#and that is what makes me write the good shit

[bi-writes]

hi! i was thinking if you could write an older!boyfriend simon x reader BUT reader is john price's daughter so is kinda of a forbidden and secret relationship !!!! they've been dating for a long time now until john finds out !!!!!

18+

"how is she?"

"doing well, john. but you don't have to worry about her anymore, you know that right? she's not yours to worry about."

"she is mine. i know she's not..." john huffs. "she may not be blood, but she's mine, yeah? so when i ask 'ow she is, you tell me, kate. can we agree on that?"

"sure, john. she's in georgia. her russian got very good. if you want to know my honest opinion, i think she'll be one of my best."

"well...i wouldn't stand for anythin' less."

"john?"

that voice is music to him. he turns, taking his hat off, and he laughs, genuinely, when he sees you. his whole face lights up, and you make your way to him. it's been months since you've seen him in person--even though he makes you send him constant updates about what you're doing and where you are, you find yourself missing this man and the warmth he gives off whenever you are in his proximity.

he's always looked at you so kindly. he's always taken care of you. whenever you pick up the phone, he's always answered.

"'ello, bug."

he crushes you in a warm hug. he puts a hand on the back of your neck and holds you to his chest, and the tension in his shoulders deflates now that he has you with him.

"hi, john. miss me?"

"well...you were the only one with sense in my house."

"you live alone, john."

"aye."

he pours you a hot cup of tea before he makes you tell him all about your new posting. most of it is classified, and you tell him that, but his face lights up when you talk about the new skills you're learning and all the opportunities that kate is giving you. his face scrunches a little when you talk about the more dangerous ops, but john never has the same regard for his own life.

the mess hall gets busy once dinner time rolls around. his men were not expecting you, and that much is clear when they see their captain even enjoying a meal in public and not secluded in his office. you smile at his sergeants, but when your gaze lingers a little longer on the doors, johnny just nudges you with his elbow.

"miss the big guy?"

"what? no."

"he had a long night last night," he wiggles his eyebrows at gaz, who just laughs a little. "i might need to try the whole brooding, scary look LT has got on. attracts the most bonnie things, fuckin' christ."

your plate flies when you stab at your food too hard. the cutlery clatters as it hits the floor, and you jump a little, swallowing.

"are you alright, bug?"

"huh? yeah, oh...yeah, just...fucking clumsy. i...i'm gonna...find the toilet."

the blood is rushing in your ears as you make your way out. you're vibrating, hot inside, and you feel him before you see him, even in your anger.

when he pulls you into the shadow of a nearby supply closet, you swipe the blade out of your boot and hold it up against his throat. even through the mask, the blade bites, and he hisses as you hold him up against the wall there.

"don't fucking touch me," you snarl, and ghost's eyes are bright and alive as he holds his hands up defensively.

"wot--"

"and don't what me," you snap. "actually, don't fucking talk at all, you cheating, manipulative, british piece of shit--"

"look so pretty," he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. "did you do y'r hair, baby?"

"i will kill you."

"'s olright. last thing i see'll be you."

"i'm not fucking kidding, simon!"

he bends a little, tilting his head, and you breathe out through your nose as he leans his forehead against yours.

"reckon ya spoke t'johnny."

you scoff. "told me all about your winnings last night, lieutenant."

"was no winnings, love, don't be so fuckin' naïve." simon swipes at the handle of the blade, curling his gloved fingers around your wrist and forcing it away from him. "y'r just mad cause y'r cunt missed me."

"don't flatter yourself, asshole."

"so if i pull your knickers down right now, y'won't be drippin', swee'eart?"

"that's irrelevant."

"'s not. turn around and bend over."

simon's sorry, so he eats your pussy from behind. he gets down on his knees, and the crack of them satisfies you immensely, up until you feel his mouth between your cheeks, tongue slicking up your folds. you brace yourself against the wall, palms flat against the concrete as he puts two gloved hands against your ass and spreads you wide to fit himself nicely there. he hums, groans, makes you whine as he slurps obscenely into your cunt, laving at the drip of you until the taste of you floods his mouth.

"simon..." you whimper. "tell me i-it's not true."

he presses a wet kiss to your ass, biting it firm.

"'s not true, love. promise."

"fuck your promises," you sniffle. "you're a professional liar."

"tha' 'ow it's gonna be, innit? not gonna trust me? believe me?"

you rest your forehead against the cool wall, and the shadow of him envelopes you when he stands. he grunts a little as he gets to his feet. his big hands squeeze at the curve of your waist, and you close your eyes when you feel his breath against your neck.

"i'm sorry, simon."

"for wot?"

"i just...i like you so much. so much."

"come 'ere," he murmurs in your ear. he pulls your hips back, pressing your ass against his pelvis, and you dig your nails into the wall when you hear his belt buckle and zipper. "my pretty girl. my pretty, pretty girl."

"i missed you s-so much, simon."

"i know, love. quiet now. someone'll hear."

it's not the worst place you've fucked. you've snuck quickies in the rec room. behind the mess hall. met up in filthy gas station toilets, fallen into the backseat of a car in the parking lot of numerous military bases. even once, you deigned to suck his dick in his office, and you had to hide behind his couch when john came in to ask about an op.

john had a rule. his men were off-limits. he should've thought about that before he hired a man straight out of your wet dreams for his stupid fucking task force.

you're weak. and simon is a man.

inevitable.

you're a mile into pound-town when someone interrupts. simon is cock-deep inside of you, pelvis up against your ass, one hand braced around your throat and the other squeezing your ass. your eyes are rolled back into your head, and there's drooling coming out of your mouth. it's hot, disgusting, filthy to let him have you like this, but it's been weeks since you've seen him, and the phone calls aren't enough.

you love talking to him. you love when he talks to you. he'll never be annoying to you, you'll never get tired of him, but the distances hurts. you want simon to be all around you--inside of you, against you, his voice in your ear and his mouth against yours and his warmth your only sheet, but you can't bring yourself to do more than this.

you're too afraid of disappointing people. you're too scared of simon's rejection. if your relationship is nothing but fun, nothing but sex, you can pretend it isn't real, but you're just lying to yourself now.

you babble, and it sounds like love, but then the hallway light blinds you, and familiar blue eyes nearly kill you.

"jesus christ!"

simon puts his body in front of yours to cover you, using a harsh boot to kick the door closed. you squeak, covering your face with your hands, and you groan audibly as simon pants against your back.

"fuck--" you gasp. "oh...fuck, fuck, fuck!"

simon buries his face into the crook of your neck, laughing a little.

"bloody hell," he breathes. "reckon we're fucked, huh, love?"

"it's not funny, simon! we're in so much trouble!"

"well..." he squeezes your throat gently, tilting your head back. "could still finish. no sense in pretendin' now."

"you are not going to come when he's probably waiting for us outside."

"i'm balls deep in my favorite girl," simon mutters. "could come just fine. just say the word."

"you're disgusting."

"mmm..." simon squeezes your hips. "keep talkin'. i like when y'talk t'me like tha'."

"fucking asshole."

"yeah...yeah."

"you stupid, immature, unhinged pain in my ass--"

"fuck."

well.

you're definitely never leaving this room.

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

“vickie!” eddie practically screams from his kitchen, rage coursing through him as he stares down at the tabloids spread out in front of him on the counter. “get in here! now!”

eddie’s had an issue with his rage lately. well. he’s had an issue with a lot of things, since he got famous, really. but that’s not his problem right now.

his problem is he’s looking down at image after image of himself on the covers of people and us weekly and entertainment tonight being dragged out of last night’s night club by his own security team with blood pouring from his nose. he looks angry. he looks crazed.

just then, a stranger walks into his kitchen.

“who the fuck are you?” he blurts out at the man, who’s wearing a dark green sweater vest over a white t-shirt and tortoise-shell glasses.

“i’m steve,” the weirdo stalker says, smiling brightly. he has surprisingly swoopy hair for an insane fan. “i’m your new assistant.”

“where’s vickie?” eddie asks, rubbing at the sore spot on his nose. thank god it’s not broken.

“you fired her,” steve tells him. “two days ago.”

“i fire her all the time.”

“ok, well… i guess this time it stuck,” steve shrugs. “chrissy hired me.”

“fucking chrissy,” eddie says under his breath, rolling his eyes. he pulls out his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and speed dials chrissy. “chris, what the fuck?” he doesn’t even give her the chance to say hello.

“good morning, eddie. i’m doing really well, how are you?”

“not fucking well, that’s how i am!” eddie practically yells into the receiver. “what the fuck? did you see the pictures? and who the fuck is this guy in my house?”

“yes, eddie, i saw the pictures.” eddie can hear the eye roll in her voice. “we’re handling it. nancy’s already on it with the team. what was the other thing?”

eddie knows she’s fucking with him and that pisses him off even more. “who is this freak in my house wearing a goddamn sweater vest?!” he feels like a blood vessel in his eye is about to pop.

“hey,” steve protests softly from across the kitchen where he’s started to pull shit out of eddie’s fridge. he didn’t even know there was anything in that fridge.

“that’s not a very nice way to talk about your new assistant,” chrissy’s voice comes loud and clear through the phone.

“christina fucking cunningham, you know i have final say on all hiring decisions when it comes to my assistants.” he rubs at his sore nose again.

“you had final say on all hiring decisions until you fired vickie for the thirteenth time and she refused to come back, even with a three hundred percent raise. we’re going in a different direction now.” chrissy sounds entirely too pleased with herself.

“well, i fucking hate him,” eddie grumbles and watches steve to make sure he’s heard him. steve doesn’t even react, just continues doing whatever the fuck he’s doing with the frying pan he’d found in the cabinet.

“you don’t even know him, eddie. give him a chance. anyway, i have to go, i have brunch plans with my very beautiful, very intelligent, perfect fiancée,” chrissy tells him, gloating, before hanging up on him.

eddie wants desperately to throw his phone across the kitchen, but if he breaks this one that would be his fourth phone in three weeks and he couldn’t bear to have to ask this steve person to go buy him a new one. he settles for squeezing it in his hand until it creaks while taking several deep breaths through his nose.

“what are you doing?” he grits out.

“are you always this rude?” steve asks, ignoring his question.

“to weirdo freak strangers showing up in my house unannounced? yes.”

“it’s not unannounced, chrissy wrote it on your calendar.” steve gestures toward the paper calendar hanging on the side of the fridge where chrissy writes his major life events and which eddie mostly just ignores before sliding a plate full of food toward eddie.

“what is this?” eddie sneers.

“it’s an omelette with cheese and mushrooms,” steve replies, smiling. he’s always fucking smiling.

“i’m allergic to… omelettes,” eddie says, just to be a dick.

“no you’re not. you’re allergic to blueberries and dust.” steve doesn’t stop smiling pleasantly.

“did you get access to my medical records? that’s a violation of my… whatever rights.” eddie waves a hand through the air.

“no, i didn’t go look at your medical records, jesus. i’m not a stalker. chrissy told me when she hired me.”

“whatever. i still fucking hate you.”

“okay,” steve shrugs again. “eat your breakfast.”

eddie has every intention of leaving the kitchen, full plate of food and all, but. he is hungry.

so he eats.

and he’s pissed that it’s actually good.

~*~

eddie spends the rest of the day being a general nuisance to steve any time he tries to do his job. when steve answers the phone before handing it to eddie, eddie “accidentally” hangs up on whoever it is on the hand off & makes sure to blame his new assistant when the person finally calls back. when steve has to drive him to his meeting with nancy and the pr team, eddie tries to give him the wrong directions, but steve’s too smart for that. when steve has to do the grocery shopping, he makes steve go to the erewhon all the way across town during rush hour because the one down the street “just doesn’t have the same vibe, steve.”

and all the while, steve just does his job, still smiling, not getting angry at all even though it’s beyond obvious eddie’s being a little shit to him.

which honestly just pisses eddie off more than anything else today.

“here’s some aspirin,” steve says, placing two white pills on the coffee table in front of eddie, along with a mason jar of water. eddie, lounging on his big squishy couch, pulls the ice pack away from his nose, which has started throbbing again. “you didn’t have any glasses.” steve shrugs when he sees eddie’s arched eyebrow looking skeptically at the jar of water. “if you don’t need anything else, i’ll take off for the day.”

it’s past 8pm already, long after steve should have left for the day except that eddie had made him stay to organize his extensive tshirt collection by color, shade, and design before he could even think about going home. it was an emergency, after all.

“i’ll have to check the t-shirt closet first,” eddie replies, before swallowing the aspirin dry. steve shrugs again and rolls his eyes. eddie would say something about his blatant rudeness, but he’s too exhausted.

eddie pulls himself off the couch and makes his way down the hallway to his “t-shirt room.” it’s so stupid, but he has all this space and he’d started collecting the tshirts so long ago. they’re not worth anything, they’re just his wardrobe but… they remind him of wayne and the thrifting they used to do every saturday morning.

the organization eddie had been having steve do was entirely arbitrary. it’s not like eddie plans his outfits. he mostly just pulls whatever out of wherever, unless it’s an event and then he pays someone to do the deciding and dressing for him anyway.

but. steve’s organized the t-shirts by genre and subgenre and then by band alphabetically and finally color. more than eddie had even asked him to do.

eddie had come in here fully prepared to rip steve a new one, but even he can be shocked into appreciation.

steve notices eddie’s silence and grins.

“can i tell you something?” steve says pleasantly and then continues without even letting eddie respond to the question. “i know i look like a nice polite guy next door that moms totally love—it’s the sweater vests, i think.” steve plucks at his top. “and that’s true. i am a nice polite guy and moms do love me. i’m awesome.” his grin widens. “but i got kicked out of my parents house when i was 18 and i lived in my car for a while. i’ve been on my own for seven years. i made a life in LA out of nothing. so you can throw your little temper tantrums and tell me how much you hate me. you can make me go to the erewhon all the way across town and you can make me look incompetent to my colleagues. but i need this job. i’ve worked hard for this job. this job pays more than any other job i’ve ever had combined. and you’re hardly the biggest asshole i’ve ever met. so you can continue trying to make my life miserable—hell, i’ll even give you my dad’s number, you guys can swap ideas!” steve laughs at his own joke before turning serious for the first time all day. “but i’m not vickie. you won’t make me cry. you can’t fire me. i’m not going anywhere.” he claps his hands together. “anyway, i’m gonna take off, since i have plans with my actual friends. but hey, i’ll see you tomorrow, huh?” and he smiles again, giving eddie a small waggle of his fingers, before heading out through the door.

eddie’s still just standing there in the middle of his tshirt room when he hears the front door slam shut.

part two

[00valentina-writes00]

I love ur writing!! I was wondering if you could do Virgin reader x Sevika.

