#ditch the bow completely

[flashhwing]

tasha's optional rules let rangers respec their fighting style when u reach a level that grants ASI ...... n the warlock initiate feat exists .... i think I can save Dev's build n it'll be funny coz she STILL won't be using any of her actual warlock class features but I can change her to two weapon fighting and give her green flame blade which will make her damage output a little bit insane but she will still have 13 ac so like. glass cannon build ftw

okay so what this will end up being is like. 1d6 (weapon) + 1d6 (slayer's prey) + 1d6 (hex) +1d8 (green flame blade) + 2 on the first hit (plue 1d8+2 on another enemy within 5 feet). then 1d6 (weapon) + 1d6 (hex) + 2 on the second hit. for a total of 5d6 + 2d8 + 6 total damage output. assuming both attacks hit and there's a second enemy within 5 feet.

which feels a LITTLE bit like cheesing but also remember that slayer's prey and hex are both bonus actions, so she needs to take two turns to get those up, during which she doesn't take a second attack at all because that's ALSO a bonus action. so win some lose some? hex is also concentration and costs a spell slot so it's not always gonna be there. so the above is like. OPTIMAL conditions which will not always be the case

AND this will make some sense narratively too because currently we have two frontliners, which are the Very Large Tank barb/fighter and the Extremely Frail Old Man cleric. why is the old man taking so many hits while our ranger, rogue, and gunslinger stay far far back. nah. Dev's gonna take out her swords and take some glory for herself dammit (not that she CARES about father raylen at all she definitely just wants to prove herself. if she's protecting him it's only because he'll be USEFUL to her down the line she is NOT fond of that old man. stop looking at her like that.)

(none of this is applicable until the next time we level up anyway fjdskl we levelled up last session so it'll be A While)

[moondirti]

can i say something crazy? cw: piss. nasty stuff

simon who has absolutely no respect for his bird's privacy.

comes back home from work; all sweaty and churlish and dour, soot caked on his face and hands, welder boots announcing his arrival in heavy, lazy footsteps. he doesn't call for you, but your gentle hey babe sounds from the bathroom anyway, half-distracted by the videos on your phone. the idea of you coddled at home since he left at dawn that morning — cushioned in bed until late, one hand in a bowl of cherries on ice that still drips condensation over your nightstand, the other pushing a new record for screen time on tiktok, the lengths of your legs all soft, bitten, exposed in set of flimsy shorts, cooled by the fan overhead, all ready evidence to why he puts up with as much shit as he does — drives him a little mad to think about. stokes a hunger in him, a mix of pride and masculinity and possessiveness that has him pushing into the room. despite the fact that his needs aren't urgent, not pressing enough to justify this.

this — standing right before you, so that your manicured toes kiss his leather soles. saying nothing as he unbuckles his belt, gruff, quiet, completely uninterested in addressing your concerns when you look up at him with those squinted eyes. it isn't above simon to make you suck him off while you're on the toilet, and really you wouldn't mind, but you get the sense that isn't what this is when he knocks your legs apart with his knees. little fuss to the action, little reaction to your spread pussy.

his cock bounces out about eye level with you. soft. nonetheless hefty and thick and large, bowing down even as he wraps a rough palm around its base. he can see the revelation find you in real time when he places his free hand on the wall behind you. the cresting arch of your brows. the grimace mangling your cheeks. the prissy pout of your lips. if he weren't so exhausted, he might have it in him to take your face right there. it's just the right combination of horror and fascination to get him going.

"simon noooo," you whine, throwing your phone somewhere, scrambling back until you can't anymore, porcelain tank pressing flush to your back. "just wait your turn. please!"

"'nuff of tha'. shush now." he huffs, chuckling a bit when he realises that you only made things worse for yourself by leaning away. your hips now jut out, cunt propped centre of the bowl.

there's no shyness, no stall on the release. his piss comes out in one, hot stream, washing right on target to hit your little clit. you shake your head, so disgusted with him he knows he'll have to make it up later. still, you do nothing to discourage it, sitting in place like a good pet, only occasionally tensing your legs against the steaming shower. some splashes on your belly, some on your thighs and the rim, yet it's never ending. you wonder if he planned this all day, held in the four cans of san pellegrino you packed for his lunch, just so he could give them back to you.

you just don't realise that not all of it is his.

"sad t'be missin' out on th' fun?" simon mocks, finally pulling away. he shakes the last of it off his cock, swiping a hand over his tip, before tucking himself back in. you blink, look down, and realise that somewhere along the lines, you started peeing too.

and have yet to stop.

"it's natural!" you wail, squeezing your pelvis floor in a last ditch attempt to save your dignity. it's no use. having started, it's near impossible to stop. your necks discovers a new type of heat in the humiliation, burn licking its way up your face. your ears tuck into your shoulder.

"yeah, yeah." he patiently waits for you to finish, cupping a hand under your elbow to keep you upright as you stand on fawn legs. his lips are paper thin, fleeting, when they press fondly to your temple. "now off to th' shower w'ya."

your nose crinkles. "you know you need one more than i do, right?"

"and wha's a shared bath?"

[deadsetobsessions]

I just really like the trope of Danny getting summoned, alright?

——

After he shoved Pariah Dark in his coffin shaped locker what what Danny hoped to be for all of eternity, the half unfortunately inherited all of Pariah’s responsibilities.

“What was it again? With great powers comes great responsibilities?” Danny let his head hit the table with an audible thunk. He’s in his “office,” the ghost zone’s approximation of where he might be able to do work seriously. The house- the extension of his haunt- had added the room right next to his bedroom. Danny had to lift all of the paperwork from Pariah’s castle (that’s now also a part of what’s considered Danny’s but he doesn’t think about that) and move it to his main haunt.

He prayed to the universe at large to let him off. Danny hated doing homework- science not withstanding because at least he understood that- let alone an asshole’s centuries worth of work. Danny bemoaned the fact that he was elected the King. He didn’t even defeat Pariah all by himself, so why couldn’t the others do it?!

Like a wave of merciful fate, the beginning tugs of a summoning pulled at his core.

“Thank Ancients!”

Danny scrambled to grab a sticky note, unfortunately glowing green as things tended to in the Ghost Zone, and scribbled down that he’s been summoned and to not look for him until his vacation work was done.

With that note done, Danny decided to bring his A game to the summoning. Allowing his secondary form to wash over him, Danny quickly checked the mirror to make sure he was presentable. A bright glowing ice crown- not the crown of fire, because it was essentially useless without the ring and Danny wasn’t keen on being a king, let alone a near infinitely powerful one- settled across his brow showed his status. A cape, this form’s best feature, made of an expanse of galaxies, nebulae, and frost cling at the end was swept over his shoulders and pinned together with a cloak pin made of clusters of black holes.

A couple of additions to his normal hazmat suit and his trusty thermos at his side, Danny all but dove into the summoning magic with an excited whoop of glee.

As Danny got closer to the magic-made portal, he could hear the whispers of the living presences beyond it.

His summoners! Hopefully it’s not a cult again, even if he thought they were pretty funny trying to summon the king of the dead to kill more people. Not funny “haha,” funny weird.

How should he do this…? Scary? Funny? Oh! Or maybe he should ditch the crown!

Danny grinned, waving his hand to dispel the crown of ice. It was nice, but he was in a dungeon critter mood today.

“Oh, this is going to be gooood.”

Danny cracked his knuckles and put on the most dead-inside-and-outside expression he could manage, modeling it off of the Nasty Burger workers during closing shift. The halfa stepped through the portal.

——

“The ritual is completed! You will all face the might of Pariah Dark, the eternal king of the dead!” The villain of the week cackled as his cult cheered. Wonder Woman, scuffed and injured from the magical bolts these magic users had shot at her earlier, grimaced and raised her sword.

“We will defeat Pariah Dark,” she proclaimed. Her allies rallied at her proclamation and readied themselves for another fight. “This world will not bow to the likes of you!”

“We are all but mere ants before the king of the dead! Pariah Dark will bring forth the reckoning this shitty world deserves!”

“Actually, Pariah Dark’s kind of busy, so you’re gonna have to leave a message.”

Green Arrow’s arrow jerked towards the new voice. Batman paused, hand holding batarangs at the ready. He, out of all of them, knew better than to underestimate a young voice.

A gloved hand shoved through the green portal, using the edges like a door frame to heave itself through. A humanoid shape, with sharp ears all but crawled out of the Lazarus green portal. Batman wondered if this was what Jason saw when he came back to life.

"Lord Pariah Dark is busy?!"

The figure- a boyish not-human- heaved a sigh. "Do you people seriously think that the High King of the Infinite Realms isn't swamped with work?"

"And who are you supposed to be? His secretary?" Hal asked, Ring glowing and at the ready. Wonder Woman tensed and mentally struck Hal away from the list of people to consider for diplomatic missions.

"Me? I'm a glorified paper pusher." The being turned back to the cultists, his cape containing the universe swished behind him. "Did you have a message for Pariah Dark?"

"He was meant to rain down death and destruction!"

"Okay, first of all, I feel like you guys are missing a really important point." The being pointed at the cult leader. “It’s not called the King of the Dead for no reason, you know. Death comes for everyone eventually. Also, I have to do a seriously giant amount of paperwork every time one of you fruitloops gets the bright idea to cause an influx of deaths.”

Danny stomped across the circle, grabbed the collar of the cultist leader’s cloak and yanked him down. He shook him. “Do you people have any idea how annoying it is?! Huh?! Do you know how long the A-354 Form is?! Stop trying to get Pariah to kill people! I’m sick of the paperwork, dammit!”

"How- how did you get out of the circle?!"

The cultists and the heroes squared up, ready to fight the possible common enemy: Danny.

Danny is having the best time of his half life. Screw kingly dignity, Danny’s gotta de-stress somehow! He had a whole bag of complaints!

"You wrote the circle wrong, idiots! Ancients, are you people even literate? What even are those scribbles?" Danny kept shaking the cultist. Wow, what an amazing stress ball!

“Uh- hey, he looks kind of sick…” The Flash said, trying to be a good hero and mediate before escalating. Danny snarled and Flash held up his hands, gulping in fear as Danny’s eyes narrowed at him. “Did I… do something?”

“You,” Danny hissed. “You mother- fruitloop! Stop screwing with the timeline, you giant red-! Do you know how annoying it is to readjust the death count every time one of you little merry red jesters takes a jaunt through time and space?! Do you even know how many complaints I had to field?! Oh, boy you’re all going to regret summoning me today, because I’ve had a long time to think about what I’d do to everyone who made me work overtime!”

Danny bared his teeth, eyes sparkling with mirth as he froze the cultists.

"We're not letting you take over the world," Hawk-Woman said, raising her mace that pulsed with electricity.

Danny snorted to hide his wince. "I'm not interested. Just let me punch him once. Just once." Danny pointed at the Flash.

"Honestly, I can't even blame you," Black Canary muttered, fists raised.

"Wha-! Canary! That's so rude! You traitor!"

"Shouldn't have put skittles in my shoes then. Those hurt, Flash."

"Enough." Everyone shut up at the sound of Batman's command. "What do you mean they wrote the circle wrong."

Danny, who was watching the byplay with interest, shrugged. "They wanted to summon the Ghost King, right? We've had a... change of leaders recently."

"Who is the leader now?"

Danny waggled a finger at Batman. "Nuh-uh. I'm gonna collect my over-time compensation, which is punching the Flash, and then we can negotiate for information."

"Flash."

"I don't want to get punched, Bats!"

"The alternative is that I let the current Ghost King have a go at you."

"Flash."

"Oh my god, just get punched, Barry!" Danny heard Green Lantern Hal Jordan whisper.

"Ugh, fine. No one video this."

Immediately, three phones go up to record the Flash getting decked by a teenage looking ghost. Danny floated closer and wound his fist back, letting loose some of the ghost strength he normally keeps restrained. "This is for my overtime and for Clockwork, you jerk."

The halfa slammed his fist straight into the Flash's face, knocking him clear into the air. Superman catches him but Danny no longer paid attention to the Flash, petty vengeance enacted.

"Honestly, I don't have a problem with you as a person. You're kind of cool. Break the timeline again in the next three months, though, and you're on my shit-list."

"What do you want in exchange for information?"

Danny hummed. "Depending on the level of information, and I reserve the right to not answer any questions. For the name of the current Ghost King..."

He did want that new gaming console. And Jazz could use some help with her rent.

"I want $5,000 and a plate of really good spaghetti."

"I have cash."

Danny nodded at the Dark Knight. "You just carry $5,000 in cash on you? Who does that?"

"I like to be prepared."

"And he's rich," Superman chimed in.

The Flash reappeared with a plate of spaghetti from an Italian place he teleported to. "Here you go. Fresh, and pleasedon'tscrewwithmyafterlife."

Danny shoveled the spaghetti into his mouth, jaw unhinging like a particularly disturbing snake right before he dumped the whole thing- plate and all- down his throat. "Thanks! The food didn't even try to kill me this time! You're good."

"Does your food try to kill you all of the time?!" The Flash- Barry, apparently- asked.

Danny nodded as he took the cash from Batman's gloved hands. "Totally. It sucks."

"Identity." Batman demanded.

"Oh, yeah. The current ghost king is me."

"...What."

"You have been swindled. Bamboozled. Outwitted and outsmarted," Danny snickered, shoving the bundle of cash in his chest. "But seriously, I'm the king. We got rid of Pariah a while ago."

The crown of ice materialized.

"You said you were a glorified paper pusher!" Hawk-Woman chortled.

"I am! I'm pushing so many papers across my desk, it's unending, I swear!"

Batman growled. "You tricked us."

Danny smirked, "You got tricked." Red Robin, in the corner, snorted quietly. "Anyways, if you've got more interesting things around here, I'll considering busying myself with that instead of sentencing you to an afterlife of paperwork."

The adults straightened, grimacing. "Beast Boy is green," Hal offered up.

"Hey!" Beast Boy shouted, offended at the easy way Hal offered him up. He turned to Danny. "But have you ever seen a green chinchilla? Super cute. Watch!"

"Woah!" Danny clapped. Yes, he'll hang out with them before dragging himself back.

[avastrasposts]

Bona Dea - a Marcus Acacius story

Complete brain rot, this story has been in my head since last summer, just needed his name and his status. I'm yeeting this out there tonight even though I said I'd post it tomorrow. I'm too excited, I want to share!

8.6k - porn with a smidgen of plot, mentions of slavery and prostitution if someone wants to avoid that. Some Latin (explanations under the cut)

Enjoy!

