#because yes it has some of it but really it's only as far as it's an omegaverse book

[yuri-is-online]

I'm taking a break from making Yutu asks and giving you a jade ask:

Most mer people expect humans to be either helpless or just a little ok when it comes to dealing with bodies of water.

Basing Yuu off of my experiences today, Yuu would not be most people. I come from a province that is full of rivers and waterfalls. When you first step in the water you'd let out squeaks and screams because the water is VERY cold. Cold enough that people stick full watermelons in and when they later crack them, they've turned into sorbet.

Today I went to a water resort that's based in a canyon. I was wearing high heeled sandals and started wading against the stream (yeah I know, pretty dangerous) I fell into the water twice but i still consider it a win since the first time I was dragged in when I was pushing a bench swing and the second time was when i tried sitting on an unstable swing (both were within 2 hours and both times my head stayed above water) my pants still tore from the water pressure

When jade first finds a waterfall on a hike with Yuu, he feels content with setting up a cute picnic. Yuu on the other hand asks jade to hold onto the food, as they eat to swim first. Jade is confused. What swim? WHERE?! Yuu then, fully clothed, walks into the water. Jade wants to scream. Sure they're at the bottom of the waterfall but that's still a lot of water pressure, some merfolk have drowned trying to swim against the stream. Yet Yuu just stands there, in the water, completely unaffected (adjusting to the temperature). Then they JUMP into the fucking water and start swimming to the other side of the stream. Jade loses his mind and starts yelling for them, he even puts his head into the ice cold water and screams hoping they'd hear him. When Yuu surfaces on the other side they look at him in confusion

"what's wrong, jade?"

"WHAT'S WRONG??? PREFECT WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DONT YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THIS IS?"

"what??? I'll just swim back and forth a few times! It's been a while since I've done this"

"AND WHAT IF THE CURRENT CARRIES YOU SOMEWHERE ELSE? WHAT WILL YOU DO?"

"....I'll stop??? With my legs??? I'll just stand????"

Jade is stunned

Legs. Yes legs. Humans had legs. Merfolk don't. That's why they can resist the current.

That day jade returns looking a little gaunt, which is something that worried Azul for what discoveries his friend had made

-Grim OB Anon

You know Grim OB anon you bring up a really good point with this concept: the way humans interact with water is probably a relatively foreign concept to the Octatrio. We know from Book 3 that NRC has a swimming pool they use for classes, but swimming isn't the only way humans interact with water. The three of them have never seen a water park, and it sounds like a concept that they would brush off as being silly. Why wouldn't humans just swim if they want to have fun? There's all sorts of things you can do to have fun under water, just ask they'll show you.

Jade has a calm facade, and the only time he really is comfortable breaking it is when he's excited. We've only ever seen him upset a handful of times, it's a very intense emotion on him. If this was any other human he would find it funny, but it's you so he doesn't find it funny at all. He's terrified and you are-

Fine. You are confident and radiant surrounded by water and standing up against something that is genuinely dangerous. He still asks you to come to shore, hiding his fear under a faux pout. You scared him, prefect, after he went so far out of his way to do something nice for you. Really the least you can do is just stay with him and let him take comfort in your presence.

[weskie]

What You Deserve (Albert Wesker x afab!Reader)

18+ | 2700 words, salacious use of tentacles, post re5 wesker, one of those things that was meant to be sweet but became nasty, amab!reader version here | Fic Directory

You've taken such good care of him. Isn't it time he rewards you? Be careful though. Some things are still a little… new.

You were something else.  Frankly you always have been, but now more than ever.

Despite waves of self loathing and rampant depression of which he would never confess, Wesker’s recovery has been as smooth as you could make it.  Pain medication kept most of the lingering aches away and Uroboros had ensured he lived to see another day.  Other than a weakened body riddled with scar tissue from his little dunk in the fires of the Earth, he couldn’t complain terribly much.

Even after his fusion with Uroboros, Wesker was still a mere man unable to escape the more… basic urges.  He’s always considered arousal to be like an itch.  Sure he could scratch it, but he could also ignore it and let it go away.  He often chose the latter, but, with little else to occupy him besides literature or your company, such a choice became significantly more difficult.

You notice his state quickly, though you say nothing of the tented blanket that only seems to continue rising the more he tries to ignore it.  You simply take his hand and squeeze, occupied with your laptop while Wesker rereads the same line of his book over and over again in a poor attempt to settle down.  When he tips his head back against the mountain of pillows he’s propped against, you give him a knowing look.

“Want some help?”  You ask, thumb brushing against his knuckles.

Does he?  He did go waist deep in lava. Thus far, it had seemed Uroboros took care to heal his nerves in all other places, and he’s never noticed a lack of sensation in the times where he’s had to touch himself to bathe, but what if he can’t feel enough to… perform well for you?  Was it even the full act of sex that you were offering or simply assistance in relieving him?

Perhaps the uncertainty was written across his face because you turn to face him, hand rising to stroke his cheek and trail into his unstyled hair.  Your touch spurs another aching pulse between his legs.  “Only if you want to,” you say sweetly. 

He pretends to consider your offer, but his answer was yes the very moment you spoke.  The second your thumb brushes his lip, he’s tugging you onto his lap.  He swallows your protests with ease, groaning weakly into the kiss.  Wesker knows you’re afraid to put your weight down on him, still so worried about agitating his aches and pains.  He has half a mind to grip your hips and help you grind against him, but you’re taking charge before he can.

“Let me,” you murmur, lips trailing down his neck.  You halt at the collar of his sleep shirt, moving away only to help him pull it over his head.  Your hands land on his sides, smoothing up and down slowly, stroking reverently at the juxtaposition of softness and patches of scarring.  Each motion brings you closer and closer to his chest until you’re kneading his pectorals, thumbs brushing against rosy buds in such a way that leaves him panting.

It really has been a while… the throb of his cock confirms it.  He has half a mind to just tear at your clothes and rush you to take him, but you seem to sense his impatience just as easily as you’d noticed his need.  “M’gonna take care of you,” you whisper sweetly, palms coaxing him to rest fully against the pillows. “You deserve it.” You slip so easily down his body, blanket falling away to reveal black boxer briefs that have clearly garnered a little wet spot from such light teasing.  “Just relax.  Shut your eyes, sweetheart.”

He does as you say, releasing a shuddering breath in anticipation for what’s to come.  It turns to a gasp the second your tongue laves the dip of his hips.  Your hands steady him with gentle pressure, shirking their duty when you decide to skim your nails over ticklish flesh and wring a breathy giggle from him.

He can feel your smile as you kiss further down, sensation dulling when your peppered love finds its way to the band of his underwear, renewing once more when you peck sweetly at his inner thighs.  Wesker’s hips seek you of their own accord and he’s lucky enough to feel at least one press of your lips to his covered length before you make your way back up.  He practically bucks into your grasp when you take hold of him. 

“Seems like everything's in working order,” you coo playfully in his ear.  

Wesker finds his lower lip to gnaw on while you stroke him slowly.  His hands paw at your clothes, eagerly trying to expose you.  His eyes flutter open, pupils blown wide around distorted hues of red and blue still vying for dominance over one another.  He’s just about got your shirt off when that hand of yours dives beneath his waistband, milking the most humiliating whine from him imaginable.

What's wrong with him? Why is he so… desperate? 

