#so i shall DESIST

[drivingsideways]

ok, but I feel seriously INSANE about this show, like , I want to immediately rewatch it from episode 1, which isn’t a feeling I’ve had since I finished Black Sails XXXVIII, took a deep breath and then clicked on I. 

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Kikuo apparently has a new merch shop and there’s a little iron-on patch of Kikuo’s stage persona; but I live in the states and shipping is about 56 dollars and holy shit I’m not doing that

[lokisgoodgirl]

A Gentlemen's Bond [Female.Reader x Loki/Bucky/Steve]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Set a time after A Gentlemen's Agreement, you and Loki decide to open up your bedroom. And who better to join you? Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Foursome. Smut. FMMM. Includes buttsmut. Cumplay. Consent is sexy. Dirty talk. (w/c 3.7k)

“Make no mistake gentlemen, she is mine,” Loki uttered. The words tripped menacingly from his tongue. He placed a languishing kiss on the curve of your neck to make his point, a soft whimper from your lips making him smirk against the crescent. The men in front of you groaned in unison.

You knelt in front of him on the bed. His bed. The only place your fantasies shall be fulfilled. He had been emphatic about that. “You are but guests here,” he murmured in the loaded, sensual voice usually reserved for when you were alone. The god knelt behind you, upright on his knees. The rippled carving of his firm stomach pressed against your shoulder-blades as he massaged your breasts. Calloused thumb-tips tugged achingly slowly at hard nipples. You whimpered as his hands slid down your waist, steadying one against your hip while the other made lazy circles on your clit. “Rentals, if you will,” he sniffed. At the barb, Rogers and Barnes stiffened. Their tops had been stripped, but the buckles of their belts remained politely fastened. Bucky shuffled, popping his hip with his thumbs tucked inside the waist of his jeans. You saw the flash of deeply muscled lines grooves come into view. Saliva welled in your mouth. Loki chuckled. “I meant no offence,” he purred, dipping his chin to nuzzle your collarbone. “But gentlemen, if our latest bond and its stipulations are to be upheld, then we must be crystal clear on who makes the rules.” Your eyes rose from the bulge of Loki’s flexing forearm as he stroked possessively between your legs, only his thumb visible grazing your mound. They slid from Bucky to Steve, the unmistakeable hunger in their stares making you dizzy. Heavy breaths made their chests rise and fall, broad shoulders shifting as each tried to make themselves bigger. More enticing. Like beasts, you thought with a smile. Ready to mate. “Me,” you said suddenly, biting your lip. Loki growled under his breath in approval. “I make the rules,” you finished.

“Yes, my darling” Loki said, letting his dark gaze wander upwards on the two super-soldiers straining against their trousers, waiting to be unleashed. “You do.” His fingertips cupped against your clit, pushing up. You hissed with pleasure as Steve groaned a long, shaking sigh. “Run through the rules again, I jus’ wanna...jus’ wanna be sure,” he grunted, fingers now drawn irrevocably to the polished sheen of his buckle.

“It is quite simple,” Loki breathed, the warmth of his skin fading as he drew up behind you. His knees sank into the mattress on either side of your hips. Your lover’s fingers massaged your neck, your eyelids fluttering closed on the sight of the soldiers looking sheepish as they fumbled with their heavy buckles. Loki’s voice was hard. Commanding. Fucking hot.

“She and I are bound. She is mine, as I am hers. She is under my protection. This is an invitation. An interlude, do not think it more,” he announced regally, squeezing your shoulders. He might be naked, but from the unwavering strength of his words he may as well have been in full Asgardian battle armour. The men in front of you nodded reverently. You could see the pulse points in their necks thumping. Beneath the tight material of their cotton slacks and dark jeans, snaking muscle stretched thick and tight against their hips. So hard. They were so fucking hard. Loki continued, as their stares smouldered. “If she tells you to stop, and you do not immediately desist?” he said, warning licking at the timbre of his voice like flame. “Before you can finish the next thrust, lick, or wander of an unwelcome hand, you will feel the edge of my dagger slice across your throat. Understood?”

You watched the men cast a glance towards one another, before they gave a nod of solidarity. “Still fair,” Bucky husked, stepping out of his jeans and kicking them to the corner in a crumpled heap. Steve was already folding his, turning to place them neatly on the wing-back chair by the door. “Whatever the lady wants, and nothing more, as agreed in the bond,” the blonde placated as he faced you and Loki with a lowering of his chin. You could feel the god bristle with power behind you. “We just really wanna fuck you babe,” Bucky growled with a smile, his chin tucked to his chest. “Respectfully,” Steve added, throwing his friend a scowl as the winter soldier’s jaw bobbed playfully side to side in mock scepticism. You smirked, feeling Loki lower to your ear. “You’re sure?” he murmured. The long tendrils of his hair wound through your fingers as you tilted your chin to face him. “Yes. But it’s always you. You know that, right?” The words filled the tiny space between your lips before Loki pressed his mouth to yours. His furiously hard cock was swollen snug against your spine. “Always,” he moaned quietly into your mouth. In slow tandem, you swung your gazes to meet the two sets of blue eyes already drunk with lust at the foot of the bed. “May we?” Steve said softly, gesturing to the empty side of mattress on your left with an arch of an eyebrow. You nodded, feeling the tingle of Loki’s breath on your cheek as his hands slid down your biceps. “Positions, gentlemen” he purred formally, “as discussed.” You had left the arrangements of the details of this debauched affair to your lover, a role that he was more than happy to fill. Once again, the idea of the three of them sharing conspiratorial conversations in the locker rooms filled your mind. It was foreplay. You squirmed on the bed, thighs splayed open as the gusset of your panties dragged wet. Or did they book a meeting room, you thought with a thrill.

The mattress sagged on either side, Steve and Bucky descending. Their stares crawled covetously over your curves as Loki loomed above like an archangel; sculpted from marble by Michelangelo himself. The brunette soldier leant forward, his metal palm spread against the sheets as his parted lips met yours. You sighed into his touch, running your fingers over his temple and combing back the long strands while his tongue danced in your mouth. He didn't taste like whisky this time, you noticed. The digits ran down his neck, feeling every tense of the ferocious muscle hiding beneath his skin. Loki’s cupped fingers massaged your clit, waves of pleasure building while his low, ragged breaths ghosted your ear.

Your fingers grazed down Bucky’s back, feeling raised trails and valleys of scar tissue. Bucky shivered, breaking from your lips. A strand of saliva hung between you before you turned, immediately meeting the mouth of the blonde soldier waiting impatiently to your right. The taste of his teammate was still strong on your tongue as you kissed him in a rising waft of ginger from his skin, melting together with your back still pressed to Loki’s chest.

Suddenly Loki pulled you back, letting Barnes slip your calves from beneath you. The brunette pushed your knees apart, thighs falling open. “Fuck, girl” he rasped, running a hand through messy, curtained hair with a sigh, “that’s fuckin’ pretty.” Your head lay against Loki’s lap, his violently hard cock pressed against your ear. You could feel the blood thumping through his veins, every pump throbbing against the angle of your jaw. The god lowered a lingering kiss to your lips, his tongue melting inside your mouth while Bucky’s began to run flat licks against your little cunt. Your pretty cunt. The moans from his throat were different from those you were accustomed to from Loki. Half-formed words lingered on heavy breaths that retained the thick accent slopping against his worship. You moaned like a whore as another set of lips fastened to a nipple, soft fingers toying and pinching the other. Your eyelids fluttered open, the sight of a muss of blonde hair latched to your chest while a chestnut crown rose between your splayed legs. It felt strange. Naughty. And it felt fucking good. Bucky’s thumbs dug into your hips, a shock of metal making you buck into him as cool steel became warmth. Loki’s voice bubbled in the air like liquid silver, the sound making it all feel like a lucid dream. “That’s my girl. Let them service you, pleasure you,” it said slowly. Your fingers wound in the short strands of Steve’s hair, the other grasping a tuft of Bucky’s, urging him deeper. They moaned in unison against your heated skin. The sound was transcendent. “Let them worship you, as I do,” Loki hummed as he watched in rapture, cock twitching against your cheek. “Just for tonight.” The cacophony of sighs dashed against your body like waves on rocks, wearing away any insecurities you ever had with each muted groan of pleasure. The coil winding inside you began to tremble and tighten. Your eyes refocused to Loki’s jaw set above your widening stare. His lips were parted, his whole body smouldering with arousal. Eyes fixed on you, writhing beneath him under the soldiers’ charms. “L-Loki, I’m gonna co-” you panted, seeking his approval in a moment of doubt. His knuckles trailed over the lines of your jaw, over the tight skin as the veins in your neck strained. Your head pressed heavy against his thighs, his fingers steadying beneath your chin as he held you in place. And still, his darkened eyes were fixed on you. “Come for them, sweet. Let them hear how beautiful you sound as you tumble over the edge,” he cooed in sultry tones, loud enough for the men to hear. Bucky suckled your clit with a wet growl, alternating wide licks that started deep in your core to the tip. The captain’s fingers tightened around your nipple, his tongue a soothing balm against the pulling sucks on the other. And with a shudder, you came. Your thighs tightened against Barnes’ head, a hand clawing down Steve’s muscled back as you shook the room with your cries of each of their names. A gush of arousal flooded the winter soldier’s outstretched tongue.

“Lie down, our good girl.” The command made chills run over your skin like the breeze from a fan. You felt Loki shift behind you, his huge frame filling your blurred vision as Steve and Bucky parted like the sea. He was so fucking beautiful, and he was all yours. Completely un-phased. The winter soldier pulled your ankles, sliding your ass to rest on the bed’s edge. Loki gracefully slotted himself crouched between your wet thighs, as you mewled his name. He chuckled, dragging his achingly turgid cock tight in his fist against your slit. “Are you happy?” he murmured solemnly. You nodded with a sex-drunk smile. “Then, gentleman,” Loki purred, casting a knowing glance to each side in turn, “positions.” The head of the god’s cock pressed inside your channel, dipping in and out as you arched up into him. Begging for more. Loki tutted playfully. He was crouching between your spread legs, hovering. “Patience, darling. We must wait for our guest.” On cue, you felt something cool and thick slather between your cheeks. Your hips bucked upwards, caught by Loki’s waiting palms. Relax, his eyes said. And so you did. A solitary ragged moan of anticipation dragged the air behind Loki’s triangular chest. Bucky. You looked up, Steve’s hardened features coming into view. The angles of his cheekbones had sharpened, pupils blown wide. He lowered, kissing you upside down as Barnes fingers played with your ass. Suddenly you felt something wide and hot nudge against your back entrance, testing you. Teasing you. “Yes,” you groaned in between Steve’s ravenous kisses, “fuck-k, yes Buck.” With a guttural moan, he edged inside; stilling as your fingers wrapped around Loki’s forearms. “More,” you gasped, pulling. Bucky obliged. Inch by inch, he filled you until his hips hit the curve of your cheeks with a gentle slap.

For a few moments, there was silence.

Each of the men held their breath, three sets of smouldering eyes drinking in the sight of the woman strewn in ecstasy beneath them. Their woman. If just for one night. “Loki, please,” you whined, thrusting up to catch his cock. All you wanted was to be filled and fucked and filled and fucked again. Loki chuckled, watching as your eyes lowered between your legs at the sight of him sinking slowly inside. The vein that had pulsed against your cheek was hard and thick along his shaft as it disappeared. Inch by goddam inch. The noise that strangled from your throat was inhuman. How appropriate, you mused; before your whole body was set alight with pleasure. Loki rocked in and out your slit, the gentle motion of his ass clenching and unclenching making your eyes roll back. How, you wondered in amazement, as Steve’s tongue massaged your own, his unfettered moans filling your throat; how is this actually happening?

The captain had taken over control of your breasts, his dexterous fingers flipping and pinching your nipples. Each wave was timed, the slow gyration of Loki and Barnes making your legs tremble. Loki slipped his forearms under your knees, hoisting you higher, his cock delving deeper. Bucky gasped gruffly, his girth sinking deeper in your ass. “H-holy shit, man” he stuttered, metal fingers steadying on Loki’s shoulder, “Shit, b-baby...you feel so fuckin’ good I swear to god.” That accent was syrup, dripping from his parted lips as he fucked you slowly. Carefully. As if you might break. And hell, maybe you would. Another climax blossomed like fire on a struck match, taking you surprise as you clenched around the furious lust filling you.

