#rare and exotic delicacy!

[yuujispinkhair]

So Sukuna is from the heian era so he probably has only eaten a couple types of fruit (a quick google search says primary fruit in Japan at that time were persimmon and nashi pear), any ways he's never had strawberries! Or bananas! Or lychees!

I figure he doesn't like pop because it's too sweet and doesn't like popcorn because of the texture. So imagine feeding him some "exotic" fruit for the first time, do you think he'd like them?

Oooh I love that!! I think that Sukuna is very open to tasting food he never tried before. He is curious about it, eager to learn, and eager for a new experience. Also very critical, probably, but I guess with fruit, there wouldn't be much for him to criticize.

I love the idea of feeding Sukuna some fruit he never tried before. There is something very sensual about that. Like imagine holding out a strawberry to him, and you feel his large hand wrap around your wrist and bring the fruit to his mouth while you hold it.

You feel Sukuna's lips and tongue and even his teeth brushing over your fingertips as he eats. He doesn't let you pull your hand away, but you wouldn't even want to. It's so mesmerizing to watch Sukuna taste this new fruit in a way that can only be described as passionate.

His eyes are closed, and he sighs as he swallows, clearly approving of the taste. His mouth closes around the strawberry again, suckling on it, savoring it to the fullest, taking his time to taste it. Your pulse is racing as you watch him. Sukuna is always a beautiful man, but right now he looks otherworldly. You understand why he is called a God. He looks like an angel with his eyes closed and his face soft like that. Somehow, this moment feels so intimate, as if you are allowed to witness something very rare, something almost sacred.

And then those beautiful eyes open and look deeply into yours as a small grin lifts the corners of Sukuna's lips, and his hand tightens around your wrist before you feel his tongue lick up all the juice that was running down your hand, licking all the way up from your racing pulse in your wrist to your tingling fingertips, which he sucks into his warm mouth for a moment.

When Sukuna is finally finished, and no trace of strawberry juice is left on your skin, he presses a light kiss on your fingertips. His voice is low, sounding sensual and very pleased when he tells you,

"That was a true delicacy. Thank you for introducing it to me."

[pin-k-ink]

Cockwarming Ranpo 😵

temptation // edogawa ranpo

tw ⇢ mutual pining, food kink(?), teasing, fingering, making out, office sex, cockwarming, public sex, exhibitionism, punishment sex, squirting, dirty talking, unprotected sex

wc ⇢ 5.2k

a/n: when i say public sex i mean public sex

Ranpo Edogawa, the brilliant and eccentric detective of the Armed Detective Agency, was renowned not only for his unparalleled deductive skills but also for his insatiable sweet tooth. His desk was a veritable treasure trove of confections, always stocked with an assortment of colorful candies, decadent chocolates, and exotic sweets from around the world. Each treat was carefully chosen to satisfy his discerning palate, and Ranpo took great pride in his collection.

On this particular day, Ranpo returned to the office after cracking a particularly challenging case. The thrill of the solve still buzzed in his veins, and he couldn't wait to celebrate with his newest acquisition - a box of rare and exquisite truffles from a world-famous chocolatier. He had pulled a few strings and called in some favors to get his hands on these delicacies, and he had been saving them for a special occasion.

As he approached his desk, Ranpo's anticipation grew with each step. He could almost taste the rich, velvety ganache, the smooth dark chocolate shell, and the subtle notes of exotic spices that he knew would dance across his tongue. His fingers twitched with eagerness as he reached for the small, gilded box that housed his precious truffles.

But as Ranpo's gaze fell upon his desk, his excited smile faltered. The box was nowhere to be seen. He frowned, his brow furrowing as he scanned the cluttered surface, hoping that perhaps he had simply misplaced it among the scattered papers and empty candy wrappers. But no matter how hard he looked, the box remained elusive.

A sinking feeling began to settle in Ranpo's stomach as he considered the possibilities. He distinctly remembered placing the box on his desk before stepping out to discuss a case with the Agency's president, Yukichi Fukuzawa. It had only been a brief meeting, no more than fifteen minutes, but apparently, that had been enough time for someone to make off with his prized possession.

Little did Ranpo know that, just moments before, you had been passing by his desk on your way to the file room. A glint of gold had caught your eye, and curiosity got the better of you. You paused, your gaze drawn to the small, ornate box that sat among the clutter of candy wrappers and case files.

Unable to resist the temptation, you reached out and picked up the box, marveling at the intricate design etched into the gold. Your fingers traced the delicate lines, and you could almost feel the promise of something special hidden within.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, you carefully lifted the lid, your eyes widening as they fell upon the most exquisite truffles you had ever seen. The rich, dark chocolate glistened in the light, and the aroma that wafted up from the box was nothing short of heavenly.

Without thinking, you plucked one of the truffles from the box and brought it to your lips. The moment the chocolate touched your tongue, your eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. The truffle seemed to melt in your mouth, the velvety ganache coating your taste buds with a symphony of flavors - rich, dark cocoa, a hint of smoky vanilla, and a subtle note of something exotic that you couldn't quite place.

Engrossed in the heavenly flavors dancing on your tongue, you were oblivious to the sound of approaching footsteps. It wasn't until the realization hit you that you snapped out of your reverie, your eyes widening in alarm as they darted to the half-eaten box of truffles. Panic rising in your chest, you hastily snatched up the incriminating evidence and placed it on your desk, frantically trying to conceal it behind a towering stack of papers. With your heart pounding in your ears, you attempted to compose yourself, hoping against hope that your indulgence would go unnoticed.

Ranpo's mind began to race, his brilliant deductive skills kicking into high gear as he considered the potential culprits. The Armed Detective Agency was a small, tight-knit group, and he couldn't imagine any of his colleagues stooping so low as to steal his sweets. But then again, he had made no secret of his excitement over these particular truffles. Perhaps the temptation had been too much for someone to resist.

As he stood there, lost in thought, a flicker of movement caught Ranpo's eye. He turned just in time to see you, his fellow detective and secret crush, hurrying past his desk, your arms laden with files. There was a peculiar expression on your face, a mix of guilt and nervousness that immediately piqued Ranpo's interest.

His eyes narrowed as he studied you, taking in the slight flush of your cheeks and the way you avoided his gaze. It was then that he noticed the smudge of chocolate at the corner of your mouth, a telltale sign of your transgression.

Ranpo felt a surge of emotions - surprise, betrayal, and a strange, unexpected thrill. He had always admired your intelligence and your kind heart, but he had never imagined you capable of such a daring act. The thought of you, his sweet and innocent colleague, succumbing to the temptation of his forbidden truffles sent a shiver down his spine.

He knew he should be angry, or at the very least, annoyed. But as he watched you disappear into the file room, your shoulders hunched and your steps hurried, Ranpo couldn't help but feel a spark of something else entirely. It was a feeling he had been trying to ignore for months now, a warmth that spread through his chest whenever you were near.

Ranpo had always prided himself on his ability to remain detached, to keep his emotions in check and his heart guarded. But there was something about you that made him want to break all his rules. And now, with this unexpected turn of events, he couldn't help but wonder if fate had handed him the perfect opportunity.

A slow, mischievous smile spread across Ranpo's face as he settled into his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin. He had a plan, a deliciously wicked plan that would not only allow him to exact his revenge but also to explore the tantalizing possibility of something more with you.

He leaned back, his eyes glinting with anticipation as he waited for you to return. The game was on, and Ranpo was determined to savor every moment of it. After all, he knew better than anyone that the sweetest victories were often the ones that required a little bit of risk.

As the minutes ticked by, Ranpo's mind raced with possibilities. He couldn't deny the thrill that ran through him at the thought of confronting you, of seeing the shock and guilt in your eyes as he revealed your crime. But even more than that, he was intrigued by the idea of what might come next.

Ranpo had always been a master of reading people, of seeing beneath the surface and unraveling the secrets that others tried to hide. And in that moment, as he replayed the scene of your hurried escape over and over in his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to your actions than mere temptation.

He thought back to all the times he had caught you watching him, your gaze lingering just a little too long when you thought he wasn't looking. He remembered the way you always seemed to find an excuse to be near him, to brush against him in passing or to lean in close when you spoke. At the time, he had dismissed it as simple admiration, or perhaps even a bit of hero worship. But now, in light of your bold move, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something deeper at play.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway pulled Ranpo from his musings, and he sat up straighter in his chair, his heart beating just a little bit faster. He knew it was you, could sense your presence like a physical force as you drew closer to his desk.

When you finally rounded the corner, your arms now empty of files, Ranpo was ready. He fixed you with a piercing stare, his lips curled in a knowing smirk as he watched the color drain from your face. You froze in place, your eyes wide and your mouth slack as you realized that you had been caught.

"Well, well, well," Ranpo drawled, his voice low and smooth as honey. "If it isn't my favorite little truffle thief."

You swallowed hard, your fingers twisting together in a nervous gesture as you tried to find your words. "Ranpo, I... I can explain," you stammered, your cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.

But Ranpo held up a hand, silencing your protests with a single, elegant gesture. "Oh, I'm sure you can," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. "But I'm not interested in excuses. I'm interested in retribution."

He stood up slowly, unfolding his lean frame from the chair with a grace that was almost feline. You watched him warily, your heart pounding in your chest as he stalked closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

When he was close enough to touch, Ranpo reached out and traced the smudge of chocolate at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You shivered at the contact, your breath catching in your throat as he brought his thumb to his own lips and licked it clean.

"Mmm," he hummed, his eyes fluttering closed in a moment of bliss. "Just as delicious as I imagined. But then again, everything tastes better when it's stolen, doesn't it?"

Your mouth went dry at the implication in his words, and you felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment. "Ranpo," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to-"

But once again, Ranpo silenced you with a look. "Oh, I know exactly what you meant to do," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned in closer. "And now, my dear, you're going to make it up to me."

Your eyes widened at the promise in his words, and you felt a thrill of excitement that mingled with the guilt in your stomach. You had always admired Ranpo, had always been drawn to his brilliant mind and his mischievous charm. But you had never dared to hope that he might feel the same way about you.

Now, as he stood before you, his eyes dark with a heat that made your knees weak, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps your impulsive act of thievery had been a blessing in disguise.

"Do you have any idea how rare and expensive those truffles are?" he asked, his voice still low but with an undercurrent of something that made your heart skip a beat. "I had to call in a lot of favors to get my hands on them."

You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to the floor as shame washed over you. "I'm so sorry, Ranpo," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I didn't know. I'll...I'll buy you more, I promise. Whatever it takes to make this right."

Ranpo was silent for a long moment, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost thoughtful. "No, I don't think that will be necessary," he said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I have a better idea."

You looked up, surprised and a little wary. "What...what do you mean?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest as Ranpo took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I think," he murmured, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face, gently tucking it behind your ear , "that you owe me a favor. A very special favor, to make up for the truffles you've stolen."

Your breath caught in your throat at the touch of his fingers on your skin, and the suggestive edge to his words. "What kind of favor?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ranpo's smile widened, and there was a glint of something wicked in his eyes. "Oh, I have a few ideas," he said, his hand dropping to your waist and pulling you closer. "But first, I think we should finish what you started."

And with that, he leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to taste the lingering sweetness of the truffle. You melted into the kiss, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours.

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your cheeks flushed and your eyes hazy with desire. "Delicious," Ranpo murmured, licking his lips with a satisfied smile. "But I think I need a little more to fully appreciate the flavor."

He plucked the box of truffles from your desk and set it on his own, then took your hand and led you over to his chair. With a gentle but insistent pressure, he guided you down onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close.

"Now," he said, his breath hot against your ear as he nuzzled your neck. "Let's see if we can find a way to make this punishment a little more...enjoyable, shall we?"

Your heart raced at the promise in his words, and you couldn't help but arch into his touch as his hands began to roam over your body. The warmth of his skin seeped through your clothes, and you could feel the firm muscle of his thighs beneath you, supporting your weight with ease.

Ranpo reached for the box of truffles, plucking one from its nest of gold foil and bringing it to your lips. "Open up, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you part your lips obediently.

