#chastity fang.................

[broodwolf221]

solas nooooo this is the funniest thing ive ever seen

why do u have a wolf tooth pinned on your crotch

[jame7t]

wait if a vampires fangs are their reproductive organs how are we gonna put chastity cages on them

[cyallowitz]

Teaser Tuesday: The Princess General!

Cover Art by Alison Hunt Can’t do a bunch of teasers and leave out Lost from War of Nytefall.  This excerpt comes from Eradication, which you can get as a $2.99 eBook or a $12.00 paperback.  This specific scene really shows how much chaos Lost can cause even by accident.  One of the reasons I enjoyed writing her.  Enjoy. (more…) “”

[sh1-n0bu]

Can't stop thinking about domming Calcharo

Idk for some reason I see him as breedable-

RAAAGHHH CALCHARO ASKS YEAAHHHHH🔥🔥 its actually super funny cuz ill be going “oh my cutie patootie🫶” “my shy princess🎀” “my wittle baby🥰” and then hes just there, murdering enemies in the background like “STRIKE👹SHIMMER👹unleash the fangs😡whos the prey now?”

service sub. you cannot tell me otherwise. brat? spoiled? nuh-uh. poor man never felt an ounce of normalcy in his life and his job is literally to serve to people who pays him, he’s a service sub

not exactly big on kinks or toys, i think. really likes soft and vanilla sex most of the times in private, in the comfort of your shared home where he can be vulnerable. but if he’s really feeling like it and too damn horny to function, he’ll indulge in the occasional handjob or blowjob behind a stacks of crates or walls

not exactly loud but not exactly dead silent either. not a full blown moaner, but he whines and whimpers so sweetly. likes to hug you or stay close to you so you can hear how quickly he’s turning into a putty in your hand while his hands desperately cling to your biceps or forearms for a little bit of grounding

won’t do anything without your permission, really. you wanna try something? sure. chastity cages? a ring around his cock? or even a vibrator you wanna shove up his hole while he tries to maintain composure? he’s all in for it. just please don’t torture him for too long, he might just lose his facade in the wrong place. would whine and apologize if he cums too quickly or without asking for your permission. weak knees ready to buckle beneath him while he whimpers out how sorry he is for cumming without your permission

he’s so cute :((

really loves markings, me thinks. scratching is fine but he really really really loves bitemarks. on him? on you? doesn’t matter. do whatever you want to him and he’ll take it like a good boy. don’t worry of his men seeing the marks, his clothes will cover him plenty, just hurry up and sink your fangs into his flesh, mark him as yours

might be into some predator/prey thing because of his voicelines,,,,,, and some size difference kink. he’s a big, intimidating guy so the thought of his lover being smaller than him even by a single inch and still being able to catch him or rat him out from hiding gets his pants feeling a little bit tighter. it doesn’t even have to completely sexual all the time too! just brush against him when reaching for something in the fridge, a hand over his waist when moving past him in a small space, guide him to give you some space with a hand on his lower back while you walk past him — and calcharo’s already thinking of how you could use those hand placements to fuck him dumb for the rest of the day

big nose, big dick!! and he really lives up to it. just like his body type, his cock is a bit on the fatter side i think. just a teensy bit thicker all around with a very cute sensitive tip. be sure to suck on his sensitive tip to get your puppy whining about how his mind is melting at record speed! he’ll be thrashing his legs and shaking his head, saying he can’t cum again but he refuses to safe word or push your head away. too bad calcharo, you’ll be crying in no time soon

hips mmmgghhhh… his hips are so squeeze-able when fucking him from behind. push him into a doggy style with his chest down against the bed, ass perched up for you to fuck his puckering hole. or just push him flat down against the mattress while you roughly fuck into him from behind while your hands leave bruises on his hips. he’ll whine about his cock being neglected as the poor thing weeps precum on the sheets, squished between his body and the material of the beddings with no mercy to touch himself. just slap his ass or squeeze his hips and he’ll learn to be a good boy again

also might be into some light pet play or simply being collared and leashed. y’know with the whole hound thing and stuff. leash him up and put him into a mating press and he’s whimpering and throwing his head back like the cute pup he is. will try to deny it, saying things like “n-not a… p-pu—uunngh haah aah annhcg puppy! not a puppy..!” with a shake of his head. just coo out that he does sound like one and he’s voice is sounding a bit higher as he whimpers loudly

idk why but i just have a feeling that he’ll be into sounding… idk whyyyyy okay?? it just,,, seems like something he would be into. has the fastest reactions and dry orgasms when his dick is all plugged up while your hand slowly jerks off his cock. you don’t even have to tease him and he’s already asking for a permission to cum

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Lucifer NSFW alphabet

Aftercare

what they're like after sex

He's a lot softer after sex and he'll take all the measures necessary to make you feel comfortable. He's a doctor, so he knows how to patch you up. Asks Buer to make the two of you tea since it helps relax.

Body Part

their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's

His favorite body part used to be his wings, but now it's his fangs. He likes the effect they have on you and how he's the only one, Heaven or Hell, to have them so pronounced

His favorite body part on you are your eyes. Not only can they cry so pretty, but they also show your true feelings. As they say, the eyes are the windows to the soul. (Plus he has a thing for eye contact and seing himself in the reflection of your eyes, but that's a post for another day)

Cum

anything to do with cum, basically

His cum has healing properties so you always feel better after he cums on/inside you. If you want, he'll give you a bottle of his cum to use as cream when you're hurt, since you already love drinking it from a bottle so much.

Also, if you can get pregnant, he'll be very worried about possibly leaving you with a baby, so he takes birth control pills religiously.

Dirty secret

pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

He had a threesome with Adam and Eve where he actually came in Adam's ass. He'll never admit this, not even to God.

The second time he decided to visit humanity, he found a cult that worshiped him and he still finds the idea of mortals praying to him arousing.

Experience

how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?

Bro participated in orgies, he knows how sex works. Though, after he fell from Heaven, he stopped having sex. Not because he's practicing chastity or anything, but the oportunity never showed itself.

Also, he knows how to have sex with angels, but he's never done it with a human before. So he might assume that you can take as much as an angel. It's fine, he's a fast learner so he won't overstimulate you... that much.

Favorite position

this goes without saying

He doesn't have one, but he hates all the positions where he has to lay on his back. He also likes holding your hands while you fuck because he knows you'll try to pull on his wings and he doesn't trust you. Other than that, he has no favorites.

Goofy

are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?

Even if he tried to tell a joke, his voice is so monotone that you couldn't tell. He'll also be very confused if you started cracking jokes in the middle of sex. He never laughs, he just looks at you with a bewildered and partly judgemental look on his face.

Hair

how well groomed are they?

We are in headcanon territory, so, I think angels don't have hair, they only have feathers. Their "hair" is actually fluff that baby birds have. So, in conclusion, I think Lucifer's dick is fluffy.

Intimacy

how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect

He would prefere doing anything else but sex to show you how much he loves you. He'll be more sensual and take things slow because he has no reason to rush. No matter how hard he tries to act like one of those porn stars you so admire, you always get the impression that he's mildly bored. He's only doing this because you like sex and he likes you, so, in part, it is true.

Jack Off

masturbation headcanons

He doesn't masturbate. He just doesn't see the use in it. If he's feeling horny he'll just call you over and have an actual passionate night of sex. Why would he bother jacking off when he has you for that.

Kink

one or more of their kinks

Dacryphilia, that one is canon, but I also think he has a thing for overstimulation. Will make you cum until you cry and ask him to stop and depending on his mood he may or may not listen. He usually doms because it's in his nature to do so, but he might indulge you once he likes you enough. When he subs he only accepts praise, the moment you degrade him he just bitch slaps you and leaves. He's not a prideful bitch, he just knows his worth/s

Location

favorite place to do the do

His garden. It's pretty, it's outdoors, you get some fresh air. He's probably really into botony so he'll show you plants as he fucks you. He also really likes the texture of grass, more so than his bed, so this is where you're having sex.

Motivation

what turns them on, gets them going

Seeing you cry especially if it's from something he did. Being a doctor and checking up on you as he randomly takes blood samples or gives you jabs that he refuses to eleborate on. His ideal partner is someone that's afraid of medical supplies. He likes scaring you, making you cry before saving you with an embrace while he coos about how brave you were.

No

Something they wouldn't do, turn offs

Getting called "daddy" or "brother" during sex is his biggest turn off. He had to deal with an incestous brother, please don't remind him of him.

Oral

preference in giving or recieving, skills, etc.

I preferes the idea of recieving, but he doesn't want to hospitalise you, so he'll be giving for most of the relationship. He's very good at giving as well, but he's a little shit about it. He never gives you full tongue treatment, you only get small kitten licks and nothing more. He'll give you a gynaecology/andrology check up since he's already there.

Pace

are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?

He likes it slow. He drags out the forplay, usually it lasts more than the actual sex and then fucks you swiftly. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't be rough because his dick is twice the amount a human can take. He hates rushing, let him take his time.

Quickie

their opinions on quickies, how often

He's very against quickies. He likes to take his time, and if something urgent needs to be attended to soon, he'll push you away and deal with that before even considering having sex. The prep for sex with him is 3/4 of the sex experience, why would you want to pass it.

Risk

are they willing to experiment? Do they take risks?

It depends. He might experiment with some kinks if you express interest in them, but nothing too extreme. If you insist on doing extreme stuff with him, he'll just pay someone from Abaddon to do it. No, he won't let you step on his cock, he already has erectile disfunction.

Stamina

how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?

He gets tired after speaking for 3 minutes, he has the stamina of a malnurished sloth. He's mostly fucking you out of professional obligation, so he'll give you one or two turns of action, about 5 minutes each and then he does the after care. If he's feeling very horny, and I mean very horny, he'll make sure that not even his cum can cure your soreness, but he lacks that motivation 9/10.

