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sashi-ya · 10 months ago

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𝑶𝑹𝑨𝑳 𝑭𝑰𝑿𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵. Roronoa Zoro x f! reader

🕊️ request: anon ⋆｡˚ hii sashiii I was wondering for ur jan events week if u could maybe write something with fem!reader with zoro?? like maybe 69 position or ass eating, I hc him as an ass man lol also he’s kinda rough hehe please and have a good week!! 🫶 🕊️ tw: mdni. modern au. zoro is a gym instructor/personal trainer. oral sex. 69. rough sex. face fuck. wc: 1,7k 🕊️ masterlist

You are never sure which are exactly the muscles you train the most when you do it with Roronoa Zoro. Whether it is your body’s, or your mouth’s. You, in any case, don’t mind… as long as your lips can surround his shaft, and your walls end up pleasantly stretched..

A drop of sweat runs through your temple, it slowly snakes down your mandible and into your neck. The more pull ups you do, the more you feel like your muscles burning. Your arms are sore, but you keep going.

“If you do two more series, I will fuck you harder this time” he said. And you are willing to have your personal trainer reward your efforts.

You grunt, pushing a little bit further to finish the series. You watch him through dizzy sight, sitting with his legs spread right in front of you and his back against the mirror of a lonely gym.

“Keep going” he orders.

“I… I am… I can’t-“ you stutter. You should have known; he always does this to you. He wants you to do more, and more.

“Keep going, I am helping you as long as you don’t stop” Zoro says, standing up and walking towards your almost limpid body.

You sigh, and moan louder. “Fuck!” you scream, feeling your arms trembling about to lose the grip.

But his wide frame receives your weight. Like a kid on a piggy back ride, you rest your body on his shoulders. His huge hands squeeze your hips and ass.

“I got you…”

You try to excuse yourself for not being able to keep going, but you simply can’t as he commands you to stop whining. Zoro puts you down, still holding you by your waist.

“You did well, I know your limits. Don’t worry” he whispers, with raspy voice and sexy metallic eyes. His slightly calloused thumb plays with your lower lip as he makes you walk backwards. His big chest, his huge build, the caramel skin, and the scent of masculine musk mixed with iron, makes you weaker.

The back of your shins encounters with a pile of yoga mats and your chest, his hand pushing you against them. You fall back with widen eyes, but still knowing exactly what’s next…

You don’t stretch after training, you get stretched. Rough.

“Is it stretching time?” you purr. “In fact, whore” Zoro says, smirking with diabolic façade. That expression that makes you tremble, horny… extremely horny.

You gloat; taking your very sweaty compression top off. Your breasts feel freed, the marks on your skin slowly disappearing.

Zoro loses no time, and quickly lets his shorts fall down to the ground. He is not wearing -of course- a shirt. It’s hot enough to be covering his sweaty abs.

Hard, as always. Veiny and reddish. Deliciously looking, deliciously tempting. Your hands surrounding his length, taking the tip to your tongue’s one.

“What about letting me fuck your mouth and throat this time?” he asks, grabbing your messy ponytail for a better grip.

He pushes his dick against your lips, forcing them open until sliding it deep inside it reaches your throat. The first gag resonates against the mirrored walls of the gym; it’s pretty late, nobody comes around during these hours.

Your eyes go blank for a second as they fill with tears; you are sure the silhouette of his sex appears on your throat the more he thrusts into your mouth.

But apparently for Zoro is not deep enough, and he pulls your hair for you to fall with your back onto the pile of mats. He moves you so that your head hangs out of the improvised bed, looking from above his imponent body reaching your wet cave.

Zoro first gives you a rough -but still cute- caress on your cheek, followed by a soft slap. He kneels down just so his hardness, drippy and shiny from your saliva, can penetrate your mouth. He literally wants to fuck your mouth backwards, and he will.

You stick your tongue out, receiving his dick deeper into your throat. His hands grip from your erected breasts, squeezing them with merciless attempt. Your nipples, protruding in between his fingers, feel overstimulated by the brutal massage.

As his hips move in and out, Zoro bends over enough for his nose to reach your navel. He plants a kiss, sniffing the scent of your warm skin.

Your nails carve con his strong, muscular legs. And your tongue reaches for the base of his dick as he goes deeper than ever.

“Look at your shorts, all wet…” he murmurs, in between little gasps and sexy grunts. Fucking your mouth feels more than heaven to him.

He plays with the damp spot around your grey shorts; the spandex in them has sticked itself to your wet sex. Zoro is delighted with the image, but he wants the spot to get much, much bigger. He reaches for the arousal patch with his mouth, tasting the salty flavour, drinking through the fabric everything he can suck.

The warmth of his mouth, tongue and saliva pass through the stretchy material making you shiver underneath his crushing weight. Your lungs barely expand, thick saliva mixed with his precum sprouts from the commissure of your mouth and your back arching more and more. You want him to rip your pants off, you want him to eat you out completely and so brutally.

You can’t wait no more, your nails keep leaving marks on his flesh, your soles keep kicking the mat underneath. And he knows it very well, so much he keeps pumping inside of you until your lips turn a little blueish. And when that happens, just for some seconds he goes even deeper to then stick his sex out… violently.

You take a big gasp, with mandible hurting and desperate pants.

“Take… take them out” you plead, trying to squeeze your arms in between his legs to take your short leggings off.

“Take? Mhh…” he laughs, a rare sound but definitely tinted in lustful, devilishly intentions.

Zoro, instead, uses his strong hands to rip them off. The third pair in a month, he thinks those are free.

A whole, enough to expose your whole sex and ass, forms withing the ripped limits of your pants.

“This should do” he smirks, crunching a little not to crush you but for your tongue to reach for his balls. Soft skin you immediately suck and lick, causing in that man a feral grunt so loud it makes you tremble.

The green haired samurai spreads your legs, reaching for your flooded core with his own mouth. A sixty-nine position, where he is on top and you, like a little prey, underneath.

Zoro starts licking your whole sex, up and down, with his whole tongue. It seems as if he was doing some field recognition work, trying the very ups and downs of your core.

He keeps going. Your lips open allowing his dick to get back inside your mouth. You can sense the throbbing of his shaft growing stronger, getting harder than a rock, about to reach climax.

You squeeze his toned ass, strong enough to let him know you have enough oxygen to tolerate the last thrusts until his orgasm. You want your belly filled with his sweet, warm milk.

However, it isn’t enough for him. The strongest is not satisfied with the position, and specially this time with filling your mouth of his seed.

“I will eventually make you choke with my cum, but not now” he growls, pulling you down, sticking his sex out and walking until he is properly in front of you.

You pant, cleaning your mouth and chin from saliva with your forearm. You don’t mind, you accept his cum anywhere he wants. You accept everything he might want and desire from your sore body.

It is because of that, that Zoro lifts you up and turns you around. You are now on all fours and his hands rip the rest of your now absolutely wet shorts.

He separates your ass cheeks with both hands, taking a good look at your trembling thighs and dripping sex. A drip that forms long strings of arousal connecting with a pool of it on top of the yoga mat.

He kneels right behind you, playing with one of the sticky transparent strings, getting it back inside you with his finger in your sex.

“That ass looks so delicious” he moans, without stopping the fingering and getting his face close to your rear entrance.

As soon as the tip of his tongue reaches for your hole, you squirm and whine. And a slap on your ass cheek makes you flinch.

“Shh… little whore, I haven’t even done what I want yet” he says, biting the warm spot where he just spanked.

You bite your lower lip, letting your chest and face fall against the mat. Your ass, of course, lifted just perfectly for Zoro to have a banquet with it.

He spits and then proceeds to eat you out, going from your spread labia, towards your perineum and finally to your ass. To him there is no more delicious exquisiteness than your parts.

To you, at the same time, there is nothing better than the way he moves his tongue and the absolute no shame when it comes to taste every little part of your anatomy.

And of course, who could last long with such unchaste act? Not you, at least.

Soon, and guided by the way you can’t keep your posture no more, Zoro knows you are just about to burst… Him, too; he has been edging himself until this moment.

“Come, come on” he commands, slurping the unstoppable liquids leaving your core.

You can barely moan, reduced to a slave of pleasure, you simply let go of your body. Mind blank, eyes too. A loud moan against the blue gym mat, nails leaving imprints on it.

Trembling, exploding, reaching heaven or maybe hell. Him coming as well, bathing, the very minute after, your ass and sex with his release. You feel it dripping down, maybe even filtering inside you too.

“No, don’t get too comfy. We are just starting. Now that you are prepped, I’m ready to fuck you”

“Zo-Zoro…?”

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hermesserpent-stuff · 4 days ago

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Potential script idea for billy batson s radio show segment

The whizz radio intro tones-

Billy Batson then starts speaking through a slightly crackly radio as Fawcett is a city someone lost to time, given its connection to the Rock of Eternity.

---

Welcome to WHIZZ Radio: where we give the latest news, truths, and view in Fawcett City. Brought to you by your host, me, billy Batson.

Starting off with community news, make sure to visit the shrine of Atlas sometime this week with an offering. Cap mentioned that there might be a need for endurance next week, and we should all probably listen. Additional reminder, the festival of Zeus will be happening this Saturday. Stay away from odd looking geese, metal poles and don't fulfill any selfcrearting proficies in a fit of hubris.

Onto traffic!

Main Street and Fifth Avenue are both still under construction from Dr. Sivannas attack and the demon portal last Thursday and Friday. Ms. Marvel and Cap. both played a role in clearing the debris, but there are still major cracks and fissures to Hades. Expect delays.

Now the weather.

Today's forecast includes thick over cast clouds; a good time for summoning souls. Be sure to greet both the living in the dead while going about your day and don't for get that umbrella! There is a slight chance of curses with intermittent showers.

Alright! Time to quickly cover the Capes and Crooks news bulletin. Dr. Sivanna is still missing after his recent bout with Cap. Since he interrupted one of Mercury's races down at the track, no one is quite sure when the Roman god took him. If you happen to see him, please be sure to give Cap a ring to come pick him up.

Keep your eyes peeled for Mr. Mind. The worm escaped prison… again. Holy moly. You'd think they'd make better prisons for him. What is this, the fourth time in two weeks?

*Noise indistinct*

I know, I just figured that out listeners would likely have the same comment. I don't see why I shouldn't point it out of its true

*Indistinct noise again*

Alright! Fine. Moving on from that.

Today's radio broadcast is brought to you by Saturn's candy. Nothing so sweet as a stick of magic you can eat! Try their Caramel cookie candy bars, now with cooked in bloodline curse protect. If your looking for a spot of luck, try their cinnamon apply candy sticks. Saturn's candy. A proud sponsor of WHIZZ Radio!

*Little jingle*

Welcome back to the program. Time for our sister citys segment.

This reporter has just been told by his producers to issue an apology to Black Adam for statements said during this segment of yesterday's broadcast.

*An aside*

Do I have too?

*Indistinct noise*

Fine.

I am. Sorry. For calling you a craized up old fart with too much free time.

There.

Moving on!

Kahndaq currently is continuing negotiations with both the Justice League and the UN to gain a seat at the UN table. Or be allowed in the UN room. While Fawcett recognizes Kahndaq as sovereign, the rest of the world stills sees the country as illegitimate.

Aside from tense meetings, and Black Adam being a kook who keeps coming to mess with Cap due to having a grudge unbecoming of a literal king and ancient man child, Kahndaq is doing fine. The economy is flourishing, despite limited imports and exports due to sanctions. The letters sent by Fawcetts finest and kindest citizens were well received and we should hear back soon if Mercury has anything to do with it.

It's time once again for Billy's opinion of the day.

This week!

Cans and their many used.

Not only do cans offer one of the best ways to have long term storable food, but they also make awesome weapons! We got to see this on Friday when Marvel Jr. and Captain Marvel went toe to toe with demons using a barrage of cans. And the food was still good to eat after the fight!! I love it when things are multi purposed. Now if only they could close the rifts down to Hades…

*Chimes*

Oh! Mercury just dropped a fresh bit of mail! Thank you Mercury! Watch out for old men wandering around. It seems like the Greek and Roman gods are looking to bless and curse some folks today.

Do good, and good will follow.

And keep an eye on the sky for lightning!

This has been Billy Batson, signing off!

#hermes speaks #billy the radio host au #billy batson #shazam #captain marvel

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scorpioriesling · 4 months ago

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Too Hot To Handle - Episode 1

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Characters featured: Reader, Feyre, Morrigan, Gwyn, Elain, Emerie, Amren, Cassian, Lucien, Eris, Tarquin, Rhysand, Helion, & Tamlin

Warning(s): None

SR's Note: Okay, so I know this show was runner up for the most votes on the poll. However! I liked this idea so much that I am writing series for both Too Hot To Handle and Love Island if this one does well. So... please like, comment, reblog, and don't forget to vote! You literally control the outcome of this story -- every vote counts. xo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The summer sun cast a warm glow across the chrystalline water in the bay, the reflections like little silver fractures along the surface. The smell of salt in the air only surges you forward, the clicking of your wedges against the wood of the dock a contrast to the swishing of the boats in the water.

