#because some of you are nasty for being supportive of such fantasies

[randomprosho]

"thought crimes aren't real" is only meant for fiction, not something for pedos/zoos/necros to use as an excuse for their fucked up fantasies involving real people/animals.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the shadow’s soul obsession

kinktober, day five

a/n: extra, extra! come get your nasty monsterfucking, hot off the press!

summary: for the entirety of the rest of the night, you felt as if you were being watched. However, what you mere mortal didn’t know, was that the group of you college girls hadn’t been successful in communicating with any spirits on that autumn eve, but instead had been successful in cracking open a door, just wide enough for a demon to slip through.

warnings: demon!bucky barnes x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, college au, halloween party, accidentally summoning a demon at a slumber party, bucky needs to "recharge his batteries" via sex (but virgins are the most potent), bad friends, monsterfucking, somno, loss of virginity, blood (just fit this fantasy), slutty demonic magic, kissing, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay, references to gaping and fisting

word count: 2602

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

“So, do you know yet what your costume’s gonna be for the omega kappa beta party?”

“Alice,” you looked to your friend leaning against the opposite side of the kitchen island, “I don’t even know if I’m going.”

“Oh, come on,” her head tilted, “you have to!”

“Yeah,” the blonde to your right then teasingly suggested, “you could go as an angel since you’re already just as sweet and pure as one.”

With each passing moment, the end of October crept ever nearer. You were at a slumber party with a few of your friends, who unlike you, didn’t still live at home with their mothers, but instead in a sorority house on campus. 

The door to the kitchen then swung open and one of the other girls came waltzing in, “hey, look what I found!” she held what looked like a faded board game above her head. 

“Oh my god,” Alice gasped, “is that what I think it is? Where did you even find it?”

“The attic,” she plopped the box down on the table and the lid popped off, letting everyone spot the old Ouija board inside, “so, anyone up for contacting some ghosts or what?”

When everyone around you swiftly agreed in the spirit of the season, you were the only one who didn’t, although the teasing that quickly drowned you, about you being a scaredy cat, pressured you into joining despite your initial fear. 

Most of the girls leaned into your amusing anxiety and made the game more dramatic than it needed to be, taking every chance they got to make you jump in your seat. But none of their attempts rivalled the one towards the end when one of them spooked you so fiercely that your body shrivelled up and a shrill scream tore its way out your lungs. They all laughed at your reaction and abandoned the board, too entertained by the success in scaring you to continue and wrap up the pretend ritual in the proper way.

However, during every second of the eerie game and even ever past that, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, though it wasn’t just because of how scared you admittedly were, as there was someone else, something else, that caused that sensation to bubble up within you. 

For the entirety of the rest of the night, you felt as if you were being watched. However, what you mere mortal didn’t know, was that the group of you college girls hadn’t been successful in communicating with any spirits on that autumn eve, but instead had been successful in cracking open a door, just wide enough for a demon to slip through.

From the second the sliver of him slipped through, Bucky felt drawn to you and instantly became completely and utterly entranced by you. Your soul was so bright and pure it nearly blinded him as he felt himself grow stronger merely from your presence. 

Who would have thought such luck would have been on his side, for with a perfect and potent little virgin like you in his gasp, an entity such as he would be able to restore his full power in no time. 

And when you eventually fell asleep on the couch and he greedily let his spectral touch ghost across your form, sliding off your blanket and coping a feel over your pyjamas, each caress he ravenously claimed felt to him like his lungs once again expanded and filled with oxygen, like he became a little more corporeal and regained just a little bit of his powers the longer and the fiercer he groped you.

Though what he truly needed to regain his full potential, unfortunately, had to wait, as his demonic grip caused you to stir from your slumber just enough for you to roll over into a new position and fall asleep again, never to think more of it than just a light slumber. But perhaps if he kept it up long enough, he’d soon regain enough of his prowess to make sure you wouldn’t rouse no matter what he stole from you in order to return to the grand demon he used to be. 

The home you returned to the next day was just as empty as expected with only a kind note stuck to the fridge as an echo of your mother, reminding you that she wouldn’t be back from her business trip till far into the coming week. 

When darkness fell upon the town and the moon rose up high in the sky, you went up to bed and swiftly drifted off into sleep. 

As Bucky leaned down over your slumbering form, he smiled as he let a finger trace the edge of your face before he bent down and pressed his lips to your own. 

Now, it wasn’t just a kiss he gave you, but a fiendish hex that forced your frame to keep on sleeping, no matter what, until the sun once again crested over the horizon. 

“As much as I’d love for you to wake up and have you witness everything I’m about to do to you,” he brushed some of your hair out of your face, “we can’t have that,” his broad thumb briefly stroked your cheek, “at least not yet…”

Ripping the duvet off, he watched as goosebumps rose and dotted your skin from the chilly night air, how your nipples turned into pebbles beneath your thin nightgown. 

While his consuming gaze raked down your form, his grasp pushed your sleepwear up and let it bunch around your hips, granting him a view of how the cotton of your underwear moulded around your soft centre. 

A smirk twitched at the corners of his lips as he let himself drift back down, closer to your slumbering frame, “let’s see if we can fix this little problem…” before he pressed a hot kiss to your covered core, briefly running his split tongue over the fabric as the effects took hold. 

When he tilted back, it wasn’t just his own saliva that now drenched your panties, but also your own juices as he had successfully scrounged up enough of his power to force your pussy into a state of desperation, making it extraordinarily leaky and sticky with cream and quite literally drool for him. 

With a primal growl, the throbbing between his legs swayed him to dig his grip into your underwear and tear them off, tossing the shreds off to the side before he spread your legs wide. 

Enclosing his fist around the base of himself, angry and flush in his grip, he offered himself an ouch of relief as he stared down at you.

“Hell… what I wouldn’t give to hear you moan and scream for me… to see fear arise in your mortal eyes at every little thing I’ll offer you… but that’ll have to be another time… can’t have you wake up and ruin the ritual…”’

As he rubbed his fat cock against the mess he’d made of you, he couldn’t help but smile at the staggering difference as his unholy length weighted down upon you, making you look so tiny in comparison, so easy for him to just break. 

“Would you beg me to stop? Would you cry about how big this devil dick is? Whimper about how you couldn’t possibly take it, not even if you weren’t a pure little prude? Yeah, you probably wouldn’t even be able to take it then…” a dark chuckle then crackled within his broad chest, “good thing I don’t care,” before he ruthlessly slammed his cock inside, stretching your poor pussy out beyond belief. 

He let out a deep moan at just how incredible you felt around him, how he had to strain himself to work past your strangling tightness and bury himself completely in your haven. 

“Oh, well would you look at that…” a sly smile crept up on his lips as he glanced down at how you struggled to take him and spotted the tinge of crimson that stained his fat girth as he momentarily retracted, pulling out just till your cunt only clung around the bulbous head of him. His digits floated down to swipe some of your virginal blood up onto the pads of his fingertips before he brought them up to his lips and groaned as he let himself taste your ruined purity, letting himself regain even more of his vigour, “you are just fucking perfect…”

As he let his frame drift down closer to you, he draped himself over your slumbering form as he thrust mercilessly into you, watching you closely at the way his efforts caused you to writhe and tremble in your sleep.

Nibbling at your neck, his lips wandered further down as he ruthlessly rutted into you, splitting you open like the savage monster that he was, and eventually sank his sharp teeth into your shoulder. 

With a low growl, he pushed himself back up, though even as the movement threatened to let his colossal cock leave the warm embrace of your tiny hole, his hands roughly found your hips and brought you back down onto him. 

“Fuck…” he lifted your hips off the mattress and made your back arch obscenely as he used you like a toy, “you’re such a little whore and you don’t even know it yet…” his possessive grip dug into your hips so fiercely that his nails drew blood and left angry scratches in their wake. 

His black eyes then found the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in your lower belly at each and every one of his thrusts, “can’t wait to see how you react when you wake up tomorrow morning, all sore and swollen, wondering why you’re so sensitive. If only you knew that some big bad demon followed you home and tortured your pussy all night long…”

Perhaps his brutal fucking had forced your slumbering form to orgasm more than once, though it was hard for Bucky to ignore it when you came this last time as you squirted all over his fat girth. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he chuckled and kept up his ruthless rhythm, never pausing once as he made your gushing pussy give him each and every drop, “I knew it was true that virgins pack the most powerful punch for us unholy folk, but damn…” he slammed you down against him hard enough for his bullying tip to bruise your cervix, “you’re even better… I might just have to keep you after this…”

And when he soon tumbled over the edge and pumped your little pussy full of his demonic seed, his ethereal form flickered till it wasn’t at all ghostly any longer, till his full power regenerated and he now sat on your bed clear as day with his spent cock limp against his thick thigh and horns protruding from his temples. 

Briefly, he swept his broad hand up your stomach before it scooped down to where you leaked with his essence. 

“Look at you,” he pushed two fingers into your mess and pumped his hot cum that much deeper inside of you, “you’re still so fucking tight…” he struggled to force another thick digit in beside the others. As his cock began to twitch and swell once more, he quietly groaned, “guess that just means we aren’t done yet… you might have helped me with my little problem, but this ain’t over,” he tried and failed to slip his picky finger in beside the rest, “I haven’t finished breaking you in yet, little human,” his free hand found himself in silky strokes, “I won’t stop till you’re fucking gaping for me, till I fit my whole fist up in here,” his thumb quit its attempts at sneaking inside and instead extended up to crudely strum your puffy pearl, “till you’re utterly ruined and completely perfect for me…”

The bassy music rumbled the entire frat house like an earthquake as you leaned over to whisper to Alice that you’d be right back from your libation location mission. 

Though when you stumbled into the kitchen, the crooked feathery wings on your back brushing against the doorframe as you passed, a loud sigh escaped you as your eyes scanned the various bottles lined up on the messy counter and discovered them all to be empty, “argh, seriously?”

That was exactly what you needed. 

To be at a wild Halloween party without any alcohol in your system to make the obnoxious people more bearable and make you forget how you’d rather just go home and try to sleep as none of your efforts all weekend had granted you any ounce of rest, only left you more exhausted than the day before and bizarrely enough also making you sore in the oddest of ways. 

But then as all hope seemed lost, a voice echoed from the corner of the kitchen, “hey, you like tequila?” and you glanced up to see a man in an elaborate demonic costume holding up a full bottle for you to spot. 

“Thank you,” your tense shoulders dropped slightly as you offered him a smile and stepped closer, “though I don’t know if an angel like me should accept a drink from a devil like you,” the joke slipped out of you as you neared him. 

As a bright grin crept up on the man’s lips, he light-heartedly squinted down at you and played along, “hm, yeah, you’re probably right. We demons are an untrustworthy lot. But, I am your only chance at getting drunk and numbing these dumbasses out,” he seized a plastic cup and began to twist the cap off, “so, what do you say?”

“What’ll it cost me? To make a deal like that with a devil?” you kept up the gag, “just my soul or do you want my firstborn or something?” 

Naturally assuming that the handsome stranger was still just joking around, you saw him smile as he poured you a drink and uttered, “oh, your soul will do just fine, sweetheart.”

As he handed you the cup, he joined you as you raised the hard liquor up to your lips, taking a sip of his own straight from the bottle, though he somehow didn’t make a face like you did when the harsh booze poured down your throat, in fact he didn’t even blink as he tipped the bottle back and kept his intense stare glued to you.

“Your costume is really amazing,” you complimented as you let your gaze wander over his burly frame, “your coloured contacts? And those horns? I’ve never seen prosthetics as good as those before.”

You thought the flattery would have pushed him to elaborate, but instead, the mysterious man just murmured, “thank you,” and didn’t entertain the subject any further. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” you uttered and noticed the few grey hairs that faintly speckled his scruff, “are you a professor?” 

“No, I’m not,” he shook his head.

A shiver ran down your spine as his stare continued to stay glued upon you, “then what are you doing at a frat party? No offence, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you just look a bit too old to be a student. Not that you couldn’t be, maybe you are–” 

“I’m not a student,” he cut you off, “I just haven’t been feeling that well lately and the person who helped me get better is here, so that’s why I went out tonight, to this college party of all places, to thank her properly and hopefully make her all mine…” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[gamblersdoll]

an: this one may not be suitable for all readers

sometimes you were a nasty bitch. like, really, really a nasty bitch.

so nasty to where you tended to like being called a slut, some cockdrunk whore from down the street who loves big men.

so nasty to where you loved being spat on, a man so mean to you and pulling at your hair like handlebars. even when your black tears of mascara dripped down your face.

so nasty to where you had fantasies about your boss bending you over his desk and fucking into you for such a raise, it became a one time thing.

so nasty that youre fucking your best friends father. and not only that, your friends father knew you for so, so long.

you had came back from college, coming home for summer break and seeing all of your old friends from highschool. of course, you had to see your best friend, megumi.

megumi and you were tight, staying together as best friends since you were practically kids was the longest relationship youve ever even had. of course, there was ups and downs, but its reality.

you had came home only last week, settling in at megumis house because yours was full of people your sibling had over. you, knowing that megumi’s house was your second home, went there second.

and to your disappointment, megumi was staying at yuuji’s house for a bit. no biggie, you knew his father well enough. toji was more the quiet and speak when spoken to type. ever so rarely would he speak first, but when he did it was sometimes either sarcastic or serious.

