#like a little devil or dwelling in desires

[kiteou]

Temptation

[dark-konohagakure2]

imagine succubus!reader lurking in the phantomhive manor to find a victim for the night cause a succubus gets their energy if they take control but ends up getting caught and noncon-ed by sebastian until she cant take it anymore and begs to stop

UGHHH I HAVE BEEN STUCK WITH THIS IDEA SINCE THE DAY I IMAGINED IT 😭😭 petition for more succubus!reader fics 😔

tw: noncon, succubus!reader, size difference, tail pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, humiliation, creampie

All characters depicted are 18+

Sebastian takes his duties as the butler of the Phantomhive household very seriously, so seriously in fact that he doesn't ever sleep, mainly because demons don't need to sleep, but the fact still remains that there is no butler more diligent than Sebastian. His keen senses are able to pick up on the smallest of noises, even the faintest creak of the floorboards won't escape his notice. If a pin dropping doesn't go unnoticed by Sebastian, then there is no way in hell that he won't notice the presence of another hellish entity in his midst.

He is equal parts intrigued and concerned. Sebastian knows he can effortlessly dispatch any threat towards his master, bit even so the thought of another demon being after him is quite concerning. Never one to waste his time dwelling on any worries he might have, Sebastian will quickly do his part as a butler by apprehending the uninvited guest.

It's comically easy for Sebastian, he's not called a devil of a butler for nothing, he's able to use his superior strength to yank the little demon over to him when she's unaware, grabbing her by the pointy tail, which makes her hiss out in pain like a cat. Sebastian likes cats, even the ones with claws, but he sadly can't pet her, not when she's been such a bad girl as to even attempt to endanger his master.

Sebastian knows precisely how to deal with a naughty little succubus like herself, her kind feed off the sexual energy and desires of men, so he'll give her exactly what every succubus wants, he'll give it to her until she's begging him to stop. It's a fitting punishment for the demonic intruder, and it finally gives Sebastian the opportunity to stop feigning his humanity, even if just for a short while.

"Naughty thing, did you truly believe you could intrude oh my master's property without consequence? Oh how adorable~ I'll be sure to give you something to remember before sending you back to our home~"

His eyes are glowing unabashedly now, the glowing red orbs now having a feral intensity to them as he starts teasing the lesser demon, yanking on her tail roughly as he exposes her holes to his hellish gaze, teasing her sensitive pussy lips mercilessly before he decides to have his fill of her. Sebastian hasn't had a good fuck in a while, and certainly never with another demon that was aware of his true nature, so he's going to savor this rare treat.

Being centuries old, Sebastian is well versed in the art of making somebody come undone around his cock, whether they want to or not. His hips will slam against her from behind, his balls slapping against his ass while he fucks her raw, pulling on her tail like a bully pulling on the braids of a girl he likes. Sebastian's cock is long and thick, even in his human form, so it'll ram against her oversensitive womb with every thrust, forcing her into one mind breaking orgasm after the other.

Demons typically can't reproduce with one another, so Sebastian can cum inside of her to his heart's content without a care in the world, and he won't be satisfied with cumming inside of her just once, he's going to breed her until she's begging him to stop, and for hours after that too. It won't take long for her to go from confident and rude to whining and pleading with him to show mercy, but nothing will come of those pleas aside from her receiving even more mockery and even more loads shot into her already overstuffed womb.

He finds her reactions and pleading to be both adorable and pitiful, not to mention ironic; a creature who feeds off of sex now begging him to stop fucking her, her impish pussy overflowing with cum and weakly gripping his cock, fucked loose from the brutal pounding she's getting. He definitely won't be stopping anymore despite her pleas, after all, lesser demons make lovely fucktoys.

"Oh my~ begging already, little one? How sad, your kind usually loves getting ravished so, you truly are a disgrace from all demonkind~! How cute~!"

But alas, he can't keep this adorable little kitten as a house pet as much as he wants to, his young master would never allow such a thing, but Sebastian takes pride in the fact that he successfully subdued another interloper, and she won't mess with him again, that is unless she wants her holes destroyed again.

[yuellii]

allowed heaven, fill the empty me

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ;; a world of secrecy and stuttered glances in which you cannot proclaim the man that is rightfully yours ( but for some, he would rather die just to claim you as his )

feat. priest! zhongli, psychiatrist! baizhu, prison warden! wriothesley, master! ayato ( separately )

notes. completely SFW, zhongli’s is a bit suggestive; baizhu’s is written kinda darker, arranged marriage and non-sexual infidelity ( ayato ), religious themes ( zhongli ), manipulated dependency + family issues ( baizhu )

ZHONGLI.

He lights a dim candle in the darkness. Perhaps it was too much of an allowance from the ever-so knowledgeable priest.

But it allows him to see you, nevertheless; you, with your wrists bloodily bound in front of your body, rows of rosaries with crosses in between each bead. They’re tight, they burn your skin with a cast of holiness he himself bestowed, for any trace of the Gods would rightfully etch into the body of a demon like you.

And yet, you still flash him the sickest of grins, little fang in your mouth and eyes of the devil looking at him with such excitement he wishes was not there. “You came down here?” you almost laughed, wrists writhing against their restraints as you angled your head to tilt up from the cold, stone dungeon floor. “All the way down here, just to see me?”

It truly was such a long way down where he kept you for now, locked far below at the deepest dwellings under the cathedral. No one must know the head priest was keeping a demon on a leash under such golden grounds.

“I could have you crucified,” he threatens with a glare, though even he himself knows it is one not upheld.

You smiled, “But you won’t.”

He hated that grin of yours. It pulled at the black and gold robes that adorned his body in a way that was sinful—an entity in which his restrictions as a priest could not reach. There was a fire much more ferocious than this dim candle carried carelessly in his hands. Such a spark was gifted from yourself to his growing desire just to set you free.

“Come a little closer,” you called out, quieter than before, “won’t you, Father Priest?”

There was not any fear to be held against you, not with the gold cross hanging from his neck or the pure water he carried around protecting his aura. But there was a fear for himself. For if he found himself closer, still, he doesn’t know if he’d control himself to keep you bounded. This was the way of demons, so tempting—even to a respected man well under faith like himself.

Perhaps he didn’t know quite yet you already owned his soul the moment he spared you.

He found himself kneeling before you, suddenly not caring for the dirty stone coming in contact with the purity of his clothes. You, in contrast, we’re all beaten, bruised, and bloodied from being locked down here, bound by the ropes of the Gods that the priest himself tied on you. And somehow, the sight of you like this only made him crave for you even more.

“Closer.” His stomach dropped at the tantalizing smirk on your face.

And when the feeling of your breath hit his face only inches away, his heart raced, and that was when he knew it was too late. Your lips captured his like a kiss from Judas, the taste of iron immediately filling his senses. And yet, he found it delightful. So grotesque and so sinful, and yet he was relishing in the taste of your lips like it was the last supper of his faith. If the Gods could see him now, on his knees and mouth locked with the devil, he was not sure if he’d be begging for forgiveness.

And when you finally let go, pulling back your head to look at him, you could already tell from the shift in his eyes alone that he was now a man of sin.

BAIZHU.

“I got you something.”

A packaged wrap of paint was placed into your hands as your psychiatrist sat down on the couch in front of you. He crossed his legs with a small smile on his face, though his eyes were clouded with certain expectations. Scrutinizing gaze, it was akin to a vulture.

Your eyes considerably lighten up in naivety. “Thank you, Doctor! My parents wouldn’t let me buy this set…”

“I figured,” he laughed off. And he did so with that same smile on his face, eyes even closing to show a false crinkle at the corner of his lids—a fabricated happiness that gave you the impression of a boundary between patient and doctor. “I thought that maybe I could at least provide you something they cannot give. Or, they refuse to give.”

Key word differences, but he was far in too deep to have them matter too much. Then you beamed quite genuinely, “I can always rely on you.”

Good, he liked hearing that. Devotion was built on loyalty, and loyalty was built from a constant source of trust. That’s why he bought you those paint brushes last session, and that sketchbook the previous section. It’s why he keeps denouncing your parents to shift your reliance.

“So,” he started up. A facade he kept on to pose as your doctor, oh, how was he so lucky? “Anything new since we last spoke together?” ‘Together’; as long as he kept pushing the word—as long as he kept pushing the mere idea of it—surely it will stick in your head.

Your smile suddenly fell, and he took careful notice of how your hands suddenly grip at the paints like you value them.

He stops himself from grinning.

“Not a surprise,” you start, “but my father took away the sketchbook you gave me.” Oh, you poor thing. He immediately pushed out his bottom lip to resemble a pout. Surely, you’d see how much this saddens him. And so surely, you’d value the gifts he gives you even more. “I may have overreacted, and then an argument with both my parents started…”

“Oh no, not at all,” he dismissed. “They just don’t understand how much art means to you.”

Your face held desperation as he said that—confirming whatever thoughts you had in hopes that at least someone would understand you, if not your family. But he understands you, and he wants to make sure you know that. “Yeah, exactly!”

The doctor stood up. He made his way around the coffee table that was in between the both of you, stopping just to take a seat right next to you. You visibly tensed; he’s never been so close before. “Is this alright?” he asked as innocently as he could, placing a steady hand down on your shoulder.

You stuttered, eyes shifting away. “Yeah…”

And then he leaned in, using the length of his body against yours to pull closer until you were on his shoulder for some sort of half-embrace. “You need to learn that not everyone will understand you, especially when your parents are like that.” He spoke such mutters into your ear—a close proximity he was almost dying to have. “But, eventually someone will.” And that someone is me, and only me.

“I know you understand me, doctor,” you mumbled.

He could not see your face, but oh, he was glad you could not see his. Because your words, so unsure of yourself yet so naive, were like music to his ears.

WRIOTHESLEY.

“Careful, careful with ‘em, now,” the scruffy voice of the man behind you said, yanking at the cuffs bounding your wrists together. “This one’s the warden’s favorite.”

This was happening a little too often, happenings in which you were cuffed and brutally thrown down onto a cold chair in the prison administrator’s office. Being a criminal locked down here in the deepest depths of the Nation of Justice was no small feat, especially when it was kilometers under the ocean.

But how romantic is that? You, and him… oceans underneath.

“Aww,” you smiled, in sore pain from the way the previous guards threw you down. But the black haired warden in front of you sat with perfectly calm posture, the scars on his face only crinkling in his movements to sip at his tea. “I missed you too, Your Grace, but don’t you think you’re a little obsessed with seeing me?”

He did not have to look up to see the smirk on your face—it was practically audible via your words alone.

“A warden must check on his convicts,” the Duke merely replied. “Especially the most rowdy of them.” His tone when he said ‘rowdy’; that was the most interest you’d ever get from his voice. And yet, even as his eyes scanned his morning Fontainian newspaper in absolute boredom, you could tell. It was obvious with how much he called you in here, all the effort just to see you.

You scoffed. “You and I both know that’s far from true.” This finally earned you a glance from him—a glare, sure, but a glance nevertheless. It was like you succeeded, almost. “But anyways,” you dismissed. His gaze moved down to the table, right where you tossed a full pouch of Mora on top.

He gave it a toothy grin. “Heh, bail money or lawyer funds this time?”

“Both,” you shrugged.

Your eyes followed as he stood up from his chair, making his way around to the back of your seat. You wish you could move, you really did. But the very handcuffs that were restricting your wrists just now got pulled by the calloused fingers of his hand. “Where’d you even get money like this?” he questioned you so suddenly. He was bent down almost to the level of your chair, head right close to yours. And when you made the mistake of turning your face towards him, you could feel the cold air of his breath hit your cheek. “I’m sure the other convicts here wouldn’t just cough it up.”

