#we all know what trans aether does to me so are we surprised i got carried away

[forlorn-crows]

for your consideration: transmasc Cirrus

i think these two shall combine nicely, @rrriver, dont you? been teasing @askingforthesun with this one for a few days now.

cirrus can be a boy, as a treat. and whats better than one transmasc ghoul? two transmasc ghouls.

2k of t4t aethe/cirrus goodness. author clearly has forgotten what ficlet means. but im combining two requests, so its fine, right? no one can complain to me about more smut.

clit/cunt/folds/cock/dick for both of the transmasc lads here. exactly what it says on the tin. enjoy xx

It’s a modest thing: plain red, slightly curved, average size and length. Cirrus rolls the weight of it around in his hand, back and forth, making the wide elastic straps rustle. The air ghoul is no stranger to strap-ons, this much is true; but this one is different, foreign by its very nature. A little something extra, Aether had promised. 

“Want me to show you?” he asks now. The quintessence ghoul slides his hand over Cirrus’, caressing along the back of it and along the shaft of the toy. Aether’s other hand comes up to grasp gently at the underside of his wrist, ultraviolet eyes soft yet dark. 

Cirrus nods, grin going lopsided as he bites his lip. “Yeah,” he breathes. 

Aether mirrors his grin. “Come on, then.” He tugs Cirrus down to the bed, letting him settle atop his lap. “Kiss me first, though, hm?”

He pulls him down into a languid kiss, blindly taking the strap from his hand and setting it aside for now. Cirrus melts easily into it, Aether’s warm arms wrapping around his waist and holding steady. The quintessence ghoul grinning against his mouth when Cirrus loops his own arms around his neck, fingers coming up to tangle in his hair. 

“Mm,” Aether hums appreciatively. “You know I like that.”

Cirrus rolls his hips, barely rubbing his folds over Aether’s fat little length. Earning a chuff when they each get a little friction. “You like that too?” he asks teasingly. 

Aether rumbles his assent and encourages the air ghoul to do it again. His breath hitches when he grinds more deliberately, the swollen ends of their clits nudging against one another. “Fuck, you know I do.”

“Can feel how hard you are,” Cirrus breathes. He tugs on the hairs at the back of his head, licking into his mouth when it drops open in a gasp. Relishing in the way Aether grips him tighter with strong hands, encouraging him to do as he pleases. 

“How can I not be, with—hah—such a handsome thing on my lap?”

“Wet, too?”

“Cir—”

Cirrus laughs and runs his hand down Aether’s chest. Tugging at those hairs there too before gliding further down, down, down. 

“Yeah, right there,” Aether breathes. Begs. He spreads his thighs underneath him, inviting his hand to dip between them and pet along his sex. Nimble pianist fingers swipe through slick and tug at his chubby clit as Cirrus leans in again for another messy kiss. 

“Oh fuck,” the quintessence ghoul groans. Cirrus’ agile tongue swipes along the back of his teeth with the same precision as he jerks his dick, so toe-clenchingly thorough that he gets lost in it easily and willingly. Cirrus can sense it, as he does with everything, smiling against Aether’s lips when he starts unconsciously bucking into his fingers. He withdraws them, dragging the wet digits through his happy trail and up to his chest. 

“Thought you were gonna show me something,” he says softly. Smooths his hands over Aether’s broad pecs and pulls back to find a very flushed and swollen-lipped ghoul gazing back. His responding smile is wide and goofy. He nods and gives the tops of Cirrus’ thighs a quick squeeze before grabbing the strap again. 

“Gotta put it on first.” Aether motions for Cirrus to stand, holding the gear by the hip straps so he can step in easily. He wriggles it up so it sits in its proper place, cinching the straps nice and snug. He pats his flank with a grin. “There’s a lad. Suits you nicely, I think.” 

The air ghoul hums and smooths his fingers around the o-ring, snuggling the back of the toy against his clit with a sigh. He gives the silicone a few strokes out of habit, brushing the short hair from his eyes as he watches Aether give him a long, approving look. It’s familiar—routine thus far. But there’s still that certain glint in his eyes that reminds Cirrus otherwise. He slips between Aether’s thighs and into his welcoming arms, letting his big hands roam over his ass, his back, his stomach. Solid, strong palms that never fail to light up his nerves wherever they go. 

