#I have no coins to read further

[duchess-of-mischief]

I may be going a little insane

[spoonbenders]

the fact that i like scott pilgrim at all is very funny 2 me cuz in most cases if u make me read abt relationship drama in any capacity i get so fucking mad i start hurting myself in real life

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Things I look for in history books:

🟩 Green flags - probably solid 🟩

Has the book been published recently? Old books can still be useful, but it's good to have more current scholarship when you can.

The author is either a historian (usually a professor somewhere), or in a closely related field. Or if not, they clearly state that they are not a historian, and encourage you to check out more scholarly sources as well.

The author cites their sources often. Not just in the bibliography, I mean footnotes/endnotes at least a few times per page, so you can tell where specific ideas came from. (Introductions and conclusions don't need so many citations.)

They include both ancient and recent sources.

They talk about archaeology, coins and other physical items, not just book sources.

They talk about the gaps in our knowledge, and where historians disagree.

They talk about how historians' views have evolved over time. Including biases like sexism, Eurocentrism, biased source materials, and how each generation's current events influenced their views of history.

The author clearly distinguishes between what's in the historical record, versus what the author thinks or speculates. You should be able to tell what's evidence, and what's just their opinion.

(I personally like authors who are opinionated, and self-aware enough to acknowledge when they're being biased, more than those who try to be perfectly objective. The book is usually more fun that way. But that's just my personal taste.)

Extra special green flag if the author talks about scholars who disagree with their perspective and shows the reader where they can read those other viewpoints.

There's a "further reading" section where they recommend books and articles to learn more.

🟨 Yellow flags - be cautious, and check the book against more reliable ones 🟨

No citations or references, or references only listed at the end of a chapter or book.

The author is not a historian, classicist or in a related field, and does not make this clear in the text.

When you look up the book, you don't find any other historians recommending or citing it, and it's not because the book is very new.

Ancient sources like Suetonius are taken at face value, without considering those sources' bias or historical context.

You spot errors the author or editor really should've caught.

🟥 Red flags - beware of propaganda or bullshit 🟥

The author has a politically charged career (e.g. controversial radio host, politician or activist) and historical figures in the book seem to fit the same political paradigm the author uses for current events.

Most historians think the book is crap.

Historical figures portrayed as entirely heroic or villainous.

Historical peoples are portrayed as generally stupid, dirty, or uncaring.

The author romanticizes history or argues there has been a "cultural decline" since then. Author may seem weirdly angry or bitter about modern culture considering that this is supposed to be a history book.

The author treats "moral decline" or "degeneracy" as actual cultural forces that shape history. These and the previous point are often reactionary dogwhistles.

The author attributes complex problems to a single bad group of people. This, too, is often a cover for conspiracy theories, xenophobia, antisemitism, or other reactionary thinking. It can happen with both left-wing and right-wing authors. Real history is the product of many interacting forces, even random chance.

The author attempts to justify awful things like genocide, imperialism, slavery, or rape. Explaining why they happened is fine, but trying to present them as good or "not that bad" is a problem.

Stereotypes for an entire nation or culture's personality and values. While some generalizations may be unavoidable when you have limited space to explain something, groups of people should not be treated as monoliths.

The author seems to project modern politics onto much earlier eras. Sometimes, mentioning a few similarities can help illustrate a point, but the author should also point out the limits of those parallels. Assigning historical figures to modern political ideologies is usually misleading, and at worst, it can be outright propaganda.

Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. "Big theory" books like Guns, Germs and Steel often resort to cherry-picking and making errors because it's incredibly hard for one author to understand all the relevant evidence. Others, like 1421, may attempt to overturn the historical consensus but end up misusing some very sparse or ambiguous data. Look up historians' reviews to see if there's anything in books like this, or if they've been discredited.

There are severe factual errors like Roman emperors being placed out of order, Cleopatra building the pyramids, or an army winning a battle it actually lost.

When in doubt, my favorite trick is to try to read two books on the same subject, by two authors with different views. By comparing where they agree and disagree, you can more easily overcome their biases, and get a fuller picture.

(Disclaimer - I'm not a historian or literary analyst; these are just my personal rules of thumb. But I figured they might be handy for others trying to evaluate books. Feel free to add points you think I missed or got wrong.)

[moonsaver]

The Care Package II

Got your first, shiny new gacha character you were working oh-so-hard to get? That's great! Don't know how to care for it? No worries! This guide will have you covered!

-

Summary: not doing this, its in part 1 here, this post has Aventurine and Sunday. The previous one has Dr. Ratio and Argenti. Have fun reading !

-

The Gem-Deluxe Package

You receive a lavishly decorated box at your mail! It is covered in jewels and black ribbon, and similarly to the Red Rose Package, users may experience difficulty in unboxing Aventurine from his gift box. Please watch this tutorial in case you are unable to do so aswell.

The gift box is lined with a soft material, and several, smaller layers that act as a makeshift bed for your sleeping Aventurine. Please let your Aventurine wake up on his own accord, or you may halt his growth process from Beginner to Intermediate by communicating urgency if you wake him up too soon. When Aventurine wakes up, he will make his presence known very well, and he will naturally call out to you regardless of wherever you are and whatever you are doing.

Aventurine comes with a unique combination of accessories that are specific to each model – thus a specific user manual is provided for each of his items. You may receive either one of the following SSR items; Gold Coin [I], Pack of gold Cards [I], Small Aventurine Stone [II], Teal Peacock Earring [I]. Please note you may only be able to request another copy with your specific user manual when you open the package - if you are unable to find it, search Aventurine's pillow or ask him about it. Some users express their delight at Aventurine's tricks of hiding certain things, but it is advisable to warn him of certain valuable items before he hides them to entertain his user.

Aventurine may seem as though he does not mind being picked up in any way, however, he wishes to be held with great care. Please hold out both of your hands so he may feel cared for, and wait for him to feel comfortable enough to climb onto your hands. Aventurine may tell you it doesn't matter, but it is advisable to take great care and consideration of his emotional and mental wellbeing regarding your actions towards him.

Beginner Aventurine enjoys enclosures that are bright with natural light and open, but also safe and guarded well. You may keep him near your windows, on your bed, or any designated spot where he is free to explore that is well-illuminated. However, if he is picked up in the middle of his exploration process, he may whine and sarcastically compliment your furniture.

Beginner Aventurine is more personally closed off, so users are advised to be patient. He is, however, comforted by the sight of beautiful jewels, a comfortable bed, and warm food [Please refer to Care Package for accessories, especially regarding jewels. You do not need to buy real diamonds to impress Aventurine.].

The longest stage is the Beginner stage, so users may not be pleased with the delay in level up when it comes to Aventurine. He is not comfortably accustomed to change. It is advised he grows according to the rate he deems fit. However, the new Companion Feature allows Aventurine to interact with Dr. Veritas Ratio, and Aventurine's level up may be encouraged further if he witnesses Veritas Ratio level up, or receive his advice and help. Users are advised to supervise their interactions closely, as Intermediate Aventurine and Advanced Veritas Ratio are prone to petty arguments.

Intermediate Aventurine shows not much difference with the later stages of Beginner Aventurine, however, he may start interacting more openly with his user. He will frequent your personal space, initiate more friendly conversations and become inquisitive about your personal life – please tell him all about your Friends and Family. Aventurine feels closer to people the more he knows about their personal relationships. Users are also encouraged to compliment Aventurine whenever he decides to explore an area he tends to avoid – this will level up Aventurine's premature skill “Lost and Found [I]” to “Observe and Retrieve [II]”. Aventurine may find objects of precious value to user that may have been lost before, and will help the user find misplaced items with greater ease. It also supports the continual growth until he reaches Advanced level.

At the Advanced Level, Aventurine finds it very easy to accustom to User's routine. His skill may also level up from “Observe and Retrieve [II]” to “Initiate and Succeed [III]”. Advanced Aventurine will be more open to user and relay his personal feelings without hesitance. He may also choose to be called Kakavasha at this stage [Our users are informed that Kakavasha was the name of the previous model Aventurine is currently based upon,and to not fear any errors]. Aventurine at this stage may grow exponentially overnight depending on how deep the bond between him and his user is. If you reach a close bond level, Aventurine grows up to a size of 5’6-5’7 overnight, and delight in his own growth. Users are advised to prepare in advance once Aventurine reaches Intermediate stage.

Congratulations! You now have a full grown Aventurine, who may choose to go by Kakavasha in private. Aventurine is extremely skilful in managing the user's finances and personal relationships, offering advice and deciphering actions of others around his user. However, Aventurine is prone to safeguarding seemingly invaluable things, such as handwritten notes, old jewelry the user may have wanted to discard, and frequently visits the user's personal space. Aventurine, however open he may be, still hides some of his personal feelings. Users are advised to be comforting and patient with Aventurine, and oblige with his unsure nature regarding trust and belongings. Aventurine is prone to Neglect [IV], and users are heavily warned to never ignore Aventurine, especially in times of need or when quarrels occur. You may comfort him during your busy schedule by offering him handwritten notes of small reassurance, or provide him with the Gold Card Pack provided within the Care Package.

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The Raven Package

The box is very fragile, and contains many pieces of accessories, so please do not shake it. It is light blue in colour, and is adorned with a small golden brooch the user may keep as a decorative piece. Inside, you receive a transparent box encasing a sleeping Sunday, and a plethora of neatly arranged accessories beside him. Please handle it with great care.

Sunday does not mind being woken up, but he will be displeased if you let him sleep too much. You may use the clockie accessory to wake Sunday up at an appointed time.

Handle Sunday with dignity! Users are advised to not haphazardly hold Sunday, he holds himself in high regard and does not like being carried with impropriety. However, users may occasionally hold Sunday by the back of his collar like the scrunch of a kitten, for short durations of time.

Beginner Sunday requires a well-organised area with neat schedules and planners. He prefers yellow-lighting and if the user has a study lamp, Sunday may occasionally nap under it. He is open to talking but will maintain an ample distance with his user; but do not be discouraged. Beginner Sunday may become more open if the user manages to help him to their haircare products and share tips on preening his wings.

Intermediate Sunday is a bit difficult to deal with, according to user experiences. Sunday may demand more attention and become more meticulous with manner and speech. He may advise the user in their appearance and presentation. However, Sunday does not mean ill. He is simply trying to help his user. If the user becomes agitated due to his constant advice and expresses their feelings, Sunday may enter Sulking [II], and hide in his gift box. You may comfort your Sunday by arranging his accessories Conference Table Prop 2, Office Chair (8), and Sandpit Prop 1, Musical Instrument Violin Prop 2 and Documents Prop, and asking him to check the current layout which will lure Sunday out of Sulking and into Curiosity.

Intermediate Sunday may experience difficulty reaching the Advanced level, so we advise users to be more supportive during this stage. Sunday may act irrationally or out of character, and pace around in a space, supervise you constantly, meticulously manage seemingly insignificant things, and try to manage things by himself, which will leave him prone to Overworking [II] and Exhaustion [I]. You may comfort Sunday by offering reassurances and feeding him small, sliced strawberries, or sweets.

Advanced Sunday becomes much easier to handle. Sunday will become self-sufficient and engage in many conversations, mainly pertaining to your duties and responsibilities and help you become more efficient at them. Sunday specialises in Planning [II] which greatly supports the skill Initiate and Succeed [I]. He will also greatly help the user form connections and relationships, giving them social advice. However, at this stage, Sunday is also prone to Overworking [III] and Loneliness [I], which affects him in a greater degree than Intermediate Sunday. The user has to directly engage with Sunday and lure him out of work actively, and provide long hours of company.

Congratulations! You now have a full-grown Sunday. He may grow up to 5’6-5’7, and does not require much maintenance. You may request a copy of accustomed accessories with the appropriate specific manual provided in the care package. Sunday's Companion Feature works greatly with Robin, and it creates more resistance to Overworking [II], [III] and Loneliness [I], and helps him feel less lonely. However, users are warned to not use this Companion feature with Aventurine or Dr. Veritas Ratio, as it may create animosity between them and stunt Sunday's growth, along with weakening his resistance to Overworking [III] and deleveling his skill, Planning [II] to Planning [I].

[pxuvalentinx]

tags: aventurine x fem reader, nsfw, f!ngering, tiny degradation, fake empathy, edging, hand fetish‼️

a/n: i’m so sorry omgg, i’ve been so busy and tbh also not really motivated to finish any of my drafts. but to feed my starved children (you all) i cooked up some quick aven smut (in the span of 20 minutes). i got one more aven fic in my drafts but it’s kinda a fail ngl, it’s basically the pt2 to the aventurine gunplay thingie i wrote. so do let me know if you’d like to read that😭😭 as always, reqs are open🫶

Aventurine, one of the most talented men when it came to coin tricks. He’d always try to impress you with them, showing you how easily the coin would move from left to right and right to left, slipping so smoothly in between his gloved fingers. And you had to admit, it was indeed very impressive. You tried it once or twice, but without success. Aventurine would always just grin at you, talking about how your little hands just aren’t as talented as his. It would make you slightly pout, asking him to teach you, but he would just turn it down, saying he’d teach you another time.

