#and there are a lot of interesting ideas floating around about them if you want to be a dork about it! like I bring up body autonomy and

[agnesandhilda]

when I used to do arnis (filipino stick fighting/martial arts, which has a handful of different names, but that’s what the group I practiced with called it) we practiced chokeholds and I, understandably, was kind of freaked out about the idea of being choked even though I understood it wasn’t real.

we were doing triangle chokes. to clarify how that works, you’d be facing someone (we’d usually run through some brief drill before this to simulate a “fight” that someone would “lose” and end up positioned for the chokehold) with their throat pressed to your bicep and your stick against the left side of their neck, resting against your own shoulder, to keep them in place. your stick and arm together would make a triangle shape with someone’s head in the center---that’s where the name comes from---and you’d press in against the side of their neck, not directly on the front of the throat but to one of the soft, fleshy sides on either side of the neck to restrict blood flow. (and, fun fact, not all chokeholds work by targeting the airway! some, like triangle chokes, affect circulation)

so we pair off to practice and I’m with this dude I’ll call andrew, a mild-mannered older man, and he walks me through it. I tell him I’m nervous, and he explains that I can tap out, (which is common practice for martial arts, and means exactly what it sounds like--you tap your partner to signal that they stop. I had done this before for exercises related to joint locks and takedowns, so I was already familiar with the concept, though I was never nervous for those) whenever I feel like.

anyway, I’m still skittish, but I’ve known andrew for like a year at this point and know he’s a responsible guy to partner with for drills, so whatever. we’re doing this. we get into position. he’s got me in the crook of his arm, and he starts to press down very, very slowly. now, if you’ve never been put in a triangle choke, I’ll tell you that it feels like there’s pressure building up in your face, inside your head---or at least that’s how I remember it feeling now, years after last doing it, so take that with a grain of salt if you want. anyway, I let that feeling of pressure build a little, and then tap his arm twice, solidly. and he lets me go on the spot. 

we do that a few more times. he catches me, gradually increases the pressure on my neck, and whenever I feel like I’ve hit this natural threshold of discomfort I tap out and he releases me instantly. at some point, I think, oh, he’ll stop whenever I tell him to, and it was oddly empowering.

like, I know it sounds weird to say, but I was what, sixteen at the time? and like most kids I had never gotten much of a say in what happened to me or my body---you can’t dress too boyish, it’s rude and improper, (even if I just wanted to wear what cis boys would in that same situation), you can’t refuse physical affection in polite company, even if it’s from people you despise---it was novel to me to be able to give my no and have it respected instantly and without question.

andrew’s turn to practice ends, and mine starts. I put him in the chokehold and he corrects my stance so I do it properly, and I start to actually choke the guy. now, if letting someone practice their chokehold on you is nerve-wracking so is being the one to do the choke, in an equal and opposite way---I did martial arts for years, and I never got entirely comfortable with hitting another person with force, even though they always consented to it! fuck, I do taekwondo now (sort of, I’m bad about actually showing up), and I’m still hesitant to strike up until my partner pretty much up and tells me to go for it already. 

anyway, I’m a bit shy about this whole choking business, so I go in slow as a snail (to be fair, you’re always supposed to go slow for safety reasons during any chokeholds or joint locks or takedowns, but I’m going extra slow), pressing into the side of andrew’s throat with my stick, and after several moments he taps my shoulder once, firmly, and I break the triangle to let him out. 

we do this until my turn to practice the chokehold is over, and then the guy who runs the class stops everybody to tell us to break up and find new partners to practice with, and I make a beeline for one of my favorite partners, one of the few other women in the class, and one of only two female black belts, which left her as one of my only options for a role model. I’ll call her edith! edith was blunt, funny, a no-nonsense teacher, and I thought she was the coolest. 

edith had been practicing there for fifteen years and, unlike andrew, who was a straightforward, no-surprises kind of guy, would mess with you. she’d sometimes break out of the routine of the drill we were supposed to be doing to try something else she knew---because she’d been practicing arnis for about as long as I’d been alive at the time, and blindside me. I remember once we were doing this drill, a fast-paced one, swaying around the room, our sticks clashing loudly, and she snaked her stick around my arm to catch my elbow and pull me in, twist my arm behind my back, and tease me. she said I was stiff and predictable, which was embarrassing advice to get, but also hard to be upset about when the whole situation was fun for me. 

anyway. I went over to her immediately so she could choke me next

#bolo speaks #to clarify yes I was attracted to her I think but it wasn't exclusively about that like she was also super cool generally #not gay not not gay but a secret third thing #anyway. I really loved doing combat sports even though I did eventually quit bc the atmosphere around them was too misogynistic #and there are a lot of interesting ideas floating around about them if you want to be a dork about it! like I bring up body autonomy and #consent a lot here #years ago I read this rly interesting article about prizefighting and consensual violence and capitalism that I'll link here if I find it #the Themes the Motifs etc etc etc

[randomshyperson]

I Put A Spell on You - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #03

Summary: After a tense week and a training session, Wanda finally had enough of your attitude.

Warnings: (+18), heavy smut with power dynamics,  brat tamer!Wanda and sub!Reader, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, a lot of teasing, blindfold and magical restrictions, enchanted strap, kind of rough,  implied enemies to lovers, some cursing | Words: 3.559k

A/N-> This is almost late. I totally forgot I had to post the stories.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It was Natasha's idea, or at least it was a Black Widow kind of thing.

Most of what Wanda knew about it came from Steve's official report on the training, and the rest of the story came from Sam gossiping around the tower.

But in a nutshell: You had your vision temporarily impaired on the last mission, you were knocked out by it and it almost fucked everything up. Wanda would have thought that this was all it took to diminish your ego a bit, but instead, you and Nat had a weird widow's agreement about eliminating weaknesses or whatever, and this was adapted to your training.

The whole story was the reason you were training with a blindfold on. 

And don't let Natasha hear this, but you were an impressive fighter, even more than the older widow. Somehow you were more agile and stronger than Nat, and it was the kind of thing that made Clint remark worriedly about how much harder your widow training could have been and secretly made Wanda's heart beat faster.

But back to the point: Wanda shared very few training shifts with you. Steve and Nat found peaceful interaction between team members advantageous, so as you didn't get on so well, she had fewer training sessions in your company.

Well, that changed because you seemed determined to prove that you could block blows without seeing them.

"Wow, you're still here." It came out more ironic than she wanted, but Wanda was actually almost impressed. It had been nearly a month since the whole thing had started, and this training was coming after a particularly exhausting mission. She was just going for a quick session - so that the muscles wouldn't lose habit as Steve liked to say - when she found you in the empty tower gym. 

The eyes covered by a black cloth were an almost comical sight, or at least, Wanda assumed that finding it funny was what she was feeling, every time she saw your serious and concentrated form, sweating in the gym.

"Good evening, Wanda." You greeted her without looking at her, your head down. You were listening to her movement she assumed. 

Wanda muttered the greeting back, busy leaving her belongings on the bench and looking for a treadmill. But you cleared your throat. "Don't you want a real challenge?"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Oh, and that would be you, of course."

You smile, your hands behind your body. Wanda thinks she likes the blindfold, it allows her to stare you brazenly, without you even knowing.

"I'm a legendary fighter, yes."

She has to laugh at how naturally you say that. She takes a quick look at the treadmill, and well, smashing your ass really does sound more interesting.

"Okay, real challenge, show me what you've got."

Wanda positions herself on the opposite side of the mat from you, and clears her throat when you remain static.

" Won't you take your shoes off?"

She grimaces softly. Yeah, your hearing was starting to impress. Sighing begrudgingly, she uses magic to make the shoes come off and float away, and before she even has a chance to speak, you do.

"No magic tricks." It sounds like a serious warning, rather than a request, and Wanda doesn't miss a chance to torment you.

"Oh, is that too much for a legendary fighter?" She mocks, but all she gets back is an easy chuckle that she isn't able to reciprocate because you adjust your training gloves and the movement is distracting enough.

After a moment, you get into position. "I'm ready."

"At last." She scoffs, stepping forward. 

Ultimately, she's impressed. And she almost begins to believe that maybe the cloth is fake - there's no chance that you can dodge absolutely all the blows she's so exhaustively learned with such ease. 

It doesn't take long for Wanda to start getting impatient, and for you to start smiling at her, in that smug way that makes her skin itch.

She makes a mistake, and it's enough for you to knock her to the ground.

"Again." You say, standing next to her, equally out of breath but without a scratch. Wanda huffs.

"How the fuck are you doing this?" She asks, getting to her feet with a magical push. You swallow dry, taking a step back, very alert.

"Practice, of course." You mutter. "Are you ready to continue?"

But Wanda narrows her eyes, her head tilting slightly at your sudden alertness. She decides to test a theory, and red sparks appear in the air near your head.

The leap you make in the other direction makes her giggle playfully. 

"Something wrong, darling?"

You grumble, raising a hand in warning, irritably hitting exactly the right spot to point it at her. "Stop this. I told you, no magic."

But Wanda is tired, and she's feeling naughty tonight. Something about your vulnerability makes her body heat up.

She chuckles darkly, taking steps away that only make you swallow dry. "Someone's scared." She sighs, and the sparks appear again. You gasp, clearly anxious and not knowing where to strike.

It's Wanda's fault, there are too many of those and magic is much harder to defend against.

She chuckles at your state, and you snap back almost immediately."That's not funny, Maximoff." 

A magical tug pushes under your knee, behind your elbows, near your foot. Everything makes you jump with fright and sends Wanda into a fit of giggles.

"You're not so cocky when you're scared."

In a desperate attempt, you try to attack the magic, which only disappears into thin air against your skin. Wanda just stands back, watching the scene with amusement.

With an impatient grunt, you raise a finger at her. "Stop this shit, I'm warning you-"

"Don't be rude, darling. I like you best when you're polite." Wanda interrupts, and your exclamation of indignation turns into a grunt of pain when a magical tug forces you to your knees on the mat.

"What the hell?" You gasp, raising your hand to remove the blindfold. 

But the sensation that follows is like ropes grabbing your wrists and pinning your fists behind your back. Your heart is racing at the same moment. "Wanda, what the actual fuck you're doing?"

Although you can't see her, you hear her very well. Her slow steps towards you, until she makes you jump gently when she touches your cheek. You swallow dry. "Stop this bullshit, Wanda, I'm serious."

She pushes her tongue into the roof of her mouth, a clicking sound that makes you swallow dry again. Her fingers caress your cheek, and the lack of visibility makes everything all too vivid.

"You have a very dirty mouth, kotenok (kitten)." She retorts in a tone that makes you shudder from head to toe. With a dry throat, you look up, even though you can't actually see her.

It must be a good thing for your sanity, though. God knows what you would have done if you could have seen the way Wanda's eyes darkened with hunger when she saw you on your knees, looking up at her.

Licking your lips, you say calmly: "Be very careful with your next action, Wanda. It will be definitive for our future interactions."

She bites back a smile, and her hand leaves your cheek for your hair, the motion in the strands at the nape of your neck drawing a stubborn sigh from your lips.

"See, it's much better when you're polite." She says softly, letting her fingers slide between the strands, stroking your hair gently. "That's how it goes. You behave nicely, and you're rewarded. Behave badly, and well..."

To illustrate, she moves her free fingers. You hear the magic before you feel it - right under your blouse, like a rough tug on your left nipple that makes you grunt in pain.

"Fuck, you little shit-" But swearing at her makes it worse. The sensation is repeated on the other nipple, not real enough to hurt the flesh, but enough to cause pain. And in the current scenario, on your knees and blindfolded, just the right amount for a wave of pleasure to wet your panties. 

It takes you by surprise, so much so that instead of grunting in pain, you practically moan. And that makes Wanda smile, especially as she can see the blush rising on your face.

"You need to improve that attitude." She starts again, adjusting the grip on your hair to force your face in her direction again. You bite the inside of your cheek hard, certain that this time, you would have whimpered. "You've been acting like this for too long, you've gotten comfortable in your naughtiness. I can fix that."

"Wanda..."

"Shush, darling, now you don't talk. You listen. Isn't that what you were hoping to train yourself to do?" She teases, and the grip loosens. You don't have to obey, but you're desperate to do so.

With a lump in your throat, you nod and remain silent. And the next second, when the sound of a zipper fills the room, you grow restless and alert.

You're ready to question when Wanda sighs.

"Shit, honey, that's been working for me too." She panted and you were dying to understand what the hell she was talking about when, along with her shortened breaths, you heard a sound that shook your body to its core. 

Was it really possible that Wanda Maximoff was fingering herself right in front of you?

"W-wanda-"

The slap isn't magical - nor is it weak. Your cheek burns, but Wanda grabs your face anyway.

"I told you to be quiet." She grunts, and in a way, the affected voice is confirmation enough of your suspicions. You can feel your underwear starting to feel uncomfortable with the dampness gathering. "You've talked a lot of shit since I joined the team, now you listen, you brat."

Not only do you hear it, but as the movements continue, you can smell it. Her sweet, intoxicating essence is enough to make you moan for the first time in the night.

Wanda let that one slide, because the sound is too good to punish you for it.

And because you've held still long enough for her fingers not to be enough anymore, she's decided that you deserve a reward.

"Open your mouth, darling, I've got a little treat for you." She sighs, and you obey almost immediately, even though your face is burning.

Wanda removes her fingers from inside herself, sighing softly as she does so. Unhurried, she presses them against your tongue and has to bite down hard on her own when you buckle forward, sucking on her fingers with enthusiasm.

