#Demeter: Can you shut the fuck up?

[my--moon]

❝ Tonight is ours ❞

Pairing; Percy Jackson X Fem!Reader (Child of Dionysus) Warning; TEASED SMUT. READ AT OWN RISK PLEASE.. situation-ship? angst A/N; @riordanness, I hope your happy honey. this is your dinner. (Fluff, Angst and Smut) Full course meal

Previous: Daddy Doesn't Like You

The two stated that that wouldn't happen again.

That was a fucking lie. It wasn't long after the "situation" that Percy came back to her cabin.

Knock knock kn-knock knock! He tapped rhythmically against the plum coloured door, the grape vines wrapping against the porch freely. Seems nobody bothers calling a Gardner... Or a Demeter kid.

The child of Dionysus opened the door, clutching a bottle of suspiciously red coloured liquid in one hand and the door in the other.

“Oh great.” She rolled her eyes. (Y/N) looked the sea prince up and down. “What do you want? I'm NOT in the mood for a fuck sess. So this better be good.”

“Relax,” Percy put his hands up in surrender. “I came for a friendly chat... And a drink, whatcha got in that bottle?”

(Y/N) looked down at her bottle, and swished the red liquid around. “Cheap booze.” She answered.

“Uh huh, so it's too expensive for my taste?” He smirked before getting swatted by (Y/N)'s hand.

“The more of a smartass you are, the less booze you get.” She hissed. Percy chuckled before walking into her cabin, silently locking the door behind him.

(Y/N) walked into her bedroom area, with her desk, bed and wardrobe. She fumbled over to her desk chair, the sunsets rays shone through the curtains, casting a wine colour onto the floors.

Percy took a swig of the wine she held. It took him a moment before replying with a look of disgust. “Oh this is horrid.” He said, passing it back to her.

“Told.. you. Cheap.” She said, hating the taste but still taking a sip.

(Y/N) was absolutely stunning in Percy's eyes (even when half drunk). Percy was always a bit of a sucker for moody women, with her (h/c) fluffy hair, with (s/c) skin and features that challenge Aphrodite's...

When she smiles at him, his mind goes blank. He can already see himself doing anything she asks. Whatever she wanted from him, he’d happily offer it up. Who wouldn’t, when looking into her eyes?

“You should smile.” He said offhandedly, his own smile playing at his lips. A mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Shut up.” (Y/N) glared.

“C'mon. You're still mad about last time?” Percy questioned, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it.

“Of course I am! You left your necklace and my dad found out! Do you realise how hard it is to convince my dad that I'm not sleeping with you?”

“You mean wasn't.” Percy corrected. “You mean 'that I wasn't sleeping with you'.” Correcting her grammar with a smug smile—made her groan in annoyance.

“Shut. Up. Trout breath.” (Y/N) hissed at him, placing the bottle back on her table.

“Trout breath? I've heard Seaweed Brain, but trout breath is new.” Percy chuckled softly.

“What did I just say?”

Percy rolled his eyes at her defiance and annoyed glare. “Listen, just c'mere.” He beckoned her over.

(Y/N) cocked an eyebrow at before reluctantly standing up and shuffling over to him. “What do you want—”

“You.” He cuts her off, his face inches away from her own.

“Pardon?”

Before she can get a response—Lips smashed together, her eyes widened but quickly close, warm tongues dance in each other's mouths. He grabs her hips and pulls her close.

She holds herself up by grabbing on his bicep. Leaning against the bed, the pair fall on their backs as their lost in their own passion.

For a moment, they break apart, (Y/N) panting and hungry for more. Percy just smirks. “I thought you weren't in the mood for a fuck sess?”

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.” She replied, gripping onto his collar for leverage. Percy does as he's told.

His lips caressed her own, his palms make their way up and down. Gliding along her waist and hips like she was a delicate jewel.

The sun set as the two's moans and 'delighted' sounds got louder. The (h/c) girl groaned at his tongue in her mouth.

A fist full of the sheets scrunched up in her hands, her head thrown back as Percy removed his tongue from her mouth.

Percy looked at her neck and back at her. “May I, dear?” He asked. (Y/N) nodded, then he started his assault of hickeys on her neck. A low moan escaped from her throat, followed by breathless pants.

“Mmrph...!”

Percy found his way over to her shirt buttons, unbuttoning her shirt. As the piece of clothing slipped out, so did his own shirt.

“Relax, sweetheart. Let me handle it.” He whispered with a grin as (Y/N)'s eyes rolled back.

Outside of the cabin, the grape vines that wrapped around the porch beams—started to tighten and bloom. The grapes ripened almost immediately, the juicy grapes ready to pick.

People outside—who we're heading back to their cabins for their night routines—looked confused at the grapes sudden ripening.

They shrugged off the question—they assumed it was similar to the Demeter kids powers, growing and blossoming depending on their emotions.

Of course, they weren't technically wrong.

As the night washed over the blue sky, and the colours of the day turned dark—The pair inside the Dionysus cabin hadn't stopped.

“Uh~”

“Quiet down, honey.”

The two's drunken states became lust filled and passionate. Their love and alcohol driven states had lead to another night of ecstasy and desire. Another promise broken.

The sound of (Y/N)'s alarm rang throughout the Dionysus cabin. (Y/N) reluctantly arose from her slumber and tried to turn off her alarm clock.

“C'mon..” She groaned, banging on the clock's buttons to turn it off. She moaned in annoyance, as she flung the clock off her beside table, making it crash and break on the hardwood floors of the wine cabin.

(Y/N) looked down at the damage she made, letting out a small 'eh' as she shrugged it off. She fell back and hit the plush pillow. She turned over to find Percy, sleeping next to her.

He started to stir, his eyes flicking open. Spotting (Y/N) looking at him, a grin placed on his lips. His arms snaked around her body—this was all too familiar.

(Y/N) pushed him away. Percy's brows furrowed at her distant behaviour. “Hey.. What's wrong?”

“It's like last time.” She mumbled, grabbing her oversized shirt and slipping it on.

“Not true.” Percy argued playfully. “Your dad isn't knocking at our door. and I haven't called you vino yet.”

“My door.” she corrected. (Y/N) sighed before speaking in a whisper. “Besides.. It's a cycle at this point. You come over, we argue, we fuck, we don't talk for a few days—then it repeats.”

Percy paused, his grin faltered. “Well...” (Y/N) cut him off.

“Percy. Is a hook-up all I'll ever be to you?” She asked, her expression blank but her eyes asking for reassurance.

Percy kept his arms locked around her body, resting his chin on her shoulder, before answering her.

“Look... (Y/N). You're an amazing girl, and I do love you. If your dad didn't hate my guts, I'd 100% call you mine—”

“You've already done that. The hickeys prove it.”

Percy chuckled before continuing. “Yea yea, either way. (Y/N), I do love you. But until your dad comes around, this is all we can do.”

(Y/N) felt better knowing at least this wasn't loveless. “Thank you... Percy. For everything really.”

“I haven't done anything for you though?”

“well... Besides back pain and bruises, you're right.”

“You're an idiot. y'know?”

“oh shush. Now c'mon. If we get up now—guarantee on hot breakfast.” (Y/N) reminded, which made Percy smile and laugh.

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Can you do immortal daughter of hecate (deadpool type immortal) x clarisse where they are out of camp and get attacked and clarisse see us get attacked and thinks we're dead and just goes on a rampage killing the monster but then reader is just casually lounging on the floor breaking the silence once clarisse calms down and starts to cry she. Would say something like

"Damn didn't know you could be so hot fighting" or something else

- back from the dead -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Child of Hekate! Reader

An - this sucks so bad I’m so sorry 😭😭

“The water is Fine! Stop being a wimp and jump in” You laughed swiming around. About an hours walk away from camp after sneaking out one night you had found an old hidden moon pool most likely an old witch ceremony place. Taking the context from old runes carved on the walls with ruined alters spread about. Directly in the middle of the mountain it was hard to notice unless someone fell in… which you did.

Swimming on your back silena shouted from beside you. “Common lise! We’re waiting on you”

“Give me a Minute damn!” she shouted from the top while tying her hair back. Clarisse grumbled something incoherent before running over the edge jumping.

Landing in water near the group you laugh as her splash hit you. You swam over to the surfacing girl. “You good” chuckling while moving a curl from her face.

You heard silena whisper something to Charlie and Chris making them both chuckle. Shooting her a small glare you rolled your eyes.

“This is stupid” Clarisse commented while placing her hands on your hips to support your body in the water. You always had a confusing relationship with clarisse, we’re You Friends, Friends with benefits, talking? A situationship? Honestly you didn’t know and it kinda pissed you off.

“Shut up it is not, this is fun” you teased wrapping your arms around her neck. “Besides no annoying lil kids to fuck up the mood”

Breaking the tension Chris coughed “Cringe”

Clarisse only gave him a dirty look making you laugh. He just swam over to his date which was a daughter of Demeter. Rolling your eyes you faced clarisse once again.

“Must be nice” clarisse shrugged gaining your attention once more. Tilting your head you hummed in response. “I mean having a relationship, you know the whole girlfriend I love you bullshit”

Raising an eye brow you scoffed. “What happened to the ‘i don’t do relationships’ girl from just a few weeks ago”

She just shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say I’m a changed woman”

“Uh huh” you pursed your lips unamused. Pushing her off of you, you swam deeper into the pool, smiling as you heard clarisse grumbled under her breath.

——

You sat on the edge of the pool, tossing your dagger in hand you smiled while talking with silena.

“So your not dating clarisse? I could of been fooled” she chuckled. Looking across the way you watched as clarisse had the Demeter girl on her shoulders while Chris sat on Charlie’s, both teams playing chicken.

“As if were nothing more than friends shes made that clear” mumbling the last half of your sentence, turning your gaze up you watched as the sky moved- wondering what your mom was doing. Lost in thought you hadn’t noticed when clarisse snuck up on you.

Her body still in the water clarisse placed her arms over your thighs, slightly laying on your bottom half she grinned up at you. “You see that? I totally beat Chris’s ass”

“I’m sure you did” you chuckled looking down at her with a subtle smile. You felt an odd sense of anger and happiness when you were around Clarisse, like you wanted to strangle her but also kiss her. You just couldn’t make up your mind.

“Hey YN! You sure where’s no monsters here right?!” Chris yelled across the way.

Looking over at him slightly offended you yelled back. “Yes I’m sure! I searched this place in and out there’s no monsters!” You rolled your eyes mocking the boy with your hands making clarisse laugh.

—

Sitting around a small fire that Charlie had made you all looked up from the top of the cliff and watched the stars while talking.

You laid close to clarisse, her arm wrapped around you while you traced soft shaped onto her leg. “That’s stupid” Clarisse bluntly spoke not enjoying Chris’s scary story.

“Your just mad you didn’t think of it yourself” he Bit back trying to look attractive for his date.

“I don’t think you can think” her joke making the group laugh.

A loud sound came from down the hall. A dreadful silence fell over the group. It was like you knew what was down there but none wanted to look.

“I’ll go see what it is” clarisse stood up grabbing her spear, You however stopped her. “Wait here with the group.. please, I’ll go see what it is”

“And what if it’s a monster”

“I’ll be fine larue I’m not a child” you chuckled walking down the hall. Clarisses eyes followed your body mainly admiring it in the bikini. “She’s going to get killed I swear” the stronger girl sat back down while muttering under her breath.

Silena rolled her eyes whistling to gain clarisses attention. “So when are you asking her out”

She just gave the girl a dirty look. “Never, we’re just friends”

“Friends don’t cuddle clarisse” she teased laughing as clarisse got ready to insult her, before she could speak however you came running down the hall.

