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[realengaporahi]

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[muzansfangs]

Black Russian with muzan?

The scientist and his experiment.

Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, spanking, power imbalance, blood and gore, violence, mention to death and death threats, mention to cannibalism, body horror, abusive language, hair pulling, creampie, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, demon!reader, orgasm denial, language, degradation, sub!reader, dom!muzan, testing onto underlings;

Plot: Experimenting in his laboratory, Muzan had tried once again to come up with a way to finally withstand the sunlight. Not keen to test the potion on himself, he had summoned you, one of the new Upper Moons who had joined the higher ranks. Teasing him about the most likely negative outcome of his experiment, you ended up smashing the cruet containing the potion and you both inhaled the exhalation generated by the liquid. If you both were pissed off a minute before the accident, why were you now growling and tearing your clothes off of your bodies?

Drink chosen: BLACK RUSSIAN (spanking, hair pulling, orgasm denial, vaginal sex, creampie);

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Not a day can pass without you craving my presence, huh?” you sassily gloated, head dangling from the edge of the canopied bed of the infamous Kibutsuji Muzan to stare at his back, flexing underneath the silken fabric of his shirt with each movement he made. If you were a lower rank he would have most likely already killed you.

He never truly enjoyed your presence, only restraining from getting rid of you for your loyalty and lethality. You were not the strongest Upper Moon at his service, yet you were the only one who solely searched for the Slayers and consumed them to the bone. Your diet was remarkably satisfying for him. Pillars, new recruits, you never paid attention to their rank. When they died, their flesh tasted the same.

“Silence” Muzan flatly muttered, pouring some greenish substance into a still empty cruet. Sadly, he had summoned you for testing his new experiment and had no interest in striking up a conversation with you. Let alone actually enjoying your company.

Then again, you could not actually believe he was completely unaffected by your charm. Brows knitting together in indignation, you scoffed and rolled off of the bed. Your kimono had slided down your shoulders, cleavage on full display for a wandering eye to admire, but still Muzan blatantly ignored you. He deemed you something between a slimy worm and pretty much an annoying fly, to be correct. A slave to his whims, at best, a pawn in his scheme to conquer the sun and expand his reign of terror to the daylight.

Walking up to him, you slammed your hands onto his desk, paying no attention to the papers you were creasing, as your head tilted to the side to scrutinize the way his hands flipped the pages of his diary, or how he carefully grasped a pipette to mix up multicolored substances “Shush me again and I won’t drink up your shitty potion. Or shall I refer to it as your new failed attempt to imitate the skills of that doctor you regrettably murdered, huh?” you asserted, fed up with his attitude.

This bastard should have been glad you worked so hard to purge Japan from his natural born enemies. You even went to the extent of setting fire to the wisteria you ran into through your journeys. However, it was not enough with him. It was never enough.

Muzan’s irritation grew exponentially at your words, jaw clenching in unbridled rage at the mention of his incapacity to find the blue spider lily and improve the medicine his doctor had given him so many centuries ago. You should have been grateful he had even bothered turning you into a demon, welcoming you in his kingdom, sharing his blood with you, donating incommensurable power and eternal beauty. Still, ungratefully, there you were, daring to mock him for his unsuccess in upgrading a stupid medication. He was a man of intellect, he only lacked a mere ingredient to perfect that effing brew.

“Useless brat, wash your mouth, when you talk about me. — he hissed through gritted teeth, the nails in his right hand sharpening under your now wary gaze — Will you ever understand how insignificant to me you are and how privileged you have been for having stumbled on my path?” he bitterly stated, snapping his diary close with a dull thud and tossing it across the room in sheer wrath.

His fangs had protruded from his gums, shiny, pointy and deadly. The veins rooting on his face and his pupils reduced to two slits were your last warning. You tried to dodge his attack, but the dark blood dripping down the floor from your face, as your skin slowly regenerated, were events happening in a fraction of time not even your demonic eye had registered. The pain though was there, the wince burning your throat the proof he had already struck you, before you could react.

A slash straight on your cheek, deep cuts left by his claws still bleeding up led you to clasp your hand pathetically over the wounds, as if you could stop the flow. You cussed, fury glinting in your eyes, your subservient nature leaving space to an unprecedented thirst for revenge nothing could quench. You knew beating him was impossible. Lacking the skills was the least of your problems. Why? Because how could you defeat someone who could read your mind?

You growled, fangs on full display, before your good eye darted from his face to the desk. Fetching a blow directly at him would have never worked, but not even Lord Kibutsuji could prevent glass from shattering, or ink to restore on the paper.

The moment he understood your aim was not directed at him, he did not hesitate to wrap his hand around your throat. The air was sucked out of your lungs, feet leaving the ground, kicking at the air, as you glared in defiance at him. Maybe he thought he could physically stop you, but your blood demon technique worked without you touching the elements you wanted to destroy.

“Don’t you dare” he snarled at your face, his nails digging onto your smooth flesh drawing crescent bloody moons, tinging your white kimono in a crimson shade of red.

“Respectfully, f-fuck you” you choked out, smiling like a mad woman as you snapped your fingers and the very potion he had just ultimated exploded into a million splinters under his incredulous eyes. The sound of the glass shattering was the sign of your victory. You were probably going to die, your immortal life coming to an end by the very hands of the man who had gifted you that second chance of living like a supernatural being.

But you smiled, you never stopped smiling, not even as your forehead was smashed down against the edge of the desk. You laughed instead, an hysterical but genuine laughter that made Muzan’s blood boil as he tangled his fingers through your hair and strained your neck back to meet your eyes. Pain was long forgotten in that very moment. Every fiber of your body screamed to you that you had reached a level of freedom from him no one had ever been able to reach.

“You are a degenerate worm not deserving of existing. The sight of you makes me vomit” he deadpanned, forcing you back on your feet roughly and tightening the grip on your hair, as he watched the puddle of the liquid spilled sizzling onto the carpet underneath his feet, liquifying it. He had failed then. He had wasted his time once again. Two weeks spent in mixing together ingredients, studying new a formula, only to be reminded of the thruth you had shouted at his face: he could not match the skill of that damned doctor.

He never lost his composure, not even when he punished his underlings. But you had truly amazed him with your stupid antics and a kink for self-destructing choices. He had made up his mind. You could not live another day. You had to die, now. It would have not been enough to calm him down but it was going to be extremely satisfying anyway. He wanted to be covered in your blood, only to forget your name when he would have washed himself.

But no, he needed you to suffer. What a way to go down it would have been, if he devoured you?

“I was right, you’re too dumb to comprehend chemistry” you spluttered out, your vision finally restored albeit you were still bleeding out on the parquet.

The moment he heard the sound of you voice again, he pinned your head down onto what remained of his potion, disgust in his gaze as he watched you whimper out in pain as the liquid burned your skin. It was corrosive, your flesh on fire as he forced you to practically wipe the carpet with your cheek. The sadism in his action dripped hatred, while tears brimmed up in your eyes. You clawed at the carpet, disperately attempting to set yourself free, but Muzan had other plans for you. Kneeling down next to your writhing frame, he grinned, lifting your head up to examine the resault of his assault. Your cheek was deeply damaged, but you would have surely been able to regenerate it.

“Tell me, Y/N, would you rather have me consume you to the bone, or reduce you to nothing by biting chunks off of your body? Tell me, you stupid bitch” he chimed, your mouth going dry as you inhaled sharply, eyelids closing to avoid looking him in the eye.

Muzan clicked his tongue, impressed by your sudden silence. He leaned even closer, taking a whiff of the disturbing smell of that potion that had scarred your face. His lips curled into a crooked smile, his eyes watching intently the way you sobbed and your skin gradually restored its former smoothness. Your head was spinning at this point, breath uneven, whilst Muzan pushed you down onto the carpet once again. He had all the intent of beginning to devour you, his mouth salivating as he leaned down closer to you.

He barely had the time to pierce your jugular, though, that he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably. A boner in the middle of a hunt. This was not exactly what he had anticipated, just like the sweat beading his forehead and his heart pumping the blood faster in his veins. This was primal arousal, a need setting his body on fire as he pulled his bloodied mouth away from your neck. Your whine, pained, was strained with something else. Muzan saw the way you were writhing underneath him, chest heaving, as you pressed your thighs together.

Your dilated pupils, the way droplets of sweat were running down the valley of your breasts causing his cock to twitch into his undergarments. You were just as aroused as he was, thrashing onto the carpet in agony. He could smell your hormones, he could see the way you were looking at him questioningly. You were on fire.

“What the Hell have you done to me?” you blurted out, gripping the collar of his shirt so harshly it ended up being torn.

Muzan refused to believe this was the effect caused by his potion, but it was the only valid explanation to this. He bristled, swatting your hand away and growling at your face like an animal “Oh, believe him, I wanted to kill you, not to fuck you. — he snarled, grasping your jaw roughly and leaning his face down to let his lips hover over yours hazardously — Now, however, I have no other choice but to rut into someone. The question is: do you want to be that someone and be satisfied, or do you wish for me to end your misery in a more brutal and permanent way?” he hissed, watching the way you stared daggers at him.

You had a choice, that much was true. You did not want to die, you still had plenty of things to do before dying. The possibility to be eradicated from the world was not alluring anymore. Your clit throbbing between your legs, craving attention, some kind of friction, made you agree with him. You gritted your teeth, legs spread to let him accomodate between them.

“So be it” you stated, watching him fidget with his hands to unbuckle the belt keeping his trousers up.

It was not something you two could control. The fire coiling on your lower abdomen matched the pulsing desire in Muzan’s briefs. Gentleness, care were far away from them. The moment he had gotten rid of his clothes, he was already disrobing you of yours.

You thought it was going to be a regular intercourse, something to look back at with a weird sense of disgust and the thrill of the rush, but it turned out to be much more than that. Flipping you over your stomach, Muzan gripped your hair with one hand to force you to arch your spine. The bulbous tip of his cock dragging up and down your slippery heat to collect your juices.

“If you think I am merciful enough to grant you the sight of my face, you’re even more of a goose than I deemed you to be” he rasped out, your scalp stinging, as he yanked you back against his chest.

You whined, mouth ajar, as you felt him enter you. The friction was surprisingly smooth and pleasurable, your spongy walls sucking him in perfectly, whilst he grunted from behind you “Honored! You should feel honored I’m f-fucking you” he mocked you, hips driving into yours quickly, smacking your skin with a ferocity you had never experienced before.

You moaned out, unable to look back at his face, but capable to speak up again “I should’ve let you fuck your fist. How would it have felt, huh? Instead— fuck, instead, there you are, nestled into me and moaning like a pig to the slaughter… H-How low the Demon King has fallen” you taunted him nack, regretting your impudent display of courage instantly.

The smack on your rear felt like incandescent iron on your flesh, his cock rubbing insistently through your walls causing you to babble out incoherent words you could not repeat. Muzan was furious, his desire to ruin you and humiliate you blinding him as he felt you clamping down onto his length tightly. No, you did not deserve to reach your orgasm, but he did.

The sudden feeling of emptiness within you felt like a cold shower, as you gasped and tried to whip your head around to meet his gaze “What—”.

The audacity, the direspect you continued to show him could not proceed any further. He could not bear the sight of you for any longer.

Your protests falling deaf to his ears, as he pumped his shaft with one hand, lolling his head back in ecstasy as he felt his orgasm wash over him as a violent wave. The feeling of his seed dripping down over the curve of ass, warm, sticky, was the last thing you felt before you heard the biwa’s melody echo through the room and you fell naked and alone into a black-pitch forest.

Underserving of an answer. Underserving of a goodbye. You were nothing for him.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi, there! Well, guys, what can I say? Muzan is a walking red flag. Let’s be real, albeit I love studying his character and personality, he would very much do all of the atrocities you’ve read in my fic. I do not condone any of this and I never will, therefore I will keep on depicting him more human in my modern au’s and pretend he is a good person. Stay the fuck away from people like him, hons❤️

Writing is fun, but he is a monster.

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @mrskokushibo @doumadono

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐀 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → fluffy fluff, Flash

Summary → You forgot your sports bra for gym class but Peter is there to save the day.

The sun peeked over the rooftops of Midtown High School, casting a warm glow over the students gathered outside for gym class. Today’s challenge: a run through the vibrant streets of New York City. The gym teacher, Mr. Wilson's whistle blew, and students took off, their sneakers pounding against the pavement.

You sighed as you began to walk quickly rather than run. You had forgotten your sports bra that morning, and each step sent a painful reminder through your chest. Running was out of the question. You were used to pushing through discomfort, but today it felt especially hard.

Noticing your slower pace, Peter, your ever so loving and slightly overprotective boyfriend, quickly fell into step beside you. At 5 feet 8 inches, with a lean but strong frame, Peter was effortlessly athletic. His brown curls bounced as he jogged lightly, a bright smile on his face. “Come on, baby, I know you can run faster!” He encouraged, his tone sweet and full of energy.