You loved his hands anyway, slim and long fingers, short nails and a soft palm — whenever he wasn’t wearing those gloves at least. If he was, rings would decorate his hands even more, the gold shining and sparkling as he pushed your hips down. His fingers were hidden in your cunt, curling and thrusting. He didn’t even take off his glove before practically shoving his hand inside you, the fabric feeling rough and soft at the same time, creating a whole new sensation.

He’d always comment on how wet your pussy is, on how nicely it squeezes around his fingers, on how stupidly easy you go dumb only from his hand. Aventurine’s thumb was on your clit, pressing down on it whenever his fingers thrusted into you. The poor people in the hotel room next to you, having to hear your stupid cries and pleas for mercy all night long, all because Aventurine was just a little too talented with his hands.

He fucking loved bringing you to the edge just to deny you again, showing fake empathy. “Poor thing..Let’s try again, shall we?” His pants felt way too tight at this exact moment, watching you beg and beg and beg, while your cunt ruins his gloves and soaks even the skin underneath.

Eventually he would let you cum. Eventually he’d finally stop teasing you so much, and move his fingers in scissoring motions one last time before feeling you explode all over his hand. His other hand was intertwined with yours, his thumb rubbing circular motions over the back of your hand, while the other just abused your insides even further.

How silly that it all started with a little:”What other tricks do you have in store?”

[bby-deerling]

distraction (law x reader nsfw)

law is a dork who has to plan out his rizz in advance. pre-timeskip law in mind. loose sequel to counting coins afab!reader nsfw, mdni, 18+, wc 2.8k

(read this fic by @grandlinedreams while writing this, it greatly influenced the direction i went with this!)

cw: edging, overstim, fingering, oral (fem receiving), piv sex, law likes it when you call him captain

Time often turns into an illusion when submerged in the dark depths of the sea, but the exhaustion in Law’s body tells him it’s well into the early hours of the morning.  A textbook on diagnostics lay open in his lap, pages left unturned for quite a while as his eyes repeatedly glazed over the words and diagrams, unable to digest any of the information.  Just as he thinks he might be able to regain the slightest bit of focus, he twitches as he feels your thigh move against his again.  It was his own fault—he was the one sitting with his legs spread apart and refusing to budge—nevertheless, he was vexed at how much the slightest touch from you affected him.

You were nowhere near focused either.  Despite having a variety of medicines in progress to write updates on in your lab notebook, your hand hadn’t written a thing in ages, your pen either bouncing on the spine of the notebook or tapping against your bottom lip, unknowingly torturing your captain.  Eyes fixed against the wall as you leaned into the couch, mind adrift, he watched the subtle movements in your chest as you breathed.  Your boiler suit was unzipped and hanging around your waist, and the flimsy yellow crop top you had on left little to Law’s imagination.  No bra, as usual, he noted, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from you.

He had mentally rehearsed his plan an endless amount of times at this point.

In the months since your first meeting at a coin shop, you spent a lot of time working in close proximity with Law, just as he had promised.  Despite a steep initial learning curve, you had proven yourself indispensable to the crew with your inventive synthetic techniques; the medicine cabinets had never been more well stocked.  A self-taught doctor and his makeshift pharmacist—what a match.

Without realizing, he began to rely on your company, whether it was keeping him company in his office during nights like this one, or accompanying him on island trips to execute your now perfect tag team operation to get deals on coins he needed for his collection.  The two of you had crafted an airtight plan together that had yet to fail; once he identified a coin he liked, he would silently give you a signal and switch a coin in your hands with his devil fruit ability so you could go haggle with the shop owner, working them down by displaying your expert knowledge of coin grading, always backing your statements up with references to prevent getting backed into a corner.  Shachi and Penguin had once asked him why he didn’t just save the money and steal the coins with his devil fruit to begin with.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he had said with a smirk.

The real reason was that seeing you use your brilliant mind gave him an intoxicating tingle at the base of his spine.

He showed his appreciation for you and your intelligence in the small, seemingly innocuous touches he would give you from time to time—a squeeze on the shoulder, a pat on the head, often accompanied by verbal praise on your work.  His words often made your cheeks flush bright red, smiling bashfully and sputtering out a “thanks, Captain!”, but he couldn’t help but want to push it further.  Always quiet, humble and so, so sweet, you weren't the type to push boundaries, leaving Law to be the one to nudge the envelope. Slowly and methodically, he increased the frequency of his touches over time to the point where you began to reciprocate back.  More importantly, you were now comfortable enough with him to sit close enough to be rubbing thighs with him on the couch in his office.

He was tired of walking through the plan in his head.  It was time to pull the trigger.

You turn your head towards him as he says your name, startled out of your daydream.

“What’s up Captain?” you ask with a sleepy smile.  His eyes meet yours, intense as ever; the feeling had once been intimidating to you, but you had slowly become accustomed to Law’s steely gaze ripping you apart.

“You’re distracting me.” he says as you try to read his face to no avail.

“I’ll head to bed then,” you say with a yawn, “g’nite Law!” his heart stutters when he hears his name on your lips; he had given you permission to use it in private, but you rarely took the opportunity to use that privilege.

He knew you would take his words as a dismissal—on any other night they would be—and he delights in the surprise on your face when he grabs your wrist and prevents you from leaving the couch.  He stands, tattooed hand still pinning your wrist to the couch, and leans over you, tossing his bucket hat onto the floor.  You’re already putty in his hands as he grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger and tilts your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I think I’m distracting you too, aren’t I?” he asks, allowing the smallest hint of a smirk to grace his face as he knows he’s finally got you right where he wants you.  “You’ve been spaced out for hours.  Haven’t gotten one bit of work done.”

“Guess I worked past the point of fatigue, Captain.” you reply, corners of your mouth quirked upward. 

Law’s thumb runs across your chin, then grazes your lower lip; he delights in the subtle reaction he gets from you.

“You wanna know what I think?” he whispers, leaning in closer to your face.

“Hmm?” you hum, feeling electricity swirl in your veins as he traces a finger up the bare skin of your side.

“I think you deserve a reprimand for drooling over your Captain all night instead of finishing your notes.” he growls, finally bringing your lips to meet his.  You kiss him back immediately, and he delights in the gasp you make when he slips his tongue in your mouth.  Law presses your wrist further into the couch as it twitches in his grasp; he could feel how desperately you wanted to touch him back, but he was insistent on keeping things on his terms.

He had spent too much time and energy planning this out to lose control and not take his time with you.

With a flick of his wrist, you’re sitting on the edge of his bed and his hand is slowly crawling up your stomach under your sad excuse for a shirt.  Taking a nipple between two of his fingers, he groans as your hips squirm against his.

“You wear this on purpose?” he asks, hand dropping to play with the hemline of your shirt.  “You wearing this to tease your Captain?  To drive me nuts while I’m trying to work?”

You shake your head.  “I didn’t realize I affected you that much, Captain…” you reply, cursing yourself for not being able to banter with him like you usually would when he’s not affecting you this much.

Little did you know, Law was counting on taking advantage of your sheepishness.

He grinds his hips against yours slowly, arm hooked around your waist to make sure you felt every bit of his arousal rub against your damp core.

“Well,” he murmurs in your ear, “hope you can feel it now.”  You let out a shaky breath and slam your lips against his, desperate to feel his tongue against yours again.  He indulges you briefly, before pulling away again, eyes gleaming with mischief that made your face tingle in anticipation. 

“Patience.” he scolds, running his slender, tattooed fingers across your jawbone.  “I’m supposed to be teaching you a lesson, after all.” 

Noticing you squirming your hips to get more friction against him, he steps back, still holding onto your face.  Amused at your frustration at his teasing, he gives you a lopsided smile.  He was a firm believer to sticking to his plans, and he still had to completely ruin you with his mouth and hands before even thinking of fucking you.

When you find yourself pushed back on the bed and Law slowly crawls on top of you, both of you now shirtless, you smirk, thinking he’s caved and was going to give you what you desperately needed; however, unbeknownst to you, you’d only backed right into his next little trap.  Caged beneath him, you were now completely at Law’s mercy, and he meant to draw this out as long as possible.

“You’re always staring at my hands.  Any reason why?” he asks you, fingers slowly roaming across your upper body; his touch is light and careful, not too far gone yet to lose his surgical precision.

Your face flushes, realizing he had caught on to the way you shamelessly stare at his strong, beautiful, inked fingers when you think he’s not looking.  Even the most mundane acts—writing, inspecting coins, sewing up patients, using his devil fruit abilities—were enough to drive you wild, wanting to feel his touch all over you.

You feel silly at overestimating your ability to hide things from your Captain—after all, Law never misses a thing.

“I think you know why, Law.” you say, voice laced with lust and just the slightest hint of frustration at his teasing.  “I want those pretty fingers everywhere.”

“Is that so?” he muses.  “Tell you what—" the pressure behind his touches increases, causing your breath to hitch.  “—I’m going touch you everywhere, and you’re going to tell me where you want it most.”

It starts with a hand cupping the side of your face; you nuzzle into his touch, giving him a smile that melts his cold heart so much that he almost thinks about cracking and giving you what you want.  His touches don’t stay innocent for long, tracing his fingers against your lips again, before experimentally sliding two into your mouth, groaning as you eagerly suck on them, running your tongue along the digits.  A third finger slips in your mouth, causing you to let out a moan that slowly turned into a muffled giggle.  Law gives you a puzzled expression until you point at the three fingers he was using.

E, A, T

“Keep fooling around and it’s going to be another hour before I eat you.” he says with a scowl, though there’s no real bite to it.  His fingers slowly pull out of your mouth, and he wipes your own saliva on the top of your breast.  A shiver runs through your body at the sensation of the cool air in his cabin running across your own spit; this pleases Law as he starts to rub small, gentle circles into your nipple with his thumb.

 “Right there…” you whisper, “Feels so good, Law, don’t stop...”

“Really?  That’s where you want it most?” he teases.  “I suppose I can just quit now then…”

“Law, please… keep going, please…” you huff.  Never in all your months with your Captain had you seen him so incredibly smug.

Despite his threat, D continues to trace circles on your nipple as his other hand dances all over the bottom half of your torso; he’s intent on continuing his teasing, but still desperate to explore your body after months of craving.

The moans you let out once he finally reaches your inner thighs are music to the surgeon’s ears.  “Is it here? This where you want it?” he asks, running A and T upward towards your entrance, and then back down again.  “It seems like it…” he muses, “Unless there’s somewhere else you want me.”

“Please Law, rub my clit…” you whine.  Being the target of Law’s slow, methodical affections was thrilling, but your bud was throbbing with need and you desperately needed release.

He chuckles as he pinches your nipple and complies with your request.  “All you had to do was ask.” he says, you know, like a liar.  His cock twitches in his pants, almost painful by this point, but he was still determined to mess with you just a little bit longer.

So, when he sees you’re nearly about to come, he pulls his hand away.  You groan and ball your hand into a fist, nearly punching the bed in frustration.  “Law…” you whine, head spinning and hips shaking.

“What’s wrong?” he says teasingly, hands exploring your thighs.  “You went quiet, were you trying to focus on getting off?” you nod and give him a strangled mhm in response.

“Maybe you’ll remember how this feels next time you decide to distract your Captain when he’s trying to work.” he whispers lowly, slipping two fingers inside of you effortlessly.

“So wet…” he sighs, admiring the way your body tenses as he curls his fingers upward.  “It’s here isn’t it?  Where you want my fingers the most?” he asks. 

“Mhm!” you moan, unable to string together a coherent sentence as you soaked his tattoos with your arousal.

“Knew it.” he says with a smirk.  “Gonna come for your Captain?”

“Law—” you whine his name, only to let out a strangled moan of frustration as he pulls his fingers out of you and puts them in your mouth, shutting you up while you lick them clean.

“Was that insubordination?” he muses, “And here I was about to let you come.”

“Please, Captain…” you beg when his fingers leave your mouth, frustrated at him for denying you but still compliant with his little game.  “I need you to make me come so bad Captain—”

“How’d it taste?” he asks, purposely ignoring your pleas.

“Tasted good, Captain…” you reply, praying he planned on using his tongue on you next.

He glances down at his watch.  “Hasn’t quite been an hour since your last nonsense, but I’m getting hungry.  Count yourself lucky.” he says, kissing your thighs before latching onto your clit.  You nearly see stars when he laps at your extremely sensitive bud, and feel the warmth grow in your stomach as his fingers find themselves back inside of you; it was all almost too much.  Drowning in pleasure, your head buzzed but he was purposely not letting the wire snap.  You snap your hips erratically against his mouth, desperately chasing your orgasm and praying he wouldn’t stop again.

He doesn’t.

Pure ecstasy overtakes your entire body as you come, intensified by the vibrations of his satisfied chuckle against your clit.  Your orgasm is long, lewd, and messy, and intoxicating to Law as he eagerly laps up your wetness.  It was perfect, you were perfect, splayed out, twitching, and gasping just for him.

“You did so well for me…” he soothes, leaving tender kisses on your thighs as you catch your breath. 

Once you regain your senses, you experimentally run your fingers through his hair, body still too much in shock to sit up properly.  “Felt so good Law… ” you whisper, voice raspy.

When you tell him you need a moment to recover, he nods and crawls up beside you to hold you close, pressing comforting kisses to the back of your head.

“Hope it wasn’t too much…” he says, suddenly worried that he had gone overboard with his teasing.