Toys

do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partener or themselves

Do needles and jabs count as sex toys? He doesn't use them often, but he does sometimes indulge in that fantasy. He can also tie you up like he does to Marbas if you want. He'll never use toys on himself because he considers them ungodly. But if they please you, sure enough.

Unfair

how much they like to tease

Honey, teasing is the sex when you're with Lucifer. You better have an hour free in your scheduel just for the forplay. It's his favorite part of the experience because he gets to do stuff that isn't 100% sexual while being sexual enough that they please you.

Volume

how loud are they? What sounds do they make?

His very quiet, to the point that you sometimes doupt he's enjoying himself. When he does makes sounds, usually when he's close, he'll groan or choke, before realeasing with a melodic moan. He also shooes and gives you orders about what to do. He doesn't like a partner that's very loud, only Gamigin has the green card when it comes to being noisy.

Wildcard

a random headcanon for the character

Lucifer is a sex neutral asexual. He doesn't experience sexual attraction and he only has sex if someone else that he likes asks him to. He doesn't see the hype around it, and sex is the least important part of a relationship for him.

X-ray

let's see what's going on under those clothes

I'll be honest with you, I've never seen a penis in real life, I have no idea how those usually look like. His dick is 30 cms, I'm not sure that's physicly possible, but who knows. Wouldn't a dick that big be uncomfortable to live with? I am very confused. Just imagine a baguette and boom, that's his dick.

Yearning

How high is their sex drive

Nonexistent. Before he met you, he only had sex during the annual angel orgies because it was tradition. It's not that he hates sex, but as stated above, he just has no interest in it. When you see naked people daily for your job, you stop being excited by nudeness.

Zzz

how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

He only falls asleep after he makes sure you did. Usually sleeps in a seperate room from you, but, after he gets attached, he'll insist that you cuddle in your sleep.

[rentumblsstuff]

Random Hatchetfield Headcanons

The first time Alice Woodward ever smoked weed was when (after much inner turmoil) she asked Deb to shotgun it with her.

Max has two snaggletoothed incisors which is why people swear to god he has fangs.

Deb also has a snaggletooth which is what inspired the vampire part of Alice’s vampiric sapphic play. Alice also thinks it’s ironic she made a vampire character when Deb is a vegan.

Ruth as a Sophmore hit on Senior Alice a lot. Alice thought it was funny and she and Deb “adopted” her. Max and Steph also put the PANIC in bi panic for Ruth.

Max would find it weirdly hot that Grace wears bathing suits under her clothes because of the idea that he gets to see what her body looks like before even she does.

The hospital is downtown, so Becky Barnes definitely got infected in TGWDLM. Despite never wanting to do it again, Becky climbs the tree as someone calls the HFPD to save Kathy’s cat because she’s still infinitely compassionate even under Pokey’s control. Plus, Pokey knows she wants to get over the trauma associated with climbing trees, so he makes her do it to give her a big number about finally overcoming her past. She accidentally flings the cat as soon as the song starts, which is why in Show Me Your Hands, the cat dies so quickly even though it JUST got called in.

Peter infected Steph who infected Deb who infected Alice in TGWDLM. Pete and Steph would have been Sophomores and Deb and Alice were Seniors, but I always imagine Steph and Deb knowing eachother because MRFC said Steph is in the Smoke Club on Twitter at some point. Assuming Steph’s been a little punk for a while, she’s been in the smoke club since at least Sophomore year, and probably a new inductee the same year as TGWDLM (2018).

Alice and one of her parents (maybe Bill) were also raised in purity culture because we know the Woodwards and the Chastitys go to the same church. The Woodwards probably take it with a grain of salt though (Alice has expressed dislike over Grace’s prudishness)- either that or one of her parents (probably her mom) wasn’t originally from said church and also raised Alice with “this is what you’re learning here, but here’s also what I learned at my church at your age.” Bill was likely the one raised in purity culture because he does NOT LIKE DEB and thinks that if she HAS TO date a girl, she should date someone like Grace Chastity, implying she’s an exemplary teen girl. Ms. Woodward lets Deb sleep over and probably knows she smokes and likes her anyways; three points for Alice’s mom not being the puritanical one.

Ted reads romance novels. He’s a former geek turned sleazeball- you know he reads the smuttiest novels ever and calls them “his research”. He refuses to read any book with the friends to lovers trope because it’s too upsetting to think about. (Side note Time Bastard gave us a definite date that timelines don’t branch/reset before depending on whichever theory you believe because the homeless man is in every timeline, meaning that Jenny’s death is fixed in time and never changes: October 7th 2004, so the timelines change anywhere between October 8th 2004 and 2018.)

In whatever timeline Emma finally gets to have her weed farm, she meets Paul when he tells her he was prescribed that marajamij for his anxiety and he was too scared to try Xanax. She thinks he’s kind of cute for a wet cat of a corporate slave. “Fuck the patriarchy? Yes please.” (Side note Paul seems so uptight and unfuckable like bro gotta be blank down there like a Ken doll and has no discernible kinks from what I remember while Emma is laid back and chill asf and like… normal in comparison so yeah sure Paulkins canonically fucks but does Emma enjoy it?? Like dude even Pete’s more fuckable than him come on.)

Pete and Steph don’t kiss when they admit their feelings for eachother even though one of them would die before ever getting to kiss each other because they both think it’ll only make it that much harder to go through with sacrificing the other. One of the reasons Pete also chooses to be the one to take the bullet because he doesn’t think he even COULD pull the trigger on her. Like it’d be physically impossible for him, in his mind.

TGWDLM was originally meant to be an allegory for the institution brainwashing us. Show Me Your Hands and America’s Great Again: examples of people in power working for and fulfilling the evil wishes of some almighty, otherworldly, inhuman THING (be it aliens, be it those in power). It’s clearly meant to satirize the way that power corrupts and tries to convince you its way is better. Even Hidgens, THE FUCKING TEACHER, tries to teach his student that it will be better for everyone to join in that corruption and give in to the hive mind. This reminds me of how the school system in America tries to paint our history as something glamorous; manifest destiny instead of genocide of the indigenous populations. The people in power convincing those under them that the deaths of countless lives is a good thing and it will pave the way to a better future. Cool motive, still murder. Which is why Emma “Fuck the Patriarchy” Perkins is the last one to be infected. She was incapable of being brainwashed , and even when she was the last one left, she saw that the people watching didn’t care, and the all-consuming threat of corrupted power closes in on her until the very last moment.

The Lords in Black were going to try to convince whoever sacrificed their most treasured something to do more work for them, but Grace required very little convincing. Like Wiggly spoke into her mind like “Gracy-Wace! You forgot my booky-wook! Look in it, see any thing you like? Wanna kill all the pervy-wervys?” And she’s like “holy cow I can kill all the pervy-wervys with this book?” Pete would have needed the most convincing because he’s just lost the only girl who will ever love him (in his mind) and so he’d think these things took away his one chance at true love and NEVER want to deal with them again. Even if they offered him a way to get her back, he’s too smart to know that won’t come without an even bigger price AND too paranoid to think she won’t come back wrong like Max did.

If the Green-Foster family ever did get to move to California and Lex got to be an actress, her interview attitude would be a lot like Reneé Rapp and if she ever got asked about why she’ll openly shit talk people in an interview, she’s like “I used to work retail I learned pretty fast that nothing gets done if you keep your mouth shut.”

[armandcock]

Armand cunt that deserves to be eaten out and catholic guilt and chastity has stopped that from happening for a long time × messy eater big fanged Daniel that was into counter cultures and did anything to get his dick wet in the 70s

excellent...

[kingsandbastardz]

more of the wips list

@cheetahing

shark-dick - a tale of narratives and severe misunderstandings

Ok this one will likely eventually be some flavor of dihua.

But it's basically continuing on the theme of narratives != reality, where I ask, "What if Jinyuan Alliance, and Di Feisheng in particular?"

Which, we know DFS isn't nearly as evil as the name Demon would suggest. But what else?

It starts with the idea of Jinyuan Alliance being the hive of scum and villiany and sexual deviance. Where it's the place where perverts go to roam free and wave their freak flag in a way polite society doesn't allow. Like, their poor prisoners! You'd be better off dead! Etc.

"So... you haven't? At all? Even when you're this old?" Fang Duobing asks with far more confusion than was warranted. Di Feisheng's eyes are closed as he cycles his energy through his meridians, his eyelashes arcing softly across his cheeks and his hair lifting and fluttering about as if buffeted from an invisible, spiraling wind. He doesn't respond beyond a faint but clearly disdainful snort. Offended, Fang Duobing points at him and demands, "So if shaoye grabs your- your jade rod, you're telling me you can just make the feeling go away?" A sharp brow twitching faintly, Di Feisheng immediately replies, "Yes." "I refuse to believe you." Really, Xiaobao? In Li Lianhua's opinion, if there was anyone who would take a largely ignored path to harness his youth's yang energy and efficiently turn himself into a high density cauldron of power, it would be Di Feisheng. The concept of taking sexual energy and transmuting it into something else was not a new one (there were entire schools of thought and exotic styles based around it), but this was an area largely ignored by earthly men and women for a reason -- only Di Feisheng could accidentally master systemic chastity out of annoyance that his adolescence was disrupting his focus. Li Lianhua carefully pours himself a cup a tea with perfectly steady hands and a blank mind. He can feel as Di Feisheng winds down his daily meditation - his energy slows and pulls inward and back, like the ocean's waves tugging lightly at bare toes as it withdraws at low tide. Li Lianhua should be impressed. He really should be. It was a great skill mastered at a very, very young age - a skill mastered without a teacher and without any understanding of what it could mean for Di Feisheng's future self. But instead, unexpectedly perverse words like "virgin" and "untouched" echo resonantly in the cavernous space between Li Lianhua's ears. Meanwhile, Di Feisheng has unexpectedly embarked on a wordy tale of something he personally witnessed. "I know a man who was prideful in his high energy and the size of his manhood. One day, we traveled together for a short time and was on a ship heading to [____] when he started arguing with a deckhand. The sailor insisted his reputation was too overblown. In a rage, my aquantance ripped open his pants and whipped out his cock --", Di Feisheng pauses and looks down at his arm, thoughtfully tracing a finger in the vicinity of his elbow, or maybe his armpit. Di Feisheng blandly continues, "--his cock comes out and he slaps it over the side of the ship's railing." (And the word cock coming out of his mouth makes both Fang Duobing and Li Lianhua twitch for different reasons.) Di Feisheng pauses again and looks sideways at nothing as he reaches his limit for words and struggles for more, "--Heaven was watching and was unhappy with him? There was a shark." "A-a shark?" "Big fish. Lots of teeth. It jumped out the water in a big arc the moment the meat came out and--- when it went back into the water, it took this aquaintence's cock with it." Fan Duobing's mouth had fallen open and remained open for the entirety of this telling. He shuts it with a snap. "It was a freak accident. But truly," Di Feisheng's brows arch questioningly. When there is no response, he says slyly, with great logic, "Why would I want anything to do with that?" Why indeed? Fang Duobing sits down. Li Lianhua has no response either, but not because he is struggling to decide whether this tale has any truth. It's because he realizes, with a sudden flood of fondness that he hides behind his tea, Lao Di may be inexperienced but he isn't innocent.

