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miyukisu · 10 months ago

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NSFW Alphabet | Sae Itoshi .ᐟ

❤︎ | Get to know Sae Itoshi from A to Z~ ╰ feat. sae itoshi x afab! reader

minors do not interact

[A] Aftercare Decent. Bare minimum. Not over the top. At the very least he would wipe you down and clean you up without expecting you to move an inch. He'll even guide you to the bathroom if you plan to shower together (there are times when he carries you, but that's reserved for days when he REALLY goes all out on you). You have to specifically request for things if you want him to do it. Otherwise, that's all you're getting.

[B] Body Part Sae's canonically into ass. But it's important to note that he cares more about shape rather than size. He'll subtly ogle at your ass even in broad daylight, especially if you're wearing tight clothes that showcase it. On himself, however, he's aware of how nice his thighs look. Sometimes he'll pass by a full-length body mirror in just his boxers and he'll stand there for a minute to admire his legs. Partially, this is why he enjoys working out his legs.

[C] Cum Cums a lot, but not thick. It's more on the translucent side. He maintains a healthy diet so you can expect the taste to be bearable. Of course, he likes to release on your ass, but sometimes it gets on to your back as well. It's a sight he never gets tired of.

[D] Dirty Secret Even with his partner, he would hate to admit that he likes taking nude pictures of himself. It's not like he's going to send them out or that he gets off to it; he's no narcissist. But there's just something inexplicable about doing it. He'll snap a few, look at them, then delete them. He isn't sure why. But if you're into receiving nudes, he'll gladly comply (that is, if you've been together long enough).

[E] Experience Despite his good looks, it's surprising to know that he hasn't done it with a lot of people. He only does it with someone he's in a relationship with and even that rarely happens. He's a busy person and it takes longer for him to develop trust for anyone compared to the normal person. But you could say that he's a natural. He can make you cum at least a couple of times through instinct alone.

[F] Favorite Position He has a hard time picking between plain ol' doggy and reverse cowgirl. See any similarities? Yeah, both positions just give him a nice view of your behind. It allows him to grope, squeeze, and slap it any time he wants. He particularly likes watching it jiggle at every hard thrust that he does. Although, he might prefer doggy a little more as he can have most of the control in that position. But it's trivial to pick. He'll just have you in both positions each time you decide to do it anyway.

[G] Goofy The man doesn't smile, let alone laugh, during sex. It's not that he's not enjoying it, but he doesn't find the act to be humorous at all. He finds it weird to call it "fun". He'd rather describe it as passionate and intense which is why he's serious. However, there are VERY rare moments when he cracks a small smile, but it only happens in highly emotional moments (like your first time having sex as a married couple, for example).

[H] Hair He trims it, but not for sexual purposes. He's an extremely hygienic man, so he does it out of self-care. In reality, he doesn't care too much about what their partner thinks of his hair. If they like it; then great. If they don't; they can deal with it. Besides, he doesn't care about his partner's hair. He'll take whatever's waiting for him down there. He'll never go fully bald because he finds it odd. He'll trim it a bit regularly and that's about it.

[I] Intimacy A very passionate lover; that's for sure. As I've mentioned, he finds the act to be something serious. He'll only do it with you out of love and care. So even if he doesn't outwardly seem like a romantic person in bed, he definitely is. He likes to keep it fair in the bedroom. So if he's enjoying, you should be enjoying it just as much as he is. Although, he doesn't speak much, but he'll call you "Amor" sometimes. Sae will whisper that name in your ear gently.

[J] Jack Off As you might expect, he doesn't do it a lot. For one, he's too busy doing or thinking about something else. It's something that he can only think about doing when he's lying in bed at night with a blank mind. Sae mostly does it out of frustration—if he wants to release pent up emotions without lashing out on someone else. He's quick and likes to get the job done as fast as he can. Can you blame him? It relaxes him after all. Though, he isn't immune to temptation either. If you send him jack off material, he'll gladly use it.

[K] Kink Sae discovered it a bit late, but he likes brat taming. He doesn't even know that it's a thing. He just knows that he likes putting disobedient girls in their places. He'll act annoyed or pissed off at your insolence, but deep down, he's craving that you do it more. Something about feeling that his authority is being challenged, excites him. Of course, it adds some spice to your bedroom activities. But maybe it has to do with him proving to you over and over again that he's the one in control—he's the one holding the reigns. He especially loves it when you eventually become obedient in the end. But keep being a tease; he eats it up.

[L] Location Anywhere as long as it's inside the house/apartment/hotel. He likes the privacy and comfort that those places offer. He can't be bothered to think about the possibility of getting caught. As thrilling as it might be, he has a reputation to uphold. The impending PR work is not worth the orgasm, at least for him. He also would hate to do it in a place that would force you into a weird position. At least at home there's a bed, a couch, a chair, or a counter for you to use. Again, he's a hygienic guy, so the dirty outdoors is a huge no for him.

[M] Motivation First of all, he has to be either extremely relaxed or incredibly frustrated—there is no in between. But once either condition is met, it's not that hard to get him in the mood. In fact, he likes to hear how eager you are. Simply asking him if he wants to do it would be more than enough. Even better if you express how much you've been needing him throughout the day or week. There are times when he initiates things, but that usually happens when you're already touching each other (like while cuddling). You'll know because he'll grind his hard on against you or deliberately take your hand and place it there.

[N] No Anything extreme is off the table for him. In many ways, he's quite vanilla. The farthest he'll go would be a little bit of bondage and usage of toys. But if there's extreme pain, blood, piss, and things beyond that involved—consider him out.

[O] Oral Again, he likes to keep things pretty equal, so likes both giving and receiving. Although, you might notice that he'll go at your pussy first before letting you suck him off. It gets him into the momentum apparently. Plus, most of the time, he already gets you to cum from his tongue alone. You swear that he gets better each time he does it. You can never last long since he likes to suck on the clit, oop. When you suck him off, he'll tangle his fingers in your hair and guide you lightly. He lets you do your thing, pretty much. The only exception is when he's really stressed out—expect him to tug at your hair a little harder then.

[P] Pace He usually likes it slow and sensual. Sex is the only time he feels relaxed and in control of his time. Why would he want to rush it? The atmosphere also feels different for him when he goes slow. Furthermore, Sae uses this as a way to observe you properly—which spots to hit, which points to stimulate at the same time, and so on. It gets him off knowing that he can get better and better at providing pleasure. Consider it as part of his ego as well. He might take it slow, but there are definitely moments when he pounds you hard and steady. The type of pounding that needs you to hold on for dear life or else you'll fall.

[Q] Quickie Not really a fan of it. But it's not like he would never do it. Sae will only resort to quickies when absolutely necessary. Those kinds of situations are mostly when both of your schedules are packed and there is literally not enough time to have proper sex. That or when both of you feel incredibly frustrated and nothing else will satiate you but each other. Another reason why he doesn't do this as much is that it leaves him wanting more. He hates feeling like a needy idiot, so he avoids quickies as much as he can.

[R] Risk He'll try anything not-so-extreme at least once, especially if you ask him nicely. Though he has shown interest in experimenting in bondage a bit, more specifically, in shibari. It's a bit intricate and it might hurt you a bit if not done right, but if you're willing to share that risk with him—he's game. From the Sae perspective, I'd say a risky thing that he does is whispering things in your ear he wouldn't normally say. He just likes to keep you on your toes and the way you clench down on him is just way too good. Besides, you'll most likely forget he said it anyway because he fucks you dumb most of the time.

[S] Stamina His endurance and stamina in general are certainly well-trained, but he is just a man. His dick needs to recuperate at its own pace. Maybe he can last two rounds for the most part, but there are days when he can only last for one. But it's not much of an issue. In that one round, he can last for so long. He can take advantage of that time and make you cum over and over again. Besides, even if you've milked him for the time being, he can still go at it with his mouth and fingers. You'll never catch him breathless after a few measly minutes.

[T] Toys He doesn't own any. He feels silly spending money on such things and using it on himself. But if it's for you; he'll gladly spend as much as he needs. He just doesn't see the appeal of using it on himself. Pocket pussies? Cock rings? Seems a bit ridiculous to him. But if you happen to own a vibe or two, he'll definitely use it. There's no harm in heightening your pleasure anyway. He's also chill with a bit of bondage rope and handcuffs. He's a bit iffy about using dildos though. Maybe it's because of his pride, but what's the use of it when you can have his dick instead?

[U] Unfair He's a tease without even trying. The snarky remarks that he makes comes out of his mouth naturally. "Oh, you're cumming again? You're too easy," and he'll say it with a straight face. Sometimes when you do ask him to fuck you faster, he'll ignore you on purpose. The man wants to hear you beg so nicely for him after being such a brat earlier. Although, he's surprisingly less of a tease as you'd expect.

[V] Volume Mostly grunts and groans. He claims that you will never hear him whimper, so of course, you make it your life's purpose to get him to whimper. It has yet to happen. And he does find it amusing that you think that you can make THE Sae Itoshi whimper like a bitch. Aside from that, the sounds he makes aren't so loud. He makes sure the grunts near your ear, containing it there. BUT, a little quirk of his is that he lets out a long sigh once he cums. It just feels so relieving that he can't help it anymore.

[W] Wild Card He thinks he'd bust right away sometimes whenever you stare up at him while you suck him off. Seeing you servicing him so eagerly while on your knees does things to his brain. It makes his ego swell like insane. "You're such a good girl, amor. You love me alot, don't you?" He'll wipe away the tears that threaten to fall because your jaw's so stretched out. Sae knows you're struggling a bit, but hang on for now and he'll reward you plenty afterwards.

[X] X-ray Not that girthy, but loooooong. He has quite a pretty dick, especially since he keeps it neat down there as well. It doesn't curve that much, but it is quite veiny. You can see the veins because of his pale complexion. There's one particularly thick vein that feels the best when rubbing against your walls. He's also cut, so you know that he has a light pink tip. Definitely a shower.

[Y] Yearning He's definitely more inclined to have sex than jacking off. That's because he'll actually make time for it. Sae will find ways to clear up his schedule or at least have more time with you—to have sex and to do things other than sex, of course. It's an odd, but helpful, trait of his that he can easily match the libido of his partner. Unless if his partner has an insanely high libido, then you'd probably have to find even ground. But again, it's not hard to get him into the mood. So if you initiate or ask him, more often than not—he'll get down and dirty with you in a heartbeat.

[Z] Zzz He doesn't fall asleep right away because, A) he needs to clean up and take care of you, and B) he just isn't tired enough. Don't get him wrong—good pussy pushes him to the edge, but being well-trained just helps him to not pass out immediately after busting. However, he will fall asleep right away once you're all cleaned up and the bed (which presumably got drenched) is all tidied up. Once you're sleeping soundly in his arms, he'll let himself be consumed by slumber as well.

❤︎ Overall: Sae's quite a good lover in that he puts effort and meaning into sex and that he's constantly improving. He genuinely cares about making it an activity both of you enjoy. 10/10 experience.

©kzyluvr do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note Actually a bit terrified that I might have butchered Sae Itoshi in this one

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock smut #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #sae smut #sae itoshi smut #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk headcanons #bllk smut #♪ ── luvr.fm // works #♪ ── luvr.fm // ABCs

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falmerbrook · 1 year ago

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Falmer appearance and attire headcanons

(click on drawings for more details and notes!)

Hair

In Skyrim, we pretty much only see two hair styles to go off of: completely bald and the hair the "shaman" have (which are also the only females we see (a post for another day)).

In concept art, particularly Adam Adamowicz's, we see more potential hairstyles. He draws it as wispy and messy, as well as containing braids and the ties we see in the shaman in the game. This art is largely what defines my own interpretation of their hair.

I picture the typical Falmer hair as wavy, thin, wispy, and looking frizzy. Given the high number of hairless Falmer we see, I imagine baldness is common, particularly among males, and sometimes among females. Their hair can be commonly styled into braids or knots to keep it under control.

The ability to grow long, thick hair is less common, but those who can tend to style it in other unique ways. Especially among females, long hair is commonly styled into large dense locs (akin to a Polish plait) and held into shapes using ropes or leather ties.

(While I think the intention with the way their hair is drawn and modelled in the game models and concept art was that it was braided and held up with those ties, before looking at it closely I always sorta interpreted it as too stiff to just be braided. As a result, I developed the locs headcanon and have become kinda attached to it even though I have 0 in game or lore support for it)

Materials

The material used in their clothing is obviously dependent on what is accessible to them, and given their unique situation that makes the materials they use and value unique as well. In Skyrim, we see that almost all of their armor (which is mostly what we see them wearing) and homes are made of chaurus chitin (and potentially shellbug chitin), so this is likely the most common resource available to them for non-combative coverings as well. Other materials from their arthropods companions could include their cocoons, unhatched eggs, etc.

Bones from other creatures (draugr, skeevers, trolls, adventurers, bandits, etc.) underground or from aboveground raids could also be used fairly often. These could also provide a source of leather or fur, albeit not a lot of it.

Falmer groups and subcultures inside or in close proximity to Dwemer ruins probably make regular use of the materials present in those ruins as well. With all the metal and machinery present in Dwemer ruins, metal probably makes regular appearances in their clothing (and general decorations) even if they can't manipulate it themselves. Falmer more separated from Dwemer ruins would make much lesser use of these materials, however. Additionally, We see implications of Falmer preparing, cooking, and potentially cultivating fungus in-game, but see nothing indicating they have any plants in their diet, and therefore it is unlikely they regularly make or use textiles or fabrics in their clothing, and if they do they likely come form Dwemer ruins or raided adventurers/bandits/settlements from the surface.

On that note, we know that there have supposedly been incidents of Falmer coming to the surface to attack its inhabitants and travelers, as well as instances of them killing bandits, adventurers, and researchers who venture below, so it's not far fetched to believe that they have access to some materials from the surface. This could give them some access to furs from surface animals, beads, glass, jewelry, textiles, metal objects, etc. they might not otherwise have access to. The rarity of these material among the Falmer would depend on the amount of access any given group of Falmer have to the surface, but among many of them these materials could be seen as more valuable for their rarity and the difficulty to gain them.

While gemstones and ore might be accessible from both natural deposits and underground ruins, unless they had some kind of auditory function or unique texture, they might not have much value to Falmer.

General Attire/Accessories

I like to imagine that the Snow Elves, and by extension the Falmer, have an innate cold resistance in the same way Nords do, and therefore don't require clothes for the purpose of warmth even in the chilly caves of Skyrim. Additionally, their blindness likely means that wouldn't dress for visual aesthetic either. My thoughts are that they are then left with the sense of sound and touch to communicate with each other, and their clothing and accessories could reflect that.

Falmer clothing, decoration, and society in general is very heavily based on touch and texture and little on appearances. They touch each other very often for both communication, movement, and just general day-to-day interactions, and their clothes isn’t very modest, but the tactile patterns and materials used can communicate certain things such as position in society, “wealth”/power, whether they are taken, single, pregnant, with a child, etc., their roles, their age, notable achievements/skills, who is who, etc. on both their clothes and buildings. The more noise one makes, the more attention they draw and the more they drown out other noises, and the more noise making things they can “afford” to have, so the amount of noise one makes in a Falmer settlement is a status symbol. Certain types of noises or noise makers are more coveted than others (chitin beads are common, while furs are less common, and materials only gained from raiding the surface are rare and coveted).

Some noise making accessories could include:

Dangling metal, bones, beads, chitin, etc. that hangs off of their clothing or ears and jingle/clank against each other (in my drawing I show them as pretty uniform in shape and size, but they would probably be much more irregular than I depicted them)

Bells (metal or other materials) that are affixed to or dangle off of their clothing or as earrings.

Hollow bracelets, anklets, necklaces, or other accessories that are filled with rocks or beads.

Rattles tied to the body (made of chitin, dried hollow chaurus eggs, dried chaurus cocoons, beads, etc.) with leather or rope.

Flute or whistle like tubes made of metal, chitin, or dried and treated tube-like fungus that makes a woodwind-esque noise when air passes through it in a certain way. They have been designed to make noise easily from even the slightest movements.

Dried grasses (more temporary) tied to the body that make a swishy noise. More permanently, a similar thing can be achieved with hair. The hair can be sourced from Falmer (either through just cutting hair or through taking it from fallen enemies) or killed humans/mer/draugr. That sort of thing can also act as a kind of trophy.

Necklaces with various materials dangling close together that jingle against each other.

Various materials can be tied into braids or the leather ties in their hair as well.

Some textural accessories could include:

Beads. Since they wouldn't have the ability to tell the color of the beads, the patterning of beadwork would be based on the roughness, material, size, or shape of the beads. (I'm sorry I suck as drawing beads)

Furs. This wouldn't be as common since the Falmer likely don't have too much interaction with furry mammals, but some they may have access to that are big enough to make clothing/accessories out of include skeevers or trolls (and potentially rarely animals from the surface). A potential meaning of wearing furs could be as hunting trophies, but it could have other meanings as well.

Chaurus chitin would like be the most common material in Falmer attire, and depending on the part of the chaurus body, the size of the chaurus, or the life stage of the chaurus it was sourced from it could have different textures. Some chitin parts could include large spikes and deep groves, while other parts could be smoother and less rough. The use of this chitin in clothing could take advantage of this contrast in textures. Additionally, chitin or shells from shell bugs might be a different texture from the chaurus chitin. (it's unclear to me whether shell bugs are exclusive to the caves around the Forgotten Vale or if we should consider them distributed throughout Skyrim's underground)

The placement of textured components on the body could have their own meaning to it alongside what accessories or textures are being used.