“Everybody go!” You shouted, as they stood up you were tackled to the ground a hellhound pinning you to the ground before ripping you insides out, the formerly blue water now turning red

Clarisses scream was louder than anyone could of imagined. Even the hound stepped back in fear. Running at it with tears in her eyes she stabbed it with her spear. Throwing the hound against the wall clarisse continued to beat the dog.

In her fit of Rage the rest of the group stood silent not wanting to believe the scene of their friend bleeding out. Once the dog was dead clarisse panted with anger, her eyes filled to the brim with tears while watching it turn to dust. Turning around harshly she marched towards your lying form.

Dropping down beside you she picked you up, laying you in her lap. “You stupid stupid Hekate Girl, Why the hell didn’t you just let me go” she softly cried. Holding you close she muttered an ‘i love You’ against your skin.

“Love you to clarisse”

She pulled her head back in shock to see you teasingly smiling at her. Silena ran up to you the rest of the kids following suit, dropping down beside you she touched your stomach to see not even a scar— it was completely healed.

You could tell clarisse was confused, it was cute. “A spell, learned it a while back. It keeps monsters from killing me, with exceptions but I wont get into that” clarisse pushed you out of her arms

“Why the hell djd you tell me before!” She shouted with tears still falling.

“Didn’t think it was important” you laughed leaning into her you gave her a soft kiss you smiled. “Now about that I Love you”

She got up walking away embarrassed ignoring your playful shouting after her.

YN - you love me don’t lie

Clarisse - no I don’t

YN - I just said don’t lie

———

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

hiii i love your fics so much!!❤️ could you pls make a leo x reader (doesn’t matter what godly parents you can do whatever :) ) and they get into a fight but make up in the end🙏 take your time i hope you’re having a great day!

✮⋆˙ miscommunication is key; leo valdez x reader argument blurb

content: leo valdez x reader argument blurb warning: cursing and minor angst but fluff and comfort to save the day. author's note: this ones kinda all over the place and the spanish is in fact google translate bc im a lazy mfer.

"no, no, c'mon, we're gonna talk about this," you all but begged, following leo as he stomped through bunker nine, grumbling under his breath and pretending to ignore you to the best of his abilities.

"talk about what?" bit out leo, glaring at you without a joking undertones that he usually used, "i thought there was nothing to talk about."

"you're shutting me out, leo, and it's not productive to this conversation. i, like an hour ago, was not under the impression there was anything to talk about. clearly, i was wrong, but now that i offer to talk, what, it's too late? because i didn't pick up instantly on the fact you were mad with me?" you rambled, stopping and crossing you arms, traces of confusion littering your features. and leo rolled his eyes and turned away, wanting to be mad but knowing he couldn't be if he saw you looking at him like that.

"not mad with you. made at you. big difference," argued leo, shaking his head slightly in frustration.

"do not talk semantics to me, right now of all times. leo...i don't know how else to tell you this, but he's just a friend. so what if i've known him for three years? it shouldn't change anything-"

"what changes is the fact that you just so happened to exclude that part when you were telling me about him. you hid it and you lied," leo cut in, pointing over at you, accusatorily. you sighed, taking a few breaths to not add anger to the fire that was this conversation.

"please, leo, don't call me a liar. it's not fair, at all. and, if i accidently forgot to mention that i've known him for so many years, i take accountability for that, really i do. but some of this is on you too. if you didn't get so mad-"

"y si no fueras tan puta a veces," leo muttered under his breath before stilling, realizing his own words after they'd left his mouth, "wait-"

"go to hell, valdez. gods, i don't even know why i try to have these conversations with you. come find me when you grow the fuck up and remove your head from your ass," you bit out, taking slow steps backwards, forcing him to look into your tear filled eyes.

a few hours later, you were laying in a patch of grass that the demeter kids liked to overgrow. if you didn't know better, you wouldn't be able to see if anyone was in the grass. but leo did know better. gently wading his way through the grass, he stopped a few feet away from your spot, sitting down and tucking his legs under himself. there was silence for a few minutes and leo was slightly worried you had no idea he was there. or that you didn't want him there anymore.

"did you remove your head from your ass?" you asked, softly, and leo could hear the hint of a smile in your voice, which he was more than grateful for, though he felt undeserving.

"something like that," he muttered back, his fingers tapping some anxious rhythm against his thigh.

"good. now, do you want to try that conversation over again? this time, no rude ass spanish?" you offered, this time sitting up, your head just barely visible over the swishing grass.

"this time, i'll listen," leo added, nodding his head solidly. it earned him a smile, a smile that told him he was already forgiven. a smile that oozed of the love she felt for him.

a smile that was reserved for him and him alone.

[kiwisbell]

The Impaler

Chief Detective Tim Rockford makes a breakthrough in New York City’s latest serial killer case. The mysterious culprit is in the mood to share more than information.

my masterlist!

pairing: tim rockford x f!reader x max phillips

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings: vampires, gothic architecture, slightly dubious consent, implied mind alteration/control, murder, death, blood, threesome, lots of biting, spanking, spitroasting, masturbation, DVP, fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap ur vampire dicks pls), wife sharing, free use kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), exchanging fluids, spitting, disgusting and filthy, max using cringey nicknames for reader’s pussy but it’s charming bc it’s max, handcuffs, light bondage, hair pulling

word count: ~ 7.2k

read on ao3!

a/n: hello, my loves!! i wanted to do something special for halloween, so i decided to slap together a short, silly, unpolished one-shot inspired by dracula! this one is dedicated to my vampire obsession and tim rockford's shoulder holsters. anyway, please mind the tags, and enjoy!!

PREFACE

“No one but a woman can help a man when he is in trouble of the heart." — Bram Stoker, Dracula

“I swear to God, Ron, I’m two seconds away from taking up smoking again.”

Chief Detective Tim Rockford pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling his eye twitch minutely with every pass he makes of the cork board.  

The seventh victim in two weeks, and he’s no closer to an answer. Last night, thirty-two-year-old Dean Madison was found by the harbour, a couple shades paler than his family insisted he usually was and with two small puncture wounds in his neck. Otherwise, the coroners didn’t find a single wound on him. Before Madison, it was a couple in Central Park, and before that, a college football player. Their bodies were all found in virtually the same condition, but not one of them is related. 

Random. Unplanned acts of violence carried out exclusively at night, predicated on nothing but the apparent desire to kill. The culprit left no fingerprints, no murder weapon, no footprints. There's no motivation. 

Groaning as he stands, elder Detective Ron Lauder hands Tim a manila folder. “List of the boats going in and out last night, if you fancy makin’ your eyes cross. I gotta call it here, man. You should go home, too, get some sleep.”

Tim claps Ron on the back. “Nah, man, I gotta file these away first. You go on home.”

“Don’t come cryin’ to me when you fall asleep in your Cheerios tomorrow.” Ron leaves yawning, and Tim hears the door gently click shut in the distance, signalling a familiar solitude in the bullpen. 

The other cops know about the case. They all have bets running. Will the chief get it right? Will he get himself killed? When’s the next victim going to show? Tim indulges their morbid little fantasy pool by devoting most of his waking—and sleeping—hours to the task. 

He decides to settle in with the logs from the docks. Scanning every line item, he feels his eyelids pulling down, and takes another sip of coffee to stay awake. 

One name catches his eye. Demeter. 

Tim narrows his eyes, his gaze travelling across the page. The logs only account for the past twenty-four hours, but he's seen that name before. He sets down the file and hurries to his desk, rifling through the top drawer, setting aside his pocket knife and his gun, to produce another file labelled ???? 

Not very creative, but it’s not like he’s going to label a file My Latest Failure. He opens the folder and scours the paperwork inside for witness statements. 

There. 

Fuck—here it is. His first goddamn lead. 

On the 14th of October, a dock worker watched the Demeter stroll up to the harbour through the water and a man saunter inside, exchanging cash with the driver. The man left with a box. Because the Demeter was listed as a private vessel, the dock worker had reason for concern if the boat was conducting business without a license. He reported this to the police. 

Tim eyes the cork board, following the red thread that connect each victim. He curses. 

The next day, the boat’s driver was found dead in a Soho alleyway. Two puncture wounds in his neck. 

Jesus Christ. Tim’s fingers tremble as he turns the page to continue reading. 

If the Demeter is conducting frequent illegal business from that harbour and the client doesn't want anyone finding out, it’s likely that client is exactly who Tim is looking for. And it's even likelier poor Dean Madison was in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Give me something. A wire transfer pattern. A paper trail. A benevolent benefactor who keeps the engine running. 

Outside, the wind whistles, and Tim blinks away sleep. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a shape pass by the window, and his head jerks up. 

There's a bat hanging from the tree outside. The creature stares for a long while, near-incisive, as if telling Tim to go the fuck to sleep. He checks his watch. It’s two o’clock. 

More than enough time to head down to the docks. 

The next night, just after nine o’clock, Tim knocks on the door of a hulking mansion in Soho.

The Gothic spires of the home stretch to the wispy clouds, the moon taking up a vigil over the grand roof. Arched windows glare down at him. You are a trespasser, they hiss. You do not belong here. The door knocker is shaped like a pair of bat wings, and the ancient, ornate doors creak under the force of his pounding. Overhead, clouds continue to roll in, signalling some fall storm. A shiver racks his body. 

A woman opens the door, and Tim’s heartbeat stutters.  

You’re beautiful. Your smile is so radiant it infects your eyes, your body draped in a tiny white slip, skin so soft it seems to glow in the light. You briefly assess Tim with those keen eyes. 

“Good evening, sir,” you say. Tim licks his lips. Your voice is soft as water. 

“Good… uh, good evening, ma'am.” He forgets that he is supposed to remain suspicious and clasps his hands together in front of him. “Chief Detective Tim Rockford. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Oh,” you purr, demurely folding your hands together in a mirror action to Tim, “of course. Would you like some coffee?”

In the movement, he catches a glimmer of the golden band around your ring finger. “No. Thank you.”

Amusement twinkles in your eyes. “That’s good, because we don’t have any.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he says good-naturedly. “What’s your husband’s name?”

“Phillips,” you reply dutifully, nibbling your bottom lip. “Max Phillips.”

Fuck. 

He has the right person. He just can't help but wonder if you're a part of it, too. 

There’s not a chance. You’re too good. Too beautiful. Your eyes pull him in, waves swallowing the shore, your pupils shrinking and dilating as if speaking to him. 

“Have you seen this man?” Tim asks, presenting a picture of Dean Madison, drained of blood and neck punctured. 

You frown, but he finds no glimmer of recognition in your eyes, no evidence of an increased heart rate. “Oh, gosh, no. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” says Tim. He doesn't know why he bothers, but he hides the gruesome image. He doesn't want to see you upset. 

“Am I in trouble for something, Detective?” 

Your breasts sit so nicely in that little nightgown, the line of your thighs so tempting under the hem, your skin so fucking dewy he could lick all the nectar from it. Tim blinks hard. What the fuck is wrong with him? 

“No,” he says tightly. “Just here to ask some questions. Does the name Demeter mean anything to you?”

Sheepishly, you shrug. “She's a Greek goddess.”

“She’s also a boat,” says Tim. “It’s connected to two incidents by the docks in the past couple weeks.”

“Incidents?” 

The curve of your throat would fit his mouth so nicely. You’re beautiful in the way a marble statue is—elegant and poised, carefully arranged, silk dripping like honey off your perfect fucking body. 

Tim clears his throat. His head feels foggy. 

“Do you mind if I speak to your husband?”

“Maxie?” your sweet voice calls. The sound echoes off the polished walls, petering gently to a lullaby, and Tim wants to rescue you from such a cruel place. “Maxie, there's a man at the door, and he wants to speak with you.”

A man descends the grand spiral staircase, dressed in a suit even though it’s nighttime, adjusting his cufflinks and grinning like a real schmoozer. He’s got the same dark eyes and nose and mouth as Tim, but marked by signs of youth the detective doesn't have. He’s clean-shaven, bright-eyed, lively. 

