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esamastation · 7 months

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Shizuroth, part twenty-four

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three

There are few things you learn very quickly after joining the SOLDIER program.

One, mind your own business. If it looks like it's above your paygrade, it is, and no amount of curiosity or bluster will be enough to fend off the Turks. Though, honestly, that's just common sense for any employee of Shinra Electric Power Company…

Two, mind your own. You see another SOLDIER struggling, you give them a hand, you put your shoulder out there for them to lean on, and you don't make note of it. They all come out of their first Mako injections, spewing their guts out. If someone acts a bit crazy, you give them a hand, you give them a moment, and you move on.

And three, there is no such thing as too much training. In all honesty, none of them get enough training, with the enhancements they get. They're always playing catch up with the Mako, trying to match skill and control to raw power - which only grows greater with each injection. They rarely even get the time to get adjusted to their latest batch of Mako. It was a waste of time!

Shinra didn't hire them to train them to be Elite SOLDIERs, no. That's what the injections were for, after all - they were an instant shortcut to a capability that normally took up to twenty years of hard training to achieve. SOLDIER were given raw power, relentless endurance and seemingly unstoppable speed at the point of a needle and then… then they were given work.

A lot of SOLDIER Third Classes delighted in that, taking full advantage of the powers given and going to town, not paying much mind to technical skill. What is skill when you can outrun, outlift and outlast every other human out there? Lot of Thirds let it get to their heads.

A lot of SOLDIER Thirds never made it to Seconds.

The ones that made it to Seconds knew better, usually. The only way to get there was to rise above Thirds, and the only way to do that is by training. Which they often had to beg, borrow, bribe and steal for. Martial art manuals from Wutai, physical training from athletes, actual one on one sessions with older and more experienced warriors… even spars against each other, all worth their weight in materia in the SOLDIER program.

And training from a SOLDIER First Class…? Priceless.

Angeal Hewley was the best for it - he liked training with Seconds and sometimes even Thirds. He was a good teacher too, he took personal interest, he kept up with progress, he gave challenges. You could really feel yourself improving, under Angeal's hand.

Genesis Rhapsodos was… also good, if you needed tutoring in Materia. There was no better Spellcaster in Shinra then Genesis, and you could tell that he was always striving to get better. Unfortunately he gave up on his students if he felt they weren't putting in enough effort. Which was, sooner or later, all of them.

But Sephiroth…

"Good," the First says, still with that absolutely deranged smile on his face as he walks through their ranks, checking their stances. "Now again, from the beginning - one, two, three…" He actually claps a beat, and the SOLDIERs go through the poses in sequence, sifting in time with his claps.

Kunsel's knees are shaking, and he can feel strain in muscles he used to be absolutely sure he'd trained enough. His grip on his sword is white-knuckled, and he can feel the way the tip is quivering radiating down the blade, into his hands, his wrists, his arms. He barely dares to breathe.

At Sephiroth's call, he shifts with everyone else to the next pose - feet shifting and then back firmly in the ground.

No one dares to breathe too loudly, and no one has said a word - no one wants to break whatever has come over Sephiroth.

In his mind, Kunsel is desperately trying to memorise everything so that the moment it ends he could write it all down.

"Knee," Sephiroth says to someone, and there's a shift of a boot as someone shifts their position. "Good. Lower your left elbow. Very good. You there, relax your grip, breathe."

Kunsel's heart skips a beat as Sephiroth speaks to him, as the First approaches him. "No need to have such a death grip. It's better to lose your sword than your fingers," the First says, smiling, smiling, green eyes glowing.

Kunsel almost drops the whole sword as Sephiroth touches his hand to urge him to relax. His breath escapes in a wooshy exhale and Sephiroth, SOLDIER First Class, chuckles at him.

"There, that's much better, isn't it?" And before Kunsel can do more than gape at him, the First is moving forward. "Good! Now, is everyone ready?" Sephiroth asks, sauntering up to stand in front of them.

"Yes, sir!" comes the instant answer from about a dozen SOLDIERs.

"So obedient," Sephiroth purrs. "Good. Now swing!"

Dozen sword beams launch in unison at the First, who watches them come with a smug little smile, before swiping them away with a single easy swing of his sword.

"There, everyone got it, very good," Sephiroth says, watching them like he wants to eat them all. "You have done this master very proud. That ends today's lesson - I want all of you to practise these moves, but without activating your Qi. Do not tempt Qi-deviation."

Like with most things Sephiroth has said during the lesson, none of them have any idea what he's saying, but they agree nonetheless. "Yes, sir!"

"Good. Go on then," Sephiroth says with a little wave and still with that smile. "Shoo!"

Sephiroth just shoo'd them.

On still shaking knees, Kunsel stumbles with the rest of the Thirds and Seconds out of the destroyed training room. They're all just about equally shell-shocked as they quietly meet with the SOLDIERs who hadn't been able to fit in the lesson, but who had all been watching, avidly, as it progressed.

There's a sense of shock and awe in the air - like they'd all just gone through a bombing run together, and it has been equal parts amazing and horrifying.

"None of this gets off this floor," a voice says quietly from the back. One of the older Seconds, whose name Kunsel doesn't know. "Got it? Anyone asks, you say nothing about this. As far as anyone outside this floor is concerned, nothing happened."

"Sephiroth, is he…?"

"He calmed down after Professor Hojo and the technicians left," the older SOLDIER whispers very firmly. "And that. Is. All."

Kunsel swallows and looks back through the malfunctioning, still open automatic doors.

Sephiroth has taken seat on the floor in the middle of the devastation with Masamune held upon his crossed legs. He's meditating.

"I think I'd die for him," someone breathes out fervently.

Kunsel clears his throat before he can do something silly like agree. "Should we, um… call Director Deusericus, give the all clear? There's bound to be, um… cleanup, and such."

The other SOLDIERs consider this, looking conflicted.

"I say give it a moment," someone sighs, shakily sitting down on the floor. Whether intentionally or not, he's mirroring Sephiroth's pose. "I, for one, need a moment."

He is not the only one, and they're all trying to look into the training room, to catch a glimpse of the SOLDIER First Class.

After a moment just standing there without a thought in his head, Kunsel joins them. "So, um. Does anyone know anything about mediation?"

