#encounter persuasive

[a2zillustration]

The most persuasive wizard you've ever met

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[bennetsbonnet]

Pride and Prejudice might lack some of the dramatic edge and bite that makes other Austen novels such as Persuasion or Mansfield Park so compelling, but that doesn't make it an inherently inferior or simplistic novel. Ultimately, your favourite novel is down to personal taste.

I personally love the fact each Austen novel has scores of people who will passionately defend it at a moment's notice.

So, I think it's dangerous to assume that anyone who names Pride and Prejudice as their favourite doesn't 'understand' Jane Austen and to look for contrarian reasons to hold the others above her most famous novel and to build them up while trying to knock Pride and Prejudice down. Rather, there is something to be said for attempting to build the other five up to the place they deserve, alongside the most acclaimed novel, rather than placing it there at P&P's expense. Sure, Northanger Abbey might require more historical context to be truly enjoyable, but there are many relatable sentiments (particularly about the moral panic of women reading novels) once you have enough knowledge to access it.

I enjoy all of her novels and would happily re-read any of them, and I can admit in some areas I perhaps find other novels more satisfying. For example, I think the greatest love story is that of Captain Wentworth & Anne Elliot and that Henry Tilney is an absolute dream; he's definitely the Austen hero I would most want to encounter irl.

Nonetheless, there is something about Pride and Prejudice that draws me in each time and makes it the novel I reach for, whatever mood I'm in.

Why is it my favourite and the one I always pick up to re-read? There are many factors but, idk... sometimes it isn't for a deeper reason other than a desire to to escape The Horrors and bury myself in a story full of multi-layered yet surprisingly funny characters, while I enjoy experiencing Mr Darcy and Elizabeth finding their way to each other once more.

[justablah56]

I am .2 seconds away from falling asleep but I just need to leave a dx tr thought with you all eem. thinking about how in his first encounter austin asks vr la for a persuasion roll against dx tr before he attacks dani after shes down. thinking about vr las response which is to say "your beef is only with me". he tries to get him to just hurt vr la, leave all these others alone. thinking about how vr la didn't ever think dx tr was worth the effort to convince him to be good. how hell bent he was on hating dx tr to avenge mr sn that he never even thought to try. I'm going to throw up and die.

[wildlocks]

i don't understand the urge to write hate think pieces about video game characters/their writing on here like at all

[danielnelsen]

ok so i absolutely think there should be consequences and reactivity for sleeping with other people if you’re romancing someone, but just from a game design perspective, i have come across a bit of an issue

so i slept with the emperor (no reaction), then two nights later i slept with halsin (positive reaction), then two nights later i slept with mizora (possible breakup). and i think that last reaction is completely reasonable, but this series of events, in that order and so close together, definitely sets a precedent

[captaincleverusernamehere]

I just improvised like half of a dnd session and STILL managed to get the plot going where I need it to, in a COMPLETELY different way than I thought I was going to get that information, got the party to COMMUNICATE with each other, and introduced a BOOKSTORE GHOST WITH A CAT WHO MADE A DEAL WITH A PLAYER THAT SHE WOULD COME BACK AND TELL HER THE REST OF HER STORY bc they’re in an apocalypse so there are no more books to read and aaaaa

Now I get to design a mini dungeon for the players to steal a car from the neighborhood dealership that has been turned into a home base for the gang of republican dads who are also trying to survive this zombie apocalypse

[verysaxyberry]

At this point I’m unconvinced Baldurs Gate 3 ever ends

[fraternum-momentum]

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓:

♡ Aimée likes to present herself as an 'it' girl at school. She is a known exhibitionist in town, and is rumored that she gets around.

♡ Kleptomaniac. Pickpockets people during work hours and even during encounters. It gives her a little extra cash but she does have multiple jobs. Prefers stealing things rather than actually paying for them. Has been caught before but usually with a little bit of 'persuasion', she's able to get away scot-free.

♡ A sweet talker. (turns out paying attention in English class does have its benefits) She oftentimes tries to get out of a situation by finessing people. Her mouth is probably her best asset, in more ways than one :)

♡ While Aimée doesn't outwardly harass others, she enjoys teasing and messing with them. Silver-tongued, playful and witty, she finds that she enjoys pushing peoples' buttons, and seeing how they react after a measly few words is always a fun time. And if they fall for her somehow, then that's a major plus, breaking hearts is her favorite past time ♡

♡ In private, she is actually meeker than how she shows herself to be. However, she finds comfort in this persona she's created. Everyone knows that you're easy prey if you act shy and show any vulnerability, so she's learned the hard way to always take the first bite.

