#enhanced senses yes… strength ? yes …

[fortifice]

oh god I’m having vampire / monster hunter au thoughts again.

the landau having done “dangerous” experimentations with utilising diluted / mixed blood of the monsters they hunt as strength enhancements. very measured doses but also does come with a number of negative side effects. this is one of the reasons his father is eager to have him bring serval back because both of them are essential subjects to this trial and error process.

[eternalsunrise]

home, sweet home.

wolverine (logan howlett) x f!reader

wc: 980 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, no actual smut but super suggestive and gets graphic toward the end

notes! horny . but also v sweet. i pictured origins logan while writing this 💋

“if you keep moving i’m going to start slicing you up on purpose” your threat is empty, wrist away from his face completely, razor pointed the opposite direction. even with his regenerative abilities, you don’t want to hurt him, even if it’s just an accidental cut on his jaw.

logan was fully capable of doing this himself. after all, he’d been shaving his own face for decades upon decades. but there was no way he was going to pass up this opportunity.

he came through the front door after a two week long mission, scruffier than he was when he left. his mutton chops curling up at the tips of his jawline, mustache just long enough to tickle your face. he’d forgotten to pack his razor, and he’d rather use his own claws than use scott’s, or even worse, hank’s.

you were on him as soon as he walked in, leeched to his body, your hands everywhere. it had been too long since the wolverine breathed you in like this, his enhanced senses overstimulated in the best way. you ran your hand over his scratchy cheek, inquiring about his new look. he told you he was planning on cleaning it up but was exhausted. that’s when you offered.

now he’s sat on the toliet seat, and maybe he’s enjoying the view of you on his lap a little too much. he lifted his hips, bouncing you lightly on his legs.

“hm. relax princess, jus’ adjusting.” logan gives you a teasing smile, basking in the bliss he only feels in your presence. your eyes narrow in faux disdain, it’s hard to be frustrated at a guy with shaving cream covering his face. you grab one of his feline quips of hair, using it to tilt his head to finish the task at hand.

“i’m going with you next time, i can’t have you walking around like a caveman.” i missed you more than i can say.

ever the man, the image of you in an x-men suit pops into his brain, the leather hugging your body just right. the thought brings a smirk to his face, but it fades when he hears your sigh. right, no moving.

“yes ma’am. i’ll call the professor and let him know.” i missed you too. felt like i was never going to come back to you.

you lean your body over to rinse the razor off in the sink, logan’s large hands on your thighs keeping you steady. the metal clinks against the porcelain of the sink, shaving cream and dark hair going down the drain.

when you look back, you see your boyfriend in place of the lumberjack that walked in earlier. still scruffy and masculine, after all he is still the wolverine.

logan lifts his hips again, shifting backwards and forcing you to fall against him, razor clattering out of your hand. “whoops” his deep voice carries no sympathy, chocolate eyes locking with yours, giving you that love struck look that makes your stomach turn. the kind of look he saves just for you.

your chests are touching, the closeness sets your whole body ablaze. it’s been too long since you’ve got to soak him up like this. the smell of him makes your head swim; leather, cheap cigar smoke, and that cologne you bought him a few months back.

logan sneaks his hands under his brown flannel button up you’re wearing, delighted to be met by the bare skin of your hips. the metal of his belt buckle is cold against the bottom of your stomach, causing a gasp to leave you.

as he admires you now; sitting pretty in his lap in only his shirt, logan wonders how he had the strength to leave you in the first place.

hands wander over his freshly shaved face, stubble like soft needles against your fingertips. your head has a mind of its own, and suddenly your lips are brushing his. once. twice. a third time. soft and slow.

there’s something new in the air now. your heart is pounding, and you wonder if he can feel it beating through your chest and into his own. there’s a split second of silent eye contact before logan lurches forward.

there’s hunger behind his kiss. a certain lust behind his tongue making its way to yours. your hips swivel in search of friction. hands tangled in his hair, pulling in a way that’s so familiar it makes logan groan into your mouth; already aware of what tonight will bring.

his hands are traveling up your his shirt, rough fingers just barely making contact with your breasts. his touch lights you on fire, forcing you to break apart, head tilting back in a whimper.

logan takes that as his cue, and suddenly you’re in the air. one of his hands on your lower back securing you to him, the other cradling the underside of your knee.

you latch your other leg behind his waist as he walks out of the bathroom. your lips reconnected, eager to make up for the lost time.

you recognize the softness of your mattress against your back as logan lies you down gently. his mouth continues its assault, a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and side of your throat. he can feel your pulse drumming frantically under his lips, and he has to bite back a smirk at the effect he seemed to have on you.

your reaching your hands down to unclasp his belt when….ring. ring. ring. you feel the vibration against his pants and you think you might die if you have to stop right now.

you both pause in your actions. logan let out a gruff “you gotta be jokin’” as he stands up straight, leaving you lying on the bed.

he pulls his phone from his pocket, eyeing the caller id, scott summers. he’d been the third member of the x-men to try and get ahold of him. fuck can’t a guy have a day off?

he looks away from the phone, shifting his eyes to you. you’re sprawled beautifully on the bed. hair fanned around your head, cheeks flushed red with a devious smile to match. his eyes follow your body down to your legs. they’re spread wide for him, and he watches in shock as you let a hand slide between your thighs, swirling a couple slow circles on your clit through soaked panties.

you throw your head back and call his name, and that’s enough for him. logan tosses his phone over his shoulder, leaning down and crawling in between your legs.

“they’re gonna have to come pry me from this fucking bed, doll. i’m not goin’ nowhere.”

god it was good to be home.

[the-shinysnorlax]

A semi-professional study on Miguel O’Haras powers

Miguel has a lot of silly powers, so here’s a little study of what they can do, the weaknesses, and so on. His powers are what interested me into his character in the first place, and I’m hoping this will allow for others to get more into him as well!

1. Talons

First off I want to clarify that yes, Miguel has talons on both his hands AND feet. They’re on the tips of his fingers and toes! (NOT fingernails or part of the suit!)

Should also mention that these talons are what Miguel uses to climb. He doesn’t have the sticky powers Peter has. He has to dig his talons in to climb.

But more importantly, we actually don’t know what Miguel’s talons are made out of. I’ve seen multiple different answers to this like hardened skin or keratin (Me personally I think it’s hardened skin).

Also Miguel CANNOT harm himself with his talons! They automatically fold up when they touch his skin!

Last important part about his talons is that he can’t seathe them! He “folds” them by his fingers.

This requires pretty much 24/7 concentration in his brain at all times, so when he’s distracted he can very easily pop up the talons

2. Fangs

After ATSV it’s pretty much common knowledge that Miguel has fangs. But one thing the movie got wrong is Miguel can’t seathe or “hide” his fangs, at least not very easily.

Miguel’s fangs are quite large, so much so that he has a slight speech impediment as a result.

Also the fangs have a venom inside of them! The venom DOES NOT kill and only temporarily paralyzes the victim. Miguel rarely bites people and it’s more often than not a last resort (We only see him do it like 4 times in the comics ever)

3. Other random powers

This doesn’t really have a theme, his talons and fangs are his big 2 powers but I do want to mention some of his other abilities!

-Miguel does not have a spidersense! He can’t sense when enemies are coming from behind him! He DOES however have enhanced eyesight which can cause him to locate stuff from far away!

This unfortunately comes at the cost of having extreme light sensitivity, if you see comics Miguel wear sunglasses constantly that’s why! Without them his eyes would be extremely sensitive to light. (Also his eyes are red as well because of this!)

-Miguel has NATURAL webbing! I know in Spiderverse he doesn’t but in the comics he has spinnerets in his wrists! They were actually the last of his powers to come in (Probably because a lot of muscle had to be moved around)

We don’t know if Miguel can actually run out of webbing, I would say it’s possible but unlikely. The spinnerets can hold a lot of storage!

-Miguel’s DNA is confirmed 50% spider so yes. Miguel is not fully human.

-Some other power’s Miguel has include: Enhanced reflexes (Probably even moreso than normal Spider-Man) and the other generic powers that come with being a superhero like enhanced strength, speed, and durability.

Miguel might also have super healing? I can’t 100% confirm on that but I wouldn’t be shocked if he does.

[theoccultmoon]

Herbal Allies: A Beginner's Guide ☪

When we think of herbal magick, it’s easy to picture exotic, hard-to-find ingredients mugwort from a far-off land or frankincense gathered from ancient trees. But the truth is, magick can be found in the plants right outside your door. Today, we’ll talk about how to build a connection with these everyday allies and use them to deepen your practice. 

Start by Observing ☼

Magick begins with awareness. Spend time outside or with the plants in your home, whether it’s a sprawling garden, a single potted herb, or wild plants in a nearby park. 

Observe their growth patterns, textures, and how they react to light, water, and your touch. Does the plant feel vibrant, slow, or protective? Each plant carries a unique energy signature, and tuning in will help you sense its magickal potential. Keep a journal of your observations note how the plant changes with the seasons, any interactions you have with it, or simply what draws you to it. 

The Energy of Everyday Plants ✧₊⁺

 You don’t need rare herbs to create powerful magick. Common plants like dandelions, clover, or even rosemary from your kitchen hold immense potential: 

Dandelions: Resilience and adaptability, great for spells focusing on strength or new beginnings. 

Clover: Traditionally linked with luck and protection. 

Rosemary: A kitchen staple for cleansing, memory, and energetic protection. 

Take time to explore the plants in your environment. Look up their traditional uses in folklore or magickal practices. You might be surprised by the treasures growing in your own backyard. 

 Communicating with Plants୨ৎ 

Plants are living beings, and connecting with them on a spiritual level can enrich your practice. Here are a few ways to establish a relationship: 

⟡Meditate near the plant: Sit quietly and focus on its energy. How does it feel to you calm, vibrant, or grounding? 

⟡Touch and listen: Gently hold a leaf or flower and see if you can sense any shifts in your energy. 

⟡Speak to the plant: Thank it for its presence and offer it water or compost as a gesture of gratitude. 

Ask for guidance or permission: If you’re harvesting a leaf or flower, always ask permission. You may feel a sense of “yes” or “no” in your intuition honor it. The more you engage with a plant, the more its energy will resonate with yours. 

Using Herbal Allies in Magick✧˚ · . 

Once you’ve built a connection, there are countless ways to work with plants in your magickal practice, I'll leave here some examples: 

⟡Herbal Sachets: Combine leaves or flowers in a small pouch for protection, love, or prosperity. 

⟡Offerings: Use a sprig of rosemary or a handful of clover as a symbolic offering to your deities or spirits. 

⟡Sigil Crafting: Press a flower or leaf and use it to decorate or enhance your sigils. 

⟡Teas and Infusions: Brew plants like mint, chamomile, or lavender for relaxation and spiritual focus. 

Always harvest respectfully never take more than you need, and leave enough for the plant to thrive. 

Building a Relationship Takes Time ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

Working with herbal allies isn’t just a one-time act. It’s a relationship. The more you engage with a plant, the deeper your understanding of its energy will grow. 

Take time to learn the folklore or history behind the plants you’re drawn to. Document your experiences in an “herbal grimoire,” where you can record their uses, personal observations, and any spells you’ve created with them. 

Herbal allies don’t have to be rare or expensive. The plants around you whether in a garden, a park, or your own kitchen are full of magick, waiting to be discovered. Take time to connect, listen, and learn from them. 

Have you worked with local plants in your practice? Share your favorite herbal allies and their stories I’d love to hear them! (:

[agustdiv1ne]

𖤐⋆°·.3:13 a.m. (m) — choi beomgyu

genre: smսt (mdni! ageless blogs dni!!), vampire boyfriend!beomgyu, fem!human!reader, mc gets her period, oral (f receiving), bloodplay (ig), i would say i'm sorry but i'm not <3

wc: 3.2k

beomgyu awakes to the smell of blood flooding his nostrils.

bleary eyes snap open as he shakes himself from his suspended state of consciousness, only for him to squint at the glaring crimson numbers of the alarm clock sitting upon the nightstand. it's terribly early. early enough that the stars still glitter against the sable background of the sky outside, early enough that this particular bedroom of his manor remains bathed in darkness. the dimness of the room, however, proves to be no issue for beomgyu's enhanced sight; he watches as your chest rises and falls in steady succession, your sleeping form blissfully unaware of his current predicament. 

oh god, it's you. the blood is yours. the sweet, saliva-inducing perfume of the crimson ichor overwhelms your typically clean, subtle scent; and yet according to his keen senses, the aroma is richer this time, somehow. more potent — he has not smelt anything as addicting in decades. it makes it all the easier for him to want to give into the primal urge to absolutely devour you, to feed and feed and fucking feed from your pretty little neck until he’s sated and you’re halfway brainless. with a jerky shake of his head, he pushes those instincts swirling in his chest into a dark corner of his mind. he’d never feed from you without your permission. he’s not like that; no, he’s not like his former coven that would hunt defenseless humans like you for sport, taking turns drinking from the victim’s body until their veins ran dry. no, he is far from being like them. he loves you, and he’d never do anything that could hurt you.

another wave of sweet iron wafts into his nose, and he exhales sharply, sitting up against the headboard. shit, he really should leave. he should run far away until he can no longer smell you, but he remains frozen in place. sitting there, he takes in how you begin to curl in on yourself, your brows furrowing as if you're in pain. the sight snaps him out of his bloodlust-induced daze, blinking hard when you groan and turn away from him on the bed, your arms wrapped around your midsection — cramps. you’re cramping.

blood, cramping…oh, beomgyu realizes, your period must have started.

the two of you are typically more careful than this, tracking your cycle and ensuring that he is far, far away when it inevitably does hit you. perhaps you’ve both become too complacent in your safety measures after being together so long. it’s easy to forget that he could pose a threat to you when he’s never given you a reason to fear him. he is considered a monster by many, yes, but not by you — and that’s all that really matters to him. besides, beomgyu likes to think he could control himself no matter what, especially when it comes to you and your safety; but when he looks down to his hands, he finds that the fabric of the comforter has been torn open due to his unrelenting grip. his eyes squeeze shut. he needs to leave. he needs to leave right now. you’re too tempting, too testing for his natural instincts. run. run far away before he loses control.

rolling over, your head lands on his lap, arms curling around his left leg as you nuzzle your nose into the smooth skin of his thigh. it’s stronger now, that overwhelming scent. he feels like there’s a frog stuck in his throat, ice in his veins — he needs to get out of here. right fucking now. gently, he tries to peel your body from his, but your arms have become vines, curled tightly around his leg, the side of his knee pressed into the valley between your breasts. they curl tighter as he tries to slip his hands beneath them, but he refuses to use the full extent of his strength on you. 

