#its a rock that all it does is spew information

[arillustrated]

personally very excited for whatever autism rock is going to do for the misfits this season

[goszixx]

Can I take a look inside?

Note: I’m in love with this man

Warning: He calls you Mamas, oral female receiving, massages, he’s your boss, praising, in his office.

You could feel the sweat forming on your neck even in the cold air spewing out of the AC vent above you. You never understood why his office needed to be so cold. It’s not like it was hot outside either, just something the agent enjoyed. It’s not like you were able to question his methods. After all, he is Granger. One of the top agents in the organization, and your boss.

He batted his curled lashes at the report, dark eyes narrowing on on the letters marking the paper. Tan skin slid across the paper in hesitance, as if stuck on something. You assumed it was a typo and cursed yourself for it.

Whisky sat on his desk; a small portion settling in his custom made glass. “How does it look? I know we didn’t get the exact information you needed but…” trailing off, you hesitated to finish. The black office chair squeaked when your boss leaned back. A sigh left reddened lips. You couldn’t help your eyes tracing the perfect arch they made of the pretty point of his nose. His brows were thin, eyes narrowed.

It was best that you divert your attention to something else while he continued to read. The walls of his office were a pastel blue, his light born coat hung up in the corner of the room. His guns laid on the wall, along with a leather couch. Its pretty common for the agent to sleep in his office. From what you’ve heard, he rarely goes home.

“Thank you.” He mutters, eyes lifting to feel around your nervous frame. Awkwardly, you stood in front of him. He noticed how straight your back was and how your fingers picked at one another. “Is there something else you want to say?”

Sometimes it irked you how perceptive he was. “No.” Granger raised a brow at the slight hitch in your breath. Pushing his chair back slightly, he placed the report on his desk. He moved some other files over, creating a blank space on his desk. Leaning back in his chair, his hand ran through his mitched matched hair. It always seemed so fluffy, it almost made you jealous. “There is nothing else regarding the mis-“

“Then what is this about?” Granger cut off, nudging his chair farther back to create some room between him and his desk. His eyes lingered at the helm of your skirt to your exposed thighs. It was only for an instant, but you caught the glance. “It is nothing appropriate for a work setting.” Your voice came out in a shy manner. It bothered you how well the agent can thow you off your game. Even so, your face held straight.

“Sit.” He ordered, his chair rocking a bit from him adjusting. You hesitated, causing granger to raise a brow. “Can’t listen to your commanding officer?”

A lump built up in your throat. “That’s not it…” Painstakingly, you walked closer to his desk, taking a seat so you faced your commanding officer. Your thighs pressed tight together underneath your black skirt. Granger took his time taking in your position. Your hands held you up on the sides, one palm stuffed in the report you just gave him. The other gripped near the edge of the furniture; nails trying not to carve into the wood out of anticipation. “Are you tired?”

Granger watched your face, his hand reaching towards your exposed legs. He pulled one of your legs onto the arm of his chair. Rough hands caressed your smooth skin. The cold of the room contrasted with the warmth of the agent. His fingers worked into your calf before rubbing across your thigh. You couldn’t help but melt into the touch. “We are at work Granger.” You pushed out softly.

“No one will come in. Everyone is out for the day. Why don’t you tell me what happened, Mamas.”

The agent could feel you tense from the nickname, blush adding to your cheeks. His husk voice said it with ease no matter how embarrassed it made you. He switched focus, his hands moving to ease your other leg, spreading them in the process. “Did something happen on the mission?” He asked again. His eyes flickered to your blue panties, resisting the urge to take them off in a less appropriate fashion.

Lips pressed against the end of your thigh, large hands supporting the rest of the leg. The kisses persisted, getting slower and slower by the second. At one point, you wondered if Granger gave up on trying to get the information out of you. He seemed to just be enjoying your legs, the warmth, how soft they are. The smell of perfume stuck to your skin. It was sweet. “You smell how you taste.” He groaned, annoyed by how stubborn you were being.

Granger isn’t the type to let anger simmer. He rather everything be out in the open then be kept inside. “You had a mission with Silvana recently…” you started, blush adding to your cheeks. You refused to look Granger in the eyes as you utter your next words. “I got jealous.”

Silence. It would be a lie to say it didn’t make you anxious. Warmth left your legs slowly. They were placed gently back, hanging off the sides of his desk. The agent pushed back his chair. It thumped against the wall a bit. You slowly opened your eyes, surprised to see Granger on his knees, taking off his coat. He pulled the fabric off himself gingerly, his head tilted up to meet your wide eyes. “I can’t get this dirty but I need to show you there’s nothing to be jealous about.

Hands slid up your thighs, pulling you forward so his face was stuffed between them. The end of your skirt was bunched up by your waist, your pretty panties on full display. “Can I take a look inside?”

Teeth chewed at your lips as a finger pulled at the fabric of your underwear. Granger blinked a few times seeing the wet spot growing on the clothing. Once panties were off, an electric chill went down your spine. The sudden realization, of what is about to happen made you self conscious. Though, that feeling melted away when you you saw Granger bring your panties to his nose, taking a deep breath. The grip he had on your thigh tightened.

“Yes.” You whispered, eyes heavy as your boss ran kisses up your thighs. He put the panties in his lap as he focused on easing his hunger. “It was for a mission. You’re still mine Mamas, and I’m still yours.”

His wet tongue rubbed up and down your folds, gathering all the juices he could on his tongue. You couldn’t help but flinch when his nose bumped into your clit. Both of his hands adjusted your legs, making them draped over his shoulders. The movement made you struggle to balance. Granger gave a slow kiss on your clit before peeking up. “Squeeze your legs, no need to be shy.”

You did as told, pushing Granger onto your dripping cunt. The agent wasted no time picking up where he left off, leaving slow kisses on your clit. He sucked the bundle of nerves, his eyes closed and breathes heavy. Hands tugged into his hair when his tongue began to ease past your folds. He groaned, vibrating the skin. Between your soft hands tugging his fluffy hair and the moans coming from your lips, he couldn’t help the blood rushing to his cock.

Granger shifted slightly, wanting to focus his attention on you and you only. “There you go Mamas. Do you feel good?” The agents pushed his tongue past your fold again, this time repeating the action over and over. He was a starved man. How could he hold back when you make such beautiful noises?

“Yes, you feel so good Granger.” You cried, voice shaky as your legs squeezed him tighter. His hands massaged your thighs, making you flinch from the pleasure. They rubbed up and down your legs, easing you to take more of his tongue. His nose bumped against your throbbing clit; making you whine from the minimal friction.

Another whine came from your lips. You were trying your hardest not to pull his hair too hard from how good you felt. Wet noises corrupted the office, a small pop made it all stop when Granger removed his tongue. His head peaked up again, his lips red and covered in your sweetness. A goofy smile bloomed on the agents face. He was drunk off of you.

“Ready to come on my face, Mamas?”

It took you a moment to answer, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “Y-yes. Please Granger.” He didn’t need to be asked twice. The man gave slow kisses to your thighs again, pampering whatever skin he could get his hands on. He laid another kiss on your clit before rolling his tongue on the bud. His wet tongue slid across the nerves in a circular motion.

Granger kept his pace slow, wanting to feel you quiver against his tongue before speeding up. His lips curled from the fingers tightening in his hair. “Faster… fuck faster Granger.”

He did just that, his hands holding your thighs steady as his tongue worked you. Drool clung to your thighs as your cum coated his lips and nose. Granger helped your ride out your orgasm. His tongue slowing down on your clit before he laid kisses on your folds. You shifted uncomfortably, mewling from the overstimulation. “Grange-r-r…”

“I know, I know Mamas but let me clean up my mess. I can’t let your cum go to waste.”

[queen0fm0nsterz]

Kinda random, but if the characters are supposed to abstract while the series is running, I believe Kinger or will be last, or won't and will try to protect the others.

He is a king after all, the king is the last piece to be captured in chess. I think every character kinda fits a chess piece, but I don't have enough brain power to assign everyone.

I really enjoy this idea in a vacuum, but I think that in the context of the plot as we know it now it might be a bit of a reach. We will have to wait and see. However I am very happy you compared Kinger to the actual king in chess because I think his behaviour somewhat reflects what a king in a game of chess actually does.

((For those who don't know: I'm an aspiring chess nerd, and I have been learning how to play the game to the best of my abilities. Prepare for an infodump.))

A king in chess is the most important piece of the board when it comes to protection: losing your king means checkmate, a.k.a losing the game. At the beginning of the game, the king is surrounded by the rest of the chess pieces which act as his defensors. This reminded me a bit of how Kinger tries to constantly keep himself in a pillow fort in an attempt to self preservate.

When it comes to moves, the king is a bit peculiar. In spite of being so important, the king can only move a single square per turn; however, unlike most other pieces, it can move in all directions. Ironically, it has the same mobility of a pawn, but the ability to go everywhere of the queen.

Kinger himself is a bit of a nutcase. He is wildly unpredicatble (can move on all directions), sprewing out words of genius and genuinely insightful information while also acting completely nonsensical. Two sides of a guy... but the thing here is that he rarely takes action himself. The only instance of him truly deciding to do something besides keeping his fort was when he played rock paper scissors with Gangle. He moves with... caution is not the right words as I doubt he even is able of being cautios, but that's the sentiment; he can only "move" once, so he has to make it count.

An interesting detail about the chess piece is that it usually remains unmoved until the chess game enters its endgame stage. That would be when few pieces are on the board. Looking at the members of the current gang vs the many previous players seen on the crossed out doors, we can infer that at this current moment in time in the timeline the metaphorical endgame is taking place right now. And now, according to Jax, is when Kinger decides to start spewing out information about the digital world which he had never disclosed before. We don't know for certain if it was even a conscious decision, but it's certainly peculiar.

Concluding this with a bit of a sad thought: we all know that between those who have (presumably) Abstracted, there was another chess character by the name of "Queenie".

Due to her name and appearence, many have assumed that she and Kinger were formerly in close ties with one another possibly even prior to them entering the Digital Circus.

I think this headcanon has merit: they share a theme, appearence and the title of royalty, so why not assume a relation between the two? It'd be terribly sweet and tragic considering how she ends up...

However, I must point out something here that I haven't seen anyone bring up: Queenie is the black queen. Kinger is the white king. On the chessboard, they would be enemies, playing on opposite sides. With this in mind, I remember that the creator of the series said that there won't be any canonical ships in the show; with this knowledge, let's take this a step forward... what if the reason there won't be any relationship from an in-universe stand point is because the circus itself does not allow any deep interpersonal relationships?

Even if they were together prior to getting into the circus, Kinger and Queenie can't be together -- and this is reflected on their designs: king and queen on opposing teams.

And the Queen is a very active piece on the chessboard. I have no doubt that Queenie tried to figure out a way to escape and ended up Abstracted because of it. Mh... Since the queen is usually the one who targets the opposing king due to how powerful she is in chess... I wonder if Kinger got attacked by her when she abstracted, leaving him scarred - not so much physically, but definitely mentally.

[random2908]

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2023/05/11/trump-cnn-town-hall-how-to-host

I think tumblr's link function may be broken. And anyway the article is paywalled. So:

How to correctly host a town hall with Trump by Alexandra Petri

On Wednesday night, CNN hosted a town hall for Donald Trump, a man you might remember from his brief stint as president of the United States or the terrifying incident when he tried to overturn the results of the 2020 election. If the name still doesn’t ring a bell, he used to be on reality TV!

Well, CNN decided to host a town hall for him, and it is pretty universally agreed that the network did not do a good job. Which raises the question: How would you do it? Simple.

The first — and biggest — mistake CNN made was allowing Trump to have a microphone that was turned on. That way, when he tried to talk over the moderator, mock E. Jean Carroll and spew wild lies about abortion, people could hear him. This was bad. If they had followed the simple protocol of not letting him have a microphone, everyone would have seen his lips moving but heard nothing. Possibly a long, faint, high-pitched whine, like a mosquito.

Indeed, this is optimal: a microphone that is not off, but broken in such a way that you hear something, a horrible high whistling noise that you want to shut off at any cost. That way, instead of laughing gruesomely along with him, the audience would have covered their ears and screamed, “No more! No more of whatever this is!” The only downside of this is we would not have learned that he wants to default on the debt for no clear reason, but that is the kind of information he was bound to share in another venue.

Broadly speaking, any format where you allow him to talk is bad. It is okay if he can nod or point, although you should be vigilant about the kinds of signs that the audience can bring with them so that he cannot put together a nasty sentence by pointing slowly at words in turn.