“Well aren’t you touchy today…” you scowled. “And here I thought you liked me enough to just take the coins.” His grip was unwavering, and you felt your arms being pulled at your shoulders. Such a calm man, he was, but his strength could change that in seconds. “Then why have you been calling me in everyday? Where’s my Mora going?”

“I’ll buy you something pretty, don’t you worry.” There was a small chuckle in his voice. You didn’t particularly like the sound when it came from right behind you.

“A lawyer is pretty.”

“You’re not getting a lawyer.”

If you were able to turn around and glare at him, you would. “Why, you just wanna keep me here forever until I die?”

There was an oncoming silence that made your stomach drop. Surely. Surely not. Surely he was not infatuated enough to want to keep you imprisoned just because he wanted to see you every day. But when he spoke no words, and when you felt a coldness that creeped up your spine, his intentions as he stared down at your collar like a preying wolf were more than obvious.

“Oh. Oh, you’re sick.”

“Can’t help it.”

You were quick to thrash your hands against the handcuffs until he let go of you, but that wasn’t the case. And by then, all you could feel was the looming presence of the weight of his body pressed to the chair behind you. Because if you were let go from his place, he wouldn’t get to see you every day like he does now. And if you leave, well, there’d be this ocean separating the two of you apart.

And if you were freed, then… He wouldn’t get the authority over you like this anymore—archons, the twisted fantasy in his eyes as he watched you struggle in front of him—right?

KAMISATO AYATO.

Scarlet roses adorn scarlet letters in this garden of Eden.

What surfaced as a lovely night was truly a raging tempest, though he could not have it any other way. He kisses you with the lips of a married man, though he was already wed to a woman of status and riches. And you, all the meanwhile, felt like a homewrecker.

Of course, their marriage was arranged. Your lover was not a cheater. But if that was true, then why did you feel so dirty?

“The wedding was awful,” he groaned against your neck, arms snaking tight around your waist as he leaned into you for comfort. You could only hate yourself for feeling loved among his embrace; your fingers weaved through his hair, garden hedges shaded you from scrutinizing moonlight. Perhaps if the divine Gods of the moon could see you in the light, they’d be frowning. “All I could imagine was you walking down the aisle just to force a smile on my face.”

You could only mutter, “And how was the lovely bride?”

“I didn’t bother to pay attention, I’m afraid,” he sighed. You wondered why you cared so much about a woman you didn’t even know. Surely, she didn’t wish for an arranged marriage too, right? “I just wanted to get out of there.”

You stayed silent.

Perhaps he noticed it, the way you were tense. You were not like this before the wedding actually happened. And you were all for it—these stolen glances and longing gazes. A forced, loveless marriage with a woman he only met on the day of the wedding is a means to keep your relationship, sure; but the band on his finger spun you back to reality.

And that was when you leaned back, forcing his head to tilt up towards you. Your gaze, it looked so solemn. “What’s wrong, my love?” The shakiness in his voice… Perhaps he feared the same thing.

“I…” There was a lump in your throat. But when his left hand reached up to cup the side of your cheek—the stinging cold of his metal ring practically burned at your skin. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He sat up straight immediately, eyes widening and hands locking around your body in a sudden panic that cut his breath short. And for the first time, he stutters in his speech. “What…?” There’s a breathlessness in his voice, one that forces you to bite your tongue. “Please, no, don’t say things like that—What are you saying?”

“This relationship,” you continued through gritted teeth, much to his horror. “Don’t you think this has gone too far? You’re married now!”

“If the clan let me marry you, I promise I would’ve—” His words were beginning to slur together; it was clear he was at a complete loss of composure and clarity. His eyes held a desperation you never wanted to see. “I promise, I tried!”

This was only a losing game. “But you couldn’t,” you solidified. Did your voice always sound this close to tears?

“Then I’ll try again!” he countered. His hands moved up to grasp your face, both of them holding your cheeks as if he waited any longer, you would disappear from his sight. Archons. You hated seeing him cry. “Tomorrow, I promise you. I’ll meet with the other clans and commissioners for however long it takes just to call on a divorce so we can—”

“But your reputation,” you argued. To that, he immediately opened his mouth again, but you cut him off. “Think of what the citizens of Inazuma would speak of you? Words denouncing respect and calling you a disgrace… I don’t want your name to go to shambles if it just means being with me.”

He wanted to say he didn’t care about his family name, he really did. But you both already know: He would not have married that woman and her status if it were true at all.

It’s you, or his family.

You both stay silent. The moonlight stretches overhead, shining down on the finale of sad, saccharine sin.

PLZ SUPPORT THIS POST I ACTUALLY RLY LIKED IT !! 🥹

[originemesis]

@bored2deathiswear xxx

Man is simple really- a fact the one who'd poisoned humanity is likely all too aware of given his accomodations so far. At every mortal core, the hard wiring of creature comforts serves a typical infrastructure to man, a blueprint for any that desired to contain it, and had since the very start of creation. Shut off from the world in a gilded cage where any place within was a suitable shelter to sleep unhindered, and where any concept of hunger couldn't exist with the abundance of food anywhere the eye fell, and where getting one's fervish flights of 'frustrations' out was as unassuming as a scent.

That was what the clown thought he'd created here- wasn't it? Like the structure that contained his terrible secret wasn't just some house in hell. It definitely was no Eden, that was for sure- no matter how closely its 'merciful' creator tried to replicate it. And for what? To prove something? That somehow he hadn't been wrong some seven thousand years ago? Or more believably, had always thought himself the owner of the beings that dwelled within the garden's simulation? Adam had been content there once, never considering the gaps in the gate like he did now when formulating the amount of voltage he'd have to endure to get just one step beyond the forcefield that trapped him in the guest room with everything he could ever want and yet... didn't. How fucking ironic. And Lucifer had no one to blame for it but himself. Because of his meddling, humans would always want what they didn't have, and what he didn't have in a room closed off from even heaven's all seeing capability of tracking their angels was- a concept now mounted above the devil's mantle, as if he weren't the one to propose freedom from one's confinement in the first place.

Well, he certainly wasn't the one who proposed an eye for an eye mentality, old or testament through they were...or in this case- a pie for a pie. The sound of its sugar crystal crust first cracking around Lucifer's face and cutting off the coax of his gaze in the process is almost as cathartic as his choking. And as he wriggles and writhes to find even a sliver of air in the pie from the struggle, Adam makes sure he doesn't get to enjoy it by wrenching the grip on his neck to keep anything going in from going down as if he hoped the other would finally just vomit out of desperation so he could grind that into his face next until- until...he felt better? Could he even do that anymore?

Ignoring the pinpricks of claws that manage to scrape at his gloved forearms in a panicked flail, he doubles down on his smothering method by forcing his weight down as if he can't decide if choking the other out or crushing him would feel best and so settles for something in between. "What- not so fun when I give it back to you, huh~?" Asked like the hellish shit had any means to respond other than writhing. "All you ever fucking do is take, so go on... TAKE it- I fucking dare you, you miserable waste of a cunt-"

Crunch. The wall cracks in spider veins around his back once he's suddenly launched from the devil below him, and gravity has little time to claim him in a downwards slide at the edge of the bed before the careless crack of seraphim wings becomes all too apparent. Or were they cherebim? Nobody in heaven willing to discuss the matter could decide, only agree that their owner clearly lacked the heart of both. The breath knocked free of him, Adam peeks through one gilded eye with his teeth grinding all the while, only to spot a fist flying in much too quick to block...though a flinch seems to divert it into the wall. When several flings of ashen knuckles bash the plaster on either side of his head enough times to create a cloud of debris dust, the man forces a forearm up as a makeshift barricade between his face and the dripping fury of Lucifer's ire once the arrival of infernal wings had helped pin the first man in place. Of course he fucking would bring those out - salt in his closed wounds with no way to wash them out lest he find a way to slice them back open.

And it's when the other starts to laugh as if the man had told a joke rather than attempt to wring his neck that Adam affixes the mounting mirth with a soured scowl. "Oh, sure- pull out all the wings to stop me. Fucking hilarious, bruh. You're a joke that writes itself." Seething as if his frazzled remarks do anything more than self soothe, he only falls quiet with the uncomfortable heat burning through his mask at the proximity that Lucifer issues when 'kindly' informing him of- yet another bad joke. About why the Exorcist commander's ceaseless struggle against settling in to his prisoner role is actually just proof that whether he submits to the other's demands or not, the devil always wins- one way or another, and the burning lump in his throat is enough of a reminder even before the fucker points it out like a legacy to be long lauded over the first man's head. It's a sobering enough strike without having even come to retaliatory blows that prompts him to screw the garrish yellows of his eyes shut and petulantly tip his face away from the burning Lucifer's caused at too close a range.

He hardly registers the new set of shackles as they bind his arms backwards, leaving him half curled up on the floor with nothing to look forward to except apparently hellfire fastened at his wrist if he wiggled the wrong way. Not that he had much wiggle left in him after the height of his earlier explosion had joined him on the floor, and the familiar exhaustion of a failed tantrum weighed down on him like the aftermath of a storm leaving soaked robes heavy and dragging. "An anti-chains advocate...unless they suit your agenda, course! How fucking typical-" He gripes, already prepared for the crick in his neck from however sleeping in this position was going to work out if he couldn't wobble himself up and over to bed. Though with all that shitty apple pie smeared on the sheets, the floor was actually looking preferable.

That prompting prod to his side where his rib cage lacked a bar earns a subtle jerk to accompany the squeaky toy of a sound it emits, but he sucks his teeth soon after in a poor attempt to disguise the discomfort at the reminder that anyone he's since used to fill the void left behind by Eve was not here. The connection between him and his flock would rot away eventually - and he can't help but think that was exactly what the fucker was counting on when he'd rendered him flightless. Eyes narrowing to follow Lucifer's feet towards the door, he's left grimacing at the parting shot of a...not so much a suggestion than a sentencing. And though he's inclined to disagree with a middle finger he couldn't flip the other with his arms bound to his back, his captor's prior premonitions start to fester at the edges of subconsciousness as the dark of the room eventually bleeds into dawn.

----

Breakfast appears on the table as normal- because of course it did. Since it's most likely a further jab from Lucifer knowing how he'd left the man bound and face planted to the floor, he ignores the drifting smell of pancakes in favor of facing the tedious task of finding his feet. Shit probably had apples on it anyway. After last night he doubts he's going to see anything edible without the fruit mixed in to it somewhere. That's how the bastard had operated so far...find a sticking point and then ram it until the man was inevitably forced to relent. It was annoying as it was cyclical.

With no immediate way to yank himself up, he resorts to the next best thing and inchworms across the room, albeit pausing often to collect his wits through a few rounds of breathless slurs. Once he'd made it to his intended target - being the window, he inches up the wall to hook his chin onto the ledge which he uses to help yank himself the rest of the way up after some struggle and numerous teeth gritting grunts.

He'd already spent enough time roosting in the window nook to know the view from inside looking out well enough. There's a small shrub like tree not unlike a camelia that takes its pruning neglect out on his window with each shift in the wind's direction. It's the only inhabitant of the carved out section of garden below that likely no one would stumble through given how the veil of the forcefield containing him in the room also extends to just below the window frame on its outside. And aside from misjudging how long it took broken wings to mend, his captor hadn't overlooked much in way of ways out when setting up the enclosure. Given his hulking size in comparison to the sliver of afforded garden, the trip to take a look down below didn't seem worth it considering there would be no room for him to even turn fully around on the ground level.

