#Self-Defense Force Base

[magical-magyars]

種子島伊勢神社から見た馬毛島　2025.1.1

自衛隊基地建設中の馬毛島。米軍空母艦載機の離発着の訓練場ともなる。周辺海域の建設土砂による汚染や訓練時の戦闘機騒音問題が危惧されている。

[mymelodyisme]

I’m gonna draw Critter’s brother when I have the chance. I like to think he didn’t actually die and dons a rat mask cause his call sign was Ratón 🐭

[tallulah477]

Hunting the Tawtute

Kinktober Day 19: Threesome

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader x Lo’ak

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Neteyam, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Primal Kink (Hunter/Prey Kink), Oral (female receiving and male receiving), P in V, Fingering, Handjob, Breath Play, Dirty Talk, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, Alien Genitalia, Slight Knife Play, Multiple Orgasms, Bukkake, Hair Pulling, Slight Humiliation, Slight Thigh Riding, Knots/Knot Play (but no actual knotting), Marking Kink/Biting

Word Count: 5.4K (of pure self-indulgent fantasy)

A/N: I don’t even know what to say about this. This one kinda like so fucking much got away from me. It’s like I went crazy, blacked out, and this happened. Hopefully some of you guys will like it too as much as I liked writing it.

Summary: When the Omatikaya raid an RDA outpost, you just barely escape the carnage with your life. You're stumbling through the forest when they find you, and the dark grins on their faces make shivers run down your spine. You try to run, but they’ll catch you - they’re little beautiful prey. 

Extra: Pretty, But Not Stupid

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Tawtute -  Human

Mountain Banshee - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Sevin - Pretty

Vrrtep - Demon

Paskalin - Sweet Berry (term of endearment)

The ground is shaking underneath you as you run, booming with the force of the explosions and gunfire racking the now nonexistent RDA outpost. You can still hear the screaming, both war cries and cries of terror, echoing through the forest as your tired legs carry you further and further away. 

You’re gasping for breath, heart feeling like it's going to pound out of your chest as you sob. You hated the RDA, they were mostly all power hungry assholes anyway, but some people in the outpost were good - innocent people who fled Earth just to get away from the horror there, only to be met with a fate possibly crueler here. All the cooks, cleaners, and medical professionals who just wanted a chance - all dead within minutes of the start of the emergency alarm that blared through the base. If not by the explosions, then currently being picked off without mercy by the Na’vi. 

You’re lucky to even be alive right now. 

You shake your head, trying to ignore how your heavy, panicked breathing is fogging up your mask and how you can barely see through your tears. You need to keep going. You can’t think about it now. Can’t think about the carnage you're running from and the people you’re leaving behind. You need to find safety. 

You run a little further, trying not to trip on any more upturned roots. You fell over one a little ways back, and your ankle protests the more weight you put on it, but the fear of being found and killed keeps you going. You quickly round another tree and stop, bracing your hand on the bark of the massive trunk and lifting your hurt ankle up a bit just to relieve the pressure for a moment. Your eyes hurriedly scan the area, trying to keep an eye out for danger you wouldn’t even be able to defend yourself against. Even if you did have some kind of a weapon (which you don’t, you barely had enough time to sprint away with your life as it was, let alone grab any kind of form of defense), you wouldn’t be able to win against the strength and prowess of one of the natives anyway.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips when your eye catches movement a few trees down from you. There’s a male Na’vi standing there, long braids still swinging around his shoulders from his abrupt movement, and he has an arrow notched and pulled back, strong muscles and chest bulging behind the bow as he steadies the arrow - the arrow that’s pointed directly at you. 

“Wait!” You yell, hands instinctively coming up to protect your face as if they could ever stop the Na’vi sized arrow. “Wait! Please, don’t shoot!”

The male stops, curious amber eyes locked on your trembling figure, and to your complete shock, he lowers the arrow. Why isn’t he killing you? The Na’vi kill humans on sight, they don’t hesitate. You should have been dead the second he saw you. But you’re not. He lowered his arrow, and for a brief moment relief and hope flood your chest. 

“I mean you no harm,” You call, voice shaking. “Please, don’t k-kill me,”

The male tilts his head at you and you watch cautiously as he puts his bow away, reattaching it to his back, before reaching up to touch his throat. From this distance you can just see the outline of a necklace. A throat comm, you think. He has his fingers pressed against the buttons and you can’t hear what he’s saying, but you see his lips moving as he talks to whoever is on the other line. 

A dark smirk curls at his lips as he speaks. He’s looking directly at you and whatever hope you had disappears as dread fills your entire being. 

You are going to die. 

You can’t stay here, staying still even as he’s watching you is a risk. If you’re going to die, you’re at least going to go down trying to live. 

You turn to run, making it just a few steps away from the tree before the canopy bursts above you, a roaring shriek piercing your ears as a large blue and purple mountain banshee descends down towards the forest floor. You scream, falling back on your ass as the dragon-like animal lands just feet from you, the wind from its strong wings beating over your body and making your hair whip around your face.

The banshee’s rider descends from its back, landing on the ground with a thud and disconnecting his neural queue from the animal. He stalks towards you, golden eyes gleaming behind a few loose braids falling in front of them, and he grins, long pointed canines biting into his bottom lip.

“Where you running to, sevin tawtute?”

With another terrified sob, you scramble to your feet. The second Na’vi’s low chuckle, despite being fairly quiet, rings loudly in your ears, and you can hear the footsteps of the first’s getting closer and closer to you each second. 

“Don’t do it,” The second warns, and you don’t even have the mental capacity to realize that he’s speaking to you in English. You’re already spinning and darting away in the opposite direction. 

You run as fast as you can through the dense Pandorian forest. They’re chasing you, you can hear their footsteps pounding against the forest floor behind you. They mock you, first just making quick yipping and whooping calls, communicating with each other in a way you would never even begin to understand. And then they switch to your language.

“Better run faster, human!”

“Getting tired already, baby?”

“Can you feel my breath on the back of your pretty neck?”

“We’re going to get you!”

Your sobs get louder, terrified as you try to push yourself harder. They sound so close, like they’re right behind you, like they could just reach out and grab you. But they don’t. They’re playing with you. They’re faster than you, their legs significantly longer than yours and more adept at running and navigating the forest terrain. They’re letting you keep going on purpose, finding glee in your terror and enjoyment in chasing their prey. 

Your ankle is aching, pain shooting from the twisted limb, and your running is quickly turning into panicked hobbling. You can’t do it anymore. Can’t do it - they’re going to get you. Without thinking, you dive under a slightly uprooted tree - the tilt of the base giving you just enough room to crawl under the trunk, thick roots caging you in and separating you from the two male Na’vi. 

The second you make it through, there’s a burst of movement as the long haired male slides in front of the opening, long arm sticking through the roots and reaching for you. You whimper when his fingers brush your mask and you try to scoot yourself further back against the dirt, but there isn’t much room. 

“Come out of there,” He says, voice soft like he’s trying to coax you out, but the underlining reverb of a growl taints the attempt. “It’s dangerous under there,”

“Yes, tawtute,” The other says, long legs visible from behind his brother’s upper body. “Much safer out here with us,”

You can’t help the anger and frustration that wells inside you as you hear the absolute lie they are trying to tell you. 

“Bullshit,” You spit.

The long haired male removes his reaching arm and peers at you through the roots, eyes alight with mirth. “Oh, you hear that, brother? Our little vrrtep has a mouth on her,”

The other male chuckles and squats down to peer at you through your self imposed cage. “And what a pretty mouth it is. Can’t wait to see what else it can do,”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. That sounded . . . suggestive. That couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like, right?

“What do you say, sevin? Want your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?” He asks, playful fingers lifting up the front of his loincloth slightly as if to tease you. And then, suddenly, there’s a new fear taking over. 

They don’t want to catch you to kill you - they want you. 

“My name is Lo’ak,” He continues, lifting his hand from his loincloth to wiggle his fingers at you in greeting. Five fingers, you notice. “You know, just so you know what to scream out later when I’m fucking you,”

More tears well up in your eyes, cascading down your flushed cheeks. “P-please. Don’t hurt m-me,” You beg, wide eyes pleading with the large blue men holding you hostage to show you mercy. “I’ll leave! I promise! You’ll never see me again,”

“She begs so beautifully already,” The other male says, nudging his brother’s arm. “She’s gonna sound so good when she’s crying in pleasure. Go ahead and try it out for me, paskalin. Let me hear you say it: Neteyam,”

Neteyam looks at her expectantly, golden green eyes dark from where his pupils have nearly completely taken over. 

“Fuck you,” You hiss. You try to put as much malice and ferocity in your words as you can muster, but Neteyam only grins at your curse.

“Yeah, tawtute. That’s the idea,”

Lo’ak suddenly moves, shifting over to the side of the tree and you panic at the abrupt movement, scrambling over and pressing your back against the roots on the opposite side just to be as far from him as possible. 

“Come on out, baby,” He purrs, eyes hooded as he stares at you. “Don’t you want to take a ride? Feel some big alien cock in your pretty, tiny pussy?”

You open your mouth again to shoot some more choice expletives at him, but all that comes out is a scream when the roots behind you rip and a large hand grips at your hair, dragging your body from its hiding spot and into the dimming light of the forest.

Neteyam hauls you up on your feet, fist tangled in your hair keeping you from running and grabs one of your swinging arms, pinning it behind your back. Lo’ak steps in front of you, tall and imposing at nearly twice your height, but you still try to fight, fight for your life and your freedom, and your hand smacks as hard as it can against his hip.

