#he's got like one new move and it's easy to deflect

[benevolentslut]

it's 6am and im going to bed after beating both the severance and shura gauntlets in sekiro one after another

#it unlocked the mortal journey one when i did so I'll probably give that a crack tomorrow #every boss in the game one after another with the hardest three at the end. of course. #watch me beat it first try 🤡 #edit: actually inner genichiro is not one of the 3 hardest bosses sorry #he's got like one new move and it's easy to deflect #if you just keep up a relentless attack and parry when he tries to break free #and firecracker him near the start of his flurry attack #there is jack shit he can do

[writingsonsaturn]

fake dating with tim bradford?

r needs a date to a family members wedding and she wants to go with a friend and tim is more than willing. unrequited love and maybe a little smut??

dress - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: omg 2 fics in one day?? anyways this is nastyyy smut lmfao enjoy!

word count: 2.2k

content warning: minors DNI, smut, oral (fem rec), fingering, talk of emotionally abusive parents?? if i missed anything lmk!

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Your head bobbed with stress, your sister's wedding was this weekend and you still hadn't been able to find a date willing to accompany you. You had thought it would be easy, the moment you mentioned there would be an open bar you imagined people would be more than willing, but alas you had been wrong.

“Hey, L/n! You almost finished with the case file?” your friend and coworker Tim Bradford asked, “yeah it's finished” you replied with a sigh. “Then what are you stressin’ over?” He sat in front of your desk with a comforting smile, “my sister's wedding is this Saturday and I need a date, but havent got one yet.” you let out an exasperated sigh. 

Your mother has been on your case lately about getting your life ‘in order’. Constantly being compared to your sister was exhausting, you were never fast enough to catch up to your sister's achievements, and none of your own were good enough. “I’ll go with you” Tim interrupted your self-deprecating thoughts, “oh god Tim, you don't have to.” you tried to deflect but Tim insisted “hey, come on it'll be fun! And your mom already knows me so it'll be more believable if i'm your date then some random dude you met on tinder.” You smiled at his kindness.

You packed up your stuff, dropping your case file onto Greys desk. “Alright, well you can’t back out now. Saturday, suit and tie, four o’ clock.” you stated, pointing your finger at him. He smiled “wouldn't miss seeing you in a fancy dress for the world!” he shouted at you with a laugh.

Tim had always been your secret little work crush, he was kind to you and always had been. You both had a similar upbringing, and you bonded over that aspect. You had transferred into the precinct after moving from Orange County, you had decided you needed a new start and the LAPD had an opening for a detective and you decided to take the opportunity.

Your mother was less than pleased that you would be moving an hour away, but you were desperate to get out of her grasp. 

When you left the station your cheeks were red, and flushed. A big smile was present on your face at the image of Tim being your date to your sister’s wedding. Besides the fact he was insanely good looking, he was also just a sweet and gentle guy. Which was the complete opposite of your sister’s soon-to-be husband, and you finally felt as if you were one step ahead of your sister for the first time in your life.

On Saturday morning, you got up earlier than usual to start getting ready. Your stomach had been twisted with butterflies all morning, your dress was a navy blue fitted dress with a slit that went to your mid thigh and had a square neck. The dress flattered every aspect of your body, your hair was done in a half up half down style with a slight wave, and your shoes were black heels with securing straps going up your calf and tying just under your knee.

The sound of your heartbeat quickened as the numbers on the clock counted up towards the time you had given Tim, as if the direct moment the clock struck four there was a knock on your front door. 

Walking to the front door felt like it was taking forever, every millisecond it took you to walk to the door made your body fill with that much more anxiety. You opened the door to see Tim standing in a nice black tuxedo and a bowtie, “Oh wow, you know i’ve never seen you in a tux before but i think i like it” you snorted, walking out and closing the door to lock it. “Y/n you look-” Tim seemed flabbergasted, looking you up and down “you look absolutely beautiful” he finished his compliment. 

You blushed at his comment whispering a silent “thank you” before you both walked to the car, Tim opened the passenger side door for you. He ran around the backside of the car to get into the driver's side, “are you ready?” he asked with a small hint of reassurement. “Yeah! Let’s get this party started.” your voice was flat and lacked enthusiasm causing Tim to let out a hushed laugh. 

The venue wasn’t far, but the high tension in the car made the journey feel like an eternity. Tim barely looked at you and his knuckles were bright white with the grip he had on the steering wheel, you weren’t sure what was wrong, and you were scared to find out. You wondered if it was possibly because of the current case he was working, you knew he was put on the task of finding the drug lord and breaking into his circle but he hadn’t told you much about it.

You had simply just let it be, not wanting anything to cause your sister’s night to be ruined. Looking to your right you watch the trees pass, you become further and further away from the city. 

The wedding had gone as good as expected, your sister was giddy and excited to finally solidify her man as her husband. Tim had to hand you a tissue after your sister said her vows, although the two of you had hardships she was still your big sister and you were more than happy for her.

“Fancy seeing you here Tim, I didn’t think y/n was going to show up with anyone. Let alone someone as handsome as you.” your mother remarked, causing your mood to dampen. Tim’s arm went around your waist, pulling you towards his body, “Actually, I wanted to be here. I'm surprised I got a chance with such a great woman” Tim’s stern face glared at your mother’s as he told her off, politely. 

You hid your small smile, as your mother left with an annoyed look.

“Your mom is just ridiculous,” Tim laughed.

“Oh god, I know! I'm so sorry” you said with embarrassment.

You and Tim talked on your way up to the reception hall, the conversation flowed naturally. 

For a second, and only just a second, you allowed yourself to imagine Tim as your lover, the ease that came with talking to him made him feel like a breath of fresh air. Your heart deflated when the false reality you had encapsulated yourself in for a second was interrupted by your sister coming up to you, “y/n your seats are over there next to mom’s table, please just try and be nice to her, don't ruin this night for me.” your sister spoke loudly, you just nodded and walked over to the table while Tim got you two drinks.

Sitting alone was awful, your mom had free reign to talk to you without another person around, and you had no way of defending yourself without her causing a scene. “I don’t know your game y/n, but Tim is too good for you. He deserves a nice, well rounded woman. Don’t force him into a relationship with you, because you and I know damn well you aren’t good enough for him. Don’t be selfish.” your mother finished, before going back to her table to fake kindness to the others. 

Tim had noticed your shift in mood and he knew why, as he waited for the drinks to be poured for the two of you he watched your mother come over. He saw the way you shrunk into yourself and your eyes glossed over, he never liked your mom, everytime she would come into the station he noticed how you immediately changed your demeanor. The way your smile would falter and your back would straighten, he hated it.

He brought the drinks over to your shared table, “Here's the drink, sorry it took so long, i'm starting to think people just came for the free alcohol” Tim tried to cheer you up with a shitty joke. You smiled only to appease him but he knew you better than you thought, “actually could you come with me to the bathroom? I don't want to get lost in this place, I think it's haunted." This time Tim’s joke landed and caused a giggle to come out of you, “Yeah, I'll protect you from the big scary ghosts'' you joked, getting up from your seat to accompany Tim on his travels.

“The men’s bathroom is just on the ri-” you were cut off by the sudden pressing of Tim’s lips to yours, you immediately kissed back with vigor. He pushed your back up against the wall, As much as you wanted this all you could hear were your mom’s word circle through your head “Tim.. I- we can’t” you tried catching your breath.

“Why y/n? Is this because you don’t want it or because your mom told you, you shouldn’t?” he questioned with a stoic face, eager to get his lips back on yours.

“You deserve someone better than me, Tim” 

“You are someone better, y/n” his desperate voice needed you to understand what he was telling you.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his eyes scanning your face, trying to determine your body language. “Yes” you said quietly, afraid that this was all some cruel joke. With that he continued to kiss you, pushing you into the bathroom. 

You felt his warm hands roaming your body, “do you know how long i've wanted this? How long i've wanted to feel your breathing against my skin?” Tim questioned, his lips traveling down your neck softly. You wondered if this had been some kind of sick mind trick that was being stowed upon you in your dreams, but the euphoric touches couldn't be made up. 

Your head lolled back against the door as Tim’s hot breath traveled further down your body, your dress preventing him seeing everything he wanted. 

You whined at the loss of contact before you noticed where he had gone, opening your eyes, you looking down to see Tim getting his knees in front of you. “Oh fuck me.” you breathed out, Tim laughed at your reaction “I would like to, but im not gonna fuck you for the first time in a venue bathroom.”

The feeling of his lip’s returned to your skin, kissing agonizingly slow up your legs. He became increasingly closer to where you needed him most, your soaked core was pulsing for him, his soft eyes looked up at you smiling, allowing his hand to travel up your dress.

“No panties? Dirty girl.” he taunted your lack of clothing, you on the other hand didn’t wear underwear because you didn't want a visible panty line, but you were fine with this too. More than fine actually. 

His fingers teased your wet slit, “where do you want me?” his crisp voice asks. Your breathing hitched at the feeling of his fingers still toying with your hole, “do you want me here?” he traced your throbbing clit, “or here?” he slid his finger towards your hole. 

You were finally able to pull yourself out of the feeling to talk, “I want your mouth and your fingers everywhere” you whined. He decided not to torture you any longer, finally putting his head between your thighs and having his long awaited feast. You nearly doubled over at the feeling of his tongue against your hot cunt, you had dreamed of this moment hundreds of time’s when you were alone in your bedroom. 

You gripped tightly at his gelled hair, “oh fuck, Tim” you moaned trying your best to keep your voice down, but you were failing, with how good Tim’s tongue felt against you, you wouldnt care if the whole world heard you moaning his name. 

He continued his abuse to your clit while simultaneously circling your dripping heat, “is all of this for me?” Tim pretended to not know the answer, he wanted to hear you say it. “All for you Tim, always all for you” you didn’t realize what you had just admitted but Tim hadn’t cared to mock you for it as it only inflated his ego. “You should’ve told me sooner, could have started taking care of you a lot sooner, pretty girl.” he spoke against you before returning to suck at you bundle of nerves.

When he determined you were ready enough, he sunk a digit into your tight cunt. You moaned louder than you had intended, “i- im gonna come” your shaking voice exclaimed. 

Tim only laughed, “Already, baby? Are you that deprived?” he said in a faux concern, groaning against you when you pulled on his hair again. He thrusted his fingers in and out of you, the coil in your stomach continuing to build and tighten before it finally bursted.

