#buckles laboratory

[mariahryry]

Outside 🔥

[sozaire]

Mariah the scientist for Spiderworldwide

[musictyme]

Mariah the Scientist - Church

[miissbbyk]

[blood-smiles]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓...𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃

Long ago, it was said that humanity thrived together as a whole in peace and harmony, they all went to the same places and had similar experiences, they shared and traded food and items, the peace was always kept because of laws, the air was pure and the water was clear and tasteless, complete perfection.

But where was that now? It’s the year 2313, it’s been a long time since that chapter was ripped from the ancient book of humanity,

You wrapped a mask around your head, clicking your tongue as your fingers fiddled with the leather buckles of the mask,

After a struggling with the mask for a few seconds you finally succeeded in fastening the item to the back of your cranium,

The thick belt wrapped around your head and behind your ears, the borders of the leather digging into your skin and leaving an aching red imprint on your head,

You steadily got up from your couch, walking over to the deserted shopping cart in the corner, putting your hands around the cart’s bars and lifting it up from the floor, putting it back on its wheels as it used to be,

You rolled the cart around your laboratory, listening for squeaks or strange sounds, when you made sure there wasn’t any problems with the cart you put it aside momentarily,

You ran over to one of your counters as snatched a pair of goggles from the metal surface,

Securing them on your eyes as best you could, your hands grabbed the flimsy fabric of your coat and pulled up the hood, you were all geared up and ready to go.

Your hands gripped the bar of your shopping cart, your eyes scanning the inside of the empty shopping cart, the once silver metal was oxidizing, slowly turning into a murky brown tint,

you pushed your cart through your run down town, waving at acquaintances and kicking little pebbles out of your way,

This is how your everyday life went, around 5 p.m you would get geared up and go into the junk yard to look for unwanted “trash” from Ether,

most of the time what you found wasn’t even trash, maybe a little worn down, but these people were throwing away full shampoo bottles and moisturizers! You wish you had that problem..

Ether was the island above the slums or better know as “the pit”, Ether was known as the place only peasants like you could wish they could end up there, which wasn’t ever going to happen,

Only the richest of the rich or elite are allowed up there, and the people down in the pit were uneducated and poor, having nothing more than a button and a few pieces of clothes to their name,

Truly pitiful, and you were no different, the only thing you had was a run down laboratory your father left behind,

He was supposedly a smart man, one of the first developers of the species known as “Androids” yet none of his work was given credit towards him, which ended him up here, in the pit.

You knew how to repair an android, but coding one was beyond your abilities, you worked as a handyman for a few silver coins, that’s how you went on about life,

You developed your skills as you went, and apparently the only note worthy trait you had was your ability to salvage broken things,

You kicked away some trash with your muddy boots, the rubbish flying far away and into the piles of trash,

“Fuckin’ trash..” you complained under your breath, your heavy duty boots clinging to the sticky mud underneath, making unpleasant squelches in the mud,

The sound of clanking was heard when the piece of trash hit a surface, your ears immediately pricked up,

Whipping your head into the direction of where the trash fell, you immediately let go of your cart and jogged over to a pile of crap,

You stepped onto the unsteady heap of trash, your knee beginning to buckle under your own weight, warning you that you were about to loose your footing,

You fell forward, wind brushing by your ears as you began your descension , sticking your arms out, you braced for the impact,

with a loud clank you landed on top of a scrap of metal, your hands laying on a hard, cool material, you pushed yourself off the object to get a better look on it,

it seemed to hold a humanoid shape, but it by no means looked like one, instead of a face it had a screen, which was pitch black and roughed up, split right through the middle, nothing you couldn't fix.

It didn't have the look of a typical android, it seemed like it was missing its silicone skin, a normal android look closely alike to a human, this one looked more like a robot,

Its body was large, made of a sturdy material, despite having no muscles it did have something alike to it but made of steel, the shine being dulled by the dirt,

your eyes trailed to its chest, which was steel, a shocker. It seemed to have a symbol on its left pectoral in an electric blue tint, while its right one seemed to have a name tag, but the letters were scratched off, what looked deep jagged scratches on its chest, whoever did this either didn't like their name or didn't want anyone to see its real name,

that logo.. That was the logo of the best android engineers in Ether, Its obviously an android, but its strange that they would throw out androids,

your eyes wandered down the android's body to its legs, which were missing, cables poked out of the holes where its legs were supposed to be,

you rand your hand down your face, where were its fucking legs? You couldn't take it home without its legs! You put the Android's upper body on your back, then letting it slip off your back and into your shopping cart with a loud bang,

you began to look around, lifting rubbish with the tip of your shoe, peeking under all surfaces until you saw what seemed to be a foot poking out from a pile of soggy cardboard,

you pulled out the limb with your whole body weight, the sheer height and thickness of that single limb was impressive, the leg stood in height about where your waist was,

you tossed the heavy limb in your shopping cart with the Android, you walked around for about 40 minutes, looking everywhere for the other leg,

just when you were about to give up you tripped over something, looking at what made your hit the ground, you realized it was the leg you were looking for,

your heart beat happily in your chest as you pushed the heavy cart back to your house lab,

you had a dopey grin on your face the whole way home, you couldn't help but have a pep in your step, you were already thinking of how you would name your new Android,

"(Y/n)? O-Oh! It is you! How are you, sweet pea?" You could recognize that voice anywhere, if it wasn't the the village doctor!

You turned around, smiling widely at the man, still in his clad white uniform, hair tie slipping down his long ginger hair, and those characteristic cracked glasses, it was Kairo.

"Heya Kairo! 'm good, jus' pushin this home.'" You waved to him weakly, your calloused hands tired from pushing the cart,

Kairo jogged up to you, stopping only inches away, he brought a hand up to his face, his cheeks adorned with alight dusting of pretty pink,

"I recall asking you to rest, didn't I? You better have a good reason to be wearing yourself out like this.." the ginger scolded, crossing his arms across his chest, his magenta eyes staring you down something alike to a mother’s disappointed gaze,

Kairo was an absolute blessing to have down here in the slums, he was the doctor and used to be a scientist, his knowledge in both fields was greatly appreciated, especially since it seemed the world had it out for you and your physical well being,

he got kicked out of Ether many years ago, you were about 13 when he got dropped in the pit,

He really stirred the pot when he got here, no one even tried getting closer to him due to their reluctance about him and his origins, no one here trusts those who were born in Ether,

Kairo got pushed away, glared at, kicked and even sometimes people spat on him, no one really knows what he did to get him off Ether,

Yet it is still a fact that even if the others have warmed up to him, they still treat him exponentially different from the other habitants of the slums,

you were the first and only one to extend your hand out to him in times of need, you gave him a safe haven when he needed it most, and just for that fact he has sworn to always be with you, through thick and thin, he will protect you and put you back together time and time again, just how you loved him, he will love you back tenfold.

your smile turned bashful, wiping your sweaty hands on your shirt you started trying to recount the events of today,

"..So then I decided to take him home to repair him back up! He's in pretty good shape, I jus need ta' wire his legs back on then fix his screen, give him a lil' bath and I will be done with him!"

Kairo looked back at the robot with narrowed eyes, a dark shadow casting over his pale features,

you felt oddly unsettled by his sharp gaze, this side of him was completely unknown to you, and gee was it scary.

"..Where did you find this thing?" He asked—no, demanded, his voice dropping an octave lower, the sharpness of his tone wasn't quite directed at you though, but more at the robot in your cart,

"Uhm, I found him in the Junk yard.." You rasped out, your throat feeling constricted, words barely audible out of the feeling of fear you had, this mood of him was awfully uncharacteristic of him, it really creeped you out,

Kairo seemed to notice your state, the last thing he would want was to make you fear him.. for now, he will let it go.