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as you winced with each step. “Peter, I—” you started, but before you could finish, MJ and Betty slowed down to join you.

MJ smirked knowingly. “You’re completely oblivious, aren’t you, Parker?”

Betty giggled. “Seriously, Peter, you need to pay more attention.”

Peter, puzzled, looked from one girl to the other, his brows furrowing. “What? What do you mean?” He asked, genuinely concerned as he turned to you.

Before you could answer him, Flash Thompson, Midtown’s resident bully and Peter’s longtime enemy, jogged up to the group with a smirk. “What’s the holdup, Parker? Too busy fawning over your girlfriend to keep up?”

Peter sighed but didn’t respond to the teasing, as usual. Flash had been picking on him since middle school, and while the jabs had lessened over time, they still stung occasionally. But Peter wasn’t one to fight back with words. Instead, he focused on you, his concern overriding any annoyance he might have felt toward Flash.

You, on the other hand, gave Flash a flat look. “I’m fine, Flash. Just taking it easy today.”

Flash shrugged, his smirk growing as he looked at you. “You know, Y/n, you could always ditch Parker and upgrade to someone who can carry you the whole way. I’ve got the muscles for it,” he teased, flexing for effect.

MJ rolled her eyes, while Betty stifled a laugh. “Oh, please, Flash. As if she’d ever trade Peter for you,” MJ quipped, crossing her arms.

Flash feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Michelle. But I’m nothing if not persistent.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. Flash could be a pain, but he had his moments. “I’ll pass, but thanks for the offer.”

Peter, finally catching on to the situation, turned back to you. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you running?” He asked, concern deepening in his voice.

You bit your lip, feeling a little embarrassed but touched by his worry. “It’s just… I forgot my sports bra, Pete. Makes running a bit of a challenge, and my boobs are sore because I'm nearing my period,” you explained softly, motioning to your chest.

Realization dawned on Peter’s face, his eyes widening. “Why didn’t you say anything before?” His voice was laced with concern. “What can I do to help?”

You shook your head, giving him a gentle smile. “There’s nothing you can really do right now, babe. I just have to push through and get it done.”

Peter frowned deeply, clearly not satisfied with that answer. He paused, his mind racing for a solution. Suddenly, his face lit up with an idea. “I’ve got it! Just hop on my back!” He exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Flash, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Parker? You’re going to carry her all the way back? Good luck with that.”

MJ rolled her eyes again, unimpressed. “Like you could do any better, Flash.”

Betty, beside her, giggled. “Honestly, it's adorable.”

Peter, unfazed by Flash’s teasing, crouched down in front of you, his grin wide. “Get on, Y/n/n. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

You hesitated for a moment, still unsure, but the warmth in Peter’s eyes convinced you. Carefully, you climbed onto his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he stood up, adjusting to your weight with ease. He started walking again, this time carrying you effortlessly, a determined look on his face.

As you guys continued the route, more than a few students turned to watch, some with amused smiles, others with light chuckles. Ned jogged over, his face beaming with delight. “You two are so cute! I’ve got to get this on video,” he said, pulling out his phone.

Flash, jogging beside them, couldn’t resist one last jab. “Don’t drop her, Parker. She might realise she could’ve had the real deal instead,” he teased, but there was no real malice in his tone.

Peter just smiled, too focused on you to let Flash’s words bother him. “I won’t drop her. She’s too important to me.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling your heart swell with affection. “You’re crazy, you know that?” You murmured, but there was no mistaking the warmth in your voice.

“Crazy about you,” Peter replied with a wink.

When you guys finally made it back to the school, Peter gently let you down, his face flushed with exertion but his smile as bright as ever. “See? Told you we could do it!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a wave of affection wash over her. “Yeah, we did.” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, making him blush even more. “Thanks, Pete. You’re the best.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Anything for you, babe.”

As you walked back into the school together, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, forgetting your compression bra hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.

MJ, watching them with a soft smile, shook her head. “He’s such a dork.”

“But it's cute, though,” Betty added with a grin.

Flash, trailing behind, called out, “Hey, Parker! Don’t think this means you’ve won or anything. I’ll get my chance with Y/n one day!”

Peter just laughed, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, Flash.”

And as the bell rang, signalling the end of gym class, the group of friends headed inside, their laughter echoing through the halls. It was just another day at Midtown High, but for you, it was a reminder of how lucky you were to have someone like Peter—someone who would always carry you through the tough times, in more ways than one.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[justporo]

Bedroom Hymns

A still empty new home somwhere in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate. Nothing but a big mattress on the floor of your bedroom where Astarion and you have spent some days already, mostly naked, just indulging in whatever you want - and each other of course, whenever the flames started blazing. This time a spark is ignited when Astarion sees how his old shirt looks on you, how well it suits you. (NSFW)

PART 2 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: This is... just dirty smut. I have been thinking about writing this for literal months. But I'm happy I did because when Tav describes how she's become more confident? That's me just describing how I feel about writing smut. And yes, there will be a second part - with even more. Happy 2k followers, my dear horny gremlins!

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), premature orgasm, light dom/sub dynamic (if you squint but really they're both just taking the piss out of each other) Wordcount: 4,5k ~~~

A lot of things in your life had gone wrong - more than you could possibly ever count. Sometimes you had even wondered how you had even survived this far. In the last couple of months you had asked yourself that question quite a lot actually.

But then some things had gone very right. Often without you even knowing what was in store for you beforehand.

As you laid on your side on a single thick plush mattress in a massive room with deep red silk tapestries on the wall and polished wooden floors, high ceilings adorned with a shimmering and glittering chandelier in your newly acquired home in Baldur’s Gate, you realised that this was one of those things that had gone terribly right.

But all this wasn't even the best. The best thing that had - quite frankly - ever happened to you was lying right next to you: almost completely naked, only partly covered by some blankets and sheets, just as you were, and at the moment lecturing you on the importance of a coherent design concerning furniture, decor and colours. Long, elegant fingers waved around, gesticulating while full, soft lips kept moving, often smiling - occasionally allowing sharp fangs to be seen beneath - and red eyes began to glow whenever their gaze fell on you.

A small lantern was bathing the large and tall room in some cosy orange light - barely reaching the far corners of the room. It was almost reminiscent of all the nights you had spent in camp with nothing but the moon, stars and a crackling campfire for light. The mattress though was easily an impressive upgrade from your tattered bedrolls despite it being the only piece of furnishing the two of you currently owned.

You had stopped paying attention a fair while ago while Astarion kept waving his arms around, looking from you - softly nodding in agreement without hearing the words - to the ceiling and around the empty room. His curls were delightfully messed up and unorderly, making him look even more handsome for how at ease he was. And the easy smile that didn't seem to leave his lips these days, took quite a lot of those torturous years right off his face.

Your heart fluttered every time he looked over at you, with his bright red eyes sparkling at you and his smile involuntarily growing even broader.

And you saw the rest too: how he elegantly gesticulated with those skilled hands, how the muscles in his arms and chest flexed as he couldn't be bothered to keep still for just a second, the room never silent as long as he was there. You had fallen into easy, natural companionship with each other - as if you’d known each other for centuries already.

What choices you had made to end up right here, right now, you didn’t know. But you surely wouldn’t have changed a thing if this was to be the glorious result.

“Wouldn't you agree, my heart?” Astarion asked you, halting his ongoing infodump. He was looking at you. And by the way one of his eyebrows was raised critically he must have noticed your lapse in attention.

But in your defence, the way his lower abdomen disappeared in the sheets he had carelessly wrapped around his hips - at a very low point - would have distracted just about anyone. The way the lines of his muscles defined his lower body. Especially those two converging lines, starting at his slender hips, then going lower, leading to his…

Astarion cleared his throat. You'd been distracted yet again. 

“Darling, you have all the time in the world for staring, you don't need to get it done all at once.”

“I like being a step or two ahead though, love.”

The vampire scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance. You saw how it made his muscles contract just a tad and you bit your lip unconsciously.

“I know, darling, you're so diligent. But my eyes are up here, my sweet,” he answered. You heard the vicious teasing in his tone.

You ripped your gaze from his delectable torso and let it wander to his equally delectable face. He was grinning wolfishly at you, one eyebrow twitching up playfully. And now you couldn't help but blush a little. He often had that effect on you.

Astarion simply liked being looked at, and you - well - liked looking at him. But in his defence, he was also very good at reversing the roles, making you flustered whenever he couldn’t tear his eyes from you in return as if undressing you and having you right then and there in his mind even when you were in public. With the way he stared at you now, eyes slowly becoming half-lidded, you also had a fair idea where his mind was going right now.

Your vampire slowly turned to lay on his side, propping up his head on his arm, mirroring your pose exactly. A few of his curls were falling into his face when he slowly leaned forward, his smile already telling you what he was about. Some rustling you heard made you aware that the sheets around his hips were moving when he did. Your eyes flicked downward.

A small involuntary gasp left your lips when you noticed that the fabric had slipped even lower, the man now even more precariously covered than before. Your thoughts immediately took a tumble and stopped being coherent.

Astarion clicked his tongue, his free hand grabbed your chin firmly and made you look at him once more: “Love, we really need to talk about the fact how you lose the ability to focus so quickly.” The wolfish grin was back and he even leaned in a little bit closer still, causing the sheets to slide down just a bit more. A desperate noise caught deep in your throat.

You coughed. 

“In my defence, Astarion, you’re almost completely naked”, you whispered as his smirking lips hovered over yours.

“So are you, darling, but you don’t see me losing focus, do you?” Astarion replied, his voice dropping low until it was merely more than a rumble. His crimson eyes took their time as they wandered over every single one of your elegant curves. His tongue darted out to wet his lips unconsciously while with his eyes he devoured your naked body outlining against the dark of the room with the help of warm lantern light sharply illuminating the details of your form.

You swallowed and felt some pressure forming between your legs. The kind you had felt relentlessly almost all the time since you had fallen onto this single piece of furnishing you had bought so far for your new home.

By now it must have been a couple of days of the two of you just hanging out barely clothed in your new almost empty bedroom - just the huge mattress on the floor. And once you had fallen onto it, you hadn’t seen any sense in getting up again. Everything you needed was right there with you.

You had talked even more in the last couple of days than you had ever before. You had taken each other whenever lust had overcome you. And you had just allowed the exhaustion of months and months of fights, adventures and not knowing if you would live to see another sunrise to slowly leave both your bodies. Just sinking into the soft bedding, knowing you could let yourself fall fully with each other around, relaxing and recovering.

Well, you almost didn’t leave the makeshift bed. Only when some carnal urges, that Astarion very unfortunately couldn’t fulfil all by himself, were reminding you that you were still just a mortal did you get up and snuck out of the room. Always coming back to Astarion dramatically claiming he'd barely survived without your attention when you fell back into his arms on return.

Unfortunately you felt some of those urges creeping up on you this very moment, as Astarion was leaning in, about to initiate what surely would become another mind bending tumble in the sheets. But this would have to wait - at least for a few moments now.

And also he could get his ego knocked down a bit for being all too cocky just a few moments ago.

When the vampire was about to close his eyes to kiss you, you rolled back. And with that movement grabbed the blanket that was covering you and threw it at Astarion’s expectant face. As you heard him hiss you slid off the mattress with a cackle and grabbed the first piece of clothing you saw before you quickly, with bare feet, ran to slip out of the bedroom. The vampire ripped the blanket off his face, got to his knees and tried to grab you before you could leave his den but you were just as quick as him.

You heard Astarion curse under his breath but you were already closing the door behind you. The last thing the vampire saw of you, was how you had pulled on his old shirt and how it didn’t fully cover your butt as you slipped out the door, leaving barely anything to his vivid imagination.

Astarion cursed you under his breath and remained kneeling there, a martyr forced to give up his everything (temporarily). At least the view could have been worse. Thinking about how you had looked in his shirt immediately sent a jolt between his legs, making his length throb with need for you as he sat there and mourned the temporary loss of his lover. Only his imaginative mind kept him company until you came back.

When you returned shortly after you had brought a bottle of wine and two chalices (only bought yesterday on a whim) to make up for your rash departure. You slowly opened the door with your bare foot since both your hands were full and found Astarion exactly as you left him.

He was kneeling on the mattress still, the sheets draped over his thighs almost artfully, only barely covering him now. His hands were placed palm up on his wide spread legs, almost as if he was in prayer. And fitting with this was his bowed head, eyes closed, his ruffled curls covering part of his beautiful face.

Ethereal was the only word you could think of at that moment. Astarion looked like the statue of a forgotten god with how he knelt there: every single detail crafted to perfection. The light of the lantern illuminated every line of his naked body, giving the illusion of being carved out of immaculate marble capturing every single one of his sharp lines that worked so well in contrast to your softer ones.