His hands leave you to shimmy out of his underwear, hissing at the cool air and the mere sight of your hand around his weeping cock.  He turns back to you, keening into a kiss as he tries once more to tug at your clothes.  He hoists your leg over his hip, palm smoothing to take a greedy handful of your rear, playing with your flesh as you’d done with him.  Everything about you is bliss itself, from your slow, torturous strokes to his cock to the slide of your tongue against his.  You should be bare against him, skin to skin, letting him feel every inch of you. He needs it. He needs you. 

Suddenly, a humming laugh escapes you, reverberating against his tongue before you break away.  “Again, huh?”  You breathe.  

Again… yes. 

Once more, tendrils have wound their way around you to do his bidding, but this time for more… salacious reasons.  Each one wriggles under your clothes in some way or another.  You aid them in their quest to strip you, tugging your shirt and pants away with ease while the masses slither just as eagerly as his hands explore.

It’s so cute how you squirm for him.  It’s as if the tables have been turned oh so perfectly, leaving you just as red in the face as you’d made him.  He may not have his full strength yet, but this?  This more than makes up for it.  One tentacle coils at your waist, holding you perfectly in place as the others find themselves far more… occupied.  Your giggles turn to breathy moans, each one sung perfectly for him.  You’re like an instrument only he can play, your pleasure a melody only he can create.

“W-Wo– Ah!”  You gasp, head lolling to the side the very second one of those slimy appendages creeps between your legs.  Your first instinct is to clench your thighs together, though you don’t get very far with having been straddling him.  The tip of it swipes your clit, making you buck and whine.  “Al!”

Tantalizing was… not a strong enough word for the sight before him.  These appendages have always carried a degree of wetness, some leaky black ooze that only ever left a small mess, but now?  Oh, now they leave clear glistening trails along your flesh that make his cock utterly ache.  It’s as if he’s painting you with his own arousal, picture perfect and drenched in his love just like you should be.  The tentacles trail over where he wants to see you marked most: your chest, your neck… all the way down to your pretty little pussy.

“Al, I–” You try, but you’re whimpering as more slithering lengths join in to curl around your thighs.  He didn’t even have to lift a finger…  There’s so many things he could do with you.  He could lift you, surely, to his face.  Slide his tongue that’s been so starved for you between your sopping folds.  Or he could lower you onto his cock right now.  Forget effort; you wouldn’t have to do a thing.  He could simply maneuver you accordingly, bounce you up and down with their grip on your body until you were both fucked senseless.  Or…

Wesker’s chest rises and falls with each open mouthed breath, watching with wide eyes as three smaller tendrils approach your cunt.  You squirm, but you show no sign for him to stop even as they alternate swiping along your slit.

“I-I thought– mm!”  You try, words as shaky as your trembling body. “T-Thought I was gonna t-take care of you instead…”  

“You are…” he breathes, utterly hypnotized as more tentacles join the fray and suddenly, without warning, you’re spread completely for him, slithering lengths taking your legs while smaller ones part your drenched pussy lips.  You’ve been put on exhibit, and oh… how you writhe and keen under his sopping touches.  All Wesker can do is simply lie there, cock torturously hard at the sight of you like this.  He dares not touch himself; he dares not even imagine it lest one of those lengths creep to coil around it to satisfy the urge.

“A-Albert– ngh!”  Every cry you make fuels whatever hidden desires lurk below the surface of his mind.  Nothing in the world could’ve prepared him for the sight of an extra thick tentacle slinking along your leg, coiling up and up until it presses at your entrance.  “O-Oh my god!”  You mewl, head falling back.  “I don’t– I don’t think I can– that’s too big… Al, I don’t think I can– Ah!”

Exhilaration runs down his spine as though every nerve in his body fired at once.  Watching it press into you, seeing every ounce of slick drip from its effort to wriggle inside as you keen and mewl and cry out his name over and over again as if to pray to him…  Wesker licks his lips, panting heavily, fighting to keep control despite that knot in his gut threatening to give at any moment.  His fists bite into the sheets, threads popping as they give way to his strength.  

“O-Oh g-god,” you sob, barely audible over wet squelches.  “P-Please… Al, p-please!”

“I…” he tries, but he has no words.  Nothing in the world could possibly explain this– why it was happening, why he was allowing it, why… why he fucking loves it.  

But he does know why, deep down.  Past that layer of perfect prudence and discipline lies the truth.  You deserve this.  You deserve every ounce of pleasure he can stuff into you.  For all that you’ve done for him… you deserve everything. 

You cry out over and over again as the thickness fucks in and out of you, slick drizzling from your cunt down your ass and onto the bed.  It soaks his hips and cock, oozing off to coat the sheets and surely seep down into what was now a ruined mattress.  But he doesn’t care.  Not one bit.

The tentacles wriggle all over you, slithering and rubbing against tender flesh, restraining the intense trembling of your legs as you dangle helplessly.  He can practically hear it hitting the depths of your cunt, each noisy, wet thrust coupled with your sweet songs a promise of your never ending pleasure.  And oh… you deserve it.  You deserve all that he can possibly give you.  You were there for everything.  The good, the bad, the horrifying…  Every part of him is yours, which means you get this, too.  

The first time you cry out his name is perfection in and of itself.   You come undone so beautifully.  He has to grasp his cock and squeeze the base damn near to the point of harming himself just to keep from blowing his load right then and there.  Watching you practically seize in his slithery grasp, hearing you gag and gurgle on one that had slipped between your lips, knowing you’re so fucked out of your mind that you could do little else than suckle its length as if it were his cock… 

Even then, it’s like he can feel it.  The sensation is dull, but it is there.  Your lazy tongue, the clench of your throat, the warmth of your breath, the throbbing quiver of your cunt– it’s all fucking there, and it’s all for him.  You belong to him.  You’ve shown him so many times, over and over again that he has you, heart, mind, body, and soul.

“That’s it, dearheart…” he coos, shaky voice barely more than a murmur.  “You’re– you’re doing so perfect… You’re taking me so well.”

He feels you clench up again, walls trembling as you approach your next release.  You always did like when he’d purr such things in your ear.  It warms his heart in the strangest way to see it work just the same now.  

“O-One more for me.”  Wesker rasps brokenly, heavy breaths leaving him as he watches with an unyielding gaze.  He will not miss a second of this.  “It feels good, doesn’t it…? I can feel it too.”  He wants nothing more than to hear you come undone for him once more.  As if understanding his thoughts, the appendage in your mouth slips free, prompting you to gasp and choke desperately for air.  

You moan nonstop as if it were the only sound left that you could make.  It’s like you’ve been robbed entirely of higher thought and fell into a mindless state, one that could only comprehend the thickness ramming in and out of your cunt.  Your sweet noises pitch up more and more with every passing second, signaling your next climax is near.

Wesker wills the tentacles to tilt you upright, the big one still fucking into you despite the position shift, and you whine weakly at the change.  “Come for me, my sweet.” He commands, rising from his position to cup your cheeks between his hands.  As if fully understanding his order, you do exactly that, falling apart with a breathless scream cut off by the thick length slipping from your cunt while the others force you down onto his cock.  “Oh, god!”  He roars, face falling into the crook of your neck to muffle his own cries as his release hits him like a lightning bolt, coating your ooze slicked walls with his seed in heavy spurts.  