Thermae - bath house

Caldarium - the hot pool in the bath house

Servi - slave or servant

Leno - pimp

Lupanarium - brothel

Domina - lady

Dominus - lord

Amita - aunt

Stola - a female dress

Meretrix - a high class prostitute

Concubinus - concubine

Carrisime - dear, beloved, a term of endearment

magnus - greatest

Puella - young woman

Futuo - Fuck

The town had no name, at least not in his mind. Somewhere to the north, where his army was camped for the next few days, a respite for the soldiers before the last march back to Rome. This close to the capital of the empire, there was no need for them to dig in, but he made them do it anyway. Erect the palisade, dig the ditches, Marcus Acacius was proud of the show of Roman military discipline they put on for the peasants in this backwards corner of the empire’s countryside. 

But being this close to Rome meant he and the highest ranking officers could have the luxury of staying in one of the town’s villas. It was nothing compared to the one he resided at in Rome, but for a few nights, it would do. And the local thermae proved adequate, the hot water flowing freely in the caldarium, filling the pool and relaxing his aching muscles. They, he and his officers, had enjoyed a few hours relaxing, taking the opportunity to get properly clean after many weeks' march. Only one last stretch, and then they would all be home. For a while at least, until the emperors decided on a new war, a new part of the empire to conquer and subjugate. 

“I’ll see you later,” he gave a wave to his closest allies, as they exited the bath without him. Acacius was determined to make the most of the hot water and leaned back, stretching out his long legs, flexing his tired muscles. It would be a few more long weeks on horseback before he could do this again. But the next time, it would be at home, and he couldn’t wait to get to it. 

With a groan he sat up and twisted his body, loosening the tight joints of his back before he slowly made his way out of the hot pool and into the cooler parts of the thermae. When he stepped out onto the street again, he felt refreshed, muscles loose and his body clean. He took a long, deep breath. 

“Gallio, go back to the villa, see to it that all is in order for tomorrow's feast,” he said, dismissing his slave without a backwards glance. His servi bowed and hurried off, while Acacius started walking in the opposite direction. He’d seen the tell tale signs of a high class brothel while they rode into town, and he had every intention of finding it and paying for a warm cunt to sink himself into, a good end to the day.  

The sun was sinking behind the town’s wall and the warm December day was starting to cool as he made his way through the narrow streets, following the phallic signs on the walls. The heavy wool of his cloak was welcome now, and he wrapped it around himself. The streets had been crowded before, now they were almost empty, and he found it odd that everyone would step inside so early in the evening. But the door of the brothel was still open and a warm glow came from within as he stepped through the door. 

“Leno!” he called out to the pimp who would run any brothel of this standard, and a man appeared from behind a doorway and regarded him with wide eyes. 

“General, what are you doing here? I have no girls tonight!” the man said, spotting his rank with just a swift glance at his attire. “And I sent home all the males and I was just about to close the doors.” 

Acacius frowned at the man, “Why are you closing up? And where are the girls?” 

“Bona Dea, general,” the leno said, his face apologetic, “All the women of the town are celebrating her tonight.” 

“You gave all the whores the night off just for Bona Dea?” Acacius asked. He knew the festival well of course, it was celebrated all across the peninsula, but the rites and rituals were secret to men, so he only knew that the women of his family would attend the temple and leave the men at home. “Do you not expect any male customers tonight?” 

“General, I apologise, I didn’t give them the night off, they took it, nothing can stop the women of this town from celebrating Bona Dea. And beg your pardon, general, but you should hurry back to your quarters. No man should walk the street after dark on Bona Dea. The women have free rein to do as they wish with any man they find out of doors on this night.” 

“What do you mean, leno? Free rein?” 

Acacius regarded the nervous looking pimp, he was shuffling from foot to foot as he twisted his hands, glancing nervously at the increasingly darker street. 

“Just that, general, free rein. Any man they find, they can do what they want with, rob him, mutilate him, fuck him, or make him fuck someone else, or something. I’ve heard of a man who was made to fuck a goat while the women stood around and laughed, drinking wine, getting drunk and pissing themselves. And no one can do or say anything about it. What happens during Bona Dea, they can’t be punished for, it’s the law.” 

“No law I’ve ever heard of,” Acacius scoffed, “and I’d like to see them try anything with a Roman general.” 

“With all due respect, general, you’re only carrying your pugio, and by law, you can’t harm them, only do as they command. It’s the law of Bona Dea,” the leno glanced at the door again but Acacius just shook his head and turned to leave. 

“They’re only women, I think I can handle myself.” 

“Against a handful, yes. But they roam in packs, twenty, thirty, I’ve heard them pull on the door here and cackle like witches. They can take down even a large man like yourself and then you*ll be at their mercy,” the leno was all but ushering Acacius out onto the street now as he started closing the door. 

“I may enjoy that, my cock was expecting a whore tonight, maybe I’ll have to find one of your runaway girls and make her have her way with me,” Acacius grinned at the nervous looking leno, who just gave him a quick bow, before the door to the brothel closed. 

“Bona Dea….” Acacius chuckled, “a night when women can do as they please? What kind of backwards country hovel is this place?”

He wrapped the cloak around himself again and set out towards the villa, maybe he would find some woman on the way, but he certainly wasn’t about to traipse around this town in search of one. Let them have their festival, he would settle for one of the slave girls at the villa. 

Night had truly fallen now, and the narrow streets were dark, very little light found its way down to where he tried to navigate the uneven surface. The lamp holders were unlit, even the men usually responsible for that seemed to be shying away from their duties on this night. With a curse Accacius tripped and nearly fell as he rounded a corner. The scabbard of his pugio clattered against the rough stones as he caught the edge of the building just in time. He pulled himself up and wiped his hands, stepping closer to the side of the street, putting his hand on the wall for guidance. 

“Futuo,” he hissed, fumbling his way forward in the dark, the only blessing being that this town seemed to be too small for the street gangs that would’ve plagued any street this dark in Rome. 

He came to a sudden stop as a door swung open a little bit further down the street, light spilling out and illuminating the uneven paving. 

“Hey there, keep the door open!” he called to whomever had provided the light, “It’s pitch black out here and I’ve got no torch.” Hurrying his steps now that he could see more of where he was going, he approached the open door. A shadow moved just inside, the shape of a person, and he thought he heard the giggle of a girl. Thinking nothing of it, he stepped into the rectangle of light and was blinded by the shine of a bright oil lamp. Unseen arms wound around his own and he suddenly felt himself pulled, yanked, in through the door, as female laughter erupted around him. Soft hands grabbed his body as he blinked to regain his vision, but before he could see, someone slipped a cloth over his eyes and the world was plunged into darkness again, a tight knot being tied at the back of his head. 

He chuckled, Bona Dea indeed, and decided to play along, feeling female hands pulling him, guiding him, into the house. 

“We found one!” a young woman called in excitement as he felt the air change, and he was led into a room. “A man foolish enough to be out on the streets!” 

The room erupted into delighted, tipsy, laughter. The smell of sweet wine hung heavy in the air and the alcoholic breath of the women nearest him lingered in his nose. 

“Tie him up, don’t let him see us,” came a command from what sounded like an older woman, “and let’s decide what to do with him.” 

Acacius felt himself pushed into the room and his arms were forced behind his back. This was not something he was willing to accept and he shook his broad form, easily discarding whomever was trying to restrain him. 

“Hold!” came the voice of the older woman again, and the woman trying to tie his hands went still behind him. 

“General, you know the rules of this night, you are ours until the sun comes up, you must obey our every order and may not hinder or harm us in any way. That is the law of Bona Dea.” 

Acacius felt equal measure anger and lust rise inside him. He was not a man used to being ordered around, tied up, not in control. But another, more base instinct, was fighting for space inside him, his cock hardening at the idea of being at these women’s mercy if they chose to use him. Not being in control for once, seeing what women would do if he let them use him as he often used the whores at the lupanarium. As long as they didn’t make him fuck a goat, he could see this as enjoyable evening. 

“Apologise, domina,” Acacius said, bowing his head towards the source of the voice, “I will follow the law of Bona Dea.” 

“If that is the case, we will not need to restrain you, general. Leave his hands untied.” 

The last was said to the room and behind him, Acacius heard the woman who had tried to bind his hands together, step back. 

“Bring him to the centre, let us see what kind of specimen the goddess has brought us.” 

Delighted cheers broke out at this, all around him. The room seemed to hold at least ten or so women, and they were clearly excited by the prospect of having a man under their control for the night. 

The woman at his back took hold of his arm and guided him forward, presumably to the spot where he could be seen by all the women. He could hear tittering, giggling whispers as he was left to stand, unseeing, surrounded by them all. 

“Remove his clothes, but be careful. We do not wish to send our general home tomorrow morning with his attire in shambles.” 

A shiver of trepidation, he refused to believe it was fear or nerves, shot through his body, at the words of the unknown woman. The soft shuffling of bare feet on a mosaic floor could be heard as at least two women approached him. Soon deft hands were removing first his cloak and then his belt. Someone knelt and untied his sandals, making him lift his feet as they slipped off. The skin on his abdomen pebbled as his tunic was removed, exposed to the air of the room, even though it was warm. 

The knowledge of unseen eyes on him, as the last of his vestures were removed, was an unsettling feeling. He squared his broad shoulders and straightened his back. If they wanted to see him naked, let them see all of his hardened soldier’s body, he had nothing to hide. What scars and disfigurements he had, he carried with pride as they showed the world what he had done for Rome. 

You stood at the top of the circle, in front of the Roman general who was now stripped of all his clothes, the blindfold the only piece of cloth on him. The younger girls were pleased with what they saw, appreciative hums and gasps were heard from around the room and you could see their excited faces. 

“He’s a fine one, good catch, Julia!” a younger woman exclaimed and she was joined by the voices of others agreeing. 

You could only give them right, he was a fine specimen. A general in the mould of the likes of the great Caesar, kept fit by his army life, living the same life as his soldiers. Not going soft and weak with age like those who turned to politics and intrigue. The man in front was standing tall, his long arms hanging relaxed by his sides, only a slight twitch in his fingers betraying something of his nerves. The golden skin was decorated by scars, old injuries, but gleamed under the light of the oil lamps. By the looks of it, and by the scent of the thermae, he’d been at the bath house before stumbling down the dark street outside your house. 

“What shall we do with him?” you asked, your voice lower, holding a promise and making the giggling of the other women die down. You took a few steps forward in the now quiet room, standing in front of him, taking in his clean scent and the way his still damp hair curled around his ears. You had to look up to properly regard what you could see of his face, he was a tall man, a proud Roman nose, a strong jaw, a handsome face even though you couldn’t see his eyes. 

“How shall we use him? Hmmm?”  

Bringing your hand up and gently touching his chin, the soft scruff of his beard tickled the tips of your fingers. The man didn’t flinch when you touched him, and it made you smile. He had been prepared for your touch, expecting you to explore his body. With slow movements you traced his jaw, down his thick neck, his wide shoulders and down over his chest. Glancing down, you saw his cock hardening, already rising up from between his thighs. 

“Oh, he likes that!” Julia exclaimed behind you, and the room erupted in giggles as the women closed the circle and shuffled closer to see. 

“How would you like to be used, general?” you mused, unable to keep the smile out of your voice at his obvious excitement, and in response, you saw the corner of his lip quirk up. 

“I am yours for the night, domina,” he replied, bowing his head to you again. 

Biting back a smile, you glanced at Julia who was standing at your shoulder, her eyes shining with elation. 

“Shall we see how much he likes it?” you asked her and she nodded, a giggle bubbling up through her. 

“Touch him, amita, make him hard for us.” 

The soft hand that had been exploring his chest slipped down and caressed his belly. He could feel fingernails trailing through the hairs on his stomach, sending a shiver of pleasure down to his cock. It filled with blood and he swallowed back a groan as the woman’s fingers traced the outline of it, an easy touch designed to torment him. 

“Let us hear your pleasure, general,” the woman said, her sensuous voice close to his ear now, the warmth of her body radiating over his skin, “I want to hear what sounds you make when you fuck your favourite meretrix.” 

Her filthy words made him groan again, just as her hand closed around his cock, holding it firm in her warm grip. 

“I like hearing your voice, general. I wonder if I can make you beg for release before this night is over? How hard can we make you before we allow you to spill your seed?” 

The words were matched with a slow stroke of his shaft, holding him firmly, twisting as it reached the tip. Her thumb smeared a drop of liquid over his sensitive head and he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching. 

He felt her move, her hand coming up to grip his jaw, firmly, but not with any pain. 

“Don’t hold back, if you hold back, we’ll make you suffer longer. Let us hear you,” the woman said, loud enough for the room to hear, and he heard the other women agree, telling him to be loud, to let them know how much he enjoyed it. 

He gave a short nod, and she gave his cock a firm stroke before letting go. 

“Cornelia, bring me the olive oil, let’s make this easier for him.” 

Another woman moved in the room and he heard the stopper of an amphora being pulled out. A few seconds passed and then her hand returned to his cock, slick and warmer than before, coated in oil. He didn’t hold back his loud groan when she covered him with the liquid. Firm, slow strokes filling his cock with blood, making it pulse and ache in that familiar, pleasurable way. 

Tilting his head back, he panted, cursing under his breath. Whoever this was, she knew how to stroke a man, a slight twist of her wrist as she came to the tip, pulling back his foreskin as she slid her hand down again. 

“Domina….” he groaned, “domina…”

His breathless moan was met by delighted cheers and he felt his neck heat up, self consciousness washed over him and he dropped his head down onto his chest. 

“Now, now, girls,” the woman said, her hand steadily stroking him, keeping him hard and full, “we want him to give us as much pleasure as possible tonight, let’s appreciate the service he’s giving us and make sure he enjoys himself too.” 

You stepped back from him, just a small step, and let go of his cock. It was a glorious thing, and you even doubted the younger women in the room were experienced enough to appreciate how well endowed he was. He’d filled up rapidly, and now it stood straight out from his tatch of dark curls, thick and weeping, hard as silk covered steel. By comparison, your husband’s member was a pitiful sight, even when erect. 

You took a moment to admire him where he stood, his arms still hanging by his sides, his hands now balled into fists. A red flush had risen on his chest and neck, the beating of his heart was thrumming under his skin, and as you watched, the tip of his tongue came out and licked his lips, a gasp escaping him. 

“Maybe we should give you some small treat too, seeing as you’re giving us your handsome body to play with,” you mused, putting your hand on his firm shoulder. His skin was warm to the touch, and you let your hand slide down along his arm, gently squeezing the hard muscles. You couldn’t resist touching him, he was like a god come to life, maybe even Mars in disguise. 