“Evening, Detective,” says Max Phillips. “Hope you haven't been giving my wife any trouble. Hi, baby.”

You beam at him, holding out your hand. Max threads his fingers through yours and pushes himself into your space, playfully nipping your earlobe. Your giggle is intoxicating. Tim wants to be the one making you smile this way. 

“Mr. Phillips, have you seen this man?” 

Phillips takes a break from crushing his nose in your throat to examine the picture. “Haven’t seen him,” he says, “but it looks like he isn’t seeing anyone.”

“Last night,” says Tim, tucking the picture away, “I went down to the docks and took a look around. You know what I found, Mr. Phillips?”

“This isn't a very fun game, Detective.” Phillips is busying himself with your hair, twirling a lock of it around his finger. You stare up at your husband like he hung the fucking moon and Tim wants to know what it feels like to earn that look. 

“I found blood,” says Tim. “Bags of blood from St. Clare’s Mercy in St. John’s. What kind of sick bastard steals blood from a hospital? I wondered. Then I checked the registration and found a name. Phillips.”

The revelation doesn't seem to faze Phillips the way it did Tim. His lips curve in a frown against your temple. “Looks like the detective knows how to do his job.”

You play with your husband’s fingers as if coaxing him to use them on you. “Didn’t mean to,” you whisper. 

“Shh, sweetheart, I know.” Max tucks your hair behind your ear, his voice so gentle. “I know you didn't mean to, baby. We all get hungry.”

Tim's nostrils flare. You’re both so indifferent to all you've done—you don't care one bit that you've killed, that you’ve left Tim and all his inferiors scratching their heads and losing sleep for weeks. 

He’s got his culprits, all right. 

What the fuck do they want with bags of blood? 

His lip curls. “Just tell me the truth. We can all work together here.”

“About that man by the docks,” you say softly, stepping forward with a placating smile on your face. “I got carried away, Detective. I never wanted to—”

Tim has heard enough. He withdraws his gun from its holster and points the barrel between your eyes. “Do not. Move.”

Your lower lip juts out in a pout, but Phillips’s eyes darken, playful veneer crumbling fast, at the sight of a gun pointed at his wife. “Now, Detective,” he says good-naturedly, though his rigid posture betrays any sense of camaraderie. “If you're gonna point that gun at anyone, it should be me.”

“That so?” Tim’s eyes don't stray from you. Your eyes are wide as a doe’s, your glossy lips parted in vague shock, your silky nightgown contoured so deliciously to your shape. You smell fresh, roses and perfume, and his head goes fuzzy. Your skin looks so soft, glowing under the orange firelight… 

He wonders how you would taste.

His finger trembles near the trigger. 

Phillips presses closer to you, his hand sliding around your waist, his fingers splaying over your ribs. Possessive. His eyes are on Tim, and that look—it peels him apart. Tim may be holding a weapon, but he feels powerless to do anything at all. 

Fear strikes him true. He should not have knocked on this door tonight. 

“You know what I like about people?” says Phillips, idly circling his thumb over your waist while his eyes fall to your pretty face, his other hand twisting your hair around his finger. “I like that they're so… hmm, supple. It's like plucking all the petals off a flower. Can see all the stuff inside with one little pull.” 

Phillips suddenly ducks his head and Tim jolts, pointing the gun his way, but the killer only places an open-mouthed kiss on your throat, just beneath your ear. 

Tim watches your eyes flutter, a sedated little smile growing on your face, and he wants to know. He needs to know what you taste like. 

“That’s more like it, Detective,” says Phillips, playfully nipping your throat before he pulls back. Tim sees a flash of glistening white as the killer bares his teeth and presumes a man as well-off as Max Phillips knows something about veneers. “I know what you want. You don't want to point that gun at my wife, do you?”

Tim’s jaw ticks. He doesn't. He doesn't want to hurt you at all. He wants to make you smile. He wants to slip his hand inside that nightgown and tear it all away to see what's beneath. He wants to put his mouth on you, touch you, do whatever you fucking want him to do. 

Phillips chuckles, and a tremor oozes down Tim’s spine. He isn't safe here—he knew this straight away—but there's more to the couple in front of him than they’re letting him know. “Mmm, she has that effect on lots of people,” says Phillips. “Can’t tell you how many men I’ve had to kill just because they decided to touch.” He pinches your ass for effect and you laugh, hiding your face in Max’s neck. 

“Is that a confession?” says Tim, gritting his teeth as another wave of your perfume pervades reason. 

“Sure,” says Phillips, “it's a confession. But I don't think you want to leave. I think you want to stay here and fuck my wife. Do I get the cash prize, Detective?”

Tim wavers. The door is… It’s right there. He’s standing just inside, could turn around and bolt the hell out of here now, could radio for backup and cuff both of these freaks in two seconds. 

He lowers the gun. 

“Thaaat’s it,” coos Phillips. “I’ll offer you a deal now. Make her feel good, and I’ll forget about you pointing that gun at her.”

Tim’s cock is stiff in his pants, blood surging downward and away from his brain, his body calling to the siren song emitting from you. He’ll drown in it. There's no turning back. Behind him, the door swings closed, untouched. 

You grin at Tim, biting your bottom lip and threading your fingers through Max’s hair. This way, you keep your husband fixed to you, nipping playfully at your throat.

“Do you want to touch me, sir?” you ask him, your voice dripping nectar. 

Tim’s jaw ticks. His head inclines in a nod. 

“No, no, no, Detective, that's no fun,” tuts Max. “Is it, baby?”

“Mmm, no fun,” you echo, the sound of it melodic, enchanting. “Want you to want it, Detective. Want you to show me you want it.”

Tim nods again, stepping closer, his eyes raking over your body in that little white slip, held in place by Phillips’ hands. 

“You're not going to touch my wife with a gun in your hand,” says Phillips darkly. “You’re going to drop it, and then you’ll clean off your dirty fingers in her pretty cunt.”

Tim flicks on the safety and sets the gun on the table just inside the foyer, shucking off his jacket. He doesn't care about the goddamn case anymore. He’s bone-tired, sick of all the overtime he's putting in with no return on investment, and so lonely that it aches. He needs a body to bury himself inside, a sweet, pretty girl to taste. He didn't expect he’d pick the woman he's been chasing for weeks. 

He approaches you slowly, taking in the entire length of your body, wondering about the texture of your hair, the softness of your skin. He gets to explore it tonight. He won't waste the chance. 

The first touch electrifies his nerves. Your skin is velvet under his rough palms, your head tilting idly to the side as your husband continues to kiss your neck. Tim caresses your arms, memorising the feel of you beneath his fingers, and lets your eyes swallow him. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

His voice scrapes over your skin and lifts goosebumps, some echo of the bodily instincts you once had in life. You practically purr as you hook your fingers in the holsters straining under his broad shoulders and tug him closer. 

“Please kiss me, sir.”

The scent of roses washes down his throat as he cups your face and slants his mouth over yours. Max occupies himself in the junction of your throat and shoulder, canines gently grazing what used to be your pulse point.  You moan softly into Tim’s mouth, and his cock reacts accordingly, twitching in his pants as he presses his body against yours to deepen the kiss. 

“Tastes so sweet, doesn't she?” Max muses, his hand squeezing your hip. “She’s picky, too. Must like you a lot.”

Tim groans as he pulls you closer, his hand warming the small of your back over the flimsy silk slip. His tongue slides along yours, his fingers threading in your hair, and he grinds his clothed cock into your hip. He eagerly swallows down your whines, consumed by how fucking good you feel against him. 

Max’s fangs begin to protrude from his gums as his tongue lavishes your throat, lapping up the sweetness rolling off your body, your hormones, the way you radiate need even though your heart does not beat. His cock prods your ass, confined in his pants, straining to find the friction he needs. You're melting, hands grasping greedily at Tim’s holsters, his button-up, trying to absolve him of his clothes. 

He’s so dizzy he can barely stay upright. He belongs right here in your shadow, kissing his way across your jaw, so caught up in the fervour of pleasing you that he doesn't notice the way your pulse does not flutter under his lips. 

“Does it feel good, baby?” says Max, his fangs close to puncturing your skin. “Is he doing his job?”

“Yes,” you whisper, lashes fluttering as Tim’s moustache scratches the sensitive skin below your ear. Your fingers curl in his tousled hair, dark and streaked with grey, signifiers of age your Max will never show. Your Max, who wants to taste you even though it doesn’t sustain him, who indulges in the sublime sweetness of your blood just because he loves it. 

Tim’s big hands trail down your body at the same time his mouth does, shifting the silk nightgown in his feverish need to feel more of you, bringing the entire thing down to the floor with him in one aggressive tug. You gasp, your nipples stiff as they're exposed to the cool air, your thighs squeezing together instinctively, watching Tim sink to his knees in front of you as if in a trance. 

“Don’t be shy, baby.” Max’s hand trails across your belly, palming at your thigh. Tim is crushing his nose into your skin as he kisses the spot where your hip meets your thigh. “You want him to taste your pretty pussy?”

“Yes, Max,” you whimper. “Yes, please.”

His lips ghost across your temple. “Don’t beg me. Beg him.” 

Your eyes dip below your body to find Tim staring expectantly at you as he scatters kisses along your belly, your thighs. His pupils eclipse those warm brown irises. “Please, Detective.” You comb his soft hair away from his forehead and bite your lip at the way his taut expression telegraphs unaltered desire. He needs this. He needs you. “Please taste me.”

It's all he wants. His big, broad shoulders ease your thighs open while Max moves to your back, letting you balance against his hard chest. The scrape of the leather holsters on the back of your thigh makes you shiver as Tim guides your leg up onto his shoulder. You’re fucking dripping for him, your pussy glistening with your own arousal, clinging to your inner thighs. Tim’s eyes shudder as he slowly licks your juices clean off your skin, his fingers dimpling flesh. 

“How’s she taste?” says Max, his hand fixing around your throat. Your hand overlaps his for a grip on reality, your other firmly wedged in the dreamworld, grasping Tim’s messy hair. 

“So fucking sweet,” growls Tim, his teeth sinking into your inner thigh, over your femoral artery. 

“Oh,” you moan, your head lolling against Max’s shoulder. “He likes to bite, Maxie.”

“A thorough detective,” purrs Max, his thumb caressing your jaw. “Hard to find that kind of dedication these days. Don’t make her wait, Rockford. She wants you; I can smell it.” 

Tim’s nostrils flare—one last breath of air before he sinks wholly under the water. His tongue darts out to part your folds, sliding languorously through your wet slit. You bite your lip at the sight of his strong shoulders wedged between your thighs, his nose pressed hard against your clit as he circles his tongue around your hole. You’re fucking nectar. It's euphoria, the indelible high he will always be searching to replicate. 

“Detective,” you sigh. 

Tim groans into your cunt, his hand coming down in a hard smack to your thigh. The sudden shock of the slap pools arousal in your core, a pitiful yelp leaving your mouth. 

“Sir!”

“The detective knows what this pretty little kitty wants,” says Max, grinning against your cheek. He punctuates his words with a playful thrust into your backside. “He knows you like it rough, honey. You like that?”

“Yes! Yes! More, please, I’ll do anything.”

Max considers this, humming ponderously into your throat. “Anything?”

Tim places an open-mouthed kiss on your needy clit, and you gasp, “Anything!”

“You got a pair of handcuffs on you, Rockford?”

It's a flurry of activity. You're transported efficiently to the couch in the living room, a gigantic jewel-green sectional, your hands bound behind you by two cold metal cuffs. Bent over the arm of the sofa, your thighs are spread, your cheek pressed into the cushion as you're shamelessly bared for the pair of them. Whining, you wiggle your hips, standing on your toes and presenting yourself for someone to make you feel good, already. 

