#Amon writes

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

✧₊⁺ This Was Not In The Codex ✧₊⁺

Pairing: demetrian titus x reader(f)

Summary: Titus is on a much-needed leave on Macragge. While there he runs into you, or rather you run into him escaping terrible punishment for being unable to tell a lord no.

Part 1/?

Arthur's Note: I am terrible at keeping POV when writing in the third person and try to do omniscient, but again I am no real writer.

Warnings: Pregnancy (reader is pregnant), mentions of SA, and general gimdarkness.

18+ Minors DNI

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

There were several reasons Titus was planet side, from a wound he sustained that required more rest than normal, and Calgar seemed all too aware that with everything that had happened, there was still lingering broken trust among his brothers. Moving Leandros to Chaplin was a means of stopping the boy from doing more harm, but it wasn't a move Calgar hadn't been overly pleased with.

But Titus seemed to understand the will of their Gene-sire better than most, and his humanity despite it all remained intact. Something Guilliman wanted to make sure was nurtured.

Titus lumbered through the streets, drawing eyes as he did. Even within the great Macragge people were still awe-struck to see an Astartes. It was odd the monotonous sounds of everyday life felt more overwhelming than the loud cacophony of war. Though the smells were much more desirable. Scents of smoked meat were pulling the large man along when his ears picked up commotion and then something small bumped into him.

Oh the pitiful creature that had run into him. You looked worn beyond your years, weak from malnourishment and shaking like a leaf in the wind looking up and seeing what you ran into. Your lips busted and scabbed over from dry blood. Your feet are torn and broken apart from no proper footwear.

The thin rag you call a dress barely hides your bump. Your hands instinctively wrapped around it, as if you could protect your unborn child from such a giant. A smell rose into his nose as he heart the faint trickling of liquid. You were so terrified you were urinating yourself. Titus had seen this fear in warzones. What in the Throne had you so scared. His size aside.

Titus could see law enforcement coming up, chasing her. But they weren't local militia, these were private. His mind reeled all the practicals and theoreticals there could be to this situation.

"Can you get behind me, please? Are you able to move?" he asked quietly, as gently as he could, though with some urgency.

You nodded weakly and moved behind him, his massive body hiding you.

The guards stop short of Titus gazing upon the Asartes. His aura gave them great pause, mostly seeing how you were hugging one of his large legs.

"I see you are one of the Emperor's angels. Lord, she is a wanted criminal, and have been tasked to bring her back to our lord's estate." one guard finally spoke, but there was a shakiness to his voice.

"Wanted? On what charges, and why back there and not turned over to proper authorities?" Titus pressed. The rough timber of his voice becoming more pressing against the guards.

The guard looked uneasy and agitated, going between the two emotions rapidly, "This matter is hardly of note for one such of you My Lord, please, let us take her."

Titus shook his head, "No. You have not answered my questions. What is her crime and why is she to be taken to your lord?”

“Is not enough that she is a serf who has abandoned her duties?” the main guard responded, “She is to be taken home and punished. On top of that she is to be questioned by the Inquisition for heresy for seducing our lord with foul magic.”

Titus choked down a snarl at the mention of the Inquisition. Of course, a group of religious zealots could be tricked into seeing a poor serf as a heretic, so a piss poor excuse of a lord could get rid of his dirty laundry.

Perhaps his primarch was right and this Imperium was a rotting corpse.

“Then this is cause for my concern. I will take her into custody and our librarian will see to her.”

You start to plead and move away, as vain as you know it to be, but a large hand stops you. Holds you in place. It is firm, but not harsh.

The guard tried once again to argue but Titus cut him off, this time not holding back so much on his voice's power, “Are you challenging a member of the Astartes guard? I am not beholden to you, and she is in my charge now, so she is no longer either. Tell your lord if he so wishes to continue this nonsense he can do so with me. Now leave unless you wish a more physical understanding of my words.”

The warning was understood and the men scattered, and after a moment the crowd that had gathered went about their daily lives. Sounds of a busy community returned.

Titus turned to you, his hand still upon you. He knelled so he might be close to your eyes, “Hello, Little One. I am Lieutenant Titus, of the Ultra Marines. Would you allow me to carry you back to our fortress? You are safe. I give you my word.”

What choice did you have? None really. He could crush you with no effort, and you were dead anyhow. You just hoped when he decided to end you, it would be quick, and he would spare your baby.

You nodded, but sob quietly, “My Lord...I...” you were ashamed, “I soiled myself, I would not want that on you.”

Titus smiled, “Hush now,” he spoke cradling you in one arm and standing, “Far worse has been on me. There is no shame. I will see you get some clean clothes, food in your belly, and a Medicae Mortus to see to you.”

A soft chuckled rose from him, it was unnerving, yet comforting. This angel, was being so kind to an undeserving serf like you.

“Our Apothecaries are not specialized in baseline human needs. I am not even sure they know how babies are made, or how they grow inside you. But ask them about how to deal with a wound from a spawn of the warp? Collect gene-seed? Well then they don't shut up.”

You looked up at him with some confusion, “you do not know where babies come from?”

Titus felt warm suddenly, and adverted his gaze, “I mean. Well. It was not something they deemed important for us to know.”

You could only hum a response. Resting in his powerful harm. Held so delicately and carefully. It was dangerous. You knew this, but it was still the safest you felt in months and your worn body, gave out and forced you into a sleep that was deeply needed.

