#rip funky set

[im-smart-i-swear]

Does Tashi have the memories upto the kerberos mission or before the mission? (Also love that he's being 'I do not see' about the entire clone thing, love that for him)

Im not really sure about it tbh! The option i'm leaning the most into is that he has Shiro's memories up to a few months/weeks before the mission. It just makes everything so much worse for him beacuse he doesnt even know about Shiro and Adam' Whole Thing.

For him it looks like one moment he was preparing for the biggest mission of his life and the next thing he knows, he wakes up surrounded by dozens of fucking corpses who look like him why do they all look like him

also i like to headcanon that the reason for why there were so many of the clones there is bc those are the failed attempts - discarded bc of mistakes in the cloning process or failed memory transfers or something(most of em were propably braindead or unable to survive)(dont ask me how the guys even survived falling from however high that place was. that's not importrant)

Tashi knows something's wrong from the beginning - some of his memories are disjointed or missing, there are names and places he should remember but he doesnt, and they all feel distant - but he pushes all his doubts and suspicions deep down beacuse there are people who need him here.

pretty much the same goes for taks and taka too! all three of them came to a mutual understanding that its best to just try and not to mention the fact they have the exact same name and life stories. theres more importrant things to think about like, y'know, not dying!!

Thank you for the ask!

[sluttish-armchair]

”I will have no part of it because I am a responsible adult who pays taxes and has trash pickup on Tuesdays”

Why is this guy so relatable lol I love him

[cantankerouscatfish]

working in the dirt is fun bc like. is that mud or bloodstains on my clothes? don’t even worry about it. :)

[thefunkfactory]

Biker Breath

Zane was riding home from work on his bicycle when he passed a pile of stuff sitting on the curb with a sign attached saying “For Free”. Zane stopped to inspect what all was left out on the street and saw a super nice looking biker helmet, carefully picking it up he noticed some scratches and dings on the helmet but besides that it was still in perfect working condition. While he was examining it Zane noticed the rancid scent emanating out of the helmet. Holding his nose, Zane began to put the helmet back onto the curb when he heard a voice in his head that wasn’t his, it was a deeper, more masculine voice demanding him to put the helmet on. Wanting to resist, Zane set the helmet down and turned his back to it and the other stuff on the curb when the voice again demanded “Put on the helmet”, Zane was overcome with the need to put the helmet on. As he lifted the helmet up over his head Zane pleaded with the voice “Please…No…It reeks”. Feeling the voice command him to lower the helmet on his head, Zane’s mind and body obediently obeyed as he lost control of both. Upon lowering the helmet onto his head Zane could smell the reeking stench of the helmet. It reeked of sweat and B.O., the previous owner had obviously never even attempted to clean it.

Regaining consciousness and control of his body, Zane tried to take the helmet off, but quickly he heard the voice command “Breath in deep wimp” Zane once again obediently followed orders and took in a deep whiff of the helmet’s noxious stench. Zane would have normally been disgusted but he wasn’t, in fact he loved the rancid stench of sweat trapped in the helmet. Zane heard another command echo through his head, “Get on your puny bike loser”. Zane sat on his metal bicycle and began to pedal away. With every pedal, he bike became more akin to what a real man would ride. It slowly transformed into a fast and slick motorcycle.

Zane revved the bike instinctually and he felt his dick shoot to life at the same time, it was weird, Zane never was interested in motorcycles but his body was aching for more. Zane’s puny body was sitting atop a nice expensive motorcycle now but his body and face were still that of a wimpy nerd. That was soon to change, the voice started describing what a biker boy should be like. “Biker boys are unhygienic beasts who never wear deodorant, shower once a week, and never brush their teeth, all of that is for weak pussies” Zane could suddenly remember why the helmet smelled so bad, it was HIS stench that was infused into the helmet. Zane breathed in another deep whiff of the stink HE cultivated and let out a pleasurable sigh, breathing out a torrent of funky smelling breath, Zane added to the stench and made himself more loopy. Feeling his weak body get light and tingly Zane kept riding his newly minted motorcycle, he stopped at a red light and looked over at the car next to him, “Had I always had such big muscles?” Zane thought to himself as he saw his reflection in the car’s window. “No…can’t be I…” he took a breath in and inhaled more of his noxious B.O. and bad breath, “…I have always been this buff duhhh” Zane pulled off and sped home away from the stop light. Arriving home his brother was getting out of his car in the driveway, pulling up was surprised when he saw the man on the motorcycle, he looked like a stranger to him. “Hey man I think you got the wrong address” Zane’s brother told the now insanely ripped Zane, “Whatchu mean bro this my crashpad!” Zane said loudly. “Nah my brother lives here with me and my dad not you” Zanes brother remarked. Zane got off his bike and walked up to his little bro, “Heeeeeeeeeeey man chillax…no need to get your pantiessssss in a bunch” Zane drew out certain syllables on words so that he could breathe out his nasty breath that smelled like he had just eaten garlic, and fish, and hadn’t brushed his teeth in weeks. Zane’s brother’s eyes glazed over upon smelling his older brother’s stale and stinky breath, “Oh hey bro welcome home” Zane reached an arm around his brother’s shoulder and they walked to the house together. “Yeaaaaaaahhh you love your big bro’s stinking breath dont cha lil man” Zane laughed and purposely let out a blast of his funky breath into his brother’s face, “Yea…bro I- I love how…stinky…your breath i- is…I wish I was m-more like you”His brother said mindlessly as if in a trance. “Well in that case lil bro I wanna take you on a ride tonight okay? You can wear my helmet I jusssssst got it” Zane breathed out more of his rank breath while he spoke. “Yea…uhh like…totally bro…” His lil bro responded not knowing that the ride would seal his fate just how his brother’s was.

[charliemwrites]

It’s been a minute - the last two weeks have been mind bogglingly stupid. But hopefully things are settling now? Idk anyway - consider this something to tide yall over until I can put out the Price/Reader/Simon fic

I am thinking about that threshold of dating when you get past all the prettiness. Like, when being human just becomes part of the relationship. It stops being carefully picked outfits, styled hair, nice perfume/cologne, careful bites of food.

I’m talking about the intimacy of stupid, stupid shit. I’m talking about the first time Krueger calls your name and you reply in a little gremlin voice “wHaT”.

I’m talking about Simon bringing home a treat for you and you do a weird little run, arms swinging and knees coming up too high, to get it from him.

Kyle staring in a mix of horror and fond exasperation as you quote, word for word and perfect intonation, your favorite bit from a YouTube video or tv show or comedy special.

Baffling Nikto by having a stupid ongoing bit that he doesn’t understand and you refuse to explain. Something like, “and I’m gonna eat your captain, of course”. What does that mean? You’re going to eat him?? “Yeah, with salt and butter. Nom nom.”

You pull that bit where you do shitty cosplays of characters. Johnny nearly pissed himself when you wandered into the kitchen covered in green paint with construction paper ears, mumbling in a little old man voice “consume cheez-its, I must, or rip Kenobi a new one, I will.”

Dancing badly, like not even cute badly, just BADLY in the kitchen or while you’re cleaning. It looks almost like you’re having a seizure really. Price is about two seconds from banning that “shake it” song by neon trees

Konig fears “Squirrel Girl” - his pretty little girlfriend disappears to be replaced with this creature that mutters about nesting and acorns and hibernating for winter.

Keegan just about died of embarrassment the first time you pretended his dick was microphone and leaned in close, saying “is this thing on? What’s the deal with airplane food?”

On that note - Gromsko didn’t realize having a pretty little stay at home wife like a traditional marriage meant his dick becomes fair game. She’s grabbin’ him like a handful of candies. When he asks why she points and says “that’s mine by law” and puts a bottle cap on it. “He’s got a hat now”. You make fantastic pies but you also keep asking to hold it while he pees.