“baby,” he murmurs, nudging your shoulder only to receive no response. he grits his teeth together, he gulps, he tries again. “baby, wake up. you need to let go.”

you let out a sleepy mumble of his name, hooded eyes just beginning to focus as you look up at him. slowly, you take in the stiffness in his posture, his fleeting gaze illuminated by the moonlight. frowning, you set your chin on his thigh, eyes fluttering to a close once again. “what’s going on?”

“i need to leave, darling,” he grits out — he wants to bite you. he can’t bite you. he can’t. he fucking won’t. 

any fatigue remaining in your body drains from your system the moment he utters those words, worry flooding your veins in its wake. you sit up, arms curling around yourself as you lean closer to him, barely registering the pain in your abdomen. his eyes squeeze shut, dark brows furrowing as he shifts away. “why? did something happen? are you in danger—”

how are you so selfless? why, of all things, is the first thing that comes to your mind is his safety? you’re the one that may be in danger here, and he is the reason why you might be. 

you’re on his lap now, hands sliding over the planes of his face and down to cup his jaw. “gyu, c’mon. why do you need to leave?”

his eyes glint red before returning back to normal, razor-sharp fangs elongating before retracting again. his hands remain by his side while he shakes his head, gripping the sheets so cruelly that the threads are on the verge of tearing. now that your legs are parted, he can barely think straight. he needs to taste you, he has to—

“your period just started.”

his voice has lowered to a snarl, resounding from deep within his chest and straight into the pit that has opened up in your stomach. restraint pulls his words taut, hungry, feral — he needs something. he needs blood. you know he’s been depriving himself lately, though you’re unsure why, but now…now feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke on you with this divine timing. at the sound of another feral groan passing from his lips, you freeze. the fingers brushing over his jaw tense up, pressing into his skin ever so slightly, your voice whisper-quiet. breathy, shock coating each word, “oh. oh shit, um. i’m so sorry, i didn’t. i thought i had another week until—”

your attempt at climbing off of his lap proves to worsen the situation. in the blink of an eye, he’s grabbed ahold of your hips, halting your movements. crimson tinges the edges of his irises, fangs poking out from his upper lip as he pants. “don’t move. please don’t move. i don’t want—fuck, i don’t want to hurt you, baby, please.” 

you sit there for a moment, taking in his pained grimace. he’s fighting himself, he’s fighting every single primal instinct within him telling him to pounce, yet his terribly gentle fingers pressing into your hips indicates that he is still in full control. it’s okay, you think. you’d be okay if he fed.

fingers sliding down to his shoulders, you squeeze. “gyu, you need blood. i know you’re hungry, and it’s okay. i don’t mind.” 

in response, he shakes his head. “no, i can’t. i might hurt you, i can’t.”

your lips purse. what could you do? you’re stuck here, in the precarious position, with no clear way out. figure something out, come on. deep breath. in, out. in, out.

suddenly, an idea unearths itself within the walls of your mind, blooms like the moonflowers that so easily captures your attention when you go on walks with your lover. he doesn’t have to feed in the typical way. he could…oh, he could…

“you don’t have to feed from me, baby,” you coo, watching as his eyes flutter open and meet yours. vermillion now, not one speck of brown in sight. with a gentle, encouraging smile, a hand comes up to swipe through his hair. he shivers at the contact, but you can tell he’s still there. he’s still your gyu, hungry or not. in silence, you take the hand that still holds your left hip and guide it down to the apex of your thighs, allowing his fingers to brush over your panty-clad core. “just…taste me from here.”

he inhales sharply at the contact, at your words, wrenching his arm away. his other hand leaves you completely, palms dragging over his face as he attempts to compose himself. every fiber of his being is screaming at him to take the offer, just take the offer and eat you out — you want it, he really wants it… 

“i can’t,” he chokes out from behind his hands. with a sigh, you shift your face closer to his, grabbing his wrists to remove his hands. he lets you, he always lets you. his eyes remain closed this time, but you work with it; you know he can hear your heartbeat and the rustling of your shirt, smell your sweetness, feel the warmth radiating off of your face as you press a peck to his cheek.

“i trust you,” you whisper against the corner of his lips. he whispers out a weak refusal, and you shift against him, just a tiny motion of your hips that causes him to hiss. lower lip wobbling, his hands find your hips once more, eyes silently pleading with you to quit moving before he loses it. as you cup his cheeks, you tilt your head. “i know, baby. i know you don’t want to hurt me — and you won’t, i know you won’t. but don’t you want a taste? it smells good, doesn’t it? there’s nothing stopping you from taking what you need.”

his resolve crumbles before your very eyes as you continue to encourage him. he doesn’t even need to bite you, it’ll be okay, you’ll be safe. it’ll feel good for you too, rid you of your cramps in the process — doesn’t he want to help you feel better? you’ll both feel better if he does this. 

that’s enough for his composure to splinter, cracks forming and spreading like the roots of a tree until it shatters. there’s little holding him back as he flips you onto your back, him towering over you with wide eyes and a parted mouth. pausing, he stares down at you, voice barely louder than a whisper. “tell me to stop.” 

“i don’t want you to,” you murmur back. “take what you need.”

that’s all he needs to hear.

his fangs glint under the moonlight as he swoops in to capture your lips, aggressive, tongue slinking its way past your lips to curl with your own. the kiss itself doesn’t last long, not when one of his fangs slices into your lip, pulling a squeal from you. easily, he tongue locates the wound, laves over it as blood bubbles up to the surface of the flesh. he moans against your mouth at the taste. the sting subsides as the wound closes, and he pulls away. 

“need more,” beomgyu rasps. he’s wide-eyed, on the verge of absolute ruin, but you love seeing him like this. you crave to see him lose control. you are not the glass doll he’s made you out to be. you can take it, you can take him, and he needs to realize that sooner or later — preferably now. 

so you open your legs that have wrapped themselves around his hips, watch as his eyes roll back into his head, and say, “then have more.”

your panties are torn away from your center with ease, and while he can’t technically die, beomgyu thinks that this might just be the nail in his metaphorical coffin. with the barrier of clothes now eliminated, your scent is no longer obstructed, and you smell absolutely fucking divine. his head spins, nose filled with base notes of iron and sugar and a richness that he’s never experienced before. oh. oh fuck, he’s done for. 

sliding down your body until he’s settled between your legs, he holds you open and takes in how blood drips from your fluttering hole. you’re aroused, that much he can tell, and it excites that untamed side of him that he constantly tries to tuck away. it’s out in full force right now, and he doesn’t have it in him to hide it anymore, not when you smell like this, not when your blood is right there for the taking, especially not when you’re inviting him to taste with that sweet little voice of yours, breathy and needy and wanton, pleading for him to touch you. 

and fuck, he can’t take it anymore.

he doesn’t buy time with teasing your thighs like he usually does whenever he eats you out — no, he goes in straight for the kill, tongue licking a strip up your pussy, his groans reverberating against your clit as your saccharine blood hits his taste buds. he doesn’t pull away to comment, but you know just by the way his tongue slips into your hole that he likes what he finds. sometimes, you forget that your lover is no longer human — until these moments in which you are brutally reminded, his tongue extending far into your walls as he gives in to his basest desires. you cry out as the muscle curls up against the spongy spot inside you, thighs closing around his head, but not for long; fingers curl under your thighs, spreading you open for him as he removes his tongue from your entrance, beginning to lick your folds, your inner thighs, cleaning up the blood that has found its way there. his tongue does not slowly savor your skin. rather, he laps at you like a starved man, pulling you closer and closer to his face. if he were human, you’d be worried if he could breathe. 

this must be heaven, he thinks, as he returns back to your folds, tongue swirling around your entrance, his nose bumping against your weeping pearl while his tongue explores your walls as deep as his fingers could go. the sensation is far different from fingers, however — hotter, wetter, you can feel his desperation with every lick and drag, the roughness stimulating every single nerve ending it touches. his hands hold your hips up, holding you as close as possible as he shoves his tongue deeper, the tip of his nose now grinding against your clit. 

“g-gyu! fuck, oh my god, gyuuu!” you repeat over and over again, feeling your high approach. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter, and you reach down to rub your clit with sloppy circles. beomgyu growls at this. he knows you’re close, he knows so well, and he wants to get you there. he needs you to experience the nirvana he has reached right now — he needs you right here with him. 

his tongue leaves your hole again, but the aching emptiness is quickly remedied with three fingers filling you to the brim. back arching, you plead for mercy, for him to let you cum, for anything. please, god, you’ll take anything. he finds your bud, suckling it between his lips, moans muffled against your core and the knot pulls tighter and tighter and the fire rushing through your veins grows white hot—

the knot snaps.

“fu-uckkk!” you scream, voice cracking as your vision spots white, pleasure rushing through every crevice of your body, thighs quaking and back arching and hands finding hair and yanking. your body feels like it’s floating, the waves of pure bliss unending as he continues his ministrations, removing his fingers so he can revel in the taste of your sweet, sweet blood that gushes from your hole. unable to come down, you remain in the throes of pleasure even as he flips the both of you over, your thighs now cushioning his head as you sit atop his face.

you gasp at the position, his eyes now glowing a bright scarlet in the darkness as he looks up at you. you’ve never seen such a shade on him, and arousal sparks in your stomach once again. “gyu, what—”

“more, need more,” he grunts out, now tracing your folds with his tongue. your gyu is still there, just…hungrier, frantic for more. 

if he could taste this for the rest of his life, he would never tire.

“gyu, i don’t— ohhh, shit!” your voice pitches up as he begins to lap at your core, little in his mind other than taking and taking until he’s sated and full. your clit aches with overstimulation, your walls quivering with each pass of his eager tongue as he holds you against him. soon enough, your torso collapses into the mattress, sheets curled between your fingers while you whimper, sweat beading across your heated skin. you can’t. you can’t cum again, and you tell him this again and again, yet he doesn’t heed your cries, building you up and making you cum on his tongue again and again until you can’t even think. your words are incoherent, garbled and tearful against the sheets, begging for him to let up.

“baby, baby i can’t,” you sob as you reach what you think is your fifth orgasm. “gyu!”

finally — fucking finally — he lets up, helps you ride out your high before slipping out from between your thighs. helping you onto your back, he holds your face between his palms, a small trace of blood from his fingers staining your cheek. your blood covers the majority of his lower face, smeared across his chin and lips and even a little on the tip of his nose. if you had enough energy to, you would laugh at the sight. 

“gonna go clean up real quick, okay? i’ll be right back,” he murmurs, squeezing your cheeks when you nod. he’s back within mere seconds, irises now back their normal umber and fangs retracted, no longer more animal than human, no traces of your blood on his face anymore.

“you okay?” he asks softly, smiling when you offer a lethargic nod. he climbs over you, sliding his lips over yours, wet, languid kisses exchanged as he slides his hands up and down your sides. “y’did so well for me, darling. thank you for trusting me.”

“told you it would be worth it,” you shoot back, tiredly giggling when his eyes narrow. 

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” he replies, eyes softening around the edges as he drinks you in, every curve and edge — perfect. you are perfect to him. hands slides up to your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “you wanna take a bath, love?”

leaning up, you give him a small peck. “that sounds wonderful.”

as beomgyu gathers you in his arm, commenting how he should just burn these sheets since they’re basically ruined, you find yourself thinking that there’s no one else that you would rather spend the rest of your life with — the rest of eternity with, if he’ll allow it. for now, however, you’ll let him tend to you in the bath, pressing butterfly kisses to your neck from behind as you bask in each other’s presence, the sky outside fading from a deep black into a muted azure. 

for now, this is enough.

masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Pack 141 - Sphinx!Gaz Headcanons

Tags: monster au, sphinx shifter! gaz, poly 141, cuddling, snuggling, generally just sweet vibes, a/b/o dynamics sort of??

-Despite popular belief, he is not a riddle teller, so much as a riddle solver. Gaz is a sharp man, intuitive and observant.  Even if he hadn't come from a long line of notoriously clever shifters, little would stump him to begin with. Man loves a good puzzle, which mostly extends to puzzle games or toys. In addition to a serious love of mystery movies (Benoit Blanc better watch his ass). He does keep a handful of different apps on his phone, just to keep from getting bored, and often finds himself in wikipedia rabbit holes researching anything and everything. All this being said, he will break out a cheesy riddle on occasion, just to be a big smartass.

-Gaz is very physically affectionate with his pack. Fondly pressing his head to Ghost’s shoulder or chest after a particularly lame joke. Chuckling into his shirt. Grabbing Soap by his jaw during an embrace, pressing their cheeks or temples together. Nipping his ear playfully. Gently ramming his forehead to Price’s at the evac point, a silent check in after a grueling mission. 

- A notorious biter, nothing rough unless you ask of course, but the pack are certainly his chew toys.  Leaning over to chomp playfully at Soap’s shoulder when he isn’t paying attention to him. Nipping at the plush pectorals of Ghost’s chest when he is ready to quit napping with him. Chasing and nibbling at Price’s fingers as he tries to patch up his face.  

- Also say goodbye to your personal space, as he regularly, unceremoniously lounges on other members of his pack like they're furniture, sprawling himself over his mates. He tucks himself neatly against the soft fat of Ghost’s stomach and chest, his toes buried underneath Soap’s thigh. 

-Is also very content to let other pack members drape themselves over him. Rumbling happily at a conked out Soap draped over him like a weighted blanket. If one or more are napping around him, be prepared for a cuddle puddle. Gaz craves the physical contact.

