble starting a fire if you needed a bit more heat.

With no one in sight when you reached the creek, you started by rinsing out your clothes in the clear water. The cold bit into your hands, piercing right down to the bone and making your movements slow and clumsy, but with that eventually done, you draped your laundry temporarily over a branch and weighed up whether you wanted to risk hypothermia just to get yourself clean for a while.

Deciding that getting briefly cold was preferable to remaining perpetually sticky, you stripped off and stepped down into the gully again. The basin of rock at the bottom was just deep enough and wide enough to stand in so that the water came up to lap around your ankles, but it wasn’t the kind of dreamy plunge pool worthy of a travel blog. It was slippery, slimy with green algae, and excruciatingly cold. Still, it would be enough for what your grandmother used to call a ‘cat’s lick and a promise’.

Stark naked, you dunked your upper body into the spattering stream of water and bit back a shriek as it hit your flesh. Hunched over and leaning close to the mossy wall, you rinsed your head and face, scrubbed beneath your arms and briefly between your legs, and then turned your back on the stream to rinse off your shoulders and back.

Turning around revealed a sliver of the view between the trees of the horseshoe valley below, and, more immediately, Big Red standing on a boulder about twenty paces away.

He wasn’t watching you though. Quite the contrary, he had his back to you and was staring off at the same sliver of forest framed by trees, but nevertheless you yelped in surprise at finding him there.

“I will not look,” he said in response.

“Fucking hell,” you spat back at him through chattering teeth as your whole body started to spasm from the cold. “How long have you been there?”

“Not long. I heard movement as I was coming back up the hill, but discovered… you.”

“Right.”

Perfect.

An alien had probably just seen you buck fucking naked, even if for only a second.

“Fuck. Fuck it’s cold.” You thought you heard him chitter a little laugh as you careered and splashed out of the stream like a panicked wildebeest and floundered up towards your camping towel to dry yourself off.

All the while you flailed around with the towel, Big Red remained completely silent and unmoving. Eventually — dry, dressed, and a little bit warmer — you turned around to find him exactly as you’d last seen him, staring out at the misty forest below.

There was something eerily melancholic in the set of his colossal shoulders and the stack of his spine though, and you paused, leaving your laundry where it was and approaching him quietly from behind.

Perhaps it was the cold that had taken the majority of your brain cells offline, but you came over to stand beside him on the flat rock and looked up at him. “Are you alight?” you asked in a soft murmur.

At that, he tilted his head down at you, mask glinting in the misty morning light. “Yes,” he said. After a beat he added, “We — ‘Croc’ and I — We burned our fallen squad-mate’s body at dawn.”

That explained the smoke on the air. With all the goings on of the previous evening, you’d forgotten that he’d said there had been one more.

Your heart twisted in your chest at his words and you reached instinctively for his bare bicep to squeeze the solid muscle with half-frozen fingers. “I’m so sorry,” you said, and turned to leave. “I won’t intrude.”

“Your presence is… welcome,” he rasped, though he returned his attention to the view. “You do not have to leave, though you have lost a lot of heat in that water.”

With a cosy fleece on to help warm you up, it was hardly an inconvenience to keep Big Red company for a while.

Neither of you broke the silence for a long time. Red just stood there with his hands cupped under his elbows, arms hugged across his bare chest, staring out at the trees in the crescent-moon valley below. It was choked in a pale fog beneath a heavy, iron-grey sky, and the details of the landscape blurred into nothing after no more than a quarter of a mile. Birds were still singing though, and Red seemed completely captivated by it.

Eventually, rocking on the balls of your feet to try and keep warm, you glanced back up at him. “What’s your planet like? ‘Secundus’, I mean.”

He spoke without looking down at you. “It is… not like this —” he gestured with his hand towards the gap in the trees “— Prime is more like this, but… the jungle there is… hot.”

“We’ve got hot and sweaty jungles here on Earth too. Croc might be happier there.”

Big Red nodded once.

“What about you?”

“I am used to… arid deserts,” he said. “Heat, sand, rock… Not trees for miles. Not… cold.” He said the word with such bafflement that you wondered if perhaps this was the coldest place he’d ever been.

“You’re cold now?” you asked and he nodded. With a little smirk, you said, “Well, maybe you should wear some more clothes then, you big exhibitionist.”

At that, Red did look down at you. At least, you thought he was looking. It was hard to tell with the mask on. His mandibles pinched inwards, puckering his mouth into a tight kind of scowl. “You are still below average temperature for a human,” he said.

“I’m warming up though. The walk back up to the camp should help too.”

Big Red nodded. “You should go.”

“Do you want me to?”

After a pause, he shook his head. The movement was so tiny you might have missed it altogether had not his braids clicked together softly.

“Can I ask you something else then?”

Again, he nodded. “So many questions.”

“Can you blame me?”

He laughed quietly at that and shook his head.

“Do you see in heat? In infra-red, I mean?”

Another nod. “I can see with my eyes too, but… they are weak. Especially here. The mask… lets me see the distance… and details.”

“Is that why you keep it on all the time?”

A long moment of silence stretched between you. “No.” He didn’t seem to want to elaborate more on that and you inhaled deeply, wondering what to ask next.

“How does it work?”

He sighed and raised his hand to his face. He lifted the mask off and immediately turned his face away from you again so that you couldn’t see him properly.

He was almost tall enough for it to work.

In profile though, you could just about see the delicate, prehensile mandibles, and a flat looking face that sloped up towards his large cranium, and you even glimpsed small, very deep-set eyes. His skin was a greyish red, like campfire ash, that faded to a pale, speckled gold in the centre of his face, and he didn’t seem to have the coronet of short spikes that Croc did just before the start of his cylindrical ‘braids’.

Without turning towards you, he stuck his hand out and offered his mask to you, inside facing upwards. You took it carefully in both hands, tearing your eyes away from what you could see of his face to stare at the mask, turning it over to stare at the smaller details. It was heavier than you’d expected it to be, but while the outside was made of stark, smooth bone, the inside was a warm, dark metal, similar to that of the ship’s interior. It was obvious that there were no eye-holes like there were in the metal ones you’d seen in the footage back at the base, and there were tiny little pads all over the inside that tingled when you ran your fingers over them. Some kind of electrode, perhaps.

“Is this how I saw all those images yesterday?” you asked and he grunted assent. “Never imagined I’d be plugging my brain into a piece of alien technology like it’s the fucking Matrix.”

He chirruped in confusion and almost turned to look at you, but caught himself in time. “I… do not understand.”