♡ By being promiscuous herself, it gives her a sense of autonomy in a way. In her mind, if she objectifies herself first, then she's taking away that decision people have over her body.

♡ Her arousal is kept high at all times so she can avoid overthinking, its a way to cope from everything. Sex is a great distraction. It makes her feel good, and all she needs to do is just focus on the what was happening during the moment, and on giving the person she's with pleasure that she's very happy to provide.

♡ Can't find herself to commit to anyone due to her fear of opening herself up to others. Sex is easy. To her, it's simple. And it's something she knows she's good at. Meanwhile, feelings and emotions are messy. It complicates a lot of things. But she can't help but get attached to some people. Whenever she realizes that she's getting too close, she distances herself and quickly moves on to a new person, minimizing the chances of any feelings developing further.

♡ This is where her reputation as a heartbreaker comes from. It's not actually something she actively likes doing, but it's a way for her to get even for what they had done to her.

♡ But no matter how many times she tries to convince herself, deep down, she knows this isn't how she wants to be. She does want to make genuine connection with someone. And despite being surrounded by (mostly unwanted) attention, there's still this lingering sense of loneliness that, no matter what she does, she can't seem to get rid of.

[brittle-doughie]

Can you elaborate on these beast marks if you haven’t already? This is the first time I’ve heard of them

Beast Marks and You

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After each encounter with the Beast Cookies, they’ll leave a mark on or in your body. This will allow them to stay connected to you long after you’ve escaped them. This means being able to invade your dreams or even appear as hallucinations and voices in your head. The marks appear on different forms for each Beast.

An eye on your forehead from Shadow Milk Cookie.

Flour dust on your wrists from Mystic Flpur Cookie.

Slash marks on your body from Burning Spice Cookie.

A pair of closed angel wings that cover your heart from Eternal Sugar Cookie.

They’ll take these opportunities to wear you down until eventually, one of them will break you and surrender you to the Beasts to keep forever.

During the Flower City side-story, I’ve shown that being too far from Crispia weakened the Beasts’ hold on you as well as the effects of Golden Osmanthus Cookie’s incense being able to weaken them as well. This did not go unnoticed by the Beasts, who will try to do what they can to prolong your use of the incense.

It’s not a one way street, however. Having the marks also meant that you hold some power of the Beasts themselves. All you had to do was to allow the Beast to ingrain themselves into you for a moment. The only indicator of control is when your eyecings flash a Beast’s color for a second.

A shield of flour from Mystic Flour Cookie that guarded against attacks.

A boost in strength from Burning Spice Cookie.

Increased deception and persuasion from Shadow Milk Cookie.

Temporary flight with sugar wings from Eternal Sugar Cookie.

These might sound beneficial to you, but it comes at the cost of allowing the Beast Cookie to hold a greater control over your head. Only use these capabilities when you absolutely had to and sever their control as soon as you’re done, do not let them control you for any longer than you need them to.

The Grand Cookie Games trio (Choco Drizzle, Pudding A La Mode, and Green Tea Mousse) unfortunately experienced firsthand what happens when you allow Burning Spice Cookie to have you. What should’ve been just a way to get the upper hand turned into a one sided fight that ended with the three utterly defeated. Do not let it happen again.

There is currently no way to remove the marks and they’re invisible to all but you. Your entourage of Dumpling, Salsa, and Crowned Cupcake are currently working in place to figure out a way to remove the Beasts’ hold on you. Until then, you’re forced to run the gauntlet of facing odd against the Beasts as they take every part of you.

It may seem cruel, to take control of a Cookie and torment them. However, understand that this comes from a place of interest, even love, from the Beasts. You’re the only Cookie they’ve done this to, you’re special to them. They can only hope that you’ll come to understand in the end. Whether it be now or when you’re dragged into the Silver Tree with them…

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[ruthlesswaves]

i'm a true believer of poseidon being the one starting the different ways of persuasion on 600 strike manwhore au. i would rather see him bleed and beg for mercy rather than have ody offer it first and end the encounter with no bloodshed :)

[esmeefreckles]

Mirror | Alexia Putellas G!P x reader

+18 SMUT MINORS DNI

PRAISE KINK. CUM INSIDE. FINGERING.

A/N: A huge thank you to @sswed for being the best beta reader and helping me so much.

The air in the hotel room crackled, the tension palpable the moment you stepped inside. Alexia stood just beyond the threshold, a predatory glint in her brown eyes that you could make out, even behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses.

A slow, deliberate smile stretched across Alexia's lips as she reached out, her fingers hooking onto your belt loops, pulling you inexorably into the room, you had no room to argue and you weren’t sure you wanted to. The door thudded shut behind you, the click of the lock echoing the sudden thump of your heart against your ribs.

