#desecration cw

[mylittlestims]

Day 9 of heartnosehalloween: something / someone you’d love to dress up as for halloween

(X) (X) (X)

(X) (X) (X)

(X) (X) (X)

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

On the desecration of Háma…

I’ve been thinking a lot about Háma lately (though when am I not?) and his death. Content warning for violence!

Háma is a unique and singular individual in many respects, and none more so than in the manner of his death and its immediate aftermath.

There are untold numbers of casualties at Helm’s Deep, but only ONE — Háma — where we are told that the person was not just killed but that their dead body was then literally chopped into pieces. Even beyond Helm’s Deep, the gruesome cruelty with which Háma was treated seems to largely stand alone, at least within LOTR (the Silm is a much bloodier and more grisly work overall, and Háma’s death fits much more neatly alongside Fingon or Gelmir than Boromir or Théoden). Other characters are killed, obviously, or nearly so. But their deaths seem to be less ruthlessly excessive. Beyond very vague “rumour,” we don’t really see specific people being wantonly dismembered and their bodies subjected to intentional, gratuitous violence far in excess of what was needed to achieve their death. We don’t see enemies taking time mid-battle just to mutilate and disrespect the corpse of a fallen foe. But we’re explicitly told that’s what happens to Háma.

The only situation I can think of that’s even remotely comparable is the men of Minas Tirith who were decapitated so that their heads could be volleyed back into the city.* But that’s not a wholly analogous situation. That was an indiscriminate act, applied to every man who fell in that battle, and presumably carried out after the fighting was over so that the heads could later be used for a clear strategic purpose: to fill the surviving Gondorians with fear and despair. Háma, by contrast, seems to have been singled out for unique and especially vicious treatment while the battle was still ongoing and without any offered explanation.

I’ve thought a lot about why this happened to him, and ultimately it doesn’t really matter. There are any number of possible in-universe explanations: to horrify the Rohirrim and destroy their morale; to stick it to Théoden by targeting someone he was especially fond of; to “punish” Háma for having drawn the particular ire of the orcs somehow in the midst of the fighting; just a random and meaningless display of general contempt. There’s no definitive answer given, and, really, they’re all equally objectionable as rationales. There’s a reason that desecration of corpses has been considered a war crime since antiquity and is still categorized as such even today. It’s the ultimate denial of a person’s humanity, individuality (since it can make it impossible to identify them), and dignity. It prevents that person’s loved ones from being able to undertake the usual rituals of mourning and, thus, it denies them the chance to start healing. It’s a breach of norms that can never be redressed.

What’s probably the most relevant explanation is actually the meta one. Whatever motive the orcs had, Tolkien’s motivation was to show us exactly how debased, ruthless and vicious they were. For them to stoop so low was a significant upping of the dramatic stakes, and for it to have maximum narrative impact, it couldn’t just happen to some nameless background character. It had to be someone we know and, more than that, someone we are specifically supposed to like. Háma fills this role perfectly, as he is fundamentally decent and good — literally *everything* he does in the story is just and wise and kind — without being such a central character that readers would fully rebel against him ending up with this fate. (Tolkien clearly did not write this with Háma stans like me in mind!)

Setting aside cause, the effects of Háma’s sacrifice are certainly wide reaching. We don’t ever find out how his family took this news or what it meant to them to try to live with that knowledge, but we see how it hit Théoden. Of everyone who died at Helm’s Deep, Háma is the one that Théoden mourns by name. He casts the first earth on Háma’s grave, which is separated from all the other fallen Rohirrim who are buried together. Théoden repeatedly cites what happened to Háma as one of the biggest wrongs committed by Saruman against him and against Rohan at large. He even lists it above the death of his own son, which I can’t fully account for except to say that Théodred died a more typical battle death that was no less tragic but not as shocking.

If Saruman had *any* hope of convincing Théoden to go easy on him in the aftermath of Helm’s Deep — which he tried to do quite strenuously when our heroes visit Isengard at the battle’s end — that hope died when the first gratuitous blow struck Háma’s dead body. Far from cowing Théoden into submission and sending him in search of any way to head off more such brutality, the desecration of Háma hardens Théoden’s will. He may be “a lesser son of great sires,” but he is not someone who will excuse or accept that offense. And he’ll go to his own grave helping to ensure that anyone who would is denied the chance.