You fuss at Velikan to hold still so you can preen in the visor of his helmet. You also put stickers on it and purposefully guilt trip him if he tries to remove it.

Oh and stealing clothes? Oh sure a t-shirt is hot. But their workout shorts? Their underwear or ugly military socks? Sooooo much better than the cute silk set you bought when you first started dating - for you, anyway.

I’m just so here for the weird intimacy of people moving past the aesthetic honeymoon phase of their relationship. Especially when it’s one of the guys who def hasn’t been in a comfortable long term relationship before (like konig or simon).

Same vibes as that time Robert Pattinson invited his stalker out to dinner and she lost interest because he simultaneously so weird but so boring. Not cute weird shit, just weird shit that you would never do in front of anyone else. Stupid, ugly faces and funky voices/impressions and cursed walking/running around.

[sadreligion]

⠀⠀ ׅ ⠀⠀⠀ઉ⠀⠀𓂂 ⠀ 𝆬 ׄ skater!matt sturniolo & artist!reader.

as the new york city sun has fallen into hibernation, the routine that you’ve become so familiar with falls into place. clocking out of work, 10:30PM sharp— relieved to be free from yet another excruciatingly slow day at the library. you’d hurry to catch the underground subway, tense muscles relaxing against those filthy seats you’ve grown to love. the transportation jerkingly pulls off, an obnoxious screech left behind as it makes way for the next stop.

you pull your black sketchbook out of your crowded tote, funky stickers and your name in bold lettering adorned on the front. every ounce of stress you had, exiting as you begin to draw, one of your overpriced lead pencils gliding against the paper. art was your safe place, loving everything about the craft since you could walk.. the way it conveyed how you felt with having to utter a syllable. perfection.

it’s only when the train makes a halt that your ripped from your bubble, a boy’s infectious laugh echoing through the almost deserted station as he daps his friends goodbye, stumbling into the ride shortly after. he was beautiful, facial structure something out of a greek god description. baggy jeans hanging low on his waist, the sleek calvin klein font of his boxers on display. his hair was kept hidden in a cheap beanie— shit… is he looking at you?

your eyes immediately dart away from the stranger, gaze falling anywhere but him. you could feel his blue orbs burning into you still, the temptation to make eye contact making you sweat. it was as if he was begging, daring you to look up. finally, you push that scared feeling down before ripping the bandaid, wide eyes flickering to his curious ones.

a soft smile grows on his face, the shitty overhead light reflecting onto his invisalign. your expression mirrors his, a sense of comfortability filling up the space. neither of you knew who the other was but god, everything felt so familiar, so warm. his eyes flicker down to the sketchbook sprawled across your lap, the neat yet expressive drawings speaking life into him.

he gets up from his seat across, plopping his body right next to yours. he sets his custom skateboard down on the floor, samba covered feet coming to rest atop, keeping it in place. a pair of hands reach out, fingers wiggling as if silently asking to see your work up close. you nod with a idiotic smile, carefully placing the gem in his palms.

“y’drew these?… this shit is… woah. got a lil’ van gogh on m’hands…” he praises, his ring-clad digits flipping through the pages as his curiosity runs wild. a soft hum leaves your throat, turning a couple pages to show him your newest work. oil pastels smudged and swiped perfectly into place, pen work underneath for guidelines, his eyes widening with amazement.

“not even close t’being like him… i jus’… draw sometimes..” you brush off his very obvious compliment, foot tapping against the train floor. he scoffs, fluffy hair moving with a shake of his head. no, he saw your potential, the possibility of you. reading people was his superpower.. apparently. “nah, there’s more to it then that… feel it in m’bones. never seen sumthin’ like this before..” you roll your eyes playfully at his words, taking the gallery back and shoving it in your bag.

after a few beats of silence, the small screen on the wall reads that your stop was up next, the conversation slowly coming to an end. the boy looks over at you, a gigantic light bulb going off in his head as he speaks. “yo… uh, y’should pull up to the skatepark.. tomorrow. the one downtown. screams you.. i can show y’the pretty art n’ all that..” he explains, a hint of nervousness laced throughout in his tone..

your eyebrows furrow at the invitation, not really sure how to respond seeing as you just met him 10 minutes ago. the train pulls into a stop, the automatic doors sliding open as you stand, gathering your things. “don’t even know y’name…” you counter, a grin peeking through that neutral expression you tired so hard to keep.

the mystery boy shrugs, a sly smile adorning his pink lips. “s’a good thing, right? now y’got a reason to lemme see y’again… tomorrow! don’t forget! ” he yells after you, his pink muscle running along his retainer as you rush to make the door, biding him farewell. oh, he was hooked. and there was no doubt in his mind that you were too.

© SADRELIGION.

˖ㅤㅤ ֗ ㅤㅤ ࣭ ㅤ ⋆ㅤㅤ ۪ㅤ﹢ㅤ ࣪ ㅤ NOTES! guys, it’s literally 2:24AM, im running on mochi ice cream and a water…. my apologies if this is bad :((((((( i just wanted to introduce them to u guys asap bc i luv them so much and they mean the world to me…. okay baiiiii

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

This is a mashup of various tropes. Don’t like don’t read. May include

- deaged danny

- Damian x Dani (serious chaos)

- dead Jazz

- dead Sam

- dead Tucker

- not-shit parent Vlad (kinda)

- the Waynes have a strength kink

So when Danny is 18 and have safely moved out, has financial security and can go no contact with his parents he decides to tell him that he’s Phantom.

It doesn’t go well.

By the time Jazz Sam and Tucker find him he is deaged to around 6. The fentonworks lab explodes.

Dani, who is 16 and was on her way to visit, came just in time to sift through the rubble and find Danny, who has only had enough memory to recognize her as his sister. She also finds three dead bodies. Jack and Maddie survived.

Scared and mourning, she takes Danny and runs to Vlad, who realizes how terrible and obsessed Jack and Maddie were and gives Dani lots of money to hide somewhere where the Jack and Maddie wouldn’t dare to look- at least not for a little while.

Gotham.

So she takes Danny and changes their names.

Elliot ‘Elle’ Jasmine Nightingale and Daniel James Nightingale, brothers and sister duo.

Dani- now Elle- still holds a grudge on Vlad, coupled with the Fenton stubbornness, she insists that she can pay rent/bills/groceries/etc. she gets an apartment in crime alley.

Because Elle doesn’t want to leave a paper trail, she does a less-than-legal job.

She joins a fight rink under the name of Phantasm.

And she’s great at it.

Shes spend the money on education for Danny, ignoring her education for the moment until Danny is old enough to join school.

Damian and Bruce were having major arguments, mostly about his violence and Damian quits being Robin and becomes Nocturne. (Bc I love that name)

He undercover a fight rink and thinks if he busts the rink Bruce will trust him enough.

He does recon and quickly realizes that one of the fighters was incredible, winning fight after fight without causing major injures to her opponents. Her name was Phantasm.

He decides that in order to find out more about her, he has to join undercover. It was only to take down the fight rink and learn more about the beautiful fighter that could bend him in half and nothing more.

Damian joins under the name of Ghoul and swipes some DNA from Elle, learns her (fake) name her (fake) backstory (family died in an heated lab explosion) but doesn’t understand why a chunk of her DNA was unreadable (ghost part of her DNA)

After a bit of digging, realized she didn’t attend school and the next morning Elle waked up to a letter starting that her full-ride scholarship to Gotham Academy has be approved (GA offers a afterschool care for students with younger siblings)

Elle never applied and is confused but accepts after Vlad, Ember, and Kitty convinced her.

She coincidentally is put in the most of the same classes as Damian, who she eventually crushes on befriends because he’s hot she’s suspicious of his faint and funky ecto signature.