Taking his hand in yours, you brought it to your own shoulder, using his hand to push the shoulder strap of your stola to the side. The garment was loose, the same simple cloth you all wore on this night, all signs of your social status removed as you celebrated Bona Dea. But it also meant his hand met your skin as he pushed the fabric over your shoulder. The rough fingers were warm and he seemed to hesitate when he felt the stola slip to the side. With a swift movement, you undid the clasp on the other shoulder and let the whole thing fall to the floor, the buckle clattering as it hit the mosaic. You saw him shift his head, hearing the sound and interpreting it correctly. You took hold of his hand again, guiding it to your breast. A smile broke out on your face as you watched his reaction to finding your budding nipple under his palm. His tongue came out again, a quick swipe over his lips, as he inhaled. Letting him feel his way around, you watched him weigh your breast in his hand, thumb gliding over your nipple, making you briefly close your eyes. 

“Show us how you make your meretrix wet enough for your cock, make me ready for you, concubinus,” you hummed, wondering how this powerful general would react to being addressed as one of the pretty men who were kept by some wealthy ladies. His hand stilled on your breast, holding it firm, and you could swear he was searching for your eyes through the darkness of his blindfold. He licked his lips again, and bent his head. The heat of his mouth closed around your nipple as his tongue lapped over it. A whimper came from you, seeing this man bend to your will, doing as you asked. 

“Does it feel good, amita?” Julia asked in a breathless voice behind you, her tone was laced with need, you could hear the arousal coursing through her veins as she watched the general suck at your breast. 

“He’s certainly talented with his mouth,” you replied, the laughter in your voice replaced by a moan when he tugged gently at your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure to your core. The man hummed in response, moving his mouth to your other breast as his hand fell to your hip. Caressing it with firm motions, he slipped it down over your soft belly, cupping your cunt with his hand. The breath caught in your throat as he pushed a thick finger between your folds, making you jerk your hips into his hand as he easily pushed into the wet heat that had gathered at the apex of your thighs. 

“Domina….” he muttered against your breast, “you are well and truly wet enough for my cock already. Can I give it to you?” 

He heard her swallow at his words, her hand coming up and slipping into the hair at the back of his head, the slight sting more pleasurable then he would’ve thought. With a gentle tug she pulled him off her breast, he let her hard pebble slip from his mouth and reluctantly pulled his hands from her cunt when she stepped back from him. 

“Let us all be undressed,” she said to the women in the room, “lay him on the floor and make use of this hard cock that the goddess has blessed us with.” 

“But he can’t come!” one of the women said, her voice a drunken giggle, “We need that cock hard for all of us!”

“You can barely stand, Cassia, too much wine in such a small girl,” another woman called out, and was met by loud laughter and he could hear Cassia laugh with them. 

“More wine while we watch!” she called, “Who shall ride him first?” 

Acacius felt two pairs of hands pull him down, guiding him gently onto soft bedding. As he tipped his head back, someone adjusted his blindfold, making sure he couldn’t see anything but darkness. It was a strange feeling, flat on his back, his cock hard and weeping, hearing the unknown women move around him as their stolas fell to the floor around him. 

“Julia, you caught him, you should have the first ride,” a woman said and the rest joined in, cheering on Julia who was giggling as she knelt beside him. He could feel her hands on his abdomen when she straddled his legs. 

“He’s so big!” she exclaimed and his hips jerked up as her hand closed around his already aching cock, “Much bigger than Appius!”

“Remember, he can’t come,” the older woman chuckled close by, she seemed to be kneeling behind his head, “How should we punish him if he does?” 

There was a murmur among the women as they tossed ideas over his head, someone suggested he’d be made to fuck a goat as soon as he was hard again and he thought he might never get hard if that was the prospect. 

“No, poor goat,” the older woman laughed, “What has it done to deserve that?” 

Acacius silently let a relieved sigh slip out, someone suggested he’d be covered in garum, another thought he should be made to run a gauntlet through the room, that he thought he’d easily manage. 

“Why not let everyone know he was foolish enough to venture out on Bona Dea?” Julia said from her position straddling his thighs. “Take his clothes and let him make his way back to his quarters with this glorious body on display for the whole town? We can send a slave to the encampment with his clothes later on.”

The room erupted in cheers and it was agreed to be the punishment. Acacius gritted his teeth, he could easily imagine the looks of his soldiers, the ribbing he’d get from his officers, if that was to happen. He would have to use every trick in the book to keep himself from coming. Already he felt the familiar tingling in his crotch as the woman called Julia shifted above him. Her hand was firmly wrapped around his cock and when the head met the heat of her cunt, he groaned. Slowly, whimpering at the size of him, she sank down, rocking her hips to take more. 

“Gods, he is so thick,” she panted, her hands flat on his belly as she carefully lifted her hips, letting him slip out before she sank down again. 

Acacius bit down on his lips and hissed out a long breath, “Puella, can I touch you, I want to hold onto your hips, let me fuck you better than your Appius.” 

“You can touch me everywhere, concubinus,” she moaned in response, taking one of his hands in her own and firmly placing it on her breast. He let the other find her hip, gripping on to the soft flesh, he bucked his hips up into her. Her answering cry of pleasure made him bite his tongue, staving off the pressure building in his balls. Squeezing her tits, rolling the hard nipples under his fingers, he continued to fuck up into her, making her bounce on him, he could feel the soft slap of her ass every time she dropped back down. Soon she was moaning loudly, crying out for him and he let his hand slip from her breast, finding the little pearl at the top of her cunt that gave women so much pleasure. With deft fingers he caressed it, his cock twitching as she responded to his touch, whimpering above him. 

“Gods, I’m…” she gasped, her voice giving out as the walls of her cunt gripped his cock, and every muscle in her body froze. She sobbed as she trembled above him, her hand batting away his fingers from her cunt, and he softened the rolls of his hips, fucking her through the waves of her orgasm. 

With a breathless giggle she finally stilled on him, “Sisters, help me up, my legs have no strength,” she laughed and he felt the weight of her lifted from his hips. 

“My turn!” someone called from beside him and the room erupted into laughter. 

“Give him a moment to calm down,” the older woman said with a smile, still close to his head, and he felt her hand on his shoulder as her voice came close to his ear.

“How is your stamina, general?” she asked in a soft voice, the warmth of her breath against his ear even more tortuous than the feeling of Julia’s cunt on his cock. He was hoping she’d fuck him before the night was over, the very thought of how wet she’d been, made him clench his jaw. 

“Still strong enough for these girls, domina, I will save my load for your wet cunt,” he whispered in reply. The tightening of her grip on his shoulder made him smile, he couldn’t see her, but he knew his words had made her press her thighs together at the thought of taking his cock. 

“More wine!” someone called and cups were raised, some wine being spilled onto the floor with sighs and giggles. 

“I might have to offer you my cunt in the end,” his domina, as he was starting to think of her as, whispered back to him, “Most of these girls are too drunk to be of any use.”

“Alba, take your turn,” Julia’s voice called, “And come join me to recover afterwards.” 

The woman named Alba laughed and he felt her legs swing over his hips. She wasted no time closing her hand around his cock, spreading Julia’s arousal even more thoroughly over him. 

“I wonder if he tastes as good as he looks?” she asked and as her mouth closed around the head of him, he groaned loudly, gripping the bedding underneath him and cursed. He could feel his domina’s hands in his hair, caressing his temples, stroking back his damp curls. 

“She’s a tease, that one,” she laughed quietly in his ear, placing a delicate kiss on his forehead. 

He couldn’t responde, only agreeing with a grunt, as Alba’s mouth swallowed him whole, sinking all of him into her throat before she pulled off with a deep breath. Her hand was stroking him up and down in fast motion and he felt helpless against the rising heat in his abdomen, a strangled cry coming from him as he bit his bottom lip hard. 

“Slow down, Alba, you’ll ruin the fun for yourself if you make him come too fast,” his domina said and Alba laughed. 

“I’d better get my fill of him then,” she replied and Acacius felt her adjust herself above him as his cock yet again slipped into a wet cunt. He groaned as she squeezed him, lifting up and coming down over him with a roll of her hips, riding him hard and fast. From across the room he heard some of the women give lazy cheers, clinking cups as they egged their friend on. 

“Ride him until he begs for release, Alba,” one woman called, her voice slurred by the wine they all seemed to be downing fast. 

“I’ll ride him until he makes my body shake,” Alba called back, panting loudly, moaning as he grabbed her hips and slammed his cock hard into her. He was determined to make her come quick, hard, so that he didn’t have to fight against his own aching cock. It was ready to burst, his balls tight between his legs as the unknown woman used him for her pleasure. 

“T-touch me,” she gasped at him, and he slipped his hand around her ample hips, finding the sweet pearl quickly. As his fingers rubbed across it, she cried out, her nails digging into his chest as she drove him in and out of her slick cunt, her walls beginning to convulse around his cock. 

Her speech was incoherent, just mumbled pleas and gasps, her breathing heavy until she cried out. Her thighs gripped his hips tight, slamming down on him and grinding her cunt into his soaked crotch. She whimpered as the orgasm washed over her, Acacius bit his lip, almost drawing blood, as he forced his mind to think of anything but the woman using him for her pleasure. When she collapsed on top of him, the hair on her head tickling his nose, he wrapped his arms around her back and gently caressed damp skin, her heart thumping against his chest. 

In the background he heard a few giggles and tired cheers, but no one rushed up to take Alba’s place. His cock ached deep inside her and he almost wished he’d come, despite the punishment he’d receive.

The other woman, still sitting by his head, shifted behind him, and he heard her stand up. 

“Come, girl, get on your feet, let the poor man breathe,” she said in a soft voice, he could hear her smile. The weight of Alba lifted from his chest and she seemed to stumble to her feet as the woman led her away. He was left on the bedding, his cock still hard and aching, the air of the room quickly cooling it. Reaching up, he grabbed the base tightly, staving off the worst of his impending release, drawing a deep lungful of air to steady himself. 

You led Alba over to where the rest of the young women had collapsed into piles, drunk on sweet wine and the excitement of the night. None of them were used to the wine of Bona Dea and would have no further enjoyment of the general currently splayed on the bedding across the room. Julia gave you a lazy smile as she made room for Alba next to her, both girls spent and sated. 

With a smile at them, you crossed the mosaic floor again, watching as the man gripped the base of his weeping cock and grimaced. Sinking down on your heels next to him, you gently put your hand on his arm. 

“Come, general, this night isn’t over yet.” 

He sat up and you helped him to his feet, taking his hand and leading him out of the room and further into the building. The darkness of the house fell around the both of you, it was late in the night, but you weren’t tired yet. The striking general, stripped of all his attributes, padded on bare feet behind you, his hand in yours, following blindly and trusting you without question. 

You led him to a room softly lit by oil lamps, and left him standing in the middle while you closed the door. Stepping up behind him you gently untied the blindfold, letting it fall to the floor, and as you moved around him, you saw him blink against the light and then find your face. 

“Domina…?” he asked and you smiled as you saw his deep brown eyes in the golden light. 

“There is no law against the men foolish enough to wander into our celebrations seeing the women they are being tormented by,” you said, answering his unspoken question, “What happens on this night stays between the man and the women.” 

He nodded once and you stepped closer, your bodies pressed together, the hard length of him between you, slick against your flesh. His hands were calloused and rough as they gently grabbed at your hips of their own volition, caressing your skin, warming you. There was no hesitation as you reached up and cupped his cheeks in your hands and moved his soft looking lips to your own. He came willingly, a low rumble in his chest as your tongue met his. For a man who had been achingly hard for the past hour, he moved slowly, measured in the way he tasted you, nipped at your bottom lip and touched your body. 

“Touch me again, make me as wet as your meretrix, general,” you whispered against his lips and you felt the corners of his lips pull up in a smile as his hands pushed you backwards. 

“I want to bury my face between your legs, domina. That’s how I get them wet enough for my cock,” he muttered, watching your face with dark eyes, as you continued to step back for him. 

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the thought of him giving you pleasure that way made your body tremble and he noticed, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your legs. 

“I’ve only ever heard tell of some men doing that to women,” you said, the cool metal frame of the bed against your legs, “my husband never did it to me.” 

“I’m sorry, domina, but your husband is a fool. It’s the best way to give pleasure to a woman, to prepare her for a cock like this, and make her enjoyment of the act as great as mine.” 

His warm hands slid down over your hips as he spoke, and now he grabbed them, his strong arms flexing as he picked you up and laid you down on the bed. Settling himself between your thighs, he made you open your legs wide for his broad shoulders. He hooked one arm under your thigh, pushing you open even more, and his eyes made you shiver, as he looked at you with a wicked grin. 

“Take a sturdy hold of the bedding, domina, and let me hear your voice.” 

You pushed yourself up on your elbows and were just about to talk back to him, to ask what skills he thought he possessed. But your question was lost to a moan as he lowered his head and ran the tip of his proud nose along the seam of your swollen slit, following with the flat of his tongue. 

Your head tipped back as you groaned into the room, his tongue finding the sensitive bead hidden among your folds and sending a violent stream of pleasure through your body. Never had a man touched it the way his tongue did, lapping at it, circling with slow steady strokes, making it vibrate as he hummed against your flesh, his own pleasure clearly rising as he feasted between your legs. He seemed to be teaching himself how to draw every debased groan and moan from your throat, coming back to repeat the ones that made you pant and dig your fingers hard into the bedding. 

“Domina…” he mumbled against your cunt, “put your hands in my hair, let me feel how good I’m making you feel.” 

You met his eyes as he lifted his face slightly, his beard and jaw shining with your slick, and it made your insides cramp around nothing. “If this is your first time, let me make it one to remember when you go back to your husband.” 

You nodded, dumbly, moving your hands to his hair, the long curls winding around your fingers as he dipped his head again. He pushed against your leg, spreading you for him, as he drove his tongue as deep inside as he could, the glistening tip of his nose circling your sensitive pearl, making you gasp with every pass. 

The warmth of his hand moved over your leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and you felt him shift on the bed. His tongue was still lapping greedily at your folds, but now it was joined by two of his thick fingers, teasing at your opening. As he closed his mouth around the apex of your thighs, suckling on that bead, he pushed his fingers inside you. 

“Gods….” you cried, your body arching up under him as it filled you, stretching you out. Between your legs you felt his tongue increase its speed, heat rising as he moved his fingers in and out, copying the motion of a man’s cock but curling, dragging, his thick fingers over places inside you that you’d never knew existed. Pleasure all but exploded in your body as you groaned for more. 

“Dominus…please…I’m…” 

The fingers on his free hand dug into your flesh, holding you down as he moved up onto his knees, pushing you into the bedding with his body. You saw him work his jaw, feasting on your cunt as he drove your pleasure higher, his fingers pushing deep inside, curling and stroking, driving you towards an edge that you were almost afraid to fall over. 