Ofc <3

✞⛧ All in 100% ✞⛧

Warnings: first time sex, oddly gentle sevika if you’re into that, fingering

Zaun hums outside, the neon glow barely filtering through the heavy curtains of Sevika’s apartment. The room smells like metal, whiskey, and the lingering burn of cigars, but beneath it all, there’s something distinctly her—warm, steady, grounding. The air is thick, charged with the weight of something inevitable, something that has your heart hammering inside your chest.

You sit on the edge of her bed, knees pressed together, fingers twisting in your lap. Your body feels too hot, too tight, and she’s right there in front of you, all broad shoulders and quiet intensity, watching you with that sharp, unreadable gaze.

“You nervous?” Her voice is low, smooth, a little raspy from years of smoke.

You swallow hard, nodding.

Sevika exhales slowly through her nose, kneeling in front of you with a quiet kind of ease, like she’s done this a thousand times before. Her metal arm rests against her thigh, but her other hand reaches for you, warm fingers brushing over your knee, then higher, smoothing over your thigh. Testing.

“You don’t have to do this,” she says, voice quieter now.

“I want to.” The words come out softer than you mean them to, but Sevika hears you.

Her eyes darken slightly, and she leans in, her breath warm against your skin. “Then let me take care of you.”

She moves slowly, undressing you like it’s something sacred. Her fingers work the buttons of your shirt with unhurried precision, sliding the fabric down your arms, exposing inch after inch of bare skin. Her lips brush over your collarbone, the heat of her mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Fuck,” she murmurs, pulling back just enough to look at you, her fingers ghosting over your stomach, tracing the nervous tremor in your muscles. “You’re so damn pretty.”

Your breath catches when she pushes you back onto the mattress, settling between your thighs, the weight of her keeping you in place. The smell of her—leather, smoke, sweat—invades your senses, dizzying, intoxicating.

Her lips find yours, firm and slow, the taste of whiskey lingering as she coaxes you deeper, tilting your chin up to control the pace. She doesn’t rush—she lets you feel every movement, every shift of her body against yours, until the nervous tension in your limbs starts to melt.

Her hands trail lower, fingers slipping between your legs ,through your slick folds, teasing over the damp heat pooling there. You jolt at the first touch, a soft gasp spilling from your lips.

Sevika groans, pressing her forehead against yours. “Shit… you’re soaking.”

A flush burns across your skin, but before you can say anything, her fingers press a little more firmly, rubbing slow, lazy circles into your hood that have your thighs trembling.

“Just relax,” she murmurs, kissing along your jaw, her voice nothing but heat and patience. “Let me in.”

And when she finally pushes inside—slow, careful, making sure you feel every inch—you whimper, your body tensing around her. She groans, fingers stilling for a moment, letting you adjust, her other hand smoothing up your stomach, grounding you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” she breathes, voice tight. “You feel so fucking good.”

She moves slowly at first, deep, controlled strokes that have pleasure curling in your stomach, have your fingers digging into the sheets, into her. Her name slips past your lips, breathless and desperate, and something about it makes her shudder.

“Yeah?” she mutters against your skin, lips brushing over your pulse. “You like that, baby?”

Your body responds before your mouth can, hips rolling up, chasing the friction, the pressure building deep inside you. Sevika groans, her fingers pressing deeper, curling just right, making you see stars.

“Fuck—there it is,” she mutters, watching the way your body arches, the way you writhe beneath her. “That’s what you needed, huh?” Her thumbs draws slow circles around your clit.

You can’t answer. Your body does it for you, clenching around her fingers, your breath breaking into gasps as the pleasure builds and builds until it’s too much, until you’re trembling beneath her, crying out her name as you fall apart.

Sevika holds you through it, her arm wrapped around you, her lips pressed against your temple as aftershocks ripple through your body. She stays close, her warmth solid against you, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over your skin as you catch your breath.

“Told you I’d take care of you.”

[somerandomcockroach]

*stretches, breathes fresh cold air in, waters eyes, sits down* Here we go again ~

MMMMMMMMM Prowl's birth and existence starting and being described as nothing AHAH, EVEN MORE, the way to kill him if something goes crazy. MAN, MY BOY, YOU WERE BORN COLD AND COVERED IN COLD ALREADY Wait is it like. Half Prowl's pov. I know it can be described this way but I just, loved how the "Warm hands on his head sounds", more like explaining how it feels for him than a simple fact *sudden cackle* Didn't know translation of hitherto and it sounded like a funny mispelling.

*INHALES* I listen to "Steel for Humans" and it beat SO WELL I've got shivers "He wasn't nothing. He was a void, but suddenly that void had a direction, no matter how meaningless it sounded." NOT A NOTHING, but still not a something, void created out of will just to serve and not have a will "He became his purpose" I SO MUCH WANT TO SEE IT INSIDE HIS HEAD

G[PDFGOPFOWWJ

OH THIS IS SO TASTY. OTHER VIEW ON TAC NET, SO DAMN TASTY AHEFHJADGH. I WOULDN'T HAVE PAID ATTENTION BUT. "HE CALLED HIM PROWL" NOW THAT DOESN'T QUITE MAKE SENSE PFFFHT OF COURSE HE TOLD HIM TO DISAGREE WITH HIM. OF COURSE HE TOLD A CREATION THAT WAS BORN TO SERVE AND AGREE TO BE AND DISAGREE.

AJHEGHRESJGERS OF COURSE WHY NOT. BREAK HIM.

GOOD JOB, MY BOY, GIVE THEM HEADACHES AHAHA

I need them in one room more often, his own scientific amusement and observation Ah so his very first purpose was to help him bring a peace. YES IT IS A NANNY AHAHA

FRIENDSHIP WILL NOT GET YOU TO COUNCIL FASTER OH THERE ARE OTHER GOLEMS. I kind of was wondering if Orion is the only one who will just... make it different Naaaahhh Prowl is already a big bunch of emotions even if not the happiest ones, no wonder he isn't like them "Not allowed artifacts" *Looks at Shockwave* HGASHDGAEHGEAHG I assist Orion and help him, agree.... actually, do not agree anymore, Ratchet now looks like a good friend to help me keep Orion in place. So golems are widely spread occasion. Keeping places clean and other easy stuff. Double-bottom trap. DAMN I LIKE BODY LANGUAGE DETAILS JAHGGEA not sure if Prowl just now made a joke or stated a fact about processor.

NOW, THIS IS A DYNAMIC WITH THEM I LOVE TO SEE

EWHGFHEWFGEWH OH EHWGREHG MMM OH I LOVE HOW PROWL IS JUST. NO WAY TO GET THAT HE IS A GOLEM. NO MORE.

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZEEEEE W- WAIT. F*** YOU. YEEEEEEEEEEESSSSS HIS STUDENTS ARE SAVAGES SAVED AND GOTTEN TO SHOCKWAVE YEEEEEESSSSSSS “Can read, write, speak, even makes music.” Who's that pokemon? ........Okay here comes the bits of their future destruction... and the fact that they will just. Accept it. Of course! Why not! *lies down* ....PROWL. PROWL NO. PROWL WRONG. NOT THIS WAY. NOT LIKE THIS NO.

PROWL STOP THIS IS A WRONG CHARACTER GROWTH

"When...when a mech commits especially terrible crimes against the will of Primus, the very magic of their spark rises up against them and turns them into a demon. And I just learned today what a...demon looks like." lET Me just. There is no shit like "Primus' will. Primus hangs out with atheist and smiles when someone says that Primus isn't capable of everything. It is the council. AH. Council is capable of extracting the spark. CAN THEY ALSO F**KING TURN OTHERS INTO DEMONS?!? ORION THIS IS COUNCIL I DON'T BELIEVE THAT IT IS PRIMUS, ORION YOU ARE DOING RIGHT THINGS.

This bit. Prowl has done things. He has done and might be chased for it. But he doesn't have a spark. I wonder to whom he resembles with the "I hope he doesn't"...

“I've done something wrong again. It's not moving.”

There was a lot of stuff spread out in front of him. Old spare parts, pieces of armor, tools. Lots of warped plates.

And his creation. A real golem. An entity woven of metal and magic.

Shockwave walked around the table and stopped right above the head of the figure lying on it

“Golems exist to serve, my friend. It won't move unless you ask it to.”

Orion clutched his servos. The figure remained stone still. There was no ventilation noise, no engine sound, not even the barely audible spinning of a spark. It could just as easily have been a long-cooled dead body lying in front of him.

“Wake up.”

___________________

Magical Golem Prowl anyone? ‘,:) This story exists in the same universe as Spellbound au. and Monster hunter au and ties them together so I highly recommend you read all of them.

The fic under the cut⤵️

He seemed to be nothing.

The emptiness that infinitely defined his nonexistent self bounced off the metal plates and glinted in the droplets of still-warm energon. He was nothing, but there was so much around him that the space was like an infinite buzz of cluttered noise. The voices above him sounded excited. The metal slab beneath him was cold and hard.

“Good. Now you need to put a piece of your armor on this. Somewhere it will be in plain sight and easily reachable.”

“Oh...wouldn't it make more sense to hide it under the armor? I mean, it's an obvious weak point.”

He idly thought, his hands felt numb.

“No no, that's the whole point. You're using an artifact you haven't fully studied and you don't know exactly how it's going to turn out. If it goes crazy and becomes dangerous, you should have an easy way to destroy it. Where's the artifact by the way?”

The tinkling of metal.

The sound of a crystal clattering against armor.

Warm hands on his head.

“Here.”

“Excellent. Now. This will be the base on which the entire spell will be held, so you want to hide this artifact very well and secure it carefully so it doesn't break by mistake.”

Did he have hands too? He was nothing, why did he have hands? It didn't make sense.

Orion took a couple steps away from the table and stood pensively.

“I've done something wrong again. It's not moving.”

There was a lot of stuff spread out in front of him. Old spare parts, pieces of armor, tools. Lots of warped plates.

And his creation. A real golem. An entity woven of metal and magic.

Shockwave, hitherto distracted by an almost invisible spot on his shoulderplate, glanced leisurely over Orion's shoulder

“Golems don't need much to function. You made a good shell. The magical structure is strong as well, I see.”

Orion hesitantly pointed to the golem's forehead, decorated with a neat sharp chevron.

“I added some things that weren't in your instructions and I think I made a mistake somewhere.”

“Golem making is a complex skill, don't give up if it doesn't work right awa...you know what, actually no, you did everything right.”

Orion shrugged in frustration.

“Then why won't it move?”

Shockwave walked around the table and stopped right above the head of the figure lying on it

“ Golems exist to serve, my friend. It won't move unless you ask it to.”

Orion walked back over to the table with a quiet “oh” and nervously clutched his servos. The figure remained stone still. There was no ventilation noise, no engine sound, not even the barely audible spinning of a spark. It could just as easily have been a long-cooled dead body lying in front of him.

“Wake up.”

The emptiness that forever defined his nonexistent self stammered. He wasn't nothing. He had a purpose and that purpose shaped him, put strength into his numb limbs and molded his lack of thought into naked intent.

He wasn't nothing. He was a void, but suddenly that void had a direction, no matter how meaningless it sounded.

He stopped being just nothing. He became his purpose. And it felt so right that it was unclear how he could ever have been anything else before.

He opened his optics.

Orion, who apparently hadn't expected that the thing he'd made specifically for it to move would move, jerked back with a funny sound.

On the opposite side, Shockwave nodded proudly, returning to the spot on his armor that even in the bright lights of the workshop only he could see.

“I believed in you.”

_________

“Oh my god! How do you sneak up on me so quietly every time?”

He wasn't nothing anymore. He was a whole long list of instructions and rules. His creator sat him down at a table and meticulously listed everything he could and could not do. Handed him many books and ordered him to attend a huge number of lectures. He now knew who to bow to if he passed them in the hallway and who to avoid. He had learned hundreds of names and thousands of titles. Learned how to pretend to be a real Mech, even though he wasn't.

The world around him was complex and confusing, but he found that this complexity had its own patterns, linked together in a bizarre web of systems and sequences. It was worth pulling on the right end, and the meaningless facts organized themselves into something much more manageable.

Everything made sense. The planet revolved around a star. Mechs rejoiced when they got something that improved their quality of life. Energon burned, producing energy. Big things tended to be heavier than small things.

The world was divided into Mechs and monsters...and him.

He was inclined to be...quiet.

His creator - he'd asked to be called Orion - twitched when he found his creation standing right behind him.

He was very talented at finding Orion wherever he was. And very light compared to most things his size. Like everything else it made sense. He wasn't a Mech, he was just an empty shell. An armor summoned to life by magic. His footsteps were as quiet as a mini bot's. Whatever Orion called it, he wasn't 'sneaking' on purpose.

A few cycles later, Orion accidentally bent one of its finals when he turned around too quickly, startled by the quiet footsteps behind him.

He named him Prowl. It was...not exactly logical, but there was a certain sense to it. Prowl nodded and agreed. He always agreed with everything Orion said, even if it didn't make sense at all. Orion's opinion took a higher priority than anything else.

Until it didn't.

Until Orion gave him a focused look and told him that he should argue if he thought it was necessary.

Until Orion put the servo on his shoulder and said something along the lines of....

“You can disagree with me if you think my opinion is wrong. I'm not asking you to go against me. I'm not perfect and I can't be the one absolute point of reference for everything. You can and I'm sure will be smarter than me about many things. I want you to tell me if I'm wrong and what I should do about it.”

Like…well….like an absolute fool.

This concept was new. Prowl wasn't built to argue. He was made to obey orders and to serve a function.

Orion smiled slyly. At least it was probably a smile behind his mask that made the corners of his optics lift.

“It wouldn't be considered a disobedience of my order if I ordered you to disobey it. Don't you think?”

Prowl opened his mouth to agree out of habit, but then changed his mind mid-motion and closed it back. It...it didn't make sense. It made sense that was breaking under its own weight. It was mercilessly mixing up all of his pre-learned patterns for talking to Orion. If he agreed with that logic now, it would mean accepting its use. If he protested, it would also mean accepting it, but in a bit more embarrassing way. Just when he was thinking of simply retreating silently to the nearest shadow and banging his head against the wall, he heard a quiet chuckle and realized that Orion had been amusing himself for some time now, watching him struggle.