“You’re perfect, Law,” you assure him as you turn around in his arms and give him a chaste kiss on the lips, “just no more teasing tonight.”

“Promise.” he says, hands running down your side towards your hips.  “Can’t say anything about tomorrow though—"

His breath hitches as you run your fingers along the waistband of his boxers, dipping them under and tracing the skin underneath.  He grabs your wrist and guides your hand to his aching cock.

“No more teasing tonight.” he insists as he slides his boxers off, your hand lazily stroking him.

“Haven’t I earned the right?” you ask with a playful smile as he lines up his cock with your entrance.  Despite how pretty it was, he was determined to wipe that look clean off your face and devour you.

“Shut up and take it.” he groans as he bottoms out inside of you all at once, tired of the back and forth.  He gives you no time to adjust, but his first few strokes are slow.  However, he quickly picks up the pace, drunk on the feeling of finally being inside you.

You cry out from overstimulation as his cock hits your sweet spot over and over again, feeling the seeds of another orgasm blooming.

“Take it for your Captain.  Come for me again.” he orders, gritting his teeth as he resists the urge to cum before you do.  When your walls clench around him, he can’t hold back anymore and spills deep inside of you.

“Law…” you say as he lays on top of you and nuzzles his face into your hair.

“Mhmm…” he responds, starting to feel the tempting pull of sleep wash over him.

“You always gonna be that mean to me in bed?”

“Only when you distract me.”

[killxio]

no good | onyankopon

word count: 520 [2 min read] | ✪ content warning: fingering, cum eating, clit slapping, slight manhandling, established relationship

onyankopon x reader / boyfriend!onyankopon x reader

✭ boyfriend! ony fingers you on his lap and slaps your clit.

your boyfriend onyakopon is back to the headboard and you’re ontop off him, getting the sonic coins finger-fucked out of you and holding onto your orgasm for dear life as per threatening demand.

“oooohh shhhitt,” you mewl, pushing yourself up by grabbing his thighs and trying to escape his fingers.

ony lands a swift slap to your clit and wraps his free hand around your neck, “stay fuckin’ still. you’n wanna know what i’ll do t’you if i gotta cuff you mama.”

the stinging sensation halts your movements and has you back on his lap, ass jiggling over his hard dick.

you’re left wondering what you could’ve possibly done today to deserve this, and truthfully you’ve been on your best behavior, ony just wanted to fuck you real good tonight and he couldn’t do that if you kept squirming away.

you kick your feet out, thrashing slightly until his grasp on your neck tightens and his legs push yours down.

but the issue here is ony wasn’t just prepping you- he was teasing. torturing, even. telling you to hold onto your orgasm so you’d squirt on him. he wanted you messy tonight without the wait of making you cum a bunch of times over, he just wanted you to wet up his dick.

“pa- daddy ohmygoddd please jus wanna cummmm, please please please please” ony smirks at your sudden switch to daddy instead of papa, knowing he’s pushing you further into submission.

“if i let you cum you gon’ squirt on me, baby? make it real wet princess or you gotta keep holding it.” he asks, pausing between the question and the sentence to start kissing your neck and the valley between it and your shoulder.

“hahhh- yes baby, m’finna squirt for you jus lemme- please i…” you’re cutting yourself off, loosing your train of thought as your wetness runs down his knuckles and between his fingers.

he releases your neck and instead moves to rub your dripping pussy, massaging your clit. the added stimulation of the bud sends you into your orgasm, arching your back off of him as he rains down praise upon you.

“let it out, that’s my good girl. such a good fuckin’ girl for me, huh?” he asks, knowing you’re not going to answer him, you can’t answer him.

his and your sleep clothes have been long discarded— so your wetness is wets the sheets, his dick and a little of his lower abdomen. mostly his hands and tattooed, veiny forearms that he’s yet to remove from your cunt.

he continues penetrating you through your orgasm, eventually slowing down along with the circles his fingers are making around your clit, no longer being able to keep the tight circles he was making as your orgasm was making it too slippery.

you spasm once or twice, taking harsh and heaving breaths, as he slips his fingers out of you and slides them into his mouth, choking you lightly in the process.

“tastes so fuckin’ good…” he pops them out and his lips are now glossed, “now let’s get you to do it on my dick.”

[nvirskies]

til death do us part, and then some - c. la rue

warnings: reader suicide, angst hurt/no comfort, ruegard, asshole clarisse, descriptions of blood, infidelity, broken promises, not beta read

summary: clarisse never comes back from a quest and you take matters into your own hands to reunite.

unclaimed!fem!demigod!reader x unfaithful!clarisse la rue

word count: 2.1k

taglist: @lvrue @star-girl69 @petitegavotte @b0ok-lover @azrielsdiary

PROCEED WITH CAUTION, READ AT OWN RISK

men, nsfw, non-sapphic, 16-/19+ dni

Lord Dionysus, Chiron, or whomever may be reading this:

In the event that someone has been unfortunate enough to find this note upon my death, do not fret. This has been a decision I had been mulling over for weeks, months, if not years now. I do not know when I will feel compelled to take this step further, so this has been written entirely in advance. Know that I will be content with my life in the Fields of Asphodel, or the Gardens of Elysium should Lord Hades be so generous as to grant me that privilege.

I would like to thank everyone who did their best in making Camp Half-Blood a welcoming and home space. Special thanks to the Hermes cabin, and Lord Hermes for their gracious welcoming arms and making me feel like I belonged somewhere. My belongings should be distributed amongst whomever would like to keep them, and make sure they are put to good use.

Return any and all of Clarisse’s clothing found in my chest back to the Ares cabin, and let them figure out what to do with it on their own time. Lord Ares, I give my final thanks to you for graciously allowing your daughter to have been part of my life. 

To my fellow unclaimed demigods who are wondering if they should be mourning the loss of a sibling, I have no definitive answer for you beyond if you felt like you were close enough to call me a sibling, mourn me like you would a biological one. No matter if you are claimed tomorrow or never claimed at all, know you are not unworthy or inferior simply because of your divine parent’s lack of attention. 

You may be half-divine, but always remember to keep that human spark within you alive. Keep your compassion, your empathy, your sense of understanding. This world is not made for us, but never give up on creating spaces that are. We live heavy lives, and respite is hard to come by.

When you bury my body, put me to rest with my javelin, suit of armor, and the fragments of Clarisse’s shattered spear. Under my tongue, please place two coins instead of one. My love is waiting for me on the banks of the River Styx with no way across, and I would like to provide her with a way across alongside me. 

Underneath the last paragraph was your name, signed in neat print alongside your signature swooping cursive. The letter was found rolled neatly atop your chest of belongings, your lifeless body on the bunk bed you had claimed for yourself for the past four years of your life. Crimson blood seeped through the bed sheets and mattress, a fatal reminder for all of the fragility that even the strongest harbored. 

Upon the discovery of your body, ripples of whispers swept through the campers like a stone tossed in the midst of a serene waterfront. Your skin was just barely lukewarm, the blood streaming from the thin cut horizontal across the jugular vein was beginning to brown and oxidize. 

In one hand was the knife that had presumably made the cut, the blade pristine and glinting in the dim light save for the thin line of blood that ran across its edge. The other held Clarisse’s favorite shirt, all bundled up and cleaner than anyone had ever seen it before. Anyone who picked up said shirt could immediately tell that it had been doused in the cologne that she once wore on a daily basis, no doubt a purposeful move to make your last moments completely blissful in surrounding yourself with her scent.

She had been your home, after all.

Clarisse had comforted you through nightmares, the breakdowns about being unclaimed for years that happened whenever someone new was claimed and the jealousy and anger of it all. 

She had reassured you that even after Silena had died that you weren’t a rebound, and that her feelings for you were genuine, and you had believed her. 

You were her girl, after all. The one she let her walls down around, the one who had tried to patch together the spear her father had given her even after the Hephaestus children had given up. The one who she let braid her hair and be soft around. The one where she had promised over and over again that even in the afterlife, you would find each other in Elysium again.

Then, she had been sent out on a quest. One that she had vowed to return from, safe and sound. The rest of her group did, but her face was never again seen on the hills of Camp Half-Blood that the two of you called home. 

Gone were the moments wherein she would hold you and soothe all of your worries away. Gone were the times of squealing as she picked you up from behind and spun you around to face her mid-air. Gone were all the possibilities to make the most of your limited years together, because she was dead, off in a faraway land that you couldn’t even visit to see her corpse and offer her one last smile.

That was when the thoughts began to swirl in your mind. Months went by and everything seemed to go back to normal. You had been given three weeks off training to mourn, and after those three weeks you seemingly bounced back like nothing was wrong, like you hadn’t just lost the love of your life. 

The only difference was the streak of white that made itself apparent in your hair, its origins unknown, and the smile on your face that never seemed to quite reach your eyes no matter how many times you tried to convince (yourself) and the others that it was genuine. 

Months passed and all fell back into its routine. Things were looking up for the camp as a whole, and Chiron had been able to take a few steps back in managing thanks to Percy Jackson’s continued efforts to have gods and goddesses interact with their children more. 

But those thoughts still took root in your mind, their tendrils digging into the very essence of your psyche as every lonely moment was spent longing for her touch, for her warmth, for the security that she provided once upon a time. In your mind, there was no doubt that it was time to make good on your promise to each other. 

You would meet her in the gardens of Elysium and reunite once more.

After your burial, you made your way down to the banks of the River Styx, anxiously clutching the two coins in one hand and your javelin in the other. Your eyes scanned the crowds of souls, all clamoring to Charon, pleading that he take pity on them and take them across without payment.

The wails of the damned, sobs of the innocent, and screams of the guilty all flooded your senses. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar mess of brown curls and sprinted towards them, your footsteps leaving indents on the ash-sand lining the waterline of the Styx.

She was there. Your assumptions had been correct. 

As she had died out in the world and had never been given a proper burial, she had joined the crowd that lingered just at the edge of the Styx, taking every chance she had to try and get across. 

But now that you were there, she didn’t have to worry about sneaking aboard Charon’s boat. You had enough payment for the both of you to make it across safely, and finally live out the rest of your afterlives like you had promised each other.

It wasn’t until you were naught but a couple dozen feet away that you noticed she was rather busy with something. Or rather, someone. And she was looking at that person like they were the only one in the world right now. Your gut twisted, knowing that was the look that she had given you. 

But it wasn’t you she was looking at. It was Silena Beauregard, the daughter of Aphrodite, that Clarisse had spent countless hours reassuring you that she wasn’t just using you as a rebound to get over her death.

She had lied right through her teeth, all with the kindest smile on her face that you could imagine. It was becoming apparent that you were a fool, strung along for the sole purpose of keeping Clarisse’s arms full and warm while she thought of the Beauregard girl. 

Every kiss, every moment, every word shared between you two seemed hollow now. They had lost all meaning, all of the sentiment that once made your stomach fill with butterflies. 

You skidded to a stop just behind the pair, watching with a heavy heart and tightening in your chest as their lips collided over and over again in a series of passionate kisses, their hands roaming each others’ bodies. Just like she had done with you, countless times prior. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice your presence.

You had always been hers, but she had never been yours. 

There wasn’t much emotion left in you besides melancholic resignation, and your gut twisted every time you gripped the two coins in your hand, a reminder that they would never be used for their intended purpose. 

You waited there for a moment before tapping on Clarisse’s shoulder, causing her to break away from the kiss and turn to look at you. Surprise filled her features, then guilt. Overwhelming guilt as she realized the situation you had caught her in. Her lips were interlocked with another girl’s just a moment ago, the very same girl that she had reassured was not a problem or factor in your relationship.

Silena stood behind her, her eyes scrutinizing your appearance, taking note of the way you clutched two coins instead of the customary one. 

“Love-? What are you doing here?” Clarisse asked, the term of endearment slipping naturally off her tongue as it had countless times in the past. But it no longer held any meaning to you, not when you had just witnessed everything before your very own eyes. You didn’t respond beyond throwing the two coins down at her feet with a knowing look, a silent callback to the promise that the two of you had made. The coins clinked softly as they fell onto the fine ash that lines the shores of the River Styx, falling on top of each other.

Horror filled her features as she realized just exactly what you were doing down in the Underworld, and her eyes fell upon the thin scar that ran just along the jugular vein on your neck.

The one spot she had taught you to go for on an opponent if anything ever threatened your life, and you had used it on yourself to have a chance at forever with her. A chance that had been wasted.

“You- you didn’t-” she began, choking on her own words as tears filled her eyes at the thought of it, and the sight of you, now in front of her, very obviously dead. 

“It was for you, ‘Risse, but it seems I really was just a rebound after all.” You spat out, a dangerously bitter edge to your voice as you looked her up and down. 

“These,” you gestured to the coins on the ground, “were supposed to be for us, for the promise you made. But I guess I was the one foolish enough to listen to you, to fall for you in the first place.”

“Enjoy your time in Elysium, La Rue, and know that you were the cause of my death. Don’t forget. On the River Styx.” 

That last statement was the final nail in her metaphorical coffin. No one made a promise on the infamous river and broke it, not without terrible consequences. Any and all chances of her getting into the paradisal side of the Underworld were dashed in mere moments as the realization dawned on her about the gravity of her mistake. 

