#out-of-bounds-noms

[glitchedoutnoms]

Prey who wants nothing more but to be eaten and tucked away from the outside world. But every time a pred opens their mouth to invite them in, all the prey can do is scream, cry and scramble away as fast as possible. No matter how reassured they are that they wouldn't be harmed or how dull the preds teeth may be, the prey just cannot help it.

Prey being deathly afraid of sharp objects like needles, knives or teeth. Prey having a pred s/o or friend who helps them overcome that fear so they can both enjoy the noms. Perhaps the pred gets the idea to let them rest the prey's head/body on their tongue to try and get them used to seeing the preds teeth and be reassured they won't harm them.

Mouth therapy for an anxiety ridden prey just seems so wholesome and comfy oml

[glitchedoutnoms]

He just like me fr

A hungry boy who denies being hungry but all he can think about is how badly he wants to be stuffed full of sweets and heavy foods until he can slip into a food coma with your hands giving him tummy rubs

[robo-dino-puppy]

hfw: burning shores | landscapes 3/?

[bakugoushotwife]

blessing and curse

summary: yuuji is a wonderful boyfriend...you just wish he was able to fuck you... warnings: post shibuya, aged up duh, yuuji struggles with ptsd, night terrors, as well as anxiety, you both see therapists, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, fem!reader, pet names, (pretty girl, baby, cutie, etc), rough sex. wc: 3k a/n: this is my first yuuji piece nom nom nom i'm actually obsessed and soaking wet tbh i'm thinking thoughts for yuuji.........anyway to my lovely requester i hope you enjoy this <;3 jjk masterlist here

yuuji feels things very intensely. it’s a blessing and a curse, though the latter is more often experienced than the former. guilt, loss, regret–all things that nearly swallowed him whole while he fought for his friends and the people of japan–for the whole world. it’s so hard to be him, to live with what he carries on his shoulders–on his soul. he’s unloveable. he’s the one who caused all of the pain—things would have been easier if he died. there’s a number of people whose lives ended because of and for him. he was only just adjacent to a murderer. months after the fighting ceased and the war was won, he would wake up numerous times through the night with night terrors. he couldn��t even call them nightmares because they weren’t fabrications of his imagination. they were all too real memories that kept making their rounds–reminding him that he would be forever burdened with a layer of hell no one else could claim to know about. 

he met you in the waiting room of his therapist’s office. he remembers seeing you and wondering what you could be talking to his specialist about. it meant you also had to be a sorcerer—clearly he couldn’t see a normal one about his specific traumas and baggage, and apparently neither could you. he remembers not even knowing you and his heart still hurting for the pretty young girl that must be hurting like him. he remembers hoping that you hadn’t been through anything like what he had—the anxious voice in the back of his mind wondering if somehow he caused your pain via sukuna’s rampages or the destruction and death that followed him. he remembers you meeting his eyes on a seemingly unremarkable thursday afternoon, catching him in the middle of one of his staring way too long episodes. you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at him in amusement. 

the rest was easy. you were easy to talk to, to admire, to hold, to love. you made him feel intense things in a good way–in a way he had nearly given up on. his world had slowly become a mixed palette of blacks and whites and muted grays–but your smile brought color back. your touch made vivid purples and yellows; your laughter the brightest of pinks and the most warm oranges. you became the blessing where he was the curse, the savior of a damned man bound to paint on smiles and pretend that sacrificing his soul and everyone he’s ever loved was worth it. now he felt unimaginable comfort and love by getting to know you. his smiles weren’t so fake anymore—and the only things that woke him in the night was losing you. truly the only fear that yuuji itadori has left: cursing his blessing. 

you thought he was the best boyfriend around and an even better man. you’ve slowly but surely unraveled the reason he was visiting the therapist through his eventual opening up to you and telling you just a fraction of what he’s experienced in his life and you can understand his intimacy issues. see…yuuji is easy to love. he’s wonderful, attentive, sweet, careful, strong and chivalrous. but he won’t fuck you. you’re too nervous to push him any further—all too aware of his fears of letting anyone in, of loving and showing that in ways that make you vulnerable. he’s all too conscious of what it would mean—of the danger he would be putting you in.

there’s been many times here lately that you’ve thought that line will finally be crossed—heavy petting and make-outs that get you squirming in his lap and soaking through your panties. it always goes this way, no matter how innocent the two of you try to keep your dates. move night, game night, even cooking together ends up with yuuji’s tongue down your throat and his hands under your shirt. tonight is no different, some youtube video plays in the background—a forgotten video game walkthrough that yuuji had been paying careful attention to until you leaned in to rip it away with those teasing kisses to his jaw. you know exactly what buttons to press after four months of nothing past second base driving you to a point of restlessness. 

you just wanted him to see your perseverance. you would do this for as long as it takes, anything to prove that you’re here to stay. you want to make him comfortable enough to tear those walls down—the ones that make his eyes flutter shut and his hands fist at his pants in order to keep them to himself. his eyes close to will himself to concentrate on something–anything—other than the feeling of your warm lips tracing his pulse, smooth fingers sliding under his shirt to outline the dips and muscles of his torso. it’s not that he doesn’t want to this, he craves you like nothing ever before. your touch is the medicine bringing him back to life, but he can’t allow himself to ruin you—taint you. but as you move into his lap and change your kisses to more intense nips and sucks at his skin, his body betrays his mind. he can feel the blood rush to his cock as your thighs trap him beneath you, and he moans out at the same time you do. the pressure of your clothed cunt sitting against his needy dick has his hands moving before he can tell himself to stop. he grabs your waist, accidentally and automatically rutting up against the friction you offer with a hiss. 

“fuck, cutie.” he groans, your lips covering his parted and pouty ones to keep him from protesting further. his fingers only dig into your side as the two sides of his mind argue with each other. he wants you badly, your body slotted against his perfectly and the way you kiss him like you’re trying to touch his soul drives him crazy. anyone with a girlfriend as hot as you would be a fucking idiot to keep denying himself of her. his hands knead the warm flesh of your body as an instinct, his body knowingly responding to your advances. his tongue slides over yours in a frenzy, his head becoming fuzzy as saliva trails down his chin—something in him telling him to stop when his hands slide upwards to palm your chest. you cry out at the feeling—so starved for his affection that you know you’re soaking wet already. just his rough hands scraping over your sensitive nipples sends you into rutting rhythmic circles of your hips over the tent in his pants, breaking your sloppy kiss in order to remove your shirt fully in a silent show of what you wanted to happen next. 

“aw baby—you know i can’t,” he whines, his lips swollen and even pinker than usual. he drops his hold to your hips, making comforting circles over the bone beneath his grasp. your face drops to instant heartbreak and he can feel his own heart try to rip itself apart for making you so sad. he never thought about how this must affect you, a woman with needs and desires for her boyfriend. he knows this can’t last much longer or he’ll lose you anyway. the room is just a mixture of your heavy breathing and the monotone droning of the tv for a few moments, and then you whine in retaliation, picking up his hand and moving it back to your breast. you search his eyes, seeing the fear flickering in those brown embers of his. you just need to show him there’s nothing to be scared of, that you need him worse than you need the oxygen in this room and would do anything for him today and forever. 

“yuuji,” you gasp out in such a voice that he knows he won’t be able to hold back this time. four months of seeing your body in your cute date outfits and in his shirt after you’ve spent the night; the feeling of your curves under his fingers as he guides you to the safe side of the sidewalk or the swell of your hip as he guides you through the door he’s just opened—four months of draining his balls after he’s sent you home with nothing more than a few wet kisses and tit-squeezes. the way your eyes shine like you’re about to cry if he denies you one last time…it’s too much. “please—i need you,” you breathe out, reaching those gorgeously soft hands out to sweep against his cheeks, to plead with him to be a good boyfriend. he can’t make you suffer any longer—”i need you so bad yuuji, please don’t push me away…i’m your forever girl!” 

oh fuck. he might cum in his pants from hearing that alone. suddenly, silence falls upon his mind. he can only hear the echoes of your cries for him–no more voices in his head arguing about the best way to continue, only you. a guttural groan rips from his throat and he stands with your legs wrapped around his body, a broad hand snaking up your back to keep you pressed against him. you squeal a little at the sudden shift and the deep growl that he let out, his face now devoid of that playful man you’ve come to love. he looks so focused, so serious, his brow furrowed as he looks over your face. 