- Sphinx commonly communicate with subtle sounds or facial expressions. This being said he is expressive, his feelings written in the lines of his face. (Leading to some mad RBF at times). He also has a tendency to reply in soft hums or huffs. A fair amount of communication with his family was non-verbal. He has been warned more than once to use his words when displeased. 

-Let’s not forget purring, and boy does he purr. Price was positively chuffed when he first heard it, a low rumble that he could barely make out above the mechanical roar of the helo. The op had been exhausting, and Gaz and slumped against his shoulder within the first 5 minutes of their trek home. Safe. Gaz felt safe. Safe enough to rest openly against his captain. It made his heart swell. Price settled in, adjusting the younger sergeant more comfortably before crossing his arms and relaxing himself. Letting the soft rumble lull him.  

-Gaz also possesses a deafening roar. His harmonics can paralyze and injure most in proximity, even deafen. And if you're small enough, completely knock you over with the force of it.

-there is an inherent magic to felids, and this extends to Gaz, who has the ability to see (or at minimum sense) most spirits and spells.  We've all seen cats stare into empty corners…well, they're not staring at nothing.

-yes the purring is indicative of a safe and happy sphinx, but there is a subtle magic to this as well. The resonant purr having a calming effect on those around him, he has lulled more than one pack member into resting with it. Sit with him long enough and you will be handed one ticket to sleepy town junction, whether you like it or not.  No one is immune. 

-Gaz has the sharpest eyes out of all the pack, making him an invaluable sniper. He also shares enhanced hearing, smell, strength and an improved healing factor. 

-There are differing species of sphinx, with their own unique shapes and dispositions. Gaz, even in a full humanoid form still possesses visible characteristics of his species (androsphinx), slitted pupils, long tufted tail, and most notably large wings.  

-Gaz’s wings are bulky, and not designed for extended periods of true flight. While possible, it takes a great deal of energy. It’s something he has to prepare for. They serve him better as enhancements to movement, such as gliding, covering large distances or scaling great heights.

Gaz’s wings can also produce a tremendous gust of wind, and act as a shield for certain types of damage.  

-Gaz, similarly to Price can control his shift, able to alter his body in varying degrees of change. Though some things cannot be completely deteriorated, such as his eyes, wings and tail. Most sphinxes are gifted a unique article as children, usually a piece of jewelry with a glamour charm. In Gaz’s case, this a small  paracord bracelet, its subtle and durable, ideal for his line of work. Other charms can be made, though the charm is tedious to apply. His hat, as well as charming gold earring, all have the same charm applied. 

-Unlike Price and Simon, Gaz’s nature leans less towards possessiveness (though it’s still present), but rather a fierce protectiveness for his pack. He is the peace keeper, a pillar of emotional stability and comfort for his mates. Who he serves not only physically, but emotionally as well. Any slight towards his mates is unacceptable, and while they may forget or forgive, Gaz will not. He will protect them viciously. If not with the gun in his hands then with teeth and claws. 

-Sphinx are territorial. While most are able to tell the difference between deliberate intrusion and accidental trespass. Gaz still gets antsy about the 141's barracks. That he has self declared as exclusively his territory. Like a guard dog who wasn't given permission to bite (yet), he follows any perceived intruder around at a distance, watching around corners in case they try to touch anything. 

-Perhaps even more serious to him than the barracks? His room. A den he calls it, but it's really a nest. His nest is well guarded and maintained, his sanctuary of safety and comfort in a profession full of bloodshed and adrenaline. As social as sphinx are it can be a difficult thing to be away from his pack, and so he keeps articles of clothing from his lovers, weaves them into his nest so the scents weave and surround him like a warm blanket.

-Gaz, thinking himself a rather clever shit, had taken to stealing the items at first. Well not stealing per se, borrowing really. He gives them all back…at some point. In the beginning, while the pack had gotten close, his nest was sorely void of real comfort. It was childish by sphinx standards, to still need a nest after one had left home in their solitary journey. Too embarrassed to outright ask, he took to snagging clothes from the laundry room, washed, but his pack mates scent lingered just enough to tie him over. Only to be replaced with something else when the scent faded completely. 

-Ghost, of course, was the first to notice. Being forgetful was something Ghost was not. And he knew when his favorite hoodie was missing god damn it, only to mystically appear when he pulled his clothes from the dryer, just for another favorite, an old soft band t-shirt, to come up missing next. Ghost clocked him soon afterward, catching the little thief by the familiar scents that clung to Gaz when he shuffled into the kitchen that morning. 

-After a stern conversation with his Lieutenant, Gaz explained himself with burning cheeks. Ghost hadn't said a word, only yanked his current sweatshirt off his shoulders, shoving it into Gaz's hands. “Go on then, and bring me my other one back" he grunted.

-From then on, like clockwork, Gaz retrieves his treasures. Swapping out clothes for new pieces, warm and scent heavy.  Price is sure to drop off extra when he anticipates being on longer missions. Soft cotton sweatshirts soaked in his honey-tobacco scent.  Why no he did not shift and then wallow on these clothes like a chinchilla to make sure his scent sticks…ignore all the dog hair. 

-It would only get better once his pack began to tumble in bed with him, their scents mingling, soaking into his plush blankets. Now, Gaz sleeps soundly, purring serenely against the skin of one or more of his mates.

[samwisethewitch]

Bewitching Your Coffee

I am 100% a coffee drinker. I love drinking it black, I love it in lattes and cappucini (yes, that's the actual plural of cappucino), and I especially love the experience of sharing coffee with another person. And, like everything that comes out of my kitchen, I like finding ways to make coffee more magical.

But even though coffee is a daily essential for a lot of us and has a long history in folk magic, people don't talk about it nearly as much as tea magic. I did some digging, and this post contains my research into the magic and lore of coffee and the things we like to add to coffee. I hope my fellow kitchen witches find this helpful!

Correspondences of Coffee and Common Coffee Add-ons

Coffee: Used for grounding and to anchor a spell in the physical world. Useful in spells for mental clarity and enhancing psychic senses. Used in several types of American folk magic as an offering for spirits. Author Starr Casas uses coffee for powerful cleansing and blockbusting in her Southern folk magic practice. Because of its association with energy and movement, coffee can be used to add strength to spells. I personally associate coffee with the Earth and Air elements and with the planet Uranus.

Milk has different correspondences based on whether you are using cow's milk or a plant-based milk.

Cow's Milk: Associated with nurturing, love, and abundance. In pagan Ireland, offering someone milk was an effective blessing. Milk and cream are said to be favorite offerings of fairies. I associate cow's milk with the Water element and the Moon.

Soy Milk: Soy may have been a sacred food crop in ancient China and is associated with blessings. During the Japanese festival Setsubun, soy beans are used to repel bad spirits and draw good fortune in a practice called mamemaki -- soy products can be used in spells for protection or good fortune. Use soy milk or other soy products in spells for success, good luck, and prosperity. I personally associate soy milk with the Earth element and with the planet Jupiter.

Almond Milk: Associated with prosperity, wealth, and success in business, as well as with increasing wisdom. Almond milk and other almond products are associated with the Air element and the planet Mercury.

Coconut Milk: Associated with purification, healing, and protection. In African American magic traditions, coconut can be used for peaceful home work and protection work, as well as ancestor offerings. Coconut is associated with the Water element and the moon.

Oatmilk: Associated with prosperity and money magic. Oats are associated with the Earth element and the planet Venus.

Sweeteners attract sweetness and good fortune. Different sweeteners have their own associations.

Sugar: Associated with love and lust. In Southern folk magic, sugar is sometimes used in money work. Sugar is associated with the Water element and the planet Venus.

Brown Sugar: Has the same associations as regular sugar, but works more slowly because it contains molasses.

Honey: Associated with home, family, love, and blessings. In Southern folk magic, honey is sometimes used in domination or control work, especially honeycomb. I personally associate honey with the Water element and with the planet Venus.

Maple Syrup: Associated with love, money, and long life. I personally associate maple with new life and transformation based on Robin Wall Kimmerer's writings about them in Braiding Sweetgrass. Associated with the Air element and the planet Jupiter.

Artificial Sweeteners (Splenda, xylitol, and other man-made sweeteners): There's very little written about the magical uses of these sweeteners, but I personally associate them with creativity, innovation, and new discoveries. I associate these sweeteners with the Air element and the planets Mercury and Uranus.

Caramel* is actually made from sugar, which is cooked over low heat until it caramelizes, or turns brown. Caramel has the same magical associations as sugar, but with a stronger connection to Fire energy and to transformation.

*Note: In the US, "caramel" is often made with corn syrup. For example, the caramel drizzle at Starbucks is basically 100% corn syrup, or at least was when I worked there a few years back. This isn't to say you can't work magically with corn syrup-based caramel, but the energy will be different. I don't have experience here because I have a corn allergy, so I'd love to hear if anyone has experience working with corn syrup in witchcraft!

Chocolate** is originally from Latin America and was an important ceremonial drink in Mayan culture. In Mexica (Aztec) culture, chocolate was used as currency and was said to be a gift from the gods. It was associated with the devil and with witchcraft when it was first brought to Spain by colonizers. Later, during the Renaissance, it was seen as a miracle cure for all kinds of medical conditions. Based on its history, chocolate can be used in magic for love, sex, energy, spirituality, magical abilities, and healing. I personally associate chocolate with the Fire element and with the Sun.

**Note: Scott Cunningham includes a note on "chocolate" in his book on magical herbs, but this is actually carob, Jacaranda procera. The cacao tree, which produces chocolate, is Theobroma cacao.

Cinnamon is associated with success, healing, adding power to spells, spirituality, wealth, and protection. Cinnamon is important in Christian folk magic because of its use in the Bible. In Southern folk magic, cinnamon is used for money, luck, and lust and is said to work very fast. It can also be used for blessings and protection spells. It is associated with the Fire element and the Sun.

Clove is probably most famous for its use in spells to stop gossip, but it is also used to drive away harmful spirits and to attract wealth. It is also sometimes used in love and sex magic and for successful business work. It is connected to the Fire element and the planet Jupiter.

Ginger adds power to spells and situations. It is used in spells for love, money, success, and healing, but it can be included in any spell to add power or make results happen faster. Ginger is associated with Fire and with the planet Mars.

Hazelnuts have long been used in Western European folk charms for luck and good fortune. It is said that eating hazelnuts makes you wise and can increase fertility. Hazel is also associated with protection and with granting wishes. It is connected to the Air element and the Sun.

Lavender is used in love spells, especially spells to attract a masculine partner. It also has a strong association with peacefulness and with calming emotions. It is sometimes used for protection and is said to both attract and banish spirits, depending on the source. Lavender has a long historic connection to the queer community. It is associated with Air and the planet Mercury.

Nutmeg is most famous as a good luck charm, but it is also used for healing, money, and success. In Southern folk magic, it is used mostly for money, success, and good luck. It is associated with Fire and with Jupiter.

Peppermint is commonly used in healing magic, but it can also be used for purification, attracting good spirits, divination, love, and money. In Southern folk magic, peppermint is used for hex breaking. It is associated with Fire and the planet Mercury.

Vanilla is strongly associated with love and comfort. It can sometimes be used in lust spells. Scott Cunningham mentions using vanilla to replenish lost energy. It is associated with the Water element and the planet Venus.

Magical Coffee Brews

With these ingredient correspondences, you can easily mix a spell into a coffee drink. For example, a pumpkin spice latte (which is made with pumpkin pie spice, i.e., a mix of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and cloves) can be a spell for money and success. A lavender latte with oatmilk could be an excellent love spell, especially for queer love. A peppermint mocha (coffee with chocolate) could be a healing spell. There are lots of possibilities for a magic brew!

Sources:

Witchcraft for Everyone by Sam Wise

Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs by Scott Cunningham

Hoodoo Herbal by Starr Casas

Jambalaya by Luisah Teish

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Wikipedia article for soybeans

Wikipedia article for Setsubun

"History of Chocolate" on History.com

"Chocolate: From witchcraft to miracle worker in early modern Europe" by Erin Alice Cowling, published in The Conversation

[autieofthevalley]

ATEEZ'S KINKS THOUGHTS 🫦

[MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS OR DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED INSTANTLY, BACK TF OUT⚠️]

Okay, so i was watching tiktoks and this idea came to me, this is my thoughts on what kinks each member of Ateez could actually have based on videos i've seen of them and the vibes they give.

HONGJOONG / Daddy Kink

You've seen that man, he's the ultimate dilf, like really. The vibes, his looks, everything. And lately, we discovered that him and Yunho were dominants (based on that recent video with the medium guy). So yes, of course, he's a shy baby, BUT i'm pretty sure, that man is a secret freak, and he LOVES to dominate you. Don't care if you're a bit older or younger than him, he would ADORE being called "Daddy", or even "Captain" (you know what i'm talking about) while he pounds into you. He would, in fact, go even harder if you call him that from your own will, you know you would not be able to walk after that session with him. (The soft aftercare would be always here by the way)

SEONGHWA / Bondage and/or Blindfolded

Now, hear me out on that one. Okay, so i don't know why BUT i feel like Seonghwa would love bondage, either on him or his partner. As well as being blindfolded. I can see him tying up his partner and go down on them after putting a blindfold on them to enhance their other senses. He gives those vibes. He would also adore shibari (!!!), especially on him, as his partner would play with his cock until he's leaking bad, would turn him on so fast to be tied up.

YUNHO / Dacryphilia

Pretty sure it's not a surprise for any of you, because we literally all agreed unconsciously that this mf has a potential kink seeing people crying, turns him on. Firstly, like Hongjoong, he's a dominant for sure, secondly, i know he would (not even as a punishment) be a little meanie sometimes in bed, wanting to see you cry out to him after he edged you and denied all of your orgasms somehow, your tears would fuel him on and eventually, he would give in and obliterate you during at least an hour non-stop making you cry even more of overstimulation.