Specific Falmer Subcultures

While most Falmer settlements we see in Skyrim are just a small-ish collection of huts and chaurus corrals, there are two distinctive settlements that are larger, seemingly more organized, and I like to think have their own distinct subcultures worth mentioning: Blackreach and the Forgotten Vale. The unique scope and environment of these Falmer cities (as I like to think of them) could lend to unique clothing cultures as well.

The Falmer of Blackreach have access to a vast Dwemer settlement and have has the space to spread out throughout it more fully since it seems to be more in tact than other Dwemer ruins we see. These guys would likely have a clothing culture much more heavily based on what the can access from these Dwemer ruins (metal scraps, leftover fabrics, etc.)

The Falmer of the Forgotten Vale would also have access to unique resources, such as Vale deer, Vale sabre cats, and frost giants for fur and leather. Additionally, materials accessed from the Chantry of Auri-El such as textiles from clothing, bedding, tapestries, etc. could give them a greater access to fabrics than other Falmer groups. We don't see many close Dwemer settlements to the Vale, so they would have less Dwemeri influence in their clothing than other Falmer groups.

I like to think that the Falmer's evolution exclusively underground has made them poorly equipped to handle the outdoors during the day and has made them particularly susceptible to sunburn, necessitating the need for covering for those in the Forgotten Vale who have significant settlements outdoors. With greater access to textiles and leather, they could use them as coverings when outdoors.

Armor

I actually have very few notes on armor, for two reasons. 1) I hate designing and drawing armor. It is the bane of my existence. 2) I really like the armor they have in game! I think they look awesome aesthetically, and I like how clearly they are made from chaurus chitin. Per usual, Adam Adamowicz's designs seem to have been the major inspiration for the Falmer armor, and he did a great jobs (even if it isn't the most functional looking armor ever).

(off topic but I also just want to add that he draws them with little hairs and tufts on their ears and I love it. ok that is all)

I do have a few thoughts about armor though.

Even attire made of textiles make noise when someone moves in them, and I can imagine moving around in armor, especially armor made of hard, insect shells would make a lot of noise when someone moves around in it. When you're relying on sound to navigate your environment and pinpoint potential threats or targets, wearing something making a lot of noise would not be ideal. On the other hand, getting into a fight unarmored would be a problem.

So here's my solution: heavy armor (see below) would only be worm within the camps/settlements where noise was already high and space is more cramped (and therefore more risky in a fight) as a sort of guard in case they were attacked. Those guarding the settlements along the outside might still wear armor as well, but less of it. Those going out to scout or hunt (if they do hunt) would wear as little armor as possible, and try to wear it strategically so that it wouldn't rub against itself and make noise. This is why most Falmer we encounter in the game are wearing little except for loin cloths and kneepads.

One more idea I have for armor is a specific armor piece. On the note of guarding or protecting a camp or settlement, I imagine the noises of it all (especially with the noise based headcanons I've laid out here) would make it hard to actually catch any potential threats when you can't see. A large slightly concave piece of armor worn behind the head could block out noises from behind the wearer, as well as a help focus sounds ahead of them.

That is all! Thank you for reading! A lot of these concepts around the culture of sound I think could also be applied to their buildings and even a culture of music, but those are posts for another time.

All of the concept art I used was taken from here and all of the Skyrim screenshots are from UESP.

#skyrim #tes #the elder scrolls #falmer #skyrim headcanon #tes headcanons #headcanon #sorry this is long (but not really)#i just cant express my thoughts like a normal person. college conditioned me to format everything like an essay where i have to provide #sources and shit lol #also im kinda autistic about falmer #i appreciate those of you who read it all!#mine #adam's concept art makes me feel very validated in my echolocation headcanon because its very obvious he references bats in their face #which is another post idea i have for another day #my art

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bogleech · 1 year ago

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STRANGE QUESTION but I know that you like leeches so I'll ask; If you were to design a human passing vampire using leech traits instead of bat/canine what kinds of things would you recommend looking into to get that point across? I like the idea of a parasitic themed vampire over a predatory one but never know how to go about tweaking designs to fall in line with that.

Leeches are soft, slimy, stretchy and segmented, and bloodsucking species feed either through three tiny jaws or a barbed proboscis, surrounded by "lips" that can flare out several times their normal width to form the sucker. So the leechiest traits you could give a vampire that still needs to pass as human might be fat folds, wrinkles, loose skin and moistness, which could all be fairly subtle if it still needs to be a fairly cool vampire. Otherwise, the furthest you could push it without being an obvious monster at first glance would be like a little pudgy bald old man who always seems a little too sweaty or greasy, but it's actually thin mucus, and he stretches open his toothless jowly mouth to latch onto you while his tongue drills just one tiny little hole in your skin.

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theomnicode · 9 months ago

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How does Genos show he cares? How to write a relatable cyborg character

Warning: Very long post incoming, tl;dr at the bottom

This meta doubles as Genos appreciation post. :D

Ever since his introduction, Genos has shown multiple times his very humane side of caring about Saitama and caring about defeating evil for the betterment of mankind. (Chapter 5: Itch explosion)

The first line he utters to Saitama is to tell him to hide because he does not want this casualty and when he forgets Saitama was there with him, he worries about him having become a casualty to his incinerator. (Chapter 6: Saitama)

Genos has to resort to almost blowing himself and mosquito girl up because he sees no other way to rid the world of such a powerful monster, but fortunately Saitama intervenes. They exchange names and go their merry way but later on, Genos knock on his door as he promised he would. Saitama is very uncertain about this new cyborg buddy of his, but he lets him in regardless and they have a chat.

Here Genos shows that he also worries about Saitama's health, after having barely met him, when he considers how odd it is that Saitama has balded completely at his age already, which is very abnormal medically considering. (Chapter 7: Mysterious raid)

Genos seems to have bunch of medical knowledge inside his head, as later on in the series he improvises a defiblirator and would have used it on Tank-top master if Bang hadn't gotten his heart started first. (Chapter 144: Silver fang)

He also remarks about Kombu's not so proven scientitic research about it growing hair when Saitama has defeated the Kombu monster and taken the leaf parts for him to eat, making the assumption that Saitama must've gotten the Kombu for growing out his hair. Genos cares a lot about Saitama's health already and they're barely acquainted at best at this point. (Chapter 20: Rumour)

The first duo battle they have shows Genos showing a lot of concern towards Saitama's well being, even when he really does not have to, but he's not yet acquainted well with the level of power Saitama actually possesses so he would not need to worry so much. (Chapter 7: Mysterious raid)

He also looks very disdraught about the fact that he cannot just rush to Saitama's aid because he's too busy himself with Armored gorilla, when the other monster decides to take advantage of Saitama's immobile state. (Chapter 8: You mean this guy?)

Poor Genos is such a worrywart because of his own trauma of losing everything in an instant, it honestly does him good to be able to trust Saitama and that Saitama cannot be harmed that easily. It is good that nowdays, he trusts in Saitama's capabilities to handle himself and he worries a lot less (Chapter 165: Absolute evil), even if he immediately went for an enthusiastic armless glomp on him the moment he saw Saitama was back safe and sound. (Chapter 168: Awakening of the gods)

Otherwise he might want to rush to Saitama's aid without thinking about himself and his own opponent first, like he does with Armored Gorilla, who manages to grab his shoulder when he turns his back to his own enemy. If he cares too much, he lets his guard down against enemies and that is not a good habit to have when his enemies are extremely strong.

A very glaring weakness that could be exploited without mercy in any kind of (double) battle if he does not have the insurance that Saitama is just about impossible to be harmed...well, physically at least.

Genos trust in Saitama's capabilities has unfortunately gotten to the point where he thinks Saitama is an answer to every possible problem mankind could face and where Saitama is basically some sort of messiah. Not without reason either, because Saitama performed some insane feats during the Garou fight. (Chapter 166-168, Chapter 173.)

-*-

Moving back in timeline, Genos is instantly very protective of Saitama, to the point of zealousness and jealosy popping up from time to time when other people try to monopolise Saitama's time to themselves.

Genos overprotectiveness early on also shows in way that he wants to take care of anything that might threathen Saitama's well being without mercy, like blowing up the entirety of the House of Evolution building and ramming himself into the next enemy he sees, that being Carnage Kabuto, but in doing so he can and will easily overexert himself. (Chapter 11: The key to his power)

Genos has immediately become the guard dog of Saitama, that even Flashy flash makes a remark on and tells Genos to sit out like a dog, that Genos immediately refutes by having a peep hole into Saitama's apartment and rejects the proposal of Flashy becoming Saitama's master. (Chapter 193: World I know nothing about)

Genos just outright refuses anybody from monopolising Saitama's time to themselves when he's the one who feels like he has the right to 1 on 1 interaction with Saitama, being his obsessive disciple. 😂

Anybody who dares to waste Saitama sensei's precious time, they have to go through him first.

Early on, Saitama has also learned that he can't scare Genos away with his problems. Genos is far too loyal and even if Saitama wanted to stew with his problem alone, Genos cares far too much already and is far too loyal to be sidelined that easily. (Chapter 15: Hobby and work)

Saitama has also learned that Genos can get quite passionate, intimidating and murderous even if he feels like Saitama's been hurt in some way, such as embarrassed due to low score on his exam when Genos thinks he deserves much better scores, so Saitama has to rein him in lest he seriously go off on some random poor dude who just examined his scores. (Chapter 16: Passed the exam)

(Ah Genos, always over the top reaction. Never change. :D)

-*-

One thing about Genos that gives him points in Saitama's eye is that he is quite willing to explain any concept to Saitama, without judgement even if the logical deduction of said thing would've been easy for to understand. Other people might make snide remarks at Saitama, but not Genos. (Chapter 17: Sparring)

Genos also always has Saitama's best interest in hand and asks if he's going to be fine considering his hero rank and that he hasn't seen Saitama active. (Chapter 18: Business activity)

Genos integrates into Saitama's life almost seamlessly, from grocery shopping to meticulously cleaning the house each and every day, from cleaning the windows, vacuuming, cooking, doing dishes and even scrubbing the toilet on daily basis. There is a lot house work that he does for Saitama.

However, the most outstanding character quality in Genos is that he refuses to give up, no matter how dire or dark the situation may seem, such as during the meteor incident, where he goes completely alone to face such a dragon level threat that it could wipe out the entire city and then some. He cares much about Saitama, but so does he care about the innocent citizens getting caught by such a disaster. (Chapter 21: Giant meteor)

Being close to Saitama, it gives Genos strenght to carry on through even the most difficult tasks shoved on him, because not trusting himself enough and his capabilities will only cause him to hesitate in the face of potential collateral damage and that can be a big weakness in itself when time is of the essence.

After the meteor incident has been dealt with, Genos also shows that he cares a lot about Saitama's feelings and does not want them to be hurt, so that is why he omits telling him that public has made Saitama their enemy, hoping that with time their unjust anger would fade. Unfortunately, that is not to be because Saitama goes outside and faces these angry people anyway. (Chapter 22: Voices)

Genos holds Saitama is very high regard and immediately writes down Saitama's inspiring quote. It is not enough that he cares about his physical and mental well being, but he also cares about Saitama as the person and his feelings, even if he idolizes him a lot.

This trait is further explored in the anime with the extra scene where Genos comes to bring Saitama back home because he worries for Saitama's well being again since the public is turned against him, listens to Saitama's rant and affirms his feelings but still tells Saitama that he would always follow him, no matter what the public thinks about him. Saitama however does not quite get it and only thinks Genos is just buttering him up like earlier, with complements and such, because he does not think of himself very highly but it still manages to bring a smile to his face, something that Genos unfortunately does not get to see. (Episode 7, The greatest apprentice)

Genos being a caring, loyal, headstrong and hardworking protector is put to another test against Sea King, where he gets pummeled and pummels back as much as he can give in an incredible fight, but chooses again to self-sacrifice himself to save a little girl from the corrosive acid of Sea king when he sees no other option to save her, besides throwing his more resilient cyborg body in the way, but at the same time, allows himself to become inoperable and at the mercy of Sea king. (Chapter 26: Glimmer of hope)

It is in Mumen rider's care and headstrong intervention that saves Genos from dying at the hands of Sea King because Saitama had become lost and only just made it there to save them both. At the end, Genos contemplates that he will still follow Saitama, even if the public turned on him en masse and he found himself in a tight spot. (Chapter 28: Since it's raining)

As soon as the letters start pouring in about their heroics, Genos sees how ugly the masses treat Saitama in the form of hate letters and he does not want to stand idly by while everyone throws disparaging comments about Saitama. But poor Genos also feels like he's the one to blame, for showing the letters to Saitama. 😭

This has become quite a long ramble about how Genos is very caring, headstrong, hardworking hero and I could go on for even longer than that since I've only checked out the first portion of the manga for this meta to use as examples, but as a final thought, not a whole lot encompasses Genos as a character than the last panels I can put into this post.

Genos cares so much he does not just fiercely fight for the individuals; he fights for his sensei, for the citizens, for the other heroes and for the world to be a better place, rid of evil. That he still came to Tatsumaki's aid even when the situation seemed hopeless because he could. This humane side of him is very relatable, caring about our loved ones and other human beings is very intrinsical to our own well being as social people. (Chapter 134: Twist & Chapter 137: Resonance)

However, he still has those self-destructing tendencies that are hopefully curbed now that he got positive reinforcement from Saitama for not blowing himself up, so that he values himself a bit more. That he is not expendable piece. (Chapter 155: Results)

Last thoughts, Genos is incredibly passionate individual when it comes to protecting others and avenging his loved ones. He even threw his remainder of a torso directly at Cosmic Garou, just because he's resistant to radiation, with his brain being encompassed behind heavy fortifications. (Chapter 166: Squared.)

(^ Chapter 186: Turning point ^)

Hope y'all enjoyed this incredibly long post about Genos and how he shows his caring side. :D

Thank you @themisterhip for this meta idea on discord. :)

Tl;dr Genos is hardworking, passionate, very caring, meticulous, fierce, intelligent and well-researched individual who fights to the best of his ability for other people, no matter what it takes. Ironically, Genos is one if not the most humane character in the series, despite being a cyborg.

#opm #one punch man #genos #saitama #opm meta #long post #character study #opm manga panels #opm anime screenshots #empathy #humanity #protective #my own work

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soaps-mohawk · 9 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

What Could Have Been

Summary: You've reached the age you can be chosen. Little do you know your future has been planned out from the start.

Pairing: Philip Graves x reader

Word Count: 7, 358 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, a/b/o, Omegaverse, Alternate Universe, AU of an AU, suggestive content, mentioned predatory behaviors towards a minor, Philip Graves is a major creep, reader has a set age for plot (she is an adult), dubcon (pushing noncon at the end) but it's muddy water because a/b/o, kissing, touching, lingerie, panic, coercion, virginity and purity culture, fade to black because I couldn't write smut for this

A/N: I am...very sorry for this. Honestly I've been debating posting it but I wrote 7k words and I don't want that to go to waste. This is very...dark. A lot is implied but there's still some fairly disturbing content because of those things. The reader is 18 in this because of plot, but it still feels very...icky. Definitely recommend reading Chapter 34 before reading this to understand the context. Not necessary to read. Just an AU what if kind of bit for the story.

Also if you're finding this and you've never seen my stuff before, Hi! I highly recommend reading Cherry Red, Crimson Blood first before this for context otherwise some things might not make sense. I suppose it could be read as a stand alone but still, context is nice to have

What Ifs Masterlist | Directory

“You’ve been chosen.”

You had barely managed to get a bite in of breakfast when one of the staff members had pulled you away and led you to the director’s office. None of the omegas at FIOT particularly like him. He’s a small man, middle aged and balding. His scent is...not pleasant. Nutty with undertones of wet animals and whatever he ate for his meals that day. Every omega in the institute dreads being called to his office, being closed in with the offensive smell he permeates.

You would have been experiencing that same disgust had it not been for your shock at his words. “What?” You breathe, eyes wide.

“You’ve been chosen.” He repeats, folding his hands on his desk over a thin file.

“So soon?” You ask, forgetting all decorum and manners you’ve had drilled into your head for two years.

It’s your eighteenth birthday today. You just became old enough to be chosen a matter of hours ago.

“This pack is very eager to claim you as their omega.” He says. “One of their betas will be by tomorrow to interview you.”

Your heart flutters in your chest. While it’s shocking you were chosen so soon, this is what you had hoped for. Two years of training and drilling perfection into your head did pay off. You’ve hardly been on the available list more than a few hours and already there’s a pack interested in you. Something about it has a chill running down your spine, tickling at the base of your neck. You brush it off as shock at this all happening so soon.

“You may return to breakfast.” The director says, going back to his paperwork.

“Thank you, sir.” You say, exiting his office.

It doesn’t feel like your feet touch the floor as you walk back to the mess hall, your body floating as you make your way through the halls. If tomorrow goes well, this will be the last day you spend in this building, this prison you’ve been confined to. They’ll be here as early as they can be tomorrow, if they’re this eager to choose you.

The thought has something prickling in the back of your mind still.

Who are they? Who is this eager to choose you? The must have known about you before you even showed up in the registry as being available. You’ve heard rumors that institutes will supply information about omegas to packs for the right price under the table. Information on omegas that aren’t old enough to be chosen.