They don't, but that doesn't stop them from trying.

Disciples aquired.

#Fanfiction #ff7 #ffvii #svsss #Sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #kunsel

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y-rhywbeth2 · 6 months

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D&D Vampire Lore Dump #2

"Biology" Their "metabolism" and their physical body, their senses, why they're not aging and "vampires actually make fantastic torture victims, if you're a monster: vampire healing and how to inflict scars on them."

OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER FOR FIRST TIME READERS: There are two things to note about the lore presented here: First, while the standard stat block in the monster manual is the default, in terms of lore vampires have this annoying tendency to be incredibly, stupidly varied. They are magical monstrosities ruled by the power of symbolism and superstition above anything else.

The next is that D&D is decades old, spans five editions, several settings and hundreds of writers. One guy establishes a piece of lore, and then the next picks it up goes "nah" and writes something else. I collected info from four different source books, all from different editions, which naturally don't entirely agree on how vampires work. Lore never stays consistent and may contradict itself. You may see information somewhere else from a source I don't have that contradicts what I wrote here. If you read this and like some of this stuff but not other bits, take the good and ditch the rest. Larian themselves have not written BG3 totally compliant with some established D&D lore or the original games.

Basically, in D&D, canon is what you decide it is.

Feeding | "Biology" | Hierarchy | Weaknesses and Cures | Psychology

The transformation into a vampire causes little physical change, except for the fangs, and the fact that their facial features seem take on a permanent hardened expression, appearing more "feral" in a way that is likened to a starving wolf. Spawn moreso than freed vampires, and in 5e they have claws despite the fact that freed vampires don't. Sometimes a vampire's eyes turn red upon changing, but this doesn't always happen.

Most of the vampire's five senses are sharpened by undeath. They can see perfectly in the dark, for example, and are very hard to catch off guard. The only one that gets duller than it was when they were alive is the sense of touch - "a blunt, phantom sense of touch, more mechanical than biological. It is a pale, crude approximation of a real tactile sense." They don't feel the effects of physical exertion and their ability to feel pain is dulled (but not nonexistent). They're not particularly bothered by high or cold temperatures unless they're at extremes (like frostbite levels, or "standing by a lava pool" levels). They're also largely unbothered by electric shocks.

They don't breathe, though they do actually have a heartbeat as their blood still gets pumped around their body. It doesn't provide any biological need of a living circulatory system, but is possibly part of keeping the body animated via magic.

Vampires do not produce body heat and tend to be room temperature to the touch unless they've fed within the last 24 hours, in which case they appear alive.

Lacking brain activity on account of being dead, vampires are immune to mind effecting spells and psionics. The fact that Astarion is affected by the tadpole is likely due to Netherese magic. The parasite is canonically modifying his undead state to its needs and has shut down his vampiric abilities, as he observes in one banter.

Their physical abilities massively increase. They have superhuman strength, speed and reflexes and are far more durable than the living.

Vampiric blood looks like humanoid blood at first glance, but takes on a golden sheen when held up to a light source. Also if the vampire it came from is still alive, then that blood can have strange magic properties… which are random! Maybe it burns like acid, or puts you under mind control if you touch it, or explodes into flame when exposed to sunlight! You won't know 'til you find out, it could do anything or nothing.

Vampires are capable of siring partially-undead children with the living (Dhampirs). Dhampirs are alive but as they grow up and their undead heritage starts to manifest they begin to share their vampire parent's cravings and feeding habits and are not terribly fond of said parent, as a rule.

Vampires are the only undead that require sleep. That turned out to be a very long topic of its own though, so maybe I'll focus on the details another time. Short version: Vampires have an instinctive knowledge of how close sunrise is. Some vampires can chose to sleep much like humans, others will immediately shut down the second the sun appears over the horizon and be dead until the moment it next sinks below said horizon, at which point the vampire is 1000% aware and awake again. They are bound to soil from their grave/homeland and must sleep on/in that or be destroyed. In BG3 specifically, looking at Cazador, elves still reverie (trance) in undeath. (In reverie, elves relive their memories of years gone by in vivid real time instead of dreaming. It's how elves avoid forgetting their own lives while living 700+ years) Vampires also hibernate, where they chose to go into a deep sleep for an unknown and uncontrollable length of time reaching centuries in length. Usually due to depression.

A vampire's body is frozen in time, and they will always have the same appearance they had when they died. The magic that keeps the vampire frozen in time, unageing, also gives them regenerative properties as it tries to reset them. Within minutes of receiving a wound, the wound has closed itself as if it were never there. "Wounds close, broken bones reform themselves, even missing limbs regenerate…" Reducing a vampire to 0 hit points also does not kill them, but that's for a later instalment. If one were to torture a vampire one could get both incredibly creative and make it last indefinitely.

They also can't get new tattoos or piercings, as the body heals them over again and pushes out the ink/metal. On the same logic if they had body modifications before they died then they'd never be able to get rid of them - if you scrape off the skin a tattoo is on or tore off a pierced lobe, the skin that grows back will still have the tattoo and the ear will have the hole for the earing still there.

However, there are forms of magical damage that inflict permanent marks on a vampire, which are called stigmata. Sunlight, holy water, holy symbols and the like are known to leave a scar. A silver plated blade might also do it.