YEOSANG / Katoptronophilia

If you're not familiar with the term, Katoptronophilia is being sexually aroused when having sex and masturbating in front of a mirror. I'm not sure why, i can see Yeosang, even if he's mostly shy, having this secret kink. Like two faces of the same coin (if you know what i mean). Yeosang would be turned on seeing himself and his partner have sex, even making his partner watch him masturbating. The intimacy of it, the act in itself, he would instantly go all red and come quickly all over his chest, thighs, and hands, even watching his cock disappear inside you through the mirror, he would come so hard.

SAN / Size Kink

I dare you to look me in the eyes and tell San would not have a size kink. Have you seen him??? That mf knows, and he plays with that, as much as Yunho and his hands (but that's another story for another time i think). He would adore have a smaller s/o, loving the effect he would have on you. And he would certainly manhandle you in bed (gently or rough, if you ask him, after all he's a pleasure dom). He would be surely turned on, knowing the difference in size. He would have you pinned to the bed, both your wrists and your hips, enjoying the bulge in your stomach everytime he would hit your insides, a little too much, that man is a freak.

MINGI / Praising Kink

YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!! This manwhore LOVES and ADORE being praised so much, i could honestly do an hour compilation of him loving the compliments and the barking, he even asks for it most of the time!!! I know he loves when you praise him in bed too, telling how well he fucks you, or how much you love his body. He could come from your praises alone, especially if you're dominant, oh, he's surely coming hard from that.

JONGHO / Strength Kink

WOOYOUNG / Degrading Kink

I know this little shit loves to be degraded and also loves to degrade. He's a real switch and a whole menace, okay? When he degrades, he loves to call you a whore, his little slut while either getting sucked or pounding you the shit out of you, it's getting in his blood and boost his dominant side. When he's being dominated, though.. it riles him up to being degraded, he can honestly come from just you calling him your little whore, without being touched.

Listen to me right now, that man knows how to use his strength, bro knows how to break an apple in two in 0.5 seconds, first of all, that's hot and attractive of him. Secondly, he would surely use that ability in bed, and like San, he would also manhandle you. Would fuck you against a wall without hesitation and would eat you out also against the wall, just supporting your thighs on his shoulders and holding you in place with his bare hands.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A.N : Happy Halloween my darlings 🎃 i hope you enjoyed my little train of thoughts ♡ make sure to reblog and like if you did !

[kimmie2me]

Hi there! May you pretty please do deku x reader with a deer/fawn quirk! Headcannons or a story is fine you can choose🍒

Marks of a Hero

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Midoriya Izuku x AFAB!Reader with a fawn Quirk

.....

Izuku’s dorm room was filled with the soft amber glow of his desk lamp, casting a cozy warmth over the walls covered in hero posters and personal memorabilia. You sat cross-legged on his bed, smiling softly as he animatedly flipped through his notes, pointing out drawings and theories with a passion that seemed to set his eyes alight.

“…so, I guess that’s what fascinates me so much about quirks that alter someone’s physical form. Like Tsuyu-chan! She’s developed abilities that make her adaptable to so many situations—on land, underwater, high places,” he gushed, eyes sparkling with admiration. He moved on to mention quirks like Mirko’s remarkable rabbit agility and speed, Hawks’ feathered wings with all their hidden abilities, and finally… he paused, looking over at you, hesitant but with a trace of wonder in his expression.

“…And yours. I just think it’s incredible how graceful you are. There’s something different about the way you move, how attuned you seem to your surroundings. It’s like…” He trailed off, almost bashful, rubbing the back of his neck as he fumbled for words. “It’s like you’re connected to something beyond what we can see. I don’t know, maybe it sounds strange, but I’d love to understand it better. If that’s okay?”

You blinked, heart swelling at his openness and curiosity. His enthusiasm for quirks always inspired you, but hearing him speak so intently about yours had a different effect. You leaned forward, smiling gently.

“Why don’t you explore it yourself?” you offered, the suggestion so natural that it slipped out before you could second-guess it. “It might help your research if you could… well, take a closer look.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, cheeks flooding with color. “W-Wait, really? You’d… let me? I mean, here? Now?”

You nodded, a calm reassurance in your expression. “Yes. I trust you, Izuku. Besides, if it’ll help with your analysis, I’m happy to assist.”

“Right. Right, of course! Purely for research,” he stammered, trying to steady his nerves. With a deep breath, he inched closer, his fingers hovering just above your shoulders, hesitating. “This is… okay?”

You offered him a soft nod, and, at last, he began to reach out, his touch light as a feather at first, as if afraid to disturb something precious. His fingertips traced along the faint contours of your collarbone, where your skin bore subtle markings unique to your quirk. He’d always found these hints of animalistic strength mesmerizing, even in his sketches and notes. Up close, he seemed even more awestruck.

“This is… incredible,” he murmured, voice hushed with reverence. His fingertips followed the delicate tracings of darker pigmentation on your shoulders and arms—markings reminiscent of the patterns found on young fawns, subtle but unmistakably present. “It’s like these patterns… they almost mirror actual fawn spots. I wonder if they have any evolutionary purpose, like camouflage? Have you ever noticed if they shift in different seasons or adapt to your surroundings?”

You chuckled, unable to hide your amusement. “Not that I’ve noticed. But I do have enhanced senses, so maybe it’s just as useful that way.” His fingers brushed over a slight ridge along your shoulder, evidence of a minor quirk-related adjustment beneath the skin, and you saw his gaze sharpen with fascination.

“Your shoulders,” he observed, his voice soft and analytical, “they’re slightly more developed, like there’s an extra layer of muscle. It’s so subtle, but… is that how you can leap as high as you do?”

You nodded, impressed by his insight. “Exactly. I don’t even realize it sometimes, but it’s there. Helps with balance and power.” You could feel his hands relax as he grew more absorbed, each touch more confident, his focus trained on understanding rather than hesitation.

For a moment, he was lost in his analysis, fingertips exploring the faint curve of your spine and the sinewy strength you carried. There was a purity to his admiration—his complete and genuine awe of your abilities—and it warmed you to see him immersed in discovering this side of you.

And then, he stilled, drawing his hands back with a shy laugh. “I, uh… sorry. I got a little carried away.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I don’t mind. Actually, Izuku, would it be okay if I… looked at you, too?”

His face reddened immediately, and he seemed to shrink back, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous reflex. “Uh… m-me? I mean… I… I don’t think there’s much to see.” He glanced down, his voice faltering. “It’s mostly just scars. Nothing like… like yours. I mean, there’s not much that’s…”

He trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish, and your heart softened. “Izuku,” you said gently, reaching out to take his hand, “these scars are part of you, too. They’re part of everything that makes you who you are. I’d like to see them, if you’d let me. I promise, I won’t judge. I just… want to understand more about you.”

He looked at you, and in his eyes, there was something so vulnerable, so open that it took your breath away. Slowly, he nodded, taking a shaky breath as he lifted his shirt, revealing the map of scars that crisscrossed his chest and torso—signs of battles and struggles, reminders of his journey.

Your hand hovered just above his skin, taking in the raw evidence of everything he’d been through. Carefully, you let your fingers rest over a thin, jagged scar running along his collarbone.

Izuku’s voice softened, almost as if he were telling you a secret. Maybe because, well, he was. “That one… it’s from the Hero Killer, Stain. When he attacked Iida in Hosu City, I… I knew I couldn’t just stand by. We were just supposed to be training, but I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else.”

You nodded, fingers tracing over the scar with gentle reverence. “You were so brave,” you whispered. He blushed, his eyes downcast but a small, almost bashful smile tugging at his lips.

“I didn’t feel brave,” he admitted, glancing up at you. “But in that moment, I just… I knew I had to act. I'm so glad Todoroki-kun came to help us.”

Your hand drifted to another mark, a deeper one just above his ribs, and he inhaled, recognizing the spot immediately. “That was from Overhaul,” he said, voice low. “When I… when I saved Eri. She was so scared. I remember feeling like I had to give everything I had, and then some.”

The memory hung between you both, heavy and sacred. You remembered that battle, the way he’d come back bruised and battered but with that quiet strength that had always set him apart. “Eri’s safe because of you, Izuku,” you murmured, a soft pride in your tone. “You’re a hero to her.”

He looked up, his green eyes softening as he watched you trace each mark with such care. “It wasn’t easy,” he admitted, “but seeing her smile afterward at the school festival… it was worth it.”

You moved lower, touching a scar on his side—a small one, but etched with a memory just as fierce. “This one?”

“That was… from Nine.” Izuku’s voice grew quiet, his gaze distant as he relived the memory. “On Nabu Island. Kacchan and I fought him together. He was so strong, but… I couldn’t let him hurt anyone. I couldn’t let anyone on the island suffer because of us.” He managed a small, shaky laugh. “Kacchan wouldn’t forgive me if I gave up anyway.”

The way he said it made you smile, knowing that even amid chaos and danger, his heart had been focused on protecting others. You took his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Izuku’s cheeks flushed as he scratched his neck, embarrassed. “I just… I did what I had to. What any hero would.”

But you shook your head. “No, Izuku. Not everyone would. That’s what makes you so special.”

You continued to explore each mark, reaching one on his upper arm next. He looked at it, a fond smile in his eyes. “This one… it’s from Kota. When we fought Muscular. I thought… I thought I might not make it, but he gave me a reason to fight, you know? He trusted me.” There was a warmth in his gaze, a memory he held dearly.

“He trusted you because he saw how strong you were,” you said, feeling the strength in his arm. “You’re someone people can rely on, Izuku. Kota, Eri… and me.”

He let out a small laugh, nervous but happy, eyes shining as he looked at you. “Thank you.”

You paused on a scar just below his ribs, softer than some of the others, almost hidden against his skin. He placed his hand over yours, looking down at it with a sad smile. “Flect Turn,” he said quietly. “It’s still… hard to think about that one. The way his quirk worked… it felt like I was being forced to face myself. To question everything I was trying to achieve.”

You met his gaze, voice steady. “But you didn’t back down.”

“No,” he said, his voice more certain this time. “I didn’t.”

For a moment, you just sat there, taking in the weight of his story, each scar a part of the journey that had shaped him. You ran your fingers over a few smaller ones, ones he didn’t mention, but you knew from the look in his eyes that each one had a tale to tell.

Finally, he looked up, the tension in his shoulders softened, the vulnerability you’d seen in his eyes replaced with a quiet confidence. “Thank you for… for wanting to know all of this,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

You took his hands, squeezing them gently. “Thank you for letting me in, Izuku. These scars—they’re not weaknesses. They’re your strength. Proof of every battle, every person you’ve helped, and every reason you’ve kept going.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, and in that moment, he felt seen, understood, in a way he never had before. His cheeks flushed again, but there was a warmth in his expression, one you knew he’d carry with him beyond this room, beyond these memories.

“Thank you,” he whispered again, and this time, you knew he meant it in a way only the two of you could understand.

Midoriya Headcanons

...

— Izuku is utterly fascinated by how graceful you are, often catching himself watching you move without realizing it. He’s taken by the way you seem to instinctively navigate through crowds and small spaces with ease, almost like you’re attuned to every small detail around you.

— His notebook is filled with little sketches of your quirk’s features, like the subtle fawn-like markings or unique muscle structure that helps with agility. He’s spent hours researching how animal traits like yours might benefit in hero work, adding little notes like, “Could be useful for enhanced evasion.”

— He’s always mindful about touching you, especially if he’s trying to understand your quirk’s physical differences. His fingers are soft and light, often tracing the markings on your skin with almost scientific reverence, as if he’s afraid to break something delicate.

—Izuku’s attentive enough to notice if your senses seem more heightened in certain seasons or environments. He’ll offer his jacket or scarf in the winter, thinking your quirk might make you more sensitive to cold, and will keep extra snacks on hand in case you need extra energy.

—On days when training has been intense, he’ll suggest taking you to quieter places, like an empty park or a spot on campus where you can unwind. He knows that your heightened senses might make crowded spaces overwhelming, so he loves giving you a peaceful place to recharge.

— IIzuku finds your presence calming in a way he can’t quite explain. When he’s stressed or overthinking, he’s drawn to you because your calm demeanor and gentle movements help him feel grounded, and he’s always grateful for that unspoken support.

— He’s curious about how your quirk can be applied in different scenarios, so you two spend time coming up with unique tactics for you in mock battles. You’ve even managed to startle Bakugou once by sneaking up quietly—Izuku was genuinely impressed because not everyone can just do that!

— Knowing how self-conscious he sometimes feels about his scars, you’ve started a quiet ritual of tracing them gently, assuring him that they’re a testament to his courage and resilience. It’s become one of his favorite gestures, even if he blushes each time you do it.

— Izuku takes notes on exercises that might help you develop your natural abilities even further. He’ll shyly suggest new routines designed specifically with your quirk in mind, encouraging you to experiment and improve in ways that feel uniquely suited to you.

— Some nights, after studying or training, you’ll sit together, sharing stories about your quirks and experiences. Izuku finds himself opening up about his insecurities and struggles, especially around those he’s saved, while you reassure him that he’s helped you feel seen and understood, too.

[pthalogreenwriter]

Trouville Limerence - Chapter 1

A/n: This is going to be the slowest of burns that I have ever written in my life. If I'm missing any tags, comment what they are and I'll add them!

Wc: 4.1k

Summary: Hitman/Assassin!Gojo x Reader where he's very Yandere but doesn't want to kill you, he is genuinely obsessed with you.

Important background info for readers: Kaisen: A company that hires enhanced people as individual contractors, paying them through the funding of personal clients and the government, to kill the worst people in society (those that are pedophiles, killers, beaters of women and children, and so on.) All enhanced contractors have super strength, immense speed and reflexes, immense endurance, great tactical strength, enhanced senses. (Rules: no women or children.)

Warning: gore, descriptions of unaliving someone else (tumblr its fake), Gojo being annoying

Satoru Gojo woke up that Friday to the same alarm he woke up to everyday. 

He sat up and slapped his hand down on the clock, promising he would get himself a new one that wasn’t as loud as the one on his nightstand. Gojo was a light sleeper after all, he had to be now that he was in charge of Megumi Fushiguro. 