"I've been waiting to see you," Alexia murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

The husky timbre of her voice sent a shiver down your spine, and the raw heat radiating from Alexia's body was almost a tangible thing. Your gaze was helplessly drawn to those captivating brown eyes, usually so open, now shadowed yet somehow more intense behind the tinted glass.

"Your little note was... persuasive," you breathed, your own voice a little shaky.

A delicious heat bloomed in your core, spreading rapidly through your limbs. You felt Alexia's hand slide possessively from your waist down your thigh, the touch sending a jolt of pure sensation through you. She leaned closer, her lips ghosting along your jawline, each feather-light caress raising goosebumps in its wake.

“Those four little numbers held a lot of promise, didn't they?” Alexia chuckled softly, her hand now resting on your hip, holding you captive against the closed door.

Her lips then trailed a line of fire behind your ear, each touch a burn to your neck that you welcomed openly and you instinctively gripped Alexia's shoulders. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt the hard ridge of Alexia's cock pressing against your abdomen, a blatant declaration of intent.

"Alexia," you managed, your voice thick with burgeoning desire, your own lips now tracing the strong line of Alexia's jaw towards her neck.

"Baby," Alexia breathed back, her hand finding the short, dark strands of your hair, her nails gently scratching against your scalp as you tilted your head, casually offering her more access to your throat.

Alexia's lips and teeth left a trail of delicate marks before returning to your mouth, claiming it in a searing kiss that stole your breath and left your knees weak. You had been wanting it all day and this, this really seals the deal for you.

"I love the taste of coffee on you," Alexia murmured against your swollen lips, a hint of a satisfied smile playing on her own.

She stepped back slightly, her hungry gaze devouring you and you felt like a lamb waiting for the lion. It’s then, for the first time since your charged encounter that morning, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. A sudden awareness of your simple attire under Alexia's intense scrutiny. You tried to fold your arms over your chest but Alexia reached out, her hand gently smoothing down the front of your sweater.

"Don't hide from me, you're beautiful," Alexia's voice was a low, gravelly caress.

Alexia then led you deeper into the suite, offering a brief, possessive glance at the luxurious surroundings before guiding you toward the bedroom. The rich gold of the quilt contrasted beautifully with the cool blues and whites of the room, the dark mahogany furniture adding a touch of decadent elegance.

Your breath hitched slightly as your eyes drifted upwards, catching the reflections in the mirrored panels on the ceiling. The surprised, perhaps slightly scandalized, expression on your face made Alexia's lips twitch with amusement.

"Never been in a room like this before?" Alexia whispered, her body pressing intimately against your back, the hard length against your lower spine leaving no doubt about her arousal.

Alexia’s hands settled on your hips, pulling you closer as her mouth trailed kisses down your neck. You could only nod, swallowing hard, every nerve ending in your body singing with a potent mix of anticipation and nerves at the thought of being watched.

"The thought excites you," Alexia murmured against your shoulder before turning to face you.

Agile fingers danced along your sides, finding the zipper at the back of your dress and slowly pulling it down. Alexia's smile widened as her hand slid over your bare back, noting the absence of a bra. A questioning eyebrow arched.

"It felt... right... to be... sexy today," you managed, your eyes flicking to Alexia's lips, the undeniable urge to taste them again rising within you.

You unconsciously licked your own lips, pressing slightly against Alexia. Whether Alexia's answering hum was a reaction to your words or the subtle friction, you couldn't tell, but the sound only fueled your own desire.

Then with a soft rustle, the dress pooled at your feet and you took a step back, your gaze never leaving Alexia's as you moved towards the bed, revealing the strip of black lace of your garter belt and the dark stockings that hugged your thighs.

"I could get very used to this view," Alexia murmured, her eyes tracing the lines of your body as she sat on the edge of the bed.

A newfound confidence radiated from you, evident in the deliberate parting of your legs and the suggestive flick of your finger toward your own damp heat. You watched as Alexia swiftly pulled her sweater over her head and loosened her tie, tossing both aside before untucking her white shirt, offering a tantalizing glimpse of her defined abdomen. As Alexia worked on the buttons, her own hand slipped between your legs, her fingers teasing the swollen nub, her eyes smoldering with undisguised lust, your core already slick with need.

“You're a visual person, aren't you? These mirrors should be quite... accommodating," Alexia's voice was a low purr, her gaze fixed on the rhythmic movements of your fingers.

The discarded shirt joined the other clothes, and then Alexia was quickly undoing her own belt and pants, kicking them aside before kneeling before you.