And for some reason it seemed this unreal looking being had chosen to come down from his place among all other divine powers to bow down at your feet. And more even: he had devoted himself to you, body and soul, for the rest of his immortal days to lavishly praise you with all he had to offer.

You gasped as you took him in. Almost not being able to believe how you had gotten so lucky.

The vampire’s head snapped up when he heard the soft, low sound. The illusion of a statue, forever held captive in stone in perfect but lifeless detail, was broken. But the actual thing was so much better anyways. Astarion’s crimson eyes glinted at you in the low light, his body flexed, stone becoming liquid, while you slowly closed the door behind you again.

The vampire eyed you, drinking in the view of you wearing his shirt now being allowed more than just a glimpse: the sleeves sliding down your arms and bunching up around the elbows, the way the fabric spanned over your hips and thighs.

But mostly the vampire was mesmerised by how your breasts outlined against this old shirt of his: part of them obscured by the ruffles, but especially their peaks - hardened by the cold air - were clearly visible to him and made Astarion lose his focus for once. Seeing you this way immediately made lust rise up within him way more than any fantasy could, causing his length between his legs to twitch and slowly harden.

Feeling the tension in the room shift remarkably, you slowly stepped closer to your makeshift bed again. You saw desire light up the vampire’s eyes as he kept gazing upon you. His lips had parted and his expression spoke of nothing but hunger for you as he couldn’t get enough of the view of you wearing his clothes.

Maybe he wasn’t so much a heavenly being that had descended to you but something out of the most fiercely burning part of the hells, ready to drag you down with him and never let you leave again. You swallowed and felt how the vampire’s heated gaze alone made you feel a little hazy.

Had you known it was this easy to turn the table on Astarion in his own little game, you would have done this much earlier. And oh, what irony that while you could barely form a coherent thought once the vampire was naked before you, for him it was you putting on his old, almost threadbare camp shirt that seemingly made the pale elf forget everything else but how good it looked on you. And what it meant to him: that you were his.

The intensity on his face as he kept staring at you without moving was almost predator like and made you rub your thighs together in a desperate attempt to control the beginning pulses between your legs. But the damage was already done. And as if emboldened by the vampire’s attention you felt your hardening nipples rub against the fabric of Astarion’s shirt, pronouncing them even more and making you overly aware of them.

“Come here, darling,” the pale elf asked of you, lazily stretching out an arm towards you. All you could do in response was helplessly wave the bottle of wine and the chalices around, because some pragmatic part in your brain was still working and telling you that your hands were still full.

Astarion frowned slightly at you, annoyed by the delay in you obeying his demand.

“Put it down and then come here,” he ordered in a brisker tone now, you saw his gaze darkening as he almost growled at you.

And of course you followed his demand. There was nothing more you wanted actually as you looked down upon your nearly naked lover before you - demanding you join him again in your bed.

Hastily, you placed down the bottle and the cups and then moved over to Astarion. He was stretching out his arms to you, motioning to you to come sit on his lap.

You didn’t hesitate, but you didn’t rush either now. You placed one on one of his thighs, causing the fabric of his shirt to ride up your thigh so much that you were sure that he must be able to see your swelling core from his position. Immediately one of his hands slid up your pointed foot and over your shin, around to your calf, squeezing the muscle lightly, before it went on to the sensitive underside of your bare thigh.

And of course his eyes were immediately drawn to you bared before him, almost hypnotised and making a grunt catch in his throat at the sight of what you had to offer him. His crimson gaze found yours, his brows drawn together. You stayed like this in a moment of perfect stillness as you kept looking at each other, knowing that you’d be doomed to be each other’s continuous downfall. Then Astarion bit his lips, one canine catching on his bottom lip, his gaze falling back to what lay beneath your legs.

This alone was getting you so worked up that you let your head roll back and allowed a small but desperate moan to leave your lips. Astarion laughed softly at that, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. You moaned again and enjoyed the content humming you earned in response to your openly shown pleasure.

Months ago you would have been way too hesitant to act like this - not directly ashamed but surely too shy to really express yourself, to fully indulge. But Astarion had surely made your confidence rise to unknown heights with the way he always praised you, how he hungered for you and always made it known how much he desired you. And with teaching and showing you what pleasures he could let you have if only you trusted him. And you had done that from the beginning, your belief in him stronger than better judgement.

So there you were, spreading yourself to your lover, while you could observe his cock beginning to twitch below the thin sheets. This with how the corners of his mouth curled up into an almost feral grin was more than enough proof that you’d been doing it right, that he’d taught you well.

It made you feel powerful, knowing how you could make him lust for you. And it heightened your own pleasure knowing how easily you could turn him on.

“Darling,” Astarion mumbled, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip as you saw him basically salivating at the sight of you becoming a drenched mess for him, “would you mind coming just a little bit closer?” His gaze flicked from your core to you and then back down. He was eager and insatiable.

“Say please?”

His gaze snapped to yours, eyes narrowed while you grinned, both of you remembering a specific moment months ago when you had teased him just like that. And just like back then he would make you regret it later.

He rolled his head around, loosened his shoulders with an annoyed, dramatic sight.

“Please”, he basically purred when his head came back around.

Oh sure, if he was nice like that, you would come closer. You gave him a pleased smile and withdrew your leg from his, making Astarion’s unwilling hand drop to his thigh while he criticised the loss with a disgruntled groan. But you moved quickly to make up for it.

You stepped on the mattress, already incredibly close to him and enjoyed how attentively he stared up at you, patiently awaiting you now. It was almost fooling you how obediently he had been so far, how he waited for you. But seeing the mischievous sparkle in his ruby eyes and his signature smirk play on his lips told you that he was only playing coy until he had you where he wanted you.

Still you drew out the moment, enjoying your moment of having the upper hand. You let one hand enter his already dishevelled hair and began caressing his scalp with slow circles of your fingertips.

“You’re such a good, patient boy today, Astarion,” you teased him sweetly as you watched his eyes roll back from your soft, sensual caress. One eyebrow twitched at your praise. You knew he liked being praised. But then his gaze snapped back and his hands shot around your legs and pulled you in close against him by grabbing your butt.

You yelped and almost lost balance. Your hands searched for hold on his naked shoulders and the vampire had you firmly in his grasp. His splayed fingers squeezing your buttcheeks, half-covered by the shirt. He pressed his face between your legs. His long, straight nose almost already reached the swelling, sensitive bud there.

A helpless whimper escaped you and Astarion lifted his face again.

“Not so feisty now, are we? Don’t make me become impatient with you, sweetheart,” he told you in a mocking tone, pursing his lips, enjoying the view of you above him and emphasising his point with a firm slap on your butt. You merely gasped in response. Your mind was still trying to catch up.

“Now, move!”, he commanded with another low growl and wasted no time by moving one of your thighs to lift up your leg and placing it on his shoulder. You were balancing on one leg now. But your vampire was holding you securely, both hands on your ass again and pulling you as close as possible.

The fabric had already bunched up over your spread thigh now but you saw the unspoken command in Astarion’s narrowed eyes as he positioned you on himself and you lifted the shirt higher with one hand while letting the other enter his hair again.

And then Astarion wasted no more precious time and pressed his face between your legs again - now with no more fabric getting in his way. The tip of his tongue immediately and effortlessly found your pulsating clit and began working on it while his hands squeezed your butt deliciously.

Without hesitation he pressed his open mouth to your heated core, sucking on it and his tongue circling over and around the sensitive peak there, sending a million little lightning jolts through your body that quickly became stronger, conjuring a thunderstorm.

You moaned loudly now, not being able to control any of it anymore. Your hand formed a fist in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, which he answered with a pleased growl and pressing his tongue even harder against your clit.

He drove you up that mountain so quickly and violently you began seeing stars already while he kept pleasuring you with his eager mouth. The way he sucked on you, let his tongue slide between your folds and inside of you, having you almost fully climb onto his face, and the way you felt even his fangs graze you ever so lightly at your most sensitive part made you quickly lose all control.

Somewhere in the back of your mind clouded with boundless lust you were thankful that he held you so firmly it hurt, because your legs were both shaking uncontrollably the longer and fiercer he kept going. With glazed over eyes you allowed yourself to look down and enjoy the view of your lover devouring you as if he had been only put on this plane of existence to please you in this way. It amplified the pressure you felt building up in your lower body tenfold.

You neared the edge at breakneck speed. And your body was desperate for release, knowing the orgasm would be vicious. But there was something else you wanted. Instinctively you knew that he himself must be aching. You didn’t need to see his massive erection straining the sheets around his hips and the telltale wet spot at its peak to know that it was there - and to know that you wanted to feel him inside of you.

“Astarion,” you groaned breathlessly and used the rest of your control to pull on his hair. But you achieved nothing, merely making him almost purr from the exquisite pain you inflicted by pulling on his hair. He slapped your ass again. So hard you knew it would leave his handprint on your delicate skin this time. That and the sting from it made you bite your lip to barely stifle another desperate moan.

And then the last of your ability to form a simple coherent thought crumbled, the sheer, primal lust inside you taking over when Astarion changed the pace to some slow, hard movements with the tip of his tongue directly over your swollen clit. You gave in to it.

It was inevitable anyway. Only a few more flicks of the vampire’s skilled tongue and you were falling, your cunt throbbing violently despite nothing to clench around. 

Your hand was tugging hard on Astarion’s hair again, making him growl. Your face was contorted in overpowering pleasure as the stars you had seen before blew up to a whole firmament and made you lose your vision for a moment from how bright everything had become. Breathless, almost soundless noises left your wide open mouth as you scattered into a million pieces. And only Astarion’s firm arms around you made sure they would all stick together again once you would come down from your own galaxy again.

The vampire kept going for a few more swipes, pushing you just a tad further before it became fully unbearable and then withdrew to enjoy the fruits of his labour, your wetness coating his lips and chin. He absent-mindedly lapped it up as well as possible while he kept watching you writhe from the ecstasy he had provided you with.

When you had come back down enough from the high again to feel your own body, you slowly let your head fall forward again. Your legs felt weak and wobbly just as the rest of your body. You looked at your eager lover, who was licking up some of you from his lips still. Astarion looked mightily pleased with himself.

“That’s what you get for making me impatient, love,” he simply said and grinned haughtily, cocking his head as if he hadn’t just given you one of the most violent orgasms you had ever experienced - and hadn’t even allowed you to lay down for it.

He softly eased your leg off his shoulder but held you securely still to make sure you didn’t topple over. You softly tugged on his curls now and kept looking at him while still trying to catch your breath. The vampire placed soft kisses down the front of your shivering thighs after you had let the shirt drop again, his hands were carefully massaging your behind and the back of your thighs.

“Shame though,” you let out between gasps of air, “I would have loved to feel you inside of me.” You said it while you eyed his erect dick between his spread legs. The sight alone enough to get some pressure back up in your lower abdomen - despite your core still lazily throbbing from your last orgasm.

That made Astarion’s head snap back up again, his eyes sparkling at you as if asking how you still dared to talk back to him after what he had just made you experience. Then he closed his eyes and softly shook his head while his smirk turned wicked.

“Oh sweet darling,” he began and opened his eyes slowly to look at you from under his brows. His eyes were dark and the tip of his tongue darted out to lick over his lips focus wholly on you. The smirk grew even broader until you saw his fangs glint in the low lantern light.

His gaze was piercing, and his hands were once more squeezing your butt until it hurt pleasantly, plugging a whimper from you. You asked yourself if it had been clever to provoke a vampire who must be burning up with pleasure by now and aching for his own release judging by how you saw his erection twitch forcefully between his legs even with the fabric of the sheet covering it.

“What made you think I was even close to being done with you, my heart?”

PART 2

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06

[court-jobi]

i was just (re)reading your "reheat" oneshot and one part that stood out to me was izuku apparently "making a show" of him rolling up his shirt sleeves because reader finds it attractive. but my question is how did he find that out???????? did reader tell him that they find it to be alluring??? i need answers (just please dont do it nsfw, i'm not really into it lol) 👀👀

(btw i love your writing<3)

Ahhhh I'm SO glad someone caught this! I'm a sucker for the little details, and you found one of my favorites 🥰🥰 SFW it is~

And truly, it honestly shouldn't be such a saucy thought, Izuku rolling up his sleeves... It's a pure and simple fact that you love every bit of Izuku, whether he's dressed up or down. What's not to love? But here we are, and I'll tell ya exactly why.

How you came to enjoy this harmless little show was the sum of many 'harmless' moments, though they all have one thing in common:

Acts of Service.

Reheat shows it best, but here's how our darling Izuku reckoned it was a solid plan of distraction...

Pairing: Midoriya x reader

Reheat: ORIGINS

Izuku is an extremely thoughtful person, as we all know and love. He'll be in your corner to listen, tell you just what you need to hear, and do it all with a smile on his face. He'll also be the first to step up and offer his best if it would help make your life easier.