You couldn’t recall whose name you cried. Tonight, it didn’t matter. The men groaned like farmyard beasts, Bucky’s hips beginning to shudder and jolt against soft curves of flesh. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, the slap of his balls against your skin growing louder. Loki slowed the gyration of his hips, the tip of his manhood massaging your g-spot as Barnes roared behind him.

The soldier’s other hand flew to Loki’s shoulder, both squeezing in painful passion. The dark god's head fell back with a hiss as he filled you to the hilt, hair strewn in messy tendrils across his damp forehead while Bucky came behind him with a shuddering litter of curses. Every buck of your hips made sure he sank deeper, rolling with each dying syllable. Loki tilted forward as the brunette’s heavy breaths filled the air. His forehead pressed between your ringmaster's shoulder-blades, hands sliding reluctantly from the thick ropes of muscle on which they rested. “Fuck,” was all James Barnes could muster, as his cock slid gently from your ass. Loki didn’t slow his gyration as there was a changing of the guard behind your head.

Your prince's moans slipped through gritted teeth, half lidded eyes observing every searching twitch of your hands. Every crease in your forehead. Every gasp of his name.

A light sting clapped your ass, immediately massaging deep in the cheeks. You cried out, back leaving the mattress. “Careful!” Loki spat, throwing a dangerous glance over his shoulder. Out the corner of your eye, you lovingly noted the flash of emerald seidr melt from his palm. “Sorry,” Steve murmured, rubbing the surely pinked skin in apology. You squirmed with pleasure, feeling the raw stubble from Bucky’s jaw scratch over your cheek as Loki moved in shallow, pulsing thrusts. The winter soldier pressed your breasts together, beginning to palm them in circles as Steve’s cock nudged against your back entrance, still slippery with cum. A finger ran around the pucker, collecting the neglected white ropes before sucking it clean. The sound he made was filth as he edged inside, a slurping squelch of seed squeezing around his girth making his knees buckle. His fingertips sank into your flesh, pulling you onto him again and again. Carefully. Slowly. “Steve...J-James...Loki,” you mewled, making the men chuckle in unison. You could feel orgasm bubbling in your centre, wound tight and bursting with adrenaline and cum and cock. Bucky lowered his mouth to yours, sweat from his cheeks moistening your own. “You sound real fuckin’ cute when you say our names babe,” Bucky growled, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Y-yeah. Hell-yeah,” Steve gasped through staggered breaths; every pump of his hips into your ass making his eyes roll back. His face was flushed with desire, tongue darting against his bottom lip as he desperately fought to contain what you were sure were the worst curses he would ever utter. Every muscle in your body tightened as you came, the feral roars from Loki and Steve sheathed inside you making you shudder as Bucky held your shoulders fast to the bed. Stars blossomed beneath your eyelids, the erotic music of their adoration making your head spin. Steve came first, pulling your ass flush to his hips as he tumbled into ecstasy with a strangled cry of your name. He was shaking, sweaty palms not knowing where to steady himself before he slumped against Loki’s back. On cue, Loki raised your calves higher, his gentle thrusts turning with a glint in his eye. They narrowed, smouldering down at you with utter devotion as another clench of his ass sent him to the hilt. “My perfect little fox,” he grunted, voice thick with desire, dripping like wax. “End me.” Your fingers gripped the bedsheets as you felt Steve slip from your ass, hearing him stumble against the wall. Clenching around Loki’s cock, you bucked up into him with all the force you could muster. Wrung dry, spent, utterly fucked out – there was always more. For him, there was always more. Loki’s hands gripped your wrists, pushing your hands upwards against Bucky’s chest as his face buried in the sweaty crescent of your neck. He came hard, a violent juddering of his hips accompanying silence before his wet, thunderous exhale of pleasure. His breaths were heavy as he sat up, running a hand through his hair with a grin. As perfect as he ever was, but with a pink tinge in his cheeks. He stood, walking over the bed with a smile as he watched you writhe. Empty and missing them.

“Wait man, didn’t you blow?” Bucky said sceptically. He motioned to the thick cock still proudly bobbing between Loki’s thighs with no sign of abatement. The god chucked, throwing you a knowing smirk. You cleared your throat, still panting. “He’s different-” you mumbled, running your eyes hungrily down your full-time lover’s achingly hot body and back to his face. “Which is a good thing too, since this one is never sated,” Loki purred, as the men switched positions again. “Well goddam,” Bucky muttered, impressed. Your hand grasped out to thin air, searching for someone, anyone, to fill it. On cue, Bucky spread his thighs beside you, your fingers wrapping gratefully around his semi. Steve’s face scrunched, any jealousy washed away with a proceeding squeeze of his fist around his spent manhood. The final milk dripped against your ass. "Ya done big guy?" Bucky teased, a smile tugging his dimples as the captain's resolve settled back on his face. "Nossir," Steve growled, licking his lips as determined eyes roamed up your legs. In a flash, he began working wet kisses up your calves, your thighs, grunts filling the air once again. Bucky's manhood was growing tentatively in your loose fist, wanking him slowly as Loki's thighs settled on either side of your head.

“Jeez man, she tastes so good,” Steve moaned muffled against your slit. Bucky groaned in appreciation while your hand slipped up and down his length. The pace was erratic, squeezing hard and jolting with every circle of Rogers eager tongue around your clit.

“I think that might be me, your tasting,” Loki hummed, knuckles white as he stroked himself slowly above your head. You could see every straining vein on his shaft from below, the wet head tapping tantalisingly on your cheek, on your lips with every squeeze of his hand. Conducting the men like a choir. Just out of reach. “Both of you?" Steve slurred happily to himself, lost in the elixir of arousal between your legs. Fingers worked through Steve’s hair, looping back to clutch more as every messy kiss against your pussy sent you higher. Your back arched, tongue stretching upwards. You managed to lap the smooth, hot tip of Loki’s cock while he watched Rogers busy himself between your open thighs. His hand never ceased pleasuring himself, smouldering with primal need as mischievous glint you hadn’t seen before sparked in his eyes.

“Fuck,” Loki groaned, letting your lips wrap loosely around the leaking head. You sucked against his foreskin, pulling it gently between your lips. “Say his name, darling” Loki teased, voice like sea foam melting into sand, “tell the captain how good he’s making you feel. He’ll like that.” You moaned Steve’s name, filthy praise like a chant as your hips rocked against his mouth. The blonde’s fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your thighs, enthusiastic pants and the crease in his brow betraying his basest desires. Praise kink, you thought smugly; before stars burst again beneath your closed eyelids. Feeling the brush of Loki’s cock against your cheek beneath the flurry of his fist, you came with a rush of garbled curses. Sweetness flooded against the captain’s tongue as he trailed languishing licks, orgasm fading like breath on a mirror. Loki’s stomach muscles clenched, a roar filling the room as he came over your face. Hot splatter coated your lips, rolling in slow, thick trails of ambrosia over your chin, your jaw, down the curve of your neck. Bucky whined. The mattress dipped as Steve’s palms edged forwards, his body rising like goliath between your shaking legs. His mouth glistened with sex and sweat, eyes fierce and dark as hell. That stare traced every decadent rivulet of Loki’s mess before his gaze rose to its owner. “Do it,” Loki commanded slowly, smiling as he continued to stroke himself. A final drop squeezed out, landing with a filthy splat on your chin. Steve shivered, lowering his sweat damp face your shoulder. He licked upwards, growing braver as he followed the trail of Loki’s cum with dirty groans that shook through your chest. Eventually, Steve’s mouth covered yours, alternating between claiming your kiss and licking the remnants of god-seed from your cupids bow. His tongue tasted like Loki. The sensation made you clench around air. “Good boy,” Loki hummed, running his fingers through Steve’s hair as he buried himself in your neck. There was a pause, the scent of animalism thick in the air. “But now, gentlemen, it is time for you to depart.” Steve looked up with wide eyes. You heard Bucky grunt in annoyance. “You know the rules, gentlemen,” Loki continued. You could hear the smirk in his voice. “I think the lady has taken what she needs, don’t you?” The words registered in a haze. You nodded, smiling happily as your head lay nestled between the god’s comforting thighs. “Thanks boys,” you mumbled, slurred while you waved a hand that fell immediately back to the bed. The mattress shifted as bodies rose. You heard the low clunk of metal and shifting of fabric dragging against body hair as deft, familiar fingertips danced up your thigh. A tender kiss was placed on the centre of your mound as the door clicked shut. Alone again. “Happy Anniversary,” Loki breathed, seductive and hot against the tremble. Your let out a spent sigh, lost in the gentle motion of his soft kisses and pretty words. Outside, you could hear the slap of palms on shoulders as the soldiers left in measured silence. “It’s always you, Loki,” you purred again, blissfully winding fingers through his damp curls as he kissed closer to your centre. With a tingle of his magic, you felt yourself cleansed, the sex and sweat of the others dissipated. You craned down with difficulty, seeing feigned confusion etched across his forehead. “Well, yes” he purred, widening your legs with a sultry wink. “Which is why we’ve saved the best for last.”

Tags (contd in comments) @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @jaidenhawke @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[tinydefector]

I would love to request some possessive Prowl x gn!reader <3. Just pretty much anything, I love your writing!!!

Klik Away

Prowl x Human reader

Prowl masterlist

(Chapter2) (chapter 3)

(Chapter 4)

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing, forced proximity

Request and ask open, read pinned post

_________________

The sound of running echoes through the storage house. Prowl halted his advancement with an irritated vent, doorwings fluttering in agitation. His investigation had led him here but now he was in a chase. 

Instead, a tiny fleshling's escape had disrupted everything. Watching it flee in panic, he briefly considered the merits of giving chase versus simply calling for backup. But allowing an organic to get themself killed wasn't something he wished to write out reports over. 

With a muttered Cybertronian curse, Prowl continues  giving chase. lights flickering to illuminate the warehouse's shadowy depths. His scanners locate the human's heat signature as they continue running and throwing things behind them to try and stall him. 

The human takes off under more shelving, taking an opportunity to throw a paint can in Prowl's direction, he swiftly raises an arm to block the flying projectile with an irritated hiss. When they try to scale the scaffolding, his strides lengthen enough to gently yet firmly enclose grasping fingers around their torso before more perilous stunts could be pulled.

"Desist this behaviour at once," he droned, holding the squirming human away from his body protectively but firmly. His doorwings twitched in irritation.

"I said I would not harm you. Now explain or I shall be forced to manually sedate you." His tone remained dispassionate though patience waned. He needed to know where the other traffickers were, if there were others. 

Cooled air blew from his vents as piercing optics assessed the organic, ever analytic processor weighing their next move.

Panicked breathes come from them as they squirm, "let me go!, let me go!" They shriek. Prowl suppressed another irritated groan at the tiny organic's persistent shrieks and useless struggles against his secure yet harmless grip. 

With another exasperated vent, "Cease this immediately. Panic will not aid your predicament. Now answer: how did you come to be here?"

"I don't know! You fucking kidnapped me!" They shout. Prowl cycled his vents with long-suffering patience, doorwings fluttering with barely-contained irritation. These organic creatures proved taxing. 

"I can assure you with 100% certainty that I did not 'fucking' kidnap you," he replied dryly. "Were that the case, would I now be wasting valuable processor power tolerating these hysterics instead of my intended operation?" 

Optics remained focused on them, Patience thinning, "I require information." His biolights flashed exasperatedly. "Now stop flaying. I intercepted your traffickers' signal and followed it to this warehouse,Tell me of your captors - numbers, appearance, probable location. I will terminate their operation, then see you to safety and medical care." Slowly he brought the creature closer, servos cupping protectively, Prowl raised an orbital ridge, vocals polished with aloof confidence. 

"I don't know asshat!I don't know, they kept me locked in a box, I could only hear them or see them when they brought me food" they whimper. while trying to hit his servo with their hand, wanting him to let go. Prowl cycled another steadying ventilation, recognizing the human was spent more than expected after the distressing ordeal. 

 His doorwings tilted slightly lower in a posed effort to seem less intimidating. "Very well." He resigned himself to improvising. "You require medical care and safety until you can be relocated. You will come with me back to the station."

His call brought over an enforcement cruiser, he filled them in on the situation. After he's done he transforms Depositing the human inside not so gently as he takes off, Prowl coordinated his team via comms to wrap up operations.The drive proceeded in uncomfortable silence.