“i’m sorry i made you wait so long, pretty girl.” he nods, letting your body bounce on the bed as he’s set on immediately removing the remainder of your clothes. he pulls you to the edge, legs dangling over the sides. you almost think it must be too good to be true, sitting up on your elbows to catch a glimpse of that ravenous fire consuming his previously kind eyes. he’s leaned back to peel his own clothes off, but his eyes never leave your body. he looks over your lip pinched between your teeth to your pebbled nipples to the glistening slick coating your inner thighs. he doesn’t even know where to start, but he’s going to ensure that you’re finally taken care of. “i’m a dumbass—thought i was keeping you safer like that.” he mutters, leaning over to kiss the space between your ribcage. he makes his way to your jaw, licking a hungry stripe between your breasts and claiming your neck with bruising nips at the delicate flesh that greeted him. 

you’re set to mewling immediately, the flip switched in your boyfriend making you rub your legs together in anticipation. he chuckles and you can feel him smile against your skin as his hand snakes down to keep you from squirming. he quickly pecks your lips. “m gonna make it up to you now, baby girl.” his eyes are wide, but glazed over with affection. you nod, feeling his strong fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh to keep you from closing them, his abs raking over your sensitive clit as he lowers himself to his knees at the foot of the bed. your face burns as you realize what he’s going to do, but he doesn’t give you time to think about it before turning your mind to mush from the feeling of his fat tongue splitting your lips apart and breaching your tiny hole. he seems pleased by the way you react—back arching off the bed and hands gripping at the sheets from the surprising burn. it’s a good burn, the kind you’ve been craving for the months you’ve been with a man who loves you like he does, your wanton moans just cementing that his choice was the right one. he’s growing addicted to this already; your flavor on his tongue, your moans echoing in his ears and your thighs pressing in to the sides of his face. he feels your silky walls clamp down on his tongue, making his eyes roll back at the thought of putting his dick in something so tight. he slurps at the arousal slipping out, sliding his tongue to the hardened bud waiting at the top of your cunt. he wraps his tongue around your clit, making you jolt at the sudden increase in sensation. it’s amazing—goosebumps prickle out over your skin and you reach down to tug at the silky pink locks woven between your fingers. you can feel every nerve running through your body and how it builds with a fiery pleasure that you know only yuuji can give you. “oh my god—yuuji!” you cry out as that pleasure mounts to a tipping point. his teeth scrape against your hood to encourage you to fall over that line so he can see what he’s been denying you of for four achingly long months. 

you make the sweetest face when you cum, it has him closing a fist around his own dick to calm himself—the promise of having your pussy making him jerk at his own touch. you even sound so pretty as you shatter, legs jerking and your grip on his hair yanking almost painfully hard. it only makes yuuji smile wider, feeling a bubbly sense of satisfaction ripple in his own gut from making you feel so good. 

“nngh, yuuji–” you whine, your vision returning to normal after a few seconds of respite. he’s already pushing you back to the pillows, manhandling you into the bent position he wanted. you’re on your back, knees by your ears and a boyfriend giving you no time to be anxious about the angry and leaky horsecock sliding through your folds. you thought he was a sweet man, and maybe he still is–but his own excitement to have you has him forgetting his normal chivalrous behavior. “fuck–yuuji!” you claw at his biceps, fighting against that true splitting burn. his tongue was nothing compared to the girth he pierces you with—and he’s smiling so tenderly at your wiggling and struggling. 

“s’okay, cutie. you can take it, you’re already taking it!! didn’t you ask me to?” he raises a brow, face flashing with mock-confusion as your hands shove at his chest, all in an effort to get used to the feeling of him inside you. his thumb brushes your cheek, his other hand keeping the back of your thigh shoved back. “nyeh—you begged me! come on pretty girl–you gotta loosen up!” he laughs airily, moving the hand from your face back down to pinch and roll your aching clit. you jump at first, the touch sending another jolt of pleasure circulating to your brain–and then you relax enough for him to move. he’s got you folded in such a way that you can hardly breathe–or maybe that’s from how he slams into you recklessly, tip catching on your poor, innocent, cervix each time. it hurts, it burns everywhere—but it’s the best feeling in the world. his breathing grows ragged once he settled into a pace, brutally slamming into you in a way that led you to believe he wasn’t doing this on accident. 

soon, your hands around his biceps slip to your sides, eyes lulling into a pleasure-induced haze. you watch him, the twitch of his nose and the way his hair gets curly once it sticks to his forehead from his sweat. he’s perfect, and he’s finally giving you all of himself, really devoting himself to you, conquering any fear. you don’t mind if you’ll be bedridden for the next week—feeling his heavy cock in your chest from how hard he ruts into you—it would be well worth it to hear his grunts and whimpers of satisfaction, to feel the bruising grip he has on your body like he’s afraid you might disappear. it’s all so good, and exactly like you craved. “there she goes—takin’ it like a champ now!” he cheers you on, panting a little as he leans over your body and grabs the headboard, deepening his angle as if he wasn’t already fucking you brainless. 

the new angle makes your jaw drop in absolute earth-shattering bliss. you two could be the only people left on earth and you would never know—to consumed in yuuji itadori to notice anything else. you’re back to pawing at his chest, the coil in your gut building rapidly as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. you wanted everything, he’ll make sure he gives you everything. the headboard creaks, the bed moans with you and you truly do worry he might break it for a split second–but his broken moan of your name swallows up any wandering thoughts. a bead of sweat slides down the slope of his nose before it drops onto your cheek, the evidence of his hardwork. he moans your name again, warning you that the end was approaching. you nod as he moves your legs to his shoulders, leaning as close as possible to wrap you in his arms and kiss you in short, desperate bursts. he treasures you more than he thought possible, that look you give him right before your eyes roll back into your head from your orgasm makes his own dick jump within your vice-grip of a cunt. you make that sweet face again, a face he knows he’s hooked on—your pussy spasming around him to welcome his fat load gets him to make his own kind of special and beautiful face, lip between his teeth and adam’s apple bobbing at the same pace his balls slap into your backside. you swear you can feel his heart beating, his lungs filling and emptying as he flattens his chest to yours and fills your guts with his loving cum. he keeps thrusting even after he’s done, just watching your face contort and shift, your body bouncing in his arms. he likes the ache of overstimluation, and loves the way you mewl and hug him, eyes all sleepy and far away. 

“that’s it, you did it, so so good.” he praises in a soft tone, kissing your lips and then your nose and then your forehead with equal adoration. “can’t believe i kept us from feeling like that!” he shakes his head, kissing your cheeks to continue showering you in his love if not to keep you awake. he sits back up and slides out of you, quickly snatching his t-shirt up to catch the spillage. it’s hot, watching his seed trickle from your abused pussy—he whines a little at the sight, puppy dog eyes flickering over your body as if to wonder if you could take another round…

now that you’ve gotten him to start, you may never get him to stop.

[my-writings-and-musings]

The always awesome @stratofall006 and I did an art/fic swap and I asked for Earthspark Bumblebee with a sparkling strapped to his chest. I was not disappointed to say the very least LOOK AT HIM!!!

I was so inspired, in fact, I just had to write a short little something based on the image. Set sometime after Season 1 where Bee and Breakdown have had a bitlet and our beloved Scout is trying to teach his students. I couldn't think of a name for the bitty so just use your imagination.

---

"Kids, my optics are up here."

The five Terrans seated before him in their makeshift outdoor classroom all shrunk upon being called out, but Bumblebee was hardly angry even at the umpteenth interruption. He couldn't blame the kids for struggling to focus, as the tiny bundle strapped to his chest was taking up a sizable chunk of his own attention as well, and they were all struggling to return to the old routine now that he was no longer carrying. Most of his negative emotions were bound up in how delayed Optimus had been in informing him that Breakdown would be needed for a field mission today, leaving him to multitask between teaching and parenting with almost no forewarning...

"Sorry, Bee." Twitch apologized sincerely, big orange optics bringing a soft smile to his face as she tried not to look at the sparkling.

"We really are trying!" Thrash added just as emphatically, making his teacher chuckle in appreciation. If nothing else, their commitment meant a lot to him. The bitlet on his chassis stirred at his laughter, compelling him to look down as her tiny servos flexed for the sky and her stubby pedes kicked in amusement.

"She's just sooo cute!" Hashtag spoke up, saying what they were all thinking. Bumblebee couldn't deny he and Breakdown had produced one of the cutest bitlets he'd ever seen, and that in her harness said cuteness was on full display, rounded frame bouncing in the straps as her optics continued to look around her audience. He was about to try and redirect his class when Hashtag squealed once more at the adorable antics. "Look, she's sticking her tongue out!"

