#not surprising but just. eugh.

[fishyartist]

i think its really funny that i was having Valerie blorbo thoughts and instead of writing or drawing or w/e im reading essays on ethics and transhumanism

[fruitpunchjollyrancher]

i have this post in my drafts about how people only like acknowledging mental illness or disability when they think it's funny (didnt post because im scared and its also not through the lens of fiction lol) but that just reminds me of jean a lot, like he loves to call harry insane, a drunk, a bum, shitkid, a psycho, a cretin when he means to demean him, but then will refuse to help harry because he says he's lying about the amnesia (or being sober if you choose to be sober) and that it's actually all his fault and a moral failure to be mentally ill and an addict

[p0rk-guts]

Soooo. Was Poppy Playtime Chapter 3 a fluke or

[seventh-district]

again and again i find myself lamenting that audio roleplay isn't taken more seriously by some people. like yeah, they often have a romantic element, and by nature they usually directly involve/address the listener- and i totally get that those things aren't to everyone's taste. no art or entertainment is universally appealing, and that's okay! but.. it still makes me a lil sad that the "cringe" reputation of asmr/audio rp precedes it. there's a whole lot of talent and creativity being poured into these audios by so many people that i feel goes unrecognized and/or disrespected simply due to the medium that the stories are being told through.

[icebrooding]

oh the terrors i would have had if mordremoth's body looked like it did in the trailer

this shit is nightmare inducing (pun not intended—)

[zincbot]

it really is like:

I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T I CAN'T I CAN'T

okay nevermind i'm fine

[alongtidesoflight]

i love how aggressively river no homo's you when you try to kiss him as male v

[airbenderedacted]

deathstar shippers stop going out of ur way to tell me you hate dominator being a lesbian and that you’re homophobic asf challenge (impossible, apparently)

[cocolacola]

i had to spend such a long time researching what vernacular existed in the 1940s just so i could see if alucard could reasonably say this

[siennaditbot]

Here's a random take:

'Ore' is the most attractive pronoun in Japanese.

'Boku' is pretty close, though. And I have a soft spot for 'oresama' characters, too, but idk if real people use it.

It's just that characters who use 'ore' are 👌🏻 I love the boyish charm it adds? Wikipedia says it "establishes a sense of masculinity".

I just

Eugh

I love voices and the pronoun adds to it :>

[certified-boyliker]

Eurgh

I... hate... reading... fem!reader things...

gah, I think I just got shivers from something that honed in on the reader being a girl

[nmakii]

GETTING CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT… LIPSTICK ON YOUR FACE

— alastor + lucifer + vox getting caught with lipstick stains all over them…

— generally gn!reader. guys can wear lipstick too smh

hehe i got a new lip tint (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) maybe alastor’s part is a little self-projected

— alastor

alastor himself isn’t one for physical affection. in fact, the thought itself makes him feel dirty. someone else’s skin against his… eugh…

though, when it came to you, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself; hands clawing and playing with your hair, wrapping his arms around your neck, pinching your cute cheeks, holding your hand… it’s almost as if he’d double-die without you near!

and the only thing he’d enjoy more than that would be having his affection reciprocated; interlocking your arm with his, a surprise hug from behind, a kiss on the cheek, they are all more than appreciated! especially the thing about kissing…

a kiss from you is simply just exhilarating. the suddenness yet sweetness of it, it’s truly the purest form of love, regardless of if it’s familial, romantic, or platonic— it’s the purest expression of your love for another person.

so, just imagine alastor’s reaction to your new lipstick, strawberry red to give your lips a glossy color, yet still light enough to appear natural. the pretty hue of red complimenting your face features perfectly by giving it the color it needs as to not appear pale.

absolutely gorgeous. so confusing how a simple amount of color could make you look as if you were an angel from heaven itself. you quite literally took his breath away from just applying a new lipstick…

at some point, alastor had reached some sort of limit when he finally caved into his inner desires, bringing you to a secluded place in the hotel, his hands moving to your hips and hair.

he couldn’t wait any longer to place his lips on your’s, your lipstick smearing all over his thin lips. kissing him from his cheeks to his jawline, leaving light pink stains all over his skin.

he groaned at the feeling of wet lipstick all over his face, and at the same time reveled in the ways you are telling everyone that the only one who could see the radio demon in such a needy and doe-like state would be you; he’d be yours to fool around with, and yours to do however you’d see fit. just as you are his— no one else’s. the smeared lipstick on the side of your lips should send that as a statement enough to whatever lowlife hooligan would even attempt to sweep you off your feet.

when the two of you had returned, it was a strange sight to say the least… alastor’s face and jaw covered with pink lips, and you with your lipstick smudged and smeared off your lips, instead all over you neck.

“well, uh… you two look like ‘ya had lot’sa fun…” angel said monotonously, awkwardly trying to keep up conversation. “ohh, most certainly!” alastor grinned, his transatlantic accent popping through the radio static.

he knows he could’ve wiped it off… he has a handkerchief in his back pocket, he could’ve easily saved himself that awkward conversation.

but, he didn’t.

could you blame him? he wants all of hell to know that both you and him off-limits for good.

— lucifer

when many imagine the king of hell, it’s hard to think he’d be a social piranha. the same case had gone for you.

who knew lucifer was still as pure of heart as he was during his time in heaven? and who knew he’d fall for someone so easily after the sudden disappearance of his wife?

when he saw you, it was practically love at first sight! your big eyes, your shiny hair, and those big pretty lips of yours that he just wanted to kiss so badly…

he listened carefully as charlie introduced you to him, trying to remember every detail about you and every feature on your face, stuttering over his words once it was time to speak for himself.

and somehow, despite his meekness towards you and your awkwardness whenever he was around, you two ended up in a relationship— with the help of vaggie and charlie’s meddling in pushing you two together.

the two of you loved each other, of course… but it was always hard to express. the only way lucifer knew how to show his love was through his presence and gifts. he wasn’t hell’s greatest kisser, but he tries.

and, today— it was your 5 month anniversary… quite a long time, the hotel’s been good so far, no major threats other than one of cherri bomb’s occasional explosions. and because of how long it’s been, you decided to do something a little special… put on some relatively expensive clothes and make-up your face a little bit.

when lucifer saw you all dolled up, he was honestly a little stunned. lips as red as an apple, hair as soft as silk, the words were stuck in his mouth. “w- er- wow..! i’m not dressed up or anything— agh, this is awkward..” lucifer muttered. “hey, it’s ok… this was a surprise for you, y’know?” you said, comforting him slightly.

“you look… stunning today” he smiled, carefully putting down his anniversary present for you on his work desk, still wrapped in a red ribbon. he made his way to you, hands making their way to your cheeks to softly cup them as he gently leaned into you for a kiss.

he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you kissed his face all over, as if healing the wounds of his past with his present. his banishment into hell, lilith’s abandonment, they all didn’t matter anymore, you are the present and the future.

he wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug as he kissed your forehead, the residual lipstick from his lips smeared onto you.

lucifer laughed awkwardly before using his finger to carefully rub off the pink stains on your forehead. “haha… c’mon, i got a dinner reservation in the lust ring tonight…” he laughed, interlocking his arm with yours.