Prowl's doorwings flickered tautly as he faced off against a surprisingly immovable Optimus Prime, it was rather strange seeing him back in the force. 

"With all due respect, Prime, you cannot expect me or any other officer to alter standard duties caring for an unruly petro-rabbit," he retorted coolly. "It creates disruption and liability. The logical solution remains finding accommodations better suited among its own kind."

Optimus' field pulsed mild reproof. "Prowl, the human has no such option, until a ship can be organised for safe transport,  No one has come forward for guardianship, and due to the circumstances I doubt anyone will. It now falls to you." His tone allowed no argument.

Prowl suppressed a disgruntled noise. "While protecting all sentient life aligns with your doctrine, I have covered several orns of duties already and can not be diverted to care for this...squishy."

“Prowl this is not up for debate” Optimus states, it makes Prowl want to snarl back at him but he holds back storming out of the office, picking up the human as he goes. 

Despite Prowl's protest the human ends up in his guardianship, and he is forced to take them back to his apartment. The drive is rather uneventful; both of them are quite not wishing to speak to the other. And he's not happy about the situation. 

Prowl set them down none-too-gently upon a seating unit in his private hab, before whirling to pace agitatedly across polished flooring. His doorwings flared in sharp, irritated angles. “Ow what the fuck asshole!” Thye shout while rubbing their sore joints. 

"This situation has become utterly untenable," he spat without glancing at the organic, servos gesticulating crisply to emphasise each word. "I am a law enforcer and tactician, not a crèche worker to cater to some fleshy creature disrupting my operations” 

He jabbed an emphatic digit toward the human. "You will remain here, while I am absent. Do not wander or touch anything. Refuel only at designated intervals so as not to inconvenience me further."

Prowl knew he should modulate for the soft sensory packages organics possessed. But rationality abandoned him in the face of such unprecedented upheaval to his routine.

"Once communications are restored, the earliest ship will relocate you back to your kind. Until then..." He cycled a furious ventilation. "Do not compromise my operations or wander further than your unwanted presence already has." His frustrated field pulsed like an agitated bear, before he spun on a heelstrut moving to his table to overlook datapads and check how things had been progressing. He begins taking comm calls as he types away. 

They flip him off, turning their back to him, their eyes linger on the soft cloth Prowl had laying on the table. They look back at him, eyes linger for a moment watching him argue over comms with others but at that moment they didn't care, they were sore, tired and just wanted to sleep. His engine revved with barely-contained outrage. How dare that little organic upset his living space so profoundly

Prowl paced in his office, doors twitching erratically as comm traffic flooded with commentary on his new "ward." Finally he slammed a fist on the console, engines snarling. "The first transport capable will deliver it back through the spacebridge."

He jabbed frustratedly at a datapad, recalibrating schedules disrupted by this nonsense. Unwelcome surprise flashed across his HUD."first ship available, you are gone. Until then, do not tax what remains of my patience." His words were scorching weapons aimed to inflict. 

They ignore him moving towards the cloth, curling themself into it and making a makeshift bed and blanket. Shivers rack their body over how cold the apartment is but they aren't willing to say anything instead turning away from Prowl and hunkering down into the cloth.

 Green makes her presence known with noises, the flyt taking to Prowl's shoulders, chirping at her owner as she snuggles against prowl. Prowl vented hot air through clenched dental plates, 

His plating clamped tighter as Green chirps around his helm in useless attempts to soothe. With a swat, he sent the pet flying off in a frustrated burst of motion. Even his flyt pet proved irritating at that moment!

They let out a choked up gasp as Prowl picks them up, wrapped in the cloth, "where are you taking me!" They shout. Prowl rumbled with barely-restrained ire as he carried the bundled human toward his personal berth. "Silence," he snapped when it squealed. "I require recharge and will not suffer your disruptions further." Cycling another vent, as stomped toward his hab suite. A brief check of climate controls explained the shivering organic - it was no wonder, given the mech ran hotter.

With a few taps, the thermostat warmed to a more suitable temperature.  He moves towards the berth dumping them onto the hard surface, Prowl loomed over the human once more, entire frame radiating impatience.

His plating clamped taut as he deposited it onto the berth beside himself, looming over the tiny squishy form. "You will remain here undisturbing while I power down," he hissed, Biolights flashing irritably.

Green tries to investigate what had taken her spot on the berth only for Prowl to knock her away, when the flyer pestered, Prowl scooped up the human bundle none-too-gently. "Cause me any disruption and you will face consequences fully." With that less-than-comforting threat, Prowl grumbled low in his chassis and shuttered his optics, forcing stiff joints and wire-frazzled processors to unwind through firm self-discipline.

They squirm lightly trying to get comfortable, they eventually find themself pressed against Prowl's chassis, it's warm and the sound from it eventually lures them to sleep, cloth wrapped around their body. Their eyes shut, out of exhaustion as they cuddle against the mech.

Prowl peepers down beside him, entire frame tensing at the unwelcome sensation. He glanced down to find the human entangled against his chassis plates, curled almost...comfortably? beneath the outer edges of his field.

Green buzzed overhead, clearly agitated at losing her favoured recharge spot. Prowl shot the flyt a warning look, bidding her silence. His processor whirled, examining how to extricate from this undignified scenario without disturbing the human.

His field registered its small organic frame finally relaxing in restful recharge, tiny vents puffing soft exhalations against his plating. Prowl cycled a quiet ventilation, surprised by the peculiar gentleness such a fragile life exuded up close.

It unnerved him. As did the grudging tenderness prompting him to simply remain, allowing recharge to continue undisturbed. Prowl glared at nothing, discomfited. 

The human meant nothing - a temporary obligation soon rectified. Yet...he did not move to dislodge them either, His engine rumbled ever-so-softly, His field pulsed disturbance even as recharge didn't come to him, systems fighting the illogic of sharing space with such a fragile life form. But it would have to do until he could be rid of the organic contaminating his dwelling at last. Pit takes the inconvenience...

Just a klik. Then order would resume, they would be gone soon enough. 

[breakfastteatime]

The Force has many ways of imparting its message. Sometimes it nudges. Other times it bellows. Now, very (very) early in the morning, the Force is a feather brushing across a bare foot. Jaro awakens with a smile and a certainty.

Cal needs him. Why, he does not know. It is not a bad feeling. Just the knowledge that Jaro’s presence is required.

Leaving the comfort of his bed, Jaro slips on his robe, clips his lightsaber to his belt, and heads out. Cal’s room is nearby, and the hallways are quiet this time of night, the distant and ever-present hum of the engines the only sound to hear.

Reaching Cal’s room, Jaro opens the door and immediately sees he has a problem. It is not an unexpected one, it is merely one he has not had to deal with before. It reminds him of how short a time Cal has been his apprentice. He had been warned the day he took Cal from the creche. Master Entola, noticeably red around the eyes, looked across her desk at Jaro with a fond smile.

“Cal will sleepwalk every now and then. There’s no avoiding it,” she told him. “Not far, and you’ll usually find him talking to a wall, but it is something you should be aware of.”

This morning, Cal has made good on Master Entola’s promise. He is not in his bed. He is not in his room at all. His blanket his strewn across the deck, along with a datapad. His boots are neatly placed alongside the rest of his clothes, meaning wherever he is, he is barefoot.

Knowing he can’t get into too much trouble – there are literally thousands of people aboard this ship, and Cal is likely to bump into at least one of them – Jaro does not immediately rush off or send out a ship-wide announcement telling everyone to keep an eye out for the boy. He shall spare his Padawan whatever blushes he can. Instead, Jaro reaches into the feather soft Force and seeks out Cal’s presence. Shrouded in sleep though he may be, Cal is still Cal.

He is also several decks below Jaro.

Curious, wondering what dream could lead Cal so far away, Jaro takes the nearest turbolift down to where Cal is. He nods to every clone he walks past, all of them snapping to attention and saluting. Jaro does not particularly like it, finds their pre-programmed reverence somewhat distasteful, sentients should be free to choose who they dedicate their lives and loyalty to, yet he does not ask them to desist.

The ‘lift deposits him in a cargo bay. There are many aboard the Brave, but this one is reserved for emergency supplies should they need to evacuate civilian populations. Winding his way through the crates, Jaro becomes aware of a small voice.

“…so tall, you can’t miss him.”

Jaro turns a corner and there he is, Cal, and as promised he is talking to a wall. Well, no, not a wall. A container, apparently containing emergency clothing supplies. From the big smile on Cal’s face, what he sees in his dream does not match the mundanity of reality.

…unless the boy has a fondness for ponchos and rainboots.

“Should I wake him when I find him?” Jaro had asked Master Entola.

“No. Best to simply take him back to bed. He will stay there once you put him back. One little nighttime stroll is all he ever seems to need.”

And so Jaro crouches down and speaks softly. “Cal?”

The boy looks up (and up) to Jaro, smiling brightly. “Here he is!” Cal tells the crate. “See? He’s very tall.” He nods as though the crate is passing comment on Jaro’s height.

“Come.” Jaro places a hand on Cal’s shoulder. “And bring your new friend.”

This, apparently, is precisely what Cal’s dream expects. He chatters brightly, telling his imaginary friend that they’ll be safe now, Master Tapal is a very good Jedi.

“What happened?” Jaro asks, guiding Cal onto the ‘lift.

“She got lost,” Cal tells him. “In the woods. She couldn’t find her family. She found me instead. And then we found you.” The sleeping boy frowns. “Or you found us. I’m not really sure.”

“The outcome is the same either way,” Jaro says as they board the turbolift.

The ‘lift arrives on the residential deck and he and Cal step out. The troopers all salute again, greeting Cal, but Cal is too busy talking about trees and getting lost to notice. Of course, he is also quite literally asleep on his feet. Given that he would have walked past all of them on his sleepwalk through a dream forest, Cal either said enough to silence any concern, or they assumed he was on Jedi business and let him get on with it.

Back in Cal’s room, Jaro steers him back into bed with lots of reassurances that his new friend will be safely escorted back to her family. He tucks him in and opts to remain in the room until, as advertised, Cal simply drifts off into standard Human sleep, the type where he remains in bed with his eyes closed and his voice silent. The Force settles around him, a quiet hum to match the engines, and Jaro finally feels it is safe to leave Cal for the rest of the night.

At a civil hour, Cal emerges from his cabin bright-eyed and completely unaware of his earlier excursion.

“Are you okay, Master? You look tired.”

Oh, to have the energy of youth. “I am well, Padawan.” And will be even better once he consumes a small bucket of caf. “You look very well-rested.”

“Uh huh!”

And, as Jedi tradition dictates, a Jedi Master is allowed to have a little fun in the name of education. “Perhaps you would like to go for a run after breakfast,” Jaro suggests. “A lap of the nearby cargo deck before we resume lightsaber training.”

“Okay!”

Jaro sighs. He cannot win. Perhaps when Cal is in his teens a task like that will result in much stifled complaining and malicious compliance.

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Aoi Todo x Reader

Minor spoilers for chapter 260

Aoi Todo:

You are a gym bro, your favorite song is baby got back and you have several cease and desist letters from various celebrities that you stalk.

First Date:

You were listening to your Takada playlist whilst you did your workout but you heard a noise so loud that it began to overpower your ear buds. You took them out only to realise that another fight broke out. You weren't surprised, after all, testosterone fueled men frequently argued over just about anything. You looked over to see what the fuss was all about. Oh. It's one of the regulars and a particularly annoying one at that. It looks like he was fighting with a new guy. "Why does he look like a gorrila?"

You began to listen to their argument while working out thanks to the wonders of multitasking. "DO YOU EVEN LIFT BRO!?" Not again, you thought. What happened next caught you off guard.

"What's your type?"

"My what!?"

"Type of woman! Now answer my question or I'll beat you to death where you stand!"

You guessed that he wasn't pleased with the answer because the next thing you knew, the other man was punched so hard in the face that he hit the wall and left an indent.

"A person's fetishes reflect everything about them. People with boring taste in women are boring people themselves. And I hate boring men!" He began to walk away and then stopped. "By the way, my type is a tall woman with a big ass!" Shit. You did your best to try and shrink down but it was too late. "My, what is such a cute woman as yourself doing in a place like this?"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm working out, idiot!" You expected him to go away but he seemed amused. "Men are perfect when they're a little dumb." Ugh. "And who exactly said this?" He began to grin and was about to respond when your phone cut him off. Fuck, it was your ringtone. Why now of all times? You looked at the gorrila man and saw that his face was flushed. "Is that Takada chan's new song, jumping?"