basically dfs is gonna fuck with fdb's brain about his 'innocence' for the foreseeable future. fdb is a 3-star intelligence against dfs' 5 stars. someone help him.

anyway.

[und3ad-mutt]

surrender.

nsft / oral / blasphemy / religious kink

a nun, tending her duties. alone. the cathedral is dark. quiet. not for long. i've watched her from afar. from the shadows. patient. waiting. the others are far enough away. we are alone. together.

i'm not rude, though. i know better than to arrive in blazing flames or to try and sneak up on a lady. i do the polite thing. the stained glass above rattles in its frame. the cathedral goes utterly still. she notices it: the way the air itself seems to thicken, almost flex around her.

her back is to the pews. i stand among them. twice her height. powerful. humanoid enough. i am a darkness. a mist, creeping up towards her. i smell her fear. i can hear her heartbeat quicken.

i approach. slowly. she is frozen as she hears my steps. as my barbed tail swishes across the floor. my horns curve up proudly. my eyes are blacker and deeper than the night itself. my hand is clawed, skin smooth and unnaturally warm, as i clasp my hand over her mouth. i'm real. i'm right here. you know what i am.

"sister..." my voice is quiet. a velvety murmur in her ear. "where are your manners? is this not a house... for lowly sinners to be welcomed?"

i can smell her sweat. she swallows. her hands drift up to her rosary, clutching it tightly, muttering prayers, rebuking me, even in my polite approach. tch. my hands take her forearms, slowly pushing them down. she resists, but i'm much stronger than her, and she realizes quickly that it's useless: her reward is the meeting of my hips behind her. my stiff dick against her black garb. she gasps, and though she tells herself it is only out of fear, we both know better. she tries to rebuke me again, and i silence her with my fangs nipping at her neck, barely drawing blood. i lick it up, tsking at her quietly. "god isn't here, sister. and you... well... the sort of faith to repel a creature like me..." our little secret... my voice lowers to a whisper: "is the same faith you gave up in that lovely dream last night."

i continue, voice shifting to all reassuring tones. i don't want to scare off my little bunny too soon. "such a shame, too, sister. you'd done so well... so many years of such strict chastity... tell me you aren't curious, sister. tell me you don't want a proper taste." i grin at her, teasing, mocking. "tell me you aren't completely desperate, driven mad with lust." one of my hands is on her hip. the other drifts between her legs. her breath quivers. "but lying is a sin, isn't it?" her legs tremble. i smile. her breath shudders with anticipation.

"oh, sister." my claws rip through her habit with ease and she squeaks for me, muttering fervent prayers. my claws digging in, drawing blood, as i grab her thigh, finally spinning her around to face me. i recognize her excitement. i smile with a mouth of sharp fangs. i let go of her thigh, guide her by the hips. my little plaything. "let me take care of you, my dear. i can tell how long you've ached for it. craved for it. stared at that ceiling with fire between your legs. denying yourself."

i pin her against the alter. she's breathing quickly. "and for what, darling? if the heavens heard you... where are they? what rewards have you reaped?" my grin widens, sharp. "i'll save you some time, sister. there is a god. and he's right... here..."

i sink to my knees. a long tongue, prehensile, forked, long, unfolds from my fanged maw. i savor the look in her eyes as i drag my tongue up her thigh, swiping up the blood from the scratches. i whisper. "just relax, sister. i'm going to make all your dreams come true."

i lick my way up her thigh, i smell her arousal. i breathe in her heat. her scent. her sheer, overwhelming lust. the very same scent that had brought me to these lands at all: she'd called for me. i'd answered. we were a match made in heaven— or hell, if you wanted to be cute about it.

"so wet for me already? my, you are eager, aren't you?" i tease, smiling up at her. i easily push her legs slightly apart, holding onto her inner thighs with reverence. my claws discard of any fabric interference. i lean in, eyes half closed. my tongue slides between her folds. thick wetness teasing and toying with her already stiff clit. her will crumbles into mine. her hips push into my face.

as my tongue slips into her pussy, her moans echo through the cathedral. her pleads for more are music to my ears. her vows, discarded. my tongue goes deeper and deeper inside her, thrusting sloppily, paying plenty of attention to her needy clit. my tongue just keeps unfolding, thick and tentacle-like.

saliva can be a powerful thing: the saliva of an incubus that is. i feed on her lust. i amplify it, i make it louder and louder until all that fear just evaporates. you humans are just so cute like that. she's dizzy with need and her knees give out: she's never felt so good, so much pleasure, all at once. she cums for the first time since taking her vows. years upon years of effort. of prayer and worship.

i swallow her essence. i grin up at her. her respite is brief, my lavish attentions pausing only to speak. "so many years to make up for, my darling. how many times shall i make you cum before your knees give out entirely? my bet is on three. you?"

she smiles sheepishly, dazed, dizzy with new sensations, legs trembling in my grip, holding herself up by leaning on the alter. she laughs, quietly, and answers with "two." which earns a laugh from me and a large, mischievous grin.

"well let's find out, shall we?"

[letstalktea]

You are so small

Content: Eldritch!Jordan x Reader, implied Sydney x Reader, chastity belts, Word Count: 2.6k

It was supposed to be a quick job, if not easy. Find the key for yours and Sydney’s chastity belts that Jordan must have been hiding so you could remove them and finally do what you two had been craving for weeks. You were both at your wits end and Jordan was unconvinced to give you both the freedom you sought, so you offered to sneak into the back and find where he hid the key holding you hostage. It would be simple for a pickpocket of your caliber once the lights went out and everyone was tucked away for the night.

You were expecting to find a few baubles and trinkets from years ago stashed away where they had been forgotten and left to gather dust, maybe a habit or robe in some storage closet (since the church seemed to have so many) before finally finding whatever room or office Jordan used to hide his keys.

What you were not expecting was to find someone wandering around the backrooms of the church in the dead of night. And, to be fair, you didn’t find someone, but rather something. Something that stood in the shadows of the open door frame and turned to stare directly at you the moment you gasped in shock.

It wasn't one eye but many peering through you from within the darkness. It wasn't one voice but that of the unknowable universe echoing around you as it opened its massive maw. It wasn't one set of fangs that you were staring at, but an infinite row of razor-like teeth so grand they put mountains to shame, all reaching so far back into the giant void of its mouth that they faded away into nothingness. It wasn't saliva dripping from the roof of that cavernous mouth, but acid and bile that felt like it would melt you to nothing simply by beholding its majesty. It was the very walls surrounding you and the floor on which your feet stood. You were already being consumed by it.

You dared not move for fear the creature – whatever It was – would stir at the slightest twitch of your fingers or the beads of sweat falling along your brow. Instead, you simply stared unblinkingly at something you knew deep down that you were never supposed to even imagine existed.

It screeched something horrible, like a window being broken in the middle of the night when you're home alone. The sound wasn't a language, not even a simulacra of one, but an emotion so pure and ancient that you couldn't begin to think of the words to encapsulate it. It was fear and wonder and pain and devotion all knotted and twisted together; all burrowing into your head and tearing apart your mind until It made a spot for Itself.

You curled in on yourself, making your own body a shield against something you didn't understand or comprehend. But an incompetent shield could barely be said to protect the treasure held within. Your mind was flooded with beautifully terrible thoughts that tore you to shreds before putting you back together in all the wrong ways. And in that cacophony of disparate pieces shoddily stitched back together, you could feel its teeth digging into whatever it was that made you who you were and refusing to let go of the prey it had found.

“What are you doing?” A voice, one that was human and familiar to you, asked. “You aren’t allowed back here.”

You raised your head from under your arms, opening a single eye to peek at Jordan – without his cowl, hair braided down his back, and dressed in a long thick nightgown – looking at you with a mixture of disappointment and concern that you could only see by the grace of the candlelight in his hand. You quickly darted your head around in an attempt to find the creature that you had just beheld, but it was nowhere to be seen. The only things in that backroom, aside from a few old knick knacks and random crosses hung on the wall, were you and Jordan.

"I was just…" You couldn't think of an excuse, not when the image of that thing was still dancing like a shambling corpse in your head. "You saw that, didn't you?"

If you didn’t have an excuse, then changing the subject would have to do. Or, rather you needed to confirm that you hadn't just seen what your mind was refusing to believe.