“you can stay in megumi’s room, you know where its at.” he pointed, not facing you and only finding his shoes to go off to his gym for that couple of hours.

that was a mere day ago when that was said.

sometimes toji did want to just ramble, so every now and again, hed just start a conversation with you when both are in the kitchen.

“yeah, megumi’s mother and i had divorced a couple of years ago. it was stressful, to say. but sometimes that just happens.” he vented, not seeming too fazed by it. he was somewhat right, marriages did come with divorce too, but its all about the persons.

“im sorry to hear.” you mumble, fingers tapping on the mason jar. “on a brighter note! how have you been this week?” you try to change subject, usually being great at this.

“ive been good.” he blankly says back, washing whatever dishes could be in the sink and occasionally looking at you. god, youve grown up so much— and fast too. he remembers when you were just barely moving here and you befriending megumi.

was it wrong that he was looking at his sons friend like this? maybe. and was it wrong you were somewhat looking at his print too? definitely.

that was almost four days ago when that was said.

you both were more open to conversations, both bored and of course megumi was coming over any time soon. so what harm was in having a conversation with his father?

“im glad you passed, youve always been great with color guard.” he praises, a small smile until he involuntarily licks at his scar.

things like that could make a girl hot and bothered. no, thats wrong. thats nasty.

but you could feel his lingering eyes on your grown up body, seeing the curves you developed and the pretty ass thighs you got from the slight athleticism. youre shaped so good, could make a grown man hot and bothered.

“you know..” he trails off, finally peeling his eyes from you and then staring at his phone again.

the relationship between you two spirals, soft touches that can be seen as innocent, but only you two know what either of your actions mean. and because of toji having to be a single dad at some point, his cooking could speak volumes. volumes that you could fuck him good with.

that was a week ago.

you were really some nasty bitch that was hidden with your face and mouth.

telling by the way you sat back, legs spread wide and toji having his face in your cunt.

“how the fuck do you taste even sweeter when i go back for it..?” he growls the question, hands supporting under your thighs to keep them apart. “so fucking wet.”

your moans vibrated in your throat, fingers in his hair and tugging so tight when he gets that good spot on your clit. the spot that makes you snap your legs closed and had you cross eyed.

he chuckles meanly, tongue flicking at your clit and he spitting the arousal mixed fluids back onto you.

until he hears a door open, him stopping and putting a hand over your mouth. he glares at you for a second, “hush.” he says.

“dad!?” megumi yells through the house, your heart stopping and nervous.

“yeah? what you doin home so early?” he yells back, his thumb giving small circles on your clit. he listens to megumi, then smiling evilly and chuckling. “well, just came home from gym so im showerin’!”

words exchanged, he goes back to laughing a bit. you couldnt find this funny, what if he catches you both and tells everyone?

“what are you freaking out about?” he looks and asks, dumbfounded face apparent.

“what about megumi, your ex wife finding out?” you whisper shout, nerves bad and jittery.

“well, they was gonna have to find out, somehow.” he shrugs, eyes lowering to you and. hell no, you couldnt risk that.

you start to gather your clothes, or at least attempt to. “mm–no you dont, come here.” he softly says, hands on your hips and face going back to your clit. “oh, im going to have so much fucking fun with you.”

you bite your lip, eyes squeezed shut when he goes back to slurping your clit and tugging at his hair. “toji, what if i get too loud?” you try to say, almost cut off by a moan.

“i dont fuckin’ care.” he says quick, pulling himself away from your clit. he looks to your panties, grabbing the pair and shoving them in your mouth. “you are the one who has to be quiet.”

you moan soft, toes feeling like to cramp because of the hard curls. “you have a choice to make.” he says in between sucks and slurps. “either you can stay here.. cunt open, legs spread wide–“ he says, but pulls you back in when you squirm, “aht aht, dont you go anywhere.” he says, kissing your clit and sucking while his tongue goes in and out of your walls.

“either you can stay here, cunt open.. legs spread wide.” he repeats, he kissing your clit and labia. “and cum on my fucking tongue..” he starts again, “or you can make me stop.” he goes for your nipple, fingers pinching at the bud, “ill pull my tongue out of your cunt..”

“and you can put your clothes back on and pretend like nothing happened.” he says mouthful of pussy, hand’s massaging your thighs.

he pulls away, looking up at you. “whaddaya’ want?” he asks, chin and nose glossy from spit and cum.

you try to pull his head back down, him being awfully stronger than you and he laughing. “thats my good girl.” he laughs again, leaning up to kiss you. a growl forms, “fuck!” he says in anticipation.

“dad? you good?” megumi shouts out, concern but uninterested as well.

“yeah, slammed my toe.” toji shouts back, mental focus back to your cunny and his eyes rolling back from the sensory overload. megumi doesnt show back, both of you hearing him leave the house and car cranking up.

“get on your belly.” he says, yanking the panties from your mouth and flipping you over. you chirp, ass getting goosebumps from the exposed air hitting it.

“gunna fill your belly with my hot fucking cum.”

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Bexxx my darling. We’ve had the conversation, are horny for the concept so I’m pounding this into the ask box even harder than they’re gonna pound the damn reader.

AU!Billy, Stu, Mickey and Ethan x reader. All alive or as Ghosts whichever is best. All of them going full blown slut on the reader, Stu in the mouth, Billy in the cunt, Mickey in the ass and Ethan in the hand (until he’s not *wink*) . We’ve discussed a lot of it already so GIRL, I know how you’re going to go with this. In advance, poor, sweet Ethan, slutty teasing Billy, supportive icon Stu and Mickey with the GUIDING. I’m going to burst into flames.

I LOVE YOU DUDE!

BITCH, I LOVE YOU! I wrote this all tonight in one sitting, I hope you all enjoy this! Billy AND Stu AND Mickey AND Ethan?! I mean, say fucking less, that is a dream I need to experience. Multi-May continues! I hope you all love this straight-up nasty smut in the afterlife.

---

Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.2K. Poly!Ghostface. Billy Loomis/Stu Macher/Mickey Altieri/Ethan Landry/AFAB! Dead Victim Reader! She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Five-Some. Orgy. Hair Pulling. Gagging. Group Sex. Hand Job. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Triple Penetration. Vaginal Sex. Throat Fucking. Anal Sex. Pre-Mature Ejactualation. Sloppy Seconds. Multiple Orgasms.

---

"Four In One."

You have never been so fucking full. It was taken right out of your most depraved and wild fantasies, an impossibility and yet here you were, mouth, cunt, ass and one of your hands full.

In the vague haze of your mind, you are reminded of a phrase for being in this exact situation, that being “completely airtight”. 

Some people might think that sex in the afterlife is not a thing, however it was one of the most beloved pass times, you have no physical limitations and nothing but time, it only makes sense. 

You being a victim that had fallen to Ghostface most would assume you’d hate them. You did at one point. Eternity is a long fucking time, though. 

So you got involved with the man who killed you and a few other previous Ghostface’s? It was your business, you were dead, you didn’t care if any other victims or whoever judged you, especially when it felt this fucking good. 

They had managed to get you into a good position, and with all of them helping, you didn’t need to worry about holding yourself up, which is good because you were fucking boneless. 

Billy was buried in your cunt, Stu was in your mouth, Mickey was in your ass, and you had a firm grip on Ethan. The smell was heady, the chorus of moans and skin on skin was obscene, and you were unable to stay still, being pushed and pulled in multiple directions, covered in sweat and thankful for the fact you didn’t have to worry about breathing. 

Stu was pulling your hair, dragging you nearer, your nose pressed to coarse hair, his head tipping back with a moan, “Fuck yes, when you swallow around the head it feels fucking fantastic-” He pulled harder, and you gagged, you didn’t really, but you knew Stu liked when you did, so you mimic it, you feel him throb on your tongue and Billy groans. 

“When she gags she clenches beautifully, man.” He breathed and Mickey agreed, “God yeah, she feels fucking perfect tonight.” 

You are soaking up the praise, pleasure sinking into the very marrow of your bones, you manage to open your eyes, curious why Ethan was being so quiet, and he is staring right at you and oh no. The poor boy. His curls are sweat soaked, bottom lip tugged by his teeth, face flushed, and it is spreading down to his chest, when your eyes lock he moans, he is pulsing in your hand and Stu notices the moment you, and he were sharing. 

“You alright there, Eth?” Stu asked, and the response came out strained, “Feels so good, too fuckin’ good, sh-she looks and God, how she sounds, I-I dunno if I can make it-”

Billy cuts in, his hips slowing, “Oh hey man, you gotta wait till you get in one of her holes at least.” 

You nod as much as you are able to with Stu’s hand in your hair and his dick down your throat, you wanted that, you desperately wanted Ethan to cum in one of your holes, Hell you wanted all of them to cum either in you or on you, it was a deep and clawing craving that was refusing to leave. 

Mickey’s pace was getting sloppy, he was thrusting harder and harder, faster and being totally selfish in the way only he can be when he is close, fully worried with chasing his own release, you say a silent prayer, happy that your ass could take the punishment he was doling out. “Fuck, fuck, you won’t have to wait long, Ethan.”

Mickey thrusts inside you three more times and then holds deep as he unloads inside of you with an utterance of your name. The rush of heat makes you choke and moan on Stu’s shaft with a shudder. 

You stop stroking Ethan, worried that he is going to cum, your hand grips the base of his shaft tightly to ensure he wouldn’t spill over quite yet.

Mickey stays in you for a moment, barely grinding his hips, milking the aftershocks and every ounce of pleasure out of his orgasm. You feel his head tip, his forehead rests on your shoulder, you feel the press of his lips, a kiss, sweet, before he pulls out with a groan, and spreads you, he can see your wrecked looking hole, slowly leaking his cum. 

Mickey looks over your body still being rocked between Billy and Stu, and he says easily, “Get over here, Ethan.” 

You let go of him, and he practically scrambles to get behind you, almost falling over the tangle of the other boys limbs on the way. Stu and Billy laugh, Mickey shaking his head, “Bless him.”

“So cute.” Stu confirms. 

Billy holds still and motions for Stu to do the same, “Ease up while he gets in there.” 

The blonde complies and they all watch, Ethan’s hands rest on your ass, and he looks adorably nervous, he is practically shaking, breathing erratic, he looks painfully hard and is leaking so much pre-cum. It’s like he is almost rooted to the spot, staring down at your slowly leaking hole. You push on Stu’s hip, and he allows it, pulls out of your mouth, and you look over your shoulder at him, you clear your throat before saying, “C’mon Ethan, please?”

He curses quietly, and then you watch Mickey come up behind him, one hand on Ethan’s hip and the other reaches around him, grips the base of his cock and says, “Lemme help you out.” 

Ethan almost jumps out of his skin, tenses but gives a single nod once, consenting with more than the action, he begs, “Please, yes, I-I want to so bad but, I can’t-.” 

“I know man, it’s alright, I got you.” Mickey soothed, and he pushes forward on Ethan’s hip, his other hand guiding Ethan’s cock, the blunt head presses to your nearly raw and well lubed hole. When the tip breaches Ethan comes back to himself, fingers dig into ample flesh, and he pushes, you moan and encourage him, “Fuck yes, please-”

Mickey lets go, his grin is positively wolfish as he watches the show unfold. 

Ethan curses again, and he shoves in roughly, about halfway before pulling out, the poor guy only gets less than ten pumps in, not even fully inserted, before he is cumming with a strangled cry, body a quaking, sweat slicked mess. He is apologizing over and over, gasping for breath, “M’ sorry, fuck, sorry, sorry, felt too fuckin’ good, couldn’t stop it-”

“S’ okay.” You reassure as he pulls out, “You’ll last longer next time.” 

Billy is laughing and starting to thrust into you again, “Fuckin’ pathetic, man.”

Stu shoved Billy’s shoulder and said, “Oh lay off, you didn’t last much longer first time you got in that ass.” 

You giggled, “He’s right, you know.” Stu taps your cheek and says, “Open up.”

Mouth falling open in compliance, he re-inserts, you still had to get the last two off and were eager to do so. You can hear Ethan trying to defend himself to Mickey, “I could feel Billy in her pussy when I was in there, and it was too much!”

“The extra friction will get you, it’s true.” Mickey sympathizes, and you suppress a laugh, trying to focus on sucking the dick in your mouth and moving your hips in time with Billy’s thrusts. 