Blowing a messy raspberry for no particular reason, the bitlet quieted when he directed her stubby servo to her mouth, compelling the little one to nom on it. Trying to get the class back on track, the Scout turned teacher turned parent remembered where he'd been interrupted and got back to teaching.

"I know she's cute, but we've got a lot to get through today. Back on topic; the key to remaining undiscovered is to focus-"

"How precious, she's waving at me!" Nightshade interrupted as they clasped their servos together, once more bringing attention to the sparkling. Bumblebee couldn't deny the way they flapped their arms was beyond amusing, and he began to wonder just how on Earth he was supposed to get through his lesson as Nightshade returned the gesture with a polite wave of their claws. "Hello there, little one!"

"Kids-"

"She's waving at me now!" Jawbreaker gushed as the bitlet swapped arms to wave in his direction, compelling Bumblebee to sigh as he completely lost control once more. Not having the energy to keep this up much longer, he considered telling Optimus that unless he wanted the Terrans to fall even more behind on their training, the big bot would start planning to schedule a babysitter when he pulled bots for mission duty. He already knew Breakdown would be handling most of the sparkling related chores tonight...

A tiny sneeze against his chassis brought him out of his dissatisfied quiet, instincts compelling him to check over the sparkling even though he found she had merely had a tickle in her nose. To his students, however, each new action was the most adorable thing they'd ever seen. Their glowing optics told him that a sneeze was no exception.

"Oh my gosh, I got that on film! Let me share it to the group chat!" Hashtag proclaimed as she rapidly tapped away on her tablet, sharing the video with everyone in their circle as the group once more descended into chaos. Sighing as he briefly dipped into the background, the Scout offered a digit to his sparkling and allowed her to chew on it as his students all vied for her attention. Not having the energy to handle much more, he decided to cut his losses and accept that the lesson was done for the day.

"Alright, everyone, let's just... enjoy a day off for now. We'll take it from the top tomorrow." he announced over the din of five excited Terrans, who were now focused on going through the digital album of pictures and videos they'd put together of his sparklings short but precious existence. Not too put off by the chance for a well earned rest, he sat down on a broad stone and allowed the bitlet to continue nomming on his digit, glad that at least one bot was focused on him.

[thegnomelord]

Ohm nom - 🦈 (I have some news, I was doing some research on DnD species and found a humanoid shark species called Sharkin. I though yo! Thats fin-flipin awesome but um there is one paragraph that made me take a backturn. I highlighted the main bits "Sharkin fought with and hunted any sort of creature that looked either powerful or threatening to them, including dinosaurs and dragons, making them top predators inside and outside of water. They are hated by most if not all surface dwelling races, making them enemy number one to almost everyone. They are even hated and despised by dragons, since the first time they killed an adult red dragon. This was not a one time problem, and has caused a bitter rivalry between the Dragons and Sharkins. They favored the taste of dragon flesh, from that day onward it became the largest badge of honor available for a Sharkin to hunt and kill a dragon. This then henceforth became a great and mighty challenge, for a member of the Sharkin royal family to hunt and bag a dragon, the bigger the better. The royal family loved the taste of dragons so much they made it their most favored treat among all other delicacies of their people. They often form hunting parties specifically to hunt and bag a dragon for any special occasion or festival. This made any and all dragon absolutely despise Sharkin, for they looked at them as prey and dragons being the vain creatures they are hate them. A dragon that sees a Sharkin will immediate become enraged and will do whatever it can to kill and devour it." NOW reasonably i was quite frazzled and immedietly though about our lil Shark captain of our lil marine team, thats partnered, HAND in HAND with a Dragon Captain. But then another idea came to me, this Sharkin species, (despite how cool they are and i still love) are built on the sterotype that Shark are horrendous terrifying vicous, agreesive creature. When in reality Sharks are just fish puppies that could murder you if you pissed them off enough. So that got me thinking, what if due to rumours, shark hybrids were thought to be Dangerous and Hazordous species, due to horrendous strerotypes, and a movie, most were meant to be cool, but were misinterpited so badly that people started getting afriad of them and in turn, aggressive towards. This is mainly based on a real thing, Both the author of Jaws, Peter Benchley, and the director, Steven Spielberg, regret the negative impact the film had on shark populations and the perpetuation of shark stereotypes. So people think that the captains would naturally butt heads, due to sterotypes and rumours that nearly brought the two species to war. (Which was luckily debunked way before anything got violent and now both species are currently fighting against anything harmful towards the other. Creating the oddest but oddly wholesome cross-species relationships. ) Only to find out the two are bound by the hip. waz your take? *Administer Foreheads Kisses*)

Oh yeah, I know the jaws effect lol It's fascinating how fiction can influence reality and reality can influence fiction, sorry this took so long and is so rough, but I got hit with the InspirationTM in the middle of the night lol.

CW:SFW, Price x male reader, monster au,

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

At first sight, the feelings you and the good captain had for each other could be considered tense professionalism at best and disdain at worst. It isn't a surprise why that is; the hate and suspicion running between your species is old and deep like the trenches. Dragons hardly want to be a shark's dinner, and a shark would rather not become soup.

Still, the peace between your species held, and so did the tense relationship between you two. To the others it looked like you never agreed; they've lost count how many times you and Price had spent hours arguing over battle plans. How you two would release all the anger you had in the ring, so much so you had to spar outside because the military didn't have the funds to fix the ring after every match. How you would bare your teeth and Price would snarl and growl at you at every little argument, thinly veiled insults flying like bullets out of your mouths.

What they didn't know was how softly Price would purr when you two laid in bed, how gently his claws traced your shark hide along your torso. Sprawled out over your chest like you're his mountain of golden coins, more a cat than a dragon really, Price is the picture perfect example of bliss.

"Comfortable huh?" You hum, carding your clawed fingers through his hair, taking the time to scratch around the base of his horns.

"Mhm," He hums, content blue eyes closing as he leans into your touch. "Finally a moment to ourselves." Price chuckles, nuzzling his head into your neck. He breathes in your scent with a happy sigh, sharp fangs nibbling on your throat, the comforting scent calming his mind.

"Uhuh," You chuckle in turn, "The boys sure know how to keep us on our toes." You grin and your hand slides down from his head to his back, even gentler there as you trace the scar where his wing used to be. His remaining wing stretches out, weakly shaking as if trying to stretch, before it falls back down to lay on the bed and hang off it.

Price shivers, a low sound rumbling from his chest. "Can't leave those muppets alone for a moment." He huffs. "Did you see MacTavish? The lad nearly lost his tail because of his toy." A soft growl slips past his lips, neither of you had been pleased when Soap's tail got caught on fire thanks to his explosive he swore was 'safe'. Price's tail curls around yours, and though your tail is too rigid to do the same, he can still feel you reciprocate in the way your tail tip wags like a dog's.

"He's your problem in the morning." Your words earn you a sharp nip at your throat, more of an admonishment than an actual threat. "Ow." You say, in revenge pinching his pudgy side.

"You deserve it." Price laughs, forked tongue licking up the stray drops of blood that leak down from where his teeth had cut your skin. Placing a hand on your chest Price rises just enough to catch your lips in a slow kiss. You can taste your blood on his tongue, along with cigar smoke and something inherently draconic that makes your mouth water for a bite of his flesh.

But his kisses are enough to quench your hunger, gun calloused hands holding your head still so he can pepper kisses along your brows and down your nose, on each cheek and down your jaw. There's no need to rush when the night is dark and the sun isn't ready to rise yet.

It's peaceful.

The door slams open, light and voices flooding in "Captains we need-" Johnny's voice pitters off as he takes in the sight, bright eyes glowing in the darkness "-you..."

Not so peaceful.

[glitchedoutnoms]

Nah FR though.

A scene that traumatized younger me was when Bıll Cıpher rearranged all of Mr. Nørthwest's facial features in Grªvity Fªlls.

This was before I grew more desensitized to body horror and such and like- the horrific noises of confusion and pain made me physically gag and cringe.

Nothing else in Grªvity Fªlls really did that for me, but that... younger me was horrified lol.