The next thing you knew, he was crying and and on his knees. "Please marry me!" You didn't figure this guy to be so into idols. "I don't even know you, pervert!"

"My name is Aoi Todo. Would you lend me your hand in marriage?" Gross. "Ew, no!"

"Will you at least come with me to see Takada's next appearance?" You groaned. "If I do, will you leave me the hell alone after this!?"

Todo then gave you a thumbs up. "I shall stop pursuing you if that is what my BEST FRIEND wishes." What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

It was a week later and you both met outside the concert venue. "What the hell happened to you?" Todo looked down to his bandaged arm. "Oh, this? Don't worry bro. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to woo Takada chan but then I remembered that even the great Helen Keller completed her mission with a missing limb!"

"... That's not Helen Keller Todo..."

"Wait, it's not? Then who ran across the country with just one leg!?"

"... Terry Fox."

"I don't have time to talk about foxes, we're going to miss Takada!" Todo then pulled your arm and dashed to the crowd. "Shit. The stadiums full. Looks like we'll be watching at the back!" Todo went to adjust his bandages. "I think I have a solution." Next thing you knew and you were transported to the front row. "What did you just do?"

"Don't worry about it." That didn't satisfy you so you grabbed his arm and nearly screamed. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?" Instead of a hand, there was now a giant wooden instrument. "Ah, that would be my vibraslap." You pulled him down by his uniform collar. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?""Don't worry #####, we as true Takada fans are the exception.""You can't just cheat and skip ahead of everyone! What if we get caught!?"

"The Jetavana Temple Bells ring the passing of all things. Twinned sal trees, white in full flower, declare the great man's ceratin fall. The arrogant do not lotng endure: they are like a dream one night in spring. The bold and brave perish in the end: they are dust before the wind".

You were about to ask him what the fuck he meant but then the lights dimmed. "Hello, everyone! Thank you so much for coming! Taka-Tam beam!" The crowd began to cheer and you could have sworn that Todo had invited you to a boy band performing for teenage girls. As Takada began performing, you heard a "BOOGIE WOOGIE" emit from the crowd.

You didn't know how he did it but Todo was now dancing on stage. The music stopped and Takada was calling for security but he didn't care. He decided to sing in an attempt to court her. "I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE, YOU OTHER BROTHERS CAN'T DENY-" He was then cut off and dragged away by Takada's personal swat team. It turns out that Todo isn't legally allowed to be within 500 feet of her.

Todo was being cuffed and placed in the back seat of an officer's vehicle. "TAKADA CHAN, I'LL WAIT FOR YOU!"

[p-redux]

So, more info from Hyrox Glasgow 2024! Again, thanks Team for all the DMs, I really appreciate you! ❤️

Reminder of what I posted yesterday.

And

So, today, I get this video of Sarah Holden competing at Hyrox Glasgow, and you can CLEARLY hear Sam Heughan cheering her on. Sam's voice is at the very end. At the beginning, you hear a man with a thick Glasgow accent pronouncing Sarah's name Serah. That's NOT Sam. There's also a woman's voice. And at the END of the video, you can hear Sam's unmistakable "C'mon, Sarah!" This was shared by one of the Team and I saved it to my YouTube Channel. Enjoy!👇

I also received this DM with additional info. 👇 Posted with permission.

Here's the pic where Sam is tagged. 👇

And Sarah posting she got FOMO aka Fear Of Missing Out and spontaneously competed today in the women's open race. 👇 She definitely matches Sam's energy level! I'm tired just looking at her. 😊

Anyhoooo, I also got some conflicting info regarding whether Sam competed yesterday after all. I was alerted to this Tweet. 👇

And then I received this DM from someone I've never talked to. 👇

It's all very confusing. On the one hand, it is weird that if Sam competed, he never posted anything on his own IG. On the other hand, Hyrox DID post his results as if he DID compete yesterday. 👇

If Sam decided to not compete and wanted to give his slot to someone else, why wouldn't Hyrox be able to substitute the other man's name? Everything is computerized, so I don't see why they couldn't have made the change easily. Also, isn't it fraudulent to post results with Sam Heughan's name if he wasn't the one competing?

On the flip side, if Sam didn't actually compete, then he literally went to Hyrox to watch Sarah! Those saying "No, he went to watch his friend, Valbo. who also competed." Yeah, except Valbo didn't compete until 6:00 PM yesterday, and Sam was there at 12:00 PM, when the women's competitions started. Literally RIGHT THERE where Sarah was competing. 👇

No reason for Sam to be there 6 HOURS before Valbo was competing if he only went to support Valbo. 🤷‍♀️

I ran out of room to post pics since Tumblr limits to 10 pics, but I also got a DM saying Sam got a bunch of new Instagram follows who are Sarah Holden fans. That leads me to think they went to follow him because they saw him with Sarah at Hyrox.

So, that's it for now. I'm in the process of vetting someone from the Glasgowish area who approached me with some Sam and Sarah info. If she and the info check out, then I'll post it.

PS. I'm hearing from people that my usual haters and assorted newish haters are gnashing their teeth about my #samarah posts...same as it ever was. This has happened any time I've ever posted about Sam possibly dating someone. If you look at my track record for the last 10 years, my info has been at least 90% accurate. No one in the Outlander fandom would have known about Cait and Tony, and Sam and Cody, Abbie, Mackenzie, etc if not for my INSIDER source info, and me posting it FIRST. Facts, people. So, the hate makes no never mind to me. I keep doing me. I'm here for those who want the info. If that's not you, go somewhere else. Simple as that.

Oh, one more thing...the LIE that I have a restraining order against me from Sam resurfaced in my Inbox. Let's use our brains once in our lifetime, shall we? If I had a restraining order or a cease and desist, I wouldn't still be here, now would I? Doh. 🤦‍♀️ My blog is just like any celebrity news blog. It's called freedom of speech, peeps. And in the USA people have died to protect this right. That's all, folks.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Unicron is to me like that picture "three cats, two cats cuddle happily twhile one is stuck and has absolute look of horror on its muzzle" regarding him being stuck between Moon and Earth love.. Just the thought of Unmaker being domesticated with *gasp*✨feelings✨ is so funny

Earth, Moon:*sappy*

Unicron: I don't approve.

Moon: No one asked you.

Unicron: You're aware we may be two but are one? She's me. I am her. We are one in body and mind. You're basically flirting as humans say with me too eugh.

Earth: I love you both equaly 💚

Unicron: Desist.

This is a fun thought, and I am down for it for the most part. However, Earth and Unicron are totally separate. Earth formed of Unicron and now wraps around him like a shell. If she really wanted, she could tear herself off Unicron. Of course, she will never do this while her children wander her surface. Ripping herself off Unicron would cause irreparable damage to her systems. And not to mention, without someone to connect to in order to power herself, she wouldn't last long. Earth requires a power source. Be that Unicron, a star, or another similarly sized bot, it is irrelevant.

Moon has plans to pull Earth away from Unicron and wrap her around his frame instead if things go too far south. All he needs to do is save her spark and processor and he can repair her slowly. He's a Titan, and he firmly believes that he can save his beloved Earth if it were to be required of him.

Earth has no idea these plans exist. She also does not know she could pull away from her maker. Moon is the only one with the specs and he has refrained from telling her for fear of her refusing to listen in the event separation becomes required.

Infodump aside, yeah Unicron eventually warming up to affection is adorable. The Unmaker, the Chaos Bringer, slowly forced to accept affection over the vorns as his unintentional offspring and his unwanted Titan warden. Earth basks him in her awe at all times and Moon has a weird rivalry with him that looks odds friendly at times. Would he still obliterate Earth and Moon if given the chance to wake? On paper, the answer is yes. But he isn't sure anymore.

How can he be sure when his two idiot roommates are constantly in his buisness.

Earth: Father, do you believe that one day I shall see the stars beyond this solar system?

Unicron, knowing full and well that Earth will have to die for either of them to move anywhere: ...

Moon: Of course dear one! When your children are capable of spacefaring, we shall traverse the stars together.

Earth: But what about you Father? Would you be willing to travel? I cannot move without your consent.

Unicron: Unless we are going to destroy my brother, I have no interest in wasting energy.

Moon: Still stuck up on that bro-con train are we?

Unicron: Titan, desist.

Moon: No I don't think I will. You've got the biggest stick up your aft I've witnessed since Prima himself came to demand my assistance!

Earth: Moon, father, please-

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

About Meghan's coat of arms (CoA).

Firstly, i'm sure by now you know that it is out of date. She needs to write to Lord Chamberlain or the college of arms to request an updated version. 

The CoA she put up doesn't acknowledge the new reign. It's showing the coronet of the son of the heir to the throne. Boy does she want to tie herself to William..lol i kid!! But point remains. She needs to get th coronet of the son of the Sovereign. 

Secondly, while the CoA was created for her, it is a royal CoA with elements of the royal standard and royal accroutrements which as we know from 2020 is a no no. You can't use 'royal' for your tacky commercial deals. 

The only people who can use their royal CoA are the Monarch, PoW and their spouses. That jeans KC, QC, PoW and PssoW. In a strange way, in this modern age, a personal royal CoA is useless except for those 4 people because they are the only ones allowed to use it. At best you get a signet ring with it stamped in the ring to show off the fact that you have a personal CoA. 

In this case, Meghan dusted off her CoA to use because in her mind she is equal to Kate and if Kate is going to start using her arms then so shall Meghan. 

It's PoW investiture viewings at BP all over again except we don't have Major Nana and Ed Young to see them off. Ditto every other time Meghan has tried to claim something that Kate had by right of her position as the wife of the heir or in general gecause Meghan covets everything Kate has. 

And Charles is playing reindeer games instead of letting the Lord Chamberlain do his job and send a cease and desist letter to the Sussexes which he would have done by now if it was The Queen in charge. That office was very robust under her tenure. Didn't need explicit instructions to do their job. And they policed the use of royal CoA very strictly. 

Reminds me when Fayed went around telling the world that Philip had ended Diana and Dodi, Harrods lost the royal CoAs the store proudly carried for over 30yrs. Starting with Philip's CoA. Harrods still doesn't have any royal CoAs even though Fayed sold it over a decade ago. 

[srbachchan]

DAY 5564

Jalsa, Mumbai                May 11/12,  2023                Thu/Fri  12:39 AM

🪔 .. May 12 .. birthday affection to Ef Deepa Krishna .. Ef Iris Sharara .. and Ef Svetlana Beregovaya from Russia 🇷🇺 .. be well and happy .. ❤️ from your Ef Family ..

..

And there shall be deep consternation, by all the Ef,  on my not coming back earlier in the day when I had said I would .. yes that is valid and acceptable .. the work and the matters of other kinds of work kept me glued to the banters and there was little I could do to get out of there .. 

I am still not out of the woods .. the mind travels faster than expected these  days .. and on issues and subjects that do not necessarily have any medium that is common to them .. 

And the mind thinks harder than before .. of matters that not just define the scheduled activities of the day , but of that and those that have not relevance to the immediate process of thought ..

What transpired years and years ago come into brilliant light suddenly, when involved in thoughts and deeds that be relevant just now .. why one cannot say .. but many pundits of the celestial world do bring a semblance of thought in this direction to explain why this should happen to us and what the implications of that are .. 

And they do not sound respectable ..

So I shall desist .. another day of debate and discussion perhaps ..

The roads of the city are filled with the amount of traffic that would require immense amount of you know what .. but that needs a very pronounced reading writing and educative temperament to instil basic character first in the ones that have been given driving licenses or other such paper work to legitimise the work given for execution ..

It needs not campaign trailers to talk about discipline and authentic knowledge of traffic and its laws , but the desire to express empathy for the fellow driver on the road ..  the one behind the one in front the one in great need to side you and bring himself up front .. only to realise that he should have followed the code of conduct carefully .. before ..

It is a most frustrating site to watch how the rules and regulations from traffic departments are side stepped and disobeyed rampantly .. when we follow why do not the others .. 

That be the reason for the frustration to creep in ..

A solution shall be formed I am certain .. and that shall be the day of redemption .. 

I am dropping off to slumber .. but never without the consideration that many of the Ef shall be in waiting .. 

