#No pressure though do whatever you want really

[necarion]

I've never quite understood why Avatar didn't have more cultural staying power. I recently went and rewatched it when it came back to theaters, and it was as amazing as I'd remembered it. The plot remained kinda dumb, but way less so than I'd remembered given the fucking endless discourse on the subject. The white savior narrative was still slightly fucked up. But, again, compared to the shit coming out of Marvel or DC, it wasn't anything to write home about. Really, it was like every single plot point was nitpicked to death, in a standard basically no other contemporary film was.

@jadagul pointed out once that he had been judging the story of Avatar on a "real movie" curve, when really it should have been considered on a "superhero movie" curve. Like, seriously, is it any dumber or more poorly written than like 2/3 of the Marvel movies in that same time period?

I think there were a couple problems here. One was that there was this really surprising anti-Cameron group that was already declaring the movie to be a failure before it came out. It was going to be environmentalist propaganda (kinda true). Or it was going to be a "chick flick" like Titanic. There was still a sizeable contingent of people who seemed to be mad at themselves for liking Titanic, despite there being a romance with Leonardo DiCaprio in it. James Cameron had made a whole bunch of amazing movies that everybody loved, but his last one had been 12 years ago, and there had been a backlash to the fact that it was as popular as it was, so many of the folks who you'd have expected to be fervent fans of the guy who made Aliens or Terminator 2 just weren't defending it.

So, the tone of discourse for the movie was "this movie is visually spectacular" and "also kinda dumb". But the community for "kinda dumb" was insanely vocal, and I remember feeling intensely peer-pressured to admit that it was "dances with smurfs" or whatever. Liking it was actually kind of uncool, even among the nerds I went to school with (even though almost everybody came out of the theater in awe). And part of the problem was, indeed, that the movie was kind of dumb. So you couldn't really defend it on those grounds, and there wasn't a pre-built constituency of Cameron fans. (For comparison, there were (and still are) rabid defenders of Snyder's much dumber, and much more offensive movies.)

So there's this dynamic already pushing the tone of coverage against the films.

But combine that with the fact that the story was basically entirely serviceable for what it was trying to do, but nothing particularly interesting to discuss. I've seen much more interesting stories, and also far worse ones, that people love to talk about. So the only thing you can really say about it is "yeah, the movie was awesome" and "holy shit this was the most beautiful movie I've ever seen.

And then you take it home and watch it on your 2D screen and it's...kind of flat and lifeless. It lost an astounding amount in that transition. So there's the DVD sales gone. Avatar was basically the leading reason in the push for 3D TVs, but those just weren't ready for primetime.

And then comes the 3D movie mini-explosion, and these mostly fell flat. Avatar had worked as well as it had because Cameron planned for it to be in 3D from the very beginning, and pushed the technology as hard as it would go. In comparison, 3D up-conversion was neat, but it really wasn't using the technology as anything other than a way to sell more expensive tickets. And this got blamed on Avatar.

And then Cameron doesn't release anything else in the Avatar universe for over a decade, so there's nothing to build on. We heard all the jokes of Avatar 2-5 (or whatever) but there wasn't really anything. Not even any bad stories that could re-ignite investment in that world.

So, through a combination of

having a story that was well-suited to show what Cameron wanted,

that was kind of dumb,

with nobody who really wanted to defend the story because it was boring and kind of dumb

a very vocal cadre of anti-Cameron fans

and then no follow-ups for over a decade

then yeah, it makes sense that not a lot of people talked about Avatar.

Of course, then Cameron decides to finally release Avatar 2, and it's way dumber. He went all-in making it a magical alien planet documentary, and seemed to totally forget to, like, have someone read through that godawful, boring script. Maybe that validates what folks have been saying about Avatar 1, but that standard can be used to invalidate a whole lot of solid films by a lot of solid directors. I think the lesson is that auteur film directors should have a competent writer on-hand who they actually listen to, and who will tell them know. But we've known that for forever.

I know very little about this film except the trans subject matter, and that it has truly appalling songs, but it's hilarious it has all those Oscar nominations when it is this disliked by the audience of the country in which it is set, and is guaranteed to be forgotten by everyone a year from now.

It made me think of that "gay, black" film Moonlight, that won Best Picture 9 years ago, and how I haven't heard a single person mention it online or offline since that year. I even had to look up "best picture winners" on Wikipedia to remember the name. But according to the academy, that was the greatest motion picture of its time. Entirely forgotten today.

Whereas, if I go back through the list another decade, there are films like The Departed and No Country For Old Men winning that award, that millions of people still love and esteem and regularly talk about and recommend to others.

Another decade earlier, it's The Silence of The Lambs, Unforgiven, Schindler's List, Forrest Gump, Braveheart, The English Patient and Titanic - again: films literally everyone still know and love today, 30 years on.

The Oscars used to be a benchmark for timeless excellence in the cinematic arts, but now The Oscars are just a measuring stick for how far Hollywood has fallen into virtue signaling, ideological propaganda, incompetence and mediocrity.

[ganondoodle]

so, after this phase of depression, i am back at too many ideas at once and getting overwhelmed by all of it bc i cant do it all and dont know how to decide which one to focus on or which ones actually good and not just a brainfart

(so, some more botw2/totk rewritten ideas-

mostly text but i am unsure what to actually work on and draw or if its even any good, so id be very happy to hear your opinion on some of this qoq)

-was thinking about designing the sonau even though they might not show up physically, to keep their mystery alive, but i am playing with the idea of a dead one preserved in crystal in a larger cave, perhaps their last stronghold, i like the thought of them being rather small monkey like creatures with long tails that end in a light fern looking thing

--been also thinking more about the ancient queen zeldas and ganondorfs relationship bc i feel its compelling for them to have had a much more personal grudge agaisnt each other than i previously planned, gives more weight to everything-

though it is mostly background stuff that is not directly shown in the game, except for environmental storytelling -which botw was pretty good at- and diary entries you can discover (perhaps finding it and then telling riju and a gerudo researcher about it since it would be in ancient script zelda hadnt encountered before?), current thought was to have there be a secret lair that one of ganondorfs daughters used to live in after the sealing disaster sent both kingdoms into conflict, and with their mother dying in battle the eldest daughter would surrender and agree to whatever the princess of hyrule demanded, while the younger one would not bow down and those that followed her split off to live in the gerudo highlands, like another reoccuring theme with this being the prescursor to what happens with the shiekah and yiga later- of those are none left by this time (or should there?) and the diary of the younger daughter talks about her fathers secret hideout having being sealed shut as a sign of respect- it is inaccessible due to the structures beign damaged, but its serving as a hint there will be more; it will be made accessible after the mid game fight with ganondorf, in which you see the scene of the sealing, and he changes his position from hyrule castle that fell into the underground to the innards of the plateau- that being the final dungeon- in his room, might also be a part of his diary, at least from his younger days, and a bracelet of obviously hyrulian origin, which is meant to imply-

that the ancient queen zelda and him were in love once when they were both younger, though neither really acted on it (noble families pressures and conflictions yippie) until it was decided she would be married to a young knight of a noble hyrulian family, as it had been per tradition, after which they would not be able to visit each other anymore in the way they sued to as her father wanted her to prepare to take the throne and was way more strict than before, with one last meeting in that secret chamber and her leaving a bracelet there as a gift-

now heres the problem i ran into, that they had feelings for each other and used to be very close, as well as both having their own families later on is pretty solid and i want to keep all that but i also randomly thought about weaving the drama further (in that noble families kind of way especially, though again this would only be mentioned in his diary entry from the secret room you unlock, and since his younger daughter doesnt mention anything at all save for makign a point about not rummaging through her late fathers things out of her deep respect for him, its pretty clear she didnt know and neither did anyone else except for ganondorf himself and perhaps his mothers, this is all meant to make all of these characters have more depth even with getting little to literal no screentime, not to be a big focus)- so there was the stray idea of the ancient queen having a daughter 'just' after being married to that hyrulian knight.. and it being obviously not his, but gerudo, as gerudo traits are rather dominant(i think?) and the knight and ganondorf look nothing alike, so to avoid any sort of royal disaster that daughter would be secretly given to ganondorf to raise instead (which he would gladly do), and the official story being it was stillborn (the whole thing being worked out by a few maids sworn loyally to their queen .. im torn about the queen herself knowing or not tbh or if that even matters in the grand scheme of things (though i do like the idea of her knowing but acting like it is nothing to live up to being a wise and proud queen now thats shes under that pressure, she would change alot during her time of reign, going from that more typical unsure of herself but trying her best princess to a self confident cold and calculating queen, maybe he could even make a short remark about it), again this is still just vaguely implied background details most wouldnt even find out about, i just .. like to think about the background of things that make sense and give more weight to it all but arent what it revolves around and its neither essential to know, might as well be one of those things people would likely hear about in youtube videos)

i didnt find or dont know if theres any rule that princess zelda cant have siblings (i think she had a brother once but idk that may be different about sisters is the question) bc ganondorfs older daughter then not awakening any special (zelda reserved) powers could be simply bc she wasnt trained to do so (perhaps she would be able to hear things like zeldas often do but that too being only mentioned offhand) and him just not putting any focus on royal hyrulian traditions, it could be a secret rite too and honestly .. why would he try to train her to be the traditional princess of hyrule, awakening powers that are reserved for the hyrulian royals would make everything go haywire in terms of the secret about her mother, though im worried it would seem like her being gerudo is seen as 'tainted' instead, like she isnt a 'real' or 'pure' zelda and that being the reason, which somethign i do not like at all

either way that second part is purely an idea that i am 50/50 about using since its really not a big deal in the end and ultimately doesnt change much except make their relationship a bit more messier

---ahem, anyway, i also decided i wanted to model most sky islands after this one photo in my collection since it looks cool and would make sense to have these island be worn down by constant winds

---- i also want to flood the tabantha canyon with the forgotten temple and considered actually breaking of some pieces of landmass, like it is now a giant island, imagine akkala a kilometer away from the mainland for example, it wouldnt inherently change much about the structure but it would make it feel alot more different and provide good ground for different kinds of interactions since the people there would need to adjust to that, you can melt ice around the riot region easier than you can reattach a broken off giant piece of land after all

[f4ilure-idol]

can i spam you r inbox?

