#Citrus Warning

[panther-os]

I understand there may be some tgcf fans who think "zhanmadao" is just the name of Mu Qing's saber rather than an entire classification of weapon and are probably thinking of something closer to a yanlingdao or any other weapon in the dao family that is a normal sword size, so here are a couple exhibition-style YouTube videos you may enjoy. The first one is just under 30 seconds and the second just under 2 minutes. Have fun!

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

another way to die [side story: cake]

Sebastian gets a piece of cake.

Brucemont gets horny.

(SMUT UNDER CUT. Also, have pictures !)

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

Barely had Sebastian taken another bite of the cake than Brucemont had suddenly seized his free hand. The gunbreaker started in surprise, his mouth still full.

"Brucemont?!"

"Follow me." The dragoon answered darkly. Sebastian let himself be pulled along, rapidly chewing and swallowing the mouthful of cake he'd had before finishing off the remains. Brucemont intentionally did not turn back to look, instead focusing on his goal. There was what looked to be a private corner of the nearby docks, and even better—there were crates stacked on it. Arranged just so, they offered some modicum of privacy. Pausing only to check-good, they hadn't been followed, there was nobody around—Brucemont stepped into the hidden nook and pulled Sebastian in after him.

"Brucemont! What are you—mmm!" Sebastian was cut off as the dragoon spun around, capturing his lips in a kiss. Immediately his world was filled with Brucemont's smell, his touch, and the lingering taste of the fruit juice he'd had earlier. Heat rose within Sebastian, and he lifted his hands to curl them into Brucemont's collar, all the better to keep kissing him. A quiet growl escaped the elezen as he broke the embrace, licking his lips.

"You and that damn cake." He whispered. "Were you trying to tempt me? You've succeeded." Surprise flashed across Sebastian's face, and he blinked up at Brucemont.

"Tempt you? No, I'd been waiting on a piece—it's called tres leches, and it's a extremely popular dessert here." The last time he'd tried to get a slice, Mathye-damn him—had stolen it. And Sebastian wasn't too sure, but he suspected Riven had a direct connection with the cook at that particular restaurant, and he'd not wanted to take any chances—

Wait. Tempt Brucemont? The implications of the dragoon's question suddenly caught up with Sebastian, and he stared up at the elezen. Scarlet bloomed on his cheeks.

"N—no!" He spluttered. "No, I wasn't-I wasn't thinking that way!" Thaliak save him, all he'd wanted to do was enjoy his cake slice in peace! And now Brucemont was smirking at him and oh shite, he still had frosting on his fingers and he'd grabbed Brucemont by the collar and wait a minute, what was he… Sebastian froze as the elezen took the hand that still had frosting on it. With a smirk, Brucemont kept his gaze on the hyur. Without breaking eye contact, he pressed his lips to the skin of Sebastian's fingers, lapping off the frosting and cake pieces that were still attached. The gunbreaker could only stare, suddenly it was rather hard to stay upright. Partly from his knees suddenly getting weak, but also the raging hard-on he was now keenly aware of.

"B…Brucemont…" Brucemont hummed, lapping up another spot of frosting and cake.

"You should have shared." He whispered. Sebastian swallowed, using his free hand to brace himself against the crate—oh, there was a crate behind him. A few, actually. He didn't trust himself to stay fully upright at the moment.

"You—you didn't…" When had it suddenly become so warm? He was warm and Brucemont was smirking at him like a devil incarnate and all he could really focus on was that tongue gliding across his fingers and he felt like he was going to explode out of his pants all he wanted to do was kiss him and never stop, never come up for air. Then he gasped as lips swallowed one of his fingers, tongue and mouth moving in a blatant mimicry of a blowjob. Brucemont did not linger, releasing the finger and lifting his head to capture Sebastian's mouth in a scorching kiss. With a growl he moved to pick up the gunbreaker, pushing him down onto the crates. Sebastian clung to him in response, their tongues dueling, greedy for more attention, more kisses, more everything. Inbetween breaths Brucemont dropped his hands to Sebastian's waist, undoing his pants. Sebastian helped by lifting his hips, a small part of him was shrieking that they were in public, they could be seen or chanced upon but he didn't care. His reward was Brucemont immediately taking his cock in one hand and stroking, while the other fumbled at his belt.