There are two energy planes: Positive and Negative. Also known as the Planes of Life and Death, whose energies infuse the Prime Material Plane (which contains worlds like Earth and Toril). Living creatures are powered by positive energy (also called "radiant"), while the undead are animated by negative energy ("necrotic"). It's actually theorised that the undead somehow exist on the Prime Material Plane and the Negative Energy Plane simultaneously, though this seems gets into a lot of planar lore and conflicting information that I'm not going into. Traditionally, due to this difference, the undead are healed by spells made of negative/necrotic energy such as Inflict Wounds spells, but in reverse would be harmed by healing spells. 5e has not included this detail, that I've seen.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #i seem to recall something about Vampire the Masquerade writers also writing for Ravenloft #I can definitely see it #long post

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sadgi · 2 months

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compiling information about the kineema, because I'm normal

hi. you may remember me from this post talking about how the kineema doesn't have a hood. I've decided to compile all the *other* info I can get on the kineema and comment on it. hopefully this is okay to read

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let's start with what I could find on fayde

INTERFACING - With its air-cooled, rear-mounted twelve cylinder compression ignition engine driving the rear wheels through a four-speed manual gearbox, the Kineema is able to reach 100 kilometres per hour in 13.5 seconds. And go on to a top speed of 180 kilometres an hour. YOU - Won't it roll over in the first sharp corner? INTERFACING - The high centre of balance is offset by a large battery bank mounted at the bottom of the cabin, feeding all the auxiliary systems and making the Kineema effectively a mobile power plant.

air-cooled: no radiator. I assume this is what those big heat-sink looking things on sides of the engine are for

compression ignition engine: diesel, no spark plugs (diesel engines are named after a guy, rudolph diesel, so I guess in elysium they didn't do that)

rear wheel drive: this is pretty obvious just looking at the thing

100 kilometres per hour in 13.5 seconds: not very fast acceleration compared to modern cars, but the history of cars in elysium is obviously very different to irl

battery bank: this is the only thing keeping the kineema from tipping backwards onto its ass as soon as you accelerate

YOU - "What's it packing there?" (Point to the engine.) KIM KITSURAGI - "Hundred-and-thirty." INTERFACING - I reckon that's a seven-litre V12 there. ENCYCLOPEDIA - Man, that's got to be a major advancement over the KR18GU engine on the old Coupris 40. YOU - "Wait, hundred-and-thirty what?" KIM KITSURAGI - "Kilowatts," the lieutenant replies laconically.

130 kilowatts: ~174 horsepower

YOU - "That's what..." (Rub your chin.) "... a seven-litre V12?" KIM KITSURAGI - "Seven-point-two. Supercharged." The lieutenant is trying to suppress a smug smile. Unsuccessfully. EMPATHY - Saying these words brings him immense joy.

7.2 litre engine: space inside the cylinders. 7.2L/12 = 600cc per cylinder

supercharged: has a supercharger. forces more air into the engine, powered by the crankshaft (as opposed to turbochargers which are powered by the exhaust)

YOU - Run your fingers over one of the steering levers. COUPRIS KINEEMA - The white suede feels luxurious under the touch and the metal clutch handle so very familiar in your palm... INTERFACING - Your fingers waste no time closing around the handle. Clutch disengaged. Release the handle -- clutch drops -- right foot yearns for the familiar touch of the accelerator pedal. You have synced with the machine's mechanical circulation.

YOU - "A *driver* would wear down their right shoe before the left -- the accelerator is on the right. And remember that abandoned lorry cabin we found?"

steering levers: instead of a steering wheel. not exactly sure how they'd work. I *really* don't want it to have differential steering like a zero-turn mower looking at this video of kim driving it looks like the front wheels are the ones steering

clutch handle: instead of a pedal, the clutch is a handle on one of the levers. seems that accelerator and (probably) brake are still pedals

accelerator is on the right: does everyone left-foot brake??? I guess if the clutch handle is standard then that would make sense

ABANDONED LORRY - The glass on the side windows is tinted and covered with dust. You can barely make out the shape of a seat and two steering levers. [...] YOU - Check the pedals. ABANDONED LORRY - You wedge yourself under the steering-wheel to get a better look. Seems like the few tools lying around here -- a hammer, a pair of pliers, a rusty wrench -- have been casually thrown there by the disorganized driver. ABANDONED LORRY - But one odd detail does catch your eye: A piece of sandpaper has been glued to the throttle.

STEERING WHEEL TYPO

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alright, let's actually take a look at this thing

two door: the kineema has a single driver's seat and two seats in the back. looks like you'd need to move the front seat forward to let anyone else in

suspension: the back wheels look like they have some sort of spring (the axle is connected to it, so how are the wheels being driven??? same with the coupris 40). I assume the front arms also act as a spring

rear view mirror: looks like there's no rear view mirror, since you wouldn't see shit

aerodynamics: bad

seat belts:

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#disco elysium #coupris kineema #de

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march-hare01 · 8 months

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The XC Ford Falcon Cobra GS Hardtop was launched in August 1978. Each of the XC Cobras were given there own serial number and a build number plaque from 1 to 400 which was placed on the dashboard. From number 2 to 31 were know as 'Option 97' {also known as Bathurst Cobras}, which were fitted with optional parts for homologation to compete in the Australian Touring Car Championship. Including the 5.8 Litre 351 V8, a larger radiator with twin thermo fans, transmission oil cooler, front suspension tower braces, reworked wheel housings and racing seats. They were identified by a large rear-opening bonnet scoop. The remaining 370 standard Cobras, 170 were equipped with the 351 (5.8-litre 162kW/429Nm) and the next 200 with the 302 (4.9-litre 151kW/364Nm). All featured “nostril” bonnet scoops and spoilers, Globe Bathurst 15x7 alloy wheels, four-wheel disc brakes and a limited slip diff.Price when new for a 1978 XC Cobra GS 5.8 Litre 351ci V8 four speed manual Hardtop: $10.100.00Released: August 1978Total produced: 400

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coryothesub · 2 months

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A Useful Present

nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / dom!reader

“Oh thank you, angel!” you took the gift box from Coryo's hands and pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

It was a neatly packaged box, adorned with a red satin ribbon and a single white rose tied into the bow. One of his signature little gestures.

You loved the sheer excitement of him watching you as you were undoing the ribbon. This time you noticed a hint of that bratty cocky smirk on his face. What could that possibly mean?

You figured that out as soon as you opened the gift and found another box with instructions written in bright pink on its side.

“Multifunctional vibrating dildo,” you read out loud. “Suitable for your every need.”

“You've been having dirty thoughts, Coriolanus?” you tilted Coryo's chin up and looked at him with a quizzical grin on your face.

“Were you fantasizing about me using this?” you taunted him.

Coryo looked at you, so wideyed and endearing looking like a little boy who'd been caught doing some mischief.

“Did you think I would let you watch, while I fuck my pussy on your present?”

You could see that the boy was getting aroused at the thought and you pulled at his blonde curls slightly yanking his head back.

“Have you lost your ability to speak, darling?”