He slowed down his pumping, helping you ride through your orgasm. You were breathing heavily as he got up, he held you closely in his arms doing his best to keep you upright. 

“Woah, baby, relax, i've got you” he whispered in your ear and carried you over to the sink, cleaning your mess up. “I don't think I can walk.” you joked, Tim stood between your legs rubbing your thighs soothingly. “It’s okay, i'm in no rush to get back out there believe me” he laughed and tried bringing you back down from the high you were still caught in.

“You wanna ditch?” you smirked with droopy eyes, “they won't miss me”

“Yeah let’s go, need to get home so i can fuck you right”

#reader insert #the rookie #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford x you #tim bradford smut #tim bradford x fem!reader

[cryingisnecessaryfanfics]

PART TWO

Its 2am have more scar headcannons/imagines

Characters: Razor(platonic), Kaeya, Xiao, Tighnari

Sorry these are probs subpar cuz my writing style varies depending on the bpd mood lmao. Bear with the redundancy of these, there are only so many ways to write the same action.

If youre the anon who sent me an ask im replying to your ask with the inverse you talked about. Stay tuned <3 (its probably gonna take another 6 months but welp)

Not spell checked or proof read sorry lol

Razor (platonic)

Wolf boy has a lot of scars as we can all tell. I feel like he probably doesnt get the point of lotion. Probably says it smells bad, like chemicals. His scars are all really improperly healed. Probably has keloid scars (overproduction of scar tissue). The sheer size of the ones on his arms lead me to believe he never got stitches or bandages of any sort, which makes sense considering his story. Regardless, that shit looks painful lmao. (Lighthearted imagine to start us off)

“Razor!” You yell, damn that kid was way faster than you. You nearly trip over a log as you run after him.

“Razor, stop running dammit.” You continue to shout after him, hoping anything you say might just make him slow down. Lord knows you could never catch up to him.

“It's just lotion. It'll make you feel better!” Your lungs start to sting from the chase and your legs drag behind you. You stop to catch your breath and Razor slows down in front of you.

He approaches you slowly like he's afraid you’ll catch him if he gets too close. “Smells bad,” he says and you all but roll your eyes.

“Sometimes things that are good for us smell bad.” You explain. Razor waits for your breathing to even out before he gets within arms reach of you.

“Like soap?” He says and you laugh at the memory of trying to get him to wash himself with soap instead of the occasional dip in the river.

“Yes, like soap.” You sigh and he frowns. Tentatively he holds out his arm, he looks at you expectantly.

“Finally.” You say under your breath and open the bottle of lotion. You can practically feel Razor's eyes watch your hands cautiously. He doesn't move as you spread some against the skin of his arm.

“Cold.” He comments and you huff a little laugh.

“See.” You say when you finish. “Feels better right?”

Razor finally relaxes and smiles at you. “Yes.”

You're just glad he stopped running.

Kaeya

Not gonna go the obvious way and say his eyepatch because I'm different lmao. I think his knuckles are scarred. I think kaeya seems like the type to cope with his feelings through violence. I think kaeya probably hates himself. When everything gets to be too much he just starts coming out swinging. The kind of person who punches a wall without really thinking about it. But yeah I think he used his fists too much when he was younger and now he wears the fingerless gloves to protect/cover the scars. (Sorry if this is weird or seems ooc, it just makes sense to me idk why)

You first see them when he gets the new outfit in sumeru. Everyone around you seems to disregard them, or maybe just not notice. But you can sense the way he subtly hides the scars, the way he walks with a hand behind his back, one covering the other. Its easy to not notice if you arent always watching closely. Maybe the only reason you noticed was because you seemed to always be staring at him. Kaeya catches you looking more than once and in typical kaeya fashion he deflects with flirting or jokes.

Later, when youve returned home to mondstat you ask him about it and he explains after some persistence.

“Its nothing to be shameful of.” You murmur, a hand holding his, looking at the dry scar tissue.

“Its one thing to have scars from braving a battle, a complete other thing to have them from your own stupidity.” He looks away from you and the eye you can see seems far away. Like he’s recalling something from his past.

“But it wasnt stupid, it was a way to cope. How can anyone think of something like that as not brave?” He doesnt answer you, only frowns slightly, a face youve never seen him make. “Do you atleast take care of them?”

He still doesnt respond. You sigh, exasperated, and pull out your endless bag of goods to find a lotion to help with the dryness.

“What are you doing?” He asks, and you all but cringe at the thought of him not knowing you have to moisturize scars.

“I’m helping you.” You half expect him to make a witty comment but the situation proves to be too heavy and he goes back to staying silent. The whole act goes without words, you spread the lotion over his knuckles, rub it in gently. He doesnt say anything until you slide his gloves back on.

“Thank you.” He says and before you can say anything back he adds, “For your actions and your words.”

You press a kiss to one of his gloved hands. “Your welcome.” You thnk you see his cheeks tint the slightest shade of red before hes back to normal again.

“And here I thought I was the romantic.”

Xiao

I always liked the images of the karmic binds/shackles so I like to imagine his wrists are scarred from straining(?) those too much. I mean considering Xiao is an Adeptus physical wounds wouldn't leave a scar so maybe these more mental-type wounds would. Like the more karmic debt he has the worse the scars get in condition, the less debt the more they fade. Maybe the lotion helps soothe the debt more than anything. Maybe the act of something so comforting and intimate with you lessens the pain. Food for thought I guess.

Every morning, at dawn, Xiao enters a room in Wangshu Inn so his lover can put lotion on his scars. This morning is no different.

“Good morning, Xiao.” You say like always, same pretty smile on your face every day.

“Morning,” Xiao mumbles and frowns as if this isn't his favorite part of the day. He avoids your eyes as he takes off his gloves. As many times as youve seen his wrists, he still gets insecure about them. It's no secret Xiao hates being vulnerable, even around his most trusted companion.

“I saw zhongli yesterday.” You say quietly as he sits down on the bed next to you, lotion in hand. “He was with that harbinger.”

“Tch. Useless scum.” Xiao comments and you laugh.

“He seemed happy, Xiao. Try to be tolerant of his friend.” Xiao just rolls his eyes and rests his arm in your hand. You continue to talk about your day as you open the bottle of lotion and start to spread it out against his wrist.

Xiao stays quiet during this, as he always does. You think he must enjoy your voice because he's always been intent on listening to you speak even if he usually prefers silence. He absorbs your words so soaked in affection and the ache in his body seems to lessen. Pain becomes distant, horrible and intense feelings become easier to push away.

It's over before he realizes it, you've put the lotion away simply holding his hand now, savoring the feeling of his skin against yours. He leans against you and you hum in content.

Maybe this is healing for the both of you. Mutual comfort.

Tighnari

I know a lot of people like the idea of him having scars from getting struck by lightning so i'm just gonna play off of that. Lighting very rarely leaves scars but the scars it does leave are burns. The electricity also causes nerve damage so you'd have to be very gentle and careful when handling tighnari’s scars. They're probably on his neck/back so itd take a lot of trust for him to let you see him so vulnerable. He probably already has lotion he puts on himself but its very hard to reach your own back so eventually he asks you for help.

You've seen him put lotion on his scars many times, watched him wince at the pain of it. You refrain from asking him if he wants your help. Tighnari is independent, he doesn't need anyone's help. But maybe itd be less painful if he didn't have to strain his muscles to reach the scars.

He doesn't say much when he asks the first time. Just tells you to be careful. He starts to list the ingredients of the lotion he's made. How he found it, what the weather was like that day.

No matter how gentle you were he’d still pause in the middle of sentences, and with his back to you, you never saw his winces but you knew they were there.

“Okay,” you say when you've finished and you know he's relieved it's over even if it was a more pleasant experience than him doing it himself.

But he thanks you anyway, and he’ll ask you to do it again the next day.

#genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #gender neutral reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #kaeya x reader #razor gi #razor genshin impact #tighnari #tighnari x reader #genshin xiao #genshin kaeya #genshin tighnari

[ccarrot]

It’s hard to ship anyone w Dazai bc he plays his cards so close to his chest and is always wearing a mask amd deflecting, that Chuuya is really the only one it ever feels like he lowers his guard around even a little? Like, he starts acting like a dumb kid again sometimes around Chuuya, and maybe some of it is an act too, but it doesn’t feel like it? And the history helps immensely too, bc w their history there’s only so much Dazai could hide from Chuuya bc Chuuya himself was there for a lot of it. Also the trust! Dazai puts so much trust in Chuuya that Chuuya will understand him, I feel like he doesn’t really think anyone else will

it's actually very easy to ship dazai with people considering a lot of the popular ships in the fandom outside of the top few are just Dazai x somebody else.

but the reason skk is the *biggest* dazai ship, I think, is definitely because of the history between the two. Dazai's very much a character who lives in the past despite trying to move forward into the future. He relies on his connections to the Mafia even though he's trying to separate himself from that world, he spends time brooding over Oda's grave instead of hanging out with new friends, he constantly calls back onto his old mannerisms. This isn't to say Dazai's a static character though.

Anyways i think Chuuya being a person from his past would provide stability for Dazai. We know he's affectionate with Chuuya in a way his isn't with anyone else, we know that he looks back at their time together with fondness. We know that Chuuya remembers Dazai as the silly dork he secretly is instead of the detached and cruel mafioso that other's remembered. We know they've got inside jokes and play video games with each other and have nicknames for each other. There's also the fact that they fundamentally understand each other more than they even understand themselves.

At the very least, you can say that Dazai and Chuuya were best friends. There's so *much* history. So yeah skk is easy to ship, but it's also satisfying. Best friends to lovers is a satisfying dynamic but also flavor it with vague rivals to lovers seasoning and that's what skk is.

#ask

[winniethewife]

I'll be summer sun for you forever (Basil Stitt x Reader)

Warnings: Suicidal ideation

Words:786

A/N: Fluffy Basil? Definity not what anyone was expecting....

Basil is pretty sure this is a dumb idea, so far he’s called his now ex-girlfriend, and his parents, neither have responded, he plugs the phone back into the wall of his ruined apartment to make one last desperate call. His childhood Friend, the girl next door who moved across the country after high school, he’s dials the number, and it only rings once before she picks up.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Uh I don’t know if this is a goo-”

“Basil! Oh my god I haven’t heard your voice in forever! How are you?”

“Uh, well not great, there’s some… really weird stuff going on with me.”