"Spread your legs." He ordered, his voice darker. Sebastian obeyed, chest heaving as he grabbed onto the dragoon for support, an anchor—something to ground him as lust/desire/pleasure swamped his senses. The feel of Brucemont's callused fingers roughly pumping his cock, the salt-smell of the air mingling with the faint smell of cut wood beneath him. The lingering taste of the cake—milk and vanilla, with the tart sweetness of the strawberry that had been on top. Then a cry escaped him as Brucemont suddenly let go.

"Brucemont!"

"Sssh." Brucemont soothed. Fuck, he was so hard that it was difficult to unlace his pants. And find the vial of oil he kept on him. And resist the temptation to bow his head and swallow Sebastian whole, to hear him scream and feel him writhe helplessly against him. It would be satisfying, but not enough. Relief snaked down Brucemont's spine as he finally freed himself. That done, he fumbled for the small satchel at his waist, just barely snatching the glass vial inside before the fabric followed the laws of gravity. Without preamble he popped off the stopper, upending the contents over his fingers and Sebastian.

"Relax for me." He murmured, pressing his fingers against his lover's entrance before slowly working one inside. Sebastian cried out, clutching at Brucemont's neck. Gritting his teeth, the dragoon added another finger, curling and stroking as best as he could to spread the oil as best as he could. Sebastian whimpered, and the sound of it broke Brucemont's patience. Withdrawing his finger, he lined up his cock and began to push inside.

"Ah—fuck!" Heat and pressure sent levin-lines running through Brucemont, and Sebastian's lips parted on another cry. Brucemont bent his head to capture the other man's lips in a kiss, desire swelling at the muffled cries filling his ears. He wanted more of those noises, more of the heat and levin lines that were lashing him with pleasure. With a growl he began to fuck Sebastian in earnest, his fingers still stroking and pumping the other man's cock. His reward was more of those delightful cries and pleas, Sebastian clutching at him and the crates.

"Brucemont!" Every movement was bliss, pleasure and sensual pain making him throb in delicious agony. Brucemont's hand felt so fucking good, stroking and squeezing just right and it hurt so good he needed more, wanted more. Every thrust the dragoon made Sebastian felt as if everything in his body was lighting up. He wanted more, he needed more—

"Be a good boy." Brucemont growled, spearing him with one particularly sharp thrust and squeezing his cock hard at the same time. Sebastian choked and nearly howled, yesyesyesyes that was what he needed gods yes please— Everything was too hot, too much but it all felt so fucking good and he was on that edge and he couldn't stand it—

"Brucemont!" He didn't know what he was begging for, more bliss? More pain? Release? If he could come he'd do whatever the other man wanted, be whatever he wanted, oh gods he'd do whatever he'd ask if he would be merciful and let him come he needed to come so badly— Above him, Brucemont was barely hanging onto his sanity. A whirlpool of pleasure awaited, threatening to pull him down but he wanted, needed to see Sebastian come apart.

"Give it to me." He demanded, squeezing and stroking Sebastian's pulsing cock as he kept thrusting. He watched as the hyur choked again, chest heaving, eyes wild and desperate before he threw his head back, a scream winging it's way towards his throat—

And Brucemont moved, one final sharp thrust and his world was whiting out, the sounds of Sebastian's screaming muffled by his kiss, greedily devouring every part of the gunbreaker's breath. For several moments, for an eternity the two seemed to hang there, locked in bliss. When his lungs started to burn Brucemont pulled away, panting as he caught his breath, dragging in another deep lungful of salt-spray air. Beneath him, Sebastian moaned quietly. His eyes were heavy-lidded and lust-glazed, parted lips still red from the dragoon's kiss. A pink flush covered his cheeks, spreading down his neck and beneath his collar. The expression on his face was blissfully vacant, higher logic temporarily suspended by the powerful orgasm he'd screamed into the dragoon's mouth. More of the flush could be spotted on the glimpse of chest his shirt provided. His cock lay limply between them in a puddle of its own cum. He looked absolutely wrecked and debauched, and Brucemont liked seeing him that way. Reveled in it. One of the most powerful warriors on the star, completely undone and at his mercy.