“My poor baby.” Max is gently caressing the curve of your spine. “You said you'd do anything. You wanna break your promise?”

“No, no, I’ll be good,” you beg. “I’ll behave, please!”

“Hear that, Rockford?” says Max, still smiling fondly down at you. “She’ll be good.”

Hands grasp your thighs and wrench them farther apart, warm breath—living breath—blowing on your cunt. “Sir,” you gasp, writhing under his big hands, “are you gonna be nice to me?”

Tim licks a bold path through your slit and hums, his head spinning, inebriated from a taste alone. He’s keeping you spread open, lapping up your sweet juices, fixing for his next hit. Making you moan is victory alone. He’ll be more than nice to you. 

He fixes his mouth to your clit and you cry out, your hands flexing uselessly in the handcuffs. He suckles at your pearl, every sensation heightened by the fact that you can't move, buried under the weight of all the hands and metal links and pleasure. Max watches, pleased with your behaviour, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. “You’ve been bad, honey. Got a little reckless. We’re gonna teach you how to be good.”

Tim nips your clit, Max’s silent partner-in-crime, and you mewl. 

“Like you… know anything… about good.”

“Mmm, and so rude.” Max clicks his tongue in reproach. “Detective, I think you should show my wife what happens when she's rude.”

The tongue licking through your cunt stops, and a garbled sound of protest escapes your throat, your eyes bleeding mascara into the cushion. You pulse frantically around nothing, desperate to be filled somehow, anywhere. You whimper for Tim, Maxie, someone, please—

A hot, wet glob of saliva lands on your puckered asshole, and a gurgled moan leaves your lips as Tim cleans off his own spit with his tongue. 

As he swirls the wet muscle around your hole, his hand comes down in a hard slap on your ass, and you squeal, your arousal splattering on his clean white shirt. Apparently pleased, Tim groans, two thick fingers parting your folds.

“Ah! Oh, fuck, sir, please…”

Kneading the flesh of your ass in one hand, the other occupies itself by playing with your pussy, and for the first time, the detective gives you an order. 

“Tell me how it feels,” he demands, sinking two fingers into your tight cunt. His voice sounds like the shroud of night, like he knows exactly how illicit this is and fucking delights in it. 

The feeling of his tongue on your asshole and his fingers curling up against your spongy walls has you drooling, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. “It’s… ah, fuck… it’s so good, Detective. Fuck, I’m… I’m gonna—”

Max tucks your hair behind your ear so he can see the wrecked, dazed expression on your face. “We’re going to fill you up, honey. Let you prove that you're a nice girl. That sound like fun?”

“Yes,” you moan, trying to maintain eye contact with Max even as your vision blurs with tears, “s’good. Need to come, Detective. Please.”

Tim spanks your ass again, his mouth slurping indecently at your backside, his fingers coaxing you to a high you don’t see coming. Your thighs shake uncontrollably as he rubs up against your g-spot, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream as your entire body seizes. 

“There she is,” purrs Max, “such a nice girl, asking before she comes. How does your pretty kitty feel, baby?”

“Mmmsogood.” It's all a jumble in your mouth as your tension dissolves. Behind you, Tim is so gentle, licking up the release that has dripped down your thighs and tastefully avoiding your pussy. 

Max caresses your cheek. “Check in with me, honey. You want to keep going?”

You nod vigorously, flexing your fingers. Max intertwines his hand with yours, squeezing. “I want you in my mouth, Max. Wanna make you feel good.”

He grins crookedly, making eye contact with the detective behind you. Tim’s eyes are black, bright as a moonlit lake, his cock tenting his pants. Max isn't much better off. Your body will do that to a man. A woman. Fucking anyone. 

He’s just better at controlling himself. He’s had seventy years of practice. 

Max’s eyes don't waver from Tim as he speaks to you. “Want our nice detective inside you, baby?”

“Oh, please,” you gasp. “Please fill me up, sir.”

Max cocks his head toward Tim. “I think she's been good enough. Don’t you?”

Tim nods. You have. You’ve been so good. He’ll give you any goddamn thing you want. He’ll throw himself at your feet time and time again if it means you’ll look at him this way. Over your shoulder, you meet his eye, smiling sweetly enough to give him a toothache. 

“I’ll be a good girl, Detective.”

The glint of the metal cuffs reflects in his eyes, and he looks like an animal. 

Both he and Max shuck down their zippers, but it’s Tim’s hands that grab for you, hauling you backward by your hips and wrapping one large hand around the chain between your cuffs. Pulling hard, he forces your body upright as Max settles in front of you. 

You look up through your lashes at your husband, who tangles his fingers in your hair and yanks your head back. You’re effectively suspended in the air by both men, your hips sorely rubbing against the arm of the sofa. It’s intoxicating. 

Between your kiss-bruised lips, Max watches your fangs protrude, and he tuts. 

“Gonna have to learn to control yourself, baby. Otherwise, this is gonna hurt for me.”

You swallow hard, retracting the sharp points of your teeth back into your gums. Max sings his praises by pulling out his hard cock and slapping it playfully against your cheek. Moaning his name, you begin to drool, the need to please igniting your body into action, your fuse lit from both ends. 

Behind you, a warm, hard length rests between your asscheeks, and your back arches as best it can with Tim pulling at your cuffs. “Mmm, you’re so big, Detective,” you croon. “Is it gonna fit?”

Tim tugs roughly at the cuffs, a deep noise like a growl leaving his lips. “Gonna fuckin’ make it fit.”

“Open up,” says Max, guiding his cock to the seam of your mouth. “Open, and he’ll stuff your pretty little cunt.”

You part your lips and stick out your tongue, eager to take your husband’s big cock into your mouth. He’s long, thick, ridged with veins that you could trace with your eyes closed. But he doesn't like it when you close your eyes. He wants to watch you take him. 

He pushes the tip into your hot, wet mouth, lip curling to reveal sharp teeth glinting white in the firelight. Your skin is pleasantly sticky with warmth, your mascara smudged beneath your eyes. Tim grasps the base of his cock, smearing his precum through your folds and catching on your clit. You moan around Max’s cock, letting him slide deeper down your throat at the same time the detective’s cock notches inside your cunt and begins to sink inside you. 

Tim’s free hand grabs your hip to steady himself. Fuck, you're goddamn tight—warm and wet, your greedy pussy sucks him in, wrenching open around his length. His nostrils flare with self-restraint, the Herculean task of maintaining some composure even as his entire body thrums with the need to take you, to use you like a pretty doll and relieve all his stress. 

What the fuck is happening to me? 

“She’ll let you,” says Max, and Tim has to blink hard to see the man across from him. “She’ll let you use her. She likes being treated like a cumslut. Right, honey?”

Your fingers flex, locking around Tim’s wrist, and you bob your head around Max’s cock. “Shit, that’s right,” growls your husband. “Feel that, Detective? She’s fuckin’ begging to be filled up. Don’t go easy on her; she won’t be happy.”

Tim feels the rest of you give, and his hips bump into your ass. “Fuck,” he sighs. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

The fire's embers crackle against his back. He’s where he belongs. 

His first thrust is experimental, watching the way your ass jiggles and your nails dig into his wrist, your throat contracting around Max’s cock. His second is indulgence: a slow drag out, back in, savouring the way your walls suffocate him. By the third, he’s lost control. 

He begins to fuck you hard, the momentum of his thrusts forcing Max’s cock down your throat. “Je—fuck,” spits Max, fisting your hair, transfixed by the tears brimming in your waterline, the delicious slide of his length along the walls of your hot throat. “Such a fuckin’ pro. Gonna turn me into a two-pump chump. Gonna fuckin’ embarrass me in front of our guest.”

Tim grits his teeth as he pounds you, relishing his total control over your body, bending it to his will. You're so fucking good, so sweet, and he doesn't know why he ever suspected you. 

He should turn in his badge for pointing a gun at you. 

You whine around Max’s cock when Tim grinds deep, the head of his dick kissing your cervix, your eyes rolling back in your head. He feels you shudder underneath him and does it all over again, fucking you hard, deep, mercilessly. 

You swallow Max down to the base, wiggling your tongue along the vein on his length. “Gonna fuckin’ come if you keep doing that,” he groans, but you're undeterred. You hum, the vibrations coursing through his body, and his balls pull up, emptying his cum down your throat in rhythmic pulses. 

“Fuck.” Max pulls out of your mouth just to spill the last of his cum on your bruised lips, painting you white. “That’s my fucking girl. Show me.”

You open your mouth again, tongue lolling out to proudly display his release. He rubs his thumb over your chin and spits into your mouth. 

“Now swallow.”

You do, gulping down his cum and showing him your clean tongue when you're done. Max smirks, too damn proud for his own good. “Made you cry.”

You have little room left in your head to bask in his praise. Tim is taking charge, engulfed in the ecstasy of fucking you, his hips punching hard into your ass and forcing your back to bow with the grip he maintains on the handcuffs. Your next orgasm is approaching, your clit rubbing against the arm of the sofa and sending electrical tremors to your core. 

But Max is still steel-hard despite his orgasm, watching the way your ass bounces with the force of Tim’s thrusts, your bound hands collected in a useless pile at your back, the breathy moans that leave your mouth. “Gonna need to take a break from breaking her, Detective. I want in, too.”

Some territorial part of him snaps and claws, too consumed by your body to let another man near it. Max clicks his tongue, giving Tim a dangerous smile. “Be careful, Rockford. Don’t get greedy with your treat.”

A strangled “unh” is your input, eyes shuttering as Tim reaches deep inside you again, mounting your orgasm to a foregone conclusion. Max sees the glaze drip down over your eyes, and decides to watch you come apart under a different man’s cock. “Spoiled, honey,” he mutters. “You’re spoiled.”

You come hard, joints locking and thighs squeezing Tim’s where they keep you spread apart. Your entire body jolts with electrical pulses, the pleasure coursing white-hot through your useless veins. He holds you in place, impaled on his dick, writhing around to get as much of him inside you as you possibly can. Tim grits his teeth, a faint whimper escaping his throat. The feeling of your pussy contracting around him, soaking his length, has him dizzy, close to keeling over—the scent of you, the warmth of your tight cunt, the way you coo his name and call him sir. Thank you for letting me come, sir. Fuck, sir, you feel so good inside me. Don’t leave me, sir.  

He doesn't ever want to leave this fucking house. 

Max slides his palm over your spine and you melt under it. “Come on, honey, let’s get you up. I’m in the mood to share some more.” 

You whine as Tim reluctantly pulls out, weeping precum into your used hole. He’s going to fucking die if he doesn't come soon. 

He helps you upright, kissing all the way up your spine and enjoying the soft hums of pleasure that emit from your lips. He wants to stay forever. He wants to bury himself inside you and never pull away. 

“Mmm, Detective,” you purr. “So strong.”

“Yours,” he grumbles, his plush, wet mouth feverishly tracing a path along your jaw. “‘m yours.”

“Hear that, Maxie?” You beam at your husband, threading your fingers through Tim’s behind your back. “He’s mine.”

Max grins. “Let him prove it. C’mere, honey.”

Tim walks you to the couch and helps you kneel, settling behind you. Sitting in his lap, his mouth on your throat, you watch Max approach, slowly fisting himself. He kneels, too, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit. You gasp his name, your back arching, and Tim uses the opportunity to slot himself at your entrance, sinking you down on his cock with none of the care he took the first time around. 

He’s deeper at this angle, grinding up against your front wall, absconding with any attention he had for staving off his orgasm. His teeth nip your earlobe, your jaw, one arm banding around your waist and squeezing your breast. 

In front of you, Max grips himself and continues to rub your clit with the head of his cock. You mewl like a cat, and Tim groans, burying his face in your neck. 

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he hisses, his hips bucking up into you. “Jesus, baby.”

“He’s a blasphemer,” teases Max. 