"I see.." the taller male responded, a tinge of worry in his voice "Well, all I ask of you is to be careful, you don't know where it came from, and personally, I don't want to see you hurt.." He hugged himself, looking off to the side shyly, his gloved hand reaching up to twirl a strand of his cantaloupe colored hair around his finger,

the carefree smile you had earlier started returning as you saw Kairo softening up again, you were glad he wasn't upset at you,

you ran up to him, momentarily leaving your cart and new companion behind to give him some affection,

your arms wrapped around his slender waist as you cuddled his chest, your cheek pressed up right next to his heart,

Kairo's breath hitched, a kaleidoscope of butterflies going off in his guts, the wings of the small insects making contact with his insides, the pleasant feeling didn’t help the flush in his face spreading like a wildfire,

his longer arms wrapped around your neck, hugging you closer to him, he pressed his lips against your forehead gently, intentionally catching a whiff of your hair's scent, ‘my sweet baby.. You really don’t realize what I feel for you, do you?’ His eyes fluttered closed, long eyelashes ghosting over his tired under eyes,

these were the moments with you he could kill for, he would do anything to be this close to you always, skin to skin, heart to heart, and hopefully one day, lips to lips.

The ginger reluctantly let go, crossing his arms once again as he gazed at your retreating form longingly, his mind couldn't help but wander back to that specific Android, dangerous thoughts leaking into his brain continuously like a broken faucet,

"If you do something to her, I will rip your fucking head off.."

But you on the other hand were giddy as fuck, you had already unloaded the android and sat him down on your lab counter,

lifting his left leg up you propped it below the wires hanging off the holes of where his legs were supposed to be in,

you connected the wires carefully, melting them together once again, soon you connected the legs into his hip socket, a loud clicking noise let you know you did the job correctly,

you did the same with his right leg, another loud click reached your ears, you pulled on the legs as best as you could from different angles, and they wouldn't budge, not a single creak or sign of the limbs wanting to detach from the body anymore,

and with that you moved onto the cracked screen of the head of the android,

you somehow managed to seal the cracks and give the mask a polish to leave it looking good as new, you were pretty satisfied with the results,

you scrubbed off the dirt and grime off the metallic protective plates, you scrubbed and scrubbed every single crevice of its body until the robot was spotless and shining under the dim lighting,

he was beautiful.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest, anxiety coursing through your veins, sweat beads ran down your skin, dampening your shirt,

you opened the back of his cranium, cables wrapped in metallic material linking to the back of his head, a blue power button inside all the wires and mother boards inside, green and silver peeking out from inside his head,

you pressed on the button, then stepped back, crossing your fingers that he would come to life, you clasped your hands together in prayer,

buzzing came from the Android, limbs twitching, sparks coming from its joints,

soon, the screen on its "face" lit up, something alike to a smiley face being displayed on the black screen,

it looked down at its hands, closing and opening its fists, kicking its legs, it realized it was alive once more, that it was moving and that it was okay,

you didn’t know how to react, should you be happy? Scared? It was all so conflicting, you wanted to jump out of happiness but at the same time you wanted to run away, cry and vomit.

It turned its head to you, the gentle sound of ticking coming from deep inside his metal plates,

The sound of its metallic feet hitting the murky ground startled you, making you jump violently, you would have jumped out of your skin if it came closer,

It seemed to stop when it saw that you were scared, and so it stopped, it stared at you, not moving an inch from it place,

slowly, it extended its long arm, opening its robotic palm and holding it out to you, (e/c) looked down at its hand, analyzing how his joints popped and twitched,

you were starting to regret taking the massive machine home, Kairo was right, this Android totally had something off about it,

but even as your common sense screamed at you to stay back and run away, it all was drowned out by the overlapping thoughts buzzing in your head,

how much could this thing sell for? It was modified, Obviously, it was crystal clear that these modifications had been done illegally,

you carefully put your smaller hand in his own, you looked up at the screen that was his face warily,

“a-ah..” the android made a noise, was his voice box broken? You tried repairing him as best as you could, but his voice box was something you unfortunately didn’t know how to repair,

he pointed a finger towards you, tilting his head while making more noises,

“ah.. ah?” Was it asking you something? It gently tapped your arm, pointing at you,

oh. It was asking you for your name.

“oh.. You can’t speak, can you?” It shook its head, putting it hand on its throat to emphasize,

“well.. I’m (Y/n), and.. It’s nice to finally meet you..?” You coughed into your fist as you finished, awkwardly shifting from side to side,

an emoticon of sorts appeared on the metallic male’s face visor, it seemed… happy?

“Aaah?” It pointed to itself, looking down at its name tag, only to realize that it had completely scratched off,

it stayed silent before looking up at you, gently guiding your hand to its chest, where it’s name tag once resided,

“..You want a name?” It nodded, pointing to itself once again,

“..I actually was thinkin’ about what to name you.. Welcome to the world, Exo.” You gave it a toothy grin, watching as how the screen visor of his suddenly showed a blue glowing heart,

It took you by surprise when the droid grabbed onto you by under your arm pits, lifting you up to his height,

you watched as how the glowing blue heart on his visor beat like how a heart would, and it only seemed to be getting faster,

it brought you closer to it, holding you like a baby, it rubbed its cheek(?) against yours, the uncomfortable friction of its glass screen making contact with your own,

And that’s when you heard it, a low rumbling sound resounded from its chest, the vibrations melting against your skin,

is he fucking purring..?

“I’m glad— urgh.. you liked your name..” you barely made out, trying to create some space between both of your bodies, however the bot wouldn’t move a centimeter away from you,

after pleading with it, he decided to put you down,

it gently pat your head, before putting its hands on its knees to observe you more closely,

“uh.. Okay, Well.. You can just follow me around, I want to see how good of a job I did at fixing you..” and with that you walked out of your laboratory,

a larger hand grabbed onto your sleeve, you already knew who it was so you didn’t spare him a look,

you let him grab onto your sleeve, the cool feeling of it’s metal fingers making contact with your skin,

Exo didn’t know what to make of things, he was especially surprised when he woke up to a little human greeting him,

he couldn’t see anything, but from the noises and fleeting touches around his body he could tell that someone was trying to fix him up,

and then he could see everything, from the little scars on your skin to the exact shade of your eye color,

his memory board felt empty, he tried to remember, but his mind was a blank slate, it was like trying to squeeze water from a stone, impossible.

but one thing he did know was that he was eternally indebted to this cute human, Exo wanted to assume that this was his creator, but he knew better, his real creator didn’t care about him,

he knew he was thrown off somewhere high, he didn’t know when or from where, but just that action showed him that whoever created him had no care for him,

But.. You took the time to fix him with your caring hands, you didn’t have any obligation whatsoever to even touch him, but you did,

from looking down at his own body he could tell you spent countless hours polishing his body, not even a crevice of his body had a single spot of filth,

his joints were smooth, his movements were swift and elegant, something he never thought he would be able to regain,

you might as well be his owner now, you are so small.. So frail, he looked down at you and he felt this inexplicable feeling of wanting to grab you and cradle you like a human baby,

your smaller form was so comfortable to hold in his arms, he could accommodate his body to your liking,

he understands that his chest isn’t the most comfortable, under the heavy metal plating there is soft layers of silicone that could help with trying to make you more comfy against his body,

he wished nothing more than to communicate with you, to tell you how much he appreciated you and how he wished to serve you in the way you served him,

but the only type of noise that made it out of his mouth (?) was pathetic moans and sighs, that was no way to communicate with you,

He heard the voice of a man earlier, his sensors picked up on his heart rate, it was.. familiar, he knew that rhythm from some where.. but he can’t quite remember from where,

this mysterious man’s heart beat spiked up as soon as you approached him, his breathing turned slower and heavier,

Exo heard you call out to that man, apparently his name was Kairo.. the android repeated his name in his mind, Kairo, Kairo, Kairo.. That was an unusual name..

then he spoke, and his voice hit home, he still had no idea who this man was, but his hate for him tenfolded,

Exo hated how he spoke to you, his voice was so warm and welcoming towards you, pure love and adoration in his tone, he just knew that man wanted to shove his tongue down your throat, repulsive.

but Exo has claimed you long ago, ever since you picked him up and ever so gently put him into your cart he had vowed to be by your side,

‘Kairo’ directed his tone towards him and Exo didn’t like it one bit, his tone was so sharp, the iron-clad Android could feel the intensity of ‘Kairo’ on him, his eyes feeling like they could burn through the thick layers of metal of his body,

Then he felt a warm calloused hand on his shoulder, gently running up and down the ridges of his armor, that touch made him melt into a puddle of goo,

making him forget about the developing grudge against Kairo,

however he knew that wasn’t going to be the last time he would see him.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Several days had passed since you had booted Exo’s system up, and it was safe to say that the last days had been nothing but bliss,

it was like he was lying on cloud nine, he started to believe that he had been blessed by some force and sent you down, it was nothing less than euphoria.