No one else can suffer Háma’s fate. There can be only one Háma. There was only one Háma. He was singular, and he was perfect.

*There is also, in a footnote of UT, the suggestion that Grimbold put the heads of the axemen who killed Théodred onto stakes where they fell. But that’s a) a footnote in unpublished material and so not of the same textual weight as a story that was explicitly included in LOTR itself; b) very vaguely worded (“it is told”) so who knows if it’s even true; and c) unclear as to whether those axemen lost their heads in the battle and they were then displayed as such, or if their heads were taken after just for that purpose. No matter how you choose to read it, though, it wasn’t the same scenario as Háma!

[sunarctus]

Desecrating an altar? Ghost and Soap would never....

My piece for the stayfrostyzine on twitter paired with an amazing fic by @theedwardianone (free zine link below)

[grislyintentions]

|| OC Conceptualisation: 妲己 ||

[Hi because I like yapping and seeing how people come up with inspiration for OCs, I figured I'd like to share a little bit more about how I came up with Da-ji.

With Da-ji, he is primarily created with inspiration from Su Daji (The Investiture of the Gods) and Suguru Geto (JJK) as well as a sprinkling of Heo Myeong (Gwichon-ri).

Su Daji is popularly written as a femme fatale. She is introduced as the favourite consort of King Zhou, the last king of the Shang dynasty in ancient China. In many legends, a malevolent fox spirit kills and impersonates the real daji in order to get close to King Zhou. Under their influence, King Zhou's tyrannical behaviour escalates to never before seen levels of cruelty. Ultimately, leading to the downfall of the dynasty.

Although King Zhou received a lot of backlash, blame, criticism and curses for his ruling- it was Daji's head that was decapitated and paraded around as a 'cautionary tale'. Many who remember the tale remember her as the villain more than they bring up King Zhou. Many blamed her ultimately for the ruin of the dynasty, refusing to attribute responsibility to everyone else involved.

The real daji never stood a chance. Killed before she even got a chance to live a life. Appointed as a consort without knowing what was to befall her. And now her image in the peoples' eyes are forever tainted.

Suguru Geto is someone who lost sight of his purpose through a series of traumatic events, growing more and more embittered with the people they were 'supposed' to protect. Having lived through watching those he cared for die an early death, having it be an expected thing to die young in their line of work, having to protect those who fear/mistreat/abuse others like him etc all culminated in his eventual ideals/resentment towards non-sorcerers, viewing them as the root of all their problems.

Both their stories are tragic in their own ways. They make you think: "In the end, what was all of this for? What was any of this tragedy for?" That is the core feeling I want to incorporate for da-ji both in personality as well as background (which I will someday actually sit down and type out).]

[cult-of-the-eye]

I had 4 nightmares in a row today and most of them were tma themed...I've never found it that scary but I guess now I am?? I'm gonna tell you them now:

(these are slightly unsettling btw so check the tags for trigger warnings)

You know desecrated host and confession? Yeah it's just that except I am experiencing what father burrows experienced. Except I kill and skin my little sister and I feel the absolute horror of waking up and realising what I'm doing and somehow it's worse when I realise that I've made my twin sister distraught. Cut to next dream where

I'm running from a burning hilltop house and through some sort of death trap maze thing made out of hedges and while I'm running for my life, terrified, it occurs to me that hey I think I might've listened to a tma episode about this, so I try to remember what happened so I can either avoid/follow that fate. I can't think of anything but for some reason I find a dragon shaped hole in the hedge so I run through that towards another house which is suspiciously similar to hilltop house. It's like a white clinical version and the family is smiling at me and they take me in and make me share a bed with their son. I am extremely uncomfortable and hyper vigilant so I just lie there awake and run away as soon as it starts to get a bit lighter. Cut to next dream where