“Good,” you sigh, your head falling back onto Tim’s shoulder. The scent of leather and sweat engulfs your heightened senses, and the erratic thrum of his pulse echoes in your ears. His blood is warm, thick, rich—

Just a taste, you think, your eyes drooping at the very thought. Just one taste. I’ll be good…

Max coaxes you to another high with the pressure at your clit, but when he sees your mouth drop, he takes it away from you. You pout, petulant as ever, and Max mirrors it mockingly. 

“One dick inside you isn't good enough?” He shuffles closer, yanking your head back by your hair and kissing you hard. His tongue dips into your mouth, and your fangs begin to descend, catching his lip before he breaks away. 

Max prods his lip with his thumb and watches the blood bead, reaching out to smear the small crimson stain onto your lips. Hungrily, you lick it up, the cat with the cream, staring up at him with those faux-innocent eyes. 

He snarls, fitting the head of his cock at your already-filled entrance. “Relax.” It’s Tim's raspy voice, mouth still fixed to your throat. You sink into him, letting Max open you up wide. 

“That’s fuckin’ it, baby,” says your husband, smoothing his hand over your belly and wrenching open your hole to fit himself next to the detective. “Feel us in here?”

“Unnghhh.” Your mouth is open, your pearly fangs glinting in the dim light. Tim drags his nose up your throat and opens his eyes to study your face in the moment of pleasure. 

He barely registers the too-sharp teeth, the blackened veins crawling from your eyes. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. It's all he knows as he begins to fuck you in tandem with your husband. His body vibrates with desire. His head is static. He belongs to you. 

You’re so full. You're going to burst, and they're relentless, uncaring, caught up in the list and pheromones and perhaps the competition of seeing who can get you there first. You can only manage faint squeaks as they repeatedly take you, your body suspended, a pretty toy they get to use as they like. It’s so erotic that your cheeks burn, your core building with the pressure of another orgasm. 

So fuckin’ tight.

Such a pretty fuckin’ doll, letting us use your body.

Gonna take our cum, baby? You gonna keep it all safe inside you?

She’s coming. Looks so pretty when she comes. 

Come, pretty girl, and we’ll fill you up. Give you a nice treat.

You no longer know who’s speaking. It's all rolling around in your head, the smell of blood pounding in your skull, the temptation to turn your head to the side and taste the nectar from his throat. Your orgasm devastates you, your body quivering, both men lavishing their tongues and mouths over your skin as they continue to wreck your cunt. 

Fingers flex against your ribcage, your wrist, and Tim is coming, his teeth bared against your temple and the leather holsters on his shoulders scraping wetly against your back as he grinds into you and stays there. His hot cum pumps into you, splattering your walls and Max’s cock. His balls continue to empty inside you as your husband reaches his peak, nudging your chin upward so he can sink his teeth into your throat, gulping down your blood. 

Max’s head goes fuzzy with your taste, sweet and soft as velvet as it slides down his tongue. You moan at the feeling of his cum filling you up at the same time he depletes you of blood you don't need. They both empty themselves inside you and let your body slump against him. You hear the rustle of a key in your handcuffs and feel them release, falling to the floor. 

Max and Tim ease out of you, and you turn around to lower yourself onto Tim’s hard chest, toying with the buttons of his shirt. Behind you, Max scoops up globs of cum that have slipped out of your used hole and stuffs it back inside. 

Tim’s eyes are fixed to you, dark and gentle, his hand gently squeezing your wrists. “Did I hurt you?”

“You couldn't hurt me,” you purr, sliding your hands under his collar and threading your fingers through his tousled hair. “You're so sweet to me, Detective. So big and strong.”

He trails his fingers up your back until he can cup your face in his hands, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. “Your teeth…,” he murmurs, a vague expression of puzzlement on his face. 

“You aren’t going to take me down to the station, are you, Detective?” You curl your finger around a lock of silver hair, pouting down at him. 

“No, baby.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. “I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you. I’d never. You’re safe. Safe with me.”

You beam at him and playfully nip his nose. “You’re a good detective, Mr. Rockford. You’ll find the killer soon.”

He nods vigorously. “I will.”

“And you’ll put them away,” you say, biting your lip as you slowly unbutton his shirt. “Because you're so good.”

“I’m good,” he echoes, unable to tear his eyes from yours. His body feels limp, calm, satiated, when he's touching you this way. The job disappears. The stress disappears, the exhaustion and the malaise. Humankind is a pathology, and you are his cure. 

“Max,” you coo, resting your cheek on Tim’s chest and listening to his strong heartbeat. “I like him.”

Max hums, his knuckles gently dragging up and down your spine. “I know, baby. You wanna keep him?”

Quietly, you nod, littering kisses from his chest to his neck. You indulge in the fluttering pulse beneath his jaw. Tim smiles, sedated, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

Max nods, giving your ass a playful squeeze. “Okay, honey. Go on—ask him.”

You prop yourself up on Tim’s chest and trail your fingers through his beard. “Do you wanna stay with me?”

Tim’s brows crease. “You want me to stay?”

“Forever,” you whisper conspiratorially, your fingers drumming an eager little dance on his chest. “I’ll make you real happy. I promise.”

Tim sees the points of your canines, the veins bleeding from your darkening eyes, and feels no fear. He lets you tip his head back, baring his throat, and he lets you lick a bold stripe up his neck. My answer is yes, he thinks, and he hopes you can hear him, crawling happily down into a hell that will warm his body for eternity. 

Peace overcomes him as your eyes meet his, and your fangs sink in deep, the light slowly dimming to a faint memory. 

CASE CLOSED. 

[genericpuff]

Honestly it’s getting tiring seeing the sobbing chronically of the cast ; Hera , Demeter, Persephone and probably more . Like it’s giving big baby cry cry energy instead of idk something proactive. Not sure if It’s just me getting that from the latest chapters???

I have two schools of thought on this.

On the one hand, I can fully understand wanting to show the vulnerability of these characters, to not send a message that emotions are bad and that people should just "toughen up". This is trying to be a "feminist" piece of work after all, and much of feminism preaches vulnerability and empathy and allowing oneself to get back in touch with their own emotions, rather than shutting themselves away from them which is often perpetuated by the societal expectations and norms of toxic masculinity.

Persephone crying as she confronts Apollo - the man who she now understands assaulted her - is understandable and real. A reasonable reaction to an emotional situation that many people can empathize with.

Hera crying as she reveals the true extent of the damage Kronos caused her is understandable and real. He's quite literally been stalking her in the recesses of her mind and it's reaching a breaking point.

But on the other hand, there's a difference between wanting to show a character showing their emotions and then learning to overcome the challenges they've presented with - whether they do it independently or learn to trust in others to help them - thus growing in the process and coming out stronger on the other side vs. using a character purely for torture porn. As much as we preach concepts like "normalize crying" in a very simplified way for the sake of being easily understood, such simplifications often result in a lack of nuance.

An entirely other subject to use as a comparison point to explain this nuance - it's like the difference between having a character who's become so jaded and disconnected from the concept of empathy that even murder becomes just a menial task to them vs. murderhobos. Murderhobos are not interesting or complex or empathetic or relatable, they're just written (and in the case of where the term comes from - Dungeons & Dragons - played) for the sole purpose of having an edgy uncaring character who thinks they're free from consequences while they fuck up the lives of everyone around them in a completely irredeemable way (and is often protected from such consequences due to plot armor, unless it's in D&D, in which case you'll likely be politely asked to either change your character for the sake of the campaign or leave.)

There's nothing to gain or learn from murderhobos. They only exist for the satisfaction of an ego complex - "I don't care what you want or how it affects the people around me, I want to kill people without consequences because that's as creative as my imagination can get in my own personal fantasy."

There's nothing to gain or grow from anymore when we get another scene of Hera bleeding mascara as she cries over her situation with Kronos while still refusing to actually tell anyone what's going on with Kronos, despite the fact that we had an entire fucking therapy speak episode where she realized she needed help. So it feels like it's purely there just to play on the trope of "sad woman is saaaad, won't anyone help herrrr?" which is really starting to learn into learned helplessness.

This is especially apparent with Persephone, who, upon causing a massive problem for everyone, has taken it upon herself to shut herself away while her loved ones deal with the problem. If she needs the time to cry and process what's going on, that's fine. But while that's happening, we know mortals are dying and that she's turning the situation into a learned helplessness pity party of "I'm a monsterrr and no one likes meeee :((((" while having zero self-awareness that yeah, she did cause this problem, and her locking herself away in her literal mansion isn't exactly going to help the situation.

I've already used Tamberlane as an example of approaching the subject of learned helplessness and how it's fundamentally different from simply being vulnerable and having emotions, but I'm gonna share it again here because it's really relevant and Persephone needs someone to give her this same wake-up call.

Considering Demeter was the one to approach her at the end of the last episode, I'm hoping she'll be the one to broach the topic with her, but judging by how Rachel's treated it so far with every character reassuring her with empty platitudes that accomplish nothing but comforting Persephone over something she caused like "Noooo you're not a monster, you're the best queen ever and you're trying her best!!" (and the fact that Rachel has spent so much time turning Demeter into public enemy #1 that her readers still can't fucking give her any shred of empathy even after finding out she lost a child, fucking yikes) I'm not holding my breath that this week's episode is gonna actually have that same level of emotional maturity or growth. This is the second time in the entire comic we've seen Persephone suffer the consequences of her actions out of many that have been harmful, some accidental, others very intentional (which Rachel has even supported her doing in a very unironic sense, it's safe to say Rachel really truly does believe that Persephone is entitled to abuse people). And judging by how things went the first time, it's hard to have the benefit of the doubt and assume Persephone is gonna actually take accountability and learn and grow from this. She didn't the last time and her character has only devolved since.

Sure, feeling like you've fucked up to such a monumental degree that you'll never be able to show your face in public again is something that's real and relatable and worth crying over... but crying is an emotional response, not the actual solution. It is a PART of expressing and processing emotions, but ultimately those emotions are not actions, just REactions. Crying is okay, crying is a normal response to grief and sadness, but if you don't actually take steps forward and continue to wallow in the sadness, blame everyone else around you for it, and simultaneously rely on everyone else to carry the burden of your own actions for you, then that's when it exits the realm of healthy emotional processing and broaches the unhealthy realm of learned helplessness and emotional manipulation.

If anything, her entire monologue in the last FP episode was more about Rachel being upset over criticism of her comic and her self-insert that, like Persephone's deal with Erebus and the "plague" that followed, she earned over not addressing the issues in her work sooner and instead choosing to double down - both through Persephone's abusive behavior within the narrative and Rachel's passive aggressive meta-commentary on that abuse being okay because "she's earned the right to lash out".

The only people in this entire comic who have "earned the right to lash out" are the women that Rachel has villainized along the way in the pursuit of giving her self-insert everything without effort or sacrifice. And even then those people would still have to rightfully answer for their wrongs and grow from them - because there is no right to abuse, there is no right to harming others, especially not if the "others" you're harming are people who were victims in their own right that you turned into imaginary enemies so you could have someone to punch down at in the absence of a spine to stand up for yourself against the real perpetrators. And in doing so, Persephone herself has become a perpetrator, who sheds crocodile tears that no one is buying because the writing is on the fucking wall.

[the-black-parade-system]

Riot Grrrl!Demeter kid!Reader x Leo Valdez. They're taking somebody on a tour of camp half blood as camp counselors and the guy gets misogynistic over them not speaking much. They're normally the kind to ignore it instead but before leo could go to defend them, they kicked the guy in the balls. And everybody is just 😟.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Leo Valdez x Fem!Riot Grrl!Demeter!Reader

Summary: Some of the camp councilors are taking a handful of the new kids on a tour through camp. Y/N, head Councilor of the Demeter cabin wasn’t talking too much and the new camper Zayn decides to be a dick about it.