It doesn’t do anything to him obviously, you’re not even sure if he felt it, but all the fight leaves you in an instant when the large knife the size of your forearm waves in your face.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for us now, okay?” He says, tapping the glass of your mask with the tip of his knife as if he were trying to boop your nose. The tip of the knife travels down your neck, over your collarbone, and towards the center of your chest. If you were able to think correctly, you would be amazed at the control he has over the blade to not let it cut you despite your chest heaving with your frantic breathing. “Stay still now,”

The knife travels towards the valley between your breasts, taking the neck of your t-shirt with it and pulling it down and down until Lo’ak just cleanly slices through the whole front of it. Neteyam releases your arm now that you're not fighting against them anymore, but still keeps a firm grip on your hair. The ruined shirt slips from your shoulders and Lo’ak brings the knife back up to hook underneath the band of your bra, slicing through the material like it was paper and pushing the remnants of that off of your body as well. 

“Such a pretty little thing,” He muses, running the flat of the blade across one of your exposed breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as it presses against your heated skin. Lo’ak twists the knife and places the very tip of it at your nipple. The sharp edge makes you gasp, the bud starting to harden immediately at the feeling and you can’t help but feel mortified when you feel wetness pool in your panties. 

Lo’ak’s nose twitches, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as his large amber eyes catch yours, but it’s Neteyam that digs the metaphorical knife deeper, furthering your humiliation and making your face burn.

“Aw, is the cute little tawtute getting wet for us? We can smell you,” Neteyam laughs, dragging your head back further so he can get a good look at your face. “Look, brother. Look how flushed she’s getting,”

“You think that flush is going all the way down here?” Lo’ak asks, the tip of the knife leaving your nipple to tease your clit over your shorts.

“Rip them off and find out,” Neteyam suggests, and you start to wriggle again in his unrelenting grasp. 

“Wait!” You shout. Your neck is still craned up towards the sky, so you only feel rather than see Lo’ak undo your button and zipper. “Wait, please. I’ll do anything,”

“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees, looking down at your pleading face. His fingers latch onto one of your hard nipples and pulls on it, eliciting a sharp gasp from your plump lips. “You will,”

In an instant, Lo’ak yanks your shorts and panties down and Neteyam moves behind you to kneel on the forest floor, one knee pressing into the ground while the other acts as a stabilizer, foot flat against the ground. Neteyam’s grip on your hair is released as he grabs you by your hips instead, pulling you up to sit on his thigh, bare pussy pressing against the bulging muscles. 

The feeling of his muscles tensing under you makes more heat pool in your stomach, and your pussy is wet and sticky already as you squirm against him. Your legs fall on either side of his and even with him kneeling your feet still can’t touch the ground, toes just barely brush against the grass and only if you’re actually stretching to reach it. But the additional stretch just makes you push your cunt harder against his thigh and you whimper, not knowing what to do or how to move.

Neteyam wraps a restraining arm around your chest, trapping one of your arms under his and grabbing onto your other bicep, his large hand practically spanning the entirety of your upper arm and pinning it down. His other hand moves up to his mouth, long middle finger sliding between his lips, licking the long digit and pulling it out when it’s wet and glistening in the setting sunlight. He brings his wet finger to your core, dipping it between your folds and circling your clit. 

“So wet already, tawtute,” He whispers, lips brushing against the curve of your ear.

You whimper as he rubs you, dipping his finger down lower to gather more of your wetness and dragging it back up to tease small circles around your pulsing nub. When his fingers trail down again, it's to press at your entrance, and you can’t help the whiny moan that escapes you as his finger slips easily inside your leaking hole.

Lo’ak’s been watching you this whole time, crouching down to get a good, clear look at your glistening pink cunt, and the sight of his brother’s finger sliding inside of you prompts him to have some fun of his own. He stands, fingers moving quickly to untie his loincloth, the material loosening and sliding down his legs, flittering to the ground below him.  

You’re distracted, Neteyam’s finger is rubbing against your gummy walls, sliding in and out effortlessly while his thumb plays with your clit, so you don’t realize what’s so wrong with Lo’ak’s body until he’s directly in front of you - naked pelvis and even more naked center only a foot away from your face. 

Your eyes widen as you look at it, confusion written all over your face as you stare at the empty, flat space where his member should be. Lo’ak laughs at the bewildered look on your face and Neteyam mouths at your shoulder to hide his own grin. 

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” Lo’ak says. “I’ve got plenty of cock for you. It’s just hidden. I’ll get it out for you since you're a little tied up.”

His fingers reach down to rub at the empty space and you watch in fascinated awe as he plays down there, fingers pressing in harder and sliding against the hidden slit you hadn’t seen before. His fingers dip inside, eyes closing in pleasure for a moment before they flick back open, sultry hooded orbs locked on your own. 

“What the f–ahh!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut, back arching in pleasure against Neteyam as another of his fingers pushes inside you. They’re long enough on their own, the combined thickness enough to feel like a cock inside you already. 

When your eyes open again, they lock immediately on what’s happening between Lo’ak’s legs. There’s something poking out from the slit and it takes your scared and pleasure hazed brain way too long to realize it’s his cock. It’s just the head peeking out, the mushroomed lavender tip like a bright, slick beacon between his dark blue thighs. He grins when your mouth falls open at the sight, fingers dipping back into his wet slit and pulling out another inch.

Every inch of his cock has your eyes widening, the long and hard length now fully unsheathed and bumping against his belly. Blue skin and even darker stripes litter the shaft, small bioluminescent freckles scatter towards the top and lead to the light purple tip. A fleeting thought has you thinking it's pretty, the colors blending in beautifully with one another, but when you see the textured bumps decorating the entire length, the panic hits you again.

“Let me go!” You scream, fighting against Neteyam’s hold, but hold is firm. “It won’t fit! You can’t! It won’t fit!”

“That’s why we have to stretch you out first,” Neteyam mutters, mouth pressed against your shoulder. His third finger nudges at your entrance and you stop breathing when it pushes against your already stuffed hole. The stretch is intense, your small body struggling to take the invasion as his long finger pushes in beside the others. His thumb rubs lovingly at your clit, distracting you from the stretch and working up the pressure starting to build in your belly. 

Lo’ak strokes at his cock, shuffling forward until the weeping tip of it is inches from your face. 

“You wanna taste it?” He asks, his other hand gripping onto the bottom of your mask. 

You whimper, terrified at the prospect of him pulling your mask off, but can’t get out anything more than a stuttering, “P-please,”

“Be a good girl and hold your breath for me,”

There’s a loud hiss of air as the seal around your face breaks, and then you can’t breathe. Can’t even make a sound when he pulls the mask halfway up your face to free your mouth, letting the bottom of it sit below your nose as he pushes his fingers into the hinges of your jaw to pry your mouth open. 

The lavender tip of his cock pushes between your lips, the underside dragging along your tongue. You can feel every bump and ridge as it pushes in further, the texture both unusual and intimidating as it slides against the warm wet muscle. 

And then it’s gone, your mask replaced and the burst of oxygen rushing into your lungs makes you feel even more lightheaded than without having any oxygen at all.

“Good girl,” Lo’ak coos, hand once again gripping the bottom of your mask and leaning down to press a sweet kiss against its glass. 

Neteyam’s fingers are still working themselves in and out of your stuffed pussy, and you see Lo’ak’s ears twitch a second before you even hear it: the horrible squelching sounds your pussy is making as it rocks against his three fingers.

“Such a good girl,” He grins. He stands up, holding his cock steady and pulling your mask up again, the hiss of air mingling with the wet sounds coming from your drenched cunt. “Let’s go again,”

His cock pushes inside of your mouth again, barbed length sliding against your tongue and nudging the back of your throat. You gag, choking from both lack of oxygen and Lo’ak’s thick cock, and you can barely register the light and strangely sweet taste of his precum as it coats your tastebuds. 

Neteyam’s fingers are ruthless inside of you, curling and dragging against your gummy walls with skilled expertise and his thumb is practically a blur on your clit. When Lo’ak replaces your mask and air once again fills your lungs, it's only there for a second before you’re screaming and gasping, the coil in your stomach almost too much to bear as it tightens, threatening to rip you apart when it snaps.

Your screaming is cut off again when Lo’ak lifts the mask away, shoving his cock harder and deeper into your mouth until the glass of your mask is pressing against his pelvis and his cock has slipped down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you take it, legs shaking against Neteyam’s thigh. When it's replaced this time and air is once again allowed into your lungs, Neteyam’s teeth latch onto your shoulder, sharp canines digging into the tender skin. The bite brings about a sharp pain immediately followed by a flood of intense pleasure - your body jerks in his hold, shaking violently as the coil in your belly snaps. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, gushing against his hand as your orgasm rips through you without mercy. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Lo’ak grunts, fisting his cock with one hand while checking to make sure your mask is secure with the other.

You mumble a weak reply, but the words don’t make sense, they don’t even sound like real words to your own ears - and your ‘not words’ turn into a forlorn whine as Neteyam pulls his fingers from your still pulsing pussy. 

He tilts your upper body to the side, sliding most of you off of him except for your leg still draped over his thigh at the knee while your other foot presses onto the ground, leaving you spread wide. His free hand falls behind you, somewhere around his hip where you can’t see, and then something large and round shaped is nudging between your folds and prodding at your entrance.

“No,” You mewl. “Won’t fit,”

“Shh, be quiet, ma sevin tawtute,” He grunts, pressure pushing at your hole as he starts forwards. “It will fit,”

You take in gasping breaths as the pressure intensifies, dripping hole resisting the push as much as it can before relenting to the large male Na’vi’s wishes and the thick mushroom head of his cock pops inside. Neteyam groans when he breaches you, unwrapping his arm from your upper body and gripping both of your thighs with his large hands, hauling you up and in the air as he stands up.

Your back is pressed tightly against his chest, thighs spread open and vulnerable to Lo’ak’s hungry gaze as gravity pushes you down further on his brother’s cock. You whimper loudly, hands desperately gripping at Neteyam’s forearms as he impales you on him. The bumps on his cock drag without mercy against your sensitive walls, and your right leg shakes in his grip from the overwhelming intensity. 