Albert’s eyes are clenched shut, but he swears his vision has gone white.  There’s nothing.  Nothing at all is left in this world except for your limp form in his hold and the heat of your flesh between his teeth.  Even when the oxygen in his lungs has gone stale, he still forgets to breathe.  It’s your trembling fingers curling at his nape that remind him he’s even still alive.

The two of you remain like that for some time, long enough that his legs go stiff and each slithering length once wrapped around your body retreats back into him.  You’re both covered in ooze, but he can’t find it in himself to care.  Not yet, at least.

You’re limp in his grasp, but he can tell you’re awake from the occasional scritch to the base of his neck or breath fanning against his skin.

“I… apologize.” He eventually murmurs.  It’s all he can think to say.  Certainly, you both would be having quite the conversation about this eventually.  But, for now, this much is due.  “For… having lost control.”  It isn’t even an exaggeration.  At some point, all thought went out the door.  There was only the two of you and every salacious desire he couldn’t suppress. 

He needs to become better at that.  

“Mm,” you hum weakly, fingers threading through his hair the way they always do in the afterglow.  “You’re full of surprises…”  There’s a hint of amusement in your voice.  That good natured softness with which you’ve always treated him.  “We gotta… mm, when my legs work again… it’s shower time.”

He couldn’t agree more.  For now though, he means to simply hold you, still buried within your heat.  You feel like home.  What luck to have found you…

And what bliss to know you’ll stay.

[nyxlarkyn]

Agatha All Along

Teen and Agatha have a very interesting dynamic going on so far. Three episodes in and this is what I'm gathering about where the writers are going with this.

Teen put the sigil there himself

Agatha is clearly not okay with the loss of her son Nickolas.

Teen's identity is unknown to her.

Teen's been downplaying his magical knowledge to lower Agatha and the other witches guard. He's out right stated he's a big fan of Agatha and admits to studying her, along with following Jennifer on Instagram, knowing about Alice and her mother. Hinting he has a good amount of knowledge on our coven. Yet there are times he'll ask questions about seemingly basic stuff, like "a gross name for honey" Alice's tattoo being a protection ward. His little notebook he's been keeping notes in which yes, he can be writing helpful witchy tips in or info for ulterior motives.

If he were to place a sigil on himself and then play clueless about it, it's a perfect way to hide who he is, Billy Maximoff, someone Agatha may not be so helpful towards because of Wanda; and direct Agatha's suspicions towards what she wants. Her son. His identity isn't a red herring for the audience. It's Billy's emotional manipulation of Agatha. He knows about Nick, he's studied her.

"They say no one really knows what happened to him. They say he might be dead, others say he might be a demon, or an agent of Mephisto. - I doubt she's even recognize her own son."

Teen is counting on Agatha's desire to push his agenda. Teen goes on a whole fanboy tangent about how the coven may have to use "Analog magic. Labour-intensive manual acts of labor--- Witchcraft! Emphasis on craft." to him "A what?" immediately playing dumb and knowing nothing about what sigils are or what type of magic it is.

Now obviously I'm of mind, based off leaks from different companies partnered with the show that Teen is Billy.

I don't think Billy is of malicious intent with Agatha. I think he views her as an aunt. I mean Agatha was seemingly their only babysitter (the exception of their "Uncle Pietro") and their moms go to help for things. That had to imprint some sort of bond between them in Billy's eyes.

"I know how people feel about her" he feels defensive towards her in this moment. Which is interesting because she did attack him and his brother when they were younger. I feel like despite their history Billy holds compassion for Agatha.

While we see just how devastated Agatha is about her loss in her hallucination. Her protectiveness/maternal instincts come into play when Teen is involved. Not letting him drink and being stronger on that boundary when she knows it's poison, coming to his defense and shielding him when the others learn of his sigil, to her demeaning nicknames (form of love language) to even the softer "It (the road) suits you." comment.

I'm excited to see how this dynamic continues to grow as the show progresses.

[lily-alphonse]

Sebastian's Age

Ok please excuse me while I get autistically pedantic about this but I do not believe Sebastian is 2 years older than Maru. How would that even happen? He’s not 20. He’s not 22. Sebastian is 26.

FOLLOW ME OK LETS GO FOR A WALK.

Canon Facts:

Maru is his half-sister

Demetrius does not have a single line of dialogue about Sebastian

Sebastian has only negative things to say about his step father

Sebastian and Robin have no lines about a biological father

Are you telling me that Sebastian was raised by this man from infancy? He was raised from infancy, with this man as his only father figure, with Maru as his sister very close in age, and has no relationship with either of them?

Is it technically possible? Yes, I will give you that! But it is far less likely. Especially in fictive works, we have to consider the more likely scenario.

The more likely scenario being: Demetrius entered Sebastian’s life when he was old enough to reject him as a father figure. At the earliest, I would say seven years old. But even that feels young? The average seven year old will WANT a father figure unless something goes terribly wrong (which I headcanon it does, but thats another post). Then, a year or so later, Maru was born.

By my conservative calculations that puts Maru at 18 and Sebastian at 26 for the events of the game. And it makes sense! A 26 year old could absolutely be working as a freelance software developer, AND still live at home.

A 26 year old man can be emo. What would be stopping him, he works freelance and everything? Maybe you think he’s younger because of the band, but again, can’t someone be in a band at 26? He is a working adult with a hobby.

I guess if you really hated Demetrius you could headcanon that Demetrius refused to see Sebastian as his son, and then that would excuse how he could be younger and still not have a relationship with him. But you'd have to also assume Robin was a pretty lackluster mom to get married to a man who refused to even try to love her baby.

Maybe you'd excuse it as them having had a falling out. Maybe there was a time when they did see each other as family, and the relationship fell apart. Okay, I think you'd still have to do some mental gymnastics to explain how Robin had a baby with one man and then another baby with a different man almost immediately. Maybe if Sebastian was the product of a one-night stand, and Demetrius was fine taking in a woman and her newborn baby. But again that feels like more of a stretch to me.

DISCLAIMER: Im open to everyone having their own headcanons, its just odd to me how prevailing fanon has him at ~22 and Maru 20 when that does not make sense to me considering the family dynamic

Am I missing something? Do you agree? If you have an alternate explanation I will be checking reblogs of this post

[talenlee]

Finding Pokemon That Wear Pants

Pokemon are lil guys. They are in many cases, just lil guys. But there are some Pokemon that exist further on the continuum of ‘a weird lil guy’ than other Pokemon. I’ve said in the past that if you found out your server at a fast food store was a Lucario, your reaction wouldn’t be ‘oh gross there’s an animal back there’ but ‘oh hi there lil guy.��

One of the traits of a lil guy versus an animal, though, is that lil guys do things in human ways – tool use, language, cultural practice, but most importantly of course, is wearing pants. Pants are how you represent a character as having some engagement with a greater society at large, which is pretty weird when you consider the nature of pants being gendered. Yes, it is a way in which we accept the Pokemon as being individuals in society, in that they buy into a gendered form of clothing. Wait, where was I?

Clothes! Clothes clothes clothes, fashion, style, these are important things for the identity of Pokemon. After all, Meowth engages in fashion, you Philistine, and Team Rocket’s Meowth is very high on the Lil Guy O Meter. If we assume a Pokemon needs to wear pants to ascend up into Lil Guy Status, then there’s surely a list of ways to investigate that, thanks to the Bulbapedia page of Costumed Pokemon.

