#this is one insane ass commission
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trashiiplant · 5 months ago
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Flukeseeker commission for @nerdflowo
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dragoncarrion · 9 months ago
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can i stop pretending i dont get mad when i see people buying ocs and adopts for 500 dollars on the regular
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isa-ah · 20 days ago
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on the one hand i want to try for a second wind to stay up and get really into something but on the other hand im sleepy and im pretty sure my husband went to bed without me so i honestly might as well
#back in godot learning thingssssssss#trying to do anything i can to distract myself from the abysmal lack of work ive been able to find lately LOL#genuinely ive had 1 commission in the last 2 weeks like its so joever im so hungry#not to be like “the economy” but man i used to be doing upwards of 20 coms a week when i was really nuts#making a couple grand a month etc#but shits gone so to pieces between ai and the cost of living crisis that like i get no work anymore at all ever#the bone deep resistance i have to having to get another shitty day job is insane tho after what the last one did to me#idk but ive been losing a ton of sleep over it lately and ive been having nightmares every night again#so i guess i really gotta solve that sooner rather than later. esp bc we cant buy groceries indefinitely like this#ive cut back to eating cereal in the morning and then something for dinner after having a really good streak of eating 3 hardy meals a day#which sucks but what can you do#gotta stop being a big fat failure if i want to eat like a. not failure. a succeeder#ig theres the ego of it too bc coms have been my fulltime job for years so like the dead dropoff lately is so#what if it ends tomorrow right. what if it ends next week. what if it doesnt end until next year#what if it never ends and im just unemployed sitting on my ass pretending i still have a career doing what i love#which is already what it feels like bc ive been scrounging for pennies to put food on the table for months now#like idk man. its joever let it go let it die. but that means getting a shit fucking job somewhere and god i do not want to LOL#i wont have the energy to do anything anymore and im such a brittle person this time of year anyway#whateverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr#im gunna try to sleep bye o/
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snowflakeb0ttles · 11 months ago
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man kh3 data fights so fun
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eyesocketinchworm · 2 years ago
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this user is normal about renaissance artists
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pr0cyon-lotor · 4 months ago
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AU where instead of Shen Yuan being obsessed with Luo Binghe, he's instead obsessed with the scum villain himself. I mean we all know Bingge is Very Not Good Person™ but you know who else a Very Not Good Person™? Say it with me: Shen Jiu
Like just imagine a timeline where Shen Yuan is writing paragraph after paragraph about how Shen Qingqiu might actually be a good person but Airplane is wasting his potential. The other commenters are saying he's delusional because he abused the protagonist and as all these TERRIBLE allegations towards him. So he's a clear cut villain.
But Shen Yuan is defending his fav with the vigor of a devout worshipper. He's constantly siting parts that are obvious plot holes and how they could give much needed context to Shen Qingqiu's character.
Other people are demanding for worst things to happen to Shen Qingqiu to spite him. Airplane caves. Shen Yuan actively commissions art and fics where Shen Qingqiu is happy. People tell him "Shen Qingqiu won't fuck you bro"
Shen Yuan isn't interested in that. He's a freaky little man with freaky little likes. He'd gladly take Shen Qingqiu's cold glares and even volunteer to have tea poured on him.
When he finishes PIDW, he's been outraged that Shen Qingqiu was killed off a while back. He's even more outraged that Shen Qingqiu wasn't given any mention at the end.
Now, imagine with me that he gets transmigrated into some NPC, literally Unimportant Character No°5. Probably as the head disciple for drama reasons. And as soon as Shen Jiu is brought in, scruffy and hissing as he is. He immediately hugging his thighs and saying he'll be peak lord for sure.
Please follow me into this suspicious alleyway as I continue to explain my vision fueled by sleep deprivation.
So now imagine your Shen Jiu. You're a former street rat and demonic cultivator, you aren't expecting to be liked or respected. You're expecting it, you've come to terms with it a long time ago. What you weren't expecting was for this random ass guy you have to call da-shixiong is immediately insane about you.
He met you first day, literally saw you bite a guy, and immediately started spouting out how you'll be the next peak lord and the absolute envy of Cang Qiong Mountain. You conclude he's missing a few screws because he said it in the most disgustingly sincere way.
You try to continue on with your life, trying to beat him and he looks almost... Excited about you beating him. So he's an M, you think to yourself. But then you see someone trying to beat him or you on something, and this guy immediately gets aggressive. Okay so he's just weird with you.
You continue to deal with him. He's weird but also weirdly respectful. He leaves if you tell him to leave. He defends you like it's his very birth right. He's always there to tend to you as if you were a god. He doesn't touch you and only sits around like a dog waiting for a command.
You eventually get strong enough to beat him, and this absolute buffoon is over the moon about it, already spouting about your supposed success again.
When you actually become peak lord, it isn't surprising. Your hype man has been saying it since day one, he was expecting it for some reason. He continues to spout out nonsense about how he just knew you were going to do it.
So what now? You obviously desire him carnally. What is the next step?
Okay so I know this wouldn't fix them. Almost without question this would make they both worse. But, hear me out, it would be funny. (Especially since just know Shen Yuan's entire inner monologue would be him saying he's just being a good friend as if he isn't being the gayest man in the sect and Shang Qinghua is there. That's an accomplishment to outgay the author)
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monstersflashlight · 3 months ago
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Hello, did you know that vampires have heat cycles...? you can fact check it on Google 😋
Would love to see what you can do with that information 😘
Keep up the good work your writing is just MUAH 💋🔥😻
Hi anon! Thanks for the info... Really inspiring *wink wink*
When you started dating your vampire boyfriend, you thought everything would be normal and good. You thought he would be into your blood, which he was. He was into everything you did at any point of time. It was exhilarating to know you could turn him on so fucking much and so easily... Maybe you should have seen the signs when that started to be a bit too much.
It all started with him grinding against your ass as you did your makeup. Nothing too serious, you just thought he was horny (as always). He had the highest libido ever, and you indulged him more than not. So when he pulled up your dress and pushed your panties aside, you thought nothing of it. He fucked you as you panted, your face the only one in the reflection in front of you, making it feel filthier and hornier than it should. It was amazing. But it didn't end up there. He came in you three times before you finished doing your makeup, holding you up because your legs were trembling. He set your panties straight after, and left you there with damp panties and pussy sore. You loved it.
You went out and he insisted on taking you to the bathroom, where he proceeded to eat you out and then bite your thigh to have a little snack. Then fucked you against the door as you heard people moving around outside. You were sure everyone knew you got fucked within an inch of yourself in that bathroom.
But it didn't end up there.
When you got home he felt feverish, his face unusually red and his hands shaking as he tore down your clothes (literally) and pushed you on the floor to rut against your ass. He couldn't even push it inside because he was that desperate. He came over your ass and recovered a tiny bit. He told you something about heat that you didn't understand fully. But good goddess if you didn't understand later on.
He fucked you frantically for what felt like hours, dragging your body around the house, fucking you in every surface, sometimes not even in a flat position, holding you in crazy poses as he fucked your sore hole. You didn't ask him to stop. You didn't want him to. It was exhilarating and exciting and he was thrusting into you in such crazy state... Knowing that you could drive him that level of horny drove you to new highs.
By the time he was done, all your holes were overflowing with his warm seed. Your neck and legs filled with tiny bites as he feed off you, and you... You were passed out because of oversensitivity and the insane amount of orgasms he gave you.
You were glad vampires had a heat.
Reminder that you can commission me (info here) or suscribe to my Patreon (info here). And that my second account is @whiskis
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obsessivevoidkitten · 17 days ago
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Pollen and Pheromones
Kinktober Day 13: Sex Pollen
Male Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Omega Reader CW: Noncon, sex pollen, aphrodisiac, pheromones, knotting, biting, claiming bite, stranded, spaceship crash, sci-fi, outer space, alien planet, a/b/o dynamics, bigotry/prejudice against omegas, rivalry, breeding, general yandere behavior, tsundere, betrayal Word Count: 1.6k (Enjoy this kinktober meal I have prepared <3)
"Star log: This is Pilot 2418 currently operating vessel Starlion: Orion. I am currently on route to pass the threshold of our galaxy in less than five minutes."
You were a shuttle pilot, one of the Exploration Guild's best. Ever since humanity had achieved interplanetary travel, they had sought to extend themselves ever further. With the new drift-space drives, that dream was now a reality.
They were only currently suited for small 1 to 2 man shuttlecraft, and only a couple such craft had been made. Two different ones had been commissioned through the guild, with both pilots competing to see who could exit the Milky Way first. The new drive could only be used in bursts to prevent overloading, so the journey had still taken a few months. But it seemed like you were about to succeed. Then you could make a U-turn and start drift-jumping back towards the nearest station.
Since you were an omega, this was a great achievement, a notice to the universe that your kind could do whatever betas and alphas could. You would be able to help stamp out the lingering bigotry and inspire others all with one action.
You were just about to cross the finish line!
Suddenly, your opponent, Tetsunori, came out of drift-space behind you. He had been your long-time rival, with both of you being about equally skilled.
But this was unacceptable to him as he was an alpha and held to the knothead mindset that an omega's place was bouncing on an alpha's prick or maybe in a teaching or nursing job.
You weren't worried, though. You had a solid lead. There was no way he could close the gap.
You rolled your eyes at the incoming transmission.
"Why don't you just give up now? If you surrender nicely, I'll let you celebrate my victory by letting you keep my knot warm!"
The temptation to reply was too great.
"Ha! You may be good at navigating the stars, but I doubt you have ever found your way into an omega."
Conversing with him hadn't distracted you or made you pause, so he growled as he switched to another plan. He fired on his tractor beam.
What the fuck, was he insane? Stooping so low to make sure you couldn't have a historic moment? You fired an equal and opposite tractor beam through his, which forced him to disengage. Something only possible because both ships were similar in size and energy output. Did he think you were some amateur?
In a desperate bid to prevent you from winning, Tetsunori rammed his shuttle into yours.
This type of bumping wasn't unheard of. It wasn't lethal if both ships were similar and had their shields up. But the bouncing was pretty strong for both parties, which is why it was a last-ditch effort. It could push you past the line, or it could bump him further. Neither of those things happened, though.
Instead, you careened right into the gravitational pull off a planet. You did everything you could to slow down and stabilize, but nothing seemed to be working.
Tetsunori sped after you in his spacecraft as he spoke into the comm link.
"I'm sorry, oh my god, I'm so sorry! I just had to be first! What omega would want to be mates with someone who they bested??"
You didn't have time for his weird ass confession and barely registered it. Your shields were still online and he had started pulsing his tractor beam to slow you down, full usage of it at such speeds could rip your ship apart, thankfully he wasn't an amateur either and knew that.
You put all available power and quickly put it into overloading the shields. You hit the emergency crash button, and two nozzles came out from the sides of the cockpit and sprayed you with a rapidly drying foam that would reduce damage to you if you got flung about the ship. Tetsunori's reckless and speedy entry into the atmosphere may have been enough to save you, but he had lost control of his vessel as well.
As you crashed, he careened away and crash-landed as well.
It was a good thing the high-tech impact reduction foam was so effective. Despite having shields, the ship was still shaken pretty badly, and the inertial dampeners weren't powerful enough to thwart damage from such a landing.
