#(surprise both ends of this scale are bad)
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invinciblerodent · 3 months ago
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Thinkin' 'bout how post-game, my sweet Iona is kind of one Very Bad Day away from becoming Vox Machina-era Delilah Briarwood
Good thing her sweetheart already is a vampire, saves her one uncomfortable deal with the Whispered One, but if anything at all were to happen to Astarion in her lifetime... y'know, I wouldn't be, like, surprised, if things were to take a turn for the weird with her.
They are like 85% of each other's respective impulse controls (they are a battery acid and a drain cleaner That Fuck, their respective insanities kind of cancel out), I wouldn't be shocked if she kind of lost a few of her marbles as a result.
I don't just support, I engineer as daydream about women's wrongs
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lemongogo · 2 years ago
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#i love when characters challenge each other like this#bc they arent so vehemently opposed to one another to where its like .. just continous unending dissent without ever achieving a resolution#theyre both entrenched in their ways and have rzns for what they do#and both have good points . wolfwood ab how fighting back is all that people have to decide for themselves#and vash refusing to kill as a promise to rem and the life that sustained bc of her sacrifice and the importance of peace and love for#prosperity / human nature to Him#like they agree . ab the end result but they are both right in how they feel (maybe wolfwood a bit more as vash obvi benefits from being )#(a plant)#(and interpersonal conflicts being unavoidable on large scale yk. bad ppl do exist n violence can be necessary 4 change)#IDDDK ITS JUST GOOD I LUV ITT I love it . i love the back and forth and the way they push and prod at each other but work so well 2gether#nonetheless#vash#wolfwood#trigun#trigun maximum#trigun manga#trigun spoilers#IM ACTUALLY SO SURPRISED BTW??? IRT THEIR DYNAMIC?#like its actu refreshing . and funny . and goofy . and pathetic#bc i was so ready for wolfwood to be this borin broody angsty isolated character type#that is soo common in stories like this#but hes like . SILLY!!! they both are. the four of them are. millie meryl wolfwood and vash#idk i just like it a lott a lot a lot. idk much ab stampede but i got the impression that hes like . emo skype emoji but i hope they channel#1998 wolfwood at some point LMAOO#i love the spread where . u knwo the panel where hes like stop fuckinf crying🤬🤬🤬 @ vash HAJAHAHAHAHH#right after he was like ik we’ve talked ab this before (whatev whatev) and later brings it up again but apologizes in advance for what hes#gna say#and its just like. kind of sweet HELP KINDAA SRU . ..\STOP IT!!!! anywyas#ANYWAYS!!! i do rly enjoy their dynamic . and their ideals . and wolfwoods priest schtick . HAJAHA#we r back to essays in the tags era
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shotmrmiller · 2 months ago
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re: rugby team ghoap
it'd been a one-off, seize-the-moment kind of thing. casual hookups aren't really for you, plus you distinctly remember your ex prating on about how the team would only be here for the weekend hence the absolute burning need to go, and you've got work monday.
goodbye, great knowing them. you'd traipsed out of the hotel room with your sneakers in hand, soap's used jersey in the other- a memento of sorts, a trophy. mild serial killer behavior but you reckon since you just became another pearl in their long string of conquests, the least you could do is take something with you that won't be gone with a warm epsom salt bath and a couple of days rest.
("would ye believe yer the prettiest we've ever brought back with us?" right. you know where you stand on that scale, and people like you don't typically pull men like them. another cringe-worthy comment like that and you'd mistake their interest with pity.)
you'd put both jerseys in the wash later that day, and the rattling of your washing machine marked the end of your exciting weekend.
or so you'd thought. from your side of things, you'd wiped your hands clean of their sweat, spit and come and went home, once again falling back into semi-familiarity, expecting to go to work feeling completely relaxed and loose, in more ways than one, while ignoring the photos taken of you and the "star players" at the stadium on social media.
(no one caught your face, what bloody luck.)
when you see them again, it's by pure chance. you'd been ordering a sandwich at a deli down the street, hand already reaching for your wallet when an arm curls around your shoulders, dark, coarse hair of a forearm brushing against your cheek.
cedarwood and citrus. it clings to your senses— a sharp, tangy reminder of that time you'd only look back on when the familiar pang of want pooled searing hot between your legs. small world, you suppose.
"didnae leave a note. stole my jersey. 'm surprised ye didnae leave us money on the table, bonnie." warmth flared beneath your cheeks but you didn't cow to his crude joke.
"i suppose i could've left a tip. what do you want?"
the playful lines around his eyes smoothed as his lips straightened into a firm line, his eyes frostbitten. you ignore the way his touch makes you feel trapped, tethered, a cage made of velvet.
"took my shirt and then didn't show up to a single game after tha'. jus' gettin' wha' i'm owed. unless he's yer favorite."
how can he be your favorite when you know nothing about the sport they play and have no interest in knowing?
"too bad. we come as a package. get yer food, we've a place nearby."
(simon had been nowhere near as good-natured as johnny had about you leaving without a word. made you spit out apologies with swollen lips, only accepted the ones that came with a fluttering of your raw pussy around the splitting thickness of him while soap condescendingly cooed in your ear about lessons having to be learned the hard way.)
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specialgradefckr · 5 months ago
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Heatwave: Day 1
tw: explicit content, 5k+ words, reader/sukuna. female!reader, beta!reader, alpha!sukuna, true form!sukuna. oral (male/female receiving), PIV, size difference, sukuna has a knot, sukuna is lowkey a masochist, some anal (not the reader's ass).
Prompt: Betas serving as royal sex concubines without fear of pregnancy.
It wasn’t as bad as one might expect, being Ryomen Sukuna’s concubine.
Oh, he was terrifying, certainly. Death wasn’t uncommon in the household, though rarer than some might think.
Sukuna traveled often, sampling both the lands and the people within them, returning to the estate only when it pleased him to do so.
Everyone in the estate knew their master’s expectations and the consequences for not meeting them. Only the rare missteps resulted in punishments, though they were indeed brutal.
On some occasion, the lord’s aide would bring half-dead curses - or corpses of enemy sorcerers - to a separate building on the estate for some strange and nefarious purpose.
It made no difference to you. The estate was clean and well-maintained, the servants attentive, and the stocks never ran low.
You were living the perfect life.
No one denied you anything. You could summon merchants, make the odd trip into town, and entertain yourself however you wished, provided you fulfilled your responsibilities as a concubine.
You were a nobody before you came to the estate.
You’re still a nobody, but everyone here is a nobody in Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes.
Your lifespans are determined by how useful you were to him at any given moment.
And he had an unexpected use for a common whore like you.
It was probably more surprising that you were a beta, and not an omega – infinitely more desirable for an alpha like the lord, one would assume.
You’d never presumed to pry before, but it’s easy to speculate, after having known him long enough.
He’s a powerful man, utterly indifferent to societal standards or norms. His desire and satisfaction were above all other things, just as he was above everyone weaker than him. And everyone was weaker than him.
It was hard to imagine him at the mercy of an omega’s potent pheromones, longing for the comfort of his partner’s nest, pining for the love of his mate, or driven madly to lust by the scent of a rut.
Or perhaps he indulged plenty, but so much fervor could only end in bloodlust on his part. Any omega summoned to his chambers to serve his pleasure never returned.
You do fare luckier in that respect. He may not have been gentle lover, but as long as you’d served him he’d left you with no more than bruises and bite marks.
And he could hurt you, destroy you, utterly disfigure you in permanent and terrifying ways… with just a casual glancing blow.
Sukuna is present on this night, though, and it appears he’s summoned you.
His aide, Uruame, is far closer to him than any of his concubines, and by now you know the sound of their footsteps slowing as they near your door.
They smile at you as you open the door for them, bowing before your eyes meet theirs.
Uruame is not fond of any of their lord’s concubines, as a rule. Being a beta themselves, it’s unlikely they understand Sukuna’s needs as an alpha any better than you do.
But what they can understand is that you respect their lord immensely. A sorcerer yourself, you know enough to appreciate the scale of his power, and you had never made any secret of your admiration.
Unlike many other concubines brought in, you had very little arrogance to show for your beauty and bedroom skills. Uruame probably does appreciate that.
You’re a beta from a brothel, so you have no delusions of self-importance, but Sukuna, and by extension Uruame, couldn’t care less where you came from.
You know their purpose as soon as they arrive; they don’t need to engage in any inane conversation or instructions.
As soon as Sukuna had returned, you’d readied and dressed yourself in case he were to summon you. It happens more often than not whenever he’s back at the estate.
You suspect you’re the only one he summons during his rut.
His omega concubines are… single-use. Your fellow betas are few in number, and he’s no more forgiving with his concubines than he is his other servants.
You follow Uraume to his room. You can’t tell if he’s in a rut or not, but your suspicion is confirmed as Uruame gives a short nod, then strides off.
Sukuna doesn’t like being seen during his rut. Many have learned the hard way.
“Well? What are you waiting for, an invitation?” His voice is as gruff as ever. Low, heady, a delicious groan that sends shivers down your form.
He didn’t ask to be answered, of course. The only appropriate response to Sukuna’s question is action.
Quickly you slide the door open and shut it behind yourself as you fall into a low bow. You don’t meet his eyes without permission.
“Get up.” Your cue to sit up, to not bother with any further formalities. His rut must be well underway. “Come over already.”
You don’t waste any more time. He sounds impatient, and he probably is, but any less deference could see your head separated from your body. It’s especially important not to touch him first, to let him touch you.
Sukuna loathes being touched without permission.
It’s not something you have to worry about, though. As soon as you’re within reach, one of his hands bears down onto your shoulder; to him, it’s as good as an explicit instruction.
You never subject Sukuna to the indignity of having to voice his desires.
Perhaps that’s why he likes you so – there’s a flash of something pure alpha, an intense delight in his eyes as you kneel and attend to him in prefect obedience and submission.
Falling to your knees at his feet, wasting not even a second, you work to free his painful erection from the confines of his clothes.
Practiced hands accomplish it easily, and you’re rewarded with a large hand that strokes through your hair, brushing it back out of your face and holding it there.
His erection springs forward, as impatient as he is. His knot is already swollen up.
It’s red and flushed, pink to match his hair, heavy and thick like all the rest of his limbs.
Even an omega would blanch at taking such a monster. You are well-trained.
It’s enough just to lick at it, some cursory strokes to wet the shaft with his precum, to touch your lips to his heated flesh. Searing, really.
Wide, open-mouthed kisses dragged along him until his cock is coated well enough with spit and his own pre.
Without any further hesitation you open your mouth wide and take him all the way down to the knot, lips thinning where his cock swells and throbs.
The head is already lodged in your throat, and you swallow as you take it down, pressing your lips in. A moan tells you he’s already growing sensitive.
It wouldn’t feel very good for him to knot in your throat – he’s never bothered with it before – but there’s always a flash of satisfaction in his eyes.
Sukuna doesn’t want to knot your throat, but it pleases him to think that he could. That you are willing and ready to take it, if he wished.
“Good little beta." The mouth on his abdomen seems to grin at you, wide and dripping saliva.
A fire ignites in your belly at the praise, face heating up, your own mouth opening wide.
No matter what you are, Sukuna is an alpha through and through, and the desire to please surges as his hand presses you forward.
As a concubine or a common harlot, you’d always been good at your job.
Sorcery had delivered you from the streets and into Sukuna’s estate, and diligence, determination, had kept you alive throughout it all.
Others died around you. Weak. You would do whatever it took to survive, however ugly it may be.
Taking cock down your throat isn’t even close to the most degrading thing you’ve done, and at least there’s only one man now for you to serve.
He’s not even a bad lay. Either a suppressed instinct to please his mate as an alpha or some fortuitous chemistry has always ensured he brings you to release whenever you fuck.
The unmarred half of his face is undeniably handsome, and after all you’d seen, you’re utterly indifferent to the deformity. It’s just there. A part of him like any other – the other arms, the other mouth.
You’re sure you yourself have flaws in his eyes, but if he truly did not want you, you’d never have been allowed in his chambers to begin with. Sukuna is a man with absolutely no interest in pretenses. He takes what he wants, when he wants it, always.
Sometimes, you think that you and Sukuna aren’t all that different after all.
An alpha who was malformed, cast out by society, recognized only in disgust or fear.
And you, sold by a father eager to make any money he could off a pretty beta daughter.
You were unfit to be an alpha’s bride, but perfectly suited to be every alpha’s whore.
If you wanted happiness, you had to seize it, even if it meant choking the life out of someone else.
