#it feels like my past and the way it shaped me into this horrible creature keeps pulling me down a bottomless pit

[daz4i]

weirdest thing i get told is that I'm strong or resilient. girl i crumble into dust on a weekly basis. i only take the shape of a person the next day bc the wind blows me back into that. i do not want to be doing any of this

[inhuman-obey-me]

Congratulations on a well deserved 4000+!

If you don't mind can I request 😴 with belphie+ Mc?

Thank you so much!! ;//u//;

"Don't you worry about your bad dreams, 'cause I'm not in them." - Belphegor/MC

content warning: psychological horror, blood, implied body horror

It starts with a heavy pressure on your chest, as if some creature has crawled through the shadows to come and sit atop your heart. 

Then it spreads, an inky dread that slithers its way up to your throat and wraps itself around and around and around. And then it tightens.

Slowly. Suffocatingly. 

‘It’s horrible here, isn’t it?’

Another night, another cruel whisper in your head from a voice you don’t recognize. You can feel sharp claws sink into your flesh, and a haze takes over your mind. You try to fight it, but it only gets worse. 

‘Just open your eyes, you’ll see.’

And so you do, knowing what it is you will see. It’s been the same for the past two nights: a warped version of the House of Lamentation, blood seeping through cracks and running down the walls. A static seems to fill the air, further distorting anything you look at like some unsettling funhouse mirror. The room sways and rocks, but you try to step forward – only for your heel to be met with a loud crunch. With a gulp, you bring your gaze down to see what it is you stepped on.

It’s you. Whatever’s left of you, that is. 

‘You don’t belong here. It’s not safe.’

The voice gets louder, more insistent, more chilling. 

‘You should leave. Now.’

“The only one who should be leaving is you, Milalu.” 

In an instant, the haze dissipates and the horrors fade away to reveal a strange plane of clouds and stars, a comforting blanket of lavender and twilight embracing you. The scream that was stuck in your throat now turns into a near-sob of relief at the familiar voice. You turn to find him, and before a single thought can form you find yourself running straight into his arms. 

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, and you answer with a silent nod.

“Belphegoooor,” The raspy voice calls out, a dark cloud taking the rough shape of a demon before you. “We were just having some fun.”

“We? Do you really think I’m stupid?” Belphegor snarls, tightening his hold on you. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? You, idiotically waltzing into a dream under my roof? Threatening my human?” 

“I wasn’t threatening.” Milalu answers, their ghostly hands coming up as if to push the accusation away. “I was merely trying to be…influential.” 

“Influential my ass.” Belphegor gives you a squeeze before releasing you, now stepping towards the other demon. “What, trying to scare them away so they leave? You really think you’re that good? That you have any power over them?” 

“All humans are influenceable. It would be a bad dream for me if they weren’t.” Milalu turns to look at you, their sharp eyes trying to pierce your soul, but Belphegor quickly grabs them by the neck and lifts them into the air.

“Oh, don’t you worry about your bad dreams,” he hisses with vitriol, his own demon form shifting into something more frightening as his tail thrashes to and fro. “Because I’m not in them – but maybe that should change.” 

He pauses, then, and looks to you, a gentle command leaving his lips. 

“Close your eyes.”

So you do, a garbled scream from Milalu quickly deafened by warm wind that swirls around you and returns you to the comfort of your bed.

When you awaken, you find Belphegor watching you with a mix of affection and frustration. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I…I thought it would stop, eventually.” You lower your gaze, embarrassed that he had to see you in such a state. He sighs, cupping your face with one hand.  

“I know you’re strong, but you shouldn’t let anyone mess with you like that.” He sighs, a thumb brushing your cheek. “If something like that ever happens again, you need to tell me right away. Promise me that, starlight.” 

“...Okay. I promise.” You nod, moving closer to him in the bed and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“Thank you.”

[phightingconfessions]

here you go lmao

----

GOD banhammer is so fucking perfect, i've been staring at a picture of him in some way shape or form for probably like fifteen hours out of the last three days. he is just so very mwah i wanna bite his armor it looks so fucking cool bro. and his teeth, good LIRD his fucking teeth those chompers are driving me insane. i wanna put my hand in his mouth and i don't think i'd even be upset if he bit me for that, hell i want him to bite me. he could step on me too and pick me up and throw me down the stairs and i wouldn't even be mad. did i mention how fucking tall he is? mans is like 6 foot 11 inches, thats bonkers, he could punt me into the sun and i'd let him. his hands are probably huge as fuck too. i want him to hold me but i'd settle for being manhandled into a jail cell. he probably patrols the cells on occasion since he's just built different and i'd stand in my 'pathetic homosexual loser' cage and give him a gay little wave as he walks past. blow him a kiss and all that. he might not even notice because he's blindfolded which would be saddening but hey maybe i'll get to feel his touch when he drags me off to be executed or whatever. does he even execute his prisoners at all? if he doesn't i guess i will just rot in that cell until he sees fit to release me. bummer. or perhaps i could seduce him into letting me work as an assistant/maid/etc for him instead. he seems like he'd get off on having someone to order around directly, and i wouldn't mind obeying his every command. anyways as much as i'd enjoy letting him order me around it would probably get boring eventually. he'd probably melt immediately if i gave off even a whiff of dominance. mans still listens to his mom for fucks sake, he'll fold like a wet napkin if i yank him down to his knees and grab his chin. that might be tough with the size difference though. i could back him into a corner and grab his horns and pull his face down to mine and then kiss him or whisper to him or whatever. fuck yeah. not to mention he's blindfolded too, so i could mess around with that. he'd probably be kinda mouthy about it, especially if we have a significant strength difference, but he'd like it. putting a hand in his mouth would probably shut him up. god the thought of running my hand along his teeth is just so fucking enthralling. they look kinda similar to shark teeth. built to maul people and yet here i am touching them like the most foolish creature upon god's green earth. cough this is getting a little too immersive whoops fuck uhhh right! his armor. the gems everywhere is attractive. shiny objects are so cool and banhammer has a gem on like every section of his armor. they probably make cuddling a tiny bit uncomfortable but that's par for the course with armor. i'd put up with it. his weapon looks sick as hell too but i am not a weapons connoisseur, i am a men connoisseur. and this one is delicious cough right his armor. his boots look pretty tough. they probably have treads that'd leave a good mark if he stepped on my back. that'd be cool. i'd let him dig his heel into me with great force. god at this point i dont even wanna fuck him i just want to either destroy or be destroyed by this man. good fucking god why did i write so much. *checks wiki* right he has four eyes. assuming they look like his mom's do it'd probably be pretty cute. two little extra ones beside his normal eyes. he probably winks by closing half his eyes. and now i'm thinking of various seductive faces he could make. i am down so bad i can't even. i wanna kiss him choke him slam him into a wall. or have him do that to me. i'm not picky. one of us is gonna be pathetic, obedient, and submissive and i frankly do not give a fuck which one it ends up being. i'd let him put a collar on me. the thought of banhammer wearing a collar is making my brain do terrible horrible things so i will leave it at that. i do draw the line at like 'daddy' shit tho that's not for me at all & he probably has daddy issues anyway

I've read this like 5 times and I have determined. I will post it.

behold: the banhammer manifesto. I don't think it gets crazier than this I think we've reached craziest post about ban on this blog. well done everyone! I'm going to go cry now bye forever /j

[tiny-talks-big-tales]

👩🏼‍🦼I got the new wheelchair👩🏼‍🦼‍➡️

This creature has WHEELS!!! And it's super hype :D

Today there's been like... about a couple dozen people awaiting updates on how it went, which is really sweet <3 You're all getting this post thrown at you though, I love you but I also like my sanity and the health of my wrists too much to type the same things twenty times.

✿

Delivery went well, and there are some small changes scheduled for Thursday

We spent about 2 hours with the supplier's tech doing final adjustments and such. It was really fun to feel how all the iterative changes on the chair are coming together! It was immediately comfier than any of my past chairs ever were, despite how much worse my mobility is now than back then.

It's wonderful how much having a proper team setting up the chair through actual physical in-person fittings helps. Multiple fittings, even - we're at 3 fitting sessions so far, Thursday will be the 4th. I think after thursday I will be good for a while.

The chair is here now, parked in the living room! I can see it from my bed, even. I can use it, but won't do any proper adventure attempts until after Thursday.

On Thursday we'll be sorting out:

The table with centered joystick. It's currently with the tech as he has to cut it to shape a bit and need workshop tools to do so. I wanted it to be smaller so I'm getting it smaller.

Adding minor hardware (aka metal bits and bobs used to attach extra parts) for some extra adjustment range on the lateral leg supports (aka padded blocks set against the side of my legs to help keep them in place).

Putting some foam wedges at the top of the backrest to make sure my shoulders and upper back have support all the way up.

The table makes a huge difference to me so I'm excited to get it back in its final form! ...almost final. I'll be adding stickers to it.

✿

Actually sitting in and using the chair, and getting to control my own mobility again

I sat in the chair for the fitting, then we went outside and I got to drive around the road we live on a bit, and we tested how going in and out through our pretty narrow entrance works for me. After the tech and the other guys on this case left, me and Ceora (my partner) went inside and I just stayed in the chair for a bit. I greatly enjoyed the ability to just enter the kitchen and stare blankly at the fridge before deciding I don't want anything anyway.

So overall I probably spent about 4 hours in the chair! And aside from very very cold feet I was okay, but that was just an underdressing problem. (3 layers of socks wasn't enough, apparently)

Most importantly I went up and down the road just outside and got to see and smell TREES and GRASS ohmygodhjdkahgdjklag!!! Controlling my own mobility again was euphoric 😭

For the past 10 months I've had no control of my own mobility, I've just been... trapped in place, completely unable to leave the spot I'm in. It messes with the mind and relation to my body quite a bit. So I hope and believe my big ol noggin will also benefit :D I'll still spend majority of my time in bed, and I can't transfer between bed and wheelchair on my own, but finally having the chance to regularly get up and in control of my mobility is huge.

✿

Oh, and it has a name!

I have named this wheelchair Katla.

The old powerchair was named Tekla, and my first chair, a manual self-propelled one, was named Petra.

So there's a strong theme here, hihi.

✿

Here's some photos!

Here's the two driving controls! In my table there's the joystick for me, it has a literal golf ball for me to grab. On the back of the chair there's an attendant control that people helping me can use when needed. It's that handle on the right. Supposedly very intuitive to use, you just move the whole handle side to side to turn, squeeze the small lever underneath to go forward, and push down the small lever to go backwards.

And here's the utility bondage! That's a horribly inappropriate term, but it's my term, and I am horribly inappropriate at times, so it's ok. The ankle cuffs are to prevent my feet from falling off the footplates or going too far out of place. The part around the ankle attaches to the footplate with two somewhat loose straps, so this does NOT interfere with happy feet wiggles :3

The seat has a hip belt for like. Hip position? Also to prevent sliding down. It's pretty standard. The chest harness thing is an X-shaped chest harness with 4 point attachments. It's honestly amazing how big of a difference it makes in keeping me stable, less wobbly, and feeling safer. And the backrest is very curved to give me stability all over my upper body.

And these are side supports! There's a pair by my thighs, a pair by my knees, and a pair by my elbows. The leg ones stop my legs from wibblywobbly and splooting in bad painful and injury-causing ways. The ones by my elbows stop my arms from falling off the armrest, which was a huge problem on my previous chair.

After thursday I'll try to get some photos outside :D And it'll be a slow journey to work up to using the chair as much as I want, to be able to do some more of the things I'd like to do.

Thank you for reading and caring 💜

[astarionsilverbough]

AHH! Another place to gush about your work! Stupendous! Wonderful! So excited for more 🙌

I live for the softness ❤️ a glutton for the sweetness of their relationship.

Things I like thinking about include

Hair care: Astarion not being able to see himself and Halsin’s braids so they can take care of each other hair which is such a soft bonding activity which can also lead to a gentle bathing and washing together. Also scar hurt/comfort???

Halsin & animals playing with baby ducks and other baby animals. Imagine Halsin gently placing a small chick in Astarion’s hands to hold 😭

Wild shape shenanigans: Astarion’s feet hurting or just for fun using Halsin as his steed and general wildshape cuddling ❤️

Astarion having a hoard of little wooden creatures Halsin whittled. Also if Halsin had a hidden talent for drawing it would also be soft and angsty because Astarion can’t see himself, but now he can at least see how Halsin sees him.

Okay so firstly thank you so much my dear 😭💕 secondly, thank you specifically for this ask because my GOD it is so soft but nothing gets to me like braiding a lover’s hair/scar care like NOTHING does so I’m now just thinking about -

“Hold still, darling, it’s the last one.” A pause, and then - a mockingly scandalized gasp. “Halsin! Keep those hands to yourself, if you please! This is delicate work.”

It’s no use. They’re already everywhere, those clever, keeping hands; it’s Astarion’s fault, really. He’s naked and hovering over the larger elf’s very inviting lap, which also happens to be conveniently barren of clothing.

And he can’t be distracted - the customary braids in Halsin’s hair are best done when the elf’s mahogany locks are just damp enough.

“You always save that one for last,” Halsin burrs against Astarion’s chest, big hands cupping his ass.

The tips of Astarion’s ears go pink. “Nonsense.”

Halsin tips back and gives him a knowing smirk. “Is it because it’s the mating braid?”

He says it in elvish - low, and smug. Astarion reacts all over.

“You’re dreadful,” the vampire says, “absolutely horrible. Accusing me of sentiment? I know I have a tadpole in my head but - Halsin!”

Somehow he manages to pinch the bottom of the last braid and hold it aloft as his absolute beast of a lover rolls him into the sheets with a gusting laugh.

And, later - much later, after they’ve gotten filthy again and after Astarion finally finishes that damn braid - Halsin gets Astarion spread out on the sheets and slowly, gently massages the sigils carved into the landscape of Astarion’s spine.

Rosemary oil slicks Halsin’s way as the elf - looming over Astarion now with a thigh on either side of Astarion’s narrow hips - runs expert hands up and down the length of his back, thumbs pushing in all the write spots to loosen the tension he unknowingly carries in the places around the tattoo.

“It feels different,” Astarion says quietly. When he speaks, he speaks in elvish. Halsin’s hands pause; Astarion rarely speaks in elvish.

“What does? Are you in any pain?”

He says it evenly - measured and calm. An oath-bearing warrior he may be now, he will always be a Druid at heart.

Astarion smiles faintly against his own upper arm. They’re folded under his head, keeping it pillowed as Astarion watches Halsin’s reflection in the sliver of mirror just past the archway leading into their bathing chamber.

“No, darling,” he hums, “not anymore. It… feels different. The mark. Like you’ve gone and purged whatever evil was still lurking inside it. My own personal shadow curse - and you’re the light that drove it out.”

There’s a beat of silence. Astarion expects it, of course he does, but it still renders him breathless when Halsin bows over him and kisses slow and lingering down the exposed side of his face. Shifting, Astarion presses up and back against the larger elf, reveling in the strength of him, the heat of him.

“Evil could never dwell in this body,” Halsin murmurs in aching tones against Astarion’s ear, “for the sunlight of your soul would cast it out. You have only ever been made of light, dawnstar. No darkness could snuff that out.”

He expects it, most of the time - when Halsin utters some absolutely heart-shattering epitaph dedicated to their love or Astarion in general - but this time, Astarion’s moved to genuine tears. Call it the vulnerability after sex, the boneless exhaustion of a good massage, whatever.

Really, it’s just Halsin. And it will always be just Halsin, won’t it, he thinks, turning his head to catch the larger elf in a kiss as his fingers find the mating braid in his thick hair.

A thrill runs through him.

It feels like sunlight.

[insidethekaleidoscope]

"Despair 2.0" sounds both hilarious and heartrending, so I'd love to hear more about that!

And I'd love to hear anything you want to share about your original work.

Despair 2.0 is the follow-up to my Lockwood and Flo friendship fic, Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. It's set right after Lockwood gets Portland Row back. Flo has left agency work, and the two of them are navigating their paths diverging. They are both worried about each other and figuring out how to trust each other to find their own ways.

Here's a little snippet:

His eyes were on her, waiting expectantly, but she turned away. She couldn’t stand another second looking at that infuriating, worried quirk of his eyebrows. She’d spent years looking out for him. She’d been protective, and he’d let her. Now that all felt flipped upside down, like they’d lost track of who was supposed to be leading. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were both horribly turned around, but unlike her, Lockwood didn’t know that he was lost. “At least take the key, ok?” he said, his hand still outstretched.