[mookmayor]

something something content that caters specifically to myself

[thehypnone]

Symbol on the Surface Chapter 20

WC: 800

Relationship: SwissAlps & the kits

Tags: Transmasc Swiss, 99% Fluff

They close their eyes only after sparing a minute to look at their sleeping kits—the most beautiful babies in the whole universe, if you ask either of them.

Notes: This chapter is short because the exam session at uni is absolutely killing me. That's also why there won't be a chapter next week, but I will do my best to get one out in two weeks, and then continue like normal.

Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 20 under the cut or on AO3.

After having had the kits grow inside him for seven months, Swiss finds himself uneasy.

Yes, he’s very glad they have been born and are now out and healthy, but since the very idea of their existence has sparked, they’ve been right under his heart. And now?

Now he simply can’t get them close enough.

Both Swiss and Mountain are quite exhausted—as new parents always are—but while the former absolutely crashes at night, the latter stays somewhat alert. That is why one quiet squeak of discomfort is more than enough to wake the earth ghoul up.

Mountain sits up and looks down between himself and his mate to where the kits are. What he notices, though, is Swiss on his side, but leaning over the kits—slightly pressing them into the mattress with his chest.

The squeak must’ve come from Arya, but apart from that the kits aren’t showing any signs of distress. He’s not crushing them, but still, Mountain decides to wake Swiss up, lest he falls further onto them in his sleep and starts actually doing so.

“Swiss? Wake up, darling,” he whispers into the multi ghoul’s ear before giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Hmpf…wha’s wrong?” Swiss mumbles.

“Nothing’s wrong, sorry to wake you,” Mountain calms him right away, but then elaborates, “but you’re squishing our kits a little.”

Once Mountain’s words and the feeling of the kits under him register, Swiss pulls back as if he got burned, his scent immediately turning sour from anxiety.

“No way, I–I’m…I’m a horrible dad, why did–”

“Hey, hey, no,” the earth ghoul stops him before he can start fully spiralling. “Look at them, Swiss.”

The multi ghoul blinks slowly and obliges, looking down.

All three are asleep; Amon and Aelin purring, while Arya is looking only mildly disgruntled. Her little face relaxes once Swiss pulls back, though, and she kicks up a tiny purr of her own soon enough and carries on sleeping.

“Are they crying? Do they look uncomfortable? In pain?” Mountain prompts.

“No…” his mate admits, calmer already.

“They were cozy under you!” the earth ghoul quietly chuckles. “You didn’t hurt them, my heart, and I am absolutely sure you never once will.”

Swiss sighs, nodding. Mountain’s right, of course, but he really is just a ball of anxiety nowadays. The multi ghoul leans over the kits and faceplants into Mountain’s chest, nuzzling into him as his mate chuckles and brings his arms around him.

“It’s alright, my heart,” he assures and comforts him, starting to purr quietly.

“I know, it’s just…scary. They’re so small.”

Mountain hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t reply. The same thoughts and anxieties have been plaguing him; but now is not the time for a therapy session between them.

“Let’s go back to sleep,” he says instead and Swiss nods against him before pulling back. They close their eyes only after sparing a minute to look at their sleeping kits—the most beautiful babies in the whole universe, if you ask either of them.

In the morning Mountain gets a text from Omega, asking if they’d be alright to have him come over and check up on the kits—they’re a week old now, after all. Neither Swiss nor Mountain particularly like the idea of anyone touching their babies just yet, but they trust Omega and know a check up is a wise idea, so they agree. He comes over around noon and tells the parents that a quick quintessence scan and a lookover will be more than enough, so he doesn’t even have to touch them.

“All good and healthy. You’ve made some adorable looking kits,” Omega praises when he’s done, smiling down at the babies. Aelin lets out a squeak at the compliment, as if agreeing, “and adorable sounding.”

“You should hear them purr,” Swiss giggles and wiggles his eyebrows.

The quintessence ghoul turns to him with disbelief in his eyes. “They’ve purred already?”

“Yes, their second day,” Mountain replies. “Is that not normal?”

“Kits don’t usually start purring so early,” Omega starts, his smile only growing, “the typical age for that is three weeks, sometimes later. Do you want to know why they start early sometimes?”

Swiss and Mountain nod simultaneously.

“Because they feel incredibly safe and are trying to communicate that in the only way their little brains know.”

Swiss and Mountain tear up and start grinning simultaneously.

Taglist: @arkeusruin @skele-bunny @everybodyshusband @ratsummer @jazz-bazz @mac-and-thefox @karmicbias @wine-irytatus @ghoultrifle (if anyone from here wants to be removed lmk, and also if anyone else wants to be added)

[spotofmummery]

The first of what I call Tad Tales - a short chapter about Tad discovering soul stones and stumbling right into one of Amon's plans for self-betterment. Also touches on Tad's insecurity as a fledgling WoL and how he took up Red Magery!

---

Excerpt:

“Tad,” Amon said, his voice suddenly gentle and quiet. One hand reached out to grip his cousin’s shoulder supportively. “What are you afraid of?”

Myself…

The though rippled across Tad’s mind, though it went unvoiced.

Something within the other Elezen’s golden-eyed gaze told Tad that he didn’t need to speak his thoughts. Amon somehow already knew the answer – be it just the Technologist’s keen intuition or something to do with his aetheric vision. Either way, he knew without confirmation.