(And the fact that Sebastian trusted him enough to let him have this, whispered a sly voice in his head. That he sought him out as a refuge, as a moment to let down his shields and just be a simple man. And that he did the same for Brucemont—a break from the recovery of the horrors of war, of rebuilding, of fresh threats and the ever-present threat of the freeze, getting ever colder and colder.)

Brucemont inhaled. Shoved that sly little voice away. He shifted his weight and Sebastian moaned quietly, gripping his neck harder.

"Don't go." He whispered.

"Not going anywhere." Brucemont whispered back. He removed his right hand from beneath Sebastian's back, letting the crate take the other man's weight.

"Just going to clean this up a bit." Thankfully he'd at least had the wits to let their pants drop to roughly about their knees. Brucemont fumbled for the still-open pouch attached to his belt, pulling out a small towel to wipe both himself and Sebastian down. The gunbreaker made a small noise, whimpering as the soft cloth moved over his cock.

"Ah ah." Brucemont chided gently. The job done, he dropped the fabric to the side—a Fire spell would take care of it right before they left. Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath, trying to get his wits together. He needed to get up, make himself look presentable, but he didn't want to. Another whimper escaped him as long, slender fingers wrapped around his length again.

"Keep looking like that and I'll do it again." Brucemont indulged himself in a fast nibble on Sebastian's neck.

"Please." Sebastian breathed. Desire was a living, breathing creature inside of him. The dragoon chuckled darkly.

"If you behave yourself today, then later on tonight." He promised, his voice husky. "In the meantime, let's rejoin the general public, hmm?"

"I-I need a minute." Sebastian murmured. Sanity was slowly trickling back, but he moaned as Brucemont gave him a teasing caress. "N—no fair!"

"Next time, share." Brucemont let go, stepping back to give his lover some room as he helped him off the crate. He kept his arm nearby for Sebastian to grip if needed, and watched with a little smile as the hyur started to fuss with his clothing. There was still a flush high on Sebastian's cheeks, and his eyes were shining a bit too brightly. There was no way nobody was going to look at the hyur and not suspect what had gone on.

Which he personally liked.

"Do you need a little more time?"

[nikkxb]

Legend of Illethai Mobre Update

Chapter 9

Rating: Explicit Status: In Progress Summary: In Kagome’s new neighborhood, there’s a wall. It’s been there for years, this massive sheet of concrete stretching across the land, separating a memorial from the neighboring church. One day on her afternoon walks, curiosity has Kagome seeking out the history behind this piece, why it exists, and what the stories around it mean. She didn’t expect the stories to be real.

Chapter Excerpt:

The door opened behind her, footsteps coming in. Miroku and Sango got over here quick, considering how bad traffic could be on a Friday afternoon. Turning to greet them, she froze at the sight of silver hair looking over the papers on the coffee table.

He was in jeans and a tee, very much not his work scrubs, and the last person she expected to see. After Wednesday, she couldn’t imagine pulling him back into this and didn’t understand why he was there. She distinctly recalled Touga telling him to leave it all alone, so why would he be standing there reading over the copies she’d received from Shiori?

“Dad called me,” he started saying, not looking up from the table. “Myouga called him as soon as he knew you were heading over and wanted someone else to be here. I was the closest one.”

Amber eyes looked up at her, weary, but friendly, and he offered her a self-deprecating smile. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”

Read Chapter 9 here:  AO3

KogKag Tag List:

@beananchzplz | @cryysis | @cynthiamaiel | @decaffeinatedfacestranger | @elohiniar | @fawn-eyed-girl | @hauntedteacakes | @iinsomiac | @liz8080 | @inu-mothership | @loveyou-x3000 | @miss-mad-scientist | @mynightshining | @neutronstarchild | @pointyobjects | @purpledadan | @rue-tea | @thepallaspalace | @tiphanylouise | @tmifangirl25 | @yokesmam | @ya-aint-born-typical

[dreamsofalifeold]

"My safeword is "Quark", because I'm physically unable to hear his name and be horny at the same time."

