#looking after our body as the home we live most directly in

[simp-ly-writes]

Hope in a Bottle

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Pairing: AU!Silco x Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You had died many years ago, or at least that was true in Silco's world. He had learned to live without you but when graced with the opportunity to see you once again- he can't help but indulge.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, ANGST (but no seriously there are no happily ever afters), some fluff/comforting moments, suggestive themes.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,668

─ · · A/N: I cried like at least four times when writing this, this show HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD.

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Silco often thought about you in passing moments. These moments he remembered sharing with you amongst your friends and in the comfort of your arms used to be coated in blue that he would drown and surround himself in; but as your presence forever lingered in his mind blue turned to pink and rose-tinted glasses glossed over every moment- every memory with a certain degree of fondness that he would catch himself smiling even when no one was in the room.

You would always manage to light up the room, tell him a joke when he needed it most, told him off and raised him up. He put so much of himself into you into your presence that when you left... it was like he had to redefine who he was but forever remained unsuccessful.

Silco learned to live without you physically but that did not mean that your jacket was still not waiting for your return on the back of his couch or your glass still half-filled by the bedside. Your chair at the bar was always kept at the back, awaiting your return as you both shared kisses in the storage room. He would always remember how the stained glasses reflected in your eyes, the colour breaking across your skin in a forever radiant presence just like you.

Vander would catch Silco in these moments when wiping down the bar top or taking a walk down by the Zaun bay, overlooking the artificial lights and hints of sunlight being cast upon the black waters. Watching as the mans hand opened and tensed before falling back down to his side.

"You doing alright there. brother?" Vander asked in a soft tone as they both crossed over to topside for the day. Silco looked up, a strand of his hair falling from his salt and pepper hair- blowing with the wind. "We are always alright in the hope to be better, and when we get better we hope for it to stay only to be alright once again; stuck in the cycle of it all I find myself on the better side today."

Vander hums along to Silco's words as they stop at the various market stalls to see their offerings a few new bottles for the bar from another region across the sea and a bag of sweets for the kids in the area. The men are suddenly greeted with another body stepping in between the two and falling inline with their pace.

"And how are we doin'?" Powder asks with a wide smile, trying to squeeze her arms together to encompass both of their sides before turning around to walk backwards and hold conversation.

Silco winces as Power almost misses lamp post after lamp post by mere millimetres. "We are fine, just about to make our way back home actually. Anywhere your headed, young lady?" Silco teases, his voice sharing sincerity in every syllable.

Powder rolls her eyes before turning back around, head tilting over her shoulder before she disappears back amongst the crowd, "Going to see this new invention Echo has been telling me about!" Vander shakes his head with a loving stare where Powder had just stood.

"She's going to change the world one day, you know?" Vander says to the wind, hoping that it catches her ears but it only does Silcos.

"I'm afraid she already has for she is your own world," Silco comments, placing a hand on his friends shoulder before powering forwards. "I hate it when your always right," Vander teases before taking two long strides to catch back up.

"Well I perfected it only from the best." Both mens minds go directly back to you, smiling and twirling in the bar to a new record you had found on the topside. Somehow you had already known all the lyrics after this being your supposed first time listening to the piece.

"They always knew, huh," Vander says, looking down to catch Silco small smile. "Yes, but not everything I wanted them to..."

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When back in Zaun and at The Last Drop, bar-goers had already flooded the decorated space for tomorrow night it would be the inventions fair, a bar local already chosen to set the mood for the night and a few university members stationed with scholarships in mind.

Both Vander and Silco were excited to witness the extraordinary kids they knew have the opportunity to show their talents to others and hopefully the collective dream of them changing the world would come true but fate always had to make its presence known in the doorway.

Blue sparkled out of the corner of Silco's eye as he leaned against the bar top waiting to continue his conversation with Vander. A half eaten apple sat beside his notebook that he was picking away at while conducting the accounting for the month. His back burned with his age from being hunched over for so long as he stood up to stretch.

Laughs echoed throughout the bar, feet dancing against the wooden plank floors, drinks clashing and spilling against the tables as another gets thrown out the side door. Powder had left a few moments ago with Echo, a certain mischievous look in her eye that Silco did not find unusual at the time would only shock his system now when he caught from reflection in the glass of his amber filled cup.

Your name graced his lips, remembering the feel, imaging your warmth against his skin and to feel it, to see it. He thought to be surreal, to be going senile as he looked to Vander for support and only found him smiling with a wink before turning back around to serve another customer.

Your skin was a thousand colours coming to life in his eyes, his hand drifting from the back of your fingertips, up your arm to your shoulder, neck upon which you shiver and rest your forehead upon his own. "How I've missed you," words that he only hoped to hear, have only read to himself in comfort written by his own hand- a fantasy turned reality now spoken to truth between your very own lips that Silco had to claim.

You melted into his touch, decades without the familiarity- him haunting your body with memory of his touch now appearing as goosebumps in recognition. You smile against his lips, hand running up against the smooth fabric of his vest before lacing in the silver locks of his hair.

Out of breath, you both pant, hands still gripping one another tightly as if afraid the other would disappear once more. "I thought to have lost you, to be so alone for so long. Why is it now that you appear just when I was surviving once again off of scraps?" Silco asks into your ear, not wanting to break this moment between the two of you. Even when in a crowded bar, it is only the two of you present in this moment.

"I would ask myself the same questions when I came back alive thanks to the technology developed in my universe and by what force I have yet to know, I am forever thankful for returning me, my soul, back to you to rest finally," you speak through tears mixing with Silco's silent ones dripping down his cheekbones and falling against your clothes that stain the fabric dark.

"I should thank that force as well," Silco murmurs, lost in your eyes, brushing away your tears. "I think it best we have the rest of this conversation elsewhere," Silco grabs your hand before pulling you out of the bar. The cheers and claps becoming distant as he leads you back to his apartment.

He locks the door behind you both, watching as you gently let go of his hand and walk around his space. Your hand feels the leather of your jacket still sat in the same place where you left it, against the couch in a forgotten moment of need. You continue towards the kitchen, seeing the various crayon pictures of Violet and Powder attached to the fridge who Silco explained to you before walking towards the bedroom. Your glass still waiting for you beside an unopened bottle you remember gifting Silco for his birthday.

"Why did you never open it?" You ask, fingers tracing around the neck of the bottle coated in a layer of dust you blow from your fingertips. "You said not to open it without you there to try it, I kept to my promise in hope for an impossible day like today. It was a reminder of not to drain my hope as many other's do."

All you can do is nod before holding the bottle in between your hands, a sickness suddenly washes over you as you take in Silco's form leaning against the doorframe. His arms crossed, leg tucked over the other and the scar of his yellow eye glowing warmly- lighting up the room amongst the candles.

He expects you to open the bottle, you understand that in doing so means you are to stay but that is something you cannot do. Not when Echo and the Professor are building a time-machine, not when your world is about to erupt in ruins.

You want nothing more to indulge more than you already had into this word of perfection and wrongs written right but that would be a cruelty brought upon this world. You knew you shouldn't have gone up to him, kissed him, felt his skin upon you skin only to take it away like the hopes of everyone else who had died during this war.

But you were only human, your heart already shattered and in need of repair, of warmth and kindness but you would only be selfish just as much as those you were out to strike down. "I-I can't open the bottle Silco. I-" you start to sob, hands shaking before placing the bottle back upon the nightstand.

You bring your knees back up to your chest, breaths heavy as your head spins, blood starting to drip down your nose, the reflection of blue out of the corner of your eyes as you gripping the sheets, knuckles turning white as Silco runs over, falling to his knees as he begs to see your face.

"Please, whatever is the matter, darling?" Silco asks, the sweetness of his tone doing nothing but to further indulge your nausea as you spiral. "I shouldn't have come to you, have done any of this!" You shout, trying to shove the man away but Silco only stands, wrapping his arms around your body as you do your best to kick and shove him away.

You look over his shoulder, watching as the sunsets through the window and sheer blinds. "Silco," you sob, fingers digging into the material of his vest once again in a panic rather than in reverence. "Silco, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that this was not forever, that this will only be another memory and perhaps the once that hurts the most knowing that I left rather than was forced to..."

"Then let me hurt, allow me to bleed, allow me to weep for I have endless time for that but only a finite time to be truly happy. So please, indulge me, drink it all and leave me once more with the knowledge that you are out there somewhere in another place, alive. Please, please," Silco begs turn into whispers as you press your tears into his neck before leaving a lingering kiss.

"Until the sunrise we shall be happy in the night," you speak softly in between kisses, your vision still clouded in tears.

"Until the sunrise," Silco restates before capturing your lips once more and sighing heavily. The moons bask ignites you both, lighting the liquid in your bodies burn as you take pleasure in one another.

You feel him, your hearts and souls connecting, rekindling in what is only to be heartbreak that makes you both press harder into one another. Leave marks across each others skin and kiss them delicately afterwards. It is in you both taking a bath afterwards until the cold waters have you both frozen still in realization as the sun rises and fills the room. Its warmth lost as you pick up your clothes and leave your jacket leaning against the couch once more.

You stare at the empty bottle at the bedside and watch as Silco picks it up and looks at you through it was a wavering smile. "Goodbye, my love and know that it was always you my soul yearns for and you who I define myself as."

"I really wish this didn't have to be the end, Silco...." you try your best not to sob, chocking on your words yet standing firm in your positions knowing that comforting one another would only make the hurt worse than it already was burning. "...in another life, I can see how easily we could have had it all- could have been happy."

"I wouldn't want any other memories than the ones we share," you nod in agreement, your body shakes, skin burns in want as you reach for the cold handle that sends shivers down your spine.

"Goodbye, Silco, I love you, forevermore."

"And I you."

─────── · ·

The walk to Jinx's place is a long and cold one, a thousand pairs of eyes stare at you with their condolences. You refuse to meet any of their stares, knowing that by just one look you would be running back into his arms for comfort.

Echo and Heimerdinger are already there and waiting for you, Echo extends his hand and lifts you up onto the platform. A swirl of arcane magic mixed fits the seeds of that all-too-familiar blue have you floating with a scream as the Professor sacrifices himself with one last salute to you both. Echo holds you, the loss of today holding heavy yet his touch is not what you yearn for as you cry into his jacket, gripping the collar of it as colours swirl around your vision and you are brought back to the battlefield once more.

Bullets wiz past your had, another graces your cheek as your blood falls like tears against the broken pavement. The roar of a monster rumbles the ground as you sprint towards the closing barriers, throwing yourself over them and into a sea of dead blue enforcers.

Screams haunt your ears, echoing distantly through your memories and brought forth into reality as you step over cast aside limbs and guns. You watch as Vi ahed of you holds another as they take their final breaths, a machine gun makes you loose hearing in your left ear and next thing you knew, a burning sensation was coming from your right leg where a ghastly wound had planted itself.

Hoisting and forcing yourself to stand you carry forth with a limp and defend the entrance, holding cover and watching as the trojan horse gets rolled in through the barriers all you can feel is Silco's marks as you charge forwards with an unrelenting cry.

─────── · ·

Silco fell back into the bed and stayed in that exact same numb position until Vander came to find him, "You know, there was a part of me debating weather or not to distract you from 'em and theres a part of me now that regrets not doin' so."

"It wouldn't have mattered anyways, the hurt of not seeing them when I got the chance to would have hurt just as much if not more. But I appreciate the sentiment, brother," Silco responds, rolling the cork of the bottle in between his thumb and finger.

"Finally drank it, huh?" Vander comments, picking up the bottle from the stand as gently as possible between his large hands. All Silco can do is smile, a singular tear dripping down his cheek that gets cast away, "yeah, something like that."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: so... what did y'all think?

[littlemelaninfics]

Ma’am I currently have covid so I’m chillin my room & was wondering if you could possibly take the time out to write some disrespectful dirty af smut for my mans Colby? Like make up sex type shet 🥵🥵😏😏

Thank you boo 💝

(gif not mine)

You tried explaining the whole way home that women gawk at him all the time and that you got used to it, but he's having none of it.

This all started at the award show we went to tonight. One of his fellow creators was making googly eyes at your cleavage the whole night and Colby took notice. What drove it home was when we pulled into the driveway and our neighbor Joseph made a comment about how we both looked nice, me especially.

Colby shook his head with his signature smirk and I knew I would have to be doing some groveling tonight.

Joseph has caused issues with us before as he's in his early 40's, a well respected surgeon with 2 Ph.d's, a Doctorate and easy on the eyes. This causing Colby to feel inferior when a "chode nose having, geriatric, Chris Hansen's most wanted grown ass man with an end of adolescence fetish" shamelessly flirts with you in front of him like he's better than him.

"Sam and I have businesses too."

"I know, baby."

"I'm fucking damn near 20 years younger than him and I'm well respected in my field, I'm with the woman I'm going to spend the rest of my life with, I have the best fucking friends, I've traveled, I've won awards AND I was Joe fucking Rogen's podcast. He is not better than me," he said looking you directly in your eyes.

Once his rant was over, you grabbed the sides of his face as a way to calm him down knowing his anger wasn't directed at you. This was 8 months ago, 3 weeks after you moved in

Tonight he walked through the door with a huff, not bothering to hold it open.

"Um, thanks. Dick." I called out to him when I stopped the door from slamming in my face. I saw him swallow some of what was in his glass before speaking for the first time in a long while,

"You love that shit, don't you?"

I stop in my tracks and turn to face him,

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Them! All of them looking at you. One of which lives right next door. You fuck him yet? Is that why he's trying so hard to be my friend with that condescending, shit eating grin?"

"You're drunk and I'm going to bed. I already said I was sorry for my tits being on full display. What do you want me to do? Get a reduction?"

He brought his glass to his lips once more and raised his eyebrows.

"Fuck. You." I turned back around to stomp up the stairs to decompress. I take off my jewelry and shawl before unzipping the gown I'm in.

I walk in the bathroom and turn on the water. I go under the sink grabbing my favorite body wash and take a much needed shower. When I exit I see Colby undressing at the dresser, facing the mirror.

I know he didn't mean it in the slightest, but I'm still upset about what he suggested about my breast size so I decide to put on a show for someone who enjoys them in all their glory. Still in my towel, I saunter over to my side of the dresser and grab my favorite body lotion.

In that time, I notice Joseph's office light is on and the blinds are cracked. I walk over to our curtains and open them before sitting on the bed.

To anyone else, it looked like I wanted to let the city lights in, but he knew. They both did. Colby eyed me in the mirror before looking out the window.

Without a single word, he drags me along out to our balcony where the cool air heats up. He bends me over the balcony and slaps my ass. Colby pulls down my panties and inserts himself into me.

He grabs my neck and forces me to arch my back as he pounds into me.

"What's my name?"

"Dick."

He grabs my hair, “What’s my name, Y/N?”

“Daddy.” I whimper

“I can’t hear you, princess,” my body shudders and my pussy gets wetter as his grip tightens around my neck.

“Daddy!” I scream out.

“That’s right. Who else makes you feel this good? Hmmm? Tell me.”

I move my arm back to try to slow him down a bit, but he moves it away. I stand up straight and Colby wraps his free arm around my waist pushing his dick further up into me. My eyes roll the back of my head. He moves to my ear and I can hear his heavy breathing,

“Answer me”

“You, Colby! Fuck I’m gonna cum!" My vision starts to go dark and he chuckles,

“No you’re not, Baby. You’re gonna hold it like a good girl.” I whine at his words and dig my nails into his tensed muscular thigh.

He exits me and jacks off, letting my cum drip over off his tip. His head falls back at the sensation before making his next command,

“On the chair ass up” I go over to the chair and place my hands on the arm rests. He smacks my ass and I moan. My legs shake as I bite my lip. I feel Colby enter me again this time a little slower. Making me feel the length of his pulsating cock.

He gives that first good thrust, having my ass bounce back on him which only prompts him to smack it more.

“Daddy that feels so good” I stand on my tippy toes and arch my back further down.

“Bounce on me baby” I begin meeting his thrusts. He slips out of me, but immediately puts it back in getting my closer to my orgasm.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he plays with my clit making me shake.

“Can I please cum daddy please.”

“Hold it” he demands. He pounds harder and my eyesight gets weaker.

“Ugh daddy please” my body rattles and Colby cums balls deep in me. I can’t hold it anymore and I squirt over our feet, inevitably pushing him out. I scream out his name when he flicks his still hard cock over my soaking clit, dragging out the streams of ecstasy. I see Joseph's lights go off, but I don't care. I feel lips press to my shoulder blade with a slight bite and chuckle. Colby knows he won.

“That’s it, baby. I want it all over me," he smirks before sinking to his knees and lapping me up with licks and slurps. He stands back up and spins me around to make me taste myself. To my surprise, he spits the mixture of our cum into my mouth with the darkest eyes I've seen.