You took stock of the condition of your systems.
Almost everything was fried. You could at least scan the planet. It seemed like you had actually lucked out. In the entire galaxy planets that supported life were incredibly rare. But you had landed on one.
It seemed there were no known biological hazards present. No recognized toxins, dangerous bacteria, or viral agents. You were cleared to remove your suit. The temporary foam had started to dissolve, so it wasn't hard to remove.
The scanner also indicated there was a strong human life sign. It appeared that Tetsunori was okay.
You took the survival kit from underneath your seat as well as some beverages and rations you had procured at the last station and headed in the direction of dust and smoke in the distance.
You didn't even need the ship's scanner to tell you that the great imbecile, Tetsunori had landed there.
As you got closer, you stepped into a field of flowers that surrounded the entire crash site. You were probably still a mile away, but all around you were odd glittery silver and gold flowers.
The smell of them made you just slightly lightheaded and tingly. You realized the tiniest bit of slick was dribbling down your leg. They must be an aphrodisiac. The scanner hadn't warned you of anything in the air that was truly dangerous, so it probably wouldn't matter very much. And it really didn't. For you. As you trudged through the flowers and pollen, the effects did not get worse.
But for Tetsunori, the pollen was much stronger. When it hit his nostrils, it immediately put him into rut. Not a typical rut either, one of the ruts you see in pornos where the alpha is almost feral and unable to control their mating drive. When you came upon him, he was sitting on a piece of debris from his shit and rocking back and forth in clear distress. Through his outfit, his bulge was immediately visible.
"T-tetsunori? Uh... are you okay? D-did you get hurt in the crash?"
You took a step back when he looked up at you. His eyes were red, giving him a demonic appearance.
"The flowers, I think... they... UGH! My thoughts are all jumbled..."
He started to rub and massage his crotch desperately. He finally caught a whiff of your scent, ripe from the recent hike over to him and from being without a proper shower since your last space station stop. Not to mention the smell of the slick the aphrodisiac had coaxed out of you.
He started wildly sniffing at the air.
"Y-you smell so nice. You can help!"
You started backing away slowly.
"Uh... help with what?"
He got up and closed the difference between the two of you. Sweat had his dark hair clinging to his head. He was significantly taller and looked down at you intensely before sniffing and licking your neck with lazy broad strokes.
"S-smell so gooood. Always wanted to knot youuuu~"
You tried to push him off.
"Tetsunori! St-stop!"
You slapped, smacked, kicked, punched, and flailed, but nothing you did deterred him in the slightest.
"I'm sorry, but I fucking n-need this!"
He pinned you to the ground, clawing and biting off all your clothing until only your underwear was left, he removed it more delicately before inhaling its scent deeply and putting it in his pocket for later.
"Please don't do this, Tetsunori, PLEASE!"
He looked down at you, and it seemed like he was genuinely trying to resist before the pollen-charged rut won out.
Tetsunori unzipped his pants and let his drooling cock and full heavy balls out.
"G-gonna put all my babies in you! Have to! Have to!"
The lust-drunk alpha wasted no more time in ramming into you, an insertion that would have been more difficult had the pollen not slicked you up. Though it was still sudden and slightly painful.
"A-aaah!"
You tried to kick at him, but he growled viciously before pushing you into a mating press and slobbering all over your neck with his eager tongue.
The pollen must have increased the potency of his pheromones, or at least your susceptibility to them, because his musk was starting to cloud your thoughts.
Your grunts of pain became gasps of pleasure as your body quickly accommodated to his large size. You winced as he bit down hard on your neck to claim you. He kept right on fucking into you without skipping a beat.
He licked and kissed the lightly bleeding bite mark, some part of him remembering to comfort you despite his dominating need to fill you with cock. And by that point, the last of your resistance finally melted away.
"T-tetsunoriiiiii~" You moaned as your toes curled and body twitched in orgasm.
He growled your name in response and gave a few hard, deep thrusts before cumming as deeply as possible.
A comforting fullness filled your hole as his knot locked the two of you together. He pulled you close as he sat down so that you were in his lap facing him. The two of you caught your breath, then remained in an awkward silence until his knot deflated.
"G-got it out of your system?"
"Yeah... for the most part... sorry about that..."
You lifted yourself off of his lap, his half hard cock springing free with a lewd plopping sound.
"Well... it wasn't your fault. It was just the pollen..."
He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into his lap, his cock ramming directly into you, then began humping.
"Well... it wasn't just the pollen..."
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aphroditesswan · 16 days ago
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hello pls i saw ur opening for smut requests can u write with these Fetishes : size kink + dom bottom [kinich or anyone rlly] and hes like ur best Friend and u asked him to teach u how to ride or something 😛 😛
tysm for opening requests
but of course 👅👅
fem reader + mexican kinich, riding, size kink, slow sex, body worship, praise
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“i’m sorry?”
there was absolutely no way in celestia kinich heard you right. he turned towards you, forgetting whatever now meaningless task he was otherwise preoccupied with before he swore he heard you ask something insane.
“can you… teach me how to ride you?”
you looked so embarrassed but so confident and sure in your request, almost like you were simply hiring him for a commission. he could feel his sweats tighten at the thought, turning to the side to hold his face and lick his lips at his own fantasy. fuck.
god kinich was enjoying this sight. you’re smaller frame atop him, face contort in pleasure and concentration as you bounce on him and eyes begging him to let you do this yourself.
and how could he ever resist? you looked so eager to please him and don’t get him started on the view. the way your chest moved with every lift and fall of your hips, along with your uneasy panting.
having you above him felt so good, he could die there happy and no need for the oath of resurrection.
“kinnnn, focus! help me here..”
you whine down at him, a small lift of his hips in response along with a newfound grip on your hips.
“no-! not like that, just tell me what to do!”
you placed your hands on his chest in an effort to slow him, lifting your own hips a bit. he sighed softly, his hold on you still never faltering as he looked up at you with such dazed and pretty eyes.
“struggling up there, mi princesa? sure you don’t need a hand?”
he slowly moved one hand towards your aching clit, fingertips lightly grazing over the skin as he ran his hand down from your hip. he was drinking up this sight, but of course he had to help out his girl.
“lean forward and move your ass up and down, hermosa.”
you obliged obviously, getting used to the movement a starting to quicken your pace atop him.
“ah- wait, princesa wait. theres no rush, slow and steady does it. there you go.”
he guided you through riding him, hands planted firmly around your ass as he moved you up at down at a slow pace. this brought you down onto him, your chest touching his as you moaned in his ear with your hands moving up his chest and stopping at the base of his neck.
fuck, he could get used to this. the feeling of you against him, being raw inside you and having you melt against him entirely at his mercy even as you’re on top of him.
“such a good girl for me, yeah? doing so good, such a faster learner, princesa.”
he moved his hand back to your clit, rubbing rhythmic circles with his thumb and kissing from your cheek to your neck as you rode him. the sound of your moans and whimpers in his ear was heavenly, he could cum from that alone.
“there you go baby, there you go. go ahead and cum for me, ‘m right behind you,”
kinich groaned into your skin, leaving soft kisses along it as he felt himself release inside you—something he’d deal with later when he wasn’t so enthralled by you.
kinich was thanking the archons that you came to him for this, and he was going to make sure that you came to him every single time.
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hope yall enjoy 🫦🫦
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sublimeinal-messages · 3 months ago
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How great would it have been to have Lila and Diego’s marital problems actually be that they’re both tired of normal marital life, when both of them are secretly getting back into the superhero / assassin gig behind eachother’s backs?
Like, ok Diego can still has his infidelity suspicion plot, thinking lila is cheating on him with five (which is fake. Didn’t happen at all. We all agree right?) but it turns out that Lila and Five are actually meeting up to plot, talking about old commission stuff on the downlow. Diego sneaks out to find them having dinner and he’s heartbroken, but it’s actually them eating takeout over assassination plans with files all over the table detailing how to kill someone without a trace, with pictures of alleyway vantage points and sniper rifles.
I didn’t expect this to end up being A Whole Thing but I had to write it out. Full thing under the cut:
Meanwhile, Diego’s been lying to Lila about losing his job. He hasn’t shown up for work in weeks, and recently got fired. Levaing the family financially unstable. Diego’s still showing up to be a dad during his usual scheduled times, but he hasn’t been paid in a while and both parents seem to be pulled away in different directions. And now the kids have begun to notice. This comes to a peak when one of their kids spot someone in their house at night dressed in black, and they tell Lila later that they saw Batman. Obviously Lila sees right through this and confronts Diego, who confronts her right back over her infidelity. Lila laughs in his face, because he’d have to be insane to think she’s ever do that, and with Five?? The barely-legal teenager who killed her parents? Are you stupid?? (Stares directly at the camera). But Diego’s hurt. He can’t get a clear answer on what they’re doing because she doesn’t want to admit she’s tired of being a housewife and wants to kick ass again. All they can agree on is that this isn’t working anymore, neither of them are happy, and they just hurt each others feelings.
So this fight ends in Diego storming out. They’re on a break. Lila is heartbroken, the kids don’t know what’s going on, and Diego throws himself wholeheartedly into being a vigilante again. It’s shown he’s fighting some shady organization that seems to have far reaching ties—related to Reginald, Abigail, and their new reset empire. Lila doesn’t know what to do, she gets some in-laws to stay over and look after the kids as she goes out to look for him (to no avail) and it ends up being the day she and five planned on their big assassination happening. Lila caves and says to five he’s gotta do this himself because her family is falling apart. Five is annoyed and makes a quip about how this is why he never lets romantic attachments get in in the way of him doing a job (stares directly into camera).
So five takes his sniper rifle and goes to the location early, where he’s positioned to take out their mark. Lila is out looking for Diego, and Diego is kitted up, on his way to take out these shady people he’s been making a case on, and intends to stop what they’re doing before they do it.
Anyone pick up where this is going yet?
Diego shows up at the location—a shady laboratory owned in secret by Reginald Hargreeves. The place is familiar. Diego slips into an alleyway. but what’s this? We’ve seen It’s the exact same alleyway but from a different point of view! Five is perched on the roof with a sniper, looking down at him. He gets his quarry in his sights and takes one final, steadying breath. This mission is going exactly as planned. The idiot showed up right as predicted. He didn’t even come with backup this time. It’s a textbook fish in a barrel. It’s almost disappointing how this couldn’t be an easier kill. But maybe Five’s glory days are just behind him. He puts his finger on the trigger.
Cut to diego and Lila’s house. It’s dark inside. Gracie and the twins have been put to bed and the in-laws are tired and in the living room. A phone rings, and it’s Lila, calling to say she hasn’t found Diego and is hoping he came back, but it’s not the case. Lila says she’ll be back soon and the in-laws begin packing up to go home. Gracie stands in the hallway, overhearing. To her, her whole world is falling apart, and she runs back to the twin’s bedroom in tears. She can’t believe this is happening. The lights are turned off in the hallway and the house grows quiet. The front door opens and closes and it’s implied that the in-laws have just gone home. Mum will be back soon, but the twins won’t stop crying, so Gracie gets up to get them some milk and cookies to make them happy again. She steps out into the dark hallway
To see a man dressed like Batman, in full fight gear. And she looks up at him with hope in her eyes, saying “daddy?”