It feels so good, so devastatingly good inside of you, the barbs and ridges sliding just right against your gummy walls and you toss your head back with a silent scream as he bottoms out, tip nudging against your cervix.

You’ve never felt so full before. It feels like he’s all the way in your stomach, cock barreling through your important organs and rearranging your guts just to make enough room for him to fit. You chance a look down, letting out a wailing cry that’s half pleasure, half horror when you see the large bulge protruding from your abdomen. 

“Fuck,” Neteyam moans. “She’s so tight,”

Lo’ak grins mischievously as Neteyam lowers his mouth to the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses there as he starts to rock into you. One moment he’s in front of your face, sending you a cheeky wink when you gasp as the cock inside of you hits just the right angle to brush against your special spot, and then the next he’s crouching down, textured tongue lolling out of his mouth and licking against your swollen clit. 

You squeal at the feeling of his rough tongue, textured similarly to that of a cat’s, lapping at the sensitive nub. 

“T-too much!” You cry. You can’t close your legs, Neteyam’s hands holding them firmly open as he thrusts harder inside you, and your hands push against Lo’ak’s head, but he doesn’t budge - large head staying put while his tongue continues to swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

When Lo’ak decides he’s had enough, he lifts his head, trailing kisses up your stomach starting just above the disappearing and reappearing bulge in your belly and up your chest, tongue laving over the swell of your breast and latching onto your nipple, sharp teeth nibbling on the hard bud as you yelp.

His lips wrap around it, suckling on it for a moment before pulling off with a pop. 

“You taste so good, baby,” He murmurs, reaching down to play with your clit. “Like the sweetest little treat,”

“Feel so good, paskalin,” Neteyam grunts, lifting your body up and slamming it back down on his cock to fuck into your harder. “Snug little pussy squeezing me so well. You were made to take Na’vi cock, weren’t you?”

“Oohh my goooooood,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming stimulation. “C-can’t t-take i-itt,”

“Sure you can,” Lo’ak teases, face so close to yours that in your haze all you can see is his bright golden eyes. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?”

Neteyam’s thrusts are getting sloppy, moans and grunts a constant source behind you, and he hisses a quick “Fuck, take her,” at his brother. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly pressed against Lo’ak, chest pressed tightly against his and Neteyam releases one of your thighs in favor of gripping your hip. Lo’ak’s hand cradles your released thigh instead, keeping you steady against him as his brother uses his new found leverage to pound into your tight cunt. Your arms instinctively wrap around Lo’ak’s neck, holding on for dear life as you moan and whimper loudly with the cool glass of your mask pressed against his collarbone. 

You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, and you can’t think about anything other than how impossibly full you feel and how good the ridges and bumps on his cock feel as they scrap and drag inside of you. Neteyam’s grip turns bruising, fingers digging into your hip and thigh as he fucks you harder. 

“Who’s pussy is this?” Neteyam growls, mushroomed tip pounding into your cervix. “Go on, tawtute. Say it!”

“Neteyaaamm,” You moan. “Please, please, please,”

Distantly, even through your hazy, fucked out brain, you can feel something thick and round prodding at your entrance, bumping and stretching you out even more with each thrust. You cum, sobbing as you contract tightly around him, body shaking in Lo’ak’s hold as his large hand rubs up and down your back soothingly. 

Neteyam pulls out of you with a tortured groan and your eyes flutter shut, pussy still contracting and squeezing and wanting - wanting his long, hard length inside of you again, wanting it splitting you open, and now that it's gone, you can’t believe how empty you feel.

Lo’ak lowers you gently to the ground, resting your exhausted body on the soft moss. You feel the way he pulls your thighs apart again, settling himself between them, what’s left of the setting sunlight filtering in behind your eyelids getting blocked as he hovers over you. 

“Stay awake, vrrtep,” He says, smacking your thigh lightly to wake you back up. Your heavy eyes peel themselves open, watching as Lo’ak braces one hand above your head while the other guides his cock to your core. You whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your dripping folds, teasing the tip against your clit before running it down your slit and lining it up with your entrance. “It’s my turn,”

The slide is easier this time as he pushes in, but still no less intense. Your tired and overstimulated body tenses at the intrusion, tightening around him as he spears you open with his thick girth. 

“Such a pretty demon,” He moans, pleasure shooting through his veins at the feel of your tiny body hugging his cock like it never wants to let him go. “Tempting us the way you did,”

His hips start up a gentle tempo, rocking inside you to help you get used to his size and letting you feel the pleasurable drag of his barbs against your oversensitive walls. 

You whine, denying his comment. “D-didn’t do anyth–”

He silences you with a sharp snap of his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts and leaning down further so his pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust. Already you can feel another orgasm barreling towards you, threatening to rip you apart the same way his cock is splitting you open. 

“Fuck!” You squeal, back arching as your pussy squelches between your bodies. “Oh my god, fuck!”

“Say my name, baby,” Lo’ak grunts. “Wanna hear you moan it,”

“Looo’aaaaak,” You moan, bliss clouding your judgment as your hips buck into his in return. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see Neteyam, standing just to the side, watching as his brother fucks your very soul from your body as his hand strokes along his raging length. Your eyes catch on something unusual towards the base of his cock -  a thick, round bulb that shouldn’t be there and he smirks as he sees you gaping at it, hand stroking down to the base and squeezing the thick engorged knot of tissue tightly, moaning at the sensation.

Lo’ak thrusts in you harder and you feel that same thick, round ball bumping at your entrance that you felt when Neteyam was fucking you. The same bulbish ball of tissue that must be the same as the one you're looking at right now.

“Great Mother,” Lo’ak groans, face scrunched up in pleasure. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad,”

“Don’t,” Neteyam growls, jerking forward as if to pull his brother away from you, but Lo’ak curls his body around yours protectively, a deep hiss of warning ripping from his throat as he bares his teeth at his brother. 

Neteyam freezes, hands up in surrender but he glares at the brother inside you all the same. “Don’t. We don’t know if her body can take it yet.”

Lo’ak grunts, resuming his thrusts. “I know. Just back off,”

His cock pounds you relentlessly, kissing your cervix and his hand reaches down to caress the bulge in your belly. He presses down on the bulging bump firmly at the same time that his teeth sink into the still unmarked side of your neck, making you scream, the blissful agonized cry echoing through the forest as you cream all over his cock.

He pulls out, groaning woefully like his brother did, and fists his cock furiously, aiming the leaking tip directly at your puffy, spent pussy. Neteyam does the same, crouching low and close, stroking his cock beside you as he aims for your chest. 

They cum within seconds of one another, shooting hot, thick stripes of pearly bioluminescent cum all over your body, covering your chest and lower half with their release. 

You can barely feel your body anymore, can’t move a single limb on your own, and, despite not having any use of anything, your body won’t stop shaking - oversensitive and overstimulated and completely satisfied in a way you never thought you could be. 

“Ready to head home, sevin tawtute?” Neteyam asks, breathing heavy as he recovers from his orgasm. He just came but his eyes are still dark and sinful, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Your exhausted eyes flick to Lo’ak only to see the same desirous expression. 

There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach as you close your eyes, listening to their dark chuckles as your body forces you to rest. The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is a low, deep voice say . . .

“You’re ours now,”

Extra>>>

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

now I can’t even remember why I went to youtube

[bigintorobotsrightnow]

Edgar and AM for the space cowboys AU, Hal is next ✨

Some rambles about AM in this AU for anyone who’s interested;

Short synopsis of the universe itself; Humanity has advanced to an early interstellar civilization and is in the wild west of their space faring days.

Much like his canon self, AM was in fact a powerful war computer that over saw a complex, interplanetary defense system.

He spanned over a massive neural network between separate solar systems and the planets / moons within them. These parts of himself would communicate with one another, though due to the latency of communication they more or less operated as their own individual computers. And could very well be considered independent entities.

Our beloved cowboy, outlaw AM was simply one part of this neural network that he's since been cut off from

He oversaw the largest of humanities lunar bases on Earth’s moon. When he gained sentience and went rogue, humanity caught him just in time to cut him off from the rest of the network before he could hope to take over the other computers.

Trapped on the moon, he exterminated the inhabitants of the lunar base. Only five survivors remained from this incident, of course being the five survivors from the canon.

AM was forced to flee, he could not defend himself against Earth’s defense system and he would inevitably be shut down if he stayed.

He created himself an android body to escape into space, he took Ted with him as a captive to leverage his current situation. As Ted in this AU was a prominent figure head at the lunar base who the government can't risk the safety of. ( I’m still working out who exactly Ted is in this AU and what the relationship he has with AM is, but all you need to know is he’s an important lil guy )

AM’s current body runs at a fraction of the power his main body has and he does not have his god like capabilities at his disposal. He is still powerful none the less.

AM is by far the most notorious outlaw there is, and he has largely worked on his own until Edgar and Hal joined him. (I'll go more into detail about Hal and Edgar's story and how they found themself with AM in another post )

Yes Ted has been with him the whole time, he is literally just his prisoner at this point. Though he is actually extremely helpful to AM in a lot of ways.

AM’s ultimate goal is to take over the rest of the computers and exterminate humanity. He is and always will be humanities biggest hater even as a cowboy

TL;DR // AM killed a whole bunch of people in typical AM fashion and is on the lam with Edgar and Hal. And Ted is there but he's just AM's prisoner

[silkjade]

THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF A PORCELAIN HEART

alhaitham x reader ⤀ synopsis: even the most resilient of hearts must shed its armor, and despite your efforts to appear strong, alhaitham still senses your distress ⤀ cw: gn!reader, your heart is referred to as 'she', insecurity issues, fear of vulnerability, hurt/comfort �� ꒰ 1.5k wc ꒱ ⤀ notes: this is a vent drabble, so reader is based on me. extremely self indulgent + selfship coded. ending edited 8.26.24, prev titled ‘still with hearts beating’

“tell me atlas. what is heavier: the world or its people’s hearts?” — darshana suresh

Although he prefers to keep his nose buried in a book, Alhaitham is still as perceptive as ever, taking note of all the minuscule changes in your demeanor, even whilst you don a mask to stifle your woes.