Of course :3

[non-un-topo]

Propaganda below

Summerwind

I'm considering this fic a sort of practice for an original novel I will never write. It's very heavy on the original characters and the headcanons of course, being a story about Yusuf and Nicolo and their families that spans from 1074-1099. I've mapped it out to around 7 or 8 chapters, though this could change. I'm putting a lot of historical research into it, so it's been kind of a passion-project. Will get violent and all that good dark stuff, but is also quite emotional at times. It switches POV between Yusuf and Nicolo (but I promise I will get you to fall in love with at least one of the family members). I will say I can't promise a lot of romance, as I'm expecting to end it shortly after their first deaths, besides a smidge of one-sided infatuation (guess which side hehe). We know what happens to them after 1099 anyway, lol. They live happily ever after for 900+ years.

Fool's Gold

This one has needed a ton of rewriting and still might, but it's slowly getting there. There's a bit of a mystery, though I wouldn't say it's the main genre. The QQ are fleeing an accidental crime (thank Quynh), conning their way south until they stop in Tripura, starving and penniless and full of lice. As with my other QQ mysteries, they get roped into some tense affairs that shouldn't concern them. There's a European woman who's set up a mining operation on the territory, for reasons unknown to the locals. She's promising a huge reward, though, for the person who can find this unnamed thing she's searching for. There's also a very sick population who needs the money. The QQ split up in this, and the POV switches between them all. There's conning and aliases, alchemy (well, not really, but Yusuf is pretty convincing), lepers, a badass little girl and her bratty brother you'll want to kill, and there's a slightly heavier focus on Quynh.

[spearxwind]

I was reading your tags on that one post about how you wish you could cull your follower count and uh… would it help if I unfollowed? I know I’m just one person but I thought I’d offer just in case….

oh, please dont do that! its very sweet of you to offer, but genuinely don't worry about it :]

I think a significant chunk of my follower count is things like bots or abandoned accounts, especially remnants from when i first joined, or people who followed me for fandoms and then ignore everything else i ever post (not that thats a complaint, mind you)

Also something that comes with having a large following is that some people who follow me will put me on a pedestal, and then try to make a big stink out of not 100% aligning with me, or people will outright be scared/intimidated by me, or they will think that because I have a large following they can just be mean or hold me to arbitrary standards or are entitled to things i post, its all honestly just really tiring. With the passing of time ive gotten a bit more harsh in setting my boundaries with these things, and i shut them down asap

and my following isnt even THAT huge, either. I cannot imagine what it must be like at higher numbers. I hope i never find out

Those are the kinds of people i was thinking about when I wrote the tags

its kind of a difficult situation, in general. I dont want to seem ungrateful, but numbers have a big hold on people, and ive generally found im much happier just considering myself a guy who posts things for a bunch of fellow freaks who enjoy it

[repurposedmeatlocker]

I find it extremely discouraging how a lot of the time art uploaded to be seen online becomes influenced under the constraints of monetary gain and attention.

It feels like value is placed more on what would be most successful within a wide-reaching audience rather than actual care and intention put behind the work one does.

I think this explains why a lot of art, even by really skilled artists I admire, sometimes end up becoming empty and overly similar to each other.

[genderfluid-druid]

dropping thoughts like laundry into the aromanticism washing machine and watching them spin. taking little notes in a fancy journal titled "greyro??" and crossing them out, but then going back and scribbling an addendum. holding up an extravagant glass beaker full of a cool bubbling potion and peering at it through safety glasses that say "mind the amatonormativity!"

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Doting

Tags: jjk men as dads, tooth-rotting fluff, comfort drabbles

Synopsis: How the JJK men treat you while pregnant (spoiler warning- they dote on you.)

An: This is my formal apology for writing Nanami angst on the “Baby’s first words” post 😔 it will never happen again (can we stop with the death threats now?)

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI

SATORU

Oh, your loving husband is all over you while you’re pregnant. He genuinely has such a cute fascination with all the changes your body is going through. He seriously thinks you’re so strong for carrying his heir.

He loves rubbing your bump. In fact, he will always be touching it in some form or fashion while you two are together. When he’s away on missions, he has you send him pictures and updates on your pregnancy as if anything major has changed in a couple of days.

You best believe he is ready to indulge you on your every craving, no matter how strange. It’s three a.m and you’re crying because you need that specific brand of chicken wings and a can of whip cream? He’s heading to the store immediately to fetch whatever you tell him to.

He genuinely worries about being a good dad. Many nights he lays his head on your bump and talks to you about how teaching didn’t come naturally to him. He wasn’t born knowing how to meet people where they’re at. He use to expect people to be able to meet him on his level. He worries that he may inadvertently put a lot of pressure on his kid, and that’s the last thing he wants due to how he was raised. He just wants his kid to be a kid.

He’s the best, most loving and compassionate dad to your baby, more than you could ever hope for. Even if teaching didn’t come to him naturally, being a father did.

SUGURU

He’s such a “sit down and let me do it for you” while you’re pregnant. He cooks, cleans, works, and tends to you completely throughout your pregnancy.

Suguru gets hyper fixated on your health during pregnancy. He only feeds you the yummiest and healthiest foods while you’re pregnant. He encourages for you to sit on the yoga ball and do (very) light exercises. He just wants the best for you and his baby.

Whenever I said he tends to you, I genuinely mean he tends to you. He’ll gently brush your hair at night time, rub your back when your belly is becoming heavy to carry around, serve your breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed, carries around emesis bags and breath mints for if you get morning sickness while you two are out.

This man is the king of enforcing your boundaries to people when they don’t listen. That really annoying family member that insists on being there for the birth even though you’ve already explained to them that you want this to be an experience for just you and Geto? Yeah, he’s made it very clear to them that they will not be at the birth if they want to be in your kid’s life.

He is absolutely not afraid to hurt feelings if it means his wife and future child are safe and cared for. He really don’t give a fuck who anyone else is. You and his child are first priority.

TOJI

Toji is definitely the type to express his love and devotion for you in other ways than the most conventional methods.

He is so incredibly gentle while you’re pregnant. He doesn’t rile you up as much or play fight with you anymore. He constantly reminds himself that you’re carrying another life inside you and that you have enough on your plate.

This man… whew does he love seeing you pregnant. Toji’s the type of man to feel so feral when he looks at you heavily pregnant with his kid.

He adores your body. He’ll rub lotion all over you and oils to help your skin accommodate to the stretch of carrying a kid. He massages your body and absolutely worships it while he’s rubbing the lotion and oil on you.

Your breasts are sore? He’ll gently massage them until they feel better. Your back hurts? He’d be the type to lift your bump up and take the weight off you for as long as you ask him to so you can feel relaxed for a few minutes.

And look this is probably TMI but like, if you got a clogged milk duct due to breastfeeding, Toji would unfortunately be the type of man to fix that issue with his mouth. i’m sorry but he would.

Final thing is, you better believe that he doesn’t allow anyone to get too close to you. He is so unbelievably protective over you while you’re pregnant. If he could, he’d lock you up at home to prevent anyone from getting close to you.

SUKUNA

On the outside, he acts very nonchalant and unbothered by your pregnancy. On the inside, he is constantly plagued by the thought that your body may not be able to carry his heir. The thought of losing you or his child haunts him.

He will secretly observe and take notes on your body and how it is changing. If he catches you expressing any sort of short windedness, he will immediately send you off to bed rest. Though, you’re usually able to convince him to take you off of it by the next day.

The only servant he trusts to tend to you is Uraume. No one else in his court is allowed to be anywhere near you unless he gives specific instructions. Still, he hates leaving you in the care of Uraume. He trusts them, but he wants to be the one to take care of you.

He loves holding your body close to him at night. All four arms are wrapped around you and holding you closely. Since he doesn’t need much sleep, he will stay awake rubbing on your tummy all night long. One time, he felt the baby moving in your stomach while you were asleep. He was so intrigued that he woke you up and told you to “make them do it again”.

Now, he will randomly approach you at any given time while you’re heavily pregnant and hold his hand out so he can feel his baby moving around inside of you. It soothes his worry.