Both of you were worth only as much as you could curse others. Sukuna’s worth is greater than yours, but in his shadow everyone is equally worthless, and in his gaze – at least for this moment – you are worthy of him.
The fingers in your hair tighten; a hiss, “Take it!” and you suckle diligently as you bob backwards, diving forward straight away to take him to the root again.
Inhuman though he may be, his cock is much the same as any other alpha’s, if a bit larger.
Hot, smooth skin, veins that pulse and bulge inside your mouth. A salty taste you’d grown accustomed to, a stretch in your mouth and your jaw that you ameliorated by focusing on hollowing your cheeks, dragging your tongue along it.
Betas can’t purr, not like omegas or alphas can, but you approximate it with a hum, a gentle sigh through your nose and fluttering, lowered lashes.
A low exhalation. Controlled. “There she is…” The hand in your hair goes to stroke possessively over your cheek. “My little beta. All for me.”
His eyes dilate in lust – you always meet his gaze while you do this, for as long as you’re able, you know he likes this – and you know before you feel the touch of his hand on your jaw to begin drawing back.
His hand barely ghosts you before you move, leaving trails of saliva strung between your lips and his shining cock while you gaze up at him.
Another theatric he enjoys. His tongue darts out from his lips, grasping and stroking himself, hand coated in a sweet-smelling oil you recognize.
His other arms reach to grasp you by the shoulder, pulling you up to stand and burying your face in his neck wordlessly.
They wrap around you, pulling you into him as he steps back to sit on the bed where you follow.
It surprises you every time, just how much your body comes alive at his touch.
Heart racing as if it can jump through your skin and into the hands that trace your throat, your collarbone, down your chest, dragging the slip of a robe you’d worn down with it.
Sukuna likes undressing you, alpha that he is.
Like you’re a sacred treasure to be unveiled only by his hands. You always wear something easy to take off, and nothing else.
His touch is your leave to respond in kind; he’s fully bared, now, all tattooed skin and corded muscle.
A warrior’s form, conveying power and strength in every divot and valley. Your heart races as you lay your hands on him.
Maybe it’s the thrill of it.
Sukuna is utterly untouchable. The greatest sorcerers of your time had died failing to scratch the smooth, unbroken skin he offers to you so freely.
As a concubine, you don’t get much contact. Less still, since no one would dare lay a hand on a consort Sukuna summons so often to his side.
Normally that suited you just fine, but sometimes with him you feel like a dog straining on a leash.
Desperate for him to reach out, to feel him on you. Lust and adrenaline coursing through you the instant he makes contact.
Even as a beta, this close, it’s impossible not to smell him; he’s pulled you to his throat on instinct.
His scent glands are right there, and you don’t hesitate to lick at them, letting your breath ghost over the hot, spit-slicked skin. Dragging your teeth along the swollen flesh.
That’s one of the things he likes best. He knows you’re a beta. You have no fangs, you couldn’t mark him if you wanted to. Not with anything but curses.
But still, it is a pleasure. The salt on your tongue, the flesh that yields beneath your teeth, even without breaking, as the alpha’s aroma fills your senses.
Sukuna is spiced; harsh, in some ways, like cinnamon, but warm like a pleasant woodsmoke, like the heat of oil burning in a lamp. Just this side of decadent – opulent, almost, and still primal and raw.
It doesn’t affect you like you imagine it would an alpha or omega. But it’s nice. He smells nice.
You don’t hesitate to nip at his lips when he presses them to yours.
Perhaps one of the reasons Sukuna hates being touched without permission is because he also doesn’t care to be touched gently.
If he weren’t in rut, you would have dragged your teeth over his cock while it was in your mouth, but he’s not able to savor such services in his current state.
They’re red, so red, all his four eyes staring into you. Burning in want. In want of you.
“Fierce little thing.” You can taste his grin, you’re close enough. “See how fierce you’ll be when you’re full of me. My beta. Mine.”
“Yours,” You agree breathily, and lean back in to catch his mouth with your own.
His lips are one place you’re able to make him bleed, dragging the bottom lip beneath your teeth and pinching it, then darting your tongue in to taste.
Sukuna hums at the taste of metal in his mouth, sucks your tongue between his lips to press and purse and suckle on at his leisure. Brilliant red eyes half-lidded in lust.
Your hands get to work, one of them cupping his jaw and then his hair, brushing it back in a way that makes him preen now that he’s in rut and can’t suppress it.
Alphas love getting petted, and Sukuna loves the scrape of fingernails over his scalp, a tight tug against his hair; it all sends his knot pulsing against you.
“Here. Your mouth had a taste, let’s see how your cunt likes it.” His arms lift you up just enough to sit over his well-muscled legs.
Your thighs spread while his cock falls forward, between your thighs.
Sukuna holds you there, just far enough, letting it rub against you with little tugs to your hips. Desire sparking like flint where his length rubs against you. Fuck.
Oh, you want him. Ache for him. It pulls low in your core, to lean into him, to feel his arms holding you in place, to feel him all against you.
You wrap your arms around him in return, clawing at his shoulders as the mouth on his stomach tongues between your legs. It’s exquisite and agonizing all at once. Slick and dragging against you, heavy and broad.
He’s already purring at the taste of you. Hands clenching in desire over the roundness of your hip.
You want him. You want him.
You can have him, take him, touch, touch, touch. Dig your teeth into the firm muscle against his neck to feel his purr grow louder under your teeth.
Your curse technique flickers at your fingertips, dancing over the open canvas of his back.
Inhaling sharply, you think you hear him swear, and then, “Yes.” He laughs breathily, “More. Put more into it. That can’t be all you’ve got.”
It isn’t. The sound of him is everywhere now, vibrations that shake you all the way to your core.
The mouth on his belly still laps at your folds. It drools on your folds like you’re a meal he cannot wait to savor.
Sukuna is already running hot. It’s too easy when he’s like this, all heated, blood pumping heavy through every part of him.
Just beneath the surface you feel it; searing, boiling, heat jumping up to meet your touch. Like liquid fire underneath his skin, you’d heard it described. Exhilarating, Sukuna had called it.
A talent half-learned by accident in the steamy, lurid, filthy recesses of the brothel you’d worked at. A dark place filled with malice and jealousy, reeking of curses in every corner. One day you’d awoken with a strength that sung in your veins, screamed to be used.
You had learned to vanquish shadows with a flick of your wrist, the creatures bursting from the inside.
Once, on a lark, you’d tried it on a client who struggled to maintain his hardness. It had been remarkably effective, pooling blood in his cock, and with a little work you were able to reproduce it in other ways.
It had all been success from there. Climbing the ranks, scoring pleasure into the flesh of those who paid you well enough.
Oh, it was painful, too, but what pleasure in life came without a little pain? If you wanted something, you had to be willing to sacrifice for it.
A founding principle of jujutsu. It’s no wonder Sukuna so delights in battle, either against sorcerers or in his own bed; when you heat his blood in his veins it sends his knot pulsing, throbbing, twitching in excitement as pre drips out.
With him holding you so close you can feel his purring throughout your whole body.
A rare pleasure, a prize you win with vicious effort, cursed energy surging in your hands as you rake your nails over the glorious, muscled expanse of his back.
“Open,” Sukuna commands.
It’s a tone that never fails that make you tremble in anticipation. Your cunt is already dripping with it.
The part of your legs widen, and you lean back to look down at where he’s settled against you.
He’s so large. Always so large. The knot swelling already.
You’re clenching already, quivering, like you’re the one in heat and not he in his rut.
God, you want him to fuck you already.
One massive hand reaches down, stroking over his cock, wet with your saliva, his precum, and the oil substitute for an omega’s slick.
It nudges at your cunt and you let out a short whimper that sends him snarling, thick fingers digging sweet bruises into your hips.
“Always so sweet for me,” His lips ghost over your temple as he stares down, “Delectable. Strong little thing, you can take it.”
The head of his cock slots against your entrance. Fuck, it’s hot, burning, searing, you’re so fucking ready, your cunt is weeping and you feel like keening for it, “Please. Alpha, please.”
You can almost see it in his eyes, red and feral with need. Omega, my omega, my mate – all the things you’ve heard from alphas before.
Clingy, possessive, biting at you, rutting into you like they can breed you. All the filthy things whose beds you’d warmed in the past.
They all pale in comparison to the King of Curses. Hot and throbbing and silken against your entrance, the deep grunt of effort that you feel when he lines himself up and drives himself in.
The very sensation knocks the wind out of you.
Sukuna slides in easily but it’s tight, so tight, always. You feel him feel it, too, all those muscles growing taut before you as he sinks into you.
Your arms tremble before they remember what to do; grasping carelessly at his shoulders, clawing for purchase as the whines claw their way up your throat. They’re shoved back down by the deep moan you make when he reaches the end of your passage.
“F-fuck,” it’s good, it’s so good, it hurts so good and there’s nothing you can do but sit there and take it. Just as he told you to.
It’s always a bit painful, but there’s a pleasure in it, too, the piercing delight of being so thoroughly fucked into. You swear you feel yourself dripping out where he enters you, and you moan again at the feeling of him dragging himself out.
A low noise, a chuckle; like every sound Sukuna makes, you feel it just as much as you hear it.
“Do it again.” He demands, and you would never make the alpha wait.
You couldn’t even if you wanted to.
He pushes into you again and your moans crack, because he slides through easier this time but it’s just so big, so fucking huge you feel your walls trying to flex, envelop him, desperate to find any give at all, but there’s just no give.
It’s like having solid steel lodged inside you, burning hot and smooth against your core.
“Good beta.” Sukuna effortlessly lifts you up by the hips, dragging you off his cock and savoring how you whine at its loss, “My good little beta. Squeezing me so tight.”
He drops you down, down, back onto him. Cock thrusting up into you, cleaving your cunt apart, hitting a spot that makes you wail. Sukuna laughs, and you can feel his cock twitching.
“Need my cock, do you, little beta?” The rut is at its height now, pulling him in, smearing possession all over his face, his evil grin. “Even if it breaks you apart?”
All you can do is nod while you pant. He pulls you up and down by the waist, fucking you on his cock like a tool for his pleasure –
And Sukuna has never failed to use a tool to its fullest extent. “Fuck, fuck – fuck, alpha, please – please, please – ”
His own laughter is broken up by heavy breaths. One of his huge hands grasps you by the scruff of your neck, and you try to go obediently limp but your whole body jerks with the unrestrained force of his fucking into you.
Tight and unforgiving, baring your throat for him to dive into. An alpha in the midst of his rut. His teeth graze over your neck, licking where scent glands would normally be.
“Please,” Your breath catches in your throat at Sukuna’s kiss, all teeth and feral smiles pressed into your skin.
He stays like that for a moment, knot pulsing desperately just outside of your cunt.
Grinding into you like he thinks he can fit it in – you both know it can’t, you simply don’t have the anatomical space of an omega. But it feels good.
So good. It rubs, hot and throbbing against your clit, and fuck if you don’t nearly cum from it right there, tightness in your core heavy and ready to burst.
“Sukuna,” You say his name in a broken moan.
Teeth in your jugular. Hot tongue over your throat.
Hands gripping your sides. Moving you up and down like a puppet.
Cock pressing and pressing into you, relentless. Pleasure lapping at your insides as his cock rocks into you, begging to be let in.
A thumb on your clit, rubbing circles. “Cum, beta. Cum for your alpha – hngh – cum now – ”
Pleasure bursts through you, as if brought to life by his words. White hot and overflowing, every part of your body floating on air.
It’s like you’re a feather in his hands. Airy lightness fills you and even the stretch between your legs feels pleasant, a welcome intrusion, cunt blissfully numb.
Sukuna fucks you through it all the while, breathless, determined, on the brink himself as he chases the friction of you squeezing the life out of him.
You twitch in his grasp, aftershocks trembling through. He holds you upright easily, letting your head fall forward while he drags you up and down, mindlessly brushing his burning knot against your entrance.
It’s several moments before you catch yourself; it makes no difference to Sukuna. Your climax brought him closer, but not there, not just yet.
It’s with the giddy sort of warmth your afterglow brings that you lazily grope the space next to the bed.
You find the vial of oil he’d used earlier, and easily unscrew the top and spread it across your fingers with a single hand.
Sukuna had stared a moment the first time he saw you do that. So you have a sorcerer’s dexterity after all, he’d said, and it was the compliment you’d treasured most to date.
This time, his eyes don’t leave your body. All four of them, red and fiery and burning into you. Your chest. Your face.