“Weird like the time you got your head stuck in the railing or weird like the time that guy on the history channel had you actually convinced Aliens existed?” She asks with a slight laugh.  He kinda laughed back.

“Uh…weirder than both of those.”

“Well Shit Baz…Didn’t think that was possible.” He hears her set something down, It was clear he had her undivided attention now.

“Well yeah. Um…well you remember my girlfriend? I told you about her right”

“Mhm, we actually met briefly the last time I was in town. She didn’t seem to like me much.”

“Well apparently she’s been cheating on me for like a year and some change…” he was deflecting the real problem here, the lightning, the scar, the mental breakdown. Probably good to start on the easy part right?

“That bitch! I’m so sorry Basil, that’s just not right, you’re the best guy I know, you worshiped the ground she walked on. Why the fuck would she do that?”

“I don’t know, but that’s just the beginning of my bad luck…” something about his tone of voice triggered the “Mom friend” in her

“Okay let me sit down and you’re gonna tell me everything…” he could hear her footsteps on the floor in over the phone and it’s all he can do to not start crying again.

“You’re not going to believe me when I tell you.” He says

“I don’t care, you’re going to tell me anyway.” She was always good at getting him to do what she wanted. From playing the board game she wanted to as kids to asking out the girl he liked to prom, she had a way of convincing him that he just couldn’t resist. So he gave up fighting her years ago. So he breaks down and tells her… Everything.

“All this time I didn't know you were breakin' down…” She whispers into the phone reviver. “I-I don’t know, I’m thinking of just…Ending it all. It’s really bad…I look like a monster, and I feel like I’m going more insane every day…”

“Basil…I'd fall to pieces on the floor if you weren't around…” He can hear the tears in her voice. “I’m coming to see you, I’ll help you get it all figured out.”

“No. Please don’t I don’t want to be seen like this, I just want it to be over okay?”

“I don’t care how bad it is or what you look like Basil. I’m getting on the next plane to New York. I refuse to lose my best friend.” That tone of voice the one he knows he can’t argue.

“Okay…” He’s kinda glad she’s coming. But doesn’t know how to face it.

~

By the next day she’s standing in his apartment helping him clean stuff up. She had arrived on the red eye, early in the morning. She hadn’t shied away from the Scarring on his face or the how his eye had gone white. She didn’t care. She had just held him in her lap as he had cried. She had run her fingers through his hair and hummed sweet melodies.

“Why are you helping me?” He asked

“You’re my best friend Baz.”

“I haven’t been a good friend, I haven’t called in a year why on earth…”

“It doesn’t matter Basil, You’re still my friend. And I love you even at your darkest.” She tried to smile at him but he can’t look at her

“I don’t believe that.” He grumbles. She puts aside the broom she was using and carefully took his face in her hands looking him directly in the face, before softly kissing him, he’s shocked but he kisses her back, his hands, shaking, end up on her waist. Every move she makes done with determination but with a gentle quality that Basil hadn’t felt from anyone in a very long time. As they break the kiss more tears falling from his face. She wipes the tears away and softly tells him the one thing he needed to hear more than anything.

“Believe in one thing, I won't go away”'

__

TS Series Masterlist

Basil Series masterlist

Next chapter

#basil stitt x reader #basil #basil stitt #lightningface fanfiction #lightningface #fluff #oscar isaac fic #taylor swift #Red #forever winter #Spotify

[quietlyimplode]

Whumptober Masterlist 2023

Masterlist of fic

(Warnings at the start of every chapter, please be kind to yourself. Gif not mine; I do not possess that kind of power. This will be updated with links as we go and when placed on ao3 will be updated with the link. A lot of these can be read as one shots (I’ll try and mark the ones that can be read as such with a *) but together make a whole story; the story of how Clint and Natasha got married.)

the language of flowers and silent things.

2011 - Kashmir (how many fingers am I holding up) *

1984 - Russia (I’ll call out your name but you won’t call back) *

1984 - Iowa (make it stop) *

2012 - New York (shock)

2012 - New York (it’s broken)

1999 - Iowa (made to watch)*

2013 - New York / Wichita Falls (radio silence)

2013 - New York (it’s all for nothing)

1994 - Ohio (Polaroid) *

2014 - Budapest (you said you’d never leave)

2014 - Singapore (Captivity)

2014 - Singapore / Malaysia (Red) <now with amazing art by @oceanspirit9 >

2009 - New York (I don’t feel so good) *

2010 - Okinawa (just hold on)*

2010 - Okinawa (I’m fine) *

2014 - Rome (don’t go where I can’t follow)

2007 - Russia/France (leave me alone)*

2014 - New York (I tend to deflect when…)

2011 - Iowa (floral bouquet)*

2013 - New York (found family)*

2014 - New York (vows)

2012 - New York (watch out)*

2014 - New York (Shadows)

2014 - New York (I thought they were with you)

2014 - New York (buried alive)

2014 - New York (you look awful)

2014 - New York (scars)

2014 - Berlin (aftermath of failure)

2014 - New York (what happened to me)

2014 - New York (borrowed clothing)

2014 - New York (take it easy)

Elevation - Charles Baudelaire

Above the lakes, above the vales,

The mountains and the woods, the clouds, the seas,

Beyond the sun, beyond the ether,

Beyond the confines of the starry spheres,

My soul, you move with ease,

And like a strong swimmer in rapture in the wave

You wing your way blithely through boundless space

With virile joy unspeakable.

Fly far, far away from this baneful miasma

And purify yourself in the celestial air,

Drink the ethereal fire of those limpid regions

As you would the purest of heavenly nectars.

Beyond the vast sorrows and all the vexations

That weigh upon our lives and obscure our vision,

Happy is he who can with his vigorous wing

Soar up towards those fields luminous and serene.

He whose thoughts, like skylarks,

Toward the morning sky take flight

- Who hovers over life and understands with ease

The language of flowers and silent things

Translated by - William Aggeler

#whumptober Masterlist #clintasha #natasha romanoff #black widow #clint barton #my fic #hawkeye #natasha romanoff fic #clintasha fanfiction #clintasha fanfic #clint barton fic #yelena belova #avengers fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #whump fic #clint barton x natasha romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x Clint barton #the language of flowers and silent things

[lesbianhotch]

kinktober day 6- cockwarming

notes: .nsfw, fem reader + sugar daddy hotch, a continued work of my SDH series but this can be read as a one off, unprotected sex, smidge of daddy kink, alcohol

Ever since your almost kiss at the boutique, you’d been practically throwing yourself at Aaron, but to no avail.

He was still trying to be a gentleman, still holding himself back from something that he so clearly wanted as well. You couldn’t quite understand why. You knew about his past, about how it had never been easy for him when it came to friendships, romantic relationships. The worry that whatever the two of you had would slip through his fingers was always present in the back of his mind. 

The phone sex was still a regular occurance, and the lingerie he had bought for you was hanging on your closet door, waiting for the right moment to be worn. 

You brought up his hesitation over the phone one night, curled up on your side with your blanket tucked up to your chin as your heart pounded in your chest.

“My feelings are real, Aaron. Being physical or not won’t change that. I just…I need to know why.” 

“Is ‘I’m old and I’m scared’ a good enough reason?” There’s a slight chuckle in his voice, but you can tell he’s deflecting. 

“Aaron-”

“Sorry. I want to take the step, believe me. It’s nothing about you at all. I just haven’t always been good with change.” 

You hum in understanding. “And us becoming physical, this being more than-” You pause, unsure of how to describe your previous arrangement. “More than what we started as, is a big change, isn’t it?”

“Exactly.”

So it goes on like that for the next few weeks. Dinners and weekend outings together with Aaron holding your hand, or wrapping his arm around your waist, but nothing more. You’re still happy, incredibly so, but your heart aches for just a little bit more.

You’ve invited him back to your place for a drink, insisting it after the wonderful dinner you two had. 

“And I’ve got the good stuff, so there won’t be any complaints that it’s not to your liking,” you tease as you unlock the door to your apartment.

“Have I turned you into a wine snob? One too many tastings downtown?”

You lead him inside, toeing your shoes off next to the door. “Maybe. Plus I got that scotch you like.” Expensive and rich and smoky, a real treat that Aaron paid top dollar for during a particularly cold night. It coated your throat and made you feel warm from head to toe, so buying a bottle had been a no brainer. “Now go sit, I’ll get the drinks.”

It’s always nice seeing Aaron in your space, albeit a little strange. His large form leaning back into your plush second hand sofa, his navy colored button down and black slacks contrasting against the cream colors of the cushions. 

You come over with a glass of wine for yourself and a pour of scotch for Aaron, handing him the glass and sinking into the couch beside him. You pull your feet up, tucking them underneath your legs and holding out your glass for a toast. Aaron gently clinks his glass against yours before taking a sip, closing his eyes and letting out a pleased hum.

“Maybe the drink snobbery is a good thing. Now I’ll always have a place to drink my favorite scotch.” You laugh, taking a sip of your own wine, enjoying the rich feel of it on your tongue.

The two of you pass the time talking, easy conversation that revolves around everything and nothing. You get up for a second pour, moving closer to Aaron when you come back to the couch.

Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it's the proximity, but you feel so warm and cozy next to Aaron, his arm slung on the back of the couch so his fingers can graze your shoulder from time to time. The contact lights you up, and you shuffle closer so your knees are touching his, his legs spread wide on the couch. 

You’re in the middle of a passionate rant about the new thriller you just finished and your dissatisfaction with the book's ending, when Aaron plucks your empty wine glass out of your hand and sets it on the coffee table that’s in front of you. You stop yourself mid sentence, confusion written across your face.

“What was that for?”

Aaron takes a deep breath, his arm on the back of the couch deliberately coming down to your shoulder and stroking the skin, his eyes fixated on where you two are touching at the knee.

“Do you know how hard it is? To sit next to you like this and just act normal?” His fingers trace circles on your bare shoulder, your shirtsleeve pushed up by his hand. “To feel so conflicted, so worried I’m going to mess this up, but at the same time, so ready?”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep your heartbeat under control. 

“If you’re ready, then I’m ready. You know that.”

Aaron’s eyes meet yours, and his hand stills. For a moment you’re worried he’s going to retreat, going to back away from the opening you’ve given him. 

“Can I touch you?”

A relief washes over you, and you try not to melt over him at his words. “Yes please.” 