During birth, Sukuna was a complete mess. The amount of blood lost during birth fucking terrified him. He was panicking and yelling at anyone to do something to save you, even while everyone was assuring him that you’re okay and this was natural.

After 9 long excruciating months of extreme worry and constant fear, he finally feels peace when he’s cradling a newborn in his arm and a sleeping wife in the other arm. All of his hard work to protect you paid off he thinks.

NANAMI

Oh, to be pregnant by the king of domestic love himself.

Nanami is the type of man to immediately start working on a nursery for you as soon as you reveal to him that you’re pregnant. He immediately changes the guest bedroom into a nursery that you design for your little baby.

He reads up on all the parenting books and articles. He’s constantly compiling things to either do or to not do during pregnancy and even while raising a kid.

Like Geto, he tends to your every need. He is a total house husband all while working 40 hours a week. When he’s at work, he is constantly calling and texting you to make sure that you’re okay and taking care of yourself, but let’s be fr he literally did everything for you before he even left for work (meal prepped for you, set out your clothes for you, put out all your self care items in case you want to bathe).

When you express concerns of your body getting bigger to him, he does everything in his power to show you that he loves and respects your body for creating life. He literally cherishes and worships your body for hours if you let him.

Like Toji, Nanami is protective over you. He constantly has an arm around you if you two are in public, and he watches everyone who dares to get close to you like a hawk. If he gets a bad vibe about anyone, he’s immediately stepping in front of you and taking over the conversation.

Nanami is the best partner to have during birth. His reading of articles during your pregnancy really paid off. He is supportive without being overbearing. He listens to your needs and tends to you without question. Constant praise and encouragement while you’re giving birth. The moment he gets to snuggle with you and the baby is the moment he realizes that he cultivated the life of his dreams. He has the family he always wanted.

[reignpage]

Dog-Eat-Dog World

Synopsis: what life is like with Siberian husky hybrid!Gojo Warnings: 18+ mdni, porn with a little plot, fluffy, cursing, dubcon, established relationship, cunnilingus, blowjob, 69, boobjob, rimming, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, switch!Gojo, backshots, spitting, mention of somnophilia, possessiveness, creampie, knotting, not proofread Word Count: 4.9k

Dating Husky!Gojo means there are rarely ever any quiet moments. He talks a lot. In fact, he never seems to stop. He could talk your ear off about anything. And he certainly does try. 

“Y’know, squirrels can be categorised into three types. There are ground squirrels, tree squirrels and flying squirrels. Have you ever seen a flying squirrel? I saw one once and it was so ugly. It had these weird flaps and they look like little rats with wings. Tree squirrels are pretty common. You see them all the time, right? Yeah, there’s no way you’ve never seen a tree squirrel; they’re everywhere.”

Sighing, you ruffle his hair as he lies on your lap, staring up at you with those big blue eyes. Eyes fluttering close, he makes a low growl of appreciation, tilting his head so you can get to that spot by his erect ear that makes his leg twitch. 

“Hmm, I love when you scratch me there. You do it really well, y’know? Like, really really well. No one scratches better than you. I’ve tried myself but it’s never the same.” He barks a sudden laugh. “It kinda sounds like I’m talking about something else, doesn’t it?”

Something on the TV catches his attention and he tenses up, head tilting and ears flickering to focus all his energy on the curiosity on screen. But then your nails scrape his scalp, and his eyes are rolling back. He falls down onto your lap and gives you a lopsided grin. 

“Sorry. What was I saying? Oh, right. You scratch so good. You could scratch me all day and I wouldn’t ever ask you to stop. If you scratched me for the rest of my life, I would never get bored. Do you want to test that out?”

With a soft smile, you reply, “I don’t think that’s possible, Toru. I have to work, and I can’t take you with me, can I?”

He grumbles, “No, I guess you can’t. But I’m rich. Or rather, my family is, so you don’t have to work anymore, you can just stay with me all day, every day, forever! I get it though, so you don’t need to give me the lecture about independence and the important of keeping busy. I just want to be with you all the time! I hate being alone and waiting for you to come home. You take forever. It’s like a whole eternity passes.”

Husky!Gojo loves being on your lap for reasons other than being able to rest as you give him head scratches. No, he likes how close he is to the source of the best smell he’s ever smelt in his entire life. He loves it so much, sometimes he focuses more on the apex of your thighs than whatever’s playing on the TV. 

He shifts his head so he can press his nose right there, burying deeper until he can take long inhales and let your scent engulf his very being. His ears are perked up and his tail is wagging excitedly. 

“Satoru, what are you doing?”

He whines at the strict tone of your voice, and with guilty eyes he peers up at you, wincing once he sees your raised brow. His ears lie flat, tail slowing to a halt, and he stretches his neck ever so slightly to bare more of that long length. 

“It’s not my fault,” he mutters. “You just smell so nice. Can’t I just sniff you for a little longer? I won’t go further, I swear!”

You roll your eyes. You know if you don’t give in now then he’ll badger you relentlessly until you eventually do. Plus, it’s not as if you were impervious to the pressure of his nose against your clit, through your shorts. 

And when you shift under his head, he knows he’s won. 

In a clumsy flurry, he’s flying off the sofa, kneeling between your legs and gripping onto the plush of your thighs to spread them. When he sees that wet spot he’s been manifesting, his ears perk up once more and you can hear the way his tail is swishing on the cold floor. 

“You always play hard to get and yet we always end up just like this,” he growls, amusement sparkling in his sky-blue eyes. Then, he dives in, using his paws to tear apart your shorts and panties in one swift move. His long, slobbery tongue lolls out and he’s licking from quivering hole to twitching clit. Your hips jolt. “Oh, you taste so good. I love you so much. God, I missed your pussy. It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve gotten to say hello.”

It’s embarrassing how wet you got and how quickly, but the way he’s lapping up your juices so eagerly makes you forget all about shame. There are very few things better than the way he lays his tongue flat against your clit, allowing you to hump it for a couple seconds before he gets impatient and rolls the little bud around, loving the way sweat is beading down your thighs, making it difficult to get gripping on your warm flesh. 

“Ngh! Toru!” You exclaim. There’s a delicious tingling emanating from your pussy as he laps your essence repeatedly, desperately, like it’s all he’s ever wanted. “Slow down!”

Husky!Gojo ignores you. Instead, he slides his wet, fat tongue all over your tasty pussy with restless abandon — there’s no rhyme or rhythm, it doesn’t even seem like he cares about your pleasure, he’s only seeking to taste every drop of what you’re willing to give him. 

“I love your pussy so much,” he moans against your slit, the vibrations making your back tense. “I want to stay between your legs forever. Can I? Can I? Please?”

When you don’t reply, too lost in the pleasure, he snorts and spreads your cunt with his fingers instead, needing to feel more of your sloppy pussy. It’s dripping, practically oozing with your juice and he thinks he’s in heaven. He licks and slurps and probes your tight opening with his long tongue, snaking it inside. 

“Wait! Satoru!” You thread your fingers through his fluffy hair, nails scraping against a sensitive spot, and he growls. 

“Hey! No fair! You’re trying to distract me!” His voice is muffled, and his canine accidentally nudges the underside of your clit. You clench down on his tongue, and he gets even more irritated. It’s so unfair how, even without trying, you’re making his cock throb so terribly in his pants. 

Seeking revenge, he rubs your clit, matching the tempo of your moans, rubbing it in furious circles with his thumb. You cum hard. “Oh, Toru! Fuck! Fuck! Soooo goooood!”

You’re creaming down on his tongue and the sweet taste is making him lose his mind. He slurps at your entrance even faster, licking wide and wet strokes all over, even at the creases of your thighs, spreading your juices and his saliva where he can reach, perhaps unknowingly or perhaps because he wants to make you remember how good he made you feel when your thighs stick together.

“That’s enough, Toru! I can’t take anymore!”

Husky!Gojo ignores you again. He’s still licking, alternating between flickering the tip of his tongue on your adorable clit and thrusting it inside your pussy, curling the appendage up at your walls. Your legs are shaking and he’s trying to keep you still, lest you ruin his favourite meal. 

“Oh! Oh! Satoru, fuuuuck!” 

You push away from him, nails digging into the armrest, but he’s still licking at your clamped thighs, skimming along your ass and you practically have to shove at his head. 

Minutes later, when your consciousness returns to you, you dare look at him, still kneeling, tail wagging and with a shameful layer of shiny juice dripping down his chin. He tilts his head tauntingly. A cocky grin on his face, he asks:

“Did I do good?”

Husky!Gojo is very energetic. He loves to go to the park and run wild. Of course, it’s not uncommon to see hybrids like him enjoy nature, but up North, where you’re stuck in a perpetual season of winter, it seems like he’s the only one who prefers to be outside than inside, where it’s warm and cozy. 

For the nth time in a row, you throw the neon yellow tennis ball as far as you can, watching your boyfriend chase after it with excited giggles. He’s a little clumsy, what with his long limbs and tall body, but he’s pretty quick. Following the ball, he snatches it in his hand before he runs back to you, pride glinting in his eyes. 

“Did you see how fast I got that? Wasn’t that faster than last time? Do you think I can go faster? I think I can go faster. No, I definitely can go faster. Watch. Make sure you’re watching, okay?”