"Look at you, who knew you were such an eager little thing?" She taunts, although the sensation of your tongue on her fingers is almost making her lose her train of thought. She can only imagine how deliciously warm you must feel elsewhere.

You just keep moaning, sucking all her wet pleasure from her fingerprints, and Wanda has to reach down and grab your hair once more to regain some of her sense of grounding.

Her voice is hoarse when she speaks again, but you don't seem to mind. "Did you like your treat, darling?"

You open your mouth to reply but hesitate before doing so. And Wanda smiles proudly when she realizes. "Oh, dear, you can speak if it's to answer my questions. Tell me how much you appreciated your treat."

Swallowing dryly, you lower your head. "I loved it, Wanda. And I would love to taste it from the source."

She bites back a giggle, using one hand to lift your chin. "You didn't even thank me."

"Th-"

The magic squeeze comes directly to your clit now. You let out a little yelp, but Wanda's hand doesn't let you lower your head. 

"I didn't tell you to thank me. Rather, I was reprimanding you because good manners don't come to you naturally." She clarifies, and with tears of pain and pleasure in your covered eyes, you nod in understanding. Wanda sighs. "I'm going to make a good girl out of you, even if I have to keep you on edge all night for it."

The whimper that escapes your throat is humiliating, Wanda loves the sound. 

The next sensation on your skin is that of a chain, wrapping itself around your neck. 

"We need to continue this in a more private place, darling. Where no one will interrupt us." Wanda guides, and the chain gives a gentle tug, the hint caught just in time by you, who are on your feet almost immediately. Wanda bites back a smile. "Fuck, I could get used to this."

She manages to lead you quietly and obediently through the empty corridors, but your anxiety overcomes you at the door to her room.

You stop walking, gulping. Wanda smiles because you're waiting for permission to ask a question, even when you're dying to have it answered.

"It's my room." She clarifies, but you shake your head, signaling that it wasn't your doubt. She shouldn't be impressed that you've already become able to memorize the sound of the way to the rooms, but she is. Smiling, Wanda brings a hand up to your face again. "What do you wish to ask, darling?"

You sigh at the permission granted. "Are you... are you sure? About this..." Wanda is taken aback. Your hands are still bound, you're still blindfolded, at her mercy, and yet you're worried about how sure and comfortable she is. You take a deep breath as if trying to find the right words. "This is important, Wanda. We can't go back to how things were before if I come in. And if you're not sure, send me away, and I swear we won't talk about this again and-"

Wanda moves in, it's quick and less hungry than she thought your first kiss would be, considering recent events and frankly, the way she's been craving you.

Your lips are soft and kind of addictive. Your mouth kisses her with real confidence as if you've done it a dozen times, and Wanda has no idea how often you've done it in your dreams. 

But reality is superior to any of those.

You grunt against her mouth, impatiently, and Wanda knows it's because of your trapped hands. But all she can do is smile mischievously, using hers to pull you by the shirt into the room.

The door is magically closed behind the two of you.

You're not surprised to be put on your knees again - even if a moan of protest escapes you. Wanda smiled, feeling a wave of excitement at your vulnerable anxiety, your eyes blindfolded and your head moving gently as if you expected to hear what she was up to.

Wanda bit her lip, working on her own clothes without magic, so that you could hear the motions. It brought a shiver to watch you squirm gently, swallowing dry as if you could picture her naked. And your pleading sigh, practically meowing her name, made Wanda lose her mind.

Now wearing only her underwear, she grabbed your face again and kissed you with everything she had - teeth and tongue - and swallowed every throaty moan until she needed to breathe again. When she pulled away, a line of saliva connected your lips.

"We need a system, darling..." She murmured, her fingers working to open the belt loop of your sweatpants. "You know the color one? Green for go, and red for stop?"

"Y-yes, Wanda, please, just keep going-" She interrupted with a kiss mixed with a giggle at your desperate response, the hands that had opened your pants helping you to the bed, laying you down. The magical chains had adapted, and your hands were attached to the headboard now, holding you open for Wanda. Your arousal grew so intense that Wanda could see your muscles twitching.

She sighed contentedly as she sat on your hips, watching your curious and expectant movements. Magic did the work of removing your pants, but Wanda was taking her time teasing your skin under your blouse, having the best time in the world watching you squirm and gasp.

"Tell me what you want." 

You swallowed dryly, forcing your voice out: "Anything you want to give me."

Wanda bit back a giggle, her fingers tracing your torso. "Good answer, darling." She sighs, and in one tug, rips off your shirt. The remaining pieces are swept away as you try to keep your breathing under control. Wanda adjusts herself and sits on your stomach, her wetness and warmth against your skin making you wince. "I have an idea, you let me use you and I might consider letting you touch me, what do you think?"

"Fuck." You moan, and Wanda can't let that one slide, though the slap on your cheek is light, and much more of a teasing warning than a punishment. It makes you throb inside.

"Language." She warns, and you sigh.

"I'm sorry."

Wanda strokes the soft red on your cheek, leaning in in a way that makes her wetness slide down your abdomen. The involuntary contraction of your muscles draws a gasp from both of you.

"Behave yourself." She warns, and it seems to be as much about the language as your slight movements, and although you nod, you repeat the gesture. Wanda gasps and grips your cheeks tightly. But you force your body upwards, and her grip loosens as she begins to grind against your stomach, giving in to the sensation. 

It brings some kind of pride to know that she's just as affected by this as you are, but even as she's drenching your skin with her hot pleasure, Wanda lowers herself to wrap her hands around your throat and as she uses your tense abdomen to reach her own orgasm, her grip warns you who's in charge. She doesn't take long to come - all the teasing outside has gotten under her skin - and it's the hottest thing that's ever occurred to you, even if you can't see it.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." She gasps through the last waves of her orgasm, her hips thrusting hard into you, who pants beneath her. Her juices run down your belly and you squirm impatiently.

"Please, Wanda. Let me touch you." You beg breathlessly, but she kisses you hungrily, her hands going down to your waist. At first, you think she's going to give you what you want, but Wanda gropes you in an unusual way, and you hear her magic before you feel a new volume between your legs. It takes you by surprise, the enchanted item and your tense body makes Wanda break the kiss.

With her forehead pressed against yours, she asks: "Red or green, darling?" As if to encourage an answer, Wanda grabs the conjured fake cock in her hand. It's really enchanted because you feel everything and the pleasure of the moment's stimulation brings a gasp. You move your hips, in the same direction as her without realizing what you're doing, and Wanda giggles. "I still need words."

"Fuck, green, yes." You moan and Wanda gives you a warning bite on the lips for cursing, but your head is spinning with pleasure from the movements that continue between the two of you.

Toys are nothing new - but a magic strap-on that you can feel as an extension of you certainly is. And Wanda seems willing to drive you to the brink of insanity when she simply adjusts the toy at her entrance and sinks in all at once.

You whimper, almost coming at once. She rocks gently against your lap without caring.

It's hard to breathe, especially when Wanda picks up speed and practically jumps on your cock, her warm walls clenching around you, trying to stop you from pulling out. Everything is too hot and just when you're ready to come, Wanda grabs your throat.

"Hold it." It's an order, almost impossible to obey when she rides your lap with such determination. You choke, struggling against the chains, the hot knot in your belly begging to break.

You almost sob. "I-I can't... please-"

She lets out a wicked giggle and doesn't stop moving. "Don't worry, babe, you're not coming. No matter how much you want to."

Wanda moans, and suddenly her movements stop. She groans heavily, gets impossibly tight and you think you're going to come, but something holds you back. Almost like a force of strength, and when Wanda falls limp against you, and her body continues to tremble from the intensity of the orgasm in contrast to yours, burning with more frustration, you understand what she's done.

"Wanda, what the fuck?" you gasped in a mixture of disbelief and irritation. And instead of losing her temper, she giggles mischievously at you.

"That's why you don't deserve to cum, baby. You're a foul-mouthed brat." She bites your jaw as she sits up, and you gasp, feeling her clench around you. "You're not coming until you improve this attitude."

She thrusts into you as a warning and although you feel as if you could come, your body simply won't obey. Because of the blindfold, you can't see her red irises either. 

"You're so mean, Wanda." You groan, sighing at the sensation of her pulling out. 

"Oh, darling, we have barely started."

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #kinktober 2023 #wanda maximoff oneshots

[fallenneziah]

Flicker Optimus Prime x Reader

Summary: You and Optimus go for a midnight drive.

Apologies for any spelling mistakes.

Optimus had been stressed lately and it seemed like you were the only one who could see it. You sat near Cade's old shed and watched Optimus interact with his team. You had been hanging out with them for a while and after the battle, you'd been laid off from work, which left more time for the 'bots. 

You sighed. You could tell just by looking at him just how much stress was put on the mech's form. Optimus was saying goodnight to Shane who was being forced off the property again and sent home early. While some of the 'bots like Drift and Crosshairs retired to recharge, Hound, Bumblebee and Optimus seemed to have their processors full. Bumblebee was throwing punches at an imaginary target while Hound lounged. And Optimus struggled to stay still. 

You looked up at the dimming sky. It was roughly 9:40 and the sky would be pitch black by 10:30. You hummed, that gave you an idea. You stood from the shed-side and walked down into the junkyard. You approached Optimus carefully and took his attention from his pacing.

''Y/N? How may I assist you?'' 

You smirked softly. ''I was wondering if you'd like to go for a drive?''

He tilted his head and looked up at his preoccupied team. Then down at you. You nodded and looked out at the road. ''Maybe some silence and just... hanging out?'' Optimus hummed. Ever since you'd started hanging out you'd seemed to be able to read him like an unlocked data pad.

He hummed and nodded, ''Where would you like to go?'' You smiled, ''I have an idea.'' He nodded and walked with you to the end of the dusty lot. The barren road was covered in shadows with little light to cast. His form twisted and turned softly. The sounds of his plating easily shifting into place and folding was music to your ears, and soon his semi-truck form stood before you. You climbed into the open door and allowed the seatbelt to strap you in.

''Where are we going?''

You took hold of the wheel and Optimus drove. You would softly turn the wheel and guide Optimus along the road. You drove near the city and out onto another side road. Optimus hummed in interest as you drove him out into the grassy countryside. 

The tall grassy fields or rolling hills were empty and dark. Street lights stopped just outside of the road. Optimus examined his surroundings and continued until he reached a large, empty field. The field was bordering a wide span of trees. You motioned him to slow and hopped out of the driver's side. You made sure it was clear and he transformed. 

''Y/N? Where are we?''

You took in a deep breath of the fresh air and motioned him closer. ''I want to show you something, trust me.'' 

Optimus was hesitant but followed you into the ditch and the open field. You looked around and smiled. The dark early summer night was perfect. You stepped slowly out into the tall grassy hedges that reached up to your hips. Optimus watched you curiously. You turned back to him and sighed. ''Isn't it pretty?''

You looked up at the night sky. Dim and glistening with bright stars. Optimus ex-vented softly and sat on the side of the road with his pedes intruding on the field. ''It is. Your planet is wonderful...'' You smiled. ''It's nice to just get out into the night and be alone. Everything can weigh heavy on you sometimes. And sometimes you don't know what to do with it.''

Optimus looked at you. ''Ah, yes...''

You shrugged. ''Things don't always work, life isn't always easy. But for every bad thing that happens, you can only come out victorious right? If you think about it, each breath you take is a victory. And sometimes...'' You spread your arms along the grassy plain and spun around in a circle. 

The grass stirred and the blades of grass parted and lit up in a soft glow. Optimus' optics went wide as a zone of fireflies escaped from the grass and floated out into the air. His breath caught in his intake as he stood. He reached out his servo toward them but quickly pulled back in fear of hurting them.

''What..?''

You chuckled. ''Fireflies. Aren't they pretty?'' He looked back at the sky and nodded, ''Yes, they are...'' You spun around through more of the field and woke more of them from their perches. They sprung from the ground like a warm glowing blanket and curled around you and Optimus as they escaped the field. 

Optimus stepped carefully into the field and leaned down. He swept his servo through the grass, his optics lighting up like a sparkling's when the bugs drifted off into the sky. He kneeled and looked at you. ''Y/N...''

He smiled and chuckled. You approached and leaned on his thigh. Optimus looked up and watched the fireflies scatter and disappear back into the darkened night. ''I like to do this, it always acts as a silly little stress reliever.''

The Prime hummed. ''I understand why, it is... a magical experience.'' He held out his servo for you and you climbed on. You came closer to his face and reached out to touch him. ''Even the leader of the esteemed Autobots needs a break, y'know?''

''Thank you, Y/N.'' 

You leaned in and softly kissed the corner of his chipped mask plating. The warm metal was nice and the low hum of his spark was ever-present. He seemed a bit shocked by the action but embraced your gesture regardless.

You patted Optimus' plating and closed your eyes. 

He laid back against the ground and laid you on his chest. You looked up at the twinkling stars as a shooting star passed by the two of you. You hummed and wished in your head. The warm thrum of Optimus' spark from within its chamber warmed your back and released the tension in your muscles. 

#transformers #optimus prime #maccadam #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #transformers x reader #He's so cute yall #he needs a little alone time #but like with you

[indieyuugure]

Hey Indie, i have a question about your au (indie tmnt) karai is gonna be mutated into a mutant white worned viper like the 2012 séries or in an another animal?