“don’t you wanna take off that lipstick on your face first?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “i mean… i dont minddd… so, it’s only if you wanna take if off” his eyes wandered, his cheeks growing flustered “hmm… nah. i want everyone to know you belong to me now.” you grinned mischievously.

and when the two of you walked out of the hotel lobby, charlie went to wish you a safe trip and happy anniversary before she noticed the stains on her dad’s face. “err… dad..? you gotta a little something there…” charlie muttered as she pointed all over his face. “ah..? yeah, i know” he laughed it off, proudly showing off to hell how hopelessly devoted he is to you.

— vox

vox was a busy man. from having many public appearances, to coming up with new ideas for voxtek, to putting out valentino’s temper tantrums, he barely had the time for romance.

barely. he loved you, truly. he keeps you dear to his heart, no matter how busy he’d be, vox would still make time for you late at night.

everyone had known you, why wouldn’t they? you’re the partner of one of the most influential overlords in hell, that’s a feat that is amazing to accomplish, dating vox in itself has made you into a sort of local celebrity; causing you to be invited to many galas, parties, and occasional raves.

and tonight happened to be the night of one of those parties. zestial had invited you to a formal dinner party, an all star guest list filled by many of the goetic princes, various overlords in hell, and other local hellborns such as verosika mayday.

“please, voxxx? just this once, it’s only like 3 hours!” you grumble as your apply a coat of ruby red over your lips, checking your appearance in the bathroom mirror. “i can’t.. i have a 5:00 with val and velvette, then after that, a board meeting about new gadgets to release…” vox groaned, already pissed about the day ahead.

“fine then, your loss.” you pouted, rolling your eyes as you left the bathroom and into the bedroom. “holy shit…” vox sighed out. “you look… really good, my love.” he walked over to you, his hands moving to your body, outlining the clothes’ stitching as he recognized it to be the one he had custom-made for you.

your hands rested on vox’s shoulders, forcibly making him lean over a bit before leaving various kiss stains all over his screen.

vox visibly tensed as his screen started glowing a bright teal, showing his clear embarrassment as pink smudges fogged his screen.

his breath heaved as his hands moved all around your body, desperate to find some kind of relief to his pent-up stress.

ending your kiss attack all too soon on his lips, you pulled away, your lips slightly pale now as you grinned at him. “spend the day looking like that and i’ll give you more after work” you winked, taking your belongings and leaving out the door, leaving a flustered vox in your bedroom, covered with lipstick stains.

“vox… the fuck is going on with your face?” velvette snarled. “it looks as if you got fucking mauled by a bear pretending to be a woman.” she yelled, her british accent making her trip over some consonants.

vox sighed, hearing valentino mutter some sort of dirty comparison of vox to a prostitute. “instead of focusing on me, why don’t you put your efforts into our agenda today?” vox frowned, his tone clearly saying that he’s holding himself back from releasing a flood of curses onto the two…

[chilltamago]

Here I go getting on my computer

I click upon Tumblr and quickly open another tab to start something else up while the other finishes loading

Upon finishing the other tab fiddling, I look back to dear ol Tumblr. But lo an behold I gaze upon something different. Something unsettling and unfamiliar staring back at me

I was stunned for a moment. Eyes frantically looking for the tabs in the upper right as I normally do, but they were no longer there.

Gone, i thought.

Gazing around, fear and confusion building up thinking I had accidentally crawled back to an eX site that was trying to add red shoes with the red round nose and lips they started to don.

My optics finally fall upon the url and there... there it confirmed my disbelief. I was, indeed, on Tumblr.

So

When the fuck did this happen? Hello? I go to Starbucks and come back and just what

Literally, I got myself a chai latte cause my throat was being weird and

huh. alright I suppose

[astralnymphh]

fuck and pretend ౨ৎ

𖤐 .ellie williams with a breeding kink⊱.

౨ৎ "gon' make you a baby mama, hm?" 🌸

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

⋆' summary; bright blessings, aphrodite. hazy harbor of your lust, loose ribbons, and smooth touch. a strawberry sun kisses the earth with its sunset, a gradient so divinely captured above your picket fence visible from the kitchen window. a front row seat to dusk settling as you get fucked, the soppy wet clashing of your loins erupts. ellie, with her goddess given right, will knock you the hell up.

⋆' cw; dom!ellie, horndog!ellie, farm!ellie, breeding kink obv, depictions of cum + spit + nipple play + slight food play + spanking + fondiling + very slight lactation kink + rough mannerisms + dirty talk + rough talk + cum kink-ish + gentle dominance + cocktip teasing + strap sex + fingering (r, barely) + finger sucking + multiple positions (bent over, on the counter) , 'her cock' used more than 'strap', some plot + backstory, very detailed descriptions of fucking, smut heavy, reader has fem style/wears skirt, petnames; babe, baby, mama(kinda), slut, whore(not in dialogue), bitch(not in dialogue)

⋆' pairing; farm!ellie x housewife!reader

⋆' a/n; i'm horny. ⋆' wc: 6.7k ellie's masterlist 𖤐

a brilliant orb in the sky permeates a hot singe to your skin, making a day meant for mundane mutilation of vegetable roots drinking up the rich soil, dreadful. oh how you longed to be inside with your girlfriend, ellie, the rufescent headed mutt that pawed you to take a break, on the bed, in her lap. 'later, baby.', you just had to say that. but no, you just had to work, huh? the autumn sun bearing tidings of a good harvest just had to sing an enchanting tune, lulling you to the outdoors.

a heap of green already lines your wheelbarrow, a yelling chance to dip and jump into ellie's arms, who ensconces her bottom to the pleasures of a springy sofa in the family room, scribbling away matters that clot her noggin. oh, it would be so divine to just die of exhaustion in her grasp, straddling that tepid lap beckoning a cozy seat, melding your fingertips with the tense ache that mantles her neck, while she lewdly palpates the chub fat of your ass she deems 'a cute tush' with those strapping hands of hers.

"fuck it." the barrows handles drop to the grassy ground, giving the produce in the basin a bit of a bumpy ride.

the most salivating notion wins, food, fucking food. you burst into that kitchen with a sugar craving, a hellacious craving that puppeteers your fingers to fondle the beige flour into a meshy dough, powdering up your fingertips til it caked under your nail. eugh. 

 a strawberry and cream pastry of crispy golden beige delight is your end goal, pictured to be a celestial five star treat in your rather delusive fantasies. the butts of ruby strawberries stabbed through as you pull the stems out, gleaming juices of a translucent pink coating up your fingers so sweetly, you just had to pop them in your mouth. sucking all that flavor off, like a fuckin' lollipop.

you drift your finger out clean, a long smack squeaking from your lips, and then hum in rumination, "hmm, lemons– or no lemons? lemons.. or no lemons?" quietly spoken, tossing your eyes between a ripe lemon and the pulped strawberry.

"no lemons," ellie, bearing the element of surprise, intrudes on your introspection. speaking with a low, coarse timbre, pitch breathy, "hi babe." her body is then suddenly pressed into your backside, hand slithering down your hip and caressing your pantyhose– clad thigh gently. 

"oh shit– ellie!" you yelp, instinctively pushing your rump back on her groin devoid of purpose, "ya' spooked me.." a throaty whine thrums from you.