“Dominus,” you wailed, locking eyes with him as he looked up from between your legs, his mouth still licking every drop you fed him. His dark eyes, wild and almost mad with lust, bore into you, and with one more thrust of his fingers, he pushed you over the edge. You could feel his eyes on you as your whole body seized up, ecstasy coursing through every fibre, your throat raw as you sobbed and groaned. His fingers were relentless, stroking you, working your cunt into submission, prolonging every wave of pleasure that radiated from where his mouth sucked at your folds. 

With tired hands you pushed him away when it became too much, your body was shaking, your breathing ragged, and he gently let go of your body, his fingers slipping out. 

“Carissime,” he growled, crawling up over your body, “let me fuck you, let me spill my seed deep inside this tight cunt, and claim you as mine.” 

His skin was damp and hot as he covered you with himself, sinking down on his forearms and placing wet kisses along the side of your neck. The roll of his hips against you made him groan between each kiss, his cock was flushed red and weeping, denied release for so long. His words sent a fresh jolt of arousal through your mind even though your heart was still hammering from what he’d already pulled from you. 

“Carissime,” he repeated, sucking hard on your neck, sure to leave a mark, “Let me fuck you, or suck my cock, just give me release, let me spill myself over your soft tits, I need your body.” 

His pleas wrapped themselves around your head, your limbs grew hot, and the heat between your legs returned. 

“Fuck me,” you whined, grabbing at his shoulders, pulling him down over you as your hips rolled up against his hard length. 

“Tell me how, domina, order me, please Bona Dea. You only have one night to take what you want from me.” 

His breath was scorching against your skin as he moved down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking hard at it, nipping, giving you both pain and pleasure that made you whimper and push him closer to your chest. 

“Fuck me from behind, use me like a meretrix,” you said, it came out more like begging, a desperate plea, “My husband never wants to fuck me like that, and never hard, but I crave it, I want to feel your thick cock for days to remember this night.” 

Acacius muttered as he pushed himself up, leaving your breast tender and shining with his spit. 

“He truly is a fool of a man. To have this tight, wet cunt in his bed every night and not fuck it like it deserves? Were you in my household I’d make sure you’d never go unsatisfied again, keep you in my bed day and night.”  

He’d risen to his full length, standing by the side of the bed, and again you took in the glorious form of this man that Bona Dea had blessed you with. His skin had a sheen of sweat, his curls in disarray, and that cock, hard and flushed, weeping from the tip, ready to sink into your cunt. It made your mouth water and the general noticed. 

“Come here, carissime, on all four and turn that sweet ass to me,” he slapped your ass cheek and grabbed your hips, pulling you back towards him. “I can’t tell you how much I look forward to fucking you as hard and rough as you wish. My cock has been waiting all night on being sunk deep into a cunt as sweet as yours.” 

It made you whimper, the way he talked to you, and on instinct, you curved your back, opening yourself up to him. He growled and squeezed your ass again, spreading you open for him to see where his cock would slide in. The blunt head dragged through your folds as Acacius coated his cock with the juices leaking from your puffy folds. It made him hiss, and with one last shred of self control, he grabbed your hips, and slowly sunk into the wet heat, feeling your walls stretch for him, clenching tightly as you moaned. 

“Gods, carissime,” he groaned, his fingers so tight they were sure to leave marks on your skin, “you have the tightest little cunt I’ve ever felt, your husband is a fool, I might have to order him to divorce you, so that you can come to my villa.” 

With a low grumble, he pulled out almost all the way before he pushed in again, harder this time, and it made you keen under him, your core contracting to hold his cock tight. 

Acanius leaned over your back, his hot skin on yours, and he grabbed your hair, winding his fingers into the previously so well maintained hairstyle. Now the curls spilled through his fingers as he pulled your head back. 

“Mi meretrix,” he hissed, “are you ready? I won’t hold back, I can’t.” 

You could only moan a breathless Yes under the weight of his body, your core contracting and pulsing around the thick length of his cock buried deep inside. His voice was strained and taught, he had no self control left. The hand in your hair tightened its grip, the other took a steady hold of your hip and he pulled out. 

When he slammed back in, you cried out, pleasure shot through your body as the impact caught every sensitive spot inside your slick cunt, but he gave you no respite. He set a brutal pace, grunting and panting behind you like a bull, holding you in place as he slammed his cock into your heat over and over, praising your cunt, your tight heat, your body, your willingness to let him use you like this. 

You could only take it, it was like no fucking you’d ever done, he filled you up, not just your cunt, but your whole body, your mind and every sense left tingling at the onslaught. All that filled your mind was how full you were, how his cock felt as it stretched you open, splitting you down the middle, making you cry out in pleasure and need. The man behind you was relentless, his sweat dripped down on your back, scorching hot drops on your own overheated skin. With a growl like an animal, he wrenched you up, flush against his chest as his arm banded across your breast. The rough pads of his fingers immediately found your aching pebble between your legs and circled it, drawing tight patterns that made you wail and cramp. He changed his angle, fucking up into you with the same unforgiving speed and power, and pulled your head back on to his shoulder, his mouth finding your ear, warm breath and gravelled words spilling from him. 

“Carissime, come for me, choke my cock with that tight little cunt of yours, I’ll dream of you on my march back to Rome. Give me the sweetest memory to think of as I fuck my hand in the night.” 

His cock was spearing you, pushing hard and deep inside, while his fingers found the very core of your pleasure. 

“C-come for me, now, I can’t…I can’t hold myself any more,” he panted, his rhythm stuttering, you could feel his cock twitch inside, he was falling over the same edge as you, his body tensing up, the muscles of his stomach contracting against your back as he groaned loudly in your ear. 

“Futuo!” he cried out, and your cunt closed around his cock, your body taught as a bow string under his strong arms as you sobbed into his neck, turning your head to feel more of him as your body convulsed and trembled, the muscles in your legs giving in until it was only his arms around your body that held you up. 

Acacius groaned and cursed as he pumped into you, hot ropes of cum shooting out and filling up the tight cunt that gripped him so hard. His rhythm was faltering, he could hardly move, his eyes were blurry, he held you up as his own legs gave in. With a stumbling step, he pulled you both down onto the bed, falling on your side with his cock still deeply buried in you. He pressed his face into your neck, breathing hard, the build up of the last hour finally being released. His hips jerked, pumping the last of himself into you, and then he stilled. You could feel his arms tight around your chest, his breath against your skin, even his heart beat could be heard in the now quiet room. 

The muscles in your body felt like lead, warm lead flowing out over the bed. How you’d ever move again, you weren’t sure. Your eyes were impossible to open, the general’s body a heavy weight over half of you, he didn’t seem too keen on moving either, his breathing growing slow and steady. You both stayed still in the silence and the afterglow, not wishing to break the spell of Bona Dea. 

A few hours must’ve passed before he stirred again, the light outside the small window had changed. He lifted his head and looked around the room in confusion for a moment before he remembered where he was. The woman was still underneath him, half covered by his body. He could feel his soft cock still laying between her legs, he hadn’t even pulled out before he fell asleep. With curious eyes he regarded her now in sleep, a woman of his own age, beautiful with the features of someone of noble birth. Gently he trailed a finger across her soft cheek, carefully moving his weight from her. But his movement caused her to stir, blinking awake as he looked at her. 

“General,” she mumbled, sleep still clinging to her features, as she rolled over onto her side to face him. He held himself up over her, cupping her cheek with his hand, slowly caressing every line. 

“Morning approaches, I must go back to my men and explain my absence,” he said, “Domina, you have given me a night I will never forget.” 

“As have you, general,” she smiled in reply, “My cunt is still sticky and I believe I will feel this ache for days.” 

He chuckled at that, swiftly moving his hand down to cup her sex instead. 

“I wish I could stay and give you more nights,” he said, slipping a finger gently between her folds to feel his own seed still leaking out. She gasped as he brushed across her sensitive bud, letting his fingers caress it softly before he pulled away. 

Regretfully he shook his head, “But I’m expected in Rome and my army must march on.” 

“Come back next year, if you can,” she said, “Bona Dea will always welcome you into this house.” 

“If our emperor doesn’t send me away on another campaign, I will do my utmost to come back, carrisime.” 

The endearment fell from his lips with a soft smile and she pulled him down towards him, her lips finding his, tongues meeting again. She was warm, irresistible under his hands, he groaned and felt his cock twitch, somehow growing hard again. 

“Carrisime,” he whispered against her mouth, “I must go, but come find me if you’re in Rome.” 

“What is your name, optimus?” she smiled at him. 

“Marcus Acacius, domina. Come find me, let me taste that sweet cunt again.” 

“I will, Marcus, maybe I will leave my husband at home and come find my magnus concubinus.” 

Part Two

Tagging the lovely crowd from the preview post!

@angiewatson @i-own-loki @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @lady-bess @nerdieforpedro @legendary-pink-dot @musings-of-a-rose @for-a-longlongtime @oberynslady @chaoticfestninja @joelssapologist @mduluozz @jessthebaker @hellofeyradarling @pascalislove @flyingthroughheaven @criticalarchitecture @brittmb115 @dammit-hoechlin @li-anne @luly0607 @snow3096-blog @rainbowcat164 @suddendownpour @sherala007 @groovy-hippie-chick @grippysockedtoebeans @bonafideslacker @tupelomiss @rhiannon-girl @verge-of-tears-again @truffles-cat @jay-zzle @rav3n-pascal22 @chronically-ghosted @allaboutthebeskar @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @casa-boiardi

[ckret2]

How did you come up with your human Bill design?

I described my goal in the first post I made about his design:

After seeing dozens of tall dapper skinny white twinky anime boy Bills, I wanted a design that matches none of those words. My other two goals were to use the show’s art style; and to lightly pay homage to Alex Hirsch’s “canon” human Bill with the triangle body… except not deliberately hideous.

My unspoken final goal was "and I'm gonna make him damn good looking."

All the colors were sampled from Bill & Bipper, except his skin (which I sampled off a background character and tweaked until it looked good with the yellows) and his gold tooth (which I sampled off of Ergman Bratsman's).

On top of the fact that I was tired of specifically white dude Bills, brown skin tone was chosen because of the emphasis on Bill's interactions with ancient Egypt; I wasn't sure at the time how much of an influence I was gonna headcanon he had on the region, and it woulda felt weird depicting Egyptians bowing down to a white dude. (And then I decided to deemphasize his influence on Egypt almost completely lol.) It woulda been more accurate to go darker, but I was worried it would start to tilt his design into Nyarlathotep-esque Creepy Pitch-Skinned Mysterious Demonic Threat From The Orient racist territory, especially when he's already got demon eyes.

The triangular torso is the most important part of his design, I usually draw an equilateral triangle in the sketch layer and then pad it out.

If I were a better artist a year ago, I would have given him a double chin so his head+torso together would be triangular. But when I tried, I couldn't figure out a way to draw it that looked appealing instead of like a mean fat joke. So I took the coward's way out and gave him a skinny neck with a vaguely triangular chin, and now write him complaining about having a neck every few chapters.

I think the skinny neck, thinner face, noodle limbs, and typical baggy hoodie fooled people into assuming he's skinny. I figured out a way to draw a rounder face with less neck that looks more appealing to me than the original face, so I do that now. Can't do anything about the noodle limbs tho, those were chosen to match Bill's canon noodle limbs.

I went for a hoodie instead of the typical suits you see on human Bills for two reasons.

One: several years ago I had an OC I'd conceived of as a dumb kid who'd given Bill permanent standing permission to use her as a puppet, and when letting Bill take over she'd hide her human features by wearing a hooded poncho and tying a blindfold with an eye on it over the hood, and that idea stuck with me.

And two: for the story I came up with this design for, the premise is that Bill's been recently unhappily stuffed in a human body and dumped on his enemies' doorstep. So, he doesn't have the freedom or money to get fancier clothes; he's too depressed over being stuck in a human body to care much about his human appearance; and he's most comfortable in something that obscures his human anatomy and reminds him of his real form. If he was rich, free, and able to ditch the body any time he wanted, he'd be wearing suits.

[maple-the-awesome]

Body Swap || Part 1/2

Part 2 ||

Pairings: Wild, Four, Sky, Hyrule x Reader

Overview: A wizard's spell leaves you both in a state of confusion, especially upon realizing you're no longer in your assigned bodies. No Wind for this one, so we'll just give him a cookie and spare him the trauma for today -.-/🍪 The other boys are at my mercy, though

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

This dungeon had been going great - so great, in fact, that you were actually sad to reach the end of it. Sure, the puzzles were a pain in the butt and the miniboss was an embarrassing waste of time, but what had made it all worth it was the fact that you had gone through every trial right by Link’s side. 

In a group of ten travelers, a date day with just the two of you is rare - extremely and unjustly rare - therefore you had both jumped at the chance of completing this dungeon alone together. Everything was going swimmingly, too, right down to the main boss battle. A tiny, itty bitty yet still very evil wizard is nothing compared to your combined force, so you expected it to be a piece of cake that would end in a wonderful memory to look back on later. Instead, it ended in a very different, less appreciated way.

One more hit was all it should've taken to defeat the little guy, however right as Link raised his bow for the final arrow, the wizard began swinging its wand around in a last ditch effort for success. Fearing for your partner's safety, you had rushed over with your shield, hoping to use it to block whatever spell the wizard planned, but in an unexpected twist, said spell turned into a cloud of smoke instead of a ball of energy like you expected.

As the boss made his escape, the fumes of his final spell poisoned the air and entered your lungs with an uncomfortable burn. Link and you both fell to your knees in coughing fits, suddenly feeling dizzy and woozy much to your concern...

Aside from the initial wave of nausea you felt, that wizard's spell seemed like nothing more than a harmless distraction for escape, at least that's what you would've went on thinking if not for the sight that greeted you once the smoke officially cleared.

"Oh jeez! ...Uhhh, are you alright?" Although a shock indeed, you remain calm with your first priority being to check on Wild who's still fanning away the fumes from his face.

"Yeah, I'm alrig -" He freezes almost as soon as the words are said, his eyes immediately shooting open to look down at his body - or rather your body that he's suddenly found himself in, "WHAT THE -?! HOW AM I - I'M YOU?!"

“Very observant, Wild,” You roll your eyes before looking around the room to find no sign of that wizard. Whether that’s fortunate or unfortunate might depend on your ability to reverse this little problem he’s now left you both with, “...Guess that little guy was such a sore loser he decided to play dirty then retreat. What a coward.”