Actually, another mistake was having an audience, especially one with questions like, “I worry about all the deaths due to gun violence. I worry they might inconvenience me as a gun owner.” I know what you will say — televising it at all was the big mistake, but if you’re going to do it, you might as well have an audience in the room! But every little bit of audience you don’t let Donald Trump have helps!

Another mistake was having the debate in the venue where it was held, as opposed to a soundproof vault two miles underground! The best vault would be one from which no noise could be heard by viewers or even those walking above. You have to think about these things in advance!

CNN probably thought, “We have a perfectly nice New Hampshire location here, and we can probably tape it there just fine.” But consider: The walls of that venue are not miles thick and made entirely of granite, nor do they sometimes pulse as though something unthinkably vast and impossibly alive is swallowing a meal. Nor do you sometimes hear a rustling and not know what that rustling is, nor is the only way out by passing through a long, damp corridor (But how can it be damp? The walls are rock!) in which your voice should echo but all you hear is silence, or an echo almost a minute later that does not sound quite like your own voice. That is the optimal venue for a Trump town hall.

Another mistake was not having the moderator sit at a desk where she could push a button at any point to open a small portcullis, from which the Thing — the true possessor of the cave, something pus-white and slimily dripping with jaws of enormous size — might roll and ooze its way toward the stage, causing all those who saw it to vomit with terror.

Also, instead of having Trump answer questions like, “Why should Americans put you back in the White House?” they should have made him answer questions like, “Will you be fighting the Thing with a trident or with a net?” And then, instead of letting him talk over the moderator and not answer the question, they should have given him a net or a trident as he chose, and pressed a small button on the wall to admit the Thing. Then, instead of everyone being terrified by how woefully unprepared the news media is for another election cycle with Trump in it, they could be terrified by the noises that the Thing emitted.

Another mistake was ending after the time had elapsed instead of when all the lights flickered suddenly and went out, driving the moderator and crew to rush for the only elevator to the surface and leaving Trump alone with — we cannot say what, exactly. It is too familiar to be a nightmare. Something ancient, and alive, and hungry.

All you have to do is follow those simple instructions and your Trump town hall should be a great success!

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Resident: Talonpaw

Aliases / Nicknames: Little Light, Precious son, Darling Dear

Gender: tom

Sexuality: homosexual

Family: Sorrelhare (mother), Greystrike (father), Ferretkit (brother)

Other Relations: unnamed mentor

Clan: WindClan

Rank: apprentice

Characteristics: has trouble identifying and controlling his emotions, impulsive

Murder Motive: wanting to be seen for who he really was

Number of Victims: 2

Number of Murders: 1

Murder Method: neglecting help, pushing over a cliff

Known Victims: Greystrike, Sorrelhare

Victim Profile: his parents, cats that don't love him

Cause of Death: killed by a fox

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story: 

Talonscar knew from a young age that he was unloved.

He knew it as soon as was old enough to understand why his father left to patrol so often, why his mother looked to him like he was her whole world.

That sounds strange, doesn't it? If he was unloved, why would his mother look at him like he's her everything?

Because it's a lie.

Before Talonkit came Ferretkit, his brother who died of sickness before Talonkit was born. The two looked so much alike--they were blood, after all. That similarity warmed Sorrelhare's heart. She felt like her dead son was back again.

It wasn't Talonkit she saw. It was never him. Only Ferretkit.

Greystrike saw the similarity too, which is why it pained him so much to see his new son, and why he avoided the nursery as much as he possibly could.

All they ever saw in him was what he wasn't--a dead kit he never even met.

It's hard to feel love when no one really felt it towards you.

Talonkit spent more than a few attempts trying to get the attention of his father, trying to impress him with how he caught mossballs or was the fastest to find everyone in hide-and-seek.

But Greystrike's smile--when it was offered at all--would be weak and quick to fade.

With his mother, Talonkit tried so hard to be scolded. He would hurt other kits, try to sneak out, tear up his nest. He wanted Sorrelhare to see him for who he was, not this perfect thing she was pretending him to be to make her feel better.

It never worked. Nothing ever worked.

Talonpaw was empty. How can you feel, how can you be at all, when all you're ever meant to be is someone who is dead. What does his emotions matter? What do his actions matter?

Of course the first time Greystrike bothered to talk to his son in three moons was when he needed help. They were patrolling together--Greystrike spewing some nonsense about how it was time they tried to bond.

Heartless excuse for a father should have tried that while Talonpaw was still in the nursery! For seven moons, he acted like Talonpaw was poison, and now he expected that all to be forgiven and forgotten?

But before Talonpaw could snap, a snake did the job for him. Greystrike had writhed on the ground, begging his son to go get help.

Talonpaw, frozen, could do nothing but stand and stare. His father's eyes widened at his inaction, but still Talonpaw only stood until at last his father's movements stilled to a complete stop.

As Talonpaw returned to camp without a word and curled up in his nest, his shock thawed to a dark glee.

At last Greystrike saw Talonpaw for who he really was.

It was about time his mother saw him too, wasn't it?

It wasn't hard to get her to follow him out of camp for a nice mother-son stroll. She would do anything to spend time with her Ferretkit. When they climbed up the rocky plateau and he told her to look at the view below, she did just that--and shrieked when suddenly there was no rocks beneath her at all.

If it had been any other day, he would have returned back to camp, trained for more moons, earned his warrior name, and moved on with a life that was now freely and completely his.

But not this day, because this day a fox had made its home on the moors.

Additional Information: 

--Talonpaw CAN feel emotions, but due to it not mattering what he felt or did for the longest time, he has trouble identifying what emotions he's feeling and how he can control them, which leads him to being impulsive a lot.

--This wasn't just want he thought! Greystrike DID ignore him because all he saw was Ferretkit, and Sorrelhare DID only see her other son in him.

--I'm pretty sure this was inspired by another story? But for the life of me I cannot find it, and it's been forever since I've seen it so I'm not even sure if it's actually based on anything. So if you find a story that seems similar, let me know so I can check! maybe it'll jog my memory lol.

[captainmdhridoyhossain-blog]

[ad_1] The asteroid 16 Psyche, which NASA intends to seek advice from with a spacecraft in 2026, could also be much less heavy steel and extra arduous rock than scientists have surmised, in step with a brand new find out about via researchers from Brown and Purdue universities. Psyche, which orbits the solar within the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, is the biggest of the M-type asteroids, which can be composed mainly of iron and nickel versus the silicate rocks that make up maximum different asteroids. But if considered from Earth, Psyche sends combined indicators about its composition. The sunshine it displays tells scientists that the skin is certainly most commonly steel. That has resulted in conjecture that Psyche could also be the uncovered iron core of a primordial planetary frame -- one whose rocky crust and mantle have been blasted away via an historic collision. On the other hand, measurements of Psyche's mass and density inform a distinct tale. The best way its gravity tugs on neighboring our bodies means that Psyche is a long way much less dense than an enormous hunk of iron will have to be. So if Psyche is certainly all steel, it will should be extremely porous -- a little like an enormous ball of metal wool with just about equivalent portions void house and forged steel. "What we would have liked to do with this find out about used to be see whether or not it used to be conceivable for an iron frame the dimensions of Psyche to take care of that near-50% porosity," stated Fiona Nichols-Fleming, a Ph.D. scholar at Brown and find out about's lead writer. "We discovered that it is impossible." For the find out about, revealed in Geophysical Analysis Letters, Nichols-Fleming labored with Alex Evans, an assistant professor at Brown, and Purdue professors Brandon Johnson and Michael Sori. The staff created a pc fashion, in response to identified thermal homes of steel iron, to estimate how the porosity of a big iron frame would evolve through the years. The fashion displays that to stay extremely porous, Psyche's inner temperature must cool under 800 Kelvin very in a while after its formation. At temperatures above that, iron would were so malleable that Psyche's personal gravity would have collapsed lots of the pore house inside its bulk. According to what is understood about stipulations within the early sun gadget, the researchers say, it is extraordinarily not likely that a frame of Psyche's measurement -- about 140 miles in diameter -- will have cooled so briefly. As well as, any match that can have added porosity to Psyche after its formation -- a large affect, as an example -- would most probably have additionally heated Psyche again up above 800 Okay. So any newly offered porosity would were not likely to final. Taken in combination, the consequences counsel that Psyche almost certainly is not a porous, all-iron frame, the researchers conclude. Much more likely, it is harboring a hidden rocky element that drives its density down. But when Psyche does have a rocky element, why does its floor glance so steel when considered from Earth? There are few conceivable explanations, the researchers say. A kind of probabilities is ferrovolcanism -- iron-spewing volcanoes. It is conceivable, the researchers say, that Psyche is in fact a differentiated frame with a rocky mantle and an iron core. However in style ferrovolcanic process will have introduced huge quantities of Psyche's core as much as the skin, placing an iron coating atop its rocky mantle. Prior analysis via Johnson and Evans has proven that ferrovolcanism is conceivable on a frame like Psyche. Regardless of the case, scientists will quickly get a far clearer image of this mysterious asteroid. Later this 12 months, NASA plans to release a spacecraft that may rendezvous with Psyche after a four-year adventure to the asteroid belt. "The undertaking is thrilling as a result of Psyche is this sort of ordinary and mysterious factor," Nichols-Fleming stated.

"So the rest the undertaking unearths will probably be truly vital new information issues for the sun gadget." Tale Supply: Materials supplied via Brown University. Observe: Content material could also be edited for taste and duration. [ad_2] #Psyche #iron #large #asteroids #iron #researchers #idea #ScienceDaily

[min-jpg]

Hi!! Can you do they boys getting kidnapped but its Diluc, Childe, and Kazuha? Thank you!!💗💗

Note: I just want to point out that there's no actual reason on how I choose for the reader to beat up the kidnappers since part 1,, it's totally random as long as I'm trying out different ideas whatever fits ehe. Enjoy! 💖

---

Kidnapped Genshin Boys x Fem Rich!reader pt.2

Part 1 (Kaeya, Zhongli, Xiao)

Characters: Childe, Diluc, Kazuha

Genre: fluff, established relationship, some woman kicking ass action, (TW: mentions of blood and violence)

---

CHILDE

Your boyfriend would definitely try to go head-to-head against the shady group of people who abducted him. The gang accountable must be living under the rock for even considering one of the most dangerous Harbingers as their prey to carry out their schemes.

However, Childe learned that there would be ramifications if he tries to be rash without gathering solid intel first. Having no knowledge of your current circumstances and whereabouts troubled him to the core. They could have already sent out a corresponding group towards you and endanger you if he failed to listen.

Being wealthy is not a foreign concept to Childe as he is also a wealthy man himself. That said, the premonition of being a target for a ransom would not be unrealistic to him. For now, he is glad that he is the victim here instead of having to witness you kidnapped.

"You know, you could've asked me nicely for some money. I might just give it to you, instead of doing all this for my girlfriend's money." Despite being in a position far from desirable, Childe leisurely sat on the chair that he was bound to, crossing his legs. He was making small talks to push away the worst scenarios happening to you. Are you safe? Are you crying? Did they hurt you?

"I don't know who you are to be running your mouth, but you should value your life a little more." Their leader emerged from the group.

Childe's ocean eyes squinted as menace casts upon his pupils, his voice lowered, "Is that so? Ironic, because you guys seem to value money more than your lives."

The head stepped back slightly, "Enough with your empty threats! You should be aware of the current situation you're in. We're not fooling around here."

"I'm not fooling around either."

As sparks were thrown back and forth, you made your way in through the main entrance. Tapping the shoulder that belongs to one of the men, "Excuse me, I need to get to my boyfriend." Your fist sunk into the side of his face when he turned towards you. He collapsed on the ground with a few broken teeth and blood spewing out of his mouth. Moving on to the next adversary in your path, you fought with full faith in your abilities no matter how intimidating they were.

Soon, the leader and people further ahead finally took notice of it. You pave your way towards your boyfriend and eventually, both your eyes meet each other. Childe puffed out a breath of relief when he finally saw you, but also registering the fact that you just took down most of the men with your bare hands.

Kicking away the men who tried to grab you, you then waved enthusiastically at Childe, "Hey girlie, hold still." Rushing right ahead to the leader, you brought your arm near your face, elbow pointing outwards. The sharp edge from your elbow jabbed his throat, causing him to choke and lose balance.

As his reaction dulled, it was your chance to strike again. Thus, you gallantly overthrew their leader and the entire gang by yourself.