You bent down and picked up one of the coins on the ground and left without a word, turning on your heel and disappearing back into the crowd of souls before Clarisse could utter another word. 

You had left her with two choices by giving her that one coin: to take the coin for herself and cross with Charon with hopes of trying to win you back and leaving the Aphrodite girl in the dust, or giving it to Silena and letting her go because she was clearly the girl the daughter of Ares loved most. Either way, she lost something.

Her last name was right. You rued the day you ever met Clarisse.

[apclyptc]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN— chris ver.

foreword: please read the first part linked here! it kinda makes sense without but not really so i’d read part one first. the matt version is also linked on that post so if u wanna read that one, head there!

warnings: making out, grinding, handjob, fondling of the upper chest area wink wink nudge nudge, cum eating, slight jealousy from chris if you squint

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“i pick… chris.” you glanced at him to find him smirking, as if he knew his name would come out of your mouth.

it intimidated you slightly, knowing whatever was going to happen in these next ten minutes was going to change your entire friendship thus far.

“oh great, just what we needed. everyone get your earplugs ready.” nate teased, causing others to giggle.

everyone knew chris had no shame when it came to pda.

“okay so just go upstairs and pick a room, as long as it’s not mine. i don’t want you two messing up my bed.” nate half-joked, pointing upstairs.

“bet.” chris spoke, grabbing your hand and taking you up.

maybe he was just putting up a front to everyone else, to play along with the game.

but you knew him better than that, he never put up a front to anybody.

as soon as your hand pushed the handle of the door open, chris turned you around and immediately connected his lips to yours.

there was barely any time to react, once he had shut the door behind him, he was on you, pulling your hips into him, hands on the small of your back.

briefly, he pulled away to speak.

“i’ve wanted this for a while. but you knew that, didn’t you?”

you may have had a small feeling. it wasn’t always there, and it took you some time to figure it out, but the lingering stares–and touches that lasted a little longer than they should– gave it away.

“yes…” you replied hesitantly.

“all those times you were at the house, flirting with my brother, wearing those clothes. you know what you do to me, don’t you?” he brought his face closer to yours, noses practically touching.

“don’t you?” he repeated, hinting for you to answer.

“y-yes.” why were you so nervous? it was like you were unsure of your own responses, stuttering like a schoolgirl being reprimanded by a teacher.

“hey, you don’t need to be so shy. if you don’t want this, you let me know.” he stroked your cheek gently, but the hunger in his eyes was still ever present, looking down at your plump, wet lips.

you definitely wanted this, that much was true.

all you had to do was push through the drumming of your heart at the feeling of his warm hands on your body.

“i do want it… let me show you how much.” you kissed him with all the passion you could summon, licking into his mouth. chris pulled you up by your thighs, walking you to the bed at the other side of the room.

he sat you both down, not allowing you to break from the kiss you shared, growing sloppier by the second. you gyrated your hips into his lap when his hands moved down to grope your ass, guiding you over his clothed dick. you felt it beneath you, bigger than you anticipated, but it didn’t shock you.

“can you feel what you do to me now?” he broke away to catch his breath, a hand moving from your behind to snake up your shirt. he took a tit in his hand, squeezing the mound of flesh.

“is that an invitation?” you allowed your own hand to venture down into the small space between you, copying the pressure he had on your boob, and a sharp intake of breath left his mouth.

“your choice, baby. we only have ten minutes, you think you can finish what you’ve started?” his hips made a single thrust further into your palm.

“only one way to find out.” chris helped you shimmy his pants halfway down his legs, and you tucked his underwear underneath his balls.

watching his cock spring free from the confines of his boxers almost made your mouth water.

considering the fact there wasn’t a lot of time left, you didn’t want to waste any of it ogling at the perfection of his dick, the way it curved oh so slightly, the long thick vein protruding on its side. you didn’t have the time to think about how much you wanted to feel it in places so deep that you couldn’t walk straight for days.

from the moment you gripped the base of his impressive cock, adding pressure in the right places, making him pant with such a simple action, you knew this would not be the last time you were in such a position with chris.

you began slowly, stroking him lazily as you watched him intently. he looked at you with such desperation that it sent shivers down your spine.

when he brought his lips to your neck, sucking over the spot where his own brothers lips had been, that was when you picked up your pace.

chris moaned into your collarbone, biting lightly to attempt to muffle himself, with little success.

“shit, feels so good, y/n.” he mumbled into your skin. the satisfaction you received from his words only boosted your confidence. it was you who was making him squirm, you who was giving him pleasure. it was you who he’s wanted for so long.

god, if you’d had more time, you’d be on your knees for him, looking up at him while you took his whole dick in your mouth. the dampness of your panties made you well aware of how badly you wanted that.

“keep going, fuck, i’m already gonna cum.” he breathed out. chris couldn’t help but rut into your hand when your thumb grazed over his tip.

you were so lost in the moment you almost didn’t hear the knocking on the bedroom door. but you did, just barely.

you stopped what you were doing, hearing nate’s voice.

“times up, chris.” he teased, but he didn’t care.

“fuck off nate, five more minutes.” he replied, and then spoke to you, “don’t stop, baby. ignore him.”

and you continued, despite the wave of embarrassment that had seeped into your brain.

chris reconnected his lips to yours, his tongue practically fucking your mouth as he tried to prolong the moment between you. but try as he might, there was no way he could hold back any longer. he pulled away, his mouth hanging open as he came, his seed spurting out all over your hand.

you slowly milked him dry, stopping when he whined at the overstimulation.

“holy fuck, y/n.” he finally said.

“so i’m guessing that was good for you?” you giggled, taking your hand up to your mouth and licking off the cum dripping off your fingers.

“more than good. come over later? i wanna return the favour.” he smirked, willing himself not to get hard all over again at the sight of you tasting him, forcing himself not to scoop up his own cum and push a finger into your mouth.

“happy to. now what are we gonna say when we go back down there?” you asked, remembering that you were in fact, in nate’s house, where all of his friends were waiting for you downstairs.

“don’t bother, we could all hear you.” nate’s voice was heard from behind the door.

damn.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n holy fucking shit this took so long for me to write like i just could not get into my writing groove AT ALL. i really hope this was worth the wait because christ on a bike this was such sloppy writing from me.

anyway, i have another chris idea imma write. but i hear you asking for more matt stories in my asks, so ill try put on my thinking cap for some matt stories. if you have any you want me to write, let me know!!

© APCYLPTC 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.

[spookypete-94]

Dark Horse-Intentions

Part 3

Reader is a single mother, working double shifts at a restaurant. Father of the child starts to become a problem while reader is at work and Price offers a solution. Slight age gap between reader around 25 and Price around 35.

Dark Horse-

Part 3

John followed close behind while walking home with you and Abel. He had finally introduced you to the 3 that seem to follow him like lost dogs. Kyle, Johnny... and Ghost. Seeming to find it strange the other 2 provided you with their given names, and Ghost only trusting you so much.

Shaking it off, hoping for an explanation later, you asked Abel about his day. He was excited because he was learning about dinosaurs, his field trip tomorrow to the museum in the city. Reminding you, you would need to send him with money hoping to have enough for him to get what he wanted for lunch and a souvenir at the shop.

Once home, you unlocked the door pushing it open for Abel to go in first and stood waiting for John to follow in behind him. Instead, he stood at the door holding it open for you to go in.

"After you," his low grumble heard only between you and him, arm outstretched above your head. His bright blue orbs gleaming down at you once again.

"Thank you," your voice quiet and mousey, stepping in and kicking your shoes off.

Abel turned to look at John. "Can I see your hat?" he asked, head tilted up to look at him while he asked.

"Abel," your tone holding a slight warning to it for asking something so rude.

"Don't mind," John said taking it off, giving it a little shake to rid it of its normal every day dirt. The same smile and chuckle that always seemed to fill him when he was around you now being brushed off on Abel.

"Why do you wear it?"

"Used to be to keep the sun off of me, now it's just an everyday habit."

"Cool." Abel said, turning to the sides to look at it closer. "Mom, can I have a hat?"

Sighing you smiled as you ruffled his hair. "You'd probably lose it."

"Think I have one at home you can have." John said standing up fully again, hands resting on the back of his hips taking the hat back after Abel was done examining it. He hooked it up on the coat rack.

"Come on, let's get ready for tomorrow for your big day and then bed," ushering Abel to step in further to your home. John took a better step in looking around. It was small, but functional for you and Abel. 2 bedrooms, 1 small bathroom, and laundry on site. He was taking mental notes on what made you, well... you.

"Go get your clothes set out for tomorrow and find pajamas, and I'll pack your bags with the things you need." Abel sprinting off to his room, excited to pick out what he would wear for a special occasion. John stood against the wall leaning, one shoulder against it in the kitchen watching you go through the checklist making sure his homework was done. Sliding in a notebook and pencil along with his science book that was requested on the field trip sheet.

"Making them do homework?" John asked, confused.

"Guess it's their way of making them learn about the dinosaurs they see while doing a scavenger hunt."

"Ah." He said stepping forward now seeing you count the tips you had acquired from today to send with Abel for lunch.

"Here," he said sliding you 2 higher count bills.

"I got it, its ok."

"I insist. Let me."

"John, I got it."

"Don't be stubborn with me," he said sliding it forward, tone maybe almost scolding you. "If anything, send him with what you have already so he can get something nice if he wants it."

Sighing, you looked at him for a few seconds through your lashes sternly before putting the money he had given you with yours into a little coin bag and hooking it into his bookbag, so it didn't get lost.

"Thank you," your voice quiet again.

"Don't mention it."

*********************************

Abel was finally tucked into bed, the clock on the wall now reading 9:30. Honestly this was the earliest he had gone to bed all week, assuming it was from him being excited about waking up tomorrow.

Quietly shutting his door, you found John sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Want something to drink?" You asked walking into the kitchen.

"Just want you to sit with me," he said eyes trailing you as you walked by grabbing a bottle water. His reply made you give a small smile and a huff. It was such a satisfying answer that somehow made you warm and tingly.

Finally sitting down next to him you leaned with your couch into the side to better face him, an arm propped up on the couch.

"You going to tell me what you told him?"

"Mmmmm," was his only grumble, his eyes closing and leaning back onto the couch. Finally, his eyes opened back up and was looking up at the ceiling. "Real winner that guys is." he said softly, almost like he was saying it to himself. Instead of answering him you just nodded, waiting for his moment of silence to break and tell you what happened.

"Told him what the plan was. Was going to marry you and you can have access to a lawyer. Would go as far as he wanted to take it and to whatever extent that made you happy. Informed him he wasn't going to speak to you the way he has and would not just force himself into your place of work..." he said ending the statement like he wanted to say more.

You had noticed, eyebrows lifting, "And?" you questioned. "What else?"

"Told him if he broke those rules, would made sure to break him."

Giving a singular nod, showing you had heard and understood what he meant, you stayed quiet. Now fidgeting with the new ring that was on your left finger.

"Talk to me, Love."

"I'm grateful for everything, do not get me wrong... but, you can't hurt him. He is the father of my child. And for some reason for as much hatred as he has for me, he does love Abel."

"You can't let someone treat you like that. Especially in front of Abel. That behavior is not ok."

"But beating him is?"

"Look, I've dealt with a lot of men that only see violence as the answer. That is your ex. A man that thinks he can scare you into submission. And like in my job, I'm not going to stand by and let that happen to you."

"That's how you see me? A job?"

"I didn't say that.” He said regret in his sound in choice of words. The next you knew he was scrambling down in front of you, on his knees taking your hands into his. Thumb passing back and forth over his mother's ring. "I see you as a person that has dealt with enough. I see you as someone that is strong enough to deal with it and make it work no matter the problem, but it hurts me to stand by and watch. I can help and I want to. I will stand and defend you. Not that you need it, but because you deserve it. I see Abel and think of my own childhood and how I wished I could do more for my mother...I can do something now." he admitted quietly.

Shifting slowly, he rested your forehead against his, eyes closing and only feeling in the moment.

Finally opening your eyes, you saw his matching of that the look a hawk would give you. Almost like you were prey but he was watching you, reading your body language. Your eyes opened and he found peace there knowing that his explanation worked in bringing you back to him.

Leaning in closer, both of your breathing became heavy. Exchanging his oxygen for your own.

"John," you voice a near whine as he finally leaned forward kissing you. It started off gently, testing the waters seeing how much you could take and what you wanted. Finally turning hungry, all of it becoming mouth and tongue. Both of you being careful of clashing teeth. Your fingers of your right hand ran into his hair, left hand wandering down his shoulders, on to his chest and abdomen before his reached out and stopped you from going any lower.

"Easy sweet girl," his voice hot and heavy in your ear casting goose bumps across your skin. "When I take you, it will be all night, and you're going to sing like the pretty bird you are. Can't do that with your boy sleepin' in the room over." His voice was so rough, making you melt into him, his choice of words making you run hot. Finally, he bit your neck, making you stifle a moan, hiding in his shoulder as he was still on his knees in front of you. Lastly, he gave you a chaste kiss over the love mark he had just left before standing up, hand out to you. Taking his hand, he pulled you in for a hug and embraced you.

"Get some sleep, Love." he said kissing the top of your head before letting go and heading back to the door where his hat and boots awaited him.