Warning(s): Misogyny(?), Fem reader

A/N: when I tell you I RAN to this request omg- but thanks so much! I love this idea! Sorry if this was a little short I’ve been kinda busy :) again if there are any mistakes let me know!

“And those are the cabins.,.” Will solace, head councilor of the Apollo cabin begun. The new campers watched in awe as they “ooh’d” and “ahh’d” over the cabins you’ve seen a million times before. You and your boyfriend Leo Valdez staggered along with the group, pinky’s linked together. Just walking slowly behind the group since you didn’t like to talk too much and Leo didn’t really mind. You saw the new camper, Zayn. Zayn was a child of Hypnos and from what people tell you, he was a little bit of a douchebag. At least that’s what people tell you, he couldn’t be that bad right? You tried not to think about it too much until he came up next to you and Leo.

“Hey y/n” he said as he came to your side. You gave a small smile and looked back ahead, Leo’s attention was caught by him. He tried to focus back on the tour but kept his eye on you. Zayn kept talking.

“Yknow, you should smile a lot more. Women are prettier when they smile and-“ he got cut off by you speaking up.

“Has anyone ever told you to shut the fuck up?” This caught Leo’s attention again, he was going to interfere until Zayn started to talk again.

“I’m not finished, don’t interrupt a man when he’s speaking. You should also stop wearing so much black, and so many jeans. Just stop dressing so masculine and-“ Leo spoke up, he got cutoff again. He needed it.

“Dude can you stop messing with my girlfriend?” Leo said looking over at him. Zayn just shrugged.

“Im just telling the- AH!” Zayn screamed as your boot hit his crotch and the whole group stopped to look. Leo’s eyes widened and a smile spread across his face.

“What happened?” Will asked Leo as you yelled in his face. Screaming to him about his actions. Leo whispered to him.

“He was being a misogynist.” He said still with a stupid smile. Wills mouth made an “O” shape, and he gave a nod and a face that said “well he clearly deserved that.” And then smiled and went over to Zayn. He turned back to the group of campers and cabin councilors. “I think that’s enough for today everyone, I’ll take him to the infirmary, go on!” He smiled and turned around and pulled Zayn by the ear to the infirmary as he muttered in pain. Leo went up to you and kissed your cheek.

“Great job sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Lee.”

“My cabin?”

“Sure, cmon.”

You both linked pinky’s once more and walked to his cabin.

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

Helpless part 10 (shocking that my internet hasn't given up yet)

"So Solace what exactly are we doing?"

"Down to play twenty questions?" Nico considered the offer and smirked,

"Sure." The two sat down next to each other on a log.

"Two skips each, but they get replaced with other questions."

"What's something that isn't a secret but most people don't know about you?" He was ridiculously bored and thought he could use this game to his advantage.

"I'm not actually blonde."

"Explain. Now."

"I was brunette but when I got claimed any part of my hair that was in the sun turned blonde." He pulled out a piece of his hair that wasn't normally visible, it was a light chesnut brown colour.

"Well that's shocking, you know when I asked that question that was not an answer I was expecting."

"I'm a mysterious person di Angelo, now, do you have any exes?"

"Solace I spend most of my time avoiding people."

"In hindsight that was a pretty dumb question."

"Too late, if you had to kill all the people in one cabin which one would it be?"

"Demeter. That was a bit of a violent question." He tried to play it off but his answer had been so quick and confident Nico started to wonder what had happened. "Have you ever drunk?"

"More than you would expect."

"Neeks! You're fourteen, have you ever wondered why there are age restrictions?" Nico just smirked,

"You asked Sun boy, anyways technically I'm older than that. What's the worst crime you have ever committed?"

"Love how you just assume I've committed crimes, but assult. The only reason it wasn't murder is Annabeth pulling me off."

"The fuck Solace, are you going to explain that?"

"I'd rather not, let's just say I was pretty...pissed that day."

"Well that's terrifying."

"I told you I have secrets di Angelo, who's someone you used to care about but now hate?"

"Skip."

"Is it true you liked Annabeth?"

"Really Solace? No it is not, otherwise Percy would have already murdered me."

"Had to ask, the Aphrodite cabin was trying to figure that out for two years."

"Truly incredible, can you fight with a sword?"

"Not in the slightest."

"I'm teaching you, archery will be useless in close combat. You will die in a matter of seconds ."

"You have so much confidence in me Neeks, but thanks for the offer."

"Wasn't an offer, more so a kidnapping where I teach you by force how to fight."

"Okay then...do you prefer the 1930s or now?"

"Now, better arcades."

"Great reasoning."

"What's your worst fear?"

"Pass, I would never hear the end of it."

"Can't be that bad."

"You would never shut up about it Neeks, I can guess that much." Nico locked eyes with the blonde boy, he considered the question he was about to ask.

"Do you regret coming out to all of camp?" So he did know, Will thought to himself. He didn't answer instantly but he didn't want to pass it either.

"Well, um.."

"You have skips, you don't have to answer Will." That was the first time Nico had used his actual name, Will desperately wanted to kiss him.

"I want to answer it just, thinking. I'm happy they know and I don't have to hide it but...some people aren't the nicest. Cabin four has the most for whatever reason, they seem to get joy out of making me feel like shit. Most people are nice enough, with the rest, well you get used to it." Nico grabbed his hand,

"Who. Has. Been. Giving. You. Shit? Give me a list, I will make sure they'll never do anything again."

"Neeks it's fine, I don't need you threatening them."

"I'll be doing a lot more than threats Solace, give me a list of every single person who has hurt you."

"Nico it's okay."

"Did I ask? You're a ball of sunshine, no one and I mean no one has any reason to hurt you."

"They do, there's so many people I couldn't save, I killed them. I deserve to suffer because of that, they deserve revenge on me for killing their friends." Will had tears forming in his eyes.

"Will it's not your fault they died, and either way you shouldn't have to go through this."

"Nico, are you straight?" He froze for a second, he had still been holding Will's hand but he didn't want to let go. He was warm, his thumb was stroking his hand warming up the usually freezing Ghost king. After Will had told him so much he couldn't lie, he always had a skip but part of him wanted Will to know.

"..n..no...I'm gay. Not that many people know, the seven and Reyna that's it. Please don't tell anyone." Nico shakes a bit and a few tears fell, he didn’t want to cry in front of him but he couldn’t help it. Will wrapped his free arm around Nico and pulled him closer to himself,

"Thank you for telling me, I know it's hard Neeks."

"How did you tell so many people?"

"Didn't like people assuming things, also I just...didn't want to hide I guess. Still though, I've been too scared to tell my mum, barely seen her since I'm here all year but even if I had the chance to I probably wouldn't tell her. As for the actual time well it was a while after Percy was missing, before Jason, Piper and Leo showed up, campfire, just kinda said if at the end."

"Did anyone know before that?"

"I told Annabeth first but Kayla and Austin found out by themselves pretty quickly. Who was your first crush?"

"Do not hold this against me, it was Percy." Will started grinning,

"Same, half the camp has liked him at this point I swear."

"Half of camp is pathetic."

"You're including yourself in that statement you know."

"I am fully aware, honestly I should have given up on him when I saw him talking to Annabeth the first time."

"Didn't they hate each other for a few years?"

"Hate is a strong word, I prefer to use hopelessly in love and oblivious."

"Lovely wording; I gave up when my brain started working and I realised he is straight."

"You think Percy is straight? Have you talked to him before?"

"Percy isn't straight?!"

"With the way he talked about Luke? Not a chance, and that was after he betrayed him. I can only imagine him pining over him at the age of twelve, completely oblivious, then also being hopelessly in love with Annabeth and being a helpless simp once more."

"So you are telling me Percy Jackson liked Luke Castellan, aka. the person who tried to kill him multiple times?"

"When he was twelve definitely, at least in the way he talked about what he was like before when I met him. Don't know if he realised it then, but he is not straight. You haven't seen him and Jason talk, if I didn't know how much he loved Annabeth, going to Taturus with her I would have been sure they're secretly dating."

"The more you know I guess. What's something you can do that no one knows about?"

"I can braid hair, I mean Hazel knows that but still."

"Emo Death boy can braid hair."

"Firstly, I'm not emo."

"Keep thinking that Neeks."

"Secondly, this is why I don't tell people this."

"Honestly the fact you can braid hair is adorable, also it proves that you are no where near as scary as you think."

"I could kill you right now."

"You sure about that di Angelo? Right now you can't do much without melting into a puddle of darkness, you're just a nerd that's pretending to be dark and mysterious."

"Oh shut up Solace."

"Never."

"Have you been on a quest?"

"Nope, I just try to prevent deaths after them."

"How many languages can you speak?"

"Wait give me a second, Itallian, Greek moderen and ancient, Latin, English, French, Spanish, Swedish, Portuguese, Polish, Finnish, German and Dutch. So that's twelve and a half I'm fluet in and I'm trying to teach myself Russian and Japanese." He said counting them off on his fingers

"Gods Nico, what exactly do you do with your free time?"

"Well first four are pretty obvious but Bianca taught me French and Swedish and the rest I've taught myself, writing's hell with dyslexia but I've survived. It's a pretty useful skill when you randomly show up in different countries."

"I can barely speak English properly half the time!"

"That sounds like a problem on your side Sunshine." He said messing up the blonde boys hair, Will desperately tried to hide his blushing. "Have you ever passed out because you healed too many people?"

"Yeah, happens quite a bit." Nico slapped him, not that hard but hard enough for it to hurt. "Hey what was that for?"

"You can't be overworking yourself like that Solace, you're a doctor for Zeus's sake. What help is it going to be if you pass out while healing someone?"

"It's the most effective way, plus I get more people healed."

"So let me get this straight, you risk your own health while telling people not to?"

"Okay when you put it that way-"

"Yeah it sounds bad! Please do not do that, can't have you dying on me Solace"

"I thought you were plotting to kill me anyways?"

"Exactly, can't have you dying before I kill you myself."

"Sure di Angelo, have you ever killed anyone?"

"Pass." He had become friendly with Will, he didn't need anyone else leaving him.

"Cats or dogs?"

"Do hellhounds count? I have a pet hellhound called Mrs O'Leary."

"Was that a gift from Hades?"

"Nope, from Percy."

"Wait what? I'm just going to accept that at this point."

"Good idea, I wasn't planning to explain."

"Course you weren't," Will checked his watch. "Come on Neeks, it's time for lunch, we got through ten questions each, same time tomorrow?"

"I don't have a choice do I?"

"Nope; head to the infirmary I'll get you some food."

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten for a few days, just try to eat a few bites."

"Fine.." Nico muttered before walking off to the infirmary.

***

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

Can we just talk about how incredibly insensitive and blissfully ignorant some fans are about trigger warnings for these very heavy and touchy subjects? Listen I’ve never been so disappointed in my damn life about this stuff, how are you going to read a comic about all of this heavy stuff that happens to people in real life yet also want people who’ve been affected by said topics to shut up or disengage from the comic completely. Y’all are giving this grown woman too much coddling at this point and it’s distressing, Rachel is a grown woman and it’s not like anyone forced her to put these topics into her story she understands (I hope but I say this loosely) that these discussions can be harder to experience for some people rather than others which is why trigger warnings exist and why you give your millions of fans who all come from very DIFFERING experiences than your own a trigger warning to warn them so their day won’t be demolished.