Prowl decided that verbal responses might be overrated and frowned his face in the most believable expression of displeasure he could portray.

Orion broke out into laughter.

________

“What exactly is my goal?”

Orion looks. Curious. He stops talking to Shockwave and leans back on the bench.

“Right now, to study these journals. I already told you.”

Prowl nods to indicate he heard him and continues

“Studying serves a future purpose. Studying for the sake of studying would be meaningless to me. What is my final goal?”

“To assist me” Orion says slightly confused. ”Within the best of your ability of course.“”

“Аh. Assist in the fulfillment of your goal.”

“Well. I'd say so, yes.”

Prowl nods

“And what is your goal?”

Shockwave, who has been sitting next to them the whole time looks like they're a couple of previously unknown to science species he's just personally discovered.

Prowl ignores him.

“I...you remember the separation between Mechs and monsters, right?” asks Orion cautiously.

“Yes.”

“Mechs...are unfair to monsters. Monsters are cruel to Mechs. It's a needlessly violent situation that I want to...try to. Fix.”

Prowl frowns to indicate that the information isn't completely clear.

“You're a member of the order of hunters. And...” he shakes his head toward the nearest window ”...you have a considerable number of hunters under your command. Your job involves destroying monsters.”

Shockwave makes some sort of quiet amused sound and props his chin up with his hand.

Prowl ignores him harder.

“My job is to bring peace.” says Orion “You don't have to kill monsters to do that. You can negotiate with them. Find a compromise. Coexist. I...I guess basically, I'm trying to make the world a little better?”

Prowl doesn't look impressed. He's actually making a special effort to not let Orion think in any way that he might be intrigued by the whole endeavor.

“You do realize that's a disproportionately large goal for just one Mech, right?”

Orion shrugs awkwardly

“That's why I made you.”

__________

Ratchet puts aside his tools and critically examines his work.

“Don't touch that and it will heal normally.”

Orion smiles gratefully

“Thank you.”

Ratchet is important to Orion. They are close and very valuable friends to each other. The two of them look peaceful now, despite the fact that Ratchet threatened Orion when he first showed up in Sick Bay, so Prowl decides it would be a socially acceptable moment to start talking

“Orion, you're wanted at the Council.”

The second half of his line is drowned helplessly in two startled exclamations at once. Orion, to his honor, calms down almost immediately, but Ratchet continues cursing for a while.

Prowl doesn't wait for him to finish. The Council meeting is earlier than usual today and Orion has already had a few occasions of misbehavior. It's in his best interest to at least show up on time this time.

“Shockwave asked me to tell you to hurry. I will add that showing up at the last minute will not be good for your reputation if you are still hoping to convince the council to let you take more units.”

Ratchet .....stares.

“Primus' rusty hinges, Orion, who's that? Did they assign a nanny to you?”

Orion twitches his finals playfully and immediately crinkles in pain, remembering that one of them should have been left to heal.

“Remember when I wanted to find an assistant? Well...”

Ratchet casts an increasingly more suspicious look at Prowl. Prowl decides that friendliness is overrated and limits his expression to a barely perceptible tilt of his head in response.

“...Shockwave recently helped me figure out how to create golems and I figured if I couldn't find anyone I could trust, I might as well...make one. So. Ratchet meet Prowl.” finishes Orion awkwardly.

Ratchet glares at Prowl for a while longer. Then he turns away and starts tidying up Sick Bay.

“I'm not buying it. I don't know where you found this guy, but you're not playing me. Nice poker face by the way.”

One of Prowl's wings twitches

“He wasn't lying.”

Ratchet snorts grumpily.

“Those...” he waves toward the next room ”...are golems.

There, behind the wall, several golems scurry around. They have medical staff symbols painted on their shoulders, and there is not a trace of thought in their eyes. Two are scrubbing the floors, another wiping the shelves and window sills clean of dust. They occasionally mumble softly under their noses or utter an inane “excuse me” every time they accidentally bump into each other. Prowl knows that if you ask any of them a question with more than one variable, they start babbling guiltily and shrugging their shoulders. They're stupid, but they themselves don't seem to care about that at all. They are their purpose. And their purpose is to keep things clean. They are pride because they are good at their job.

Prowl frowns. He's a headache. Because his "purpose" has been distracted by his conversation with Ratchet and will probably add another tardy to his list in the near future.

Orion begins (thank goodness) to move toward the door

“I've made improvements. There might have been...some not exactly allowed artifacts.”

Ratchet rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly. Prowl can see that his face is already starting to wrinkle in that spot. Patient antics probably age Ratchet far more effectively than the passage of time itself.

“I...you know what...go before the Council sends a search party to look for you.”

Orion sighs and without further distraction finally walks out the door.

Prowl decides that Ratchet might be a good ally when it comes to managing Orion.

He nods politely goodbye before leaving.

______________

“I am different from them. Why?”

Orion puts down the document he's been working on and looks first at Prowl and then, over his head, at the other golems scurrying down the hallway with brooms and rags. He doesn't need to interject exactly who he thinks Prowl is different from.

“Do you want a philosophical answer or a technical one?”

Prowl reaches out and pokes somewhere in Orion's document

“ You missed a comma. Both.”

Orion obediently puts the comma in and folds up the document. His finals are twitching faintly. It could be a sign of concentration as well as distraction. Prowl has already figured out that Orion's body language is a double-bottom trap. For a Mech with this level of expressiveness, Orion is surprisingly difficult to read.

“Sometime quite a while ago during one of my expeditions, I found a unique artifact. A fascinating item, granting wisdom to anyone brave enough to use it.”

“I have a feeling a ‘but’ is coming.”

“You're right. The artifact's unique gift was also its curse. It fed so much information through the Mech's heads that it literally caused the processors of its owners to melt.”

“Oh. Good thing I don't have a processor then.”

Orion laughs quietly

“Indeed. You won't have that problem. And about the other part....Think of all the Mechs you know who are savvy enough about politics and available to work together at the moment.”

Orion gives him a moment before continuing.

“ What is the likelihood that the most trustworthy of them would betray me, for their own gain or out of fear?”

“ Twenty-eight percent,” Prowl informs.

And then hesitates a moment.

Orion is obviously a smart Mech. Not smart enough to single-handedly dominate the political arena, definitely not with his ideals and ideas of what's right. But smart enough to realize it. He knows what he wants and he also knows he can't achieve it alone.

Prowl looks at Orion, who just stands there, eyeing him, without in any way trying to continue the conversation.

Orion is idealistic, and therefore often mistaken for stupid. He isn't. Orion doesn't just know that he can't succeed alone, he knows that everyone else knows it too. He thinks this knowledge will be used against him when the opportunity arises. He's right. By Prowl's count, at least three suspiciously clever Mechs were going to sweet-talk their way into becoming Orion's assistant one way or another before... he appeared.

One of the janitor golems runs past them down the corridor. He doesn't turn around, doesn't even slow down or cast a curious glance. His only goal, his only interest is cleaning. The rest of the world might as well not exist at all.

Prowl thinks he's not that different.

Orion apparently reads the understanding from his face, because he nods contentedly and starts walking further down the hall.

“You didn't take yourself into account when you made the statistics, did you?”

Prowl follows him silently on his heels. Not close enough to be familiar, but not so far away that the conversation stops being private.

“The sampling condition was all mechs. I am not one.”

“That's true” Orion shrugs “You have no loved ones that the Council could use to influence you. You have no desires to be bought by their fulfillment. And while I cannot say with absolute certainty that you will never be capable of going against me...” Prowl starts to open his mouth to object but Orion gestures him to stop, “...no no no no, let me finish. And while I can't be sure you'll never betray me, I at least know for sure that before you met me you had no reason to do so. Do you understand?”

Prowl understands. It makes sense. He still feels the need to argue back, because it is part of his function to do that.

“I would never betray you. I'm not capable of it.”

Orion twitches his finals. Without seeing his face Prowl assumes it is a sign of doubt.

“You are a creature of intellect, Prowl. I am a Mech of ideals. Those two things don't always combine well.”

______

“Foolish and presumptuous.”

Prowl ponders that his function could be much easier if he didn't have to constantly try to balance what is right and what is right in Orion's eyes.

“If you were spotted, the Council would have good reason to assume this isn't the first time you've done something like this.”

“No one noticed,” Orion tries, but Prowl doesn't let him finish that thought

“No one has seen you, because you're lucky. You can't count on it being a permanent occurrence! You undermine your own position by giving the Council grounds for suspicion, you...”

Prowl stops, still pointing his finger accusingly somewhere on Orion's chin. Shockwave, who has witnessed the scene, makes an impressed face and steps closer.

“I swear, you're probably the most capable golem maker I've ever had the pleasure of teaching, Orion. If I hadn't seen that guy on your assembly table, I would never know.”

Prowl takes the statement as a compliment, but doesn't feel the need to show it outwardly. Shockwave, as one of the few who knows about him not being a real Mech, doesn't take offense to it in any way.

“Did I interrupt something dramatic?”

Prowl snorts, because the gesture maintains just the right amount of judgment for his situation.

“Orion is once again harboring a monster instead of killing it or letting it escape.”

This news immediately enlivens Shockwave's posture. Prowl knows he's an even bigger fan of collecting suspicious side projects than Orion. Their friendship, frankly, will one day bury either one or both of them. Prowl just hopes his presence will be enough to sway the percentages when that happens.

Orion doesn't try to deny anything.

“One of my squads encountered a ghost near the northern border. I couldn't... listen Shockwave, he's a good guy. He just needs to be given a chance to show it.”

“Can he talk?” there's almost visible stars in Shockwave's eyes..

Prowl slumps his shoulders helplessly, already knowing what's coming next. These two have done this dance a hundred times before. One of Shockwave's favorite side projects was a school for, as they called them, magically gifted and extraordinary Mechs. In fact, it was the largest den of various monsters that Prowl had ever seen. Every time Orion's hunting squads found a monster that could even remotely resemble a normal Mech, Orion would rush with happy optics to hand it over to Shockwave for care. There, the monsters were taught everything they needed to fit into the society of normal Mechs, but more importantly, they were given documents. Precious pieces of paper that granted their holders rights, freedoms, and protections as Shockwave's apprentices.

Prowl could appreciate the noble endeavor. He could also see clearly that with each addition, this school would become more and more of an inconvenient thorn in the Council's side. Just like Orion, Shockwave was happy to paint a brighter and brighter target on his own back for many cycles.

Orion, insensitive to danger that is not immediate, cheerfully begins to recite

“Can read, write, speak, even makes music.”

Shockwave nods happily

“Introduce us?”

Prowl wonders how far Shockwave can stretch the definition of “magically gifted Mech”. One day Orion will pick up a Kraken on the street and then they'll both probably have to do a lot of mental gymnastics to make it's documents. Ugh.

When Orion had asked him to calculate the probability of betrayal, the most reliable mech he was evaluating at the time was Shockwave.

Twenty-eight percent...

Prowl wonders how many students must be on the opposite side of the scale from Orion for Shockwave to choose in their favor. Speculation is actually useless. If the Council decides to nail Shockwave, they will of course use his entire school at once.

In fact, they probably won't even have to force Shockwave to choose between the school and Orion, because Orion himself will choose a bunch of monsters over himself.

This ridiculously dangerous social construct they call friendship rests entirely on their reputation as honest and honorable mechs. Prowl stares at Shockwave's back and wonders how one mech could have so much charisma, that he gets away with keeping a huge number of Council enemies right under the noses of that same Council.

_________________

Orion gently lifts the now graying shell of what was once a monster from the ground

He doesn't even turn toward Prowl.

"Did you kill him?"

Killing...it's a stretch. Does the act of helping a murderer qualify as murder? Or the lack of action that could have saved the now murdered person? In most cultures and languages, “murder” refers to the act of ending someone else's life, but the context implies a physical act. Did you put a knife in his back? Did you push him off a cliff? Did you cut him with a sword?

By those criteria. Well. Prowl never killed anyone. Nor is he likely to, for he has neither the skill nor the strength to do so.

Did he cause death? Absolutely.

Orion's always had this heroic streak that wouldn't let him just pass by the distressed and disadvantaged. Orion has always had a great spark of kindness and principles as strong as titanium alloy as to what is right and what is wrong.

In Orion's world view, murder is wrong. And murder in conditions where it was possible to solve everything by peace is immoral and unacceptable.

Prowl's worldview tells him that Orion could do much better if he stopped wasting his potential on helping those who will only drag him down in the long run. Orion's life depends entirely on the Council's opinion of him. A Council that has been watching him closely lately. Even if Orion doesn't like it, it's Prowl's job to make sure they like what they see.

Orion turns to him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

"Prowl. That mech tried to escape. Past you. And now he's dead. Were you the one who killed him?"

"No," says Prowl, "he ran into one of the patrols."

That statement is missing a good half of the details. Like mentioning that the patrol wouldn't have been there in the first place if Prowl hadn't sent them an anonymous lead.

Orion doesn't need to know that. Orion lives under the idea that every life is precious and, even more inconveniently, equal.

Prowl sometimes feels like yelling at him for it. Because that shiny perfect picture is simply unsustainable outside of Orion's head. The monster, whose graying body now lies on the ground, would be of little use to society. Likely left free, he would have simply continued to attack and kill travelers.

Whereas Orion spends his life making the world a better place. This is an objective fact confirmed by numerous observations.

They are not equals. And they probably never will be. Orion's life is much. Much heavier on the imaginary scales of statistics.

Orion squints at him suspiciously. He's clearly hesitant.

"You could have just let him go instead of killing him."

The trap is honestly too obvious.

"I didn't kill him" Prowl repeats "he ran into a patrol. You can't blame the hunters for doing their job."

Orion places a hand on the dead creature's forehead in a respectful gesture of regret while simultaneously averting his gaze. It's a habit by now.

Look the other way, don't let the council know what you're doing. Sympathize but not in plain sight, help but in secret.

"They had no right to attack him.This is neutral territory. He has the right to run wherever he wants."

Prowl's mouth is twisting with the urge to argue. To say that according to existing information, this monster would have just continued the attacks if he'd stayed free.