So shenanigans include (not in this order and are optional)

- GALA where Vald announces her as Vlad Co heiress and the are invited to the gala and get a bit sus of Elle bc Vlad is sus

- JASON AS ELLE’S NEIGHBOR is actively trying to set up/prevent Damian and Elle getting together (either one works, as long as the plans fail comically)

- PRINCESS ELLE OF YHE INFINITE RELAMS + SUMMONING

- TALIA ATTEMPTING TO KIDNAP DANNY because he looked like Bruce/she wants another son and Elle absolutely beating her 7 different ways to Sunday and Talia telling Damian that she approves of her

- ELLE DESTABILIZING/GETTING REALLY SICK and Danny calls Damian in a panic because he knows Elle trusts him even if she won’t admit it

- ELLE GETS SAVED BY NOCTURNE and Elle instantly clocks him as Damian bc of his ecto signature and rips him a new one because look how vigilantism turned out for Danny

- THE BATFAM THINKING DANNY IS THE CLONE OF ELLE and investigating Cadmus, who could have ties to the GIW somehow

- ELLE BECOMING A SORT OF SERIAL KILLER to protect Danny (check the comments @emerald-fox-93 linked it :)))

- DASH BECOMING A GCPD COP AND HAVING TO ARREST ELLE because she killed someone who tried to kidnap Danny. Damian picks her up from the station after she calls him.

- PAULINA BECAME A LAYWER FOR WE bc I saw a post like that and it was fire. She eventually fights for the removal of the AEA (anti ecto acts)

- THE OTHER BATS GENUINELY BECOMING CONCERNED and began to think that Elle is mind-controlling Damian because he keeps brushing them off to hang out with her

- DAN JOINING THE JLA and calling up Elle when he needs her help and Damian being there and being like ‘wtf??’

Jack and Maddie eventually find Danny and Elle and Elle vanishes. Danny- who Elle hid when the Fentons stormed the apartment- calls Damian sobbing and pleading for him to find Elle because the bad people are going to hurt her.

Damian, knowing little to nothing about her situation, basically goes ballistic trying to find her. The family, titans, and the League gets involved because one 15 year old doesn’t realize he has a massive crush on his classmate. He calls up that every favors he is owed (and some that is not) so now basically almost the entire LOA is after a 15 year old girl who was kidnapped by the two mad scientists who are committing around 16 wars crimes.

They find her after the ghosts she’s Still in contact with realize she hasn’t texted in a while and they’ll help Damian on his manhunt

And because Elle is the high princess, the entire ghost zone is ready to help Damian get their princess/queen/regent back

Jack and Maddie never stood a chance.

Any more ideas?? Please tag me and comment 🙏 :))

Edit: I’m updating the post as I think of new ideas, so it’s changing pretty often, you’re not crazy, I just have no writing ability and too many ideas ����

[gilverrwrites]

Some unprompted headcanons for Babs, Jason, and Tim just because I felt like it.

You know most computers now let you have multiple personalisation settings. Barbara has a different pre-set for each member of the family, and she changes them each day depending on who she’s Oracle-ing for. Very generic grey and black theme for Batman. Blue for Nightwing with a picture of him as her background. Red Robin and Red Hood are both, well, red, but her keyboard lights up yellow for Red Robin. All yellow for Signal, lots of purple for Spoiler. Black and yellow for Batgirl. Robin doesn’t have his own yet, since he doesn’t work alone much, however, she does have a bunch of his drawings pinned on the walls.

Jason is a book worm, yes, BUT he does not treat books well .With the exception special editions or books that are particularly meaningful to him, he carries pocket paperbacks around with him and they get battered; torn covers, singed edges, dented corners. That’s on top of his dog earring the pages and annotating them in whatever pen he can find. If he reads an extract or a poem that reminds him of somebody he will straight up rip it out and keep it in his pocket for days, weeks, months until he remembers to give it to the person.

Tim collects bottle caps. No wait, that’s not quite true, people collect soda caps for him. It started when he was a kid and Zesti Cola released a special edition glass bottle for on of their big anniversaries. He just thought it was cool, so he kept it. Years later while he’s out photographing Robin he steps on a funky looking Soder Cola cap and decides to keep it. When he moves into the mansion Bruce finds those two old and beaten-up caps when he’s helping Tim unpack and latches onto it as a bonding thing, starts seeking out glass bottles whenever he’s somewhere new and tells Alfred to do the same. When Steph finds a trinket tray full of bottle caps in Tim’s room she assumes he's a collector and starts doing the same until one day it’s just an unspoken things that everyone in the family does. When you find a bottle cap you give it to Tim. Tim has never questioned it, but he is running out of space.

[journals-of-the-guardian-project]

LORE POST #1

Redesign of my Chat Noir redesign to go together with my rewrite which I will talk a lot about under the cut. I'm pretty set on this design too and will link it at the beginning of the fic when I get ten chapters completed and ready to post :3

What is different from canon, why I am changing some things, etc. Feel free to just read my thoughts around the design if you want to read my fic without any guidelines of what I'm planning so far for him

BUT I won't spoil anything major dw

The design:

I've changed chat noir's design so it would blend in more at night. The preferred the sleek black tones over the glow in the dark green I gave him before. I take a whole lot of inspiration from the PV of miraculous ladybug in these designs so of course his hair is still floofy.

When initially designing Chat noir, the tips of his hair are darker since I really liked that trait some other redesigns gave him so I included it without making his whole head of hair black.

I got the idea to base his design off of rust and RAN with it! He still has some greens in his design but they've shifted closer to yellow green and gold for the color scheme!

I've liked the idea about the clothes in the hero designs looking more cloth like too so I've incorporated that into the design with pockets and a zipper cause I can. Since Adrien has been thinking about being a superhero for a while, his design is more thought out were it could be.

EDIT: Forgot to mention!! Ladybelle has a lil more black in her design and now chat has a little more red! :3 matching

I saw some concept art of Chat Noir with a hat at one point and I loved it so much I wanted to keep it in to a certain extent, SO Marichat moment all the way. I decided to add the bells back into his design (I missed them) and took inspiration from @/callimara's Chat Noir design.

Chat noir will still be very cat like in this and I thought it'd be funky if his feat were like a cat's

Overall it isn't much of a design change for some aspects but I really like how it turned out!

K story stuff now:

I want to get ten chapters done before I post chapters again on the first fic since I don't think I did the best job introducing what I've changed. This isn't talking about adrien agreste's life this is more his role as Chat Noir. I'll get to adrien when I get his redesign sheet finished

(any part of this section might be edited in the future but this is basically part of my ideas)

Honestly a whole lot of the fic(s) is(are)

Fault of canon? -> Solution

I've been developing for two years now and I just gotta write it out... Entirely hinging on my execution sigh

Chat noir's powers are now on a more equal footing with Ladybug's (Ladybelle now) and I'll get more indepth when I post Ladybug's redesign and stuff but basically

The miracle box is a mix mash of several miraculous's from other boxes due to an event Guardian Marianne caused. Supposedly, she unleashed the Rabbit kwami of time on the guardians in an act of defiance. Resulting in rips in time eating away the members present for such an event, burning to death in fire. Marianne managed to run away with the miraculous's she could obtain and do her best to live her life knowing what she's done.

The Ladybug and Cat miraculous are a duo pair. Strongest when used in a partnership. Many are tempted to use both at the same time for what the powers merge to become but this isn't the strongest path.

Tikki and Plagg are soulmates you could say. They aren't really romantic but they are bonded for life. Never one without the other.

They are the only miraculous pairing in the new mixmash of the guardian box. Eventually Marianne gives the responsibility to Master Fu, her lover, before the rabbit comes after her as well.

I'll talk more about the changes I've made to Tikki's character in Ladybelle's post but as a part of the Miraculous cure, something all pairing miraculous's have to purify evils and darkness, it requires both parties to be present. Usually some form of touch or communication initiates the Miraculous cure

"Pound it!"