I just answered another ask with the synopsis for my original piece, so here's a snippet :)

The creature stood slowly, revealing a vaguely humanoid shape. It was too dark to make out a face, but it wouldn’t have mattered much because Alice was entirely transfixed by the shifting texture of the creature’s body. At first it appeared insubstantial like dark wisps of curling smoke, then masses of long waving fur, then silky black feathers, then blackened bone obscured by swarms of tiny gnat-like insects. Each shift happened imperceptibly. No matter how hard she concentrated, Alice couldn’t catch the moment of change. It was as if her mind couldn’t hold the memory. It slipped straight from one perception to the next, the last image disappearing with barely a trace, like water seeping into soil. It left her with the constant sensation of having been mistaken. She blinked, trying to clear her eyes, feeling slightly nauseous.  Rabbits coursed through the underbrush, rushing past the creature's feet, or perhaps appearing from its footsteps. Their sleek dark bodies slipped in and out of view as they moved through the bushes. Alice could hear their tiny footfalls and the rustling of leaves and twigs all around her. Their eyes glittered, startled wide in the moonlight.  To her surprise Alice wasn’t scared. Perhaps it was the compounding dreamlike strangeness of the scene or her hope and relief at having found her way back to the woods, but in that moment all she felt was a calm curiosity. 

[soggymentos65]

GOD banhammer is so fucking perfect, i've been staring at a picture of him in some way shape or form for probably like fifteen hours out of the last three days. he is just so very mwah i wanna bite his armor it looks so fucking cool bro. and his teeth, good LIRD his fucking teeth those chompers are driving me insane. i wanna put my hand in his mouth and i don't think i'd even be upset if he bit me for that, hell i want him to bite me. he could step on me too and pick me up and throw me down the stairs and i wouldn't even be mad. did i mention how fucking tall he is? mans is like 6 foot 11 inches, thats bonkers, he could punt me into the sun and i'd let him. his hands are probably huge as fuck too. i want him to hold me but i'd settle for being manhandled into a jail cell. he probably patrols the cells on occasion since he's just built different and i'd stand in my 'pathetic homosexual loser' cage and give him a gay little wave as he walks past. blow him a kiss and all that. he might not even notice because he's blindfolded which would be saddening but hey maybe i'll get to feel his touch when he drags me off to be executed or whatever. does he even execute his prisoners at all? if he doesn't i guess i will just rot in that cell until he sees fit to release me. bummer. or perhaps i could seduce him into letting me work as an assistant/maid/etc for him instead. he seems like he'd get off on having someone to order around directly, and i wouldn't mind obeying his every command. anyways as much as i'd enjoy letting him order me around it would probably get boring eventually. he'd probably melt immediately if i gave off even a whiff of dominance. mans still listens to his mom for fucks sake, he'll fold like a wet napkin if i yank him down to his knees and grab his chin. that might be tough with the size difference though. i could back him into a corner and grab his horns and pull his face down to mine and then kiss him or whisper to him or whatever. fuck yeah. not to mention he's blindfolded too, so i could mess around with that. he'd probably be kinda mouthy about it, especially if we have a significant strength difference, but he'd like it. putting a hand in his mouth would probably shut him up. god the thought of running my hand along his teeth is just so fucking enthralling. they look kinda similar to shark teeth. built to maul people and yet here i am touching them like the most foolish creature upon god's green earth. cough this is getting a little too immersive whoops fuck uhhh right! his armor. the gems everywhere is attractive. shiny objects are so cool and banhammer has a gem on like every section of his armor. they probably make cuddling a tiny bit uncomfortable but that's par for the course with armor. i'd put up with it. his weapon looks sick as hell too but i am not a weapons connoisseur, i am a men connoisseur. and this one is delicious cough right his armor. his boots look pretty tough. they probably have treads that'd leave a good mark if he stepped on my back. that'd be cool. i'd let him dig his heel into me with great force. god at this point i dont even wanna fuck him i just want to either destroy or be destroyed by this man. good fucking god why did i write so much. checks wiki right he has four eyes. assuming they look like his mom's do it'd probably be pretty cute. two little extra ones beside his normal eyes. he probably winks by closing half his eyes. and now i'm thinking of various seductive faces he could make. i am down so bad i can't even. i wanna kiss him choke him slam him into a wall. or have him do that to me. i'm not picky. one of us is gonna be pathetic, obedient, and submissive and i frankly do not give a fuck which one it ends up being. i'd let him put a collar on me. the thought of banhammer wearing a collar is making my brain do terrible horrible things so i will leave it at that. i do draw the line at like 'daddy' shit tho that's not for me at all & he probably has daddy issues anyway

[butterflies-and-blades]

Session 3: Job 2/3

After taking some time to gather ourselves after fighting the gnoll camp, we started walking back to Legen. The sun began to set during the trip, and with the darkness, the persistent heat of the desert shifted to a clinging chill. For a while at least. With a bit more time, the cold was replaced by a surge of heat far more uncomfortable than anything we had felt during the day. The air was unbearably hot, but for some reason it did not extend to the sand--which I had expected to start burning against the bottoms of my feet but never did.

Instead, we were quickly approached by a flaming form. It was more blob-like in shape than humanoid and quickly took to setting Verca and I ablaze with its attacks. Kaemon was not very happy about how long I tried to push past the issue of being on fire before taking the time to put them out. I will admit that it was not my first priority initially. But in my defense, I was also distracted by Verca when the fight first started; as he prepared to fight the fire blob, flames seemed to wrap around him, completely separate from those of the creature. These flames were a bright blue that provided a stark contrast against its more typical red. When met by the path of the blue flames, his armor disappeared and his spear seemed to completely change. Later, when the creature attacked him, fiery feathers of that same blue appeared over his person as if to protect him.

Verca seems to carry surprises the way a collector carries the items of their obsession. Talking to him sometimes even feels like I have held conversations with two completely different people. Back in town, while we were getting ready to go to bed for the night, we had a rather pleasant conversation about the flowers around the cabin and how I liked to garden with Dad. He said something about how it made sense that I would like to garden. I was not quite sure what he meant, but it felt like a compliment nonetheless. There is a comfort in fostering life in the gentle cradle of soft soil.

After hearing about Dad's hard work gardening around the property, Verca expressed interest in visiting the cabin. So used to rocks and other harsh environments, he has little experience with flowers and wishes to see them. I'm not sure I am ready to return, though. I can't imagine what Dad would say; it might depend on if Da is home or not, honestly. I am not sure I would know how to take us there, anyways.

During the entire interaction, Verca seemed so different than the battle-crazed man I had recently fought beside.

Near the end of our conversation, Talo's thoughts in my head became too much for me to think through. When I tried to reach out to them through the open connection, I think I startled them, because we heard a noise from the sound of their room. I rushed over to make sure they were okay--luckily they were, albeit a bit embarrassed about the open link--and Verca joined shortly after via an unexpected teleportation into the center of the room. Even he seemed relatively surprised by that one. Like I wrote earlier: Verca and surprises come hand in hand.

During the night, I had a strange dream. I suppose nothing particularly odd happened during it--the contents were limited to flashes of a few images--, but it felt different than any dream I've had before. Images of broken glass, then blood, then golden feathers. All as if I was laying on my back looking up. I wasn't able to make out much else from them.

Verca and Talo have mentioned that when I black out, I am accompanied by the image of golden wings and a matching mask. I am starting to worry that I may have had more episodes than the two that they have told me about. I am scared that I may have done something horrible to someone and that I can't remember it.

After waking up, and while Verca was out of our room, I decided to ask Kaemon what he experiences when I black out. He said he also loses time, but at the very least it feels like home to him--not the cabin but the nest he fell out of when I first found him, he said.

When we gathered back up as a group, Talo expressed hearing the sound of trees rustling in the wind during the night, despite there being no trees in Legen as far as anyone of us knew. Verca also had a weird dream--something about fire and a big bird. At that point I decided to share my concerns about my dream, which led to Talo sharing their theory that I am possessed (as well as Verca because of the enjoyment he took at fighting the gnolls). That certainly did not help my fears about having done something during an unknown episode. They do not think the Mask is malicious, but I do not feel like I can be so confident. Their assurance that I am a good person was very kind and appreciated, though.

The conversation also revealed that Talo apparently does not dream. That was very difficult to wrap my head around.

Once we collected the reward for our first job from City Hall--seventy-five gold that was promptly added to the Bag of Holding--, we set out to manage the bulette. The walk there was uneventful, and the bulette itself was simply a baby that appeared to have gotten lost from its pack. Verca drew it out of the sand, commented that "They'll fucking kill you," pet the bulette, and talked to it in a language neither Talo nor I understood. Then the bulette left without any fuss. It was a fascinating process to watch. His interaction with the baby was gentle compared to his blood thirst yesterday. Verca seemed a tad embarrassed that that was not something considered "normal" above ground, though.

When asked about the difference between the bulette and the gnolls, given that there was a reasonable chance that both had hurt people--hence the jobs existing in the first place--, the separation seemed to come down to intention. He explained that if the baby hurt anyone, it was because it was scared and trying to defend itself; in contrast, he said that the gnolls were more intelligent and that their harm would have been based in malicious intensions. While I still feel torn about how yesterday played out, I did appreciate being allowed this insight into his thought process.

Since the bulette was handled so quickly, we decided to search for the bandits instead of going straight back to the city. During the walk, we found ourselves surrounded by fifteen jackals, which we handled without much issue. Afterwards, a woman came rushing over the nearby hill of sand, thanking us for our help and saying that their caravan had been accosted. But when she grabbed onto Verca, something seemed to hurt him before her body shifted into a lion-centaur-like form. It was a harder fight than the jackles--she nearly clawed through my abdomen, which Verca was able to heal rather quickly--, but we managed. We are currently stopped to rest before we continue on to the bandits.

Hopefully our goal to talk them down works.

[nataywrites]

A plea for the plight of the world.

Hello there, friend! I hope your day is a beautiful one. Here, the sunshine dapples the leaves of the trees and casts shadows on the grass and pavement. It is not yet time for the evening birdsong, but I can hear them occasionally chirping about two-legged intruders moseying around on their territory.

Have you ever thought about the effect we have on our environment? The effect that we have on our furry, feathery, scaly, exoskeleton-bearing, and mucus-encased neighbors? There hasn't been a day that I haven't thought about the climate and our encroachment on animals' homes. Every night there are deer in our neighborhood. Bees and other insects make their homes inside the bricks and wood of our tenement. Birds make precariously placed nests in the eaves and on the lanterns.

I recall a documentary made about the foxes that have made their dens in the backyards of suburban Madison homes. Fox Tales | About | Nature | PBS There was another documentary on bears. It said that the Black Bear, one of the nine species of bear in the world, is the only thriving species. Bear Essentials of Hibernation | NOVA | PBS

The year before last, our family went on a little road trip to Hayward, a town known for Rock Fest, Northwoods camping, and fishing. The main street is bedecked with seasonal restaurants and t-shirt shops. We traveled there to meet with friends and then go foraging in the beautiful forests surrounding the town.

On the way home, I saw a dead bear cub on the side of the highway. The wife and kids were dozing in their seats. Just me and that bear cub, bleeding on the gravelly shoulder, were party to the stars and the bright moon in the sky. I silently mourned that little bear for miles after I had passed it. I still do. I mourn the raccoon I saw on the road today and the deer I passed by last week.

I remember seeing a meme on Facebook about a woman that made funerary art for the dead animals she found while out driving. She placed rocks, flowers, and twigs around them in beautiful halos and also strategically on their bodies to hide the horrible wounds that the poor creatures endured in their last moments. Sometimes I want to do that too, but not for notoriety. It's my apology for being a human. For the part I play in the extortion of our planet, whether or not I had known about my complicity in the past.

I am still complicit, even though I do my best. I limit driving as best I can (I live in a rural community, so many things, like affordable groceries, therapists, and specialists, are in neighboring towns.) I don't use the air conditioner until it is truly needed and avoid wasting water. Whenever we go to visit forests and parks, we try to leave them in better shape than we found them. I challenge my kids to pick up as many pieces of trash as they can on our walks. We put them in a bag and drop them in the bin when we get home.

This isn't a hard and fast cry for change. The situation is too complicated for that. I just ask that we, as humans, think about the changes we are making. Our fellow animals do not have the capability of speech, but they feel. They react to our encroachment on their homes. This is a plea for compassion and understanding. I ask that you, my dear friend keep your mind open. In my heart, I believe we can make a change. I believe we can mitigate some of the damage we are doing. By making a change for ourselves, we are modeling that behavior to others. Step-by-step, person-by-person, we are making a healthier, happier world.

With Love,

Natay

[fan-burns]

Robots 2

Chapter 10: Rodney’s POV (2:34 am, TW for body horror, implied past self harm, and trippy dream)

I found myself floating in a dark void again, my feet swaying in an invisible wind. There wasn’t any ground or walls around me, but it didn’t matter anyways. It never did. Mist surrounded me, and the sound of chains being dragged across an invisible floor had made themselves known. As I looked towards the sound, two glowing blue orbs had pierced through the mist, and began to grow bigger as they approached me.

I’d been here before, and if anything I was more annoyed than scared by the sight of…well, it.

The thing had made its presence known as it creeped out of the mist. It looked just like me, but it had that hideous copper blue coloring on it and was missing its upgrades. It was missing its forearm pieces as well, which exposed the wires and a damaged endoskeleton underneath. As it got closer, the countless other scars and dents in its body had decided to show their ugly selves as well. By far the worst injury on its body was the crippled, lifeless legs that dangled underneath it, rendered useless as both legs and as scrap. They were barely attached to its body, and were slightly transparent at its feet.

There was another horrible scar that dominated the rest of them however…and that was the gapping, heart shaped hole in its chest. It was large enough to expose the ghostly endoskeleton within its chest, which also had its own series of scars and scratches. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was attacked by a bear, or was dragged underneath a Sweeper and lived to tell the tale.

Of course, I do know better…and I know what it really is.

“Welcome back, Rodney,” the thing spoke in a mangled version of my voice. Just hearing it alone would’ve been enough to cause pain to those unfortunate to hear it. Regardless of its mangled voice box, it went on unhindered in a teasing manner. “I take it you're still brainwashed? Or maybe you’ve finally figured out what's going on?”

“Yeah yeah, I figured it out weeks ago,” I snarled at it, “I’m stuck in a dream with you again. Why can’t you just leave me alone?!”

“Because,” it spoke through jagged, ruined teeth, “You’re being controlled by someone else. This isn’t you! I’m trying to help you!” 

“Help me?! I don’t need your help! I’m perfectly fine!!”

How dare this…whatever this thing is, tell me that something is wrong! This is obviously some kind of mind trick from Bigweld! Well TOO BAD MR. BIGBAD, I’M NOT FALLING FOR IT!

“You know I can hear what you're thinking, right?” The creature spoke with a dark chuckle, “Is Big Mr. Bigbad really the best you can come up with?”

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

“I can’t.” it argued with a laugh, “I’m literally YOU. The real, not brainwashed YOU. And I need you to remember that!”

With a wave of its clawed and scarred hand, the mist had retreated, and in its place two chairs had appeared. The joints of the thing in front of me creaked and groaned as it took a seat, and gestured for me to take a seat next to it. As it gestured to the chair, I saw the hideous series of scars that decorated its wrists. The scars were caked in a foul smelling oil.

Reluctantly, I did as it wanted. I’ve done this before over and over again, and it always ends the same way. Still, it never gets any better…and I’ll never get used to it. 

“So what’s this about a “Citizenship Test”?” It asked. “What’s the deal with that?”

“It’s to keep everyone safe from things like you.” I pointed at it. “Take the test and keep your head clear from anything that Bigweld tries to tell you.”

“Oh, so it isn’t a huge red flag then?” It spoke sarcastically.

“Well if you know so much about it,” I argued back. “then enlighten me.” 

“Well let’s look at the obvious,” it began. “It’s biased in Ratchet’s favor and the multiple choices don’t properly reflect how someone might feel. That, and multiple choice questions can’t properly reflect a person’s feelings. You need an open answer for that.”

I felt my head tilt in confusion. Normally I’d ignore the creature's words but I couldn’t help but be curious as to where it was going with this. Even if I knew it was wrong. 

Seeing this, it went on. “You know how the first question is literally worded in a way that forces you to say yes no matter what? Or the last two questions? That's what I’m talking about.”