My knees go weak and I moan into his mouth. His hand wraps around my throat one more time,

“You’re mine don’t forget that," he says. Leaving me naked and spent out in the crisp Summer night.

a/n: there is a sentence that says Joseph is into women who are at the end of adolescence and and i just wanted to hat it noted that adolescence doesn't end until 24 years old

[rowaelinsdaughter]

thinking about feyre and reader stealing rhys clothes.

smut below the cut, mostly f!oral receiving, squirting (i wasnt planning writing this but i couldnt contain myself)

feyre would love to steal rhys shirt's. she would leave them open while only wearing her underwear when they are at home. rhys would make sure nobody enters, its only the three of them, so feyre uses his shirts as dresses, but she loves them open. maybe sometimes she would wear a top and short bottoms, but most of the time its just only the underwear.

this makes it easier for reader and rhys to leave marks or just eat her out. she would just set aside her panties while rhys is behind her pinching her nipples and kissing her neck. all this while the breakfast is forgotten on the table at their living room.

and for reader, she would love rhys t-shirt's. long dresses that cover her body. she would look tiny in them, and both her mates would mock her about it but they ABSOLUTE love her in his t-shirts. she would woke up earlier than them, leaving them in the bed sleeping after a fun night. she opened the closet and took her favorite t-shirt. a soft lilac one, one she bought him and now his scent was all over it. like every weekend, they were alone at home, nualla and cerridwen resting on their home.

she was making breakfast when she felt a pair of hands on her waist, big hands. rhys. "good morning, sweetheart" his voice was raspy from sleep and by the buldge on his pants and how she could feel it, she knew he was only wearing some pants. she turned around, both her hands found a place on his muscular chest, drawing the ink with her fingertips. he gave her a lazy smile while his hands gripped her waist and lifted her on the kitchen island. "now youre going to be a good girl for me and youre going to let me eat my breakfast" her hands gripped his shoulders when he felt his hands under the t-shirt. a low moan falling from her parted lips. his lips were on her neck, biting and kissing, swapping the intensity, making her dizzy. "fuck doll, i love when youre wearing my clothes"

his hands lifted the t-shirt exposing her dripping cunt. no underwear, like she was expecting this to happen. "youre a little slut, wearing only my t-shirt with no underwear" he bite her bottom lip "i love it" he fell to his knees, kissing her legs all the way up to her cunt, leaving bites and when he licked her, she let a moan. he was devouring her, eating her like it was his breakfast. she was so high from the pleasure she didnt sensed feyre enter the kitchen, but feyre was behind her. her knees on either side of her body while her hands went directly to her breasts. "having fun without me?" she purred to her ear. feyre pinched her nipples through the t-shirt, a louder moan falling from her as her head fell back, resting on feyre's shoulder.

"i wanna cum, i wanna cum please" she said like a mantra. rhys stopped eating her. "you wanna cum, doll?." she nodded and added "please i wanna cum so bad, please, please" rhys caressed her legs and looked at feyre, lust and mischief shinning in his violet eyes. "what do you think feyre darling, we should let our doll cum?" he was still caressing her legs. feyre took her face with a hand, she looked her glossy eyes, her swollen lips and smiled. but she didnt gave rhys an answer, all she did was kiss her. hard and passionate. just as they always did. rhys smiled and went on to devour her.

feyre swallowed her moans and her hands gripped his hair. like an invitation to go faster, rhys started to eat her more vividly. she was at her breaking point, she felt the knot, she needed to cum badly. as rhys inserted three fingers inside her cunt while treating her clit, she felt her orgasm ripping her apart. a wave of pleasure made her back arc on feyre's chest. she didn't know she was shouting, moaning, all she know is she hadn't feel that type of frenzy ever. feyre pulled apart, a trail of spit connected their swollen lips. she was breathing fast and heavy. feyre caressed her cheek "good job doll". she looked down at rhys and saw the mess she had made. she had squirt. something she didn't knew it would happen. "fuck doll, that was hot" he murmured. rhys stood up, a finger under her chin so she could look at him. "ready for round two, doll?"

yeah, they both love to steal rhys clothes.

tags;; @amara-moonlight @throneofsapphics @thehighladywrites @vanserrasswife @loneliestluvr @vanserrasswife

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

[transalphabf]

Post 666

in honour of my 666th post on this blog i think you all deserve some devillish porn

Finding yourself bound to an altar, your legs and arms cuffed in cold iron, splaying your cunt to the cool air of the moonlit night, terror grasped you.

The chanting around you was enough to make you feel fear, but the air seemed to extinguish for a moment, after their voices reached a fever pitch. You realised you were no longer alone in the summoning circle you had awoken in.

Before you stood a monstrous figure. Goat headed, large scaled wings rising behind it, you clamped your mouth shut, not wanting to scream and force its attention on you.

Your head whipped to the side when you heard gurgling noises around you, and the robed figures dropped down one by one, until the only sound that remained was your own breath coming in quick puffs, and the low, heavy breathing of the demon before you.

With a huff, the metal dropped away from your wrists and ankles, and you hesitantly sat up. The creature watched you, scarlet eyes gleaming in the light of the full moon, before offering you a hand.

“Come with me, and you shall wear a crown. Come with me, and be the bearer of my spawn, you shall live a life of luxury, that which you had not imagined.” It- no, he said. You swallowed. “You shall wish for nothing, and I am bound to this mortal plane for as long as you are, so no harm shall fall upon you.”

Your hand shakily reached out, and he took it in his own, warm, large hand. A spike of arousal ran down to your cunt just from that touch.

“We shall consummate here, and then depart for our new home.” He informed you. Your eyes ran down, unsure what awaited you, but his enormous cock throbbed before you, and you had an idea of what it would be.

He knelt down, and a long, dextrous tongue left his snout, toying with your clit, before pressing into your cunt, lapping at your tight hole, pressing deeper, licking places that you could never have imagined being touched by anything but the largest of cocks. You came pretty quickly, shaking, gripping his large curved horns as you felt the tip of his tongue run against your cervix, and press into your g-spot simultaneously.

It was almost too much, so when he lay you back on the cold stone altar, resting his cock over your stomach, so you could see how deeply filled you’d be, your mind was too stricken with lust to realise that it would end up directly in your womb.

But perhaps that’s what his tongue had been preparing you for.

He pressed in, corrupting your formerly pure body with his hellishly hot cock, inch after thick agonising inch searing you from the inside, forcing you to cum just from the flared head bumping against your g-spot on its way to batter your cervix.

When finally the tip pressed insistently on your cervix, you were mewling and making the most unholy noises.

His goatlike nostrils flared, and with a rough, hard thrust, his enormous cock breached your cervix and began fucking your womb right away, his clawed hands gripping your hips, drawing blood a little from how hard he held you.

Not that you minded.

Your mind was filled only with the pleasure, and the idea of him filling your womb with his corrupting seed, becoming his infernal broodmare, giving him a legion of demonic children, being his pleasure toy day and night.

You came again, and again, as he fucked you for what seemed to be hours, and as the sun began to rise, when your womb could take no more and your body on the verge of giving out from pleasure, you felt his cum pour into your womb, his enormous cock pulsing the thick rivulets into your womb, knowing that without a doubt he was impregnating you.

Which just served to make you cum once more.

After that point, you lost consciousness, but awoke in a fine bed, with black silk sheets and a soreness that you couldn’t place.

Was it a dream?

The figure lying beside you was a handsome man, dark hair, a goatee which should have looked out of place, but seemed to suit his slumbering face.

There was no denying it though, this was the more human form of the demon that corrupted you.

With a smirk, you sought to touch his cock, and it began to harden as you lined it up to ride your demonic master.

https://ko-fi.com/sigtryggr if this post made you cum, please consider supporting or tipping me via ko fi

[heartofwolfe]

Whole reason i made a new blog Can i get a word about eurylochus. Im sure other people have said it but if so then ill gladly add on the noise. I dont think hes as hypocritical and bad as some people have made him out to be? And i want to go over his crimes one by one, to bring them to a less exaggerated ground.

"He was going to abandon those men in Circe's island, therefore he had no right rebelling against Odysseus after Scylla."

I need us all to review both situations for a second. With Circe, Eurylochus witnessed what she's capable of, he KNEW Odysseus wouldn't be able to take her. Between losing his captain (and KING) and "cut their losses", it was probably logical for him to leave those men behind in place of losing any more lives or Odysseus himself. Had he known Hermes would show up to help, I'm sure he wouldn't have been so adamant on leaving. He's the voice of the crew, after all.

But Scylla? Odysseus withheld the information of what they were going to encounter in that lair. Odysseus deliberately made him light up torches (one of which would've been for HIM) that would sentence the 6 men that'd carry them. Of course, upon realizing this was his plan, he'd be mad. And we have to realize the rest of the crew are just as sentient as Eurylochus: Seeing their king give up 6 lives like they're nothing for the sake of getting home to his wife... how do they know they won't be next? The 3 men at Circe could've left like Eurylochus did, it was a slip, but Scylla was a choice. (A choice I think was the best outcome! Im not coming for Odysseus here, and I acknowledge and agree it was probably the safest way to get through Scylla. But it doesn't negate the feelings of the crew).

"He opened the wind bag and it got over 500 men killed! With that body count, he was still hypocrital to critisize Odysseus for sacrificing 6 men to Scylla"

I mean, yeah, if we leave it at that. Why don't we ask Poseidon what would've happened to Ithaca if they arrived at the shore instead of being sent to him directly?

Yes, opening the bag is breaking Odysseus' trust. He did wrong at this. But if we are gonna get nitpicky, Odysseus shouldn't have revealed his name to the Cyclops at all— Or just kill him, like Poseidon and Athena told him he should've done. I think they're both at fault for this, and even then, killing his fleet over the entirety of Ithaca is probably the best outcome somehow.

But like, overall, I just don't think we can use the 500 men excuse to throw bricks at this man. No one, not even Odysseus, realized they pissed off Poseidon by hurting Polyphemus and that's where the storm was coming. It's just cruel and it is very obvious it weighted not only on Odysseus but on Eurylochus as well.

"He killed Helios' cow despite Odysseus warning! And then got mad at Odysseus when he didn't sacrifice himself for the crew?"

I feel like he is a little unfair for getting mad at the end, but it is also just very human. We can think of it logically because it is a story we are witnessing, but most if not all of us would've lashed out and felt betrayed if our lives ended because our closest friend (and person that was supposed to look out for us) needed to see their lover.

And the cow... I need you guys to put yourself in his shoes again. Eurylochus didn't believe they'd make it home, he had given up on life, he couldn't trust his brother in arms to bring him home alive anymore. And hunger is so heavy (sorry). Between dying of starvation or drowned by Poseidon, and dying swiftly by divine intervention for pissing off Helios, he probably didn't care (and, like, if he didn't do it someone else in the crew would've. Is the thing.)

I actually think it's such a well done thing, the way he kills the cow because he gave up but deep down doesn't actually want to die— Which is why he gets desperate and seeks for Odysseus' guidance once again when he realizes what he's done. The cow is probably the hardest thing to defend from him, but i think it is so human. And so tragic.

And I need to clarify again— This isn't against Odysseus! I think he makes so many mistakes and is so selfish but also human in a way, I can see where every character is coming from in this musical. And the Odyssey is about a man losing his humanity in a journey back home, so his actions have to be. Bad. But there's a treatment of this characters that ends up coming off as a disservice to each of them. Using Eurylochus as a scapegoat to make Odysseus look better just feels like missing the point of both and their complexities to me. Cause even after defending Eurylochus here, none of these actions are entirely justifiable! He IS hypocritical and selfish as well, and maybe a bit cruel at times. But he's not the root of all evil. If he were, Odysseus wouldn't be the lead.

This post is pretty over the place, so I apologize!it isn't meant to be read as an essay or anything too serious despite the tone that might come off of it. I'm just mostly voicing my thoughts about these characters re: some takes I've seen here and there in other platforms that I can't go too much in detail about. Would love to hear other thoughts, agreeing or disagreeing, although i might not respond too in detail. Also please befriend me i need friends into epic LOL

[pedroshotwifey]

To The Flame chapter 10

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark Javier Peña x Fem!reader

Chapter word count: 2.8k

Chapter tags/warnings: smutty smut smut, piv sex, rough piv sex, doin' it over a musty couch, squirting (dont look at me), angst (teehee), bad dirty talk, wifey's silly lil jokes

Chapter summary: You and Javi make the move to Colombia and get settled in.

A/N: Hi babes!! I hope you enjoy this new chapter! I'm super excited bc it's the last one until we dive into the deep end and get into some scary shit 😈 Next week is already written and loaded up to be posted next Friday. Also let's ignore the way I misspelled "Colombia" in the last chapter bc I'm too lazy to go fix it 🫣

*****

The apartment is even smaller than Javi had described. Even he looks surprised walking in. It’s one of those things that you can tell immediately just by the entrance. It opens up directly to a ‘hall’ that splits into the kitchen and living room, which also appear to be relatively cramped. 

With just a short look, you can already see that there are cobwebs in pretty much every corner and musty rugs draped over most of the floorspace—probably to cover some kind of a stain. The kitchen, which is closest to the hall, has cabinet doors hanging from their hinges, more broken tiles than not, and a boarded up window.

You glance nervously up at Javi, who mutters a curse and sets your carry-on bags down on the hardwood floor. He reaches over to flip the light on, which doesn’t do much but cast a dim glow across the outdated green and orange walls. He huffs out a breath and runs a hand through his hair as you wrap your arms around your torso. 

He chews on his cheek and turns his attention to you.

“Well,” he starts. ”I didn't expect it to be luxury, but…” 

A roach crawls across the floor in front of the two of you, making you both take a step back. 

“Maybe at least uninhabited,” you supply, pulling a surprised laugh from him. 

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

“We’re gonna make it work, baby. I’ll fix it up nice for you.” 

You grin at him, tucking yourself into his side. 

“You can start by getting rid of the bugs. And maybe painting over those ugly orange walls.” 

“Whatever you want, baby,” he laughs. 

He looks up and cranes his neck to see inside the living room. 

“Right after I fuck my wife on our new dusty couch.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s picking you up and carrying you over as you playfully protest. 

“Javi, ew! I’d rather you fuck me on the floor with the roaches,” you giggle. You don’t even want to think about what might have transpired on this couch prior to your arrival. It looks to be at least a good twenty years old. He plops you down on it anyway, a layer of dust jumping up just as you expected it would.

You make a fake gagging noise as he climbs over you, already nuzzling into your throat. 

His hand trails down to cup your cunt, making you moan as he covers your lips with his. His fingers push into the waistband of your pants, then your panties, and then further until the middle one is able to prod at your entrance, already wet with anticipation. You gasp as he sinks it down to the knuckle, gently rubbing your walls as he starts to pump at a slow pace. 

“Oh, that feels good, Javi,” you moan as he starts to lick down your throat to your collarbone. His other hand starts to tug your shirt up, lifting it enough to expose your bra-clad chest. He pulls his hand from your core much too quickly and makes you lift your arms up so he can remove both articles, your pants and underwear close behind. 

Javi growls at the sight of you bared for him. He shucks off his own clothes and settles back on top of you, enveloping your lips once again. You’re reminded of the first time he brought you home, when he had laid you down on his couch and worshiped your body for hours. 

You savor the way his hands roam your body, squeezing and pinching everywhere he can. He eagerly swallows your moan when he grasps your breasts harshly, your back arching in pleasure. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders as he bites your lip, pulling a whine from you now. 

“Oh, you like that, hermosa?” he taunts with a glint in his eye. But you’re too busy panting and feeling to care about his teasing. You just want him to put his damn hand back where he started from. 

“P-Please, Javi,” you beg breathily. He smirks at you and slowly ruts his hips, making you shudder a moan as the underside of his cock rubs against your swollen clit. He repeats the motion at a teasing pace as he lowers his head down to brush a whisper into your ear. 

“Please what?”

Your entire body feels like it was lit on fire, an icy warmth coursing through your veins and settling into your abdomen. You can feel the way your wetness seeps out of you and is picked up by Javi’s cock to lubricate every pass as he grinds against you. 

“Please touch me,” you beg, trying not to let it sound like a whine. Javi just smiles wider and moves his hand to gently caress your face. He presses a gentle, teasing kiss to your lips. 

“Like this?” he asks. You glare at him, biting your lip to hold back the moans that attempt to tumble from you at the next drag of his dick. You grip onto his back and steel your gaze to his. 

“Javier F. Peña. I fucking love you, but if you don’t put your cock inside me right now, I’m going to put rat poison in your dinner.”

You’re honestly surprised you were able to get such a sentence out without stumbling from his distractions. You also have no idea how you’re able to hold your laugh in as it tries to claw its way up. 

You watch as his eyes widen, his brows raising dramatically. A laugh starts to bubble from him as well, and you both lose it. It takes a moment for you both to settle back down from your giggling fit, but when you do, it’s from your asshole husband taking the opportunity to do exactly what you’d requested. 

You yelp his name as he parts you, shoving himself completely inside with one swift thrust and a heavy grunt. Your fingers claw at his back, his skin already slick with a thin sheen of sweat from the heat of the apartment. He immediately lands against that spot deep inside you that makes your jaw drop and your toes curl. 

His head drops as he starts to shallowly thrust, your excessive arousal making the glide smooth and effortless. 

“How do you feel so fucking good every. Damn. Time?” He dramatizes the last words with harsher rolls of his hips, your eyes rolling back as you whimper at the pressure he delivers with each punch.   

His thumb is back on your clit before you realize he was moving his hand, making you clench around him as your body jolts at the sudden pressure. He circles in time with his thrusts, providing you with a heat that licks up your spine and settles low in your belly. 

He starts to move at a faster, rougher pace, and a strange feeling overtakes you. It makes your entire body shake as it consumes you, your blood running hot and your head getting foggy at a rapid pace.

“Javi, p-please,” you beg, though you’re not sure exactly what for. Just that he’ll deliver. He chuckles darkly at you. 

