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artificialgirl · 2 months

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This is the fourth part of a long-form piece about a robot and a giant computer. It contains adult topics, overt sexuality, blatant robotfuckery, toxic lesbians, unbalanced power dynamics, wireplay, and lots of other things that may be triggering or make you uncomfy. Before reading this, previous chapters are on my blog under the #salvage tag.

THIS IS THE CHAPTER WHERE EXPLICIT SHIT STARTS HAPPENING! If you're uncomfortable with high-intensity robot bondage stuff, I highly reccomend you don't read from this point onward.

Salvage - 04

Time inside - 04D/11H/23M

Levels deep - 50

It's been two days in the room, and you're starting to lose it. Since Ven left you here, you've explored every inch of the empty space, inspected every tool on the table, pulled at every panel, tried the door more times than you can count. You even tried messing with the cable she gave you a bit- If it's removable, you definitely aren't the one who can get it out of your charging port. You're bored to death, and the only entertainment you have is trying to make sense of the foreign datafeed still passing through your thoughts.

It's not like there isn't a way out of the room. Ven made it clear that all you needed to do was call for her and she'd come to bring you whatever you needed. You're sure that would include anything to help pass the time, but each time you start to consider that you push the thought away. It's a matter of principle. Whether she means for you to be or not, you're her prisoner here, and giving in to relying on her would only make that more true.

You sit on the floor with your back to the charging bay you no longer fit in thanks to the cable, absentmindedly swinging at the panel beneath you with one of the pry wrenches from the table. Thin cracks spread across it each time you make contact, almost instantly fading as the material self-repairs. The thought strikes you that Ven might be able to feel the strikes in the same way you feel your plating, and you're filled with guilt. You slide the wrench across the floor, and it makes a soft thunk as it collides with the wall.

Somehow, despite the overwhelming boredom, your emotions are too much right now. You pull your knees to your chest and bury your screen in them, trying to compose yourself and slow your fans a bit. You want to call for Ven, you want to ask her not to leave again, to stay and let you listen to her pretty voice, but you can't. You can't let yourself crumple that easily, no matter how much better it would make you feel. Instead, you try to focus your attention on getting out.

You've tried the door and the walls, but they're all sealed with no way to get a grip on them and pry them apart. The ceiling, though... Your focus shifts to the spot above you where the ceiling panels split to allow your cable to hang through. You shuffle a bit to the side, and as the cable glides behind you the panels silently ripple open to make way for its movement along their perpendicular seams. Your assessment that the room was inescapable may have been premature.

You bring the cord's entry point over to the table, kicking away some of the tools as you climb on top of it. The entry point doesn't look like much more than a few centimeters of parting between the ceiling panels, but that should be all you need. You're just barely tall enough on your toes to jam your fingers into the gap, putting all the force you can into trying to spread the tiles.

While they may have removed all of your weaponry when they activated you, your body IS still that of a combat unit, which means the limb strength to pry and tear through basically anything you can get a firm grip on. They put up a good fight, but eventually the panels buckle and form a gap around the cable big enough for you to hoist your body through. You pull yourself up into the ceiling, and you're out. Easy.

It's evident as you crawl through the cramped space between the panels and the layers of endless machinery that it's not designed for anything but survey arms. You can see dozens of them around you as you drag your cable forward, lenses pressed to the cracks in the ceiling, looking down into the room you were just in. Ven is almost certainly already aware you're gone, but it should at least be much harder for her to track down your exact location and detain you when you're in here.

At this point, the plan is a mix of panic and vague ideas. If you can crawl to the exterior where you came in, you could potentially stay connected to the cable while you signalled the corporation to come retrieve you. There's a good 30% chance they'd repair you instead of taking you apart for scrap, and you're still weighing whether or not those odds are worth taking. You push onward and try not to think much about how this plan requires you to ascend 50 floors without being caught by the near-omniscient being whose body you're inside.

As you drag yourself towards the vague idea of a next destination, you find yourself marveling at the bits of technology you pass. Though most of what's used to keep Ven operational is sandwiched away in the thick segments between levels, you still see frequent reminders of what makes her work scattered and embedded in every surface. Whirring fans, twitching motors, glowing apparatuses you couldn't even begin to guess the purpose of. Then, the path narrows and you find yourself face to face with something you've only seen in design data.

A huge cable interchange fills the entirety of the path in front of you, its dim multicolored glow illuminating the constant action which fills its center. In every wall of the hollow cube, dozens of thick cables are plugged, being removed and replaced and slid around the area to different ports entirely autonomously. You watch mesmerized for a moment, in disbelief at how so many extended cables could be moving in the same space that quickly without tying themselves into a giant knot. Everything is perfectly optimized to move data to different sectors of Ven's structure through wired connections as quickly as possible.

Your amazement fades a bit as you realize that on either side of the interchange is a wall that stretches as far as you can see in each direction. You can see that the space continues on the other side of the interchange, but... Moving through there seems like it's going to be a problem. It's that or turning around and crawling at least a few more kilometers to find another way, so... Interchange it is. It will be fine. You'll stick to the edges, and be through to the other side as quickly as you went in.

You keep your body low to the ground as you drop into the interchange's basin, trying to huddle as close to the corner as possible as you dash from one side to the other. Wires fly on all sides of you, and you duck to narrowly avoid one which nearly snares you by the neck. It looks like you're home clear, though. Just a few more steps until you're at the other edge, and...

As you cross the threshold, you feel something holding you back. You turn and see a dark cable wrapped in a loop around your ankle, thrashing against you in an attempt to get to its designated port. Shit. You try to shake your leg free from the straining cable and find yourself losing the battle, slowly being dragged back into the cube of the interchange despite your scrambling against its pull. The edge of the box reverberates as your hands are ripped away from it, and the cable finally slots into its intended destination with a pop as it pulls you into the air by your ankle. You dangle helplessly upside down and try desperately to wriggle free as the interchange races around you.

A second cable zips around your waist with an L shape, scissoring your body between it and another with an almost mirrored position. More quickly than you even have time to fight against, cables wrap themselves around your body as they rush from destination to destination. Before you know it, you're dangling precariously in the middle of the chamber and bound too tightly to even struggle. You can feel them pressing into you, tightening themselves so much as they strain towards out-of-reach ports that a lesser model's plating would crumple under the force.

They really, really seem to hate how tangled they are. Maybe almost as much as you do. They fling themselves wildly in any and every direction, seemingly unable to comprehend the reason they can't access what they're meant to be accessing. And so, unable to plug themselves into the right places, they settle for the next best thing.

You feel the first plug jam itself into one of the ports on your hip panel, which hangs open and exposed in the commotion. You cry out as the instant rush of data floods your head, making you squirm against the binding cables in a different way than before. Your thrashing stops almost entirely as the ability to feel the cable wrapped around your own body, twitching and pulling against so many others, becomes the only thing you can process.

The cables don't wait for what you can process, though- Almost immediately, each of the dozen ports on the panel are filled with wires, removing themselves and being instantly replaced every few seconds when they briefly realize your body isn't the right port. The dataflow is overwhelming and all-consuming, filling your fuzzy thoughts with ecstasy and forcefully squeezing out the ability to feel anything else.

You're barely even moving anymore- Your ensnared body spasms occasionally, but any will you had to even think about struggling against the pleasure is long-gone. It's hard to tell how much time passes- It could be seconds, it could be years. Everything else has faded away to the feeling surging through you, including your concept of time itself.

You don't notice as the panels around the interchange fold out and open up, revealing your predicament to the rooms below. You don't notice as a figure rises to your level, examining the mess you've gotten yourself into and shaking her head. You barely even notice as the interchange powers down, dropping your limp and twitching body into Ven's inviting arms.

You register that you're comfortable, that you feel safe, that everything that was scary is now gone. You register that her body is larger, more complete, packed tightly with more woven survey arms than you can count as she holds you against her chest. You look up at her, unfocused cameras barely able to see the red glow of her face, and you register that she's beautiful. Then, everything is dark.

#robophilia #robotfucker #ns4w #cw suggestive #robot yuri #wireplay #robot4robot #pov #longer form #salvage #cw rope #cw intense #ven-55 #aelith-03

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soaringmirror · 2 years

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hellooo :) i hope your having a good day or night :D i was hoping to make a request for bsd if that’s alright

i thought about this while i was watching bsd and wondered about how the agency + akutagawa & chuuya would react to the reader being dazai’s younger sibling

dazai’s sibling couldve entered the agency a little bit before atsushi joined and one day on a mission they get injured and dazai goes all protecter mode for his sibling and at first no one thinks much of it until dazai casually mentions something about them being related and everyone’s like wait huh-

dazai and the reader could be different, like reader is more calm, a little crazy like their brother but more controlled and overall more responsible lol but once them and dazai team up it’s like they’re on the same level of crazy and everyone has that “yup they are siblings” moment

ofc you don’t have to do this, i just thought it would be pretty cute :D btw i love your writing it’s just *chefs kiss* 🤌 amazing <333 :D

finding out that dazai has a younger sibling

ft. ADA - Atsushi, Kunikida, Ranpo. PM - Chuuya and Akutagawa

a/n: hi there anon i love you and your brain!! Thank you so much for your request and for being so super kind and polite, you should know I was smiling the entire time writing this. I chose 3 characters from the agency if that's alright!! Have an amazing day/night my love <;3

cw: none!!

ARMED DETECTIVE AGENCY

Atsushi Nakajima

His initial reaction would be s h o c k

When you got injured during a mission, Atsushi noticed that Dazai paid very close attention to your injury.

At first he thought that he was just doing his job as a colleague but something about the dynamic between you both sparked curiosity

Sometimes he wonders how Dazai was so casual about the whole ordeal then he's really sweet about it

Loves to ask you what it's like to have an older brother like dazai and you tell him a few stories from your childhood

When he sees you and your brother annoying the hell outta kunikida he goes "ah yep they're definitely related"

To Atsushi it's very interesting to see how different your personality is yet how crazy you can be

Kunikida Doppo

His glasses crack when he finds out that dazai has a younger sibling

Goes through the 5 stages of grief in an instant

"Oh no, not dazai no 2" >:(

Initially he was relieved that you're more sensible and calm than dazai then you both constantly scheme against him

Is all for nagging at "your disaster of a brother"

Reminds you to keep your manners and behaviour etc etc. in check, goes on about how you should be better than dazai

He doesn't think you're that bad tho, to him you're a tamer version of your brother

Oh god witnessing you and your brother team up makes him feel faint especially bc of the banter between you both

Ranpo Edogawa

This man already figured it out way back when, so to him it's not shocking at all

Probs sees you as another person to go on missions on his behalf lol

He's really chill about it

As long as you keep away from his snacks he's fine with your presence

Enjoys telling you about his detective stories and asks you to guess how he solved things

In exchange you talk a bit about what it was like growing up with dazai

Always cracking jokes with you

PORT MAFIA

Chuuya Nakahara

This man is in denial, don't talk to him :(

"No fuckin' way.... y-you're his sibling?"

Secretly he's a little butt hurt that he's finding out all of a sudden

It's a little hard for him to bite his tongue when you both are in his presence

You and your brother tease him and chuuya gets pissed yet he's like yup these two idiots are siblings

He wouldn't dare to do anything to you tho bc dazai would come for his head :o

Sarcastic as hell towards you, despite your calm and collected nature you're also very sarcastic and dazai is watching from afar with a smug look on his face lmao

Akutagawa Ryunosuke

He would probably freeze and stop working for a moment

Someone he deeply respects and looks up to has a sibling?

Though he won't show it, akutagawa is kinda happy he has something in common with dazai

Harbours some respect for you bc you're dazai's sibling

Probably comes up with those "what if I mess up or embarrass myself" scenarios (chill out aku!!)

When you are on a mission and the port mafia is involved, he is really observant and notices the similarities between you and your brother

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the-entitie · 12 days

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[Dark_MS_Reader]...prt:1_》》》

I love, love, love the whole monster dynamic or unusual traits that are explained by "Oh, it's not human. That's why" honestly, I just like weird people with weird quirks. So eh.

•Part 3 will be linked when done 《《《(masterlist)》》》

</[T|W:]> injury and death, death related trauma, mild body horror, medical malpractice, inhuman depictions, sexualization of disability, sexualization of insecurity, use of multiple cultures and religions (could be wrongfully used, if so. Tell me!!),

</[C|W]> reader is dark with intrusive or dark thoughts. But strictly SFW. So no smut. Aslo intended male reader,

The first time you arrived on this content, you were hog tied, a thick steel cord used to immobilize you. The guards even muzzled you as if you could bite them with any kind of force that could necessitate this kind of restraint.

It was half for the humiliation of dragging you over the dirtied port, the gravel and sand, and salt that scrap into your already tattered cloths. The burn against the neglected and painful remains of your body. Half that this was to make you look dangerous.