“So? Everyone should be happy with their purpose! And they should know that Bigweld’s the bad guy!”

“And if they’re not?” The thing argued.

“Then they’re worthless! If they don’t want to fulfill their purpose then we have no use for them!”

The creature stared at me as I spoke the truth. Its face was pained by what I had said, and its pale, glossy eyes were filled with disgust and sorrow. It brought its crippled hand to its head and cradled it in disappointment. As it rubbed its jagged fingers across its brow I felt a great relief wash over me. To see this creature, this attempt at replicating me, failing to do the one thing it was designed to do was beyond satisfaction. I assumed it was about to give up, but it regained its composure and turned its gaze towards me.

“I know you don’t understand a word you just said so I’m just going to skip to the point,” it said with great sadness and frustration. “You’re not happy with your ‘purpose.’”

“Of course I am!”

“No, you’re not. When you were asked to pick an alternative purpose, you picked Ratchet Industries, remember? You want to be an inventor for him. You want a better job.”

I hated to agree with it, but it was right…but everyone wants to work for Ratchet! I want to help design new upgrades because it aligns best with what my original purpose is! 

“So you admit it then?” the creature inquired as it heard what I was thinking. “You want a better job because you're unhappy with the one you have.”

I didn’t say anything. I held my breath as the creature went on. 

“Rodney, you know you're better than this. You’re capable of doing so much more than car repairs and tune ups. You can create things, inspire change, make people's lives better! Hell, you were even able to change the entire city!”

I didn’t believe what it was saying. I stopped listening to it.

“You’ve saved and improved so many lives because you trusted your instincts. You’ve helped so many people! You’ve made so many friends, met your idol, You even met the love of your life!”

I didn’t say anything. I kept my head clear of any thoughts.

“Rodney, listen to yourself!” It begged me, practically screaming at me. “What’s more important than any of that?!”

“My service to Ratchet.” I told it bluntly. “That’s more important than any fantasy world you can come up with!”

It stood up rapidly in anger. Its voice became low and dangerous in tone, but its face expressed dread and disgust. “So you’d sacrifice everything you’ve ever stood for, everything that makes you happy and enjoy life, just to keep Ratchet happy? Even after what he did?!”

It stared at me as I stood my ground, its tears running down the side of its face. It didn’t matter what it told me, or what it promised me, or anything else that it was trying to tell me. I knew it was just some trick to get me away from Ratchet! If I fall for that, then I’m a goner!

“I’d do that, and more, in a heartbeat.” I proclaimed. “If I’m going to be a mechanic for the rest of my life, then so be it! I’d rather be some low life mechanic than something to the likes of you!”

“Enough already!” The creature yelled in frustration as it threw its hands up, the pain in its voice nearly making me sick. 

The void began to fill with more fog, and it quickly swept around me, making it harder to see what was in front of me. I brought my hands up to try to swipe the fog away from my face, but to no avail. Clawing my way through the fog, I was able to catch one last glance at the creature. It had turned its back on me and disappeared into the fog. Its voice fading as the fog engulfed it, making it near impossible to make out what it said. 

Before I could do anything else, the fog had begun to circle around me. It slowly lifted me off of the ground, and I started to kick at the smoke and fog to make it release me, but it wouldn’t budge. As it took me higher and higher, I felt something warm shine on my head. 

I looked up and was nearly blinded by the sudden light that had appeared overhead. The fog around me began to disappear as it got closer to the light. Slowly, bit by bit, the column of smoke and fog had disappeared. I felt myself become weightless, but I felt myself begin to fall. 

My limbs flailed around as I tried to grab something to stop my fall, to grab onto something that could save me but it was useless. All I could do was close my eyes and pray that it would be quick, that the fall wouldn’t leave me half dead on the ground…

THUD!

My eyes shot wide open as I realized what had happened. I rubbed the back of my head as I slowly got up from the ground and back onto my bed. I felt the warmth of fresh tears on my face as I sat on the bed.

Another nightmare with that thing. 

I checked the clock on my dresser to see what time it was. As I expected, it was around two am. It always happens. I fall asleep, I meet that thing, and then I wake up. 

Every. Damned. Time.

My whole body had suddenly grown heavy. I let gravity push me back into the bed, but I didn’t close my eyes. I didn’t want to go back to sleep… not after that nightmare. Maybe I can do something else to pass the time. I could scroll online, look at the new upgrades that Ratchet is making. I could look at ideas for improving business. Maybe I can sort through my tools and reorganize everything…again. For the fifteenth time. Maybe I can look through my phone for something to-

Wait! No not that! Anything but that!

I nearly bolted out of the bed when I thought about that phone. That thing’s phone is still in the dresser beside my bed. 

Ratchet had advised me to get rid of it, but I couldn’t bring myself to destroy it. I tried to destroy it, I really did, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t force myself to get rid of it. I was too attached to it. It must’ve been yet another trick from Bigweld. 

Well the joke was on that thing in the end. If I can't destroy it, I’ll just lock it away! I threw it into the dresser, fitted a lock onto it, and once it was installed I locked it and destroyed the key.

I let my body fall back onto the bed with a slight thud. I turned my head towards the dresser in question, a permanent reminder of my failure to get rid of my final tie to Bigweld and Cappy. The chain surrounding the dresser was still intact and secure, the lock pad pulling the chain close to the floor, but never touching it. 

I’m safe. I could be a lot safer if I had the strength to destroy the damned thing, but I’m still safe. He can’t get me. She can’t get me. That thing can’t get me. No one can get me. 

I turned my head to face the ceiling. I’ve decided that I’m not going back to sleep…I can’t risk running into that thing again. I’ll only close my eyes to let them rest, but I’ll keep myself awake. As I close them I move my foot in small, gentle circles. 

I can feel a warm liquid form under my eyes, and a tear falls off of the side of my face. My jaw clenches itself shut as I put my hands over my face, trying to keep myself from crying even further. A small gasp for air escapes my mouth despite my efforts, and more tears race across my cheeks. 

…it’s going to be another long night for me. I don’t need any more tears or nightmares to tell me that much.

[serephinastardust]

I hope this doesn't disturb anyone: Elystrias' (villain) chapter

This has lots of potential, but 1st draft of this chapter. Hope you all like Elystria's first dabble with forbidden magic and trying to keep her eyes on the prize, between flash backs to her mother and with whisperings of her doubt and the dark magic whipsering promises help, will she see herself become a villain before its too late?

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

As I enter the [insert library of magic name] I glance again at my reflection in the window.I am now back in my normal appearance, with my wardrobe growing to a darker color. I straightened out my hair and pulled it up, and now I’m wearing a black and red corset top, and jean shorts, with some black boots.

If the old me were to see me now. I chuckle to myself as I make way to the ancient texts of the library. Fortunately, no one stopped me, not that I saw anyone. And if it were up to me, I would keep it that way, but I knew the universe would again betray me, so I tried to not to horribly jinx my situation.

I was on a mission. And this was my first stop of many. My footsteps echoed on the polished marble floor as I ventured deeper into the heart of the library. The shelves, stretching infinitely high, were laden with tomes that held the wisdom of ages past. The air was thick with thick with the scent of aged parchment and arcane secrets. I breathed deeply at this scent. It was like a mother’s embrace, welcoming me home. A memory bubbled up unbidden at this feeling.

I was just a child, my eyes wide with wonder as I stood in my family’s library. It was massive, and I had full access to it. My mother, a woman of wisdom and kindness, knelt beside me, her gentle fingers tracing the spines of the ancient tomes. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, casting a warm, golden hue upon the shelves lined with books of all shapes and sizes.

“Books are not just words on pages, my little star,” She had said, her voice soft like a lullaby. “They hold the stories of the world, the knowledge of ages past. Every page turned is a journey taken, an adventure embarked upon.”

I remembered how she had pulled a think volume from the shelf, its cover adorned with intricate illustrations. With the utmost care, she opened the book revealing pages filled with magical symbols and vibrant illustrations of mythical creatures. As I leaned closer, my eyes widened with fascination.

“Magic,” she whispered, her eyes alight with a spark of excitement. “It’s the thread that weaves through the tapestry of our world. It’s the thread that weaves through the tapestry of our world. It’s both wondrous and dangerous, my love. Remember, knowledge is a gift, but it must be wielded wisely.

In that moment, she enveloped me in her arms, her embrace a cocoon of safety and love. I rested my head against her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her jasmine perfume. The world outside faded away leaving only the comforting presence of my mother and the soft rustle of the pages turning.

I shook the memory away harshly. My mother had prematurely died years ago, and I didn’t need distractions for my current goals. I realized I had momentarily stopped in my moment of reliving a past long gone, frustrated with myself I angerly continued to make my way back, I needed to know more about The Convergence, I thirsted for it. I needed to stay focused. And a sudden pull on my essence had me turning to the shelves where I found myself in a sea of books. I allowed my fingers to trail over the spines as I continued following my senses.

After a few more turns in multiple different bookshelves, I found myself in some well-lit corridors, I felt like I was about to enter the heart of the library. I shuddered with excitement at that thought, and I allowed my pace to quicken a bit as I ventured into the shadows at the end of the corridors, my thirst for understanding leading me to the promised answers, or in this case a room filled with books whose appearance gave their age away. I took a moment to collect myself. I didn’t need another memory to take my focus now that I was here.

I glanced behind me and didn’t see anyone following me and a quick glance around the room showed a couple books off the shelves. But the room felt like it had been a while since those books had been touched last, and that’s exactly how I liked it, though I thought I could handle it, I wanted a little more time before people caught on to my location and came to disturb me.

Confirming one last time no one was near me, I fully entered the room and shut the door behind. I could potentially be here a while. I put up some runes and glyphs I learned in the past around the door frame, nothing permanent, I just needed to make sure no one disturbed me.

Following the tug of essence, I slowly appreciated all the books I passed by, making mental notes of the texts I needed to set my eyes upon. I need something to absorb and understand these faster. Even my fastest speed read while taking notes, would leave me here for months. I contemplated as the tug grew more and more fierce.  

These languages, though long lost to the general population, I was extremely familiar with. Stopping in what felt like a random shelf of books, no one title catching my eye, my hand unconsciously reached for an ornate volume at my hip. The cover was adorned with symbols that seemed to shimmer with hidden power, whispering promises that I desperately needed. Slowly looking over the cover and making sure there were no locks, traps, or anything that could possibly damage the book upon opening without permission, I opened the book where I stood.

It felt like the words were leaping off the pages, forming intricate incantations and forgotten lore right before my eyes. As I read, it felt like the book was imbedding itself into my memory. And the more I read, the more I started to understand, and things from my own research were clicking into place, making itself part of this new knowledge.

The Convergence, which had been just a name to me moments before, my own theories about it making it an abstract concept, began to take on a tangible form within these pages. The rituals described surrounding it were potent, their implications both exhilarating and terrifying to behold. I was intoxicated by the words, my mind ablaze with the possibilities, the potential. The hunger for power, the thirst for understanding, drove me further into the darkness.

I will also need to go to the Institute of Paranormal Research that Dr. Marlowe mentioned. They should never have been brought into the accident that happened, as my work has never been paranormal related. I always made sure of that. Why would they be interested in my work now, especially once … …

I stopped my thoughts, it was just one more unanswered question, and one if that thread held weight, the answers could be lethal. Time lost its meaning, as I emptied my mind of all unnecessary thoughts again and delved deeper, my surroundings fading away until there was only knowledge—the tantalizing, forbidden knowledge that pulsed through my veins like a drug. Each incantation, each diagram, whispered promises of mastery over the Convergence’s energies. I felt I was on the verge of revelations that could reshape the very fabric of Eldoria.

But in my obsession, there was a small flicker of doubt I couldn’t snuff out yet. Was this path I treaded truly worth the cost? Do I have anything worth losing over the cost? No, I lost them the day my experiment failed along with the runes and glyphs protecting my experiment room. The ancient books spoke of consequences, of risks that could shatter minds and souls. Yet, the lure of power drowned out the cautionary whispers. I pressed on, my hands trembling as they turned the pages of the forbidden texts, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and fear. The dark promises I desperately needed to hear slowly gaining in my mind.

“… seeker of truths, embrace the shadows… … within the Convergence lies the key you need. With power comes the ability to change the very fabric of reality. Your loved ones need not be lost forever; you can reclaim their essence, their souls reshaped… …”

I shuddered as the promises wrapped around my heart, it was chilling embrace, but it filled the void left in my soul. I could almost see [insert partner name], here the girls’ laughter, feeling them next to me. This book offered me hope, a possibility amid this world devoid of color.

“… seeker of truths, unlock the secrets of the Convergence, and you shall transcend the boundaries of mortality,” the whispers continued, a sing-song persuasiveness that was both comforting and tempting. “… seeker of truths, with every incantation in the books mastered, every cosmic force harnessed, you will draw closer to the reunion you crave. The power to reshape reality lies within your grasp, waiting for the right hands to yield it.”

 Oh, how I wanted, no, needed these promises right now. I was nearing the end of this wonderfully, beautiful book. And knew that this one was incomplete. I needed to find the rest of the collection if my end goals were to be realized, so I could live the rest of my life peacefully with my family. And to my surprise the last ritual was a boon. It was extremely simple, and a great aid to quenching my thirst for knowledge. I slowly went over this ritual.

The instructions were woven with intricate symbols and arcane phrases. I wasn’t in a room meant for a ritual, but using a ritual room felt wrong somehow. Though the instructions didn’t come right out and say it, it felt like the symbols needed to be placed on my body. Especially considering, I wanted to use this ritual continuously.

I found an empty table and sat the book down, and began preparing for the rituals, making slight adjustments for applying the symbols to my body, instead of writing them in the air. Not thinking twice of the implications of carving the symbols upon my body, I set to work. Not caring about my attire at this point, I pulled out my ceremonial dagger, I had simple runes of power carved into ages ago when I started my research. I also pulled out my rare luminescent ink, I accidentally found this while in some ruins one year verifying some research.

I glanced at the book one more time, verifying that my alterations to the ritual would work, took my clothes off and began. I started the ritual.

“Yrthak mornas, velthar thyndar, Enthar vorak, zythra kalidar, Kyrra mystara, sylthor vandar, Eldor vynthar, Elystria mandar…” I started the chant off slowly and rhythmic, power slowly filling up a small bubble around my body only. As it continued on I grabbed my dagger off the table; and with precision I sliced each of my palms, letting blood seep out and the dagger falling.

" Sylthor vandar, Eldor vynthar, Elystria, thyndar, mandar, Zythra kalidar, kyrra mystara, In shadows deep, we write our saga.” Raising my arms up, almost swaying, I let the blood seep down body, the more coverage I had the more symbols would be marked upon me, and the more books I could interpret at one time.

I know I should have felt disgusted by what I was doing. But in this moment, I truly had stopped caring for what I was doing at this moment. The temptation of all that knowledge, just in this room alone, kicked my hesitation out to the Astral Realm. And on instinct alone, when I felt the moment was right, a lull in the chanting, I grabbed my ink, and dipped a finger into it.

Now it was time for the symbols to take root in me. I repeated the first chant over for each symbol, replacing my name, with the name of the symbols I was calling forth. On my right arm I drew and called up on Kalenth, which signified a thirst for ancient knowledge. On my left arm I draw and called upon the Fyndor, which signified the understanding of ancient texts. The following symbols were Thalys, Sythralis, Xylorenth, Kythos, and many more at varying points on my body where my blood managed to reach.

 As I finished the last symbol, the air crackled with energy as this marked the climax of the ritual, and the last step I personally need to take part in. The ritual itself would complete on its own, finishing when my body absorbed the last remnants of power I created. I watched fascinatingly as some of my blood flew on the ritual page of the book I was referencing. A new chant picked up around me as the books absorbed the blood, making it look like no blood had ever marred its pages.

It was in this moment, I felt whole for the briefest of moments. I watched as the symbols I wrote on my body lit up with starlight, and even more symbols appeared following the trails of blood. When the last symbol lit up, a horrible pain racked through me. It felt like all my bones were breaking and a monster migraine attacked my head, forcing my eyes shut. I can’t say this was worse than losing my family though, but I felt my energy start to leave me from all the pain I was feeling.

Am I dying? Will I go see my family now?

These were my last thoughts, as blackness stole over me as my energy drained out.

