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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 1 year

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Hello I love your writing and wanted to request some headcanons or a short fic. How do you think Apocalypse Yuu would fare on Beans Day? They would probably wipe out everyone though I see them more fit as part of the monster team than the farmers.

Bean Day Massacre

Jade and Yuu are partners in crime. This just me bullying Azul lmao. GN Farmer Yuu

No one stood a chance. What was supposed to be a wholesome sporty activity in the school became a massacre, with the objective of protection of the golden harp switching from stopping Yuu’s madness.

No one knew how powerful a magicless human could possibly be. Not even Azul planned for this as he runs away from Yuu, who merely walks after him, “We had a deal Azul!” They shouted amidst the forest, “You brought this on yourself!”

Azul could only think back to how this all started, as this apex predator of the land continued their slow walk after him…

It all started, just a few hours ago, actually. Azul was making his way over to where the scanner was, his years of planning were not going down the drain! As he approached the area where the supply box was located, he almost let his guard down. Almost.

Just then he heard it. Whimpering and a cry for help. Snapping his head around he searched for where the sound was. “Heeeelpp” the voice rasped again, and Azul realized, it was coming from above him. Azul looked up in absolute horror.

Students, both farmers and monsters were strung up in the forest by their feet using some sort of makeshift rope. They all dangle helplessly, some passed out, some still struggling to get free,

“Careful… this whole area… It's trapped!” One student wheezes. Azul looks behind him before taking a step back in fear, what sort of person would do this? Who would go out of their way to trap their own team? Azul shrunk into his camo as he briefly reconsidered the crate in front of him. But if he was right, it would have the scanner. The item he needed to enact his plan.

“Azul? Is that you?!” The familiar cry of Ace sounded out against the forest. Azul looked around before spotting Ace, dangling closer to the ground. “You gotta help me!” Azul hesitantly approached, starting to untie his teammate, it would be better to have a guide in this area of the forest he supposed. “Just what happened here Trappola?"

“It's Yuu!” Ace whisper-yelled, “They’ve gone crazy! This whole area around the crate the trapped! They’ve been stringing up everyone that goes near it!” “The crate! Where is it? Does it have the scanner?” There is where Azul made his first mistake.

“I don't know! Are you helping me or not?!” Ace yelled making all the groaning of the other students go silent in fear. “Oh no…” Ace muttered. “Oh no no no no no no! Azul you have to untie me! They’re coming!”

Ace held onto Azul's camo and shook him from where he hung. “Hurry they—- AAAAAH!” Suddenly, Ace was yanked up into the trees in a soundless blur, “RUN AZUUUL!” He shrieked. Azul didn't have to think twice. He immediately ran through the forest, Crate be damned.

As he ran he noticed all sorts of strange traps. Ropes, pitfalls, even noisemakers made from rope tied to pots and pans— where did they even get those from?! Azul was so focused on running he didn’t even think of the direction he was running in, before he knew it he stood before the crate he desperately looked for.

Standing in front of it he held his hand out to open it, before pausing. Yuu had this place heavily guarded, this is most likely a trap. He didn’t even know if the loot was still there. The scanner! What is Yuu had the—-

“Looking for this?” Yuu’s crazed voice rang out from above him. Looking up, Azul swallowed, sweat appearing on his face as he stared up at Yuu, fully decked out in camo head to toe, even their face was blending into the environment with the mud they caked on. It was difficult to see how they were even above them with how much they blended in, he could only assume they were on a branch of some sort, yet amidst the confusion, he saw it in their gloved hand: The scanner.

“How did you—-“ “Jade told me. He said you might be looking for this.” So Jade was behind this? Wait, did Yuu get him too? As if reading his mind Yuu responded “He was quiet, so I let him go… The others here not so much…” “What are you planning, Yuu? How are you going to win like this? You're not even getting the harp!”

Yuu suddenly slid down from a rope and hung upside down at perfect level with Azul’s face, the magic camo they wore adjusted accordingly. “This was never about the harp. I can care less about what team wins…” Yuu smirks, and Azul was getting ready for a fight as he reached over to his net—

“Keep it.” Yuu offered out the scanner to Azul suddenly, arm outstretched as they hung upside down. “Unlike you, I don't need it.” “Hah? And how I know this isn’t a trick.” “Because I want to make a deal with you.”

A deal? Was that what this was about? Did Jade set him up for this? “You do realize I cannot use my magic today, right?” “It doesn't involve magic, it's now one of YOUR deals, Azul…” He supposed he had no choice…

“I'm listening...” “Floyd Leech. Keep him away from me, and this scanner is yours.” “Is that it?” “Yes. He wants to fight me despite being on the same team, and I’d rather not deal with it…” Yuu huffed, as they started pulling themselves right side up on the rope they dangled from.

“That can certainly be arranged,” Azul smirks as he takes the scanner and puts it on, highlighting at least a hundred students, all stuck within Yuu’s traps. He swallowed at just how many there were around him. How did they have time to do any of this in just a few hours?

“Oh yeah, and I don't want to deal with Jack either when you inevitably team up with him to face Jade. He’s just annoying. Tried lecturing me on how all these traps are wrong. Anyways….” Yuu pulled themself back up “I permit you to exit this place without worrying about me or my traps. Pleasure doing business��”

And like that, Azul’s second mistake was made. Taking an impossible deal. He supposed this was vengeance for the deal he made with Yuu before, and belittling them, and bullying them, and okay maybe he deserved getting chased through a heavily trapped forest.

Even after capturing Floyd, the moray refused to leave until he found Yuu, meaning they eventually met up again.

Azul continued his pace as he heard Floyd struggle against his fight with Yuu, who inevitably overpowered him and threw Floyd in Azuls direction, making him slide across all the mud right in front of Azul.

What monster could overpower FLOYD of all people? Azul full-on sprinted, hoping to retreat and replan everything. He couldn't lose when he made it this far.

His scanner beeped, telling him of another person nearby. That is when he saw him: Jade watching, reveling in the chaos he sowed. The master planner that had him like this. It was ironic in a way, he wouldn’t usually mind that cruel smirk he wore, but now it was being used against him.

“Why? Why did you do this?” Just then Azul tripped over another rope Yuu had put up making him fall onto his face. Groaning as he looked up at Jade who stood over him he could only blink. “Why? To win of course...” Sacrificing his own brother and his own friend… to win…

“That.. and you and Floyd insulted my mushroom dishes that I worked so hard on…” Jade spoke in mock sadness. “That’s what this was about?!” Azul shrieked out. Just then he felt a pair of hands grab his leg, along with Yuu’s evil chuckle.

“No no! Hold on we can make another deal!” Azul sputtered as Yuu dragged him away. “I am going to string this one up now. It was a pleasure doing business… Jade…” Jade and Yuu exchanged their sadistic smirks as they both parted ways.

This year the farmers won.

#caditinaestussidereum #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #beanfest #apocolypse yuu #jade leech x reader #jade leech #azul ashengrotto

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 8 months

Text

Between the Shadow and the Soul║ ⒸⓄⓁⓁⒺⒸⓉⒾⓄⓃⓈ

| Between the Shadow and the Soul | part of the A Savage Place collection ║ series masterlist ║ main masterlist ║

| PAIRING(s): sub!Joel Miller x dom!fem!OC | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 6.4k | CONTENT: exploration of power dynamics, submissive and domination practices, dirty talk, rewards and punishments, pegging (YAY!), some degradation type kink stuff idk, one moment of mommy kink I guess, Joel loves to throw himself a pity party & dom!fem!OC has no interest in letting that fester

| SYNOPSIS: Pegging, but make it therapeutic. And maybe a little romantic?

“It’s right back here,” Chris calls over his shoulder to you. He waves his arm in a wide arc without glancing back, motioning you to the storage area of his shop.

You follow with barely contained excitement at what awaits.

“Here’s the loot,” he chortles. He reveals the items in question with an abrupt yank on a heavy blanket shrouding it. He gestures broadly at several dingy looking boxes that were hidden beneath.

You peer into the closest one that’s open and can’t help but gasp at the glorious sight before you: a variety of sex toys and intimacy products still in their original packaging. No sun bleaching. No molding. No wear and tear. Almost perfect condition.

“How?!” you practically shriek. “In the back stockroom of some toy shop. Shopping center next to a mall,” Chris readily explains with a shared enthusiasm. “Must’ve been in the middle of unpacking a new shipment or something because most of it was in the box still, like you see it here.”

“But they’re in such good condition!” you marvel.

“Yeah, the stuff closer to the front that wasn’t picked over already was damaged by sunlight or whatever else, but this treasure trove right here was tucked away near the back. Still got some sun and air, but not enough to damage them. I told Alex I officially believe in miracles now,” he snorts.

“Yeah, no kidding!” you laugh with effusive mirth. “I can’t believe this. Seriously. You know how long I’ve been looking for this kind of stuff?!”

“Probably about as long as I have,” he titters gleefully.

“Hey, you have the real thing at home, and I know Alex is hung like a horse based on how he carries himself,” you point out with feigned indignation.

“Yeah yeah, but it’s still fun to have toys!” he retorts with a wistful edge to his voice.

You couldn’t argue with him on that account. You thank the heavens above that Chris and Alex have a soft spot for you after you helped them link up. Alex routinely oversaw more of the specialized patrol missions, and you’d known it in your bones the moment you met Chris that the two of them would hit it off. When you and Alex set out on a 3 day scouting trip all those moons ago, you’d convinced him by the end of it to strike up a conversation with Chris just to “see where things went.” Of course they didn’t even make it through their first outing to get drinks together before they were infatuated with one another.

“And the real thing I have at home was just about as excited as you and me are,” he adds. “Has his eye on a few things, but don’t worry, though. I already old him it was only right that you get first pick.”

You waste no time rummaging through the goods. You snatch up several items you know will serve you well. When your hand hesitates over the packaging of a strap-on harness, Chris lifts a curious brow. You grin and roll your eyes at his silent probing.

“Dare I ask who the special lady is?” he questions in a sing-song voice.

When you purse your lips into a poorly contained smirk, his eyebrows lift into his hairline. “Oh, a special man?”

He eyes the strap harness before looking back at you with a wicked grin. “Okay, I’m not gonna ask about it today, but you WILL be spilling all the details at some point.”

You giggle and agree you’ll eventually share some of the particulars about your “mystery man.” After going through each and every box, you set out with a hefty bag of goods, satisfied with your haul and all the possibilities it facilitated. You could hardly wait to get into all of it and surprise Joel with a few things. You thankfully didn’t have to wait long for an opportunity as it was only a few days later that he was able to meet up at your house.

It had been almost two weeks since you’d been able to spend time together outside of patrols. His mood had shifted into something closer to his previously staunch antagonism, and you weren’t sure if he was dealing with something privately or if he was just sulking over your stringent expectations of his behavior when you were apart. If it was the latter, not being allowed to get yourself off for a little while certainly didn’t warrant such a surly disposition.

Something felt off, though. It wasn’t just the bitter, grouchy temperament that you’d come to know and dismantle over the months you’d been seeing each other. No, there was something else bubbling under the surface. Something more than sexual frustration, although you’re sure that didn’t help.

His sullen knock at the door was the first reminder of the semi-detached doldrum he’d taken to lately. You beckoned him inside and gave several languid kisses along the column of his neck the moment the door closed. Instead of meeting your physical advances, his hands gently wrapped around the span of your back and cupped you closer to him. When he released a ragged sigh, you knew it was going to be one of those times where he needed a little extra tenderness.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Joel drawls in a lazy hum.

“Hey, baby. What’s going on?” You push a few of the graying, curly strands from his forehead, taking the occasion to search his face for any indication of what had him so squarely in the clutches of unrest.

“Just havin’ a time right now with Ellie, is all,” he mumbles after a moment. His eyes focus on your shoulder and collarbones - anywhere but meeting your gaze - but there was a faraway look in them.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask carefully. The topic of Ellie always had the potential to be a sensitive one for Joel, and you had your suspicions for the past couple of weeks that there was some sort of unresolved issue between the two of them.