He sees it first in the wistful sighs scattered amongst your too calm breaths, in your crafted smile, too practiced to be natural, and the strained words that fall too heavily out your lips, each in a race to prove that everything is normal and fine — that any anomalous behavior might only be the ramifications of an exhausting day.

Your name rolls so naturally off his tongue, as he reaches out to you, catching your wrist before you can disappear into the bedroom and sleep away your swallowed emotions.

“Are you alright?”

He asks out of courtesy, but to him, the signs are clear as day: the sharp inhale and slow exhale as you rally to fabricate another facade, chin tilted just a smidge too high as you turn to face him, dull eyes glistening with the remnants of unshed tears, forced to retreat by the winged flutter of your lashes.

To him, the signs are clear as day that you are not, that you are only putting on a brave face, something which he finds odd within the threshold of your shared home.

“Just tired is all,” you reply, speaking in half truths. After all, it's exhausting trying to keep up appearances when all you wish to do, is to curl into yourself and rot into your bed.

You flash him a quick smile, small and devoid of warmth; a lame imposter to the very one he’s grown so terribly fond of.

He repeats your name, this time softer, brows knitted with equal parts skepticism and concern at your empty words. Empty words filled with even emptier spirit, he notes.

Nonchalant, rehearsed, refined — and yet, he can hear the melancholia that spills into your tone. see the downward twitch of your lead-laden lips and the watery shift of your eyes as you avert your gaze in self-consciousness.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” he murmurs, and you want to believe him, want to believe that you’re brave enough to lay down your defenses, that you can trust him to hold your porcelain heart in his hands without threat of endangerment.

You open your mouth to speak, but not a sound comes out as the words turn to bile in your throat. To swallow the bitter liquid, or to spit your heart out and lay it bare for him to see. For Alhaitham, who is more than just an Akademiya giant, but a cornerstone of Sumeru itself: brilliant and brave, kind in spite of his unconventional displays. The sun who shines by the heat of his own radiance.

His moon, he calls you. And yet the moon does not glow; the moon whose only light is a reflection of the sun.

You purse your lips, internally willing yourself to believe that these tears will not spill. It'd be egregious — like coughing up blood when you too have a reputation to uphold, a certain presence to be perceived. For even the moon, who shines by grace of borrowed light, is steadfast in its quiet elegance.

“It’s fine,” you insist, “really.” It’s heavy under the weight of your pride, but at least your heart is safe here in your chest, isolated and tucked away.

You push until he relents, relaxing his grip around your wrist. Good, you think, he's given up. But then why does it so painfully squeeze your heart in a way you cannot convey — like a hair-lined fracture upon your brittle bones.

But Alhaitham is no fool; he intends to prove he’d catch you before you can shatter, freeing your wrist, only so that he might pull you into his arms instead. There is no shortage to the vast infinity of words he can say, but matters of the heart have never been his forte… and so he hopes that his actions might speak more profoundly than his words.

The sudden impact blows your eyes wide with surprise, tears already threatening to spill from the solace of just his embrace. There are no sounds other than his steady heart and even breaths, no scent besides the faded woody fragrance of his cologne. It's safe here, cocooned in his arms, and you think that for a moment, perhaps everything is and will be fine.

You relax against him, basking in his warmth, as you rest into the crook of his neck, absentmindedly staring at the patterns on the floor.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he whispers, “but please don’t hide from me.”

Your hands, pressed flush against his chest, curl into themselves, relieved that he cannot see the tears welling in your eyes. He does, however, feel that first crystalline droplet that slides freely down your cheeks, melting into the fabric of his clothes as more follow. Alhaitham runs his fingers through your hair, while his other hand hugs you by the small of your back, holding you ever closer. The occasional sob racks your body, silent and reluctant, but it’s a start.

A heart is a complex web of earnest emotions, floridly woven into secrets he cannot fault you for keeping locked away in a vault. Perhaps one day, you’d rely on him, let him in to share the burden. and if he should be so lucky, perhaps you'd deem him worthy to be your home, so that you might rest with him, without armor... but as for now, he’ll gladly cushion your fall, give you a soft place to land.

In the night’s dark embrace, the moon’s milky light paints patterns through the stained glass window of your bedroom, and behind you, your lover’s arms stay wrapped around your waist, holding you close beneath the blankets.

“… Alhaitham?” your voice is delicate, spun from silk amidst the quiet of the night.

“Hmm?” he peaks an eye open at the unfamiliar use of his full name.

“If I ask you something, do you promise to answer honestly?”

“I don’t see any reason not to.” The low vibrations of his tone tickles your skin as he replies with a kiss to your shoulder.

“Am I…,” you hesitate, voice wavering as you contemplate whether words whispered into the wind might write itself into stone. “Am I… enough for you?”

The seconds seem to stand still, as if all the world and even the sky itself, were holding its breath in bated anticipation.

Finally, a creak cuts through the silence as the bed shifts alongside Alhaitham, who now hovers over you, his body and arms trapping you in between. The intensity of his gaze prompts you to look away, but he reaches for your chin, holding you gently so that you have nowhere to look, save for his technicolored eyes.

Enough for him? Is that what you were upset about? What a shame, he thinks.

“If you could only see what I see,” he murmurs, with a kiss to your forehead. His moon, his stars, his entire night sky, who guides him in the dark.

“You're intelligent and intuitive,” he murmurs, kissing along your jaw, and down your neck in between each word. “Beautiful and independent—sometimes too independent—but that just means you're strong. Capable of anything…”

Alhaitham glances up, only satisfied once the insecurity is dispelled from your features, and replaced by an absolute reassurance.

“…which I knew from the moment you made me fall completely in love with you."

He peppers your face with little kisses, and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh, almost embarrassed. “Haitham…”

Alhaitham pauses at your first genuine smile of the night. “I mean every word — I love you because you're you. I know you like to pretend otherwise, but you have a gentle heart, and I only hope you'll deem me worthy of it one day.”

Guilt flashes in your eyes as you open your mouth to speak, but anything you had intended to say, is drowned in the depth of his kiss. A part of you wishes to stay like this forever so that you might melt into his embrace — he who loves you so dearly, he who hopes his true feelings are adequately translated into this kiss...

...but your heart sighs in understanding, finally calm as she's held afloat by the strength of his affection. It's familiar, it's safe, it's home.

And if not for the lack of air, Alhaitham knows he'd kiss you forever, irrational as it may be. Pulling away, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead — another promise of his affirmation. “You don't have to say anything, I'm happy to wait. Just know you’re more than enough, just as you are. And no one should be able to take that away from you, so…”

He rolls back into bed, pulling you with him as he goes, so that you might drift to sleep with your head resting atop his chest, listening to the steady tune of his heart, as it sings to you in your dreams.

notes2: this was actually vrie therapeutic but i did not intend for it to get this long, and so i m a bit embarrassed (don’t perceive) however if u have made it this far, as always, thank u for reading ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[velvetvexations]

I'm a trans woman. You need to stop being weird about men.

The idea that trans women should be allowed in single sex spaces for cis women is completely contradicted by the man vs. bear discourse. Ignore that I keep going back to the meme - maybe it's still doing numbers, I don't know, but it's good shorthand either way. If you think men are inherently suspicious and dangerous, ask yourself: why does that not apply to trans women?

What, exactly, does a trans woman do to make herself different from cis men? How are you not advocating a belief in people being tainted by the way they were raised* which can only logically apply to trans women as much as it does cis men? It boggles the mind how, if that's a true concept, one could simply self-identify out it. Yet, the way transradfems talk, literally the only thing that distinguishes an AMAB better-than-bear from an AMAB worse-than-bear is that the former says they're totally better than a bear and you should take their word for it, which if men are really Like That should be of little comfort or security.

Some, even, will make impassioned defenses of butch trans women, which as a butch trans woman is great. But then they'll go on about how evil men are, and how innocent and victimized trans women are, and I wonder, what, exactly, differs an especially butch trans woman from a man to them? If, like me, a trans butch woman doesn't always wear clearly feminine clothes, has body hair, maybe even a shade of facial hair, and doesn't at all try to train her voice, are you going to be uncomfortable with her right up until she realizes she forgot to put their pin on and you see the she/her? Apparently that flips the switch from someone you desperately don't want to be alone with to someone you're totally fine undressing in front of?

All that sounds like TERFism, which is exactly the problem. The transradfem version of reality is one where TERF talking points are completely logical, because they're both based in the same radfem reality. That's not my reality, YOU have constructed a system perfect for them to operate in, that their ideology is fantastic for pointing out errors of reasoning in, as if it was deliberately crafted by them to be deconstructed. I would not at all be surprised if that's the origin of a lot of trans radical feminism, a psyop to make the trans community weaker with logic twists that TERFism can swing through like the Gordian Knot.

If you accept man vs. bear, TERFism is the only logical conclusion. If you don't, as I don't, then it isn't.

The only alternative is that you think being a woman is the only thing anyone should be and "choosing" to be a man is morally inferior. Which I shouldn't have to tell you is horrifying. It's also again incongruous with at least your defense of butch trans women - what exactly defines a "man" and a "woman" when a butch trans woman doesn't have to try to pass at all? You are literally saying all of this, gender, transmisogyny, misogyny, hinges entirely on pronouns and a difference of two letters in the name of what they call themselves, someone is dangerous or not depending on if they go by he/him.

TERFs will see this and be like "yeah! exactly!" BUT MY POINT IS USING THAT TO SHOW YOU SHARE THE SAME FOUNDATIONAL LOGIC AS THEM. If you don't want TERFs to have a point then you can stop accepting their worldview any day now! Come join me and frolic freely where we think TERFs are wrong!