A flush crept up your neck, your gaze momentarily dropping from Alexia's intense stare, but Alexia simply smiled, a knowing, possessive curve of her lips, before leaning forward and licking a slow, wet path down your inner thigh.

Her own fingers then parted your folds, taking over the exploration, her thumb finding and expertly circling your clit. You gasped, your head falling back as Alexia's tongue dipped inside, bold and confident, while her other fingers stretched you open.

When you finally dared to lift your gaze to the mirrors, the sight that greeted you was breathtaking. You still couldn't quite meet your own eyes, but Alexia's reflection was more than enough to make your legs tremble and widen further. The play of muscles across Alexia's broad shoulders and back as she leaned in, the curve of her toned ass, it was a vision of raw, potent desire.

The appreciative gaze was shattered by a sudden feeling of fullness as Alexia slid two fingers deep inside your slick heat, moving them with a practiced rhythm that sent shivers through you. Alexia's lips then closed over your clit, her tongue a flicking, sucking torment that made you cry out, your hands tangling in Alexia's blonde hair, pulling her closer, your body aching for release.

Alexia obliged, adding a third finger, stretching you wider as she continued her relentless assault, the burning pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly until it finally erupted in a shuddering climax that gripped your body.

Alexia didn't allow you any respite, her lips mapping a trail down your thighs and stomach, her attention then shifting to your breasts, lavishing the same intense focus on each taut nipple while her fingers continued their rhythmic dance inside you, igniting another wave of exquisite sensation.

Barely had you descended from that second peak when Alexia claimed your mouth in a scorching kiss, her fingers now tracing lazy circles around your still-sensitive clit before cupping your face, pulling back to offer a small, knowing smile. It was then that without hesitation, you took all three of Alexia's fingers, slick with your own release into your mouth, sucking on them with a soft hum, your eyes locked with Alexia's, deliberately avoiding your own reflection, a thrill coursing through you at the sheer naughtiness of the act.

"Such a good girl," Alexia chuckled softly, shifting her weight to hover over you, the hard tip of her cock brushing against your inner thigh, leaving a damp trail of her own arousal. You released Alexia's fingers, your hips instinctively lifting slightly off the bed.

"Just fuck me already," you gasped, your fingers reaching out to grip Alexia's hips, digging into the firm muscle.

Your impatient plea elicited a low growl from Alexia, who grasped your hips roughly, aligning herself before plunging into you's slick heat, a guttural moan escaping her lips at the feeling of your tight embrace.

"Open your eyes," Alexia whispered, kneeling between your legs and lifting them, placing your ankles on her shoulders, raising your ass high, just inches from the mattress.

Then, she began to thrust, her lips pressing soft kisses to your ankles, her hips maintaining a steady, relentless rhythm. The thick length of Alexia’s cock stretched you deliciously, each deep stroke brushing against your inner walls, making your hands clench the sheets.You forced your gaze to the mirror, the image reflected there was a potent cocktail of lust and vulnerability.

Each thrust sent a jolt of pure sensation through your body moving in sync with Alexia's. Your heavy breasts bounced, the sensitive nipples aching for attention, you reached down, cupping their fullness, your fingers teasing the hard peaks until you were panting, on the precipice once more.

You risked a glance at Alexia: her head was bowed, her gaze fixed on your joined bodies, one hand now moving so her thumb could circle the swollen knot at your entrance, sending you spiraling towards another climax. This time, Alexia joined you, her hips buckling with a sudden, powerful surge as Alexia spilled her seed deep inside you.

It took a few moments before Alexia finally withdrew, collapsing sideways beside you, her fingers tracing small, soothing patterns on your shoulder.

"Damn," you managed, your eyes still closed, your body still humming with the aftershocks.

"Was that a good fuck?" Alexia asked, a hint of a satisfied smile in her voice.

"Yes, you idiot," you laughed softly, turning to Alexia, your hand resting on her cheek.

"So, can we do this again?" Alexia asked, covering your hand with her own.

“Well, we don't need a hotel next time. We can simply do this in our own home.”

“I thought all this... strange thing was fun,” Alexia teased, moving closer and pulling you into her arms.

"It was the wait for you that made me harder than sin."

You laughed, snuggling into Alexia's embrace, your fingers tracing the cool metal of the ring on Alexia's finger.

"Well, we have a list, and we've already ticked off 'strange hotel encounter.' I'm rather intrigued by 'voyeur.'"

"Of course. Now, how about we try out that amazing whirlpool bathtub in this room?" Alexia suggested, as a mischievous glint returned to her eyes.