“So,” Cirrus prompts, arching his back slightly and wiggling his hips to make the toy cock wag back and forth, “what’s the secret, starlight?”

Aether chuckles. “You’ll see. Close your eyes for me.”

Cirrus does as he’s told, taking a long, even breath. He can feel Aether’s smile even with his eyes closed. The quint ghoul puts one hand on his lower back and one, presumably, around the toy, judging by the slight shift in pressure on his clit. He bites back a gasp, stifles the urge to shift his feet; he feels like he isn’t supposed to move, lest he interrupt what Aether is doing. 

“Deep breath for me,” he breathes, splaying his fingers across the span of Cirrus’ lower back. As he breathes in, the familiar prickle of magick starts at the base of his spine and seeps into his pelvis, looping around his hips and warming him further between his thighs. Cirrus groans appreciatively at the sensation and feels himself get a little bit wetter. 

“That’s it,” Aether comments, rubbing his back and pulling at the harness some. “Just a little bit more.”

And all at once something clicks, like a part of him being reconnected. Aether makes a satisfied noise and pulls the hand on the strap away quickly, and the one on Cirrus’ back more slowly. He feels the magick settle and fade, that heat retreating back into his core.

“Can I open my eyes now?” Cirrus asks.

“Yeah. Try it out.” 

He blinks his eyes open and gives Aether a confused trill. “Like, you want me to—?” Cirrus moves to climb back on top of him, but the quint ghoul stops him with a hand to his chest. 

“No, no. Try it,” he says again with a coy look. His hand floats down Cirrus’ torso, grazing over his dark happy trail. “Just give it a little squeeze,” Aether breathes. His own fingers visibly itching to do just that. But he pulls away, watching the air ghoul eagerly. 

Cirrus gives him a suspicious yet amused look, rubbing back and forth over the harness straps. “Okay,” he lilts, lifting a hand and wiggling his fingers. He slowly wraps an elegant hand around the toy and squeezes lightly. 

And is wholly unprepared for the sensation that he’s met with—let alone the noise that comes out of his mouth. 

“F-fuck,” Cirrus hisses. His fingers spring away from the strap as if burned, shaking slightly as they stay hovering around the silicone. He felt it. Lucifer, he felt it. He felt the touch of his hand as if the toy cock were his own flesh, phantom nerves tingling and begging for more sensation. Hard and real in the palm of his hand. Just like that. Cirrus can’t resist touching again; just the pad of his finger this time, circling around the smooth head like he would do to his own. The groan he lets out is nothing short of indecent, and he has to grasp Aether’s shoulder to keep his knees from buckling.

“That feel good, Cir?” Aether asks huskily. He wraps his hand around his own, guiding it up and down the shaft. “Feels just right, doesn’t it?”

“Oh Belial, Aethe—” he cuts off with a groan when he makes him squeeze the base. “Fuck, ‘m so wet.”

“Yeah?” Aether reaches between his legs, and immediately the sound of his fingers running through his folds is wet, creamy. He groans along with Cirrus. “Gods, you are.” He coats the toy with the slick he’s gathered, and Cirrus thinks he might faint from the feeling. 

“Shit. Shit.” He can’t help when his hand speeds up, jerking the toy—himself—in earnest. He sinks lower onto his forearm, still resting on Aether’s shoulder, and presses his forehead to the bigger ghoul’s. Completely lost in it, breath fanning hot and heavy over the other’s face. 

He’s definitely not going to get even close to sticking it in. 

Aether hums and caresses his face sweetly. “That’s a good boy, so pretty like this,” he compliments. 

Cirrus lets out a pathetic uh huh and keeps stroking. It’s not coordinated in the slightest, but it feels good. Gliding over the full length, twisting his hand around, rubbing at the tip with just his palm, bucking his hips into his fist; every little movement goes straight to his core, and he fleetingly thinks he may be ruined for any sexual encounters after this. 

And it’s definitely some unholy miracle he’s not dripping onto the floor by now. 