Standing up, you start examining yourself for possible injuries - ones that weren't already a part of Wild's collection, that is. Thankfully you see nothing aside from a small cut above your hip from a hit he had taken earlier; an easy fix with the help of a red potion. If only the same could be said about your incredibly tangled hair that you pull a leafed branch out of with a cringe, "When was the last time you've taken a bath?"

"Rude!"

"Personal hygiene is very important. It keeps you from harboring full-on ecosystems in your hair."

"...You sound just like the Captain…" Wild mumbles under his breath while pushing himself off the ground. Once up, he wobbles and holds his arms out for balance as if he’s never stood on two legs before.

"Oh, the Captain! He’s going to have the time of his life with this one - all the boys will, I'm sure,” In Wild's opinion, your teasing smirk doesn’t quite carry the same effect as it would if on your assigned face. Instead, it looks a bit...silly to see you speaking as himself and judging on your sniffled laughter, he, too, must look equally as funny glaring back at you as you. 

"Ugh. I can already hear Twilight blaming us for not being careful enough," He groans, subconsciously runs his hand over his arm which is smooth like silk rather than being rough with scars. Huh. He had forgotten how that felt...

"Yep, we're in for a heap of nagging and annoying jokes when we get back, but I say we at least have some fun with it while we can. Wanna see how long it takes anyone to notice?" You nudge his side as you pass by towards the exit of the boss chamber, your suggestion finally lifting his spirits.

"I don’t know. It could take them all night if we keep our mouths shut about it."

"No way. They'll notice as soon as I do something stupid and you don't, which should take approximately an hour at most…I mean, assuming that you’re not asked to make dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well in that case, they’ll definitely notice then. You’re a terrible cook.”

“Rude!”

You moan while rubbing your burning eyes. Even with them closed, you can still see remnants of the same flashy colors that had followed after that wizard’s stupid spell; like a firework show inside your eyelids that's so realistic you can actively smell the gunpowder.

"Don't panic," You hear someone say. You assume it must be Four since he's the only other person here, although his voice sounds different, almost like…

"Don't...? Why would I panic - AHH!" Once finally being able to see straight, you expected to find Four kneeling in front of you, but instead you just see yourself. It's as if you're looking directly into a mirror until you glance down at your hands. That's when you let out a shout, doing the exact opposite of what Four asked by instantly panicking upon realizing they aren't actually your hands, but his. Your clothes, your hair, your BODY; IT’S ALL HIM!

"I’M YOU!”

"I can see that."

"YOU’RE ME?!”

"Yes."

"...H-How are you not freaking out?" You blink at him - er, you? Whoever! You blink at who should be Four but is actually you as he simply shrugs in response to your question as if this is just another Tuesday for him!

"This isn’t really the ‘craziest’ thing that's happened to me. Maybe in the top three, but..."

You stare at him for a long minute, wanting to be angry that he's behaving so calmly right now, although he does have somewhat of a reputation for being one of the more relaxed Link's, not to mention the pair of you have seen some pretty crazy stuff during your adventures, both separate and together.

Running a hand through your hair, you take deep breathes and try your best not to be so freaked out especially once remembering this isn't technically your hair you're touching which makes you instantly stop the action, "...What do we do to fix this?"

"I...don't know."

"You 'don't know'? What, are we supposed to just live like this forever?!"

"No, of course not!" He crosses his arms uncomfortably and sighs, "We'll find a way to reverse the spell and get back to our normal bodies. We're in Legend’s world, but I think he mentioned that his Zelda knows some magic, so if we can get to the Castle, she might be able to help us."

You groan, running your hand over your face in irritation. You were having such a good day until this point! Why can't the universe allow you just one normal evening with your boyfriend, huh? Is that too much to ask for?

Four offers you a hand and helps you up. Once on your feet, you realize yet another detail about your current situation that makes you uncomfortable, "Woah. I'm not used to looking at myself from another perspective like this…or being so low to the ground.”

Four rolls his eyes at your comment before taking your hand and dragging you after him outside of the dungeon.

"Oh, come on! Doesn't it weird you out, too? Looking at yourself from my point of view while I’m in your body?"

"Of course, it’s weird,” He sighs again, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I'm just considering myself lucky I'm only looking at one of me."

"...One?"

"Sky? You alright?" You crawl blindly out of the smoke cloud, coughing along the way while keeping your eyes squeezed shut to prevent anything from getting in them. Although you receive no verbal reply, you can at least relax upon hearing Sky's wheezing close by. 

You’re about to repeat your question, yet your voice dies within your throat. Once opening your eyes, you see yourself kneeled on the ground where you fan smoke away from your nose with a face scrunched up in irritation – except that’s not really you. It can’t be! You’re right here, so how is it that you’re suddenly able to look at yourself through a third person perspective? …Then you look down, slowly but surely putting the pieces together in your head.

"...Sky?" 

Just as predicted, the 'other you' looks up in response, even giving a small hum before their eyes go wide with the same shock you undoubtedly mirror.

“(Y/n)? Is that you? You’re –“

“- You…And you’re me,” It doesn’t matter how many times you close your eyes and reopen them. Each time, you’re greeted by the same sight. Thanks to that stupid wizard, you’ve switched bodies with Sky which definitely wasn’t on your agenda for today…or any other, for that matter. Worst part? Neither of you know a thing about magic to reserve this, “…Shit…”

“M-Maybe someone else knows how to fix this?” Sky suggests hopefully, although judging on his waivered smile, even he must realize it’s a long shot. Not many Links are accustomed to magic either, and believe it or not, no one’s been in this situation yet not that they’ve ever cared to share, anyway.

“Here’s to hoping…Come on, we should at least get out of this place before that wizard comes back and switches our heads,” Sky gulps, but nods.

Standing to your feet, you brush yourself off and prepare to make your exit from this dark boss’s chamber, however you pause in place when you notice Sky following you at much slower pace, his posture rather stiff as he holds his arms slightly away from himself, “…Why are you walking like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like…” You copy his stance then give him a pointed look that makes him bow his head in embarrassment.

“I-I don’t want to touch something I’m not supposed to!”

"Awww, that’s sweet, but dude, you can relax. They're only feminine arms. They won't kill you," You roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at how careful and sweet he's trying to be. If there’s one thing to be grateful for in this situation, it’s that you got switched around with a gentleman instead of a pervert, "Just don't touch my breasts or anything and we’ll be good.”

Poor Sky whimpers uncomfortably after your comment…Yeah, hopefully this situation can be solved without leaving any lasting trauma behind...

"Mmm...Hey, are you alright?"

Hyrule's voice sound so distance despite him being so close by. You wish you could see him, but every time you try to open your eyes, you're only met with blurred colors and sparkles, "...I-I think so..."

Hyrule sighs and is about to say something else, but his relief is instead punctuated with a gasp once he looks down at his hands. He whispers your name, however his voice goes unnoticed the first time. He has to shout it a bit louder for you to actually hear him. Finally, you're able to open your eyes and see a bit more clearly - at least that's what you thought before looking over to his voice and just seeing yourself.

"What kinda spell was that? My eyes aren't working right," You start vigorously rubbing them again only for Hyrule to reach out and grab your wrists to stop you.

"They're working. At least, I-I'm pretty sure they're working. You, uh, see yourself instead of me, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I see myself instead of you."

"Okay?"

Hyrule bows his head, removing his hands from wrists to stare down at them with a wobbled frown, "I don't think it's a trick of our ours. I think that spell switched our bodies."

"...Oh...Oooh!" After his words sink in, you glance down at yourself and pick at your tunic, confirming that it feels as real as it looks.

“Alright. This might seem bad, but look on the bright side: neither of us are hurt so the others can scold us too much, right? Let’s just get back to camp and –" Hyrule’s cut off when you suddenly squeal. Startled, his head snaps back up at you, fearing that perhaps you had gotten hurt somehow, yet to his surprise, you have a bright smile on your face as you tangle your fingers in your hair – or rather his hair.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s just – I’ve always wondered if your hair is as soft as it looks and it definitely is!” You giggle, unable to help yourself from testing your theory personally. Hyrule's hair has always appeared to be the fluffiest out of all the Links and you've been dying to ask him if you can touch it, perhaps even braid it. Now that you technically in his body now, might as well, right? It's at least some benefit to this weird situation, “What do you use to wash it?”

"I, uh...water, I guess?"

“…”

[aonungsmate]

Hellllooo

So I was reading ao’nung x reader fanfics and like I came up with an idea that was stuck to my head ever since. So like there’s a sound on TikTok where it’s like : “you’re not good enough for my daughter and I don’t want you to be around her, end of story” …..”so why don’t you give me one last chanc-“ but on ao’nung x sully!reader where she’s like younger than neteyam and Lo’ak, she’s the kind of girl who can be strict but gentle at the same time, help her grandma and mom to make food, heals, the type of girl that dads would be like “girls like you shouldn’t be bla bla bla” the type to walk grandmas on the cross way, type to open a bakery by herself and call it the Sully’s Family Bakery 💀 . So ao’nung wanted to court the reader but Jake, Neteyam and Lo’ak aim buying it so ao’nung had to come with some Metkayina specialty and gifts and maybe even fruitier a song 💀 but Jake is just a protective dad and it turned down to reader scolding 4 dudes who’s like almost twice her size about how she’s mature enough to know who would treat her right and stuff and kiri, Tuk and neytiri is just enjoying the scene 💀

I Hold The World, But You

Ao'nung x Sully!Reader[Word count: 2.8k]

Ask and you shall receive- This is me ditching my written reports to feed all of you <33 Thank you so much for requesting anon!

Warnings: Nothing notable! Please do inform me if there is!

Ao’nung has never really known what it means to be alive.  He never faced any oppression nor any hardship of notable difficulty due to his social status.  Being the son of the olo’eyktan entails so much prestige, but he’s never really known how to live.  Not until he met you.

The moment you were born, you have always known the dangers of living.  Having been born into a family with warrior parents, who were both victims of war, evident pain is still visible in their eyes.  You were Jake Sully and Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite’s third child, their first-born daughter after they decided to call Grace’s daughter, Kiri, their very own.  Growing up as the daughter of the Toruk Makto and olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya meant bearing the horrors of reality that the na’vi have been facing for years.  Your father was deemed responsible for leading the forest people into many victories against the sky people, along with your mother and the former olo’eyktan, Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan, one of the finest warriors that the omatikaya clan who was known for leading the na’vi against the RDA forces in the assault on The Tree of Souls.  

“I tried to kill your father the first time we met.”

Having been born into Jake Sully’s family meant so much more than being a warrior’s child.  Your childhood was filled with love.  Your older brothers, Neteyam and Lo’ak, complete polar opposites but are both very protective of their younger siblings.  Neteyam, the finest candidate for the next olo’eyktan, the one who obeys to live up to expectations and earn the title of being a mighty warrior, and Lo’ak, the older brother who gets into so much trouble  to try and live up to expectations, most protective of you, but incomparable to your father, who acts as both armor and bow against the dangers of the world.

You grew up being taken care of by your older sister Kiri, befriending nature through her imaginative mind and immense affinity for connecting herself with the things that surround her.  Your family always knew that there was something special going on between Kiri and the world itself.  As if she’s connected to the things you see everyday, she would always see things from a perspective that you would assume Eywa would have.  

The scientists were not the only people left in Pandora.  You have also been introduced to Spider, a human child that was too young to be put through the cryo chambers.  He has greeted each of you as friends, and you do the same with him.  Despite your mother’s distaste in his presence, she couldn’t really do anything, for you and your siblings loved him as you would a friend.  You thought he was a strong person.  Someone you look up to, because he always seems to overcome his limitations as a human.

It wasn’t long before Tuktirey was born.  The most adorable sister you could ever have, although a bit of a telltale, much to your brother’s chagrin, she was loved by the whole family.  She looks like a bit of your father, and a bit of your mother.  Tuk practically looks like a mix of your parents.  You love it when she would play with your braids.  But most of all, you love it when she would turn to you for more stories and dreams that you would have, carrying the innocent curiosity that a child like her would have.  

You loved your siblings.  You really do.

But right now?  Things are just being so ridiculous.

“No, you cannot court my sister, Ao’nung,” Neteyam shook his head firmly, placing a protective arm in front of you, attempting to shield you from your suitor.  There your brother was again.  He’s having one of those stingy fits where he would deprive you and your lover of spending time together.  Apparently, there was this thing called ‘codes’, where you cannot see your friend’s sister in a romantic way.  The idea of it was ridiculous for you.  

Really.

“Brother, you cannot have a say in this.  You are not the one who is being courted,” you pushed his hand away, flashing a bashful smile at Ao’nung, being enraptured by his viridian eyes.  Your eyes were swirling with love and a mix of nervousness as they met those of Ao’nung’s, only to be interrupted by Neteyam.  “You are not to be courted by him (y/n), that is final.” 

Just what bad deed have you done to deserve this?  You obeyed your elders, went to hunt when told to, helped your fellow na’vi when being asked for help, learned healing, and healed others.  Eywa!  You even learned to cook many dishes after hearing your grandmother complain about how the food being prepared is becoming bland, if it were not for her cooking teylu.  You would always say yes to anything that your family asks of you.  

You always thought that you would not be able to say no to your family.  Maybe there are things that do surprise you.  Just like how your brother Lo’ak, is hissing at Ao’nung at this very moment.  

“What is going on?” you ran towards the direction of the two young men, carrying firewood that your mother had asked you to fetch for her.  There, you found your older brother hissing at your friend, for an unknown reason that somehow, you didn’t want to know.  Therefore, being the most resourceful person in the scene, you opted for the firewood, pushing them in your brother's arms and pulling him away from the metkayina boy.  “I am sorry Ao’nung, we will see you tomorrow!”  With a sweet smile on your lips, how could Ao’nung complain?  A boy who’s as smitten as him could never go against your wishes to stop the fight before it escalates.  Ao’nung’s head always tends to tell him to go big or go home, but right now, that saccharine smile was his priority.  He wouldn’t take the risk and make you cry, no.  

He would rather battle a hundred akula than do that.  He vowed to protect you after all.  

Even from himself.

But that one just seemed impossible.  He feels Eywa whispering to him that you are his muntxate.  

He sees you as someone he would spend the rest of his life with.

Arriving at your marui, you sighed at your father’s questioning gaze after just seeing you drag your older brother back, as if he was asking just what trouble he got up to.  

“What is it this time, Lo’ak?”  He crossed his arms, tapping his left foot in impatience.  You squinted at your father, knowing how he’d react if he knew he was in a disagreement with Ao’nung.  