Joel shook his head gently. “Nah. Not ready.”

You nod and immediately back off the topic. Joel needed a safe place to run to, and you didn’t want to be another thing he was running from.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can take care of you today, okay? How does that sound?” you offer in a sultry, low voice.

“Sounds perfect, honey,” he agrees, his shoulders slumping at the pacifying reassurance you always provided.

You help him out of his jacket and boots before guiding him to the bathroom. You turn the shower on and strip him down while it warms up. The growing heat of the water begins to plume into a fog of cloudy steam inside the bathroom.

“Go on and sit,” you shoo him into the shower. You strip yourself and join him. Even with his large frame and broad shoulders, Joel looks so small in this moment, sitting wide legged on the built in shower bench with his head leaning against the wall behind him. You can see just how tired he looks when you’re eye to eye like this.

He appraises your naked body with a wanton, gluttonous fixation. His cock twitches in response to the gains yielded by his unabashed ogling. His hand edges towards where he’s already half-hard, but he doesn’t touch himself yet. Not without your permission.

You take your time angling the showerhead so the outpour of water cascades over his crown and downward between the stretch of sore muscles of his shoulder blades and back. His eyes close with a satisfied groan at the feeling of the heat over his tired, aching body.

You divert some of the water with your hands to douse his upper body. You grab the shampoo off to the side and spurt a small puddle of the rosemary and lavender scented liquid into the cup of your palm.

“You been a good boy?” you gently ease into some teasing. You rub the shampoo between your hands.

“Haven’t got off in over a fuckin’ week, if that’s what you’re askin’,” he snips impatiently.

You balk at his impolite tone. “Well don’t ruin all that now with such a bad attitude,” you chide.

He sighs and drops his shoulders. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking away and grasping his hands together in his lap before looking back up at you with a chastised, contrite expression. He extends a tentative reach and curves his hands around your waist in a meek bid for forgiveness.

“I’ll accept your apology, but don’t test my patience,” you warn.

You lather up the shampoo in his hair and work it over in kneading circles. His brows knit together. His eyes peacefully drift shut. You scratch at the base of his scalp, just where he likes. He lets out a low groan of relief.

“I know you’ve been having a hard time lately, Joel. That’s what I’m here for. I’m here to take care of you, give you what you need. So are you going to be a nice boy for mommy today and let me give you what you need?”

His eyes remain closed as you rinse the suds from his hair.

“Yes, ma’am,” he promises.

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet boy.”

You work up a soapy foam and wash him top to bottom. His cock is soft again by the time you make it down his legs, but there’ll be time for that later. Right now you need to get Joel into a clearer headspace, one with a less turbulent response pattern. You take extra care to wash his feet, knowing he doesn’t ever take the time to really look after them as well as he should. He moans at the kneading motions you rub along the arch of his feet.

“God that feel so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs.

You spend a few extra minutes massaging his knees, never able to forget the day that raider had knocked him down and added even more strain to his already bad joints. When you finally finish working over his muscles and washing him up, you direct the water back and forth to rinse any remaining residue.

Once the final specs of soap have been cleared away with the rush of hot water, you massage his temples and jaw where he endlessly overtaxed the muscles with incessant clenching and grinding - a longstanding bad habit that had made a return as of late.

He sighs and leans into your palliative hold, letting the hot water wash over his back. His arms circle your middle and hug you closer to him. Sometimes it was sloppy messes, wet kisses, and blood surging between thighs from the moment he came through your door. Other times, like today, it was something more intimate, a give and take.

He’d nestle himself right into the crag of reprieve and sanctuary you’d cleft into for him. You let him stay there for as long as he wanted, whenever he wanted. It felt good to be needed. It felt gratifying and substantial to guide something broken through the thick of it all and into someplace less fraught with the realities of life. You, too, could escape there right alongside him, swept up in the creation and execution of taking someone into yourself to safeguard and mold into a dulcified, amenable thing.

You cut the water off and wrap a soft towel around Joel’s shoulders. You help him towel dry his hair and upper body before exiting the shower and hug a towel over yourself. Joel drapes another clean towel around his waist and heads for the bedroom. You smile to yourself at the familiar routine that’s already been established between the two of you. As expected, he’s lying over the towels, spread across your bed, as he waits for you to join him.

You grab a clean, oversized t-shirt and pull it on to stave off the chill in the air. You grab the container of lotion from your dresser and head for the bed. Joel watches you with a soft fondness as you climb onto it and straddle him. You take a dab of lotion and rub it into his cheeks and nose.

“Still don’t see why I gotta get this stuff every time I shower over here,” he objects gruffly.

“Because you don’t ever lotion, Joel. Seriously, the only time you ever take care of your skin is when somebody else is forcing you to,” you huff in a laugh. “You’re sexy and all that, but nobody can pull off lizard skin. Not even you.”

He belly laughs at that and runs his palms over your bare thighs as you sit atop him. It’s nice to hear him laugh. You feel proud that you’ve already gotten him this relaxed.

“Besides, I know it feels good to finally get some moisture on this goddamn sandpaper you call skin. It just about drinks up every drop of lotion I’ve got every time I do this,” you point out.

“Mmmm, yeah. Does feel nice,” he admits with a sheepish, lazy grin.

You smile back at him and shake your head. “Silly boy. Already told you that’s what I’m here to do. To make you feel good if you’ve behaved yourself.”

“And, uh… today, do I…” he trails off.

You realize he thinks showering and some light pampering is all he’s getting rewarded with today.

“I mean, I just… you know, after a whole week - OVER a week, actually - of not havin’ any ‘stress relief’, especially when I really coulda used some,” he emphasizes.

“You’re the one that canceled last week,” you remind him pointedly.

“I know, I know. Didn’t want to. Somethin’ with Ellie came up, and … anyway, I didn’t cancel because I wanted to. God knows I’ve been goin’ outta my fuckin’ mind tryna follow your fuckin’ rules,” he gripes.

“Joel Miller, are you pouting because you couldn’t jerk yourself off for a few days?” you taunt.

Joel huffs loudly but doesn’t respond further.

“I asked you a question,” you caution.

He breathes out a weighted puff of air and nervously readjusts his body. “Look, it’s not- I’m not pouting. I just.. I missed bein’ with you, I guess. Needed you, like this,” he admits quietly.

You heave a half-exasperated sigh. It was hard to stay annoyed with him when he got like this. He sometimes put forth a weak effort to regain some of the control in your dynamic, but you could understood how hard it was for someone like Joel to give up control in the first place. If it wasn’t working for him anymore, you might’ve relented, but deep down you both knew he needed the reinforcement and structure you gave him. What you had worked for both of you, even if Joel sometimes tried to self-sabotage.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you yield. You rub lotion into the rest of his body and watch the rise and fall of his chest start to slow. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joel shifts again under your touch.

“I guess I just–I dunno. I didn’t know what to expect comin’ over today. Never canceled on you before. Didn’t know if it was gonna be some punishment or somethin’ for it. Didn’t know if I’d done good enough to get rewarded,” he explains stiffly, nervously.

“You know if you follow my rules and obey me, you get rewarded. Why would that change?” you contend.

“I dunno,” he blows out in an exaggerated exhale, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I just feel like I don’t know much of anythin’ anymore.”

Before Joel could slump any further into his own pity party, you decide to give him the swift kick to the ass you had to dole out every now and then to get him back on track. You lift away from straddling him and place both knees on one side next to his hip. You lean forward, one arm firmly planted beside his head.

“Well then let’s clear it up, Joel,” you hiss. His eyes light up excitedly at your change in tone.

“This–” you grit out, roughly grabbing his soft dick “–belongs to me.”

You slowly stroke him a few times, enjoying the way blood starts rushing to his cock and hardening under your touch. All too avid and supplicant at your directive.

“And you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about what happens to it because that’s for me to decide. Are we clear?” you press.

He lets out a choked moan and nods.

“SAY IT.”

“It’s all yours, sweetheart,” he grinds out with effort.

“What’s mine, Joel?” you push.

“My dick. It’s yours. All yours,” he grits out when your strokes get firmer and faster. Beads of precome start to trickle freely from his swollen tip.

“Mmmmm, that’s right. Glad we could clear that up,” you chuckle humorlessly. Your hand drops lower beneath his balls, garnering a hitched breath and exhilarated stare from Joel.

“And this little hole is mine, too,” you murmur. You swirl the pad of your middle finger over his asshole and smile when you feel it pucker inward.

Joel swallows harshly and nods in agreement. “S’yours, baby.”

You hum with delight and agreement. “Good boy.”

Joel’s cock jumps at the simple plaudit, and you’re relieved that he’s finally veering away from feeling sorry for himself. “I just love when you obey me, Joel. It means I get to take such good care of you. Give you just what you need.”

You slide off the bed and saunter lazily to your closet where all your new goodies are tucked away. You bring out the opaque plastic container you’d housed them all in after sterilizing and cleaning everything.

“What’s all that?” Joel asks, almost breathless with anticipation.

“Just a few things I picked up,” you respond coyly. “Couldn’t pass them up once I realized I could find new ways to use you.”

Joel emits a needy groan at the possessive and maddeningly vague language around what was going to happen to him at your hand today.

“I’m going to sort through a few things here, and when I turn back around you’d better be on your belly with some pillows beneath you. I want your ass UP and waiting for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel agrees in a rush. You smile to yourself when you hear his hurried repositioning. You take your time pushing things around the container, tacking a few moments onto the process just to draw out the intoxicating thrill of anticipation.

When you turn and see him splayed out for you just as you commanded, you have to stop yourself from reaching between your legs.

“You’re such a good listener when you’re weak, honey,” you needle. “Haven’t gotten off in over a week, right? So fucking pussy drunk you’ll do whatever I say, just so you can come, huh? Pretty fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” Joel hisses under his breath. His cock is rock hard and pressing straight down between his thighs against the pillow. He grinds it pitifully against the pillows propping him up, searching for any sort of relief.

“I’m goin’ outta my fuckin’ mind,” he grates through his teeth. He really does sound pained.

“If you don’t stop complaining, I will find something to shut you up,” you warn him flatly.

“Just fuckin’ need you, baby, please,” he grumbles with a touch more humility.

“Where do you need me, Joel?” you tease.

“Anywhere,” he groans desperately.

You crouch down behind him and run an admiring pass of your hands over his backside. You spread them apart and shoot a hot ball of spit onto the opening in between. Joel jumps and moans at the sensation, and you give him no time to process it further before sliding the flat of your tongue against the glistening wet you spit onto him.

He bucks his hips into the pillows beneath him and lets out a loud, strained moan. He already sounds completely wrecked. You lap gently, delving your tongue inside of his opening every few passes, and settle into a slow rhythm until he relaxes beneath you. You only break away to grab at Joel’s mouth and command for him to spit into your hand. He gives you everything he can gather and makes a mess of your palm. You work the slippery wet over your fingers until they’re coated.

You gently cup and massage his balls while you advance your index finger inch by delicate inch into his taut ring of muscle. You laugh quietly under your breath as you watch your digit get practically swallowed into him without any effort from you.

“Such a needy little hole,” you mock. “Didn’t realize it craved my attention this bad.”

Joel groans and shifts his hips higher for easier access.

“Talk to me, baby. I wanna know how it feels.”

“Mmm, s’g-good. Like it. You make me feel–hnn–so good,” he answers in a stilted gasp.

When you pull out just enough for your fingertip to be all that’s still inside him, Joel’s hips cant backwards towards you, chasing the fill of you. He mumbles something quietly that you don’t catch.

“Speak up,” you reprimand, laying a harsh swat to the flesh of his backside. He jerks forward and moans before repeating himself.

“Fuck – just, maybe could you … just – more?” he asks in a hushed tone.

You exhale a laugh through your nose and spit on your index and middle fingers before gliding them inside. Joel tenses slightly at the added girth, and you rub encouraging circles against the back of his thigh with your free hand.