You ever watch a Kid's cartoon and you come across a scene that's actually really fucking traumatic and you're wondering how the fuck is this made for kids

It happened more than I am comfortable with tbh

[lambilegs]

omg I’m on my period too…need lee being so eager/nonchalant about eating me out despite all the blood

lee giving you the nom nom on your period (LMFAO I'm sorry, it was too funny calling it that to resist)

note to anon: oh bae I totally feel you, can we please share her? 😔🙏🏽 on a serious note though, make sure to rest lots, have good snacks and trust me, heating pads work wonders hehe <33 mwah contains: period sex, lee giving reader oral when reader is on their period, lots of mentions of blood, reader's body is referred to w the terms "clit," "pussy," "tits," and "cunt," not proofread, reader a bit insecure about the period sex

you always knew your girlfriend had a pretty high sex drive. after all, an entire life of sexual repression and avoiding intimacy is bound to do that to a girl. but, you never really gave much consideration to the ceaseless bounds of how horny she could get until she got home from work today, spotted you in your sweats and t-shirt, hair mused from a nap, and after cuddling up to you with a heating pad for a few minutes, began kissing down your neck.

immediately, your eyes bulge out in surprise, and you fumble over your words. you know the difference between lee's neck kisses, and these firm, open-mouthed ones she's lathering all over your skin are pointedly indicative of her mood.

"lee," you rasp out, one hand twisting into the strands of her sleek brown hair despite the protest in your voice. "I-I'm on my period, baby."

she doesn't stop, instead pausing to suck a bruise into your skin, the sting from her mouth's suction making you writhe. "and?"

"well, I just-- it'll be all bloody, and, ah," you moan when she shoves your top up, her mouth immediately rounding on your tits and sucking in a mouthful, her cheekbones prodding out as she harshly tugs a nipple in. more sensitive than usual, your body twists under her ministrations, the firm nubs tickling deliciously from how she's flattening her tongue and lapping over the curves of them.

she continues kissing down your tummy, pausing to slip off your heating pad, and plant some licks and nips on the warm patch of skin. you sigh in pleasure from the remnants of heat combined with the moist of her mouth, eagerly panting when she begins to wiggle down your sweats.

"doesn't matter," she whispers, pressing one last soft kiss before putting the heating pad back on and standing up.

you swallow hard at the sight of her undoing her watch, setting it on the nearby dresser before rolling up her sleeves to her elbows. the whole time, her eyes are locked onto your face, observing every minuscule expression as she takes on a look of firm preparation.

she wordlessly turns to exit the room, returning moments later with a folded towel. she bends down, kissing your knee, and silently gestures for you to lift your hips up. when you do she flattens the towel under you, casting a glance in your direction, eyes soft. "are you okay with this?"

you'd be lying if you said no. while you've never had anyone do this to you before, and your mind is gnawed with worries of how your blood will feel and taste for lee, your clit is throbbing for it. you've been so wanting these past two days, aching for your girlfriend to sate the desire constantly warming your stomach.

"I am, I just-- I'm worried it'll taste weird, or feel weird, and--"

"if it is, I'll stop, okay?" she gently interjects, her thumb rubbing along your inner thigh, the brush of her nail making you shiver. "I won't force myself to continue, then. but, it's..." she trails off, eyes fluttering down as her jaw shifts, clearly picking out the right words. "it's not weird to me, okay? I want to make you feel good. and as of now, I don't feel anything negative towards the idea." her eyes flick back up to you, resting with a focused sort of intent. "okay?"

the surety of her words, paired with her promise to proceed honestly, only motivates you to push through in spite of the lingering doubts. plus, it kind of turns you on even more to see her so sure of herself and her desire for you. it makes you feel completely, utterly wanted and craved by her.

and so, you wash yourself, just for the sake of getting dried blood out of the way, and hop on moments later, shyly spreading yourself out to her. still fresh on your period, you can feel a gush of blood immediately spring out, and you tentatively glance to lee, anxiously awaiting a twist of disgust on her face.

instead, her eyes are wide and burning, hooked onto your pussy with a razor-sharp state. her tongue flaps out, quickly swiping over her lips and you nearly whimper at the sight, especially when she lowers herself onto her knees, wrapping her arms around your thighs to pull you in closer. you let yourself get dragged to the edge, breaths getting heavier in anticipation.

she starts with some soft nuzzles, pressing her nose into your inner thigh, sucking in a sharp breath, the musky scent of your blood already travelling through the room. her tongue darts out, swiping along a few stray drops of blood staining the skin and you're captured by just how... fucking erotic the sight is. there's something insanely sensual, yet romantic, about how even this part of you, the blood that curls and swims through your body, is something she'd hungrily devour.

moments later, the flat of her tongue is running along the entire length of your pussy and your entire body arches at the way deep tingles swarm through your body.

"oh, fuck," you sigh, one hand diving into the silky strands of her ponytail, your hips lifting up as she starts sucking lightly on your pussy's lips.

she braces her forearm on your stomach, holding you down as her soft lips continue to hook onto your lips, your folds, lightly sucking as the tip of her tongue trace along the shapes. your hole clenches at the sensitivity you feel form her touch, and it sends a slither of blood leaking from you. you worry momentarily, the emotion zapping shut when lee's tongue darts out and catches the blood, swallowing it down before kissing your pussy.

"o-oh, my god," you fumble over your words, surprise washing over you at how unabashed she is. "it doesn't taste weird?"

"no." as if to emphasis this, her tongue strokes another long stripe along your cunt, and a hard shiver racks your body. "besides," she continues in a coy mutter, "you're so messy like this." she pulls back and releases a harsh wad of spit on your pussy before diving back in, her tongue poking into your hole and beginning to rock in and out.

the warm, soft texture of her tongue opening you up has you crying out, tugging her hair harder, which causes lee to grunt into your gushing pussy. the sensation of her spreading you out has you writhing in want, the soft, firm muscle making arousal wash through your body in waves.

when her lips press along your swollen clit, tugging lightly into her mouth, your entire body trembles, a loud moan flying from your lips.

lee mumbles against your clit, the movements of her lips light and fleeting, "so noisy. must've needed it bad, hm?"

you attempt a glare at her teasing words, but it immediately crumbles when she hugs her lips tighter around your clit, sucking hard and fast. the rapid motions of her lips tightening then releasing have you thighs quivering, and if not for the iron grip she has on you, you'd be bucking wildly against her mouth. even when she releases her arm from its lock on your tummy, it's only to dig her fingers into the flesh of your hips and keep you still as she devours you, her lips moving with practiced, precise fluidity on your aching clit. her nails dig in her, and you mewl at the sting of it, which has lee breaking away from your pussy to softly chuckle.

you immediately whine in protest, ready to glare daggers down at her, but pause upon the sight of her mouth smeared with blood, her chin a bright red with the dried stain of it. your other hand fists the sheet tighter, something in you breaking at how downright feral your girlfriend looks right now. lee, who's always so put together and neat and clean, her face coated in your blood and juices, the colour of her shirt already dotted with brushes of it.

"you--you look like a vampire," you half-laugh, your breaths heavily lining the words.

her mouth twitches. "and do you like that?"

you gulp, nodding meekly. "yeah, a lot."

she licks her lips, the tip of it rubbing against the corner of her mouth and getting the spot clean of blood. her dark eyes boring into yours from this angle, gaze sharp as she looks absolutely ravenous with the remnants of blood -- yeah, it's a fucking sight, for sure.

though, you don't have much time to think of it as she softly presses her mouth back to your swollen nub, sucking on it lightly as her tongue zig-zags over it. you're immediately thrusting into her face, moaning when her fingers tighten on your hips and shove you back down flat on the bed.

"I know you're eager, but stay still," she quietly commands, the authoritative tone edging her voice only making more of your mixed juices and blood gush. but, lee doesn't seem to mind, continuing to devour your pussy as though you're the finest meal she could've ever conjured in her mind.

at one point, she pulls back to spit a wad of blood from her mouth onto your inner thigh, emptying out her mouth before diving back in. the sight nearly makes you ascend.

when the knot in you snaps, pleasure pulses through your entire body in deep, rolling aches as your pussy clamps down on nothing, lee's mouth continuing to be intent and focused, flicking, sucking, kissing and eating your pussy without cease until you're pushing her head away with a sob.

you watch in fascination as her tongue roves along her blood-soaked lips, swallowing it all down while watching you carefully. if it wasn't for how hot she was, the sight would almost be comical -- lee's serious, steady expression slowly returning while simultaneously being the picture of unhinged with your blood all over her face.

she wipes at her chin. "did you enjoy yourself?"

your eyes narrow down at her, feeling your face burn at her question. "you-- you know the answer, you loser."

the corner of her lip slowly tilts up. "I do well with feedback."

part of you wants to remain silent just for pettiness' sake, but the stronger side of you wants nothing more than to thank her for making you feel so good.