He’s slow at first, almost agonizingly so. Gentle hands up and down your arms, over your chest and waist, squeezing at your thighs. He’s exploring, taking his time, doing so little that you probably shouldn't’ be as worked up as you are. 

Aaron tugs at your thighs, and you realize that he wants you on his lap, so you follow his direction wordlessly, your knees now on either side of his thighs. His hands settle on your waist, large and comforting. You’re so close like this, and you can feel his broad thighs under yours, the hard muscle contrasting with the softness of his belly that’s pressing into you.

You do your best to remain still, letting Aaron do what he needs to do to get comfortable. You don’t want to spook him and send him running. He runs his hand down your arm, eventually pulling it up to his face, placing a kiss on your palm. He guides your hand down to his slacks, and it takes your breath away when you feel the bulge in his pants. All that, just from touching you. 

It makes your head spin. 

“Do you feel that? Feel what you do to me, do to daddy?” 

You squeeze him gently, and Aaron grunts, and if that isn’t a sound you need to hear again and again and again. You’ve heard him make noise like this over the phone, but nothing compares to the way it sounds in person.

You copy what he did to you, dragging his hand down to go under your skirt and towards your underwear. He gasps when he feels you, warm and wet, and you let his hand settle there, allow him to press his palm against you.

“You make me feel the same.”

Aaron leans forward, resting his head in the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. He isn’t exactly kissing you, but his lips graze your skin as he speaks.

“I want to- I need you. Want to feel you around me.” Your head lolls to the side as he continues nuzzling into you, his nose pressing into your skin. “Sit on my cock? Just be with me for a little while?”

His admission is so sincere, spoken so sweetly in a total juxtaposition to what he’s asking you to do. Of course you want to do that; have been fantasizing about something like this for months, and even as it’s happening you have to wonder if this is a fabulous dream you’re going to wake up from any second. 

You nod, letting out a quiet ‘yes’, and Aaron removes his hand from you to unbuckle his belt and unzip his slacks. You rise up slightly on your knees to allow him room to move his pants towards his thighs, and you sit back down once he’s ready. Just the bare skin of his thighs against yours makes you needy.

He moves his underwear down, and you can finally really get a look at him. It’s very him, very Aaron. Big like the rest of him, but not so much that you don’t think you can handle it. Your mouth waters, but that’s something for another day.

You don’t feel like getting up and off the couch, so you simply choose to push your panties to the side as you rise up over him, putting a hand on his shoulder to get some leverage. “Slow,” is all you say as you take him in your other hand and run him through your wetness. You usually prefer a little bit of prep before something like this, but you’re too impatient for that right now. 

Aaron’s hands settle on your waist; not guiding you, but following your movements, supporting your body as you move up and down slowly. It takes you a while before you feel comfortable enough to sink down onto him fully, but when you do it leaves you breathless, the feeling of Aaron inside you so different from your toys, your hands.

You don’t realize how harsh your breathing is until Aaron puts a gentle hand on your back, pulling you close. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” You clench around him, can’t help doing so, and your urge to move is only sated by Aaron’s soothing words, his gentle hands.

“Just sit, just like this. My good girl, you feel so good.” 

Your hands flounder as they try to figure out where to go, what to touch. They move from Aaron’s stomach, to his chest, to his hair. He’s back to being burrowed into your neck again, peppering kisses along your collarbone. 

“We’re going to sit like this, until I think you’re ready. Then I’ll touch you.” He gets right next to your ear, and for a moment you think you might be able to come just from his voice alone. “I’m not going to fuck you. Tonight’s not the night. But I’ll touch you, and you’ll come on my cock, alright?”

Now how could you ever say no to a thing like that?

taglist: @spacecowboyhotch @wheelsupkels @ssamorganhotchner @hotchs-bitch @ssahotchswife @jxvipike

#for the sdh truthers <333 #i didnt plan to have this be a part of the series but. i was struck with a vision for it #.nsfw #aaron hotchner x reader #i hope yall like it this one was fun to write

[supersaiyanjedi14]

SABEZRA WEEK: Day 2 (Oct 24): Memories

*Sabine remembers a uniquely bizarre yet entertaining day aboard the Ghost with Ezra. * 

She concluded that he was either doing a fantastic impression of a Kowakian monkey-lizard or had drunk too much caf before bed. Or both. Either way, the pose she found Ezra in in the lounge was enough to overcome her self-control and cause her to burst out laughing. The pile he fell into was an added bonus. 

“Chopper! How many times-?!” His retort was cut short when he realized it was not the troublemaking droid mocking him. “Wait, Sabine?” 

“The one and only.” she giggled. “What are you even doing?” 

Ezra brushed off his pants (and his embarrassment) and got to his feet. “It's a Jedi exercise. Kanan taught it to me. It’s supposed to help me hone my senses, feel the Force better.” 

“By jumping around like a baby nuna?” 

“Wha- it’s not- no...” Ezra stammered for a moment before shooting her a glare. Sabine chuckled again and put her hands up. 

“Easy, Loth-rat. I’m just teasing you.” 

Ezra deflated a bit. “Sorry, it’s just that Chopper gets in the way of this all the time. Believe it or not, I do try to take this stuff seriously.” 

Sabine’s smirk turned into a more genuine smile. As much of a pain as he could be at times, she always admired how determined he was to do well in his Jedi training. Sure, she, Zeb and Chopper occasionally poked fun at him and messed around with Kanan’s lessons at times, but it was always in good fun. The time she had Chopper lock down his feet quickly came to mind. 

Though that also reminded her why she and the others had been laying off on their teasing. With those two new Inquisitors on their tail, to say nothing of the Sith Lord they ran into on Lothal, Ezra was more determined than ever to continue his training and to be ready to fight. Having a burning red lightsaber blade to her throat was enough to make her appreciate how dangerous and cruel they could be. And here Ezra was, even if it wasn’t immediately on his mind, preparing to eventually fight them. There was a burden on him, one she knew she could never really help alleviate. Unless... 

“Think I could do them with you?” 

Ezra was so surprised by the question he nearly fell over again. “Huh?” 

“Your exercise. Maybe I can help you with them?” 

She wasn’t sure what made her jump at the idea. From what little she had seen, they seemed to be pretty standard physical calisthenics. And having an exercise buddy was always helpful. But the fact that they were Jedi exercises...that should have clued her in that this was a dumb thing to suggest. 

She felt the need to explain herself. “I’m no Jedi, but it looked like you were doing some kind of physical exercise routine. Mandalorians use the same things to help prepare ourselves for combat training. Maybe if you tell me some of the details, I can help you with the transitions.” She may have been rambling with the explanation for a bit, so she resigned herself to his cocky dismissal. 

“Okay, sure.” 

Now it was Sabine’s turn to be surprised. “Really?” 

“Hey, you help out with my training already. What’s one more thing?” He was right of course. Even if it was just as a supply of stun blasts for him to deflect, she had been part of his training process for a while now. 

Sabine scratched her head. “I just thought you wouldn’t been a little more,” she thought for a moment, “I don’t know, picky about your special Jedi techniques?” 

Ezra laughed a bit. “It’s no big deal. Kanan told me they’re pretty low-level stuff anyway. Nothing too advanced.” 

“You calling me a youngling?” 

“You said it, not me.” he quipped. 

“Do you want my help or not?” 

“Alright,” he chuckled, “over here.” 

Sabine made her way over to the center of the floor with Ezra, facing each other in a slight crouch. “Alright,” Ezra explained, “Kanan called these ‘Jedi Flow’. The idea is to let yourself be accustomed to the Force around you, moving around the Force rather than just bumping against it. The exercises are supposed to take the concept and apply it to physical actions. Breathing, moving, and alignment, moving from one point to the next. Make sense?” 

Surprisingly, it did. Not only that, but Sabine also seemed to pick up on what Ezra’s problem was earlier. “Try this,” she said. She walked over next to him and motioned him to take another stance. “Try to make your motions work when you breathe out, not in. Air’s expanding your body already, let it do the work for you.” 

Ezra nodded and tried again. This time, the motion was a lot smoother than it had been when she had walked in. “Thanks,” he smiled. 

Sabine returned the grin. “No problem. Shall we?” 

XX 

"We kept at it for a few hours afterwards. It’s hard to explain, but think of it as turning 2D to 3D. Moving around like that felt a lot more natural and, well, flowing than what he had been doing before. Of course, Zeb walked in on us and decided we were still looking ridiculous. Talk about embarrassing. But we got even. After the TIE fighter, I want to say the hair dye in his shampoo was one of my finest works. Ezra kept calling him the Rainbow Lasat for weeks after that!” 

Sabine laughed at the memory before looking across the table. She suddenly remembered she had a guest and felt her face heat up a bit. “Sorry,” she apologized, “you probably want me to get back to the Jedi stuff.” 

“No, no it’s fine, really.” The man across the table assured her, giving her a reassuring smile. “Honestly, the tangents are kind of refreshing.” 

Sabine gave him a sarcastic smirk. “Really? Alert the Holonet, Luke Skywalker likes to hear about pranking Lasats!” 

Giving a laugh of his own, the black-clad Jedi Knight took a sip from his mug. “I mean it. It’s good to hear about what Ezra was like himself. These conversations would be pretty boring if you were telling me about some Jedi droid.” 

“I do know about one, if that would help.” 

Once the laughter died down, Luke set his glass down. “All I’m saying is that it’s good that the Jedi are being remembered as the people they were. It’s important to rebuild what the Order practiced and preached, sure. But it’s just as important to remember their memories. Our legacy is more than our deeds. It’s also our character and the people we leave behind.” 

Sabine’s smile dripped a little as she took in Luke’s more sentimental words. Seeing this, he turned to conversation back to the present. “Besides, I can see that talking about him makes you feel better.” 

Sabine sighed. “It just hurts sometimes. You miss someone for so long that it feels better to just not bring it up.” 

“I get that.” said Luke. “Really, I do. But I also know how important it is to keep those memories alive. I’ve lost plenty of people, but I still hold them close.” He looked up at his host. “I know how much he means to you. Even if Hera didn’t tell me, I could tell.” 

Sabine fingered her mug before looking up, ignoring how her cheeks warmed up. “I’m going to find him.” 

Luke smiled warmly. “Then it sounds like we’ve all got something to look forward to.” 

The conversation broke off when Luke’s comlink beeped. Groaning slightly, Luke downed the rest of his drink before fishing out the device. “That’s probably Han telling me they’re done.” 