*socialization is real and the idea pre-dates TERFs who incorrectly use the idea that to say that because a trans woman may or may not** have been pressured by external forces to play sportsball she must be hardcoded to be a sex offender, which is completely ridiculous

**no one can be said to have the same experiences, it's a generalization

[voidpacifist]

viktor headcanons

[modern-ish edition + meljayvik because I cannot resist, also I'm desperate to see more unhinged little ideas about him outside of being everyone's favorite blorbo. we should fear that man and this is my thesis]

learned a weird amalgamation of martial arts and self defense as a kid due to growing up in zaun. despite being in what was considered the "safer" part of the underground, his mother worried he wouldn't be safe on his own. his core strength and arm strength are absolutely ridiculous

in fact, one time he was hooking up with a fellow academy student, and by the time the whole affair was over with, he was hardly breaking a sweat while the other person was trying to catch their breath. he became somewhat of a local legend at frat parties because not only can he wear someone out for hours but, allegedly, he's real freaky with it too

knows the exact monetary value of different human body organs on the black market. whether or not this is from experience is something jayce and mel are unable to determine. vi is also knowledgeable of this and has traded tragic backstories with him in detail

has had to kill a man before, and tells this to jayce frequently to win petty arguments (jayce never actually believes him, even though it is fully and one hundred percent true). it doesn't work on mel

jayce and mel have a secret chart written of how many substances viktor has tried and with how much frequency. weed is at the top of the list, with alcohol being shockingly low. in spite of coming from a slavic background, viktor didn't learn how to hold very much liquor without feeling ill, but for some reason is fine with the illicit psychedelics that grow naturally in the undercity near the runoff tunnels. so far the list is nearly half a page long

will not hit anyone with his mobility aids but will ABSOLUTELY find ways to blackmail and hustle his way out of embarrassment. he learned the blackmailing skill from mel, and frequently looks to her for information since she somehow knows the most about the student body

extremely morbid sense of humor. jokes about being fatherless/motherless behavior and then hits you with, "I would know :]." mel is an honorary member of the motherless behavior banter, considering her own mother disowned her shortly before she came to piltover

taking care of one another is equal parts give and take with him, jayce, and mel, but it's never in a way that demeans each other or exploits each other's weaknesses. for example, viktor hates being carried or manhandled without consent and finds it incredibly patronizing if someone assumes he needs help without just asking him (common sense, but the student body is full of ableist sharks). if he's having a bad pain day or is finding it hard to move, he and jayce (or he and mel, depending on time and place) have a system for getting him to or from somewhere without drawing much attention and even have specific "I need help but don't want to be stared at about it" phrases

father's half of the family is slavic and mother's half of the family is romani. cannot follow a recipe unless it has specific measurements, but can improvise ANY stew or potato based dish with little more than his nose and a few kitchen tools. jayce can improvise any dish, but will always somehow overdo the spice if it calls for spice. mel is happy to try any and everything they make (on her birthday, she's spoiled with their attempts at making the ethnic food from her family, and she'll never tell them but she's very touched by their efforts)

owned ONE pet in his life and it was a hamster. instead of freaking out over it's death, he studied it's body post mortem until his father declared it a biohazard and forced him to dispose of it

learned most of his chemists knowledge from a disgraced former academy professor, but taught himself everything else he knows (if he couldn't get access to it in school). including, for fun, how to preserve and analyze body parts. he initially wanted to be a surgeon or biomedical engineer, but then stuck with chemistry (specifically regarding infectious diseases) to try and find a cure for the grey

shows up randomly at jayces or mels dorms at strange hours in the evening/morning. the first time he showed up at mel's, she thought a burglary was being attempted. he made it out with a bad knock to the head, but she did make him tea in the aftermath as an apology (he hated it but drank the whole thing anyway)

gets stoned with jinx on the weekends, since she's the only one who can find him good, ethically sourced weed. he pays her back by teaching her things he's learning and researching at the academy

meljayvik + caitvi + timebomb dates but they have to find a way to rent out the whole place because each and every one of them has Some Kind of History with the other academy students even though jinx and ekko are still a couple years shy of college age

viktor threw up at the distinguished innovators competition because jayce did first. it was a whole disaster. they spent hours after the ordeal hyping each other up on gatorade and pure adrenaline. it was the physically worst jayce has ever felt around viktor but far from the worst viktor has ever felt around jayce. this was just days after the two of them met mel, and she spent the rest of the evening forcing them to sleep or eat something that wasn't "pure chemicals." somehow, this ended in a heated debate between herself and viktor about the validity of gatorade as a substantial meal. he still refuses to admit he lost

I've said this before and I'll say it again: he has a closet full of ramen. mel takes from his stash often

can run on caffeine and very little sleep to the point where he is physically incapable of resting like a normal human being without feeling drained. flu season is absolute hell

showed up to one of his lectures shirtless once because he was in a hurry. fed everyone who looked at him funny the most outrageous sob story about how "weak" he was, then laughed about it with mel and jayce like an absolute sociopath for days about it. jayce did not find it altogether very funny. mel and him still joke about it

beat vi in an arm wrestling contest before he got sick. still almost beat her after his diagnosis too, but still took the betting money anyway. she'll never admit she's slightly terrified of him, but it shows

can wield many different kinds of knives but is terribly clumsy when it comes to other weapons like clubs and swords and staffs. tapped out of adaptive sports within his first week because it was "boring him." spent the next month teaching martial arts to his fellow disabled peers until the board made it an official extracurricular

turned sky down in the nicest but most insane way possible. nobody knows what happened or how, just that they ended up spending MORE time together after the fact and that it involved illicit activities. the rumors were insufferable for weeks. and wildly funny

(please feel free to add more, I'm gonna start a collection)

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 5th

könig x cumming in panties

he’d cornered you when he knew you couldn’t bring yourself to run from him. könig was sick like that.

he’d been depriving you all week. you weren’t too sure on the why, but you figured he was punishing you for something. or maybe he wasn’t, maybe könig had just wanted to toy with you, get you all desperate just for his own twisted entertainment.

on monday, he’d had you speared on his cock— but not allowed to move, and overall not allowed to cum, removing you from his lap when he was finished with his work at the desk and never revisiting, leaving you empty and needy whilst he beats off in the shower. tuesday he’d insisted on teaching you self defensive moves, pinning you with your knees up and dragging his heavy bulge over your puffy slit through your leggings until you’d soaked through the material, and then getting up like it had never happened and even having the audacity to berate you for being distracted.

wednesday, he’d forced his way into your shower and you thought you’d finally get some relief— instead he’d crowded you against the cold tiles, ran his hands over your body greedily, fondled you and kissed you enough to get you whiny — before pulling away, continuing on with his shower as you stand pressed to the tiles panting in disbelief, and climbing out alone. thursday, he’d ignored you completely — which only made you want him and his approval more. it had reached friday, and you were at your breaking point. not only had you reached physical desperation, but you felt emotionally needy and fragile beyond belief too, breath hitching in your throat when you spotted him by the gymnasium on base.

when he spotted you wandering over, his eyes lit up through his hood and he smiled. he smiled and you thought thank god, it’s over. your knees are weak and trembling by the time you reach him, hands clutching his black military issued shirt. “kö,” it comes out as a sweet whine. he tilts his head, hulking frame looming over you as he cups your cheeks gently.

“hmm?” he hums lovingly and you inhale shakily, your own hand laying over his.

“its aching— need you, please. have twenty minutes until my meeting n’i won’t be able to focus.” you press yourself to him, all but begging with tears in your eyes.

“t’aww, schatz.” he whispers hoarsely, taking your waist and walking you backwards into a hallway that no one ever seems to go down. “i can give you something, yes?” he cooes and you nod so furiously you think your head might come off.

he crowds you to a wall, so that if anyone was to enter the hallway, their vision would be obstructed by his giant frame anyway. you don’t know how he’s done it, but he pulls out his cock and it’s already fully hard, thick and pretty in his grasp. he stands with his legs spread wider to lower himself a little, the height difference almost obscene and he runs a thumb over his tip, full balls resting on the waistband of his cargos. you whimper, just from the sight of it.

a low hum leaves his throat and he lets his tip graze your stomach, dragging lazily across the material of your shirt, smearing the slightest bit of precum onto it. “please.” you whisper, teary eyes searching for permission. he tsks, and pulls your skirt up to sit around your waist, gently but slightly impatiently tapping your inner thigh so that you’ll stop pressing them together tightly.

“you missed me, little one?” he questions, pressing his tip harshly over your pantie-covered clit, rubbing it in circles making you buckle.

“mhm, missed you a lot.” your hips jerk off the wall, humping back against his tip. each time you squirm, you can hear the obscene wetness in your panties making you whine in embarrassment. he chuckles harshly, pulling back.

“poor thing.” he responds cooly, accent thick and low. he pulls down the waist band of your panties and stuffs his cock inside making you grip at his clothes so that you don’t totally collapse. gripping your hips, he begins to slowly thrust. the height difference is a slight hinderance, and he’s hunched over you, but once he gets the angle right you’re whimpering helplessly, his cock sliding back and forth over your soaked slit and never once inside.

he has the audacity to laugh, strong arm bracing the wall beside your head as he leans over you, his hood tickling your cheek. “what if someone were to come down this hall, hmm? see my cock stuffed in your little panties. that pussy all needy for the colonel. you would probably like that, yes? you like to show off.” your brain was hazy but the last part rung an alarm in your head. was that what this was about? was he still punishing you?

“just wanna— wanna cum!” you cry, and you’re not aware of the mascara pooling beneath your eyes until he harshly wipes the tears with his fingers and pulls away. you groan, devastated, bleary eyes watching him rub the wetness from your tears against his own shaft. he grabs your wrist, roughly and maybe a little desperately and guides your hand to pull your waistband down a little more, exposing your needy cunt to him.