Fushiguro. It’s been two years since Toji went missing on an assignment and was never heard from again. He dropped Megumi off at Gojo’s in case it took the whole night to get the job done. Turns out, Toji was never able to finish it. 

So Gojo took Megumi in for his friend without question and now years later, he was taking the kid to school, which he didn’t mind at all. Being guardian of Megumi kept him in check. Small mundane things like buying groceries, cleaning up, and schedules became important to Gojo now that he was responsible for someone else’s life. 

Before Fushiguro, Gojo lived the life he wanted to. Working in the day, partying and getting fucked up at night. He brought anyone he wanted home, getting off on anonymity more than the actual person. He was satisfied with the life, no complaints.

And then when Fushiguro came into his life, it changed. No more hookups, he couldn’t just order in anymore since it was unhealthy, and he had to trade in his motorcycle for an actual car. Despite that, he had Megumi. Yeah, the kid was stoic and was always annoyed by him, but Gojo quickly learned that he was like that with everyone, so he wasn’t offended. If anything, Gojo was satisfied that Megumi treated him like everyone else because that way, he knew the kid was comfortable. Yes, he was satisfied with this life too. No complaints.

Except, there was a small one. 

Satoru Gojo was just satisfied. He wasn’t happy. He hasn’t been in a long time.

It was 7:05am when Gojo sighed and decided to get up from his bed, finally waking up Fushiguro even though the kid beat him to the punch everyday like clockwork. He doesn’t know if it was his heightened senses or the food, but Gojo can smell the breakfast aromas coming from the kitchen. He can only hope that Fushiguro saved some for him.

Gojo went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth before going to the kitchen and laughing to himself once he saw Megumi. Although not related, Fushiguro picked up some habits of Gojo before he could stop himself. It started when They would both eat before deciding to get dressed, not wanting to get food on their day clothes. Soon, Megumi started wearing sweatpants to bed when he saw Gojo wake up with different ones all the time, finding them rather comfy himself. The only regret he has with them is that once in a while, both Gojo and Megumi would wake up with matching pants. This annoyed Fushiguro while always amusing the guardian for obvious reasons. This morning was that once in a while.

“Good morning Megumi! How’d you sleep?” It wouldn’t matter what time it was, Gojo always had a better tone than Fushiguro.

A grunt in reply came from Megumi with a “Your food is on the counter.”

Gojo looked and there it was, sitting on the black counter of the kitchen. He grabbed his plate and utensils, thanking Fushiguro by rubbing the top of his head and annoying him further. Gojo continued standing, lower back leaning on the counter while they both ate in silence. Fushiguro’s version of quality time.

Once finished, Gojo washed their dishes and they both continued on with their morning routine. While Fushiguro showered, Gojo picked his standard button up and black slacks for work. Then he did his morning check of the place. 

Prior to Megumi, Gojo was comfortable sleeping with only one lock on the door. He had no deadbolts, windows were open while he slept, and knives were hidden everywhere. He could have taken on anyone who wanted to try it, he knew that. But with someone else under his roof, let alone a child, Gojo knew that if there was a possibility of someone breaking in, then there was a possibility of Megumi getting hurt. And with his line of work, Satoru couldn’t take that chance. 

Gojo killed for a living. He was the murderer of killers, and he loved it. The training he endured as a teen was not what he initially wanted, but he made the best of it. He had no idea at the time what the training would do for him, until one day he decided to actually give “working hard” a try. He became faster, stronger, and smarter when he learned how to hone in on his senses and abilities. 

Satoru excelled at it all, much better than his classmates, with the exception of Suguro Geto. They trained together and when time came, they killed together. All the murderers, pedophiles, and beaters were at their mercy as much as they wanted. It was the thrill of a lifetime to make memories with his best friend while they were at the top of the food chain. Gojo was more than satisfied. Not happy, but close.

And when Toji went missing, Gojo worked on bigger cases that paid more to have more time at home with Megumi. Again, Gojo didn’t care. He would rather take care of him than some freak family he rarely heard Toji talk about. They didn’t even care enough to fight for him in court. 

But Gojo would. He would fight for Fushiguro any day. Now that he had him, he actually had a reason now to give a fuck about himself and someone else. 

Yet, that wasn’t what he was missing, judging by the constant empty pit in his chest. 

He was thinking about this feeling again when he was checking the windows and doors. Gojo didn’t keep knives hidden everywhere because he didn’t think Fushiguro was ready for that conversation yet but he was still glad to feel the ones he had strapped above the living room window and under the right side of the couch. Feeling those in his morning and night checks always helped him relax a little bit and continue on. 

Once Fushiguro left the bathroom, Gojo got ready himself. They were out of the house by their usual time, 8am. Megumi needed to get to his school by 8:30am but lately preferred getting there 15 minutes early to hang with his new friend, Yuji. Gojo was surprised when he first asked, but he was glad that Megumi actually looked forward to talking to someone.

Gojo got to the Kaisen building a little before 9am, like always. Parking his car in the building garage, he took a long deep breath before getting out. 

Yeah Gojo loved his job. Getting paid in millions to kill people worse than him was the dream, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He toyed with the idea of becoming a regular cop but he knew it would never be possible. The justice system always failed and he preferred the idea of Kaisen fixing the government’s mistakes. Besides, killing was just too much fun.

Satoru Gojo would’ve been the same as the lives he’s ended if he didn’t have his own moral compass. He resented the idea of harming women and children. There was no joy or need to harm them in this life so why do others have that urge? 

It doesn’t matter.

Gojo never listened to their reasoning or pleas. Instead, it made it more fun when they begged him to live. As if he would ever let them. He took his time with his case subjects, just like they would with their victims. Only difference was that he could get away with it. If Gojo ever saw their name on a black file, they never had a chance. 

He wouldn’t always kill the same either. Depending on what they did, Gojo would use different ways to end their lives. Stabbing, burning, if he’s bored, he’ll take them to the woods to hunt them. His personal favorite was by his own hands, beating them to death. 

The only thing each of his kills had in common, was the way he made them look into his eyes as he felt the life leave their bodies. Gojo almost got off on it, if he was that kind of person. But to feel them die in his hands while they looked at him as if he was the monster was the closest he ever got to feeling like a God. 

Gojo took the elevator up to the near top of the building where his office was. He shared the floor with other contractors like Geto and Kento Nanami, men he was glad he could call friends. Both had watched Fushiguro when Gojo had to finish an assignment outside of work hours, helping him as when they all helped Toji. 

Reaching the floor his office was on, the first person that Gojo talked to in the building was Kiyotaka Ijichi. 

Ijichi was leaving Geto’s office when he saw Gojo exit the elevator and mentally prepared himself for the interaction with the contractor. He didn’t hate him, if anything Ijichi was also on the small list that’s trusted to watch Fushigurl on a long day. No, Gojo was just a pain in the ass. 

“Satoru, you were the next person I was going to see.” 

“Awww, did you miss me Ijichi?” Gojo looked at his friend in the suit with a sly smile as his sunglasses slipped a centimeter down the bridge of his nose. 

They entered Gojo’s office, similar to the other large offices on the floor - white walls and ash gray furniture. The desk, couch, and 2 chairs all faced the west side of the room where a TV was hanging on the wall, next to the door of the bathroom. Instead of a back wall, it was large full sized window panes and door, leading out to a black balcony. If you looked close enough, you could see the dust starting to form everywhere but the desk. That’s how much Gojo actually used the office. 

Ijichi wasted no time in his reply, “Actually, no. I’m here about your current case.”

The black folder sat closed on Gojo’s desk as if it was never opened, but he had read it all. Inside the folder, there were pictures of victims, faces and genitals mutilated with what they now know to be a scalpel. Women, early teens to mid 40s, all with exotic colors dyed in their hair as highlights. This was how he chose them.

Depending on the time, the killer would go for women in low or middle class society. The time meaning if he felt like taking a risk or not. Tonight, he was taking a different risk. 

“Well, months after the acquittal and constant surveillance, we can definitely say for sure that Mahito is the Seam Sinner.” This was the name the public came up with after the first two murders. “He waited for it to die down and didn’t go anywhere other than his med-school classes, ordering everything to his place. Until a few days ago, he got bored and we got lucky.” Ijichi paused himself on the update, realizing his mistake. “Although, the girl didn’t.”

Gojo’s usual playful energy escaped from the room at that moment. His expression turned flat, knowing what was to come. Another black file that was in Ijichi’s hand was then placed in front of him. Gojo didn’t notice it until now. 

He opened the folder. Like the others, the girl’s hair was dyed with highlights, this time they were red. Her face and body were cut up with a familiar pattern, shaped like stitches and seams. There was no DNA of his, only pools of her blood around her body, showing that she died of massive blood loss. Pictures of him leaving the abandoned building where her body was later found followed. 

After letting Gojo examine the pictures and reports from Kaisen and the police, Ijichi continued on. “Once her body was found, he didn’t want to wait. Maybe he is on some sort of kill high but last night we found him bringing plastic sheeting and rope he got delivered to his place to another building. He may still already have the scalpel that he’s been using to go at it again tonight.”

The contractor hummed in his seat while he pushed his hands in his pocket and dipped his head. He thought in silence for a moment, confirming what he came up with before. He already knew how he was going to handle Mahito.

“Okay, sounds like a plan.” He wanted to mess with Ijichi one more time before he left the office and said no more. 

The suited man stood in front of the grey desk in silence waiting for Gojo to say something else. No answer.

A minute passed before Gojo collected both folders and tried to give them to his friend. He wouldn’t take them.

Satoru pouted before giving in, his goofy mannerisms coming back like a switch. He was a killer, but silly at heart. He groaned as if this was his second time explaining what he wanted to do. “Keep your men on him for the next twenty-four hours. I have to pick up Megumi from school, but I’ll see him if Geto can watch him tonight. I’ll check him out after lunch but bring me the building address on a sticky note by then. He’ll be gone by the morning. And only him.”

Ijichi was content with that answer yet didn’t leave the room. He wanted to know how Fushiguro was doing, after all, he was close with Tojii too when he was here.

Gojo looked at him from his computer and laughed a bit. “Megumi’s doing well. Don’t worry, he’s doing better in school than I ever did. He’s even made friends.” He saw the surprised look on Ijichi’s face and corrected himself. “Or other kids made friends with him.”

Kiyotaka was finally happy with the exchange of information and left the office without another word. Gojo shrugged on and continued his day with his own thoughts on the Mahito case.

He was acquitted after circumstantial evidence, unreliable witnesses, and no murder weapon was presented at trial. After a while, the body count leaked, pressuring the government to try and close the case as quickly as possible, but ended up letting a guilty man walk free. Kaizen kept tabs on him from the first moment his name popped up in the suspect pool. So did Gojo.

He was looking forward to this moment, not caring to admit it or not. He thought a lot about what he would do if it was Mahito, not having a good feeling about him from the start. By lunch, Gojo didn’t care much to think about how he would kill him, knowing no matter what way he chose, Mojito was going to die while looking into his eyes. 

Once he thought it was a good time, Gojo left the office (with the sticky note) to wait for Geto, driving to lunch together to meet with Nanami. Updating each other on their upcoming weekend plans, Geto agreed to watch Fushiguro that night. He sometimes thought the kid liked to have him around when Gojo was busy. Probably because he didn’t bother him like the way his guardian did on a daily basis. 

The place Nanami chose was quiet in order not to overwhelm any of them. When Gojo and Geto walked in, Nanami had already ordered food for them. He couldn’t wait if he ever wanted to keep to his schedule, yet he never minded having lunch with the pair. 

While they spoke and ate, all three men avoided the topic of work. They all agreed before Toji left that if they wanted to hang out with Megumi, they had to learn to not talk about their cases outside of the office and to have regular conversations. It helped them normalize their lives in a way, not everyone in the world was like them nor saw the things they did. It wasn’t difficult for any of them, but Gojo did have something that he thought was going to be odd to talk about. 

The empty feeling in the pit of his heart hadn’t gone away and he didn’t know what was wrong. He’s felt it before and the pit only grew more hollow as the days passed by. Day after day, the same routine. 

Looking at Nanami’s watch across the table, Gojo had to say something before his friends left. They were going to drive back to the office together while Gojo would surveillance Mahito and pick up Megumi later. 

“Do you guys ever get bored?” He didn’t have a better way to put the feeling into words. 

Both Geto and Nanami looked at him but Geto was the first to speak, “Of you? Of course.”

Satoru nudged his friend in the ribs with his elbow before replying in the same manner, “You could never get tired of me Suguru.”

Nanami across the table looked at the time and sat back finishing his drink. He had a few more minutes, “Bored of what?”

Gojo and Geto were still exchanging elbows when they heard Nanami’s question. Gojo stopped to focus, letting Geto get the last elbow in. 

“Of this, everything. The same routine day in and out. Its starting to get exhausting.” Not only exhausting, but the rut in his chest and head was starting to bum him out. He found it rather annoying. 

“...does this have to do with Fushiguro?” Nanami was almost hesitant to ask the question, afraid to hear his friend’s answer. He had hopes that Gojo would mature with Megumi in his guard and he saw this happen since the child started living with him. But that didn’t mean Gojo couldn’t just one day feel like he wasn’t up for it anymore.

The lean man shook his head immediately, “No, nothing. Things are fine with Megumi.” He paused in thought before giving his friends (and himself) an honest answer. “It's the things in between. There’s always the same next thing to do. I think Megumi felt the same before the start of the school year, until he became friends with that Itadori kid.”

Kento Nanami and Suguru Geto both stayed silent after hearing their friend’s confession. Truth be told, they didn’t know what to say to Satoru. Both men had the freedom and time availability to live the life they wanted, do the things they would want to do if they were in his headspace. But they listened and were sensible, they knew Satoru would only come to them for this.

After another moment, Geto raised his eyebrows in realization and exchanged a look with Nanami, the blonde man knitting his brows in confusion. Geto was signing the check for their lunch when he gave his thoughts, “Maybe you need to find a friend too.”

Nanami shook his head at the idea while Gojo shot his head to the brunette. He thought of this before but he didn’t think it was a good idea to add something, or someone, to his and Fushiguro’s schedule.