“I know, baby, I know. Let go for me.” 

And you do, you allow the pressure to overflow as you come around his cock, tilting your head back as you moan and your body shudders. The orgasm is blinding, the intensity making your eyes screw shut in pleasure. It feels different from any you’ve had before, somehow much more intense and prolonged. Javi praises you through it, though you can barely hear him. 

“Oh I new you could do it, such a good fucking girl.” 

You’re sweating too as you come down, your body still shuddering with the aftershocks. Everything is blurry when you open your eyes, whether it’s from your rattled brain or the tears lingering in your eyes, you’re not sure. Javi, mercifully has stopped his movements, and is just watching you with awe. 

You grumble at him since your words refuse to work. He’s throbbing inside of you but you can tell he hasn’t come yet. Though it must have been a damn struggle with how much you’d tightened around him.

“Look at the pretty mess you made,” he instructs you with a rasp in his voice as he tilts your head down to where you’re still stretched around him. You obey and look down, only for a gasp to fall from your lips. 

You snap your head back up to look at him upon seeing the soaking wet mess between your thighs. There’s a liquid dripping down both of your thighs—and Javi’s, who watches you with a predatory gaze. 

“Looked fucking perfect squirting on my cock, sweetheart.” 

You give him a sultry smile, still lost in euphoria. Suddenly, he growls and pulls out, dragging you up with him until you’re turned around to face the back of the couch. You clench at the way he manhandles you so you’re flush against it, your arms falling over the edge. He’s never been this rough, and you had no idea how much it would turn you on. 

He thrusts back into you without a word, the both of you groaning in unison. Your cunt aches with overstimulation, but it quickly turns into a soft, building pleasure as he starts at a steady but harsh pace. He grasps your hips roughly as he pummels into you, chasing after his own end now. 

“Take it like such a good girl,” he grits. You just whine as your fingers scramble for purchase on the back of the musty sofa. You can already feel a steady build up between your legs despite your recent orgasm. 

“‘S good, Javi,” you whimper, trying to convey what you’re feeling despite your melting brain. He keeps his thrusts up, punching into your most sensitive spot each time. It’s not long before his panting grows uneven, his weight growing heavier as he pushes you further into the couch. 

“You gonna take my cum, sweetheart? Gonna get full up of me again?” 

You nod eagerly, pushing your ass back as much as you can even with the harsh and rapid slap of his hips against your flesh. 

“Please, please, Javi!” 

He comes inside you with a deep curse, holding you tighter as he slams roughly into you, triggering your second orgasm. He holds you tightly to him as spurt after spurt of his seed paints your walls, each twitch of his cock making you whimper. 

You both stay where you’re at, breathing heavily as you try to get a grasp on reality again. Javi is sticky against you, and you push him off after a moment to get some airflow. He grumbles something behind your back but falls away anyway. 

You collapse against the back of the couch, your head resting on the cushion atop it as Javi rounds it to find the bathroom. You smirk as you watch his pert ass walk away. It only takes a second for him to come back out, carrying a towel he found to clean you up with. He does so, and then grabs soap from your bag for the two of you to shower, where he promises you between kisses that he’ll take you out on a date the first Friday he has off of work. 

****

It wasn’t super hard to get into a new routine. At least in the first few days, when Javi was still at home. The two of you would spend the day making small renovations here and there while trying not to fuck on every surface. Boxes would come in from Texas, and you would unpack those while Javi went out for more supplies. He would come back with meals and little things for you. 

You hadn’t had the chance to explore the city yet, but it didn’t sound like Javi was super fond of that idea. It is a very dangerous part of town after all. He just wants to wait a bit and make sure it’s completely safe for you first. But you were content to stay at home and finish up little projects or stick your nose in a book. Everything was going really great. It only got a little tense once Javi had to start back at work. 

The first day Javi came back from his job, you could tell he had a rough day. You hadn’t even realized he’d entered the apartment until he walked into the living room and scared the shit out of you. He’d either ignored your startled reaction, or had been too tired to notice. You’d simply gotten up to greet him with a hug, and then gone to warm up dinner while he showered. 

You’d eaten in silence after your attempt in asking him how his day had gone. His response was swift and cut you down quickly. You couldn’t really blame him, you’ve heard about how awful his job would be for him to get used to here. So you both ate without speaking, him without really glancing your way. It made your stomach twist in a nagging way, which you wanted to slap yourself for. You know that he wasn’t ignoring you and that you had done nothing wrong, but the insecurity was there in the back of your mind the whole night. 

After dinner, he made slow, silent love to you and fell asleep tangled in your loving embrace. He apologized right before he’d fallen asleep, though you weren’t sure what for. You’d assumed it was for his distance that night, but then the second day was about the same, quiet throughout dinner and until you both went to bed. 

It was the third night that he came home angry. He still didn’t want to talk much, but he did bend you over the dining room table and fuck your brains out almost the second he got home. He praised you this time, letting you know how much you help him after his long days, and that was at least enough to ease some of your worry. 

But his stress didn’t ease at all through the rest of the week. Or the next. You just stayed patient and accommodating, hoping that he would adjust to the new job. But now it’s Friday night on the second week, and you’re watching his golden chest rise and fall after he’d fallen asleep early, after your love-making. Completely having forgotten about your date. 

You’ve been looking forward to it all week, thinking about where he would take you and what you should wear as you fixed things around the house. Went through your dress options as you covered those hideously painted walls in the hall, tried to remember what restaurants the two of you had passed on the way here as you fixed the hinges on the broken kitchen cabinets.

You had everything picked out a couple of days after he’d promised to take you out. Only a few boxes from Texas have arrived so far, so you didn’t have many options, but you settled on a baby pink sundress you know he likes. You even picked out accessories that came in the same box as the dress. 

Though you won’t admit it, you’ve been lonely in the house without him. You’ve powered through because it should only be this month that he’s this busy, but that hasn’t stopped you from feeling a little alone. Hence picking outfits weeks before dates. 

You really wanted to go out and make a friend or two, but Javi said he preferred if you would stay at the apartment just these few weeks so he could scope out the area. You have, because you can’t deny that’s probably smart, but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. This date was going to be your first chance to get out since you moved in. 

You try to ignore the soft ache in your chest. You know he didn’t do it on purpose, and that it’s been a rough couple of weeks for him too, but it still hurts a little bit that he really didn’t remember. It’s half your fault, you suppose, that you didn’t remind him. But you didn’t realize you would have to. 

You sigh and roll over, thinking about what to work on tomorrow. Maybe you’ll get Javi to replace the kitchen tiles if he’s up for it. He’d brought a lot of things to fix up the house that first weekend, but most of the stuff needs to be handled by him. He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself with some of the most strenuous tasks. 

Your eyelids start to drop closed as you hone in on your husband's rhythmic breaths coming from behind you. Maybe, you think right before you fall asleep yourself, you’ll go out on your date tomorrow instead.

***** Oh, what's that? Javi's already turning into a dick? 👀

Hope you enjoyed babes!! I'm beyond excited for y'all to read the next chapter! Series taglist is open as usual if you would like to join <3

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff  @callachloe @missladym1981 @sofiparallel @koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi @justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog @sofiparallel

[cosmerelists]

The Most Annoying Things about Living on Era 1 Scadrial

[Previously: The Most Annoying Things About Living on Roshar]

Once again, this list is focused on things that are just annoying, rather than straight-up unconscionable and/or horrifying--you know, like all of the violence and abuse and slavery. Putting all of the actual bad bad aside, what sorts of things about living in the world of Era 1 Mistborn would just be bothersome?

1. Ash. Ash everywhere.

It would just be so...dirty. Ash on your skin. Ash in your hair. Ash dusting every surface in your home. Ash in your food. You'd just feel so dirty, all of the time. Like, I'm the sort of person who gets frustrated after a few days in a hotel because everything on the bathroom sink is just inevitably kinda damp after a while and there are never enough little towels to dry everything off. Scadrial would be like that, only way, WAY more annoying.

2. ACAB...only with more body horror

Like, yes--Scadrial is a terrifying police state full of cops who can kill you with their mind. But that's over on the "actually horrifying" side of things. For my purposes, there's also the fact that these monstrous officers of the autocracy have, just, spikes sticking straight out of the back of their head through their eyes. I do not like horror. I do not like body horror. I'd be over there trying not to gag just from how gross they looked as they, well, killed all of my loved ones or whatever.

3. No greenery, no flowers

Like, not only is there ash and body horror everywhere, but everything is also just...brown. The plants are brown. There aren't any flowers. I'm with Mare on this one. It was be sad to not see color anywhere.

4. Depression can be outsourced

Emotional allomancy is a pretty anxiety-inducing concept, so far as I'm concerned. It's like the half-joking fear that one day advertisers will find a way to inject ads directly into our brains, only in this case, people really can make you unavoidably depressed or curious or wanting-to-fetch-Breeze-some-wine. I already can't trust my emotions half the time--this would make it so much worse!

5. Mistwraiths are not as cute as racoons

Yes, they may both be scavengers out there doin' their thing and not really hurting anyone, but please mentally compare a fuzzy raccoon with its little raccoon face and little racoon hands and then imagine that it's a mistwraith digging through your garbage instead. I think we can agree on which one would be worse.

6. No stargazing

Oh, you want to go on a romantic or platonic outing to go gaze up at the wondrous night sky? Hell no! The world is crusted in ash and mist and all is darkness. Sorry.

7. People keep dropping coins on your head

Maybe there aren't tons of people who, like me, have a vague fear that someone will drop a coin off a building above you and brain you in the head. But on Scadrial, that is a real concern. There's Mistborn flying all over the damn place flinging money at each other. Some of that is gonna rain down on innocent people below, is all I'm saying.

I don't think Scadrial is for me.

[bluesest]

A Wedding

Damian was a young adult of 27 years old and one of the most important moments of his life had arrived: his wedding with Melissa, she was the same age and they had been in a relationship for at least 9 years. Without any difficulty and with a lot of love in between, they decided to take the next big step in anyone's life, which is to marry the love of their life.

As usual, the night before a wedding a bachelor party is held for both people, in the case of Damian, he along with his friends and his father went to a hot wing restaurant where, in addition to filling up with kilos of wings full of sauce, they also got drunk until dawn enjoying the comforts and activities that Damian had to say goodbye to when he got engaged.

Frank was a 48-year-old man, tall, bearded, with big arms and a brewer's gut, he always has a positive mind and is stern when the moment requires it, he was the one who gave the idea of going to eat hot wings since it is the food that he and his son enjoyed throughout their lives and it would be a great tribute to the maturity of his son who eventually became a man.

At 2:00 AM they arrived home, both dizzy and tired, Frank wanted to stay a while longer at the party, but Damian refused, after all he had to wake up early tomorrow so that everything would be perfect.

Frank fell directly to the sofa, his body was already weak due to his age, while Damian was walking directly to the guest room, a couple of years ago he stopped living with his parents and moved in with his partner.

Before reaching the room, a strange sound invaded the small room: *GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*, it was Damian's annoying stomach, so many wings and beer didn't sit very well with him, he turned around to check if his father was still awake, and apparently not, he closed his eyes and... *PPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT* *PRRRRRRRRRRRR*

He gave a groan of satisfaction and a hoarse voice interrupted him: "That was a good one," it was his father who was laughing with the little strength he had left.

Damian: "Dad!"

Frank: "What's the problem?"

Damian: "It's just that..."

Frank: "Don't be embarrassed about that son, my daughter-in-law must get used to the smell of a real man like me" *PFFFFFFTTTTTT*

Damian: "Whatever... *GRRRRRRR* I hope I don't have problems with this tomorrow..."

The Next Morning:

*RIIIIIIINGGGGG* *RIIIIIIINGGGGG*

Damian woke up to the noise of the alarm, with his eyes half-closed he saw what his downfall was: "It's the... 1:00 PM!?", our fiancé set the wrong alarm, apparently, getting drunk a day before your wedding was not a good idea.

He jumped out of bed and suddenly his stomach took a hard hit: *GRRRRRRRRRRRRR*, he lowered his head a little, held his stomach with his right hand and expelled a rotten fart: *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *TRTRTRTRTRTR*

There was hell inside Damian's intestine, but without much time to think about it he took off his clothes and started running naked around the house looking for his tuxedo. While all this was going on, Damián found his father still asleep on the sofa, alarmed and knowing his father he began to shake him again and again until the forty-year-old woke up from his long sleep.

Frank: "What *YAWN* happens?"

Damian: "IT'S GETTING LATE! THERE ARE 2 HOURS LEFT AND WE ARE NOT READY!"

Frank: "WE FELL ASLEEP!?"

Like his son, Frank got up and started running to his room shared with his spouse, who apparently had already left for the event without even telling her spouse or son.

As Frank ran, a flurry of farts came out of his big ass: *PFFFFFFTTTTTTT* *PPPPPPPPFFFFTTTTTTTT* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

He stopped for a few moments and held his stomach with both hands, turned to his son and said: "Do you think there is time to go to the bathroom?" to which he replied: "What part of the fact that there is no time you didn't understand!?", resigned, he continued with the search for his elegant clothes.

Almost an hour had passed and our boys were already ready to arrive at the wedding, Frank offered to drive to prevent his son from getting more stressed than he already was, he tried to talk to him, but he was curt, but the reason for this was not because he was angry, but because of a growing pain in his stomach.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Frank: "Are you okay son?"

Damian: "My stomach hurts a little..."

Frank: "If you want, we can stop in the bathroom of a gas station"

Damian: "Don't worry, I'm fine"

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Another fart was approaching, but he didn't want to fart in front of his father, he tried to lower the window without success.

Frank: "Don't even try, the windows have not worked for a week now"

Damian: "But I'm hot! ughhh"

*GRRRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT*

The silence was destroyed by an accidental thunderous fart by Damian, he was embarrassed but his father began to laugh.

Damian: "Shut up..."

Frank: "HAHAHAHA that's why you wanted to lower the window, right?"

Damian: "..."

Frank: "Oh come on, admit it was fun"

Damian: "... Well yes, it was fun I guess haha"

Frank: "It's good that we have the same problem...*PRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PFTTFTTFTFFFFFFFFFF*"

Damian hit his father while they were both laughing, what was previously an awkward situation, became another father and son experience.

Damian: "This car has a hellish smell HAHAHAHA"

Frank: "Of course he does! The smell is something characteristic of the Johnsons"

Damian: "It reminds me of the time I was farting all day while I was out with my friends, they always complained and I just laughed HAHAHAHAHA"

Frank: "See? It wasn't so bad, son."

Damian: "Although I feel that something else wants to come out..."

Frank: "Same thing, I think so much junk food hurt us both... Do you want me to stop and let's find a bathroom?"

Damian: "Of course not! We are already late"

Frank: "But-"

Damian: "In addition, where the wedding will take place there is a public bathroom, we can go there when all this is over"

After 30 minutes of farting in the car, they finally arrived at the wedding just 30 minutes before it started, Damian went to prepare to receive his future spouse while his father is scolded by his.

Damian went to a small room where his friends were waiting for him to greet him and give him support in this important moment, he was in front of a mirror trying to fix the ruined tie that he untied on the trip.

That's when he saw his own pale face and with small drops of sweat a sign of his discomfort, he thought: "Maybe going to the bathroom is a good idea..." He approached the door of the small bathroom that was in that room when one of his friends stopped him.

Damian feigning nonchalance asked if something was wrong, to which his friend replied: "Hey! there are only 10 minutes left, you must wait for your wife at the altar", Damian turned to his watch and indeed it was not a joke in bad taste, he returned to the mirror, fixed his hairstyle and went straight to the altar.

Meanwhile, his father didn't seem to enjoy the wait, inside his stomach there was a raging storm of gases and lava wanting to come out, he thought: "I don't think Damian will be upset if I miss the first minutes of his wedding..." he got up from his seat when his spouse and Damian's mother held his arm saying not to be rude and that he shouldn't get up from his seat at a time like that.

Frank: "Honey, I know this is important, but I need to go to the bathroom right now."

Again his request was denied and he was forced to wait until the bride and groom's kiss to be able to get up.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

A thunderous stomach roar made Frank lose his patience, he crossed his legs tightly to prevent the smell he was about to release from spreading among the guests.

*PFFFFTTTT* *SQSHHHH*

It was a bad idea... Frank felt how that terrible fart turned into liquid, the lava began to stain his buttocks and his special cloth pants, he couldn't take it anymore, he decided to get up, but...

Finally, the wedding had begun, Damian was standing at the altar watching as the love of his life with a wide smile went towards him to be together, these thoughts are increasingly interrupted by the terrible stomach pain and the gurgling that did not leave him in peace since the morning.

Finally she arrived and the priest began the wedding.

As the priest spoke, Frank searched for a solution to his problem, "How the was I going to go to the bathroom now? Where was I going to get extra inner break?", the smell was becoming more and more noticeable and reached his nose, "Ufff, I really have to go to the bathroom to release this shit"

He discreetly began to fan his butt to prevent the smell from concentrating while applying pressure to the chair in order to prevent the smell from leaving his butt with the price to pay that it muddied his buttocks and pants more.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

His stomach asked to release pressure again, in fear he let out another fart carefully: *PFFFFFTTTTTT*

It was a short one for what Frank was used to, but he couldn't afford to have his pants turned into an adult diaper completely filled with sulfuric acid.