“You look so good opening up for me like this, baby,” you coo. “I wish you could see yourself spreading around my fingers. So fucking tight, but you’re taking them so well.”

“How can I–” he grunts, cutting himself off as he tries to relax into the intrusion.

“Just breathe through it and know it makes me happy when you take my fingers like this. So proud of you when you open up for me like this.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually Joel is taking the gentle push and pull of two fingers without any resistance. He’d only ever taken one before today, and you needed to get him more worked up if you wanted to do what you had in mind.

“God that feels fuckin’ weird but so damn good at the same time,” he huffs.

You can’t help but smile at the hint of confusion in his voice, the mystery of the pleasure his own body holds. The pillow beneath him is smeared with dribbles of precome, and you need to back off for a moment before he comes everywhere. He makes a noise of dissent when you slide your fingers all the way out.

“As much as I love that needy little hole of yours, mine comes first,” you remind him. You wipe your hands and between his thighs with one of the towels from the shower and make your way over to the box of goodies. Joel turns on his side to watch what you have planned for him. You take out the mid sized dildo to gauge his reaction, which turns out to be an almost comical look of panic.

“Don’t get too excited, baby boy. You haven’t earned this one yet,” you tut.

You pull out a bottle of lube that was revived once a little water was added to it and squirt a small amount onto the tip. It wasn’t as big as Joel - and therefore wouldn’t be as satisfying - but it would do for now in taking care of the throbbing feeling between your legs as well as getting Joel even more worked up and accepting of anything you gave him.

You pull your shirt up and over your head, tossing it carelessly on the floor, as you head over to the bed once more. You kick the pillows to the side and lay on your back beside Joel. He eagerly scoots closer to you and runs his hands up and down the expanse of your body.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful. So fuckin' perfect,” he breathes.

You’ll never get over the earnest admiration in his voice when he compliments you during these quiet, shared moments. The gratitude and reverence in the lilt of his extolling makes your chest feel warm and light.

“Can I help you feel good, too?” he pleads with big eyes.

“Only because you’ve been so good for me.”

He breathes a smile and watches as you slowly insert the toy into your aching core. You sigh at the small but welcomed stretch, working it in and out with a steady rhythm. Joel’s mouth is on your hardened nipples, your neck, your earlobes, your ribcage, your clit. Anywhere and everywhere he can worship you with his mouth. It isn’t long before you’re clenching repeatedly onto the toy. Joel releases the suction of his mouth against your clit to watch the spasm of your muscles.

“God, I could watch that all fuckin’ day,” he muses, staring intently at your pussy as your orgasm starts to ebb away.

You pull the toy out and let him admire the glistening mixture of lube and your slick. You sit up slowly, with Joel mimicking the movement, and offer it to him. “Clean it.”

He quirks an eyebrow and reaches for it, presumably to take it to the bathroom to rinse it off. You grin at his misunderstanding. “With your mouth.”

Joel’s eyes narrow at you for a moment. “You really want me gaggin’ on that stupid thing and pukin’ all over your bed?” he scoffs.

“Never said that, but if that’s what I wanted then that’s exactly what you’d be doing,” you snip sternly.

Joel’s brow pinches together in a fluid movement before returning to something more neutral. He remains silent, but you notice the way his breath has picked up with the lift and sink of his chest. It was no secret to you that Joel got off on the idea of you commanding every idea, movement, and action of his, yet somehow he still managed to be surprised sometimes by his eagerness to be dominated and subjugated by someone he trusted and knew would never actively seek to harm him.

“On your knees,” you bite. He groans but positions himself as you instructed. You stand on the bed in front of him and hold the toy between your legs, right at his eye level. “Open your mouth and lick this cock clean.”

Joel considers the toy for a moment, a flush of heat gracing his cheeks, before looking back up at you.

“Tongue out, baby boy. Don’t get shy on me now,” you taunt.

He closes his eyes and sticks a sliver of tongue out. He starts grazing a small area near the base but doesn’t seem all that enthusiastic about it.

“You keep your eyes open and on me when you’re licking my cock clean,” you snap with a forceful grab to his hair.

Joel growls at the sudden pull on his scalp but keeps his eyes opened and trained on you.

“Stick it out, wide and flat,” you instruct. Joel complies, jutting his tongue all the way out and wide open for you. “Good boy.” You thrust the toy slowly against the flat of his tongue with a rolling motion of your hips as you use his mouth to clean it. You grow impatient with the task before it’s even halfway cleaned.

“That’s good enough. I’m ready to take that little hole of yours again,” you drawl.

You ignore Joel’s excited breathing as you exchange the toy for the smaller, curved one you made sure wouldn’t be too small to fit the strap harness. It wasn’t what you wanted to see shoving in and out of Joel’s asshole, but you had to start somewhere.

“On your belly, just like before,” you call over your shoulder.

You hear the rustling of Joel positioning himself, eager to please and eager to see what you’re gifting him with next. In the months you’d been exploring this dynamic together, you’d found that Joel liked a constant barrage of unknowns you’d throw at him, only to safely guide him to the other side of it where he’d be trying to catch his breath after being catapulted into yet another overwhelming, blissful climax. There was a thrill to it now for him, one that he hadn’t embraced at first. You can only hope he doesn’t fight you too hard on this one.

You quickly fasten the harness around your waist and legs and attach the small, curved dildo to it. You grab the bottle of lube to take with you back to bed. You spread Joel apart and dribble a cold stream of it onto him, letting it slither down to his hole that’s begging to be filled with you. Your index and middle fingers slide in without resistance. He was so worked up from everything that he was just about ready to take what you had for him.

“Roll over.”

Joel obeys, and you watch with stifled delight as he takes in your get up. His eyes snap up to yours with uncertainty.

“Knees up.”

Joel slowly draws his heels onto the edge of the bed and removes one of the pillows underneath his hips. When you stroke some lube up and down the small toy, something seems to snap in him. He huffs a sigh and drops an arm over his face.

“Joel, you need to use your words if this is something you don’t want,” you assert slowly and firmly. “You know how this works by now. You can’t expect me to know every little thought you have. If you want this to stop, it stops, but you have to tell me.”

“I know that. It’s not that. I trust you, I do–” he sighs, lifting his arm from his face and resting it above his head, “–I’ve just never done this shit before, alright? I’m tryna enjoy it, but that’s kinda hard to do when I’m wonderin’ if I’m gonna be shittin’ weird for the next week or somethin’.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You wanted to tell him you’ve taken much bigger without any life-altering results, but you know it would only get the conversation incredibly off course.

“Have I ever hurt you, Joel?” you level at him.

He lets out a deep breath after a moment. “No.”

“Do you think I’d take advantage of this thing we’ve got?”

He shakes his head thoughtfully. “No.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re not referring to me correctly because I know you’re distracted, okay? But you need to trust me if this is going to work. So, you need to decide if you trust me to make you feel good and to take care of you how you need.”

Joel locks eyes with you and nods. “Okay. I trust you.”

“Good. Now put your fucking knees up and say thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” Joel obliges.

You grab the base of the toy and guide the tip of it right to his rim. You slowly push inside, studying Joel’s face for any sign of pain.

“You’re opening up so good for me,” you praise as your gaze settles onto the toy already halfway inside.

“PLEASE CAN I FUCKIN’ TOUCH MY DICK,” Joel chokes out in a gasp.

“Go ahead, baby,” you answer calmly.

Joel grabs his rigid length and strokes himself vigorously. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you push the toy inside him all the way to the hilt. When you draw back out, a broken moan catches in his throat. You watch the pace of his hand up and down his length and mimic the same rhythm. It’s not long before he realizes you’re matching his movements, and his brow tightens and releases with the realization and acceptance of this novel pleasure.

“There you go. Just how you like it,” you coax softly. You smile as his eagerness intensifies. You love to watch him catch onto things, make these small discoveries about himself. This is a bigger leap than you’ve taken before - and maybe he still needs to be in control somewhat - but that spark of hunger you’ve ignited in him will only grow. You know one day soon he’ll be begging for you to fill him up with the biggest toy you’ve got while he’s on all fours.

You lean down for a moment to give him a slow, gentle kiss. You pull back slightly, rubbing your nose against his for a moment.

“Joel, what happens here - between us - it’s safe. So you can say what you’re dying to say. I see it all over your face how much you want to.”

You pull up and resume the steady thrusting motion from before. Joel’s hands grip the sheets in hard fists by his sides.

“You can say it, Joel. Tell me how much you love getting your tight, needy hole fucked by my cock,” you urge.

“Hrrmmpphh-fuck!–yesss–hnnffff,” he pants. Sweat is gathering in glimmering beads along his hairline and forehead.

“You’ve got such a greedy little hole for me to fuck, don’t you?”

“Gahh–AGH—YES,” he croaks. He’s starting to writhe underneath you. You wrap your hands over his hip bones and thrust harder.

“You know I wanna hear you say it, baby.”

“I–GOD, fuck yes–please,” Joel pants. “I fuckin’ have a — god dammit, such a - have such a greedy little hole I want you to fuck.”

“Yeah, you do, huh?” you chuckle. “I love watching how well you take it. You take my cock so well, Joel. You were just made for me to use.”

“Feels so fuckin’ good, honey,” he moans as you pick up the pace.

The muscles in his stomach begin to tense up, and you watch as it dawns on Joel that he’s coming. His mouth stretches open to a silent scream as his hands fly over top of yours, squeezing and grabbing for something to keep hold of him.

“Oh, fuck yeah. There we go,” you laud as you watch heavy beads of semi-clear white spend dribble from his angry, red tip.

You fuck him through it, tilting his hips up when they drop so you can keep nudging against his prostate. When you pull out of him, he’s still coming down from what you can only assume is his first prostate orgasm. Just in case he could ever forget how good you make him feel, you want to add on one final novelty.

“Hands and knees,” you instruct coolly.

“I-I can’t,” Joel exhales heavily.

“Hands and knees or it’s two weeks without coming.”

As expected, Joel complies to avoid the punishment. You squirt more lube onto the toy and settle on your back beneath him, once again moving the pillows out of the way with a quick kick. Before you can give him his next instruction, Joel’s mouth is on yours with a heavy, impassioned kiss.

He groans into your mouth, sucking and licking into it as if the oxygen from your lungs is all the air that he has in order to breathe. The intensity and undeniable intimacy of it catches you off guard, and you quickly fall into the movements of his tongue against yours.

Joel pulls away, breathing fast and heavy, with a look of complete deference. “Tell me what you want me to do, baby. Anything. Anything for you. Just tell me, and I’ll do it.”

“Sit on my cock,” you pant, out of breath from the kiss.

Joel clumsily lines himself up with the toy and sinks onto it with a heavy groan.

“Fuck yourself with my cock, and you can come all over these pretty tits,” you goad.

Joel starts jerking himself and grabbing at your breasts. You caress and stroke his balls. He awkwardly rolls his hips until he finds something that works for him, settling on a slow, deep grind. His face quickly contorts to one of imminent release.

“Such a good fucking boy for me today, Joel. So good for me. You wanna come all over my tits, baby? Make me all messy with your come? Give me something to taste?” you ask in a sickly sweet voice.

“FUCK, yeah–yes, baby, fuck yeah I do, so fuckin’ bad,” he rasps.

You take a free hand to pinch one of his nipples, and he jerks forward with a moan. You watch the small space where he lifts himself from the toy as he grinds against it.

“Keep going. Taking my cock so good. You look so perfect spreading open for me like that,” you spur him on.

You keep a steady, massaging motion on his balls as you open your mouth wide for him. You make a playful, teasing moaning noise beneath him, wordlessly begging for him to come all over you.

Joel’s hips stutter with a hitched whimper as hot white ropes start to erupt all over your chest and face. He falters forward, catching himself with his free hand against the mattress at the last moment.

“FUCK! Got my fuckin’–christ almi–FUCK,” he groans as the last bit of his spend lands with a soft splat onto your belly.