They linger where your bodies are joined, at the stretch of your cunt taking him, the hole that has no more to give him but squeezes him anyways.
You can tell by his ragged breaths he needs more stimulation, heavy in rut and knotted tight as he is. That’s fine. You’ve done this before.
Slicked fingers find his waist, and then lower, to his ass. He parts his knees further, as if for more leverage to thrust fruitlessly against you, and you take the opportunity to squeeze one well-muscled cheek with your dripping hand.
The sharp inhale – you’re sure he’d hate to hear it called a gasp – “Beta!” –  tells you you’re free to go ahead.
So you do, digging your fingertips into his ass, into a hole too well-oiled to not have been prepared beforehand.
A rumble swells, in his chest, his throat, pressing hard against you along with his cock, nudging his knot further against your entrance.
You tease along the rim and then drive into it. He hisses as it burns, knot throbbing against you, massive hands squeezing bruises and then caressing them as soon as they bloom.  
It’s delicious, the way it clenches at your fingertips, tight and furled up, but you slip in easily with his preparation and your oiled fingers.
Darting into the yielding warmth of his insides, a pleasure that has him seizing against you, all muscle and magnificent form trained on your touch.
Your cunt clenches at the thought, the power you have in this moment; it squeezes the cock spearing you and sends tremors through his form.
“Clever girl,” He rumbles as you drag along his insides, “Clever fingers,” another heavy thrust, fingers twitching, “More,” thrust, shudder, “More!”
With a heated urgency your fingers curl, feeling, pressing around in a way that has Sukuna panting, teething at your shoulder, kneading hands against your hips while you search for just the right spot.
His knot presses insistently against your entrance, where there’s no space for you to receive it, but it catches on your oversensitive clit enough to make you gasp and whine.
Sukuna grins, mouth wide open, drooling like the feral, satisfied monster he was.
“Beta…” he hums, and it feels like he’s saying your name, as close to a loving coo as a creature like him can make.
And then, then, you find it, as you have so many times before. A high, keening noise Sukuna would be otherwise unwilling to part with, drawn out from him in the height of his rut.
You press into a bundle of flesh through his insides. A spot that sends him rutting wildly against you, unconcerned with his knot or anything besides fucking and feeling more of that pressure into him.
It’s almost all you can do to keep it coming, your other arm flailing desperately to reach around him for any kind of purchase while he thrusts your mind away.
Pleasure finds you again but this is liquid flames instead of white hot.
It pours out from you, spilling everywhere, the feeling of his release spurting inside you.
Full, full, fuller, so full you swear you’re bursting, it feels so fucking good. Flowing out over his cock, against your cunt, where his hurried thrusts squeezes it into a lewd, sopping met against your clit.
This one brings tears to your eyes. The sound of it, wet and squelching, utterly lewd, like you can feel the tremors of pleasure that have you milking him for cum that cannot impregnate you.
His hands are all that ground you, points on your body where his touch had ceased to be painful, to be anything but a feeling of him against you, the warm and powerful alpha who’d taken you to his bed, monster or not.
Sukuna groans and pants his heart out, still fucking into you while your eyes are glassy and all movement has left your body.
Your clever little hand fallen to the side as its purpose was fulfilled, his knot finally unraveling into the delicious joy of breeding you.
Ahh. He can admit the look in his eyes when he looks at you is fondness, to some degree. His perfect little beta. Wicked fingers and the smartest mouth he’d ever seen. Always so good for him.
He lays himself down alongside you on the bed, still buried deep in you, cum leaking slowly away.
The mess never bothered him, not in the torrid, heated moments of bodies entwined. He’d bathe with you later.
So warm. Always warm and welcoming him, your cunt is the most exquisite hole he’s ever known, but it’s the rest of you that makes it worth his time. Every time.
There’s something about it that sends a frenzy through him.
A hurried urge, like a desire to run or jump or lash out, but instead it makes him want to wrap his entire self around you and laugh in wicked delight.
It feels like fire on the battlefield, blood on his tongue, power coursing through every pore, seas ready to part at his command. It feels like strength, but he’s not even holding you very tightly.
He takes a deep breath, face pressed to your hair; beta. A faint, pure, neutral scent, so unmistakable in its cause. It elicits no particular reaction, stirs no great curiosity or lust.
But you do. It’s easy, natural, to wrap all four arms around you and squeeze. Your perfect figure yielding in his grasp, compressing beneath him, legs folding as he swings one over yours.
A purr rumbles deep in his chest as the sensation envelops him.
Touching, holding, entwined. You, completely full of him, made docile with his cum and his knot, surrendering to his embrace. All his. All for him.
Your boneless, weak figure in his arms, the little sigh of bliss you let out… it’s a feeling that’s only come to him in the midst of battle, curses coursing, glorious, in every direction.
A thrill of triumph that enervates, lightens every one of his limbs and sets him with a feeling of utter satisfaction.
Sukuna is purring in earnest now, and he can’t even bring himself to be annoyed by it.
Why suppress his instincts for the beta that so perfectly warms his bed? Why restrain himself in any way, when you’re wholly incapable of binding him, of bearing pups or marking him, and serve him with such delectable vigor?
An arm, so much smaller than his, slowly slips itself over his waist. You’re barely conscious, pretty face all flushed from your climax, unable to even open your eyes.
But your head drifts towards his chest even while asleep, where the vibrations are the strongest. Tucked under his neck, nestled in him and his scent.
An alpha’s purr is usually a sign of contentment, but it’s supposed to be soothing to omegas. As far as he knows, it doesn’t have any particular effect on betas.
Sukuna supposes it’s probably just you.
It’s so easy to reduce you to want, to unrestrained lust, pure and devoted entirely to him. Why should he need an omega when he has this at his beck and call?
You can’t be bred, of course – that was the whole point of using a beta. But sometimes he does wonder.
What you would look like if you were with child. Breasts heavy with milk, the mild scent of a beta humming with the life nurtured within.
You’re strong. You’d produce fine offspring. Your curse technique is interesting in its own right – igniting a person’s own cursed energy from beneath their skin. Not remarkable in effectiveness, but wholly unique in its operation.
Would it stop his ruts, to see you pregnant for some time? You’re the only one he spends them with, so seeing you pregnant might just delay them, without the influence of an omega’s hormones. 
Would he grow more aggressive as you neared delivery? Would his instincts command him to slay your spawn so he could fill you with his own?
Uruame is a beta, and has the necessary parts. He could breed you without all the tiresome mechanics of a bond between alpha and omega; place his two favorite subjects together and watch as his loyal subject bred his most treasured concubine for him. 
Watching you take in the seed of someone other than him… but Uruame is a beta, and belongs to him as much as you do. If he scented them as well, perhaps? They always had very little scent of their own.
Heat stirs within him at the thought. It’s too early to tell if it’s anger at the idea or arousal, especially in the state he’s in.
You make a little noise, and all four eyes shoot down to look over your form, all sweat and heat and dripping cum.
He shifts to move some of his weight off of you, sliding onto his back and settling your head on his chest so you can drift to sleep to the sound of his purring.
After all, his rut is just beginning. Sukuna can spare you some rest…
For an hour or so.
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bamfkeeper · 2 months ago
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Red...?
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RQ: 'Hello! I adored you Dad!Nightcrawler story! And wanted to know if you could make this possible headcanon since it seemed funny. So Kurt's parents are Azazel&Mystique so what if his kid gets traits/mutations from them? (Like it skipped a gen) Like red skin from Azazel or Mystiques abilities/scales. It may be humorous to see/for Kurt to handle' -@aphrodite4lover
Pairing: Kurt Wagner x F!Reader // Warnings: None I think lol.
A/N: I love this, actually. I know his parents were re-written as Mystique & Destiny, but for the sake of this, Kurt's parents are originally Azazel & Mystique. Yes ofc here's some hcs. Added a few things to make it interesting. Also I know that's a red bamf not a baby just pretend it is okay 😭
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When your little one came out you were both surprised to see that they weren't blue like expected...but red.
As you held your little one, you were a bit confused, of course. You looked at the red infant, their little body soft but lacking Kurt's fuzz and instead had carefully placed soft scales. They adorned the baby's shoulders and upper arms, cheeks, a little on the forehead, down the spine and shoulder blades, and of course the thighs.
The signature spaded tail was there, and the baby did have three digits like Kurt, but nothing else resembled him at all.
You loved your baby, but you were just a little worried. Kurt wasn't sure what to think either. He knew you hadn't cheated, heavens no. Plus...mutations are random.
Azazel would have a field day if he heard that Kurt's child ended up red instead of blue. The asshole might even make a comment about mating you but...that's a whole other scenario.
The baby always favored you too, which he sort of understood since you were the mother, but your child always cried and he could never soothe them. "Ach, bitte....calm down, you have food and you are clean...why do you cry?" he tries to hard, rocking, bouncing, cradling.
He gets a little jealous when your baby calms instantly when in your arms. "They do not like me, liebling..." he frowns and pouts.
As your little baby grew, they proved themselves to be a little devil indeed. Kurt felt himself being run rampant, the toddler ran after him and Kurt could barely keep up. Your child was slippery and extremely cunning for a toddler.
Kurt tried to help them teleport, assuming your child inherited his mutant ability, but as they watched him disappear and reappear, they instead shifted from a red toddler to a blue one, taking on Kurt's appearance if he were a toddler again.
So...great. No teleporting, red skin, and his mother's ability?
He wasn't upset, just...very surprised. His shock made your baby laugh, giggling in amusement as they continued to shift into different appearances.
Not only people, but they could also shift into animals.
The baby did inherit his wall-crawling. You often found them hanging out on the ceiling, hanging from it and chasing each other around on the walls.
You felt a little insecure or worried, thinking Kurt might have some resentment towards you, even though you had zero control over the development and outcome of your child's mutation. Kurt could tell you felt bad, and he always reassured you.
"Mutations are so strange, liebe...please do not fret. I love unser Kind...they certainly were a chock when they came into the world." he teased lightly, kissing your cheek.
Your child was just as mischevious and troublesome during their teenage years. Very rebellious and the complete opposite of Kurt. It was rather entertaining, the two literally opposites in appearance and interests.
Your child took on a lot of bad habits, displaying both Mystique and Azazel's personality more than your own or Kurt's. It was hard to deal with at first, but you figured they were just trying to find themselves.
Your child struggled with identity, (take with that what you will it can be implied with whatever you like!), the shapeshifting and everything else was hard on them. Also the fact that they looked nothing like either of you made it hard. They felt like a red black sheep, and their behavior was just them trying to deal with it.
After you both sat down and spoke to them, you got to the bottom of why. It was an emotional night for you, Kurt, and your child, but it ended in tearful hugs and many 'I love you's.'
Kurt loves your child no matter what they look like and who they decide to me. They will always come home to you and Kurt.
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Thanks for reading.
*BAMF*
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Dividers by @/adornedwithlight
Cover Image: Amazing X-Men (2014) #1
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katboykirby · 1 year ago
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A Case of Cuteness Aggression
CUTENESS AGGRESSION, a superficially aggressive but unharmful behaviour that is instinctive to demons. Demonic cuteness aggression is triggered by the presence of cute things, most commonly humans or occasionally small animals.
Characters: all demons (Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Diavolo, Barbatos, Mephistopheles) SFW
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LUCIFER is the best at controlling his urges. In fact, he didn't feel very much cuteness aggression around you at all in the beginning. Perhaps it was because his work had him seeing you as more of a responsibility than anything else, or because he considered you one of Diavolo's assets that were vital to the success of the Exchange Program. Either way, it took some time for him to start feeling those urges around you. When he finally did realise what he was feeling, Lucifer was reminded very much of the cuteness aggression he'd felt toward many of his little brothers when they were still young. So it should have come as no surprise that he eventually started to feel that way around you, as well. He remains one of the most restrained in his actions, however, and Lucifer only occasionally gives in to his impulses. If you're within arm's reach of him for too long, you might find yourself with Lucifer's hand on the top of your head. He'll press down on the top of your skull with steadily increasing pressure, or maybe he'll rub your head and ruffle your hair without noticing how rough he's being (like he used to do to Mammon and the twins)
MAMMON has absolutely no impulse control at all, so he is on the complete opposite end of the aggression scale as Lucifer. As soon as he'd made his pact with you, all bets were off. Better kiss goodbye to your personal space right now, because Mammon has zero concept or awareness of boundaries. Expect to get tackled in the halls of the House of Lamentation or RAD at any given moment. He's at least careful enough not to actually hurt you, but he's full-body sacked you enough times to send you both hurtling into the floor. He always feels bad afterwards, but apart from a few rug burns you're fine. Please reassure him and tell him that you're okay, otherwise he'll sulk for the rest of the day. It still doesn't stop him though, and Mammon will be back to pouncing on you all over again the very next day.