Love 

Amitabh Bachchan 

[bougiebutchbitch]

"keep writing until they get married" WAIIIIIIIIIIIIIT how do you think hughtrain marriage would look like?

DO NOT TEMPT ME INTO WRITING THIS, SATAN

okay short answer rather than ficlet because 1) I am a coward and 2) I am a coward but

Reggie demands a Kardashian wedding, but Hughie is like. No. Cease and desist. This is my hill and I am dying on it. It's gonna be quiet. It's gonna be only people we actually give a shit about. NO paparazzi, nothing. Reggie grumbles, but discovers the joy of a tiny low-key wedding with just friends and family, and actually prefers it WAY more than if he had to put on a whole performance for the cameras!

I get the feeling Frenchie would be like, an ordained minister or whatever, because he can already do everything else under the sun, so he marries them while high on shrooms. The punch is spiked by somebody who shall remain nameless (Butcher). Halfway through the ceremony, a random supe crashes through the ceiling of the tiny church they rented and they all have to switch into battle mode - so they finish the ceremony an hour later, surrounded by the settling dust of the destroyed church, and smooch while covered in blood~

[jabberwondia]

jumping

For your one-year anniversary, you get one free wish from Azul.

Azul Ashengrotto x Gender Neutral Reader NOTES: Mild Azul backstory spoilers (from vignettes and Chapters 3/4), nothing too revealing. Despite the tags, this is rated Teen and Up, I swear. Mentions of deep water, tentacles, and sinking. Nothing scary, however.

For your one-year anniversary, you had been briefed in advance about the possibility of getting one wish granted – free of charge, bounding contracts or compulsory compensations. Of course, the only condition was that it was agreed upon by both parties, and that it was made within the realm of possibilities: that meant no wishing for it to rain a million Thaumarks out of the sky – though, at this point, you weren’t quite sure of what wasn’t possible in the world of Twisted Wonderland. You had one thing in mind though, and were quick to jump at the opportunity.

When you had told Azul Ashengrotto your wish, he had immediately recognized it as doable and plausible. He –also immediately– had refused profusely, glasses fogged up in disdain, muttering something under his breath and visibly shaken. Seeing his reaction, you had desisted, but the frown on your brow just wouldn’t go away. Seeing your reaction, he had calmed himself down and dared to ask:

“Is that really something you want so badly?”

Yes – as badly as to go wasting my one free wish with Azul Ashengrotto to make it come true, you assured.

“Fine,” he had conceded, lips tightly under control and not smiling one bit. “But I shall pick the place.”

‘The place’ was a rocky, tiny, inhabited island above the Coral Sea that took a whole ordeal to get to, partly because Azul’s flying was sub-par at best – and he had to manage with you clinging for your life on proverbial ‘back seat’ of the broom. While technically an islet, it seemed more like a series of cliffs speckled with vegetation – waves bursting with high energy chipped away at the rocks, and you knew that if you happened to fall not even Azul could ever hope to retrieve you. However, a concave space between the cliffs created some sort of a bay towards the inside of the island, serving as a breakwater for the crashing waves. As you flied alongside its curve, the ocean got progressively calmer, until you both reached a crevice, an opening in the sediment walls. Within was a cave that was just barely underground enough to be shielded from the sun, but not so far away from the opening so as to be completely in the dark.

It was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Like a miniature amphitheater of limestone, the carved grotto had layers of rock slowly descending into a pool of blue waters, walls lined with moss and ceiling low, allowing you to sit upright, stretch your arms and be able to touch it. Azul steadied the broom before helping you down, and as the water rolled softly and calmly on the shallow stone steps, possibly moved by the ocean forces way down below, he instructs you to take a seat, and be careful. Dark turquoise in color, beyond the rocks it was unspeakably deep, and he wouldn’t want you falling in. The stone walls naturally merged into two steps: one above the water, and the other just barely covered by it but still close to the surface; so, you sat on the first one, with your feet towards the second.

“There’s an underwater tunnel that goes into the Coral Sea,” Azul says, his voice echoing throughout. The lack of available seating space in the rock formations meant he was flush beside you – not that after a year of dating you weren’t used to his presence, but it still made you feel some kind of way. “I used to come here to think.”

“It’s beautiful,” you gasp, wincing a bit at the cold water flooded your aquatic sandals. Azul had insisted you wear those, plus a short wetsuit, knee pads and shoulder pads. You wondered if all the equipment would not make you sink faster, but safety first, your boyfriend had said.

“Hmm,” Azul hums, deep in thought, before swiftly whiplashing back to his normal self. “Well, we’re not here to do sightseeing, are we.”

His slender, pale fingers fondled with the potion vial hanging from his neck: the answer to his rhetorical question.

“I’ll have to undress,” he adds. “Turn around, please.”

“After all this time?” you laugh dryly, but the mood was not light enough to joke, so you comply.

Even covering your eyes and twisting away from the merman and towards the cave walls, you can still feel Azul’s wetsuit sliding off his shoulder, the damp rubber grazing the side of your back; the clasp of the knee and shoulder pads coming off, his eyeglasses now resting on top of his discarded swimwear, and then a jump – a muted, soft splash.

“Tell me when,” you call, your breath revealing how nervous you were, shaking with expectation and excitement. You had imagined the transformation to make some sort of noise, yet it was unbearably still inside the grotto. The muffled sounds of the crashing waves outside, plus the soft trickle of a leak falling from the ceiling were the only things you could focus on. The stillness between you was so, that if it weren’t for your trust in Azul, you would have thought he ditched you inside the cave as some elaborate mean joke. Thankfully, he was nothing like his moray eel peers – at least not in this sense.

“Done?”

“Not yet,” he replies, hurriedly. “Sorry, Y/N. Give me some time.”

You twist your body to the direction where his voice is coming from, your own hands still veiling your eyes shut.

“It’s okay. As long as you need.”

A loud sigh followed. You felt a pair of hands now grasp at the lower step, where your feet rested, splatting water droplets as they tried to achieve balance. Azul steadied himself, bringing half his body up with the strength of his human shoulders, purposefully keeping the rest beneath the surface.

“Ready. You can open your eyes, now.”

A hauntingly shimmery shade of gray, the pale skin of his face almost seemed to match the color of his eyes – of course, you’d seen his eyes without glasses before, multiple times, but something about the way they reflected the scarce light was different now. Around his neck, and all the way through his arms and torso, the texture of said skin turned distinctly non-human; spotted, gleaming like a black opal, changing colors slowly from midnight blue to mossy brown to nightfall purple, mimicking the stone steps, in a way that would make him eerily disappear into the environment if it weren’t for his familiar face, looking straight at you. Something was swirling deep within the water, and you imagined that to be his tentacles; but as expected, he would not show them – not just yet. For your wish had been to see his true form, and you hadn’t specified if all or just half of it.

“Wow.”

“That’s it?”

You gulp before trying to articulate your thoughts again. “You’re so... beautiful.”

“That seems to be your catchphrase today,” Azul snaps back. You don’t blame him for being defensive – after all, you know he feels at his weakest right now, and this is something that not many humans have ever seen before: only a handful few academic personnel in both the Coral Sea human-training boot camp and in Night Raven College, and only for medical reasons that couldn’t be avoided.

“But you are”, you insist. Every human child has at some point dreamed of meeting merfolk, heavily influenced by bedtime stories, in which even the most fearsome sirens were mystical creatures with hauntingly loving voices and glittering scales of lavender. Maybe that is clouding your judgment, or maybe your love is – for this hardworking, albeit finnicky and distrusting boy who you were lucky enough to spend your happiest times with.

“Sweet-talking won’t get you anywhere,” Azul warns, as he is an expert on the subject. “But coming from you, I’ll take the compliment.”

He is about to suggest transforming back, but you spoke before he could.

“Can I touch you?”

“Uh...” Azul stutters, and he might have blushed if he had been in his human form, but as a deep-dwelling merman, the pigmentation of his cheeks only served for camouflage, and nothing more; its default setting being ash grey. “I doubt it’s anything special, but sure, go ahead.”

You descend to the final step of the stone stairs, before the blue abyss that Azul is floating in, so that water comes up to your hipbones – you don’t mind, as long as you can scooch on closer to him, caressing his shoulders and feeling the slimy, slippery texture of his pores. Every inch of his skin seems to have a mind of his own, contracting and expanding ever so slightly at your touch, changing colors as if involuntarily. To the side of his arms, a few small barnacles are growing – you remember he once told you they were like warts on humans, but because they all slept in seashell beds, every merfolk was bound to have a few here and there (and barnacles were a pain to remove successfully).

Azul waits in silence, a bit self-conscious, but still fixed on your face. He cannot believe you would honestly look at a creature like him in such adoration.

“Sorry. Are you feeling alright?” you ask, realizing that your natural curiosity might be making your boyfriend uncomfortable. Well, he was prepared for this much, at least.

“Yes,” he declares. “It’s not your fault. I just – I’d rather been born human, that’s all.”

There is nothing ‘that’s all’ about that statement – it’s a very deep and heavy thing to say, making your frown burrow in worry.

“Don’t make that face. I get to be human most of the time, after all. And on a government aid, no less,” he reassures. His stories about how we underwent human training to be able to walk, run, adjust to hotter temperatures and eat warm foods had always fascinated you.

“What was the thing you looked forward to the most?” you ask. “About turning human.”

Azul gives it a good thought. He’s starting to relax bit by bit, as his hue sets on purple, not trying to melt into the foliage anymore. You’re taken aback by the cold burn of his sudden touch, as his hands lazily graze your calves beneath the water. His tentacles are still nowhere to be seen, though. His temple rests on the kneepads he had insisted you wore, and though lightly, you can feel his lips hovering just below your knees.

He finally settles on his answer. “Jumping.”

“That’s... unexpected,” you blurt out honestly, because you can’t imagine how the same Azul who very profusely hates exercise could come up with that response.

“Hmm,” he hums once more, adjusting his weight up, arms crossed on top of your legs, his breath now so close to your thighs, you can actually feel it. He could very much switch to gill breathing at this point, but he’d rather make you feel his warmth. “Maybe saying I wanted to experience ‘gravity’ is more accurate.”

“I see. Did it hurt? U-uh, walking.”

“By the Sea Witch’s benevolence, when the mermaid princess of old finally turned human,” his voice turns darker, still embellished in his notorious sticky sweetness. For an otherwise introverted type, Azul is an amazing talker, and even better storyteller. “Some accounts say that walking felt like a thousand needles piercing her feet at every step.”

“Oh no,” you exclaim.

“An exaggeration, for sure. The only pains I ever felt were – what do you call them? Growing pains? In my kneecaps and elbows. Curious thing, indeed.”

You let out all the air you’d been holding in anticipation.

“You had me scared there for a second!” you scold him, and Azul smiles and shrugs. Absent-mindedly, you squeeze at the muscles tensing in his shoulders. “Ah, then I guess that means your human form matures with your age. That’s interesting.”

“Fortunately, our lifespans are pretty much the same.”

“It must have been so weird,” you continue, as intimate talks like these were rare, what with Azul always busying himself with his various, uh... businesses. “Growing bones and stuff, right? A–are you... you don’t have any now, do you?”

“My human half does,” he says, tilting his head so his eyes meet yours. “Oh, I know that look. You want to see the rest, don’t you?”

Foolish of you, thinking you could get past his wit. “Uh...”

“Not included in the bargain this time,” Azul says. “Though I might... comply, for a small fee.”

“–oof. Knowing you, no thanks. I’ll pass.”

“You wound me, Y/N. You’re not suggesting I’d ever demand collateral from you, are you?”

“As if you haven't before!” you exclaim, not that he needed any reminder of the Mostro Lounge anemone incident.

“Ah, ha, right,” he chuckles wryly.

Azul turns pensive again. He’s got both hands on your legs now, and you wonder if there is an unconscious longing for feeling his own now that he’s in his primordial, cephalopod form. Not speaking a word, he clicks your protective kneepads to remove them, lips ghosting from your thighs to your knees, making you squeak in surprise; he then rests his head in between, and you come to the realization he’s been trying to distract you from feeling the grasp of two tentacles on your ankles.

“Ah –”

“Don’t say it. I know. It’s disgusting.”

That’s a very far cry from your choice of words. It felt novel, and it tickled a bit, feeling the tiny suction cups nibble at your skin, but it wasn’t unpleasant at all.

“I like it. I like all of you.”