The first time you watched him do it was a night he came around while you were in a self-imposed baking marathon-- and were quickly running out of surface space in the kitchen. Once setting down his workout bag down at the dining table and shucking off his coat, he'd immediately come in reporting for duty...

'How can I help' chirps off Izuku's lips without missing a beat, and before you could even make mention of washing the dishes as you go (to help expedite the process later), he was already rolling the cuffs of his hoodie to keep the ends from getting absolutely soaked. When he catches you staring from he oven range at what he's doing, he assumes it stems from feeling guilty about putting him to work, or refusing the idea that he'd tidy up for you. It's such a high pile that's filling both sides of the sink already, and it's threatening to topple over onto your tray of still-cooling macarons.

He sees it as a stellar trade off: you cook, he cleans. It's a no-brainer in his book!

The next time he does it, you're visiting him at UA while he's hosting some late afternoon office hours (in case some students wish to stop by for some pre-exam help). It's a slow afternoon, and when he complains about it over text, you surprise him with a little green tea boba pick-me-up. By the time you arrive, he's on the phone with some insurance company about a rate change that he's been meaning to call about.

He's a bit grumpy over it. Why they keep hiking prices like this, he'll never fully understand, but would kill for some transparency in billing, y'know?

"No- I'm not interested in upgrading the policy, it's covering everything I need it to -back at my starting rate. No, no dependents. No secondary vehicles either-- maam, I rent an apartment; I don't even own a home yet- why would I need a byline for acreage protection?!"

Poor Izuku's brows are tented as he navigates the skin sufferable conversation... But all the while, he's flexing -a flick of the wrist in each movement- as he cuffs his sleeves towards his elbows.

You don't realize you're staring until he stops moving. Looking up to his eyes again, they're more confused at you now, with a built shoulder precariously balancing his phone to his ear.

'What's wrong?' he mouths to you.

You immediately shake your head, and just motion for him to carry on. You rest your chin in your hand when he continues, but he doesn't say more on the topic when the woman returns from the other end of the line with more bad news.

"-b-boating protec-?? Ma'am, may I be perfectly real with you? I-I am on a teacher's salary! Can I please just revert back to what I was paying before so I don't have to auction off my AllMight limited editions??"

So firm, so capable... so stupidly attractive doing such a small thing... Izuku maybe a bit preoccupied at the moment, but he's starting to catch onto you, for there's gotta be something behind your interest in his forearms.

Finally, it all clicks into place. In Hatsume's Tech Lab, where you're picking up Izuku from after an off-site field trip of sorts for his support course students does Izuku finally get what's going on.

He's taken up some elective classes for their class route, in addition to his hero course homeroom. In the R&D department, he's trying on some gloves and explaining their features to you in excitement for its intended recipient, his good friend Shoto Todoroki, while his students all bound off elsewhere.

"He even came up with the design; pretty stylish, I'd say! Much better than his first costume, less bulky as well. Mei says we're the same size so I could try for fit before she ships them out to him- hhhnr... well- still kinda hard to- c'you hold this one, baby? here, lemme get them on for real.."

Setting the gloves to your waiting hands, your eyes double in interest. Tongue wets your lips slightly. And shockingly, your mouth moves before you can stop yourself.

"Oooo, my lucky day~ Roll 'em up, babe~"

"that's the problem with this tech. There's safety resistance in the cuffs: they're great for compression, but it's a bit tight for tryin' to get over-- w-wait. What?"

Izuku chances a look at you in that one, thirsty moment.

"Do you-- like this?"

"Mhm~"

".. just- rolling up my sleeves? Like this?"

"Mhmmm~"

Though you've solidly convinced Izuku that his scars are to be worshipped just as much as his heart, he can't believe your starry-eyed look while he does this.

Cheeky, Izuku thinks surely you're messing with him, "Goodness the way you're looking at me, you'd think I was showing you my six pack..."

"Eh, that's nothin'," you tease, "impressive, don't get me wrong, Mr. Midoriya- but anyone can work out. This.. takes finesse."

Izuku sprouted a warming blush over his ears, wrenching a calm exterior into place despite your loving teases.

"Finesse, huh?-"

"Slower, babe," you sink onto a palm again, batting your eyes again, "you look good like this."

"Y-You're a mess..."

"I'm your mess now, handsome."

Izuku peeks up and out towards the hall having just settling his right cuff into place. Then, he's looking back to you all mushy at what he finds there. Complete love. It's earned you a kiss -to affirm his feelings for you, of course!- but also to get you to stop fawning over him where anyone could see.

Your fingers will trail over the sensitive undersides of his wrists while he cups your cheeks into place. Any insecurity he may have once held about his scarring has been snuffed out by you a long time ago, but Izuku now realizes it's not just an accepted sight, but a welcome one.

"Good to know this is a sure method to get your attention, honey," he'll whisper between kisses.

It's the preemptive motive that gets you:

Izuku is so ready and willing to help anyone at a moment's notice, to take charge and get things done: to the point where watching him prep to get his weathered hands involved is an attractive sight. He's the first to go the extra mile for you, no ask too big or favor too small.

It might be a quick adjustment to his outfit for comfort, but the look suits him so well. So yes, even as he rolls up his shirt sleeves, you find him insanely, unfairly handsome.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 45 (Improving the Clinic)

QUESTION: Why is it so difficult to raise the clinic's rating? Has anyone ever gotten it to five stars? How??

Brindleton Pawspital was steadily improving, but every day at work was hard. Heather now had three vet techs who improved their skills every day (even Marcus Flex!), but they all had a long way to go to catch up to Heather.

She still worked long hours, earning more four-star reviews and increasing her clinic's reputation. But four stars wasn't five and left plenty of room for improvement, so she set to work upgrading the décor to add to the ambiance. She added a box of pet toys and an espresso machine in the lobby, new artwork, and better couches. Conrad liked to send her flowers, and the arrangements always brightened up her office.

She placed a community board by the edge of the square and installed a unique statue crafted from bird feathers found by her cats. A vendor at the docks traded for it when she'd collected twelve different bird feathers. He said it was a Spotted Sixam bird, but her mother was an astrobotanist and she'd never heard of one before. Nonetheless, she displayed the local artwork proudly outside her clinic.

At the end of another successful workday, she convened with Kaori Hayashi, her best vet tech, to discuss her newest hire. "Do you think Rico will be able to get his skills up as naturally as you did?"

Kaori shrugged. "He's great with the animals but he's a bit slow yet. But he's enthusiastic, and keeping him away from Marcus for most of the day was pretty smart!"

Marcus was still prone to take too long on his exams, even if he was getting better. "I don't want Rico learning how to do everything the hard way. Thanks for taking him under your wing."

"It's no problem, Doc. Oh, by the way: Petcare keeps sending emails about raising our prices." Kaori smirked as Heather rolled her eyes. As important as it was for her to raise money for the buyout, she was well known for quality service and products at reasonable prices. She didn’t want to change for Petcare or Landgraab Corp.

"They think if they just keep sending price suggestion emails, I'll suddenly stop ignoring them," she scoffed. "We can raise enough to buy them out without making the clients pay more."

"There is one thing we could try. I saw it on Simdit a while ago, but a friend of mine has a connection to this old armour-maker from Tartosa. His suits of armour actually make people so happy they drop more money. He says businesses always notice better ratings once they put them in every room."

"Sometimes I feel like nothing I do can improve our rating, no matter how successful we are." Heather sighed. "Do the statues really work that well?"

"My friend swears they're really special."

"A suit of armour seems so out of place in a vet clinic..."

"He says people like what they like, and they like these statues! Besides, when have you ever really cared about aesthetics?"

She had a point there. "How much do they cost?"

"They're expensive," she said, pulling out that f%$@*& lump of clay. "Probably eight or nine thousand simoleons apiece."

Heather cringed. "The clinic doesn't have near that kind of money right now."

"I don't blame you for not jumping at the chance. It sounds like a crazy idea, but my friend's a good dude. I trust him on this, but maybe you should focus on paying off the Landgraabs first."

Heather was proud of the way she was running the clinic. If she worked hard and saved properly, she'd be rid of Nancy and her company sooner than later.

There was little she wanted more. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[wolven91]

Massacre of Xey Station

The canid flexed their foot, wiggling the toes and rolling their ankle as their knee rested over the other one.

The human watched with fascination. The canid wasn't the human's guardian, but this close to the edge of GC space meant that there was a permanent honour guard of canids that surrounded the vulptanis guardian and the human.

They were currently laying in the tall grass of the station orchid. They were in the surprisingly quiet 'Food sector' of the station. The walls were covered in perfectly manicured mushroom farms, whilst the tallest structures were layered greenhouses, each with sun lamps warming the vegetation that grew beneath them.

The orchid was Oscar's favourite place in the station. Not everyone was allowed in the food sector, certainly not to just sit under the trees here, but being an endangered species had its perks sometimes. The vulptanis, who was reviewing a data slate while he rested against a tree nearby had no worries or fears for the human here.

Ignoring that the canids were veterans, a whole pack who had survived their tour, if not in one piece, were now 'proving' themselves still capable by keeping the human alive. The human was in the secure food sector, surrounded by canids that had their honour and capability on the line. The vulptanis smirked at the idea of a greasy pirate trying something. Best of luck to them.

"That's so cool." Mumbled Oscar at the intricate display of the various pieces and parts working together seamlessly.

"So, the mechanical bit is the 'easy' bit." Growled the canid, a female and leader of the pack. She was laying next to the human while her pack were more on the periphery.

"It's the wet work inside that takes too long. They grow nerves into the metal, so I can wiggle a toe without any tendons or muscles telling the metal what to do." The 'not-quite-grumpy' solider explained while wiggling one toe.

"Does it hurt?" Asked the young man, concern in his voice. The leader smiled, feeling the warmth from the tiny thing.

"Nah. I didn't spring for fancy sensors beside pressure. I can tell when I have my foot on the floor, but not if I'm standing on something sharp." She explained with a shrug.

"How complicated can they get?" He asked, sitting up and looking at it from different angles as he observed the various tiny pistons and wires.

"Not much." She grumbled, obviously annoyed about something.

"Ah man, I'd get like jet boots or something. Fly about, y'know?" Oscar replied, missing her tone and speaking with a dreamier expression, imagining himself as a form of sci-fi Iron Man. The canid snorted at that, grinning widely at his enthusiasm, but shook her great mane as her shoulders sagged under the weight of reality.

"That's illegal." Piped up the vulptanis before frowning at something on his screen, tapping at it with a dull claw.

"Jet boots?" Asked the human, although the orange furred alien wasn't paying attention.

"Mm?" Mumbled the vulptanis absently, having not listened to the question so the canid answered the human instead.

"Theres's regulations." The canid began before ticking the aspects off on her fingers. "Can't be too advanced. Non-wartime mods can only provide the same kind of movement or abilities as your body could realistically do. No overt power sources, only passive improvements. Being lighter, faster, is fine. Concealed mechanics isn't."

"What? Why? Upgrade! It's the future!" Demanded the young man! How dare they curb his sudden plans for a flying suit of armour.

"Because of the Xuy Station Massacre." Put in the vulptanis again. "A canid went mad and began-" But his words were cut off by the canid, who sat up and draped her arms over her knees.

"You're telling it wrong." She stated plainly. The vulptanis's head snapped up and fixed her with a hard gaze that did nothing to her at all.

"Excuse you?" He demanded. The leader shrugged.

"You're telling it wrong." She repeated.

"Fine! You tell him." The guardian scoffed, once again focusing on his data slate and dismissing the others.

"Gladly." Growled the canid before turning to face the human, resting and hand against the ground and resting her biological leg on top of the mechanical one. She used her spare are to gesticulate as she spoke and Oscar gave her full attention, enraptured from the first word into her story.

"So! There was this canid, he got put on guard duty for these archaeologists. They're going to some black site, all hush hush. During the deployment, the whole team gets wiped! He's the only survivor and even then, he only survived on a miracle." The canid explained, gesturing at her own limbs to explain how cut up the one in the story was. "He lost all his limbs, shot over a hundred times-"

A snort from the vulptanis halted the story, but this just had the canid swing her head around to fix the lounging creature with a stare as she repeated herself pointedly.

"Over a hundred times. The folk who picked him up say the only reason they found him was because of his fury, wailing out into the stars."

Oscar leant forward and rested his head against his hands, listening without complaint or question. The canid sat up properly and leant in, lowering her voice so that the story was more intimate and personal.

"Anyway, he gets back to civilisation and gets his paycheque. Huge bonus, and he's let go from the corp, injured and all that. Fast forward a few months, he shows up at Xey Station."

Oscar blinked, unaware of the name, but the tone she used made him assume it was important or a station in a key position. Seemingly aware of the human's ignorance, the vulptanis piped up again.