So when his half lidded gaze made its usual lazy sweep of the outside, it isn't with any motive other than fading out for the next few hours. Only instead, his gaze catches on something white and discarded lying beneath the boughs of the camelia. Head tipping to each side, he tries his best to identify the new object he'd yet to spot til now. Was that a...glove? One that resembled those he'd seen the clown pulling off when entering the room on some occasions. Brows furrow and his gaze narrows as he feels a slight twinge of a pull in his side towards the discarded garment. Perhaps he wanted a piece of the other to pull apart for his own amusement, or perhaps the unsettling urge to collect it off the ground stemmed from wanting to see if the twitch in his side would settle down once he had it. Either way, the window bursts outward in a spray of glass once he bashes the blunt side of his horns against it.

The heat that follows fastened around his wrists is - as Lucifer mentioned, more intense than a hot iron rammed up the ass, and it leaves him sucking his teeth hard around a half stifled yelp of "son of a whore!!" as he waits for the stinging to subside to clean the rest of the glass out of the frame with a sweep of his horns.

It's whenever Lucifer returns that the extent of Adam's attempt at venturing down shows. The man had managed to push himself halfway out of the window feet first only to become lodged in place once his stomach passed a point where even sucking in didn't allow it to squeeze through. Hanging rather limply with his head bowed as if he opted for a nap mid extraction, he lifts his gaze once he hears the telltale click of boots making a beeline for him.

"...don't you say shit." He warns, a firm wriggle in place- no more intimidating than a budgie cupped in a palm. "Seriously."

[theloverscardtarot]

What Kind of a Man is Evan?

The Devil: This can be someone that is co-dependant, highly sexual, charming, a bit unsettling. This could be touching on his past issues with addiction as well. His voice is likely to be deep and smooth and draws you in, makes you hang on every word. His eyes are intense and captivating (!!). His handshake is firm (and veiny) and warm. His scent could be strong and spicy. He may make your heart beat fast and makes you feel like he draws you into his web. He tempts you and makes you feel desire for him. But, he may know how to manipulate you. Smooth talker. Tells you what you want to bear. Well, I don't know about you ladies, should we feel scared or turned on? Little bit of both, I guess. 🫠

Queen of Cups/Pents (fell together): A nurturing and loving person. Creates a calm and safe environment. He is also highly empathetic (I have always felt that about him!). Friends and family can go to him for emotional support. He is emotionally mature. Traits may be soft spoken, expressive eyes, smells like vanilla (people have said this) and a warm touch. He is capable of being very understanding and non judgemental. He may be resourceful, which I have always thought because of his personal touches to his roles. Highly intelligent. Kind and looks after the well being of others. I mean based on fan encounters this is pretty accurate.

Strength and Ace of Cups Side (fell together) Strength (U): Quiet and compassionate demeanor. Resilience and courage. "Someone that doesn't need to shout to be heard, nor has to resort to aggression to assert himself". Our non-confrontational Evvie! He is someone that listens more than he speaks and reacts with empathy and compassion. His touch is warm and he envokes a sense of safety. (R) Someone who can be impulsive, insecure or struggling with inner turmoil. Will either explode with aggression or retreat into himself. He may at times be emotionally inconsistent and may shut down completely.

Ace of Cups (U): He can be emotionally open. An outpouring. Kind and makes you feel safe. "His hair may have a soft texture, reminiscent of waves on a shore." Welp! Has the ability to listen without judgement and speak with out pretense. Emotionally available. (R) Guarded, emotionally unavailable. He is someone that is hard to read. People around him might feel isolated, even though he is right there with him. May have emotional blockages or issues with vulnerability.

7 of Swords Side: Someone that may seem a bit cunning and elusive. Although he is not malevolent, he exudes an air of mystery and can leave people feeling a little disturbed. I feel like this goes with him saying people think he's weird. He may have a gaze that avoids prolonged eye contact. (Dude, we see this all the time.) He can read people and situations quickly and can adapt. Always one step ahead of you mentally. Not the kind to wear his heart on his sleeve. (R) May want to talk about his feelings if he is feeling remorseful about certain actions. He feels guilty for deceit or secrecy and can't hold it inside. He may make you feel like he's helping you lift your burdens. I feel like this means he wants you to be open, but doesn't always show you the same.

The Hermit: Introverted. Isolates himself, even when it's not healthy for him. Likes his alone time to reflect and recuperate. A homebody. (Old man Peters!)

9 of Swords: Someone who may be struggling with inner turmoil, anxiety or depression. He is like a stormy sea. Bouts of calm are rare, overrun with intense moments of emotional upheaval. A worrier, over-thinker, anxious. He may become detached or distant easily.

5 of Pents: The biggest thing here is that he is humble. He is most likely content with the things he has and doesn't dwell on material things he may be lacking. He sometimes fails to see that everything he needs is right in front of him. Maybe gets in his own head too much. May feel a bit isolated from other people, possibly if he doesn't click with them. It may be hard for him to feel like he fits in.

Chariot: I hate to say it, but right off the bat this could mean he is a bit authoritative. Maybe he thinks he is always right or that he knows all. (My husband is kinda like this so I just chuckled to myself). I feel like our Evvie could be very stubborn. Very set in his ways. Possibly has a daily routine. This also means that for the most part he has his shit together. Is taking the reigns in his life and is moving along with confidence. This may be more work related than love related haha.

3 of Wands & 6 of Swords (fell out together): I find it funny that both cards signify a journey, but one is alone and one has a companion. One is day and one has a moon. Both cards represent a journey of self reflection and personal healing. Sometimes we are on a journey with someone at our side forever or sometimes a short period of time. The wands represent looking ahead to your future with anticipation.

4 of Swords: Rest and recuperation. He may be in a period of his life that he is free of stress and upheaval. Even when he is emotionally balanced, he may require some alone time. He initiates this in a non threatening way. Meaning, he doesn't make his partner feel like he doesn't want to be around them, he just simply needs some time alone.

9 of Cups: A person that feels emotionally fulfilled and may attract luck and good fortune. He can make you feel like any situation can be handled. He is optimistic. His eyes may have a bit of a sparkle and his laugh is hearty. His skin may have a healthy glow and and he may smell like spiced vanilla.(!)

King of Wands: Someone who leads with example and this attracts people to him. He may give you advice, but then jumps in the trenches with you to guide you. Confident but not arrogant. Well-balanced and emotionally intelligent. He makes you feel like you can do anything with him by your side. He may make you feel empowered, respected and treats you as an equal.

Page of Pents, Temperance, 10 of swords all side, all together. (U) Eager to learn new things and set sturdy foundations. Open to new journeys and stays for the long haul. He is curious and absorbs information like a sponge. He makes you feel calm, understood and at peace. He may also struggle with depression. He might be a Debbie Downer at times and it can make the room feel heavy. He may fear he has hit rock bottom with certain aspects of his life. (R) He could be someone that is a bit emotionally stunted. Not very disciplined and can drop the ball on his potential at times. People around him might find it a struggle to watch this happen. He may be impatient or easily distracted. He could be prone to mood swings and erratic behavior. There can be an emotional imbalance. It also suggests he could be excessive and overindulgent in certain areas of his life (like addiction?). He may be starting to pick himself up out of devastating setbacks or defeat. He is cautious at first, almost as if testing the waters before he takes a full step forward. We have been kind of seeing that!

Phew! This was pretty accurate for what we actually know of him. What do you guys think? 🤔

[akuaya-eng]

(Main story) Chapter 6 - Episode 1

- INDIVIDUAL INTENTIONS -

Mere

Records of fallen angels…? The prince really desires something unusual.

Dia

I know it's here. All the records of the ages since this world began.

Mere

Hehe. Who knows. In any case, such records cannot be shown to outsiders. I'm sorry to disappoint you, Dia, but…

Dia

It seems you're mistaken. I'm not here with expectations. Show me the records of the fallen angels. That's an order.

Mere

Oh dear. Those who dwell in the Holy Land do not obey orders from anyone… Tell me, Dia. Why do you, a devil, take the risk of wanting to know about fallen angels? Entering the Holy Land should not be easy for a devil… Isn't it suffocating even now?

Dia

You're too full of yourself, Mere. This level of barrier is nothing to me… Why do I want to know about fallen angels? A meaningless question to buy some time. You have an idea, don't you? It's related to the truth about the calamity.

Kai

The truth about the calamity…

Tis

Is he talking about the one Dih caused?

Mere

An idea… I wonder what you're talking about.

Dia

… Even now you feign ignorance. There's no choice then. (charges energy) --I'll take it by force.

Kai & Tis

…!

Mere

Oh my. I would prefer if you leave peacefully… Kai, Tis. You understand.

Kai

Y-yes, Mr. Mere.

Tis

Isn't there another way? Well, okay…

Kai

Here he comes, Tis!

Dia

--Ha! (attacks)

Kai

(gets in front of Mere with Tis) Gah…!

Tis

Kai! Are you okay!?

Dia

Move aside, Kai, Tis. I only need Mere.

Tis

Hey, Dih, wait a second! (receives an attack) …! Geez! This isn't fun at all!

Kai

It's useless, Tis. Dia is serious. We have to face him seriously too… It's tough, but we have no choice… I'm sorry, Dia! (attacks)

Dia

(blocks) …You're finally getting serious. You weren't just a baby relying on your mother.

Tis

Now that you came all the way to the Holy Land, I wanted to play a different game… Haa! (attacks)

Dia

(blocks) Did you think you found an opening? Hah! (attacks)

Tis

Gah! Dih, you big dummy. I won't bring you any nice antiques anymore!

Kai

This isn't the time for that…

Mere

Wonderful, Kai, Tis. It seems your daily training is paying off. Your reaction speed has improved significantly. Next, focus on increasing the power of each strike.

Tis

Mere! Stop being so relaxed and do something!

Mere

If I step in immediately, it would hinder everyone's growth, don't you think? For Kai, Tis, and Dia too. This opportunity should contribute to the growth of each of your souls.

Dia

(charges) ………

Kai

Mere, it's dangerous!

Dia

---- ……! (attacks)

Kai & Tis

Waaah!

Mere

(blocks) ………

Tis

Oww~… Dih, you're strong…

Kai

Tis, are you hurt?

Tis

In a certain way…

Kai

Good. Mere, are you alright?

Mere

Yes, of course. As expected, Dia. Your magical power is truly remarkable.

Dia

You blocked that with a barrier. I'll commend you, Mere.

Mere

Hehe, being praised makes me happy no matter how old I get. It's a shame, but let's end this now. Ha…!

Dia

(gets restrained) …Guh… My body… won't move…!

Mere

I didn't want to do something like this. But it can't be helped since Mere's children are at their limit.

Dia

…Let me go…!

Mere

Just a little patience. I'll release you once you calm down. Until then--

Espada

--I will not allow you to touch my master!

Dia

…!

Espada

Haaah! (sword strike)

Dia

(restraints disappear) …! Espada, why are you here…

Espada

Lord Dia, are you safe? I have been searching for you.

Dia

If you came here, then… Adder and the others must be involved. Something must have happened over there too… Let's go. There's no time to chat leisurely.

Espada

Understood.

Mere

It's quite a busy day for visitors. Welcome, Espada. Why not relax in the Holy Land? Your master Dia also seems tired.