LEVIATHAN shows signs of his cuteness aggression with fictional characters like Ruri-chan, and even his favourite idols like Sucre Frenzy. But there's a big difference between gushing over what he sees on a screen and gushing over you, and at first Levi was way too nervous and embarrassed to act on his urges. He'd be perfectly happy to squee over you from afar, and at first that's all he does! If you start getting closer to him though, eventually Levi will hit a point where his urges to squeeze you like his beloved Azuki-tan pillow will be stronger than his anxiety. He'll glomp onto you without even noticing what he's doing at first, his arms and legs binding you to his body so tightly it feels like you're trapped in the coils of a massive boa constrictor. And speaking of snakes, is that his tail you can feel wrapping around you, too?
SATAN, much like Lucifer, tries his best to control himself around you. Unlike Lucifer, Satan's cuteness aggression towards you manifested itself almost right away. It takes a hell of a toll on him, trying to restrain himself and not give in to his urges. He'd be absolutely mortified if his brothers saw him cooing and fussing over you like you were a little baby. Luckily, he's had lots of practice controlling himself, thanks to living with his Wrath. Once he's alone with you behind closed doors, though, in the privacy of his bedroom? That's when he lets his stifling self-control go at long last. He treats you much like a kitten during his cuteness aggression episodes, squishing your cheeks and rubbing them with his thumbs. He'll just barely manage to stop himself from babbling at you in baby-talk, but it's much much harder to fight the urge to headbutt you full-on to show you his love
ASMODEUS is another personal space invader. As much as he dislikes being compared to his greedy older brother, Asmo is more similar to Mammon than he might realise. Your personal bubble is his personal bubble, and he's always touching you or caressing you in whatever way he pleases. Unlike Satan, he goes all-in on the baby talk. He loves to cuddle you, sometimes by force, holding you in his arms and refusing to let you go for anything. You permanently smell like sweet roses and sugary perfume thanks to him, and you often find yourself with new accessories and trinkets decorating your outfits after a cuddle session. Sometimes you think you look like one of those little purse dogs, with an absurd bow holding back your hair. Asmo is obsessed with your hair, and he's constantly playing with it. Thankfully, one way that he differs from Mammon is that when you tell him to stop or give you some space, he does so right away without pouting and sulking about it.
BEELZEBUB has to be very careful around you. You trigger his cuteness aggression even worse than Belphie, but Beel knows that he can't be rough with you or use his full strength around you like he can with his brothers. It's easier for him to control himself than it is for Satan, though, and Beel is always good about not going too far. He gives you the biggest bear hugs, squeezing you in his arms and lifting you completely off the ground, until your feet are dangling in the air. He holds you up above his head, grinning happily as he hugs you to within an inch of your life. You usually don't have the heart to tell him to stop (even if it's getting hard to breathe) because he just looks so damn happy. No matter how big or how tall you are, you're still tiny compared to Beelzebub, and he can easily carry you around like a football Fangol ball like it's nothing.
BELPHEGOR doesn't get feelings of cuteness aggression as bad as his brothers, so for a while you thought you were safe. Sorry, but just because his urges aren't as strong as the others (that's just what Sloth is like) doesn't mean he won't get any urges at all. At most, he will pinch you hard. If he's REALLY feeling that itch and you happen to be close by, you'd better settle in for a long stay. Belphie has no qualms about grabbing you and yanking you down into his nap spot, and he's not exactly gentle about it either. He could be innocently sleeping on the couch one minute, then suddenly you're snatched and buried in the blankets with him, and he's using you as his new body pillow. Might as well relax and get some rest, you're gonna be here for a while.
DIAVOLO is in the same boat as Beel, and has to be constantly reminded by both Barbatos and Lucifer that he can't use his full strength around you. Beelzebub has a lifetime of experience holding himself back for the sake of his brothers, but Diavolo does not. So despite his best attempts to be gentle, the Demon Prince is often the roughest with you. Luckily, his restraint is enough that he never actually hurts you, but it's always rather disorienting whenever Diavolo's cuteness aggression takes hold. It doesn't matter where you are, be it a classroom at RAD or the Royal Palace itself, Diavolo has no shame about grabbing you whenever he feels like it and vigorously shaking you. It might feel like your brain it being rattled around inside your skull, but he means well.
BARBATOS is probably the only demon around who bests Lucifer and Satan when it comes to self-control. You will never know what he is thinking or feeling, nor will his expression ever give anything away. However, this does not mean that he is immune to his own demonic instincts. If anything, Barbatos feels a cuteness aggression towards you that is stronger than most. You'll never be able to tell, but whenever he stands quietly at the ready to serve his Young Master, it is always difficult to keep his mind off of you should you be present as well. His face will be calm and unreadable, but behind that placid smile he will be desperately holding himself back. If you were able to read his thoughts, all you would hear is I want to squish them, I want to squish them, I want to squish them, I want to squish them, I want to...
MEPHISTOPHELES likes to pretend that he is above such things, but he's really not. To his credit, he's definitely not as bad as those damnable brothers, and he keeps himself in check as would be expected of a noble demon such as himself. Besides, he can't stoop to the level of Lucifer, just because you're around! He actually does quite well for a long time, mostly due to the fact that you rarely ever directly interacted with him. But that was back then, and recently he's been seeing an awful lot more of you. He knows that Diavolo is fond of you, so he supposes that he'll just have to put up with you - and the irrational, frustrating urges he feels to squeeze your adorable head like a stress ball. Mephisto holds himself together whenever the two of you talk, but as soon as you leave the room he is clawing at the empty air and grabbing at his own cane to furiously shake it like he wishes he could do to you.
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imaginaryf1shots · 1 year ago
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Here For You | Lewis Hamilton
Words count: 1K
Lewis Hamilton X reader (established relationship)
Summery: When Lewis gets a podium and his team is nowhere to be found, but you stand there in a sea of red
Warnings: none
A/N: unedited
it really broke my heart seeing Lewis so alone after the race, the way he sat down waiting for his turn, while Carlando had their teams there. He looked so tired and defeted, thanks to the Ferrari and Mclaren who congratulated him.
Masterlist
Lewis Masterlist
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Singapore 2023, Sunday.
What an intense race, one of the best of the season so far. It was so close from start to finish, those last ten laps had you on your toes in anticipation. Leg bouncing up and down as you stared at the screen, Carlos, Lando, George and Lewis were stuck in a DRS train all for P1, George couldn’t overtake Lando no matter what he did. It’s under a lap left when the younger Mercedes driver drives straight into the barrier, your eyes open in shock, everyone is surprised, disappointment on everyone's faces in the Mercedes garage. Frustrated mechanics and just about everyone. 
Your eyes don’t leave the screen, eyes on your boyfriend, but as the three round the last turn, he couldn’t overtake Lando, but he’s P3. you’re happy for him, so happy. You feel bad for George, he’s been doing amazing through the race, he was doing so good all weekend, and to end it like this breaks your heart. However Lewis is your number one concern, and he made it to podium after so long, and you knew given one more lap he could’ve overtaken Lando for P2. 
Despite having one podium win, the mood in the garage was sombre. Everyone is so upset about George, you bit your lip as you waited for them to go to the barrier under the podium to meet their winning driver but no one made an effort to go and see him, despite them all going to congratulate George the day before when he qualified second. 
You’ve been going to races for years, having been with Lewis a long time and every week you had free of work you were in the country he’s in supporting him every chance, sometimes you’d be there for a day or two, never missing an opportunity to be by his side, and you aren’t about to start now. So after two minutes you decided to just leave the garage, ignoring everyone, you couldn’t even see Toto anywhere. 
Already Ferrari and Mcalren were at the barriers so you’d have to fight your way to the front. The heat had you a little sweaty as you squeezed yourself between the orange and red dressed people around you, trying to be heard as you moved but your voice fell onto deaf ears under the loud sounds and talking. Lucky for you Fred Vasseur Ferrari’s principal saw you struggling, the older man had talked to you multiple times, he and Lewis are on good terms and talk from time to time. He gestures for his team to let you through, and thankfully you make it to the front.
“God! Thank you so much.” You breathe out, huffing, you’re thankful you decided to have your hair in an updo today, feeling the heat from the crowd around you add to the heat of Singapore. 
“It’s okay, it looked like you were about to die in there.” He joked, as you both turned to the front, Lewis was waiting to get weighted, your eyes stayed on him once they found him with a smile on your face as you answered Fred.
“Felt like it.” He laughs and pats your back, you look around the barrier for a moment, once Lewis is on the scale(?). No sign of a single Mercedes team member. 
“What are you looking for?” Fred asks, also looking around.
“Mercedes.” was all you said, the man realises the absence of the team which is very odd. Lewis has been the forefront of the team for years, whether it’s a win or not, they should be cheering for him. 
Lewis takes off his helmet and balaclava, he doesn't see you though. “Lewis!”
You call but your voice get drowned in the other sounds around you, your saving grace comes in Lando, he was walking to the wait for his interview when he saw and heard you, patting Lewis on his arm to get his attention, he points at you. The moment he sees you, you smile so wide at him.
Lewis also smiles, seeing you, when he got out of the car and couldn’t spot you or any of his team he felt crushed, he’s tired the race has been hard and having kept it together the whole race, doing better than the last few weeks, it definitely dampened his mood not seeing his team here for him. Seeing you now however brought him happiness that he’s grateful for. 
Walking you to you, the driver wraps his arms around you, sweat and all, you holding as close as you could through the barrier, you close your eyes getting a tad bit emotional.
“I’m so proud of you my love, you did so great.” Kissing his cheek. Around you Ferrari cheered for you, making you laugh and pull back a little, but Lewis wasn’t ready to let you go yet, he held your arms in his.
“I couldn’t see you when I came in.” He tells you, you give him a sad smile.
“Fred rescued me, was fighting my way through to get to the front.” You say with a small giggle, he once again pulls you in for a second hug. “I love you so much Lewis.”
“I love you too… Thank you for always being here for me.” Lewis says low enough so only you could hear him.
“Always, I’ll always be here for you, you can count on that.” You run your hand up and down his back, hearing Lando do his interview. “It’s your turn soon, I’ll be waiting for you after the podiums.”
Lewis pulls back and quickly picks your lips, it’s rare that he shows PDA but in that moment he couldn’t help it. Lewis is a private man, and he likes to keep anything beyond the surface about the two of you away from the public eyes, so you know that your feed will be filled with edits and screenshots from your moment.
Watching Lewis on the podium with a proud smile you clap and cheer for him, as if it’s your first time seeing him on a podium, celebrating him as if he won a WDC. you couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel so you’d be alone with him and enjoy the night alone, just the two of you.
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ellierenae · 1 year ago
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SUPER UNIQUE writing ideas for hobbyists and professionals looking for fun, personal projects to get their inspo back
get a fictional pen pal (ask your other writer friends!) and spend time decorating envelopes, picking out a handwriting style, maybe buying a cheap perfume/cologne that smells like your character to really get to know them and feel their presence. if you have hand tremors or bad handwriting like me, you can choose a handwriting font for them and print their letters out!! more examples: save the dates, wedding invitations, birthday cards, party invites, etc.
use old calendars in character (there are many "expired" planners on sale around the end of the year, usually August) personally, i use them to record major life events like first band tours, trips abroad, holidays, birthdays... even trash pickup days and when they forget to roll out the bins!
sketch floor plans this can be on graph paper if you have the know-how when it comes to scaling down, but there are also tons of simple apps that allow you to both create the floor plan a builder would use and add furniture like an interior decorator. some even let you rotate them afterwards and see the furniture and walls burst to life in 3D! you can think of them as the sims but where everything is actually to scale
make an architectural model if you have some scrap cardboard, paper, and glue, you can easily bring the floor plan you just made to life (you'll need practice if you want to get really fancy with it of course! window panes and railings are the gnarliest part for me, haha)
make a playlist as your character maybe the most accessible one on this list, you can make the playlist your character listens to. sometimes this can be fun and surprising, like when my little guy Possum from Violence Without Plot is covered in tattoos and plays punk music on stage but listens to nothing but spa music to wind down between shows
write something your character can see this one is so weird to summarize but what i mean is like... a school essay for your teacher character to grade. cryptic street signs warning about danger by the lake. a memorial plaque beneath a statue. a character's online blog. a few of the cards in a grandmother's recipe box. a business card for a smooth-talking lawyer. things you can write that make everything feel so textured and real
these are all things i do on the daily, and it makes my life as a writer a thousand times more joyful and fulfilling. so have fun, be safe, and don't forget to unplug the hot glue when you're done <3
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evilminji · 6 months ago
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I think I figured it out?