"I saw you sneaking around where you shouldn't be." He sighed with a deep frown, but his eyes were pitious as they looked at you. "You must have gotten lost, because someone as godly as you wouldn't break the church's rules so flagrantly. Allow me to help you find your way." 

He held his hand out to you and you mindlessly took it so he could help you to your feet and pull you forward. His skin felt frigid, like walking on ice with bare feet, but you kept a hold of him because it felt like the only option you had.

The direction he led you was different than the one you'd come from, as if you were being brought deeper into the back.

You were about to ask him where he was leading you as he opened a door you didn’t recognize, but he spoke before you could process the thought. "You never answered me. What are you doing back here?"

"I was looking for something and got lost." A half-truth was the best bet in this case. 

"Oh? And what were you looking for?" 

His voice sounded strange as it chewed its way through your mind and ripped an answer out of you like a hungry predator. "I was trying to find the key for mine and Sydney’s belt."

Your hand shot up to cover your mouth, unsure why you had told him the truth.

He hummed as if processing what you said as he walked down the hall with you in tow. "You and Sydney? I would have expected more from you two. You're usually so devout.” He paused. “Although, Sydney has been acting rather strange since you two began to spend time with one another. I wonder why that is.”

You shrugged your shoulders, hoping he couldn’t see the guilt written across your face. It wasn’t your fault that Sydeney was so repressed that every tap of your fingers against his desk filled his head with lewd thoughts. It was your fault that you encouraged those lewd thoughts though.

“Don’t feel so embarrassed,” he said as he went through yet another door. “You’re both young. It’s natural to be curious. The important part is that you don’t give into those base urges so readily. That’s why you wear that belt; to protect you from yours and others moments of weakness.”

“Well, we asked about removing them…” You looked around as you walked and talked. It was strange that you hadn’t reached the front yet. In fact, it felt like you were venturing further into the building.

“That’s your rashness speaking.” He opened another door that led to a room that was nearly empty aside from a desk. There were no other entrances or exits, not even a window. Jordan only used his candlelight to guide his way toward the desk and opened it with a dispassionate face. From inside he retrieved a small key. “But if you are so desperate to be free, I suppose I could make an exception.”

He walked back over to you, holding out the key for you to take.

You nearly snatched it from him, but he stopped you by pulling it back.

“I would like you to hear me out first. Then you can decide if you really want to do this.”

You pursed your lips, but nodded. He had the very thing you were looking for after all, and he was offering it wholeheartedly. It wasn’t as if he could say anything to change your mind since you only joined the church for the allowance anyway.

“Your belt connects you to the church, the very faith. Removing it is a personal choice, but you will lose your connection to this place. Your purity will be at risk.”

Considering what you were planning to do with Sydney, you hoped your purity was at risk.

You shook your head. “I know what I’m giving up. I’m willing to take those risks.”

“I see. Then perhaps you are ready.” He grabbed your hand and dropped the key into your palm. Then he held the candle out to you and you, without thinking, took it from him.

It was almost shocking how easily he gave in.

Without warning, he dropped to his knees before you. He pulled your shorts down so that he could see your chastity belt latched carefully into place.

“Huh?” You gasped in shock.

“Sorry. I’m trying to help. You can’t keep the belt, after all, so you have to take it off now. If you’re uncomfortable, you can blow out the candle. That should allow you to keep some sense of shame.”

You would much rather he not be pulling down your clothing, but that was the kind of town this was. At least it was Jordan, who was seemingly so afraid of any amount of nudity that he usually covered himself from head to toe. Of all the people in this town, he was the one you were least afraid of.

It was still weird to have him looking at you though.

“Will you be okay without the lights?” You asked.

“Will you?” He replied.

Considering you broke in without them, you were sure you would be okay for long enough to take off the obtrusive belt that had quickly become the bane of your existence.

You blew out the candle.

As soon as the light was out, Jordan’s image blurred, splitting and refracting until thousands of copies of him filled your vision. And of those copies, each and every one glared at you. You were the sole target of his uncountable amount of eyes.

“Can you hear me? See me?” He asked with many voices and you shuddered. “Good.”

You felt something warm and sticky lap at the junction of your thigh where your skin met the metal of the belt. You shivered at the sensation even though it felt like lava.

"You're mine. Both of you," he whispered and your head swam with beautiful nightmares. "No one else may touch my flock but me. Not even you may have each other."

Your legs went weak at the sound of his voice, which filled the air around you and bounced off each wall until it found your ears and burrowed deep into your brain. Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find the words to speak, but how did an insect speak to a god? You couldn't figure it out.

"You are both precious to me and your time will come, but don't rush. For now, you two are better when you long for one another but cannot touch the way I can." He ran his long tongue over the outside of your belt and it felt like your sex was on fire. "It makes you taste all the sweeter when you finally give over your devotion in exchange for release."

Even though he was on his knees before you, it felt like he was towering over you; it felt like he was smiling down at you with dripping fangs ready to chew you up and spit you out; like you were nothing before him.

"I'll ask again: what are you doing here?"

The part of you that was infected wriggled in joy so powerfully that it forced a smile onto your terrified face. "I came to commit a sin, but now I only wish to repent." You dropped the key from your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks as you spoke words that you didn't understand but felt were true. How could you not weep with joy when you'd just seem the face of God?

"Precious Child," Jordan – or the thing calling itself Jordan – said, "you are already forgiven."

He kissed the lock of your chastity belt and it felt like it was melting directly into your skin. It wasn't just a tool to keep away the town's lecherous perverts but a part of you – a part of him just as the church walls were. It was a divine edict given to you by your god.

“You and he have your parts to play. Do not rush ahead or try to break free. You will both be free to love each other as soon as you understand who you adore first and foremost.” He rose to his feet, pulling up your shorts as he did. All his terrible eyes and his granious voice burrowed into your muscles and tendons and joints. “Who do you love?”

“You.” The words felt natural as you spoke them. “Only you.”

He held your cheeks with tenderness as his fingers – if you could call them that – scraped across your eyes and brushed away your sight. Whatever holy abomination you had seen in him was quickly moved into your periphery – just out of sight enough to be out of mind, but still visible enough to make you jump when you thought you saw it moving.

The wobbly feeling in your legs finally became overpowering and threatened to drag you to the ground. Or, it would have if Jordan hadn’t been there to catch you.

Now all that was left was his smiling face, framed by specks of golden blonde hair and blue eyes that seemed to stare in your direction but not truly looking at you. His disingenuous smile made your heart flutter, as if it was meant only for you when you knew that it was simply a nicety that had become permanently etched into his face.

“You seem to be falling asleep on your feet. I’m not surprised given how late it is.” He helped steady you on your feet and turned you around to face the front door – when had you gotten here? – “It was wonderful to see you, but perhaps next time you should come during the day. I’d be happy to speak to you after you attend tomorrow’s – or, today’s – sermon. You will be there, won’t you?”

It felt like worms were crawling through your brain listening to him, but you couldn’t reject his request. It felt wrong to do anything but exactly what he wanted. “Of course I will.”

“Wonderful. I’ll be waiting for you. Maybe Sydney too?”

Alarm bells rang in the back of your mind, warning you that something was wrong with what he had said; telling you not to bring this up to Sydney; screaming at you to leave him out of whatever dark hole you had unknowingly found yourself stumbling into. But your rational mind couldn’t understand that misplaced fear.

“I’m sure he’d love to.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Jordan said. “I will see you then.”

“Yes. In the morning.”

As you began to walk away, through the darkness of the church hall, you swore you could see shadows shifting and twisting just out of the corner of your eye. But when you snapped your head toward the motion, all you could see was Jordan watching you head outside with a smile on his face because he knew you would be back.

You had no other choice – no other desire – anymore.

[slenderfurdirty]

Since this blog seems to be gaining a small amount of traction, I suppose it’s time I make an actual intro/pinned post.

Obligatory Minors DNI: seriously, there is shit in this blog that will fuck you up mentally and emotionally. I speak from experience.

I go by Fang, mostly. More on that later.

My clean blog (mostly for fandom stuff or the like) is @slenderfurclean

My writing blog (that I swear I’m gonna start using again) is @thewornoutandtired

While I’m accepting of most people, I don’t consider anything I’m involved with a safe space for anybody’s mental health. Consider this a warning.

I try to respond to asks as I see them, but I work long hours so it may take time.

Still with me after all that? Then welcome! You can get more info on me below.

Names

You can call me Fang, Pup, Angel, or Bro (Little or Big Bro is fine too). Most pet names (baby, sweetie, darling, etc.) are fine too.

Please do not call me pet, toy, slave, or degrading names unless I have given you permission to do so.

If you wanna call me something else that you don’t think is covered here, just ask me. I’ll tell you yay or nay, with no hard feelings.

Actual intro

I’m a 26 year old bisexual submissive guy, though I call myself a switch because on rare occasions I like to think about domming. I live in the US, and spend what little time I’m not working either reading, writing, gaming, or laying in bed craving death. I try to keep politics out of my tumblr life, but there’ll probably be some in here eventually.

Kinks you’ll see in here:

It’d be impossible to list em all, especially with how nuanced kink is becoming, so I’m just gonna hit some of the big ones and warn you that you’ll find all kinds of stuff in here.

Femdom

Pegging

Humiliation & degradation

Praise kink

Crossdressing/feminization

Omorashi/watersports

Teratophilia/monsters

Furry

Chastity

Exhibitionism

Fauxcest

Overstim

CnC/dubcon

Intox

Petplay

Masochism

Hard Limits

Things I won’t do. I’m a snarky bastard, so if you push me on them, expect to get told off if I don’t just block you. This list will expand as things come up.