Cirrus shakes his head against Aether’s as the heat starts to build, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open. “‘M gonna cum,” he half laughs, half wheezes. “Fuck, please—”

“It’s alright, go on and cum if you need to,” Aether tells him. “Just like that, come on.”

“Oh.” The air ghoul’s legs shake, and he throbs. His hand speeds up, focusing on the top half of the toy, yet pushing on it so the base of the strap presses right on his clit. The combination is what sends him over the edge, pleasure cresting and crashing so suddenly it nearly sends him to the ground in front of Aether’s feet when he cums. 

“I’ve got you,” he grunts, holding Cirrus up by the armpits as he bucks and groans. He may as well be shooting actual cum out of the thing, it feels that real—pleasure extending from his pelvis all the way through to the very tip, pulsing in time to the contractions of his cunt as if the two were truly connected. 

“Fuck, love, you must feel so good,” Aether says, equally proud and incredulous. Cirrus keens. He misses the hunger in his eyes, though, his own still shut tight as the spasms subside and he comes down from the toe-curling high. Cirrus is rarely one to feel uncomfortable in the vessel he was given, but Satanas, the induced feeling of having a cock to pull at is nothing short of euphoric. 

“Oh wow,” Cirrus finally gasps when he can breathe again. “Fuck, that was—” His legs finally buckle underneath him, but Aether’s got him, pulling him into his lap before he can hit the ground in a dizzy heap. 

“There we are, c’mere,” the quint ghoul soothes as Cirrus groans into his shoulder. “Feeling good?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, totally boneless. 

Aether hums. Tugs him minutely closer. “Loved watching you like that,” he breathes into his hairline. Carefully, he loosens the harness straps at Cirrus’ hips, slipping the elastic through the hardware so it separates and slides gently off his body. “Did so well.”

Cirrus makes a disappointed noise as he melts fully into Aether’s lap. “Didn’t get to use it, though,” he says quietly. 

“Hush,” the quint ghoul tuts. “Plenty more opportunity for that.” He rubs up and down his back, and pleasant goosebumps rise in the wake of his hands. Cirrus makes a sated mm-hmm in agreement, fully wrapping his limbs around Aether’s body and using his weight to make him fall back onto the mattress. 

“Argh,” Aether huffs as the air ghoul lands on top of him. He chuckles as Cirrus sprawls out, nuzzling into the curve of his neck. “What was that for?”

“Loved watching me like that, hm?” he mumbles. Despite the hazy cloud of pleasure that’s settled in his brain, his hands still find it within themselves to touch and squeeze down Aether’s torso. Cirrus places a sloppy kiss to the quintessence ghoul’s jawline and is rewarded with a soft, lovely sound. “How much?”

Aether lets out a shaky breath. “So much,” he breathes. Cirrus’ hands find their way to his hips and grab, fingers digging into the fat as he scoots further down. “Cir—”

The air ghoul shoves at him to move up the bed. Makes himself a home between his thick thighs. He shoves his arms under Aether’s legs and puts his face right above where that fat clit stands hard and needy between his folds. Aether groans. 

Cirrus smiles and whispers: “Lemme hear how much.”

[melleonis]

Wifelink but like a rococo steampunk version

Let’s get to it!

Chandra, Pyrogenius (art by Jason Rainville)

You’d think Chandra would be on this list more often - she shows up in a lot of sets, and I do like her - it’s just that most of her art involves her being very much On Fire, and my emotional response to that involves more adrenaline than arousal. I admit that there’s not always a clear distinction between “fuck yeah give em hell” and “hell yeah fuck me up” but she tends to stay in the former category. This, though...I dunno, it’s not even that she’s sexy - though she is - as much as it is that it’s just really nice to see her this happy. Is that too sentimental? Sorry, I’ll try to stay strictly carnal for the rest of this.

Anyway Kaladesh is Chandra’s home plane, and as you can see behind her there, it’s a fun place - super colorful, fanciful architecture, loads of airships. This is going to be a fun, colorful wifelink, and ain’t that just what I need right about now?

