#fic: flesh is the only virtue

[voxofthevoid]

Poll time, yet again ❎

This isn't what I'd call a problem per se, but I'm writing at a pace my posting cannot keep up with, even with me currently posting 5 fics a month—4 for JJK from a roster of 5 and 1 for MCU/Bleach. This'd be fine, but posting for MCU and Bleach long after leaving those fandoms has made it clear that I will significantly slow down on posting for those regardless of the size of my backlog. While I continue to love sharing those stories, the editing process becomes more of a chore than usual, and I just...sit on those. I'd like to avoid that as much as possible with JJK.

I'm still very firmly in the JJK sauce and haven't slowed down any, but I'd rather do this while I'm at the zenith of my inspiration, so these fics (which are the longest among my unposted JJK fics) can see the light of Ao3 while they and I are both hot, so to speak.

I'm upping my ongoing JJK roster from five to six, though whether the updates will increase to five a month or stay four a month remains to be seen. I can handle both based on monthly energy levels and have drawn up schedules for each, but I might run another poll for that to see what y'all can take. But that's for later.

For now, pick a fic ✨

Descriptions, titles, and choice WIP Wednesday links for the fics under the cut. I'll reblog the poll once a day or so till it's over.

Amnesiac Yuuji

the ghost in me was true (but you were haunted too): No-Shibuya AU where Gojou sends Yuuji out of the country after he eats all the fingers. Yuuji goes AWOL a year in and reappears 12 years later without any memories. Gojou doesn’t deal with that too well. Goyuu.

Shibuya Swap

(this is also part of the story) how the story changes: Just as the PR ensnares Gojou, canon!Yuuji switches places with his older self from an alternate dimension where he’s Gojou’s teacher. Goyuu.

Mundane Unclekuna

bloodstains on the collar means just don't ask: Mundane AU Yuuji’s sexual awakening is his big, mean uncle and then his high school teacher makes him realize he just has a specific type in men. Goyuu and Sukuita.

Surprise Rut Sex

taking the flesh is the only virtue: Yuuji goes into premature rut after the vs Mahito arc, and Nanami ends up “helping” before Gojou shows up to escalate matters. Goyuu and Nanaita.

[lovesour]

musings below

[accioscarheadthings]

heyy, i love ur fics and love you so much 💗💗💗💗

can you give us a more of switch! kenji, begging for fem!reader's attention from the ultramine series?

i loved him in the series and wanna see more of him

thank you smm😩💖of courseee, i hope you enjoyy <33

Dirty Monologue

after the events of ultramine series

warning: smut 18+, use of petnames (baby, darling, sweetheart), switch!kenji, breast play, edging, cum eating, slight degradation

summary: post Giants afterparty, you and kenji take a cab home and kenji gets needy for you.

masterlist !

after a big party that was hosted by the baseball team, you and kenji clambered into the backseat of a taxi.

you were wearing a beautiful satin dress with a slit that opened at your thighs, while kenji was in formals, covered from head to toe in black.

you both were giggling and whispering to each other, but the driver was patient and didn't seem to mind the pair of you.

You snuggled closer to Kenji, resting your head on his shoulder as the city lights flickered past the windows.

while you were more quiet and introspective in your drunken state, satisfied with little touches, kenji was the complete opposite.

he was clingy and affectionate, his arm around your shoulders and his body pressed against yours. he nuzzled his face against your neck, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear and occasionally planting sloppy kisses on your cheek.

"you have no idea how much i want you,"

"patience, handsome," you chided, pressing a smooch to his nose, " y'know patience is a virtue,"

kenji scoffed, his face flushing from your tender kiss, "i don't care about virtues when it comes to you," his voice dropped an octave, eyes drooping and raven locks falling all over his forehead.

you brushed them back out of habit, hand caressing his flushed cheeks.

"want you. now. here. please," he mumbled, emphasising each word, leaning closer to your lips.

you met him in the middle, ghosting your open mouth over his as your ring clad fingers cupped his chin.

you pulled back without a word, smirking down at him.

kenji looked like he was splashed in the face with cold water. your teasing had hauled him out of his drunken state.

"prove it, then," you leaned on your seat, eyes fixed ahead on the road.

what you hadn't noticed was kenji's cocky smile spread his face.

you stiffened when you felt his breath on your neck one second; the other, his tongue tracing a drunken path to your ear.

"I want to touch you, to taste you, to make you moan my name,"

one of his hand settled on your bare knee, rubbing circles.

"I want to lose myself in you, to forget the world for a moment, and exist only in this moment, with you,"

kenji's mouth travelled down your collarbone, his hair tickling your skin. you squirmed in place.

"I know what you like," he simpered, sucking on your sweet spot again. "I have every inch of you memorized,"

his hand slid up your thigh through the slit of your dress, squeezing the flesh slightly as he placed kisses along your jawline, his scruff tickling the column of your throat.

you gasped, slapping your hand over his, "kenji,"

"shh, don't interrupt me," he caught your hand and brought them to his lips, kissing each knuckle with such care, "or i'll be forced to punish you," his other hand slipped behind your back, grabbing your ass possessively, "you know i don't have a problems about putting you over my knee and spanking you until you can't sit right for a week,"

"fuck," you whimpered, eyes dazed at it had nothing to do with the alcohol you had consumed.

"all the pretty little sounds that leave these lips," he thumb traced your lips, tugging your bottom one and watching your lips part.

by now your breathing was ragged and came out in gasps.

he withdrew his hands from you, causing you to shrink in your place.

desperate for more, but too prideful to ask for it.

and kenji knew it. that's why he enjoyed getting you all soft in his hands.

kenji pressed the button that closed the blind betwen the driver's seat and back seat, turning back to you with all his attention.

"now, back to my promise," he loomed over you, one hand caging you between the door and his body.

his other hand slipped betwen your thighs, fingers cold.

hissing at his touch, you clamped your legs around his fingers, our core clenching around nothing.

"ah-ah, none of that," he spread your legs lightly, enough for him to access, "want you all spread for me, baby,"

his fingers circled on your clothed cunt, tracing your puffy lips.

"I want to feel your skin against mine, your body against mine, to be so close to you that I don't know where I end and you begin."

you noticed his hard-on through his pants, and the awkward position he was sitting on.

without thinking, you touched him, cupping roughly.

kenji whined, face settling into the crook of your neck, "darling-"

"keep talking," you cooed into his ears softly, rubbing your palm against his groin.

two can play this game.

"mmph," his voice was muffled against your skin. his teeth caught the strap of your dress and he slipped it down your shoulder, revealing more skin to pay attention to.

kenji kissed all over your shoulder, groaning against your skin when you gripped his length.

"I want to take you to the edge," he continued, his voice dropping even lower, "And then bring you back, again and again, until you're breathless and trembling and unable to form a coherent thought,"

his finger rubbed against your sopping core, catching on your clit with the right pressure.

you hand fell from his crotch, caught off-guard by his actions.

kenji was back in control now.

he cupped one of your breasts, thumbing your nipple and feel it erect under his touch.

"I want to make you mine, to claim you and mark you so that you'll always remember this moment, and always know who you belong to,"

pushing your panties to the side, he pushed two fingers into your pussy.

kenji groaned at how wet your were, "so wet and ready," he shuddered against you, "s'taking everything in me to not fuck you against the window for everyone to see what a needy slut you are," he emphasised with a curl of his fingers.

you gasped aloud, goosebumps rose in your skin as a result of his words.

he felt you clenching around his fingers and added another, "taking me so well, my love," he rasped.

"mine. all mine," he traced his tongue up the column of your throat, licking your sweat, "mine to love, mine to worship,"

he squeezed your breast, palm slipping to your hip, thumb caressing your pudgy stomach.

"mine to fuck," he increased his pace, and when you moaned, he smushed his lips against yours, swallowing your whines.

he increased his pace, pumling his fingers in and out vigoursly. you gripped his hair, kissing him so hard you were sure your lipstick was smudged.

"k-ken," you panted, "m'close," you felt your orgasm build, rising steadily in you.

just before you could come, kenji pulled back.

he withdrew his hands without a words and brought them to his lips, locking eyes with you as he sucked them clean.

he settled into his seat beside you, adjusting his clothes and tugged at his pants to conceal his painfully hard-cock.

you lipstick was smeared all over his mouth, and he brandished them proudly, chin lifting with a grin.

he adjusted your dress and faced forward, leaving you all hot and bothered.

tit for tat

you stared at him in bafflement, eyes wide and blinking, "are you kidding me?"

"patience is a vitrue sweetheart," he parroted your words, "you taught me that,"

you deadpanned at him, "jerk," you turned away with a huff, watching the passing city through the window.

kenji pouted at you teasingly, wrapping his arms around you and pulled you on his lap, "just wait till we get home, my love," his mouth pressed to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, "gonna ruin you tonight," he thumbed at the lipstick smudged on your mouth.

you turned and gripped his face, squishing his face. his glassy eyes, your lipstick across his mouth and cheeks, his chest rising and falling, his fluffy raven hair...

you could just eat him up.

"you better make it up to me for all the teasing, kenji sato," you spoke in a low voice, eyes demanding.

kenji captured your lips in a soft kiss, conveying his promises for the night, "yes ma'am,"

[lilianade-comics]

My Cheese Melt AU is an alternate series of events beginning in Kindred Spirits (in which Vlad never sends Dani to capture Danny, because he convinced himself that it would be a waste to get rid of a perfectly serviceable clone so quickly, leading directly into him getting so unreasonably attached to her that he forgets all about the original "perfect son" plan) which then turns into a Dani inclusive, family dynamic focused rewrite of season 3. (the fic series starts with spirits less than willing)

Dani is present for certain important canon episodes (currently Eye For An Eye, Urban Jungle, and Living Large are the ones I've fleshed out) but she also gets episodes about her. Such as her first day at school, her obligatory identity crisis episode in which she recruits Sam and Tucker to help find her some hobbies and interests that are sufficiently different from anything Danny or Vlad likes, and Aloha From the Other Side, the vacation episode where her dad breaks Hawaii by simply being Vlad. Overall, she's a sweet kid who hilariously has a better moral compass than Danny and Vlad combined, but she also has INCREDIBLE capacity to be worse than both of them, if the situation calls for it. Her arcs focus on self discovery/identity, the looming threat of destabilization, and her relationships with Vlad and Danny.

Danny's relationship with Dani is more complex in this AU, because he doesn't trust "Vlad's daughter" at all at first. It doesn't help that the first time he meets her is in Eye For An Eye, right after sending the GIW to destroy Vlad's (and Dani's!) house. And now, Vlad is obnoxiously hellbent on replacing him with "Ellie Phantom" as the protector of Amity Park! But after Dani proves she has a mind of her own and hasn't been completely brainwashed by Vlad, and doesn't necessarily approve of his villainy, Danny shifts from animosity more toward concern for her. He knows Vlad well enough to realize that he's inevitably going to break her heart, and Danny is going to be there to protect her when it happens. (But what Danny doesn't know is that Vlad already broke Dani's heart when she discovered the truth about his initial plans for her before they moved to Amity Park. He saved her life in a fit of petulant guilt immediately after to make up for it, which is why she's still with him.)

And then there's Vlad himself. It would be helpful to think of his arc here as less of a redemption arc, and more of a domestication arc. Vlad is still a supervillain and Danny's arch enemy, but because of his parental attachment to Danielle his antagonist status is just as likely to be seen in him hauling Danny back to FentonWorks by the ankles because it's past his bedtime as it is in his latest cringefail brilliant scheme. In general, he finds himself in increasingly mundane situations by virtue of being involved in Dani's life, which generally results in comedy because Vlad is anything but equipped to handle parenthood (or mundane situations) normally. He's also allowed to have a rare reflective moment now and again and generally be a little more layered than just a villain. There's also increased opportunity for temporary allyships, because Vlad and Danny agree on Only One Thing: Dani is to be protected at all costs.