"it might just be the best head I've ever gotten."

she'd never tell you just how glad that praise makes her, but you notice it nonetheless with the way her smile widens imperceptibly, eyes flicking down shyly before raising back to you.

you reach down to where she's still on her knees, stroking her bangs back. "seriously, lee."

she hums quietly, nuzzling her nose into your palm and you smile at the little show of shyness.

after planting a kiss there, she murmurs, "well, you did say it 'might be' the best head." her mouth begins running down your arm, beginning to scatter pecks on your hipbone. "I think I can do better than that."

you nearly question her, but the feeling of her mouth causes a sharp gasp, your head lolling back. god, she's insatiable.

[glitchedoutnoms]

Yo I just bought a giant bag of gummy worms from the store.

...

Ya'll thinking what i'm thinking?

...

Well if you said vore then bingo

There's roughly 65 of them in there, I want to try and eat the whole bag but we'll see how far this goes.

Also like, genuine question. Does swallowing a bunch of gummy worms count as object vore? Like, i know it's food technically, but would it make sense if I tagged it as that? Anyone know? ^^'

[fiber-optic-alligator]

(Not a request dw)

You wake up to the feeling of needlepoint digits gingerly lifting you out of your bed. The crimson mech above you brightens up at the sight of you rousing from your wintry slumber, and his chassis begins to rumble quietly with a contented purr. "Ah, Squishy, you're awake. Good. I've got something to show you." He turns away from his carefully constructed (And completely functional) replica of your apartment to bring you over to the end of a separate table where he left part of his gift for you.

"You see, I've been doing some research on human holidays, and some such traditions. And I got an idea for something I think we'll both enjoy." He croons as you step off of his sharp servo to examine a delicately wrapped coil of rope...? You stare at the gift puzzled, then turn your gaze up to your perplexingly pleased, and purring pal.

"Soooo is it... String lights?? Like, for the Winter holidays???" Knock Out's purring briefly intensifies as he gestures towards the present once more.

"You're correct! Smart little Squishy, but there's something special about these string lights. Why don't you open it up? I'm sure you'll be quick to figure out why they're special." The mischief in his voice makes you even more suspicious of his intentions, but you comply nonetheless if only to satiate your own curiosity. Lo and behold, a coil of...

"Wait. Are these Energon gummy string lights?? What? Where'd you get these?" Your question goes unanswered, but you can hear KO's pedes clicking closer.

So, have you caught on to my scheme yet?" Knock Out's mounting excitement gives away his approach as he picks up the edible string lights, and begins to unwind them. Staring at you with a mischievously hungry look on his face. You sigh, and roll your eyes at his antics as his lifts you up in his currently unoccupied servo to begin winding the candy lights around your body in a safe, but very... particular manner.

So this was why he requested that you sleep in your (freshly washed) nomming/bathing suit... You should've known..

"Now this should be fun. Painless, but fun." He purrs hungrily as he lifts you above his helm by the end of the extra string. His eyes dilate at the delicious sight of how the Energon gummy lights glow against your bound form. Before long, he begins to lower you into his open intake. His pristine dentae glinting with the light emanating from the Energon.

Once you touch down in his intake, he can't hold himself back any longer as he begins to thoroughly enjoy this new mix of intoxicating flavors. His pleased moans rattle through your ribcage, joining his loud rumbling purrs as he tastes you with gusto. As you're rolled about in his mouth helpless to the press of his glossa, or the way you're quickly soaked in his solvent, or the manner in which his barely restrained pleasure hums through you, you're at least a little glad that he has it in himself to be gentle as he toys with you.

Though he undoubtedly delights in your inability to struggle away from his glossa, even if he doesn't push his luck too far.

It's as you're being pushed about in his mouth, that you notice the little Energon gummies you're tied up with dissolving in his solvent. Little lights disappearing one by one, and the inside of Knock Out's intake darkens further with each cheeky swipe of his glossa. Once the gummies dissolve completely, he sees fit to sloooowly tilt his helm back, holding the other end of the string lights between his dentae. Once the excess is pulled taught, he simply waits with you being suspended in front of the flexing, greedy entrance of his throat.

Once you come to a stop, you use your legs and the light-barren string to stand yourself up in the back of his mouth. Making the crimson mech chuckle lowly at the feel of your tiny pedes poking around at his glossa. But the strain your activity puts on the gummy string causes it to snap, and you stumble backwards into the hungry void behind you. Greeted thusly by a thunderous Glk, and loud rumbling purrs from the mech who was only too happy to use you as a wriggling hard candy.

And as you course down his powerful throat, he can't help but trace your progress down his esophagus with a claw. Shuttering his optics at the pure bliss that comes with his squishy human's futile struggles, and their irreplaceable taste that he wouldn't trade for anything. The rest of their bindings will dissolve harmlessly once they settle into the warm, plush, mesh confines of his tanks so he'll be able to feel them move around in there.

But, Oh, how he hopes that this was as good for them as it was for him. Though he believes that they seem to prefer the time they spend in his tanks rather than his intake. Hm! Oh well. Now that he's hidden them away, he can enact the next leg of his plan to cheer them up in time for the holidays. Though before he can get too far, their familiar voice pipes up from his midsection. "Hey, didn't you say there was going to be a two-parter? Where's the other half?"

"Hhhmmmm... I don't know. Maybe we'll find it along the way when you spend the rest of the day with me, hm? Perhaps gifting you with my time, and attention ought to be present enough in itself." The partial lie comes easily, and he purrs quietly at the feeling of them settling down grumpily inside him. Now, to sneakily decorate their mini-habsuite, and wrap the rest of their gifts.

-Not a Request Anon

WHAJXJENFBRHEJFJD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!! GOSH NOT A REQUST ANON YOU PROVIDE THE BEST KNOCKOUT THOUGHTS!!!

I am a smart little squishy hehehehehe

This is absolutely perfect. Total gold. I LOVE the use of the string and the Energon gummies. I’ve always had a soft spot for food being involved with vore and this does not disappoint. Idk the idea of being consumed with literal food really sets the mindset of being eaten alive in stone.

[jjtheresidentbaby]

hi mootie!! first of all your blog looks absolutely beautiful I wanna eat it!! nom nom :3

and second a rq: any hcs for reg!van & cg!tai?? or a blurb or whatever you're comfortable with doing for them atm!! (/nf ofc :3)

⋆˚ ౨ৎ ˖ ⋆.. little!van & caregiver!tai headcanons ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ ˚₊

eee hii! thank you for the compliment! I spent forever looking for the perfect set up for my nav post hehe - also I could totally make a part two of this if you’d like!

warnings: pre canon & canon events mentioned , little!nat & cg!travis mention

started before the crash at one of their many sleepovers at tai’s house!

van is superrrrr anxious & shy about her regression at first but tai takes to the cg role in no time at all

lost of playing outside!

they use the excuse that they’re practicing to try and get to nationals but it mostly dissolves into van giggling while keeping the ball from tai and tai pretending to be worse than she is so van can win

van’s a kiddo regressor but can sometimes fall to the toddler range

tai has no preference for what age range van falls to and is prepared for everything

she always has a first aid kit on standby for when van inevitably scrapes up her knee or gets sticks stuck in her hair

after the crash, van does her best to not regress or even talk about the possibility

they’re trying to survive and van thinks her regressing would only be a bad thing in a time like this

of course tai is adamant that if she needs to regress she should and nothing should stop her from coping, especially with what’s going on

the first time van does regress in the wilderness it’s in private while it’s still warm out and tai & her can go to the lake for a bit

the others don’t find out van’s a little until winter comes and she’s bound to the cabin because it’s too cold to go out and play

tai is more nervous than van is about the other finding out, but that’s mostly because van is too small in her headspace to think about it, mostly everyone is okay with van regressing with a few exceptions but everybody comes around eventually

van & nat start to play together by the fire while tai & travis watch over them

tai takes a lot of pride in how she cares for van and how happy she can make her kiddo

van’s regression doesn’t become emotional for her until after jackie dies & they’re forced to eat her

she struggles a lot with feeling ‘worthy’ of regressing since jackie lost the rest of her youth

taissa always logics her way out of that spiral and most times it ends in van involuntarily regressing and curling up with tai as tai tells her a story

van is ofc the groups storyteller but she loves it when tai tells her made up stories while she’s small, and she may add her two cents every now and then but tai doesn’t mind & welcomes van to show her creativity

once it’s warm again, lots of games of tag & made up adventure games ensue now that the other girls know about van’s regression and she doesn’t have to hide or be worried

tai absolutely thrives seeing how much light returns to van during the spring/summer

[stuckonyvalentinecards]

On Valentine's night, creators were revealed for the Stuckony Valentine Cards event!

THANK YOU to everyone who participated!

Click here to go to our collection!

Below the cut, you can find a masterpost of all our Valentines!