[loki-hargreeves]

Smile For the Camera

filming / whipping / abo

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x f!Reader Warnings/Tags: [18+ / MINORS DNI], filming during sex, piv, no plot (it's just nasty), established relationship, overstimulation, creampie, vulgar language Word Count: 1.3k Summary: Nathan wants to film a little something with you for his personal enjoyment A/N: I'm using this kinktober prompt list by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction . Also, it's my first time posting a Nathan fic so I hope it's okay 🎃

"Come on, smile for the camera, honey," Nathan asks, bringing his phone close to your face. It had been discussed previously, so it didn't come as a surprise to you, nor did you mind it. In fact, in your blissed-out state of mind, the idea of him filming you was almost amusing. Another way for you to make him happy by entertaining this fantasy.

"Nathan," You giggle softly and give in, revealing your pearly whites for the lense. There is a comforting heat on your cheeks and chest as you lie there, heart racing and trying to catch your breath after coming on Nathan's cock for the nth time that night. That man is an overachiever in everything he does, including sex which you've come to learn quickly. It's like he's always trying to beat a personal record of either how many times or how fast he can make you come.

"That's right," he caresses your cheek and resumes a slow yet steady pace of burying his dick deep inside. He's on top of you missionary-style so he can see and film your pretty face as he drives you fucking crazy. In this position, his pelvis brushes against your clit which adds to the overwhelming experience. This must be some form of heaven.

As soon as he moves, all thoughts fly out of your brain except for how he's making you feel. After so many orgasms, you're sensitive and you swear you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he moves. Nathan pulls out a little and dives right back in, wanting to hit that sweet spot within you that makes your toes curl.

"Mmmh.." You moan and grab his strong shoulders, needing the support. When you're close like this, the scent of his cologne fills your lungs. Nathan smells amazing, his cologne mixing with the scent of smoke and firewood from being around a firepit earlier. His skin feels warm and soft against yours.

Nathan loves this. He loves how he can bring you to the edge of pleasure and help you come out of that shell. He takes pride in being able to fuck you into a sweet, mindless haze. By now, he knows your mind and body. He has learned how to make you unravel hard and hell, does he enjoy it.

Nathan focuses the camera on your body, wanting to capture the way you squirm against the silk sheets as he barely even moves. Eventually, he reaches toward the nightstand and places the phone down so he can use both hands on you. Now the phone films you from the perfect angle that still shows your face.

"So fucking pretty," Nathan grunts and caresses your cheek. His own pleasure is growing and it's harder to hold back. Especially now as he knows he's gonna get to watch this back later. Maybe he'll show it to you too because he knows your reaction to seeing the video will be priceless. Maybe you'll be flustered but he knows you'll love it. Nathan knows what turns you on deep down even though you might act embarrassed sometimes.

"Oh!" A yelp escapes your kiss-swollen lips as Nathan fucks you harder. He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer to his body, using quite a bit of strength. It's rough and desperate, yet caring all at once. His other arm hooks behind your head so that your face buries into the crook of his neck. His muscular body is like a blanket over yours, caging you between him and the mattress as his hips roll into yours. Now, no matter how much you squirm, you remain underneath him.

"Oh fuck! Nathan!" You cry out in pleasure. His fingers dig into your thigh as he keeps going. The throbbing of his dick reveals that he's close.

"Come on, baby...take it, take my cock," Nathan growls into your ear, his voice deepened by urgency and desire. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo throughout the room and are surely picked up by his phone that's filming it all. That, and the noises your slick pussy makes each time he bucks his hips. Your juices have made a mess of the sheets, there's no doubt about it.

Suddenly, Nathan reaches between your bodies. He looks you in the eye whilst his fingers find your swollen and sensitive clit, making you jump from being overstimulated.

"You've got one more in you," Nathan murmurs and kisses the side of your face. "Cum for the camera, wanna see you... fuck, wanna see you fall apart," He moans as his own high nears him. For the asshole he sometimes can be, he's definitely a giver when it comes to you. Or maybe he just loves the stroke of the ego when he makes you come countless times before letting himself climax. It definitely boosts his own pleasure.

"Nathan! Don't stop... don't stop!" You swear you see stars by now. This orgasm takes you by surprise. Nathan barely has to play with your clit when it all comes crashing down. Your walls clench around his cock tightly and overwhelming pleasure washes over you like a tidal wave. It rips away the last strength you had in the best way possible, turning you into putty in Nathan's hands.

He follows soon after. How could he not? His cock is buried snugly into you, your walls milking him for all its worth. Nathan holds onto you tightly as his pleasure takes over. Hot white ropes fill you up and Nathan allows himself to collapse over you momentarily. He growls in delight as his dick twitches deep inside your welcoming pussy.

"Mm fill me up, baby," You mewl at him and roll your hips beneath him, wanting to prolong his pleasure. Nathan gasps and has to grab your hip to steady himself. He takes a sharp breath and tries to regain his senses. Once he does, he's all smug and cocky again.

"I know you love my cum, honey," Nathan chuckles and takes a few more deep breaths. Then he grabs the phone from the nightstand, wanting to capture this post-orgasmic bliss.

You blow a kiss at the camera playfully while listening to your racing heartbeat. Both of you glisten from sweat that you worked up together but it's oddly comfortable. His phone captures the messy sheets and your lust-blown pupils.

As Nathan brings the phone further down, you feel flustered but it also turns you on in a strange way. He carefully pulls out of you and films the money shot, using his other hand to keep your legs spread. Soon enough, his milky white cum comes out of you. Glistening down your most sensitive parts.

"What do you say, baby?" Nathan asks you with a cocky smile, switching between capturing your face and the creampie on video.

"Thank you," You decide to be a good girl for him. Perhaps, if you weren't fucked to bliss, you would've found the energy to be a brat. It always gets a rise out of him. Not now though, not when all you want is to focus on the pleasure that you're sharing.

"That's my girl," Nathan is proud of you. He films your face and then brings his fingers to your throbbing pussy. He collects the cum with his fingers and then pushes it back inside, ever so slightly.

Your legs instinctively squeeze together, struggling to accept all this satisfaction. Every touch is electric, sending shockwaves everywhere. "Ohh!" That is all you can say as he experiments with your sensitivity, spreading cum over your clit and opening. Getting all your pretty expressions on film.

"That feel good?" Nathan asks softly as he too recovers from his orgasm. In some odd way, this is his way of showing affection as you transition from fucking your brains out to aftercare. Nathan has his own unique ways of showing that he cares. He has a talent for being an asshole and a sweetheart at the same time, which is kind of endearing.

You just nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try not to squirm away from those devilish fingers. The fact that what he's doing is kind of nasty just makes it better. It feels like Nathan is marking you as his own, the possessive man that he is.

Once he's done, Nathan lies back down and kisses your forehead. He makes sure to get one more closeup of that pretty smile. Then he turns the camera to himself, "Guess the system overloaded."

"Jesus Christ-" You laugh and roll your eyes at his joke, pretending to be annoyed, "You're such a nerd."

Nathan scoffs playfully and stops filming. He puts his phone away and allows himself to stay close to you for now. It'll be fun to watch back later. For now, he just wants to hold you and be grateful that you trust him enough to film something so intimate.

"Yeah, but you love me for it."

A/N: I need to rewatch ex machina because Nathan is kinda 👉👈 I hope this wasn't too ooc. I really hope you liked it.

[longing-for-rain]

I think you're wrong saying that zutara is a ship exclusively by women for women while kataang is only liked by sexist men. There's a lot of support for zutara on site like 4chan of all places. If anything, men prefer to self insert as the "giga Chad" zuko than the "beta male" aang

Meanwhile the vast majority of kataang fanart I've seen where drawn by women, just like zutara.

I never said that it’s exclusively shipped by women, just that women tend to prefer it.

And you’re right, but you’re biased based on where you’re looking. Male dominated sites like 4chan are exactly that…male dominated. Any fandom stuff you find there is almost certain to be created by men. You’ll also find that the way men interact with fandom is either very canon centric or fetishistic. I’ve actually run into some of those “giga Chad Zuko” types and the funny thing about them is, some of them hadn’t even watched the show. It was based on appearances only, and yeah, knowing nothing about the characters, men will often choose to self insert as the manly hot one for their nasty rule34 fantasies. You’ll also just as commonly see kataang (I’ve seen some absolutely disgusting kataang shit), as well as Zuko shipped with every other female character (including his mother and sister) in those types of environments because it’s purely appearance based. It’s just a bunch of creepy men drawing their self insert with their crush.

On the flip side, (non-pornographic) fan art is almost always drawn by women, especially if you’re on a site like tumblr or twitter. That’s true for any ship.

What I have noticed, however, is that on forums like Reddit that are also very male centered, kataang is always most popular. And it’s very easy to see why—Aang as a character was literally designed for young boys to project onto. He represents a character the target demographic of the show in 2005 (young boys) are supposed to relate to. This also results in the (male) writers giving him “relatable” struggles such as not being liked back by a crush. Her feelings aren’t centered because they are not relatable nor important to this target demographic. Then, these men who saw the show as boys grow up and retain that relatability aspect, and feel somehow emasculated by the idea of “the girl” choosing a different man. This is why kataang has historically been criticized as a male centered ship, because the whole dynamic and narrative surrounding it is based around this male fantasy of bothering your crush and being such a NiceGuy that she *has* to like you back eventually. Like I said, it was literally written that way, to be relatable to middle school aged boys.

Female kataang shippers are a whole other can of worms, but let’s just say they’re basically the BoyMoms of fandom. My precious baby can do no wrong, he’s a literal angel, nothing is ever his fault, telling him no is bullying, girls who get upset with him are just lying b*tches trying to destroy his life, etc. etc.

[nesaluvstherecoms]

𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Identity crisis, insomnia, PTSD, alien (Na’vi) anatomy, male and female masturbation, cum eating, pheromone induced arousal, sexual fantasies

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋ

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐙𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲

“Remember kid, a Marine can’t be defeated. Oh, you can kill us. But we’ll just regroup in hell. Semper fi.” And with that, the grey haired Colonel leans forward and ends the recording.

Sharp, amber eyes stare intensively at the now transparent screen, carefully eyeing up the piece of technology between the Recombinant’s large hands. The Recom inhales deeply, lips pursed as the expression on his face remains vengeful. His jaw is tense, teeth clenched, his brain processing the new information that it just obtained. So this is why he’s here, hm? Back from the dead. His eyes then avert to his surroundings. He watches as more of his squadron’s members are pulled out of the amnio tanks, in new, refined bodies. Their flesh covered in the amniotic fluid, giving a thick, shiny sheen to the firm, durable muscles of their new anatomy.

Quaritch snorts. If he had seen this sight fourteen years ago, he would’ve been absolutely disgusted at the alien bodies being pulled out of the tanks. His blue eyes would’ve pierced through the freaky, revolting sight. He would’ve scoffed at the science pukes, calling them freaks, giving them nasty stares before storming off somewhere. The Recom’s train of thought stops there. No he wouldn’t. He wasn’t even alive fourteen years ago. Because the man who would have reacted that way is probably still rotting somewhere. And he’s not that man.

Or is he? 

The Recom is pulled out of his thoughts by his right hand man, who’s floating close to him, holding onto the metal bar that supports the screen between his Colonel’s hands. They have a brief moment of eye contact, before the other Recombinant speaks.

“What’re we thinking Colonel?”

Quaritch moves his lower jaw to the side, tongue moving up to press against the upper molars of the same side. He takes a deep breath, eyes lowering down briefly, in thought. His eyes then turn back up, observing his Corporal’s face. It will take him some time to get used to Lyle’s new face. The same face he woke up to some hours ago. His eyes skim over the nasal plug inserted into Wainfleet’s right nostril, to stop the nosebleed that Quaritch caused when he punched him square in the face. Quaritch brings his lower jaw back into place. His tongue runs over the new fangs that he can’t seem to get used to just yet, coating them in a new layer of saliva, causing his lips to purse in the process. He then looks at his Corporal again. Wainfleet stares back, patiently waiting for his Colonel to process the new information, his tail flicking slowly behind him as they both float in the zero gravity space. Quaritch swallows the saliva that has pooled in his mouth. He looks at Wainfleet with an intense and serious expression before his lips curl into a smirk, fangs coming out in full display, as he stares deeply into his right hand man’s amber eyes.

“Well Lyle…. Looks like we did regroup in hell after all….”

Y/N is deep in her head. Her thoughts are all over the place, not able to form a logical and uniform chain like they usually do. But she tries to dull them for a bit.

This is not the place to be having an existential crisis.

She focuses her vision on what’s happening on the other side of the glass panel she’s currently standing behind, separating her from the zero gravity space she was in earlier. Her eyelids close over her eyes for a moment, just enough to ground her thoughts briefly. So that’s why she’s here huh? To colonize. What a joke.

“You okay, Colonel?”

Y/N opens her eyes again. Her line of vision falls upon the man standing next to her, who seems to have focused his sight on his perplexed Colonel, staring at her expectantly. Her eyes narrow at the man, tongue moving uncomfortably in her mouth at the sight of him. He doesn’t look the same at all. His beard is gone, his irises are golden, his nose is that of a feline, his skin is blue and striped and he has this new alien body that just looking at it makes her sick to her stom-

“Colonel?”