(By this metric, Donald Duck isn’t a lil guy.)

Some Pokemon wear ‘stuff’ as part of their normal look. Particularly, Machoke wears a belt and what looks like booty shorts, which is fun because Machoke and Machamp have no gender dimorphism, which suggests that this beast has enough of a sense of modesty to not want something on their crotch exposed, but for all of the Maches, it’s tits out. Similarly, Mandibuzz has a bone in its … hair? Which is either a really weird thing for it to grow naturally or it’s an expression of some kind of aesthetic. Cubone and Marowak wear a skull, according to their pokedex entries (but the skulls of WHOM, we’re never clear on). And what’s more, there are, no doubt, a lot of Pokemon who wear pants in fanart — and whatever’s going on with Lucario is no doubt going to get edited by enthusiastic artists.

(Considering a regional variant of Lucario that has side pockets turning their thighs-that-look-like-shorts into cargos.)

Here is where we find ourselves with a problem about the assumptions of clothes-ness. The assumption for this sake is that unless we see some indication otherwise that the Pokemon’s component elements can be removed or changed, it doesn’t really ‘count’ as clothes because we can’t, for sure, say that it’s not just part of their body. Both Smeargle and Slowking look like they’re wearing hats but we know one of them it’s explicitly a symbiote and the other, we have no reason to believe it’s not part of its body.

Do we have any place where Pokemon wear clothes that are explicitly and obviously actually clothes, not standardised as part of the Pokemon’s design? Well, there’s a few obvious examples, in the form of the cosplay Pikachus from Pokemon Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire that lets Pikachu take on the form of things like a Luchador or a Rock Star. Pikachu can wear one of a number of hats, as well, and of course, transition her gender. Which is an odd thing to say, but that is literally what it looks like it’s doing. Continuing away from the Pikachu Privilege space, Pokemon Go brings us the Event Pokemon, which includes Squirtles wearing sunglasses, Pikachus wearing hats (god damnit, there they are again), and honestly pretty cute things like Blisseys in flower crowns, but nobody wearing pants. Jigglypuff, Pichu and Pikachu in Smash Bros don some headgear – caps and bandannas and crowns and bows, those are all accessorising. If we’re looking for signs of a Pokemon wearing pants, so far, all thse avenues leave us stuck looking at only Pikachu, and largely, it’s when Pikachu is doing some kind of a costume.

But hang on, what about skirts? The discerning person’s pant? Well, turns out that a whole range of Pokemon wear skirts in the anime! Serena has a Braxien that wears a skirt, and Dawn’s pokemon don skirts not just once, but thrice – and they’re different skirts!

Skirts, clearly, are more important than pants. After all, Pikachu has worn basically one kind of pants, so far and Buneary has worn an ice dancer skirt, a cheerleader skirt, and a maid skirt, which means that Buneary is three times the man Pikachu can be.

Still, the ever expanding leviathan of Pokemon is relentless and in its growth it eventually picked up a MOBA game, which… exists. Pokemon Unite is a game that allows players to buy skins that put ‘holographic’ clothes on their Pokemon, which I find a particularly novel idea because on the one hand, hey, clothes, on the other hand: why are they holograms. The fact they’re holographic clothes kind of underscores the idea that yeah, okay, sure, we’ll put these things in clothes but they’re not going to be clothes clothes. And they’re honestly, pretty sick! They look cool, and they really ramp up the lil guyness of the Pokemon wearing them!

Mostly though?

They don’t add pants.

Obviously at this point I am down a rabbit hole. I started looking into Pokemon clothes because it was interesting and then that led me to ‘pants’ because I thought that Donald Duck joke upstream was pretty good and that then led me here, and now I’m finding myself wondering just why pants are so rare in these kind of character designs. Across all the Pokemon Unite hologram outfits, I tracked about seventy five that I think count as wearing something like ‘pants’ or a skirt. There are some challenging judgement calls here, though; Blissey, Delphox, Hoopa and Tsareena are all built like their design incorporates a skirt, and their outfits don’t change that skirt design, either putting something above or below that, and I don’t know how to make that judgment call.

There are some truly unhinged choices in these designs, though. Originally this started out as a joke to make a sort of spreadsheet of the kinds of things that you can do with a Pokemon’s design but buckle up because now we’re dealing with something truly crackers. I want you to see these things. I want you, the majority of the people in the world who have not and never will play Pokemon Unite that read this blog, to see the way they decided to implement some of these outfits.

Over 378 costumes, about 73 of them introduce something like pants or a skirt to the Pokemon in question. Of those outfits, there are some truly amazing choices, like Absol asking and answering the question ‘if an Absol wore shorts, it would wear them like this.”

Where Pokemon with ‘skirts’ don’t change them with clothes, amazingly, Lucario and Cinderace, who look like they’re wearing shorts, add on extra elements that integrate those shorts, but also have costumes that change the shorts into other kinds of shorts. Which means that this outfit – well, okay, it’s a hologram we know how the outfit does it, but this outfit is basically painting their legs to fit a different aesthetic. Which I guess makes Cinderace a homestuck?

Special shout out here to Greedent, where taking a shirt and applying it to a pokemon that has otherwise entirely benign design of chest fur, somehow makes that fur look like some truly uncontrolled pubes.

I did also find that there’s a point where Mr Mime in Pokemon Unite can wear one outfit that adds shorts, which is somehow more perverse than not wearing them at all.

Alright, what does this tell us?

Absolutely nothing

But in the process I got to show you this picture of a Slowbro wearing gardening clothes, and the Mamoswine sticking its teeth through its hoodie sleeves made for them.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[klm-zoflorr]

Agnes Montague, the villain Phoenix :33

I used a stained glass filter on this one, looove how it looks. Also here are a few versions without as much editing so you can see the details.

Agnes is one of my favorites in this AU. And in general too I guess lol. So I made her entirely too overpowered! She's obviously based off Dark Phoenix/Jean Grey/The Phoenix from Xmen. Without as much of the hero-turned-villain vibes Jean has, Agnes can be nice but she's mostly a wrong-doer.

I'd probably say she's the most powerful super-human in the 'verse, or at least where the story takes place. Her and Magnus are buddy-buddies because. Um. I just want them to be.

So, her powers, right. She can control and produce fire, lots of it. She can fly. The wings only appear when she wants them to btw. I think she has some form of telekinesis, sure why not plus I don't have a lot of people like that in the verse (and I'm quickly running out of canon characters anyways loool). I don't think I'll give her too many psychic powers? Maybe just some ability to block psychic attacks. Oh well nevermind lets just make her cooler let's say she can attack people psychically, as in not quite read their thoughts (even if I think she could grasp on some of the things you're thinking while she's there) but like, cause intense pain to her victim and maybe even kill them by hitting them with her mind.

Her hands are more like talons or claws, with tough nails and strong, too. She can rip someone's face off or hold herself up with them.

The nature of her powers make them somewhat incontrollable and ill-suited for precision work or limiting damage/casualties.

Despite all of that, Agnes is very tired and looks as such. Her abnormal body warmth makes her sleep poorly and not very much, if she isn't setting the room on fire or throwing objects around when she's having nightmares. She holds off from getting intoxicated in any way because she might level off the whole island if she did.