"Xey Station is a station only one jump away from the GC ring world. It's important. It's where many of the leaders' extended families are." He supplied without much else. The canid gave him a glance, but also a shrug, seemingly agreeing with his description before turning back to Oscar.

"Yeah, that's a point, Xey isn't backwater like this place. Anyway, he shows up to Xey, but they don't know its him. He looks different, he doesn't look like a canid anymore." She explained with a wicked grin. For all the leader's blood lust and history of sanctioned violence, the human was discovering she was a fantastic storyteller.

"What did he look like?" Oscar asked, deliberately falling into her trap of baiting his curiosity.

"A powered down chintian battle mech." She stated in clear, pointed, concise, words.

"He plays dead while they ship him into the storage area, totally unaware he's a living breathing thing. That's when he goes to the Settlement Sector and starts laying waste to everybody!" She declares, her arms going wide in sweeping gestures as she spoke. The energy in her body and words got the human's heart beating faster as she went into graphic details.

"He's got mortars! He's got airbursts! He even had some jury-rigged energy dissipation field! This thing was home made and all just body mods that he adjusted. The scanners didn't pick them up as weapons because they were all marked and tagged as prosthetics!" She explained with a shocked tone.

"It was a dark day for the GC." Grumbled the vulptanis. The canid nodded, but still addressed Oscar.

"And he screwed everyone else who wanted something more than a replacement leg." Finished the canid, clicking her claws against her own metal leg.

"That's why you can't get fancier limbs?" The humans asked and the canid growled and nodded.

"Yeah, you kill a few thousand of the law-maker's nearest and dearest? They come down hard on the problem. Didn't want another massacre." She offered with a shrug. The group fell into a silence for a while before Oscar frowned and breathed in before pausing.

"What caused him to snap?"

The leader shuffled her head to fix the human with her gaze. She blinked; taken aback by the question she hadn't considered.

"Rumour was he saw something that broke his mind at the dig. No one really asked more than that." She explained with a frown before adding; "But, he was definitely the bad guy. The GC showed recordings of him during the assault; kept saying he wasn't 'made this way' and he's 'more than a tool'. "

"That's true?" The human asked, curious.

"Mm, saw the recordings myself. We all have. It's taught in school to kids. Not the killing, they blur that, but it's not hard to search it."

Oscar lay in the orchid for a while longer, contemplating what it was that had burned the canid's mind so severely.

[zevrra]

—what i desire

synopsis: You need an upgrade but being short on cash, you go to your fav ripperdoc in hopes he’ll give you what you need; instead you get something you’ve always wanted.

tags: 18(+) only, mdni, suggestive content, no plot/only p&rn, mentions of f-m oral sex, teasing, slight dirty talk, swearing, mention of a facial, slight mentions of overstim, bottom(ish)!vik, the reader is v

“C’mon Vik,” You say, a pleading tone to your voice. “I’m in the big leagues now. Gotta have the good stuff.”

The older man stares at you. Listening to your pleas with deafening ears. You had finally gotten the chance for a big break in your mercenary work. This job would be the one to put your name up there with some of NC’s legends. Go big or go home was your motto after all. And you would need the proper cyberware to make that happen. Money was just a little too tight right now to be buying said cyberware.

“Plus you’re the best ripperdoc in all of Night City!” You sing in a light hearted tune. Hoping to sway the older man into giving you some new upgrades.

Viktor scoffs at the bribery of words, arms crossed over his broad chest as he looks slightly down at you. “Tell me something I don’t know, kid.” He replies. A smirk is plastered across his face. You can’t see his eyes fully behind the sunglasses he wears, probably wears them even in his sleep, but the smile is enough to tell you; you just might be getting your way.

Or so you think.

“I can’t keep passing out favors hun. You still owe me eddies from the last set I gave you.” Vik sighs, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. He too still had to make a living and you knew that.

The distant sound of whatever fight Vik’s put on plays somewhere in the background. For the few years you’ve known Vik now, and how you’ve grown to know his love for the ring, he’s tried to sign you up every day since. He obviously missed fighting. So much so he hoped you would one day decide to try your hand at it. But the sound of the fight is the only thing that draws between you two for the moment; as you watch Vik struggle internally.

On one hand, he needed to make money. Money wasn’t everything to him but to Night City it certainly was. You’d bleed gold before blood in this forsaken city. But on the other hand he was weak to you and you knew that too. Knew his gaze softened when you approached him. Or the several times he’d ring your holo just to see how you were doing. Maybe it was just an old man thing to do but you had your doubts. You could always feel the longing in his words when speaking to you. Could feel his yearning from across the room sometimes.

No matter what, at the end of the day, Vik liked you; and would try his best to give you what you wanted. And although you have come to like, and enjoy his company just as much, telling him was far harder than just teasing the older man.

“Please Viky. This’ll be the last time I ask, I promise.” You plead as your hands squish together, begging Vik to give you the newest implants he had. You always paid your dues when you could and Vik knew that.

Yet Viktor sighs, unsure if he should cave for you like he had done so many times before. And that was the dilemma he was struggling with now. He liked you. He really did. But some things were just too complicated. “V…” He begins but you cut him off before he can vocally tell you no and set everything to stone.

“Vik you know I’m good for my word,” You mumble, hands reaching out to grab the thickness of one of Vik’s biceps. Fingers running along the years of toned muscle he oh so casually flexes. “But if you’re having doubts…let me pay in another way.”

The suggestion takes Vik by total surprise. At first he’s confused at what you’re offering. His eyes scan your face behind his glasses as he tries to figure out what you mean. Your hand is very distracting on his arm. Tracing over every little smooth line etched into his skin. You had always wanted Vik. From the moment you two had first met. He was far too caring for a street punk like you. Without him, your leap up the food chain would never have happened. It was all thanks to him. You push your fingers under the hem of his shirt sleeve, making sure your eyes meet his. You could come up with the money within a few weeks but now, all of this, was just an excuse to act on your desires.

That's when Vik pieces all of the puzzle together. The sudden realization makes his face blush bright red. He lifts his free hand to his lips, clearing his throat in an attempt to say something but he’s unable to speak at all.

You push your luck just that much more by running a hand up to his neck. Moving slowly against his body. Feeling the flush of his skin against the pads of your fingertips. Can feel the heat of his body temperature rise with just a single touch of your hand. And for just a brief moment before you’re running a hand down his well toned chest. Even at his age he was in far better shape than most men in Night City; and that meant plenty of women most likely wanted him.

But you were the only one he wanted.

Your hand continues to travel the front of Vik’s body. Running across the buttons of his blue shirt, one by one. Teasing the older man as he stood and let you do it. Your eyes watch his every move; looking for any sign that he may get upset about you teasing him too much. Watch as his head tilts to the side, palm still pressed to his lips, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses he seemingly never takes off, and the darkening blush across his cheeks. You wonder if the red sprawling across his cheeks would reach his ears or better yet, his chest. You’d give anything to find out— and you sure as hell planned to find out.

Vik continues to shyly look away from you. So many wild thoughts must be running through his head. How he wanted all of this; how he should tell you to stop. How many times had he stayed up till the dead of night with you on his mind. In more than one way. At this point you’re just waiting for him to yell at you. To tell you off for fooling around, give you the implants, and write this off as a funny joke between friends. Except it wasn’t a joke and you didn’t want to stop. And by his silence, he didn’t want you to stop either.

“Mmm nothing to say?” You tease the older man with a smirk. Gripping the bottom of his tucked in shirt and giving it a tug to pull it loose from his jeans. He slightly jerks at the motion, tensing under your advancements as his shirt falls around his hips. With his shirt out of the way, you begin to drop down onto your knees. Your fingers move to wrap around the buckle of his belt, keeping your gaze fixed on his flushed face as you unbuckle the belt, and then slip the leather fabric out of the loops of his waistband. “Cute.”

“V.” Viktor practically growls, suddenly finding his voice. The realization of how quickly he was losing his composure was evident now. He knew he was mere seconds away from folding completely for you; just as he knew he should stop this. But knowing and doing are two different things because he certainly does nothing as your fingers clasp around the button on his pants.

“Relax, relax.” You laugh with a scrunch of your nose. Then you’re finally unbuttoning the front of his pants. You pop the metal button out of its secured place before you’re ever so slowly pulling down the zipper.

You unfold your prize like an eager winner. His black jeans come undone easily; and as you gently tug his jeans down, you smile at the reveal of the white of his boxers and the semi-hardening of his cock beneath. You knew you had wanted Vik before but now it was so clear to you as you sit on your knees before him.

You bite your bottom lip as your gaze slips over his body. Eyes flicking all the way up his chest until you’re surely meeting his eyes behind those pesky glasses. And your gaze stays there as your hands rub over the front of his boxers. Putting just a little pressure on the stiffness of his cock in an attempt to make him fully erect. “Look at me.” You softly demand with a small laugh, forcing him to watch your every move as you begin to stroke him through the fabric. Hand moving from the base, outlining every inch of his rather large shaft, to the wet tip, then back down to the base once again. And like a charm, your movement and eye contact does the trick fairly quickly. As now the great Viktor Vektor is solid as a rock beneath your touch.

His hand still covers his mouth but it does nothing to stifle the deep groan he makes as his underwear slides down. Finally letting his cock bounce free into the open air. You can’t help but breathe hot against his wet skin. Your eyes finally break from his to look at the massive member before you. The tip is an angry red and begging to be touched. The muscles of his abdomen flex and quiver at the building up of his want and desire. You were so close you could almost taste it. And you would. Even his body knew that.

Nothing stops you as your hand finally wraps around his twitching cock. The instant relief of being touched has Vik groaning behind his hand. His hips stutter forward, pushing himself further into your grasp to get any kind of friction. To push himself closer to the edge of satisfaction.

“Fuck, V.” Vik barely whispers. He stumbles just slightly back to put all of his weight fully on the desk behind him. His free hand reaches down to grab at his shirt. Tugging it up to get a better look at what you’re doing. Now you have his full unyielding attention.

Good.

You can’t help but lick your lips before diving into your meal. Mouth pressing right up against the head of his cock as you smear whatever precum you quickly could across your lips. The little bit of liquid helps you to push the tip of his cock into your mouth far easier than if you had tried to go without. Even from just his head you knew your jaw was in for a workout. He wasn’t long or relatively packing in the length department but his girth? Shit. Fitting all of him inside was going to be a little harder than you anticipated. Seeing as just the tip was already laying your tongue out flat inside of your mouth.

Him being thicker than you had realized would not stop you though. You wanted this man and you wanted him to feel good. Wanted Vik to feel so good that he would never allow anyone else the chance.

You press on with your eager notions. Using your hand wrapped around his base to keep him feeling good while you slowly got accustomed to his girth. Taking inch by inch until saliva quickly builds up in your mouth, threatening to spill over your lips with every bob of your head. Not a bad thing in this situation, as every drop would be used to work on sucking him off while sinking further down his shaft.

One hand grips at his thighs as you swallow more of him. The other hand is wrapped around the base of his cock to keep him still now. Spit finally dribbles down your chin as you’ve barely managed to hit the half way mark. Every breath you take is a chore now; forcing you to focus on not choking on him as he fills up every inch of your mouth.

You lean back just barely to move back to the tip. Sucking in any leftover spit and precum, tongue rolling over the underside of his head, before you’re pushing yourself further down. Using your newfound leverage to finally push the rest of his shaft between your lips. The hand on the base of his cock quickly moves away as your lips are steadily replacing where your hand once held him.

And with a few more seconds of dragging your mouth across the hardened flesh with every bob of your head, your nose firmly presses against his abdomen as you’ve finally taken all of Vik inside of your mouth.

Vik is a mess beneath you. He’s moan after moan with every single one of your movements. If not for the hand pressed tightly on his mouth you’re sure he’d be a loud, whiny, whimpering mess. Mhm, just how you want him to be. You can feel his thigh tensing under your fingers as he tries his hardest to still himself from thrusting his hips forward. Can feel him twitch in the back of your throat. And by the looks of his heaving chest, he was trying really hard not to unravel. But with your mouth wrapped around him, swallowing him up, sucking him off; it was making it harder and harder for him to remain composed.

With your nose pressed against his body, you manage to breathe in his scent far more easier than you could just hanging beside him. Now you could smell the cheap cologne; a mix of sandalwood and fire. Something strong yet tender just like he is. It made you groan.

Vik mimics your groan as you begin to move again after the brief break. Your mouth tightens around his base, quickly moving along the shaft, all the way back up to the tip, while your hand returns to follow suit. And just like that, you must be doing a good job at it too, as Vik loses his once restrained composure. His can’t help it when his hips begin to move with your flow. Thrusting forward when your mouth hits his tip, needing just that little bit more of friction to keep him feeling good. Chasing your lips in his high as if he’s almost afraid you’ll stop.