I'm at home, it's like 9 pm and my dad has called me downstairs. Every day he checks everything is locked before going to bed after I've checked everything is locked cause hes kinda paranoid. Hes about to tell me off cause the front door is unlocked. The door slowly creaks open as we're standing there, showing a humid, dark street, backlit by an orange glow. It's very unsettling and I turn to my dad and shout SHUT THE DOOR SOMEONE MIGHT GET IN!! I then turn around into the house and it dawns on me that someone is already in the house. I know it's a man with a ratty top hat and an even rattier black billowing cloak, hiding in the shadows of our house and I know when I'll find him, he'll be pointing at me. Because of this knowledge, I tell my dad to stay put, because I'm gonna find him and potentially sacrifice myself. He lets me. I comb through the house, looking behind furniture and in every saturated, dark corner and I find him. Hes just as I imagined, pointing at me, with an open mouth, as if he's just about to scream. Cut to next dream where

I am still in my house. It's morning. I am entrusted with the care of a small child (around 7 or 8) and I am told that people are trying to kill her. People are baying at my open front door trying to see her and I tell her to run upstairs, while I block the staircase using my whole body. They're pushing against me and I see the girl peep down and I shout at her telling her to get away, they're gonna get you. The dream cuts away to the next morning. I wake up, feeling hollow. The girl is gone. I know in my heart that she's dead and probably has died a painful death and that I failed but instead all I feel is a sense of relief that I don't have to take care of her anymore.

Yeah so I'm gonna spend the rest of my life thinking about that.

[fictionkinfessions]

I almost feel a little. dumb for making this post, but I want to talk about it.

Lux, Lux I am so sorry.

I am so sorry for everytime I got angry at you and didn't properly apologize. For everytime we fought. For being the reason you lost an arm, the reason you lost your dad. For giving you so much grief for working with Mouthpiece and getting a Charter item. I am sorry for anything and everything I have ever done. For destroying Bonesburrow, destroying the Mason's grave, hunting you down. For being such a menace to you at the start.

I am thankful you let me be your ally. Let me be in your life. You are, were I guess, like a daughter to me. I think I love you more than anything else on the server. Which, I know, is probably a bit of a shocking statement. Me? Love something more than my rats and chaos? Hell, me picking you over Astron, my long time companion, is probably odd to hear. But it's the truth.

I'm not sure if you knew it, if you could tell, but I loved you so much. I was proud of everything you did. I was amazed by the Wardens, and your little Ink Blots. Markhett was an amazing place that you made, even with everything that happened, you managed to make spawn so nice. I loved watching you learn how to use L'Ancre. Even after months of using it, it still brought me pure joy to see your happiness and capabilities. I was overjoyed when you moved in with me and Astron in the cabin, knowing that I could keep a better eye on you. When we ran through Neverend together, ultimately finding joy in our creation.

Folly. I am so sorry that I failed you. That I let you die. I should've never taken the Mark of the Benefactor. I should've given it back to you immediately. I should've died then, not you, never you. You shouldn't have had to suffer as much as you did on that wretched server. You shouldn't have had to die in the place you made for peace. Folly, you should have lived. You should've been allowed to have a peaceful life. I shouldn't have taken peace for you, from everyone on the server, and I'm so sorry I did. You, all of you, deserved so much better than the hell I caused. By myself, and the unintentional uprisings of Blake and Diansu that I brought about because of my initial hunt and Freebird.

Luxintrus, I adore you more than anything else, and I am so deeply sorry for everything that had happened. Please, please, know I love you more than I have loved anything.

- Doctor4t / RAT , Content SMP

w

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

ok also had a realization about the mechs au. genericb is still carmilla but grumbot is still a grian creation. i’m shoving the crane wife from stranger and frankenstein into one character to make a terrible man.

[salpho]

Irl JDS stop striving further and further away from the original Everything of the games challenge. TRY TO STOP THROWING AWAY YOUR OWN EXCUSE OF "OH EVERYTHING IS SEPIA AND BLACK BECAUSE IT'S ANOTHER FUCKING DIMENSION" CHALLENGE . PLEASE DEAR GOD

[iguanodonwildman]

Finally this makes it to mainstream media. Imagine the headlines if this were reversed. And the White House still can't think of any war crimes Israel has intentionally committed in Gaza.