Chat noir can use his power alone to defeat evils but it's like cauterizing a wound. He doesn't figure this out for a bit.

I'll talk more about the miraculous cure in Ladybelle's post

This is still a part of the story I'm working on but:

the miraculous of destruction gets more powerful the longer the user wields it. With techniques and familiarity, Chat noir will be able to make black pockets of nothing just from a touch. Yes I'm including this from the concept art. Though he'll only get this later down the road

Chat noir is still a form of escapism to Adrien and part of his character arc is realizing he can't rely on it like that. A large part of adrien's character I'll talk about in adrien's post ties into Chat Noir too

I'm still figuring out some plot points for him so this is where I'll end this off. But I will say I'm planning on Chat Noir getting more time with the kwamis and more of a role in the Guardian arc and guardian stuff in general

[fizzie-frog]

K but can anyone actually explain Fizzarolli's funky fingers? They switch from black to white/vice versa, sometimes in the same scene. Like does anyone know this??

Ozzie's:

Black all throughout.

Oops!:

Black in the morning/in pajamas after waking up.

White when out in the Greed ring (same episode).

Black again on the new hand installed by Ozzie.

Mammon's magnificent musical:

Black all throughout, before his "2 minutes notice" performance.

White in "2 minutes notice"?? Through to the end of the episode.

He seemed to change them in the middle of performing...

... by ripping out his sleeves??? How do the sleeves connect to the fingers? How-- what?

Please someone make sense of this. It's obviously not an error since it happens for long periods at a time. Also it seems pretty intentional the way the fingers change with the sleeve rips. It can't be two separate sets of prosthetics since it changed in the middle of performance... It isn't gloves, cause he has those robotic LEDs. And also, again, he's ripping the black out of them along with the sleeves???

I know it's such a minor thing, but that really confuses me. Riddle me that, Viv.

[xanasaurusrex]

Ohh I see! I’ve just read the Athena one and it’s awesome! Uhmmm could u do the ephestus one next? Is he a main one? Idk tbh. Cause i don’t wanna like request Eros who’s minor cause yk ur order and sum but ephestus would be fun! (Sorry if the name’s wrong… I ain’t English native an dim not sure about the spelling, sorry). Have a lovely day and again: love the Athena cabin!❤️‍🔥

⇢ ˗ˏˋ hephaestus cabin headcanons ࿐ྂ

hi!! i think you meant hephaestus, and of course i can do that! if you want to request eros or any other minor god, go for it! and thank you so much for the love on the athena cabin hcs, they were so much fun! have a great day, and thank you for the request love! <333

so hephaestus kids are cool but kinda chaotic

their minds run a mile a minute

they always have new ideas for things to make on their mind, and things to invent

they just always have a lot of ideas

hephaestus kids do very good in prank wars, because they're very good at rigging up things like buckets of water falling on you when you open a door

another one of their favorite pranks is putting a mento in the cap of a coke and then attaching a string, so that when you open it, the mento falls into the coke and does the foamy thing

so moral of the story, if you can, avoid getting into a prank war with a hephaestus kid

hephaestus kids also come up with the best nicknames for people

a hephaestus kid will spend some time with you, gauge your personality and the things you do, and then they give you a nickname

it's rarely ever a malicious one (or you're a mean person, then you get a bad nickname), it's usually one that fits you that you actually really like

so in my athena cabin hcs i said that they expanded the arts and crafts area, and yes, athena kids are the ones who frequent this area the most, but you'd better believe hephaestus kids are hanging around there as well

they love making things with their hands, and even though they specialize when it comes to mechanical things and working with metal, every one in a while they want to make a pipe cleaner butterfly

beckendorf was really good at origami butterflies

so after they died, everyone made an origami butterfly, and they put a framed picture of him up on the wall, and then surrounded it with origami butterflies (rip)

anyways, moving on

the hephaestus cabin is always just about a bajillion degrees

IT IS ALWAYS SO HOT IN THERE

and even though not all hephaestus kids have the fire power that leo does, they are all less susceptible to heat

i mean, they have to be around heat a lot when they're forging weapons, so naturally, it doesn't affect them as much as it affects others

literally, if you have a friend and the two of you want to hangout, you will literally never be hanging out in the hephaestus cabin, because you will literally melt

(not literally, but you'll just be sweating like a pig the whole time)

hephaestus kids also always make the best marshmallows at the campfire

i mean, come on

they forge amazing weapons, and work with fire on practically a daily basis, of course they roast the perfect marshmallow

if you have a very specific amount of roasted-ness in mind, just tell a hephaestus kid, and there you go, your perfect mallow

the hephaestus cabin also has quite a few retro items, such as cd players and record players

but they're not... exactly like they should be

hephaestus kids like to take these older items and make them more usable and modern

so there are some funky looking record players in the hephaestus cabin

they just like experimenting on things like that

the hephaestus kids also set up a sort of PA system for the camp

this was sanctioned by chiron, but they don't really listen to what he says about it

they play a lot of music, and yes, they do announce things, but there's often some comedy thrown in there

hephaestus kids are actually really funny

like they could honestly be full on comedians

they just have a sort of dry sense of humor, and really good timing, which is like half of being funny

hephaestus kids are also all really close

like when you're a hephaestus kid, your best friends are your siblings that you live with in your cabin

there are always a few typical older siblings that are the oldest in the cabin, usually the head camper of that cabin and a few others that you always know you can go to when you need it

hephaestus kids are also have the least drama

i mean, camp half-blood is filled with teenagers going through puberty, having first crushes and first relationships, that kinda stuff

of course there's gonna be drama

the hephaestus kids just somehow have less

this is partially because they always find themselves focused on things other than who kissed who and who cheated on who and why they did what

they have armor and weapons to make, dude, they can't be focused on that

that's not to say that there isn't drama with hephaestus kids, it's just a lot less common

and whenever you hear something regarding a hephaestus kid in drama, you kinda are taken aback and are like... wait what?

most hephaestus kids' love language is gift giving, and that mostly consists of things made by said hephaestus kid

like, oh you mentioned you wanted to start wearing rings more?

for your birthday, you find a package of like fifty, all different and interesting and unique, with perfect craftsmanship with the name of a hephaestus kid on it

sometimes they collaborate with the hecate kids to put crystals in the jewelry they make (because of course they make jewelry

hephaestus kids are almost never seen not wearing at least one piece of jewelry, made by themselves or their siblings

one head camper of hephaestus cabin like a decade ago taught themselves how to give piercings, and now every head hephaestus camper knows how to give piercings

obviously no hephaestus kid is forced to get a piercing, but most of them are

most of them have their ears pierced at the very least, but it's not uncommon to see a few people with snake bites floating around

chiron, the most innocent ever, has no idea where people are getting pierced, and has asked around, but nobody wants to rat out hephaestus cabin, because it's really convenient

idk i kinda imagine hephaestus kids as a little bit alt

that's all i have for hephaestus cabin headcanons! this was honestly a little bit difficult for me, and honestly i cannot tell you why. i do think these are all pretty good headcanons though, and just because it was kinda hard doesn't mean i didn't love it! (that's what she said) these were really fun, and i can't wait to get to work on the other cabin hcs i have sitting in my requests! thanks so much for reading, i love you all!! <3333

[venus-haze]

Rip This Place Apart (Driller Killer x Reader)

Summary: He’s gonna rock your world, baby!

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request. I wrote this while I was dealing with a bout of insomnia, ironically. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Descriptions of blood and gore. Sexually explicit content. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

A man kept appearing in your dreams, and he wouldn’t go away. Leather-clad and oozing obnoxious amounts of sex appeal, he was the opposite of a problem, until your dreams started feeling a little too real. Maybe it was your subconscious’ way of telling you to get laid, but every time you had some kind of interest in a man, he clouded your mind until you either made a fool of yourself or retreated.