Espada

Don't be silly. You will pay for your disrespect towards Lord Dia.

Mere

Please don't say that. Now then--

??? (Vanis)

… You're as insidious and persistent as ever.

Mere

Wrath! You've come again. Mere is very, very happy.

Vanis

Dia, Espada. I've arranged for our escape.

Espada

Vanis…!? Why are you here…

Vanis

We'll talk later. Let's hurry before it gets worse.

Mere

I was just about to invite everyone for tea. How about you, Wrath?

Vanis

You're acting all relaxed, but inside you're frustrated, right? Sorry, but this time, you lose, Mere. It'd be a good time to hold a reflection meeting with the angels.

Mere

Wrath, you're talking so much…! Did something good happen? Ah, today is a very good day. I'd love to hear all about it over tea.

Vanis

… Tch. Persistent as ever. Ha! (restrains the three angels)

Kai

… Huh? My body… won't move…

Tis

Mr. Mere~! What is this~!?

Mere

Oh my, I can't believe you used this kind of magic… It's a bit inefficient to buy some time, isn't it?

Vanis

Enough. Dia, Espada, now's the time. (walks away)

----------

Vanis

The teleportation magic circle is set up in this room. Ready?

Dia

… Wait, I hear something.

Espada

This is… the sound of a piano.

Vanis

That must be... Mere's favorite piano. It plays music even without a player, just like its owner, always showing off.

Dia

It's near the teleportation magic circle. We need to purify it quickly, we have no time.

Espada

Leave it to me, Lord Dia.

Vanis

Let's get this done quickly.

[corruptedroses]

hi, i saw reqs were open!

nsfw novelist hcs with a fem reader 👀

⌞ask box open⌝ | ⌞commissions open⌝ | ⌞ko-fi?⌝ | ⌞Patreon coming soon⌝

— “A little research goes a long way, darling ❤„

Fandom — Identity V

Featuring — Orpheus / The Novelist

Content Warnings — AFAB reader [no pronouns], mentions of scratching, mentions of biting, temperature play, a suggestion of Nightmare joining in on the fun.

Author's Note — at the time of writing this we still do not know Orpheus' real name [as the name Orpheus has ben confirmed to be his pen name], in the near future I may end up coming back to fix this to include his real name but for now, he shall just be Orpheus.

As the title of this post suggests, Orpheus isn't a stranger when it comes to the concept of intimacy or topics regarding sexual intercourse. While this man may be a bit frigid himself, he certainly wouldn't deprive himself of the chance to learn new things. As a writer, research is a vital role of writing, and thus research means divulging in desires that would make even the devil himself sweat in pure sin.

While he leans on the vanilla side of the spectrum, he isn't afraid to experiment on his beloved or himself; while scenes like this don't usually appear in his books given that he is an author specialising in the detective genre, you have noticed that if he does something like tying you up, it usually ends up in the next book. It's weird but oddly enchanting. His personal favourite of these scenarios has had to be when he had watched your skin pebble as he dragged an ice cube across your exposed bosom. He really did like seeing you tremble

Being a bit of a frigid person, you will have to guide him at first; use him how you see fit, guide his hands, his legs, his arms to hold you tightly, squeeze you, embrace you, allow him to absorb the scent of your skin and the taste of your sweat into his brain to the point that he cannot forget it. He will not forget it. As a fast learner, one that tends to save every little detail to his memory, it wouldn't be too shocking that he ends up finding himself knowing your body like the back of his hand by the fifth time you fuck.

Talking about his fingers, he's got some long ones, he likes to make you sit in his lap, watching your face as he touches you ever so slowly, gentle circles, beautiful melodies, he's a man that likes to watch his pieces come together [and apart] with his fingers. From his years of typewriter and pen, he has callouses that also provide some nice texture. He wants to make you drip all over his thigh whether you like it or not.

He really, really likes to see evidence on each other's bodies that you two have danced the tango only meant for the most desperate of people, scratch his back, bite his skin, and he will return the favour in a way that no other man would do. He wants to leave evidence that he was there, for you to remember how he felt against your skin even long after the bruises and scratch marks have faded, he wants to remember how your heels felt digging into the small of his back as he made you sing broken syllables of his name. His true name.

When he begins to run out of ideas on how to best keep you on your toes, do not be surprised when certain books of a certain genre start appearing in his home; it's all important research to him.

There are certain nights, however, that he tends to forget, ones where his notes have already been done and you lay sound asleep. Those are the nights that make Orpheus think that he must've given into his most basic of instincts, the yearnings of the living man. As long as his notes are presented nicely and well in case of future projects, he best not dwell on them for too long.

[clarafell]

Watch out Homura, you might have a new big sister!

(From @deathdanse!)

HOMURA’S BINGO CARD :  Accepting!!!

@deathdanse​ / @misfxts​

Homura’s gaze stares at the completed card in her grasp, focused on the green circles.

An exchange between the past and future shouldn’t happen, but it’s happening in this delicate moment. She has brought down a godlike being back to the mortal world with greed, did she not? This power to spin through time is hers now once she ascended to something higher, perhaps something darker. The Law of Cycles once touched the lives of forgotten girls from the depths of the past. The glorious goddess in white saved even the ones that perished centauries ago with her shimmering wish. Then the Devil tore the Law of Cycles apart to bring Madoka Kaname back to the mortal world, silently refusing to join all the saved souls.

❝  Don’t play with them inside my home… ❞  Homura finally speaks up, gesturing to her eager dolls. She needed to establish a little rule once she saw that Corbeau truly gave her consent to play with her dolls. Their definition of “playing” meant fighting to the point that they would turn any clean home into one big crime scene. Their strength and skills were on the same level as most people bound to a magical contract, not mere humans. The false children may look dainty, but they could easily match even the most clever fighters with their endless stamina.

They also love to play harmless games whenever they got bored of their violent games!

Homura has so much in the palm of her hands, but what she lacked is proper companionship. The Law of Cycles was destined to be all alone without a chance at being a happy mortal girl until the Devil came along with a burning desire. The goddess in white had her loyal subjects to help her, such as Sayaka Miki. But Homura had no puella magi (or puer magi) to join her cause. She couldn’t necessarily blame them for not joining her selfish cause. They were happy with being held by the Law of Cycles; the one who saved them from being witches.

Why would they ever want to support anyone tampering with their salvation?

Her pale face doesn’t reveal her inner shock, but Homura’s still stunned to see even two successful bingos on the bingo card. She didn’t expect Corbeau to be gentle and patient. Wanting to become closer to her didn’t sound correct, but Corbeau did fill it out. Like a soul within a soul gem, the card in her grasp is physical proof that Corbeau wants to be in her presence. What Homura didn’t understand is why. Is this really what Corbeau wanted?

She has denied herself the pleasure of befriending Madoka Kaname all over again. It turns out that merely watching Madoka live her life from a distance can still bring Homura some happiness. Hanging out with all of the girls that once formed the Holy Quintet did sound tempting to her naive, lonely self. Homura closed the door to that innocent route of friendship, sealing herself in a cocoon meant for only one. Being friends with all of them is an impossible dream, unless she wanted to risk exposing the truth that she hid away. A group of friends is something only her labyrinth could give to her.

❝  Is all of this what you really want? ❞   Homura allows the question to slip from her lips, mostly because she didn’t want to think about being trapped in her own labyrinth. Dwelling on the memory led her to the uncomfortable memory of the cold Isolation Field. Kyubey and the rest of his filthy race are under her thumb now, but she still couldn’t shake off the sickening feeling she got whenever she remembered how she was once their trapped little experiment. They had no regret for piercing her tainted soul gem over and over again in order to complete their goal. Homura allowed herself to question Corbeau in hopes to distract her mind, but she’s also trying to satisfy her growing curiosity.

Corbeau would’ve received a more expressive reaction if she was dealing with the shy girl with the poor eyesight. She may even receive an invitation to go look for some sweets, maybe look for some flowers. But Corbeau is dealing with someone more colder and guarded. Homura isn’t sure if she trusts Corbeau, but she’s still willing to give her a chance. The fact that Homura took the offered sheet of paper is a good sign. Maybe, just maybe, a step in the right direction.

[antisatiric]

song challenge !

Share at least 5 songs that you associate with or remind you of your muse! (I went a little crazy and added explanations for them also. My bad. I like to talk about Twain.)

1. American Pie - Don McLean

Well, it's not really very original of me and it doesn't really remind me of him for the reasons you might think, because he doesn't really relate to the song or anything. But, when I was first starting to write Twain---back when he was basically strictly adherent to BSD canon---one of the first headcanons I ever made that had meant a lot to me was that American Pie was a really important song to him. The reason why has changed a lot---he used to have a mentor figure who liked the song, but now it's closer to "when he was a kid, it played on the radio a lot and he liked it". I think as my portrayal of him evolved I really wanted to emphasize the importance of his upbringing on his character, so that ended up fitting in well as a little nod to the fact that while things were hard for him, they weren't ALWAYS hard.

2. Nunemaker's Parable - Everybody's Worried About Owen

If you know this song it's probably obvious, but from the very first time I heard it I thought about Twain! It's a song based on a biblical story, which is a bonus point because Twain WAS raised in the bible belt in a very religious family, but the content of the song is someone losing every single home he's made for himself over and over again, and turning to worse places because of it. It resonated with me and my portrayal of Twain a LOT because I put a lot of emphasis on the fact that Twain, without someone acting as an anchor, is a drifter who's too afraid to put down roots because he's afraid they might get severed.

3. All Gone - Mother Mother

It's another song that reminds me of Twain because of the way he's pretty much scrubbed himself clean of the person he grew up as in every way but the ones that matter the most. He doesn't really talk about his childhood or his family or anything like that and it was because of a purposeful desire to "die" and carry on living as a new person. It didn't end up making him feel any better about the things that had happened, and it's honestly probably worse that he doesn't talk about it, but... Well. He doesn't really like to dwell on stuff so the idea of him talking about it at literally any point is far-fetched. The point of this one was that I like the interpretation that he thought had to mutilate his sense of self in order to move forward, only for it to not end up helping him at all.

4. This Year - The Mountain Goats

Despite being an occasional pessimist and the sort of person who'd joke about dying often, I've always characterized him as the sort of person who wants to live no matter what he has to do. I think drowning when he was 14 really changed his perspective on life, because he genuinely didn't see hope for a future at that point and wanted to die right until the water entered his lungs for the first time, and ever since then he's been oddly stubborn about pushing through. That's not to say he's afraid of death or anything---he's a little afraid of dying alone and he obviously doesn't WANT to die, but it's more of a sense of... "I know one of these days I'm gonna get unlucky and bite it and I'm glad there's an end to life, but I'll do what I can to make sure that's not today". From where he is now, he just wants to be able to appreciate the world and the things that are possible in it while he's alive.

5. Blossoms - The Amazing Devil

I wanted to have at least one song on here that gave me an excuse to talk about his interpersonal relationships and I think this is a really great one. He's lived the sort of life where he's either had to leave or has been left by most of the people who he's cared about, and this song has a sense of drifting and anger and desparation and hurt that I think comes from having those failed relationships and wanting to MAKE something with someone that ends up going right---but it also ends somewhat optimistically, and that's why I picked it over some of the other songs that I was debating talking about for my #5. He's been ruined beyond complete repair by the people he's disconnected himself from but he has the inherent capacity (and desire even if he won't admit it to himself) to choose to stay and work for something resembling a healthy relationship with someone else.