He placed the truffle on your tongue, and you couldn't help but let out a little moan of pleasure as the rich, dark chocolate began to melt in your mouth. But before you could fully savor the taste, Ranpo's lips were on yours, his tongue delving into your mouth to steal the truffle back.

You gasped into the kiss, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he explored your mouth, chasing the flavor of the chocolate. When he finally pulled away, there was a smear of chocolate on his lips, and a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Mmm," he hummed, licking his lips with a satisfied smile. "Even better than I imagined. But I think we can do better than that, don't you?"

He reached for another truffle, holding it between his teeth as he leaned in close. Understanding his intention, you parted your lips, allowing him to pass the truffle to you in a sensual, chocolate-flavored kiss.

Back and forth you went, sharing the truffles between you, the kisses growing more heated and desperate with each passing moment. Ranpo's hands roamed your body, slipping beneath your clothes to touch and tease, stoking the fire that burned within you.

By the time the last truffle was gone, you were both panting, your lips swollen and your bodies thrumming with need. Ranpo's eyes were dark with desire, his gaze raking over you with a hunger that made you shiver.

"I think," he murmured, his voice low and rough, "that it's time for the real punishment to begin."

The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and you could feel the firmness of his muscles beneath his clothes. Ranpo's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as he nuzzled your neck, his breath tickling your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

"Now, here's what's going to happen," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "You're going to finish all of my paperwork for me, as punishment for eating my precious truffle."

Your eyes widened, a protest forming on your lips at the thought of taking on such a daunting task. But before you could voice your objections, Ranpo silenced you with a quick kiss, his lips firm and insistent against yours.

"And while you're working," he continued, his voice low and teasing as he pulled away, "I'm going to indulge in some of my other sweets. I think I've earned it, don't you?"

With that, Ranpo reached for a nearby jar of colorful candies, popping one into his mouth with a satisfied hum. You watched, transfixed, as he savored the sweet, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in a way that made your mouth go dry.

Shaking yourself from your daze, you turned to face the stack of papers on Ranpo's desk. The task seemed even more daunting now that you were perched on his lap, his body a constant distraction that threatened to derail your focus. With a sigh of resignation, you picked up a pen and began to work, trying to ignore the way Ranpo's arms tightened around your waist, holding you close.

As you worked, Ranpo continued to indulge in his sweets, occasionally offering you a taste. His fingers would brush against your lips as he fed you a candy or a piece of chocolate, the intimacy of the gesture making your heart race. The sugary treats melted on your tongue, mingling with the taste of Ranpo's earlier kiss and creating a heady combination that made your head spin.

The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself getting lost in the work, your pen scratching against the paper as you filled out form after form. Ranpo's hands began to wander, his fingers tracing teasing patterns on your skin through the fabric of your clothes. The very prominent bulge twitching beneath you making it harder and harder to concentrate on the task at hand.

The longer you worked, the more Ranpo's touches grew bolder, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your stomach. He nuzzled your neck, his lips ghosting over your sensitive flesh and making you shiver. You bit your lip, determined to focus on the task at hand, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the growing ache between your legs.

As if sensing your growing frustration, Ranpo's hand began to drift lower, his fingers tracing the waistband of your panties before slipping beneath the fabric. You gasped as his fingers brushed against your slick heat, and he chuckled, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"Mmm, seems like someone's enjoying their punishment a little too much," he murmured, his fingers teasing your entrance and making you squirm.

You pressed your thighs together, trying to trap his hand, but Ranpo merely laughed, his fingers sliding deeper inside you. "Oh, no," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "That's not how this works, sweetheart. You're going to take everything I give you, and then some."

You groaned as he began to thrust his fingers in and out of you, the delicious friction making your head spin. "Ranpo," you breathed, your hips rocking against his hand as you sought more.

But Ranpo was relentless, his pace never faltering as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. His thumb found your clit, stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves with just enough pressure to drive you wild. Your breaths came in short gasps, and you arched against him, your spine creating a mesmerizing curve as you reached forward to grab onto the desk.

Just as you were about to tumble over the edge, Ranpo suddenly withdrew his fingers, leaving you trembling and aching with need. You whimpered, the loss of his touch almost unbearable, and you heard him chuckle again.

Then you heard the sound metal, Ranpo shifting you in his lap as he worked on his belt buckle. With a swift tug, his trousers were undone and the unmistakable feeling of his bare cock, hot and hard against the curve of your ass.

"Do you want more?" Ranpo's voice was thick with lust, his lips pressed against your ear. "All you have to do is ask."

You swallowed, the thought of begging for his cock making you burn with shame and arousal.

But the throbbing between your legs was too strong, and you found yourself giving in.

"Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I need you, Ranpo."

You felt his grin against your skin as his hand slid between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your soaked entrance. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "Now, why don't you warm my cock for me while you work. That's the real punishment, after all."

With a deft motion, he lifted your hips and sank you down onto his thick shaft. You let out a strangled moan as his cock stretched you open, filling you so completely that it took your breath away.

Ranpo settled back in his chair, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. You were impaled on his cock, the fullness of him pressing against your inner walls and making your toes curl.

"There," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Now, you can get back to work."

Your hand shook as you picked up the pen, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of Ranpo's cock pulsing inside you. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable, and every movement made you more and more aware of the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, and the way his arms wrapped around you.

But still, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, your pen flying across the pages as you filled out form after form. Ranpo kept perfectly still, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin and his lips brushing against your neck.

Just as you were nearing the end of the stack of papers, the sound of footsteps and voices in the hallway outside the office made you freeze. Your heart leapt into your throat as you realized that the rest of the team was returning from their lunch break, and here you were, perched on Ranpo's lap like a stolen treat, with his cock, balls deep inside your cunt.

Ranpo, however, seemed unfazed by the impending arrival of your colleagues. If anything, the wicked gleam in his eyes only intensified, as if he relished the thought of being caught in such a compromising position. His hands continued their teasing exploration of your body, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your skirt to trace the sensitive skin of your thighs.

The door to the office swung open, and you felt the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks as Yosano, Kunikida, and the others filed in. Their eyes widened as they took in the sight of you on Ranpo's lap, your skirt hiked up and your face flushed with a mix of desire and mortification.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Yosano drawled, a smirk playing on her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Looks like someone's been a naughty girl."

Kunikida, ever the professional, averted his gaze, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he cleared his throat. "Ranpo-san, this is hardly appropriate behavior for the office," he said, his voice stern despite his obvious discomfort.

Ranpo, however, seemed unfazed by the disapproval in Kunikida's tone. He merely tightened his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against him as he grinned up at his colleagues. "What can I say? She ate my truffle, and now she's paying the price."

The others exchanged glances, a mix of amusement and exasperation on their faces. They had long since grown accustomed to Ranpo's eccentricities, but this was a new level of boldness, even for him.

You squirmed in Ranpo's lap, your face burning with embarrassment as you tried to disentangle yourself from his embrace. But Ranpo held fast, his fingers digging into your hips as he kept you firmly in place.

"Now, now, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "You still have work to do. Be glad they can’t see how much your pussy is drooling all over my cock."

With that, he reached for another candy, popping it into his mouth with a satisfied hum. The others shook their heads, a mix of amusement and resignation on their faces as they settled into their own desks, pointedly avoiding looking in your direction.

You could feel their gazes on you, though, the weight of their curiosity and judgment making your skin prickle with self-consciousness. But Ranpo seemed oblivious to it all, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your thigh as if he were completely unconcerned with the eyes on the two of you.

You bit your lip, a fresh wave of heat flooding your cheeks as you picked up the pen once more. Your hand trembled, the ink flowing across the page in an unsteady scrawl.

But still, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, determined to complete the paperwork and put an end to this torture. As the minutes ticked by, you could feel Ranpo's cock twitching inside you, his obvious arousal sending a thrill of excitement through you.

Just as you were nearing the end of the stack of papers, Ranpo's fingers found their way back between your thighs, teasing your sensitive clit and making you gasp.

"Keep working, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "We wouldn't want the others to think you're slacking off, would we?"

The others glanced up at the sound of your gasp, a mix of embarrassment and desire on their faces as they took in the sight of you, perched on Ranpo's lap and trembling with need. But no one dared to speak, and the only sounds in the office were the scratch of pens on paper and the low hum of the air conditioning.

As Ranpo's fingers continued their teasing exploration of your slick folds, your vision blurred, the words on the page swimming before your eyes. Your breathing grew ragged, and your hips began to rock involuntarily, desperate for more.

Ranpo's grip on your waist tightened, and he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Can't focus?" he asked, his voice low and taunting. "Maybe I should stop. After all, I wouldn't want to interfere with your punishment."

You felt a pang of disappointment at his words, but you knew better than to argue.

"Please," you whispered, your voice a desperate plea. "I need to finish this."

Ranpo smiled, his fingers never ceasing their teasing rhythm. "Then you'd better hurry up," he murmured. "Because if you don't finish soon, l'm going to take you right here, in front of everyone. And then they'll all know how much you enjoy being my naughty little thief."

His words sent a thrill of excitement through you, mingling with the shame and arousal that already burned in your veins. The thought of your colleagues watching as Ranpo fucked you was both mortifying and intoxicating, and the image of it made you even wetter.

Ranpo sensed your reaction, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he slid two fingers on either side of your swollen clit, pinching slowly and deliberately. "I bet they'd like that, wouldn't they?" he murmured, his voice a low purr. "To see how pretty you look when you come, how shamelessly you beg for more."

"Ranpo," you gasped, his words sending a surge of pleasure through you. You were so close, the tension coiled inside you ready to snap. "Please, I-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Ranpo's thumb pressed down hard on your clit, sending you spiraling over the edge. You cried out softly, slumping against the desk as your juices flowed out freely, dripping down the leather chair.

The others stared in disbelief, their faces flushed with embarrassment and arousal as they watched Ranpo slowly pull his fingers from your slick folds, an obscene amount of your juices now creating a puddle on the floor. He brought his hand to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied smile.

"Mmm," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "Just as delicious as I imagined. But there's one last thing we need to do."

Your heart raced in anticipation, your skin tingling as Ranpo's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

"What's that?" you breathed, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body.

Ranpo grinned, his fingers trailing down your stomach to find the spot where his cock was still buried inside you. "I think it's time we showed the others just how much you love being my little truffle thief."

Without warning, he thrust up into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot and making you cry out. Your hands flew to the desk, gripping the edge as he pounded into you, his hips setting a punishing rhythm.

"Ranpo," you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

"Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice strained with his own desire. "Show them how good it feels." Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you surrendered to the pleasure, your hips moving in time with his. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his arousal building with each stroke.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the office, the scent of sex mingling with the familiar aroma of ink and paper. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let yourself get lost in the sensation, the pressure building in your core until it finally snapped.

You came hard, your muscles clenching around Ranpo's cock and drawing a groan from his lips. Your juices flowed freely, soaking the chair beneath you as you trembled in his arms.

"That's it," Ranpo growled, his fingers digging into your skin as he rode out your orgasm. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come for me."

You shuddered, his words sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you.

The others watched in rapt attention, their own arousal obvious in their flushed cheeks and darkened eyes.

Ranpo's thrusts became erratic, and he buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. With a muffled groan, he came, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his seed.

The room was silent, save for the sound of your heavy breathing and the pounding of your heart in your ears. Your limbs felt boneless, and your head was spinning, the intensity of your release leaving you dazed and sated.

As Ranpo's cock began to soften, you felt a rush of shame and embarrassment, realizing that the others had witnessed everything. But as you glanced around the room, you were surprised to see a mix of admiration and lust on their faces, their eyes locked on the place where your bodies were still connected.

Ranpo pulled away slowly, his arms releasing their tight hold around your waist. He tucked himself back into his trousers, the fabric damp with your juices.

"There," he said, his voice a low, satisfied purr. "Now we're even."

Your eyes widened, your cheeks flushing as you realized that the pile of unfinished paperwork was still sitting on the desk in front of you.