“It’s a film from the late nineties,” you muttered, returning your gaze to the mask and turning it over to look at the bone side. Trailing a fingertip along the tiny, almost cuneiform carvings that had been delicately engraved into the surface in an interlocking pattern, you asked, “Do you guys have movies?”

“Yes, but not like you do. They are… generated with… something close to what you call computer.”

“Boring. No actors and celebrities then?”

He shook his head. “We have famous warriors.”

“Naturally,” you quipped and he clicked his mandibles at you in amused agreement. “I think you’d like The Matrix,” you said, glancing up at him again. He was still angled away from you but you could feel his whole attention on you just the same. “I wonder if you could watch it in your head with this… Actually, that would be kind of perfect. The premise is that humanity is trapped in a kind of simulated reality, while machines feed off our bodies for energy but there’s this one guy — you know what, never mind. You should just watch it if you can.”

His mandibles twitched into what you’d come to assume was a slightly exasperated smile. He clicked at you but didn’t say anything in English.

When he didn’t move for a long stretch of minutes, either to take the mask back or to show you his face, you went out on a limb and asked, “Why don’t you want to look at me?”

He tensed and rotated his torso just a fraction further from you and shook his head, making his waxy ‘braids’ rattle against each other across his powerful shoulder and back muscles. The desire to touch, to feel his cool, hard skin beneath your fingertips was almost overwhelming again.

Exhaling in resigned defeat, you nudged his mask against the crook of his elbow and turned away while he took it in fumbling fingers. You left him standing on the rock and headed back up to the camp without looking at him. You were different species, after all, and you couldn’t expect to understand every little nuance of custom in a single day. Maybe Croc would explain it to you, if you could get him alone.

Croc was actually already back at camp when you trudged in with your armful of wet laundry, and he had started a cheery little campfire going too, despite the damp weather. You used the bit of spare cabling he offered you from the ship to string a temporary washing line between two trees, and draped your wet clothes over it to start drying off. That done, you approached Croc’s fire and asked if you could sit.

He grinned up at you from where he was perched on a crate and nodded enthusiastically.

“Big Red told me about your friend. I’m sorry,” you said.

Inclining his head formally, he said, “He is… at peace now. It is… the way of all our warriors.”

With a nod, you left the matter there. “How’s your arm?” It looked blackened and burned, but he seemed oddly sanguine about such a significant loss.

Again, he just shrugged.

“Is it… painful?”

Croc nodded. “A little,” he admitted. “But when we are… back on the mothership, I will… have a… How do humans call it…?” He mimed slotting something over the stump with his hand.

“A prosthetic?” you ventured.

“Yes! Though I have seen yours…” He didn't look impressed. “Ours are… permanent. Many warriors have… lost limbs… fighting the enemy. It is not so bad to… get made a new one.”

You nodded. “We could use tech like that,” you said under your breath. “Red told me a bit about this ‘enemy’ of yours… where are they from?”

The fire cracked and popped, and Croc told you what he could in his faltering way about the enemy they had fought for millennia on their planet. Apparently they had begun to spread off-world, and so his kind had followed, hunting them down. Croc then began to ask you a bit about your life, and about humans in general, and while you were sitting there, the mist thickened into a sheeting drizzle. You raced to pull in your laundry while Croc watched and laughed at you for trying to save the fabric, and once you’d dumped it all in your tent in a damp pile, you returned to sit with him again under the shelter of the tarp.

“Wear no clothes,” he said. “Then nothing to worry about!”

“Easy for you to say,” you scoffed, laughing. “Look at you! You’re both built like a tank!”

The rain drifted across the crash site in thick curtains, and despite the fleece and the protective tarpaulin, it wasn’t long before the elements started to creep down your collar and make you shiver.

“Red’s gonna get cold out there,” you murmured. There had been no sign of him for hours.

“Boss knows… how to take care of… himself,” Croc shrugged, but he didn't say it with his usual, affable confidence. He was worried about his friend too. “I must… take care of my weapon,” he announced, and you hoped to God that wasn't a euphemism.

Luckily it wasn’t, and he rose and returned a moment later from the ship with a complicated looking weapon that resembled some kind of sci-fi blaster gun. He laid it down on top of a crate, took out some kind of maintenance kit, and got to work.

You watched in silent fascination while he worked, and when he was just tightening the last screws on the casing, you asked about Red’s mask.

“Croc? Can I ask you something?”

He straightened up from his work, a tiny screwdriver held in his thick, clawed fingers like a surgeon’s knife. His yellow, reptilian eyes met yours, openly intrigued and he nodded. He seemed to enjoy answering your questions when he could.

“How come Big Red wears a mask all the time but you don’t? Is it a different species thing?”

Croc laughed at that, and half-turned his attention back to tightening whatever it was in the weapon that needed it. “No. But you have great honour… in seeing a warrior without their… helmet,” he said. There was a playful lilt to his tone that was almost self-effacing. From the way he said it, you got the impression that it would have been a great honour if he’d actually been given the choice about it, but now that it had happened, he didn’t mind.

His words kindled a sinking feeling in your gut though; Red clearly didn’t think you worthy enough of the honour of seeing his face, despite having saved his squad-mate’s life. Then again, you supposed it was fair enough. You barely knew him, and you were an alien too, in his eyes. Why should you get the honour of seeing him anyway?

Croc watched your reaction carefully. “My helmet…” he said, “It was destroyed… in the crash. When —” he cut off to make a series of clicks that clearly formed a name, though it didn’t sound like Red’s “— was killed and… that hole was blasted into the ship,” he said, indicating the gaping maw in the hull, “My helmet took… damage. Broken. I will manage without technology though.” With an honest-to-God, conspiratorial wink, he added, “Boss would struggle without his… He cannot see well with his eyes. And I am… much smarter than him. Adapt much better to Earth…” With another coltish grin he leaned in closer and added, “And much better looking, even to humans.”

Without warning, just as you barked a loud laugh, a small section of pine log hurtled through the air towards Croc. He spun and shot it out of the sky with the freshly-conditioned weapon, where it shattered to a spray of tinder on impact. He roared a belligerent, joyful challenge while debris rained down around you, and you turned to see Big Red standing on the far edge of the clearing, his shoulders rising and falling noticeably as he breathed. Then he spread his jaws as wide as he had when he’d charged you down the day before, and bellowed back at Croc.

Croc laughed and shook his head, responding to his superior in their own language. Croc then shot you a look when you just stood there in shock. “He challenges me. You are doubly honoured, human,” he said with a wry intonation that wasn’t dimmed by his difficulties in getting the sounds out around his sharp mandibles. “You get to watch two great warriors of our kind fight.”