Death By Chocolate by KandiSheek

Stucky / Rated T

Bucky is dying on the couch. Steve is surprisingly unsympathetic.

-

"I love you" is on the tip of my tongue by Biased_bisexual

Stuckony / Rated G

-

I'll Take Care of You by KandiSheek

Stuckony / Rated T

Steve has never liked being in heat, but Bucky and Tony make it a lot more bearable.

-

If This Feeling Flows Both Ways by Satirickitty

WinterIron / Rated T

Bucky just wants to say thanks, but you know, without having to actually say words out loud. Notes are a perfect solution, right? Right?

-

Just Like Magic by Naivelittleprincess

WinterIron / Rated G

Tony has a new hobby. Bucky is-maybe-his number one fan.

-

Little Murder Baby by swtalmnd

Stuckony / Rated G

By the time Steve had gotten there, Tony was already in love, and Alpine already had a name.

-

love is a tower where all of us can live by soliloquent

WinterIron / Rated G

“A metal-armed supersoldier materializes before him, intruding into Tony’s line of sight and obstructing his project. The trespasser holds two plates of food and regards Tony with an unreadable, almost disinterested look.

Tony sighs internally. Why did he think adopting all these orphaned Avengers was a good idea?”

—⎊—

or: Five times Bucky takes care of Tony and one time Tony realizes why. ❤️

-

Nom! [ART] by MassiveSpaceWren

Stuckony / Rated G

Super-soldiers have an appetite. Tony did NOT expect this.

-

Plush by fohatic

Stony / Rated E

Tony couldn’t understand the reasoning behind all of it. For Steve to leave one stuffed animal for him was nice enough. A couple more was slight overkill, but still quite sweet. A couple dozen was something else, entirely.

-

The Plushies Thank You Heat by Aquatigermice

Stuckony / Rated E

Bucky and Steve decided to get Tony something he always wanted.

The results of which bring some rather sudden and attention demanding courses of action into play.

This is about the aftermath.

-

Red String [ART] by MassiveSpaceWren

WinterIron / Rated G

Bound together by fate, they finally found each other.

-

Safe in your Arms [ART] by MassiveSpaceWren

WinterIron / Rated G

Finally, Bucky is back in Tony's arms, where he longs to be.

-

Scentsational by swtalmnd for newtypeshadow

Stuckony / Rated T

Tony goes to a scent-matching service, and matches with our bonded couple, Steve and Bucky.

-

Shelter from the Cold [ART] by MassiveSpaceWren

WinterIron / Rated T

Knights Bucky and Steve are trying to keep their king protected in the snow storm.

-

So Soft and Gentle by TrinityDay

Stucky / Rated T

Five times people noticed that Steve Rogers liked soft things (and one time someone told him to his face).

-

Stranded [ART] by MassiveSpaceWren

Stuckony / Rated G

The terrain is rough, but Steve, Tony and Bucky treck onwards. Maybe after the next mountain ridge, they will find out where they are.

-

What You Don't Know Can't Hurt You by KandiSheek

Stony / Rated T

Steve and Tony are good friends. Very good friends. The kind of friends that go out to eat every other day, cuddle on the couch and are all up in each others' space.

They're not dating though. No matter what the team says. Right?

-

You Are The Moon That Breaks The Night by MercurialMagpie

Stuckony / Rated E

Mage Tony and werewolves Bucky and Steve are the best cursebreaking team in Nova York. Maybe they can be more, too?

-

you are the sweetest melody i never sung by soliloquent for Naivelittleprincess

Stuckony / Rated T

“A soft tune cuts through his thoughts and seeps right in between the cracks of his broken mind. It sounds like a slow, gentle piano song, and it soothes his senses, numbs his tension, and lulls him to the smooth edge of sleep.”

—⎊—

or: Bucky struggles with insomnia, Tony plays the piano, and Steve just wants the two most important men in his life to get along. 🎶

-

You Have My Sword As Well As My Heart by Aquatigermice

Stuckony / Rated E

Sir Steven Rogers would like to admit that he thinks this whole Royal Progress thing is a very stupid idea. But it's the King's idea. And no one is above the King when it's all said and done.

But the fact of the matter is that even his King is just human. And there was a time when the man was something less important to the country. Yet still as important to Steve and his fellow knight Sir James Barnes.

-

[phighting-bean-husbandry]

hello! Scythe owner here! ever since I got her a lot of toys she's been a bit less destructive, she's still nomming on the sofa at times but overall massive improvement! but now I find myself in a little predicament and need urgent help a relative of mine will be leaving the city for a week so I have to take care of their beans, I didn't mind it until I was told it was a Katana and Shuriken and now I'm afraid. I don't have much time to check on them individually but I don't want them to be in the same room! I just need tips on how to deal with many beans at once and how to avoid them getting too aggressive

Oh, now that's a very complicated situation. Katanas and Scythes might as well be mortal enemies, so this is going to have to be handled VERY carefully. The Shuriken also complicates things, as Katanas tend to be quite protective over Shurikens (as well as Vine Staffs and Slingshots, but those two aren't a focus here).

Since you don't have the time to keep them as apart as possible, I'd see about setting up some sort of barrier (for ease of checking, something see-through but sturdy) in a room that's large enough where all three beans can exist, but won't be in contact. Keep your Scythe on one side of the barrier, and the Katana and Shuriken together on the other side. Make sure your Scythe is as well fed as possible, as hunger mixed with already present hostility will only make her more likely to attack if she finds a way to reach the others.

The Shuriken is very likely to try to get over whatever barrier you set up, and unfortunately, Shurikens are extremely skilled at getting into places they shouldn't be. While your Scythe likely won't be overly hostile towards the Shuriken, it's best for the Katana's stress levels to make sure that barrier is as protected as possible.

Unfortunately there's no real way to prevent the tension bound to occur from this, so all we can do is mitigate the risk of violence. Good luck with dealing with all this--heres to hoping nothing too bad will happen.

As for dealing with multiple beans at once:

Keep track of feeding times, and try to keep them steady, so all get food at the same time and will be less likely to try to steal food from each other.

Set up toys they can play with without your control, so they can entertain each other. This is mostly in regards to the Shuriken and Katana--as for Scythe, keep up whatever play schedule you have with her, and maybe up it just a bit during this week. If she's tuckered out from play, she'll be far less likely to get overly hostile. I'd also recommend making sure to play with the Shuriken often so he'll be less likely to try to break into Scythe's area.

Keep as close of an eye on them all for the first day or two if you can to ensure nothing happens between them.

Again, good luck with this! I wish you and all three beans the best of luck and a smooth week.

[thegodthief]

Let me think of a question yes it is the ask box....... Would you be okay sharing more about the spirits you work with? I don't need like a list of details but more like, how have they impacted your life, I guess? And what is your relationship to them

As is my habit, I'll begin at the end.

There is nothing new written under the jump. Rather, it is all observations and statements I have made over time about spirits that long-time readers will recognize immediately.

"Adiutor" is a familiar given to me by Malphas for reasons only known to him. I didn't ask for her, and when she first made her appearance, it took Malphas holding me still and formally introducing her for me to believe it. She had a different nom de plume in my public writings for a while, but wanted something formal after it became clear that Malphas may have given me a familiar, but what I received was a secretary.

She has helped me with the timing of some things, and the finding of some things, the working of some things, and the interaction of some things. To receive her meant creating a physical anchor for her, which I did in the form of a simple poppet. Something specific went into the body of that poppet such that when I'm calling upon her but I'm not in the immediate vicinity of the poppet, I feel that specific something inside the proper place within my body.

(So once upon a witching night, when something tried to lure me away claiming to be her, now you know why I knew at once that it wasn't her. You can't dupe the tell if you don't know what it is.)

She will assist with Cyprianic work, but anything "purely" angelic can fuck right on out. I've also noticed certain boundaries that she refuses to cross and boundaries that she will not cross, and I think it's best for all involved that I not try to force those issues.

~

"Hollow" is... a friend. He's not a familiar, not bound to direct service, not a servitor. What I know of his past is that he has been wandering for quite a while and found a nice cozy place to rest in the flame of an non-dedicated candle. When the candle extinguished I thought that would be the last of his presence, but all it took was another candle and here he is again.

I first thought he was a passing fire (aspected?) spirit that took opportunity of free room and board. But the other spirits in my krew kept telling me that he was one of the Wandering Dead and that I either needed to ground/house him, chase him off, or make him pass through, otherwise there would be trouble. What kind of trouble? The kind of trouble that come looking to make a lunch out of him and decide to make dinner out of me instead.