“Y-yes…” Coryo blurted out, not sure whether he would get rewarded or punished. You hadn't decided about that either.

“Such a naughty boy,” you whispered just a few millimeters from his deliciously parted lips, before sliding the tip of the dildo in between them.

“Suck it!” you commanded, and watched him obey with content. The boy was sucking and swallowing around the thick object as you pushed it deeper down his throat.

“Open it up, love!” you hummed, amused by his struggles as the toy touched the back of his throat, making him gag.

You pulled the whole thing out, glossy and wet with Coryo's saliva.

The boy coughed a couple of times and looked at you while catching his breath, his eyes cloudy and lips slightly swollen. Simply adorable.

“You look so pretty!” you mused before getting back to the users manual.

“It says it can be used by everyone for all kinds of stimulation. So why don't we let you have the first ride, huh?”

Coryo's eyes widened as he started to realize where your mind was going.

“B-but I have never inserted anything in there. What if it hurts?” he stuttered adorably.

“Mommy will be gentle with you,” you reassured him and shut his pretty little mouth with a gentle kiss before he could think of any more protests.

A few moments later you both were completely naked and Coryo was standing on his all fours in your bed.

You grabbed the small lube bottle that came with your new toy and poured the transparent liquid on his hole, making him shiver at the cool sensation.

The tip of your thumb teased his opening as you noticed him trying to bring his hand down to his hardening cock.

“Did I allow you to touch yourself?” he heard your stern voice above him and put his hand back on the sheets.

You replaced your thumb with your pointer and middle fingers and pushed them against the tiny opening, causing Coryo to let out a cute whimper.

Smirking with content, you continued to push deeper, opening him up inch by inch. He felt so warm and tight around your digits.

You continued your movements at an easy pace and made contact with the sensitive spot inside him, making his erect member twitch.

“Feels good, mommy,” the boy moaned, amazed by the new sensations.

You pulled your fingers out of him and replaced them with the thick dildo, carefully inserting it in his tight little hole deeper and deeper with each movement.

“I need to touch myself,” Coryo whined, feeling his cock getting so damn achy and sensitive.

“Shhhh, baby, mommy will make you come, just be patient,” you leaned down beside him and hummed into his ear, gradually speeding up your movements.

You didn't even have to switch on the vibration, it was enough with the tip of the toy making contact with his prostate for him to become a whiny little mess under your complete control. The way you made him feel without even touching him directly made you incredibly wet.

“Please…” Coryo mouthed in the air, not capable of wording what he needed. You were fucking him faster and harder with each thrust and his neglected member became so sensitive that he felt tears forming along his waterline.

“I can't do this any longer,” the boy whispered helplessly, legs shaking and large tears running down his cheeks. The forceful stimulation made his limbs feel weak and he felt like he was about to sink down into the sheets completely powerless at any given moment.

“Then cum for me, baby!” you instructed and pushed the whole silicone length inside him watching thick ropes of cum spurting from his dick and messing up the sheets beneath him.

You pulled out the toy watching as Coryo's limbs gave up and he laid down onto the mess he had just made in complete exhaustion.

You crawled around his trembling frame and brushed away a stray curl that was sticking to his glistening forehead.

“You did good, babyboy,” you cooed, planting small kisses on his flushed cheeks. “Now I'm gonna need you to lie on your back and put those pretty slender legs as high as you can.”

A glimpse of despair flashed in Coryo's teary eyes.

“You want me to….? I can't, this is too much already.”

“I know you can do one more,” you replied, caressing his cheek. “Otherwise I wouldn't ask you, angel.”

Coryo complied reluctantly and soon he was laying on his back and holding at his ankles, completely spread out for you, his pink flaccid cock laying on his flat stomach, a delightful view for your eyes.

You licked your lips at the pretty sight and grabbed the dildo, making Coryo's body tremble at the thought alone.

“Don't worry, baby! Mommy will help you this time.”

You leaned forward and wrapped your hand around his sensitive cock, giving it a few gentle strokes. Coryo let out a tiny whimper, his chest heaving.

Continuing to pump him at a lazy pace you brought your face to his fucked out hole and began circling motions around it with your tongue.

“Oooh,” Coryo moaned as he was getting acquainted with the new sensation of your tongue teasing his opening. You smirked against his hole and spit on the sensitive skin before pushing the tip of your tongue deeper inside his warm tightness and starting to move your head back and forth.

You heard Coryo moan above you and felt his dick growing hard in your hand. Your tongue kept dancing around his hole causing a series of lovely sounds to escape his lips.

“Fuck, mommy this is perfect,” you heard praises above your head.

You licked a wet stripe upwards to his balls and gently sucked on the tender skin continuing to stroke his rock hard cock. Your hand brought the side of the dildo next to your mouth and you pushed the button starting the lowest vibration mode.

Coryo gasped sharply, surprised by the sudden vibration against his sensitive flesh.

You proceeded with your ministrations, watching his beautiful face as he was panting and moaning under your touch. Your hands combined with your lips and the buzzing object against his most sensitive areas was just too much for him to bear.

He turned his head to the side and sank his teeth into the pillow trying to hold back tears. But they ran down his reddened cheeks anyway, leaving wet stains on the pillow as his lips kept begging without words.

You felt your juices overflowing and dripping down your thighs as your sweet boy was laying before you broken by his own pleasure.

Your tongue moved up along the base of his handsome cock, catching the pink tip between your lips while you slowly inserted the toy back into his hole.

You felt his body convulsing at the sensation as the vibrating object was making its way inside him dangerously close to his sensitive spot. The buzzing silicone tip finally touched his prostate causing his cock to twitch against your tongue.

“Aaaaah! Mommy, I…” you smirked against his overstimulated member seeing that the boy wasn't even able to get out a single coherent word. He was just a teary, moaning mess, trembling and whining under your touch.

“You gonna cum for me, babyboy?” you encouraged him, pushing the dildo against his sweet spot and letting his cock out of your mouth for the final burst of pleasure. “C'mon, just let yourself go!”

Coryo let out a desperate groan and his cock twitched, shooting a massive load all over his own stomach and chest. He looked so delightful covered in white, pearly drops, his brain short circuiting from pleasure.