[divine-misfortune]

The hoes asked for more virginity kink Aether, with a side of corruption kink, and honestly I fully blame @iamthecomet because of that fucking Aether/Phantom fic from a while back (comet you know what you DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I haven't been okay and or normal since.)

I made a post a long while ago about Alpha being Aether's first, just had to take the fresh quint after seeing him so painfully and obviously lusting after Omega for so long. Had to dangle every filthy detail he knew about his mate over Aether's head. It's Alpha's fault he's like this, taking such visible glee in pushing Aether into every new feeling. His new vessel is so sensitive, so unexplored, and he tells him as such.

Aether realizes it with Dew, when he moans into his mouth and flinches from his big hand palming at him through his slacks. The feeling is surprising and it confuses him, Dew looked like a deer in headlights that day - flushed and panting, straining and leaking in his boxers, brows pinching upwards as he stares back at Aether. The naivety in his pale blue eyes makes something dark and sick claw at the back door of his mind, a beast fighting for its way in to wreak havoc on the water ghoul trapped between his body and the wall.

He shushes the surprised whimper Dew questions him with, the doubt muffled in a kiss fueled by greed. A desire to take what can never be given back.

Promises of 'I'll take care of you' 'I know exactly what you need', and 'you'll feel so good' to soothe away hesitation. The final nail in the coffin is when he squeezes Dew's cock and begins to stroke him through the suffocating fabric, his little body twitching and reacting without his permission as Aether whispers 'you trust me, don't you droplet?' Dew's dick jumps in his hand and he knows he has him even before the shaky, feeble nod.

The first time is intoxicating. He wishes he could defile Dew's innocence over and over and over. Dew indulges him sometimes, plays demure and sweet the way he once did genuinely. It scratches the itch for the most part - Dew is a good actor after all.

But sometimes the greed rears it's ugly head.

Aether tries to keep himself in check but it's hard. All the siblings he passes in the hallways reeking of virtue yet to indulge in the most pleasurable cardinal sin. His teeth itch to become acquainted with all of that unsullied flesh.

The hardest, most strenuous test of his will is when they bring the new summons to him after their arrival. Still unaccustomed to their bodies, moving awkwardly and carefully like they don't quite understand why every part does what it does. He's tasked with assuring they're healthy, that nothing went awry in their arrival, and of course he does. It's his top priority after all! He's been professional each time but his mind wanders on him, that he can't help.

He eyes the warm untouched body with a hunger that none of them pick up on at the time. New summons hold no shame, no learned sense of modesty yet, unknowingly teasing him with every inch. There have been a few times he's dared an inch too far, brushing softened cocks in passing or kneading more than necessary at breasts under the excuse of examination. Makes his heart race and his body ache with desire, horribly aware of the way his dick sticks to his thigh, a feeling becoming more uncomfortable by the second.

The second they are whisked away Aether is fumbling with his zipper. Growling as he tugs at himself, hunched over his desk with a hand flat to the surface, nails digging into the wood. The idea is wrong and he should be ashamed for wanting it but all Aether can do is want.

He wanted to take them, all of them. Introduce their bodies to addicting sensation. Mold their wants to align with his own as they simply don't know any better.

Aether knows the position he's in, how trusted he is, and truthfully it only makes the desire to corrupt more voracious.

He spills into the waste basket with a groan, and the beast is satiated briefly with fantasy, but for how long it will remain that way he can't tell.

[throwaway-yandere]

Ansy maybe I can send an idea about this. Maybe this yandere is turning into a zombie/monster, Reader sacrifices or willingly let's the yandere eat reader so the yandere wouldn't hurt others. Other idea, Yandere is a monster/cannibal and reader has a flesh that is very addicting to eat so yandere feels guilty for eating their darling but can't as darling tastes so delicious.

A/n: I'm actually currently writing the prompt I got earlier so here's some short ideas. also, what's up with me writing cannibalism fics for two older brothers with blue-white color schemes?? *shrug*. I'll go with the 2nd idea-ish (I'll tweak it again) in this one. First time doing headcanons so... I'll adios lol.

Content Tags: hello its yandere cannibalism lmao + Whodunit spoilers

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who strangely takes too long to respond to his childhood friend's messages. You're starting to get worried that he's spending too much time inside the dreamscape. Although your race greatly differs from his- being an ordinary human resident and all- you heard numerous stories that Halovians tend to carnally seek glamorous feasts after hosting series of events.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who finally replied to your recent message, telling you "DON'T COME, PLEASE." with bold capital letters. You can only raise an eyebrow, considering you're already on his front door with a fruit basket at hand. In hindsight, perhaps you should've considered giving him a heads-up beforehand instead of rudely announcing your visit. But you are genuinely worried for his overall wellbeing, especially given what happened to his sister.

And perhaps, you were also just looking for someone who could understand your grief as well. He wasn't the only one stripped of their family so suddenly. The thought of your friend starving himself had pushed your own sadness away in favor of sheer platonic worry. That was how strong your bond was.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who shook, mortified at the knocks on his front door. As much as possible, he can't let you in. The current nightmare he calls "HUNGER" was an unforgiving beast. He leaned against the other side of the closed door, breathing heavily.

"(Y/n), n-now is not the time for a visit! Forgive me for this crudeness, but I shan't open the door at present." You hear him inhale shakily. "To have you see me like this undermines all the work I've put in our... friendship."

You sighed. "Alright, I'm sorry. But... can I please just leave this on your porch?"

"... I will not bar you from doing so..."

"Thank you."

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY whose hands refused to stop trembling. You're so close. He can almost taste you behind that door. A chill runs down his spine as he noticed just how much his mouth was watering at the thought of taking a bite.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who thought himself most detestable for his cravings. The Odes of Harmony preaches honesty among its many virtues, and he would drown himself for omitting the grim truth from you. THEY will not be happy with this relapse of his.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who bit his thumb, drawing blood. THEY wouldn't endorse this behavior from a representative of the Family.

YANDERE CANNIBAL!SUNDAY who looked at his bleeding finger and laughed sorrowfully at the lingering question on his mind.

Whose blood was it? His... or THEIRS?

Sunday could never be at ease after committing this crime. A Halovian like himself would never allow their vision to be clouded in red, and it appears the devil had saw an opportunity to hurl at two birds with one stone. But that would be an inaccurate way to describe it. His wings had not been clipped; he had brutally torn it away himself.

Penacony's most shrewd man lied to the arrogant fool that evening. There were four murders in that timeframe. One was a stowaway, the other was his precious sister, and the last pair was both your father and mother.

THEIR vision of a happy future for you did not welcome HIM.

All he recalls now was their polite disapproval turned screams when he made an attempt to ask for their blessing. Sunday only realized what he had done the moment he had sunk his teeth down your mother's arm, noticing how your father was already but boney remains of himself.

This Halovian ancestry's secret... it served him no good.

Why was he born into this race and why wasn't he raised just like you?

"Watchmaker... How can I ever forgive myself for this...?"

How can he dare proclaim to mete out justice when he deserves to be served the same sentence? "Sunday" himself is a transgressor, unworthy of yielding Harmony's name.

What heathen he was, to partake in flesh and blood that was not for his stomach simply because they both smelled just like you. What heretic he was, to place anger and hunger above his better judgement.

What karma it was, to find out his sister has been killed in his moments of guilt.

What retribution it was, to face that what he had done to others, will be done unto him.

[fiendishfables]

Can you make a top Lute x fem reader nsfw?

a/n: I most certainly can; love my girl Lute. Definitely going to try and write some more for her in the future. Enjoy!

warnings: nsfw, fingering, eating out, cursing, Adam being a funny lil' guy, mention(s) of killing

words: 1.5k+

characters: 8624

additional notes: thanks for 20+ followers, y'all! More fics are on the way; requests are always open!

format: Oneshot

"L-Lute!~"

"Tsk. Stay still, brat."

Your girlfriend had just come back from the usual annual extermination. Being an exorcist angel under Adams command was quite stressful, as she often took it upon herself to make known to you. Having her come back to you all irritable and angry was a normal occurrence on many days, but she did have her good days in between.

But, you'd have to admit that you liked getting to be subjected to Lute's bitter attitude sometimes.

Especially if those times happened to turn out like this one.

Lute currently had her hands purchased on the plush, supple flesh of your thighs, using her very evident strength to keep them apart from one another; keeping you exposed to her. Your legs would never be closed for as long as she had her head between them. Crush her skull all you like. She was determined to get what she deserved; claim what was rightfully hers.

Her tongue lapped at your sopping folds, nose just barley bumping your clit to provide that extra shock of pleasure. You had your fingers tangled in her short, silver hair, which she would normally scold you for, claiming it took her forever to get it to look so nice. This time though, she says nothing, as she knows you're only doing it due to the immense amounts of pleasure she is causing you to feel, the euphoria swirling throughout your body like a rapid whirlpool, ready to suck you into its deep, dark depths. Never to be seen again.

Your heavy breathing mixed with the sounds of her tongue in and around your pussy; the pace of her skillful tongue bringing you spiraling towards the edge. It was all so pleasurable, yet beautiful.

One of her hands moved upwards to your lower stomach, applying gentle force to keep your hips from bucking upward towards her mouth in an attempt to get more friction. Her tongue delved even deeper into you as she got a soft moan in response to her dominating action, exploring every spongey wall, every sensitive nerve.

Every damn place her tongue could reach in order to mark you as hers.

The shaking of your thighs, the heat of your breath, all must have been a sign for Lute to switch tactics. She never let you get off that easy. She wanted, needed, to have her fun with you; her little angel.

As she lifted her head from between your legs, your own slick covering her lips, you could've mewled. As the cold air now hit your pussy lips, it made you miss her skilled tongue almost immediately. It took most of your will power to refrain from pulling her back to you and pushing her head back down between your thighs where you both knew it rightfully belonged.

But that wasn't how things like this worked.

At least not with Lute.

She had taught you that patience was a very valuable virtue when it came to getting what you wanted. Especially if you wanted that specific something from her.

"Good girl. Seems like you can learn after all."

Lute spoke surprisingly soft, even with that smirk still playing on her face. The same smirk she always adorned whenever she knew she had denied you that sweet release; the one she had been helping to build for the past half-hour now.

At this point, you were surprised that Adam hadn't come busting into the room looking for his lieutenant. Lord, it was a miracle in itself that the two of you had managed to get this much time to yourself without the fucker interrupting you. The amount of times he had walked in on you, either with Lute's face between your thighs, or her fucking the living daylights out of you with a strap on.

Adam being Adam, he had tried multiple times to try and convince Lute to let him stay and watch, or even join in on the action.

Not surprisingly, he had failed each of those times and often left with a new bruise added to his face; the result of Lute blasting him with a beam of light and cursing at him, yelling at him to leave before she got up and made him leave.

The threat usually worked, because neither one of you wanted to know what that would look like.

You were instantly snapped out of your thoughts, feeling Lute's nimble fingers now rubbing heavily pressured circles onto your clit, sending rakes of pleasure running up your spine. A choked moan left your lips as she then proceeded to add a finger, then two, into your gaping hole, so eagerly sucking her digits in.

"Such a tight little pussy you got, babe." She cooed, fingers picking up their pace, movements becoming relentless in their pursuit of making you cum.

"Nice to know you haven't been touching yourself whenever I'm out for the evening. All because you know I'm the only one who can make you feel like this, huh?"

You only gave a weak nod in response, stars and spots beginning to fill your vision. It felt like the whole room was spinning around you.

"Y-yes, Lute. Fuck, yes. Only y-you."

Your voice sounded almost hoarse, as if you had been screaming to your hearts content only hours prior. But your mind was quickly put back on track as your girlfriends nimble fingers sped up their pace, both on your clitoris and inside, pumping those digits vigorously in and out of you in a steady pattern that had you on cloud nine.