[theladyregret]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Forgotten Realms Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Drizzt Do'Urden/Artemis Entreri Characters: Drizzt Do'Urden, Artemis Entreri Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Anal Sex, slow burn if you consider every moment from Streams of Silver on to be the build up, takes place during The Last Threshold, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottoming from the Top, Dahlia dies with little fanfare because I hate her, just saying, Enemies to Lovers Summary:

Drizzt and Entreri come to some sudden and unexpected realizations about what they mean to each other on their way north.

[rayroseu]

"Because i want you to live a long and happy life"

[clownsuu]

Hello, Can I steal Robbie and run off into the sunset?

Is it stealing if you asked me for permission jdhdJDDUJ-

[panther-os]

op using the "you wanna go for the title" frame for the fourth one is god tier meming and you should be immensely proud of yourself

911 characters x text posts part idk

[toxintouch]

Absinthe & Sugar:

"They" pronouns used for MC, Unspecified background, no gendered language or descriptors used. WARNINGS: MDNI. Suggestive content/non-explicit smut (very little description used). MC is specified to be the receiving partner (penetration) for a round. Exact relationship dynamic is left heavily to interpretation but I'd say skip if you are sensitive to toxicity. ✦Read on Ao3.

The only difference between Leander and the Senobium is the uniforms, Vere said.

The sex isn't quite the way they intended.  Leander is eager, desperate and overly affectionate.  It rattles them, incongruent with the playboy image of a man they thought they were inviting into their bed; the casual escapade they were inclined towards doesn’t seem to be what they received.

They try to exert control—they do exert control, though it feels like a hollow facsimile at best.  He accommodates their whims, accepts and welcomes their harsh treatment even as they dig their cursed nails into his flesh, press bites against his lips when he seeks their kiss.  His eyes never seem to leave theirs, even as they parry and avoid every intimate gesture he offers them.  Their first fuck is rough—a relief—absolution and damnation in equal measure.

They’re high on adrenaline for the second, nerves singing as he sears worshipful kisses against their golden fissures, laces their fingers together with his, murmurs nonsense.

They lose count of the rest.  Their mind is lost in the heat and the sweat, the green haze they wish they could blame on liquor.  It’s a dream—feeling someone so completely, without any of their usual visceral fear.  But it’s a nightmare.  The way they tip their head back to hold back their tears and end up showing their throat, the way they swallow his whispered promises.

Leander doesn’t behave decently.  Doesn’t escort himself out afterwards.  He spends all night crowding them in bed, arms encircling them, his heavy weight trapping them against his chest.  They shove at him, weak and ineffectual, exhausted from the night's activities.  While their eyes droop, fluttering closed against their will, his stare is vibrant, an affectionate smile upon his still-wet lips.  As they drift off they feel the press of his mouth against their temple.  They tell themselves they hate it, lips too numbed with impending sleep to protest aloud.

They mean to rebuke him when they wake.  Deride his terrible etiquette as a one night stand.  Tell him he smothered them with his body heat and hogged the blanket, contradictions be damned.  They spend a long moment internally repeating what they’ll say—studying his sleeping face, the stress he carries during waking hours so obvious now that they see him not bearing the burden.  The moment slips away when he opens his eyes, words momentarily caught in their throat as they admire the color of them, as they listen to his easy pillow talk.  The curve of his smile, the crinkle of his eyes at their stilted responses.  His warm embrace.

He holds them all night only to get on his knees for them in the morning.

The pleasure is so intense, they feel like they’re about to lose their own mind.

They dig their nails into his back when he fucks them, snapping his hips in a rhythm that steals their breath away.  They hold him with the same fervor he held them.  (As if that might be the tipping point—their last ditch effort—they’ve scared away anyone they’ve ever wanted just by wanting—)

And he says it; into their ear: “I love you.”  And his voice is wrecked but he still manages to make it sound like a prison sentence.  “I love you.  I have you, I have you, you can—”

They score a punishing red line down his scarred bicep with one cursed hand, gripping his hair with the other to wrench him away, to make him look them in the face.  He groans low in his chest, eyelashes fluttering—a true masochist—but his gaze meets their own with intent.  He pauses, pulses inside of them but doesn’t come.

“Maybe I have you.”  They spit viciously, though they don’t think they do.