[katyon2020]

‼️‼️ TW: Gore, Dead Bodies, Implied Desecration ‼️‼️

Goretober Day 1: Beware

Wonder if any actual pirates did this...

[gladiatorcunt]

father charlie asking you to call him father during sex is making me tweak

cw: 18+ mdni, fem reader, pussy EATING, let him be a little more openly crazy in this one, trope typical dub con and corruption kink but you're just as crazy so you think that you're doing the same thing to him, bible verses as dirty talk, inaccurate religious practices, religious slut shaming/degradation (?)

Your thighs are already shaking and he’s only kissing up your inner thighs, so cute, so sweet. “That’s it, little lamb, lie back for me.”

Your skirt is pushed up to pool around your hips, the wood of the pew you’re sitting on leaving an already uncomfortable ache in your hips.

Father Charlie kneels in front of you, right out in the middle of the open. Sure, it’s after hours and no one is on the premises but the two of you, but God is still here. Isn’t he? Watching in judgment as the man meant to be your spiritual leader sups at the fountain of your cunt.

He smiles when you start squirming and immediately slaps the inside of your thigh, harsh but genuine in its tough love, “Ah ah ah. I thought I told you to lie back and take your Father’s tongue in your pussy like a good girl.”

The candle’s flames flicker as you pant and stare down at him, he looks so handsome in the soft orange glow, like an angel. But isn’t it the demons who sneak down to earth and seduce unsuspecting whorish women into damnation? Father Charlie could never be a demon in your eyes though, and he knows this more than he knows every verse of the good word by heart.

He could desecrate you with a nail gun and you’d bend over and spread your legs, bleeding out on the beige carpet. But you’re his special girl, his darling wife to be and you know better than to do anything that would force his heavy hand.

“I-I’m so sorry, I won’t do it again.” You plead, the thought of losing his favor for even a second causes you genuine distress, "Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account.”

“I-i’m so sorry, who?” He mocks, pitching his voice higher and spitting on your clit. “I won’t do it again, who?”

“F-father. I’m so sorry, Father. I’ll be listen you, I swear.”

“You’re going to be a good girl for me anyway, like a real child of God should.”

Your soft sighs turn into even softer moans when he redoubles his efforts and leans forward to kiss your throbbing clit. A crucifix that tastes as electrifying as a star, he moans as your natural musk invades his senses. He’s so happy you’re on an off shaving day too, there’s just enough hair peeking through for some to come off on his tongue with every swipe.

Father Charlie moans into your puffy pussy, speaking in tongues into your folds and sliding his tongue in your sopping hole. He smacks his lips together when he pulls back to breathe, smiling up at you and licking away the sticky string of you that clings to his mouth.

“Maybe I should have this cunt for communion, draft my sermons laying in between your thighs. You should’ve never taken this job, little lamb. Now even God himself couldn’t keep us apart.”

A flash of light, and his nose bleeds onto your pubes. Then the vision’s gone, and Father Charlie’s burying himself back into the heaven that is your sloppy pussy.

You run your fingers through his hair in a frenzy, but you obediently sink into the shooting pain in your pelvis as you slump into the pew.

Father Charlie’s eyes glint like rubies as he eats you like a starving man, your water turning into wine as you flood his taste buds with your juices. His knees strain in the confines of his dark slacks, digging into the church floor, but his precious lamb is worth every twinge of pain. They’d be added bonuses, anyway. He hums a few lines of a hymn, the melodic vibrations give you tingles.

You squirt minutes later when you lock eyes and he nips at your clit, fantasizing about chewing it into a heart. He chastely pecks the bud through your orgasm and into overstimulation, which is always his goal. Father Charlie’s favorite game is to make you come for every sin you confess to in your last confessional.

“You’ve been eating what I’ve recommended, good, you’re fattening up really nicely, dear.” He comments with a quick squeeze to your mound, laughing at your exhaustion.

One down, six to go. You’re blessed with a guilty conscience.

“Go in peace.”

[fictionkinfessions]

"i am not the guy that experimented on his dead friend's remains. and by that i mean, either he experimented on his dead friend's remains and i'm just not him, or i'm him but i just didn't experiment on my dead friend's remains. i'll leave it up to you to guess which one."