Only surprise! It’s not, and they grab her as she lets out a scream. We cut to Diego as he reaches to open the door at the end of the alley only to find it locked, and realize he’s been set up. He spins around only for a gunshot to sound, and it cuts to black.
Lila comes back to the house. Finds it trashed. Finds her Inlaws murdered in horrific fashion in the driveway. Gracie and the twins are gone. And the little domestic life she and Diego made destroyed as we cut back to Diego, bleeding out in the street from what looks like a fatal gunshot.
Then five comes down from his perch to confirm his kill, only to realize what he’s just done.
So there. Here’s a dramatic, non-cheating subplot that has a similar amount of stakes that we could’ve had with season 4. Maybe Lila and Five end up going on a crusade for everyone to get their powers back so they can bring Diego back from the dead. Maybe this is what leads them to the subway, to mess with the timeline again, because as commission agents they can’t let go of the idea that time can be fixed and it isn’t theirs to mess with anymore. Maybe this sends Lila over the edge, and when trapped in the subway with five—she tries to murder him instead!! After all, he’s not only killed her parents, he’s now killed her husband! Why not have five scramble to figure out a way back for all those years while running for his life? (While a scooby-doo like soundtrack plays and they get all turned around and confused). Maybe Diego isn’t actually dead in the end, and it’s all a bait and switch to fool Reginald, who was watching and lines the whole thing up to fuck with them. Taking the kids as a deterrent so they won’t dig any deeper. But maybe in the last second before five pulls the trigger five hesitates. Maybe he doesn’t have what it takes to murder anymore. He swore it off earlier—what glory is he really chasing anyway? Maybe he recognizes the gait of the person in the alley and makes a non-killing shot to just take them out. Maybe he saw ahead that this was a setup by Reginald and made an agreement with Diego and filled his vest full of blood packets. And he fully knows Lila and Diego are both doing secret little vigilante gigs behind each others backs but tells neither because he really doesn’t want to get in the way of some stuffy marital dispute. Nooooo thanks. He had enough of that when he and Delores were together and bickering constantly. Five just wants his family alive and happy in whatever timeline they end up. (Chokes the spirit of Steve Blackman just a little bit harder)
Anyway, everyone else thinks Diego is dead; and all get together again. Weddings and funerals uniting them once more, and each of them reveal how life didn’t turn out how they wanted on their own, and they get to bond and unite to track down Gracie and the twins. “One last time” they agree, to be heroes and finally do something right. To save some little kids. Members of their family! Innocent ones, who don’t deserve to be caught up in their mess. And it culminates in confronting Reginald once and for all and destroying the ill-gotten gains he warped the universe in his favor for. And Reginald’s gone the rest of them can finally have peace of mind. Maybe the timeline genuinely gets better now that one monocoled megalomaniacal maniac isn’t in the centre of the universe anymore. The very thing that doomed the timeline before. And now the umbrellas are able to disband and go on in their lives as normal people in a timeline that exists with no favouritism at all. It’s all just what they make of it
(and hey! Maybe Diego comes back out of hiding and saves the day! And he and Lila both confess they want to take more active roles outside of being parents. And their kids are wowed by the fact that their parents are both superheroes. And it’s cool and awesome and I don’t sob at a very tragic defeatist ending of all I hold dear).
I don’t know guys. There’s so many different ways the final season could’ve gone, but not in a million years would I have chosen to make it go the way it did. That’s a whole other post—but in the end, I just know I’ll be entertaining my own little ideas for what happens to these characters I’ve grown and loved, and keep them alive in my own heart and AU story ideas. Thats the true canon for me, and the rest is just… fuss and marigold dust
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spaloonbabooguuscooties · 1 year ago
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You could drink your whole life away and still never get that taste out of your mouth.
half commission for @salempie half completely self indulgent dreck pieced together from our insane conversations abt franke and elka. told myself id finally write a big explanation for all of the dum shit between these two for context so Thats Under The Cut.
so I already wrote some stuff about elka and franke's relationship back in whispering rock so feel free to look at that too . it goes over elkas blindness/‘seeing’ with clairvoyance and how her and franke started talking & all that good stuff
SO FOR STARTERS. a lot of thsi wont make sense without a big breakdown of elka herself. because elkas potential as a character is like insane to me. like just the idea of her in the long run of her life reads as something so potentially tragic; a young girl whos plagued with visions of doom and destined to be an outcast even in her own home for things she cant control and clings to the One vision of her wedding that she thinks is 'happy' even despite the fact she doesnt really love the person in it. im choosing to take the li-po doc as canon here because its funny shes the only one with backstory-
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but my fucking god even the smallest look into what her parents are like is soo fucked up to me. and i do think elka especially gets a lot of influence from her mother; its funny how easily you can fit mabel doom into a box just from what elka says about her. knees deep in an avon-esque pyramid scheme and leaning into her daughters depressing ass visions & taking her to therapy at age 11 (which would be good if not for the kind of person you can already assume she is & so i doubt the therapist she has really does her any good. i think they share one). she reads as a very I Am My Daughters Best Friend type of mom to me and i can see elka being a centerpiece of the conversation when she has her Amway Girls over for drinks. wine-mom that lets her kid sip from the glass so she can feel like a big girl type deal.
and you can tell that elka is trying to hard to be too mature for her age even in her campster posts. how she writes letters to nils' mom and exchanges baking recipes with her and that feels like she really only interacts with middle aged women and not really many people her own age outside of camp (like her moms friends). which makes sense shed feel the need to ‘grow up’ early when shes probably had to process so many hard things at a young age bc of her visions.
theres a lot of filling the blanks here of course.
elka obsesses over nils to an overbearing degree even despite the fact he treats her like shit ('you promised no talking' and so on) and she treats him bad right back. she leans onto stereotypical heterosexual ideals like taking care of him and overblowing how Manly and Protective JT is and she admires romance stories like pride and prejudice and it feels like she Projects Soooooooo much of what she wants onto boys she barely feels anything for without knowing what its actually supposed to feel like. and clearly she WANTS that ideal future, a happy marriage, an actual romance- but according to nils even when they were dating she ignored him most of the time, which just seems Very Telling
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like shes filling a role, overcompensating for emotions and lacktherof she cant digest quite yet, and it only makes more sense when you know shes had visions of their future together. how could that be bad for her? shouldnt it be like the books and movies? but she doesnt really connect the fact that her visions are only for Doomed futures, and if she does she certainly doesnt show it. Doomed relationships. it's been a part of her family for generations and she isn't turning out much different, is she? i dont think she even realizes thats all she ever sees yet, just that its Going to happen. that it's Her future, and it always will be
and like, her only reference for a real marriage so far has been her own parents, and she already Knows they have an affair, and theyre doomed to split, (and i actually like to think they were in rough waters anyway and elka was a child meant to mend a crumbling marriage but thats a whole other thing) and so without a framework for what an actual healthy relationship is supposed to be like she cant really grasp that her relationship with nils Isnt that and isnt ever going to be. she can only cling to this one happy idea of the future, and thats why she keeps chasing him, self fulfilling the actuality of her situation and creating and fostering the unhappy life they will inevitably live together.
and that bleeds into everything else in her life, of course, because as the years go on, as the visions grow in number it just makes sense for her to fall into the predictability of her life. she always knows whats going to happen, her visions are Never wrong- so why try to change things? shes had time to process tragedies days, weeks, months, years before they happen, shes had time to settle into every crack of her life. her parents divorce, her various break ups, her future with the psychonauts.
“and she's already seen so much of a future with [nils] she feels trapped almost. Like she has to be happy in it or else it just means her life is miserable. And it's a mixture of pride and fear of the unknown that keeps her clinging to the One thing she knows. BUT LIKE!!! She knows what's gonna happen! It's easier to grieve when she's been grieving for years... She wants so badly to be happy, But to do that she has to step into the unfamiliar. And that's more terrifying than staying the same miserable person she's always been.”
and thats where franke comes in— and yeah you Do have to take a lot of liberties for frankes character since it’s basically, like, all the info for her is just that shes a Supreme Baby Dyke but thats enough for me. i think she has protective butch itch in her . on campster shes defensive over other women evidenced in the way she keeps watch over the girls cabins for lili when elton is pursuing her . but shes also eager to please and constantly trying to make kitty laugh and also Very naive. but she tries! and i think it only solidifies more as she gets Older and really gets a hold of her feelings & her powers. this is incredibly franke to me
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and i think as they grow older together— because i think franke and elka Do stay friends, both because elka is just pathetic and needs that positive connection even if she doesnt realize it and because i think franke is a very Loyal person & annoyingly persistent if you let her be . and i am also a kitty/franke truther. because kittys also important in this web we weave
because i think franke and kitty stay together after camp, to a point— theres a falling out facilitated on kittys end and they break up, but reconnect, and franke kind of... saves kitty from herself a little, from her strict military father whos love only extends thru finances , from her own stifling future , she drives all the way to bakersville in her shitty van handmedowned from her dad and they move in together eventually . they get jobs at the motherlobe , because it’s a pipeline to a decent job, because it’s whats easy, because franke doesn’t really have a future, because she’s never really been good at much, because shes never had much sense, because franke doesnt really care as long as she can live and help, sometimes, if she can, and because kitty’s there, and because elka’s there, and shes so used to being elkas eyes now and shes good at it. shes good at being the muscle of the missions when her colleagues lack it, when hypnosis and predictions arent enough. she likes it that way.
and elka appreciates frankes company. she listens, shes sweet, she does little things for her that no ones ever really put the effort for before; she likes her. franke is strong and bold and makes her laugh and shes always there but god elka cant let go of that future, of that box shes put herself in, that her mothers put her in, of being a Good Wife to a Loving Husband, of getting married normally and falling into unfailing familiarity. thats all shes ever wanted and shes not going to jeopardize that . not for franke, who may not be a boy but is handsome like one, whos always held her after every break up with nils and the men that filled empty days inbetween.
and elka is too stubborn to recognize those feelings anyway. too prideful to accept a way out. too set in her cycle no matter how much she hates it, her little self fulfilling tragedy of her own making, wallowing in her own doom. she struggles for control of her own life when she feels like every choice has been made for her anyway, she puts up her walls and carefully constructs what people see. but franke was always harder to trick, because while empathy isnt a particularly useful psychic power it’s certainly an inconvenient one. all franke has to do is get too close and all those carefully crafted walls fall apart, and elkas control is gone, and thats all she really has. and she tries to distance herself, really she does, but franke is also too persistent. and elka wears gloves, keeps contact that would make her walls crumble from happening as best as she can, but she cant really keep herself from the brief moments where she feels like someone actually fucking cares about her.