And the cherry on the cake... She can ressurect herself. AND others. Let the holy cleansing fire engulf you and be reborn anew with your sins scrubbed clean yadda yadda you know the deal. It resets people to a younger age and cures any ailment they have, so that's a rather extreme form of healing too if you will.

Naturally, with that sort of powers the Cult Of The Lightless Flame (named like that because Agnes hoggs all the light) treats her as a goddess. Which isn't that far from the truth actually.

Suffice to say in the story she is not the big bad our heroes have to take down because that would be straight-up impossible.

Design notes and misc:

-I usually imagine her with dark hair, but for this AU she really just had to be a redhead I feel.

-Yes, in the art she doesn't have feet but that's just because I got lazy.

-She wears practical gloves, a guilded shiny supersuit, impractical shoulder pads and a white flowy skirt and shoulder sash that both get set on fire very frequently. This is meant to evoke how she mostly doesn't care or need to be dressing appropriately for fighting, she's too powerful to need to.

-She doesn't carry anything on herself either, no pockets no bags no nothing, she has goons for that. She's just there to look impressive and deus ex machina everyone's asses to the ground if they get too annoying.

-She's lived a long life, done a lot, was in the military at some point which influenced a lot of how she thinks. Again, she CAN be unfrivolous and practical, she just doesn't want to and has to remain a symbol. She can shoot a gun pretty well.

-Her "crown" (it's a paper crown) is something children that admired her gave her. She's very very careful not to burn it, but can't wear it everywhere either

-She's not much of a strategizer or a long-term planner unlike Magnus, she just doesn't see the point in that and she already has everything she could ever want. She could have the potential to rule the city instead of having everyone vaguely follow her lead, but she's just not much of a tyrant.

Oh, yeah, and Jude. Jude Perry is Agnes' right hand woman and closest friend, her villain name is Lampadarius and she can make anything that isn't organic matter melt/heat up (like those cans in MAG012: First Aid). One of her favorite tricks is heating up her gloves and burning people like that. It pisses her off when you call her Agnes' guard dog. She's been ressurected a few times by the Phoenix, so been around for a while too.

[browneyedbeauty5725]

Was scrolling through Polin twitter and was reading on the Penelope/Marina discourse again and I have more thoughts. Just rewatching the show and the whole situation you really start to see Whistledown was genuinely Penelope's only option. When you really look at what the other options were they all end up in the same ending except Whistledown.

Firstly Penelope did everything she could to talk Marina out of it before resorting to Whistledown and I see people say how could Penelope do that when Marina was so nice to her. Marina was nice to her until it no longer benefited her. The first chance she saw Penelope was no longer going to help her trap an innocent man Marina turned on her and became extremely cruel.

Pen's other options outside of Whistledown were limited. She could've gone to Violet or Anthony or like Colin himself said she could've told him herself. Say she did,say they believed her. Which Violet and Anthony probably would have, Colin probably wouldnt have he probably would've dismissed Penelope again. But say he believed her if he didn't choose to marry Marina anyway, Penelope telling any of them or all three would've more than likely not helped. Because they would've had to prove it true.

The way things were back then only the female could break off the engagement, which the only way Marina would do was if George had come back. So say Penelope tells them and they confront Marina and Portia, it more than likely would've ended with Colin being stuck because Marina could easily say Colin was lying. That he compromised her and got her with child and they had no way to prove it wasnt true. It wouldn't have mattered when the babies were born too early but were clearly full term. And them trying to elope made it look even more like they were Colin's. And Marina had made it perfectly clear she didnt give a damn about how anybody felt about her trapping Colin. So when you really truly think about it outing Marina in Whistledown was really the only option. Because there was absolutely no way to prove Colin wasn't the one who compromised Marina and got her with child.

And also when you think about it even Portia was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She had three daughters out in society, and suddenly she has to get this cousin married who happens to be with child before anyone finds out because her husband has put them so far in debt and her daughters reputations would have been ruined. And her trying to marry Marina to the old men was because they knew and didn't care about her situation they just needed an heir and were willing to claim her child and Portia thought they were so old they'd die soon anyway and Marina's child would inherit everything. She herself tried to talk Marina out of choosing Colin because she knew the risk was too great because of how well known and loved the Bridgertons were in society and only went with the Colin scheme when she realized Marina was not letting it go.

Was Marina's situation sad,yes it was. But Marina was not just a victim in this situation. She was a victim of her own circumstances and she put herself in the situation she was in. Point blank George shouldve married her before he left,he should've married her when he compromised her. And based on the fact she knew what missing her courses meant means she at least had some idea about what she and George were doing and what could happen. Marina was a victim of her own making and it was horrible and unfair,but she was also very much in the wrong for trying to do what she did to Colin.

[bad-as-me]

Morgott for the ask meme!

hell yes my boy!!

favorite thing about them

Honestly, Morgott covers the bases for a lot of things I'm weak for in a character. I love a guy who is so single-mindedly devoted to a cause, especially one driven by a need to be loved, that the rest of the world and their own well-being falls apart in the process. Something about the inherent tragedy of someone choosing to die on a hill that nobody asked them to take on, that would really be in their better interest to let go of and start anew elsewhere, and yet you want so badly for their efforts to be rewarded in some way because you know it's all for love.

It's just so terribly romantic in a gothic sense. He reminds me so much of the description of the creature in Frankenstein: someone that tried so hard to fit himself into the image of what his maker wanted, who speaks beautifully and eloquently in contrast to his rough exterior, who boasts an intelligence and a competency that was likely learned while hidden from society. And yet we know in both situations that effort will never be reciprocated.

Also, he growls and purrs and has a giant fluffy snow leopard tail. How can I not be obsessed with him.

least favorite thing about them

His big beautiful horns are so hard to draw :'(

Honestly, he's one of those characters where even his flaws are incredibly interesting to me. I like that he refuses to give up his position of power! It's something he worked so hard for, and to his mind must be the only way he can stay safe in a world that he knows wants him dead. I like that he can't let go of the status quo! As his Great Rune tells us, Omen or not he is the rightful Lord of Leyndell. By all standards of the world they're in, he has every right to be proud of that title. And given the alternatives he's likely had presented to him (Rykard, Mohg, the Frenzied Flame), why wouldn't he believe that this stagnant existence is the best he could ask for?

He's the immovable object to our unstoppable force. There's a nobility in his commitment to that, however misguided it may be.

favorite line

"We are all forsaken. None may claim the title of Elden Lord. Thy deeds shall be met with failure, just as I..."

I love his monologue in the beginning of his fight, but the fact that this is the last thing he says just tears me apart on so many levels. It really hammers home how much of his targeted spite towards us is him projecting his own sense of failure to his lineage. He crawled all this way through the mud, gave every drop of his accursed blood for the Erdtree, and it still wasn't enough. How could we possibly have a chance when all his efforts were for naught?

No matter how many times I replay it, I always take some time just to sit next to him after he says that, listening to the rain over the capitol and the somber song of Leyndell. The city really feels like it's in mourning at that moment, all for someone they hated too much to truly understand.

brOTP

Mohg and Morgott!!! The gruesome twosome!! The dynamic duo! Every piece of art or fic that depicts them having some brotherly squabbles and shenanigans brings a little bit of life back into my eyes :')

OTP

As far as canon characters go, it's gotta be Morgott/Oleg. We love a good knight/master ship around these parts, and I think he deserved someone as devoted to protecting him as he was devoted to his cause.