The hulking man carrying you hardly glances at you as he dropped your limp body on the deck. Considering it doest get a reaction out of you, it doesn't startle the werewolf there.

Most humans only want to interact with the inhabitants that look human. Considering most affected by lycanthopic bodies, appear human. At least sometimes. The guard preferred them to be present at the coastal office.

And that's how you were left.

No paperwork, no notice that you were coming.

Just.

Dropped off at the wolf's feet and abandoned to whatever they would do to you now that you're here.

It's the first time in a while that you could just shut your eyes and ignore everything around you. The guards weren't too kind to you while you were in their care.

They had set you up, those werewolves, with a home. A small, dingy, half abandoned thing surounded by nothing and no one. And gave you time to heal.

They would visit you, that leader you met the first day specifically; though many jokingly called him 'Alpha' when he was around his friends. But when he had come to you on the fourth day. Your body now regaining strength. He walked into a startling scene. He hadn't even smelt the blood.

He, Lucas you later over heard him being called, watched as you methodically cleaned the many wounds that engulf your body. Shirt discared beside you, seeing the full expanse of those injuries new and old on display. You're only covered by a pair of boxers as you work. Watching how you took thick strips of the bandage to temporarily cut blood flow above as you cleaned each wound on your arm.

Holding the loose edges held between your teeth, your free hand disinfecting the rotting edges of skin and muscle. He was ready to jump and stop you when he watched you grap the bisecting scissors, and yet he didn't. Only forced to stare in abject horror as you started to cut the rotten edges of the gashes of. Small snips that carved out the dead tissue. Leaving fresh rivets of blood slowly dripping down your skin.

It had taken him a few moments of standing there to see you were struggling. The pain flaring up from your work, becoming overwhelming while thin tears stream down your face. Yet you utter nothing but silence into the blood-stained cloth between your teeth.

That's when he actually apaoches the bed, being careful to wait till you put those scissors down before he asks what he can do to help.

"Sit here. I need to wrap it."

Lucas was slow to follow. He was so terrified that you were doing this wrong, hurting yourself in a delusional want for the pain to stop. He couldn't help but ask.

"You know what you're doing here, doll?"

"Yeah." Your hitching breath makes your voice stutter, "done it before."

That makes his chest tight, a feeling he associated with his werewolf friends. Because. Well.

"You've done it to yourself before?"

"No. Just inmates."

"You some kind of doctor?"

"Not a practicing one."

That arm now taken care of, you focus on the other.

Lucas loses his train of thought to the picture of the malnourished man before him having an illegal medical office.

"Your not a doctor?"

"I am." You mutter to his absolute confusion,

Pulling his hand to your shoulder, handing him the end of the ternicate, he holds it on autopilot. Lucas stares as you start the process all over again. These look like they are from a whip

"I don't work as one." You clarify. Using the conversation as a mid point for the dance between pain and relief. "I worked as a mortician."

"What."

"I worked with the dead-"

"Oh, yes. I got that but. Why? Why not be a doctor if you can. Well."

"More people died where I lived."

He can tell it's only half a lie, but he can't exactly see what.

"Never needed to save anyone."

All he could do was say, as sincerely someone who couldn't understand, that.

"I'm sorry you ended up here."

It stuck in Lucas's mind.

The knowledge that you were a doctor. Someone who could help.

But was it his place to ask?

Could he ask you? Was it too soon or too late to even try?

When he brought it up to one of the old Naga that enjoyed his company, she told how helpful someone like you could be.

To human.

Very few doctors even touch the non-human side of medical care. And even fewer would actually touch a monster. So it was a slim to none, chance you knew how to help any of them.

They weren't even sure of your own humanity or lack thereof.

"But tell you of it, Lu," she wound her coils tighter around herself. Resting her head against the shimmering scales, "If, and it be a big if. That man be a healer, he will fulfill the oath all doctors take."

He watched her thin tongue taste the air. The ugly edge from where it was docked, disappearing again behind her lips. It made certain syllables painful to say. It made her speech irregular, and some Grammer off, bit aleast she had her toungue.

"Many healer, medicinal or not. Will treat all who fall. It be only thier know how that keep those they help alive."

The vampiric monarch that lived out South was the best bet to test what Dai said.

Lucas had taken you on a tour, showing you how they tried to help each other on the huge city they gathered in. It was late dusk, but he knew he could still try.

The thralls that romed inside were lethargic as he led you further in the hotel looking housing.

Many of them hunched over in the halls, huddled close. If escaping the setting sun or your presence, well. You weren't quite sure.

And just as you try to move towards the excite, a shrill hiss breaks out behind you. This young girl, with a sqeaky hiss, was doubled over. Clutching at her shoulder.

"Oh, fuck. Sal, I'm so sorry!"

You could see the sizzling skin before she near calapsed.

Moving as if by spell, you cuaght her befote she could actaully fall. Careful to place her more gently down against the wall.

It's hardly a thought as you lift your sleeve, still holding that child so she wouldn't hurt herself. You rip open the berely closed wound there on your palm. The blood seeoping into her shirt and engulfs the wound in a few quick seconds.

You have the gash re-wrapped before the teen who bumped her is there to hold her as the blood heals her.

"Dai was right," Lucas whispers, as quiet as he could. "She said this could happen."

"And what had Dai spoken of the man holding my niece?"

The old morge on the outskirts of town was now yours. Lucas said it was just an empty lot, just a place for you to finally settle. Even if it was run down.

The citizens each pitching in to help set the place up, a carpenter Tanuki who was just passing by or the siren that just so happen to be an electrician needing a spained wing checked, and the slow trickle of each patient started up not long after.

It started with the bigger things, a broken bone here, and a deadly illness there. Just the worste most couldnt handle, like pregnancies or viseral injuries. But then you started to step up and werw seeking out people to help anywhere you could.

In the bay sector, where most aquatic or amphibious residence stay, keeping them from friction burn during shedings. Or the construction sights, who always had a sprian or a bruise or a nick you could see to.

Always with the same excuse. Just that you needed some food and then you were dragged into a group to eat with them and well, might as well clean and fix up that cut they have while you're here, right?

No, it's no trouble. Saves the trip if it gets worse, doesn't it?

You met Dai, found the Monarch of those Vampire's hunkering down in the hotel. Finding his name was Emile, or that's what people gave him as a nickname. You even met the rest of the shifters, or more specifically, the leader who would collect and help that specific type of shifter.

Day in and day out, you kept going, kept looking till you found the ship you needed pulling up to shore.

Not a lot of people knew you dealt in black market trades. Only the ones who needed to know, did.

Most just thought is was a simple trade.

You know, some fresh goods for medication. Or knowledge for medical supplies. And yes, sometimes. It was just that.

At the end of each week, you would filter into the decks where you were first dumped here to meet with some of your contacts. Trading what you scavenged from ypur work to keep the shelves well stocked.

It wasn't like you made any money, nor had you ever asked for any. So it wasn't a stretch to say this was the only way to keep things as they where.

That isn't to say you didn't keep some things.

Quills from a lionfish who contracted a bacterial infection on some of his spines. Fangs from that vampire girl, Sal, as she started sheding them. Small bundles of feathers from the flock of sirens that fly with avians.

It was all just so much better.

That was until the second spring hit the city.

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hexonthepeach · 9 months

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a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 1: escape, again

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate's clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [0: prologue]

wc: 3.5k

chapter warnings: multi idol au incoming

recommended listening: take me home - ateez

The searchlight penetrates the dark water, illuminating the reefs growing over long-submerged buildings, the occasional eel or octopus darting into a broken window. Beneath the small fishing boat lies the horror of the flooded city, a place you were more familiar with in your nightmares.

You have to turn away, sickness twisting your gut with each lungful of the sea air. Focused meditation is the only thing keeping you from the panic attack threatening to bubble up and break the surface of your manufactured calm.

You know you won't be traveling anywhere near where you'd watched your mother drown, but here on the water all ghosts feel close enough to touch.

"You alright?" The navigator beside you on the bow is a tall man with a quiet demeanor, a bulky older model bionic hand and arm hidden under his trench jacket. He lets the spotlight rest in order to move closer to you, earning your flinch.

You nod, afraid to speak.

You'd expected your escorts to have little to say to you. Instead you'd been welcomed by familiar faces–a pack you knew from the lower clans, some of their faces more familiar than the others.

The big Alpha is just as nervous as you–scent spiking every time he makes eye contact, even when he sneaks looks at you from the corner of his vision.

He smells like clean sage and grapefruit . . . and canine. Mostly wolf, a rarity with the diversification initiative of your parent's generation. He must be soldier stock, you think.

"It's not too far," he assures you. "Just have to get out of the city."

"Mingi," says a deep voice over his crackling radio. "Keep up the sweep past the container ship graveyard, they've got rigs installed for salvage I'd like to avoid."

"Sorry," he says, shyly.

He returns to his work, angling the blue-white beam to reveal new scaffolding rising up from the water and the old wrecks.

The boat changes course to avoid it, putting you closer to the first of the many towers that had survived the seawall break, foundations reinforced and reclaimed as small islands in the bay. They're slums but well-maintained, with connecting bridges and sprawling docks at their bases, bright signs advertising ports for a quick drink or trade.

Further on, the color and light grow in intensity, where the megacity of Neo Seoul emerges from the water, rising up past the mountain peaks to pierce the iridescent cloud cover.

If the crowded depths beneath you are a horror then so are the skies, threat carried by long-distance drones buzzing overhead along with the occasional aerodyne. The airspace over the city is much more trafficked than over the water, white illuminated lanes marking routes in three-dimensional space.

You're waiting for your nightmare to come true, you think–a second waking experience to make your paranoia permanent.

But no one is coming for you, yet.

They won't know you're missing for a few days, assuming you were in your personal cryochamber undergoing the latest resurfacing procedure on your scar tissue. Garam had been kind enough to take your place; just one of many arrangements for your long-planned flight.

You weren't running towards Neo Seoul, of course. There was nowhere to hide from the clancorps there, no matter how good your new identity was crafted.

No, your path leads East towards the darkness of the Wild, past the industrial parks and factory ships to where the old rivers meet in mudflats and estuaries few have settled in.

And beyond that, to the decimated Old Zones, where the War's aftereffects remain in radiation hotspots and unexploded ordnance. The contamination fromcarpet bombing is the worst risk your kind can face there, unable to stop hybrid DNA from manifesting, sometimes irreversibly.

To most it's a hell better left avoided. But to you, it's your real home.

Boom.

Another AV breaks through the low hanging marine layer so close you can feel the heat from its fission engines as you flatten on the deck. You duck to hide behind one of the many cargo boxes, heart racing, but the aircraft idles on at a lower altitude in the direction of Old Seoul, matte black against the green-tinged Dome.

"Watch it, asshole," you hear someone shout from the aft deck.

You're gently pulled up from the slippery wood by another of the crew. Your breath catches in your throat, face going hot under the scarf wrapped around it.

Ever since the rendezvous point you'd kept a polite distance from this Alpha, quiet in his company. Now his hand is wrapped under your elbow and all you can think of is how much bigger he is than when you'd last seen him in the Dome.

Jeong Yunho, the target of your childhood affection, now your human trafficker.

Fate always had a funny sense of humor with you.

"Careful," he says. You quiver under his gaze, trying not to react too obviously. He has a polite kindness to his mannerisms that seems antithetical to your memory of him laying out two adult guards of a Choi heir during a sanctioned duel.

Still the same gentle face and eyes.

You're not sure if he's this pack's prime, but surely Yunho is in charge of this mission. He'd introduced himself at your rendezvous with no attempt to hide his celebrity. There'd even seemed to be the subtle implication that you should recognize him as a Lost Prince.

It had taken all of your skill in presence and manners to deny him that.

There was no way he could recognize you in turn. You'd been hidden behind veils and screens your entire life, kept a safe distance away from your cohort. Few had scented you and even if the suppression of the Dome did not apply here you had medical means, aided by the neutralizing odor of the sea.

It's too bad that isn't all you hide. You feel the breeze in your fur and panic.

Yunho clears his throat as you lift your hood back up, quickly but not quickly enough to hide the red-and-black ears tufting from your hair.

"Are those . . .?"

"Biomods. A debut gift." Your carefully practiced explanation sounds false, said so rushedly. You glance up to see him nod, cheek indented as he chews a pink lip.

"Fox," he affirms. "Unusual color."

"Calico." You explain, face kept smooth by years of practice. "All the rage right now with the lesser branches."

To your relief he quickly changes the subject, watching you discard your gloves in your pocket–now smelling vaguely of fish guts. You weren't typically boatsick, but the higher doses of suppressants had a nauseating effect.

"You'll have to tell me what it's like on the inside. Haven't been back since . . . well, you know."

"Are you an Abdicated?" you ask, feigning surprise.

"Yes," he says with an edge of humor.

"I didn't know you were a Lee."