and that slightest lack of control, the need to wrestle it back is why she proposes to nils the next time theres a falling out— she knows how it happens, she plans every detail. and he accepts, despite everything. gets her a cheap ring and it feels like lead on her finger and its nothing at all like how shed thought it to be when she was a kid, theres no feather light feeling in her chest, only that dreadful reality that she cant turn this back. BUT WHAT CAN U DO LMAO
elka doesnt tell franke about this engagement until later, on their way back from a mission. late at night when neither of them can sleep, and franke invites elka to smoke in her van, because its been so long since theyve been alone like that, because elkas been so strangely absent lately. and because of everything, because frankes always so damn nice, because elka hates the feel of the ring on her finger, because she let herself get high alone with franke fucking athens whos always been so good at pulling her apart— the truth of it all spills out and its messy and emotional and she hates it, she hates the life shes made for herself, but franke makes it easier to bare and now shes here and shes so close and god she wishes she could see her smile again, she wishes she could see franke, thats all she needs right now and she cant but she can touch her and she can hold her and for tonight, she can be known, she can let those walls crumble, she can be something else just for once here with franke . she can kiss her here in this van, touch that happiness for just a moment, and forget the future that waits for her outside of it. franke begs her to forget the wedding, to just let herself be happy— and god, she wants to, but it means turning her back on everything shes known and everything shes saw to be inevitable, and franke has never been in her future, so if it were supposed to work out why hadnt she seen it and she cant, she cant take that risk but she can have this, even if its temporary, she can have it.
and just as soon as she gets a taste of it, its gone. after that night, after the missions over and theyre back at the motherlobe and have to pretend like nothing happened (franke doesnt, of course she tells kitty about it, she tells kitty about everything.) but that brief moment together haunts elka every time she sees franke, sees herself through frankes eyes, sees herself in her wedding dress because god its all franke can think about! of course it is! she knows how much elkas destroying herself she knows how much misery shes wallowing in that kiss in the van felt like an emotional punch to the teeth and she hasnt ever forgotten it and all she can do is sit and watch while elka throws herself into a loveless marriage. she can come to her wedding and see the way the bride and groom kiss with the emotional weight of a wet towel no matter how hard elka tries to hide it under a pretty dress and bouquets of flowers and meticulous planning.
and elka resents nils but she cant really hate him, its not his fault, not really. he feels trapped just like she does and his feelings of misery only cycle back into hers . they fight and gnash and wear away at each other and its a relationship thats crashed and burned a million times before elka even said i do. and its inevitable that she falls into her mothers habits, a sip of wine here and there to loosen up, until it turns to a glass, until it falls into a bottle on nights when whatever work nils does runs late.
but franke’s still there. shes always been there, hasn’t she? always trying to play knight, always trying to save her, dragging her home when shes stumbling over herself because god who else is going to do it but her? who else is left to care? certainly not nils. never nils. because franke knows her. because franke pities her. shes always pitied her. shes always known. and elka hates it, she resents it, but god in the same breath she’s desperate for it, she envies it to her very bones. elka is a mess but after frankes done with her she has someone to go back to that loves her. and god what elka wouldnt do to have that. to take it and keep it for herself because shes never ever got to have that movie romance shes always wanted.
so now comes this.
because elkas particularly miserable and particularly spiteful and she needs to get franke to understand, just for a moment, drink with her and get on her level and she needs her there with her no matter how her pity makes her feel. no matter how much it makes her shake with anger and envy and desperation, but god the way franke looks at her, the way she still tries to salvage what they have, the soft, slurred way she tells her that it’s okay but its not okay, none of this is okay, it never has been and she just wants franke to shut up and see that, and if she cant then she’ll show her, she’ll show her all the raw angry desperation, with too much teeth and hands that claw and grab and she’ll know why everyones always said she’s too much.
and she knows this puts her on nils’ level too. that this makes her a cheater, that shes no better than he is now. no better than her father and his affair. but god, she wants to be selfish. she wants to be in control. just for once. she wants to feel right and she wants to feel happy and she wants to feel loved. thats all shes ever wanted. and franke will let her have that, just for a little while, at the very least.
anyway. sorry. sorry for being crazy . this isnt even getting into the shit after the comic takes place . elkas stupid brainworld thag she has to overcome in order to finally be allowed in the polycule and live happily ever as worlds first lesbian divorceman
sorry for all the shit i make up instead of caring about actual characters with screentime . bye !
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rinhaler · 10 months ago
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Sorry luxe I fell asleep! But the dirty thought I had about Stepdad Toji and uncle Shiu was: let's say Toji is a sex addict and also turned reader in one too. This causes Toji a lot of trouble because he always ends up late for his meetings with shiu and whomever commissions Toji! It gets too the point where Shiu finds himself curious as to what makes Toji so late for these very important meetings, so shiu ends up asking- Now Toji doesn't just share reader with anyone, but since he's known him for so long he practically doesn't mind so he calls reader and tell her to be ready, butt ass naked and wet when he gets home because he has a surprise guest coming over. Little do we know it's over uncle shiu who's helped raise us since mother dearest is no longer with us. Shiu comes over and sees exactly what he sees and calls Toji a sick fuck... But he's also a sick fuck too since the tent in his pants is very noticeable- something Toji and reader both point out all for this to end up being a competition that also turned into a bet that whomever cums first gets to keep reader for at least a week -🐰
"let's say Toji is a sex addict" SOLD
💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥
no but omg???? this whole thing??? i am barking i am feral i am going insane i am going stupid i need them both?? omg shiu pretending to be grossed out but hard as hell is SOOOO yummy please :((( who do u think would win 👀
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love-toxin · 3 months ago
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i have seen deadpool and wolverine 7 times in theaters. i need to kiss both of those men and i need them to kiss each other. we all need to hold hands and hug and kiss and skip in a circle together. and then have hot graphic sex together.
i need to be sandwiched in between them with no way to escape while they’re pissed at each other so they feel bad when they calm down. need them to start fucking all gentle out of guilt, like my brain didn’t melt out of my ears cuz they were so damn rough. need them to accidentally overstimulate me because they didn’t know they made me cum more than once during their bickering. need them to start fucking each other with me still between them cuz im outta commission but they still want to be as close to me as physically possible. need the friction of their bodies to accidentally cause a final orgasm so deep and slow it knocks me out, only to wake up hours later still between them. (goddamn healing factors)
ANON I WANNA LIVE IN UR BRAIN SO BAD!!!!
uuuuuugghhhnnnnm i just know the sex would be CRAZY. Logan and Wade both having regeneration and violent tendencies and having to have some kinda restraint to not literally kill you while you're sandwiched between them 😵‍💫 fighting over who gets ur ass first 😩😩 woof. thinkin of them having a tally on a notepad (mostly Wade, lets be fr) keeping score of how many times each of them get lucky with you and getting scary competitive over it. looking at the tallies an seeing one of them is lower than the other this week and realizing you're gonna get your bones jumped hardcore just for one of them to make up the score. sometimes they're bickering so much even a kiss makes them jealous--you peck Logan on the chin and Wade's whining about it being unfair until you lean over and give him one too. but as soon as he starts stealing another and another Logan grabs your neck and shoves his own tongue down your throat and whoops, the boys are duking it out again!
also.......the pull out game being weak as hell. each of them just end up pushing you deeper on to the other and it's no wonder they can't abort the mission on time--some days you get treated so nice and gentle and like a little noble on your throne, and some days you end the night with your lap just soaked and have to accept your fate when they both fall asleep still buried inside. but bc ur their pookie they're so sweet afterwards <33 you're not like them, you need a bath and treats and cuddles to recover when they rough you up! the babying from them would be sooooooo tasty and it just compliments the insane ball-busting hole-resizing craziness that happens whenever they're riled up and get so much as arm's reach from you. ugh!!!!
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gladiatorcunt · 3 months ago
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- # MERCURY POISONING !!
i wanna be found, passenger in your car (don’t leave)
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cw: based on an ask for plus sized afab!reader, ambiguous era, pt. 3 to these posts, (toxic but softer with reader) dom!art x sub!reader x (toxic but softer with reader) switch!patrick, daddy kink, usage of the words fat & chubby etc. as something positive bc they can be! sexualized self esteem excersizes/body positivity/methods of fixing your insecurities lol, dead dove hints & vibes but not too apparent, established poly relationship, implied sensory issues & insecurities relating to being plus sized, porno type dirty talk meant to be that way, character/relationship study vibes, mild fighting/jealousy/possessiveness (playful and light hearted), hinted dacryphilia & overstimulation & orgasm delay/denial but not rlly they’re just playing, patrick’s very hairy bc i said so, anal & spanking & rimming bc they <3 ur fat ass, thigh fucking, chubby chaser vibes, video recordings (that don’t get shared), alcohol mention (fantasy of doing body shots)
wc: 3.2k
1k event. / please consider commissioning me!
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You’ve been getting better at getting out of your own head, your confidence has grown a lot over the course of your relationship with your boyfriends. You used to beg them to keep the lights off and they were lucky if you sent 1% of the total amount of nudes that stay locked away in your group chat. As time has gone by, you’re allowing the house to be bathed in a warm glow and you’ll send cute little videos of you shaking your ass while you hump their pillows.
They’re so proud of you, coming out of your shell in all the ways they always knew you could. Plus, it never mattered that they couldn’t see you in all your glory at first (though it drove them insane to have to be content with imagining how your body looks as it jiggles as they hammer into your holes), they just wanted you to be comfortable and happy. That’s never gonna stop being their number one priority.
So it’s a gift when you beckon them closer in your silk bathrobe, your after shower movie nights never fail to derail into a different kind of show. You lean your head back against Art’s shoulder and languidly arch your back, your panties brushing against his bulge in an “accidental” movement. He softly hisses and gives Patrick a look, your eyes follow him in confusion as you watch him run to get something from the bedroom and come back. In his hairy hands rests a pile of post it notes and a black marker from your stash on your desk. Your brow furrows but you’re much more interested in getting Art’s half-hard cock re-acquainted with the cleft of your ass. Your cheeks part to make way for his length that’s quickly chubbing up.
“Fuck, angel, you couldn’t have waited until the movie was over?” Art teases and reclines against the couch, looking every bit as satisfied as a king.
You smile and find comfort in the implication of being split open and speared, impaled by someone who loves you, “Needed you now, and we’ve seen Gladiator before.”
His tip is a millimeter away from catching on your hole but Patrick wrenches you up out of Art’s lap and into his. If Art is the overarching king, Patrick is the spoiled prince that treats you like you’re a piping hot turkey leg. He tears you to bits with his teeth, snarling and licking his lips to chase the taste.
“Please, c’mon, fuckin’ need to taste you so bad. Need you to break my neck when you sit on my face.” He hisses, more rabid dog than human man.
The post it notes in his hand are getting crushed by his too tight grip, Patrick realizes what he’s doing and
Your eyes glint dangerously as you swivel your hips from side to side, causing your thick cheeks to jiggle around Art’s cock. You stare Patrick dead in the eye, so horny that you’re not shy about showing them how much you’re willing to put on a show for them. To become their favorite stripping whore that would rather die mid lap dance then be normal about wanting them. Art groans and clamps a heavy hand onto your right cheek, your flesh bulging out in between his fingers as he gropes you like you’re just some hot piece of ass.
You are, but they appreciate you for more than just your best assets. Even though there are times where your stretch marks and stomach rolls feel like equal parts of the relationship, to name a couple extra members of their weird little harem.
Art laughs, the rich guy kind of laugh that soaks your underwear and drips onto their country club floor, “What’d we say about teasing, hm? Daddy’s already about to burst, he’ll just come crying to me if you don’t give him what he wants.”