After some review of the matter, I offered Hollow a deal: Become part of my krew and be housed, but in return he has to work to my benefit, or move on because I found what would be coming for him shortly and I was not going to risk that hard a something for that much of a nothing. He chose to stay. A suitable ceramic device was obtained and he was installed in it via a ritual that went sideways at the worst possible time because of very terrifying reasons and confirmed that Hollow was once human and that it's always a good idea to research the peoples that were in the land that you are now because they may be gone but their ancestors and gods are still very much around.

He now keeps watch over my spaces and receives tea candles burned inside his container as payment and amusement. It's like watching an old man savoring a good cuppa tea.

~

"Patient Caller" is the reason I looked into St. Cyprian (of Antioch) and Cyprianic magic in the first place. During my time as a [Protestant] Christian, I had it firmly embedded in my head to avoid anything [Roman] Catholic, and of that anything regarding saints, and of them anything about Saint Cyprian in particular because he is an Evil Sorcerer™ in saintly robes. (Which was also justification for that church's literal demonization of anything Catholic because if the Catholics were too stupid to realize the demonic nature of St. Cyprian then nothing else about them could be trusted.)

I had always known he was "hanging around" me, but because reasons, he couldn't approach me unless I summoned him to me first. Which I did, over a literal life-changing series of thirty days.

Let's talk about learning the hard way that fire is hot, water is wet, and just because you can see spirits doesn't mean that you can do jacque shitte about it.

I had left Christianity for over a decade by the time I tried that series of summons. Oh, I was so sure of myself and my ability to magic. So sure that all I had to do was read these well-vetted words from the Book of Oberon, and use this half-fucked, school-glue stitched ritual to get exactly what I wanted from The Spirits™ without any repercussion whatsoever because I was a Magus™!

To the surprise of none of you readers, I got my ass kicked, coming and going. I became oath-bound to get a particular ring that would bind Patient Caller to me, bind me to the life of a magician, and bind me to a particular path of magic which in hindsight is hilarious as fuck, because it's the very path that the Christian churches I was in were willing to kill me to prevent. (That ring has been obtained.)

But, along the way, I took the steps necessary to get myself and my daughter out of a very dangerous situation and to start our lives over. I confronted several of my fears. I confronted portions of myself that I never wanted to consider, much less reconcile with.

Sometimes, because trauma, it is difficult for me to interact with anything Christian or Christianity-adjacent. The fact that I have TWO bibles in my book stacks is a minor miracle in itself. Patient Caller is there to help me pull myself through those Christianity-adjacent rituals. For all my pain, it is clear that this is one of my pathways, and that it is one I am very effective in working.

Because reasons, I have a deep belief that Patient Caller is a human spirit in service to St. Cyprian, that also happens to be in my physical lineage as well as my magical.

He regards Adiutor with deep amusement and considers her presence to be a mark of achievement and progress on my part as a magician.

~

"Horatio" The first one. A gift I did not ask for. An entity that I have written as "Rummer John" from the start (and will never acknowledge the name the rest of y'all know him by because reasons) once plucked a skull from his table and handed it to me with no instruction other than to take it.

Bloody fucking hell, I was so god damn naïve. Grade-A Dumbass. No knowledge or understanding of what RJ had done. No consideration of the responsibility that had just been forced on me. Just glitter and butterflies and isn't it unethical for me, a descendant of slaves, to be the master of a spirit tee hee? This is a modern time and these are modern ways and aren't people like me supposed to be working for the enlightenment of humanity as a whole and the raising of the global consciousness? Shouldn't I be working to free the spirit trapped in the skull than to, I dunno, put the spirit to work?

The White Magic (pun very fucking much intended) that I had been taught by those few practitioners I had found around my town had taught me that I had a duty to only work good works and that the lesser, primitive magics that involved binding the spirits of the dead was unethical and the mark of a wounded soul. The few that I felt safe telling my story to impressed upon me a necessity to release Horatio "into the Light™" as soon as possible.

I found out the hard way that RJ had bound Horatio to me in such a way that the only way to release him from my service is for me to die first. Like. Literal death.

I didn't know what to do with him, so I let him do anything. A couple of years of bullshit later, he allowed me to get hurt by an avoidable harm that left physical marks. I finally realized I was way over my head and sought council of someone I trusted. That someone dragged me through the school of hard knocks while also teaching me how to be a spirit's master, and of that all I can say is that there is nothing in mainstream culture that will ever prepare you for the world of the spirits. The only way to cross that river is to get in, learn to swim, and hope you survive the effort.

Horatio earned that moniker when he found out that I had been writing publicly of him but using a name other than what he had given me. He demanded to be called "Yorick" after that one reference in that one play, but by that time I was starting to get tired of his shit and said no, that I would write "Horatio" instead because he didn't earn the right to be called out with respect. (It is a common error to say the name of the skull in that play is Horatio instead of Yorick. And the skull in that play is regarded reverently for reasons far beyond what I can get into here. But trust me, the 'misname' was a deliberate slight.)

In time I learned that Horatio could intervene for me regarding a certain class of spirits. A class that I was excluded from direct interaction with because of my (lack of) upbringing and cultural descent. In exploring that possibility, I learned more about myself, my heritage(s) that my family lineages did not want to acknowledge, and that some connections can and will jump barriers deliberate and ignorant.

He is currently keeping watch over my space with Hollow, with whom he superficially bickers with even as they watch each other's metaphorical backs. But as my studies into what I can and can't do keep turning in upon itself, I have a strong feeling that I am going to bring him back to the fore.

~

There are others. Ancestors. Gods. Powers. Forces of the land. Angels of divinity. Angels that have nothing to do with divinity. Things I see awake. Things I see in dreams. Things I see when 'hypnogogia' is too sterile a word for the state I am in. There is a dragon I pass to and from work but our worlds are not aligned well anymore so we just nod in mutual muted awareness as I go.

There are entities that I will no longer speak of because the world has changed and what was a trivial thing to muse upon before would be disrespectful to whisper in code now.

There are entities I encountered in oath-bound rituals that I can't speak of, and entities that I had encountered prior to those rituals, but because of their involvement, I will never speak publicly of them again.

I really thought my world had become small and that I had lost sight of so much. But in working out what to write here and what to write about, I realize that I haven't lost sight of anything. I just forgot to look up. I had... am... permitting the mundanity of taxes and reports and meetings to take over space that had been set aside for the world that encompasses such things.

I thought I had lost my touch.

I forgot what it is to feel.

Okay. Let's go.

[mariacallous]

The day after the plane crash that apparently killed both Yevgeny Prigozhin and his right-hand man Dmitry Utkin (who gave his nom-de-guerre “Wagner” to the entire Wagner Group), local residents and leaderless mercenaries gathered by the former PMC Wagner Center in St. Petersburg. The flowers, candles, and other offerings they brought heaped up into a sprawling memorial to a man who had gained immense notoriety, both in Russia and abroad, for his private military company’s role in Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Ekaterina Barkalova, a reporter writing for the independent Russian outlet Bumaga, visited the memorial and spoke to the people who came to honor Prigozhin. With the publication’s permission, Meduza is publishing an abridged translation of her reportage on why many Russians admired Prigozhin, despite his criminal biography and Wagner Group’s reputation for grotesque violence and colossal losses of mercenaries’ lives.

A burial mound in the midst of St. Petersburg

At noon, the time when mourners were asked to gather at the former PMC Wagner Center, around 50 people stand in front of the office building. A mound of loose soil left behind by city landscapers must have reminded someone of a burial site: within a short time, it’s covered with red carnations and begins to really look like a fresh grave.

Mothers with children, teens, and men in military uniforms marked with “Z” patches all show up carrying flowers and Wagner banners. Crossing themselves before the memorial, they step away to make room for others. “Teaching the kids respect,” says a woman holding a pair of red-headed twin boys by the hands.

A uniformed man in a balaclava has fallen to his knees before the mound. His whole body shakes as he bursts into tears. He turns out to be a currently enlisted mercenary. Another Wagner fighter says he is going to stay on with the private military company. “We’re a brotherhood,” he says, and “you can’t trade your family for another.” “We’re all of the same blood. We’re bound by the blood we shed in Bakhmut, Slovyansk, and Popasna. Life is hard here,” he says, gesturing at the civilian life around him, “but easy at the front.”

Over there, you know who’s who, both your enemies and your friends. Here, you can’t sort it out. It’s like a disease. People who try to quit manage for a couple of weeks. But there’s that pull to go back.

A police car passes by the memorial a few times. The operatives inside are watching the mourners, but the car doesn’t stop. A group of people, likely associated with Wagner Group, are attending the memorial, keeping order.