The large, white, pristine yacht comes into view, tied directly at the end of the dock, practically calling your name louder and louder with every step closer you take. You raise a hand to shade the sun from your vision, and can make out a few figures on the deck. Your heart rate picks up, a small smile spreading across your face as another adrenaline wave courses through you again.

This was it -- you'd finally made it to the retreat you'd been so anxious to attend. This could finally be your chance at finding not just another partner for the evening, but a real, true partner for life.

All you had to do was step onto the Love Boat.

"Y/N?" The captain greets you politely as you step up to the ramp leading to the boat's main deck. You meet his eyes, and he extends his hand. You take it, and he shakes as though you're equals, his gaze never leaving your eyes as he nods politely. You smile appreciatively, knowing in that moment, under his direction, you would be in good hands.

"It seems you're the last to board, dear. Please -- step aboard whenever you are ready." He nods once more.

"Thank you!" You say with a little too much enthusiasm. He only smiles politely, his face turning to peer out at the ocean beyond once more. You take a hesitant step onto the path toward the main deck, the soles of your shoes clicking differently on the metal than they did the wood. You continue your stride, up and up and up the path...

When you can see the opening onto the main deck, you halt, ruffling your fingers through your blown-out hair and adjusting the strings of your bikini. If you're really about to walk onto a deck full of males (and females, for that matter) who were all here for the same reason you were, you had to make sure what needed to be covered -- and what needed not to -- was or wasn't... right?

With a satisfied sigh, you took one calming breath before taking the final step past the interior walls of the boat, and heading toward the crowd of other bikinied females and half-naked males before you. You could have sworn your mouth dropped open at the sheer amount of options you had -- and not one of them was a bad one! Everywhere your eyes darted, all you could see was muscle, toned abs, defined legs, and amid the whistles and cheers, a very loud:

"Oooh! Who have we got here?"

✧･ﾟ:

All you can do is laugh nervously as every eye on the boat seems to be on you. You haven't felt self-conscious in ages, but with everyone staring at you like this you feel so... exposed. Nonetheless, you're grateful when a pretty girl walks right up to you and holds out a flute of champagne to you with a smile.

"A glass of champagne for you?" She asks. You graciously take it from her, and your eyes meet her caramel brown ones.

"Thank you, yes, absolutely," you chuckle. "God, I'm so nervous, I feel like everyone's-"

"Drinking you up?" She says, her brow raising. You shrug, chuckling as she looks around at the guys waiting to come over and talk to you. "It's because everyone is. You're the freshest glass of water on this boat, and every guy wants a taste." She winks, and your cheeks heat at her words. She laughs and tosses her hair over her shoulder, the sun shining on the radiant golden locks as though they are made of the metal itself. "My name is Morrigan -- uh, Mor, I mean. Everyone just calls me Mor." She sips her bubbly champagne, and you take note. The bubbly one is Mor -- like the champagne on the boat.

"Well, I'm happy to meet you Mor," you say. "I'm Y/N." She glances over her shoulder, her eyes only briefly meeting yours once more before she leans in close.

"Between you and me," she says lowly. "I have my eyes set on that one over there," she glances toward a very tall, dark-skinned male with short black locks. He is laughing at something the brunette beside him says, his smile adding to the glowing aura around him.

"You should move in now then," you suggest, and Mor shoulder bumps you.

"Heyyy you're just saying what I was already thinking," she smiles. Her aura shines just as brightly as she wades through the crowd, making her way toward the joyous male. It's only a matter of minutes before you're approached once more, this time by a much taller, much more handsome person.

"Well hello there darling," the raven-haired male's deep tone sends a flutter about in your stomach. You smile up at him, your eyes dragging across the sculpted panes of his tanned skin.

"Hello," you politely greet. He smiles coyly, taking your free hand in his.

"And who do I have the pleasure of meeting today?" He drawls. You shyly introduce yourself, and he nods as if your name is quite suitable.

"Y/N," he affirms. He places a featherlight kiss to the top of your hand and you blush, noticing his subtle glance toward your bikini top as he does so. "You're quite beautiful, Y/N," he says.

"And you're quite charming...?" You raise your eyebrows in question.

"Rhysand," he finished. Ahh, Rhysand. "However, "Charming" would do just fine, if it is a Prince you are looking for." He chuckles, a small dimple forming in his cheek. You giggle along with him, and he raises his whiskey glass to you.

"Cheers to finding your Prince Charming, hmm?" He winks, and heads off toward where a few other ladies have congregated near the railing. It isn't long before he says something and they all laugh, surely all fawning over him already.

Rhysand the Charmer. Got it. Boy, whoever goes for that one will have quite a few ladies in waiting to battle it out with to get to him-

The loud blaring of the ship's horn has everyone flinching in suprise, so much so that you almost spill your champagne. You manage to keep it all in your glass, that is until the ship disembarks from the dock, the sudden motion causing you to sway a bit in your wedges and loose your balance.

"Woah-"

Two hands brace your arms, catching you mid-wobble before you could topple over. Your upper back brushes across warm, hard skin and you shudder at the contact, feeling alight with energy and embarassment at your sudden sea legs.

"Are you alright, miss?"

You turn, peering over your shoulder as your helped upright onto your platforms once more. Only a bit of champagne has slipped from your glass, but not enough to warrant a scene. Nonetheless, you can't help but feel ashamed in front of yet another beautiful man before you.

"Oh, I'm alright -- just quite embarassed really. I can't believe... I mean I'm usually not so clum...s...y..." You trail off, your eyes meeting a pair of the most beautiful ones you'd ever seen. The heterochromia was instantly attractive, the deep amber on the left such a contrast to the burnt golden on the right; Gods you couldn't stop staring.

"Well, it seems your slight misstep has maybe affected your ability to talk then?" He jokes, his red hair flowing behind his shoulderblades with the slight breeze off of the ocean. Your cheeks flare, and you chuckle nervously.

"No! No not at all, I... maybe my wit just isn't quite as good as yours?" You arch an eyebrow at him, earning you a delighted laugh in return. You quickly scan him when he tosses his head back -- all the way down to his burnt orange swim trunks-

"Lucien," he says, holding out his hand. You take it, and immediately cringe when you remember the champagne you'd sloshed over it moments ago. He lets out a breathy laugh.

"What is it, now you don't like the way my hand feels either? Moments ago you didn't mind..." He teases. You let go, and playfully shove his shoulder, which earns you another grin.

"Nooo, I just spilled some of my drink when I slipped earlier and I realized it got on you too," you explain.

"Ohhh, I see I see," He says, inspecting his hand palm up. He shrugs.

"Well, now I'll just remember that you've put something sticky all over my fingers," he wiggles his brows, and you gasp.

"Lucien!" You can't help but laugh. He only smiles at you, glancing around before taking a step past you toward the stairs.

"You didn't tell me your name yet, love," he says looking back.

"Y/N," You say. He nods, glancing at his palm once more.

"Got it... Y/N, the pretty girl who got my hand sticky and wet. I'll remember you for sure," he says with a wink.

Add Lucien sticky fingers to the list.

✧･ﾟ: *

Over the next hour or so, you'd walked around the boat, admiring the views of the ocean, exploring what wasn't locked off from retreat attendees, and meeting a few more guests. You hadn't had any other males approach you yet, but you did meet another girl while watching the waves.

"What's brought you to the retreat?" She asked kindly. You smiles softly, thinking about the few males you'd already met today.

"Honestly, I haven't had much luck in relationships in my past," you explained, looking over at the freckled female beside you. Feyre was her name, she'd said. Feyre with freckles.

"Oh, I can understand that. Honestly, I've been through some shit myself." She says, peering out at the vast expanse solemnly.

"I just feel like maybe this is a way to finally meet someone looking for the same thing I am, you know?" You continue. She nods, her long golden braid swaying behind her and ending just above the waistband of her midnight blue bikini.

"Oh, absolutely." She agrees, her eyes meeting yours. "Let's just hope these guys we're forced to share this yacht with for a month aren't total dogs, hm?" Her crystalline blue eyes crinkle at the sides as she cracks a smile, and you chuckle in agreement. Just a few moments later, Mor approaches once more from across the deck, her ruby red bikini unmissible from a mile away.

"Ladies!" She exclaims. You and Feyre both turn, taking her in fully as she approaches happily with two margaritas in her hands.

"I see you've found the bar?" Feyre muses. Mor hands her a margarita, and then thrusts one into your hands.

"Oh I've found something better than the bar girls -- I found the hot tub!" She squeals in delight, hopping from foot to foot and somehow maintaining her balance in her very high heels. You and Feyre exchange a glance, but ultimately shrug as Mor links arms with you and pulls you toward the main stairs to the top deck.

"...Oh! And after I talked to Helion, there was this other guy Eris who was like, mega hot but I don't really know if he's my type? Oh, and I almost forgot about Gwyn too, she is such a sweetheart, oh gosh..." Mor keeps rambling on as you and Feyre follow her to the hot tub, your eyes trained on yet two more delicious males already seated inside, engaged in conversation. You and Feyre quietly remove your shoes, and as you bend over to undo the straps, you can feel the blonde one staring directly at you, as though peering right through the thin fabric of your bikini. When you stand again, Mor has already gotten in, the bubbles swirling around her and Feyre's ankles as she wades in as well, banalcing her margarita in her hand. You nervously step in, the slipery stair below only providing deja vu from your earlier embarassment.

"I can hold that, if you'd like," the very muscular, tan, tattoed male with the short brown hair offers a kind smile and a hand to you. You smile back, and hand him your drink.

"Aww, how sweet of you!" You chirp. His smile only grows as you slowly sink deeper into the water, the bubbles foaming just below the strings of your bikini top. You sit next to him, getting a better look at him. He hands you back your drink, and his perfect teeth grin down at you before he says;

"I meant your hand, but I'll help however I can I suppose." You blush, and he only chuckles at you.

"Oh gosh," Mor loudly exclaims. "I forgot! These are my new friends too." She hiccups, clearly intoxicated, and gestures around the hot tub to each individual. You pull your eyes from the handsome male beside you to the blonde, mysterious one across the way who's been staring at you since he'd first seen you. You only meet his piercing emerald eyes for a moment before looking away shyly.

"Feyre... then me, obviously," Mor gestures to herself. "Then we have Y/N, and then Cassian..." Cassian. Hmm... the cutie, you supposed. He glances to you again, a small smirk on his lips as hishand under the water slightly brushes against your thigh. It's enough to cause your breath to hitch.

"...then lastly is Tamlin!" You're immediately pulled from your daze upon hearing the quiet stranger's name. You'd need to be sure to get him alone later, something in his gaze was quite... hungry. It was almost like a need, perhaps one he came to satiate just as you had. It was like you were his prey, he was a hunter out for you in the forest...

Tamlin's target. That'd do.

Conversation buzzed around you as more people joined, left, rejoined, and drank in the hot tub while the sun began to set in the distance. Another kind male, (Tarquin with the Tequila, you'd deemed fit as he kept grabbing you fresh margaritas) a strikingly dark one with white locks offerred to refill your drink -- a few times, actually -- but with each passing hour, you only felt as though you wanted to at least talk to Tamlin. Alone.

"Yeah, there are only half the beds on board, so we have to share," your fuzzy attention clears as you re-engage in the conversation before you. Rhysand furrows his brows, taking in what Cassian had just said. You can't help but do the same.

"Wait, what do you mean half the beds?" Feyre asks. Cassian shrugs, looking around the tub at each person, his eyes drifting over you for only a moment.

"That's what I heard before I got on -- the rules of the Love Boat is that we have to couple up every night to sleep," he explains, then his face contorts in confusion. "Wait, were you guys not told this before you boarded? Or..."

"If it was in the contract, then I probably just skimmed over it," a pretty, fair skinned brunette girl admits. You nod in agreement, you definately didn't read every single word in that thing. But if that's the case...

"Well, if that's the case," Feyre says, rising from the bubbling water and making her way toward the stairs. "I've got some decision making to do then." She says in finality, descending upon them one by one. You sigh, your head fuzzy from the drinks and judgement clouded on what to do. You'd already met so many fine men today, sure, but you hadn't met them all -- but, even so, the sun was setting, and you needed someone to share a bed with tonight.

You rise as well, your hunter tracking your every move. Sure, did you pull your bikini up a little higher for the viewing pleasure? Maybe. Did you sway your hips when getting out of the hot tub? Also... maybe. You knew he was looking, and you quite liked it as such.

As you descended the stairs, you found most of the girls lounging on the beach beds on the main dock, all chatting away. You slipped in, sitting on a corner between Feyre and another gorgeous female with stunning chocolate skin and a long brown fishtail braid.

"Well, I'm planning to bed with Helion," Mor says confidently. She looks to a pale girl with stunning blue eyes that match the ocean's surface, her wispy red hair blowing beautifully behind her. "Gwyn, who are you thinking?"

Gwyn -- the mermaid, with those oceanic eyes -- perks up, her hand rubbing over the skin of her arm. "I haven't really met many males today, so I'm not really sure... Tarquin was nice, but I met Tamlin too and he was very interesting." Her lilting voice is so sweet, you didn't doubt any male in here would find that endearing about her.