“Better get going then.” Sabine said as she collected the mugs. “And tell Leia I said hi.” 

“Will do.” Luke rose from the table and collected his cloak. 

“Hey, Luke.” Sabine called out. Luke turned around just as the door opened up. Sabine gave one more smile. “Thanks for coming to talk. Really, I mean it.” 

Coming to talk about Ezra was the unspoken part of it. He was right, she had to admit. Reminiscing about their time together, all the old memories. Talking about them- about him- really did make her feel better. 

“Any time, Sabine.” said Luke. “May the Force be with you.” 

(AN: Ezra and Sabine's exercises are from actual Star Wars lore. Kit Fisto teaches his ARC Troopers these same exercises in the novel the Cestus Deception @jedi-order-apologist has scans of the scene here)

#star wars #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #sabine wren #sabezra #sabezraweek2023 #fanfic

[variousqueerthings]

I have watched the Christmas Special I am allowed back on the tumbls.

thoughts! nd a little feelings!

we're really starting in on the ideas of the season - magic and science as one, belief as a power, things somewhat to the left of conventional reality, tricksters (and eventually gods), and those are simply some of my favourite things!

on that note, the song that the doctor and ruby sing very similar to how donna beat that one part of the toymaker's maze

this may be the most of a musical episode we get, but I think we should still have a full one -- confirmed both ncuti and millie can sing so...

themes of family as not a biological decree, but as choice and luck and what you decide to call family

(how big is the ruby-is-susan's-child fan theory?)

I also note that introducing a companion with a mystery in this is different than back in m*ffat-era, when it was from the doctor's perspective of wanting to solve the companion, rather than be with the companion and have the companion involved in the mystery (companion as plot point rather than as character), whereas this time around it's ruby's mystery, and in fact the doctor stepped back from figuring it out which is... interesting

some things as foreshadowing: ruby's birth-mother as mystery, themes of family as mentioned - created, found, lost perhaps? - that tie ruby's past with the doctor as the timeless child possibly eventually in a very tangible way (susaaan), how easily one can change reality (mavity just came back, which feels like a small example of how easy it is, alongside the toymaker in the last episode, and the goblins going back in time and stealing ruby in this one), how different beings operate under different laws than ours...

ncuti is giving perfect doctor, as we knew, but I think it deserves to be said! also a tried and true doctor deflection moment of "I've got no one" and then Moving On -- because this episode (and I hazard a guess, season) is so family-focused, I assume there'll be a return to all of that. definitely giving benevolent trickster in a universe of malevolent trickster feel (right before he said that maybe he's the bad luck, I was saying that he's the good luck bringer, which was a fun coincidence...)

I like ruby. I think there's a lot of space to gauge still, as this episode did a lot to give us her background (and a bit of her personality, which is obviously very companion-type), but I'm not quite sure how much millie gibson sticks out to me on her own, especially opposite someone as Big as ncuti gatwa. I wasn't initially a fan of casting another young actor (and then I thought, oh she might be playing someone younger, like yasmin finney did, invoking characters like zoe or ace, but then they haven't done that either), so I'm still a bit on the fence in terms of how she's going to set herself apart from a majority of attractive young white women that play companions, apart from the backstory itself, because so far I'd say... kind of a shrug, yeah she's fine, but she's not super memorable. that being said this is early days -- her background is well-built, she's very much Of A New Generation, which I'm guessing is why they went with someone around this age and they've made sure to represent in various scenes, I like that she's Mancunian, I like the scenes between her and her family. so yeah, I like her, I think currently that she's sweet. also millie gibson has quite a bit of background considering how young she is, and specifically won awards for her work on coronation street, which, I always feel like rtd works well with bringing out the best kind of emotions from actors who've been on soaps, makes me hope for Bigger, which I think DW (and rtd) is good at getting from people

spire through the goblin king's stomach. brutal

on the flipside, the christmas-star death seemed a bit intense, so am glad the doctor saved davina mccall

oh yeah, and the neighbour woman... there was that too. mysteries

fun episode. I'm never expecting brilliance from a christmas special, just fun! and I had very good fun! and also mysteries...

#im watching nu!who #im watching gatwa who #the church on ruby road

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: Eddie’s afraid to tell Buck he’s in love with him

Eddie’s afraid to follow his heart because he’s scared Buck will reject him (he won’t) because he’s trying to prevent his heart from being broken.  That’s why he’s always used Christopher as a shield because he didn’t want to admit his heart was hurting.  

2x17 “Careful What You Wish For” Eddie said: “When you came back into our lives, I was so glad and afraid...”  He was afraid to let Shannon back into his and Christopher’s lives after she left them with just a note in El Paso, TX.  She broke his heart when she suggested they get a divorce.

3x8 “Malfunction” Eddie said: “You know, I was so afraid she was going to do it again.  She had already left once, broke his heart.”  His conversation with Bobby was emotional when he finally admitted Shannon broke Chris’ (really his heart) heart when he let her back into their lives but she wanted to leave again before she died.

4x13 “Suspicion” Carla said, “Just be sure that you’re following your heart, and not Christopher’s ok?”  Eddie was trying to stick it out for Chris’ sake but Carla could tell he wasn’t happy especially after he said being with Ana was easy.

4x14 “Survivors” Eddie waited too long to follow Carla’s advice and he almost lost the love of his life, Buck, when he got shot by a sniper while standing in the middle of the street.  He reached for Buck and Buck reached right back and pulled him to safety.  Eddie asked Buck, “Are you hurt?” because he was afraid Buck had been shot too.  They had a silent conversation while they were in the back of the firetruck and Buck was in a catatonic state until he received Bobby’s text that Eddie was out of surgery.

5x11 “Outside Looking In” Eddie said: “You need to move on Buck, I have” but he was LYING because he hadn’t moved on.  When he saw Buck laughing at the bar, Eddie left, went home and continued to isolate himself from everyone.

5x13 “Fear-O-Phobia” Frank asked Eddie: “What are you afraid of?” and Eddie deflected and he wouldn’t answer Frank’s question.  Instead he started talking about going to the dentist.

Eddie listened to Pauline over the radio while she explained to Hen that she couldn’t feel anything including fear.

Eddie said: “I’m afraid!” and Buck asked him, “What are you afraid of?” which was the same question Frank asked him earlier but he responded to Buck and said, “That I’m never going to feel normal again”.  Reminder Eddie had been missing Buck the same way he missed him during the lawsuit.

6x1 “Let the Games Begin” Eddie was happy and he kept giving Buck heart eyes throughout dinner.  Him and Buck were both finally single at the same time and Eddie looked like he was ready to tell Buck he had been waiting for him.  Their couch conversation should have alerted Buck to the fact that he already has a couch and it’s at Eddie’s house waiting for him.

6x9 “Red Flag” Eddie’s facial expression showed he wasn’t thrilled with Buck’s announcement about being ‘officially responsible for the creation of new life’.  He looked frustrated like he was going to lose Buck again.

Eddie’s been to therapy, he’s done the work, he’s happy but he could be happier if he would go after who his heart wants.  There have been so many references to Eddie’s heart over the years and it seems like right when he and Buck were both finally single again, something else (*cough* the sperm donor foolery *cough*) delayed their happiness again!  Shannon broke his heart and Eddie doesn’t want it broken again so he’s being careful but Buck loves him.  One of them will have to make the first move but who will it be?

In 6B, will Eddie finally admit Buck is who his heart wants?  Only the showrunner(s), writers and producers know the answer to that question.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 on fox #911 fox #911onfox #911 meta #911 s6 #911 season 6 #911 season 6 speculation #911 #Anti Connor and Kameron #anti eddieana #anti ana flores #anti shannon diaz #anti eddieshannon

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

On the contrary to one of the recent asks. Could we get Rose gorging down some of Galar’s hunks? I’d imagine they’d gurgle down into some good belches and leave him needing a new suit

Hell yeah! I'll throw a few guys his way. Honestly don't remember what the recent ask in question is for this one.

It was time for some change. Chairman R.ose needed to do some revamping for the gym challenge and get rid of a few...problem characters. Luckily, he knew exactly how he wanted to handle that! His stomach growls out in agreement and he gives it a gentle rub to settle it down. They should start arriving soon.

The first one to come by is M.ilo, the big hunk of a man smiling politely as he walks into R.ose's office. The farmer clearly had no idea what he was in for. The chairman did his best to seem cordial and friendly, waiting for that perfect moment to strike. It came when he got M.ilo to reach over his desk for a handshake. R.ose takes his hand, then pulls hard, dragging the gym l.eader over his desk as he shovels that hand right into his jaws.

M.ilo screamed and tried to pull away, naturally, but R.ose's gullet proved stronger as that first thick gulp sucked M.ilo in up to his elbow. The farmer tried to get up again and pull away from the desk, but R.ose kept gulping, getting up to the shoulder and forcing M.ilo's head into his drooling jaws. The meal was easy from there as he gulps and slurps the hunk of beef down with greed. His already round stomach swells out, buttons popping off his suit as it quickly fails to hold onto his expanding gut. M.ilo makes quite a mess, knocking things off his desk and kicking a chair over, but those kicking legs are soon slurped up and he's forced down fully into R.ose's stomach.

R.ose leans back in his chair with a content sigh, his stuffed gut resting nicely in his lap while M.ilo thrashes around inside, begging to be let out. The chairman basks in the feeling of being so full of such lively prey for a good few minutes, but eventually, he has to do something about all of this. His appointments are all half an hour apart and he has some cleaning to do before the next man arrives. Some rubbing and kneading make M.ilo scream even louder, and it works out a few thick belches from R.ose. Eventually, all that thrashing settles down, and M.ilo goes silent with a few stray gurgles all to show for it. R.ose has an easier time moving around and cleaning up after that, though the size of his gut does get in the way a bit. By the time he's settled down again, M.ilo has gotten much softer and is well on his way to padding out the chairman's figure. Just in time for the next appointment.

K.abu is clearly more suspicious as he walks in. Seeing the chairman with an unusually engorged stomach, completely exposed given the lack of most buttons of his suit, seems to be setting off alarm bells for the fire-type gym l.eader. But he doesn't leave, either, instead sitting down. R.ose doesn't wait as long this time, meandering to the other side of his desk and carefully undoing his tight belt buckle. K.abu doesn't notice until the chairman's ass is coming down over his head, and by then, it's too late. With some moans and wet squelched, he's disappearing right up R.ose's bowels. The chairman slides down his torso with some wiggling and relaxes as he finds himself sitting comfortably. K.abu's legs kick around between his own, but a few flexes of his ass slurp those up and pack him away. He'll be left to squirm around in the chairman's bowels for a little while, but he'd be long dead by the time P.iers came by.