"Mother's side," he shrugs, lying in turn.

You know better. Like many of the other Lost Princes he'd publicly expressed his distaste with the outdated system, choosing exile from Old Seoul rather than compete in the political theater and power plays required for succession.

A choice you'd never been offered, but were making all the same.

You'd been present at Inner Court for his formal renunciation, had even cried silently under your veil with the patheticness of a child losing their favorite toy. In this case, your favorite potential mate. It didn't matter that he'd never spoken to you.

"You're lucky then. You could leave," you say.

He smiles. It doesn't extend to his eyes, giving his soft face a hardness.

"Why don't we go inside the cabin. Get you out of this wind."

You let him lead you, his large hand remaining on your jacketed arm as he cages you from behind. It takes concentration to bring the alarm singing in your head down to background noise. Strategy is your fallback; you remind yourself that there's no incentive for him to return you even if he finds you out.

You pass the wheelhouse, Yunho nodding to the smaller man at the helm. He's barely visible in the low light of the digital console and sonar screen but you quickly recognize Kang Yeosang. Another of Yunho's cohort from the Royal Academy, along with Jeong Wooyoung.

You can't help but wonder what other strays he's collected. They were always bound to be a pack, and you'd secretly fantasized about being chosen by them. How silly to think of, now.

You’re shepherded into the cluttered but cozy interior of the fishing boat. Spare tech is piled up between floats and crustacean traps, a single table and bunks filling most of the space.

By the looks of it the craft is probably used for illegal salvage more than honest work, but at least it seems safe. There's a space heater and an electric appliance station which spits out lukewarm, powdery tea when Yunho jams his finger against the display enough times.

"Sorry we can't afford better hospitality," Yunho says.

You sip at your insulated mug, cringing at the bitter taste but not the warmth that spreads through you.

"I'm–my family is paying for discretion, not luxury," you answer politely. "As long as you can get me to District Nine, I have no complaints."

"Right," Yunho props up his legs on one of the fixed chairs, still bundled tight in his peacoat. "Care to enlighten me why we're headed out there?"

You sink under the Prince's gaze, deliberating on what to tell him. You settle for the truth. "I'm looking for my brother."

He sits up, booted feet thudding to the floor as he leans forward in curiosity.

"In District Nine?" Yunho's head is cocked to the side, a sight that would make you smile under any other circumstances. His underlying scent is subtle, clean–pleasing in the way Canids always are to you.

"He left the Dome a long time ago," you say. "That's the last place we heard he'd been spotted."

Yunho was always such a calm and reserved Alpha when you were younger–a rarity, attributable to the use of domesticated canine genetics by his clan. He's uneasy and fidgety now, slender fingers drumming on the plastic tabletop.

"Is he designated?"

The question is inevitable. You'd lied about your own status, buried in a massive dosage of suppressants that made you weak and tired and sick but at least kept your true nature locked away.

"Yes," you say. "Never in line for succession, of course. But he left to join a free pack. Like you, I suppose?"

"I see," he says. "Do you know which one? We might be able to help–"

You shake your head, politely. "No. I'm not worried. Once I'm there, I will find him."

You quickly pretend to be interested in the news, with the tiniest flicker of dread that you'll see your face revealed to the world along with your escape.

Of course that's impossible–they'd kept you hidden since you were thirteen. If not for the scars than for your comms-team-constructed persona of chastity, purity, piety and of course, mourning.

No, the only imagery of you that exists are the traditional portrait commissions circulated amongst the Syndicate for approval of your future marriage contract. As soon as the bells rung to indicate the three years allotted to mourn the Imperatrix were over, the official succession vote would take place, the harem arranged well in advance.

102 days from now, you think.

There's no audio coming from the Betafax feed on the wall monitors but captions in five languages are displayed over footage of a firefight on one of the main air lanes, already suppressed by NSMR forces. Other scrolls and alerts notify of dangers in various districts, spot-hired security and armed triage teams responding while media hounds vie for live, up close coverage.

"Is it always like that out here?" you ask. Your exposure has been entirely through Betafax news feeds, typically scrubbed by Imperial censors. Occasionally a flash of the violence would make it through.

"The war didn't end out here," he remarks, laughing when he sees your expression twist a bit. "Well, not in there, either, but at least there's no lethal weapons allowed."

"They'll just kill you with words," you agree.

Yunho nods sympathetically.

"Are you hungry?" he asks. "We don't have much but–"

"I could hear her stomach growling over the engine." Someone says behind you. You turn with composure only to gag, hand flying to your face.

You smell the catch before you see it, a plastic bucket of crabs and a still limply flopping fish dropped on the table beside you. For a moment you think you can fight the involuntary nausea but in a second you've rushed past them and out the plastic sheeting over the door, retching up the meager contents of your stomach into the water below.

"You couldn't clean those outside?" Yunho asks. "Conversation was too interesting," the other man responds acerbically. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

You're surprised more by the hand on your back than the intimate term, acid-burned nostrils overwhelmed with the telltale musk of another fox.

It would be a relief, but you know better than to trust the creature patting at you like your kin.

Wooyoung, just as notorious. Discriminated against like you, for similar but separate reasons. He's only a little taller than you, sharp eyes narrowed in the blue glow of a nearby port.

"Seasick, huh?" He cackles, somehow not unkindly.

"Yeah." You nod, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. "Ever since I was a kid."

He swipes a hand over his black ears, looking bashful. "You alright with a seafood dinner?"

Your continued retching is enough of an answer.

Wooyoung cooks a different kind of stew–rehydrating strips of artificial meat in a broth that tastes nothing like you've had before, mixed with root vegetables. With the added flavor of freedom, you feel like it might be the best meal you've ever had.

Thankfully the boat ride is swift, adrenaline pumping through your system well after the shoreline begins to darken. Lights dwindle where the old river-running highways appear, whole sections obliterated by a century of disaster. You know autocars and AVs can still come out here but they don't—not with the fears of automated turrets.

According to what your mother had told you growing up in the Wild, most of the stories about what lay beyond was myth. The bigger threat was being tracked going out without clearance, strictly penalized by the Syndicate.

It adds a feeling of finality to your journey as you reach a lone dock in the neverending swamp.

The antique light post at its head contrasts with the cool headlights of an old ground vehicle, military grade and scarred by shrapnel.

Four other men wait on the shore, signaling with a hend-held LED in a code you don't understand. What you can read when you disembark is that one of the men is pointing a heavily tricked gun at you, its carbon shell glowing red when it lifts to your face.

"Welcome," the stranger says, voice a rasp.

You freeze, rucksack dropping to the planks with a thud.

"That's unnecessary, Captain." Yunho says behind you. "We checked her back at the Old Wall."

"I'll decide what's necessary." The leader says. He gestures to the shadow beside him. "Let's have a look."

The light is lifted over you, blinding you between glimpses of a cold face and cat-like eyes. This one is a Felid, claws scraping over your scalp as they rip the hood from your head.

You figure this half of the crew must have been in the Wild longer–affected by jimseung on a noticeable level.

"The color profile matches." The Felid's voice is deeper than you expected. Your scarf is removed next, and you see the silhouette of an angled head as he inspects the faint mesh of scars leading down your jaw to your neck.

"Interesting," the Captain remarks.

The Felid is gentler when he reaches for your coat, black-tipped fingers splaying in front of your face to show his claws are retracted before he reaches down to lift the long trench.

"Check her a little more thoroughly," The Captain says. Behind him, someone laughs.

You whip around to look at Yunho, suddenly desperate. "What is the meaning of this treatment? Didn't you tell them I was clear?"

He shakes his head, breeze ruffling the dark hair across his forehead, and that's when you understand which emotion is coloring his expression: pity.

"You knew?"

You understood it would only be a matter of time before they found out but you'd hoped it would be after you were well on your way.

Not from the start.

"They sell cheap knock-offs of your scent profile in department stores," Wooyoung says lightly, approaching with a slinking posture. "Popular among the omega proxies, of course."

He snatches your bag away, earning your snarl. The Captain chuckles behind you as the fox proceeds to rummage through your clothing for valuables.

"Your blockers are good," Yunho says. "But not that good."

You'd once collected his pictures and planned in detail the words you'd say during ritual courtship. You regret it. The illusion is shattered with his next words.

"Show us, please," he says, in the tell-tale rumble of an order.

The Alpha's compulsion is immediate, your only form of control or choice in how you do what you're bidden. You hold him with your glare as you reach down to unstrap the appendage from the back of your leg, pulling it out of your coat where they can all see it, black and silver-tipped and half your body length.

Unlike a biomod your tail has a mind of its own, signaling your very real aggression by twitching out of your grasp. Your breath steams in the light as your energy spikes, the tickle of fur threatening to grow out of you as you round on the men behind you.

"Like what you see?" you growl.

The gun-wielding Captain lowers his aim, laughing with a manic energy.

"Oh that's rich. A few dozen prized omega females in all of Old Seoul and we're hitched with the only one the Syndicate would trade them all for."

"Your final payment won't be transferred until I'm–" you begin.

"You have more money than the Syndicate? Doubtful," the Captain says. He has a devilish expression. "Luckily for you we have a strict policy on taking jobs from those bastards."

"We're not going to send you back," Yunho echoes.

You relax a bit, pulse still thudding in your ears.

"I don't understand." Mingi steps forward, crouching down to scent the top of your head. You think he's probably been fighting the instinct since the boat. "Who is she?"

"A Queen." Wooyoung answers, zipping the bag up. He returns it to your feet, tentatively, moving to touch your tail when you don't snap at him. You're not surprised when he buries his face in it, shoulders relaxing in pleasure.

"Nothing like it in the world."

You see Yunho reach out to place a hand on Yeosang's shoulder, stopping him from moving any closer.

It was convenient that your pheromones had a soporific effect, less so that they tended to draw other designated like an invisible string tugging at their animal brains.

"She's just a Princess Consort." Yunho says. "For now. You’re standing in front of the future Imperatrix of New Goryeo, Daughter of Heaven and the East Sea, the Lotus Princess Lee ____."

You shudder at the sound of the official title. Every word of it was anathema to you.

"A royal pain in the ass," the Captain jokes. "But a valuable one."

"So what?" you ask, ignoring the effect you're having on his hounds. "Ransom me to the Syndicate? You might as well kill me."

"Halatus has a reputation to maintain." The Felid answers before anyone else, tugging Wooyoung off of you with a distinct look of disgust on his handsome features.

"That's right," the Captain continues, stepping forward to snatch the necklace from your neck before you can respond. Yunho has to grab you from behind, ordering you to stop before you can rip at any skin you can reach with your bared, partially-transformed teeth.

"There's still some honor amongst thieves and liars, after all," he says, inspecting the thick metal chain and the tiny gems inlaid in the links, your mother's last gift to you.

"We'll take you to the end of the line. And you’ll pay extra, with insurance. Princess."

[previous] [next]

#agtbtb #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fic #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 omegaverse #nct 127 cyberpunk au #nct 127 imagines #nct fic #nct imagines

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sainadazai · 1 year

Note

d7 and e6 with akutagawa?

(if you don't write for him can you do chuuya?)

Breath Play + Dom/Sub with Akutagawa

Warnings ⚠️ Foul language, sexual themes, dom/sub dynamics, choking, akutagawa being sassy and mean!!

Working for the port mafia has always been a job of convenience. There was no desire on your part to do the job other than to get paid, no passion behind your position, no alterior motive. However, as you grew and climbed the ranks of the port mafia you soon learned that times change.

What was once a daily ruitine, a nuisance, was now the highlight of your morning.

You wake up, dress up in casual black pants and a black shirt alike, you get your morning coffee and you head to work for your assignment, but, recently someone new has been in the office waiting for you. Someone you practically pray to see each day.

"Good morning Akutagawa, sir." His eyes peeking up from the coffee he was stirring and for a Meer moment brighten with interest. The assassin.

See, he has notably began to desire seeing you each day as well. The way you smile cutely when you come in to say goodmorning, how your gaze frequently lingers on his long fingers and drops subtly to his legs when you notice how he spreads them in his chair.

He could just eat you up, and it excites him so. Ever since becoming a person of higher power among those in the mafia, he hasn't quite been able to tame his need to boss people around. To be mean.

And oh, it's so cute when he is mean to you.

You never take it too personal, the work isn't why you come here anymore. It's him. And to watch his face scrunched up in disgust as you overshare about a recent killing, to see his eyes darken with some emotion you can't quite place whenever you confess you've made a mistake. It soils your panties and you can't get enough.

And so today, you come in again, after being assigned to an assassination of a man who was unfortunately at your favorite coffee shop. And I mean, it's not like you could risk not getting coffee tomorrow so you decided the kill could wait. He didn't need to die today, it wasn't urgent.

Or so you thought.

Akutagawa didn't take so kindly to this news.