You laugh at his serious pout before you throw the ball and watch him leap for it. Despite how cold it is, he never seems to bother with anything more than a hoodie and shorts. Whereas you’re wrapped up in a thick coat, scarf, beanie and gloves, and it still doesn’t feel like enough. You’re slightly jealous of his immunity to the weather but you aren’t of his energy. 

Simply observing his limitless enthusiasm makes you feel sleepy. But your boyfriend needs daily exercise otherwise he moans and groans until it becomes your problem. He needs to run around or else he’s clawing at the walls, pulling at your shirt and whining in your ears. Once, you told him to just go without you, and well let’s just say, you had to make him buy you five new pairs of shoes after his tantrum.

“That’s your boyfriend? He’s an energetic thing, isn’t he?” A man pipes up beside you. 

You hadn’t noticed his approach, but he looks harmless enough. You give him a polite smile. “Yeah, he’s fun.”

“You live around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” 

“Oh, well you know, I’m not very social.”

“My wife’s just like you. She doesn’t like the cold very much and we’ve been having discussions about going down South, for the kids. That’s them over there.” Just as he points out, there are children playing tag with your boyfriend, giggling with him as he playfully pretends, they’re too fast for him. “My only concern is, the South isn’t as accepting of hybrids as here. And I don’t want my kids to face any kind of trouble.”

Giving him a sympathetic smile, you can’t say much more. Whilst there are laws protecting hybrids and most people are generally very accepting, there are still close-minded individuals who make life difficult for anyone who’s different. You wonder when that will change. 

“Who are you?”

Satoru has returned, tennis ball being squeezed in his hand as he eyes the stranger. He sniffs the air, assessing whether he’s a threat or not. His ears are pricked forward and tense, as is the rest of his body. He’s ready to attack. 

“He’s just a neighbour.” You give the nice stranger an apology, appreciating the understanding nod he gives you, before you pull your boyfriend away. 

Husky!Gojo is quiet the walk back home. He doesn’t say a word even as you attempt conversation, doesn’t react when you pat him on the back, not even when you tell him you’ll let him do karaoke as loud as he wants; he can be very petulant when he wants to be. 

But once inside, the door clicking into place, he pounces on you. He buries his face into your neck and makes a disgusted sound at the back of his throat.

“You smell like him. I hate it.”

He doesn’t waste any time in tearing off your clothes, even as you’re lying on the cold, hard floor naked. You know better than to argue when he gets in these moods — he needs to feel safe again, and you’ll let him do whatever it takes to do so. 

Fishing his already hard cock out, you’re amazed to find him red and leaking; he must have been imagining all the ways he could re-mark his territory on the way back. 

“I hate sharing you with anyone else,” he mumbles, giving himself one, two, jerks before he’s inching forward to lay the hot and heavy thing between your tits. He likes the sight of his almost transparent cum already wetting your skin, the way your nipples are pebbled and you’re completely at his mercy. “You’ll take care of me, won’t you? You’re the best owner, right? You’re not going to abandon me like this?”

“Of course not, Toru. Take what you want, sweetheart. Make me yours.”

Satoru growls, baring his sparkling white teeth before he paws at your tits, pushing them together so his cock is squeezed perfectly between them. He moans at the softness, thumb flicking your nipple like he can’t help himself. 

He makes quick, shallow thrusts, and you kind of hate how he’s fully clothed — you can’t see the way his abs tense, whereas he can see every part of your body. Somehow, that makes you feel tingly down there. 

His salty scent fills the hot air between you, and when you look down your chest, the sight of his red, hot cock disappearing and appearing between your tits elicits a moan from you. The slit is constantly leaking searing cum which he uses to slide better. In a teasing mood, you stretch your tongue out and poke at it when he emerges.

“Ngh! More! Lick me more!” He orders.

Head thrown back, he’s squeezing your breasts harder together, pinching your nipples sporadically. You obey him just this once, puckering your lips so you can suckle at the head when it nears your face. The salty liquid is strong, and you don’t have to touch your pussy to know you’re leaking just as much as he is. 

“You’re mine. Say it! Baby, I need you to say it. Please? Oh, fuck! I don’t want to cum until you say it.”

Amused, you throw him a bone, suckling particularly hard, right before you say, “I’m yours always, forever, Satoru.”

He cums pretty quickly after that. Hot spurts of that almost clear cum paints your face in streaks, dripping down your cheeks onto the floor. It’s going to be a pain to clean but neither of you care. Satoru heaves above you, flicking your nipples as his way of saying ‘thank you’.

The sight of your face and chest covered in his cum quickly hardens his softening cock once more and he grins at you. “I can smell how wet you are, sweet cheeks. You’re making a puddle on the floor. Now, who’s the messy one? Guess, I’ll have to take one for the team and get started on cleaning, yeah?”

Husky!Gojo likes to sixth-nine. There’s something about giving and receiving pleasure simultaneously that has his tail wagging.

Spinning around, he dives his face into your pussy, bending your legs back so he can have full access to everything. He’s slurping again -- he really does love to make that noise. Annoyingly, he begins motorboating your pussy, flicking his head side to side in a rapid pace just because he can. 

You can’t let him have all the fun. 

So, when he dangles his cock over your lips, smearing his salty cum all over it, you don’t hesitate to suck him in, relaxing your throat so he can push in further whilst you fondle his balls. Already, there’s a hard knot forming at the base of his cock. You’ve grown very familiar with it. Circling your tongue around Satoru’s flared, tapered tip, you also run a teasing finger along the knot. 

He thrusts down your throat and sucks at your clit harder. You both moan together. His tail is tickling your forehead as he waggles it in the air with frantic shakes like he doesn’t even realise he has such a big tell, revealing how he’s feeling at every given moment.

Cupping his heavy balls, you massage the warm sacks, imagining all the cum he’s got stored for you. Satoru makes small, humping motions, abandoning your cunt as he chases his pleasure. It’s all too much for him. Your mouth is so steamy, so tightyou’re your scent is attacking his senses. And just as your finger wanders upwards, beyond his knot and his balls, and to that puckered hole, just skimming the edge, he cums in your mouth, spraying down your throat with his salty essence.

“No! T-that’s so unfair! Y-you can’t just do that without -ngh- giving me a heads up,” he complains through his orgasm.

Soon after, he makes you cum on his tongue. He lapped up your dripping pussy, digging deep to taste all of your cream, and thumbing at your clit the way that you like as he stretched out your pussy with his tongue. And when, he too ventured beyond, tongue sliding down your slit and to your puckered hole, your legs wrapped around his head. 

“Satoru!”

“Not so fun now, is it?” He tried to taunt, but he was distracted by the taste of you. “Why haven’t I done this sooner? Ugh, you’re always so mean, keeping things away from me. Hope you learn your lesson, you mean baby.”

He inched his way in ever so slightly, rubbing incessant circles around your clit, and growling at the splash of cum he felt all over his face as you fell victim to his need to even the scales. 

Lying in a heap of sweaty bodies, heavy limbs, and mixed juices, he holds you in his arms, face buried in your neck as he rumbles, satisfied that you smell like him and only him. 

“I hate that park now. Let’s never go there again.”

“Whatever you say, Toru.”

Husky!Gojo is a pain in the ass. He follows you around everywhere and he doesn’t understand boundaries. 

When you get up from the sofa to go to the kitchen, he’s right behind you. He doesn’t even need anything, not a cup of water or a snack. He’s pressed so closely to your back, he becomes your shadow.

Even when you leave the bed in the middle of the night to pee, you don’t need to look up to know he’s standing in the threshold, sleepy eyes squinting at the bright lights, and fuzzy tail swishing lazily behind him. 

“Hurry back,” he demands. “I’m sleepy.”

“Then go to sleep, Satoru. There’s no need to follow me.”

He pouts at that, ears lying flat. And then he’s whimpering. It’s high-pitched and annoying and he knows it. He does it on purpose, knowing that you can’t stand the noise, and it’ll make you rush to get back into bed after washing your hands. 

“Alright, alright. Don’t be a dick.”

Satoru always gets what he wants.

Then, once you’re settled, he’s throwing himself over you, pinning you to the bed and acting as if he can’t hear your muffled complaints. He does it mostly because he wants to keep you close, because he loves the feel of your softness lulling him to sleep. But he also does it to make sure you can’t escape again. 

“Night night!”

Husky!Gojo is a hungry little thing. He’s never satisfied with his own food. No, he scarfs his plate down and then eyes yours. On his face is an expression of complete innocence but you know better. 

“No, Satoru. This is my food.”

Tilting his head, he blinks at you, confused. “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” you counter. 

He laughs. “You’re always so suspicious. I’m just watching you eat because I love everything about you. Can’t I do that? Is it not a free country anymore?”

Sighing, you stop arguing with him, but when a noise behind catches your attention, you make the mistake of looking back. You don’t hear him move but you know he has. So, when you hesitantly turn back around, you’re not surprised to find your plate empty and he’s sporting a lopsided grin, full of pride and amusement.

“I’m going to kill you,” you threaten. 

Satoru laughs again.

Husky!Gojo has very keen senses. He can hear when you’re coming back home before you even show up at the door. He can sniff out where your keys are, where you’ve left your phone, and somehow know when it’s going to rain. He can hear higher pitches than you, and he makes fun of you for it. 