“How long are you going to let that hold you back?” came the follow-up question.

“I’m… I’m fine,” Tad wanted to pull away from that half-supportive half-manipulative hand on his shoulder, even as the half-fib passed his lips.

---

-Click to read chapter here!-

[2af-afterdark]

A Place to Rest Your Weary Head

Fandom: What in Hell is Bad? Content: Amon x Bael, Nipple Play, Inverted Nipples (Bael), Mild Angst, Light Smut A/N: Stole the divider from @flys-domain You ever start writing something thinking that it’s going to be filthy smut, but then it turns into angst and hurts you for daring to think you could make something sexy? Yeah… Summary: Amon plays with Bael’s nipples. Word Count: 843

Four establishments were asking for assistance to keep their doors open, two were looking for mediation after one accused the other of theft, and seven had sent large bills on behalf of Beelzebub. Bael could feel a headache taking root in his brain. That damned Beelzebub was causing more issues than he could deal with.

And he couldn’t concentrate on any of it because of Amon.

“If you're going to sleep, go somewhere else.” His voice said in tune to the scratching of his pen as he signed that he would not be providing aid to the first establishment; nightclubs were commonplace in Abyssos, after all. One closing down wouldn't be noticed.

Amon only grumbled as he laid his head against Bael's back. “You're sitting on me, your fake majesty. I can't move.”

His arms wrapped around Bael like he was a large plushie, lying restlessly against and kneading his chest while half unconscious.

“I had no choice. You refused to move out of my seat-”

“It's Lord Beelzebub's seat,” Amon corrected, still in a daze.

“You refused to move out of the seat and I had work to do.”

Amon's hands traced over the thin material of Bael's uniform, nails digging and tearing until tiny holes began to form against Bael's chest.

“You're more comfortable than a blanket,” Amon claimed as he fingered at the holes he had made to rip them open even more.

Bael seemed unperturbed by Amon's antics. He was too lost in trying to figure out how he would balance the kingdom's budget after Beelzebub's latest spending spree.

Amon merely tugged at the loose ends of the holes he'd formed in Bael's uniform until they met, creating one large tear that exposed the expanse of his chest. He couldn't see what he had managed to reveal, but he knew Bael's chest well enough to explore it without sight and while mostly asleep.

Beneath the pads of his fingers, Amon could feel Bael's naturally puffy and swollen chest, which hid what he was seeking. Collapsed inward, he began to poke at the spot where Bael's inverted nipples should be. He pinched and rolled Bael's chest in his hands, feeling where his nipples were hidden away.

Despite his efforts to ignore Amon's half-dazed antics, Bael began to subtly shake in his lap, revealing how affected he was.

Amon doubled his efforts, now more awake than he had been when he started. His fingers gently worked their way into the small cavity where they hid, eventually rubbing against the little nubs that were still surrounded by fat and flesh. His fingers pushed against them, made them swell with longing, desire, and blood; made them harden.

Amon hooked his fingers against them, and finally forced them to come out into the open.

“Your nipples came out, your not-royal not-highness,” Amon said matter-of-factly as his fingers prodded at Bael's freshly exposed nipples.

“Leave them alone,” Bael said.

“But,” Amon began, “you're the one humping me.”

Just as he claimed, Bael had been subconsciously rubbing himself against Amon's thigh since Amon began to play with his chest.

“Stop anyway. You're distracting me and I have more to do after this.”

He didn't stop. Instead, Amon flicked at his nipples, tormenting the sensitive buds that so rarely saw fresh air.

Bael inhaled sharply as he doubled over against the desk, trying and failing to pull away from Amon's fingers which were now clamped onto him and massaging away the sting that he had just inflicted.

“I told you to stop,” Bael gasped between heavy breaths.

Amon didn't respond, only continuing what he had already been doing.

Bael squirmed in his seat, unable to stay focused on his administrative duties with Amon tormenting him. As he moved, his body rubbed against Amon's. Not only did it feel like his nipples were being tortured, but he could feel a tingling in his groin as well.

And Bael could feel that the same thing was happening to Amon beneath him.

“Look at me,” Amon said, nary a hint of exhaustion still left in his voice.

Bael didn't turn his gaze. He only continued to spasm in Amon's lap.

Amon released his hold on one of Bael's nipples only long enough to grab his face and force him to look into his eyes.

“I want to see you, your fake majesty,” Amon said as if it was the most natural statement.

Bael's eyes had gone cross – so easily overwhelmed by pleasure after so long – but they still held a hint of rationality in them.

He shook his head. “I can't. Please stop.”

Amon looked at him with an impassioned face, but the corners of his mouth were turned slightly downward. 

Then, he slid his arms downward to wrap around Bael's waist and leaned his head against his back.

“Tired. Hungry. Don't make me move.” A groggy tone returned to Amon's voice as he closed his eyes.

Bael said nothing at the warm pressure of Amon against his backside as he returned to doing the king's job in Beelzebub's place.

[mimble-sparklepudding]

13. Butte

On my island, way up in the sky,

Is a hilltop that's terribly high,

If you're awfully astute,

You'll know I love a big butte,

And it's something about which I can't lie.

Ffxivwrite2024 has risen to new levels of silliness...