He’s immune to their poisonous tone like he’s immune to their curse.

But they’re weak to whatever he is.  To his soft retaliation.

They try to tug their hands away from his reaching grasp, but he doesn’t even acknowledge their resistance.  He laces his fingers with theirs, saccharine sweet, pressing the backs of their palms into the mattress.

“I’m glad,” he says tenderly.  Affectionate like he has the right, like he’s anything more or less than the worst decision they’ve ever made.  “I want to be yours.”

His absinthe green eyes seem to peer right through them.  

“And you're mine, too…aren't you…?”

The only difference between Leander and the Senobium is the uniforms.

They wonder at the fact that they listened to Vere, believed him wholeheartedly, and still did this.

[panther-os]

people always talking about how lxc recognized nmj's headless corpse by the abs but iirc in the book the corpse was wearing exactly zero clothing at all so like. there's an infinitely funnier second explanation for how he recognized him that is also infinitely more nielan if that's your thing

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

relaxation (endwalker)

(aka sometimes I must give the walnuts my friends/the people what they want. sexy times under the cut!)

[nikkxb]

What Could Have Been Update

Chapter 5

Rating: Explicit Status: In Progress Summary: Kagome wished on the jewel, but it wasn’t the right wish.

Chapter Excerpt:

“The rain is going to be clearing up soon.” Kouga’s voice rang clear through the cave, drawing her attention from where she’d been doodling in the dirt. “We should be able to return in the morning.”

Standing, Kagome stretched out her back and hips before making her way toward him, careful of the various roots and rocks until she was looking out into the forest with him.

“The temperature’s going to drop overnight,” he continued. “We might need to prepare for that before we bed down.”

Nodding, she planned out the best way to do so. While not perfectly ideal with what they currently had to work with, it would be better to tackle the ins and outs of how it would work now rather than in the middle of the night when they had to.

“Are you wanting to deal with the jewel as soon as we get back?”

 That brought her right out of her thoughts, blinking up at him as she considered the question. It had been her plan, deal with the jewel as soon as she could and get it over with, but now that it was tomorrow, everything looked a little different.

“Yes,” she answered honestly. “I don’t want to risk it drawing the attention of anything else.”

He nodded, his eyes tracking over her face. “This might be my last night with you.”

A lump formed in her throat. She’d been avoiding thinking about that possibility all day. “It might.”

“Are you worried?”

“Terrified.”

Read here:  AO3

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[dreamsofalifeold]

Hey, everyone likes what they like; some folks are into apples, some like pears, and I like being choked out behind the 7/11 on Fifth and Vine.

[vapolemon]

This will be Spore in 2010

[2p42m]

|| femmez <3

.

.

|| now playing:

> beauty queen on a silver screen, living life like i'm in a dream 💋

[blu3cl0v3rs]

Day 2: Confession | Movie-verse | Sick

Warning(s): death, mourning (?), caesar cipher, possibly bad characterization

“E?? E!” The word echoed down the brick lined street. Quick tapping of steel toed boots accompanied the repeated yells.

Morro hurriedly rushed down each backstreet, and checked over each pile of junk. His bottom lip was red from worrying it.

“FSM-damnit, ECHO?!” he shouted, and heard his voice repeat, although quieter each time.

A quiet whir of recognition returned his call.

The wind master darted towards the sound; his boots kicked up some caked dirt on the ground.

“E?! Where are yo-”

There, curled up against the graffitied wall and splayed in broken parts, laid Mr. E.

“Wh- y-” the dark haired boy stumbled over words as his fleshy disgusting solid hands hovered over the frayed wires and cracked plating.

“Damnit, I told you not to go! I- I told you, I-” his voice was as shattered as the 18 pieces the droid was left in. Vision blurred as wet wet wet tears bloomed in his eyes.

“Please- please I can’t do this without you.” Tears dripped onto Mr. E’s leather-covered finger, which had wires exposed where it should connect to the hand.

“Al oadd tw sdjayzl. Al sdosqk ak.”

As the red and white eye lights flickered into darkness, the only thing left in the sullen, grimy alleyway was the whisper of the wind, and near silent sobbing.

@ataraxixx =]