You pulled the toy out of him leaving the vibration on and crawled up his side, settling yourself above his face. You brought it between your legs and it only took a few seconds of you teasing your throbbing clit for you to cum hard all over Coryo's pretty face.

Your juices mixed with his tears as he rushed to lap up every last drop of your sweet release.

You laid down next to him and wrapped your arms around his exhausted body letting your fingers play with his blonde messy curls. You felt that he was still trembling from the earth shattering orgasms he had just experienced.

“Did you like it, babyboy?” you hummed against his warm lips.

“It was phenomenal,” he replied in a soft, exhausted voice. “You always know how to make me feel best.”

“This time was your lovely present,” you smiled at him thinking what to do with your newfound knowledge about Coryo’s fondness towards back-door pleasures. Perhaps, you should buy a strap-on for the next time.

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celestiaonlyknows · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 10: Albedo- Sex Machine

R18+ Minors Do Not Interact

Read on Ao3. <- Day 9 Day 11 ->

“One, ah, thank you. Two, uhmah… thank you.” You moan out as you feel the invention piston the dildo in and out of you at a blinding speed.

When you agreed to test out the new machine Albedo had created for an experiment you had no idea it would be like this. Now you were face down on an exam table with your ass up in the air and arms pinned behind your back. The machine worked at an even pace as it moved the toy in and out of you. It had you panting and dripping all over the table while it continued to pleasure you with no need for respite.

Albedo sat and observed you with a cold look in his teal eyes while noting something on his chart. He sits in the wooden chair with his legs crossed, though you have a feeling it's to hide the obvious arousal he had at the current situation. Still, watching him observe you in such an even and calculated manner excites you more.

“Keep counting,” Albedo instructed as you forgot to announce your third orgasm. “I can’t accurately note the effectiveness of this machine if you don’t tell me how many times it makes you climax.”

“Three, sorry,” you apologize with a small whine as you feel another beginning to build.

“No need, though a thank you would be nice,” Albedo said with a mischievous smirk that told you all you needed to about how much he was enjoying this. It was always the quiet ones like him that no one suspected, after all.

“Thank you, ah, four thank you,” you manage in quick succession.

“Very good,” Albedo says before standing–his hard-on obvious now through his shorts as he moves to turn off the machine when you slur something along the lines of five and thank you. “Five in such a short amount of time. Quiet fascinating indeed.”

He makes the note in his chart before unfastening you and giving your forehead a quick kiss. It made you feel warm as he held you, even in the cold of his lab in Dragonspine.

“Shall we move to the manual part of the experiment? Or would you prefer to rest first?” Albedo asked as he bundled you up in a blanket and pulled you into his lap.

“Sleep,” you murmur and he chuckles before kissing your head.

“Of course, whatever you want,” he agrees before humming a song as you drift off to sleep.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #Albedo #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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paperbackribs · 4 months

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werewolf steve, werebat eddie (ch2)

🦇🧥🦇

Eddie’s knee bounces in the stationary van parked outside the Harrington house; he stares down at the open Dungeons and Dragons Monster Manual clutched between his arms, flipping between the werewolf and the dire wolf. A drawing of the former has it standing upright, muscled and snarling with outstretched claws; his eyes are drawn to chaotic evil.

He knows that Steve isn’t evil. He does. The man who had spent hours next to Eddie at his hospital bedside showed an honour and trustworthiness that had drawn Eddie in even before he’d recognised it.

No, the caring guy he’s come to know is about as far from an alignment that lacks compassion and kills for sport as someone could get. That Steve is capable of wielding a nail-bat against the monsters of the Upside Down only lends an appealingly chaotic feel to the man Eddie had begun to think of as a rogue knight.

Sighing, he flips to the other page held open by his spare hand: dire wolf. Unaligned and a beast advantaged by its pack, this seems like Steve’s speed. Resembling his transformed self more acutely with its simple, albeit large wolf appearance. His finger stops on the bloodied maw, but the idea of it is still terrifying.

Reluctantly, he turns to the page he’s now memorised by heart. Man-shaped, this monster growls with open fangs too; sharp tapered ears are fixed on a figure draped in an aristocratic overcoat and cape. Finger trembling, he traces undead and lawful evil before pausing over bat polymorph as one of the vampire’s characteristics.

A loud bang smacks against the side of the van and Eddie jumps high enough to hit his head on the Chevrolet’s roof. “Ow, Christ!” He hisses, rubbing the sore spot and glaring at Dustin grinning at him through the closed window.

“Come on,” he shouts, “Everyone’s here!”

Eddie scowls, leaving behind the manual to tumble out of the van. Dustin immediately starts pushing him from behind and Eddie whacks at him with his hands, “Lay off, man. I’m coming, okay.”

Dustin hums doubtfully, “Yeah, but I watched you sit in the van for the last ten minutes and that was only after I noticed you’d arrived. Who knows how long it was going to take you?”

He quickly opens the front door before Dustin pushes him right smack into it, but the younger boy continues shoving at Eddie until he stumbles into Steve’s living room. In a similar configuration to yesterday’s intervention, the party sits, lounges, or stands about the room, quietly talking.

On the couch, Robin sits cross-legged with Steve who’s flipping through a magazine. Eddie’s relieved to see that all four limbs are human-shaped, and mouth only curved into a soft pout as he contemplates the article in front of him.

Everyone pauses to look over at their loud entrance. Steve glances up and, meeting his calm expression, Eddie almost blushes at how uncoordinated he must have looked falling through the door. He averts his gaze to El who approaches him with an outstretched palm, “Are you ready?”

Eddie sighs but takes her hand; she leads him to the open floor and they sit across from each other, “Yeah, we might as well do this. So, you’re going to force the bat out or something?”

“There’s no guarantee that you can shift,” Lucas leans back against the wall next to Will with casually folded arms. “You could be a normal human with bat scars and that’s it.”

“Or I could be a vampire of the night,” Eddie counters darkly. “I’ve been craving meat lately.”

Max rolls her eyes, “You have not, you big liar. I saw you scoffing down Honey Crunch on your front porch only two days ago.”

“Yeah, well, I was high. Maybe weed mellows out the beast.”

Eddie’s gaze flies to Steve when he snorts, but Steve looks away, concentrating on the magazine that Eddie suddenly suspects he’s not actually reading.