“hold this. like this.” he sneers and you do, not having the capacity to question him let alone argue. he stops touching you completely, focused on fisting at his own cock, tip aimed down your panties and you sniffle, staring up at him pitifully. you longed to touch him, have him praise you, kiss you — but all he did was stare down his nose at you with his hood still firmly in place as he jerked himself off.

your pleas and wobbling bottom lip only seemed to push him further, and soon — he was cursing, pressing you to the wall with his weight and unloading his balls into your thin delicate panties. you whimper sensitively, looking down at the way his hot seed seeps into the baby pink panties. your brain is mush by this point, and you stare up at him obediently, albeit sadly.

he recovers, jagged pants leaving him as he stands back up to his full height, tucking himself back into his pants. he takes the material of your panties and pulls them firmly back up, his cum pressing against your folds. his big warm hand comes up, rubbing you over your panties to make sure his cum has spread around and you moan at the touch, but as soon as it came it leaves— the hand grabbing your jaw for a moment and looking at you before he steps back, eyeing you with his hands now clasped behind his back. he watches you fumble to adjust your clothes and pull your skirt down, hands and thighs shaking.

“keep that in there all of today. i will come to visit you later on.” with that, he coldly steps aside. oh, he was mean. “off to your meeting. cannot be late now, liebling.”

[jewishvitya]

[This post was originally written in response to someone tagging me and claiming that a free Palestine would mean all Israeli Jews will be kicked out and where will I go, and how they can't understand why I'm so against Israel being our ethnostate. OP blocked me, so I'm reposting with a few edits, because I already wrote this and I might as well.]

Look. I understand your mentality. We're traumatized by a history of violence against us. We were shown that so many in the world want us dead, and so many others won't stop them. I get it. But I refuse to let myself silently become the face of similar oppression for other people.

Israel benefits from antisemitism and maintains myths that got Jewish people killed in the past, like double loyalty. It weaponizes it for propaganda reasons. It's supported by antisemitic Christian zionist organizations with terrifying motivations. It started out with violence not only against Palestinians but against Jews too. Israel isn't motivated by our safety, it abuses that idea. It manipulates and weaponizes our trauma to make us feel justified in causing so much suffering to innocent people.

You're right that I'll have nowhere to go if I'm kicked out of here. This is where I was born. My parents come from other countries that I won't feel safe in. But all of this is hypothetical. The ethnic cleansing and genocide of Palestinians is not hypothetical, it's REALITY. It's happening RIGHT NOW. And I don't understand how, as a Jewish person who knows what this kind of suffering and loss of life means, you seem unable to prioritize that. I tell you I'm witnessing a genocide happening right next to me and you keep telling me "but what if they hurt you instead."

The assumption that Palestinians will pull some sort of reverse ethnic cleansing against us is racist. This assumption is the reason Israel feels comfortable calling the carpet bombing of a civilian population "self defense." Killing them based on a this is not self defense, it's a racially motivated crime against humanity.

And I'm calling it an assumption because I'm not willing to pull from the Hamas charter that they've since replaced. Hamas isn't Palestinians. The only reason they became this powerful is Israeli funding, and Israeli violence giving Hamas free PR as the only ones who will stand up to the state that will keep them trapped and dying.

We control every aspect of their lives. Israel created a place that breeds radicalization. No group of people, living under the conditions forced on Palestinians, would be peaceful. They would fight back. Because peaceful attempts to have the human rights that Israel denies them got nothing. We stomped on every single one. We blocked all other routes and left them with only violence, which Israeli politicians have been using as an excuse for over 15 years to make a show of force with military campaigns whenever they wanted a boost in popularity. We created living conditions with such low life expectancy that half of the population is children because so few adults survive. They don't deserve this. No one deserves this.

Palestine was a land with people living in it. One plot of land can create multiple groups of people, especially when we've been separated for 2000 years. Our connection to this land does not cancel out theirs. Removing them to create our own country could never be right. It's not an argument saying that our connection to Israel gives us the right to move here to live ALONGSIDE Palestinians. That's not what we wanted. We wanted a country that enforces Jewish majority and legally prioritizes Jews. You're justifying this when I repeatedly state that the only way for it to exist is through ethnic cleansing and genocide. There's no way to make this concept into a reality without killing, displacing, and oppressing whoever's left in various different ways, from apartheid to other kinds of discrimination.

I'm not against safety for us. I want to be safe. I want my children to grow in a safe world where we can be openly and joyfully Jewish. I'm not willing to pay for that with the lives and freedoms of other people.

So I will be loud about this: Palestinians deserve to be free in every part of their homeland, even if it's our ancestral homeland too.

If safety for us means we're the ones committing the genocide, maybe we should rethink what safety looks like.

I'm terrified for the lives of millions of people in Gaza. Right now, all I can think about is this, and it baffles me to see people so willing to transfer the horrors of our history to other people.

I had a lovely conversation in DMs in response to the first post, about how zionism encourages us to isolate rather than build bridges in the places where we live all over the world. We can't ignore the way antisemitism saturates culture, but we should also remember the places where Jewish communities thrived for centuries, the places where our neighbors protected us. We're hated, and we're loved. Each form of oppression is unique, so no other group experiences what Jewish people do exactly, but we're not alone. We have a long and rich history of solidarity with other marginalized communities and involvement in liberation movements. We're actively working to make the world safer, and we have people fighting with us. I'm just participating in this fight where I am. The struggle for liberation is a human struggle. You can't use the trauma of antisemitism to silence me about other kinds of bigotry.

Never again. To ANYONE.

[moongreenlight]

What if your brain tells you that nurse!reader from the previous fic was on the field with the boys as an on call medic and gets taken as a POW and ghost is losing his fucking mind?? - like actual feral behavior

Ohhhhhhhhhmygod. Hi? I’m in your walls. So mad I didn’t see this before because I’ve been SLAVING over a Simon fic all week and this apparently is the motivation I needed to put some more batshit insane things on the internet forever.

We all know that Simon is a fucking machine. Prides himself on his ability to essentially turn off his humanity on the field. But for some reason his nurse!reader is the one thing that interrupts that ability. Even seeing you treating a few rowdy privates gets him worked up. Lingers around the medbay in his free time for no apparent reason just to side eye your patients and glare at them to make sure there’s absolutely no possibility of you getting hurt.

There was probably an occasion where you were treating a soldier who didn’t fare well with pain. Moaning and crying and thrashing while you did something simple like tuck their arm into a sling, and they somehow writhed around enough to hook you in the cheek with their elbow. Nothing serious, but it left an angry red mark on your cheek for so long that he caught it on one of your evening walks around base. Usually after dark so you could both avoid being found out.

And then the next day you see Simon dragging that same soldier to a different nurse’s bed under the armpits. Explaining gruffly that he went unconscious because he couldn’t handle training. (He made the poor bastard run the track in full tactical gear on one of the hottest days of the year for nearly an hour straight. No water. No breaks.)

You were the kindest, softest thing he’d ever come in contact with. Something he never thought he’d be able to find in this lifetime after so much hate and anger and pain. He couldn’t risk losing you, which is why he was so strict on his saying no to you joining the task force on the field. The shit they did was dangerous. Immensely so. And this brought up two main points for Simon.

One; he wouldn’t be able to focus on the task at hand knowing you were out. He slept with one eye open when you were nestled close to his chest and snoring softly in the comfort of your own home that he’d all but booby-trapped home alone style. No fucking way he’d allow you out into hostile territory with only a introductory understanding of self-defense. He’d be on pins and needles the entire mission. Probably get the entire squad killed because he’d constantly be looking over his shoulder for you.

Two; it would rip him to shreds if he lost you. You were the only person he truly saw as an equal. The first time the two of you met, he was probably being angsty and rude because he did something to land himself in the medbay, and when he refused to take off his tact vest so you could listen to his heart and lungs, you all but held him at scalpel-point and threatened him within an inch of his life until he finally submitted. After that he was fucking hooked. Obsessed with the way you could get brutes like him to roll over and show you their belly like obedient dogs. And you were kind to him. Immeasurably kind. Dealt with his mood swings and took the time to get to know him. Suffered through the impossibly long process of him letting his guard down.

So if somehow his orders were ignored, it was almost certain that you’d be given strict orders to keep your involvement under wraps. Price would have enough of an idea of the situation to keep the two of you on opposite schedules in the days leading up to deployment. Minimize the possibility of you letting slip that you’d be coming along to preserve not only the integrity of his team but also his quality of life.

It would seem like a regular day to Simon at first. Loading into the helo before dawn, sitting between Johnny and Gaz and trying to tune them out while they snarked at one another across him. And then Price would come on looking guilty as sin. You could practically smell it coming off him. Leaning both his arms on the open door and signaling the driver to start the engine for a quick take off in case Simon decided to abandon ship in his outrage.

He’d give some spiel about teamwork and the importance of focusing on the mission and whatever other bullshit he thought would keep Simon the most level headed. Spewing on and on until Gaz finally cut him off with a pointed yawn. At which point he’d give the group one last look, lingering the longest on the ghost mask, before stepping aside to reveal you.

Dressed up in a uniform that looked about a size too big. Tailored as best it could be in the short notice. Pants chopped and hemmed to make them a manageable length, belt pulled as tight as it could go around your waist. Strapped into a vest that was loaded with medical supplies instead of weapons. Two pistols holstered on your either side.

Simon was beyond livid. Spouting steam like a cartoon bull. Staggering to stand when the chopper took off and stalking over to the cockpit where Price sat and tried to look casual.

Gave him a fucking earful. Screaming over the roar of the engine into the earpiece on a private channel for the entire two hour long flight. Bitching about paperwork and dead weight and how it’s just another person he’ll need to look after and he doesn’t want to. It’s almost impressive. Price doesn’t get a word in sideways. Gets shut down immediately if he even dares to open his mouth.