You wouldn’t be surprised if FIOT was one of those institutes. The packs that get their omegas here are packs that can pay a hefty price. There’s usually a waiting period while background checks are done and information has to be verified and packs have to interview with the director before omegas themselves can even be interviewed by the pack. You’ve seen it take weeks before.

Whoever the alpha of this pack is...they knew about you before you became available.

“What did the director want?” One of the omegas in your age group asks as you take your seat at the table again. Amanda. She cried for five days when she was brought in.

The others at the table lean in close, like you’re about to reveal some big secret.

“I’ve been chosen.” You tell them. The words almost seem like a foreign language on your tongue.

They all cheer happily, getting looks from the wardens around the mess hall.

“That’s amazing!” Chelsea says, wrapping her arms around you to squeeze you in a tight hug.

“So soon?” Amanda asks as the congratulations die down.

“Yeah.” You say. “They’re interviewing me tomorrow.”

They all share looks, and you know they’re thinking the same thing you are.

The rumors are true.

“Impressive, isn’t she?” The warden for your dorm group says, as if you’re not sitting there too. She’s responsible for overseeing the small group of eight omegas you’re a part of. She’s the most knowledgeable about the omegas under her watchful eyes, and it’s standard practice for the wardens to sit in on the interviews between the pack beta and the omega being chosen.

“Quite.” The beta says, looking over your thick file. Bryan, he’d introduced himself as. He’d shaken your hand, something you hadn’t been expecting. He acknowledged you as existing right away, something that doesn’t happen often in the stories you’ve heard about interviews, stories from omegas that had made it this far in the process, but were rejected in the end. “Excellent scores, quite extensive essays.” He says, flipping through the file. He’s not really looking at it. You can see his eyes just scanning the pages. He already knows. He came into the building with his answer.

Whoever his alpha is has already seen your file.

He closes the file, pushing it forward on the table. He’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes on you. Yours are lowered respectfully, no matter how badly you want to stare back at him.

“To be honest, my alpha already made his decision before I got here.” Bryan says, leaning his arms on the table. “Your profile was enough to convince him.”

“So, you’d like to move forward with the process?” Warden Jameson asks.

“Yes.” He says, nodding. “She’s going to be a perfect fit.”

You glance up at him, a warm smile on his face as he stares at you. It’s really happening. You really have been chosen.

The next hour is a flurry of paperwork and signatures. None from you, of course, but from the beta of your new pack. The paperwork would be sent to your new alpha to sign off on and to finalize the decision once you meet him. No one has ever been sent back after that point, yet you can’t help the nervous flutter in your stomach. What if they don’t like you after all? What if they made a hasty decision and regret it as soon as they meet you? What if you mess everything up?

You follow Bryan and the director towards the entrance to the building, something you haven’t seen since your tour after your arrival. It’s off limits to omegas, several locked doors standing between them and freedom.

Or more like to keep others out.

There’s someone at the front desk as you pass by, and you turn to look out of curiosity. It’s a middle aged woman with blonde hair, dressed in a business suit. “Kate Laswell, here for an appointment with Director Jones.”

You don’t get to hear anything else, ushered out into the world by the director. You’ve heard how giddy he gets about omegas leaving from staff, though you supposed that’s because it’s extra money in his pockets. The more omegas he can match and get out of FIOT, the more the government pays him.

“I’m looking forward to hearing how she’s settling in.” The director says to Bryan as he hands off your small bag of meager belongings.

“Of course.” Bryan says, setting it in the front seat of the car waiting out front. “My alpha will be in touch.”

“Good.” He shakes Bryan’s hand before turning to you. “Good luck. I expect the best from you.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say, dropping your gaze out of respect.

Bryan opens the car door for you and you slide in, smoothing out your skirt. You’re still in your uniform, and you won’t be able to change until you get to where you’re going. If they let you change. It’s important they remember where you came from, where you were taught the things you’re supposed to know, where you were trained to be the perfect omega. As if they could forget where they paid for you.

Bryan drives away from the institute, taking you away from the place that’s been your home for the last two years. It’s the first time you’ve been outside those walls since you were forced in, ripped away from your home the day after your presentation. You’ve thought about your family many times over the last two years. Where are they now? How are they doing? What have your siblings been up to? Have any of them presented as omegas too?

Maybe your new alpha will let you contact them again.

It’s wishful thinking. Most don’t. Not the kinds of alphas that buy from FIOT.

“Nervous?” Bryan asks, glancing at you through the rearview mirror.

“Yes, sir.” You say, smoothing your hands over your skirt. You’re projecting your scent without even realizing it. “Sorry, sir.”

He smiles. “I don’t blame you. I’d be nervous too. Don’t worry, though. You’re going to a good place.”

Despite his well meaning words, you can’t help but feel a bit of trepidation. Is it a good place? Or is it only a good place by beta’s standards? He can’t possibly know, he can’t possibly understand, unless there’s other omegas.

You’re almost excited by the thought of being around other omegas in a pack. Having that chance to have friends and bond with others like you who know. Those who understand.

You can’t help but stare as Bryan pulls into the parking garage of a very nice hotel. The cars in the parking garage are some of the most expensive you’ve ever seen. You’re not surprised, given the types of alphas that choose omegas from FIOT. Rich, important alphas looking for trophies to wave around.

Look at me, look at my perfect omega.

Bryan opens your door for you, helping you out of the car. He’s holding your bag in his hand, using the other to guide you towards the elevator. His hand is warm, even though your back is beginning to sweat a bit. You’re really nervous now, but you try to keep your scent under control.

Your new life is about to begin, the life of a claimed omega.

Unless they don’t like you.

You have to do everything in your power to make sure they do.

The elevator ride seems to take a lifetime as you go up to a high floor overlooking the city. You’ve never stayed in a hotel this nice before. You’ve never even been in a building with this many floors before.

Bryan leads you down the hall to a door, using the keycard to open it. He gives you a reassuring smile before pushing it open and guiding you through. It’s a suite, possibly the nicest hotel room you’ve ever seen. Bryan leads you to the small living area, the man you assume is your alpha seated on one of the couches. He’s sitting there casually, ankle crossed over his knee, his arm thrown over the back of the couch. There’s a grin on his face, your eyes widening as you stare at him.

“Phil?”

It comes out before you can stop it, all training and decorum leaving as you stare at him in shock. His smile widens, showing off perfect white teeth and dimples. He’s a bit older now than he had been back then, but it is him.

“Hi darlin’.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Been a while.”

Ten years or so. He was your dad’s best friend while he was stationed in Texas. He was at your house constantly, sitting around watching sports and standing in the backyard while your father barbequed. He was always friendly to you, always sitting just a little too close, always hovering. You hadn’t thought anything about it back then. You were too young to understand.

Now you do.

You drop your gaze as he approaches, trying to recover from your shock. You still have an impression to make, a role to fill. Calloused fingers cup your chin, lifting your face back up. You stare up into Phil’s bright blue eyes, just as friendly as you remember them being.

“None of that.” He says softly. “We’re familiar with each other, aren’t we?”

“Yes, sir.” You say, swallowing thickly.

A small smile tugs at his lips before he releases you. “Come on, make yourself comfortable.” He motions to the couches. “We've got a few things to discuss.”

Nerves twist in your stomach as you move to the couches, tucking your skirt under you before you sit. The couch is comfortable, your body sinking into the cushion. It's far more comfortable than the chairs and benches at the institute. He takes a seat right next to you, draping an arm across the back of the couch behind you.

His fingers curl under your chin again, turning your head so you're looking at him. Those bright blue eyes scan your face, taking in every detail.

“Those pictures didn't do you any justice.” He says. Your file is sitting on the table in front of you. “You've always been a pretty little thing.” His thumb traces your jaw, your stomach churning. “Look like your mom more than your dad. That's certainly not a bad thing.” He smirks.

He holds you there for a moment staring into your eyes. Something tickles in the back of your mind as he stares at you, something instinctual like a warning. He releases you, dropping his hand back onto his lap.

“It's good to see you again.” He says, the fingers of the hand behind you playing with the strands of your hair. “A lot has changed, hasn't it? I got old, you became an omega. I always knew you would. Your temperament wasn't right for an alpha. Always so calm and eager to please. You weren't rowdy like your brothers. Always such a sweet little thing.” His fingers trail over the back of one of your hands where it's draped in your lap. Your stomach clenches at his touch, something churning inside you, something you haven't felt since the last time you were around him. “You didn't deserve the way he treated you. It wasn't your fault for becoming what you are.”

He's talking about your father.

“How did you-”

“I was the one he called.” Phil says simply. “Raging and carrying on about his useless child presenting as an omega.” He shakes his head. “So I pulled some strings, promised some favors, and got you into FIOT immediately, with the stipulation that you would be mine as soon as you were old enough.” He grins. “Now here we are!”

You swallow thickly, staring at him. “It was you?”

He nods. “Had to make sure you'd be taken care of until I could come yet you myself. Now you’re here.” His arm wraps tighter around you, the hand that had been brushing yours dropping to wrap around your thigh. You stare up at him as he leans down slightly closer to you. He smells just like you remember. Woody with the rich scent of chocolate underneath. “I will take care of you.” He says, looking pointedly into your eyes. “You'll want for nothing and you'll be happy.”

Will you?

You break away first, your eyes dropping to stare at the hand that’s gripping your thigh, fingers indenting the skin through your tights. It feels like a threat, a silent reminder of the power dynamic between you, something he won’t say out loud. He’s an alpha, you’re only an omega. He has control over you, he can dictate your entire life now that you’ve been chosen by him. You belong to him, just as he’s wanted.

He’s been waiting longer than two years.

“You hungry?” He asks, his entire demeanor suddenly shifting.

You are hungry. You had left the institute just before lunch, and you had barely been able to eat breakfast because of the nerves. You nod, deciding telling the truth is better than to try to lie to him early on. “Yes, sir.”

He gives you a grin. “You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Phil, just like old times.” He finally releases you, leaning forward to grab a tri-fold menu off the table. “Pick whatever you like.” He says, putting it in your hands. “I’ll be right back.”

He gets up from the couch and you watch him go before turning back to the menu. The prices make your stomach churn. Your family wasn’t necessarily poor, but with so many of you, you certainly weren’t taking very many vacations very often. Your family moved around so much there wasn’t much of a need to take vacations either.

You’re not even sure what to do, looking at the menu. What was acceptable? What if you ordered something too expensive. With a hotel room like this, you’re not sure you could order something too expensive. You’re not even quite sure what Phil does anymore. You remember overhearing a conversation he had with your dad about joining MARSOC before he disappeared from your lives. Is he still involved with the military? Did he leave and enter a new career field, one that allows him to stay in places like this?

You might never know. It’s not your job to know things like that.

You just need to know how to serve your alpha and take care of him, follow his orders and give him pups when he desires them. Be a good omega and do whatever it is he wants. Your wants don’t matter, only your alpha’s.

“Decide what you want?” Phil asks, appearing in front of you again.

You jump in surprise, having been so caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him approaching. You’ll have to break that habit and fast. “Yes.” You say, even though you hadn’t even read through the menu in its entirety.

You try to stop your hands from shaking, picking out the first thing your eyes land on. You’re not even quite sure what it is or if you’ll like it. You needed an answer and you gave it to him. Just exactly what he wanted.

That is your job, after all.

Give him exactly what he wants.

The bed looks plush and comfortable, larger than you’ve slept on in a long time. The beds at FIOT weren’t too terribly uncomfortable, but you’ve gotten so used to sharing a room it seems strange to be sleeping on your own.

That’s not the only reason it feels strange.

“Are you not going to-”

Phil cuts you off before you can finish, not even needing to know what you were going to ask. “No. Not here.” He says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s for when we’re at home. Besides,” He smooths a hand over your hair. “You’ve had a long day.”

He stares down at you for a moment, and you almost think he’s changing his mind, deciding he can’t wait until you’re back in Texas. Instead he takes a step back, turning to the dresser your bag had been set on. There’s other shopping bags next to it, things you hadn't even noticed when you walked in.

You had been too focused on the bed.

“Bryan picked up some clothes.” He turns back to look at you, his hand trailing down your back. “As cute as the uniform is, I’d rather you be comfortable.”

You can see it in his eyes. He’s picturing you in it, and not standing before him. It makes your skin crawl.

“Get some sleep.” He says, moving his hand from your lower back. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow. You need anything, I’m across the hall and Bryan’s next door.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thank you, Phil.”

He grins down at you, dimples indenting in his cheeks. “Of course, darlin’.”

You stare at the door for a minute after he closes it, holding your breath. You half expect him to come back in, change his mind and decide he’d rather do it here. He could barge in, force you down on the bed and you wouldn’t be able to do anything. You’re not supposed to do anything.

Good omegas do as they’re told. Good omegas don’t fight back.

You wish the door had a lock on it.

You jolt awake as you’re jostled in your seat. You let out a quiet sound, not quite sure where you even are, much less what’s going on.

“Just a bit of turbulence.” A voice says, pushing your head to rest against a shoulder again.

Right. You’re on a plane heading towards Dallas. You didn’t realize you fell asleep, your head resting on Phil’s shoulder. He smells like scent blockers, all three of you do. The plane is a cocktail of scents, the chemical burn of scent blocker mixed with the ugly mesh of too many scents in one confined space. Not everyone has the decency to use scent blockers while traveling. You’ve always hated planes for that reason.

You stretch your legs out as much as you can, your knee bumping the tray lightly. It had been lowered, you assume, at some point while you were asleep. Your book is sitting on it, the book you had been reading before you fell asleep. It’s the only one you own, a worn out copy you stole from FIOT’s library during your first week and never returned. The cover is faded and nearly falling off, the pages yellowed and stiff from how many times it’s been read over the last two years.

You’d had a brief discussion about it before you descended into silence, Phil promising you all the books your heart desires once you get to his home. Your home.

It’s your home now too. You’re no longer attached to your family, no longer attached to the institute. Phil is your world now, and you exist solely in his sphere. You’re dependent on him, and once the claim is made and the paperwork is filed, you will be his forever.

There won’t be any going back.

Phil will never change his mind.

The plane jostles again and you grip the arm resting on your leg out of instinct.

“Easy.” Phil shushes you, his lips brushing your forehead. His hand closes around yours, squeezing it gently. “Haven’t flown much, have you?”

“Twice.” You say, your fully awake brain realizing you’re still leaning against his shoulder, but you’re not sure you should move. He obviously likes it if he let it happen. Will he get mad if you try to move? Would he reprimand you on the plane, even if you are quite spaced out in first class?

He hums, resting his cheek on your head. “We’ll go on lots of flights together. I’ll take you all over the world.”

Would he take you to see your family again?

They were friends once. He has to at least know where they are and what they’re doing. Would he do that for you? Or is he going to keep you isolated as expected to prevent those bonds from forming again. Your only bonds should be with him and his pack. Not your old pack that you left behind for a reason.

You don’t know anything about his pack.

You know he has a beta, Bryan, his most trusted beta, from the looks of it. How many others are there? How many other alphas and betas? Is he head alpha, or is there someone else? You can’t imagine Phil not being in charge. He always seemed to take command of a room, even with other alphas. Even with your dad.

Are there other omegas in his pack? Or will you be alone, surrounded by alphas and betas?

Can you even ask him? Or is he saving that for later, when you’re at his home. Would he get annoyed if you asked? Would it ruin his plan that he obviously has laid out?

Your name being said brings you back to reality, your head tilting to look up at Phil. He’s staring down at you, his eyebrows raised.

“Welcome back.” He says, and for a second you wonder if you fell asleep again. “Lost in your head there, huh?”

You swallow thickly. “Yeah. My instructors said I have a lot of strengths, but my one fault is I think too much. Sometimes they’d say I’m sucking all the thoughts out of the room. Though, I think that was less of an insult towards me.”

Phil chuckles. “Got a lot of things going on in that head of yours. Just don’t let it get you too distracted. Hate for something to happen to you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead again as the plane begins its descent.

His words almost feel like a threat again, like a silent warning that something will happen if you don’t stop thinking so much. Will he try to fix that habit for you? Will he try to break you of that? Good omegas don’t have to think, they know and they act. An omega with too many thoughts is too independent. Alphas don’t like independent omegas. They want someone to listen and do as they're told, not question their orders.

You can’t help but sense the silent threat that radiates from him, the undertone of danger that has warning bells going off in your head. He’s been nice and polite and caring so far.

How long will that last once you’re in the privacy of his home?

It’s a nice neighborhood. Nicer than you’ve ever lived in, at least. The houses are big, the cars parked outside are nice, the lawns are pristine. It’s all very picturesque, it all feels very...manufactured.

Phil drives to the end of the cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of one of the two houses facing the rest of the street. There’s an American flag hung up on the porch rustling with the soft breeze. It’s warm outside, something you haven’t missed. It’s been years since you’ve lived in Texas, ten almost. You had been eight years old when your father received his next change of station orders and your family packed up and moved again.

That had just been shortly after Phil disappeared from your family’s lives.

Phil pulls into the garage, parking the SUV next to a rather expensive looking classic sports car. You stare at it for a moment, questioning just what Phil does and how much he makes from doing it. You’re not sure you want to know.

You fumble with the seatbelt as Bryan opens the door for you, blinking yourself out of your haze. He offers a hand and you let him help you out of the car to not seem rude. Phil gives you a small smile as you approach him.