Deadeye Harpooner (art by Ryan Pancoast)

Look, I’m a simple woman. I like solidly-built girls with fuck-off huge harpoon guns. Can you even imagine how safe it’d feel to come home to her?

Dhund Operative (art by Magali Villeneuve)

I’m not sure relying on your good looks to distract your target long enough to assassinate them is a high-probability strat, but it would take me a good three seconds to tear my gaze away from this woman’s under-eye circles and perfect mouth, which would certainly give her long enough to slip one of her slender blades through my ribcage. I can think of worse ways to die.

Oviya Pashiri, Sage Lifecrafter (art by Magali Villeneuve)

Yes, yes, this is certainly a May-December hypothetical scenario. No one is surprised that I’m okay with that. Look at her kindly face! Look at the pretty construct she made! Look at the quote on her card: "Inspiration is reciprocal: we all have a responsibility to each other to create." That’s so fucking good, you guys. Also she’s canonically gay - a widow in whom the loss of her wife has only engendered compassion. It’s difficult to imagine being queer and growing old - difficult to imagine growing kinder under the weight of tragedy. It would be an unambiguous honor to be able to provide solace or pleasure to such a woman.

Right, sorry, trying to stay carnal here. I’ll do better.

Ovalchase Daredevil (art by Winona Nelson)

Well, now this is gonna make staying carnal reeeeal fuckin easy. Reddish-purple undercut? Those eyebrows? That mouth? Smudges of some kind of grease on her face? Taking her helmet off while walking away from the smoldering wreckage of her vehicle, presumably in slow motion? (And don’t miss that still-rolling rim in the bottom left there.) The quote on this card is "Let me guess. You thought I was dead." - which, like. Just fuckin slam me into a wall already, you perfect unkillable survivor.

Aether Poisoner (art by Yongjae Choi)

I really appreciate this woman’s under-eye circles and almost haggard features. You can tell she works late nights. Again, she’s not a young woman, and again I find I’m into that; she certainly hasn’t grown kind with age, however. Tired, yes, and cynical. Pragmatic, hard, and merciless - but not cruel. I can’t believe she’d use anything but the most painless poisons - a drop of some dark, sweet liquid in your coffee, and you slip into a gentle, hazy paralysis, the last thing you see her blue eyes, piercing and level.

Exquisite Archangel (art by Brad Rigney)

Extra arms. Wings. Fuck-off huge sword. Blindfold headgear, like Elesh Norn. Or Dark Sun Gwyndolin. Or the Maiden in Black. Or...huh, this is A Thing for me, isn’t it. That’s...probably worth investigating. Okay, yeah, next Wifelink Gaiden is gonna be about blindfolds and blindfold-equivalents.

Scrapper Champion (art by Magali Villeneuve, who is just knocking it out of the park this block)

Speaking of extra arms: this fuckin badass steampunk cyborg who is dual-wielding spears. I trust I don’t need to explain the appeal.

Quicksmith Spy (art by Ryan Alexander Lee)

A big pair of goggles on a woman will never not be attractive to me. This lady has taken that to its logical conclusion and constructed the Most Goggles, which definitely shouldn’t work but definitely does. Always love those errant strands of hair down over the eyes.

Maulfist Revolutionary (art by Scott Murphy)

That messy hair is such a delight, and so is her Giant Blade Gauntlet. With her clenched fist and determined gaze, one could almost believe in her ability to overthrow governments by punching them with a big sword.

Kari Zev, Skyship Raider (art by Brad Rigney)

Here she is: queen of the sky AND my heart. Pirates are hot, as previously discussed - skyships are dope - her cocky little head-tilt is extremely good - but let me show you something even better.

Kari Zev and Ragavan (art by Sarah Winters)

Okay so this is technically cheating because this is not actually card art. It’s official MtG art and was used in promotional materials and the like, but it does not appear on any actual card, to the best of my knowledge. But like, look: that smirk Does Things to me. Sure, you’ve got goggles and the hair and everything is very good but I am In Love with that smirk. That smirk is the entire reason I started doing this dumb project. That smirk says “I can go anywhere I want and do anything I want and no one can fucking touch me because I am a G-d Damn Airship Motherfucking Pirate, and I am totally, absolutely free.”