He lifts himself off the toy and slumps into a heap halfway over your body. He doesn’t seem to notice or care about the feeling of his come spreading against his skin where his weight bears into you. He slowly catches his breath and opens his eyes to meet yours. You wait, watching him with a satisfied smile. His face is relaxed and open. The grooves and lines of stress and upset are no longer as prominent as they’d been when he first arrived.

He drags a thumb through a half-crusted glob of his spend drying against your cheek and brings it to your lips. You open your mouth and suck on it. He scrapes and feeds you the rest of his release from your neck and face. You smile contentedly at the look of sleepy wonder he has for you.

“Don’t know what I did before you,” he muses in a soft hush.

You lean in with a gentle kiss, letting him taste himself on your tongue for a moment, and pull back. “You know we have to get a shower again, right?”

He shuts his eyes and grumbles. “You’re gonna make me use lotion again, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” you laugh as you pull him into a tight embrace.

This is not the last of Joel getting pegged, so please don't fret. Just wanted to explore the *~first time~* for him. Please trust I have every intention of this man getting his cheeks clapped hahaha.

Title is from Pablo Neruda:

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

tagging if you requested pegging or if I feel that you are spiritually aligned with Joel Miller getting pegged:

@beelzebeth87 @lvl-2005 @wannab-urs @for-a-longlongtime @toxicanonymity @walkintotheriveranddisappear @munchieforpedropascal @danaispunk @cinnamonpolvera @jupiter-soups @roguedjarin @rav3n-pascal22 @someotherasshole @forestfaeriequeen @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @atticrissfinch

#fic: a savage place #sub!joel #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #tlou fic

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seat-safety-switch · 10 months

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Everyone knows me at the dump. I don’t mean this in a bragging sort of way. In fact, I hate this fact. The reason why everyone knows me at the dump is that Mr. Jones, the dump operator, has posted the CCTV footage and blurry cell-phone camera pictures of my face on the break room wall. Even the youngest probie at the dump will look at me, every morning, while they wait for the coffee machine to dispense their mandatory cup of black joy.

You can probably guess why this has happened to me. I love junk, and the dump has a lot of that junk. To me, it is offensive that the dump hoards that junk. They keep it from me, using excuses like “sanitation” and “safety,” but safety is my middle name. If they would just give me a chance, then I would be the best they’ve ever seen. I’d even remove and sort the little lithium-ion vape batteries that haven’t exploded yet, out of gratitude.

Of course, we both know why I’m digging through trash at the dump. I don’t want old Betamax VCRs, or mouldy cardboard boxes heralding products from a bygone era. Well, I do, but I don’t want them more than I want a two-stroke dirt bike, and I’ve seen tons of those over the years get callously tossed into the debris pile by the great unwashed. They’re always getting thrown out for little reasons, like “carb jet plugged,” or “caught on fire,” or “couldn’t get anyone to buy it on Craigslist for septuple the market value so I threw it away out of spite.” I could save these bikes, and to be not allowed to save them is literal torture.

Just like anyone else would in my shoes, I started wearing elaborate disguises to the dump. Sometimes I could loot one, and throw it into the back of my car, and be gone before the dump operators (there weren’t even security guards yet, back then) could catch up to me. I had enough disguises – and enough cars – that I could pull this off for a little while. Then, used cars got really expensive, and the folks in my neighbourhood started using security fasteners to hold on their license plates. I started to escape by tighter and tighter scrapes, until one fateful day.

That bastard Jones figured me out. He came from Chicago, of all places, a city which I’m pretty sure doesn’t even have a dump. And he knew my kind. He set a trap: an agonizingly pristine, 1989 Yamaha XT225. Sure, it was a four-stroke, but it was still love at first sight. It was planted right on top of one of the big piles of disposable diapers, visible even from the highway. Even knowing it was a trap, I made plans for months to grab it.

The joke’s on him, though. I’ve started my own private dump, and I’ve paid the government to start outsourcing dump operations to me. We’re an extremely efficient operation, much more affordable for the taxpayer than the wasteful public dump. How so, you ask? Well, we are much more selective with what waste we accept, and we wrote one helluva contract, which had a bunch of big words that confused the gin-addled politicos that signed it out of desperation to meet their “lower taxes” pledge.

Here’s how it works. We charge the city hundreds of thousands of dollars a month, and we get first pick of any internal combustion engines that are in the back of the garbage trucks. Everything else goes down the road to the regular dump. We’re making a fortune. If we keep putting out numbers like this, I’m sure there will soon be layoffs over at Jones’ shithole. Hell, maybe I’ll even hire him to manage security around these parts. Can’t have anyone walking off with my good trash.

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theminecraftbee · 4 months

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OMG i got a better pc recently and i JUST realized i can play vault hunters now!!! :000 any advice for absolute newbies? (kinda scared of it)

YAY! you’ll enjoy it I have trouble playing normal minecraft now that I know there’s a Minecraft I can be playing that has Goals and Objectives and also Storage Systems.

and then yes I absolutely have newbie advice! don’t take any of this as gospel I’m hardly a top player these are just things I find handy:

make sure you’ve allocated at least 8 GB to the game before playing to save yourself some headache. 6 GB can work if you’re pushing it, but not much less.

vault hunters discord can be a useful place to join to find various advice and also things like community documents on everything in the game as you need.

you don’t need better armor than iron; since all vanilla armor was nerfed, diamond armor has the same protective strength as iron armor, just with more durability. save your diamonds for other crafts, like a vault enchanter, a diamond pickaxe, and the altar itself!

you do not need a librarian setup because the vault enchanter exists, but you will need some kind of emerald income. I normally use a classic sticks to fletcher in the early game, but more efficient trading halls aren’t terrible to have (farmers, for example, are also good). you can pick up a villager from the overworld as an item with shift+right click, just don’t do that with a villager that currently has a workstation, because that can cause pretty bad lag!

animal jars and animal pens exist! use them! an animal jar works by shift+right click while holding the jar on adult animals. place a jar with at least two animals into an animal pen to be able to breed them; hit shift to see how many animals is in the pen and the cooldown. you can use a bucket to get eggs from a chicken pen or a turtle pen. you can shear a sheep pen to get all the wool from the sheep, a bee pen to get honeycomb. to kill animals in a pen and get drops from them, just kill them with your sword. later, using some combination of modular routers and bee pens is helpful for automation.

JEI is your friend, but doesn’t show you a few vault hunters recipes (namely, any tool station or vault forge recipes). you can view those recipes in their respective workbench. however, JEI does have lists of what loot is found in each vault chest. that’s handy for pouch filtering!

a pouch with a pickup upgrade is your friend; multiple pouches is even more your friend. the sooner you can graduate to using a magnet to pick up items into pouches without using your shulker boxes, the faster you’ll get at running vaults, I promise! so as expensive as pouches seem early on, it’s really, really worth it to start using them. the filter is also handy to prevent picking up junk items.

similarly, breaking chests with vault tools will seem slow to you at first; it’s not it’s faster than manually grabbing the items from chests. you will get a quest about making vault tools, and a chest breaker should be one of your first tools when you do!

anything you find inside a chest in the vault you should keep; any vanilla items you find you should keep. however, any modded item that isn’t inside a chest in the vault can’t be an altar item, so if you’re short on storage space, you can throw those out.

early skill points should include at least one in heal and at least one in vein miner. strength is very good early game, especially all the way up to strength four. speed is really good but expensive so save getting speed until you’re ready. you only need two levels in un-specialized stonefall to negate fall damage altogether when you use the skill, which, if you’re like me and can’t mlg, is a lifesaver. I also recommend early points in dash and javelin. don’t be precious with skill points, though, they’re easy to change later! also unless you take the intelligence talent, early game you’ll NORMALLY have better strength than you do ability power for the skills that require AP. however, you can re-spec this easily later.

expertises, however, CANNOT easily be reset—you’ll get a free neuralyzer (check spelling haha) at level 50, but beyond that you need an omega pog, which is… expensive to say the least. so you SHOULD maybe be precious with these! experienced is the only one I’d say is definitively BAD. personally I recommend maxing out fortune and bounty hunter with your first 25 levels, but not everyone likes having the double bounties so that’s a “I prefer it” thing. late game, infuser and mystic are really good, but early game you won’t use those. angel is SUPER FUN and always really convenient to have but angel blocks aren’t cheap, so I never unlock it until I actually have the materials to make an angel block. jeweler is definitely actually good but I kind of hate perfecting jewels so I don’t take it, but most people who like maxing out tools do want that one.

I had a whole post about knowledge unlocks but basically, do the ones you want most as you need them, but drawers, the vault compass, double pouches, or stack upgrades are normally my first choices.

level matters more for gear than rarity, especially early game when you level through new tiers of gear quickly. if you get new gear with better implicit stats in a new, higher-level tier, replace your old gear, even if your new gear is common and your old gear was omega. later game is when having higher rarity gear will actually start to matter.

unless you’re very good at the game don’t try to be iskall, use a chestplate, not an elytra, in the vault. so you know, you don’t die.

keep up with the quest book! it’s handy like that! you can go back and read old quests too!

don’t be afraid to change your difficulty settings to whatever you have the most fun with—I basically always play in vaultMode casual and I like it that way!

watching other vault hunters like the hermits can help a lot!

and most of all: HAVE FUN!!!

#answered #judas-iscaryot #vh talk

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

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DM Tip: Better Random Encounters

One of the most important steps I made in my journey to becoming a good dungeonmaster was realizing that quite a lot of the system I was learning and the popular advice surrounding it was absolute garbage. 5 to 8 encounters per adventuring day? Encumbrance? Many of these things were holdovers from the days when the game consisted solely of dungeon crawling until level 10, and had no bearing on the character centric narrative adventure game I was wanting to play.

Random encounters were one of those holdovers: an expectation that every dungeon, wilderness location, and even city should have it’s own list ( level appropriate or not) of various challenges and random sights that the party should roll for by day or hour as long as they were playing the game. Specifically, they’re a holdover from a time when random encounters were the main way that players would find these sights and challenges, as much of the gameplay was otherwise about exploring a large ( and mostly empty) map of a dungeon or landscape. This is where the idea about 5-8 encounters per day really comes from.

The real problem is that encounters these days are quite a lot of work, both in that the DM has to put a lot of energy into making each encounter entertaining/challenging AND that any potential combat or RP is going to eat up a lot of table time. The workload for DMs is compounded by the fact that if the party isn’t having frequent random encounters in the same area, a good portion of their prep work is wasted, which begs the question of why do random encounters at all and not just concentrate all their efforts on one or two really good encounters? This is the route I’ve seen most groups take , leaving random encounters as obligatory filler, if they use it at all.

But what if you still like the idea of random encounters? Well below the cut I’m going to show you not only how to design encounters that take advantage of an element of randomness while still keeping that focused feel, and over here I’ll talk about how to design adventures that embody that element of discovery random encounters were supposed to facilitate in the first place.

The Jack-in-the-Box Encounter: Imagine that your party has crept into the lair of some terrifying monster in pursuit of their current goal, perhaps they’re looting a ruin, or recovering a mcguffin, or rescuing an abducted npc. They know that if they stay too long, the monster will discover them and they’ll have to face down a foe that far exceeds their current strength so they need to be smart, cautious, and fast, despite seldom being any one of these things. Allow them to explore the lair freely but every time they make noise or take a lot of time doing something, you throw a d6 into a cup or small bowl in a way that -plinks- ominously. Six dice in the bowl? Roll them, and if the number 6 comes up, the beast has arrived and the heroes have a hell of a fight on their hands.

This method of encounterbuilding allows you to have a threat looming over the party’s heads, acting like a clock that ticks forward whenever they move. The best part is that it’s possible to get to the limit of six dice and not have the jack-in-the-box encounter trigger, meaning that their luck holds out. if you want to give them extra wiggle room ( such as if they have to explore a whole dungeon without alerting the boss) you could do a countdown system, three 6 needed to pass on their first trigger, then only two, then one on every subsequent throw.