With every eager thrust of his hips, you knew he wouldn’t last long. His thrusts were gaining speed, pushing quicker into your lips; his chest heaving with every moan of your name, and you can feel his cock twitching with every brush against the back of your throat.

Good thing he was getting close too. At this point your jaw could barely take much more.

“Fuck, fuck! I’m,” Vik moans as his hand finally slips from his lips. It moves to grip the desk behind him for any sort of stability. From your crouched position you can clearly see the whites of his knuckles as he grips onto his desk. “Close!” Vik barks, ending in a whine as his hips continue to move, never once stopping as he seeks out the finish line of this little pleasant moment.

And it’s truly the sight of Viktor being so disheveled that keeps you going. His usual composure of this stoic, tough boxer, is crumbling apart every second you last that much longer. Now he’s just a man of pleasure; seeking the end of his high as he begs you for it.

His glasses slip off the bridge of his nose that finally gives you the chance to get a really ood look at his face. His eyes are lighter than you remembered and with the flush of his face, they stand out even more in the dim light of his office. And when he looks at you with those pretty, unfocused, blurry eyes full of lust— your heart pounds against your ribcage.

You crave for him like never before. Every night you wanted him to look at you like that. Down the bridge of his nose, hunched before his thighs, letting him fuck into your mouth as he gazes at you taking him so well. The thought makes you moan around the thick of his cock and that’s all he needs before his final straw snaps.

His hips stutter as he breaks down, cursing every curse word that’s ever been uttered before. The whine of your name falls short on his lips as he catches up to his high. Vik cums into the back of your throat. But you figured he was more of a visual man. You pull your mouth off of his twitching cock with a pop, with your hand you run up and down his shaft, pushing out the last few ropes of his cum onto your lips, hitting some of your cheek as well. Your hand keeps moving until Vik is visibly trembling from the quick on set of overstimulation.

Vik’s eyes stare at you but they don’t really see you at the moment. His mind is probably running a mile a minute while he also thinks of nothing at all. His chest falls and rises with every pant. The light of his eyes stares at the mess he’s made across your face.

Your thumb swipes across the mess that sits along your bottom lip. Flicking your tongue out to lick the sticky substance off of your thumb as a smile breaks out on your lips ; staring right back up at Vik as he’s slowly coming down from his high.

“Oh, Vik,” You hum all sweet and gentle to the dazed man. Like the devilish creature that you are, your fingers are once again wrapping around his re-hardening cock. “Wanna keep going?”

[vexwerewolf]

Hello, it is I once again, here with a weird meme build. How would you go about building a hacker Swallowtail at LL6? Standard or Ranger, it doesn't matter which

As it happens, Hacktail isn't a meme build at all - due to the Swallowtail's expansive 20 Sensors and innate +1 tech attack, it's an extremely viable Support pick.

-- SSC Swallowtail @ LL6 -- [ LICENSES ] SSC Swallowtail 2, SSC Dusk Wing 1, HORUS Goblin 1, HORUS Minotaur 2 [ CORE BONUSES ] The Lesson of the Held Image, Full Subjectivity Sync [ TALENTS ] Hacker 3, Spotter 2, Skirmisher 2, Field Analyst 1, Nuclear Cavalier 1 [ STATS ] HULL:2 AGI:2 SYS:2 ENGI:2 STRUCTURE:4 HP:15 ARMOR:0 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:6 REPAIR:6 TECH ATK:+3 LIMITED:+1 SPD:7 EVA:14 EDEF:12 SENSE:20 SAVE:13 [ WEAPONS ] FLEX MOUNT: Assault Rifle AUX/AUX MOUNT: Nexus (Light) / Nexus (Light) [ SYSTEMS ] H0R_OS System Upgrade I, Neurospike, Metafold Carver, Personalizations, Lotus Projector, Manipulators

I call this one Hacking The Omninet.

Firstly, let's discuss the basics. This build is fragile, as all systems-first Swallowtail builds are going to be. This mech needs heavy co-ordination with your team to focus down threats. Employ cover rigorously, stay behind the lines and make liberal use of the Invisibility from Integrated Cloak. Low survivability is the price you pay for being able to turn an enemy comp inside out.

Your armament is not going to be used very much, and so is very simple - an Assault Rifle for Reliable damage, and dual Light Nexi for enemies with high Evasion. Oracle LMG-Is consume 1 SP a pop and we're not going to sacrifice system space for guns we might never fire.

We have Personalizations on there for a tiny bit of extra HP, and Manipulators for one simple reason: sacrificial system. We don't want to lose our hacking systems, and so if we take Structure damage and lose a system, we dump the robo-hands.

With all that out of the way, let's get to the meat and potatoes of this build: the hacking tools.

We start with H0R_OS System Upgrade I, possibly the best control tool in the game, definitely the best hacking tool in the game. Puppet System lets you reposition enemies in a straight line equal to their Speed any number of times, and unlike every other form of involuntary movement in the game, it triggers reactions, meaning you can open enemies up to Overwatch attacks from your allies. Meanwhile, Eject Power Cores inflicts Jammed, shutting down an enemy's weapons and tech attacks. It isn't repeatable on the same enemy, but this often doesn't matter - shutting down a heavy hitter's weapons for a single turn often buys enough time for your team to kill them outright.

Moving on to Neurospike, a much slept-on Invade system from the Dusk Wing. We're mostly in this for Shrike Code, which is a very powerful control tool in Lancer's mid-to-late game. At Tiers 2 and 3, a lot of enemy NPC classes get multiattacks, allowing them to use their weapon twice or even thrice every time they attack with it (including during Overwatch). But Shrike Code applies 2 heat per attack, not per action, meaning that a multiattacker who attacks twice will accrue 4 heat in addition to the (at least) 2 heat you put on them with Invade, which can put them close to or at their heat cap. Neurospike also provides the more situational but still useful Mirage, which allows you to make a member of your team (including you) Invisible to a member of the enemy team.

The third and final Invade suite, Metafold Carver, is the weirdest and most difficult to use correctly, but once you master it, it becomes one of the most effective support tools in the game. The biggest trick here is that the primary targets for both of its options are not your enemies - they're your allies. Your allies can choose to accept an Invade from you without taking heat and without it counting as an attack. Once you understand this, your third eye will open and the absurd power of Metafold Carver will be unlocked.

Ophidian Trek allows you to teleport your target a minimum of 2 and a maximum of seven spaces directly towards you. This is impossibly useful for yanking your allies out of melee combat or dangerous terrain, or summoning help if you're getting flanked. You generally don't want to use this on enemies who are already close to you, but pulling hostile backliners towards your team's melee specialist is exceptionally cool and funny.

Fold Space completely removes its target from the battlefield until they start their next turn. The problem with using this on enemies is that they can decide when their turn starts, and if they have an activation remaining, it will often be "immediately after your turn ends," wasting this power - although if they've already taken their turn, you can use it to ruin enemies that rely on reactions to be useful, such as the Sentinel or Archer.

The primary utility of Fold Space, however, is that it's without a doubt the most powerful ally-focused Invade in the game. This ability can quite literally be a lifesaver. Ally went too hard on their reactor and became Exposed? Fold Space. Ally took a bad structure roll and became Stunned? Fold Space. Ally being swarmed by melee NPCs? Fold Space. Ally messing up the shot of your team's artillery? Fold Space. Ally talking too much? Fold Space. You make them completely invulnerable at the "cost" of removing them from the battlefield, which they only even care about if they're a reaction-focused build, and they decide how long they want to stay on vacation, because they can return to the battlefield at any time by starting their turn.

In terms of other support abilities, we have a beautiful SSC/HORUS combo: at the start of an ally's turn, you can Lock On to an enemy as a reaction with Lesson of the Held Image and use your Prophetic Scanners frame trait to inflict Shredded as well. This lets you strip all damage reduction off an enemy just before your ally winds up to hit them, with no chance to react or clear it.

You also have Lotus Projector to help your allies deal with Invisible enemies - standard Swallowtail stuff.

As for talents, we have Hacker to give you even more Invade options (mostly Hack./Slash for shutting down enemy tech attackers) and help with heatgunning (Nuclear Cavalier 1 is in there too, just for kicks), Spotter to provide aim assist and hand out free Lock Ons and Field Analyst to help avoid "missed it by that much" situations.

As previously stated, this is a heavily team-focused build. You are a Support/Controller to the maximum here. Expect to go entire fights without doing a single point of damage. Coordinate heavily with your team to focus targets down and ensure that you stay safe while lighting targets up for them.

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

prompt: spider takes the bullet, not neteyam. quaritch will do anything to get his son back, anything. he'll even work with augustine's recom.

(warnings for discussions of past torture and character death, although really an astonishingly gen ending to this magnificent journey)

ao3

"They won't help you," he says. "You know that, right?"

Augustine stares at him, face studiously blank the way it used to get during long board meetings. He can see her tail twitching, though, ears flickering like she's trying to ward off a nonexistent fly.

Behind her, farther down the bloodstained rock, Mo'at'ite hisses, knuckles white around her bow (that bow, that fuckingbow, but Quaritch won't look at it, anymore than he'll look at the body at Augustine's feet). She and Sully both have their weapons drawn, but Quaritch isn't the slow target he was in the AMP anymore and Augustine's standing tall, fucking up their sightlines.

"Kiri," Sully says, voice taut. "You gotta get out of the way, babygirl--"

Quaritch barks a laugh, the ragged kind that comes when you're teetering on the edge of hysteria. "Babygirl? You shitting me?" He shakes his head. "Come the fuck on, doc. The Augustine I know would've put out her cigarette on any man who tried that shit with her."

"She isn't Grace," Sully says hoarsely. "Kiri, stand down now. That's an order."

Quaritch doesn't even dignify that shit with a response, just rolls his eyes (easier to avoid looking at the ground, at the body). Augustine doesn't seem particularly moved either, her fingers flexing as she adjusts her stance.

She could kill him, Quaritch knows, without any help from her so-called mommy and daddy. He can feel the power crackling in the air around her, buzzing around her fists, blood-metallic on his tongue. It makes his kuru ache, same way it had in the woods--back then, he'd been too focused on Spider Spider Spider to really pay attention.

He knows better, now. He'd seen what she'd done to Lyle after Sully's voice has crackled over the line, sharp and cold and still shaking ever so slightly: your boy's dead, one of your dumb fucking grunts shot him. Let my daughters go, or you're next. Sully's always been a shit liar, but it was the panicked look at Lyle's face that made it impossible to deny.

Fucking Lyle. He's lucky the way Augustine turned his brain to slurry when she did, before Quaritch could get his hands on him. Lucky he doesn't have to fucking stand here and not look at the thing on the ground, the thing, the body--

"You think they'll even let you bury him?" he asks. "The locals won't stand to have this shit in their holy grounds--they'll probably give him back to Spellman so he can get dumped in a fucking crematorium. You'll never see your Monkey Boy again."

The pipsqueak with the eyebrows, tail lashing. "Don't you talk to her--" he growls, but Augustine cuts him off.

"I'll never see him either way." Her voice is hoarse--Quaritch remembers the way she screamed on the ship, like something had been torn loose in her and would never be put right. He knows that feeling.

"Kiri," the older boy says, the one Lyle had screamed something about trying to shoot instead as his blood ran out of his eyes. "Kir, please, come on--"

"We've got his memories," Quaritch cuts him off fast, can't let her get swayed by her fake family now. "At Bridgehead, we--we scanned them. Got a copy." If they're still there; they better be still there. The kid had thrown a shitfit in the scanner like every time before, but he'd still gone into the revamped Soul Drive with the rest of them.

"You hurt him." There's blood dripping from the tips of her fingers; he wonders if Sully and the rest have realized it's not hers.

"I did," Quaritch admits, because he doesn't have any time to fuck around. "Whatever you want to call me, whatever I've done, you're right. But I want him back, you understand? I mean it, you know I do."

She does. He can feel this fucking eyes of hers burn into him, bright with whatever wacky upgrades she got from her own trip through the other side, flaying him deeply enough she can see Spider Socorro's name written on her heart, same way it's written on hers. Kid's always had that fucking way about him.

"I want him back and none of these assholes will help, none of them could if they fucking wanted to, but I can." Quaritch takes a step forward and the Sullys tense, knuckles white on their weapons. "And you--you've got the know-how, you're the egghead I need in my corner. You brought yourself back, didn't you?"

"She didn't--" Sully whines.

"Didn't she?" Quaritch doesn't bother looking at him, keeps his eyes firmly on Augustine as he holds out a hand. She looks at it, then at him, those little flashy lights twinkling across her skin like she's rebooting. Remembering.

"I offered you a chance to make amends and work on this moon together, once." She knows what he's talking about, he can see it. "You told me to go stick my dick in a woodchipper, and you were right. But I don't care about that anymore, I don't give a fuck about this stupid mudball we're on or the stupid mud ball we're from, I just want my son."