That night was going to be different, though. You and your friend Marcie had spotted a flyer for a funky looking local band called Shriek and the Spyders, a group of self-professed psychobilly hooligans who were known for their wild shows and over-the-top onstage antics. A bartender who’d overheard you and Marcie discussing the show the day before advised, “Wear something you won’t mind getting stained.” Your interest piqued, and you figured a skimpy black top and similarly black skirt would do.

The Crypt was a hole-in-the-wall joint that certainly lived up to its name. You could hardly see inside, save for a few red overhead lights, because of course they were red. The light fog that swathed the room was either from an effects machine or so many people chain smoking. When you approached the bar, you scanned the cocktail menu, all named after and inspired by classic monsters. You ordered a Frankenstein-themed drink, wondering if it were possible for a place to be too campy.

“C’mon, let’s try to get closer to the stage before they go on,” Marcie said once you both got your drinks.

About fifteen minutes later, the band strutted onstage, an abundance of leather and pompadours. Almost like—no, you weren’t supposed to be thinking about him. Not bothering with introductions, Shriek and the Spyders went right into an upbeat song that made the raucous crowd go wild. They didn’t let up, sweat dripping down Shriek’s face as he ran back and forth across the stage, microphone in hand.

In the middle of their third song, a spray of fake blood rained over the crowd, leading to cheers and screams nearly drowning out the music. Some of the effects looked a little too realistic for your comfort. The bass player’s “eye” popped out at one point, and the lead guitarist’s face seemed to literally melt during a solo a few songs later. 

You and Marcie had been dancing along to the whole set, your drinks long since discarded, half spilled on each other as other concert-goers bumped into you. It was the most fun you’d had in a long time, but you couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding that settled in your gut no matter how much you tried to focus on the show.

In the middle of another song, Shriek broke into a howl as a giant drill emerged through his chest, spraying the crowd with blood again. Except, this time you weren’t so sure it was fake. No one else seemed to care. The carnage only electrified the people around you as they roared and cheered when Shriek collapsed near the microphone stand, his guts hanging off the stage. The floor beneath you shook at the crowd’s riotous stomping and jumping at the scene they’d just witnessed. When you looked up at the stage, you were horrified to see him. Gore hung from the end of his drill-tipped guitar, splattering the crowd as he revved it, keeping eye contact with you and grinning slyly at your disbelief. 

He leaned into the mic, the corners of his lips curling into a cat-like grin as he announced with a swoon-worthy croon, “This is dedicated to the one I love.”

Then he pointed right at you.

The energy in the room shifted to a tangible malignancy, or maybe it was your own panic as you tried to push and shove your way out of the crowd. Instead, you only found yourself being forced closer to the stage, his romance-laced innuendos and skillful guitar strumming overwhelmed your senses and made your skin crawl. It felt like the whole crowd was in on his scheme to get you.

With each song you were shoved closer, and closer, until for the first time since he manifested in your dreams, you were able to reach out and touch him.

Was he even real?

You were dizzy by the time the show ended, hardly able to protest when you were manhandled and told something about wanting to be seen backstage.

“I want details!” Marcie shouted, oblivious to your plight as the rent-a-cop shuffled you away from her. 

Backstage was a stretch. More like a narrow hallway with a utility closet and a small, graffiti-covered room that had been requisitioned by the bands. The door to the makeshift dressing room slammed behind you when you stumbled inside. He was waiting there for you, sitting on a grungy looking red velvet couch, his leather-clad legs spread wide open. His jacket was discarded in the corner of the room, revealing the sheen of sweat and blood that coated his body.

Your eyes drifted to his drill, large and intimidating, with a red tip that looked angry against its large shaft. You could’ve sworn you saw it twitch a bit, and recoiled at the thought of it penetrating you. 

With a click of his tongue, he drew your attention back to him. Raising his hand, he beckoned you over to him with a curl of his index and middle fingers. You felt a jolt rush through your core at the motion. Almost involuntarily, you approached until the points of your kitten heels touched the tips of his steel-toed boots.

“How’d you like the show, baby?” he asked.

“It was…a lot.”

“It was all for you.”

“Yeah…” you trailed off, blatantly ogling the bulge straining against his tight pants.

He grinned, thrusting up toward your face. “Could use a little help, sugar,” he crooned, eyes dangerous as he palmed his crotch. “Don’t be cruel to a heart that’s true.”

You let out a shaky breath in response, and proceeded to sit on his lap. He threw his head back, groaning at the sensation of your weight on him. Tangling your fingers in his slicked black hair, you pressed yourself closer to him, kissing his neck as you rolled your hips against his. You nipped at his throat when you felt his cock twitch against your pussy.

“Goddamn, baby,” he moaned. “Gimme more of that.”

Rolling your hips again, you let out a soft whimper at the friction from his pants on your clit. It was as if a switch flipped inside you, desperation flooding your senses as you chased your pleasure, grinding against him, almost embarrassed at the sounds your wet pussy was making as it rubbed against his hard cock. 

Your breathing shallowed, muscles ached as you rutted against him, feeling yourself getting closer to orgasm. For a moment, it felt like he was only there for you to use, to get off with like some living, leather-wrapped sex toy. Maybe he was. You weren’t thinking clearly enough to question it.

“Wanna go all the way with you, baby,” he forced out. “Wanna make you mine.”

You moaned at that. “Yours.”

You swiftly shifted so you could pull off your panties, tossing them aside on the couch. He undid his pants, his leaking cock springing free from its leather confines. Your pussy involuntarily clenched at the size of him, and your eyes frantically met his smug face. 

He reached between you, his fingers stroking your sensitive pussy. “Cat got your tongue?”

You kissed him again, more teeth and tongue than before as you lifted your hips, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock and whimpering into his mouth at how it stretched you mercilessly. You caught his bottom lip in your teeth, biting down a little too hard and drawing blood, but he took it in stride, licking it from his lips.

He sung your praises, his hands firmly on your hips as he guided you, your pussy taking all of him. His five o’clock shadow scratched at your sensitive skin as he pressed kisses to your neck and shoulders. 

“Fuck!” you cried out as you bounced on his dick, your cervix pounded by his length. Your vision blurred with tears, thighs burning as you kept riding him. So close. “I—I’m gonna—“

“That’s it, sugar. Come for me.”

Your orgasm rolled through you, rocking your hips against his as you held onto his shoulders to steady yourself. Your pussy pulsed around his cock, and you could feel his hot cum fill you as your body milked his seed from him. He was vocal when he came, your name practically echoing throughout the room in a perverse melody.

Riding out your orgasm, you shuddered against him, feeling his soft, spent cock still buried inside you. 

“That was…are you real?” you asked breathlessly.

“In dreams you’re mine, all the time,” he answered cryptically, kissing you with a disarming tenderness.

[infamous-if]

I’m curious what the RO’s homes/bedrooms look like because I think it can tell a whole lot about someone 🤔

I'M GLAD YOU ASKED. I was actually ruminating over what Sev's room/apartment, in particular, would look like the other day.