After helping Childe, he stood up abruptly and placed his hands on your shoulder with eagerness written all over the face, "I never knew you could fight so well! How about a spar with me right now?" Expect your boyfriend to continuously bug you to indulge in his rampant itch to fight anyone that comes across as a worthy opponent. Though, the real takeaway from this experience was the way your hair clings to your face with sweat as the adhesive and the triumph look in your eyes. It was a rather attractive sight to relish in his taste.

DILUC

Your boyfriend would be infuriated that crooked people like these exist, much less target him to extort money from you. Just another validation to add up on how incompetent the Knights of Favonious is, he thought. Someone will have to clean up their mess, that someone being him. What better way to do that than to follow them to their hideout to seek out the whole organization?

Diluc is renowned for being one of the richest men in Teyvat. Naturally, the group thought they hit the jackpot on not only holding him for ransom, but potentially garnering some money from him as well.

The only concern he carries is your wellbeing. Diluc fears that this incident will affect you mentally. His head started filling up with formulations on ways to resolve this matter without causing any uproar to guarantee your safety.

When the head was introduced to him, he gritted his teeth to suppress every ounce of his might to not reach for his claymore. Diluc still has to prioritize gathering information first regarding the gang. His patrons at Angel's Share are usually the ones providing him with promising intel of any evildoers, but some things are just meant to be obtained by himself.

"Is this the only hideout you have? Quite in a shambles, don't you think?" Diluc's eyes shifted around the dilapidated building, observing the surroundings to know his enemies better.

The leader rolled his eyes, "It wouldn't be so bad once we get some funding from you and your girlfriend." Diluc hummed. Judging from his answer, it is safe to assume that the organization is rather a small scaling one. Defeating them right now will result in uprooting the source once and for all.

As Diluc was about to do so, a lackey of the gang ran frantically towards them, panting labored when he reached and trying to catch his breath. "What is it?" The leader question.

"T-there's... there's someone." He pointed towards a direction with fear layering his voice.

"What? Why are you so scared?" They all glanced towards the spot.

"I swear there was a woman! I don't know who it is, but she took out some of our guys on guard outside."

In disbelief that a woman could have done anything so reckless, the leader trudged to said location. As it is a spot lacking light, the darkness and shadow made it challenging for him to pinpoint if anyone is there. When he moved closer, you crept out behind from his blind spot and kicked the back of his head, causing his head to spin. Your arm lunged forward, gaining a tight hold onto his nape. You put everything into pushing him, his forehead hammered down to the floor. Creating a loud thud, it gave him a concussion.

"Looking for me?" Your foot stamped onto his back, just making sure he stays down.

Everyone, including your boyfriend, had their pupils dilated at the scene. You sighed at the silence, "All of you just messed with the wrong couple." Lifting your foot away, you stomped forward without giving them a second thought. Your arms and legs are all warmed up for many rounds against your foes.

Diluc watched you from afar as you drove your way towards victory. Although he could step in to help, he admits silently to himself that he would like to observe you a little longer. Putting his trust in your calibers to carry you far, his eyes never left your brave figure.

Once you cleared the group, the next thing to do is checking on Diluc. Already unfastening the restrains himself, he walked to you, "That was well executed. Your abilities shouldn't be underestimated. Don't join the Knights though." He stressed the last remark, scoffing. You chuckled and held his hand to guide him out of here, "Thanks. Glad to impress you, Master Diluc. Let's go home."

KAZUHA

Your boyfriend is a rather hard target to impose on for their plans of kidnapping him. His senses are just too refined for an ordinary person to challenge. Basic tactics, such as overthrowing him with the element of surprise have proven to be futile. Thus, Kazuha will always be able to evade falling prey into their hands.

The only way Kazuha could have been kidnapped is through falsifying evidence of you being in a life-threatening situation. Although he has successfully saved his own skin, not the same could be applied to you. Feeling his resolve shaken, what other choices could he have? Prioritizing your safety is the most important thing right now.

Kazuha may have faced similar situations in the past when out in the sea, encountering pirates of other crew aiming for the Crux Fleet's fortune. Being in the position as a captive for ransom is new. He actually found it amusing, rather than having thoughts of blaming you. It is not your fault that you are blessed with wealth. It is the fault of the criminals.

"Ain't you that the kid who's with Beidou? You're part of her crew." The leader questioned his target, to which he was greeted by Kazuha's silence. "Tell you what. You're just like the rest of us. We want to be rich. How about you ask your girlfriend to bring some more money and we'll give you a share as well?"

Kazuha's face darkened, "I don't know what you've heard, but it must be really valiant of you to assume to worst out of the Crux Fleet and myself. I'd appreciate it if you cease lumping me together with criminals like you."

The Crux Fleet does put up with an infamous reputation amongst the Qixing. Perhaps the abductors concluded that Kazuha has a negative conscience just like them, as in upholding a relationship with you to have a taste of your assets. Still, if he tried to talk his way out of it, barbarians like them will never reach a mutual understanding with him. Kazuha shut his eyes, ignoring any further confrontations to preserve his energy as he contemplates a plan.

He was interrupted when he thought he heard your voice nearby, carried by the wind. The others around him did not hear it since it was just something only Kazuha could pick up. Applying full concentration, he managed to form what he heard, "Get out of my way, please, while I'm asking nicely."

Opening his eyes, he turned to stare at the entrance. As if on cue, the door swung open when you kicked it down, announcing your presence. Some men fainted below your feet.

The others instantly reacted by storming towards your direction to stop your advancement. You stood still in your position, taking a mindful deep breath. One thing you learned from Kazuha is to always remain cold-headed before engaging in a fight.

Kazuha wanted to get out of the restraints to rescue you, but instead, you started dishing out few moves against the men.

When you thought you finished with the remaining numbers, their leader was about to declare his victory, "I got you!" Encircling his arm around your neck in an attempt to strangle you, you huffed and grinned towards Kazuha to signal him you have it under control.

You elbowed his stomach and felt him loosen his grip when he winced. Making enough gap between his arm and your neck, you slipped away and swiftly kicked in between his groins. The color drained from his face and tumbled to the ground, passing out in pain, "Hmph, this is what happens when you touch a lady without her permission." You brushed away the hair from your face after an arduous fight.

Jogging towards your boyfriend, "Kazuha!" He brisked towards you as well and held you in his embrace, softly rubbed your nape, "You're giving me plenty of inspirations for a haiku after such a wonderful performance." Kazuha would appreciate you refraining from such a heedless approach next time. He was comforted to see you safe and knowing the threats were nothing more than to use you, his weakness, against him. After witnessing that, Kazuha will be slightly ashamed he even doubted you in the first place, so he trusts that you can watch out for yourself next time.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(Bad Batch) Visiting the Caves

Imagine:  You and the Bad Batch check out a tourist attraction on the planet you stop on- miles of underground caves that you get to see on a tour.

(Author’s Note: I made myself nearly tear up with this one, so I hope you enjoy it.  I’ve got some asks in my inbox, and I will be getting to those soon!  For now, enjoy this bucket of feels).

   You and the group arrive at the main entrance in civies, and everyone is excited. Wrecker, Tech, and Omega are buzzing with conversation about the cool stuff they'll see. Hunter is doing a mental headcount to make sure everyone's present.   Echo is waiting patiently by the door.  Crosshair doesn't say much, but he's quietly smirking at everyone's interest and casting occasional glances at the entrance.

   Upon entering the main visitor center, everyone scatters.  Wrecker and Echo are looking at photos of the caves that are hanging on the board.  Tech is loading up on brochures and informational booklets.  While Hunter is getting the tickets, Omega is all over the room inspecting the rock displays.  Crosshair does a survey of the place before joining Wrecker and Echo by the board.  Finally, everything is paid for, and the tour begins.   You fall into step with the group in the dimly-lit cave, following the tour guide along the walkway.  

   Hunter is finally able to relax a little and enjoy the sights, though he still has one eye open to make sure the squad doesn’t get into any trouble.  He is fairly attentive to what the tour guide is saying, but is more focused on the aesthetic beauty of the caves rather than the information.  If you are Hunter’s date, he will quietly take your hand in his during the tour and cast you subtle affectionate looks.  He finds going through the tour with you romantic, even when surrounded by the whole squad.  Hunter might even take an opportunity to whisper how beautiful you are when the others are preoccupied.

   Tech is absorbing the information, though most of it is stuff he already knew or just read up on in the brochures.  He still listens closely and will offer up more details if he feels it necessary.  Even though he is focused on the science behind the formation of the caves, he is no less impressed by the sight and speaks about it with wonder.  If you are his date, he’d be at your side the entire time, his shoulder bumping yours, and watching your smiles and expressions of amazement.  He loves seeing you enjoying it as much as he is, and sometimes you’ll catch his stare and feel the warmth in your face.

   Echo is the most attentive, listening carefully and letting the tour guide know he is interested.  He also asks questions and points out anything neat he sees to Omega.  Occasionally, he gives Tech pointed looks if his teammate drowns out the tour guide with his own spew of information.  If you are his date, then you’ll spend most of the tour holding his hand - only letting go when he wants to point something out to Omega.  You’ll catch his eye a lot, whether he’s giving you an amused glance at something your teammates did, or an affectionate gaze every now and then.

   Crosshair talks the least, of course, but he is no less fascinated by the caves.  During the tour, his eyes wander.  At one point, he might even fall behind the rest of the group if he spies something particularly interesting or beautiful.  If you are his date, then there may not be as much conversation, but the two of you can enjoy the sights together.  He’ll still be quite content listening to your comments and observations.  He’s not big on public displays of affection, but he’ll hold your hand and slow down so the two of you fall back behind the group.  Then, he’ll plant an occasional kiss on your temple, and you’ll catch him smiling more.

   Wrecker can hardly contain his excitement.  The others have to keep reminding him that he’s being a little too loud and that the caves carry his booming voice pretty far.  He listens to the tour guide, but finds his mind wandering to other things that grab his attention.  If you are his date, he’ll hold your hand the whole time and keep grinning at you.  Expect him to be pointing out all sorts of things to you.  If the group stays in one place for too long, he gets a little excited and wants to keep moving, so you give his hand a gentle squeeze and smile to distract him.

   Omega is up front between Hunter and Echo, listening and raising her hand to ask questions.  The tour is an hour long, but she’s no less excited at the end than she was when it first started.  She loves learning about the rock formations and the science from both Tech and the tour guide. By now, everyone plays a part in looking after her.  Even Crosshair keeps a protective eye on her if he thinks she’s wandered a little too far.

   After the tour, the group ends up in the gift shop where there are lots of trinkets, gemstones, and fossils for sale.  Everyone scatters again to wander the small aisles.  

   Hunter is browsing the jewelry.  He might get himself a fossil on a black cord to keep.  If you were his date, he’d get you a bracelet made of smooth multicolored gemstones.  He likes the idea of a gift you can keep on you wherever you go, and it pleases him to glance over and see you wearing something he picked out you.  Hunter is rather private about this sort of thing, so he is subtle about gifts.  When you’re distracted, he slides the bracelet onto your wrist in a gentle motion, causing you to glance over in delighted surprise as he smiles at you.

   Tech goes for a sample from the very caves he toured as a souvenir and to conduct his own tests back at the ship.  If you were his date, he’d most likely get you a small rock collection complete with its own display case.  The colorful stones would make a pretty decoration for your quarters and would be rather practical if you took interest in learning more about them.  He’s surprisingly pretty sneaky and is able to get it for you when you went off to browse with one of the others for a while.  He presents the collection to you somewhat hesitantly, observing your expression in hopes you like the gift.

   Echo can’t decide on what to get for himself right away, so he focuses more on a gift for you.  He ends up finding something for himself in the process.  He picks out a heart-shaped worry stone in your favorite color.  The smoothness of the stone is soothing to the touch, and he figures it would be a nice reminder of the day.  As a thought afterward, he decides he’d like something similar.  Echo takes your hand in his unexpectedly and places the smooth stone in your palm with a smile before showing you the one he got to match.

   Crosshair knows he wants to get you a gift the second he sets foot in the shop, but he isn’t sure how to go about it.  He’s not used to doing this sort of thing, and the thought of his squad seeing him browse the jewelry and teasing him leaves him mortified.  Part of him wants to just ask you what you want, but he’d rather it be a surprise.  He stresses over it until finally Wrecker notices something is off and gives him a nudge in the right direction.  He even browses with him so he can look inconspicuous.  Crosshair goes with a pretty gemstone necklace as a gift for you, and back on the ship, he fastens the jewelry around your neck from behind, hearing your gasp of surprise and seeing you turn around with a smile on your face.