Ranpo's smile widened, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "I'll finish the rest. But only because you're such a good girl."

[tanuki-kimono]

Bountyful autumnal delicacies for this antique outfit pairing a deep red kimono and a black based obi.

Fruits depicted here are: zakuro (pomegranate), nashi (pear), budou (grape), ringo (apple), and what I assume is biwa (loquat).

Notice the the rare gourmet food that is the pineapple - exotic/unusual patterns like this one where especially fashionable pre wwii!

[dewdropdinosaur]

Paradise Hypnotized

LUCIFER X M READER X LILLITH (POLY) Summary: As the extermination wages outside, lost and new lovers find themselves with the opportunity to discover each other Warnings: NSFW, 18+, MDNI Oral sex, p in a sex, mentions of a strap, poly sex, sexual themes, use of pet names, and probaby a lot of other things I am forgetting

The night was thick with the smog of the city’s underbelly. Outside, an extermination was underway, a chaotic dance of flames and death lead by an angelic chorus of war cries and screams. Inside the dimly lit royal mansion, however, the world was serene. The clinking of glasses and the soft hum of jazz set the mood for an unexpected dinner with two of Hell's most infamous residents. Y/N were seated at a corner table, a single candle flickering between him and his companions. Lilith and Lucifer, both radiating a magnetic charm, were seated across from him, their expressions a mixture of amusement and intrigue. While Y/N had long not seen the two of his old friends since the Fall, there last request the angel before departing back to Heaven.

Y/N glanced nervously out the window of the posh, candle-lit dining room. Outside, Hell’s tumultuous nightlife was in full swing, with the unmistakable sounds of chaos punctuating the night—demonic roars, explosions, and the occasional shriek. But inside, the mood was decidedly more refined. The grand mahogany table was laden with an exquisite spread: rare delicacies from the underworld, exotic fruits, and an assortment of infernal spirits that bubbled and crackled in crystal decanters. Lillith and Lucifer, sitting on either side of Y/N, exuded a sophisticated air despite the pandemonium just beyond the walls.

“Quite the contrast, isn’t it?” Lillith mused, her eyes twinkling as she sipped a glass of shimmering wine. Her gaze never left Y/N, and a playful smirk danced on her lips.

“Ah, yes,” Y/N replied, managing a smile as he watched her with an appreciative eye. “This world below is a bit more… lively than I expected.”

Lucifer, draped in his opulent attire, leaned closer with a languid grace. “You know, it’s not every day we get to enjoy a meal with an old friend while the city’s being purged. Quite the rare opportunity.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling the tension of the outside world begin to dissipate in the warmth of their company. “It’s certainly a memorable experience. Thank you for agreeing to my request.”

“Oh of course. How could we say no to such an old friend? After all, you truly helped us out before it all.” 

“Well how couldn’t I. I may not agree with what you stand for but I certainly wont stand for anyone, even you two, being shamed and cast down. You are deserving of respect.”

“Tch, how sweet. So…saint-like.”

“And how are you finding it so far?” Lucifer’s voice was smooth, each word dripping with a charm that made Y/N’s heart race. “Hell, I mean.”

“Well, like I said…it’s certainly lively. Can hardly even smell the brimstone.”

“You’re not feeling overwhelmed, I hope? Cause if so, I would be happy to find a remedy.”

Lillith laughed softly, a sound as rich and captivating as the finest wine. “Oh, Lucifer, you know how to flatter. But really, Y/N, we’re just glad you could join us tonight. It’s not often we get to enjoy such delightful company amidst the madness.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed slightly as he met her gaze. “Well, I must say, having dinner with the two of you makes the chaos outside feel distant

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed with mischief. "Perhaps we should make a habit of this—dinner amidst the destruction. It adds a certain… flair, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lillith reached over and lightly touched Y/N’s arm, her fingers lingering. “I must admit, it does make for an intriguing atmosphere. And who knows, maybe we’ll even find a way to make it a bit more… memorable~.”

Y/N felt a shiver run down his spine at her touch, her gaze holding his with an intensity that left him breathless. “I can’t argue with that.”

Lucifer, noticing the growing tension, decided to stir the pot a little more. “It’s clear that the evening’s chaos is not the only thing heating up. Perhaps we should address this growing… chemistry.”

Lillith’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, Lucifer, always so….humorous. I think Y/N might just be here for dinner.”

Y/N smirked, it tugging at his the corners of his lips. “Is that so? Well, I must say, I’m intrigued.”

—————NSFW BELOW CUT

Lucifer smirked, sliding his short stature over to Y/N. “It’s been nearly two centuries since I’ve seen you and I will admit…the thought has intruiged me—“

Y/N rose his eyebrow, arching it in both confusion and as a display of asking the short king(hehe author joke) to continue. 

“Wouldn’t you agree Lillith?”

“Oh Lucifer, I would have no idea what you are talking out.”

Y/N slowly rose from his seat, sauntering over to Lucifer. “Oh but I would.” Smirking and leaning down to whisper in the king’s ear, “You would just love it wouldn’t you? How dirty it is, how shameful that you are doing this right in front of your beautiful wife.” 

Lillith’s eyes widen in recognition but settling into a lustful stare at the pair. Y/N continued “But you’re greedy aren’t you darling. You would want her there, both of us. Doing all those naughty little things running around in your head.” 

Lillith started to get up but was quickly stopped by Y/N, who wagged his finger in disappointment. “Tch, tch, tch. No my little poisonberry; you stay right there.” Moving over to Lillith, Y/N dragged his chair along with him; settling next to the queen. With darkened eyes and finally seated, Y/N grabbed Lillith’s chin gently. 

“Why don’t you come over here and sit in my lap mhm? They don’t have things as pretty as you in Heaven.” Lillith, nodding obendiently, crawled over into Y/N’s lap, wrapping her arms around his slender frame. Turning his head back to Lucifer, who sat no so quitely palming his trousers, gained his attention with a snap. “Pay attention now darling, my eyes are up here.” Taking his queue once Lucifer looked up, Y/N dove into kiss Lillith. A clash of tongue and teeth, nothing but a mess of pure erotica and a sense of want. A total and primal consumption of self to satiate the burnig desire within. Breaking from the kiss, both parties panting, Y/N motions with his finger for Lucifer to come over. Crawling on his knees, the king humbled whimpers as Y/N then cups his cheek and kiss him with the same passion and fevor as Lillith. Seeing an opening, Lillith starts to suck on Y/N’s neck, bright red and soon to be bruises forming in a path of affection and lust. 

After some stumbling and a few apologies to the butler, all three parties ended up in the master bedroom. With a quick snap of his fingers, both Lillith and Lucifer were left shirtless; toned and slender bodies on full display. Eyes darkened with hunger at the sight of their bare forms, a silent understanding among them of what was about to happen. 

Y/N leaned down and took one of Lillith’s hardened nipples in his mouth, the warmth of his tongue teasing the aroused bud. Dragging his hands across her torso, he slowly marked her skin with every passing touch. Lucifer, instead dipped down and spread her thighs, enjoying the way they felt in his hands. Slowly kissing up her thighs, just barely ghosting over where she needed him most, Lillith let out a soft moan. 

“Sweetheart, see what you do to me? You are absolutely breathtaking.”

Finally giving into her whimpers, Lucifer licked one long stripe up her dripping slit only for his head to be pulled back; moaning at the impact with his hair. 

“Did I say you could taste her, mhmm? No, but you had to go a be a greedy little thing huh darling?” Tossing Lucifer on the bed, Y/N towered over him. 

“Now you’re going to be good and make me feel good yeah? Yeah, that’s right.” Snapping his fingers, Lucifer ended up behind Y/N. Understanding his job, Lucifer lined up his aching member to the angel’s hole and slid in slowly. Y/N gasped at the stretch, gripping the sheets with each small thrust. Lillith whimpered at the sight, both aroused but feeling neglected as her weeping cunt was slick and cold. 

“Poor thing, don’t worry—ahh fuck—I’ll take care of you sweetheart.” Diving into Lillith’s pussy, despite the, while timid, assualt from behind, Y/N relentessly sucked and licked on that sweet spot like a man starved, sucking on her clit and slurping her jucies tin a way that made it seem like it was better than heavenly ambrosia. It was only a matter of time before that familiar band became taut in her stomach. 

“Fuck, Y/N…..sir, please.”

“Let go my poisonberry, let sweetheart cum all over my face.” 

That’s what did it, Lillith felt the coil in her stomach snap as she cried Y/N’s name. Cum now coated his face and the bedsheets below as her high overtook her senses/ Lifting his head up slowly, slick shone and glinted. Licking his lips, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips and both moaned at the salty taste. Pulling back, Y/N halted Lucifer’s movements, who whimpered at the loss of friction. 

With another snap, Lucifer and Lillith has switched positions, Lillith now adoring a vibrant purple strap. “Do me a favor and do better than ducky here okay Lilly?  So senstive couldn’t even fuck right.” 

With a flash of her teeth, Lillith snapped her hips foward, allowing Y/N but a moment to enjoy the new intrusion. “Shit—ahh…just like that.....don’t think I forgot about you yet Luci~”. 

And that’s how the night continued. Despite the waging war and death outside the windows, some semblance of love could prevail. They say love and hope are fragil things, soft as a feather. But in reality, they are both fighters, wiping the blood from their brows and rising again for the next round to defend the things they hold dear. And so in the darkness, bodies strewn together in a hopeful loving haze of lust and adoration; each person in their own right rose and fought for each other simply by allowing themselves the vulerabiluty of an intimacy forbidden by even God. 

[yuesya]

Aventurine tilts the wineglass in his hands. A careless, indolent gesture. Light catches onto the glass rim at this angle, bright and sharp.

Rapid footsteps sound outside the doorway, indicative of a brisk run. Then it ceases, followed by a perfunctory knock, and then the door swings open–

“My sincerest apologies for the wait, sir.” The man who enters the room is well-dressed, with oiled hair slicked back neatly upon his head. There’s a deeply fake smile stretched wide over his lips –or at least, the joy within the expression is feigned, but the greed is real. “It is a great honor to receive a guest such as yourself to our humble establishment.”

Aventurine answers with his own friendly smile. One that is equally fake as the one that he’s presented with, although less overtly so.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he says, lifting the wineglass raised between his fingers just slightly so. He does not rise from his seat to greet the other man.

“Please, the pleasure is all mine.” The man’s smile twitches, but he visibly reins himself in and refrains from expressing any sign of discontent at the treatment. “If any of the arrangements or other services during your wait are lacking to your tastes, I must deeply apologize again. We were not expecting to receive such distinguished personnel from the IPC.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” Aventurine responds casually.

The man licks his lips. “… If I may ask, honored guest… what is it among the wares of this lowly auction house that has caught the IPC’s attention?”

Impatient, and greedy. Hmm. 

In that case… 

“Ah, that.” Aventurine pauses, noting the unconscious manner in which the man’s fingers rub together, the unblinking attention that hangs on to his every word. “It seems that I must disappoint you, then. Aventurine is not present on behalf of the IPC.”

The man’s expression falls swiftly, his disappointment a dark storm. “That, that’s…”

Aventurine ignores the stuttering.

“I’m merely here to kill some time,” he laughs, “Don’t think too much about it. Unless, do you really think that you’re in possession of something that the IPC would be interested in? I’m not averse to assessing the product and perhaps making a deal, if that’s really the case.”

Red colors the man’s face, but to his credit, he does not lose his composure. “… Surely you jest, sir. If we knowingly possessed something of that value, then we would’ve left this planet for greener pastures a long time ago.”

“Oh? So I suppose your auction house holds nothing of interest, then?” Aventurine arches an eyebrow.

The man grits his teeth. “… Nothing that would be of any worth to the IPC, perhaps. But you seem like a man who is appreciative of the finer things in life, and… and, our auction house is renowned in these parts for luxury items. I am quite certain that there will be something in our catalogue that will suit your tastes!”

Ha.