Whether or not the enemy announces itself when triggered is entirely dependant on how you want the encounter to play out: A giant might thunderously return home giving the party one last chance to dive for cover before they’re spotted, while a shadowy wraith might stalk the party from the darkness, waiting for the perfect time to strike under the pretenses that the count is still continuing.

You could also use this to represent a bountyhunter tracking down the party over the course of weeks, getting just a bit closer every time they give themselves away.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #pathfinder #ttrpg #homebrew mechanic #dm tips #dm advice #dm tip #dm tools #writing advice #DnD Mechanics #random encounters

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cerise-on-top · 2 months

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hey!! its me again. your only current madcom requester (as far as i know), i was wondering if you could please write skittles and possibly deimos (seperate) with an artist s/o? specifically one who is constantly doodling them and making art for them? thank you!

-💾

Welcome back! Thank you for another Madcom request, I was looking forward to writing it! This one was also really sweet!

Deimos and Skittles with an Artist!S/O

Deimos: He draws from time to time himself and isn’t even that bad at it either. Sure, it’s never gonna be an elaborate painting or anything, but small drawings of Sanford eating some kielbasa or Hank getting beaten by Doc again. His drawings are usually more on the humorous side since he prefers those. Either way, he’d feel honoured that you like him enough to want to doodle him this much and draw for him. Yes, he knows that he’s hot shit, but it’s still nice. In fact, everyone at S.Q. will know about you being such a wonderful artist since he’ll show those drawings to everyone. You’re such a nice person, and so good at arts, it deserves to be shown off to everyone he knows. Give him enough drawings and he’ll draw something for you as well. As mentioned before, he’s pretty decent at drawing, but he’ll genuinely put in some effort into drawing you, for example. Deimos gets around a lot, and he does loot quite a bit whenever he can, so don’t be surprised if he walks up to you with some art supplies that he got from somewhere. You’re always on his mind, so naturally he’ll get something for you just so he can see you draw. Sometimes you might even get to draw with each other since he would get into it again ever since he received a few doodles from you. Although I should mention that he’ll still draw funny things to get you to laugh, he does want to see you be in a good mood. And if it’s because of him, even better. However, he’ll keep each and every single drawing of yours in a box, they’re near and dear to him. I know he can draw too, but he would love nothing more than to ask you to draw a picture of you and him together as a keepsake. It’s more personal than a picture to him and takes more effort.

Skittles: Like Deimos, he, too, draws from time to time. Unlike Deimos, he’s not very good at it, but that has never discouraged him from drawing a nice scenery. In his eyes, with everything he creates he’s only gonna get better and better at it, so he really doesn’t mind not being the best at drawing. He likely has tried drawing other grunts as well, including you, so you’ll likely see a drawing of you here and there. How could he not, after all. However, he proudly does show you his drawing as well. Hypes you up like no one else when it comes to you drawing. Sure, he’ll be quiet when you are drawing, but he’ll never miss an opportunity to ask you about some new creations you may have made. He’s as genuine as it gets about it too, he really does want to see your drawings. However, he’s not a very good critic since everything you make is the best thing ever in his eyes, so you really shouldn’t ask him for constructive criticism if you want some. He can and will find something good about each and every single one of your drawings, whether you like it or not. He hangs the drawings you give him up as well. Especially with magnets on the fridge since he wants to see them for as long as possible. Also keeps them in a neatly decorated box, and also shows your skills off to everyone willing to listen to him. If you’re ever down to take some commissions, he’s your best bet since he can always find someone willing to buy from you. Very excitable about your skills and loves talking about you in general. Nevada deserves to know about how great you are. Skittles will also come up to you with some art supplies here and there, if he can find some. As long as you’re happy doodling away, he’s happy as well. Gives you a big hug for each and every single drawing you make for him, he wants to reward you somehow.

#madness combat #madness combat x reader #deimos #deimos x reader #madness combat skittles #skittles x reader #I always wished I could draw but I'm not really patient enough to teach myself and improve haha #I also just realised that Deimos would be sort of like Scout TF2 in this #I always liked to view those two as good friends if they existed in the same universe #except Deimos would likely be a bit smarter. he can probably read #wait he's a hacker he can most definitely read. Deimos is a smart cookie #I love saying smart cookie. it's such a cute expression #I used to have the biggest crush on Deimos when I was still with my ex. Deimos is just really good and fun #I even wrote a fic with him once that I posted as well #not true I've written two fics with him now that I remember #would I have ditched my ex for Deimos? absolutely no questions asked #but then again he was not a very good person in the first place. neither is Deimos but at least I'd have had fun #I'd have gotten to talk about IT with him which is good. I love IT it's such an interesting field. even if computers are the worst

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thesaart · 4 months

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Alan wake brainrot

I’m still not super far in the game I think but it’s amazing. also I find the cult of the tree kinda creepy and incredibly funny like I know they’re scary but just that they based their logo on the fbc’s cause the bureau said they’re unorganized is fucking hilarious to me. Or that they have those loot boxes that you can easily get into so what do they do? Write notes on top of the boxes like “don’t take our stuff” like dude your part of an evil deer tree cult yes I’m gonna take all your stuff especially that crossbow that was just chilling in one of those boxes

#alan wake (the man)#alan wake game #alan wake fanart #alan wake 2 #alan wake ii #Alan wake #cult of the tree #deer

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teecupangel · 4 months

Note

Hello, Yu-gi-oh! anon here! Thanks a lot for answering my ask :)

Really liked the idea of the Apple acting like the Puzzle, being a trigger for the ancestors to connect with Desmond! I’d like to think that after what Desmond went through it would be very comforting to know someone you can trust completely understands you and has your back - even if that person is technically not alive anymore. But at least the warmth of a kindred soul is there, right? And if he connects with his other ancestors…. Well. He won’t have to feel so alone.

Though, not gonna lie, I’m curious what a full on Yu-gi-oh! au would look like….. Egyptian God Cards as Isu POEs….

I’m glad you liked my idea! (Here’s the link to the Altaïr possesses Desmond ala Yami Yugi idea for those curious)

It would definitely be something akin to multiple possessions and having people in your mind comforting and supporting you when no one else would. In this situation, Ezio would wake up in Desmond’s consciousness after he watches Minerva’s message but Ratonhnhaké:ton would wake up after he took the Temple key from his father’s dead body.

But all of them remember all their memories up to their death so they’re certain they’re not Bleeds.

How could they be when Desmond’s genetic memories of them should stop after they conceived the child that would be Desmond’s ancestor?

It’s a mystery that they want to figure out. At the same time, they worry about Desmond, of course, because Desmond is… well… being his usual self which meant the three have their work cut out for them.

In this situation, they would believe being awaken inside Desmond meant that there is something more they must do, not just listen to Juno’s words.

This also means…

Desmond probably didn’t go in a coma and went straight to Ratonhnhaké:ton’s memories after receiving the Apple because Juno wouldn’t just have to control him, she’d have to stop Altaïr and Ezio from taking control back before she could stab Lucy.

That is… to say… if they haven’t figured out that Lucy is a Templar by then which is highly unlikely because the three of them would be suspicious of Lucy for far longer.

As for a Yu-Gi-Oh AU…

I’m thinking Desmond gets a puzzle like the Millennium Puzzle in the shape of the Apple of Eden and that awakens Altaïr as his ‘Yami’ personality.

They still play card games but this is more of the… ‘historical’ flavor. The main idea is that the card game they play uses Abstergo technology to have all those flashy special effects and Abstergo is also the company that held the card tournament that Desmond gets roped into because the price is another POE that might have a hint of Altaïr’s past.

A lot of cards are famous historical people and also historical events or ‘items’ and Desmond’s deck evolves the more he fights with the cards rewarded for winning supposedly random like gacha/loot boxes but that's very sus.

In a nutshell, there’s still the whole Assassins and Templars fighting in the background but now their battlefield is the tournament that’s stacked against the Assassins.

Desmond has no idea about any of these, he’s just there because Altaïr wants the prize.

Lucy is a fellow duelist who approached him to befriend him (she’s still working for Abstergo though but the Assassins believe she befriended him to help him because he has no idea what’s happening).

Unorganized Notes:

I’m tempted to make Malik Desmond and Altaïr’s Dark Magician but, considering how important he is to Desmond, it would actually be more accurate for Desmond’s Dark Magician to be Ezio.

Ratonhnhaké:ton is also one of his cards and his deck can actually be summarized as ‘cards that amps Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton up’ which includes the field card Monteriggioni that amps their HP as long as they’re marked as Assassins or Mercenaries, ‘magic’ cards like Hidden Blade which grants bonus attack, and trap cards like ‘Da Vinci’s Tank’ which bombards the enemy field if Ezio is specifically targeted. (Other ‘monster’ cards have effects that grants bonus to Ezio or Ratonhnhaké:ton (like Claudia and Faulkner) or call them to the field (Achilles and Mario))

Malik is also a card and he acts more like a tank card that lets Desmond draw an extra card every turn he’s in the field (aka: he’s there to make sure Desmond gets Ezio or Ratonhnhaké:ton as soon as possible). (Kadar is a card that, when defeated, summons Malik from the deck or hand to the field immediately. Malik is dealt damage equal to 1/8th of his total health though when he is summoned but Desmond will automatically draw 3 cards the first time he is summoned instead of 1)

Edward is also part of Desmond’s deck and he appears as the ‘monster’ (we need a different name for these kinds of cards) Edward can attack twice (but his attack is halved for each attack) and there's a Jackdaw spell card that, you guess it, let’s Desmond draw another extra card during his turn. If Edward is in the field with Jackdaw, his attack penalty is gone and he can attack twice with his full attack stat. If Edward and Ratonhnhaké:ton are on the field at the same time, Edward does a follow up attack (half without Jackdaw, full with Jackdaw) every time Ratonhnhaké:ton attacks. (Why ‘every’ time? Because the ‘monster’ card Haytham’s special skill is that it grants Ratonhnhaké:ton an extra attack each turn so yeah, getting Edward + Ratonhnhaké:ton + Haytham + Jackdaw on the field is OP)

There’s other monster cards that all have the same skill by the way. Every time they are killed, Desmond gets a badge. If he gets 3 badges, he can get Ezio from his deck and play him automatically on the field. These cards? Giovanni Auditore, Federico Auditore and Petruccio Auditore. Petruccio Auditore has low attack and low health. Playing him is really just to have a shield and for him to die. BUT, if you manage to summon Ezio with any of the three, Ezio absorbs any damage that’s meant for them (so that’s a double edged sword) AND his attack is increased by 25% for each of them. The monster card Claudia also has the same 25% bonus BUT she doesn’t give any 0.25% to Ezio and vice versa (but Ezio still gets the block 'penalty' for Claudia). There is a magic card that gives a permanent 25% attack bonus and a 10% regen each turn though called Maria Auditore and it applies to any card with the last name ‘Auditore’. (PS: Clay has Federico, Giovanni, Petruccio and Maria in his deck BUT not Claudia… as a reference to how his sessions ended around AC2 storyline)

Their trump card (kinda like their Exodia) is the card Aegis. It doesn’t attack but it can absorb any damage up to a point. The most annoying part of Aegis is that if you don’t destroy it in one turn, it will heal to full HP next turn. The downside is: there’s three pieces of Aegis and it has to be on the field all at the same time for it to activate.

Desmond’s deck is a very high risk, high reward deck that’s for sure

Desmond’s rival can be Clay (more on the trickster type rival) or Shaun. … maybe even Cross XD (Who is the Seto among the three? *shrug*)

What’s Abstergo’s end goal? No one actually knows but the truth is they can’t control what card is being ‘printed’. It’s actually based on a POE that they’re using for profit and to get the Assassins to make a move. The POE is in charge of the rewards after every battle as well.

The other historical Assassins will make an appearance as cards. Callum Lynch gets Arno and Aguilar. A woman by the name of Darcy Clarkson gets the Frye twins. Clay is the only other person to have a copy of Ezio but his deck is much more balanced and doesn’t focus too heavily on Ezio. Layla gets Bayek and Eivor. A woman by the name of Kass gets an OP card called 'Deimos'. This might be a hint that the people who get which cards have some connection to those cards.