Enjoy your time with your friend <3

Thank you! Yeah I had lot’s of fun! Always good to see an old friend ^v^ hopefully it won’t be so long till we see each other again.

Hm…well I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for a little while now, though I’m not totally 100% on it.

Idk yet how I want it to happen, the sketch on here has a situation like how Jennika was mutated, though I’ve thought maybe a 2012 Karai situation could be interesting too (like Leo brushes her fingertips but doesn’t quite grab her hand and she falls into a vat of mutagen anyway).

If I did do something like this though, it would definitely be temporary! As much as I love the idea of them both being turtles, the DNA situation is so…complicated and weird and I just really don’t wanna have to deal with it, plus it gives me an excuse for a plot where Donnie’s gotta figure out how to make retro-mutagen, which I could then use later, but who knows, I haven’t really thought about it too much.

Good question! :]

#tmnt #q&a #indie’s turtles #indie tmnt #ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #concept designs #plot ideas #idk

[14thcommander]

moment's silence || hange zoe x reader

cw: smut, 18+ ONLY. oral, dirty talk, age gap (8 years), reader is a baby gay, nb! hange, afab! reader. based on this post.

“Can I eat you out?”

The words escape from your mouth before you can stop them. Hange pauses the movie currently playing on the television before you – Jaws 2 would have to wait. It’s not like they were particularly invested in the narrative, anyway.

Hange was fine with this night going down a soft and romantic route, just cuddling on their sofa would be fine. Although this new path seems unexpected, they can’t hide the excitement in their eyes. They finally turn to look at you, eyes big and doe-like under the soft blue halo coming from the screen. They like you like this, soft and spontaneous. Youthful. The eight year gap that attempts to separate the two of you surely kicks in, sometimes. 

“Uh, sure. Why so out of the blue, though?” They ask, as a soft chuckle leaves their mouth. A soft hand finds its way towards your face, softly caressing your cheek. You shiver under the coldness of the silver rings wrapped around Hange’s thin fingers, and they pretend not to notice. 

“Um, I don’t know.” You giggle nervously under their gaze, aiming your stare towards the paused movie. There’s nothing special about thai night – except for the fact Hange is wearing a suit. The occasion called for it, apparently: a few hours earlier, you visited a new art gallery downtown.

After a beat or two of silence, you speak again: 

“I just really want to taste you.”

Your confession almost makes Hange moan out loud, which causes their teeth to sink on their bottom lip – not in a “I’m trying to seduce you” type of way, but in a “I have no words for this, and I don’t want to let my body react for me” way. 

Zoe is a few years older than you, much more experienced – in a few different ways. They’ve had their fair share of sleeping with beautiful women in their life… you, not so much. You were not a virgin when you met Hange, you just hadn’t realized until that point that your romantic and sexual interest went way far than just sleeping with men – and pretending to like it, most of the time. 

It’s been a couple of months since then: you’re taking things slow – or trying to. Hange wants to do this right, for you. They don’t want to scare you away, or overwhelm you. It does take a lot of self control when you pull shit like this, though. 

“So?” You ask, feeling your heart in your throat. There’s many thoughts clogging your brain right now: what if they don’t want this, what if I’m pushing them, was I too quick, or maybe too slow, I don’t know what I’m doing–

“Of course, princess.” They whisper, coming closer to you. 

Hange’s lips are soft against yours, delicate even. Their kiss never fails to sweep you off your feet, as you feel like you’re floating. You hum against the kiss, sliding your tongue against theirs. Eventually, you leave their lips unattained in order to place open-mouthed kisses on their neck. 

You climb on their lap, spreading your legs on top of them. This feels so good, Hange thinks. I should definitely say it out loud, let her know how good she is. Your curious hands travel through their body, warm and possessive: you travel this new territory with so much desire, it’s almost suffocating. All Zoe can come up with is a weak…

“Fuck” They whisper once you climb down from them, knees hitting the carpet beneath you. 

Shortly before opening their pants, you move the fabric of your dress down, so your tits are freed from its confinement. Is this the right move, though? Guys usually seemed to like it… I hope they don’t notice I have no idea what I’m doing, you think . 

“Is this okay?” You ask, looking up at them with darkened eyelashes. Hange can’t stop thinking about how they want to melt your makeup away, make a mess of you. Eventually, they think. Not tonight. 

“Yeah,” They reply, voice sounding hoarser than they intended “Go ‘head.”

With hunger dripping from your eyes, you move their pants down, along with the plain black boxer-style panties they were wearing. Meanwhile, Hange takes their blazer off and starts unbuttoning the white dress shirt they were wearing. 

“You’re so attractive.” You mumble, voice barely above a whisper, as you start heatedly placing kisses on Hange’s thighs. They sigh, as a pink tint starts blossoming on their cheeks. 

You mean it: Zoe has this unique appearance to them, one that just lures you in even more once you get to know them. Hange is everything you’ve ever wanted, but you still don’t have the heart to tell them that. 

Instead, what you do is place your hands on their knees, carefully spreading their legs and exposing what you’ve been dying to taste this whole night. Hange’s pussy is better than what you’ve been imagining for the past few months, better than what you’ve been picturing when playing with yourself. They’re not shaved or waxed, but they are carefully trimmed. You lick your lips in excitement when you realize how wet they are – and it’s all for you. 

You place a kiss on their clit, an experimental one. Then, another one. Looking up at them, you lick a single stripe from their entrance towards their needy clit. They taste good, so good. This is so much better than I expected, we should have done this before…

“Oh God, yeah, just like that.” They purr, voice sounding restrained and snapping you out of your thoughts, only to make you realize you’ve been making out with their clit. 

Experimentally, you suck on it, which causes Hange’s head to tall back against the sofa’s armrest. You part their lips to give you better access to their bundle of nerves, lapping at it – slowly, and then building up the speed and pressure. 

“Feels so good.” They whisper, hands gripping the back of your neck – and, for  a moment, Hange wonders if this is too much. Their worries go away as suddenly as they came when you moan against their pussy, diving even deeper between their thighs. 

Now, you’re sucking and slurping on them, nails carefully raking against the soft skin of their inner thighs, and Hange thinks – no, actually knows – this is what heaven feels like. With you, on your knees, willingly pleasuring them. They already feel addicted to you. 

Zoe looks like a mess: hair all over the place, glasses lowering on the bridge of their nose, and tanned skin sweaty. 

“Fuck, fuck.” they whine, moving their hips against your face – which seems to make you happy, given the fact you moan against their clit. “Yeah, I’m almost there, don’t stop.”

You tap on their thigh, showing you understand their request – you keep the same amount of speed and pressure, tongue moving against their now puffy clit relentlessly. 

A wave of white-hot feeling travels through Hange’s body, as their body convulses underneath your mouth. Their members go limp, relaxing underneath your touch. They cum choking on your name, letting out a final whine as you try to lick them clean. 

Hange grips your hair, removing you from in-between their legs. They pant, looking at you almost incredulously. 

“You good?” You ask, hair messy and face wet, smiling up at them. 

“Yeah. You?” They breathe, reaching for your body once again.

You nod, straddling their lap, as Hange pulls you in for a kiss. 

“Good. My turn now.”

#hange x y/n #hange x you #hange zoe x reader #hange smut #hange zoe smut #aot smut #hange x reader

[qwertyprophecy]

Update on The Dark Queen of Mortholme!

Phase one is now essentially completed for art, code and dialogue. Onwards to phase two; because every good boss fight needs that part where the boss gets unhinged and gains a whole new set of attacks.

I too have chosen to be unhinged and made a design for the Queen's final form that gobbles up animation work hours like nothing I've done before with pixel art.

Concept sketches under the cut:

Initially I didn't have any ideas beyond doing a more monstrous design that amps up the Queen's features and takes cues from the shapes and colours of her original spell animations. However after writing the dialogue leading up to the transformation I immediately landed on a specific concept.

The transformation is an outburst. It's a manifestation of the Queen's terror and defiance towards her approaching death. She's unraveling, and in doing so she's channeling more of her innate violent power that she doesn't usually let out. She's essentially been having a long argument with the Hero about who they believe they are. Thus far she's gotten by being all smug and detached, but now she's losing and forced to reveal more of her true self to continue.

So her final form's design should convey 1. an outburst, and 2. the unraveling of a false front. Her base design's spikes, hair and skirt all erupt out into the wilder shape language of her shadowy spell-tendrils. They can handily be used to draw the eye from all directions towards the center of her chest, where I wanted to have this cracking pattern, like something hidden inside her is coming out. It's bright as if blindingly powerful, yet the cracks make her seem more damaged and vulnerable than her base form.

Continuing with the theme of an inner self showing through, the skirt's interior is also more visible than before. The flared jellyfish-esque shape connects with the deep sea vibe of the tentacles and contributes to the drama of a nonhuman silhouette.

A big thing for the silhouette is of course the massive hands. What's the thematic explanation for those? Absolutely nothing, I just think they look cool and dangerous.

Finally, lot of asymmetry was also introduced, both to increase the visual interest of such a large sprite, and to make her look like she's really losing it.

---

A note on animating this monstrosity: I've been trying to come up with a whole lot of cheats to keep a complex sprite like this as animated as possible without spending the rest of my life making this game. Early on I decided she should float, just so her idle animation can also be a moving one.

Secondly, the sprite is cut up to pieces so that I can keep reusing the loop of the writhing tentacles while moving her hands, for example. This is not something I like doing because in believable animation, motion in one part of the body always affects the other parts of the body. Treating a character as one entire whole when animating will make them feel more tangible, but alas, it's a compromise to avoid spending a hundred years in pixel-pushing jail. Like, I would love to see those tendrils flutter around behind her as she swoops across the room for her attacks, but... it'll be a lot more reasonable to move her as little as possible and instead add oomph to her attacks with some effects animations.

Anyways thank you for reading about monstrosity, she might be a pain in the butt to move but she brings me joy

#I have not been very good at making this dev blogging a regular thing #busy enough making the game and whatnot else #but if you enjoy reading this then I'm glad! #pixel art #animation #character design #game development #the dark queen of mortholme

[mysticmunson]

here’s an idea i’d love to see you bring to life if it peaks your interest: alpha eddie and omega reader where it’s soon after they presented so her heat isn’t regulated yet and they are on a school trip or weekend away or something semi public like that and she gets her heat and obviously attracts the attention of other alphas in the school/area and he has to keep her safe/save her from said unruly alphas who want to mate her and he gets super protective and all strong alpha she’s mine vibes, that’s my thought, hope you like it xx

camp trails (alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader)

authors note: hi babes! thank you for the request, i love this idea and am a total simp for protective tropes. i have a small headache atm so i whipped this up fairly quickly, but i hope you enjoy! feedback and requests and welcomed :)

warnings: violence, sexual themes (18+)

The yearly trip to the camp grounds became mandatory for seniors this semester, making all the students dread the weekend afoot. Eddie had tried to wager with the teachers to allow him to drive himself, but he may have been the last person they would’ve allowed that to. 

The bus came to a screeching halt, catapulting the unguarded students to the seat in front of them, a sequence of groans following. The doors swung open, greeted by the rural spring air that blew in as they made their way out. 

Eddie grabbed your hand, walking out with you to observe his surroundings, nose scrunching at the cabins and broad lake. The water glistened with small ripples, some stray leaves floating on top with moss on the sides.

“Alright, line up!” Mr. Richmond hollered, diverting the attention to the man on top of the wooden block. A woman and a man stood on each side, wearing shirts with the camp's logo on it in teal font. The bag slung over your shoulder itched the bare skin there, shifting your shoulders uncomfortably.

There was a silent attendance being taken, the clipboard slotted in Mr. Richmond’s hands, a pen between his fingers as his eyes scanned the sea of 18 and 19 year olds, and one 20 year old with long brown hair.

“Now, we’ll go ahead and put our things away. Girls, you’ll be with Miss Carrie in the left cabin.” He instructed, the petite blonde waving, “And boys, you’ll be with Mr Anthony in the right cabin.” 

Separating, you wandered into the spacious wooden chamber, choosing a bottom bunk near the door. Robin snagged the bed above yours, spraying some extra perfume on and running her hand through her short hair.

The other girls joked about what beds they would own for the night, giggling and teasing one another, making you smile. Since presenting, you spent a lot of time with Eddie, which you adored, but sometimes being surrounded by feminine energy was refreshing. The tug on your hand that sent you walking snapped you from your daze, Robin yanking you to her side as she laughed at your aloofness. 

Joining the other students by the waterside, you felt lingering eyes on you while yours trained on the small snails going between the blades of debris. Crouching down, you sat gingerly on the damp grass, Robin joining beside you with less grace and a huff.

“Wonder how long it’ll be before a meathead starts a fight?” She pondered, glancing at the boys who were throwing around a football, their varsity jackets hung on a tree branch.

“At least we’ll get some entertainment.” You shrugged, plucking a small yellow flower from the unkept grounds, putting it behind your friend’s ear. She rolled her eyes, a pink flush coming across her cheeks nonetheless.

More students trickled out, bringing boomboxes and blankets, trying to make the most of this unwilling vacation. The squeak of combat boots came from behind you, glancing back to see your boyfriend, sitting and pulling you against his body. 

Robin fake gagged, now used to this behavior from the two of you, but choosing to see where Vicky had run off to. Leaning against his shoulder, the heat was radiating off his black shirt, his arms not covered in jackets for once due to the warm air. 

“Can’t believe we have to stay in separate rooms.” He complained, a pout on his lips that you desperately wanted to kiss away. 