His gaze flicks to her family, just for a second, then back to her. "They don't see anything about you except the meatsuit, same way those RDA pukes did with me. And they don't see anything about--" His breath catches, twists, "him, except that he's a big fucking mistake, and they'll do everything they can to forget he ever existed."

Silence. Her jaw works and he wonders if she wishes she had a cigarette right now--seeing her without one feels more jarring than the baby face or the blue skin. 

"Kiri," the little girl whines, reaching out before the Metkayina girl carefully tugs her back. "Kiri, please."

Augustine's hair rustles with a wind that doesn't exist and her fists curls tight at her side, fingers trembling. Quaritch wonders if she's going to burn him like she burned Lyle, or maybe just call up something big and toothy to rip him apart.

And she might have, if Sully hadn't decided to lunge across the island in a few big, stupid strides, clapping his hand down her shoulder. "Kiri," he gasps, tugging her back. "Come on--"

Her eyes flare (panic anger fear, quick and smashed-up the way it always came with her) and she whirls, queue crackling, palms raised high. Sully goes staggering backward with a yelp, clutching his bleeding nose, and Mo'at'ite lunges to catch him before his head hits the rock. Augustine watches him topple, stunned still, gaping in horror.

Then she moves. Turns and scoops the...body up from the ground, cradling it (him) carefully to her chest even as she hustles down the rock. No vocalization, but her banshee swoops down from the sky, landing with a whomp of wings next to Cupcake, and she's hauling the body (Spider) onto the saddle before Quaritch's got his first leg up Cupcake's side.

"Kir!" Pipsqueak yells, rushing to their side, frantic. "Kir, wait, don't--"

She holds out a hand and he jerks to a half, from his own volition or hers it's hard to say. "Look after them," she says, and then Quaritch is fitting his own queue home, not that Cupcake needs more encouragement to go go go as they soar into the sky.

They go swoop out over the smoldering sea, Augustine's hair--Spider's hair--whipped gently by the wind. Quaritch glances over his shoulder to see the Sullys vanishing, a scatter of blue dots rapidly fading from view.

"They won't follow us," Augustine calls flatly. "Their ikran won't listen until we're out of range." She shoots him a cold look, hand resting on his son's spine--Quaritch doubts he's getting near that body any time soon, but that doesn't matter, he'll make it not matter. "Lead the way, Ranger Rick."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, just to be an asshole, tossing off a snide salute before leaning into the next turn. She bares her teeth the way the kid used and follows, banshees swerving together to meet the rising sun.

[itchyeye]

~1.5k words of two small scenes from a larger wip au; elias upgrades jon’s wardrobe

In his early morning reverie, he failed to plant his smooth-soled workboot with enough resolve on the next rain slicked marble step and felt himself slip. He realized that rather than ascending the Institute steps, they were rushing up eagerly to meet his face. Before he had time to stick his arm out to try and break his short, wet fall, someone had grabbed him and pulled him back upright. His rescuer pulled harder than Jon's frame would have warranted, and he staggered backwards, catching himself with a hand against their chest.

It was Elias. His left hand was wrapped firmly around Jon's upper arm, his right held his large black umbrella over them both. He wore a knee length burgundy overcoat and black leather gloves.

"Alright, Jon?"

"Yes, thank you." Jon said dryly.  His raincoat swished under Elias' fingers. He made no move to free himself from his grip.

I should take my hand off his chest, Jon thought. He heard a bus pass over the street below them, its brakes squealing in their efforts against the slick pavement. I should say something and I should take my hand off his chest. He thought again. He cleared his throat. He flexed his fingers. The rain continued.

Elias took his hand off Jon's arm and gestured forward towards the Institute's main entrance. Jon turned, and Elias gracefully moved to switch his umbrella to his left hand to cover them as they walked up the remaining steps. Jon remembered a time two years ago when Elias had extended the same favor. It had rained hundreds of times since then. Thousands. And Jon still didn't bring an umbrella to work. He wondered, angrily and dimly in the back alley of his mind reserved for self flagellation, if he had been hoping it might happen again. That he might be rescued again. He scowled at the thought.

Elias held the door open for him and turned to shake the rain off his umbrella before coming inside. He walked past and around Jon to face him, placing the tip of his umbrella against the marble floor with a sharp, resounding tap<.

"Jon, it's freezing out there. Is this really the warmest thing you own?"

"What? Oh," Jon looked down at his grey ziptop fleece and tan Mackintosh, "Uh... I uhm. I run hot.”

Elias reached out his free hand and ran it down the length of Jon's lapel, pressing the (admittedly thin) fabric between the pad of his thumb and the side of his index finger. He tutted.

"Surely, Jon, we pay you enough to upkeep your winter wardrobe. This is positively Dickensian."

Jon felt the blood rush to his cheeks, "It's-- yes. I mean-- sorry."

Elias' mouth, already poised in a sly, easy smile, twitched up at the corners. "I'm not scolding you, Jon. There's no need to apologize."

"S-" Jon began. He shut his eyes for a moment and pressed his mouth into a line. God, he sounded so much like Martin when he stammered. "Yes, alright."

Elias' hand, still resting on Jon's lapel, moved up, his gloved fingers brushing lightly over his chest as it made the journey. He ran his palm along the full length of Jon's shoulder, from the side of his neck to the seam in his fleece. "Hm," he said.

"Hm?" said Jon, feeling the blistering heat in the tips of his ears.

Elias looked up from his hand, something sparking in his deep grey eyes. His next gesture he made so quickly and so naturally that Jon couldn't process the novelty of it until he had left. He raised his hand to the side of Jon's face, cupped his jaw, and thumbed his nose. His eyes crinkled, and he turned to leave.

"I'll see you on Friday," he called back, without turning his head, "Good morning, Kelly!”

Jon stood still and said nothing, his mind having gone utterly blank.

"Come in, Jon."

Elias' voice was clear and resonant through the hallway, as if he was standing right in front of him. Jon poked his head in through the door frame and saw him seated at his desk. He had a steaming mug sitting by his left hand. Jon approached with his two paper coffee cups. Elias turned toward him and his eyes widened in surprise.

"I brought you a coffee," said Jon. Idiot. He said to himself. Obviously you brought him a coffee. Why the hell else would you be carrying two coffees?

"Yes, I can see that," said Elias.

I wish I were dead, thought Jon.

"That's very thoughtful of you, thank you, Jon," said Elias with a smile, and reached for his cup. Jon handed it to him, trying not to feel that it was being taken out of pity.

"Dark roast, no cream, three sugars," said Jon, pulling out his chair. "Hope I got that right," he added casually, and then glanced down. There was a garment box on his seat. An elegant ivory garment box tied with a silky cream colored ribbon.

"You did," said Elias around the lid of his paper cup. Jon looked up and saw him sipping from it, watching him from over the shining gold rims of his glasses. "Open it."

Jon looked back down at the beautifully packaged gift. It was the kind of wrapping you had someone behind a glass counter do for you. Someone who had a selection of ribbons and an imposing set of shears to cut them with. No one had ever given him anything wrapped like that. Tentatively, he pulled the ribbons loose and gently lifted the lid. It came away easily, which caught him by surprise. The all-white packaging had primed him for the slow descent of an Apple product box. But no, the lid of this garment box, made of sturdy, carefully folded cardstock, came away easily from its base to reveal a swath of grey fabric.

Elias had stood and rounded his desk in the time it took Jon to open the box. He was right behind him, standing so close that Jon could feel his breath against his neck when he reached past him to pull the coat from its packaging. He reached out his other arm to hold it up by both shoulders, framing Jon between his outstretched arms, holding him in place with his chest against his back.

It was a long peacoat, made of heavy grey wool with matte black buttons and broad lapels that could be pulled up to protect your neck from the wind. My neck, thought Jon. The inner lining was a glossy black, embroidered with gold thread in a minuscule repeating pattern that looked at first like snake scales. As he stared at it, Jon realized that it was a field of eyes, each nestled perfectly against its thousand identical siblings, sewn so delicately and so closely together that they blended into a sort of netting if you unfocused your vision.

"Do you like it?" said Elias. He was looking straight out at the coat in front of them, but as they stood his mouth was so close to Jon's ear that he didn't need to raise his voice above a whisper.

"Well, it's not coffee," said Jon.

Elias smiled, and Jon could hear the shape of his mouth in his sharp exhale. "No, there I'm afraid I've been upstaged."

He moved, dropping his arms from around Jon and stepping back, holding the coat out in front of him so Jon could step into it. He did, letting Elias place it over his shoulder and smooth it down his arms. He stepped back again to admire his work. Jon brought his hands to the lapels, feeling down their length before moving to explore the pockets. It was pleasantly heavy, well structured but soft, and incredibly warm. It also fit him like a glove. Like it had been tailored for him. Jon turned to look at Elias' exceptionally satisfied face and realized that when he had passed his hand over his chest in the front lobby on Wednesday he had perfectly eyeballed his measurements.

"Well?"

"It's certainly not Dickensian."

"That was indeed my intention."

Jon lowered his eyes and spoke to Elias' oxfords. They were black and white spats, today, smartly contrasting his pale grey slacks. His socks were mauve argyle. "It's... beautiful, Elias. Thank you." He risked a glance up and quickly averted his eyes again. "I really don't know what to say."

"Thank you was sufficient, Jon," Elias hummed, "I'm very happy you like it."

[classyfruit]

Hi ma'am, what environment works best for you to work in? Like time of day or specific place?

Hi and hello dear Anon, thanks for getting in touch with your question - I hope you're well! 🤗 Since your question might be interesting for everyone, I've taken some time to answer in depth. I hope it's useful for y'all!

🔽How I work best as a full-time artist🔽

Time/Schedule

I personally work best early in the day when my concentration and energy is at its highest.

Since I am prone to either ALWAYS work/draw or be exhausted from rushing myself, a good schedule is vital! Currently, I am in the process of figuring out a new, much more flexible schedule for myself, where certain days of the week are reserved for tasks with some flex days to switch things around if needed.

I like to start with admin tasks, which I find difficult, and work my way down until I can "just draw", which I find easiest.

Workplace/Set-Up

I work with a PC and drawing tablet set-up, so I am bound to my desk workplace-wise, but I would love to upgrade with a portable tablet so I can draw out in nature or in society.

I've surrounded my desk with things that inspire me: Plants, postcards, trinkets, you name it. This keeps my brain fresh and oftentimes gives me a boost to keep drawing.

My monitors are positioned high enough that I can see them well while sitting upright. Good posture is vital if you spend a lot of time working!

I now have my big Huion Kamvas tablet that has a display, so I need to remind myself to not be crouched over it all the time. I also pull up the artwork on my further-away monitor to check the overall composition and/or values, instead of drowning in details!

Health While Working

While drawing, music, documentaries or Let's Plays are vital to keep the overthinking at bay and to keep me in the flow!

WATER!! I can't stress enough how important it is to drink. Enough. Water. If I don't, that results in brain fog and art is no.

Sometimes I need to rest my eyes on something else than my WIP art - I usually keep my desktop wallpaper something calming and almost neutral (like a mist-covered lake or a mountain ridge) and just stare at it for a few moments.

I am mindful of my breaks, especially when drawing! I use a pomodoro timer to know when it's time for stretching my hands and for water breaks.

Snack breaks are also a good thing - I definitely recommend fruit (because of course!), nuts and dark chocolate. They help me stay energized without making me drowsy.

Process

I keep a very detailed To Do list to keep myself motivated and also to know where exactly in the art/project process I am. My brain can either be in admin mode or creative mode, not both.

If I feel blocked either artistically or energy wise, I try to do some personal sketches for at least ten minutes.

If I absolutely can't motivate myself to draw (due to energy levels or whatever reason), I honor that and see if I want to do something else, like learning Blender, learning more about the business side of the artist life - or maybe just take a breather and let myself be a human bean.

Some days, I like the challenge of sketching a new idea, some days I prefer the cozy and less creative task of doing outlines and shading of existing sketches. I now try to let myself do what I gravitate towards more and it pays off with me not feeling overwhelmed as easily. It's about just doing what you can most of the time.

When I'm done with a piece of artwork, I try my darndest to be very supportive and proud of myself. I take a longer break and return to look at the finished artwork, trying to name my favorite thing about it as well as something I can see needs more work.

Something I don't do YET but will do: Keeping a document with all the positive comments I receive. I think validation and acknowledgement are things that humans almost always enjoy and keeping a record of praise around is sure to motivate me at least a little.