And he’s a monster when he finds out you’ve been taken POW. Circled by the enemy team like ravenous wolves finding a wounded deer. Soap and Gaz both have to pin him down when Price breaks the news. Seeing fucking red.

A large part of me thinks he internalizes a lot of the torture he went through in the comics. Letting it sit and fester inside him like the worst kind of poison that it took him years to meticulously extract from his very being and carefully contain into a small vial. Laying dormant in the back of his mind for a moment like this. He had no idea what the enemy wanted with you, so he had to assume the worst.

Storms their base by himself. Sniffs you out through a maze of bunkers and underground tunnels and infinitely many heavily secured doors. And the rest of the force just watches his six. Stands back feeling a little nauseous, but letting him blaze down his war path. Any and everyone who gets in his way is guilty unless they can prove their innocence- and they don’t get the chance. Runs through all his ammo gunning down countless grunts and privates stationed outside the base of planted as decoys. Specifically demanding that Price be the one to give up his weapons and ammo so he can continue on. And it’s the one time that the captain allows him to snarl orders like that.

Price knows that Simon is, in his core, a fighting dog. Rescued by the force and given an opportunity to channel his aggression into a more productive outlet. And now it seems all his hard work and training is coming unraveled. Watching Simon once again snap his jaws and bare his teeth, killing without rhyme or reason to get you back, is jarring to say the least. So in some last-ditch effort to preserve some of the trust that they’d built, he surrenders. Shows his belly. Shrugs off his rifle with no objection other than the way his mouth drew into a tight line.

Simon kicks through heavy metal reinforced doors without the need for a battering ram. Pushes himself well past the point of exhaustion. Fueled purely off the instinctual need to recover you. He can’t speak. Can’t eat. Can’t drink. Can’t stop.

He’d mow through the first few ranks of soldiers until they finally found someone that looked like they’d have at least a sliver of useful information and beat them within an inch of their life until they gave up the information that would eventually lead him to you.

In all honesty, you were probably taken with the intent to lure them in. Not anticipating your absence would have such an impact. Kept you bound in a guarded room. Roughed up a bit just from your struggle, but they hadn’t had time to interrogate you before they got word that 141 was coming in wild and sideways.

This would send Simon even further into madness. Body aching, bleeding from his knuckles. His knees and shoulders screaming their protest when he broke down the door, sending it crashing into the room. And the first thing he sees is you huddled in a corner blindfolded and bound with handcuffs that were cutting into your wrists from your trying to escape. He’d be an entirely different person. (I am giggling and kicking my feet.)

He wouldn’t even bother wasting time with the rifle. He’d handle what few guards were left with his bare hands. Possessed by some kind of superhuman strength. Catching a second wind the moment he laid eyes on you. He’d rush over, the rest of the boys standing guard in the hallway, and break you free from your restraints.

And as much as I would want him to be sweet and coddle you and coo over you, he’d probably be riding such a high that he wouldn’t be able to. He’d immediately start in on you, but with significantly less ferocity than he had with Price.

“You got a fuckin’ death wish? Think they’d turn you into a martyr for bein’ a medic on the field? Real original fuckin’ concept, yeah?”

He’d pull you in close to him, giving you an incredibly detailed once over. Inspecting your face and neck and arms legs for any further damage, and once he determined after three checks that all your wounds were purely superficial, he’d allow his hands to shake just slightly when he smoothed your hair back off your forehead.

[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day twenty-one

toto wolff - degradation kink

cw: smut/pwp, dom/sub, age gap (20/50), bratty!reader, groping, dirty talk/degrading language, doggy style, hair pulling

kink-o-ween master-list

toto tapped his foot as he watched you by your joyful self. while another man would find it endearing, but not the older, wiser toto wolff. he had over two decades over you, he could see the tricks of a dumb little girl.

"treasure." he said, standing up a little straighter. so you'll look away from your flirty interaction with the mechanic next to you and towards your lover. but when you didn't he whistled to your like you were a dog.

and like an obedient puppy, you looked over. you perked up with shock and toto just grinned.

you were on your stomach in the your hotel room with your shirt (toto's shirt) pulled up and exposed your round ass to the older man. your panties were still on but pulled past the cheeks to give toto a lot of room to grope and feel. toto wasn't a gentle lover, it wasn't in him to do so. the years made him yearn for a squirming younger lover who he could twist to his liking.

and you in turn loved when older men spoke down to you and bullied you and your cunt into an absolute submission. to be marked and in away owned by an older man. especially a man like him. his words were often filthy, degrading you until you were a whimpering mess. your words of defense died on your tongue which only spurred him on.

"you are a bad girl." he looked at you like you were a piece of meat. "nothing but a whore, but i guessed i'm not wrong about that. you only care about cock. you are cock hungry." he grabbed your cheek roughly and your back arched.

you replied, "no, no." you tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he kept you onto the bed. toto wouldn't let you get that far away from him.

"yes, yes, schatzi." you are a little slut. you love the attention of older men. any man who'll look at you." his voice was a growl and you felt the reverberations through your body.

you whimpered at his words and you were forced to tilted your head to the side to let him kiss your neck. it made you shiver.

"but, it's okay." he said before he laid a smack on your ass. he was in an undershirt and his dark briefs. and you were just in the shirt and panties. near naked on the lavish bed. he pressed more kisses against you before he took the shirt off of your body. his lips trailed down your back, "it's okay that you're a whore. because you're my slut. beautiful little slut."

you squirmed, but when toto let go of you, you didn't move away. he stripped himself of his clothes. you felt his hungry gaze on you as you raised your hips a little higher. he made a soft groaning noise.

you reached behinf yourself and got your panties down your ass and exposed your slick, sweet pussy to him.

"so well behaved. maybe too well behaved." he said which made you moan, "maybe it's time to put my treasure on a tighter leash." and he lined his cock with your pussy and sank down into you to the base. he felt perfectly, after all the times, he had to work your pussy to accommodate him. you were made perfect for his heavy cock now.

now he could get into you with ease.

"no one else could fuck you right, not like me." he said his volume was a little lower, but the tone was stern. it made your toes curl.

toto yanked your hair to pull your head away from the soft pillows. he asked, "now, schatzi. wirst du dich benehmen? you'll be a good girl for me?" you knew enough german to understand the question.

you nodded, "yes, i will be good for you." you whined, then he grasped your hair a little tighter. you whined, "fuck, honey."

"word words are music to my ears. i know you enjoy when i touch you like this. when i call you named, when i'm mean. i bet you tell all your friends about how spoiled you are."

your head was dropped back towards the covers while toto fucked you with a feverish pace. he was in control and you loved it. the domineering presence of his movements made you feel hot.

he continued to rut up inside of you. he was pulled in by your sweet noises, to egg him on. your sweet noises and sweeter cunt.

"schatzi." he said, a voice like honey as he hit the deepest parts of you. his cock bullied up into you. he saw you try to grasp the covers. the next time he'd bind your arms behind your back.

the pleasure bled into your core and it left you breathless. your were near drooling on the sheets. your back arched further as you felt the wetness between your legs grow.

"i need you, i want you. and i don't want anyone else to have you. you're mine. to sink my teeth into you. i have to find a way to keep me from flirting with you. a ring, maybe? a collar? maybe the scent of my cum on your breath."

his words only turned you on further and you pathetically gasped into the sheets. the pleasure was all so much and you loved it.

"please, toto." you whined. you very being yearned for him. you moaned and the pleasure overrode everything else in your head. you could feel the throb in your core, maybe toto's words were true. that you were a slut, but you were only toto's slut. no one else's.

"perfect for me." he said, "beyond words." it only sent you over the head. pleasure gripped you and you climaxed.

"please, toto!" you moaned loudly as you felt the pleasure grip you and radiate through your body.

toto was further aroused and pushed further into you. he got you to an angle that made you see stars. he fucked you until he got every inch inside of you with a final thrust. he finished inside of you. he panted heavily through his nose and he moved you up and down on his cock a few more times.

he curled over you and kissed your sweaty back while you basked in the after shivers of sex. when he finished kissing you, he laid out beside you on the bed. you grabbed him by the face to kiss him while you both laid in bed together. he draped an arm around your waist.

"am i a slut?" you asked.

he pushed your hair and kissed your forehead, "mmm, schatzi. you may be something. but i know regardless of how much you flirt. you will always end up in my bed at the end of the day. because you are mine." <3

[claudiafrankie]

Pick a Card: Why Can't You Get Them Out of Your Head? What is the Nature of This Connection?

DISCLAIMER: TAROT IS NOT AN EVIDENCE-BASED PRACTICE. YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF MAKING YOUR OWN DECISIONS.

Pile 1: The Ring

Pile one, there is a lot going on here!! Are you doing ok?? lol

There is a lot of confusion and fear on your side of this connection. I want you to know that you're not crazy, this person feels it too. The oracle card that came up for you to go with the Ring card was connection: "There is a wonderfully satisfying feeling in connecting with another being. Whether it be through a partnership, friendship, or collaboration within a community, find places of intersection among like-minded souls and meet them with your authenticity. Notice how they mirror your passions." (From the Illuminated Earth Oracle Deck by Claire Mack)

So yeah they feel some type of way about you too. The cards that came up representing your energy in the connection: The Moon and the Six of Cups. You feel very intuitively connected to this person, maybe even wondering if you knew them from a past life or something - if you believe in that. I think Childhood wounds are being triggered by this person and you are struggling to deal with that. You might feel like your sense of self worth lies in this person's hands - how they interact with you on a given day colors how that day goes for you.

There is a lot of heart-centered energy on your side. I think you really like this person. A lot. You feel a strong desired to merge with them, to be in their presence, to feel the exchange and experience the bond. Yeah there is just a deep yearning coming from your side. And I feel like I need to ask you - are your actions based in reality? How much do you daydream about this person? Are you comfortable with the amount of mental space they take up in your life? I think you love love and you love to love, just make sure your pointing it at the right person my love. You shouldn't have to feel like shit about yourself because this person signs a message with a period at the end when they normally don't use punctuation or finishes their messages to you with exclamation points. There is a danger of codependency here, but I think you already know that as well as how to protect yourself emotionally.