- real thing i just said

w

[advertisesouls]

Whatever kind of advantage their foes had prior to this vanished the moment that Alastor entered the battlefield. The hellhounds, who were caught unaware, yelped in surprise as they were ensnared by the the tendrils that came from the deer demon. However, as one of them was crushed—perhaps their death could be seen as a mercy—the desecration of their corpse was not as they were treated as nothing more than a glorified rag doll. This didn't bode well for the other hellhound, who was still fighting against the bonds so that they didn't end up much like their companion did.

(Though, in this case, struggling only made things sweeter in the end when it came to dealing with the likes of Alastor or Xifeng.)

As far as Xifeng was concerned, she was faring rather well in her fight against the eagle and snake-like demon. Although her abilities were still new to her, she was getting used to them all the same. The eagle took to the skies to even the playing field against Xifeng while weaving through the small fireballs that she managed to conjure up and send their way.

The snake, ever an opportunistic one, leapt up into the air in hopes of ensnaring Xifeng's ankle to drag her back to the ground below while keeping their eyes peeled just in case if that damned deer demon decided to come after them, too.

"Absolutely, I've always desired power for us like this." A maddening laughter comes from Alastor, the permanent grin never leaving his face, yet begins to use this new cursed and demonic form of the innocent practices he learned as a boy. From his shadow would emerge cursed dolls, while black tentacles formed from his back to grab right at these hellhounds.

How fortunate these demons took the form of hounds, for he now grew a demon hatred for dogs than he already had in his human life. A mere grip of his freed clawed hand would crush the hound, yet Alastor would continue slamming back and forth this hound. This wasn't just rage for hurting Xifeng, but rage that he died without so much as a single spark. He made his mark on the world yet he couldn't even see the aftermath and horror on people's faces.

This was...utterly...humiliating!

[2-dsimp]

(period is talking im sorry) dear god. the way i need an absolutely filthy marathon with danny for like a week or two.... is danny cool w degrading his darling? does he fuck with a mean mating press? started crying thinking of danny with a darling dressed as if they were straight outta nekopara...

If Danny the boss has a million fans, then I'm one of them.

If Danny the boss has one fan, then I'm THAT ONE.

If Danny the boss has no fans, that means I'm dead.

(i think im now 🫙 anon. if thats cool)

---☆ • ♧ • ♤ • ♧ • ☆ ---

Cw: NSFW MDNI FEM! Reader Dubcon, degradation, slight pet play, objectification, creampies, cosplay, overstimulation

---☆ • ♧ • ♤ • ♧ • ☆ ---

“What the fuck… Did you spill soda on my goddamned limited edition figurine? On purpose?”

You jumped, at the words he seethed under his breath. You were wearing a cat maid outfit determined to seduce your shut in otaku. Which wasn’t all that hard to be honest, but you craved getting dicked down in the most degrading way possible.

Danny was always the sweetest, worshipping your body as if it were the holy grail. Loving on every part of you, it was endearing but at times you craved for his cruelty. Whenever he got that cold icy smolder in his sunken eyes, it always made you shiver from how sexy he looked when pissed off.

“Since you want to desecrate my prized figurine…How bout I take my time in getting payment from your body. Maid-chan? Since I doubt you’ve got the money to reimburse me.”

He hissed in a gravelly tone, snatching you up by the wrist to send you scrambling to grip the edges of his desk for support. The Hitman Boss’s expression was heated as he hunched over you. tired red-blue eyes trained on your every facial expression.

While he one handedly flipped up your skirt, a slender finger snapping at the waist band of your panties. Before digging his fingers greedily in the meat of your ass.

And soon enough your funishment began.

“Oi maid bitch-chan. I didn’t give you permission to stop wiping my figurine down, now did I?”

The Otaku drawled out, having you bent over his PC monitor making you put that be maid cosplay to use. By shakily wiping up the soda spillage with a rag while he humped your ass.

“Keep going until it’s spotless. You can at least do that much besides just being a sweet fuckhole for my stress relief yeah?.”

He had a firm grip on your tail which ensured the rocky slapping of his balls against your folds. As he grinded his pelvis viciously against your mound. To make every pump of his cock scrap crudely within your squelching cunt.