My favorite thing to do with Danny? And the Zone in General?
Is to just... zoom out a bit, maybe move stage left, leave the trouble and (most of the) dramatics of his teen years behind and just? Discover that not all of Death is War. Not every Obsession is violence.
Sometimes it's owning a fancy little soaps shop. Or that PERFECT garden of their dreams, where they can share with EVERYBODY, that they could never manage in life. Maybe it's the universe biggest Comics library.
Yeah, when you can't die and pain is kinda subjective, a good ol fashioned brawl IS the best way to communicate. Fist to Fist, ecto to ecto, come out the otherside understanding each other a bit better. But like?
.....you could ALSO just use your damn words, you know? Maybe some of us don't WANT to fight.
The freedom to Do Anything? Means a good chunk of us will say "Nah, we good". And move on to do other, non-violent things! Not every Area of the Zone is the SAME you know. It's like countries. Or, well, Galaxies? Since it IS far more spread out then any country will ever be.
It's why Danny probably didn't notice. Thought his area was all there is. It's the standard "my neighborhood is the default. Normal for everywhere" mindset that people unknowingly tend to have before they travel much. It's not like he had any chance to learn otherwise.
He had school in the morning. Had to stick close in case a fight broke out. How FAR could he truely travel? The end of the metaphorical street? The next block over? The Far Frozen alone was pushing it!
But then! He defeats the Tyrant of his Area of the Zone. And it's like a map filling in, in the back of his head. Perfect outline of what's "his" and "not his". And??? Wait, wut?
Why is he not surprised the Observants fuckin Lied? Pariah wasn't King Of Everything! He was king of... *head starts to violently hurt as he tries to grasp the scale of things* ow, Ow, OW! Bad idea! BAD IDEA!!! A chunk? Yeah, big chunk! Let's go with that!
It was APPARENTLY like saying "ruler of the known world". Other countries very much still existed, just APPARENTLY didn't count. Good to know! AFTER THE FACT.
At least HIS territory likes the "Wooooo! Anarchyyyyyy!" Goverment model. Frees him up to do other shit. He can come back to it LATER. But FIRST? :) Get? :) The FUCK :) Off his lawn! :) *kicks everyone back through the portal* *closes it* AND STAY INSIDE THE ZONE!
Abuse of power? Sorry, he can't hear you over his magically recovering sleep schedule and GPA. The fact he might ACTUALLY graduate. His new favorite past time of watch the GIW slowly losing both their funding AND minds. Mmmmmm~ relaxing!
He graduates.
He is the son of crazy people with a shit GPA. His parents may have finally come around on ghosts, started over on their research... with a frankly ALARMING enthusiasm, but? You can't undo decades of damage. The Fenton name is untouchable.
He applies anyway.
Goes ghost for the first time in over a year.
Is... bigger. Starlight and ice. Royal. It feels right, settled in a way. More HIM then his skin could ever hope to be. He notes it, but doesn't linger. Decides to find out what's OUTSIDE "his" territory.
And...
Huh.
The answer depends?
In one direction? An endless battle. From horizen to horizon, like shooting stars. Crashing and smashing, weapons clanging and ringing. Mad blood stained grins. Worthy opponents. A challenge that goes on forevermore.
He...backs away slowly.
Going sorta, up-ish? Leads to a weirdly muted stillness. Muffled. He can't find anybody. But the doors here are pretty... worn. He doesn't want to keep pushing.
Finally, he tries at an angle to the right. And? Spots a patrol? They look nervous to see him, but hold their ground. He asks what's in this direction. Is polite. They look incredibly relieved.
Which is how Danny? Learns about the SINGLE BEST thing ever. The thing I actively fantasize about. Long for. And gift to him because I can.
Floating island cities FULL of highly specific little shops and passion pursuits. All for damn near free, because they are mostly doing it for THEM and you just happen to be there. The islands go one for days in every direction. Overflow with color and sound and the flash of ghosts flying too and frow.
Stunned, Danny, jaw on the floor. Wanders the streets.
Finds a space themed shop and feels his eyes dilate like a cat. Mine ™. He gets a book on "First Astronaut's of their Species" and some BESPOKE space meme socks. Looks around. Decides that this? This is where his doing ALL his shopping from now on.
He's pretty sure he sees a shop dedicated solely to canned food from across the Multiverse.
There is a sale on corn(non radioactive), apparently.
He tells EVERYBODY. Well, Fenton and friends "everybody". But you get the idea! The shopping trip they organize? Is legendary. His Father finds a Fudge shop and probably scares the local ghost population with his mad Fudge Glee cackling. Mom found a weapon smith. And an old fashion lace maker. Jazz? Lost to the world of intergalactic boy bands and psychology textbooks.
Tucker made a running slide straight for the nearest tech shop. Then the butcher. And Sam?
........m....maybe if he doesn't ask? He can claim plausible deniability?
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @lolottes @nerdpoe
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melodic-haze · 5 months ago
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Hmm i just had a thought about the recent fic w Arlecchino
What if she had a muzzle on w bunny suit🧐
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☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader
☆ — TYPE: NSFW
☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Breeding, size kink, reader has a cock/strap referred to as such
☆ — NOTES: I'm ngl it's been several Arle fics now that idk which one you were on ab but it's okay gwenchana. Anyway you lot really want to breed her huh (same though)
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Good luck convincing Arlecchino to wear a bunny suit actually HAHAHA
She'd do anything for you, really she will!!!! She's so dedicated to you—worshipping you in the same way a diety was meant to be worshipped—that it's actually scary for the both of you, how much of a hold you have on her. But she has some reservations about such a risqué bit of clothing 💀
Not like you blame her though, considering how it wasn't usually her style. Lucky for you, however, YOU get special treatment :3 all it takes is one look at the outfit, one look at her and some time and voila!!! She'll concede—hell, she might even surprise you :3
"You're.. you're sure, right? I know you were kinda against it at first—I feel bad if I ended up forcing you into something you-- mm."
A finger was on your lips, the gesture's message quite clear as your beloved spoke amidst your commanded silence, "I'm sure, yes. I admit I am.. apprehensive, but your longing gaze is more than enough to convince me to, ah.. experiment."
"Really..?"
"Yes. You do not take me for my word?"
"No, I do! It's just..." You huffed out a sigh as you gently took the hand on your lip and took it in your own, "I just don't want you to feel as if you were obligated to entertain my every whim."
You see her eyes soften at your concern and she squeezes your hand as a form of reassurance from your often-so-stoic lover, "You should know better than to believe I would ever compromise my own comfort for something like this."
"And besides," she continues, "surprisingly, I've come to enjoy being.. well, your prey of sorts. Perhaps the outfit may elevate the interest to another level, hm?"
You couldn't help but stare at her, boldness practically radiating off of your lover despite the position you both know she truly holds within the privacy of your bedroom walls. Such boldness prompted an imagined flash of images in your mind—blackened hands all tied up, drool escaping her lips within confining barriers, tears escaping as sinful noises of wet skin-to-skin impact echo along with her moans—and you feel something akin to a hot flash within your core.
Ever so observant, her eyes go half-lidded as she looks up at you, her grin a touch sharper than before, "I see that I have awakened your imagination."
"Maybe."
"You need not imagine it, my beloved." Her voice reduces itself to something of a low purr, "All you need to do is command me, and I will do whatever you wish."
"That's a dangerous promise to make."
"Coming from a dangerous woman such as I, I dare say it balances the scales."
I love dialogue lol anyway tell her to do so and she will do it ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️ and next thing you know you're facing a woman much shorter than you've always known her to be, clad in such a revealing outfit and a muzzle to prevent her from biting so much. She had 'protested' against the latter at first, but you both know from the way that she so very easily accepted such a thing that she was all for the extra torture, not being able to make a mark on you (she forgets that her nails'll probably do the job for her anyway LMAO)
When she's laid out 'helplessly' on the bed as you tower over her, when you put your hand on the flat of her stomach and the both of you see the clear size difference, when you look at her and see so much anticipation and carnal lust practically glazing her eyes? Oh god the both of you KNOW you're not going out this room for a WHILE
She is COMPLETELY at your mercy—you can toy with her all you want, alternating between overstimulation and edging her with whatever is at your disposal until she can't take it anymore so she has to actually beg you to fuck her dumb and reduce all trains of thought into mush. She considers begging as below her, and yet she can't help but let out these reluctant pleas that only seem to gain a more.......willing quality with them in due time. Just make sure to torture her until her composure snaps, giving her her own sort of medicine and having her experience her very own mindbreak through overwhelming pleasure
To see this woman, who is so utterly feared to the point where crowds would part for her in fear that she would plunge her blackened hands into their chest and staining them red, cling to you and hump your cock like a bitch in heat is such a harrowing contrast.......but there is certainly that feeling of something more
Perhaps it's the fact that there was the urge to pin her down into a mating press and stuff her silly until she gets kids on her own ☺️ seeing her take all these children in at the Hearth and not having any herself.....why, for some reason you found yourself feeling like you just had to give her some children of her own. She seems to adore them, so whyever not ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️
Even as dazed-out as she is, she can see something change inside you as your objective goes from fucking her silly to something a lot more feral. Doesn't necessarily help that, yk, you have her in a bunny suit. And yk how bunnies just love to breed
As much as Arlecchino had tried to tell you to slow down for a brief moment, it's as if all noise has been blocked out from your senses, save for the sounds your lover makes and the sinfully wet noises that are produced as you piston into her again and again and again and again.
You roughly pushed her down into the matress, now damp and messy from a mixture of your bodily fluids, as you made sure to bottom out inside her as quickly as you drew back—the harsh assault on her hole had hit spots within her she didn't even realise you could hit, not to mention the force of your movements being more than enough to easily stretch her out and mold her insides to fit you and only you.
It was obvious that there was no way any mercy was going to be given to her. The Harbinger could only lay there and take everything you give her like some kind of fleshlight, the 'fight' within her long gone (if she even had some left in her to begin with).
God I need to separate these bc I can't just choose one thank yew bc both are very very very VERY good
If you had a dick:
You were so utterly determined to fill her and making sure your seed takes by the end of your session. If it meant basting her insides with white-hot cum and having it all stuffed inside her to the point where it has no where to go but out by force, then you'll cum inside her over and over again until you can't anymore.
And when your hand goes to press down on her abdomen, you can see the mixture of cum inside her practically spray out at the edges. She can't take it anymore, even she says so, and yet you can't help but wonder just why is her pussy still milking you as if her life depended on it?
Because she's greedy.
Because right now, no longer was she Arlecchino—she was your very own rabbit, hungry for your potent seed.
If you're using a strap:
You know of your limitations—without anything extra such as magical means, you cannot actually have her bare your children. But whyever would you let that stop you, especially when you had benefits that more than makes up for your lack of organic appendages?
If you had the real thing then you could stuff her silly until it takes (and even beyond that), but one can easily make up for it in other qualities such as size and shape.
And really, whatever's stopping you from filling her to the brim with artificial cum instead?
The world is your oyster, and Peruere was nothing but your very own porcelain fuckdoll at this point.
I need to breed her every which way idc if I don't have a dick, if there's a will there's a way
When she realises what you're trying to do, she can't help that sudden jolt that completely overtakes her—her hips practically shoot from the bed, pushing your cock in even deeper, before you push her back down while she lets out a silent scream. By GOD the fact you want to breed her, fill her, make sure a child of YOURS growing inside her, making a mark beyond just her skin.........oh it gets her going in ways she never would've fathomed before
By the end of your VERY long and productive session, it's VERY clear you've both fucked like rabbits from the mess all over the place and the liquid practically gushing from her abused hole. After everything, you finally take off her muzzle, only for you to lead her drool-coated mouth all the way down to the base of your cock to clean it up. She doesn't even protest either, easily taking it like a good girl and making sure that she does a good job in cleaning you up and finishing you off. All you need to do is plug her up properly, feeling all the cum stuffed inside her through the small pauch of her abdomen, where her womb is 🫶
"..I had known this was a possible outcome, and yet I cannot help but be surprised by your control, or lack thereof."