He says nothing. Orion is clearly in no mood to argue right now, and he's already questioning Prowl's claim. It's not worth pushing any further.

Prowl only nods, showing that he's heard Orion's point of view.

__________________

He is surprisingly good at lying.

Of course the skill doesn't just come naturally, but he's been known for his straightforwardness. Mechs automatically expect him to either remain silent or tell the unpleasant truth.

All he has to do is give only certain bits and pieces instead of coherent information without changing his usual behavior in any way and the mechs won't be inclined to verify it, filling in the gaps themselves. As a golem, he can't lie, but he can get others to lie to themselves.

He exploits this a lot. Probably more often than Orion would approve, but Prowl doesn't ask him to confirm. Conversations with Orion tend to narrow down his list of options. Because Orion is a real living mech. With a spark. With feelings. And his complex moral code revolves entirely around what he feels to be right.

Prowl has no spark. Prowl has an empty armor that he considers his body and a wisdom artifact that he considers his worth. Both his and Orion's understandings of what is right...overlap...sometimes.

Not always.

______________

"I saw a demon in person for the first time today."

Prowl politely shifts his posture to show he's listening

"A …demon?"

"Demon" Orion repeats "When...when a mech commits especially terrible crimes against the will of Primus, the very magic of their spark rises up against them and turns them into a demon. And I just learned today what a...demon looks like."

Prowl remains silent, waiting for a continuation that never comes. Orion seems gone in his thoughts....

"And what does it look like?" prompts Prowl.

"Creepy. It looks creepy and unnatural and terrifying. Primus' wrath has a very ugly shape..."

"Ah...I see...what did that mech do to be met with such punishment?"

Orion frowns

"I'm not sure. But what we're doing can't go against Primus' will, right? I mean, all beings are his creations! He can't condemn us for trying to make peace between mechs and monsters..."

Prowl is familiar with the concept of punishment for wrongdoing. But something about the very idea...the idea that punishment will find you no matter how well you hide because you can’t run away from your own spark...he has to admit it's disturbing.

"I hope he doesn't."

——————————

Thoughts?👁

Ahsjfjfj

This is the first half of the fic btw because I don’t have enough time to translate the whole thing in one day. I’ll try to post the second half tomorrow🤞

[grvait]

more old art!! featuring theo and my human harley fan design!! RUN THEODORE RUN (he's cooked)

im gonna talk about chapter 4 under here so only click if ur ok with spoilers! also its a huge yapfest. like HUUGE. i just want to voice my opinions about prototype because i've seen ppl sort of miss the point of what happened at the end of the chapter

I LOVED CHAPTER 4! IT WAS SO COOL!! i was sooo worried but im glad it turned out good. rip pianosaurus tho..

tldr (for the bunch of paragraphs where I talk abt prototype)

prototype being ollie is deranged because it means he was terrorizing the toys of safe haven on purpose for the fun of it when he could have killed them at any time. he also created an extremely close emotional bond with poppy for OVER A DECADE just to tear it all away from her at the end and tell her it was meaningless (he then proceeds to taunt her over the phone abt it). bro is LITERALLY TROLLING

you cant tell me that final scene w the "ive got something special in mind. i prepared it just for you, and this time you'll never want to leave." isnt some tom and jerry shit

ABT PROTOTYPE REVEALING HIMSELF AS OLLIE... (the long explanation)

we ALL knew he was ollie, but i don't think people are seeing the point of this reveal. it wasn't about revealing himself to us the player, it's about the implications that arise from it. he had been playing both sides for 10+ YEARS. that's deranged enough but not even CLOSE to the end of it

as ollie he had emotionally supported poppy in her lowest moments (as heard in the ollie and poppy tape). this tape also insinuates that (at least around the time it was recorded) the two of them called frequently, possibly every night. he wasn't just pretending to be everyone's ally, he was PRETENDING TO BE THEIR CLOSEST FRIEND THAT THEY COULD VENT TO 😭 he heard this poor girl sob into the phone and tell him about how she felt her humanity being taken from her, AND HE KEPT UP THE CHARADE AND COMFORTED HER, KNOWING THIS PATH HAD BAD INTENTIONS

what's worse than all of that, though, is that him being ollie means that at any time in the last 10 years he could have used the persona to force his way into safe haven. AT ANY TIME HE COULD HAVE KILLED THEM ALL. HE COULD SIMPLY USE THE OLLIE VOICE AND ASK THEM TO OPEN THE DOOR. why is this worse, you ask? because HE WAS LITERALLY TERRORIZING THEM ON PURPOSE.

think about the note in the cart/cave area. a toy from safe haven writes that prototype was right outside the door the night before, he'd gotten past the traps and was just tapping on the wall and staring. they said after he was gone they still felt they could hear it. HE IS LITERALLY BEING SCARY ON PURPOSE???? LEGIT TRAUMATIZING THEM AND FOR NO REASON. HE COULD GET IN THERE, HE'S SIMPLY CHOOSING TO MAKE THEIR LIVES HELL

so thats crazy.. BUT ALSO THE ENDING? in the poppy and ollie tape he says "im right here, poppy. for you. i'll always be here." AND AT THE END OF THE GAME, WHEN POPPY ASKS WHAT HE DID WITH OLLIE, HE SAYS THAT. you know what that means? that means he said that shit to her ALL THE TIME. clearly only the two of them would be familiar with the phrase which is why after he said it, she immediately knew he was ollie the whole time

i feel bad for poppy. she ran off but she was valid for that. all her friends from safe haven are dead, the only ones left are the player, kissy and ollie, but she soon realizes that ollie is WORSE than dead. he is LITERALLY HER ENEMY. the thousands of conversations they had, probably hundreds of times she vented and told him her plans and discussed her life with him? ALL FOR NOTHING. any time she thought she was winning the past 10 years was a lie, she was ALWAYS LOSING because he was GETTING ALL THE INFO FROM THEM. she genuinely never had a chance and i think she realized that

in her dialogue you can tell she's grieving ollie (obviously he IS prototype, but i think she's grieving the thought of him). saying "you lied to me" to the prototype of all people is absurd (considering he's done far worse than lie) but when you think about how she feels, it makes sense.

also the part where she said "this isn't right". again, a weird thing to say to him of all people, but if you put yourself in her shoes she's grieving the friend she thought she had, and she's struggling to grapple with the fact that it all meant nothing. somewhere in her mind she believes "ollie" as a personality is there somewhere, because how could someone be that close with you and mean none of it? she thinks that voicing this pain he's inflicted will change his mind, but it won't. and that's why it's genuinely really sad. that's why she asks if there was ever an ollie. i don't think she meant it literally, and i don't think his answer was literal either. she didn't mean "were you a mf named ollie once" she meant it like "was our friendship ever genuine?" which makes his response both heartbreaking and interesting.

so not only is her world shattered now, most of her friends are dead and the one who wasn't turned out to be her opp, but now he's TAUNTING HER OVER THE PHONE AND THREATENING HER. nice one... (loved the quip after she ran off btw. that shit was hilarious. like bro u made her crash out and went "some friend, huh?" YOU CANT SAY THAT BRO)

anyway think of it from her perspective: everyone you knew is gone, and soon the only 2 people that remain will be too. you can't run, or hide, or do anything. he WILL find you, and when he does he'll lock you away FOREVER where NOBODY WILL BE LEFT TO SAVE YOU. I WOULD RUN TOO.............. plus her running off probably led him away so.. she saved us sorta.

ALL THAT TO SAY THAT I REALLY LIKE THE OLLIE REVEAL FOR REASONS FAR BEYOND A SIMPLE TWIST. him being ollie for over a decade raises many many questions, and suggests very dark things.

hes crazy and the fact he did a monologue means he knows he won. he wouldn't have spilled the beans otherwise...

[elysianightsss]

AAAHHHHH! HI! So sorry to bother you, but I read the neurodivergent reader x 141 and AHHHHH I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING, DROOLING, CHEWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE they wont let me out

i have a little idea… how would poly 141 react when they find out your job isnt this cute barista or something along those lines, but just a regular stocking associate or a cashier for some huge corporation. like, they know you work. and every time you leave, they see you die a little on the inside from having to go to *insert shitty job*. They just didnt know that you were working there and now they are trying whatever they can to convince you to quote your job and stay home… i know i would rather stay home and take care of them than going to my job…

Oh anon I love your brain! As someone who used to be a cashier before I got my fucking wonderful, literally no joke amazing office job, I fuck with this. I’m writing them as roommates tho don’t know why just deal with it😘

It starts off with a debate over what time you get up in the mornings given how tired you seemed today. But then they realise, they don’t even know what you do for work. Johnny predicts that you’re one of those cute baristas in sweet little aprons with how good the flavoured coffees you make him in the morning when he’s back from his run, are.

Kyle can’t seem to fathom you’re not the office sweetheart he seems to picture you as. Though you’d been living with them for almost over a year now, the guys were gone before you left for work and back long after you arrived home. Still he had it in his head the whole time that you were putting on tight pencil skirts and heels in the morning before going off to work. Something he argues tooth and nail with Johnny about.

John scoffs hearing the guys argue, usually keeping out of it, but this time he can’t help himself when he interjects with, “Yer both chattin shit. She’s obviously a baker with those mouth watering pastries she makes us.” Now that opens up the argument further.

Simon is the only one who doesn’t speculate, instead he walks right up to you on a Sunday night as the guys are all readying themselves for bed and you’re making your lunch for tomorrow. “Luv.” He calls, you glance at him, eyes honing in on the way his grey sweatpants hang low on his hips. Dangerous, dangerous man.

Looking back to the fruit you were slicing, you hum in acknowledgment, “Wot’s ya job?”

You bite back the grin that fights to split your face in two, turning to him you see he visibly softens at your little smile, “I’m a cashier.” You answer, ears tinging red a little. In all honesty you were embarrassed that you worked for one of those big corporations. The dreams you had once but were never able to reach are like a damp on your heart. Like a festering mould that only grows in the worst conditions.

Sometimes you enjoy the people, there are some nice ones that overcome the bad interactions. But everyday you pull on the trousers and trainers, and that itchy uniform top, you wish that a snowstorm would lock you inside the house. You pray to receive a call telling you not to come in due to a fire that started in the bakery. Your heart aches to be told you’re allowed to go home early even if you won’t be paid as much at the end of the month.

Simon hadn’t said much after you told him, his eyes darkened a little when he asked if you enjoyed it and you had answered swiftly and without hesitation; no.

Then suddenly, the guys are leaving for work a little later in the morning. The same time as you. John offering you a lift to work, Johnny making you coffee instead of the other way around, Kyle giving you one of his soft jackets so at least your arms will be comfortable even if your torso is covered in that itchy material.

Simon is the one who places his hand on your forehead and tuts beneath his black surgical mask. You scoff when Simon says he doesn’t think you should go in today, “I feel fine.” You counter with a frown, pushing his big paw away and shoving your feet into the uncomfortable trainers.

John stares down at them like they’ve offended him personally, “You own comfier shoes lass.” Johnny comments and Kyle nods in agreement.

“I have to wear them.” You say quietly wondering why they suddenly have such an interest in your work attire. Have to. Well, that just wasn’t acceptable. The guys didn’t think you should have to do anything.

The weekends were a little weird too. You would usually cook them meals and sweet pastries or cakes with how hard they worked, they deserved nothing less. But Johnny is ushering you away from the kitchen when you walk past the dining table and the marble counter island to make him a coffee.

John says no thank you in the most strained way you’ve ever heard it when you offer to make him a sweet treat. He deflates even further into the sofa when you look offended at his decline. Kyle pulls you close to him on the other side of the couch, putting an arm around you, he continues reading his book but it’s out loud this time.

You sigh snuggling close to him, head on his shoulder when Simon brings over one of the many plushies you’d left on the floor of the lounge, again, and one of the many soft blankets you’d unnecessarily bought for the house. Maybe you could get used to this, you thought as your eyes started to blink slower. It had been a really long week, with lots of assholes. A week of sitting in that uncomfortable chair had done a number on your back too.

You’re just lucky that you’d said from the very beginning that you won’t work weekends, at least you could have those to yourself. The guys became even more attentive, not that they weren’t before, but it increased tenfold. And you wondered why.

Why Kyle is packing you a lunch box everyday now. Why Johnny is cuddling up to you at night just so you sleep warmer, better. Why John is willing to race away from very important paperwork to sit outside the big supermarket you worked at just so you didn’t have to take the bus home. Why Simon keeps buying you lush smelling soaps, bath salts and those sparkly bathbombs he knows you love, you have so many now you don’t know what to do with them. Even when you ask him to stop, he shakes his head and grunts out, “Baths are good for sore muscles.” And that’s all you get.

You just want to know why, what brought all of this on. And most of all why it all suddenly stops.

Almost like a calculated mission, like a big discussion had happened before hand. All of it stopped. They had left long before you got up for work, no lunch ready to go, no soft jacket waiting by the door, no cuddle reading sessions on the weekend, no more new bath stuff, no more lifts and an expectant look in John’s eyes when it gets to dinner time.

They’d done a total three sixty. Like they wanted to show you how good it could be with their help, how much easier life could be, going to work could be, only just to take it all away.

That’s exactly what their plan had been, Simon’s idea mostly with little suggestions made by the rest of them. They all executed it thoroughly, now all that’s left for them is to compete the final step.

“Doll I think you should quit your job.” John goes first, you frown excessively. What the hell is he talking about, you think.

“Have you gone mad?” You huff. John knows you’re annoyed with them, hell they all know you’re angry by their actions. But it’s a necessary evil.

“Not yet I don’t think,” John jokes and feels a little lighter when the corner of your lip quirks up slightly, “I am serious.” He says simply, his blue eyes burning into you before he walks away. You think it so odd, strange that he says that out of the blue.

And then Kyle says it too. Coming into your room with the same baby Yoda squishmallow Simon had placed in your lap two weeks ago, and the same blanket. He gestures towards your bed, it’s subtle but you nod. Failing to hide his grin, Kyle gets snuggled up under the blanket with you, your arms wrapped around the plushie.

He’s halfway through the book, hand brushing through your hair scratching at your scalp deliciously when he broaches the subject, “Bun?” You scrunch up your nose, blinking your eyes open to look at him accusingly. The sight makes him chuckle softly, you’re screaming with your eyes, how dare you make me open my eyes and be fully conscious.