Y/N clenches her jaw, turning her head away from the man, not wanting to look at him.

“I’m fine John.”

The man swallows. Why is she acting like this? She’s never been so cold towards him for no reason. His eyes remain on her for a few more minutes, but she refuses to even glance at him again, like she can’t even bear the thought of looking at him. He decides to turn his head back towards the glass panel, telling himself that she’s just in her head and she’ll come to her normal self eventually. She always does. But something inside him still worries, his tail being a testament of this as the end of it flicks in intervals behind him. His eyes glance down briefly to his blue hands, as he stretches his new fingers, the skin flexing above the flesh. He swallows. He doesn’t like it. Not one bit. His eyes return to what’s happening behind the glass panel, trying to collect himself.

This is not the place to be having an existential crisis.

The Colonel and her Captain watch as the last duo of the 10 man squadron gets pulled out of their amnio tanks. As the amniotic fluid disperses in the space, the newborn Na’vi bodies get pulled out, sliding from the tank into the air of the new world they’re about to open their eyes to. The scientists maneuver the large, Recombinant bodies in the zero gravity space, preparing to get them ready for the wake up process. Y/N’s eyes follow them, running over the alien yet somehow familiar features of her First Sergeant and Operations Officer, both of their eyes closed, faces resting peacefully. Oh how unaware they are of what’s about to happen, what they’re about to wake up to, to wake up in. They don’t know they’ll open their eyes, far away from Earth, in new alien bodies, sluggish and confused, frightened even. They just remain resting, still deep in hibernation sleep, as they are moved away from Y/N’s and John’s sight.

John turns his head towards his Colonel again. But no words come out of his mouth. He’s waiting. Waiting for her to say something. Y/N feels his eyes on her. She takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with the much needed air as she closes her eyes again, still keeping her jaw clenched. After a few seconds she opens them again, long eyelashes as a result of her mixed DNA parting way for her dark pupils to focus again. She swallows. John inhales as she finally looks at him again, but this time there is no displeasure on her beautiful features, just the usual calm and determined demeanor that he’s used to.

“Captain, I expect you to report to me on how the wake up process has gone for the rest of the team after they all have been awaken.”

Is all she says. John nods.

“Yes Colonel.” He replies, deep voice sounding the same as she remembers. Y/N nods once, giving him one last look, before backing up a few steps and turning around. Her combat boots thud on the tiles as she starts walking away, tail moving slightly behind her. John watches his Colonel as she walks away. After a few seconds he’s about to start leaving himself, but his ears catch the sound of her footsteps stopping. He turns around, watching in curiosity. Y/N doesn’t turn to face him, her tail has stopped moving, now standing still with the end of it slightly raised up. Her ears fold back as she turns her head to look at him over her shoulder, her hair and kuru moving along with it.

“Take care of yourself John.”

And with that she slowly turns the corner and disappears from his eyesight. John swallows, still staring at the end of the hallway from which she just left. Slowly, he exhales the breath that he hadn’t noticed he was holding.

“I will, Colonel.”



It has been five days since Y/N woke up in her new body. Her right hand man, Captain John Keller, has been telling her that some of her squadron members are awake, but not all of them. Apparently the scientists are awakening two Recombinants at a time every five days. Even then she is not able to see them, as they have to come to terms with what has been done to them first. Keller has informed her that she’ll be able to meet the entire team again once they all have somehow processed their new profound existence. Y/N huffs ironically. Well that will take some time won’t it? As she lays on her bed, in her new temporary quarters, her eyes remain on the ceiling. Her ears twitch as she periodically taps her right middle finger on the sheets stamped with the RDA logo below her. Her other hand lays flat on her stomach, feeling the muscle below her fingertips even though she’s internally revolting at the firmness of it. She keeps her eyes on the ceiling.

“Remember sweetheart…. You’re nothing but a pawn and you’ll remain a pawn until you play. Take what they give you, give away what you have to, and the difference is yours. Because the difference is what makes you the middle player between the cattle and power. Because that…. is the key to winning the game.”

Her tail starts thudding against the mattress in synchronization with the finger tapping on the sheets.

She knows what her predecessor meant. But… do these rules apply to another planet?

Her tail thuds more firmly against the mattress.

Tap…

Tap…

Tap…

It’s been five days… five days and she still hasn’t looked in the mirror. Even with that being the case, she still has caught glimpses of herself on the reflection of different glass panels on the ISV Vindicator, and she can’t say she liked it. Her head turns slowly towards the direction of the shower.

Maybe she should.

Slowly she sits up, the sheets ruffling under her. She moves her legs to the side and lowers her bare feet on the cold tiles of the room. Behind her, her tail rests flat on the mattress. After a few seconds she stands up, walking towards the direction of the bathroom. She steps foot in, and looks around for a bit. The mirrors are still covered. There’s two of them, one small and square one above the sink and one full-length body mirror in front of the shower. Her ears fold back as her eyes fall on the covered, full-length mirror. She stands there, in the middle of the bathroom, for a considerable amount of time before she decides to do it. Hesitantly, her feet walk towards the big mirror, her tail raised slightly up behind her. Getting closer, her hand reaches out to grasp the sheet thrown over it. The RDA staff had done this to every room issued to the Recombinants, because apparently there were others like her who weren’t ready to look at themselves yet. Other Recombinants…. She wonders what other squadron the RDA decided to clone…

Y/N pushes that thought aside. She has a bigger issue to face. She’s now standing in front of the mirror with her hand grasping the sheet covering it. Her eyelids close for a moment, allowing her to ground the feelings that are bubbling inside, as her ears remain folded back and pressed against her head. Why is she so afraid?

“Come on Y/N. You’re a Colonel. The military didn’t raise no pussy.” She tells herself. Her mind goes back to when she first opened a book to study about Pandora, the day after General Ardmore had requested her presence in the Recom Program. She remembers her fascination as she carefully read every page, letter by letter. She was sitting in her office at the time, the dim light of her desk lamp falling over the book she had chosen to look for information into; “The Na’vi”. She remembers as she had turned that one specific page and her e/c eyes had fallen upon the two diagrams of one male and one female Na’vi. How she stared at the picture in fascination, carefully eyeing the dark blue stripes, the tails, the noses, the ears. Is that what she looked like now? After a few seconds she opens her eyes again, and this time there’s not as much hesitation in them.

Y/N pulls the sheet off of the mirror.

As the sheet falls on the floor, a young, beautiful Na’vi woman stares back at her, breathing rapidly. Her cropped ears are folded back, her tail is raised cautiously behind her and she stares back at Y/N in fear. Y/N swallows firmly, getting some relief in her dry throat. The young Na’vi does the same. Hesitantly, Y/N places her right hand on the mirror, moving closer to it so she can examine her own face. Her golden eyes carefully trace the dark blue stripes on her face, running over each and every one, before they move to her pink, feline nose. Carefully she removes her hand from the mirror and pokes at the tip of her nose with her fingertip. It twitches at the invasive touch, and for the first time in her new life, Y/N chuckles. That immediately diverts her attention to her mouth. She parts her lips and opens her mouth, exposing the sharp canines coated in a layer of saliva that she seems to constantly have to swallow to keep her mouth from overflowing at the moment. Her tongue carefully runs over the top row of her teeth, doing a full examination before it stops at the sharp end of her right canine. She carefully pushes the tip of her tongue against it, not enough to pierce through the muscle but enough to be able to feel the sharpness of her new tooth. Her tongue then moves to her right lateral incisor. It’s also pointy and sharp, threatening to pierce the tip of the muscle as she presses it against the incisor, but it’s just a bit shorter then the canine. She clamps her teeth shut, watching the full set in the mirror. The canines and lateral incisors stand out on both rows, long, pointy and sharp, glistening under the bathroom light. She closes her mouth again, now not staring at a specific feature of hers, but just looking at her face as a whole. Her face is still familiar… just… different… and blue. But it’s still… her.

Or is it?

Slowly, Y/N’s hands move down to the end of her tactical shirt. Her fingers grasp the hem and slowly start pulling up, and over her head. She tosses the shirt somewhere in the bathroom before she turns her head back to the mirror, now staring at her exposed upper body. Her hands move up towards her collar bone, touching the skin lightly. She watches herself in the mirror as her hands slowly move down to her plump breasts and gently cup them, the fat of her tits slightly bulging out of the space between her fingers. She feels the comforting softness of them for a while, before her fingers gently start to trace her nipples. A shaky sigh leaves her mouth as they harden under her touch, getting perky between her fingertips. Her eyes watch her movements in the mirror, taking in the pretty pink color of her nipples. Her breasts haven’t changed much. That gives her some comfort, seeing that at least no drastic changes have been made to her general anatomy. With that she moves her hands down, gently pressing her fingertips against her firm stomach. She watches her thin waistline, running her fingers over her sides briefly, before reaching the belt line of her tactical pants.

Y/N swallows again. But this time she doesn’t hesitate as much. Her elegant fingers make short work of the button and the zipper, getting them both undone. Her thumbs hook under the belt line at her hips where the undone pants still hang on, and she pulls them down, kicking them away. Now standing completely naked in front of the full-length mirror, she takes in the sight. There’s no body hair, due to the Na’vi genes, so she runs her fingertips over the smooth skin gently. Her right hand moves back, grasping the thick base of her tail. Keeping her fingers wrapped around it, she moves her hand down her tail, letting it slide in her palm until the fluffy tip is curled between the knuckle of her pointer finger and her thumb. She lets it go and turns around. Her head looks over her shoulder in the mirror and she experimentally moves her tail left to right. Cropped ears raise up in fascination as she continues to move her tail and watch it in the mirror. But as she does so, her eyes fall on the long braid draped over the muscles of her back. Slowly, her hand lets go of her tail.

Y/N turns back around to face the mirror. Carefully and gently she grabs the base of the long braid and pulls it in front of her. Her mind goes back to the memory of her reading that book. She remembers reading something about this braid.

“A neural queue (Na’vi name: kuru) is an appendage that is part of many species' anatomy on Pandora, including the Na’vi. Queues are encased in a "neural whip", a protective layer of skin that houses a set of thin, pinkish tendrils that appear somewhat like hair but are actually extensions of the creature's nervous system. Although the Na'vi possess a neural whip like most other creatures, it is most often hidden under a layer of hair that is painstakingly braided around the queue to protect it.”

An extension to her nervous system. Y/N’s brows raise in uncertainty. Her fingers move down to the end of the long braid and raise it up in front of her face. She watches as the hair falls down and a set of freakish, pink tendrils appear, slithering in place. Y/N’s face twists with displeasure.

“What the actual fuck.” She mumbles. That’s creepy. She lets go of her queue, not pleased at the alien appendage connected to the base of her skull. She’ll experiment with it later, not wanting to mess with it too much, seeing that apparently it is an extension of her own nervous system. As she thinks this, her eyes fall back on the reflection in the mirror. She swallows. Only one more thing to examine… Slowly she starts bending her knees to sit on the sheet that was covering the mirror earlier, planting her rear end on the floor. Bringing her knees to her chest, she scoots back with her heels to make some space between her and the mirror. After she gets comfortable enough, her amber eyes fall on the reflection again. She sighs… fuck it.

Slowly, Y/N parts her knees, spreading her legs wide. Immediately her eyes fall on her pink pussy, searching for any weird alien features. A wave of relief washes over her as she realizes that that is not the case. Her head falls back, hair caressing the skin of her back and eyes closing for a moment.

“Oh thank fucking God.” She mumbles, grateful that she wouldn’t have to deal with some type of alien genitalia. Her tail flicks side to side, ruffling against the sheet below her. Y/N brings her head forward again, staring back at the pink flesh between her legs. The outer lips match with the blue color of the rest of the skin, but the inside seems to match the color of her nipples and neural tendrils. The shape hasn’t changed, it’s still the same as she remembers.

Y/N swallows. She wonders if…

Slowly, she brings one hand forward, carefully sliding it between her spread legs. Her fingertips experimentally spread her lower lips, pulling the hood of her clit up. The tiny pink nub starts hardening under the touch, sending a pleasurable wave coursing up her spine. She closes her legs shut. No. She’s not doing this.

Standing up from the bathroom floor, she decides to ignore what just happened, the end of her tail curling around her calf in embarrassment. She grabs the sheet and folds it carefully, putting it on a nearby shelf, before she uncovers the mirror above the sink and does the same thing with the smaller sheet. Grabbing her discarded clothes, she puts them in the laundry basket, before taking out a bathrobe and a towel from the bathroom cabinet. She needs a shower. After hanging the towels on a hook nearby, her fingers move to the end of her neural queue to undo the braid. Making short work of the strands of hair, little by little the entire queue comes out, resting over her right shoulder. Y/N watches the long neural whip now uncovered, as the tendrils move. A chill runs down her spine. She doesn’t like this thing at all. It looks so freaky.