"And wear something nice tomorrow, I'm picking you and Abel up in the morning."

"I have to work..." You said confused.

"No, you don't. Already spoke with Kate. You and I are going to the courthouse tomorrow to make this real and then I'm taking you out for the day before we pick up Abel."

Clutching your hand to your chest, a nervous habit, a small and meek, "Oh," left you.

Watching him grab the door handle, you moved to him, "Wait," he said standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him once more.

It was the same again, hungry, hot, and wet before John broke it off.

"Save it for tomorrow, we will have plenty of time together." He said, tilting your chin up to look at him and giving a brief smile before walking out your front door. Locking it, you stood there for a long while wondering at the hell just happened.

*********************************

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Taglist

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[strlingsav]

Ride

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Western AU: You have a run-in with notorious outlaw, Ghost.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Boisterous laughter and loud conversation made it difficult to hear John beside you, though you were hardly listening. You were too preoccupied with surveillance; scanning the crowd for a familiar face- or mask, more appropriately. It seemed most folks had let loose for the evening, but your eyes and ears remained sharp as you peered around the room.

Nightfall had come, cooling the hot sand of the desert and bringing with it the expectation of drunken patrons. Candelabras, oil lamps and a roaring fire tinged the saloon red and camouflaged the smell of cigar smoke. It was the usual for the small town, the only source of entertainment and drinks within a hundred-mile radius.

It'd been a while since you had the privilege of relaxing, even if you were still hyper-vigilant. Your exhaustion came from sleepless nights while on your travels. Unable to let your guard down under the stars, you'd hardly slept in the last few days. Sleeping on buffalo pelts and red dirt; your eyes were weary and tired, though there must've been a look of contemplation in your eyes.

"What's got you quiet?" John asked, leaning in closer. "Worried?"

You looked over at him; in all his drunken relaxation and exhaustion from the day's ride, he still read your expression with ease.

"Not worried," You shook your head once- unconvincingly. "Watching."

"Think you're waitin' for somethin' bad," He joked, elbowing you a bit harshly for your liking.

"Think you're a bit too drunk," You tossed back, watching him grin.

"Loosen up, kid," He scolded. "Only here for the night."

You were about to respond, when the saloon went dead-silent; the clinking of lost coins falling as patrons froze in their footsteps, the low shuffle of chairs while they searched for their pistols- likely dropped carelessly in a drunken stupor. The tune from the piano abruptly stopped, and all heads turned to the swinging parlour doors.

You lifted your gaze and there he was. Ghost.

Your jaw clenched, sitting up straight as you watched him slide in effortlessly, like he was unaware he'd stopped the world for a second. His boots hit the floorboards with heavy thuds, his spurs clanking and spinning with each step. You watched him tip his cowboy hat to the barkeep, who appeared no less than terrified.

"No trouble, alright? Hardly finished cleanin' up from last time," The barkeep said, stern yet wavering.

"No trouble," He nodded, taking a seat at the bar.

Most of the activity had resumed, though more than half of the townsfolk had escaped the moment he stepped inside. You didn't blame them; he was an intimidating man, and his stoic nature left questions and whispers at his back. You perched up further on your seat, eyes locked on the mass of muscle that made himself comfortable on the foolishly small stool.

"Ghost," John hardly whispered- disbelief, fear, a combination of both. It ran a shiver down your spine. "Never thought I'd see him here again."

You remained silent, studying the cowboy as he hunched over the bar and nursed his drink. He peered over his shoulder, finding your prying eyes and staring right back. You swallowed harshly, wondering if he recognized you. If he knew it was you, sitting mere feet from him.

Of course he knew it was you.

"Let's get out o' here before the shite hits," John swallowed the last of his beer, throwing his coat over his shoulders.

"I'll catch up," You nodded.

John was hesitant; he knew well you'd handle your own, stand your ground, but stray bullets have no name and he worried for your life. Ghost's reputation was not one of gentleness and kind deeds- he was an outlaw.

"C'mon," He ushered.

"I'm finishing my drink. I'll catch up, John," You insisted.

He finally conceded, pulling his arm through his sleeve before nodding curtly.

"I'll pay the barkeep and stablehand. I'll come lookin' if I don't see you in the mornin'."

You nodded in response, watching him stride past the masked man, head turned as he investigated. Finally, he disappeared from the saloon, leaving you to your own devices as you sipped your whisky. It wasn't without your appreciation- but unbeknownst to John, you knew Ghost better than anyone.

Your eyes drifted around the room, not noticing him stand from his stool and approach your table until you heard the spurs hit the floor. You lifted your head then, and watched as he pulled the chair out across from you to sit down.

His scent immediately washed over you- gunpowder and rolled cigarettes. The fresh smell of whisky emanated from his lips as he spoke through the black mask over his face. The deep, inviting accent made your body shiver- already planting arousal in your womb without any effort.

"You here on business?" He asked.

"Pleasure," You replied, finishing a gulp.

You feigned relaxation, letting your shoulders fall and your back hit the chair as you leaned further away. This was your game, your routine- you enjoyed the part you played, even if it took an astounding amount of willpower not to climb onto his lap.

"Seems you're in the right place," He said back, raising his head to look at you.

"Thought so," You added. "Wasn't sure when I didn't see your face plastered around town."

You watched the fabric of his mask move- a grin. You smiled softly, smugly.

"Reason for the mask," He responded. "Lucky few get to know my face."

You raised a brow.

"Colour me flattered."

"You interested in a ride, sweetheart?" He asked, thighs spread as he leaned back in his chair.

You swallowed again, this time finishing your drink. Your hand held your chin up as your eyes met his with a glimmer of sadistic enjoyment. He watched your hat tip, and you brushed a stray lock of hair from your face as he stood to his feet.

He lead you upstairs- a room he'd rented for the evening while in search of you. You'd met a handful of times, always finding each other in the chaos of the saloon and ending the evening in whatever bed was available.

Since then, he'd come to terms with the fact that he'd ride to the ends of the earth to find you. The laws he had to break hardly mattered, neither did the "wanted" posters or the townsfolk cowering in fear at his very appearance. None of it mattered as much as finding you. You left him chasing the very hint of you, the smallest pieces he could get his hands on just for the chance of relief.

He risked his freedom every time he strolled into town. It was common knowledge everywhere he went; his previous crimes still kept him labeled as a wanted man. He could've ridden off, started a new life under his true name, but you brought him back every damn time.

"Y'were hard to find," He muttered, his lips haphazardly pressed against your neck.

He'd corralled you against the wall while his fingers worked open the buttons on your breeches. He'd ditched his hat and mask, thrown recklessly on the floor as you danced around each other in an attempt to disrobe.

"Maybe I didn't want you to find me," You answered, your arm wrapping around his head as you pulled him closer.

"Doubt that," He answered as his calloused hand dove beneath your pants, and was welcomed with warmth and wetness. "You like knowin' I'll find you wherever you go, sweetheart."

You grinned, your ego slowly shattering as his fingers teased between your thighs. Warm, calloused fingers slid through your folds, eliciting a jolt when he purposely evaded your clit. You huffed softly, humming amusedly in his ear.

"Nowhere to hide from Ghost," You whispered in his ear, making him groan. "I think you like the chase."

"I do," He grinned against your neck. "But now that I've got you- there ain't nowhere left for you to run."

You shivered as he circled your clit, the softness in his touch a stark contrast to his other hand; an iron-like grip on your waist, keeping you pinned against the wall.

The room itself was quiet and dark, lit by only a few candles and the smell reminiscent of the fire roaring beneath you. You could hardly make out his face in the orange light, but your head turned to meet his gaze, and his lips upturned subtly.

He missed you; most everything about you. Truthfully, you weren't very hard to find. You left every possible clue and trace, in hopes he'd track you down. You never stood a chance against a man like Ghost, anyway. He could practically smell you from the town over.

His cock was pressed against your thigh, a sense of anticipation creeping up your spine. You grasped at his vest and work shirt as he slid two fingers inside you, lips against your neck again as he hid his soft grunts from you.

Long fingers stroked firmly inside you, his thumb caressing the bundle of nerves above. Your knees had weakened, pushing your hips against him in an effort to get closer- to get more.

"Ghost," You muttered softly, hands planted against his chest. He was still nipping and kissing at your neck, still driving his fingers into your pussy. "Get on the bed, cowboy," You said- firmer this time, and it caught his attention.

He pulled away slowly, withdrawing his fingers before placing them in his mouth and sucking softly.

"Beautiful," His lip twitched, removing his holster from his hips while he backed up.

You followed, shrugging off your blouse and stepping out of your breeches while he unbuttoned his work shirt.

Usually, Ghost wasn't one to allow a woman control, but the way you looked riding his cock was enough of an incentive to listen.

He collapsed on the bed, taking hold of your waist as you climbed on top of him, straddling his wide hips and setting your palms on his chest. His eyes were drawn to your chest, then your stomach, then your pussy, where he felt his cock rest between your folds and shifted your hips to feel the slick wetness seeping from your pussy.

"C'mon, then," He grunted, jerking his hips up to earn your attention. "Ride it, love."

You smirked- abiding his pestering by gently coaxing his cock inside you, a slow descent to fullness, earning an airy exhale as you found yourself seated on his hips.

He groaned, aggressive hands guiding your hips back and forth, up and down. He watched as your head fell back, toes curled beneath you while your hips strode forward.

"Ghost," You exhaled again, fingernails digging into the muscle and taught meat of his chest.

He sat up, his hand finding the small of your back, matching your rhythm with short thrusts. His other hand used heavy pressure against your clit, head tilted up while he watched your eyes squeeze shut with pleasure.

Your stomach twisted, pace increasing while you fell deeper and deeper, closing in on your orgasm with ambition. Your hips retreated, desperate to ease the over-stimulation and try to bring yourself back to present, before he tugged you closer and rammed his hips up into you.

"Don't run from me," He chided, eyes face-level with your bouncing tits, he brought one of your erect nipples to his mouth and sucked hard. "Take it, love."

You gasped, your body pushed over the boundary of stubbornness and finally allowing your orgasm to pass through your insides. Your entire body filled with heat, flushing red-hot blood through your womb as your pussy clenched around his cock.

"So good," You managed a whisper, jaw clenching before you sucked in a sharp breath to regain clarity.

"No cunt as good as yours," He grumbled, his hot tongue running across your breasts and circling your nipples. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, your body nearly crumbling in his hands. "Keep goin' sweetheart."

Your laboured breaths spurred him on, leaning against the wall as he sat up to finally kiss you, harsh lips enveloping yours. He sneaked his tongue inside your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

"Y'want it in you?" He asked, nearly breathless.

You nodded, eyes glazed over and too exhausted to answer. He released inside you, muscles tensing and cock twitching as warm spurts of cum coated your walls.

You took a moment to catch your breath, before dismounting and collapsing next to him with a huff.

"You onto the next after this?" He asked.

"Gotta be," You tilted your head to smile softly at him. "Can't stick around for long- people get suspicious."

"Come with me," He said, less of a question and more of a suggestion.

"You wanna run away together?" You asked, grinning.

"I'd turn myself in 'for I let you get away again."

You let out a short chuckle, "Alright, outlaw. Get your rest- we're gone at dawn."

[elodieunderglass]

Can you re-describe your flight rising lying story? I’m afraid I don’t know it and I can’t find it on your blog anywhere

Ah sorry you can’t find anything on this blog! But when I tricked Flight Rising, it was about birthday dragons.

At some point before the 2millionth dragon was born, I noticed that dragons were being hatched with IDs like 19890902. That’s a birthday!

So naturally I went and submitted a post on the anonymous tumblr confession blog DramaRising, where unhappy people complained about dragons. This was my only post on this blog, which I did not even follow or read. I simply went in to a random dive bar, dropped an explosive, and left.

The post was something like, “I’ve just found my birthday dragon. Be sure to get yours quick!” I believe there was no further explanation of what a birthday dragon even was? I was just momentarily possessed of a spirit of mischief.

Carnage ensued.

Everyone assumed that it was an established new trend, and they were FRANTIC to secure theirs. They posted their birthdays online, threads sprang up, and there was a surge in activity. Cheeky people were exalting birthday dragons to the great woe of the dozens of players sharing these birthdays.

Eventually one of the mods posted that it was now dragon-illegal to post a dragon ID with reference to it being a birthday.

Many of the threads have been deleted, but for example in 2018 people were still talking about it.

Here’s a Reddit thread in which a better historian than myself recalled them selling for 20 million coins.

Nobody could figure out how the trend had started … but by the time they were chasing their birthday dragon, it was already well under way. The trend was a trend! It was trending! It made sense! You only had one chance (or two, if you used USA/UK style dates) to get it, you were competing with others, it was unique and random and could never be repeated… the conditions were perfect for a wild frenzy. It was very funny and good.

There is another punchline: I do not own my own birthday dragon. Someone else has it. It would have been SMART to secure my own birthday dragon before setting off an illegal stock market surge in birthday dragons, but i did not, because…

… i have never cared very much about dragon IDs.

lmao

[ggsbooks123]

Memories — part two of memory garden

warning: gets pretty angsty here and character deaths 😓 mentions of suicide (jude bby is guilt ridden)

summary: you don’t know how much longer you can take it. The thoughts eating away at you telling you to kill someone in your heart you knew was pure good… but what happens when the voices turn on you?

a lil disclaimer yall i mixed cressidas name with cresta without thinking and realised half way through… i couldn’t be bothered to go back and fix it so i continued using it 😭 cresta is cressida!