“But… your arm,” you faltered, horrified. “Croc, you’re still healing…”

The shock must have shown in your face because he just laughed again. “We spar, small human… Not a real fight. Though,” he added with a few taunting clicks of his mandibles in Red’s direction, “Boss will not hold back.”

The ensuing fight took your breath away.

Croc reached into the cavity of the ship and tossed a small, metal stave over at Red, who caught it deftly and activated it to turn it into another one of the long, harpoon-like spears that were holding up two points of the canvas roof over part of the campsite.

The clearing naturally formed a kind of fighting ring, and the two circled each other with the familiarity of old sparring partners.

Croc said something that was clearly a taunt, but Red didn’t fall for it. He let Croc go first, whirling the spear around one-handed with surprising deftness. He clearly missed his other arm though, and went to grab the spear with a limb that was no longer there a few times, but once the two got into their stride, it was incredible. They danced around each other until finally Red struck with whip-crack speed. He swept Croc’s legs out from under him and held him in place on his back with the spear point steady at his throat. When Croc clicked at him, Red stepped back formally and waited for him to rise.

Red was faster and more precise than Croc, but Croc, even with his recently-acquired disability, was as powerful as his namesake, and more than once he knocked Red to the ground with a grunt of expelled air from his lungs. Once he even nicked Red’s upper arm with the blade at the tip of the spear, sending a trickle of lime green blood down his rust-red skin.

The way they moved together through the rain in perfect synchrony was mesmeric. Time passed, and it could have been minutes or hours before they finally drew to a halt.

They bowed, breathing hard, mandibles open, and then stepped close to one another. Touching foreheads as they had done the previous day, they touched their fang-tips to each other’s and then relaxed, turning away. Both of them were breathing hard, chests rising and falling while the rain poured off them like water down a cliff face.

“I’ve seen the soldiers on the base fight before…” you said as Red stalked over and grabbed a canteen of his own from the ship’s supplies, upending it into his stretching maw. The liquid was an unappetising pinkish-purple, the same as the plants you’d seen in the footage of the alien they were hunting, and although he drank deeply, he was obviously listening to you. “…But I’ve never seen anyone fight like that. You two are…”

“Impressive?” Croc grinned, coming up beside Red and slapping his commander on the small of his back, well out of the way of his braids.

Red tossed a snide comment over his shoulder at Croc, who laughed. “I can still… almost beat him… with only one arm. Boss is losing his… edge. Even with an audience.”

Big Red shook his head and quietly offered Croc the bottle, which he took.

The three of you settled down by the fire after that while the weather worsened, and by late afternoon, you had listened to them tell you, in their stilted, awkward way of speaking English, about how their ships worked, what the structure of their society was like, and roughly how many of their kind there were on Earth at the moment. Not many. Not enough to face the enemy, you realised.

“You’re going to need humans to get involved in this hunt too, aren’t you?” you asked, and after exchanging a brief look, both Croc and Red nodded. “You want me to talk to my boss when I get back?”

“I will show you… what you need to know… about them,” Big Red said, tapping his mask with a claw again. “You can tell them. Prepare.”

Puffing your cheeks out, you exhaled and nodded.

They ate rations that seemed similar to what you were living off — necessary, but not something they’d pick given the choice — and as night closed in and the weather picked up to a lashing rain, you dashed across the muddy crash site and dived into your tent for the night to write up your notes. You had a small camera with you, but you hadn’t dared ask them if they would consent to being filmed, and something about it made you feel… wrong somehow. It turned them from a vastly intelligent, sapient race into something akin to laboratory specimens for analysis, and that didn’t sit right with you.

Three hours later, as a full-blown storm crashed down on the forest outside, you began to shiver. It wasn’t so much the cold, though the damp was creeping up through the earth, through the groundsheet and into the mat, but good, old-fashioned fear. You’d never been outside in this kind of weather before, and although your tent was military-issue, its flapping walls felt very flimsy.

A tree fell with an ear-rending series of cracks a little while later and you forced yourself to breathe steadily. It did absolutely nothing for your galloping heart rate, and you curled in on yourself, huddling more tightly in your sleeping bag and trying not to whimper. Like a child, you wanted to draw something over your head and hide away until it was all over.

An indistinct roar rose above the howling wind and you opened your eyes to see a figure silhouetted against the fabric of your tent like a slasher from a horror movie. For a wild moment, your mind went completely blank until you recognised the timbre of the roar. It was Big Red.

With shaking fingers, you unzipped your tent and a face full of rain and spray blasted in almost immediately.

“Not safe…” Red growled, reaching into your tent with his huge hand and practically yanking you to your feet.

“Wait!” you shrieked, flailing. “Let me put some boots on before you drag me out into a fucking storm!”

Red released you and stepped back. Water cascaded in rivulets down his bare, hard skin, and the contours of his body were illuminated by the steady glow of a flashlight that must have come from their ship.

You stuffed your feet into your boots, grabbed your phone and the small emergency pack from the top of your rucksack, and bundled yourself up into a waterproof.

Praying that your flimsy tent would still be there in the morning, you stepped out, zipped it up again, and scuttled at Red’s side towards the hole in the side of the hull of his ship.

“Now what?” you yelled up at him above the racket of the wind that raced past the opening.

Red didn’t waste time with words, and just pointed. A small hatch was open in the ship’s inner wall that you could have sworn was closed earlier, and you ducked unquestioningly through it to find a cosy chamber, though everything was rotated ninety degrees after the crash. A bunk had been bolted to the bulkhead, but Red had dragged the mattress off it and laid it on the wall which was now the floor.

“If you do not… mind,” he said. “You may sleep here. It is safer than out there.”

You nodded. “What about you?”

“I will go with Croc.”

Red turned to go, but something made you call out to him. “Wait.”

He stopped halfway through ducking out of the doorway and regarded you.

“You could stay,” you said. “I’m smaller than Croc. You’ll have more room.”

“You… would not… mind?”

With a little smile, you shrugged out of your waterproof and crossed to hang it from a peg near the door. He watched you closely, as though expecting you to change your mind.

The water that was still dripping off your coat made a musical little rhythm as it hit the floor and you shook your head. “So long as you dry yourself off first, I don’t mind at all.”

___

Next Chapter --->

I hope you’re still enjoying where this is going! Your asks and tags in the reblogs have kept me going these last couple of days, so thank you.

If you happen to have a couple of bucks spare, you could always drop a tip on my Ko-fi, but reblogs are just as welcome and just as helpful! More soon, I hope... I know where it’s going - I just have to write it and things are about to get super busy in my life.

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skyward-floored · 3 months

Note

Warriors tugged his scarf up again and hacked another series of sharp, rough coughs into the fabric. His sigh more like a groan after catching his breath once the fit was over.