A small-time auction house like this… if someone like one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC were in attendance to one of their auctions, it would be a massive boost to their reputation, and open many doors for him. Hence the man’s initial delight in Aventurine’s arrival. His hope plummeted upon hearing that the IPC was uninvolved, however. And now that Aventurine himself made it clear that he was only here on a whim, and fast losing interest…

The auction owner was desperate to entice him into staying.

For a small planet like this, there was quite a broad range of selections that the man was presenting before him. Exotic delicacies, uncanny knickknacks, rare materials…

“–a-and we have new additions to the choice of personal servants, as well!” Sweat beads upon the man’s brow at Aventurine’s continued disinterest. “There’s an albino Foxian, very sweet and obedient, although she’s quite young. I-if young children aren’t to your liking, then there are also other options! We have a lovely young lady with very pretty eyes, almost like gemstones–”

There it is.

… The entire reason why Aventurine is even bothered to be in a place like this at all.

“Pretty eyes?” Aventure stretches and yawns exaggeratedly, finally cutting off the man’s tirade. “Even prettier than mine?”

The man freezes. Triumph blatantly flashes across his expression, before he swiftly ducks his head.

“A slightly different kind of beauty, if I might offer my humble opinion,” he says. “She’s a recent acquisition, from one of the war-ravaged worlds –a lucky find; our suppliers there usually bring in malnourished children, but that’s been growing steadily more difficult, ever since that singer from The Family traveled there in person and started interfering.”

Frustration. The man sucks in a deep breath.

“But this time, they found a lovely little bird,” he continues smugly. “One with silvery hair, and gorgeous blue eyes that gleam like jewels when they catch the light just right.”

“Like jewels, you say?”

“Quite so.” The man lifts his gaze to carefully study his reactions. Aventurine’s smile does not waver under the unsubtle scrutiny. “Ordinarily, the goods of our auction are not to be displayed before the auction begins, but… for an honored guest such as yourself, exceptions can definitely be made.”

‘Goods,’ he says. Slavery.

Aventurine remembers the pain of the brand being burned into his neck, of the days when he’d been bought and as considered nothing but merchandise–

The Avgins of Sigonia are dead.

… Aventurine knows this.

And yet, there is still a part of him that cannot help but… pay attention to trivial, useless things, even when the chance of any survivors aside from himself is bleak.

An auction selling a young, pretty girl with beautiful eyes, found from one of the neighboring planets beside Sigonia-IV?

Even if it’s a long shot, Aventurine still…

…

“Since she’s such a new acquisition, there hasn’t been time to train her properly yet. But, fear not! I am sure that she will–”

The man breaks off with a startled yelp as the entire building suddenly shakes.

Briefly, there is silence.

And then–

The screaming starts.

Pain. Terror.

Aventurine ignores the panicked, incoherent blubbering next to him, and promptly rises to his feet.

[jamethinks]

Eden regularly has bananas, and most of the students think nothing of them as they have regular access to them and other tropical fruits. However, someone like Yor who grew up in abject poverty would be very excited over bananas and be unfamiliar with them. Since Twilight grew up near the border of France, he did get to eat a fair amount of bananas growing up, but to him, it was more of a peasant snack. Anya, on the other hand, never actually knew about bananas until she got to Eden and didn't even know how to eat them. The lab had her on a strict diet and rarely gave her any exotic fruits sticking mainly to apples. The orphanage obviously didn't have any bananas. Since Twilight saw it as poor people food, he didn't think to buy any, and Yor obviously spent most of her life without them, so she never had the urge to buy any. Eventually, Anya arrives at Eden and just doesn't recognize them at all. The kids try to mock her with them, it's believed that lower class Ostanians are obsessed with bananas because they're so rare (Yor is proof that this is not the case) so they assume Anya would be hyped to see them. Instead, she's just confused and wants to stick with her peanuts.

Tldr: Anya was so poor she didn't even know what a banana was.

Hc context: Since I hc Ostania as having intense class divide and a very millitaristic culture, I do think bananas can be a delicacy but rather a forced delicacy. Strong import policies in Ostania make it hard to get bananas in the country. Therefore, there is a discrepancy between the demand and availability. This allows sellers to inflate the costs of bananas, making it a luxury item. So now access to bananas is a form of class identification.

Refer to my last post about bananas for more info

[journeytothewestresearch]

DnD and Taoism

My friend @digitalagepulao recently told me about the "Heroes' Feast" from Dungeons & Dragons.

This reminded me of the Xingchu (行厨, "Traveling Canteen or Mobile Kitchen") from circa 4th-century CE Taoist literature. Immortals can summon this spirit cookery to feed guests with celestial food:

Another indication that the [immortal cultivator]’s alternative cuisine featured marvelous and exotic ingredients is the curious business of the “traveling canteen,” “mobile kitchen,” or cuisines de voyage (as xingchu 行厨 has been variously rendered), a sumptuous banquet of delicacies served up by spirits anywhere on command to those who know how to summon it. The ability to summon the traveling canteen allowed for easy procurement of distant, rare foodstuffs. In Traditions [of Divine Transcendents] we read that the adept Li Gen “could sit down and cause the traveling canteen to arrive, and with it could serve twenty guests. All the dishes were finely prepared, and all of them contained strange and marvelous foods from the four directions, not things that were locally available.” In the hagiography of Wang Yuan and Ma gu (Maid Ma) we read: When they were both seated, they called for the traveling canteen. The servings were piled up on gold platters and in jade cups without limit. There were rare delicacies, many of them made from flowers and fruits, and their fragrance permeated the air inside [their host Cai Jing’s home] and out. When the meat was sliced and served, [in flavor] it resembled broiled mo, and was announced as kirin meat (Campany, 2002, p. 29).

This could be an interesting alternative for anyone who has set their DnD campaign in a world inspired by Asian fantasy.

Source:

Campany, R. F. (2002). To Live as Long as Heaven and Earth: A Translation and Study of Ge Hong’s Traditions of Divine Transcendents. United Kingdom: University of California Press.

[I have attached a PDF of the book above. But a weird glitch has made all the Fs in words with double Fs disappear (e.g. "o er" instead of "offer"). Please keep this in mind.]

[thecreaturecodex]

Redback Gorger

Image by Johnny Duddle, © Simon and Schuster

[Sponsored by @glarnboudin. An Awfully Beastly Business is a series of chapter books for young readers, set at a nature reserve for monsters. I read the first of them, and it was okay I guess. I'm definitely not in the target audience for them, but likewise if I was eight to ten when they came out, I could see myself having fixated on them. The redback is the cover monster of the second book, Sea Monsters and Other Delicacies, in which the villains hope to use it as the centerpiece of a seafood feast of exotic monsters. In order to avoid giving the redback just an adjective name, I resorted to the "adjective verber" formula beloved of Magic the Gathering and 4e D&D.]

Redback Gorger CR 17 N Magical Beast This creature resembles an octopus with the face of a frogfish. It has a craggy exoskeleton covering its body, studded with red plates along its back. It has eight tentacles, each of which is as thick as a tree trunk and lined with suckers that ooze a black resin. Growing from its head is a very long, flexible appendage ending in an eyeless blue snake’s head.

Redback gorgers are among the rarest of sea monsters—rarely is there more than one adult per ocean basin on any given planet. They are long-lived ambush predators—they spend most of their time resting or slowly swimming along the abyssal plains, then move higher into the water column to hunt. Although their jaws and tentacles are strong, they prefer to incapacitate their prey by injecting it with a super-cooled venom, carried in the fangs of their false head. The false head can smell, hear and sense heat, and can strike around cover. The redback gorger feeds primarily on large fish and small whales, which it paralyzes with its venom and then swallows without a struggle.

Despite their massive territorial requirements and rarity, redback gorgers can communicate through infrasound vocalization, similarly to whales and elephants, and use this to demarcate territorial boundaries and determine fertility status. Redbacks mate only once or twice in their long lives, but produce around a million tiny planktonic eggs during each mating event. The vast majority of larval redbacks are eaten while still tiny and planktonic.  On the rare occasions a redback gorger appears on the surface, it may probe its surroundings with this false head, giving the impression that a sea serpent or plesiosaur lurks below the surface instead of a much more dangerous predator. They can survive on land for brief periods, but only emerge onto land as an act of desperation.

Redback Gorger              CR 17 XP 102,400 N Gargantuan magical beast (aquatic) Init +6; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +18, tremorsense 60 ft.

Defense AC 32, touch 9, flat-footed 29 (-4 size, +2 Dex, +1 dodge, +23 natural) hp 283 (21d10+168) Fort +20, Ref +14, Will +14 DR 10/magic; Resist cold 20,electricity 20, fire 20; SR 28 Defensive Abilities deep dweller, fortification (50%)

Offense Speed 30 ft., swim 50 ft. Melee bite +27 (2d8+10 plus grab), sting +27 (2d6+10/19-20 plus poison), 8 tentacles +25 (1d8+5) Space 20 ft.; Reach 15 ft. (30 ft. with sting) Special Attacks critical envenomation, swallow whole (AC 23, 28 hp, 4d6+16 bludgeoning)

Statistics Str 30, Dex 15, Con 27, Int 2, Wis 20, Cha 16 Base Atk +21; CMB +39 (+43 grapple); CMD 62 Feats Blind Fight, Combat Reflexes, Critical Focus,Dodge, Improved Critical (sting), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Mobility, Multiattack, Power Attack, Spring Attack Skills Climb +15, Perception +18, Stealth +0 (+12 underwater), Swim +23; Racial Modifiers +12 Stealth underwater SQ water dependency

Ecology Environment any ocean Organization solitary or pair Treasure none

Special Abilities Critical Envenomation (Ex) If a redback gorger succeeds on a critical hit with its sting attack, it injects two doses of its poison simultaneously. Deep Dweller (Ex) A redback gorger is immune to cold and pressure damage due to water depth, and can move vertically through the water column without penalty. False Head (Ex) A redback gorger’s sting attack can move around obstacles, allowing it to ignore any cover except for full cover. Poison (Ex) Sting—injury; save Fort DC 28; duration 4 rounds; effect 4d6 cold damage and 1d6 Dex drain; cure 2 saves. Tentacles (Ex) A redback gorger’s tentacles are treated as a single secondary attack.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Arrows (Special Request) - Doc - Part 3

Part 3 of Arrow. Reference to Found Footage. If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved!

Also: got a new Poll up for your thoughts! Should Doc Have Her Own Blog?

Warnings: This one's pretty mild - descriptions of pain, some guilt... I think that's about it

WC: 2,458 - I'm thinking one more chapter will finish this off

If I looked for it, if I let my mind fade into the hum of overhead lights and focused only on each fractured inhale, I could just taste the scent of autumn flowers, that rich earthiness lingering from mere hours prior when Hunter laid here instead of me; when the ship was blessed with a rare moment of quiet that we coveted for too little time. I wondered if he gleaned comfort from my scent during those precious few moments of peace, or if my presence had become so commonplace that he barely noticed it anymore.

And the others? What tiny details caught their attention when reality simply became too much to take in at once? Did Crosshair count the scratches on the durasteel walls? Did Tech run through impossible equations in his mind? Is that why Wrecker so frequently sought out the simple tooka doll? To distract himself with the sensation of static wrought by gently grinding the stuffing between his callused fingers? And Echo…

I remembered the first day he finally let me help him. I remembered how hesitant he was; how he’d nearly fled before allowing my touch too near the nodes of metal lining his spine; how violent his relief had been when my hands soothed the ache from muscles desperate for a release his body simple couldn’t grant him anymore. I remembered the tears we never spoke of and the stillness as I’d simply held him after. Where did he seek refuge when the memories threatened to overwhelm him? When the ache of limbs lost long ago resurfaced absent cause or hope for reprieve?

I wanted to hide in the shattered recess of my psyche, safe from the hurt and cold, set apart from the body he’d helped place atop a cot that was never meant to be anyone’s bed for long. I wanted to pretend that when I woke from this half-dream I would find us still soaring through the in-between of hyperspace, that it might be a rare morning in which I rose before the others and could lure them into the kitchenette with the scent of fresh caf and some delicacy snuck aboard from one of the exotic markets of some far away world. I wanted anything but for my mind to be dragged back into the ruined form too weak even to shake beneath the chill dancing atop skin aching beneath its own weight.