You, however had to head into town, and Exo could never dream of making you go alone, never in a millennia would he allow that,

So he decided to accompany you, his large hand clasped around your own, your hand gently grabbing onto his pointer finger,

Exo kept a close eye on you, trying to sense of something was amiss, your heart beat seemed steady, your glucose was normal and your oxygen levels were okay,

he wished he could just carry you so you wouldn’t need to walk, he wouldn’t want to wear down your fragile bones!

but you refused his offer.. you said that you were ‘too old for that’, Exo really didn’t want you to be embarrassed, he decided to let this slide— for now.

his steps were heavy behind you, loud thumps being heard when his mechanical feet hit the ground,

you were pushing your cart through the dust and dirt, while Exo was carrying your backpack and money, who were comically small compared to his large and broad body,

you snickered to yourself as you looked back at him for a split second, he seemed to notice, suddenly his screen lit up, a blue heart blinking on the screen,

“a-ah..” he moaned out, tilting his head close to his right shoulder, you really wished you could understand the damn thing, but it seemed to be able to communicate through moans and exhales,

“Ya know I have zero idea what yer sayin’, right?” You sighed as you looked away, your cart wheels getting jammed on a rock out of nowhere,

it had you clicking your tongue as you bent down to pick the rock out of the old wheels,

the bot bent down to assist you, kneeling right next to you, there to help you if you needed anything,

“(Y/n)! What a coincidence! It has been a bit since we have last spoken, you aren’t running away from me are you?” The familiar voice of a certain admirer rang out from above you,

“hah? ‘Course not, You are my favorite person in this old dinky town..” you gave Kairo a crooked smile, dusting off your pants to face him fully,

his eyes softened, a gentle smile marking his plump lips, sometimes you really forgot how pretty Kairo was,

“..Y-You really think so..?” Aw shit, did you say that out loud? You nodded your head either way, an embarrassed flush warming your cheeks, Kairo put his hands on his face trying to hide the blush heating up his whole face, his hand gently extended out towards you,

Kairo was about to put his hand on your head, however his hand was stopped by a silver encased one, the mechanic fingers tightening around the Ginger’s arm,

“…” a certain chrome plated male stopped Kairo’s arm from going any further,

“..Huh. And who do you think you are?” Kairo retaliated, veins sprawling across his arm and porcelain face, an unnatural look to his other wise doll like appearance,

his glasses slipped down the slope of his nose, showing a pretty little bump on his upturned nose,

his thick brows furrowed, his pretty face twisted into a menacing scowl, his lively magenta eyes losing the shine they had when they met with your (e/c) eyes,

Exo on the other hand didn’t show a sliver of emotion, the screen visor he possessed didn’t show the emoticons he tends to show, instead a pitch black screen was shown,

Expo refused to utter a single sound, which was somehow more menacing than anything, fear instilled deep inside you, slimy tendrils of uncertainty and the urge to run pooling in your intestines,

“ha..haha— How about we calm down?” You suggested as calmly as you could, which was not very good since you were about to piss your pants,

You didn’t notice your hands shaking violently, your fingers and hands being unable to keep still, you were so distracted trying to tone down the situation you forgot about keeping calm yourself,

Both of the men turned to face you, noticing your shaken up state they seemed like they were about to stop,

the duo simultaneously reached out to you, trying to touch you, they seemed to have gotten distracted from their fight, however they were far from over,

“What the fuck do you think you are doing? Can’t you see she is scared? Tsk.. what a disgrace, to think you would care about a human being.. Touch her and I won’t hesitate to pull those cables out of your fucking head.” Kairo threatened, his hand balling into a fist

“…” the bot just stared at him, unresponsive.

This was your chance to book it out of here, a crowd of people were coming your way, you took advantage of their ‘moment’ to get away,

you blended into the streets, luckily you had a few silver coins on you, so you could hang out until Exo came to find you, which he always did,

you could apologize to Kairo later and spend some well deserved time with the ginger, not today though.

shit.. Did they team up to come after you? Because.. they aren’t where they were going when you looked back..

Is it just you or.. Are two people breathing down your neck?

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Hello! curious question, do you plan on continuing the "wet dream in your lap" series? because I'd love to see something with sub Dottore, although, I'll take anything, so ^_^

Wet Dream In Your Lap pt. 3 - Genshin Impact

Pairings: Dottore, Childe x reader (separately)

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom characters, somnophilia, clothed humping/grinding, choking (Childe), handjobs, characters are called by their real names (Zandik, Ajax)

Genre/Format: Smut; Scenarios

Author's Note: I did plan on continuing this a while ago, I couldn't think of which characters to include next though... Hope you enjoy this, anon!

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Oftentimes you serve as a personal assistant to the second harbinger, handing him whichever tools that he calls out, cleaning up said tools and wiping down the laboratory tables, taking notes during his countless experiments. Whatever he needed, you would be there to lend a hand or two

But you were also his partner and oftentimes you had to remind Dottore that he needed to rest. How is he ever going to take accurate notes from his projects if he's delirious?

Despite your partner's many begrudging protests, the soft snoring that emanated from his position in your lap proved that this sleep was much needed. Pointy teeth peeked through Dottore's lips while his head rested on your shoulder, facing towards you with his arms snaked around your neck. Your own arms were wrapped around the doctor's waist comfortably, holding him close while he slept

Half an hour passed by before Dottore's snoring gradually faded into another sound. You had begun to drift off as well when the noise pulled you back to the waking world. It was hard to tell what exactly this new noise was, but eventually it became clear. It was a whine. Your partner was whining— and beginning to grind against you in your lap

The doctor's hips rolled against yours as a lewd — and rather loud — moan escaped from his lips, leaving you to blush and squirm underneath him, well aware that if this continued on you would get hard and slowly give in to your desires...

“Ah...y/n...y-yes, harder...” Dottore mumbled against your neck, calling out for you in his dreams, no doubt. Does this mean that his dream involved...you? Specifically, did it involve you fucking him? Your answers soon became clear when the doctor's hands unconsciously tangled in the hair near the nape of your neck, thrusting his hips more vigorously than before as he chased some feeling that the 'you' in his dreams caused

It was impossible to ignore the aching, wet feeling in between your legs now. With every sharp thrust against your lap, your dick grew harder and leaked more precum into your underwear. And clearly, your partner had the same issue; tilting your head down a bit, you noticed the growing wet spot on his pants as well. Dottore's own cock had been leaking the whole time, spilling into his underwear as they became stained with his sleepy lust

Carefully, you slid one arm in between your bodies and undid his belt buckle, slipping your hand down the front of his pants and stroking over the wet fabric. The action elicited a gutteral moan from Dottore, who began bucking his hips immediately. His sleepy mind could barely process the new sense of pleasure being administered to his stiff cock, humping your hand like a desperate puppy as you teased him

Letting one of your own needy moans slip out, you maneuvered your hand again and pushed it fully into Dottore's underwear, grabbing his drooling dick and stroking the shaft. “Yes...yes...gods yes...mmm y/n...” Came the doctor's wanton cries as you jerked him off languidly, hissing once your thumb found his slit and teased at the hole. His hips greedily chased your hand, fucking into your tight fist as more whorish sounds were breathed against your neck

“Mmm...good boy, Zandik. Such a cute whore even in your sleep.” You said, clutching the back of his shirt with your other hand. Groaning at how good his dick felt in your hand; slick and veiny and incredibly sensitive underneath your touch

Dottore's hips stuttered before stiffening while his cum painted the front of your shirt, squirting on his shirt a bit too. He always came so much, a little quirk that you found attractive and often used to tease him whenever you milked load after load out of him

After your partner settled down a little you began to squirm again. Even though he came minutes ago, he hasn't stopped humping you yet. Dottore's dick was semi-hard within your hand and making the hottest noises as he continued to fuck up into your cum-coated fist...but you hadn't cum once and it was starting to hurt...your baby's hot breath fanned against your neck with every moan and cry of your name and it was driving you fucking crazy

Surely the doctor wouldn't mind if you let go of his cock long enough to slip yours inside? He would probably love it if you used his sticky cum as lube to finger his hole before you pushed your own thick shaft inside and bounced him on your cock...