The thought that he’s avoiding Eddie stirs a familiar sense of guilt, giving rise to the niggle that he’d tried to forget after the wolf left yesterday, further punctuated by Robin’s distinct stink-eye. Even amidst the fear that had gripped him, he’d been able to see a sad, dejected version of Steve in the down-turned tail and slow trudge away.

“I'm going to take you into the void,” El says, holding out both her hands over her knees and Eddie takes them at her urging. “When I visit Steve there, he is able to feel the wolf and communicate with him.”

“I sort of see him next to me, if it helps,” Steve finally pipes up, watching Eddie warily like he’s expecting him to reject the advice, but Eddie only nods grimly. He’s going to need all the tips he can get he suspects. “Do I let it possess me or something?”

Steve frowns, a hint of reproach about him, “My wolf doesn’t posses me, he is me. Just like I’m him.” He shakes his head at Eddie’s confusion, “If you have a bat or a vampire or, I don’t know, maybe you’ll have a wolf too, then just reach out to him. He wants to be a part of you and you’ll both figure it out from there.”

Eddie looks into the steady gaze of Steve’s hazel eyes and feels it like a hand over his own: Steve has done this before, and successfully. He just needs to trust in the rogue knight one more time. “Okay,” he says, closing his eyes and following El’s lead.

🐺🐺🐺

Steve throws his Fine Gardening magazine onto the coffee table and leans against Robin’s shoulder, she presses back. “Does it usually take this long with me,” he murmurs, trying to keep quiet for the two sitting silently in the middle of the room. Both El and Eddie have their eyes closed and hands clasped with the other. Max had turned the television to a snowy channel to help channel El’s concentration with the static sound.

She hums a negative, “But then, you two only did it to play around and see if there was more you could learn about yourself. This is Eddie trying to find out whether he even has another version to turn into.”

She grabs his arm suddenly, “Wait.” Steve blinks, unsure of what he’d seen other than to describe it as a pulse around Eddie. A long beat passes before the trick of the eye flickers again, so quickly that Steve can’t be sure of what he’s seeing.

In one rapid swoop, the air around Eddie contracts, pulling abruptly inwards until Eddie the human disappears to be replaced with a bat standing unsteadily in front of El. He blinks wide eyes, faltering on tiny feet before stumbling over to land on his back.

Eddie squawks in what Steve thinks is shock before frantically flapping his extended wings and tossing over to push up into the air, erratically darting around the suddenly panicking humans.

With one wing beating harder than the other, he drunkenly tilts and rolls into Mike’s long hair. Shrieking, Mike pulls Eddie out and flings him away even while crying out, “Shit! Sorry, Eddie! Sorry!”

Eddie cries out himself and flutters, gaining his momentum only to slam into the wall with a thump next to Dustin who leaps forward trying to catch him, but Eddie desperately twists before leaping higher, aiming for the peak of the ceiling.

“Catch him,” Will yells as Lucas runs out of the room.

“I’m trying,” Dustin shrieks in a tone that matches the high screeches of Eddie above them.

Robin shrugs off her boxy jacket, “Wait, I’ve got this.” She advances on Eddie as he zig zags against the wall again, but he must see her as a large threatening animal because he chitters wildly before smacking his wings at her face. Robin yelps and falls, only narrowly avoiding hitting her head on the ground by Max urgently jumping underneath to stop her rapid descent.

Lucas skids into the living room, triumphantly holding aloft the large pool skimmer usually stored in the garden shed. “Steve,” he yells before throwing it across the room.

Steve deftly catches the long handle in the air and, with a twist of his wrist, scoops Eddie mid-flight. Quickly flipping the pole, he entangles his small body in the net.

Panting or, in Mike’s case, holding down his hair, the group silently gather around the squirming bat version of Eddie as he shrieks and tries to bite his way out of the thin rope.

Steve thinks of his first fumbling and panicked steps: the distinct difference between having two legs extended to four, not even at the right height, let alone the terror of suddenly having a completely different way of looking and feeling the world had been indescribable. There are still scratches in the wooden floorboards from how hard he had dug his claws in to stop his legs from skidding in all directions.

“Back up, guys,” he says softly, keeping his tone low and soothing. “Hey, Eddie, hey,” he shushes, positioning the net against his torso so he can roll Eddie out of the mesh without letting him escape. Everyone steps back or sits in a chair, and Steve brings Eddie higher up to his chest so he can meet the eyes of the little guy.

Although his thinking or way of interpreting his surroundings may be a little different, Steve is always aware of the world as he would be as a human, and he can see that it’s the same for Eddie. The big wet eyes of his bat form aren’t that different from his human ones, Steve thinks, a little amused even while worried at how hard Eddie is panting.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, “You’re okay, you’re with friends, and this isn’t permanent. You’re just a bat for a little bit, Eddie, and you’ll be human in no time. Okay? You’re okay.” He keeps repeating reassuring nonsense, keeping his fingers firmly wrapped around squirming wings and resting Eddie against his heart.

As a wolf, Steve likes to lay his head over Robin’s heart, likes the proof that she is alive and well under him, and often finds himself calming under her steady thump, thump, thump.

Under his fingers, he can feel the frantic thrumming of Eddie’s heart start to calm too.

“That’s good,” he croons softly, stroking his thumb over the soft down of Eddie’s head. He takes stock of the little body in front of him: over Eddie’s nose the bridge is one long stripe of white, the rest of him covered in a deep brown while the ruff of his neck is almost golden, his ears are tapered as is the long tip of his pink tongue.

They all watch while Steve successfully calms Eddie as if he is a baby cradled to him. “Do you think that’s a were thing?” Asks Lucas, peering at Eddie as his breathing slows down, he blinks back up at him.

“I don’t know,” Will says thoughtfully, “Steve is pretty soothing to have around.” El nods while Mike shoots his friend a look of betrayal.

Steve rolls his eyes, “He was just scared. Look, now he’s had a moment to chill he’s with us again.” And, sure enough, little Eddie’s eyes are drooping as Steve continues to lightly pat him, clearly relaxing into the comforting gesture. He loosens his hold, still keeping a firm grip but not so tightly in fear of Eddie struggling again.