A pause. Biting your lip at your embarrassing confession, the cold humidity of the cave is starting to get to you, unwillingly giving you goosebumps.

“Can you show me?”

“No.”

“Aw. Well, okay.”

“Giving up so quickly, are you?”

“Azul!” you let out an exasperated sigh. “Which is it? Do you want to show me or don’t you?”

It feels like a rite of passage at this point. If he passed this opportunity to show all of himself to his lover, no such chance would come by twice. It has been a literal odyssey just getting to the cove, and to be precise – he did want to show you. He was just afraid.

“Your legs,” he says, lips pressed to them as he speaks, further sending shivers down your spine. “What marvelous things. The veins, the moles, the stretch marks,” his hands are human, but in this form, feel scaley and rough against your supple skin; his blackened nails growing out like claws, yet, by the boy’s own gentleness and self-control, managing to not scratch you. “Compared to this, I...”

I’m a monster, he wants to cry out, but he’s no longer into self-pity. And you know that’s not his final say in the matter, so you decide to wait.

They come crawling from the sides. Aside from the two tugging at your feet, two more envelop your waist – although the thick fabric of the wetsuit refrains you from feeling the raw touch, you can still feel the pressure from the suctioning, this time amply stronger. The closer they get to his lower body, the bigger the muscle membranes get, and thus their vacuum force much fiercer. He feels heavy enough, easily able to pull you down to the depths if he wanted to – in fact, you too have a potion hanging down your neck, which Azul had made and given to you personally, A water-breathing potion, in the very odd case you needed it, if his instincts gave in and lost control, or if a tide took you and you got separated. But he loves you too much to let such things happen, so it sits there unused, dangling idlily as you take the whole situation in, feeling your chest get tighter.

Azul reinforces his tentacle grip once more. With his human arms, he cradles your knees and nuzzles his head on your lap, closing his eyes. While your left is being used to stable yourself and sit upright, your free hand now moves to the back of his head, caressing his wet and curly hair gently. As his several arms embrace you, you are lost in thought. In a good way, his scent is like the sea. Not a summery day on the beach, but more like the skies before a storm – salty air, a sharp freshness rolling with the rainclouds. His choice of setting, this dark cave that would catch the remnants of sunshine in its underground pool, a lightshow of turquoise refracting off the surface; it was far away from his usual date spots, smart and cost effective, but it was him through-and-through.

“Well, what do you know,” Azul muses, and each word itches against your skin. “I’m weightless in the water, but my stomach feels like I just jumped from a trampoline and am free-falling into a bottomless pool.”

“That doesn’t sound too enjoyable.”

“No, don’t get me wrong. It is. I’m glad I got to show you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For granting my wish.”

“Aren’t I compassionate?” his modest laughter makes him softly sway in the water. While he had promised the whole ordeal to be free of charge, you were sure he’d find a way to get back at you later.

“By the way, Azul,” you call, suddenly remembering why you were there in the first place. “You still haven’t told me what your anniversary wish will be.”

“That’s strange,” the once-greedy boy says, lips still flushed against your legs, pressing one more kiss on each inner thigh. “I can’t seem to think of anything.”

"to kiss you"

A series of one-shots and drabbles featuring the Twisted Wonderland boys, kisses, and a specific body part.

Part 1: Azul Ashengrotto x Gender Neutral Reader, legs. [you're here]

Part 2: Malleus Draconia x Gender Neutral Reader, lips.

[gorgonarcher]

15th Game - Deviant: The Renegade

First, I shall get on with some ranting about the history of White Wolf and Onyx Path.

Deviant is a game within the Chronicles of Darkness setting which was originally referred to as World of Darkness and was intended to replace the original World of Darkness after that setting had it's apocalypse.

White Wolf came out with it before they were bought out and were far too aggressive about trying to get people to purchase this new game. Their methods extended to sending cease and desist letters to people running games on public internet forums or sites and renting out venues so that LARP groups lost their normal place to gather.

Meanwhile other workplace issues ended causing several veteran developers left the company and ended up forming Onyx Path Games.

At some point the decision was made to rebrand the new World of Darkness into the Chronicles of Darkness and to develop both lines, basically retconning the apocalypse of the original World of Darkness, or at least delaying it. The development of Chronicles of Darkness was outsourced to Onyx Path.

Also, Paradox Entertainment, better known for grand strategy video games like Crusader Kings, bought out White Wolf entirely.

I'm not sure of the exact sequencing of the Onyx Path exodus/formation, Chronicles of Darkness rebranding, Paradox Entertainment buyout, and Onyx Path outsourcing.

Regardless the end result (we wish) had Onyx Path writing Chronicles of Darkness which produced games like:

Vampire: The Requiem

Werewolf: The Forsaken

Mage: The Awakening

Promethean: The Created

Changeling: The Lost

Hunter: The Vigil

Geist: The Sin-Eaters

Mummy: The Curse

Demon: The Descent

Beast: The Primordial

Deviant: The Renegades

Onyx Path is a largely much better company than the current White Wolf is, even if it isn't free of its own scandals (look into Beast: The Primordial's issues if you want to be depressed). They've made some of my favorite games and we were expecting them to continue developing Onyx Path for the foreseeable future.

But nah.

White Wolf, or rather Paradox Entertainment, have decided that they are no longer interested in maintaining both lines. So, they've stopped outsourcing to Onyx Path and are basically burying the Chronicles line. And with the lead developers on White Wolf taking creative decisions that involve ignoring everything their cultural advisors pointed out and essentially betraying the flawed but generally progressive intentions of the original games, I'm not really interested in their products anymore.

Onyx Path is creating it's own urban fantasy/horror game called Curseborn. So, I have that to look forward to. But until then, I think I shall more the loss of Chronicles with a gorgon archer build using Chronicles game of dark superheroes: Deviant: The Renegades

The Game

Within Deviant, you play "The Broken" people whose souls have shattered leaving them as fragmented versions of their former selves. But in this fragmenting they have acquired some level of power. Each Deviant is different. Some acquired their powers as a result of the unethical experiments of evil scientists and corporations. Others came in contact with alien or paranatural substances that mutated them. Some few volunteered to be enhanced or even did it to themselves. And still others were born with the potential to spontaneously become fractured and inhumanly powerful later on.

The game focuses around the conflict between the Renegades and one or more Conspiracies that want to collect and control the Broken for their own purposes.

This game firmly exists within the Chronicles of Darkness setting alongside vampires, werewolves, mages and the rest. Population wise, all the supernaturals are generally more rare than in World of Darkness, and by and large even the largest conspiracies lack the omnipresent nature they do in the World of Darkness. Deviants are among the smaller population groups alongside Sin-Eaters, Mummies, Prometheans, and Demons. Like all the games, there is mention of the other groups here and there, but largely you're only going to be interacting with other Deviants, Conspiracies, and the occasional Deviant-adjacent horrors that come out of said Conspiracies.

Character Creation Steps

There are nine steps to character creation:

Step One: Determine Chronicle Threat Level

Step Two: Character Concept

Step Three: Select Attributes

Step Four: Select Skills

Step Five: Select Skill Specialties

Step Six: Divergence

Step Seven: Select Merits

Step Eight: Determine Advantages

Step Nine: Shape Cohort and Conspiracy

Step One: Determine Chronicle Threat Level

In this step we determine the power level of the campaign. This decision determines both the power of the characters and the power of the Conspiracy that they are working against.

In this case, we're going to go a bit in the middle and aim for a Dysplasia level campaign. This means that our gorgon archer here will have 7 total dots of powers on top of the one free dot every Broken gets. Standing 3 for a conspiracy implies "Regionally influential, or global but diffuse, or local but ubiquitous."

Step Two: Character Concept

Deviants are heavily focused on revenge, so whatever she places as her surface, there's a very angry core to our gorgon archer here. In thinking about her origin, I'm thinking she was an unwilling subject to an experiment trying to graft spiritual elements onto people. She's basically an early human trial for supersoldier project in the planning. Lucky her, she didn't end up dead.

I'm thinking she was not kidnapped and pulled into experimentation, but rather was invited to be a trial patient for an experimental medical treatment. I'm uncertain what exactly the treatment was for right now.

Step Three: Select Attributes

As with most Storyteller or Storypath games, there are three categories of attributes:

Mental: Intelligence, Wits, Resolve

Physical: Strength, Dexterity, Stamina

Social: Presence, Manipulation, Composure

We need to rank these into primary, secondary, and tertiary priorities. Each attribute gets one free dot and we get a number of other dots to assign based on our priorities.

Primary: 5 dots

Secondary: 4 dots

Tertiary: 3 dots

I'm going to assign the primary here to Mental, the secondary to Physical, and the tertiary to Social. The maximum any attribute can get here is 5.

My thought here is that she's reasonable intelligent and figured out what was going on with her before the conspiracy could figure out she was expressing mutations and vanished out from under their noses. I imagine the emotional consequences of her Divergence (the shattering of her soul) probably impacted her social abilities hard, but living off grid for a bit has improved her physical capability. That said, I'm going with the following:

Mental: Intelligence 2, Wits 3, Resolve 3

Physical: Strength: 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2

Social: Presence: 1, Manipulation 2, Composure 3

I suspect the sudden trust issues has made retiring and given her a difficulty with expressing herself, but she was able to keep calm and present a false front enough to avoid letting the people watching her know she was doing a vanishing act. Hence Presence taking the hit.

Similarly, I suspect she's built up her ability to get out of sight and be stealthy, along with the archery. Hence why Dexterity is high.

Step Four: Select Skills

Like with Attributes, Skills are also divided into Mental, Physical, and Social and we are again going to prioritize here giving the following number of dots. As a note, skills do not get free dots the way attributes do. However, Skills have the same maximum of 5 as compared to Attributes.

Primary: 11

Secondary: 7

Tertiary: 4

In this case, I think we're going to do a bit of a different priority with Social in primary, Mental in secondary, and Physical in tertiary. I'm thinking she wasn't in one of the careers that really leans into the Mental skills and her Physical skills are her newest acquisition. For actually spending them I think the following:

Social: Empathy 2, Expression 3, Persuasion 2, Streetwise 1, Subterfuge 3

Mental: Academics 3, Computer 2, Investigation 2

Physical: Athletics 2, Stealth 1, Survival 1

Step Five: Select Skill Specialities

Now we choose 3 specialties. A specialty is a short phrase or description for a particular area of expertise the character has. These cannot be attached to a Skill with 0 dots. But they basically act as a bonus die when the situation comes up. I'm going with the following:

Athletics: Archery

Streetwise: Urban

Subterfuge: Poker Face

These represent either how she was able to avoid her watchers realizing she'd noticed them, or else skills she's picked up since doing her vanishing act.

Step Six: Divergence

This is where the supernatural stuff starts. We are going to determine her powers and other such things here. To start with we need to choose her Origin and her Clade. The choice of Origin breaks down as follows:

Autourgics (The Elect) - Wanted to be Remade and sought it out. They may even have done it to themselves.

Epimorphs (The Volunteers) - Agreed to be Remade due to threats or promises.

Exomorphs (The Unwilling) - Never wanted to be Remade, it was forced on them.

Genotypal (The Born) - Ancestry or parentage meant being Remade was inevitable.

Pathological (The Accidents) - Pure unmitigated circumstance. Bitten by a radiaoactive spider.

With the description we came up with in the Concept step, we already know that she is an Exomorph since she was lied to and never realized she was part of such an experiment. Thus she is one of the Unwilling. This gets her an extra dot of Conviction (we'll get to that later) and one free dot of an "Overt Variation" (explained soon).

The Clade represents broad categorizations of what sort of changes came about when the character was Remade. These are mostly organized by the surface similarities they express:

Cephalists (Psychics) - Have ways to intrude into and influence the human mind.

Chimerics (Hybrids) - Are a mixture of human and something else. They often appear to have animal features.

Coavtives (Infused) - Harness and channel energies, either natural or occult. Firestarters and cosmic wielders.

Invasives (Cyborgs) - Have had some of their flesh replaced by technological or occult materials.

Mutants (Grotesques) - Have aberrant biology that doesn't easily map to existing animals.

In this case, both the Hybrid and the Grotesques stand out as potentials. Looking at the powers associated with each, I'm going to choose Hybrid, because the snake bit is the most obvious and I literally described her as being grafted some sort of spirit. We can still grab some powers from the other Clades but at least half of her powers need to be from Universal or Mutant powers.