“Cmon don’t get quiet on me now! Meow for me, you’re a neko maid right? So you better act the damn part, you dumb whore”

Your hand eye coordination became extremely faulty from the tremors of the impact he left on your body. You pathetically mewed trying your best to live up to expectation but it came out as a garbled mess. And the Otaku wasn’t too happy about it as he trailed a hand down to your chest to squeeze those breasts like a stress ball.

“Fuuuck. You’ve got me so pissed off you know that? Do you think I wanna call you a useless slut every time your cute ass. Can’t focus on anything other than cumming on my dick?”

“You know how I love to praise you baby so why do you gotta make me the bad guy?”

After Danny creampied your pussy till it was dripping globs upon the wooden flooring underneath the desk. It was only then he had forgiven you for your transgressions. After you finally managed to undo the damage you’d done with the cleaning supplies he had prepared at the ready.

The Otaku did feel a little guilty about wrecking you, so he made sure to give you his anime themed snacks and sat you on his lap to stream some episodes of Windbreaker. He didn’t clean you up of course, he was still peeved. So he figured that you could carry his seed inside you. As a reminder to you, should you ever did that shit again.

.

.

。

A/n: if you wanna be degraded the best way would be to piss Danny off since it’d be awkward from the start if he’s of clear conscious. You’re his goddess after all and he’d want nothing more than to worship you like the wonder you are.

[aeragan]

ᴏɴ ᴅᴜᴛʏ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x gn afab reader

✩ inspo: im on my period

★ summary: gallagher has been oddly needy all day.

✧ a/n: i need gallagher in a way that would desecrate god's holiness. anyways i had fun with this one if you couldn't tell. enjoy.

🗒 cw: SMUT, afab reader, quickie(ish), porn no plot, dadbod gallagher cause i said so, mention of sexting, predator/prey if you squint, fingering, pet names ('baby', 'doll'), little manhandling, p in v, bathroom stall sex, creampie, not proofread

✎ wc:

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Needy. That’s all Gallagher has been today. Normally, he doesn’t text you while he’s on duty, or at least, he doesn’t text you this much. Normally he checks in, strikes up a little conversation about how boring work is on his break, and then says he’ll see you at home later. Today, however, it felt like there was a text every minute. It started about halfway into his shift, with him asking you how things were at home. However, it quickly devolved from there, turning into sexting. He wasn’t shy, either. His texts went from ‘Can’t stop thinking about you’, to ‘I’m horny’, to describing all the things he wanted to do with you.

It’s not that you weren’t into it, it was just a little weird. You can’t deny that all the lewd things he was saying got to you, fanning the flames beneath your stomach. However, you were out running errands, and there was really no way to abate your own need. However, you couldn’t deny Gallagher, who just had such a stressful day, and needed a way to decompress. Perhaps you were just masochistic, but every one of his texts was met with an equally lewd one.

“Just want a piece of you. Don’t think I can wait any longer.”

While you yourself decided you could wait until he was off work, it seems like he had already made up his mind. Any other text you sent was left on delivered, so you assumed your hound had either chosen to jack off, or he was out sniffing for his target. Part of you wished he could keep the conversation going, a delicious build up to a wonderful night. What a shame, you think. But you’ll see him tonight, so you might as well not sulk.

You still have things to get done, anyways. No need to dwell on it, right? You’d keep your mind busy with the most un-arousing things before he came home, like cleaning… because you were almost out of cleaner in general, so you might as well keep your hands busy. With a huff, you put your phone in your pocket, making your way to the shopping outlet.

You are barely halfway into the store when a large hand pulls you in by the waist. You’d turn around and beat them senseless, but the minute your back hits their chest, you understand. You’d recognize those tits anywhere. You untense and huff, as Gallagher leans in, letting out his own sigh. Either out of relief or frustration, you couldn’t tell. But what you could tell was that he was still horny, seeing as Gallagher jr. was poking at your legs.

“Missed you,” He whispers gruffly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your neck, as if it was a totally normal thing. “Need you, actually. Real bad.”

You can tell.