“I know, but it’s school rules and it’ll just be a night.” You assured, patting his thigh through his black jeans, noticing the way his muscles relaxed. 

Meals were provided, just some sandwiches and chips, while a snack table did remain stocked. You sat with Eddie, Robin, and Vicky, sharing your joint disdain for the trip entirely. There was peace in knowing others were suffering in a similar fashion, not wanting to be the odd one out.

Separate pockets of students began ways to occupy themselves, Eddie joining a card game with fellow nerds and you went to paint with some of the other girls on the other part of the land. Unwarranted nerves pooled in your stomach, attributing it to being away from home, focusing on the task at hand instead.

Dipping a thin paint brush into the small jar of water that was now murky with blended colors, you began a simple skyline, adding unrealistic clouds of white. The girls around you were within arms reach, sat on the same tattered blanket, but somehow they couldn’t feel farther. 

The inescapable loneliness that followed presenting wasn’t something you expected, but you were one of the first omegas in your year, something that made you different. It wasn’t easy to explain the alterations that came with presenting, both mentally and physically, causing a silent divide to your peers.

“I think I’m gonna go for a walk.” You announced, tilting your head towards the walking trail ahead, dim lights illuminating it. They affirmed nonchalantly, going back to their art and discussing which boy the thought would present next. 

Stray fireflies joined you on your journey, tightening your jacket around your frame as a stick broke under your sneakers. Spotting a garden snake slithering by in the bushes, you smiled at how it reminded you of Eddie and his infatuation with reptiles. He was the type of kid to read books about the scaly creatures, knowing which were poisonous or harmless.

While he had been your best friend for many years, the newfound deeper connection made you feel conjoined. It felt odd to be away from him for too long, wanting to hear every detail of his day, from what shaving cream he used to what song he listened to in the car.

The sharp pain targeted your lower abdomen again, wincing as your eyes screwed shut. Your breath quickened as the air seemed to grow warmer, a sweat breaking as you looked around, until you felt a dampness under your dress.

All senses were replaced with fear and need, sitting on an old tree stump with your legs pulled to your chest. Your heat had just come 2 weeks ago, convincing yourself this must be a false one, but all the symptoms were analogous to those. 

“Hey there.” You heard a low voice, seeing a boy from your English class named Jackson, sauntering closer. “Did you get lost?”

You remained silent as you remembered he had just presented as an alpha, having missed the beginning of the month for it. As if on cue, the sound of leaves crunching brought two more new alpha’s, Luke and Noah.

Gulping, you stood up, toying with the bottom of your dress as your eyes turned glossy. The slick was pooling in your underwear at this point, knowing it couldn’t be long till it trickled down your leg, squeezing your thighs in a pointless attempt to gain control. 

“Need some help, gorgeous?” Luke smirked, inhaling deeply as he managed to walk you back into the large oak tree, birds shuffling out from the bundles of leaves. Instincts kicked in as you bolted, hoping to find an easy exit with the boys hot on your tail, yelling. 

Meanwhile, Eddie had been engrossed in a game of poker when he smelt it, the hairs on his arms standing straight up as he tried to shake it off. Figuring it had to be another student, he finished the round, huffing at his loss of a smuggled can of beer.

The girls you had joined to paint with were walking to the cafeteria table, setting them to dry as he approached, questioning where you were as he didn’t even spot an extra canvas.

“She went for a walk, some boys went after her a few minutes ago because it was getting dark.” Tasha quipped, lighting a dusty candle on the table, illuminating the glossy artwork. 

His feet went quicker than his mind as he cursed to himself, heart plummeting at the fear you were alone, stopping at the payphone to tell Jeff to take his car and Gareth to drive his van over and head back in Jeff’s. The trail was bigger than he thought, leading to various points in the park, trying to depend on his inclinations. 

Avoiding the designated trail, he chose the unruly woods within it as he tried to find a shortcut. As each footprint was ingrained in the dirt, his indignation for this trip and scenario further solidified. 

His movement was stopped when he heard a sharp yelp, sprinting despite the restrictive denim on his legs and weight of his boots. Once back on the trail, he kept his eyes peeled in all directions with clenched fists. The scent was more poignant now, knowing it was you who it belonged to, making his fear grow alongside the anger.

The sound of struggle carried through the trees before he finally found you, a peer with his arms wrapped around your waist with restricted arms as the other two tried meaningless attempts to calm you. 

“Hey!” Eddie shouted, stomping over with such feverishness that the boy's all looked towards him, feeling the grip around you tighten, “Put her down.”

“Or what? I think the lady needs help, finders keepers, freak.” Noah sneered, standing in front of the boy who held you, but his powerful stance didn’t last long as a punch landed on his right cheek. 

Another set of hands grabbed the back of Eddie’s collar, but the pure protective fury burning made him quickly turn and punch the other one down too. He put his hands around the neck of the one holding you, the man beginning to yell.

While these boys could take a hit, they saw the blind rage in Eddie’s eyes, not wanting to discover what he was capable of. It was one of the only perks about being the town freak, you were infamous enough to be gossiped about, but outlandish enough to be whatever you needed to be in the moment.

“Try that shit again with her or any other girl and I will make you an early grave.” He gritted as they clutched their afflictions, “She is my fucking omega and if you even look in her direction, I will make your life a living hell.” 

The boys looked bewildered as he turned around, wondering if he’d freak out again on them, but his focus was on you, rushing you away. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asked, seeing how your focus was on your direct eyesight before you, not wavering to any other location. The tremble in your hands as he grabbed it only increased the farther you got to the exit. 

Wordlessly scooping you in his arms, you finally allowed yourself to cry, the saltiness traveling down your cheeks and to your lips. Everything became muffled as you descended into your own headspace, embracing Eddie’s aroma that felt more prevalent than ever. 

Unbeknownst to you, Robin rushed towards you both as Eddie asked for her to grab your bag. Seeing the sternness on his features and your fragile state, she complied without witt, rushing to the cabins. 

Grateful to have called the boys, the keys to his own van were set on his bunk as he raced in, glad to not see any classmates. Quickly grabbing his bag, he marched over to his prized possession, yanking open the door to put you down. Robin came running with your own things, tossing it into the back seat and mentioning how she’ll inform a teacher on where you went.

“You gotta let go, baby. I just need to walk to the other side.” He consoled, trying to ease your placement from his neck, “Good girl.”

He jogged over, your frame already condensed into a ball, laying on your side with a slant due to the seatbelt. Kicking the car on, he tried obeying as many laws as he could consider, but his main focus was getting you somewhere safe.

He gave you his nightshirt from his bag, letting you simulate a nest until returning to the trailer park. A calming hand stroked your back lovingly, hushing your sounds of discontentment. 

The arrival didn’t register in your brain until you were being tossed on Eddie’s blue sheets, eyes opening wide to take in your surroundings for a brief moment until his lips were on yours. 

The taste on his tongue would never lose its power on you, feeling like you were discovering the eighth wonder of the world every time it trailed against your skin, making you come to peace with the safety created by him in the world of just the two of you. 

“You’re my girl, my omega, I’m never going to let anyone hurt you.” He whispered, kissing your blazing skin as he undid your clothes, undoing any barrier you had internally with his words.

While each heat was overwhelming, there were always moments that brought you into a version of purgatory, not feeling neutral or spacey, or grounded. An area within our galaxy where you both were the only inhabitants, aliens to the outside world, but making perfect sense within them.

The language you conversed in belonged to your bodies, unable to process the communication outside of those times, finding your bodies knew each other long before your meeting years ago. You wondered if this feeling was common with every mating pair, but as you looked into his doe-brown eyes, you knew there was no way a world could be so cruel if they felt like this at least once in their lifetime.

taglist plus friends/people i saw enjoyed my other work :) let me know if you'd like to not be tagged: @elizabethmidnight2017 @iheartyouyou @forksloree @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @sillypurplemurple @prettyboyeddiemunson @andvys @funsonmunson-again @ceriseheaven @indouloureux @lilacletter @edsforehead @akiratoro420 @corkadymu

#elora writes #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson gif #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things s4 #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female oc #alpha!eddie munson #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #a/b/o universe #a/o/b #a/b/o stranger things #a/b/o smut

[rockalillygirl]

Mamma mia here we go again…

So I have more thoughts because apparently there’s no bottom to the murderbot mindhole I’ve fallen down.

(Spoiler warning- minor stuff from several of the books, pls check tags etc.)

I’ve been reading a lot of things recently exploring Murderbot as an unreliable narrator, which I think is a cool result of System Collapse (because we all know our beloved MB is going through it in this one). There’s also been some interesting related discussion of MB’s distrust of and sometimes biased assessment/treatment of other constructs and bots.

And I’ve been reading a lot about CombatUnits! And I want to talk about them!!

Main thoughts can be summarized as follows:

We don’t see a lot about CombatUnits in the books, and I think what we do see from MB’s pov encourages the reader to view them as less sympathetic than other constructs.

I’m very skeptical of this portrayal for reasons.

The existence of CombatUnits makes me fucking sad and I have a lot of feelings about them!

I got introduced to the idea of MB as an unreliable narrator in a post by onironic It analyzes how in SC, MB seems to distrust Three to a somewhat unreasonable degree, and how it sometimes infantilizes Three or treats it the way human clients have treated it in the past. The post is Amazing and goes into way more detail, so pls go read it (link below):

https://www.tumblr.com/onironic/736245031246135296?source=share

So these ideas were floating around in my brain when I read an article Martha Wells recently published in f(r)iction magazine titled “Bodily Autonomy in the Murderbot Diaries”. I’ll link the article here:

(Rn the only way to access the article is to subscribe to the magazine or buy an e-copy of the specific issue which is $12)

In the article, Wells states that MB displaced its fear of being forced to have sex with humans onto the ComfortUnit in Artificial Condition. I think it’s reasonable to assume that MB also does this with other constructs. With Three, I think it’s more that MB is afraid if what it knows Three is capable of, or (as onironic suggests in their post and I agree with) some jealousy that Three seems more like what humans want/expect a rogue SecUnit to be.

But I want to explore how this can be applied to CombatUnits, specifically.

We don’t learn a lot about them in the books. One appears for a single scene in Exit Strategy, and that’s it. What little else we know comes from MB’s thoughts on them sprinkled throughout the series. To my knowledge, no other character even mentions them (which raises interesting questions about how widely-known their existence is outside of high-level corporate military circles).

When MB does talk about CombatUnits in the early books, it’s as a kind of boogeyman figure (the real “murderbots” that even Murderbot is afraid of). And then when one does show up in ES, it’s fucking terrifying! There’s a collective “oh shit” moment as both MB and the reader realize what it’s up against. Very quickly what we expect to be a normal battle turns into MB running for its life, desperately throwing up hacks as the CombatUnit slices through them just as fast. We and MB know that it wouldn’t have survived the encounter if its humans hadn’t helped it escape. So the CombatUnit really feels like a cut above the other enemies in the series.

And what struck me reading that scene was how the CombatUnit acts like the caricature of an “evil robot” that MB has taught us to question. It seems single-mindedly focused on violence and achieving its objective, and it speaks in what I’d call a “Terminator-esque” manner: telling MB to “Surrender” (like that’s ever worked) and responds to MB’s offer to hack its governor module with “I want to kill you” (ES, pp 99-100).

(Big tangent: Am I the only one who sees parallels between this and how Tlacey forces the ComfortUnit to speak to MB in AC? She makes it suggest they “kill all the humans” because that’s how she thinks constructs talk to each other (AC, pp 132-4). And MB picks up on it immediately. So why is that kind of talk inherently less suspicious coming from a CombatUnit than a ComfortUnit? My headcanon is that I’m not convinced the CombatUnit was speaking for itself. What if a human controller was making it say things they thought would be intimidating? Idk maybe I’ve been reading too many fics where CombatUnits are usually deployed with a human handler. There could be plenty of reasons why the CombatUnit would’ve talked like that. I’m just suspicious.)

(Also, disclaimer: I want to clarify before I go on that I firmly believe that even though MB seems to be afraid of CombatUnits and thinks they’re assholes, it would still advocate for them to have autonomy. I’m not trying to say that either MB or Wells sees CombatUnits as less worthy of personhood or freedom- because I feel the concept that “everything deserves autonomy” is very much at the heart of the series.)

So it’s clear from all of this that MB is scared of CombatUnits and distrusts them for a lot of reasons. I read another breathtaking post by @grammarpedant that gives a ton of examples of this throughout the books and has some great theories on why MB might feel this way. I’ll summarize the ones here that inspired me the most, but pls go read the original post for the full context:

https://www.tumblr.com/grammarpedant/703920247856562177?source=share

OP explains that SecUnits and CombatUnits are pretty much diametrically opposed because of their conflicting functions: Security safeguards humans, while Combat kills them. Of course these functions aren’t rigid- MB has implied that it’s been forced to be violent towards humans before, and I’m sure that extracting/guarding important assets could be a part of a CombatUnit's function. But it makes sense that MB would try to distance itself from being considered a CombatUnit, using its ideas about them to validate the parts of its own function that it likes (protecting people). OP gives what I think is the clearest example of this, which is the moment in Fugitive Telemetry when MB contrasts its plan to sneak aboard a hostile ship and rescue some refugees with what it calls a “CombatUnit” plan, which would presumably involve a lot more murder (FT, p 92).