The game calls the powers "Variations" as in the ways the character varies away from other people. Each Variation is entangled with a Scar save for the one free-point that we have. These are the cost, consequence, or side-effect of that particular power. In fact, the ratings of the associated scars can determine some of the power level of the Variations.

We can also choose to take on a "Form" if we want to. These are optional adjustments to the existing forms, which the game presents as they would otherwise be difficult to represent.

Amalgams are a combination of two or more distinct, sapient beings.

Self-Made inflicted their divergence on themselves instead of being victimized by a conspiracy.

Symbiotes have variations that are sapient, such as being infested with an intelligent parasite.

Transmissable deviants can spread their forms like disease.

I think I actually like the idea of a contagious gorgon, after all, transformation is a thing I quite enjoy playing with. Likewise, Symbiote and Amalgam both fit the concept of someone who had something grafted on to them. However, I don't like forced transformation and I'm also going to stay closer to the default here and not add a Form.

I am going to take the following:

Anomalous Biology ** (Mutant)

Carapace * (Universal)

Enhanced Speed * (Universal) - This is the free Overt point

Lash * (Universal)

Predator's Cunning *** (Chimeric)

For the details:

Her Anomalous Biology leaves her Ageless and Tireless. She does not fatigue or need to sleep and she does not age.

Her Carapace is a light scaling that is surprisingly resilient taking the Kevlar option and an armor rating of 1/3, the first number is General Armor which cancels 1 point of damage entirely starting with the most severe. The second number is Ballistic armor which downgrades lethal damage taken from firearms to only be bashing. Which means she's not as resistant to damage over all, but she does survive bullet injuries quite well.

The basic level of Enhanced Speed mostly adds Scar Power to Initiative rolls and doubles her speed when she moves under her own power. No choice here.

Lash is going to be her gaze here. I'm going to make it a Ranged cutting attack, meaning it does lethal damage, using Dexterity + Athletics as she tries to angle to get eye contact. I imagine the injury manifests as calcification. It will be Sickening so that it inflicts the "Sick" Tilt (see below). The Lash has to be activated, so she has to take an action in order to be able to use them. Maybe she has to take a moment to get in the proper headssspace.

Now we come to her Chimeric variation. For Predator's Cunning 3, she gets both the options available at Magnitude 1. This means that people looking for her suffer a penalty to notice her as she sees them first and she is able to activate a lash or ready a weapon as a reflexive action. Then she gets a choice of one from Magnitude 3 and I'm going to choose "Alert" which means that she benefits from the ability to ready a weapon even if ambushed and may elude notice even when she's not aware someone is trying to watch or follow her.

Now we have to choose scars. Multiple variations can be assigned to the same Scar but the reverse is not also true. You can't have the same variation attached to two different scars.

Each Scar can cover a number of Variations based on the highest magnitude involved.

There are three Scar traits: Scar Power, Scar Finesse, and Scar Resistance Each scar is associated with one of the three types of Attributes and these traits are determined by those attributes:

Mental: Intelligence = Scar Power, Wits = Scar Finesse, and Resolve = Scar Resistance

Physical: Strength = Scar Power, Dexterity = Scar Finesse, and Stamina = Scar Resistance

Social: Presence = Scar Power, Manipulation = Scar Finesse, and Composure = Scar Resistance

I am going with the following Scars and noting the entangled Variations

Conspicuous Appearance 2 - Lash, Carapace (Physical)

Bane (Mirrors) 2 - Anomalous Biology (Physical)

Lying Eyes 3 - Predator's Cunning (Social)

Carapace does not depend on Scar Power, Finesse, or Resistance so there's no change to its benefit.

Her Lash also does not have any of the traits that would be improved by Scar Power, Finesse, or Resistance, so it goes unchanged with a basic damage rating of 0.

Neither of her Anomalous Biology changes do anything regarding Scar Power, Finesse, or Resistance, and so go unchanged.

As to Enhanced Speed, I'm going to assign it as a Mental trait. This puts its Scar Power at 2, the amount of her Intelligence attribute. This determines the bonus it gives to Initiative.

Predator's Cunning depends on Social, so it's Scar Power is 1 (Presence 1), she gets half of that (rounded up) as a bonus to avoid surprise. IE: a bonus of 1 from the Elusive trait of the rank 1 level. Similarly she can use a reflexive action to get into cover which applies a penalty to ranged attacks of the same 1 (half 1 rounded up again).

It may just be in her best interest to work on her Presence... for multiple reasons.

So, what this means is that her snake hair and scales are obvious but can still be covered up. And she just gives people a bad vibe when they first meet her. First impressions tend to go badly. She also receives pain from looking in a mirror. I'm assuming this isn't just because she's freaked out to look at herself. I'm going to assume she can look at photos of herself fine and it doesn't look that bad, inhuman, but not really ugly. But mirrors create a sort of feedback loop with her gaze so she has to avoid them.

This also means all of her scars are leveraged at this point and she has no room to gain new powers. She'll have to either develop a new scar in play or focus on her natural abilities.

We're still not done with Divergence, as we have to assign her Acclimation, Conviction and Loyalty.

Each Broken has two conflicting urges: the burning desire to seek vengeance on those that wronged them or their loved ones vs the blindingly intense loyalty they feel to people. The trauma they've experienced, the shattering of their soul, has made less extreme human connections very difficult for them.

Each dot of Conviction and Loyalty comes with a Touchstone representing either a loved ally or hated enemy. At the start, the Remade (interchangable with Broken) have 3 dots of Conviction and 1 dot of Loyalty and they gain a free dot based on their origin. Exomorph, the Unwilling, get a bonus Conviction. So our gorgon here has:

Conviction 4

Loyalty 1

The Acclimation is the level to which the deviant has acclimated to their change. At base, a Deviant starts at an Acclimation of 0 but can spend 5 merit points to raise it to 1 or all 10 merit points to raise it to 2.

Acclimation 0

Step Seven: Select Merits

As already said, we could spend all 10 points of merits on raising Acclimation, but instead we're going to do some merits.

One thing I love to do with Chronicles games is to take on the Professional Training merit. Looking at her skills I'm thinking she's a writer of some sort. Perhaps used to earn her money doing gig-writing for websites, especially aiming at academic type websites.

There is no archery Fighting style, but I will adapt the Marksmanship merit to it for the first level.

I'm also taking Good Samaritan and Hypervigilance. I'm also taking one rank of Anonymity, Resources (perhaps she still does writing on blogs for some funds), and Parkour. Resulting in the following:

Professional Training 1 - 2 dots of Contacts in the field (blog writing)

Professional Training 2 - Two asset skills: Expression, Investigation. They get 9 again (9s and 10s explode)

Professional Training 3 - A third asset skill Investigation. And two specialties: Expression (Layspeak) and Investigation (Archival Research)

Good Samaritan 2 - gain a +2 bonus to Intimidation or Persuasion when warning Baselines away from the Conspiracy. Take a Beat when risking discovery to aid Baselines other than Loyalty Touchstones. Beats build up into Experience.

Hypervigilance 1 - 8-again to detect ambushes, traps, or snares (8s, 9s, and 10s explode), unfortunately, exceptional successes will give her the Spooked condition.

Marksmanship (Athletics/Archery version) 1 - Increases maximum bonus for aiming to Composure + Athletics (6) instead of 3.

Resources 1 - some minor disposable income

Parkour 1 - subtract Parkour rank from successes needed to escape, ignore Athletics penalties from environment equal to parkour

Anonymity 1 - Avoids official authoritative influence. Attempts to find her paper trail suffer a -1 penalty.

That's 10 points.

Step Eight: Determine Advantages

In prior Storyteller games "Advantages" usually referred to the splat unique stats like Conviction, Acclimation, Blood Pool, Rage, etc. In this case it's referring to figured stats.

Willpower: Resolve + Composure = 6

Health: Size (default 5 for humans) + Stamina = 7

Speed: (5 + Strength + Dexterity) x 2 (Enhanced Speed) = 20

Initiative: Dexterity + Composure + Enhanced Speed bonus = 8

Defense: The lower of Wits and Dexterity (both 3) + Athletics = 6

There is one unique stat to Deviants here: Stability, relating to how stable their mutations are. Deviants have to manage this because if they become unstable, they'll fall apart as their mutations kill them in whatever way is appropriate to how they were Broken in the first place.

We are also encouraged to pick an Aspiration here, which is a goal that we seek to accomplish such as "Escape a Pursuit". In this case, I want to more address the difficulty her appearance and aura give her in interacting with baselines (normal humans) so I want to give her the aspiration "have a peaceful conversation with a Baseline stranger".

Step Nine: Shape Cohort and Conspiracy

This is the point where you would talk about how you fit in with the other characters in the group. But also, this is where we set up the Conviction and Loyalty touchstones and discuss the nature of the conspiracy that ruined her.

While the GM creates the specifics of the Conspiracy for the players to investigate and uncover, I'm going to say that the Conspiracy in question here is a defense contractor researching the possibility of creating super-soldiers by the means of grafting supernatural traits onto normal humans. They are a local offshoot of another company with Regional Influence and use a local pharmaceutical lab as a front for collecting unwitting research subjects.

Touchstones

Conviction - Fallis Pharmaceutical Labs - the company her conspiracy worked through to change her. They had been a local company with a pretty good reputation. Our gorgon wouldn't have been surprised if they were doing something shady, but not eldritch super soldier experiments.

Conviction - The Grey Hats - she doesn't know their actual name, but calls them this based on the fact that the people watching her were all wearing some form of grey hat. She's still looking for a proper name for them. They don't always wear grey hats, of course, but she's found other ways to identify them

Conviction - Donner - she overheard this name after barely escaping pursuit and hiding barely ten feet away as they talked about her. He was leading her pursuit and referred to her as an object using pronouns like "it". She's seen him a few times since then.

Conviction - Macen - whoever was on the other end of the phone for that conversation, the person calling Donner's shots. She's actually had conversations with this person when they've hacked into television screens and CCTV cameras. The voice-changer prevented identification, but where Donner treats her as an object, Macen is all too happy to cause her, and other people, pain. They definitely see their victims as people and love to torture all the more.

Loyalty - Jin Klein - A colleague and former roommate, Jin eventually graduated into being a full on medical doctor. The only person our gorgon has revealed herself to when she needed help as the transformation initially took hold.

And I'm going to name our gorgon:

Devyn Vargas

Concept

Origin: Exomorph (The Unwiling)

Clade: Chimeric (Hybrid)

Advantages

Willpower: 6

Health: 7

Speed: 20

Initiative: 8

Defense: 6

Size 5

Stability: 5

Acclimation: 0

Conviction: 4

Loyalty: 1

Attributes

Mental: Intelligence: 2, Wits: 3, Resolve: 3

Physical: Strength: 2, Dexterity: 3, Stamina: 2

Social: Presence: 1, Manipulation: 2, Composure: 3

Skills

Social

Empathy 2

Expression 3 (Layspeak)

Persuasion 2

Streetwise 1

Subterfuge 3 (Poker Face)

Mental

Academics 3

Computer 2

Investigation 2 (Archival Research)

Physical

Athletics 2 (Archery)

Stealth 1

Survival 1 (Urban)

Variations and Scars

Conspicuous Appearance 2

Lash 1 (Ranged Cutting, Dex+Ath, Sickening) - Petrifying Gaze

Carapace 1 (Kevlar) - Scaled skin

Bane (Mirrors) 2

Anomalous Biology 2 (Ageless, Tireless)

Lying Eyes 3

Predator's Cunning 3 (Elusive, Vigilant, Alert, Scar Power: 1)

Free Variation: Enhanced Speed 1 (Double speed, Initiative Bonus, Scar Power 2)

Merits

Professional Training (Blog Writer) 3 - Asset Skills (9 again): Expression, Academics, Investigation, Bonus Specialties

Good Samaritan - +2 to Intimidate or Persuade Baselines away from Conspiracy. Gain a beat (XP) when you risk discovery to help a Baseline.

Hypervigilance - 8 again to detect ambushes, traps, and snares, Downside: Gain Spooked condition on exceptional success.

Marksmanship(Athletics) 1 - Maximum aim bonus is Dex+Ath(6).

Resources 1 - some minor disposable income

Parkour 1 - subtract Parkour rank from successes needed to escape, ignore Athletics penalties from environment equal to parkour

Anonymity 1 - Avoids official authoritative influence. Attempts to find her paper trail suffer a -1 penalty.