People have a right to call that shit out and if you don’t need the trigger warning good for you, stop acting like these people are insulting the comic by asking for one. It’s not like people are asking her to make a whole around the world trip in one day they are simply just asking for a damn trigger warning. I’m getting so extremely tired of Lore Olympus fans still not getting or even trying to understand this, these people understand that this comic handles serious things but just because Rachel has been “forgetting” the trigger warnings and they don’t want her allowing her fans to go head first into disturbing content doesn’t mean they want their hand held. Also, for the people saying that they should know when those scenes come up you make no sense anyways because you really can barely tell when scenes like these are coming without a trigger warning. The Demeter thing took me by surprise, so did Hera’s story, so did Demeter’s backstory, so did Hades’ shitty apology, etc. The amount of times that I got blindsided by serious topics such as those being dropped into the comic is way too fucking many to count so please don’t try and hide behind that excuse. There’s millions of fans out there who don’t expect shit like this just because you’ve been studying Lore Olympus and got down the mannerisms of the characters before something disturbing or traumatic is coming up doesn’t mean others do.

I’m sorry if I come off rash or meaner in this post I’m just extremely over this whole thing. I am a person that needs trigger warnings as well and last night I watched a video, thinking it would be funny, that ended up harming me. It was a “health” video and it was basically someone telling the viewers that regular human things happening to you is a sign of a painful death, I remember being so mortified that I felt my blood running cold and my heart pounding in my ears. If you didn’t know I’m very anxious, paranoid, and an overall hypochondriac so I don’t do well with shit like that coming up and randomly making itself known. I know many people probably wouldn’t care but I just wanted to let you guys know why trigger warnings are so useful and important to those that need them. Last night my body entered flight or fight mode just by that video alone and I was absolutely panicked, I was in so much distress and it was all because of one video. It only takes one chapter without a trigger warning to trigger worser things than that and we should all be mindful of that fact.

Again, sorry if all of this is aggressive or mean I didn’t mean anything by it I just wish that fans did better. It’s sad seeing them put down others for genuine concerns and it’s even sadder that Rachel does not do anything about it. There’s only so much toxic positivity you can fill up before there’s no real community left and there’s way too many fans who deserve at least a trigger warning with these things it really doesn’t take long to make and it could genuinely save people from these experiences such as mine.

Moral of the story is if you don’t need trigger warnings don’t bag on people who do, they’re not sensitive you just don’t share the same experiences as them and you don’t know what their background is at all. Be mindful that everyone isn’t you, respectfully.

[justmenoworries]

Lore Olympus Episode 254 Spoilers

So, Apollo succesfully poisoned Zeus and, through a series of extremely convenient coincidences, has managed to get Eros and Psyche, the only two deities who know it was him, out of the way for now.

Does he...

A) ...keep away from the scene of the crime, so as to not be associated or draw suspicion onto himself

B) ...pretend to not know what Zeus is afflicted with and call emergency services together with Hebe to feign being a worried son so that he's less likely to be suspected by the authorities

or C) ...unecessarily frame someone else with no solid evidence whatsoever and call not medical services or the police, but the media, in the process getting as many eyes on him as possible which is the last thing a murderer should want?

If you picked anything other than C), congratulations.

Not only do you still have some good faith left for this comic, you're also a better writer than RS. (Not that the last one is a high bar to cross.)

So Apollo wants to frame someone else for his crime. Well luckily for him, there is already an established deity among the cast who doesn't get along with Zeus, has expressed the desire to overthrow him multiple times and is known for having a bad temper as well as having a grudge against hi-

It's Hebe.

He chooses to frame Hebe.

You know, one of the few gods on Olympus who has absolutely no reason to want Zeus dead and gone.

Just... why?

Ares was right fucking there!

If you absolutely needed to frame someone (which, just as a side note, you absolutely didn't) why not choose the war deity who everyone knows gets regularly banished to the Mortal Relam because of how much he doesn't get along with Zeus???

I mean, the best explanation I can think of is that this is supposed to reference how Hebe lost her position as cupbearer of the gods because of Apollo in one version of the myths, but if that is the case... wow, that's an extremely contrived and clumsy way to incorporate that into LO.

So, Persephone's deal with Erebus somehow altered her powers and now she can no longer make plants grow and only causes cold and decay whenever she tries.

And the winter that was essentially Demeter's power play in the original myth is now not only given to Persie but made into a terrible consequence of wanting power for herself. To save everybody she loved, might I add.

So empowering.

So feminist.

And as always when Persie screws up, she does what she does best:

Cry foul and beg someone else to fix it, then throw a tantrum when said someone else actually does try just that.

RS really misses no chance to try and villainize Demeter. Even if Demeter is absolutely, completely, undeniably in the right, she always has to be the eeevil mother-in-law making Hades feel bad.

And that's no different here.

Demeter is right, this is Hades' fault.

If he'd kept his damn mouth shut about the pomegranates or at least elaborated on the price one has to pay to get the Underworld's power, maybe his noveau riche wife wouldn't currently be killing all life in the Mortal Realm.

And the way he doesn't even try to dissuade Persie from "helping" and just watches as she keeps making everything worse because "lulz, I'm not gonna be a controlling husband and stop my wife from killing people".

But hey, this is the same guy who rewarded Persie with sex for breaking and entering and making death threats against a nymph. At least we're keeping it in-character. /s

Oh look, Persie has conveniently passed out from the strain so she won't have to deal with the direct consequences of her actions.

Wonder what kind of deus ex machina will absolve her of all responsibility this time.

[pinklikeroses]

LO 211

Okay

There’s a lot to unpack here…..

It was nice seeing Persephone and Demeter finally reunite after all this time, but it’s really fucked up how persephone forgot about her mom for 2-3days???

I know some ppl were upset about Demeter’s reaction to seeing Hades and persephone together, but keep in mind she’s been out of the loop and has no idea why her daughter is in the underworld in the first place

Demeter giving persephone praise for her work in the underworld was sweet. She’s proud of her daughter and shows recognition with her accomplishments…however, not once does persephone ask about Demeter’s experience

She doesn’t show any curiosity about what her mother went through in the past 10yrs. How it affected her, if she struggled, how she adjusted to aging and being powerless….

Hades being scared shitless says a lot. This isn’t a man who had any intentions of owning up to treating her like shit in the past. This is a man who’s scared about having his “girlfriend” taken away to the mortal realm.

Ppl applauding hades for staying silent the whole time need to shut up. That was the bare minimum, the bar is in hell I tell u. He’s supposed to shut the hell up and let persephone talk to her mom.

Also him dropping the tea and his eye turning red?? What a drama king calm the fuck down.

Persephone doesn’t bother to explain everything that happened or why she’s in the underworld in the first place. Only that’s she’s “in love” or whatever. Battle with Kronos?? Nope, that everyone was in a coma?? Nope, that she abandoned her responsibilities to the mortal realm and left the flower nymphs to fend for themselves of Zeus came back and saw her gone??? Nope.

She doesn’t bother to tell her mother the anything from the time of her trial to now, ppl liked this bc they believed it was her setting healthy boundaries.

When really she was being mad vague, not bothering to explain anything, she should’ve told her mom she ate the pomegranate at the beginning. That way Demeter would know even if she wanted to go to the mortal realm, persephone is still tied to the underworld.

Instead Persephone is dismissive of her mothers feelings and concerns, while defending a man she only knew for a month or two and after 10 mcfucking years decides she still “in love” with him and wants to stay with him even though They still barely know each other. And haven’t caught up on anything.

Finally the good part:

Demeter calling out Hades

*mic drop*

Idc what anyone says Demeter is 100% right.

Part of this is bc of her perspective of hades from how he treated her. And throughout the comic we see him mistreat lower class citizens and his own employees. He knew lusting after persephone was wrong but perused her anyway whilst in a relationship. With a woman he almost proposed to!

He can’t go five seconds without overly sexualizing her, white knights himself constantly, self deprecating himself constantly, pressured persephone into telling him she was assaulted, got so mad she had to comfort him. Made her experience about him by saying he felt useless to her.

Took out a man’s eyeball without her consent, called her a hypocrite for “tarnishing his representation”! For what? Giving coins to shades who didn’t have any?!!!

Lied to her face about being in a relationship, had an affair with his brother’s wife, and of course the fact that he’s her boss and the uncomfortable power dynamic between them, he’d constantly dismissing persephone when she brings this up. Stating he can’t always do whatever he wants when he can!!! He’s a fucking king! That’s the problem!

A lot of ppl mistook Demeter saying “ perhaps you intend to keep her like one of your Diamonds—sparking and useless”

Demeter DOES NOT SEE Persephone as useless. She’s has her daughter assist her with the mortal realm. Gave her jobs to do and kept her busy with school.

She does however see the way has been treated by Zeus. And fears the same fate will befall her daughter if she’s with Hades.

Hera is dismissed, gaslit, belittled, and cheated on constantly. Her husband doesn’t take her seriously and pushes her opinions and concerns to the side. He only say saw her as a beautiful trophy to have and put on display, bribed her to be queen of the gods.

Yet she’s a depressed alcoholic who feels she’s less than and is down on herself.

Hades also is far too reliant on persephone for emotional support,he sees her as his happiness, as savior, which is unhealthy and toxic. A 2000 yr old gos should not be relying on a young woman this way. Especially someone as young as persephone.

Demeter’s concerns are valid, the points she made are valid. She’s looking out for her daughter as a mom should. And I’m proud of her, I knew she was gonna get demonized for this bc that’s just how LO is.

Persephone is 30yrs old, but just bc you’re an adult doesn’t mean ppl can’t express their thoughts on your relationships and well being especially if they’re family members

Anyway it’s clear to see this is how the 6months of time is going to come into play.

Also I’m happy for minthe and that she’s living her best life

[dracothulhu]

Everyone saying “just check the boxes!”

Why, what exactly would they be expecting to find. Remember of course that none of the crew of the Demeter (other than possibly the first mate, but he’s not sharing information so he doesn’t count anyway) know that they’re in a gothic horror novel. Unlike Jonathan, they didn’t even meet Dracula - all they know is they’re transporting a cargo of sealed boxes, which they may or may not know are full of dirt (but they certainly know they’re full of something with the handling properties of dirt, they would have been part of the loading).

If the killer is stowed away in one of the boxes... how’s he getting out? They’re sealed, with nails, and it’s pretty difficult to pry apart nailed-together wood with your bare hands even with good leverage (which you’re not going to get inside a coffin-sized box). But maybe he has a prybar or whatever, and managed to struggle through enough to crack that sucker open from inside and get loose. Now how’s he going to get back in there AND fix the lid back on? I’ve never tried to nail a crate shut from inside before - seems pretty difficult if I do say so myself! There’s also the issue that a person hiding in a mass of dirt would logically be trailing it everywhere they go - and yet the crew hasn’t found anything such as that.

But oh, maybe the bodies are actually being stashed in the boxes. Except why would the killer do that? It’s almost like they’re surrounded by the single largest continuous geographical feature on the planet, which is in turn basically unsearchable by people of their means - the perfect dumping zone is off the ship. Finally, I’m not sure how many of you have ever done woodwork or joinery, but driving and prying nails is both slow and approximately the loudest goddamn thing you can do without power tools. Jonathan heard the boxes being nailed shut from his room and around several corners of sound-dampening stone - the sailors on a boat with much thinner walls and who are keeping their eyes peeled and ears pricked for suspicious activity are going to notice. Prying joined wood apart also tends to fuck up both the wood and the nails pretty noticeably - by some miracle or the missed the sound, a pried-open and resealed box would be pretty obvious.  As far as any of them can reasonably be expected to know, there’s no way to get into or out of those boxes that they wouldn’t have noticed, it’s just that they’re dealing with Fucking Dracula.

This is a whole lot of words to say “stop focusing on the boxes, by any logical standard they shouldn’t matter, the Demeter crew can’t be expected to account for a guy who can turn into mist on command.” 

[your-local-grinning-cat]

((So Mod! Who is your favorite Greek God/Goddess~?))

AR: …please… please don’t do this to me it’s 3:24am I need to sleep. Che’nya. Che’nya save me I’m gonna be here all night I just hyperfixated for literally an hour providing links to books for @brokensenseofhumor when they in no way asked for that. Do something.