When Gojo said nothing, Geto kept going. “I’m not saying get married and tell them what you do. You don’t want to scare them. But maybe you should find someone for those in between moments, someone to look forward to until the next time.” 

“And if I am bored with them too?” That was rhetorical, they all knew Gojo could get someone if he wanted to, only thing was that he never did. Fushiguro was his first priority and he couldn’t bring just anyone home. The idea of bringing a stranger home made Gojo shift in his seat.

It was like Kento could read his mind when he spoke, “It may not be practical to find a person because you’re…bored, but it is reasonable. In time, Fushiguro will start middle school and will want to be with his friends more. By that time, you may need to find something to busy your time with as well. I agree with Suguru, but start slow. Be careful with bringing someone into a child’s life.”

If Geto and Gojo didn’t know who Nanami was, they would think that it was rude or weird that he looked at his watch a lot. Though, they knew he was only being precise and when he arose from his seat unannounced, they weren’t surprised either. 

The three of them walked out the restaurant to the work cars that were parked next to each other. Gojo stayed silent the whole walk. It was a short moment but still it worried Geto, making him want to help his friend further.

“How about this? I will pick up Megumi today so you can go to a bar or something. When was the last time you went out?” He leaned against the passenger side of the black car, Nanami silently groaning from impatience. 

“Going to a bar by myself to pick someone up sounds like the worst idea I could do.” Gojo preferred clubs to bars before he had Fushiguro in his custody. Yet, he never really missed it or had an urge to go. I’ll live.

Geto got in the car with Nanami putting their windows down to finish the conversation. Before they pulled away with no bid of goodbye, Geto secured his offer, “Either way, I will pick up Megumi from school so you can have time to yourself until tomorrow. You should be able to think of something to do with yourself by then.”

As Gojo got in the car and drove, he thought about what his friends said. He couldn’t really imagine getting involved with someone right now, or ever really. It didn’t seem right to bring anyone in his life with the amount of danger he faces, or the amount of danger he makes others face. 

What if I tell them what I do and they think I’m a monster? That would suck.

What if I bring someone home and they hurt Megumi? Poor kid already lost his dad, and I can’t let him get hurt again.

On the way to Mahito’s, Gojo kept his windows in his own car down to distract him from these thoughts and the dullness growing in his gut. He started thinking about his afternoon work plans when he pulled to a stop at a pedestrian walk, focusing on his mental to do list.

Park 2 streets away. His studio is crammed low on the street so I’ll pick the same shop from last time. The girl at the counter likes me so she’ll let me stay as long as I need. Mahito will leave for class at 14:00, taking the-

Satoru stopped thinking. He couldn’t at all. It was like he didn’t have power over anything in his body except smell. It was a smell that made him stop everything. 

The light was still red and Gojo’s demeanor changed. His body stiffened, eyes going wide behind the sunglasses and head turning from one place to another to try and locate where it was coming from. The ambrosial smell was fresh and crisp, yet soft. But to Gojo, it was strong, so strong that it seemed to clear his sinuses. 

Water hyacinths? No that’s not it.

His nose flared with every inhale he took through his nose. It was addictive and he couldn’t get enough of it. He needed more. 

Lilies and mint? Where is it coming from?

His grip on the wheel tightened as he turned his attention to the people on the pedestrian walk. He inhaled through his mouth, wanting the smell to be deep inside his lungs, to imbed inside his capillaries and blood vessels, spreading throughout his body. 

Lotus. Eucalyptus. A hint of baby wipes, soft clean cotton.

It was as if once his mind realized what it smelled like, it led him to you.

The sight of you was breathtaking. Gojo ended up replaying this moment in his head everyday for the rest of his life. The way you scurried across the white lines before the light could turn green made the corner of his lips turn up. You seemed in a rush, and it was the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He saw you rushing through the crowd of people in the street, your cheeks becoming flushed and a thin layer of sweat grew on your body. He could smell that too. 

You were long past the crosswalk when a car behind Gojo beeped at him. The light was green. 

Mahito can fucking wait.

[constantfragmentation]

HI FELLOW SILCO ENJOYER

What are your thoughts on the polycule theory of felicia-silco-vander? 👀

Whew... where to begin?

Fair warning, this is going to be a long assessment.

First off, I firmly believe (unless S2 Act 3 makes me eat my words), that the writers didn't realize Silco and Vander would become such popular characters. I don't think that was the plan. They were side characters meant to beef up the main stars Jinx and Vi. Rightly so. They were devised as parallels for Vi and Jinx throughout the story. And it was beautiful.

S1 was filled with little details that enhanced every part of the plot and character development through each act.

However, if S/V were so important, more care would have been put into their backstories, which have been kept pretty vague. And these so-called continuity mistakes/plotholes seem pretty big for a studio that has been meticulous in the details all through S1.

We meet Vander, who changes his life after seeing the kids lose their parents and adopts them. Vander is seen as the builder and leader of the Underground, and he seems to lead with the threat of who he used to be (until Sevika calls his ass out).

Silco is introduced as the mean baddie immediately via Vander/Benzo's conversation in E1.

"There's worse things than Enforcers out there. We both know that."

Then his full intro including an underground evil lair and mad scientist at the end of E1.

E2 leans into the same MO for Silco. Until finally coming to the best episode (IMO) in all of S1 and it's E3, where things come to light. But he's still evil, vicious and spares no one. Silco appears to have zero empathy and is filled with a deep seeded hate.

"Silco?! You animal! Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of!"

S1E1-3 Silco completely paints him as terrible from the Underground's perspective. Silco - bad. Vander - good. Both Vander and Benzo see Silco as a dangerous threat. So does the rest of the Underground feel the same? Do they know about what happened to Silco by Vander's hands? Sevika chooses him because she lost faith in Vander as a leader.

So, that makes me wonder if Silco WAS the brains behind everything from their smuggling business and building up the Underground to the rebellion. Vander on his own, seemingly, isn't shit. He is the muscle. WIthout the brains, he doesn't haven much in planning so he turns to making a deal with Enforcers instead.

By S1E3, we start to see beyond the veil a bit. Vander tried to drown and murder Silco. Let's remember one thing. Vander didn't just try to shoot Silco or they got into a fist fight and things got out of hand.

He tried to DROWN him. There's no way Silco went with Vander to the river fearing his life. Now, whether they went to talk in private and it got heated, you still have to sit back and look at Young!Vander and think wtf?

He is painted the good guy from the beginning. A man with restraint and compassion, looking out for everyone and especially his 'kids'.

It takes will and strength to smother/drown a person. It is NOT a quick death, it's a slow and painful death. Vander's intent was to kill him. Not once, did Vander think in the minutes holding Silco underwater that damn, this is wrong or overkill? You don't flippantly say "I'll never forgive myself" for trying to murder you slowly. Now beating the shit out of him and ruining his eye, yeah, that would make more sense from Vander, knowing he probably turned Silco into this worse person and fucked up his face, vision forever.

The viewer is left to assume it was something so fucking bad, Vander had to kill to stop it. Plus, Silco is already painted as the bad guy, so we presume Vander was right in trying to kill him?

So, what was so bad that this course of action was required? Well, it's pretty damn vague. In all of E3, Felicia isn't mentioned or hinted at ONCE. Not once. If Vander tried to kill Silco because of her, why do we not learn about any of it?? That seems like a pretty important fact, yes? This is Vi/Jinx's mom and she was a close friend? I'd say that's important.

Nope. Silco drags Vander to his lair and waxes on about fighting Piltover and finally realizing his dream of a free Zaun by any means.

Vander tells Silco he's never forgiven himself for trying to kill him, but nothing else is added to it? We're left to believe that Silco was either too powerful and influential in Zaun or that he orchestrated the bridge fight (that Vander was still fighting until the kids arrive and they see their dead parents).

This grey area is why the fandom has spent years trying to decipher what was so bad that it tore two brothers apart with attempted murder.

We learn in S2, Vander apparently "looked everywhere" for Silco and then wrote him a letter in a mine, hoping Silco might come across it. Well, if your brother tried to murder you, I'd say you would stay far away from him and not venture to old places in case he might try it again? Sounds reasonable, yes?

So Vander just gave up trying to talk to Silco and explain everything for YEARS? By S1E1 he and Benzo know about Silco and probably know where he is and that he's up to no good obviously. So why haven't they talked once in years?

Vander said he was in a rage over Felicia's death. But I'm sorry, none of that makes much sense and frankly takes the fire out of what created the fracture between two friends.

I would have preferred Riot not explain than give us a half-assed backstory of three happy-go-lucky buddies and the death of one is the backbone of hate, distrust and betrayal.

Again, Silco said Vander BETRAYED him. If they were arguing about Felicia and her partner dying, leaving kids orphaned, I don't call that betrayal. Vander's letter sounds like an argument that got out of hand. You don't just accidentally drown your best friend for the greater good because your other friend died in a fight ALL of you were fighting. You knew people would get hurt and/or die. It's reality.

It just doesn't FIT. It doesn't fit these characters at all in the narrative from S1.

Another reason I believe Riot never intended to go further with Silco and Vander's backstory is in the animation. Like I said above, S1 was littered with little and amazing details that we, as the viewer, have been analyzing for years.

The drowning was a VERY young Silco and Vander. Vander clearly has a beard and looks much older on the bridge in E1. The flashback in E3 looks like it was 10 years earlier at LEAST. That would be around the time Vi was born or a toddler if we're estimating her age by S1E1 on the bridge.

Vander beat the shit out of him and then decided to kill him by drowning. THAT is a major choice to make. That is a vicious choice. So we do see Vander as being more violent in his youth. So if the drowning came AFTER the bridge, that also doesn't quite fit either. He takes the kids and chooses pacifism, yet soon after, he's murdering his best friend. AND he suddenly shaved and grew younger, because he wanted to look clean and pretty before killing his bestie?

Zero continuity here. Bad writing. If there was mistake due to animation, they should have changed the backstory to fit than ramrod something else that looks badly done and makes zero sense to your audience.

Personally, I wish the drowning was PRIOR to the bridge battle.

It would make more sense if Vander was having second thoughts while planning the bridge fight. Maybe a separate attack went wrong and he realized they were going to lose and many would die. Silco, maybe having more influence or threatening to show Vander as a coward to the people is what finally triggers Vander to kill him. In order to stop this, Silco needs to die and then maybe Vander can convince others the fight is already lost against a superior firepower.

To kill Silco in that manner, signals to me, Silco was a great threat. Which means to me, Vander either felt he was a threat to him (since Vander does become the power in the Underground - the Hound) or he is beginning to feel like this fight is pointless and will change nothing. People will die for nothing.

Making it all about Felicia, just takes the fire out of rift between these two men all these years.

Again, she's never mentioned.

Silco even reflects in S1E3 that he still respected Vander after the drowning until he learned Vander was working with Enforcers and basically made a deal with Topside to keep the peace. That continues his pathway as a rebel and he's going to take down Vander with it or use him "what you really are".

Silco knows how violent Vander was and he's going to use it with Shimmer.

If we go by S2 timeline, then both Silco and Vander would know Felicia's kids well before the bridge battle. in S1, Silco would know who Vi is, at least and be aware of Powder. He would know this by S1E3 when he says "Have you heard the rumour? Vander the coward fled town with his children and were never seen again."

Pretty callous talking about his other bestie's kids like that. Damn. If Silco cared for her, then wouldn't he spare her kids? I just don't see this was ever about Felicia. It doesn't fit. He really didn't flinch in having Vi or any of the kids killed. HER kids? I'm having a hard time with that one.

I've said before that in Silco's eyes, Vi is an extension of Vander. When he finds Powder and she cuts off Vi as her sister, Jinx becomes an extension of himself, thus HIS daughter. It's like Silco's last "fuck you" to Vander by taking Felicia's other daughter as his own.

Overall, I hope to hell it's not some love triangle. Or either man was in love or had a crush on her.

I read some fans saying since the flashbacks are Vander's in S2, we're seeing things from his perspective. I'm all for an unreliable narrator with characters because it keeps things open for interpretation.

But we would need to see this from Silco's perspective, too—not just the drowning/betrayal. Silco sees this as a major factor in the direction his character takes. It's a life-changing moment for him.

We also don't see any flashbacks to the years Silco took care of Jinx after Vander's death. If he knew Jinx's mom, wouldn't that come up? Wouldn't that be something Jinx would remember and influence her?

In S2, she reminisces a few memories of her mom like nothing has happened since. She and Vi act like nothing really happened between them. By the end of S1, the sisters diverge when Jinx decides who she will be. It's Jinx, not Powder. She knows Silco loved her and, more importantly, accepted her for who she was. She was perfect in his eyes.

Plus, Vander's trio flashback seems odd in both animation and backstory choices. Silco looks VERY different than his flashback of the drowning. His hair is much longer (man bun), he has a widow's peak he doesn't have later (weird). He appears to care for Felicia and happy for her being a mom. They made him more physically attractive and older than the flashback in S1E3.

Vander doesn't look like the younger version in Silco's drowning flashback. He looks older too. Animation choices were made that don't match the continuity of the previous season.

We're assuming their smuggling business is doing well if Felicia talks about the Underground being much better for everyone. Are we still giving Vander full credit for that? S1 implies Vander built the Underground both from Grayson and Zaunites.

Silco jokes he is "Bozo #1". To me, he is joking but not in saying he's the mastermind in this duo. Without him, Vander's just a brute.

I'm not sure of Vi's age by S1E1, but maybe she's 10 or 12? So prior to the battle unless a fallout happened with Vander and Silco, why don't we see Silco with the kids? Why do the kids act like they don't know him? If they were such a tight trio with Felicia, why only Vander with the kids?

He fought at the bridge knowing Felicia had two young kids that could be orphaned and was still fighting when the kids showed up. He already knew Felicia was dead but was still fighting.

If her death was too much, why didn't he stop then? The kids appreance stopped him. Okay. I get that. But we don't see Silco anywhere on that bridge, does he know she dead? Is he still fighting? Where is he?