Snuff

Gore

Vore

Scat

Diapers

Vomit

Musk

Feedism

Feet

Findom (I’m so fucking broke)

Minors (seriously, leave the kids alone)

Branding

Extreme damage

Rape (giving)

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Ghost Walk

The burning garland lowered onto Kay's head. He held himself stock stick and the fire licked toward the grey sky. Four enormous candles the color of churned butter settled into place. The cold wire of the crown cut into forehead and the light cast long shadows across the unbroken snow.

The pastor smiled at him, all teeth and a kindliness that could smother.

Low moans carried over from behind them. Kay forced himself to look up instead of over his shoulder. The stars above were dull compared to the orange of the Holy Fire. Kay bit down on the inside of his cheek and the pastor patted his shoulder.

“Not long now.” The Pastor fixed Kay’s collar and Kay emptied out his eyes, making himself look small and pitiful. He patted Kay’s shoulder again, long face growing longer.

Good. Kay thought. Feel bad.

“You want me to take any messages to your mum, lad?”

Kay grimaced. “Would that do anything?”

The Pastor glanced over his shoulder. Hills of snow piled up along a trodden path with enormous pine trees like sentries on either side. The dark of the mountain ate up the small shrines in the distance. It wasn’t a long walk.

Flecks of snow swirled around his head. The Pastor wiped his wrinkled brow. The first drop of hot wax hit his ear and Kay winced.

“Can we get it over with?” That made the pastor frown harder, and Kay reminded himself to gentle his voice. “I’m scared.”

“Take heart, lad. The Judgment leaves peace.” The pastor presented a yellow-toothed grin and Kay resisted rolling his eyes. Of course this would be the last face he ever sees.

“Can’t wait for that peace.” Alright, so the resentment slipped in.

The Pastor gave his shoulder a final pat. “It’s not very far.”

“I know.”

“The Judgment is quick.” “It always is.” Kay squared his shoulders, and the low moans became many–he tried not to imagine hunger in the voices. In the vowels. In the beasts. A second drop of hot wax hit his cheek and Kay growled.

“Let’s get this over with!” he yelled to the heavens.

The Pastor looked away in distaste. He bent down, knees clicking as he went, and unlocked the ankle bracelets one at a time. Kay kicked his feet, and the joy of freedom was brief. There was only one place to go, and it would probably be worse than Miss Joy’s cellar.

Too young for execution. Too old for mercy.

“I’ll see you in the morning, lad.” The Pastor backed up toward the trees. He retreated to the city and a warm bed and away from the Judgement Walk. His voice faded as he went. “I’ll see you then.”

All religious men were liars.

Kay refused to look over his shoulder. The voices were a low rumble, a song if you squint, a promise if you ran. Midnight edged toward them. Kay fixed the burning garland and his nerves jangled in some private put-away place. The wind hushed and the voices rose, wisps gathered around his ankles.

Kay held himself perfectly still. Let them come. Let it be over with.

Sweat gathered under his arms despite the winter chill. A vapor rose outside the circle of candlelight. There seemed to be a nose in the fog. An eye. A face.

Kay looked over his shoulder. Maybe he was too young. They looked back at him. The whisps were empty-eyed and thin as rails, gape-mouthed and tissue-thin. Floating and shapeless. The spirits of the dead gathered to be led home. A bell chimed, three gongs one right after the other.

Kay took a deep breath in through his nose, prayed to the damned candles on his head, and walked.

------

The smell was pleasant on the breeze. A heady type of scent like incense or a strong mead. Ian stumbled over the snowbanks, drawn forward. In life, he liked to believe in silver linings.

Winter overlaid a deep silence over the land. The hills and even city held their breathe, leaving Ian alone to his misery. He was getting further and further from Bern with each step, maybe Cecelia would take that as an apology.

The scent blew back into his face and Ian’s fangs poked out from his gums. He fell into a white-shorn shrine to some saint of chastity and skidded to a halt. There was a human in the near distant. Long candles fastened to a wire wreath around his head.

Ian straightened up. The flames danced a brilliant orange and streaks of yellow wax striped the boy’s cheeks. There was a winding path among the shrines and the boy took small stiff-legged steps.

Things followed in the boy’s wake. A ghost walk.

Bells chimed in the distance and a parade of crumpled anemic ghosts trailed after the boy. They floated outside the light in one large fog. Ah, Ian thought dully. He had seen this in other cities. The dead became restless in winters. They walked the earth during the coldest nights, calling for their long-lost loves. If you let them keep wandering and fouling the earth, then they’d be a mess in spring. Rivers would flood. Grain would go bad. Children might disappear. Spring would be an enormous headache if the beasts weren't put to sleep.

From what Ian had seen, the Parade of the Dead was usually followed by processions of cheering partygoers. The crowds sang and set-up food stands and the little candle-girl-in-white led the procession with a grin. They were putting their loved ones to sleep after all.

But perhaps these northern cities knew better.

Ian crept forward. The heady scent grew stronger, the candles burning, and his fangs poking into his bottom lip. The night was one of possibilities. Of silver linings. He walked parallel to the procession in the shadow of the trees, eyeing the display. Sweat dripped down the stranger’s neck and wax burned his reddened ears. Ian’s blood thrummed in his veins and the boy’s throat bobbed.

Ian tripped. Over his own two feet. He sprawled across the path. Cecelia could never know.

The boy stopped in place and his mouth fell open. Ian went to his knees and hissed. The boy fisted his hands and roared, “Get in line, man!”

Ian put up his hands. “Peace, peace.”

The boy’s face went red. “You couldn’t wait, eh?”

“Peace, peace.” Ian put his hands into prayer, retracting his fangs and looking the boy up and down. “I’m here . . . to save you?”

“Oh, fuck off.” The boy kept walking.

Ian stood and prowled around him, gaze trailing up the candles and down his throat. He was rarely hungry like this.

“Do they make all the village boys do this?” He prodded. There was more than one way into a vein. Cecelia might even change her mind.

“I dunno. Do they make all demons such morons?”

Ian raised his eyebrow. “Only the problem ones then.”

“You’re not from here,” the boy grumbled.

“I’m not from here.” He grew a slim smile. “You want to tell me a story of your last hours, boy?”

“Kay,” he huffed. “I’ll at least have a name on my Judgment Day. And you better get in line with the rest of the devils if you want a whack at it.”

Whack at it. Ian’s fangs prickled. He fell into step with Kay. He glanced over their shoulder, lowering his voice, “they truly throw their own to the dogs?” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I could make it quick.”

“I’m sure,” Kay groused and winced when a glob of wax hit his jaw. “You’d be real gentlemanly about it. Hold my hand like my gran and all that.”

“Oh, I could hold more than your hand if you like.”

“You use that in the parlors?” Kay raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. He grinned slyly. “You must’ve used that in the parlors. Look at the state of you.”

Ian took a step back. His shirt was real silk and his pants tailored to a fault. But the suit tails lay in tattered and dirt-streaked his hands and feet. Rough patches happen.

“What is your name, demon?” Kay wrinkled his nose. “And what’s wrong with you to be all the way out here?”

Ian huffed. “Ian Malcolm of the Swan Estate.”

“Get bent, no way.” Kay nearly tripped. “Wait!” He shook a finger in the air. “I’ve heard of you, from the hospital girls. You’re one of those, trumped-up fancy demons–”

“Vampire.” He smiled as wide as he could, pushing his fangs long into the light.

“No, no, I know that.” Kay sounded offended. “What did they call you? Something like vulture or hyena, eh?” He glanced at Ian’s slight frame and beardless face. “Maybe not Hyena. I guess there are downsides to be stuck at an age.”

“I am going to puncture your body like a–” Kay snapped.

“Coyote!” He grinned and took a step forward. “You’re a shit vamp. They really don’t like you.”

“Cecelia and I . . . had a misunderstanding.”

“The Grande dame of the vamps?” Kay whistled. “Just as I walk to my judgment, I get the perfect gossip for Lily. She’d be all ears on your set-up.”

“I’ll be sure to send your girl your regards once you’ve been indisposed.”

“My girl? Lily’s my source of Powder.” Kay had stopped in place and was grinning like the candles weren’t half-burnt to stumps. “So, what was it? You get turned out for being a tramp? Or turned out for being bad at being a tramp for you lot.”

“At least I wasn’t turned into a human sacrifice.”

Kay’s eyes shone as he looked ahead. There was some kind of clearing and a shrine in the very center of the field. The statue of a woman stood on shorn-white shrine, and she appeared to be weeping.

“I guess we're a pair of poor tramps.” He sighed. “You got a way out?”

Ian looked at his feet. “I am an immortal being,” he mumbled. “I always have a way out.”

“Huh. Sure. Lucky are the outcasts.” Kay started walking again. “They do this every year to a criminal or two. Always the young ones since they might get judged well, too young to lose my head, yeah?”

“You don’t look young.”

“Sixteen. I suppose that wouldn’t be young to you, you get turned at 12?”

“Seventeen,” Ian hissed, and the other boy laughed. “So? Did you kill someone?

“Something like that.” Kay lifted his eyebrows up and wax hit his temple.

“Set an entire barn of orphans on fire?”

“They were actually baby orphans and then I pushed a group of old ladies down the well.”

“After releasing plague into the streets.” Ian glanced over at the restless silvery ghosts behind them. They kept away from the light of the candles, burning ever lower.

Kay smiled and there was a dimple just below his right cheek. “Then I become an undead creature who was shit at killing.”

“That,” heat rose in Ian's cheeks. “That wasn’t it!”

“No, no worries, love. I’m the one doing the Judgment walk. You don’t need to defend yourself to me.”

“I wasn’t bad at.” He kept time with the boy as they reached the clearing. “I’m just, a gentlemen!” He burst out. “I needn’t lower myself–”

“What did the hospital girls say? You had to drop the bloodletting in the river or else the Coyote will scavenge it. Even pour the old pig’s blood down the drain. Otherwise, the Coyote would dig through all the rubbish and leave a mess behind.”