His son was not doing any better, as soon as the priest was halfway through his speech, he was sweating more and more and unlike his father he could not even release a fart since the smell would be noticed immediately, so every time someone tried to leave he squeezed his buttocks and forced the putrid air to return through the large intestine, a practice that would become expensive later.

Priest: "They can say their wedding vows"

There was some good and something bad, the good thing is that it meant that the main event was close to ending, the bad thing was that his voice was shaky from the efforts he was making not to his pants, like the future spouse, he had to start first.

His vow was not really long, he managed to materialize his feelings in words being part of a long relationship, he made a great effort to stop stuttering and sweating, but they were simply in vain.

After an embarrassing moment and a confused look from his spouse, it was her turn to say her vows, and although it was inopportune to think about it, he just wanted it to be over soon and for his spouse not to talk too much.

After another 10 agonizing minutes, the priest finally said the magic words: "He can kiss the bride."

Damian could not believe that just at the most important moment of his life he had an attack of diarrhea, but simply this cruel moment of life would come to an end when the lips of the bride and groom finally crossed.

It was a beautiful moment for both of them and caused Damian to forget for a few seconds the fact that he had to shit, but it was that calm that caused another stomach attack:

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Both moved their heads aside while the audience applauded, the party would continue for a couple of more hours, so before receiving the congratulations of the guests, he excused himself to his now spouse and surreptitiously moved through the audience to reach the bathroom being interrupted several times by his relatives.

Frank saw his son noticeably nervous and uncomfortable trying to make his way through the audience, he got up from his seat with the excuse that he was going to congratulate his son.

When he got up from his seat he felt like a small avalanche of thick shit slipped from his butt and was slowly heading to his legs, Frank had to be fast with his movement since in a few minutes his shit would reach his legs staining his pants until it reached his beautiful black shoes, he just couldn't afford it.

He jogged to pretend that he was not running, he saw his son in the distance entering the bathroom not at all far from the wedding, he was even more alarmed when small wet farts came out of his butt like gusts *PRRR* *PRRR* *PRRR* *PRRR* *PRRR*, apparently the exercise relaxed his stomach even more.

He arrived at the bathroom in time to see how his son was on a loose leash about to enter the last cubicle, father and son exchanged looks a little embarrassed...

*PFFFFFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT*

A violent fart came out of Damian's butt reminding him that he came to the bathroom for a reason, he held his stomach, forcefully opened the cubicle door and closed it, Frank did the same in a slightly calmer way even though he could feel how his shit was reaching his knee.

Both butts touched the porcelain at the same time, but there were no farts in between, Damian despite having passed with his father farting in the car was quite embarrassed, he wanted his father to get out of there.

*PFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT* *PRRRRR* *SQHQSHQSSQHHHHHHHSHSHHH*

Frank began by expelling what fucked him up throughout the day, a gurgling sound could be heard throughout the bathroom while he continued to shit.

*QSHQSHQSHSQHSSSQHSSSQHHHSHS* *PFFFTFTFTTF* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRRRRR* *SHQHSQHHSQSHQQSHQSHSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQ* *PFFFTTT*

"Ahhh finally..." Frank was able to catch his breath and refresh his mind, although there was still cargo to be dropped... *GRRRRRRRRRR* another gurgle appeared from the neighboring cubicle, Frank could remember that he was not alone.

Damian is writhing in pain, in that position his stomach was more relaxed and therefore more sore and tired from the effort it is taking him to keep all the shit in place until his father leaves the place.

"Why is this happening to me?" he said to himself, for him it was unfair, he had a whole life to spend an embarrassing moment like this, but it should just be at his wedding with his father.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Frank: "Is everything fine in there?"

Damian: "Yes dad..."

*SHHHHHHHHHH* *PRRRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFTTFTFTF* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR* *PSSSSHHHHHRRRTRTRTRTRTRT* *SQHSSHSQQQPR*

Frank: "ughh how good it feels to release everything..."

*GRRRRRRRRRRR*

Frank: "Son, it's obvious that you need to free yourself too, why don't you?"

Damian: "And that's what I do!" *GRRRRRRR*

Frank: "I was expecting something louder than those gurgling sounds you have..."

Damian: "Just not..."

Frank: "oh come on, we've spent a lot of time together, it's a natural thing"

Damian: "I..."

Frank: "Everybody's waiting for us out there, and I wouldn't want them to come in here..."

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Damian: "ugghhhhhh"

*GRRRRRRR* *PFFFFTTTTT* *SQGSQGSSHHHH*

Frank: "Well done, let me teach you"

*PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *QHSHQSHSQHQSSSHHHHHHHHH* *TRRTRTRTR* *TRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PFTFTFTFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT* *PLOP*

Damian: "Hahahahaha oh come on"

*PRRRR* *HQSHQSHQSHSHQSHQSHSQSHSQHQSQHQS* *BLLLRRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTT* *TRTRTRTRTR* *SSSSSHHHHHHHHHH*

Frank: "I feel like the wings are forcing me to open my butt even wider"

*SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHH* *PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *PFFFFFTTTTTTT* *TRUM* *CRUSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH* *PFFFFTTTTT*

Damian: "Those beers are charging me very dearly"

*PFFFFFTTTTT* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP* *TTTTRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *SQHSQHSHSQSHHHHHHHHH* *FFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT*

Frank: "And with taxes"

*PLOP* *SQSHHHHHHHHSQHHHHHHHHSHHHHHQQQHSHSSH* *TRTRTRTRTPRRRRRRRRR* *SSSSSSSSSSSRRRRRRR* *TRRRRRRRRUMMMMTRRRRRUUMMMM* *PLOP*

Damian: "hahahaha I think I'm done"

Frank: "Not me yet, I shit on my underpants and in this cubicle there isn't even toilet paper"

Damian: "Take this roll dad, clean yourself first"

Frank: "But you must get out of here, everyone out there is waiting for you."

Damian: "I don't want to celebrate my wedding without my father present"

[wyniepooh]

Restrain

You never thought you would get arrested, especially not for murder, especially not by aaron hotchner. And you most definitely never thought you’d enjoy it.

Reader is a suspect?? But reader is very much innocent ty. Hotch is arresting reader but unexpected feelings arise. Suspect!reader x bau!hotch. Flirty!reader. Maybe love at first sight if u look hard enough??? Hotch is interested but very conflicted. Mentions of alcohol and drunk driving, BUT reader did not drive under the influence of any kind. I truly do not know how an arrest would go down so this whole situation is wildly inaccurate.

If someone had told you at the start of the night that by the end of it, you would be arrested and suspected of committing a murder, you would’ve laughed in their face.

But thinking about it now, you wished that someone had been there to warn you about the sudden turn of events. What was supposed to be a fun girl’s night out quickly turned as sour as the drink you had previously ordered at the bar, when the night was still quite young and full of possibilities.

After bidding goodbye to your friends, you had hopped into your car and was on your way home to your soft bed, a pint of ice cream, and your favourite tv show when you first noticed the flashing nights. You weren’t too bothered at first— the road you were taking led directly to the most popular bars and nightclubs in your city, so it wasn’t strange that police cars often lined up on the side of the road late at night, hoping to catch the reckless driving that would no doubt ensue after a couple rounds on a Friday night.

What was strange however, was that the flashing lights were seemingly following you. Wild as you can be, you didn’t play with yours, or others lives like that. You were sure the mocktails you ordered were indeed ‘mock’, and you knew your driving was in no way a reflection of your state of body and mind because the only alcohol you could’ve possibly consumed were the fumes you breathed in from the drinks of your friends.

Pulling over, you rolled your windows down with an exasperated sigh. As the cold wind rushed in and hit your face, you were reminded of your now ruined plans. So much for ice cream. You waited for the vested officer to lean down before you spoke.

“How may I help you, off-,” you started.

“Out of the vehicle, now!”

Whatever calmness and willingness to cooperate flew out the open window the second the man began to yell. Taking note of his demeanour and the three bright, white letters on his navy vest, a hole immediately dig itself in your stomach.

“Offi- i mean, agent. I really don’t feel comfortable getting out of my car until I’m told the reason I’m being stalked by the fbi.”

The wall man stretched to his full height, crossing his arms as the rest of his team gathered around the scene. “This is a matter regarding a coworker of yours. We have reason to believe you were involved in his demise, the arrest warrant is in our vehicle. If you don’t wish to cooperate, we have the right to use force against you.”

You scoffed as you soaked in the absurdity of his words. “A- a warrant? For what? For murder? If that’s really the case and you have a warrant, I would like to see it, please”

There was a brief pause as the man made eye contact with a female agent, communicating without speaking a word. You almost got to breathe a breath of relief when the man turned and began to walk back to his car, but his abrupt stop in his steps lodged a pocket of air in your throat.

“That’s enough.”

Before you could stop him, the door flew open and he leaned across your waist to unclip your seatbelt. Your panic combined with fear didn’t allow you to think of it much, but in that moment, you couldn’t help the untimely thoughts plaguing your mind.

You couldn’t help that he smelt of mint and pine and whatever was making your stomach flutter.

Thankfully, those bubbles of intrigue popped when the agent grabbed your arm and began dragging you out of the car. The anxious enjoyment turned to just plain anxiousness, and timely thoughts of a murder, an interrogation, and jail filled your head. Once he closed the door, he pushed your bare chest against the cold metal, twisting your arms behind your back rather harshly.

You hissed at the burning pain, turning your head the best you could to glance at his face. “Easy, baby,” you snickered.

He didn’t look back at you, focusing instead on fastening the cuffs around your wrists. “It’s agent hotchner. And you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Trust me, It’ll make your life a lot easier if you cooperated. Anything you say and do can and will be…”

Maybe there really was something in those mocktails. Maybe it was how tired and and exhausted you were. It was probably because the hard, metal handcuffs were digging into your skin and the fact that your low top and short skirt provided no coverage or warmth in the chilly night. But most of all, it was probably because of the way agent hotchner was rubbing against your back.

Regardless of why or how or what, you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“I’ve never been known as one to cooperate, sir,” you whispered. Arching your back lightly to raise yourself off the side of the car, your backside rubbing into him as you spread your feet ever so slightly, you nudged your nose against the crook of his neck to savour the stubbled skin and his smell. Your already short skirt was riding up your thighs, and you knew, you knew he felt your soft skin, you knew he saw what was underneath the small piece of fabric, and you knew he didn’t want you to stop.

But he put on a good act, despite his rosy cheeks and hitched breathing. After a beat, he crashed your torso back against the car door, tightening the cuffs to the fullest, leaning down to your ear. You groaned again at the bruise you could already feel forming, but still, you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face.

“It’s hotchner— agent hotchner. And i have ways to handle you. Ways to subdue you. Ways to break you and make you do exactly as I say. So get it together, and follow my orders. ”

Shivers traveled down your spine from his deep voice and the warm breath brushing against your ear. You stayed silent this time, choosing instead to plop your head down and let him guide you to the back of a police vehicle.

As you bent your knees to get in, you felt his hand on the top of your head, leading your body to a sitting position. Once sat, you tilted your head, causing his hand to fall from your hair to your cheek, and you smirked at the way he flinched and pulled back.

Because you were miserably restrained, he had to pull the seatbelt over your body for you, the upper half of his form leaning over you as he clipped the contraption into the cavity. You both felt the belt spring into place, you both heard the subtle ‘click’ of the seatbelt, and yet neither of you moved. He turned his head back gently, but he refused to look at you. He simply looked over his shoulder at nothing, even as you bore your eyes into him. Your breathing became faster the longer he stayed, the longer you felt his presence and the longer his scent filled the small space.

His hands rested to the right of your bare legs, and you didn’t miss the way they seemed to clench and squeeze at the seat beneath them. He moved them slowly, and just for a brief moment, his finger grazed your thighs. Just when he shifted his eyes to look at you and his lips parted for words to spill, a voice called out to him.

“hotch! We gotta go.”

He stole one more glance at you before retreating from the car, standing straight and slamming the door shut. He looked down at you. An intangible look swirled in his eyes. Perhaps one of restrain, made up by the many factors that made him who he was. He dropped his head for a minute, as if savouring the moment and the decision he made right in that moment. Looking back at you one last time, a tiny smile rested on his lips.

“Sit still. Behave.”

You felt the heat unfurling on your cheeks as you looked him up and down. Finally, your eyes met his through your eyelashes, the same tiny smile controlling your lips.

“Yes, agent hotchner.”

-

A/n: the things I’d do to get arrested by hotch…

[ikanasocking]

Fix what is bothering you

Liam and Kyle were living together in a small flat. Four rooms. Either of these boys had his own, a kitchen, a bathroom and a small space they had to share together. Even while living together both guys rarely had anything in common or spend much time together.

Kyle was obsessed with cars and football. His dream was to become a professional player in an international club and being known all over the world. So he trained for it. Six times the week. Good for him was, that his parents were paying for everything. And not to mention, they could pay for everything he wanted. Never the less, Kyle was not able to get his body in the shape he wanted it. No matter how much he trained, his body would not pack on muscles. So Kyle looked very thin. His black hair were short. His face was kind of long and his eyes were brown.

Liam on the other hand did not care about sports or cars. Liam did not work out much but still, his body showed some definition. Liam was an average height, blonde hair, green eyes. The most day he spend outside of the flat to get away from his roommate. He owned the flat but was forced to take someone like Kyle, so he could pay for his live. Still in university he had a lot of bills to pay. That was the reason Liam was more in the library than at home. The other reason was, that Kyle always had friends over.

And this was the only thing both guys had in common. A few of their friends. The friends in question were, Lars, Martin and Nils. Martin and Nils were more friends with Kyle and used Liam more as an easy to manipulate friend that would do stuff for them. Lars on the other hand was more friends with Liam. Liam might be introverted and did rarely speak up to someone, he did with Lars. And Lars understood how he felt. So he supported him, the best was he could. Even when the others were talking bad behind Liam’s back, he would even stand up for his friend. But he would never said that directly to his face. He did not want him to know that the other were talking about him.

Weeks went by and the trash talk about Liam began to stack up, because he was gone from the flat even more than usual. Kyle, Martin, Nils and Lars were sitting together in Kyle’s room. Martin and Nils were muscular guys. But also pretty smart, what you would not believe on first sight. They were interested in cars and football as well. Lars was a pudgier guy who was not into cars, but shared a passion for football. The only one in the group that as actively playing. And that not on a gaming console.

“I swear, Liam is not even keeping up with his chores. He leaves me to do all the work”, Kyle said after they finished another game on the console.

“Seriously? He should be doing all your chores as well. This looser is not even a real man”, Nils said.

“What do you mean by that?” Lars asked.

“You did not pick up on the signs? He is checking us out every time he sees us. Bet he is mostly not here because he always gets hard when he sees one of us”, Nils laughed.

“I don’t think he is gay”, Lars said and sipped on a glass of water.

“Oh he is absolutely a faggot. One that wants to be dominated by real men, like us”, Martin laughed as well.

“Well I guess you are interpreting, too much into this. He is in the library and learns for his exam. And he is not here because it is too noise to concentrate.”

“Yeah sure. I am living with him and I thin Martin and Nils are right. He is a faggot. Pick up the signs. He is not interested in cars or football. Which straight guy is not interested in one of those things?”

“A lot? I cannot follow those arguments. Isn’t Liam your friend?” Lars asked.

“Our friend? Oh please. I am just living with him because it is cheap.”

“We keep him around because he always jumps when we ask for something. He is not really a friend. More a way to get stuff for free”, Martin said.

“I cannot believe it. You are just abusing the poor guy?”

“Sure. He is letting us using him. It is his fault that he is not standing up to us like a man”, Nils said.

Lars stood up and looked at the others.

“I cannot believe you are treating a guy like him so disrespectful. He is a caring person who just wants to make a living. Guess I was wrong thinking you would care for anything else then yourself.”

With that Lars left the group, without having a look back. After he left the room all three boys looked at each other and began to laugh.

“Never thought Lars would be as gay as Liam. Bet he will run right to his boyfriend, crying about how mean we were”, Kyle said.

“Yeah. Bet they would make a great couple.”

With that they continued talking shit about Liam and now Lars as well, while playing football on the console.

What they did not account for, what the open window, so Lars heard everything they said about him as well. And he would not stand for this. These guys would need to learn some respect. So he went to the library, where Liam would normally be. He found him. His head resting on the desk between bunches of books.

“Poor guy. Must have gotten not much sleep lately”, he thought and went over to him.

Carefully he put his hand on his shoulder and Liam sat upright immediately.

“Sorry I will put the books back, this instant”, he said.

“It’s okay. It’s just me”, Lars said and Liam looked at him.

His eyes were red from the sleep and it looked like he had cried recently.

“Oh, what are you doing here? Aren’t you with the others?” Liam asked while gathering the books.

“Well not anymore. I was worried about you. They were talking about some concerning stuff?” Lars said.

“Like how they think I am gay?”

“How do you?”

“Sometimes I was outside of the flat waiting for you all to leave before entering. Are you here to make fun of me right here?”

“Actually I was not making fun of you in the first place.”

“Okay. So you are just here to tell me, these guys are taking advantage of me?”

“You should calm down, Liam. I am neither here to make fun of you nor to tell you the shit they are talking about you. You seem stressed. Why not come with me, to my place and let us talk there.” Liam offered him with a smile.

“If you insist. I have no fight left in me to discuss about this” Liam said.