It was no secret that the eleventh harbinger, Tartaglia, had boundless stamina. It's one of the reasons why most fatuus would sweat and stammer an excuse whenever the young man asked for a sparring match. That and his terrifying strength, that is...

You were one of the few people that could keep up with that stamina, somewhat... Today just so happened to be one of those days where your match lasted long enough to wear Childe out to the point of exhaustion. Swiftly falling asleep in your lap after you suggested a rest. His eyes fluttering shut as his head laid back onto your shoulder

The comfortable silence that fell over the secluded area that you had fought in was nice after such a fierce fight. Childe's steady breathing nearly lulled you into a lovely nap as well— until a breathy moan came out of him, anyways

Quirking a brow at the unexpected noise, you stared at Childe's face as it scrunched up, opening his mouth to moan again but this time bucking his hips into the air. It was obvious what was happening; your partner was having a wet dream. Calling out your name as his hands unconsciously searched for yours, grasping at them until you helped lace your fingers together. Childe turned his head to the side, now breathing against your neck and arching his back. “Unf...y/n pleeeassee...more, harder...aah– ”

The harbinger's slutty moans caused your dick to twitch, stiffening under him as his hips wiggled and humped the air with more frequency. His hands squeezed yours tighter as he bit back a groan, thrusting upwards one more time and then stilling. A dark wet spot made itself visible in the middle of his pants; he had cum. Your partner just creamed his pants in your lap

You were forced to bite back some sound of your own at the realization, involuntarily thrusting your own hips as you searched for any friction. Childe's lewd scene had you too worked up to ignore it, so you decided to fix the problem that he has created

Trying to go slow and not wake him up, you discarded your partner's pants and boots, leaving him naked from the waist down. You freed your cock from its constraints, growling as the wet head rubbed against your underwear on the way out. The way your member nestled in between Childe's soft cheeks sent a shudder through your body— swallowing dryly, you rubbed against his hole for a minute, teasing both of you before you pushed inside

It was tight... deliciously so. The head of your dick barely fit inside, but you pushed in harder until it popped in. The stretch was what woke the harbinger up, gasping as his eyes snapped open. The burn was immediately noticeable before Childe even figured out what was happening or remembered where he was. “Ah-aah! Ouch...what is– Hey...c-comrade?” He whined, gazing up at you with those beautiful, confused eyes

“Shh, you already came...now it's my turn–” You groaned as your cock pushed farther inside, dragging along your partner's impossibly tight walls. You snaked one hand up and wrapped it around his throat, squeezing tightly and said, “You were...fuck...were grinding on me...felt really good, hah- Mmm take that fucking cock, Ajax—!! ”

He had no choice (not that he would've chosen anything other than this) except taking your fat cock as you thrust up into him, bouncing him in your lap while your heavy panting filled his ears. Childe's hands are laid over yours, digging in harshly as he accepts his situation. Whimpering like a slut while you abuse his hole repeatedly. Not that the harbinger wasn't enjoying this, of course. The dumb smile on his face was proof that he was grateful for this outcome

Tartaglia's naughty dream earned him the kind of fast-paced, desperate fucking that he always begs for. In return, his hole clenched around your dick and he let every last moan and cry fall out of his whore mouth

“Yes, yes, yes...fu-uuuck!! Yesyesyesyesyes—!! ” Childe blurted out, moving his hands down to grab your thighs, using them as leverage to bounce himself and take more of your cock. You responded by choking him even harder, growling right into his ear while your dick pressed on his prostate, which caused your partner's eyes to cross

“Gonna cum, baby? Go on, cum for me. Slut. ” You teased, squeezing the base of Childe's dick before jerking him off. The way his voice goes up an octave and his moans become broken and pathetic signals his incoming release, begging as if his life was on the line while your cock drills his pretty ass

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseyeahyeahyeahyeaaaaaahhhh—!! Fuuuuck yeeeaaahh—!! ” The harbinger cried, sinking down on your dick as it filled him completely, his own cock spraying another round of cum onto the ground as you milked him fucking dry

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

[uplatterme]

a/n: did somebody say another writing style?? is this zandik? (idk). is this modern au? (idk). you can decide for yourselves really. dottie may not be a girl but he’s babygirl. therefore, onahole.

cw: sub!dottore, dom!reader (gn!terms,reader penetrates) | pwp, objectification, deepthroating (character!receiving), slight asphyxiation, crying, toys underneath clothes, humiliation, overstimulation, aphrodisiac, semi-public (why are there so many. i may have gone too wild, i fear.)

5 Important and Essential Steps To Remember Into Becoming the Perfect Onahole <3 (ft. Il Dottore)

1. Open Up! Nothing is too big. If you think it is, you’re simply not trying hard enough. Your throat is there for a reason!

Dottore’s in tears as he tries to take in your entire length, not even halfway. The edges of his mouth hurt, he can’t breathe, and worse of all, you’re judging him while he pathetically gags, saliva dripping all over his legs.

“Teeth, Dottore.” You say.

He sobs even more, the fact that he has to adjust and open up wider due to his sharp teeth is agonizing. He needs air, he wants to breathe deeper but he knows that’ll only mess things up, pulling you even deeper into his throat.

He uses his hand, pulling down his jaw. He can take you—he can—he can—he will!

Dottore practically almost faints once you’re all the way to his throat, he rolls his eyes, he can’t say anything or think at this point. His groaning is vibrating on your skin, if he tries to speak, he’ll die.

You drag your finger down his throat, you’re bulging, the soft skin barely doing anything to hide your curve.

“Such a perfect sleeve, my love.”

He can’t hear you anymore.

2. Always Be Ready! An onahole must always be ready for its owner’s use. Make sure you’re always lubed up and stretched out!

Dottore shudders as the vibrator shakes inside his walls, he wants to buckle over, it’s been so long since he’s taken it out. He wants to, but he can’t. What if you were to pull him away right now? He can’t be caught unprepared and dry! He has to please you after all.

His wetness damps his pants and he hastily tries to cover it with his laboratory gown. Each step ruins him, sending the vibrator even deeper. He breathes out his moans, it’s embarrassing. Climaxing due to walking like this in public? Dottore shivers as he thinks.

He needs a release, please. He begs silently, in whimpers, hoping that you were able to somehow magically hear them.

He has to assist himself on a wall, walking and finding somewhere he won’t be seen. The Doctor ends up in an alley, collapsing on his knees as he finishes, his legs shaking against one another. The vibrator ruthlessly pounds into him even after that, making him remember that he can’t turn it off. He trembles as he stands up, he can’t stay here.

Dottore licks his lips and smiles.

3. Be Quiet! As an onahole, you have no right to argue with your owner. Whether they fill you up or thrust ruthlessly, that is up to them!

Dottore’s body is limping as you keep pushing. He’s exhausted, how many hours…? The aphrodisiac has made it hard to tell.

His lab is ruined, secretions everywhere due to the different positions he has been in. Right now, he’s flipped over, unable to see your face, not even for comfort. He swallows down a cry, anybody could walk in right now. It’s been hours of gasping and panting, just so he avoids specific lewd noises that may come out of his mouth.