You groaned, covering your face with your hands as you rolled on your side, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me! You just looked so irresistible and before I knew it I just--"
"Don't take my words as a form of reprimand, darling." You feel her hands take your own from your face, her lips finally kissing them—you—after a long time of having it muzzled, "I enjoyed it. You are already aware of my.. likes and dislikes, especially when it comes to the rougher parts of the activity. I gave you control, and you willingly seized it."
"I guess..."
"And besides," she muses with a small smile on her face, "I am.. not necessarily opposed to the thought of it."
"Of what?"
"Getting bred."
A warm flush spreads through your cheeks as you gave her a light swat, "You! You are so shameless! What happened to being polite and cryptic?!"
"Do we really need such pleasantries by this point? Seeing that you were rather determined to take me all for yourself, after all..."
"Oh my god."
A deep laugh rumbles within her, the sound so rare and precious that you'd want to keep it all to yourself, and you can't help but laugh along with her as you bask in the afterglow. When your laughter settles down, the two of you end up with your legs tangled up together as you lay there in companionable silence.
Though eventually she decides to break it, "Shall I go and run us a bath?"
"You can stand after all that? Geez, seems like I did a bad job," you joked.
Arlecchino huffed out lightly with a smile, "No, you've rendered me utterly near-useless—a feeling that I don't usually enjoy. Yet the fact that I don't seem to mind it all that much should show that you are special to me."
You feel that heat in your cheeks again at the proclamation, "Archons, and when I aim to have you all sappy like that in public you don't even dare move a muscle."
"Time and place, dear. Time and place. Now," she questions again, "shall I run us a bath? We can take care of the mess later."
You nodded, "Mm, if you don't mind then. But can we take it together?"
You see her eyes crinkle, the glow that the red crosses within them softening like a tender flame, "Of course. I shall be back in a few moments, then."
She gets up, and you pride yourself for being the reason why your lover temporarily goes off balance from a sudden tremor in her legs before collecting yourself.. and you can't help but stare at the remaining cum staining the sides of the plug and the apex of her thighs as she walks off.
She doesn't take the plug off when you go and take the bath together. Wonder why 😋
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tarjapearce · 1 year ago
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Ahem-Anon reporting for duty 🫡
I have come with a mighty need. The need is called: dragon miguel and mermaid reader. I mean hmmmggh? So cute? he a firey dragon, she a pretty lil mermaid? He totes call her his sirenita. Total opposites and kinda a forbidden love? A romeo and juliet thing, minius the tragic death ending. And they always secretly meet in a cave (miguel build it so his sirenita can swim there) they decorated it together and it’s just the best of both, their own little world and happy place. And i can’t help but wonder how do they do the 👀👀👀👀 and omg what if he gets her pregnant and all? Like he was away for a few months to defend his territory and she surprises him with her baby bum and its all dragon nest building and him being protective as f. Also scared because damn? This is a first since the beginning of time. Baby Gabi would totes be the first waterdragon 😂
Can I have your imagination borrowed for a second? Please? HOLY fuck. When I read dragon Miguel only reminded me of that beautiful fan art of him as a dragon I saw on Pinterest ♥️♥️. A bit long if you squint.
Crimson. His hands were covered in little crimson stains that oozed from his side. He was... injured.
Impossible.
A dragon? Like him? The King of Dragons. Foolish. But as much as he wanted to shake the measly pain that pulsated every time he moved forward, to the rocky cannon on the forgotten beach, it remained there, etched and oozing.
The cannons were used as his lair, his home. He collapsed on what seemed to be his bed, a l shaped stone that was a few meters away from a small entrance from the sea. Like a secret entrance.
The splashing as he collapsed alarmed him, red eyes shone in anger as a low growl echoed through. And then, his eyes settled on you. Burning eyes softened in curiosity as he saw dainty fingers peeking behind a stone, your eyes settled on him, watching his every move.
Was he hallucinating? No.
He certainly wasn't because the creature stared at him, more specifically to his wound. You went back on the water, long fish-like tail, shining softly, like if the rainbows had decided to adhere in your scales.
A mermaid?
He believed them extinct. Humans had surely haunted everything they could lay their wretched hands on.
A few moments later, the splashing returned, this time you weren't hiding behind the rock. You were before him, naked torso, wet hair stuck on your back. Hands holding what it seemed to be a moss-like plant within a shell. You offered. He frowned.
Why would he trust her? for all he knew Mermaids were also wretched creatures that lured men to death. But your frown matched his, like you had you just read his thoughts.
"Your blood will only attract other creatures that won't be as kind as I am" You mumbled. His eyes widened slightly. Of course you could speak. His blood dripped on the water and you scrunched your nose, pushing the shell further near him.
"You're welcome" you giggled and went back from where you came.
--------
Ever since that encounter, Miguel would certainly find subtle ways to lure you back to him. He surely wasn't inmune to mermaid beauty, his trust issues however made always to look past your looks, he wanted to find out what your intentions were, why you were always willing to just stare at him, expecting to something to happen, why would you always come back.
"Im just curious as to why I have been forbidden to mingle with the creatures above. You aren't that bad."
You'd smile sweetly at him to look back at the water.
"I gotta go. Will I see you again?"
He'd just nod and you disappeared.
His injury had been long healed. A couple of hours after you had offered the moss actually.
--------
He'd see you again and again, almost every day, a weird sort of fear settled in his chest whenever you didn't show up for more than three days. You had created this sort of routine where you would just show up, staring at eachother until one of you, (you mostly of the time) asked for questions.
What was up there on land? Was there a lot of humans? Who was he? Why was he hiding? Patiently he'd explain through short answers just to see the glint in your eyes at every word that came from his mouth.
Three days had passed, no sign from you, until you'd appear again, cuts and wounds covering your body, sweet scented blood oozed from your cuts, too tired to remain conscious.
Humans. They had tried to hunt you.
He'd pick you up and put you to safety, your torso resting in the sand. A few droplets of his blood wetted your lips. You'd be fine when he'd return. He turned on his back, rage boiling as the beast within him roared to be set free. He flew away with a new target on sight. The docks.
----
You were his adoration. Despite the world trying to hurt you, you remained kind, ever sweet and curious. You were his Sirenita.
He'd burn entire ships for you. The world itself if you asked him nicely enough. Dragon's nature prevented him to share with others. Not that he wanted to share you with anyone else anyway. It was only you and him.
The first kiss held so much passion, sweetness and longing. You couldn't lay in his lap without feeling dizzy by the lack of water after a few minutes. A trouble that seemed a big impediment to completely have you for himself.
He disappeared with the promise of coming back.
Was he?
You didn't know but hope set in your heart. He had never broken a promise so far.
----
Upon his return he gave you a small potion jar, you drank it after he explained what would it do. Bit by bit fins and scales were shedded from you, melding into humanoid like features, only to finally reveal supple and unmarred human legs and feet.
You were now also part human. He kissed you, cradling your wobbly body on his strong arms.
----
You mated almost every night, the once hidden cannon on the beach, forgotten, as he had taken you to his real home. Hidden away in the mountains, but close enough to the sea to sate your need of swimming and dive. You could shape-shift at will. But preferred to be with him, nesting in his arms.
-----
You'd notice your belly expanding and getting rounder by each month. He had noticed too. The urge to devour and crush anyone who trespassed in his home had only turned stronger, making his dragon form to become more vicious to the outside, yet careful to not being discovered.
Miguel would feed you, take care of you until a baby was born. It was a girl.
He was The Dragon King. And now a father.
A clueless one if you might add.
He'd flinch when tiny baby arms would flail to take a hold of him. He'd growl whenever said baby wailed at night, interrupting his rough mating with you. Strangely enough, his daughter only quieted down when he held her or you nursed her.
----
He'd marvel with pride as his daughter swum through the waters, faster than a ship could ever do. But of course the three would remain hidden from the world. Away from prying and wretched hands that could hurt you.
You both were his treasure. The things he held dear the most.
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adventuringblind · 1 year ago
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Don't leave me
Max Verstappen x reader, platonic Oscar piastri/Lando norris/ Charles Leclerc x reader
Genre: angst
Request: Yes, and I'm litterally in love with this piece
Summary: they are basically her brothers. They would do anything for each other. Max, even more so after realizing he loves her. He'd take a bullet for her if it meant keeping her safe. Too bad she beats him to it.
Warnings: graphic description of injuries and gunshot wounds. Blood, panic, live shooter.
Notes: written in third person
Masterlist
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It's funny in this sport how friendships work. Your closest bonds are with your rivals. You grow up together racing if your trying to get noticed.
That's how the five of you were able to get close. Charles and Max met early on. They're pratically the same age, only a month separating them. She met them at several races, and things with them just stuck. Lando and her are the closest in age, meaning they were often in the same division for Karting. He, however, was able to get his spot in formula 1 faster than her. Leaving her in formula two for a year longer until she could join the three boys at the top. Oscar was a mystery. It helped that she and him were teammates for a season in formula 2. They got close during that time.
Now they are all together in Formula 1. Racing side by side. Making bets about who will win each race. Though nobody bets now because it's always Max. His domination insane so far this season.
They had created their own little dysfunctional family. She kept the boys in line, and they were definitely willing to fight anyone who touches her.
Max was a wildcard. She crushed on him growing up and never expected he would like her back. He had tired just confessing to her with words. His attempt went sideways quickly. Then he'd kissed her. After their last race of her rookie season.
He wasn't expecting her to kiss back and was pleasantly surprised when she did.
Both Charles and Lando were not surprised. However, they still sat him down like overprotective fathers and lectured him about how they wanted him to treat her properly.
And he has. It's been wonderful.
Oscar joining your small family this year added to the fun. Him and Lando get on well and the other three are just glad his calm aura can get the Brit to tone down if need be.
Max is now a two-time world champion and well on his way to a third. She couldn't be prouder of him, and the rest of her boys for that matter.
This race specifically, she's charing the podium with them. Max first, Lando with a shocking second, and her ending in third.
Charles owes her dinner now. He didn't think the McLaren upgrades would be so drastic.
The trophies are now being handed out. hers first. She lifts it up and smiles at the crowd.
She notices something odd, though. Some of the crowd is ducking and running away from the podium. Specifically from someone clad in black with a firearm aimed at Max.
Her body reacts quicker than she can think her actions through. Her legs are scaling the podium, throwing her body in front of Max to get him out of the way.
The shot rings out as they tumble to the ground together. A mess of limbs on the top step. She spots Lando dropping to the floor at the noise, and for a minute, she thinks it was him who was hit.
Her ears are ringing, and her breath is heavy. The faint sounds of yelling can be heard in the background. Max is saying something to her that she can't make out. Her only concern being that he's okay.
Questions about his safety and eyes scanning over his body to assess the damage. A brief moment of relief settles over her as she sees nothing wrong with him.
Max looks concerned, though. He's saying things to her she can't hear. Lando is next to him in seconds.
Then, the burning registers. Max's hands pull away from the side of her chest, and they are covered in glossy crimson. Coughs wrack through her. Uncontrollable and painful. The taste of copper filling in over her tongue.
Max is trying to keep her awake. He's begging her to keep her eyes open. Lando is shoving his hands over the wound. She can see tears running down his cheeks.
"I'm glad you're okay." Are the last words she manages before the pain gets too much. Black spots dance across her vision. She tries her best to focus on Max. Her lovers eyes refusing to leave hers.
She slips away into the blissful, pain-free feeling of unconsciousness.
~
Max is screaming in Dutch now. The crowd running away or being escorted out beneath him. Lando is next to putting pressure over the gaping hole in her chest.
The shot was meant for him.
He tries not to think about it as he attempts to keep himself grounded and his lover coherent.
Charles and Oscar are working to fight their way up to them. Their team and security held them back and haul them away to somewhere safe. Max can perfectly make out their shouts of protest.
Lando is next to try and get him off the bleeding female. Paramedics are now here to do their job, but he can't let go. Lando is forcing him his hands away, his hands keeping Max firmly placed on the ground as they haul her away.
He's screaming now. Both boys are covered in blood that isn't their own.
Oscar and Charles are finally freed and they are sprinting to the podium. The two arrivals attempting to console their friends.
~
The wait in the hospital is long and anxiety ridden. Max can feel the guilt eating him alive.
Him and Lando have long since cleaned their hands. The nurses let them wash themselves when they got to the hospital.
Charles has been attempting to console max. Reminding him that it isn't his fault and that she'll pull through. Their girl is a fighter.