“You can’t hear that? Seriously, it’s so loud. Are you messing with me? Baby, are you? Because there’s no way you can’t hear that. Should we go to the doctors? I’m worried for you.”

More often than not, he’s deathly serious, and he’s so concerned over your weak senses, as if one day they’ll be the death of you. But once in a while, when you catch him biting back a smirk at your furrowed brows and straining ears, you know he got you. 

“Ow! Ow! You’re so aggressive when you’re being teased. Yeah, okay, I admit, that was a lie. There’s no sound. But there could have been, and you wouldn’t have heard it with your tiny little human ears. Oh, you’re so cute!”

Husky!Gojo has a sixth sense for when you’re extra needy. He can tell when you’re ovulating and it’s embarrassing. He knows before you do. Every time. 

Just lounging casually on the sofa, a peaceful calm blankets over you, watching the snow fall from the sky outside. You’re scrolling on your phone, failing to notice, until it’s too late, his approach. His ears and nose are twitching and he’s eyeing your crotch like it’s a curious thing. He creeps up your legs, firm hands kneading your thighs in what seems like a simple massage before his face is burrowing itself in your pussy. 

“Satoru! What on Earth are you doing?”

He peers up at you like it’s obvious. Taking a deep whiff, he nods like there’s no doubt about it. “You’re ovulating.”

“So?”

Rolling his eyes, he explains, “So, you’re going to need my services to satisfy this hungry cunt.”

Spluttering about his silly logic, you’re powerless against his determined hands, pulling down your pyjama bottoms until you’re bare for him. And then he’s eating you out once more. 

He really loves to do that. He does it whenever he wants — when you’ve just gotten back from work, fresh from the shower, whilst you’re cooking, and even when you’re sleeping. Sometimes he does it not to make you cum but just to taste you, like it’s his favourite pastime.

Suffice to say, it’s no challenge for him to make you cum within minutes, leaving you a sticky mess beneath him. And when your pussy have been stretched enough on his fingers and his tongue, he finds no issue sliding inside whilst you’re barely conscious and having no energy to remind him to wear a condom. 

Husky!Gojo hates those things. 

Once Satoru feels your warm walls, his instincts take over. He drives his cock inside, spearing you. It’s stealing your breath, the stretch making your jaw drop and he licks your lips in an apology for the sudden pain. 

“Aw, baby. I’m sorry. Take deep breaths, okay. Then it’ll feel good again. It’s alright. Toru’s got you.”

The pain’s receding and pure pleasure is washing over you instead. Satoru is giving you the fucking of your life, and maybe this ovulation period really is making your cunt hungrier than usual, because you quickly wrap around your legs around him, pulling him deeper. 

He makes a low noise of approval. “That’s right, sweet thing. You’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?”

You can feel his cock head rubbing against that spongy spot, you’re left reeling, making desperate gasps for air, and he’s grinning at you. He thinks it’s hilarious how reluctant you were before but now all you can think about is cock. His cock and how he’s making you feel so good. 

Satoru can’t decide between staring at your bouncing breasts or the way your pussy is sucking him in, leaving his cock shiny with your juices. Your clit is exposed, and, without much thought, he spits a fat glob onto it, watching the way it twitches so adorably. 

Then, as if he’s tired of foreplay, he tears off your clinging limbs and spins you around, wrangling you into his favourite position. Now, you’re on your knees, a hand on your back forcing you down into an almost painful arch. This way he can see everything and when he slides back in, he swears he goes even deeper, his tip kissing your cervix when he bottoms out. 

“Oh, Toru! Too deep! I c-can’t.”

He shushes you. “You can and you will. You have before, remember, baby? You love it when I fuck you from behind, don’t you?”

Soon, his relentless pummelling begins again, his heavy balls smacking against your clit, setting your nerves alight. He reaches below, one hand pressing down on that bulge in your lower stomach and the other twisting a nipple between his fingers. Satoru sees the light sheen of sweat on your back and he licks a stripe up your spine. 

“Every part of you tastes so good. How is that even -ha- possible?” He growls. 

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Instead, you beg, “Harder, Toru! Fuck me harder!”

And so, he does, he drills his pulsing cock inside, rubbing your clit as he pounds you over and over again, forcing your body to dive forward on the sofa, head hanging over the armrest. He’s stretching you out so much you almost can’t believe that he’s really in there, so when you examine your poor, sloppy pussy with your fingers, you can only whimper when you feel his cock undeniably hammering inside. 

“Told you this pussy’s gonna -ha- want me to fill her up. Now, who looks silly?”

You also feel the knot making its way in deeper with every thrust and you’re scared. How you manage to take it in every time is beyond you.

You forcibly cum — there’s no way you can’t, not when he’s meeting every sensitive spot inside and outside of your pussy, not when his delirious moans and groans is filling your head like a drug. Through your orgasm, he fucks you like you’re nothing but a wet hole, degrading and humiliating you for his own pleasure. 

“Satoru! No more! I can’t take anymore!”

“Nah, just a little -ha- more, baby, please? Take it all for me, okay? I need -ngh- you to take it all. Can’t be that -oh- hard if you’ve done it so many times before, can it?” He laughs, breathy and strained.

Your orgasm sparked in your womb, flaring out to your clit and your tits until your legs begin to tremble and you’re a shaking mess beneath him. And just as you’re about to give out, he holds your hips steady and slams his entire length inside of you, shoving that fat knot in and you’ve never felt so full.

“Fuck! You’re so tight. Oh God, I love you so much. I love you I love you I love you!”

His cum sprays inside of you, cock throbbing along with the pulsing clenches of your walls. His knot swells up, ballooning and stretching you out even more. Your pussy spams as he fills your womb with his cum. There’s so much of it and as he plugs you in, you can’t imagine there’s any space left inside of you. 

“Tell me I’m a good boy, baby please. Tell me I’m fucking you good. Please, I need it!”

Groggily, you managed to say a muffled, “You’re such a good boy, Toru. Always so good for me. My best boy.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” He whimpers. He’s not even talking to you, you’re pretty sure. He has a tendency to get so lost in the pleasure he genuinely believes you and your pussy are separate entities. “I love you so much. God, I want to stay inside forever.”

Husky!Gojo slumps against you, pinning you down again. You’re still skewered on his long, fat cock, the knot there keeping you joined for what feels like forever. Both of your bodies are sticky with sweat and mixed juices. But he doesn’t care, in fact, he loves it. He’s making lazy swipes of your neck and your face with his tongue. 

“Was I good? Did I do good?”

You wind an arm back, seeking out his fluffy hair, and once you feel its softness, you scratch him behind his ear, hearing his tail whack the sofa in rapid pats. “Yes, Toru, you were good.”

He huffs proudly at that. 

You’re still trying to catch your breath, trying to reorient yourself, and in the distance, you can feel the soreness that will creep in, but you don’t mind it. It’s hard to care when Satoru feels so warm and strong over you, encasing you in his love to shelter you from the cold as you both watch the snow continue to fall through the steam fogging up the glass. 

“We’ve got probably around twenty minutes before this thing goes down,” he mutters. “Wanna play I spy?”

[transzilla]

How To Suck Roid Clit and Tdick Like A 6Gal Bauer ShopVac

So I'm a trans man and I fucking love trans men and they love fucking me. I minored in t4t gay sex in college and giving head has always came very naturally to me as a specialty, administering orgasms has never been an issue but a lot of people have difficulty figuring tdick out after going on testosterone or figuring themselves out and don't know how to get dudes to pop off which is tragic to me. Plus we don't really have like... sex ed about how to do that so it's not like you can pick up a book. But that's what you have me for. If you suck at giving head I'm gonna teach you how to suck the rest of someone's life away.

So everyone is different, growth might look different on different people and sometimes you'll have somebody who has difficulty popping off just cause of weird nerve endings, obviously listen to what your partner tells you and what works for them because they're going to know better. I've been around with a lot of different men and this is just what's worked for me, if you try it and its TERRIBLE then don't think you're broken or whatever, our willies are just as diverse as we are :)

Generally though tdick kind of resembles a tiny penis especially when you've been on T for a long time. Personally I've been on T for five years and have a 2 inch monster and you can kind of see where the head would be vs the foreskin or whatever. Like my favorite analogy is that it looks like a .45 caliber bullet because that's what my dick looks like when I'm looking down, lol.

Like the cap on the bullet would be the "head" and the cartridge casing is the length of the thing. Like on a guy's dick idk if anybody is getting tdick circumcized so when he's soft the skin will come up and guard the head/clit part because it's sensitive, you're going to want to find the head and kind of gently push past the skin with your tongue or your finger. Like get it on the head because largely that's the most sensitive part of his dick. when it gets bigger it kind of gets less sensitive, and you can't just rub the whole thing like on a clit off testosterone, uniform pressure might not always work. So keep your finger on the pulse, lol.

The simplest motion tht you can do, like a good part to lick on is right where the head meets the rest of his dick. There's almost a seam, kind of like on that bullet. Just rub in little circles with your tongue. Start gentle, gauge his reaction, and then go a little harder or a little faster. Also stay in one place once you get into a groove, the more you rub on one spot the more sensitive and the better it will feel.