"nah– u're just easily spooked." her brows pinch opposingly, slowly creeping her jaw in the cornered nook of your neck, parched lips nipping the flesh with summery hot licks.

"hehe– that tickles.." you jerk away slightly from her scruffy tuft of coppery hair like a plume stroking your skin.

a smile grows pliable against your skin, "good.." muffled ellie, wet smacks eliciting from her hungry latch.

"bored of ur' journal?"

"uh–huh.."

"or just happy that I'm here?"

"mhm.." she dozily agrees, slinking her head off your scruff, "missed you' out there."

"oh, i bet." you frolick kittenly, snatching up the same strawberry you pulped through earlier to cut it, "got fucking tired of hauling that barrow 'round anyway." you complain, speaking with discernable strain in your tune.

"hmm." she hums in consideration, worried about the amount of work you lug on your shoulder from a day–to–day basis, "l'mme help." 

her fingers cottonly twine through yours, biceps hugging yours, chin perched softly upon your neck, taking both the strawberry and knife from you and cutting it deftly, chhp, chhhp, chop!– goes the sound of buttery slices.

you slump your head aside, just relishing the warmth for a moment, at genuine peace that your girlfriend was there. she was so soft with you, softer than petals, gently domineering at any split mention of fatigue. laying the midday away on the couch? joins you instantly, pressing and kneading the tender skin of your swollen feet while discussing more than humdrum topics. stomach rumbling loud enough to raise the dead? she immediately rounded the kitchen's trim to cook you a plethora of meals, taking every picky craving into heavy consideration. indecisive about your outfit? she would glide an oaken chair up to the dresser, plant you on her lap– in your undergarments, and choose what she personally fancies, sneaky hand groping your thigh.

"there you go." she mutters ardent to your shoulder with throaty rasp, knife clanking as she sets it aside.

"thanks baby.."

"n'problem.." her lips fumble the words, settling on bespattering the biome of your stretched neck with wet kisses– subtly hungry ones, and reposes her arms to slink over your hips, enticing them closer into her groin.

you scoop one pile of diced strawberries into the gullies of both palms, letting them plummet into a plastic green mixing bowl, plop.. plop, humming a tune, "hmmmm…hhmhmmm…" 

you hear her chuckle, a small vibration amassing the length of your skin with an accompanied smile growing.

"you laughin' at my song?"

"mhh, that's not a song." she criticizes, lips pursing into a bud.

"hmph, rude." you circle your eyes in offense, faintly swaying your hips while you pestle the fruit into a sweet puree.

her hips react and ungulate a sluggish grind into your rump, acting impassive to it, "s'bored.." she croaks, clammy forehead sticking to your jaw.

"hmm?"

she doesn't clarify, instead, begins to nick your neck with pinched lips, letting the skin gingerly spring out each time. her hips, however, grow rough– wanton. little bounces of her humps smush your thighs into the counter, mind clearly anchored in her imagination.

"els?"

her relentless chafing continues, piling up the fabric of your skirt into a creased mess which only gets worse when her hand wedges between your bodies, palming her crotch with a few squeezes, "mhhn.." 

your fingers nearly slip off the pestle, the stimuli of her humps withering away that poise calmness, "baby.." you whine.

"so, so– bored, baby." her grubby mitts fall and knead the shallow flesh of your hip bones, applying detectable pressure in the crevice beneath your hip bone. smutty, balmy prints sunk into your skin.

this fucking horndog, this auburn maned lovergirl could never let you rest on a busy afternoon like today. all the time, she was just pleading for pussy– pussywhipped, grinding her pelvis on your thigh amidst cuddling, to nudging your butt against her groin with both hands, whenever you bend over. you can hear the indecencies boiling on her wicked tongue right about now, pleading for a tryst.

a long suspire whorls from your nostrils as you turn in her embrace, nudging her fervid laps off.

she pouts a petulance, wet lips sheer in the frosty panes light, "why'd you move?"

"talk t'me," wisped sweet like honey, "what's on your mind?" you lace your fingers with hers, swinging your linked hands side to side playfully.

she pours a groan out, screwing her lids tight and throwing her head back, "baaabbee.." ellie was plagued, at minimum. lewdly plagued. a notion that topped her mind and wouldn't let go.

you thought it was, temptingly cute. the way she reels her head back down, jarring her weary eyes open to beadily gaze upon you, lips parting moistly.

"i have this.." a sharp gust waves off her throat, humbled to even say this, "dirty fuckin' idea.."

"enlighten me."

"i just think.." her eyes deviate from yours, staring at the cupboard, "you'd be really hot as a mama." a hint of smokiness grits in her voice, gazing at you with the most haunting bedroom eyes known to womankind.

"oh really? that's illuminating." you knit your brows, feigning marvel.

"tcch–" her textured lips creak into a cresten grin, hissing shortly, "like.." her fingers flee yours, drifting two brawny grips on your waistline, inching closer with each idea she lists, "i could take care of you, start baths for you, cook you meals and carry you to–"

you intervene gently, "you say it like you can get me pregnant." and laxly cross your arms.

her forehead creases in offense, "uh, i mean," and eyes barrel roll to the ceiling, then on you, chiseling a smirk opulent with smutty intention, "don't need a baby t'do.. whatever."

"whatever?" your tune curls.

"could just.." she pulls your groin snug to hers, pelvis protruding farther than her torso, thighs melding together, "fuck, and pretend." 

you blush, mouth gaping in muted elation observing the way she pushes her crotch into you, "so foul.." you giggle.

"so?" a hand lifts from your hip, notching your chin firmly up to face her, "can i convince you?"

"how?"

an absolutely mischievous look casts over her features at that 'how?' , prominent dimples that plot her next words to flow out.

"here," she releases your chin and swipes a grip on your wrist, jerking you forward as she tugs that hand between her legs, "feel that, baby?" whispering a fingerbreadth away, toasty breath misting like perspiration on your earlobe.

you palpate the inseam, knobbing over a phallic bulge with her hand guiding you. oh my goddess, she's been wearing that shit all day.

"can i fuck y'with it, hmm?" she begs, voice drenched with silken clemency, and leathery callousness– control awaiting your word, lips of coquetry avid to your ear.

truth of the matter, at the back of her perv–diluted noggin, she knows she can't exactly get you pregnant. however, that's the hidden perk nobody talks about. play the part, make it feel real, and it still sticks the same. she can fuck you over, and over– and over again, sow her seed and never reap the physical consequences.

that girl can pretend well.

you feel the heat clump on your cheeks, turned on by her forthright request, "here?" you question foxily, feeling the excitement slowly trickle through your loins.

"yeah– right on this fuckin' counter." unfiltered and dirty, so suddenly, so tantalizing. her hands pitch up and draw upon your skin like a woven page, lurking the entire span of both arms around your hips.

"god, els.." you cling your arms around her nape, chest pressing firmly on hers, "i'd fucking love that." 

her face lit up brighter than all the stars combined. reclining brows, smug–smothered eyes, and the most uneven smirk to ever jerk her lips. a brightness– so carnal.

"yes.." sounded so relieved in her breathy mutter, wetting her chapped lips before she slinks onto yours, dragging hers over the plush of your buds with a passion.