Rashmi, Eternities Crafter (art by Magali Villeneuve)

Um, hey, so look - I’m not actually going to talk about Rashmi here (sorry Magali, but you’ve had three other cards this block so I don’t feel too bad about it.) The thing is - I don’t know if you could tell - but I’m afraid. Like, I don’t actively seek out news anymore, because it’s always, always bad and nothing I read is ever surprising no matter how dire, so I’ve just stopped, but I’m online all the time anyway because it’s 2018 and sometimes I see things and like - I’m not a historian but I know enough history to know how this is all going to go, and my life expectancy is so fucking short right now. I mean, all of our actuarial tables kind of terminate in 2040 when climate change leads to global collapse, but I’m a trans woman and I am definitely going to be murdered in the next five years by either my own government or by someone emboldened and legitimized by my government.

Which is a shame, because - well, because a lot of things. For one thing, I know what I have to do with my life now, and it’s a big, terrifying thing but so worth doing, and that feeling of purpose is incredible - only it’s not going to matter because society is ending, and it’s not going to happen because I’ll have been murdered before I can finish it.

But also it’s a shame because of things like this stupid project, which I enjoy and would like to keep doing as long as they keep making Magic cards. Little things like this, and music, and D&D. Friendship, love, food, Shabbat services, hot showers, cold mornings. All the small experiences which accumulate somehow into A Person, which is something I would very much like to continue being forever, and I know forever is an unreasonable ask - but hell, I would have liked to make it to forty.

So, you know, I Wish Therefore That Candles May Be Brought - which is to say, I’m gonna keep living until that becomes impossible. I’m going to keep working on my Great Work, even though it won’t see completion. I’m going to keep doing this project, and all the other little things that have made my life enjoyable. I’m going to vote in November, even though I don’t believe that those currently in power will peacefully relinquish it no matter what the law says - and though I can’t imagine anyone reading this wouldn’t already be voting, please fucking do if you care about my life at all. And, I don’t know, take care of yourselves and each other. Maybe scroll up again and look at that picture of Kari Zev. It’s a really good picture. Her monkey has a little pair of goggles too.

[deepsea-guardian]

If Axel didn’t know exactly what he was about to do, he would have been able to call this a regular meeting. This was the first time he was supposed to run the meeting-- each of the Professors had made their way across to Sandgem Labs, their own apprentices in tow-- and after a few minutes (more like twenty, close to thirty) of catching up with everyone, the meeting was supposed to begin.

Emphasis remains on the “was”. There was one last thing that needed to be said before it could properly begin, in Axel’s head, but he couldn’t exactly skirt around beginning it, since he was sure none of the other Professors would be so happy that he was beating around the bush once again (as he so often did.)

Sycamore was friendlier today. For some reason, he seemed much nicer than he once had-- maybe it was to do with the fact Axel was a full-blown Professor now, or perhaps he’d put aside his strange grudge and long forgotten some of the pranks that Axel had pulled-- but Oak was still much the same. That was what worried him, as Professor Oak was technically employer to everyone else (he’d never favoured Axel, payed him a lot less, too.)

With a shaky voice, Axel tries to begin.

“It’s wonderful to see you all again after what seems like so many months, and I’m glad to announce that the New Year has been kind to me and my studies, and I hope it’s been the same to all of you. Since Rowan’s retirement, I’ve been working even harder than before, and I’m sure I’m going to see exactly how chaotic summer can be with the influx of new Trainers.” the small burst of confidence he had been riding on suddenly disappeared, and his voice fell to almost nothing. “However, before we begin properly, uh...”

He pauses. Unsure of himself, he naturally begins pacing about the meeting room, feeling his guts twist and his legs shake.

“There’s something I need to... inform you all of.”

That sentence alone causes a stir. Lucas turns to look at Gold-- while Gold looks between Sycamore and Juniper, who are both looking at Elm. As the silence draws on, Gold murmurs something.

“It isn’t Galactic again, is it?”