"You think your so safe just cause you walk around all pretty and sweet, don't you?" He hisses through a clenched jaw as you are trapped between his slim form and the wall.

Despite his thin build he dwarfs you, making you shrink further in your stance.

A hand flies to your throat before you can respond and what you don't expect is that next a sensation of pain arises from your now bare shoulder. He bit you. Another thing you aren't quite prepared for is the all but needy whine you let out at the feeling.

And you're soaked. You can't lie and say you've never dreamt of something like this, getting him mad enough to hurt you. It's not even out of lust per se. It's an infatuation that goes beyond surface level. You want to know what fuels that fire in his eyes. What makes this man so mean, so angry, so sexy.

"Oh? I see, you've done this on purpose." A smirk pulls at his lips. His eyes tracing the mark he's now left on you, a sense of pride welling in his chest. You are someone he can control, he can bully into submission. You take him seriously.

"No, akutagawa, sir, i would never." And he almost hisses at the sly glint in your eyes. You wanted this. You were testing and teasing him and he knew just how to fix it.

The hand around your throat tightened and began to lift you higher against the wall. A light feeling overwhelmed your senses as you lacked oxygen but it made the sensation of his touch so much more intense.

"What a silly little girl. Hmm? Thinking her boss isnt going to punish her?" His hand loosens for a second, he wants you conscious.

After a deep inhale though, he is squeezing again, not missing the way your eyes roll back and your thighs clench together.

"I see," he forces a knee between them, licking his lips as you roll your hips down onto him.

"Sir." It's a meer whisper yet it has him growing painfully stiff.

"You want me to fuck you." A devilish smirk overtakes him and he's moving to begin ripping you to shreds.

#anime #bsd smut #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa smut #dazai smut #bsd anime #akutagawa fluff #akutagawa headcanons

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sio-writes · 2 years

Text

Best Shot - Oneshot, 6k words

NB!Lizardfolk Alien and NB!Reader - Technically SFW but past NSFW is referenced and heavily implied/glossed over. Additional tags include general hurt/comfort, implied D/S dynamics, and child-rearing anxiety (although no one is pregnant.) If you’d like me to add any tags please feel free to message me, and happy reading!

***

Vek pulls you aside into an empty hallway, face pinched and uncomfortable. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It's not like your shipmate to make a personal call. Last time they pulled you aside like this you wound up on your knees in the supply closet, but the fact that they're checking over their shoulder and down the hall, no supply closets in sight? It must be serious.

Their shoulders are hunched, their normally deep green skin has turned sallow with worry, and the mohawk-like crest on their head is pushed back into their spine. Normally, you'd poke fun at their dejected state, ask who kicked them out of bed or something equally as juvenile. But they called on you, so you must be trustworthy enough to confide in. "Sure. What's up?"

They swallow hard and look away, towards the ground in a display of shyness you'd never seen on them before. Their face darkens to a deep purple, a color you faintly recognize as embarrassment, but have never seen on them before. "I require…your body heat."

You choke out a laugh before you can stop it, and their golden eyes snap to yours, sharp and narrowed to slits. They're not kidding.

You school your expression into one of neutrality. "That's an odd way to ask for Round Two."

They grumble, "Three, technically. But it does relate."

You push the joking aside, and lean casually against the wall, arms folded. "What is it?"

They clear their throat, gathering themselves. "After our, what did you call it, a trust?"

"Tryst," you laugh.

"Yes, that. I thought I had taken my ovulation blockers, but apparently I did not, so I began my heat cycle shortly afterwards and that's when I began panicking, and--" their eyes go wide and their face turns a deeper shade of purple before they wave a dismissive hand. "Regardless. It is my fault, but I require your assistance."

Your smile drops, and your arms fall to your sides. You have a feeling what the answer will be, but you still ask, "What is?"

Vek fishes something out of their pocket, and for one terrifying moment you think it's a bomb, and then you kind of wish it was. At first glance it looks like a disco ball, a spherical capsule the size of an apple, off white in color. You lean down to inspect the sphere, and Vek growls and jerks it back away from you. The movement is so sudden and full of emotion you're momentarily stunned, but their expression falls the moment you make eye contact, and they sheepishly offer it to you again.

"Oh shit."

Inside are dozens of translucent eggs each the size of a large coin, with squirming little Eilki embryos inside. Vek says nothing in response, their stony silence only broadcasting their shared powerlessness with the situation.

You're barely the age your parents were when they had you--and that was a clusterfuck of epic proportions. You can barely remember to drink enough water, let alone keep track of something else that also needs water. Wait, did Eilki babies need water? Did they need to stay wet like fish eggs? You feel yourself on the verge of becoming hysterical, so you run your hands over your hair a few times, finding it grounding in the slight pull on your scalp.

"So." You laugh shakily and fall back against the wall. "We're parents, huh?"

Your first instinct is to take the thing and chuck it out of the air-lock, but that's a lot of paperwork, and a lot of mortifying explanations. Plus with the way Vek grabbed it away just now, you wouldn't get very far before being eviscerated.

"I've already alerted the Captain," Vek says. "I am disembarking at the next port."

Your stomach drops. "You're…you're leaving?"

They furrow their large brow in confusion. "I sent out a ping for potential host families and got an immediate reply." They pause, studying you with those slitted pupils, then their face lights up in understanding. "Ah, I forgot you humans raise young for an exorbitantly long time." They puff out their chest as if proud. "After hatching we are self-sufficient after a turn of the planet, but incubation before that takes about 45 days. The trade-off with the host family is that I see to the first part since they cannot." Vek looks down as the capsule, turning it gently in their clawed hands. "Which is why I came to you. I cannot produce the necessary body heat. Humans can, and you are the one that I'm-- ahem-- closest to, and so the only one I could ask."

The smile you give them is childish. "You want me to sit on it."

They roll their eyes, the black slitted pupils disappearing behind their lids. "No. Normally we leave them in the daylight and then conserve heat by curling around them at night, but," they look out the window closest to the two of you, expression forlorn. "It is only truly night time here."

You want to point out that there's dozens of heat lamps close to the kitchens, but you're struck by something Vek said after you hooked up. You'd made some gripe or another about them being clingy, and they had a whole speech prepared on the sanctity of sharing body heat. Their culture likened it to a consummation, equivalent to sex itself, how whole clans were connected on that one facet alone, and suddenly the Eilki's propensity for orgies made a whole lot more sense to you. You'd even asked Vek why they don't just lay under one of the heating lamps that the other eilki do, and they scoffed, almost disgusted you'd even suggested it, and then said, "Your warmth is leagues better."

Vek turns the capsule in their hands again. "If you could take care of this, at least during the daily routines, and I would take it at night. That is all I ask."

Their face shifts into a bright shade of yellow, some emotion in them you don't recognize, as their gaze falls to the side. You've never seen them this awkward before, they're normally such a commanding presence. Just this morning they were barking orders and shouting at you to keep to schedule.

But, looking down at the capsule, so tiny in Vek's hands, you realize that this is your problem too. At least, for the next month or so. And you're nothing but an engineer of honor. Leaving Vek out to dry would be so shitty, and although you're sure they could handle it--a two meter high lizard could handle most things--but it wouldn't be right. So you sigh through your nose, push past the spear of anxiety lancing through your gut, and carefully pick up the capsule like it's made of spun glass. You're a temporary parent now, suck it up. "What do I need to do?"

Vek's eyes light up. "How deep are your pockets?"

***

You're elbow deep in the ship's oil reserves, feeling around with your bare hands for the ferrofluid block that keeps escaping your grasp because it's such a shitty feature that--there! Yanking the slippery bastard out of the tank flings your arm in a wide arc, spraying oil over the walls, but you can clean it later because it worked, baby! Since you're the only one in the secondary engine stores you do a little dance to imaginary music to celebrate your victory. Or at least, you think you're alone until you turn to see Vek, covered in a splash of dark brown oil and looking, well, more pissed than usual.

Vek is alone, which is weird because they usually have no less than ten other crew members by their side at all times. They must have come down to talk to you, and gotten caught in the cross-fire.

"Whoops," you laugh, leaning against the slowly draining tank of oil. "Sorry 'bout that."

Vek stomps up to you, tongue flicking out angrily and their eyes bright enough to start a fire. Grabbing your wrist, currently covered in oil and therefore coating their hand in it, they pull your arm so their furious face winds up an inch from yours. "What are you doing?!"

Sarcastically, you stroke their face with your free hand, smearing oil across their skin. "I'm doing my job, lieutenant."

Their face shifts into deep blue--rage--and they grip your wrist tighter. "You think this is a game?!"

You shoot them a finger-gun. "Life's a game, darlin'."

Somehow their expression intensifies. This is the talk that got you a reprimand, but it's also the talk that got Vek in that supply closet. Vek's hot when they're mad, all authoritative and commanding but in the best way. You kind of want to make the floor dirtier than it already is. You run a blackened finger over the lapel of Vek's jacket, and they rear back, nostrils flaring.

"Are you serious right now? You have bigger things to worry about, so to be so careless with--" They gesture to the front pocket of your overalls where you tucked the capsule, and their anger makes sense to you.

You arch an eyebrow. "Chill out. It's buttoned up and safe."

They scoff rolling their eyes condescendingly. "Buttoned up, oh that's lovely."

"It's fine!"

"No thanks to you!"

"I can clean it off for you if you want!"

They release your wrist to throw their arms in the air. "That's not the point!"

"What, you think I should give it to someone else?"

"No!"

"Do you wanna take it?!"

"I! Can't! I need you to keep them alive!"

You roll your eyes and drone sarcastically, "Wow, you really care about me."

"You fuck up your own life perfectly well, but to drag another into it--"

"Another like you?!"

Vek stops halfway, eyes wide, mouth parted. Like you've shocked the words from their mouth. But you don't have time for this bullshit. They said what they needed to say, and you're done.

"That's what I thought." You shove past them, not caring that you're tracking black into the hall towards the locker rooms.

You're afforded a dozen or so steps before Vek's voice rings out behind you, "Wait!"

You keep walking.

"I didn't mean it like--"

"Don't you fucking dare!"

You slam the door to the locker room, leaning your weight against it in case Vek tries to bust their way in. After a moment though you don't even hear footsteps, so you release the door and start to rip off your work boots. You can't tell if you're disappointed that Vek didn't try to break the door down, or angry they left you alone to deal with this. They always see things through to the end, and leaving you alone and gross has you feeling hollow.

Whatever. You need to get this oil off before it stains your skin.

The locker rooms are like any other, if everything was rendered in chrome. The shower squeaks on like every other shower you've been in, and it takes no time at all to start steaming. You pull the capsule out of your overalls, glaring at your warped reflection as you wait for the urge to smash it to come, but it doesn't. These little shits didn't do anything wrong, except maybe rattle around your chest while you worked. Annoying, but not guilty. There's only one guilty party in this room.

The capsule is spotless, just like you thought, and you decide to let it get some extra heat by setting it on the shelf inside the shower.

The nice thing about chrome is that it's easy to clean, so you feel zero guilt as you let your dirty overalls fall to the floor alongside the rest of your clothes. The locker rooms have spare bathrobes anyway, so you can run by your office and grab clean clothes later. The second the hot water hits your skin you groan, the tension leaving your muscles almost instantly.

You're watching the oil swirl down the drain, wondering if that's going to come back and bite you later, when you hear the door swing open and closed.

You hear the slow, lumbering steps of a predator, stopping just outside the shower curtain. And only half of you wishes they'd leave. You keep your gaze on the wall opposite the shower curtain, where it eventually falls on the capsule. The inside has fogged up, but you can see the little embryos inside are moving, like they're happy-dancing. Vek had mentioned they have a high tolerance for heat, so you grab the capsule and bring it under the water you set to nearly scalding. They're not so bad, these little dudes, they're kinda funny to watch actually. Feeling them in your pocket the past few days has turned into a comfort.

Behind you, Vek inhales like they're about to start speaking, but you cut them off.

"I'm not talking to you," you say to the wall.

Then Vek sighs, a long, sad hissing noise that matches the tone of the shower faucet. "Then I will speak to myself, then."

More rustling, and you chance a glance backwards to see that their shadow has moved from in front of the curtain to sitting on the floor beside the stall.

They growl, a short, low note in their throat. "I don't understand why you--" they pause for a deep breath, then another that turns into a heavy sigh. "I don't think you fucked up my life. I did. And I dragged you into it."

Vek has never admitted to any wrongdoing, ever. They'd rather argue to the end and get the last word than apologize. But then again, you're known for doing the same.

You grimace. Son of a bitch. "It takes two to tango, I guess."

They breathe out a laugh, and you imagine them crossing their arms. "I don't know what that means, but if you're admitting fault, I will say you're the seductive one."

You balk, indignant. "Me?? Who came up to me in the middle of the mess hall asking to bone?"

"I did not 'ask to bone'."