“It’s not like they were using the blood.”

“Ridiculous.” Kay tossed his head back and laughed. Ian reached out and righted the garland of flames before it fell into the snow.

Kay corrected his stance and went rigid. Ian could smell the warmth of his breath– a heavy wine scent and something sharper. There was wax gathered in Kay’s eyelashes and his cheeks were lit by an orangey glow. Ian inhaled and a warmth flooded into his fingertips.

“Thanks.” Kay looked over his shoulder. He took an audible breath. The other boy passed Ian and gave a sneaky smile over one shoulder. “Coyote.” Ian straightened his suit and cleared his throat. “Ian,” he corrected.

“Dead meat.”

“I could call you the same thing.”

“You don’t say . . .” His smile faded and his brow creased. The candles were almost down to wicks. He stepped into the clearing without looking back. “Time to pay the piper.”

--------

The waiting was the worst part. His heart squeezed in his chest. He clenched his hands to stop the trembling. He felt the candles burn low and counted stray snowflake. Our Lady of the Long Rest watched from behind him—her robes outstretched like wings. Kay tried not to breathe too hard. Smudgy ghosts circled like wolves. Their voices cooed, mixing with the brittle wind. They wafted closer with each splutter of the light.

He could throw the garland to the ground. He could go hurtling into the woods and see how far he got. He could get it over with. Kay's hands stayed immobile at his sides.

The ragged gentlemen vampire leaned against the nearest tree. Looking smug and wealthy enough to be a git without knowing it.

Kay called out, “don’t know how much blood they’ll leave you, scavenger.”

“You want me to eat you so bad?”

“Nah. I’d rather be eaten by a were. Or a mermaid? Something with some real bite.”

Ian bristled. “Sure. They’ll use your corpse for a tea party afterward. You look like you’d like that.”

“You say the sweetest things.” He presented a slim mocking smile; he would at least die doing something he's good at. “Tell my mum I at least avoided being eaten by a fancy ponce."

Ian matched his grin, spreading his lips thin over sharp teeth. “I’ll tell your mom you died as you lived. Complaining.”

Kay rolled his eyes. “You really want to stick around for this? I’ve only begun to complain.” Ian shrugged and leaned back on the tree. Git.

Kay’s gaze travel over the circling of ghosts. Their eyes were empty, and forms wrung out of any humanity, leaving no corporeal hunger but a hunger that never sleeps. Never feels. He shuddered and glared back at the vampire.

“So? Leave.” Kay wasn’t sure he wanted to be alone, but he wasn’t sure he wanted an audience either.

“I’m thinking,” the vampire said in a low voice. “On one hand, you do seem tiresome. I might enjoy watching the light leaving your eyes.”

“I might be judged fairly you know,” Kay muttered. “You never know.”

“Judged fairly?” Ian raised an eyebrow.

“You know. They recognize all the good shit in my soul and only take a bit of me. Let me go home and all that.” Ghosts only needed to sup a little blood to go to sleep. At least, that’s what they told Kay before sending him out here.

“Huh,” Ian said mildly, and a silence settled between him. The vampire raised both eyebrows.

“Alright, alright! You don’t have to be a prat about it. I know how it sounds.” He glared down at his borrowed boots. Miss Joy had lent them and then patted him on the head. He said he wanted to see his mom before he left. She smiled back to him in the way adults do.

“Huh,” Ian said again in a slightly different tone.

“HUH,” Kay barked back. “You know I think I’ll just ask the ghosties to eat all of me as a favor. You don’t get the bits and pieces left over.” Kay narrowed his eyes and added a bit meanly, “you look like you like the bits. Probably the head too.”

“Sure. The head, the neck, though they both look pretty scrawny. Is that why you’re they’re little sacrifice? Since they won't miss much."

Kay laughed. They could be cut from the same cloth. His breath snagged at the end and a glob of wax burned his cheek. One of the three candles sloughed off into the snow and went out with a sizzle. Kay held himself perfectly still. He took a long breath.

“Why don’t you kill me?” A long silence descended. “If you make it quick . . . I wouldn’t mind. There's a knife I stole in my shoe. I nicked it off a Judge’s man at the hearing. You can have it."

“Tempting,” the vampire deadpanned. “You were going to fight ghosts with a knife.”

Kay gave a small shrug. “Maybe. Maybe I was going to fight off evil demons. Maybe I would just cut off their poncy shirts first.”

“You really want to get my shirt off?”

“Only fair since you seem to want my bits.” They both snickered and covered their mouths. This was fun. He was about to die and this might be fun. Kay noticed how the boy’s smile stretched crookedly across an aristocratic face. “How old are you really?”

“Seventeen. I told you.”

“Don’t give me that, bloodsucker. How long you been seventeen?”

“They all ask that,” he said with no short supply of disgust. “. . . a few months.”

“HA!” Kay burst out. “Months? You’re not even immortal then. Just normal dead thing that’s forgotten to lie down.”

“At least I won’t have to be one of those things.”

Kay had been avoiding looking at the circling mass. He’d been focusing on the boy’s voice and not the low moans. The voices called out. Their mouths were vacant blackholes and the world was growing darker. Kay reached up and fixed the second candle. His fingers came away globbed in melted wax and he wiped them down on his pants.

“Is that why you aren’t a killer?” he teased. “You’re barely out of vampire diapers.”

Ian took a few steps into the clearing, fixing his jacket as he went. “You’re lucky. Most vampires go on murder sprees during their first couple years. Really nasty things. Attack women. Children. Mouthy idiots.” The ‘like you’ was implied.

“I would make a better vampire than you, I bet.” Kay leaned forward.

“You’ll surely make a better meal for haunts that’s for–”

The crown became lighter all at once and Kay's hand shot out. He caught the burning blob of the second candle and yelped. The flame was already out. He glanced up and the third candle had gone out at the same time.

“Sorry," Ian said mulishly. "Didn't mean to distract." His pity was probably the worst thing. Kay looked left and right. He reached for his starched collar and loosened it. The cold prickled against his skin.

“Make it quick.” There was only one more candle left. He unbuttoned the first two buttons of the white coat they gave him. “Get some wood and I’ll bite down, just make it quick.”

In a surprising turn, the very pale vampire seemed to grow paler. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” His eyes flicked toward the moaning mass. “Being eaten by one dead thing is better than being torn apart by a bunch of ‘em.”

Ian stuttered, “You said they might Judge you favorably?”

“We both know that’s a load of horseshit! They say that so they don’t have to feel bad about it. So they don’t have to think about us.” He took a step back. The Lady of the Long Rest stood ready to embrace him. He would fall. They would come.

“I’m not that hungry. . .” Ian seemed to be having an argument with someone else.

Kay waved him forward. “I won’t even struggle, I promise. Please. An easy meal.”

Ian was slack-jawed. He muttered to himself, “Here? Even here?”

Kay took another step back and the candles atop his head wobbled. He met the vampires bright maroon eyes. “You really don’t eat people?”

Ian scuffed his shoes on the ground. “I don’t . . .” He took a deep breath. “I don’t necessarily kill people.”

“Why!? Just my luck! A vamp with a consciousness.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Kay had heard that exact phrase lobbed at him. There was some satisfaction in lobbing it back.

“It’s gross!” The vampire's cheeks managed a dull flush. “It’s gross and messy and there’s blood and sometimes bowels and no one warns you about the begging or screaming. And the snot! It’s awful. I don’t know why the others even like doing it.” He ran out of breath  and wheezed.

Kay punctuated each word, "You are a vampire."

"Have you ever seen someone die?"

“What if I promised not to shit myself?” Kay wasn’t sure about promises he couldn't keep. The last candle flickered and he gulped. His voice shook on the next word. “Please?" He presented his throat. "It’ll be a mercy. I won’t get snotty.”

Ian took a step forward. “I,” he stepped through the tangled mass of ghosts and searched the air. “I’m not sure I can. If I can’t do it to save myself from exile. I don’t think I can. . .” His jaw worked and Kay understood something he wish he had before.

The vampire was standing in front of him, his fangs extended and expression crumpled.

“I didn’t mean to you know," Kay said in a small voice, going to his knees. All he could see was the gaping holes of the ghost's mouths. All he could see was their terror. He closed his eyes. “The Pastor didn’t understand. Mum hadn’t been home in days. The doctors paid good money for a body. It wasn’t murder. Just some digging. Some hauling. Some shady men– but they’re all shady.”

“They’re killing you for being a grave robber?”

“I didn’t mean to,” his voice grew softer. He reached out a hand, unseeing. It might be nice not to die alone. No more ghosts. No more vacant eyes. He promised he wouldn't look.

She was the smallest of the wisps. Her hair was lank and there was still the outline of a frilly white dress.

“The City always did like its irony. Sending me here. Like this."  Kay chuckled. "You disturb the wrong grave and suddenly there's a hungry ghost on the loose. You can’t really lie about it. It knows who upturned it’s resting place. They know it was who loosed that thing on the streets." He swallowed thickly. "I didn't mean to."

The little girl ghost was swirling by his knees now as the cold leached into his skin. He wanted to beg her: I'm sorry. I was hungry. I was alone. I didn’t even get to see my mum before they hauled me away and locked me in that cellar.

Kay knew why they didn’t take him to the constable or the prisons. There were better uses for someone too young for punishment and too old for mercy.

He closed his eyes. A strong wind whipped across his face and the last of the candles went out.

—----------

Ian had been hopeful in life. Silver linings and prayers at church. He always had a sense that maybe it wasn’t so bad what he became. He didn’t even remember being bitten. And maybe not so bad that the sight of blood made his stomach go sour.

Cecelia said he was too weak for the coven. Too embarrassing to stay in the city. Ian watched as the boy’s face contorted in sorrow and the dark of the night swept in from all around him. Maybe Cecelia had been right.