With that they put the books away and went to Lars house. He was still living with his parents. He was still in an apprenticeship and money was an issue for him as well. So he saved some from living with his parents and his brother. When they arrived at his home it was already evening. Lars led his friend to his room, informed his parents about the guest and sat with his friend there.

“So, Lars. Why bothering with all of this?”

“Because I care about you.”

“Yeah but your friends will not be thrilled seeing you with a faggot like me”, Liam said.

“How much do you know about what they said?”

“Enough. I know how they think about me and that they are only taking advantage of me.”

“And you did not try to change it?”

“How? I need the rent from Kyle. I cannot get rid of him. And when I am getting on the bad site of Nils and Martin, they will make Kyle harass me even more. You know how tiering it is to live with a guy who thinks I am his house bitch? Only there to clean for him and do all the work he does not want to do? I gave up fighting a few months after he moved in with me.”

“But why did you not tell me? I thought we were friends”, Lars said.

“Because I thought you think like the others.”

“You did not hear how I stood up for you every time they talked bad about you?”

“Once I heard you saying something. But they all just laughed and turned on you. So I began to isolated myself, to not get you in more trouble then you already were.”

Lars just blinked at Liam. He could not believe that this guy was going to such extends for him.

“But”, he began, when he noticed the tears in Liam’s eyes.

“I need a moment”, Liam said and Lars stood up.

“Sure. If you want, you can stay for the night. I don’t mind. We can talk later, if you want.”

With that he left the room. After the door was closed he sighed heavily. He could hear Liam cry, but had no idea how to comfort him.

“Troubles in paradise, brother?” Liam’s brother asked and came out of his room.

“What would you know?” he said and looked at him.

“Oh calm down, Liam. It was just a joke.”

“Sorry I am a little bit tense, right now.”

“Might have something to do with the cutie crying in your room?”

“I am not in the mood for your jokes, brother”, he said approaching his younger brother.

He was a little bit more on the pudgier site as well. Lars and he shared a lot of his looks.

“Oh man, you are tense today. Want to talk about it? I am sure you will feel better after it. You could also go to mum for a talk, but I guess better stick with me”, he laughed and Lars entered his brother’s room.

The room was slightly messy with stuff laying around everywhere. Lars and his brother sat down on the bed and Lars brought him up to speed with all that happened.

“And you are sure you have no feelings for this guy?” His brother asked after he was done explaining.

“Man again with the”, he began.

“I mean yeah you are straight. Sure. Straight as a circle brother. Maybe out parents are not seeing it. But I know what you are looking at online. And some of your teammates told me some stories. Maybe it is time to be true to yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a delicate taste in man and some, I would call it, interesting fetish. Most of it contains men. So I ask myself, do you care about Liam because he is a friend, or is he your friend?”

Lars said nothing and just looked at the floor.

“I mean hey, it is okay to play something for your friends, your parents or me. But at least be true to yourself. With your other little problem, I might have a solution for this.”

“You have?”

“Do you think you are the only kinky one in this family? A friend send me something. A website that is supposed to grant wishes. Might be worth a shot. I have not tried it.”

“That sounds like complete scam and a reason to get a virus on your pc.”

“Maybe it is maybe not. Well it will not download something, so no virus. But even if it is not working, maybe it will give you and Liam some comfort. A wish can sometimes change a lot of things.”

“Well send it over. I will see if it helps.”

“Always happy to help you, brother. I guess your guy calmed down by now. So you might want to make him cry again.”

“Har Har.”

With that Lars brother send him the link to the website. Lars went over to his room and opened the door silently. Liam was lying on his bed sleeping. Lars decided to let him sleep. He took a blanket and tugged Liam in. He took of his socks and went to his pc. He powered him up and opend the link, his brother send him. A small textbox appeared and the text.

“Type in your wish and we will make it come true.”

He began typing.

“I wish for Liam to be happy and find someone he deserves.”

He pressed enter and the site loaded.

“Wish granted”, was all he received.

He turned around to Liam and looked at him. If he was brutally honest, he looked kind of cute. His penis began to pulsate and pressed against his shorts. Lars was disgusted with himself. There was his friend who was having a hard time and he could not even help him, but got a hard on by just watching him sleep. If he was honest to himself, yes he was kind of gay. He liked Liam a lot. But he would never tell him. Liam deserved someone who would really appreciate him. And who knew if he even was gay? Lars continued staring at his friend before going to bed as well. They slept in the same bed all night.

The next morning Lars woke up to find Liam was not lying next to him. Confused he looked around and found his friend at his computer. Typing in a wish to the wish granting website. Crap he forgot to close it yesterday and shut his pc down. Liam was done and pressed the enter button. The same thing as with Lars happened and the wish was somehow granted. Liam turned around to find Lars now sitting upright in the bed.

“Morning”, he said and Lars nodded.

“I am sorry for what happened yesterday”, Lars said.

“Don’t be. At least you showed me you care. And creating a website to make a wish was a sweet move of you. Thank you.”

Liam said and came back to the bed. He put back his socks on and sat down then.

“I guess I should go home now. Your parents might not be happy seeing you with another boy in a bed”, Liam said and wanted to go, when Lars took his arm and pulled him back. Liam was surprised, tumbled back, before falling on the bed. The lips of the boys met each other, after Liam fell down. A short and unwanted kiss was the result.

Surprised both boys moved their hats back.

“I am sorry, I did not mean to”, Lars began and looked at Liam.

He did not say anything. He was still processing what had happened right there. But after a short time Liam made a move and kissed Lars again. This time not by accident. Lars was completely surprised by this. But he did not fight it. It felt way too good. His penis got hard again. When their lips parted Liam looked at his friend with a sad expression.

“I am sorry, Lars. I did not know what’s gotten into me. Please forget what happened. It will not happen again”, Liam said and wanted to go again.

Tears filling his eyes again. Lars still got his arm, so Liam could not get away. Instead of pulling him back, Lars just got up and then approached Liam.

“Why would you say that? Did you not enjoy it?” Lars asked and moved his hand to Liam’s crotch.

He could feel, that the boy was hard.

“I did, but you and I”, Liam tried to put a sentence together but his emotions were too much.

“Let me tell you something, Liam. I was in the closet for so long. I guess it is time to come out. I enjoyed your company all the years. Not only as a friend. I was fantasising about more with you. Liam, I am in love with you”, he said and Liam looked shocked at him.

“But, your family, your friends”, Liam began.

“If they are not accepting it, they are neither my family nor my friends. I have not been there the last years for you. But now I want to be there for you. Maybe even for the rest of our live.”

Liam said nothing. He just snuggled up to Lars’s shoulder and started to cry again. Lars just hugged him, hoping to comfort his friend this way. It worked and Liam calmed down after some time.

“What do you say? We forget about the others and start a new live?”

“But Kyle still lives with me”, Liam said.

“And I don’t think I will get him out of the flat, anytime soon.”

“Then move in with me.”

“Here? I don’t think this will work out.”

“Well let’s start with a few days. I guess you need some peace and quiet and sleep. Let’s grab some things and you stay here for a few days. What do you say?”

Liam did not want to say anything and just nodded. So both boys went over to Liam’s flat. Only to find it trashed. Stuff was lying around everywhere. And Kyle was in the little space they shared. He seemed to be sleeping. The aroma of alcohol was in the air.

“What a pig”, Lars thought.

Liam did not say anything. He went straight to his room and began gathering some stuff. Meanwhile Lars was waiting for him to finish. Just as Liam was done gathering his stuff, Kyle woke up.

“Hey, what? A good you are back”, he said in a still drunken voice.

“You should get this shit cleaned up as soon as”, Kyles began.

Lars wanted to step in immidiatly, but Liam was faster.

“No. You made the mess, you clean it up.”

“What? How dare you talking to me like”, he began.

“I talk to you however I want. You are nothing more than a dirty pig that is a sucker for my and Lars socks”, Liam said.

Lars was confused why his friend should say something like this.

“You little. I should punch some sense in you. I will show you what kind of sucker I am for”, Kyle said and approached Liam.

Lars wanted to rush over, but Kyle was still so drunk that he fell to the floor directly in front of Liam’s feet.

“So good”, he moaned and began to sniff the feet of Liam.

“That’s what I thought. Come into my room and then you might have more of my feet”, Liam said and went back to his room.

Kyle crawled after him and Lars decided to take a look as well. There was his boyfriend sitting on his bed and the straight jock Kyle just sniffing away at his feet, while playing with his dick. Lars got hard as well just by watching it. Liam looked at him, smiled and tapped on the bed next to him. Unsure Lars sat down next to him.

“How did you?” he began.

“I guess the site worked. It fulfilled my wish. Now everything I say to Kyle, Nils and Martin will happen.”

Lars felt a tug at his feet and saw Kyle pulling off his shoes to sniff his feet as well.

“Now what do you say, Kyle. Would you like to be at our feet forever?”

“Yes. Oh fuck yes.”

“Well then so be it. After all you are nothing more than our socks.”

With that Kyle’s body began to transform. The fabric of the socks began to engulf him, until he was completely covered. He disappeared and was now Liam’s and Lars’s socks.

“He is pretty comfortable. I guess this was a good decision”, Liam said.

Lars was still a little bit confused but was so turned on by his boyfriend right now, that he did not ask anything.

“What happened? Where am I?” Kyle’s voice suddenly echoed through their brains.

He sounded sobered up.

“You are at our feet”, Liam answered and wiggled his toes.

Kyle moaned with pleasure by the sensation.

“This is impossible. When I am getting out here, I will”, he said between moans.

“Oh shut it. You have two options here, Kyle. The first is to continue threatening me and you will stay as you are right now. Or you can shut up and strike a deal with me”, Liam said.

“What kind of deal?”

“I will tell you if you decide. If you want the deal you will have to fulfil it. No getting out of it.”

“Sure. What kind of sick game you wanna play, faggot?”

“That is what I thought. I am giving you six months. In these six months you will have to make Martin and Nils put on a special pair of socks. If you succeed you will not be turned into a sock again. But you will still be a dirty sock loving slave for us. If you fail, well you will just turn back into our socks. Do we have a deal?”

“As if I could lose this. Everything is better than being a pair of socks.”

“Oh well. Then you will turn back into your old self. Let me and Lars leave the flat in peace and try to carry out the deal. You will be handed the special socks. You just need them to put them on. The rest will happen then.”

Slowly the socks began to lose fabric and Kyle was lying back on the ground naked. He stood up and began covering up.

“Oh stop that. This is nothing to be embarrassed of.”

Kyle took his hands away and now Liam as well as Lars got a good look at him. He was smaller than Lars would have thought.

“Guess he got some compensating to do, for this” Liam pointed at Kyle’s dick and laughed.

Then Liam took two pairs of his socks and handed them to Kyle. Lars and Liam left the flat and Kyle to fulfil his part of the deal.  On their way back, Lars began asking Liam.

“How comes you choose this kind of deal for him?”

“Just imagine. His parents have a lot of cash. This way I can take advantage of him as he did of me.”

“Sure but how do you know, I would like this?”

“Do you not?”

“Well”, Lars began.

“No worries. You will soon see how good this is.”

Lars nodded.

“But anyway, why did Kyle agree to the deal? Was that you’re doing as well?”

“Not really. I guess he just heard, that he will not be our socks and that was all he heard. I am pretty sure he will not make it happen. So he will lose anyway.”

With that both boys stopped with the topic and began talking about other stuff. The weeks went by and the relationship between Liam and Lars grew more and more. Lars even told his parents how it was and they were okay with it. Even offered Liam to stay with them. But he just said that he was just waiting for Kyle to move out, which could be every day. And then the day came. Kyle wrote him, that he had fulfilled his part of the deal. Liam was a little bit surprised, but happy. He told Kyle that he would need to wait until tomorrow for conformation and then he would fulfil his end of the bargain.

A little bit earlier:

Nils, Martin and Kyle were sitting together in Kyle’s room. He had the special socks prepared for them and a plan how he would them make them put on.

“Hey how about a game? If I beat both of you in the next game, you will put on theses socks. Just once and then you can take them off again. Sounds good?”

“What the fuck man? What kind of weird game should this be?”

“Oh come on. It will be fun.”

“Well since you will not beat the both of us, we can play. When you lose you will put them on and lick both our feet”, Nils said challenging and looked at Kyle.

Jokes on you, I was waiting for this. God how much I want to lick those soles, Kyle thought and nodded.

So they began to play. Against the odds, Kyle came out victorious.

“Guess I won. Time for you to”, he began, when Nils and Martin already grabbed the socks and put them on.

“Now happy?” Martin asked.

“Sure. You can take them off now.”

Both boys looks at their feet and began to move their toes. Under the fabric, their own socks had disappeared and now they were only wearing Liam’s socks. Nils wore black socks with paws under his feet. Martin wore the same socks but in white.

“You know, somehow they feel pretty comfortable. I guess I will keep them”, Nils said.

“Sure, why not? I don’t care. They belong to Liam.”

“Ha to the faggot? No wonder. Only more a reason to keep them.”

With that they continued playing. Some hours later Martin and Nils went home. They lived close to each other, so they were driving with one car.

“Never expected to have Kyle making us do something like this”, Nils said.

“Me neither. But you were no better. What kind of idea was this?”

“Oh. If he wants to play, then he should pay for it.”

“Yeah and still we lost. But somehow I don’t know why but I don’t want to take these socks off”, Martin said.

“Me neither. They are so comfy and I don’t know. I cannot really describe it.”

“I know man. Bet yours are not as comfy as mine.”

“Bet mine are even comfier.”

“Never.”

“Try them”, Nils said, after he parked the car.

So both boys began exchanging one sock each and now either of them was wearing one black and one white puppy sock.

“You are right they are equally comfy”, Martin said.

“See? Told you. Well then, see you tomorrow.”

With that both boys parted and went into their rooms.

Nils was on his bed thinking about the day when suddenly he got hard as a rock. Confused he pulled his pants down and looked at his dick.

“Man, why am I so pent up?”

He began playing with himself. But today it felt different. It felt wrong to touch his dick. He could not cum. Not even getting closer to it. He was hard but still it felt bad to play with himself. Curios he took his black sock off and put it over his dick. A totally new sensation erupted from it. He began moaning and now he noticed that he was getting closed to an orgasm. A few minutes later he came. The orgasm was something else. It felt different. His dick even felt different. Spent he was lying there, the sperm filled sock still on his cock. But to his surprise his dick did not go down. He was still hard, begging again for release. So Nils began rubbing again. What he did not notice, was that the sock was now stuck to his dick, while the white one was stuck to his foot. He kept rubbing and rubbing. With each stroke his sperm got pushed into the fabric. Not long and he had another orgasm and filled the sock even more. But his dick still refused to go down, so he continued. After some time, the fabric decided that it was time to claim his new host. So it began spreading around his body. Bit by bit was swallowed by the fabric. Black and white. First his legs. Then his belly, his arms, his hands and at last even his head.

“Oh yes”, was the last thing Nils said and would say for the rest of his live.

His mouth was sealed by the sock fabric and he was nothing more than a black and white sock. The third orgasm sealed his new form and so there was no going back. His body began to hollow out. Everything turned to fabric. It felt so good, having his body rearranged. At last there was only socks left of what had been Nils. Martin had the same experience and he was transformed as well. They blacked out and woke up the next morning.

Oh what a night, Nils thought and tried to get up. His body was not responding.

“What the fuck?”, he asked trying to look around.

Everything was black. Where was he? From the smell he must be fallen into a pile of dirty socks.

“Finally awake, I see”, Liam said and sudden light flooded Nils’s eyes.  

Now he could see why it had been so dark. He had been shoved into a shoe. Liam’s shoe.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Oh nothing special”, Liam responded and suddenly Nils saw Martin.

He was on Liam’s foot. So that would mean, he was on Liam’s foot as well. That would explain the smell.

“Release me this instant”, Nils demanded.

“Oh hush, little sock. You are not only on my feet, but on Lars as well. Trust me you will love this new live. You lost the game against Kyle so it was only fair. Now I can take advantage of you, how you did of me. Enjoy it”, Liam said and Nils wanted to answer, when suddenly Kyle came into view.

He was completely naked and hard as a rock. A hand grabbed Nils and he was pulled closed to Kyles face. Air was forced through his body, cooling him down, giving him a shiver, as Kyle inhaled the scent. Then something wet was dragged along Nils’s body. It was Kyles tongue. Every bit of his body that was touched with the saliva was tingling. Nils felt so good. Even though he had no physical dick anymore he felt hard. Kyle continued with his worshipping and Nils felt like he was cumming over and over.  

“That was the a good whish, darling”, Lars said, looking over to Liam.

“I know. He Kyle after you are done with our feet, go make us breakfast”, he said.

“Anything you like master. But please let me cum”, he begged.

“Maybe after breakfast, if you are a good sock slave.”

With that Kyle continued his worshipping. Nils and Martin lost their last resistance with all the pleasure and Lars was happy that Liam finally got what he deserved. A boyfriend and Kyle, how would do anything for them.