“You’re on the clock though, right?” You turn to look up at him, doing your best to suppress the shiver that runs throughout your body. “Isn’t this like job ab–”

“Doesn’t matter. They think I’m looking for a suspect,” He does his best to be brief, hand falling to your side as he urges you to start walking. “Went looking for you. Couldn’t stop thinkin’, and, well… c’mon.”

Well, you aren’t going to say no. So, you follow his lead to a bathroom, and before you even get to ask what he’s up to, he’s practically shoving you into a stall. You can’t complain, however, because the bathroom is so pristinely clean, it puts all else to shame. The cleanliness of a Buca Di Beppo bathroom, without the overstimulating amount of celebrity pictures hung up on the walls.

Gallagher wastes no time, his calloused hand slipping underneath the band of your pants and underwear, while his other works on the buttons of his jeans. His hand is so close, yet he doesn’t stray an inch further. All he does behind you is grunt as he struggles out of his jeans.

“Found you,” He murmurs, pressing his nose into your neck like he’s missed your scent. “Gonna make you feel real good, just like this.”

The seat of your underwear is wet, even as he simply just huffs behind you, content to toy with you like this. He begins to place feverish, sloppy kisses down your neck, to your shoulder, before finally freeing himself of his pants. He moans against your skin as he begins to rut against your ass near immediately, pushing you further against his stomach as his hand deigns to reach further. A warm, calloused finger finders your clit, pressing against it and drawing lazy circles as he does so.

“Mmm…” He hums, his breath heavy and hot. “Missed this sweet thing… if I could do more…”

A pitiful moan slips past your lips as he touches you, every little kiss making you whine. The ‘Gallagher Effect’ you’ve aptly named this, any little stray touch and lingering gaze is enough to make you weak in the knees. Anywhere, at almost any time. It makes you feel needy and helpless, but in all the right ways.

He dips a finger in, letting out a soft groan at the feel of your velvety walls. You bring a hand up to your mouth to muffle your moans, eyes fluttering shut as he pumps his digit slowly, heat flaring under your skin. It doesn’t take long for him to add another digit, your walls clamping around both with such ease. He chuckles lowly behind you, a soft and rumbling sound that only serves to ignite some sort of primal need within you. If only it all could last forever… but he has other plans.

He pulls his fingers out no sooner than he pushed them in, leaving you feeling a little dull, a whiny ‘noooo’ slipping from your lips. He ignores your plea, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and lapping up what he could, before pulling your pants and underwear down in one go. The cold air sinks into your skin, melding with the heat, an oddly comforting sting. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in close and hoisting you up just a little, so he can seat his cock comfortably against your entrance. He teases you with the head for the briefest moment, a pearl of precum mixing with your slick.

“Gotta be quick, baby.” He huffs, before pushing in deliciously slowly. You squirm a little, shutting your eyes tight and willing yourself to shut up as he pushes himself all the way to the hilt.

Gallagher’s hands find purchase on your hips, digging his fingers into the plush of your skin as his own body relaxes. He hasn’t even started moving yet and he’s whimpering, like somehow he was a virgin. Still, such a reaction from him makes your walls flutter, to have such a man as imposing as Gallagher whine with his cock buried in your pussy, it made you feel powerful in some way.

After he seemed to have settled, he slowly begins to move you, grinding against you as he does his best to fuck up into you. It may have not been the most comfortable position, but his cock hit all the right spots, making you clench around him. He’s agonizingly slow, despite his comment, his forehead tucked away in the crook of your neck. Your hand muffles the soft moans that fall from your lips, breathing heavy with every thrust. His cock drags against your walls with every half-thrust, a kiss placed against your skin to make up for something so sloppy. Normally, he took his time with you, teasing you as much as he could (though he could never deny your pleas).

However, it seems he wasn’t satisfied with the position, as much as he wanted to chase after his own pleasure. With a grunt of effort (as if pulling out was some sort of great act of offense to him), he pulls out. You do your best not to complain, as he urges you to turn around. Quickly, he leans down and hooks an arm underneath your thigh, hoisting it up in a way that would give him more leverage. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning further against him. This was a much more comfortable position, especially the fact that you could see his face. He’s got a sleazy grin, a soft blush covering his features, as his eyes roaming over your face.