"Personally, I'm feeling Rhysand a little bit," Feyre admits. You raise your eyebrows at her, and a few other ladies in the bunch nod in agreement.

"I met him today too -- he was really sweet," the girl with the fishtail nods. Mor giggles at her.

"Emerie, I feel like you've always liked tan guys," she says. Emerie chuckles.

"I mean, I have a type anddd... he fits the bill," she admits. Emerie who likes tans.

You glance to Feyre, who only sits quietly beside you, seeming to be thinking a million things at once in her head before her focus lands on the fair-skinned brunette from earlier.

"Elain? Have anyone in mind?" She asks. Elain's cheeks turn as red as a rose, but she smiles and covers her cheeks with her hands. She reminds you of a flower in a garden.

"I... oh, I just don't know yet, Fey." She admits. The smaller female next to her only shakes her head, her pin-straight short black hair swishing as she does.

"Better figure it out soon... these men will be pouncing like cats soon enough." Her blood red lipstick gleams in the evening sun, and Feyre glances to you again.

"Were you thinking of anyone yet?" She asks quietly. You slowly shake your head.

"No... I mean, yes... I mean, maybe? I don't know, I've only met a few guys, and I don't know... making the first move usually isn't my style." You bite the inside of your cheek. Feyre rests a hand on yours and her blue eyes peer at you.

"Y/N, you don't have to worry... I'm sure you'll have a few males asking for you tonight." She says, a soft smile curving her lips. You only chuckle, giving her hand a light squeeze.

"Oh please -- you're a total catch! Rhysand is yours if you go for him first." You glance quickly at Emerie, who is still listening in on whatever Mor is drawling on about now. Feyre takes a deep breath, and nods in agreement.

"You're right -- I should make my move first." She rises quickly, her sudden motion drawing all eyes to her.

"Okay... ladies uh... nice chat... um..." She stutters. You rise next to her, swinging your arm over her shoulders.

"Let's move in on these silly boys before they mess any of our plans up, shall we?" You declare. A chorus of cheers in agreement ring out as the group disbands, making their way about the yacht as the guys seem to be doing the same.

You take your time, slowly walking the floors and trying to avoid contact with the other males before you're able to at least converse with Tamlin. You ascend the stairs, hoping he'll be in the hot tub still...

Sure enough, he is.

He turns as you walk up to him and you say a silent prayer in thanks that you're the only two up here. His swirling green eyes meet yours, and you sensually make your way into the hot tub once more, the steam a warm greeting against the ever approaching evening air.

"I see you've made your way back." He says, his deep voice sending a thrill down your spine. You sit a few feet from him, leaning against the edge of the tub and gazing into his eyes. His stare that seems to eat you alive.

"I wanted to at least talk before..." you trail off. He raises an eyebrow slightly, and you chew on your bottom lip.

"Before..." he repeats your words.

"Before... we had to... you know-"

"Choose someone to sleep with tonight?" He finishes. You nod silently, and he sighs, his arms dipping below the water's surface. His gaze flickers toward the evening sunset for a moment, and you study his face before his eyes settle back on you once more.

"And you... only came up here... to talk?" He rasps, and you stare wide-eyed as his long fingers gently find purchase on your thigh, running up and down softly. You'd be lying if you said it didn't set your core on fire; your sex drive was already high as-is.

"I... uh, well I mean..." You suck in a sharp breath when his hands find your knees, lightly tugging you closer to him. The water swirls around you, the steam adding to your flushed complexion as he pulls you mere inches from him. He leans in close, practically hovering over you as a small smile spreads across his deliciously kiss-able lips.

"What was that you were saying, Y/N?" He whispers. The way your name rolls off of his tongue is mouth-watering... as though he's the freshest glass of water in the room, and you simply...

Wanted a taste.

You push off the hot tub bench, the water lapping at your waist as you smush your lips onto his. You were right -- they are quite kiss-able. The instant attraction is very apparently two-sided as his hands rest on the esposed skin of your waist, your hands caressing his sharp jawline and lightly threading through his bleach-blonde locks. He parts his lips, allowing you in and you take it, your tongue dancing with his in a tango of passion and instant attraction.

He guides you onto his lap, pulling you to sit atop him and continue to makeout. Every soft groan from him sends wave after wave of arousal to your core, and you couldn't help but feel excited to share a bed later. Oh, the things you had planned...

He pulls back, his half-lidded eyes searching yours as his puffy pink lips curve into a small smile, revealing his (of course) perfect smile.

"This means we're sharing a bed tonight, hm?"

✧･ﾟ: *

When the announcement came over the speakers that the passengers would be disembarking for a luxury dinner, everyone was quite thrilled! You'd found Mor again, who was happy to report that Helion confirmed he'd share her bed for the night (you hadn't yet told her about Tamlin) and a few of the other males you'd met that day fell in line beside you as you filed off the yacht, one by one toward a very expansive, very theatrical scene.

Fire dancers, bongo players, hula skirts all around -- this was a party! Everyone whooped and cheered as the group made their way toward the building, the festivities only creating more excitement as we ventured on.

"Love Boat passengers!" The Captain called from the back of the group. Everyone halted, turning to look to him as he removed his hat and gazed over the crowd.

"I have been asked to inform you that... unfortunately, you will not be re-entering the yacht," he explains. A wave of confused mutterings overtakes the group, but the Captain continues.

"Nevertheless -- you'll ride out the remainder of your retreat in a luxury villa!" The confused murmurs switch to excited chants, suprise overtaking the group.

"Lastly, I will not be in charge of you any longer. You'll be monitored via cameras, and by Lana." He announces, and begins retreating toward the yacht.

Many people call after him, asking who Lana is and looking around for another host among the entertainers on the beach. Instead, a robotic box emerges from the end of the path with a white cone-shaped device atop it, glowing with light as sound eminates from it.

"Greetings guests. I am Lana, and I am your host."

Many people look around, groaning in confusion over your new cone-shaped hostess. Lights flicker on behind the cone, illuminating the vast expanse of the luxury villa the Captain had mentioned earlier. Cue another round of excited whoops and hollers.

"Welcome to my retreat, Too Hot To Handle. The villa behind me is where you'll reside for the next four weeks while you explore the meanings behind forming deeper connections with others, bonding with people on a personal level, and forming connections that go beyond the physical standpoint." The cheering dies down, and many of the entertainers lessen their movements as Lana's spiel draws to a close.

"I hope you're ready for the journey -- because you'll be completing this retreat adhearing to my rules. And my biggest rule is that you'll complete this retreat... without the use of any physical intimacy."

✧･ﾟ: *

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deleetrix · 2 months ago

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Hello, I've been working on modeling again! I made a model of an item for each of the Colors! Red's fire rod, Blue's hammer, Vio's bow, and Green's boomerang!

Images I used as references and some rambles below!

I got the colors for everything from this cover of the Four Swords manga! For the materials, I used materials from BlenderKit, with some tweaking to get the colors and look I wanted.

Red's was pretty straightforward. Though, when I originally color-picked that little gem on the bottom, I ended up with a caramel-looking gem. However, I decided to make it match the large red gem. The gems look like edible candy...

For Blue's hammer, I didn't poke the handle through the top, like in the left image, and I like the longer handle in the right image!

The wood does look pretty pale in the final renders but I'm pretty sure that's because of the lighting? I liked it not being such a bright yellow anyways! Also, that little swirl marking in the metal? It wanted to be difficult. I drew it on with a bump map and it just... did not want to work well. So for Green's boomerang, I modeled the swirl instead!

And, since Green's boomerang wasn't on the cover, I used the materials from Vio's bow. The wood looks darker, doesn't it? Again, probably the lighting. I used HDR images (Also from BlenderKit) for rendering, so I tried picking ones that'd go with the Color's colors. For example, I wanted a green-looking picture for the boomerang renders soooo-

A nice green lawn! 😂

#legend of zelda #loz #four swords #four swords manga #red link #blue link #vio link #green link #3d model #blender #3d artwork #3d art #deleetrix

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 5 months ago

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A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 1

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: Long time no post! Sorry for the lengthy hiatus! If you read my Christmas Advent stories then you may be familiar with this story already, however, I've been working hard to turn it into a longer fic and as such a few things have changed (including the POV, hence the reposts). I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want me to start a taglist for this fic.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The Christmas pay is great, but dealing with the influx of customers – everyone in a rush to get their Christmas shopping and preparations finished – sucks. I’m well into the morning rush having made to my best estimate near a hundred coffees in just a few hours. I’m already exhausted and sick of people; many of whom have short tempers due to needing their daily caffeine hit ASAP. Somewhere around the 30th coffee I burnt my hand on the steamer and it has been in pain since, but I need the money so I ignore it and push on. Not that I’d have time to dwell on the pain even if I wanted to; the orders just keep piling up.

Peppermint Mocha Latte with extra whipped cream and crushed candy canes.

Gingerbread Latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon on top.

Chestnut Praline Frappuccino with caramel drizzle.

White Chocolate Peppermint Hot Chocolate with marshmallows.

Winter Wonderland White Hot Chocolate with white chocolate syrup.

Almond Joy Latte with coconut and almond flavours.

And so on and so on into oblivion. Maybe it’s my fault for choosing to work in a cafe that prides itself on its range of festive flavours. But despite the exhaustion, I serve every drink with a smile and never-dwindling love for the holidays.

My steady pace and rhythm are jolted by my coworker getting into my personal space. “Come on, (Y/N)! It’s time to switch, I can’t keep weaving through these crowds with hot drinks and dishes! I need space! Please!”

I add the finishing touches to the drink I’m currently working on and then nod at her. “Fine. I’ll deliver this one and go from there. Just start from the next hot chocolate there,” I nod at the list of order notes stuck on the metal shelf above the coffee machine as I carefully lift the full mug off the bench.

She nods enthusiastically, pulls a new, clean mug off the stack and gets started. I take the fancy hot chocolate out to table 5 as per the order card. My coworker and I fall into perfect harmony quickly. She makes drinks and I deliver them seamlessly until a tall, well-built guy comes bursting through the doors straight in front of my well-worn path causing me to dump an entire Peppermint Mocha Latte on him. The mug and saucer shatter on the tiles by his feet as my hands immediately cover my mouth to hide my embarrassment. But the shock quickly wears off as I jump into action, gathering napkins to wipe the mess while I apologise profusely. I don’t even look up at his face as I continue to attempt to clean out the stain.

“I am so so sorry! Whatever you want is on the house, I’ll cover it all. New shirt and jacket even. It’s all on me. I am so sorry, sir,” I ramble as I continue dabbing at the mess.

Noticing everyone’s eyes on the two of you and customers starting to get restless, he wraps his hands around my wrists to make me stop and look at him properly. “It’s no problem, really. It’s all good. I wanted a reason to buy a new shirt anyway.”

“Please, at least let me get you a coffee to go then.”

“To go?” He questions.

“Yeah, so you can go change.”

“But you did such a good job cleaning me up.” A blush sneaks onto my cheeks at his words. I hear my coworker calling from behind the counter. “Sounds like you need to get back. Just surprise me with something when you get your break. But make sure you’re the one that makes and delivers it,” he says with a wink as he releases his grip on my wrists.

I quickly compose myself as I rush over to grab a broom and mop to clean up the mess as my coworker attempts to manage the impatient customers.

After about half an hour, the morning rush finally starts to die down and the afternoon shift arrives for handover. I finish adding some whipped cream, chocolate powder and marshmallows on top of the white and milk chocolate peppermint mocha lattes and then untie my dirty apron. Thanking my coworkers I take the two festive mugs to the table in the corner where the now dry man is waiting patiently reading a newspaper. I place them down carefully on the table causing him to look up.

“I was starting to think you forgot,” he says.

“You kidding me? I still feel so bad, but it gets so busy here during the holidays.”

He takes a sip of the drink closest to him and then says, “I can see why. I’m used to straight black coffee, but I can get on board with this.”

As I go to take a sip from the other mug, a bright flash from outside the window causes me to spill my drink all over the table and myself. Looking in the direction of the flash, the man jumps into action. He passes me some napkins and stands up.

“That’s my fault. Should’a known word would get out if I stayed here this long. That’s my fault,” he says apologetically.

I dab at my now, evenmore stained shirt and say, “I guess now we’re even.”

He slides a coaster across the table with a few more napkins. “I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs his jacket on and walks away. After a second, I regain my senses and go to call out and stop him but the door’s already closing behind him. I look down at the coaster and see a phone number written in neat handwriting. With a sigh, I slip it into my pocket and smile.

#jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic

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who-knew-a-sheep-can-write · 7 months ago

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Metal Moths: Bigby Wolf x Reader

Oh babe, I feel it. My messages are always open if you need to talk to someone, I'm always available to help out anyone I can.

Contains: Self-Depreciation, depressing thoughts

Something was off.

It didn’t hit him until he was gnawing on yet another cigarette bud that was burnt down to the filter did it suddenly click in his mind. It had been bugging him for the past few days but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It wasn’t unpaid bills or reports he had neglected to file, nothing like that of the sort. It felt… social? That kind of thing always stumped Bigby as he wasn’t really the social type, always avoiding the Remembrance Day bullshit and shying away from whatever events King Cole puts on to raise even more money for Fabletown.