“W-When will we finish?” He asks.

“Be patient.”

Another vial is forced into his mouth. The immediate effects are already showing. His skin burns, touch him, please.

“Oh god…” He yearns.

He agreed to this, he tells himself. Still, he’s barely able to do anything except lay down on the laboratory table, on top of his very important studies, cumming all over them.

“S-Stomach’s full…I can’t—”

4. Stay Still! Where are you going? You aren’t done until your owner says so, silly! An onahole lets their holes be used in any way they want.

Dottore flushes in embarrassment. The bathroom stall had such a limited space, and yet he still grinds down on you. He silently cries, begging you to be done.

You don’t even bother to close the door. His reputation would be at risk here! He’s warm. When you called him here, he did not expect for such a thing to happen, and yet, here he is, bouncing up and down, liquids audibly mixing and painting his walls.

The toilet is clean and he may as well replace that instead with how much you’ve excreted into him. He does a far better job than that.

This is not for his pleasure, he allows his body to be used by you like this. Yet, he still wallows in it, as if it was him using you instead.

Dottore yelps once his body is pushed down by his waist. He chants out your name, pleading for no more due to how tired he is.

He hopes no one hears that.

Unfortunately for him, the sound of a toilet flushing follows.

5. Keep Practicing! In order to achieve perfection, you must have lots and lots of experience first. Once you’re confident in your skills, that’s when you can truly call yourself the perfect onahole.

Dottore’s insides have been carved out just for your shape. His body knows just what to do to please you.

Starting with his mouth, which can now open wide. Not gagging anymore as it’s filled to the brim. He uses his throat to his advantage, learning how he can effectively control it by studying the folds that move whenever he speaks. He still cries in pain, but he promises to do better next time! He’ll get there!

Then his thighs, you’ve used them so much to the point it feels as if nerves of pleasure have started to sprout there. His body arching just from a simple pinch of his skin. He can’t get enough of it.

Finally, his hole. Unclenching and clenching at the right rhythm, now knowing how to keep everything you give him inside, not letting a single drop spill. He can take you whole now, his guts having the pleasure to remember you well.

Such a perfect cocksleeve.

No matter how many times you’ve used him, it never gets old. Like every single time is perfect, a repeating cycle of pure pleasure for each of you.

Shit, you’re addicted.

[uwmspeccoll]

Typography Tuesday

Silver Buckle Press is a working museum of letterpress printing dedicated to preserving the craft of fine printing through its collection of presses, type, and publications, distinguished by an extensive range of wood type, display faces, and decorative ornaments. It was acquired by the University of Wisconsin Madison in 1973 and resided at the university's Memorial Library as a teaching laboratory until the retirement of its last director Tracy Honn in 2016, after which the press and its collections were transferred to Hamilton Wood Type & Printing Museum in Two Rivers Wisconsin under a long-term loan agreement with the museum.

Silver Buckle had a series of curator/director/printers in its 40+ years at UW, and in 1988, when the noted letterpress printer and book artist Barbara Tetenbaum was director, the press printed this Calendar of ornamental material from the collection of the Silver Buckle Press, designed, printed, and bound under the direction of Tetenbaum with the assistance of Marta Gomez, Tracy Honn, and Phyllis McGibbon in an edition of 65 copies signed by Tetenbaum.

The calendar features the Printers' Ornament Collection from the Silver Buckle collection, and each image was designed and hand set from a variety of decorative border fonts and hand printed on a Vandercook proofing press. Our copy is another donation from the estate of our friend Dennis Bayuzick.

View more posts on the Silver Buckle Press.

View more posts of type ornaments.

View more Typography Tuesday posts.

[silvercap]

if ur still taking prompts :3 “silent fury” but make it h/c? maybe one of leon’s boys goes on a “rampage” to save him orrr maybe someone is angry at the dso for almost killing him again or ya know whatever strikes your fancy

OHHHH I LIKE THIS!! (Prompts)

7. Silent Fury

Chris coughs frantically as the gas invades his lungs, throwing his oxygen-starved body at the sealed metal laboratory door with enough force that he can practically feel his shoulder bruising upon impact. Beside him, Leon sags against the wall with half-lidded eyes, gun hanging from limp fingers.

"Fight it," Chris chokes, but Leon's body has already succumbed, knees buckling beneath him as he collapses bodily to the floor and doesn't move again. Chris grits his teeth, ignoring another wave of dizzy lightheadedness in order to redouble his assault against the locked door. The room has no other exit, round and filled with glass tanks that Chris can't make out when his vision is blurring so badly but knows are filled with half-formed specimens suspended in bubbling liquid. The green glow makes him nauseous, casting the walls and his skin alike in eerie neon.

Chris throws himself into the wall with one last desperate effort and drops to his knees, heaving for air. His throat hurts from breathing in chemicals and god knows what else, muscles aching and spasming as it attacks his body. Leon doesn't move when Chris drops the rest of the way to lie beside him, weakening arms reaching out to scoop up the other man and pull his unconscious body close. Chris presses their foreheads together and blacks out an instant later.

-~-

When Leon wakes, it's to harsh light and a hand in his air, eyelashes fluttering as he struggles to make sense of the figures towering around him. An experimental shift reveals that his hands have been tied behind him, the hardness of a chair pressing into his back as his head is stretched backwards to expose his throat. He coughs.

"With us, again?" an accented voice drawls, one of the figures stalking towards him to reveal a tall man in militaristic clothes, a blade in his hand. Flinty eyes stare Leon down as he tries and fails to think of who this wannabe tough-guy could possibly be, the man's calloused fingers twining around the knife in a delicate way that reminds Leon of Krauser and his knife tricks---and tells him that the man knows how to handle it. He leans in close, drawing the sharp tip very gently down the curve of Leon's bottom lip. "We're very pleased to have you as our guests today, Mr. Kennedy."

He grins, letting the knife follow the natural line of Leon's jaw and down to a collarbone, where he presses into the skin just enough to make a bead of blood bubble between Leon's clavicles. Leon rolls his eyes. "Is this supposed to be scaring me? Get on with it, will you?"

The man laughs, standing upright. "It's not you that I'm trying to scare." He shifts away so that Leon can see past him into the dingy, cement-floored room he's been placed in---and the other chair several feet in front of his own, one Chris Redfield secured to it with rope around his wrists and ankles. There's blood on his temple, eyes blazing dark with silent rage that would be terrifying if only he weren't looking at Leon with such tender concern at the same time. Leon feels his blood run cold.

"Chris?" he calls. "Don't give them what they want. I'm trained for this, alright? Don't fucking tell---"

A hand grabs Leon's chin with force, a thumb shoved between his lips before he even registers what's happening. He thrashes, about to bite down, before a blow to the side of the face distracts him. Leon reels, attempting to kick one of his bound legs towards the large man who'd been brandishing the knife, but it's no use. He's the one holding Leon's jaw, a large wad of cloth in his other hand. It's all too easy for him to jam it hard into Leon's mouth, pushing so much fabric in that Leon, well, gags.

His eyes water as duct tape is wrapped far too tightly over his lips and around the back of his head, clinging to his cheeks and sparking a wave of panic at the claustrophobic feeling before he forces himself to exhale slowly through his nose. He's okay. He's faced worse. It's going to be---

"Lets begin," the man drawls, and plunges his blade deep into the flesh of Leon's thigh without warning.

Leon doesn't even try to hold back his cry.

He's not sure how long they torture him for, just that the world quickly goes foggy and distant with pain, shouting voices demanding things that Leon can't give. He can't see Chris through the hair that's fallen over his eyes as he lolls his head to his chest and heaves for breath, the wounds on his body, broken fingers, and ribs pulsing in time with his thundering heart. His cheekbone aches where a particularly nasty hook had split the skin, nose damp with blood that makes it even harder to breathe properly. The gag fills his mouth, saliva dampening the heavy fabric and muffling his pathetic whimper of pain as the man who's been beating the shit out of him offers one last slap to the side of the head.