"mhh..mh.." you moan onto her lips, pushing with tantamount force to her hungry kisses.

a wet smack snaps the huddled space as she parts, "can taste those strawberries, ooh~" she huskily frisks with arching brows, returning to your lips with a pucker and slobber.

all during your tepid makeout eggs you both on, pink muscles entwining, mouths nearly trying to swallow each other up, bodies rocking like a ship riding the tide– her willowy digits tuck under the fat of your asscheeks, groping and pulling the two globes apart in rounded circles tight enough to cleft the chub with creases, frilly fabric of your skirt snagging on the ridge of her bouncing palms.

"love' this cute tush." she states with a satisfied scratch in her voice, a deep laugh gusting onto your lips.

"a fuckin' slut for it huh?" 

"yeah baby!" she halfway hollers into your mouth, gripping your asscheeks like crab claws and giving a good shake– featherlike slap included.

you buck your ass out for her usage, urged to wave your hips in a figure eight motion, which she really likes, too much maybe. a booming smack! resounds the kitchen as her hand draws back to indulge a harsher slap, rubbing the red streak left in its path.

you yelp throatily, spitting from her avid lips, "fuck! ellie.."

"hey– c'm back here." her head follows your retreating one, plastering your mouth sealed and tongue–fucking you with that pushy muscle worming past your teeth.

her horny ass just kept spanking both cheeks, which triggered a proud "mmm.. mhm…" to intone on your lips as you jolt in reaction, caressing the flush heat gathered by each whack.

"more?"

"ghhnn– elli.."

"fuckin' take more." she veers that hand back and lands another blow, creeping over your shoulder to perv at the nylon–confined skin. right, your pantyhose.

you tuck and bat your lashes in the crook of her neck, whining right into the ears eager to hear you break.

but, she couldn't do that with all this fabric, could she now?

"nice.. but.." her grubby claws then prod the cloaked crack of your ass, a shrill ripping through the air as she tears a massive hole in your pantyhose– wholly for better access, now exposing your full behind.

you quench a lapse in your throat, "oh, my god." and peek over to eyeball the torn material, noticing how discolored your butt has become and poking your hip out.

"hurt too much?"

"n–no.." you swallow again, reverting your pupils to her, "hurts just right.."

she smirks merry to one cheek, hollowing an alto, "makes' you a dirty fucking slut, amiright?" spoken on a crescendo, second–guessing with her lips gravitating back to yours, but she pauses.

it dawned on her.

something even more impure tethers her attention, down– down, on that chest of yours.

the rustiling of fabric chafes as her hands slide from torturing that delicate rump further, then splutters, "take ur' fuckin' tits out, 'gunna suck on them." just straight up, stern edge like metal to her tone.

no hesitation hurdles your hands, straying from her neck you pleat your shirt over your head and stretch back to unclasp your bra with a pinch, letting it tumble off your chest and hit the ground with a padded thud. the gale of cold air hardens your nipples, perking up two nice targets for ellie to ogle– both in sight, and in taste.

a sweet– tart taste. 

"hmm," ellie's pupils wander off your drooped chest and fixate on the separate dish of intact strawberries, glowing pink in the dying suns' radiance. her elbows straighten and forearm extends towards these gems of interest, scooping one up with her thumb, index and middle combined.

"what are you doing with my–"

"shh, just watch." her prudent fingers then toughen and squash the berry above your clavicle, letting the barmy pink liquids squeeze through her knuckles and drip onto your chest.

a gasp dries your throat, "ellie!"

a few mashed bits plunk down amongst the heavy fall of berry juices, managing to drizzle down the rise of your breast and split over your nipple. mission success? though now the victim strawberry– squelched to a gross chunk, makes a home chucked into the handy trash bin.

ellie licks her lips and stares dead straight on your hardened nipples. itching for a taste of that strawberry deluge.

"fuck.." her throat quivers, taking no time in searing the distance between her tongue and your breast promptly with a hunched back, bringing her heart–shaped pucker to the strawberry–saturated nub and locking on, sucking hard, making you jerk. ellie definitely has a thing for this.

"was wasting that strawberry– mhhf'– worth it?" you sport a quip quickly, the small vacuum sensation on your nipples only just starting to nip that pleasure kernel in your brain.

it definitely was. cause ellie had already vampire–suckled all the flavor off your bud, now snaking her tongue up the excess stream of juices and retreating back. those juice–coated lips squelch open, muttering, "so' fucking worth it." 

so fucking worth the lady boner penned behind that zinc rivet.

her lips wrinkle around your other nipple, opening and closing her mouth around the bud with a slow nutate of her head. inside her mouth was so warm, so wet, and the fleshy texture of her lips felt fucking riveting. the stimulated twang of salacity brought in the form of sucks and licks has your pussy sappy and caked in precum, and ellie could tell how wet you've gotten by the yearning chafe of your thighs, so she forcefully wedges her knee there– making you grunt at the pressure, and her giggle at your response.

you card your fingers through her hairline, fondling her autumn tuft while she sucks that swelling nipple dry, causing an 'mmhhh.' to vibrate from the depths of her lungs, guttural on your boob. one of her hands rove up and cusps the same boob against the webbing of her thumb and pointer, squeezing the blubber of mass further into her wet rosy hole– like she's genuinely sucking something out of them– thirsty, her parched tongue laps a gloss of gleaming saliva over the bumpy node, determined to have you unravel.

"oh, els.. baby~" you tug on her hair, piqued by the blossoming ache in your clit raring for ellie to just get on with it.

"mhhpghmm.." her lips suction with a pop, roads of ruby red mottled on her cheeks from your angle. so eager to toy with that forming arousal, but with persuasive control.  "s'this convincing enough?"

you toss your head back, extending the curved surface of your neck, "i'm already convinced.." you gasp for air, surfing a breathless moan behind the carry of your voice.

another pop sound has her lips wandering up from that sensitive bump and craning to your lips, taking advantage of the situation. her fantasies overrun that dirty mind of hers, aching mentally– and physically, to have that pussy engulfing her thickset cock. to fuck you raw. fortunate for her, you were already won over by the rough terrain of her tongue setting you over the edge.

"m'kay baby.." her humid syllables shudder over the span of your midface, promptly, churning into a demanding growl. "turn around, n' bend over the counter. doin' it right here, c'mon." her words usher you and fingers force you, contorting your hips with her steely grip without even giving you the chance to move yourself, other hand reaching over to knock the bowl of strawberries– now scattered across the tiles like the starry sky.

you wobble around on your ankles as she bucks you into the counters' rounded steel rim, laying her palm plumb between your shoulder blades and pinning you down, pitching a yelp from you when the cold surface practically freezes your nipples.

that's when you realized, she wasn't playing around.

ellie's spindly fingers pleat your skirt up with a swat, then drift down to catch and tuck in the lacy band of your panties and tug hard, pulling the thread to the point of frayed snapping– without giving you a wedgie– until she could remove it from your hips through the hole in your pantyhose, chucking it somewhere east of you. now she could gape at everything. the bare truth of your engorged pussy rearing for her, splayed out like a whore. nuder than an amaretto.

and it made her giggle in gratification, lugging that adams apple around with her wheezy laugh.