He dropped his pen when he suddenly realized what exactly was missing, back straightening up quickly, his knees smacking against his desk that was too big for his comically small office that almost caused the piles of papers and folders filled to the brim to scatter across the semi-clean floors.

When was the last time he saw you?

Regret pinched at a nerve between his shoulders as he tossed the cigarette bud into the nearby trash. He ran a hand through his hair and scratched at his neck, leaning back in his chair as he ran through what he could in his mind of the past few days. He knows he saw you this week, that was for sure. He hadn’t seen much of you the past few days thanks to some fucked up case that practically pushed him down the rabbit hole, but he knew you had called the Business Office only for Bufkin to answer and take your message. You were asking for Bigby to come to your apartment, but he couldn’t make it.

He really wanted to. Honestly, he did. He would rather take the brunt of another silver bullet than do anything to hurt you, but unfortunately, this slipped through the cracks of his fingers like fine sand.

He stood up, wincing when a few folders slipped from their place on his desk and scattered the contents across the floor. He’d deal with it later.

He slipped out of his office door and trekked through the oddly empty halls. He strained his ears and sniffed at the stale air of the Woodlands, scoffing at the horrible air fresheners Snow had installed to raise the appeal of the damn place. It didn’t do much, the barely there floral scent did nothing to cover the decades of cigarettes, blood, sweat and tears these hallowed halls carried. It only distracted his nose from catching your scent to see if you were even home, the voice in the back of his head scolded him, asking him why he didn’t just call you from the old rotary he still had in his office.

But he caught your scent when he turned down the hall that contained your apartment.

Something was wrong.

Your scent wasn’t the usual ambrosia to his nose, the one thing he would always somehow find in the crowded city of Manhattan like a needle in a haystack. No. It wasn’t sweet like caramel or warm like coffee, but… dull? He didn’t know how to describe it, but he knew how it made him feel.

And he felt bad. He felt something bad looming over him and he felt something bad bubbling in the deepest pits of his guts.

He slowly approached your apartment and strained his ears. No sound came from inside, but he could hear the faintness of your heart beating away deep inside. It was slow, kept to an odd rhythm of neither rest nor active.

He knocked, knuckles lightly rapping at your chamber door. The key to your apartment was on his keyring, but he didn’t want to use it. He wanted you to get up, he wanted you to walk over to the door and open it, he wanted to see you upright and standing before his eyes to quell the worry that made the beast inside of him start to prickle with life. There was silence on the other end of the door yet again besides your heart beating, but it picked up upon him knocking. He even heard you take a quick breath in.

He knocked again, the worry about to bubble over into slight panic as he sniffed again. He couldn’t smell any blood whether it would be dry or fresh, but he could smell something else. Something salty. Were you crying?

He heard the sheets rustle, you had to have been tucked into your bed, curled in the sheets. His heart yearned for you to open the damn door so he can take care of you.

“(Y/n),” Bigby called. No answer. The silence was deafening to him as he heard his blood roaring through his ears. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention, he felt the beast clawing at his spine for control he would never relinquish. He knocked again, a little louder this time. “(Y/n), are you in there?”

He heard your feet meet the floor inside, the covers being thrown away from your person as the bed creaked under your shifting weight. He took a step away from the door, eyes pinned on the doorknob as he heard the wooden floorboards of your apartment creaking as you slowly padded over. Were you… stumbling? It sounded as though you were, steps uneven and a little heavy for your usual gait.

Ironically, he waited for you at the door like a dog.

And when you opened the door finally with a heavy click of the lock turning, Bigby felt the panic snuff out inside of him when he saw that you were actually standing before him.

You looked like you had been dragged through hell and then some. Dark circles around your eyes, your irises were barely focusing on him and your under eyes were so puffy from crying. How long have you been crying for? Your cheeks were tacky with dried tear tracks and your lips were a little swollen from worrying at them with your teeth, your bottom lip even had a split in it from where you bit a little too hard. You were wrapped up in clothes that needed a good wash, the collar of the baggy sweater you were wearing was soaked from you probably wiping your tears away not too long ago.

Seeing you like this made the knife twist even harder in his gut.

“Hey Bigby,” your voice was so soft and so hoarse, it almost didn’t belong to you.

Your words were trembling, vocal chords strained from crying for so long. How long had you been like this? How long had he failed to realize something was wrong?

“Can I… come in?” Bigby found himself hesitating.

He had to. If he didn’t he didn’t know what would’ve come out of his mouth, and he’s a walking trap for accidents to happen as a lot of people would put it.

It was your turn to hesitate. You glanced tiredly over your shoulder back into your pitch black apartment before stepping away, giving him just enough room to allow him to squeeze past you before you closed the door behind him.

“Mind the mess,” you murmured as you sank down onto your couch.

Your curtains were drawn shut, blocking out the evening sun and the rows of neon lights that were slowly turning on for the night. There was the scent of something stale and bitter lingering in the air, it had Bigby wincing just a bit. It wasn’t pungent like cigarettes or food left out a little too long, but it was something else he couldn’t quite place.

He eyed you warily, stepping close to you as you stared mindlessly at some little spot on your rug that overall needed to be vacuumed. Something was haunting your mind and Bigby would be damned if you kept suffering alone in silence. You never let him be affected by this kind of stuff since you both had started seeing each other, and he’d rather be shot up with silver than let you pull a Bigby move.

“(Y/n),” he crooned softly, “what happened?” You didn’t answer at first, you just sat on the edge of your couch with your head in your hands and rubbed at your exhausted face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come see-”

“It’s not your fault,” you pulled away to look up at him. “You’re the sheriff, you’re busy. I shouldn’t have been calling and bothering you, especially with that fucked up case that got slapped on your desk.”

“(Y/n), sweetheart, you’re not a bother to me.” He walked in front of you and crouched down, taking your soft hands in his calloused ones. He ran the pads of his thumbs over your knuckles and made direct eye contact with you. Fuck, seeing you like this, it really made him want to tell Snow and Cole to fuck off for a few days so he can stay here and help you. “You’re never a bother to me.”

“I just,” you hesitated as you pulled your hands away from his warm ones, “I feel like I’m… too much,” your gaze fell to your lap.

“Too much?”

Bigby placed one hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing soothing little patterns at the bend. Your skin was a little cold, he could feel it through the heat that radiated off of him constantly.

“I just- I don’t know. I… I feel awful that I called and I’m sorry that I did. It’s not fair to you. I really didn’t help with that and you-”

“Let me stop you right there.” His voice never rose in volume, it never got harsh. It was deep and rumbling like rolling thunder in the distance. He squeezed your knee to get you to look back up into his big brown eyes. “I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. I know I suck with words and all, but I really do care.” He could see your eyes getting all watery in the corners. “You’re never gonna be too much for me to love you.”

And with that, the tears finally shed as you collapsed into Bigby’s awaiting arms.

#the wolf among us #twau #bigby wolf #bigby x reader #bigby wolf x reader

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astravv · 11 months ago

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what i think genshin characters smell like - headcanons

► alhaitham

alhaitham seems like he’d smell like a very strong men’s cologne. not like axe, but something very fancy and nice. not too overpowering, but when you’re around him it’s definitely noticeable.

► dottore

dottore smells like a doctor’s office. no, not because he’s “the doctor,” just because he’s probably using latex gloves sometimes and just is very clean. maybe bro uses a lot of hand sanitizer.

► childe

childe probably smells like sweat about 35-40% of the time. the other percent is probably the smell of axe deodorant or just axe. he just looks like a guy that would spray axe all over his body. like DROWN in it.

► neuvillette

neuvillette probably smells the same as alhaitham, same expensive cologne, but neuvillette’s is probably way less sensual and more of a fresh, clean scent.

► kaeya

kaeya smells like an expensive spicy cologne. one that hits your nose and makes you go “damn my nose is burning.”

► diluc

diluc probably smells like wine. he smells like a very strong scent of grapes and wine. he tries to mask the smell with a little been of a fresh smelling cologne, but the wine scent is very heavy on him.

► zhongli

zhongli smells like an old person’s house. not a bad thing, just older, like a book almost. he smells more nostalgic and soft. woodsy, too.

► venti

venti 100% smells like alcohol 24/7. no covering up that scent. it’s constantly on him, a lot like diluc, but worse.

► wriothesley

wriothesley smells like fresh tea and a woodsy scent, maybe a bit of metal thrown in there since he is constantly in the fortress of meropide.

► ei

ei smells like lavender or a soft floral scent. a little woodsy scent thrown in there, but a strong flower scent. maybe a bit grandma-ish.

► kokomi

kokomi smells like morning dew with a soft hint of vanilla. she definitely smells very clean and approachable. she has a scent that people seem to compliment a lot.

► hu tao

hu tao for sure smells like wood because all of the coffins she has to deal with. she has a very forest-y smell.

► ganyu

ganyu smells like a very strong vanilla perfume. she smells like someone was just baking some cookies or cake. a sweet scent of icing too.

► yae miko

yae miko smells like cherry blossoms with a fresh laundry scent. she’s around cherry blossoms all day, so it’s normal for her to smell like it.

► furina

furina smells like vanilla, a lot like ganyu. but very strong on the cake. there’s a bit of citrus in there too.

► eula

eula smells very floral. she smells like freshly picked flowers, or a nice summer day. a soapy scent too.

► itto

itto also seems like a guy that would shower himself in axe body spray. not as bad as childe, but the scent is still very strong. chokes you up when you’re around him.

► navia

navia smells citrus-y. very vanilla with citrus. maybe some salted caramel in there too. think like sol de janerio 62 with some citrus scents thrown in the mix.

► nilou

nilou smells like strawberries and vanilla. think strawberry pound cake from bath and body works, but less potent and more soft.

#diluc #kaeya #zhongli #Childe #Itto #raiden shogun #kokomi #hu tao #neuvillette #wriothesley #yae miko #navia #furina #ei #venti #alhaitham #dottore #ganyu #Eula #nilou

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tac-the-unseen · 7 months ago

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What COD characters smell like

Yes, they all smell like Gunpowder and Ash. But besides that...

Ghost:

Simon has a sweet, earthly smell to him. His shampoo is cedar wood heavy, his cologne has some cinnamon overtones, and the cigarette smoke buries itself into his clothes. All of them are strong but weirdly enough they balance each other out. Overall a warm scented man.

Main tone: Cedar wood

Middle tone: Cinnamon

Undertone: Cigarettes

Soap:

John has a cozy log cabin scent. He starts his day off every morning with coffee and the smell tends to linger. The vetiver and pine comes from his body wash that he also uses as shampoo. He says it's fine, it's not.

Main tone: Coffee

Middle tone: Vetiver

Undertone: Pine

Price:

The Cigars are what most notice and expect out of Captain Price, but if they got as close to him as you do they'd be able to smell the sweet caramel and saffron cologne.

Main tone: Cigars

Middle tone: Caramel

Undertone: Saffron

Alejandro:

Alejandro has a soft spot for the rich, dark rum scent. His cologne also came with All spice mid tones and peach undertones. He loves it and really you're the only one get close enough to smell the undertones.

Main tone: Rum

Middle tone: All Spice

Undertone: Peach

Gaz:

Gaz is a huge fan of earth tones and actively seeks out shampoos, conditioners, body wash, and other care products with those tones. He is a fiend for Sandalwood and green tea. Almost all his body care products are sandalwood or green tea. The dirt smell comes naturally when you're getting knocked to the floor as often as he does.

Main tone: Sandalwood

Middle tone: Green Tea

Undertone: Dirt

Roach:

Roach smells like the outdoors because he's always outside. He feels very secure in nature and just wants to smell like that all the time. Most of his body care is based off of citrus but with how much he's outside it gets overpowered by Oakmoss and mud.

Main tone: Oakmoss

Middle tone: Mud

Undertone: Citrus

Konig:

When you started dating he actually started to look at what kind of shampoo and conditioner he was buying. He took his time trying to figure out what you might like, before settling with a Vanilla and amber blend. The charcoal scent comes from his deodorant and body spray, both being charcoal based.

Main tone: Vanilla

Middle tone: Amber

Undertone: Charcoal

Rudy:

Rudy has an overall spicy sweet smell embedded into all his clothes no matter what. He has marshmallow scented shampoo (which you'll have to pry out of his cold dead hands if you don't like it). He also loves red chillies and puts it in everything. Both of you don't know where that campfire smell comes from though.

Main tone: Marshmallows

Middle tone: Red chillies

Undertone: Fire wood

Mace:

Mace is always covered in metal, whether he's in uniform or not. No matter how long and/or hard he washes that smell is not coming out. However when he's not in uniform, he's in leather. And he treats his leather properly with jasmine scented leather conditioner. All of it mixed together is a little odd, but it's him.

Main tone: Metallic

Middle tone: Leather

Undertone: Jasmine

Let's be real with ourselves, They all smell like straight booty :(

#könig x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #alejandro vargas #rudy parra #könig #mace cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod #gary roach sanderson #kyle gaz garrick #reader #scent Headcannons #sfw

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silverflowers14 · 4 days ago

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My X-Men AU: A rough outline

Cause you guys wanted to hear it. here's part of it. I except ideas, critique as long as it's not mean, and your thought on it.