[annasinterests]

I See Fire

|| main masterlist ||

a/n: i'm dedicating this to my love @tinygarbage because the percy brainrot has been unreal for both of us. i thought this up after watching a tiktok (pls don't ask me i literally watched it once, swiped out of the app, then threw my phone across the room) and so this is what we got fellers. ALSO, one line is directly inspired by/from the D&D movie, so i give credit to my boy edgin because honestly the scene about him being so unapologetically honest about his mistakes was everything to me (i also guessed his dialogue word-for-word that entire time and was RIGHT). honestly thinking ab whether or not if i wanna make a part 2 to this..

divider by @saradika ! ❤️‍🔥

word count: 682 words (who knew i could actually write under 1k)

pairings: percy de rolo x reader

warnings & tags: angst, past trauma, arguing, cursing, miscommunication, unresolved ending

“No!-” You seethe, hands balling into fists at your sides, “Don’t you get it?”

Percy scoffed, “You ask that like I should know, and I don’t!” He raised a pointed finger to you, “How can I when all you ever do is leave us in the dark!”

Your jaw clenches as you turn away. White-hot anger blazed your body and blotted out everything else, even the tears that brimmed your eyes and streaked your cheeks.

“Always putting yourself at an arm’s distance, acting like you have the biggest burden to carry– well, guess what? We all have shit of our own!” His rigid tone made your face scrunch up. “You push away every single person that tries to get under the surface, including us! We’re supposed to be a team, damn it!”

You hated him. His pompous attitude and sense of entitlement, as if he’s somehow better than everyone else, or deserves explanations for things that don’t concern him. You hated his stupid glasses that made him look pretentious as hell, and that unnecessary trench coat he wore at all times. And the way he constantly whips out some sort of contraption that leaves the others in awe, stroking his ego, but you wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction.

But what you really hated, arguably most of all, was that he saw you. Right through all the acts and walls you put up to protect yourself– a promise that there’d be no more pain and tears for as long as you lived out your days.

A promise now shattered.

“Without trust, we are nothing.” The words are venomous, so full of exasperation that it strains his voice on the last word.

A sigh and some shuffling follows a moment or two after, and all you can think is how he’s undeniably soothing the crease between his brows while his other hand rests on his hip, a classic pose of his in high-stress situations. Not that you ever paid attention…

“Believe me, it’s not worth living life that way.” His voice was softer, almost apologetic, “It’s… lonely.”

Had you been completely blinded by your own emotions, you would’ve taken the opportunity to tell him to shove it and kick rocks, but you spared him.

“I, too, thought it was easier. I’d seen my loved ones hunted like game, my own sister betrayed our family name, Whitestone had been–”

“Whitestone still stands,” you snap harshly, abruptly cutting him off. “My home does not.”

It’s then you finally turn back to him with a chilling glare and darkened features. His expression drops to widened eyes and slightly raised brows, clear that he’d not been expecting that response. But now it started, and you couldn’t stop.

“My friends do not– my family does not.” The words are registering at higher decibels that burn your throat after each word, “My life– everything!”

You march up to him, squaring up before his infuriatingly tall frame, locking eyes with his. You were shouting in his face, reaching a point of zenith you didn’t know you had, your vocal cords raw and sore that you were sure they could snap at any moment.

“I’ve lost everything that ever mattered to me and it was all my fault!”

Your body is trembling from the sheer force of the confession, and the air isn’t getting to your lungs the way you need it to right now. Your eyes, narrowed and fierce, fight to maintain their focus, but that buried, broken part of you is clawing its way out with a strength you can’t compete against.

His eyes flicker between yours, his face softened by a frown. You force yourself to look anywhere but his pitying gaze; you don’t need or want it, especially from him. You hastily wipe away the tears with the back of your hand, take a sharp breath in, and then exhale deeply. Out of all people, you couldn’t believe the one person to break you down would be none other than fucking Percival Fredrickstein von Mu—

“You don’t really believe that… do you?”

Yes, of course I do.

[morgana-ren]

What IS up with kar'niss. Did he go insane because of the isolation or did the absolute scramble his brains and is the her he's referring too lothl?

Alright, so Kar'niss is described as sort of having a 'fractured mental state.' It's not exactly elaborated on as far as I know, but it is depicted as him hearing voices, speaking to entities that aren't present (the Absolute, namely) and just struggling with his perception of reality in general. I think a lot of his anti-social mannerisms can be attributed to being a drider (cast out and shunned from Drow society, abandoned by his God-Queen, etc) but not all driders have this strange, almost erratic behavior.

I'm not sure you ever explicitly and without a doubt find out what is wrong with him (and I could be wrong here) but I have some speculations.

He describes himself as 'hearing voices.' When he speaks, he more than often isn't referring to you the player or even the goblins he's with, but seems to speaking directly to the Absolute, as if in constant communication with her-- as if she is at his side constantly. He tends to use the royal 'we' when speaking, as if referring to both of them congruently. She never seems to respond in kind, but this doesn't stop him from talking to her directly.

You can actually choose to prey on perceived insecurities and call him 'ugly' basically. He gets offended seemingly not on his own behalf (not on a base and shallow level anyway) but seems to take offense on behalf of the Absolute.

"To insult me is to insult her Majesty! It is to mock the Absolute!"

And frankly, he doesn't seem to have much care for the appearances of his compatriots either, as evidenced with his line "The Absolute My queen has ordered me to guide Her followers through the dark-- however imperfect they may be." or something along those lines, although I guess this could be more of a projection than anything if you want to look deeply into it. It's said sneering at the player, however.

This is entirely speculation, but I feel like driders in specific might be more open to the manipulations of the Absolute, as with most groups 'shunned' in one form or another by either 'civilized' society, or by their own racial groups. Driders were abandoned by Lolth, and that is a brutal betrayal. Lolth isn't a distant theological concept, but a tangible part of their lives. To lose her is to lose their stability, their homes, their entire belief system, etc. They know their goddess is real, and she has spurned them without a doubt. They have their arachnid bodies as proof of this abandonment.

It creates a vacuum of sorts. It doesn't seem implausible that the Absolute could play on this abandonment and act as a sort of surrogate mother for them in the stead of the one they had before their 'failure' and subsequent transformation. Drow are raised to be wholly faithful to Lolth, and when they lose that aspect of their lives, it leaves a hole that is yearning to be filled. She could fill that hole.

However, remember, the "Absolute" is a fucking Netherbrain. They rely on mental manipulation and psionic tactics. They put a worm in your head that fucks with your mental faculties and connects with you a virtual network of basically everyone else with said worm-- some more subservient than others. Kar'niss has one of these worms.

It's entirely possible that this broke Kar'niss somehow. His mental state might've been poor enough as it was, but to have his mind meddled in by the absolute might've been the straw that broke the guar's back.

We don't meet any other driders in our adventures, so it's rather difficult to tell, as we don't have a control group to compare it to. We have other people infected, of course, but none are quite like the driders.

Also, to be considered, when you raise Kar'niss after battle, and you ask him about the pixie, he says "I hear many voices, but hers-- the loudest."

Pixies are fae. Tricky little shits, even in a sticky situation. And he was with her always. It's also entirely possible that as revenge for trapping her, she played her little tricks on Kar'niss' mind. Bane knows she had enough time to do so while he was shepherding people back and forth from Moonrise Towers.

It's also possible that she just annoyed the hell out of him and that's why he says what he does. However, that is his response when you ask him "How did you trap the pixie in the lantern?"

Another angle is the shadows themselves.

Kar'niss is terrified of them. One of the goblins, given that the appropriate dialogue options are picked, will throw a bone into the shadows, and one of their hyenas will dart off to retrieve it. You are privy to exactly what happens when you stray from the light.

Kar'niss loses it, almost killing the goblin in the process. "We do not taunt the shadows!"

It's apparent that he is afraid. Even with the light of his beloved goddess held close like a security blanket to a small child, he is still afraid.

Recall He Who Was. A Shadar-Kai driven mad by exposure to the shadows, so much so that he basically, in a way, spurned his own Raven Queen. He never strikes me as quite right in a similar way to Kar'niss. He does not necessarily hear voices, but it's clear his mental state has been equally fractured.

The shadows are not natural shadows. That is made very apparent over the course of act 2. Long term exposure, even while avoiding death within them somehow, seems to have extremely negative effects on the humanoid psyche. The main exceptions to this are those holed up at Last Light, as they have the blessing of Selune holding them at bay.

But Kar'niss? He is stealing a pixies magical aura, basically. It's not quite the same as a blessing from a goddess. Back and forth he goes, bringing initiates to and from the shadowlands towards Moonrise towers, essentially living within them.

Since we don't know what Kar'niss was like before the Absolute got her filthy tentacles on him, we can't entirely be sure exactly what the fuck is going on. It could be all of these things. It could be none of them.

Or there could be some very simple dialogue that I missed that literally explains it. I'm no expert lmao.

[purecancellation]

jack in the box (mascot) x trans male reader

i hate tumblr. but the people who love this man are on tumblr. so here you are.

tags; smut (first time writing it), oral, cunnilingus, thighs, slight boot worship, neck kissing. thx

word count; 2,846

*can be read as gender neutral-- one masculine term appears and top surgery is mentioned.

--

As crisp air brushed past my skin, my eyes turned toward the front door. Jack walked through, expression tired and unfocused. He hung his coat up and rolled his shoulders, a light cracking sound in my ears.

“Oh, hun, was work alright?” He turned towards me, a smile slithering onto his face. “Yes, it went quite okay. Just a long shift, that’s all.” His hands snuck their way to my waist, holding me close to him. “I missed you,” he pressed a kiss to my forehead, “I've been itching to see you since I stepped foot in the restaurant.”

A soft giggle left my throat, fingertips dancing along his broad arms. “That long, huh?”

“Mhm, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.”

“Should I make dinner, maybe? Or get you a drink?”

“No, I ate before leaving. There might be something else you can get me, though.”

His formerly sour utterance had been replaced by a playful appearance, mouth upturned in a smirk. Jack rested his head lightly on the side of mine, chin resting upon my shoulder. His hands continued to hold me, but they slid towards the hem of my shirt, thumbs slipping under.

My voice was a whisper, “Jack…”

“Yes, darling?” he spoke in a tired, tempting tone.

“It’s late, are you sure you’re awake enough for this?” I questioned. His head moved away from the crook of my neck, eyes now staring directly toward mine. Jack didn’t have the most expressive face, but it was evident he appreciated me looking out for him.

“Hah. I suppose I could muster the willpower,” he joked, “are you okay with that?” He punctuated that remark with a kiss.

I nodded, mouth finding his, hands now around his head. It continued for a beat, until I slid down to his neck, lips sucking a bruise into the delicate skin. My left hand lay on his nape, rubbing soft circles into the side. A soft sound made its way from Jack’s mouth, making my brain fuzzy. It was cute how vulnerable he got sometimes. It was usually when he came home from a less-than-favorable day at work, all that stress building up in him. His pain tolerance wasn’t low by any means, but sometimes it knocked the wind from him, seeing as he was shaking after a few marks, eyes clamped shut and hands grasping tighter and tighter around me.

“Dear,” he mumbled, head thrown back from bearing his neck to me, “can– can we take this somewhere besides the living room?”

His remark brought me out of the trance I fell into, my brain finally registering that we hadn’t left the entryway. I stumbled back slightly, Jack’s hands preventing me from going far. His neck adorned blooming bruises, only soft violet at the moment.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, head lolled to the side, neck still on display.

“Yes– yes. I just…”

“Got too excited?”

I cracked a smile, “Yeah.”

Straightening my back, I lifted Jack’s hands from my body, instead holding his wrist and leading him to our bedroom. The excited laugh that came from him was already worth it, the sound of it lighting up something inside of me, something that wanted to hear that laugh over and over. He wasn’t a very business-casual guy, always showing a full range of emotion, but he didn’t usually let his guard down in our more intimate moments when we first got together. It felt special being able to hear those noises now, they spurred me on more than anything.

I pulled him to the edge of our bed, motioning for him to sit. As I kneeled between his spread legs, Jack started to ask what I was doing– I didn’t answer. I leaned a small ways away, hands lifting his right shoe onto my knee. He usually wore black dress shoes, shiny and pointed at the toe. My fingers traced lightly along the material, stopping at the laces to carefully untie them. Lifting the shoe from his foot, I placed it to the side and repeated the action to his left. He isn’t sure why I do silly things like that, and frankly neither do I. But, it was something nice I could do for him, and that’s all that mattered.

Leaning back towards him, my hands held tight onto his thighs, sharp nails eliciting a pained response. “May I?” I asked, hands rubbing their way toward his belt. There was a small ‘mhm’ in response. The belt made a clink as I unfastened it, tugging it out of the loops which held it in place. The leather was smooth against my hands as I placed it on the ground near his shoes. My pointer and thumb pulled his zipper down, hands hastily taking off the dark dress pants he often wore. Now, Jack was left in his cream-colored button-up and boxers, hands placed behind him in a placating gesture. He stared down at me, eyes half-lidded, a sight which excited me only further. His erection was prominent now, dick straining against his underwear, just begging to be released. I took my time, mouth skittering along his legs, teeth biting into the insides of his them. Jack had, undoubtedly, a huge thing for thighs. He preferred to be the one worshipping them, but sometimes switching it up on him elicited a pleasurable response. While sucking bruises into the meat of his legs, a symphony of noises came from the man above me. I could treat any other part of his body like this, and even then he wouldn’t react quite like this. The thought, sight, and feeling of harming a part of somebody that is so painfully close to their groin made him feral in a sense. Jack’s hands tightened around the loose sheet below him, a sound faint compared to those made from his squirming.

“You– hah, you know I love this, sweetheart, but it may be too m–” his words got cut off, I assume his mouth clamped shut in a hiss as my teeth hit a spot right on the edge of his boxers. It was a hard bite, harder than I intended, and a slight metallic taste coated my mouth.

I pulled away from his legs, “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

Jack just laughed, voice low and cut up, “I’ll forgive you if you take off my boxers, it’s starting to–" he jutted his hips up slightly, "–hurt,”

“Oh, of course,” I breathed, hands pulling down the waistband and letting them pool around his legs. He lifted his feet so I could toss them in the pile of already discarded clothing. His erection now stood at full attention, pre-ejaculate dripping lightly from the tip. My voice was light, lips grinning, “Geez, all this time and I’m still not accustomed to the sight of you.” My hands roamed his lower body, fingers dipping into his v-line before resting on the sides of his hard-on. After a moment, which I assume felt like hours to him, my lips placed a loving kiss on the top of the head, a familiar taste in my mouth.

“Please, oh please dear,”

It was rare that he pleaded for something– especially in such a tone. Caving, I brought my hand to stroke down his length, mouth slowly sinking onto him. I took my time to ensure I wouldn’t choke. Jack held back a groan, his leg tensing beneath my non-dominant hand. As my head sank lower, my other palm rested on the opposite leg, my tongue spreading to the parts I couldn’t reach. He snuck one of his hands into my hair, gripping my scalp light enough to guide me through the motions.

The scene played out similarly for several minutes, Jack teetering closer to his climax as my spit coated him, my fingers close enough that I could feel the saliva drip from my lips down onto his leg.

“I’m– oh, haah, can you take it all the way, hun?”

My lack of reaction was a response to him, a ‘yes’. It wasn’t because he ignored me, or I ignored him; it was non-verbal communication. I’d tap on any part of him I could reach if it was a no, as I can’t exactly speak when he’s preventing me from doing so. Jack’s hand pushed me lower, lower, lower, my mouth filled as my lips met the base, and my fingers clenched as I attempted not to convulse around him. As I stayed there, his hips twitched up into my mouth trying to get more out of it. I tapped his leg, a sign to let me up, and a slick pop was heard as he did so. The man above me bit back a whine, his grip digging into my head, hips lifted ever-so-slightly into the air.

“You’ll get to climax, you’re fine. But at least let me take my pants off.” I spoke, tone light and poking fun at his desperation. Standing, I met the man on our bed, his hands finding my belt immediately. Unbuckling it, he pulled it out and quickly tossed it to the floor, ignoring wherever it landed. I lifted my shirt over my head, and Jack followed suit by loosening his tie and unbuttoning his blouse. Kicking my cargo pants off, I brought my hand to his face and leaned him into a gentle kiss, fingers tracing patterns into every inch of skin reachable. Jack tilted his body towards me, legs finding their spot on the outside of mine.

He broke away, “I’ve seen you like this so many times, yet– God– you are still just so good-looking.”

I let my back hit the bed, body now flat against it. His head leaned down towards mine, next to my ear, asking softly for permission to touch me. “Yes,” I let out, voice clouded with desire. Jack knows I don’t like jumping the gun, instead taking my time to feel things out, which applied to any situation, including sexual ones. He, on the other hand, is impatient, wanting to run immediately into everything. But, he adjusts himself for me. Even if he’s tired, even if he’s pent up, even if he’s being pissy– he’ll gain some magical patience.

His fingers traced my collarbones, running then lower, nails skittering along the scars adorning my chest. When he first saw them, he reacted in a way different from those before him: “It– it’s okay. I don’t mind them, really. This isn’t gonna change anything, it won’t, I promise. Just let me take care of you, okay?” Upon hearing that, I hadn’t known how to react. I did what he asked, though, and let him take the lead. Others I’d slept with before him preferred me to keep my shirt on and hide the marks, or they told me to lay on my stomach so we didn’t face one another. After so long, it felt normal, my feelings being disregarded. Jack doesn’t do that. He will go out of his way to make sure that I feel safe. It’s sweet. He’s sweet.

Snapping back to reality, I noticed my hands holding an area of sheet that was under my waist and my legs were being held apart by Jack’s knees. He went from straddling me to instead both of his legs in between mine and his hands continuing to spread across my body like I was a treasure you’d find in old ruins or a new toy you’d receive on Christmas. Sliding down to my waist and then my hips, his fingers tangled in the fuzz I neglected to shave, hands going oh-so-slow.