He leans forward before he can stop himself and rubs his nose against yours sweetly, something he tells himself later was just to butter you up before talking. It wasn’t.

“I don’t think you should go to work anymore.” He says simply, with ease, his voice calm.

“What?” You blink rapidly waking yourself up fully to actually take in what he just said.

“Just something to think about bunny.” He shrugs and goes back to reading with that damn lulling voice. You don’t stop him, don’t interrupt but your mind is swirling the same way it had the day before when John had said something similar.

Johnny is not so tactful, shovelling his breakfast in his mouth. Half masticated bacon and scrambled eggs rolling around in his wide open trap, when he spits out the words. “Quit yer job lass, no one wants to be stackin shelves and scannin someone else’s shit all day.” He scoffs washing his food down with the caramel flavoured coffee you made him five minutes ago. He’s quick to put the plate in the sink and place a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His head bend slightly, eyes level with you, “Think about it pet.” He pats your cheek lightly and earns a much more harsh smack to the back of his head by Kyle on the way out of the house.

And finally Simon…well Simon…um Simon just did what he thought was best, what he thought was necessary, what he thought would get you to comply the quickest…

You pant harshly, fingers gripping onto the light bronde hair painfully hard, yanking with each stripe Simon licked up your cunt. You barely noticed John walking passed your open bedroom door with a smirk, Simon had his face buried so deep in your pussy it was hard to think, hard to conjure up your own name let alone open your eyes and catch Kyle and Johnny pushing your door open a little wider and watching for a moment before Kyle drags Johnny away.

Simon’s broken too many times to fix, crooked nose brushed against your clit wonderfully, tongue fucking into your quivering hole making you buck your hips desperate for the release he’d been denying you for around twenty minutes now.

“Say it.” Simon cooed, encouraging you gently. Shaking your head, teeth biting down on your lip, holding on as tightly to your words as you held onto Simon.

Simon grips your jaw in his big paw, a sharp look comes across his features as though he’s about to scold you when you meet his gaze, thumb rubbing your clit in tight, rough circles to keep the stimulation enough, to keep you there on the edge so he has you right where he wants you.

“Say it and you can cum.” He promises, your eyes widen, stinging harshly with their own promise of tears should you keep this up.

“b-but-“

“No buts. We’ll take of everything sweetheart, oll ya afta to do is write the resignation letter, then stay here as our pretty little housewife.” He kissed your clit before moving his thumb back in its place, circling slower this time. You gasp, a broken sob wrenching itself from your chest as your orgasm starts to slip away with the lack of stimulation.

“Please! Please Si! I-“

“Oll ya afta do is say it. Quit, find yourself a cute hobby, cook and clean for us a little. Oll ya afta do is say yes and I’ll let ya cum luv.” He grins evilly when you whine, blowing on your cunt before licking a hard long stripe from your puckered asshole to your swollen, throbbing clit.

“yes! please yes I’ll quit just pl-“

Simon doesn’t let you finish your plea, devouring your pussy like a man starved. He licks, sucks, and flicks your clit, slipping his thick fingers inside your clenching, empty hole thrusting them in and out doing his best to match the pace he set with his tongue on your clit.

You cum hard, untamed. Back arching uncomfortably, limbs shaking rigorously and Simon slurps up everything you give him. You lay there trying to catch your breath when Simon crawls up your body to hover over you. His eyes meet yours when he grins, “Good girl. Now why don’t we get started on that resignation letter hmm.” It wasn’t a question.

Safe to say you happily quit your job.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Question for #AEIWAM, about the Hogyoku: In Canon, Aizen is using one Hogyoku to figure out how to make Shinigami into Hollow, and Urahara is discovered to have a second Hogyoku when he tries to undo the Hollowfication on the group that would become the Visored. But it's never adequately explained where either of them came from, other than "they were invented by [Aizen & Urahara". In #AEIWAM, if the Hogyoku was used to make the first Kami, but using it for what Urahara & Aizen were doing, it seems so... low-powered. What if it's not two separate Hogyoku, but rather one Hogyoku split into two parts? Man, I bet Kaname was waiting for the best moment to tell Aizen that Urahara had one

Oh no.

It's MUCH stupider than that.

The *exact* nature and purpose of the hogyoku (and why the instructions for how to make one were just out there for Gin to find on the Soul King's worktable) are MAJOR SPOILERS for the TYBW arc of AEIWAM, but as far as functions go: A Hogyoku is a device used to accumulate massive amounts of Reiryoku (Soul Energy), compress and purify it, and then squeeze it out into an organism later to make it extremely powerful.

If you can guess the spoilers from those two sentences, you get a gold star and drafted into helping me write this damn fic.

I'm not sure where you got the bit about them being used to make the first Kami, but that is (at least now) not the case- Kami form from a similar function, but were not intentionally *made*, and not with a Hogyoku.

ANYWAY,

You are right, the two hogyoku in AEIWAM are under-powered compared to the original plan, but that's mostly because neither Aizen or Urahara could comprehend the sheer scale of Nobody's design, so what they actually made were, essentially Micro-hogyokus.

The Approximate Order of Events:

A fuckass long time ago:

Nobody, Ichibei and Shinso all get the shit stabbed out of them during the Godslaying Event.

Gin is formed from the physical and metaphysical viscera of all three.

As a result, Nobody dies, Ichibei is left a shell of his former self and Shinso loses his body.

Gin realizes that, with Nobody dead and Their various body parts jamming up the wheel of Samsara, there is a very real possibility the Current Life Machine will starve and die before it can give birth to the next one, and the universe they're in will retroactively cease to exist.

Gin decides the best course of action is to put the current Life Machine on life support so it doesn't starve or miscarry while he figures out how to unjam the wheel.

While Gin is figuring this shit out, Ichibei shoves Nobody's corpse in amber and locks the palace to prevent anyone from finding out the "Soul King" is dead, and traps Shinso inside.

Gin finds the plans for The Hogyoku (note the capitalization) on Nobody's worktable, and realizes a smaller version could be used to fill a single soul with an absolute shitwack of energy and that soul could then become an energy capri-sun for the Life Machine.

Gin, however, lacks the engineering knowledge or skill to actually MAKE a micro-hogyoku, let alone convince a soul to submit themselves to the torture of becoming a Divine Juice Box.

...Unless they think it was their idea in the first place.

Gin redacts a few key points about The Hogyoku, including it's scale and intended purpose, and then takes the redacted plans- which are not paper but Concepts- and travels to Spirit World, where most of the Reiriyoku is to dangle the plans in the dreams of various likely-looking maniacs that are slightly too smart for their own good.

late 1700's to early 1800's

After several false starts, Gin finally hits his mark in the disillusioned and bitter Sosuke Aizen, who lost his entire family in a series of catastrophes and is realizing just how cruel and incompetent the afterlife really is.

Aizen changes careers from "Assistant to the central 46" to "Shinigami" and starts his research into the nature of Reiryoku to build "his" vision to make himself God and Fix Everything Forever.

Gin continues jiggling the bait while he waits for Aizen to get some results, and finds a second mark in a bright-eyed and naieve Kisuke Urahara, who thinks he can use it to infuse hollows with whatever it is they're missing and Fix That Forever.

Satisfied that he now has a Juice Box and a Backup Juice box, Gin transforms into a human-shaped soul and appears as a child in the Rukongai as part of his long con to get close to Aizen and Urahara and keep them on track.

late 1800's ish:

Progress is SLOW with both men and Gin is getting frustrated.

Aizen is slighty further along, having learned about Arrancar and the growth instars of hollows while Kisuke was learning how to become a cop, so Gin enters the academy, speedruns it, and attatches himself to Aizen to herd him in the right direction faster.

Aizen is also fucking terrible at Opsec and is discovered by Kaname Tousen, who is immune to Aizen's Illusion Bullshit, but mistakenly thinks that Aizen's lackey, Kiganjo, is the mastermind, and confides in Aizen.

Aizen is about to straight-up murder Kaname to keep him from blowing it when Gin remembers Kaname from the academy and realizes that where Aizen has ambition instead of brains, Kaname is the real genius here, and will definitely speed things up.

Whether he wants to or not.

Shortly after Kaname is cursed into compliance, Kirio Hikifune is recruited into the Royal Guard and Urahara becomes captain of the 12th, where he devotes himself to figuring out how to make his hogyoku.

Everything is coming up Gin!

1900:

Despite being cursed all to hell, Tousen VERY NEARLY blows the whole operation by alerting the rest of the court guard to the location of Aizen's lab, but Gin is able to step in at the last second and stop him.

...By turning 14 of the Ninth's seated officers into hollows that were absorbed by the hogyoku, and the subsequent rescue party into hollows that Urahara spirits away.

Instead of absorbing the rescue party into his own hogyoku, urahara turns them into Visored and they all abscond to the living world/vanish as far as Gin can tell.

Fuck.

Gin redoubles his efforts to keep Aizen on track now that he only has one Juice Box, which means things get a whole lot worse for Tousen but hey, gotta save the universe and that means Aizen Absolutely Cannot Fuck This Up.

1980:

Aizen Fucks it All Up.

Gin has to sprint back to Soul King Palace to molt real fast, and in the fucking three days he's gone, Aizen:

figures out how to use the "export energy" feature on his hogyoku and

instead of exporting the energy into HIMSELF, Aisen makes a sort of super-hollow he calls "White" because that's his favorite color, and dumps all 10,000 souls worth of energy into it.

Aizen then orders Kaname to take White to the Living World to go fuck shit up, just to see what it can do.

Kaname, in the midst of an extreme nervous breakdown, abandons White in downtown Karakura because Aizen forgot to give him end commands, and goes to ground in hopes that Aizen gets his dumb ass killed doing this, or Kaname dies quietly before he can be forced to mutilate or kill anyone else.

Kaname's Obvious Nervous Breakdown is witnessed by Captain Isshin Shiba, who follows Kaname to his meeting with... someone, he looks like a human-shaped mirage? and some creepy-ass hollow, which Kaname takes to the living world and then just... leaves?

White starts to Fuck Shit Up, mostly by wandering around while being a dangerously radioactive to souls, and Isshin decides he needs to kill this thing before it destroys the whole city.

Quincy Prodigy and current host to the ghost of Quincy Freishutz sees White and has the same idea.

Looney-tunes ass battle between White, Isshin, and Masaki breaks out.

Meanwhile, Kaname's continuing nervous breakdown is witnessed by Yoruichi, who stalks him in cat form for a while before she senses the fight break out, and calls Urahara on the way to tell him Shit's Afoot.

Meanwhile, Isshin and Masaki are falling in love. Or at least, Isshin is falling in love with the most insane woman he's ever met. Masaki thinks he's a very cute tactical advantage.

White, all of two hours old, has no fucking clue what the fuck is happening, just that these asshole are trying to kill him.

Isshin and Masaki do a coordinated double attack that backfires and effectively tears everyone's souls in half- Isshin and Masaki are seperated from their Yume-kon: Engetsu and Quincy Freishutz.

Yoruichi gets to the fight and kicks White into two pieces that had not yet quite figured out who is king and who is horse, and then Yoruichi is KO'd by the resulting recoil.

Urahara arrives just in time to see his former coworker and some woman(???) with their souls falling apart, and two large glops of energy. Isshin demands urahara save this woman. Urahara, attempting to figure out how to do that: I can. uh. frankenstein your souls together? Masaki, seeing her way out of Yhwach's grasp: DO THAT.

Urahara uses his hogyoku to stuff the glops of energy into the holes where thier Yume-kon should be, then stitches Isshin and Masaki's souls together to contain the glops within both of them.

Inside Masaki and Isshin, Quincy Freischutz and Engetsu both fuse with/are absorbed by the glops formerly known as white.

This causes Isshin to develop severe amnesia and Masaki to lose her the use of quincy abilities/breaks her connection to Ywach.

Aizen realizes that his hogyoku is now Empty (and useless), but witnesses Urahara use his before absconding with Isshin and whoever that woman was.

Kaname wakes up in bed in the ninth with exactly zero memory of how the fuck he got back from his saw-trap-like bolt hole in the living world, and a really weird headache.

1983:

Isshin and Masaki get HAMMERED at a Halloween party and make Ichigo.

Both halves of the being formerly known as White jump from parent to child, taking whats left of Engetsu and Quincy Freischutz with them, and inside the fetal ichigo, the entities re-fuse into a chimera that decides its name is Zangetsu.

Zangetsu then promptly goes dormant because yume-kon are not supposed to be body hopping and reverse-parthenogenesising like this no matter how much energy they have to burn and he's TIRED.

Orihime's parents get drunk and have nasty hate sex in a closet during an office christmas party and make Orihime, setting Shinso's much better secret "Fix The Life Machine" plan in motion.

Urahara finally gets the idea "Hey maybe this hogyoku thing isn't a great idea"

He thinks that he can destroy his hogyoku by sealing it, then sealing it inside a sturdy mortal soul, and letting that mortal die.

Unfortunately, no souls in the living world can handle the radiation of the sealed hogyoku, so he's got to stuff it into a shinigami and then make that shinigami mortal.

2000:

Instead of doing the sane thing and stuffing it into the most immediately available shinigami (himself), Urahara fucks around for 20 years until Rukia comes around, and he stuffs it into her soul instead.

In a weird coincidence that ABSOLUTELY NOBODY COULD HAVE SEEN COMING, Rukia, who is patrolling the area Ichigo lives in, comes into contact with Ichigo, the kid whose parents Urahara stuffed full of hogyoku glop.

This contact makes the dormant Zangetsu WAKE THE FUCK UP, and reflexively slorp the soul energy out of Rukia. Instead of the full powers of Urahara's hogyoku, Zangetsu only gets Rukia's personal reserves, but its enough for him to be concious and see that OH FUCK THAT'S A BIGASS HOLLOW, ICHIGO'S GONNA DIE FUCK, FUCK WE NEED A WEAPON- BOW? NO, TOO CLOSE. SWORD? YEAH! WE REMEMBER HOW TO BE A SWORD!!

Thus: Shinigami!Ichigo.

This event trips Aizen's radar, and he starts his plan to get his hands on Urahara's still-active hogyoku/fuck over soul society/destroy karakura/make himself the new soul king

the first and second parts of that plan (mostly) work, and Aizen yoinks urahara's hogyoku from rukia and absconds with it, Gin and Kaname, who has been working on his own plan to break the curse, but is exhausted.