His head swam slightly, but he pushed through it and swept his bangs off his face. He wasn't sure, but his hands were either frightfully cold or he was on the border of running a temperature.

"Hey, hello! Wars!"

He was startled out if his introspective daze by the hand waving in his face.

"All good? That sounded nasty and like it had to hurt," Twilight offered up one of the waters from the group.

"Thanks, I've got mine," if, and a big if, he was sick it would do no good to have it go around over a shared water canteen.

"Morning crud," Wars shrugged after he took a swig of water. It burned something fierce and eroded some of his confidence as well as his forced smile. "You know how it is."

"Mhmm, sure," Twilight didn't sound overly convinced.

The group trudged on a while longer, though Warriors fell into a daze around the sharp, stabbing coughs that just seemed to dig deeper and deeper into him behind his sternum.

"Oh-kay that's enough of that," Sky clapped his hands and spun to face the lagging half of the group- which seemed to only hold Twilight, surprisingly Time and Wind, and Warriors himself.

"Time for a break. Wars, sit." Sky doled out commands effortlessly and Wars could do naught but sit numbly down beneath a tree.

"Did he just-?"

"Yep. He used his knight voice on you," Wind snickered and elbowed Wars' side, elicting another string of coughs and a groan.

"Sick, Captain?" Sky was standing in front of him, blocking the light. It looked like Twilight was just behind him, the tattle tale.

"Hardly," he waved off the gravely crunch to his voice, "Probably just the tail end of whatever it was a week ago working it's way out at most."

"Uh-huh."

Wars went to retort again and found himself with a face full of Wind's hand on one cheek, Sky's on his forehead, and Time sneaking the back of his fingers to the other cheek. He felt his face flush at the attention, and with a bit of indignation.

"Hands off," he batted them all away, albeit gently and with no bite. The jig was up, it seemed.

"It is okay to ask for down time and to rest," Sky had crouched in front of him now, "you know that, right?"

"We won't be upset as long as you take care of yourself, Captain," Time frowned in a way that reminded Wars too much of the little gremlin boy he knew of Time from the war. Wind was in on the concerned frowning, more of a brotherly pout really, to really pile on the lesson that he is cared for here.

Twilight seemingly disappeared, either to avoid accusation or to busy himself with the site set up.

Oh, but, hmm, must be more out of it than I thought, Wars thought to himself. Wolfie had trotted over and began to nudge his way under War's arm to settle his warmth and weight across his stomach and chest.

Sky gave Wars' hair a ruffle and gave a quick headshake to Time and Wind when they moved to get up.

"Stay here and keep him resting. Hylia knows he won't let himself," Sky gave a soft smile. "It is okay to need a break and a rest, please take it."

---------

Woe your coughing be upon Warriors and also the blorbos r cuddling you too.

anon wait you can’t just drop this here and leave without revealing yourself ANON COME BACK THIS WAS VERY SWEET AND JUST WHAT I NEEDED AND NOW I’M CRYING YOU’RE SO SWEET AND LOVELY

#answers from the floor #anon #linkeduniverse #linked universe #fic #I don’t deserve you all WAAAAH

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zoomzooml · 1 year

Text

[Worldbuilding] Regulators and recyclers aka the fauna of Cybertron

Like Transformers, mechanimals are created as protoforms and hatch from cocoons. Types of mechanimals can be divided by their function, or diet.

There I will try to vaguely explain these groups, along with examples of representatives.

Regulators can be compared to Earth's herbivores; they are representatives of the fauna, foraging vigilantly listening for threats. They feed primarily on parasitic lichens and regulate their numbers. In addition they can snack on flora, usually built on synthetic substances and fuels. Different models of regulators may and will have different energon preferences.

There are Transformers that toil to keep and maintain certain regulator models so that they can then be used to regulate parasites in a particular area in a slightly more natural, yet controlled way.

They are social mechanimals usually living in groups of 10-30 individuals. They are strong and fierce in battle, especially when defending young companions. They feed precociously on parasites that feed on the planet's substrate, such as Needler, so they have quite an appetite. Unfortunately, they are also quite clumsy, which results in injuries.

These are extremely rare loners, and if they are in a group it is a small one, numbering no more than 3 individuals. It is so difficult to encounter them that they have long been considered legends or myths. They are neutral to the point of seeming mindless. But rest assured that they are aware, and if you try to attack one, be prepared for a powerful kick or stab with a horn.

All indications are that they were one of the first models created by Vector Sigma.

Regulators also include pollinators by some, as they have a role in regulating plant populations. Pollinators primarily feed on nectar - energon made available by the flora - but are seen feeding on the "blood" of dead or injured organisms.

In situations where there was a need to "revitalize" an area, one option was to plant a dozen flowers, often preparing nesting sites for pollinators and artificially introducing a certain number of individuals. There was a good chance that they would quickly contribute to the spread of flora. Well, as quickly as possible.

They live in groups, but do not appear to be social with other individuals that are not their partner. They mainly inhabit table sunflowers, which are often accompanied by crested sunflowers - the needlebeaks' main energon source. They can also often be found in areas ruled by other flowers.

Bumblebuzzes live in numerous colonies, in nests usually built underground, but nests in trees do occur. Interestingly, they apparently establish colonies near the ground, where there is an increased occurrence of their cocoons. They have a rich, hierarchical social life. They can be found near flowered areas and are passive as long as they do not feel threatened.

Recyclers act as Cybertron's scavengers, but often play the role of hunters. Metal does not decompose, so every time something on Cybertron dies, it would simply be stuck outside the planet's resource cycle. To prevent this from happening, recyclers exist. They find and eat the remains of dead organisms, tearing them apart with their strong jaws and teeth, pecking out every screw they can. From the metal they consume, their tankards extract all the remaining energon. Unnecessary leftovers would be dislodged usually in liquid form so that the remaining components could be transported, usually by root sytem, to Vector Sigma and used to build the next units.

Their job is also to hunt down damaged individuals. This made them a huge threat during the war. Some soldiers used them like hound dogs, searching for a hidden or fleeing enemy.

Strong predators with equally strong jaws and a sensitive sense of smell. When hunting, they will assiduously stalk suitable prey to bite in at the right moment and not let go. They live in groups of several individuals and actively seek out and adopt newly hatched individuals.

The big avianoid is definitely a terror of the sky, armed with a beak like a sword or spear. They live in small groups or alone. It is worth mentioning that on the ground they are only slightly less agile than in the sky. Toward unknown individuals of the same model they seem to be territorial and even aggressive.

You can also find models that fall into more than one group, although even then they have a preference to one diet.