— —

The next morning I woke up to Boggs shaking me and asked me to step outside, the sun was only just making its ascent.

I notice my restraint is off, Boggs must have taken them off before waking me up, I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why he had done it, I was in no right mind.

My eyes lifted at the doorway, Peeta was right there… No. I shook my head, following Boggs out the door.

He stood gazing over the destruction of the city, I tightened my fist when the echo of a voice tried to break through. Not now. This was the outcome of war and nothing I did to them now would prevent this. But the voices never agreed.

“Wanted to check how you were feeling after your first night” He explained once I joined him at his side, it was nice that he cared.

I shrug, glancing back over my shoulder “I don’t think it’s a good idea that i’m here, I was getting help back at the district… I don’t know why i’m here” I definitely didnt think it was a good idea, Coin had sent me here knowing i was far from recovery.

“Coin always has a reason” Boggs muttered like he’d been reading my thoughts “I think she has no use for Katniss and Peeta anymore-“ He eyes filled in the blanks his words didn’t…

“She sent me to kill them” I whisper back realisation smacking into, I was a weapon, again. But it wasn’t the capital this time, it was the rebellion.

When will i be free?

The voice sounds almost sad and I realise that it’s not a voice, it’s my own thoughts. My own depressing and given up thoughts.

“She can try and turn you into some psycho killer but the people in that room care about you, even if you don’t see it. So do I, the three of you kids have seen more hell than anyone deserves” Boggs explains, finally turning from the city to face me. “You’re just kids”

I frown, glancing down at my hands. Kids. We weren’t even eighteen years old, it was something that defined so much about someone and id forgotten.

“Thank you” I whisper, movement from inside alerts me and I reach for my gun, what if Peeta took this distraction as an opportunity but then Katniss stepped out, my heart didn’t slow but my hands dropped.

“What’re you doing out here so early?” Katniss asked stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance, my hand clenched.

She’s with Peeta, they will kill us all. The desire to kill Katniss was easier to push down but when it came to Peeta is was a thirst for blood like no other.

I shake my head, not hearing what Boggs responded with.

“How are things?” Boggs doesn’t respond to this question so I glance up and see they both have their attentions on me.

How are things? I wanted to scoff, but I knew that I was an accident waiting to happen, they didn’t know what would set me off. Apparently just saying how are things is one example. I shake my head and I notice the flash of concern.

“I can only get better right?” I spit, I don’t mean for it come out like that but she flinches and Boggs places his hand on her shoulder.

I feel it, my hand moving on its own before my right slapped down on it, instantly both their eyes slammed to me and without further explanation i declare, “We need to put my restraint back on”

And with that Katniss went inside and woke the others and Boggs cuffed me again.

Finnick was the first to step out, alongside a girl with a vines blooming flowers across the left half of her shaved head “Jude, I wanted you to meet Cresta, she’d one of the directors for this whole thing”

I smiled lightly at her, hoping to be polite since she no doubt had to stay up for an hour and watch me last night. “Nice to meet you, are you from the Capitol?”

She nods, “Do I give off that capitol ignorance?” She asked as a joke but in her eyes I could tell she was pleading I said no which made me smile slightly wider. I liked her.

“No, no. I was just asking didn’t mean to hit right on the money” I shrugged, “Maybe after this I could read palms?” I raise an eyebrow at Finnick who seems to just be smiling at me. “What?”

“Nothing, just glad you’re finally started talking about an after this” And with that Cresta and him left me, sending my mind reeling.

After…

— —

The next few days were especially hard, we had to travel a few streets at a time due to these devices called pods, the game makers had created them, no death should be boring apparently.

One of the pods had contained thousands upon thousands of snakes, luckily they seemed to stop at a certain point. Just like in the games except we could activate them from a distance.

Some of the other pods though, made it harder to remember where I was and who my friends are. Boggs had set off the last pod, four explosions had destroyed the road before them and each explosive made unbidden thoughts enter my head.

Now we were slowly making our way through the Capital streets, it seemed bizarre to think that it was once luxury.

“How’re you feeling?” His voice breaks through everything, and my neck snaps to him as I take a step back, bumping into Finnick who seems to have noticed why and is already guiding me to walk again.

Peeta frowns, turning away for a moment before looking back at me “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Maybe he was trying to be nice, because we both knew it hadn’t been the reason.

“It’s- It’s okay. Really. Just a lot going on, and I think I’m feeling better. The questions that i’m asking help” I respond, trying to stay calm and push the voices away, though they’re not really there at the moment.

He seems to perk at my words before shooting over his shoulder “Ask one now, can’t hurt” I blow a breath, rattling through my brain for anything and then it clicked.

We’re back in the 75th Hunger Games, it’s a couple days in and we look utterly spent, I don’t even look like i’m making my next five steps.

I try to remember when this was, must’ve been right before the arena been destroyed, Peeta and I had run into the Careers and I’d paid with three strikes to my chest, Peeta not much better off.

The thought of the wounds made me reach for my chest, but they were gone. Magically healed by the Capital just to be tortured mentally.

I watch myself trip slightly but Peetas there in an instant, arm looping around my waist, holding me for dear life.

It looked so natural. Right. Together, his eyes never leaving me, concern dripping with every blink.

I hear him whisper like he’s next to me “We’re almost at the beach alright, just a little further” I can feel the desperation in his words, he needed me to make it.

I remember the exhaustion now, the utter fatigue I felt. The thought to close my eyes was over bearing but I couldn’t let Peeta down… win, I couldn’t let him win!

I snap out of the memory, luckily Finnick has my arms in his hands because i’ve stopped again and Peeta is looking at me with concern over his shoulder every few seconds. “Jude?” Finnick whispers and I take deep breath.

“In the last Hunger Games,” I began, trying to sort out the memory, he was saving me or was he the reason I ended up at the Capitol? “You saved me after the Careers attacked us, real or not real”

He frowned at the question, was it concern or hurt in his eyes, I didn’t know because when he blinked it was gone but then he stopped turning to face me. This time Finnick doesn’t push me forwards. He didn’t save you, and now he knows that he can’t get away with his lies anymore. Kill him!

Before I could act on the voices that abruptly awokened he speaks up, “I got you to that beach, then the arena went out and the Capital got you. So yeah, I saved you from the Careers but I couldn’t save you from the Capital and it’ll kill me everyday that you had to go through that and this and I couldn’t do anything”

His voice grew more anguished and devastated with each word and I found tears falling down my own face as he took deep breaths in front of me. The old me would’ve known how much this was eating at him, would’ve helped him but how could I?

I didn’t know me anymore. Or what I could do before I snapped.

I didn’t know what to say so I said “Haymitch told me that I- I told them if it came down to it, to save you” His eyes sharpened on me somehow, “I don’t blame you for what happened in the Capital, I never will. I’m sorry”

The air hung still as Boggs turned to them finally, breaking the moment “Keep up! We haven’t got all day” Peeta sighed, glancing at Boggs before solely landing on me again.

“Real. I saved you from the Careers” I smiled lightly, kill him, I shoved it down not paying any attention to it.

“Thank you” Finally, we began to follow the others down and around another corner. Soon we were arriving at our next pod, this one had a large arch with completely and utterly destroyed walls surrounding it left to right.

More destruction passed as they continued, how long before it’s too much, until the city isn’t even salvageable. Boggs told us to hide behind the walls while he set it off the next pod and then checked for anymore. We did as told, I took position between Finnick and Katniss and two other guys i didn’t know, Peeta and Cresta, Jackson and Pollux on the other side.

I felt anticipation, the voice had free roam when the pods went off. Too much going on at once, I couldn’t control it.

The pod detonation sent my mind spiraling, as I assumed, this one, four guns emerged from the wall and rained bullets into the archway destroying bits of the wall they were behind.

If you killed them their symbol would be gone, who would push that hope and if not for Katniss and Peeta, it would die with them. The voice stronger than it’d been in days.

No! I crouched further agaisnt the wall we’d taken cover behind, I’d been given my blank gun back for the promo but this was all too much, I felt the butt of the gun against my temple as I curled into my self.

I bring my head up and smack it against the gun, get out of my head. Get out. Get out! “My favourite colour is purple, I can’t wear red bows. Peeta saved me. My favourite-“ I repeat the words, whispered and keep bringing the butt of my gun to my temple.

A hand on my shouldern brings me back, at first my eyes catch the utterly devastated ones across from me. Peeta. He looks like he’d burn the world… For me. I break the eye contact quickly and the look in Finnicks eyes said it all. He didn’t have to go through what I had to understand, I didn’t know if I’d be able to do this without him, or Peeta… No matter how much I wanted to kill him sometimes.

Suddenly an explosion going off catches us off guard, did they set off another pod? “Boggs!” Katniss screams break the air, Finnicks hands move under my shoulders and lifts me to my feet, hauling me around the corner.

We both freeze at the sight, easily three of our squad members had been hit by the bomb. But it’s Boggs who lays in Katniss’s arms that makes my stomach drop and I’m almost sure I would have crumbled if not for Finnick. Bogg’s legs were gone, nothing but two stumps and onrushing blood.

Oh god, oh god. I slam my eyes shut and a ringing breaks out in my head. This is my fault, it’s all my fault, I never should have trusted them, Boggs should have never trusted them. The thoughts come harsher than they have in weeks and I can’t break away from them.

Kill them before they kill us all. This one isn’t my voice and I snap my eyes open sure I’d see his old and drawn face in front of me, but he’s not there. Relief fills me, but the twitch in my hand isn’t as my eyes dart to Peeta.

He must’ve been hit by the backlash of the bomb, Jackson was helping him to his feet as Cresta was helping one of the twins, who’d I forgotten were even there amongst all the chaos. His blue eyes darted around until they met mine and then they drifted to my hands.

I was holding my gun… I didn’t remember grabbing it, and it was full of blanks but it could still be a weapon. Kill him, I shake my head taking a step back at the same time I hear a click from afar, my head shoot’s up and I look to see l the other twin had rushed to help the other and had set off another pod.

I flinched ready for another bomb but instead the walls to the archway we just entered and the three others all begin to close, Katniss now standing from Boggs and holding the device he had seems to catch sight before anyone of us and the look of horror on her face is enough “Run!”

An arm grabs me and yanks me forward but my hands tighten on my gun, it was his fault. I can’t shake away these thoughts anymore, not after Boggs.

“Jude, keep it together!” Finnick spoke from beside me but nothing could bring me back, not after everything, everything that he’d done.

I felt my mind unscrewing, going barbaric at the thought of Peeta being so close and safe, he would make it out of this courtyard. And I tried to fight every single part of me that wanted to change that.

I couldn’t… Not after Boggs. You’re just kids, Peeta was a kid that had been the reason of hundreds and thousands of people… He had to die.

The air thrums around us as we rush up the stairs and I take this moment to look over my shoulder, a wave of black liquid lurches towards us and with utmost certainty I don’t want to find out what happens if it reaches me but then my mind flicks.

No consequences, kill him and die knowing you saved innocents. I wanted to shake these thoughts away, Peeta rushing up behind me tells me that he’d probably only run when he realised I was safe but a larger part of me knew he had some hidden agenda to kill me and cause more harm than good.

I had time.

It was the last confirmation I needed, shoving Finnick off me and throwing myself at Peeta, I let one of hands release the gun as I grab for his shoulder but his foot catches something and I only manage to grab his shirt as we go rolling down a few of the steps as he tries to fight off my grip, I hoped I had timed it right.

“Jude! Don’t” He cried out, finally managing to grab my wrist so I raise the gun in the other, “You have to die” I whisper, unsure why I needed to say it before I bring down the gun and finally, finally-

I’m shoved, NO. Snow’s voice screams in my head and I let out a cry, the yell breaks my skull open and I feel every ounce of rage pouring from the word.

His anger becomes my own and fuels me as I jump up from the ground and grapple the man from our squad who had ruined ruined ruined everything.

I knew it was wrong, some part of me as my ears rang and my mind exploded, but I couldn’t stop stop stop. The liquid rushed behind the man in my arms now, we’d spun, had I done that? Before my foot lifted and connected with his middle and I sent him into the abyss of oil.

Then it was all gone, the ringing, the voices and my mind was clear. I just killed a man. Someone must have grabbed me because i’m moving but I don’t feel it and I don’t care I’d killed someone, killed killed killed.

I feel the tears now as a door slams shut behind me and I hauled up my stairs, these are wooden not stone. The voices come back but they are no longer on my side. And it’s my own voice.

You killed an innocent. You need to die, you’re a danger. And I agree, I scream and scream that I want nothing more than to be dead and I must’ve actually been screaming because soon all I see is the same abyss I had forsaken another to.

— —

An explosion wakes me up and proceeds to remind me of everything that had happened before I succumbed to the darkness, I took in my surrounding the only light coming from the curtained window that Katniss and Gale were peering out of.

Whatever had just happened outside had affected Katniss more than Gale, and as I shift my position to get a better look but it’s useless, Gale lets the blinds close.