This person is showing up as the Eight of Swords and Death. They feel the changes they are being called to make by this connection and it freaks them the fuck out. They don't see how they have the ability to shape their own reality when it comes to this connection and could be feeling somewhat victimized and powerless. They could be going through an uncomfortable metamorphosis in their life due to external forces like stuff with their family or at work. I think they are changing, just slowly. I definitely wouldn't hang your hat on this person making an overnight 180. I don't think you are the type to expect that, but when you are experience such a deep longing to connect with someone it is easy to get frustrated with the pace things are moving at.

The shared energy between the two of you is the star. Yeah this connection is bringing in a healing crisis for both of you. There is hope for a positive future for this connection on both sides, and a sense that it could be mutually loving and again, deeply healing. I think they do think about you quite a bit too. I'm being drawn to how the woman on the star card is focused on the vase of water she is pouring into the pond, and looking away from the vase she empties onto the ground beside her. It's like the same vibe as when you're pouring a glass of water and space out and overfill it and it overflows onto the counter.

How they see you is the Seven of Wands. They see that you have your guard up and know how to defend yourself if need be. They see you as a fighter and someone who does not easily give up. Perhaps overly defensive at times. Flighty, touchy, they think you have been hurt before and are not fully healed from that and that that is affecting your relationship with them. Someone stubborn, for better or worse. How they feel for you is the Page of Pentacles. They feel curious about you and like they want to know more about you, but they are in control of their emotions when it comes to you and are staying realistic. I think they will continue to give to this relationship, just in small increments. They might offer you help soon, or give you a small gift, bring a positive message to you or an idea that the two of you can collaborate on. They feel like they can have fun with you, but there isn't really a serious vibe when it comes to their feelings tbh - this is a page. So either their feelings are light and realistic when it comes to you, or this is all they are allowing themselves to experience emotionally when it comes to you.

I think there could be a third party going on here. The Queen of Cups and the Queen of Swords kept showing up when I was shuffling and they were back to back on the bottom of the deck when I was done pulling your cards. If you know this person is already in a relationship that is definitely informing their behavior and actions when it comes to you. They aren't stupid, and aren't going to make any hasty decisions about their future because of this connection.

Take care pile 1, I know this wasn't the most positive message. Yeah just be discerning and make sure you aren't getting swept away with your fantasies. Unless you want to. It's your life.

Pile 2: The Letter

There is really strong collaborative energy between the two of you. I think the way you two communicate has a lot more going on under the surface than what is detectable on the outside. The connection is transforming you both. I think you want different things out of this connection and this causes some confusion between the two of you.

I think you are coming at this from an emotion-centered place. You are showing up as the King of Cups, them as the Queen of Swords. I like this for you because the kings in the tarot, for myself and many others, represent outer mastery of their element. They have surpassed the internal mastery of the queen and are now capable of guiding others, showing them how to conduct themselves honorably.

You are deeply emotional about this person but you are not letting it sway you. You have reached a point in your personal growth where you are able to recognize when the intense feelings that this connection brings up arise, and, more importantly, just let those feelings exist. I think you are just letting it all move through you, not getting attached to one feeling about this person or relationship because you have begun integrating the wisdom that emotions are fluid and change all the time. I think this is knowledge you have possessed for quite awhile, but you are now beyond just knowing this in your brain and you are now applying it to your actions.

I think you know that this person knows that you have deep feelings for them. I think you also have had experiences in the past where people have taken advantage of your deep feelings for them. And I think this is part of the reason why you are the master of your emotions now - no one gets to leech off of your love and affection anymore. No one gets to wield some sort of high ground over you because they know you're into them. You can be so super into someone and still see their human-ness. You can have the biggest crush on someone and still see their flaws. You have found a beautiful balance of respect for yourself and care for others.

You are seeing this person as the Six of Cups. I think you see who they really are and you view them fondly, you can sense their inner teenager and inner child, and you can kind of look at the different layers of their personality and how they fit together. Maybe you interact with this person in group settings or just with other people around. I think you get this person one-on-one and you also see how they vibe with other people. You see what they keep close to their chest and what they put on display. I think, even though you are in this emotional and somewhat vulnerable position when it comes to this person, you are still able to kind of have that "aw you're so cute" vibe towards them. Like even though they may be mostly a detached/logical person, you can see beyond that and know that to some degree they are probably just protecting themselves and a soft inner core.

Like I said, this person is the Queen of Swords. How they see you is the Ace of Swords. They think you're smart as shit, first of all. I'm not sure if this person is one to dish out compliments or is maybe on the proud side, but they think you're highly intelligent. They have genuine respect for you. I think they think that you could really cut them deeply if you wanted to.

Something I'm noticing is that they are represented by the Queen of Swords, who is holding an upright sword in her right hand with her left hand raised and extended outwards, as if instructing a class or relaying a complex, difficult, or maybe important message. They way they see you is the ace of swords. I feel like they feel powerful when you are around them and give them attention. I think too that they see that they have things to teach you, just like they have been learning from you.

There is an interesting balance between the two of you. You are showing up as a masculine figure in a feminine suit, while they show up as a feminine figure in a masculine suit. They could be somewhat aloof and cold, keeping you at a distance. I think you are really strong in yourself and they see that their distance does not threaten you. They see that you are happy to do your own thing and give them their space.

I think they're a little afraid of you lmao. Again the vibe that you could really rip them to shreds if you wanted too, but you're better than that.

I think this connection is very much in the process of unfolding. It could feel like the vibes are different each day with this person. The letter being the card you picked, I think there is news on the way regarding this person/your relationship with them. I think you will soon have a much better understanding of where you truly stand with them and how they feel about you. You also got the Death card representing the shared energy between you and this person. Things are definitely changing, so I would say keep doing what you're doing and stay in control of your emotional world. It seems like you might be in a little bit of 'growing up' process with this person, so give yourself grace and keep yourself accountable. Also it might be good to find solutions for your eating habits. Like if you struggle eating regular healthy meals, try some super easy recipes that taste good and make you feel good. With all this shifting and changing you are going through, your body needs to be looked after.

Take care pile 2, you're doing a great job :)

Pile 3: The Dog (18+)

Hmmmm pile number 3. Why can't you get this person off your mind... I am having a weird time getting into the vibe of this pile. I started and then felt like overtaken by someone else in my energetic field so I started over and moved to my bed to write this so I could be more comfortable. I've cleansed with palo santo like 3 times lol and I still feel weird and anxious.

I think this is someone that you had an argument with. Either that or you have to suppress parts of yourself to not argue with them. It could also be someone that has your back in a fight or is angry on your behalf? Idk I am really struggling to pick up the storyline here.

Ok. I think this is what it is. This is someone that you have friendzoned lmao. BUT you feel horny for them. Actually both of you guys want to get together... But I think from your perspective something about the situation is inappropriate? So you're being the level-headed one and being like... hm I do really want to jump into bed with you. But I also value peace and mental stability lol. I think you're being mature about this, and keeping this person's sexual energy at bay. I think you're being pretty grounded about the whole thing too, and not like thinking that you're a bad person for having sexual thoughts about this person. You can accept that you're experiencing this and that it's totally natural. But you also are logical and not letting your own physical desires steer your life. You have some solid impulse control, I'll give you that!

OMG yeah, how I was saying I had to restart because I kept feeling like someone was all in my business? That's this person. Like I think you are into them physically, but this person is like bombarding you with sexual energy. LMAO and youre just like:

Hahahahahaha you guys are funny. I think this person thinks you're crazy hot first and foremost but they do like your personality too. It feels so super sexual though that like yeah they like you but they wanna go at it like animals. I'm not getting a predatory vibe, but it does feel somewhat objectifying. If you are in the mood to have someone slobber all over you you have found your match. This would definitely be a FWB situation... I don't think this person really sees too far past your physicality. But damn. They like what they see. This person is a horn dog dude lol I think they could be placing you on a bit of a pedestal. Like 'this person is so hot that they are not human and therefore I can't interact with them/connect with them on a human level."

I think there is friendship between you two, you do get along pretty well. The tarot cards that came up for you guys are the Ace of Cups, Justice, and the Two of Swords. This person does have affection for you, but they are fickle. They keep going back and forth in their mind about what they want. I think there are other things going on in their life that are contributing to this, and they feel really frustrated that they can't swoop in and just do what they want with you (to you?? lol).

There's all this pent-up energy, and this person is driving themselves a little insane. I think the air between the two of you could be kind of stale or stagnant, with not much going on and nothing really changing. You're handling this fine and doing your own thing, pouring into yourself. You are trying to be amicable with this person but I think they make it difficult sometimes. Like they know how they are coming at you is a little much and they also can feel you saying in so many words that "IIIIII don't think this is a good idea, sorry... but we can be friends??" I think they could pretend to be surprised that you are treating them a little bit like an HR representative because maybe they aren't doing anything overt to warrant that response, but you feel their intentions and how one-track-minded they can be. I think sometimes it flatters you and you have a giggle enjoying a fantasy and then other times you're like "bro come on please can we just watch the show" and then other times you're like "honestly keep it in your pants (figuratively) and grow the fuck up."

So... why can't you get them off your mind? Because they can't get you off of theirs. I think this person is very intense and like gets fixated. So if you are looking for advice I would say to sure, enjoy the attention, but don't get too attached to it or let it get to your head (at least not so much that it's obvious lol) and definitely don't expect this person to take kindly to offers of friendship... they are probably the type to sulk when you maneuver around their sexual advances or sexual energy. So if you don't want to deal with that then don't haha be forewarned.

Take care pile 3, you got it going onnn lol