Patrick peels off one of the sticky notes and glares weakly, but he doesn’t deny it.
When you’re not in the mood to have sex, or Patrick pushes your buttons too often and too much, you’ll lie on your tummy in your canopy bed and watch with droopy eyes as Art puts the other man through the ringer. Fucking machines, nipple clamps, vibrators in multiple places and Patrick’s lips spreading around a ball gag. You’re there for the aftercare, running your hands through his hair and calling him Daddy while you cockwarm his soft dick.
“We have a present for you too, Angel, a little self esteem exercise.” Art coos, abruptly stopping your movements and sliding his hands around your hips.
You feel the warning bubbling under the surface, and you know you won’t be moving from your position until he explicitly says so. You both call Patrick Daddy, because he needs it, but Art needs to actually put it into practice to feel satisfied with his life. He started out as the friend that “fathered” you and Patrick, and something corny like this is so him that it’s mind bogglingly sexy. He loves a good pussy inspection, letting his “assistant” handle your other hole.
The minutes that passed are littered with neon sticky notes that bear crudely written compliments and affirmations. Ones that Patrick came up with are charmingly lewd, the stuff that oddly endearing porn video comments wish they could be made of.
“Tummy rolls so squishy I squirted and my dick fell off.”
“Chubby pussy #1 crack cocaine hotspot, watch out.”
“Who needs church when you have these jiggly tits?”
“God peaked with this one, No Nut November final boss.”
“Everyone on Earth should die but me and my boyfriends because my boyfriends would miss my fat ass.”
“World’s best thick thighs.”
“My chubby cheeks look so cute when a cock is bulging out of them that it brings people to tears.”
“Looks so pretty being double stuffed, fat bitches just take dick better.” *And a badly drawn shrug emoji.*
Art’s messages are heart warming in their own way, but it’s the underlying assured dominance and smoothness in the written tone that make the experience so sensual. With him, it’s about reading in between the lines more than it is about getting on the dick and doing splits on it right away. The prey is being circled by its hunter until they can’t stop the inevitable from happening. The jaws of a bear trap and the teeth of men are the same things in different bodies.
“Such gorgeous curves, running my hands over them takes all my stress away.”
“Perfect cock sucking lips, so good my boyfriends couldn't be prouder of me if they tried.”
“My beautiful baby, with the cutest chubby tummy that puts everyone else to shame.”
“This ass was made for spanking, it could honestly never be fat enough. Still waiting on a demonstration to see how well they move to music.”
“Stretch marks + cum waist chains = <3”
“At their best when taking bites of cake and getting the frosting smeared all over their face after a cum bath. Can’t tell the difference when they mix together sometimes.”
“To be bred.” And a doodle that resembles those corny car decals with the stick figure parents and their ridiculously large family.
The notes feel well…. uh…. sticky on your skin. Awkward too, but the fiery worship etched onto your boyfriend’s faces makes it all worth it. Patrick drools as he takes in the sight of your tits covered in the brightly colored stationary, and you can tell he really isn’t focusing on the words on them so much as he is the heaving boobs they’re attached too. Art sighs pleasantly and runs a hand over the notes covering your ass, not caring about the sounds of crinkling paper or his nails lightly scratching against it. You almost look like a modern art project, nude and adorned with pure love.
“How about a reward for being such a trooper? Gonna give you that dick you’ve been craving, Angel.” Art says, helping you peel the notes off and tossing them on the floor. (He’ll remember to pick them up and keep them in a box for you, in case you need the reminders, or just to see you squirm because you’re so silly you can’t even take a compliment when you’re not fucked out and cock drunk.)
Patrick does the same on his end, and you get only a few seconds to open your mouth and stammer (being bold isn’t a permanent thing, apparently) before you feel the wet sensation of a tongue darting around your rim. You gasp, trying to turn around to look at Art burying his face between your ass cheeks but Patrick tugs your face back in his direction and catches you in a toe curling sloppy kiss. His specialty, all saliva and his slick tongue seducing yours to slide against it hopelessly searching for the solution to the feeling blooming deep in your guts.
Art pulls back, dragging his tongue along your rim as he glances up at you and Patrick, smiling. “Mmm, look at that, pussy’s saying hello. ‘s inviting me in, it’d be rude to say no.”
You obviously can’t respond while you’re getting tongue fucked, but if you could you think you might cry. It should be what you want, what you always want. But doesn’t your ass deserve the same treatment your cunt gets? Doesn’t it deserve to get fucked through every circle of hell and back around again like your mouth does? You wiggle your hips in front of Art’s face, announcing your disapproval and moaning into Patrick’s mouth.
Wiggling gets your ass smacked, Art is quick to remind you. He soothes the sting of his (to him) gentle love tap with a loving kiss to the center of the thick globe, nipping the area for good measure.
“Don’t get greedy, I can always pay this hole some attention later. Gonna eat this ass like it deserves when you’re too dumb to push me away when it gets too much.” Because that's what you always do, pretty kitty that can’t seem to back up your big mouth with your stamina.
You like it when they keep going after you pass out though, so it’s a win win for you either way. The rocking motions your pudge makes when they speed up their thrusts has the same effect as a rickety rocking chair on you. This time will most likely be no different, you’ve been so stressed with all the responsibilities you have to deal with, you deserve a good all expenses paid trip to pound town more than ever right now. Patrick grunts and bites your bottom lip, cracking his eyes open to gaze longingly at the swell of your ass. He’ll clearly want his own seat at the table for Art’s midnight snack.
“Now keep kissing on Daddy, need your mouth and brain occupied so you don’t tense up, baby.” Art murmurs as he rises up on his knees, kneeling on the couch and reaching forward to spread your plump ass cheeks to catch a sight of the prize hidden below them.
Your pussy’s glistening, your pubic hair’s all wet and stuck to your mound because you’re that soaked. Your face burns, and for once you’re glad that you can’t see how smug Art looks right now. Patrick too, he’d rub your face in it (then mash it into his bulge). You get lost in the sauce, making out with Patrick is not something for the weak, the way his tongue digs into your mouth like he’s trying to eat you from the inside out fucks you up mentally. There’s hushed whispering going on behind you, like Art’s having an engaging conversation with your pussy.
“You don’t mind if I don’t prep you that much, right? You can take it, always gushing and babbling like a river when you see me. ‘s gonna make Daddy jealous.”
He pushes in a couple fingers anyway, crooking them just right and scissoring them into your heat when you seem a little too into your kiss with Patrick. Oh well, you’ll remember that he’s still there soon enough. You make the cutest little squeaks against Patrick’s lips, and he just can’t resist meanly pinching your nipples and squeezing your tits like they’re water balloons. Patrick breaks away to lob a flurry of pecks along your throat, hurriedly stopping every so often to quickly suck the patch of skin he’s hovering over at that moment. You sigh, knuckle deep in perpetual bliss, and arch into his touch. The exposure of more skin calls Patrick like blood to a shark and he’s on it, a few licks away from slobbering on your pulse point.
“Hah- Fuck, Daddy, shit- so good.” You moan and succumb to his whims, the added pressure in your pussy only heighting the climbing pleasure you’re feeling.
Art whistles slowly as he slides his fingers out, depriving you of the show that is him licking them clean fried chicken style, no skin or meat left on the bone in sight. Your poor hole clenches around nothing, pouting like you would if he could see you. But he already does that everytime he closes his eyes, you live wrapped around the nerve endings connected to his brain, a beloved parasite. He’d love nothing more than to do shots off your body, then chase it down with a lime wedge and your pussy juice.
(Yes they’d love you if you were a worm, but maybe they’d prefer you to be a tapeworm that lives inside one of them.)
He grasps his aching hard dick in his hands, shallowly pumping up and down in lazy strokes as he just dead eye stares at your puffy pussy. Your folds are so chubby that your little clit is hidden away, but he knows that he’ll find it in no time at all when the mood strikes him. You and Patrick make the prettiest picture, two messy pets that need to stick together so much that they love to swap spit. Art loves a good three way kiss, but he will always have a special soft spot for watching his babies play. He likes to be the overseeing figure in the room when it’s just about you and Patrick, makes him feel like he’s doing something right, taking care of the three of you. Keeping you all inside this fragile bird’s nest.
“Pat, keep ‘em there, be a good boy and do what you’re best at.” He orders, positioning his long cock at your entrance and easing the bell shaped tip in.
When you exhale into him, Patrick can imagine that it’s his hole being pushed in. The way your back bends, your upper half curling towards the slick-sticky-hot attention being paid to your backside. Your mouth splits apart as you gape and silently cry out for something beyond the capabilities of a mortal man. Art’s dick brushes against the fleshy globes of your ass teasingly as he sinks into your walls. Inch by inch, you’re getting re-acquainted and reuniting dear old friends.
Patrick pets your head and pulls you closer to knock his forehead against yours, “ It’s okay, you were made for this, your body’s been built for this. Made for him, made for me.”
Art’s cock is his cock and vice versa when it comes to you. You’re like a magical fleshlight, Patrick swears he can feel your velvet grip suck in more of his girth, even as he creates a necklace for you out of teeth indents.
You hang your head, courageously allowing yourself to be carved into, “Ohhhhh, thank you, Daddy.”
He starts getting impatient though, as he always does, and shuffles around so he can slide under your body. His stubble scratches against your folds as he lies there, just breathing on your pussy and reaching up to feel where Art is splitting your ass open. You choke on a startled moan when Patrick’s fingers tease the barely there veins on Art’s cock and then rub little circles into your clit. Art groans and lets his self control slip a tad, he grinds his teeth together and plunges the rest of the way into you in one thrust. Patrick fucking chuckles, bouncing the other man’s balls in his hands as he nudges the hump of his nose bridge against your poor throbbing clit.
They like to have competitions over who can make you cum faster when they eat you out. Patrick is more of a messy eater, he doesn’t have much of a technique and relies on how horny the raw scent of pussy gets him. He’ll slobber all over your folds and hollow his cheeks as he sucks the soul out of your clit. He knows you like his nose too so he always makes sure to let you hump it as much as you want. Art’s not quite so vivacious, he prefers to methodically kitten lick your clit until your begging just gets too close to sobbing (his favorite) and he moves down to expertly tongue fuck you into overstimulation.
Patrick has you hurtling over the edge in a not bad five minutes, not his best but not his worst time. Art’s done better, the smug grin he sends down at him saying as much. You’re still reeling from Art dragging out his thrusts in your ass so you’re forced to feel every inch of his long length grapple onto your impossibly tight walls as it slides in and out. Schlick, pop, schlick, pop, schlick, pop. Your boys being who they are don’t let you recover much in between orgasms, they just want their baby to feel so good you wish you’d die. So Art postpones making you cum on his cock and swaps with Patrick, it’s one of those kinds of days where devouring you to the bone very nearly beats pummeling the shit out of your holes.
Art makes you cum so hard on his tongue that you gush like a burst pipe four minutes later, and Patrick speeds up his movements. Your ass feels like it’s torn and two and impaled on a tree trunk but it’s just as well, you’re ruined for anybody else who thinks they’d know how to handle your delectable body. He harshly slaps both of your jiggling ass cheeks like it’s your fault he lost their little match.