Adorned with two horns and strong legs, they were made to charge at danger. They are usually non-confrontational, but when provoked they have no problem breaking a few parts. Not their own, obviously. They usually live in small groups.

Smaller than the similar Bladebeak, they live in numerous herds with a rich social life. They inhabit cliffs and rock walls, on which they are in the habit of hovering.

Of course, there are many other mechanimals, on the ground, in the sky or in the water.

What makes mechanimals different from Transformers? First and foremost, the t-cog parameters. Almost every Cybertron creature has some sort of t-cog system, but not every one is as elaborate as the Transformers. The Transformers have this system so advanced that they are able to and have a whole alternative mode that can have different forms.

However, the mechanimals' t-cogs don't allow them to transform so far. They can relocate their parts to maximize some trait or skill, like speed, but they won't have an entire alt-mode.

The range of the t-cog is also tied to the computational power of the processor, so you could say that intelligence in some sense of the word has some relevance here, too. However, this is a loose connection. As mechanimals are less intelligent than Transformers, everything points to the fault of design and programming, not t-cog parameters.

But this is worth keeping in mind, given that the root-mode of some transformers can remarkably resemble mechanimals.

The above informations are old files, mostly from before the disappearance of the All-Spark. Propably, there are still some units functioning on Cybertron, but without active circulation of resources, mechanimals most likely only have a chance of survival in captivity.

#Apologies for any translation errors!#worldbuilding #Transformers Cheesy Fan Continuity #cyberfauna #cybertronian ecosystem #maccadam #long post #my thing #transformers fan continuity #TFCheesy

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bakerstreethound · 1 year

Note

Namor liking to cockwarm you after sex because of his breeding kink, and it’s his way of ensuring his cum stays inside of you for as long as possible 🫣

Our Future

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, copy, repost, or translate my works to other sites)

I hope you all enjoy some more Namor. Reader is afab but there's no other defining characteristics. I hope this doesn't sound too rushed or anything I'm trying to get my brain back in the groove. Special thanks goes to @wint3r-h3art for encouraging me to post this. Graphic by @firefly-graphics Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

You pant heavily, using your hands to grip his shoulders tightly, trying to get back to some semblance of balance after the multiple releases he put you through.

His hands still grip your waist tight, admiring how your bodies fit together and how full you are of him. He's not going to forget your desperate cries, the way you took him, begging for him for more, for him to use you for you wanted to bear his children.

Your eyes snap up to meet his, your legs trembling slightly as you take another shaky breath, clenching around his length still buried impossibly deep inside you. He does nothing to move you off of him and you don't question him, not when he brings his forehead to rest it against yours.

"Look at how well you're still taking me, so full of me you'll be due with child any month now."

Those words make you clench harder around him eliciting a moan from his lips. You can't help but fall under his spell, your beloved K’uk’ulkan, for he gave you the world under the ocean, a sprawling kingdom you both adored and protect as fiercely as you do one another.

"K’uk’ulkan," a broken moan escapes you when his hands stroke your sides, the feeling of him inside you still burns hot, leaving you wanting more, but you're so full of him completely and utterly his you didn't dare ask again. "I need to feel you again, please."

He mutters under his breath an assortment of praises when he strokes your hair, biting your neck hard making you squirm, causing delicious friction once more in your core.

Your grip on his shoulders tighten, trailing down to his pecs to rest there as his tongue glides around the marks on your neck and shoulders, reminders that you belonged to him and would bear his children. He couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect for the task.

Oh, how he adores you worships you everyday. The jade necklace hanging from your naked frame is a promise of your future here intertwined with him and he is never letting you go.

Another kiss is placed to your lips and this time it is gentle and sweet, something you feel honored to receive and he is willing to give to you completely. You take a glance to where your bodies are joined and his eyes follow yours, pulling you in again for the tender kiss full of promise and want, because he wants you here just a little while longer.

“Let me ravish you one more time, my love.”

You know it is more than a request and your back is already blown out and there’s no way you’re going to refuse a night in your beloved’s bed. But for now, with his tightening grip on your waist, you know you won’t be moving for several hours until he is sure you have taken in every last drop of him.

******

@bakerstreethound @starks-hero @feral-for-strange @wint3r-h3art @lilythemadqueen @novaracer27

#namor x reader #namor imagine #namor smut #namor x you #namor fanfic #wakanda forever #tenoch huerta namor

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cas-kingdom · 2 years

Note

❛❛ If you don't know how to follow an order, perhaps you shouldn't be here. ❜❜

“If you don’t know how to follow an order, perhaps you shouldn’t be here.”

The sonorous voice of the Autobot commander reverberated around the construction site. He paced back and forth, ignored by the men clearing the ground after the Decepticon attack and the following confrontation, his fists clenched and his battle mask still at the ready.

Below him, sat in the back of an ambulance, a nurse finishing his last touches in bandaging your arm, you ardently glared in response. You were the only being, robot or human, with the nerve to do such a thing, demonstrated very easily by the silence of the nurse and the quick movements of anyone passing by, their faces set with a determination to get out of the way lest Optimus accidentally step on them.

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” you said provocatively, causing Optimus to pause in his pacing and the nurse to stop bandaging for a split second, his eyes subconsciously widening. You leant forward, your glare hardening. “To hide me away every time something big happens just so I don’t get hurt? To keep me away from…what I want to do?”

The 'Bot’s optics narrowed dangerously. “Do you truly think I would consider the opposite?” he all but hissed, steam practically emanating from his body. “I do not prioritise your desire to run into danger, however fierce that desire is, over your safety.”

You stood to your feet and the nurse gladly moved to tend to others. “I can do—”

“No,” Optimus interrupted. “You are not yet experienced enough. One day you will be, and perhaps I may feel more inclined to let you come on a mission like this, but for now, when I tell you to stay behind—” He lowered his voice and his head, his optics piercing your eyes— “you stay behind.”

You could have said something else. Countless words were circling your brain, crawling towards the tip of your tongue, all too eager to spill...but your emotions were high, and before you could let any of them leave your lips, your eyes welled with sudden tears and you clamped your mouth shut, turning quickly away from him.

Seeing this, Optimus took the time to reign in the steam and cool himself down, straightening after a moment to give you space. You both knew his anger was the result of multiple things, all stemming from the fact you had directly disobeyed an order he’d given you and trusted you to abide by, and you knew you deserved it. Still, you rarely got into such meaningful arguments, and never had the need for one such as this arose before today. Whatever Optimus’s feelings, the sight of you upset still tugged at his spark.