(Also I was surprised that butte rhymes with flute, rather than shut, but it's just as well I checked. And apologies to @spotofmummery whose screenshot I borrowed to illustrate the island hilltop - it was what came up when I googled "FFXIV Island hilltop", which just goes to show how famous Amon is!)

[jessamine-rose]

⋆˚*♱ Vivamus, Moriendum Est ♱*˚⋆

“Let us live, since we must die.”

♡ Jessamine’s What in Hell is Bad? masterlist

♡ Heartbeat - Sub! Sitri x Reader + extra

♡ Dance with the Devil - nsfw hcs for Sitri, Leviathan, Astaroth, Glasyalabolas, Paimon, Amon, Marbas, Gabriel, Minhyeok

♡ Sunt Lacrimae Rerum - a gift for Lucifer

♡ Forbidden Fruit - nsfw hcs for Bathin, Satan, Marbas, Barbatos, Naberius, Zagan, Astaroth

♡ Venus Callipyge - Mammon’s favorite statue

♡ Leviathan is sick of Mammon + Satan’s kinks

♡ Taking out your sadism on Satan

♡ L-card series I’d like to see ft. pegging

[gallifreyshawkeye]

Writer's Guild Presents: Reclaimed, Ch. 29 - Message In A Light Orb

Reclaimed, Ch. 29: Message In A Light Orb  CW/TW/Rating: M, no warnings for this chapter except dialogue references to past physical violence. Overall fic warning: Graphic violence

Summary: Crowley remembers who Cassiel is. And between Cassiel, and Amon through Lucifer's memories, an almost complete picture of the whys and wherefores of nearly everything involving God, the Rebellion, the Metatron, the Fall, and...well...everything, is finally able to be pieced together. A picture that prompts Crowley to perform Creation in the form of a message to send to God.

And Crowley and Aziraphale finally get a chance to talk properly about things......

Excerpt: “Yes, because, here’s the thing,” Cassiel said, leaning forward, and smoothly taking over, “you and him, were supposed to get to ask God Herself your questions. You were supposed to question the apparent cruelty, and meaninglessness of getting rid of a creation that was only six thousand years old. That was the correct answer to the test… to the Game." Read more on AO3

Graphic done by me @goodomensafterdark

[bannock-freak]

im almsot 30 pages into the karaoke fic and we havent even gotten to the singing yet why do i do this to myself

[sunshine-and-her-ikevil-stuff]

Me: *vibrating while smiling* Y-you know... since this kinktober is for least popular Ikemen characters,

and Levie never even got added to an election, so that means he's really unpopular so he fits the requirement.

And-and-and he has a sprite and they definitely planned for him to have a route-

Logical me: You do realize that by this logic you have to include Amon too

Me: Noooooooo :(

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Secret Box

Sorry no fancy formatting or anything here. I got sudden inspired to write this from an anon @moodymisty got Tagging @kit-williams because I know Mr. Turbo is her man Warnings: Hints of NSFW stuff at the very end. Sorry if Turbo sounds ooc I haven't written him at all before so be kind. Also, did not proofread this. MINOR DNI

"Oh I don't know, I would be unhappy too if all I had to was tear things down and war. Maybe he wants to something else?"

"What do you mean? He seems quite happy breaking things."

He watched you frown so deeply, "My little bother was like that, everyone thought he like being mad. Just did not know how to convey his feelings, and felt like he had to stay under father's thumb. But he really just wanted to be an artist. I loved his art!"

"I didn't know you had a brother, where is he?"

"Dead. Died angry and lonely because father wanted a soldier."

His furious hearts stopped in his chest. You saw him. You did not realize it, but you did. It scared him, mad him want to rage and break you. It made him want to keep you close. Show you those things he wanted to forget.

***

"What in the Emperor's name is that?"

"Oh one of those puzzle boxes, some call them secret boxes because once you open them you can keep little important secrets in them!" your smile makes his head spin and his stomach lurch.

He wanted you to smile at him like that more. He needed you to talk to him about the silly little boxes.

"Why do you have so many? They seem pointless, we do not have anything to keep in them."

"Oh, I am far too stupid to open them, but I find them beautiful, each one looks different, opens differently, and all so complex, like people!"

***

Weeks he slaved over his workbench, keeping this secret to all, which was made easy when got the small chance to engage with you. Or most commonly, watch you interact with others, needed to make sure you didn't give his secrets away; at least he tried to convince himself of that.

You thought yourself stupid, but you figured him out in a way not even the damn Emperor himself could. What looked so simple was perhaps the most complex of all.

You wanted to see the art he could create that wasn't for war, how his mind could do if allowed to run free. Called his work art, like it was something to also marvel at.

The primarch looked over his newest creation, the small box was intricate in it's design, how he liked things. But it was what was inside that made his chest feel weak, and yet made him powerful all the same. The primarch of iron was feeling himself soften at the heat that had made a permanent home in his lower abdomen.

When he presented the box to you he did not say he made it, refused to. But as he explained his lie, the look you cast at him shocked him. You knew his bluff. Of course you did.

"Well, whoever made this is a true master! I have never seen something to beautiful before, thank you my lord," you smile up at him, letting him keep his pride and secret, "I know you are a busy man, but should you remember who made this could you be so kind to your serf and tell me?"

Prutabo grunted and nodded, "If I feel so inclined. Let me know if and when you open it."