Wrecker is excited to pick out a gift for you, though he isn’t exactly subtle.  You catch him a few times holding up t-shirts toward you when he thinks you’re not looking before quickly hiding them behind his back when you turn to face him fully.  Then you see him ducking behind the aisles to hide from you, making you chuckle.  He is so excited that he can’t just pick out one thing, so he ends up giving you a little gift bag with assorted goodies: gemstone-colored pencils, a stuffed animal, a t-shirt...  He hands it to you, rubbing the back of his neck shyly while you smile at how thoughtful he was.

   At the end of the day, everyone returns to the ship quite happy about the visit.  The group is still buzzing with conversation, and Omega has an armful of gifts from the shop and a big smile on her face.  Everyone sits around and shows off the stuff they got for a while and talks about their favorite part of the tour, and you get the chance to cuddle up next to your favorite Bad Batcher.

[briarworthandoleander]

Report on Safi’jiiva

16 hunters joined the fray. Just three of us left alive. The smell of brimstone and spent gunpowder still burns heavy in the air. Blood still stains my armor. I can’t tell how much of it is mine.

In the first party, it was me, Leo, young Owain, the up-and coming greatsword user. Fresh into Master Rank. The kid had so much potential; if I’d just been QUICK ENOUGH TO Furiora, a friend. She’s been through just as much as I have. She shouldn’t have had to do this.

In the second, Ben and Cyra. Cousins. They were experienced. With them, Eider and Ume for support.

In the third, Donat, Eneida, Ovidio, and Alex. They told me they could handle it. That they were experienced. They couldn’t. Their experience amounted to nothing.

In the forth, Azat, Cynbel, Yama, and Zena. They assured me that everything would be fine.

It wasn’t.

I can still see the horror on their faces. We’d all chased the dragon down to its nest, far below the surface. Leo, Furi, and I cowered behind a rock just to survive, and when we emerged again, it was just us three left to face Safi’jiiva. It was all we could do to survive the fight, to make sure that more lives weren’t lost. The others were vaporized from the concentration of energy released at once, like the aftermath of a volcano erupting beneath their feet. I tried to pull Owain to safety before the blast.

I just wish I could have

There was nothing I could

I have to do something to honor their memories. I want others to know what we’ve been through. I’ll put in a word with the Guild and submit my reports in the morning. Nobody should have to deal with a monster like this.

-Oleander

Reports came in of the Xeno’jiiva Cavern situation progressing at a horrifically fast pace.

So fast that the Xeno’jiiva not only hatched, but matured.

We had hoped that the cocoon would not hatch out for another 3 years if properly sealed, but the energy levels dipped enough to cause the ‘jiiva to notice.

We had a month.

All attempts to keep the monster at its current lair have failed, and several hunting parties have been killed in their attempts, totaling up to 56 deaths. 5 Dragonators lost in just repelling the beast into its lair long enough for us to mobilize another party.

Sixteen hunters, including Oleander and myself, were sent out to take on the monster.

Fig.1 “The Sapphire of the Emperor”

Fig. 2 How Oleander and myself survived.

Fig.3 Hunter Owain’s greatsword after the attack, with what remained of Owain.

Of those sixteen, only Oleander, Furiora, and myself made it back alive.

I’m.

We’re

Oleander isn’t doing too well.

I didn’t really gather much information on the Elder Dragon itself whilst it was alive, too busy trying to keep myself alive.

We weren’t prepared.

I studied the corpse of the Safi’jiiva after Oleander and I managed a rather risky move. With Owain’s greatsword in hand after his bow was broken, Oleander managed to get the weapon set inside Safi’jiiva’s jaws whilst I fired with my heavy bowgun at the blade itself and forced it to cleave further than the dragon’s mouth could stretch - until we nearly took the top of its head off. Oleander was stuck underneath it when it fell, he

He looked a mess, drenched in that awful thing’s blood. 

Sorry I got distracted at the memory. The corpse. The corpse yielded a lot we already knew about the physiology of the Safi’jiiva, and a little we did not. Such as the hardened red hide of the creature better contains the bio energy inside the Safi’jiiva, unlike its “juvenile” form Xeno’jiiva - that leaked energy out so profusely it required to remain dormant in a cocoon despite its size being comparable to most adult Elder Dragons. 

It does “warn” opponents and rival monsters, the energy that runs through Safi’jiiva is so potent it’s somewhat like Namielle in that it sends the energy through its wings until they glow with markings reminiscent of constellations. The wings glowing are a good indicator of its health, enmity and when its’ most likely to attack.

The flames of Safi’jiiva are so powerful - so focused - it’s more akin to a pressurized beam of water most of the time rather than the flowing flames seen by other Elder Dragons.

The “Sapphire of the Emperor” is a horrifying ability in which the Safi’jiiva condenses all its firepower and energy into a singular point that bursts outward shortly after leaving the body of the monster. It’s what essentially wiped out our fellow hunters and researchers.

It’s telegraphed by Safi’jiiva’s chest glowing a deep blue and the dragon spewing out an onslaught of flowing blue flames directed at the ground - a byproduct of the creature pressurizing the energy building up in its gullet before it can be spat out. And that’s it. That’s the only warning you get.

And it happens so quickly that if you’re not lucky enough to duck for cover behind something able to resist the flames - that’s it for you too. There is no surviving that kind of power firsthand.

We were lucky. So horribly lucky.

-

Leo Briarworth

[rockislandadultreads]

Fantasy for Adults: reading recommendations 

Jade City by Fonda Lee

JADE CITY is a gripping Godfather-esque saga of intergenerational blood feuds, vicious politics, magic, and kungfu. The Kaul family is one of two crime syndicates that control the island of Kekon. It's the only place in the world that produces rare magical jade, which grants those with the right training and heritage superhuman abilities. The Green Bone clans of honorable jade-wearing warriors once protected the island from foreign invasion--but nowadays, in a bustling post-war metropolis full of fast cars and foreign money, Green Bone families like the Kauls are primarily involved in commerce, construction, and the everyday upkeep of the districts under their protection. When the simmering tension between the Kauls and their greatest rivals erupts into open violence in the streets, the outcome of this clan war will determine the fate of all Green Bones and the future of Kekon itself.

Queen of the Conquered by Kacen Callender

An ambitious young woman with the power to control minds seeks vengeance against the royals who murdered her family, in a Caribbean-inspired fantasy world embattled by colonial oppression. Sigourney Rose is the only surviving daughter of a noble lineage on the islands of Hans Lollik. When she was a child, her family was murdered by the islands’ colonizers, who have massacred and enslaved generations of her people—and now, Sigourney is ready to exact her revenge. When the childless king of the islands declares that he will choose his successor from amongst eligible noble families, Sigourney uses her ability to read and control minds to manipulate her way onto the royal island and into the ranks of the ruling colonizers. But when she arrives, prepared to fight for control of all the islands, Sigourney finds herself the target of a dangerous, unknown magic. Someone is killing off the ruling families to clear a path to the throne. As the bodies pile up and all eyes regard her with suspicion, Sigourney must find allies among her prey and the murderer among her peers... lest she become the next victim.

Half a King by Joe Abercrombie

Betrayed by his family and left for dead, Prince Yarvi, reluctant heir to a divided kingdom, has vowed to reclaim a throne he never wanted. But first he must survive cruelty, chains and the bitter waters of the Shattered Sea itself - all with only one good hand. Born a weakling in the eyes of a hard, cold world, he cannot grip a shield or swing an axe, so he has sharpened his mind to a deadly edge. Gathering a strange fellowship of the outcast, he finds they can help him more than any noble could. Even so, Yarvi's path may end as it began - in twists, traps and tragedy...

The Record Keeper by Agnes Gomillion

The Record Keeper is a visceral and thrilling near-future dystopia examining past and present race relations. After World War III, Earth is in ruins, and the final armies have come to a reluctant truce. Everyone must obey the law—in every way—or risk shattering the fragile peace and endangering the entire human race. Although Arika Cobane is a member of the race whose backbreaking labor provides food for the remnants of humanity, she is destined to become a member of the Kongo elite. After ten grueling years of training, she is on the threshold of taking her place of privilege far from the fields. But everything changes when a new student arrives. Hosea Khan spews dangerous words of treason: What does peace matter if innocent lives are lost to maintain it? As Arika is exposed to new beliefs, she realizes that the laws she has dedicated herself to uphold are the root of her people's misery. If Arika is to liberate her people, she must unearth her fierce heart and discover the true meaning of freedom: finding the courage to live—or die—without fear.

The Women's War by Jenna Glass

In a high fantasy feminist epic, a revolutionary spell gives women the ability to control their own fertility—with consequences that rock their patriarchal society to its core. When a nobleman’s first duty is to produce a male heir, women are treated like possessions and bargaining chips. But as the aftereffects of a world-altering spell ripple out physically and culturally, women at last have a bargaining chip of their own. And two women in particular find themselves at the crossroads of change. Alys is the widowed mother of two teenage children, and the disinherited daughter of a king. Her existence has been carefully proscribed, but now she discovers a fierce talent not only for politics but also for magic—once deemed solely the domain of men. Meanwhile, in a neighboring kingdom, young Ellin finds herself unexpectedly on the throne after the sudden death of her grandfather the king and everyone else who stood ahead of her in the line of succession. Conventional wisdom holds that she will marry quickly, then quietly surrender the throne to her new husband…. Only, Ellin has other ideas. The tensions building in the two kingdoms grow abruptly worse when a caravan of exiled women and their escort of disgraced soldiers stumbles upon a new source of magic in what was once uninhabitable desert. This new and revolutionary magic—which only women can wield—threatens to tear down what is left of the patriarchy. And the men who currently hold power will do anything to fight back.

The Traitor Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson

Tomorrow, on the beach, Baru Cormorant will look up from the sand of her home and see red sails on the horizon. The Empire of Masks is coming, armed with coin and ink, doctrine and compass, soap and lies. They'll conquer Baru’s island, rewrite her culture, criminalize her customs, and dispose of one of her fathers. But Baru is patient. She'll swallow her hate, prove her talent, and join the Masquerade. She will learn the secrets of empire. She’ll be exactly what they need. And she'll claw her way high enough up the rungs of power to set her people free. In a final test of her loyalty, the Masquerade will send Baru to bring order to distant Aurdwynn, a snakepit of rebels, informants, and seditious dukes. Aurdwynn kills everyone who tries to rule it. To survive, Baru will need to untangle this land’s intricate web of treachery - and conceal her attraction to the dangerously fascinating Duchess Tain Hu. But Baru is a savant in games of power, as ruthless in her tactics as she is fixated on her goals. In the calculus of her schemes, all ledgers must be balanced, and the price of liberation paid in full.

[godkilller]

HELL VERSE - WORLDBUILDING

There are numerous levels of Hell, and it’s difficult but not impossible to travel between each one. Gin went the lowest layer meant for betrayers / liars, therefore meaning he cannot travel any further downward. It’s an isolated place that stretches out for eternity, a dry roughened plain with sharp structures of rock and jagged mountains off in the distance – the largest, greatest mountain punctures through a thick gray storm of clouds in a constant state of churning thunder and flashing bolts of lightning. It’s a desolate land, no running water nor greenery. The days are long and biting winds are harsh, not warm, the ground is icy in areas, bodies frozen beneath the dirty surface, and the nights are pitch black and freezing cold. The sun never shines past the rumbling gray storm clouds above, there is no moonlight. It never rains.

A being sentenced to Hell awakens with a single chain, similar to a Chain of Fate, at the center of their chest. More chains begin to manifest upon them the longer they stay in Hell, and these cannot be broken by physical force nor Zanpakuto strike. The chains will extend endlessly, and even go invisible at times, though the starting period of the person manifesting within Hell typically sees their initial chain not giving them as much slack, restricting them from immediately seeking to travel to another circle of Hell beyond the one they were designated to appear within. The chains can be grabbed at, even used in combat scenarios, but the attachment skewers through the person’s chest into their very soul, it can be extremely painful to have it pulled at.

Roaming blindly throughout every single level are Hollow-esque creatures of molten flame, golems, who will endlessly hunt after beings with great enough reiatsu, regardless of if they conceal themselves – they crawl and clamber after their prey until the end of time, howling and burning. Beings who are caught by them are drained of their energies, and eventually consumed and killed if they aren’t already a resident of Hell – beings already damned to eternity in Hell will not die even if swarmed by these creatures, they’ll simply awaken later feeling greatly weakened temporarily. Zanpakuto can cut these things, destroy them, but they don’t die.