She slides open the shower screen and steps inside. Her hand reaches for the handle, twisting it on the warm temperature side. Warm water pours from the shower head, falling in front of her, wetting her feet. She steps under the stream, letting it drench her entirely. As the water falls freely on her naked form, she reaches for the small bottle of shampoo. She pours some on her open palm before stepping out of the stream and bringing the open palm on top of her head. Her fingers work gently on her scalp, massaging in the shampoo. The sweet smell fills her nostrils and it twitches at the sudden overwhelming scent. She sneezes. The hell? She has never been so sensitive to smells. Grabbing the shampoo bottle she reads over the ingredients, trying to see if there’s something adding extra scent. But there isn’t any added perfumes. Just the standard RDA approved shampoo. She huffs, sneezing one more time. Maybe it’s her. Her nose must be more sensitive. Y/N huffs out of her nose to get rid of the sneezing feeling and continues to wash her hair carefully. Pouring some more shampoo on her palm, she brings her hands down and starts washing her body. After lathering her whole body up, her fingers gently cup her breasts and rub over them, massaging the soap into the skin. Y/N swallows as her nipples harden again, poking against her open palms. Stopping her movements, she looks towards the direction of the mirror. Her eyes trace over her naked, wet and lathered up form in the reflection, strands of hair sticking on her blue skin. She bites her lip in contemplation. Slowly, her right hand moves from her right breast and carefully slides over her pubic bone. Elegant fingers slide over the smooth skin, before getting between her legs. Warmth spreads over her cheeks at her own actions. Her middle finger gently slides between her folds. A shaky breath leaves her mouth as she feels her clit harden again, bringing back that pleasurable wave down her spine she felt earlier. Flicking her wrist slowly, she brings the bottom of the second knuckle on the tiny pink nub, and gives an experimental rub. Her hips buckle forward at the feeling, and she presses against her clit harder.

Y/N leans against the shower wall, pressing her shoulders against the cold tile. Widening her stance, she rubs tight circles on her clit. As arousal starts seeping from her hole, she lets out a shaky moan, her left hand that’s still on her left breast squeezes the soft flesh. Her tail curls around her left leg, tightening around the limb. Y/N moans again, as the waves of pleasure start running through her neurons. It’s been so long. So so long. She needs this. As she rubs harder, her hips buckle forward again, causing her shoulders to press harder against the shower wall to grant her stability. Her cunt is now drenched, covered in sticky arousal and Y/N pulls on her nipple with her other hand. Letting out another moan, she stops her movements. Her middle finger slowly slides further down her pussy until the fingertip reaches the source of the thick arousal. She gently prods at it, pressing against the silky flesh. Her head falls back, the back of it leaning against the shower wall and her eyes return to the reflection in the mirror. She has to be careful. This body is virgin after all. Slowly, she inserts the tip of her finger up to the first knuckle into her pussy. A burning sensation courses within the opening, as her walls start parting to make room for the digit. Y/N continues pushing it until it’s fully in, resting within the velvety walls of her cunt.

“Fuck.” She whispers shakily, squeezing around her own digit. Allowing her virgin walls to adjust to it, she rests there, shoulders leaning against the wall as the hot water from the shower continues to pour. The glass screens have started fogging, the steam getting thicker and thicker as seconds pass, blurring the reflection of the mirror in front of her eyesight. Y/N remembers what a pain it was for her to get used to the feeling of her hole stretching when she lost her virginity. How long it took to prep her and surpass the burning feeling in her cunt. Now she will have to go through it again. But as her walls adjust to the digit, her eyelids close over her golden eyes and she lets out another shaky sigh. Gently she starts pulling her finger out, before thrusting it in the wet and silky cavern of her pussy again. She brings her other hand down, rubbing on her clit to ease the process. Another shaky moan leaves her mouth as she continues pleasuring herself, rubbing tight circles on the tiny hardened nub and thrusting her finger in faster. Her tail tightens around her leg, while her cropped ears fold back and press against her head. Y/N angles her finger, searching for that one specific spot. The moment her legs tremble she knows she’s found it, and she jabs her fingertip against her sweet spot. Her eyebrows furrow, mouth hanging open, as she feels the first wave of that sweet tightness in the pit of her stomach. Stopping her movements, Y/N turns around. Pressing her right cheek against the shower wall, her rear end sticks out, tail now raising up and the end draping over her right shoulder. Her queue dangles on her left side, tendrils still moving. She parts her feet wider, bringing her hands between her legs again. Her middle finger slides back in effortlessly and her other hand comes to rub on her clit again. But Y/N doesn’t move her finger just yet. Her right ring finger now prods at her opening, squeezing against the base of her middle finger. Slowly, she presses it in, sliding it in her walls along with the digit that’s already there. The sheer amount of arousal allows it to slide effortlessly but a burning sting courses through her inner walls as her pussy tries to adjust at the new intrusion. She hisses slightly, hole stretching to accommodate the two digits.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” She mumbles, squeezing around the two fingers. Her other hand rubs on her clit, trying to ease the adjustment. Her pointer finger and pinky are now pressed flat against either ass cheek as more arousal seeps out of her pussy, dripping down the back of her hand. Slowly, the stinging pain goes away. With that, Y/N pulls out her fingers halfway before thrusting them inside her cunt again. Squelching sounds and moans fill the bathroom along with the sound of the pouring water as she finds that same spot again and jabs against it mercilessly. The coil in the pit of her stomach continues to tighten, while waves of sweet pleasure encase her body. Her mouth hangs open, the tile fogs with her shaky breaths and moans as she keeps her cheek pressed against it. Her cheeks are now fully hot, brows furrowed and eyes closed in pleasure. Her mind starts to drift, searching for filthy memories to help her get closer to that sweet sweet orgasm. Pornographic moans echo against the walls as she finds just the right memory, and slams into her own cunt harder, while her other hand rubs her clit furiously. A numb feeling starts overtaking her toes, her stomach tightens, her urethra throbs pleasurably and that’s when she knows she’s about to cum.

Quickly she turns back around, slamming her shoulders against the shower wall and sticking her hips forward. With her eyes rolling back in her skull and a final scream, the coil snaps and intense pleasure takes over her entire body. Her nervous system pulses, blood rushing through her veins as she pleasures herself even harder to ride her orgasm. Clear liquid gushes onto the shower screen in front of her, splattering aggressively against the glass as she rides her fingers, tight velvety walls convulsing around the digits. What Y/N doesn’t notice, is the tendrils of her queue pulsing with her release, pleasure coursing through them as well.

“Oh, oh fuck!” She moans one last time as her hips stop buckling. Clamping her legs shut around her right hand, she presses the palm of her other hand flat on the shower wall behind her. Y/N lets her entire back lay against the tiles, breathing heavily as her orgasm fades away.

The only sound in the bathroom is the water still pouring from the shower head, as Y/N opens her eyes again. This time she cannot see her reflection as the glass screen is fully foggy, except for the large area of splatter patterns and squirt droplets sliding down its surface. Swallowing the saliva that has pooled in her mouth, she gently pulls her fingers out of her cunt. She brings her hand in front of her face, watching as her middle and ring finger part from each other and the thick arousal stretches between them. Her mouth parts, tongue sticking out, as she slides those fingers onto her taste buds. She wraps her lips around them, cheeks hollowing as she sucks the release from the two digits. A satisfied hum comes from the bottom of her throat as the flavor of her own cum courses through her taste buds. She pulls those fingers out, moving them back down between her folds to scoop more of her cum out from her cunt. When she has gathered a satisfying amount, she brings them back to her mouth, pouring the gathered glob of cum on top of her tongue and sucking the digits clean.

The lather has dissolved by now, leaving her body weirdly sticky. After a few more seconds of gathering herself, Y/N steps under the stream of the water again. A sigh escapes her throat, as the warmth eases her muscles, tail flicking in approval behind her. She closes her eyes, letting herself enjoy the feeling. After a while, she turns the water off. She slides the glass screen open and grabs her bathrobe and towel. She wraps her hair with the towel, carefully leaving the neural queue out, and wears the bathrobe. Her feet carry her towards the door, while her hand reaches for the light-switch and presses it, turning off the bright light of the bathroom. Y/N walks towards the bed, and doesn’t hesitate to lay down, exhaustion slowly creeping up to her. Why she’s exhausted? She doesn’t know. She could argue that her first orgasm in this new body had something to do with it but she doesn’t think much of it. A small yawn escapes her lips, sharp canines and incisors coming out in the process. Her tail ruffles against the sheets. She turns her head towards her analog watch that she had left on top of the nightstand.

03:44

She should get some sleep. Removing the bathrobe, she tosses it somewhere in the room. Deciding to keep the towel wrapped around her hair, she slides her naked form under the covers. She reaches for a bottle of water on top of the nightstand and takes a few gulps before closing the lid and putting the bottle back on the nightstand. Another yawn escapes her mouth. After getting comfortable under the covers, Y/N lays on her back, staring at the ceiling. In some weeks, she and her squadron will board on Pandora. Her mind goes back to the books she read on it. Except for “The Na’vi”, one of the books that stood out the most to her had been “Pandoran Botany” by Dr. Grace Agustine. Well, who wouldn’t be fascinated by the botany of another planet. She remembers the expression on her face as she had been flipping through the pages. Well in a few weeks she gets to see it for herself… if it doesn’t kill her that is. As a third yawn leaves her lips, Y/N decides to call it a day. She shifts into her usual sleeping position and closes her eyes. Thoughts still roam in her head but she tries to dull them, wanting to quiet her mind so she can rest. But one specific thought doesn’t seem to fade away. She wonders who the other squadron of Recombinants are…

Miles lays in bed, staring at the ceiling. It has been a rough five days. His squadron members are not all awake, some of them are having trouble with the new bodies, he’s keeping an existential crisis at bay, but most importantly, it’s been five days of flashbacks. The scientists have told him that it will take some time for all his memories to flood in, that’s why he’s getting them in snippets throughout the day. He huffs. Fucking science pukes. Always talking and never taking action. He can’t sleep at night and they haven’t done shit about it. Only the usual lectures of “trust the process sir”. Trust the process his ass, he can’t even get some damn shuteye. An annoyed growl leaves his throat. He wants to sleep. He really does. But every time his mind falls asleep, he’s haunted my memories. Some of them are the memories of war. He sees the faces of his former comrades, screaming in agony, calling out to him. They beg for him to save them, reaching out to him, before they are brutally slaughtered right in front of his eyes, their blood splattering on his uniform.

Miles swallows. As a seasoned soldier, he’s used to the brutal nature of war. He has seen violence at its most horrifying form and he thought he got over those memories a long time ago, however that does not seem to be the case. They’re coming back, haunting his dreams. The worst part is, they’re not the ones that are keeping him awake at night. No, he can sleep throughout those. What he can’t sleep through is the memory of his first day on Pandora… As soon as his mind falls into slumber, the first thing he sees is a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness, the black slitted pupils staring into his soul. Miles steps back, cocking his long gun, his own eyes wide. The creature steps from the darkness, and suddenly Miles finds himself in the middle of the fluorescent jungle, in front of this one meter beast that has bared its long and horrifying black teeth at him. It howls aggressively, charging at him with all of its six limbs. Miles has no time to react…

Pain. Pain courses through his body, pulsing through his veins. He screams in agony, tearing his vocal chords. His hand rushes to the blinding pain on the side of his head. He feels it into his skull, piercing on the right side of his brain. His eyesight goes dark, isolating him from the rest of the world. Miles is now relying on his other senses as he desperately tries to survive the agony he’s going through. The right side of his uniform feels wet. It sticks to his body, awfully warm and drenched against his skin. The hand on the side of his head is drenched too, as another hot flash of pain stabs in the right side of his skull yet again. Miles screams, coughing out liquid from his torn vocal chords. His mouth fills with a salty and metallic flavor. His uniform is getting more and more drenched, and he feels a pool of hot liquid on the ground below him. The pain doesn’t stop. Neither do Miles’ screams. His ears are ringing, he can barely hear his own voice. His vision is still black, he cannot see. He hears faint sounds of explosions and screams somewhere in the distance. He feels dizzy. His body drops on his side on the ground, drenching the rest of his uniform into the pool of liquid that was below him. As its scent fills his nostrils, Miles realizes. It’s his own blood. And everything stops. Miles falls unconscious.

The Recombinant shudders. It’s been haunting him for five nights. Five nights of him jumping awake, covered in cold sweat as he struggles to breathe. His fingers instinctively reach for the right side of his head. But there’s nothing there. No scars to touch. He swallows. Bringing his wrist forward, he takes a look at his analogue watch.