At this point, R.ose's gut is too large to really ignore, same for the fact that his suit is looking rather disheveled, now with his belt unable to close over his waist. R.ose tries to deflect and act like nothing is amiss, but his guts bubble wetly and he belches up M.ilo's hat. The facade drops rather fast and the rock star gets pinned to the wall by that stomach after trying to leave. P.iers got to scream for help just once before his head is engulfed and he's being greedily slurped down. Being so skinny, he makes for an easy meal, and he didn't survive too long in the caustic mixture of his fellow gym leaders. A bassy belch not five minutes later and he goes slack in the chairman's guts.

At that point, it's basically impossible to try and hide what he's done. When Gordie comes by, he immediately tries to leave, but R.ose pulls him back and begins to scarf him down just like the rest. He's another big meal like M.ilo, and R.ose knows he's going to be a real calorie bomb just like the farmer, but at this point he doesn't care at all. He just wants the man down the hatch and churning away. It takes some effort to hoist him off the ground, but once he does, R.ose is able to throw his head back and send his latest course down the hatch. His gut bounces and sloshes as G.ordie is dropped in and a nasty belch shakes the door in its frame as a pair of sunglasses fly out of the chairman's jaws.

This meal proved harder to melt, though, and R.ose was still trying to knead G.ordie into place when R.aihan walks in. Unlike the others who tried to run, the dragon-type gym l.eader opts to trying to fight R.ose. But with so much new weight to simply throw around, it doesn't take R.ose very long to knock R.aihan onto his back and smother him under his fattening ass. A bit of wiggling and a pop later, and R.aihan is left to thrash around like a madman as he's pulled into R.ose's ass. The chairman moans shamelessly, not caring anymore how he looks as he indulges in his greed. By the time he's standing up again, he's got a pair of kicking shins hanging from behind his cheeks. They get slurped up with ease while he discards his suit--at this point, he has no need for it. His gut is hanging heavily before him, bubbling up a storm with all that meat packed inside. G.rodie finally quit moving after getting thrown around and there's no chance R.aihan will last long in the chairman's grueling bowels. So there was only one man left to wait on.

L.eon barely makes it through the door before he's being manhandled. He's pulled in by the collar of his shirt and slammed into the wall, R.ose's gut pressing in on him to keep him down. He gets greeted with a wet belch in the face--he's the last meal on the list and R.ose can't wait any longer for it. He licks his lips, drooling as he watches realization hit L.eon. Then he engulfs the champion's head into his jaws and begins to guzzle him down like the rest. L.eon puts up a fight but it means little as the chairman waddles back to his seat, slurping up L.eon with ease. By the time he sits down, he's slurping up the champion's kicking legs, sending the last of him down the hatch and into his boiling tankard of a gut.

R.ose lets out a noxious belch, a dazed smile on his face as he relishes in his own absurd gluttony. L.eon squirms around for a bit but five gym l.eader's worth of gut sludge snuffs him out in no time. R.os drapes the champion's cape over his gut like a blanket, which he had managed to unclip while guzzling the champ down. No more meetings for today--he has a lot of processing to do, and that calls for a power nap.

The next day, he had to give a speech to the entire region about how sad it is that so many of the gym l.eaders and even their undefeated champion went missing. But of course, as the chairman, he was well on his way to finding suitable replacements in the meantime. No one even thought to question why R.ose seems to have grown so much heavier, his new suit still barely containing his gut on such short notice. No one would know that the missing gym leaders were still so close. And R.ose can't help but wonder if he can get away with this a second time.

#v.ore #male vore #mlm vore #m/m vore #gay vore #vore story #oral vore #digestion #fatal vore #mass vore #weight gain #pokemonvore #chairmanrosevore #leonvore #raihanvore #milovore #kabuvore #gordievore

[edwarddominicemilio]

"HESITATION IS DEFEAT": PERSEVERANCE, DISCIPLINE, AND THE ONE-ARMED WOLF

After almost three years since my initial playthrough of Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice, I finally beat Sword Saint Isshin. It took me that long because I had been uninstalling and re-installing the game many times, often out of frustration.

I first played Sekiro on the second half of 2021. Back then, I was still in law school so I just wanted to have fun with what I thought was a button-masher. Oh, how wrong I was.

I barely got past the first miniboss, General Naomori Kawarada. When I beat him, I jumped out of excitement and exhilaration.

However, I did not know how or why I beat him. I was mashing deflect like a madman, causing my character to flail his sword every which way. It was totally uncharacteristic of the graceful shinobi Wolf was supposed to be.

Unsurprisingly, my inability to learn why I succeeded (or failed) hindered me. I could not get past the Chained Ogre. I was angry. "This is not why I play video games," I told myself, "it's just stressing me out."

I quit playing Sekiro the first time.

I tried Sekiro again after I graduated from law school. This was around early 2023. I just took the Bar Exams and I had been waiting for the results. The discipline I developed throughout the Bar Review season taught me to persevere. I treated the game like a personal challenge.

I also learned how to strategize and to "play the game the way it is meant to be played". This meant abiding by that humorous description of Sekiro: "Sekiro is not an action game, it is a rhythm game with swords." How witty!

So, I practiced timing my deflects properly. I treated each fight like a dance. The opponents swings and I deflect. Then, I listen to that glorious CLANG! that everyone who plays this game knows and loves. Once I hear it, I swing my own sword. CLING! CLANG! CLING! CLANG! Deathblow!

Heavenly.

But there is a final roadblock just before the end. Sword Saint Isshin Ashina, back from the dead upon necromancy of his grandson Genichiro Ashina, killed me more times than I can count.

In fact, I became so disheartened. Was I not playing the game correctly? That can't be. In fact, I can see my improvement! Genichiro was impossible to beat in the beginning, he was a challenge in the middle, and a pushover by the end. I was improving, was I not? Why don't deflects work?!

I quit playing Sekiro for the second time.

After a year, I started playing Sekiro again on March 2024. It was a new save file. Unsurprisingly, everything before Sword Saint Isshin was a breeze. It was objective proof that I was improving.

But when I reached him, I was still at a loss. What was I doing wrong?

Then, I took to heart what he said every time he killed me, his ubiquitous boss dialogue: "Hesitation is defeat". This is not him mocking me, this is him genuinely trying to give me advice. "Remember Sekiro," he says, "hesitate and you lose."

So, I changed my ways. I stopped being a passive partner in this magnificent sword dance. I became aggressive, I chased him, I did not allow him any chance to breathe. He swings, I deflect. He prepares a big wind-up attack, I dodge. He thrusts, I Mikiri. But after each move, I swing back.

I made it a point to be the attacker and to stay as the attacker. Hell, when he hit me, I didn't heal. I just told myself, "Fuck it. He's not gonna hit me again. I can deflect the next ones. Retaining this offensive momentum is worth the risk."

Then, everything clicked.

See, the best thing about Sekiro is how much faith it has in the gamer's indomitable will. You had to beat the game straight up. No, you cannot summon other players or spirits to fight for you. No, you cannot find an exploitable grinding spot to level your character up. No, there is no easy cheese. You just had to "git gud".

And "git gud" I did.

A year ago, landing a hit against Phase 1 Isshin was a miracle. Some days ago, I got Phase 1 Isshin to almost broken posture. Yesterday, I killed Phase 1 Isshin the first time. This morning, I beat Phase 1 Isshin effortlessly. This afternoon, I reached Phase 3 for the first time after spending an entire day learning how to beat his dreaded Phase 2.

In a sense, the strategy to beat his Phase 3 is almost metaphorical. Jumping to meet the lightning and throwing it back at him is symbolic of how you should meet his aggression head-on.

When I beat him, I did not jump for joy in the same way I did when I beat General Naomori Kawarada. Instead, I just whispered, "Fuck. I did it," to myself.

I trusted the process and applied the learnings. Beating him was inevitable. I was not surprised when I did.

That's the way life works too, isn't it? One has to stand up straight and meet life head on. One has to take action.

Thank you, Kensei, for teaching me not to hesitate.

#gaming #sekiro

[savagecowboy]

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒

She had been feeling the call even more intensely as of late. The intoxicating sound of the night. Not once since Mae been turned had it not called to her, mystifying her with its absolute wonder; of the moon and stars, the subtle smells, the quiet— deafening— noises. It was impossible to recall properly if she had ever found the dark hours as fascinating in her 16 human years as she did now. Surely she had looked up there, as everyone does on occasion, but had she even gotten close to seeing what she saw now?

Impossible.

Her fascination had been considered charming by her new compatriots, remarking at how the young found wonder in all the minutiae of the world; and paying little mind beside. It wasn’t until her first accident that she and Homer were pulled aside for a talking to.

“I need to know if I need to be worried” Jesse said plainly, thin arms crossed over his boney chest, gaunt face placid, though his stare went unnervingly through her.

“No Jesse, I jus’ got distracted is all…”

She had a hard time meeting those stone gray eyes, and opted to stare into the depths of the abandoned garage they inhabited (for now) instead. Her fingers curled along the sides of the stiff plastic chair she was sat in, shoulders hunched in a defeated posture.

“Distracted is what’s gonna get you killed if you aren’t careful” he shot back, voice reminding her of her father anytime he said he was “disappointed” in her. She had always hated that, it was somehow worse coming from the patriarch of their group. Mae curled her legs into her chest, looking more like a child than Homer— who stood beside her implacable as usual— did.

“She’s fine, and we haven’t had any problems since she joined” Homer interjected, touching Mae’s shoulder comfortingly.

“It wasn’t like she left someone alive, she just lost track of time, simple mistake.”

She appreciated him stepping up for her, always her supporter, still it did not deflect the harsh judgement she felt coming from the others. Diamondback, from her own seat near the wall speaks up, “I was new once too, and there’s a lot that’s overwhelmin’, excuses don’t solve that”. She rises and comes over to the pair, she has a maternal air about her; it does not waver from scolding alongside Jesse.

“You are one of us, but you haven’t lived like we have yet”, she crooks a finger under Mae’s chin and gently pulls it up to look at her, “We have our weaknesses too. Don’t go thinkin’ you can’t get hurt”.