(This ritual was supposed to be a as needed ritual. Only requiring a ritual room. No stripping or blood sacrifice needed. How much havic can Elystria cause consciously, if she can unconsciously make a ritual enter the dark magic realm? Also, is that some of her past self creaping in there at the end when she asks if she's dying? I personally think the her that cast the ritual wouldn't have thought those thoughts. Let's see how the next chapter unfolds)

[imbasic-oppossum]

The seat of the car was cool

against my skin, almost burning. Outside, people were laughing, screaming, blasting horrible music. Lights flickered against the window pane. I stared listlessly outside, watching shapes tumble past, kids stumbling home drunk as a skunk. My fingers traced lines against the icy window. I could feel the vodka and ecstasy mingling in my blood, turning my into a buzzing glowing creature.

The door opened behind me. Thump. The door shut, and I turned. Oh. Him. Yay. His horrible black wavey hair that hung below his ears. His eyes bugged out and practically melted into fudge. Horrible. His skin was pasty white and lumpy with acne. I hated his face.

"Go away please," my voice flowed out shrill and pathetic.

I swatted at his arm, wanting him gone, and instead I slumped a little, leaning onto his arm. I didn't pull away, I narrowed my eyes at him. He was blinking slowly and calmly. His mouth turned down at the edges and he looked so much like a sad puppy that a giggle bubbled from my throat. He rubbed his eyes, his arm prying out from under me.

"Why are you always mad at me?" He asked, his words squeaky and tearful.

I smiled a little, blinking slowly. Frankly, I wasn't mad at him. But I was always under my own skin.

"Because you're just the most annoying guy I've ever met," I covered my mouth, smothering another giggle.

He nudged me with his shoulder and I slid closer against him. his smell was comfortable, and I liked his gray sweatshirt. It felt cool against my cheek, and smelled like Tide laundry detergent and sawdust. My head fell against his shoulder, and I could feel him letting out a soft little sigh.

"I'm high," my voice broke in a sob, and I knew it was because of the drugs.

I could feel him shifting to look at me, could practically smell the concern. It was endearing in a way.

"Why would you do that?" He admonished, like a mother, so gently correcting my latest disobedience.

"B-because..." my words trailed away.

He was turning over, facing me now. He had to hold me up because I was slumping over like a doll.

"Why?" He was so insistent.

I tried to bat his hands away, but my own were so wobbly and distorted that they did no more harm than a kittens swat.

"What did you do?" He asked, and I had to look at his ugly eyes.

"The body," I blubbered. "I did that."

Had I said that? Oh well. There were better things to think of. I felt so much better! I smiled at him, and wondered why his face looked so silly.

"You means those pranks? The ones the crazy people saw?" He asked, his neck craning, his face trying to follow mine. I let out a nice dramatic sigh.

"Yes, because he said so, and I don't want to think about it." I tried twisting away but he really did need to lay off.

"Wait, who did?" I got the strength to shove his hands away.

He glared fiercely at me, those horrible melting eyes. I leaned against the door of the car, looking at him dizzily. He sighed, climbing out of the car, the gravel crunching humorously under his tennis shoes. The door slammed. Click. Oh, big scary man locking me in. I tugged at the door. Child lock. I felt queazy, and laid my head back. The ceiling swirled and dipped and I smiled to myself. I was so tired.

I didn't really feel the vomit, I just heaved it onto the floor of the car. The burn of alcohol and bad Chinese food twisted through the air and I must've passed out.

I was being moved around, gently, soft words telling me you're alright, I'm here now, we're gonna go home.

Idiot. He smelled nice and I buried my face in his neck. He was moving me, arms lifted, cold air, nice comforters. I tugged his shirt and I was pushed off. 

I slept for hours and hours, drowning in everything Id ingested. Soon all memory of the body was gone.

[scentedinksandwhackedseals]

ongoing continued:

The Witch: A lonely timeless Witch trying to find someone to watch the trees grow with.

My note: This comic is somehow soft and calming and heartwrenching and dramatic at the same time. It reminds me of This Is How You Lose The Time War in some ways. Maybe because of the way it travels through different times and places and all the stories.

on hiatus:

Cunning Fire: Cunning Fire is an urban fantasy story about witches and spirits in modern day Chicago. After they discover her ability to see Spirits, a local coven recruits Akiva Stein to be the Death witch in their quest to create the legendary Elixir of Life. Along the way, Akiva is confronted by strange creatures, the worlds of the Astral plane, and the horrible realities of past events, forcing her to face her own abilities and flaws and how they will shape her future.

My note: I love this series so goddamn much and can't recommend it enough. (But that's true for every single one of these so...) Plus it takes place in the city I grew up in which is pretty cool. Unfortunately I have no idea when or if it's ever coming back.

Spellbound: Highschool might just be a few years, but when you re hit with stress, depression, and feel like you can only count on yourself, these years all seem a lot longer!

My note: For more of a description, cute gay witches with family and mental health issues. I think this might be good for fans of Heartstopper even though it's not thaaaat much like Heartstopper.

The Sea in You: Corinth was just trying to clean up the beach, she never expected to meet a mermaid, let alone be nearly drowned by one. It was the start of a very strange friendship.

My note: This one is more completed than on hiatus but the last episode says end of story 1 so...

Darker Further Down: Libby and Elaine Miller are maybe-cousins living in a stupid duplex (stuplex) in Blackwater, Maine. Elaine pines after the girl who lives in the deep end of their public pool and Libby does what she can to keep a doppelganger of her mother at bay. You can live a pretty normal life in Blackwater if you've got a good priest, a house with no history, and a healthy family dynamic. But if you don't, well… welcome to the night crew.

My note: You can read a lot more on the artist's instagram @coinswallow

some of my favorite webcomics

they all have queer main characters and they're all excellent.

completed:

Power Ballad: As personal assistant to an international pop star, Meera Verma has her hands full trying to keep the gorgeous and talented Carina Peterson primped, polished, and mostly on time. As personal assistant to a Los Angeles-based masked vigilante, Meera has her hands full repairing body armor, stitching up knife wounds, and generally doing everything in her power to keep the mysterious and reckless Skeleton alive and out of trouble. Carrie's just trying to make some music and fight some crime.

My note: Funny, interesting plot, great characters. I also love the role the internet plays in this comic. Btw, only the character on the left in the preview below is one of the main characters. The one on the right is her ex who makes a single appearance. She has a lot of exes who make appearances.

Muted (my beloved!!!): On the full moon of her 21st year, the young witch, Camille Severin, is expected to perform the traditional ritual to summon forth a winged demon for her families success and prosperity. But when the ritual goes wrong, it reveals the terrifying truths about herself and the secrets that threaten to tear her family apart.

My note: This might be my favorite webcomic ever, partially because it was one of the first ones I ever read. But yeah, I love it so much.

Heir’s Game: When a new heir to the duchy of Belluna comes of age, there is held the Heir's Game: a brutal series of duels to determine the heir's bodyguard. When Theuden, the new heir, meets Isran, a quiet duelist with a mysterious past, their love will threaten to change everything.

My note: Another one of the first webcomics I read. I love it very much. Warning: it has a lot of gory moments. Plenty of disturbing injuries.

Shoot Around (by the same creator as Heir's Game): When a zombie apocalypse hits during the practice of a high school basketball team, it's a whole new life for the coach, Jeff. The world's turned upside down and the girls seem to be handling the changes way better than Jeff, who has troubles adjusting. A close-knit group of friends, the girls are eager to tackle this new world with its challenges!

My note: ok maybe I won't have a note for every single one. But yeah, same creator as Heir's Game, also excellent. But they're all excellent. So.

Four Leaf: Pulled into a magical world by her enigmatic best friend, Lupe finds herself in the middle of an ongoing battle between witches who seek the remains of the Wolf, and hunters who are after the witches. There's not much Lupe can do to escape her fate; only the Lady of Wishes can send her home… if the legend is true.

A Week In Warrigilla: Three days into a road trip through rural Australia, girlfriends Hazel and Willie find themselves trapped within the supernatural region of Warrigilla. With nothing but their green Holden and the notes of a mysterious traveller, they drive cross-country in an attempt to escape. [cw: mild gore, mild body-horror, horror themes and suspense]

ongoing:

Broccoli Soup (will be going on hiatus soon): This is a story about a young Broccoli who lives in a void with their best friend Doris. Everything is ideal. There is definitely nothing wrong here.

My note: Weird, cute, and sometimes a little creepy. I am in love with this comic.

The Greenhouse: When a random stranger on the streets told her she was cursed, Mica didn't believe it. But once she's moved into her new apartment after being kicked out, she's starting to reconsider what they said might have been true.

My note: these characters have my whole heart. The main character, Mica, also happens to remind me of Julien Baker in a lot of ways as described in this post.

Ava’s Demon: Ava's Demon is about a girl named Ava and the demon haunting her. The demon, however, might just be the ghost of an alien queen, Wrathia, seeking revenge on the one that destroyed her empire, a god-like figure named Titan. The story follows Ava as she makes her way across the universe, teaming up with Wrathia on a quest for revenge, while fighting her inner demons along the way.

My note: The art. *Chef's kiss*

180 Angel: Chloe Heavenwood wants nothing more than to become a delivery angel like her mother, but her world turns upside down when she asks a disagreeable reaper for help. Soon she is thrown into the affairs of Hell, where she makes an unlikely group of friends and begins to question everything she has learned about Heaven. To make matters worse, it seems she has won the attention of Hell's fiery Princess…

to be continued since you only get 10 links per post apparently?

[collegeishardbutwritingisharder]

Yandere Acromantula w/ child reader

A.N. Okay, so, I should mention that I am not a Harry Potter fan in the slightest but I do find the creatures fascinating. Thus I wanted to write some stuff with each creature. If any Harry Potter character does appear in the writing, they will most likely be ooc because I didn't read any of the books past the first one. Apologies if that upset someone. Also there will be some triggering things when reading this. If something related to the yandere genre, do yourself a favor and don't read. P.S. this is all platonic.

"Hello?"

I called out, hoping to find my parents again.

My parents and I were on a trip to Borneo and we decided to take a tour of one of the jungles there. Sadly, my parents continued along their way while I was admiring a beautiful flower. I was trying to find somebody from my travel group but instead, I was just getting more and more lost. The sun started going down and the forest was getting darker and darker. Tears started to fill the corners of my eyes for my imagination was making shapes and creatures that weren't real.

"Mommy! Daddy! Where are you?!" I shouted, running away from the gruesome creatures of the shadows.

A root was slightly above the ground and snagged my foot. I tripped and spun around on the ground. Like Sonic The Hedgehog's spin attack. I got plenty of different scrapes and bruises but the worse was the fact that my ankle got twisted. I tried to get back up but I couldn't put any pressure on my foot to get anywhere.

'Time to start crawling. It would be better than nothing at all.'

I used my elbows to dig into the ground to start inching forward. Plenty of rocks were digging into my skin but I had to ignore the pain to actually get far away from anything. Eventually, I made it to an area that was covered with spider webs everywhere. The webs were quite large and the silk was extra sticky. You could see the drops on each string. I was doing my best to avoid the webs but I'm not the most careful person in the world.

My arm got stuck in one of the webs and I couldn't get loose from it. I really didn't want to be eaten by a giant spider today. I was wriggling as much as I could but I ended up getting more and more entangled in the web.

"You poor little child. Got stuck inside of my web it seems. What is something as small and weak as you doing in this dark forest?" A silky, woman's voice came in my ears.

I felt myself freeze for a few seconds before and uncontrollable shake started to take over my entire body. My breathing became irregular and shaky. My vision was starting to become blurry with the tears that were starting to form in my eyes. I then felt a presence behind me which made me turn around slightly. That proved to be a horrible decision.

A giant spider was only about two feet away from me. I thought that spiders couldn't talk or if they could, then humans were just not able to understand them. She was covered in black hair and was making a clicking noise that reminded me of my father's snapping. She then brought one of her legs up to brush my hair out of my face slightly.

The tears that were originally staying put started to flow freely down my face. All that I wanted now is my mother.

"M-mommy..." I whispered to myself, thinking that if I said her name that she would magically appear and save me from this situation. With her in mind, I could feel phantom hugs and kisses from her.

"Mommy?" The spider repeated, confusion filling her being, not used to being called mommy.

The acromantula then started to observe her prey and notice certain features that she originally didn't pay much attention before. The little child's sparkling eyes were filled with fear and sorrow but also had a few hidden sparks of curiosity. Their hair was beautifully styled and was fuller than the hair that covered her and her family's bodies. All of the bright red scrapes and blue/purple bruises that were covering their nicely colored skin.

After a detailed scan, the acromantula decided to speak again and try to comfort the crying child.

"You are quite the stunning creature, little one. Especially for a human. Normally, I don't care much for appearances but you, my dear, would be quite a shame to lose. Now, it's time for us to go and meet all of your new siblings. But, let us make sure that you don't accidentally hurt yourself anymore. My birth name is Reina but you can call me Mommy."

Reina plucked me out of her web and then proceeded to wrap a silk cocoon around me at a fast pace. My fight or flight kicked in and I had panic filling my veins.

"N-no! Wait, please!" I shouted, trying to struggle to prevent the cocoon from being made.

"Now, now. No squirming. You don't have to worry anymore. I'll take great care of you. How about to build some trust, you tell me your name since I already told you mine." Reina said, successfully getting silk all around my arms and legs, which also ended all of my struggling.

"(Y-Y/N)." I choked out, my throat tightening from all of the crying and the fact that my fate was sealed with a silk ribbon.

"(Y/N). What a unique name. I quite like that name. Well, I hope that you enjoy your new home with all of your new siblings."

After making sure that I secure on her back, Reina quickly climbed up a tree, revealing how large the webs truly were. She was moving at such blinding speed that I needed to close my eyes for most of it. I reopened my eyes when I felt the wind stop flowing my hair. We made it to what seemed to be a giant web. I could see the ground and I did not appreciate how far it was from me.

Something else that I noticed was all of the giant orbs that were littered around the web. They seemed to be the size of a beach ball but I had a feeling that they were actually beach balls. Reina then removed my cocoon from her back and stuck me to the web. She cut most of the web away from my body except from my back to make sure that I wouldn't tumble down to the ground below. She then took my twisted ankle and started to wrap it. It was an excellently made cast. I just wish it was a human who made it.

"There we go. Now, I want you to stay off that leg of yours. You wouldn't want to go and make your ankle worse. I'm gonna go and make sure that all of your unborn siblings are doing just fine."

So, that's what all of the beach balls things are. They're her eggs. While she seemed to be distracted, I started to observe the web that I was stuck on. It seemed that the webs actually climb down the trees. If I could crawl over there, I can climb all of the way down to the ground.

I started to struggle to try and get off of my back but I quickly realized that was a bad idea. I don't know how to move around the web without falling to my doom. The web on my back was the only thing that was keeping me from falling to my death.

"All of my babies are nice and healthy. Now, it's time to ensure that you won't be eaten the first time that I leave you alone in the web," Reina explained, petting my head lightly with one of her legs, "And then we can have some well needed parent child time together."

Reina picked me up once again and started rushing through the trees. I saw plenty of other large spiders on the way. They didn't seem all that pleased with my presence. I started to shake slightly. Their glares mixed with the deep seeded loneliness of being lost were making near impossible to breath normally. I tried to take deep breaths to regulate my heartbeat. It only worked slightly.

"We're here." Reina said out of nowhere.

I looked behind my shoulder at another spider like Reina. Except he was a tad smaller then Reina. Reina took me off of her back before she started talking with the other spider. They started yelling at each other but I sort of tuned them out. I didn't need to know if I was going to be eaten or not by the male spider.

The male spider seemed to back down because Reina was getting really scary. He only nodded to her before going off on his own. Reina started to let out light clicks. They reminded me of the snapping that my dad would do to me when I was a baby to entertain me. Reina picked me up again and started to carry me back to her web. I was honestly getting really sick of being carried around like I'm some sort of doll for Reina. But I know better than to try and get out of this. Falling to my death isn't better.

We made it back and Reina stuck me on my back once again. She kept on clicking but she was adding more webs around my body. She stuck my hands and legs into a star fish position and I couldn't move at all. After she was pleased with what she done, Reina just laid down near me.

"There you go, all tucked in and safe. Now, let's bring your siblings over."

Reina then rolled all 100 eggs over to where I was stuck and next thing that I knew was that I was surrounded by all of the soft squishy eggs. Reina then crawled over the eggs carefully before lying down on top of me.

"There we go. Now, you won't freeze half way through the night."