He turned towards where you were staring, averting his gaze so he didn’t make it awkward for you when he caught sight of the tears he knew were there. Taking in a deep, unneeded breath, he ensured the next words to leave him would be softer.

“This injury today could have been worse, Y/N,” he said slowly. “If one thing had gone sideways…had gone in any way different…well. You might not be here for me to reprimand.” He glanced down at you then, hoping he’d somehow penetrated your current frozen exterior and knocked some important sense back into you. You were still looking ahead, one hand wrapped loosely around your bandaged forearm, where a piece of shrapnel, sent flying by a Decepticon, had sliced through your skin. He felt his jaw tense at the sight of it, remembering the events before, during and after...remembering how he’d suddenly seen you in the fray of battle when he also remembered ordering you to stay away.

Another sigh wafted through his vents. “Do not ever put me in that position again,” he said. “I cannot, I refuse, to deal with the grief I and countless others would feel at your loss. If you ever repeat today’s actions, I will send you home. Do you understand?”

You sniffed. “Yeah,” you mumbled, and Optimus nodded once in acceptance, as satisfied as the situation could presently allow. He didn’t speak lightly. The words held powerful weight. He loved having you at N.E.S.T. just as much as you did, and the emotional turmoil of sending you back to your parents would not be easy...but if it meant you would be safe, he would not think twice about it.

“It isn’t what I want,” he said, finally causing you to tilt your head slightly to look at him, your tear-stained cheeks glistening in the sunlight. “You said I desire to keep you from what you want to do. Primus knows your happiness is something I value greatly, but I have been in countless situations like this before. I know how they turn out. If shielding you from them keeps you alive, no matter how much you may hate me, I will do it over and over.”

There was a moment of silence, the quietude interrupted only by Will’s voice shouting orders in the distance and the clanging of metal as the men dealt with the dead Decepticon and the wreckage it had left behind. A cold wind blew past and you shut your eyes, letting yourself relax.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Optimus nodded once. “I accept your apology,” he said. Any hint of animosity had left his voice and you were glad of it. It was an established fact between you that your relationship would be rocky for the next few days as you each built it back, and there would likely be further conversation to add to this one, but for now, it was over.

“Colonel Lennox says the injury will heal well,” he said, referring to the moment Will had pulled him aside to speak to him before he’d turned his attention on you.

“That’s what the Doc told me,” you confirmed with a small nod. “I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Silence reigned once more, a peaceful one this time, and when you could no longer keep your emotions on the side-line, the stress and fear of the situation bleeding through, your quiet cries broke through the loud wind, and Optimus quietly bent to let you step on his palm. He brought you to his shoulder and you grasped the plating on his head as you sat there, the both of you working on what you could before you built together once more.

Transformers Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

#transformers #optimus prime #optimus #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #reader #reader fic #teen reader #teen!reader #transformer #autobot #mine #baby fic #drabble

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xploded-tb · 5 months

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[23/11/23] #BaiYu - BE PRESENT 专注在当下 | Translated Interview with SoFigaro Magazine

The following thread is a full translation of the 2023 November issue of SoFigaro. (First posted to Twitter here.)

Bai Yu is fond of taking photos of things that grow upwards.

During his photoshoot breaks, he would snap some photos of trees standing tall and swaying gently in the autumn wind, and some reeds in the distance.

The top of the pine trees in the cold November rain, the city walls that extend upwards, and the ancient corner towers that pierce into the sky…

These are things he likes to take photos of.

Perhaps all these have one thing in common.

Over time, they may seem to be standing tall and still, but in reality, they have been quietly absorbing and silently expressing themselves.

Parallel World

Following the conclusion of the Parallel World episodes, Bai Yu bid Chang Dong goodbye with a group of photos.

During the interview, he explained, "These are the yardangs we encountered along the way. This is an abandoned village, and this is where Chang Dong encountered an incident…" Although filming is complete, precious memories of this story are all carved into Bai Yu's mind.

Since ancient times, the Yumen Pass has always been an important landmark to the poets. It is an important frontier pass established along the Hexi Corridor during the Han dynasty. And today, it has become a heritage site.

To protect the area, most of the filming took place in the vast and endless Dunhuang desert. 'In boundless desert lonely smokes rise straight; over endless river the sun sinks round' (1)… The scenery described in the poem was right before his eyes. It was gorgeous, but they also had to tackle challenges brought on by the harsh environment.

Bai Yu recalled...

"We shot during June, so the winds were strong and it was the sunniest period. It was hard to illuminate the area at night in the desert, so a lot of scenes were shot day for night. Shooting under the scorching sun and in fierce winds did have some impact on performance."

One night, the giant tent the staff had set up securely was blown away by the wind. "The tent was huge, with really thick poles and sturdy ropes holding it down. Who knew that the next day it'd be missing, completely blown away by the wind!"

When time allowed, Bai Yu would drive his car to and from work, driving back to where he'd rest after the crew wrapped filming. "Nobody was around where we filmed, so knocking off and driving a jeep in this vast land felt great."

Whenever Bai Yu wraps up filming for a drama, he gives himself an extended break. Recently, he returned home to Xi'an and recharged with a bowl of hot oil noodles (2). Going back home is something Bai Yu often looks forward to the most after completing a project. After all, fully immersing oneself in a role is a significant test on an actor's physical and mental well-being. "Only when I'm back home can I unload and relax."

This year, Bai Yu also visited Wubu County, where he was born.

"I was born in a yaodong (3) that my parents built themselves, and it still stands today." Beside their yaodong are aging neighbors who could still recognize Bai Yu as that mischievous boy in their memories.

Some feel that the characters that Bai Yu has portrayed in the recent years carry this underlying theme of 'endurance.' We wondered if he felt 'bottled up' portraying such characters for some time.

Smiling, he replied, "A little, but you have to do something about it. So you need to rest properly to adjust." But every time he comes across a good script, he'd still be moved by the very authentic and rich characters.

After all, life isn't a feel-good drama. Struggles and compromises with things that turn out contrary to our wants are part and parcel of life.

Bai Yu had this to say…

"I used to be captivated by exciting stories, but now it's more the details that draw me in. These details should be used to portray a character instead of their embellished aspects. It's these details that let me get deeper into the character."

To Bai Yu now, there are no differences between 'important' and 'regular' scenes. People may enjoy discussing an actor's skill and portrayal of intense emotions in an important scene, but Bai Yu feels that shouldn't be all that makes a character.

"There are too many details happening all the time. It's like when I filmed 'The Long Night'; Jiang Yang is a character defined by many details."

The Long Night

Without a doubt, bringing up Bai Yu makes people immediately recall 'The Long Night.' Hearing this, he only laughed and said, "Then I have to reflect on myself. I don't have another work that makes people think of me this way. I have to keep working hard."