“Dad, I found him hissing at Ao’nung again–!” “You telltale–  I knew that bastard had a bad influence on you!” Lo’ak hissed, his tail swaying back and forth with betrayal written on his eyes.  You scoffed, side-eyeing him for a second before facing your father with pleading eyes.  

“Bravo Zulu–” “Dad!” you yelled in disbelief, your jaw dropping when your father shook Lo’ak’s hand with pride evident on his face, menacing grins both on their faces.  You could feel a migraine turning into aneurysm when your eldest brother entered the marui, “Dad, you wouldn’t believe Ao’nung– Oh, you’re here baby sis!”  He chuckled nervously once he noticed your small figure in front of his father.  You responded with a glare, crossing your arms at the three men towering over you who take pleasure in making Ao’nung suffer.  

Clearing his throat, Neteyam puts a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you out of the pod, telling you that he has something to share with your father and Lo’ak.  Refusing to be excluded in a conversation you knew was going to be about how they were going to torment the metkayina you love, you stood your ground and bore your fangs, something that you did very seldom towards your family.  

“No.” 

Neteyam squinted at you in return, turning to your father for help, instantly getting his support in a matter of a few seconds.  “Yeah babygirl, we really need to talk about that trouble tailing your shadow every minute of the day, ‘kay?”  Your father said, giving you a smile of reassurance and pressed a kiss on your forehead that did not faze you, even for a bit.  Fate seems to be on your father’s side as you heard your mother calling for you in the background.  You groaned in annoyance, rubbing a palm on your face causing Lo’ak to snicker at you, “Oh yeah sis, best get moving before mom gives you a whooping huh?”  

You’d definitely get back at him when the time comes for him and Tsireya.

Bearing no choice in the matter, you were forced to evacuate your home and walked towards the direction of your mother. 

Your brothers and your father on the other hand, were having the time of their lives imparting their knowledge about your suitor and what they would be doing whenever they would see the boy approach you.  They have devised ‘the most sneaky’ plans to make Ao’nung back out in his courting, but were not able to deduce that the said young man was actually on his way to their pod as they were conversing with each other, bringing them to this very moment.

“I would like to court your daughter, sir.  She is as beautiful as the ocean, and her whole being might as well be my sustenance as I cannot imagine life without her.”

The na’vi are known to be spiritually connected to Eywa, singing and dancing is embedded in their hearts.  So no one could really blame Ao’nung when he broke into a song.

“I want to court your daughter,” he started, undulating notes while clenching his fist.

His eyes meet Lo’ak’s and then Neteyam’s, going back to Jake’s, “I know you don’t think I ought to.”  He smiled, reminiscing his earliest memories with you, a smile tugging at his lips, “I’m not bad, I’m a great guy you’ll see,”

“I think that you should be–”

They were all sitting on the marui, silence overtaking when Jake suddenly slammed a hand on the floor, hiding his face from view, until Lo’ak burst into fits of laughter, wheezing at Ao’nung his father and Neteyam following suit.  Ao’nung chose to ignore Lo’ak’s outburst, pursing his lips in deep contemplation.  He would definitely get him back for this when he asks his parents to court Tsireya.  Ao’nung licked his lips out of nervousness, seeking validation from your father’s eyes.

“I’ll be honest Ao’nung.  I don’t care if you're the goddamn chief’s son,” Jake straightened his posture, emphasizing that he was much mightier than Ao’nung was at the moment, he was Toruk Makto for god’s sake.  “You’re not good enough for my daughter, and I don’t want you around her, end of story.”  

Ao’nung winced at Jake’s statement, his insecurities taking over his mind.  He was the mightiest hunter in the clan that’s for sure, but who’s to say that you were looking for a hunter?  A na’vi as charming and lovely as you is sought by most men.  He would know because you were much like his sister, whom he finds himself being protective of, most of the time. 

“With all due respect JakeSully, I understand why you are being protective of her.  I have a sister myself, and might I remind you, your son desires to court her too–  So why don’t you give me one last–”

“Get outta here.”

He sang his heart out, yet he still got denied?

Does Eywa hate him?  Ao’nung immediately mutters an apology after thinking that way, his mind going in circles as he thought about his options.  Then he remembered, go big or go home.  Of course the answer to his problems has always been inside of him.

And so, Ao’nung prepared all sorts of things that he could give to show you and your family that he’s a good provider.  He foraged in the morning, hunted in the afternoon, twisted the most intricate design he could do on a necklace.  This very process went on and on for days.  He figured that he would rather put his feelings into action than waste his time bumping shoulders with your brothers to convince them to let him see you.  He knew that they would be as stubborn if he didn’t show them what he could do.  

His preparation did not go over five days, eager to please you in a matter of short time.  He wants to prove himself and he will.  After putting his gifts into baskets, he asked Tsireya to come with him in an attempt to distract Lo’ak and avoid disruptions from him.  His sister was aware of the Sully brothers’ antics and pitied her own brother, giving him a nod of agreement and took one of the baskets to carry towards the direction of your home.  He carried in his left arm the biggest catch he could find that day to offer to your family, along with numerous baskets balancing on his right arm.  

It didn’t take long until he reached the opening of your marui, catching the whole family on the floor, preparing dinner.  He carefully placed the baskets on the side of the marui and kneeled before the entrance, making you raise your eyebrow at the sudden gesture.  Your heart soared when you heard him speak, “Yawntu, I ask for permission to extend this gesture as the beginning of our courtship,” his voice growing smaller as he went on, “So, I offer you this necklace as a promise of love and declaration of commitment to you and only you..”  

He pulled out a smaller basket from the satchel he was carrying, presenting you with the most exquisite necklace you have ever seen, precious stones attached to both ends of the fang in the center.  You could feel your face heating up, getting nudged by your mother, with Kiri snorting at the corner as soon as she laid her eyes on your flushed face, and Tuk, she was giggling on your mother’s lap, casting a knowing grin at you.  

“I accept–” 

“No. no. no.”  Jake immediately interjected the proposal, standing up from his position, towering over Ao’nung in a matter of seconds, effectively making Ao’nung feel intimidated, his tail swishing in newfound threat, whilst your father’s was flicking from left to right, the end of his tail dragging on the floor to display his protectiveness over you.  Proving to be your father’s sons, Neteyam and Lo’ak copied him, standing behind their father, hissing at your suitor.

You have prayed to Eywa that she would somehow bless you with everlasting patience, but perhaps she simply does not want to show mercy to your father and older brothers.  

As if Kiri, Tuk and Neytiri were anticipating what was going to happen, they all huddled up together in one corner, deciding to watch things unfold.

“Yes, I accept.”  You said with gritted teeth, walking towards the entrance, your tail in full display as it seemingly found vigor from all the pent up anger that you have been feeling ever since your brothers found out about Ao’nung’s plans to court you.  Your mother’s smile widened in pride as she saw you display protectiveness over the mate you wanted to choose.  You glared at your father, walking in front of Ao’nung to shield him from their gaze.  

“This is my life, and I will find a mate for myself,” you said, “I have been nothing but compliant my whole life, and I will not break that streak by not following my heart!”  

The three tall men feet taller than you gulped, their ears flattened at your dilated pupils and snarl, currently afraid for themselves.  You momentarily turned at Ao’nung, smiling at him sweetly and showed him your neck, gesturing for him to put on the necklace that he had assembled for you, earning angry hisses from your father, making you huff, unfazed by his threats. 

“I will rip your throat into shreds if you so much hurt a single hair on–”  “Ma’Jake.”

“Oh no, dad we are not done yet,” you crossed your arms, making Jake look away in defeat.  Neteyam chuckled at his father’s surrender, making you raise an eyebrow at your brothers, “The two of you have a lot to explain as well.”  “We do?” Neteyam frowned, making him elbow Lo’ak.  “Damn sis, I have a good reason for–”  “No you don’t!  You are in the middle of asking Tsireya to be her mate too!”  

As if on cue, they all sat before you simultaneously, their tails tucked between their legs.  They could only wince at your words, a flurry of apologies thrown at Ao’nung, making you raise your nose up at your brothers and father, threatening them that if they so much treat your suitor badly again, you would find a way to live in a separate marui with Ao’nung.  

And they knew to take your words seriously.  

—

Muntxate - wife

Bravo zulu - military slang for well done

Teylu - beetle larva; delicacy in Omatikaya

[notes-of-nari]

Stray Kids as the friendly ghost

Bangchan / Lee Know /Changbin/Hyunjin/Han / Felix/ Seungmin/I.N

FELIX •You don't even notice that you have a ghost in your apartment well.. until almost 5 months later when you try to bake a batch of brownies and they end up..well uhhh questionable.

• Graciously introduces himself and even adds a bow at the end, before he hastily begins preparing a brownie batter while you stand there speechless and wordless. He then proceeds to pop them in the oven,set a timer on your phone and disappears.

• You nearly get a heart attack when one day he calls your name, with his deep voice • Unintentionally scares you at times

• Sits next to you during tea time and speaks about various stuff. He loves to hear about your day and friends.

• Bakes so many stuff that you wonder if it would be better if you completely ditched college and started a bakery with felix instead.

• One day you return home to find him sitting sheepishly in your kitchen with his other ghost friend Seungmin, and a burnt waffle maker in between them. You are genuinely surprised that they didn't end up triggering the fire sensor.

•He always has a positive outlook on life that you sometimes found to be annoying. But he definitely did change your view on the world and life. •Returns back to the life of being an invisible ghost when your sibling comes to stay at your apartment. However he is delighted when he finds out that your sibling plays video games and they soon become best buddies.

• Has a great fear of the lift in your building and literally begs you to take the stairs instead of the lift.

[kloofspeaks]

Okay, I didn’t expect to come to this realization but it really just came to me, for some context: I’m a deer hunter, I haven’t hunted in awhile due to lack of heart in the sport, but here’s my opinion about Arthur’s high honor death scene.

In bow hunting, you’re aiming for the heart or near the chest of the deer, unlike a gun, deer have a sudden burst of adrenaline with bow hunting meaning; when they get shot they will run for instance, I’ve had a deer run and jump up two feet before collapsing and he ran about 30-40 yards and jumped across a ditch.

The running and adrenaline part of the deer’s death is John and Arthur’s escape. The reality of death setting in is when Arthur finally gives up and tells John that he’s pushed all he can, the adrenaline wearing off is the fight he has against Micah and the collapse and betrayal of Dutch. The final breath is the breathing of the deer leaving the earth with its final breath. It’s a slow and painful death which a gun will never provide unless you’re missing the shot completely, Arthur’s death even symbolizes the life of a deer to be hunted.

I haven’t hunted much anymore due to the fact I cannot handle watching an animal die. The experience was great, but that realization made me burst out in tears last night so I just had to mention something.

[vixialuvs]

DONT YOU WORRY ABOUT YOUR CURLY HAIR !

୨୧. pairing - riki nishimura x reader .

୨୧. cw - hurt/comfort, wrote with a curly haired hispanic reader in mind, lwk self indulgent lol :,), friends to lovers

୨୧. summary - you get insecure about your curly hair after you overhear some girls talking about it in the halls, and ni-ki is there to comfort you.

୨୧. NOW PLAYING - “a letter to my thirteen year old self” by LAUFEY .

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you were a foreign exchange student, who has been living in korea since you were 7. you were never accepted into the standards because of your skin color, your hair, and the food you eat.

yet there was one boy, who you came to know as your best friend, nishimura riki. he came from japan, but still managed to fit in with the others. you sort of resented him, how easy people accepted him but gave you funny looks, always picking you last in games and never sitting with you during lunch.

he didn’t seem to care about any of that. he stuck by your side no matter how hard you tried to push him away, and you eventually gave in. years flew by, and you were still deemed as the odd one out, the only girl in the entire school with beautiful luscious curls, yet you were ashamed of them.

ni-ki, who was given that nickname by his friends in primary school, who was basically glued to your side, however, adored them. he would constantly ask for permission to play with your curls, and you couldn’t help but say yes, even though you knew it would make them somewhat frizzy. deep down in your heart, there was a sudden realization you were in love with the boy.

you pushed your feelings down deep, knowing he should get with one of the perfect korean girls in your school, ones with shiny straight hair and supple, pale skin that glows in the sun. you even decided that one of his fangirls would be a better match for him then you. in a final last ditch attempt to lose your feelings for him, you began to avoid him.

this hurt him so badly, seeing you dodge him in classes and hallways, hiding away during lunch in the library or the courtyard, eating alone. he kept trying to find you, hanging around the spaces you two used to sit together, under cherry blossom trees, on the bleachers, in the library, and finally, underneath the staircase.

he was going on his daily search for you when he heard sniffling come from your designated spot, and knowing your voice, he immediately knew it was you. he rushed down in his dark clothing, complete opposite from what your wearing, decked out in baby pink and white, bow in your hair and everything, seeing you sitting on the steps crying quietly. he sits beside you and cups your cheek, getting you to look at him.

“y/n? what happened?” his voice brings you out of your panic, causing you to look at the tall boy kneeled infront of you. you shake your head and look away from him, but he persists, now holding your face with both of his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks so lovingly, as if he loves you. “cmon, look at me y/n, please. just tell me.”

he murmurs pleadingly, thumbing away your tears. you cave in, unable to resist his gaze.

“just.. everyone in this school treats me like i’m some specimen.. or like an alien from another planet. just because of my hair and my skin color. i hate it so much ni-ki. and.. um..”

you pause, not sure if what your about to say will go over well. it could seriously jeopardize your entire friendship.

“and what?”

he murmurs, looking at you expectantly, nodding along to what your saying, waiting for you to speak.

“i like you ni-ki. i like you more then a friend and more then a classmate. i like you. i don’t know why i like you. i just do, okay? i’m so sorry. i’m so so sorry—“

your apologies are abruptly cut off with his pouty lips pressed onto yours. he brings you closer by placing a hand on the back of your neck to deepen the sweet, comforting kiss. your hands come up to rest on the sides of his neck and jaw. you pull away with wild eyes, but before you can speak again he cuts you off once more.

“don’t you worry about your curly hair, y/n. it’s so beautiful. people just aren’t used to your beauty, since nobody in korea has your beautiful hair. but you are so unique and ethereal, you stand out from everyone else for a good reason, and that’s why i love you. you aren’t considered normal, and neither am i.”

he rants on about how much he loves you and your hair, until you cut him off.

“you.. love me?”

you sound so awestruck. someone loves you? and it’s the boy you’ve been pining after for years?

“yes, y/n l/n, i love you so much it hurts. please, can i be your boyfriend?”

he pulls you up to your feet, yet hes practically towering over you, standing at 6’1, and interlocks your hands. he cups your cheek with another, bending down to kiss your forehead.