Max snorts as she peers down, “Oh yeah, there’s the big bad metalhead everyone fears.”

Eddie’s closing eyes snap open with a glare and he squeaks at her. Unfortunately, Steve thinks, the cuteness of it all only supports Max’s teasing. Robin meets his eyes over the kids’ heads and silently laughs in agreement.

“Okay,” Steve orders, “I think the lot of us in the same room may be too much for him right now. You guys skedaddle and we’ll let you know when he’s back to rights.”

Dustin looks doubtful, “What can you do that we can’t?”

Robin snorts, “Uh, Dusty-bun, Steve is literally the expert in this room when it comes to were-changes. You can’t research your way out of this one.”

Dustin grumps, “I could. If we didn’t have Steve, I could absolutely be the one to help him get back to normal.” He turns to the backpack shoved against the table. “Here,” he says, pulling out two books with photos of bats across the covers. Steve peers further into the bag and can see back-ups that apparently didn’t pass muster. “These are the books I brought on bats. If he starts craving blood, let me know — I have more on vampires when he needs them.”

Max takes them from his hands while Lucas steers Dustin towards the front door, where they’d left their bikes outside. Mike mutters a mocking noise that sounds like skedaddle and, with that, the room falls silent once more.

Robin and Steve look over at Max as she falls back onto the couch with El quickly following behind. She stares back belligerently, “What? Mom dropped me off and Eddie was our ride back.” El crosses her arms with a serene smile.

Steve sighs, “Okay, but we’re not doing anything exciting and you guys are making dinner.” The girls readily agree, heating leftovers from Steve’s fridge and serving the four of them as they sit in the living room, eating while watching a Bewitched marathon. At Steve’s instruction, Robin had brought down his blue hoodie with its tunnel-like pocket over his belly.

Little Eddie had curled up inside of it and Steve keeps one hand over him to provide what he hopes feels like shelter and comfort; under it, he can feel the heat of his small body and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“You look like you’re pregnant,” Robin acerbically observes from the other end of the couch, feet crossed into her lap for the lotus position.

“Does that mean that I can finally eat butterscotch ice cream without you making that face?” He counters with a bitchy expression back.

“What face?” She protests even as she makes The Face. Max rises her brow to Steve, “Why does she look like that?”

“That summer at Scoops maybe put her off some flavours for life,” he shares. El ignores them all in favour of watching Samantha wiggling her nose to float Darrin out of a tree.

“If I have to smell USS Butterscotch one more time, I’m going to puke — lack of pregnancy be damned,” Robin warns.

The commercials blares once Samantha finishes rescuing her husband, and El moves to peek inside the hoodie, tentatively extending a finger and gasping when Eddie’s little bat foot comes out to grip it. “He feels so soft.”

Steve snickers at Robin and he thinks he feels what’s supposed to be a bat bite through the cotton in retaliation, but it’s hard to tell with the lack of sharp fangs behind it. He sobers for the younger members of the room, “Yeah, but he can’t stay this way forever. Can you sense anything from him, El?”

She closes her eyes while continuing to hold Eddie’s foot, “He is not upset like earlier, but I don’t think he is ready to come back to being human-Eddie yet either.”

Steve looks worriedly down at the bump over his stomach, “Is he okay? I ran around a lot at first too, but once I figured out what was happening I tried to turn human again as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, but you also didn’t know that it was possible to turn back to human,” Robin points out. “He could be chilling ‘cause he knows that everything is going to be okay.”

El hums, “No, I do not think that’s it.” She shrugs, gently untangling Eddie’s clawed toes to lean back into Max who shifts an arm and drapes it over El’s shoulders comfortingly. “But he is not willing to share either. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Robin reassures her as she peeks into the other end of the pocket, smirking as she waggles a playful finger at him. Steve can see the wide, wet eyes of Eddie peeking out at her in curiosity. “Maybe he knows that he’s cuter as a bat than as a stinky human boy.”

Eddie glares and snaps his small teeth in the air before sullenly turning, curling up and facing the other way. Once again, a small hidden lump in the hoodie. Steve sighs, “We’ll give him the night and, if he’s not back tomorrow, maybe you can look for him in the void, El? Ask him what’s going on or guide him back to being human again. Whatever it is that he needs since it’s not working for him right now.”

He glances at the stairs, “Do you guys want to stay over? You can sleep in one of the spare rooms?”

“I call third bedroom,” Robin calls, standing up decisively, “Second bedroom has a weird smell.” She points her finger at Steve’s opening mouth, “I don’t care if you can’t smell anything, which, weird. Since you’re the one with the super nose these days.”

She grimaces and says more quietly, “I don’t think I can bunk up tonight, all the screaming got me…” She waggles her hand around her ears and Steve nods, knowing that she needs some quiet time after a lot of stimulation.

Max smirks and takes El by the hand, “That’s cool, we can’t smell whatever weirdo smell your nose is picking up. Night guys.” The girls wave before heading upstairs and Steve shuts off the television.

Picking his way through the house he double checks that the windows and doors are locked before turning off the lights and heading to bed. Lying down, he snuggles little Eddie to him, the small body already curled on top of his chest and asleep.

If you enjoyed anything of this I hope you'll consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 - it would make my day! 💖🦇🐺💖

#steddie #swift wings and a brave heart #this is just a fun fic while I edit Copper Boy so I'm not being too formal with blogging. as you can see lol #for any newbies - I always post on ao3 first before blogging if you're wondering why you're seeing this chapter #werewolf steve harrington #bat eddie munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things

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the-ace-with-spades · 6 months

Text

little snippet from a buddie outsider pov future fic that i probably won't ever finish because its part 3 of a series, or aka the Bobby-fication of Buck

"I was told to report to Captain Diaz?"

The man, with Diaz clearly written on his name tag, stares. It's not the most friendly of stares but it's not that kind of a stare and Kori had his fair share of them as a brown boy who consistently used public transport and worked night shifts. He'd expected to have a welcome that wasn't the warmest but he at least wanted some kind of verbal acknowledgment.

Well, this is awkward, he thinks, why is he not saying anything?