A lot of people say this is the work that successfully transformed him. To this, he responded, "These labels are given by others. I was never concerned with 'transformation' since that's what others define you. At the end of the day, it's about the performance and character, about what I like and what I feel fits me."

Before our interview, we came across something Bai Yu once said. He said that Jiang Yang was the first character that he just wanted to portray no matter what. Often, he would reflect on Jiang Yang afterward, and still felt dazed. It wasn't until the day 'The Long Night' premiered, a rainy day where he walked for a long time, that the weight in his mind finally lifted.

In a flash, the year is ending. We asked Bai Yu how he would sum this year up. He thought for a little while and said, "Never thought about it. I used to think time passes really quickly, so I took a long break this year. When I did, I thought time passed really slowly."

For a period of time, his tight schedule made him stop in his tracks to take the time to rest. To many actors, resting could mean missing opportunities.

"Of course, you could miss out on a good opportunity, a good script. But you need to first understand yourself. Can you do a good job if what you truly need is a good rest? If you encounter a good script that captivates you, that's great. But can you mentally tackle the task? Life is about making choices and sacrifices."

As the saying goes, one must take a step back in order to leap better. To Bai Yu, he has never stopped in his path as an actor, but only rested to make sure he has the energy to meet his next challenge.

Occasionally, the passing of time brings about certain thoughts. "A few days ago, I told my dad that I feel like I'm almost forty. He almost burst out laughing, saying, 'You're just in your early thirties!'" Bai Yu expressed that he felt this way because there are many things he still wants to do. Time has its own rhythm, whether fast or slow, but it shouldn't be a worry.

Summing things up, he said, "You set your rhythm. Don't be too bothered about how fast or slow time is going, just stay focused on the present. Live honestly and respect your own thoughts, no matter what it is you want to do. Just go ahead and pursue it!"

/END

TL notes: (1) From Wang Wei's "On Mission to the Frontier" (王维《使至塞上》) (2) Hot oil noodles = you po mian (3) Yaodong = earth shelter

Mag link here Mag in text format here compiled by Sweetheart_白宇甜心

BUY THE MAG HERE (can be accessed via PC)! If you need help with purchase, let me know and I'll try to help.

#白宇 #bai yu #bai yu for sofigaro #bai yu in this mag just looked cozy #and honestly he's right about needing to take time for yourself #you can only give your best if you're mentally prepared

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dathomirdumpsterfire · 6 months

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Chat writes the plot! Time for more 👑🐲🐟 KotD!

Want to be on the tag list? Have an idea for next chapter? Clicked the wrong option? Reblog or Comment! New? Check the very bottom for the Ao3 link. Latest chapter is down below the cut!🔥

~King of the Dragonfish Chapter 6~

Kenobi moves in his sleep. A lot. Maul knows this, because the jedi rolls to a new position approximately every twenty minutes. Primarily, the other man seeks the heat of the magma rock, curling around it until he's over heated. Then, he flops away from the heat and over onto Maul.

This provides a series of interesting discoveries.

For one, Kenobi is affectionate when unconscious, pressing his face to the sith's chest, and holding onto him wherever his flopping arm lands. The jedi's warm breath tickles the soft skin of his gills, and his legs keep trying to tangle with another pair that isn't there.

Amused, Maul winds his tail over Kenobi's restless limbs, and finds that it settles the man. The jedi only wiggles closer, like he wants the weight.

This is oddly pleasing.

Another thing is that he mumbles in his sleep, talking to various people. Someone named Ahnahkin needs to clean his room. Someone named Qwin needs to go away. Various others are complained at or dismayed over. This is the first glimpse, however removed, that Maul has heard or seen of the outside world in years. With the gungan fleeing from him on site -as is right and proper- he has simply not had opportunity.

The dragonfish sith takes note of every name and mumbled secret. He puts together stories, hungry for mental stimulation.

The third thing he learns while watching Kenobi is that he can stay unconscious for a very long time. A. Very. Long. Time. Maul waits, unwilling to sleep while exposed, for what feels like twice the time he would normally rest himself. Still the jedi sleeps.

His bruising has faded away over the course of this hibernation, colorshifting until the skin is cream toned again, and the scrapes and abrasions are nothing but faint lines. On one hand, he is disappointed to see the markings fade. On the other, a blank canvas invites new paint…

Eventually, Maul grows too bored to tolerate. Even with a selection of fresh calamari to nibble on. He shakes the other man, calling him back from his endless rest, “Kenobi. Awaken.”

The jedi groans, burrowing closer.

“Jediiii,” Maul hisses, “Wake. Up.”

Kenobi rolls away, batting at the hands which shake him, wiggling to the magma rock instead.

Squinting, Maul pins exactly one hair from his head between two claws, and yanks.

The other man makes a sad noise, ducking his head further under the rock.

He pinches another hair, and yanks-

Kenobi comes half awake with an angry noise, elbowing him, then burrowing into his own arms.

Maul grins, entertained, and gets ahold of a single beard hair, and yanks-

The jedi punches him in the side of the head, making his ear fin sting something fierce.

“RrrraaaaahH!” Maul shrieks, somewhere between rage and glee, and grabs the other man by his tunics to rattle him about.

Finally, Kenobi truly wakes, muzzily batting him off and rolling away with a groan. “Ye gods, you're a monster, and it has very little to do with your career choices.”

Maul preens. “You brought it on yourself, jedi scum. You would not wake.”

“Have you considered that, perhaps, that was because I needed more sleep?” the man snaps in a cranky rasp, kicking him.

Maul wacks him with his tail fin.

Kenobi kicks him again, harder.

It quickly escalates. The jedi yanks on his horns, making Maul gasp as a strange zing runs down his spine. He gut punches Kenobi for the trouble. Maul snaps his many sharp teeth at an offending arm, and tears a hole in his robes that makes the man cry out in dismay.

The dragonfish sith is tossed across the room with the force, and immediately shows the jedi how terrible of an idea that was by springing back at him like a compressed coil.

Both of them are bleeding a bit by the time Maul is satisfied. Not that Kenobi seemed settled, but it is hard to effectively complain with hundreds of pounds of amphibious sith on top of you.

Maul pins the jedi's shoulders as he leans over him. “We are done now.”

“Go kriff yourself, Maul,” the other man says dryly, flat on his back and trapped under the weight. “I haven't done anything, I've been nothing but compliant! Why are you beating me?”

The dragonfish sith grins, all teeth. The jedi may act disdainful, but his body shows interest in the fight. His pulse is fast, he's supressing a grin, he feels excited in the force, and his blood isn't the only thing that's up.