“-at me! Come on…” Echo… I didn’t want to hear the fear in words he forced into a whisper.

“Please… Come on, I need you to look at me.” I didn’t want to feel the subtle tremor in the gentle touch of his hand against my jaw, the desperation in how his thumb swept so carefully atop my cheek; the broken prayer of my name murmured in a voice that seemed to resonate through me in a delicate rush of heat.

But, once more, he called my name, and I knew I would endure this agony for eternity if only to free him of the sorrow in his voice. I wanted to sob beneath the understanding that I’d never really escaped the pain, that what madness feigned reprieve had merely lulled me into a denial that could only ever end like this: thrown back into a hurt too great for the nerves to ever stop screaming. Hot. Cold. Pain. Pressure. Every sensation overstimulated into a deafening noise rekindled by the ceaseless racing of my heart. Still, I forced myself to look for him, gaze sweeping blindly before me for a long moment before finding the brilliant amber of his eyes.

“Hey-hey; good,” The words escaped him in a gasp of relief, fingers flaring out to hold my face like I might fade again at any moment. “You stay with me, Doc. Don’t scare me like that again.” I shifted slightly into his palm, movement delayed beneath exhaustion, but the hint of a smile flitting at the edges of his lips was worth the effort.        

“Tech’s making progress on figuring out how to communicate with the locals.” He explained, the already smooth cadence of his voice slowing even further. “It won’t be much longer before he gets a cure from them for whatever gunk they coated their arrows with.” I could just make out Tech’s crisp voice in the distance, but I couldn’t understand any words. It took a long moment to realize he wasn’t speaking common, that whatever dialect he was working to understand more closely resembled Geonosian, and I had little hope in trying to grasp some meaning behind the guttural clicks and growls. Abandoning the attempt, I let my attention return to eyes still heavy with worry.

“With there being a sentient race here, the mission’s voided until the senate works out a charter with them.” He explained, and I didn’t doubt that he knew how I was relying on the familiar sound of his voice to ground myself, to keep my fractured glimmer of awareness focused on him lest I recede back into the corner of my mind where nothing quite existed. “That means as soon as we know you’re alright, we can leave; so, you just hold on a little longer, okay?”

I think I nodded, but with how the room spun, it was hard to tell. I tried not to think about it; tried not to think of the ache in my chest that only grew beneath my heart’s frantic pace, the effort it took to drag each panted, shallow gasp through my abused throat despite how the raw flesh balked from even that fleeting caress of air; the distant sensation of having sprinted to the point of collapse and forcing myself to continued regardless how acid filled my veins and every cell was begging me to stop.

“… awake?” Voices hummed somewhere nearby.

“Not really.” I didn’t realize I’d fallen back into that haze until hearing them. “She’s been… not really sleeping, but…” Echo struggled slightly to explain before adding, “Her heartrate’s finally starting to come down, though.” As soon as he said it, I realized he was right and felt myself relax slightly into the worn cot.

“That is… a relief.” Despite his words, there was still a tension in his voice that my mind rebelled against. “Beta blockers can take some time to begin working, and I was unsure if they would even be effective given the nature of the toxin.” When I managed to look up at him, he held the med-scanner over me, attention locked on the screen with the same steadfastness as he granted his datapad.

“Tech.” Echo called, and I could hear the smirk on his lips. His brother glanced briefly toward him before turning his gaze to me, and, for just a moment, he froze.

“Ah… hm…” For those first few seconds, he seemed torn between wanting to say too many things at once yet unable to remember how to speak, and, Maker, if seeing him stammer didn’t bring the threat of a chuckle to me. He must have seen the hint of a smile, seen the fond affection in my eyes because only then did he finally seem to breathe, shoulders loosening as he allowed himself to smile back.

“I was successful in establishing a means of communication with the natives.” He explained, voice quieting as he set the scanner down to gently place his hand over mine. “We’ll have to travel to their colony to retrieve it, but I assure you, we’ll return as quickly as we can.” I wanted to ask him what he’d learned, wanted to remind him that it was okay for him to feel the thrill of excitement at discovering this new people, but, with a fleeting squeeze that reminded me of the strange numbness stealing through that limb, he turned and walked quickly from the room.

“Crosshair and I are staying with you.” Echo reassured me as I stared at the door for a beat too long. Before I could gather breath to reply, that door opened once more as Hunter and Wrecker approached me, strides just shy of rushed. Echo reluctantly stepped away for Wrecker to reach me, massive hands enveloping mine as he nearly trembled before me.

“I’m sorry, Doc; I should’a been payin’ closer attention…” My heart broke at the guilt in those gentle eyes. “I should’ve heard ‘em or”

“Shh-shh.” It was quiet, and it was weak, but Wrecker instantly stilled at that soothing sound. My fingers shifted listlessly in a vain attempt to hold him. Despite the faltering movements, he understood, grip tightened carefully around me. “Be… b…” Lips and tongue listless beneath what ragged breath I forced through my ruined throat, the tattered snips of speech escaped me sounded more akin to a wheeze than a word.

“It’s a’right – promise. We’re”

“Be c… care-f-full.” He instantly fell silent at the strangled words, gaze dropping to watch his thumbs shift lightly atop my wrist, brows furrowing deeper with each passing second.

“We will.” He whispered, glancing almost shyly toward me. Movements nothing if not careful, he set my hand back atop the cot and turned to rejoin Tech, leaving Hunter and me alone.

Without hesitation, he let his hands cup my face, let his forehead fall to rest lightly atop mine as his chest swelled with slow, deep breaths, and I felt the fear that wanted to ruin him; I felt the tension so nearly causing those hands to shake, but I also felt the breadth of determination driving his every movement, and, when he shifted to touch his lips to my brow, when he lingered in that tender kiss, I couldn’t doubt him.

“Promise me you’ll hold on.” He begged, words fluttering across my scalp.

“Ca… can’t get… rid o… of me.” Despite the terrible weakness in those fractured murmurs, there was a smile on his lips as he pulled back to meet my eyes. The reverent dance of his touch sweeping delicately along the curve of my cheeks sent a warmth through me that, if only for a moment, let me forget the crippling pain twisting through my knee and shoulder, the nauseating war of blinding heat and that terrible cold churning beneath my skin. He held me, and I existed only in the quiet in his eyes, the too-quick eternity in those few seconds of reaching for words neither of us could quite speak.

And then the muscles of his jaw bunched, teeth clicking together as he dragged his gaze from mine, hands pausing just a moment longer before returning to his sides. With a final deep breath, he left as well.

In those stolen seconds free of guilt-ridden eyes, I let myself crumble, face twisting beneath the agony I’d fought so hard to mask in the face of the others. My head craned back into the thin pillow, heel dragging uselessly atop the mattress as breaths I’d fought to keep steady shattered into sobs that I still struggled to force into a hard-won silence, hand reaching up to claw uselessly at my ruined shoulder.

I heard the hiss of the door but wasn’t able to fight myself back into that earlier façade before the approaching footsteps stopped sharply. Caught in that moment of weakness, my teeth locked around my lower lip, shame and sorrow twisted across my face as I glanced up. The dark understanding in Crosshair’s gaze robbed me of that shame, and I found myself unable to even try vailing the depth of hurt torturing me without it, eyes sliding shut as my chest hitched. His touch whispered so softly over my shin, I almost doubted its existence until the gentle rasp of his voice hovered just above the tense silence around us.

“What can I do?” It was a rare thing to hear that softness from him; the faintest hint of a plea just brushing past his lips.

His jaw tensed. In silence, he tread to the far wall, meticulously removing his armor with practiced ease to rest atop the counter. Hand lingering atop that final bit of plastoid, he hesitated, but when he turned back to me, those eyes were quiet in a way I wasn’t used to, and I found myself frozen as he returned to my bedside, as he eased his arm beneath my uninjured shoulder, hand slipping down to wrap around my back, and he lowered himself onto the very edge of the cot, embrace tightening just enough to gently pull me against him until he lay nestled beneath me.

“S… s-stay.” I hated how the word fluttered from me in that desperate whimper, but the overwhelming need for something, anything to distract myself from feeling my veins carrying poison and pain and fire throughout every inch of me overruled what pride might otherwise have stilled my tongue. He didn’t move for a long moment, gaze burring into mine with an attentiveness that was once unsettling, but now I yearned for the comfort of that gaze, the innate safety in it.

“This okay?” I remembered him asking me that once before and found myself nodding against him just as I’d done then, cheek dragging over the coveted warmth of his chest. I could feel the thrum of his heart, felt the powerful, slow beats count the seconds with a leisurely calm I so desperately clung to, mind instantly focusing on that steady rhythm, on the tentative brush of his hands over the base of my ribs, the soft weight of his chin resting lightly atop the crown of my head.

Maker, I wanted to sleep; to vanish for just a moment into that emptiness as I melted into the safety of his embrace. I ached beneath the weight of an exhaustion so deep, the simple act of drawing breath was quickly becoming an insurmountable task. Some distant whisper of logic told me it was from the toxin, remembered Tech stating that it blocked some autonomic functions, but that knowledge offered no reprieve.

“m…m s-so… tired…” I sobbed, straining to press closer to him. Instantly his arm tightened, and I could feel him shift to look at me. The gentle caress of his fingers trailing through my hair drew my gaze up to him, and I knew he saw the threat of hopelessness in me as his jaw worked subtly over words he hadn’t yet settled on.

“Close your eyes.” He barely breathed the quiet words. I started to tell him I couldn’t, that my body simply refused to grant me that escape, but then his hand settled softly over my eyes, and, in the darkness, there was only his touch, the gentle dance of his heartbeat, the strength of him surrounding me, and I readily lost myself in him.

Next Chapter

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[bluberimufim]

This is something I NEED to know

I've read a lot of books (written by non-mediterraneans) where they are super not normal about olive oil and I need to check something

Reblog for sample size yadda yadda and tell me where you're from

[batterymaster01]

Shovelfolk Agriculture & Cuisine

Some common dishes in the cultures of the Shovelfolk (Astutocentaurus alluvium).

The Shovelfolk are sometimes regarded as the "inventors of agriculture" by the other native sapients. In addition to their surprisingly advanced metallurgic techniques and masonry, they have been farming for over 3 million years, countless eons before most of the other currently extant native sapients even came to be. Quite a few of the planet's most widely used crops, such as the wheat-like réhä used to make bread, are believed to have originally been invented by their people.

Shovelfolk are similar to the more cosmopolitan Fauns in that they are omnivores, eating mostly starchy vegetation supplemented by some quantity of meat, eggs, and fruit. Due to the ample supply of water and minerals offered by the Takaran River, most Shovelfolk cultures are almost obligately agricultural, relying on both the running water of the river and the fertile land on the riverbank to grow their own food. Like many Astutocentaurine cultures, there is a conspicuous lack of dairy in the diets of Shovelfolk, since none of the known animals on Athyrmagaia lactate in a mammalian fashion.

To disrupt the local ecosystem as little as possible, the majority of the crops they grow are derived from species native to the area. The most common crops in their daily regimen are réhä and hetūt, the former a grain-like species of star grass and the latter an edible root. Réhä is used in a similar manner as wheat, often being ground up and then baked to make bread, whereas hetūt is more akin to a potato or turnip and can be eaten either raw or cooked. They also use zhėgel, a more primitive, water-intensive plant vaguely similar to sugarcane, to make various simple sweet treats. In addition to terrestrial crops, they also use the mineral-rich waters of the Takara to cultivate various freshwater aquatic plants as a food source. The leaves of zhattrekekc aquaphytes are used in much the same way as the leaves of lettuce, and the seeds of secondarily aquatic hehhel plants are used as a peppercorn-like seasoning.