Seven's room is very dark to me. Black walls, a lot of band posters plastered everywhere. It's a mess but an organized mess. Very much what a music enthusiast's room would look like in a 2000s teen movie lol. They've never grown out of the 'fanboy/fangirl' phase so they'd just have posters all over, they have a dresser of vintage records on one side and a mirror full of photo booth pictures and photos of their life tacked to it. Their bed is never made, mostly because Seven is always in bed when they're home. Seven has clothes strewn just about everywhere but they claim to know where everything is. A lot of ripped-out pages of scrapped out song lyrics on the floor. My imagination of Seven's songwriting process is a lot of pacing, a lot of humming. They get their best ideas while doing other stuff like cleaning and cooking. Outside of their room, their apartment is also messy with a lot of novels strewn about. Seven is very sentimental so every gift they've ever gotten is on display. Their bathroom is clean but messy; just a lot of hair products and makeup everywhere. Seven's "I just rolled out of bed" look is a stylistic choice lmao

I can imagine Sev being a very annoying neighbor to have since they always have music on and they're always singing. Seven has never actually cleaned their place quickly because of all the times they stop to have a mini concert in their living room. Seven is fun when they're alone lol

Orion's is expectantly clean and very minimalist. His room is barren, a plain black bed with a metal headboard. He always has incense burning and has an air purifier and a lot of tech. Everything is spotless and there's not anything out of place. Orion's place is a lot of dark furniture, a lot of leather, and a lot of gray and white in terms of looks. He has a large glass balcony that he likes to do work on in the mornings. I imagine him to have a large closet with all just suits on one side and just...straight up black clothes on the other. Orion isn't one to wear anything colorful. His neighbors love him and want to connect with him but Orion is not interested lol More than a few times he'd come home and just plops himself on his couch and falls asleep due to how tired he was.

Sebastian's home is large but sparsely decorated. He has a big TV to play his video games on and it's what you'd think is a stereotypical young guy's place: brown couch, some video game memorabilia, and some sports stuff. He has a huge gamer computer setup he built himself. He uses it for games and for coding and general data stuff. Sebastian likes displaying all of his goodies and stuff and he doesn't touch Maya's room, which is much like Seven's in that it's super cluttered with music stuff and posters. Sebastian's house is what a default sims house looks like: nothing stylish, just generic furniture.

Victoria and G's is luxurious that leans more to anything that they like they just toss it in there. Huuuuge with plushy colorful couches and overpriced designer furniture. OH! If anyone has seen Cara Delevigne's AD...that's what their house would look like. Just chaotic everywhere with so many knickknacks and things that it's like an assault on your every single sense. Funky wallpapers, leopard rugs. A lot of that, surprisingly, is G's doing. G was very set on designing their house. They're barely home and live mostly in hotels anyway so it doesn't really matter.

August's is pretty generic; gray walls, purple bed. They live with their family (August was supposed to live with a roommate but I changed it to better fit their route) and Clare tends to be the messy one. I would say August's room is half and half, it's pretty empty but what they do have takes up a lot of space like their drum set and their huge speakers. The house is big (August's parents are pretty well-off as politicians) and very Grecian in appearance. August doesn't have much knickknacks and things like Seven. They're pretty detached to sentimental things like that. It's a very standard room, the centerpiece definitely being their drums. They have a huge computer set up, though, like a gamer set up like Seb's but they don't use it for games lmao

[slippinninque]

🏃🏾‍♀️Nosey🔎

You end up in some business that's not exactly yours...

Jatemme Manning x blackfem reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence and some torture (not to reader) soft!dark!Jatemme, long fic

-----

There were times where the job could get messy.

Vision blurring at the edges and pain shooting down your side, you continued through the alleys. The siren’s call and rushing cars filled the air, you could hear the gunshots as your tails met each other.

Lungs burning and legs screaming, you hoped the worst for both of them.

You went next to the double dumpster of a vegan spot and slid into sitting down. Your head swam with the growing pain, you knew you had to keep moving but you couldn’t keep bleeding.

‘Love's is gonna kill me.’ You couldn't help the little laugh that slipped, knowing the man was going to go nuclear.

Right now, all you could was try to fix your shoulder.

You ripped off your bloody shirt and tore a strip around the slash in your side. The other, you wrapped as best as possible around the left shoulder where there could be a bullet still lodged in there.

Groaning and re-shouldering the pack, you zipped up your hoodie all the way and tossed up the hood. After a moment to guess where you were beyond Funky Fresh Vegan Bistro, you pushed towards the mouth of the ally.

In the backpack were a handful of USB drives that held some pretty compelling information about a few families in the underground and high-crust.

All of it set to be given to the police in the the work of a mole. Multiple moles, a syndicate across turfs. Proof and promises for smaller sentences, complacent public figures, receipts for cleaned money, audio files—oh, they had it all.

Now you had it. Though not much time came with it now that half the city was looking for you. Still, it was well worth the nasty fall you took in getting the hell out of dodge.

You just had to get to your turf. A neutral space, either one of the bars or pawnshops owned by your cousins maybe?

A bullet ricocheted from the metal post of the fence, startling you and causing you to bolt.

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

Four men naked and taped to their chairs. Every sound uttered that wasn't information cost a tooth. With that sort of currency, Jatemme had to get creative after a while.

They were pleading and leaking from all over but Jatemme wouldn’t let any of them die until one of them finally told him what he needed to hear.

Asthma knew this special mood was from a very specific source. Namely one the exact size of a foxy little smooth talker that's been missing for nearly 24 hours.

Jatemme didn’t look at Asthma as he rounded to this table of tools, picking up a potato peeler as he spoke.

“Did you find her?”

“She ran into one of our laundromats. Eddy and Chris was there to meet her after a tip about her running from the Opps spread through Southwest. They said they're taking her to see Doc.”

Jatemme stood slowly and fixed a dark gaze onto his captives,

“Was she hurt?”

“Banged up good but heard Doc say she had worse.” Asthma didn’t come closer, didn’t move away from the door. Whoever those men were--they probably didn't have long left.

“She had something with her you might want to see, though. Eddy came through to drop it off."

When Jatemme looked over at him, Asthma wordlessly held up a well-worn Crown Royal bag.

….

You felt like you were ran over by a pack of trucks. Or suplexed by a Silverback gorilla—but you were also satisfied.

You stole enough leverage to keep the skies clear for years.

“I have to say, you’ve been doing pretty good. There was a time I’d see you every week.” Doc returned with fresh bandages. You began sitting up and he hurried to get you to lay back down.

“With the way you used to chew my ass out, I've been taking my chances with the lil' sewing kit at home.”

“Explains all these wobbly-ass scars then.”

You snorted, pain jolting with your amusement, “Yo, not too much on me! I learned from watching you, old man!”

It was Doc’s turn to laugh as he peeled away the stained bandage on on side. The puncture was pretty deep and the healing was going to be a bitch, but you were lucky enough it didn't reach anything vital.

“I won’t recommend falling onto a fence head, it’s not as quirky as the TV makes it seem.”

"Girl, what the hell are you watchin'?"

You rambled on and tried to ignore the way the pain killers churned in your empty stomach as you wated for them to kick in. While you knew Doc was being as careful as he could, you still winced.

It's actually been a while since the last time you had stitches.

“Little more and then you can sleep it off, champ.” Doc grunted as he emptied a syringe into you, “Rusty metals are a bitch after all."

“And how…”

Your eyes closed. Took deep breaths and soon enough, the room stopped spinning and Doc was putting a fresh bandage onto the worst of it. He's been stitching you up since you got into the streets, you've slept on his cot more nights than you can count.

Wasn't long before the absence of adrenaline invited the presence of reality.

Jamal finding out you went snooping without permission--that you could sort of handle. Jamal would be more than appeased by the blackmail and leverage you dug up.

If Jatemme saw how badly you fucked yourself up over a ‘side quest’, then that...would be worse.

“Say, Doc, when can I—uh--get on out of here?”

Doc looked at you as if you spoke to him in Klingon, “Leave? Girl, give the good shit time to kick in, at least! 'Sides, you’re going to be here at least until morning. That ankle of yours alone—woah, wait!”

You were already dizzy from the sudden movement of you sitting up, but you had to get home. You didn't want Jatemme to see you as you were, it was too bad--too soon.

If you could make it home, you could buy some more time for the worst of it to go away. You stood from the bed with a yelp, unsteady but trying to move away Doc’s worried hands.

“Suddenly, Doc, I feel a while ‘lot better. So much, so much better. Think I’m gonna finish healing up at home, y’know?”

