UPDATE

Preview to a ficlet I’m writing for Transformers

This is in response to a Mafia AU with Humanformers roleplay my friend is in. I was submitting this in response to a prompt given for the RP for the part of roleplaying as Ratchet.  The Prompt was: “ Optimus and Ratchet fighting because OP ignored a warning from him not to send out certain members and it ended up with some of them nearly dying and one currently in critical condition. “ It was pretty vague to give the writer the freedom to explore the possibilities of the scene.

I took my 3 paragraphs I wrote to get the part of Ratchet and made it my own starter for a ficlet I’m dubbing...

Whiskey Instead of Rubbing Alcohol

It had been ten hours since he left the medbay, ten hours of his hands deep in the gut of someone else, voice hoarse from barking order after order. It had been easy for him to fall into the adrenalin rush of having more patients than on-call nursing staff. The room where he had worked was freezing at one point but had since heated with the bodies that swarmed inside it like maggots to a corpse. In the chaos, he hadn’t realized how much blood had actually got on him and his once light blue scrubs were an ombre of reds. His arms still had specks of blood on them and he could feel the sweat still sliding down his face as he tried to calm his pounding heart. His eyes were thin slits as he squinted to deny the migraine that was begging to form behind his eyes. His shoulders were tense, boxed and seemed like a warrior getting ready to face off against an army he was outnumbered for. His breath shutters for what seems like the millionth time since he left the ward with all its patients in stable condition, and he bowed his head to rub at the bridge of his nose. Outnumbered like the men Optimus had sent into the fray with nothing more than a pep talk and some rushed instructions. 

His teeth grind so hard together he could feel the sandiness of his teeth slowly being whittled away. His hand slammed onto his desk from his nose, reaching again for the large jack-daniels and pouring the open bottle into his glass. He threw his head back as he took the entire glass like a shot, the burn spreading like a poison across his tongue and burning away his anxieties as it scorched down his throat before sending one last devil’s cry up his nose. As it settled to melt his stomach, he sputtered a cough, moisture pricking his eyes as he rapidly blinked to clear his vision, sure of when his vision cleared the body of one of his patients would be lying dead before him. He ran a trembling hand through his now spiked hair, trying to smooth it down as if it would soothe him, but his anger caused his hand to clench around the ends and pull with a force that ripped a few strains from his head. The burn of vinegar was pungent when mixed with the copper scent coming from the ward down the hall. 

His office was dimmed and the only light was that on his desk, the yellowed glow reflecting off his face and making him seem gaunt and sickly discolored. Heavy bags under his bloodshot eyes, staring blankly at the paperwork that would need to be filled out and filed later. He couldn’t bring himself to even recount in writing what he had to do to save those poor men- boys, they were so young- lives. His breath wavers as his shoulders shake with the manifestation of his frustrations and he shakily poured himself another glass. Occasional beeps drifted into his office from behind his closed door and it seemed to him as if the reaper was ringing his bell and trying to lure those boys to eternal sleep after all he tried to do to save them. He wouldn’t be surprised if at least three didn’t survive the night- but he hoped to any god above, if one existed, that they would all pull through. He didn’t think he could handle having to call their mothers with the news of their children’s youthful demise.

I remember you said that you like horror, and I was curious. Do you do requests for dead by daylight? Or anything else horror related?

Yeah, I do Michael Myers, Freddie, Jason, And Budda. I don't play dead by daylight tho, so I only know like, bare minimum from trailers for the game.

I am pretty creative tho, if you have a non-horror thing you want written scary I can totally do that too.

I got freaking Wheeljack(*happy squeal sound*) and the description? Accurate. Like I felt called out. Thanks.

This is something that’s been sitting in my to do list forever and was the only thing I was able to do while sick

Enjoy

Stolen Nectar

My newest Ao3 fanfic for MHA, Toshinori Yagi x Obsessive!AFO, Non-Con, abduction, multi-chapter.

Tumblr: *rolls out “best stuff first”*

My blog:

Reblog and put in the tags what comes up when you type “I’m”

how would the mtmte bots of ur choosing react to being called dad/mom?

Human Liaison!Verse because the concept has suddenly stolen my heart. ❤ I did a whole bunch of these (the officers, plus some more i thought would be brilliant) bc I got very big Brooklyn 99 Vibes(tm) from this one and that also gave me some Big Feelings.

Human!Liaison, distractedly: Oh, thanks Dad. Wait no-

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Rodimus: You got it, kid! [cheesy thumbs-up]

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Drift: No problem. Remember, dinner’s at seven. Mom (Ratchet) made lasagna.