“No- no! Arceus above, no! I wouldn’t- it’s sort of-”

With that, the whole meeting devolves into chaos. Lucas asks if it’s Plasma, and Bianca replies that it can’t be, since she and Cheren have been looking out for that, and she, in turn, asks if it’s Rocket. Elm splutters out that Rocket haven’t attempted anything for years now, and most of their organisation dissolved. Sycamore offhand mentions that he hopes it isn’t Flare again, and Birch loudly proclaims that it can’t possibly be Magma or Aqua, since they’d changed their goals. Along with this, Kukui mentions that Skull stick to Alola, and that Aether aren’t ever likely to try anything near the scale of other organisations-

and Axel just yells. It’s almost a scream, as if begging for silence, and the room suddenly snaps into it, and not a word leaves anyone else’s mouth.

“It’s not to do with anything like that. No Plasma, no Rocket, no evil organisation. This is something that’s a lot more...”

Oh he’s about to hate the words that come out of his mouth.

“It’s about a lot more power than that.”

Yeah. He hates it.

The silence makes him want to vomit. Alas, he’s gotten himself into this already, there’s not really any backing out now, and his whole body shakes as if a cold wind had caught him off guard.

“I’m sure, by now, that quite a few of you, if not all, know that I’m trans. I know that Lucas knows that, and Gold, Elm, Juniper, Kukui, Birch somewhat. I’m sure you had your hunches, Sycamore.”

A curt nod, but nothing more than that. Oak tries to open his mouth to say something-- Axel quickly reacts in the hope he can stop the conversation from derailing.

“This might not come as a surprise to some. I know that Gold, Lucas, Bianca and Juniper are aware of this fact, however the rest of you, I’m unsure.” he pauses awkwardly, closing his eyes and thinking for just a few moments. “I used to be a Trainer, before working for Rowan. I haven’t been big on the fighting scene for almost ten years now, but my Pokemon have remained with me as my partners... which brings me to what might surprise the rest of you.”

Axel can almost hear eyebrows raise across the table. Lucas’ mouth is open in awe-- or is it surprise?-- and Gold shakes his head, as if to tell Axel this isn’t the smart thing to do...

“I’m a Legendary Trainer. I have been since I was very young.”

Before an outcry can come from any of them who didn’t know, Axel has to speak again.

“Just so none of you start theorising about which Legendary I’ve been holding onto for so long, I’ll tell you, plain and simple; I possess Lugia, the Guardian of the Seas.”

He can feel his heartbeat in his throat, his head light and his body shaking like a Bellossom in Snowpoint--

And he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, a forced laugh trying to come out. “Which... some of you might recognise, actually.”

His glance seems to linger on Kukui, and then it moves to Oak. Neither say anything.

“Which of course, means I’m... a former Champion. Johto Champion, to be exact.”

Oh, he really, really wants to vomit now. He swallows thickly, and his voice comes out shaky again.

“I’m... the one that disappeared about thirteen years ago, and I can tell you all just about how it happened, if my memory serves me correctly.”

Oak leans forward with an expression halfway between curiosity and confusion, but before he can say anything, Kukui speaks.

“Wait, you’re the kid I fought?” there’s only pause enough for Axel to nod slightly, before Kukui speaks loudly again. “Damn, cousin! I see how you disappeared so easy! You look nothin’close to what you did!”

He knows this already, but hearing it from somebody else really does solidify it in his head. All he really needed to do at the time was get out of the region and change his clothes and hair enough, and nobody would realize. At least he could say he was smart enough when he was younger to realize that.

With the pause, however, Oak speaks.

“I thought as much. Sycamore had his theories as well, and I’m sure if the two of you had continued to be hostile to each other, then no doubt he would have figured it out fully-- but this is enough.”

Axel’s ready to get defensive-- nobody can make him go back to it after thirteen years. He’s got a job he needs to tend to, and not even Oak’s going to--

“I can appreciate you telling us all this. I’m sure it’s weighed heavily on your conscious for that time, but I expect none of us to mention this to anyone else-- to protect Lugia, of course.”

Axel does quietly and rather offhandedly say that Lugia’s name is actually “Lianon.” but Oak doesn’t seem to hear.

“Now, shall we continue with the meeting? As Professor Vofornix said, I’m sure we must have a lot to report back after so long.”