I let my eyes dance around the room, there’s more people in our group than I had realised, two men sat together checking the other for injuries, another man I seen but still didn’t know the name of stood with Cresta while Finnick and Peeta sat watching the window that Katniss and Gale were at. Jackson was no where in sight, I didn’t want to see her anyways, the guilt would twist even further. The twins… gone.

I swallow the sickness I feel, I had been so crazed I hadn’t taken the time to even get to know them.

All of the squad was far from me, I realised I was placed on stairs and the rail along it is what my hands are cuffed to.

Now you can’t hurt anyone. That hadn’t changed, no longer would I fight the urge to kill Peeta, somehow my wish of not killing him had been granted. Now I had to try not to kill myself, though that statement was half hearted.

Suddenly the familiar ring of the Capitals announcement played and my veins grew cold until one of the squad members spoke up “All the tvs in Panem are connected to the announcements, if the powers on then the shows running”

I rolled my eyes, the power that they could flush into abandoned apartments was incredible when some districts could barely keep the lights on for an hour or half.

The anthem continued, causing me to close my eyes but that only let the voices free reign in the darkness.

You could’ve been helping them stop this instead you let the Capital control you. I grit my teeth together not being able to take in what was happening on screen from the inner battle I was having with my own thoughts. You nearly killed Peeta and you were proud of it.

I nearly threw up.

My skin was on fire, pure and unadultered disgust and shame with myself, how could I have not realised that killing Peeta was the worst possible thing I could do, I would be nothing. Nothing, there was no way to put into words what would happen if he died.

And by my own hand, I closed my eyes. No. Never again would I let them win, hurt him. Never. I’d kill myself before I ever did something like that again… If I was even given the chance of redemption after what I did.

I open my eyes as I hear my name mentioned and see that the Capital is replaying everything that’s been haunting me since i woke up.

I watch the black oil like substance hurtle it’s way towards us, and I see it clearly now, Peetas eyes are on me waiting until I’m safe and clear before he runs after me and in that split second decision i’ve made one aswell.

Watching it on the screen was horrifying, my arm reaching for his throat but finding his shirt instead, us rolling together and still the look of murder on my face, so twisted it doesn’t even look like me before Mitch yanked me off and I thanked him by kicking him into the pod trap.

His scream echoed through the screen and I flinched, I’d been so full of rage and out of it I hadn’t heard it or seen as a metal cage lined with spikes shot from the oil, encasing the now dead Mitch.

I close my eyes unable to watch the rest. Monster, monster, monster. My voice spits over and over again, these I can’t shut out. It’s simply my thoughts the more I push it triples.

“Well, what’s next?” Jackson asked out of sight, I glanced around the room yet none of them seemed to look at me. I understood why they wouldn’t, some of them knew Mitch.

I killed their friend. Yet no one responded.

Was it not obvious? “I- I killed him” I whispered, all of their heads snapped like my voice was the last they expected “You should either leave me here or put a bullet in my head so no one else dies”

In the corner of my eye I see a hint of blonde flinch at my words, but I’d nearly killed him if it wasn’t for Mitch… Now he was dead, I didn’t get to live. “It’s the only reasonable solution, you can’t tell me i’m wrong”

“You’re wrong” Peeta cut in before anyone else could agree or disagree, I couldn’t tell by their faces and yet none of them cut into Peeta “You are restrained and we have a watch on you, Mitch knew what he was signing up for, we all did”

I looked away from him. This wasn’t right, my thoughts were against me now but what happened when they turned on him again? Because they would.

“You saved me once, you’ll be saving me this time aswell if you just-“

“No”

My eyes met his and I knew I’d never seen the fire in his gaze that he’d held this moment, Peeta was not budging on this. I frowned, I was a liability why couldn’t he see that?

My mind flashed to solutions, none came to mind. “There has to be a way where if I know i’m going to snap that I can stop myself” My words break at the end as I gaze around the room, there’s only silence “Please… please”

Gale steps forward and I see Peeta take a step but Katniss stops him, and I’m grateful as the brunette boy crouches down and pulls something from a hidden pocket.

A small pill, it was hard to think it’d do what i asked, delicately Gale pushed the pill into my own hidden pocket and patted it “It’s Nightlock, no pain and instant. Only if you have to”

I nodded, hesitantly but promising “Only if I have to”

And with that they set out, planning a course of action. The pods were too often now, they would have to stop constantly.

It was time to go underground

—

- … sooo part three?!?

—

DONT SCREAM AT ME IK IM AN ASSHOLE IM SO SO SO SORRY FOR MAKING YALL WAIT MY GOODREADS GOAL WAS SLACKING HAD TO CATCH UP HOPE YALL LIKE THIS XXXX

taglist girlies💓: @yazminetrahan @solarbxby @abbersreads @antonietta18

[atrueneutral]

'Husband' & 'Wife' Part II (Raphael x Tav)

There's smut in this. [Part I] --- She stared at him.

And he stared at her - waiting for her to strip.

“Is there a problem?” Raphael inquired with faux innocence and a raise of his brow.

Well, no… and yes.

It was neither the act of stripping nor the thought of actually being naked in front of the cambion that delayed her from enacting the first half of her bargain; it was the fact that they had appeared in the entrance hall - and it wasn’t empty.

To their credit, half of the debtors paid them no mind because they had no mind left; they shuffled around in despair, mumbling to themselves whilst the other (seemingly-more-lucid) debtors silently worked on their hands and knees to clean the marble floor with rags and a bucket of water.

Also to their (and Raphael’s) credit, they were clothed.

Suddenly her poor-decision-of-an-offer to clean his House naked became just that: a poor decision.

Another poor decision to add to her List of Regrets…

The List was never to be revealed to anyone, and therefore Raphael would never know how many times his name was mentioned; what he did need to know was that she was a woman of her word (most of the time), and she would, in-fact, clean his house naked for eight hours if need be.

(What-in-the-devil possessed her to say eight hours? Of all the hours! Why not five? Or even two?

One would have sufficed, surely…)

“No, there’s no problem,” she said sweetly, holding eye contact as she began to undo her belts. “It is rather toasty in here…”

His intense, heated gaze wasn’t helping.

Not in the mood to entreat Raphael or the debtors to a striptease, her belts were casually discarded to the floor. Footwear was next in line to be removed, but because her boots did not simply slip off, it became mildly embarrassing as she balanced on one leg at a time and wrestled each foot from imprisonment - all with Raphael watching with crossed arms and the hint of a smirk. Tav smirked, too, albeit with slight sarcasm once she dumped the second boot, and she swiftly moved on to pulling down breeches and smallclothes in one go. She stepped out of the puddle of garments whilst lifting her tunic from over her head, and the pile continued to grow with the added shedding of her brassiere.

All that was left-

“Leave your footwraps,” Raphael commanded, reading her intention of going for the strips of cloth around her feet. He inspected her as Tav straightened to shamelessly stand beside her shorn gear. His brown eyes were unapologetic in their scrutiny, and both she and her arousal unapologetically liked the way the cambion slowly burned a path from her face, down the column of her neck to drink in the sight of her breasts and hardened nipples. Further netherwards they went, trailing along her waist, hips, and thighs to magnetically settle on her sex. “I married well, it seems. You are exquisite. Haarlep does not do you justice - in more ways than one, I’m sure.”

Heat tinged her cheeks (the cheeks of her face, though her other cheeks were warmed from the temperature within the House), and Tav mentally reproached herself; this scenario was leading to danger, which was not good seeing as how the last time she stripped naked in front of a fiend…

“I’m very flattered you think so, husband,” she said with a pinch of haughtiness. “I presume my eight hours has officially begun? Where am I to begin cleaning? It looks as if this hall has been taken care of.”

“You will be cleaning the Archive. You know the way I believe?” Raphael dramatically gestured for her to take the lead down the hall. “After you, my dear.”

Tav stuck her nose in the air and airily began to guide them down the steps and through the passage that led to the dining hall.

“I can’t help but notice that you have yet to thank me for coming to your coin purse's rescue,” Raphael remarked behind her.

“You will get your thanks when I have the breastplate in hand,” Tav replied. “Besides, if anyone should be thanking anyone, you should be thanking me for my offer to do this - let alone in a state of undress.”

“Mm, you are quite right, Little Mouse…” said the cat, his voice dipping into a purr. “Thank you.”

She refrained from glaring at him; there was no-doubt that Raphael was appreciating the view of her assets as they moved through the dining hall and towards the Archive. The loitering debtors strategically fled or turned their backs at their approach, and Tav tried not to pay attention to the worrisome amount of wispy, spectral souls that skimmed through the air overhead.

Thankfully, for this visit, there was no need for her thieves’ tools; the doors to the Archive were open for visitors, allowing her to head straight for the expansive room she had at one time browsed all by her lonesome. During that uninvited drop in of Raphael’s treasures, the Archivist had annoyingly hovered over her shoulder (even after she successfully persuaded him that she was Someone Important), and, by the looks of things, the very same Archivist still had a job.

Not bothering to cover up, Tav stopped a number of feet away from the snobbish servant.

“If it isn’t Verillius Receptor,” the Archivist said snidely after getting over the initial surprise of her nudity. He then smoothed down his hostility once he saw who it was who followed behind and he bowed. “Oh, and my lord!”

“You are not needed - begone,” Raphael ordered in greeting.

Unable to help herself, Tav discounted the Archivist’s presence as she gave Raphael a simpering smile, “I look forward to seeing your treasures up close, husband.”

At the moment of leaving her, she regretted the way her words could be misconstrued as innuendo. Nothing lost on him, her ‘spouse’s’ eyes glinted with amusement - and more.

The ability to sputter like a goldfish was passed from her to the Archivist; his mouth opened and closed as his eyes flicked from her to his lord - confusion apparent. Panic then sprouted, for his delay caused a change in demeanor from Raphael and the servant hastily bowed again before scampering off.

“Close the doors behind you,” added the master of the House.

The Archivist obediently obliged, and the set of doors shut at his exit.

Wanting to avoid Raphael’s stare, Tav appraised the items that sat behind impervious shields. The Amulet of Greater Health and the Gauntlets of Hill Giant Strength remained on their marble pedestals, but the center pedestal was empty of any item or any contract belonging to a specific person.

Raphael stepped closer. “I’ve yet to find anything to match the significance of what was there.”

“Yes, the contract of your Crown’s courier,” Tav answered. She rotated to face him, and her heart stuttered; Raphael was closer than expected - well within arm’s reach. “Congratulations, by the way. As I understand it, you’ve achieved a number of victories since gaining the object of your heart’s desire.”

“Yes, but, as is natural when a desire is fulfilled, another must take its place.” His eyes drifted to her lips, and the rapid beating in her chest hurt. “Would you like to know my latest heart’s desire, Little Mouse?”

“Please share - unless you’d like me to find out through the reading of your diaries.”

His expression turned calculating at the recounting of her indiscretion, and Raphael invaded her space further with a single step, his head leaning in for her ear as he had earlier in the armor shop. A chill coursed through her when the back of a finger ghosted along her arm. “It’s my heart’s desire that each pedestal be cleaned to pristine perfection.”

He pulled his smirking (and stupid) handsome face away, and Tav quelled her own heart’s desire to punch it.

Snap!

At their feet, a bucket of sudsy water and a number of rags appeared from a plume of smoke and embers.

“Be sure to do a better job than the debtors - I’d hate to have to punish my wife.”

Tav internally fumed; he thought to lord himself over her? When there is no contract between them? She could win right here and right now; she could forget the breastplate! She could leave - leaving Raphael a thousand gold short with a breastplate he didn’t need or want, and with the remnants of a bargain to be made between him and the dwarven shop owner!

Tav mentally burned the List of Regrets (to avoid adding her next decision to it).

Oh, she’ll show him! She’ll make him beg!

“I’d hate to be disobedient.” She smiled demurely as she gracefully lowered to a crouch while looking at him. Her head came to be at the level of his crotch as she picked up the rags and then the handle of the bucket with the same hand. Her eyes fell from his face to consider what lay beyond the fabric of his breeches, and Tav caught a sliver of her lower lip between her teeth.

She rose without a second glance to the cambion and swayed her hips on her way over to the first exhibit displaying the Amulet of Greater Healing.

Raphael prowled after her.

“Oh, does my lord husband have nothing better to do than to watch his wife clean?” Tav asked as she stepped up the few stairs. She set the bucket down on the top step, just shy of the pedestal’s base.

“Past experience has told me that I can trust none else in this House to see to it that a mouse doesn’t get into mischief,” Raphael answered, landing at the foot of the stairs and effectively blocking her path from leaving the golden, fenced-in enclosure in which she stood.

“I’m sure the mouse meant no harm in seeing where the cat - no, pardon me, the fox - conducts his business.” Again she crouched, and Tav stuck out her backside as she grabbed a rag and dunked it into the foamy water. The rag was rinsed of any excess before she arranged herself to begin.

“Had there been harm, the mouse would have suffered for it.”

“Duly noted.”

She would clean to the best of her abilities, and she would do it whilst posing in the most provocative manner possible. Currently, this meant placing herself beside the pedestal - her position remaining low as she spread her legs and hovered above the floor on the balls of her feet, giving pedestal and floor an eyeful of her sex.

Nothing for Raphael, of whom she did not bother to acknowledge while ‘focusing’ on her task.