Although mainly farmers of locally grown produce, Shovelfolk have also been known to forage for food both near and beyond the riverbank, as well as engage in occasional trade with other cultures for more exotic ingredients. During their annual pilgrimages in search of resources, namely the metals found near volcanoes, they often either harvest (or purchase) foreign spices and herbs to bring home, including those used for medicines that cannot be found in their homeland. Those who live near the coasts often travel closer to shore to harvest sea salt as a condiment and a food preservative. When harvesting fruit, which is relatively rare in the Western Weave, they will rely on the help of allied Oliphaunts, since the only plants that bear palatable fruit in the region are enormous umbrynoids that are often too tall for the tiny Shovelfolk to scale on their own.

Unlike many other agricultural peoples, Shovelfolk do not raise livestock for meat. Their primary source of carnal cuisine is a selectively bred species of tumeofauna known locally as "mėbé." Although it is technically an animal, mėbé grows and behaves more like sessile fungi, which means it is considered a "crop" rather than a form of livestock. Mėbé is farmed underground within the warren in a special higher-humidity chamber, where it is kept fed by organic refuse. Mėbé nodes are usually either eaten raw or cooked, and are a common ingredient of more savory Shovelfolk meals. That being said, they do still make ample use of other animal products as food and resources. Their sole livestock animal, the crawpig, regularly lays infertile eggs that are often eaten as a delicacy and used to make dough, and some of their more unusual dishes are given flavor by being boiled in the animal's urine. Shovelfolk are also known to eat fish and insects, and they will often sun-dry worms to eat as a snack.

[averycutesalamander]

❦❦ lover of all things reader insert || boothill is my wife ❦❦

💚 masterlist!! 💚

find me on ao3!!

current WIPs:

⚘ Merciful Teeth, Covetous Tongue

currently 10k+ words || NSFT / 18+ || fem and afab reader

You've always been terribly shy about asking for what you want. Boothill decides that it's time for an intervention – and he has the perfect plan to set you straight.

⚘ Decadent Fruit, Tenderly Cut

currently 9k+ words || NSFT / 18+ || fem and afab reader

A rare opportunity allows you and Boothill to visit a relatively quiet jungle planet together. You’re thrilled to sample all of the bizarre and exotic local delicacies; he’s more inclined to sample you.

⚘ Hungry Hands, Tightly Tied

currently 2k+ words || NSFT / 18+ || fem and afab reader

You’d long accepted that part of dating Boothill would inevitably involve many months of waiting for his return from his hunt. He worries for you, naturally; as a wanted man, there are many that would be happy to hurt you, were you to be found. To ease his mind, you agree to let him teach you some self defense techniques. The problem is that he gets a little too much pleasure out of watching you try to pin him down, and you get a little too much pleasure out of having him underneath you.

⚘ Loving Wolf, Willing Lamb

currently 15k+ words || NSFT / 18+ || fem and afab reader

It all started because of one innocent comment. An idle thought, a casual aside – something you probably didn't think twice about. Boothill, however… He's thought about it many, many times. Or: The two of you go hiking. You suggest that you play a little game; Boothill is all too eager to accept.

⚘ Dizzy Heat, Cloyingly Sweet

currently 14k+ words || NSFT / 18+ || fem and afab reader

You and Boothill play a rather simple game of pretend – one where you act like perfect strangers at a bar, and like you don’t want him to drug your drink. 

⚘ Saccharine Blood Feast

currently 6k+ words total || SFW || gn reader

When he returns from an adventure, Boothill finds that his home village has been razed to the ground by King Oswaldo’s army to harvest the gold it was built upon. With his tears wetting the ashes of his family on the ground, he vows to sacrifice anything and everything to have his revenge.  He recalls Nick’s stories of a dragon god said to slumber nearby – one that could turn its subjects into wielders of great power. With nowhere else to turn and no better ideas, he sets off to search for you. Little does he know, his wish won't be so simple to fulfill – and there is a reason that no one from his village ever worshiped you. 

WIP list is roughly in order of priority

all of my fics should be poc reader friendly!! pls let me know if i make any mistakes 🙏

if you are pro-censorship / are an anti, we probably won't get along! just a fair warning :)

[francesminos-tt]

this was my reaction reading about loras and joff 👇🏻

I just LOVED them together! being the possessive and protective bastard that he is, how would joff (and daeron) react to finding out that lores is having an affair with an alpha?

and please when you want write a scene of joff being a little soft when observing daeron and loras interaction and realizing that maybe they are a family... :)

I wrote another chapter of Loras and toxic couple Joffron. Hope you will like it.

Loras had been having a limp for about week now. The boy tried to hide it, and honestly, he did a decent job, but none of his pained hiss escaped Joffrey’s observant eyes. The limp was in Loras’s left leg, perhaps a sprained ankle, or badly bruised shin. Joffrey wouldn't know, because he hadn’t asked Loras about it. From his experience, there was little chance that Loras’s limp was caused by an accident. The boy was Joffrey’s personal servant, more like personal companion at this point. Loras didn't need to do any heavy work. Helping Joffrey dress and bringing him meals wouldn't leave the boy with a limp. If Loras were clumsy enough to fall down the stairs and sprain his ankle while running errands for Joffrey, the prince wouldn't take the boy in in the first place.

In conclusion, Joffrey guessed Loras’s limp was caused by a fight. It was the only explanation, and not a surprising one, actually. Loras was a bastard from Flea Bottom, having no proper training whatsoever, but managed to become Prince Joffrey’s favorite overnight. He was even rumored to be Prince Daeron’s bastard, though he didn't really bear much resemblance to the Targaryen prince except for the hair. Even the hair was a stretch. Prince Daeron had typical Targaryen silver hair, always groomed nicely, not a single strand of curls out of place, while Loras had sandy blonde hair, tangled and messy like a bird’s nest. It was like comparing a piece of dirty linen with fine silk, yet no gossiper seemed to care about the fact. Prince Joffrey keeping his husband’s bastard was juicy enough to be the gossip of the year.

A lowborn boy like Loras getting the privilege that most would consider beyond him was enough reason to make other servants jealous. Joffrey knew how cruel servants were. It was a miracle that Loras managed to get away with only a limp.

“Do you need more wine, my prince?”

Loras’s voice pulled Joffrey out of his thoughts. Joffrey lifted his head, looking straight into Loras’s blue eyes. The boy didn’t flinch, a sharp contrast to when he had first arrived in the castle. Loras used to flinch every time Joffrey raised his voice, but now, the boy wouldn't even look up when Joffrey and Daeron got into another fight.

“No, I am good.” Joffrey replied, putting his wine goblet down, “I can use more lime pie though.”

Loras seemed surprised to hear the request. Prince Joffrey wasn’t much of a dessert person, at least not openly, so it was rare for him to ask for extra dessert.

“Right away, my prince.” Loras bowed before heading to the door. He needed to go down to the kitchen to get another piece of pie, for the kitchen staff had only prepared one for the prince’s dinner. Loras’s left ankle didn’t bother him too much by now, but walking down the stairs was still a challenge. Luckily, Prince Joffrey wouldn't be there to watch him wince.

“Make sure to fetch yourself one as well.” Joffrey said before the boy left the room.

Loras nodded and bowed again. He couldn't keep the smile off his face the entire journey down to the kitchen. He loved his master. Prince Joffrey might look intimidating sometimes, but Loras knew the prince had a kind heart. In fact, Prince Joffrey was the kindest person he had ever known. Who else would allow his servant to dine with him at the same table? Joffrey always tried to make Loras eat all the exotic foods that the prince could get his hands on, wild games, imported delicacies, exotic spices, etc. Joffrey would make an excuse saying Loras was his food taster, but Loras noticed the prince didn't even touch half of the food he ordered. He ordered them for Loras, a boy with no home, no parents and nowhere to go.

Loras descended the stairs as carefully as he could. He didn't want to make his master wait, but at the same time, he didn't want to put more pressure on his ankle either. He suspected his lousy acting was not enough to fool Prince Joffrey, but the prince never asked about his limp. Perhaps it was the best. Loras did not want to bother his master. He got into a fight and lost. It certainly was no bragging material.

The kitchen was located in the lower floor of the keep, away from royal quarters. Loras could hear the bustling noise and smell the delicious food before the kitchen came into view. He had gotten familiar with most of the kitchen staff by now, so no one questioned him as he entered the steaming hot kitchen and asked for more dessert.

“That’s rare for Prince Joffrey to order extra dessert.” The butter lady said, “Are these for his husband? Prince Daeron has a sweet tooth.”

Loras wasn’t sure if the later part was true. In the months he had spent dining with his master, often times Prince Daeron was there too, but he had never once seen Prince Daeron reach out for sweets. Prince Daeron preferred poultry to red meat, and some light-bodied wine to go with his food, but Loras never see him having a sweet tooth. Come to think of it, it was Prince Joffrey who always ate two portions of dessert whenever he and Prince Daeron shared a meal.

“It’s for Prince Joffrey himself.” Loras replied simply.

“Really? That’s surprising. Usually Prince Daeron is the one to have extra desserts brought to his quarters.” The butter lady raised a curious eyebrow, “Why the sudden change of appetite? Blimey, is Prince Joffrey with child?”

“I don’t know.” Loras answered honestly. He really didn’t. He would be glad if Prince Joffrey did manage to get pregnant since Loras could tell he and his husband loved each other, in a twisted way, but love nonetheless. However, Loras doubted that was the case.

“You are no fun, boy.” The butter lady scoffed, but did not stop loading Loras’s tray with lime pies and an extra plate of colorful meringues.

Loras thanked her before leaving. He carefully balanced the tray on his arm when he climbed the stairs back up. He made an effort not to put too much pressure on his left ankle, opting to use his right foot first. It was clumsy and slow, but that was the best he could do.

“Look who it is. It’s Loras the loser!”

Someone said from above, but Loras couldn't see the person’s face, for his view was blocked by the piling desserts. Fortunately, he didn't really need to see to know who the annoying boy was. It was one of the squires, a boy almost twice Loras’s size.

“What do you want, Bernard?” Loras asked, already trying to find a way out of this situation.

“What are you doing? Stealing food from the kitchen?” Bernard took a piece of meringues and shoved it into his mouth, “You don't deserve to eat such delicacies, scum.”

“I am bring food to Prince Joffrey.” Loras said, trying to hide the tray behind him, “If you only want to mock me, pick another time. I am busy now.”

“Do not talk to me like that, scum.” Bernard lowered his voice in a warning way, “Mentioning Prince Joffrey’s name won't make you any nobler. You are just a gutter rat from Flea Bottom, while I come from a family of knights. You should learn to respect your superior.”

Loras didn’t need Bernard to remind him of his low birth, neither did he need any instructions on how to address a superior. He had plenty of experience. He came from the lowest of the low places in Flea Bottom, so anyone was a superior to him, including actual rats. At least a gutter rat wouldn't worry about its next meal. However, his master told him not all superior deserved respect. In Loras’s opinion, Bernard certainly was not one of those respectful superiors.

“I let you beat me up, and put up with you and your friends’ insult. I thinks I have showed enough respect.” Loras said. He probably shouldn’t have said it in such a mocking way, but he couldn't help it. If Prince Joffrey had taught anything, mockery was surely one of them.

“Showing off your slippery tongue, are you?” Bernard flashed an evil smile and took a step down the stairs, his tall body towering over Loras, “Let’s see what excuse you will make if Prince Joffrey finds out you have ruined his desserts.”

In hindsight, Loras should have seen it coming. Bernard was a violent person, and when a violent person hadn't attacked within the first three minutes of their encounter, Loras was in for a much big trouble. Loras was used to being kicked, punched, and thrown to the ground, but he had never been pushed down the stairs. Well, until now.

Loras hissed in pain as he finally stopped rolling off the stairs. He sprained his bad ankle again, his back must be covered in bruises judging by the blunt pain, and tray was knocked off, all the lime pies and meringues crushing onto him.

“How does the dessert taste, scum? I bet you’ve never eaten something so sweet.”

The first thing Loras felt was fury. He was furious at the squire’s hostility just because Loras was lowborn. He was furious that Prince Joffrey’s desserts were all ruined. He was furious that Bernard had the audacity to laugh.