“Get a good look, yeah?” He chuckles, before leaning in and pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. With that, his tips glides against your pussy once more, before pushing back in, much easier this time. He swallows every moan and whimper of yours, beginning to fully thrust, his pace much faster this time. It’s dizzying, almost, enough to make your eyes roll back as his tip pushes against your g-spot with every thrust.

He pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his breathing ragged and heavy as he continues his pace. His hands are warm, his cock is warm, his body is warm. You are warm. You bite your lip as your breathing comes in brisk huffs, your legs trembling ever so slightly. His fingers run along the stretchmarks on the inside of your thigh, his grin growing more proud. Every other second brings you closer, and closer…

You can’t help but arch your back, pressing up against his stomach once more which is such pleasant stimulation. His grin falters as you flutter around him once more, his balls tightening. He goes from cocky to whiny within an instant, lips parted and face flushed.

“Doll, M’gonna…” He warns, his thrusts stuttering and pace becoming sloppy. His nails dig into the plush of your thigh, and you can’t ward off the pressure mounting below your stomach.

He chokes out more strained huffs before leaning in for another kiss, much more needy as his tongue presses against yours, once more taking in every little sound of yours as if he owns them all. It doesn’t take you too long to come, heat shooting up your body with a pleasant tingle as the pressure releases in a most euphoric way, cumming onto his cock. He is not far behind, letting out an audible groan that slips past both of your lips, echoing in the (hopefully) empty bathroom. A rush of warmth floods your insides, Gallagher’s normally strong grip wavering, pulling back as his body jerks, releasing the last bit of pent up frustration.

After a couple more moments, he slowly pulls out, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours. He’s always been sappy after sex, all softened up by his orgasm. Post nut clarity hits hard, however, and after a couple of pants, he pulls away. Not before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, one that contrasted the heated one moments prior.

“M’sorry, got ahead of myself,” He mutters, shaking his head, while hoisting up his boxers and pants. He doesn’t even take the time to wipe off his dick. “Didn’t mean to… well, didn’t mean to start all of this.”

You do your best to protest, nudging him as you lean against the wall. All you can do is take a couple more moments to catch your breath as his release dripped down your leg, something that felt near shameful as your own clarity hit you.

“You okay?” Despite such lewd acts, he still has the mind to check in on you. It doesn’t matter if he’s still on duty, he isn’t just going to up and leave you.

“Yeah,” You nod, waving him off. “Glad I could help, but you should–” you chuckle, before shuffling around him to sit down on the toilet, “– get back to work. I’m fine.”

“... Right. Well, I guess I’m off,” He sighs, as if he’s disappointed he has to leave you so soon. He did this to himself, really. “I’ll bring home some dinner from your favorite place, okay? Thank you again. Sorry–”

You wave him off once more, a little annoyed by his apologies. This man just came in you, and now he’s a step close to groveling like answering to his sexual needs was a sin. How could such an intimidating man– the head of the Bloodhound’s, even– get so pathetic? Not that you hated it, no, it was kind of funny. You had him wrapped around his finger. Perhaps he’d remember to bring some condoms, next time, if he was so upset over cumming in you.

Gallagher leans back down to bid you farewell with another kiss, before leaving the stall. You sit there for a minute, shaking your head. It wasn’t disappointing at all, and the more you thought about it, the lighter you felt. It was kinda fun. And, if anything, Gallagher was getting paid for it. The thought of that made you chuckle softly. Now, you felt like you really couldn’t complain. He gets paid for sex. And you get some dinner out of it, free of charge. What a wonderful existence…

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[ask-jinlintai-black-ops]

The Jinlintai department for innovations in atypical cultivation has absolutely only the normal amount of things to hide. Don't even worry about it. It's fine.

Questions may be addressed to Lianfang-zun Jin Guangyao, to our disciples Xue Chengmei and Mo Xuanyu, or to Su Minshan-zongzhu if they have to do with his contributions to the program (though of course most official correspondence with Moling Su should be done through their own channels).

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Frankencanon (mostly book as pertains to these guys)

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