Ian could never make a kill. They begged him for mercy and who was he to deny them? But there was someone begging him for mercy right now. And the idea of ripping out his throat still sent Ian into a disgusted frenzy.

One of the ghosts ripped at the boy's arm and he let out a sharp cry, jumping back from their outstretched hands. The ghouls were hungry. There were only so many ways to satiated them. Ian took a step forward.

A much smaller ghost tested the waters. She dove on his wrist and yanked. Kay cried out this time, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Kay?” Ian found his voice. Kay’s eyes were unseeing and spilling tears. He was so young.

“I’m sorry.”

One of the larger ghosts, held together by nothing-vapors, swept forward. The ancient thing pressed its crude mouth to Kay’s neck. The skin tore and Kay pushed on empty air, trying to force the evil away. The ghost swept back and blood dripped down Kay’s throat and colored the white coat a deep red.

Ian wrinkled his nose, forcing down the nausea and the fact he wasn't supposed to care. He was a vampire. The ghosts gave a high-pitched wail and closed in around the boy. He wasn't supposed to care, and he couldn't punch the incorporeal either and yet . . .

Ian dove forward and grabbed the boy's arm, trying to haul him to his feet. “We’ll run.”

“They’ll chase.”

The scent of blood was heady and overpowering and the disgust fought with Ian’s hunger in tug of war as it always did. Kay’s blood spilled across his hand as he put an arm around the boy’s shoulder.

“The City needs this.” Kay bowed his head, some spark lost.

“Run!”

Kay moaned at the bottom of his voice, "end it.” He collapsed back into Ian’s arms. Another ghost had torn the glove off his hand and scratched a long line down his forefinger. He roared. “Eat me you stupid twat!”

“I’m not that kind of vampire!” The hunger roared back to life as he said it. His fangs nipped his bottom lip and he shook. The ghosts tugged on Kay's boot and it went flying. Ian turned to the Lady of the Long Rest and pressed one hand to her marbled feet. “This can’t be your Judgment!”

“She’s not real!” Kay whimpered and an arm of his coat soaked red. An empty mouth attached to his shoulder and let out a horrible suctioning sound. They weren't only here for blood. Every edge of Kay seemed to blur as it went to suck out his soul.

No one deserves to be eaten body and soul. Ian knew that.

He wrenched himself forward and threw himself on the ghost– as if that would do anything. The ghost floated backward and hissed.

The ghosts backed away from his flashing teeth. Ian blinked. “That’s new.”

“Your poncy-ness must have–” Kay spit out a mouthful of blood. “God. Fuck.”

Ian bared his teeth and leapt at the nearest ghost. The creature fled toward the nearest trees and Ian laughed. “Did you see that?” Nothing had ever been afraid of him before.

“Help me!" Kay was being torn left and right by the wispy specters. Ian threw himself on top of the boy and shoved his face into the vapors.

You shouldn’t be able to bite ghosts any more than you should be able to punch them. The experience was much less like eating than it was swallowing. The form shimmered and the ghost’s expression twisted into something unrecognizable.

And then Ian sucked in the creature like inhaling smoke. The Hunger surged through him like being struck by lightning. He finally understood what it meant to feast.

—-----------

Kay laughed. He laughed and laughed and wiped at his eyes. One shoulder no longer worked, and he was bleeding from scratches and sucker-marks. He was shivering from the cold and there was a lurching-empty feeling in his center. But kept laughing and wiping at his eyes.

He had never seen specters torn apart before. He had never seen a vampire go into a frenzy.

“Thank you, thank God,” Kay repeated like a mantra and the Lady of the Long Rest oversaw his salvation. The Judgement might have seen to him after all.

Ian shredded through the ghosts one by one. He bit and sucked and absorbed the creatures like mist into the ocean. Kay wasn’t going to be taken to pieces. He might even survive the night. “Thank the Lady for twats!”

Ian turned on him. Kay had spoken too soon–as he always did. The vampire’s eyes glowed a brilliant red color and his fangs extended to the length of his pinky. This was not a man nor human nor even friend.

The vampire grabbed Kay under the arms and yanked him to his chest. A smoky scent overtook Kay. Not like fire, but like ice and ashes mixed into one. This had to be something like the tales. A Soul Eater. He whimpered in his arms like the condemned coward he was.

"I won't fight. I promised," he whispered. "My life was already forfeit. You can have my soul.” He wished he knew the vampire's full name or his family or whether he liked it in the cold terrible north. Kay closed his eyes and a sharp edge dragged against his throat all the way up to his ear.

The vampire gave a long inhale and Kay shuddered against him.

“You’re warm,” the voice growled, and Kay turned his head.

“You saved my life.”

He wasn’t sure what overcame him. Whether it was the relief or the adrenaline or all the fairy tales come to life. Or the boy’s beautiful highbrow and thin lips and the fact Kay should be dead. He turned his face and pressed a brief kiss to the horrible Soul Eater’s dead lips. Something thrummed in Kay’s center much like the hollowness before.

The movement was shy and unsure of itself, and Lily would surely tease him until his death bed for it. The vampire blinked several times and dropped him.

“Huh,” he said and cleared his throat several times, fixing his tattered coat.

Kay tossed his head back and laughed. The Soul Eater’s cheeks became a soft gray-ish blush. He fixed his collar again and wiped off his jacket sleeves and Ian kept blushing.

“I guess you are a different type of vampire. I owe you a thank you then.”

“I guess you’re right.” Ian gave a hesitant smile at Kay’s warm tone. When Kay stopped laughing, he gave one of his sneaky thin grins.

"Did you know you could do that?"

Ian's brow furrowed. "That would be a first."

"Suppose you owe me a thank you then too." He offered his hand to the other man. “Want to help me visit a pastor?”

FIN

—————-

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed the story please consider buying me a coffee, and check out my Sapphic urban fantasy book 🌸

[hiskillingjar]

Chastity (Ren/MC)

day 5: chastity second person

You couldn't hold back a little squeak as Ren locked the heavy-duty chastity belt around your hips and between your legs, the soft click of the first padlock being threaded through the metal loop that rested atop your belly being enough to make you tremble even more than you already were.

You had behaved badly, or at least, he thought you had behaved badly enough to be kept like this for a while.

The length of time was up to him, naturally, and he hadn't made a decision about it yet. 

He was happy enough just locking up the padlocks and watching you tremble and shiver, it seemed, as he stayed on his knees in front of you, focusing intently on his task.

"How long are you going to keep this on?" You asked softly with a little pout, looking down at the young man, his tail wagging gleefully behind him, as he locked the second padlock between your legs (but not before pressing the cold metal toy attached to it up inside you first, keeping you full).

"Oh, you know. However long I feel like, really." Ren replied with an innocent smile, taking both of the keys to the locks and theading them on a ball chain he fished from his shirt pocket. "It could be days. Or weeks, or months. Who knows!" He let out a laugh then, raising his brows beneath his bangs and standing up to his feet as his ears tilted forward with excited anticipation. "Maybe I'll keep it on forever."

Your eyes went wide and scared at his playful threat, which only encouraged him to step closer towards you, his innocent smile fading into a sharp grin on his face and his tail wagging even more rapidly.

"Wouldn't that be something?" He continued, bracketing his hands on the metal bands at your hips as his tail wound around your bare legs, soft and teasing. “Keeping you full and desperate for release, forever and ever, without any hope of rescue?” He let out a giddy little breath. “Just saying it is getting me hot.” 

"W-Well, why would you do something like that?" You stammered softly, biting your lip as he continued to idly fiddle with the padlock of the belt, his eyes drifting down to the thick metal waistband digging into your soft flesh, marking your skin. You could already feel that it was going to leave a stark imprint behind. "If I'm all...belted up, forever, you wouldn't get to-"

"I wouldn't get to fuck you?" He finished for you with another little chuckle, keening up (on his tiptoes) to press a kiss, a teasing bite to your jaw, digging his fingers around the metal band and pulling your hips close to his. You could already feel how hard he was getting through his jeans. He wasn’t kidding around then. "No, that's true. I wouldn't get to do that...but honestly, I think it'll be worth it to keep you so wound up and desperate all the time." He chuckled again, and ran his nose against your neck, scenting you. " I think it'll be worth it, anyway. And that’s kind of all that matters, hm?"

"But...mph," You let out a soft groan from the back of your throat as he continued to rut his hips against yours, looking for whatever stimulation he could against the hard metal despite how much he was insisting otherwise. "Why?"

"Because I want to," He said, his voice a touch softer, watching with half-lidded eyes as your own flitted to the side, trying to avoid his hungry gaze as he continued to toy with the padlock. "Because I can. Even knowing that you're unable to play with yourself right now and feeling your frustration is enough for me."

Your cheeks flushed a little (a lot) darker as he brought his face close to yours with a salacious smile, licking his fangs indulgently like a fox would as he took in your embarrassed expression.

"And...what if I beg for you to take it off?" You asked, peering back towards him, your face growing more flush as you noticed him string the ball chain around his neck, the keys to your padlocks shining against his chest. 

"Well, it'll be up to me to decide if you deserve it," He replied, the sharpness in his grin settling into a cruel smirk as he keened up again to kiss your neck one last time. "And I'm pretty tough to convince...especially when I want something as badly as this."

[danse-or-farkas]

Long time no direct message, hope you are doing well and that you and yours are both healthy and joyful!

So... burning question. May(?) be related to a fic idea. Of the brothers, which of them do you think would have the most mental block against bedding an orc? I could imagine Vilkas having issues because ew, social stigma, but I could imagine Farkas having problems because "um, I don't know how to handle all those protruding fangs and shit".

You are my Trusted Source(tm) for the mind of the two, so I thank you in advance for your contemplation of my thought experiment!