Good. Maul likes to fight. “You would not wake up, and, you kicked me.”

“I was tired and you woke me up by pulling out my hair.” Kenobi says defensively.

“I was bored. You slept for half a day, at least,” Maul returns, “Such weakness.”

Kenobi sighs heavily, scrubbing hands over his face. “Yes yes, weak as a babe.”

The dragonfish sith giggles like water tossed on a campfire, and licks the trail of blood running from the jedi's split lip where it drips down into his beard. He mouths at the bloodied chin, stealing away all the iron taste. Kenobi makes a choking noise, eyes going wide as he freezes in place.

Maul’s grin only grows, broad and sharp and cunning.

“Must you… do that?” the man complains, cheeks turning red and barely managing a scowl as he looks at the ceiling over Maul's shoulder.

“Yesss,” the sith affirms with a spiteful laugh, writhing his tail over the legs pinned beneath him. He moves just so, and Kenobi’s back arches up off the ground, head tilting back as he moans.

Maul's brain empties itself as he sees throat bared to him.

Pale.

Thin skin.

A pulse, a fraction away from the surface, that would font if nicked in the slightest..

His hindbrain gibbers mixed signals at him like a badly tuned radio. The dragonfish in him says ‘food’, the zabrak says ‘submission’ and ‘trust’, the sith lord and trained assassin says ‘opportunity’... and the man that is all of those things and more just stares at that enticing expanse of throat.

He makes a little noise when it goes away.

No no… he… what was that? He…

Maul roils over top of Kenobi again, hoping to elicit that same…

The jedi paws at him, blinking rapidly. He looks confused with himself. "I, ah..."

“Again!” Maul demands.

“Mngh?” the man asks, limp underneath him.

“Your throat! Show me-

Kenobi makes more choking noises, scrambling out from under him in a flail of limbs and putting his back to a wall.

The jedi swallows, but it is so dry his throat clicks loud enough to hear “...force, I am so thirsty. Very thirsty! And hungry. I'm really wasting away here. Aren't you going to feed me? I'm probably losing kidney function as we speak.”

Maul makes a face, slowly rising up and looking towards the water, considering. “You cannot drink salt water…?”

“... no,” the jedi confirms. “That will kill me in hours.”

“Mnngnngn,” the sith replies. Yes... yes he knew that. “There are… fruits I can bring?”

Kenobi perks up, “Fruit sounds wonderful.”

“Mnnn,” he decides, “Fruit it is. First, we must move you to a more secure location. If one gorogoro found you here, more could come.”

The jedi makes a face himself, glances over at the water, then rotates his neck to look around the walls. “Move… how? I don't see any other caves.”

Maul sloughs over toward the water, pulling on the jedi's arm, “Through the tunnels. Come.”

Kenobi scoots away. “Or, consider, we could… not do that.”

A growl of annoyance rolls out of him. “Kenobi.”

Blue eyes flash at him, challenging. “The water is cold. I'm not well. My robes are covered in dried octopus viscera and crunch with salt, and there's no fresh water to bathe in. I don't want to be wet again on top of all that.”

Maul sneers at him, but pulls back, fists clenching and unclenching as he tries to think through what of that was whining pathetic jedi and which parts could actually kill him.

Dehydration… deadly fast.

Cold… deadly fast.

Poor hygiene… deadly eventually.

Maul hisses in annoyance, he did not like those results.

“I will… mnnnh… I will get a new heat stone, first. I will put fruit there. Hnnn… I will make it warm enough that you do not need clothes.”

“What, no,” the man says.

The sith nods. Yes, this will work. Not cold, not unclean, not hungry, and only wet briefly.

“Maul,” Kenobi says, pained, “You're going to the surface for fruit, yes? Please, just, bring me a container of fresh water? Please do not make me walk around naked. Leave me some dignity.”

The sith thunks his fist on his forehead a few times, then discards all of the difficult thoughts in favor of action. “I will consider it, jedi. For now, I will make the safer room… better.”

“Wait!” the other man calls.

“Mnh?” He turns.

Kenobi licks his cracked lips, “What if another octopus comes while you're gone? Leave me a way to defend myself.”

Maul hisses again, leaning forward, “You think I would give you a weapon? You would use it against me!”

“Just! Just think about it,” the jedi pleads. “If one comes, I can only dodge it. One slip up, and I'll be dead on the ground and half eaten before you ever get back.”

The sith shrieks his denial at that result. “No!”

Kenobi approaches him by the water's edge, reaching out to touch fingertips to Maul's left wrist. “I solemnly swear, on the force, if you give me my lightsaber to defend myself, when you return I will relinquish it without complaint or hesitation. Please. That… that pain. I don't want to die that way.”

Maul vibrates in place with displeasure. The jedi had a point. The jedi was certainly lying. What was the worst risk? Which result was less good?

…

… he would not lose his revenge to a mollusk.

“Fine,” he snaps, “stay here.”

The sith takes to the water with no small amount of aggravation. Down and through the warren of caves, he goes quickly to the distant nook where he had buried the blade and rebreather. Quick as he can, Maul returns to the unsecure prison cave.

He emerges just enough to check that a gorogoro has not appeared in the interim minutes. Seeing nothing but a pacing Kenobi, he rises up enough to catch the man's attention, and then tosses the hilt at him before quickly diving again before he can attack.

They can fight again, later, after there is food and water and warmth waiting for his fragile prisoner. A place for the jedi to recover after he is beaten for his lies.

The dragonfish sith gathers another magma ball, rolling it up and carrying it back in the force. The new cave is a little smaller, and does not have the under-floor water ways that the original one did -which Maul had intended to use to harass the jedi- but, it is much more defensible. Two ways in and out, plenty of oxygen and bioluminescent plants, various boulders, and a relatively flat floor. Also, none of it is splattered in blue blood.

He takes a brief moment to check on the jedi, who is curled up by his heat source, before taking off for the surface. It is not a short trip to the islands with the fruit trees, so he plans to take many.

The sith also steals the laundry off the line of a fishing boat, and uses a sheet to bundle all the things together, but then he has to stop scavenging and descend. It is too bright up here, and the air feels wrong in his lungs. Too thin.

Maul dives for the depths again, eyes scanning the water for escaped jedi, or, conspicuous corpses floating upward. To his surprise, pleasure, and suspicion Kenobi is still in the cave where Maul had left him. He makes a lap to drop off his finds, and returns for their fight.

“Kenobi~” the sith sings, “I am back. Will you kneel before me and hand over your saber?”

The jedi master turns towards him, then looks down at his unlit blade.

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