“yes, nishimura riki. you can be my boyfriend.”

you hum before pulling him into another sweet kiss, getting lost in his embrace.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@vixialuvs . thank you for reading, do not copy, steal or plagiarize my work ! requests are always open !

[raapija]

‎‧₊˚✧ Whenever you want me *:･ﾟ

fashion designer!lance x footballer!nando

~500 words, no warnings <3

A small glimpse into a tender moment between Fernando and Lance.

Fernando could hear Lance's bare feet padding along the tile flooring of the hallway to his bedroom. The mild scent of his shampoo leafed in through the open door. The Canadian's head peeked into the room. 

"Hey..." he said shyly from the doorway, making Fernando snicker. Lance stepped in, and to Fernando's delight, he had found one of his hoodies to put on. His hair was still wet, dripping onto it and staining parts of the fabric a shade of blue darker. He had on a pair of boxers, too, nothing more. Seeing him like this was strange to his ordinary get-up; a suit and vest, classy and stylish. Sure, Lance looked great in a suit, but Fernando preferred him like this. 

"You look cute." Fernando said when Lance sat on the edge of his bed. He smelled good, his fruity shampoo and soap suited Lance much more nicely. The hoodie was too big on him, Fernando liked them baggy, but Lance almost disappeared into it. He had tied the hoodie's drawstring into a bow, which Fernando found charming. Lance always had to add something special. 

"Can I keep this?" the Canadian asked. He picked at the hem of the hoodie where there was a small tag with a Real Madrid logo on it. Fernando swiped a strand of Lance's damp hair off his forehead and to the side. Lance’s chestnut brown eyes looked at him. 

"Sí, got more than enough." he said and watched Lance's cheeks turn pink. He really was adorable. Lance leaned forward to kiss him, sweet and soft. Completely opposite of the way he had crushed their lips together half an hour ago on the same bed. Not rough and needy, but nice. Tender. 

"I wish I could stay." Lance lamented as he scooted closer, settling into Fernando's arms and laying his head onto his bare chest. Fernando held him close, Lance matching his breathing. 

"You could. Never leave again." Fernando said and rubbed small circles on his back. Lance was warm. Soft to the touch. "Stay with me forever." 

"I wish I could." Lance repeated, his voice small and frail. Right at this moment Fernando could ditch his whole life for him. Quit playing football; get his pension and leave town. Go wherever Lance needed him. Be it Montréal, Paris or Berlin. He couldn't care less about anything other than Lance. He'd lounge in his studio all day, watch him work on his sketches and patterns. Bring him coffee when he needs it and take him out to lunch. 

"Will you come see me soon?" the Canadian asked and Fernando nuzzled his hair. Lance's hold around his waist tightened. Fernando felt like he would shatter into his arms if he let go. Lance rarely let this softer side of him show. Normally he was cool and collected, always ready for whatever came his way. But with Fernando, he could let go of the walls he had built around himself. Make Fernando the one to take care of him. 

"Whenever you want me." 

[luminalunii97]

I've seen non Iranians admiring the Islamic Republic national football team for not singing the national anthem. And then they were confused as to why iranians were happy that the team lost. Yes not singing the anthem might have consequences for them, but it won't change the fact that these people went to visit Raisi, the Islamic Republic president and bowed to him, posed happily for pictures while we were dealing with Kiam Pirfalak news, and said they don't care about politics and what's going on Iran in an interview, stating that they will focus on the game only. Not singing the anthem is nothing in comparison. And you might think they were under pressure. So were other athletes in Iran, let's see what they did:

Picture on the right is Elnaz Rekabi, an Iranian rock climber who was the first athlete to take off her hijab during Mahsa Amini protests to show her solidarity with people. She's currently under house arrest. she wasn't the first Iranian woman ever doing that. On the left, that's Shohreh Bayat, her story is so sad.

In many interviews I've seen of her, she always cries when she says her story. She was to referee the final of the Women's World Chess Championship a couple of years ago. While in another country she decided to wear her hijab loosely in an act of rebellion. She got warning from Islamic Republic twice and everytime she made it worse. She was asked to apologize but she refused, saying that she wouldn't apologize for what she believes in. At last, even though she wasn't ready to leave everything behind and start from scratch in a foreign country, she decided to ditch the compulsory hijab completely and never come back to Iran, because her life would be in danger if she did. Because of her choice she can't come back to visit her family anymore. her family supported her which made the authorities to force her father to resign (her father was the president of chess association in Gilan, Iran).

Then we had Iranian national beach soccer team. I think they were the first group who refused to sing Islamic republic national anthem. And after they got threatened to sing the anthem, they did something even more iconic. One of the players cut his imaginary hair after he scored.

Then we had these two scenes after scoring. They were recreating an inhuman thing Islamic republic did. The guy on the right is Khodanoor Lajei. He was murdered on bloody Friday in Zahedan. He was a Baloch guy. I'm going to post about Balochs and the thing that's been done to them by Islamic republic in details. For now know that this guy got killed in protests but this picture of him is for a couple of months back. He insulted a Basiji guy or something, Islamic republic police chained him to a pole in the middle of the city to make him an example for others, after beating him. When he asked for water they brought him a cup but they put it out of his reach in front of him and laughed at his thirst. (You see why we hate Islamic Republic, IRGC and Basij?!) The picture got out only after his death because Baloch people didn't think the rest of Iran would care about them enough to react. That broke my heart unspeakably much.

With so much bravery, our national girl's basketball team has been posting photos without mandatory hijab ever since the protests have begun.

Last but not least, Parmida Ghasemi, iranian archer ditching mandatory hijab inside of iran. She took it out for receiving the prize and while she was being photographed.

(Btw, non of these women "forgot" their hijab accidentally. If you're iranian you learn to never forget your hijab since you're 7, the age you start school. Without a formal head wearing you won't be allowed to attend school classes. When you grow up with it, you'll get used to it. You have no idea how weird it feels to not wear a veil in public, I'm still getting used to it.)

we've witnessed many iconic brave moves by our athletes but non of them said we don't give a shit about what's happening in Iran before the game. I'm not saying they won't be redeemed one day, I'm just saying they should work to win their respect back.

[robinbuckleysgfreall]

would u be so kind to slut out enid

At your service *dramatic bow*

Good little girl

Enid Sinclair x fem!reader

Summary: reader has a “bad girl” reputation however Enid is infatuated with them none the less. Reader questions why such a good girl would want to be with them and finally gives in and shows enid a good time.

“good little girl always licking a fight with me you know that I’m bad but your spending the night with me..”

Warnings: smut, innocent kink??, lesbian sex,

Enid has been watching you for weeks. You knew it but you never said anything. You couldn’t quite pinpoint why it was at first. Was she investigating you for her blog? Was she spying on you for her roommate Wednesday? Either way you couldn’t tell if you were more flattered of creeped out. Sure Enid was cute, absolutely adorable infact, the things you would do to her if you could but she was far too innocent for you.

From the way she skipped down the halls,the way her blonde and dyed hair swayed above her shoulders to the way her cheeks lit up brightly every time you caught her staring at you almost… longingly? In your eyes Enid would never be interested in someone like you, a “trouble maker” not as “ tortured artist” as Xavier but close enough. Enid was a pretty in pink kind of girl you were more of grey. Not quite as dark as Wednesday but not light either. Little did you know that that was exactaly what pulled Enid to you more and more.

Soon enough Enid found herself changing her walking route to class just to accidently bump into you or sitting opposite you in the canteen at lunch just so she could catch a glimpse of your charismatic smirk as you laughed with your friends. Every night (whilst Wednesday was firmly asleep with her noise cancelling headphones to block out any sound of life) Enid would pull out her special stuffed animal from beneath her bed, the one reserved especially for her pleasure, and hump it frantically to the thought of you and your ring adorned hands and smirking lips. She couldn’t help it, she needed you and as much as she tried to keep up the innocent act, her thoughts of you were not so.

Enid’s chance to get closer to you arose a few weeks later when you were assigned as partners for a class. You subconsciously watched the way her hips swayed as you skipped over to sit next to you, accidently brushing your thighs together beneath the table making her cheeks turn that cute shade of pink you adored. You subconsciously wondered what other parts of her would flush that shade of pink, perhaps her nipples as you abused them tirelessly with your tongue, or her cl-

You were suddenly pulled from your horny thoughts as you felt her place a hand on your shoulder “so my dorm tonight then y/n?” She said with a smile, you looked at her confused and she gestured towards the assignment infront of you and you quickly nodded in response before turning your attention back to the lesson so she couldn’t see how flustered you had become.

Later that evening you got changed, into something simple a loose shirt and some shorts, before making your way to Enid’s room. Your palms were sweaty as you knocked on the door hearing a squeal from inside and a rush of movement before the door opened to reveal a flushed looking Enid wearing a spiral pink crop top and shorts. You said hi as she let you in and sneakily gave her the once over, noticing the way her nipples were peaking through her top. No bra? You thought. What had Enid been up to before you arrived. You perched yourself on the edge of Enid’s bed as you pulled out the assignment and you got to work. After about an hour you both found yourself sitting much closer, legs touching, as you chatted about life and friends completely ditching the assignment before you.

“What’s with all the stuffed animals?” You asked teasingly thing a laugh. Enid placed her hands over her face embarrassed but you reached for her hand and reassured her that you thought they were cute. She eased at that. “Like that bunny over there, looks like the one from Alice in wonderland” “i love that movie!” Enid gushed “woah whose this big guy?” You said reaching for a teddy that was logged behind her pillow. Enid reached her arm out to stop you touching it but it was too late you had already grabbed it.

“What’s the big deal this guys so ador-“ you stopped your teasing statement as you hand landed on a particular wet, sticky patch of the toy. Enid looked at you dear in her eyes as you clocked what it was. “I’m SO sorry, i was going to put him away but i didn’t have time” she stopped mid sentence and watched in awe as you took the fingers of your sticky hand and licked them clean, eyes rolling back in your head. Enid gulped back a moan at the erotic sight her thighs clenching together.

“You taste so sweet Enid.” You teased. “Tell me” you crawled towards her “what’s a sweet little thing like you got in her mind whist rutting desperately into this hm?” Enid began to stutter out a response but you interrupted her with a finger over her plush lips.

“Where you thinking about me? Enid be honest darling” she nodded frantically nuzzling her face towards your hand like a puppy. You placed a hand on her clenched thighs pressing them open. “Is this ok?” You asked. “Yes please touch Me” she begged and you wasted no time tearing off her shorts revealing her still puffy, pink pussy her clit on display aching to be played with. “Aw no panties? You are naughtier than i thought” you commented making her blush and giggle.

You began rubbing her aching clit whilst diving in to kiss her on the lips, biting them to make her moan into your mouth. You lowered your head between her thighs and began sucking on her clit before entering two fingers into her aching hole. She moaned wildly, grabbing frantically onto your hair to ground herself as you ravished her pussy, drunk on the sweet taste of her. Just as Enid was about to tip over the edge you pulled away, face dripping with her slick.

She let out a wolf ish sound like mix between a whine and a growl and you smirked at her. “Don’t worry baby I’ll let you finish, but i want you to use this” you lifted up the teddy again. “Show me how you please yourself to the thought of me, go on be a good little slut” Her head clouded with thoughts of only pleasing you and reaching her own pleasure, Enid obliged, placing the toy between her thighs and grinding down onto it pulling a gasp from her lips at the friction on her worked up clit from you playing with her moments before.

You slipped out of your own panties and shorts as you watched her and began fingering yourself at the sight of her infront of you, watching you get off made her actions more frantic and rushed. The sight of her slurring herself out like this for your viewing pleasure made both your mouth and your pussy water deliciously. You watched as her rosy clit made contact with the plush toy and it made you think back to you thoughts earlier in class. You crawled towards her again, pulling up her shirt to reveal her pretty pink nipples, erect with pleasure and her tits bouncing from her movements. She moaned as you took one into your mouth sucking on it and toying with the other in your hands.

It didn’t take long after for you to both finish together and you lay in a sweat, cuddled together under her colourful duvet. Her head tucked into the crook of your neck, naked bodies entwined together. “What’s a good girl like you doing spending the night with someone like me?” You asked. “Maybe I like a bad girl, this kitty has claws too” she joked snuggling further into you as you placed a kiss atop her head.

—- finished

I hope you liked its kinda rushed but i enjoyed writing it :)

[yangkitties]

bros before hoes ✰ chapter 11: ding dong ditch

wc: 0.9k

You stood outside Hybe Cafe with Tsuki and Anton, making small talk. 

Anton was a timid little dude, albeit being one of the funniest and sweetest guys you knew. He stood awkwardly beside you, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. He chuckled lightly at your attempts at diffusing his nerves, smiling gratefully at you. You’d met him a few times prior to this, and was glad to know he had warmed up to you. 

You don’t even remember how you ended up owing your brother this favour, but you didn’t mind. Anton was a nice guy and if helping him make more friends was the favour, then you were more than ready to complete it. 

Anton and Tsuki were hitting it off, talking about their favourite drinks. Tsuki had this aura which put everyone around her at ease, and you were beyond grateful for her presence. Maybe her being there would help Anton and Jungwon become friends faster. 

Just as you were about to text Sunghoon asking where he was, you heard voices bickering at the end of the hallway. Sunghoon and Jungwon appeared at the turn, seemingly arguing about Sunghoon’s hair. 

Jungwon turned away from Sunghoon, throwing his hands up in frustration. Sunghoon rolled his eyes at him, quickly fixing his hair. 

You laughed to yourself before waving them over. 

‘Tsuki noona!!’ Jungwon ran over, enveloping Tsuki in a hug. She ruffled his hair affectionately, pulling away with a wide smile on her face. Jungwon bowed to you, turning to lightly smile at Anton.

‘That’s right! Jungwon, Anton. Anton, Jungwon!’ You introduced them to each other.

‘I’m here too…’ Sunghoon sulked from the back, awkwardly standing a few feet away. Jungwon rolled his eyes, grabbing him violently and pulling him towards the rest of the group. 

‘C’mon, let’s go inside.’ Tsuki urged the rest of you guys to follow her, going to a booth at the back. 

The first few minutes were awkward, the 5 of you staring at each other in silence. But thankfully Tsuki knew just how to break the ice, and soon enough the conversation bloomed, lively chatter passing between all of you. 

Anton and Jungwon seemed to get along just fine, bonding over their shared interests. You observed them silently, smiling at how genuine Jungwon seemed at getting to know Anton. Anton seemed less awkward, his shy facade slowly melting away. 

You then turned to the other side, looking at Tsuki. She seemed to be making small talk with Sunghoon, who was once again reduced to a blubbering mess. He did look more confident today, his face less of a tomato red and more of a baby pink. 