"look at 'chu bent over like this," she gruffily awes at your ass jacked to her hips, golfing up a 'hawwkkk' and a 'puh!' as she aims a spit down the crack of your ass. 

it streamlines through the canyon of your backside 'til it mixes with the slick of your slit. can't let it go to waste, so– she jams the soapy spit into your hole, to which you clamp her in.

a jerky chuckle croaks from her chest, rustiling her mullet with each jounce, "sensitive now, are we?"

"ellie–" 

"okay, okay– i'll stop." she slides her fingers out, popping them in her mouth while she observes you from this lewd position.

in the sorbet light, you were gorgeous. cunt dripping nectar like a waterfall to your thighs, ass hiked up and sloping into the plateau of your back. you looked so perfect. perfect for her hands to melt into. perfect for her cock to sheathe into. just divine. positively divine.

"alright.." her voice rattles deep, slightly muted in a gulp after tasting your cunt on her tongue, swishing her spit around to pick up every note of flavor.

moments later, you hear the metal clank of a buckle jingle from behind, the prongs strike the floor as her jeans clump up at the base of her ankles, blanketing her feet. then, a silicone tip slots it's bulbous nature between the top of your thighs, smacking up onto your slickened labia playfully.

"god– it's like a fuckin' waterpark back here babe."

her feet scoot closer, poking the chub of your globes with her jutting hip crests, enraptured in the pure way your folds already look like they want to swallow her up. they faintly part as the silicone cockhead smears your arousal from clit to hole, hole to clit. a half–moon smile dilates into the apples of her cheeks, prideful. a smirk you can hear loud and clear in her dirty, outrageous comment. 

"gonna knock that pussy up, hmm? gonna fuck a pair of twins in you so good baby~" she coos, delirious seeing the head of her cock slosh around the fat lips of your pussy, grooving two concentrated lines between her brows and wagging her peachy muscle wedged in her lips. she was like a devil in heaven, and you an angel in heat. two strapping grips slap and clutch onto your ass, the fat bulging through each finger gap, calloused fingertips blending with the texture. her knees bend to crouch her hips slightly, dragging the hem of her brown button–down up by the protrusion of your ass as she aligns her frame level to your cunt. one hand drops down to catch hold of the faux cock and toys the rim of your gummy hole, sinking the head in just barely.

your sensitive entrances' involuntary answer to this scant plugging of your hole clenches the tip up fast, sucking it further in. ellie loved that. loved how your pussy was taking her without a halt. a love so dazing, she begins slipping and inserting the head only, eyeing the contracting hole gorging over the rotund spade each and every small thrust.

a whiny complaint trebles off your gullet, "are y'putting it in? baby.. please." but the petulance in your plea just rouses ellie up– excessively.

ignoring you, her focus tunnels solely on the tight hole kissing her cock in intervals, pleating up her earth brown shirt to eye her constricting muscles speckled in freckles, the pale blue–glossy v–line cadreing her hunter green cock that only deepened the lines in her abdomen with each pump. with her gaze aimed downwards, she speaks directly downwards, "be a good pussy and take my cock, yeah?"

that was her game. her conflicting game. the only words you heard before she fastens the dick bulky in her wrapped grip and lugs her entire length inside, blowing your vulva thin with how straining her size was. wow. a sight she froths over.

"mhm–" she continues, tensing her chords up to flow out a breathy, gritty, whisper, "take my cock like a good pussy." 

you feel the force impact your cervix straightaway, globs of clear lubricant slip and pool through the slim opening her cock barely provides and drips onto your thigh, cold and sticky, marks like paint. "ellie– h'oh fuck!" you wail in the stinging sensation of sudden brimming, which only drives her to crack another slap blistering red on your ass, "eeah!" you squeak, tears scorching the shoreline of your blurred eyes.

she wanted a tear to slip out. she wanted a cohesive sign that her cock felt tight, warm, filling. a kind of filling that bumps your stomach, makes you feel pregnant. cause you would be, take my word for it.

ellie analyzes the new ring of creamy serum wrapping her base like a ribbon of white lace, milky delight. it fades as she drags her length out, and bubbles when she sheathes back in. nothing could stop her finger from sampling the slimy slick, but, no. not this time. 

in her mind, that's her precum. her sperm. not a drop should be dripping out of you.

"g'nna fuck my seed– so, so.. deep." 

and by her word, she knurls her torso into a convex bend as she swathes over you, cottony shirt to back, tickling your flesh. like a dog licking your ear, she mashes the lobe of your ear with her soaked lips. chanting a one–lined hymn in your ear as her cock skids along your ridged walls and returns with a pumping rhythm, keeping your pelvis steady in her slack grip.

"makin' you–" slap, slap, slap, "a mama'," plop, plop, plop, "with my c-cock.. no–one else's." her huffs fan the baby hairs near your ear, lips brushing so dearly on the conch. each sticky bop of your hips plays like a hand smacking water, bringing shame to the ears of every wall witnessing this dirtier–than–porn event. 

your features tog up into a woozy countenance. lips wedged open like an orange slice, pupils reading your upper lashes like a string of musical notes, head jiggling with each lavish pump into your pretty little pussy. it feels so fucking good. spurts of pleasure that make you wish on every damnable star for her to actually get you pregnant. the way she fucks you like this, all pathetically horny with her own ass clenching into each thrust. you'd take her babies in a yoctosecond.

her bushy brows curl and furrow in enthrallment, enthralled by every honeyed whimper she pulls out of you with her dick. it fed her ego, the greedy ego telling her she is impregnating you. each vein, bumpy on the creasing skirt of your blushing hole shaped to fit her cock, felt so real– it hurts. ellies' had enough. she skims her palms just a hairbreadth down the planet of your ass to sink her talons in the supple crevice of your hip and thigh, held hard enough to move you. this meant only one thing.

ellie was tired of playing it safe.

her torso pastily unsticks from your back, casting a gray shadow with her hover, grunting, "listen– t'me," her hips sway and punch with heftier, vehement– stickier thrusts, the fat plastic cockhead sending a flux of pressure with each smash into the tacky wall of your vagina, "answer– d'ya think, mhh– our kids will have auburn hair, like me? frhm– freckles, like me? my eyes?" 

the constant abuse to your cervix chokes up your throat, warbling and going "guh, guhp– unh! fhhummk.." with your flaccid lips damp in slob, like a filthy mess of a bitch.

wrong answer. 

you should have just offered up her name in an exaggerated moan instead.

the extent of her hand extracts from your hips– not without her gift of nail–birthed sickles indenting your skin like scales, and coils back to whack your vainly treated glute. it makes your vision go white, tenderizes your skin and makes you scream.

"n–nnono, els–"

"so– no they won't look like me?" she laughs to herself, and it almost sounds– amusingly disappointed.

"n– yes, yes! they w–"

your throat then nearly guzzles her fingers base knuckles deep, muffled and choking on their stacked width.