Guarding Hell throughout every layer or circle are Sentinels, large skeletal Hollow-esque soldiers who tirelessly patrol Hell. They stand roughly 60 feet  ( 18 meters )  tall, wear slabs of armor over their torso, shoulders, arms and legs, and may or may not carry with them weapons like swords or clubs of equally grand sizes. They attack anything on sight, but cannot perceive reiatsu, therefore can be avoided by physically hiding. If they find a target, they will immediately seek to destroy them. These entities can summon forth into its hand and thus grasp at the chains connected to any resident of Hell, making it dangerous for any condemned persons to stand against them. Sentinels who succeed in striking down their targets send that victim to Purgatory, a separate and inescapable dimension.

Gin attempted to travel beyond his layer of Hell immediately, but was pulled back downward by his chain. He then took to traveling on foot to scout out the barren wastelands – several days worth of walking, in hunger and thirst, alone, Gin came across a labyrinth of sharp rocks leading towards the base of a mountainous structure, and began scaling it. A single misstep can lead to a harsh plummet, and every part of the climb involved carefully navigating the sharp black rocks which jutted outwards, leaving minimal areas to stop and rest. Lightning bolts, as the climb grew higher into the gray, threatened to strike and made the air smell like ash and copper. The climb is tedious, and various Sentinels stalk around the base of this mountain to guard it from being scaled.

Gin’s journey within his layer of Hell took him several months, but he at last breached the eighth layer of Hell beyond the clouds. Trenches pooled in mist and fog  ( which transition downward into the clouds below )  separated into ten parts – the various sins involving fraud, false prophets, and seducers. The trenches are muddy, slick, and reeks of death. There are bodies half submerged and wailing within the muck, trying to breathe and cry for help – they are the only available anchors to climb out, forcing any attempting to get out of the trenches to crawl and clamber using the bodies of others to hold onto. Most are dormant or incoherent, but newer souls submerged are aware and in blatant distress, desperate, and if awakened into screaming will thus awaken others, causing a frenzied attempt for all to climb upwards. Any who fall are swallowed up by the mists below, and any residents of Hell who fall down the trench will be sent to the level of Hell awaiting below. Every trench is connected, intertwined, woven in a way that each must be dealt with in order to proceed upward.

A little over a year, a chain added to Gin’s frame, and Gin has made it to the seventh layer of Hell meant for abusers, violent and blasphemous, ghouls gnashing their teeth and claw at one another angrily, blindly, in a vast field bloodsoaked and decorated with fallen bodies dismembered and slain. Discarded weapons askew in the damp red-stained grass. It rains here, but irregularly in abrupt downpours, the air is thick and hot. Gin meets Kiganjo Gosuke, the previous Kenpachi slain by Zaraki Kenpachi, who becomes overeager to finally see a new Shinigami travel to this layer of Hell —- and they battle. Gin reckons he needn’t fight too seriously, as they’re both in Hell and therefore neither of them can truly die – but this sentiment is quickly corrected: you can be sent to Purgatory by another damned soul if slain, which Gin would prefer to avoid. Idly, in the midst of clashing, Gin ponders on whether or not him winning would mean Zaraki Kenpachi would be required to slay him to amend the Kenpachi title being loopholed. Gosuke will not let Gin pass him and tells Gin to not get too cocky.

They battle for several days and nights. Gin rediscovers a faint will to live in the span of their tedious battle, realizes he’s still holding on to something, and gives Gosuke his all. Gin laments having to send the first person he genuinely meets in Hell to Purgatory, informing the other that it’s nothing personal before using Kamishini No Yari’s poisonous ace. Gin travels to the next layer, weaving through another maze of sharp trees past the fields and into the sixth circle, a charred and desolate place bathed in flame and molten lava. Many Sentinels reside here, birthed from the seas of fire, a rather large one carrying a whip cracks it across the lands, forming new fissures of flame that spew ash and embers into rains of harsh soot. Suffocating, the atmosphere has no relent nor clear passage, and Gin is struck down when attempting to pass through, pulled by his chains, and swarmed. He’s engulfed by clawing golems who burn and eat away at flesh until Gin awakens with the taste of ash in his mouth, weakened, in the fields of blood of the seventh layer of Hell. Gosuke is not there anymore. Gin’s alone, exhausted, and left to wonder how he’ll ever get past the molten terrain of the circle beyond, awaiting him.

Gin rests to regain his strength, though he’s needed to grow accustomed to the constant sensation of starvation, thirst, and the lack of security enough to genuinely sleep or rest without eventually being sniffed out by lurking golems. Gin does his best to do so, giving himself several weeks of collective wandering, hiding, resting, and repeat – until his reiatsu felt adequately recovered enough to try his way through the sixth again. Intruders of Hell must travel downward through each layer and will face equal adversity as those who hope to escape. But escape isn’t possible if chained to Hell via Chains of Fate, meaning even if one were to make it to the first circle and towards the grand gates of Hell, they could walk through and certainly smell the air and breathe it in, but inevitably the chains which bind them below will trigger, awaken, grow taut, and then mercilessly drag them downward through stone and dirt and rock until their bodies return to the circle of Hell they first awoke within. This can happen immediately, or it can happen days, weeks, even a month after their initial ‘escape’ happens. There is no warning. Just an inescapable doom.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

pegasus grounded (part one)

[horse racing au]

———————————

...and they’re off!

 “Lawrence will you stop cringing and HELP ME?”

Barbara’s partner peeked into the barn, his face pale and expression disgusted, then immediately yanked himself back out.

 “Oh, that is so gross! I didn’t sign up for this!”

 “You didn’t sign up for ANYTHING! I am letting you LIVE in MY HOUSE for FREE! So get your ass OVER HERE and HELP ME!”

Standing against the far wall of the barn, Adam, Barbara’s husband, and Lydia, their young farmhand, stood by, watching the exchange go down. Lydia was holding any tools that might have been needed. The barn cat, Hemlock, came strolling by, took one glance at the scene, then bounded out.

 “Are they…?” Lydia’s words trailed off as she scratched the top of her head. “Does this…?”

 “Oh, yeah,” Barbara said, looking over at her. “This is our process!” And then, shrilly, “LAWRENCE!!!”

 “You have your ARM in a horse’s VAGINA!! You never said anything about THAT when I came to live with you!”

 “I’ll stick my arm up YOUR VAGINA if you don’t get over here!”

 “I don’t have a vagina!!”

 “I DON’T CARE!!” Barbara then quieted her voice and stroked the fur of Latte, the foaling horse she was assisting, “Shh, Shh, Shh. It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay… LAWRENCE I SWEAR TO GOD!!”

 “Okay! Okay! I’m coming!”

Beetlejuice dragged himself over to the fallen horse and did his best to not look at the hooves sticking out of the mare’s vagina.

After some time went by, Barbara was pulling on the foal’s front legs, sticky and wet with birthing fluid and covered in the placenta. She was doing her best to be gentle, yet firm enough to pull out the baby, but the mare continued to let out louder whinnies. Adam gripped tightly to his shirt as he watched. They had already lost three dams that season. They couldn’t take losing another.

Despite its name, The Netherworld was one of the most successful horse ranches in all of America. In terms of the equine community, Barbara and Adam Maitland were basically famous. They had bred several winning foals from the finest mares and the strongest stallions. People came from miles just to bid on one of their colts or fillies. All the horses on their farm were like family, and losing them was like a shot straight to the heart.

 “Come on, girl. I can’t do it alone. Push.” Barbara said encouragingly, pulling out more of the baby.

 “Come on, Latte, push. You can do it.” Beetlejuice said to the mother. The horse’s wild, tired eyes looked up at him.

And then, as if she was actually listening, she began to push harder. The foal’s head slipped out a second later, followed by the rest of the upper body.

 “Hey! She’s doing it!” Beetlejuice exclaimed. “Oh, that is disgusting. But she’s doing it!”

 “Almost there,” Barbara murmured as she got a hold of the foal’s middle.

After a few minutes, the foal was finally out. A spew of birthing fluids and placenta followed, and Beetlejuice was darting out of the barn, causing Barbara to laugh as she peeled off the soaked glove she had on her arm.

 “Good work, Beej!” She called.

 “Urrg…” Beetlejuice groaned from outside.

 “You okay, love?”

 “Fine,” Beetlejuice replied, then grumbled, “Like you care…”

Barbara laughed again and then looked back down at the baby. The new foal looked just like its mother. Under all that goo was a beautiful, chestnut-colored mustang, with a sweet little patch of white on its nose. She just about swooned when she saw those large, gleaming brown eyes look up at her.

 “It’s a filly,” Barbara called to Adam, who was taking deep breaths of relief.

 “Oh, she’s perfect,” Adam said, walking over slowly. “I was so worried for a moment there. You know, after Misty and Prancer and Baylock…”

 “Hey,” Barbara cupped his cheeks, making him look at her. “That isn’t going to happen. We aren’t going to lose anymore.”

Adam nodded.

The filly began to gather her surroundings, looking around to see where she was while her mother licked and nuzzled her from above. After a moment, she slowly began to stand on her long legs, wobbling and tumbling down a few times, making Lydia laugh a bit before she finally started to get the hang of it. She clumsily tottered her way over to her mother and instantly began to nurse.

 “Can’t believe you made birth your profession,” Beetlejuice said as he entered again.

 “What do you think doctors do?” Adam looked at him.

 “I--” Beetlejuice shut his mouth. “Shut up.”

Adam laughed. Barbara shook her head, then looked over at Lydia.

 “What did you parents say about tonight?”

 “They said yes,” Lydia said.

 “Awesome!” Adam looked excited. “FINALLY, we can show you proper horse racing! Barbara, go get changed! Hurry!”

None of them blamed him for his energy. Horses were everything to them, and there was no better way to pass the time than watching horse races. This would be Lydia’s first time watching one firsthand since she was employed by them.

Lime Rock Raceway was a huge, towering stadium, filled with sharply-dressed patrons, colorful slot machines, and expensive fine wine. Barbara, her two partners, and Lydia got to watch the races from the highest point, where the whole track was stretched out before them, eager for their attention. They discussed their bets on the contenders in the next race as they waited.

 “That one.”

Beetlejuice scoffed.

Barbara did not. She continued to stare down at the horses filing onto the muddy racetrack. The one that had caught her eye was at the back of the pack, head held low, ears flicking all over as if it heard something nobody else did. She checked the number.

 “Beside The Dying Fire,” Adam said, having already looked. “Jockey’s name is Jeopardy.”

“What a curious name,” Barbara mused. “Must be a nickname.”

“I sure hope so,” Beetlejuice snorted. “Or else his parents must hate him.”

 “Why are they always men?” Lydia grumbled. She wasn’t having nearly as much fun as Adam had been hoping for, but Barbara didn’t blame her. Watching a horse race wasn’t for everyone.

She looked up at Barbara, asking again, “Can women not race or something?”

Barbara chuckled. “Of course they can. A lot just choose not to. It’s a very male-dominated sport.”

 “That’s weird,” Lydia said, squinting down through the glass at the jockey in question. Despite how thin all the riders were, this one in particular was awkwardly small compared to his competitors. His silks were red and white with black and white stripes down the long sleeves. “Aren’t jockeys supposed to be, like, light? Wouldn’t it make more sense for women to race? It’s easier to be lightweight when you’re a woman.”

 “You got a point there, kid,” Adam said.

 “The weight thing is so fucking stupid. Also, no offense, Babs, but you can’t possibly think that will win?”

Barbara turned to Beetlejuice with a coolly raised eyebrow, a smile playing around her mouth. “Do you doubt me?”

Beetlejuice grinned at her. “Never.”

Nobody knew exactly where Lawrence “Beetlejuice” Shoggoth had come from. He had just shown up one day down in town, presenting himself at Yonkers Raceway with dyed green hair and barely the clothes on his back. But when he started to ride, nobody cared about that anymore. Up on that saddle, Beetlejuice was unstoppable force of speed and grace. Nothing stopped his stride, ever. The races he rode seemed to unfurl as though to a script he had written; a script that left everyone else trailing behind his broad shoulders like a wake left in water. He was the best rider Barbara and Adam had ever seen, but never got to actually become professional due to the weight limit required to be a jockey. Now, he had become more mellow, living among Barbara and Adam as a horse trainer, wanting to teach others about his methods, but still not finding the right student. Nobody he ever came across was good enough for him and his golden wonder: Sandy aka “It’s Showtime,” a magnificent black and white thoroughbred mare with bulky muscles and a knack for sprinting.