***

Days and weeks pass and you keep him updated with your progress, he makes comments that hint he isn't too interested, after all someone of his genius would have opened it already. You agree, but you won't give up. You determination makes his hearts feel like they are in knots. How happy and joyful you are over his little toy. The fun you find in testing yourself only just to say you did it. The moments of you updating him live inside his dreams, where he is brave enough to hold your hand and smile back.

The crusade had called him away and like always it kept him longer than anyone else. While his brothers got to reap all the glory he was cleanup, or the brunt hammer to break wills. So of course when the Lord of Iron returned everyone scattered. Hid like cowards.

Not you. Even with him exuding even more of his dour demeanor you came running up to him. Puzzle box in hand.

"My Lord! I know you just returned, but I have been waiting for teran weeks for you to return." you were overflowing with excitement; practically vibrating with it.

It was like a disease that spread quickly, because as you spoke his ire cooled. You were happy he was home.

"Make it quick." though he hoped you took as long as you wanted.

"I am about to open the box, and I wanted to open it with you!" you grin up at him coming closer, "Exciting right?"

You...waited for him. Wanted to share in his happiness with...Throne he thought he was going to burst out of his armor and into flames.

"For someone who cannot easily solve things, I suppose. Well, open it." he grumbled, fighting to keep his mask on.

As you moved the last piece into place and opened the lid, a centerpiece rose up, and thereupon it was a metal sculpting of morning glories rising up and in bloom, the spun slowly as music played. And resting inside the main flower was a small ring, designed to look like vines holding a blooming rose the held a pink diamond.

Oh the look upon your face he would have waited lifetimes just to see it. It made this little box the greatest thing he would ever fashion.

"My Lord...I...forgive me, my words are failing." you whisper still marveling at the spinning flowers, "I love morning glories..."

Perturabo nodded, "I am aware. I do listen..." he wanted to know about the ring, wanted you to wear it.

Let everyone know you were his. That you wanted to be his.

Tears well up in your eyes as you so gingerly take the ring. Without needing to ask he gently holds the box so you might place it upon one of your fingers. He watches intently as you try various fingers before putting it upon your ring finger.

"My..."

"Perturabo. You can call me by my name...should you wish to continue to wear that ring." he spoke so very softly for himself.

Thorne, he needed you to keep it on.

"I will, Perturabo," you say his name to see how it rolls off your tongue and it sounds like heaven to him.

When this crusade is over he will fill this place with sounds of your and his children, and he will cast off all this cold machinery for things that truly mattered to him. Being a toy maker in one's spare time wasn't such a foolish notion. He would not die like your brother, and leave you alone.

"Are you sure you want...I mean... I am a serf, people will talk and I do not want to tarnish your name." you whisper to him, eyes fixed on the ring.

"They would be foolish to speak of it where I can hear." was all he offered.

Your small hands slip over his covered in his massive gauntlets, and he was trembling to get this armor off.

"My Lady, if it pleases you," his voice low and he leaned in close so no other could hear, "I wish to remove this armor, if you would wait for me in my chambers..." he couldn't believe he was doing this! Smoothness and words were not his strong points, but for you, he would try, "There is a puzzle I would like to get to know intimately, work with my hands, would you be willing?"

His face burned as he waited what felt like eons for you to reply. Was this all too much too fast? Was he being a fool?

You take the music puzzle box from him and when you pull back you are smiling with cheeks as flushed as his, "I would love that. Now go before your men see you this shade of red and not yelling. I do not want to ruin your reputation." you tease

Perturabo smiled, "You, I will allow to ruin me." he said before tearing off to get this damn armor off.

[kiwicopia]

hiii i wanted to do the hybrid au event for what in hell is bad amon

probably an easier to care for animal and smut with masc reader

for personality calm, kinda reclusive, easily distracted, affectionate with people im comfortable with, and i have a big soft spot for animals

TW: Leopard Gecko!Amon, harmatophilia, chirping, tongue flicking/licking, love bites, reach-a-round, forced heat, precum as lube, cum eating.

Amon loved it when you couldn't do anything right. Accidentally breaking the dishes while washing and putting them away? Witnessing it got him hard instantly, and it quickly led to this moment. With you bent over the counter, his hips rutted against yours, his cock twitching at the sound of your breathy moans. Just the simple act of not being able to correctly wash and put away dishes forced his rut, but neither of you minded.

The hybrid chirped in your ear; the sound was low as he let his tongue flick out against the shell of it, causing your body to shudder. Amon was too pent up this time around, having wasted no time in easing himself into your puckered hole. His tail flicked about as he let out another chirp, and his teeth grazed your neck, soon biting down when he bottomed out.

With one hand gripping your hip, claws digging into the flesh a little, his other reached around, taking hold of your cock and giving it a few quick strokes as his hips rammed against you. His balls slammed against the curve of your ass, and Amon let out a choked growl upon feeling your precum slip out and down to his hand. The hybrid used it as lube, his hand movements quickening the more his cock drilled into your ass.

"Can I cum?" He asked, his voice a breathy whisper as his tongue licked the shell of your ear yet again. Amon always asked permission. Despite the one fucking you, he needed your permission. You owned him, after all. With a slow nod and garbled moan, he immediately busted, spilling himself inside of you with a soft hiss. His rutting continued, as did him stroking your cock. He wasn't going to leave his sweet owner hanging. A clawed thumb roved over the slit of your bulbous head, drawing a deliciously pathetic moan from your lips. "Please," he whispered.