“Is this about Manning? Sorry kid, but the cat’s out the bag—he knows.”

"Aw shit," You groaned, arms going around your stomach as it thundered. The pain rocketed down your side, Doc hissed something as he reached out to steady you.

“I-I still wanna go home. I'll be more comfortable there..."

"C'mon now, kid--

"Shouldn't you be invested in the quality of my healing? I'd be waaay more comfortable there, old man..."

“Hear me out, let me get you as patched up as a can to last—yeah?”

"I'm fine...”

“I think you should listen to doctor’s orders.”

You went still. Doc made a relived noise prodded you towards the cot, you went stiffly. He helped to lay you and you gave a great, big sigh as you finally faced the figure blocking the doorway.

“Heeey there, Love...”

Jatemme came and took Doc’s seat when he stood at the sight of him in the doorway. Jatemme unpinned his stare from you and looked to the older man.

“Tell me what we’re looking at, Doc.”

You swallowed as the list was rattled off in alphabetical order. Bruising, gunshot wound to the left shoulder, multiple lacerations, and a rolled ankle.

Jatemme stared at him, eyes endless and still. You picked at the loose thread of the cot's scratchy blanket when Jatemme finally dismissed Doc to turn his eyes on you.

The silence was thick enough for you to eventually wince beneath it. Jatemme sighed, deep and heavy as he stood. You looked up at him in time for him to catch your chin as he came to sit closer to you on the cot.

Jatemme pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, then another. You felt like your could implode, or maybe pass out.

He pulled back enough for your noses to touch, “I heard you almost got killed..."

Your giggle was a bit intense, nervous and excited as always when he was near. Jatemme’s smile was small as he pointed his finger directly in the center of your forehead.

“Do you know what I'd do? If I missed you?"

Not for the first time--you wondered just how far Jatemme would be willing to go.

“Hm...probably want to give me one of these?" You darted forward a stole a kiss, “Or maybe one of these...?”

You tried to get another kiss but Jatemme moved back at the last moment, catching your head between his palms. All traces of humor gone in his face as your ears struggled to pick up is next words.

"Tell me what happened. Now."

So you did. You didn't work for Jatemme, you didn't work for anyone, but you were meddling in his shit. The least you could do is tell the truth.

Jatemme had relaxed his hold on you by the end of the story. His hands went from your head to one resting on your thigh and the other in his pocket.

“I told you to leave it be. I was gonna press Gavin to see who the connect was.”

“Wasn't no 'leave it be', I'm telling you. Gavin was gonna go tonight, as soon as he left from here with his tail.”

You put your hand over his, thumbing over all of his knuckles.

“If I would have left it there? I swear we would have been booked by noon tomorrow, Love. "

Jatemme stared. While he took in whatever he needed, you took in the pleasure of his handsomeness and the slow numbness that was taking over from whatever the hell Doc gave you.

“Don’t be a danger to yourself.” Jatemme said quietly after a while, “I will put you up somewhere if something like this happens again."

"All I hear is that you liiike me, you wanna kiiisss me..."

"You playin' too much. Don't think I won't, brat.”

You didn’t doubt it. Jatemme could make a lot of things happen, you've seen it firsthand. The only problem is that it didnt' scare you. It caused quite the opposite effect.

If Jatemme wanted to hoard you all to himself--it was in the public best interest to let him do as he wanted, right?

"I know, Love, I know."

Jatemme leaned in slow and you were eager to meet him. He kissed slow and soft, pinching your cheek before pulling away. Jatemme stood to ease you back into the pillows, grabbing the throw blanket that Doc kept.

“Chill here for now. I’m going to make a call and then we're going to head out.”

You nodded and suddenly felt so tired. The worst of it was over now, even if Jatemme was plotting on a lesson when you were in better shape. It was a good save, no one could take that from you.

With that thought, you dropped off into a mildly-comfortable doze as you waited for the pain meds to take over.

Jatemme lingered until you fell asleep. The bunching in your brow smoothed out and your breaths were deeper, not as if you sucked on pain every inhale.

Your hair was a mess of braids and he saw a the bandage above your brow was already stained red. You slept like you didn't fall a few stories onto a iron fence and weren't the source of Jatemme's headache.

He heard what Doc said about your ankle and thought about the talk he still had to have with Jamal. It was too late in the evening to even consider the bodies still in his workshop.

‘Gave us plenty of work, didn't you?' He thought, looking at the blood beneath your nails. Pulling out his phone and then your bag of snatched evidence, he texted his brother.

Then sent a follow up asking for him to bring a bottle.

-------

✨ending notes✨: this one was rattling around my brain for the longest and have definitely been taking up space in my drafts! I think this is a bit different for me 🤔 I'm looking to make a more chaotic reader and I think she may do well with Jatemme! 🤣Thank you so much for reading! Tell me what you think! 💜✨💕

💕taglist💞: @megamindsecretlair @blowmymbackout @thadelightfulone @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sageispunk

@kindofaintrovert @satoruya @harmshake @miyuhpapayuh @ms-angiealsina

@cocochannelmoi @hunnishive @last-lost-one @yasminsqueendom @flydotty

@henneseyhoe

[glowingbadger]

Any chance of tied up and/or handcuff, afab reader with Seteth or Jeritza?

So this request came in while my requests are closed (including the funky special requests I've done lately), but, y'know... I had some thoughts anyway. Have I already written for both Seteth and Jeritza recently? Yes. Will that ever, ever stop me from writing more about them especially Seteth? Absolutely not.

Seteth, Jeritza x GN! Reader

Bondage/handcuff headcanons

NSFW 18+

Jeritza

Jeritza is very, very careful about restraining you. At first, he won't even consider it- he's too nervous for your safety, and he's well aware exactly what fate would befall you if he were to lapse into the Death Knight while he has you restrained in his bed. For some time, the very thought haunts his nightmares, until you both gradually deepen your trust and intimacy with one another. Over time, as he comes to realize and truly hold in his heart the absolute trust you have in him, it frees him to pursue a wider range of pleasures with you.

Eventually, tying you up becomes a way for you two to explore that trust you have in one another in a sensual and deeply intimate way. Seeing you helpless beneath him, knowing he could do anything to you and yet you have faith that he'll only give you pleasure and adoration, it sets Jeritza's heart racing. His touch is unusually reverent when you submit yourself to him like this, his hands worshiping you with the kind of devotion he'll only offer to you and you alone.

With your wrists bound above your head- perhaps latched around a bed post, or perhaps simply pinned down with one of his strong hands at your wrists- he'll spend a good long while simply touching you. With any other man, it may seem that this is meant to tease you; he'll run his hands along your body, watching the way your flesh yields beneath his fingertips, the way you shiver when he caresses somewhere sensitive, the way your eyes shine as you gaze back up at him with flushed cheeks and parted lips, and all the while his expression appears stoic. It's only because you know him so well that you notice the way his jaw tightens and eyes narrow as he watches you, his chest subtly rising and falling with deep, careful breaths as he fights to contain his lust.

Jeritza simply adores getting to watch you feel good at his hand. He's taken for granted for some time that he is an instrument of war, a being of death. Being able to bring pleasure to the one he holds most dear is a thrill he'd never believed he would experience- so watching you mew and whimper and plead for him with your body bound and vulnerable makes his cock throb with need until he has to feel himself buried in you.

As far as tying or handcuffing him, he's actually far more amenable. While it seems a little arbitrary- you both know he could easily break through any restraints you'd put him in if he truly wanted to -it is something of a comfort for him to feel himself held in place for you to have your way. It feels as though a burden has been taken from him, that he's far less likely to hurt you, even if that's only marginally true.

While he's not always good at verbally expressing his pleasure while tied up, it's obvious how sensitive he is to your every touch and kiss like this. His muscles tense as you press your body to him, his abdomen flexes as you drag your nails down his skin, and every kiss along his neck and down his chest causes him to strain for just a moment not to break out of his restraints and claim you.