He fondly sneers and holds his hand out above your head, beseechingly. Like how someone would ask a dog to spit out whatever they shouldn’t have in their mouth, but they’re too cute to be genuinely mad at.
Art grins and climbs out from under you. He rolls his shoulders back, a winner doing a victory lap.
He spits out a glob of your cum, “fat pussy cum tastes like candy,” and grants him a deep kiss of his own. They hug around you and their mouths drift apart, returning to your shoulders and dancing along them. There’s no purpose or intent to kickstart another round, they just want to worship their baby, tongues cleaning and appraising the marble bones of your statue. Though they know depriving you of raw cock is its own torture, you’ll get your holes filled before the night over. You haven’t even started properly whining and batting your eyelashes yet.
You on the other hand can't wait to see how they’ll react to your anniversary present, the special frosting and sprinkles are tucked away in their own shelf in a cabinet on the floor. You’re too scared to take a risk by adding a candle, but they’ll get the idea anyway.
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brabblesblog · 7 months ago
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𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.
Ch 11: I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth
A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)
After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.
Preparations for the wedding begin.
Professionally edited and collaborated on by my dearest friend <3 @editing-by-night
Read on AO3.
Masterlist
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Art commissioned from the amazing @dafna-winchester
Astarion peered down at his hand, eyeing the ring now wrapped around his ring finger. A simple gold band, not too thick - lovely, if a little too plain, he mused. Beside him Ban admired her own ring, just as simple, much to his displeasure.
He’d allowed her to select the rings, allowed her pretty much free rein over organizing the wedding, content with watching her fulfill her dreams of being wed to him.
Married. Such an odd notion, especially for him. Over two centuries old and he’d never considered it would happen for him, especially after he’d turned. He’d dismissed it as a youthful dream, stolen away by his undeath. He’d never thought he’d find the person he was meant for, and even when he’d been confident it was her, there had been so many things that had threatened it.
He remembered the first hundred or so bodies he’d lain with. He’d dreaded feeling that certainty and devotion when he’d bedded them, terrified of finding his thiramin in a victim he would have no hope of saving. What would he have done if his heart had stirred for someone who was doomed by simply having met him? The loss would have likely driven him to madness; elves often went insane, many ended their lives, when they lost their thiramin. He had no illusions that Cazador would have allowed him a second death had that happened to him. He couldn’t imagine what he would have become.
But then the years had stretched on, endless and dreary, and none of them ever stirred him. He’d thought no one ever would. His heart had lain still, silent save for the slow, undead beats, and he’d resigned himself to an eternity of loneliness. Of being less than whole.
She had brought that dream back, though. She’d awakened his heart, made it long for more. And then she’d restored it. His heart, now beating, living. Hers.
He looked back down at the ring, feeling the cool metal with his fingers. Whatever style it would be, he knew he’d find it perfect. However…
“You could at least add a rock or two, Ban.” He looked over at her. “Rubies, to match my eyes. Diamonds, to match my skin…”
He gave her a gentle nudge and Ban playfully bumped her shoulder against his. He smirked, stepping behind her as if to admire the display from over her shoulder. His hands slowly slid down her back to grip her ass, squeezing through the thin fabric of her dress. He noted the lack of underwear, pleasantly surprised.
“It seems like there’s less… material here than usual,” he purred into her ear. She shivered as his hands traced the curve of her ass.
“I figured you’d want easier access if you chose to end our little game early.”
“Tempting, but that won’t work.” He pressed against her back, hands reaching over her, as if he were merely admiring the ring on her finger. He lifted her hand up so that it shone in the light; as he did, he surreptitiously ground his hips against her ass, cock nestling in the cleft.
She jerked hard, gasping in surprise, then pressed back against him. He allowed it for several deliciously torturous seconds, allowed himself this small moment of intense desire as he closed his eyes and imagined bending her over the stall, vendors be damned, the wares clattering to the ground as he spread her legs, sliding his cock deep inside her…
He forced his eyes open, drawing away, chuckling at the bereft whine that came out of her.
“Later? When we’re alone?” Ban pleaded, making no effort to hide the desperation in her voice. He gave her a small shake of the head.
“I’ve never wanted anything more, my love, but sadly I must decline. You won’t get out of it that easily; you ought to know that by now.” He nipped her neck playfully, enjoying her quiet groan, then nodded at the ring on her hand. “Better get back to ring shopping, love. Were I you I’d reconsider the choice of design. Vanity aside… stones would add a little more luxury to it.”
“If I got rocks, it would be woefully inconvenient. It would snag on things, and were we to get into a scrap, it would easily get damaged. Another thing to worry about.”
He thought about this for a moment.
“Engravings would not catch on clothing nor weapons,” he suggested. She’d chosen the rings from a selection the jeweler had presented them with, and she had picked these. He hadn’t complained, especially when she said she’d want them to match, but a tad more opulence never hurt.
She turned to the jeweler to discuss alterations. Astarion watched her, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
The past few tendays had been a bustle of activity, the wedding planning having taken precedence over everything else. Tailors, florists, caterers, jewelers - the list had been almost endless, the palace almost never empty. Nights were the only quiet moments, even more so now that they were playing their game. Abstaining from sex wasn’t easy for either of them, but they’d been having fun with it, and the lack meant their nights were spent wrapped in each other’s arms, discussing anything and everything. He found he loved it, even when the conversation went to heavier topics, as it had the other night.
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“Astarion,” she murmured, nuzzling against his neck. He gave a small hmm? in response, opening his eyes. He’d been drifting off, thoughts of tomorrow’s meeting with the florist and the frankly overwhelming choices of floral arrangements looming annoyingly large in his mind.
She traced a path downwards with her lips, ending at the hollow of his throat. “I still don’t know what to do with Adrien. I don’t think we’ll be able to convince my parents to reveal anything, much less help me see him.”
Ah. He’d been turning the idea over in his mind, considering possible methods to prise the information from Roderich.
“Would Adrien be amenable to meeting you in secret?”
She scoffed, her breath tickling his skin. “He would never dare defy them to such a degree. He’d… he’d tell me to ask them, or have the meeting with them present. I’m not even certain where he is, or how I can establish contact with him. He… he might even hate me for leaving, which I guess I deserve.”
“Hate you for leaving?” he asked, incredulous. “And since when has it become your problem that your sibling cannot stand up for himself?”
Ban pressed her head against the swell of his chest. He’d wrapped a comforting hand over her head, pressing her closer to his heart. “I was the older sister. I could… should have done more.”
“Did he ever stand up for you?”
She fell silent, merely shaking her head.
He sighed. “You’re not required to save everyone. You never were,” he added, irritation creeping into his voice. An old grievance - not that he minded her saving him and their companions, of course - but the fact that she always somehow thought it her responsibility to help out, even when it risked herself, irked him.
“Oh, I know,” she shrugged. “But it should be what I want to do. Or at least what a better person would want to do.”
He blinked, surprised. “I never mentioned it being something you should be doing, Ban. I merely assumed you, with your bleeding heart back then-”
She laughed, and he found himself even more confused, brow furrowing. He looked down at her as she peered from where she’d snuggled against his chest; to his shock she seemed mildly amused.
“Bleeding heart?” She shook her head. “Far from it, Astarion. Too far, even.”
“Then what of the tieflings? The gnomes? You had us save each and every one of them - a tiresome task, which I’m sure I’ve mentioned to you.” The confusion gave way to incredulity. “Are you saying you never really… cared?”
She splayed a hand over the dip in his chest, silent. He noticed she looked away, as if considering something; he felt her mind touch his and let her in.
He was holding a greatsword, effortlessly hefting its weight in both hands. Before him a tiefling spoke, begging for help. He could feel his lungs exhale in a sigh, a surge of irritation in his mind. He opened his mouth.
“Astarion! We need to help them. Can you come with me?”
He saw himself, clad in that drow’s armor, striding closer. “Must we?” His other self stood lackadaisically, hands on hips.
He felt fond amusement, bordering on giddy joy, and intense affection. His eyes couldn’t even seem to lock onto his other self, heart racing and cheeks flushing as he attempted to do so. His back straightened up and he spoke, eyes pointedly fixed at a spot above the other Astarion’s hair.
“They need help. So,” his hand rose, letting go of the massive sword long enough to beckon. The hand came into his view.
Her hand. Her memories. He’d known, of course, but it was still rather novel watching his past self glower as he approached her. It was far more amusing to feel her silly crush, a warmness seeping through her at his mere presence.
But beyond that, the feeling she wanted him to notice was there: an irritation with the tieflings, tamped down by a begrudging reminder that helping them would be the right thing to do.
The vision shifted, and he was her yet again, a man covered in soot before her. She felt the man’s ring in her pocket, tempted, for a split second, to walk away with it. They did need the gold, and for a fleeting moment she considered giving it to Astarion, then stopped herself. He’d consider it a stupid gesture.
She saw Astarion burst in through the broken doors beside her, scowling at the smoke; the color of the feelings immediately changed, turning into pleasant excitement and glee at having him near.
“Darling,” his past self drawled, “let’s just go. This place won’t do our clothes any favors.”
She sighed and made a decision, hand slipping into her pocket, fishing out the ring for the man. He saw his old self sigh.
Another memory, this one of Oskar Fevras. She’d convinced the Zhent to let him go, but…
He could feel her debating whether to give the man some coin. Her thoughts flitted from an outright no to a perhaps; she then turned to him.
“The pouch, please,” she said, all confident and unfazed when his past self inevitably grumbled, but inwardly hanging onto every word and move he made.
Again, the feeling was there, the annoyance at Oskar for bothering them, the urge to just let him leave penniless - it wasn’t my concern, she thought - and then a reluctant voice in her head told her to do better.
He finally pulled away from her mind, opening his eyes to see her still peering up at him. She averted her eyes the moment they met.
“Not… good,” she stated. “Never was, like I said.”
She had indeed said so before, but he hadn’t really believed her then. He huffed out a laugh, masking the sheer relief settling into him. Not good, indeed. How long had he tormented himself with the idea that he’d ruined her, that she’d corrupted herself by allowing his ascension? Not that he hadn’t, he mused - seven thousand dead was quite a few degrees worse than anything they’d ever done before or since - but the confirmation that she was no saint, not an angel whose wings he’d torn off and dragged to hell with him was a relief. He ruffled her hair again, a little rougher this time, amused by her snort of annoyance for messing it up.
“You’ve mentioned that, yes.” He clenched his jaw. “At the time I thought you meant the events of the rite.”
She bit her lip. He could almost taste the way she began to turn away, her expression closing off. But it lasted for mere seconds. Instead she exhaled heavily.
“No. I meant… always. Being good, or moral, I suppose, is work, work I constantly have to remind myself to do. I don’t want to be what they raised me to be, as natural as it feels.” Her eyes finally met his. “I want to be more, and…” she shrugged, “I’ve failed. Especially when it mattered most.”
“If you mean helping me at the rite…” he began, fingers stilling on the path they had been taking on her head.
“No. I mean with you. After.” She sat up, biting her lip. “You made mistakes. I made more. It just didn’t fix anything.” He watched her fingers twist and tangle as she continued. “When I first saw you, I saw that you were like me, that… being better isn’t in your nature, either.” She was interrupted by his rather humorless laugh.