Reina then closed her eyes and started click rhythmically. The clicks started to make me drift off to sleep as well. It was like some sort of lullaby.

I don't know how long I was out for. When I came to, Reina wasn't there but I was still surrounded by all of the eggs. The ones that were closest to me were actually tapping me which I found odd. It was like the baby spiders were trying to get close to me.

"Awwww, how adorable."

Reina' voice flooded my ears and freaked me out. I jolted my head towards her and saw her with an animal carcass.

"W-What's adorable?"

"That my babies are already growing close to you! I was worried that they were too far within their growing process to like someone other than their Mommy. But now my fears are fictional."

Reina placed the animal down before crawling over to me. My fear was renewed and I tried to struggle once again but the webs were still really strong. Reina laid down on me again and started clicking.

This became a sort of pattern for the next few weeks. I would wake up, my 'siblings' would be all around me, and Reina would come back with some sort of food for us. My ankle finally healed and Reina spent an entire week to teach me how to walk on the webs. It actually a lot of fun to crawl over each of the lines!

One day, when Reina was out and I finally worked up the courage to crawl down one of the trees, something started happening to the eggs. Cracks started to form all over the shells. Panic was starting to form in my stomach and made me kick my movements into high gear.

I was walking as quickly as I could around the web to reach one of the trunks but before I could reach it, I was tackled to the web by one of the newly hatched spiders.

"Sibling! Sibling! Sibling!" All of the new born spiders started chanting around me.

"H-he-hey! N-n-n-no. I'm not your sibling."

"Yes, you are! We recognize you!"

I kept trying to distract all of the young ones but eventually, I was being chased around the web in a weird version of tag. Thankfully, I ended up tiring a few of them out but in the end, I was the one who ended up losing all of their energy. The not tired spiders crawled on top of me once again while the more tired once crawled onto the dog pile.

I tried to squirm my way out from underneath all of the children but I couldn't move an inch. My vision started to fade. I guess that I was more tired than I originally guessed. I woke up to Reina's laughter. I felt her legs lightly stroking my head.

"This is such a welcoming scene to come back to. My babies hatched and to see them cuddling their older sibling. This is everything that I could have dreamed of when I took you in. The best part is that I can sense that you are not of wizard heritage. Which means that you can't use powers to get away from us, plus anybody who might try to look for you wouldn't know that we exist. What a perfect scenario."

My mind went blank at her words. Wizards are real. I shouldn't be too surprised considering I'm having a conversation with a spider right now. I heard a tiny yawn before a shout of "Mother!" was sounded.

All of the tiny spiders crawled off of me and started to crawl on Reina. I started to try and crawl backwards towards a tree trunk but Reina took notice of my movements and shot out of silk, sticking my leg to the web.

"Now, now, (Y/N). I know that you're as excited as I am but you must stay here for now. Now, my children, I'm hoping that your older siblings did a good job of entertaining and taking care of you while I was gone. Who's hungry though? I've got a lot of delicious food for all of us to feast upon." Reina spoke, successfully getting all of the young spiders crawling towards the food.

Reina watched over her children before turning her gaze towards me. I started shaking because now, I had no chance of escaping this web. Why couldn't the children have hatched tomorrow?!

"Come now, my child. We must feast as well."

Reina sliced through her web and held out her leg for me to grab. She was glaring at me, sort of taunting me to disobey her. I forced myself to grab her leg and I started walking to the food.

"That's my good child."

[definegodliness]

Full Scrooge

The inner debates have ended. I have decided to go Full Scrooge this year, arguing I’ve been keeping up appearances for far, far too long, and it simply seems ridiculous to, once again, begrudgingly, and forcibly zone out for an entire evening spent in social obligations. 

Christmas is cancelled.

I am tired of the mind-numbing, deliberately air-headed conversations. Tired of the alternative: getting drunk to make the whole ordeal somewhat more festive and interesting, with the trade-off of taking a train ride home wherein I get pooped to the point only a wretched disdain for myself and the world fuels me. I am a horribly miserable and lonely creature, and I want to taste a season without having to fake my way with bright smiles and entertaining anecdotes of long, long bygone times. 

I don’t want to feel any responsibility of being the light of the party. No, I don’t even want to be a faint glow’s mediator. I reject my role within the whole. This year. It is all too far away from me. 

I can’t muster the strength to be lived. Dejection’s rot has at long last settled in so deep that I feel I can trade in my loved ones’ disappointment for a shred of inner peace. This year. I have made that clear. 

I’ll get on with the show in 2023. 

As such, my act of defiance is one of consensus, and safely worth absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. But, still, I am going Full Scrooge, and saying ‘Christmas is cancelled’ is quite unique. I mean, who could hate the most wonderful time of the year? I find it rather humorous that the answer is ‘me’. I am the one to spit my gall and mutter ‘humbug’ this year. It is my present from me to me. It will be an off and on sit-through of guilt and shame, but at least I will get to be real. Horrid and hopeless and real. 

What sealed the deal is the notion that if I am to remain completely unseen, I’d rather have no people within my nearest proximity. None of these half-assed attempts at (re)connection. I know I’m unnerving when one ungenuinely asks and expectedly gets dishonesty. I know the spirited people will feel empathetically obligated to for the first time this year ask how I’ve been doing, and worst, with maintained eye-contact add, “like, really?”. 

I don’t want to answer and feel that apologetic shit-eating grin shape my mouth and cheeks. 

The only thing I am bummed out about is that I won’t get three spirits to grant me an epiphany to reignite my interest in living, and the living. I am very aware of my past, and present, and I can’t see any Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come doing anything other than shake my hand for not dragging any naive or unsuspecting human being into this utmost jaded hellhole with me. I am not in any acceptable place to either send forth or receive love this year. Honestly, I should be tucked away by any means.

I am looking forward to all of this, as I find it funny. In self-deprecating humor. In enlarged and dramatised senses of self, set free. In unadulterated honesty. I will end this year as I have experienced life, and my own metaphysicality. Horrid, hopeless, miserable, and lonely. Frankly. When the clock strikes twelve come New Year’s Eve, I will be in bed for approximately half an hour. Even though I stay up well into the AM’s three-hundred-sixty-four days of the year. I will curse the fireworks, and all of you. Humbug. 

Just this year.

[221bshrlocked]

Show Me Your True Colors

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

Words: 14092 (I swear this was supposed to be a short oneshot but it got out of hand. I'm so so sorry.)

Warnings: 28% smut, 72% plot. Penetrative, unprotected sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Oral (male and female receiving). Fingering and Squirting due to overstimulation. Some dom/sub elements but not full-on. Creampie. Rough handling (e.g. hair-pulling, spanking, hand-binding, some more hair-pulling). I think that's all?!

Inspired by these posts [x] [x] and by this lovely artist. Thanks @danniburgh for humoring me with my thots.

A/N: I came back from my temporary hiatus to post this because I couldn't wait. And now I shall return to my little corner again. Sorry guys these school/administrative issues are taking longer to deal with so I'm for the most part still away. This is not beta'd. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments please and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy. And you can add yourself to the taglist here.

It’s such a different atmosphere, from what he remembers at least. It’s been so long since he stepped foot on a university campus, and he can’t help but smile at the spectrum of personalities all around him. While some students lounge underneath the trees and on the grass, others ran hastily to their courses. Those were probably freshmen.

As he makes his way through the campus, he has to look at his phone numerous times to figure out where exactly he was going. That’s definitely one thing he didn’t miss about being in school, the fact that he was shit in directions and how he almost always got lost during the beginning of each semester.

When he does finally find the art history department, he silences his phone and heads to the first office he can find.

“Good afternoon, my name is Nicola. How can I help you?”

“Hi Nicola, I’m here to see Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you could direct me to her office please?” Marcus smiles as he unbuttons his suit jacket, not realizing that his FBI tag was now visible to the world.

“She’s currently in one of her lectures, you could-” Marcus follows Nicola’s line of sight when she grows quiet and groans when he sees that she noticed his FBI tag.

“Please, she’s not in trouble. I am part of the FBI Art Crime Team, and I’m actually coming to ask if we could get her professional opinion on an artifact. Just need her to consult on something.” He smiles at Nicola and waits for her expression to relax before he continues.

“Do you mind telling me which lecture hall she’s in?”

“Y-yes, she’s in H140. Make a right at the door and it’s the hall all the way at the end.”

“Thank you Nicola, have a good day.” Marcus nods at her before he buttons his jacket again to avoid any suspicious, terrified looks as he makes his way to the lecture hall. He walks quietly, avoiding the students walking past him as they exit the rooms. When he reaches the door, he turns the knob slowly to not make any noise, hoping that he wasn’t being too disruptive once he walks in. As he shuts it behind him and looks around, his eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are at least 250, maybe 300 students filling the seats of the room. He awkwardly smiles when some students look to the side and see him standing at the foot of the door. He quickly takes a seat and says nothing as the students return their attention to the large projected screen. Marcus hears what he assumes is your voice through the large speakers but he can’t place your position. As he looks at the projected images, he finally catches you through his peripheral vision as you step off the railing near the exit doors at the front of the room.

“Because of this association with the gods, many amulets used to ward off the evil eye include depictions of mythological figures and deities who are almost, if not always, female. To the Greeks and Romans, the most common fascinations with an evil eye were women in any shape or form. They were thought to have the most powerful and harmful gaze that might kill if eye contact was established. That’s basically me telling you to never look me in the eye or else I will curse the cow of your second cousin twice removed.” Laughter reverberates off the walls at your joke and only grows louder when you whisper, “just kidding...or am I?” Marcus can’t help but smile at your jokes, watching with fascination as you move up and down the stairs of one side of the lecture hall once you continue to speak.

“Now, I know what some of you are thinking...isn’t that a bit sexist? Well, to the ancients, no. And to us, it’s kind of a meh thing. I know that doesn’t sound very feminist of me but it all comes down to the culture and the ancient practices that carried over. Just remember that it wasn’t because they were women, it was because they were thought to be powerful...a glass half-full kinda thing.” Marcus watches you closely as you maintain your focus on the students before you switch the slide and stand in the middle of the stairway with your back towards the projector.

“So, we find goddesses such as Erinnyes or the Furies associated with the evil eye because of their avenging nature. Their heads were covered in serpents and their eyes were always bloodshot and one of the Furies by the name of Megaera was considered in late antiquity as the personification of envy and whose eyes were the most envious and deadly of all the Furies. She was described by poets as baskanon omma pherousa...bearing the evil eye. Naturally, many children in late antiquity constantly wore amulets of stone galactite to protect them from the eyes of Megaera, and sometimes even wore necklaces with her face on it to counteract the evil eye of someone else and have her curse the ones who tried to harm them. Basically, the ancients were playing a game of tag with the evil eye.” You descend the stairs and walk to the other side of the hall, and Marcus feels his chest tighten with how much confidence you exude, not just through your words but with how you carry yourself as well.

“Perhaps the most famous of these dangerous women is Medusa who was one of the Gorgones in Greek mythology. The Gorgones were one of many female beings such as the Harpies, the Erinnyes, the Graiae, and the Keres, who were said to be grim-faced, and who held horrible looks. Briefly, the story tells of how she was one of the most beautiful women to ever walk the earth and later became hateful-looking by Athena as punishment for being raped by Poseidon in the middle of the huntress’ temple. Her hair became serpents and she was so furious that anyone who would look at her would turn into stone...at least that is the version you will hear from the “all-knowing” male scholars within this field. But, and I know I’m going on a rant here, if you’re like me, you’re more likely to argue that Athena pretended to hate Medusa. The serpents were no punishment! The goddess looked at the poor woman and gave her a weapon to use against men because unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything to avenge her...not only because she didn’t get along with Poseidon but also because he was a god as well. Anyway, back to Medusa’s amazing power which I would love to have so I could use it whenever I’m talking to some professors in this department...don’t quote me on that.” Again, Marcus chuckles at your side commentary and notices how calm and enjoyable the atmosphere of the lecture is. If only he had professors like you when he was in university.

“Even after she was decapitated by Perseus, her powers were very much alive and it is said that Athena placed Medusa’s image on her shield, once Perseus returned it, in order to use it when she hunted. This suggests that depictions of her severed head held apotropaic power and like earlier, one could use a creature who held the power of the evil eye against another being who is said to use the evil eye. Following this principle of similia similibus, it is not surprising that most of the amulets found in Greece and Rome contained illustrations of Medusa’s decapitated head on them. What was once the possessor of the evil eye became a protective symbol against the very same thing.” Just as you are about to continue with the next image, an alarm goes off and Marcus frowns in shock at how inconsiderate it was that phones weren’t silenced. But his surprise only heightens when he sees you running down the steps to your desk and picking up the phone sitting in the middle of the table.

“Ahhhh man, we were just about to get to the cavalier. That’s okay. Remember, the second response is due first thing on Friday. If you can’t turn it in during class, shoot me an email and we can work something out with my TAs. Go forth my clever spawns!” Marcus stands up and glues himself to the wall when he sees students emptying the lecture hall, his eyes on your form at the front of the class. He hopes you don’t leave out of the front exit and begins to make his way to you through the multitude of undergrads leaving. When he reaches your desk, he stands to the side until you finish chatting with one of the students and begins to collect your work.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Please, it’s just Y/N. Who are you and how can I help you today?” You almost do a double take when you look up from your bag and see the man standing in front of you. To say that you were starstruck by the man in front of you would have been the understatement of the century.

“I’m Special Agent Marcus Pike,” he holds out his FBI tag for you and watches as you raise an eyebrow at him before you swing your bag across your shoulders and motion for him to follow you out of the hall.

“I would like to put it on record that I do not, in fact, wish to turn any of my colleagues to stone.” You joke, and Marcus senses that you are perhaps nervous at seeing his tag.

“Believe me, I would like to do that to some of mine as well...but no, not why I’m here.” Marcus clips the tag below his jacket as he walks with you.

“May I ask what I have done that caught the FBI’s attention?” You walk ahead of him, and ask him if it was okay for him to head over to your office with you.

“I’m with the FBI Art Crime Team and I’m here on a request. We would like to consult you on an open investigation and I came here to ask what your availability is.” Marcus follows you up the stairs, barely forcing his eyes to remain on your feet instead of elsewhere.

“Oh, me? That’s...wow. Of all the things I thought I would accomplish in my life, that’s definitely not one of them. May I ask what it is you need my opinion on?” You push open the doorway of the staircase and point at your office across the quiet hall.

“Unfortunately, there is a lot of paperwork you need to fill out before we get to work so I can’t disclose anything about the case until you sign in.” Marcus steps into the office behind you and watches as you set your things down before you move to your desk. He can’t help but feel his muscles loosen at the sight of the bookshelves across your room.

“This is probably the most exciting thing to happen to me all year long so yes, hundred percent. I’m available for the rest of the day today as well as tomorrow and Friday after lecture which ends at the same time as today’s.” You beam up at him as you take two books out of your bag and replace them with a folder that was sitting in the middle of your desk. Marcus looks at you quizzically, marveling at how much easier this was going. He genuinely thought he was going to meet with someone who was probably a bit proud and perhaps as much of an asshole as his previous professors but you were so much different than anyone he’s ever met within this field.

“Are you sure? I understand if you need to take a week or two-”

“No please, you’ll be saving me from faculty lunches and two seminars by colleagues that I genuinely cannot fucking stand- oh, sorry. Sorry, didn’t mean to-” You swing your leather bag around your shoulder again and shut the blinds of the windows before you walk to the door.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about that with me.” Marcus chuckles at the excitement rolling off of you and bites his lower lip when he watches you quickly fix your hair.

“I might need to have lunch on the way to your office though if that’s okay?” You take a plastic container out of your bag and smile sheepishly at him as you lock your door.

“Wow...is your bag bigger on the inside or something? And, yeah fine by me.” He pushes his hands into his pockets again and walks next to you, a little corner in his heart gradually filling with hope letting him know that he should be cautious. He didn’t want a repeat of last time.

You both chat briefly on your way to headquarters and Marcus apologizes every time he looks over and sees you struggling with your food. By the time you make it to the building, Marcus can tell you are a bit nervous and he assures you once more that this was merely a consultation.

“Wait how did you even find me?” You take your jacket off along with everything in your pockets, laying them down near your bag as they go through the scanner. Marcus passes through with his badge and waits for you on the other side, picking up your things as you put your jacket back on.

“I made some calls and a friend suggested to get in touch with you because of your expertise.”