Barbara winked at him. “Exactly.”

Out in the mud, the horses were lining up at the gate. Barbara’s bet, Beside The Dying Fire, had drawn a bad position, way over on the outside. Barbara glanced over the information again. The horse was coming up to age four, stood at a staggering seventeen hands, and had terrible form. His jockey was basically a nobody, too, as scrawny and aloof as the horse. And yet, she was drawn to the stallion. There was something to look at with that dull grey horse, even if nobody else saw it.

The racers came under starter’s orders and then they broke from the gate as one at the siren’s scream. It was a small field- plenty of hooves had scratched their own trenches from the earth due to the weather. Beside The Dying Fire hunkered down the outside, ears pulled back against the driving rain. Barbara watched him gallop, watched the low, straight stride stretch and release over the sodden ground. She had grown up around horseflesh, had watched races obsessively for years; she knew a good horse when she saw one.

This was not it.

But all the same, she found herself unable to look away. There was something.

Slogging through the slippery mud, Beside The Dying Fire did not display the brilliance locked deep within him--but when the finish line passed beneath him, his nose was one of the ones in front. Barbara could see the jockey, slathered in muck all over, smiling with relief.

Barbara smiled too, which turned to a smirk as she looked at Beetlejuice. “I told you.”

 “Never doubt you,” Beetlejuice said. He looked back down at the horse in question. “I’m glad I listened to you. Let’s go have a chat with this one.”

——— ——— ———

 “How many times do I have to tell you? Use your goddamn whip!”

 “I don’t want to! It’s mean!”

The sound of arguing echoed down the stable corridor like thunder.

 “Mean? What kind of PETA shit have you been looking at? It’s a damn animal. It doesn’t know anything.”

 “Peril knows a lot of things! He’s smart!”

 “You’re losing us so much money.”

 “I can win without hitting him. I don’t need a crop. I did good today!”

 “You got third. You should have gotten first.”

 “At least I wasn’t last.”

 “Each day you prove that your kind doesn’t belong in racing. Not unless you use your fucking whip!”

 “Well, I think I raced really well.”

 “Your parents will be hearing about this.”

A grizzled man stormed past Barbara, Adam, Beetlejuice, and Lydia as they were making their way down the aisle, hissing and cursing underneath his breath. They all looked forward again to find the victim of his verbal assault: the jockey of Beside The Dying Fire.

 “I think we did good,” He said to the grey giant munching on some alfalfa inside the pen he and that man had been arguing in front of.

“Jeopardy?”

Saying that name made Barbara feel a little stupid, but her call was received when the jockey just about jumped out of his skin. He whirled around, startling his horse into a stomping, huffing fit. He blinked big, doe-like eyes at Barbara and her group.

And that was when Barbara realized he wasn’t a he at all.

Beside The Dying Fire’s jockey was a girl.

Well. That probably explained what that man had meant when he said “your kind.”

She was a tiny, skinny little thing, barley 5’1, bearing no muscle at all. She was young, too, much younger than any of the jockeys Barbara had ever seen before. At most, she had to be fifteen, but by how high pitched and youthful her voice was, she could be even younger. She was completely slathered in mud from head-to-toe, face smeared with sludge and blocking most facial features, but her youth was clear and her hazel eyes were bright behind her goggles.

 “Hi! Hi. Yes, hello. I’m Jeopardy.” She said, stammering slightly, and her voice was a lot higher up close, but not in an obnoxious way. It was sweet and silvery, like candy.

“You’re a girl,” Lydia said in wonder.

The jockey blinked, then looked down at herself. “Last time I checked, yes.”

Lydia laughed.

Jeopardy tried to dust herself off now that she was in the presence of other people, only to remember that she was completely covered in grime. She dropped her arms, looked back up at them, and said, “I swear, I’m not usually covered in this much mud.”

They all laughed. It was nice to see a jockey that had a sense of humor. There were too many that got cranky for asking simple questions or even breathing in the general vicinity of their horse. This girl was the complete opposite of that, and it perhaps had to do with her young age.

 “Does it get in your mouth?” Lydia asked.

 “Oh yeah,” Jeopardy answered. “And my nose. And my ears. ”

Lydia laughed. “How?!”

 “I have no idea!” Jeopardy exclaimed. “Usually it isn’t this bad, but it was rainy today, so it kinda got everywhere. My dinner tonight is going to taste like earth.”

More laughing, and Jeopardy looked delighted. She was giving off a strong sense of loneliness, like it wasn’t normal for people to talk to her in such a friendly way.

“I’m Presley Lind,” Jeopardy— no, Presley, said. “Jeopardy is just a show name.” She then extended a hand to Barbara, only instantly rip it away when she realized how dirty her glove was. “Oh dear. Pretend I shook your hand or else my Southern Belle training will go down the drain.”

“I’m Barbara,” Barbara said. “These are Adam, Beetlejuice, and Lydia.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Presley said politely, smiling, and her lips were caked with drying mud. “What can I do for you all?”

 “Oh, we just wanted to come down and congratulate you on your victory tonight,” Barbara said. “You were amazing.”

Presley perked up, as if it wasn’t uncommon for her to be congratulated. “Oh, really? Th-- thank you! But I didn’t really do anything. It was all this big guy!” She turned to her horse, who looked more brown than grey with all the mud sticking to his coat, and she had so much love in her eyes.

 “He’s beautiful,” Adam said. “What’s his name?”

 “Peril!” Presley told him proudly. “Presley and Peril- it’s kind of our thing.” She reached out and patted the stallion’s freckled nose.

Barbara felt a sort of endearment fill her heart. What an adorable girl.

And then Peril snorted and spit half-chewed alfalfa and huge globs of saliva right into his rider’s face.

For a moment, Presley was frozen, then spit the muck back out onto the ground and raised her gloves hands to wipe her face off. She took off her goggles, and the rings left around her eyes were perfectly clear of grime.

 “I deserved that,” Presley said. She looked at Barbara and her group. “Do not mess with this one when he’s eating.”

 “Say, Presley,” Beetlejuice spoke up. “Do you have a trainer?”

 “Yes, sir,” Presley said, and her manners shocked Barbara. “He was that guy yelling.”

 “Does he always yell at you like that?” Adam asked, sounding slightly concerned.

Presley nodded. “Usually. He doesn’t like me or Peril very much. But he was a lot nicer today. He didn’t hit me with my crop this time!” She laughed, and then realized the others weren’t laughing with her, so she stopped and cleared her throat. “I’m-- I’m totally joking. That was a joke!”

 “Well, it sounds like your guy right now is an ass, but you’re in luck,” Beetlejuice said. “Presley, I’d like to be your trainer.”

[imagine-organization-xiii]

Org XII reacting to s/o wanting to peg them and vise versa maybe as well. Male and or female s/o no pref.

The Xaldin one was written a long time ago because Sam and I both agreed that Xaldin needs to be pegged, but Sam just recently got into a writing mood and decided to finish up these prompts. Give her a big round of applause and get ready for a wild ride - Warning for NSFW

EDIT: @imgonnachangeit - we left out all of the babies from this one, including Zexion. Sorry about the confusion!

-

Xemnas

Xemnas would think you’re joking at first, and while he usually isn’t one for humor, would probably give you a deep rumbling chuckle. “It’s amusing to even think-- err- what? You were serious? Hm.”  Upon realizing your request was not a joke, he would actually give it some thought.

At first he probably would not be interested, not because he was afraid, but because Xemnas is not one to give up the control he has. And Pegging would require a lot of trust that, honestly, would be very difficult for him to relinquish. But, with time and a LOT of deep conversation, he might just give in and let you try. (and he MIGHT just like it more than he bargained for)

Xigbar

Xigbar is a man of dubious doings. He usually is up for just about anything. And when you bring up pegging him, he is down. He’s eager. Almost too eager. That man loves anything that can get him off and the power of a prostate orgasm is just too much temptation.

He immediately asks when you plan to do this and if the event isn’t soon enough he’s going to push it sooner. And through all of this, he’s going to try and play it cool. He will act like this isn’t the most important thing to him right now but it totally is.

Xaldin

LISTEN. L I S T E N. THIS MAN. LOVES. GETTING. PEGGED. If his SO is willing to peg him, he is HERE. FOR. IT. We have mentioned before how much Xaldin adores his SO and loves being in their control when in the bedroom, but he just really loves the intimacy of having his beloved having their way with him. If you bring it up with him, he keeps his cool on the outside, but on the inside he is totally thrilled.

His enthusiasm comes less from the act of the pegging itself but more about the trust and intimacy that comes with it. Its slow and passionate and all in all an amazing experience. Every thrust is laden with words of adoration and praise that seem unparalleled in comparison. You feel the lust linger in the air as the passion engulfs you both and it almost feels like you have left this world entirely. While he may not have a heart, something is there and it moves through you both as you rock his world. This is what the poets say when they describe great love.

Vexen

Vexen is a man of vast knowledge and could easily spew a river of knowledge that you never knew or possibly never even cared to know. But you may have found the one topic in this world that he knows absolutely nothing about. And of course, being a man of science as he is, would certainly demand that you tell him, but as soon as you do, Vexen’s face would pale immediately. He would put his foot down so fast, your head would spin. Of course, this was to be expected. You are his S/O after all, and you know the man pretty well, so you drop the one word that you know would change his tune.

“Oh but… it would be such an interesting experiment.” And the moment his ears perk up, you know he’s putty in your hands. He will agree to try it once. For science. And unlike some of the other members, taking things slow in this would be a must. Every touch and motion is slow, careful and tender, so much so that you worry it all is too boring for Vexen, but just as you are about to say something, you hear the softest, most broken moan you had ever heard. The experiment may have been going better than you had expected.

Lexaeus

He doesn’t say much when you ask him, but his expression told you right away that he knew what you were asking. His face darkened from it’s normal color to a deep sunset color all the way up to his ears in a matter of seconds. While Lexaeus isn’t one for words, his reactions are something that always seemed to melt your heart. He won’t reply right away, he might even wait until later that night to give you his answer. But know that when he does give you your answer, he will have thought about every aspect, pro and con, and will probably agree to try it.

At first you go slowly, making sure to take all the necessary steps, but soon you both get really into it. For you, taking charge allows you to choose the pace as you go, and for Lexaeus, not having to control the pace means that he can stay still and not worry about hurting you which allows him to relax and enjoy the love making even more! It’s a win-win for you both!

Saix

Your initial mistake was asking him during the day. He is much less agreeable during the work day; too much to do and even less time that he can spend in personal manners. You ask anyway.  The first word that leaves his lips would be a “what?” that comes out closer to a growl than a question. He heard you, he just wants you to see if you’re brave enough to ask again. And of course, you do. And he immediately replies with “No.” before walking away. Went as well as you could expect.  Like Xemnas, Saix is not one to give up control of his body easily. You bring it up to him again at a later time, but this time, you have a serious conversation about the prospects of what you were suggesting.

You take time to discuss how it would happen, what the preparation would be like, and every detail imaginable. You would think it would be sexy to talk like this, but something in Saix’s demeanor seems to make it sound more like a business transaction than something fun. But at the end, Saix agrees, which is something you did not expect. It seems he trusts you more than you expected, which is actually kind of nice. And when it happens, it goes the exact way you had discussed. No surprises. But something inside you gets a little thrill as he snarls into the pillow. You feel a power that surges through you as you tame this savage beast. And you absolutely love it.

Axel

He almost spit takes his drink as you ask him, choking on the water and air a moment before pulling himself together. It’s not that he doesn’t approve of your suggestion, but more that he didn’t expect you to bring it up, and so directly at that. After his coughing fit subsides, however, he asks you a few questions. Do you know what you’re asking? Are you prepared? Do you know how to do this safely? And of course, you’re no fool, you’ve done your research. Nd after talking out the basics, Axel is pretty fucking game. He’s not eager as some others would be, but he is curious about the experience.

He even jokes about it the entire time. And when you actually get into it? Oh boy is he vocal. Not just in the moaning and whimpering, but the sass on this boy is astounding. He seems to love goading you on to fuck him harder more than the sex itself. But of course, you can’t seem to resist the little sounds he makes, as each one passes his lips, a little shiver runs through you. Soon you tease him if only to wipe the smirk from his face and he folds instantly, begging for you to get him off. Needless to say, it was a fun time for all.