03:15

His jaw moves to the side. He needs to find a way to get some damn shuteye and he needs to find it now. He turns his head back to look at the ceiling and brings his jaw in place. He thought about exercising until exhaustion a few days ago. He tried it. Did it work? No. He still had that damn nightmare. A frustrated growl emits from the bottom of his throat. Should he ask the science pukes for some melatonin pills? No, they’ll just give him the same lecture. His amber eyes fall on his crotch. He grits his teeth in contemplation. Fuck it, it wouldn’t hurt to try. His large hands reach for the zipper. Long fingers make short work of it and his tactical pants come undone shortly after. He pulls them down, tossing them somewhere in the room, and turns his attention to his crotch. His eyes fall on the slit starting between his testicles and ending a few inches higher. Miles frowns. He hates this fucking shit. Imagine his horror when he removed that stupid hospital gown and found no dick between his legs. He would’ve shot himself right there and then if it wasn’t for the science pukes explaining the anatomy to him. Still, he hates the idea of his dick being held internally. It’s disgusting. It’s weird. It’s alien.

He’s alien.

He clenches his jaw. That thought bothers him. He decides to ignore it.

This is not the time to be having an existential crisis.

Miles turns his attention back to the situation in front of him. Contracting the muscles of his abdomen, he pushes his cock out of the sheath folds. His right hand moves towards it, long fingers wrapping around the thick length. His cock is soft in his palm, after all he had no reason to get aroused. He just wants to bust a nut and be able to sleep peacefully. Hopefully whatever fucking hormone gets released when he shoots will help him sleep. With that in mind, his eyes return to the ceiling. He lets go of his dick and brings his palm to his mouth to spit on it. After he does so, he grabs his soft cock again. His hand spreads the spit all over his length, giving a few experimental pumps. He takes a deep breath, trying to get in the mood. With his cock in his fist he starts pumping slowly, paying extra attention to squeezing the tip. A satisfied hum leaves the bottom of his throat, and his eyes close, turning his vision blank. His mind starts skimming through snippets of memories, trying to find something to help grow an erection. But nothing seems to get him in the right mood. Miles frowns. Why is it so hard to blow a goddamn load? His other hand travels down between his legs, cupping his testicles. He fondles them, trying to get aroused, while his right hand continues pumping the length. After a few more minutes, Miles’ cock is still soft in his hand. He releases a frustrated growl. Letting go of his cock and balls, he puts his hands on his firm stomach. Well… he tried. He was no stranger to touching himself, after all it had been necessary sometimes to relieve stress, but he was never the type for a quick jack off, always preferred to take his time and get in the right mood. As he decides to call it a day and attempt sleep again, his nose twitches.

His cropped ears raise up in interest, as a sweet and lightly tangy scent gets in his nostrils. Miles sits up, tail flicking behind him, ruffling against the sheets. The scent is light but it’s still there, piquing his interest. He inhales, trying to find the source. Getting out of bed, he walks to where his sensitive feline nose is picking up this addicting smell. The air vent. Miles furrows his brows. He gets closer to it, his height allowing him to press the flat bridge of his nose right against the metal bars of the air vent, and he inhales deeply. His eyes roll back in his skull as the delicious scent fills his nostrils. His cock twitches, head poking out of the foreskin. Just what he needed. He spits harshly on his open palm again and grabs his cock, squeezing it tightly. Growling, he starts pumping, keeping the bridge of his nose pressed against the cold metal bars. He inhales again, filling his nose with the addicting scent. A part of him frowns at his own actions, not understanding why some random scent is arousing to him. While another part calls out to the newfound Na’vi instincts in him, telling him that this is someone’s scent. A female Na’vi’s scent. His mouth waters, hand fisting his now aching cock harder. He closes his eyes shut, inhaling the scent again. In the filthy pits of his mind he starts fantasizing a gorgeous Na’vi woman, pink hole stretched around his girth, moaning pathetically below him as he pistons his hips to drill into her tight pussy. She squeezes around his girth, velvety walls providing him with mind numbing pleasure and a deep moan leaves his throat. The sweet sap that leaks from her hole has drenched his cock, dripping down his testicles. And it smells just like this sweet, addicting scent. Miles’ other hand moves down, cupping his testicles again. He fondles them, feeling the first wave of that tightness deep in them as his other hand focuses on the tip of his dick, thumb moving to rub the slit that’s leaking precum. He growls, inhaling again, pressing his nose harder against the bars of the air vent. Whoever this woman is, the smell of her cunt is driving him insane. He fists his length harder, bringing his hips forward as his ears fold back and tail raises up in an arch behind him. The woman in his fantasy screams, releasing high pitched moans as she squeezes impossibly tight around him and cums, hot walls convulsing and clamping down on his cock. Miles feels his balls tighten, and those waves of tingling pleasure reach his abdomen before his urethra throbs in pleasure and the veiny cock starts pulsating in his fist.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Miles growls and with a final tight and harsh pump, he cums, shooting blanks on the wall where the air vent is, ropes of cum dripping down the surface. A shaky breath leaves his throat, as the last seconds of his orgasm fade away. He opens his eyes. Staring at the mess on the wall and on his hand, he huffs in annoyance. Great. Now he has to clean up. His head turns towards the air vent again. The scent is fading away. It’s still there, but it’s light. He clenches his jaw. Forcing himself to move away from the vent, he grabs a bunch of tissues and messily wipes his cum from the wall. He’s about to clean his hand when an idea pops in his head. Hesitantly, he brings his hand up to his face. His eyes inspect the cum dripping down the back of his hand. It glows lightly in a soft blue hue, not much but still noticeable enough in the darkness of his room. His tongue darts out. Experimentally, he licks some of it from his hand, his own flavor coursing in his taste buds. Miles hums in satisfaction, his tongue darts out fully and he licks his hand clean with one swipe of the large muscle. The salty yet tasty flavor fills his mouth, and he swallows the thick and warm liquid down. Slowly, he wipes the spit he left on his hand along with the amount he lubricated on his dick, and throws the tissues in the trashcan. He gets under the covers again, getting comfortable. That light tiredness after an orgasm catches up to him, and he sighs in satisfaction. It worked. Maybe he won’t see that nightmare tonight.

He takes a look at his analogue watch again.

03:44

He takes off the watch, putting it on the nightstand. A yawn leaves his lips, canines coming out as he does so. His eyes roam over the ceiling again. Who did that scent belong to? Another female Recombinant must have been aroused too, that’s the only explanation he can give. But the only women on his squadron are Walker and Z Dog. His face twists in displeasure. The thought of having pumped his cock to the scent of Walker’s or Z Dog’s arousal leaves an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. Disgusting. It couldn’t have been them. Well, Walker is not awake yet. She’s still being held in hibernation sleep somewhere in the labs. Z Dog on the other hand… well Z Dog is Z Dog. No explanation needed.

However, he did overhear some of the science pukes talking about another team of Recombinants, made in a different lab. He clenches his jaw. Another squadron? But the only people who were part of the Recom Program were his own field operators. What did the RDA do?

Well whatever the RDA did, he just jerked off to her. Miles frowns. Fucking Na’vi genes, making him act out like a damn dog in heat. He pushes that thought aside. He has more important issues to deal with. Turning on his side, he closes his eyes, trying to get himself to sleep. His tail stops moving, now resting flat on the mattress. Taking a deep breath, he quiets his mind.

In a few weeks they board on Pandora. He will get to see that death trap of a moon again. But this time… this time he comes prepared. He’s not the naïve man he was back then. Not anymore. This time he will bring hell to that fucking world, he will slaughter, terrorize and destroy mercilessly. He doesn’t care who or what is there anymore, if it stands in his way, he will make sure it disappears off the face of the Universe in the most agonizing and brutal way a being can muster. Because this time, he will accomplish his mission.

This time he will eliminate Jake Sully.

Title Explanation:

Zero dark thirty – Military time, very early hours before dawn.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

[howtofightwrite]

So in a lot of RPG-inspired fantasy, you’ll see this idea that squads of adventurers will have their members specialize into combat roles with one person being good at defending against hits hit and one person who attacks a lot and one person who hangs back at range etc. Is this totally made up for RPGs? Or is there a historical basis for small-unit tactics with specialization before the modern era?

No.

Specialized combat roles existed, in full battlefield combat. Groups like line infantry, skirmishers, archers, and artillery all existed. The thing is, those were entire units of troops, not individual roles, and combat doesn't really scale down to individual characters.

The tank/DPS/healer trinity is entirely an RPG construct. This actually makes some sense when you consider that the first RPGs grew out of tabletop wargaming. So, seeing battalion level combat reduced to individual characters isn't quite as weird as it first appears. Since then, games have adapted to better fit those roles.

So, the end result is that, the combat roles you see in modern RPGs came out of an abstraction of an abstraction of battalion level combat, and then it started evolving into even more specialized roles. Beyond that, concepts like taunts and crowd control only really make sense within the power fantasies of those games.

In a modern context, mixed combat units with a few specialists mixed in do make sense, though, again, it's not the tank/DPS/healer structure of games, because that is still completely artificial.

So, if it's so utterly divorced from reality, why does this model survive? Because it does accurately replicate how fantasy stories frequently fit together. You get a reasonably distinct mix of character archetypes who can work together, with each contributing something unique to the effort as a whole. And, while you're not going to find an example of the Tank/DPS/Healer squad out there in the wandering in the world, you don't have to look too hard to find stories with a warrior who's able to bare almost any punishment, a sage who advises and assists, and a hero who has a nasty habit of striking the killing blow, and, really, doing the bulk of the punishment.

Accidentally or intentionally, the trinity nails how stories are often told.

Distinct roles in a tabletop RPG also, arguably, provide more range for a group of players to have roles that appeal to them, without requiring them all to conform to a single character type. Not everyone is going to want to be a hulking brute with anger management issues, just like not everyone is going to want to play a character who's instantly deleted half a second after an enemy spots them. The trinity gives both of those players a way to participate in the same adventure without making either of them useless.

The roles have become even more entrenched in MMOs because it provides a shorthand for players to organize themselves for group content. At that point, roles like Tank/Healer/DPS become very useful shorthand for knowing what a random stranger will bring to the group, and a way to quickly assess what you still need before the group is ready to go.

So, does this have any historical basis? Yes, sort of, but in a literary context, not from martial combat.

-Starke

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[covencupid]

dilf!ghost, or "oops you're parents now!"

I'm succumbing to the pressure of no one and writing the dilf!simon riley fic because I never want children and this is my only way of test driving a dilf fantasy. Posting this mainly so that if y'all like it enough you can bully me into actually finishing it. I'm sorry I need to work under pressure to perform well. Anyway, here's the main pieces of the story.

———

A drunken promise made long ago to a friend now lost.

Two children displaced into the unsure hands of Simon "Ghost" Riley.

Simon had vowed to never become a father, to never even open the door of possibility to become the thing that had raised him. Simon was notified to prepare his house for the kids' arrival before he was told that his old partner had passed in a tragic accident with his wife. No next of kin, only the man that had drunkenly agreed to be the children's godfather years before.

Simon tries on his own at first for the time being as he figured the best way to tackle the care of these children while factoring the demands of his work.

You, my dear, darling reader, are a "freelancer" that the 141 employs occasionally for espionage, information, and more "covert" assassinations. You like to think of yourself as an actor. You walk in the shoes of many people every day and you live carefree, transiently. There are no plans to change your lifestyle. You want your life to course like an endless river, never slowing. For a particularly sensitive mission, you play the part of a new nanny for the three wild children of your target . You are relaying information back directly to Ghost. The tools of your espionage are the loose mouths of babes that you pretend not to understand. When the 141's capture attempt goes south, you unexpectedly show some seemingly genuine maternal instinct over the children you've been pretending to care for. A feat that Simon notices instantly.

After drinks, post-mission, Simon seeks you out to ask you for the ultimate favor.

"You- what?" Ain't no way this giant skeleton just asked you to help him raise his newly acquired children.

"Look, I don't know how to treat kids. They ask me for things I don't understand. You do. You get them, and they like you. I've seen how you are with them."

"I don't know how to raise kids? I'm playing pretend, Ghost. I'm not a mom and I wouldn't be a good one anyway."

"Look, I know. I wouldn't be asking you if I had better, if any, alternatives." He looks lost in a way you can't say you've ever seen him. It was a situation that didn't call for his brutal skillset. He was adrift. Fuck. "What you can pretend is better than anything I can try to do for them right now. It's not forever. I know I can't keep them and I wont. I'll support them, pay for anything they will ever need, put them in good schools, get them every bit of help they need. Right now they've lost everything they've known. They have nothing, and I'm not exactly an easy transition. That is why I'm asking you."

Fuck.

Deep breath. "How long do you need me?"

------------

So, yeah that's the gist of it. If I do write it, it would expand a bit before and after what's detailed above and it would eventually, naturally get dirt nasty. But also add some jealousy, trauma, hurt/comfort, "cheating" but not really, and daddy issues for everyone!

Tell me what you think!

[erosmutt]

!! READ !!

This is a serious post.

So, I'm sure we're aware it took me tagging Tumblr Support on here for them to review the appeal I issued last month. I was falsely flagged, and my blog was marked as explicit for a picture I uploaded to accompany my 'Straight To Video' Sam Monroe fic.