“Jack, just a little lower, please?” I requested, eyes only open enough to see a sliver of his face, a daunting smile occupying it.

“If you’ll look at me while I do it,”

I wasn’t a fan of him asking that, but I did so anyways, head jerking to face him head-on, eyes opened as far as they could be.

“You listen to directions so well,” he taunted. “Good man.”

A whine left my mouth at that, legs attempting to clench together despite the obstacle between them. Jack let out a laugh. His dominant hand slithered lower between my thighs, his thumb brushing over a spot that had me slapping my palm down onto my mouth and my hips bucking up and against the new-found friction. His lightly calloused thumb rubbed the spot continuously, his head falling to the crook of my neck to whisper sweet nothings. As I writhed beneath him, the flat of my hand unable to suppress my noises, his pointer finger slid across my slit. It was over from there. I instinctively bit down on the corner of my hand, legs shaking and head spinning, my eyes now clenched shut and unable to face any part of him.

“Calm down… That’s it. Just concentrate, dear.”

His voice was a calming whisper against my ear, my movements slowing slightly as he eased his own. Just as he removed his thumb from the nub, his finger once again rubbed against my opening, the messy liquid no doubt coating it.

“I’m going to fuck you on my fingers now, mhm?”

“God, yeah,” I rushed, ears ringing softly. His vulgar words shot a burst of heat through my body, my left hand hugging the covered mattress tightly.

Two fingers prodded at the entrance, his middle and ring, slipping in with ease. He brought them in and out slowly, letting me adjust, his soothing voice talking me through it. I bucked my hips against his hand, my groin rubbing against his palm, granting me delicious friction. Jack’s body was pressed almost exactly to mine, making it difficult to move much. He spread his knees apart, taking my legs with it, and lifted his head from my neck. Even with him off of me, the small of my back arched upwards, body heat being shared between us.

“Look at me,” he said, more of a statement than a request.

A whine left my throat, eyes fluttering open, my palm still held against my mouth.

“And let me hear your voice, honey.”

The sentence took a second to even register in my head, hand slowly retracting back to my side. I fought back the urge to bite my lip, instead letting the venereal mumbling play through the room. Softly, almost too low to hear it, he thanked me for my cooperation.

He shifted his weight, one of his legs going outside of mine, left hand now positioned on the headboard above me to hold himself up. His hand continued thrusting, fingers occasionally stroking against a spot that elicited crude sounds from my throat. My eyes were unfocused and struggled to stay open. A cacophony of begging and pleas left my lips, the words broken up by unintentional moans. Jack was saying something above me, but I stopped listening once he sped up his movements, my mind too cloudy to think.

“Haah– Jack, Jack,” I swallowed, hard, “I’m going to– nnh–” my sentence was cut off by a groan, my face turning to the side, a slight line of drool dribbling from my lips and moistening the sheet below.

“Yeah? Then do it.”

His voice was harsh and he spoke quickly. The hinted desperation in it set something off in me, my body clenching around his fingers, a full-throated sob leaving me before I could stop it. Jack’s hand was slick with the aftermath and he hit inside of me a couple of times before letting me go limp on the bed. It was hard to register much. I did notice, however, that Jack hadn’t orgasmed yet. I came to that conclusion when he positioned himself above me, dominant hand feeling up his dick and eventually stroking it harshly. His hand was already lubed because of me, so the strokes made prominent, wet skin-on-skin sounds. Since I edged him so close earlier, he had no problem getting to his climax now, low whines leaving him as a warm liquid spurted across my abdomen.

I shut my eyes, my body feeling fuzzy and light. My attention was cut as I focused on my breathing, not noticing when Jack got up to get a wet rag. He came back to clean up, the washcloth a comfortable roughness against my skin as it wiped away the dried seminal fluids. He discarded it on our nightstand and grabbed a blanket, coming back to lie next to me.

“Was that okay?” he asked, hand pulling the comforter up and over us. He laid his hand across my stomach, thumb rubbing my skin lightly.

My head turned to look at him, a smile creeping onto my face. “Yeah, hon. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, that makes it sound like a favor. But, thank you for dealing with me.”

“Wouldn’t want to handle anybody else.”

Jack chuckled at that, his head nudging itself against mine, hands wrapped around my body. I hummed lightly, bringing my hand up to hold one of his. Nothing else was said. We fell asleep in delicate silence.

ok a/n theres meant to be italics and stuff but god im not gonna put those back in. too much work

[justanamesstuff]

blurb request: matty and reader picking Amelia's and Arthur's names lol I think matty would be so stubborn with his ideas and every time sharing a new one

A/N: I LOVE THISSS...felt quite inspired and wrote a lot haha, I hope you like it!! Sorry for any typos (haven't proofread)

I believe both occasions were entirely different. Since they were “only friends” during Y/n’s first pregnancy, and openly in love during the second one. The only similarity was that both times they knew ‘the gender’.

Amelia’s pregnancy

I think he just randomly shared his ideas. Like he could be at the studio with the boys, asking through texts how she was, if she needed something and then suddenly:

Matty:  HOW ABOUT IF WE NAME HER GEMMA?  Y/n: Didn't you have a girlfriend with that name? Matty: Fuck. Y/n: that's what i thought Matty: anyway…how many chocolates should I buy? Y/n: all they have, please 🤤 Matty: Y/n… 🙄 Y/n: What?! It’s for the baby 😇 Matty: right.

But when they finally chose one, they were at opposites sides of the new house –they moved in to raise her–, Matty in his home studio and Y/n in the living room watching a film. 

“Y/n!” he shouted out of the blue, startling her. 

She tried to move quickly, but it was hard with her big belly of 6 months. “What?”

“Y/n!” his voice coming closer and closer.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” she worried.

Matty showed up in the living room, stopping to catch his breath. “No.” he managed to answer. “I’m okay. Wait-” he pushed one finger up. “Give…me…a minute.” Matty let his body collapsed on the couch, beside Y/n. She was trying to figure out what was happening, the film long forgotten. 

“Matty?” Y/n broke the silence after a few minutes, admiring his face resting while Matty tried to breathe rhythmically again, focusing on the task with his eyes closed. He was so pretty. 

“Yes?”

“You called me?” Y/n inquiry made him snapped, opening his eyes while he turned his head to look at her. 

“Oh, yes! I have the perfect name.” Y/n hit him on his shoulder with all the force she could. Matty tried to shield himself from her. “What that was for?” he protested.

“You scared me!” Matty’s sight softened with her affirmation. 

“You’re so cute.”

“Shut up and start spilling.” she urged him.

“Right, right.” Matty made a dramatic pause. “Stevie!” the singer shared with Y/n, gaining a stunned look from her. “What? It’s perfect! Like Stevie Nicks, da?” 

“Don’t get me wrong, but Stevie Healy doesn’t sound good for our baby.” Matty melted every time she referred to the baby growing in her belly as ‘their’ baby. 

“Y/n, listen to me…it’s perfect!” Matty stubbornly fought back. “And when she’ll be here…” he dared to touch her belly, sensing the baby kick. “They can meet, and it’s going to be the coolest shit ever!”

“Matty…” Y/n started sweetly, touching his hand with hers. “Sounds good, not good enough for our child. She’s growing inside me, I have a say in this.”

“Not fair.” he protested. 

“Another name you want to share?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on…don’t be a baby!”

“Share yours if it's so cool!”

“Healy.” 

“Fine.” Matty looked her directly into her eyes. “Emily.”

“What do you have with the ‘e’, ‘i’ and ‘y’?” Y/n chuckled. “Emily Healy.” she tried to think if it sounded good or not. “No…of course not!”

“Impossible! You’re mother-” Matty leaned forward, talking directly with the belly. “Your mother is impossible.”

“Your father is the most stubborn man walking this earth.”

“Oh, really? Tell me your amazing names for her!” he encouraged her. 

“Alright.” Y/n smiled at him. “I have to warn you...you’re going to love it, Healy.” he rolled his eyes at her. “Amelia.”

Matty had to suck his own words, staying in complete silence. He felt the baby kick his hand once more, making his eyes moving from Y/n’s face to the belly. 

“Do you like that name, baby?” another kick. Matty’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t say no to you.”

“What you think?” Y/n asked, feeling her tears streaming down her face. Matty stared at her face again, going to dry the tears and hold her face between his palms.

“It’s perfect.” he mumbled, feeling the strong need to kiss her. 

Y/n brought him in for a hug, the belly between their bodies.

Arthur’s pregnancy

During Y/n’s second pregnancy, Matty was more relaxed as well as Y/n. They were inside a bubble enjoying being in love, having a beautiful daughter growing so fast and the baby that was coming anytime soon. 

Since Y/n found out she was actually pregnant to giving birth to a beautiful and healthy baby boy, time went by fast. Matty had taken a step back from touring with the band to fully be there during the last months of the pregnancy. During those months they talked about the possible names, but none seemed good or even correct, and time passed. 

Y/n held the baby, rocking him while seated at the hospital bed, not being able to stop looking away. He was so tiny and perfect. The baby had little hair, but not curls showing just yet. 

“I’m back.” Matty announced entering the room. “Hi.” he stopped after closing the door, staring at his girlfriend and baby boy.

“Hey.” Y/n answered with a barely audible voice. “He just fell asleep.” she told Matty.

“That’s good.” he went to kiss both of their forehead, making sure not to wake the newborn. “Grace told me she wants to come tomorrow.”

“Okay, sure. How’s Mel? I miss her already.” 

“She’s okay, asking about mommy.” Matty left the bag he brought at the couch and returned to stand beside Y/n. 

Y/n pouted with Matty’s words, “Don’t tell me that.” 

Matty snorted. “I’d told her she that mommy was okay and missing her a lot.”

“And?”

“Kept asking where was mommy.”

“My little Sherlock.”

“That’s it!” Matty said way too loud, cringing seconds later the sound reached his ears. Both parents looked down at the baby. He only moved a little, still asleep. They breathe out. 

“We’re not calling him Sherlock, Matthew.” Y/n warned him. The only times they discussed the second baby’s name, Matty came up with the strangest options. 

“No, no…of course not! I don’t hate my own child!” Matty shouted in a whisper.

“Neither Watson.” 

“Please, shut up.” Y/n crooked her eyebrow, ready to fight. “Please, my beloved…listened to the man that you love so much.” Matty approached his face to hers, leaving a sweet kiss on her lips. “Okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Arthur Conan.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Y/n, we can’t keep calling him baby or my sweet boy. He needs a name!”

“I know that, but we’re not naming him Conan.”

“Then only Arthur.” Matty offered. 

“No middle name?”

Matty shrugged his shoulders, “Amelia doesn’t have a second one…I wish my parents didn’t add an extra one…”

Y/n stared at the baby’s face. “Arthur Healy.” she muttered. “Little Archie.” Y/n looked at him with affection. “Okay.”

“Really?” Matty asked suspicious. 

“Weren’t you so sure after all?” Y/n teased him.

“Of course.” Matty stand, trying to look confident. “Next baby, we’re calling him Edgar.” he joked, kissing her forehead.

“Over my dead body, Healy.”

He smiled wider, thinking that Y/n implied she wasn’t against the idea of having more babies with him.

[tavyliasin]

Scent of Cinnamon 7 - The Dress, The Duck, And The Cambion's Patience

Still unwilling to sleep with Haarlep directly so soon after their deal, Raphael needs to find another way to sate their appetite - and perhaps more importantly to prevent the incubus from the far more dangerous condition of boredom. Fortunately, he has just the client in mind - a poor mortal wretch named Eida - and a contract she's more than willing to sign.

4,025 Words

AO3 Link Click Here or Tumblr Masterlist for SoC Here

Summary: Raphael has a deal to make and the contract requires a little help from Haarlep to satisfy the client's wishes... Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep and Haarlep/Original Female Character SPICE Rating: 3/5  Content Warnings: Aphrodisiacs (mild), Cambion-typical manipulation, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Anal Fingering,Light Angst

Spoilers: Vague House of Hope and Act 3, but most of this series is focused on what came before. Canon Compliance: No canon beyond Haarlep's deals. Other Notes: Hells, it has been a while since I last worked on this series, but it has never been far from my mind or my heart~ I adore the pairing and we have so much further to go with it, yet life - and a few deadlines - kept me from progressing for a while. I also want to give my heartfelt thanks once again to my beta reader https://archiveofourown.org/users/Make_me_thy_lyre for helping polish it up, catch a few errors, and being so willing to chat through things in the comments with me as we polished up a few bits of dust from the draft. Please consider checking out some of her wonderful pieces~

Song Pairing Pure Morning by Placebo "A friend in need's a friend indeed, A friend with weed is better, A friend with breasts and all the rest, A friend who's dressed in leather. A friend in need's a friend indeed, A friend who'll tease is better, Our thoughts compress which makes us blessed And makes for stormy weather." - - Full chapter below the cut! - -

The Dress, The Duck, and The Cambion's Patience

Several tendays passed by in a blur. Time held different meaning to those who lived for millennia, yet there was still little in the form of entertainment for the incubus who lounged upon silken sheets in their new outfit. The leather harness covered little of their body, fitted so precisely to every curve and muscle that it felt almost like a part of their own skin. Chains and spikes added a harsher edge to the look, cool metal the perfect accent to stiff leather and crimson skin. The tailor had clearly earned her position and the renown that came with it. Despite the request being for undergarments, she had clearly designed the outfit with no intention for anything to be worn over it.

Haarlep had checked it over in the mirror a dozen times, finding the overall effect to be quite acceptable for now. Perhaps something could be added or changed later, or in further iterations of the clothing given that leather was not as long-lived as a fiend, particularly in the heat of the hells.

They turned the page of the book that they had barely been reading, the author droning on about mundane interactions for far too long in a tome that promised more enticing content. Were all mortals so dull as to require this much build up? Haarlep sighed and continued on with all the enthusiasm of someone folding laundry. 

—

Raphael knew it wouldn’t be enough for long, that keeping his distance would be entirely impossible when the hunger of the incubus reached its peak. Boredom, too, seemed to be just as dangerous as appetite when Haarlep was involved. No, he could not sate them forever with the same games they had played that night. It wasn’t enough for them to watch each other whilst they teased the pleasure from his mirrored nerves, and he wasn’t ready to lay with them directly…not yet… 

Rubbing the wrinkles forming on his brow, Raphael stepped into the portal, appearing in the run down home of his latest potential acquisition, contract already in hand. The work of a mere hour should be enough on this one, and he saw the way she looked at him…

“You’ll find the terms to be quite satisfactory,” he laid out the page on the table that was just as worn out as the clothes the half elf had clearly been repairing for a decade already, “within a tenday you’ll have all you wish for, and more.” 

“Really? Everything? Even…” The woman’s blush deepened on her cheeks as she lost her words, already looking at the parchment glowing with infernal runes. She couldn’t read it, of course, but it didn’t matter. All she needed to do was sign.

“Everything,” Raphael leaned in closer, allowing the new perfume to fill her senses, delighted at how her breath visibly quickened, “and more.” 

The shiver that passed through her was almost palpable, the seductive growl in the edge of the fiends voice hitting its mark with ease. It was almost disappointing how little of a challenge there was in this… “How can I ever thank you?” 

“Your signature is all the thanks I need,”  Raphael smiled as she took the quill between shaking fingers, “and, of course, you would not think to stray from the terms of our deal now, would you, Little Duck?” 

“N…no, of course not! I would never!” The ink dried on the page with the last flourish sealing their agreement.

Raphael rolled up the parchment the moment it was complete, a swift motion sending it directly to safe storage back in the House. Another spell brought forth a paper package tied with a deep crimson ribbon – a gesture that was perhaps unnecessary, but given her current attire… “I suggest you wear something more appropriate for the evening, I believe this will fit you quite well.” 

—

The boudoir was warm as always, yet the woman standing in a perfectly fitted – and quite stunningly revealing – dark blue gown was shivering. The dark coils of her hair fell past her shoulders, a single gold comb ornament holding it back from one side of her face, leaving slender fingers to nervously push more of the curls behind her pointed ear on the other side. Despite the flawless tailoring of the garment, it didn’t seem to fit her yet. Not that it would matter soon.

“Well, Little Duck, are you to stand there all night? Or did you wish to claim the prize you earned?” Haarlep kept to the nickname that Raphael had chosen for the woman. It was an ill fit for the half elf, but keeping diminutive pet terms was a simple way to be clear about who held the power. 

“I…you’re not what I expected, Raphael…” She faltered, hesitated. The taste of her curiosity was barely an appetiser, but she was a dish that could be seasoned if they were careful. “I thought your invitation was to dine, at least—” 

“Then feast your eyes upon everything you wished for!” Haarlep rose from the bed where they had been reclining, stretching out their wings in a display of power, relishing how her eyes drifted across their exposed form. “You see, there is more than one way to devour, more than one taste that could pass your lips~” 

The visitor took a half step back, tripping on the train of her dress – clearly unused to the trappings of finery. She gasped, but before she could hit the floor, Haarlep was there. They caught her in their arms easily, holding her low in a dancer’s dip rather than helping her to stand upright.

“Be careful, Little Duck, you have not yet grown used to your new plumage~” Haarlep gently stroked a few stray hairs away from her eyes, bringing their lips within reach of hers, savouring how her breath caught in her throat. “Would you like me to help you with that? It would be such a shame to ruin your new dress so soon, after all.” 