“Oh now we’re getting somewhere. You have a Greek artifact don’t you?” Marcus halts in his steps and looks over to you as he shuts his eyes in irritation. He should have watched what he said.

“S-sorry I couldn’t help it. I’ll stop until I fill out whatever paperwork you have for me.” You take your things from him and walk quietly as he leads you to the elevators.

“I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s not personal, it’s just-”

“Business I know. I know. I’m so used to watching this kind of stuff in movies that I tend to forget it’s all fake and you’re...the real deal.” You hope he doesn’t see the way your eyes trail over his taller form, silently cursing yourself when you meet his eyes and notice how he’s already staring at you with a smile.

“Sorry.” You apologize again and look straight ahead, hands tightening around the leather strap when you realize that he’s still looking at you.

Marcus fists the hands in his pockets to prevent himself from saying anything else that might make you uncomfortable, and he looks at the increasing numbers as they reach his floor. A loud ring signals your arrival and Marcus stretches out his hand so you could walk ahead of him. You wait until he tells you where to go and say nothing when he stops for a second and whispers something to another agent.

When you arrive at his office, you stand to the side and wait for him to tell you what to do.

“What’re you doing all the way over there? Come here.” Marcus calls you over to his desk and smiles, hoping to put you a little at ease. You step towards him and set your stuff on the floor as you sit opposite him on one of the two chairs. He pulls out a couple of files and sets them in front of you in four different piles.

“That’s a lot of paperwork.” You chuckle nervously as you take out a pen from your bag.

“I know, I’m sorry. But that’s why I’m here. These are the building rules and your signature is basically you telling us you’ll abide by all of them.”

“I don’t know any of them.” You respond immediately, and rub harshly at the pen between your fingers.

“I’ll be with you at all times so you don’t have to worry about that.” His smile throws you off guard and you nod before you sign the highlighted areas.

“And these are you swearing that you will tell no one of whatever you see, hear, do, etc. within the building.” You nod and sign through the stapled paperwork before sliding them his way.

“We’re almost done. These two are like the second pile but they have to do with this case specifically. And they extend to outside the premises, meaning that if I or another agent on the case tells you anything that has to do with your work here today while we’re grabbing coffee from across the street, you can’t say it to a living soul.” Marcus points at the four highlighted boxes and tells you to sign the date next to them as well.

“So I can say it to my dead cousin?” You ask as you sign the two papers and hand them to him, unable to hold your laughter when he shakes his head as he pushes the last pile towards you.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“Can’t help it.”

“And finally, these are you swearing that whatever you tell us today, be it an opinion, a fact, or anything else, is the absolute truth. Basically, you’re not fucking with us.” You raise an eyebrow at his choice in words and he shrugs his shoulders as he motions for the empty spaces again. When you’re done, Marcus collects all the files and places them in a folder before he unlocks his desk and pushes them inside.

“I don’t ever want to see my signature again.” You whisper as he leads you out of the office towards a conference room. He holds the door for you and nods ahead, waiting for you to step in before he shuts the door behind him and turns around. You try to ignore the hand pushing on your lower back as you walk in and spot three gentlemen and one woman standing towards the end of the long table.

“Wow, that was quick.” The female agent is first to speak and you say nothing as Marcus introduces you to them.

“Thank you for coming on such a short notice.”

“Of course. This is very exciting for me so I’m happy to help in any way.” You shake her hand and stand to the side as Marcus motions for you to sit down.

“This is Lydia, Ethan, Henry, and Noah.” Marcus points to each member of his team as he pulls out a chair next to you and sits down.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You nod towards them and look at the folder that Lydia hands to you. Marcus says something as you flip open the folder but you can’t respond, eyes almost falling out of their sockets as you take in the large image on the page. You look up at Marcus and everyone else before you return your attention to the picture.

“You recognize what this is then?” Ethan breaks the silence and watches as you move through the pages quickly.

“Umm, that seems like an oversimplification but yes.” You continue to study the images in front of you for another few minutes before you set them down and look up at Marcus.

“Some explanation would really help me out right now.” You tap softly on the papers, and your mind conjures up the wildest possible stories behind the images currently displayed in front of you.

“Oh right yes. We received a tip from the Smithsonian’s acquisitions department about a man trying to sell them this artifact for three million dollars,” Marcus notices your eyes widen but he continues, “but they’re not sure if it’s stolen or not. And he refuses to cooperate.”

“Which is where you come in. Have you seen anything like this before and if so, where?” Lydia stares at you as you return your attention to the pictures again.

“And the Smithsonian can’t confirm this?”

“Far from it. Marcus here is just afraid they’ll eventually get greedy and do anything to get their hands on it.” You look next to you and watch a faint blush take over the agent’s handsome features.

“I mean I don’t blame you. There are a bunch of real assholes in this field.” You laugh when he gives Lydia a ‘told you’ look.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help you if I don’t see the actual pendant.” You shut the folder and push it away from you.

“That might be a problem.” Henry takes his glasses off and proceeds to clean them as he looks at his co-workers.

“Why? Do you not have it anymore?” Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of the FBI losing such an object.

“Oh no we have it. Our guy is afraid we’ll switch it out with a fake so he refuses to hand it to us unless he’s in the same room.”

“That’s funny. Is there a rule that says I can’t look at it while this man is in the room?” You ask Marcus and he can’t help but notice how giddy you’re being all of a sudden. Your excitement is almost palpable and he wills himself to focus on the question and not how you bite your lower lip as you wait for him.

“I mean…”

“You’re all going to be in the room aren’t you?” You cut him off before he says anything and when they all nod, you turn to Marcus once more and wait for his response.

“I guess it’s fine.” Marcus reluctantly answers before he asks Ethan and Noah to bring the man from the interrogation room he’s been in for the past couple of hours. Lydia and Henry let you in on more details and Marcus watches as you furrow your eyebrows in focus, occasionally cutting them off to ask them a question.

Fifteen minutes later and a knock on the door breaks you out of your haze. You look up just as Ethan and Noah walk in with a man in front of them. You say nothing as they bring him to your side of the room and set him down across from you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t steal it. I found it!” Your ears perk at his comment but you say nothing as he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you.

“May I see it?” You ask before anyone else says anything and the man continues to stare at you before he ignores your question.

“Please, I’m just here to confirm your story. I know for a fact there isn’t a museum out there that has this.” You notice the hardened expression on Henry’s face but he says nothing. A few long moments pass by and the man shifts to take something out of the inside his jacket. You inhale deeply and watch as he unwraps the cloth before he places the small pendant on the table in front of you.

“May I?” You ask again and if Marcus didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just trying to put the man at ease. If you were nervous around five FBI agents and you did nothing wrong, then his little thief must have been scared shitless.

When the man nods, you bring out a pair of gloves from your handbag and put them on, forcing yourself to remain calm as you pick up the pendant.

“What a beautiful work of art you are baby. Red jasper, my favorite!” Your excited words break the silence and you look up at the man in front of you with a smile, feeling your hands sweat when he slowly returns the expression.

Got you.

“Greek is marvelous...crystal clear, grammatically correct, unique placement.” It’s as silent as a cemetery and Marcus watches you closely as you narrow your eyes and adjust the stone under the light. If he wasn’t dealing with a criminal and a potentially stolen artifact, he would have told you how beautiful you looked when you were deep in the middle of a task.

“Hmm, what is this 6th century-ish spell? Oh my bad, no no no, I tend to mix them up sometimes. It’s definitely a 7th century formula.” You make an awkward face and watch as Lydia shakes her head at your little mix up.

“Now, let’s see what you got on the other side sweetheart.” You carefully turn the amulet around in the palm of your hand and barely hold back from gasping dramatically.

“My god...what a goddamn sight...oh oops sorry, that was probably blasphemous. A perfectly etched crucifixion...cross with 4 sides, with a plaque at the top...and of course, can’t forget the clothed Christ. The detail on this is truly unlike anything I’ve ever seen, down to the ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare’ around the figure. Where did you say you found it again?” You casually ask as you continue to inspect the stone, almost laughing when the man responds immediately to your question.

“Mount Athos.” Marcus turns to his team in shock. You’d managed to get the information out of him so easily while they spent an entire day trying to get him to say anything. It was a little funny how at ease the man seemed now, leaning forward towards you as you flipped the stone around.

“Ohh the hub of Eastern monasteries. Boy is this the most valuable artifact I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at then.” You set it down on the cloth and wrap it up before taking your gloves off and leaning back on the chair.

“See, told you its one of a kind. No one’s ever found anything like it before.” The man beams at you before he takes the object and puts it back in his jacket.

“Oh yeah it’s one of a kind alright...because it’s the most fake amulet I’ve ever had the misfortune of examining. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this disappointed in my life. And here I thought another one of these was out there. Did you even bother to do any research on this?” You frown at him and cross your arms in irritation, completely missing Marcus’ reaction and how he turns to Lydia to confirm that yes, you just said that it was a fake artifact.

“W-what?”

“I’d love to know where you got the red jasper because you could have fooled me with that. Let’s break this down shall we? The Greek is perfect, too perfect if I’m being honest. You never have grammatically correct syntax etched on a magical amulet, let alone proper diction. Oh and you should have probably used Classical Greek instead of modern Greek, like were you even trying? Really bad move to use a 7th century formula with a non-altered 6th century spell. The formula didn’t even exist yet!” You tilt your head to the side and watch as the man in front of you begins to fidget. His smile is replaced with a shocked expression and you watch as it slowly becomes angry.

Marcus was speechless. He never saw this coming and was looking at you with a mixture of awe and surprise at the turn of events. He could only stare at you as he took in your energy, the same confidence and intelligence he saw earlier in the day when he walked into your lecture.

“As for the back, you never get 4-sided crosses with these, only three, and the head of Christ makes up the fourth which you don’t actually see because of his head. No plaque, too detailed and non-existent in protection spells. Christ is always nude on magical amulets by the way...yes it’s weird, but it’s a fucking amulet and he was just some extra deity. And finally, never, ever, write out ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare.’ You write the acronym IXOYE.” You flip open the folder that was in front of you and grab a sharpie from Marcus’ file, circling the first letter of each Greek word and holding it up as if he was one of your students and you were trying to lecture him.

“Don’t even get me started on your provenance. Mount Athos? I mean for fuck’s sake, Constanza would have been a better option. At least we actually found amulets out there. How much was he asking for this?” You turn to Marcus and completely miss the starstruck eyes he’s giving you. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he finally realizes that you asked him a question.

“Uhhh 3 mil.”

“Oh boy...yeah, this is worth jack shit. Wouldn’t even do it’s intended job if you actually wore it as a protection pendant.” You watch as the man’s expression changes from anger to outrage and you barely have any time to push away your chair and hide behind Marcus before the man tries to jump on top of the table towards you. It takes Ethan and Noah approximately five seconds to tackle him down before they take him out of the room. You watch as they reach for the amulet in his pocket and give it to Henry just as they push him out.

You’re still coming down from the adrenaline rush when Marcus turns around and asks you if you are alright. As soon as you see the gun in his hands, your hold on his jacket tightens and you gulp nervously when you meet his eyes. He apologizes quickly once he sees where you’re looking and quickly puts the gun back in its holster.

“You okay?” Marcus holds your wrist and rubs his thumb over your pulse point until you begin to relax. You fix your jacket and take a deep breath before you meet his eyes, almost gasping when you see how dark and oddly calming they are.

“Didn’t think a consultation would get this exciting but uhh, yeah I’m good. I think.” You try to laugh it off but looking at the object in Henry’s hand makes you realize that the last five minutes did really happen and you actually managed to piss off someone to the point where he tried to attack you.

“And we were worried it was stolen…” Lydia shakes her head when she takes the amulet and swirls it around in her hand.

“I might be wrong but I think you should try to find out who made it, especially because of the red jasper. This came real close to a fake. And you should also try to date it as well...there might be more of these out there.” You smile when Lydia agrees and collects the folders on the table, thanking you on her way out.

“My pleasure...apart from that last bit.” You laugh it off and watch as she exits the conference room with Henry.

“So…” You turn to Marcus and whisper a quick thank you when he hands you your bag.

“So, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to consult on this case. I- I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that this happened. It’s not always like this, I promise. The exciting stuff usually happens when we find guys like him in abandoned warehouses.” Marcus continues to word vomit as he leads you back to his office.

“It’s okay really. My advisor always warned me about this.”

“About working with the FBI?”

“No no, about rambling so much that I piss off someone to the point where they try to kill me.” You’re taken aback by Marcus’ laugh and can’t help but giggle along with him as he leans back in his chair and continues to laugh.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t work with us again?” There’s something in his voice that doesn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach and you place your hand on your chest dramatically as you bat your eyes at him.

“Why Agent Pike, are you trying to recruit me to the FBI?” You ask sarcastically and watch as he shrugs his shoulders before shutting off his computer and standing up.

“Just a consult here and there, should we meet another Greco-Roman artifact? Or...a fake one I guess.” You swallow the lump in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you and hope that you’re not misreading any signs.

“Can I take you out to dinner? As a thank you and an apology for putting your life in danger?” Marcus is reluctant to ask but he takes the leap of faith and hopes that you wouldn’t reject him.

“I- actually...in all honesty, I don’t think I’ll do well in public after that whole thing.” You gesture towards the outside offices, and Marcus nods in disappointment and contemplates on whether he should ask you to dinner some other time. You never give him a chance to follow-up though.

“How about take-out at my place?” You stand up and smile when you see his eyes beam with excitement as he fixes his tie and motions towards the door.

“Lead the way doctor.” You flush under the title and walk ahead so he doesn’t notice the obvious effect he’s having on you. You glance at Marcus every now and then as you make your way out of the building and towards his car.

You chat about random things as he drives through the busy streets, and you feel your heart skip a beat when he says something scandalous about your favorite Impressionist artwork, not because of the comment but because of the way he winks at you as he slides his hand to your thighs and nudges them to let you know he was just joking. You hope that Marcus asks for your number by the end of the night, maybe even invite you to dinner again, because if you’re being honest, it’s been a while since you met a decent guy and he’s been checking all of your boxes all day long.

Kind. Intelligent. Hard-working. Funny. And of course, attractive. There was something about the way he smiles and you kept on replaying the moment he hid you behind him and continued to ask if you were alright.

“What do you mean you don’t like Bal du moulin de la Galette? It’s one of the most magnificent paintings out there. Best of Renoir’s if you ask me.” You unlock the door and switch on the lights, throwing your coat and bag on the wall before telling Marcus to make himself at him. He takes his jacket off and hangs it as well, turning around to continue his argument.

“Listen, I’m just not a crowd kind of guy. I’m more of a Paris Street, Rainy Day man okay so-”

“Why am I not surprised by that?” You laugh as you bring him a cup of water, hoping you were being subtle as you continued to check out the gun resting in his holster. Shaking your head, you take your phone out again and tell him that it’ll take you a few minutes to order pizza since neither of you can make up your mind.

Marcus looks around when you walk away to place the order, his eyes taking in the three bookshelves behind your couch. It’s almost as if the office space wasn’t enough so you had to make more room for all of your textbooks and novels. Maybe it was the other way around…

He takes a sip of water and glances to the side, instantly choking on the liquid when his eyes zero in on the three watercolor paintings hanging above your television. Marcus blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. He approaches the wall and looks between the three artworks, unable to tear his gaze away. He notices new details every time he focuses on a different corner of each painting, and his pants suddenly feel uncomfortable when he shifts closer.

“Pizza will be here in thirty-ish minutes and-” You almost drop the phone when Marcus jumps back and almost trips over his own feet. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” When you walk closer and see the blush creeping down his neck, you can’t help but giggle and glance at your paintings, almost as if you were taunting him into commenting on your choice in decoration.

“These are...interesting.” Marcus avoids looking at them when you stand next to him, merely pointing to the side as he looks at you.

“Oh no...here we go. I know what that means. You don’t like them?” You tilt your head to the side and hold back from smiling when he takes a long sip of water before he sets down the glass.

“N-no no, that’s not...I didn’t mean- I just...it’s a bold choice.” His stutter makes you laugh even harder and you apologize when his blush deepens. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s always really funny when people come over because I get all kinds of reactions but you’re definitely the first guy that doesn’t call me a slut because I have pornographic paintings hanging in my living room.”

“Why not? The Dutch lords and the Italian merchants did it, why can’t you?” Marcus is almost offended by the remark and he forgets all about the awkwardness of the paintings when he sees you nod aggressively in agreement.