This reminds me again of what Wells said in the f(r)iction article, that on some level MB is frightened by the idea that it could have been made a ComfortUnit (friction, p 44). I think the idea that it could’ve been a CombatUnit scares it too, and that’s why it keeps distinguishing itself and its function from them. But I think it’s important to point out, that in the above example from FT, even MB admits that the murder-y plan it contrasts with its own would be one made by humans for CombatUnits. So again we see that we just can’t know much about the authentic nature of CombatUnits, or any constructs with intact governor modules, because they don’t have freedom of expression. MB does suggest that CombatUnits may have some more autonomy when it comes to things like hacking and combat which are a part of their normal function. But how free can those choices be when the threat of the governor module still hangs over them?

I think it could be easy to fall into the trap of seeing CombatUnits as somehow more complicit in the systems of violence in the mbd universe. But I think that’s because we often make a false association between violence and empowerment, when even in our world that’s not always the case. But, critically, this can’t be the case for CombatUnits because they’re enslaved in the same way SecUnits and ComfortUnits are (though the intricacies are different).

There was another moment in the f(r)iction article that I found really chilling. Wells states that there’s a correlation between SecUnits that are forced to kill humans and ones that go rogue (friction, p 45). It’s a disturbing thought on its own, but I couldn’t help wondering then how many CombatUnits try to hack their governor modules? And what horrible lengths would humans go to to stop them? I refuse to believe that a CombatUnit’s core programming would make it less effected by the harm its forced to perpetrate. That might be because I’m very anti-deterministic on all fronts, but I just don’t buy it.

I’m not entirely sure why I feel so strongly about this. Of course, I find the situation of all constructs in mbd deeply upsetting. But the more I think about CombatUnits, the more heartbreaking their existence seems to me. There’s a very poignant moment in AC when MB compares ART’s function to its own to explain why there are things it doesn’t like about being a SecUnit (AC, p 33). In that scene, MB is able to identify some parts of its function that it does like, but I have a hard time believing a CombatUnit would be able to do the same. I’m not trying to say that SecUnits have it better (they don’t) (the situation of each type of construct is horrible in it’s own unique way). It’s just that I find the idea of construct made only for violence and killing really fucking depressing. I can’t even begin to imagine the horror of their day-to-day existence.

@grammarpedant made another point in their post that I think raises a TON of important questions not only about CombatUnits, but about how to approach the idea of “function” when it comes to machine intelligence in general. They explain that, in a perfect version of the mbd universe, there wouldn’t be an obvious place for CombatUnits the way there could be for SecUnits and ComfortUnits who wanted to retain their original functions. A better world would inherently be a less violent one, so where does that leave CombatUnits? Would they abandon their function entirely, or would they find a way to change it into something new?

I’ve been having a lot of fun imagining what a free CombatUnit would be like. But in some ways it’s been more difficult than I expected. I’ve heard Wells say in multiple interviews that one of her goals in writing Murderbot was to challenge people to empathize with someone they normally wouldn’t, and I find CombatUnits challenging in exactly that way. Sometimes I wonder if I would’ve felt differently about these books if MB had been a CombatUnit instead of a SecUnit. Would I have felt such an immediate connection to MB if its primary function before hacking its governor module had been killing humans, or if it didn’t have relatable hobbies like watching media? Or if it didn’t have a human face for the explicit purpose of making people like me more comfortable? I’m not sure that I would have.

Reading SC has got me interested in exploring the types of people that humans (or even MB itself) would struggle to accept. So CombatUnits are one of these and possible alien-intelligences are another. All this is merely a small sampling of the thoughts that have been swirling around in my brain-soup! So if anyone is interested in watching me fumble my way through these concepts in more detail, I may be posting “something” in the very near future!

Would really appreciate anyone else’s thoughts about all of THIS^^^^ It’s been my obsession over the holidays and helping me cope with family stress and flying anxiety.

#murderbot diaries #murderbot meta #artificial condition #exit strategy #fugitive telemetry #system collapse #murderbot spoilers #combat unit #FEELINGS #i blink and then it's 2000 words later #jesus christ

[gruesomegateau]

Killers and their s/o's pets

some general headcanons for how killers (Hillbilly/Wraith/Spirit/Huntress) would interact with an S/O's pet and how they would feel about various animals.

Max Thompson Jr / The Hillbilly

Max is not great with a lot of animals. Not all of them, but a lot of common domestic animals. A dog or pretty much any farm animal is going to be pretty tough to get him to do anything more than tolerate. He won't hurt them or anything, but he's going to try his best to avoid acknowledging that they're there at all.

Max is fully aware that the way he views these animals isn't fair- they're animals, after all, its not like they've wronged him on purpose. But his negative associations towards them is strong.

Other animals, however, Max is fine with. He might even be okay with small dogs like pugs or shih tzus, as they barely even resemble the police dogs that lead to his dislike of dogs as a whole.

Max likes cats. Partially because the cartoons that provided him small solace from his otherwise horrid life, but he also just enjoys watching the way they move and climb. Is completely unbothered by cats bringing in dead mice or snakes. Might even pet them for doing a 'good job'.

That said, Max also gets... jealous easily. He has a lot of insecurities around the idea of people like his parents valuing animals like pigs more than him.

Just know that if you're giving your pet affection in front of Max, Max is going to want affection to. Just some reassurance that you value him, too.

Max also finds insects to be interesting. He doesn't really like flies, he's seen enough of them and heard enough of their buzzing for a lifetime, but if his S/O keeps things like beetles or butterflies, Max will find that pretty neat. And, another big plus for Max, there's not really much of a way to show affection to or receive affection from an insect, so there's not much for him to get jealous over.

Fish fall into a similar category to insects, especially since Max hasn't really seen that many fish in-person before: not alive ones, anyway.

Philip Ojomo / The Wraith

Philip is good with most animals! He used to leave food in his garage for stray cats, so he has a fondness of cats in particular.

Animals also just like Philip. An old junker dog at Autohaven would bark and growl at every other employee as they came in, but not Philip. After he entered the realm and became 'The Wraith', the crows also seemed to have an affinity towards him, though those aren't exactly 'real' animals.

Still! Philip is fond of most animals and most animals are fond of him. Animals he's not familiar with he's more than happy to learn about.

Leave him alone with an animal and when you come back he will probably be cooing over it and talking to it. Stops being so affectionate when he realizes he's no longer alone.

Not that Philip's trying to hide his fondness of the pet, he'll still pet it and talk fondly of it in front of people, but its more reserved than when he's alone.

Rin Yamaoka / The Spirit

Rin's pretty average with her feelings on and interactions with animals. Likes your standard stuff, is a bit more hesitant with more unusual pets, like snakes or spiders.

Would really like a dog if thats what her S/O's pet is, if her financial situation in life allowed it she would have liked to have one herself, but she's a bit more hesitant now, worried a dog might run off with one of her floating limbs.

Other than that, Rin also gets a bit worried about being affectionate with anything, animals especially. At least with affection towards her S/O, they both know to be cautious of the glass imbedded in Rin's skin, but a lot of animals might not always know better.

Because of this, Rin's more reserved with giving pets or physical affection towards animals, but will give them a lot of silly, affectionate nicknames.

Anna / The Huntress

If you have a pet, you need to establish that with Anna well before introducing her to it.

Its not that the idea of a pet is entirely foreign to Anna; She's seen hunting dogs, and vaguely can recall wishing for one of her own as a young girl.

But that time has long passed, and her default view of anything other than herself and children is 'prey'. Establishing that this particular animal is not prey before introducing Anna to it is best to prevent any misconceptions from taking root in the back of her mind.

Naturally very curious about animals. Observing animals to learn their behaviors and weak points is engrained into her- of course, she won't hurt your pet on purpose once its established to her that it is your pet, but the way she watches it will still feel like a predator stalking its prey.

If you have a dog, she will want to try to use it as a hunting dog. Might be disappointed if its not a kind of dog that can easily be trained to do that, or is just too small for it.

She'll be a bit lost on how to interact with a cat initially, but comes to understand their behavior rather quickly. They're hunters, too, but prefer to hunt alone unlike dogs. She finds it respectable. Will be extremely delighted by a cat bringing back dead mice or snakes; She understands it as the cat bringing back food it hunted for its family. It might not be much of a meal for humans, but she can appreciate the sentiment of it.

Not going to be very affectionate to any animal at first because she isn't sure how to be. Anna will pretty quickly pick up on how her S/O shows affection to their pet and mimic that, though her petting of animals tends to have a bit more force behind it then needed.

Generally likes pets that are predator rather than prey- ironic, considering her rabbit mask. She likes an animal that can help hunt or defend itself.

#dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #the huntress x reader #the hillbilly x reader #the wraith x reader #the spirit x reader #first post first writing! #tried to write a good amount for all four of them but there was just more in my brain for some than others.

[petday]

where do you find inspiration/ideas for your structure drawings? I adore them a lot . Thank you in advance and have a good day!

The black and white structure drawings? It's part 'movement' and part 'things floating around in my thoughts.' For example, https://petday.tumblr.com/post/726142925605601280 I was thinking a bit of 'enjoyment of drawing weasel shape' and feeling 'threatened' and then a tall 'ammunition' shape grew behind the weasel. The lines that converge into a dot are inspired by the thought of 'heavy machinery with small laser' and relates to the 'danger' feeling but also to the 'self-defence of a small animal' feeling. Mix of focus on movement of my hand/tablet pen and drawing thoughts as they come instead of thinking ahead.

More about movement; https://petday.tumblr.com/post/726786010632142848 There's a small part here near the bottom middle that looks like a row of people walking towards a cliff and climbing on it; I was not thinking of that imagery while drawing it but the 'ascending' and 'small curls' motion of my pen caused such an impression, so it happened to look as such. You can get interesting shapes with infinite combinations of subtle movements of your fingers/hand/wrist/shoulder and you can notice what feeling you associate with certain movements, and see what marks it creates on the page, it's fun... I mostly make those drawings when I don't want to consciously think about anything in my life. But people are always subconsciously thinking and making connections between things, no matter how sparse and loose, so there are always shapes that resemble something. Maybe try drawing a shape of something you like and then draw some lines radiating from it and go follow the feeling those lines give you...

[kindaasrikal]

“This, is a soul stone.”

“A…soul stone?”

“Yes. Once a soul leaves its physical form they create a soul stone to keep their…ghost-like form intact. This soul stone is surrounded by the actual projection of ourselves, similar to how a heart is encased inside the body. It cannot be taken out easily. In fact, the only ones who can remove anyones soul stone from their physical projection is the First spinjitzu master, Sensei Wu, Sensei Garmadon, and the consciousnesses of the two realms of the dead. Other then them, not even the person whose soul stone it is can remove it from it’s home, and its no easy task for the ones who can either.”

“…If all of that is true, then how are we both looking at your soul stone?”

“….Unfortunately, my soul stone had faced extreme abuse years ago, leaving it fractured and….weak.”

“Is that why it has pieces floating around it? It looks almost like a planet, surrounded by its moons…”

“An interesting comparison.”

“Ahm…that’s besides the point. Why are you showing me this? If its so delicate that it can almost never be removed from its home, then why would it help us in our mission?”

“…the merge, has shown to create unique consequences over the years. One of such, being the slow return of the Preeminent.”

“What.”

“I can’t explain in too much depth to what had happened, we don’t nearly have that much time and I need to use it sparingly.”

“What are you talking about?!-”

“A soul stone is indeed delicate, Lloyd. So delicate, so precious, that the very existence of a soul relies on it.”

“The..what?..”

“If my soul stone gets into the wrong hands, if it faces too much harm, I will no longer be able to keep it connected and in ‘one piece’ as I have so far. I will be erased from existence, and so will all the knowledge I have so painstakingly collected.”

“…Where are you planning to go, Morro?”

“…A place I should’ve visited years ago.”

——————

Will there be a fanfic of this? Probably not, since i can’t stick to finishing stories.

Anyways, take Morro from an AU i created in my head, theres no other content of it other then half completed stories in my notes/word documents and this post.

If anyone rlly wants me to, i can go more into depth of this AU and give it a name. But for now, all you need to know is that its mainly canon compliant, just with a few changes to the story of Morro and then the actual canon divergence starts during the merge. Some things before that will also be changed to fit ideas i have and things i like, such as the issue with Lloyds age.

Oh, alsooo! Morro in this drawing is still a ghost, but in this AU to differentiate departed ghosts from cursed, cursed ghosts look like how they did in the show and Morro’s og design, but departed ghosts tend to look more like how they did when they were alive (with some differences and yknow, being see- through)

So Morro in this looks like how his Departed ghost form would in this AU

I also realised that the gi itself looks a lot like Cole’s because of the black and orange. Pretend the orange is grey/green/yellow, pls and thank you.

AND MY FAVOURITE LITTLE DETAIL. Look at Morro’s gi and how its folded, see what i did there??

I had fun drawing this with another newly acquired art style, this is also one of my first few times drawing Morro and being happy with it. Turns out i am very picky when drawing characters i like over literally anything else.

#morro ninjago #lego ninjago #morro wu #lego emo #green #ninjago morro #lloyd ninjago #ninjago fanart #green ninja #ninjago au

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Here’s a request for Abraham as I only just found out who he is and I already would let him spit on me. He’s in the pub where he sees a girl with big boobs and a cheeky grin, he follows her out. Maybe she leads him to the stables? And he fucks her good and hard against the hay. However, just as he’s about to pull his pants up. He falls on the ground due to reader and she rides him like a pony. Maybe some dirty talk and against the hay he chokes her but while she’s riding him she chokes him. You decide how to interpret this and where it goes from there. Hope you have fun writing!