“You could say that, yes.”
Despite the seriousness of the conversation she felt a small smile ghost her lips. “I saw that… that you were like me. But you were also in so much pain. So much suffering in so beautiful a man, in so precious a soul.” She watched his eyes widen and squeezed his hand. “I saw you at night, saw how you sought solace in my arms when nightmares haunted you. Saw how you kept everyone else at arm’s length, even if at first I thought you actually were attracted to me.”
Astarion pressed his lips to the top of her head then, placing a short, intense kiss as an apology. She squeezed his bicep, sending a thought through. It’s alright.
“I forgave you that a long time ago. Probably would have forgiven you the second you did it. I can’t blame you, after all. I’m no great beauty.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I just saw all that sorrow, saw that you needed kindness. Needed care.” With every word she traced his cheekbone, then moved to his jawline.
“I wanted to be your rock, then. To protect you, to be where you could hide. Even if…” she swallowed, “even if I could not let you in. Not enough.”
He huffed, a sharp exhale of breath, and she looked up in surprise. Part of him wanted to assuage her concerns about her physical beauty, but he decided to tackle the more pertinent issues first. “I did not need a cave to shelter in, Ban. I needed a home.” She opened her mouth to apologize, but he continued. “Be that as it may, I was… not aware of it, at the time. What I needed and what I wanted were two entirely distinct things.”
“I’m sorry.”
His arms tightened around her. “Forgiven, as you know all too well. As for… what you really are, Ban. Why refuse me a glimpse of that? You knew we were alike; you had to have known I’d have wholeheartedly accepted you as you have done for me.”
“Thought I could be better. Thought… you needn’t carry that burden. That you deserved someone whole and good, someone you could give your suffering to, without worrying about theirs. Someone strong.” He watched her avert her eyes, hiding by skating kisses across the plane of his chest. He appreciated the honesty, particularly because it wasn’t the easiest thing for her.
“Ban,” Astarion admonished. It was a soft, gentle murmur, but one that told her in no uncertain terms that he wanted her full attention. He waited until she looked at him to continue. “I’d have loved to know all of you. Perhaps I would have pretended to be slightly miffed,” he joked, “to have to share your burdens, but I would have been secretly honored. Inside.”
“Deep inside,” Ban teased, poking his chest. He nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips.
Astarion’s hand resumed stroking her hair. “So. Is this drive to do the right thing the reason why you’re so keen on saving your brother from your parents?”
“Possibly. I’m not sure; it’s an urge - to at the very least know how he’s doing. And the way my parents were acting… there’s definitely something hidden there. Something rotten.”
Astarion mulled this over, silent for several moments. “We could yet pry the information from Roderich, I think. A simple yet precise application of coin, some strings tugged on and favors called…”
“I’m listening,” Ban said, her curiosity obviously piqued.
“Focus your attentions on our wedding, love,” he assured her. “Let me handle this. All you need to worry about that day is being the beautiful,” he tugged her up so that they were eye to eye, “wonderful bride that you are.”
He noticed that she shook her head almost imperceptibly. “Would you indulge me, love? Never say you’re not attractive. I won’t stand for it. Is that understood?” There was a firmness in that last question, one reminiscent of the Ascendant.
“We should admit I’m not-”
“Conventionally attractive? As if convention or the opinion of the masses ever mattered to anyone, least of all me.” He tilted her chin to face him and kissed her deeply, roughly, sucking on her bottom lip. He let his hips buck, let her feel his cock press against her belly as he gripped the back of her head to deepen the kiss. She whimpered, and he groaned in response, throaty and deep, holding nothing back.
“See?” he breathed, pulling away from the kiss. “I do think you were made to ruin me, and as much as that was a silly line at the time… I mean it.” She laughed, and he savored the sound, pecking her cheek. “Besides, the Vampire Ascendant could not have had bad taste when he chose his consort, couldn’t he?” he teased.
“Fine,” she acquiesced. “I’ll agree that at least you find me cute.”
“Far more than that, darling, but I think we can settle on cute for now. I can show you how enthralling I find you after our…” he drifted a hand down, skating over her hips, “little game…” he pressed the heel of his palm over her mound, allowing her to grind him briefly, “...is over.”
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“Scrolls, flowers, or some other design?” Ban asked, holding out the sample rings to him.
“Scrolls,” he answered, returning his focus to her.
She relayed his preference to the jeweler, turning to him once it was settled.
“You do seem to like scrollwork, considering the new mirror.” Yet another mirror, this one purchased from the master of the mirror-makers’ guild.
“It has a measure of sophistication, I suppose, one Roderich’s monstrosity rather… lacks.” He tilted his head to watch her, delighted to see her snort at his remark. It wasn’t that Roderich’s creation was horrible, he figured - but he did find it perhaps a touch ostentatious. He recalled Roderich calling the design dated and realized belatedly that the man had been right.
“It’s a lot prettier,” Ban agreed. “You’ll look wonderful reflected in it, once your suit arrives.”
His eyes crinkled in amusement. “Darling, I don’t need a mirror to know that.”
“I know,” she chuckled. “It’s still nice though, for you to be able to see yourself.”
Astarion froze for a moment, unsure what to say. Of course. “You’ll look lovely too, I’m quite certain. You already manage to enchant me every single day - no doubt you’ll be positively captivating in your dress.”
“Sure. I’ll have you show me, come the day.” She paused. “Perhaps I’ll ask Gale for a simulacrum. You could stand next to it and I could see how we both look in our finery.” She waved a hand at him, seemingly wanting to leave the conversation at that; the expression on her face, however, wasn’t hidden at all. Melancholy.
“You miss it, don’t you,” he murmured.
“I… do.” She shrugged. “But it’s not too big an issue. You can always show me what I look like, whether it be by linking minds or through your flattery.”
“Is that what I am now? Your poor husband, relegated to being a seeing glass?” He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, mimicking woefulness.
Ban laughed. “You act like looking at me is such a hard task.”
“Oh, but it is. Grueling, in fact,” he leaned in, a hand pulling her flush to his side, “it’s extremely difficult, to look at you and not touch you,” he whispered, lips hovering a hairsbreadth away from hers, “to speak words of praise and not put my mouth on you, on every inch of you, taste you.”
He chuckled, pulling away the moment she tried to go for a kiss. “I wouldn’t consider the truth to be mere flattery, my love.”
She playfully swatted at him, then squeezed his hand, a small gesture of gratefulness and understanding.
The thought, however, dwelled on his mind. It wasn’t as if he’d ever forgotten - all the commissioned art was for her to be able to see herself in some manner. He knew it wasn’t the same, but that had been the only way he’d thought of.
But the desire to give her some more permanent way to see herself, and Gale’s name, had tangled in his mind, eventually becoming the nebulous beginnings of an idea.
He followed her as she walked towards another stall, wrapping an arm around her waist. He searched for a topic to discuss, something to cheer her up.
“We’ve been invited to a party, a tenday after our wedding. The guildmaster Meiros’ daughter is to celebrate her twenty-first birthday.”
She considered this. “Meiros. You purchased the new mirror from him, yes?”
“Indeed I did. He used some newfangled method for it - apparently Barcus Wroot’s mining operation has proven more fruitful than we expected.”
“That was a good idea, suggesting Barcus go back and claim the Grymforge. Unfortunate that we didn’t introduce him to Meiros ourselves, but then again, we weren’t aiming to rub shoulders with mirror-makers then.” She inspected a silk scarf, looking thoughtful. “I was doing everything in my power to avoid approaching anything related to mirrors.”
“It makes little difference - I mentioned being well-acquainted with the gnome to Meiros. If he had his wits about him he picked up what I was alluding to.”
He groaned. “As for the party… I do so loathe that we have to go - it’s pointless mingling amongst whoever else his daughter’s invited, and I highly doubt hobnobbing with a gaggle of vapid young women is going to do us any good.”
“It’s the father you want, anyway,” Ban commented, her hands running over a selection of tanned hides, considering them for shoes for Astarion. She held one up, handing it to him to inspect. Astarion took it from her with deliberate slowness, allowing his fingers to drag across the back of her hand, pairing the caress with a dark, hungry look that made her shiver.
“Will you ever tell me what the plan is, regarding that?”
A smirk crossed his features. “As I previously mentioned, love, I will handle it while you concern yourself with the wedding planning. Don’t you trust me?” He selected the sample hide from the center of the set, a smooth calfskin.
“I do,” she answered without hesitation, “I’m merely curious.” She shot the hide he’d selected a suspicious glance. “That will scratch easily, you know. Especially in white.”
He grumbled and looked through the other samples, reconsidering. Purchasing the mirror was only the first step; a little more would be required for his plan.
“You’ll need a gift,” Ban said from beside him.
She tapped another sample. “Rothe-hide. Much tougher.”
“For the lucky debutante, you mean,” Astarion nodded.
He fingered the hide Ban pointed at, finding the texture thick but a little rough. “I can hardly imagine talking to one, let alone figuring out something one would want.”
She frowned. “A book, a satchel… a portrait. There are options.”
“Gifts,” he sighed. “Even now I can see the endless parade of them arriving at our doorstep, and I haven’t the foggiest what to do with them.”
“You say thank you, and you put them in storage.” She watched him finally settle for the rothe-hide.
“Some of them are rather useful. Halsin’s previous gift, for instance, was enlightening.”
“And in storage,” Ban reminded. She took a moment to admire the swell of his ass as he was turned away, engaged in conversation with the tanner. She moved in close, grabbing a handful before he could even notice.
Astarion yelped, then rounded on her. “Bad girl. Very, very naughty.” He set the hide sample down, slowly crowding her against the side of the stall in his sensual, predatory way. But she knew exactly what move he’d attempt and as he closed in she slipped away, laughing.
“Getting slow, old man.” She dodged yet another attempt to grab her wrist.
He stared at her for a moment, mouth agape. “Old. Old?” He clutched his chest. “You wound me so, my love.” He ambled up to her, watching her smirk widen as she held her ground. He leaned down, breath tickling her face. She could smell traces of the blood he’d had for breakfast on it. “You’ll have to take that back the moment our little game ends.”
“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows. “I highly doubt that.” Astarion knew it was a lie - the way she shifted her hips, pressing her legs together, was more than enough indication. The smile grew wider.
“Then allow me to continue teasing you,” he whispered. “Let me keep tantalizing you. If these attempts are futile, then you will have won, and I shall stop. If you lose…” he kissed her lips for a fraction of a second, “then I shall redouble my efforts and make sure you can’t think of anything else other than your dear, old, husband.”
She stifled a giggle. “You can try, Astarion. We’ll see by tonight.” She changed the topic in an attempt to hide how flustered she was, though it was futile - he could still see the faint flush on her cheeks. “I’m sure we’ll find some use for every present, whether it be collecting dust or something actually useful.”
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She was lying in bed when Astarion walked into the bedroom, a triumphant grin on his face. He was carrying a small, wooden box, rather dusty and vaguely familiar.
“Don’t bring that to bed, Astarion,” she warned. He paused, raised an eyebrow at her, and headed towards her anyways. She stood, quickly heading to the chaise.