—

Raphael remained in the room that would become his archives, brow furrowed as he went over the plans. Security for his most prized possessions would be a key factor, but he should also ensure that contracts, spells, and all manner of tomes that might be of use would be kept perfectly organised. A desk against that wall, yes. A cabinet here, some shelves over there, a few more tables for when the need would arise to bring more debtors in to work for h—

A whisper of feeling crossed his lips. A shadow of a caress across his cheek. His hair felt slender fingers running through it until the echo of touch reached the nape of his neck.

So, it begins… He tapped his fingers on the desk at the realisation. The debtor playing the role of a butler – or something akin to that, at least – had led the newest client to the boudoir. He summoned her contract to his hand, unfurling it upon the desk. Eida, a name akin to a breed of waterfowl. “Little Duck” might not have been particularly imaginative, but it seemed as good a name as any to keep her in line, to remind her how he was taking her from a stagnant pond to a manor’s perfectly kept lake. Her ambitions were simple: leave her life of being poor and destitute, marry rich, live a quiet and pampered life. But she had desired more than that—

His skin prickled again. There was contact with a tail that wasn’t even present as he sat in his human guise, a shudder along the edge of intangible wings.

Raphael reminded himself of the other contract that remained in the Boudoir’s safe, the one place it could not be touched by the incubus. This was their agreement, a mutually beneficial decision to— 

He shifted in his seat. It might be some time before he could sit comfortably.

—

“Bold, Little Duck~” Haarlep laughed as the now mostly naked half elf let her fingers drift lower down their body, “do you wish to prove your loyalty to me? Do you swear to serve me?” 

“Yes, Raphael,”  she whispered, dropping to her knees the moment they pointed at the ground, “I swear it, I swear by every letter in our contract.” 

Haarlep grinned, winding their fingers into the curls of her hair to guide her lips to the leather at the lower point of their harness. “Go ahead, show me.” 

Eida’s tongue ran along the shape of their length, barely tangible through the thick material, but her eagerness – those sweet and nimble hands finding a grip on the straps of the harness to hold herself closer, soft moans already betraying her lust – that was enough to arouse them. No doubt Raphael himself was already feeling this, a thought that was far more interesting than a simple waterfowl. 

Distance was a factor in the incubus’ power, yet Raphael chose to remain within the House. That in itself was a fascinating decision – did he want to feel this? To experience this client servicing his needs without having to look upon her directly? Such a waste, they thought, gazing down at soft eyes that looked up for approval, she looks good on her knees.

—

Raphael shifted in his seat again. A quick cantrip had already made short work of the first loss of control that stained his underclothes, and he was glad of the brief reprieve – Haarlep was apparently returning the favour, if the feeling of pressure on his tongue was anything to go by. At least this allowed time to sort through a few more plans, take some measurements, pen some letters to ensure his pawns would move as they needed them. Eida was just one more piece on the board, but she would be an important one. Securing her marriage to a minor noble, using her cunning and charm to raise that noble’s status and influence, then should it be needed Haarlep could pose as the now high ranking lady of the city. They had to take her form first, of course, but judging by the change in sensation that was not going to be a problem. 

Frustrated, Raphael stood from the desk, leaving the chair on its back where it fell as his body transformed in a swirl of flames. Large crimson wings stretched and shuddered behind him as his tail swished and slapped at the floor with his impatience. Staying here was a mistake. Haarlep warned him – the closer he was, the more he would feel it, but hubris had kept him in the House in an effort to grow accustomed to the sensations more swiftly. His pace carried him quickly towards the secondary bedroom that had become his own after trading away the Boudoir to Haarlep, tail still lashing at the stone as he stumbled several times along the way, clothes chafing at the building heat within his body. 

—

It was challenging to hold back. Haarlep dug their claws into their own thigh to remind themselves – do not take all of her, do not let the Little Duck sink entirely into pleasure’s depths. She had a use yet.

“Pledge your body to me, swear it, and I will give you every pleasure your body yearns for~” They granted her one more kiss, the aphrodisiac enough to entice her, raise her desire to become the perfect cocktail, one to be sipped carefully. “I…I swear…please—” 

Haarlep grinned, wings spreading out behind them, tail flicking back and forth as they finally stopped teasing and thrust fully inside with one swift and merciless motion. 

Eida screamed, pleasure overwhelming her in a single moment, lust echoing from the walls as she called out the wrong name. “Raphael!” 

Haarlep bristled at the name, but bit their lip, held their tongue. They were playing their part well enough, the master of the House would pay for the insult one way or another…and eventually they would need to grow accustomed to this part of the game, the act of wearing his face and body. They would’ve been concerned about the half elf noticing their change in expression, but her eyes had long since rolled back and closed as waves of bliss took over.

She was…not the most exciting lover, but a different flavour was at least adding some variety at last. They continued to ride the tides of her pleasure, memorising every inch of her body inside and out, relishing how she responded to the slightest change in motion with sweet gasps and tensing muscles. Her form might even be fun to toy with, though whether Raphael would grant that was another matter entirely. 

—

The cambion gripped the sheets in his claws, tail wrapped around his aching length in a vain attempt to stem the sensations from the other room. He heard the pleasured cries echoing down the hall, just as much as he felt the woman’s other response in a ghosted grip, squeezing and tensing. He found his other hand reaching for the oil, drifting lower – if he had to endure this, he might as well feel satisfied. 

Sharp teeth worried at his lower lip as his inexperienced touch fumbled to find the ways he wanted to be touched, the ways he needed to be filled. Sweat clung to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut as he writhed upon the silks desperate to find relief from the slowly building pressure.

Raphael’s jaw clenched tightly, air sucked in through a hissed breath, cursing Haarlep’s name for making this so infuriatingly difficult. 

The contract might have changed the incubus more drastically, but its formation had clearly done something to him as well. Unthinkable, that such a creature would make him so desperately needy that his own clumsy fingers were already trying to find the centre of his desire. They made it seem far too easy… 

—

The encounter would have to end soon – it was becoming more challenging not to devour the woman’s entire desires like a glutton – but there was another taste in the air. A lust that did not belong to the gasping and moaning woman whose eyes could not stay open as pleasure itself consumed her. 

Haarlep’s gaze drifted to the door, wondering if the cambion would be so foolish as to walk right in during the middle of the act. Now that might make this interesting…yet no footsteps graced the halls, and it was time to end the game with their toy. 

Careful hands traced along Eida’s heated body, laying her down on the sheets where her chest still heaved with the effort of breathing. “Shhh Little Duck, you have proven yourself to be most wonderful~” Haarlep’s lies were sweeter than honey trickling into her ear as they brushed the errant curls clinging to the sweat on her face.

“Did I—” she began, trying to find what was left of her mind to form a single question, “did I do—”

“You played your part perfectly – rest now, you have earned it,” they laid a cool sheet over her body, bringing with it the permission to sleep. Haarlep should be more careful, this was almost too far…but they had what they wanted, what they needed – a new body to toy with. Yet it was another body that was drawing their attention, the scent of Raphael’s arousal drifting in the air like steam from a freshly cooked meal, beckoning them to discover the source. 

—

Raphael’s eyes were closed tightly, brows knit together in concentration, focus on a singular goal. It had slipped his notice that the ghosted double sensation had disappeared, so when he felt a claw against his cheek he was more than a little startled.

“Poor thing,” Haarlep crooned, soothing him quickly despite the strength with which their hand pressed his shoulder down to the bed to prevent him from rising, “and it was such a simple affair with that one too, to have you so riled up—”

“Silence, Harlot, you forget yourself,” he hissed through gritted teeth, anger flaring despite several of his fingers that had yet to leave their lustful work below, “this is not the Boudoir, you have no power here.” 

“And here I was thinking to help my poor Master find a little relief~” Haarlep made a dramatic show of looking utterly offended as they stood up and began to turn away. “Well, I shall return to my abode then, and leave you to—”

“Wait.” A weak voice for what should have been a strong command, Raphael could almost see their smirk spreading across the mirror of his lips despite the incubus still facing away from him. “I demand that you…you…” 

“That I what, Archduke?” The title added to the insult as so often it did, yet the cambion’s frayed nerves prevented him from further rebuking the incubus. “That I lay with you? That I show you far greater pleasures than the mortal that yet sleeps in your bed – quite thoroughly convinced that you took her yourself, I might add – and give you everything you keep denying yourself?” 

“No,” he shook his head, though almost regretted the decision as a flash of the deal’s formation crossed his mind, “not…entirely. Just your hands will suffice.” 

—

Haarlep licked their lips and considered the offer – they didn’t need to feed on him, this would be a mere dessert, a small mint after a meal in mortal terms. Perhaps it might warm him to the idea of more in the days that followed… Either way, doing the devil a favour would mean a debt owed for a later date. That was priceless. 

“Very well,” they made another dramatic show of sighing as they finally turned around, tail swishing lazily through the air behind them, “that should be more than enough to bring you a little relief to your problem.” 

Raphael was frowning again, small wrinkles forming where his brow met the bridge of his nose. “The problem, as well you know, is you and your deal—” 

“Our deal, lest you forget that part.” Haarlep climbed onto the bed again, picking up the oil and slicking both hands thoroughly. “The details of which you were well aware of when we both signed. If you’d rather, I could use my own form, or that of another, for your clients—” “No.” Raphael snapped, even as he withdrew his fingers from his quivering hole. “I will simply have to grow accustomed to the particulars…” 

“Then I suggest you make more arrangements to that effect. That,” they began to slide a single claw inside him, breathing in the taste of his lust as he arched into the simple touch, “will make this much easier for you.” 

The cambion bit his lip a moment, taking a grip of the silk sheets in balled fists as Haarlep began to ease him open to their ministrations. He seemed almost lost in his thoughts for a minute, before voicing them aloud. “Have you had an arrangement like this before?” 

Haarlep might have been offended at the casual conversation whilst teasing the cambion’s body, but the question was at least one that entertained them. “One where I take the form of my Master and plunge my fingers deep within his body?” 

A snarl began to form on Raphael’s face at the blunt terms, yet the expression was driven quickly back by a curl of fingers finding their target. Almost too easy…

“No, I can’t say that I have,” they continued, as their other hand took hold of his length, grip sliding from base to tip as they talked as casually as one might over drinks with an acquaintance. “I have, naturally, taken the forms of others and allowed them to share the pleasures of the connection between us, but never to pose as them entirely.”

—

Raphael struggled to keep his focus as he listened to Haarlep’s reply, and the lines carefully unspoken between their words. He had never given much thought to the particulars of incubi and their kind, yet that had also never been necessary. Even as they brought him carefully to a climax that frayed the edges of his consciousness, their tail winding around his wrist almost supportively as he sought something to ground him, the thoughts persisted.

The incubus gave little away, working quietly now to clean them both with a hot scented cloth – a pool might need to be added to this room, too, if this were to become a common occurrence. Their tail remained on his arm, a soft pressure, a welcome warmth as he allowed himself room for more quiet contemplation through pleasure’s sweet afterglow.

Sex was clearly different for Haarlep, more akin to food and necessity than simple pleasure for pleasure’s sake alone, nor was it a piece on the Lanceboard table or chip to trade for a contract. To satisfy them – in any sense of the word – would be no easy task. Their presence as they lay next to him on the bed, sated, it seemed, for now, he found himself appreciating their weight beside him. A notion he swiftly dismissed as one brought about by the aftermath of the climax and nothing more, yet he did nothing to ask them to leave.

—

The silence was comfortable for a while, though the questions had been an unexpected needle to Haarlep’s memories. Mephistopheles may have stripped them of name and identity, but their recollections were entirely intact. 

“Why did you agree to it?” They finally broke the stillness of the air with a question of their own, turning their head to observe the cambion’s reaction as he remained seemingly transfixed by some particularly interesting point on the ceiling. “This part of the deal hardly seems to be your preference.” 

Raphael’s free hand pushed the loose strands of hair back from his forehead as he replied. “Only a fool ignores a potential advantage when it strolls into his home.” 

“An advantage?” Haarlep laughed, taking mock offence at the suggestion. “And here I thought we were partners in a favourable deal~”

“An advantageous alliance then,” Raphael was clearly carefully avoiding acknowledging a partnership, “for as long as you prove yourself to be useful.” 

Another needle from his words, but this time to their pride. The prick stung, and they released his wrist, withdrawing their tail from his grasp. “I should say the same of you,” they turned away, wings curling around their body as if to shield themselves from any further spikes from his lips, “lest you forget my other contract and all it promised.” 

—

Raphael sighed. They were right, he should be more careful how he treated them - careless words could sign a warrant for his head from his own infernal father. He glanced down at his now empty hand, no crimson tail within his fingers, nothing but a chasm of space in the mere few inches between the two. 

“Haarlep,” he began, noting how their wings twitched at the use of the name he had given instead of the insulting rhyme he most often used now, “you have my word, you will find my contract far more rewarding than anything that arrogant bastard could ever offer. Selling you so cheaply was his mistake, and one I will not be repeating.” 

Silence followed, but it mattered little. There was no need to reply, all that was required was patience – something that was common amongst devils like himself with millennia of lifespan to allow plans to come to fruition. This was just one more brick in the foundation. 

Rather than trying to shuffle beneath the covers, a swift spell brought a fresh sheet to cover them both as Raphael decided that there was little point fighting the fatigue spreading through every fibre of his being. The debtor would attend to the guest asleep in the boudoir later, shuffling her back where she belonged so she could play her part in time. Just another brick. 

It wasn’t until morning, however, that Raphael noticed the tail wrapped around his leg – though in truth it was a little less obvious than the horns resting against his head as the incubus had curled up against him, wings around them like a cloak.

- - ENDING NOTES - - The next chapter is coming soon! Already halfway written as we dive into what lays behind a certain incubus' closed eyelids in the time that passes for "night" in Avernus~ and of course Raphael can only avoid sleeping with them fully for so long...

[the-muppet-watch]

The rot cult

This is just a post archiving what i find on the rot cult the muppet joker (called Kermit throughout this) moved in with

The four "members"/ people who live in what I'm calling "the rot house" are: Athena (the leader of the cult), Sage (the first member), Milton (the second member), and of course Kermit (the clown prince of crime himself).

From Sage and Miltons blogs it is confirmed that they are siblings. Milton states that him and Sage met in a hospital, and that his parents are dead. Sage states that "Our parents aren't dead" and called meeting in the hospital is "a weird way to phrase it" (Im not directly looking at the posts so these aren't word for word).

Sage does state that he met Athena on deviantart. Milton moved in later after being kicked out of/ left their cousins house who he was staying with after his parents kicked him out. Milton, however, is extremely vague when posting so it is hard to tell what he truly means in some situations. It also seems he is deep into the cult due to claiming that he "needs to be punished" and claiming that it isn't a cult or an abusive situation.

The sleeping arrangements goes as follows: Athena gets the only bed with four out of six of the blankets (the other two are earned by the top two members of the house). Kermit sleeps under Athenas bed and has conformed the blanket arrangements on his first night there. Sage sleeps on the couch but has proved that the sleeping arrangements can switch when Athena has been made upset, proven by when Milton got the couch after Sage broke something of Athenas. Milton sleeps in the closet which "The Rot" has been stored.

On one of Kermits blog posts he posted an image of a glass with what looked like it had left over blood in it. he later found what could be blood vials. Milton has responded to asks questioning him if he was anemic do to him posting about him being extremely woozy at times, and Athena has posted responding to an ask saying "Milton > Sage" to which she responded "Only in the terms of blood flavor" (around the 25 july 2024). She has many posts about being a vampire and has even banned Italian food from the home due to it having many recipes that include garlic.

A reddit post was posted by a neighbor titled "WIBTA if i told property management about my smelly neighbors?" where I will post about more in depth later but for now I am just using it for some basic information. Using this post we can definitively know it is an apartment due to the update claiming "The bad news is that the smell is now coming through the vents, and we had to turn off the ac to air out the apartment." the op also states "This usually isn't a problem, but in recent weeks I've noticed the smell of death coming from their door and a fly problem which is slowly becoming a me problem at my place of residence." He goes into some detail on their Tumblr accounts after Athena which he calls A gives hers, Sage's and Milton's accounts to him and inviting him to join the coven.

The reddit post and the Kermit plush rescue arc has also brought to mosts attention that Sage is the only one with a car. Kermit asked Sage to drive him to his moms house believing to have left him there and was planning a break in. he was unaware that Sage didn't have any obligation to drive him back as stated in the house rules Kermit seemed to be unaware of at the time and had to walk back kermitless. Milton has also claimed multiple times that even though they have an etsy shop they do not get the money do to Sage managing thee money.

This part of what I am calling "The Rot Saga" seems to be heating up with Kermit learning that the Kermit plushie was put in the rot for days on end and from what i can see from the blogs from when I am typing this, has most likely to have been burned. Kermit has stated he has stabbed Gerard Way out of Athenas body and I'll wait for more info before writing about any of it.

I also want to add in a theory that the black mold found by Kermit recently is causing some of the things in the house to happen. We don't have much if any indication of how long the mold has been there (I'm not a mold expert), if Athena lived there before the mold showed up, or if she held the beliefs before the mold showed up. However black mold is dangerous and I wouldn't be surprised if it is contributing to all the issues.

I'll try to write more as more things happen.