Oscar has been attempting the same for his teammate. The Brit having gotten sick from the image replaying in his head.
It's hours until they are allowed to see her.
Even then it’s not much help. She’s breathing, but she’s not awake.
Max stays with her for days before Charles finally convinces him to go shower and eat a proper meal. Promising to watch her for him and let him know if anything changes.
He's grateful for Charles and is greatfull for the McLaren boys who have been dealing with the press.
He feels refreshed when he comes back, but the guilt is still there. It should be him lying in her place. It should have been him moving her out of the way.
It's the way Charles is trying to get his attention as he sits there crying. The Monegasque tapping his shoulder repeatedly. Yet Max can't bring himself to look at him.
It's been weeks now. The FIA had just announced they'd be racing again next weekend. The security is apparently being much better now. He resents them for not having sorted it out earlier and allowing someone with a gun into the race.
Charles is tapping more furiously now. His hand is now gripping Max's shoulder. Frustration boils up inside of him. He snaps his head towards the Ferrari driver but is met with your open eyes when he does so.
"I'm going to get a doctor." Whispers Charles.
The girl in the bed is disoriented but still trying to say his name. He can see the pain in her eyes. She is trying to hide it and put on a brave face, but it's obvious to him.
Max doesn't hold his tears back any longer. He sobs as he places gentle kisses to her knuckles. "I thought I lost you." He chokes.
The face that she can smile right now is a testament to her strength. She's being strong for him, and he knows it.
She moves closer to him despite the pain and wipes his tears away. "No need to cry, you're not losing me so easily."
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lokideservesahug · 21 days ago
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A not so Unexpected Crossover
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Notes: This is a second part to this fic and I'm glad people liked it. :) And I anyone asks, this came out a month and a half ago. Cheers (I haven't written in weeks).
Warnings: None that I can see
Summary: Despite what they may try and claim, next to no one is convinced that tennis superstar Carlos Alcaraz and F1 rookie Y/N Y/L/N aren't dating.
-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-
Ynupdates
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Ynupdates: Not going to comment on the rumours until anything is confirmed but I have a load of new followers so here is a quick intro to Y/N for those of you that have only just come across her!
Liked by carlitosalcarazz and 1,425 others
View all 234 comments
User1: Oh Carlos Alcaraz, I get you now😫
↳ User2: No fr because I too would act up if I knew a woman like THAT
↳User3: You only see it now!?!?!?
↳User1: Sorry😔
User4: When was that radio message omd!?!?
↳User5: I think in Canada before he DNFed...
User6: Carlos in the likes thinking he's sneaky...🤨
↳User7: I thought I was the only one that noticed lmao
↳User8: Let him be. He needs to check in with his gf somehow😔
User9: That radio message, that gorgeous photo of Y/N, Carlos liking. Gosh this is the gift that keeps on giving!
Liked by creator
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
Following the unfortunate result of the competition of stars and stripes that begins with a U (that you've vowed not to mention for the sake of your boyfriend's mental health), you've been fortunate enough to have spent a lot of time together recently. However, it also means he's had a lot of free time, enough to finally come and watch an F1 race in person.
You see him pre-race, looking truly delectable in that white shirt, Unsurprisingly looking at Fernando's car (you're half convinced you're only dating because of your ties to Fernando). You and the older Spaniard both Qualified P6 and P7 respectably and you're felling pretty happy with the result. You pretend not to notice Carlos' gaze as he looks at you, a few metres behind next to Nando's car. Goodness knows if you started looking you wouldn't be able to stop and you don't need another media frenzy at the moment. You shake your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts and instead focus on your engineer's words. Pretending that your boyfriend isn't a few metres away, looking like he's ogling at you.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
Not that anyone cared to notice, but Carlos Alcaraz was perfectly content to follow his girlfriend anywhere. Even if it meant he ended up slightly lost in a sea of people during the grid walk but oh well. And even if no one knew his was following his girlfriend...
Fortunately enough for him, he had watched Formula 1 for long enough to recognise the telltale greeny-blue of the shimmering Aston Martins making up the 3rd row (and his tik tok feed was flooded with edits and videos of you, leading to him making a hefty folder of every one he found).
Despite the fact that the pit lane had opened a minute or so again, you hadn't quite reached your grid spot. Fernando however had. Carlos catches Fernando's eyes and he gives the younger man a nod. They'd met over Summer when the two of you were visiting his family. A short text exchange with Fernando led you to surprising him with meeting one of his childhood heros.
He's cut from his thoughts by the sound of another engine pulling up not far behind him. He turns only to watch you emerge from your car, pulling off your helmet and balaclava. Carlos' jaw drops and he watches as you walk off to the side (looking so incredibly good in his humble opinion).
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
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You step out of your car, grinning under your helmet. A P2. Not bad in the tractor that you're driving at the moment. You can barely hear yourself as the Fia representative shows you to the scale. You look around and it finally sinks in who you lost to. And gosh, you can be upset at coming second to Charles Leclerc in Imola?
You take your helmet of and pull your balaclava off. You give Charles a pat on the back and a big grin as you both get ready for the post race interviews. He whispers a small "Well done." Before walking off.
You can't help it but your attention is drawn to your team. Not that you'll admit it but your eyes scan the masses in an attempt to search for the faces there (or more particularly, one specific face). You don't have much time to linger though before Oscar is gently urging you to go and fill out your post race duties. You oblige because heck, you'll have a better view of your boyfriend's presumably smiling face on the podium regardless.
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You pull him into your drivers room. "Do you not care if someone sees?" You kiss down Carlos' neck. His words make you pause and pull away to meet his familiar brown eyes. "Carlos Alcaraz Garfia. Please don't tell me that you saw someone see us and didn't think to tell me." He just smirks and shakes his head. You mumble out a small curse and pull his lips to yours. "Gosh you're so infuriating."
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You have a cunning plan. One that might make your boyfriend a bit stressed just for your entertainment but at least it would be amusing. You walk info the bedroom, finding him lying down, scrolling through his phone. He looks up at the cluck if the door and you try your hardest to paint an expression of seriousness. He instantly picks up on your 'mood' and sits up straighter. "Is something wrong mi vida?" Rhe sympathy in your tone almost makes you feel guilty for what you're about to do...
Key word: almost.
You shake your head and let in a false anxious sigh. You let your voice quiver as if yoh were overwhelmed with emotion. "Jane..." You sniffle and Carlos' brows furrow as he steps out of bed to come to your side. He puts his arm around your waist and rubs your shoulder in a comforting gesture. He waits paitently to finish. "Jane said that someone saw us yesterday... and." You drop your head forward as if you qrrr going to cry but instead try to fight back giggles.
Carlos golds you tighter and you can all but her his confused expression. "mi amor, are you ok?" His tone becomes even more concerned and that's that's it takes for you to start giggling. Carlos, however mistakes your shaking figure as sobbing and goes to comfort you even more before he's stopped by a particularly loud laugh. He steps back slightly, leaving you to bend over in laughter. "Wait a minute..."
You try and speak through your laughs. "I'm sorry. I just-" "You scared the life out of me mujer descarada." (cheeky woman). You apologise yet again and just pass your phone wordlessly to him as your laughter finally dies down. He skims the screen for a moment only to lower your phone and meet your eyes with a massive grin. "Are you serious?" You just nod to which Carlos waraps you in a big hug. You Leck give lips slightly as tou pull away and Carlos smirks. You tilt your head at his peculiar behaviour. "I just have to excited which photos I'll post for the occasion." Your eyes widen. "Carlos, no..." You need to be sensible. This time, Carlos laughs and walks away from you. You chase after him with a string of "Carlos, don't you dare." and similar sentiments.
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Carlitosalcarazz
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Carlitosalcarazz: Dos años de relación con esta mujer. A pesar de que a veces me dé un susto de muerte, no la cambiaría por nada del mundo. Te amo, mi amor.
(Two years strong with this woman. Depsite the fact that she may scare me half to death sometimes. I wouldn't change her for the world. I love you my darling.)
Liked by yourusername, Janiksinner, Fernandoalonso and 1,878,097 others
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User1: Told you, I told you
↳User2: Your honour can I milly rock?
User3: "Finally, we all say in celebration."
↳User4: "Finally", U think we might be 2 years too late.
User5: Didn't believe this until the last photo and that really is Carlos!!!
↳User6: Fr. Their constant denying has given me trust issues. 😭
Yourusername: Who knew you were such a sap?
↳Carlitosalcarazz: Meee🥰
↳User7: Oh gosh, simp Carlos. What are we going to do?
↳User8: You're all acting like he wasn't a simp before they even came clean about their relationship lol.
Liked by creator
Fernandoalonso: Well done to the both of you, more happy times to come in the future💪
↳Yourusername: Thank you Nando :)
↳User9: Peepaw agrees ladies and gents so all is alright!
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Yourusername
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Yourusername: I've never done this before but here we go. Carlos, the past few years with you have been a blast. Its been the most incredible time of my life and I can't wait to spend the rest of my days with you (even if you do half expose our relationship at Wimbledon...
Liked by: Carlitosalcarazz, Fernandoalonso, Astonmartinf1 and 1,876,986 others
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User1: Y/N... What is that first photo?😭
↳Yourusername: Payback for the main that revealed our relationship 🥰
↳Carlitosalcarazz: Mi vida, I've already apologised 😔
↳Yourusername: 😤 (It gave us an excuse to hardlaunch so it's fine...not that I can stay mad at you for long).
User2: They've been public for 2 minutes and my parents are already fighting😔
↳User3: At least it's in jest. It clearly comes from a place of love... at least I think it does
↳Yourusername: Of course it does!
User4: Ooomf on twitter being right about this was not on my bingo card
↳User5: SUCKS. IT WA SON MINE AND WE FINALLY GOT Y/LCARAZ!!!!!!
↳User6: You could at least try to sound excited 🙄
User5: 😐
User7: This before GTA 6 is wild
↳User8: No one cares about gta. This is much more culturally significant!!!!
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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!
Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj and of course, a special tag for @yungbludz
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dailycass-cain · 10 months ago
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As promised many months ago to end this day, here's a 🧵of the insanity Cassandra Cain's "human" body can do due to what David Cain put her through (besides the two obvious ones of body language and various forms of killing he trained her in).
The best issue that showcases that is of course Batgirl Vol. 1 #14 where various government agencies look at the footage Cass got caught filmed in.
The first few pages are literally showcasing how inhuman, but still bordering on human she is due to what David Cain put her through.
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This is always fully covered throughout Batgirl Volume 1 and is usually forgotten when writers and editors tend to have their job. Not saying any names or storylines of any RECENT kind where a WAR broke out in GOTHAM.
is still salty YES
We've seen Cass's speed all the time throughout the Puckett run. To just showcase the prior issue's bullet dodging or her issue of Tim (#18) be child's play (along with her taking several shots up close and dodging each one from a certain corrupt government bastard).
Nah the best example of Cass's true "speed" is in #34 facing the mob boss Ving and his gang.
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Yeah, you're seeing that right she is faster than a freaking bullet. Surprising how SOME seem to forget that in other comics. 🙄
Something even Batgirls remembered (#15) when Cass was playing shogun dodge with Cluemaster who was trying to shoot her with a shotgun.
But what of Cassandra's strength? Just how strong is she really?
#19 where Cass is faced with the obstacle of three-inch quartz preventing her from escaping a gas chamber. So let's examine just how thick three-inch quartz is.
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Well, let's google just that.
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A SEVEN on the hardness scale. Further research says that it can only crack due to "extreme impacts" which wouldn't ya know:
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As for her body itself, Batgirl/Ghost: The Ressurection Machine #3 suggests this about Cass being immune to A LOT of poisons:
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Something Batgirl Vol. 1 "sort of" delves in #50 when both she and Bruce are doused with a new batch of super drug but it turns out they were both immune to it due to them being built differently than normal humans.
This is all the more surprising because a few issues prior to (#46) Cass is doused with a version of it, but you could say given what she "sees" Cass is under A LOT of stress (the building tension with Bruce, Babs breaking up with Dick, Superboy/Black Wind stuff). Plus she does "sort of" snap out of it to beat the bad guys in that issue.
Just like in #51 she avoids the pheromones to Poison Ivy even though she is showing signs of falling under the hormones but snaps out of it due to willpower (something Bruce was almost succumbing to before he fully snapped out of it too).
It really feels like "this anti-poison" ability Cass had was all but forgotten once the series ended. Of course, naturally with a certain "infamous" story ONE YEAR LATER, but also Batman & Robin Eternal as she is affected by Fear Toxin (among other stuff too).