Chris has been yelling incoherently for the past few minutes, but Leon can't hear his voice anymore. Maybe they gagged him, too.

"I'm tired of this, Redfield," the man says, a flash of metal the only warning Leon gets before the edge of his knife is up against Leon's throat, putting pressure on his trachea that makes him cough. The man digs in harder in response, the bright sting of Leon's skin splitting open on the blade's edge enough to make him wince. "Agree to the terms, or I cut his---"

There's a commotion that Leon can't make sense of, the blade leaving his throat so that he can suck in a relieved gasp of air. His eyelids flutter. Fuck, he's tired.

"Leon?" Leon can't open his eyes to see who's calling his name, the fear in their voice nearly tangible. They're talking fast, panicked. Chris, it has to be. Hands tug at the duct tape on his face, an effort that doesn't accomplish much more than wrenching Leon's aching neck. "Leon, don't do this to me. Leon? Open your eyes, Leon."

Pain spikes as Leon obeys, the harsh light upsetting the headache that had exploded into being three or four punches in. Chris's worried gaze appears before him, haloed in the glow.

"Good, that's it. Eyes on me, okay?" His voice is calm, collected, but Leon can hear that he's on the verge of tears, blood shivering down Chris's wrists as he carefully slices open the tape and peels it quickly from Leon's face. His hair is wild, eyes sharp with anger, but his touch is nothing but gentle. Even when Leon grimaces as his hair pulls free of its follicles, he's careful. "I've got you, I've got you."

Leon spits out the gag before Chris can even get to that point, the rag falling into his lap as he coughs and heaves for breath. He's dimly aware that he's trembling, but Leon's certain it's too small of a detail to notice. That is, until Chris pauses in his ministrations to run soothing hands up and down Leon's arms, leaning their foreheads together.

"It's okay. It's okay," he soothes, something dark stealing into his tone. "I took care of them. Let me deal with these cuts and I'll untie you, okay? I've got you."

Leon glances to his left and sees a growing pool of blood. He swallows, letting his eyes fall shut as Chris puts pressure on the deep gouge in his leg. "I trust you," he rasps, and means it.

[mariahryry]

Mariah and her cat 🐱

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 5

I hope ya'll enjoy :D please comment and reblog, it really helps out (i just want that juicy feedback babyyy)

Two pristine white suits stood in the doorway. The laboratory's glaring white light bared down from behind the two men, framing them in an uneasy, uncertain shadow. Despite being indoors, the agents wore cold sunglasses, and one would be forgiven for assuming they were permanent fixtures on their heads.

"Our deepest condolences, Mr Wayne." The so-called Agent K said. Bruce Wayne noted not the slightest hint of condolence or sympathy.

He considered himself an effortlessly logical person. Someone who got what needed to be done, done. Someone who push away fear and stress in order to chip through the walls and find a path to victory in any situation.

But now, as he stared at the pile of bloody and torn clothes laid on the examination table, a DNA test on the side showing MATCH in bold letters, Bruce found himself blanking for the first time in years.

The first time since Jason...

Damian's tracker had blinked its last only hours before, and Bruce hopped on the first boat he could procure and organised a search part, recruiting the help of the local and governmental siren hunters, not that he was not still suspicious, but man power was man power, and his son was on borrowed time.

Time that had to be paid back.

"We could not find a body, sir. Your son has likely been consumed by the sirens."

No body. None. And that was not for a lack of trying. Divers had scoured the ocean floor underneath vigilant patrols. Sonars echoed across the bay and surrounding reefs. Nothing, not hide or hair or even a bone.

Bruce needed to stay calm, to stay effortlessly logical. There was no way to confirm a death just by some bloody clothes and a lack of a body. He needed to find a way, the only way.

"Thank, gentlemen. I'm gonna need a moment alone. I'll be returning to my room." The crack in "Brucie's" voice was not fake.

When Bruce got back to his hotel room, its emptiness like poison to his eyes, he beelined to his laptop. There he opened the staticky and blurry video showing the moment of disaster.

Damian was on the boardwalk, taking a moment for himself to get away from the hustle and bustle of yet another vapid party. All he wanted out of this trip was to see the fish...

An explosion rocked the boardwalk, sending splinters flying. The camera blurred into static. All that could be made out was a hand grabbing onto Damian's foot and pulling him under. The feed cut out.

Bruce played the recording again, and again, and again. Just like he had been doing all day. It was so blurry he couldn't even identify the colour of the hand.

Each time, his heart broke a little more. A tear came closer and closer to tearing its way out behind the barrier he'd put around his heart. The barrier these damn kids have wormed through over time.

Bruce dialed the phone. It answered on the first ring. "Dick, gather the family. I have some bad news..."

Danny buckled the last belt in his collection around his tail. Funny thing about belts, is that they're still useful even if you aren't wearing pants. The Fenton waterproof torch, the Fenton Stinger, Fenton Lipstick Laser among several other greatest hits slotted neatly into the loops of his belts along his tail. All he needed was a jacket and he might have a biker aesthetic to rival Johnny's.

Damian had spent the past hour or so pacing back and forth, trying to get a hang of his fins and occasionally bumping into a wall. Kid was itching to go out, and had taken to waving the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick around at imaginary enemies, despite having complained about the "inelegance of such a crude weapon."

"You will know suffering." He muttered. "I will make you beg for deliverance." He scowled.

Maybe Danny should introduce him to Sam. He feels like they'd get on like a house on fire.

Damian clung to his shoulder again, little arms wrapped around his neck for purchase as he swam out the cave. The Anti-Creep stick sat comfortably in a holster wrapped round the kid's waist with a knot Danny had to retie six times because he was so small. It was mid afternoon and the sun bathed the reef in bright colours like a warm blanket.

"We should keep an eye out for any other weapons. Our current stock is not enough."

Danny snorted. "You sound like a serial killer talking like that, you know?"

"I am more dangerous than a serial killer." Damian huffed. Danny could feel the offence radiating off him. To think that a himbo like Bruce Wayne could spawn someone with this many sticks up his ass. "And more intimidating."

"Please threaten me more. I'm shaking in my non-existent boots."

Damian growled. A deep guttural sound that rumbled his chest and tickled Danny's scales. Well, it would've been deep if Damian weren't half Danny's size.

"Where is your map and compass? How are we to get to Panama without navigation equipment?"

"Relaaax! We don't need a map because I've got a little something called celestial navigation." See Sam and Tuck? His space obsession was useful in his siren life!

The smaller siren head sank and banged on Danny's. "It is broad daylight."

Danny grinned over his shoulder. "Yeah that was a joke."

Damian screeched.

Danny laughed as he surfaced and got himself some fresh air. Calm waters for miles around them. Slowly he kicked off the swim, building up speed. "Relaaaax. It doesn't take a genius to figure out we need to go south."

"The only reason I have allowed you to live is because you are my only way home."

"As if I couldn't literally sit on you and you'd be helpless."

"I should invite you to try!"

Thousands of miles of blue ocean stretched on in every direction Damian looked. Below the two of them, the ocean floor lay deep enough that all Damian could see was a blur. Just above, the surface of the water rippling from slow winds blazes past. Phantom's strength lets them cut through the water at breakneck pace. The water rushing past his ears and fins reminds him of flying with Jon, if only much thicker than air in the upper-atmosphere.

Light from above, and unending darkness below. It was the darkness that Damian focused on. Occasionally, a tingle spread down his back and through his tail, like a warning, only for nothing to be visible underneath. The first few times, he shivered from surprise. Then it just unnerved him.

He'd read about lateral lines on sharks and other fish before, as a curiosity. Never had he imagined he would come to possess one himself, and never that it would feel so natural that it was difficult to parse it out from all his other sensations. The idea of not feeling this new sensation felt foreign, and unnerving, even though this form was the foreign one.

He would never admit this to anyone, but he didn't know much longer he could deny the creeping feeling on his neck. For all Phantom appeared friendly, Damian knew nothing of his motivations, or even his true character. If Phantom decided he didn't want anything to do with Damian, then what? With no weapons save a measly baseball bat, no contact with the outside world, no armour, no legs, no support and no knowledge of how to survive, he would be good as shark meat.