Before you had time to fathom anything currently ongoing, you let loose a strangled cry of pure bliss from your throat, as Lute let her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm.

Your entire body seemed to go through a series of tremors, showing the real effect Lute's fingers had been having on you. Your thighs shook; your chest rapidly rose and fell.

It was like a whole new heaven.

Once you had calmed down a bit from the intense wave of pleasure that had just so recently washed over you, she removed her fingers from in between your wet folds. She seemed to carefully inspect them before bringing them up to her lips, which already happened to be glossy with your slick from earlier, and licked the juices right off of them, as if she were a starving woman and this would be her last time ever tasting you.

She licked her lips, looking quite satisfied as she smirked down at you. She then gave you a gentle, affectionate kiss on the lips, letting you taste your own produce on her mouth.

"Mm. Damn. Sweet as always, angel."

You were busy catching your breath as she said this, swallowing the spit that had collected in your mouth and around your lips, thanks to the disheveled state your girlfriend had reduced you into. Even your hair was in a fray and she hadn't even touched it.

"Lute, do you want me to...return the favor? I know you're bound to be stressed from extermination earlier-"

You were cut off by her scoff, almost as if she had been offended that you would even begin to offer such a thing.

"Heavens no. What do you take me for, some selfish bastard?" She asked, lips pulling down into that signature grumpy frown she normally wore.

"What- babe no. Lu, its not selfish for wanting your partner to return the favor for you, especially if you just gave them an orgasm as good as that."

She huffed, looking almost cute with her face scrunched up in a scowl. But it had wiped clean off her face, eyes softer now, as she looked back towards you.

"Whatever. But I'm fine, babe, really. Tonight was about you, and you did so good for me. Thank you for letting me get to taste you."

She seemed to think for a second before adding:

"It was even better than getting to slaughter those demon bitches down in hell today."

You offered Lute a tired smile and let out a soft laugh at her attempt to compare your pussy and killing demons in the same sentence. Eventually, she too ended up chuckling, though still holding the statement to be true, no matter how much you seemed to want to laugh or disprove it.

At the end of the day, you both loved one another more than either of you could ever bring out into words or actions.

So many emotions came to surface when loving the fierce-spirited, exorcist angel known as Lute.

It was rough.

It was different.

It was maybe even a bit playful.

But by all the angels and their beautiful wings, was it fun.

(Bonus + featuring the 'original dick')

…Though of course it could never last too long, as the sudden booming voice of Adam rang out throughout the room as he practically kicked down the door, no doubt looking for his favorite lieutenant and her girlfriend.

"Guess who's back , bitchesss! Ey, Lute, looks like your party here is missing some of the 'original dick'! All ya had to do was ask-"

He never did get to finish his sentence, for there was already an angelic spear being flung at his head, resulting in a high-pitched scream from Adam, which was enough for him to go silent in shame that his lieutenant could manage to evoke such a noise from him.

He never did seem to walk in on you two much after that.

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

I have a fic where Gabriel's true form is more similar to Virtues but that he's strong enough to shape shift into a more humanoid form almost as a show of power and he can wield weapons with his hands unlike Virtues who can only use light to attack people. So he has like skin and flesh and blood but only because he willed it into existence.

there's 2 types of gabe opinions

Option 1 (see above)

Option 2

both are good

[aechii]

₍₍ GiVE AND YOU SHALL RECEiVE ₎⁠₎

PAiRiNG ?! toxic!jude x toxic!blackfemreader

GENRE ?! angst

SYNOPSiS ?! jude thinks his nonchalance is acceptable, and finds no fault in it. but two can play at that game...

C/W ?! she/her pronouns used, unhealthy relationship, i made jude an asshole in this sorry not sorry, but he has regrets?, reader is just petty, break up *sobs*, reader deserves better

A/N ?! was gifted a prompt by @loadivine and it was love at first sight. i knew i had to write this fic immediately so all credit goes to them, thanks babeee ❤️ anyways, sit back and enjoy the hellish doings within a toxic relationship. hope i did it justice 🤗

~°~

[y/n] took pride, and found contentment in, the fact that jude didn't reside within the stigma of footballer, swearing by the truth and only the truth, finding no shame in being vulnerable and open with her as couples do.

so jude wasn't always like this. there was a time where the relationship was 100/100, both received and both gave love, found it much more beneficial to dissolve an argument as quick as it came into fruition. communication is key, and it was a virtue they both stood by, because at the end of the day, they lived together, and would have to conclude to a resolution anyways.

but now, [y/n] couldn't even consider jude as her boyfriend. couldn't look at the man that held a countenance so foreign and distant and proclaim that he was her's and vice versa. because frankly speaking, she felt vastly the opposite.

it was like jude was a dead weight, and she was forced to drag him along with all the other burdens that she had. the relationship now distributed at 0/200, [y/n] could slowly sense the demise of her patience, a ticking time bomb, but she knew she loved jude more than life itself, and letting him go- breaking up with him was heinous. unfathomable.

she was told, urged, to end things things with him. remembers crying to her sister the hour she came home from a night out with jude. they had both left the house with hands linked and returned without the other.

jude had found no wrong in the girl that had seemingly bonded her body to his all night, and when [y/n] had noticed, confronting him about it in the car, he turned a blind eye. offered no reassurance that whatever happened at the party was on the woman's own accord and that he wasn't to blame.

it was almost as if he enjoyed it.

"so how would you like it if a random dude followed me around the whole night, hm?"

looked at her as if he was listening, feigned attentiveness as he nodded calmly and said, "i dunno."

shrugged and began to recline his seat backward, sensing the crawling ache of sleep in his muscles. would rather doze off here than listen to his girlfriend rant about something he had no fleeting thought for.

he didn't have the intention to even talk to the girl outside the four walls of the grandeur hall. couldn't find it in himself to care about anything, really.

jude could hear the nipping anger as his girlfriend's eyebrows scrunch and she became more rigid.

"you dunno?"

"exactly what i said."

felt dumbfounded at his blunt response, as if he had physically forced tape upon her lips to keep her silent.

"you keep pestering me about shit that i couldn't give a flying fuck about, [y/n]. we are together, not me and her." voice had raised in attitude just an inch. riddled [y/n] in a horrid way and immediately snapped at him back.

"check your tone with me, jude."

"haven't done shit." his retort was quick and mortifyingly calm. remained with loosened flesh as he retreated into the cushioned car seat, closing his eyes.

"you're not going to sleep until we sort this out," [y/n] chastised. jude could honestly are less, though.

"watch me."

and she had indeed. looked on in disbelief as the man in front of her shut his eyes, arms enveloping his chest. whether to actual sleep, or to pull her leg, she didn't care. was completely done with everything to do with jude.

she hurriedly gathered her things in the car, muttering, "i'm so fucking done with your shit," before exiting the car with a vexed slam of the door. made the inconvenient but rather preferred idea to call an uber to her sister's house, which wasn't that much further from her and jude's. she would undoubtedly stay over for a night or two than look at the stranger she had called her boyfriend.

didn't have an ounce of care on whether jude got home safely or not. put her phone on silent as she sat at the back of the taxi, tears already permeating down her face. [y/n] could feel the stare of the driver from his mirror, but was too exhausted to reprimand him for his blatancy.

she didn't know what else she was expecting when she sought comfort from her sister. had heard all those words before, many a time, and although she knew her sibling was right, [y/n] couldn't muster up the courage to actually go through with it.

"it's either you settle all of this once and for all, or you break up with him."

she had wanted to laugh right there and then, remembering what had occurred when she had attempted to talk things out, a few nights before.

had asked jude to chat, to which he replied with a low, dismissive hum, it hurt more than she showed.

"jude."

his eyes didn't leave his phone, leaving his girlfriend frustrated. took matters into her own hands and snatched it from him, but received a minutely dazed jude, staring at his empty palm, sighing.

"what do you want, babe?"

the endearment sounded wrong, in all directions and in every twisted way. it made the girl scoff.

"babe? so now i'm your babe?" tone incredulous, [y/n]'s glare remained stitched to the side of jude's head.

he turned to her, face relaxed and composed, without a silver of care. found it within himself to feign the affection, however.

"what do you mean? of course you are! we haven't broken up, have we?"

it was not a question but rather a statement. urged to end the conversation right there and retreat to their room upstairs but [y/n] emanated persistence.

"well you're fucking acting like it," [y/n] retorted, "do you even care about me anymore?"

jude didn't think about his response, it was all habitual, second nature, " 'course i do."

his words triggered a disbelieving scoff from the girl beside him, "really?"

jude nodded and left it at that. picked at a curl in his fingers and started rolling it between his thumb and index.

his lack of reply irritated [y/n], face scrunched into an almost permanent scowl, "you're not even trying, jude! you barely acknowledge my presence or even talk to me. what the hell is wrong?"

shook his head and mumbled, "nothing."

"i'm not stupid, ju-"

interrupted by a man who, despite his laid back attitude, held so much vindiction. head slumped against the back of the sofa, eyes finding solitude in staring ahead rather than at the woman before him.

"maybe see that the glass is half full, and not half empty, [y/n]."

there's an inkling of dread, masked with confusion however, that stabbed the girl's heart at his insinuation. silently begged the heavens that what she thought is a product of stupid overthinking.

"what are you talking about?" wished it came out stronger and harsher, as intended, but only released as soft questioning.

"be happy that i'm still here- still with you. you're lucky."

if she had relayed his words to her sister, she knew she would've received a slap to the head. they were a flashing persistent warning sign that it was time to leave. that it was the beginning of the end. jude saw the relationship as [y/n]'s honour, something that would benefit her as long as she remained with him.

but this time around, [y/n]'s sister concluded her lecture with a sentence that had her younger sibling's mind scream fucking eureka!

"or you could do neither, and make him feel what you feel. return that energy, [y/n]."

+_-

jude couldn't conjure a reason as to why he had counted just how long [y/n] had been like... that.

he knew that something was off the second she had walked back in the house 2 days after their fight in the car. had not felt the rippling force of a slamming door, or the frustrated collision of keys upon wood.

everything was sedated. the vibe, especially, had plummeted down to a neutral level, and as much as it should've put jude at ease, he would've rather she had burst in, angered, than strolled in with not a vehement thought in mind.

but at that point in time, it wasn't anything he was deeply concerned about. pushed it in the back of his mind, just in case he had to retrieve it later, but everything came rushing back at an unforeseeable velocity that it gave jude whiplash.

on the scale of their relationship, [y/n]'s side seemed to have abandon more than half of its weight. as jude could slowly envision their sides levelling out as he began to plunge from his high, and she commenced her rise.

and then it became 0/0.

+_-

shamed him to say that it had been weeks since he has received any form of affection from his partner. it was baffling the first day he left the house the ritual kiss from his girlfriend. he may have not returned the sentiment, or said anything toward appreciating it, but he internally found it grounding. and without it, he feared a curse would come.

he was just about to leave for training, yet halted as he realised that he hadn't felt the remnants of his girlfriend's lips on his. turned around with a confused face and said, "no kiss?"

[y/n] had not lifted her attention from the phone in front of her, attentively watching a new episode of her current fave, "you'll be fine, jude."

"uh, no?"

she sighed, cocking her head as her face screamed apathy, "jude, you'll be late. just go."

still confused, jude left the house with the inkling feeling that things were to go downwards. yet kept the façade that he was unaffected, though he was palpably the opposite, and proceeded with the day. had thought that maybe she in a temporary sour mood, and things would turn around soon enough.

it never did.

+_-

"you're not listening to me, [y/n]."

the girl rolled her eyes lazily, "i hear you, jude. i'm just not in the mood right now."

the tv blared with another saturday night show, left jude severely disinterested, but [y/n] appeared invested.