Touchstones

Conviction - Fallis Pharmaceutical Labs - the company her conspiracy worked through to change her. They had been a local company with a pretty good reputation. Our gorgon wouldn't have been surprised if they were doing something shady, but not eldritch super soldier experiments.

Conviction - The Grey Hats - she doesn't know their actual name, but calls them this based on the fact that the people watching her were all wearing some form of grey hat. She's still looking for a proper name for them. They don't always wear grey hats, of course, but she's found other ways to identify them

Conviction - Donner - she overheard this name after barely escaping pursuit and hiding barely ten feet away as they talked about her. He was leading her pursuit and referred to her as an object using pronouns like "it". She's seen him a few times since then.

Conviction - Macen - whoever was on the other end of the phone for that conversation, the person calling Donner's shots. She's actually had conversations with this person when they've hacked into television screens and CCTV cameras. The voice-changer prevented identification, but where Donner treats her as an object, Macen is all too happy to cause her, and other people, pain. They definitely see their victims as people and love to torture all the more.

Loyalty - Jin Klein - A colleague and former roommate, Jin eventually graduated into being a full on medical doctor. The only person our gorgon has revealed herself to when she needed help as the transformation initially took hold.

[missamyrisa2]

Dear Miss Amy, I may have admittedly made the mistake of falling down the rabbit hole that is your blog, that might be partly on me, but I would kindly like to ask you to cease and desist with all the mind-blowing teases and melty tickle hots thank you very much. It’s *incredibly* mean of you to write so well we can practically feel them you know? -- Sincerely, a Lee that should not be stuck this deep in Lee mood when I have to be up in 4 hours 🫶

Okayyyy first of alllll ~ I adoreee your name my sweeeet darling~<33

And how very fitting because I know you just couldn't help to tumble down to my silky purpley giggly menagerie, could youuu? That's the funnyyy thing ~ I don't self promote or really try to get my teases out there. I started this wholeeee operation just writing little ~tingly glittery~ scenarios to ensnare any ticklish minds who happen to wander in ~ ooooh and here you areee~

Maybe I should rename my little abode the Great Feathered Blush Magnet~

Wherever you are ~ whoever you are ~ you are drawn to be in the company of these lovely visions ~ the tickle hots, the folds in your mind alwayyyys working to keep your ticklish awareness pulsing. Which is to say you drift down as if attached to an invisible parasol, floating side to side into my world ~ wispy hands of my design reach out to graze your palms, drawing index fingers on each line and stroke each finger~ awww you resist but yet you spread out and let them tiiiickle in such silly places. Up your arms now, inner elbows to biceps grazed and tended to, such an adoooorable lil thing giggling and blushing as you float further and further to my domain~ ghostly hands trace up wiggling thumbs under each set of toessss~ tickle tickle cutie pieeee ~ are you getting blushyyy?

Good thing you're being deposited into my fluffy powder room~ and I'm just going to practice my blush brush craft on youuu~ let's make you into a masterpiece, shall we? And the thing is, I don't have to put any makeup on these brushes ~ you're going to pinken up from your tickles and be my little art project as I explore every little bit of your wiggly cute bodyyy~

and nooo~ we're not stopping the tickle teases and tickle hots ~ mmmh mmmh noooope ~ it's alllll teases all blushies all gigglegasps all the time here ~<3

[dearestdarlingmine]

just looking for a protector (god never reached out in time)

original character male/original character female setting: medieval rating: explicit words: 2174 warnings: father/daughter incest, fingering, dubious consent ao3

My heart hammered in my chest and I could hear the uneven sound of my breathing. I tried not to fidget with my hands, keeping them clasped tightly in front of me as I walked down the large hall. I did not look at any guards, I just stared straight ahead and tried not to jump at the sound of armour creaking as they watched me pass. I was sure they could read my thoughts, which only made the anxiety trickle further down my spine.

I paused outside the large door and waited for the knight to announce me before I was let in. My head was kept high and I was proud that my voice did not waver as I thanked the knight before he closed the door behind me. The room was warm in here, the hearth lit and many candles burning. I could see a bright moon in the sky through the window pane.

“My daughter, you should be abed.”

The low voice brought my attention back to the room and to the man who sat at a large desk. Despite the late hour my father was working—organising many important accounts and sending many letters, I assumed. The upcoming wedding on the morrow no doubt would have meant the rest of the realm was buzzing with news that the new king had taken a bride. Other noble houses were of course wanting to be on the king's good side and attendance was in abundance.

I would have been excited for a royal wedding if I had not been the bride.

“I cannot rest, Father,” I said.

The candlelight flickered over his handsome features, highlighting the golden tones still left in his greying hair and neatly trimmed beard. He stared at me, waiting for me to continue.

“I am nervous about my time with His Grace.”

I said this to his face before dropping my gaze to stare at my hands, I could see I had left red welts from where my nails had dug into the skin. I did not wish to look at my father and see his disappointment in my nervousness.

“He is unkind?” he said, moving from his desk to come stand next to me. I could smell the scent of sandalwood and ink that clung to him, it calmed me a moment as I sucked in a shaky breath. “Has His Grace said anything untoward?”

I shook my head. “No. But I have heard that to lie with a man is a difficult duty.” I hurriedly added, “And I shall do my duty, Father, I am just frightened.”

His large hands held mine, stilling my nervous movements, the warmth reassuring some of my apprehension. My father’s eyes were never kind, they were icy and held a shrewd intelligence that many men feared—even the king. But they regarded me with pride and an affection that I’m sure he did not grace anyone else with, not even my many elder brothers. It made me feel special and dear. “There is nothing to fear, my daughter,” he said, giving my hands one last gentle squeeze before removing them.

I had no desire to argue with him, I so rarely disagreed with my father as I knew that he was so often right. A lesson I had learnt as a child. My head told me to listen to his words but I could not, the gnawing pit in my stomach would not desist. “The queen,” I began, unsure of what to say or if I could even utter the words the King’s mother had spoken unto me. “She has warned me.”

The words lay trapped and unspoken in my throat as I felt my face burn with embarrassment. How could I repeat the words to him? I wished that he would look away from me but he did not, he kept his strangely cold eyes on me and so I stared at my hands in my lap and twisted them nervously. The Queen Dowager had told me of the pain of losing my maidenhead and the discomfort of the relations I would have with my soon to be husband. She had also told me that it was worth all the pain in the world to then have a child. I know that she was trying to reassure me but it had done nothing but made me feel worse. I did not want pain. Maybe I could have borne it if I had loved the King—I was somewhat fond of him, in the way that a girl is fond of a friend, but I did not love him.

My girlish fancies were only that—fancies. I knew my marriage was only to unite our noble families. I was the only daughter of the Lord High Chancellor of the Realm, it was expected of me to marry someone of great importance. It was something I had been taught to ready myself for my entire life. But being told on my eighteenth name day that I was to wed the newly crowned king had been a shock. A queen? I was no queen. I was nervous around many others, though I tried to quell these feelings. I felt there was no way to help it. I ruined the sleeves of my dresses when I twisted my anxious hands and I could not even recall the amount of times I had split my bottom lip from chewing on it.

I heard my father sigh, a sort of exasperated mocking sound that pulled me from my tangled thoughts.

“I would never speak ill of our dowager, my daughter, but her marriage was not a joyous one,” he said and his hand came to tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “The king is fond of you, you are much closer in your years than that of his father and mother.”

I tried to smile at him but it was a doubtful, unsure expression that flitted across my face.

“Do you not believe your father?” he questioned.

I hurried to assure him by shaking my head. “No, I do, Father. I have heard talk from others too…not just the queen.”

Servants whispered and gossiped. I listened to them talk even though I knew I should not have. And I had seen the animals out in the farmlands rutting into one another. Nothing could dissuade my apprehension. I needed the wedding to be a thing of the past.

“Come with me,” said my father, standing and walking toward the doors to his inner chambers.

I followed without question and when he gestured for me to sit on the bed, I did. The hearth was not lit in here and unlike his outer chambers it was cold. He came to stand in front of me and I stared at the soft rug on the floor, memorising the intricate pattern. His rooms were large and mostly dark, a stark difference to the airy and bright chambers of my own. But it was such a familiar space that it brought me comfort. I had disjointed memories of my mother here. Her passing had been such a long time ago that I did not know if my memories were real or simply dreams.

“Remove your gown,” he said. I glanced at him but stood and complied, slowly unclasping the gown and removing the heavy fabric to leave me in my small clothes. I shivered. “Good.”

He gestured for me to move up the bed so that I was sitting in the middle and I could not help but twist my hands in my lap. My nightdress was flimsy and I could feel the way my nipples strained underneath them. I yearned to hide myself but I knew not to. He was my father and had seen me naked when I was a babe, what did I need to hide? And I trusted his word, I knew he would help me and set my mind to rest.

My obedience clearly pleased him as I saw the slight smile that flitted around his lips as he came to sit beside me.

Father’s hand slid under my long chemise and glided up my legs until he reached bare flesh. I could not help but jump at the contact, even more so when his large hand cupped my sex. It felt strange. Both a comfort and an itch.

“He will touch you here,” he murmured, a strange timbre to his words. It made the pleasant itch where he held me grow. “You must let him, it will help.” His hand moved slowly, pressure increasing as his long fingers moved between the curls nestled there. His thumb grazed against something that had a moan escaping my lips, it was like a shocking bolt of pleasure through my entire body. I was unable to help the way I reached out for my father’s arm and held him, nails digging into the leather. He did it again and my hips bucked of their own accord. I needed the feeling to end and also never stop. Sweat was beginning to bead on my brow as he continued to move his thumb over that spot and I moaned again as a tightness built low within me.

“Father—”

“Good, sweetling,” he whispered, fingers moving away from that strange nub above my sex to gently probe at my maidenhead. I could feel a wetness there and it was making his fingers slide with ease. “You are doing so well.” I felt him slip a finger inside of me, only to his first knuckle, but it made my breath catch. He leant into me then, the roughness of his beard scratching against my cheek.

“Breathe,” he murmured, his voice so low now that I barely recognised it. It was entrancing, I had no choice but to obey and sucked in a deep breath as he pushed his finger into me further. My father kissed my cheek. “Well done, darling.”

My breathing was rapid and I was sweating in the coolness of his chambers. I felt like I was burning up—burning up from where he touched me. I glanced at his face and then my eyes dropped to his other hand, staring at his long and thick fingers and not believing that one was inside of me right now. It moved and my hips jerked. He kept moving it though, a slow but rhythmic thrusting that had me panting and gripping at him. I felt him slowly add another finger and my sex protested at the intrusion but I tried to breathe, letting the soothing sound of my father’s gentle assurance wash over me. After a moment, it did not discomfort me and I was meeting my hips to his slow thrusts.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his hot breath against my cheek before I felt his beard scratch my skin. His lips pressed against my cheek, lingering against my sweaty skin as I gripped at him desperately. “You’re doing so well, my darling.”

There was something within me. Some sort of strange tension that was so ready to snap. I could feel it building. When his thumb touched the nub again, circling it with deliberate strokes I felt everything collapse around me. My vision felt like it was full of stars and my body was floating amidst them as they collided and burst into each other. Words were tumbling out of my mouth, a garbled sound of prayers and breathy pants of “Father—Father—Father—!”

When I felt my body return to me, I felt as weak as a newborn lamb laying on my father’s bed with his hand stroking my forehead. He smiled at me—and what a smile it was! I could see the pride on his face and it buoyed me up, giving me strength to sit up on the sheets. My smallclothes clung to my sweat-dampened skin but I did not care. I felt light and at ease, my nerves gone.

“You did wonderfully, my daughter,” my father said. “This will help you during the bedding.”

“It will?” I asked, my voice still breathless.

He nodded as he stood, pushing his hair back from his face. There was no hair out of place and he smoothed down the front of his doublet with slow and careful movements before passing me my gown.

“Yes,” he replied as I pulled the gown on, so very aware of the wetness between my thighs. “It may hurt, daughter, but you will know what your body can do and you shall do your duty well.”

I nodded, sensing the finality in his tone. I knew he would not touch me again, not now. When I gave him a polite curtsy and left the room, I did not see him bring his fingers to his nose so that he could inhale the scent of my essence that coated them. Nor did I see the way his eyes shuttered in pleasure as his mouth greedily licked and sucked it all away.