Hand and rag slowly moved up the smooth, arched portion of the pedestal before making its way back down again, wiping the marble of any accumulated dust and grime. When it came to more ‘stubborn areas’, Tav decided to add a bounce to her body in rhythm to her vigorous scrubbing.

“What are you doing, Little Mouse?” Raphael inquired with a substantial drop in his pitch.

“I’m cleaning in the nude - per the terms of our agreement,” Tav said pleasantly, moving to re-dunk her rag.

“Do you typically clean in this manner?”

“No, I typically clean with clothes on.”

“You know my meaning.”

Tav shifted the bucket over and threw a smirk over her shoulder as she once more sunk down and spread her legs - providing the front of the pedestal en eyeful of her front and the cambion a nice picture of all that her backside had to offer. “No, Raphael, I’m afraid I don’t know your meaning.”

“Then let me speak plainly - do you typically clean as if there were a cock beneath you?”

With the bucket slightly out of reach, and because she hadn’t rinsed her rag fully, Tav squeezed a nominal amount of water from the cloth, providing Raphael the illusion that her sex was soaked to the point of dripping.

“Not typically.”

She heard a low growl behind her, which pleased her to hear in more ways than one as she progressed on in her cleaning of the pedestal’s surface. After a handful of minutes, Tav got to her feet to return to the bucket but was stopped by a new directive.

“Move on to cleaning the center pedestal.”

The roughness of his voice drew her attention, and Tav knew she was doomed to live out her fantasies - if not solely due to the look Raphael was giving her; his eyes were dark and glazed over with want, and he gripped the stiffened outline of his cock through his breeches.

The devil was unraveling - because of her.

Tav grabbed her rag and bucket to then sidle up to him.

“Do you typically get aroused while watching debtors clean, Raphael? I wouldn’t put it past you,” she murmured whilst glancing from his eyes to his parted lips - the top of which was frozen in a partial curl.

“Only when watching you,” he replied huskily.

Tav tightened her hold on the bucket handle, lest it slip from her fingers and she make a genuine mess. The urge to kiss and taste that mouth of his was churning within, but she could not give in per the rules she created; he must bend and break first.

“I see.” She smiled as she stepped past him, and Raphael trailed after her to the center enclosure where the empty pedestal awaited to be cleaned.

Tav was at the top step when she paused and thought better of the placement of her bucket. She pivoted and slowly strutted back over to Raphael, who, yet again, acted as a guard to the section’s entrance and exit. The bucket was gently set down to the side, and she half-kneeled before him while she drowned her rag within water. With her eyes on that-which-couldn’t-be-ignored, Raphael capitalized and worked to free his erection from confinement.

It was then that a string of happenings happened within seconds of one another; Tav came face to face with the cambion’s well-endowed and well-engorged cock, her mouth went dry somewhere in the middle of ringing the water from her rag, and there was the painful realization that she might end up as the one begging.

Raphael languidly began to stroke himself - precum gathering at the tip.

Needing to clean and possessed by desire, Tav leaned in and swiped her tongue across the exposed head of him, causing Raphael to groan and twitch. She looked up, meeting brown, dilated pupils that were filled with longing, and there was the cursory thought that he, with his fiendish arrogance and pride, would simply take what he wanted rather than-

Tav’s musings were cut short when Raphael’s other hand wove itself into her hair.

“Tav.”

The sound of her name was perhaps the closest she would hear to a plea, and her response was automatic. Tav licked her lips before bringing them around the head of his cock, taking him into the heat of her mouth and planting her tongue against him. The rag was dropped and forgotten as her hand came to replace Raphael’s in wrapping around his shaft, and she took over in pumping him slowly, causing an audible breath to leave him. His hips reacted, matching her pace, and his fingers entwined in her hair - adding a gentle pressure to the back of her head as it moved.

Raphael’s heady gaze emboldened her to gradually increase her pace - her tongue circling and licking at his head, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked. His shaft became slick with her saliva, assisting her in her strokes…

And then she stopped with a teasing smirk. He growled in disapproval as Tav removed his cock from her mouth, and she did not blink as she snatched her rag and stood.

“Forgive me for getting distracted - I’d better go clean what was requested,” she rasped.

Every purposeful step she took away from Raphael and towards the pedestal caused her cunt to throb with need, and Tav decided to play out her fantasies; she would be the one to bend for him.

Up the few stairs she went with his eyes never leaving her, and she began to leisurely wipe down the top of the pedestal.

Oops! How clumsy of her to drop the rag behind the massive obstruction!

Needing, of course, to retrieve her item, Tav bent over the pedestal, positioning her stomach against the cool surface, and she made a half-hearted attempt to reach the rag while presenting herself to the cambion.

She gently wiggled her ass in invitation, and, at the sound of a burst, bootsteps became jingling bootsteps in their approach.

Her wiggling ceased the moment she sensed and felt Raphael behind her. The fabric of his clothes pressed against her bare skin, his cock nestled between her legs, and a delightfully warm, clawed hand splayed across her back to then follow down the line of her spine. The hand palmed her ass before giving her a firm spank.

Tav yelped in surprise and twisted to glare at the fiendish, winged and horned form of her ‘spouse’.

“A punishment for being so careless,” he said lowly, treating himself to a handful of her smarting cheek. “I warned you, did I not?”

“I suppose you did,” Tav conceded with a sigh. Her expression changed to include a charming smile as she batted her eyelashes. “But, be a dear and get me another rag so I may continue in my duty?”

“No,” Raphael said. His other hand gripped her hip while the hand on her ass traveled to her aching sex. Fingers slipped between her soaked lips and across the sensitive bud of her clit, causing her to jerk and keen. Raphael practically purred at his findings, and Tav gasped when two digits pushed inside her after a moment of exploration. “I have my mouse right where I want her - squirming under my claws.”

He began to pump, and the mouse squirmed as she held onto the pedestal.

“Have you always wanted this, my dear?” Raphael asked, curling his fingers to elicit a cry of a moan from her lips. “Why else would you offer what you did?”

“Yes, I’ve thought about this - too often…” Tav admitted in between breathlessness.

The claws at her hip dug further into her flesh, and Raphael hummed - sounding positively pleased by what he heard in the middle of positively pleasing her with his fingers. Once she was substantially wound up and to the point of nearly-begging, the cambion removed his digits, leaving Tav feeling empty and needing to be filled.

Eagerness and anticipation spiked her blood at the feeling of his ridged cock sliding between her lips. He coated himself with her desire for him before the head of him pushed at her entrance. 

“As have I,” Raphael said, easing himself inside her walls with a shudder.

“Oh, gods!” Tav moaned. The size of him stretched her, and she choked on breaths as they both acclimated to one another.

He began to move, ripping pleasure through her body while both of his hands gripped her hips.

She clung to immovable marble as the devil she knew fucked her from behind. Raphael buried himself within her cunt with each thrust, and his rhythm seemed to match that of primal need. Her head turned to look at him, and his eyes ensnared her with a blazing fire that held flames of possessiveness.

“My Little Mouse,” he growled.

Danger manifested before her, and the meager amount of wisdom Tav had fought to keep her mouth shut - to neither confirm or deny his claim over her.

But every other aspect within her stupidly liked how it sounded…

“Oh, my lord husband! My Archdevil Supreme!” she exclaimed, causing Raphael to shudder again.

Well.

Her wisdom tried.

As he continued to fuck her, Tav wished to have access to her clit to help push her over the edge, but even if she was not to come undone herself, there was immense satisfaction to be felt and seen in the cambion’s undoing. He became absorbed in having his way with her, which was an ego boost as much as it was a turn on, and Tav was confident that her time for sexual bliss would come in the hours ahead.

Cleaning the House was no longer a priority for either of them.

“You should also know how often I’ve thought about you coming inside me - filling me with your seed...”

In exchange for her confession, Raphael growled something feral. A hand roamed across her skin before pushing into the small of her back, and she was held to him and pedestal both as his pace signified that his climax was nearing.

With a last, rough jerk of his hips, Raphael finished and spilled inside her cunt - his fingers trembling against her skin while every drop seeped into her womb.

His hold left her as he leaned forward and braced himself upon the sides of the pedestal surface. He panted over her, getting his bearings, and Tav was stunned when the cambion eventually leaned over to plant a kiss on her shoulder before slipping out of her and stepping back to give her room to move.

Tav peeled herself away from the marble, leaving perspiration behind.

“I would get my rag…” she cheekily remarked. “But I’m afraid I’m not done soiling this pedestal.”

Raphael’s head snapped to her, and he ravenously watched as she hopped up to properly sit upon the marble top, her legs spreading to showcase his come that leaked from her.

“What's next, dear husband?"

[llamagoddessofficial]

”See the cecaelia handbook for further information.” dude, now I gotta know what the cecaelia handbook says. I’m so curious

Why of course!

Welcome to the cecaelia handbook. This section is dedicated to the rare - but possible - event that a cecaelia has selected you as its mate. Please read the following points carefully.

'Cecaelia' is the colloquial term for any siren whose lower half appears to be that of a cephalopod. This can include aspects of squid, octopus, cuttlefish, etc. They can be uniquely dangerous, thanks to their dexterity and ability to temporarily traverse land.

First, confirm that the cecaelia has indeed fixated on you, and its intentions are romantic. Do they gift you small trinkets? Do they offer you food? Do they change colours for you? These are all signs of intent.

Do not reject a cecaelia.

It's important to understand why. In a cecaelia's highly dangerous native habitats, the connection with/protection of a larger partner is sometimes essential to staying alive. In the wild, the ability to prevent a mate from leaving is often considered proof of strength and suitability as a partner. Your cecaelia will view themselves as the larger, 'protector' partner, and will not only see any attempt to leave them as incredibly dangerous and foolish, but as a perfect chance to prove their worth as a mate. They will do everything in their power to 'save' you.

Cecaelia have kidnapped humans over this issue. Here are some better ways to deal with it. If you're not interested- never give it a straight answer. Accept trinket gifts, but do not accept food gifts. If it ever asks about your feelings, insist you're still thinking. In the wild, cecaelia can live for hundreds of years, so it isn't uncommon for wooing to take decades. They are patient. If you are interested- please be certain that you want this forever. There is no going back. Accept trinkets, and eat (safe) foods offered. If you'd like, offer them something in return; some good gifts are coins, simple jewellery, snacks, anything you personally find interesting that can fit in your palm. Additionally, if you don't want to be drowned, be sure to let them know you want the relationship to remain on land. This won't be an issue at all, cecaelia are very open to this.

Cecaelia are incredibly territorial. Both of their dens, and of people they attach to. Try to let others in the area know if the cecaelia has settled nearby.

Unlike other sirens, cecaelia do not typically form social bonds. Do not bring any friends to meet them, and do not mention your friends to them. Family are fine- but any person not directly related you will be considered as a potential threat.

The safest cecaelia are cuttlefish. They are highly social, and frequently engage with humans. The most dangerous are any deep sea variety.

[ghouljams]

Are you fucking kidding me???? Like??? Be real??? I have been asking you to write a fucking executioner!Konig for months and all I get is diddly. But some rando asks for a medieval!cod and you headcanon for everyone BUT Konig????? Don’t ever talk to me again. I hope you date goes bad. Karma is a bitch. I hate you.

- 👹

Where's my call-out post bitch? I'm literally just called you about writing fic for you. What happened to not reading your older siblings writing? Huh???

I'm spraying König with the hose right now, are you happy? Die.

König is a hunter. He likes the quiet of it, the solitude. It's easier to think with a bow or a knife in his hands. And it's simple. Hunting doesn't mean he has to talk to anyone, he sells to the butcher, keeps what he wants. The most talking he has to do is when he goes out to buy bread. Past that there's no reason to say anything to anyone.

Not that anyone wants to talk to him anyway. The deadly hunter, the silent giant, he is feared and respected in equal measure. He lives on the edge of town where he won't get visitors and its enough to make him call himself happy. Whether or not he actually is, is up for debate.

He's hunting when he first sees you. You're by the river, doing your washing against the well worn stones. The quiet birdsong and rustle of leaves accompany your humming. He watches you silently from his hide. The sun hits your cheeks through the leaves of the forest, and you're so beautiful he thinks you might be a nymph or some other spirit of the woods. He doesn't catch anything that day, too preoccupied with his silent vigil.

The next time he sees you is further down the river. He'd been careful to avoid the shallow end of it, not wanting to disturb you or his hunt. It's a wasted thought. You've waded out into the basin of the river, your clothes folded neatly on the shore as you slough off the summer heat and sweat. He watches you longer than he should, longer than is proper. He thinks of you later when he's alone.

He meets you a third time buying bread from the only decent baker in town. He's dropping coin into their waiting hand when you come out from the kitchen with fresh loaves. His mouth goes dry as you catch his eye and smile.

"You're in that house on the edge of the forest, right?" You ask, sweet as can be. He nods. "It must be a long walk here," another nod, "and lonely?" He hesitates, you smile a little wider, "maybe I can make a delivery sometime."

"That would be kind of you," he isn't sure quite how to respond, too worried he'll give himself away if he says too much, or too little.

"Yeah? I figure if you see me more often you won't have to spy on me in the woods." Your smile doesn't falter, König leaves quickly.