Now, it's all over with, and I'm glad, but I want to bring attention to the problem I brought up in my appeal - the disgusting thing that is allowed on Tumblr.

I'll begin this post with talking about Twitter (will refer to it as 'X' for convenience). About 2 years ago, there was a major issue on X which I'll refer to as 'The MAP Movement (TMM).'

TMM was a time where MAPs ("minor attracted persons," which are just pedophiles) were trying to weasel their way into the LGBT community, wanting to say that being a 'MAP' was a sexuality, a lifestyle. While TMM was going on, there was a flood of minors on X that called themselves 'AAMs' - "adult attracted minors." MAPs and AAMs went hand in hand, because they were feeding into each other's deplorable fantasies. Obviously, there is a difference between being a minor and having a crush on someone who happens to be an adult, and a minor who is self-aware and ENABLES pedophiles.

This is where Tumblr comes in.

When Twitter was rebranded to X and bought by Elon Musk, TMM, MAPs, and AAMs were wiped off the platform. A couple years ago, I would be spending most of my day reporting and blocking these disgusting people. Since they were run off X, they have since come to Tumblr.

Just as they did on X, they use "creative" tags such as the following, which is a list of terms for you to block.

— l0l1t4, l0l1t, l0l1, m4p, m4ppr1d3, m4pr1d3, pr0m4p, prom4p, 44m, aam, pr044m, pro44m, p3d0b41t, p3do, p3d0, p3d0p1l, p3d0ph1l3, pr0p3d0, j41lb41t — and any other combos of the letters and numbers that apply to MAPs, pedophiles, and AAMs.

I'm bringing attention to this because, obviously, it's disgusting and harmful. Under these tags, there is child pornography, young of age girls playing into the 'jailbait' stereotype (young, stupid, and impressionable), and nasty old men AND women preying on young girls and boys.

Tumblr has a general issue when it comes to NSFW content. Their guidelines (last updated Feb 1, 2024) state as follows:

"Harm to Minors. Don't post or solicit content that features the abuse of a minor, that includes suggestive or sexual content involving a minor or anyone that appears to be a minor, or that facilitates or promotes child sexual abuse. "Content" may include photos of real individuals, illustrations, animation, or text. Posting or reblogging child sexual abuse material is a serious crime for which we have no tolerance. We report all such instances to child protection organizations and law enforcement around the world, including the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children."

Despite this guideline, people get around this (and the ones regarding self-harm, gore, and mutilation, as well as promotion of eating disorders as EDs fall under self-harm) quite easily. Shift some numbers and letters around, and bam, you have an evasion.

I want Tumblr to hold these accounts responsible for the horrible shit they encourage, promote, and glorify.

[whoovesnassistant]

Announcement about a Serious Situation

Hello, everyone. We have some unfortunate news but first want to assure you that production is still going and will not be put on halt for DWnA, DWA, and Aristotle's Apocalypse. We are still very excited to bring them to life, but we have one less person on the crew to help and we feel it is important to explain why. Recently we've discovered that someone in our community and within the team wasn't exactly as honest or respectful as we had initially trusted them to be. This individual is no longer with the project or any adjacent projects and will never be permitted to return. He is also not welcome in the fan server any more.

We will try to use age appropriate language here but know that this issue is of an adult nature. The user oreod.ude (discord handle) was an editor on the team who we found out was soliciting artists on the crew not only without permission, but the content he was asking these artists for was wildly inappropriate. While the content being requested might have seemed innocent at a glance, this is clearly an obsession of a more dubious nature, and he specifically seemed to target people who were not comfortable with this kind of content or weren't aware of the more sinister adult nature of the content.

We do not want any artists on our team to feel pressured or uncomfortable, which is why it was a general rule that artists were not to be individually contacted for content. He was told this multiple times and yet still contacted nearly all of our artists for the same inappropriate thing. And now we just want to make sure he can't do that any more in any of our servers and hopefully other projects who might hear about him.

We have a couple of videos he worked on that credit him and we can't really change that, but after that he will not be mentioned if he had any sort of involvement in the finished product.

Other handles this user has gone by that we know of: Vacuum3000, Blue15Bomber, watatimbotle2, lukeffvader We are letting people know this person's identity so they can have a chance to block him or know to avoid him and keep him off of projects. PLEASE DO NOT HARASS OR ENGAGE WITH HIM. This is NOT meant to send a mob after him, it is merely to warn people about interacting with him.

We want to also take this time to caution artists about people who will try to get art from people for inappropriate reasons even if the content seems innocent. Be wary of oddly specific requests like puffed up cheeks or feet tickling, as there are nasty people out there who like to trick unsuspecting artists to indulge their fantasies which is a violation of consent. Don't let anyone pressure you into drawing anything that makes you uncomfortable. Just remember that on the Internet, not everyone has good intentions - be responsible and make good choices, and you can always message a moderator in our discord server if you see any bad, unwelcome, or predatory behavior in the community.

Something important we have learned: It's so important to speak up. This incident was occurring over a few months because people were either scared to come forward or assumed they were an isolated incident. The only reason we now know so many artists were effected was because one of them decided to come to the moderators about the issue, and their coming forward prompted many others to feel safe enough to speak up as well. A lot of bonding has been happening now that people know they weren't the only one and that we take these reports seriously.

We want to thank everyone for supporting us and we want to have a safe environment for all of you. We will not let this incident pull us down. In fact, perhaps our team has become stronger for it.

[lightofraye]

jared's relationship (or lack thereof) with the cast frankly weirds me out. is he ever supportive of their new projects? if he couldn't attend this event, he could have at the very least helped promote it if he believes in the cause. he has time to check twitter and get upset over what some teenagers are tweeting about him but not about his own nasty longstanding stans. neither does he have time to engage positively in good causes

i thought he so badly wanted to get on The Boys but he can't make the time to fly out and meet the show's faves and chill with them. does he really believe he's above it all?

i'm starting to believe fans truly do reflect their favorites and he's coming off petty and entitled. unfortunately, his attitude towards the cast translates into his fans calling everyone else "extras" and treating jensen as an accessory

look at jensen and misha surrounded by all the lovely people they've been friends with for years, and then look at jared in the corner all by himself

i'm not saying he owes anyone anything but for someone so chronically online to be ignoring the awesome things happening and focusing on his personal online bullies leaves a bad taste in my mouth

and using him not being in California as an excuse for not being there last night.

Rob and Ruth were in Scotland and they attended via Zoom. Not sure where Mark S or Curtis were, but they also attended via Zoom and weren't at the house with the others. Laz Alonso and Valorie Curry also attended via Zoom. There were other ways to be there.

He wasn't there either because he didn't want to be or he wasn't wanted. Pick your poison.

also stop being so hypocritical, you complain about Danneel cutting of Jensen when Jared does it as well and alot more. You complain when anyone makes a jokes a to Jensen about jensen but is comletely ok when Jared does the same.

You are such a fucking asshole that noone likes

I was wondering when the anti Jared folks would come out.

Given how Rob and Rich are banking on Destiel for their podcast, small wonder Jared does anything with them. Jensen is a far patient man than I would be. And Jared seemed to get along well with Ruth during duos recently.

And Jared didn’t beg Kripke at all. Kripke begged him! And he doesn’t engage with many folks on social media anymore. He’s grown as a person, has owned up to his issues.

Not everyone has to stay friends after their work has ended.

You can keep trying to paint him a bad person, but who’s the one getting pissy on social media about politics and his role? (Misha.) Who is trying to take fans’ data and sell it? (Misha.) Who tries to post thirst traps for money? (Misha.) Who tried to leverage Destiel for politics? (Misha.) Who exaggerates and lies about stories that netted death threats against Jared? (Misha.)

Y’all know you can’t win this argument. So again: why are you trying? Go write your Destiel fantasies on your blogs and leave me and other Jared fans be.

[cordeliacordate]

Had to shut off my ask box entirely because people can't seem to stop harassing me. It sucks to be in a position where people think it's normal and fine to be creating rape fantasies about me, re-uploading my privated stories wholesale to AO3, leaving nasty comments in others' comment sections and using my name to do it and more—but it's what is happening.

If I didn't reply to you, please know I genuinely appreciate all of the support you've sent my way. I'm probably deactivating this account at some point, but at the very least deleting the app off of my phone for awhile. I don't use Tumblr enough for it to be worth being harassed on yet another platform.

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 49 – Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh

Introduction

I forget who initially recommended me this book, but I owe them an incredible debt. Really the only disappointing thing is that I hadn’t heard of it even sooner, as this really is just perfectly tailored to appeal to me specifically. First science fiction/fantasy novel I can remember reading in a long time that I actively wished was longer. As a testament to how much I liked this book – this review is long enough to need subheadings.

So! Some Desperate Glory is a space opera, following Kyr (Valkyr, technically), a 17-year-old cadet and genetically enhanced ‘warbreed’ golden girl of Gaea Station – that being the quasi-fascist statelet of militant dead-enders who fled to a desolate planetoid in a dead system to continue the war after aliens destroyed the earth/most of humanity. After she gets assigned to Nursery (read: breeding the next generation of soldiers) instead of a combat wing and has a crisis of faith, she talks herself into running away to help her brother on the suicide mission terrorist attack he was deployed on. With the help of one of her brother’s friends and a captured alien, she manages it, discovers that her brother had absolutely no intention of actually following orders once he’d made it out, and take it upon herself to do her own, better, terrorism. From there the plot gets weird, and I’m going to spoil it shamelessly talking about it, but if you value surprises when reading at all just stop this review and go read it.

The Heroine

Kyr is, and I say this lovingly, the most insufferable bitch of a 17-year-old military brat I’ve ever spent time in the head of (at least at first). Even compared to the other indoctrinated child soldiers she’s the cop nobody likes. She then spends the first third to half of the book unlearning this indoctrination, by which I mean very arduously and painfully reaching a point of ‘the fascist cult was a corruption and black mark on the good name of the death cult vengeful crusade, I’ll do it better’ and ‘it’s probably okay to not, like, personally hate aliens who were too young to have been alive when the earth was destroyed. Torturing them for no reason is wrong, like abusing animals was, back when there were animals’. She spends the entire book expecting on a bone-deep level to get herself killed for the cause, and at the end of the book is only like 10% of the way better (one of the last beats in the entire story is, standing with one of her only friends and sure they’re both about to run out of life support, offering to snap their neck for them because ‘asphyxiation’s a nasty way to go’). Whenever she is confronted with the idea that some people aren’t constantly aware of the possibility of physical violence or get to live their lives as something other than a bullet in the gun seeking vengeance for a dead planet she wants to scream and smash things at the unfairness of it all. I adore her.

Honestly my only real complaint is how quickly she starts mellowing out in the second and third acts of the story. There’s extenuating circumstances (whole extra life of memories, time loop bullshit, forcibly confronted with what she said she wanted and what it looks like, etc), but past the one real big hump it did rather feel like her character development suddenly became a bit smooth and easy/. This is one of the things I’m talking about when I say I wish the book was longer – everything after the first big climax and the time travel/universe editing felt kind of rushed and abbreviated.

As far as being a #problematic fave goes, Kyr was also very carefully kept from being, like, directly personally culpable for anything really unforgivable. Which I do understand why from a wanting people to sympathize with the racist homophobic fascist child soldier, but like – you’ve already introduced time travel and retroactivity. C’mon, don’t get cold feet now. Let her and Avi really share the ‘killed trillions in a universe that retroactively never happened’ credit.

Also, and entirely tangentially – you know how in a lot of action shows, the hero has incredibly emotionally tense rivalries and/or camaraderie with other guys, and then also an extremely conventionally feminine girlfriend off to the side somewhere who does like two things in the entire story and mostly seems to exist to prove he’s straight? Kyr has that, except she is textually gay (if incredibly repressed about it and like 90% of the way to asexual in terms of libido). Sorry Lis, but you are literally barely a character. Cleo’s right there, and already has a personality that’s more than two bullet points and is actually involved in the plot in ways beyond ‘love interest’.

Gaea Station

The shitty fascist asteroid habitat that Kyr grew up on is (if barely) the primary setting of the story, and as far as portrayals of incredibly unbalanced and fundamentally broken society just full of cultlike and ultranationalist neuross. I kind of love it as a dystopian setting, though I feel like the author kind of over-egged the pudding on it by the end of the book.

Society is organized into what feels like an intentional parody of a lot of YA dystopia setups, where you live in a tightly integrated mess all through adolescence (each with their own heraldic animal to idenity with!) but then at 17 your exams determine the branch of society you will be assigned to for the rest of your life to do your duty for humanity. Of course, unlike most YA dystopias, the System isn’t the result of some leviathan-state ruling the fates of millions or a tradition that’s going back generations upon generations – it’s a ramshackle mess that can barely consistently feed its warrior elites enough protein slop to take advantage of their genetically engineered hormone levels for muscle growth. It’s all so clearly and intentionally artificial and fake that it loops around to feeling extremely realistic.