Hello! First off I'd like to thank you for your patience - I'm sorry it's taken me over two months to fulfil this request, I am slow and I have a lot to work through. Secondly, this request is absolutely bonkers, but I've done my best to fulfil it in my own style. I hope that you enjoy it.

Warnings: Infidelity, choking, fingering, smut. Word count: ~2.6k

It’s a bright and sunny July afternoon on Grantchester Village Green. The sounds of a brass band playing and children’s laughter float on the breeze, yet she is bored. It’s the Village’s annual church fête and every Grantchester resident has turned up to take part and lend a hand. Mr. Ruskin has lent a donkey from his farm to give rides to the children, there’s a tombola offering up various prizes of assorted chocolates and cuddly toys, and games of boules and cornholing have been laid out across the Green, under reams of brightly coloured bunting. She feels like she could scream from the civility of it all.

“Fetch you some more squash?” Robbie asks with a soft smile, gesturing towards her with his empty paper cup.

“No. I’m alright, thanks, love.” She replies, stiffening uncomfortably as he places a chaste kiss to her cheek before heading off in the direction of the refreshment stand.

It’s all so bland. She can’t stomach another cup of tea, another orange squash, another egg and cress sandwich. Worst of all, she’s not sure how much more of Robbie she can stand. They have been courting for almost a year - the perfect match in every sense - he is the Vicar’s son, polite, gentle, and inoffensive. She is the daughter of the head of the Village committee; pretty, well mannered and kind.

Truthfully, she finds Robbie painfully dull. He isn’t bad looking and doesn’t treat her unkindly, he is just unambitious and set in his ways. She had agreed to go steady with him because it was what was expected of her. He’d taken her by surprise when he’d expressed the desire to sleep with her three months into their relationship, and for the first time in all the years they’d known each other she’d actually found herself excited by him. That was until they did the deed and he’d rutted atop her with all the enthusiasm of a captain going down with his ship.

She’s heard the murmurs around the Village, the rumours that he plans to propose. Robbie hasn’t exactly been subtle about it either, the way he gawks in the window of the jewellers makes dread sink in her stomach like a stone, not just at the idea of him asking her to marry him, but the fact that she knows she’ll say yes. It’s what her father wants for her, and living somewhere so small, where everyone knows everyone and all their business, she doesn’t want the reputation of the girl that broke a good Christian boy’s heart.

A future as Mrs. Robert Chambers, wife of the vicar’s son, Village postmistress, daughter of the head of the Village committee. Boring, boring, boring.

Life in Grantchester had suddenly become more interesting when he had rolled into the village; part of the Romani settlement that had taken refuge in one of Mr. Ruskin’s fields. The locals had treated them with suspicion and hostility, such was the attitude to newcomers, especially travellers. However, something about him intrigued her; his slicked back hair, dazzling blue eyes and cocky smirk made her heart race, worsened by the fact that whenever she’d seen him around he always managed to catch her eye and send her reeling with a wink. 

She’d never dared to speak to him, yet she feels her breath hitch as she notices him and five of the other Romani men approaching the Green.

“Here comes trouble.” She hears her father sigh as he steps forward to approach them.

She gently grabs his arm. “Dad, leave it,” She pleads. “They haven’t done anything.”

“Not yet anyway.” Robbie says as he returns from the refreshment stand with a refilled drink.

“They’ve as much right to be here as anyone else.” She fires back, watching as the group sit themselves on nearby picnic benches.

“I’d like to see what sort of contribution they’ve made to the Church or Village.” Her father mutters darkly.

As if on cue, the eldest of the group stands from the picnic bench and walks over to Mr. Chambers, depositing a handful of coins into the money box he holds. 

“There’s fifty pence from each of us there.” He tells the Vicar.

“Very generous of you, thank you.” Mr. Chambers responds with a bow of his head.

“See?” She says to her father. “Just leave them.”

As the afternoon progresses, the group is rowdier than anyone else at the fête. The sounds of their jeering and raucous laughing drowns out the tuba and trumpets of the band, earning them glares from everyone else in attendance. However, they keep to themselves, doing nothing more scandalous than using the picnic benches to arm wrestle one another.

She’s taking a walk around by herself, watching a group of children toss bean bags at each other with squeals and shrieks when she spots him, leaning against an outbuilding and swigging from a labeless brown glass bottle.

He winks at her when he sees her and she feels her cheeks heat up.

“Having fun?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Not really.” She says with a soft laugh.

“Tea and sarnies not your thing then?” He smirks at her and it sets off a fluttering in her lower belly.

“I can’t imagine it’s yours either.” She says with a shrug. “What’s your lot doing here?”

He sniffs, taking another swig from his bottle and offering it to her. Tentatively she takes it from him, a shiver running through her as their fingers brush for the briefest of moments.

“We’re moving on tomorrow. Figured we’d come pay our respects before we push off.”

She is unable to mask her disappointment at this revelation, her eyes widening as her heart sinks. “Tomorrow?! You’re leaving..?”

He leans in, his blue eyes locking with hers. “You gonna miss us?”

She takes a long drink from the bottle in order to avoid having to answer the question, spluttering around the acrid burn of the liquid in her throat.

He chuckles, taking it back from her as she coughs and wipes her mouth. “Pal’s home brew. Put hairs on your chest, that will.”

She whips around when she hears Robbie calling out for her.

“Go on then, run back to your little boyfriend.” She has to suppress a gasp as she feels the hotness of his breath against the shell of her ear, how closely he’s moved behind her in order to lean down and whisper to her.

She swallows thickly, walking away before turning back to him. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Abraham.” He tells her, with a mock two fingered salute.

“Nice to meet you, Abraham. I’m-”

“-oh I know who you are. Seen you around.” He interrupts, eyes roving over her form appreciatively.

She bites her lip, feeling the heat return to her cheeks and turns back to rejoin Robbie and her father.

The next hour passes uneventfully, until she hears raised voices coming from the area where the donkey rides are being given. Curious, she moves closer to see what’s happening. She’s surprised when she sees Abraham squaring up to Mr. Ruskin.

“It’s my animal, I think I know best how to look after it.” The farmer says angrily.

“And all I’m saying is that if you’re gonna have the poor fucker carting kids back and forth all day, the least you can do is give it a drink!” Abraham spits back.

The two men stare each other down, until eventually Abraham turns around and walks away. She thinks he has left and is bitterly dismayed that she hasn’t had the opportunity to speak to him more, when fifteen minutes later he turns with a bucket of water, setting it down near the donkey’s hay bales.

Mr. Ruskin grumbles at this, telling Abraham to clear off, but makes no moves to take the water away. She smiles at this, she knows nothing about this mysterious man, yet it’s endearing to see how he cares for animals.

She doesn’t see him again for the rest of the day and it’s only as things start to get packed down for the evening that she realises his group has left. The bucket remains where Abraham left it and she decides she’ll return it to him, emptying the water out onto the grass before turning to let her father and Robbie know what she intends to do.

She thinks better of it as she sees the two of them grappling with the hinges of a long folding table, struggling to collapse it. Probably for the best that they don’t know where she’s going. She takes the bucket, heading off in the direction of the farm.

Abraham isn’t hard to find. He stands in a stall of the stable, running a brush along the back of a chestnut coloured thoroughbred. He is bathed in the orange glow of early summer evening, the dying sunlight plays upon the sharpness of his features, making him appear ethereal.

“He’s beautiful.” She says, making sure it’s the horse she nods towards as she approaches.

Abraham grins when he sees her, continuing to brush out the horse’s coat. “He’s alright. Still needs a bit of work, but he’s fast. Should be fit for racing soon.”

“Mr. Ruskin doesn’t mind you keeping your horses in his stables?” 

He laughs drily, tossing the brush to one side and stepping out of the stall. “He told us to. Pitched a fit when he saw the state they were making of his field.”

She nods in understanding, watching as he brushes his hands off on his trousers.

“So what brings you to me?” He asks, leaning against the door of an empty stall and eyeing her closely.

“Oh,” She steps forward, holding out the bucket. “You left this. Thought you might want it back.”

He takes it from her with a smirk. “Right, because Ruskin couldn’t have brought this with him when he brought the donkey back…”

She feels herself grow hot again, opening and closing her mouth as she struggles to formulate a response.

“Why are you really here?” He closes the gap between them, a predatory glint in his eye.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She whispers, feeling arousal seep between her legs, warm and sticky, as he grips her lightly by the tops of her arms, turning her and backing her into the empty stall.

“I think you do.” He says lowly, fingertips tracing her jawline, the pad of his thumb passes slowly across her bottom lip, pulling slightly. “See, I think that little boyfriend of yours isn’t fucking you the way you’d like him to, so you thought you’d come see if I could do a better job.”

“N-no!” She stammers, fighting to keep her composure, as her stomach feels as though it’s doing somersaults.

“Oh?” He cocks his head, the hand not cupping her jaw moves, pushing the skirt of her dress up her thighs. “You a good girl then? Tell me to stop.”

She knows she should, but what she should do and what she wants to do are at direct odds with each other, so she says nothing, her chest rising and falling quickly with the rapidity of her breathing.

“That’s what I thought,” He utters, inhaling sharply as his fingers come to stroke over her clothed centre, feeling the dampness there. “Good girls don’t soak through their knickers like this for boys like me.”

It’s then that he finally presses forward to capture her lips with his own. It’s like no other kiss she’s ever experienced before, as his mouth moves with firmness against her own, parting to slip his tongue alongside hers, it feels like he is staking claim to her. She clings desperately to his shoulders, whimpering as she feels him push her underwear to the side and slowly sink a long finger inside of her.

“So tight…” He mumbles between kisses, moving his mouth to neck to suckle at her pulse point as his digit curls and pumps within her heat.

She allows her head to fall back with a soft thump against the wood of the stall’s wall as he adds a second, the repetitive strokes across a particular spot deep within her cause her muscles to tense as she bucks against his hand, feeling her belly tighten.

“Gonna come for me?” He asks cockily, sounding pleased with himself. His thumb begins to stroke at her pearl in tandem with the push and pull of his middle and forefingers.

The motion causes the tautness in her to finally give way, a wave of warmth rushes over her body from head to toe, and she lets out a strangled cry as she tightens and spasms around him.

She whines, her knees buckling as Abraham slowly retracts his fingers, but he’s quick to hold her in place by her waist. “S’alright, I’ve got you.” He reassures, keeping her steady until her breathing returns to normal.

The haze from her climax lifts slightly when she hears the metallic sound of his belt buckle unfastening, anticipation causing her breath to come in shallow puffs when it has only just recovered.

“You gonna let me inside, pretty girl?” He questions.

It almost makes her want to laugh, after what he’s just done to her, now he’s asking for permission. She nods feebly, her eyes heavy lidded as they take in the sight of his length as he fists it, long and thick. For a brief moment she wonders how he’ll fit.

“Use your words,” He urges. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” She whispers shakily, “Want you inside of me.”

He smirks, pressing into her with a satisfied groan and she mewls pathetically as he stretches her open, his grip on her thigh as he holds her open to him is sure to leave bruises.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He grits out, once he’s finally sheathed within her.

He smells faintly of sweat, musky and intoxicating as she holds him close to her. She has never felt so full before, and the roughness of the wood against her back through the thin cotton of her dress, combined with the press of Abraham against her is almost overwhelming. 

Her head lolls to the side and she gasps once he finally starts to snap his hips against hers. He places a hand around her throat, giving the sides a gentle squeeze. “Look at me,” He orders. “Look at me when I fuck you.”

She finds that once she meets his eyes, she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. There’s a hunger that burns within those baby blues, commanding and insatiable, that keeps her trapped like an animal beneath the intensity of his gaze.

His pace is relentless. The slap of skin against skin mixed with the cadence of the wanton sounds that fall from her lips is lewd, utterly obscene, yet she is too far gone to care or feel embarrassed.

She knows that Abraham is close when his pace falters. He pulls out with a grunt, stroking himself furiously until ropes of his pearlescent spend coat her thighs and lower belly.

He falls forward, keeping a hand pressed to the wall beside her head to stop himself putting too much of his weight onto her, and rests his forehead against hers.

“Fuck,” He breathes. “We should do that more often.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” She says quietly, hoping her voice doesn’t betray the sadness she feels.

“So? Come with me.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, brushing the tip of his nose softly against her cheek.

“I can’t do that!” She huffs incredulously.

“Why?” He asks, stepping away, looking for something to help clean them both up. “What’s stopping you?”

She pauses, her brow furrowing as she struggles to think of an answer. Really, what is stopping her? She grins, her future suddenly seeming much less dull.

#abraham #grantchester #ewan mitchell #abraham smut #abraham grantchester #abraham fan fiction #abraham fanfiction #abraham fan fic #abraham fanfic #grantchester smut #grantchester fan fiction #grantchester fanfiction #grantchester fanfic #grantchester fan fic

[chronicbeans]

Hi! Since I saw the illustrator wally series I've been exited to request this, it was also sad to see how nobody has yet come with this idea or at least I haven't seen anyone else bring this up so here I come!