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Magnus: [definitely not about to cry] I... you’re welcome, child... 

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Megatron: No.

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Swerve: Hey, no prob, squirt! Just, uhh, don’t tell uncle Magnus 'bout this, okay?

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Rung: Do you really think of me as a father figure, [Y/N]?

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Whirl: Got your back, punk. HEY EVERYBODY!! SEE THIS KID?! MY KID NOW. MESS WITH [Y/N], YOU ANSWER TO ME.

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Rewind: ...that is it, I’m adopting you. Have you seen your other dad? We need to have a chat. Domey? Hey, c'mere! You have to meet our new-

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Ratchet: I’m not your dad, kid.

First Aid, from the hallway: [Maury voice] YOU are NOT the father!

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Tailgate: [head pats] Of course, sweetie. Anytime.

Tailgate, running away: CYCLONUS!!! CYCLONUS WE’RE DADS NOW-

My request is kinda similar to my first one. (Dragon Ball) Android 18 (Destroyed Future Version) Finding a guy hiding out from the Androids. But she thinks he is cute so she decides to make him her boyfriend. (Even if he likes it or not) But if she catches him trying to escape she sits on his face to teach him a lesson, having his face trapped under her booty until she is sure he will be faithful to her

I gotta ask, what’s your obsession with women sitting on dudes faces to show dominance? I’m not judging, but what is so fascinating? Also, sorry this took so long but I tried to go extra, so I hope you like it!CW: Male reader, Mentions of gore(very brief), POV switching(Only once), Facesitting to show dominance, male submission, mentions of enslavement and forced pet play. 

Queen of Apathy’s new pet

The buildings stand in defiance of the people who fell. They are no vulnerable flesh but concrete and steel, not as timeless as the mountains that ring the city but able to outlast the civilization that created them by centuries. Given enough time even the smooth grey will give way to a jungle of green and this “ancient” civilization will lay ruined for future generations to discover and perhaps piece together how we lived. I wonder if they'll know how we, with all our labor-saving devices could barely glean six hours sleep, and even when the opportunity to rest came our stress levels kept us unwillingly awake. But for now, all I can do is walk ant-like between the monoliths, grey at my feet, grey at every side, under a carpet of grey that promises nothing but a storm. In the end, it was not our using up of resources that killed us. It was our arrogance and lust for technology that doomed us, for it was man’s own created machines that slaughtered us simply because they could.

A bleak, thin wind it was, like a fine sour wine, searching the marrow and bringing no bloom to the cheek. A thick dreariness that hung in the air and condensed in my lungs making it difficult to breathe. The sky swirls, ominous clouds tinted with the blood of the fallen which had turned to mist in the heat of their death, curling together like a serpent. These clouds were followed by the sudden burst of lightning, sometimes flashing bolts of pure energy seem to stand for long moments around certain buildings. Count one, count two, count three, then, came explosions of thunder in great waves of discordant and demented sounds. The noise level became so intense that it rattled what few windows were still intact. The wind raised to the level of a thousand howling hounds.

I bend forward, pulling my hood over my head and picking up my pace. I run into an abandoned building, the rain pounds against my back like bullets. By the time I get to my sanctuary, I am soaked to the bone and stand shivering like a rat just pulled from the water. My teeth clatter together to create a melody with my pounding heart as it thumps against my ribcage. I drop the hood of my jacket down, it slaps onto my back with a wet splat that has a small, childish chuckle leaving me at the obscene noise. I breathe slowly, in then out to still my heart and relax my tense muscles. They hadn’t been seen in some time and so I had volunteered to go out to scavenge the cities with a small group. I had wondered away from the others, I wanted to see my old apartment and try and scavenge what I could from it- at least pick up a few of my old toys for the kids back home, I knew they could use that cheering up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If apathy was a person, Dr. Gero once said, her skin would be pale from lack of sun and her limbs would seem to thin and long for her torso. Her hair would be as pale gold as wheat overdue for harvest, swaying in the wind and eyes of a clouded sky on a summer day. Her voice would be of a viola, slow and even with the hint of more emotion under a stone facade of uninterest. If apathy was a person, I would be her. Through all his constant monologuing, that was the few things I remember. Apathy, yes I am apathy. Nothing is as interesting anymore, if things were different would I still be apathetic? Possibly, what could be stronger than my brother and I?