He cups your chin, staring down at your face. “Jet lagged?” He asks, his thumb stroking your jaw before letting you go.

Jet lagged, confused, uncomfortable, unsure. All of the above.

“Yes.” You nod.

“Come on. I’ll give you a tour and then you can nap.” He says, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

He opens the door into the house, unlocked, you note. The inside is nice. Clean, pristine, staged looking. You’re not sure if anyone even lives in the house. You can’t help but wonder if Phil bought this house just for this moment.

“Cleaners come twice a week.” He says as he leads you around the first floor. “This whole space is yours, except for this room.” He says pointing out a door at the end of one hallway. “This is my office. Door’s always locked at all times. No one is allowed in besides me. You see anyone trying to get in, you tell me right away. Understood?”

You nod. The idea of what could be behind that door has a shiver running down your spine.

“Good girl.” He says, booping your nose. “Now, for the best part.”

He leads you upstairs, giving you a quick tour of guest bedrooms that don’t look like they’ve been touched, bathrooms far too clean to have ever been used. Why he needs so much space is beyond you.

No, you know why.

He leads you down to the end of a hallway, a door looming in front of you. You know what’s behind it. It’s what’s been clawing at you since the plane landed, since the drive from the airport, since you stepped foot in Phil’s home. Your home.

It’s nice inside. Clean, well organized. It looks like a stage in a movie. The bed is large, larger than necessary you think. The comforter is a deep navy with nothing but the necessary amount of pillows on it. There’s a chair in the corner that doesn’t look like it’s ever been sat in. A TV hangs on the wall across from the bed and a dresser sits between two doors on the far wall. The closet and bathroom you assume. It’s spacious, but not comforting.

That’s your job.

“Don’t worry, you can add your womanly touch to it later.” Phil says, stepping up behind you. You can’t hide the way your body tenses as his hands slide up your arms. His breath fans over your ear as he leans down, pressing his face against your neck. “We’re going to make good use of this room.” His lips brush your throat, tongue darting out to lick your scent gland. He hums appreciatively. “Sweeter than I remember, those strawberries.” His arms wrap around you, pinning your back against his chest. “We were made for each other.”

Your stomach clenches as his scent intensifies, blending with yours. You try not to panic as his lips drag up the side of your neck. There’s no stopping him. There’s no convincing him to wait.

He presses his nose into your hair, taking a deep breath in. “Get some rest.” He finally releases you. “I’ve got some things to take care of, and I don’t doubt the girls will want to take you shopping.”

“Girls?” You frown, turning to face him.

“The other pack omegas. They’re excited to finally meet you.”

Oh. You haven’t even thought about the pack or how big it is or its dynamics. Everything has happened so quickly, there’s been no time for discussions like that. You suppose you should have that conversation soon. Though, it’s been a long day already and he’s not wrong. You do need some rest.

‘A good night’s sleep is essential for omegas to do their jobs effectively. No alpha wants a whiny omega.’

He brushes his hand over your hair, giving you a soft smile. “Take a nap. You look like you need one.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, closing the door behind him. You stare at it for a long moment, half expecting him to change his mind, but you can hear him going down the stairs. You can hear everything in the silence of the house. It’s almost too quiet after the constant noise of the institute. There’s always someone talking, moving around, making noise. Even at night it was never truly quiet.

Now the silence is almost loud in your ears.

It won’t be silent forever.

You stare at the bed, half tempted to just curl up on the floor. He would be mad if you slept in one of the guest rooms. He’d know immediately. You’ll have to brave the bed. Better to do it now than when you have no choice.

“Look at you!” Hands squeeze your arms. There’s so many scents floating around you, yet it’s comforting. You’re among your own again. “Oh, you’re just a baby aren’t you?”

Natalie, her name is. You had been introduced in a flurry of excitement, and you had lost track of most of their names. Doesn’t matter, you’ll learn them all eventually.

Her alpha is Osmond, ‘Oz’ as he’d told you to call him, Phil’s second alpha. Not necessarily a large man, but highly intimidating nonetheless. You’d guess Natalie to be in her 30s, though you’ve never been good at guessing ages.

“How old are you, sweetie?” She asks, squeezing your arms again. She’s trying to comfort you in your obvious state of overwhelm.

“Eighteen.” You answer, staring up at her.

Something flashes across her face, but it disappears as quickly as it arrived. “You are a baby.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to cover and we’ve got some errands to run.”

There’s a lot of omegas. Phil had finally broken down the pack and its dynamics over a late lunch, even introducing you to a few members on your way to Oz’s house. You had your suspicions that Phil was pack alpha, and you were right. His presence, the kind of power he radiates. You’re going to be the head omega once Phil has claimed you. Natalie has been serving that position, as second alpha’s omega.

You’re not sure you want to take it from her.

They’re all older than you, if by only a couple of years. You do feel like a baby in their midst, so unprepared and unsure. It’s natural to feel that way, you were taught. There’s a shift, a change in dynamics, an adjustment period in the pack when a new omega is added.

Why couldn’t Phil have just been the family alpha type?

“Phil says you’ve known him for a while.” Anna, Marcus’ omega, says.

You nod. “He was friends with my dad when he was stationed in Fort Worth.”

“That was a while ago.” Jenny says.

“About ten years.” You say.

Silence falls in the room for a moment. It’s a tense silence, speaking volumes of their understanding and the realization of the situation. They won’t say anything. They can’t say anything.

“Well,” Natalie says, breaking the silence. “We’re glad you’re here. If you need anything at all, you’ve got us now.” She wraps her arms around you again. She reminds you a bit of your mother, perhaps if your mother hadn’t been constrained by the controlling nature of your father. “All omegas truly have is each other, right?”

The others agree with her, and you can’t deny it. What do omegas really have? Nothing their alphas don’t want them to have. Nothing parents, institutes, anyone in control don’t want them to have.

All we really have is each other.

“I mean it.” Natalie says. “Anything at all.”

They are excited to take you shopping, despite the heaviness of the conversation that had transpired. They spoil you, throwing bags and bags in the back of the SUV, brushing off any concerns about money. Anything you want or need, you get several of them. It’s overwhelming after never getting anything but the bare necessities and what the institute wants you to have.

Marcus, one of the higher ranking alphas in the pack, follows everyone around like a security detail. You had been concerned upon hearing only one alpha was accompanying you...until you saw Marcus for the first time. He’s big. Very big. Tall and bulky, he’s the perfect specimen of an alpha. Many young omegas’ dream alpha. Marcus is intimidating, letting off a dangerous air which causes most that pass your group to not even give you a second glance.

He escorts your small group around, offering up no question or complaint. You almost wish he was going to be your alpha, but then again, you know almost nothing about him. You don’t even really know that much about Phil. Most of the things you know are things you overheard from conversations he had with your father. But how trustworthy are those things, really? You hadn’t understood much until now. Now it all makes sense.

A lot of things make sense now.

Natalie stands with you on the sidewalk as Marcus and Bryan carry load after load of bags into Phil’s house. Your house. You’re scared for what’s coming tonight. Phil won’t wait. He won’t put things off, he won’t hold off until your first heat. He’ll want to make things official now, stake his claim as soon as possible. He’s waited ten years for this.

Natalie smiles softly down at you, a knowing look in her eyes. “Nervous?” She asks, picking up on your uneasy energy.

You nod, trying to stop the tears from pooling in your eyes. Good omegas serve their alphas, no matter what.

“I know what that’s like. I was scared shitless too.” She laughs quietly. “I think Oz was just as nervous too. Just relax and breathe. Phil will take care of you. That I can be confident about.” Her smile turns almost bittersweet. She knows. She understands. “You’ll be alright. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, okay?”

You nod, trying to suppress your nervousness. Natalie will understand, though you’re not so sure Phil will.

You look terrified as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You bathed an hour ago and yet you still can’t quite bring yourself to leave the bathroom. You smooth your hands over the silk hugging your skin for the thousandth time. You’re shocked you haven’t worn through the thin fabric yet with your sweaty palms.

Your eyes dart down to the sink, your stomach churning wildly as the bedroom door closes. Phil is back. You’ll have to leave the bathroom soon. You can’t spend the whole night behind the locked door.

You don’t doubt he’d break it down eventually.

Then he’ll be angry.

You let out a long breath, curling your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. You have to do this. This is your job, your duty as an omega. Serve your alpha and make him happy. Be a good omega and do what he says. Obedience is an omega’s purpose. This is always what was going to happen, be it with Phil or with a stranger. Perhaps there is a small comfort in the fact you know Phil. You’re familiar with him. Why would he wait ten years for you just to hurt you?

The little food you managed to eat churns uncomfortably in your stomach. Phil had treated you to dinner before he’d left again, giving you time to clean up and prepare yourself for tonight. For right now.

You spritz more scent-enhancing perfume on your skin before you let out a long breath. You try to fix your face, not look quite so terrified, but you’re not sure you can hold it as you unlock the door, turning the knob.

The light in the closet is on, the door half open. Phil must be in there, likely having to maneuver around bags. You’d unpacked some things and put them away, but you’d nearly had a breakdown when you reached the lingerie store bags. You’re wearing some of it now, the silk robe and little white number your fellow omegas had gotten you. Specifically for tonight, you think. You won’t be wearing it again.

The closet door opens fully, Phil standing there in nothing but his jeans. His eyes trail your body as you stand there awkwardly in the middle of the room. His teeth sink into his lip, his scent thickening. You’re trying to look anywhere but at him but you can’t help the way your eyes are drawn to his form. He’s just as tall and muscular as you remember, more lean than bulky like your father had been. His skin is pale, though you can’t imagine him spending much time lounging in the backyard by the pool. Under the awning at the grill with a beer in hand as he used to do, that you can picture.

“Look at you.” He says, turning off the light before stepping fully out of the closet. “All wrapped up like a present just for me.”

You feel like vomiting as he approaches you slowly. You feel like a rabbit trapped in the sights of a hungry wolf, too afraid to run, too afraid to fight back. You’re going to be devoured and there’s no stopping it.

You jump as his hand cups your face, your eyes darting up to his. There’s a soft look in them, an attempt at soothing your fear. There’s nothing he can do to make this easier, though, other than just get it over with.

It’ll get easier. That’s what Anna told you. Eventually your omega will be happy, content with a good alpha and a pack. It’s just an adjustment. That’s why it’s recommended to wait when adding a new omega. Get past the adjustment period before reaching this stage.

How do you stop an alpha that’s been waiting ten years?

Most alphas don’t wait anyway.

“Don’t be scared, darlin’.” He says, lips tilting up in a smile. “I’ll take good care of you.”

His fingers tug at the ties of the robe around your waist, your heart thudding in your chest. You’re shocked he can’t hear it. It’s pulsing in your ears, nearly blocking out all sound as he pulls the tie free, revealing your lacy lingerie underneath. He lets out a low whistle as he pushes the robe off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

“Look. At. You.” He says, enunciating each word. His hands slide down your sides, brushing lace and smooth skin. “Can’t wait much longer.” He nearly groans, his gaze darkening. He steps up closer to you, your gaze locked on his. You can’t look down, you can’t stare at the tent in his jeans, you can’t stare at the bulge that’s brushing against your pelvis with every breath. “You ever done this before?” He asks.

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “N-No.”

“No?” He raises a brow. “Not even a kiss?”

You shake your head.

“Pure little thing, all for me.” He nearly growls, pushing his body fully against yours. His hand cups the side of your neck, something tingling in the back of your brain as his fingers brush the sensitive skin on the back of your neck.

You’re distracted from that tingle though as he kisses you, his lips rough against yours. You’re not sure what to do, but he doesn’t seem to care. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. Your stomach is churning, not entirely from nerves anymore as his scent completely takes over, clouding your mind. Despite your nerves and hesitation, your omega purrs appreciatively. He smells good, like alpha. It’s exactly what your omega wants, what she’s been craving.

“Fuck,” He groans against your lips, hands tugging at the lace covering your lower back. “So fucking sweet.” He bites at your lower lip, harder than you're expecting. You let out a quiet nose but that only seems to encourage him.

He pulls away from you, turning you towards the bed. Your palms fall against the mattress to catch yourself. The comforter has been pulled down, your hands falling against the sheets. White sheets.

Phil’s hands drag up your back until it reaches the top of the lace. He rips it easily, tearing it down the back before he pushes it off your shoulders. His hands run over your skin as he pushes the lace from your body, his back meeting your chest. His skin is warm against yours, his bulge pushing up against your ass at this angle.

“Sweet little omega.” He growls, pressing his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. “All for me. All mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, alpha.” You say, fingers curling into the sheet beneath your hands.

He hums appreciatively, nipping at the skin over your scent gland. You can’t help but begin to feel a stirring in your stomach. It feels good, despite everything. Your omega is growing complacent, the promise of what’s coming not nearly quite so frightening.

It gets easier.

Phil’s hands rest on your stomach, pushing your body tight against his. “Can’t wait for your next heat.” He groans, pushing his hips against your ass. “Gonna pump you full until it takes, give you a pup like you’ll be begging for. Keep you pumped full, just like your mama, huh. You’ll give me a big pack, won’t you?”

You’re glad he can’t see your face as he holds you there, your eyes glued to the white sheet in front of you. You desperately fight back the tears blurring your vision.

“Yes, alpha.”

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #alternate universe #au of an au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha philip graves #omega reader

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kommandonuovidiavoli · 3 months ago

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ok first of All, thank u so much for answering my KND mourning Au question. Loved the art ! 😍 I’m sorry if I’m bothering u. There’s an AU Idea that JUST struck me like a lightning bolt ⚡️. What if Irwin,Sydney,Lou,Charlie & Ray became the DCFDTL in 1984 instead of Sector Z? How much would change? Like Sector V since Wally canonically can’t exist in that universe. Would Sector Z become members of the Adult division? Who would marry who? Would their kids become members of Sector V? Would any of the C.A.K.E episodes change. Would they find away for the 5 to come back permanently?

You don’t have 2 if you don’t wanna, I just think it’s a neat idea 4 an AU 👐🏻Anyways have a good day! 😃

Here's a little visualization of them... spoopy. As for the rest, let's go for a rant under read more.

Being that Sector Z was the best of the best, I'm more than sure that all of them got promoted to the Adult Division, and now have jobs that allow them to keep an eye on the other kids.

Specifically, they might take the roles other characters have, such as:

Alessandra is the elementary school teacher. No were-dog shenanigans, unfortunately, but everyone likes her because she's very energetic and creative; she makes sure the is school safe and fair for them. She had that mishap with Grandma Stuffum but welp... it can happen;

Lenny is one of Mr Boss' workers, taking Sydney's role. He's the one who will solve the "take your daughter to work" situation and help Kuki get everyone back;

Constance will be one of the moms... even if no one has ever seen her kids. But this way, she's allowed into other moms' spaces, and makes sure Sector V is doing their job by casually visiting the kid's moms;

David works more secretly: he's never seen around unless things get really bad. He's Vicky's second;

And then... Bruce... my boy... I am so sorry... you're the new Toiletnator BUT DON'T WORRY! You'll have a slightly different costume and approach to the character! You will crack jokes every second and make everyone laugh as you want! The best jokes are for complete distraction! You'll do great!

(obligatory pic otherwise someone is gonna kill me @numbuhinfinitys )

As for how they got there instead of Sector Z:

As I said, Sector Z will disappear in 1984. Their Soopreme Leader Numbuh 420 told them that there was some strange activity in a house down the lane in a city in Virginia, and asked them to go investigate.

Being that, at that point, Sector Z and Sector Ʌ were friends, David was the one suggesting that Sector Ʌ investigate instead, so they can show not only Numbuh 420 but THE WHOLE ORGANIZATION that they could do as good as any other sector.

Billie was a bit unsure but accepted the challenge, and the Australian group headed to this mysterious mansion.

There was a furious fight that involved lasers and gorillas and after that, Sector Ʌ disappeared.

Sector Z felt guilty and after some months of nothing, they took matters into their own hands and went to that mansion to see what was going on, only to be met by a young Father and his Delightful Children, who looked too much like their lost friends.

Since then, they swore they would find a way to bring them back, but also keep the other kids safe from them (spoiler: they took it too easy but realised how dangerous they could really be when they made Nigel bald).

INTERESTING THINGS THAT CAN CHANGE:

In Z.E.R.O. two things can happen: Sector Z comes out to help Monty fight Grandfather / Sector Ʌ is undelightfulizied and fights alongside Nigel;

Monty isn't the one that turns Sector Ʌ back to normal; it's actually David who gets the honour, and the two Sectors have a little sweet moment where they recognise each other and are told what they need to do;

Lou and Syd always hold hands, but you cannot see it because Charlie is in front of them;

Since the delightfulization works with kids who are not previously well educated, I think Irwin might sometimes snap out of it; he's had a very strict education that overlaps with the delightfulization. As we know, two negatives make a positive.

Sector V misses a Numbuh 4. In each "episode" there is a new kid filling that spot, and every time they quit because that Sector is "too much".

Around the second season, sometimes they get help from a kid with blonde, wavy hair and green eyes, and he's the one they eventually give the codename "Numbuh 4", even if it's not official. He earns their trust completely.

Yes, Irwin is Numbuh 4 and a Delightful Child, but there's no risk of backstabbing: when he's Numbuh 4, he doesn't remember anything about his Delightful status, and when he's a Delightful Children, he doesn't remember about his Numbuh 4 status;

When he's Numbuh 4, Irwin doesn't remember his real name. When he was asked what it was, Hoagie remarked how it sounded like he was from Australia > Australia has a marsupial that sounds like a name > "My name is Wallabee. Wally for short."

It's gonna be fun and sad when it comes out, but also, it will give Sector Z a new hope to bring all of them back;

Needless to say, the end of INTERVIEWS is NOT canon here. Maybe the one in the previous bullet point is the end of the Delightfuls: a hope for the future;

And since I first talked about Z.E.R.O.: Numbuh 4 is strangely absent, saying he was going to tackle the zombie invasion from another point and then disappearing. He reappears at the very end in from the wreckage of the treehouse;

Numbuh 442, Irwin, and Numbuh 4 all have different looks as seen below;

It's a kind of "Superman/Clark Kent" situation. Abby is slowly connecting the dots.

Goes without saying but HE AND KUKI WILL HAVE NO ROMANCE. Irwin is not interested in love, and even if Kuki might have a crush, he will politely reject her and ask to be friends;

To the answer "do the other know about Irwin's double identity?" I reply: no. They don't. They DO notice when he's not around (of course), but when he's Numbuh 4 the hivemind doesn't work anymore;

Back to the group: as Delightful Children, they don't have the Australian accent, and talk in plain English;

They have normal CAKED episodes, but of course, Numbuh 4 is absent in all of them;

And... that's it, nothing else comes to mind.

THANKS, NOW I HAVE ANOTHER AU TO ADD TO THE LIST SIGH.

#Delightful Switch AU #knd #kids next door #codename kids next door #sector z #sector v #sector Ʌ #delightful children from down the lane #dcfdtl

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passionwillow · 4 months ago

Text

Hank Voight - NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Surprisingly affectionate. He’s always softer with you, but it surprised you at first how soft he could be. He always gives you a gentle kiss when you’re finished, and takes a moment to lay with you. Basking in the afterglow, letting his breathing steady before getting up. He always cleans you up after with gentle hands before grabbing you some water. Then it’s a cuddle fest. Arms locking you in place against his chest. Skin to skin, still naked, tangled up with him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his hands. They can do some serious damage while he’s at work, but with you he gets to use them for something else. Holding you, caressing you, helping you fold laundry or cook dinner.

On you, he loves your thighs. Soft and plush, he can just grab at them. The way they move when you walk has him thinking the filthiest things. When you wrap them around his waist, or his head..

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He has a desperate need to finish inside you. He’s a possessive person. It marks you as his, claims you. Watching your face when he fills you, the way you clench and flutter around his cock. Watching it spill out of you after.

If you’re not down for that, that’s totally fine! Your comfort and consent comes first. He’s content to finish on those delicious thighs or your tummy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a stack of photos of you at work. You in lingerie, nudes you've sent him, any dirty picture you've sent him. He loves to look over them at work. When it's been a stressful day, he knows he won't be home for a while, he'll pull them out and drool.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh he knows exactly what he's doing. He can read your body language like a pro and knows exactly what you need and what you like.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. He loves to have you caged under him, pressed as close as he can as he thrusts into you. Lips against yours or your cheek, his deep grunts filling your ears as he pushes impossibly deeper. Sometimes he'll place your leg on his shoulder, pushing even deeper and harder each time.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely more serious. He feels so lucky to have you in his life and sex isn't anything that's casual to him, it's intimate. If something humorous happens he might chuckle and smile. But otherwise it's all focus.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it trimmed and neat enough. He isn't going to shave bare but he definitely is neat with it. On you, he couldn't care less. Shaved bald, full bush, whatever in between. He isn't phased.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He turns into the biggest, softest man. Cupping your cheeks and kissing you so soft and sweet. Take a gentle hold of your neck as he holds you close. Hand on your lower back as he pulls you in. Whispering soft and sweet about how he loves you, calling you all the pet names he can think of.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he's pent up and frustrated, he absolutely does. He's always thinking of you or looking at those pictures. Spilling over his hand with a throaty groan, head thrown back and eyes closed.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves to use his cuffs on you. Hands secured above your head to the bed as he holds your hips in a bruising grip, thrusting into you steady and slow. Or, he likes to cuff them behind your back. Pulling your hips back so you're arched for him, taking you from behind.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. The bed, the couch, the kitchen, his office.. Anywhere away from private eyes and he's down. As long as no ones sees you and he can have the moment with you, he doesn't care.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything you do gets him turned on. Your laughter, your smile, watching you cook or clean. Listening to you talk about your day, the way you get excited about work. Just you being you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurt you or embarrass you in anyway. Spanking, hair pulling, biting, that's one thing. But anything that would hurt you, make you bleed, or embarrass you for his enjoyment is off limits.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

(I had a request for something like this so I'm going to elaborate here) He fucking LOVES to eat you out. It borders on obsession. Any chance he has to kneel down between your thighs or lay between them is time well spent. If you give him permission, he'd love to wake you up with his mouth. Take his sweet time licking and sucking and nibbling at your sweet cunt, listening to your sleepy whines as he pleasures you.

He'd never make you give him head or complain if you didn't want to. But if you do, he can't enough of the view. Your pretty eyes gazing up at him as you bob along his cock, mouth full as you moan around his cock. That's one of the view times he actually feels weak in the knees.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow, sensual, passionate. He can be rough sometimes, a sharp slap to your ass or pulling your hair as he thrusts into you. Bites and marks all over your neck and chest. But he isn't one to rail you at a fast pace. Sex is something he wants to take his time with and thoroughly enjoy.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's down for quickies. Stressed out at work, out at a bar, when he wants you he wants you. Pressed up against the wall in the bathroom, sitting on his desk in his office. He'll take the time to fuck you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He'd be willing to try some new things. Taking you in the patrol car has always been a fantasy of his. The risk of getting caught in public always gets him going.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina seems never ending, you're usually the one tapping out. He could go for 3 rounds easy, usually more. He has enough self control to hold back his own orgasm just to see you fall apart under him over and over.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have toys but if you did, he's down to try them out. Especially the vibrators. Holding one to your clit while he thrusts into you, overstimulating you for hours just to watch the mess you make.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases so much it's cruel. Sneaky touches when you're together that drive you crazy, like grabbing your ass or holding your thigh. He'll make you wait all day and then make you cum over and over, he loves to overstimulate you. See just how much you can take.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His voice and low and sexy as is, but his moans? That alone could get you wet. His deep grunts, gravely moans and groans, his panting.. He isn't shy about it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves when you flip and take charge of him. Cuff him and ride him, or cuff him to blow him. He trusts you to be in that vulnerable position.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Oh we KNOW it's big. Definitely girthy, 6-7 inches, slightly curved to the right. Just a lil.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Once he met you, sky high. He can't get nearly enough of you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He always waits to make sure you're asleep and cozy. Once you are, he's falling asleep an hour or so later.

#chicago pd x reader #chicago pd #hank voight x plus sized!reader #hank voight x reader #hank voight #chicago franchise

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random-blurbs · 5 months ago

Text

Deserving Of Love - prologue

part 1 >>>

The only thing that can ground you is your heartbeat. That’s the only thing in the world that reminds you that you are human.

Connections, emotions, they don’t compare to placing your hand over your chest. And feeling your heart beat in response. The thought of being anything else scares you. “Y/N?” Perking up at the voice you look up seeing an older man. Bald and barely holding onto some of his hair in the sides. He was looking at you cautiously as you took in your surroundings. The quiet whirring of the machines, the annoyingly bright white room. It smelled sterile to hell and back. “Where am I?” You finally asked as you winced feeling the oncoming headache. Along with another smell reaching your nose not knowing exactly what it was.He seemed like a leader with how he carried himself keeping you on edge. "Do you not remember anything?" He shared a look with his advisor, a kinder looking guy with glasses. "I'm supposed to be in class But..." Gritting your teeth you don't know where to go. You know you're supposed to be in classes but where do you even go? You go to a university but where? These thoughts are terrifying. "Wh-what am I going to do? I don't know what I'm supposed to do, where do I go?" Your breathing quickened as you realize you truly don't recall anything. Only your name, the fact that you're supposed to go to class, and... Looking down at your hands something felt off. "Ok let's calm down first and then we can help." Shaking your head you took a step back as he took one forward. "I don't know who the hell you are. My memories are all gone! Why can't I remember if I have anyone?" You're alive, you seem human enough that must mean you have someone out there concerned for your well-being, right? Any thought otherwise might hurt you more than you're willing to admit. "We can help you just have to trust us." He no longer got closer to you but just slowly put his hand towards you. A sign of agreement. Your eyes darted between the two as the guy with glasses encouraged you with a small nod as his director kept his hand there. It wasn't like you had any options you truly don't know what you can do. Biting your lip nervously you knew what you had to do. Finding the strength to put your hand forward to meet - your blood ran cold. Looking at the collar of his neck it was unmistakable as you recognized the smell now from earlier. It was blood. It happened too fast for everyone in the room as you stuck your hand forward with horror as the man in front of you was now kneeling. A feeling radiating through you towards the man as his yell of pain was all you could hear. "Sir!" To them it looks invisible, but you can the markers in the air as he's pushed down as he tries to get up. You were terrified as you put your other hand out towards the guy with glasses as he reached for his pocket. "Why do you have blood on you!" You yelled as your eyes darted around the room now hearing the blaring of alarms around you. "Stop holding me here and I'll tell you it's a misunderstanding!" He let out another grunt as you started to close your fist making him fall closer to the floor. "I don't know what I'm doing but I do know I can kill you. So tell me what the hell are you." You demanded hearing the doors open seeing so many different faces. They seemed shocked but quickly masked it preparing to fight. "Let him go!" A girl with a bob yelled out as you looked around the room what can help you. "Take one step closer I swear I'll kill him."

You pushed the guy with glasses towards them keeping the one in command with you. "Y/N this will go so much worse for you, just step down." You ignored him as your now free hand was directed towards them. Shaking your head you stood firm not giving an inch to them. They were unsure what to do as they didn't want to risk killing the guy who pays for their stuff, and yeah, their boss they guess. It was a quick blur that had you stumbling back and trigger the group to fall to their knees caught off guard. It's not as strong as of hold as the man's next to you but as you felt your heartbeat in your ears you knew you can hold them there as a new person was in front of you. "Hey hey hey! Let's just calm down here, okay?" Gritting your teeth these words have just been pissing you off. "Calm down? I don't know what the hell is happening!" You yelled. Your back was against the wall as you glared at the person in front of you. A guy in a yellow, blue, black suit with lenses hiding his eyes. "Cecil? You haven't told her anything?" The guy asked in disbelief as the man called Cecil gritted his teeth. "Just get me out of here. And like I told her we can talk." "She's obviously confused. You talking to her as if you're the president is going to scare anybody. Here let's do this." He was once floating in the air, but he finally touched the ground as he tried picking the right words. "Look I'm sorry we went about this wrong. If you want, you can push them out of the room and just three can talk." He motioned to the struggling team behind him as you gave him a dubious look. "Or just kick her ass my knees are hurting here!" Some guy who looked similar to a firefighter yelled out as you slowly started to close your hand in response. Hearing a yelp come out in exchange. "Ok! Let's not do that! Don't mind him he says stupid stuff without thinking just trust me." The only card you really need is Cecil considering he seems to be the one everyone wants to keep safe. Sighing you waved your hand throwing everyone out the room as they landed with a thud, keeping the door slammed shut. Hearing their grunts as they tried to reopen the door. "Did you lock it?" He asked as he was confused that was even possible. "No, I'm just keeping it shut I don't know how these doors work. But I'm willing to open them so you can leave." He shook his head immediately and he pointed out at the growing frustrated Cecil on the ground. "He's technically my boss so I can't really leave without him secured." "Then how are you guys going to let me go?" He seemed to give it a little bit more thought as he looked between you and Cecil. "What if I help her Cecil? Obviously, you're too mean to do it." As he motioned towards the predicament that he put himself in. "Do whatever you want just get me the hell out her hold." His words had you scared as it sounded like a command to hurt bringing your hand towards the man in front of you. But he made no indication of moving confusing you. "Look I'm not going to hurt you. I really do want to help you so just let him go." You shook your head immediately not liking this deal right off the bat. "What makes you think I can trust you? You're just like them." You tried explaining yourself. He's probably like the rest of them who are trying to hurt you to get to Cecil. To everyone else you look like some dangerous villain trying to kill the big boss of the GDA. But it only took 30 sends to see who you really were. Just a scared girl who didn't know what was happening. Your frantic eyes that darted to every inch of the room to see where you can hide. Not actually trying to hurt those in your hold as you just needed them to know you were serious in getting out. You were human before anything else. And you just needed someone to treat you like one. Sighing he took off his mask as you examined his features. "What? You think because you're cute or something I'm going to let him go?" You deadpanned as you see him flush with embarrassment as he quickly shook his head disagreeing with you.

"No no! I just thought if you saw who was trying to help you it might ease you a little!" He quickly explained not realizing how narcistic it could've looked. "It helped a little bit if you wanted to know..."

You mumbled wanting to ease his embarrassment a little as you acknowledged where it's coming from. Which did perk him up a lot more than you thought. "Oh, get me the hell out of this." Cecil muttered not wanting to be part of this wannabe teen romance. "I'm trying to help you man!" The guy said frustrated that he's not realizing what he's doing for him. "I might've forgotten my memories, but I know it's common sense to tell each other our names." You continued realizing how much you were craving this normalcy. "Oh, I'm sorry my name is Mark. Mark Grayson if you wanted the full name which I doubt you did but um there you go?" He awkwardly said as you chuckled making his eyes widen. If you ignored Cecil's pained expression pressed to the floor you looked like a normal girl. A cute normal girl. He seemed stunned for a second before he hit himself on the forehead stunning you and Cecil. "What the hell are you doing." He muttered to himself as he remembered that he has a beautiful smart girlfriend waiting for him. "Are you ok?" You asked carefully as it seemed like you were stuck in a room with someone who is hearing voices. He tried waving it off as he continued with you. "It's ok I'm just thinking...about my girlfriend...who is waiting for me." He awkwardly brought up as you understood the gist of what he's practically doing. "She's a lucky girl then." You said with an awkward tight-lipped smile. How the fuck did your day go like this? He seemed flustered as he quietly accepted the compliment. "You seem like a good guy Mark. So, I'm really trusting you with this." Before he can say anything, you moved your hand away from Cecil as he finally collapsed to the ground. A pit of guilt entered your chest as you hear him groan in pain. You kept him there forever as you looked if there's anything in the room that can help him. "You won't regret this. I'll be here to help you to get you started, if you want?" He reminded of your choice making you feel grateful for something so simple. "Thank you for this Mark. I'm truly grateful having you here it's just scary not remembering anything or anyone." You confided as your memories feel like they're locked up somewhere. Somewhere too far for you to currently reach. "I can help you try getting them back. We can start off small?" He asked as he put his hand out nervously as you smiled softly. Letting your hand envelop his warm hand he shook it softly lingering around your touch. It was quickly ruined as he tried looking at your now kind eyes before seeing the stern man right behind you. "Cecil wh-" Letting out a pained yell you stumbled into Mark's chest with a tight hold as you felt a stabbing pain on your lower back. It felt like fire was put into your body as you felt your vision get blurry. "Dammit Cecil what did you do?" You feel Mark's arms hold you protectively as you seem him look up at Cecil in anger. "She let you go!" Cecil shook his head as he looked down at you trying your hardest to stay awake as you tried moving your hand. "She's a danger and we need to get a hold of her and remind her what she can and can't do." Anger flared up in you as you tried your hardest staying awake but when you looked up at Mark's apologetic eyes. His eyebrows knitted in frustration you didn't feel like you had to doubt him. Hoping he would be there when you wake up you let your head fall against his chest as his quickened heartbeat lulled you into a pained sleep.

#writing #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #invincible show

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steviesmarigold · 4 months ago

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M’s Week on AO3

3/16/25

—

First Reads

Belated: 2.2k words

In the middle of the war, Steve has a birthday present for Bucky, one he never manages to give him. After the ice, after the Winter Soldier, when Bucky finally comes home, Steve tries again.

To the Marrow of Our Bones: 22k words

"I'm Grant," the guy said shyly. He had jet black hair with streaks of bright blue that brought out his eyes, even from behind his thick rimmed glasses. "I'm Captain America's assistant."

"Am I supposed to be meeting Captain America today? Because I am not prepared for that," Bucky said. He tried to play it off as a joke, but seriously, he would have found something nicer to wear if he'd known he was going to meet a national icon.

"Uh, it's only me," Grant said, biting his lip a little, just enough to show off the bright gold of his lip ring, and Bucky kinda wanted to help out with the whole biting thing, because Grant's lips were lush and pink and very biteable looking.

Let this be light work: 8.6k words

On the run with Sam and Natasha, Steve finds the words to describe his commitment to Bucky. As with most of Steve’s decisions, there are unintended consequences.

“It’s no use,” Natasha tells Sam. “You won’t get him to go out and flirt. Steve here’s a married man.”

They’re somewhere in Croatia, and Sam’s been hard at work, trying to pull Steve away from a busy night of sketching and staring at his phone. He wants to go out and drink plum brandy and dance with the locals.

“You should go without me,” Steve says, hazy. Married. A married man. Isn’t that something?