Loras roared as he struggled to climb up the stairs with both his hands and feet, much like an animal, and charged at Bernard. However, he was too small, and his bad ankle hurt so much that he stumbled down before he could touch the squire.

“Go back to the gutter you come from, scum. You don't deserve to be here.”

“I am the one who brought Loras to the castle. If he doesn't deserve to be here, how about me? Do I deserve to be here according to your standards, Bernard Warren from Red Fork?”

Another figure appeared behind Bernard at some point. It was a grown man, with board shoulders and a knight’s build, making tall Bernard look like a dwarf. The man had a musical voice, a noble accent, and most importantly, striking silver hair. The man put one hand on Bernard’s shoulder and squeezed gently, but the sheer horror on the squire’s face indicated that the man was everything but gentle.

“P-prince Daeron!” Bernard fell to his knees, “I have no intention to insult you, my prince. I am just teaching this boy a lesson-”

“This boy is my husband’s personal servant. Do you think my husband is incapable of training a servant?” Daeron asked coldly.

“N-n-no! Of course not! I once squired for Prince Joffrey for two months, my prince. I would never mean anything bad to him…”

“Mentioning Joffrey’s name will not make it easier for you, boy.” Daeron said, mimicking Bernard’s earlier words to Loras.

Bernard opened his mouth to say more, but Daeron paid him no attention. He walked past the kneeing squire and offered a hand to Loras.

“Can you get up, Loras?” Daeron asked.

Loras nodded, taking the prince’s hand and lifting himself up. He was a mess. His clothes and hair were covered in custard and cream, his face was dusty, and he had several scratches over his cheek. Daeron frowned, before picking Loras up and carried the boy up the stairs.

“Prince Daeron, I can walk by myself.” Loras said, but he was smart enough not to struggle.

“I bet you can, but we need get back to Joff before he tears the whole castle apart. You know how impatient he is, especially when he doesn't get his sugar.”

“I spilled Prince Joffrey’s dessert.” Loras said in a low voice, feeling guilty even though he knew it was not his fault.

Daeron hummed, but didn't say more. He didn't even spare Bernard a side glance, even though the squire was shaking with fear.

“I think Bernard pissed himself.” Loras said to Daeron as they walked down the corridor leading to Joffrey and Daeron’s quarters.

“The boy is a coward. Joff refuses to let the boy squire him, so he’s jealous that you managed to become Joff’s favorite.” Daeron relied, carrying the boy with one arm and wiping off some lime flavored custard from the boy’s face.

“I am not Prince Joffrey’s favorite.” Loras lowered his head shyly.

“Now, no need to be humble.” Daeron chuckled, “I don't think Joff is particularly good at hiding his affections.”

Loras could say the same to Daeron. Prince Joffrey wasn’t good at hiding his affection towards his husband, though the prince would never admit it.

Daeron carried Loras all the way back to Joffrey’s quarters. The Targaryen prince kicked the door open while still hugging the boy tightly in his arms.

“Where have you been? I thought you had fallen into the kitchen stove-” Joffrey stopped his rambling as his eyes landed on his husband and a very embarrassed Loras, “What happened?”

“I fell down the stairs and spilled your food, my prince. I am so sorry.” Loras murmured, too embarrassed to look Joffrey in the eye.

“Someone pushed him down.” Daeron added. He put Loras down on the nice armchair next to the hearth, paying no mind to boy’s dusty clothes.

“Who?” Joffrey’s voice took a menacing turn immediately.

“The same person who gave Loras a limp, I think.” Daeron replied. He kept his arm wrapped securely around Loras to stop the boy from getting off the armchair, “Stop struggling, boy. I need to check your ankle.”

“But my clothes are dirty,” Loras argued, trying his best not to let the cream and dust ruin the fine fabric of the chair, but failed miserably, “I will ruin your chair.”

“Who cares about the fucking chair?!” Joffrey grunted. He was obviously angry. He hadn’t asked about Loras’s limp because he wanted the boy to learn to stand up for himself. If he had known the bullying would escalate to such extent, he would have intervened long ago.

Loras flinched. He knew Joffrey meant no harm to him, but the memory of Flea Bottom came back to haunt him at the most inconvenient time. He couldn’t help but remember the days of hiding and starving like a true gutter rat. Any noise was enough to cause him panic. Now, in the warmth of a royal prince’s private quarters, he still shivered from fear.

“Listen to your master.” Daeron said. Compared to his hot-tempered husband, the blonde was calmer and more composed, but it didn't mean he was not angry, “Give me your ankle.”

Joffrey decided that it was best to let his husband handle things now. Don’t get him wrong. He wanted to take Daeron’s place and look after Loras himself, for his pride and competitiveness were prickling to show, but he controlled himself. It was not about him. It was about Loras. Joffrey was willing to put his pride aside for now.

The brunette prince got up from the dining table and rushed back to his room. Joffrey kept a few undershirts and pants ready in the carved chest, in case he needed to change after a passionate sex session with his husband. Joffrey’s clothes would be too big for Loras, so he made sure to bring a leather belt with him. By the time he returned to their shared dining room, Daeron had already taken off Loras’s shoes and was examining the boy’s swollen ankle. Loras had put on some weight since he first came to the keep, but it was far from enough in Joffrey’s opinion. The boy was still small, with skeleton-like limbs and sunken cheeks. No matter how hard Joffrey tried to feed him, Loras still remained small even in his age.

Now, Loras’s left ankle was swelled to almost twice of its original size. There were some shallow cuts and bruises on his shin and knees as well, and Joffrey could tell that those wounds were not made tonight. It seemed Loras had been bullied for quite some time. Joffrey felt his fury boiling again.

“How long has this been going on?” Daeron asked, palpating the boy’s ankle to make sure the bones were intact, “It’s a miracle you managed to walk with an ankle like this.”

“It wasn’t so bad before.” Loras replied, fiddling with the hem of his shirt like a boy caught in middle of a mischief, “I swear, my prince. It’s a sting.”

“You should have told us.” Daeron said with a gentle sigh, “I didn’t expect it to be this bad.”

Joffrey watched his husband interact with his servant. Though he had been cruel and cold to Loras in the beginning, Joffrey soon took a liking to the boy. He didn't hate the boy to begin with. His annoyance was directed at his husband, and caused by irrational jealousy. He couldn't stand the idea of Daeron lying with another, both before and after their marriage. Although he would never admit it, Joffrey was a possessive freak. He might openly distain Daeron and the blonde’s family, but Joffrey was not prepared to share his husband with anyone.

“Your bones seem to be okay.” Daeron concluded after a while, “I will ask the maester to have a look at you in the morning. You can use some ointment for the swelling.”

“There is no need, my prince. I am just a servant.” Loras shook his head, “I will just put some raw meat on the swelling. It will do the trick. Please, you don't need to bother the maester just for me.”

“Nonsense.” Daeron said in feigned annoyance, “You are a smart boy, Loras. You should have noticed that you are more than just a servant.”

Loras fell silent. Of course he had noticed. He was not stupid. What kind of servant dined with their master on daily basis? What kind of servant could have a royal prince seed grapes for them? What kind of servant slept in the same quarter with their master?

Loras knew Prince Joffrey was treating him differently. The problem was, how long would it last? Would Prince Joffrey dismiss him after the novelty had worn down? Loras dared not to dwell on this thought too much. He dared not to see himself more than just a servant, because that would make the disappointment easier when Prince Joffrey decided to dismiss him.

“He’s right.” Joffrey chimed in, walking to the armchair with a pile of clothes in his arms, “I can adopt you at this moment, if that will make you feel easier to see a maester.”

Loras’s blue eyes widened in surprise. He was so shocked that he didn't even struggle when Joffrey took off his dirty shirt and wrapped him in a new one. Loras knew immediately that the new shirt did not belong to him. It was too big for his small body, and more importantly, the fabric felt too silky to be plain linen.

Daeron chuckled at the boy’s shocked face. Though every gossip stated that Loras looked like him, Daeron found the boy actually shared more features with Joffrey. Their eyes were the same shape of round, so were their pouty lips. They even shared the same shocked face.

“I was wondering when you would make this proposal, husband.” Daeron joked, helping Joffrey take off Loras’s pants, “I thought you would never ask.”

“I am not as hypocrite as you.” Joffrey said before muttering some curse under his breath when he saw the bruises on Loras’s legs, “Shit. Who did this to you, boy?”

Loras glanced quickly at Daeron, but the blonde seemed in no hurry to help.

“B-Bernard, my prince.” Loras had no choice but tell the truth.

“Bernard who?” Joffrey frowned. The name was too common to ring a bell. He knew at least three Bernards, one knight, one merchant, and one horse breeder.

“Bernard Warren from Red Fork.” Daeron answered the question for Loras, “I remember you used to have a squire called this name.”

“The Bernard who can’t even sharpen my swords properly?” Joffrey rolled his eyes. Now he remembered. He did know a fourth Bernard, a squire boy from the Riverlands. As a renowned knight, Joffrey had let numerous boys squire him, to give the boys a chance to pursue a knight career. Bernard was one of the lower births of his squires, coming from only a landed knight family. As far as Joffrey knew, House Warren owned a half-crushed tower on the banks of the Red Fork.

“He did say he squired you once, my prince.” Loras added in a low voice. He knew he shouldn't feel happy, but somehow, he was relieved finally let the secret out.

“He’s a shitty squire.” Joffrey said through gritted teeth, “That’s why I dismissed him after one month. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn't want to bother you.” Loras admitted, “Also, I don't want to give the bullies more ammunition. They already hate me enough for being your personal servant.”

“Since when do I become so popular?” Joffrey scoffed, “At least tell me you fought back. I expect to see some broken noses or knocked off teeth.”

“I tried.” Loras blushed, embarrassed, “But I am too small. I only managed to push one of Bernard’s friends into a pile of horse dung.”

“You, Loras,” Joffrey said, cupping the boy’s face in his hands, “lack practice. Size only counts for a small part on the battlefield. I will have to teach you how to fight, boy.”

“That’s very kind of you, my prince.”

“We need to work on your ways of calling as well.” Joffrey said in all seriousness, “You can’t keep calling me my prince, if you are to be my adopted child.”

Loras thought the prince was only joking, because how could that be possible? He was a lowborn orphan, probably a bastard. How could a royal prince adopt a low scum like him?

“Joff’s not joking.” Daeron said, moving aside to give Joffrey more room. He excelled at reading Loras’s mind, because the boy was just as honest and straightforward as his husband. Daeron could read Joffrey like an open book, Loras too.

“Of course I am not.” Joffrey confirmed. He finished changing Loras, putting the boy into a nice, clean silk shirt and securing it with a leather belt.

“But, I am-”

“A lowborn?” Daeron finished Loras’s sentence for him. The blonde let the boy settle on his own lap before urging his husband to sit down at the armchair as well, “We are princes, Loras. Status means little to us.”

“As much as I hate to agree with my annoying husband, I have to say he has a point here.” Joffrey threw himself into the armchair, watching his husband hugging the blonde boy, “I don’t care about rules. We don't have anything to inherit anyway, so it doesn’t matter who we choose to adopt. In fact, you won't get anything from us except for fine clothes and food. Maybe some private training sessions as well, but that’s all. I don't think it is that much of a big deal.”

“You have a lot of people to convince, Joff.” Daeron said, brushing Loras’s hair mindlessly, “Luckily, you have me as your ally. I can't think of a better person for this job.”

“Fuck off, you show-off.” Joffrey rolled his eyes, but Loras didn't miss the faint smile on his lips, “I am going to order a bath. Loras smells like a huge lime pie.”

Loras blushed, while Daeron chuckled. Joffrey felt a surge of warmth spread through his body. He had never expected to have a family at all, let alone with Daeron, but now, he couldn't help but wonder if they looked like a real family now.

An alpha, an omega, and a boy with Daeron’s hair and Joffrey’s eyes. What else could Joffrey ask for?