That said... if you enjoy the idea of tormenting him until he breaks, that is certainly an option. While again this will take time and trust, he's strong enough to rip out of basically any kind of binding you'd put him in, so if your goal is to tease and provoke him until he frees himself and throws you down onto the bed beneath him, you'll be in for a long and pleasurable night as he expresses with his body the feelings for you that he's unable to verbalize.

Seteth

While the sexual side of a relationship takes a while for Seteth to ease into at its base (it's been a while for him, and he's so concerned with your comfort, despite his pent-up longing for you), it absolutely won't take long to realize that he adores both dominating you and being dominated in turn. The man thrives on power dynamics, so if you express interest in being cuffed or tied up, you'll immediately see the heat in his eyes as the idea takes hold in his imagination. Despite his usual stern demeanor, it's obvious how the thought of tying you up in his bed makes his blood run hot.

As with all things kinky (and all things in general, really), Seteth insists upon a level of due-diligence. He's rigorous in his investigations on which materials are safe to use when binding you, how to do so without hurting you, and how to sooth and care for you afterwards. Frankly, it's likely that part of his interest in exploring this with you was prompted by him happening upon a book on the subject when scouring the library's texts to ensure no inappropriate material be left within view of the students. This particular book was immediately secreted away to his quarters, and he's studied it thoroughly since.

If Seteth is restraining you, he's either punishing you or spoiling you. Perhaps you've been misbehaving recently, getting a bit too flirtatious during work or going to tea with someone else just to rile him up, and he feels the need to discipline you in his bed by binding you and tormenting you at the edge of release until you promise to behave. Conversely, when the mood strikes, Seteth can be absolutely doting- tying your wrists above your head so all you can do is let him spoil you, driving you to cum with your legs trembling and lips gasping his name over and over on his tongue and fingers before he even enters you.

Kink play can get very ritualistic with Seteth, and bondage is no exception. One of his favorite ways to dominate you is to tie you down and make you recite prayers beneath him while he touches you, refusing to let you cum until you finish, and harshly reprimanding you whenever you stutter or hesitate. In particular, there may be a few prayers to Saint Cichol specifically that he insists you ought to know by heart.

All of this said, Seteth is fundamentally a switch, and savors power-play regardless of who is in the dominant role. When on the receiving end, you'll never find a more eager and obedient submissive. Service is his life's calling, in a sense, and he's always thrilled to serve the one he loves. His pulse starts racing the moment you guide him down onto the bed and position his wrists together to cuff him, and he'll be rock-hard and red in the face by the time you've straddled him. He'll gladly submit himself to any treatment you offer him- punish or tease him, overstimulate him, use him, anything you like. Hell, Seteth has become so accustomed to controlling himself and his lusts over the years that he can endure a truly impressive amount of sexual torment, if it's what would most please you.

Either way, by the time he finally feels his cock sheathed deep inside of you, he'll likely want to be free to hold you and feel your arms around him in turn. For as kinky as Seteth can get, he's a romantic deep down (though he may struggle to express it), and he adores you in such a sincere way that, no matter how intense things get in bed, he ultimately wants you both to be able to share pleasure to the fullest.

[princesstarfire1234]

Random ideas for a hypothetical Scavengers (mini) series

So I made a google doc a few nights ago and filled it with random ass ideas for how a cartoony likely-episodic Scavengers series could go... It was around the same time I wanted to get to animating a Scavs-related thing but no promises there or to this ever becoming more than rambles

Anyways... heres an unorganized collection of my silly thoughts:

POST-WAR!! War’s over, Autobot-Decepticon alliance is great and dandy for everyone except of course the folks who got left behind and forgotten by respective High Commands and have had to make their own dealings in space to get thru life and shit; focusing on the daily struggles of your average low of the low genericons/bots, the Scavengers

Optimus and Megatron are definitely married (trust); we go the IDW MTMTE route but instead of Megs off on a quest with Roddy and gang, he’s with Optimus and they both publicly surrender/call truce or whatever on-video and agree to help repair cybertron instead of squabbling, sending a message to all cybertronians taking refuge amongst the stars blah blah blah its time to go home (pilot should open with this i think, set the worldview up straight from the beginning)

It could either be set in the slums of like some populated city or smthn, like maybe Dead End of Kaon or smthn OR… now consider… Set NOT on Cybertron, literally anywhere BUT Cybertron; the Scavs wander space, at least every few episodes or so would be set in a different planet or smthn, having them do their usual shenanigans and (failing) their supply/scavenging runs, as well as the occasional star station too for like a pit stop i guess; there’d be atleast one episode where they go to earth probably

Main characters (scavs duh, but lemme write some shit down here rq):

Krok - the dutiful, ever-patient (one can of engex away from losing it) leader of the Scavengers; he’s the one that usually has the single functioning brain cell

Crankcase - the skillful pilot of the crew’s beloved Decepticon-hijacked Autobot vessel, always in a sour mood, think TFA Ratchet but up the old man crankiness to 500; really good at fixing things (mechanic)

Spinister - a little stupid… all the stupid actually… but he’s got things rattling in there too, don’t worry! The Scavengers’ medic; would probably be Cybertron’s greatest surgeon if it weren’t for everything else

Fulcrum - Defunct?? Rejected?? Something-class Decepticon, a bit of a coward, found in a dumpster by Misfire; he’s a technician too! Score!

Misfire - ideas are about as good as his aim (which is not at all); the really really talkative and social one; rejected Rainmaker/Seeker (bro didnt pass Decepticon Academy, rip)

Additional members that get added to the crew later on!

Grimlock - resident Dinobot and the only Autobot on the crew (for now or smthn idk), thinking of either having them find him during the pilot episode or a bit later on?; i think Krok would definitely have a thing where he’s super wary of him until a big character development episode thing happens like in MTMTE #46

Nickel - hmmm idk yet.. Maybe a former high ranking decepticon officer whose position has been stripped from her the more fucked up and bad the faction ended up becoming because she was very vocal about its problems til the current day? (I just don’t think her being connected to the DJD would work here womp womp)

Flywheels (unsure) - some mech that tagged along with them during one random shenanigans episode

MP3 / or some other new human character (unsure) - they have an episode where they go to Earth and befriend silly human… may or may not keep them, maybe they could be an honorary Scavenger but only appears sometimes or stays on Earth but keeps in touch with the Scavs (look I just think having a human on the crew would be kinda silly and funky for the dynamic)

Meanies to the crew (weekly bad guy):

Novastorm - leader of the Rainmakers; has beef with Misfire

Skullcruncher- Krok hates his guts; he’s the TFA Sentinel to Krok’s TFA Prime, probably served together on like whatever the equivalent of a Warworld ship would be in this

Raiders??? Space pirates??? Idk but I’d def make em be related to Spinister’s past or smthn (this was inspired by some fanfic I read a bit ago, I think Fool’s Paradise on AO3)

Needlenose? (Spin trusted him, betrayed copter boy :((( or smthn)

Scorponok - probably the biggest threat of the show (ofc not in universe), but he’d be like IDW Scorponok in that one Scavs issue, all kinda silly and dramatic but def a threat, he kinda reminds me of Dino/BW Megatron a bit

DJD (absolutely unsure, maybe a passing mention or not at all) - would probably have to sillify them a bit (a lot, idk how the hell Cyberverse managed it with Tarn)...

There's more in the doc but they're not fully formed ideas yet... My countless hours scrolling the Scavengers tags on tumblr have also given me ideas for certain kinds of episodes that could happen but again, nothing concretely written down yet

If I have the energy or remember this, I'm def gonna be updating it with some more ideas cuz whether this becomes real or not, its fun!! Maybe I could write it as a fic one day or if someones wants to idk

Okay bai bai for now, I gotta eep 👋