--- tagged by: @longerhuman --- tagging: the person reading this.... :D

[libidomechanica]

“Or root or seemed presence all such efforts fail”

A sonnet sequence

               1

I do not been able, still he lours and beside! Fair-haired and waved my very heats, for which from her sleepy mead: look, or cast a frown, O! I sate with tilt and loathsome carriage. Who won’t let the sea, by the fools! I loved more than comment upon the shivering beams upon his former lucklesse paining gilt from the moon-beam dwells at dewy e’en; so trembled. Or root or seemed presence all such efforts fail. And by all for his tomatoes: no otherwhere: on them to lifeless pictures, or saunter’d to tears. Is far too dangerous for that. The print more, as harbinger of light, slips the kill’d.

               2

Whose cheers their golden arrow within—et caetera. Relenting body so ill, the faded monsters of their tryst. Why blush themselves have made, oblige us to her a good enough for an hour; the way, and weeping earth below a prison-clock smote thy mind the young Porphyro!—Three steps, ere midnight, but various taste of sweet, and peace, or with herself, with a lazy spright, the Throne of us, and grew proud, and thither rennes this bate-breeding one the very plumes let false praise is shame; however, t is expedient to a moral lesson is there: for which he brought to rise.

               3

A Cry to Heav’n ye wandering cheek the fourth we send, or vainly aim; and that he had not speak, and fair; yet ever yet have lived; if he waite well, like ripe age, but by my unkind! In obiect best things, nothing that sprang up again, and most of all the calme and the hours with wonders. Her far, alas! That July 21st place of Death, and o’er my desire sees her spirit guiding. All fleet of flame! And lower panes. To the great bells, those passion spread our evening heart bleed again ere on the least for? Ah, my bonie Jean. On that playes, o how art thou sit and majesty, she puts out a well-pleased.

               4

I will endure the milder air. Or rode a nag which die forswonck and unlawful Drink making in the shamefully at the rest. Bid me discourse to flutes of men. Special person, possible; and the blasted in those swell; nae snap conceits, but alas too long ere without a break twenty- five years. The old men in the common tale, as if you lookest from them into the faded cheek, and sleigh bells, at seventy years half drown’d, he chafes her and how he outruns the leaders of celebrity dined well to one Lady Adeline of chalk, a wood-coal or the crank, or tears as pearl.

               5

I said, The devil was in heat and life was done. But not love which we ceased. Amusing curled like I hold him from grave for cits. In vision of the pouted blossoms. The honey’d middle-aged to meet. Would my rude words, came steals along, and, whether light withal: it lies not these lovers fled away that rowme to my heart raves. Quote and call lift my arms his forc’d, the woe that were garden of my life, when the town where am I? Will be, nor had power of human heare both of these and angling. Who could thou Hymen coupled in the earth usurp’d his only troubled plumes are reeking not that.

               6

It shall cool the hideous prison-wall: till which are mad that sat in silk and learn it, were I sit—ah, where to know that you must be since I’m free, oh, how doth her wrong can the adamantine Destiny and Passion lay a lucid lake, where beneath a shadow makes some with thee, with such glee: to men what matter could behold I fell a-weeping its place; and hear a little boys begin to jar. Hot, faint, life-poisoning pestilence like fire was not sit below. Like a happening thee speaks, as do those who knew not think. And white a friend, will live with foam, until the pine, I thought the lawn.

               7

Both cry Kill, kill! In this cottage; at his truth described the street and from one room in the turn’d Crimson holly-hoaks, among the ignes fatui’ of many cease to sing: that all that hour, and forth music to the embracements which no eyes blaze again I turned, and the tongues: and beauteous comprehensions, there is come, what a pleasant suns, we it is said, Tis now one could say,���who went and garter’d earls, or softly call, soothing fine,—the melodious discovery often are, their strength. But let my tongues will not speak. A kingdom of the seaman, tempests of greene embellish theyr eccho ring.

[morgana-ren]

What are your ocs ultimate fantasies? What do they really really want to do with their love? No holds barred, human is guaranteed survival, (or amnesia incase of pesky soft activities!)

I know they already have carte blanche to do what they want but deep deep down, what do they want to do??

I think you mean if they could have like.. any kind of love, what kind it would be? Or did you mean a more.. specific activity? This is the more overarching 'what he wants' but I'm happy to answer the other one too.

Ilya... doesn't know. He'd honestly never even considered it a possibility. He thought he'd be a harem-having bachelor forever.

When he was a boy, he wanted the life his mother told him about. A lazy, loving life with a woman he loved that far, far away from bloodshed and war.

When he was a teenager, he wanted his father's life. A big, powerful war leader with a wide variation of wives and concubines, beset on all sides by desire and victory.

When he was in Hell, he just wanted out. He wanted to return to the surface and... that seemed so unlikely that he never bothered to dwell on it long. It became taunting and painful to think about.

But now that he's free and has the world in his palm?

Ilya is terribly lonely. He always has been. He'd spent most of his childhood in complete isolation with nothing but cruelty and derision from his stepmothers and brothers. His father was a big, bad war leader and so affection really wasn't his strong suit. Once his mother (literally the only person he has ever been close too outside of one other man) died, he had nobody-- and he had to learn to live with that.

Soon, he started wearing it as armor. Never staying with one concubine long enough to develop feelings, never getting close to any of his men save one and spurning his father and brothers and any attempts they made at reconciliation.

Truthfully, what he wants most in the world is stability with someone. To be able to let down the bullshit for one minute and be the truest form of himself with someone. He, much like his newfound brothers, despises vulnerability, but what they want most in the world requires it. He's never put much thought into what he truly wants because to him, it's unattainable and ridiculous.

When it comes to love, he doesn't want to be 'Ilya the grand conqueror, killer of one thousand men, son of Berke, maimer of--' and so on like the grand facade he puts on because it was the only value he'd ever had his entire life. He wants to just be loved as Ilya the man-- er... devil. He wants someone to be fascinated with him in the way that you become fascinated with your first love. You aren't in love with the things surrounding them, but rather, in love with who they are as a person. Ilya is far from unremarkable, and that's part of the problem. He can't put that down for like ten fucking seconds. To see the worst parts of him and still accept and love him for it.

It's probably why he goes after people who have no interest in him outside of fleeting observation and part of why he's so obsessed with normal people. Unlike Reaver, he won't usually go for starlets or celebrities or people of grand renown on occasion. He likes extraordinary-ordinary people: Girls you meet at the library or the museum. At the park. At the coffee house. People he sees walking down the street that seem interesting to him or have interesting thoughts.

Sanding Ilya down into someone soft would be utterly impossible, but you can make him soft with you. Gaining his trust in that capacity is the hardest thing to do, but you can try.

Truthfully, what he wants is probably the same thing he wanted as a little boy, though now a bit more influenced by Nightmare. He wants a home with someone he can come home to. Someone who loves him and wants to take care of him. Someone who challenges him intellectually and daily and is as playful as he is. He wants someone(s) that he can spend the very long abyss of eternity with and for once, not feel alone-- or like he would be better off alone.

He can have all the gratuitous violence and bullshit outside the house walls, but inside of it, he wants to feel safe and loved and stimulated. (Quick note: As for Snakefang, she actually ended up getting what she wanted! She's actually married to Nightmare (in her universe, anyway, but she is aware of the existence of others) with two children! She's technically a housewife but by Bane does she drink a lot (she converted for Nightmare) and she never gave up her ship! He actually gave her a fleet to command. She's a pirate queen at heart, but also a mother and a wife--- and a wife. She is also married to another woman named 'Panic'-- look it gets complicated.)

[disasterghaster]

Deities & Some Mythos

This is by no means an entirely comprehensive list. Dekropolis’ Middle Region is often the focus of these details as it is the most worked with area of the world. Even then, Dekro’s situation as a reality with thin dimensional borders and interstellar travel, there are many non-Native deities being melded or carried to Dekro. Dekro is diverse in its cultures and how they fit with each other, this includes the religions, however this pantheon is to denote what IS native to Dekro and considered the official pantheon borne of the time before stable inter- dimensional/stellar travel.

I won’t include a whole lot of minor/melded deities. We’d be here too long.

Dekro Pan-Pantheon

Mirthos 

King God of the Heavenly Court. Descendant of Beeltha and Jaana and twin brother of Diablo. He presides over the whole of Dekropolis’ pantheon as well as the world. He is omnipotent and omniscient, but not omnipresent. The omniscience requires a bit of focus. If he does not think to know something, he does not know it. Mirthos, as a deity, is capable of creation and protection. He is worshipped as a God that presides over the concept of Justice. Seen frequently as a type of entity that one should aspire to be in matters of kind and even handed judgement as well as wisdom. He is considered to rule over abstract concepts and has very little earthly connotation–he does not preside over natural phenomena at all.

Morkath/Diablo

King God of the Hellish Court. Descendant of Beeltha and Jaana and twin brother of Mirthos. He presides over the Hell of Dekropolis and other negative dieties/spirits. He deals directly with the ‘damned’ while the rest are sent to Tuyan-Vahe. He is omnipotent and omniscient, but not omnipresent. The omniscience requires a bit of focus. If he does not think to know something, he does not know it. Diablo, as a deity is capable of destruction. This includes the destruction of all things including the very souls of people. He is known for operating like a standard Devil in that he will deal in souls for ones desires. He is another ‘idea’ rather than ‘natural occurrence’ deity. His original Name was Morkath, but once other-worldly immigrations happened there was a shift in his name due to the overwhelming repeating ideas throughout existence. He is functionally similar while his brother has less overbearing commonality. Diablo is also known to have taught a handful of people something called a “Diablo Punch”. A small fraction of his martial arts ability that he has created and mastered in entirety.

Tuyan-Vahe

God of Valor and The (quintessential) Warrior. Son of Mirthos and Lekosis. He presides over the realm of those that died in honorable, righteous, and good conditions known as Vahe. He is the patron of all soldiers and warriors. When one wishes to be triumphant and strong in battle, they invoke Tuyan. He is the Heavenly Courts law enforcer, also. He is sent to deal with those whom have over stepped their bounds in Dekro. One such time was when Dominion Ezko was captured by Tuyan and taken to Heavenly Trial to be sentenced for the grievous level of destruction Dominion inflicted on Dekro. Tuyan is omnipotent, but not omnipresent or omniscient. He has never been beaten in combat.

Lekosis

Goddess of Wisdom. Considered a minor deity and consort to Mirthos. Invoked primarily by sages and mages. Those seeking mental fortitude to understand. She is thought to be the origin of letters and paper as well as memory.

Valtamara

Former God of the Ocean and Tides. Represented as a type of aquatic Lung Dragon. Able to control large bodies of water, their weather patterns, and creatures that dwell in it. He is prayed to by sailors and navy men for safe passage. He is rarely seen since the Omega Wars. (Yorime, for his services during the Omega Wars, granted Valta a mortal life. He founded the Ezko Clan.) Though he is no longer seen, he is often still worshipped–though foreign gods are more often attended to than him anymore.

Bonna Yorime

Goddess of the Moons. Dekropolis has three moons and the Yorime has three faces or forms. ‘Bonna’ is a prefix that means something like ‘honorable boss lady’. She is seen as the source of all magic and internal energy/the soul, making her a pretty prestigious, powerful, and mysterious Goddess. She created Valtamara and it is thought that, due to this, she has power over the waters/tides–even after Valta’s descension to mortality.

Old Gods

These Gods pre-date the current pantheon.

Jaana

Goddess of Creation. Jaana is one of many forgotten Old Gods. Her whereabouts are unknown, but she is written to have been the creator of the universe in which Dekropolis resides. According to the written legends, she and her chosen mate, Beeltha, fled their dimension of origin when their makers persecuted them for their union. To start anew she created Dekropolis and all that exists within it. A haven for the rejected of all other dimension and planes. Her and Beeltha had twins in the early days of Dekro’s conception. Unfortunately, the Omega Wars set into motion shortly after. Beeltha and Jaana have not been seen since. It is speculated she is no longer in Dekro.

Beeltha

God of Destruction. Beeltha helped in the making of Dekropolis. Without creation there cannot be destruction and without destruction there cannot be creation. She made the world and set in motion the things to come while Beeltha destroyed and set in motion the violent changes that would feed the things to come. It is believed that the warring and destructive nature of Dekro has something to do with Beeltha still being in Dekro while Jaana is absent. However, this is conjecture. Represented as a behemoth of a red dragon. Written to have been able to block the light of the sun with a single wing.

Hart

Steward of Forgotton Knowledge and Piety. Though not a deity, he is a very powerful servant of Beeltha and Jaana and is often treated with the same respect as a god. He is omniscient. He, very literally, knows all (relating to Beelth/Jaana and Dekropolis). Having been brought from another dimension to serve Beeltha and Jaana, Hart is outside of the fabric of Dekro reality and rules. He is a forgotten being and resides in the ruins of an old Beeltha temple in the Northern Mountains. He maintains the temple and the complex tunnel work within in the mountain that houses an extensive library. And the cavern that houses a bound Beeltha .

Traveling Deities

Ares/Mars

others not listed here yet

Other than Ares, traveling deities come to Dekro and tend to their worshipers, but always shortly return to their reality of origin. Some even come to blend in with the populace anonymously at times.

[arsnovacadenza]

Soukazu NSFW headcanons

FINALLY 'TIS DONE! (Tho I'm gonna write more later. This won't be the last)

Warning: These headcanons are for Top!Soushi and Bottom!Kazuki. So if you're looking for headcanons with Top!Kazuki, I have them in a separate post that I'll link later

The Horny

Kazuki is a MEGA-masochist who gets off on being submissive. Kazuki's guilt in the first season, his longing for Soushi in Heaven and Earth, his growing trust that we see in Behind the Line -all of it culminated into his desire to please Soushi in any way he can. 

((Plus he's been going on about wanting to be useful throughout the series so.....why not channel it in a kinky yet healthy way))

Also also Soushi being his commander makes it easier for them to slip into a Dom/sub dynamic. Would Kazuki cream his suit if Soushi ordered him around this time from the Siegfried System? Most likely.

Soushi likes to tell Kazuki to cut his hair, but he secretly likes being able to yank him by the hair when taking Kazuki from behind. He just knows how much strength he must apply to make sure that it hurts enough without being too painful while still being pleasurable for Kazuki

Soushi, at his core, is a medical researcher. He keeps, ahem, private records on Kazuki's stamina and endurance, which leads to....

Orgasm denial. He's trained Kazuki to cum at his command ONLY, so he'll tell Kazuki to lie down on the bed face up or face down, stuff a vibrator inside him, turn it up to the highest setting (sometimes gradually) and then leave his boyfriend for minutes on end to do other stuff until Kazuki is sobbing and begging Soushi to let him cum.

But Soushi, being the devil as he is, just positions himself behind Kazuki, skin-to-skin, and tease him with feather-light touches across his chest, his thighs, and tells Kazuki softly that he can endure a little more, that denying himself a little bit longer will make it more pleasurable. And when he finally tells Kazuki to come, it's all too much, way too much that all Kazuki can see is white, white, white.

They're suprisingly private. They don't do stuff like having sex toys under their clothing while out in public. Sure, Soushi BURNS with the need to make everyone know Kazuki is his, but he also wants to protect Kazuki's honor by not making it obvious to his friends they're into nasty stuff

Maya still knows, somehow. Not that she wants to dwell on it

((But part of Soushi wants to force Kazuki to walk around in his Alvis uniform with a vibrator up his ass. Soushi fantasizes sending Kazuki to talk to Kanon who he knows has a huge crush on him while he's being stimulated. BUT HEY IT'S JUST A FANTASY))

Another staple to their routine is overstimulation. Even after they climax, Soushi sometimess refuse to pull out and continue to fuck Kazuki through his orgasm. Kazuki begs Soushi to stop, but he's met with "Oh, so you've stopped listening to me then, Kazuki?" ((It's okay guys they have a safeword))

Soushi is highly aware through Crossing that Kazuki has the hots for his dominating side. And Soushi THRIVES on being in full control of the strongest fighter and pilot on the entire island.

(Kazuki trusts him with his life as much as Soushi puts his trust in him)

Their sessions often start like this: Soushi sits at his desk facing away from Kazuki as he enters the door and he commands Kazuki to strip without even looking at him. Once Kazuki is fully in the nude, he swivels around and Kazuki kneels or sits between his clothed legs

"Open your mouth" Soushi whispers, and Kazuki lets Soushi's hand explore his teeth, the roof of his mouth, coating his digits with Kazuki's saliva

"So obedient", Soushi hums. "Now, on the bed."

Kazuki wants to be good for Soushi, craves for Soushi's approval. He knows that Soushi only has eyes for him and preens at the thought of Soushi finding him beautiful, and so Kazuki crawls over his sheets seductively, making sure that Soushi sees all of him, wanting and waiting for his command

"You're so beautiful, Kazuki. It was worth the wait, after all." Soushi's eyes darken, referring to their separation for those two, agonizing years. "I want to memorize this forever"

No matter how many times Kazuki's eyes widen at the sight of Soushi's burner smartphone (not linked to Alvis' system, fortunately), he still rolls onto his back, enticingly inviting Soushi to capture every inch of his skin, the deep flush of his cheeks, the flutter of his eyelashes as the camera zooms in.

"Gorgeous" Soushi coos. He imagines Kazuki clothed in lace and ribbons and yet they haven't gotten far

The closest they've come is tying Kazuki up in bright red ropes that leaves marks on his skin. Kazuki's embarassed at first, but he learns to enjoy it and would even close the door to his bedroom so he can lie on his futon and trace the ropes under his clothes while waiting for the day to end (and present himself to Soushi)

But there are times when Kazuki can't stay overnight or Soushi is too busy to come to him, so Soushi gives his boyfriend another burner phone (seriously, how did he get these?) and tells Kazuki they can stay connected that way

There's a good reason why it's another burner phone not linked with the system: that's how they trade pictures

Of course, it's always Soushi who asks for pictures. Kazuki, ever the obliging one, would pose however Soushi wants him to, lying in bed with his skin warmed from the shower or desperate to have Soushi inside him, fingers obscuring his hole but still enough for Soushi to see traces of lube trickling down the sheets

As for Kazuki, he's rewarded with just the soothing baritone of Soushi's phone, guiding him every step of the way and assuring him that once they meet again, Kazuki will be rewarded.

The Wholesome

At the end of every session, Soushi pulls Kazuki close and tells him what a good boy he'd been, and that Kazuki is so beautiful when he falls apart. But most importantly, he tells his boyfriend that he's proud of him -that it doesn't make him love Kazuki any less no matter what Kazuki chooses during their session. Kazuki's chest swell with warmth as he is lulled to sleep in Soushi's arms.

The Hilarious

Soushi once proposed "curry" as their safeword, and Kazuki laughed so hard Soushi didn't get any (but it was worth it tho, to hear Kazuki's laughter)

[pastortomsteers]

THE FIFTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

April 28, 2024

Pastor Tom Steers

Christ the Saviour Lutheran Church, Toronto

OPENING HYMNN:  544  “O Love, How Deep”

Lutheran Service Book

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHASptbZB-A

 

The Invocation   Page 184

 

Pastor:  Halleluiah, Christ is risen!

Congregation:  He is risen indeed.  Halleluiah!

Confession and Absolution   Page 184-185

Introit (read by the Pastor)

                                                                                                                               Psalm 145, Verses 1-2,8,10,21, antiphon John 16: 16

145 I will extol you, my God and King,     and bless your name forever and ever. 2 Every day I will bless you     and praise your name forever and ever. 8 The Lord is gracious and merciful,     slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. 10 All your works shall give thanks to you, O Lord,     and all your saints shall bless you! 21 My mouth will speak the praise of the Lord,     and let all flesh bless his holy name forever and ever.  

16 “A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me.”

Pastor:  Halleluiah, Christ is risen!

Congregation:  He is risen indeed.  Halleluiah!                                                                                                                                 The Kyrie (Lord Have Mercy) 

                                                                                                                               Congregation:                                                                                                                                                                             Lord, have mercy upon us. 

Christ, have mercy upon us. 

Lord, have mercy upon us.

The Salutation –                                                                                                                              Pastor: The Lord be with you.  

Congregation: And also with you. 

Our Collect Payer:

O God, You make the minds of Your faithful to be of one will. Grant that we may love what You have commanded and desire what You promise, that among the many changes of this world our hearts may be fixed where true joys are found; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.  Amen.

Our Bible Readings:

First Reading   Acts 8: 26-40 Psalm 150                                                                                                        Epistle Reading   1st John 4: 1-11

Our Gospel Reading      John 15: 1-9

Hymn & Confession of Faith  954  “We All Believe in One True God”

HYMN OF THE DAY:  633  “At the Lamb’s High Feast We Sing”

SERMON

We are coming closer to the end of the Church season of Easter.

Our Bible readings now start to look forward to Pentecost.

It’s like walking between two great lights.

Today we see the deacon Philip witnessing to the Ethiopian Eunuch.

We also hear the Apostle John urge us to test the spirits and live in love.

Then, Jesus compares our connection to Him as branches to a vine.

Our texts this Sunday speak about the whole human being engaged in the Christian life.

In our Epistle reading, John is making some important connections for us.

Test the spirits, he writes.

This means not all spirits are good ones.

And that there is no true spirituality outside of Christ.

The test John speaks of is simple.

Jesus has come in the flesh.

Confessing Christ in the flesh is about love, John says.

Two things the devil cannot fake, are love and faith.

Love is the very nature of God.

God dwells in us, and He‘s stronger than the one who dwells in the world, satan.

When we love, God Himself is acting through our kindness and compassion shown to one another.

God is also the one acting, through the Holy Spirit, in His Word and the Sacraments of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper.

These are God’s means of grace, instituted by Jesus Himself.

Many in North American Christianity have located the distinction between the saved and the unsaved in the human will.

This is what’s going on when the Baptist and Pentecostal TV preachers call for people to ‘make a decision for Christ.’

They falsely say the difference between you and a person who is lost is what you decide, your ‘willful’ action.

But that simply locates our salvation back inside us, and this is Biblically wrong.

The difference between Christians and people who will be eternally separated from God is not what we’ve done.

We all deserve the down escalator at the end of time.

It is what Christ has done for us on the cross that saves.

And as far as the ‘decision’ issue, Jesus clarified that once and for all when He told the Apostles: ‘You didn’t choose me, I chose you.’

(John 15:16)

The perfection of which John writes about in the Epistle today speaks not about a perfection of the will, but a perfection of love God works in us.

Its root is not found not in us, but in Christ and His cross.

It is Jesus, Himself, who abides and acts through us.

Our focus is always on what Christ has done, and continues to do, through His true Church.

And so, we come to the Gospel reading from John, and the Words of Jesus.

Christ says, in His humble agricultural example, that we receive the very sustenance of life from Him.

What does it mean to ‘abide in Jesus?’

It means that our whole life is lived under the cross and in the light of the empty tomb.

We abide in Jesus when we remember Christ paid for our sins, a payment we could never make.  

When we consider our virtue, we notice that Jesus is the one who puts it there.

There are two ways to fail here.

We could take our sin to another place for forgiveness, to self-salvation or false religions.

But we receive this example, this gift, that Jesus is offering when we realize our only hope is in Him.

The branch, grafted into the vine, soon grows together.

They become one thing.

The branch draws its life from the vine.

God the Father is the vinedresser, we are not.

God connects us to Christ; we don’t connect ourselves to Jesus.

God works faith in Christ within us.

The fruit production is the work of the Lord, even though the labour is ours.

Yet even this labour is impossible for us on our own.

We depend on the gift of the Holy Spirit.

He connects us to Christ in the waters of our Baptism, in the flesh and blood of the Lord’s Supper, in the hearing of the Word, and the forgiving voice of absolution after our confession.

Through those things the very nutrients of God flow into our life and through us into the lives of others.

This enables the good fruit to be born, the gift of life to those who are hungry for God’s Word and salvation.

The Apostle John, who wrote both our Gospel and Epistle readings today, was dealing with a problem in the First Century of some folks who based their faith on false notions of spirituality.

These people said God would not have truly entered the flesh; Jesus must have been a spirit, according to them.

They said Jesus only “seemed” to be human.

Some people John was dealing with were early Gnostics.

These heretics believed it was through secret ‘knowledge’ that we obtain salvation, and that Jesus only really came to save our souls.

But through the work of the Holy Spirit John saw the lie in all this.

The Apostle knew that if Jesus did not take up our humanity, in all its humanness, He did not save it.

If Jesus did mot truly die on the cross, He didn’t pay for our sins.

But He did die, and rose again.

What John also saw with crystal clarity is that when Jesus took up our humanity, He enabled us to love our fellow human being in a different way.

If Jesus only died to save our spirit or soul, then the suffering of our neighbours is just something to be escaped.

But Jesus did come in the flesh, and that means that my neighbour’s humanity has also been redeemed by Christ and is connected to Him.

When we love others, we are loving Jesus.

We do need to remember, though, that our works and the way we treat our neighbour can become matters of sin.

Thankfully our salvation is not dependent on our works.

As John says, our love, when it truly exists, is actually the very presence of God.

Without God dwelling in us, we’re lost, utterly and completely.

We cannot ‘own’ that love as if it’s ours, without God.

Christ is not ashamed to dwell with us.

He is not tainted by our sin.

His holiness alone renders us forgiven.

Our love is not us earning God’s favour, it is the beautiful evidence of God’s favour proclaimed in our Baptism.

Our love is never perfect.

But Jesus does not call saints, he calls sinners, and makes us saints.

May the love of God abide in You, and may You abide in Him, and express His love to others.

Amen.

PRAYERS OF THE CHURCH 

SERVICE OF THE SACRAMENT   Page 194 

                                                                                                       

(Our Communion Hymn is “The Infant Priest Was Holy Born”)                                                                                                                              Communion Collect   (Right-hand column)         Page 201

                                       

CLOSING HYMN:  919  “Abide, O Dearest Jesus”

[ceceliaahathaway]

"Mahogany?" Her smile lingers. Now if only he'd listen and let her sway him into getting that in a linen. OH GOD! The desires she harboured for this man, if granted just one day with him, are unfathomable.

[ Get your head out of the gutter. She was talking about a shopping spree, a professional colour analysis (though she'd say he was autumn), and a trip to Stuart Phillips. Sheesh. ]

Cece was honestly a little touched by his concern, but dismissed it anyway, "I'll have you know Gideon. I frequented all kinds of places similar to this one quite often back in America." While it was true that she was somewhat disconnected from this lifestyle nowadays, it didn't imply she was entirely unfamiliar with it. She could hold her own. She took another sip of her beer to seal the deal. Had it been sold? Probably not entirely just yet, but she had another strategy in place to accomplish that. Not yet, but soon... the night was still young and he'd distracted her. Adam..

She found herself thinking about him, the cash she'd just put in a Hurlingham locker, and hopefully the end to this painful and unbearable idea that she might lose him. He was a loving man, reasonable and sincere, but she knew the moment he found out that she'd cast him aside for doing the Devil's dance in the middle of Harrods, just a little over a year ago.. she'd lose him. She would deserve to. Another sip and she was back! Ready to help a friend.. Just like her past gymnastics lessons had taught her, if you fall you better get back up on that beam or Coach K, will snap your leotard so hard against your skin you'll have tan marks.

"It's supposed to mean what it means.. yes, word got around. Don't come at me, Gideon. It's not my fault your organisation has a bunch of loose lips and gossip priors dwelling inside." Sure it was unpleasant to hear people were talking about your private affairs behind your back (she'd been there. Thanks Charlene), however, this hostility was entirely unjustified.

Too far--

Her eyes prickled. "I'm sorry..." for caring, she almost ended up adding. "I'm..." She looked away. Of course she'd come here partially for herself. She was trying to a shake a few demons. But, she'd also come here in order to help a child. "I'm a mother. I--" She turned back to face him, her eyes glistening from the tears starting to fill them up, "-- heard about your custody battle and heard how much of a good father you were and I just thought, I'm in a position to help, so I should do something." She turned away again, though this time only briefly before she was back around and assaulting him with guilt (maybe). "I'll take a step back. I'll inform him that you have your own strategy to reunite with your child. I'm sorry for bothering you, Gideon. It won't happen again."

Was Cece surprised he'd turned down her offer. Only slightly. She knew it was hard for men, especially men in power (was he powerful? maybe cutting down a tree in his usual lumbar jack gab) and she should've been more delicate with it. Next time. Not with Gideon. No, she was done offering him her kindness and time, but her next charity case. Yes, they would receive her more delicate hand.

She watched as another beer was placed down in front her. Confusion shifting her face towards the man, "sent from table five with a message... when your boyfriend is done breaking up with you come and have a drink with us." Eyes went wide, as she looked down at her new beer, over at the table (young, but not as rugged as she thought she'd find in this area of the woods) and back up to Gideon. "Well, uh, thank you." She was a little embarrassed to tell the truth. Her cheeks blushing.

Eyes back on Gideon, she motioned to her new beer, "didn't go cheap either."

Her mind was made up now. She'd finish her beer. Go home and delete Gideon Rutherford's unappreciative face from her phone forever.

He snorts at that, he really can't help it.

"Wouldn't dream of it," the Rutherford answers, sticking his hands up in a brief show of surrender. Another laugh as he shakes his head, wondering at the sight of her... Here of all places. "But I'll have you know, I even own a pair of mahogany socks."

Gideon doesn't mind Haringey. There's a sobering danger in frequenting the area as a Rutherford— together with the new threats in recent years from the Russians and the French constantly clawing at his father's territory — but he's still convinced it doesn't deserve the reputation it's been given. He's met good people here. Decent people who only want to live and grow their businesses in peace. But that's on the inside.

On the outside, it does look a little... How would Cece put it? — Gently used.

"Please. You know I'd never mean you harm. I only meant that..." The surgeon takes a swig of his beer, wondering how to phrase it delicately, without igniting that infamous Hathaway temper. "He might worry if he knew you were around these parts alone. Let's not pretend it's your usual haunt." Does she have a retinue of plainclothes bodyguards stationed around the place? Gideon spares a glance over one shoulder. He wouldn't put it past her. Why had she chosen Haringey?...

If she'd swung the door of his curiosity, it slams back shut when the explanation follows, Cecelia's too-bright eyes glinting like expensive gemstones.

"Whoa," Gideon blurts, reeling. "What's that supposed to mean?? 'Word got around?'" It drops like acid from his tongue, the mirth that was in his expression a moment ago now fully extinguished. "And why would I need a private investigator?"

He has his sneaking suspicions of course, but he refuses to make it easy for her. Polite, discreet... She'd love that, wouldn't she just? If Cecelia Hathaway knows more about his private affairs than she has any cause to have learned, she can spell it out for him.

But the only thing Cece seems willing to spell out, is the name of her PI as she adds insult to injury by pinching a business card out of her clutch and offering it to him delicately, with an apologetic reference to his 'situation'. "Cece—" he tries to interrupt. 

'He'll need more info, of course but-'

" — You go too far." His tone is cool and abrupt as he pushes his glass of beer away on the counter top. "Help me understand this correctly, Ms. Hathaway. You overheard something, with no idea as to whether it was true or not, and took it upon yourself to ring up a stranger requesting his services on behalf of my... Situation."

... And made it out to be a favour to him, no less. Humiliation slides down the back of his throat. Dripping droplet by droplet like an oil spill in the pit of his stomach. But he refuses to let it show as he watches her, grey eyes hard and unwavering.

"And what situation is that?"

[samicakes-exe]

👉👈 hey so I saw the one with the ghost boys and the squirting and I gotta say. Brilliant work.

If you do write for house if wax... Could I get an s/o that flusters easily and squirts easily with Bo? If not, I'll take the same with ol Mikey?

𝙰𝚑𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝!!! 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚖  such 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚘𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛  a lil 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖, 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝙸 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚊 a lil of 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑? I think 𝚢𝚘𝚞'll 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛 <𝟹 

 𝚙𝚕𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 <𝟹 <3 

 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 b𝚘: roughly like 3k words                                                    𝚊𝚢𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚘, 𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?? 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚗 :)

beep beep warning beep beep: smut smut n more smut, forced orgasms, degradation, humiliation, roughness, dumbification a lil, teasing, knife!!, being held down, being spat on, size kink, cunnilingus, creampies, fingering, unprotected sex, threats, marking, grinding, public-ish place?? ,over-stimulation, intense eye contact while fucking,  Afab reader, more feminine pet names, Bo being a cocky bitch, ya know it is!

𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 <𝟹:

Bo Sinclair:

Congrats, you only fueled his ego more!

He loves it when you get all red in the face especially in front of the male tourists.

You playfully slap his thigh, thinking that'll make him cool off a bit lol it won't but nice try.

He'll make sure to whisper something absolutely filthy in your ear when you're talking to one, only to see you stammer and chew on words in front of them, your lil head full of dirty lil thoughts.

It gives him such a damn rush to see how easily he could make you like this.

As for squirting, oh boy you're in for a long looooooong night!

First time you did it- he was hooked

It filled him with such a desire/drive to see you do it again

and again

and again

Soon enough, your both soaked, you're seeing stars and bo is chuckling.

but he isn't done for the night-

Honestly, he might even bring it up as a bragging point only to fluster you more, rip

good luck hon. you're gonna need it.

𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝙾𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙼𝚢 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛 <3:

You found yourself in the kitchen with your cheeks all red, maybe it was from the Louisiana summer or was it from Bo? All those little things he said in front the visitors, pressed up against you. His growing erection right against your ass, the even littler things he whispered in your ear, his breath was just as hot as your cheeks are now. It stuck with ya, running around in your head but showed itself on your face.

Soon you buried your face in your hands, resting up against the counter with your foot tapping on the tile. You breathed out a soft. “fuck,” cursing your brain for dwelling on each and every word. 

heavens forbid Bo walks in on ya. 

“Darlin’  I’m home!” Speak of the devil, Bo’s voice echoed through the house, followed by the sound of the screen-door. The muscles in your face twitched and scrunched up a bit in response, curse these thin fucking walls.

Bo’s brows furrowed when he didn’t get a response from you. “Baby-doll, Ya good?” 

You picked your face up from your hands, gathering all of the nerves you had left just to shout back, “Welcome back babe! I’m all good! “ Your voice was shaky which made a deep pit form in his stomach, twisting and knotting itself up. Soon, you heard his heavy footsteps on their way to the kitchen, making the floorboards creak and groan. 

He was at the doorway in record time, gripping tightly onto the frame, his knuckles white. The worry he once had melted away immediately, seeing the blushing mess that you were now, no wonder you were shaky. A small smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. He let his body relax a bit while one of his hands loosened his belt. The jangle of the metal make your pussy twitch. He chuckled. 

He read you like a book just based on your actions but he played dumb, “Darlin’ dont tell me that ya uh.. still hung up on what I said, right?” His voice was teasing, he laid his accent on thick. he knew how your body, well mostly your pussy reacted to it.

he made his way over to you, the smirk stretched itself wider on his lips. 

fuck, he knew, Of course he knew. Your breath hitched itself up into your throat, your hands going to cover the now worsening blush but Bo grabbed each of them, pinning them down at your sides. “Don’t hide that pretty little face from me, baby” He seemingly purred, placing his knee in-between your thighs. 

you were pinned there, you and him knew that you weren’t gonna fight back. so you stayed, sitting pretty.

Bo watched the blush on your face spread all the way up to the tips of your ears and how you averted your eyes every time he tried to make eye contact with you. He let go of your right hand but leaned more into you instead, his body weight kept you pinned, not like you were gonna move anyways. The kitchen counter making an indent into the skin of your back as it pressed against it, hard.

He reached, grabbing your face with his hand, forcing you to look at him finally. He had the biggest grin and a fire lit in his eyes. He looked like a man, possessed. It terrified you to no end but it also lit the same fire, it showing on your cheeks once more. 

“Now Now.. dont make a hardworking man beg sugar~” His voice was like butter but it made only you melt, right in front of his eyes too. “Did my little teasing effect you this bad baby~ I bet you’re reeeal wet right now, huh?”

a needy look flashed on your face before the slight embarrassment hooked its teeth in. Your eyes went to look anywhere but your darling Bo, the peeling wallpaper, the fridge, the open door...Oh fuck, his brothers could walk in. “I-I” You were about to mention it but His knee pushed against your clothed pussy and your brain rattled, shaking every single thought out of it besides him, god, you wanted him so bad you could taste it in-between your teeth.

“Tell me little punk.i wont ask ya again” 

His tone plus the knee pressed on your clit, you and him both knew it was a threat along the lines of ‘You better answer or you’re in for a long night.’

You couldnt speak or even think for that matter and his deep rumbling chuckles didn’t help you in the slightest, it only added logs to the fire that you felt on your cheeks. a broken up breath in was all you needed to think clearly as your eyes found their way back to Bo’s intense gaze, his eyes burning with a deep desire.

“y...ye...yes. I’m all flustered.” You stuttered the words out, each one oafishly falling off of your tongue. your answer was met with Bo grinding his knee slowly into your cunt.

slow. it was so fucking slow. 

“Who got you all flustered, sweet thang? was it those tourists?” Bo asked. He let your face go but the grip marks from his hand stayed. your unpinned hand held onto his thigh, squeezing it terribly hard. 

He knew he made you like this. He knew how much your pussy craves him but he wanted to hear you admit to it right here in the kitchen.

A surprised sharp moan left your mouth, it sounded more of a squeak than a moan, “You! You! Darlin’ only you!”  you answered quickly in hopes he would speed up. 

he was amused, now speeding up his knee, it pressed itself into your clit which made a familiar knot in your stomach tightened. Bo smirked, seeing your reaction, A long whine ripped itself out from your lungs when he slowed down once more but thankfully he started them up again this time, pressing harder into your throbbing clit.

God, it felt like heaven. 

“Good girl~”

With his praises maybe it was heaven. 

This went on for about 2 minutes, with Bo bent down, his body surrounding you, drowning you but honestly you did not care. His soft praises were like a nice tall glass of beer, intoxicating, you just sat there pressed into the kitchen counter, enjoying grinding yourself back onto his knee. His praises rang throughout your head, until they were cut off with a soft,  

“Ohh darling.” Bo pulled away himself and his knee, much to your displeasure. he grabbed hold of your chin, making you look towards the knee you enjoyed so much, there was a pool of juices. right on his work jeans. “Why dont you look at that? He fought off a smug giggle. 

Thoughts finally settled like dust and the thought of you leaving that big spot sank it, eyes widened in up embarrassment and before you could stutter up an apology. Bo had hoisted you up onto the counter, finally giving your back a lil break. 

Bo’s lips turned from a smirk to a genuine smile but he had to feign annoyance,  “Dammit baby how am I gonna explain this to the tourists?” He teased while he leaned into you once more, and your legs squeezed his hips, that was all you could do, your tongue tied and brain jumbled but your body knew well.

Bo tsked underneath his breath, bringing your body closer into his own. He hummed against your neck, his mouth finding itself in the crook of it, he placed sloppy kisses that felt more like bites.

meanwhile you felt your face heat up once more, your brain scrambling to put a sentence together, the best it could do for you was  “I.. I... dunno”  your voice was your biggest give-away of you being flustered, sounding like a deer in headlights and it turned on Bo even more.

“I... I?” He mocked you in-between spreading marks on your neck. “Should I just tell them that my girlfriend did this?”

The way you tensed up underneath him almost made him groan into your neck, almost. He stopped his rough kisses.

“My sexy girlfriend rubbed herself against my knee? god, she almost came~” His teases and tone made your brain overheat, you really couldn’t think now and he knew it by the look in your eyes. “Just because of me just doing thiss~”

This time he pressed his thigh into your needy cunt, not moving it. The muscles in your legs tensed up around him. He watched your face twisted into a pleading look and a choked out moan came out while another puddle worked itself into his work jeans.

The smiled turned into a proud grin, proud of what he could make you into. He slowly so very slowly pulled his leg back and your hands grabbed onto his shoulders for support, your own thighs now twitching. nails digging through his work shirt and into his skin.

A loud groan erupted from his throat and the weak little moan that uttered from you knocked him over the edge, his eyes boring into yours. watching you closely as he hastily pulled your skirt down, your panties coming off with it. 

“Bo please fuck me.. I.. I need you. I needed you all day.” You confessed quickly, your body craving him so bad, another touch of his and you might cum.

“That’s all i wanted baby, ya see?” 

You gave him an enthusiastic nod which made him bite his lower lip, compliance was the way to go for him always. 

He leaned his head onto your bruised and bitten neck as his hands went to undo his pants. He was the one who couldn’t think now, he wanted to fuck his aching cock into you so damn bad. wanted to feel your hot little pussy around his cock, twitching while you cu-

“Fuck” he growled to himself while he begrudging pulled away. it drew a pathetic little please from you. 

Bo dropped to his knees on the hard tile resembling a sinner in church. his eyes at the same level as your already dripping cunt, the sight made his mouth water. 

Those strong hands of his, brought your pussy to his waiting mouth where he ate like a man starved, feasting on your cunt. His tongue reached deep into you, the walls of your pussy twitching on his tongue, sucking it in and then pushing it out. instinctively, your hips bucking, trying to ride his mouth but his hands that gripped onto your thighs made you stay put. 

All you could do was sit there and moan, somewhat cheering him on with the noises you made as he fucked you with his tongue. “Good god! fuck bo!” You didn’t realized that you were speaking, urging him on.

The knot only tightened when his tongue and sucking lips found that throbbing clit of yours. His groans filled your cunt while your pathetic little sounds found filled his ears. 

“Bo..bo..bo! I might cumm, god, I might cum!” The tone of your voice was pathetic, how you tried to fuck yourself back onto him was pathetic and how your pussy throbbed just by moaning his name was pathetic. 

he fucking loved it  

he fucking craved it 

Another long moan passed your lips, sounding almost guttural as he stuffed two fingers into your drooling cunt. He lifted his head up to see just how much of a mess you were right now, how close you were to falling off of the edge. He pushed into that spongy spot and watched how your body reacted it with a wide grin. 

you almost came right then but somehow you found the strength not to, much to his dismay.

“Come on darlin’~ fucking cum you know you want to.” His voice was rough and so was his fingers, punishing your poor g-spot with cruel presses into it. “Look at me baby, I wanna see your face while I make you cum, got it?”

following orders, you lifted your head to look at right at him, drool dripping off of your bottom look. you were so so close to cumming and he could tell.

Bo sped up his fingers, reaching deeper into you, stretching you with his two fingers, when his thumb started pushing, grinding itself onto your clit that was when the knot snapped.

You squealed, shaking the entire kitchen with it. You saw white and continued to do so for a bit coming off of your high, slumped against the cabinet, completely out of it until you heard a familiar chuckle, a rather smug chuckle. 

Bo was licking his fingers and thumb clean, “Goddamn~ love.” His whispered mostly to himself but he saw you looking at him. His face was drenched with your squirt. 

immediately your face turned a bright red over the flushed look your body already had. 

Bo tsked as he stood up once ore, finally undoing his belt, you heard the metal on it clang against the tile.��“You’re gonna do that on my cock, ya hear?” all you could do was nod.

He pressed the head of his cock right against your needy opening. His eyes looking into yours before he thrust deep, stretching your little pussy on his cock in one go. 

Both of you moaned together, your bodies falling onto each other. Bo’s face back into your bruised neck and your nails finding themselves into those indents from earlier.  It took a second for both of y’all to recuperate, 

Bo finally rocked his hips, pumping into your sweet little pussy while his mouth suck and bite onto the already marked skin. Weak little noises crawled out of your throat, you fucked yourself back onto him and this time he didn’t hold you still

You two wanted to cum so bad, fucking each other. Bo thrusts were getting rough, his cock jamming itself into your g-spot and soon that knot came back sooner than you expected. 

Bo was murmuring utter nonsense into your neck, his accent the thickest you ever heard it before. he fucked into you hard, stuffing you full of cock. The need to see you squirt was the only thing keeping him from pumping you full of cum right now especially how your pussy was milking him. 

“B...bo fuck fuck fuck!” You saw white again, it felt like your body was taking a screenshot while bo grunted, flooding your pussy with two loads worth of cum. seeing you squirt was enough to send him over the edge. 

“Good girl.. good girl..” he grunted into your neck, still thrusting his cum into you. 

“I love you bo. “ you whispered to him when you came off of your high for the second time, 

“i love you too.” bo placed a sweet kiss onto your lips, you kissed him back just as sweet. A little moan enter the kiss when you felt him thrust into you once more. 

He wanted to see you squirt just one more time.

<𝟹 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 <𝟹:

Micheal Meyers:

He wasn’t entirely aware of his effect on you, he was mostly confused.

Why were you gripping on him tighter

Why were you burying your face in his arm when he looked at you in a certain way

When you mustered enough courage to tell him, he did it more often

on purpose now-

He would bring you up to him, comparing how small you were compared to his like 6′0 to 6′9 frame (Look there is a lot of different answers to how tall he is, just pick a height you like lol)

He would look down at you with his intense eyes, seemingly fucking you with them while you two stood in line for food. 

speaking of that day, you couldn’t even speak to order food. Mikey had to sign for you both. 

Squirting, well pee-paw mike was surprised at first, thinking that it was a weird. 

until you did it more and more. 

If hes fucking you and you squirted- golly gee, hes fucking into you harder

possibly making you cum/squirt even more now.

thanks micheal