[ask-lord-morgarath]

With The Refinement Of A Sommelier

Greetings, imbeciles! As evidenced by my most recent poll on the Tumblr realm, it is clear that you plebians struggle with the concept of midnight snacking. No doubt you're unacquainted with the concept of the necessary etiquette, but I, Lord Morgarath of the Mountains of Rain and Night, shall condescend to enlighten you nonetheless.

Understand that the act of midnight snacking is reserved for the true connoisseur. The hour must be past the common man's bedtime but not too late to risk disturbing your beauty sleep. Midnight is the hour of choice, a time when the world sleeps and only the elite partake in this decadent ritual.

First, you must select the appropriate provisions. None of your lowly, processed garbage shall suffice. The unwashed masses may settle for leftovers or mundane snacks, but for those with discerning palates like myself, only the best will suffice. Seek out the finest of delicacies - artisanal cheeses, exotic fruits, or gourmet chocolates. 

A proper midnight snack is incomplete without a suitable beverage. Opt for a rare vintage wine or a glass of sparkling water. The commoners may resort to soft drinks, but one must be above such vulgarity.

The presentation of your chosen snacks is of utmost importance. Delicately arrange your victuals on a silver platter. Use fine china and crystalware, not those ghastly plastic utensils you peasants seem to favor. And be certain to do so quietly; the clinking of cutlery should not wake the inferior beings in your household.

When the hour is right and the setting impeccable, savor each bite and sip with the refinement of a sommelier. Chew slowly, allowing the flavors to dance on your palate. Never, I repeat, never give way to mindless gulping or messy swigging. Do not gorge yourself like a swine at a trough. The snacking savant gratifies in small, delectable bites. 

Finally, do not leave a trace of your satiation for the servants to discover in the morning. Dispose of the evidence with the utmost discretion and return to your slumber. Now, off with you, and may your attempts at this indulgence be less pitiful than I imagine them to be. Good night, peasants.

[lumariea]

Harborfront District

Overview: Situated along the bay’s crescent-shaped coastline, the Harborfront District is the bustling, vibrant center of commerce, trade, and adventure in Seluna’s Crest. The constant arrival and departure of both skyships and seafaring vessels bring goods, travelers, and intrigue from across Lumaria. Amid the mix of merchants, artisans, and travelers, the district is filled with stories, curiosities, and the distinct cultures of its residents.

Key Features

Sky Docks

Overview: The Sky Docks are sprawling platforms that stretch above the water, capable of docking everything from colossal skyships to sleek sailing vessels. A fusion of magic and architecture, the Sky Docks allow for the secure mooring and maintenance of air and seafaring ships, making them a cornerstone of Seluna’s bustling trade scene.

Skyship Platforms:

Elevated platforms with large, reinforced rails and magical mooring hooks designed for the docking of skyships. Each platform is marked by colorful pennants representing different factions and guilds.

Seafaring Berths:

Designed for larger sea vessels, the berths are crafted from sturdy timber, with each area providing room for ship repairs, unloading, and minor refits.

Merchant Stalls:

A lively area near the docks filled with small shops and stalls selling rare, magical trinkets, exotic goods, and supplies for adventurers and merchants.

Sky Docks Watchtower:

Standing tall at the edge of the Sky Docks, this watchtower is staffed by the Order of the Skyward Blade, keeping watch over the skies and waters, monitoring for threats, and coordinating the arrival of ships.

Merchant’s Square

Description: The Merchant’s Square is the bustling, heart of trade in Seluna’s Crest, filled with the energetic calls of merchants and customers alike. From rare magical crystals to delicacies from the far reaches of Lumaria, the square is packed with treasures and oddities.

Stalls and Vendors:

A vast array of goods is on offer, including enchanted items, potions, magical artifacts, textiles, and foods from various regions, attracting travelers from all walks of life.

Atmosphere:

Musicians, dancers, and street performers entertain the crowds, and the air is filled with the aromas of exotic spices, roasted meats, and freshly baked pastries, including Rosie’s famous Moonberry Tarts.

Notable Features:

The Artisan’s Corner: A dedicated area for artists, crafters, and members of the Lumarian Council of Artisans to showcase their work.

Celestial Cartographers’ Outpost: A small station where maps and sky routes are sold, each crafted by expert members of the Celestial Cartographers.

The Magical Menagerie: Run by an eccentric gnome, this shop sells magical creatures and offers curious spectators a glimpse into Lumaria’s rare wildlife.

Guild Houses

The Argent League:

Purpose: This powerful merchant consortium governs trade across Lumaria. They regulate prices, protect caravans, and ensure stable trade routes.

Presence in Seluna’s Crest: With an impressive, fortress-like headquarters, the Argent League wields significant influence here, monitoring both sea and sky trade and securing exclusive agreements with other factions.

The Celestial Cartographers:

Purpose: Dedicated to mapping the ever-changing floating islands, the Celestial Cartographers provide essential knowledge to skyship captains and traders.

Presence in Seluna’s Crest: A scholarly yet adventurous group, they offer maps, routes, and insights into uncharted skies, and their headquarters serves as a popular spot for adventurers seeking rare destinations.

The Crimson Wings:

Purpose: This guild of aerial warriors and skyship pilots is devoted to keeping the skies safe and free from pirates.

Presence in Seluna’s Crest: Their training halls and patrol stations are part of the district’s defensive network, and their members enforce peace and order, ensuring the skies remain clear for trade and travel.

The Lumarian Council of Artisans:

Purpose: Dedicated to preserving and promoting the arts, the Council is composed of artists, crafters, and performers who foster Lumaria’s rich cultural heritage.

Presence in Seluna’s Crest: The Council’s galleries and workshops showcase the work of local and visiting artists, and their festivals draw crowds from near and far, bringing life and color to the Harborfront.

The Lumarian Scholars’ Consortium:

Purpose: Focused on the study and preservation of Lumaria’s history and magic, this consortium values knowledge above all.

Presence in Seluna’s Crest: The Consortium’s research facility serves as a hub for scholars and offers visitors access to rare books and artifacts, while members consult on matters of history and magic.

The Order of the Skyward Blade:

Purpose: A knightly order dedicated to defending Lumaria from threats, often patrolling the skies and jungles.

Presence in Seluna’s Crest: Their base near the Sky Docks provides ready access to ships, and their presence assures travelers of safety within the district.

The Wayfarers’ Enclave:

Purpose: This neutral organization provides shelter and aid to travelers, with inns, waystations, and outposts throughout Lumaria.

Presence in Seluna’s Crest: Known for their welcoming atmosphere, their inn serves as a resting place for adventurers, where travelers share tales and information over warm meals and ale.

The Verdant Circle:

Purpose: This druidic order aims to protect the natural magic and jungles of Lumaria, advocating for sustainable practices.

Presence in Seluna’s Crest: While primarily stationed in the jungles, the Circle’s outpost here educates others on natural conservation, sustainable resource use, and offers herbal remedies and potions made from jungle flora.

Cultural & Adventure Opportunities

The diversity and activity within the Harborfront District make it an ideal place for adventurers to pick up quests, form alliances, and delve into mysteries or conflicts that shape Seluna’s Crest. The guilds here are often at the center of these activities, offering quests, and opportunities for alliances with distinct rewards.

[irunevenus]

The Adrenochrome Theory: Celebrities, Aesthetic Procedures, and the Controversial Consumption of Children’s Body Parts

Introduction

In recent years, theories involving Hollywood celebrities, controversial aesthetic procedures, and the alleged extraction of substances like adrenochrome have sparked both outrage and debate. Adrenochrome, reportedly extracted from children under extreme fear, has been highlighted in some conspiracy theories as a substance used by elites to prolong youth. Controversies such as Sandra Bullock's interview, where she mentioned using a facial treatment derived from Korean baby foreskin, have only fueled these narratives. Simultaneously, old reports of exotic practices in Asia, such as the consumption of baby brains, add to a disturbing vision of how youth and vitality are pursued at any cost.

This article explores these connections, linking the controversy surrounding adrenochrome, controversial beauty treatments, and the obsessive pursuit of youth.

The Adrenochrome Controversy

Adrenochrome, a substance supposedly derived from oxidized adrenaline in children, gained fame through conspiracy theories suggesting that elites and celebrities use it to rejuvenate and maintain vitality. According to these theories, adrenochrome can only be obtained under extreme fear and pain, raising serious ethical and moral questions.

There is no scientific evidence to support the claims about adrenochrome, but the idea that powerful people would resort to dark methods to prolong their lives has become part of popular imagination, especially in discussions surrounding Hollywood celebrities. These theories often surface on forums and social media, associating the substance with eternal youth and suggesting a sinister network behind the deaths of children.

Sandra Bullock’s Interview and the Aesthetic Procedure

In 2018, actress Sandra Bullock appeared on The Ellen DeGeneres Show, where she revealed using a facial treatment that involved cells extracted from the foreskin of Korean babies. This treatment, known as the "penis facial," utilizes stem cells obtained from circumcised infants to help regenerate skin and rejuvenate the face.

Though Bullock discussed the procedure lightheartedly, the interview sparked outrage and controversy, particularly due to the origin of the cells. Critics questioned the ethical implications of using human material, especially from babies, in cosmetic treatments. The link between using cells from infants and the pursuit of youth revived old debates about the lengths celebrities will go to maintain a youthful appearance.

Despite the controversy, the treatment is legitimate and practiced in various parts of the world, promoted by cosmetic doctors as a way to stimulate collagen production and combat signs of aging. However, critics persist, raising questions about the ethics behind the pursuit of beauty and youth.

The Consumption of Baby Brains as a Delicacy in China

Another element that resurfaces in narratives about disturbing practices and the consumption of children’s parts is the old report that baby brains were considered a delicacy in China. These stories date back decades, when rumors circulated that the brains of newborn children were served as a rare and exotic dish in certain regions. While there is no concrete confirmation of this practice on a large scale, the mere fact that such rumors spread widely points to a disturbing fascination with consuming children’s body parts.

Popular belief associated the consumption of baby brains with absorbing vitality and youth. The idea that one could acquire a child’s "life force" by consuming their organs or body parts fits directly into ancient myths and rituals across various cultures, where the consumption of human parts was seen as a way to gain power or vitality.

Although there is no substantial evidence to prove the contemporary practice of consuming baby brains, these stories echo a deeper reality: the desperate search for youth and longevity can lead to extreme practices, whether real or imagined.

Youth and the Quest for Eternity

The connection between adrenochrome, treatments involving Korean baby foreskins, and stories of baby brain consumption reveals a disturbing pattern where youth becomes an objective pursued at all costs. At the heart of these narratives lies humanity’s age-old anxiety about aging and death. From ancient rituals to modern aesthetic procedures, the quest for longevity has always been a central theme in human concerns.

Hollywood celebrities, constantly pressured to maintain a young and vibrant image, are often seen as the first to resort to innovative and, sometimes, controversial methods. If Bullock’s and other stars' treatments involving baby cells are real and widely accepted, what stops other darker practices, such as adrenochrome consumption, from being considered possible?

While adrenochrome claims may seem extreme, they touch on a sensitive point: the exploitation of the vulnerable for the benefit of the powerful. The idea that children’s suffering could be turned into a "tonic" for youth is a sinister metaphor for the inequality and dehumanization that occur when power and appearance become obsessions.

Conclusion

The controversy surrounding adrenochrome, aesthetic treatments with Korean baby foreskin cells, and disturbing stories of baby brain consumption in China are all expressions of a deeper and more unsettling desire: the quest for eternal youth. While there is no concrete proof that practices such as adrenochrome extraction or brain consumption are real, the persistence of these narratives suggests they reflect cultural fears and obsessions.

Youth is a precious commodity, and society—especially among the rich and powerful—often seeks to prolong it through increasingly radical means. The line between ethical and questionable practices continues to be challenged, as the obsession with beauty and vitality persists, even at the expense of the most vulnerable.

This insatiable quest for youth reveals the shadows of a society that fears aging and is willing to explore any method to prolong what is ultimately inevitable: the cycle of life and death.