"just shut up." ellie warns in a gruff. thing is, she knows that as long as her thickset tip keeps slamming into that assaulted cunt– she'll never hear the end of it. and that's the best part. confliction.

the counter was virtually warming up on your compressed cheek from how long you were in that position. slippery sweat dampened a puddle under your face in a thin pellucid coat. from your current view, you could only see her wrist pushing on your chin– cranking your jaw ajar, and her humping motions bleary in your peripherals. not like seeing her was necessary, you already felt her through and through. 

ellie, with her hips strapping you down in prolonged rams that cause a sharp sear on the hind of your thighs, with the downright sedative pleasure brought by the bumping base to her neglected clit, finds herself earnestly thinking about how a family would look on this farm. her baby, growing in you. her kids, skipping through these rustic halls. her wife, devout enough to nurture them through childhood. but on the perverted hand, her cock fucking a future generation into you, 'her' pussy gluttonous enough to consume it up to the hilt, her whore, eager enough to be the cumbucket to breed as she pleases.

she's gonna breed you like the horndog she is.

but you want to be full of her offspring.

"baby–" a stiff moan pours from her lips, and she glides her cock and digits out. snow white cream follows in strings, strung to her shaft and springs out like paint splatter on the ground as her strap bounces down to a flaccid level. wow. she moans again, this time, breathlessly, "baabby.. get'on th' counter.." 

"hmmuh?" flubbed you, barely able to see the picket fence outside the kitchen window through your graying haze– shapes blurred and melted into each other.

"said," the lone grip on your hip is replaced with the clammy bend of her elbow, tucking under your womb and flipping you around, "on' the counter." and lugs you hurriedly onto the sudor–coated surface with her grasp under your knees. her hands flatten on either side of your shaky thighs– vividly like jello– as her torso huddles close in your space. now that she could see your face, it was sexually comical. 

doe–eyed and glossed, lids puffy and red. patterns of your own saliva glissade down your chin and gleam in the soft light behind you. so hot.

her teeth bear in a parted smirk and she drunkenly stumbles her face down. then, she notices something. a pearly strand of sleek cum trickling over your perineum. like a melted popsicle, you drip everywhere, all over that counter space.

ellie's tongue ticks on the roof of her mouth, sighing, "mmh' fuck, pussy dripping everywhere– clean this counter afterwards, won't you?" spoken like a silken demand, index pointing at the mess.

you keenly nod, squinting with those weepy eyes as you try to discern the moving colors of your girlfriend right as she heaved her fat cock right back inside. stars. stars heat you skin and strike your vision. a night of black spots burn through your eyes and caper around– obscuring ellie's blissed out face. you were already fucked out from the last position, so fucked, you nearly came at the meaty expansion of your aching hole.

ellie could tell, and that was her cue. her goddess given cue to bottom out. the friction of her girth akin to a fist stuffing you up was pushing up on your g–spot, and that knocked a tear out. the ones lashing at your ducts to release, finally did. 

you couldn't feel anything else– anything, but her cock.

moist sloshes cram up the space between you too, smacking and dragging as before. faster, harder, her hips never lapse and pick up the speed. tapping you out like a nozzle draining syrup from a tree, gushing and coating her cock beautifully. smack– smack– smack– goes her groin deluged in your sweet sex juices connecting like webs with each bash of your hips.

on comes a dirty row of her impudent and vile comments– barely stable voice from how fast she pumped, all tepidly whispered on your neck.

"knockin' that fhckin' pussy up– huh?"

you can feel the warmth radiating off her face a breath away, a cheek–length strand of hair now sticks to the sweat veiling her hairline. pores beading with glassy perspiration. just as red as you. huff, huff, gasp.

"that pretty pussys' mine– mhh, all mine."

ellie's palms leave two clammy prints on the marble slab when her fingers pop off and clasp your pelvis. with this grip on you, she pushes your hips hard on her relentless pounds. no wall of your vagina lacks a thrashed kiss from her dick, your hole was just too tight for any air pockets. that tight. just pure ush–gush.

"god' m'sucha dirty slut for ur' pussy, such a fucking whor�� ughhn!– wantin' to make you–a mama." grizzled her in a lower voice, but still so rough, sweating and huffing like a dog in heat.

the cupboards creak and squeak, scarcely bearing the racket she induced with her fucking into you.

the intensity marches on.

"els– els, I'm gonna cum.." 

it was nice to hear, but she was infinitely more focused on cumming herself. she was close. very close. eyes screwed tight in the straps kickback digging her clit with firm pressure,  knuckles flushed white as they bent and tried to carve into your hips. ellie couldn't get enough of you.

"yeah– me too, nghh~"

her own slick begins to lather up her crotch, sticking up that auburn bush, dripping off the strapbase and staining the crinkled jean pile directly underneath her.

the kitchen reeked of cunt– yours and hers. delicious sex miasma. the scent of raw arousal coats your nasal cavity, lulling you both to climax– two hearts on the same beat.

but there was one thing. one thing you could give her, that'd change your lives from there on out.

"baabe–" a shallow utter gusts from her lips, shuddering, "can' i fuck you– god, fuck you like this? mate you– make babies with you, more often?" her voice warbles, fighting back the breath that wanted to give away.

the plunging and swelling of her dick parting your walls made it potently harder to answer– but, you creak, taking all the breath she would give you, mouth to mouth.

"yes, ellie– i want to have them."

her eyes squinted ever so slightly, sharpening, pupils blown. a wicked, scantily–contained smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, a glint in her eye revealing the excitement she felt by your words. in a heartbeat, her lips met with yours– wisping and wetting each other up.

but it was no feat to the sudden acceleration of her pistoning hips.

ellie's lips withdraw, moaning rigidly with buffering pants, "gon' make you a baby m–mama' now– ooh fuck!" feeling the same rise to orgasm tighten her stomach. 

"yes– yes! unh‐ uh fuck, ughh!" 

the clanging cupboards bang and thud as they do, but your moans eventually clamor up over them. her cock, sought the last final blows to your gummy ring inside, gathering up all that viscous serum in strings stuck to her bulbous head. this was it. she was finally getting her reward– viscously.

"love you–"

it tightens.

"s'much–"

it pulls.

"thank y– unngghh!"

she snaps.

your thighs convulse and lock around her hips as she buries her dick deep inside, plugging that bruised–to–hell mucousy cervix up. a high so heavenly it curls your body up to hers, cumming all over that filthy fucking cock in clear spurts, plashing all over the veiny shaft that had you weeping moans.

ellie had came too, matter of fact, all over the floor.

a dense and husky moan grates from the lowest region of her diaphragm, "hhhggn– uhhugh– fuck, baby." 

her eyes grew taut and scrunched in ecstasy, jutting her hips and clenching her ass to ride out the orgasm. a spew of her release taints the straps footing and leaks down her thigh, saturating in her skin. veins popped in her gripe, incisors bit her lip nearly hard enough to break skin, and eyes twitched back tenfold, casted heavenward.

a sunset clasps the shingle roof from above, depicted so innocently behind the pane, unknowing to what has come of you two. 

the moment softens.

and you're left with two fatigued bodies.

her arms loosen and flop on your sprawled lap, and her head finds a collapsed purchase on your shoulder. ellie's chest rose, fell, and rose again, swallowing up all the air her lungs lost in the heat. 