A few more strokes, coupled with his slow thrusts, finally brought you over the edge. Amon felt your body clench, your balls tightening as you spilled all over his hand, and he let out a low chirp before bringing his hand to his mouth. The hybrid's tongue slowly lapped up your essence, relishing in the taste.

He always found you delicious. His little owner. All his.

[thehypnone]

Symbol on the Surface Chapter 24

WC: 1,7k

Relationship: SwissAlps & the kits

Tags: Domestic Fluff, Milestones; First Steps and Words (They're growing up so fast guys T-T)

Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 24 under the cut or on AO3.

Since the kits have become more mobile, their dads are reluctant to let them crawl all over the bed in fear of them falling off it—hence Swiss, Mountain, Amon, Aelin, and Arya are having floor time. All five of them actually prefer the floor; especially with a bunch of soft blankets and their bunnies around. Except…

“Ow, you little demons!” Mountain exclaims through giggles as his breath is once again punched out of him. Or rather poked out of him with Arya and Amon’s knees and elbows. Next to them, Swiss is wheezing with laughter as Aelin crawls all over him; also stabbing him with her bony limbs. And smacking him in the face with her tail while she’s at it.

It’s bordering on physical abuse, but also fun—the kits are not that heavy yet. Neither Swiss nor Mountain know what’s so fun in crawling all over them with no apparent purpose, but their children seem to be enjoying themselves; that’s all that matters.

At some point Aelin tumbles off of Swiss’ stomach and lands on her feet. She and Arya have already stood up in their crib, so that isn’t particularly surprising, but what is, is that the water ghoulette completely casually walks over to Mountain.

Both her dads are too stunned with how unbothered she is by her achievement—she just flops onto the earth ghoul and carries on her fun. 

“You sure she isn’t Rain’s?” Mountain asks before bursting out laughing when Arya shoves a hand into Swiss’ mouth—open wide in shock.

Exactly a week after Aelin’s first steps, Arya is feeling the peer pressure.

Not actually, but it’s a little funny that she hadn’t shown any interest in walking until Aelin had reached that milestone. Now, the multi ghoulette tries to stand up and walk a few times a day.

It’s not going too well for her at first, but she doesn’t seem to be discouraged, and neither are her dads. They cheer on every attempt of hers and they know it will be sooner, rather than later, that one of them is successful.

Today the five of them come into the common room some time before dinner—Mountain carrying Arya, Swiss Amon, and Aelin stomping on next to them holding onto Swiss’ tail for balance.

Most of the pack is there, including Dewdrop with one of his guitars—casually playing some random tunes, probably coming up with them as he goes. On either side of him there’s Rain and Aeon, and Aether and Sunshine are bustling about in the kitchen.

As soon as Aelin notices Rain, she waddles over to him with a big smile.

“Hello, duckling!” he greets her and when she reaches him, he picks her up and sits her on his thigh. Swiss and Mountain put Amon and Arya down on the carpet and Amon starts crawling towards Aeon right away, while Arya…stands. She stands still in one place, looking as if she’s carefully calculating something; she probably is. Everyone watches her carefully and somewhat expectantly.

Then Dewdrop strums his guitar a single time and she takes off in his direction. The fire ghoul starts laughing and reaches out to catch the ghoulette before she slams her face against his legs.

Swiss and Mountain let out breaths that they didn’t even know were holding only when she safely arrives at her destination. Only then do they smile and laugh and cheer like the rest of the ghouls present.

“Oh, we’re so doomed now that she can do that,” Aeon giggles under his breath. Mountain and Swiss don’t even have it in themselves to disagree—there’s no denying an up-and-running Arya will be a handful.

They sigh, while the ghoulette is having the time of her life strumming Dewdrop’s guitar.

Yule has come and gone, New Year’s Eve has come and gone, and before long it’s February again. Neither Swiss, nor Mountain can believe it’s been a year since their kits have been born. They think back to it and laugh about some parts of that day; Copia’s reaction to Swiss starting to give birth in his bedroom, for one.

Aelin, Arya, and Amon’s first birthday (the only birth-day among the Ministry’s ghouls, is worth noting, as they all only have their summoning days), wasn’t too pompous—their dads have decided that they’re not going to remember it anyway, so a bigger birthday parties will happen later on; they want their kits to have these memories.

This year the kits have, of course, gotten a cake—special baby-safe cake baked by Cumulus and Rain—and a bunch of gifts. Things like toys, plushies, and some more clothes, as they’ve already grown out of most of what they had.

In the afternoon, the kits have had a nap, and now they’re waking up. Arya’s always quite cranky after a nap and today is no exception. Her cries sober up both her siblings and her dads, who sigh and get up to get her and help her settle.

Mountain picks her up and starts looking around for her bunny plushie before Arya notices its absence. He’s not fast enough, though, so her crying grows in volume before her Papa finds the plushie and places it against her. 

“There, there, here’s your rabbit,” he sighs, smiling softly as he watches the ghoulette all but melt. She kicks up a purr and nuzzles against the plushie before–

“‘Bit,” she mumbles. 

“What?” Mountain chuckles in shock. 

“‘Bit!” Arya repeats, clear as a day.