This whole polycule feels like they had to throw it in somewhere but didn't adequately explain it to match the motivations of the characters we have known and studied. It opens more plothole questions than it answers. It creates more problems that did not need to be there.

If Felicia wasn't that important to expand on last season, why do it now and do it poorly that contradicts characterizations already laid down in the whole previous season?

I'll say it again and again: Riot did not plan for it. They didn't think Vander and especially Silco would be so popular, and fans would demand to know more about them.

Plus, another thing that kind of bugged me:

When Vi is embracing Warwick/Vander and tells Jinx "He's your dad too."

Yeah, it's a nice moment, but it's a shit on Silco too. Technically, didn't JInx have more years with Silco than Vander? She saw Silco as her father (although not the best), accepted her, encouraged her skills, gave her important jobs, wouldn't give her up and called her perfect in his dying words.

I guess fuck that dad, right? He is evil dad and now he's dead, doesn't matter anymore.

Did anyone else feel like Jinx turned back into Powder this season? The kicker in S1, is that she CHOSE to be Jinx. IDK. The sisters were real quick to hook back up after everything.

As I've said before, they needed maybe three seasons if they were going this route. No character is getting enough time this season for good story-telling and character development. Too much is getting crammed in one season and it's sad because there is SO much story to work with.

I, for one, would watch another season of these characters. You could take time to explain the Black Rose and Mel's story. Ekko has nothing this season. Jayce doesn't have much. There's very little explaining and too many new questions that won't get answered in one season.

Vi became an Enforcer for half a second. Granted Caitvi only knew each other for maybe a week so for their 'relationship' to fall apart doesn't surprise me. But Cait bouncing back and forth. Jinx bouncing back immediately after Silco's death doesn't make sense since he wasn't the cause of her mental illness.

"Silco didn't create Jinx. You did."

Sister's bond quickly like nothing happened between them. Sevika is suddenly on Jinx's side with little work considering they disliked each so much.

Intro of a new character, Isha.

Viktor turns into Jesus and hangs out in the Big Bang with Sky. I was waiting for Machine Herald and got Jesus Herald.

Ambessa could have a better story but again, I think they needed at least one more season to flesh everything out. It's all too fast and packing way too much into one season of plot for so many characters. The sister's reunion is too fast. We don't get enough info on Warwick yet.

I hope, but they can't tie all this up in three more episodes.

Sorry for the mental vomit, but I've been thinking about this all week, and now it's out like verbal diarrhea. Even though I've enjoyed this season, I can't help but feel disappointed. S1 was so much better.

[skellymom]

"AMBER EYES"

Bad Batch TECH Fan Ficlet x READER

A story of HOPE for Tech Fan's: Resident of Pabu unlocks a secret even THEY weren't aware they had access to!

(Credit: Pinterest Bad Batch, Saphira Laufens, Dividers @saradika)

Word Count: 475

Rated: SAFE for EVERYONE! ENJOY!!!

“Can you hold this for a minute?” 

Omega handed me her brother’s goggles while she wiped down the shelf they would be resting upon in the Archium. 

Clean up and repairs to the island and the artifacts museum were underway after the Empire had left the planet of Pabu...and when the clones returned. 

They helped the residents of the island put their lives back together.

We helped them find a better life here. 

Crosshair was the one to locate Tech’s goggles under some heavy rubble Wrecker lifted out of the way.  His eyes catching a glint of light reflected off the remaining amber glass of its lenses. 

I held the goggles, staring into what was left of that glass. 

Unfortunately, I came to the island after he perished on a distant planet.  Never got the chance to meet him. 

Pity that.   

I became close to his remaining brothers and sister.   

It started with Hunter.  According to him, he has enhanced senses.  I clocked him right away... 

Just a feeling.   

But that’s been most of my life.  Small snatches of intuition... 

Lucky guesses...they happen occasionally.  Fortuitous events that helped me navigate my life in this ever-changing galaxy. 

Wrecker’s strength, Crosshair’s eyesight, Omega’s empathy and strategy... 

And Tech’s superior intellect. 

We all have gifts. 

I lift the goggles up to stare through them as Tech would have done.  That amber glass captivating me... 

Hunters head snaps up quickly.  I can FEEL his stare. 

My hands suddenly go numb...like when cold wind rushes over them. 

The Archium’s walls dissolve into blue, cloudy skies and it handicaps my equilibrium... 

I trip and fall...hear Wrecker screaming... 

Down. 

Down. 

Down. 

A shattering impact.  I suddenly cannot see... 

Don’t know how long I was...GONE...but the feelings of being in my own body returns.  I’m cradled in the warm arms of Wrecker.  His face along with Hunter, Crosshair, and Omega’s hover over me as I lay on the floor. 

“What happened?” Crosshair’s expression is one of concern. 

I lift up the goggles, clutched TIGHTLY in my hand and gaze at the splintered amber lenses. 

“Tech.” is all I can muster. 

“Whatta’bout Tech?” Wrecker asks with trepidation. 

Staring into those lenses, I inhale and exhale.  I’m breathing...he’s breathing...WE are breathing simultaneously. 

“I...felt...FEEL HIM...he’s...ALIVE.”   

All eyes widen, then shift to their Sergeant. 

Hunter’s eyes discern SOMETHING...he doesn’t understand what.  But he believes what I’m saying.  Can read it in his expression. 

He then taps the comm on is wrist. “Havoc 5, do you copy?” 

Silence, then a grumpy voice answers back “I copy Havoc 1.” 

“Rendevous at our coordinates.  Recon mission for Havoc 2“ 

Stunned silence, then an excited reply “Enroute IMMEDIATELY Havoc 1!  Havoc 5 OUT!!!” 

“You’ll help us find..?” Hunter requests as he reaches for my hand. 

I grip it firmly with conviction. “Yes...look forward to FINALLY meeting him.” 

To read Chapter 2

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/767923139764207616/amber-eyes-chapter-2?source=share

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[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - Witcher Senses: Smell

Jaskier knows a great many things about Witchers, many of which are common knowledge, like their enhanced vision, strength, etc. Some are known only to him. For example, he is probably the only human being that knows Witchers pur, and like chin/cheek skritches. And catnip makes their pupils dilate and makes them see gods.

Jaskier doesn't count those as enhancements, they are more like bonus features.

Jaskier knows Geralt's sense of smell, like his hearing, is likewise far better than a human's.

Geralt can tell where he's been just by the scents he's picked up while on his outings in town.

Geralt: You're late. Stopped at Vespula's on the way back, didn't you?

Jaskier: *stammering, sputtering*

Geralt: You smell like laundry soap and hanky-panky

Jaskier: *offended bard noises*

He can tell when he is ill by his scent.

"You smell off."

"How rude!"

Geralt can tell what Jaskier got drunk off by the way his sweat smells as his body metabolizes the alcohol.

His nose is sensitive enough to pick up on Jaskier's moods by how his scent changes.

Having a sensitive sense of smell does have it's drawbacks. Strong smells are even more pungent. Smells like some of Jaskier's perfumes and scents. Sometimes the bard just uses way too much, or uses one that is just nauseating.

And of course, there's the embarrassing, uncontrollable reaction he has when he encounters an unfamiliar smell.

Jaskier got to see it for the first time one spring, and it was the funniest d*mn thing he'd seen in a while.

Jaskier met Geralt outside of Vengerberg. He'd hugged his companion, and was confused by Geralt's reaction.

Geralt: *smelling a new scent on Jaskier*

Geralt's brain: What's that smell? We haven't smelled that before. Time to analyze!

Geralt: *mouth open, upper lip raised*

Jaskier: What the f**k is that face?

Geralt: Hm! *awkward*

Sorry, I've just never seen you make that face before.

Geralt had given him The Look. The Look that meant he had just revealed something personal he had not wished to share, and that if Jaskier opened his mouth to ever mention it, he would be missing all his teeth.

"Is that a Geralt thing, or a Witcher thing?"

"Witcher" Geralt reluctantly grumbled, more embarrassed when he realized that he was sniffing Jaskier again.

Jaskier realized that Geralt was scenting the perfume he'd bought that morning at the market and decided to try out.

"It's my perfume." He supplied, " It's lavender and rosemary, with a little bergamot. It's not too strong, is it?"

"No. Just didn't recognize the scent combination..."

Jaskier hummed in understanding, promising that he would keep the secret of the Stink Face. He gleefully filed that information away. And Jaskier, being the little hellion is his, decides to find rare scent combinations to expose Geralt to.

For research purposes. Yeah. Purely for educational purposes.

It was hard to find smells that Geralt was unfamiliar with. He had lived a long time, and had a huge olfactory library of scents. He could tell monsters apart just from how their guts smelled.

Jaskier was going to have to try harder if he wanted to get Geralt to make what he'd dubbed the Stink Face again.

And he had to play it cool. Couldn't let the gloomy b**tard know what he was doing! Good thing Geralt was well aware of his love for fashionable toiletries!

Nothing to see here, folks, just a bard that loves his personal grooming items! Nothing suspicious going on here!

Jaskier begins visiting every market in every town they stop at, buying the latest toiletries, and trying them out in their rented room or at camp. Often times shoving the items under Geralt's nose to get his "opinion."

"Oh, that smells nice! Don't you think this smells nice, Geralt?"

Geralt: *Stink Face*

Jaskier *internally*: Haha, YES!

Jaskier *externally pretending not to have noticed*: What do you think?

Yes, it is a light, fresh scent! I agree!

*offended gasp* What do you mean "Not strong enough to cover up the stink of my ball sweat"?

That was uncalled for, Geralt!

Geralt had just 'hmmed' smuggly and turned to finish brushing Roach.

The next item Jaskier had purchased had been a new scent that even he'd never smelled. It was lavender, mixed with something called 'vanilla'.

Ooh, lavendar and vanilla! Let's see what that smells like!

Oh. Oh, wow. *cough* That's a bit strong!

Whew! It's really, just wafting right out!

Geralt, clear on the other side of the camp: *instant Stink Face*

"What the f**k-!" He'd snarled after his brain had cataloged the smell

"It's got 'vanilla' in it," Jaskier explained, noting the frown on Geralt's face, "it's some kind of bean from across the sea! It smells sweet, right?"

"It's f***ing strong!"

Jaskier, for some reason, was mildly offended at the comment, and quipped "Haha, yeah, I figured I needed something strong enough to cover up the stink of my ball sweat--!"

Geralt brandished the leather belt he used to tie up his bedroll, waving it threateningly.

Jaskier *grinning rakishly*: Ooh, are you threatening me with a good time?

Roach had made a sound that was suspiciously similar to a human chuckle, and Geralt had glowered at her.

Et tu, Roach?

He settles for slapping the bard on the back of the head.

Jaskier inadvertantly gets his revenge days later, and finds out another thing about Witchers. They hated citrus.

Geralt knows Jaskier has bought another bath product to try out when he comes up the stairs with the serving girls laden with the tub and buckets of hot water.

Geralt goes down to check on Roach while Jaskier bathes. When he comes back, ready to lie down and sleep, Jaskier is finished, and...

And the f**ker STINKS! It's got a very noticably citrus quality to it.

Jaskier: Geralt, what's wrong?

Geralt: *face twisting up*

Jaskier *trying not to laugh*: Er, Geralt?

Geralt: What the ever-loving f**k is that smell?

"It's the latest soap scent! It's orange blossom!

Geralt was not happy about the citrus scent. He hated the smell of citrus! And this little ar**hole had just bathed in the wretched stuff! The sweet smell of the vanilla couldn't keep the citrus tang from stinging his nostrils.

Geralt had opened the window, crawled into bed, and covered his nose with the blanket. He had to explain to the bard about Witchers hating citrus because it burned their sinuses.

Jaskier had had the decency to look ashamed, but even after profuse apologies had been made, Geralt had hissed at him and refused to allow him into the bed.

Jaskier ended up scrubbing himself down out in the laundry shed with hot water and plain, boring soap.

He was then subjected to a sniff test.

Jaskier: Did i get it all off?

Geralt,: *snuffling*

Jaskier: Do I pass?

"Hm." Geralt had grunted with a nod. "All i can smell is ball sweat."

*affronted bard noises*

[sonofhelios2005]

It's entirely the fault of Tumblr that i can't get the idea of Vampire!Charles out of my head. First, it's mentioned in a few posts, and then people keep posting fanart of Charles that looks very vampiric. And then ahyperactivehero starts writing "blessed be the boys time can't capture" an actual story which has Charles as a vampire but isn't entirely AU as it seems like they are still going to become detectives.

Charles being a vampire is just so interesting not just because he would have vastly different abilities but also because vampires always add a different sense of morality because they are predators, Charles would drink blood but would it be animal, human, magical synthetic? Would Charles be more willing to harm their enemies as a vampire? Would he occasionally kill enemies who go too far and won't retreat?

What abilities would Charles have? Depending on the media, vampires have vastly different powers. The common ones are enhanced strength and speed, senses, and reflexes. There are some many other shape-shifting, flight, telepathy, mind control, and blood magic. Charles having different abilities would also change how they operated as detectives. If Charles can't mirror travel, how would he follow Edwin, turn into a bat, and ride in Edwin's front pocket through the mirror? Perhaps vampires could have a method of teleportation like shadow travel.

Would Charles be able to wear his earring? Would he be vulnerable to religious iconography? Does it require the vampire to believe in the particular symbols. Sunlight is deadly to vampires, but can Charles use a tanning bed? Yes, he can, and he does just to annoy Edwin. Would Charles carry a welcome mat in his bag so he can get into other peoples houses without an invitation? Edwin would be extremely pissy if this worked because it won't make any sense. If Charles can't walk in sunlight how could they get around this for cases, An umbrella? Some vampires can influence the weather so Charles could make it cloud over whenever he needs.

On a darker note, if Charles ever lost control and killed someone, the level of drama and angst would be cosmic. Or if Charles became addicted to killing and he started hunting criminals to satisfy his bloodlust, then Edwin would have to stop him. Would Edwin be able to? Lock Charles up with blessed silver until he came to his senses?