The Egyptian god cards equivalent for this one is probably the Capitoline Triad (with Desmond getting Minerva, Clay getting Juno and... uuhhh... someone else getting Tinia???)

#is desmond’s deck op?#yes #do I regret it #nope #given more time i would have probably added more #altaïr doesn’t have a card because he’s possessing desmond #assassin's creed #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles #i don't know if i should tag anyone else???#oh well #yu gi oh au

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honourablejester · 3 months

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A while back, you made a post about your thoughts with the potential of there being so many dead gods in the Astral Sea, and it really got me thinking.

What sort of person willingly ventures into corpses of dead gods, not just to pull out fragments of their divinity, but for *any* reason? The danger must be ludicrous, coming that close to the corpse of a literal divine, *especially* if there are still fragments of its own divinity remaining.

I was wondering if you had any thoughts or concepts to go along with that.

Do you mean like, character concepts? What sort of adventurers would knowingly take jobs to plunder the corpses of the divine?

That’s a question with a lot of potential answers to it. Every character would probably have their own rationale for their willingness, or desire. Defiance. ‘The fact that they’re dead to be looted proves they’re not that much bigger and better than us!’. Pragmatism. ‘A corpse is a corpse is a corpse. Let’s just do the job and be done’. Fascination. ‘Do you not see how incredible this is? We’re inside a dead divinity. Imagine what we could learn!’. Power. ‘This thing used to be a god. There has to be something in here that would give us a leg up out there!’. Desperation. ‘Look, man, I know it’s creepy as hell, but I need that fucking money.’ Determined obliviousness. ‘Look, I don’t care what this thing used to be, right now it’s just a weird rock in space, okay? Just keep your cool and get through this, all right?’. Thrill-seeking/Fame-seeking. ‘How many people have ever crept into the corpse of a dead god and made it back out alive? We’re gonna be the first, baby!’. Genuine lack of concern. ‘Eh, what’s the worst that could happen?’. Weird reverence. ‘We are touching a fragment of the divine! Partaking of it. Is that not wonderous?’.

There’s a lot of reasons, basically. Every character would decide how they’re going to react and reconcile themselves to what they’re doing. I don’t really have mechanical concepts here, I feel like this is more in the realm of personalities/ideals/beliefs/bonds.

It would be kinda cool and/or funny, though, to have a normal, completely bog-standard graverobber, as in guys who dig up dead humanoid bodies for a living, and then suddenly present them with a much bigger corpse. For reasons. You got hired for a job back on good old terra firma because your client heard of your sangfroid and pragmatism, then you’re abruptly shanghaied into space, and informed that this particular job involves a slightly different class of corpse. And then you can be like, listen. Listen. I’m not sure what you think goes on in my job. But there is a bit of a difference between digging up some coffins and knocking the odd zombie over the head, and whatever the blind bleeding hell you’ve got going on here. Okay?

Though granted, in that case, they’re not exactly willingly plundering the corpses of dead gods. At least not initially. But it would be funny and/or a pretty good boxed crook concept, though. Heh.

Any help at all?

#d&d #character concepts #spelljammer #deities #graverobbers #i just enjoy graverobbers as a character concept #i still love that pathfinder has a legit background as one #excellent choice!

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allzelemonz · 2 years

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Seeing Stars: Simon X Male Reader

Prompt: Kinktober Day 9: Toys Pronouns: None mentioned; Reader referred to as 'boy' and ‘man’ in dialogue Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Toys, grinding, Simon hates dildos and thinks he's too good for toys, mentions of Negan loving his wives, anal plug, handcuffs, prostate massage, rough sex, both of them are switches but Simon's more of a top, Negan needs his Lieutenants to loosen up, asexual author that had to do a lot of fic reading to figure out how toys work Summary: On a run with Negan, the Saviors happen across a sex shop and bring home the lot. Being Negan's right hand, Simon and his S/O get first pick.

It’s the last thing he’d be looking for on a run. The very last thing. But when Negan spotted the store from the road no one dared to say a thing. The man loves his wives, that’s for sure. Judging by the amount of packages, boxes, and bags and grabs he’s planning to have quite a lot of fun. And when he throws a box to Simon with a wink when they’re in the cabin of the box truck, the Lieutenant can’t help the red that spreads all over his face.

When the trucks come in through the gate you wait with a few other Saviors, ready to unload the goods. Simon jumps down from the tall truck and makes a beeline for you. Typically he deals with whatever Negan’s told him to do or yells at a few of the workers, so his path to you is a bit unsettling. His face is red, all the way up to his hair.

“Simon!”

The yell from Negan stops him dead in his tracks. Judging by the smirk on Negan’s face, he’s the reason Simon’s blushing himself as red as a strawberry.

“Get your man and come unload this truck!”

Simon looks over to you, meeting your eyes in a ‘he’s fucking with us’ warning. You press your lips into a thin line. Of course he fucking with you. You make your way towards Simon and he turns to walk with you all the way to Negan.

“What is it?” You ask as you walk.

“Negan likes his jokes.”

“There’s my favorite boys!” Negan smiles wide as you near. “Now I gave Simon a little something, but I thought you’d wanna choose something together.”

The confused look on your face only makes Negan smile wider. He backs up and gestures to the big truck they’d ridden in.

“Go ahead, open it.” He says.

You glance to your side where Simon is standing, hands on his hips and eyes on the ground. Carefully, you round to the back of the truck and undo the locks. Gritting your teeth at whatever Negan has in store, you throw the door up and reveal the loot inside.

Sex toys, lingerie, lube-- they raided a sex shop. Your eyes dart between the piles of boxes and bags. Negan walks up behind you and puts an arm around your shoulders, the smile on his face never leaving.

He gestures broadly with Lucille. “Look at all this shit!”

Negan chuckles as he walks forward to the truck. He fiddles around in one of the boxes closer to the edge and pulls out a mostly blacked out box. He throws it to Simon.

“You two are gonna have some fun tonight!”

He looks between the two of you as Simon’s flush of red returns in full force. His eyes are focused on the box, a picture showing the product on the front. Negan walks closer to him, leaning in as if telling a secret.

“And that’s an order, boys.” Negan whispers, loud enough for you to hear. “You two gotta loosen up!”

He turns his smile to you and winks before walking off towards the compound, Lucille swinging at his side. Simon throws the box on the ground and kicks it under the truck once Negan’s out of sight. His hand returns to his hips as the redness begins to leave his face. You take a step forward, leaning over to look inside the box Negan had grabbed from. It’s full of the same product, all vibrating dildos.

“I take it he already had his pick?” You sigh. “So you get next?”

“Let’s just go. We don’t need this shit.”

Simon reaches up to pull the door back down, but you reach out and stop him.

“Have you ever used this stuff before?”

“You damn well know I don’t need any of this shit!”

“Simon, at least lube.” You argue, grabbing at one of the bigger boxes and pulling out a multipack of lube. “Spit can only do so much.”

“It gets the job done.” He argues, taking the pack and throwing it back in the box.

“I only fuck you like once a week! I’m the one that’s gotta deal with your dick most of the time.” You pull yourself up into the truck. “We’re getting lube.”

“Fine, fine! Just keep it down.” Simon crosses his arms, peeking around the truck.

“Simon there is not a man in the world that hasn’t used lube.” You pull a box down from a stack. “Granted, some might use it for cars and shit. You get the point.”

“Just pick something and get out of there.”

You hold up a box. “I can either pick something that will embarrass the hell out of you, or you can get up here and help me find something that’ll make us both see stars.”

The sight of the toy in your hand urges Simon into the truck. He swipes it from you and throws it back in the box, his eyes glaring down at you.

“What about this?” You hold up another box that Simon scoffs at.

“If we’re gonna do this we’re sticking to our own dicks.”

You sigh. “Then pick something.”

“Oh, I’ll pick something.” He mutters.

“You pick one for me, I pick one for you.”

Simon’s face goes red again for a moment before he sighs. “Fine.”

You both start to look through the boxes. There’s a lot of toys, most of which aren’t much use between two guys who have now sworn off dildos. You happen across a larger box that feels heavy. The price tag is almost $200, so it’s gotta be decent. Something that Simon wouldn’t normally go for, but with a little persuasion he’ll do it-- and he won’t regret it. Simon’s rummaging takes longer. He’s not the biggest fan of Negan’s little show and how invested his boss is in his sex life. He eventually finds something, two things really, that he’s actually excited to use.

The two of you close up the truck and watch as Negan sends each of his lieutenants to have their pick, the rest goes to the market. Simon and you walk back to your quarters, keeping your boxes hidden from one another. The discreet packaging makes it easy, most of the boxes have a flap on the front that cover the image and description so the box is just plain black. It certainly keeps Simon’s face from going red.

Once you close the door behind him, Simon drops the boxes on the couch and makes for his bottle of gin. You put your box on the side table and wait for him to get his first sip. He sighs and hangs his head, tired from the long day.

“We can do whatever you want.” You offer, eyes trailing over him. “We can do the toys later.”

Simon looks up at you, a twinkle in his eye. That mischievous twinkle you usually only see when he’s screwing over one of the other group’s leaders.

“Whatever…” He sets his glass down. “I…” He walks to you. “Want?” His hand goes to the side of your face. “Really?”

“You have an hour, then I’m using that toy on you.”

Simon smirks, then connects your lips in a kiss. His hand moves to the back of your neck to keep you close as he hungrily presses into you. He leads you over to the couch, blindly throwing the boxes aside and pulling you down with him.

“You know,” He takes a heavy breath. “I think I might use them now.”

He leans down to grab at the smaller box. You watch as he pulls out a pair of handcuffs, padding on the inside and everything. He raises his eyebrows and nods at you to give him your hands. You oblige, holding out your arms. He grabs you left and fastens the cuff around it before cuffing the right, he then pulls you towards him as he brings your arms over his shoulders so your hands are fastened behind his head. You’re very secured in his lap now, the hardness in his pants very clear against your ass.

“Now this, I like.” He smirks and gives you another digging kiss. “But I’m not done.”

The second box is easier to reach, it’s taller and Simon can pluck it off of the ground without disturbing your position. You lean back and allow him room to open it. This time he pulls out a genuine toy, an anal plug. It's a swirled one with a large spherical bump just before the flared ring on the end for easy removal. It’s not long enough to get at the deepest nerves inside of you, but enough to make you want Simon to replace it with his dick after enough teasing, and that is likely his goal.

He has a grin on his face as he watches your reaction, he pulls you back against him and his hand is already letting the box drop to the ground and moving behind you to tease your ass. He moves his fingers along your hole, daring to sip inside. He stops abruptly.

“You know what we forgot?” He chuckles.

You groan. “Damn it.”

Simon removes his hand as he continues to chuckle. He holds it in front of your mouth and you take each digit, one at a time, and suck until they’re well coated in spit. He returns his hand and wastes no time in plugging a finger inside. You gasp as the muscles adjust and he hooks his finger, adding another soon after. He brings his hand back to spit on it a few times before returning it to stretch you out again. Just as he’s entered a third finger the sight of him starting to suck on the plug makes a tingling start inside of you and your dick twitches as you cum in your pants.

“Oh, that’s it.” He whispers.

He rocks his fingers inside you and moves his lips to suck at your neck as you ride through your high. When he feels your dick soft against his stomach again he removes his hand so he can switch the plug over. He manages to get it past your waistband and it pokes at your stretched entrance. He gives a more gentle kiss as he pushes it inside. It muffles the moan that mixes with a scream as the toy stretches you further. The ball at the end enters you after a bit of force from Simon and you begin to lose feeling in your legs, thankful that you’re not standing.

Simon is starting to get it now. He doesn’t have to have his dick inside you or your’s in him to get off. Seeing you come undone with little effort on his part is a trip in itself. The way you’re made to cling to him because of the cuffs while your body shakes against him from pleasure makes him come close to the edge himself. He has to hold himself back from grinding into you as you try to move enough to get the plug to rub some friction inside of you. He brings you into another kiss instead. A teeth clashing kiss that allows you to move enough until you’re rutting against Simon.