Aizen, just to be a dick to ichigo, kidnaps Orihime.

Kaname explains that the hogyokus are tools that consume souls and convert them into energy, and that Aizen is planning to use the one he stole from urahara to devour karakura and make himself into the new god. "What do you mean 'new' god?" "I'm like 99% sure the soul king is dead. there's God-sized body parts all over the spirit world." "Ah. Bad."

Aizen shows Orihime his own, empty hogyoku and monolouges about how only an incompetent and cruel god would make the living and spirit worlds like this. While he's distracted, Orihime grabs the hogyoku and eats it, bringing the next part of Shinso's plan to fruition.

Orihime starts being able to see connections other people don't but she's had AuDHD her whole life so that's nothing new. Her Shun Shun Rikka suddenly gets a whole lot stronger though, and she helps kaname start to break his curse by pulling the nails out of his spine with it.

At the battle of Fake Karakura, Kaname finally breaks his curse and beats the SHIT out of Aizen until he cracks Urahara's hogyoku that aizen loged in his chest, preventing it from absorbing any more power, so Aizen can't absorb real karakura and become a god.

In retaliation, Aizen decides that if he can't be god, then he will at least kill the gotei-13, and fuses with urahara's hogyoku to become stupid powerful

Zangetsu has been trying to speed-train ichigo but the kid is only 16 and this is the apocalypse unless they do something UHHHHH HERE KID, HAVE SOME OF OUR HOGYOKU POWERS YEAH THEY'RE HOLLOW FLAVORED DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT-

Hollow!Ichigo finishes kicking Aizen's ass until he's unable to fight back and surrenders, losing control of, but unable to let of his immense power.

Gin pops up from where he'd been pretending to be a corpse, paralyzes Aizen by stabbing him in the back of the neck, says "thanks kid!" and absconds with his Juice box back to Soul King Palace, and then to the workings of the Life machine beyond.

Gin puts Aizen into something that greatly resembles a horrible combination of The Machine from princess bride, a mouth, and a taffy puller, which operates in much the same fashion as all three to extract all that delicious soul energy from him.

2001:

Kaname wakes up from the coma Unohana had to put him in to let him recover on Valentines day, finally a free man for the first time in over a century.

It's not the first thing he does with his freedom, but kicking urahara's ass for making a hogyoku at all is up there.

Orihime continues to get... weirder.

...and that's as far as I've gotten with much specificity in drafts.

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Anger - A Joel Miller Drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: E (is there anything else with him?????) Truly this is the least crazy thing I've written in days. Unprotected p in v. Word Count: 1155 a/n: Sometimes I spend all afternoon trying to write Joel and get nothing and other times I write 1000 words in less than 30 minutes. There is no in-between. Written for TLOU Sundays!

"You've really gotta do something about him," Ellie tells you from where she's sitting at the kitchen table.

You're barely through the door, coat still covered in a layer of snow from outside. "Well hello to you, too, Ellie," you respond, pulling off your boots before you track any more water into the house. It's strange, how something like keeping the floors dry didn't matter for twenty years and now suddenly again it does. "You're the fourth person to say that to me today though, so I assume you also are talking about Joel?"

She's flipping through the pages of a comic, barely paying you any attention. "Yes, Joel," she emphasizes, not that you need any further confirmation. Maria had cornered you at the saloon, the other half of your patrol had been on your case, and you had a run-in with Jackson's resident grandma first thing in the morning, who gave you an earful about how you needed to learn how to satisfy your man so he would stop torturing the entire town with his bad mood.

You sigh, shucking your coat and flexing your toes in your thick socks as you make your way into the kitchen. "Any idea what's wrong with him? He seemed fine this morning."

Ellie shrugs, still engrossed in the pages in front of her. "I don't know, Dina just told me he was being a real fucking asshole. You know how he gets."

That you do. You're well aware of the way Joel Miller can make or break an entire day based on his mood, especially since you've been at his side to witness it longer than anyone else.

Before you can contemplate further, the man in question storms through the door, a grumble on his lips before it's even closed behind him. Ellie meets your gaze, glancing over at him before turning back to you and then quickly rising. "I've gotta get going," she says quickly, sneaking past Joel to grab her jacket.

She's out the door before he can even say a word.

"Where the fuck is she going?" he questions, ignoring the way his boots squeak on the floorboards as he makes his way to the couch, collapsing into it. A part of you wants to scold him for the wet spots now littered all over the floor, but based on the furrow in his brow, there's no use, and you simply follow him instead, swinging a leg over his thigh to climb into his lap and settle there.

Only he has the audacity to grumble. Again.

"Joel," you say sternly, "don't do that."

"Don't do what?" he fires back, and now you know exactly what everyone had been warning you about. "I didn't do anything."

"What's up with you today?" It's a simple question, an inquiry that he should have no problem answering, but he doesn't, so you continue with a follow-up request, "Just tell me why I had four separate people tell me that I needed to figure out who you're so angry today."

"I'm not angry."

You frown. "Bullshit, Miller. Tell me what the fuck is wrong."

His answer is to seal his lips to yours, his rough grip dragging your hips against his so you can feel the hard press of him between your thighs. This felt familiar, especially since he'd been in an equally shit mood the day you first met, something you'd promptly fucked out of him later that night. And usually, that did the trick, but there was always something else lingering beneath the surface.

Not that you have time to contemplate what it might be because he pushes any thought of his mental well-being from your head when he rips your shirt from your body and latches onto one of your breasts. Likewise, any train of thought is gone just as quickly as the remainder of your clothing.

It's a good thing Ellie left quickly, because within minutes he has you spread out on the couch beneath him, one of your legs hitched around his hip as he pounds into you. There's little space left between you, the moment feeling intimate even with the intensity of the way he's pressing you down, grunting with each thrust until he has you clenching around him.

His fingers are on your clit before you come down from your climax, already drawing you higher a second time. "Joel, fuck, I can't," you whine, gripping at his hand.

"You can," he emphasizes, "you're gonna take every fucking inch of me."

And then you can see it. The rage behind his gaze, the emotion that has his eyes glassed over. The anger he has to unleash somehow. It scared you when you first met him, the first time he had you like this back in Boston, pressed up against the door, the first time you watched his fist collide with a FEDRA officer who tried to touch you, and the first time you saw him have to kill someone who definitely wasn't infected.

But now, you know better. You know that he won't hurt you, but he still needs a way to release the pent-up emotion that boils beneath the surface. You don't know what happened to get him here today, but you do know how to fix it.

Joel groans when you shift to wrap your legs fully around his waist, pulling him down so the soft expanse of his stomach presses against your own, increasing the pressure of your walls wrapped around him. It's all he can do to rut into you, your back slowly snaking up the arm of the couch as he fucks you. The angle changes the higher you move, guiding his lips to yours so he can catch the scream that rips from your throat when you clench around him a second time.

He follows you into the abyss, pulling out seconds before he spills against your center, jerking himself off until the last drops drip down onto the fabric.

When he regains his breath he stands, cock softening as he moves to grab a cloth to wipe his spend from your core. And then he's pressing you into the couch again, settled in the safety of your thighs as his head rests on your chest.

"Do you wanna know what Mrs. Davis told me today?" you ask softly, fingers curling through his hair.

Joel rests his chin on your breast as he looks at you, eyes softer now, more playful. "Fuck, what did she say?"

You smile. "She saw me at the store and pulled me into the corner to tell me that I needed to get you home and ride your cock because she was sick of your shit."

His laugh is rough, but he says nothing else as he settles back against you.

"Was she right?" you ask, your own laughter threatening to bubble up.

He doesn't answer, but he doesn't deny it either.

[wenclair-more-like-whenclair]

If you’ve ever thought about writing smut or a sex scene but for some reason haven’t bc of fear or shame, this is your sign from God telling you that you should go for it. You should just go for it.

Genuinely, seriously, and completely unironically, writing sex scenes and exploring my favorite characters’ sexualities in writing has been one of the most healing and rewarding hobbies I have embraced in my adulthood. As someone who grew up queer in a hyper-conservative Christian space, I felt robbed of getting to explore sexuality in a healthy way, but writing smut can be such an amazing way to understand your own kinks and desires. Personally, it has helped me figure out what I am looking for sexually in a relationship and how I would like to be treated.

The internet has never had greater communities than the thousands of ppl on this app and ao3 who bond over a shared love of fictional character porn. Seriously, I have yet to think of anything more BEAUTIFUL and MAGICAL than the spiritual connection we feel across continents and all over the world just bc we believe that two men want to fuck. And trust me, there is something freeing and liberating about getting to write it yourself. Is there any kink you’d like to explore but are too shy to explore it with a partner at first? There is literally not a safer space than your own mind and the beautiful words you will create just trying to describe a cock going into a hole.

This is me fully affirming and supporting anyone across the world who wants to write about some fucking. DO THAT SHIT, man. It’s SO FUN. In my mid-twenties, my ideal relaxing day off is literally making myself a cup of hot coffee, turning on the lo-fi, and writing a good smut scene between one of my favorite ships. Literally the highest form of self-care imo. Nothing feels better. WRITE THAT SHIT.

[nanahachi3]

"I AM GETTING RIPPED TONIGHT" | Skz

Summary: Nothing but hard thoughts with stray kids members.

Warning: This contains short adult scenarios. Minors should not read. This is part 1, and I will release part 2 soon. It's not my best work because I was busy these past months and couldn't write it properly.

Chan

Woah this was big.

Your eyes were still widened as his words echoed through your mind.

It was 20 minutes left before your show, and you were nervous. Heck, it was your first time performing at Coachella, and Chris was here backstage with you, trying to calm you down, and this way was weird. How did he do that?

You already know the answer: he was naked in front of you.

Chris veiny cock hardened in front of your eyes.

You gulped the nervousness down to your throat. You were inexperienced, and you never gave any guy a blow Job, and it was also your first time seeing a cock.

“Pretty, don't worry. I know you will be amazing. It's fine. I know you can do it.”

You needed to touch his tip, Making him chuckle. He looked so cute right now, his blush face and his curls flowing down to his forehead.

Your eyes were hooded, the nervousness was slowing down as he gave you his shy smile, and you touched his cock from tip to whole length, giving it soft strokes. Every touch was tender and made him feel something in his heart.

“Baby use that mouth of yours”

You understood his words and wrapped your lips around his tip, and slowly and slowly, you took the whole cock inside your mouth. It almost choked you because it was your first time giving someone a Head.

And it was not just someone.

It was your boyfriend, Chris.

He groaned and let out a satisfied moan.

“Yes angel”

His fingers ran through your hair, stroking them as you nodded. Your mouth was full of his cock, and you looked so cute like that!

You moved your tongue slowly sending a shiver through his spine. His cock was wet by your saliva as your tongue licked his length and then you moved to suck down his cock.

“So good baby”

“I can't believe that you are this talented”

“Oof angel I love you and you look So pretty with my cock inside Your mouth”

He gave you praises and his groans were softened up because he didn't want the audience to hear you.

Your mouth was making him see the stars. He could feel him grow sensitive shit. He was this close. He didn't want to end up in your mouth. It was embarrassing since he had never come before so fast but now he was climaxing so fast inside your mouth.

He was feeling nervous more than you know because your pace was going fast now he could hear the filthy sound you were making from your tongue while sucking him off.

He tried to move you away because it was embarrassing to finish off Inside your mouth or at your face.

“Move baby I am close fuck!!”

You were stubborn and you gave him a last suction before you could move away, his cum shooting at your face covering your lips and nose with his white liquid.

“Baby I am so sorry”

Hrs grabbed the towel to wipe the cum from your face but you grabbed His hand to stop him.

“What?”

“I want it and I want this inside me”

You kissed his cock and laid him down on the couch before positioning yourself to insert his cock inside you.

“Angel Is needy hmm?” He chuckled and you nodded with your lusty eyes.

…………..

Felix

The relationship between you and Felix was wrong.

It was a stepbrother and step-sister trope between you.

Your parents recently started dating, and you guys were introduced to each other, but the problem was that you were attracted to your soon-to-be step brother Since he was also angelic.

His face was like an angel. It felt like he was carved by God himself. The way his freckles adored his face, the stars, and the glow around his eyes. He was a beauty, and not only his beauty, he was a sweetheart by nature.

It was 2:45 am, and you could not sleep. You continued to roll around your bed again and again. Felix was sleeping by your side, and you could not control how beautiful he looked.

“Angel, I am Sorry I am doing this”, he cursed as he removed all of your clothes. You could not process what was happening as the clothes you were wearing were shoved down somewhere on the floor.

His blonde hair fell onto your shoulders as He was finally inside you.

“I will move slowly, hmm?” Felix asked, and you hugged him, pulling him closer to you.

You bit your lips as the light illuminated you. The 2 AM sounds were relaxing. Many thoughts rushed through your mind as the pressure began building inside your body. The still purple lights fell onto your eyes. Felix pressed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Shall I move princess?” He asked as he slowly grabbed your thighs, leaving Some marks on them, and slowly and slowly, the pace started moving. You could feel the friction between your hips and his cock.

It was a slow and gentle trickle of sweat, glistening on the skin like small droplets of drain, his dark brown eyes sparkled as you could feel a different sense of love around you and him.

“Felix ah”, you cried and hugged him tighter. Your pussy was clenching him well.

It felt like You were made for him. He groaned, his voice crying against your ears. He left the small hickeys on your neck and chest area.

“Angel, You are so good” You smiled at his words.

He was hitting the spots where you wanted him to. The light was dim as you Continued to bounce on his cock. The groans and the messy moans spread around the room, the white bedsheets filled with your cums and sweat as you continued to fuck each other in different positions.

From doggy to cowgirl, he has stretched you well. Your cunt was still taking his Cock so well, so deep.

“Ahh, last time, I promise, sweetie. I know you can cum for me, hmm?”

“Ngh ngh’ you blinked. Your eyes were too tired to move now that you were hooded. As he pushed his cock once more against your cunt From behind and his left hand playing with your nipples and the other hand holding your hair.

“I am cumming, lix”, you cried out as you felt yourself, realising The wet hot white liquid once again on The sheets.

Felix pulled out this time as he was also close. He kissed your lips. Your hands kissed his Cock and jerked it till he finally spilled his cum on you.

“I love you angel this Pussy was made for me” he leaned down a bit and placed soft kisses on your clit.