Damian tightened his grip on Phantom's neck. He was supposed to be above fear, and yet why was his heart pounding so hard?

A series of fast clicking echoed from the distance. Damian jerked his head to the left. Through squinted eyes hie made out long slender forms swimming parallel, their tails undulating up and down.

"Are those dolphins?" Damian muttered.

Phantom turned to the same sight, and raised his eyebrows. "Huh, I guess they are-" Damian jerked Phantom to their direction.

"We must approach them immediately!"

Phantom's body almost tumbled out of his normal swimming rhythm from the shock. "What? What for?"

"We must! The only reason I agreed to come to Amity Island was to see the sea creatures."

"Dude, you know dolphins can be total assho-" But Damian was having none of it. To solidify his point, he clamped his teeth into Phantom's shoulder, focusing them on the part where bone jutted out. Even if they couldn't penetrate, the blunt force against bone would be very painful.

"YOUCH Alright alright alright alright can you please stop biting me!"

Phantom rerouted their course, and Damian chittered in satisfaction. "Excellent."

The dolphins were as beautiful and majestic as he could have ever imagined. It was a small pod, comprising of about five adults, all swimming together in stunning synchrony. Phantom swam at a cautious distance, close enough to admire but too far to touch. How he longed to pet a dolphin... Even Damian slapping him with his tail could only move him an inch closer.

"Dude, I've dealt with dolphins before, and they're literally the most evil beings on the planet, right next to toast and Vlad."

Damian huffed. If only he had a camera on him. To swim alongside dolphins at top speed, out in the wild... He was pretty sure he was drooling, or would have been.

He'd just have to commit the scene to memory, and paint it when he got home.

The thought of home made his fins droop a little.

He felt a finger poking at his cheek. "Hey Damian, you ok? Fine, I'll give like two inches, but that's it."

Damian snappes teeth at him. "I am perfectly fine. Just thinking."

Before Phantom could get closer, Damian saw one member of the pod swerve right for them. Instinctively, he ducked, only for the dolphin to somersault overhead, twirling three times before 'landing' right of them. Two more of its podmates followed suit as they danced in circles around them. One of them came so close he could even catch its scent. It smelled tangy, like freedom and excitement.

Seeing dolphins performing manoeuvres at aquariums was one thing, sitting in dries seats what felt like half a world away from the water, but here? Damian felt the water stolen from right out of his gills.

And the best part was rubbing it in to Phantom. "What was that you said while disparaging these beautiful creatures?"

"Dude, don't these guys smell weird to you?" Even now he was suspicious? The dolphins smelled perfectly fine.

"Not in the slightest. I believe you are just trying to save face."

"Dude, I've seen dolphins before. Plenty of them, but none of them smelled this.. familiar."

Then again, now that Phantom mentions it, those moves seemed just a bit too disciplined for a wild animal. Just a bit too measured...

Damian's hackles spiked up. They were surrounded.

"Phantom, get us out of-"

Deafening squeals blasted from every direction. The noise was so horrible Damian could barely see. His ear fins felt like cracked glass. His field of view was getting darker. They were sinking.

Phantom moved Damian so he was flat against his chest and curled up. The boys crash landed into the barren sea floor. Pain erupted from every surface as debris and particles tore scales and broke fins. Phantom's screaming mixed into the water with teal blood. He held onto Damian like a vice the entire time.

They finally came to a stop. Damian's head spun and spun and his ears rang. He dimly noted the criss-crossing ropes of a fishing net entrapping them. Above him, the blasted dolphins loomed over them in circles like they were sharks, and in the centre floated a man in a large metal suit, a metal suit sporting a malicious, leopardlike grin, a grin that for a moment he could not place, until his mind cleared.

That was the last thing he ever had ever seen as a human.

[musictyme]

Mariah the Scientist - Spread Thin

[lovelythief]

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋

𝚕𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟷𝟿

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚋, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎.

Not the gentle whir of the automatic centrifuge nor the soft scratching of pen on paper were enough to cover the light footsteps that carefully approaches you from behind. You smile, but don’t turn from your messy notebook.

You always preferred the peaceful isolation of the late-night laboratory, being able to freely work on personal research projects without having to bump past coworkers or being interrupted by higher ups searching for answers. Still, you don’t necessarily mind this certain distraction.

“Working late again, sunshine?” Leon’s soft words send a shiver up your spine as he rests his head on your shoulder, sliding up and fitting himself naturally against your back, lazily draping his arms around your waist. You wonder how much of your notes he understands—if he can read your handwriting at all, that is. Probably quite a bit; he’s always been a smart rookie.

You hum, but still don’t look at his pretty face, lest it distract you too much in this rare peace. The view of his soft bangs and button nose from your peripheral are enough to have your heart skip a beat anyways. “No rest for the wicked,” you say. “I’m surprised you haven’t gone home yet.”

“Can’t be that surprised; we both practically live here anyways.” Leon huffs dramatically, dragging his fingers across your stomach and squeezing his arms around you in an attempt to rile up some sort of reaction from you.

You should’ve seen it coming, leaving yourself open and vulnerable like that.

You whine his name, affectionate and light as he pulls an uncontrollable laugh from your lips and you nearly crumple back in his embrace. You breathe heavily for a moment and your cheeks flush red with realization. The centrifuge clicks off as you stand in silence.

Leon’s stunned expression definitely matches your own shock.

“Sweetheart…” he starts, but words fail him for a moment as he bares his teeth between a wolfish grin. “You never told me you’re ticklish.”

You swallow, looking at the mirth growing in Leon’s blue eyes and realizing very suddenly how fucked you are, trapped between a man with a very obvious idea and the sturdy countertop. “Leon Kennedy,” you stammer, hands gripping your notebook tightly, “you wouldn’t.”

Leon smiles into your shoulder. “Guess all these late shifts keeping you from me are starting to pay off,” he says. He gently loosens his arms from your waist, watching your subtle expressions and feeling you shift against him with the intensity of a trained hawk.

“Leon—!”

You can’t even finish getting his name out before you squeal like a child, feeling the rough pads of his fingers through layers of clothes as he tickles you mercilessly, pulling laugh after laugh from your pretty lips. Even light strokes has your stomach tensing.

He says your name in the same tone, laughing alongside you.

You drop the notebook on the table as your hands scramble to grasp at his wrists, but you’re not nearly strong enough to pull them away from your vulnerable sides. Your knees buckle and laughter turns breathy as you lean into your cheeky boyfriend while he keeps you giggling in the palms of his hands.

Your eyes water, chest burns, and legs shake. “W-Wait, I—I can’t,” you beg between gasps, “stop, Le—on!”

He stops almost immediately, realizing that maybe mercilessly tickling his partner wasn’t the smartest idea. “Fuckin’ adorable,” Leon coos, peppering kisses on your hot cheeks and holding you tightly against his chest while you rest limply against him.

You heave a sigh, grateful for the way the air fills your lungs again. “This is why,” you take a large breath, “I didn’t tell you I was ticklish!”

“Not bad for your first time,” he says. The innuendo isn’t lost on you, and you pinch his skin with the blunt edges of your nails until he starts mumbling ow, ow, ow and pulling his arm away.

“Cheeky bastard, coming in here and making a mess of me—“

“—yeah, yeah, ‘m sorry.” Leon noses your neck and gently sways you.

You relax a little when you sees his smile, but can’t help yourself from teasing him a little more. “You’re awful,” you pout, “absolutely the worst.”

“Mm, I love you too.”

“Ugh.”

“I’ll tickle the attitude out of you if I have to.”

“You—!”

[captainremmington-13]

A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova and her father. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.

SUMMARY: Bellova gets her revenge, but also comes to a heart-wrenching realization.

Warnings: spoilers for TBOSAS, a good amount of angst

A/n: Buckle up y’all ;) Also, I recommend listening to Vigilante Shit, I Did Something Bad, and/or get him back! while reading this chapter.