"think I just died," she dramatically heaves from her chest, gulping up the pooled spit in the trenches of her gums. a giggle shakes her, "hehe~ did you die?" she jests, nudging her limp hand to your shank.

the words carrying to your ears mish–mashed into an agglomeration of sounds strewn from her actual sentence, "there's n'pie in the oven.." you slur breathlessly, tongue nearly lifeless in the pit of your mouth.

ellie tries her darndest to compress the laugh grizzling from her throat, still winded, "w-what babe?" her head tilts to gawk at you.

"god i'm so dizzy.."

she blows a raspberry from her lips and knits her brows– amused. of course she's a tad worried your energy had been worn from the fucking, but, that's the funny part. she actually did that. her buzzy voice coaxes you back to animation, "want some'in to eat?" 

wait.

that's literally what you came in here for.

wait.

you peek at the green dome next to you, toppled over with dotted strawberry wedges scattered all over the stony tile– and your strawberry jam. really ellie? a pout cockles your lips into a plumper shape, notching your head on a slope, "did'ju knock over.. all of my strawberries?"

she swings her head 'round, feigning innocence, "umm– nope, wasn't me." puffing up her cheeks.

"ellie." 

she blows tersely, "i didn't!" and throws her hands up defensively– in playful spirit.

"and you ruined my panties!" you scold lightheartedly and jab your heel in the back of her thigh– a little bit of punishment. 

"ow!"

a reaction spurns from your lips, replaced by a jaded expression of hushed brows and trying lips that curl your face into one of, content. ellie forced a few puffs to spill from her open oval lips, hereafter curling into that same shit–eating grin that knows she's guilty– chuffed by herself.

then it wanes. wanes like the moon bearing its shrouded cycle. she softens up, softer than the bunny hopping across thick green grass in the season of beltane. this felt more fundamental to her than you might think, but, caring for you was her duty of worship. ever since that day she met you– the evening plait with a crimson ember engulfing air at the center of an autumntime bonfire in jackson. cold perspiration stuck to the glass held in your hands, talking the very ears off every owl present to listen. you had shared, sung, flirted, and saved the kiss for later. a later spent in her bed, all night– rising at dayspring, where she asked you to be her girlfriend at the foot of her door, just as you took your leave. 

every wound you tended to, she tended to yours, and led you here. on this farm. in your own realm of heaven.

"but seriously– do you want something to eat?"

"yeah, i'll um.." you shoo her away from her parked poise between your legs, sliding your weight off the counter with a heft of your forearms pushing you off, "clean the counter." your toes ease onto the floor with a shaky wobble, unable to even straighten your legs out at first. damn, ellie, what have you done.

"yeah, nuh–uh," she briskly bends at the torso and bars her robust arms underneath your mid–back and in the fold of your knee, sweeping you off your heels.

"els, what the f–"

she tousles her woody auburn mullet in a wag of her head, crunching you up closer with her biceps, "you, babe– are going to rest. i'll clean the counter." her brows raise at the end of her emphasized sentence, a silent 'capeesh?'.

her amenability never ceases to blossom those heartstrings of yours.

"yeah, yeah.." your eyes toss around the rim of your brow bone, and land back on her in time to spot a chuckle churn her watermelon pink lips.

those lips then settle and purse into a pucker, idly sidiling her face plumb to your forehead and peppering a moist kiss, pulling back slowly with unhindered affection tugging the corner of her lips into a satisfied smile.

"see? m'taking care of you. just as if–"

"if i was pregnant?"

"mhm.."

"you want it that badly?"

".."

"well– maybe.. jackson has some adoptable kids?"

now you're just feeding that fantasy of hers.

taglist; @whore4abby , @picklesarenice69 (im too dumb to know who wants 2 be on my permanent taglist so pls tell me directly if u ever wanna be tagged in all of my fic posts)

[pcr-alice]

DPxDC - Missing Persons

also on AO3

It started so quietly no one really noticed.

People were disappearing. A veteran from the mountains, a firefighter from the city, a surfer from the coast, and on and on. All gone without a trace. The local authorities investigated, of course, but they never found any leads. After some time, the people were simply written off as missing, and their communities moved on. They remained forgotten until the Justice League got involved. Their systems flagged the uptick in disappearances, and once a Bat took a look, they were immediately suspicious. It took another Bat before the link was finally found. And it took Red Hood disappearing to confirm it. The missing people all had previous close calls with death. And so the League followed protocol – they announced an investigation.

The disappearances stopped.

It was a relief at first. There were far too many people who fit the profile, and none of their analysis could discern a usable pattern from the previous disappearances. But as time stretched on, they got nervous. Surely whatever this was wouldn’t just stop once noticed? What was going to happen next, and when? Justice League Dark got involved. Only once John Constantine started poking around did they find a lead, and even then only thanks to dumb luck.

When Constantine was finally dragged to the town where one of the early disappearances occurred, he zeroed in on an old woman living in a care home. As it turned out, she was mildly magically sensitive. Apparently her grandmother was a witch or something of that sort. But crucially, she had suffered a nearly fatal heart attack almost a decade ago. And she was all too happy to talk about the ‘nice young man’ from her dream who offered to take her away.

She granted Constantine permission to dive into her memory to learn more. Whatever he learned did not make him happy. He said he’d be back after a quick trip to Hell and disappeared, much to Batman’s irritation. But true to his word, surprising some, he returned with slightly singed clothes and a book.

So here he was, chalking sigils onto the floor. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern watched him work in silence, likely trying to wrap their minds around the fact that there was a so-called Ghost King who they were about to request an audience with. Constantine finished up his work and stood at what they all assumed was the front of the circle he had just drawn.

“I do all the talking, yeah? These ones can be tricky.”

Without waiting for a response, he waved his hand, magic glowing at his palm. The circle responded in kind, pulsing white then fading into a harsh, vibrant green. A large black, green, and red elaborately-decorated sarcophagus rose inside the circle, appearing to phase straight through the floor.

“Dramatic fuckers, eh?” Constantine muttered.

A thick fog billowed out alongside it, quickly surging out past the boundary of the circle. It spread upward, threatening to fill the entire room. Constantine cursed to himself and waved an arm, clearing out the fog around them even as it thickened throughout the rest of the room, obscuring the view of the ceiling and walls save for the door directly behind them.

A deep voice echoed through the room with no discernible source. Everyone tensed.

“Who would dare wake the sleeping tyrant?”

A pair of bright green slits appeared from the depths of the fog and widened into eyes.

“Eugh, it’s you.”

The voice lost its echo. It sounded annoyed but entirely human and...young? That didn’t stop Constantine from clenching a hand into a fist, charging magic and preparing for an attack. The eyes moved closer, revealing a pale face and snow-white hair that floated in an unfelt breeze.

“Peace, Hellblazer.”

A lanky figure stepped forward onto the sarcophagus from where they were floating. They wore all black save for their white gloves, white boots, and previously visible head. With an audible thunk they plopped down on the foot of the sarcophagus, one leg bent upward to rest their chin on and wrap their arms around.

“I mean you no harm.”

There was a pause as the others waited to see how Constantine would respond.

“We met?”

“No, but I know of you. And I must admit, I’m disappointed to see you working with the likes of them.”

They gestured to the others in the room.

“Yeah, well,” Constantine relaxed his fist but lost none of his tension, “Don’t meet your heroes.”