Flying over this broken cityscape brings more waves of disinterest, constant boredom that gnaws like an insistent rat at the back of my mind. It burrows itself in my bones and tightens my muscles to the point I feel I may explode if I don’t find something to do. My eyes scan below me, surely scavenge teams have been sent out? Surely, one human will be foolish to walk out in the open. I close my eyes, crossing my arms and weaving around buildings in frustrating ease that spoke volumes for the monotony of my current life. However, I jerk to a halt. A noise, soft and near blending into the rain that mops my hair. Feet, running. My eyes scan the area now on full alert and spot the retreating form of someone running into a building. A smirk dances onto my lips and I fly higher into the sky, knowing the building had a hole on one side of the roof. As I approach the roof I can hear it chuckle, a deep sound. A male. I descend at a quicker pace, peeking inside to get a feel of the situation before chuckling myself.

A lone guy soaked to the bone and thinking he was safe. How...pathetic. Truly, apathy did not feel like this. I landed silently, his back still turned to me. Surely, he had heard me or was he so enraptured with his escape from the rain that he was truly oblivious. I stand behind him, a sudden wave of giddy anticipation for what I could do this human thumping through my body from head to toes. He was none the wiser to my presence just behind him. I could blast a hole through his back, strangle him from behind or if I don’t mind getting dirty, I could rip his intestines out as he slowly bleeds to death and watch as the life leaves his eyes. However, we are both startled as he turns abruptly and he screams, throwing himself back against a wall. For my part, my eyes only widen a margin before I am closing in on him.

My hand snaps up and my fingers wrap around his neck, feeling his quickened pulse against my palm. His own hands fly up to grip my wrist and he struggles to breathe. He gasps, eyes glassing over and mouth gaping like a fish. His hair is tousled and wet, clinging to his forehead and his eyes look frantically at my face and at the things behind me. He begs, only barely with my crushing grasp. My head tilts, my own eyes flickering around his face and body. For a human, he was attractive I could suppose. More of an endearing cuteness added to the fact of how weak he was, it was like seeing a puppy. Your instinct to kill it diminished when it gave you pleading eyes and soft, high pitched whines. My hand unlocks from around his reddened throat and he drops to the floor. His hands now feeling around his throat as he coughs and sputters, trying to scoot further back into the wall and appear as none threatening as possible.

I rest my hands on my hips, thinking. If I killed him now, it would be boring again. I’d fall right back into the rut I was in before with nothing to do. However, if I kept him around I could have endless amount of fun. I could make him do useless chores, do tricks like a dog. 17 wouldn’t be happy at first, but he did say I could have anything I wanted and perhaps, at least for the time being, I could keep him on a leash. If he got boring I could torture the location of the other humans out of him and get a new toy. What to do now, though? He seems submissive enough but what would really drive home the fact he is laughably weak compared to me?

A smirk slowly drew up my lips and my pearly white teeth exposed themselves. I knelt before him, grinning like a shark as I slowly undid my belt. If it worked in the animal kingdom, surely it would work for this. He was just a dog now. I stared in down as he watched in abject horror as I grasped my belt in hand. “Your hands. Put them out in front of you.” I practically purr out, I couldn’t have him thinking he could try to get away and if his hands were bound he wouldn’t be able to stop me. He doesn’t listen at first, stares blankly at me before I snap the belt. That jolts him into action and he presents his hands as if he were expecting to get handcuffs. I chuckle, “Used to being bound, are we?” I cooe before quickly binding his hands together with my belt. I then stand, stepping on the extra belt and effectively pinning his hands to the ground between his legs.

I turn my body, my foot that stands on the belt simply twisting with me instead of picking it up. I could hear him swallow and it causes a chuckle to work its way out of me. I then grab a fistful of his hair, using it as an anchor. “You’re pathetic, a dog. A lowly mutt that serves no purpose but for my entertainment.” I then lean back, pressing my ass to his face. He struggles but I keep his arms and head still as I grind.

“Do you understand? You belong to me now. I am your master, your Alpha and you are nothing but an omega who lives to serve me until the day I decide you are useless.” My voice is chipper, giddy at the end and I laugh. My eyes sparkle with a level of pure delight, not even killing can accomplish these days.

He whimpers like a dog, body going limp and I can feel him nod, agreeing to whatever I say. I pull away, he gasps for breath that I had stolen from him for a second time. I step away, throwing him to the ground and he lands on his side. His eyes are red and puffy, wetness now from crying running down his cheeks. His face is a deep red from my action and he shivers from a combination of cold, fear and pure humiliation. My head tilts up, looking down at him from my nose and my hands go back to my hips.

I may be the personification of Apathy, but that does not mean I can’t take an interest in something.

Keir Starmer: Israel Has The Right To Kill

These so-called leaders keep giving Israel the green light to commit genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity.

They supply that Rogue state with weapons to commit genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity.

Then they consistently validate that pariah's genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity.