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babyfoxflower · 2 months ago

Text

Professor

Human! Professor! Alastor x Fem! Reader

Modern College AU

Part 2 of 2 (Part 1)

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Age Gap (Alastor is 32 and Reader is 22), Soft! Dom Alastor, Oral Sex (Fem! Receiving), P in V Sex, Reader calls Al “Daddy,” Creampie

You groaned, “Fuck.”

You woke up to something soft rubbing against your face. You opened your eyes to see a cat drooling on your face.

I don’t have a cat.

You then realize that you’re not at home. The memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Immediate embarrassment washed over you. You sat up.

“Morning, Sunshine!”

“Morning, Professor,” the smell of bacon filled your nose.

“Come now, we’re not in class. Please call me Alastor,” he smiled at you.

Your vision focused to see Alastor making bacon and eggs.

“Hope you don’t mind, I made you breakfast. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

“No, I love eggs and bacon. Thank you…Alastor,” his name felt strange on your tongue, but you liked it.

Your attention turned to the cat, her fur was pure white and she had big green eyes.

“Your cat is cute. What’s her name?” You asked.

“Oh, thank you. She is quite lovely, isn’t she? Her name’s Luna.”

“Luna? Like the moon?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t she remind you of a full moon?”

You studied her for a moment, “Yes, I suppose she does….” You grinned as you pet her.

“Breakfast is ready,” Alastor said casually as if this situation was normal.

Does he not feel how awkward this is? I, a student, came over drunk and tried to seduce him. This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done.

“Alright, thank you,” you replied as you got out of his bed, smoothing out the sheets the best you could, and moved to the couch.

Alastor sat down next to you and handed you your breakfast along with a fork for the eggs.

“I can make you some toast too, if you’d like?”

“No, thank you. You’re very kind, but this should be enough for now.”

As soon as you took a bite of those soft scrambled eggs, you couldn’t stop. You didn’t necessarily scarf them down, put you did eat them rather quickly.

“I assuming by your expressions, the eggs were good?” He grinned like the Cheshire Cat, he had also finished his portion.

“Mm, yes, they were delicious! They might be the best eggs I’ve ever had, what did you put in them?”

“Mayonnaise. It adds creaminess and deepens the flavor.”

“Mayo? I usually hate mayo. But this tasted amazing.”

“I also butter the pan instead of using cooking spray.”

“My, aren’t you quite the chef?” You chuckled.

“I learned from the best. However, I can’t quite get them to taste like my mom’s. I don’t know what her secret is, she won’t even tell me!” He laughed.

“Are you close to your mom?” You asked before taking a bite of bacon, trying to make light conversation.

“Yes. I don’t get to see her that often anymore. She still lives in New Orleans. But I try to keep in touch with her as much as I can.”

“Oh, are you from New Orleans?”

“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised,” he said with a Southern drawl, there was pride in his voice.

“Ooo, I like that accent. Is it natural or put on?”

“Natural, however I’ve lost it a bit.”

“I guess moving so far up North will do that,” you smiled.

“Well, it didn’t help me keep it. That’s for sure,” he laughed. “How are you feeling, Darling? Does your head hurt at all?” He changed the subject.

“No, surprisingly. That Tylenol from last night must have worked.”

“I told you. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you. You have a very comfortable mattress.”

You have a very comfortable mattress? Way to sound like a normal person, Y/n.

“Are you sure you’re alright, dear? You keep making uncomfortable faces.”

“I’m alright, I just…feel a little awkward….”

“Why?”

“Because of last night.”

“Oh, there’s no need to feel awkward about that.”

“But I embarrassed myself.”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t even do anything wrong, my dear,” he flashed you a reassuring smile.

“Still, that was the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” you looked down at your bare feet, the shine of your red toe nail polish catching the light.

Alastor placed his plate on the coffee table before lifting up your chin, making you look at him, “Y/n, what you did in the grand scheme of things wasn’t even that bad. You haven’t at all changed my opinion of you, I still like and respect you. We all have rough nights, Darlin’.”

You put your plate down next to his. You brought your hand to his, giving it a light squeeze. He squeezed yours back.

“You want me to tell you an embarrassing story from my college days?” He asked.

“Yes,” you smiled.

The two of you leaned back on the couch. You rested your head on your arm as you listened intently to his story.

“Let’s see, it was my junior year, and my friends and I went out for a drinks. Back then, I wasn’t really good at pacing myself and would often end up getting plastered. Fast forward to the end of the night and I was stumbling up the steps to my apartment building. It was at that moment I realized that I had lost my key to my apartment.”

“Oh no.”

“Hold on, it gets worse. For some reason in my drunken state, I convinced myself that I couldn’t get in the building itself without my key,” he shook his head, “So I got this genius idea, I would scale the building all the way up to my roommate’s window and knock on it until he’d let me in.”

“Oh my god, did you fall!?”

“No, I actually succeeded in climbing up there. Amazingly, as it was on the tenth floor. The problem was my roommate wasn’t waking up. No matter how hard I banged on that window, he would not get out of bed. I was about to give up and find somewhere else to sleep that night, when I heard the sound of sirens.”

You knew where this was going, “Someone called the cops?”

“Someone called the cops.”

“What happened after that?”

“I explained everything to them the best I could. And then they informed me I didn’t need to have my key to get into the building, I could just have one of my neighbors buzz me in. I felt like the stupidest person alive,” he laughed.

“Did you ever make it to your apartment?” You giggled.

“Yes, it turns out that it wasn’t even locked. My roommate had a habit of not locking up before bed. And I didn’t even lose my key, it was in my back pocket,” Alastor visibly cringed, mentally face palming. “So, you see, my dear, you have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Do you feel better now?”

“A little bit. Thank you, Alastor,” you blushed.

“Of course, Sweetheart,” he smiled.

You started to feel more at ease. There was something about him that made you feel safe and warm. You knew that you picked the right person to be with.

For whatever reason, a memory popped into your mind from last night. You remembered something Alastor had said to you before you went to sleep.

“I promise, if you’re still interested in the morning when you’re sober, I will give you exactly what you want.”

A small grin made its way on your face.

“You know, I think there’s something on your glasses. Let me get it off for you,” you moved from your spot on the couch and straddled his lap.

You took his glasses off his face carefully and pretended to examine them.

The whole time he had this smile on his face that made it evident that he knew exactly what you were doing and he was throughly enjoying it.

“Oh, my mistake. It must just been the light,” you slid his glasses back on him, smoothly tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

He chuckled, “If you wanted to sit in my lap, you could have just asked. I wouldn’t have said no.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re quite charming, you know that?”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes, very much so. And quite gorgeous too, if I may be so bold?” He stroked your cheek bone with his thumb.

“You may. I wanted to ask you something?” You wrapped your arms around him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist in turn, “Yes? What is it, dollface?”

You blushed at the old timey term of endearment, “Do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“I said many things to you last night. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

You leaned in close to his ear, “You said, “if you’re still interested in the morning when you’re sober, I’ll give you exactly what you want,” well guess what? I’m still very interested.”

“Are you, now?” A sultry smirk formed on his lips. His hands slid down from your waist to your hips.

“Yes,” you nodded.

He squeezed your hips lightly. “I’m glad we’re on the same page then.”

You let out a little yelp as he lifted you up and carried you over to the bed. His cat immediately ran to hide under the sofa, as if she knew what was about to happen.

He laid you down on the bed, before crawling on top of you.

Alastor leaned in and you expected him to kiss your lips, but instead he started planting kisses up and down your neck.

“You tease!”

“Now, now. Patience is a virtue, my dear,” his breath hot against your skin.

“But I want to kiss you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You will. Just relax and let Daddy take care of you.”

Fuck that’s hot.

His words made your core heat up even more.

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he praised.

He returned to kissing your neck, nice and slow. The warmth of his mouth mixed with the cold of his glasses made for an interesting sensation. His mouth supple and skillful. He definitely knew what he was doing. He reached a particular place that had you moaning like crazy.

“Ahh…ahh…ahh.”

You had never experienced so much pleasure from something as simple as neck kissing before.

You could feel him smirking against your neck. He began focusing all his attention on that one spot. You ran your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep going. Kisses slowly turned into gentle sucking, producing a wet sound.

Alastor switched back and forth between kissing and sucking. You bit down on your lip as you let out little mews and moans. You noticed he started sucking down on your neck slightly harder.

Is he giving me a hickey?

He gave one final firm suck before pulling away with a satisfying pop.

After taking a moment to admire not just his handiwork but how absolutely breathtaking you looked, your face flushed and eyes darkened over with lust - which matched his own - and full of desperation, at last his lips finally met your needy ones.

Again the kissing started off slow, a sensual exchange between two tender mouths. Lips moved in sync with each others. Soft moans filled the room. His fingertips teasingly traced over your curves.

You tilted your head to the side, suddenly feeling his warm wet tongue on your bottom lip. He ran his tongue across the shape of your lip, wanting entry. You denied him playfully.

“Oh, so you’re going to be naughty, hmm?”

You didn’t respond, instead just smiling cheekily.

He locked lips with you again but this time, he bit down on your bottom lip and tugged on it a few times, not hard but enough to make you to make gasp.

“Oh Daddy, you have some sharp canines!”

Alastor took advantage of your open mouth, and slid his tongue in. You flicked the tip of his tongue with yours before letting him explore. It tickled slightly when he licked the roof of your mouth. You licked the soft underside of his tongue.

It took you a minute to notice that his sneaky hands found their way under your shirt and were unhooking your bra. You didn’t even have to help him, he got it off of you faster than any other guy you had ever been with. You were practically purring as those big strong hands of his started massaging your sensitive mounds. He groaned at how wonderful your tits felt in his palms. How easily they squished for him.

He continued to stimulate one of your breasts with one hand as he used his other hand to lift up your shirt. You helped him get it off of you. The sudden rush of cold air gave you goosebumps.

His eyes lit up, “You’re beautiful. Every inch of you is absolutely gorgeous, Darlin’.”

Those words were enough to turn you into a blushing mess with butterflies in your stomach.

“Please, Daddy. Just take me,” you begged as you pushed your bosoms together.

“Oh, I will. But please allow me the honor of getting to taste you first, Baby,” he raised an eyebrow seductively.

“Wait, you’ll actually do that?”

“Yes, I bet you taste divine. But of course if you’re not comfortable with it…”

“No I am, it’s just…this would the first time.”

“Oh I see, well then I’ll have to make sure that’s it’s extra enjoyable for you,” he grinned.

Alastor began kissing his way down from your collarbone to your chest, from your chest to your stomach, and from your stomach to the seam of your jean shorts - they were the ones that were high rise and had three buttons. Slowly, he unbuttoned them one by one before undoing the zipper. All the while, he watched as you bit your lip from anticipation.

He smirked, “No panties?”

“I thought it would be a pleasant surprise,” you winked.

“Indeed it was, my little peach,” he rid you of your remaining item of clothing.

He spread your legs open, licking his lips at the sight of your soaking pussy. You let out a little squeak as he lifted up your hips and pulled you closer. You wondered what it was even going to feel like. You had only ever been fingered.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Alastor planted a kiss on your inner thigh, “Are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

You lightly grasped his hair as he slowly ran his tongue up and down your labia. It felt so warm. You covered your mouth to try to muffle the amount of moans that were escaping you. He continued with long strokes from your clit to your entrance. You could feel him groaning against your vulva as if you were the best thing he ever tasted. The vibrations only added to the pleasant sensation.

Suddenly, you felt a finger enter you. It reached up deep in your cunt until it found that special place inside of you. He added another one of his nimble fingers, stimulating your sweet spot with a come hither motion.

“Daddy,” you drooled.

You closed your eyes, tears starting to form around your eyes.

“Baby, look at me.”

“No! It feels too good!”

“Please, dear, look at me.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him, his face buried in your pussy.

“Good girl,” he praised, “Also, don’t muffle your adorable noises so much. I quite enjoy them.”

“Ye…yesss, Daddy.”

You gripped onto the sheets, making sure to keep eye contact with him. Your wails of pleasure mixed with the squelching sounds coming from your cunt. The smell of sex filled the air.

Alastor’s attention turned to your clit, flicking it a few times with his tongue. To which you made a noise that you had never made in your entire life. It was not long until you felt that coil tightening in your stomach, your walls fluttering on his fingers.

“…’m close…” you managed to get out.

“Is that so? I better pick up the pace then,” a smug smirk made its way onto his face.

Before you could even ask what that meant, he latched his mouth down on your bundle of nerves, his head bobbing slightly as he sucked. His fingers moved in and out of you faster. Your head fell back and your toes curled as you felt that coil, not just come undone, but snap. You screamed out his name as you gushed all over him. He gladly drank up all the nectar that you gave him, moaning as he savored every last drop.

You laid there for a seconds while coming down from your high, you breath heavy. That was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. It was as if your soul had ascended out of your body.

Alastor gave one final little kiss on your clit, “Mmm, that was absolutely delicious. My compliments to the chef.”

You chuckled lightly, “I’m glad you enjoyed your meal.”

“Meal? That was merely the appetizer,” he smiled, licking your remaining juices of his fingers.

He got up and began to undress. You watched him intently as he unbuttoned his shirt. He was lean and muscular. That with his handsome face, lovely eyes, and gorgeous hair, he was absolute smoke show.

“My, oh my, Daddy, I didn’t know you had a six pack!” You licked your lips, “and look at those guns too. Absolutely scrumptious.”

“Stop, you’re going to make me self conscious,” he joked.

“Please, you have a beautiful body,” you said looking him up and down.

“Not as beautiful as yours,” he replied.

“You always know what to say,” you blushed.

“Well, I am a Communications professor,” he said as he unbuckled his belt.

That’s right, you had almost forgotten that he was a professor, your professor.

Oh well, already made it this far with him. Might as well keep going.

You flipped over onto your stomach, facing him, “Do you mind if I help you with this last part, Daddy?” You reached out, fingering the button of his pants.

“Be my guest, dollface,” he grinned.

You slowly undid the button, before pulling down the zipper. Excitement washed over you as you helped free his hardened member from his boxers. Not only was it big but pretty too.

You took it into your hand, pumping it a few times, “Mmm…Daddy, you have a nice big cock.”

He let out a deep moan as you gently wrapped your lips around the head, letting your tongue run across the tip.

“Ah, as lovely as that feels, my darling,” Alastor took hold of your chin, “I don’t think I can wait much longer to fuck your pretty little pussy.”

His smooth voice, like velvet, sent a shiver through you. He pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva connected your lips to the tip of his dick.

He finished taking off his pants and boxers before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You crawled backwards, lips still locked with his, on the bed until your head reached the pillows. You adjusted your head on the soft pillow until you find the right position.

“Comfortable?” He asked.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

He smiled and brushed your hair out of your face, “Let me know if you need or simply want to stop, alright? Your comfort is my number one priority, my dear.”

You stroked his face, “You’re so sweet. I’ll let you know.”

He lifted your leg and placed on his shoulder before lining himself up with your entrance.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, please fuck me, Daddy.”

You took a deep breath as he started to ease himself into your pussy. Your walls stretched to accommodate his large cock. Little moans escaped your lips. He groaned in satisfaction.

“Fuck…” he hissed, “Your cunt fits me perfectly, Baby. Like you were made to take me.”

You blushed. “Maybe I was…” you mumbled under your breath.

Alastor suddenly reached that special place inside of you, to which you mewed loudly. He smirked and rolled his hips. You reached down to rub your clit, but he beat you to it.

He began to thrust in and out of you, slow and steady, making sure to hit that spot inside you every time. His name kept slipping past your lips, “Alastor…Alastor…oh, Alastor.”

He put his forehead to yours, making sure the only thing you could focus on was him, “Y/n, you sound so pretty,” he moaned before kissing you.

You traced the muscles of his back as you returned his kisses. You carefully removed your leg from his shoulder before wrapping both of your legs around his waist. You wanted him to be as close to you as possible.

He took hold of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours, gently pinning your arms against the pillow, as he positioned himself so that his pubic bone was stimulating your bundle of nerves. You moved your hips in rhythm with his.

As soon as he pulled away, you took the opportunity to plant a few kisses on his Adam’s apple. You were planning on giving him a hickey to match the one he gave you. He moaned, the vibrations tickling your lips. You got your mouth as low as you possibly could, before starting to suck.

“You naughty little thing,” he playfully scolded.

You kissed and sucked his tender skin until you were satisfied that it left a mark.

“What? I’m just returning the favor,” you innocently said.

You let out a yelp as Alastor suddenly picked up the pace. It was then you realized that coil was tightening in stomach again, your spongy walls fluttering on his big cock.

“I’m…close,” you moaned.

“Cum for me, baby, come undone on my cock,” he licked the shell of your ear.

The bed creaked, the lewd sound of slurping mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin, accompanied by the chorus of moans and sighs. Alastor looked into your eyes as you had yet your second orgasm. This time, your eyes rolled back, your mouth agape.

He groaned nonstop as your pussy milked him, coaxing him to climax as well. But he wouldn’t let himself just yet. He fucked you through your high.

“Roll over for me, Darlin’.”

“What?” You asked.

“Please, I want to feel you cum just one more time,” he kissed your forehead.

“Alright,” you rolled over on your stomach.

You had never been taken from behind before.

“Oh, you’re gorgeous from this position too,” he said as he ran his hands down your back.

He paused when he got to your lower back before squeezing your ass, “Cute tattoo,” you could feel him smirking.

You had a little heart tattoo on your left cheek. You blushed, burying your face into the pillow, “Thank you.”

He chuckled before reinserting himself into you, “You’re adorable, you know that?”

He soon found an even rhythm. He planted kisses on your shoulder. You purred as he took one of your tits into his hand, massaging your nipple with his thumb. His other hand found its way on your swollen clit, rubbing circles on it.

“Feels so good, Daddy!” You cried out as you reached behind you, gripping his hair.

“Keep pulling my hair,” he huffed into your ear.

You obeyed and tugged lightly on it as you were reaching your third climax. The coil built up and came undone. This time when you milked him, you could feel him twitching inside of you.

“Fuck. I’m close,” he growled in your ear.

“Cum inside me, Daddy,” you begged.

“Are you sure, dollface?”

“Yeah…it’s fine…I’m on the pill.”

Alastor moaned your name as he filled your cunt with his hot cum.

“So warm,” you moaned, stroking your lower stomach.

He collapsed on top of you, his member softening inside you. Both of you were covered in sweat, faces flushed, panting.

He rolled over next to you, pulling you into his arms. You turned your body so that you could face him.

Alastor smiled and kissed you gently, “You’re…perfect...”

“No…that’s…all you. Mister ‘I value the woman’s pleasure over my own.’ You are a dream come true.”

He laughed, “I’m far from perfect, Sweetheart. I just try to make others happy. Though, I’ll admit the only person happiness I’m interested in is yours now.”

You blushed, “I feel the same. I’m only interested in making you happy.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he pulled you even closer to him.

“Alastor?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Can we do this again sometime?”

“Only if you let me buy you dinner first next time,” he grinned.

“Nothing would make me happier,” you smiled brightly, snuggling up in his chest.

He hummed as he stroked your hair, fully satisfied in every way possible.

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maxwell-grant · 2 months ago

Note

I think it’s interesting, considering how most live-action superhero adaptations kill off the villains after their debut, that both The Batman and The Penguin end with the villains not just living, but set up to return and somehow cause Even Bigger Problems down the line. Is this just because it’s the first Batman film adaptation that’s a capital-F Franchise, so the writers need the villains to stick around long-term, or is something else going on?

Almost entirely comes down to the fact that The Batman was not meant to be Batman's origin story - by Reeves' own admission, it was the origin story of the Rogues Gallery. They got the Cloverfield and Dawn of the Planet of the Apes guy and he did a story about the boots-on-the-ground gritty perspective on larger-than-life terrors emerging from the ruins and failings of human civilization, taking the struggles and wars and laborious processes that others shy away from and putting them front in center. It's just this time, instead of kaijus and parasites attacking and destroying the city, instead of apes emerging as the Mad Max warlords rising from the ashes to fight over the world, we have Batman villains in that role instead.

To me, that was actually the conception - if we weren't going to do a Batman origin story, but we were going to do it in the early years, I thought well, in the comics, the rogues gallery characters often are creating their alter egos in response to the fact that a masked vigilante shows up in Gotham called the Batman.

And so I thought, oh well, what we could do is see all of the rogue's gallery characters in their origins, like Selina Kyle before she's Catwoman, and that we could go into, as we're looking for a suspect, we could go to a nightclub, a nightclub could be the Iceberg Lounge and we could see a pre-kingpin Oz, and we could see, you know, a Riddler who is declaring himself the Riddler sort of because there's a Batman. And so all of that was sort of built into the conception. - Matt Reeves

It's far from the first Batman film adaptation to be a capital-F Franchise, even if that aspect was there - Reeves initially pitched the movie as an HBO series, and throughout production pitched additional show ideas such as an Arkham show or a Gotham PD show, The Penguin being the only one that survived as far as we know. This pulls off an origin from the Rogues Gallery better than every other Batman media ever made, and there's a couple of reasons why it does so and why the villains get to take center stage here:

Part of the difference between the way Nolan tackled realistic Batman, and the way Reeves tackles realistic Batman, is that Nolan needs realism to explain Batman, and Reeves needs realism entirely in the service of making Batman weirder. Pattison Batman is the weirdest Bruce ever put on film almost entirely because he lives in our world while still being Batman in every way that counts - Keaton Bats slept upside down in a cave, but he lived in a Tim Burton world. Adam West Bats is weird, but everybody is like that or even weirder than he is, he is the comedic straightman to everyone else. And where as Nolan needs Batman to be the thing that makes sense, Reeves needs Batman to be the thing that doesn’t make sense.

Nolan wanted weird difficult irreducible villains opposite a logical pragmatically sensible Batman, and Reeves wants exactly the opposite. For Nolan, even besides the Joker who was defined entirely around the lack of a real explanation for him, you have his take on Two-Face, Bane, the Al Ghuls, characters that don't demand that much reasoning or explanation because they can act and exist in ways that defy logic, while Batman's the guy who has to hold the center of logic and reason. Where as here, Pattison Batman is the most interesting and complicated and larger-than-life figure this world is dealing with in much the same way that Ledger Joker was for his movie, and everyone else is in the position of starting out and having to deal with Batman and the paradigm shift he brings - nobody else in the movie is quite the character they were supposed to be, that's something they're all growing into in response to their nightmare city and what this titanic freak in armor represents to them.

Even The Riddler is ultimately explainable, human, reducible to his tantrums and vulnerabilities, even without you knowing in-depth his character and backstory that would be elaborated for Dano's Year One. Even The Penguin - he may be larger-than-life, he may be unexplainable on some level, but we know all too well all of his failings and feelings and life story and all the cracks in his persona that he killed Victor to try and bury. But Batman? Next to everyone else, he is still an anomaly, he is just Like That, even to his own detriment and that of the city, and he learns that he must apply being Like That to something better.

Reeves is not interested in doing "Batman vs [X]" movies, the movies are going to be focused on Batman's arc first and foremost, which means the villains will never really take them over the way they've usually done - this is a world where it's the villains who react to Batman, not the other way around. This frees them from the burden of having to exist in direct relation to how much they can directly menace Batman, and it makes it so that these are characters that can carry their own spin-offs, which is probably a lot easier for WB to work with because these are spin-offs that they don't really have to get Pattison to show up for, but they can construct in ways that don't even need Batman to be physically there. Even after The Penguin, they might not have to do that Smallville/Gotham song-and-dance of teasing a main character who'll never get to be here, there are a lot of other things happening in Reeves' Gotham besides the existence of Batman, even if the existence of Batman has changed all of them. So structurally speaking this series has a ton of room for reocurring villains, and building it has been one of their top priorities. In fact, this ONLY gets to do so because the movie already laid out the entire groundwork for them and how it all ties together.

See, the way Batman stories do the rise of a Rogues Gallery and how it affects the city and therefore Batman always follows a sort of a 7-step program:

Gotham City is ruled by crime, crime that takes away the Waynes (Falcone / Carl Grissom (89) / Falcone backed by the League (Nolan) / the Falcone-Hill-Wayne triumvirate (Telltale) / Gotham S1 and first-half of S2)

Crime begats Batman, who beats Crime

Crime + Batman = Weird Crime (Jack Napier becomes Joker after an encounter with Batman (89) / "we still haven't picked up Crane and those other Arkham inmates btw check out this weird card" (Nolan) / Black Mask and the international assassins + Joker's rise (Arkham) / Children of Arkham (Telltale) / the Indian Hill experiments and patients (Gotham)

Weird Crime Replaces Crime (The Long Halloween / Joker takes over the mob (89) / the mob is so impressed by the pencil trick they give Joker all the money (Nolan) / Joker literally replaces Black Mask in the process of becoming Batman's main enemy (Arkham) / Penguin assassinates Mayor Hill and the Children enter a war with Mayor Dent (Telltale) / Indian Hill breakout and Maniax cult and etc (Gotham)

Weird Crime is a Rogues Gallery now (Penguin and Catwoman and Max Shreck in the sequel (Burton) / Joker and Two-Face become separate problems, Bane + Talia + Crane + Catwoman in the sequel (Nolan) / after Origins a whole asylum full of them (Arkham) / Riddler + The Pact and John becoming Joker proper (Telltale) / Gotham S3 with Tetch and Riddler and the Legion of Horribles

The city is changed by the new paradigm

Batman responds / expands or retracts in response to this change

(4 and 5 don't necessarily always happen one before the other, mind you, frequently you do have a Weird Crime Rogues Gallery before Weird Crime replaces Crime at the head of the table)

And you can apply this to most other Batman stories that don't automatically start and stay at level 5. But where as all of these have to stretch the process across sequels and continuations, The Batman is the first Batman work that gets to do all 7 of them in one row. It gets 1 and 2 done offscreen before the opening act and shown to us how they happened throughout the movie's reveals, 3-4-5-6 comprise the Riddler's plot + the other United Underworld members roped into it, and it ends with 7. Even the Batmanless spin-offs follow the process: The Riddler: Year One covers Eddie's perspective on 1-2 as he enters stage 3 and prepares it for the movie, and The Penguin covers 4-5-6, leaving us waiting for Bruce's response back to stage 7 where The Batman ended.

And up until The Batman, the process behind the creation of a Rogues Gallery had never really been much of a process - comics that go into the transition like Long Halloween/Dark Victory just show the fall of Carmine Falcone -> the freaks waiting in the wings causing it or happening immediately after. Gotham tries to work that escalation gradually and it starts relatively "normal", but it's always dancing around the premise and the central black hole and the building blocks don't have anything to do with each other - the gang wars and Penguin have nothing to do with Bruce investigating a conspiracy, which has little to do with Gordon and Bullock investigating weird serial killers who keep escalating, and then eventually we get that Hugo Strange was building freaks in his basement at the orders of the Court/Ra's the whole time until they all just escape. You can piece together how Batman works that aren't about this transition ultimately touch on most of those 7 stages and have their own version of it as soon as they introduce Gotham City in a pre-Batman/pre-villain state, but the connections are always rather tenuous and not necessarily connected to each other (and it's fine, y'know, not everything in a story always has to come from the same source).

But everything in The Batman follows a long chain of dominos that had to happen for this system to become the way it needs to be for Batman villains to emerge. Everything started in that one night Thomas Waynes saved Carmine Falcone, everything started from that ensuing connection and Thomas' failures leading to a city ruled by mobsters for 20 years and the sheer level of rot and corruption and human misery that creates and justifies the existence of Batman, and thus The Riddler in his example. Everything we get in The Penguin is the result of this paradigm shift and total civic collapse, showing the destruction of Carmine's empire as well as his legacies torched and mutated by Sofia and Oz respectively. Everything is still connected. The United Underworld guys featured in the movie live and dwell in entirely separate spaces and represent entirely different things, and they're still all connected in the same chain of dominoes, which allows them to expand and cover entirely separate narrative real estate while still giving it all cohesion.

The movie never has to specifically establish a system full of supervillains or made for them, it has to establish a system so utterly fucked and dominated by Falcone, so utterly failed by every institution and body of government and system imaginable, that it creates Batman, and the minute Batman arrives and survives long enough to be a third power / a fifth state, people in his wake trying to respond to him or do the same things he does, as a response to the same afflictions he faced and to his example or influence, are the only logical thing. Without needing to literally show the other rogues waiting in the wings, The Batman established an entire world of possibility just by very smartly using the 4 big ones + Carmine and showing why and how this regular American city becomes a place where supervillains bombing city blocks and running for political office can become a facet of daily life. Joker, Penguin, Catwoman and Riddler - positioned as separate from each other as possible to show the ways in which this is, and maybe always has been, spreading fast out of Batman's control.

And now with The Penguin, reinforcing the chokehold of crime in the city in it's old ways as well as the corrupt mutated new ones brought on by our boy, as well as a new Batman Villain (possibly two, if Eve Karlo ever gets her hands on suspicious make-up) arriving from Penguin's side of things so that it's not just Batman who has a Rogues Gallery to deal with, not just Batman who has terrific enemies waiting in the wings for a chance to enact their own forms of justice and revenge, no, that's just what life is like in Gotham now, forever.

#replies tag #dc comics #batman #the penguin #the penguin hbo #matt reeves #lauren lefranc #the batman

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such-expensive-mistakes · 1 year ago

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Superpham AU (part 7)

Masterpost

A short one today, but I thought this section was funny (until it got sad again).

-----

It’s a quiet evening in the Lane-Kent household: Lois is trying to turn her notes into an article, Clark is going over Jon’s math homework, and Jon is watching a show Lois is only half-following. It features lots of gunfire and explosions, though Lois’s— unfortunately extensive— experience with witnessing real violence makes the version on TV look cartoonish. She suspects that is part of the show’s appeal.

Danny is paying about as much attention to the TV as Lois is, engrossed in something on his phone. At least he’s in the same room as the rest of them, instead of sequestering himself away.

“Hey Lois?” Danny suddenly asks.

Lois looks up from her work. “What’s up?”

“Did you know the internet thinks you’re Superman’s girlfriend?”

Lois knows that if she looks at Clark, he’ll be turning red, the way he always does whenever this particular subject comes up. Lois herself is barely holding back a laugh. Jon’s wrinkling his nose, looking thoroughly embarrassed by his parents.

“Well, I am,” she says, barely keeping herself composed.

“No, I mean—” Danny begins.

“You mean people say that I’m dating Superman and married to Clark?” Lois glances at Clark, who is now hiding his face in his hands. “Someone forgot to check for cameras after rescuing me a few years back, and we got caught kissing on film. It was let people think Superman is a homewrecker or let them think I’m in a polyamorous relationship with my husband and his alter ego.”

“That’s… really weird.” Danny is giving her the kind of judgmental look only teenagers can give.

Lois does laugh at that. “It is, a bit. But it helps protect Clark’s secret identity, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Clark finally says. “There were other ways to handle that situation; she just thinks this is funny.”

“Even your parents think it’s funny,” Lois says. Clark just sighs, faux-aggrieved.

“It’s not even the weirdest thing on the internet about Superman,” Danny says. “It’s just the weirdest thing everyone agrees is true.”

“Please do not tell me what else you’ve found,” Clark says.

“You can tell me,” Lois says. “We can just make Clark leave for a bit.” Reading conspiracy theories about Superman is her guilty pleasure, though if anyone asks, she does it to keep tabs on anyone who might have a viable way of hurting him.

Danny just laughs, and something in Lois’s chest seizes up. Is this the first time she’s heard him laugh since he came back? She thinks it might be.

She doesn’t want to call attention to it; like as not, that would just make him pull away again. Instead she says, “Superman doesn’t even get the best conspiracy theories. Those are all Batman.” That’s because Bruce purposefully cultivates them, of course, but that’s not important.

“Which one is he, again?” Danny asks.

It’s not that Lois ever forgets that Danny has spent most of his life in another dimension. But little offhand comments like that… they really drive it home. There are plenty of superheroes, even Justice League members, that most of the general public has never heard of— but Batman is not one of them.

She's saved from answering by Clark.

"You'll meet him eventually," Clark says. "He's a good friend of mine. And Jon and Kon are close to his two youngest sons, Robin and Red Robin."

Danny nods thoughtfully. "Right. I think Red Robin's in the group chat Kon added me to."

Lois reminds herself to thank Kon next time she sees him. He and Danny seem to have connected, and Kon seems to have made it his personal mission to keep Danny from slipping too far into one of his funks again.

"Speaking of Kon," Clark begins. "Ma and Pa want to know when we'll be able to make it to Smallville to visit."

They've been trying not to overwhelm Danny by introducing him to too many new people at once, but maybe that was the wrong choice. Maybe they should be pushing him to get out more, to connect with this dimension. Besides, Kon spends most of his time in Smallville, and they already know that he and Danny get along.

Lois re-evaluates the article she’s been working on. Perry would probably appreciate it sooner rather than later, but if she turns in a smaller article this week, she can probably swing a weekend off. If not, she can always work on it from Kansas.

“This weekend should work,” Lois says. “If that’s alright with you, Danny.”

Danny looks a little surprised to be consulted. “I— yeah, that works. Not like I have anywhere else to be.” He laughs a little, but the joke falls flat, and Lois resolves to double down on helping Danny connect with more people here in this dimension.

#superpham au #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year ago

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And with this, it all comes to an end...

Now Loading: Kinktober Season Finale

Synopsis: It was supposed to be a fun little joke, a gag you and your friends indulged at your annual Halloween Party. Of course it wasn't going to work, no way a "ritual" you found on WikiHow of all places was really going to summon an Incubus. But, if that was the case, then who was the almost angelic looking man standing in your room?

Kinks: Spectrophilia, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Mirror Sex, and Dacryphilia

You laughed at your friend's silly joke as you readjusted your witch hat and took a sip of your drink. Halloween night- the spookiest time of the year, and you were spending it with five of your closest friends. You couldn’t think of another place in the entire world you would rather be than right there on that couch, drinking suspiciously vibrant green cocktails and watching trashy B-grade horror flicks.

That was until the host's phone went off. Her excited squeal told her everything you needed to know.

“Ew, Is that Grease?” You asked, earning you an eye roll from the hostess and a giggle from the rest of the group.

“Why do you insist on calling Toji that?” She asked as she typed away a response.

“Cause he looks greasy.” You reminded her. She scoffed at you and shook her head.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you can’t get laid.” She rebuffed.

“You’ve resorted to personal attacks, this means I automatically win!” You celebrated, sticking your tongue out at her.

“Wait, you still can’t get any?” One of your other friends asked, inserting themselves into the conversation, “Why not? You’re hot.” You just shrugged at their question.

“I haven’t found anyone worth my time.” you simply stated.

“She’s picky.” The host said. As she did, you saw a spark of an idea light up her eyes, and she more aggressively typed on her phone.

“Wait, weren’t you talking to that Zenin guy?” Another friend entered the ring, “What happened to him?” He asked.

“You mean Naoya? He dropped on the third date that he didn’t believe in the female orgasm. I wasn’t going to waste any more of my time with that.” You sighed, mostly out of pity for whatever woman he did trick into his bed, and sipped your cocktail.

“What if you fucked a demon?” The host asked, looking at you with frantically excited eyes.

“Congratulations! That’s officially the fourth weirdest sex question I’ve ever been asked.” You clapped for your friend.

“Only the fourth? What have you?- Not the point,” She shook her head and showed you the article she had pulled up on her phone. The Wikihow article, to be specific. You laughed as you read the title HOW TO SUMMON AN INCUBUS BOYFRIEND.

“Well shit, it’s worth a try,” You joked as you handed back the phone.

“Are you serious?” She asked, grinning like a mad man, “Because I have the things to perform the ritual, and I can’t think of a better way to spend Halloween night than getting you some demonic dick.” She winked. You chuckled as you thought about the ridiculous nature of mixing the metaphysical with cyberspace. Eh, fuck it, what was the worst that could happen? You finished off your drink and nodded.

“Fuck it, let’s summon the devil!”

“Well, an incubus not the devil-” Your friend corrected, “But yeah!”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

The room was dark. You had just finished anointing the ceremonial candles- which definitely wasn’t just a pretentious way to say the six of you put essential oils on half used yankee candles. It was way more legit than that! You guys like…added intentions or whatever it was the article said to do. You all placed them on the reverse pentagram pattern on the ground, and you specifically lit them in a clockwise order, starting from the bottom) most point…Wait. Wait, no you definitely started from the upper right point. Oops?

Maybe you all shouldn’t have been doing this drunk. But, no one noticed! So you continued to spend more energy giving the bit far more commitment than it ever warranted. You moved to the hostess. “The scene is set Sister,” you fought giggles, “How shall we proceed?”

“Thank you my companion of darkness. I shall consult the sacred tomes.” She said pulling out her phone with a flourish and pulling back up the- and I can not stress this enough- WikiHow article, on how to summon a Sex. Demon. What a wild Halloween.

“It says we all need to do now is put the sacrifice in the center of the inverted star.” Your friend said. The room fell quiet for a second. As jokey as this had all been up until this point, the use of the word “sacrifice” had shifted the air to something much colder. More serious. You felt about a thousand sets of eyes on you, but you knew in reality it was only five sets. Five sets of burning, nervous eyes.

“Ugh, okay fine!” You groaned, dramatically throwing your head back to break the tension, “I’ll go get in the star!” You said with a playful smirk as you positioned yourself in the center of the pentagram. “Besides, who doesn’t want a Sexy demon boyfriend? I’ll gladly get sacrificed for that.” You joked.

“Excellent!” The hostess said with an excited clap of her hands. You watched as your friends went to their places, one for each point of the star. “Okay, I’m gonna send you guys the like, script I guess? So you guys know what we have to say.” She said as she sent the text to the group chat. You watched as everyone checked their phones.

“Is that…Latin?” one of your friends questioned.

“I think?” The hostess asked more than said.

“What does it mean?” A different friend inquired.

“I don’t know, demons come fuck me? How should I know what it means?” The hostess snapped.

“Shit- sorry I asked.” Your friend mumbled, and you felt kinda bad for them.

“Can we get on with this? I’m getting tired.” You said. It wasn’t a lie. You had felt your energy slowly sleep out of you from the moment your friends took their spots on the star, and a nap was really starting to sound phenomenal about now.

“Right, sorry babes.” The hostess said sympathetically, reaching out her arms. All of the friends complied, reaching out with their entire wingspans but still only managing to touch fingertips. It was enough though, the pentagram was transformed into a pentacle, and suddenly, you felt woozy.

“Gojo est optimus,” The all chanted in unison, low and serious. “Gojo tam terribilis est, vis eum tecum dormire.” Your ears started ringing, loud and hateful. “Colendum est Satoru Gojo!” As the last syllables fell from their lips, the flames of the used overpriced candles erupted into a brilliant indigo inferno with a molting cerulean core. The wall of fire surrounded you and warmed your body to the point of overheating. You stumbled to keep your balance. The air suddenly felt like thick oil, and your head felt like it was filled with cotton.

As quickly as the flames exploded, they vanished, leaving you to hyperventilate in the darkness while your friends all tried to process what just happened. Suddenly, a laugh split through the air and your skull.

“That's crazy!” one of your friends laughed, “I didn’t know essential oils reacted to fire like that!” He said. Slowly, the rest of you all joined him in his laugh, small nervous giggles finding the will to become genuine. Yeah, that made sense. The oils must have had..something in them to make them do that. Yeah.

You tried to ignore the feeling of someone grabbing your ass.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

You didn’t stay at the party much longer after that. You told all of your friends you were tired, which, was true. You didn’t tell them that you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched though. Or that every once in a while you felt like you were being touched. A thumb rubbing your thigh, or a kiss ghosted over your neck. You kept that part to yourself.

You knew you were probably just over thinking the whole ritual thing. The human brain was a powerful lump of electricity, and the placebo effect was undeniable. You probably just tricked yourself into feeling these things cause you fake summoned a fake demon. Yeah, that made sense.

As you walked into your apartment door, you felt it again. A firm hand grabbing the fat of your ass. In the safety of your own home, you gave into your initial reaction of swatting the invisible pervert away. “Quit it.” You growled at the wind.

You could have sworn you heard someone respond. “Tch.”

No, no you didn't hear that. You can’t be feeling phantom touches and be hearing things, you had to pick a lane for your crazy. You rolled your eyes at how silly you were being as you dragged yourself into the bathroom. All you wanted was a shower and to get to bed. Tonight had been surprisingly taxing. As you undressed, you couldn’t stop feeling overly self conscious of your body. As if a pair of eyes were burning into your very soul, seeing you both inside and out and leaving you with no secrets left. Like someone was looking inside your heart to see your desires, your hopes and dreams. You hurried into the tub.

The warm shower cascaded over your cold body, making your skin erupt in goosebumps. You sighed as the cleansing waters washed away your sins from the night, and finally put your mind at ease. For all of about two seconds. Then your imagination started to wander. What chemical was in those essential oils to make them turn such a deep blue? Was such a color even possible for fire? It was so dark. You closed your eyes as you followed your train of thought. What did all that Latin mean? And how did your friends, who had never spoken the language a day in their life mind you, nail the pronunciation and reading of it on the first try? Without so much as a practice read or example no less.

"You think so much. It's kinda cute." That voice was definitely in your mind- but it wasn't your own. Your eyes suddenly shot open as you jerked your head around the bathroom, trying to see who could have said that- despite knowing you would find no one. Steam was all that greeted you. Jesus fuck, what was in those drinks to be making you feel this way? You quickly finished your shower and got out.

You felt it again before you could grab your towel. Two hands, playing with your chest. You almost screamed, frustration mounting in yourself. Then you caught a glimpse of the mirror. Temporarily, you didn’t feel the hands on you anymore. You didn’t feel anything as your brain tried to process the impossibility of what it was seeing. And then you felt everything.

Visible through the slight fog in the mirror, and only the mirror, were two hands- large and pale, long nails (claws?) tipped in pink and black- groping your breasts. You watched in awe and horror as the two hands kneaded the flesh of your chest, rolling their (it's?) thumbs over your hardening nipples. You watched as one of the disembodied appendages left your breast and moved lower. Moved to touch you in a place you hadn't been touched yet tonight. The hand vanished from the view of the glass, and seconds later you felt a spark of pleasure as (what you assumed to be) a finger flicked your clit.

Suddenly, your brain worked again, and you screamed as you tumbled away from the mirror, nearly tumbling over and back into the bathtub in your panic. You caught yourself just in time though, breathing heavy as you leaned against the wall of your shower. You heard that fucking voice again, this time it had the audacity to laugh.

"Such a tease." It mused. You needed to get out of here. You screamed as you ran out of the bathroom, and down the short hall to your bedroom. You crashed into the room, unsure why you ran here other than the fact that you always felt safe in this space. You tried to calm yourself but found it impossible. You went to sit on your bed, but- you stopped in your tracks as you caught a glimpse of the full length mirror facing your mattress. You blinked as you stared at it, your confusion being replaced only by more bodily feelings as you watched the impossible scene unfold in the glass.

You watched as a figure pushed his hips into yours, fucking you into your mattress. Your fucked out face contorting in pleasure as you moaned out helplessly, eyes glazing over in a daze. The figure wrapped his large hand around your throat, and you couldn’t help but notice the way the pink and black claws dug into your skin.

And you felt all of it. You could feel the shadow on top of you, feel its hand tighten around your throat. And you felt him in between your legs, heavy and thick, dragging out of your heat at an agonizing pace. You felt every deliberate thrust into the sweet spot that laid inside you, making you feel delirious with pleasure. Mirror you moaned a name you didn’t quite catch and clawed the shadows biceps. You felt his skin under your nails as another wave of arousal overtook you.

Your knees felt weak with desire and you found it suddenly hard to stand. You made eye contact with yourself in the glass, and stumbled backwards as your knees suddenly gave out. You didn’t hit the ground, though, a part of you wished you did. Instead, you landed against a wall of muscle. Strong arms encircled you, and you felt a low chuckle reverberate from the chest you were braced against.

“You’re clumsy, aren’t you Honey?” Yep, that was definitely the voice you heard in the bathroom. You scrambled away from the arms in a sudden burst of energy, and spun around to finally get a good look at the entity that had been haunting you all night.

He was tall, 7 feet at least, with ghost white hair and glowing- unnaturally vibrant- sapphire eyes. He was a pale man, clad in leather pants and corset adorned with pink chains. Giant bat wings framed him, and two black devil tails- tipped with sharp pink hearts- flicked excitedly behind him. He flashed a smirk, showing off the long fangs he hid behind perfectly pink lips.

“Like what you feel, Sweetheart?” He asked, musical voice dripping with smug condescension.

“Who are you?” You asked as you tried to steady your heart. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Shouldn’t you know? You called out to me.” He reminded you gently. Oh fuck.

“You’re the fucking WikiHow demon?!” You scoffed with a humorless laugh, “Are you fucking kidding me?! What self respecting demon puts their summoning ritual on fucking WikiHow?!?!” You lashed out in frustration, to hide from the fear. You didn’t sell your soul to this…being, did you? He chuckled at your sudden outburst, as if he was watching a cat try and escape a laundry basket it trapped itself in.

“What self respecting human performs a ritual found on WikiHow?” He threw that right back at you.

“That can’t be working out well for you.” it wasn’t quite what you meant to say. Your body felt like it was on fire with desire right now, and more than anything you wanted to rip him out of those leather pants. You’d be forgiven for not being the most articulate person right now. You got your point across, that’s what mattered.

“Why can’t it be?” He asked with a tilt of his head, “It’s worked out great for me so far. I get hundreds of thousands of curious summoners, and I get to respond to the ones I find interesting. Honestly, I think it was pretty genius.” He grinned. It was true. He ate way more now than he ever did when his summoning rituals were locked behind ancient, dusty tomes, long since forgotten to time. You huffed at him and shook your head.

“I still don’t know your name.” Why did that matter to you so much? Maybe it was because you wanted to know the name of the demon that had damned you. Maybe you wanted to know what name you’d be screaming later. Who knows. He smiled wide and with a flourish bowed before you, wings spreading out behind him and tails swirling in front of him.

“Satoru Gojo,” He said, “At your service.” With that, he straightened back up.

“Satoru Gojo, huh?” You scoffed, Trying to focus on your rage to distract yourself from the pleasure pooling inside of you. “So you’re the pervert that’s been groping me all night?”

“Strong way to put it, but yes.” He shrugged, nonchalant grin never leaving his face, “Who could blame me? Have you seen yourself? I couldn’t keep my hands off you even if I wanted to.” you ignored him.

“You’re a fucking creep!” You accused, “I didn’t consent to-”

“Oh you didn’t?” He cut you off with a scoff. “Oh, my mistake. See, I was under the impression that you had willingly entered the star to be sacrificed into my power, and willingly- if not even enthusiastically- participated in the ritual to bind yourself to me.”

Oh yeah. You did do that, huh? Your face said everything, and his smirk (somehow) got even more smug. “That’s what I thought. You see Sweets, in my world, you’ve already consented to everything I have planned for you.” He walked past you to sit on your bed, and you turned to not take your eyes off him.

“All of this,” he gestured widely with his hands, “Is really just in respect to your human culture. That, and everything tastes better when it’s given willingly.” he laughed.

"And what if I don't give it willingly?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"You will." He said that so matter-of-factly that it made your stomach burn. He said it as if he was telling you the time or reading off instructions. As if it was just an objective, unavoidable, fact.

"And what makes you so sure of that Lover Boy?" You scoffed, trying to hide the fact you were unnerved.

"Because I can smell your arousal from here,” He smiled, flashing those dangerous fangs again, “and you’ve been rubbing your delicious thighs together this entire conversation, and you refuse to look me in the eye cause you know the moment you do, all of this” he gestured at you with a single hand, “edgy mean girl attitude will vanish.” he said as he crossed his legs and held his knee with both hands. “You want me. You want me so bad, you’re struggling to think of anything else. It’s only a matter of time until you give into that carnal desire.”

You hated how accurately he read you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to guard your body from his invasive gaze. You hated the fact that you could feel your hips buck against his illusions. And that as good as they felt, they just weren’t enough. Your cunt was clenching around nothing and your skin burned for his touch. You could feel your resolve dissolving, fear giving way to lust.

“Will it hurt?”

“Not unless you want it to.”

“I’m not talking about sex dipshit,” You groaned, “I’m talking about losing up my soul.” For the first time this entire encounter, he looked confused.

“I-I’m sorry, what?” He asked.

“My soul,” You said, feeling his confusion rub off on you, “You’re an incubus, right? Isn’t that like…your thing?”

“No?” His confusion slowly transformed into chuckling as it finally dawned on him what the hold up was. “Oh sugar, is that why you’re fighting this so hard? You think I want your soul? Baby, you gotta stop watching so many movies. Mortal souls are absolutely worthless. Mortal pleasure on the other hand, now. That’s where the money lies.” You weren’t sure if that thought should have comforted you- or scared you more.

But before you could get too lost in your head, he uncrossed his legs and leaned back on the bed. His tight pants left next to nothing to the imagination, and you bit your lower lip so hard you were sure it bled.

"Come here Sweets." He said, opening his arms out to you. Your body acted on its own accord, walking over to him without any say from you. Before you knew it, you were straddling his lap. He placed his hands on your side, rubbing your hips and smiling at the way they bucked against him. "Look at you. Frustrated to tears and fighting, what, six months of tension? Don't do that to yourself Sugar. I can help you. You just have to let me."

You looked down. Some primal part of your brain knew this was a bad idea. This man(?) Was a predator who made no attempt to hide that fact about himself. You knew you should run.

And yet that same primal part of your brain wanted him all the more for that exact reason. "Let me take care of you." Gojo requested, running his hand up your bare back to tangle his fingers in the hair at the base of your neck. You felt yourself break.

"Okay…" you finally said, "Help me." He didn't need to be told twice. In a blink his lips were on yours, the taste of cherry and peaches invading your senses. His tongue slid past your teeth to tangle with yours, and for the first time you got a sense of just how long the muscle really was. The hand tangled in your hair gave a sharp tug, making you moan against his mouth. You could feel the already impressive tent in his pants get bigger.

Nervousness mixed with excitement as he flipped you over, pressing your back into your soft mattress. His head moved to kiss dark bruises into your neck, making sure to let his fangs nip the thin skin there. A reminder of what you were dealing with. He kissed down your body, finally landing at the place you needed him the most. He threw your leg over his shoulder, and pressed his face against your sticky cunt.

You let out a truly embarrassing moan as you were finally graced with the relief your body had been begging for. You whined as you felt him pressed his unnaturally long tongue into your weeping cunt, reaching places you didn’t know possible and stretching you in a deliciously devious way. He licked at your g-spot, sending shock waves of pleasure straight to your core and throughout the rest of your body.

His expert fingers worked at your clit as he lapped as your cunt. Your body reacted to him in ways it had never reacted before, overly sensitive and needy. Your hands reached down to tangle into his moon-pale hair, pulling on the soft tresses found there. Pulling him even closer and deeper into you. His long, thick tongue pushed in and out of your weeping cunt, and if you felt this fucked out from just his tongue, you were almost scared to think about what his cock would feel like. You saw his wings flutter in delight as you pulled at his hair again, and the coil inside of you got tighter.

Pleasure pulsed through your body, reaching every part of you and making your back arch off of the bed. You could feel your body buzzing with anticipation as your climax approached at breakneck speeds. You had felt nothing like this before, nothing had made you feel so euphoric. No boyfriend had ever even come close, and no toy could ever compare. Your head was exploding with heavy desire as your climax overtook you, shattering your world and wrecking your body with tremors.

You watched as he rose up from your legs, his heavy lidded eyes clouded with lust, a satisfied, lopsided grin on his face. "You taste even sweeter than I imagined." He complimented.

"Thanks, I eat a lot of pineapple." You muttered, still coming down from your earth shattering high, still trying to regain your bearings. He chuckled softly, leaning over you. Your face turned red as you realized your slick was still glistening in his lips and chin in the moonlight.

"I can tell." He winked, "Can you?" Before you could properly process his words, his hands were on the side of your face and pulling you into another heated kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips, and felt his nails press red crescents into the side of your head. He was right, there was a sweetness there, and you felt a sense of pride swell inside you as you realized that.

Your hands found the back of his head, tangling into his hair and pulling him even further into the kiss. Your recuperation made him feral, and his hands went from the side of your face to your hips, grabbing you in a bruising grip and pulling your body closer to him. His touch set a fire inside of you, making your heart work over time as your hands clumsily tried to pull him closer. You found the joint connecting his wings to his back and grabbed into them for dear life, sending a shudder through his entire body. He looked at you with dark, blown out eyes.

“I’m going to fucking devour you.” He growled lowly at you. It sent a lighting bolt straight to your cunt. He pulled away, revealing that the leather corset and pants were finally gone. You felt your throat dry as you took in the sight of him. His body seemed to glow softly in the moonlight, lean and beautiful, his wings behind his frame making him look particularly ethereal. Your eyes trailed down and you choked back a moan.

You would never say this out loud, or about any mortal man for that matter, but…that mother fucker had a pretty cock. Long, with prominent veins and a baby pink tip. It stood proud against his stomach, already dripping with need, and all for you.

“You look like an angel…” You whispered without even thinking. He chuckled, showing off his fangs to remind you that looks could be deceiving.

“Is that what you want me to be?” He asked with a hum, grabbing your beautiful hips and positioning them against his, “I can be that for you. I can have you screaming out for god.” He shoved himself into you in one unforgiving go, sending a shock through your body as you moaned expletives, trying to adjust to the sudden intruder. “I can’t promise he’ll hear you though.” Gojo chuckled, “You’d be better off screaming for me.”

You moaned his name softly as you gripped onto his biceps, a scene that felt very familiar to you for some reason. He dragged himself out before pushing back in, perfectly gracing you G-spot with expert precision. He moaned as he did, trying to keep from losing control and fucking you like an animal. Your cunt was warm, and so welcoming. Pulling him in deeper and begging him for more. And who was he to deny you what you so desperately and clearly needed?

You felt his tails wrap around your knees and spread you wider for him, giving him more room to work. He adjusted your position under him, letting him get deeper inside of you than any man had ever been before. He filled you to the brim, overflowing your senses with euphoria as he made sure you felt every inch of him pounding into you.

“Fuck, ‘Toru!” You moaned as he overtook you. Every thrust sent a new wave of electrical fire through your body, leaving you completely at his mercy as your second high approached. The scene was sinful, even for Satoru. The soft nickname made his heart ache (which, weird not gonna unpack that) and the scene before him made his dick swell.

Your hair was messy from all of the pulling, and your eyes were fucked out and foggy. Your kiss swollen lips were red and parted, panting his name so beautifully. Your chest bounced with every push of his hips, and you took him so perfectly, it was like you were made to be his cock-sleeve. It was a scene he didn’t want to share with anybody else.

He leaned down closer to you, using his wings to shield your sin from the rest of the world. For the first time in his existence, he felt possessive. He didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, so pretty and needy. It was a sight only for him. The close intimacy overwhelmed you as his hand came to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to break you.

Your second climax of the night hit you like a hurricane, a wall of ecstasy crashing into you and sweeping you up in the whirlwind of mind numbing pleasure. You felt like you were on top of the world as it coursed through you in pulsating waves, his refusal to slow down for even a second putting even more power behind them.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt his tongue lick up your cheek, collecting the salty tears. “Look at my little cry baby,” He teased, “tearing up while falling apart around my cock. Do you even know what you’re fucking doing to me?” He growled as he dug his fangs into your neck hard enough to draw blood.

You let out a broken sob as his teeth dug into your skin, the pain mixing with the pleasure and making you clench around him. Your hands found where his wings attached to his back again, and grabbed onto them for dear life as you tried to ride out your intense high. The feeling of your nails in his wings sent him over the edge. He moaned your name pathetically as his tip kissed your cervix and he came deep inside of you. You felt the warmth of his climax mellow out and flow through you as he rode you through both of your highs, only stopping when both of your bodies forced you too.

He was breathing hard when he finally pulled out, collapsing on your bed next to you. He took a second to catch his breath, before pulling you into his arms and wrapping his wings around the both of you- not bothering with a blanket. You felt warm and safe inside of his wings, as if none of your problems or the evils of the real world could get to you as long as you were here.

“So…” You finally asked, breaking the silence, “What happens now?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, gingerly licking away the blood that trickled down your neck.

“Do I die? Do you leave? What comes next?” You asked, confused as to how to further explain. Your confusion turned into frustration as he laughed.

“Do I leave?” He chuckled, “Honey, did you not read the article? You summoned an incubus boyfriend. Good luck getting rid of me.”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ Taglist ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

thank you lovlies, for supporting my work! @sk8ttles, @blkkizzat,@littyasatittyyy,@ketchupsush1@my-names-angel-but-im-not-one, @ryomens-vixen, @yihona-san06 , @risuola, @bontensbabygirl, @spiderlilytengu and @aureliaviolet3

Thank you so much for all the support lovelies, and for continuing to read my work! You've all been wonderful, and I hope you all have a spooktacular Halloween!

and if you wanna read all of the Kinktober fics, you can find them all: Right Here!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #incubus gojo #incubus! Gojo x reader #monsterfucking #Trick-or-Kink 23 #satoru gojo x reader

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gojoswhitebabydolllashes · 5 months ago

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CHARLES XAVIER IS HOT? -WADE

Logan howlett x reader

DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS!!! AND DAYS OF FUTURE PAST BUT I CAN ONLY HOPE EVERYONE HAS SEEN THAT.

Warnings: erm idk. Kinda a short one. All will make sense soon. God help me. Major Canon divergence

When i first joined the x-mansion as a student, Charles Xavier was old. Though I had heard from plenty of people who knew him as a young adult that he was rather good looking.

I refused to think of my old and wrinkly professor in that way. Mostly because he'd see it and be absolutely horrified I assume.

"Logan, I don't think there's anyone here," I stated as he approached the mansion.

Covered in vines and surrounded by rotting timber and splintering trees, the x mansion had Definitely seen better days.

"It's not looking likely that's For sure" he replied.

"Do you guys think Happy Wheels will be here? God I wanna see that old fucker"

Wade was trying to be funny, but Logan and I just glared at him and kept walking. The door to the mansion was rotting and chipping away.

"I think we're in the past" I said, guessing mostly.

Logan pushed open the door gently, and inside stood one man. He was raggedy and bearded.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked the stranger.

"My name is Charles Xavier," he stated, "the real question is who are you? All of you"

"Ho-ly fuck! Charles Xavier is hot?" Wade Gasped loudly with his hands to his mouth

"Was" Logan corrected

"I don't knooooow. I'd let old rolly hit it too"

Me and logan both made disgusted noises.

🧠

When Xavier first learnt, I could also use telepathy. It was when I tried to kill Jean. He stopped me and told me to find him in the office.

He tried to help me control it and tried to help me let it get under control so that I wouldn't go insane. But I did. I went crazy, and I would scream and cry and yell and rattle the walls.

And then, one day, without any warning.

It stopped.

I never rattled another wall again

"So, you're all from the future?" Charles furrowed his eyebrows.

"More or less, yeah, we're not supposed to be here" Logan spoke.

Well, we have been here before technically. We're just a bit out of time. I scratched my neck awkwardly.

"We didn't necessarily come here to find you. We just have to get back home" I said to charles

Wade's mouth was still agape. "Jesus, you are gorgeous, aren't you?" He was close and personal with Charles, he might as well have been inside his skin.

"Jesus man, have you ever heard of personal space or decency?" Charles scoffed and stood up, walking away from wades perverse self.

"And turn those fucking thoughts off" Charles groaned and pointed to Wade.

"Listen. I know how crazy we are from the future sounds. But to make things worse, you're also a professor in the future, and you teach" I pointed to me and Logan "us"

"I can't help you guys, i don't know what to do" Charles shrugged.

Why do you stick by him?

You love him, don't you?

🧠

By far, my weirdest interaction in the TVA was when i met a variant of Xavier, and he seemed to know me quite well. He could name my favourite colour, food, even my favourite candle and my favourite animal.

Upon closer inspection, i saw a ring on his finger. Sparkling gold with a small blue gem. I didn't bother to ask what the blue meant, I only knew that my ring on my finger was the same.

It became clear then that this was a Xavier variant I may have married in a way distant universe.

I called for the immediate expulsion of the variant instantly after.

Don't let him go

Do it I dare you

You love him

He's not yours

You can't do this

Don't do this

Don't do it

It's not right

"Charles?" I said.

It was nighttime. We were forced to take shelter in the mansion as we knew we had nowhere else to go.

"Yes?" The bearded man turned to me

"Can you do me a favor?"

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #xmen #marvel #xmen x reader

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madamesinsalot · 2 years ago

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What if...

Moon completely accepts the insanity, the sadistic nature, and bloodthirstiness of the retched virus? He relishes in maniacally guarding their home while maiming every unwanted guest that enters the forbidden areas he and Sun’s claimed over time, that much is true. If that was the case though... how did he end up like this?

Ayooo! i finally FINALLY made part 2 of this snippet! I’m tempted to continue the story I’ve kept planning so far should you guys want it! :D please enjoy!

Here’s Sun’s Version, the beginning!

----------

When you first met Moon after forgetting your belongings one unnerving evening. You expected a lot of mishaps to arise like Chica’s munching escapades, or STAFF bots entering the weirdest areas of the plex. What you’ve never expected was the Lunar animatronic hunched over numerous wrecked robot parts, spasming heavily over the gruesome scene while clutching his wire-exposed spasming arm. From the cryptic warnings your uncle has reminded you of, the jester had every opportunity to throw you out for intruding the facility afterhours, especially when you were caught looking. Yet, instead of enacting the heinous deeds that were described to you... the glitching bot merely guided you out the front doors with only a calm wave, items returned, and that unreadable default smile.

You knew then and there that you had to know more about this msyterious character.

You remember the earful you had gotten from your Uncle the day after. It was brutal. Though you were a tad guilty and apologetic to the old man, your curiosity was far greater just from the reminder of that evening. In fact, it was the sole reason why you started visiting the daycare more frequently ever since. At first, the Moon-like automation was courteous, but wary. Sun moreso. Then that apprehension quickly melted away once they realized you’ve never bared any ill-will since speaking to them. Moon was especially forthcoming towards creating a bond at that point for some unexplained reason. And while you had theories, it didn’t bother you more than the worried glances your Uncle would give you at the mention of the attendant.

Goodness did he want to tell you everything. The unsolved murders both robotic and human, the faulty machinery they’d manipulate to spend more time with you, even the intentional spastic sparks that would shoot out of Moon all the time as a failsafe to talk to you. But the biggest and most troublesome aspect that your stoic Uncle would battle with was the lunar bot’s skilled evasions to getting caught and or decommissioned by the man himself.

Every piece of security footage, any type of recording depicting the attendant in anyway, or written notes your relative would make and stash away would usually end up getting destroyed; sometimes marked off as false information by the higher ups. All of that was Moon’s doing. Sun is the more dangerous, violent, and volatile of the caretaker AI while his counterpart prepared alibis and well-timed distractions, making the sunny jester open to whatever plan he’d receive in their coding to appear inviting and innocent to the public according to Moon’s plan. They made an efficiently menacing team, much to your Uncle’s chagrin.

It quickly became clear that things would be increasingly difficult since your arrival at the Pizza Plex. The wily night-themed animatronic had definitely caught on to your familial relation to the Janitor, taking any advantage to heighten your Uncle’s personal hell. This was especially true when you ended up being romantically pursued by the celestial duo themselves. Improvised dances, mutual petnames and long-lasting hugs were part of his own personal torture, and your own unaware bliss.

The moment... the absolute moment that your Uncle discovered he had truly lost you to the Daycare Attendant, was a seemingly normal night when he finished cleaning the last of the security rooms. He always made sure to find you before completely leaving the premises so as to carpool back to your respective homes, totally not to drag you away from the murder crazy jester. Not at all. Doing so also meant going to the daycare much to his exhaustion. It wasn’t a secret among the rest of the employees that you spend all of your free time there. That night though, things were different. The daycare was dark when the perimeter was brightly lit up. Wandering in, your Uncle fished out his flashlight, taking cautious step after cautious step through the cushioning and calling your name with absolute caution and vigilance. He would even flash his light in every direction when he came across the security desk, with every monitor and screen having been deactivated. An obvious omen. Ducking underneath the bridge led him the display forever seared into his mind. You were peacefully sleeping among pillows and a glowing star-clad lap. Surrounding you... or rather towering over you, was the ominous Moon animatronic. he jerkingly etched huge tears into the fabric of the foam padding. Whether it was due to the glitch, or the flashlight in your Uncle’s hand, the man wasn’t so sure. The sparks flying out of the bot flew out of different parts of the animatronic... it was probably the main reason you ultimately came to the daycare this late at night. Moon’s face though... was less than inviting when he glanced into those hostile eyes.

Seeing that made your Uncle reluctantly stay away within a nearby security room and watch over you through the security cameras for the rest of that night until you woke up hours later. The crazed machine was not helping matters when glaring at the every mounted camera in the Daycare’s vicinity. It wasn’t because he was scared of the lunar nightguard. Not really. No, the real reason he did it was because of the jester’s resolve... it was possessive. Dangerously so. If he hadn’t had years of dealing with their heinous acts to the point of gathering a psychological profile for each alter, he would’ve thought Moon was... protecting you. But that’s impossible! It can’t be true.

Can it?

Safe to say... That question was enough incentive to help your Uncle to stay awake that night... and every evening after that.

----------

AAAHHHHHHH! I missed you guys SO MUCH! Many things were happening in my hectic life that I had to go away for... yeesh, over a month??? Now that the stress has died down, I’m more than ready to get back into creating that sweet Sun and Moon content again. I’ll start with this and finishing up that Sun’s confession comic. I’ll see you guys until then! Love y’all!

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anotherstudtouse · 5 months ago

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Holiday Reunion

Summary: Your step-sister, Angela, doesn’t like the girl you brought over for the holidays.

Warnings: SMUT, sex between step-siblings, jealousy, sex with a fake cum-filled strap-on, cheating (well not really) (things aren’t exclusive with the girlfriend), breeding kink, choking, long story short it’s filthy and I’m fairly new to posting my writings so I’m not entirely sure what all needs a warning and what doesn’t yet

Being Angela’s step-sister is a relatively new situation, one the two of you are still having trouble accepting six months into it. It’s not that you dislike each other — Well, she might dislike you, but you certainly don’t dislike her.

In fact, you like her a little too much.

How could you not, though, right? Effortlessly funny, quick-witted, and gorgeous, Angela is a joy just to be around. The first few weeks you’d known her — the weeks leading up to the wedding between her father and your mother — had been more than enough have you infatuated with her, and for a while you two got along amazingly. Sometimes, in your rare moments alone together, it almost felt as though Angela felt the same way you did.

The night of the wedding, however, changed everything, and unfortunately you were too drunk that night to remember what happened. You’ve tried to apologize more than once, and even though Angela’s always told you that you have nothing to be sorry for, it still feels so tense every time you’re in a room together. Six months in, you’ve decided to just count yourself lucky you’re adults and don’t have to live with each other, or else things might’ve gotten far too awkward.

Like tonight. Tonight, you’re at your mom’s house — Well, you suppose it’s Angela’s dad’s house, too. It’s the few days between Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve and both your mother and Angela’s father have separately convinced the two of you to stay from Christmas Eve until January 2nd. You’d figured this would be the perfect opportunity to introduce your girlfriend of two months to your mom as well as have someone around to distract you from the tension between Angela and yourself. Even though things aren’t serious between you two and you weren’t even exclusive yet, she’d agreed. It had been, in your head, a wonderful idea!

But now you’re here, sitting on the living room sofa, playing some ‘get to know you’ game that Angela’s father had proposed where you pull a card with a question about yourself and people in the room try to answer it for you, and Angela, who’s already been not only friendly but also somewhat touchy (a lingering hug as she greeted you at the beginning of the night, two hands brushing against your shoulders and arms as she stepped into your space and slipped your jacket off, a hand on your forearm as she laughed at a stupid joke you told – not that you’re keeping track or anything) toward you tonight, has answered every question about yourself correctly. She knows your favorite color, your deepest fear, your dreams for the future, the weirdest dream you’ve ever had — Things you’d casually mentioned in the past that you never would’ve expected her to actually have been paying attention to.

Even worse, she corrects Theresa, your girlfriend, when the poor girl gets anything about you wrong. You don’t hold it against Theresa at all — you’ve only been dating for two months, after all — but it feels like Angela does. You’ve never seen your step-sister like this — smug, competitive — and she’s never made so much eye contact with you before, usually looking at anything other than you.

Oh, god. It’s your turn again.

Leaning forward, you draw a card from the deck with your free hand, your other hand grasping Theresa’s in reassurance. You can tell she feels bad that she doesn’t know you as well as Angela obviously thinks she should.

“Do I ever want to have children?” You read off the card.

Theresa perks up, and you glance anxiously at Angela before your eyes finally land on your girlfriend beside you. “Oh, we’ve talked about this one! No, you don’t.”

“She’s right,” your mom agrees, sending Theresa an encouraging smile. “I came to terms with having no grandchildren a long time ago.” Angela’s father gives a little chuckle at that, and you roll your eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, you do,” Angela interjects, eyes on you. Her eyes have been on you all night. “You told me you do. At your mom’s and my dad’s wedding.”

You freeze, blinking, the tips of your ears beginning to feel especially warm. You don’t remember that. You must’ve told her that while you were drunk. You don’t tell anyone that; it’s not a serious goal of yours, more of a… well, more of a kink. You want to be bred. It’s not exactly something you tell everyone, or even a girlfriend of only two months. You told Angela that?

You can see in her eyes that that’s exactly what she means, too. It’s as if time has stopped for a moment, Angela’s words hanging in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore. She doesn’t look disgusted with the information, but that must be why things changed so drastically after that night. What the hell happened?

A laugh that you hope doesn’t sound as nervous as you feel escapes you, and you shrug. “I mean, I thought maybe I could change my mind for the right person, but honestly, probably not.” You shoot a playful glance toward your mom. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

As everyone chuckles and moves on, you exhale a relieved sigh, sending a reassuring smile Theresa’s way. Weirdness averted.

You can’t get rid of the feeling deep in your gut, though, that Angela knows. She knows how you feel about her, feelings you’ve been trying to push down for months only for them to resurface all at once as your eyes meet hers again. She takes a sip of her drink, throat bobbing as she swallows, and she never breaks eye contact once.

“Uh, it’s, um— It’s getting kind of late, and we woke up early this morning, so Theresa and I are gonna head to bed if that’s okay.” You’re already standing when your mom and Angela’s dad excuse you, and though Theresa furrow her brows at you, she doesn’t say anything about the sudden stutter.

As you begin to lead your girlfriend toward the stairs, you hear Angela speak up again behind you. “Sweet dreams, Y/N.” Something about the way she says it makes your throat go dry.

——

The digital alarm clock beside the bed in this guest room reads 1:44am. You blink slowly, eyelids still heavy from sleep. You’ve already kicked the blanket off yourself, leaving it pooled mostly on top of Theresa. It’s too hot in here. You’d be lying if you said that’s the reason you’re having so much trouble sleeping, though; the heat is a symptom of something that’s not going to be cured as long as you stay in this bed.

Quietly, you slip out of bed. You contemplate for a moment putting on some pants but the walk down the hallway to the bathroom isn’t very far and everyone’s asleep — Your tank top and underwear will do. Keeping your eyes on your girlfriend in an effort to make sure she doesn’t stir, you exit the room as silently as possible and make your way to the unoccupied bathroom.

In your hurry to get inside, you close the door a little too loudly. You only spare a second to cringe inwardly before you’re leaning back against the sink, recalling every interaction you’ve had with your step-sister tonight. The looks, the touches, the words – They’re seared into your brain. Maybe you’re reading too much into things but it’s driving you crazy and you need relief now. One hand gripping the sink, your other hand descends from your abdomen to the waistband of your underwear.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You’ve moved on – You have a girlfriend in bed just down the hall, and here you are, about to touch yourself to thoughts of your step-sister. You should go back to bed. You need to go back to bed.

That’s the last thought you have before your fingers dip underneath your waistband to slip between already slick folds. The feeling has you biting your lip in an effort to keep yourself from moaning, and your eyes flutter shut to replace images of this bathroom with prettier images of Angela on her knees. Your breathing is getting heavier now, fingers rubbing tight circles around your swollen clit, and god it’s good, it’s so good, it’s—

The sound of the door that you’d stupidly forgotten to lock creaking open has your eyes snapping open in shock and embarrassment, and as you make eye contact for what feels like the thousandth time tonight with Angela, you freeze. She’s in a pair of obscenely short pajama shorts and a t-shirt and seems just as surprised to see you. You can see the realization slowly dawning on her as her gaze travels lower and lower, finally stopping on the hand still between your thighs.

Fuck.

Mortified, you begin to pull your hand out of your underwear when Angela’s shoots out to grasp your wrist, effectively halting your movements. Her eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, and your heart is pounding in your chest.

“Is this for her?” Her voice comes out hushed. It would’ve been difficult to hear her if she hadn’t just stepped into your personal space. You part your lips to try to lie but she doesn’t give you time to. “It isn’t, is it? If it were, you’d still be in your room.”

Her grip on your wrist is tight, and the way she’s speaking to and looking at you tells you she already has you figured out; she’s just waiting for you to say it. You lick your lips, eyes darting down to Angela’s then back to her eyes – those dark, beautiful, intense eyes.

“… No,” you finally respond. As you speak, Angela releases her hold on your wrist only to slip her hand underneath your waistband, covering your hand with her own and causing you to suck in a shaky breath.

She steps closer, eyes flitting between yours as if searching for something in them. “Who’s it for, then?” Her fingers press into yours, forcing more pressure against your throbbing clit. You suppress a whine; Angela’s eyes light up at the muffled sound.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You need to go back to your room and forget any of this ever happened. You shouldn’t be doing this. She’s your step-sister.

Fuck it.

“You.” Your voice is raw with need. You need Angela, and you’re certain that even if she can’t hear it in your voice, she can see it in your eyes, she can feel it in the way your hips push slightly into your joined hands. You barely get that single syllable out before she’s crashing her lips into yours, her free hand snaking up to tangle in your hair while her hand in your pants tugs your hand out and sets it on the edge of the sink.

You kiss her back with just as much urgency. Her hand tugs the bottom of your tank top up over your breasts before groping one until your nipple is hardening underneath her palm. You gasp at the feeling, and Angela takes that opportunity to slip her tongue past your parted lips. As your back arches into her hand, she breaks the kiss, panting. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night,” she husks before beginning a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. She doesn’t have to specify in order for you to know she’s talking about the wedding night. “I know you don’t remember – You kissed me.” She’s kissing her way down your neck now, stopping to nip at your pulse point, both hands on your breasts now. “I kissed you back. Hell, I almost fucked you right then and there when you told me you wanted to know how it felt for me to cum inside you.” She pinches your nipples between her fingers, pulling a whimper from your throat. “You said you didn’t even care if it were possible for me to get you pregnant. You’d still take it.” She pulls away just long enough to pull your tank top off and toss it to the ground somewhere before she’s on you again, kissing her way down your chest. “But you were so drunk, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how your mom had just married my dad.”

The pieces are all falling into place now. You hadn’t been reading too much into anything; Angela needs you just as much as you need her, and it doesn’t matter anymore what obstacles are in your way. She’s going to take you, and you’re going to let her.

“Seeing you with her was too much.” She wraps her lips around your nipple and you groan, your knuckles turning white as you grip the edge of the sink. “You’re mine, not hers.” As she pulls away, she adds, “Now turn around.”

Obediently, you turn to face the sink, making eye contact with Angela’s reflection in the mirror. “Good girl,” she praises, pressing into you from behind. It’s only then that you feel something hard pressing against your cunt, and as she tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and pulls down her shorts with the other, she leans into you, slowly lining up her strap-on with your soaking wet entrance.

“Oh god,” you moan, pressing back into Angela. She pushes inside you slowly, giving you time to adjust to the thickness of it as she buries herself inside you inch by inch. “Please, Angela – More.”

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Angela groans, pushing deeper and deeper until she’s buried completely inside you. “And so fucking wet – Fuck yes, take it all.” Slowly, she pulls out before thrusting inside you again – hard. The slow pace she sets doesn’t last long before she’s picking up speed, slamming her hips into yours and causing your own hips to slam into the sink over and over.

You bite your lip, trying to muffle your whimpers and moans, and as your eyes flutter shut, Angela tugs your head back by the hair until you’re looking at her in the mirror again. “Eyes open, baby. I don’t want you to miss a single second of me taking what’s mine. Got it?”

You nod, watching your breasts bounce from the force of Angela’s thrusts, watching as Angela’s hand leaves your hair to wrap around your throat instead while she digs her nails into your hip with her other hand. “I’m yours – I’m all yours. I always have been,” you moan, desperation evident in the tone of your voice.

Angela groans, her strap covered in your juices as she practically pounds you into the sink. Your moans grow louder until your step-sister covers your mouth with her hand. “Be quiet – Unless you want your girlfriend to come looking for you only to find you cumming on your step-sister’s cock.”

The whine that escapes you is muffled, your walls squeezing around Angela’s strap. Your hand reaches up to rest on the back of Angela’s head, pulling face into your neck. As she kisses your neck, your hand curls into a fist around her hair, tugging it slightly and causing Angela to groan into your neck. You never want this to end, but you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm as you hear Angela moaning as she begins to suck a mark onto your neck.

“I’ve been so fucking pent up all day,” Angela groans, breathless. “I’m gonna do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” She’s slamming into you now, hard and fast, her strap deeper inside you than anyone’s ever been before. “I’m gonna breed you and you’re gonna take it.”

You’re pretty sure she’s just saying that to push you closer to the edge, but when her hips slam one last time into you before stilling, you actually feel her flooding you with cum. With the realization that she’s wearing a strap-on filled with fake cum just so she can cum inside you, you’re pushed over the edge yourself, your walls squeezing and spasming around Angela’s cock. You tug on her hair harder, pulling a deep groan from Angela’s throat as she slowly fucks her cum into you.

“You’re mine now,” she moans, her pace slowing more and more as the two of you come down from your highs. She takes her hand off your mouth, both hands now gripping your hips.

With a breathless laugh, you make eye contact with her in the mirror, your hand releasing its hold on her hair and lowering to rest on top of her hand on your hip. “I think you’ve made that clear.”

#angela giarratana x reader #angela giarratana smut

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obwjam · 2 months ago

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a small surprise part 2 (gravity falls g/t)

read part 1 here!

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

Stanley had tried everything he could think of.

Which, admittedly, wasn’t much. Pulling the lever, smacking the big button, pushing and flicking and kicking every button and switch and piece of metal he could see, but it was no use. Not even a spark.

Journal in hand, he quietly made his way toward the elevator. He was relieved to see the tiny person seemingly asleep, because he couldn’t deal with that right now. He spent his night poring through the pages, slumped over on the bed in Ford’s room, occasionally rubbing his glasses like it was a genie’s lamp, hoping it would make him reappear at any moment.

He didn’t remember falling asleep that night, but dim sunlight passing over his eyes told him he must have been out for a while, because the storm had subsided, but only outside. Stanley instantly remembered every detail from the night before; most notably, the strange little person he had encountered and subsequently stranded. His stomach churned at that. That was a pretty terrible thing to do, wasn’t it? It felt nice to feel like he had power for a little bit, but 12 hours removed from his initial shock and anger, that familiar feeling of helplessness was creeping back in. If he wanted to get Ford back as quickly as possible, he needed all the help he could get. Besides, this nonsensical journal made almost no sense to Stanley. Maybe it made sense to the half-pint.

But when he dragged himself back down to the bunker, he gasped. The tiny person was lying down the same way she had been last night. She hadn’t even moved, it looked like.

“Oh, no,” Stanley mumbled, rapidly putting the journal down and scrambling on top of the table. His stomach sank as he peered inside the jar – her eyes were most definitely closed, and he couldn’t tell if she was breathing or the glass was just warped. Carefully, he lifted the jar into his hands as he hopped back down to the ground. He nearly recoiled at how cold the jar was to the touch. That couldn’t be good. He let out a huge sigh when he saw her squirm ever so slightly at the change in altitude… but she still didn’t wake up.

“Great, just great,” Stan groaned. “Now I have to take care of this.” He was going to pretend like this wasn’t his doing in the first place.

The first thing he did was unscrew the lid; he winced at the loud squeaking noise it made. He stood still for a moment, questioning if he really wanted to do this. He could just stick the jar back up on the shelf, behind some books, and forget this ever happened… but this thing, tiny as she was, was a person, with thoughts and feelings and apparent knowledge on the very thing he was puzzling over. And sure, she may be weird, but Stan could really use some company he didn’t meet in a Colombian prison.

He carefully tilted the jar down and allowed the tiny person to slide onto his palm, thinking that would be enough to stir them from whatever deep sleep they were in. But to Stan’s horror, it was like holding an ice cube in his hand. They were freezing. No wonder they weren’t waking up.

He groaned, keeping his hand far away from his body like he was holding something poisonous. He twisted around a few times to see if he could use anything to warm her up. Didn’t Ford keep any space heaters down here?

“C’mon, Poindexter, you gotta have something,” Stanley muttered. He glanced down at the tiny again. He was trying not to think about the fact that they even exist, because the moment he did, he would have to accept the fact that his entire worldview was now decidedly, permanently, altered from this. Somehow, with all he had been through, this was still the weirdest thing he’s ever seen.

And she was just – a person. But really, really small. There was no discernible difference, as far as Stan could tell. Boy, that really has to suck, he thought as he pushed aside junk on every table. How can anyone live like that?

Eventually, he found what he was looking for – sort of. It was a ragged cloth, covered in grease and, as a sniff test determined, various other fluids. But as long as it meant not having to hold some half-alive miniature human, he didn’t care. He unceremoniously dumped her into the cloth, once again relieved to see her still on this earth as she squirmed a bit at the new surface.

“Ugh. Finally,” Stan grumbled. He quickly set the cloth on the table and got up to continue tweaking the portal, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He stopped after a few steps.

He couldn’t just… ugh. He turned back around, flexing his hands. I can’t just leave ‘em here. Ew. Why was he thinking that? Because they’re smaller than a damn pencil and can’t survive here on their own. Okay, so what? And how did he even know that? He had no obligation to take care of anyone but himself. But they’ll die down here. Who cares? And it’d be all your fault. No, it wouldn’t. Just like Ford.

Stanley shut his eyes and rubbed them hard. Since when did he develop a conscience? That was inconvenient. But this pipsqueak had said something that Stan found he couldn’t get out of his mind – I was around when Ford worked on it. Even if she didn’t actually do anything, she knew Ford and had some semblance of understanding about the inner workings of this thing, which was more than Stan could say. Maybe she knew where the other journals were, too. Or maybe she’d be able to stop Stan from going insane.

Ugh.

He pulled up the rickety stool he was sitting on last night and flopped down, placing his elbows on the table and leaning his chin into his hands. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated on her tiny form, as if it would help her wake up. Though he didn’t do anything to jolt her awake, his concentration did pay off when he started to notice her breathing. It stunned his mind silent. He could actually see her tiny chest expanding, retracting, expanding, retracting with her breathing. Tiny strands of her hair were being pushed and pulled along with the movement. She was dirtier than she looked from afar. Can she even take a shower? Eugh. She had all sorts of scratches and bruises along her skin including a long gash over her left eye that would have looked kind of badass if it probably didn’t come from fighting a rat or something.

It was hard to imagine Ford actually befriending something – someone like that, and regarding them as an equal. Stan wasn’t even sure he could think of them as equal. Ford had a condescending way about him; he’s been looking down on Stan since they were teenagers. Why should some four-inch-tall person get more respect than he did? It wasn’t fair. Stan was family. Family was the most important thing in the world. Right?

Stanley took one more long look at the tiny and sighed. Yeah, she probably wasn’t waking up anytime soon. Well, he was already sitting down… he might as well keep thumbing through this journal and see if he could make any sense of it.

*******

Why was everything so fuzzy?

It was like she was moving underwater. Even blinking seemed to go in slow motion. It didn’t help that she was wandering around some dark, dirty room. She couldn’t even feel her limbs moving. They just… did.

Who’s there?

That voice. It was unmistakable! She called out his name, straining her voice more each time.

Hello?

Why couldn’t he hear her? He always heard her. She screamed even louder. “IT’S ME!” she yelled. “RIGHT HERE!”

What in the world…

A form that didn’t even look like his loomed large over her. His glasses were opaque, his expression stoic. He seemed to have no regard for her as his foot slammed down next to her, causing her to fall. She tried to get up, but the sensation of him kneeling down was enough to keep her pressed into the ground. He extended his hand right at her, emotionless, unwavering, not stopping until he gets what he wants. He didn’t seem to hear her pleading, even as he snatched her up. The squeezing feeling was nearly suffocating–

Suddenly, she shot up. Her ears were ringing, and she was drenched in a cold sweat, but everything was moving at normal speeds again. She allowed herself a few heavy breaths before wiping her face with her hands. It had been ages since she’d last had a nightmare that bad. Not since…

“Sheesh, about time you woke up.”

Her blood ran ice cold as she slowly turned her head to meet the booming voice. Him. Ford’s brother. Stanley. The one who stuck her inside a jar last night and left her for dead. Maybe she was still dreaming. Or maybe this was the afterlife.

She began to inch back, planning on pressing herself to the back of the glass jar, but immediately sank downward. What the hell? She jerked her head down, discovering a grey cloth that was once probably white cushioning her. Before she could even think, stars filled her vision, and she clutched her head as her temples throbbed.

Stan raised an eyebrow at her reaction, letting out a small eugh at the way she wobbled back and forth. He guessed it had to be a bit disorienting to be stuck on a tabletop, barely even registering as a speck in this massive place.

He watched – in pity, he later realized, which made him shudder – as the tiny person whipped her head around, clearly disoriented and clearly freaked out by Stan’s proximity. When their eyes met, hers burned with a fear he wasn’t quite sure he’d ever seen before. He kept a straight face, but he knew he had to say something. This was starting to make him uncomfortable.

“Woah, woah, take it easy,” he grumbled, his voice softer than he expected it would be. “I’m not gonna do that again.” Her skeptical expression made him snicker. “I’m serious, short stuff. I was just… mad, last night. Lost my temper.”

Yeah, she thought, cold creeping up her spine. That’s the problem.

Stan couldn’t take looking her in the eye anymore, so he brought his focus back to the journal, pretending to scan through its pages. A few minutes passed, and the tiny didn’t move.

“You were freezing,” Stan started, not looking up from the book. “Inside that jar. So I found that cloth. Thought it might warm you up.”

Jay wanted to laugh, but nothing about that was funny. No wonder she felt so lethargic. She nearly froze to death. Somewhere inside her, she appreciated the gesture, but it didn’t take heightened senses to know this rag was gross. She would almost rather freeze than smell like… god, what even was that?

Stanley frowned. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised she didn’t want to talk to him, but it mildly freaked him out that she wouldn’t even look at him. She kept her eyes trained at the ground, trying not to make any sudden movements, like he would forget all about her if she stayed still long enough. Ugh. Why did he feel so bad about this? I guess it is my fault.

“Y’know, I never, uh, asked you what your name was.”

Jay blinked. No, he didn’t, and she sure as hell didn't want him to know it. It would just be another thing he could use against her if he had to. But what power did she have in this situation to stay silent? He could – no, would – just throw her back in the jar at the slightest inconvenience.

Stan shifted uncomfortably. “Look, tiny, I… I know I probably shouldn’t have put you in that jar.” Jay looked up, surprised. She wasn’t expecting an apology. Stan tried to hide his amusement at her tiny movements. “And I know you have no reason to trust me. But if we want to get Ford back, we need to work together, right? Not like you can fix the portal all by yourself.” Jay thought for a moment, brushing aside yet another size-related comment, then gave a tentative nod. She didn’t feel like facing his wrath by disagreeing. “So, whadda ya say? Truce?”

Truce was a strong word. She didn’t want to do this, but she had to. He was right about one thing – there was nothing she could do in this situation without Stan’s help. And she really, really just wanted to get Ford back as quickly as possible so she never had to see his twin again.

She flinched when a giant finger entered her view, stopping inches in front of her face – a reflex that did not go unnoticed by Stan. He was going for one of those handshakes that humans loved to do. Just like Ford had done when they first met.

Stan was grinning, but it had a smarmy edge to it that she didn’t like. He was amused by the size difference, and his smile only grew wider when Jay hesitantly reached her hands out and placed them on either side of his fingertip. He gently shook his finger, but the movement was enough to nearly pull Jay into the air from her seated position. She quickly regained her balance and shot Stan a nasty look. He just laughed.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” he said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. That was all Jay needed to get serious.

“Okay, listen, if we’re gonna be doing this, we need to lay down some ground rules.”

Stan’s eyes briefly lit up at the sound of her voice. “Oh? And what would those be?”

Jay rolled her eyes. “No touching me without asking. No, you know what, no touching me at all. I’m not your plaything. And if I say something, you actually have to listen. Don’t just brush me off. And…” she trailed off, unsure of how bold she wanted to be.

“And? And what?” Stan was still smiling. Jay grimaced.

“And… you need to share food and water with me. It’s… what Ford did.”

The room grew quiet at the mention of Ford’s name, and even Stan could sense this wasn’t the moment for a joke. He didn’t put two seconds into thinking how she would eat or drink, but it’s not like she could just walk down the street and go to the grocery store. He didn’t feel like getting into the fact that he had no money for food or water or… anything.

Stan stole a glance at the tiny, who was clearly waiting for an acknowledgement. It didn't seem like she noticed him faltering. Stan leaned back, waving his hand dismissively. “Yeah, sure, whatever, easy enough. You should know that I’m not too good at following rules, though.”

Jay sighed. Just when she thought she had gotten through… no, it was fine. He had listened... in his own Stanley way.

“I’m serious though, kid, you gotta tell me your name. I doubt you want me calling you pipsqueak all the time.”

Jay crossed her arms. “You’ll do that anyway.”

Stan smiled. “Yeah, probably.”

Despite herself, Jay smirked. This giant definitely had Ford’s cockiness, but also his intangible charm. He was unapologetically himself.

“My name’s Jay,” she said finally, taking a moment to meet Stan’s eyes. Her cheeks flushed red when he raised his eyebrows.

“Jay? Huh. Interesting. Is that short for somethin’?” Stan paused before bursting out into laughter. “Short for something – ha! I mean – you are, short for something – HA!”

“Okay, not funny,” she mumbled, her entire face now burning.

“No, it’s pretty funny.” Stan shook for a few more seconds. “Okay, okay, I’m done.”

“Do you actually want to know why that’s my name?”

Stan leaned down, intrigued. “Oh, there’s actually a reason? Thought it was just some weird tiny person thing.”

“Yes, there’s actually a reason,” Jay shot back, trying to hide her nerves. “All borrower names have significance.”

It took Stan a moment to remember what a borrower was, but he just nodded, prompting her to continue.

“I, um. I grew up in the forest,” she started tentatively, gauging his reaction. He just kept staring. Jay moved her gaze back to her lap. “So we relied a lot on nature. My, uh, family… they relied on birds, a lot. We helped them, they helped us, that kind of thing. So they named me Jay.” She paused, giving Stan room to say something. He didn’t. “Like the bird.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Stanley said, sounding a little breathless. He would never admit it, but that little detail had completely captivated him. She grew up in the forest? It really was like a fairy tale. Except she was no fairy, and this was no tale. After reading through the journal last night, it was clear that this town was full of wacky paranormal weirdness, because Ford didn’t have enough of an imagination to dream all of that nonsense up himself.

But there was nothing in the journal about this tiny – Jay – that he could use as a reference. He was curious, sure, but he wasn't going to waste his time asking her details about her weird tiny life. He just wanted his brother back. She was a vehicle to make that happen. That was it. Nothing more.

Jay cleared her throat. “So if you could just call me that, instead of some degrading size-based nickname, that would be appreciated.”

“Hm? Oh, sure thing, short stuff.” Jay let out a long sigh, but Stan didn’t hear. He tapped the journal impatiently. “Can we get back to the important stuff now? Like, what does…” Stan squinted at the page, “...‘quantum entanglement’ mean? That sounds made up.”

Jay rubbed the brim of her nose. “It means–”

“Nope, don’t care,” Stan cut her off, flipping to the next page. “First lesson – don’t waste my time with a bunch of nerdy words that I won’t understand. I’m sure we can figure this out without you giving me a chemistry lesson.”

“It’s physics,” Jay mumbled, plopping down on the table. She allowed the journal to tower over her as she stared straight ahead, out into the vast room before her. She had spent a lot of nights down in this bunker, and it was hard not to feel a little wistful for the times when Ford would fall asleep with papers stuck to his face, or when Fiddleford was so hopped up on caffeine he would dance around the room and talk a million miles per hour, or the rare times when Ford would share personal anecdotes and forget all about the portal for a few hours.