Outside of that, well. I am writing an ongoing fic of Morgott and my Night's Cavalry Tarnished (who was never a Tarnished but a secret third option, but you know.) I think about them a normal amount.

nOTP

Mohg/Morgott. I just want them to have one single family relationship in their life that is remotely healthy man 😭

random headcanon

He's good with animals, and prefers the company of them to people. Most of his communication to the Night's Cavalry is through carrier falcon, but if he needs to summon them all for a meeting, he can do so with an instrument that's very similar to an Aztec death whistle.

Also, he recanted his blood through the Church of Vows. Him and Miriel have a good rapport with one another.

unpopular opinion

Respectfully, I disagree with both the "Morgott is basically the Lands Between's evangelical gay republican" take, as well as the "Morgott is a soggy baby virgin who will cry if you give him a cookie" take.

I think he is a living contradiction in a lot of ways. He is simultaneously an accursed Omen, the lowest of the low, while also having tangible evidence that he is the child of a god and of a powerful bloodline. He has held Leyndell together for more than long enough both to be aware of its corruption, and to be in a position to change it, but he can't allow himself to believe any of it needs to be changed.

He is too stuck on the idea that he needs to uphold the way things are - to prove himself "better" than his curse - to change anything. This is directly contrasting his brother Mohg, who has made an entire cult around acknowledging the unjust suffering he went through.

Like the sealing of his blood into a sword, he represses that truth, until he is so broken down that it is released all at once - painfully and without control.

Because of this, I think he would recoil at the idea of being an object of pity. He has done too much to earn a respectable position for anyone to tell him that he deserves better - even if it's true, and he should be told that.

song i associate with them

Oh god I have a whole playlist of them. But if I were to narrow it down:

Sonne by Rammstein

Momma Sed by Puscifer

Romans 10:9 by The Mountain Goats

Helvegen by Wardruna

favorite picture of them

I am not exaggerating when I say this illustration by tendermiasma re-wired my brain on a fundamental level

[vodika-vibes]

Oya! ner burc'ya (You are the big sister of mine in this fandom, cant call you vod'ika xD)

Congrats for the followers! If I may make a suggestion:

Obi Wan × Fem Nautolan Jedi Reader & Harvest Festival & Angst and Romance (any n/sfw works)

I Will Be There

Summary: When you and Obi-Wan arrive on the planet for your latest mission, you expect it’ll be quick and simple. You do have the famed negotiator with you after all, but when negotiations are stalled due to a planet-wide harvest festival, he decides to take advantage of the situation.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x F! Nautolan Jedi Reader

Word Count: 975

Prompt: Harvest Festival

Warnings: Kinda angsty

A/N: Hi there! Thanks for the request! I like to joke that I'm only pretending to be a vod'ika, but I'm actually an ori'vod. Anyway, this has more angst and humor than romance, I think. But I was running out of words. And Obi-Wan gets 212 orange divider because my options were that or Howzer teal.

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Watching Obi-Wan work is always a treat.

For him, negotiations are like an art form, and watching him work is like watching a master artist craft a new masterpiece.

It almost makes you wish that your master taught you the intricacies of diplomacy. Almost. And then you remember that you love flying far too much to give it up for talking.

Still, you’re surprised that this mission is taking so long. 

Your gaze doesn’t wander away from the man you’re speaking to, though you do reach out through the force to send a questioning nudge toward Obi-Wan.

You get the sensation of disgruntlement from him.

Problems? You send, even as you cover your mouth to hide your smile at a joke the soldier told you. He’s flirting with you. Poorly, but still flirting all the same. Poor man actually thinks he stands a chance.

To put it mildly. Obi-Wan’s mental voice is silent for a moment, and then you get a feeling of warm amusement from him, having fun?

I can’t tell if he thinks he actually thinks he has a chance, or if he’s just flirting to flirt. You reply lightly.

Obi-Wan doesn’t reply, and you’re confused for a moment before you feel his hand press lightly on your shoulder, “Are you ready to head back to the hotel?”

“I’m ready if you are,” You reply with a single nod, and then you offer a shallow bow towards the guard, “Thank you for the information.” He bows back, and then turns and marches away, and you allow yourself to fall into step with Obi-Wan.

He’s frowning slightly, that doesn’t bode well.

Still, you’re skilled enough to know better than to say anything while you’re still in the Parliament building, though the moment you step outside, you turn to look at him, “You said that there are problems?”

He nods, “Yes. The negotiations have stalled.”

You blink at him, “They haven’t even started yet.” You take a moment to pull the leather band keeping your head tentacles bound behind you off, and you shove the cloth into your pocket, “How can they have already stalled?”

“Because of the harvest festival.” Obi-Wan replies, “It starts tomorrow, and it lasts for the majority of the week. Apparently, it’s illegal for government offices to work during the harvest festival.”

“Then why did they call us now?”

Obi-Wan shrugs, “I couldn’t begin to guess, honestly.” He absently rubs his jaw, “But since we’re already here—”

You gasp theatrically, “Don’t tell me that Golden Boy Kenobi is suggesting that we take some downtime at the harvest festival!”

He waves his hand towards you dismissively, “Don’t call me that, but yes. I am.” Obi-Wan pauses and then glances at you and there’s a look on his face that makes your face burn, “It’ll be nice to spend time with you, just the two of us.”

You’re not stupid. Or blind.

This thing between you and Obi-Wan has been there since you were both initiates. And while your masters both did their best to squash it before it became a problem, it never really worked.

“Careful Golden Boy,” You tease with a heavy heart, “You’re going to lose your sheen.”

“It’s just us here, Little Blue,” Obi-Wan counters, using his private nickname for you.

“Yeah, but we both know that’s a bell that can’t be unrung,” You turn away from him and fold your arms behind your head, “Anyway, we should get back to the hotel.”

Obi-Wan hurries to keep up with you, “You do remember that we’re sharing a room, right?”

“Ew, boy cooties.”

He elbows you, “What are you, 5?”

“Five times more mature than you are,”

He glares at you and then, with a shove, pushes you into the pond you’re walking past. “Gosh,” Obi-Wan says with an unrepentant grin, even as he offers you his hand, “You should be more careful, my old friend.”

You huff and take his hand, “When we get back to Coruscant, I’m stealing Ani and telling him about the bubbles in the fountains.”

“That was your idea.”

“I don’t recall.”

You resolutely ignore the way that your hand tingles when he takes your hand in his and pulls you back to your feet. And you ignore the way his thumb slides against the top of your hand. And you ignore the way that your hearts race when you stumble against him because you’re lighter than he assumed.

You ignore a lot of things when it comes to Obi-Wan.

You know that it’s only a matter of time before one of you slips on this tightrope the pair of you have been walking since you were children. You just hope that no one gets hurt when one of you falls.

The following morning, Obi-Wan drags you out of the hotel to explore the Harvest Festival, his hand firm in yours as he drags you from stall to stall.

And you should have known better than to assume that it was innocent.

Because when Obi-Wan tugs you into a dark alley, you don’t fight him on it.

When he shares his pastry with you, you don’t question it.

When he leans in and kisses powdered sugar off your lips, you don’t stop him. 