"so when will you be all ears to listen to what i have to say?"

the girl shrugged and left his words unresponded to. annoyed, jude grabbed the remote from the sofa, shutting the tv off. heard [y/n] exhale exasperatedly, then felt his side of the couch dip as she arose from her seat.

"i'm going to bed then."

jude didn't give her time to step an inch away from her place, gripping her arm firmly as he spoke, "you're not going anywhere until we speak."

[y/n] began to maniacally chortle, and it slightly frightened the man behind her.

"oh, haven't i heard those words before."

realisation hit jude like a punch to the gut, and anger is the first instinct that overtook his thinking, "so you know what you're doing?"

"i'm not doing shit jude." yanked her arm out of the man's hold as she turned around to face him, "and leave me alone, for God's sake."

jude looked at his girlfriend incredulously, finding it hard to believe that the girl in front of him was acting unlike herself.

"speak to me, [y/n]," could hear the urgency in his tone but knew that there were more serious matters at hand, "we're a couple, we communicate."

"oh fuck off with that, jude," her words were visceral, eyes hardened into a seething stare.

"you didn't care when you were doing it to me, but now you know how it feels, all of a sudden, 'we communicate'."

the truth in her words left the boy dumb, looking at her helplessly as he tried to rummage his mind for words to say.

to tell her that he was sorry. that, although he never said it, he needed her as he needed air to breathe.

but pride, the downfall of men, was the manacle that chained him away from resolution. was well aware that he was in the wrong, but had too much dignity than necessary, and saying 'sorry' was almost bitter in his throat.

"you're being petty, [y/n]."

"and you're not seeing the real problem, jude!" stopped herself before her mouth lead her mind.

"you know what- i'm leaving."

mind sped to a screeching pause, and [y/n] almost laughed at the shock that painted jude's face.

"l-leaving? to where?"

hadn't planned for this to happen. it was all too ill-fitting in this timeline, everything was against them, yet he had no one but himself to blame.

"baby, look- i'm sorry, so sorry. we can fix this, just... don't leave, okay?" jude cupped his girlfriend's face in his hands, placing his forehead on her's, "i've been stupid, i know. i've been an idiot."

waited for the girl to reply, but could physically feel his heart compress into itself as her touch came upon his wrists, gently peeling his palms from her cheeks.

"let me go, jude."

"go where, [y/n]?! home is here... with me," jude insisted, feeling his voice crack. knew that where they stood were at different frequencies, and now he fought for something that was dwindling with no point of return. he had a chance in the past, but was foolish to not take advantage of it.

[y/n] didn't find it within herself to reply, walking away as she picked up her keys from the kitchen counter. jude was hot on her trail, locking her in a backward embrace.

"don't go, please."

she squeezed her eyes shut, sensing his authenticity as his despair siphoned into her skin. but she was so over it, over how he cared so late into decline of their relationship, over how selfish jude was every moment up until now.

his shit didn't faze him, until it came back to strike him tenfold.

"it's not worth fighting over anymore. you know this jude."

his arms loosened around her waist, resting dead by his sides. felt sickeningly weak at the inevitable, looming demise.

"so we're done?"

never would've [y/n] thought she would be hearing those words,.pertaining to her own relationship. but here she was, losing the man that had once had been knitted to her soul.

"yeah. we are."

[presidenthades]

Who is your favorite TargBro ?

I answered this question last year, but I never saved the post to my masterlist so you all get to read my answer again!

I don’t think it’s a secret that I have a big soft spot for Aegon. And for all of S2’s issues, they did a pretty good job fleshing out Aegon’s character (I need to give TGC credit for his acting, of course).

It’s kinda funny because I started in the fandom more as an Aemond fan and didn’t care for Aegon. But some really good Aegon fics (I have recs somewhere on my masterlist) won me over.

I have fun writing about Aegon, especially his POV/internal monologue, because he doesn’t take himself seriously. He has a sense of humor and self-deprecation, which is an excellent base to work with when writing dramedy. He also has a volatile temper, so his mood can shift quickly.

This means that Aegon is very interesting and entertaining to write. That is the most important quality in a character: they have to be interesting. A character could be the paragon of virtue, but if they’re boring, then they’re not a character I’m drawn to.

Aegon has the advantage of being the Targbro whose POV I’ve written the most. I’m still early in Aemond/Luce’s fic, and Daeron has gotten zero POV time thus far. So maybe my preferences will change as I continue to write fics. But at this very moment, if I were forced to pick only one Targbro to write about forevermore…

[smilingformoney]

The Eternal Summer

I. Welcome to Australia

Summary: Your husband, Lord Turpin, has been instructed by the Queen to bring the British judiciary system to Australia. You travel with him, and and on arrival you meet his cousin, Elliott Marston, who invites you to stay with him while your husband make arrangements in Melbourne. In return for his hospitality, Turpin offers you to his cousin, and although you're reluctant at first, you come to find you're rather fond of the gunslinging pastoralist.

Sequel to Sins of the Flesh.

AN: Yes, I have started another fic. Yes, I will still finish my other stories (eventually). No, I didn't see a Sweeney Todd/Quigley Down Under crossover coming either, but my pussy is horny and my imagination is wild.

Content/warnings: sharing, non-consensual touching, oral sex, period-typical racism (specifically against Aboriginal Australians), gun violence, consensual infidelity, vaginal sex

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

When your husband told you that the Queen herself had asked him to work temporarily in Australia to assist in the establishment of the British judicial system, you went through multiple emotions over the weeks leading up to your departure. You mourned at first that he would be away from you for so long, until he told you that you were to come with him. Then, you had been daunted by the prospect of moving to such a distant place. A small part of you registered that your brother was in Australia too, but the chances of seeing him were slim.

Finally, as the day of your departure approached, you began to feel excited. You had never even left London, yet here you were travelling to the very end of the world as the lady wife of Lord Turpin, the formidable English judge who would bring peace and justice to Australia just as he did England.

The journey itself was difficult. You spent just over two months at sea, and learned quickly that your delicate stomach wasn’t made for such journeys. You had the greatest of luxury that you could, of course, and the inside of your cabin wouldn’t look out of place in a manor. But even the finest of luxury couldn’t contest with the rage of the sea, and you spent more time than you wished churning your meals back out when the seas were rough.

The worst part was, the onboard doctor advised that to fall pregnant on the journey would be unwise, as your frequent nausea meant your body was lacking nutrients enough to keep a baby healthy, so you were forced to suspend your attempts to have a child. That didn’t stop your husband taking you regularly, however - only that he spilled elsewhere, but you sorely missed the warmth and satisfaction of feeling his seed filling your womb.

It felt like an eternity had passed when you docked at Melbourne, and to feel solid ground below your feet at last was both discombobulating and a relief. You stayed at a hotel for the first night, where your husband was finally able to spill his seed inside you again, and for the first night in a long time you slept through without being woken by your churning stomach.

In the morning, you woke to find your bed empty, so you got yourself dressed and headed down into the parlour in search of your husband.

You found him sitting at a table with a coffee and a plate of breakfast, accompanied by a man whose face was obscured by virtue of having his back to you. William spotted you and smiled, waving you over, and his companion turned to look at you.

You hoped your face didn’t blush when you locked eyes with the man and you were immediately struck by how handsome he was. He had a moustache and the shadow of a beard, and he looked somewhat like your husband, maybe a decade or so younger.

“There she is! Come sit with us, darling. I didn’t want to wake you during your first night on land. Elliott, this is my wife, [Y/n]. [Y/n], this is my cousin, Elliott Marston. He’s a - what was it you called yourself, Elliott?”

“A pastoralist. I own a lot of land and farm it. A pleasure to meet you, Lady Turpin.”

Elliott took your hand and kissed it, his moustache tickling your knuckles slightly, and you gave him a small curtsy.

“Likewise, sir,” you said politely. Elliott laughed and released your hand, letting you sit in the seat that had been left open for you next to your husband.

“You’re not in England anymore, my Lady. No need for sirs, I’m not a knight. Just Elliott will do.”

“Ah, well… in that case, you may call me [Y/n], if my lord husband permits it.”

“Of course I do!” William said with a smile just as a waitress brought you a plate of food. “We’re all family here. Elliott’s father, my mother’s brother, was my favourite uncle.”

“I apologise, my love, I - I must have not heard you say we were meeting your cousin.”

“Well, of course you didn’t hear it, because I didn’t say it. I knew Elliott had moved here, of course, but I hardly expected we’d run into one another in such a large place. Simply a case of good fortune.”

“Yes, well, I heard from Major Ashley-Pitt that they were bringing in a judge from London to establish the judiciary,” Elliott explained. If he was of a similar class to William, he had lost all table manners long ago - he was currently sat slouched on his chair, his legs spread out, a cigarette in one hand. “I mentioned as an offhand comment that my cousin William Turpin was in the London judiciary, and as luck would have it I was told he was the very judge, so when I heard when you were docking I thought I’d come to meet you. Unfortunately, you docked quite late last night, and I was already drunk in the saloon. I came in here to wait for the two of you to awake, only to find William already at breakfast. You should have seen, [Y/n], the look on his face when he recognised me!”

“I almost didn’t recognise you with that moustache and the ridiculous hat. I won’t be made to wear something so outlandish, I hope,” said William, and you decided not to mention how very garish his own judge’s garments were.

“You’ll find yourself choosing to wear the widest brimmed hat you can find once you’re out in the midday sun. It’s nothing like London out here. I always say, the natives are brutal and so is the wildlife, but Australia itself is the greatest killer of them all.”

“Elliott’s invited you to stay with him for a few days while I attend to administrative matters here, darling,” William said to you, as if he were offering you some great prize and not suggesting you leave his side for several days. “Once I’ve ironed out the paperwork and so on, got us a place to live, I’ll join you for a while, then we’ll return to town to move in properly and I can begin my work. How does that sound?”

“Must I go on without you, William? If you’re to stay in town, I’d much rather be by your side.”

William chuckled. “Until we have somewhere of our own, this hotel is all we have to live, and I won’t have my darling [Y/n] resting her head here every single night. Elliott assures me he has a much more comfortable lodging for you with him.”

You bit your lip anxiously. The thought of being away from your husband for even one night was enough to make your stomach churn as if you were back on the ship all over again. You hadn’t ever spent a night without him, not since that first day you came to his house in exchange for your brother’s life.

“But, sir —”

“Are you questioning me, wife?”

“No, sir,” you said quickly, ducking your head slightly. “Only… well, I worry that we may miss our, um… window. For my… medication. We already missed two months!”

William laughed and wrapped an arm around you. “Her womb is struggling to take my seed,” he explained to his cousin, and you blushed to hear him speak so publicly about such private matters. “The doctor prescribed that I should spill inside her often, but her sensitive stomach didn’t agree with sea travel, so we had to suspend our attempts until we reached land. We continued to make love, of course, but last night was the first time I spilled inside her since London.”

“William! We oughtn’t speak of such things —”

“Nonsense! We can speak freely in front of Elliott. Do you have a wife of your own?”

“I did, but she passed a few years ago before she could give me any children. I take the occasional whore back from town, but otherwise I sleep alone.”

“Well, that won’t do. I’ll tell you what - since you’re being so kind as to put [Y/n] up while I stay in town, she’s yours to do as you please until I join you.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and fortunately you had no food in your mouth in that moment, else it might have dropped from your mouth in a rather unladylike manner.

“But William - I can’t - I can’t lay with another man! You are my husband!”

“And as your husband, I am to be obeyed, am I not?”

“Well, yes, but —”

“Then you’ll do as I say and keep my cousin’s bed warm. You’re not to spill inside her, of course, Elliott. She’s only to take my seed.”

“Of course. Very generous of you, William, thank you.”

You could scarcely believe what you were hearing. Your own husband, who had claimed possession of you the very day you met, who had wedded you in the eyes of the Lord and promised faithfulness, was now offering you up for warmth as if you were nothing more than a spare blanket!