Kori woke up bright and early today, excited and anxious for his first day, over an hour before his alarm started blasting, and then made sure he had his bag packed with all the essentials he would need on a twenty-four shift. Four different sets of clothes, five meals in Tupperware, protein bars, a book, headphones, towel, shampoo and shower gel, the basic firefighting manual from the academy and his paramedic textbooks. He prepared to be too prepared rather than embarrass himself by asking to borrow shampoo on his first day.

He arrived at the firehouse via Uber because public transport in LA couldn't be reliable and he also couldn't afford a car and then he had stood panicked on the side of the truck bay for about fifteen minutes before checking his email again for the right names — Captain Diaz, 118 Ladder Company — all along to the schedule in his head.

And now the guy, he's just—standing there. Staring at Kori like he's debating whether he should eat him alive or roast in the oven beforehand.

The thing is, Kori knows he’s disappointing for a firefighter. He’s barely five foot seven, five foot six without the boots, really, and he’s lean and slim, in a way that would make some people doubt whether he can carry a person out of a burning building — he can — and he’s, well, he’s average.

But the One-Eighteen is stuck with him for the year, he might be average and disappointing, it just doesn’t matter. Because they are stuck with him.

He still hasn’t seen Firefighter Buckley.

"Are you Captain Diaz?"

He looks a bit young, for a captain, but he is pretty sure there have been younger ones in the history of LAFD. And Diaz is a common surname, in California, or common enough that it wouldn’t be impossible to have two people with it in the firehouse even if still a bit improbable.

"Oh," he says, looking down at the nametag on his chest, finally noticing where Kori's been glancing at the whole time. "Sorry, kid, that would be my husband. I'm Lieutenant Paramedic Diaz."

Kori, he must admit to himself, blinks at him like he had just spoken in Mandarin and not English. Because there are two Diazes in the firehouse. And both of them are his officers. And they’re married.

The—The lieutenant crosses his arms over his chest, puffing up like a peacock, and narrows his eyes. “Do we have a problem?”

“No, sir,” he says, immediately. “I didn’t know they allowed married couples to work together, that’s all.”

The lieutenant still looks at him like he's trying to assess the deepest secrets of his soul and raises one eyebrow at him like he expects a fight but his shoulders fall slightly. He's, uhm, very handsome, even this angry, in that foxy dad kind of way that Kori's never been interested in but knew it was a thing.

"My husband and I worked together for seven years before we married, I think we've proved we can stay professional," he says and it sounds a bit like a threat. "He's in the office downstairs. You should report to him before you're late to your first shift."

He smiles but Kori has a feeling it's a mean smile.

Kori does go back downstairs, passes the rest of the loft and walks past the kitchen where he sees three other firefighters, quietly eating breakfast. The conversation stops and they all collectively look up at him. He probably should say something or wave or anything so it's not awkward but no, he just speed-walks into the narrow corridor that — he hopes — leads to the offices.

He passes two doors before he finds the right one. There is a brand new plate hanging on the side of it, shiny and not dusty at all, with Capt. Diaz and Lt. Diaz written on it and the door is wide open — someone is in the closet in the back, from what it seems, going over documents or something that makes a similar rustling sound. Kori moves into the doorframe, going for a knock, when he realizes.

There's no door. Nothing, just an empty door frame with taped down hinges. There's no way for him to knock.

He clears his throat as loudly as he can.

There are two desks inside, one with a brand new plate of Capt. Diaz and one with slightly less shiny Lt Diaz on it. It looks like any other office, slightly bare on the shelves but also full of diplomas and official pictures of past officers hanging on the walls. There's also a framed drawing made by an elementary school kid, or Kori guessed it was an elementary school kid, of a firefighter in bunker gear, dead center on the wall behind the captain's desk, and a couple of photos of what he assumes is the station's crew, all in their dress uniforms — he can't see it very well.

The captain's desk is full, with another frame standing on the edge, three pencil holders filled to the brim, multiple kinds of colorful stationery, and stacks of documents and folders cluttering the countertop. There's even a freaking fidget spinner on it — he hasn't seen one since freshman year in high school. It's a mess but Kori knows that even being a probationary firefighter would mean way too much paperwork for a job that was technically blue collar. The new captain wasn't just a new captain, he was also newly-qualified to be a captain so Kori suspects he probably is barely keeping up with the forms and documents as of right now — it's a learning curve.

The lieutenant's desk also holds a couple of frames but there's only a small pencil case and a neatly arranged stack of folders lying in an even more neatly arranged corner.

And wow. That's Firefighter Buckley, even more awe-inspiring than he was eleven years ago

He looks at Kori with a half-smile stuck on his face but with a frown on his forehead. There are wrinkles around his eyes, forming like laughter lines. He tilts his head and Kori thinks—Kori thinks this is it, he remembers me, he—

"Khorshed Patwari, was it?" he asks and his grin looks the same, almost — there’s more wrinkles, around his eyes and on his forehead, and his face seems a bit softer, but it’s like a memory refresher. "Am I pronouncing it right?"

It's stupid — Firefighter Buckley saved probably hundreds if not thousands of people, he's been a firefighter for at least twelve years, probably, and Kori is just one of those faces he had seen for a minute or two. Easily forgotten. Average. It's understandable that he doesn't remember him, he would probably be more surprised if he did remember him.

"Everyone calls me Kori," he says, after clearing his throat. He knows he’s gaping like a fish, a bit, but he can’t help it — Firefighter Buckly looks almost unchanged and he can’t believe he’s here.

"With the h?"

He blinks. "Sorry?"

"Do you keep the h in Kori?" he clarified, huffing a small chuckle out. "I want to know how to spell it correctly in the future."

"Just Kori, uhm, K-O-R-I, is okay," he explains, still star-struck.

"Uhm," he says eloquently. "I'm looking for Captain Diaz? I was supposed to report to him?"

"That would be me," Firefighter Buckley says and—Oh. He’s a captain and he’s—he’s married to a man that’s the station's lieutenant. He's not really Firefighter Buckley anymore, is he? "Although most people just call me Buck, or Cap, if you really must."

#yes bobby took out the door to the office before he retired so buck and eddie wouldn't do the nasty in there #im saying goodbye to drafts that turned from wips into ufos #buddie #911 fox #911 abc #op #charlie writes

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