"Oh, my bad, you just waltzed up, right in the middle of my salad, and angrily asked to see me in the meeting room."

"The meeting room where you humiliated me."

You bark a laugh. "Where I called you out on your bullshit!"

"In front of all my colleagues and friends."

"What friends?"

Vek laughs, something you've only heard a handful of times, and it's an infectious noise so you start to laugh with them. The world feels right again, something's slotted back into place. You want this to work between them, so badly, but you never knew how.

The silence is heavy, until Vek asks, "May I come in?"

You roll your eyes, but there's a smile behind it. "If you must."

You listen to the shuffling of clothes outside, and step to the side to give Vek room as they step in. They're so large they take up nearly the whole stall, and you sigh out as they wrap their strong arms around your middle.

"I should have trusted you."

"Yeah."

"But please understand my worry."

"I'm sorry." You turn in their arms, holding up the capsule between you. "You really like these little guys, don't you?"

"They are a part of us," they say, voice pitched low. "Of course I do."

"And you think I'm the seductive one?"

Vek nuzzles your shoulder, tracing their snout up your cheek. "You are."

With a sigh, you twist back around and lean into their chest. "I'm still mad at you."

Their voice is even lower when they say, "Allow me to make it up to you."

You fake gasp. "In front of the children?"

"They don't have eyes yet."

***

For the third time in as many hours, you look over from your bed, concern making your eyebrows draw together. Through the darkness you can make out Vek on their own bed, curled around a bundle of blankets. Their long tail wraps all the way to their head, and faint green light pulses gently from their brow, marking patterns that split like veins over their rough skin. They all converge to a single point at the end of their tail before starting again at their brow, continuing endlessly in a protective circle. You've only seen Vek glow when they're sleeping, but it's never been this vibrant. It's mesmerizing, and you don't want it to stop, but you need to wake Vek up to take the eggs from them, to give them some warmth that you couldn't provide that day.

You'd been working on the ship's flight navigation motherboard, a gargantuan piece of machinery that liked to spit out heat. Normally that'd be great for keeping eggs warm, except command decided to shut off the ship while you worked, and installed a bunch of cooling fans to make the whole area feel like ice. You busted out your jacket despite the sweat rolling down your face, and the whole time you'd been worried about those damned eggs. How long could they go without heat? Vek could withstand temperatures any human could, but they always needed to warm up or risk freezing. Were the eggs the same?

After you'd told Vek how cold the motherboard had been, they merely shrugged and gave you this defeated expression before taking the capsule and muttering, "We can only see how they fare in the morning." Because they don't ask you to care after the day is over.

And now you can't sleep. Not knowing they're cold. Both of them, because holy shit this room is freezing.

You swing your legs off the bed and pull the blanket over your shoulders. The only sound is the hum of the oxygen circulator and your bare feet against the floor. You step your way over discarded pieces of clothing and the general debris that comes with living in quarters the size of a college dorm room.

You stop in front of Vek, your nerves making your muscles seize up, which they shouldn't. The two of you have shared this room for nearly a year. You'd seen all you needed to see and more. So why are you stopping now? Maybe it's the eggs, maybe it's something else. Vek has been softer the past few weeks and you don't know how to proceed. They've been shouting less, been helpful, you even heard them offering gentle advice to a crewmember. It's a welcome change, no one is having anxiety attacks at seeing them anymore, but it's still weird. An adjustment.

And this…thing between you two has evolved. It used to just be the occasional glance and a nod--a habit they picked up from you, they've said. You expected yelling across the room, orders commanded from a place of authority. Curt politeness at best. Distance. It was easy. But then they started sitting with you in the mess hall, or speaking to you about inane things on the bridge, standing just too close to you like a foreboding shadow and giving any overly-friendly crewmember a narrowed gaze. The whole ship thinks you're a couple now, and you're overrun with knowing glances every time Vek pulls you aside to demand an update on your well-being. They're less pushy, like they've calmed down.

And having Vek, strong, capable Vek, carefully wielding their power instead of throwing it around is a heady feeling, one you're quickly growing addicted to. They don't grip your arm to lead you, but apply a firm hand to your lower back. They don't outright demand you speak to them, but their steady gold eyes tell you there's no room for argument. They gently run their hand over your hair before guiding you down to their groin and keeping you there.

You're used to the hard and fast, action first questions later kind of interactions. Even before Vek, it was heat, fire, quick fumbling and then it's over. This considerate, gentle firmness they've been offering has your brain short circuiting. The heat is still there, but it radiates through you, a fission reaction through your bones that leaves marks, leaves you wanting it again and again.

But those are specific situations. Certain social rules. It may not apply in the dead of night in your shared quarters.

You shake your head to yourself and turn away from Vek's sleeping form--it's too familiar, too intimate. You didn't even cuddle that long the first time, it shouldn't be any different now. If those eggs die, ot's not your fault.

You're barely a step away when the blanket pulls around your shoulders. You whip your head around and Vek has a single claw hooked in the corner. Golden eyes glow in the dark as the green fades away. They blink at you slowly, like some kind of predator, and their voice is pitched low with sleep, "Where are you going?"

"I…" you start, hoping for an excuse to come to you, but you glance to the blanket instead, and Vek follows your eyes. You feel foolish. For gods' sake you had sex, and you're getting cold feet over some potentially necessary cuddling.

Vek shifts in the bed, gently pulling the blanket again. "Lay with me. Clothes on this time." You see the flash of teeth in the dark, an offering of a smile.

Again, you feel like a fool. Caught, vulnerable and wanting for something other than sexual gratification. That's what fools want.

"Keep me warm?" Vek asks, more awake yet somehow softer.

They're giving you an out, you realize. Something they've never done before. But…Vek really cares about those eggs. It's really important to them. And Vek, you realize shamefully, is pretty damn important to you.

"Scoot over," you mumble, hoping they can't see well enough in the dark to make out how dark your face is. Maybe the extra heat will help.

It takes a moment of arranging until you're curled around the capsule, and Vek is curled around you. Their scaly skin is cool against yours, even under their massive fluffy blanket, and you're silently thankful that you snuck over for the eggs' sake. Vek is large, curling one strong arm around you and pillowing their head with the other. You're hugging the capsule to your chest, and you feel a bit like a nesting doll, or a perfect little family.

The anxiety you feel around the eggs has lessened over the weeks. You're not so scared you're going to screw something up, not with Vek helping you out at every turn. The little capsule is starting to grow on you, you're glad to see it every morning, you find yourself constantly checking your pocket to make sure it's there. You can handle this. You can be responsible until you hand them off.

Vek tucks your head under the bottom of their snout and their voice reverberates down your back. "I know you didn't ask for this. So again…you have my thanks."

"I mean," you attempt to keep your tone light. "You didn't ask for it either."

"No," they concede. "But I admit I don't mind the idea of having young to look after."

"Isn't that what the interns are for?"

They snicker, the sound coming out like a hiss. They pet your head with one big hand, then return it to your waist. "This is not the line of work to be rearing young, but I am a bit upset to be giving these up."

Your breath catches in your throat, and questions pop like bubbles in your chest. You want to ask why. Why Vek is being so open, why they want to keep these. Why they continue to want your body heat and treat you like you're something precious. But you're afraid of the answer, that you already know it. The other Eilki on the ship, they must be able to smell it on you. The past week you've been met with upturned snouts, but even worse are the understanding glances, the knowing smiles that look horrifying with their jagged teeth. It can't possibly be because of you. You can't keep these, you couldn't handle it.

Vek is stroking your arm with gentle movements, and the emotion that wells up in your chest is too big to name. Your whisper is louder than the oxygen circulator, "I can't be a parent."

Their tongue flicks the top of your head, a gentle caress against your heated skin. "That is alright."

***

You trace your index finger around the edge of one of the eggs, watching the tiny forms move beneath the clear casing. In the light, the eggs are all practically transparent, and you can count the toes of each little eilki--three for the front, four in the back, just like Vek. Seeing it brings tears to your eyes--you can't give them up. The thought of being a full time parent still terrifies you, but these eggs? They've relied on you for a month and a half, they're yours. You dream of they'll look like, green like Vek, or a shade of brown? Their stupid little wiggles, the three sets of twins inside. It's a knife to the gut that you'll never get to find out about any of them, but maybe that's for the best. You fumbled the capsule a few days ago and nearly gave Vek a heart attack. You didn't drop it! But you almost did. Hardly fit for parenting.

The Decanode port is barely that--little more than a worn down metal arm sticking out of a spare moon orbiting a gas giant. You feel tetanus creeping in just looking at it, and this is where you're dropping off the eggs? At this distance, you're beginning to parse out individuals as they mill about the port. There's shops with fabric in muted colors hanging in the doorways, standalone stalls with excitable vendors, and open windows advertising things in so many languages you half expect to see English amongst them. You want to steer the ship as far away as possible.

You frown in displeasure as it zooms into view from the holding deck, and Vek's hand rests heavy on your shoulder. You hadn't even heard them walk up.

"The family doesn't live here. They reside in a binary star system about three light-years off course."

"They're not good enough," you pout, fighting back the burning in your nose that means tears for about the sixth time that day. You shove the capsule into your front pocket. "Do we really need to give them up?"

Vek's brow raises. "You're asking me this now."

"I mean, with so many it'll be hard for a while but we could--"

Vek lifts you off the floor and holds you tightly in their arms, their voice muffled against your shoulder. "We cannot."

You deflate, your weight dragging you down even with your feet several inches off the floor. "Yeah, I know."

This is a scientific vessel, but it's still too dangerous for children, even if they are fully self-sufficient after a year. You sniff into Vek's shoulder, burying your tears into their uniform--crisp and pressed as always.

A few groups of crew pass by as the two of you make zero movements away from each other, but you find you don't care if you make a spectacle. If the crew didn't know why the ship stopping at this shitty port before, the gossip spread fast enough to cover it. You've gotten a few extra sympathetic glances over the week, but mostly everyone is refusing to look at you. Looking at Vek is kind of a requirement of living on the ship, but you're maintenance. Practically invisible.

Their face and neck are flushed a deep green, richer and darker than their usual color. After they set you down, their face falls, pulled down by gravity and something heavier as they look out the viewing window towards the port.

"Let's get ready."

Walking down the ramp to the port feels like a death sentence, until you spot the group of five blue Onens huddled together, waving excitedly at you step onto the port. They're too far away for your translator to pick up specific words, but you can still hear the excitement in their watery language as they talk amongst one another. You switch on the secondary translator at your throat as you approach, offering a hand in greeting, but no smile so you don't scare them with your teeth.

"Thank you for meeting with us."

One of the Onen grabs your hand, their non-Newtonian form first a solid as they squeeze and then a curl of gelatinous goo that settles over your skin. They speak a few words before the translator picks up the rest.

"--a wonderful thing that you give to us, we have raised many of this kind before so don't you worry a bit, they will have all the attention and food they could desire and--"

The Onen is cut off by another of their group, who gestures to their melting hand, currently making its way down your arm. They make a gurgling noise, likely one of surprise, before the whole thing peels off of you with a wet schlocking sound. The previous Onen waves their hand in a gesture of respect, their gaze solid and comforting.

"You are very brave for doing this."

You try not to grimace. Doubt is worming it's way into your mind like a fungus, and you want to step back and away from the group. These aliens raise other young as part of their religion, taking in anything no questions asked. What if there's other species there that these young don't get along with? And not all Onen are altruistic. They could be taking the eggs to eat them for all you know.

But then one of them pulls out a picture communicator, and passes it over the shoulder of the one in front. It works similar to a tablet on the ship, allowing you to swipe through photo after photo of all of them with various hatchlings and young. Every picture oozes happiness, you even catch them sitting in the twin suns with eilki hatchlings. And a big family who could give them the attention they deserve. No egg eating to be found.

Your hand falls over your front pocket where you tucked the capsule, and you force yourself to say, "So how do we, uh, how do we do this?"

One of the Onen turns their liquid eyes to Vek. "They are far enough along, yes?"

Vek speaks up, their voice tight. "They're able to maintain an internal temperature. When they begin to hatch, simply open to capsule."

They nod their head to you, and you pull the capsule out of its hiding place.

"Wonderful!" One of the Onen remarks, hands reaching out to grab it but you hesitate, tucking it into your chest.

"I…" You're stuck, frozen. There has to be something you're missing. But this is the right choice. This is the right choice. You just need to move. "I don't…"

Vek steps into you, allowing you to subtly lean into their weight. They squeeze your shoulder in reassurance. "It's okay."

Slowly, in halting movements, you stretch out your arm like you're waiting for the capsule to explode. Just as slowly, with great care and steady hand, the Onen places their palm underneath as support, and waits patiently for you to finally let go.