In the afternoon, a courier arrives with an enormous wreath. He adds it to the growing mound of offerings without telling anyone who had paid for it. Shortly afterwards, a young man named Dmitry brings a sledgehammer to the memorial site. This reminds the crowd of the brutal executions practiced by Wagner mercenaries.

“Prigozhin liked sledgehammers,” Dmitry says, explaining that he got this particular tool from his friends, some of them former Wagner mercenaries.

“He didn’t like sledgehammers,” objects a woman from the crowd. “It was just a symbol,” she says.

Dmitry bows to the public. A state television crew asks him to lay the sledgehammer again, for a TV segment. He lays it on the flowers again. And again.

A man and his son are arranging votive candles into cross shapes. “When it gets dark, the cross will be visible from up there,” the man says, heaving a sigh as he gestures towards the heavens.

When the memorial is already heaped high with flowers, flags, chevrons, and the sledgehammer, a young woman comes with a drawing and adds it to the mound. It’s a drawing of a cute capybara with Wagner insignia. Next to the capybara, a handwritten message is scrawled: “We’ll always remember you. Should we still believe in a better future, Pops?” The artist dries her eyes with a tissue. One of her friends, she says, also served in Wagner Group.

The former PMC Wagner building’s new occupants are watching the crowd from a distance. They work for Megastroy, a company that moved into the former PMC Wagner Center after Prigozhin’s mutiny fizzled out on June 24. “We’ve read the news,” one of them says. “We think it’s a staged death. Prigozhin must be in Hawaii now, drinking cocktails.”

The night before, the building’s 13th floor was lit, the lights forming the shape of a cross. Employees working in the building now don’t think it was intentional.

Who mourns Prigozhin and why

Many of those who came to say farewell to Prigozhin have a personal connection to Wagner Group. Some writers who worked for his “troll farm” from last November to June joined the crowd briefly but declined to talk to journalists. Some visitors sympathize with the PMC because they know someone who serves there or died as a Wagner mercenary.

At a distance, a group of men in military camouflage look like current Wagner fighters.

A pair of teenage boys

We came to honor the memory of a great Russian man and patriot who fought for our Fatherland. We’d like to join the PMC ourselves, but we’re not 18 yet.

A Wagner fighter

I took the news really hard. The commander’s death — I don’t know if he’s really dead, they haven’t confirmed that yet, have they? We’re waiting to hear this isn’t true. We absolutely don’t want this to be true. It’s a heartache, it’s like your next-of-kin. What are we gonna without him?

The mercenary says he met Prigozhin in person: he used to visit the troops. The speaker joined the PMC long before 2022. He has a hard time believing that Prigozhin and Utkin could be dead. “They always had some moves in reserve,” he says. Besides, the paramilitary group wouldn’t let something like this just slide. Though partly under the Defense Ministry’s control, it’s a force unto itself in Africa, he argues. “Those who did it will be caught and punished very harshly.”

“Do you realize who those pilots were?” he says about the crew of Prigozhin’s executive jet. “They were the best pilots in the world — pilots who could fly without a plane!”

Prigozhin had plenty of enemies, because he always told the truth. He said everything just how it was, without embellishment or hypocrisy. Not how they do it today on TV and everywhere else — it’s all liars the world over. He was our fighting spirit. He had our back.

He doesn’t believe that Ukraine could have been interested in the crash. “There’s plenty of villains here too,” he says about Russia, “people who will do anything for $100 — sell whatever, break whatever, damage the infrastructure.” Wagnerites, on the other hand, “had ironclad discipline” and “never had any problems with civilians,” he is certain.

An entrepreneur who arranged candles into cross shapes

How could you not worship a hero? There are very few of them left in our country. Since the day he founded Wagner Group, he was a man of his word. He said he’d capture Bakhmut no matter the cost, and he did it. God only knows what he had to do when no one gave him [the ammunition] he needed, but he did everything he said he would.

“It’s a pity to lose such a huge presence — and he was a huge presence for about two years,” the speaker goes on. “Time will tell what comes next. Our people act first and think later. I’m more than certain this was no accident,” he says about the crash and those who presumably arranged it. He doesn’t think this is the end of Wagner Group, though. “Our guys went horizontal in droves when [the authorities] needed it. And they will be needed again,” he adds, referring to combat operations. “Africa is nothing,” he shrugs.

A man who says he was connected to Prigozhin ‘by way of the special operation’

These dead are Russia’s most remarkable people who had a vivid, clear position and broadcast it everywhere. This is why there’re people here with flowers, and why they’re crying. They know that the people who were really doing something for our country — who had real victories, and whom everybody loved — they have been taken away. This is why we’re here to show our support for the rest.

“We don’t really care what happens to his assets,” the speaker adds. “Everybody knows what will happen to those assets. But it would be interesting to see what becomes of Wagner Group itself.” He hopes that the PMC won’t fall apart but “keeps serving the country.”

A woman who brought a single flower

“I think of him as a hero,” says a woman with a flower, adding that the mutiny didn’t change her attitude. She thinks that the crash was a “provocation,” and that both Ukraine and the Russian opposition are responsible. The destabilizing “fifth column” is everywhere, she thinks, and trouble in the country is just beginning.

[sylviazem]

FFXIV Write 2023- Prompt #16: Jerk

"So", Fjola poured herself a fifth drink and put the bottle away in the cabinet. She was alone with Bluebird, as Ekiki had left when she got a sudden notification from a merchant she was going to meet, and Nebula had already gone to sleep. "You're some kind of Allagan machine?"

"Affirmative", Bluebird replied. "Would you like to hear a comprehensive explanation about my specifications?"

"No, thank you. I doubt I'd understand any of it. Though, I have seen my fair share of Allagan automatons", she sipped her drink. "You seem...Special, somehow."

"Thank you. That is factually correct; I am far more advanced than any other android model."

"...May I", Fjola coyly circled the edge of her glass with her finger. "Might I touch your skin? I-I'm just curious."

"By all means."

"Wow", Fjola brushed her hand against Bluebird's cheeks and arms, occasionally giving her a soft poke with her finger. "It feels...real but also...artificial at the same time! How curious..."

"Highly advanced materials were used to create a lifelike, yet durable surface covering."

"It's certainly impressive", Fjola's hands continued to wander. "Can you...feel?"

"Yes. Synthetic skin and muscle fibers are woven with haptic receptors, which allow me to- Eek!" Fjola's hand happened to brush against Bluebird's lower back, which gave her hips a sudden jerk. "...It appears said receptors have partially malfunctioned and are hypersensitive in certain areas. Apologies."

"...I've never heard a machine make that kind of sound", Fjola giggled and poked her back softly again. "Cute."

"Ah! Please", Bluebird backed away and covered herself with her hands. "Please refrain from touching sensitive areas! Sensory overload can disrupt cognitive and motor functions..."

"That sounds dangerous", Fjola walked over to the couch and sat down, patting her thighs. "Maybe we should chart out your sensitive areas so we can fix them later."

"...I believe miss Fjola might be terribly intoxicated", Bluebird reluctantly walked over and sat on her lap. "But your statement is not without logic."

"Miss Fjola gets a little handsy when she's drunk. How about we use a scale of one to ten", Fjola laughed and rubbed her hands up Bluebird's shins and thighs. "Feel anything out of the ordinary?"

"Two. No abnormalities."

"All right", she continued up her belly and sides. "Here?"

"Seven..!" Again, Bluebird twitched suddenly. "Flagged for adjustments."

"And how about here..?" Fjola playfully squeezed her chest, completely lost in the spirits at this point. "...Shquishy and shoft!"

"Five...Within acceptable bounds."

"Nom" Fjola softly bit Bluebird's neck, which made her entire body stiffen up for a brief moment. "Oh my."

"T...ten" Her power supply was humming loudly. "Flagged for immediate adjustment."

"All right, I'm back with the new memory bank for-" Ekiki entered through the door, back from her mercantile dealings. "...I leave for half a bell. And you're groping the ancient android."

"Please do not misunderstand, Ekiki. Miss Fjola is helping me flag malfunctioning haptic receptors for adjustment."

"Yeah", Fjola let out a silly, drunken laugh. "It's just...haptic...s."

"...Uh-huh", Ekiki glowered at Fjola. "You're drunk, how about you go to bed and I get to work on installing this new memory for Bluebird?"

"Boo, okay...", Fjola flopped over on the couch and hugged a pillow. "As if you wouldn't want to grope a cute robot girl..."

"Yeah, yeah, fall asleep already. Sheesh."