It's kinda hard to explain because it’s come to me in parts and starts in different ways. I wanted Logan to have the same mutations as he normally does, and since there’s a multiverse, there’s bound to be one version of him that’s an Omega-level mutant. Logan, however, is typically shown or classified as a Beta or Alpha-level mutant, and this one is too—but I wanted him to change or evolve into an Omega-level.

I kept Logan’s backstory the same, except for the fact that during the Weapon X procedure, he dies and stays dead (don’t worry, he’ll be fine … eventually). The program dumps his body in a forest in the middle of nowhere. Now that I had that part set, I needed something to revive him while simultaneously making him an Omega-level mutant. So, I came up with these things called Guardians. They are spirit-like beings made of light with godlike powers, typically green in color, that protect the Earth from threats and nature from humans. Occasionally, they choose a creature (in this case, a mutant) they find worthy to bond with permanently.

After Logan is dumped, one of these Guardians bonds with him, reviving him from death and making him younger.

Some of the improvements he gets include:

The adamantium bonded to his bones is now organic (by organic, I mean not toxic).

He can coat and uncoat his bones with the metal (adamantium—don’t ask how; it is what it is, it’ll make sense later).

He heals the same, but now he is immortal.

He can share his healing with others.

If he forms a strong enough bond with another human, mutant, or animal, they become immortal as well, and they are psychically connected (but only for communication).

He has Mother Nature-like abilities (he can revive and kill plants or other natural things).

He has an energy-based power that burns you if he feels threatened and turns red when he’s angry.

He can shift into a few different animals, limited to a wolf, wolverine, dog, cat, and weasel (because I said so). He also has personality traits of all these animals. He can half-shift as well, giving him a werewolf-like appearance, but more human.

Appearance

He can shift his height from 5’3” to 6’6”. If he grows taller, he gains fur—a caramel color that fades into black near his hair.

His hair is long and has two stripes that form a point on his forehead and connect at the bottom of his hair. The pattern resembles the stripe wolverines have.

He has longer, sharper fangs, pointier nails, and piercing blue or amber-colored eyes.

His body has markings on his back, arms, chest, and one on his head (I haven’t decided what they look like yet, and I’m open to suggestions).

His hands are large and paw-like.

When he’s 5’3” and not covered in fur, he looks the same as normal, except younger (around 26). He has freckles, green or red eyes, shorter—but just as sharp—fangs, and dull-pointed nails. His hands remain large and paw-like.

After Logan is revived and gets over the confusion of being alive and having new abilities, he sets out (and just because I can, and it makes it funnier to me later) to create an entire country. Much like Wakanda, no one knows about it, and they keep it a much better secret. It’s located in a “Godzilla vs. Kong: The New Empire”-like place, and by that, I mean exactly like it—except not as deadly. There are no giant monkeys or dinosaurs, but it’s just as majestic and beautiful, and it’s all Logan’s.

The population of this place is larger than Genosha’s, and it’s more successful at not being blown up. It’s well-protected, and its leader is not a dictator or a genocidal maniac (cough Magneto cough).

The majority of the population are ferals (because I said so), and the rest are mutants. All are rescued by Logan and brought there, and there is a strict no-hate rule. The culture is native and flamboyant in nature, and singing is a common thing to hear. The country is named Novesper (a word I made), meaning "new hope."

The next post will cover what I call feral tech.

#wolverine #logan wolverine #logan howlett #x men #I hope you like it so far #james logan howlett #weapon x mentioned #magneto mentioned #au's #writing

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crackrodent · 2 months ago

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Check out the rest of my Flufftober library!

The Caramel Experiment

Baxter had the Bunsen burner going for an hour at this point. The tripod had been holding up the oversized beaker so long he almost forgot they were separate pieces of equipment. The condensed milk was taking forever to cook. He had thought it would only take a couple of minutes then they could start their plan but the last forty minutes had proved otherwise.

Niffty was scuttering about his office getting every roach and spider she could find. There weren’t many. He kept his space clean. Niffty said it made him a bad boy. She said it in a different tone than she usually did. Less obsessive, more collected. She clung to him a little less and watched him from a distance a bit more. He still noticed. Especially when she would clean his lab while he worked.

Niffty would always ask him what he was doing. The day he was attempting to make a new type of acid designed to dissolve iron and harm no other metals. He made an error and instead just made a cleaning additive for removing blood stains. Niffty was amazed. Baxter ‘messed up’ a few more batches before putting the project on hold.

Until she ran out again. He helped her by making a couple of batches every time she ran out.

Then Niffty started reading his chalkboard and getting the materials he needed for experiments while out collecting groceries. He never even asked. She just saw his To Order list and did it.

This little symbiotic relationship worked well. It was just that. They restocked each other’s cupboards and shelves.

Last week something happened. Baxter had just received his new beakers large enough to boil a large enough batch of Niffty’s Blood Stain Removal Serum for him to only need to make one a week when he asked him if he had ever had a caramel apple. He had not. His parents were dentists and he was deprived of a lot of sweets earth side. He didn’t even seek them out down here. He saw them as pointless. He told Niffty just that and assumed it would be the end.

Niffty picked up a beaker and pulled out an apple from her pocket. With a small thud, she dropped it in. There was just enough space to shake it around an inch or two.

“You could make caramel apples in these beakers or even turn thirty bugs to paint!” Niffty said in that tone that once made Baxter’s skin crawl but now paints a smile on his face.

Baxter was so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed Niffty sitting back on her stool at first. They were both watching the now-finished caramel.

“Niffty, did you prepare the specimens?” Baxter joked looking at the apples that Niffty had insisted she get the responsibility of stabbing with their wooden stakes to the heart.

“Time to drown them!” Niffty declared dunking the first victim. The burning hot goop dripped on the lab table on the way back to the tray. Baxter watched as the neat freak made one of the biggest messes his lab had seen in a long time. He laughed as she pulled out her last, barely dressed apple.

“For Vaggie!” Niffty declared.

“Why is that one for Vaggie?” Baxter inquired.

“She is messy.”

Baxter looked at the table and laughed. Sticking his finger into the cooling caramel on the desk and leaving a clear fingerprint.

Baxter laughed and countered, “And you are not?”

“I am not messy,” Niffty said scooping some of the caramel into her hands forming the pliable mess into a ball, and throwing it towards Baxter who ducked right as the door behind him opened.

“Hey Baxter are you-” The king watched as the ball collided into the top of his staff. The mess from the ball left the ceramic apple more covered than the final apple Niffty had planned to coat. Lucifer looked up at the pair, with mock sadness in his voice, “This doesn’t count as my apple does it?”

#niffty x baxter #baxter x niffty #niffter #needlefish #niffty #nifty hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel baxter #hazbin hotel #maidscience #sciencesweep #baxter #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel niffty #flufftober #flufftober 2024 #voxslays #voxslays flufftober

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wolven91 · 1 year ago

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Boop To Accept

Gary blinked as the leathery pad of the alien brushed against his nose, compressing it lightly.

"...er?"

"Oh? Did I do it wrong? I'll try again!" said the canid with a concerned tone.

The near-face sized digit pushed gently at his nose again.

When Gary got up this morning with the knowledge he'd be working as a guard for the following week with dangerous species known as canids, or 'Space-Werewolves' as they were known amongst humans, he had assumed it would be a silent and serious affair. He had found himself on a station that had a far higher number of canids than anywhere before, apparently a military waypoint that was located at the centre of a travelling nexus, as such, the enigmatic canids were now a common sight to him.

The canids were separated from the rest of the races of the community, seen as a naturally dangerous or even hostile species. The canids happily avoided involving themselves except to accept work and offer aloof grunts or shakes of their fluffy main. They were the assault troops, soldiers one and all with the natural dangerous biology to assist them in these roles. Long strong legs, ending in lethal black sickle-like claws. Their bodies, whilst covered in a thick pelt that provided some protection in of itself, were made from dense corded muscles that rippled under their pelt. Their arms and hands, like their other limbs; strong and powerful, albeit lacking in grace or dexterity. Finally, atop their bodies, surrounded by a thick mane that was reminiscent of a rockstar’s hair cut, their heads were that of an apex predator. Large pointed ears swivelled and twitched, their eyes practically glowed in low light as they watched and studied all around them. Their muzzles, filled with sharp finger length teeth all finished off with a powerful nose that could track prey for miles.

Now Gary was presented with his first real interaction with one; the nine foot tall canine-esk alien; instead of the cold reception he was expecting, the imposing creature was now bent over with its muzzle in his face after gently 'booping' the bemused Gary, twice in fact.

"Now you!" It said in an out of place, jovial tone and a tilt of its head.

"Me?" Gary asked blankly, confused more than anything else. A roll of its bright yellow eyes, before it explained;

"You humans love booping! Everyone told me so! You boop me now!"

Gary raised a single digit and gingerly pressed the large wet nose.

"Boooop?"

A sudden rapid thumping came from the room they were guarding, Gary was on alert immediately, hoisting his weapon, until he noticed the tail of the canid wagging vigorously, slapping the door and wall.

"Now human is pack bonded for life." that canid stated, straightening back upright so he was staring at her midriff.

"Wait, what?" He asked, screwing his face up as he craned his back to look up at her face, which was grinning widely.

"Human is pack now. The ancient ritual is complete. Human will join pack when we leave." She confirmed with a quick and resolute nod.

Gary was about to argue this statement, until he thought about it. He didn't have any other work right now... maybe he could follow them around for a bit? He’d sleep on it, if he didn’t want to ‘join’ them, he’d let them know tomorrow.

=== * ===

Gary was getting nervous now.

The giant humanoid wolf thing was serious.

When he had laughed in good humour, it looked at him in great confusion, tilting and holding its head at an angle in confusion, before turning and tilting the other way.

It was several hours later and the contract was complete. He's been paid and was a free agent again, but when he got back to his temporary quarters he had a prerecorded message waiting for him.

It was a different canid, this one with caramel highlights instead of the silvery grey of the elder creature. It informed him that he was to be 'retrieved'.

'..the hell does that mean?' He thought to himself before the thin metal door was slammed into. Something was shuffling outside, several ‘somethings’ by the sounds of it. The man kept the door in front of him as he quietly backed up away from it. There was some scrabbling at the edge of the sealed door, as if whatever was on the other side of the locked door was looking for a way to pull it open.

It was hydraulically locked, surely whatever it was couldn’t force it open. Only station security had the clearance to override personal quarter locks. He was safe, he was going to be oka- When the clawed fingertips dragged the pneumatic door open a fraction causing it to squeal and groan in protest, Gary’s face drained of all colour.

A single intense golden iris stared at him from the tiny created crack between the door and its frame. Several others appeared up and down the new opening with various shades and hues all glowing, all locked on him.

He felt hunted.

Gary turned from the door and immediately jumped up and grabbed the vent covering that was on the opposite wall. It held for a moment before bending and pulling away. Thanks to humanity’s rough start, even human still alive had undergone training. One was to ensure there was always an escape, always an out to avoid being captured or killed. One of the first things Gary had done when he was assigned his quarters was ensure that the vent was large enough for him to escape into if the need called for it.

With a wail of bending metal, Gary fell onto his back and threw the warped vent cover to the side. With a regretful backwards glance he saw several sets of hands/paws clawing at the door and frame leaving gouges in the material as they visibly pulled and yanks at it. The gap had got larger already.

He grabbed the edge of the vent opening and pulled himself up into it.

Not a second later the front door gave up with the sound of rending metal and a swell of howls, yips and growls.

He frantically scrabbled forwards, deeper into the vent as the hairs on the back of his legs sensed the danger behind him.

Something grabbed ahold of a boot and without hesitation yanked him backwards.

He tried to grip the sides of the tiny vent space to arrest his doom while wiggling his foot to lose the boot and save himself.

Mercifully, when he had gotten home and was listening to the message he had undone the laces, intending to wear more comfortable clothing over the evening. His foot slid free and he wasted no time, crawling forwards as he retreated in deeper, chased by howls and snuffling of a threat he didn't have the space or want to see.

The hunt was on.

===*===

Gary continued to crawl through the maze of shafts and tunnels that made up the ventilation system of the station. He was reminded all too well of some of his worst jobs as he progressed in the past. At least it wasn’t a sewer.

At the moment, his plan was distance from the immediate threat and getting a sitrep of the situation. Someone had to know what was going on and how to get the canids off of his tail.

His commutator going off startled the man, banging the back of his head against the metal with a dull ‘thump’. Answering it, he heard the voice of a friend.

"Gary! What the fuck is going on?! You got every canid on the station looking all over for you! They're asking after you in roaming packs!"

"What did you tell them?" Gary asked in a breathless voice, grunting as he continued to creep his way through the narrow space, his arms and legs were covered in a thick dust now.

"They haven't spoken to me yet, you know me, I prefer to stay in my little cubby hole and watch."

Mar’in, a taurian, Gary's friend, was far less confrontational than Gary, but he took to surveillance like a fish to water. More than once had Mar’in pulled Gary's arse from the fire and it was shaping up that he'd do it again.