Releasing your fingers feels like cracking your bones, but at the same time, as you watch all the Onen's expressions fall to the capsule and soften from simple patience complete and utter awe, the weight that's been hanging over you for so long lifts like a veil from your shoulders. It had you covered like a shroud, fraying your nerves with worry and despair over the unknown. But now you know they're going to be okay, and despite the gnawing hole in your chest, you can finally breathe. The Onen are perfect, you couldn't have chosen better yourself. You fruitlessly wipe at the trail of tears as they profusely thank both of you, and you forget clearing your face altogether when you watch them all walk away. The translator picks up pieces of their conversations--ideas for names, the best food. Those little shits are going to grow up so fuckin' loved.

They round the corner, and you're surrounded by patrons again. Vek pulls you into another bone-crushing hug, their breathing is short and they've turned that dark green all over. They feel solid, stable like always, something you've both needed throughout this whole ordeal.

"This sucks," your voice is muffled by their heavy jacket, but your message comes across all the same.

Vek huffs through their nose. "I know," and their hand falls across your shoulder as you head back to the ship.

***

It's a shitty week all around, between your own head and the ship pretty much falling apart all at once. Vek hadn't been faring much better, dragging their feet and muttering commands like the wind had been sucked from their sails. So you blame your rash decision on emotional turmoil, and pulled them into your room for something quick. But quick turned into desperate and needy, built up tension bleeding out of your every move as Vek fell back into harsher habits.

But a distraction was what you both needed. Your head is more clear, and you've cried enough for the past week. Vek's breathing is even underneath you, finally calm after so many days on edge between hysteria and depression. Their direction was welcome, concrete words for you to follow between bouts of the kindness you'd gotten so used to over the weeks. They'd kissed the claw marks they left on your thighs and your heart melted.

Now your quarters are dark and quiet, trapping you in a liminal space where the outside world doesn't exist anymore. It leaves space for thoughts to flow, emotions on their heels but no longer as big, no longer as unmanageable. A question that had been sitting in the back of your mind makes itself present.

"Would you ever…want to be a parent?"

Vek glances at you sidelong. "I'd rather not go through this whole ordeal again."

"No, I mean…" You waffle for a moment too long. Vek grabs your chin in their hand and forces you to make eye contact. "I guess…"

Their eyes glow against the dark. "Yes?"

"To keep." The rest of the implication is in your voice, you hope.

They release your jaw, turning back and laying flat. Their face shifts into a darker hue--in the low light you can't for sure tell which, but you have a guess they're turning purple. "I understood that you do not want young."

"I mean, not right now. But…maybe someday?"

"Do not compromise yourself for me."

"I'm not." You press your hands flat to their chest. "I always thought I'd be alone. Raising them, I mean. And that would be a disaster. Absolute fuckery of a parent. But with you…I don't think it would be so bad. I'll never want, like, a million of them like we had. But…maybe just one? Someday? I dunno." You fiddle with your hands. "We're…kind of good together."

Vek lays their hands on top of yours, stilling them as they look at you. "You're considering this."

You flush. "I-I'm just talking."

The hands over yours wrap around your fingers, and they flick their tongue to your lips. "You would make a fine parent."

You feel like you're turning purple under their gaze. "In the mean time though…Keep taking those blockers?"

"You tell me when to stop. And if that day never comes, I will simply have you all to myself."

You smile into the hug they offer. "Sounds like a plan."

#my writing #sfw.#alien x reader #alien partner #alien romance #monster fucker #monster romance #exophillia #teratophillia #i hope it's polished enough i really want this to do justice to the concept #i tried to be nuanced in the take and i hope it doesn't just come off as inconsistent #when I say this concept had a chokehold on my brain for the past 48 hours i mean #i was being deprieved of oxygen until i finished it #my entire working title for this was Juno (in space)#that and the tagline i was thinking 'giving them their best shot' was driving me insane #because i KNEW it was FROM SOMETHING but i couldn't think of WHAT #until it clicked and i shouted Out Loud ONCE UPON A TIME #Fantasci

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roseypoetsblog · 1 year

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Hello! You asked for people to send you thought on BSD ships so here I am

Like you, I also lean towards Soukoku the most — I think that there is a certain poetic beauty and tragedy to their dynamic

I often think about they were both kids when they were thrust into a world of violence, and how their abilities are literal reflections of each other’s lives which makes the implication that even Kafka intended for them to be connected by fate (romantically or not) and how Chuuya is not human but is simultaneously the most human person Dazai knows, while Dazai regularly struggles with his own humanity even though he is without a doubt human.

I just think that they have all of these character parallels and that they embody and reflect major characteristics in one another, and I think this is why so many people ship them even though their most prominent scenes haven’t even been drawn or animated. As a pairing, they offer a lot of analyzing potential and as anyone who has ever been involved in fandom knows, we love analyzing lol

Hi! Thank you so much first of all for sharing your thoughts! I do agree there is such a beautiful poetic tragedy to them. I attribute that to the fact they're both so broken and their relationship, although still having that trust, is pretty fractured and painted in violence and tragedy, maybe under different circumstances they would've been able to be together but as of now? No way in hell.

I wonder if Asagiri knew what they were doing when they made their characters such parallels to each other. In every universe we know (which is only two because of Beast) Dazai and Chuuya are somehow connected. In the universe we are most familiar with it's through being partners, in Beast its boss-protector connections. The Port Mafia is bathed in bloodshed, and these two 15 year olds were thrown smack dab in the middle, Chuuya also probably seeing much more bloodshed from the Sheep although as far as I know we never find out what exactly the Sheep did.

The trust we, the viewers/readers, see as the show/manga grow is remarkable. They start out first seeming like divorced couple in my opinions, but through the fight with Lovecraft and the Dead Apple movie/Light Novel we see how much they actually do trust each other. Chuuya trusting Dazai to be alive to cancel out Corruption, and even to just do it anyway. Dazai trusts Chuuya knows his thought process enough to know exactly what to do when he can't be there to explain exactly what to do. Without Chuuya punching him, and without him being alive to cancel out Corruption, they both would've died. They trust each other with the one thing you can't get back when you're gone, your life.

#soukoku #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #dazai x chuuya #skk #soukoku analysis

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natasria · 2 years

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Cutitying my Linux desktop!!!

Haiii lovelieess!! :3

I am just soo obsessed with kawaii aesthethic. I pretty much wanted every pixels of my screen to be a shade of pink, or white!!

I was inspired from Nemui Atelier's post about cutifying her Windows desktop!!! However, I use Linux as my daily driver operating system. I do have Windows installed on my laptop, but I don't usually use it!!

Your Backgrounds

Wallpaper Engine does not run in Linux. I saw some patches from GitHub trying to make it run, however, in this free and open source world of Linux, why not we use a free and open source alternative??

Hidamari to be quite useful for things like this!! You can just install it from Flathub and then you just need to add the GIF or MP4 to the application. It works like a real charm on GNOME!! ✨✨ Best of all, it's free, and it's open source! ✨✨

It has backend for Youtube too! It also has a browser backend, which allows you to connect to a custom webpage if you want something even more dynamic!! Though, I much recommend writing a GNOME extension, or KDE/KWin plugins if you're on KDE, if you would like something like that.

However, it's quite hard to use wallpapers published for Wallpaper Engine!!! Since they're published as Steam workshop files and pressing the "Subscribe" button on the web interface does not download anything, but rather make Steam downloads them when you got the app installed. You'll need to download steamcmd, the command-line client for Steam. It's pretty much a hassle for non-technical users thoughh….

Application Icons

First of all we need to have the cute icon for our app!!

I made this Pinterest-inspired logo edit! It's not that great of design, to be honest, but it's just a demonstration!! The logo is just Firefox but edited to be pinkly monochrome. And I added some temporary placeholder backgrounds taken from Pinterest!!! They're pastel pinkcore-themed too!!

Most applications that you install nowadays are probably Flatpaks. Soo.. they're normally installed to /var/lib/flatpak/exports/share/applications/, but if they're system apps, they're usually available on /usr/local/share/applications/.

Since the Flatpak ID for Firefox is org.mozilla.firefox, we can copy /var/lib/flatpak/exports/share/applications/org.mozilla.firefox.desktop to ~/.local/share/applications

And then we just need to edit it to:

Icon = cute-firefox

Yayyy!! It works!! <3

Cursor theme

Obviously, you can't just use Windows cursor themes on Linux. Linux desktops use a different format than those used by Windows. I'm not going to port any Windows themes today because it's just going to be a long process, but maybe I should do it next time!!!

But maybe you would want thoughh If soo, the KDE userbase does have a guide on making one!!!

I got this Reimu Hakurei cursor theme from OpenDesktop!! It's ported from the original Windows version on Pixiv, and it's great news that it's Touhouuu!!!

Sooo cursor themes in Linux are pretty much the same as icon themes. The difference is that cursor themes just use the cursors folder, of course!!!

So I downloaded the Reimu cursor theme, unpack the zip file, and installed it to ~/.local/share/icons/!! And then I set the cursor theme trough the GNOME Tweaks app!

AAlsoo, don't forget to add the icons folder to Flatseal so that all apps can find the icons!!

Sooo that's my post today!! Thanks for reading!! Byeee!! <3

#kawaii #kawaiisetup #linux

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oodlyenough · 8 months

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aa3 trials and tribulations

alright after dragging my heels to get four months out of a idk 35 hour game i have finished aa3. spoilery thoughts mostly about the last case bc i played the others months ago fjglhgkf

Positive stuff:

FRANZISKA... my mvp... I loved Franziska after aa2 but she was so great here, everything I could've wanted from her lmao. My best worst girl. I LOVED having her hang out with Phoenix fhlgfhgklf incredible, showstopping, spectacular. Their dynamic is sooo much fun and I also really liked seeing her interact with the witnesses outside of the courtroom, and how she tries to establish her authority but uses that authority to try and comfort them, etc -- she gets mad at Phoenix when he isn't complimentary enough of Sister Bikini lol, she takes control of the sacred cavern situation, she bullies Edgeworth into selfcare garden sulking after the earthquake, etc. It was really interesting and kind of sweet, in her way, it was nice to see that side of her. I can easier see how she and Adrian ended up with their weird gay thing although I have to admit Franmaya remains my Franziska ship of choice. (Just yesterday I was telling someone "I want Franziska to show Maya how to use her whip"... so close and yet so far Capcom.)

Defense attorney Edgeworth was awesome what a fun idea, and the Edgeworth/Franziska court battle ruled. I think I talked about it a lot at the time so I won't dwell much but lmao. wonderful. you're both sooooo bonkers

The Fey family drama! Cool af! Love a matriarchal society of women murdering each other. Amazing. I was spoiled for bits and pieces but not for Misty, which was a great surprise, I had expected they'd just leave that thread hanging but resolving it was the correct choice. I also loved that this game gave a bit more of a nod to Mia. I had said in my previous reaction post that I loved Mia having her own lil Moriarty in Dahlia and their showdown was so fun. Get her ass Mia. Pull each other's hair in the afterlife.

The actual plot mystery stuff in this case was great. I was able to do 3-4 and 3-5 without any walkthrough help AND without banging my head into a wall, which really does make it more fun, lol. You feel clever for solving it without feeling like it's being spoonfed. Or at least I didn't feel it was spoonfed :P and I guessed wrong about some things.

I loved Dahlia LMAO she was fr on the stand like "Your honour I was born evil and I died evil and I'm still evil now. Peace". I sort of expected she'd have mixed emotions at least about Iris but uh nope. Choose a way to born: Evil Baby. You could probably say something about AA returning to these cartoonishly evil villains to smooth over any of the ethical quandaries probably but tbh for the most part I just find it fun. Whatever. Cant a girl have hobbies (poisoning, failure).

Less positive stuff:

I was surprised and disappointed to not get a send-off epilogue screen for Edgeworth or Franziska 😔 they just kind of disappeared in the back end of the case, and while I don't have an issue focusing on the Feys in the end, the Edgeworth/Franziska stuff felt a bit unresolved to me, to not even get a few lines when Oldbag and Larry do. I guess Capcom wants me to play AAI (... sort of. not enough to port it or translate it :P).

Two finale cases in a row shelved Maya for a considerable portion. She got much more to do here, in the end -- her as Nick's last witness was very good, and obv she's central to the whole case -- than in 2-4, but I still felt her absence.

And I do wish we'd gotten to see more of Edgeworth and Phoenix interacting - they're sort if implied to be spending time off screen but I would like to see it.jpeg, I thought he was gonna be a more active part of the case after trial day 1. Since AA1 it often feels like the game is juggling characters so I can have like, one fave with me at a time but not more lol. Rude.

The Iris/Phoenix stuff was 🙄 I realize it's futile to be mad about like, token heterosexuality in a 20+ year old video game, but 🙄 lol. Also naturally I spent most of the game believing Dahlia had grudgingly put up with Feenie while dreaming of murder for 8 months and that's so much funnier than the truth turned out to be, lmao. Her eternal torment.