And that's that! If any of you read to this point: Thank you very much, I hope you found my list useful! If you have any tips or tricks regarding drawing, staying motivated and in general doing a hecking survive as an arting individual, why not drop it in the comments for all to benefit from? Stay healthy and stay happy! Much love! 😊

[jeremy-queere]

Been asking around random bmc blogs to see what their favorite bmc song is. So you’re next! A full rant and everything would be nice >:)

I'm answering this 3 weeks late. sorry. don't @ me

Shoot, okay, that's a toughie. I think I'm going to go by "odds of me skipping when it comes up on shuffle" rules. So unfortunately, that immediately knocks out many of them - The Play (obviously...), Do You Wanna Hang; both Christine songs (SORRY CHRISTINE I HAVE NO EXCUSE) (i just like singing dude songs ;-;); the instrumentals. Do You Wanna Ride may well be called Do You Wanna Singreallyhigh :/

More Than Survive is the best for when I want to sing along loudly and flex my "acting" but it's also a million years long and starts out with porn, making it harder to play in mixed company.

Two Player Game - OK, so this one is good but. But. If we're including the big band version in our ranking, it might manage to eke its way out on top.

I'm calling this an unfair advantage since the other songs, if similarly arranged, might also slap this hard. Might.

Michael in the Bathroom and the Pants Song are on the same tier for me (SORRY AGAIN!!!) in that they are both very easy to get stuck in your head, you gotta get weirdly heartfelt singing them, and you really gotta be in the mood for them specifically. MitB is iconic for a reason but I'll skip it more often than not if I want to keep my energy up (which is usually the only reason I listen to music whoops). Loser Geek Whatever is also in here if it's the Broadway version. I know in my heart that the Christine songs also belong here.

Halloween, Smartphone Hour, Pitiful Children, and hell, Be More Chill Pt. 1 - These are all bops that are really plot important but that also means you gotta be willing to engage with the story if you want to jam out about it. I dunno if that makes sense? But like you can't sing along to Halloween without paying attention to what's going on with Jake's house during the song. (Sync Up may also fit in here but like. it doesn't go quite as hard as these 4)

Upgrade also fits in with the above category because um. Sorry to all again but. I used to love the first half and then just skip it as soon as the SQUIP verse was done. Again, for singing-along hype building.

So I think that narrows us down to Voices in My Head and the SQUIP Song.

Voices in My Head is an all-mood all-ages fun ditty. It's got heart, dammit. Does anyone not like this one?

But the SQUIP song......... That's the moneymaker, I think. I used to not be able to get my voice low enough, but either I've gotten better at it or I've stopped caring. This one is just fucking FUN. BUT. But but but but. But it has to be the original cast recording.

The Broadway version, someone send me an ask and I'll give my opinions on it. tl;dr they cut out a section of the song for NO reason.

HOWEVER, ON THE FIRST HAND. I have incorporated the Broadway version's little fake audio glitches into it whenever I sing the SQUIP Song. That's good shit.

If you were asking me what my fav is to listen to and not to sing along to, I couldn't tell you. If BMC is playing and I'm not singing along, there is something wrong with me. I don't say that jokingly. That's literally how I realize I'm in a bad mood/really tired is if I'm not singing in the car lol.

[govindhtech]

IBM Maximo AWS Deployment Strategies

The Business Value of IBM Maximo, a recent IDC report that surveyed 9 companies with an average of 8,500 employees, found that adopting IBM Maximo resulted in a business benefit of USD 14.6 million per year per organization, 43% less unplanned downtime, and USD 8.6 million in total equipment cost avoidances.

One comprehensive, cloud-based application platform for asset monitoring, management, predictive maintenance, and reliability planning is IBM Maximo Application Suite (MAS). Maximo optimizes performance, extends asset lifecycles, and reduces downtime and costs for high-value assets using AI and analytics. Hosting Maximo on a scalable infrastructure maximizes performance, hence the current tendency is to shift it to the cloud. In this trip, MAS migration and deployment on AWS Cloud are gaining popularity.

The growing demand for Maximo AWS Cloud migration

Migrating to cloud helps enterprises improve operational resilience and dependability while updating software with minimal effort and infrastructure constraints. Due to the growing demand for data-driven asset management, firms must aggregate data from diverse departments to identify trends, generate predictions, and make better asset management decisions.

Last April, IBM said Maximo 7.6 and add-on support would stop in September 2025. All Maximo EAM customers must upgrade to the latest cloud-based MAS. Maximo migration and modernization are become increasingly significant to clients.

IBM has released new containerized versions of Maximo Application Suite as a Service (MAS SaaS) on AWS Marketplace with Bring Your Own License (BYOL) to assist Maximo migration to AWS. MAS SaaS on AWS is another milestone in Maximo’s integration of Monitor, Health, and Visual Inspection into a unified suite.

What makes MAS SaaS distinct

IBM Site Reliability Engineering (SRE) specialists use best practices to continuously maintain and administer MAS SaaS, a subscription-based AWS service. This partnership gives customers an industry-leading IBM asset management system underpinned by AWS’s size, agility, and cost-efficiency.

Upgrades and migrations to MAS 8 are possible with MAS SaaS. The data update is similar to prior upgrades, but ROSA and other dependencies require architecture changes. The migration is comparable to how clients transitioned from on-premise to Maximo EAM SaaS Flex, but with MAS changes. Perpetual on-premises customers would stop paying Service & Support (S&S) and purchase a SaaS subscription, on-premises Subscription License customers would start a new subscription, and existing MAS Flex and MAS Managed Service customers would start a new subscription to migrate to MAS SaaS.

Our IBM Consulting Cloud Accelerator (ICCA) technology lets firms plan migration and upgrade strategies before investing.

Maximo migration strategy of a global energy firm

IBM worked closely with an energy company confronting the following challenges:

Infrastructure needed for latest Maximo version takes longer.

WebSphere, Maximo’s core, experienced high-availability and performance difficulties.

Lack of data fabric and integration layer hinders cross-application data interchange.

Complex setup, failures, and security with manual end-to-end deployment.

Since Maximo Application Suite 8 (MAS8) tackles industry issues like failure risk, escalating maintenance costs, sustainability, and compliance laws, the customer chose it. The client chose AWS Cloud for its deployment flexibility, scalability, high availability, and secure architecture. 

Approach to solution

This is how IBM accelerated the energy company’s Maximo move to AWS:

Used Infra as a code to upgrade Maximo from 7.6.0.9 to 7.6.1.2.

IaC allowed instance spin-up for auto scaling. This automation reduces the time to spin up and execute the new environment and addresses multi-AWS availability zone deployment latency.

Used AWS DMS for data migration and schema conversion.

IaC spun the DR environment on demand to reduce database replication (DR) infrastructure and expense. DR capabilities update data in availability zone and DR area.

Achieved data exchange across applications using IBM Cloud Pak for Data and standardized integration using IBM Cloud Pak for Integration components.

Solution components

Maximum Enterprise Application Management (EAM) has a 3-tier design with these components:

HTTP/Web Tier and Application Tier using IBM WebSphere and HIS installed EC2 instance under private subnet for application security.

Database Tier uses AWS Oracle RDS with replication for DR under private subnet.

AWS best practices were used to configure VPC with public and private subnets.

Application servers and deployment manager were autoscaled by Auto Scaling Group. 

Maximum web-based UI resolution for external access using AWS Route 53.

WAF was the initial line of defense against web exploits.

Integration of Terraform and CFT IaC scripts provided autoscaling architecture.

AWS Reference Architecture

Max on RedHat OpenShift Service on AWS (ROSA) helps clients

Containerized MAS 8.0 runs on RedHat OpenShift. AWS, IBM, and RedHat developed an IBM MAS on ROSA reference architecture to help customers inexperienced with production containerization. ROSA, a fully managed, turnkey application platform, supports IBM MAS configuration and offloads cluster lifecycle management to RedHat and AWS, allowing organizations to focus on application deployment and innovation. This means IBM MAS clients don’t need to develop, administer, or maintain RedHat OpenShift clusters.

Operating Model and Maximo Migration

Top 3 Maximo AWS migration accelerators

Clients can migrate to the cloud using three IBM MAS deployment methods on AWS Cloud:

ROSA-powered MAS SaaS on AWS

ROSA-powered AWS MAS

Customer-hosted ROSA

Why use customer-hosted ROSA

The customer-hosted ROSA option for hosting IBM MAS in a customer’s VPC with ROSA is powerful. ROSA is perfect for MAS deployments because it seamlessly deploys, scales, and manages containerized applications.

The benefits of this choice are enormous. Full control over the infrastructure while still subject to the organization’s monitoring, controls, and governance standards allows businesses to customize and adjust the environment to their needs. This control includes adding MAS integrations and enforcing cloud security and governance requirements. ROSA charges are combined into one AWS bill and drawn from any AWS enterprise agreement, simplifying financial management.

AWS enterprise agreements and Compute Savings Plans offer infrastructure savings for MAS implementations. Because the ROSA cluster operates under the customer’s AWS account, customers can buy upfront ROSA contracts and get a one-year or three-year ROSA service charge discount.

Why IBM for Maximo AWS migration?

Any modernization effort must include cloud migration. Cloud migration is not a one-size-fits-all method, and each organization faces unique cloud adoption difficulties.

IBM Consulting’s Application Modernization offering helps clients migrate and modernize AWS applications faster, cheaper, and more efficiently, reducing technical debt and accelerating digital initiatives while minimizing business risk and improving business agility.

IBM offers unique cloud migration services to accelerate customer application migration to AWS:

Cloud migration factory capabilities including proven frameworks and processes, automation, migrating templates, security policies, and AWS-specific migration squads speed up delivery.

IBM Garage Methodology, IBM’s cloud services delivery capabilities, ROSA, and AWS Migration tools and accelerators accelerate migration and cloud adoption.

ICCA, IBM’s proprietary framework for migration and modernization, reduces risk. ICCA for AWS Cloud automates various modernization procedures, simplifying and speeding up company agility. Before investing, businesses can plan migration and modernization strategies. Discover IBM Consulting Cloud Accelerator for AWS Cloud.

Our well-defined pattern-based migration methodology includes re-factor, re-platform, and containerization using AWS managed services and industry-leading tools to remove and optimize technical debt.

Finally, IBM offers customizable t-shirt-sized price models for small, medium, and large migration sizes, ensuring clients’ migration scope is obvious.

IBM helps clients migrate applications, like Maximo to AWS Cloud

In conclusion, clients seek IBM’s expertise to:

1.Upgrade Maximo 7.6x (expiring 2025) to MAS 8. 

2.On-premise workload to AWS Cloud for elastic, scalable, and highly available infrastructure and runtime

IBM Consulting can help

AWS Premier Partner IBM Consulting accelerates hybrid cloud journeys on the AWS Cloud by leveraging business and IT transformation skills, processes, and tools from many industries. On AWS Cloud, IBM’s security, enterprise scalability, and open innovation with Red Hat OpenShift enable enterprises grow swiftly.

BM Consulting develops cloud-native apps in AWS Cloud with 21,000+ AWS-certified cloud practitioners, 17 validated SDD programs, and 16 AWS competencies. IBM Consulting is the best AWS partner due to acquisitions like Nordcloud and Taos, advancements at IBM Research, and co-development with AWS.

Read more on Govindhtech.com

[subakuryu]

A Hospital Visit

Nido: "So Chloe let spill about how you kept havin to replace the mode board every 2-3 months. Your old arm had a cheapo heatsink and spaghetti wire configuration that begged to fry especially when you use blaster mode. With This model the quality of the connections and the thermal regulation is better but still not adequate. I got some upgrades bookmarked that I can install later once I snag a fair pri-“ Mussa: "Nido." Nido: "Huh?" Mussa: "…How much?" Nido: "…Let’s say… the price of your old arm, flex pay. And I am your primary technician when it comes to repairing your arm. …Friend’s discount.” *gestures $0 with his right hand* “Aaaand maybe some client referrals wouldn’t hurt.” ------ Heyo! Here’s the depiction of Nido helping @PictorisAurora’s Mussa procure a new arm a few days following the events of a short story written by @hunterbahamut which you can read here: https://www.tumblr.com/hunterbahamut/699581711604908032/virus-second-infection?source=share A bit slapdash in composition and coloring/rendering, but hey! The idea’s out of my head now. Till next time!

[ausimosa]

The general public likes the same things I shy away from…

Examples:

Lines

Crowds

Cruises (on sale with some sort of membership discount)

Planning vacations with their kids and every extended family member they can tag along to “help” them out. There is always oneplanning member whooften offers to pay for it all.. the others just have to help out with food and tips.

I sit here and wait for the after trip debriefing and the amount of disappointment and complaints do notmatch the perfect insta pics. It’s quite entertaining. The flex is unreal. None of it appeals to me. The “we are not talking to each other right now” after the trip is something I do not subscribe to… it amazes me when I see it happen over and over. Toxicity at its best!

I rather pay extra to fly business with my tribe only and get hotel upgrades.

I also don’t like AirBnB’s. I leave those places cleaner than when we first get there.

My interpretation of family first is my tribe (husband and kids) but I have learned that the general public would rather endure nasty exchanges w extended families and in-laws for the sake of the sacred “family.”