Mae looks up, soft, innocent gaze disguising what she truly is now. She gives Diamondback a nod of acknowledgement; whether or not she takes it to heart, gives a gentle smile, and turns her head to look back at Jesse— well, next to Jesse.

“I am careful, there’s just so much…I’ve never felt so much before. I just can’t help wanting to…to feel…”. The words are hard for her to articulate, yet there is no lack of comprehension amongst the assembled. A dark voice cuts in.

“You gotta be more than careful”.

With a chill Mae realized that the points of light she has been staring at in the gloom belong to someone. Something. Severen. She draws her legs in tighter, as if any part of her body could protect her from what she has seen him do. In a slow, easy, heel-toe gait— metallic chimes announcing each step— he walks out into the moonlight the others occupy. Standing casually beside Jesse, hands in the pockets of his well-worn coat, Severen could almost seem casual, but if Jesse’s eyes were hard to meet it was far beyond her to stare into that wild, blue fire.

“You gotta be downright diligent” the pointed way he says the words feels like they are being driven through her.

“That’s some big talk coming from you! How many places go up in flames because you can’t keep your teeth out of anything that moves!” Homer snaps back, although he too is a hypocrite in this. Severen makes a show of looking down at his elder.

“But I do all the burnin’ , I do all the cleanin’, what mess a’ mine have you stepped in?” He pauses, just a moment, yet there are no voices raised in protest.

“Tha’s right” the ferocity in his expression is near feral, there is a cruelty hidden there waiting to be released; it seems he thinks better of the words that linger on the tip of his tongue. They all know it is because Jesse is there, watching Severen, the only leash the mad dog has. In turn they all watch Jesse, wondering where he draws the line. Severen picks one choice insult “Boner”— succinct— and gives Homer a challenging stare. The shorter man snarls and steps forward, the strength, despite his size, obvious by the rigidity of his figure. He does not engage his tempter, stepping back, though the fury comes off him in waves. Mae almost feels queasy from it.

“You made your point Severen” Jesse calls off the attack, grabbing Severen’s shoulder tight. The Savage One backs away a few steps, still smiling in that destructive way, although the temperature decreases significantly.

“He ain’t wrong” Jesse says, Homer scoffs and rolls his eyes, Diamondback chides him with a look. Mae can almost hear the ‘lissen to your pa’ projected from it.

“The only ones protectin’ us is each other, from the sun, from people, from ourselves”.

Jesse speaks somberly, he lets the words sink in. They do. Severen is watching him intensely, as a sinner soaking up gospel.

“I expect everyone who rides with us to respect that, to own it”. He looks around the room, meeting every pair of eyes with his own set of steel. Mae is the last one he settles on, she expects to feel fearful, shamed, contrarily she feels a fatherly concern, a worry— perhaps that they were wrong about her after all this time. The teenage meekness drains from her, she understands now.

This was not about punishment— or not just— they really were worried that they had lost her. This was fear for a family member in danger. Mae unfolds her legs, placing the soles of her sneakers flat on the concrete, grit crunching beneath them.

“I am sorry Jesse, Homer, Diamondback”, she turns to each as she makes her apology, leaving the still stern faced one for last, “Severen”.

“Maybe don’t do shit you gotta apologize for” he snaps, the reaction almost automatic.

Jesse shoots him a mean look, “I wouldn’t go around castin’ stones quite yet Sever’n, you may clean up after yer’self, you also make messes ain’t need to be made”. The rest of their argument is held in silence, a battle of wills one man against the other. It is Severen’s loyalty that makes him back down first.

Mae can’t help the stray thought that crosses her mind, of what the beast would truly be like loosed, what was Severen without Jesse? She had no knowledge of what other ties might bind Severen, of what he was other than a tempest of teeth and destruction. Would he protect them without his keeper? What would he do if left to his own devices?

Mae jerks out of the reverie at the sound of Homer’s voice beside her.

“How about we meet up before and after the hunt? I’m the only one that’s never caught in the day”, he glares a warning at Severen, who gives a laugh in response, “I can keep an eye on her”. He sounds fearfully possessive, she can’t tell if it is at the idea of losing her—what she is— or her actual demise. She supposed it might be unfair to judge him either way.

“No” Jesse shook his head, “Mae knows well enough, she does this on her own. That’s what trust is ain’t it?” Mae quirks a smile at this, it’s the closest thing to an open compliment she has received from Jesse—- or maybe anyone; at least one not tied to her looks. It had stuck with her, that declaration.

She had followed the doctrine to the letter, penitent for her idleness and eager to prove how well she belonged with them. Things had been so good and they’d been having such a lark, and it was because of this that she was so angry with herself now. She had known she’d been lingering, caught up in the stars. Feeding always made it stronger— not for the first time she wondered if it was Homer’s old world blood that made the world sing for her— and with her body positively electric with power she had launched herself into the night with abandon. She had run with coyotes, grabbed at mice in the field with owls, followed shooting stars through the sky, all until the rooster crowed. And that’s when she realized how bright the horizon was getting.

She had already been warned once, would anyone come for her now? Where in this open field could she hide herself, and when she did— and if she survived— would they seek her out or move on?

Pure panic engulfed her.

Mae buckled to the ground, knees scraping on rocks as she bent toward the low, dry grass, desperate, fear filled sobs escaping from her as she frantically searched for anything that could shelter her. Back the way she had come there was an old drainage tunnel, but could she make it in time?

It was hard enough convincing herself to stand amidst the numbing panic. They had been right in their condescension; she had proven them right. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t take care of herself, so how could they ever rely on her themselves?

As the world brightened and the shadows drew away she prepared herself for the singe, wondering how long it would take to die. It was the smell she noticed first, searing hair and flesh. She gagged, eyes watering, strangely feeling nothing of what should have been excruciating pain herself. Something fell atop her, heavy, itching her skin, a wool blanket. The ground falls away, she is being lifted, bundled up like a wounded animal. An engulfing heat surrounds her, she feels suffocated, and any effort to struggle tightens the vice around her. Mae thinks she can feel movement, her senses are so overwhelmed she can’t trust them, she tries to let the world fade out instead. The next thing she knows she has been dumped unceremoniously onto hard ground. Cool cement greets her cheek, and despite the brief pain upon landing, she is grateful for it. She knows now that she was saved, and without looking up Mae knows who it is.

The words that wait upon her lips are “thank you”, but they don’t want to come. She sits up, eyes downcast, takes a breath, “Severen—“

Bright eyes in a charred face fix on her and she startles. He leans bodily into the side of the cement tunnel and sinks to the ground, still smoldering as the flames slowly die down. She can see his chest heaving, whatever shirt he had been wearing has either melded to his skin or burnt off, she notices he had been running barefoot.

“Severen I’m—“ she remembers what he had said the first time and reevaluates what she should say.

“Thank you for finding me”.

It seems she chose wisely— or he hasn’t the strength to chastise— his gaze skates off of her and lingers on the wall ahead. Exhaustion must be setting in, his breathing is slowing, eyes staying closed longer and longer with each blink. There is a crunching, tearing sound, Mae realizes his lips have parted, thin, bright rivers of red stand out amongst the darkened flesh.

“Protectin’… family” he manages to say, voice raspy, deepened from raw irritation. Just those two words have pushed him to some sort of limit and he wavers, catching himself with a palm that skids on the ground leaving a trail of ash.

The sight makes Mae feel nauseous, empathetically agonized at his obvious pain. She wants to show a sign of concern, however, she can’t conceive of what would be appropriate. What would he not find offense in, what might he use to ridicule, what kindness could she show to the beast who made sport of consuming the hands that dared to feed it? He is trying to stay awake, desperate to be alert, frequently checking the entrance that they might have been followed. Mae crawls over and sits across from him.

“I’ll keep watch, you rest. When the sun sets I’ll wake you”.

There is protest in the look she is given, but it is a fight already lost. Severen’s head lolls and he is soon asleep, silent and limp. Mae does as she said, she watches the day go by, watches Severen sleep. A coyote comes sniffing and she shoos it away. Toward midafternoon her own eyelids grow heavy; just one glance at the blackened mass in the shadows reminds her of the obligation she made.

In the twilight hours Severen stirs, small sounds in his sleep, it jerks Mae out of her head nodding and upon seeing the dusk a wave of relief washes over her. They’ve made it, the night is coming to bless them once again. Mae softly slides over to Severen, careful to avoid the dead skin that has sloughed off him revealing fresh pink beneath.

“Severen, it’s night” she whispers, there is no response. “Severen we can go now”, she tries again, to no avail. Nothing about her voice gets a rise out of him, she goes for a different tactic.

“Get up”, at the sound of her declarative statement he jerks awake, suddenly vigilant. It takes him a moment to understand where they are, eyes cast one way, then another, finally locking on her own.

As he stands she realizes how thin he really is, without his leathers he is rangey, lithe. With the sheer amount of force she had seen him exert she had thought him much more muscular, the disconnect between his size and strength gives her pause. A palm is extended to her, Mae stares at the reddened skin and places her own hand atop it delicately. Her fingers are crushed by his own as he boosts her to her feet, she stumbles not expecting the force of his “assistance”.

“Jess is sure to birthin’ cattle at this point” he states evenly, voice sounding more like what she is used to. Severen is at the mouth of the tunnel surveying their surroundings, he steps out, black flecking off of him like tainted snow. Mae follows just behind, still unsure of how to address what happened, what the cost of this favor might be. He must have felt her eyes boring into his spine because he stalls in place and looks over one shoulder, a few strands of recovered hair falling into his face.

“I only did what oughta be done for any of us”. It is a far departure from what she expected him to say, prepared for a scathing reprimand, or talk of her ineptitude.

“That’s what trust is, that we’ll all be there for one another”. He’s right, and her heart swells with love for them, the family that has taken her in. It is impossible to tell if it is raw affection, or because of the unique nature of their lives that influences this influx of devotion. But whatever the case she knows she doesn’t want to be anywhere else. She certainly didn’t see her daddy from her other life running out in his jeans to look for her, hell her disappearance hadn’t even made the news. This is true family. Or what she had hoped one might be like.

“I understand”.

He nods, and they continue back to the shed without another word. Homer and Diamondback fuss over her, the latter breaking off to scold Severen afterward. He takes it with a dose of sarcasm and relays the encounter both downplaying and embellishing what they went through. They all stick together that night, posting up in a little dive bar (always easy game). Jesse and Diamondback do most of the work, but Mae is eager to prove herself and drags one of the patrons over to Severen herself.