Demyx

Demyx all but screams when you bring up pegging. His voice even cracks a little bit when he replies. You can tell however that he’s really nervous about you bringing it up, so you start to backtrack a little bit and try to pull back on the offer. You tell him it’s okay if he isn’t comfortable with something like that, but when you do, Demyx says he would rather think about it on his own. Of course, to Demyx,  “thinking on your own” really just means turning to the one person he knew he could trust with sex advise; and that would be Xigbar. And of course, when asked about pegging, Xigbar laughs in the poor boy's face but also advocates it immediately, going off about how great a prostate orgasm is and basically doing all the sales work for you. So guess who comes back more eager than ever?

Well, when you get to it, you can still tell that Demyx is nervous, so it takes a lot of prep work and trust building before you can actually get to the main event. And of course, it’s fun, but it becomes increasingly clear that this kind of sex is just not Demyx’s cup of tea. So you both are proud of yourselves for trying but go back to making love the way you love best. No shame in not liking something after trying it!

Luxord

As soon as you ask, a smug grin appears on Luxord’s face. He was always a debaucherous man, and a rather huge fan of anal, this much you knew already. But it seemed that anal in his end was very well on the table and you didn’t even know. He is pretty much down instantly, but certainly tries to downplay his readiness with some of that smokey british charm of his. Running a hand over his platinum hair, he chuckles. “Well, my dear. I am most certainly amenable to that.. But I didn’t think you would be so eager…” he would purr into your ear in that way that gives you chills. And once you are prepares and ready, the sex is pretty freaking fun.

Since he normally enjoys anal, Luxord is a bounty of information and tips to help you do a better job, and he is one hell of a teacher. And it isn’t always you on top, but instead a long night of passionate lovemaking in all sorts of positions and means. It ends up becoming one fantastic night. 

Marluxia

Oh Honey YES. You are not the first to be enjoying his forbidden garden and Marluxia is more than agreeable to play. He isn’t so eager that he is jumping up and down, but you can tell by the way that his eyes light up that he is thrilled to bits that you brought this up. On the night of, you can already tell that he spent a lot of extra time that way, preparing himself for you so that you could get right to the nasty. And boy, do you two really enjoy yourself.

While his prep work and effort is nice to see, you do take a little extra time to prepare him yourself before making love to your sweet rose. The sex almost feels like it is happening in a movie; everything just seems to go perfectly, and the love in the air mingling the scents of rose oil and bergamot sends you both into a tizzy of ardent affection. It’s all absolutely perfect. And Marluxia makes some of the most melodic sounds you had ever heard in your life.

Larxene

Larxene is pretty fucking down to peg anyone and everyone. If you want to peg her, she is also open to it, but she definitely wants her turn. So you strike a deal. You can peg her if she can peg you in the same way. It’s just equal exchange, baby, and Larxene is all about equality if she can benefit from it. The sex is pretty great, though whenever you top, she is all power bottom energy, telling you exactly where and how she wants it. And well, you can listen to her, or you could be in for getting in trouble later.

Oh but when SHE TOPS, LARXENE TOPS WITH A POWER YOU HAVE NEVER WITNESSED BEFORE. The girl straight up goes on a power trip that may as well get her off more than the sex. And you know what? You’re good with that. The way she makes you feel when you’re under her care is out of this world and when its all over, you both are so tired all you do is curl up together and relax

[yentotajaan]

Repercussions II: Wasp’s Nest

Yen’to wandered up to the library with a sense of foreboding. The reason for the meeting was unclear, but with Khan anything was possible. As he entered the library proper, he spied Strega and Khan already present. Damn... thought I would have some moments of peace to prepare for the drunken rambling that is sure to ensue. They engaged in a bit of small talk as they waited, much to Yen’to’s annoyance, but it was not long before the others who saw the posting started filtering in. Annoyance shifted rapidly to surprise at the steadily increasing number of attendees: Alyona, Alaric, Kouronne, Silf, Luka, Ghost, Lalatua, and Ramius. A mixture of new and old employees.... but Alaric does not even work for Lady Faye, does he? How did Khan rope him in? 

The lingering questions were soon cleared up -  Ramius indicated that he was the one that called the meeting rather than Khan. Oh good... maybe this time the briefing will actually be coherent. A strange screen popped out of a device on Ramius’ back, some sort of video feed from one of his drones that apparently captured sight of a suspicious person frequently loitering in the hills around the Shroudrose. Ramius wanted everyone to go out and attempt to find, capture, and interrogate the suspicious target. There were transmissions that potentially linked him to Garleans. I would say this sounds easy enough, but every time I have said that the complete opposite was true. Nothing involving Khan is every that simple.

As they began leaving the Shroudrose grounds, it was not long before Ramius spotted someone suspicious on a path up a nearby hill, leaning against a tree. At his suggestion, they split up to approach from different directions and hopefully catch the person in a pincer. Yen’to took about half of the group while Ramius took the remainder, and upon his signal they approached a visibly panicking miqo’te. He could not be more suspicious even if he was trying...

The unlucky miqo’te was sweating and fidgety, and cracked under pressure almost immediately. As he was not so gently prodded for answers, some in the group began remarking that they smelled smoke. That is odd... did something spark out in the forest? It is not storming, though. The sounds of bells clanging and shouts from Wood Wailers began filtering in from the south, where smoke was streaming into the sky. What in the... that looks like houses are on fire! Before anyone could figure out exactly what was happening, the twang of bows being drawn nearby forced everyone to take cover. Arrows loosed found their target easily - the poor panicking miqo’te spy. Strega and Alyona attempted to keep him alive while Yen’to and Kouronne returned fire with their gun and bow.  Their targets were dressed like Wood Wailers, complete with wooden masks. Oh no... saboteurs?!

The two saboteurs went down quickly, a bit too dead to question. Ramius began picking up strands of chatter from the wounded spy’s linkshell, prompting him to scan for aether currents with his goggles. I swear, that man has a gadget for every occasion. The linkshell chatter made it clear that they were dealing with Garlean infiltrators. Yen’to barely had time to absorb this information before Ramius pointed them north. The band cautiously made their way forward before pausing at a bend in the path.

Half a dozen arrows whizzed by, forcing everyone to press up against the hill just before the bend in the path. Yen’to, Ramius, and Kourunne ran out to fire back at the archers, easily cutting the ambush short. Or so they thought. A shout came from the bushes nearby to “cut down the savages”, and more ‘wood wailers’ leapt out, flanking the party and trapping them in the middle of the path - lancers in the rear and more archers in the front. Damn it -- with the actual guards distracted by those fires we are on our own!

The fighting was brief but brutal. Yen’to yelped as an arrow embedded itself into his leg above the knee, avoiding the armored greaves he hoped would have protected him. Buckling down, he managed to level his rifle and return fire, felling his attacker. Most of the others managed far better, and the Garleans soon came to realize that underestimating tea house employees was a surprisingly bad idea. Lalatua used both fire and ice magic to great and terrifying effect, while Luka ended up burning and melting one of the wooden masks into a hapless soldier’s face. 

The other Garleans fell one by one, but they managed to also injure Alyona before being defeated. Most of the ambushers were dead, but a few laid wounded and moaning. As with the spy, Alyona called Khan over the linkshell to gather the wounded Garleans. Hmph, I say let them bleed out... but the dead do not give up secrets. Once again, Ramius utilized his goggles to pick up the trail and the group rushed in the direction of the ferry docks. Or all but Yen’to rushed, who could only do a hurried limp at this point.

As they approached the docks, they could see the Garleans’ sloop shrinking in the distance as it sped away. There was only one remaining boat at the docks,  with a goblin skipper drinking away the day nearby. He seemed wary at first of the anxious group, but a bag full of gil changed his tune. He promptly called over his own linkpearl to Khan that he was taking a break and that Khan could go fook himself. Oh gods -- this is Khan’s ship?!

The little sloop had seen better days, and seemed to be held together by little more than rusty nails, rotting boards, and pure hope. ... Do I also smell liqour? It had a black flag emblazoned with red glasses, reminiscent of the pair worn by Khan. A kobold on deck gave them a happy little wave and nonchalantly returned to swabbing the deck.  This... both makes complete sense and is utterly stupid. At the urging of Lalauta and Strega, Yen’to sat down to take the weight of his injured leg. Strega once again took the opportunity to stab him with a magitek medical device, despite their previous discussion about advance warnings. At the direction of Ramius, the others grabbed what they could to use as oars and employed aero magic in an attempt to catch up with their targets.

‘Their’ ship came within a few dozen yalms of the Garleans before a shout came from behind some rocks in the river, and another boat slipped out and sped in their direction. Seven hells, how many ambushes are we going to stumble into?! The party braced for impact, and the two boats soon collided and locked into place. Belting out war cries, the Garlean boarding party swarmed onto Khan’s floating coffin.

Yen’to had managed to stand by this point, and upon seeing a saber swinging his way he managed to block it with his armored gauntlet, then returned the favor by slamming the butt of his rifle into the man’s head like a club. Alaric had ripped off one of the boards from the deck to use as a makeshift weapon; a vhan below deck looked up through the hole and simply returned to whatever it was doing.  Uh... I hope that bit was not important. Ramius finished off the remaining Garleans with his quick-firing pistol, and managed to free the boats by cutting entangled ropes. 

Upon arriving at shore, they were met with a scene of carnage. Dockworkers and a few Wood Wailers were crumbled on the ground, seriously wounded but not yet dead.  A jumble of tracks led deeper into the woods. Alyona once again used the linkshell to inform Khan that there were wounded that needed tending, but his response was a complaint that it would take a while because someone had stolen his boat. ... Oops? Well, that is what he gets for being sloppy! One of the injured workers confirmed where the Garleans fled, and the group was soon hot on their heels.

The party caught up to the remaining Garleans soon enough, who were busy at work doing something near a patch of trees. They did not have long to observe the enemy before being spotted, and a Garlean officer called for his troops to form up. They did so with alarming speed and precision, and soon let loose a fusillade of bullets from their gunblades. Thankfully, their aim was not as precise as their formation but a few in Ramius’ group were still hit. Damn it... if I die here I am killing Khan!

The gloves were off now, and no mercy was to be given. Yen’to finally activated his machinist aetherotransformer and spewed a gout of flame from the end of his rifle towards an unfortunate clump of Garleans. The others did not hold back either, letting loose with their fiercest techniques to utterly obliterate their targets in a storm of explosions and fire. I almost feel sorry for the bastards.... almost. As the smoke cleared, it was made apparent what the Garleans had been concerned with - a secret door leading underground. 

Cautiously, the group made their way into the underground store room. It was unlit and barely any light made its way inside. Yen’to’s moon-keeper eyes quickly adjsuted to the darkness, but few of the others were so lucky. Lalatua used some aether to light up her staff, and what it revealed gave everyone pause.

There were numerous desks and cabinets filled with papers, and posters and flyers covered the walls alongside maps. Almost in a stupor, they fanned out to dig through the papers to figure out exactly what they were dealing with. It was worse than suspected. On the largest desk, there was a stack of flyers with names and brief descriptions, many from previous missions with Khan:

Faye Covington, Silf Silverwood, Mocking Bird, Yen’to Tajaan, Elyn Merielle, Mako, Strega, Deccan, Ramius Raske, Khuron Khan.

By the Twelve.... these are signed by tribunus Lucian. He knows so much! How?! Aside from Lucian’s signature, there were directives commenting on multiple phases and local assets. Some of the other posters had vaguely familiar sketches, but were lacking descriptions. Sensing time was of the essence, everyone gathered whatever they could carry and made haste back to the Shroudrose to disseminate the information later and lick their wounds.