You blushed and laid down on the pillow as he played with your clit leaving kisses or pinching it.

You were relaxed.

And Felix was elated.

Seungmin

Your eyes were rolled up. The lingerie that you wore was resting on the floor all stripped down from your body when you were busy walking or doing a runaway for your boyfriend while he was sitting on the couch.

Seungmin was hard after he saw the new Victoria's Secret lingerie that you brought specially for him but the poor lingerie was now stripped down somewhere.

Seungmin clenched your hair from behind ‘take it up you are a good pup for me aren't you?” your head was softly laid down on the pillow he was hitting your sweet spot from behind the grip on your ass leaving his nails marks on your skin.

“So sweet this pussy takes me so well huh”

“Who could have that you are such a messy whore” the drool on your lips leaked onto the pillow. He was being harsh on you whenever you disobeyed seungmin. He would punish you this way.

“Fuck fuck it's too much baby” you whimpered the laid back eyes your ass jiggling in the smooth motion. He slapped your clit as he kissed your shoulder leaving Some bites on it.

“Too much min” you once again cried out it was too much for you can't handle the pleasure or the punishment he was giving to you.

He slapped your ass a red mark on it “this ass was made to satisfy me”

“Tell me whore this cunt is mine!?” HE gripped your hair harshly and you nodded weakly.

It was the close moment where your legs gave up and shook as you cum the white liquid dripping from your hole and he smiled licking the cum from your pussy.

“This pussy is mine”

He slapped it before going to eating your pussy once again.

[undercvrfan444]

Shy!reader who wears a different uniform skirt in order to get Bully!Satoru’s attention and it works a little too well. He starts flipping up the back of her skirt when he walks past her to ruffle her feathers a bit. (he might have snuck a picture of two of what you looked like under that fabric.)

Bully!Satoru who continues to write you small notes and slip them in your bag but they’ve become nastier than before. Having things written on them like

“What a shame it would be for those pretty panties to be torn open with my cock stuffing your pussy to the brim.”

or

“Don’t you know prancing around in short skirts is just an invitation for me to do whatever I want to you?”

Bully!Satoru who continues tripping you when walking in the halls. This time though, it’s because he wants to press his hard erection into the plush feeling of your ass. He’ll lean down innocently so people don’t suspect him, “been thinkin’ of that gooey cunt all day bunny.”

Bully!Satoru who comes over occasionally to “help with homework” and always starts the session off with bruising the back of your throat so you can barely speak the next day.

This way he can purr nasty nothings into your ear and all you’re able to do is listen and take it.

Bully!Satoru who steals your lunch forcing you to come crying to him. “Beg me real nicely bunny, and i’ll give your lunch back.” But when you embarrass yourself by begging him kindly he gives you the box back to find it’s been eaten leaving you hungry and disappointed.

Bully!Satoru who is called out all the time for somehow finding a way to talk about you to his friends. Suguru teases you about it too when he can!

“So you’re the pretty little thing Satoru is hung up on?”

Two dark eyes rake over the little uniform that adorned your body. “He wasn’t lying about you.” And with that Suguru walked off, simply leaving you with a dumbfounded look.

Shy!Reader who stops Satoru in the hallway the next time you see him with an aggravated expression on your face. Your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you pushed a hard finger into the man’s chest. “What did you say about me to Suguru?”

Satoru’s shocked face pulls into a coy smile, eyes narrowing so he can lean into your space. “Why? I didn’t tell him anything that wasn’t true.”

“What did you say Satoru!”

Hearing his name on your lips sends shivers down his spine, loving how upset you were. His voice dropped lower, seeing how many people were turning heads to see where the commotion sourced from.

His lips graze the thin skin of your ear. “I told him how good your pussy feels around my dick. Told him about the way your face would scrunch up when you were about to c-“

A sharp *Slap!* echoed between you. Tears pour from your eyes at the embarrassment, angry at the misogynistic things Satoru said about you. It was hard to think of all the things you’ve done with Satoru knowing he must’ve told Suguru at some point. It felt invasive.

Bully!Satoru who felt like shit after you left. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from your back as you hurried out of school, away from the staring eyes. He knew he fucked up bad when you refused to answer his texts over the next few days, leaving him either on read or delivered.

He couldn’t stand the distance any longer. Saturday finally rolled around after you missed two days of school. The two days that you were gone felt like hell to him, whispers about what might’ve happened to make you slap him caused a certain edge to stick around. Satoru made his way to your house, knocking softly on the front door hoping you would listen to what he had to say. He could hear your feet pad up to the door watching the knob turn softly.

“Satoru?”

“Hi bunny,” his words are sugary sweet. You’ve never seen such an apologetic expression on Satoru’s face and honestly it was shocking to see him so flustered.

Shy!Reader who lets the Satoru into your house, reluctant yet willing to hear what he has to say. Truthfully you miss the handsome boy more than you’d like to admit despite him embarrassing you.

Bully!Satoru who follows you up to your room, pulling you against his chest with an “ompf!” the second he heard your door close. He’d never tell anyone this, but seeing you so angry with him ate him alive. At first he thought it was cute! The little attitude you wore was adorable until it morphed into stomach-churning disappointment aimed towards Satoru.

“I’m so sorry bunny, I had no idea it would bother you so much that I said those things to Suguru about us. The last thing I want is for you to think all I want you for is some stupid shit, let me make it up to you.” Softly his fingers curl into the smooth fabric of your shirt attempting to squish you further into him.

Silence fills the room like a thick blanket. Your heart beat rapidly against Satoru’s own; thoughts running wild while his expensive cologne wafted in your senses.

“It’s okay ‘toru.” slivers off of your lips before you can think.

Bully!Satoru who spends the rest of his day with you. First going to watch whatever movie you want to, buying every snack he could possibly think of even if you didn’t eat it just because he can.

You wanted to walk in the park? done.

Go browse a book store? he bought everything you touched.

Tired of being social? Satoru walked you home as he listened to you talk passionately about the description of your new books.

Bully!Satoru who begs for forgiveness through pulling your panties to the side and pressing sloppy kisses to your pretty cunt. Respectful pecks turn into haughty thrusts of his tongue, pushing your sticky walls apart. His moans tickle your thighs fervently while you squeeze his shoulders attempting to ease the building pressure in your lower belly. Satoru was a man after all, and he knew the cherry on top to his apology would be eating your pussy until slick dripped down his face.

Shy!Reader whose head was so fuzzy from the multiple orgasms, you let Satoru guide you into bed as the sun set. Once he’d finally cleaned up there was no stopping the rain of smooth kisses on your face. “I love you, bunny.”

“I love you to ‘toru.”

[russo-woso]

Interviewing chaos || G!P Beth Mead x reader

Request | Masterlist

Warning G!P content, blow job, risk of getting caught

Summary You tease Beth when she’s in the middle of an interview

A/N first time writing a G!P fic, let me know how I did 🫶🏻 I’d be willing to write more G!P players :)

“Love, my interview started in a five so I’m gonna be in the office for a quite a while.” Beth said, bringing you through a cup of tea.

“Okay, baby. Have fun.” You winked, Beth smiling back before running up the stairs.

You were gonna make sure Beth had fun, and you knew exactly how.

To set a backstory, Beth had woken you up with sloppy kisses on your neck.

The kisses got more passionate until you and Beth were pretty much naked, your bodies flush against each other.

Just as it was about to get more intense, Beth’s alarm rang, reminding her of the interview she forgot she had.

She got up, rushing around, leaving you all hot and bothered.

You got up and started your day though, keeping in mind an idea that could help get revenge on Beth.

And ironically, Beth had forgotten her coffee downstairs so you took it upon yourself to take it to her.

You creaked open the door to see Beth talking to the lady over her lap top.

Your plan was coming together.

You tiptoed in, placing the coffee on the table before falling to your knees.

Beth gave you a confused look, having a slight idea what you might be up to.

“Is everything alright, Beth?” The interviewer asked, Beth nodding immediately before gulping.

“Yeah, perfect. Sorry, what were you saying?”

The interview continued, Beth trying her hardest not to look down at you.

Beth’s breath hitched as your hand made contact with her.

Your hand slipped under her shorts, slightly pulling them down as your fingers wrapped around her.

Beth started speaking with her teeth slightly gritted, that way she couldn’t release a moan.

Your hand pumped up and down her length, Beth’s whole body stiffening at your actions.

You stopped for a split second, bringing your mouth to hover over her dick.

You took the tip of her dick into your mouth, sucking gently before taking her whole length.

You gagged silently as her tip touched the back of your throat.

Beth’s hand tangled on your hair, guiding you up and down the length of her dick.

You could feel Beth’s dick throbbing now, desperate to release.

Beth let out a ragged sigh as she tried her hardest not to moan.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” The interview asked again.

“Actually, can I just have two minute?” Beth quickly said, the interviewer nodding.

Beth immediately put the lap top on silent, angling the lap top away from herself.

“Fuck.” Beth cursed, watching you take her dick into your mouth. “Gonna make me cum soon, huh? Gonna be my good girl and make me cum.”

Beth’s grip in your hair tightened, giving you an indication that she was close.

“Shit. I’m coming.” Beth groaned, filling your throat up with her cum.

Her hips thrusted into your mouth one last time as her hips stilled.

You swallowed, giving Beth a look of contentment.

You let her dick fall from your mouth, Beth quickly pulling her shorts back up.

“As much as I love you doing that, please never do it in the middle of an interview.” Beth sighed, pecking your lips.

“No promises.”

[ceorl]

First of all let me just preface this by saying i still stand with what i said above. as a character i don't think Roland is a good person with good motivations. that being said!

I was very heated when i originally made this post and i feel like my intent did not at all come across. I'm not saying for everyone to pull out their pitchforks and light a fire to toss Roland on. and i'm especially not saying that Nora is a bad person for writing him as he is or his relationship with Andrew.

I'm saying that Rolands character is nuanced and needs to be treated as such. there's a lot to be said about Andrew's relationship with Roland and whether or not is had a positive or negative impact on him, or if it any impact at all. Personally, I don't think Andrew "takes shit care of himself" Minyard thought too hard on the matter.

I made this post specifically because i felt that as a fandom Roland gets egregiously mischaracterized and i think that is a disservice to both the character and Nora herself. Nora does an incredible job writing realistic and incredibly nuanced characters. Even the characters who are categorized as "good" do bad things and make mistakes throughout the series.

In conclusion: Roland is a complex character with complex motivations that we as readers can only infer at from what we get from the books and what i said in the original post is where i stand when it comes to his character. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

Things to remember about Roland:

- Andrew was 17 and Roland was 23 when they started hooking up

- couldn't keep to Andrews boundaries and needed to be cuffed

- willingly drugged customers

- when he saw Neil's fucked up scarred and bruised wrists he assumes Andrew did it

- until Neil made the deal about cracker dust Andrew was never sober when he was hooking up with Roland

He is not the cute and friendly bartender buddy you want him to be! I'm tired of seeing him portrayed as this fucking saint who has Andrews best interest at heart.

Roland is a predator who just happens to have a friendly persona

[corseque]

I honestly just wanted one single plot step that I could not predict given the 10 year wait. More behind the cut, I talk about Emet too, and I'm comparing his writing favorably to Solas' writing and why it worked better for me personally, but I am just talking about the writing skill that went into the games and not the dudes themselves, I love them both dearly of course. idk this is a mess and I am not going to edit it for clarity

For me, the game was a series of me saying

"ok I knew that. cool."

"oh yeah, I knew that. I guess it's good that the larger fandom knows about that now."

"nice, but yeah I already knew that too"

"that was something we've been talking about a lot for years"

"this thing they are acting like is a huge enormous reveal that the characters could not possibly have deduced through simply thinking about it in depth over the 10 years... the fans easily figured out by thinking about it in depth 10 years ago. So you would think his girlfriend would be able to figure it out more easily than we did. Like, why couldn't the game have been like 'oh lavellan already figured that out a while ago' it would have cost them nothing"

"this is something I've been thinking about for years, and now that it's being revealed, the companions' reactions to it are very irritating and jarring and unnecessary and I really dislike the experience I'm having right now, in this, the hour of my greatest triumph"

"this thing that is happening on my screen right now is something that I wrote an essay about 2 years ago describing how it would be a letdown if it happened without the correct setup"

"this way that they're characterizing Solas makes him less likable and less interesting than I have been finding him for all these years, and I have had people tell me 'no, he's simpler than you think' for years but I guess I was wrong, he really is simpler than I thought, so that fucking sucks. I wish I could take that information out of my brain."

"this thing is a retcon of information I have been thinking about for 10 years, and so I don't know how to follow along with this new direction, and I'm not sure if I even want to because it's not particularly interesting anyway"

"aw that was sweet"

"why is it like, so very impossible to have an honest back-and-forth with my favorite character about the dilemma that was most interesting to me about the previous game"

and then, as soon as, like, the other fans had caught up to the Solas lore that was really obvious from the other games, the game was.... over without anything surprising happening, or introducing a new element or plot point or perspective, or a real true twist (or two, or three) for those of us who have thought about it too hard for too long. It was very simple and easy, much, much, much, much easier than I was imagining. It all felt sort of like that Nicholson quote:

The thing was, the whole story was so interesting to think about because in 10 years, I couldn't figure out a good solution to it!!!!! It's why I was never able to write post-game fanfic about it. So I was stoked to find out some reveal we never knew about, some new information, in maybe a SERIES of steps of new information, that made the situation more complicated but also something that could be navigated by everyone involved. I know it was asking for a lot, but they had TEN YEARS, and they seemingly had set up the things they did in DAI on purpose, so surely they had some idea of a complex and satisfying narrative that would reconcile everyone.

The reason why I was expecting this is because FFXIV did a very similar story arc, which was started AND concluded WITHIN those 10 years (so it took the FFXIV team far less time to deliver as well). And the conclusion to the story in FFXIV did what I was expecting Dragon Age to do. So I thought, "holy shit, if this is the FFXIV version of this plot, how much more complicated is DA4 going to be!?!?" The DA devs also PLAYED FFXIV so they were completely aware, several years ago, of a satisfying story ending that was pretty darn similar.