It will be interesting how It would work a relationship between Human wally and reader who has maladaptive daydreaming along with autism, I thought of how would it be to meet someone who has to experience something familiar with you. ( since maladaptive daydreaming can be described as a variant of schizophrenia with some small differences ) anyways, I'm a desperate for representation-

ET TU, BRUTE? Omg I maladaptive daydream too (if I am reading it right and you mean to say that you do IT-). My therapist says that I am like, addicted to it lol. My family counselor also likened my case more towards depersonalization/dissociation/a variant of DID due to me only daydreaming myself as other people. This is actually the first time I have heard of it being described as a variant of schizophrenia, but it actually makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it! I need more representation too, so let's do this! I'll try to make it as broad as possible, because everyone daydreams about different things!

Illustrator Wally with an Autistic Reader who Maladaptive Daydreams:

TW: Mentions of Hallucinations, Maladaptive Daydreaming

🖍️ He is a bit confused when he sees you pacing around your living room. He is visiting, and decided to try to surprise you by sneaking up behind you and giving you a gift! Now, though, he is a bit enamored by how you are prancing around, muttering little things to yourself as you seem so carefree and happy in your little world. This is the first time he has seen you like this.

🖍️ You finally end up turning around, in his direction, and your face grows a bit pale from shock and embarrassment. "Uh... Hello... I'm so glad you came to visit!" You try to play it off, but he is too intrigued. Maybe you are like him, and hallucinate, too?

🖍️ You explain what you were doing. You daydream... WAY more often than other people! Intense worldbuilding, character arcs, and more all take place in your head the majority of the day. You like to prance or pace, finding it helpful to feel more comfortable. You also tend to stim in other ways if you cannot pace or prance. The odd facial expressions and mutterings were just you getting in character and reacting to what was happening in your daydreams.

🖍️ Wally is intrigued. It is so... similar, but different, from him. Both you and him are autistic, yes. He's known that for a while, since you told him around the second or third meeting between you two. THIS, though, is so amazing to him. He wants to know more about the stories in your head!

🖍️What do they consist of? Are they horror? Romance? Action? Comedy? He wishes to know. Are you in them? Do you play someone else? Is it from a third person perspective, watching over your creations? If it is something child friendly, maybe you can write a book and he can illustrate it!

🖍️ Even if it is something more... dark, disturbing, overall NOT a kid friendly topic... he would still want to draw it! Maybe he can start to expand his illustrations into more adult books. He is shockingly good at drawing horror, you know. Some of his vent art is a really disturbing treat to view.

🖍️ You might get onto the topic of how both of your conditions are similar and different. You have a lot of characters floating around in your head. Different worlds, stories, everything! Wally does have, in a way, characters, too! The little voices in his head count, right? Sometimes the same one will pop up every now and again. Both of your conditions seem, in a way, uncontrolled. Due to Wally preferring to not use medications, he simply lives with the voices and hallucinations, going to therapy to help him cope and learn to live with it. You just go with the flow, in a way. As far as you've heard, the best and only way to help deal with it is therapy. No real medication or anything.

🖍️ You both are finally happy to find someone similar to yourselves. The best part is that it is similar enough to be familiar, but different enough to have such interesting conversations!

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home au

[ominous-auburn-orbs]

Royalteeth fic because your new writing gave idea! When looking for an exit the performers accidentally mess up the antivirus on the computer that sees Caine as a threat and screws him up, leading Kinger to be the the rescue

Sorry this took so long, I was trying to find the right situation to put them in. Enjoy!

"Hello, superstars! I've got a special excursion for you today!" Caine floated above the performers, addressing them all.

"Excursion? Weren't we meant to stay in the tent?" Pomni had seen what was outside, and there really wasn't much other than the void, that theme park and the digital lake. If they were going to either of the last two, she could already see how it could all go horribly wrong.

"Usually, but I wanted to show you all something! You've been asking a lot of questions about how things work, so I thought I'd show you all the game's code so you could understand better!"

With a snap of his fingers, Caine had teleported the group to a strange area with black surfaces and coding spread about everywhere. It was disorienting, some of them almost failing to stay on their feet.

"Here we are! This is where the game's code is stored. Just look around for a bit and all your inquiries will be answered!"

The others wandered the surprisingly expansive area, trying to make sense of the fast-moving words and numbers. If anything, it was creating more questions for the crew. Kinger, however, stared at one of the walls of text with a calculating look, absorbed by the code. Gangle thought about asking him if he knew what it meant, but thought better of it. If anything really was happening in his mind, it would be better to let him go through the whole process and tell them in his own time, rather than disturb him and risk losing the only solid information they could get out of the excursion.

Jax was looking for something interesting to mess with, but he still couldn't tell what was what.

"Hey, Caine! Any of this code yours?" He called to the ringmaster.

"Oh, why yes, Jax! In fact, i believe you're standing rather close to it! Just be careful not to touch it!" Just as Jax started to do just that, Caine remembered why everyone else now had horrified looks. "I shouldn't have told him that, should I?"

Unfortunately, it was already too late. Caine's body spasmed and changed colours as Jax took and rearranged pieces of his code, chuckling to himself all the while.

"JAX!!" Caine's yell pulled Jax away from the code and awoke Kinger from his reading. He reached out his hand and the rabbit's rubberhose arms twisted around his own body, holding him in place as well as being rather painful. Unable to keep balance, he fell to the floor.

Whatever he'd done, it had made Caine far more aggressive. While the other performers had no qualms with Jax being beaten to death, Caine also ran the risk of hurting everyone else in the process.

Gangle wrapped herself around his legs, attempting to pull him down and restrain him enough that they could fix what had happened, but she was promptly shaken off and tied into knots.

When Zooble tried to attack him, their parts were sent flying, with one of them hitting Ragatha hard in the face, knocking her down.

Kinger finally processed what was going on and rushed in front of Caine, hands up in a defensive position. "Caine, please, stop!"

For once, the ringmaster paused. His now altered code told him to attack, to remove this obstacle, but a part of him knew Kinger wasn't a threat. He never wanted to hurt him. Conflicted, he simply stared, his thoughts unreadable.

"Caine? Please, you're scaring me." Scaring him? Caine had scared him? That realisation brought some of himself back. He had harmed his performers; his superstars. He'd almost hurt Kinger.

Slowly, Caine lowered to the ground and walked to Kinger. The chess piece didn't move, not wanting to set him off again. Caine grabbed Kinger's robe and opened it slightly, wrapping it around himself and hugging Kinger close.

Kinger risked lowering his hands, placing one on the top of the ringmaster's head and gently moving it back and forth, feeling him physically relax. Kinger breathed a sigh of relief, then looked up at the others.

Pomni was untangling Gangle while Ragatha searched for Zooble's parts, a pile of them already in her hands. They all seemed a bit dazed, shocked by what Caine could and would do if something in his code went wrong.

"Uh, are you all okay?" The group looked to the pair then each other, unsure of how to answer. Ragatha eventually made that decision for them.

"We'll be fine, what matters now is fixing Caine's code." Kinger nodded, taking a few steps to confirm that Caine would walk with him before going to the wall of text that defined Caine's very being. No pressure at all.

"Hey aren't one of you gonna help me-" Jax was kicked aside to give Kinger more room. He read the code with intense focus, somehow understanding it rather well. Even he was confused by that, but it wasn't what mattered.

As he rearranged and added to the code, it came to him that he also had Caine's coding near memorised. Once the other circus members were back to how they should be, Ragatha attempted to go up to Kinger and ask him about his progress. Unfortunately, the moment she got close, Caine's head popped out of his robe and bit her, causing her to jump back. The chess piece hadn't seemed to notice. The performers then decided to keep their distance while he worked, Zooble also giving Jax a good kick to fully roll him out of the way.

Eventually, Kinger was finished. Immediately Caine snapped his fingers and they were all sent back to the tent. Jax was also unravelled, to near everyone's disappointment.

The ringmaster still clung to Kinger, put poked his head out to speak to the others. "I'm sorry, my superstars. That really wasn't the educational adventure I wanted it to be. I hope you can forgive me."

"Uh, s-sure, Caine. Jax started it, anyway. Just- just be more careful next time." Pomni was itching to go to her room and think over what she had been able to see. Nothing about an exit. She would have to ask what Kinger saw, no matter how strange the answer was. He knew something she needed, which could really be anything at all. Any knowledge was useful at this point.

Jax at least looked a little shaken, but not really remorseful. Still, he'd hopefully learned some sort of lesson. Hopefully.

"Of course, Pomni. Now, how about you lot retire? I'd say we've had just about enough of everything for one day."

The performers agreed, going to their rooms. However, Gangle had stopped for a moment to stare at the way Caine embraced Kinger. She had new writing material already.

#jax is my punching bag #I want him dead #caine x kinger #royalteeth #kinger x caine #kingleader #if you can't tell I believe in the 'kinger was a programmer on the game' theory

[flowerandblood]

The sweetest fruit (6)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Valyrian! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, rape attempt, violence ]

[description: (Anon Request) Aemond is to meet his future wife from Essos, in whose veins runs the blood of Old Valyria. They’ve been engaged since they were kids, but he’s in no hurry to get married and he’s not happy about her arrival. His future wife, however, turns out to be someone completely different than he expected. Smut, angst and a lot of sexual tension.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He didn't know what made him get the ridiculous idea to fuck her in a brothel. Maybe it was that she spent the day with him the way he liked, showing him that his needs also interested her.

Maybe because they were doing something forbidden together, escaping from the Red Keep. Maybe it was because he felt lust the whole time he looked at her, and couldn't take it anymore. He decided it was better to fuck her there than in the middle of the street.

He thought that perhaps she would get discouraged, say that she wanted to go back, that she did not want to be in such a place. The complete opposite happened.

When he saw her gaze, her excitedly parted, shiny lips, he lunged at her, literally ripped off her clothes. He fucked her like she was one of the whores around them, and she moaned in pleasure beneath him. They both came so hard that the sounds stuck in their throats.

After that, they just lay there, panting, looking at each other. They placed wet, sticky, dirty kisses on each other's lips once in a while, sucking and licking them. He knew they should get out of there as soon as possible. He was afraid that someone had already noticed them because of his bright, conspicuous hair.

He knew it, but instead he got up, kneeling in front of her, lifted her buttocks and started taking her from behind. She purred sweetly as a kitten beneath him, delighted that it wasn't over, floating up on her hands, her hips responding to his thrusts, slow and gentle this time.

He gasped in delight as she lifted herself up, so that her back rested against a chest, rising and falling on his hard, throbbing cock. They both moaned softly, his one hand on her hip, other one gripping her soft, firm breast, playing with her nipple. He felt her insides tighten on him and kissed her neck, panting heavily, his hips thrusting into her deeper.

"You haven't paid me for your first pleasure yet, and you're already taking me for a second time?" She asked amused, panting sweetly, her eyes closed, focusing only on feeling his caresses, her lips parted slightly.

He chuckled at her words, moving his face to her ear, driving his member into her in a hard, wet motion. They were sticky with their shared juices, their bodies hitting each other with a loud slap.

"Fear not, I have plenty of gold, my Lady." He purred, felt her smile widely, delighted that he was playing her game with her.

She lifted herself up and he released her from his arms, letting her slide off him. He stared at her expectantly, his cock hard and sticky with their shared juices, throbbing impatiently, close to another consummation.

She straddled him, facing him, sliding onto him again, causing them both to sigh in pleasure. He was delighted to see that her breasts were at the height of his face. He leaned in greedily, taking them in his mouth, licking and sucking alternately on her nipple, starting to move inside her again.

She leaned back with a sweet moan, entwining her hands in his hair, pressing his face to her chest, rising and falling against him with a loud, sticky sound.

"It feels so good, my prince" She whispered blissfully, panting softly, delighted by his gentle caresses, the feeling of his wet saliva and his tongue on her nipple, which had hardened completely.

He pulled away from her, licking his mouths, his hands tightening on her hips and accelerating, fucking her hard and fast, obviously getting close to his fullfilment. His thumb teased her clit with light, gentle movements, driving her crazy. She dug into his lips, kissing him hungrily, moaning louder and louder with him.

He came, panting helplessly, resting his forehead on her shoulder, continuing to massage her with his thumb.

"Please, touch me there" She sobbed helplessly, and he did as she asked, squeezing her hard, massaging her in steady, circular motions. She came after a moment too, leaning back with a delightful moan, hugging him to her, a wonderful shiver running through her body as the orgasm spilled over her in waves.

She moved on him for a while more, delighted, when suddenly someone bumped into their bed, making them both jump up. Aegon, drunk and in the arms of one of the women, nearly fell over.

For a moment he stared at them with his mouth open, not believing what he was seeing. Lady Vhassar quickly reached for her husband's cloak, covering herself tightly with it. Aemond slid out of her, standing up, as surprised and terrified as she was. Aegon looked at her appreciatively.

"Don't cover up, we'll join in the fun." He said, slapping the girl standing next to him on the buttock, and she giggled softly.

"No." Aemond said through clenched teeth, an anger in his eye like she had never seen before.

Aegon waved a hand at him, laughing, his eyes clouded.

"I'm not asking your opinion. It's her pretty pussy that I want to fuck, not you, brother." He said, but didn't have time to say anything else, because his brother grabbed him violently by the clothes, their faces millimeters apart.

"Get the fuck out." He hissed low. Aegon looked at his wife curled up on the bed, his cloak wrapped tightly around her.

"Let him stay here. Will you join us? I heared the girls of Volantis know what fun is. As far as I can see." He grunted contentedly, and Aemond looked at her with horrified eye.

If she had been in Volantis with any man she didn't care about, perhaps she would have agreed. But now, in that moment, with her husband by her side, all she felt inside was disgust at his brother's proposal.

"No. Didn't you hear what my husband said?" She asked firmly, frowning. Aegon laughed, pointing at her with his finger.