On the very APEX tip of his dick is where most of the nerves are bundled it's going to be the most sensitive, so if you want to make him jump or if he's not very sensitive rub there, lol.

Also, once you get that down, you can suck too! You want to make a seal with your lips around his dick, almost like you're pulling on a cigarette, or like you're sucking your lips on a peach to keep the juices from falling out. This intensifies it if his dick is not sensitive and keeps it in one place if he has a big dick.

If he likes penetration fingering him at the same time is not a bad idea either.

Also, mind the teeth, lol.

[yeyinde]

Ghost has a thing for fucking you when you're asleep—

(—and maybe one day he'll get around to telling you about it, too.)

noncon/dubcon somnophilia. spit kink. brief anal.

He likes you like this. When you're soft, pliant. A malleable little doll under his hands that he can shape to his will. Bend.

You're so small compared to him. Tiny. The difference unmoors the chains keeping his vile, nasty urges at bay, until they spool—horrific and depraved—around him. Unleashes the need in the back of his head that screams, howls, and tells him to own, possess. Claim.

Ruin you—

And you belong to him. Everything. Every part of you is his, down to your goddamn marrow. Your bones are marked with his name, false starts carved into milky bones.

he doesn't really see the problem with taking what is his.

—and so, he does.

His sweet, sweet girl who can barely take his cock when you're awake—too much, too fat—and so he makes do with slaking his hideous, bestial need on your body when you're asleep. When he can fold your knees up to your ears, and fuck you as deep, as hard, as he wants without worrying about you seeing the want rotting in his eyes, and run—

The stretch, you whine. He's too much for you. The biggest you've ever had. It isn't meant to stroke his ego, he knows this, but still. He preens when you add, liquid and pained, by a considerable margin, Simon—

Like this, asleep, you're relaxed. Liquid. 

And with the sleeping pills crushed into your bedtime tea you always (always) take an hour before bed, he can do whatever he wants to do. However he wants. 

Splits you open with his tongue, fucking into you until you're sloppy and wet. Spitting on your cunt and pushing the foamy glob into your tight hole at his own leisure without having a rain of indignant fists come down across his shoulders, disgusted by the degrading action. Don't spit on me, Simon, that's gross—

(but you swallow it like a good girl when he grabs you by the neck, thumb digging into the dent of your larynx until you open nice and wide for him, tongue sliding out like you're begging for it—)

His little hellion awake. But asleep? 

He gets your pussy messy with his spit, fucking it into you with two fingers—another benefit to fucking you asleep is that he doesn't have to bother with building up, can stretch you out on two fingers without those breathy little mewls spilling out, telling him it's too much. Then three with his mouth glued to your clit, feeling your cunt clench down on him as he bullies it with his tongue. The pressure is too much, too intense. You'd be howling if you were awake, but—

You're not. 

The only sound is the lews squelch of him fucking you open with three fingers, sucking noisily at your pebbled clit. 

Music to his ears. 

And if he's in a hurry. Well. Skipping foreplay all together is fine. Just has to spit on his palm, coat it over his shaft, and make you open up for him. Splitting you open on just his cock. All tight—agonizingly so—around him. 

You can take it. 

He knows you can. You take everything he throws at you—knees pushed to your ears, cock bulging out from your belly. Head buried in a pillow as he flattens his body over yours, and ruts into your cunt while he smothers you under his bulk. Indescribably tight like this with your thighs squeezed together between his own. On your side with your leg thrown over his hip, or held high in the air. 

He likes it best when you're on your back, though. Soft and sweet. Little hiccups leaving your slack lips as he forces you to take every inch he has to offer. Bullying his fat cock into your pussy. Over and over again—

Quenching his unbearable lust on you until it's slated on your flesh, cunt stuffed full of his cum.

Or your ass. 

You're wary about him burying his fat length into your ass. It'll hurt, is the biggest excuse you like to give, hands tucked against the swell of your bottom as if that would be enough to keep him away. You've never done that before and taking him in your pussy was already a lot, you couldn't imagine taking him there, too—

It's a problem. Too bad for you, he has always been task oriented. Someone who likes the squash issues under his thumb. 

And that's exactly what he does. 

Starts with his thumb shoved inside your hole when he's fucking your pussy. Then a finger. Two. Likes to lick at your cunt before shoving your knees to your chest, lifting your ass in the air, and devouring it with the same rapacious appetite. Tongue fucking into you, getting you all sloppy and wet, stretching you open so he can seat you down on his cock. All the way to the base. Stretching your rim wide around his girth. Pounding your tight little ass until he cums inside of you. Filling you over and over again until it leaks out, soaking into the sheets below. 

His pretty little doll. All fucked out and messy. 

With you asleep, Simon can take from you—as much as he needs to fill this greedy, gaping maw inside of himself—without burdening you. Scaring you away. 

And he'd rather not have to chase you down like a dog—

It's the perfect arrangement that lets him exorcise himself of the horrible, awful, things he wants to do to you. Quench the bloodlust, the violence, that drums up in the back of his head, ugly and noxious, that leaks poison into his blood. Makes him see you torn to pieces by his enemies, wrenched away by the people who think they know what's best for you. Taken. The urge to claim you is animalistic. Primal. 

This—

This is bloodletting. It's spilling the rot from inside himself so it doesn't fester. Turn septic. Gangrenous. Eating at his tissue until his hands no longer belong to himself, but to the mercy of his monstrous need. 

It lets him ruin you, tear into you like a beast, without worrying about you running from him. Fleeing from this rapacious green he holds deep in the fibrils of his chest. Hewed into his essence, subsumed into his marrow. 

Simply put: he needs this. Just like you need him. Simon. Need him like the air you breathe—

(And sometimes, sometimes, you get this peculiar look on your face before bed. A frisson. Unease, pensive. It splits over your brows, an evanescent tremor. He thinks you might be more aware than you let on. That you know about this hideousness inside him, this putrid greed that sloshes around the edges of his eyes sometimes, trying to bleed in, trickling down over his periphery before he can stop it. 

But it dissolves into complacency before he can chisel into it, leaving nothing behind but a faint stink of stale smoke. Acrid—like doused embers. Burning his nose, his lungs—)

And when he's had his fill—stuffed that chasm inside his belly with your flesh—he cleans you up, and pulls you tight to his chest. Satiated for the time being. Falling asleep with the taste of you on his tongue, locked tight in his embrace. Tenders to your aches the next morning, as soft and supple as he can ever allow himself to be. 

There’s a place for him, he’s sure, when he lies to you, and says that you must have slept the wrong way. That maybe he was a little too hard on you the night before. And maybe if he were a better person, a better man, he might have felt some sense of guilt for it. Shame.

But instead, he coos at you and says:

It’s his fault, pet, but don’t worry he’ll take such good care of you. Licking your sore cunt all day until you grab him by the scruff of his neck, and tell him no more, please, Simon, stop, stop—it doesn’t hurt anymore, please—

He relents an hour before bed and takes you to the kitchen where you sit and drink the tea he made without a word.

Like a good girl—

And then you slip into bed in nothing but his old shirt, curling up against his chest, and whispering—soft and sweet—into his ear, "good night, Simon."

(his sweet, sweet girl.

like you're fucking begging him for it—)

[lymtw]

Miss You Already

"Toji, you do this every time." You have your massive bear of a man clinging to you, watching you through the mirror on your vanity as you apply lipstick. He watches your fingers mold around the cylindrical make up product, before his attention shifts to the dark, bloody shade of red that you're smearing on your lips.

"Do you really wanna go? You don't have to. You can stay in with me," he suggests, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

You smile at him through the mirror, already noting the subtle longing expression on his face, though, you haven't even left, yet. "I'll be back, baby." You drop the lipstick into your make up bag and zip it up, taking one final look at yourself in the mirror to see if anything needs to be adjusted or tidied up.

"You don't have to go," Toji repeats, slowly dragging a hand up your body to cup your breast. Almost instantly, he feels your nipple harden and press against the material of your dress. "Stay and look pretty, just for me," he murmurs, rubbing the stiffened peak. His other hand pushes up your dress and makes its way between your thighs to tease you over your panties. "I'll take such good care of you. You won't even be bummed about ditching your friends."

You let out a soft sigh, when Toji's fingers apply pressure to your clothed clit, the sultry sound followed by an equally seductive laugh, as you gently pull his hands off of you and turn around to absorb the neediness he's doing a poor job of hiding.

"It's just a couple hours," you assure, but clearly, that's not enough of a reason for Toji to relent, because he wordlessly takes your hand and puts it on his clothed hard on. He moves your hand back and forth over the bulge, not breaking eye contact with you for a second. "I know, honey," you coo. "I'm sorry. I swear, i'll let you do whatever you want to me when I come back, okay? I'll make it up to you."

"No, doll. Please," he almost whines, walking into your embrace and burying his face into your neck. "Stay," he pleads, brushing his lips over your delicate skin. "I want you."

"Baby." You laugh, letting your hands settle on his back.

He's nosing at your neck and your jaw, getting strong whiffs of the pretty scent you spritzed on. "Need you, pretty. Please don't."

You don't know what it is about going out, that turns Toji into the clingiest man ever. Your friends tell you that their partners practically push them out the door and say that it's fine for them to go out, as long as they act responsibly, and yet here you are, fighting for your night out.