#9 & #59 showcase that David Cain shot Cass regularly so much that she can not even feel it. This could explain also HOW she was eventually able to dodge bullets and become so fast.
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#22 also showcases this as well so this is not something simply just randomly put in. This was something the writers wanted to show the sickening lengths David Cain put Cass through.
Again, #14 brought up Cass's metabolism and how off the charts it was. I think something we just overlooked is that in #26 Cass slept for 20 hours a day for four days (or perhaps longer) straight until she fully recovered from fighting Lady Shiva.
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That's not even going under the amount of food she consumes. This little detail was first showcased in #39 when Cass ate like she was freaking Goku.
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This little bit of detail was brought back in #66 when she ordered THREE burgers (I'm assuming with everything on it) with three sides of fries and a BIG milk.
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Amusingly, this detail was recently brought back in Nightwing #106 & #108 where she FEASTED on who knows how many pancakes.
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Lastly, I feel this bit is worth mentioning as well from #47 with Doctor Lewis Friedman who started the theory on body language that David Cain made a frightening reality with Cass (shame he was never brought up again after this issue).
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All this isn't even counting on the extremely LONG hours of shower time Cass picked up in the Gabrych run that even Willingham's Robin (which went on during this) teased (something again Batgirls kept up on).
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So there you have it. The utter anomaly that is the body of one Cassandra Cain.
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draconic-absurdism · 2 months ago
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DESPERATE MEASURES
Story below the cut
An image of a doorway flutters in hir mind as ze shimmies upward ever further, nearing the flattening of the smooth linoleum pane, nearly teetering off the edge. And as hir vision blurs again, surely ze will fall. The wall, crisp and cold, audibly clacks, a desperate grasping with useless hooven fingers, tinged with a pulling at hir fuzzy chest as ze slides hirself up. There's no railing, nothing to grip.
Falling wouldn't be so bad, really. It never is, here in this place. Clouds roll on and on. It's comforting, almost, breaking barriers that, in a sense, are physically impossible, over and over again. To rely on something that contradicts nature. Or is it that nature itself is contradictory?
But ze's never made it quite this far before. As hir fingers crest the corner, ze pulls hirself up, slipping a final time before maneuvering one hoof onto flat land. But as ze huffs in relief, the image flickers again, and hir heart recoils into itself in horror as it realizes the door ze pictures has no stairway leading up, no clouds, no bluish tinge left to the sky. This is all wrong. How hadn't I realized?
Maybe this isn't the end of the path. But ze manages to arch hir head back far enough to get a glimpse up at the endless vertical stretch of the architecture, absurd in its scale, vanishing up into a single point in space beyond a layer of clouds so far up that they may as well have been pixels on a screen, and ze sees that this is indeed the wrong place and the wrong time.
I'm going to give up again. I'm going to stop trying again. It wasn't so bad in the water, floating around on the surface but never really breaking through. But even as ze mutters to hirself, the truth of the matter has already been decided, and bile rises in hir throat as ze realizes that an attempt at something so futile as this may not be worthwhile. Or maybe it is. Either way, in the end, you find that despite how gratingly alone you may feel, you aren't in solitude nearly as often as you think you are.
"Come up with me." The voice isn't startling. It's always a new one, but it says the same thing. It's the tone that really gets to hir. Sometimes sincere and sometimes otherwise, not like ze can ever tell the difference regardless.
"No," ze retorts, letting one hoof slip back down the slope.
The creature's slit eyes open up in what appears to be genuine surprise. "Oh."
"You can't help me. I'm in the wrong place."
"I don't think so."
'You don't get to tell me if I am or not."
"That's true...."
It's a nonsense conversation, the dragon lacking the entirety of context surrounding the boar's circumstances. Even if the discussion persisted for quite a while, it wouldn't understand beyond what is mostly universal, would it? But to say anything actually true to hirself would be to risk a level of vulnerability that ze's never quite known how to reign in. If it was called small talk, why did it always feel like hir lungs were set ablaze? A surface tension that can't be broken.
"...I can take you back down, then. So you don't have to fall, at least."
The offer almost makes hir laugh. Almost. "Frankly, I'd rather you just eat me at this point."
"Sure." It opens its maw.
The boar is genuinely surprised to have met someone who picks up on jokes even less often than hirself. Ze goes to scratch hir chin before realizing with a start that ze's still in a rather precarious situation, straightening up hir spine and smooshing her chest back up against the wall.
At some point in the moment of silence that follows, the dragon realizes its mistake and snaps its jaws shut with an audible clack. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."
This time, the boar really does laugh. "You're fine."
Though the massive reptile's neck quickly disappears into a thick layer of fluffy white cumulus clouds, most of its body completely out of view, the boar gets the sense that its claws are shuffling uncomfortably in the grass so far below. The silence flows through both of their lungs on the next inhale, and the boar scoots up to stand along the edge of the flat plane, where there's a bit more room to shift around.
"I like the sound your hooves make," the dragon huffs.
"Oh, thanks. I liked the click of your teeth."
"Thanks."
There's another ten seconds or so of silence, and the shifting of the beast's claws grows slightly audible. But at least to the boar, it's not an uncomfortable silence, not really. Something about this thing in all its absurdity, its sheer size, the sharpness of its bladed face juxtaposed with its awkward expression, its fangs that jut out and give it a bit of a lisp, is really likable.
"I'm afraid that I like you." Why did I say that? What a stupid thing to say. You don't just tell people you like them. I wish you could.
"You don't have to be afraid of something like that," the dragon replies. This answer, while comforting, isn't convincing.
"I definitely do."
"You don't scare me."
"I'm not scary. I just like people a lot, but I'm not really good at showing it. I haven't had that many friends before, so I don't know how it works. I don't know how to connect with people, I don't know what I'm meant to say most of the time. Every version of myself that I've been before this very moment has been masked by some sort of complacency, some sort of veil of attempted normalcy that plagued me so deeply that I'd lost myself. And now I'm unpacking all these feelings I'd been trained to veil, and I don't know what to do with them. I'm not trying to complain or sound pathetic, it's not a self-pitying thing. I honestly like myself quite a bit, I just don't think I'm equipped for any of the situations I find myself in. I don't feel like the reality I was born into is one I can navigate so easily."
"Despite that, you've survived," says the dragon. "Though, you're kind of holding yourself back, don't you think?"
"Maybe so." I think of it just then, I think of what I have to do. It's the only way, really. Something I'd often been too stuck in my own head to ever really consider, and even on the rare occasion that I had, it didn't work out right. But the only way to find out if this time would be different is to try, and so I do. "Would you like to go sit on a rock with me somewhere?"
"A rock?"
"Yeah. Like, granite or something."
"I would love to. But um." The dragon shifts once more, this time with a bit more purpose as it leans in toward the boar. "I would still have to carry you. To get anywhere that has rocks, I mean."
"Oh." Ze hadn't really considered that, but the possibility of lounging in a dark enclosed space for a while was indeed enticing. "Yeah, that works."
"Anywhere that has rocks?"
"Anywhere that has rocks, yeah. Like a river or a forest or anything is fine, as long as we can both sit comfortably." The boar steps forward, a little cue that ze hopes might prompt the dragon, once again, to open up. Ze supposes its silly to rely on such things at this point. This, clearly, isn't someone who communicates through that muddling series of subtleties, a song and dance for which ze hadn't ever been quite able to get the footwork down, and yet would still attempt at times for the sake of acting as some sort of social chameleon.
It takes a second for the cue to click, or maybe the dragon is just unsure what to do with the near complete freedom of location. Eventually, it realizes it's time to go and opens its maw back up, and for the first time, the boar is able to see what's inside. To really see what's inside. Teal-green flesh and gums, metallic and slightly glittery in texture, accented pale minty green razor sharp teeth. A few are messy and chipped. And with that, the surface tension is broken, and the fluid of the beasts tongue engulfs hir, the wetness seeping into hir fur fully, not simply bouncing off. At first the sensation, alien and new, is unpleasant, and as ze squishes up against the beasts tongue as it closes its jaws around hir, ze shifts along the muscle and adjusts until a pattern settles. The grumbling of the great beast's throat as it lifts off. The relief of no longer teetering on that ledge as ze had so many times before. The fear that this might not last, that any expression of seeking longevity could come off as a bit too much for someone ze'd just met.
Though they hadn't just met, really, as ze recalled all the times before that the dragon had perched along that very ledge. Had it been the same one? Sometimes, probably. Not every time. This didn't really feel new, but it certainly felt more comfortable than times prior. Perhaps to credit this change to the dragon wasn't quite right. Perhaps it was hir own willingness to be vulnerable and ask the risky questions that rewarded hir with an experience that, while not new, didn't feel so scary this time. It feels stupid to admit that to myself in a way. I'd known all along that this would yield better results, so why, pray tell, was I so terrified? Why am I still so terrified?
Hir stomach drops as the beast's wings flap and it picks up speed, soaring through the endless sky, but its head stays mostly steady. And just as hir eyes begin to adjust to the darkness and the ridges along the roof of its mouth gleam a deep emerald jewel tone through the blackness, a beam of light shoots in with a gush of cold wind. The beast's teeth crack open just a bit, just enough to let the clouds enter its mouth and fill the space with dense fog, drenching hir in mist, the heat of the beast's body and the frost of the outside air swirling as one force of nature. The sensation reels through hir, and ze shudders as the beast's taste buds run along hir forearms. After it begins to run a bit cold, the teeth clack shut once again and dark warmth falls in again, that clicking sound of the sets of bones interlocking tingling in hir ears.
Something profound occurs to hir almost every day, it seems, and yet such things make progress only towards goals intangible to others. Something that lives in hir head and slams on a pane of glass and begs to be heard, but out loud it just sits there staring and waiting for an opportunity, waiting to be served something on a platter that isn't coming.
"I've known you for a long time, I think. I love you," says the boar. "I just want to tell you that, in case things go wrong somewhere down the line. I want you to know that, at least now, in this moment, I love you."
The dragon tries to respond, but finds that moving its tongue jostles the boar far too much, so it resorts simply to hugging the tiny creature with its tongue, curling each side up around hir body as a warm, wet blanket.
The silence is welcome this time.
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commsroom · 4 months ago
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honestly, i wonder a lot about eiffel's past relationships, when 1) the way he describes his relationship with kate gives the impression it was intense and burnt out quickly (though i can definitely imagine they were very on-again-off-again for quite a while as well), 2) if we go by gabriel urbina's estimate that he imagined anne was about ten by the end of the show, eiffel was about 23 when she was born. they broke up before anne was born, and i don't think they were ever together again after (i would imagine kate was probably adamant about that, and about prioritizing anne's well-being), but eiffel was obviously still in her life, in some capacity, until kate got full custody.
eiffel's got that line in a matter of perspective: "i've been awake for twenty-six hours straight, half of it because i've been sitting by the phone waiting for a call that never came. it's like my teenage love life played out on an intergalactic scale." and while it's a self-deprecating joke, it's probably not... entirely untrue about his dating life in general? we know why his relationship with kate was toxic (the implications of "things get real sid and nancy" speak volumes), and eiffel strikes me as the kind of person who prefers emotional intensity to casual indifference, even if it's terrible for everyone involved. i don't like to lean too much on things the writers have said - not least because gabriel urbina has been very clear that nothing that isn't in the show is strictly canon - but this is all speculation anyway, and the idea that eiffel was a "tv is my parent" kid who grew up unsupervised has always explained a lot about him, to me.
kate is his most significant ex because she's the mother of his daughter, obviously, but i'd be surprised if there were many other people he was that involved with for... a long enough period of time. like, don't get me wrong, i think eiffel has had plenty of hookups, one-or-two-dates, and even ex-girlfriends, but these aren't people who stay in his life; he comes on too strong for casual and doesn't have the day-to-day stability for someone who wants commitment. he's a lonely, stimulation-seeking person - he was a teenager who didn't have luck in love, and then a young adult who made a lot of bad choices (and didn't maintain any stable friendships), and then just... kinda a guy with a lot of baggage. a lot of things just kind of fizzle out because he assumes disinterest from people who don't meet him with that immediate intensity, or, otherwise, he says he's fine keeping things casual, but then he hooks up with someone once and he gets weird whenever he sees her from then on like, wow, crazy that you're here and i'm here... just two people who are both here... hanging out... like friends do. yup. and he tries to put his arm around her and she blocks his number.
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