All this from one little information gathering mission that went sideways almost a moon ago. If the Garleans do not kill us, Lady Faye just might.

https://yentotajaan.tumblr.com/post/635629242574602240/repercussions

@tough-bit-of-fluff​

@ramius-xiv​

@fair-fae​

@eorzeanharmony​

[kingdoms-of-fate]

DnD Worldbuilding - Fegontis

Fegontis is a desert world of coarse red and blue rock, broken like glassy shards of stone. Some of the stones are the size of boulders and believed to be super heated rock from long ago when the world was still warm, but now it is cold the signs of a dying planet. There Is still active volcanoes but they spew black oily sludge, sometimes even release an icy mud that flows across the mountains and into pools of cold vicious muck. Believed to be the cause of over mining of the world’s fire-gel, the ghost of dead mines are carved into the mountain sides and millions of rusty barrels cover the surface. The Federation builds their towns within the mines to take cover from the planet’s weather but as the world continues to die, the population continues to dwindle, leaving many of the towns deserted with the remaining populous clustering around the few remaining active mining communities left. As what remains of the world’s fire-gel continues to be harnessed, a radioactive waste has poisoned the land further, killing most of its flora and fauna species. In its wake, a new plant has emerged, the Fegontis spine moss and it grows everywhere. A yellow spiked mossy patch, it feeds off the radioactive energy and covers the old barrels strewn across the wilderness and grows on the side of buildings. They, too, have become radioactive and often get caught in dust storms becoming a mustard yellow whirlwind of spiny moss balls, that stick to flesh and carry their radioactive energy to all places and people they reach. The only other creature that has survived in the wastelands is the Fegontis bison. More like a parasitic undead than an animal, they are covered in yellow mossy growths, turning their meat radioactive. The moss eventually grows into the bison's brain driving them mad and causing them to attack without warning, which can result in stampedes rushing across the wilderness, killing everything in their path. While the Federation will harvest the bison for food, it does tend to make sick whoever consumes the tainted meat and over time, causes rashes of yellow moss to grow over their skin. In extreme cases, the dose of radioactive energy is often fatal. While there has been talk to harness the radioactive energy across the world, no one has yet been able to figure out how, and the few druid attempts to cleanse the world has resulted in failure. For more information on radioactive energy and other locations please refer to the magical properties section of your Exemplia library.

[riotwritesthings]

Kinktober 2019 Day 7

Praise-kink | Aphrodisiacs

WinterIron, E, 2.1k | AO3

Prompt found here

This one ended up going not at all where I planned for it too, and I’m note sure I even sure I really hit either of the prompts, but I like how it turned out sooooo here you go!

-

Tony answers the soft knock at his door to find Bucky looking sheepish and a little embarrassed, which is never a good sign. "I broke something," Bucky says by way of greeting.

"Okay," Tony says, because they live in a compound full of super powered crazy people and something breaking is not exactly unusual. "Was it the toaster again?" He prods when Bucky doesn't provide any further information.

"Uh, one of those little trinkets Thor is always bringing back from Asgard," Bucky says, and then immediately holds his hands up like he just knows Tony is about to panic. Which is fair, everyone knows how Tony feels about anything magic or magic-adjacent. "It's fine-"

"That doesn't sound fine!" Tony interrupts, voice a little shrill.

"I'm fine," Bucky promises, smiling a little like he somehow finds Tony's nervous, panicky twitching adorable even as he shakes his head. "Thor said it's some kind of dumb party toy, similar effect as alcohol. 'More or less'." Bucky shrugs, smile dimming a little, and Tony feels a little better that at least Bucky also seems less than thrilled at that half-assed explanation. "He told me to go sleep it off, but I just-" Bucky shrugs, then looks back at Tony with a small, heart stopping smirk, "kinda wanted to see you."

Tony is definitely blushing, he knows it, he gave up on trying to stop it about a week into dating Bucky. At this point he's just hoping that eventually he'll get used to Bucky being quietly charming at him and he'll stop going bright red all the time. It hasn't happened yet but hey, a guy can dream. ''Well don't I feel special," Tony says, aiming for teasing but missing because yeah, he does feel pretty special. With a soft huff of laugher Tony finally steps back to let Bucky into his suite, closing the door behind him. Still, Tony can't resist asking "you're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah,” Bucky says, but then he gives a half hearted shrug and kind of grimaces. “I feel... kinda weird, but otherwise fine."

“Weird how? What is it? Should I call someone?” Tony is instantly on high alert and this, this is why Tony hates magic with every fiber of his being. What the hell does 'kinda weird' mean, and how the hell is Tony supposed to help with that?

“I don’t know,” Bucky says, frowning a little, then looks at Tony and abruptly smiles again, big and wide and just- wow. There should be a health warning on a smile like that. “I feel... good. Like- happy. Relaxed.”

In other circumstance, it might be hilariously sad that Bucky finds feeling happy and relaxed 'weird', but Tony is trying not to focus on that right now. The upside is that happy and relaxed does in fact sound similar to the effect of alcohol, so Tony is doing his best to not freak out. “Anything else?”

Bucky seems to be seriously considering the question, and then his grin gets a little wider and he crowds up against Tony as he says "mm, also kinda horny."

"Well that doesn't mean anything, you're always horny," Tony points out, laughing a little and finally starting to consider that maybe something isn't about to go horribly wrong. Bucky grins as well and doesn't argue, just presses himself up against Tony from chest to hip and oh hello, that's Bucky's hard cock pressing into Tony's hip. "No wonder you came looking for me."

"That's not why," Bucky says, rolling his eyes a little even though the way he's rocking his hips against Tony's in small motions really isn't helping sell his point. Bucky raises his hands and cups Tony's face between his big warm palms, and before Tony can decide if he should sputter in indignation or just straight up swoon Bucky is talking again. "I just wanted to see you. Always wanna see you."

"Um," Tony says, because he is not emotionally prepared for whatever is happening here. Bucky can usually be described in one word, and that word is 'quiet'. Sure he talks, but he uses minimal words and 90% of what he says is dry sarcasm. Tony loves it. But this is something new, Bucky never just walks in and volunteers up how he's feeling and Tony is starting to get that 'oncoming disaster' feeling again.

“You worry too much,” Bucky says, still with that soft, fond smile that Tony doesn’t know what to do with. Bucky’s eyes are a little bright but otherwise clear, and he certainly looks lucid as he carefully drags his thumb over Tony’s lower lip. “I feel fine, baby doll, I promise."

“Well I’m still going to worry,” Tony says with a pout, but doesn’t pull away from Bucky cupping his face oh so carefully, "you're not the boss of me."

“I know you are,” Bucky says, smiling a little wider and totally ignoring Tony's attempt at grumpiness. “You’re always worryin’ over someone. You’re kinda amazing like that.”

Tony is too stunned to do anything but stare at Bucky stupidly for a couple long seconds, because sure Tony claims how amazing he is all the time, but people never agree with him. And who told him that Tony is a big ol’ worrier, anyways? That’s supposed to be a secret. Bucky leans in to kiss him and Tony presses into it instantly, because he will need to be a lot worse that shocked and worried to not want to kiss Bucky. Like possibly dead.

“Such a good heart,” Bucky says when he pulls away, shifting one hand so he can drag his lips along the line of Tony’s jaw, “‘s what I love about you.”

Forget blushing, Tony is now worried that he's having a full on heart attack. They’ve only been dating a couple months, and Bucky said love, and sure Tony’s been head-over-heels and pining like a moron for way longer than he’II ever admit, but Bucky said ‘love,’ and that’s- “I’m gonna go find Thor,” Tony blurts, stepping back a little because no, something is clearly going on here and he can’t fall into the trap.

“Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” Bucky says, still with that small grin as his metal hand drops to Tony’s hip, holding on and keeping him close. Tony has been half-hard since Bucky first got all up in his space, and this is really not helping his effort to think clearly.

“There’s clearly something going on here!” Tony insists, placing his hands on Bucky’s shoulders with full intentions to push him away. Any second now. Bucky gets that little furrow between his eyebrows that Tony quickly started calling his ‘Tony is being mean to himself’ face. ”You broke a mysterious magical who-knows-what!” Tony feels the need to point out because this isn’t about him and his crippling insecurities, it's about the fact that Bucky is probably cursed and therefore spewing nonsense.

Instead of admitting that Tony is probably totally right and they should go seek professional help right away, Bucky backs Tony in against the wall beside the door and ducks down so he can press their foreheads together. “Is it really that crazy that I think you’re amazing?” Bucky asks, voice soft and just a little sad, “that I love you? Because I do. You’re incredible, and brave, and so kind and- god, Tony, how could I not love you?”

Tony’s face feels like its on fire at this point, and oh he wants so badly to believe what Bucky is saying, but... “You broke the magical Asgard thing,” Tony says again, but his voice is weak, and he’s definitely just clinging to Bucky’s shoulders now.

“I’m not cursed, or whatever you’re thinking,” Bucky says with his own annoyed huff, “I’m just... honest. I’ve felt this way for a long, long time, Tony, I just- I could never get the words out.” Bucky strokes his thumb over Tony’s cheek again, so gentle, like Tony is something terribly important. “But you... you should know. How amazing you are. How much I love you.”

And Tony’s not crying, okay, he’s absolutely not crying. It’s just that his face is flushed and his eyes are wet and his chest is tight for a totally different reason. “Oh,” Tony says eloquently, blinking a couple times in a desperate attempt to clear his vision. “I- I love you, too,” he admits, voice barely more than a breath but it’s so, so worth it when Bucky smiles brightly at him.

“I know” Bucky says, and then kisses him before Tony can squawk at him. And it's so easy for Tony to lose himself in just being kissed, to let Bucky press him fully up against the wall and slot their hips together just right, Bucky's thick thigh pressing between his own. Because Bucky loves him, thinks he's amazing and just thinking about it makes Tony feel tingly all over.

By the time Bucky pulls away again Tony has kind of lost the thread of the conversation, so it takes him a second to catch up as Bucky says "how could I not know? You're so good to me, baby. So thoughtful, and considerate. Nobody loves as hard as you, sweet thing, and I wouldn't change a thing about you. You're so perfect, Tony."

Oh great, now Tony is trying not to burst into tears again, like he's some kind of big dumb sap who never hears nice things. Even worse, with the way his hips are pressed up snug against Bucky's there's no way to hide how Tony's cock gives a hard twitch at the words, filling quickly and robbing Tony of the last of his brain power. "I'm totally blaming you next time someone says my ego is out of control," Tony says and he doesn't even care that his voice comes out breathy and weak.

"I think we both know it’s not," Bucky says, shifting so his thigh is snug against Tony's cock, his own erection tucked up against Tony's hip. He drops kisses along Tony's jaw, hint of teeth, and then speaks directly into Tony's ear, low and filthy, as he says "I can stroke your ego if you want, though." He rolls his hips forward pointedly, presses his thigh harder against Tony's cock and yep, he's fully hard now.

Tony groans and shivers all over, grabbing tighter at Bucky's shoulders. "Oh my god," Tony says, shaky and desperate, "you- are you sure you're not cursed?"

Bucky laughs quietly, his breath hot against the shell of Tony's ear. "Promise, baby, I just love you," he says and presses a kiss to Tony's jaw, starts rolling their hips together in a steady rhythm. "Love you so much, been driving myself crazy wanting to tell you how perfect you are."

Tony whimpers embarrassingly and he just knows his entire body must be flushed bright red by now. He also knows that he doesn't care at all, doesn't ever want Bucky to stop. Tony hitches one thigh up around Bucky's waist, braces his back against the wall for a better angle and moans when the next roll of Bucky's hips puts the perfect amount of pressure on his aching cock. "Bucky, sweetheart- "

"Love the way you sound, the way you say my name," Bucky groans out, his voice low and rough and still right in Tony's ear, driving him crazy. "Can't get enough of you, sweet thing, you feel so good, so good to me."

And it's a little ridiculous, they're still right inside the door of Tony's suite, dry humping against the wall like they don't have easy access to a bed, or even the couch. And Tony is absolutely going to come like this, Bucky's thick thigh pressed against his cook, Bucky whispering sweetly in his ear. "Bucky, Bucky, I'm-"

"Yes," Bucky growls, "let me hear you, gorgeous." He presses his hips forward hard, pins Tony up against the wall and grinds into him as he gently cups Tony's face in one hand again. "You're so amazing, Tony," he says in a soft growl, scrapes his teeth over Tony's jaw, "you do so much for everyone, let me take care of you. Let me take you apart."

Tony comes with a moan that's uncomfortably close to a sob, fingers digging into Bucky's shoulders and his thighs clenching around Bucky's as his orgasm crashes over him. Everything goes warm and fuzzy and amazing for a second, and Tony is only dimly aware of Bucky's hard cock still pressed into his hip, Bucky still thrusting against him until he comes with a low groan.

"Wow," Tony finally says, blinking dumbly as his brain comes back online. He lets his leg drop back to the floor as Bucky tucks his face into Tony's neck and runs soothing hands down Tony's sides. "I love you," Tony says again, because he can, because it's such a relief after holding it in for so long.

After a second of thought, Tony adds "I still don't like magic, though."

Bucky laughs against his throat.