He was likely to be in his home, surrounded by the various screens and monitors that he'd long since set up by the time Gary had taken the guard contract on the station. He didn't know how Mar’in had set up his system so he could see every camera on the station, but it was going to be invaluable now.

"So how and more importantly; why and how did you scuff their horns? These things are serious." Alien sayings sometimes took Gary a moment or two to make the connection, but with taurian’s their horns were very special to them. To insult or even touch the horns that grew from their forehead wasa sure fire way of getting a punch to the mouth.

"I 'booped' their fucking 'snoot' man." Gary explained, unsure how else to put it.

A moment of silence hung over the line. Even Gary paused his crawling.

"Do you want to run that by me again?"

"I don't know, but pressing their snout and saying 'boop' is on par with a contract or some ancient ritual, now they're 'retrieving' me."

An absent 'huh' came over the radio.

"Look, I need an out, can you help?"

"I can get you to the hanger, but I can't be helping you steal something. Where are you?"

"Thats fair, I'm in a vent, moving away from my room."

Clacking of keys replaced silence as Martin concentrated, before the man started laughing to himself.

"I've got a system alert to a blockage in the ventilation, ways organic with an 'effluents or excretions' marker. The system thinks you're-!"

“Will you shut it!” Gary snapped as he grunted. he was forced to invert himself to descend a drop by pushing his back against a wall to stop him falling.

"I think... argh... the system... fuck... is-.."

"Take a descending path at the junction you're about to drop into."

A pause.

"They've raided your closet."

"Wat."

"I've got a smaller group of the canids on cams; they're sniffing a boot, I'm assuming it's yours? They're passing it around, they're all getting a good swiff... weird."

"Yeah, I was wearing it. They've got a fresh scent then, anywhere I've been; they'll search."

Gary was able to move quicker now, the shafts he was in were larger, able to allow him to crawl in his hands and knees rather than his stomach. He continued to move following Mar’in's instructions. He had to stop once when he could hear a commotion outside one of the vent covers he was about to pass by. Peeking around he saw large black claws attached to pitch black fur covered paws.

He whipped his head back just in time to hear familiar sniffing and snuffling. A gravelly tone spoke out; "He's close!"

This wasn't what made Gary shiver, it was the actual goddamned howls that echoed through the nearby vent, which were answered moments later by returned, more distant howls echoing through the shafts. It was eerie, and called back to a very old instinct of wolves in a dark forest many centuries back.

Gary reached the Hanger and found, through a stroke of luck the vent that he had made it to was in a quiet corner behind crates and boxes of a varied sort. Mar’in was a wizard and a saint, like usual. Gary would try and find him some original Earth Whiskey if he had to, to repay this.

His thoughts were interrupted however as all of a sudden there was a commotion over the radio.

Mar’in yelled, and there was a scuffle. Mar’in's voice was distant now, as if the headset he had been using had been removed, but Gary could hear what was happening in his distant room.

"You! You smell of him! Tell me where he is!" The 's' was drawn out that struck Gary as almost blood thirsty.

"Get fucked!" Mar’in shouted defiantly. A meaty 'thump' was broadcast before a riot broke out over the line. Gary knew better than to shout out, Mar’in could handle himself, he wasn’t at all like the demure male taurians from the rest of the galaxy and would give as good as he got.

In rapid order however, Gary could hear his friend grunting and swearing up a storm with rage filled indignation. The bloodthirsty voice returned, still distant, but the same volume as Mar’in making Gary believe that they were at least next to each other.

“We will lock down the station until our pack member is found…”

"Gary! Go now!" Mar’in bellowed.

The human needed no further prompt and gave a swift kick to the vent cover. His sprint from behind the crate was unmolested and he aimed towards a large dangerous looking ship that had its ramp open and seemed flight ready.

'They can bill me!' Gary thought to himself as he scrambled aboard, unaware of who the owner was. The thing was deserted, he ended up standing in front of the oversized pilot seat and began flipping the switches needed to make a hasty getaway. Most crafts, especially ones of Galactic Community design had very similar if not exact same designs overall. Whoever owned this, was part of the Community.

A low growl filled the cockpit, freezing Gary’s blood.

Gary stopped with his finger frozen over the last few dials he needed to adjust that prevented him from leaving.

"Worthy indeed...." the towering space werewolf growled from the cockpit entrance.

It was the caramel coloured one from the message in his quarters. It stood a good nine feet tall and was currently blocking his only escape. It crouched low, extending its arms out to the side, obsidian claws glinting in the artificial light. There was no easy way past and the cockpit only had one way in and one way out.

It yawned slowly, only it struck Gary that it wasn't yawning, it was coiling to attack.

This realisation saved him, for the next moment it lunged forward with deadly intent in its eyes. He threw himself low and avoided a heavy mass of muscle, fur and teeth as it sailed over head and landed roughly against the console.

By the time the man was on his feet once more however, she was on him. He pushed forward to run, but jaws clamped down from the crook of his neck, down across his chest. He expected teeth to pierce into him, but they merely held him in place as she bodily lifted him up and over with the strength of her neck alone, until he was thrown down against the metal floor with a resounding clang.

Pushing himself to his knees, the wind knocked from him, something heavy and warm straddled him from behind and crouched low, forcing him to stay on his hands and knees, wrapping a set of strong arms around his torso. Those arms held him against the canid that had defeated him in a single move. It panted from behind his head, it’s chest breathing in and out pressing against his back.

“Haa… when our leader had said that she had smelt a worthy addition to the pack, we doubted.”

A muzzle appeared from behind Gary’s head, its whiskers tickling his ear as it spoke slowly and menacingly.

“Resourceful, quick, the only reason you failed was that you were cornered. Worthy, indeed.”

A thick broad tongue drew itself across the side of Gary’s face, wicking the sweat away from him.

“Your choice, join us or not, we wished to test and you nearly bested the whole clan. Stories will be told about this day, but I would say… you will do well with us human…”

Goosebumps had covered the human from head to toe, so when the canid released him and stalked from the room, Gary remained knelt there on the cockpit floor. Looking up, he watched as she sashayed from the room, casting a glance and a wink over her shoulder before disappearing from view.

“What.. the f-”

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #canid #hfy #haso

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absurdthirst · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 2023: October 24th

Day 24: Bratty Sub, Anal/Oral Training, Caging

Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 812

Warnings: Caging, collaring, dom/sub dynamic, nude reader/clothed Marcus, oral (male receiving), praise

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

There’s always a slight rattle to the door, giving you time to look over. To reposition yourself the way that you know he prefers you to be sitting. The way a good girl greets him.

The bars of the cage are wide enough for you to stick your hand through. Comfortable enough that you can lay down when you curl up or sit up without feeling cramped. It was a very nice enclosure. You could definitely have worse.

Your collar tinkles slightly, the bell at the hollow of your throat is one that you had been embarrassed about when he had clipped it around your throat. Making him aware every time you move. It’s impossible to keep from moving when he’s thrusting into your body, filling you with his cock so hard you rock forward.

Coming to your hands and knees, you tilt your head down, keeping your eyes on the space right in front of the cage that he will be standing in just a few moments. The door swings open quietly, just a whisper of sound and then a pleased hum makes your cunt clench. He likes when you obey him without any reminding of what you need to do. Obviously today you had been positioned perfectly.

“Good girl.” Your entire body lights up, listening to the praise and the soft sound of his steps as he comes closer. He always moves so quietly, it’s not a heavy tread to make you wary but a soft step that has you yearning for his presence. His feet come into view, still wearing socks but he’s obviously removed his shoes. Still dressed in his smart suit pants and you wonder if he has to leave.

He is probably looking down, most likely is. Admiring the way your naked body is presented to him. You don’t move, trying to keep the bell quiet and be the door girl that he had praised when he walked in.

Your cage is your safe space. All the anxiety from the outside word is left outside the door of the metal crate. The lock protects you from what is beyond. Your worries are limited to just what pleases him and nothing else.

“Eyes up.” You eagerly start to lift your eyes from where they were focused on his socked feet. Sliding up his thighs and over his groin, his cock already hard underneath the layers that separate him from you. Your pussy throbs and he must know that because he hums again.

Continuing up his chest, covered in a snow white dress shirt and a tie that’s already been pulled loose from the knot at his throat, the tails hang loose, making him look even more handsome and slightly disheveled. The slight stubble that he complained about growing out because it itched, but he also preferred it over the smooth cheeked look that he had sported for a long time. You think that either look is sexy on him and say so when he asks you.

Over the aquiline nose that he hates and you adore, up to his warm, melted caramel eyes. Eyes that can appear darker when he’s upset or angry, but now they are soft, focused on you and betraying the lust that is swimming in them.

“Hello, pet.” He chuckles as he reaches down and flicks open the belt around his waist. “You have been so good for me today, haven’t you?”

You nod, eager to show him that you will continue to be good. “Yes sir.” You whisper quietly.

“It’s so good to see that you didn’t try to escape.” He smirks slightly at the lock that is on the door, preventing you from getting out even if you wanted to. “I always love when my good girl stays put. Enjoys the nice little spot that I’ve made for you. Isn’t it nice?”

“Yes sir.” You nod quickly again, agreeing with him.

Marcus pulls his cock out and pumps it a few times in his hands as he shuffles closer and slides it through the opening in the bars of the cage he has you in. “Continue being a good girl and suck daddy’s cock and I’ll let you out to fuck you this time.” He promises, deciding that he won’t fuck you through the cage like he had the last few times. You deserve a treat for not trying to get out. You deserve to come out for a few hours.

His cock twitches and he looks down expectantly. “Open that pretty mouth, sweetheart, daddy wants to cum.”

You moan and open your mouth obediently, eager to do exactly what he wishes so Marcus will let you out. He will keep his word. He always does. Despite the fact that Marcus Pike keeps you in a cage, he treats you like his perfect little pet and you love it. “Good girl.”

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike imagine

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ladykailitha · 2 years ago

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Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 6

Eddie’s not there yet. But the turn is just around the corner. He’s going to be hit with some really harsh truths that he’s going to have to overcome.

And I hope you’ll excuse the weird POV shift in the middle of the first part.

Open mic night and not judging a book by its cover.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Steve was waiting in line at his favorite coffee shop when the door rang out it’s little bell announcing the arrival of a new customer. He turned to see who the poor schmuck was that braved the cold blustery day to get their caffeine fix like he did.

And groaned.

Eddie Munson. Again.

Eddie spotted him and his grin was positively feral. “Harrington,” he greeted. “I didn’t think this place would be good enough for the likes of you. I would have expected you to go to one of those fancy pants places with smoked beans and expensive shit like that.”

Steve tilted his head back and shuffled forward as the line moved. “Look, man. I get it. You think I’m some rich snob with no discerning taste in anything. But can you just let me have my one luxury on my one day off a week in peace. Please!”

Eddie’s tongue dragged over his teeth and he shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. He watched as the line moved slowly in front of him, keeping an eye on Steve as it did so.

When Steve spotted him, his shoulders hunched and ducked his head down as if he was expecting a blow instead of verbal sparring. Now where had that instinct came from? Eddie pondered as he shuffled forward with the rest of the Sunday zombies in search of their caffeine fix.

Steve got the front of the line and rattled off his order. “One doppio and one caramel frappuccino, to go.” And then he sat down to wait for his order.

Eddie looked over at him wondering if the other cup was for Buckley. He got to order his large black coffee and sat down close to where Steve sat.

Just then Robin came bursting in. She scanned the room and spotted them both. She scowled at Eddie but flashed Steve the biggest grin. And she inserted herself between them.

Steve looked up at her with a blinding smile. “Hey, Robs.”

“Hey, dingus,” she said, bumping his shoulder. “How long you’ve been waiting?”

Steve looked at his watch. “About ten minutes.”

Robin sighed dramatically. “I wish they would put a second person on the coffee making on Sundays. They know how busy it gets.”

Steve shrugged. “Capitalism.”

“Well it sucks,” she grumbled, settling in for the wait.

About five minutes later the barista came hurrying over to them. She handed Robin the frappuccino and Steve the doppio.

They rolled their eyes and when the barista’s back was turned they swapped drinks.

“I don’t know why they think you’re the sweet fan,” Steve groused as they got up to leave.

“I know, right?” Robin said as they made their way out of the shop.

Eddie blinked and furrowed his brow in confusion. Steve liked froo-froo drinks? Huh.

Curiouser and curiouser.

He was going to have to come here on Sundays more often.

To say Eddie was nervous would be an understatement. Him and the Corroded Coffin boys had been playing together for ten years and knew how to rock it. But this was different. This was a chance they could make it big.

He helped his friends get their equipment on the stage. And he had to admit that maybe he had pre-judged the place. The stage was well lit and clean. The equipment was in good shape or even new. The bar itself was a little too new-agey for him, but it was nice.

He tuned his baby as Jeff and Brian tuned their instruments as well. Gareth tapped one of his drumsticks nervously on the e-snare.

Diamond came over to them just as they were finishing setting up. “Hey, guys, you about ready?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, five minutes?”

Diamond nodded back, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “This is just so great. I’ve never had a metal band in here before. Which is damn shame. They just don’t make them like Metallica and Mercyful Fate anymore.”

Eddie and this bandmates shared a glance.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a metal fan,” Jeff said honestly, gripping his guitar.