Also do love how the elder generation all have names like Joel or Ursa or Elena, while the younger generation are all Valkyr and Magnus and Avicenna and Zenobia. The only really surprising thing is that they don’t specifically call out how children are raised in common and without individual families as following Plato’s Republic – it’s exactly the sort of attempt to create a grand unifying mythology for all of Earth’s true and vengeful children.

I really do wish Tesh had trusted the reader a bit more about it, though. Like, we can tell that almost all the names of the younger generation are either historical figures form the Mediterranean/Greco-Roman world or Norse mythology (with a few exceptions like Avicenna who fit the general aesthetic if not those exact conditions), which puts a bit of a lie to the whole ‘pan-human’ bit. It’s a clever bit of characterization through worldbuilding! You don’t need to call it out twice in dialogue between characters and then again in an in-universe scholarly essay excerpt at the start of a chapter. I can’t complain too badly though, she’s really not even close to being the worst for that I’ve read recently.

One thing I did like especially because I don’t think it was ever called out and brought front and centre is just the sort of, like, perfect irony of both Kyr and her brother Magnus – ‘warbreed’ engineered supersoldiers with physical capabilities beyond any baseline human, blonde aryan ubermensch, the golden children and eugenic future of Gaea Station/true humanity – both being queer and totally unsuited to their assigned gender roles. If it was, like, specifically brought up in a big monologue as disproof of the Gaean ideology or something it’d feel much too on the nose, but as just a set of facts underlying the characterization of the protagonists I liked it quite a lot.

Trio Dynamics

They don’t actually have all that much pagecount spent together, now that I think about it, but as far as I’m concerned the absolute heart of the story is the dynamic between Kyr, Avi (Avicenna, genius-level hacker and cynical rat bastard discontented Gaea Station restaurant) and Yiso (young and rebellious Prince of the Wisdom, taken captive by Gaea when they’re personal ship came too close and then liberated/kidnapped by the other two in their escape attempt). It’s peak trauma-bonding in that the first time it involves a) Avi torturing Yiso to force the alien supercomputer to let him access it and b) Kyr shooting Avi in the head after he uses access to the supercomputer to wipe out 90% of galactic civilization as payback for the whole ‘destroyed Earth with an antimatter missile’ thing (she got a case of morals when confronted with what ‘winning’ would mean. Also her brother shooting himself.)

By all rights they should absolutely hate each other and after two temporal recursions and oceans of retroactively unspilled blood on all their hands they’re the only people who even slightly understand each other. At one point Kyr tells Yiso ‘just so you know, I don’t really care about you as a person,’ and then immideately thinks ‘that was a lie. Why did I say that?’ Avi and Kyr both deprogram themselves from the cult that raised them but only the ‘loyalty to the cult’ bits and not the ‘alien race war vengance death cult’ bits. Yiso meets Kyr in an atemporal training simulation and gets retroactive Stockholm syndrone even though the first time they actually meet she breaks their ribs for repressed teenager reasons. They all drive me absolutely insane and I absolutely adore them. Even if Avi’s redemption felt waaaaay too rushed and unjustified in the final recursion, willing to forgive it here.

Time Loops

The big twist of the story is that, having fucked up and enabled Avi taking vengeance for Earth by doing the same thing to every other alien species, Kyr jumps into the alien supercomputer time manipulation buisness wholesale and goes back to prevent the destruction of Earth. Which then fast forwards to her being a newly minted officer in the Terran Expeditionary Fleet that is the imperial power dominating the known galaxy in increasingly high-collateral damage ways as time goes on. Yiso, in this timeline the beating heart and soul of the main alien resistance group, seeks her out and restores her memories and they go back to try and hijack the alien supercomputer before the government office whose hijacked its crippled remnants (as helmed by the alternate-timeline version of Gaea Station’s great leader, now a fleet admiral of the ‘Providence’ division) manage to literally destroy the universe.

It is mostly down to all the fanfic I’ve read, but I really, really adore timeline divergences that ropagate out and leave all the major characters different but similar people in alien yet appropriate situations. I also adore time travel stories about someone turning the timeline into swiss cheese trying to brute force their way to the one and only golden ending. So I adore this whole conceit. Really my only complaint is that there were only two (one and a half, really) recursions. Not that I’m demanding a full groundhog day here. But, like, it’d have been nice. And Kyr/Avi/Yiso continuously bumping into each other in different configurations and usually ending up at gunpoint would have been ann absolutely amazing bit.

Space Orcs

I can’t be sure Tesh actually had any exposure to the whole online meme of ‘humans as space orcs’, but I do and it’s really impossible to read the book as anything but an examination of the idea. Compared to every alien species ever encountered, humans are tall, heavy, muscular, impulsive, and violent. In a one-on-one confrontation they’ll snap any other species’ neck. The very first pages of the book are an excerpt from an in-universe text writing for an aliens about how actually really humans are very intelligent, and then talking about how threat displays and ‘human culture’. In the original timeline they even fit into the usual social niche of orcs in a lot of fantasy these days – the scattered and diminished remnants of a brutal empire that was defeated and mostly-exterminated in their attempts to conquer the universe.

The book’s handling of this doesn’t really have a point, as far as I can tell – the worldbuilding’s sufficiently divorced from anything real that trying to call it a commentary on racism or genocide or conquering empires is a stretch. (It is after all a fundamental point of the book that the obliteration of earth and extermination of the vast majority of humanity really was the only way the Wisdom could prevent the Terran Federation from conquering the known galaxy. Which is I’m extremely sure not something the author intends to be a historical analogy.) I found it a fun bit of worldbuilding and interesting subversion of normal space opera tropes regarding humanity’s relative abilities, anyway.

Theodicy

Is an incredibly pretentious way to title this section, but also in a sense kind of the core of the book’s plot? In an interesting way, and I think it’s really the book’s greatest weakness that it doesn’t explore or grapple with it enough.

Which is to say – the Wisdom is at the heart of galactic civilization. It’s an alien AI with vague but vast (though limited) reality-warping and precognitive powers. It does not rule the civilizations that accept it, but guides them as a benevolent god towards best, happiest outcomes with whatever support they ask for or need. To determine what ‘best’ means, it creates its Princes, vat-grown heirs to the dead species that created it, with a lifespan of millenia spent going through simulations and interacting with the world to provide the data and decision-making it requires to make that sort of strategic decision.

The Terran Federation’s attempt to reverse-engineer or hijack the Wisdom put it in a situation where the only solution its princes could find was to destroy the better part of humanity and even more of their industry and culture. Through the plot of the first acts of the book, Kyr and her genius-level-hacker friend hijack a node of it and Kyr convinces/forces it to accept her decision-making instead of its prince (who they just killed). This results in an explicitly colonialist human empire ruling over aliens as oppressed subjects, and using the half-wrecked and poorly understood Wisdom to eliminate threats before they occur (shunting the reality backlash off to alien worlds they don’t care about). The next acts of the book mostly resolve around fixing or reverting this, and end with Kyr diving back into a node and having another conversation with it.

A conversation which is basically it giving up. It reverts things back to the human-genocide timeline, then shuts down its infrastructure and goes dark, leaving the entire mostly pacifistic and loosely governed galactic civilization it had protected suddenly on its own. Humanity were such assholes we found a loving god and then convinced it to kill itself.

Which, like, could 100% totally work. As far as high concept short story prompts go its incredible. But as far as actually driving the action goes the Wisdom is the one who makes the most important deciisons in the entire book, and determine the entire shape of the plot. For it to land, it really really needed more than two and a half short conversations on screen, at least to me.

TL:DR

Good book, lesbian doing space atrocities, should have been longer.

[whimsyfemme]

hi all!! you can call me fleur or whimsy 🫶🏾!

꩜ .ᐟ nineteen yrs of age + black + nonbinary femme lesbian. any prns (pronoun indifferent/any compliments) + bpd & autism diagnosed + aries sun, pisces moon, libra rising + infp 2w1.

꩜ .ᐟ single womp womp + femme4butch/stud + ambiamorous. battle axe lesbian + stud & butch protector + manbeater + alternative + irl fairy.

this blog is my safe space to post about whatever whenever so a reminder!

BYF: this blog is 18+ i make and reblog nsfw posts from time to time, please don't follow if that makes you uncomfortable! i will sometimes mention that i smoke weed and do shrooms. this is a safe place for sapphics of all kinds, please don't come on here stirring up bullshit because i won't tolerate it. 

DNI: cishet men (i've already blocked a bunch of yall and i'll continue to do it), minors, ageless blogs, terfs (die), discriminatory towards ppl with personality disorders, complicit/support or have a "neutral stance" on the genocides that are currently occurring, edsh blogs, maps, ableists, transphobes, etc etc.

TAGS: talking/thoughts tag: yap yappy yap yap yap. posts with my pictures/face: me posting. 🍃 or 🍄 posts: faded than a ho. inbox tag: mail 4 whimsy.

my ask box and messages are always open! mooties can ask for my socials, discord, number, etc!

no anon emojis are currently taken at the moment!

if you want to get to know me a bit better here are some of my favorite things 🫶🏾

꩜ .ᐟ hobbies; writing + reading, sewing + embroidery, baking, dungeons & dragons, & perfumery.

꩜ .ᐟ artists; aespa, bikini kill, ethel cain, tyler the creator, red velvet, radiohead, mortician, dystopia, snow strippers, noname, newjeans, sophie, adrianne lenker, faye webster, loona, hole, sza, amaarae, fleshwater, & rico nasty.

꩜ .ᐟ games; the last of us, red dead redemption, baldurs gate, pokemon, harvest moon, persona 5, guilty gear, legend of zelda, final fantasy, cyberpunk, animal crossing, dragons dogma, elden ring, & assassin's creed valhalla & odyssey.

what i am into/kinks

i am versatile with a bottom dominate lean, can and will be submissive. learning/exploring topping. butches and studs obvi! im just starting to get more comfortable with more taboo kinks (that i'm into) after being exposed to that shit at a young age.

🫶🏾: mommy/daddy kink (as titles), breath play, face sitting, bondage, oral fixation, impact play, manhandling, praise, primal play, mutual marking, somnophilia, guided masturbation, breeding, public play, strapons, drug use/intox, & dry humping.

🙅🏾: race play (of ANY kind, cannot believe i have to elaborate on that), extreme cnc, bodily waste, feet, armpits, anal play, age play, weapon play, anything thats extremely taboo or extreme.

₊˚ᓚᘏᗢ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁₊✧ ﾟ

[chaifootsteps]

Armchair psychology anon here! (I do not claim to be a professional psych by any means, I just happen to notice patterns in people and can't help but overanaylze)

I've noticed how much more parasocial Viv has become with her fans, and her blatantly not saying anything to stop fans from going overboard. (See how Goose and Tracy have been VERY active lately in saying to not be a dick to others. Viv is oddly quiet about her own fans behaving this way, and fans themselves have stepped in to try and calm the fandom down.)

The more parasocial the relationship is, the worse it gets. She's actively liking fan art that has a decent of amount of likes, but she's also liking fans who defend the show or are outright nasty to critics. The amount of likes on those specific tweets are low, but she's liking them to those fan's's surprise. That makes those fans and other fans double down on their behavior because they have a fantasy that Viv is now their friend or that she's even remotely interested in them as people and not words on a screen defending her. So more fans see Viv supporting shitty behavior, and they think they also have a chance at "being her friend" by acting like that.

She's obviously and intentionally creating her own attack dogs and doing nothing to stop their behavior. Her lovebombing of celebs and Broadway actors, and even people of a high status like Brandon, are all not just predatory in behavior, but she's also doing it to create another big shield for herself. She's not concerned with small people (or who she sees as small, like Ashley and Michael (even though they're getting bigger now)) and is going after big name people so they can comfort her when her insecurities hit their lowest point. (See Keith David's IG comment). I think Brandon's HB video was a genuine attempt at making her feel better when she wasn't feeling great. Even those old tweets with Salem and Ashley trying right make her feel better is a perfect example of what I'm trying to get across.

She pulls this very manipulative behavior to inflate her own ego, but also to have these people come to her defense. And when she decides she doesn't want them anymore, she goes after people of a higher status. She's trying to get up to Seth MacFarlane and Matt and Trey's level, I'm sure.

I have a feeling Brandon and others will quietly slip away at some point. If that wolf and sheep comic is anything to go by, she treats people so sweetly, making them think she's so great, then turns on them, leaving the victim confused and upset. I have a feeling Brandon and her have fought, as the thin line of his mouth and uncomfortableness at that con says a lot.

Body language says a lot. That video of him saying it was a "brilliant session" did not make it seem like he cared too much and that he may be keeping her satiated.

Sorry for the long winded post.

Never be sorry, Armchair Psychology Anon. Your posts are always fascinating.

Sobering, worrying, but fascinating. I wish I didn't agree with you.