“Come in.”

Bellova opened the door to Dean Highbottom’s office, swiftly shutting it behind her. 

“Ah, Miss Reginelle,” he said, setting down his papers. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be celebrating with the rest of the students?”

She smiled dryly. “I’ve come to speak with you about a very important matter. I believe that the integrity of the Games have been tainted by cheating.”

He raised an eyebrow, folding his hands on his desk. “Go on.”

Bellova walked towards him, making sure to maintain her flawless posture and calm expression. “I know for a fact that Coriolanus Snow visited Dr. Gaul’s laboratory right before the snake mutations were released to attack the tributes. And I am almost certain that they were held there before being sent to the arena.”

Dean Highbottom nodded. “They were indeed.”

“See, being one of Dr. Gaul’s most favored students, she had discussed this particular breed of mutated snakes with me before. She told me that they would not attack any being who’s scent they have been introduced to before. Because of his…conveniently timed visit to her office, I believe Coriolanus slipped something with Lucy Gray’s scent into the snake enclosure before they were sent off. That is why she was able to survive their attack.” 

There was silence for a moment as the dean processed her accusation.

“I see,” he said. “I will look into it, for you have given me plausible reasoning to investigate. Is there anything else you think I should know?”

Bellova grinned. 

‘Sorry, Coryo,’ she thought. ‘Say goodbye to your temporary glory.’ 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Coriolanus was puzzled when he was torn away from the celebration and told to report to Dr. Gaul’s lab to meet Dean Highbottom. Perhaps the idiotic old man had finally come to his senses and wanted to apologize for his constant harassment. 

As he walked through the Academy accompanied by two Peacekeepers, he smiled at the thought of the dean begging for forgiveness. How he would love to see him grovel like a pathetic fool.

Then, he heard footsteps up ahead. Bellova was walking towards him, her ruby-red lips curled into a cruel smile.

As she passed by him, she murmured something so quietly that Coriolanus almost missed it. But when he processed what she’d said, he knew he’d never forget it.

“I hope you know you brought this on yourself.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Bellova arrived home, she went straight to her room. She felt nauseous and dizzy, climbing up the grand staircase clumsily and almost slipping several times. She stumbled into her bedroom, and collapsed onto her luxurious canopy bed. 

The full weight of what she’d done hit her like a pile of bricks. 

She ruined Coriolanus’s life. 

He would never recover from this. Who knows where he’s end up? Maybe in prison, maybe an Avox if Highbottom was harsh enough, or maybe somewhere in one of the least powerful districts. Either way, she was sure he would never set foot in the Capitol again.

Maybe she should’ve waited a few days before going to Highbottom to expose him. It was hasty to snitch on him right away, but at the time, it felt right. But now, she wasn’t so sure.

She buried her face in her crimson red pillow, resisting the urge to scream. 

Why had Coriolanus done what he had done? He was never sympathetic towards the districts like Sejanus Plinth. What made Lucy Gray so special? She was just another district animal, and yet Coriolanus had done everything in his power to ensure her survival. She knew he wanted to win the Plinth Prize, which required that the recipient was the mentor of the winning tribute, but stooping as low as cheating? It was such a desperate move that Bellova briefly wondered if he had gone mad.

‘No,’ she thought. ‘Not mad. Utterly insane.’ 

As the hours passed, she slowly came to accept the truth: 

Coriolanus Snow had fallen in love with Lucy Gray Baird. 

A single tear slipped down her cheek. There was a stabbing pain in her chest, which grew worse as she began to sob. 

What did a no-name district runt have that she, a Capitol heiress, did not? 

What made him fall in love with her instead?

There was no use in continuing to lie to herself, not with him gone forever. 

She loved Coriolanus Snow. 

She always had. And she thought he would eventually grow to love her too. But she was foolish to believe that. It was childish to believe they were meant for each other.

Her miserable thoughts were interrupted when someone knocked on her door gently. Hastily wiping her tears and fixing her messy hair, she croaked, “Come in.”

She expected it to be her maid, or maybe even one of her friends. Instead, her father walked through the door, holding a tray that held her favorite foods. 

Bellova instantly burst into tears again. 

Julio Reginelle frowned as he saw his normally composed daughter shaking, her knees pulled to her chest. “I heard that you haven’t emerged from your room since arriving home. What happened?”

He placed the tray on her bedside table and sat at the foot of her bed. 

She sniffled. “I don’t know if I should tell you. You’ll be angry at me.” 

He placed a hand on her shoulder gently. “I promise I won’t. It is more important for you to be honest with me.”

Bellova internally winced at the thought of discussing feelings of love with her father. Especially because of exactly who she loved. 

Her father raised an eyebrow, gesturing for her to speak. 

With a trembling voice, she confessed what had happened earlier that day. She told him how she’d turned Coriolanus in to the dean, therefore ruining his future career and aspirations. Finally, she told him about her recently realized romantic feelings towards the young Snow heir. 

Her father sighed. “I am not angry at you, Bellova. You are a young woman, feelings are inevitable. I can see why you are angry Coriolanus. He chose someone over you.” She nodded. “And I’m sorry to say this, but no-one with the surname Snow should ever be trusted. His father was a snake too.”

Bellova cocked her head. “How so?”

“Crassus was an arrogant, overconfident fool. He was the most insufferable student at the Academy while we were attending together. If he didn’t have the top score on something, we would hear about it for weeks on end.”

Bellova laughed. That sounded just like Coriolanus. 

“And…” her father paused. “He was the original creator of the Hunger Games.”

Her mouth fell open. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. Casca Highbottom was distraught when Crassus, his closest friend at the time, took his drunken joke to Dr. Gaul, who embraced the idea immediately. Casca never forgave Crassus, and their friendship was destroyed.”

“How do you know about this? This has got to be one of the most well-kept secrets in Panem.”

Her father gave her a wry smile. “I overheard Crassus bragging about it to his eventual wife. She didn’t seem pleased, but never spoke up against it. I think she was too afraid to.”

Bellova grimaced. She would never let any future husband of hers walk all over her in that way.

“Now, as for you turning Snow in, you did the right thing. Cheating should never go unpunished, especially in something as important as the Hunger Games.”

Bellova leaned back against her pillows. “I know. But in telling the dean, I’ve sent him away forever. I’ll never see him again.”

Her father hummed. “Maybe that’s for the better.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s out of your life now. You can focus on other things: your career, your friends, your other aspirations. He will never be a hindrance to you again.”

Bellova sighed. “You’re right. There’s more to life than a pathetic boy who gave up his future for a district girl.”

Her father smiled. “Exactly right.” He looked over at the tray of food. “Please make sure to eat tonight, you’ll need your strength for tomorrow. I’m permitting you to skip school, because I plan to bring you with me to a conference in the Jubilee Convention Center.”

Bellova smiled. “That sounds lovely, thank you.” 

He stood up, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll leave you to rest now, my dear. Sweet dreams.” 

As soon as her father left, she placed the tray on her lap and began to eat. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until right then. 

After a relaxing evening of self-care, Bellova laid in bed, staring up at her chandelier that twinkled in the moonlight. 

Her love for Coriolanus would die eventually, she was sure of it. It was already starting to fade, slowly being replaced by contempt. He really wasn’t good enough for her. He was no real gentlemen, despite him parading around pretending to be one with his roses and faux charming smile. And he was too sensitive to make it in the world of politics. Sure, he put up a cold facade, but she knew that hurtful words got under his skin easily. 

No matter how handsome or intelligent he was, he’d never be a good match for her. If they were ever to marry, they would fight far too often, and ultimately, it would be a failure. 

Bellova closed her eyes, pulling her soft covers over her body and finally allowing herself to truly relax.

As she slipped into sleep, a quote from one of her favorite novels crossed her mind, making her smile.

“It is snow’s destiny to fall: that is what it is made for.” 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! This is the end of Part 1, but there will be at least two more parts in the series! Stay tuned for the first installation of Part 2!

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!