Diamond grinned. “Never judge a book by it’s cover boys.” He lifted his sleeve and showed them his Iron Maiden tattoo.

Eddie chuckled. “I’ve got one of those too.” And he pulled down his shirt to reveal the demon on his chest.

“Nice,” Diamond said with a grin. “I’ll let you buys finish up.” He pointed above them. “There’ll be a light above that will be red and then when it’s time for you to start, it’ll go green.”

Eddie looked up and saw what he meant. “Got it!”

Diamond scurried back to the bar to talk to the bartenders. He could see Chrissy chatting excitedly to him, bouncing up and down. She moved to go sit down at table near the front. Eddie smiled when he saw that his uncle was out there too.

He stepped up to the microphone and watched as the light changed from red to green. “Hey, Queen’s Crown! Thank you so much for having us. I’m Eddie and we are Corroded Coffin. We’ve got three great songs we hope you’ll love. The first is Boys Run, then Silent Killer, and our final number will be The Jester and the King.”

Just then Diamond moved behind the bar to reveal the other bartender, Garnet. Eddie and Garnet locked eyes and he knew he was fucked.

Steve fucking Harrington was Garnet.

Opal had come in and begged both Diamond and Steve to have her break around the time Corroded Coffin performed so she could properly listen to them play.

Steve and Diamond shared a glance and immediately agreed. Of course they’d let her watch her friends. They would be assholes to not to.

So they arranged for Diamond to take over during the fifteen minutes Corroded Coffin took the stage.

Things were going well, the bar was filled, booze was flowing freely, and the previous acts had been good.

And then Steve spotted the lead singer when he stepped up to the mic. But he couldn’t look away. Standing on the stage looking like some kind of rock god, was Eddie.

Eddie looked away first and Steve closed his eyes. He just prayed that Robin kept her cool long enough not to fuck this up.

She came bounding up the bar, just as Boys Run began. “Fucking hell. Did you know he was in a band?”

Steve shook his head. “Nope, first time hearing about it myself.”

She listed off table two’s orders and he got to work. He listened to them with a half an ear as people would come up and shout their orders in his face. But he got the gist of the songs. Boys Run was about growing up poor and living on the wrong side of town. Being expected to become a criminal just like his daddy and making it out anyway.

Silent Killer was about being queer in a small town. About how just looking at the same sex could get you killed. Steve related to that one so hard.

But the last one he only caught the vaguest impression of the song. It was the loudest and as far as Steve could tell the angriest. It was about an adoring jester who fell in love with a cruel and bitter king.

He didn’t like that one.

After their set, Chrissy came bounding up to them. “You guys were amazing!”

Eddie picked her up and swung her around, giving her a big kiss on the cheek. “Thanks to you!”

Chrissy laughed and swatted at him playfully. “The talent is all you guys, I just put you front and center where you deserve to be.”

Diamond came over to them as they packed up. “That was fucking fantastic. You boys got enough material for a two hour set?”

Eddie looked at his bandmates in shock. They all wore similar expressions of amazement.

“Yes, sir,” Gareth said with the biggest grin on his face. “Yes we do.”

Diamond clapped him and Eddie on the shoulders. “Brilliant! You boys free in two weeks?”

“Nothing we couldn’t heartlessly cancel,” Eddie replied with a cheeky grin.

Diamond winked and said, “I’ll see you boys then.” And then he walked off with a little wave of his hand over his shoulder.

Eddie looked back at Chrissy. “Did that just happen?”

She nodded, eyes wide. “Come on I want to introduce you to my co-workers before I have to go back to bar-tending.”

Eddie followed her, figuring that he could at least suck up playing nice to Steve for Chrissy.

They got five feet from the bar and he started backing up. “You know, I’ll meet them later, I really should get back to helping the guys.”

Chrissy looked over at the bar in confusion. All she could see was Topaz, Garnet, and Pearl chatting together.

Eddie on the other hand saw Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and holy fuck, Jonathan Byers, no doubt talking shit about his music and his band.

“I’ll grab us some beers,” she said instead of voicing her concern.

Eddie grinned. “Sounds good.”

Chrissy walked up to the bar with a small frown on her face. “My friend, Eddie didn’t want to meet you guys. It’s so weird. He was excited to meet before tonight.”

Jonathan coughed discreetly into his fist. “We’ve met.”

Chrissy furrowed her brow in confusion.

Robin rolled her eyes. “We all went to high school together. Eddie originally was the year above Garnet, and then he finally graduated with Topaz and me.”

Chrissy nodded. She knew it had taken him a bit to graduate from high school. “But shouldn’t he be at least a little interested in seeing how you’ve guys have been since you all graduated?”

Steve and Robin shared a glance.

“Um...” he hedged, “I don’t know how to say this without being a dick, so...Eddie hates my guts.”

Chrissy frowned and looked over at Eddie. “That doesn’t sound like him at all. Why?”

Steve just shrugged. “No fucking clue.”

“How did you meet Eddie?” Jonathan asked.

“Oh, we met at my last job,” Chrissy said, cheerfully. “He was fixing the owner’s line of catering trucks and we hit it off and dated for a while.”

Robin’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “You dated Eddie Munson?”

Chrissy grinned. “Sure. Until I realized I was lesbian and then it got a little awkward. But he got over it, and now we’re best friends.” She winked at Robin who turned a dark shade of red.

Steve cleared his throat. “Here are the beers. Go have fun. Diamond gave you the rest of the night off. Something about owing you one for bringing on the best bands that have ever graced his stage to his attention.”

Chrissy grinned. “Thanks!”

Steve just shook his head as she went bouncing back to the Corroded Coffin boys.

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Epilogue

Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1@scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #art school au #gay steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #ladykailtiha writes

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thesilliestrovingalive · 3 months ago

Text

Updated: November 23, 2024

Reworked Character #8: Clark Still

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death and human experimentation.

Real name: Clarkeston Vince Stillwater

Esper title: Avatar of Camouflage, Weight Negation, Vitality Syphoning, and Physical Adaptability

Alias: Tepid Strength

Occupation: Lieutenant Colonel of the Ikari Warriors and a tactical spy for the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. (formerly)

Retirement plans: Live in a cabin near a lake abundant with fish and become a professional photographer

Special skills: Survival mastery in many kinds of rough terrain, proficiency in wrestling and grappling, gathering information for missions, sniping with lightweight firearms, and ichthyology

Esper abilities: His go-to esper ability is the Super Argentine Backbreaker, which allows him to effortlessly lift and hurl a vast array of targets into the air, including humans, Martians, Invader Drones, smaller mutants, zombies, mummies, Sasquatches, medium to large-sized tanks, and helicopters. With this ability, he can catch his opponent up to three times in rapid succession, slamming their back into their shoulders before driving them forcefully into the ground.

When activating his infrared x-ray vision, he can see through walls and perceive the heat signatures of people. He has three frilly fish gills located underneath the area of his lungs, allowing him to adapt to an underwater environment. He possesses the cunning predatory instincts of a fox, the acute hearing of a deer, and the swift running speed of a rabbit. His skin contains four types of microscopic pigments: xanthophores, iridophores, melanophores, and leucophores. Unlike other animals, he possesses exceptional control over these specialised colour-changing pigments, enabling him to seamlessly blend into his surroundings. Additionally, he can temporarily render objects and people invisible by scratching or spitting on them.

He possesses an additional pair of lung-like organs situated on his upper back, between his spine, connected to a pouch located directly behind the pharynx and pointing towards the opening of his mouth. This pouch is sealed by two wrinkled skin flaps covered in mucousal hairs. It can be opened to release a purplish-green breath that contains a deadly poison, causing brain hemorrhaging and organ dysfunction. Clark is immune to the poison contained within his specialised lungs, but occasionally, he inadvertently inhales air into that specific organ. It triggers a cough due to the irritating sensations and causing him to release a small amount of his toxic breath.

Clark can open the small, closed holes located slightly below the centre of his palms, revealing a seven-petaled flower-like structure. From this, he can extend cartilage pipes covered in spikes with a metallic bronze sheen and a blunt, tri-holed tip from which flame-coloured veins are released. He uses the pipes to pierce the hearts or brains of individuals, utilising the emitted veins to syphon their life energy, thereby healing his wounds, revitalising his physical strength, and preventing his own demise.

Hobbies: Reading books on interesting subjects such as the biology of fish and the history of secret societies, collecting guns, playing casino games, photography, and fishing

Likes: Rugby, his sunglasses, reading gun catalogues, successful fishing expeditions (especially when he catches rare fish), and sharing a couple of drinks with Ralf

Dislikes: The awkward movement and gimmicky controls of the Slugs, being woken up by loud construction noises, people doing obviously stupid things, betrayal of trust, and arson

Favourite food: Oatmeal, tuna and onions pizza, and caramel and cheese popcorn

Sexuality: Heteroromantic asexual

Gender: Male

Age: 23 (in 2022), 29 (in 2028), 31 (in 2030), 33 (in 2032), 35 (in 2034), 42 (in 2041), 44 (in 2043), 45 (in 2044), and 48 (in 2047)

Blood type: A-

Weight: 231 lbs. (104 kg)

Design: He’s a 6’ 3” (190.5 cm) Canadian mesomorph with an inhumanly imposing build, robust musculature, and semi-sloping shoulders. He features light grey eyes flecked with magenta, warm beige skin, and a hairstyle reminiscent of Clark's dialogue portrait from KOF XIII, but with distinct differences: his locks are now rose gold with subtle curls, having previously been honey blonde before undergoing experimentation. His back is a dark green adorned with light yellow spots, while his belly boasts a creamy white hue, subtly outlined with a pale red.

A large patch of burned flesh extends from his left cheek, across his deltoid and shoulder, to the back of his trapezius. He bears a series of small scattered cut marks and a few stab wounds on his arms and torso. Additionally, he has two gunshot wounds, one located above his right kidney and the other near the left side of his navel. He has a long jagged scar on his right cheek, running from the underside of his ear to the centre of his upper lip. The skin on his arms and legs is a charred bluish-black and a few violet-threaded switches crisscrossing the centres of his forearms and thighs. His limbs can be a tad stiff at times, so he often asks Fio to give his limbs a well-kneaded massage.

Clark’s military gear consists of a light cyan tank top, a Bondi blue headband around his neck, and purplish-black elbow and knee pads. He always wears a cobalt blue cap with an embroidered Canada jay with outstretched wings, holding an olive branch in its talons. He wears purple-tinted sunglasses to hide a scar on his glabella, caused by Ralf's careless handling of his combat knife. He wears a cobalt blue waterproof vest adorned with the Ikari Warriors logo on the back and lined with grey fox fur. A white magnolia flower is pinned on the left side, just above his deltoid muscle.

He wears a fallow brown wristband with black spikes on his right hand and a blue-green glove with a black-trimmed silver-grey palm padding. He has cargo pants with an army green, brown, and silver-grey camouflage pattern, tucked into his Persian indigo jungle boots. Clark wears a fallow brown belt with six black pouches for bullets and a holster for his handgun. A Japanese violet waist pack, secured to the back of his belt, contains bandages, a small package of cotton swabs, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and four rechargeable batteries for his camera. He wears two black drop leg holsters, each featuring two pointed silvery stripes that form a triangular pattern, holding his combat knife on the right and an electrical baton on the left.

Over his tank top, he wears a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, carrying his walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. He wears two dark brown bandoliers, crossed in an X-shape, with the left one holding throwing knives and the right one holding ammunition for his handgun. Clark carries a fallow brown load-bearing backpack containing camping equipment, tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, a Black Aces Peacekeeper, a Minebea PM-9, a Benelli Supernova, a Mauser SP66, and a bluish-black digital camera. He also carries a comprehensive fishing kit, complete with various baits and lures, hooks, a rod, floats, monofilament lines, braided lines, fluorocarbon lines, and spincast, baitcasting, spinning, and fly reels. Additionally, he treasures a photo album filled with pictures he's taken from his teenage years to the present, holding it dear as a cherished keepsake.

He wears a pair of small silver hoop earrings and conceals a portable, jagged piece of Sol Dae Rokker's red gem in the left pocket of his cargo pants. The red gem appears to be powerless except when reacting to the presence of individuals with malicious intent or those who pose a potential threat.

Thanks to Tarma, he owns a key to access his periwinkle-coloured Velocette MAC motorcycle, which has dark cyan outlining.

Super Devil form: He’s a 16 ft (487.68 cm) animalistic entity with a slender build, disproportionately muscular arms, and a body encased in iridescent blue-grey scales. Clark boasts a feline head with the left side of his face gruesomely rotted, distinguished by rose gold fur, a silver-grey snout, and fallow brown eye patches. It has majestic Persian indigo elk antlers, elegantly adorned with white magnolia flowers and delicate patches of hanging moss. The head features two jutting fangs and luminous magenta eyes, accented with blue-green pupils. He boasts a majestic mane of fluffy light grey clouds and razor-sharp black claws that seem to be forged from a resilient, crystalline material. He wraps himself in a shawl of rippling bluish mist, surrounded by a light scattering of purple leaves that flutter around him, circling his head like a halo.