Now, in the blink of an eye, it was gone, replaced with a dark, musty room whose only occupants were a tired, run-down Jay and her best friend’s sarcastic, impatient twin brother whom she did not trust one bit. Ford was always telling her to trust no one. Maybe it’s high time she listened.

Stan silently flipped through the journal for another five minutes before letting out a loud groan and slamming his head down into the pages. Jay let out a small yelp, instinctively scooting back.

“This is stupid,” Stan said to no one in particular. “I’m getting a soda.”

Jay watched, helpless, as Stan disappeared down the hall, mumbling about Ford’s apparent stupidity.

This was going to take a long, long time.

#these two idiots #they wont accomplish SHIT #but they'll try their best #obwrites #gravity falls #gravity falls g/t #g/t #giant/tiny

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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 2 months ago

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Someone needs to give me answers

We may assume, then, that the idea of breeding the Orcs came from Melkor, not at first maybe so much for the provision of servants or the infantry of his wars of destruction, as for the defilement of the Children and the blasphemous mockery of the designs of Eru. The details of the accomplishment of this wickedness were, however, left mainly to the subtleties of Sauron.

In that case the conception in mind of the Orcs may go far back into the night of Melkor's thought, though the beginning of their actual breeding must await the awakening of Men. When Melkor was made captive, Sauron escaped and lay hid in Middle-earth; and it can in this way be understood how the breeding of the Orcs (no doubt already begun) went on with increasing speed during the age when the Noldor dwelt in Aman;"

Morgoth's Ring, Myths Transformed

Morgoth had the idea, and entrusted Sauron with overseeing the breeding of Orcs (who reproduce sexually). “Rings of Power” established that Adar is their “father”. Which makes me ask: what kind of dark sorcery, twisted sex magic, happened here??

First question: how and why was Adar chosen out of the thirteen Moriondor? From what “Rings of Power” told us, it seems having children was Adar’s true heart desire:

Sauron is the cursed “wish-granger”, which seems to indicate he’s the one who sort Adar out. And we have the story of how they met, told by Adar himself, in 2x01:

In the eldest of the Elder Days. Thirteen of us were chosen to be blessed of Morgoth’s hand, with the promise of power. A new birth. I was led up to a dark and nameless peak. Chained and left. And after what seemed endless thirst and hunger… I saw it. His servant’s face. Sauron’s face. And it was beautiful. He offered me wine, red as a blood moon. He offered me wine, and on that dark and nameless peak, I drank it. I drank it all.

Now, red is the color chosen to represent Sauron’s deceptions in “Rings of Power”, so, clearly, Sauron had a hidden motive for his “kindness” towards Adar, and it seems it’s because he was the “chosen one” to carry out Morgoth’s Orc breeding plan.

But how did Sauron accomplished this? How did he gave Adar children? Obviously Sauron didn’t birth any Orcs himself, because Tolkien addressed this issue in his essay “Orcs”: Sauron never took a Orc form nor bound himself to it. Which means he would never look like this, if he was going around birthing Orcs:

Nor would he ever do such a thing. And we don’t have any indication that Sauron ever took on a “female form” because Tolkien established that Maiar are bound to their original gender created by Eru. Mairon was a male spirit, and will always remain so.

That nonsense of him taking Galadriel form in 2x08 opened a rabbit hole of problems and contradicts what the show previous established: in 2x01 he “eats” a woman to regain his physical form but remains a male (precisely because Maiar are bound to their original gender):

I won’t bother you with my personal grievances of Season 2 finale, but it’s clear many things were changed at the last minute, for whatever reason, and ended up not making sense.

Anyway, for Adar to be the “father of the Orcs” (and this is often meant as literal in the show), he had to be the one who, actually, fathered the first “batch” and the Orcs “multiplied like flies” from there. With Sauron apparently overseeing the entire process. Did he has some sort of “breeding pit” for this? Was he going around watching the Orcs “going at it”? At least for the first ones. Too many weird questions.

But the weirdest is: how did this happened? Did Sauron picked out some random she-elf and corrupted her into a Orc like Adar, for this to happen like the standard Orc reproduction (sexual)? We have no indication of this happening, whatsoever, and Sauron himself couldn’t do this, it had to be Morgoth corrupting. And Adar didn’t had a female partner, and Sam Hazeldine pretty much confirmed Adar was in love with Sauron (and this was very obvious on the show itself).

All hints there was some sort of bizarre sorcery involved in this process. But how? Did Sauron collected Adar’s semen and worked from there? If yes, what did he do? Because evil beings don’t have the power of creation (that belongs to Eru alone) without actual reproduction. Someone really needs to explain this.

#rings of power #the rings of power #Sauron rings of power #Sauron trop #Sauron rop #Adar #Adar rings of power #orcs #Sauron x Adar

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lulublack90 · 6 months ago

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Prompt 10 - Penpals

@wolfstarmicrofic July 10, word count 983

‘Dear Padfoot,

Wales is the most beautiful country and there are so many exciting things to do here, so why did my parents pick the most boring village to live in? It’s so dull here. I miss the chaos of our dorm room and the library. There’s a library van that comes here every two weeks, but the old duffer who drives it won’t let me take more than three books out at once. I need more than three!

How’s it going at home? You said in your last letter that your Mum caught you replacing her chinaware with nose-biting teacups. While I’d pay good money to see Walburga Black with a teacup stuck on the end of her nose, Sirius, we talked about this. Please keep your head down, we both know she doesn’t mess around. If you can’t go the next few weeks without causing some mayhem, please, keep it to your room. Maybe use that extra strong spellotape I gave you for Easter?

Don’t be a dick.

Moony.’

‘Dearest Moony,

Please find enclosed a photograph of one Walburga Black with a teacup attached to the end of her nose. Free of charge, I might add. You can keep your good money, this one’s on me.

Sorry it’s taken me so long to reply, but I think you can guess why. It was totally worth it though.

Your idea to use the spellotape you gave me was genius, Moony! I stuck all of Regulus’s bedroom furniture to his ceiling, it took them all night to get it down. Regulus took my bed while Kreacher worked on his room. But I just got in with him. He was not impressed. This house has ten bedrooms. I don’t know why he didn’t just use one of them.

Prongs sent me some frogspawn soap, and I’m going to put it in my father's bathroom. Not pranked him for a while, I bet he’s missing it!

I’ve sent you some of the lesser dark arts books from our library. Maybe don’t let Hope touch them, as I’m not sure if there are any antimuggle curses on them or not. Knowing my family there probably is.

Love ya Moons,

Pads X.’

‘Dear Sirius,

I swear you get some sick thrill from being punished. WHY WOULD YOU PUSH HER!!! Although the picture is my new favourite thing. I got it framed, and it is now on my bedside table. It’s the last thing I see at night.

Thanks for the books. I’ve hidden them from Mum just in case. They’re really interesting. Do you know that not all dark magic is bad, and it’s just a few idiots that gave it a bad name? According to this book, light and dark magic users used to live harmoniously until a dark wizard took it too far, and dark wizards have had a bad name ever since. It’s fascinating. Please send more if you can. I finished them far too quickly.

Sirius, please stop pranking your parents. Remember what happened last summer? Do you want a repeat of that? You can pull off a lot of looks, but a shiny bald head is not one of them. So knock it off, or they’ll send you back with hair like Snivellus!

There are three weeks left, Sirius, please, please, please stay out of trouble.

Love you too,

Remus x.’

‘My sweetest, most handsome Remus,

It is not in my nature to behave. I am a natural prankster and I go into withdrawal if I don’t prank at least once a day. You know that!

I’ve sent as many books as mine and Reggie’s owls could carry between them. Reg is going to kill me, but it’s for a good cause. He’s actually been alright with me this last week. We’ve been hanging out in the library together while I’ve been looking for new books to send you. We haven’t spent this much good time together since I went to Hogwarts.

That’s what I’ve been telling you for years, it’s only pricks like Bellatrix that give dark wizards a bad name. But oh well, what can you do?

The weirdest thing happened, Remus. Father finally used the soap I swapped out in his bathroom and he laughed. I didn’t think Orion Black was capable of such things. It's unnerving.

I will admit that I’ve taken to committing small pranks in lieu of bigger ones. I drew moustaches on all the portraits the other night while they were sleeping and so far no one has noticed. It’s been three days, Moony!

I can’t wait for the summer to be over. I have a whole notebook filled with pranks for next year. Plus, I really need to stretch my legs if you know what I mean. These paws of mine are itching for a run. How about yours?

Love you

Sirius XXX

P.S. How dare you, I totally pulled off the bald look! Mary did an excellent job of painting that lion on the back of it for our first Quidditch match!’

‘To the biggest pain in my arse,

Sirius, you are such a pest. STOP PRANKING!!! We can get as many Slytherins as you want when we get back to school. Hell, we can start on the train if you need to prank that badly. Thank Regulus for the use of his owl. I’ve nearly finished all the books you sent again. I just can’t put them down. Hogwarts should have some of these in the library. I’ve clearly been missing out on a fully-rounded education.

Not much to report here. I baked a cake with Mum, and we ate most of it before Dad got home from work.

We have a run the first week back, so not long to wait.

I miss you,

Remus X.’

‘Remus,

I can’t wait.

Miss you more than you know

Yours forever

Sirius XXX.’

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nerdanel01 · 15 days ago

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No. 7 - the marriage proposal from Love Is A Stranger

Several things—bizarre, inexplicable, and world-shattering things—all happened at once then, in a stupendous and stupefying sequence.

Firstly: that Emmrich let go of Eric— willingly, without fight. Agnes had somewhat suspected she’d never be able to part them without physically prising Eric out of his father’s arms ever again. He unwound their child from his waist, and placed him, delicately, onto his stomach, back on the heavy blanket they had set out upon the floor.

Secondly: that—in fully the weirdest, most off-putting display of necromancy Agnes had ever seen Emmrich commit (and he had done some weird shit)—with a gesture and a bit of wordless magic, he had summoned a macabre joinwork of skeletal hands waving on skeletal forearms, ensconcing Eric with enough room for him to roam on hands and knees, but without the possibility of him wandering far and hurting himself, or getting filthy, or putting something in his mouth he oughtn’t. Effective, perhaps—but also, nightmare-inducing. Eric—who was too young to recognize bone matter when he saw it, and lacked even the cognitive wherewithal to know what a bone was —found the entire trick delightful, and was giggling gleefully from his osseous confines.

Thirdly: that Emmrich was stalking towards her with a look of starved determination, like a wolf in winter on the doorstep of death.

Fourthly—and the last thing she noticed, before her world inverted and shook her about like a piggy bank from which it was trying to extract, not so much coins, but the hope of coins, coins imagined, stuck somewhere in ceramic recesses; and the violence of that shaking was such that Agnes was not entirely sure it had really happened—she swore she heard him muttering indignantly under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like,“what I must do…”

Then he snaked an arm around her waist, tilted her chin up to his face, and kissed her full on the mouth.

She had been prepared for this morning, for this confrontation—this negotiation of Eric’s future—to go any number of ways, but this had decidedly not been one of them. She went utterly limp with shock—like a corpse freshly dead, before rigor had begun to set—and would have fallen to the ground completely, had it not been for Emmrich’s grip around her, holding her fast against him.

He kissed her softly, gently, and her heart pounded madly against her ribs like a rabbit trying to escape a trap; it made no sense. He had said he wanted nothing to change between them. He had said….

He pulled his mouth away from hers to breath into the space between them, to brush the words against her lips, much too kindly, much too patiently:

“Was that so loveless to you?”

Loveless? Love? Was this love? Her heart afire like it was going to fail, a panicked sweat breaking out across her brow, her stomach performing world-class circus acrobatics. Oh, heavens—would she even know love if she saw it, now? It had been a stranger to her from the death of her mother, through the long and lonely years until the birth of her son. And the love she felt for Eric never made her feel so feeble and frightened, as she did now, like a cornered animal.

“Emmrich….”

Both low warning and plea.

“Nessa, forgive me,” he said—hearing him call her by that old endearment felt as warm and comfortable as sinking into a hot, just-drawn bath—and his long-fingered warm hand came to cup her face, and she thought, ‘what for? It is I who absconded with your firstborn.’ But his next words sent icy chills down what little spine she had left.

“All this time, I did not see. I have been an utter fool. I had no idea.”

He spoke with such sober, sagacious understanding, and Agnes was terrified: terrified of what he had seen in the blank spaces between her words, in all the things she had not said. Her heart felt as though it was about to arrest. He kept his forehead kissed to hers, and his thumb stroked away the sudden tears spilling down her cheek as he spoke:

“Already you are the mother of my son. Be my beloved; be my wife; and be assured there will be nothing loveless about it. Lay down beside me each evening in this waking life, and let those who outlive us lay your bones beside mine in death, or else suffer my wrath at being parted from you. Agnes Gallatus, my brave and brilliant companion, marry me, and grant me the privilege of loving you for the rest of our mortal and eternal days.”

…Agnes had accused him of insincerity, but now, Emmrich smacked of sincerity. He was the very picture of sincerity. The sincerity and warmth and affection in his brown-flecked green eyes was, quite frankly, both astonishing and a little embarrassing for Agnes to behold, and it rendered her utterly mute.

He had measured the black hole of her heart by its perimeter alone, though she had never made mention of it. He had seen in that pit everything she had never said, so transparent, so see-through, so paper thin was she to him after all these years. He had seen it, plucked it free, and he had spoken it aloud—voiced her heart’s most sacred, impossible desire, as though doing so did not threaten to rend her to shreds—and all but promised her that she could have it.

After all these years, he had unmade her in an instant, ripped away all the walled protection she had built around her heart to keep her sane, to keep her safe.

And then—with infinite grace, for which Agnes might have kissed him herself if she could have managed to make her mouth obey her thoughts—Emmrich gave it all back to her. He gave her a choice.

“Or don’t,” he said, simply, and stepped away from her, leaving her heady and jelly-legged and propped against the kitchen table behind her. “Tell me no. You owe me nothing, and I will not resent you if you prefer a… different path. I want you, but only willing; and if you do not want me, I will not abandon you to the whims of my father. I will support you in finding a way for this to work for both of us—most of all, for Eric.”

Agnes felt the world re-solidify beneath her feet, only for the whole if it to go wobbly and uncertain again when Emmrich concluded with his final coup:

“But do not deceive yourself nor dishonor me ever again, Agnes, by implying either directly or indirectly that I would have married you merely out of convenience. Out of obligation, or duty.” His mouth—his mouth which he had very recently and most unexpectedly pressed against her mouth, her mouth which still burned with the memory of his upon it—twitched beneath his dark mustache into a wistful smile.

“You are—have always been—much more to me than that.”

…was this love? This roaring of her own blood in her ears, this incoherency? This breathlessness as she fisted her hand in his shirt and drew him near to her again, whispered his name—

“Emmrich…”

—as he whispered breathlessly back, “yes…?”

Agnes kissed him softly—tentatively—almost suspiciously, with her eyes still open; the faintest, most virginal brush of her lips against his. His eyes fluttered closed when her mouth met his; before he could blink them open again she pressed a bolder kiss to his lips; then another.

And he did not run. He did not stop her. He did not change his mind. He did not bargain or plead or try to negotiate with her. When she withdrew, Emmrich only looked at her with infinite patience—looked at her mouth with gentlemanly restraint, with thinly veiled hunger.

Agnes parted her legs; Emmrich sidled his lean body between them. And she kissed him, then, properly: open-mouthed, eyes closed.