“Really? We could have the sheets replaced. This,” he tapped the chaise as he sat, “is not so easily cleaned.”
She snorted. “Smartass.” She sat down, legs crossed, and he took the spot opposite her, box still in hand. She eyed it, trying to remember what it was.
“A gift? Or something else?”
He beamed at her, fingers unlatching the lock and lifting the lid.
Letters. From when I was in Waterdeep. She swallowed. “Where did you find this?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “I stumbled into one of our storage rooms the other day and had a quick rummage.”
She eyed him carefully. “Part of… whatever plans you have for my father?”
“Perhaps.” He pushed the box towards her, eyes glinting with excitement.
“Astarion…” she hesitated, looking at the papers within. Did they really want to bring this up, that painful time apart? “Does this not…” she trailed off. Hurt you?
He sensed her question and the smile fell, replaced by a somber, if earnest, expression. He picked up some of the letters. “It should. I recall writing them, knowing it was a meager gesture, but they were the only way I could reach you then.” He bit his lip, considering his words as he unfolded one.
“You kept them. All of them.” He looked at her, eyes wide. “You arranged them according to when they arrived, saved them all in this box, and…” he smiled again, eyes crinkling, “you drafted answers on the backs.”
“I… did,” she nodded, picking one from the pile and turning it over. There it was, in her own neat, if rather childlike, handwriting. Big, circular letters that spelled out her feelings. That she did miss him, missed him so much it hurt, so much she could barely sleep. That she wanted him back, if only he’d try harder, meet her halfway. She sighed.
Astarion watched her every move. His hand gripped her knee. “You never told me any of this. Never… let me know you were miserable too, that you longed for me just as much as I did you.”
“I know. I’m sorry… you know why. I couldn’t, back then. Refused to show you anything resembling weakness.”
He nodded, taking the letter from her and reverently placed it back in the box. He closed it and put it down on the floor. The moment he straightened up she spread her arms, beckoning him to her. He tilted his head, a grin settling over his features when he realized what she was asking for. He obliged, settling into her embrace as she reclined, his head pillowed against her breasts, one of his legs slung over one of hers.
He took a small breath. “There is a silver lining to seeing those letters, I suppose.” She guessed that was why he seemed happy about finding them. She waited for him to continue.
“They tell me you cared. Even in the depths of our despair you yearned for me as well. Your heart reached for me, as mine reached for you,” he murmured into her skin. “You simply could not allow yourself to tell me. You were… hiding, just as I was.”
Her fingers tightened where they had settled in his curls, kneading the back of his head in a massage. He exhaled, breath hot against her skin. “Again, Astarion, I really am sor-”
A hand reached up, palm covering her mouth. He shook his head at her. “Enough. I choose to take what I unearthed as something… positive. Don’t ruin it.” He leaned up and his thigh pushed up against her mound, delightfully arousing in its simplicity. She swallowed heavily.
“You were hiding… and that is fine,” he whispered, leaning forwards to aim his words into her ear. “So was I. But that was then,” he ground his hips, rubbing his cock against her leg, pushing his thigh more firmly against her rapidly-dampening core. “And this is now.”
He didn’t remove his hand from her mouth, and when she tried to speak again he shushed her. “No more words from those pretty lips, my love. I don't want to hear you beg to touch me, because I have no intention of allowing it. There is no need to waste your breath.”
Astarion was merely tormenting them both, she assumed. He moaned as he rubbed himself on her thigh, smirking when her eyes widened at the sound.
He had been teasing her constantly all month. Light, deft touches, his fingertips ghosting over sensitive spots, speaking a little too close to her ear, sometimes breathy, sometimes growling. She’d loved it, even as her body had begged to be touched and taken each time.
He'd also gotten into the annoying habit of grinding into her ass when they spooned before bed. He’d do it once, twice, sometimes several times, then pull away, smirking all the while. He especially liked it when he managed to elicit a needy moan from her, and try as she might to keep them in - not wanting to give him the satisfaction - she almost always failed.
Oh, she knew he was suffering as well. She could feel the insistent, likely painful, throb of his cock every time he pressed against her, the heat of him even more than usual - almost fiery. She imagined that were she to wrap her hand around him, she'd merely have to stroke once and he’d come undone. One quick pass, one swipe of her thumb on his slit, or perhaps one lick against the underside of his cockhead, and-
“Ban.” He gasped her name against the shell of her ear. She blinked.
“Are you with me?” Astarion’s face changed from seductive to concerned. He lifted his hand from her mouth, easing his body off of hers. She paused, realizing this could be an opportunity to give him a little taste of his own medicine. Bracing herself, she grabbed his waist and twisted, aiming to pin him under her. She saw his eyes widen in surprise, and knew she had won.
…but not quite. She had him under her, but his hand was firmly around her neck.
Astarion laughed, tickled by her attempt. “Good try.”
“Had I twisted the other way,” Ban nodded towards the fireplace in front of them, “I could have rolled us off the chaise and onto the carpet, grabbed the poker, and staked you.” She simpered. “I win.”
“And I could have broken your neck whilst you were debating on which way to roll,” he countered, hand squeezing for a fraction of a second. “Strong as you are, my dear,” the fingers on her neck danced, tapping against her skin in a pattern only he knew, “dexterous hands are far likelier to succeed.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he swallowed her words with a fierce kiss. She fought the urge to grind against the thigh between her legs, failing miserably. The hand on her neck somehow managed to convey aggression and tenderness at the same time - something in the way his fingertips stroked her neck with such exquisite gentleness while his palm remained firm and controlled her movement - and she loved it. His breath was hot against her skin, his body deliciously warm beneath her. It was all she could do not to beg for more.
He parted from the kiss to let out a shuddery breath. “Gods,” he moaned in a whisper, “wouldn’t it be exquisite to have me inside you?” His hand roamed down her back to her ass, pressing down so she sat on his cock. “If I was sheathed inside you, my love… losing myself in you…” he purred, his hips rolling to accentuate his words. “Fingers dancing where you need them most... Lips… crying out for you.” He finished his little spiel with the smuggest of grins, knowing he had her - she was hopelessly wet and needy.
Ban exhaled, squeezing her eyes shut, then shifted off him. “You win,” she said meekly. “I cannot contest any of that.”
Astarion smirked, sitting up. She caught a quick glimpse of his cock straining against his pants before he crossed his legs; that made her smile. “At least I’m not the only one.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “As frustrating as it is, I promise you. It will be worth it.”
“I know.” Her eyes softened. “I know it’s important to you, and that’s all I need to make it worth suffering for.”
He snorted. “It’s hardly suffering-” he cut off as she rolled her eyes, holding his hands up. “Alright. It is torture. Still, a little exercise in patience never hurt anyone. Besides, it was your idea to make it the whole month, rather than merely a tenday.” She sat on the floor in front of the chaise; he leaned over to kiss the top of her head.
“I do thank you for indulging me, however. It means more than you know. Little remains of who I was before my life was taken from me. I am glad to have some small part of it returned to me, even if it is for something as admittedly silly as this.”
"I wouldn't say silly." She mused, her voice thoughtful. "It's part of your heritage, and my heart does not mind it in the slightest, even if other parts of me do." She smiled, leaning her head back against the plush cushion. Her eyes shut, and she felt his fingers ruffle her hair.
There were more plans to make, and their lives would inevitably be even busier as the wedding approached, so for now she savored the silence, indulging in the quiet companionship.
She felt him touch her mind as he laid on the chaise, his hand still on her head.
It was in these little moments, these little snippets of eternity - where she felt most at home.
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isa-ghost · 7 months ago
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qPhil & Other Egg Headcanons
Happy birthday original eggos 😭💚🎉
Note: Although I made these bc the og eggs are birth today, I've done at least one hc for each egg! They're a bit limited bc they're based off what I've seen through 3 POVs + osmosis through liveblog, but I included them all nonetheless. :D
qPhil headcanons masterlist
He thinks Leo has so much fucking swag. How does a literal egg look so fucking cool like at all times. How does she do it.
Secretly admires the shit out of Dapper. He's fucking brilliant. Hilariously unhinged. Insanely devoted to his collection habits. Adorably takes after Bad in looks and silliness. He's just such a badass little guy.
Pomme his fucking beloved. Brilliant just like her siblings, insanely perceptive, tough as nails yet still soft as flower pedals. He sees huge survivalist potential in her. He wishes she could shed some of the stress she's always seems to be under. He relates to her a bit too much sometimes. He hopes that poor girl gets a break.
He's absolutely gutted he didn't get to know Trump like at all. He saw little to nothing of him. He hopes he's at peace with Maxo.
GOD he wish he got more time with Flippa. She took him out like it was nothing. He would've loved training her alongside her parents. He bets she would've been an awesome pvper one day.
He wishes he could've seen more of Tilin. He was more familiar with her than he was Trump but still not enough.
Richarlyson makes it so hard not to pick "favorite eggs" besides his own. Richas is always on some wild ass shit, Phil fucking loves it. That kid's just high on life at like all times. Unreasonably funny on top of it all. God does Phil worry about him though, he's gotten way too into risking his life for the lulz.
Ramon practically feels like a third child to him (sometimes). Much like Dapper, he loves how brilliant he is and how cracked at his craft he is.
Bobby's death absolutely devastated him. He loved that little shit. And he loved how happy he made Roier and Jaiden. Seeing how severely his death broke them made his heart ache. He had nightmares about going through the same thing.
He's DETERMINED to get to know Chunsik further. Timezones are a bitch though. :( But he will be damned if something happens before he can get more familiar.
Empanada is unreasonably cute to him, and he loves seeing her take more and more after Bagi every time he sees her once more. He absolutely loves how close she and all her moms are. He genuinely fears the Pancake Mafia tbh, and he's convinced Empanada is the head.
He adores Sunny. She knows what she wants. They're not afraid to speak their mind as long as they're comfortable. She's silly and playful and sweet. Yet they still have this small, but palpable cool edge to them. Truly one spunky little girl. 😎
Phil is like 90% sure Pepito is just always going thru it, but has a sneaking suspicion that's just how Pepito seems at first glance, and maybe thats just what Pepito WANTS people to think. Either way, Pepito is just such a Creacher and Phil loves it. An absolutely loveable little guy.
He on/off considers commissioning Ramon or Dapper to make bombs to go fuck up a Fed building. He'd let them join him tbh.
He's so insanely afraid of accidentally hurting the eggs, but he'd love to spar with them and teach them more pvp skills so they'd be even better at defending themselves. He's only comfortable doing so with his own eggs.
God, he wants more times where ALL the eggs are together. He loves watching them interact, he loves their dynamics with each other and the chaos that unfolds when they're all in one place.
Phil: I don't want to build things bc technically that's doing the Feds a favor by making the island cooler. So fuck them. // Also Phil: *would build an entire city for these goddamn eggs if it meant they were safe and happy*
Watching the eggs all just talk and be silly together is literally Phil's favorite thing about their existence. Just watching them silently communicate in their Egg Ways, slapping down signs and punching each other. There's something so special and funny about their nonverbal communication.
He will NEVER be able to look at certain objects or accessories without thinking of the kids now.
He secretly has doodles of what he thinks each kid would look like if they hatched into dragons.
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