Let Them Eat Cake: 31k words

Steve picked up the piping bag and returned to the ramekins. Bucky left, though not without shooting one last look at Steve's wide back. Bucky could already tell Steve Rogers was trouble, not even counting the near-religious experiences he inspired among the staff. It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t appreciate him as well; he did. He just tended to appreciate people he found attractive from afar, because explaining the metal arm was hard, and because he didn’t really know how to handle letting someone in close.

But that wasn’t why Steve was trouble, not really.

Bucky wanted to know why their new pastry chef had gun calluses on his right hand.

******

Or the one where Bucky has settled in to his life as a sommelier, until Steve Rogers shows up at his restaurant.

The White Wolf of Wakanda: 30k words

The first time Steve visits Wakanda, Bucky plans it obsessively.

He picks neutral clothes, the ones Steve will expect, trims his beard and lets Shuri tie back his hair. He studies himself in the mirror for twenty minutes in her bathroom and pulls it back out again, then keeps staring until she yells something exasperated through the door about white boys and their vanity, and he puts himself together and goes down to the plaza and completely freezes when Steve gets out of the plane.

Cat Nap: 8k words

Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky’s problems. The balding agent he’d seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority.

Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back.

I just met you (and this is crazy): 41k words

After Steve gets outed by a grainy cell phone picture, it takes the media less than 24 hours to discover Captain America’s secret relationship with James Barnes: classical musician, teen heartthrob, and son of a former president.

The only problem? Steve has never met James Barnes in his life.

Express Yourself: 41k words

Bucky Barnes' recovery after decades of Hydra control was never going to be an easy journey, but Steve Rogers vowed to be there every step of the way. And with Bucky an Avenger, finally back on the same team once again, Steve began to notice a shift in Bucky's demeanour, in the way he interacted with people, his confidence growing; and it all somehow connected to Bucky’s…clothing?

Of all the ways for Bucky to heal - fashion was not what Steve expected. And he had never expected to find it so... appealing. It was probably not the normal way for someone to feel about their best friend. Unless - oh - he happened to be in love with them?

To Live It Again Is Past All Endeavor: 21k words

Time travel bodyswap! Present-day Steve and Bucky wake up back in their old bodies in 1938, while past Steve and Bucky wake in a future where they're both built like comic book heroes and Bucky's got what he thinks is a swell future robot arm. Adventures are had, and the ethics of time travel are debated. Also, everyone trash talks Willem de Kooning.

The Merry Wanderer of the Night: 17k words

It’s not aliens this time. Nor is it super-human villains with a bug up their ass or even remnants of Hyrda looking to take their asset back.

No, this time it’s something else. It seems, out of all the impossible, crazy, unbelievable things that he’s witnessed, that he’s been apart of, it can always get weirder.

Of course, in all of the places he’s been and all the people he’s come across, never in a million years would he have believed it would be faeries.

or: When the faeries try to take Steve, Bucky has to pass their test or lose Steve forever.

t’aimer sur les bords du lac: 17k words

Steve hadn’t expected Tony to leave him anything after his death, especially not something in the form of a cabin in the woods, across the lake from Pepper and Morgan.

What he also hadn’t expected was for Bucky to basically move in with him without much of a discussion. After everything they’ve been through, this might just be what they both desperately needed to realize there is no other place they need to be.

Re-Reads

dance with a ghost: 11k words

“Captain America is haunting me,” Bucky says over a bowl of ramen.

His pronouncement is met with a round of silence.

“Captain America,” Natasha says. “As in--”

“The first Avenger,” Bucky confirms. “Supersoldier and hero of World War II. The fabric of the American conscience.”

“But he’s--dead,” Sam says. His look of perplexed concern, ever perplexed and ever concerned, only increases. “You’re aware of that, right?”

“I know,” Bucky says. “That’s why I said he’s haunting me.”

Laying Down Bricks: 27k words

She sighed and shook her head, a small look like pity covering her face. "I am aware of the significance of Captain America to Americans, Barnes. But he has been compromised. SHIELD can't let a super soldier loose with someone else pulling his strings." She gestured with her gun.

OR, another soulmate AU. Bucky gets recruited by SHIELD to find the kidnapped body of Captain America. He's stalked by a mysterious man, gets blown up a bit, and is maybe a bit too cavalier.

Captain America Big Bang 2018 entry

Save a Horse, Ride a Captain: 2.7k words

Bucky tapped him on the shoulder, swaying back and forth a little as he waited for the man to turn around. “Hello,” he said, and then promptly forgot what else he was going to say, because this guy was fucking beautiful. “Wow. Good face.”

Two of the guy’s friends, a man wearing a suit that fit so well it had to be bespoke and a man with a cute little gap between his front teeth, started cracking up. The petite redhead sitting next to them cocked her head to the side and pulled her phone out of her handbag. Beautiful Face just looked kind of pained, so Bucky redirected. He was a gentleman. He could take a hint. No hitting on beautiful guys who were uncomfortable with that sort of thing, no matter how lickable their jawlines were.

“Hello,” he repeated, doing his best to mind his manners. “I’m very sorry to bother you. Can I have a piggy-back ride?”

Follow Me Home: 4.5k words

The Brooklyn SPCA has a running program for their high energy shelter dogs. Steve quickly becomes their #1 volunteer. Every time he's out with a dog, he thinks about stopping to talk to the cute guy in the park, and every time he chickens out. But today, someone else is making that decision for him. That someone is Engelbert the 80 pound boxer mix.

a question of worth: 30k words

Bucky can't explain to anyone how strange it is to wake up in Wakanda with five years gone in a blink, in a second. The last thing he remembers was trying to get to Steve, and then General Okoye is telling them—because it's not just Bucky, it's so many people—that five years have passed and the rest of the world went on without them.

He should be used to it, he supposes, but he had really thought that he was done sliding through time, finished missing years. He had promised himself—had promised Steve—after that last time in Wakanda to get rid of the trigger words that it would be the last time, that he wouldn't leave like that again. He had thought it was a promise he could keep.

~o~

In which Steve and Bucky return the Infinity Stones, and return to a world drastically changed from the one Bucky left five years ago, and Bucky has to struggle with the knowledge that his best friend held Mjölnir, and at least briefly had the power of a god. So where does that leave an ex-brainwashed assassin?

The Best Way to Wake: 42k words

James Buchanan Barnes lay in a glass pod in the middle of the table, frozen since he fell. Steve’s hands were on the glass before he realized he’d moved.

“Wait, Captain!”

“Get him out,” Steve whispered, his hands searching for a clasp, a keypad, something.

“Captain, we need to keep him in stasis—“

“I said get him out!”

In which Bucky Barnes lay frozen in the Alps for seventy years only to be woken up a year after Steve Rogers was uncovered from the Arctic.

(if only in my dreams): 45k words

Bucky’s eyes fall on a DM from a Twitter user that hasn’t ever interacted with his highly secret ‘model account’ — where, under the pseudonym ‘Winter,’ he teases and sells artistic photos of himself from the mouth down, in very naked and compromising positions — but one that he knows instantly. One that he knows well.

User @art_mad91. The dorkiest username in the world. A personal twitter account, with no real name attached to it, belonging to one Steven Grant Rogers.

Steve, Bucky’s best friend in the entire world, and the secret love of his life since they lost their virginities to each other when he was seventeen, just DMed Bucky on his porn account.

Shit.

Everyone is Supposed to be Dead: 22k words

“…there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is, except for the birds.”

In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic.

In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.E.I.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

Never Talk to Strangers: 40k words

Never Talk to Strangers: or; How a Forgotten Childhood Lesson Led Bucky Barnes to Appreciate Charlie Chaplin, Befriend an A.I., Slip on Soap Bubbles, Be Mistaken for a Succubus, and Try to Woo a Superhero.

There’s Something Out There (I Can Hear It Calling): 12k words

What if Steve died fighting the Winter Soldier.

What if he came back.

(A Winter Soldier/The Wraith (1986) AU)

#figured i might try out this rec method again #absolutely did not realize i read so much this week #no wonder i feel so behind in my classes #anyways #stucky fic recs #stucky #m’s week on ao3 #stevebucky fic recs

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fantasy-anatomy-analyst · 1 year ago

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hello! sorry to bother you but i am currently working on character designs for my next d&d campaign. i am creating a winged elf inspired by avariels, and he will have some form of physical disability which causes them to be unable to fly. however, i am not very educated about physical disabilities, so do you know any which might affect limbs such as wings and any ways i could portray life with them and accommodations for them in a respectful way? any tips are appreciated. thank you :)))

Wing disabilities are a bit harder to research than regular human limb disabilities, but you might be amused to learn that the very first thing i found upon a quick search for bird wing deformities was something called "angel wing", found in many different bird species. I've linked the article I found. It develops over time and can be corrected, but obviously when it happens in wild birds they have no means to fix it on their own and it becomes permanent.

Angel wing is a deformation of the wrist area, making it droop and then turn outwards. Once it's permanent, the crooked shape of the wing makes flight impossible. If a winged humanoid had this problem, they would need to worry about things like how far the crooked wing sticks out, maybe bracing it to alleviate chronic pain. I'm sure something like that would cause pain, even if it wasn't mentioned in the article. It may be helpful to clip the feathers on that part of the wing, so they're not in the way. Finding a comfortable sleep position may also be a bit tricky.

Other possible wing disabilities which I have not researched at all but sound like plausible congenital issues for people with wings:

- underdeveloped wings. They never get big enough for flight, maybe the feathers never grow in properly, possibly they're also shaped wrong for flight. Could come with chronic pain, weak muscles/atrophy, etc.

- missing wing. Somehow just didn't develop a wing, or developed a nub where the wing should be. Could also be missing just the "hand" part of the wing.

- general feather growth problems. Weak feathers, feathers that come in short, chronic molting that causes a lot of unhelpful bald patches, etc.

- chronic joint pain. Wings appear to be normal, but the joints hurt a lot and movement is difficult.

You can also go the route of disability by injury, having a wing broken or amputated or otherwise harmed in a way that is difficult or impossible to recover from.

Overall, the accommodations needed could include pain relief, a brace to keep the wing in a comfortable folded position, feather clipping, massages, etc. Mobitiy aids to let this character fly without the use of their wings is easy to handle in fantasy because you could give him an enchanted flying device of some sort. Magical prosthetic wing might work, but that depends on the disability you're working with and also wing prosthetics are pretty tricky. It would not be as functional as a real wing. If the wings are fully grown and intact, but the problem is something like joint pain, then a flight brace to steady the wings could be useful. They'd only be able to fly for short bursts though, probably. But it would be akin to giving someone leg braces so they can walk, while also having access to crutches or a wheelchair. You can work with your dm on figuring out what's allowed in the campaign setting.

As for being respectful in how you portray the character, I think the most important thing is to let them be a full person. The disability is obviously a major part of their life, but they ought to have more personality than that. Hobbies, interests, attitude.

They're also allowed to be sad about the disability, but this should not be their main defining trait. I think it is pretty normal to be sad that you have a physical difference preventing you from doing something other people can easily do. The problem in fictional characters who are sad about their disabilities is that it often becomes Their Entire Thing and then the character arc is either "so I became evil about it" or "and then they died" or "but there was a magical perfect fix!" all of which obviously don't respect the reality of being disabled. But making them totally happy go lucky about it also doesn't work. So you just need the middle area there, as that's the most realistic one. How does it feel to have a permanent disability? Well, it ends up feeling pretty normal when you're used to it. Sometimes it sucks a lot. Sometimes you hardly pay attention to it. Focus on making your character emotionally varied and give them an interesting personality that makes their interactions with other characters more fun.

Roleplay games are great for that, because you'll have to mesh with the group and really flesh out your character relationships as you go.

Anyway I hope that was all helpful! No illustrations to show, because I'm sleepy today. But good luck with your character! And maybe go check out @cripplecharacters for extra advice on generalized disability rep if you haven't already!

#fantasy disabilities #disability in fantasy #winged humanoid

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gofancyninjaworld · 2 months ago

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Only the funny ones matter

Consider this meta for Chapter 201.

I half joke that only the joke predictions come to pass.

I was looking through my old Tumblr posts (can't remember what I was looking for, something about Saitama and cats) and found one in which I was commenting on the change of emphasis between original and redraw. The chapter in question was chapter 120, 'The Only Thing is Strength', and in the published version, Genos was less explicitly inspirational than he'd originally been portrayed. Back then, I'd quipped that with all that he would go ont to do (the redraw came after chapter 155 was out), he'd otherwise be like a cyborg John the Baptist to Saitama's Bald Jesus [Link].

How little I knew!

When Genos said that he needed to let the people who needed to know know about Saitama, I'd thought he meant to remind Saitama of what the latter had actually done. Oh no, he wasn't joking!

Hoo boy, when it comes to preparing the way for his master, Genos did not slack off!

He spoke to the secret gathering that Sitch convened to discuss the looking God (no ID) problem, and while they publicly doubted him, they did ponder on his words.

Now, now, no need to be cross: you have kept them for four hours so it's natural they're a little sarky. They did listen, promise!

Normally, stories in which a character proposes a sensible action with the potential to greatly hasten a story's resolution (like Genos's proposal that Saitama be called if Blast appeared), never see that suggestion come to fruition. But here we are, with Blast not only meeting Saitama, but doubling back to consult with him, just as Genos suggested he do.

To be fair to Blast, he did tell Genos that he'd consider consulting Saitama. He's just very honest (also totally out of leads as to where Sonic might be).

The latest chapter makes it clear that Blast is legitimately a very busy man who cannot afford to be away from his post long. He and Sitch must have been at least a little curious about Saitama to spend so much precious time visiting Saitama's apartment. I know Flash would like to think that it's because his origin story is that fascinating, but Blast knows all about ninjas and their fratricidal ways. He is, in fact, sick of ninjas and their schemes.

As good a pretext as any to see what this bald guy is like.

Well, now Blast has met Saitama. He has seen the latter apprehend Void with ease, and keep the Tenninto in check. Now, he's in prime position to see what Saitama does about rude, fire-breathing pets.

I'm here for an epic str-- oh, never mind.

The horse has well and truly been led to the water. Will it have the nous to drink? That's the question we have regarding what Blast will make of Saitama.

I'm very keen to see what the next chapter brings.

#One Punch Man #meta #Genos #Saitama #Blast #Sicchi #Flashy Flash #ninjas #when Genos decided to tell the people who mattered he really went for it #and damn... it WORKED!#the only question is that does Blast realise just how useful and powerful an ally Saitama is #and what will he do about it?

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byunejoo · 1 year ago

Text

&team legal line and … their hair preference

alternative title are they clean shaven or not? what do they like on their partner?

pairing &team legal line x fem reader

contents mentions of body hair, pubic hair, waxing, shaving, trimming, and the lack thereof

notes body hair is natural and nothing to be ashamed of. these are preferences, however nobody can tell you what to do with your hair except yourself. these are my headcanons, please do not take these as facts.

koga yudai 𐦍 케이

k really prefers to wax himself bare. he tried it once and never looked back; it just saves him so much hassle. he prefers to keep his body hair neat, so now instead of taking time to trim frequently, he goes to a waxing salon for about 30 minutes every 3-4 weeks for a clean up.

he doesn’t mind what you choose to do with your hair, just as long as it doesn’t get in the way of what he’s doing. k is really big on giving oral, so i think as long as he can get it out of the way when he’s doing his thing, he doesn’t have that much of an opinion.

murata fuma 𐦍 후마

fuma gives me massive natural vibes. it’s not entirely left alone, he does still trim it when it gets too long, but other than that it’s left alone. i think on a good day he might would even leave his happy trail alone.

on you, he prefers the same, i think. something natural but still well-maintained and clean. he, for lack of better words, likes the bush look. as long as you’re happy with it, that is.

nicholas wang 𐦍 니코라스

with nicholas, there’s no telling what you’ll get on any given day. sometimes you pull his pants down and he’s got a full bush, other times he’s shaved clean and everything in between. it just depends on his mood that day.

with you, he says he likes when you have it trimmed closely. so it doesn’t tickle his face when he’s between your legs or you sit on his face, he says. he likes the look of a bush, but he doesn’t like the tickle of it and he loves eating you out. so he likes a small hedge per se.

byun euijoo 𐦍 의주

i believe euijoo doesn’t really care much about shaving, but he will do it. every once in a while he will get a close trim, but otherwise let’s it go natural between. however, he probably likes for his balls of all things to be smooth. that’s one thing he will keep up with.

he’s the type to not really have much of an opinion about your hair, but he would probably like the occasional fun shape. if you were to go to the waxing salon and get a little heart shape or triangle shaped patch of hair left behind on your pubic bone, he would think it’s so cute.

nakakita yuma 𐦍 유마

with yuma, i think he’s fairly simple. he would clean up the hair underneath, on his balls, but would leave the hair on his pubic bone mostly untouched. as long as it doesn’t get too long, then he’ll trim it back a little.

he prefers the same on you. he doesn’t care much for you being completely bald — clean up a little and leave the rest alone. it’s a nice balance between shaven and unshaven. the best of both worlds, if you will.

asakura jo 𐦍 죠

jo most definitely has a full bush. no questions about it. he really can’t be bothered with the upkeep, so unless you directly ask him to do something with it, i don’t think he would. probably had every intention of doing so one time but was scared he’d cut his balls off on accident LMAO

same thing with you, he doesn’t care. he’s really just happy to be involved. he doesn’t mind if you rock a full bush; in fact, it might would help him feel better about his own. that’s not to say he’d be particularly upset if you did to choose to shave, because he wouldn’t be. it’s your choice, after all!