He comes undone just as you did before, creating a mess in his pants. You hook the cuffs around the back of his neck to pull him closer as you readjust yourself, trying to get the plug to hit a decent spot. Simon stops you, bringing your arms away from him and pushing you back onto the couch. The impact as you fall back hits the plug deeper inside you, the ring even starting to press inside. He unfastens the cuffs and brings your arms behind you to restrict the use of your hands entirely as he cuffs you again. Your mind is still foggy from the hit of falling backwards and it takes you a moment to register the new feeling of Simon sucking you off.

His head is already bobbing by the time your body gets to focus on the sensation. He takes all of you, there’s a vague feeling of hitting the back of his throat that makes you thrust up to meet him. The thrusts make the plug move just enough to get the sensations from both sides and the feelings from straining against the cuffs behind your back make you mutter his name as you cum deep into his throat. You fall back, flat as you can as Simon sucks you dry and licks his lips when he’s done.

Your head spins and you screw your eyes shut as you try to get some amount of bearings. The feeling of the anal plug being pulled out makes you open them long enough to see Simon lining himself up. You close your eyes, wanting to savor this. Simon fucking you is always something to look forward too, but after all this build up you’ve never wanted anything more. His dick slides in easier than it ever has, even in the days when you had lube to spare. He sheaths fully into you and lets your muscles adjust around him. He hooks his arms around your legs, lifting you just enough so that when he drills into you he hits right into your prostate. You can’t help but open your eyes to watch as Simon hits his rhythm. There’s sweat on his brow and his eyes are locked in on his dick slamming into you. You only wish he’d taken off his shirt for this.

After a few minutes of Simon building up until he’s desperately fucking into you he cums again, this tiem inside of you. You make light effort to meet his sporadic thrusts as he rocks through his high. He leans forward and lays a kiss on your forehead as he pulls out. Just as he breaks the kiss you feel another, familiar pressure poking at your ass. Simon presses the plug back into you, much easier than before as it’s now aided by his own seed. You arch your back with the motion and Simon has to gently hold you in place to properly get the plug in place. He unfastens the cuffs and helps you sit up, holding your head up so he can kiss you again.

“Your turn, if you’re up for it.” He whispers.

“Did you think you were gonna get out of it if-”

“If I made you see stars?”

“It’s your turn to see stars, Simon.”

The blush spreads across his face and over his head again and as the stable feeling returns to your head you reach over to the table to grab the box you’d picked for him.

“Pants off, on the bed.”

He raises his eyebrows. “That an order?”

Your glare answers his question and he promptly does as he told with speed he wouldn’t even have for Negan. He lays comfortably on his back, twiddling his thumbs. You swirl your finger, indicating for him to lay on his stomach and obliges with a grumble. You prep him first, sitting on your hand and stretching him out as he did you, just gentler. He’s relaxed as your fingers stretch him out. As much as Simon loves a good, rough fuck, he also like when you treat him like glass and when you give him every ounce of your attention. That’s why you picked the toy you did.

You move to lay beside him so you can see his face. His eyes are closed, but he opens them to look at you. When you remove your fingers he groans and shuts his eyes again. You press the toy against him and slowly insert it inside until you know it's pressing right where it should. Simon’s fists are gripping the sheets from the stretching the toy brings. And when you turn the deceive on his mouth opens in wordless pleasure. The prostate is getting attention it never has before. You slowly up the settings as he gets used to the vibrations until it’s on the highest mode. He curls and presses into the bed as it sends him over the edge and he messes the sheets beneath him. He lets out a guttural noise as he does and his fists grip the sheets so tight that his knuckles fade into white. You turn the toy off as he begins to settle back down and you slowly pull it out.

He sighs. “What was that?”

“Prostate vibrator.”

His breathing is heavy as he tries to regain his typically threatening composure. Instead of speaking he just reaches his hand out for you to take and he squeezes.

“As soon as I can,” He takes a shaky breath. “Breathe again, you’re getting it.”

“Is that a threat?”

He sighs in response. He’s never been so spent in his life. Such a tough guy, laying helpless in his bed and seeing only stars.

#simon #twd simon #simon twd #twd simon x reader #twd simon x male reader #x reader #x male reader #smut #kinktober #twd #twd x reader #twd x male reader #the walking dead x male reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #walking dead #walking dead x reader #walking dead x male reader

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amee-racle-ofmyown · 4 months

Text

(for some reason tumblr wouldn't let me edit the post draft? so I've had to screenshot this ask)

how can I say no to someone asking me so nicely for heist mark content? and thank you!! I'm so happy you enjoy it🥺💖

I decided to go with 11. picking a leaf/flower petal out of their hair, or brushing dirt off of their face

mud on my face and heart on my sleeve, when I'm with you

Heist!Mark x reader | Words: 1,264 | Read on AO3

A masters degree in digging, huh?

A bad luck magnet and reckless idiot at times though he may be, your partner in crime never failed to surprise you.

You were left reeling, barely enough time to process the deep hole that had appeared on the floor of your shared cell in what was surely an impossible amount of time. Or had it been longer, and you had simply zoned out while he was digging? No, that didn't seem right.

Years of carefully planned heists — down to the precise minute for certain jobs — had allowed you to develop a near impeccable sense of time. But today you felt strange, as if something was throwing off that instinct, making you doubt your judgement.

Self-doubt, however, was something you could not afford to pay any mind on a high-stakes job such as this, especially when Mark always seemed to rely so heavily on your choices in the heat of the moment. So instead, you allowed yourself to indulge in his confidence, using it as a springboard to bring you back to certitude.

You followed him down into the tunnel as the two of you made your way under the penitentiary to the Warden's office.

When you emerged, the pair of you were covered head to toe in soil and dust. It wasn’t the first time you had both ended up dirty on a heist, having to throw your clothes in the laundry when you returned to base, but the smug satisfaction and relief that came with bringing home your loot was always well worth it.

Once you had secured The Box, it was only a matter of fooling the nearest prison guard into aiding your escape. You watched as Mark absolutely milked his performance, feeding the guard some sob story he’d made up on the fly about him and his grandmother both being on death’s door, while you gestured dramatically to emphasise parts of his tale when it felt appropriate.

You struggled to stay composed seeing Mark’s expressions — he’d always been one for theatrics. In your opinion, he was overdoing it too much for the act to be convincing, but all that really mattered was the guard was completely buying into it, far too distracted by Mark to notice you fighting to contain your laughter (or the gaping hole in the ground, apparently).

‘I know this sacrifice, and what it means to you. But it means so much more to me,’ Mark declared with as much gratitude as he could muster, clutching the guard’s phone tightly.

The guard responded with various distressed noises, and you honestly couldn’t believe how well this was going.

‘But if also, you know, I could hear my gran-gran’s voice in peace,’ Mark continued somberly. ‘I don’t want you to hear her. She’s real sick.’

‘Ok, yeah, she’s probably got some kind of weird co- I get it,’ the poor guard stuttered.

‘They’re okay, they can hear it,’ Mark said, nodding and gesturing to you.

‘Yeah you guys — y’all shower together n’ whatnot,’ the guard replied, getting up to leave.

Mark nodded dismissively while you frowned and raised an eyebrow at the guard’s words. As he trudged sadly down the hall, though, you felt a little bad for lying to him. Either he was going through something himself or was just a particularly emotional guy.

Mark perked up, dropping the act as soon as the guard was out of earshot. ‘Well, that was easier than I thought it’d be. But we got a phone, which is the only thing we need to get outta here.’

You stood up, stepping towards the edge of the room and poking a finger against the gate, which the guard had conveniently left ajar, pushing it wide open with a creak.

You turned to look at Mark, then back, gesturing to the open cell door and the obvious escape before you.

‘Nooo, that’s too easy. We’ll leave that as a backup plan for our backup plan. I’ve got a call to make.’

You simply rolled your eyes. At times like this, it was better to just let your heist partner do his thing.

You hear Bubba’s voice over the phone, letting you know he’ll arrive in five.

‘Now, I don’t know if that was five hours or five minutes—’

The squeal of tires is all the warning you get before a pickup truck bursts through the back wall of the cell rear-end first and you hear Bubba yell for you to get in.

What immediately transpires is a blur of motion as you feel adrenaline in your veins and your heart thrumming in your ribcage. Mark ushers you to the back of the vehicle, yanking the door open and letting you go first as you clamber into the safety of the cargo bed, pushing aside fallen bricks from the collapsed wall. Mark follows suit, pulling the door closed behind him, and the car speeds away into the night.

You barely register the chill of the October air as you cling to the back of the truck with your left hand.

The autumn wind whips at Mark's hair as he crouches beside you. You can't help but think he looks gorgeous despite his roughed up appearance, all the dirt from the tunnel and the rubble from the broken wall.

He shoots you a grin, looking positively ecstatic, and you can practically feel the triumph and thrill that radiates off him. It's the same feeling coursing through your nerves as well.

You have had close encounters with the authorities before, but breaking out of prison is a new high for you both.

You give him a wide smile in return, and when he looks directly into your eyes everything around you seems to slow and obscure out of focus. All that matters in this moment is that you're both safe and free, and all his attention is solely on you. The space between you feels static and you think to yourself that any risk, any close call, is worth it for him to be smiling at you like this.

You reach out towards his face with your free hand, cupping his cheek in your palm. His eyes widen a fraction but he doesn't say a word or make a move to pull away.

You almost miss how he leans ever so slightly into your touch as you swipe at the dirt with your thumb.

‘Your face is all dirty, dummy.’

‘So’s yours.’

Your other hand comes up to hold the other side of his face and you shift slightly, steadying yourself (not that you really need to, you seem to have slowed down enough that you won't fall out suddenly and besides, you trust Mark enough to grab you in time should that be a real danger).

His left hand comes up to your right to tenderly hold your wrist in place.

His skin feels warm against yours, stubble tickling your palms. You wipe at the dirt and dust with both thumbs this time.

Your faces are inches apart now. You can't ignore the way his eyes flicker very briefly down to your lips, and you have half a mind to kiss his stupid, smug face right then and there.

The moment is broken as Bubba calls out to you both from the driver seat, letting you know that you'll be far enough to stop soon.

As you and Mark exit the vehicle though, the rush remains present, and it isn't just from the thrill of escaping. His gaze and touch send you on a roller coaster of their own.

#aww. all that only for bob to pull a gun on them😔💔 LMAO #(EDIT UHH. this was scheduled for 10 pm my time I have no idea why it posted now tumblr is broken💀 whatever I guess)#I tried to keep y/n speaking to a minimum #I want to make a more concentrated effort to write them and the captain as selectively mute or very quiet #not for all my fics but some #coming up with a title was the hardest part of this #thank you for requesting!! and for reading🫶 I really missed getting writing requests honestly #amee writes #ahwm #a heist with markiplier #heist mark #heist!mark #mark iplier #heist mark x y/n #heist mark x reader #heist!mark x y/n #heist!mark x reader #partners in crime #x reader

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mymhameme · 9 months

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Dichotomy Part 2

This fic is a continuation of the first bit of writing I did for Dichotomy, so make sure to check that out when you get the chance!

Warnings- Blood, violence, death, abuse, drugs, cursing, car crashes, and maybe some other things I'm not thinking of right now.

This part is pretty dark so just be aware, but we will get through the sad beginnings and into Tenko and Keigo being little buddies in a bit.

Part 1.

The door dings when Keigo steps in and ducks behind a shelf. He peeks through cans and bags to see the man behind the counter look up at the door and then take a quick survey of the convenience store in confusion. They shrug and go back to swiping on a phone Keigo recognizes from tv.

He tiptoes around the isles being careful of the little mirror in the corner of the ceiling reflecting the wares and any sneaking boys hiding amongst them. Keigo gulps and places random things that look good in the canvas bag at his feet and he jerks to attention when the door chimes once again. He keeps an eye on the only other person in the shop besides him and the worker but the woman just approaches the guy in a gray shirt and asks for cigarettes.