The stranger scoffed.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just enjoy seeing demons annoyed.”

There was another tense pause as the stranger lazily looked over all those present. Constantine broke the silence again.

“Who might you be, then?”

The stranger slowly dragged their gaze away from Wonder Woman and back to the magician. After a pause they spoke.

“You may call me Ambassador.”

“Ambassador to ghosts?”

“If you’d like to think of it that way.”

Constantine straightened his posture.

“We would like to formally request an audience with His Majesty The King to discuss what we suspect is ghost activity in our world.”

The ambassador stared back in silence with squinted eyes before sighing and thumping their forehead to their knee.

“Where to even begin…” they whispered to themselves.

“Okay, let’s start with this.” They slapped the side of the sarcophagus and looked up. “What part of ‘sleeping tyrant’ wasn’t clear?”

“I was under the impression His Majesty was recently crowned and well-respected?”

The ambassador pinched the bridge of their nose and groaned.

“Ancients...”

They hopped to the ground without warning, causing everyone to flinch into defensive stances. If the ambassador noticed, they gave no indication.

“The king is a tyrant, he is trapped in forever sleep again, and I’d like to keep it that way this time.”

Constantine opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted before he got a chance.

“Speaking of which, how’d you even summon him?”

“Summon?” Constantine choked out, clearly surprised.

The ambassador walked toward Constantine, making everyone save for him slide backwards a step. They looked down at the chalk marks on the floor.

“Ancients, this is archaic. Where’d you find it?”

After a few seconds of silence, the ambassador looked up at Constantine.

“Well?”

“Ah...Merlin.”

The ambassador raised an eyebrow.

“What? It’s bloody true!”

The ambassador huffed out a laugh and walked back to lean against the sarcophagus and cross their arms.

“Can’t fault his demonology, but this circle is Bad. I suggest you lose it.”

Constantine opened his mouth to speak, but was once again interrupted, this time from an unfamiliar voice echoing through the room.

“Lord Phantom.”

Everyone flinched as a set of black armor coated in purple flames stepped into view from the fog.

“’Sup Frighty?”

“The dark one is marked.”

The ambassador flicked their eyes to Batman and stared for several tense seconds.

“So he is. Just like the other one, but actually concealed. Must be barely contaminated.”

The ambassador squinted and tilted their head.

“Sure enough. It’s weak, but there’s a family bond there.”

Batman clenched his fist.

“Where is Red Hood?”

The ambassador straightened their head, unflinching and unblinking.

“Safe. And being cared for.”

Before Batman could respond, yet another voice echoed from the fog.

“These are the ones?”

The ambassador turned their back to Batman and groaned.

“Is anyone not coming?”

A giant, four-armed, blue-skinned, armor-clad woman stepped out of the fog with two sets of crossed arms. She had the smallest smirk on her face.

“Apologies. I wished to see those who would obstruct our evacuation.”

Superman and Green Lantern perked up and shared a short look of confusion. The woman turned her head to Wonder Woman, her smirk replaced with a grimace.

“I am disappointed to see one of my kin among them.”

“I thought she might be, but I wasn’t sure.”

Wonder Woman stepped forward.

“My Lady, I –”

“You were not asked to speak, Child.” The woman snapped.

Her voice shook the floor underneath them. Wonder Woman flinched and stared up at her with wide eyes. The heroes tensed for a fight. But to their shock, Wonder Woman slowly raised her arm to press a fist over her heart and bowed her head in deference.

“I will make my displeasure known,” the woman growled, voice still angry but no longer violently.

“Take Dora with you.”

“Do you think me unable to fend for myself, Little One?” Her mouth curved up into a fond smirk again.

“I know better than to doubt you,” they briefly smirked back, “but given my limited experience, I don’t hold them in high regard.”

After a pause they tacked on a “no offense”.

“None taken.”

The woman stepped backwards and faded into the fog. Superman took a step forward, eyeing the armor cautiously.

“Ambassador, my apologies for our unpleasant first meeting.”

He waited until the ambassador gave him a slight nod.

“May I inquire what your companion meant by ‘evacuation’?”

“Exactly what she said. Our kind are being hunted, and we are trying to save them.”

“In that case I must apologize again. We were not aware of this unfortunate situation. Had we been provided an explanation, we would –”

“Typical,” the ambassador scoffed, “your primary patron government is committing a genocide, and yet we’re at fault for not properly informing you.”

Superman was smart enough to bite back his standard “we’re independent” retort. Green Lantern stepped forward instead.

“If I may, Ambassador, my name is Hal Jordan. I am a member of the Green Lantern Corps. We are a wholly independent organization dedicated to peacekeeping across the galaxy.”

The ambassador looked him up and down slowly before turning their head away dismissively.

“I don’t talk to cops.”

The heroes were stunned to silence. The ambassador turned to the floating armor.

“Prepare the Keep. I’ll ward against this circle once the sarcophagus is back in its place.”

“My Lord.”

The armor bowed its head then faded into the fog. Batman stepped forward.

“We have no involvement in the violence against you or your kind.”

The ambassador turned to stare at Batman for several seconds, squinted eyes glowing brightly.

“You’re an excellent liar, Batman.” The fog crept forward and wrapped around their legs. “Unfortunately, I know you’re full of shit.”

“What points you to that conclusion?” Batman kept his voice neutral and steady.

The fog had risen to the ambassador’s chest. They scoffed.

“There are photos of you with Amanda Waller.”

Batman’s fist clenched harder.

The ambassador turned to look at Constantine as the fog enveloped them, leaving two glowing green spots.

“I suggest you not push this any further, Laughing Magician. There are some things in this universe that trump even your luck.”

The glowing green eyes closed, and the fog faded away, leaving an empty summoning circle and untouched room. After several seconds of silence, Wonder Woman finally raised her head and spoke.

“I must return to Themyscira, perhaps for some time. If that was who I believe it to be...something has gone very wrong.”

Superman glanced over the others, who were all still silently processing the encounter. He turned back to Wonder Woman to give her a nod, and she quickly walked out of the room.

Constantine reached into his coat and pulled out his flask. He unscrewed the cap with a heavy sigh and downed whatever was left. He looked tired and annoyed, same as he always did. But Batman could tell he was shaken.

He looked away from Constantine and back to the empty circle again. There was a lot of concerning information to process, but one key thing did slip through. The knight had called the stranger ‘Phantom’. He had come across that name once before. One of three legible words on a burnt piece of paper in an abandoned and destroyed facility. A facility that stank of a classified government cover-up. A facility Waller had sworn up and down she knew nothing about. But he had a lead. The other two words. Amity Park. A small town that only existed if you looked at paper maps printed several years ago.

He had to act quickly.

[optimist-pine]

Bodyguard

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive

Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone

Era: Season 1, the Quarry

Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...

The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.

Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.

He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.

"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.

"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.

You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.

He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.

"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.

He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.

"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.

He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."

"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.

---

Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."

He simply grunts in response.

Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.

When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.

He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.

You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."

"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.

"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."

You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.

"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.

As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.

You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.

"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.

The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.

"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.

He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.

When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.

You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.

You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"

You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.

"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.

Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.

"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.

You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.

You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."

You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.

A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.

You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.

"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."

And you grin.

---

Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.