People are probably going to think "oh, well Chelsea was disappointed because she spent too much time building it up in her head" but that's exactly it - I actually speculated and thought about FFXIV's story IN DEPTH NONSTOP for a year+ before its ending came out, and the ending absolutely blew me away. FFXIV Endwalker managed to introduce information and new story elements that I was not able to figure out in the YEAR I spent speculating on the ending of FFXIV's story. It took a complicated situation and revealed several several more facets to it that I was not able to predict, but were very interesting and thematically compelling, and took us all to surprising and climactic places that we could not have predicted.

Endwalker ("end" is in the title on purpose) too, was written to be THE ULTIMATE SATISFYING ENDING for a very long-running story in the exactly way that Veilguard SHOULD HAVE for Dragon Age, so while this complexity is being explored, FFXIV also gave catharsis to many different plot threads that have been built up through the previous expansions, until finally it ends with a bang. The story is desperately good to me, I loved it, it gave me closure for Dragon Age long before Veilguard was even revealed, and going back and looking at its story has made this whole thing far less painful for me.

So, I actually did not have a picture in my mind for how things SHOULD go. I just had the thought "I hope it's complicated and there are points of view or facts that we haven't before been exposed to, and the situation is resolved respectfully for Solas, not making him look like a fucking idiot (lol, the only thing I asked for). I don't even care what happens to Solas and Lavellan, I just need the story to be complicated and interesting to think about. Please, god, don't let it be "solas is wrong and he just needs to be convinced" because that's like the simplest story you could tell with this setup"

(btw they managed to tell Emet-Selch's story without making him seem like he's being an idiot on purpose or can never get anything right, and in fact the more the story goes on, the more you think of him as smart and capable and cool, so it is possible to write.... I wasn't asking for the entire moon)

And I played it and... yeah. Most of the story beats were more simple than I wanted them to be, a lot of them didn't make sense in my heart given the writing from Inquisition. (This is another essay, but if Solas' thematic story arc was always about him needing to let go of regrets, why was his personal quest the way it was? After that quest, doesn't he end up regretting not doing more....? Why did he never really talk about regret during Inquisition? If he was so trapped by regret, why was he able to do so many actions? It doesn't mesh well to me. The whole regret thing was very quarter-baked to me, I don't even like thinking about it.) His story never seemed like one that was as simple as being about one man's regrets, but then, I guess, it was always just about one man's regrets.

Emet-Selch's personal storyline (and the way it interacts with and affects the larger story) is very similar but much more cohesive and satisfying to me. It would be difficult to explain why without the aforementioned 5-hour essay. Emet-Selch's story IS about grief and anguish on a world-shaping scale in a similar way that Solas' was apparently always about letting go of regret, but Emet's story was also very pointedly and beautifully about that one theme for the entirety of his story from every tiny detail, from beginning to end - meanwhile, it seemed to me that they tried to introduce 'regret' as the main thrust of Solas' story only in the short story with the Regret demon onward.

From Inquisition just by itself, the closest I personally could get to a story theme for Solas was his inability to trust others hurting him and the world, but his trusting others in DA4 wasn't really addressed to my satisfaction. He is never required to trust anyone before the ending, he never opens up or makes himself vulnerable at all. People find out information about him, he never really dynamically opens himself. So the personal story I thought he had was never addressed at all, while a new one about regret was introduced that never made a ton of sense to me. And I don't think this is just because of my expectations - my reaction to FFXIV proves that I am able to meet good writing where it goes in surprising directions, as long as it's interesting and thoughtful and clear.

And I think this might be part of what people felt was off about the ending - Solas is sort of uninvolved in the revelations that are about him, and doesn't do much to be part of his own ending. Part of what I loved about Solas in Inquisition is that he is not controlled by you in any way, and so he feels like his own person with a very strong sense of character.

Anyway, Emet-Selch, in a very comparable and arguably more extreme plot position, is very involved in the revelations about himself, he always feels like a very strong character who cannot be affected by the player, and the whole situation is handled with deft emotion and care and delicacy. The story is comparatively very uninterested in litigating Emet-Selch or putting him on trial - the story allows you to simply feel the way that you feel in an organic way, and Emet's story spends that energy instead actually exploring his thematic material about grief and legacy, and the larger story theme of existentialism instead, in a way that is very refreshing and interesting. I've seen a lot of western stories tie themselves in knots over "redemption" and frankly it's almost never been interesting at all. Who cares about any of that. lol

(Now, I guess this is a matter of preference, because some people really like being able to shape a character's story, but idk I rewatched the ending of FFXIV and even though there wasn't a choice with Emet, because it isn't a branching story, his story felt more satisfying to me, maybe because there isn't a patronizing choice to be made for him. He is who he is, and he fulfills a very beautiful narrative role and purpose that no other character could in the story.)

I don't know how this could have been improved to me and still allowed players to choose Solas' ending for him, but I can actually think of a few different methods, none of which involve Rook condescendingly and patronizingly lecturing Solas as if Solas had never thought about a single aspect of this horrible situation he's in before that very moment that Rook lectures him lmfao.

All this to say... idk I'm writing this and I am not going back to edit it so it's stream-of-consciousness. But yeah

I just wanted the story to be complicated on a few more levels than I could have predicted. I genuinely don't care what happened, but I thought of a few twists like the Veil coming down and yeah, I was expecting A Single Twist or reveal to happen. In a Dragon Age game.

I wanted Solas to seem cool and capable and noble and smart, and actually feel like he was as old and experienced as he is.

I wanted a clear theme I could sink my teeth into

Like notice I didn't even say anything about Solavellan. Like I never in 100 years thought they were getting a happy ending where they were both alive in bodies, and I like that we got that, but I would honestly trade it for a more complicated story. To me, if a story is sad you can always write fanfic, but if a story isn't COMPLICATED, that's a much more urgent issue.

These 3 things DA4 didn't give me in a way that satisfied me but FFXIV did. anyway idk the way my hyperfixations work, I completely switch to a new subject so talking about Dragon Age is actually hard for me right now.

[sagesbard]

Okayy so this is my first time doing a request BUTTTT can you do Daisuke brat taming reader? Idk I just want him to be rough..😣🙏

Oooooo now this I'm actually excited to write :3

NSFW MDNI

Daisuke x bratty f! Reader

Daisuke was so tired. So done with everything. Swansea had been on his ass all day with stupid shit. He just wanted to go to his room with his girlfriend and have a decent night. Until you started teasing him, bending over to pick things up in a way you normally never did. A way you knew drove him crazy. The way your hips swayed when you walked towards him. Looking up at him with those big doe eyes. God he was so over today, honestly he was waiting for an excuse to take his frustration out on something. That something being you.

You've been bent over the bed for what felt like hours now. Tears brimming your eyes as Daisuke's hand came down on your ass once more. Making you jump and whimper at the contact. "Awww is the little bratty bitch crying?" He laughed meanly. " Too bad, looks like the consequences of her actions have finally caught up to her." He said, his brown eyes glaring down at you." Here's what you're gonna do, you're going to get on your knees and suck me off until I cum down that pretty little throat of yours then maybe, just maybe, I'll fuck you until you can't walk straight." He said, gently shoving you onto your knees in front of him. The bulge in his pants a dead giveaway to how much he was getting off on this. " Go on, get to work." He said, looking down at you. Your hands made quick work of his belt, pulling out his cock as you wrapped your lips around it. Looking up at him as his hand went to your hair. Gripping it gently as he thrusted into your mouth. Tears brimming your eyes as you gagged, Daisuke groaned as he huffed, fucking your throat as if it were a toy. You were practically soaking through your panties. Your eyes crossing while he fucked your throat. "Fuck m' gonna cu-um." He whimpered, that's the Daisuke you knew. With a few more thrusts he came down your throat. You pulled off and started coughing. His eyes were filled with concern as he held your face gently. "Color?" He asked. "Green." You replied. "Good, now get the fuck over here." He said, putting you face down ass up. His cock teasing your cunt. "I want you to apologize for being such a teasing little bitch today." He said, grinding against your entrance. "M' sorry Dai." You whined against the pillow. His hand came cracking down onto your ass once more. "There we go, that wasn't so hard was it?" He asked, pushing into you, burying himself to the hilt. Your back arching as he started a brutal pace. The only thing being heard in the room was the slapping of skin and your desperate moans. "This what you needed? To be fucked like a whore?" He asked, gripping your hips harshly. You nodded as you hummed a small 'mhmm'. You were so close, you just needed a little more for you to cum. Daisuke stopped. "Beg. Say you're sorry and that you won't pull anything like that again." He said, a smile on his face. "I'm sorry, I won't do anything like that again I promise. Just please let me cum." You whined. "Atta girl." He said, speeding up his movements again as he reached around your body. Playing with your clit as your eyes crossed. That knot in your stomach snapping as your came all over his cock. It didn't take long for him to cum after. Once you two were tied out he laid down next to you. "Was I too rough baby?" He asked, those puppy dog eyes coming back within a second. "No it was great." You said with a smile kissing him sweetly. "Good."

[weirdero]

I’ve seen a lot of people speculating that Gemma’s storyline will lead to a cloning reveal, which like, it’s a decent theory and wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But god, this show is so specific and detail oriented Ben Stiller himself has even said nothing in the show is a coincidence. The cloning theory has also been shut down a couple times by some producers and writes from what I understand and idk I feel like a cloning reveal would just be so boring. And honestly, I don’t know if this is insane, but I’m fully leaning towards the idea that when it comes to Ms. Casey/Gemma, it’s more of a resurrection situation.

Okay so hear me out I believe our Ms. Casey is still physically Gemma her original body, her bones, her blood she’s alive baby that’s her but like also it’s not her. It’s like in horror or fantasy stories when a character dies and comes back but comes back wrong YK?. Physically it’s still them but it’s not them. In my opinion, her brain has been completely reset, wiping away whatever kind of person she used to be.

To back this theory I’ve been heavily leaning on the interaction between Ms. Cobel and Helena in the parking lot and just the general existence of the Mammalian Nurturable department.

Now, I might be reading into this too much, but I just love these characters so much and this show so please bear with me, this is a long one.

this season Harmony/Ms. Cobel is a problem. Like there is just no way she isn’t. Lumon is already struggling to keep it together after the scandal the main four caused, and a change in management isn’t helping. People are (probably) starting to pay attention, and they do not need that kind of heat. Ms. Cobel literally crashing tf out making herself homeless and sneaking around in the dark probably isn’t helping.

Helena’s choice of words have always stood out to me. She’s calculated, smart, and precise in how she speak just like Harmony. Both of them are masters at saying exactly what they need to without ever outright saying it yk? So when she she spots Cobel in the parking lot in the middle of the night she clocks her immediately.

Harmony walks out as if she still has a job in that bitch and has the audacity to tell Helena what her needs are and exactly how they should be met. And in my opinion, Helena is appalled but not surprised. She calls her out on her behavior.

“I hear ego, hubris, and arrogance. Kier teaches us they only cause pain.”

To me, this isn’t just a read it’s a warning. Harmony doesn’t take it. She bites back, calling Helena a NEPOTISM BABY. wild.

And I mean look at Helena’s face.

So Helena lays it out for her as plainly as possible

“We didn’t have to ask you back.”

No translation even needed, she just said it flat out Baby, we don’t need you here. You do not, no matter what you think, represent us. You are not Lumon.

And Harmony, being just as cunty clocks her shit right back

“You didn’t have a choice.”

At this point, Ms. Cobel isn’t just skating on thin ice she’s walking across a frozen lake in metal combat boots, her ass skipping around as if the ice won’t break. And that’s her mistake.

Helena, after giving Harmony multiple chances to walk away. Multiple chances to come back in on lumons terms. Multiple chances to stop playing in her fucking face, finally pulls back with a kind smile and offers her a chance to “restart”.

As they walk towards the car, Ms. Cobel locks eyes with Helena’s bodyguard and the instant terror is actually insane. Full deer in headlights.

A lot of people saw that shot and took it as a straight-up Sopranos esque death threat like, if she gets in that car, she’s not gonna survive the drive (RIP Audriana). And sure, it could be as simple as that, but this show is just way too good for it to be that simple.

I think Cobel recognizes the bodyguard. She knows him and I mean like fr knows him.

I saw a theory on Reddit suggesting that the bodyguard might be someone she knew maybe a former coworker, someone from her personal life (they suggested it could’ve been someone she was super close with before she even became the woman we know today) idk just somebody she knows knows and out of nowhere suddenly, he’s here, presented as Helena’s bodyguard. But it’s not him. It’s his skin, his bones, his blood but it’s not HIM.

And the way it plays out, it doesn’t seem like the bodyguard recognizes her at least not in the same way she knows him. That stare man that stare. I didn’t even know Harmony could experience fear. Who knows, maybe in that moment she’s reflecting on everything that’s happened. She bitched out the boss’s daughter in this empty ass parking lot on the brink of a mental break down, and suddenly there’s a chance to start over. All she has to do is get in that car, with that man, talk to the higher-ups, and hit the “reset” button.

Basically my theory is that Lumon are essentially grave robbing the fuck out of that town. Taking people who have been in serious accidents car crashes, house fires, construction site falls, factory explosion, hell even a drive by. I also think they’re also taking drug addicts, the homeless people who have no loved ones looking out for them, or even looking for them at all, the ones who are confirmed to be gone in every way, physically or emotionally. They’re taking these people and giving them a full system reset rebooting the computer.

By doing this, Lumon gets to create a free labor force that works 24/7 without question or resistance, exploiting people who have no emotional ties or support systems. Blank slate baby! They’re also using these individuals as test subjects for whatever weird shit they wanna launch out as a new product.

This helps explain a lot of the weird shit going on with the employees at Mammalian Nurturable. They look so rough and are also really off-putting towards outsiders. Which is understandable but I genuinely believe they haven’t even “clocked out” in days, if not ever.

Even though this theory makes the most sense to me, It still has its plot holes like if Gemma isn’t a clone and it’s her “resurrected” where does she go when she’s not her innie. In Season 1, she tells Mark she’s only conscious as her innie for a couple of minutes at a time, and the longest she’s ever stayed “alive” was the 8 hours she spent with his department. So where tf is she if not there as Ms Casey i don’t know man I do not know.

Anyways I have some other general curiosities about the town itself and why Lumon decided to build their main building there. I saw a TikTok video of someone saying it reminded them of company-built towns like Hershey Pennsylvania or Kodak Town, and I agree. Anywho I love this show so much it hurts I hope it never dies I literally missed having an obsession this intense I hope it gets all the love and awards it deserves!!