“Exactly!? Why is a guy allowed to hang an Odalisque in his home but I can’t hang some BDSM scenes?” You take the glass from the table and ask him if he wants more. Marcus shakes his head and quickly attempts to fix himself through his pants before you return.

“So you like them then?” You lounge on one chair and wait for Marcus to sit on the couch before you ask him.

“It’s a different aesthetic I think, and it somehow goes well with your bookshelves. Something about textbooks and nude paintings depicting sex just goes together...can’t explain how. And kudos to the artist too! The brushstrokes, the layering, the complementary colors...the scenes and positions are so natural. They’re perfect combinations. Did you pick them or did you commission them?”

“Oh I commissioned two of them. The third was just too good to not order. I’ll ask you this then, which ones do you think I commissioned?” Marcus glances to the canvases again and grows quiet for a few moments, his eyes switching from one painting to another before he meets your gaze.

“I think you commissioned the two on the left.”

“Why?” You try to hide how impressed you are by how he correctly figured you out, almost cringing when the question leaves your mouth before you could stop yourself. As much as you enjoy where this conversation was going, you really hope this wouldn’t lead to some misogynistic response on his part. Just as Marcus is about to respond, the doorbell rings and you tell him you’ll be right back.

Marcus thanks the heavens that the pizza arrives because he isn’t sure how he could respond to that question without accidentally giving his train of thoughts away. When you come back with plates and napkins, Marcus thanks you and proceeds to separate the pizza slices.

“It was the closest I could get to owning something that resembled the area I study.” You say through chewing and Marcus furrows his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate on your comment.

“Nudity I mean. I can’t afford sculptures so I settled with these.”

“They are beautiful. And the positions are-” Marcus stops abruptly when he realizes that his inner monologue just rolled off of his tongue.

“Go on, what were you going to say?”

“I- uh, I just think that the positions are intimate. And they become more intimate the longer you look at them.” He chews faster when you nod and take another slice of pizza.

“You have a favorite?” You ask and pretend you aren’t paying attention to every single word he says. You get the sense that he has a lot to say about the paintings but is choosing to hold back so you don’t get the wrong idea about why he is having dinner with you in your apartment after only knowing you for a few hours.

“Definitely the middle one.” His answer surprises you, especially because the one on the right has handcuffs and you genuinely thought he’d be into that because of his line of work.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh...I- this might sound weird but I think the scene is intense and- and close? Private? I’m not sure what it is I’m trying to say but the fact that she’s completely nude except for the panties around her thighs while he’s fully clothed and is focusing on her pleasure is- it’s intimate. And the hand on her back is a mixture of dominance and care, like he’s letting her know that she has his undivided attention but she has to behave for him.” You’re not sure when exactly you stopped eating and you clear your throat when you realize that Marcus was looking at you to gauge your reaction.

“Y-yeah that...ahuh.” Something about the way he says the word ‘behave’ twists your insides and you immediately stand up and head to the kitchen, whispering something about needing to wash down the food with something. Marcus eats quietly and hopes he hasn’t just made things even more awkward. When you come back and hand him a glass of red wine, Marcus relaxes and continues to eat.

“Have you ever drawn something like this?” You shake your head as you take a sip of the wine, laying against the back of the couch and crossing your legs.

“I wish. Human anatomy is so fascinating I think. I sometimes get this adrenaline rush when I look at the far right one and I tell myself that I’ll sketch all the risque and open positions I can think of but then I remember how long it would take me to finish one piece and I- I don’t have time for that sadly.”

“You can always start out with simpler ones? Maybe solo pieces, and move up from there.” Marcus mirrors you and sits back with the wine glass in his hand.

“Yeah, but I just love this kind of genre so much. It needs to be passionate, and sexy and out there you know.” Marcus smiles at the energetic response, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s had a cup of wine and found chatting about your choice in decoration less awkward.

“I get you. It’s why that lifestyle is interesting to so many people. The whole dynamic, whether we’re talking about the figures in the scene or actual partners, is based on that trust. You- you have to create that sense of trust and comfort for the scene to be enjoyable...pleasurable. It’s not as easy as some think it to be. As a Dom, you have to be aware of your partner at all times and the effect you have on them. And the same goes for a Sub too. You need to ensure that your Dom knows how much trust you put in them and the level of dedication that’s going into the scene. Both parties are depending on each other and it’s- it’s amazing.” Marcus smiles when he notices the intensity swimming in your eyes and he gives you a few seconds to collect your bearings before he asks his next question.

“Would you draw something as intimate as that?” He breaks the silence and watches your train of thought come and go.

“Would you?” You throw the question right back at him, holding in a breath when you see him lean forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I would...but only if I have the right model.” Marcus doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but he can’t find it in himself to break whatever bubble the two of you found yourselves in. You’re silent for a few moments, long enough for Marcus to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossed the line.

But then you’re smiling at him mischievously, chugging down the rest of the wine before standing up and heading towards the hallway.

“I have an easel and some 16x20 papers lying around...I hope you don’t mind working with chalk.” You throw back at him before you walk down the hallway and Marcus has to give himself a quick pep talk before he follows you. He slowly makes his way into your bedroom and stands at the doorstep until you allow him to come in.

“I think the lighting is best in this corner but you’ll be the one working so sit wherever you prefer.” You bring over a chair and set it in front of the easel before you grab the large box of supplies and pull out all the chalk sticks that you have. Marcus nods in silence as he pushes the easel closer to your bed and begins to choose which of the chalk sticks he wants. There is a variety of shapes and sizes, and he’s not sure if he should start out bold or if he should ease himself into this. It’s been a while since he’s drawn a model and he really doesn’t want to screw up, especially because it is you.

Marcus is so busy preparing his workstation that he doesn’t notice you stripping off your clothes. You keep your eyes on him and find the little scrunch he does with his eyebrows when he focuses on something endearing. Taking a deep breath, you take off your bra and panties before laying on the bed and getting in a comfortable position. Your movements are minimal, and you stretch out your legs in wait for him. You fight the part of you that’s yelling at you to cover yourself and keep your focus on him to gauge his reaction.

“Pose however you want and we can work on the postures once we-” The words die in his throat as soon as he looks up from the easel and sees your state of dress, or lack thereof. The thick chalk stick he’s holding between his fingers snaps in half and breaks the blanket of silence that fell on the room. He visibly gulps and doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes trail down your form slowly before they return to look into your dilated ones. Marcus knows for a fact that the image of your heaving chest and hardened nipples will forever be etched in his mind.

“I- uhh, are you...c-comfortable?” He hates how much he’s stuttering and you smile at him when you notice how he is focusing on the wall behind you and not you.

You look around for a few moments, grabbing a couple of pillows and placing them behind your back before you stretch out one leg and bend the other one to your chest. Marcus almost chokes on his breath when he sees how open you are being with him but he says nothing and turns his attention to the blank piece of paper underneath his hand.

“I’m ready.” Your voice brings him out of his stupor and he nods briefly as he tries to reason with himself. He cannot draw you unless he looks at you. But he is well aware of the hardening predicament he’s currently suffering from and he’s sure you probably noticed by now the effect you were having on him.

“I won’t tell you how to do your job Agent, but artists usually have to look at the models they’re drawing to...you know, draw them.” Marcus rolls his eyes at the teasing remark, briefly glancing at you with a raised eyebrow before he begins to softly outline the shape of your shoulders. His cock twitches in his pants and he tries his hardest to not squirm too much in his seat. But every time his eyes move towards your nude form laying not five feet away from him, he silently curses himself and pretends he’s fine and that he isn’t imagining pushing you down and shoving his tongue deep into your wet cunt.

“Are you usually this quiet when you’re sketching, Agent Pike?” Something about the way you’re addressing him makes him clench his jaw tightly and he unintentionally whispers a little louder than he intends in response.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Your giggles let him know that you heard his remark and he is sure his face is growing a deeper shade of red but he shrugs his shoulders and ignores your obvious amusement. Marcus swallows the lump in his throat as he shifts his focus below your neck, parting his lips when he notices the tilt of your head from his peripheral vision as he ceases all movement and continues to stare at your chest.

“Oh sorry, is my arm in the way,” you lower your arms and move them behind you to support your weight, never breaking eye contact with him as you rock your bent leg back and forth and give him a full view of your most intimate parts.

Marcus is almost shaking in his seat at the sight of your breasts, unaware that he’s harshly rubbing the chalk stick with his thumb the more your leg sways to the side and reveals the outer folds of your pussy.

“P-perfect, thank you.” He whispers and returns to the sheet in front of him, biting into his lower lip as he rolls the chalk across and sketches the curves of your breasts. For a moment, he forgets what he is doing and narrows his eyes at the shapes in front of him before he smudges the black material across to shade in the skin. He looks back and forth for a couple of minutes until he’s happy with the shading of your body.

You marvel at how he’s managing to keep it together for this long when all you can think about is begging for him to fuck you into the mattress. You thought it would be easy for him to break but ever the gentleman, he takes the task seriously and tries his hardest to not dwell on your skin for longer than necessary.

A thought comes through your mind and you smile to yourself as you shift your bent leg to the side and move the other one until it falls from the side of the bed. You stare at him and hope this is what finally does the trick. And you don’t have to wait for too long because the next time Marcus looks at you, he takes a double-take and doesn’t bother to hide how he’s only focusing on the skin between your thighs.

“I thought it would be easier for you, you know. Easier access and everything.” You’re not sure what you’re going on about but you can tell that it’s taking every ounce of control in his body to not pounce on you. You hold your breath when Marcus stands up and meets your eyes, and you think this is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But then he’s freeing the paper from the easel and moving towards you, his expression never once giving his plan away. You gulp when he kneels at the foot of your bed and sets the paper between your thighs.

“You’re right, easier access,” Marcus says as he brings the chalk down on the paper and sketches your thighs, not bothering for propriety as his eyes zero in on your slit. You know you’re wet and you can feel slick easing down your folds but you don’t move a muscle, watching him as he expertly outlines your skin before he rubs the chalk with his thumb to shade the area again.

“It’s not quite how I want it…” His remark makes you shiver and you’re about to beg him to forgo the sketch when he leans forward and nudges your legs apart, perhaps a little carelessly, before he collects your arousal with his middle finger and swipes it across your folds. You’re shocked by the turn of events and barely hold back from moaning as he dips the clean finger into your pussy and rubs your walls for a few more seconds, his soft brown eyes turning dangerous as pushes his finger a little deeper and bites his lower lip when he feels you clenching around him. Marcus turns his attention back to you, his jaw tensing when he sees sheer bliss etched on your expression. Your little gasps are music to his ears and just as he feels your hips moving against him, he pulls his hand away.

You watch him like a hawk as he inspects his finger, gasping when he smudges at the chalk on the sketch to create darker shades around your center.

“Hmm, that’s more like it.” Marcus turns to you and smirks when he sees your parted lips turn into a frown.

“Do you not like it?” He feigns ignorance and raises an eyebrow when your frown deepens as you move back into your pillows. You lean back but continue to hold his gaze as you part your thighs and lazily stroke your cunt. Marcus slowly puts down the paper and chalk onto the floor and stands up just as you begin to pinch your nipples.

“Please…” Your whispered plea shoots straight to his cock and he laughs when it turns into a whine once he makes his way to the bathroom in your room. He says nothing as he quickly washes his hands and dries them before moving back and standing next to your bed.

You don’t stop touching yourself, hoping the needy sight of you is all the push he needs to take what he wants.

“What’s your safeword doctor?” Marcus keeps his hands in his pockets as he trails his eyes down your shivering body. He’s itching to touch you but he remains still and waits for confirmation that you do, in fact, want this as much as him. A part of him knows that the two of you should probably slow down and perhaps discuss whatever this is before you go any further. But it feels right being here with you. And he doesn’t want to give it up just yet.

“J-Jasper.” Your voice breaks when you see the hunger swimming in his eyes and you shift to the center of your bed as Marcus kicks off his shoes before taking off his socks.

“Hmm.” Marcus hums as he takes off the holster from his belt and quietly places the gun on your nightstand. When he turns back and sees you watching the gun and increasing your movements, he groans down at you before walking around the bed.

“Maybe another time baby...when you and I are a little more acquainted with each other.” You flush at the implications behind his words and nod at him. You watch as he begins to roll up his sleeves and your anticipation grows with each inch of skin he reveals.

“You look so pretty sweetheart, all needy and desperate for my touch. Do you want to cum baby?” Marcus asks teasingly and you nod frantically as you begin to push two fingers into your cunt.

“Nuh uh, use your words. I’ll let it go this time but from now on, you use your words if you want something from me.” His tone is less gentle and your inner walls spasm at the thought of hearing that same commanding voice telling you to get on your knees for him.

“S-sorry yes...yes please. I- I want to cum, please.” Marcus smiles in amusement as he steps closer to the bed until his knees touch the mattress.

“Good girl. Now, if you really want to cum, then you better come here and suck me off. Be a good girl for me and show me what that sweet fucking mouth of yours can do.” His chest puffs out proudly when he sees how quickly you’re moving to please him. You lay on your stomach and palm him through his pants, moaning along with him when you find him hard and ready for you.

“May I undress you?”

“Go on sweetheart, take what you want.” Marcus caresses your cheek as you excitedly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn’t dare look away as you shove his pants down his thighs before leaning forward and nuzzling your nose into the bulge of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck baby, are you trying to kill me?” You giggle and shake your head in response, purposely rubbing his length with your nose just before you feel his fingers combing through your hair and tugging on it.

“Remember sweetheart...bad girls don’t get to cum. Stop your teasing before I shove my cock down your throat.” Marcus pulls on your hair harshly and groans when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Is that a promise Agent Pike?” You know you’re pushing his buttons and don’t hold back from gasping his name as he rolls you onto your back and aggressively pushes his boxer briefs down far enough to free his cock. He’s not really a vain man but seeing you lick your lips and inch closer to him as you stare at his hard dick makes him just a little cocky.

“Go on baby, open your mouth. Part those pretty fucking lips for me.” Marcus pats your lips softly and shivers when you respond to him right before you shut your eyes and wait for him to give you his cock.

“Yes sir.”

His knees buckle for a second the moment you take his tip into your mouth and suck on it. Marcus is torn between throwing his head back to enjoy the softness of your mouth and keeping his eyes on you as you suck on his cock. He leans forward and bites his cheek when you relax your throat and take more of his cock down your throat.

“P-part your legs for me baby please. Let me- oh fuck, your mouth is made of magic sweetheart. Let me- let me see how wet that pretty cunt is.” Marcus is already breathing heavily and he furrows his eyebrows in focus, not wanting to end this night early. You swallow around him a few times and hum when you feel his hand cupping your breasts while the other rests around your throat.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you try to take him down as deep as possible just as you part your thighs and begin to play with your pussy. Marcus groans and swears above you as you work him expertly and he can’t hold back from pushing the palm of his hand a little harder on your throat. He can feel his cock passing across your pharynx and moans your name over and over again when he looks down and sees drool rolling down your cheeks.

“Ahh fuck oh god, s-sweetheart you’re a fucking dream. W-where have you been all my life?” Marcus continues to kneed at your tits, but when he gets a little irritated when he sees your fingers rubbing your clit. Without warning, he leans forward as far as he can and slaps your hand away, replacing it with his own and biting his cheek when he finds you soaking.

“Shit baby, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” You hum around him and twitch in surprise when you feel two of his thick fingers pushing past your wet folds and into your cunt. You’re already so close to coming from his teasing and you whimper when he nudges your thighs apart aggressively.

“Keep those legs open for me baby. Shit, the smell of you is fucking intoxicating. Fuck, that it’s, get on your hands and knees for me.” Marcus moves away and silences you with one look when you start to whine and reach for his cock.

“Unless you want to call it a night, you’ll get on your fucking hands and knees for me. Shit baby I’ve wanted to shove my tongue in that pussy as soon as you stripped for me.” He never breaks eye contact as he kicks away his pants and briefs before he makes quick work of his shirt. You quickly turn around and bite into your wrist as you get on all fours and try to look at him through your elbow. You reach down and ease two fingers into your cunt as you take in his broad shoulders and lean form. You swear his muscles flex the longer you stare at him and when you finally look at him, you’re a little embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him.