[kathiraven]

Once upon a time, there was a powerful magician named Magnus. He lived alone in a grand castle atop a towering mountain, far away from prying eyes. One day, he decided to celebrate his birthday...

with a special spell. He conjured up a cake, candles flickering merrily, and a bottle of finest wine. The aroma filled the air, intoxicating and sweet. But then, something unexpected happened

As Magnus blew out the candles, wishing for a devoted servant, a blinding flash of light illuminated the room. When the glare subsided, standing before him was none other than the birthday man himself - transformed into Magnus' personal servant!

The man, now clad in simple robes, gazed around in confusion, trying to comprehend what had transpired. Magnus, amused by this twist of fate, welcomed his new servant with a mischievous chuckle. The former birthday man, now known as Servimus, quickly learned to navigate this strange new world, discovering hidden talents and strengths along the way.

The former birthday man, now known as Servimus, quickly learned to navigate this strange new world, discovering hidden talents and strengths along the way.

Intrigued by the possibilities, Magnus focused his attention on Servimus' attire. With a snap of his fingers, the servant's plain robes vanished, replaced by a stunning ensemble that accentuated his newly enhanced physique.A sleek, form-fitting suit of shimmering silk hugged Servimus' frame, emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean waist. The deep V-neckline revealed a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, tanned skin. The trousers clung to his muscular legs, tapering down to stylish boots adorned with gleaming buckles.The outfit was completed by a flowing cape, its edges trimmed with intricate embroidery that seemed to dance and shift in the light. Magnus admired his handiwork, pleased with how the garments highlighted Servimus' masculine beauty.Servimus, still adjusting to his new appearance, looked down at himself in wonder.

Magnus, seeing Servimus' discomfort, felt a pang of guilt. He did not want to force his new servant to live in a body that made him uncomfortable. So, with a gentle touch and a whisper of magic, he transformed Servimus back to his original self.But then, something wonderful happened. Servimus, now fully aware of his true feelings, embraced his newfound identity. He accepted his desires and the changes that came with them. And with Magnus' continued support and understanding, they forged a bond unlike any other – one based on mutual respect, trust, and love.

Yes, as Servimus grew more comfortable in his own skin, he began experimenting with different styles of clothing. He adopted the latest trends popular among the gay community, embracing the freedom and expression that fashion allowed.His wardrobe expanded to include tight jeans that showcased his well-toned legs, paired with snug tank tops that displayed his muscular arms. He also favored leather jackets, their supple texture contrasting against his smooth skin.And just like that, Servimus transformed not just physically but also sartorially, embodying the essence of modern gay fashion.

Magnus couldn't help but admire Servimus' bold new look. The way the tight clothes hugged every curve and contour of his servant's body sent shivers down the wizard's spine.Their interactions became charged with a newfound intimacy, their gazes lingering a moment too long, their touches tinged with a hint of longing. It was as if the very fabric of their relationship had been rewoven, the threads of affection and lust intertwined in a complex tapestry of emotions.One evening, as they sat together in the dimly lit library, Magnus found himself drawn to Servimus in a way he never had before. The fire crackling in the hearth cast flickering shadows across their faces, heightening the sense of forbidden allure.

 In the silence broken only by the soft rustle of pages turning and the crackling of the fire, Magnus leaned closer to Servimus, his breath warm against the servant's ear. Would you like me to show you another trick? he whispered, his voice low and husky.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 42)

The next few days were spent filling out paperwork, taking a few cognitive tests, and answering questions N was sure Khan already knew. Despite that, Khan had assured him multiple times that this was purely procedure, and he essentially had the job.

It was also spent worrying… each time he came home he'd been drawn to his girlfriend like a moth to a particularly purple flame, as soon as he was in range to hear her core, that warm haze would overtake him, and when he came back to his senses, he was already holding her no matter where she was, a chair, the couch, taking a nap, it did not matter.

It made sense… he loved her. He wanted to be close and it wasn't the closeness that worried him. It was the fact he wouldn't even remember how he ended up there that was the problem, he was walking through the doorway one moment, and curled up tightly against her the next.

He wasn't sure she remembered either, she would often seem to jolt “awake” around the same time as he did, then they'd look at each other, confused.

It was like a mandated cuddle session, and he didn't exactly mind, but some control over when and where would be great, thank you.

“So everything seems to be in order, last thing we need to do is put you through our basic training.” Khan’s voice finally cut through the TV static that was N's thoughts, all of his eyes suddenly focused on the man, which seemed to immediately trip Khan up, even if he wasn't consciously aware of the fact N had seven eyes.

“Basic Training?” He asked, quirking up an eyebrow, wasn't that reserved for stuff like the military?

“Yes! The WDF does more than watch over doors! We're the defacto police force for the colony, we keep an eye on everything! And we need to make sure you're in tip-top physical condition.”

Khan looked N up and down.

“And I tried to tell everyone it was functionally pointless… considering, but everyone wants to see you put through your paces, so thats what were going to do today!”

“Well, okay! I love doing anything?” N agreed, much like he did most of everything in his life, but he wasn't confident, wasn't this normally pretty hard?

“Great!”

Ten Minutes Later…

N was actually… kinda impressed at the obstacle course the WDF had for training, it had a climbing wall, a barbed wire crawl, tire steps, and a rope shimmy. Everything all about enhancing motor control and maneuverability, since strength and speed can't really be improved when you're made out of steel and hydraulic.

The room he'd been lead to was huge, the ceiling curving in a dome shape above them. A group of 20 or so people were on benches not too far away, all wearing WDF badges on different parts of their clothing. Khan led him to the starting line with a clipboard and a timer, looking excited himself.

“Alright! There is a benchmark of three minutes that you have to beat. But that should be no problem for you.”

“Ah… I have wings, should I…?”

“Oh! Yes it's probably best if you… refrain. Just to make it fair.”

Alright, no wings then.

He was nervous, genuinely. He'd never been through actual training before strangly enough. He'd just been… pre-programmed. Or re-programmed, with combat protocols innately.

While he was hunting, combat came naturally almost on autopilot, every sense heightened, reflex sharpened. He'd never enjoyed it, but he'd never had to think about it very hard either.

So, when it came to actually navigating through the course, he wasn't sure if he could without putting himself in ‘hunting mode’.

“Are you ready, son-in-law?”

He rolled his eyes before nodding, he got in a sprinters stance, surely this wouldn't be too hard right?

“Go!”

He shot off, legs beating underneath him as he came up to the tire steps, it felt strange, being bound to the ground instead of flying, and he felt way more clumsy this way then normal… oh well.

His systems charted the path for him, and his legs moved without putting in much conscious effort, then it was on to the barbed wire.

What once was a silent room seemed to fill with murmurs as he went, he threw himself onto his belly and scrambled underneath, he could feel the wire digging into the back of his coat, but he didn't slow down even as he started to sink into the mud.

He emerged out the other side filthy, but now came time to scale the wall, he had to will away the instinctual way his wings wanted to come out, he took a moment to pause, it was a sheer wooden wall, sanded down to remove any grooves or notches to climb up.

This was for workers.

How would a worker get over this?

How would Uzi get over this?

He took several steps backwards, taking a deep breath as his systems calculated his jump.

He got a running start as he pounced on the wall, and kept running, every servo in her legs keeping him upright as he ran up the wall and grabbed the top of it, before hoisting himself up. Murmurs turned to a few tentative cheers.

The final challenge, was a rope shimmy from the top of the wall to the finish line, he could jump down from this height no problem, but at this point, a part of him wanted to prove himself to both Khan and the rest of the WDF that he didn't need his “upgrades” to do this.

He wrapped himself around the rope, tail included, his weight had the rope sag and bend more then intended, which was an extra challenge as he climbed down, turned upside down.

At this point, he heard several whoops from the benches, making him smile despite the fact that his joints were getting a little sore from how quickly he'd been moving, he quickly shimmied down until he hit the final sprint to the finish line, where once again he put every once of power into his legs as he took off in a dead sprint, before he reached the finish line, where he had to dig his claws into the ground to slow down.

He panted, feeling his vents take in air so hard it was producing a low whine, his hands gripped his knees, he was muddy and gross and sweaty (why do robots sweat?!) And his breath was ragged, but he felt a hand slap his back.

“A minute fifteen! New record!” Khan said happily, looking like he had stars in his eyes, N smiled, his hair falling into his visor.

It was abundantly clear that his body had not been designed for anything but ambushing and flying, a more “death from above” then a persistence predator, because his joints were currently screaming “what the heck did you just do?!” at him. He wanted to sit down now…

“Great! U-uggh.” Khan led him over to a chair where he instantly collapsed in it, throwing his head back and not quite caring he was still covered in mud.

“Wow, that was kinda impressive.” A voice said, they were young whoever they were, a masculine voice that sounded like your typical dude-bro at the beach.

“Mm. Thanks.” N didn't have the energy to say anything else, thankfully he was quickly recovering.

Although he might recover faster if he could get a little bit of oil… he had brought it with him.

He put a hand in his pocket and fumbled with the container hidden there, the guy next to him continued speaking.

“N right? I'm Guy, I was the newest recruit before you. My time was 2:15.”

“Doesn't sound bad!” N replied, this guy was friendly at least, he could always get behind that.

He quickly took out his container and took a long gulp, the oil hitting his systems, immediately he felt better, his joints relaxing and his core settling, he sighed as he brought it away from his mouth, his long tongue coming to lick his lips from the access.

Huh… Guy had fallen real quiet all of the sudden

N looked back at the drone who'd been speaking to him, who's red eyes had gone hollow and his mouth slightly agape, N lifted an eyebrow before realizing why, he looked down at his container, slightly stained with oil, being quite obvious what was in it.

“Oh uh. Sorry… just started getting a little warm.” N tried to explain with a smile on his face, trying to be friendly but also succeeding in flashing his now oil-covered fangs.

Guy gulped.

“I-um yeah dude. N-no problem, guess you gotta kick the craving s-somehow.’

N looked confused for a moment.

“It's not really a craving, I just need it so I don't overheat.” He laughed nervously, sensing how tense the air had gotten. “Boiling in your own shell’s not fun.”

Guy was switching between curiosity and fear, tentatively, he seemed to choose between the two.

“What- what does it taste like?” He asked, still stammering but clearly not nearly as put off by it as before.

“The oil? Uh, sweet, this batch is a little earthy I guess, but that depends on where I get it from.”

The stuff in his container right now was actually from the nursery, it didn't taste nearly as metallic as oil from already living (or dead, he guessed) drones, instead having a more earthy, rounded taste.

He kinda preferred it honestly, plus, no one died for it.

“This is from the nursery, my girlfriend picked it up for me when she went for our daughter.”

Guy seemed to relax further.

“Oh, so it's not… you know?”

“N-no, I haven't killed anyone in… months.” He probably didn't need to add that last part, but he felt the need to defend himself, he really wished that people would stop looking at him and seeing… a monster. Even if he couldn't really blame them.

“Cool. Cool.” Guy replied awkwardly, before it seemed he had another question on his mind.

“How's that work?”

“How does what work?”

“You and a worker drone, is she like… pfft, okay?”

N… suddenly didn't like where this was going.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I mean, she's a worker drone right? Don't you have like… murdery instincts? Damn, if she can handle you, she's gotta be a freak in the sheets.”

N felt something white hot broil inside him until it's vitriol was bubbling in his throat, his hand twitched, and he just barely kept a feral growl from escaping his mouth.

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about Uzi that way.” He said, dripping with politeness even as his tail was slowly coiling like a snake, ready to sting the nosy drone if he didn't leave soon.

“Oh shit! Doorman? Damn I knew she was a freak, just didn't know it went that deep!” Guy laughed, N's eye twitched.

Kill him!Kill him! He's a threat! Kill him!

No. No. Don't kill him, do not kill him, you don't like killing, he's not being threatening, he's just being gross.

You must protect them! He speaks of her like she is not yours, kill him! Before he becomes a threat to the kit, to Uzi!

He closed his eyes, clenching his fist before letting his anger roll out of his mouth. Even so he still vibrated with it, unable to truly let it all wash over him.

He'd never felt more angry in his life.

“Guy. Do not talk about her like that.” He was far more firm the second time, his tail was fully coiled, pointed directly at the drones jugular although he didn't seem to notice.

“Ah right. Sorry, sorry, shouldn't talk about another dude's girl like that. My bad.” Guy lifted both his hands, clearly trying to appease him, N would feel more appeased if the man left him alone, preferably on another planet it possible.

“Guy! Get your ass over here before the new guy snaps your neck!” Another member of the WDF called him over, before the man in a yellow hard hat and pink eyelights made his way over to him.

“Sorry, Guy doesn't know when to shut his servo. I'm Hal, what did he say to you that got you looking like murder?”

“I'd… rather not repeat it. He insulted my girlfriend.”

“Oooh, he's lucky it wasn't me, if he'da insulted Reida I woulda rung his scrawny neck.” The drone had a fake, but beautiful beard attached to his face, it was brown, along with is decently long hair.

“Reida?”

“My wife.”

“Ah.”

“Your names N right? or is that a nickname for something?” He asked, he was rather blunt, but nothing about the drone was threatening, he was a boxier, thicker worker model, betraying his age to be closer of that to Khan’s.

“It's Serial Designation N, technically, but just N please.”

“Righto! Glad to have ya! Khan’s talked a lot about you!” His hand came to slap roughly on N's back, it was strong enough to rock him forward slightly and send mud flying in all directions.

“Really?”

“Aye, er well, he's talked nonstop about his grandaughter, and you come up too.”

“That… makes more sense.”

“That means you're with his daughter right? Uzi?”

“That's her.”

“Guy better watch it then, if Khan hears that he's gonna blow a gasket. An so will I to be frank, that girl don't need anymore grief.”

N liked Hal more the longer he talked, he also sounded like a dwarf from one of those movies he and Uzi watched… Lord of the Rings?

“Thank you. I didn't actually want to hurt him.” N said, sighing, he wanted to cover his visor with his hands; but then he'd just get his visor smudgy.

“Yeah ya did.”

“Uh-”

“Don't sweat it kid. We've all been there. Though…”

“Hmm?”

“My Reida woulda kicked his ass first! Hah!”

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