His fingers are adorned with light cyan webbing, while his back features six prominent vertical cobalt blue streaks. He possesses four majestic 17 ft (518.16 cm) Canada jay wings and an additional pair of arms situated on his inguinal regions. Clark’s lower half is that of a grey fox, featuring silver claws and twelve symmetrically arranged purplish-black eyes along both sides of its back, extending to the base of its tail. His tail, resembling that of a northern pike, boasts light yellow spots and pale red fins, but it's painfully entwined with a Bondi blue vine. The grey fox body's hind legs are replaced by fleshy, charred tree roots that twitch spasmodically and subtly ripple.

Character summary: He's a wise, introspective, hard-boiled, self-disciplined, and self-reliant pescatarian with a stoic demeanour, rarely showing emotion and possessing a taciturn personality. Initially shy and reserved around strangers, he gradually opens up and becomes more talkative and less aloof once he gets to know them. He exudes an unsettling calmness, intensely focused on his professional duties and the safety of others. While watchful and serious, he's not above showing a more playful side, engaging in witty banter and dark, dry humour. Clark often uses sarcasm to tease Ralf about his stubbornness and rowdiness, yet he deeply cherishes him as both his closest ally and surrogate brother. He genuinely worries about Ralf's well-being and will go to great lengths to ensure his happiness, offering comfort and support during difficult times. He frequently enjoys joking around with Ralf, while also keeping a watchful eye to prevent his friend from getting into trouble or engaging in destructive behaviours.

He’s fiercely loyal to Ralf, Heidern, Leona, and his comrades and friends, and will only consider betraying those close to him if presented with compelling reasons. He sympathises with Tequila, feeling that he unfairly bears the brunt of Gimlet's issues and is disappointed that Gimlet has forgotten many of the lessons he once learned from him. He serves as a father figure to Rumi, cherishing her company, particularly after a gruelling mission, and harbours concerns about her safety whenever she's deployed to the battlefield. He empathises with her struggles to overcome the trauma of losing her two closest friends, Chris and Alexander, and provides comfort during her darkest moments. He adores his pets, Sparky, a rambunctious and playful young charcoal Bengal cat with white “goggle” markings and black rosettes, and Mr. Kibleton, a grumpy but affectionate older chocolate smoke Exotic Shorthair cat. He’s devoted to giving them a happy and fulfilling life, providing attentive care and showering them with love and affection.

He has an incredibly close relationship with Leona, whom he views as the little sister he never had. He understands her struggles with forming social connections and respects her capabilities as a skilled fighter. He also holds her fearsome reputation in high esteem and values their mission partnerships, particularly when joined by Ralf and Fio. He maintains a warm rapport with Fio, appreciating her serene demeanour and exceptional culinary skills. Moreover, he actively supports her growth as a fighter, recognizing her aspirations to emulate the excellence of seasoned veterans Marco, Tarma, and Eri—a gesture Fio deeply appreciates. He regards Tequila as a wise, fatherly figure who inspires him, not just as a skilled covert agent and soldier, but also as someone who faces realistic struggles. He's genuinely surprised that Tequila hasn't retired yet, but understands that the Regular Army wouldn't readily let go of an esper with extensive military expertise.

He holds suspicions about the Regular Army's true activities behind the scenes. Certain things strike him as odd, such as special operatives being required to shoot innocent journalists on sight when they probe for classified information. He's also noticed that most people he's met, like Tarma and Alisa, seem brainwashed, displaying unwavering loyalty to the Regular Army and obliviousness to potential corruption. However, he keeps these thoughts private, having heard rumours that Regular Army whistleblowers face deadly consequences. Fearing for his safety, he prefers not to share his concerns with others.

Notably, aside from Ralf, he shows unexpected support and empathy towards those he genuinely cares about, offering a helping hand when they need it most. Clark is kind-hearted but brutally honest, harbouring a strong disdain for dishonesty, exploitation, and showboating. He has a low tolerance for liars, cheaters, and those who try to take advantage of him or his loved ones. With a keen eye for deceit, he isn't afraid to confront and expose wrongdoers, often calling them out in a blunt and uncompromising manner. He demonstrates significant respect for war veterans, elders, individuals he personally values as being heroic and level-headed, and authority figures who uphold moral justice.

He personally believes that everyone has the capacity to act in accordance with their own moral compass and make decisions based on their unique needs and values. Furthermore, he holds that every individual has an inherent and inalienable right to freedom and personal autonomy, and that suppressing this right is a violation of basic human dignity. It takes a lot for him to get angry, and when it happens, he appears menacing and difficult to approach. Clark gets easily annoyed when people do something he considers stupid or utterly absurd. He has a strong aversion to obstinate stubbornness and betrayal of trust, finding them frustrating and inconsiderate.

He's a light sleeper, prone to occasional sleep-talking and plagued by vivid nightmares that linger into the next day, haunting memories of the experiments he endured and the tragic loss of his parents and comrades. He has a melancholic and cynical side, and in the heat of battle, he sometimes trusts his instincts over strategic planning. Like Ralf, he enjoys diving headfirst into combat, using everything at his disposal, revealing his occasional impulsiveness and craving for adrenaline. He wouldn't hesitate to fiercely confront and verbally or physically shred anyone who tries to harm a child or one of his friends and comrades. He has some trauma that he's slowly coming to terms with, and a deep-seated fear of medical needles and laboratories, which causes him to panic when in their presence.

Backstory: Clarkeston Vince Stillwater was born on May 7, 1999 in Twillingate, Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada. He was born into a loving family that deeply valued the great outdoors, individual freedom, and their diverse expertise. His father, Kenrick Stillwater (commonly referred to as Kent), was a fisherman and a well-respected private detective, and his mother was a successful commercial photographer. He spent countless hours on fishing trips with his dad, Kent, who taught him the ins and outs of fishing, including which hooks and baits to use for each species. Kent also ignited his fascination with the criminal justice system and the complex psychology of criminals. Meanwhile, his mother nurtured his creative side, gifting him a digital camera and photo album on his sixth birthday. She guided him in taking professional-quality photographs, developing Polaroids, and exploring various photography genres.

At the age of 8, he tried out rugby and discovered a passion for the sport, although he only plays when he feels like it. He showed a natural talent for rugby, particularly when playing fullback during pickup games with friends in Crow Head at Sea Breeze Park. By the time he turned 11, he began regularly visiting a new library that had been built near his community two years earlier. He cherished the library's vast collection of intriguing books and the peaceful atmosphere, where patrons were genuinely quiet and respectful. His reading interests spanned various subjects, including criminology, military history, and the occult. He also enjoyed reading about secret societies, undercover operations, philosophical explorations of freedom, and ichthyology.

Before turning 12, he started experiencing symptoms such as persistent fatigue, chest pain, dizziness, recurring headaches, shortness of breath, and pulsatile tinnitus. As his condition worsened, he was forced to discontinue playing rugby altogether. This prompted concern from his parents, who quickly arranged a doctor's visit. Following a medical evaluation, he and his parents learned that he had been diagnosed with anemia, a blood disorder that runs in his father's family. The news disheartened him, but his parents did everything they could to keep him healthy, ensuring he received the best care for his condition. They encouraged him to continue pursuing his hobbies, focusing on those that were less physically taxing, such as reading and photography.

Despite his health complications, his life had been running smoothly, and he was doing alright in school, but this stability was short-lived. Just four months after his 14th birthday party, disaster struck. While he was asleep, his family home was engulfed in flames, set deliberately by unknown assailants seeking revenge against his father's refusal to comply with local criminal demands regarding fishing quotas. As the fire alarm blared, Clark caught a whiff of smoke and sprang out of bed, panic setting in as he heard the faint sound of firefighting sirens in the distance. In that harrowing moment, with smoke filling his lungs and fear gripping his heart, he experienced a sudden surge of energy coursing through his body.

Clark quickly ran out of his bedroom with his digital camera and photo album, desperately searching for his parents. But what he found was his mother, burning alive. Overcome with horror, he tried to exit the building, but the flames nearly trapped him. In a split second, he subconsciously summoned a harsh gust of wind, dissipating the flames and allowing him to escape. As he stumbled out, he saw Kent's lifeless body lying near the front porch, his throat slit and his face brutally stabbed multiple times. He broke down in tears, consumed by grief, cradling his father’s body in his arms. When the firefighters and police arrived, they were met with the devastating scene. One kind-hearted officer took Clark in, providing temporary shelter. Unbeknownst to him, the officer had also contacted the Regular Army. The next day, the Regular Army adopted him, providing shelter, food, clothes, and a new sense of purpose.

A few days after the incident, he received a revelation dream that unveiled his esper title and the key to unlocking his Super Devil form and harnessing his newfound abilities. However, the dream's cryptic nature left him struggling to fully grasp its meaning, hindering his ability to effectively wield his esper powers. Furthermore, he was physically weak due to his anemia, which made his esper training even more challenging and arduous. The Regular Army higher-ups took notice of his struggles and ordered the Amadeus Syndicate scientists to conduct experiments on him, aiming to enhance his abilities and overcome his limitations.

He doesn't recall much of this period in his life because he was constantly kept in a drowsy state. However, he recalls being injected with mysterious drugs that altered and reconstructed his muscles and brain chemistry, miraculously curing his anemia in the process. The experiments were agonising and left lasting scars, including charred bluish-black skin and stitches on his limbs. This incident would also cause him to have terrifying hallucinations, such as seeing blood pouring down the walls and hearing whispering voices that sang incoherent lullabies. It left him with a deep-seated fear of needles and laboratories as well as a profound mistrust of the Amadeus Syndicate. He discovered a new passion for wrestling and grappling, and began training in these disciplines to cope with the traumatising experiments, while also building his physical strength and self-defence skills.

During his basic training to become a peacekeeping scout for the Regular Army, he learned valuable lessons in discipline and camaraderie. However, he struggled to come to terms with intense feelings of abandonment and anger stemming from his parents' deaths. Tequila, noticing Clark's aloofness and difficulty connecting with others due to his timidity and unresolved trauma, approached him with kindness. He invited him to a trip to Yr Wyddfa in the Snowdonia region of North Wales, which Clark quietly accepted. The trip proved to be a turning point, as Tequila shared wise words on coping with his emotions and managing his past. From that day forward, Tequila became Clark's mentor, offering guidance and invaluable insights into the ways of a Regular Army soldier and Intelligence Agency agent.

After completing his training and successfully executing several missions as a tactical spy for the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. of the Intelligence Agency, Clark discovered a thriving mercenary group, the Ikari Warriors, was gaining popularity. He then attempted to resign from his position in the Regular Army, but initially faced resistance. However, following repeated requests, his superiors eventually accepted his resignation, recognizing that his unique expertise could be valuable in supporting the Ikari Warriors' missions by gathering crucial intelligence. He joined the Ikari Warriors after demonstrating his skills as a spy and esper by chasing down a disguised terrorist who had infiltrated the biennial tournament. He expressed his commitment to preserving global peace, earning his place among the team.

Upon joining, he befriended Leland and Eikichi, who were fascinated by his esper status and drawn to his kind and mellow demeanour. He also befriended Byron, bonding over their shared love of fishing. Clark’s heroics in single-handedly saving General Kawasaki's and 2nd Lieutenant Cook's mercenaries from a surprise counterattack by a powerful Mafia organisation earned him their respect. The news that the Ikari Warriors had recruited another esper caught his attention, but he was hesitant to approach Ralf. Later, they quickly became close friends after collaborating on a mission to take down a corrupt politician in Cambodia.

He frequently partnered with Ralf on numerous missions for the Ikari Warriors, including rescuing Elise, the U.S. President's daughter, from a criminal organisation and dismantling the Serapion Fellowship that was harming Latin America. He can recall a moment in Colombia where a Chocoan toadhead viper was preparing to bite Ralf from behind, but he effortlessly crushed it before it could strike. For his heroism in saving the President's daughter, he received a Medal of Honor, but he prefers to keep it private, as he dislikes drawing attention to himself. His unwavering loyalty and impressive successes as a fighter and spy earned him a promotion to Lieutenant Colonel.

However, he and Ralf suffered a series of devastating losses, including the deaths of General Kawasaki, 2nd Lieutenant Cook, Eikichi, Leland, and Byron in separate incidents, each of which was difficult to bear. During General Kawasaki's funeral, he remembered Tequila's words that the white magnolia symbolises deep, unspoken trust. He incorporated the flower into his attire as a reminder of his loyalty to those he cares about, both living and deceased.

According to popular belief, following Ralf's pivotal role in preventing a Rebel Army takeover of the United States, Clark played a key part in collaborating with Leona and Heidern to draw the Regular Army's attention and persuade them to establish a mercenary branch, ultimately forming an alliance with the Ikari Warriors.

After the Extraterrestrial Alliance Clash, Clark was slated to embark on a mission with Alisa Stewart to thwart a new uprising and prevent the Pipovulaj Army and their allies from activating a weapon potentially built by the Tuatha Dé Danann. However, Alisa politely declined his assistance, believing he had more important tasks to attend to, which didn't seem to bother him at all. Despite missing the opportunity to collaborate with someone outside of the Ikari Warriors, he respected her decision and wished her good luck on her mission.

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