#&team smut #andteam smut #&team hard hours #&team hard thoughts #andteam hard hours #andteam hard thoughts #&team k smut #&team fuma smut #&team nicholas smut #&team ej smut #&team yuma smut #&team jo smut #koga yudai smut #murata fuma smut #nicholas wang smut #wang yixiang smut #byun euijoo smut #nakakita yuma smut #asakura jo smut

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daydreamgoddess14 · 2 years ago

Text

Red Card

MASTERLIST

Roy Kent x F!Reader

It's the first time in 135 years that the Premier League has allowed a female referee to official a match... Remaining neutral is absolutely key. Plenty of fluff and smut and flirting 😏

The anticipation was at a whole different level. For the first time in history, a woman would referee a Premier League football game. The FA had played a blinder from a marketing perspective - a local girl from Richmond itself - refereeing a Richmond vs. Man City match - the top two finishing teams of the previous season. Sky Sports, BT Sport, Match of the Day, ESPN… every single football broadcaster or news outlet was on site. It couldn’t get any more high profile. It had been all anyone had talked about for weeks on end. Roy was sick of hearing about it, talking about it, and reading about it.

“New Trent?”

“What do you think about a woma-”

“Reffing the next match? It’s about fucking time. Should have been done years ago. The league might be saying all the right things and making a big deal out of it, but it’s only disguising the fact that they haven’t bothered utilising female referees until now.”

“And what do you think of the referee chosen for the match?”

“Did I offer you a fucking follow up, New Trent? She’s a fantastic ref, and has a great eye. I’ve seen her run some lower league matches and it’s high time she had a role in the Prem.” He looked around for his next victim, “You with the… bald spot?”

“And will you be saying the same thing if she books one of the lads next week or a decision doesn’t go your way?”

“Course I fucking will. I don’t suddenly change my opinion of any of the other refs? We’ve all got jobs to do and roles to play. I don’t think we can ask for anything more than for any of the referees to be fair and equal. I don’t give a shit who we’re on about, that applies to all of them.” He looks around for any other burning questions, “Right, fuck off then you lot. I’m done for the day.” He rose from the desk and left the bustle of the press conference. In the office, Beard and Nate were looking over plans for the next week while the team milled around the gym and treatment rooms.

“Tough presser?” Beard asked.

“No more than fucking usual. All anyone is talking about is the new-”

“Female ref? The news is everywhere. As if the match wasn’t high profile enough as it is.” Nate filled in, a bundle of nervous energy.

“Yeah, well we’ll be fine. Just gotta make sure the boys keep their heads down. The new ref isn’t their problem, they don’t need to even be thinking about that.”

“But they will, because that’s all they’re hearing about. We haven’t had this much press coverage for ages, the match sold out months ago. They may not have to think about her, but the whole situation does impact their whole build up to the game.” Beard declared.

“Right, get ‘em in here.” Roy grimaced. Nate dashed off to assemble the team. “Alright lads?” There were a few murmurs and replies. “I know there’s a lot of noise around this one - some of it is to do with us and the City game, some of it is none of our business. I suggest you steer clear of the news for a few fucking days. There’s no need to watch it at all. No Twatter or whatever you fucking use. Just stay off that shit for the rest of the week, yeah? Any news you need, you hear from us. I want to keep the positivity we’ve got for the new ref, so if you’re asked about it by the paps on the car park, be fucking nice. Otherwise, you don’t watch or listen to all of the fucking fuss about the weekend, alright?”

“Coach.” Isaac nodded in agreement, the other players followed his lead.

~~~~~~~

The noise was deafening, the stadium packed to the rafters. You hovered at the side of the pitch with the other officials, warming up until it was time for the meet and greet of the team managers. The two managers were like fucking titans of football royalty. You were about to meet Pep Guardiola for god sake. And if you even think for one second about meeting Roy Kent, you might just pee your pants. Pep is great, wonderful - the boss! But you grew up not twenty minutes down the road, so Roy is firstly, the literal definition of local hero, and secondly, the big crush of your early 20s. You spent many Euro Championships and World Cups in the pub singing his chant and ogling his legs. Fortunately when the Premier League and media ask about your neutrality, they don’t ask whether you’ve experienced sexual fantasies about any of the players or managers. At least you’d only be admitting that about one person and not, like, a whole team. And you would never admit it publicly. The home crowd roars as the Richmond team is announced, you make your way to the space between the two dugouts ready to greet the players. They all shake your hand as they pass you, with a few nods of encouragement and words of support. The same applies to the Man City team, you’re determined not to be starstruck in front of Pep Guardiola so you shake his hand with a big smile and wish his team luck. You turn to Roy Kent and his large hang engulfs yours. You whack on your big smile and offer the same affirmation as you did to Pep. On the pitch, you speak momentarily with the two captains and blow your whistle for go time.

The trouble with Premier League football is just that, it's Premier League. Top flight. The best of the best. Keeping pace with these players was a job in itself, being in the action without impacting it or getting in the way was another, and being the all seeing, all knowing one was… yet another. Your mind (and body) are pulled from goalpost to goalpost, and it's really no surprise that the referee is often blamed for poor decisions. It's impossible to see every single thing that happens on the pitch. You're making good decisions so far, nothing out of the ordinary. Shortly before halftime, one of the Richmond defenders nearly dislocates his shoulder, going in hard on Haaland. It feels cruel to punish him, but it's part of the job, so you have to award Man City the free kick. From the other side of the pitch, you can hear Roy Kent over the sound of 60,000 people screaming the same thing. Haaland scores, of course. You hang back while the teams leave the pitch at halftime, but he's waiting for you in the tunnel.

"The fuck did you give a free kick for?!"

"You shouldn't be collaring me out here, but to answer your question, the tackle was too much."

"Bullshit, it was a fair tackle and McAdoo would have hurt himself more than Haaland."

"Bullshit. Haaland has got about 5 inches and half a stone on McAdoo."

"5 inches is fucking nothing." He smirks.

"Really?” You arch an eyebrow at him, “did you seriously choose today to make a dick joke?" Utter disbelief is written all over your face, you shake your head and leave him cursing himself in the tunnel. Halftime was supposed to be a moment to catch your breath, not waste it on fighting with Roy Kent. You knew better than to get into it with managers. They saw the action from the sidelines and only had so much impact and influence. They took their lack of control out on officials all the time, it was supposed to be your job to stay calm and walk away, not engage. You ignore him on your way back to the pitch, he's just inside the exit of the tunnel and he could be there to apologise but he could very much be there to shout at you some more. The second half is just as eventful, Richmond are pushing hard for at least an equaliser, and Man City are loath to let them get it. When Obisanya has a shot on goal, which goes wide, City are pleading for a goal kick, but it's not. You award the corner, and Rojas sweeps a beautiful pass into Tartt, who sends the ball straight into the corner of the net. City scores again shortly afterwards, and you have to keep your head to make sure no one is deliberately trying to cause injury to anyone else. When Tartt goes down just outside the area, you request VAR footage to aid your decision before calling for a free kick. He scores, but it's an immediate offside and Roy Kent looks like he might explode. When play resumes, Colin Hughes gets a goal straight away. The game ends in a 2-2 draw, but the fans and teams both seem appeased.

~~~~~

By the time the press conferences are over, Roy's had more than enough. He (respectfully) disagreed with your first free kick decision, but praised your other choices and overall declared you "No better or worse than the other pricks." The stadium is starting to clear, and the Man City bus has just left. Richmond players make plans to get food at Ola’s. When Roy sees two of the officials only just leaving, he sends the others ahead and makes his way down to the away team and visitors facilities.

“I hope you’re here to apologise.” She states dryly as he approaches.

“Yeah,” he looks bashful, “the dick joke was a dick move. Sorry.” She looks so serious, he’s not sure the apology is accepted until he spies a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“Was pretty funny. In alternative circumstances.”

“Noted. Congratulations anyway, noise from the press has all been good so far.”

“Nice to know my performance will be scrutinised forever while every mediocre male referee gets a pass for another week.”

“I’m sure your performance will only improve.” He inwardly groaned. She was going to laugh in his face. A dick joke and then godawful flirting? It was only what he deserved.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll pass that direct quote on to The Sun.”

“They’ll have a fucking field day. Richmond manager does shit job at flirting with the only female ref in the league? They’ll probably go and interview the poor woman I called my girlfriend when we were in year 6.”

“Flirting?”

“No,” he scoffed, “no, course not. I didn’t mean that. Just a joke.” You cocked your head at him,

“Should we start again? Hi, you must be Roy Kent, I’m the first female referee in a Premier League game in 31 years. Well, actually it’s more like 135 years but the FA are trying to make themselves look marginally better.”

“Nice to meet you. Great job on the match, I respectfully, completely, disagree with that fucking free kick in the first half but other than that… no complaints.” He steps closer, you’re showered and changed but he can still smell the fresh grass mingling with the citrus and spice of the products you use. The combination is incredible - like summer and sunshine.

“I wouldn’t give a shit if you did have any complaints. Looking after your feelings isn’t in my job description.” You take in his height, broad shoulders and dark eyes and the long dormant crush rises to the surface immediately. You hadn’t taken much notice since you stopped having posters on your walls all those years ago, you’d only caught a few of his appearances as a pundit. He’s gorgeous, despite his surly appearance there’s an unmistakable twinkle of mischief in his eyes. Like he’s having fun with whatever this tension is that bubbles between you. And when he does smile at your commitment to fairness, it takes your breath away.

“Good to know the FA can rely on you staying neutral then.” He says quietly. Anticipation crackles in the air and fizzes in your stomach. You match his playfulness in your response, and step into his personal space,

“I don’t think there’s anything here that could sway me to any team in particular.” You smile, “not yet, anyway.” He waits until you’ve definitely left the room before he lets go of the breath he’s been holding.

~~~~~

You’re dragged out by your friends to celebrate that night, even though your legs ache like you’ve done a 10km run. It wasn’t so much the running, you specifically trained for that, it’s the constant change in direction and the intensity of having your attention focused on so many things at once. If the FA thought they could throw you under a bus by giving you such a high profile game, you’re pleased you proved them wrong. The bar is crowded and noisy and you’ve already spotted a couple of the Richmond players - it was bound to happen in a relatively small town if they couldn’t be bothered to go right into the city. You’re at the bar ordering when you feel a hand on your hip and someone standing very closely behind you, a hand raises above you holding a credit card, and gestures to the barman. You’re about to lose your shit when you hear his voice rumble behind you,

“I’ve got these, mate.” He steps to your side when the person next to you moves, but his hand lingers, “I hope buying you a drink doesn’t make you question your bias?”

“Not at all, I’m afraid you’d have to work much harder than that.” He looks even better than he did a few hours ago, desire coils inside you and you instinctively draw your thighs together. It doesn’t help when he noticeably looks at your mouth, red lipstick is your ‘go to’ for a night out.

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Your drink is put on the bar next to you and you lick your lips before taking a sip. Neither of you has broken eye contact. You hear your name from a few feet away at the edge of the dance floor.

“Excuse me,” you raise your glass to him, “thank you for the drink.”

“Bruv, is that the ref from today?” Isaac steps up beside him.

“Yeah, yeah that’s her.”

“She’s fit. You gonna ask her out?”

“Dunno Isaac, bit fucking old for that shit now.”

“Nah man, I just seen the way she looked at you-” he shakes Roy’s shoulder, “ooooh! Get it boy!” Roy rolls his eyes and smirks, watching you get dragged to the dance floor. He knows he must be old because he’s only been standing pitchside for the match and wouldn’t be caught dancing. You’ve run your legs off and then still managed to get them into that sequined mini skirt and up dancing. You can feel his eyes on you but you’d rather keep your back to him and try and carry on as casually as you can, if you turn around you know you won’t be able to stop staring. At least with your back to him, you can ignore him. Plus you know your arse looks great in this skirt, it was literally the sole reason for buying it in the first place. With all the running and training you do, you’re conscious of your strong thighs and hips but sometimes, just sometimes, they make you feel powerful. Eventually, you have to duck out of the dancing - mimicking a timeout to your friends. Roy is exactly where you left him at the bar and the alcohol makes you bold. You squeeze back in next to him and take a sip of his drink, yours is long finished.

“Help yourself.” He smirks, his hand moving to your hip again, hidden by the darkness of the bar. You put a hand on his thigh and lean in slightly, taking some of the pressure off your feet. You’re close enough that he can see your breath hitch as his thumb finds a patch of exposed skin at the waistband of your skirt.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You ask quickly, pushing your nerves down. He nods and finishes most of his drink, offering the last of it to you. Outside, word has gotten out that half a football team is at the bar and everyone is out for a glimpse of Jamie Tartt. You push past the photographers with Roy’s hand at the small of your back and into a nearby taxi.

~~~~~

“Please tell me there aren’t any fucking rules about this,” Roy mumbles somewhere in the valley between your breasts.

“I have no fucking clue, and I don’t really care right now.” You gasp, breathless as he leaves a mark on your soft skin.

“No? No danger of a red card?” You laugh and it’s musical and magical and neither of you have had this much fun in ages.

“No red cards for Roy Kent. Probably makes a fucking change.”

“Oi, cheeky. I never got that many.” He’s moved down again, unzipped your skirt and thrown it behind him somewhere.

“Fucking liar. They literally use you as an example of trouble players. Oh, fuck-” he bites your thigh.

“A good example or bad example?” His tongue sweeps over your clit and you nearly rocket off the bed until he hooks his arms over your thighs and pulls you back down to him.

“Oh god, bad example,” You feel him hum against you as he works you to your peak,

“Shame, I’m a changed man.”

“Uhuh, ok,” you whisper, unable to think or speak any more coherently.

“How's your neutrality holding up?” Your hands tangle in his hair,

“Fuckkk, sooo good.”

“I’ll have to fucking try harder then,” he chuckles. You’re about to beg for mercy when he pushes two fingers into you and curls them to just the right angle that has you seeing stars. When he comes back up to kiss you, you rock your hips against his and he helps roll you both over, sitting up so he can still kiss you. His kisses are rough and needy, making you grind down against him. When you nip his neck, he pulls gently at your loose hair, whimpering and god, you’d do anything, anything to have him make that sound again. It only makes you rock harder against him, desperate to feel him inside you. When he finally pushes into you, your body clenches. You rise and fall onto him over and over, grateful for those powerful thighs he can’t keep his hands off. When he brings a hand between you both and circles your clit, you drop your head into the crook of his neck and bite down to stifle your moan. You feel his hips stutter under you as you both come, making you drop your own rhythm. You collapse in a tangle of limbs and sheets against him.

“If you ask me again if you’ve swayed me yet, I’ll bite you.”

“You’ve already fucking done that,” he laughs. “Still need to try harder?”

“Hmm, there’s no harm in trying again. You might win me over.”

“And over and over?” He kisses you again, so slowly it’s intoxicating.

When you wake in the morning, it’s to the sound of his phone ringing. He tears himself away from where he’s curled behind you, the length of his legs against yours, his chest against your back and his arms around you.

“Yeah,” his voice is low and rough with sleep and it’s enough to have you roll over and press your body back into his. You can’t hear the other person, but he hangs up quickly and opens a link they’ve sent. It’s a picture on Twitter of the two of you leaving the bar together with his hand on your lower back with the headline “RED CARD FOR KENT?”

“Told you you were fucking trouble.” You laugh.

FIN

#roy kent #roy kent fluff #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent smut #roy kent imagine

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tigergirltail · 9 months ago

Text

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 6 - MONTH 6 - THE CAGED BIRD

CONTENT WARNING - This chapter contains mentions of medical injections, bigotry, child abuse, self-harm, and attempted suicide. Reader beware.

FIRST - PREV - NEXT

I had my six-month check-up with Dr. Erian, an online appointment just like last time. No particular medical issues this time around, bloodwork checks out, genetic reconfiguration is stable. We can't do a thorough physical exam over the internet, but according to him, I am "the very picture of health, by the standards of your species". I'm a bit curious what standards those are, given that I have yet to hear about any other tiger therians. Hopefully there ARE standards, and he's not just giving me empty reassurance.

We also spent some time going over dietary concerns - am I getting enough meat, am I reducing my fruit and grain intake appropriately, that sort of thing. I assured him that I'm eating real meat with every meal, just like the booklet said to, I've been limiting fruits and vegetables, and I don't even have an appetite for anything grain-based. I'll probably miss what fresh bread used to be like, but I just can't bring myself to want it anymore. Apparently not every therian is following the diet they're supposed to, but the doctor didn't have any concerns about me, "assuming your answers are honest, Miss Alexis". What, does he think I'm about to lie to the one person who knows how species transition works?

At one point during the discussion I thought I heard him mutter something about a "foolish undine", but I must have misheard. Undines are water spirits or elementals or something - a fictional creature. Then again, so are dragons and lamias, but the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl, and I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia. At this point you could tell me there's someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog, and I might actually believe you.

I've hit the point of full fur coverage, so no more awkward bald patches! Unfortunately, this does mean I need to start taking my estrogen in a form other than skin patches, because there's nowhere left to stick them. After a lot of agonizing over the pros and cons of potential liver damage from pills versus facing down my needle phobia, I opted to ask my endocrinologist to train me on injectable estrogen. She made a somewhat tone-deaf joke about not being trained in veterinary medicine, but she was otherwise very patient and reassuring, so I let it slide.