When your back hits the stone wall behind you, and he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding down your body to wrap securely around your waist, you wrap your arms around his neck and tangle your hands in his soft hair.

And when he whispers that he loves you, you let out a laugh that’s more of a sob as you tell him you love him too.

This story doesn’t have a happy ending. You know it. He knows it. But right here, right now the galaxy is at peace and you can pretend that a happy ending is in your story.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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@justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

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[asmo-cosmetics]

so far the thing i like best about nu: carnival is that eiden is genuinely lovely and i completely understand why all these dudes are just dropping everything to follow him around

[weskie]

What You Deserve (Albert Wesker x amab!Reader)

18+ | 2700 words, salacious use of tentacles, post re5 wesker, one of those things that was meant to be sweet but became nasty, afab!reader version here | Fic Directory

You've taken such good care of him. Isn't it time he rewards you? Be careful though. Some things are still a little… new.

You were something else.  Frankly you always have been, but now more than ever.

 Despite waves of self loathing and rampant depression of which he would never confess, Wesker’s recovery has been as smooth as you could make it.  Pain medication kept most of the lingering aches away and Uroboros had ensured he lived to see another day.  Other than a weakened body riddled with scar tissue from his little dunk in the fires of the Earth, he couldn’t complain terribly much.

Even after his fusion with Uroboros, Wesker was still a mere man unable to escape the more… basic urges.  He’s always considered arousal to be like an itch.  Sure he could scratch it, but he could also ignore it and let it go away.  He often chose the latter, but, with little else to occupy him besides literature or your company, such a choice became significantly more difficult.

You notice his state quickly, though you say nothing of the tented blanket that only seems to continue rising the more he tries to ignore it.  You simply take his hand and squeeze, occupied with your laptop while Wesker rereads the same line of his book over and over again in a poor attempt to settle down.  When he tips his head back against the mountain of pillows he’s propped against, you give him a knowing look.

“Want some help?”  You ask, thumb brushing against his knuckles.

Does he?  He did go waist deep in lava. Thus far, it had seemed Uroboros took care to heal his nerves in all other places, and he’s never noticed a lack of sensation in the times where he’s had to touch himself to bathe, but what if he can’t feel enough to… perform well for you?  Was it even the full act of sex that you were offering or simply assistance in relieving him?

Perhaps the uncertainty was written across his face because you turn to face him, hand rising to stroke his cheek and trail into his unstyled hair.  Your touch spurs another aching pulse between his legs.  “Only if you want to,” you say sweetly. 

He pretends to consider your offer, but his answer was yes the very moment you spoke.  The second your thumb brushes his lip, he’s tugging you onto his lap.  He swallows your protests with ease, groaning weakly into the kiss.  Wesker knows you’re afraid to put your weight down on him, still so worried about agitating his aches and pains.  He has half a mind to grip your hips and help you grind against him, but you’re taking charge before he can.

“Let me,” you murmur, lips trailing down his neck.  You halt at the collar of his sleep shirt, moving away only to help him pull it over his head.  Your hands land on his sides, smoothing up and down slowly, stroking reverently at the juxtaposition of softness and patches of scarring.  Each motion brings you closer and closer to his chest until you’re kneading his pectorals, thumbs brushing against rosy buds in such a way that leaves him panting.

It really has been a while… the throb of his cock confirms it.  He has half a mind to just tear at your clothes and rush you to take him, but you seem to sense his impatience just as easily as you’d noticed his need.  “M’gonna take care of you,” you whisper sweetly, palms coaxing him to rest fully against the pillows. “You deserve it.” You slip so easily down his body, blanket falling away to reveal black boxer briefs that have clearly garnered a little wet spot from such light teasing.  “Just relax.  Shut your eyes, sweetheart.”

He does as you say, releasing a shuddering breath in anticipation for what’s to come.  It turns to a gasp the second your tongue laves the dip of his hips.  Your hands steady him with gentle pressure, shirking their duty when you decide to skim your nails over ticklish flesh and wring a breathy giggle from him.

He can feel your smile as you kiss further down, sensation dulling when your peppered love finds its way to the band of his underwear, renewing once more when you peck sweetly at his inner thighs.  Wesker’s hips seek you of their own accord and he’s lucky enough to feel at least one press of your lips to his covered length before you make your way back up.  He practically bucks into your grasp when you take hold of him. 

“Seems like everything's in working order,” you coo playfully in his ear.  

Wesker finds his lower lip to gnaw on while you stroke him slowly.  His hands paw at your clothes, eagerly trying to expose you.  His eyes flutter open, pupils blown wide around distorted hues of red and blue still vying for dominance over one another.  He’s just about got your shirt off when that hand of yours dives beneath his waistband, milking the most humiliating whine from him imaginable.

What's wrong with him? Why is he so… desperate? 

His hands leave you to shimmy out of his underwear, hissing at the cool air and the mere sight of your hand around his weeping cock.  He turns back to you, keening into a kiss as he tries once more to tug at your clothes.  He hoists your leg over his hip, palm smoothing to take a greedy handful of your rear, playing with your flesh as you’d done with him.  Everything about you is bliss itself, from your slow, torturous strokes to his cock to the slide of your tongue against his.  You should be bare against him, skin to skin, letting him feel every inch of you. He needs it. He needs you. 

Suddenly, a humming laugh escapes you, reverberating against his tongue before you break away.  “Again, huh?”  You breathe.  

Again… yes. 

Once more, tendrils have wound their way around you to do his bidding, but this time for more… salacious reasons.  Each one wriggles under your clothes in some way or another.  You aid them in their quest to strip you, tugging your shirt and pants away with ease while the masses slither just as eagerly as his hands explore.

It’s so cute how you squirm for him.  It’s as if the tables have been turned oh so perfectly, leaving you just as red in the face as you’d made him.  He may not have his full strength yet, but this?  This more than makes up for it.  One tentacle coils at your waist, holding you perfectly in place as the others find themselves far more… occupied.  Your giggles turn to breathy moans, each one sung perfectly for him.  You’re like an instrument only he can play, your pleasure a melody only he can create.

“W-Wo– Ah!”  You gasp, head lolling to the side the very second one of those slimy appendages creeps between your legs.  Your first instinct is to clench your thighs together, though you don’t get very far with having been straddling him. The tip of it ghosts over the length of your cock, making you buck and whine.  “Al!” 

Tantalizing was… not a strong enough word for the sight before him.  These appendages have always carried a degree of wetness, some leaky black ooze that only ever left a small mess, but now?  Oh, now they leave clear glistening trails along your flesh that make his cock utterly ache.  It’s as if he’s painting you with his own arousal, picture perfect and drenched in his love just like you should be.  The tentacles trail over where he wants to see you marked most: your chest, your neck… all the way down to your twitching shaft. 

“Al, I–” You try, but you’re whimpering as more slithering lengths join in to curl around your thighs.  He didn’t even have to lift a finger…  There’s so many things he could do with you.  He could lift you, surely, to his face.  Slide his tongue that’s been so starved for you from base to tip and wrap his lips around the head of you, suckling away at your dribbles of arousal.   Or he could lower you onto his cock right now.  Forget effort; you wouldn’t have to do a thing.  He could simply maneuver you accordingly, bounce you up and down with their grip on your body until you were both fucked senseless.  Or…

Wesker’s chest rises and falls with each open mouthed breath, watching with wide eyes as three smaller tendrils approach your hole.  You squirm, but you show no sign for him to stop even as they alternate swiping along your opening.