"Alright, Toji. Come on," you say, patting his back. He pulls away from you and follows you to the bed. "Sit, baby," you instruct, when he just stands there, staring at you like a dog that's about to be abandoned. He does as you say and sits down on the bed, watching as you climb up and sit on your knees. "Pull it out. Come on, let me see it," you say, with a sly little grin.

He lifts his hips and pulls down the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his drooling cock. He then wraps his hand around the length and smears his oozing precum over it, eliciting a few quiet, low groans. You crawl over to him and straddle his lap, holding his gaze with a soft smile on your face, when his hands go under the skirt of your dress to move your panties aside.

"I know you don't want me to go, baby," you start. His leaking tip meets your warm, soft skin and instantly, a chill runs down his spine. He pushes the tip in and you begin to slowly lower yourself onto him. "I-I know," you utter, trying to keep it together as you take in more and more of him. Once you're fully seated, you let out a sigh, and wrap your arms around his neck, leaning forward to speak softly into his ear. "I'll be back in a couple hours. Before midnight, love." You raise your hips and lower them again, luring a small, but needy groan from him. "You have my location, so you'll be able to see where I am."

"Mhm," Toji hums, dragging his blunt nails up and down your back.

"And you'll know when I'm on my way home," you murmur, kissing his earlobe and giggling at the sight of the lipstick that transferred onto his skin.

"Yeah... That too, mama," he replies. His hands go lower, beneath your dress, again, to rest on your ass for a mere second before he starts rubbing and squeezing it.

"And—fuck, baby—you'll see when i'm right around the corner."

"Twenty s-seconds," he says, breathily, as you leave more kisses on his ear.

"Right, twenty seconds," you say, pressing a kiss to his temple, knowing it'll leave a red lip print behind. "Twenty seconds, and the car-" you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, lured out by the feeling of his fingers reaching your clit and rubbing it. "Fuck," you moan, when he bucks his hips up to meet your movements. "Twenty seconds and the... the car, will be parked in our driveway."

"And then you'll be home," Toji says, certainty riddling the statement.

"Then, I'll be home," you confirm, pressing a kiss beneath his eye, then another one on his cheek. You hear his low chuckles and when you lean back to look at him, he has the most lovestruck expression on his face. "What? You like my kisses?" You ask, reciprocating his loving gaze.

"Your lipstick is smudged," Toji says, his eyes pinpointed to the color that escaped the lines of your lips. You still look gorgeous, even with that slightly messy detail. His breath catches when you roll your hips on him a little faster and lean in to decorate his face with more a your warm, affectionate kisses. "Fucking love your kisses, ma." He can see hints of the color you left on his skin through his peripheral vision and he notices that each time you pull away, you have less color on your lips. By the time you finish covering his face and the side of his neck with kisses, the pigment that once was on your lips, remains as merely a faded blush.

"It's all gone, doll," Toji groans, breathing a little more heavily as you up the pace of your hips one more time. He sounds like he's just as close to his peak as you are.

"I know... It's okay. Do I still look pretty?" You ask, your breathy laugh mingling with the sweetness of your sultry sounds. Without a warning, Toji leans in and kisses you in a manner full of affirmation. He's guiding your hips, assisting you in quickly bouncing up and down his cock, now. Every sound you make is sealed in the kiss and greedily devoured by him, and when you both cum, the kiss gets sloppy and you lose synchronization, leaving both of you to just moan, groan, and pant into each others mouths. The overly tight grip he uses to still your hips to avoid overstimulation, would be painful if you weren't so blissed out by your orgasm.

"Fucking gorgeous," Toji mumbles. He tilts your head slightly to expose the side of your neck and presses gentle kisses along the area, just before sucking on the delicate skin and leaving his own longer lasting mark on you. "There you go, pretty baby. Gave you a little peck, too," he says, after rubbing the small patch of his saliva into the mark.

The sight before you makes a lazy smile curl on your lips. Toji's entire face is scattered with your red kiss prints—even his lips have a slight tint to them. He looks loved, and by the looks of the soft expression on his face, he must feel like it, too.

You slowly lift yourself off of Toji and he fixes your underwear, patting the front, before letting you get off the bed. You head to the bathroom to fetch him a towel, and once you hand it to him, you make your way over to your vanity and use a make up wipe to remove the previous layer of lipstick, so you can reapply a new layer on a clean slate.

You see Toji looking at you from his spot on the bed and smile at him before zipping up your make up bag. Once you feel satisfied with the way you look and you finish buckling the ankle straps of your heels, you go over to Toji to say goodbye.

"You look like Valentine's Day incarnate," you tease, running a thumb over one of the kisses on his cheek. He wants to smile, but all he can think about is how in a minute, you'll be gone and he'll be spending the next few hours alone. You see that same longing look from before return. He looks so soft and it's chipping at your heart, but you can't fall for it. He does this every. time. It's only a couple hours. You'll be back with him before you know it.

"Take a nap or try to sleep through. When I get back and finish dressing down, I'll slide right into bed with you, alright?" You offer him a soft smile, and wait for him to respond so that you can go.

Toji sighs, like it physically pains him to watch you leave. It's not going to be as easy to get to sleep without you. Getting a taste of your loving just made him want you to stay even more, but he knows he can't keep you from spending time with your friends. They don't see you every day, and he does. He wakes up to you every morning, he spends the rest of his day with you when he comes home from work—with the exception of those few times he accepts invites to hang out with his colleagues. Even on those rare occasions, he's never experienced you trying to convince him to stay home, because you know, at the end of the day, he'll take his place next to you in bed. Plus, it's not like you're sleeping over at one of their houses. When you're done hanging out with your friends, you'll come home, and you'll sleep next to him, as always.

"Yeah, okay," Toji says, finally letting up, to avoid holding you back any longer. "Call me for whatever reason. You know you don't need one."

You lean down and leave a dark red kiss on his forehead, then wait for him to meet you halfway for a peck on the lips. "Love you," you murmur.

"Love you, ma," Toji responds, catching one more sweet smile from you, before you leave the bedroom and set out for your night.

[succubi-tch]

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 2 — POWER IMBALANCE

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — neuvillette, diluc, ayato

— warnings. — fem! reader, power imbalance, toxic & manipulation, hard syx, dom/sub, reader teases in diluc's part, ayato is really toxic in this one kinda???

⚝ — NEUVILLETTE

when neuvillette tells you to do something, you're doing it, point blank— because you see, he's your master, the man who's saved you, not to mention your literal boss since he was so nice to give you a job as his sweet n pretty secretary.

as it was, in the grand halls of fontaine's court of justice, neuvillette’s word were law itself— precisely when he tells you to do something, it becomes absolute, you're immediately on your way without processing any of it.

his presence alone commands respect— coldness, it reveals a composed man, an untouchable one—yet his touch, it's surprisingly warm despite the fact that he rarely spoke about love or intimacy.

despite the fact that the subtle gestures on your body— the little kisses and reassuring tugs on your flesh whenever he fucked you on his desk were maddening, never leaving out the best part of it; when he places his palms around your head so you wouldn't hurt yourself, immediately resulting in you melting underneath his broad body as he revealed a softness beneath the stern exterior.

you feel the weight of his authority in every thrust, every grind and harsh squeeze of his palms reaching for your tits.

the unspoken pressure to be perfect for him was there, yes, to make him feel perfect while you're also contemplating if you'd ever be enough for an enigmatic individual like him.

face nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you feel how his fingers apply more strength as he flexes his digits into the flesh of your hips, dragging you deeper towards his cock twitching between your walls— the desperate milking compression of your warm cunt making him want to lose control.

you begin feel lightheaded at the arousal messing him up— and ugh, how much there was, and ah, you’re so tight, even after multiple rounds, desperately waiting for him to drag you against his desk and make your pussy squeeze him, wanting him to feel like you pull him.

⚝ — DILUC

in front of strangers, diluc’s intensity was something which was being noticed right from the start— and well, he wanted it that way, it meant that he had one headache less to worry about.

it doesn't matter though, because behind closed doors, your hand slips under his loosened shirt like it's meant to, graciously rubbing at his bare muscles flexing underneath the softness of your palms. having an affair with your boss surely wouldn't look good to bystanders, nor was it something diluc wanted to get out in the first place— hence why he'd never fail to subtly show you, also throwing a slight passive aggressiveness into it, that he was in charge of this, or whatever you might call the situation between you both.

he sucked in a sharp breath as his dick gradually got hard under his tight pants, pulsating on all the sharp edges and rough lines when you began to fidget with the belt, "hey now, you shouldn't get so bossy," he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek before placing his thumb on your bottom lip to tap it repeatedly

"you have quite the personality today, master diluc," you frown at him, with one hand grabbing at his biceps as he breathes— for a second deflecting the real reason as to why he would pretend to care about what other people thought about him, or about this.

or perhaps he was utterly scared of showing genuine emotions to someone he hasn't known for long.

yet instead of going through with his newfound thought, diluc instantly grabs at your hips to make you fall against his chest in combination with him bumping down the large sofa, the leather of the furniture creaking.

he licks his lips, fuck— diluc forgot how much passion could manifest in simply being felt up a little and he desperately attemps to focus on playing with your tits, or at least watch how pretty and nicely they fit in is hand.

be as it may, all that has really gotten his attention was the feeling of your hand on his cock, fiercely palming him through his boxers, your fingertip teasing along the edge of his waistband.