Che’nya: 0_0 *juggles* Like this???????????

AR: CHE’NYA PLEASE!!! I’M GOING TO START TALKING ABOUT HERMES AND AMAZING HE IS AND HOW MUCH I LOVE HIM AND HOW HE IS THE THE GOD THAT IS IN THE MOST GREEK MYTHS HE IS LITERALLY EVERYWHERE OMFG AND HE IS SO CLEVER AND SMART AND SASSY AND MISCHIEVOUS NO I DON’T HAVE A TYPE SHUT UP AND THAT WILL LEAD TO TALKING ABOUT DIONYSUS AND APOLLO BECAUSE I HEADCANON THEM AS THE THREE STOOGES AS DUMB AND DUMBER AND DUMBEST AND I LOVE THEM AND THEN ARTEMIS BECAUSE I CAN’T MENTION APOLLO WITHOUT HIS BADASS TWIN AND I FUCKING CAN’T FORGET HADES, ZEUS, AND POSEIDON AND YES IT’S ALL THREE OF THEM BECAUSE I HATE THAT PEOPLE CAN OVERLOOK HADES’S “RAPE OF PERSEPHONE” MYTH AND REWRITE IT AND BE FINE WITH HIM BUT NOT DO THE SAME AND SEE HOW COOL ZEUS AND POSEIDON ARE AND HESTIA BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK WHY DO PEOPLE FORGET ABOUT HER SHE DESERVES ATTENTION TOO AND SPEAKING OF ATTENTION WHY DOES NOT ONE TALK ABOUT HOW APHRODITE LITERALLY HAS A SECONDARY FORM WITH A PENIS SHE IS NOT JUST ABOUT FEMALES LOVE IS LOVE GENDER IS A MANMADE CONSTRUCT APHRODITE IS LGBT+ AND TRANS POSITIVE AND HER HUSBAND HEPHESTUS CAN ABSOLUTELY BE DEPICTED WITH PROSTHETICS OR MOBILITY AIDS HOW FUCKING COOL IS THAT THAT HE CAN BE CONSIDERED THE GOD OF THAT KIND OF REPRESENTATION AND HERA IS SO DAMN MISUNDERSTOOD I WANT TO SCREAM AND SO IS DEMETER AND ARES TO BE HONEST LIKE WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE AND THAT’S NOT EVEN touching THE MINOR GODS -

Che’nya: oh shIT - *quickly shatters a teapot over their head, knocking them out cold*

Che’nya: Heh… oh yeah… they’re tired. I shouldn’t have teased them. *looks up at you* Note to… everyone. AR hyperfocuses very easily and turns more… me when they get tired. Oopsie! My bad.

Funnily enough, it is now 3:42am, instead of 3:24am. I find that very pleasing. *looks down at AR* I don’t think they will though.

I think it’s time your local grinning cat and his human vacated the Wood… I don’t think AR can take any more of this *chuckles*

But maybe you got your answer somewhere in all that ramble? *shrugs before dragging off AR deeper into the darkness and disappearing*

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Welcome!

Thank you for visiting my pile of drabbles, questionable fanarts and weird headcanons. For your convenience and my absolute inconvenience, I prepared a list of links for what you can find here that I will attempt to keep updated. Let’s see how that goes... 

(M) stands for mature content, please be wary of that. 

I am always grateful for comments, tiny messages in reblogs and asks. I also take asks and prompts! Talk to me, I don’t bite.

Stranger Things

General fanfiction: Love Is / Unlikely But Welcome (with Steddie at the end) / Alone on Christmas / The Least We Could Do  Headcanons: Dustin and Steve Summer 1985 / Murray on Steve / Eleven and One / Eleven and Henry / Dustin’s rebellion / Bob and Eddie / Eddie’s self-sabotage / Eddie’s dealing / Vecna’s victims  Steddie drabbles and fanfiction: The Freak With the Plan / Sticky notes / Safe and Sound / Take It Back / On compliments / Not a liar / On expectations / Like You Like Me (Steddie Halloween) / Sing for me Baby / Give and Take / Guilty Pleasure / Doesn't It Make You Mad? / Music To My Ears / Steve's road to bisexuality / Only Ours / Home Sweet Home / On Hair / Heaven Can Wait / Banished (1) (2) (3) / Lonely Times / Everything Has Its Price / Two For One / Second Time’s The Charm / Everyone’s A Critic / Talk Dirty To Me / No / My Kind of Perfect / Steve as CC mascot / Steddie vacation / Play It Out (1) / Not a Single Thing / Rips in Eddie’s jeans / No Such Thing As Stupid Question / Not Getting Married / Corroded Coffin costumes / The interview /  Steddie series Piece by Piece: Halfway Happy / Healing Touch (M) Steddie headcanons: 1st wedding song / On outward personalities (with @thefreakandthehair) / On garden gnomes (with @corrodedcoughin) / On Steve and Eddie's lawn (with @corrodedcoughin) / Steve painting Eddie's nails / Love Languages / Vouchers / Wrong item / Flour fights / Kiss in rain /  Trauma drabbles and fanfics: On Grief / Of Ghosts and the Living / A Deal With God / When Steve dies (with @stevesbipanic) / Unforgiven / Tapes (addition to @stevesbipanic) / With The Last Rays of Setting Sun (addition to @strawberryspence) / Murderer (with @stevesbipanic) / No body / Reputation / The only choice / Suffer in silence / The last time loop / If you die, I die / Nancy’s time loop Alternate Universe (AU): Corpse Groom / Superhero (1) / Seasons / College newspaper / Fake demon summoning / Stranger Brigade / Haunted / What We Do In The Shadows / Batman Steve / Into The Woods (1) / Batman and Catman (with @stevesbipanic) / Scoops Eddie / Made In Your Image (mythology AU, 1) / YouTuber AU / Pirates of the Caribbean AU / Nightmare Before Christmas AU (1) / X-Files / Glasses model Steve / Actor AU Crack: Wine and Dine / How to draw away demobats / Why Eddie wasn't in season 1 / Flesh Wound and Not Ideal / Fruity Four on phone / Steddie never fight / When Eddie shuts up / Guess what / Interested in me? / Cleaning / Sugar / The Adventures of Kas/Eddie and Vecna / Fuck / He’s dead / Cleaning 2 / Proposal / Counting sheep  Spooky Steddie Writober: Bewitching Garden / Cursed Carnival Fanart: Not Ideal / Seasons AU / Steddie Halloween / Mythology AU / Cursed Spicy Six baubles / Nightmare Before Christmas AU / Eddie as a witch / Steve watercolor markers attempt  Strangetember (my pre-Inktober) Stranger Things inspired makeup: Upside-Down Eddie / Steve Harrington Writing prompts: The dumbest thing / Teach me? / Could they have loved me Steddie/ST song recs: Hell On Earth / Hallowed Be Thy Name / All of Me  Fruity Four Advent Calendar

Steddie 2023 playlist challenge here! 

Cats the Musical

Original characters: Sofia (Smudge) Tuggoffelees fanfiction: Never Enough / On Hair and Uneven Distribution of Work A Night to Remember (circus AU): Prologue / The Gifts / The Magician and the Dancer / One of Us / A Late Visit / Persuasion / The Company Fanart: Jemima / Mistoffelees tarot card / Misto ink  Cats-inspired makeup: Misto / Misto 2 / Bombalurina / Demeter

Good Omens

Ineffable husbands fanfiction: On Ducks and Things That Shouldn't Be

[0lympian-c0uncil]

May I ask for some Poseidon hcs? Pls? Idc with what, anything on the brain tbh /gen

You can ignore this if u want

WELL NOW I'M GONNA ANSWER IT SO HA!!!

He is the baby of the big six.

When he was younger he would play tricks on Demeter and Hestia.

Soon Hera joined in and they were a ruthless duo.

Demeter calls him her little dolphin king, and he loves it

He has the most beautiful sideburns. And he prides himself on them.

He is a bisexual mess.

When he’s feeling lonely he will go down to the underworld and spend time with Hades and sometimes Demeter will join in cause she’s around.

Him and Hera are little gremlins to their older siblings.

Zeus and Poseidon are the og Bros. they just are and you can’t convince me otherwise.

One time Poseidon witnessed Demeter having a sensory overload during a fight between the gods.

His first instinct was to tell the other gods to shut the fuck up, he then ran over to her and tried to calm her down, and asked her what she needed.

Once she told him he told Hestia to take Demeter to her room and then told the other gods that they needed to be either quiet and helpful. (They chose helpful)

When Demeter felt better Poseidon and Hestia stayed with her and kept her company until she fell asleep.

Poseidon has really bad ADHD

Him and Apollo are really close especially after their punishment from trying to overthrow Zeus.

He sleeps with a 8 ft tall Dolphin plushie.

When He saw his siblings getting tattoos he wanted one too, but when he got it he spent the entire time crying while holding Hestia’s hand and Zeus holding down his arm. (He told them to do this)

Him and Athena have a very petty relationship with each other and it is so funny.

At times he will convince his siblings to have sleepovers and it usually ends with them is a sleep pile with Poseidon in the middle

[w0rped-moss]

What's the Hades game about

Hades game is about Zagreus, the son of Hades and prince of the underworld trying to escape from the underworld to meet his mother, Persephone. Along the way, he is aided by Athena, Aphrodite, Artemis, Zeus, Poseidon, Ares, Demeter, Dionysus, and Hermes, who believe he's coming to join them on Olympus. His teacher is Achilles, who you can help get back together with Patroclus, and he meets many other people in his journeys. Hypnos, Sleep Incarnate, who is the guy who greets everyone who enters the house of Hades, Thanatos, Death Incarnate, who helps him when he's struggling, the Furies: Megaera, Tisiphone, and Alecto, Sisyphus and his boulder Bouldy, Orpheus and Eurydice, Nyx (Zagreus's surrogate mother), Dusa, the gorgon maid of the house of hades, Charon, the boatman who sells Zagreus things, Theseus and Asterius, the champions of Elysium, Cerebus (the three headed dog), and Chaos, the primordial deity of greek mythology.

i love it so much also zagreus is polyamorous and bisexual and has never shuts the fuck up disease

[cheesewelsom]

My other percy jackson AU where the siblings have children.. all of them

Terra - daughter of demeter talking to a flat earther and someone who believes the moon is a disk.

Terra : okay, so you believe the moon is a disk? Like those CDs right?

Perl, who believes in said topic because he was brought up by an idiot : yes..

Terra : okay, good, good. So the first man to land on the moon we saw the moon.. be round right?

Perl :... photoshop.

Terra : hear me out. if the moon was a disk, how the fuck did the Astronaut land the rocket? More or less be standing, he must be walking on a fucking tight rope.

Terra : photoshop wasn't created then, dumbass. How can the moon be round and have space for a rocker if it's a thin disk??

Perl : because it's a sphere

Terra : THERE IT IS! THE RIGHT ANSWER, THE RIGHT ANSWER!! fucking yeah! He answered a circle!

Perl : a sphere isn't a circle.

Terra :...

Terra : at what lengths would it give you to just shut up and think, what do you think is a sphere!?

Perl : those circle thingies with long bodies.

Terra :.. those are CYLINDERS!!! CYLINDERS CREATED BY ARCHIMEDES!! HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT KNOW YOUR OWN GEOGRAPHY!? YOUR HISTORICAL GEOGRAPHY!?

terra currently screaming her guts out and the treat watching.

A blond boy with blue eyes recording the whole thing : this is your fault for recording me you mother fucker.

A boy with red hair and purple eyes : isn't that a bit too much

The son of hades : it's not enough.

The son of Posidon : it's never enough is it?

The blond son of hades : never.

The red haired son of Posidon, passes the camera stand : here you go.

Blond boy, son of hades : she's going to regret Everything.

Son of Posidon, whispering :.. but she loves drama?