“Yes, your rabbit! Oh, you silly girl,” the earth ghoul coos and hugs her before turning to Swiss. “Hey, darling, listen to this.”

“Hm?” Swiss perks up from where he’s dressing Amon.

Mountain prompts Arya to say her word again, but she only chomps down at the plushie’s ear and remains silent. “Oh, really? Now you’re quiet?”

“What is it?”

“She said ‘bit’, after I gave her her rabbit,” Mountain explains, but Swiss doesn’t seem to believe him. “She really did, twice!”

“Sure, sure,” the multi ghoul giggles. “I’ll believe it when I hear it.”

His mate grumbles something in displeasure as he puts Arya down on the bed and gets to dressing her up.

“Can you hand me some socks for her?” Mountain asks Swiss and he walks over with a pair. While he’s there, he attempts to help the earth ghoul with their daughter by taking her plushie’s ear out of her mouth, but it backfires.

“‘BIT!!!” Arya screams, completely stunning Swiss. Mountain only smiles smugly and continues putting on her socks.

With the help of a picture book, Aelin has learned exactly who everyone around is and has a way of naming them all. The grown ups practice it with her often and even though with only the five of them in the room there isn’t much opportunity to do that, Swiss still tries.

When he points at Amon, Aelin points at a tree in the book; Mountain is, obviously, a mountain; Arya is the sun.

Then, Swiss points at himself, “Who’s this?”

Aelin doesn’t point this time. Her face lights up before she proudly says her first word, “Mama.”

Swiss’ jaw drops and so does Mountain’s next to him. “Did she just…?”

“Say that again, sweetheart?” the multi ghoul prompts before breaking out into a huge grin.

“Mama!” Aelin calls out while clapping her hands, Swiss and Mountain’s reactions only spurring her on. “Mama, mama, mama!”

“I am, yes, I am, my little princess!” Swiss cheers with his eyes only mildly wet.

He brings the ghoulette close to her for a hug and she sighs dramatically, whispering one more time, “Mama…”

Swiss and Mountain are worried.

Arya and Aelin have already taken their first steps five months ago—the former is already zooming through the corridors at alarming speeds—and started talking—the water ghoulette doesn’t spare her vocal chords calling out for her Mama and Papa whenever possible…but Amon? He has still neither started talking, nor walking.

The little earth ghoul is calm and quiet, not causing much, if any, trouble. On the one hand, Mountain and Swiss are grateful for that, but on the other, they’re worried. For some reason he has taken a particular liking to Aether and Aeon; the assumption that he’s drawn to quintessence is obvious. It doesn’t bother his dads—quite the opposite, they’re glad their little boy has two favorite uncles.

He’s with them right now, playing sensory games on the floor in the common room while Swiss and Mountain watch them from the couch. Aelin and Arya are spending time with, respectively, Rain and Dewdrop.

At some point Amon yawns in a truly adorable way, making everyone in the room coo over him.

“Tired?” Aether asks him. He nods and rubs his eyes with his little fists in reply.

“Oh, so sleepy,” Aeon chuckles before gesturing towards the couch. “Go to your Mama and Papa, sprout.”

“Yeah, c’mon, baby,” Swiss encourages with a grin, fully expecting his son to clumsily crawl to them. That’s how he begins his journey, indeed, but as he’s passing the coffee table he grabs its leg and starts to pull himself up.

Mountain gasps quitely and freezes, watching carefully. Swiss’ smile drops into a shocked, albeit excited and proud expression. Aeon and Aether stay back on the floor, but the latter slowly crawls after the kit to catch him, in case his attempt goes wrong.

His first three steps are very wobbly, but soon enough he gains some stability and rushes onwards. The little earth ghoul stumbles the last two steps towards the couch and flops against it with a bright smile on his face. Swiss scoops him right up and all but attacks him with kisses all over his little face. Amon giggles loudly, making everyone start laughing—they’re all so proud of him!

“Good job, sweet thing!” Swiss squeals, vibrating with joy.

“You’re going to join your sisters in haunting the Abbey soon enough, won’t you?” Mountain chuckles; also very happy and proud, but more composed.

Amon scrunches up his eyebrows at that, clearly displeased with the implication. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, then purses his lips, and–

“No,” he says while shaking his head. The room explodes in cheers; the kit keeps giggling.

Taglist: @jimothybarnes @skele-bunny @everybodyshusband @ratsummer @jazz-bazz @mac-and-thefox @karmicbias @wine-irytatus @ghoultrifle (if anyone from here wants to be removed lmk, and also if anyone else wants to be added)

[ragyragd0ll]

Fairy Amon (And Cinn')

[eltheabberation]

"This is the end... of pretending to be a family."

Those words cut Koutarou like a knife, like claws through flesh.

Bodies on the table, he knew their names and yet he couldn't recognize their faces anymore.

His mind was still processing everything, his body collapsing as he started to shake, and yet there was one thought that took over everything else. The fear, the despair, the horror of everything he'd seen, and yet...

Please don't leave me please don't leave me please don't leave me please

"Wait! Father!" He cried out, his legs practically buckling as he turned to run after him. Donato stopped and turned around. Koutarou grabbed onto his leg and held him tightly, tears streaming down his face as he tried to ignore the stench of blood that permeated the room and his father's clothes.

"Hm?"

"No... you- you can't, we're still... I'm still..." Koutarou couldn't even get the words out as he started sobbing, ugly tears that rolled down his cheeks and made his face red and blotchy. Donato smiled, a perfect mixture of compassionate and condescension.