"you'll get in trouble," he manages to breathe out, whimpering when you angle your hand upwards so he could feel the heat of your hand on his tip.

⚝ — AYATO

ayato, most famously known as the head of the yashiro commission, had an unique gift inside of him— you see, he knew how to use words like deadly weapons.

when he wants something, really craves and desires a certain being, it felt like the world immediately bends to his will— including you, the person he was actually after. ayato will convince you that his decisions are in your best interest, even when they serve his own.

"oh, is my sweet girl worried about me?" he breathes out before placing his wet tip on your clit, tapping and nudging at it— the sound echoing through the room and standing over your head was making you feel hot and cold at the same time.

you can sense the painful squeeze in your stomach to just want to be filled— please, get his thick shaft into your intimate space until it's obvious on your face, sending him back a doe-eyed look while he towers on top of your naked frame— thighs twitching, his dick sinking back into your mushy cunt.

okay, maybe he's gotten a little too lost in you.

since you're intriguing in his eyes, well— ayato knows he can get a hold of you, that you admire him and are more than happy with the job that he's given you— not that he cares, in fact, he need you, that constant drive of feeling you was burning hotter and turning him insane.

his body trembles as he watches your liquids stick around the base of his cock, proving his point that you're as desperate for him as he was for you as he smeared your slick back inside your trembling walls, your skin throbbing and twitching with every unforgiving push of his hips.

with how big he was, in every aspect imaginable, you begin to feel like he was stretching you forever as you gasp out a broken mumble of his name, the waves of his thrusts and rolls stinging along your nerves as you begin to moan out shamelessly, feeling every detail and vein of his cock moulding into your walls and marking its shape inside.

ayato was intoxicating— no, stop it, he's your boss, okay, cool down.

yet it never ever felt fucking better.

© 2024 anantaru  do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[moonstruckme]

emt!marauders getting called to a halloween party bc your friend got injured in her drunkenness. you’re the one who called and took responsibility in the situation, so when they show up you’re there in like an angel or goddess costume or something ethereal and you’re caring so kindly for your friend and they’re like soooooooo in love. maybe you ride in the ambulance with her bc she doesn’t want to be alone and get to spend even more time with them 🫣🥸🤲

Thanks for requesting!

cw: alcohol, blood, needle, nausea, symptoms of concussion (or I guess those could be interpreted as drunkenness if you like), mention of hospital/stitches

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’ve got both hands on your friend’s head because you don’t trust her to keep up pressure with the towel herself, but you suppose you’re not much better. Your hands are shaking something awful. The blue and yellow lights turning onto your street come as a relief. 

“Look, the ambulance is here,” you tell your friend softly, a poor attempt at reassuring her. 

“Hello.” A dark-haired paramedic flashes a grin at you both as he steps down from the passenger side to meet you at the curb. “So, we have an angel and a…zombie?” 

Your friend makes a rather zombie-like sound of confirmation. 

Another EMT comes up behind the first. “Oh, perfect! So the head wound is just part of it then, I suppose. We can all go home.” He crouches in front of her, smiling as he takes her wrist in his hands and settles two fingers over her pulse. “How are we feeling, babe?”

Your friend swallows thickly. “I need to call my mom.” 

“I’ve already called your mom,” you remind her gently. A third paramedic, this one taller and with a lither build than the others, rounds the ambulance. “She’s on her way.” You ask the paramedics, “Do you know which hospital we’ll be going to? So I can tell her mom.” 

“Most likely the one on Baker,” says the third paramedic. He sets his hand over yours on the towel. “I’ve got this, love.” 

You let go carefully, texting your friend’s mom the hospital before wrapping your arm around her shoulders. Her voice has gone thin and wobbly as the paramedic getting her pulse asks her questions.

“And who’s your friend there?” He points at you with his chin. “Do you know her name?”

Your friend follows his gaze as though she’d forgotten you were there, and you try to give her a smile. She says your name. 

“Nice to meet both of you,” he says cheerily. “I’m James, that’s Sirius and that’s Remus. We’re going to take you to the hospital now, okay? Do you feel like you can walk?”

“Can she come with me?” your friend asks. 

James hesitates. He looks to the other two. 

The tall one—Remus—says tentatively, “We’re really not supposed to. It’d be an awfully tight fit.” 

Your friend’s eyes start to water, and you say quickly, rubbing her arm, “I can stay out of your way. She’s—” you lower your voice “—her mom is hours away, and she’s scared. I don’t want her to be alone.” 

Remus’ eyebrows bend with sympathy. 

“Let’s do it.” Sirius bumps Remus’ hip, a familiar sort of gesture. He sends you a wink. “We can’t part her from her guardian angel.” 

Your face heats, but you smile at him. Give Remus a hopeful look. 

He nods. “Alright,” he says, keeping one hand on your friend’s head and taking her elbow in the other. “Ready to go?” 

“Can my friend come with me?” 

“I’m coming,” you reassure her. You help her stand with an arm under her shoulders, supporting her weight more than necessary in case she falls. 

James and Sirius are waiting in the back of the ambulance to help her up, and while Sirius gets her settled on the gurney James reaches back down for you. 

“Hop on up, angel.” 

You’re not sure if he’s referring to your costume or not, but you think you might be okay with this guy calling you whatever he likes. You take his hand, and have to avert your eyes from the flex of his bicep as he pulls you up. 

“You alright?” Remus asks as you try to find the most out-of-the-way place to sit. 

“Hm?” You look to him. “Yeah, why?” 

He gives you a soft smile. “You’re shaking, love.” He takes your shoulders in his hands, guiding you to a bench in the corner. “Put your back against the wall there. There you are. Say something if you start to feel faint, okay?” 

You hum weakly. You are starting to really tremble, your adrenaline catching up to you now that there are professionals here to take charge of your friend. 

“You’ve got a wicked concussion,” Sirius says to her. “Really top-of-the-line head injury, I’m impressed. Did you pass out at any point?” 

Your friend looks to you, uncertain. 

You take the hand she holds out to you. “Yeah,” you tell Sirius. “Just for a second, though, right after it happened.”

“What did happen?” asks James. 

“She fell and clipped her head on the counter.” You wince at the memory. 

Sirius makes a sympathetic sound. “Bit too much to drink?” 

Your friend makes a rueful, miserable sound. You squeeze her hand. 

“You weren’t so bad,” you tell her kindly. “Just enough to lose your balance. It could’ve happened to anyone.” 

James looks at your joined hands with a faint smile. “You’re a good friend,” he says, “staying with her like this.” 

You shrug. “Couldn’t really leave her alone, could I?” 

“Some people would.” Remus starts putting an IV into your friend’s hand, and you have to look away, your stomach roiling. James chuckles. “Especially considering you look like you might pass out yourself.” 

“I told her to say if she was going to,” says Remus. 

“I’m okay,” you say feebly. 

Sirius tsks, leaving the care of your friend’s wound to James as he comes over to you. “Not a fan of needles?” 

“Or blood,” you admit. “Sorry, I’m fine, just squeamish.” 

“Put your head there, gorgeous.” The compliment doesn’t help with the turmoil in your stomach, nor does the hand he sets on your face, gently directing you to rest your head in the corner. He procures a bottle of water from a drawer. “Sip on this, and please try not to pass out without telling us.” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Sorry.” 

“No need to be sorry, angel, you’re doing great. You’re both doing great.” Sirius gives you and your friend’s linked hands a squeeze before rejoining James by her head. “Now, I’m hoping you’re less squeamish than your guardian angel over there, babe. Have you ever had stitches before?”

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)

I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.

It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time

tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b

When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.

It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆

Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!

I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.

The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.

Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.

And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.

“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.

“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”

“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.

Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”

“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”

Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”

Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.

Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”

“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.

“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”

Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”

Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”

Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.

What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.

“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.

“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”

He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.

"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.

“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."

Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”

“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”

He sighed, “I’m not.”

Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”

He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”

“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.

Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.

With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.

With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.

His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.

His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”

This is ridiculous.

Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.

Nothing.

"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.

He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.

He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.

Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.

After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.

So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.

It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.

Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.

In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.

But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.

Still.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.

He held his breath, unconsciously.

With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.

"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."

Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.

Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.

"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.

But today, they were soft and out of focus.

"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.

"Am I dreaming?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."

"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"

Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.

Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.

"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."

He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"

You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.

A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.

“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.

“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.

You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”

His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.

"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.

"When was your last time, mon cher?"

Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."

"You're in hell now."

"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.

"Look at me."

Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.

With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.

Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.

He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?

Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.

He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."

Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.

A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.

"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.

He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.

No.

Not enough.

Too soon.

A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.

He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.

When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.

Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.

He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.

"My doe?"

Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"

"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."

The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.

"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.

Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"

Suddenly, silence.

The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"

"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.

"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.

"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"

Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.

"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"

"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."

"Yet..." She cocked her brow.

"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."

Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"

"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.

She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"

His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."

He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.

But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?

"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."

Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.

For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.

To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.

He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.

Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.

The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.

One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.

You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.

And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.

Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.

He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.

When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”

༻Masterlist༺