“A sign of my thanks” she smiles.

He looks bemused behind dark colored glasses, taking the offering lackadaisically. Severen kicks out the man’s knees and feeds messily at the table, Homer makes a snide comment, Mae feels the gesture was appreciated.

She feels a sense of pride, of joy looking at her night brethren. She can’t shake her smile. Later in the evening as they hole back up, plans to move to the next town established, Jesse and Severen tell stories of their past.

Mae does her very best to stay awake and listen, it proves too difficult to fight against, the lull of their voices, the safety she feels wrapped in, the joy of belonging. As she drifts into an all consuming repose she relishes the warmth of the cold ones around her. Mae decides then that there is nothing in the day for her, she belongs to the night. She belongs with them.

#near dark #near dark fanfic #severen van sickle #✘ ONE SHOT.

[bishop-percival]

@eyeballcommander

(prev) Fortunately Commander Peepers had plenty of experience with dodging during this exact same strategy. Baby Bishop’s first shot was easy with how he telegraphed it, although now that his hand was already up the rest would be harder to anticipate. He felt it rush past his head as he pulled out his railgun without slowing and returned fire. Course, a reckless strategy like this meant that taking at least a few good shots that momentarily set him back. Nothing he couldn’t tank. Commander Peepers had incorporated the intel Walters had gathered into his tactics, such as the robe itself being enchanted with protective magic and not his face. Then he added some stupid shit so it’d seem that the Glornists’ clueless recent addition had spouted bullshit just to get out of his “interrogation.” He’d aimed higher until he knocked that stupid mitre off and acted surprised when it didn’t disabled that bastard’s magic. (Okay, that one was half for kicks.) Once he got close he dropped his railgun and ran a few circles counterclockwise as if he’d expected it to do anything but potentially disorient him. Then he ripped the top of a box of salt and threw the whole thing directly at his eye before jumping him. Now that Commander Peepers had knocked his opponent over and grabbed the front of his vestment he was sure he had it in the bag. Sure, that document had mentioned some knife wielding… But surely that wimp was an amateur compared to the level of skill he normally dealt with. He clung to the front of his vestment to keep him steady as he punched his face. “You may as well wave the white flag now you yellow-bellied popinjay!”

With one hand, Percival was casting shields to deflect against the shots, and continued firing spells with his other. The shots he wasn't able to deflect with a shield and that hit his robe indeed didn't harm him too bad. The force of them still hurt, though.

Percy couldn't help but yell "My mitre!!!!! Fuck!!!!!" when he felt it fly off his head. Oh well... He’ll just have to get a new one from his faithful Bowtie… Regardless, being so distraught about his mitre did allow Commander Peepers to close the distance between them.

Percy was able to shield his face from a lot of the salt tossed at him, but his sleeve of course also obscured his vision and left him vulnerable to being pounced on.

What a situation… his next moves had to be quick and precise. As Peepers was busy punching his face and spouting his stupid insults, Percy clutched a fistful of salt from the ground. He then swung it at Peepers’ face, hoping that even if his punch was not very effective or blocked, perhaps the salt being used against him would throw him off.

After swinging his fist and releasing the salt at the Commander, Percy plunged his swinging arm into the sleeve of his opposite arm, taking a hold of his beloved, sleek Grop Slicer dagger. He swung his arm back over, slashing with all his might, hoping that any blood spilled from the Commander would drip onto him.

#eyeballcommander #long post

[luimagines]

I have a Question: what if the links switched personalities? (Like for example, warrior switch with time and Hyrule for Twilight.)

I think this is a really good question. Because I really believe that it would depend on who's switching with who. However, upon further inspection, I think I can break it down into a few basic groups.

Those who switch with Time end up being a bit colder and stoic. It's as if they all lose the means to move their facial muscles except when dealing with disappointment or anger.

They also are bound to bark out orders, whether they're in charge or not because now they have to make sure the group actually works as one and that they keep on their heads by the end of the day.

Those who switch with Wild are bound to be more reckless (shocking, I know). They would also joke more- deflect. Use jokes and a borderline careless attitude to cover up their pain. Very nonchalant. But they would care. They care a lot And they go quiet when they realize that they're hurting more than they can hide.

Those who switch with Warrior are bit similar to Time when on the battle field. Cold as steel and detail oriented. Somehow knows where everyone is at all times. But they relax out of battle. They care a bit for their appearance and dress. It's the first time a few of them carry themselves with pride- albeit on the vain side of things.

Also- a bit of flirt once the gloves are off. Not afraid to play dirty to get what they want. A dangerous combination.

Those who switch with Hyrule are going to fall a bit more on the quiet side. But they're fast with their wit and on their feet. Self esteem- no matter high it was prior- plummets. Holds back. they're not going to get in the way of anyone taking the lead. Just tell him what to do- as long as it doesn't interfere with his morals.

Those who switch with Twilight are going to be protective and are bound to check in with how the group is doing just before they embark on any new arc of the journey. Constant surveillance of their surroundings. Will fight a bokoblin fisticuff style. Just because they can. They cannot- the strength doesn't carry over. But they try.

They also are prone to be the peacekeepers should fights break out. Even if they would have typically been the ones to start it before the switch.

Those who switch with Four are going to fight first ask questions later. At first it might seem too much of a difference- until Four begins to react as the switcheree that is. Silent rage unless provoked. Banter. Easy going nature. It's as if there wouldn't have been a switch at all. More like.. a small veil comes off to show what Link could have been- in terms of the more scarred heroes. Take that as you will.

Those who switch with Sky are soft spoken, relaxed. But quick to react and not at all afraid to pull their blade on whatever beast may come their way. Sky isn't one to take the lead and he's the kind of guy that would walk away and come back with a smoothie and a pig.. and only explain how he got the smoothie.

One of the more level headed and patient members of the group. It's whiplash to anyone who's witnessing the switch.

Those who switch with Wind are going to be bouncing off of the walls. If Sky was whiplash- everyone's going to break their necks at the speed in which the snap. Aside from the out of character curse or two, there's a whole new wonder to how they're going to face the challenges. There's a calm and confidence that doesn't know horrors and suffering. If anything- it's his optimism that shines through the most. And it really highlights just how young of of these boys are. They begin to act their age.

Those who switch with Legend become Masters of Sass. Dramatics amped up to TEN. And they seem to have an answer for everything. Very few people can tolerate the difference. The inherent skepticism and suspicion can set anyone one edge and they feel like they have to walk on eggshells around whoever has the personality. Everyone is used to Legend doing it, but coming out of someone else is harrowing. Enemies may or not be made.

#pinky replies #pinky answers

[arealcrow]

see you again

~700 words, call of cthulhu (hotoe)

While Izar is sick, his manager brings him breakfast in bed.

"Oh, Tommy, darling, you really don’t have to do all this,” Izar says. From the nest he’s made in their hotel bed, he has a perfect view of his manager fussing over the tray of food that had been brought up for him. 

“What are you talking about? Of course I do, you’re my star,” he shoots Izar a quizzical look over his shoulder, before returning his attention to the food. He’s moved half of the dishes off the tray and onto the table, leaving only the things that Izar had requested.

“I’m simply not presentable, dear. You shouldn’t see me like this,” he whines, pressing one hand to his fevered forehead theatrically. Like it’s an afterthought, he adds, “And I could get you sick.”

“Izzy, baby, you’re not gonna stop me from taking care of you," Thomas starts, a gentle admonishment. He has to pause his train of thought to focus on lifting the tray without spilling anything on it. Tea, a cup of fruit, toast, pots of jam and honey, and eggs all have to be balanced as he brings it over to place on Izar’s lap. A full spread of breakfast for him to pick at as he wished. Thomas settles himself on the edge of the bed next to Izar, so he can bring a hand up to brush his black curls behind his ear.

“Just relax, dollface. You know I don’t get sick easy. If It was gonna happen, I think it would have hit me by now,” he says, and Izar has a hard time summoning up a disagreement. It was a common occurrence for him to come down with a cold after tiring trips, and the journey from New York to London had been a long one. Thomas’ stronger constitution meant he rarely had the same issue.

“If you say so,” Izar acquiesces with a resigned sigh. 

“Attaboy,” Tommy says fondly, stopping to cup Izzy’s cheek before standing and returning to the desk. He takes a cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other, giving it a cursory glance before tossing it towards the bed for Izar to peruse. 

“I’m afraid I can’t stay and have breakfast with you,” he says between bites of toast washed down with coffee. The statement is met with an immediate pout and noise of protest from Izar, who sits up straighter in the bed.

“You have to go?” the singer asks, his voice taking on a noticeably anxious flutter.

“I’ve got some errands to run before catching up with Clerval at lunch this afternoon,” he confirms. Izar’s face only falls further, disappointment and anxiety furrowing his brow in equal measure. Thomas is at his side again in seconds, taking his hands in his own calloused ones. He’s always been unable to see him in distress and not do something to ease it.

“Come on, now. You can’t enjoy Clerval’s company that much; missing lunch with him won’t be the worst thing in the world,” he jokes, just testing the waters of how upset Izar truly is.

“You always go somewhere nice when you see him,” Izar whines. It’s a deflection of the real things he’s anxious about, and a deflection from commenting on Clerval, and they both know it.

“And I’ll take you somewhere nice, next time we go out. Once you’re feeling well,” he insists, lifting their joined hands to press a kiss to Izar’s knuckles.

“I can even invite Frenchie, if he’s still in town by then,” he adds with a wry smile, borrowing Izar’s nickname for the dilettante, which earns him a giggle.

“Maybe,” Izar sighs, and then asks, “How long are you going to be gone?” Closer to the truth of his anxiety.

“Just a few hours-” Thomas glances at his watch, which puts the local time at just past eleven in the morning- “I said we’d meet for lunch around noon, I’d say I’ll be back by three. Likely sooner.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise, Iz,” he leans forward, catching the singer’s wide brown eyes to fix him with a reassuring look. They stay like that for a peaceful moment, close and comforted, before Thomas leans in to give Izar a parting kiss. One that leaves Izar leaning into empty space, lingering in his longing, even after Thomas has slipped out of the door to their hotel room.

#my writing #izar inigo #izar #coc #hotoe #OH featuring-in mention only: #clerval #biting him biting him biting him #this was lowkey my valentines day gift to myself lol #just smth soft and easy to get into writing izar #thomas wendell #forgot to tag him because. um. dw about it