"Oh, child." He picked Koutarou up gently, cradling him in his arms. "I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

"Don't... don't leave me, please-"

"Shh, it's alright, I won't leave." He set Koutarou onto the ground wiping away his tears with bloodstained fingers. Pulled him close and ran his fingers through his hair. "Though..." he said, as he comforted his son. "What would you do to keep being a family?" Koutarou hiccuped.

"Any- Anything..." Donato smiled softly.

"Well that's good." He bent down and tapped Koutarou softly on the nose. "Because if we're going to keep being a family, I'm going to need some help."

[matt0044]

A video was made to generate thoughtful discussions rather than be "Avatar/Korra bad" and TheStoryteller's legit enough in my book. It's called:

Avatar’s Hidden Fear of Real Change

My take?

To me, Korra actually does take things away from her enemies. Amon's was a more personal one in how her resolve and confidence would be challenged in seasons to come. However, Unalaq would lead Korra to think that maybe the spirit portals should remain open and takes his points about the world losing connection with the spirits in its modern forms. Zaheer might've been bad about it buuuuuuut he still killed the Earth Queen (with a very real fallout) and forced Korra to reckon if the world needed, well, her.

Now Kuvira has a point about the potentially stolen land buuuuut it was meant to be a symbol of peace with the Earth Kingdom involved. Furthermore, she still rebuilt the Earth Kingdom into something very... dictatorial as the Earth Empire. Heck, Korra sparing her and talk her down once she was depowered feels like natural extension of Aang vs. Ozai.

Personally, I feel like the comics could stand to be adapted as a new season with us seeing Kuvira go free and reform herself but I digress.

Now in terms of writing and production crew, at the very worst, it's more the blind leading the blind. Blind to their potential biases and not so well aged attitudes. Fact of the matter is that none of us are as woke as we believe to be.

That's the benign truth. But even then, I still stand by my reading.

I think Korra’s stance is more, “Changes to the Status Quo will be ugly but necessary as they expose what needs to be rethought.” Amon’s takeover of Republic City led to them restructuring the council into a presidency, one with a non-bender who could see the perspectives of those Amon enamored.

However, that still led to an imperfect society with a president concerned with reputation and polls. Thus not the blanket solution as it may’ve felt.

Each villain after exposes something off about Korra’s era but they seek to overhaul the world overnight. The truth is that when society is this entrenched in these systems, a sudden revolution is going to cause a lot more problems in the aftermath. Kuvira’s Earth Empire was a knock off effect from Zaheer’s killing of the Earth Queen after all.

Maybe it’s the recent years but I’ve come to realize that there won’t be a neat and tidy society reform that will be all happily ever after. Prejudices linger like a bad stain and while it’s important to get it out, it may not be for many generations until it gets out.

Whole reason why Trump was ever nominated was because he spoke to the people who didn’t like how things were changing like legalized gay marriages and more scrutiny put on cops post-Ferguson. He spoke to those who wanted to say the quiet part outloud.

But is it really portraying the systems and status quos as a full on good thing as some try to claim if corruption is still present?

In Season 1, we have the corrupt Tarrlok and the rather complicit council. Especially with how he had the police be more hard on non-benders out past curfew who weren't causing any harm. While one can make the argument they don't do more with it (time limits on episodes aside for now), there is an acknowledgement that he's using the corruption in Republic City's flawed systems.

At best, the show doesn't portray change as impossible but really hard and how the anger it inspires can be taken advantage of. It shows the systems maybe in too neutral of a light but Avatar Korra has frequently been shown to fly in the face of authority:

-going vigilante on the Triads and getting arrested for it.

-Going against Tarrlok, especially when her friends are arrested because of it.

-Defying the Earth Queen's authority and freeing the airbenders even if her laws permit her to do with them as she wishes.

My read on her character post-Book 1 is that she's "play by the rules unless said rules are bullshit." As Avatar, she learns that she has to be responsible more during social unrest but that doesn't mean that she'll stand by if she's needed.

I don't deny that a story about industrialization in Avatar's world would be worth exploring. But that feels like a conudrum that the Gaang had to contend with well before Korra's time with how the comics show the gears of industry spreading out of the Fire Nation.

See, the mistake people make about Amon is that he's less a civil leader and more a cult leader taking advantage of non-benders' discontent. He believes in his own hype but he sees himself as king of the castle and all others as his loyal subjects. Even so, the Equalists do what they do out of a desire to change things. Hence, why the reveal of Noatak's bending dissolved his cult of personality.

There's also how Zaheer and Kuvira are shown as two sides of the same coin with anarchism and fascism. Varrick represent capitalism and he only ever remotely becomes a "good guy" when he's stripped of his fortune, escaping Republic City to start over in Zaofu.

I could reccommend a video essay I like but honestly, I recommend returning to the show proper. It's there on Netflix if you got it. I think people, be they blind Korra haters or critics that are a bit more honest, haven't truly sat with the show with a rewatch. It's worth really seeing what the show overall is saying for oneself.

I also feel that some underestimate how much East-Asian culture in infused in the show. Though Bryan and Mike are caucasian, they've very much worked to make sure they respect the culture that Avatar's world is inspired by. It's worth delving into the behind the scenes info. The artbook's cool.