I do want to state for the record that I am a big scary tiger who's not afraid of anything and I only cried a little bit the first time I injected myself.

My ears are definitely becoming much more sensitive - I keep hearing really annoying high-pitch noises when I'm around heavy machinery, and that happens a lot more often than you might think. My office at work is right next to an elevator, and whenever someone uses it, the motor lets out this gods-awful whine and I have to plug my ears until it stops moving again. My local grocery also has a few freezer units that give off a similar sound, constantly, and I've had to start wearing earplugs to go on food runs.

As for visual changes, I can see in the dark reasonably well, but I've also started getting headaches and discomfort when I squint or try too hard to focus on something. I guess I should probably just… try to not do that. I have spent a significant portion of my life staring at a screen, so my eyes probably aren't in the best shape overall.

Now that my physical changes are pretty much done, most people just assume I'm wearing a very intricate costume - at least, until they get close. No costume has mouth movements or facial expressions this realistic, and believe me, our top furry scientists and engineers have tried.

At one point there's a conversation on the humanity removal chat server about the political climates in our respective areas towards therians. Obviously, a lot of the right-wing talking-head shows have been shitting themselves inside-out about the idea of people giving up their humanity, especially the ones with a more religious bent. "How dare these freaks forsake God's holy image", "Humanity is a divine blessing and must be cherished", "We call on the one true God to smite these worshippers of the Beast", and so on like that. Excuse you, but I've never worshipped your discriminatory god and I'm not beholden to their 'holy image'. My goddess is one of beauty, love, and artistic expression, and the entire reason I'm changing myself in the first place is as an expression of self-love.

Most of us agree, though, that the absolute worst of the 24-hour news cycle doesn't have anything to do with how regular everyday people see us. In fact, we're rare enough still that a decent proportion of people don't believe we exist - they think that tabloids made us up to sell more copies. I don't know if that's better in terms of acceptance, but I'll take it over a torch-and-pitchfork mob running me out of town.

The conversation shifts to us sharing our locations, those of us who are comfortable doing so at least. We generally keep it vague, but most of us are at least alright with saying which country we live in. I narrow it down to a province for myself, mainly because my province alone is larger than some countries, but also because once we start to get noticed by the media and the world, there'll probably be no stopping our locations becoming known.

It's also going to get interesting if anyone starts asking how most of us are going to the same medical provider when he requires that consultations be done in person, or why the location he operates out of - Hyper City - doesn't appear on any map. Truthfully, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself.

The next day, I get a private message from the girl with the corvid avatar:

"Hey I saw your post when everybody was talking about where they are! I live there too!! We should totally meet up sometime ^v^"

…This is a dilemma. Obviously, I'm worried about the optics of a teenager meeting up with a 39-year-old she met on the internet, there's all kinds of ways that could be taken the wrong way, but dammit, I still don't know anyone like me in this part of the world, who knows if I'll ever find anyone else who's local? …I really want to try, but I should at least give her a warning, and a judgement-free out.

"Uhh I get wanting to meet up, but I'm more than 20 years older than you, would your parents be anywhere near cool with that??"

There's a long pause. I see her start and stop typing multiple times. I'm worried I've upset her. Eventually, she sends another message:

"I don't give a fuck what they think"

I'm taken aback by the harshness of the reply, and don't manage to type anything before another series of messages pops up:

"and they don't care what I do anyway so it's whatever" "if anyone asks I'll just say you're my weird aunt" "you have no idea how bad I want to meet someone who GETS IT" "humanity is a curse and I want to be free"

'I want to be free'. Something about that phrase hits somewhere deep, in a source of pain that never fully healed. Freedom from pain, freedom from self-hatred, freedom at any cost, even if it meant my life. I remember how that desire for freedom feels.

The only thing I can think to do next is ask if she's okay. Her response is to ask if I can go on a voice call. I'm not sure if she wants some confirmation that I'm a real person or if she just doesn't want the next part of the conversation preserved in the text log.

"Hey…", I begin cautiously as the voice call starts. "Can you hear me okay?"

There's a suppressed sniffle on the other end. "Yeah… I hear you."

For a moment I entertain the thought of going all 'when I was your age' and explaining that I was always cautioned against talking to strangers on the internet, but it's probably not the time for that. Read the room, Alexis.

She's not saying anything. I'm going to have to start this off, I think. Something harmless, something value-neutral…

"So from your icon, I'm guessing you want crow HRT? Raven HRT, maybe?"

"Crow HRT.", she states simply. "Crows are everywhere here, and I've always loved them, always been jealous of them. They get to go anywhere they want, do anything they want…" She lets out a groaning sigh. "Augh, this is stupid. You probably think I'm stupid for wanting this."

I can't hold back from giving a little bit of a laugh. "Hah! Young lady, one year ago I went to a doctor and told him to his face that I wanted him to turn me into a recessive-gene variant of an endangered species that doesn't even live on this continent, and then I threatened to bite him if he wouldn't do it. Fantasizing about being a crow is just about the normalest thing I can imagine compared to that."

"…You said you'd BITE him?"

I grin, though without a camera set up she can't see it. "Every one of us who seeks out humanity removal therapy is already a little bit inhuman, even if we don't fully know it yet. After all, why would we remove something if we felt emotionally attached to it?"

Another audible sniffle. "Holy fuck, you DO get it…"

"I sure hope I get it, it's not like I can un-grow the fur and the tail."

She gives a laugh, then there's a long pause. "…Does it hurt? Is it scary?"

"Sometimes. My fingers were REALLY sore while my claws were developing, and having your entire facial structure rearrange is no joke. As for scary, well, I sure get stared at a lot more, but I think I scare people a lot more than they scare me."

"Heh, maybe I want to be scary."

I frown a little. "I don't. I just want to be true to myself."

There's an awkward silence. After a while, I decide to bring up something I was curious about:

"So I remember you asking if there was a way to get species HRT without your parents noticing. I'm guessing they're not exactly supportive?"

She lets out an uncomfortable groan. "Mmmngh… They watch a lot of those news shows, you know, the ones that only run angry sensationalist bullcrap? Dad gets furious at the idea of anyone changing themselves, something about the 'holy sanctity of the human body' or whatever. He even thinks tattoos are blasphemy. Mom says it's the most horrific thing she can imagine, she nearly fainted when she caught me watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes."

"And here you are, wanting to be a bird… I'm sorry, that sounds really rough."

"It… It is." I can hear her voice faltering. "Hearing nothing but how terrible a waste it is, and how awful and horrific they are, and the whole time knowing that I'd give ANYTHING for it to happen to me, I just… I'm sorry, I just…"

"Hey, you don't need to apologize… I'm not going anywhere."

"I just… don't know how much longer I can take it!"

"…Take what?" I'm afraid to ask my next question, but… I just have to. "…What are they doing to you??"

Somewhere deep inside her, the dam just… breaks. She starts sobbing as she tells me about how her parents yell at her over every single mistake, how she gets shoved or hit just for being in the way, how she hurts herself just so the pain gives her something to feel and to focus on, and how she… How she once climbed up to the roof of her building and took a flying leap off. She had every intention to end her own life, but in the moment her feet left the ground and she felt the air under her arms, she experienced a rush of euphoria, for the first time she can remember.

…And a moment later, she broke a leg and several ribs when she hit the ground.

She explains that she spent over a month in hospital, a captive audience for her parents to yell at more, when they even bothered to show up at all. I'm too stunned to even react.

She's spent the years since then chasing that high, climbing trees and jumping off, finding rooftops and hilltops to go stand in the wind, looking up online videos of parachuting and wingsuiting and hang gliding, and when she first heard rumours about medical treatments that can alter one's very species, she started frantically researching. That's how she started finding other therians to reach out to, how she got involved in the group chat.

"Have you… had an appointment with Dr. Erian yet?" I have a feeling I already know the answer - something something, 'letter from a physician, two psychologists, live as your preferred species for at least a year'. The same horseshit I had to listen to.

"No… I tried to get one, but he won't see anyone under 18 without parental consent, and fat chance of ever getting that."

Huh. I hadn't expected that, it feels surprisingly principled for him. Though at the end of the day, it's probably just another liability thing - ol' Teddy Erian covering his own ass as usual.

"I just…" She's started crying again. "I just want to turn into a beautiful black bird and fly away from all this, forever… I just want to live my life on the wind, going wherever I want, never having to see a single human again…"

I can feel my own tears welling up, and that's the moment I make my decision. I'm going to meet up with this girl, and I'm going to find a way to help her. Maybe she doesn't need humanity removal, maybe she just needs to know someone who understands.

We decide on a place and time to meet up. There's a little cafe I like nearby, run by a trio of neurodivergent queer women. It's a public place, and about as safe for weirdos like us as you can get. Corvid-girl tells me she'll be the one with a feathered headband and a crow-skull necklace. I tell her I'll be the one with white fur and a tail. That manages to get a laugh out of her. I choose to take that as a victory.

There's something about the way she laughs that sounds a bit like a crow's call. I wonder whether that's intentional on her part…

A few days later, I'm sitting in the cafe enjoying a hot chocolate and a roast beef sandwich - extra meat, naturally. Dr. Erian said I have to start cutting chocolate out of my diet because cocoa is going to become toxic to me, but… chocolate! I did ask for a lighter mix though, so what I'm drinking is actually mostly just hot milk. Maybe there's a cocoa-free substitute out there I can look into…

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by a squeal of delight emanating from the front door. There's a teenage girl standing there, staring directly at me with a look of amazement on her face. Dark clothes, pale skin, black hair, headband with feathers in it, and hanging from her neck, an amulet in the shape of a bird skull. I smile and wave a paw at her. She practically bounces as she walks up to my table and takes a seat.

"Holy SHIT, you're… And you even have the… Your face looks just like… Can I touch your paw??"

I laugh and hold out my paw. "Haha, sure, just watch out for the claws, they don't stay all the way inside just yet."

"Oh, it's okay, I'm used to sharp things!"

I wince as I think back to our voice chat from the other day. I REALLY hope she doesn't mean what I think she means, but I can't help noticing she's wearing long sleeves, even though the weather has been getting warmer.

She turns my paw over and squeals. "OHMYGOD you even have the BEEEEANS!" I can't resist smiling as she starts poking and prodding at my pawpads. "You look SO!! AMAZING!!"

Corvid-girl starts frantically complimenting all my animalistic features - "Your stripes are so pretty!" "I love your tail!" "Ohh, your fangs, they're so COOL!!" - and I start uncontrollably blushing. I never would have thought species affirmation would feel this euphoric… Naturally, being a teenager, she takes this as an excuse to push even harder, and I start covering my face with my paws, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You look just like the tigers they have on stage for those shows in Vegas!"

"H-hey, that's actually not okay…"

"You know, I bet you'd look good up on a stage too! Everyone would love to see you!!"

Instinctually, I let out a growl, louder than I actually want to. It has the intended effect, in that she stops dead and stares at me, but so do a few other cafe patrons. Oh gods, here comes the embarrassment again… "H-hey, look, it's just…"

"Sorry." She's gone completely deadpan, and stiff as a board.

I close my eyes tightly. Gods, why did I DO that?? First the waitress at that seafood place, and now an actual CHILD. I REALLY need to start getting a handle on these predator instincts. When I open my eyes again, she's still standing there, and she looks like she's on the verge of a panic attack.

I need to calm her down, need to bring her back. "No… I'M sorry. I shouldn't have done that, I just… The animals they use for those stage shows get abused all the time, and it's kind of a sore spot for me."

"…Really?"

Okay, she's talking, she's distracted, maybe I can still salvage this. "Yeah… Every species has baggage, it's one of the shitty parts of being therian, and tigers, white tigers especially, they're treated like show pieces, or worse."

"…Well shit, I knew they're endangered, but… fuck."

"Yeah, it's a whole thing, I try not to -"

Our conversation is interrupted by one of the staff tapping corvid-girl on the shoulder and asking to talk privately. She reluctantly agrees to go to the back of the store and talk. At first I think maybe she's being chastised for being a disturbance, but the barista who pulled her away is giving me some very pointed looks. Worried looks, I might even say.

If I angle my ears just right, I can almost hear them through the noise of the rest of the cafe.

"…other patrons were concerned… …young lady so close to a dangerous creature…"

I wonder if the barista notices the indignant look that crosses my face when they describe me as a 'creature'.

Corvid-girl lets out that bird-like laugh of hers. Her voice is a lot more distinct and easier to pick out:

"It's just my aunt! She's not a 'creature', she just takes meds to look like that!"

The barista doesn't protest as corvid-girl returns to our table, but they're still giving me a very 'You'd better not try anything' kind of look.

Corvid-girl sits down, seemingly a little more grounded, a little more sobered. "…I guess I never thought to ask, why a white tiger?"

I lean forward, head in one paw, and give a bit of a shrug. "I relate a lot to them."

"To… being treated like a show piece, or whatever you said?"

"…Yeah. When I was little, they called me 'gifted' and put me in a separate school. I remember being excited about it, but it turns out it just meant getting more homework."

"…Ew."

I smile a little bit. "That's what I thought too! They wanted me to be some brilliant prodigy, a genius in the making, but the reality is I was just more observant and better at math than most people, that's all. I actually had to take an extra year of school because I was so bad at it."

"EWW!!"

"I KNOW, RIGHT?? But, then I went to college and graduated at the top of my class, so the joke's on them in the end."

"I wasn't even planning on staying around long enough for college…" She still has a bit of a depressed air about her, but she's not going into a panic. Maybe I'm better with kids than I thought.

"Yeah, I remember, you were going to turn into a beautiful crow and fly away forever." I try to give her a reassuring look. "But hey, the human world isn't ALL bad."

"Says the woman who's turning herself into a wild animal."

I snort quietly as I hold back a laugh. "Okay, fair, but wild animals don't get the internet, or nice little cafes where weirdos like us can just sit and talk."

"Hah, yeah… Weirdos like us." She gives a smile. An actual, genuine smile. Suddenly all the awkwardness is worth it, to see someone so deeply unhappy smile. "That reminds me, I saw on the server you're into witchcraft, can you… teach me?"

Somehow I feel like I should have expected this. The goth-looking crow girl is into witchcraft, big surprise. "I… guess? Maybe? I'm not like an expert or anything, I've just read a few books and cast a few spells is all."

"Ooh, what kind of spells??" And now she's back to her enthusiastic self.

"Just some protective charms on people who needed them, a few card readings with a tarot deck, nothing much really…"

"Does it really work??"

"I mean, the people I cast those charms on ended up safe in the end, but who knows if what I did made a difference? Some of the card readings were scary-accurate though, I think I might have a talent for divination."

She laughs. "Gonna have to get you to read my future sometime."

We end up spending the next hour or so making small talk, getting to know each other, talking about the ins and outs of humanity removal, complaining about Dr. Erian, until…

"Hey, I gotta go catch the bus back home, but… this was nice." She gives a bit of a smirk. "Cool to meet another weirdo."

Before she leaves, I ask her name - I still don't know it, I've been internally calling her 'corvid-girl' this entire time.

She gives me a disgusted grimace. "Ugh, it's 'Margaret'. I'm named for my great-grandmother, it's SUCH an old-lady name."

"Margaret, like Maggie, as in magpie?" I smile a little. "Those are corvids too, you know."

Her expression softens a little. "…Never thought of that. Still don't like it, though…"

"Well, is there a name you'd like better? I can start calling you that if you like."

She freezes. Somewhere in her eyes I can see her mind working to process what I've just said. "…Nobody ever asked me that before. I'll… think about it." She turns to leave.

"Wait, hold on a sec."

"WHAT!?" She outright glares at me, then seems to soften. "Sorry, it's… never mind."

That… was an EXTREMELY sudden mood shift. Trauma response, maybe? "I… was just going to ask if you wanted a sandwich or something to take home."

"…Didn't bring any money…"

I shake my head a little. "That doesn't answer my question. Would you like me to BUY you a sandwich or something?"

"…Egg salad if they got it I guess…"

I go up to the counter and buy her an egg salad sandwich to go. She looks like she's going to cry when I hand it to her. I… probably shouldn't make a big deal about that, but somewhere deep inside, my heart breaks a little. Does she never have anyone just… offer her food?

I'm beginning to understand why she wants to leave behind the curse of humanity. I chose this path, I wanted to be a tiger, I'm running towards something. Corvid-girl, though? She's running away from something.

I walk her outside, and she starts to walk away, but suddenly stops, and turns back to me. She walks resolutely up to me, then grabs me in a hug.

"Soft…" Her voice is muffled against both my shirt and the fur underneath. "You're very soft…"

Once I get over my surprise at the sudden gesture, I hesitantly put one arm around her shoulders and pat her on the back. She pulls away after a few short moments, and walks away down the sidewalk without another word.

I touch my shirt where her head was leaning, and notice a small wet spot.

---

Time to play "Spot the References!" Intentional references below:

"something about a 'foolish undine'" - welldrawnfish (Fish HRT)

"the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl" - ayviedoesthings (Dragon HRT)

"I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia" - ariathelamia (Lamia HRT)

"someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog" - sonic-spirit (Sonic HRT)

"watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes" - Rain, by Jocelyn Samara D. (Dragon HRT)

#tiger hrt #therian hrt #animal hrt #species hrt #furry hrt #otherkin hrt #transgender #transwoman #trans #trans artist #lgbtq artist #my art

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