Its all fine, time is a tad wobbly as a concept for me. Yesterday, a month ago, a year ago, all tend to be a tad blurry. Unless its far enough to filter out of memory its recent to me! Glad I’m thought of a trusted source, I always think of my interpretation as a patchwork of canon, headcanon, inference, and just what feels correct inside the framework we have. This is going to be a tad rambly, and probably veers a little off topic. Hopefully there’s something useful in here you can pick out.

Farkas would look at the tusks, contemplate for about a half second if there would be any issues kissing through then, then do it anyway. Problems are to be solved in the moment, not uselessly dwelled upon beforehand. If any of the Circle questioned it he’d probably point out that his fangs are/were bigger in wolf form anyway. If it was for tusks in more fun places he would figure they’ve had them their whole life, they would know what they can and cannot do with their mouth. People couple up with Khajiit and Argonians who have a much more extreme teeth situation by comparison. His entire thought process can be summed up as a shrug, maybe with a slightly flatly delivered joke about it if he’s in the mood to make light.

As for social stigma and reputation, as far as he’s concerned those are for the highborn nobles with too much time and not enough warriors spirit to fret about. You can’t cleave heads with chastity, can’t bulwark a shieldbrother with the approval of gossips. Anyone who might suggest bedding an orsimer is somehow damaging either his honour or ability to fight is more than welcome to come tell him to his face and find out just how wrong they are. People already mistake his directness for dimwittedness so he’s used to shrugging off judgement at worst, and forcefully correcting it at the best.

Vilkas is the one who would have some issues, scaling depending where in the timeline it is. If its earlier he will still be in his own head about matters of honour and the afterlife, dealing with the wolf blood. He will be clinging to his Nordliness hard, and anything that he perceives as a risk to that will have him react less than well. If its later, post Kodlak, he will have also taken on a lot of their harbinger duties such as finding and maintaining contracts with the holds and nobility. This would mean he is the forward face of the guild and his perceived reputation directly touches everyone else.

Torvar is the only one better read on Companion history than Vilkas, so he would be the one most likely to successfully interfere with this if Vilkas refused to have the introspection to deal with it himself. He’d drop a copy of ‘Great Harbingers’ in his brooding lap and tell him to read up on Cirroc and Henantier if he’s going to so uptight about who he drags to bed somehow ruining his honour. If the famously Nord guild could have altmer and redguard harbingers without staining their honour, then his bedsheets could have an orsimer no problem.

Once they got over their issues both would get along with an orsimer fairly well. There would be some quirks, depending if they were legion or stronghold descended, broadly generalising.

Stronghold orsimer culture is based on tight knit groups working together toward a united purpose, honour, and deference to the strongest warrior as leader, and solving disputes with family with a good fist fight. Basically Jorrvaskr, so a good fit.

Legion descended orsimer would have the deference for chain of command, ability to work and live in tight confines with others, and putting the glory and victory of the whole above the self. Another good fit, but perhaps it might take time for them to defrost a bit toward the more found family nature of it and the fact that its fairly accepted to resolve differences by beating the other party in a way that would get you punished in the Legion.

[catboybiologist]

Honestly forgot I even sent that after awhile, thought it had been too weird 😅 but ask and you shall receive catboy facts I made up at 3am on very little sleep (some are nsfw so might wanna tag it)

Catboy facts:

Catboys are half-human half-cat meaning they are humans with cat like traits

Cat ears and tails, catboys only share traits with shorthair cats

Catboys are naturally hairless except for head eyebrows and tails, their hair also doesn't grow after reaching adulthood

Catboys have an average lifespan of 15-20 years and reach adulthood after just 1 year

Catboys can breed with other catboys, every catboy has a sort of branch 4 inches deep in their rectum that contains a uterus, it's smaller than Catgirls Uterus' so most Catboys will only have 1-2 kids at a time, their pregnancy term is 2 months

Catboys diet consists almost entirely of meat, such as fish, beef, pork, eggs, and milk

Catboys will produce milk for up to 2 weeks after giving birth

Catboy milk and catboy semen are made of the same ingredients, the only salient difference is in the lack of sperm in milk and the milk is pink whereas the semen is white

Catboys vary in intelligence with some as high as 100 IQ and most as low as 75 IQ

Catboys can breed with humans but pregnant catboys will only ever produce catboy offspring, if impregnating a human female the resulting offspring can be either catboy or human, a human giving birth to a child seeded by a catboy will still be pregnant for 9 months whether the child is a catboy or a human

Catboys are often preferred for catboy breeding for perceived "purity" as well as catboys inherently high impregnation chances and semen production 5 times greater than humans

Because of their lack of natural fur catboys can only live in warm climates in the wild and must be kept indoors during cold weather

Catboys have 4 small fangs in their mouth

Catboys tongues aren't rough as they have no need to lick themselves clean and their opposable thumbs mean they have no need to lick meat from bones

Most catboys love water and are natural born swimmers

Catboys have a tendency to knock things off high surfaces and stare at nothing for hours on end

Catboys can sleep up to 16 hours a day

Catboys have 4 ears, two cat on the top of their head towards the front and two human ears on the side of the head, both sets of ears are functional and provide excellent sense of hearing

Catboys are considered sub-human, they are protected from cruelty but aren't allowed to vote, own land or property, get married, etc

Catboy farming is illegal in three countries: North Korea, China, and Isreal.

Catboys have a tendency attraction towards males, a rare 1% of catboys are attracted to males and females

Female handlers are used to milk catboys since catboys can become attracted to male handlers, throwing off their normal rhythm

Catboys are often kept in chastity cages while not being milked or bred so they don't attempt to milk themselves or other catboys

Catboys were worshipped by the ancient Egyptians

Catboys and normal cats do not get along very well as strange as it sounds

Most catboy bedding is fleece to keep them warm

Many people have longcoats for their catboys in the colder months so they can still get exercise

Catboy semen is valuable in the breeding world, more valuable than most other types of semen due to the versatility of it

Catboys have no natural defense mechanism so they often don't last long in the wild, as such most catboys will prefer to live on farms or with humans

Catboys are generally recommended to be kept with other catboys or they could get depressed

Catboys enjoy napping in high places and in sunny areas

Catboys only divergence in breed is down to hair/tail color

Catboy penises range in size from 6-9 inches

Catboys aren't circumcised as it's considered cruelty due to being genital mutilation

Catboys range in height from 5'8" to 6'0"

Catboys used to have giant hands and feet, this trait was eventually bred out and isn't seen often in modern catboys

Catboys can speak but don't often speak to each other, using some unknown method of communication

Catboys have whiskers as babies but lose them 6 months after being born

Catboys are given earrings to keep track of them

Pet catboys while not as common as other popular pets are quite common in some countries

Germany is the catboy capital of the world...... apparently

Catboys generally prefer climates closer to the equator but can live as far North as some Canadian provinces if kept in the right conditions

Most catboys are only found in the western hemisphere and Europe, why Europe is an outlier is unknown

Your chances of being murdered by a catboy are low, but never zero

And there it is, I'm very ashamed of it, and some people are gonna get mad that it conflicts with what their idea of a catboy is but keep one thing in mind: It don't matter, make up your own catboy facts if you don't like mine

ik you already posted this but its worth more visibility and its amazing and also I really need to actually fucking get through my ask box but deleting something like this felt wrong

[dmagedgoods]

For Sal and Eneas: ⚔ : Does your muse have any specific kinks? (and I mean personal faves)

Ohhh, so many, where to even start? I swear those are only the personal faves, but my boys are kinky. 😂 [content warning for a long naughty list] ⚔ : Does your muse have any specific kinks? Salvadore He is a dominant leaning switch (but his submissive streak can become strong too in the right kind of mood/situation/mindset). - dominance games, discipline/reinforcement/punishment, degradation and humiliation (giving and receiving – public too but he can’t risk his reputation therefore only within role playing), throne sex and sex at other places to create the sensation of power imbalances, semi-public sex with the danger of being caught, his title(s) being used or, alternatively, addressing his partner only with their title, master/pet-scenarios, prey/predator-games, daddy-play, worship and admiration, people kneeling in front of him, being made to kneel himself, possessiveness, somnophilia, voyeurism - sadism (he can be quite cruel during playtime but also highly enjoys it when his partner treats him cruelly) – connected to completely breaking barriers if he can (or to be brought to this point himself): crying, screaming, fear, begging etc., spanking/caning/whipping (of different sensitive body parts), medical play - chastity and orgasm denial games (one of his absolute favorites, for long periods of time too), intense teasing, overstimulation, ruined orgasms, prostate milking, sexual frustration, desperation - breeding, rough sex, wrestling, marking, biting, tentacles, all kind of creatures (as long as they aren’t spider- or insect-like), sharp fangs, claws etc., teratophilia, bloodplay, painplay - oral sex (giving and receiving), breath control in different forms - sex toys, leashes and collars, bondage, blindfolds - clothing play (he enjoys valuable fabrics on his skin or sex where his partner is only partly undressed or not at all), cumming over his partner’s face/body/clothes, strip tease, uniforms - dirty talking - tenderness, strong intensity, a deep connection ~ Eneas He is a switch who enjoys both roles but actually leans more to the submissive side of things. - aphrodisiacs, sex magic, mind control, hypnosis - sensation games: heat (wax etc.), cold (ice etc.), electricity, blindfolds, massages, tantric sex - cumming “untouched” – through voice / nipple play or stimulation of the mind only - a bit of discipline and punishment, spanking, substances that make the skin more sensitive or cause other sensations, being commanded - orgasm control/denial, pleasure control - artistical bondage, restrains, sex toys, intimate jewelry (sometimes with magical effects), piercings - intense, very patient teasing of highly sensitive body parts, nipple play (giving and receiving, his own are very sensitive) - oral sex (giving and receiving), kissing - public sex and semi-public sex, being watched or even ordered to perform in this way or that - religious topics - dirty talking - but mostly: affection and tenderness (shhh)