"You're such a lady like I'm a sober man. Be careful, brother, this woman will cuckold you quickly. I can tell when a woman is just a whore." He muttered under his breath.

Aemond slammed his head against his forehead so hard that Aegon fell to the floor, howling in pain. He picked him up by the hair and he whimpered in pain.

"Apologise to my wife." He hissed through clenched teeth. Aegon just spat in his face at his words. Aemond pursed his lips, preparing to hit him again.

"Aemond!" She cried helplessly. He swallowed hard and stared at her in shock when she called him by his name. He released Aegon after a moment. He hissed in pain as he rubbed his head.

"We're leaving." He said low, tossing her clothes at her, as he quickly put on his pants himself.

"Now." He added emphatically as she stared at him in horror.

Hearing his tone of voice, terrified and shaky, she did as he asked. They left, putting on their cap and hood, avoiding Aegon lying there, muttering in pain, being followed by curious glances from other people.

They went outside, Aemond, furious, walking so fast she couldn't keep up with him. She hadn't felt as guilty and terrified as she did now in a long time, and she didn't know what to say. She wanted to cry. If it wasn't for her idea for their night escape, none of this would have happened.

She thought it was certain that words about them would spread all over King's Landing, perhaps even to her parents. That they could reach the king and queen through Aegon, and destroy the image of their second son in their eyes. She pursed her lips, swallowing hard.

They entered the keep through the same entrance they had left. Aemond no longer seemed to care if anyone noticed them or not. He headed for his chamber without looking at her. He gave her cold gaze as she followed him in.

"What are you doing?" He asked impassively. "I'm not in the mood for more close-ups tonight."

She felt as if he had slapped her in the cheek. She looked down, humiliated, on the verge of tears. She wasn't going to beg him on her knees to let her stay, even though that was what she wanted.

"I just wanted to fall asleep next to you." She spoke softly, her voice breaking.

They stood in silence for a moment. He wanted to tell her to go to her quarters and leave him alone. That it's all her fault. That until she came into his life everything had a rhythm and order to him, that she had knocked out of his hands. But he knew that was only a half-truth.

The other half was that he dragged her to the brothel. She hadn't asked for it, hadn't even thought of it. She just wanted to see the city, if they went back to the keep after the show no one would even know they had left it in the first place.

It was his greed and lust that led them to run into his brother.

He lowered his head, untying his coat and throwing it to the ground. He could see out of the corner of his eye that her body was shaking and she was just as scared as he was.

For a while, when they were there and Aegon had asked her to come with them, he had been afraid that she would. That she would leave him and go with them, understanding that instead of a prince, she might have a future king for herself. But she didn't.

He looked at her, his gaze softening.

"I cannot forgive myself for my recklessness." He said helplessly and honestly, vulnerable and broken, opening up to her in a way.

She didn't answer him, and they stood in silence for a while. He heard her approach him hesitantly and they looked at each other resignedly. She swallowed hard, lowering her eyes, weighed down by guilt.

"If the king and queen find out, let me say that it was my idea to take me there. I'll say that's how we do it in Volantis. It'll make it easier for them to believe that a promiscuous person like me did it. I'll just confirm the rumors about me, and they'll leave you alone." She said softly, looking down at the fingers she was playing with, her voice barely leaving her throat. It was the first time he had seen her like this. Her words chilled him.

"It wouldn't be fair, because the rumors about you aren't true." He said calmly.

She looked at him in such a way that his heart sank. She smiled so sweetly, her trembling lips pressed together. One lonely tear of helplessness rolled down her cheek.

"I am aware of what rumors are also circulating about me too." He said low. He knew what people said about him.

"The One-Eyed Prince" "The Dragon Thief" "The Cripple" "The Lord of Nothing" "The Heartless Dragon" Each of these names stuck deeply into his heart, making him believe in each one of them.

"Do you think that what people are saying about me is true?" He asked, trying to stay calm, feeling his heart pounding.

He wanted to know about it from the first day she arrived. Did she think that he was just a cold, bitter, crippled man with no heart, no land, no soul. She was silent for a moment, looking at him intensely.

"Before we got married, there were people who condoled me, saying I was marrying a cripple. But I thought that you're not the one who is cripple. They're the cripples, just in the minds, husband. And crippled minds can't be trusted." She said, lifting her head proudly, sure of what she was saying, even though that tears were streaming down her cheeks.

She saw that he was looking at her with a fire that no man had ever looked at her with before. She sucked in a breath and froze as she saw his hand go up to his eyepatch. He took it off in one swift motion. She saw his sapphire eye glow menacingly in the faint moonlight that streamed into his chamber through the windows.

For the first time in her life she rushed at the man, digging into his mouth, kissing him so greedily as if he was about to melt. She heard his low startled sound, he kissed her back without hesitation, his wet, sticky lips sucking and caressing her hungrily, his hands clenched in her hair.

She pulled away from him with the wet, drawn-out click of their saliva. She looked up at him in awe, her fingers lightly brushing over his scarred cheek. She stood on her toes and began to place soft, wet, tender kisses on him. She felt him sigh deliciously, his hands tightening on her clothes and hair.

He grabbed her jaw and forced her lips to find his again. As much as he tried to hold back, he felt himself hard again. They looked at each other as if they were asking each other for permission. Her hand grabbed his, leading him back to the bed. They both knew there might be a storm tomorrow, but it didn't matter. Another wall between them collapsed.

He made love to her gently, taking her wonderfully slowly, kissing her all the time, looking at her beautiful face, all red from crying. There was something beautiful about the physical act, a sense of understanding and care.

It wasn't even about fulfillment itself, but what was in between. They were so tired that at one point they just embraced, stopping moving. They fell asleep in each other's arms, resigning from chasing orgasm in favor of simple, warm tenderness.

The next morning a servant informed them that the queen wished to see them. They both knew what that meant. Aemond wanted to go alone, but Lady Vhassar would not hear of it. They were both equally guilty and reckless.

The queen was waiting for them in her chamber, pacing restlessly. She looked at them, dropping her arms thoughtlessly.

"What have you done?" She asked, shaking her head. "Your wife may not know the rules of court yet, but you, Aemond? How could you fail me like that?"

Aemond pursed his lips at her words and swallowed them humbly. He seemed to be thinking hard about what to say.

"I'm afraid, I've begun to fall in love with my wife, Mother. My affection for her has blinded me. I'm the one who dragged her there. She only wanted to see the city at night and return to the Keep." He spoke low and calm.

Both his mother and his wife looked at him shocked. Lady Vhassar felt her cheeks burn, her heart pounding wildly. She felt a warmth spread over her body. She thought, surprised and touched, that perhaps she reciprocated his feelings. She tried to pretend not to notice, but she let him not only between her thighs, but also into her heart.

His mother sighed heavily, his words soothing her. From her perspective, what he had done was better, since he was still faithful to his wife, than keeping a mistress aside who she knew he had stopped visiting. She shook her head.

"This must not happen again. Otherwise the king will know everything from me. This is my last warning." She said and nodded at them, dismissing them.

They left her room, taking deep breaths, looking at each other uncertainly. They both didn't know what to say after hearing his confession. He cleared his throat and said he would join Sir Criston as his training was about to begin. She nodded and they separated.

She went back to her chamber and lay down on her bed, taking with her a bowl of fresh blueberries that Namyss have brought to her room in the morning. She ate them, looking deliberately at the views from the window.

The fact that she felt something for him frightened her. It made her feel weak and vulnerable. All he had to do was decide that he missed his lover and he would break her heart. She promised herself that whoever her husband was she wouldn't let him make her suffer, but she never suspected that she might fall in love with him.

Despite what happened next, the physical intimacy with him in the brothel was the most intense she had ever experienced. She thought there was passion and fire between them. When they weren't making love, she loved being with him. She liked the sound of his voice, the innocent touch of his big, strong hands, his face, his intense gaze, his soft, full lips. She smiled to herself at a tought.

She shuddered to herself and rose happily when she heard that someone open the door to her chamber, thinking that he had changed his mind and decided to spend the morning with her. Her expression immediately turned to a sinister grimace as she saw Aegon close the door behind him. She stood up quickly, stepping back.

"Get out or I'll scream." She said warningly.

Aegon looked at her mockingly.

"Wouldn't you rather moan with pleasure a little with me? I know the women of Essos like such games. For example, having two brothers at once." He said, still looking drunk, smiling widely.

"I liked you from the first moment I saw you. You are so beautiful, smart, talkative." He said low. She tought that she heard desperation in his voice.

She felt that there was nothing to wait for. She screamed so high and loud that she felt they could hear her in Volantis. What she didn't expect, was the hard slap he gave her.

She fell to the ground, clutching her sore spot, her hearing go blank for a moment, her head spinning, unable to make a sound. She felt him grab her legs and pull up her gown, kneeling in front of her.

"I wanted to do it in a nice way. Pity." He said, covering her mouth, before she could scream a second time. She struggled and kicked him, looking at him pleadingly, but he pinned her down with his body. "Don't pretend. What difference does it make which brother's child you will bear?"

She sobbed under him, trying to push him off, hearing him try to undo his pants. She heard the sound of the door opening quickly. Aegon turned, and moments later he was lying on the ground, writhing in pain. Namyss was standing over him, panting heavily, a metal candlestick in her hands.

"Guards!" She screamed loudly. "Send for Prince Aemond!"

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn’t tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1

Others: @ethereallocs @bellameshipper @tssf-imagines @menaosama @it-is-getting-better @danielle-leah1997 @czegochceszlol

#aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x oc #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon aemond #aemond smut #aemond fluff #aemond fandom #aemond targaryen x you #dark aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell x reader #aemond fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd angst #aemond angst #hotd fluff #hotd x you

[misterblur]

"Laugh some more, ringleader~"

Ler: Jax

Lee: Caine

Usually in the amazing digital circus, Caine would surprise some of the members with a tickle attack. This annoyed some of the cast, but sometimes they actually needed it and Caine knew it.

Though, this escalated when Caine was able to tickle the teaser, Jax. Jax was absolutely furious about this, he was the one who tickled people! Not the other way around! And so, this provoked Jax to get Caine back..

"Hey Pom-pom.." Jax nudged Pomni's shoulder "uh..yeah?" She asked, while glancing at Jax "I need you to do a little favor~" Jax says in a condescending tone.

"Okay?... what is it?" The poor Jester had no idea how much trouble she was going to get Caine in. "Just lead Caine into that x on the floor..." The sly rabbit pointed at the specific place where the marked x was.

"Umm..okay? I guess I can do that.." Pomni replied, she was confused of course, but she didn't have anything better to do. And so..

"Hey Caine, uh, Ragatha needs you for something.." Pomni said, while walking towards Caine "oh? For what?" The ringleader asked, as he floated down towards Pomni "it's a surprise.." She replied. Instantly, the ringleader lit up and he floated next to Pomni.

"Well then let's go! I wouldn't want to keep them waiting!" Caine exclaimed cheerfully "lead the way, Pomni!" He said in bliss. Pomni chuckled awkwardly and lead Caine towards the specific area with the x.

"J- just wait here! I- I'll get Ragatha, okay?.." Pomni said, as she saw Caine floating above the x "well, okay then! Go ahead!" Caine gave Pomni a thumbs-up. Pomni nodded and went behind one of the huge blocks that were scattered around the tent.

"Alright, I got Caine there- now what?" Pomni asked Jax "don't worry about that...you can just watch or scram..it doesn't mattered." Jax chuckled and shot a glance at the distracted ringleader.

Pomni raised an eyebrow and shrugged, she then stayed behind the block and observed what Jax was gonna do.

Jax slowly crept up behind Caine, like how predator sneaks up on prey...then, Jax jumped up and pulled Caine down. He pinned Caine on the floor and instantly began tickling Caine's sides and stomach.

"Jax!?- hahahah! What are-hahahha- are you doing!?" Caine yelled in-between laughter. Jax snickered and continued spidering his fingers around Caine's body "hehe, something tells me you like this, Caine!"Jax teased.

"Stahphahaha!! Pl- please!!hahaha!!" Caine was already almost out of breath, he sure was a weakling when it came to tickling. "Jax-hahah!! No-hahahah!!"

Jax chuckled menacingly "hehe, laugh some more ringleader~!" Jax then took a deep breath and blew raspberries on Caine's stomach. Caine instantly laughed louder and harder.

"No- no! Ple-hahaha- please no!!" Caine begged, as he saw Jax take in another breath. In an instant, Jax blew another raspberry on Caine's poor stomach.

"Huh? What was that Caine?" Jax teased, as he continued roughly tickling Caine. "Do-hahahah!!- don't- hahah!!" Was all Caine could say, as he was laughing too hard.

"Don't what?" Jax smirked at Caine, who was currently curled into a ball trying to protect his sensitive body. "Tic-hahah!!-tickle me!- hahah!!" Caine was barely even speaking anymore "oh? Tickle you? Okay then~!" Jax smiled and went even rougher on Caine.

Eventually, Jax soon got bored and he thought Caine had enough..for now "Alright, I'm bored, your free now." Jax said nonchalantly, as he stood up. Caine laid on the floor, breathing heavily and shaking a lot.

"Th- thank gosh..." Caine muttered, as he sat up. Jax snickered and glanced at Caine "that was..interesting.." he says and started to float again "lesson learned. Don't tickle the tickler~"

#amazing digital circus #tickle fanfic #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus caine #tadc pomni #tickle content