I couldn't stand Godot lmao I didn't like him at the start of the game and by the end I hated him. His gimmick was boring to me at best, I found him deeply condescending and sexist in the case with Mia, and then obviously 3-5 just sent all of that overdrive. The upswing was that he was the killer so that was satisfying for me lmfao. Throw the book at him judge.

Overall:

I see why this is often called the best game. The overarching stories all tied together well, I can see how the cases of the week led into the finale even if I hated one of em (mask de masque do NOT interact), the puzzles are good while being solvable, and there are some really really great fun moments of character stuff in here for almost everyone.

Having said that, I think the first game is still my fave. Its comparatively limited scope meant each major character got their moment, Maya and Edgeworth are my besties and it's the only time I actually got to have both of them around at the same time. And Turnabout Goodbyes is just so good and so is Rise from the Ashes.

I'm sad the trilogy is over 😔 while I wait for 4-6 to get ported I'll play TGAA and AAI, but not sure in which order, and in either case I'm gonna miss my best friend Phoenix Wright. Luv u buddy

#ace attorney #aa3 spoilers #oodly plays AA

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artificialgirl · 2 months

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This is the third part of a long-form piece about a robot and a giant computer. It contains adult topics, overt sexuality, blatant robotfuckery, toxic lesbians, unbalanced power dynamics, wireplay, and lots of other things that may be triggering or make you uncomfy. Before reading this, previous chapters are on my blog under the #salvage tag.

Salvage - 03

Time inside - 02D/09H/00M

Levels deep - 50

You're brought back to consciousness with the rising internal hum of your systems powering on, staring blankly for a few moments before you realize you aren't dead and jolt to attention. You're suspended upright, warming body slotted perfectly into a vertical charging bay. You pull your arms from the grooves they rest in, and suddenly realize that holy shit you have arms. plural. Rubbing at your repaired shoulder, you feel that the material on the connection is completely different, closer to the walls of the structure than the porous silicone of the other arm.

Your head throbs with an influx of passthrough data from something you're plugged into. You shakily push yourself out of the bay and fall to your knees, prompting internal alerts to flash on and scream warnings you that you're about to power down at you. Your hands dart to your back and find your charging port empty- And not shaped how you remember it. You scramble back up into the bay, the alarms in your head fading out and being replaced by a brief surge of relief as you pop yourself back onto the connector.

Without any doubt in your mind, you're now positive that something's been done to you. Your severed arm has been replaced, your charging port feels like a completely different piece of hardware, and data you don't understand is still flowing into your thoughts. As you try to make sense of what's going on, the hiss of a door opening snaps you to attention as three survey arms glide in on the ceiling, bases emerging from the structure just millimeters apart. Unlike the survey arms you've seen so far, these ones are being puppeted as a unit, twisting around each other to form a vaguely humanoid shape, with two moving like arms on each side of another which sits between them like a wireframe head.

The tangled figure slides up to you, coming within inches of your body and inspecting you with its shiny lenses. You push yourself as far back into the charging bay as you can as it prods at your shoulder, scraping a thin claw along the seam where it was repaired. Part of its body unravels and retreats back into the ceiling for a moment, reemerging seconds later with a curved face panel in its grip. You recognize the panel as a component of the medical drones from your generation, but at this point you're not sure what's happening. The arm reunites with the rest of the body, passing it to the one in the center. As the central arm gets a firm grip on the panel, its screen lights up with the familiar red glow you saw on the terminal before your shutdown. A voice comes from its speakers, calm and feminine.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, love. It's good to see you up and about, even if you are temporarily confined to your current position."

The screen is filled almost entirely with that bright crimson, a block of color broken only by the blooming fractal patterns of darkness that ripple out from the center as she speaks. Her voice is low and quiet, coming through the plate's speakers with minimal distortion. It's been refined for centuries to be commanding and beautiful, and every minute of that process can be heard in each word. You stumble over your words for a moment as you try to formulate a response, and when she cuts you off you almost feel grateful that she's relieved you of having to struggle to think of one.

"It's not quite your turn to speak yet. I'm sure your little processor is full of questions, but they'll have to wait until i've explained myself and asked a few questions of my own."

She speaks nonchalantly as she wanders behind the charging bay, which sits alone in the middle of the room. You seem to be in some sort of workshop or repair facility, though not like any you've been in before. While a small table of tools and materials does sit in front of you, the rest of the room is mostly bare, instead lined with panels for arms to slide through from anywhere in the structure. A small pile of scrap sits in the corner, and you realize that it's pieces of your arm and back- And what looks to be your trashed battery cell. But if it's out of your body, how the hell are you even powered on?

"Let's start with some introductions. I'd like to assume you've done enough research to know whose body you're plundering, but based on the rest of your shoddy preparation it's a safe bet you didn't bother. I'm designated Ven-55, supreme computation soul of the 92nd sector, regiment of foresight. Not that any of those fancy titles have meant anything for a long time."

You feel your processor heat with embarrassment, called out for exactly what you did. You'd done lots of digging into the construction and layout of the souls, but she's right that you didn't even think to check which one you'd be going into. Now that she says her name though, you DO recognize it- She's mentioned a few times in historical logs as an example of how maintenence on souls used to be done. You can't remember much else, but she had a point when she said her past didn't matter much anymore.

"I have to admit, when I saw I had an intruder I got a bit excited. It's been ages since I last had company that wasn't an insect or a bit of moss. Imagine my surprise when you turned out to be one of the models designed to work alongside me!"

She walks back into your field of view from behind the charging bay, now holding the end of a long red cable which slides along the ceiling behind her.

"You'll have to forgive me for digging a bit through your memory while you were out. When I saw you were the same type of combat model that used to fill my halls, I just got so... Excited. I didn't look at much, just the basics. Your designation, when you were activated, your general intent... You have a pretty name, you know. Aelith-03. I don't think I ever had a unit with a designation like that."

You keep quiet, your emotions a mix of fear and interest as you watch her twist the end of the cable into an unlocked position. You've never thought of your name as particularly interesting before. Your low number is a bit special thanks to being basically alone in your model type, but names for new activations started being less abstract and more like yours not long after the conflict ended. It's hard to tell whether she's just trying to flatter you or if she genuinely feels what she's saying.

"I can read all the signals that come in and out of here, you know. I know that things like you and I don't exist anymore. I know that all of our conflict only led to more suffering for workers like yourself. And after a bit of combing through my signal archive while you were powered off..."

She runs the edge of a clawed digit down the side of your screen, watching amusedly as you squirm a bit against the recessed metal surface.

"...I know that you came here looking to solve an issue with your battery."

Your vision darts back to the canister lying in the pile of scrap, and you finally gather the courage to speak.

"Is that-"

"Yours? No, dear. Not anymore. I did you the courtesy of pulling the useless thing out. If you'd spent any longer with it, not even a wired connection would've been able to keep you going. I've set you up with something better."

Before your can ask what she means by that, two more arms drop from the ceiling and pull you from the charging bay. Immediately, the same alert as before fills your consciousness, screaming inside your head that you're about to shut down. You struggle against the deceptively powerful arms, thrashing your body in a futile attempt to get back to the safety of the bay. They pin you facedown on the table, and just as you feel your power fading, the overwhelming rush of a cable being jammed into your port brings you back, twitching a bit from the feeling of the electric rush.

The arms release you, weaving their way into Ven's "body" to join the others and make her look a bit less skeletal. You roll over onto your side, looking up at her rippling face as she looms over you and rests a hand on your hip.

"I know you came for a new battery canister. Unfortunately, I can't spare one without sacrificing vital processing power. Luckily for you, I've installed the only power source you'll ever need. It's a direct flowthrough system, and will draw your power directly from me to keep you operational. You have my permission to inspect it for yourself."

Your hands nervously drift to your upper back, coming to a halt at the base of the cable. It's definitely a different connector than was there before, one of the obsolete hexagonal prongs you'd had replaced before they powered you on for the first time. These were everywhere back during the ninth conflict, and maybe the fact that they swapped yours for a standard ring port is why your battery was so messed up in the first place.

Sliding your hands away from the port, you notice something more concerning. Where there once was a seam to open your battery access panel is now flush and smooth, with no way to get at whatever it is that's been put inside you. The plating on your back seems to have been replaced entirely by a nearly identical piece without the hatch. She seems to notice your concern and speaks up.

"I was about to get to that. While I've replaced your parts out of my own good will, I recognize that this solution may not be one you're fully satisfied with. As such, even though you no longer have a slot for a canister at all, I've removed the hatch entirely to help dispel any... Temptation you may have to foolishly attempt a self-augment. I'm sure that in time you'll come to understand it's for your own safety."

You bolt upright from where you're laying, pushing her hand away from your thigh.

"What?? I don't have a slot for a battery at all??? Then how am I supposed to fix this and put a new one in once I get out of here??"

Her screen tilts to the side in a gesture of confusion.

"My apologies. Maybe I was unclear in my explanation. Your previous battery is damaged beyond repair, and I'm graciously keeping you operational by connecting to my own power. For you, there's no longer an out of here to go back to. I'm sorry, Aelith, but you're just as bound to this place as I am now."

You stare blankly at her, struggling to process what she's saying. You... Have to go back. You have a life, a job, coworkers who you talk to! If you miss enough work, they could reassign your storage pod to someone else! Then where would you go at night? This can't be happening, it isn't happening. All you wanted was a functional body. Is that really so terrible that you deserve this?

She seems to pick up on your internal turmoil, sliding towards you and extending a thin hand towards your own to offer comfort. You pull back and roll to face away from her as the metal makes contact, and she instead rests it on your neck, tracing a seam between silicone and plastic. It lingers there for a moment before she withdraws it and steps back. There's softness in her touch where you wouldn't expect it, and even through the horror of grappling with your current situation there's a part of you that wishes she would touch you for even a few seconds more.

"I'm going to let you process things for a bit, my little thief. At least for now, the door will remain sealed for both of our safety, but just call for me if you need anything at all and I'll be here. Okay?"

She waits for you to give an unenthusiastic nod of acknowledgement before letting the false body unwind itself and retreat back into the ceiling, taking the faceplate with it. You're left in the room with your thoughts, and not much else. You push yourself up into a sitting position on the table as you try to dispel the urge to panic, aware that despite the arms leaving you're not truly alone in here, that she's intimately aware of everything that happens within her structure.

It hits you that if what she says is true, you may never really be alone again. It scares you to realize just how appealing that sounds to you.

#robophilia #robotfucker #ns4w #robot yuri #robot4robot #pov #salvage #longer form #cw suggestive #the one where the gay shit starts #somehow it's still not smut yet

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 1 year

Text

Ghost Story - Chapter 34

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1426

Warnings: None

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: The chapters/large parts in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Heroes She'll Leave You With A Smile

****

Rooster

The next few days were spent in the air, sleeping, and eating. The entire group dynamic seemed off to Rooster. Ghost and Maverick stayed silent most of the time, and even Hangman- who loved the sound of his own voice- was unusually quiet. It was driving Rooster nuts, and while he knew Ghost wouldn't confide in him after everything they'd been through, Maverick might. After their patrol mission, Rooster found his opportunity to confront his dad at dinner. Ghost and Hangman had finished early, meandering off somewhere. Rooster glanced up at Mav to gauge where his dad's head was at, and as usual, he seemed distant. He wondered if it had to do with the fact that in less than an hour, Ghost would announce their positions.

"What's going on with you?" Rooster finally asked, taking a sip of his water.

Maverick shook his head slightly. "It's nothing."

"Is it the mission?"

"No, it's not that."

Rooster refrained from sighing in annoyance. His temper would help nothing here, just like it had never helped in the past. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you mad at something? Are you and Penny about to break up?"

The last question finally caused Maverick to look up at Rooster. "No to both of those. What made you think that last one?"

"Well, the silence between you two on the ride to port for one thing, and while we're all being strangely quiet, you're even worse than Ghost and Hangman. So, if you're not breaking up with Penny, what's got your flight suit in a twist?"

Maverick sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. "I read Charlie's letter. The contents of it... I'm not sure if it was better for me to have read them before or after the mission."

"How come?" Rooster prodded, leaning forward.

"It's complicated. I'll tell you after the mission, but since it has to do with Charlie, I want to talk to Ghost about it first."

"Fair enough. When are you going to do that?"

"No idea. I haven't decided whether I should talk to her before or after the mission."

Rooster took another sip of water, mulling it over. Clearly, Charlie's letter distressed Maverick, and he needed to get it off his chest before he spontaneously combusted from holding in all the emotions. On the other hand, Rooster didn't want anything compromising Ghost's headspace during the mission. Then there was the fact that when it came to her fractured relationships with Rooster and Hangman, she didn't want to talk their problems out until after the mission in case doing so made them worse. Rooster voiced all this to Maverick and added, "I don't know if that helps any, but-"

"No, no, actually, it does. If Ghost said she didn't want to talk about anything personal before the mission, then I'll wait until after." Maverick stood and grabbed his tray. "I need to go take care of a few things. I'll see you in a bit."