You joined in on their conversation, intently listening to some story Sunghoon was recounting. Sunghoon was animatedly explaining the events, talking about what he and Jake had been doing in Japan. 

That’s when Jungwon stood up, Anton mimicking his actions, ‘I want to show Anton something up in the practice rooms, I’ll be quick with it!’ He smiled before walking away, Anton waving at you as he followed Jungwon. 

At least I don’t have to drag them away now… Damn it now I have to find an excuse to leave too. You thought to yourself, frowning as you waved back. 

‘Oh! Look at the time, I actually have to go! I promised Haewon I’d help her with cleaning around the dorm.’ Tsuki’s voice cut through your thoughts as she stood up, startling you. 

You shot up instantly, hand on her wrist ‘Oh, really? Well, Tsuki, you stay here I’ll help Haewonnie! You have that dust allergy anyway.’ You mustered up your most enthusiastic smile, lightly nudging Tsuki back to her seat. 

‘No, it’s absolutely okay, let me do it. Plus, Haewon specifically mentioned that she wanted me to help. And you hate cleaning anyway, so let me do it.’ You could see her forced smile as she practically pushed you to sit back down. 

This was a new side of her that you had never seen, and you weren’t too excited to fight her like this. You nod hurriedly, settling into your seat in mild terror. 

As soon as she knew you weren’t going to argue anymore, she morphed back into her usual self, waving cheerfully as she left. 

‘That was… odd.’ You mused loud, fiddling with the ice in your drink. You signed, frown returning to your face. ‘Guess this is it then. See you day after tomorrow for MC practice?’ You turned to Sunghoon, disappointment visible in your face. 

Sunghoon noticed your light pout, suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to do everything to make you feel better overcoming him. 

‘Uhh… I mean just because they’re gone doesn’t mean we can hang out, right? I don’t have anything to do, unless you do?’ He asked tentatively, eyes searching for a sign in yours. 

‘Oh-! That’s fine, yeah, we can hang out!’ You smiled, shoulders relaxing. 

Sunghoon cheered mentally, celebrating his successful attempt at cheering you up. ‘That’s great! Let me go get some more croissants for us and then I’ll tell you this story about me and Heeseungie hyung.’ 

You giggled at his enthusiasm, butterflies filling your stomach at his eager smile. 

The rest of the evening is filled with the both of you exchanging stories of your trainee days and childhoods, laughing and reminiscing about the past. 

You thank whatever deity exists above for this opportunity, basking in Sunghoon’s presence, simply enjoying his company. 

Unfortunately all good things come to an end. You wave bye to Sunghoon, floating on cloud 9 as you leave. You’re beyond happy, and truly nothing could change that. 

prev | m.list | next

synopsis > with the help of fukutomi tsuki, park y/n finally gains the courage to face their long time crush, the one and only, park sunghoon. park sunghoon thinks it's love at first sight when he sees her. paired up as the new mcs of music bank, shenanigans ensue when y/n learns about sunghoon's crush...

note: YN LORE JUST DROPPED !!!! if anyone can guess who their brother is i will give you a Kiss 😁

©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Stay high

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Habits (Stay High) - Tove Lo

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

pt 1. - pt 2

Synopsis: You lose yourself in your grief. You do various things that you never did, or occasionally did. As much as you know it’s wrong, you can’t get yourself to stop. You need to keep him off your mind somehow.

Word count: 2.263

Masterlist

TW!! Mention of character death, eating disorder, alcoholism.

Please don’t read this, read my other work instead if this triggers you. This time it’s pretty heavy on the latter two topics. Stay safe lovelies.

Simon has been officially declared MIA on a mission gone bad. Or so, that’s what you’ve been told. It’s been months and you’ve been spiraling ever since the news broke out. You’re clinging onto the smallest of hopes that he’s still out there. Alone, injured, but alive. It’s scary how you can go from being completely independent to being dependent on someone, only for it to be ripped away from you in seconds, being left alone to figure out how to be fully independent again. You’ve gone from being able to sleep in your bed alone like a baby, to being not able to sleep at all. Tossing and turning, wondering if Simon is still out there kicking, or if he already has kicked the bucket. His body lying in a ditch somewhere or in some organization’s basement. You don’t know, no one knows what happened to him. All that is known is that he was on a solo mission, observing a high-value target. Only for it to be an ambush and get surrounded by tangos. From there on out it was radio silence.

You lay on the couch. Eyes swollen and red from continuous crying. The TV is playing some show that you can’t be bothered to care about on repeat. It’s been months, and you’re still as miserable as the day they came to your door and sent you their condolences. They promised to let you know if there are any updates about him, even if they end up finding his body. They promised they’d tell you. You don’t know if the lack of updates is a good thing or the exact opposite.

I get home, I got the munchies

Binge on all my Twinkies

Throw up in the 'tub, then I go to sleep

You haven’t eaten all day. You either don’t eat for days on end, or eat an unhealthy amount of junk food to keep you going. You know it’s not healthy. You know it’s not what Simon would want you to do. But you can’t help it. You need something, someone to numb the pain. A knock sounds at the door. You rush off the couch to open the door. You hope that it’s Simon at the door. You stumble toward the door and fling it open. Your heart sinks to your stomach when you spot two military officers at the door. They look at you grimly and hold out Simon’s dog tags, bloodied balaclava, and a small wooden box with his personal effects. Your entire world crumbles at that moment. The sight of his dog tags and bloodied balaclava sends bile to your throat. You reach out with shaky hands for the items. You put the wooden box down. You clutch the piece of cloth and metal tightly in your hands. One of the officers speaks up. “Mrs. Riley, we regret to inform you that Simon Riley has been declared KIA,” they take off their hats and bow their heads, “our condolences.” A sob escapes your throat. You nod meekly, wish them a good night, and shut the door. Once the door is closed, it’s only you in the lonesome cold house. You slide down the door and sit on the floor. Cries leave your body. He’s gone, he’s really gone, and he’s not coming back.

You get up shakily and walk to the kitchen. You raid the kitchen cabinets for whatever junk food you can reach for. You grab several candy bars, cookies, cakes. Whatever you still have left, whatever you haven’t touched. You glance at the fridge. All of the food stored is starting to expire. You know you should eat healthier if you’re going to eat at all. But it isn’t appetizing to you anymore. More tears fall from your eyes. You trudge over to the couch. You slump over and start eating. You binge on whatever you grabbed until it’s all or mostly gone. Not even a minute later you feel yourself growing nauseous. You send yourself to the bathroom to throw up. You don’t make it to the toilet bowl. Instead, you empty all of your stomach’s contents into the bathtub. After you finish throwing everything back up. You slump over the side of the bathtub. You rest your head on your arms. Sobs racked through your body. Binging on junk food made you temporarily forget about Simon. Giving you short bliss. Now you’re back into that rabbit hole and you can’t climb out. Eventually, you fall asleep on the cold, hard bathroom floor. Having been tired out by sobbing your sorrows out.

The following morning you wake up with a sore and scratchy throat. Your head is pounding. And the thoughts of Simon are flooding your mind. All of the past memories you’ve made together are looping in your mind like a movie. All of his sweet nothings are playing in your head like a broken record. It’s as if he’s haunting you in your own house. A house you used to share with him. You begrudgingly get up from the bathroom tiles. You walk towards the living room, wanting to go back to sulking on the couch and feeling miserable for yourself. For how far you’ve fallen. Then you eye the liquor cabinet. You aren’t much of a drinker, you never were. But you’d sometimes join Simon in the activity, as he’s fond of dabbling into the occasional night spent with whisky in one hand, the other entangled with yours. You swing open the liquor cabinet. Grabbing the first thing you see. Whisky. Great. Another thing to remind you of him. You walk towards the dining table. A table you’ve always kept neat, a table that is now littered with all sorts of things. You haven’t cleaned the house in ages, not having the energy to do so.

And I drank up all my money

Dazed and kinda lonely

You're gone, and I gotta stay high all the time

To keep you off my mind

You sit down and crack open the bottle of whisky. You don’t bother pouring it into a glass. You take a huge gulp and swallow. Your throat burns as the liquid traverses from your throat to your stomach. You grimace. You never got used to the burning sensation, perhaps you will later. You keep drinking until you feel yourself getting sick.

The same pattern repeats in the following days. You’d binge eat junk food, throw it up, and pass out. The next morning you’d drink yourself stupid and sick. After you run out of alcohol, you’d buy more. You run out of junk food, you order a huge amount of takeout. You burn through your money without a care in the world.

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you, babe, I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life to forget I'm missing you

All of this has one goal, to keep Simon off your mind for as long as possible. Even if it’s only temporary. You’d rather forget about him temporarily than torment yourself with all sorts of trinkets around the house that remind you of him. The picture frames on the wall. His closet. His favorite drink, alcoholic and non alcoholic. Even his toothbrush will torment you till the day you die. Every time you try to pick your life back up. When you try to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart that he has left behind. You’d regress and fall further down that hole. You’ve gone from being an occasional drinker to someone who can’t function without getting drunk at least every other day. To someone who eats healthy and promotes it, to someone who doesn’t bother anymore and eats a very unhealthy amount of junk food. From someone who seldom goes to bars, to someone who frequents them often.

Pick up daddies at the playground

How I spend my daytime

Loosen up the frown, make them feel alive

I make it fast and greasy

I'm numb, and way too easy

You find yourself in another bar. You’ve been hopping in between bars for the last couple of months. People are always telling you that with time grief will get easier. Oh how wrong they are. You feel the same amount of grief, if not more. The bartender recognizes you the instant you make yourself known. He already hands you your preferred drink. You’re a paying customer after all, even if you look like you went through hell and back. As you down shot after shot. You see a man walk up to you and take a seat next to you. You ignore him. Wanting to drown yourself in your sorrows in solitude. But the man is persistent and orders you another shot when you finish yours. You glance at him. “You didn’t need to do that.” You say indifferently. The man shrugs before grinning. “You look like you’ve had a rough couple of days. You could use a treat.” You scowl at the shot on the counter. You down it quickly. The man orders another for you. “Make that a couple of months.” You retort bitterly. He looks at you surprised before he gives you an understanding nod. The bartender gives you another shot. You down that one just as quickly as you did the other couple of shots. “If you need a distraction I’d be willing to give you one.” You arch an eyebrow. He’s offering you to hook up with him. You dwell on his offer. You can’t believe you’re even considering it. It must be the alcohol talking. Before you even realise it you blurt out your answer. “Sure.”

One thing leads to another. A sloppy, messy kiss develops into a makeout session. From the living room to the bedroom. Clothes being torn off. When he climbs up onto you, a thought rushes through your slightly sobered-up mind. You promised you’d stay loyal to him. Even if he’s dead. Everything starts rushing to you and you can’t take it. You push him off you, gather your clothes, give him a rushed apology while throwing your clothes on, and storming out of his apartment. You call yourself an Uber to get you back home. You swear to yourself, that this is going to be a night you’re going to forget. Erase from your mind.

You sit in the car, pondering on the actions that you’ve just done. You were ready to give yourself to another man, a stranger no less. You don’t even know his name and he doesn’t know yours. Tears fall from your eyes. That thought scares you. Yes, you want to keep Simon off your mind, but not like this. Anything but this.

Staying in my play pretend

Where the fun ain't got no end, oh

Can't go home alone again

Need someone to numb the pain, oh

The next few days you spend your time revisiting old places that you often visited with him. Places he would take you out on dates, places that you begged him to take you to. You’d stay out from morning until late in the night. You’d bring enough that’ll be enough for two people. You and Simon. You’d pretend he’s still here with you, telling you about his day. How his teammates, friends are doing. People who pass you by think you’re insane, and honestly, they might be right. But do you care? No. This is your way to grieve. You keep his death off your mind by pretending he’s still here with you. Your own little play pretend. Because you know when you get home, the harsh reality will sink in and destroy you again. You want to savor these moments as long as you possibly can. Oh, how it hurts. That the one you need to numb the pain is Simon himself, and no one else.

You're gone, and I gotta stay high all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

High all the time to keep you off my mind

When you get back home from your adventures. The loneliness, and coldness from the house you once called comforting, and warm, seep into your bones. You go back to your routine. Drown yourself with more junk food or alcohol. Cry yourself to sleep. Wake up. Cry again. Go out until late. Rinse and repeat.

A figure hiding himself in the shadows outside your shared home observes your behavior. His heart breaks when he sees how far you’ve fallen. He watches how his strong independent woman, resorts to bad habits to keep herself afloat, mourning the supposed death of her husband. He wishes he could barge in, and comfort you. But he can’t. At least, not yet. And that fact hurts him tremendously. He just wishes he’ll be able to finish his mission before you fall rock bottom in that rabbit hole you’ve dug up for yourself.

For now, the only comfort he can give himself is watching you in your home. He’ll have to stay in the shadows and watch from afar. Keeping you at arms’ length.

Sometimes you’d see a dark, hooded figure by the window. They wear a mask similar to Simon’s. But it can’t be him. He’s dead and isn’t coming back. So for now you’ll ignore the figure. As long as they don’t come in here and interrupt your peace, you don’t give a damn about them. But you can’t help but have that gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach. What if it really is him?

[forever-1895]

Domesticity in The Sign Of Four

Can we just take a moment to appreciate the domestic stuff in the chapter The Baker Street Irregulars?

So basically what happens, is after a midnight goose chase (ft. Holmes and Toby the mongrel) and the three of them return to 221B, Watson is tired and in an iffy mood. He goes upstairs to take a shower and a change of clothes, and when he comes down again, breakfast is already laid and Holmes is pouring out the coffee ^_^

After a chat about how nothing new's going on in the case, Watson asks Holmes:

"...Are you going to bed, Holmes?" "No. I am not tired. I have a curious constitution. I never remember feeling tired by work, though idleness exhausts me completely..."

And Holmes then explains to Watson the mystery of the criminal's accomplice, the savage until he notices Watson is tired, and plays a beautiful melody on his violin which he composed himself to lull his friend to sleep...

"...Look here Watson; you look regularly done. Lie down there on the sofa and see if I can put you to sleep." He took up his violin from the corner, and as I stretched myself out, he began to play some low, dreamy, melodious air - his own, no doubt, for he had a remarkable gift for improvisation. I have a vague remembrance of his gaunt limbs, his earnest face and the rise and fall of his bow. Then I seemed to be floated peacefully away on a soft sea of sound until I found myself in dreamland...

Ironically, this is also the story where Watson gets married - some people think that the above is a last ditch effort on the part of Holmes to keep his companion... 🥲😭