“Look at you, like a bitch in heat.” Regret rolls off of him as soon as he registers what he just said. An apology is on the tip of his tongue but then you’re arching your back and shifting closer to him, giving him a show as you curve your knuckles to try and hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“Oh aren’t you the prettiest sweetheart in the world.” You moan his name when he caresses your back and kneels behind you, laying soft kisses across your back as he palms and lightly smacks your ass. Marcus removes your hand away slowly but not before licking your fingers and humming around them as the taste of you fills his mouth.

“Marcus please...I- I need you inside me.”

“What do you need from me? You want my tongue and fingers? Or do you think this cunt is ready to take my cock?” Marcus nips at your skin and pushes a hand on your lower back when you try and move away from him.

“W-whatever you want...just- need to feel you inside me. I don’t care, please. Oh fuck...please.” You squeal when Marcus spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your slit right before licking across your cunt. You fist your hands into the sheets and bite down on your wrist when you feel his nose nudge at your entrance as his tongue flicks your engorged clit.

“Good answer sweetheart,” you hear him whisper just as he kisses across your folds and dips his tongue into your core. You’re already shaking with need and rock back against him, hoping he’d end your agony and give you his fingers as well. Marcus is losing his mind and he tries his hardest to focus on pleasuring you. But it’s so hard to hold back when you’re whimpering at his touch and shoving your pussy in his face to get more friction.

“Stop moving,” Marcus growls against you, and you cry out his name when his palms land on your ass cheeks three consecutive times before he rubs the reddening skin.

“Oh god, your tongue feels so good Marcus. D-don’t stop, please. I want to cum, l-let me cum. You’re so fucking- ahh s-shit.” You think you feel him smile against you as he pushes two fingers into your pussy but you can’t be sure because you suddenly feel full. Fuck, and it’s only his fingers.

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He slowly parts you with his fingers and groans when he feels you squeezing his fingers. When you try to move against him again, Marcus slithers his hand across your back and grabs your neck, pushing your face into the bed as he leans over to whisper in your ears.

“You’re being such a bad girl tonight. I won’t give you another warning baby. Move again and I won’t fuck you.” You shiver when you hear his hoarse voice on your ears, grasping the pillows as hard as you can when he pushes his fingers as deep as possible and curls his knuckles.

“N-no please...I’m s-sorry- ahh gahd I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Marcus is pleased with the effect he’s clearly having on you and almost gives in. But he wants you to cum before he takes you. From the looks of it, you aren’t looking for anything gentle, and with how hard he is, has been for the entire day, he doesn’t have the self-control to be anything but rough.

“Good girl...sweet fucking girl.” You force yourself to remain immobile as you feel him reaching deeper and applying more pressure on your spongy walls. The hand on your neck moves to your back and massages your heated skin. It takes you a while to realize that he’s reenacting the paintings in your living room and the thought shakes you to your core. Before you can even warn him, you feel a familiar pressure growing in the depths of your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as you lose yourself to the sudden swelling sensation. You gasp his name over and over again as you cum around his fingers, and Marcus fists his hand in your hair when he feels you shuddering beneath him.

He’s shocked at how quickly you unravel at his ministrations and he doesn’t look away as he brushes his thumb against your clit and watches your body fight to not move away from him.

“M-Marcus wait- I...too much.” You can barely form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought, and you bite into the sheets when you feel his scruff scratch your skin deliciously as he licks off your juices.

“Use your safeword sweetheart and I’ll stop. But you came without asking so now I have to punish you...fuck, you taste as good as you smell baby, shit, maybe even better.” Marcus slows down but continues to move his digits across your tightening walls and when you say nothing, he sits up and twists his hand, waiting for your breathing to slow down before he begins to fuck you with his fingers.

“Oh oh f-fuck I- Marcus M-Marcus oh god...yes please fuck ahh I- I’m…” You try to warn him but he doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your abused cunt until he feels you tightening around him again.

“Beg!”

“Can I- oh god, can I cum? Please fuck, I- I can’t s-stah ahh fuck.” You reach around and dig your nails into the hand fisting in your hair. You try to warn him again of what’s about to happen but he doesn’t give you a chance, picking up the pace just as he curves his digits and rubs at your sensitive spot.

“Drench me baby.” It’s all you need to fall over the edge again and your vision whites out as you convulse around him. Marcus smiles proudly when you listen to his command but his expression changes to one of awe when he feels you gush around his hand and wet his arm and thighs. He doesn’t stop once, completely captivated by the sight of your juices flowing around him so easily. When you try to move up the bed, Marcus lets go of your neck and pushes down on your lower back to keep you still. The damp spot beneath you is growing and something primal takes over Marcus. He wants nothing more than to soak the entire bed.

But he snaps out of his haze when you cry out his name and beg him to slow down. He looks at you as he gradually comes to a halt but keeps his fingers in your pussy. Marcus massages your muscles as he eases his wet fingers out of you and carefully maneuvers you until you’re laying on your back. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness and almost jump away when you feel his tongue passing across the skin of your thighs. When you finally have enough mind to look at him, you’re taken aback by the sheer bliss written on his face as he closes his eyes and cleans you up. Your eyes widen in horror and embarrassment when you look at his glistening skin and you call for him shyly to grab his attention.

“I-I’m so sorry...I- I’ve never-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and the fact that I’m the first to make you squirt...best feedback I’ve ever gotten.” Marcus cuts you off as he licks at his forearm and fingers before he sits up behind you. You find his gaze much more intense than before and you hide behind your arm to avoid it.

“Marcus, stop.” He laughs at your sudden shyness and leans over to pull your arms away from your face.

“Please baby, don’t hide from me. Please.” You feel exposed underneath him and it’s a stupid thought considering what the two of you have been doing so far. But something about the way he’s staring at you with those deep, brown, soulful eyes makes you want to hide under the sheets. But instead, you take his hand and pull him close until he’s flush against you.

“K-kiss me.” You watch as his expression intensifies just as he leans forward and molds his lips with yours. You expected him to be rough but the way he parts his lips and allows you access to his mouth leaves you breathless. His scruff and mustache heighten the sensation and you instantly shove your tongue in his mouth when he melts against you. You hum when you finally taste yourself on his tongue and Marcus growls as the kiss grows more desperate. Just as you run out of breath, Marcus pulls away and holds back from smiling when you chase after him.

“Sweetheart, c-can I have you?” You’re amazed by how he’s still asking you if you want to do this even after the events of the past hour or so.

“Yes, please.” You respond as you push him off to resume your previous position again. Marcus feels his cock harden at the sight of you on your knees for him. But the moment shatters into a million pieces when he looks down and realizes that he doesn’t have any condoms.

“Fuck.” He hisses and begins to move away when he feels your hands reach for his thighs to stop him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I didn’t think this would...I don’t have any condoms baby.” You stare at him for a few seconds before you break the silence and hope he doesn’t think any less of you. “I was tested after the last time and I’m clear. A-are you?” Marcus pins you with his eyes as he nods along. “I’m clean too...and, it’s been a while.” He hates to admit that last bit but he wants you to know that this, whatever it is, is serious.

“Same.” Your answer surprises him and he’s about to ask how that’s possible but forgets the question when you shift closer to him and dig your nails into his thighs to grab his attention.

“Fuck me.” The vulgar request sounds so pure rolling off of your tongue and Marcus pushes your knees wide open and settles between them. You continue to stare at him with hunger in your eyes as he strokes his cock a few times before he slides it across your wet slit. You’re already so sensitive from earlier but you can’t care less because you’ve only wanted to feel him inside you for the better half of the day. Marcus bites his lower lip and grasps your hips with one hand as he positions himself against your entrance and slowly pushes past your wet folds. He feels your walls already clenching around him and he hesitates for a moment as he moves his hands across your back to try and get you to loosen up.

“F-fuck...relax sweetheart. Relax for me please. I- I don’t- oh god, h-how are you this tight?” Your walls flutter around him when his hoarse, almost pained voice sounds through the room. “You’re doing so good baby, taking my cock in that pretty little cunt. Fuck, that’s it. Let me in sweetheart...could make you feel so good. Shit, that’s it.” Marcus cooes above you as he feels you slowly sucking him in. You sigh heavily when he finally sheathes himself completely inside you and it’s not until a few moments later that you realize he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Marcus, m-move. Fuck, just- move.” Your impatient groans make him twitch inside you and the two of you hiss when his hips jut forward at your gasped requests. His hands hold onto you a little harshly, squeezing the skin of your hips and making you giddy at the thought of seeing those bruises the following day.

“Just wait...please baby I- I don’t want to hurt you. You feel so fucking good around me and- and I...oh fuck, f-fuck...squeezing the shit out of me. Please I-”

“Fuck. Me.” You turn your head around enough to look at him and find the sight of his sweaty forehead and furrowed eyebrows intoxicating. He can sense your eyes on him and reluctantly looks down at you when you pronounce those two words, watching as you pierce him with a harsh gaze as you roll your hips against him.

“I- are you…”

“Fucking please...take what you want.” The desperate tone of your voice breaks him and he pulls away until the tip of his cock is nudged in between your folds before he snaps his hips forward aggressively.

You shut your eyes and cry into your pillows as Marcus lets go and pounds into you. He’s no longer trying to hold back and you feel proud of the effect you have on him. Thinking back to the past hour, you realize that Marcus was going out of his way to control himself and not hurt you. But with every brush of his cock against your inner walls, with every groaned swear word and whispered affirmation, you can’t help but beg for him to fuck you harder. To take you like a crazed man. Because now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of, you don’t want him to ease up on you.

“Shit baby, you’re perfect. Fucking perfect. Your cunt is begging for my cock sweetheart. Can you feel how deep I am? How deep this tight pussy is sucking me in?” Marcus nudges your knees a little farther apart as he plunges into you over and over again. You’re a moaning mess beneath him and as you try to reach back to hold onto his hands, Marcus lets go of your hips and grabs your wrists, using them as leverage to fuck you deeper.

You scream his name as his thrusts become relentless, the resonating sound of skin against skin reminding you of how sore you were going to feel for the rest of the week. You can’t really pay attention to what he’s saying anymore, choosing to focus on the way his dick fills you up completely and hits your special spot with precision. The thought of knowing that you’re at this man’s mercy and that he’s using you like he owns you makes you shudder and Marcus doesn’t realize you’re coming around him until he feels a pressure push out of you. He looks down and watches your cunt gushes on his cock and thighs again, the sight somehow even prettier the second time than the first.

He waits until you’re no longer convulsing in his arms before he thrusts his cock back into your pussy. Marcus leans down and wraps his arms around your front to bring you flush against his chest. Marcus brushes your hair aside and nuzzles into your neck as he begins to roll his hips against your ass, trying to drive his cock into you even further without hurting you. You reach around and pull on his hair when he bites on the juncture of your neck.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” The confession feels more intimate than anything he’s said to you thus far and you throw your head back and smile when his hands roam your front and settle on your navel.

“Marcus...please.”

“What do you need, baby? I’ll give you anything. Tell me...oh god, I- I’m so close.” Marcus kisses across your shoulder as one hand cups your breasts while the other descends to your clit. He feels you convulse around him but he doesn’t move his hand away, wanting to feel you cum one last time around his cock.

“I- I need you to cum for me...cum inside me. Fill me up baby...wanna feel you so deep inside me. Make a mess of my cunt. Please.”

“C-can you give me another?” He’s breathless, his pace faltering when he feels your walls squeeze around him tightly with every pass of his cock against your heated core.

‘I- I don’t think I can...too much baby.”

“Please, for me. Cum for me o-one last time...oh god, I’m close sweetheart. B-but I wanna cum with you. Please oh fuck- oh god, I- I’m fucking coming.” He growls into the crook of your neck as he rubs at your clit harshly, crying your name like a prayer as he feels you milk him dry. His thrusts are desperate and you pull on his hair harder than you intend when you feel his cum fill you up. Marcus can barely breathe as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy and feels you pulse around him. He continues to buck against you, the caveman mindset telling him to breed you and fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.

He stays motionless for a few minutes before he finally registers that you probably need to rest. As carefully as possible, Marcus pulls out and cradles your body against him as he lays you on your back. He looks down at you and smiles when he sees the mess he’s made between your thighs. He tries to get off the bed to bring you a cup of water and grab a wet towel when you reach out and pull him by his wrist.

“I need to clean you up sweetheart.” He tries to reason with you but you shake your head and pull harder on his hand so he could sit next to you.

“No just- come here. I need you. Please.” Marcus doesn’t have to be told twice. He lays down next to you and kisses your forehead when you cuddle into his arms. He draws circles on your shoulder and back when he feels your fingers play with his chest hair.

“Are you alright baby?” Marcus asks and pulls his head back when you hum a soft ‘yes.’ He searches your expression for any sign of discomfort, and when he finds none, he rests his head back again and lets you explore his skin.

“Hmm...did you know that hair was used in some ancient spells to ensure that the desired outcome occurred?” You break the silence after a while and Marcus furrows his eyebrows at you when you look up from his chest and meet his face.

“Uhh should I be worried Y/N?” He asks almost immediately and laughs when you panic and try to retract what you just said.

“Oh god sorry that- I didn’t mean...Jesus, I still need to work on my bedside manner.”

“I was kidding sweetheart. I actually enjoy listening to people talking about their interests, it’s a little calming. And no, I didn’t know that. What kind of spells are we talking about here?” You’re surprised by his response but say nothing and continue to follow the soft trail of hairs down his chest.

“Well, there are lots of curses that didn’t need hair but it was better if they were added...for efficacy and such. But the most common spells that required little curls like these were love spells, which technically are also curses but it sounds better when you say that it’s just a spell.”

“Are you trying to tell me something doctor?” Marcus can’t help but tease you again and he snorts when you sit up on your elbow and try to justify what you just said. He pulls you back into his arms and brushes your hair aside to take a better look at you.

“Oh no no, I just- I tend to think about this stuff at random times. Sorry. I swear I’m too much of a wimp to actually try anything. You never know if the desired outcome has any side effects...”

“No need to apologize baby. Besides, I don’t think you’ll ever need love magic with me.” The admission is out before he can stop himself and he cringes at himself, hoping that you don’t misunderstand him.

“Oh yeah, and why is that Agent Pike?” The hint of amusement in your tone lets him know that you didn’t mind teasing him back and he blinks a few times at the ceiling before he turns to gaze into your eyes.

“Well, you’re doing fine on your own being this amazing human being. You’re mesmerizing when you’re lecturing, you’re confident in your skills and knowledge, your intelligence is- I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface with the case today. And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen...we could work a bit on your art choices but-”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder and try to slither away from him but he’s too quick and wraps his arms around you before you can get off the bed.

“I’m kidding, I'm kidding...your art choices are the cherry on top.” Marcus nudges your nose with his and leans down to kiss you. He smiles when you moan beneath him. But the kiss is cut short when you push him away suddenly and narrow your eyes at him.

“You never told me how you knew which ones I commissioned.”

“Ugh no please, you’re going to think I’m a pervert.” Marcus falls back on the bed and tries to hide behind his arms.

“Oh yeah?” You slowly trail your hand down his stomach and wrap it around his cock. It’s all Marcus needs to lower his arm and look down to where you’re touching him. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back when you lean forward and nip at his jaw.

“B-baby fuck...oh god, please. I- I need a few more minutes and-”

“Tell me, please.” You cut him off with a bite to the shoulder, giggling when he thrusts up into your loose hold to get more friction.

“I- I was picturing the two of us...fuck, re-reenacting those scenes and those two jumped out more...more than the third.” He can barely speak through the haze you’ve put him in, and moans your name when you reach down and fondle his balls just as you whisper in his ears.

“How scandalous of you Agent Pike!”

“Sweetheart, please.” Marcus whines for you, the arm around your back pulling you flush to him and giving him perfect access to your breasts. He wraps his lips around one nipple and softly sucks on it as you continue to stroke his cock.

“Hmm, I like the sound of you begging...baby. Tell me, do you by any chance have your handcuffs on you?” The question catches him off guard, and he pulls away to look at you, finding a different kind of fire dancing behind your eyes.

“Fuck…I- uhh, they’re in the car. W-wait where are you going?” Marcus regrets his answer as soon as you let go of him and jump off of the bed. He watches as you run to the bathroom without answering him, only to return a few seconds later with bright red handcuffs clanking between your fingers.

“To get my own set Agent. Like you said, you and I need to get acquainted.” You unlock them as you walk back to the bed and straddle his thighs. Marcus looks at you with adoration and softly nods at you when you silently ask him if you could cuff him to the headboard of your bed.

“I’m yours sweetheart, take what you want.”

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