And yet, he was also right that your wedding vows had included not only a promise of fidelity, but a promise of obedience too. And here he was, commanding you to lay with his cousin or… whatever it was the stranger wanted you to do. Suddenly you felt like that scared young girl again, who had knocked on Judge Turpin’s door begging for mercy and ended the night surrendering your maidenhood in exchange for your wish. Although your husband had been cruel at first when you resisted, once you accepted that you were his he became kind and you even grew to love one another, and you had almost forgotten that you were simply property.

You tried your hardest not to cry when the time came to depart. Your single bag of belongings was loaded up onto a wagon, and for once William allowed you to publicly embrace him before you climbed into the wooden contraption yourself.

“I shall miss you every moment, William,” you said, holding onto him tightly, as if trying to memorise the feeling of his body against yours.

“And I you, my love. It will be lonely not to share a bed with you, but I’ll follow you as soon as I’m able. Elliott will take good care of you, I’m certain.”

You sniffed, not wanting to think of what kind of care the stranger had in store for you.

William pulled away from the embrace and looked into your eyes.

“I love you, bunny.”

You smiled. “I love you too, teddy bear.”

Reluctantly, you let him go, and Elliott gave you a hand up into the wagon. It was hard and uncomfortable, nothing like the carriages that you shared with William when you travelled around London, and already you understood what the stranger had said about Australian weather. You wrapped a bonnet around your head, and as the wagon departed, you kept your sights set on your husband, watching him shrink into the distance until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon, and then he was gone, leaving you alone with only Elliott, two of his men, and the burning Australian sun.

You were a long way from home.

Elliott’s station was very far away. You were tired of travelling all the time, so when you were told it would take “only” a few days to get there, you resigned yourself to complete and utter boredom.

When night fell, the men made camp for the night, and you gathered around the fire, sitting in silence as the men told stories about hunting dingos, whatever they were, and Aborigines, whatever they were. Although the day had been sweltering hot, as night drew on the air became colder, and you shivered slightly. Elliott, who was sat next to you, shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you said politely, speaking for the first time in hours, although you didn’t look at him.

“Hey, if you’re cold, I got a way I can warm ya up,” said an Irish man who’d introduced himself as O’Flynn, and his laugh with the other man, Hobb, was quickly interrupted when Elliott tossed a rock at him and bounced it off the Irish man’s head.

“[Y/n]’s no whore to be passed around,” Elliott said firmly as the disgruntled O’Flynn rubbed his head. “She’s my cousin’s wife, and back in London she’s a Lady. No one’s to touch her, you got that? Don’t even look at her.”

The men mumbled their apologies, then went back to the game of backgammon they’d brought along for the journey.

“Sorry about them,” Elliott said to you quietly. “With your husband being a judge, I’m sure you know that convicts get sent out here to work off their debts to society. A lot of them come to me, and most of them become honest men, but they’re still scumbags.”

You paused.

“My brother was sent out here,” you said quietly, frowning as if you’d only just remembered.

“Hmm? What was that?”

You looked up at him.

“My brother. He - he was a thief. William was going to send him to hang, but I begged him for mercy so he sent him out here instead. It’s how we met, I… I showed up on his doorstep begging for mercy. He said he’d spare my brother if I gave him my maidenhood. Then he kept me.”

Elliott raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Your brother was a thief?”

“Only bread. We were hungry… our parents were dead and I didn’t earn very much. But a crime is a crime, my husband says, no matter the reasoning. I’m very grateful he showed my brother mercy that day. Now my brother is working to become a better man, just like your men, and I have the most devoted husband.”

Elliott was looking at you with a strange expression on his face, as if you were a curious puzzle he was trying to solve. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short when Hobb let out a whoop of victory as he won his game.

“Well done, Hobb. Now, keep it down, I’m going to bed.”

The men mumbled their discontent and folded away their game. Elliott, meanwhile, stood and offered his hand to you. You took it gratefully, and followed him into the tent he had set up to share with you. There wasn’t a whole lot of space, especially with there being two of you, and you blushed when he began undressing in front of you.

When he was down to his undergarments, Elliott looked over at you, and chuckled when he saw that you were pointedly facing away from him, struggling to get out of your corset on your own.

You twitched in surprise when you felt his hands reach around to assist you in untying the lace that held the corset together. You let him take over, his movements surprisingly gentle for hands so large and calloused, and you kept your head turned away from him, trying to ignore the tickling of his breath on your neck.

“My men may be scumbags, but I’m certainly not,” Elliott said softly. “I think we both know what your husband meant when he offered you to me, but I like to think Australia hasn’t completely beaten the English gentleman from me. I won’t deny, [Y/n]… you are a beautiful woman. William’s a lucky man. But I won’t take anything from you that’s not freely given. Do you understand?”

You nodded tentatively, and Elliott helped you out of your dress, leaving you in only your underthings. You climbed under the blankets, and the feeling of the hard earth beneath you reminded you of the days before you’d met your husband, when you’d sleep on the floor because you could only afford to rent one bed for your brother.

True to his word, even though he laid next to you, Elliott made no move to touch you. You were cold, though, and so you scooted closer to him, and although you couldn’t see it in the dark, he smiled when he wrapped an arm around you and held you tight, glad to have the company of a woman who wasn’t a whore, a kind and sweet lady, with an innocence that seemed vastly out of place in the harsh terrain of Australia.

William was a lucky man indeed.

The next two days passed without much event. You started to wonder if Elliott’s station even existed, or if anything existed. Perhaps you’d simply imagined London, the ocean, life outside the barren desert that was Australia. By day you sat in the back of the wagon, and every few hours Elliott would move you to a different seat. It took an embarrassingly long time for you to realise that he was keeping you in his shadow, blocking you from the harsh rays of the sun with his own body.

The heat made you sleepy, and so you napped for a lot of the journey, and for the time you were awake you watched the world go by, marvelling at the wonders of the outback and listening intently as Elliott told you about the different creatures that you passed.

The strangest creatures you saw were called “kangaroos,” which hopped around on overly large feet and although their arms were short, Elliott assured you that they were stronger than men, and extremely dangerous to approach.

A dingo, you learned, was a type of wild dog, although they looked more like foxes than dogs, you thought. When dingos were spotted, the wagon was stopped, and the men got out to hunt the poor things. You winced at the loud gunshots, and you thought that Elliott was trying to impress you with his gunmanship, but really you were just worried for the poor animals.

The men loaded some of their kills in with the luggage, covering the bodies with blankets to stop the heat cooking them prematurely, and left the rest to rot in the sun. You gave false pleasantries to the men for their impressive hunting skills, and Elliott seemed pleased when you told him you’d watched him the whole time.

“What are the other creatures you said you hunt? Aborigines?”

Hobb and O’Flynn exchanged glances, and Elliott tensed slightly. He’d taken recently to throwing an arm around your shoulder when he sat next to you, and you felt his hand on your upper arm tighten slightly, pulling you in closer, as if to say the very word was to summon the elusive Aborigine, and he had to keep you close to protect you.

“Creatures is one word for them. But they’re people, supposedly. Backwards, primitive people, still stuck in the Stone Age. The Americans have their own primitives too, but they’ve tamed theirs, more or less. But Australia’s one great failure is our inability to domesticate the Australian Aborigine. So her Majesty’s government allows settlers to deal with the matter in their own way. ‘Pacification by Force’, it’s called.”

You frowned, trying to understand. “So you hunt… people?”

“They’re hardly people, love,” O’Flynn interjected. “They might look like people, but they can’t even talk. They just grunt. Stuck thousands of years in the past, they are. Only language they know is violence. Some you can domesticate, and you’ll find some back at the station. But some of ‘em resist, and those, we put down. Survival of the smartest, you see.”

You weren’t sure that sounded right, but you knew not to contradict men, so you kept quiet, though the thoughtful frown remained on your face. The wagon trundled on, and you found yourself relaxing against Elliott, who was still firmly holding onto you, ready to protect you from any stray Aborigine or kangaroo that might appear.

After an eternity had passed, Elliott woke you from a nap to point you towards a speck on the horizon he told you was his station.

“How far have we travelled?”

“About 300 miles,” Elliott replied proudly, “most of it mine. And we’ve hardly made a dent into Australia. Do you know, it’s estimated that Britain could fit into Australia thirty times with room to spare.”

“Wow,” you gasped, wide-eyed, peering into the distance to make out the station growing nearer. “I always thought London was big, but it’s just a dot on the canvas of the world. Is your land bigger than London?”

Elliott chuckled. “Much bigger. I’d offer you the tour, but it’d take longer than you have. Even I haven’t set foot on every square inch of my own land. But I can give you the tour of my station, and perhaps I’ll even take you out to meet some of the animals. Would you like that?”

“Oh yes!” you replied eagerly, looking up at him with the most adorable wide-eyed excitement he’d ever seen on a young woman. “Do you have sheep? I’ve always wanted to meet sheep.”

“Plenty of sheep, so long as the Aborigines haven’t tried to steal them again. Perhaps you could help shear one - cut its coat, I mean. I don’t suppose you see much animal life in London, do you?”

“Only the rats,” you said with disgust. “Stray cats and dogs, I don’t mind them. But the rats are horrible.”

“Well, I can’t promise no rats here, but at least we have the guns to shoot them.”

You glanced down at the gun on Elliott’s waistband - a “revolver,” he’d called it, on account of the revolving barrel containing the bullets - and your stomach twisted with anxiety. Guns were only owned in London by the upper classes - or by the lower classes, if obtained illegally. William had a few of his own, but you never saw them, as he brought them out only for hunting trips and he hadn’t been hunting since you’d met him. And yet, every man out here seemed to have a gun - for protection, Elliott assured you, against wild animals and Aborigines.

That didn’t stop them from making you feel uneasy.

The wagon pulled into the station at last, and Elliott helped you down from the wagon. A few of the men milling around shot glances at you that you recognised only too well, and you instinctively stepped closer to Elliott, as if his proximity kept you safe.

“Don’t you worry about them,” Elliott assured you, wrapping an arm around your waist protectively. “They’re used to the only women arriving here being whores. I’ll make sure they know you’re nothing of the sort.”

Weren’t you? William had offered you to his cousin as payment for his hospitality, after all. It seemed that no matter where you were in the world, you had nothing more to offer men than your body.

Elliott saw you into his house, one arm firmly around your waist while the other carried your bag over his shoulder, and gave you a quick tour of the house before depositing your bag in the bedroom you were to share with him.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing - there’s only the one bed, as there’s only the one of me.”

“That’s alright. I don’t like sleeping alone. Some nights William comes back late, I can’t sleep until he’s home and in bed with me. You’ve been a fine sleeping companion in the tent, I’m sure you’ll be as much of a gentleman in the bedroom too.”

“Don’t be so sure of that, sweetheart,” Elliott smirked, looking down at you with a twinkle in his eye. The arm around your waist pulled you in closer, and his other hand traced your shoulder along the edge of your bodice slowly, as if trying to restrain himself from ripping it off. “I restrained myself in the outback, but here in the comfort of my own home, sleeping next to such a beautiful woman…” He sighed. “I can’t promise much gentlemanly behaviour.”

You knew you should be revolted at such brazen flirting from a man who wasn’t your husband, but you couldn’t deny that Elliott was a handsome man, and you’d spent more than a significant amount of time during the journey wondering what it might be like to kiss him… and your husband had ordered you to keep his cousin warm…

Your eyes flitted down to his lips, as if daring yourself to kiss him, and he smirked.

“It’s been a long journey, sweetheart. Would you help ease my tension with a kiss?”

“I… I’ve never…” You gulped. “I’ve never been with a man other than my husband.”

“Of course you haven’t.”

“I’ve never wanted a man other than him…”

“But?” Elliott prompted with a raised eyebrow.

“But I find myself… wanting to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me, [Y/n]. This is Australia, after all. We take what we want here.”

You leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss him, and he met you halfway, lips crashing against yours hungrily. Elliott wrapped both arms around you to hold you tight, and you responded by threading your fingers through his hair, holding him firmly in place as your tongues danced, the desire that had built up over the last few days of travelling finally coming to a head.

He was different to your husband. He was slimmer, stronger - clearly a man who knew physical toil, whereas William had always known a life of luxury. His moustache tickled your skin slightly, and you longed to know what the coarse hairs felt like between your legs if he granted you that boon.

Their passions were similar, though, and you could feel his pressing into you - unless it was another gun.

Elliott’s hands travelled down to squeeze your bum, a cheek in each hand, and you squealed in surprise, causing your lips to part. He chuckled.

“I told you, [Y/n]… when a beautiful woman like you whips me into a frenzy, I can’t promise I’ll be a gentleman. I’ve been —”

But whatever he’d been would have to wait, because someone was knocking on the front door.

“Marston! You in? Just got back with some news about that sharp-shooter.”

Elliott sighed, and reluctantly pulled away from you. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is important. Why don’t you go to the kitchen and get yourself something to drink? Plenty of water there for you, you must be parched.”

You’d been far too hypnotised by him to notice, but you were indeed desperately thirsty, and the kiss hadn’t helped. You were relieved to discover that Australia wasn’t so backwards as to not have plumbing, and there was even a water tap to which you gratefully helped yourself as, behind you, Elliott spoke to the man at the door.

“He’s coming up with Coogan, maybe a day behind us,” said the man. “Already got himself in a fight, defending Crazy Cora of all people.”

“He can fight whoever he wants, so long as he gets the job done. Get the lodge ready for him.”

”Yessir.”

Elliott closed the door and turned back to you with a smile.

“Well, today’s been good all round. I’m off the road, I’ve got my new rifleman coming tomorrow, and best of all, there’s a beautiful woman in my kitchen.”

“It’d be even better if there was a beautiful woman in your bed.”

Elliott grinned. “It sure would. I’ll just go get one of them whores, then.”

He turned to leave, and when you made no move to follow him, he paused. Looking back at you, he saw that you were looking dejectedly down at the floor, and he laughed.

“I’m just kidding, [Y/n]!”

He walked back towards you and lifted your chin up to force you to look at him.

“The only woman I want in my bed tonight is you, if you’ll join me.”

You blushed, embarrassed that you’d taken his joke seriously. “…I’d like that.”

“Excellent. Come on, then.”

With surprising strength, Elliott lifted you from the ground and threw you over his shoulder. You squealed in surprise and he laughed. When he deposited you on the bed, your hands immediately flew to your bodice, trying to untie it as fast as you could. You’d decided to let him take you, and you wanted to fulfill your task before you changed your mind.

“You waste no time, huh?” Elliott remarked, his eyes firmly on your loosening bodice.

“Neither do you,” you retorted, noticing the way he was already unbuckling his trousers.

“I told you, I’ve been resisting taking you since we met. The hard earth isn’t the most comfortable place for fucking, and I don’t want you to think poorly of Australia because of it. I won’t deny, though, having a little grope before you woke up in the mornings. How could I resist when your tit had fallen out of your garments in the night? Rock hard nipples pointing right at me, just eager to be touched, licked… you may think I’ve been a gentleman on the journey, sweetheart, but I’m anything but.”

Your dress was on the floor now, his gun on the bedside table, his trousers pooled at his ankles. Elliott pulled your bloomers down, exposing you to the air, and you felt a sense of relief. You’d been wearing undergarments again since William had told you you were to sleep next to another man, but you’d gone so long without them that now they felt restrictive. You pulled the rest of your garments off, leaving yourself fully naked before him, and Elliott looked you up and down hungrily.

“Oh, look at you… whatever did my cousin do to deserve you? No matter. We’ve still got a few days before he arrives. We’d better make the most of it, hadn’t we?”

“Yes, sir.”

Usually when you let a sir slip, he corrected you, but he seemed to let it slide this time. Perhaps he liked it, or perhaps he was distracted by the way you dropped to your knees in front of him and reached out to take his cock in your hand.

“Oh, fucking hell,” Elliott hissed, then he let out a small moan when your tongue began teasing at his tip. He was big, but not as big as your husband, and it was no challenge at all for you to wrap your lips around his full width.

“I confess to touching you in the night, and what do you do? Get on your knees and suck my cock. I should have told you much sooner. Should have - ah - taken you on the earth after all. It’s God’s creation, isn’t it? He made the earth, and he made us for fucking… beds are man’s invention. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll take you to see the sheep, then we can fuck out in the open air like God intended.”

You hummed your eagerness around him, sliding him further into your mouth and down your throat, and Elliott gripped your hair tightly as he groaned. Once he was fully hilted inside you, you stayed still for a few moments, adjusting to the feeling and getting used to breathing through your nose.

When he decided you were ready, Elliott began thrusting into your throat, holding your head still as he tugged on your hair. You looked up at him, hardly able to see his face as his head was thrown back in pleasure, but you could see a red flush beginning to form underneath his tanned skin, and his chest was moving up and down rapidly in time with his panting.

Elliott couldn’t remember the last time he’d fucked a throat this good - if ever. You were an expert, more skilled than any whore he’d found in town, and if you weren’t already married he might have proposed to you there and then just to keep you around. If you’d truly been with no one other than William, then either you were a natural-born expert cocksucker, or he’d taught you well. Who’d have known his strict, pious, law-abiding cousin would have such a perfect slut of a wife? Your talents were wasted on him, and clearly if he hadn’t got you pregnant yet, he was doing something wrong.

With that thought in mind, Elliott just had to know if your cunt was as greedy as your mouth. He tugged on the back of your head to pull you off him, and you whined when you became unstuck, as if you’d been getting as much pleasure from it as he was.

He lifted you by your shoulders and sat you on the edge of the bed. You spread your legs instinctively, and he could have cum there and then when he saw just how wet you were.

Elliott didn’t usually bother to pleasure women, but he felt drawn to you, as if some otherworldly force pulled him to his knees to taste you, his tongue exploring everywhere he could, the coarse hair on his face rubbing against your skin sending you wild. You bucked your hips involuntarily, and Elliott responded by probing his tongue further into your folds, searching until he found your entrance and rested there, mere millimetres away from penetrating you with his tongue.

After teasing you until you could be teased no further, he came up for air, panting, and you glanced at him, his facial hair glistening with the desire you were secreting for him. He grinned at you, a hungry look in his eyes, and, so quickly you hardly had time to register what was happening, Elliott stood and slid his cock into you. You cried out in surprise, which quickly turned into moans of pleasure as Elliott began thrusting into you, holding your ankles over his shoulders. His jaw, which was still covered in you, dropped open to join you in a cacophony of moans, matched only by the slapping of his skin against yours, the unabashedly loud squelching of his cock pummelling in and out of your cunt making it clear to anyone that might pass by exactly what was going on.

Any concern you might have had about the morals of taking the cock of a man other than your husband quickly melted away. After all, it was on orders of your husband that you were here in this other man’s bed, and far be it from you to disobey your husband.

Elliott pulled out of you suddenly, and you were about to protest when he grabbed your hips and flipped you over. You instinctively stuck your arse in the air, and Elliott slipped back inside you, resuming his desperate pace, except this time he was pushing into your G-spot with every thrust, his balls slapping against your clit, and when you moaned, the noise was muffled by the mattress beneath you.

Elliott grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and slid it under you, and you gratefully took it to rest your head on, clutching onto it like it was a life raft.

“Fuck, I could stay inside this cunt all night,” Elliott groaned.

And you’d happily let him, but you could feel your climax building, and you wanted desperately to milk him, to squeeze his cock dry as you came around him and he came with you.

As if he knew what you were thinking, Elliott leant down over you, dropping his weight to his elbows, and you could feel his heavy pants against your neck as he too felt his peak threatening to explode inside you.

“El - Elliott,” you moaned, and hearing his name from your lips only spurred him on, his hips slapping against your arse almost violently. “Elliott, I’m - I’m gonna cum —”

“Yes, that’s it, sweetheart, cum for me, let me hear you…”

“Ah - fuck - El - oh my god, I - I - Elliott!”

Your muscles tensed as your orgasm hit, causing your legs to spasm, and if it weren’t for Elliott’s strong body crushing yours firmly against the mattress, you might have lost your footing.

Your sweet moans and your tight cunt were too much for him, and Elliott cried out your name into your ear as he came, seed filling you with warmth and comfort, and it was only when he collapsed on top of you, both sweaty and panting, that either of you remembered your husband’s firm instruction that he wasn’t to spill inside you.

You let out a small whine when Elliott sat up and pulled himself out of you, and you could feel the mixture of his spend and yours leaking from between your legs.

“You’d better get to the bathroom,” he advised you, his voice still heavy, and you quickly followed his instruction, dashing across the hall to try and push out as much of his seed as you could into his toilet.

When you came back, Elliott was already in his undergarments, although he’d forgone the shirt and wore only the lower briefs. He was sat up in bed, cleaning his gun, which he put down when you crawled in next to him.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze, but he cupped your face and forced you to look at him.

“I’m sorry, I was too caught up in the moment to remember your husband’s instructions not to spill inside you,” Elliott murmured. “I swear I’ll spill outside next time.”

You smiled shyly, and Elliott thought his heart might just melt. How did you do it, acting a cockhungry slut one moment, a shy lady the next, and making both acts completely believable?

“I won’t tell him,” you promised. “He spills inside me thrice daily and still my womb hasn’t quickened, so I doubt once from you will cause any trouble.”

“Thrice daily?” Elliott repeated. “Are you certain?”

“Quite certain. I’m there when it happens, after all, and usually awake.”

Elliott chuckled and shook his head. “Well, I’ll be damned. I didn’t know he had it in him.”

You nodded and bit your lip. “My husband’s quite insatiable. He has been since the day we met. I struggle to keep up with him sometimes, but he’s my husband and I love him, so I let him take me whenever he wishes. Sometimes, if I’m very tired, he’ll let me go to sleep and take me then, although sometimes he does wake me.”

Elliott’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of it. He had thought about it so many times in the tent, taking you in your sleep without you even knowing, but he’d not wanted to risk alarming you if you woke up. And here you were, telling him you were quite used to being taken in such a manner.

“Would you allow me to do the same? If I find you looking particularly delectable in your sleep, might I take my pleasure from you?”

You hesitated, but you nodded. Truthfully, you weren’t overly fond of being woken to find your husband already inside you as it was usually painful, but as kind as Elliott was to you, you were frightened of the gun that lay just feet away, and your husband had instructed you to please him. You’d already disobeyed him once by taking Elliott’s seed - you didn’t want to disobey him again. At least Elliott was asking your permission.

Elliott stayed up a little longer than you to read his book, and he found it endearing the way you nodded off curled up against him like a cat, one arm around his waist, and he knew you were sleeping when your grip on him loosened.

He put his book down next to his gun, blew out the lamp, then settled in next to you, holding you close. He estimated he had another week before his cousin arrived at the station, and Elliott was determined to win your heart in that time. After all, this was Australia, and Elliott was a man who took what he wanted - and by God, he wanted you.

[witchofthesouls]

(Okay, a snippet of the fic idea from the ask meme Burn your sins and wash away your virtues submitted by @skyite: )

< I am my brother’s equal, child of clay and stardust. My power may have waned after the long eons of my exile, but I am still tethered to Cybertron and its children for Solus is mine and I am hers. Prima is not the only one to ordain new champions for Primus, nor are you merely one of my lineage, little far-song echo of my own brand. If I am the Breaker, then you shall be the Reaper. >

And like a lifetime before, a lifetime where June was the only survivor and a god gave her a chance to go back, even if he never told her where, nor when, nor as what, Megatronus then levied himself down and breathed fire into her face and she had no choice to inhale it all. Damn the consequences because she already made her choice. Even with a body of metal rather than flesh, June melted and warped, painted bubbling, fuel flashed to steam, and robes were eaten by flames, her optics shattered and her chest imploded as she was wreathed in the very essence of his own power.