And he kissed her in a way he had never kissed her before—none of the guilt, nor the shame, nor the restraint that had dogged and chained him when they had first collided so many months ago—full-bodied, groaning obscenely into her mouth. Agnes (who had not been touched with desire since that night, and—since Eric’s birth, and the utter mangle it had made of her body—had rarely since even touched herself) felt herself go wet at the sound alone. Her hands gripped his hips, pulled him nearer, and Agnes cried aloud, piteously, nearly undone at the irrefutable evidence of his enthusiasm pressing hot and urgent against her thigh. It did not seem prudent, to be rutting with Emmrich on her kitchen table with their infant son mere feet away... but each incredulous, half-gasped moan of pleasure that Emmrich poured hotly into her ears went straight to her gut; sent tingles down her spine; sent her back arching off the table—it would not take her long, she would not last—

The table shuddered beneath them.

The hot pot of half-burned porridge began to roll off its trivet.

Emmrich was faster than Agnes. With a half-muttered curse, he grabbed the pot, bare-handed—swearing again as his skin made contact with the hot iron, setting the precariously wobbling pot upright before it came away an ugly, raw, red. When he met her eyes again, he did so with an embarrassed laugh, a blush sweetly coloring the high points of his cheeks.

Agnes took his hand between hers, pressed a kiss to his fingertips as her magic washed over him—simple, elementary healing magic, the kind Emmrich had taught her how to master—soothing the burned skin, then repairing it entirely. Long past the point when his hand was renewed, she kept brushing her fingers over his palms, her eyes locked on his.

“When I return to the Necropolis today,” he told her, deep-voiced and throaty but smiling all the while, “do I have your permission to share the good news with Johanna?”

“What good news?” she teased him, pressing a coy kiss to the tip of his nose before ducking out of his arms, sweeping Eric out of the morbid playpen Emmrich had erected to contain him. “And put that ghastly display away, now, will you?”

With a gesture, the bone crumbled to cremains. Lovely. Agnes would have to beat the blanket out in the sun, to launder it heavily before she let Eric anywhere near it again. Before she could berate Emmrich for this, he slipped his arms around her waist, tucked his chin over her shoulder, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and told her the good news:

“That you are to be my wife.”

Agnes quirked her lips in a bashful smile, glad for the way his head was tucked against her shoulder, for it hid somewhat the girlish look she was wearing from gaze.

“I don’t recall agreeing to your offer.”

“Are you refusing, then?”

“...No.”

Agnes turned in his arms, Eric nestled safe and warm between them. And her cheeks were really aflame now. And she could not help it; and she did not care.

“Andraste preserve me, I don’t know how I’ll ever have the heart to refuse you anything now, Emmrich Volkarin,” she told him, in a tone that might have been chiding, if it were not so saturated with fondness. “You have won. I will love you; I will be your wife; I will gladly be wholly and utterly yours.” [read full chapter] --- I’m really proud of all the writing I did this year! So for the last ten days of 2024 I’m going to be reblogging my 10 favorite pieces that I wrote.

This is excerpted from my accidental pregnancy/Dad!Emmrich fic. I'm proud of Love Is A Stranger in general—I basically wrote it on a whim because two people enabled me—but this is probably one of my favorite passages in the whole fic, where all the miscommunications are finally getting resolved and Emmrich finally gets to be full devastatingly passionate and charming.

#emmrich volkarin #dad!emmrich #emmrook #emrook #emmrich x rook #dragon age fanfic #dragon age emmric

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thatonepersonwhocantwrite · 9 months ago

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Wonderland pt 1

Part 1 (Eventually) Yandere Luke castellan x Gender neutral reader

Summary you're from wonderland well at least you're mother is you're father is a God. The best swordsman in camp takes an.... interesting and obsessive liking to you

Also I feel like we offen forget wine isn't the only thing Dionysus is the God of but madness as well. I currently have bad writers block and couldn't currently think of anything else to add so I decided to split it into parts since I needed to post something.

Trigger warnings nothing yet, but eventually in future parts yandere themes like stalking, manipulation, kidnapping (extra)

You weren't from this world well......technically you are you were from a part of the world everyone thought was made up just another part of the human imagination......Wonderland . Wonderland was very.....disconnected from actual sane people or large bustling cities like New York. Your mother was probably one of the subjects of the queen of hearts just kinda surviving. Your father isn't exactly normal either he was also never around. Honestly as much as you love your mother it was kinda hard to imagine a God falling for her or really a God falling for anyone in Wonderland because while some of the inhabitants of Wonderland is more sane then others even the more sane ones start to go insane eventually.

Which is why when you were 13 you ran away from home. Although you had no clue where to go or what to do now you had left Wonderland. You're clothes and mismatched socks probably also made you stand out to by standers because in real life on Earth the other humans weren't used to seeing people dress in bright colors and patterns unless celebrating. After a few days of wandering aimlessly you ran into help or rather help ran into you.

You were desperately scrounging around for food thinking maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave home when you felt someone run smack into you causing you both to tumble towards the ground. "Oh my pan! I'm so sorry." A male voice said. He had ...goat horns? Ehh not the weirdest thing you've ever seen. "Are those horns really or .....?" You asked. "They're real. Oh I'm Grover. " Grover replied. You weren't sure what to say or do and that's how you met Grover. After about a week of traveling with Grover is when you met Luke, Thalia and Annabeth.

" Hey Grover I'm going to find something to eat for myself. " You replied. " Ok just don't go far I'll finish setting up camp." Grover said. You did in fact wander to far when you stumbled upon a bush full of berries and you were about to eat some when you heard a voice tell you to wait. "Wait, don't eat those! those are holly berries they are poisonous!" A young female voice exclaimed. You looked around for the source of the voice. You spotted a young girl no older than 7 standing between some trees you could make out 2 more figures behind her one another female and the other male. You backed away your left hand reaching for a dagger in your pocket you swear wasn't there a moment ago while you're right hand still held the berries.

" Who are you why should I trust you?" You questioned. You got a closer look at them the seven year old girl had grey eyes , black hair and brown skin, the other gir who looked about a year younger than you so 12 had choppy short black hair , blue eyes and is white. She pushed the younger seven year old behind her. " Thalia I can protect myself!" The seven year old exclaimed. While the two girls were arguing you managed to sneak away not noticing the male following you.

" Grover!" You exclaimed finally making it back to the very stressed looking satyr. Grover rushed over to you. " Y/n there you are! You were gone for an hour I was worried I was calling your name but no reply and I didn't want to leave the fire unattended. Your not hurt are you?" Grover asked like a panicked father looking over you to make sure you didn't have any new injuries. " Hey Grover I'm ok. I'm ok." You replied. " Pan Y/n you had me so worried!" Grover exclaimed. "LUKE!" The older female voice Thalia called out causing You and Grover to look in the direction of Thalia's voice and there stood the male that had been with the 2 younger females.

Now learning his name is Luke. You started to reach for your dagger once again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. "

#x reader #yn #percy jackson and the olympians #gender neutral reader #yandere luke castellan #grover pjo #grover underwood #thalia grace #annabeth chase #luke castellan x reader

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agirlandherkinks · 9 months ago

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Control Variables: Part 1 (Hypno, Expansion)

[Ally's Notes: The hypno and expansion bits come in the next part, this ended up being way bigger than I expected so I split it up] [I'd describe as weird corporate science-experiment-soft-non-con with a fun latexy skinsuit involved :3]

"HINATA! Where the FUCK did you put the hydraulic pump?!?"

An indignant voice barged into your consciousness, waking you up.

You were... somewhere? You opened your eyes, but only blackness greeted you. Were you in bed? Some kind of weight was pulling down on your head, so you must be upright. A helmet? You felt so, so tired and relaxed and comfy, the kind of grogginess that comes from sleeping 11 hours in a row. A harried voice with a strong accent (Japan, maybe?) barked back, making you wince.

"Well maybe YOU shouldn't decide to rearrange the workshop half an hour before a subject intake Lucinda! I have a perfect organizational system, if you would just. Stop... messing with the natural order of things... please?"

The voice trailed off until it was almost inaudible, and you realized that your ears felt muffled by something. Maybe you had a headset on? But why would you go to sleep wearing one of those? You attempted to bring your hand up to feel what it was, but with a gasp of surprise, found that you were tied up. Panic began to pierce your sleep-addled mind as you struggled against your bonds, your two captors seemingly oblivious as they argued. Panting from exertion (and embarrassingly, slight arousal), you stopped and took stock of your situation.

You were being held upright, against some sort of cushioned plank. Cold metal cords snaked tightly around your wrists and ankles, holding you spreadeagled and helpless. You could feel the cool breeze of an air conditioner caress your chin, arms, and legs, bringing up goosebumps. Your torso was covered in a clingy material, maybe some kind of wet latex? Your throat felt ever so slightly constricted, as if a wide metal collar wrapped around it. And with a start of outrage and fear, you realized you could feel cold air brushing against your pussy, nipples, and the side of your waist. There were windows in those areas! Were you in some sort of sex dungeon?!? Desperation overrode your self-control as you began thrashing against your restraints, yelling out against the slim chance someone could hear.

"Oh shit, she's come out of it-" Lucinda yelped. "Hinata! Get your sorry ass to that computer, or I will fucking end your career when the yearly peer review comes round! Ok, ok. Ok. Actually. Hinata, this development may be to our advantage. Begin recording."

Silence reigned for a few seconds, then bright light filled your vision as someone pulled your headset off. Blinking in pain as your eyes adjusted, you began to take in the space around you. If it was a sex dungeon, it had to be the weirdest one you'd ever seen. Pipes, wrenches, bolts and wiring filled the space around you, half of them not even connected to the convoluted machinery that surrounded you. Swinging your head around revealed no exit door, but you took in a few important details. A tank of fluid with a few... hoses, attached? Some devices that looked an awful lot like sex toys sat on the table next to them. On the far side of the room a reedy, anxious-looking man stood furiously tapping at a terminal, looking half-swallowed by an oversized lab coat. And uncomfortably close to your face, an immaculately preened woman with golden-red hair, clinically dead eyes, and an inexplicable boob window in her own lab coat stood smiling. It was a wide smile, very toothy, obviously meant to be reassuring. It put you in mind of a shark.

"Oh my goodness dear, we didn't realize you had woken up!" Her voice was chirpy and sweet, completely at odds with the fire-breathing she displayed earlier. "I'm so sorry for the distress you must be feeling. You see, subjects here are normally kept unconscious for the full duration of testing."

"T-testing?" You stammered, mouth feeling dry.

"Oh, do you not remember coming here? Many subjects have the same experience when interviewed afterwards, so that shows your procedure is still going to plan." Was her smile even wider now? "My name is Lucinda, that... gentleman over there is Hinata, and this is an R&D lab of BrainBlender Industries."

"That freaky sex toy company?!" you blurted, feeling your cheeks flare with heat. You had volunteered to test sex products? With THIS company?!?

"Not just sex toys," Lucinda cheerfully replied, smile now threatening to escape the bounds of her face. She clearly knew about the wild rumors surrounding BrainBlender. "We also produce recreational gear, leisurewear, and technology at the absolute cutting-edge of communication, biology, and psychology. We employ the finest minds for our development teams, and are absolutely stringent in the safety protocols of our testing sessions. And do try to relax. I'm sure you at least remember how much you're being paid for this."

The protests bubbling in your throat died as a 5-digit figure flashed out of your memory. Who could turn that down?

"Exactly!" she crowed, reading the expression on your face.

"Hey, so uh, what was the t-test going to be?" You stammered with embarrassment as you asked the question, having looked down and seen how stiff your nipples really were in the open air. You did have to admit though, the strange one-piece you wore was quite fetching. The material was a shimmery rose-gold with rose-red highlights running along its seams. It clung to your waist, hips, and admittedly quite small breasts in a way that made you feel sexy even while spreadeagled in a lab. And the way those windows curved around your nipples, they seemed to form the outline of cute little hearts. If you still weren't so mortified at waking up in a corporate sex dungeon, you probably would have giggled.

"Sorry sweetie, but we're conducting blind trials here. We'll start getting you back under in a minute." The redhead's cooed, corporate smile now unsettlingly authentic in response to your discomfort. "You see, we have to test your body's response to stimuli under completely controlled conditions. Otherwise, your expectations might change the way you process the input you're going receive."

"And speaking of input..." Lucinda produced a small device from her pocket, briefly holding it up to the light for inspection. Some sort of key? She began to dictate, completely ignoring your apprehension as she brought it towards your neck. "Test B279, new variation Delta. Variables of initial subject lucidity and individuality now left uncontrolled, to explore the effects of pleasure and conditioning on subject psyche in greater detail." You tried to shy back, but she continued inexorably forward, dictating over the top of your protests. One hand held the collar of your suit, and she began to sliiide the device into an opening within it. "First element of the conversion process: Initiated."

"Wait no no no n-" Click.

You gasped in euphoria as near-orgasmic levels of pleasure began coursing through your body, pulsing outwards from your neck to the rest of your torso. Biting your lip and arching your back, you couldn't decide whether to moan, giggle, or cry. Every inch of skin that touched your outfit blazed with pleasure, as if it was making your whole torse just as sensitive as your G-spot. Your self-restraint began to crumble as you started instinctively humping and twisting in place. You desperately needed to touch yourself, but all you could do was slide your ass and back against the plank. It felt gooooood.

"As planned and... visibly evident, the inserted module is circulating dopamine and oxytocin throughout the membrane of the pleasure-suit. The hormones are then transferred into the subject via contact with the skin." Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Lucinda circle behind you. "What is interesting is that this process appears to be causing the subject's skin to act as a primary erogenous zone. Note the elicited moans whenever it makes contact with the support plank."

She moved back to your side, and you heard the sound of a rubber glove being stretched over a hand. "Hypothesis 1: Sexual sensitivity increases exponentially with the skin's proximity to the suit." A firm hand gripped your ankle, and you whined in frustration as the plank moved away, leaving you held in the air. "Observe how the subject seems to attain no relief from contact with skin in its extremities. But here..." The hand crept up to your shin, and you shivered. "Subject's reaction is in line with a typical response to contact with the inner thigh. And speaking of-" Lucinda's musings were cut off by your moan as she squeezed your thigh. "Similar response to a tug of the nipple in an average female-" She cut off with a yelp as your hips unconsciously ground against her face. The brief contact made you moan even harder, feeling like someone had turned up a vibrator inside of you. "Subject rapidly losing composure, on the verge of a first orgasm. Two more samples required." And without warning, she slapped your ass.

Your vision went white as you screamed in pleasure. You didn't care about being recorded, or watched. You were in heaven and needed more. Warm fluid ran down your thighs, pussy leaking as you approached climax. You wanted them to do things to you, needed them to do things to you. Bucking blindly, you screamed for them to keep going, to use you.

"Okkkk, subject exhibiting drastically altered behaviour and desires in response to artificial hormone circulation. Compliance is reinforced by pleasure and dopamine. Device will replace dopamine with serotonin and melatonin soon, so I am taking the final sample before subject loses consciousness." A hand grasped your exposed waist, holding you still and sending waves of euphoria through your shaking body. You felt your insides tighten. Keep going so close so close so so so so so so s-

"Beginning vaginal stimulation."

A finger entered your pussy, and ever so gently prodded your clitoris.

With a wild shriek you snapped your head back and came. And came. And kept cumming. It felt like ten orgasms at once, all stacking and intensifying on top of each other. You squirted and squirted and sprayed, soaking your legs and the floor and an indignant Lucinda in your messy cum as you writhed and convulsed in the air. It was better than anything you had ever felt before. You didn't want to stop. You couldn't stop. You... you... couldn't stop...

So tired...

A beep sounded from the device in your collar, and darkness claimed you even as your body continued to twist in climax.

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PART 2: COMING SOONISH TY FOR UR PATIENCE <333

#ally's kinks #I have no idea what to tag this #but I wanted to get it out before I go on holidays for a few days #anyway hope u enjoy my weird experimentation fantasy <3 #and want Lucinda to do things to u #cause I certainly do :3

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