“I-I thought– mm!”  You try, words as shaky as your trembling body. “T-Thought I was gonna t-take care of you instead…”  

“You are…” he breathes, utterly hypnotized as more tentacles join the fray and suddenly, without warning, you’re spread completely for him, slithering lengths taking your legs while smaller ones find their way to your rear, baring your hole to him.  You’ve been put on exhibit, and oh… how you writhe and keen under his sopping touches.  All Wesker can do is simply lie there, cock torturously hard at the sight of you like this.  He dares not touch himself; he dares not even imagine it lest one of those lengths creep to coil around it to satisfy the urge.

“A-Albert– ngh!”  Every cry you make fuels whatever hidden desires lurk below the surface of his mind.  Nothing in the world could’ve prepared him for the sight of an extra thick tentacle slinking along your leg, coiling up and up until it presses at your entrance.  “O-Oh my god!”  You mewl, head falling back.  “I don’t– I don’t think I can– that’s too big… Al, I don’t think I can– Ah!”

Exhilaration runs down his spine as though every nerve in his body fired at once.  Watching it press into you, seeing every ounce of slick drip from its effort to wriggle inside as you keen and mewl and cry out his name over and over again as if to pray to him…  Wesker licks his lips, panting heavily, fighting to keep control despite that knot in his gut threatening to give at any moment.  His fists bite into the sheets, threads popping as they give way to his strength.  

“O-Oh g-god,” you sob, barely audible over wet squelches.  “P-Please… Al, p-please!”

“I…” he tries, but he has no words.  Nothing in the world could possibly explain this– why it was happening, why he was allowing it, why… why he fucking loves it.  

But he does know why, deep down.  Past that layer of perfect prudence and discipline lies the truth.  You deserve this.  You deserve every ounce of pleasure he can stuff into you.  For all that you’ve done for him… you deserve everything. 

You cry out over and over again as the thickness fucks in and out of you, slick drizzling from your ass onto the bed.  It soaks his hips and cock, oozing off to coat the sheets and surely seep down into what was now a ruined mattress.  But he doesn’t care.  Not one bit.

The tentacles wriggle all over you, slithering and rubbing against tender flesh, restraining the intense trembling of your legs as you dangle helplessly.  He can practically hear it hitting the depths of you, each noisy, wet thrust coupled with your sweet songs a promise of your never ending pleasure.  And oh… you deserve it.  You deserve all that he can possibly give you.  You were there for everything.  The good, the bad, the horrifying…  Every part of him is yours, which means you get this, too.  

The first time you cry out his name is perfection in and of itself.   You come undone so beautifully, cock spurting your release onto his chest.  He has to grasp himself and squeeze the base damn near to the point of pain just to keep from blowing his load right then and there.  Watching you practically seize in his slithery grasp, hearing you gag and gurgle on one that had slipped between your lips, knowing you’re so fucked out of your mind that you could do little else than suckle its length as if it were his cock… 

Even then, it’s like he can feel it.  The sensation is dull, but it is there.  Your lazy tongue, the clench of your throat, the warmth of your breath, the throbbing quiver of your walls– it’s all fucking there, and it’s all for him.  You belong to him.  You’ve shown him so many times, over and over again that he has you, heart, mind, body, and soul.

“That’s it, dearheart…” he coos, shaky voice barely more than a murmur.  “You’re– you’re doing so perfect… You’re taking me so well.”

He feels you clench up again, walls trembling as you approach your next release.  You always did like when he’d purr such things in your ear.  It warms his heart in the strangest way to see it work just the same now.  

“O-One more for me.”  Wesker rasps brokenly, heavy breaths leaving him as he watches with an unyielding gaze.  He will not miss a second of this.  “It feels good, doesn’t it…? I can feel it too.”  He wants nothing more than to hear you come undone for him once more.  As if understanding his thoughts, the appendage in your mouth slips free, prompting you to gasp and choke desperately for air.  

You moan nonstop as if it were the only sound left that you could make.  It’s like you’ve been robbed entirely of higher thought and fell into a mindless state, one that could only comprehend the thickness ramming in and out of your hole.  Your sweet noises pitch up more and more with every passing second, signaling your next climax is near.

Wesker wills the tentacles to tilt you upright, the big one still fucking into you despite the position shift, and you whine weakly at the change.  “Come for me, my sweet.” He commands, rising from his position to cup your cheeks between his hands.  As if fully understanding his order, you do exactly that, falling apart with a breathless scream cut off by the thick length slipping from your ass while the others force you down onto his cock.  “Oh, god!”  He roars, face falling into the crook of your neck to muffle his own cries as his release hits him like a lightning bolt, coating your ooze slicked walls with his seed in heavy spurts.  

Albert’s eyes are clenched shut, but he swears his vision has gone white.  There’s nothing.  Nothing at all is left in this world except for your limp form in his hold and the heat of your flesh between his teeth.  Even when the oxygen in his lungs has gone stale, he still forgets to breathe.  It’s your trembling fingers curling at his nape that remind him he’s even still alive.

The two of you remain like that for some time, long enough that his legs go stiff and each slithering length once wrapped around your body retreats back into him.  You’re both covered in ooze, but he can’t find it in himself to care.  Not yet, at least.

You’re limp in his grasp, but he can tell you’re awake from the occasional scritch to the base of his neck or breath fanning against his skin.

“I… apologize.” He eventually murmurs.  It’s all he can think to say.  Certainly, you both would be having quite the conversation about this eventually.  But, for now, this much is due.  “For… having lost control.”  It isn’t even an exaggeration.  At some point, all thought went out the door.  There was only the two of you and every salacious desire he couldn’t suppress. 

He needs to become better at that.  

“Mm,” you hum weakly, fingers threading through his hair the way they always do in the afterglow.  “You’re full of surprises…”  There’s a hint of amusement in your voice.  That good natured softness with which you’ve always treated him.  “We gotta… mm, when my legs work again… it’s shower time.”

He couldn’t agree more.  For now though, he means to simply hold you, still buried within your heat.  You feel like home.  What luck to have found you…

And what bliss to know you’ll stay.

[the-unconquered-queen]

Thinking about how much I'd enjoy it if PB did a soulmates book. And I mean just absolutely leaning into the soulmate tropes (timers, name on body, first words, grayscale vision, any of it).

It would probably be single-LI, and if they did it well, I wouldn't mind, but a cool concept would be if it were multi-LI but the thing is that theirs and MC's soulmate indicators aren't manifesting yet (maybe they appear at a set age, or only after soulmates fall in love, etc.) and then whichever LI you had the most soulmate interactions with is coded as your endgame LI and turns out to be MC's soulmate.

Idk, I was just thinking about which literary tropes PB's done and soulmate AUs are tied for first place fanfic trope of all time for me, so I am beyond curious as to how it would look in a Choices book.

[genekies]

tag vent

[fisforfreakyme]

Am I getting old or the constant need from certain groups to make every morally questionable/utter piece of shit character some uwu soft boi with issues is getting really fucking annoying

[sysig]

Size difference.png (Patreon)

[theflyingfeeling]

fic talk in the tags 💝