She transcended beyond pain and agony, beyond physical sensation, and would have flown away, freed from being fettered to a body if it wasn’t for the cage of Megatronus’ hands and he plucked her away and opened his own chassis. In her newfound awareness, she saw Megatronus what he truly was as he set her upon a new pyre made of his own churning spark.

< Arise, new Prime of my own frame, and Judge wisely for you shall reshape this world as I have done. >

___________

When Soundwave looked deep into the twisting flames of Solus’ legendary Forge, all he saw was a funerary pyre and Cybertron remade in the aftermath of its ashes and fury.

___________

Soundwave woke up, gasping for air. His entire frame boiling, despite the frigid temperatures several stories beneath the surface and in the sanctum where followers give tidings and thanks to the closest approximation to Megatronus’ Shadows. He shook with uncontrollable spasms and vents wheezed as cooling systems struggled immensely with Soundwave’s entire frame overheating to extreme levels. Even his own systems were prioritizing life-support and disabling others: his vision, weapons, transformative sequences, and all communications were among the considered lower priorities.

A pair of slim servos, blessedly cold and steady, held him down and dripped fresh coolant over his frame and cold fuel into his lips until the dire warning signs downgraded enough to allow him back his own sight and voluntary movement.

When he saw Juno’s face, blackened by soot and smeared in ashes, it was Megatronus Prime's own optics -twin suns of fuchsia blazing in the dark above him.

The dream was disjointed: the massive height of Solus, Liege Maximo’s gleaming horns, Megatronus’ melting glyphs, and the living flames of the Forge’s vision, but grounded in reality was the phantom cool touch of a scythe and the sword-shuttle-needle in both his hands as well as the heavy coating of residue upon his frame and smoke in his intakes.

Face bare and in his own voice, he rasped out the very name given from the blaze-turned-firestorm:

“Hail, Nemesis Prime.”

[cr-noble-writes]

Title: Vicissitude Series: Virtue and Volatility Fandom: Mass Effect Rating: Mature Characters: Jackson Shepard, Garrett Coats, Warren Mills (OMC), Steven Hackett Relationships: mShepard/Coats Tags: pre-canon, Elysium, The Blitz, canon-typical violence, implied sexual content, Outsider POV, PTSD, Drinking, trans male Shepard, renegade Shepard Word Count: 7171

Summary: Vicissitude- a variation in circumstances or fortune. Elysium, the Blitz, and choices that change the course of Jackson Shepard's life.

Notes: So, Jackson is a study in contradictions, and even more than in Verisimilitude, I discovered while writing this fic how god damn difficult in can be to demonstrate the emotional state of a guy who flat out refuses to be aware of his own emotional state lol

Anyway, I hope you enjoy learning more about Jackson. I enjoyed writing this, even the darkest bits. Also, I've done a thing I don't normally do, which is attach a song to each chapter because they're just songs that I hard associated with the chapter while I was writing it. I'll be putting them in the chapter notes as I post.

Just like Verisimilitude, this fic is complete, and I'll be posting once a week on. It is important to note that while I don't have any *super* detailed descriptions of what happens, this fic does have some darker themes.

Thank you to @rotschopf-thedrow for batting this around with me constantly for the last like... month and for alpha reading for me! And thank you to @ad-astra13 for beta reading for me <e

Special thanks to @swaps55, @bioticbooty @mallaidhsomo for helping me flesh out some of my ideas!

Read Chapter 1 Here

Excerpt:

“What the fuck is that?” His voice shakes.

“That is a batarian ship,” Shepard mutters, eyes narrowing as he looks up at it. “Probably not the only one either. How the hell did they break atmo without an alarm going up?”

Warren can’t breathe. Five minutes.

The acrid smell of burning plaster and worse overwhelms him, and his stomach rebels, emptying its contents onto the floor. He’s going to lose his job over this. If he’s lucky. Explosions sound in the near distance. He can feel them vibrating through the ground, but they’re far enough away not to be a danger to him.

They’re under attack. People are dying. His eyes flick to the bakery. People are dead. He’d just wanted a cup of coffee. “There hasn’t been a raid here in years.”

Shepard shakes his head. The orange and yellow flicker of the city burning around them plays across his calm, focused expression. “They’re pirates, not idiots. They don’t target capital cities for raids.”

[junosartsthetic]

The Babysitter

Headcanon-style fic detailing babysitter!afab!reader and everyone’s favorite gilf, Joseph Joestar. 

Warnings: penetrative sex, vaginal sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, slight mention of pregnancy, fingering, joseph being a cheater, age gap, rough sex, praising, use of pet names (sweetheart, honey), mdni, minors do not interact, all characters are 18+, smut

I should be ashamed of myself. But I’m not. Anyway.

--

You’re hired as a long-term babysitter for young Holly.

Her mother is often away on business, with her father only stopping in every so often.

It starts out innocently enough, but soon Joseph’s touches on your shoulder, and hands on your waist to get by you turn into more.

He’s a very attractive man, with scattered silver-haired dotted in his hair and beard only adding to his appeal. 

You are well aware he has a wife.

And you are well aware that when he asks you to step into his bedroom to talk for a moment, more is on the table.

You should deny his request. Tell him to have a nice evening and that you’ll be back tomorrow to watch over Holly. 

But you don’t.

Despite how wrong it is, you can’t help the excited fluttering of your chest as he shuts the door behind the two of you.

“You’ve been such a good baby-sitter for my Holly,” he explains, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I try my best, Mr. Joestar.”

“No need for that. Just call me Joseph. I think we’re close enough for that, don’t you?”

You swallow, nodding. You can feel your entire body trembling with anticipation. 

“Good girl. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His hand migrates down your arm, caressing your bare flesh.

Your tank top provides ample room to touch your revealed skin, prickling in the cool room.

“Since Suzie Q rarely comes home, I’ve been struggling on my own. I’ll be honest. It gets lonely for me, you understand?”

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that. Is there any way I can help?”

You know the implication of your words.

And so does he.

He says nothing as his hand slips under your clothing.

You shiver as his large fingers trace along your stomach, gliding up to gently squeeze your breast.

You notice a shimmer of hesitation.

Your hand moves atop his, feeling it through the fabric of your shirt.

You squeeze it.

Any caution he had is thrown into the wind.

Of course, he never had any to begin with.

Within moments, his lips mold against yours.

His facial hair is scratchy against your face, but you pay no mind as you deepen the kiss.

He massages your breast with his hand, his other wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him.

You tangle your hands in his hair, desperately pushing yourself closer to his muscled physique. 

You don’t remember your top being thrown off, nor your shorts falling to the floor as you’re pushed closer to the comfortable bed sheets.

Your back touches the blanket, and you’re pinned down as Joseph kisses your neck harshly.

Hickies form as he trails down your body, teeth finally hitting the waistband of your panties.

He wastes no time in pulling them down your thighs, giving him a clear view of your dampened cunt.

He falls to his knees, smiling up at you as your breath hitches.

Teasingly, he licks up your folds, only enough to have you squirming in impatience.

“Please,” you whimper, already overstimulated from this sudden turn of events.

“Please what?” he questions, his hands spreading your quivering thighs apart.

“I, I need you, Joseph.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Use your words.”

“I need your tongue inside, inside me,” you choke out, face burning in embaressement. “Please!”

“Good girl,” he purrs, tongue returning to explore your entrance.

He does so delicately, barely sliding inside before retreating.

It’s not enough.

You need—

“More,” you mumble, your hands finding grasp in his hair.

“Patience is not a virtue of yours,” he teases.

Suddenly, two fingers are thrust inside of you.

You let out a silent gasp, breath hitching.

You barely have time to register the digits before he begins to move them, his other hand playing with your clit.

Any words are caught in your throat as he picks up the pace, your hips bucking desperately upwards as your legs tremble.

Before you can think, a wave of breathlessness washes over you, orgasm flooding your senses.

Cum leaks from your overwhelmed cunt, covering Joseph’s fingers as he eagerly tastes your release.

You try to calm yourself, but only get a moment’s relief before Joseph rises from his spot, his muscled arms flipping you on your chest.

Your breasts push against the mattress as he unclips your bra, throwing it carelessly across the room.

Your dripping cunt feels overwhelmed, clit brushing against the silken sheets as Joseph pushes your back further down.

“Take a breath, sweetheart,” he instructs, pulling down his bottoms and boxers to reveal his hardened cock.

You do as he says, lungs taking in as much as air as they can, only to gasp it all out as he roughly slides himself into you.

Any gentleness has been tossed aside, leaving him to buck into your overworked cunt mercilessly.

“Jo—Joseph,” you pant, hands desperately clawing for purchase on the sheets. “I—”

“Shh, honey,” he moans, leaning overtop your writhing and desperate form. “You’re doing so so good for me.”

His praise halts your overwhelmed cries, leaving you to babble incomprehensibly as his fast pace begins to stutter.

You can feel every twitch of his dick inside of you, walls clenching harshly around him as he slides himself completely inside, reaching places you didn’t think possible.

You know what’s coming.

You know you should beg for him to pull out.

But a part of you moans at the thought of his cum inside of you.

Becoming more than just the babysitter.

“Don’ worry,” he huffs, barely holding back a groan. “‘m sterilized.” 

WIth that, he cums violently, the warm liquid painting your walls as you reach your own high for the second time.

Your intrusive thoughts about becoming pregnant reside, a big part of you relieved at the new information.

Your entire body relaxes, muscles unconstricting as he pulls out of your leaking cunt.

You barely register his gentle hands picking you up as he carries you to the bathroom.

“Let’s clean you off, sweetheart.”

You let out a weak hum, eager to feel the hot bath water soothing your already aching core.

[corancoranthemagicalman]

Do you have a scene you really liked but weren't able to fit it in a fic? Would you care to share? Do you have a most recent favorite line or scene? What is it?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

Oh, this is a fun question. I've been sitting on it for a minute trying to really think on it.

When I'm writing, I treat it a lot like my other forms of art—which is to say, I delete my darlings. When something doesn't work, unless it was really a killer line, it's gone and forgotten. I had this really fun dialogue convo in one of my current WIPs that just did not fit and kinda grew rampant, so I plucked her completely, and tbh in the retrospective, I don't think it was all that clever enough to have saved somewhere else. So bye-bye she went!

Even the parts that are on my "pieces and parts" doc are more...I could definitely strengthen them. They were more a feeling that I was on to that I'd love to expand upon more in a fic where they fit, if that makes sense. I've always wanted to capture "deleted scenes", so I should really document them more thoroughly in my writing process, but no scene that I was in love with didn't make it into one of my fics!

For the second part of this, mhm. I'll keep it to my published works, haha. It's definitely not recent, but so much of Compression (my Bagginshield fic) has kept so near and dear to my heart. Particularly the scene in which Thorin and Bilbo are at the forge, if I'm being honest.

For a more recent work (if we'll do the grace of over six months as recent lol) I also adore Deadly Sins and Cardinal Virtues, and not just because I got to write it with @snarky-synesthete and @cryptic-queer-cryptid . It was fun exploring my writing style in comparison to theirs, and growing from that, too. Flexing some poetry style meeting quirky character narration. I adore anything to do with apple symbolism, and there were quite a few in that fic. The one bit that really sticks out though is —

That lust-red hair was long again. Nothing fancifully braided or anything…just enough to grab hold of. Just enough that if Furfur dared, he could reach out and grasp it. Listen to what sounds might bloom from that mouth if he pulled hard enough…beckon that throat to move so that he could bruise its apple-flesh. And, oh, Furfur would. Pluck them from the forbidden tree and bite into their knowledge. Let whatever truth they had drip down Furfur’s chin like fresh wine. Bathe Furfur anew in nakedness. Furfur would tear into them—teeth to Crowley’s core—if it meant that he was the only one to know the apple. Gorge himself on the fruit and not spare a drop for the soil. The soil hadn’t deserved Crowley. Hadn’t deserved their blood, their skin, and certainly not whatever precious wine might pour out of their ecstasy…and Furfur would give them only the most tantalizing finish. Dig into their body until Crowley could only remember the moment where the serpent had swallowed a stag, or where the deer had pierced the snake.