“You got an ID?”

The woman is quiet for a moment before she huffs in annoyance.

“Are you serious? I’m obviously not a damn teenager.”

The man shrugs, face bored. He points to a sign on the wall with scribbles on it Keigo can’t understand. They’re just random shapes to him.

“Policy, ma’am. You got one?”

The woman huffs again and digs into her purse. While they’re distracted, Keigo runs to an isle that has toilet paper and things for cars. He looks back up when he hears the register open and the man puts money into it and then takes some out.

He's seen one before, only once. Mom had given some lady paper in exchange for his Endeavor plush and he saw how much they keep in those. He isn’t sure what it would amount to, but he’s sure it’s a lot. There was a lot more paper in those metal drawers than he had ever seen someone have in their pockets.

He wants it.

Mom could buy so many happy things with that much money, he’s sure of it.

He dwells on how to get it. Maybe wait until another customer comes and use his feathers? As he thinks on a plan, the woman gives one last scathing look at the worker who is already back on his phone. The door gives another ring, indicating her departure and the worker looks up to see her drive off.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” the man grunts out. He comes out from behind the door leading to his area where there are countless boxes of cigarettes and signs. He pulls out his own pack from his pocket and goes outside, struggling to light it with the strong wind billowing beyond the windows.

Keigo makes sure his back is completely turned before he makes his move.

There!

He ducks behind the door and scrambles up onto a stool in front of the register and looks at it, lost. Keigo doesn’t understand any of the buttons or words and the draw doesn’t have a handle to pull it out. Sliding a hardened feather between the crack, he fiddles with the machine from the inside until it bumps against something and there’s a click. The drawer slides open and Keigo gapes at the coins and paper inside. He chances a quick look back to the clerk who is still smoking, one hand to his mouth, the other swiping his thumb on the small back box he’s been fiddling with this whole time.

Keigo breathes out a relieved sound and the store is coated with crimson in an instant. Feathers race through the isles, plundering the bounty of snacks and food into plastic bags as he shoves all the money he can get his little fingers on into the canvas one he came with.

He runs back out to the main part of the store and recalls any feathers that aren’t needed to lift his loot. Taking a bracing breath, Keigo gives one test flap of his wings. He can do this, he decides. He can still fly like this, it’s fine.

The door beeps one last time as Keigo flies out as fast as he can, feathers and bags trailing after him so fast they’re almost a blur as he rushes past the man in the gray shirt. His eyes bulge as he sees what’s zooming out of the door beside him.

“Ah! H- hey!” He runs after the small boy but quickly gives up before he even makes it to the end of the parking lot. He throws his hands into the air in disbelief. “What the hell?!”

Keigo doesn’t slow down for anything, speeding through alleyways and side roads that he’s been wandering for days now. He has a decent idea of where heroes will be around this time of day and he carefully avoids those areas like the plague.

His heart is pounding from what he’s just done but he continues. It’s for Mamma. This inky feeling in his chest and stomach and at the back of his tongue are all for her. She’s going to be so happy, he tells himself. She’s gonna be so proud of him, he can be useful, he can prove it. He clutches the bag of money to his chest tighter so none is blown out. He won’t lose a single coin.

With this much money he won’t even have to do this again! Maybe they can buy a house and get jobs like everyone else he sees below him gawking at the bags in the air. Despite the guilt, he finds himself smiling.

It’ll all be okay now.

The wind is chilly against his skin but it feels nice compared to the heat he had felt running through him during his robbery. He relishes in it, swooping towards an overpass eager to see Mamma.

Something changes quickly. One of his feathers suddenly isn’t being weighed down anymore and he turns his head to look at it, alarmed.

There’s an empty bag, torn open at the bottom flapping in the feather’s hold. He can see the things that used to occupy it plummeting towards the highway over the water.

He gasps, flailing in midair as he flings himself at the falling food. He calls more feathers to help but he can’t sacrifice any more if he wants to stay in the sky. He isn’t going to make it, he realizes, horrified.

Keigo grimaces as cans of tuna and spam rain from the sky onto the cars below. The windshield of a silver car splinters, tomato soup splattering everywhere. The vehicle swerves into the other lane and Keigo shouts in alarm as car after car collides. There's the screeching metal and his feathers pick up the vibrations of screams.

It’s an utter disaster.

Keigo drops everything as he dives down towards the cars, his feathers racing through the air to try and scoop people out of the twisted remains of their vehicles. He doesn’t give the bag of money a second thought and he lets it go easily, bills fluttering into the river below the highway. He focuses everything he has on finding the vibrations of cries and screams, things he recognizes from his mother when she doesn’t get her happy things or when Dad used to be angry.

Keigo skids to a quick and painful landing, his bare feet scraping asphalt and glass as he comes to a stop. He’s managed to tug a few people out of the wreckage but there's a lot of red everywhere and he knows the cans of soup didn’t hit that many cars…

Those he ripped out of their vehicles are screaming in agony and fear, smacking at the feathers dragging them across the road. Someone points at him, their face an angry mask of pure rage. “You,” the man shouts. Keigo flinches, his wings tucking close to his back as the man hobbles on one good foot towards him. His face and voice are different from his father, but that expression is the same.

Hate.

“You did this! I saw you, you little fuck! I saw you drop those things on us!”

“She’s not breathing,” someone else screams. “Please, someone, she’s not breathing!”

Keigo takes his eyes away from the man approaching him and his father’s voice hisses in his mind. He can almost feel it in his feathers.

How dare you look away from me?!

He looks back to where there’s a car pinned against the metal stretching across the road's expanse. He can see through what used to be the windows. There’s large white pillows in the front seats, but in the back row there’s a woman who isn’t moving.

Her eyes are open but they look empty. It reminds him of when Mamma gets her happy things. The kind she uses shoelaces and needles and spoons to take. There’s blood at her temple, yellow hair plastered to the side of her face, and there- through her side- is a piece of metal as big as Keigo is, embedded in her torso from the door.

He stumbles back in shock and lets out a terrified squawk when strong, calloused hands snag in his feathers. He cries out and sharpens them on instinct and the man screams in pain, dropping him the few feet he managed to yank him up before three of his fingers were severed cleanly off.

“You little monster,” the man howls at him. “You evil little shit!” He’s holding the stumps where fingers used to be close to his chest, breathing heavily as he glares. He isn’t stepping closer to him anymore and Keigo can see fear in those eyes swarming alongside the hate. “Look what you’ve done! You’ve killed somebody! The hell is wrong with you?!”

Keigo looks around at the chaos he created. He looks at the cans of food, the boxes of snacks, the bars of candy, and a few scattered bills and coins that didn’t make it to the river. He looks at the blood and black stuff coating the ground and the three fingers laying at his feet.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I’m sorry!”

Keigo stumbles backwards, his legs feel numb and he doesn’t even notice how his feet hurt anymore. All he can feel is guilt. The world shattering shame making it impossible to think, to say anything more than a weak apology.

He tries to suck in a breath but it becomes a pitiful whine from his heart trying to shove itself out of his throat. All of a sudden the world is too bright, too loud, too cold, too hot- too everything. His feathers pick it all up, even the sticky weight of blood clinging to his feathers and he’s in the air before he can come back to himself.

Keigo's breathing is ragged and his face feels wet and cold and he can’t see very well, but he has to get to her, he has to get back to Mamma!

What is she gonna say?!

He stole from the store so he wouldn’t have to take things from people’s pockets, so he wouldn’t have to hurt anyone, and he couldn’t even do that! Momma was right- Dad was right- he’s useless.

He’s a horrible little brat.

By the time he finally makes it, he skids to a sloppy stop in the water. He loses his footing on the slippery rocks under the surface and he sinks right into the pool of old leaves and empty wrappers. Mamma jerks out of her sleep with a strangled cry. She looks confused and scared but she relaxes when she sees Keigo stumbling out of the water to her.

She smiles, weak but hopeful at him and opens her arms. He collapses into her embrace, too distracted to even shake off his soaking wet wings that are heavy against his back. She hushes him and pets his hair comfortingly. “There, there,” she tells him. “I know you hate doing these things, but I’m so proud of you, Baby.” She leans down to take his wet face into her grimy hands.

“How much did you get, Kei? Where is it?”

“I don- I don’t–” he can’t get the words out past the horrible tightness in his throat. “I don’ have it, Mamma, I messed up! I messed up so bad!”

Mamma stills. Her thumbs stop wiping the moisture from the corners of his eyes and his shaking doubles. His small hands cling to her, his eyes searching her face for any sign of comfort. All he finds there is chilly gray tones swirling with disappointed anger.

“Momma--”

“I asked you for one thing, Keigo! One fucking thing! Steal some goddamn money for us and you can’t even do something as simple as that!”

He knows. God, does he know.

She tries to shove him off but he worms in closer, trying to hide his face in her chest. She snarls and yanks at his hair. He ignores it and uses his wings to propel himself further into her space.

“Get off of me! Get the fuck away from me you useless little bastard!”

Keigo clings to her tighter. “I tried, I tried! I’m sorry! I dropped it! I dropped it all and- and–”

For the second time that day he feels hands tear at his feathers and he scrambles backwards. He has enough sense not to cut his mother, but his wings won’t stop twitching even after he lands on his ass in the water once more.

“Get out of here,” she whispers. “Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back until you’ve got cash, you hear me?!”

“But-”

“Now, Keigo!!”

He pushes himself clumsily out of the water once more and flaps his wings to try and take off. It’s difficult. They’re heavy and wet and cold and he’s so scared but he manages to get out of the short tunnel and far away from his mother’s enraged cries.

He’s crying loudly, he knows he is, but he can’t stop it. Momma and Dad hate when he cries, it’s annoying. Crying doesn’t solve anything, they told him so- but he just. Can’t. Stop!

He lands on a roof when his heavy wings are just too hard to keep himself in the air anymore. He rests on his hands and knees, hiccupping and whimpering to himself to try and stay quiet.

Sinking closer to the rooftop, he just sniffles against the ground miserably.

He ruined everything.

He wishes he brought Endeavor with him. However the very thought of the hero has his crying ramp up again. How could he ever look at that doll again after what he did today? He was a villain. A murderer, just like Dad. He killed that woman. He probably killed more than just her!

And it was all for nothing.

He has nothing to show for it besides the blood that’s clinging to some of his feathers. He detaches the tainted tufts of red and snaps them in half, tearing them up as much as he can. The roof is decorated with little bits of crimson that are pushed around by the wind and swept away from him. Keigo watches them go with a glare.

They were useless today.

Useless, just like his parents had called them. Just like him, they were a mistake. A horrible little curse that should never have been born. He proved that much was true today.

Keigo settles on his rear and brings his arms around his knees while he sniffles miserably into the wet fabric of his pants, the material clinging to him like a second skin even now. It’s getting colder out and the sun is going down. He’s going to be stuck in these wet clothes all night, he realizes.

Serves him right.

His feet are still numb and bloody and he looks at them warily. They don’t really hurt but he knows there’s glass in there. Keigo swipes an arm over his face and gets to work pulling the small shards out where he can.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there afterwards but the pain behind his eyes fades enough to be bearable so Keigo pushes himself to his feet. He’s shivering but he doesn’t really feel cold anymore, either. He doesn’t really feel anything.

He’s got to get money, he tells himself.

Momma’s waiting.

___________________

Yeah, so Keigo didn't have a good day.

Tenko should be introduced soon, so hang on tight! We'll get to the hurt and comfort and wholesome stuff in a little bit! It won't all be dreary and dark, I promise.

I'll be posting more writing since my laptop won't let me draw anymore, so look forward to that I guess. 😅

I really do wish I could have drawn some scenes from this to post alongside of it. That's always fun, but it'll have to wait till I get a new laptop sorted out.

#dichotomy #hawks #keigo #keigo takami #takami keigo #tomie #tomie keigo #bnha #mha #my writing #blood #death #violence #abuse #my fic

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