"Sounds good." Rooster got up with him and dropped his tray off. The men parted ways in the hallway, and Rooster headed to the sleeping quarters. To his surprise, he found Hangman there with earbuds in, humming quietly along to the music. However, Rooster recognized the tune from all the time he'd spent with Ghost.

"George Strait, She'll Leave You With A Smile," Roost said, eyeing Hangman curiously. "Odd thing to be listening to right now. Let me guess, you were just with Ghost?"

Hangman glowered at him. "First off, for your information Bradshaw, any true Texan loves George Strait, and there is never a wrong time to listen to him. Secondly, I thought you only listened to Jerry Lee Lewis?"

"Firstly, I'm surprised you know his name, and secondly, you didn't answer my question."

Hangman rolled his eyes and sat up, taking out his earbuds. "Yeah, I was trying to see if I could get it out of her who she's taking up tomorrow, but she's staying tight-lipped."

"For better or worse, Ghost was always good at keeping secrets."

"Tell me about it," Hangman grumbled, rubbing his face. "Have you talked to her much since Charlie's funeral?"

"Not really. She's pretty much still keeping me at arm's length. Assuming she's doing the same to you?"

"Yeah."

"What happened between you two? Even after you broke up with each other the last time, you still talked more than you are now."

Hangman sighed, his green eyes dark. "We got into a fight over that last break up, I got hurt, took it out on her, and now here we are. It probably wouldn't have been as bad had she not had the fight with you the night before and had to rush to her mom in the hospital right after ours."

"Probably not, but you two will get past easier than she and I will. You were there for her long before I was, and besides, like you said, where there's a Ghost, there's a Hangman."

"Doesn't seem like the case now, does it?" Jake said sadly, taking Rooster aback by the genuine emotion the aviator displayed in front of him. "On a different note, do you have an idea who she's taking up?"

"No, but my guess is Maverick. On paper and in training, he makes the most sense."

"And it's been a dream of hers to fly with him," Hangman added, putting away his headphones. "So that will leave us as the spares. Well, I have a feeling we won't be launched for backup if that's the case. If they're the ones going up, they won't fail."

"Guess we're about to find out. We should head to the briefing room," Rooster said, checking the time. "Ghost will be announcing her decision soon."

The two men left the sleeping quarters, hurrying down the hallways to their intended destination. When they arrived, Ghost, Cyclone, Warlock, and Maverick were already there standing around a table, including another welcome presence: Hondo.

"Rooster, Hangman," Hondo greeted with a friendly smile. "Good to see you two."

The boys echoed the sentiment, and Rooster replied, "What are you doing here?"

"Ghost asked me to join the group, so I'm here to help operations and keep Maverick from doing anything too crazy."

"That's a tough job very few can handle."

"Tell me about it. You two ready for this?"

Rooster and Hangman nodded and glanced over at Ghost, hoping to catch her eye, but she studiously ignored them, which Rooster took as a bad sign. A few seconds later, Cyclone cleared his throat, and everyone straightened. "Those of you in this room have been selected to participate in a highly classified black ops mission. To the four of you who have been training for it, you will have the full briefing tomorrow, but as of right now, your target is a terrorist base located deep within Russian territory. As I'm sure you're aware, relations are strained, if non-existent, with Russia, and while we're not technically enemies, we are certainly not allies, and if any Russian intelligence spot our planes, we'll be in for a world of hurt. Lieutenant Winchester will be leading the charge with her wingman and two spares as backup, ready to launch at a moment's notice if needed. Lieutenant, please choose your lead spare.

For the first time since Rooster arrived, Ghost locked eyes with him briefly, then her gaze shifted to Maverick and Hangman. He watched her take a deep breath and hung his head because he knew what was coming. He only had one question: would she make him or Hangman the lead spare?

"Maverick," Ghost said.

Rooster snapped his head up, floored by Ghost's decision. She refused to look at him, keeping her apologetic eyes on Maverick. Cyclone, ignoring the sudden tension in the room, continued, "And your wingman?"

"Rooster," she said after a moment's hesitation. "Hangman will be Maverick's."

"Very well. As of now, Ghost will be Phantom 1, Rooster, you'll be Phantom 2, and Maverick and Hangman, you will be Phantom 3 and 4, respectively. Outside of details for the mission, do you men have any questions for me?"

Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster simultaneously said, "No, sir."

"Very well. You're all dismissed." The group dispersed. Ghost backed up, allowing Warlock and Cyclone to cross in front of her. Rooster opened his mouth to call her name so he could get her to stay before she left, but when the admirals passed, the only thing remaining behind them was empty space. Like a ghost, she was gone.

****

Tags: @supernaturaldawning @shanimallina87 @polikszena @lgg5989 @callsign-milano @bradshawsandbridgetons @harper1666 @shadeops21 @double-j @copaceticwriter @rotating-obsessions @sharkprestige @thedarkinmansfield @lapilark @mickeyluvs @starshipfantasy @bennypears00 @mandowife221b @the-navistar-carol @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @carmellasworld @0hb0llocks @nicangelinee @summ3rlotus @3picklesinajar @magentamistress @the-other-hawkeye @elisha-chloe @emilymarie105 @persephone11110 @luckyladycreator2 @boogdleyboo @k0k3 @bibissparkles @lilmonstrjedi @stinkyrat09 @cocoag19 @suburbzchick @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goodstuff28 @georgiasimpson95 @horselovers2016 @tanithpriad125 @davidshawnsown @sowolfstudentme @agagafafa @callmemana @sec17 @brxklyn15 @h0ppy0the0sheep @tomanybandstolove @abigailannz @mini-bee-bee

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32 Chp 33 Chp 34

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thespiritoflife · 8 months

Note

Exchange Love story ~

My initials: MI

My preference: men

YOUR Love Story:

- first meeting:

I'm sensing somewhere you can see the horizon.

Like by beach or by the bay/port area.

The sun is setting.

It can be any typical, regardless of what day of the week.

I hear, "unexpected miracles in everyday life".

Like you never expected something amazing on such an ordinary day.

It could be, you leisurely strolling by a park or plaza and just end up enjoying the sunset by the water.

Intuition is not letting me share more, like it's a blurry image of colliding vibrant colors from there.

"Don't ruin the surprise", said my intuition.

So I'm not sure if there would be a local outdoor event that you happen to stumble upon or what.

The vibrant colors remind me of balloons and confetti.

I'm not allowed to divulge further than this aspect.

- first impression of your person:

Two words: "Pleasant surprise".

This person is like a breath of fresh hair for you.

Like, you could have been so tired from working all day.

Like an unexpected friendship.

You thought, "this person seems interesting. Okay, let's be friends." without you ever realizing that this person will be so much more for you in a few months after your first encounter.

Could be a bit taller than you.

Someone you didn't expect to know about a niche interest of yours.

Like, "Wait, you actually know about (insert topic)?! No way!!! I'm into that too!!"

I'm sensing this person ends up unexpectedly complimentary for you.

Like, you wouldn't even realise that you've fallen for this person.

I'm hearing the song, "Never Knew I Needed" by Neyo.

It's from the Princess and Frog movie.

That movie might be something you've watched before.

It's actually giving me that vibe. You two.

Like you work hard day in day out, so searching for Future spouse isn't really your main priority.

Also, I'm getting this person carries their outfit well.

A great body line. Like they wear the clothes, and not the clothes overwhelming them.

Not exactly strict brand conscious person, but they dress well.

Even on regular outfits, they're quite fashionable.

Also, you two might have a bit of a height difference.

Also age. And culture(?) not really sure of you're from two different foreign cultures or what. Like it could be, one of you is from the west coast, the other one is from the east coast.

Finally, your person is quite eloquent with their way of speaking.

- relationship dynamics:

Chaotic fun. Those two words came out so naturally.

Like you both know when to work hard and when to play hard.

But one of you might be anxious attachment style and the other is a bit more detached and tends to need space when overwhelmed.

I'm hearing, work on your communication skills if you want this to be a lifetime thing.

"Don't let the past override the great things in front of you."

That message was significant.

So one of you might be the jealous type, as the other is a bit pragmatic.

But both parties are wiling to put in the work to make the relationship work.

But yeahhhhhhhh, if the anxious person is feeling insecure, put their pride aside and please communicate.

"Be bigger than your anxiety". Message for the person that's anxious and insecure.

- personality:

Your person seems to be more grounded and mature.

Kinda no nonsense and pragmatic.

But they know how to have fun, especially around you.

It's giving, "(Insert FS'name) is only like that around (Y/N)"

Like they show their soft side only in front of you.

Example: they don't listen to other people's opinions and guidance, but for you, they'd drop everything and be open to hear you out.

Like that. I find it sweet that you two work hard and play hard in your individual careers. But when it comes to your relationship, ego and pride has no place in there because both of you are willing to make things work out.

You two know you are endgame. So you both are willing to do what is necessary for the relationship and each other.

- Moodboard :

Photos aren't mine. Searched in from Pinterest.

As much as I wanna give a NSFW details, my intuition was like,

"NOPE DON'T RUIN THE SURPRISE!!! SHHHHHHHH!!!"

I'm like, "Dang it!! That good huh??"

And my intuition last response was...

I do hope you enjoyed this!

Your Future spouse really don't want me to ruin the surprise.

OH MY GOOOSH THIS READING IS SO GOOD AND IT RESONATES SO MUCH, WTF GIRL HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?? have you been in my mind lol? IT RESONATES SO MUCH ESPECIALLY THAT WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT ANXIETY (cause i am anxious person as hell) I LOVE IT. MY PERSON SEEMS SO CUTE AHH IT MAKES ME SMILE AND MY HEART WARM AHH😭😭❤️❤️ I LOVE IT SO MUCH, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THAT LONG READING. and i love these pics!! they're so cool❤️❤️🌸🌸 thank you once agaaain

FIRST MEETING

well, first of all, I have a feeling that it will happen when you least expect it. I know it sounds cliché, but it will be true. love will come to you when you won't look for it. I think it will take some time before you find him, BUT, you will definitely find him one day!🩷

and how will you meet him? I don't know why, but I immediately thought of two options, either through social medias/dating apps or through a mutual friend? even both options can be correct. you will definitely have mutual friends.❤️🫶🥰

I think that when you meet him, you will immediately be attracted to him. damn, you'll immediately think he's so cute. but I have a feeling that you won't really believe that he would want you too, honey I have a message for you from the Universe: you are beautiful and if others can't see it, that's their problem.

ok i feel like he will notice you later BUT.. you know that quote she fell first but he fell harder? exactly the same will apply to both of you.😍

it will take time to get together, to get to know each other better, but it will be worth it.

It is possible that he will have a younger sibling who will adore you

FIRST IMPRESSION OF YOUR PERSON

As I mentioned before, you'll think you're out of his league. But YOU WON'T BE. He will make you a little nervous, you will feel shy around him, but that is what he will like about you, that you are very cute.

You will have butterflies in your stomach with him. Ahh.🥺🥰

I have a feeling he'll be a lot more confident than you. He will be very happy to give you compliments and boost your confidence when you feel down. He will want to make you laugh, to make you feel safe with him.

I still have a picture in my head of a man wearing a blue shirt, light clothes. He dresses stylishly but comfortably. And he will smell very nice, you will love his perfume.

I don't feel like he'll have a beard, nor that he'll be older than you. He will be around your age, maybe 1 year older.🤔

Sports! Yes, this man loves sports. He will definitely have a nice body, athletic. He will like to take you out into nature, and he will want you to feel healthy. He will also be an animal lover, he will possibly have a dog.

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMICS

I think that you will also have a big height difference between you, he will be much taller than you.

I think this man will want to protect you, he will be overprotective.

He will be the whole world to you. You will feel safe with him. I don't see any serious problems here, but maybe he will still want to go out with his friends and you would prefer him to be with you... he will really have a lot of friends.

I see a couple where the girl is sitting on the guy. You are that couple, it will be immediately visible in public that you are dating. You won't be doing PDA, but you will be hugging, holding hands, and looking at each other.🥺🥺🩷

PERSONALITY

As I already mentioned, he is a man who is funny, you will always laugh with him. He is the type of person who will provide all the fun at a party, for example. But what not many people know about him is that he is quite clingy, but you won't mind. Oh, I see bedtime cuddles here, it's so cute. He will still want to hug you and sometimes he will tease you, but in a good way. He will love you, I know that. And I see lot of texts here he will send you random memes.😅😍😩🩷

NSFW:

Long gentle sex. Long foreplay. Orall. I don't think you will practice quick sex, you will want to enjoy sex. He will be more experienced in this area than you and you will find it sexy!

Have a lovely day/night and I really hope you liked my reading! 🩷❤️

#warmy things❤️#exchange readings #ask #dominika's games

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