I love experimenting with this sort of style, and I think again, overall, my writing is so much stronger for having written this with two wonderful authors. I've got a few good lines cooking in some WIPs, but I feel like I'm getting lost in the sauce of this ask and all of my stacked WIPs, haha. So I'll save those good lines for when they're published.

Thanks for the ask!! :)

[sexyzuka]

A Fateful Encounter

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k+

Content: fem!reader, werewolf!reader, gore, blood, angst, mentions of death, a bit of findom, pet names

Summary: It's been nearly a decade now since the Fourth Great Ninja War. You and your tribe live just outside of Konoha's border, a coexistence spanning nearly a century, but one fueled by secrecy. Hardly anyone in Konoha knows the truth about you, and you'd like to keep it that way. Unfortunately, a member of your tribe has been mortally wounded. From past experiences you know that the only way to save them is to sneak into Konoha to get supplies, but what happens when your ruse to appear as a human is exposed?

Writer's Notes: Hey, so this is my first fanfic. I wanted to write down this scenario I had floating around in my head involving Boruto era Kiba Inuzuka and my werewolf OC. For the purpose of this fic, I turned her into the reader. I really want to rewrite this scenario from Kiba's point of view and have that as a sister-fic to this one. I also have at least one more part for this fic planned, so you can be on the lookout for that! When I write up the second part I'll be sure to link to it in the description. I hope you enjoy.

Red. Everything was red. The oppressive hues coupled with the noxious stench of mangled flesh was wafting through the stagnant air.

"Stay strong, please. I'll be back as soon as I can," you said gently as you held up a hand to the grimacing maw of your friend. You affectionately ran your nails through their fur while you reassured them, "I swear I won't let you die." Your eyes began to swell a bit, but you managed to maintain your composure by virtue of sheer willpower. You knew that unnecessary emotional outbursts wouldn't accomplish anything right now.

The only thing that can help in this situation is action. That's right, you can't just sit here forever.

"I need you to keep pressure on the wound," you barked while beckoning over a trembling youth. "Don't ease up even for a second, okay?"

"O-o-ok," their voice meekly whimpered.

You could see the hesitation in their eyes, but you knew there were no other options.

"I promise I won't be long. This is something only you can do right now. Please," you pleaded while pointing to your companion huddled on the ground, "just stay here with Kōtarō and I'll handle the rest."

You kneeled down as you rested your hand on the pup's shoulder. They gingerly lifted their head up to meet your gaze. A firm resolve resonating within you emanated from every cell in your being. The youngster, emboldened by the exchange, gave you a silent nod as they arduously walked over to Kōtarō.

After instructing them on where to apply pressure, you put on your hood and took off at a breakneck speed towards Konoha.

Your adrenaline gave you tunnel vision, all you could think of was saving your friend. In your haste you neglected to double-check all of your belongings before you left. You thought that your gear felt a bit lighter than usual, but you couldn't quite figure out why. The only thing that mattered to you right now was securing medicine for Kōtarō.

You suppressed a wave of uneasiness swelling up inside of you by reminding yourself of what was at stake. Even a single moment of hesitation could be the difference between life and death. You bring yourself back down to earth by biting down on your bottom lip hard. A few drops of blood ooze out and flitter in the wind as you continue on your journey.

As you closed in on the village you took a detour to the east. There was no way the guards would let you in normally, after all. Thankfully the Konoha ninken were cordial with your tribe so you rarely had any issue when you chose to use their special entrance.

Entrance… might not be the right word for it. Sure, it was used for egress when a rowdy hound wanted to escape the humdrum of everyday life. Since the war ended there have been fewer and fewer missions for ninken, but their drive to hunt and unleash their energy hasn't abated in the slightest. On occasion a ninken or two will even join your tribe when the moon is at its fullest and brightest, joyously scampering about while their human partners are none the wiser.

As you think back on the last full moon you see Kōtarō's face in your mind. He was so happy to have finally been able to lead the pack in their nightly run, his eyes glimmering with pure joy and excitement as the cool breeze delicately tousled his coat. The sinister touch of reality didn't let this daydream last long though as it tainted his visage, turning it from one of unbridled bliss to gut-wrenching agony.

The sordid apparitions your mind concocts shake you to your core. Your entire body involuntarily shivers as you stagger closer to a partially obscured hole in the ground next to the wall that surrounds Konoha. A sullen howl in the distance snaps you back to reality.

"I'm doing this for him," you reassure yourself.

With one swift motion you jump up a meter or two and by the time you've reached the ground your transformation is complete. You've gotten better at this over the years. At first the blistering pain used to radiate throughout your body, especially in your bones. But nowadays you can complete the sequence without so much as a second thought.

As soon as your paws touched the warm earth you deftly burrowed through the small hole in the ground, being sure to not disturb the surroundings on the other side of the wall. You were very familiar with the placement of the crates that lined the perimeter of Konoha. The wooden boxes, for being as mundane as they were, served a surprising number of purposes. They were the perfect hidden entranceway that moonlighted as a lycanthrope transformation room.

As quickly as before, your body was transfigured into that of a young adult. Your metamorphosis into a human was pretty convincing, but your pointed ears and vivacious tail were remnants of your true form that belied your façade. In your haste you neglected to tie back your ears and tuck your tail entirely into your clothes. The caramel brown strands of fur weren't fully visible, but a discerning eye from a curious stranger could prove to be a detriment.

You silently lifted the top of the crate open so you could peer outside. You scanned the area, making sure no one was nearby, before you furtively slipped out through a small opening. You dusted off the outside of your cloak before beginning the next leg of your journey.

You'd been to Konoha many times, so you knew the quickest way to get to your destination, a pet supplies store on the south side of town. It used to be so much harder to secure provisions and medications, but since the Fourth Great Ninja War there have been more chances for an outsider such as yourself to blend into the monotonous mass of visitors that now populate the streets. Most of these tourists are too engrossed in their own inflated sense of self to pay much mind to others, let alone a meek and unassuming young woman keeping to the shadows.

You have keen senses and a knack for erasing your presence, so the rest of this trip should be easy, you reassure yourself. The owner of the pet supplies store you frequent has come to know you well over the years, a tacit understanding facilitated by the exchange of this civilization's currency.

You often wonder how these rather dull and drab coins are useful in any way to humans. It's not as if you can eat the hunks of metal or use them as a vulnerary, on the contrary you have to be wary of the ones that contain trace amounts of silver lest they elicit a potent allergic reaction. Just thinking about the tarnished tender makes the hackles on the back of your neck radiate with trepidation.

If anything, those accursed coins are more of an affliction than an asset because you've seen many a human turn feral from their wicked grasp.

"And they have the nerve to call us monsters," you mumble to yourself in a muted tone as you approach the pet supplies store.

As you enter the store you're greeted with an astute, silent nod from the proprietor. After half a second of eye contact you return his nod and make your way to the back corner of the store. You're grateful that the old man who owns this joint has never once questioned your rather unusual appearance.

He's no doubt seen the amber strands of your fur that sometimes peek out under your cloak when you bend down to grab something on a bottom shelf. An unfortunately timed occasional sneeze here and there sometimes jostles your hood and misplaces it ever so slightly, but he chooses to keep silent even when faced with an disconcerting truth that would unnerve most normal humans.

"Hm, what does 'normal' even mean?" you ponder to yourself while mindlessly passing through the aisles.

You've been here enough times in the past to know where everything is, so all you have to do is just turn this corner and-

Before you could finish that thought you carelessly trip on a leash that's being pulled taut by a rugged man with a distracted look on his face. His expression changes from one of distracted consumerism to that of genuine concern.

As you stumble and fall towards the ground a robust arm with an impressive amount of strength grabs you around your waist right before you hit the ground. The man slowly pulls you back up, but you're too frazzled to give much of a reaction. Your hood slightly askew now, and one of your ears is poking out ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry, my bad." a voice rings out. "I was looking for a leash for our newest puppy and-," the words continue to hit your eardrums but you can't make much sense of them because your heart and mind begin racing at an astronomical pace. The only thing that you can hear is your own heartbeat clamoring in your ears. "…my sis is busy, so I'm on shopping duty… and Akamaru, oh that's my partner, he… and I can't believe Kōtarō hasn't given us a raise this year, something about inflation-"

"Kōtarō?" hearing that name snaps you back to reality.

"Yeah, you know him or something?" the man asks with a skeptical expression on his face.

A flood of images from earlier today dance through your mind, the vile spectres of your past beckoning you towards the edge of a cliff. The icy chill that ran down your spine was enough to unfurl the jumbled mess of thoughts that constricted your free will.

"Kōtarō," you repeated again.

"Uh miss, are you ok? Also, it looks like you might have a little dog fur stuck on your hood here let me-" as the man reached over to grab the tuft of fur that was attached to your ear, you jumped back a little.

"Thank you," you said as you quickly fixed your hood and straightened up your cloak, shaking off the dust with a newly ignited fervor.

"You're welcome? Listen, just now was that your-" before the man was able to finish his sentence you were already in the next aisle grabbing supplies. He turned around and followed you, but you couldn't make out what he was saying because your mind was consumed with one thought.

"I have to save him." The words kept repeating in your head over and over.

You dashed to the register while carrying a considerable amount of gauze, antibiotics, and medical tape. As you put your items on the counter the man came jogging from the aisle you were just in.

"Hey, wait. Stop ignoring me!" he exclaimed as you frantically searched for the bag of ryō that you always carry with you whenever you visit Konoha. When you reached down to your waist the only thing that you were greeted with was a sense of horror. The rope that usually holds up your pocket change was missing, and in its place was nothing but a sinking feeling of dread. It must have been severed during all of the commotion earlier in the forest.

"Put it on my tab," you feverishly whimpered while deftly snagging the items off of the counter before the proprietor could react.

As you sprinted out the door, the owner shook his head admonishingly as he glanced over at the man who had a countenance composed of equal parts intrigue and confusion.

"So, is a member of Konoha's Military Police Force seriously going to let a robbery happen right in front of him and not go after the thief?" the proprietor asked with a snarky expression on his face.

The man snapped out of his daze, a cheeky smile emerging amidst the lingering remnants of bemusement.

"No way. I'll make sure I catch up to her or my name's not Kiba Inuzuka," the man proudly barked while puffing out his chest and flexing his muscles.

"That's all well and fine, but I still need to pay for my next shipment of Azithromycin. That stuff's not cheap, you know! Since you're so sure of yourself, why don't you cover her tab for now and get her to pay you back?" The old man had a crooked, sinister smile on his face while he pointed at the number on the register.

"Yeah, sure. I know I'll get her to pay me back. I'm Kiba Inuzuka, after all. There's nothing I can't-" he did a double take as he read the exorbitant number listed on the register, "-excuse me, that medication cost HOW MUCH?" Unable to swallow his pride and admit he was wrong, Kiba grabbed his wallet and paid for the mysterious woman's tab.

"Thank you. Please come again," the proprietor's cheery voice resounded as the cash register ringed.

Kiba has a sullen look on his face as he put his wallet away. It looks like his clan's youngest ninken will have to wait another day for that new leash. He left the store with a heightened sense of determination. "Okay little princess, now where did you run off to? Don't think you can run away from my nose."

----- TO BE CONTINUED -----

PART TWO