[redflagshipwriter]

Snatching Snitches pt 4

Masterpost

“Father.” Bruce yelped as Damian appeared, like a wraith, at his elbow. His hand convulsed to hold the 105 page treadmill manual in his grip hard enough to tear the paper cover. His heart rate picked up in that instant as his hard-won instincts to fight were ruthlessly suppressed by his conscious awareness that he was safely at his home. Bruce could not strike. He strangled his impulses, if barely.

His son ignored the reaction entirely on, blithe about startling someone who might lash out. “I require transportation.” Fuck. Christ. He could have hurt Damian.

Bruce blinked and took a moment to come back to the real world as he put down the manual he was reading. “Ah…” He racked his memory for his sons’ schedules, trying to make this interaction make sense. Nothing came to mind at 6pm on Tuesday, so he gave up and asked, “Where to?”

“Titans Tower,” Damian instructed. He glowered, his green eyes shining in the lowlight. He was, Bruce thought, adorable. Bruce was still strangling panic at the intrusive thought that he might have harmed his baby. He took a deep breath and put away the frisson of fear in order to exist in the current moment.

He kept the resulting smile off of his face, as his prickly baby would not appreciate it. “Oh?” he said mildly. Bruce stood up and brushed dust off his trousers. “Are you going to meet someone?”

“I require a consultation with one of the trainers there,” Damian reported sharply. He was all but standing at attention.

Bruce went through a mental inventory in an instant– Raven. Damian had to be intending to speak with Raven to get a tracking spell or some such for his cat. That…

Well. She would probably tell him no, but it wasn’t his place to try to shield his kids too much from the world. Besides, Damian was a persuasive young man. Perhaps she could find his kitty for him.

‘I wouldn’t mind knowing where the cat went,’ Bruce thought privately. He fetched his keys for the car in the right city, ready to escort Damian through the transportation relay to San Francisco. ‘Even if he wasn’t heartbroken, it’s troubling that a cat managed to get from Bristol to a bus depot in Gotham Central.’

That was somehow more upsetting than the fact that the cat hadn’t been seen on camera after that bus ride. The cameras were low-quality. The cat could have been hidden under seats or inside a bag. But how had the naked cat navigated Gotham’s troubled public transportation system? Most of his kids didn’t dare try.

Hopefully the damn thing hadn’t been eaten by a coyote or something. Damian would never forgive the bearer of bad news.

XXX

The flock of imbeciles at the tower of stunted titans were useless to his aims. They clustered him with bids for attention and puerile greetings. Damian stoically endured their pleasantries until he had pierced the inner sanctum and then beelined for the quarters belonging to the current head trainer.

“Raven.” He rapped at her chamber door, respectful in the presence of an aged witch. “I wish to speak with you.”

The door opened with no human touch. The buzz of demonic magic rattled around in his teeth, an unpleasant crispness to the air as Raven exercised her powers.

“Come in, Robin.” Her scratchy voice called out. He stepped inside and turned to see the woman sitting midair, cloak and hair dangling down. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” he said, “but not in a world shaking sense.” He confronted her head-on. “I believe that I encountered a spirit or ghost of some variety. It stayed with me for several weeks before disappearing. As I am invested in his welfare, I much desire to locate him again.”

Her eyebrows went up high on her oddly short, round forehead. “Do you have a foci- you have a whole scrapbook. Alright.” She took it from him and then blinked. “He took the shape of a cat?”

“He was clearly intelligent, and capable of walking through solid matter,” Damian laid out his case. “Undoubtedly he is more than the average feline, as he is capable of using a tablet to write in English. However, I am concerned for his welfare. When he came to me, his condition was poor and his stress was obviously high. I cannot rest without confirming his welfare. I have traced his travel to a dank pit of despair known as Amity Park, which seems to be rife with dangers for ghosts.”

If only he knew where Snitches was hiding there, Damian would simply retrieve his boy.

“Do you have any type of contract or bond connecting you?”

Damian nodded and indicated the scrapbook with a nod. “Please turn to page 62.”

Paper flipped. She regarded the gold-lined paper and the paw prints on it dispassionately. “That should work,” Raven admitted wryly. She seemed amused. “Stand by. Let’s do this now.” Her eyes flickered with an unholy light and she lifted her hands, palms-up and fingers splayed. “Let’s see what kind of answer we can get.” She tossed her hair slightly as she looked upwards and started the mutter to herself. Paper rustled in a sourceless wind.

Damian took a judicious step backwards. It was well that he did. A glistening crack in reality peeled itself open. It was virulently green.

“In you go.”

He stepped into the crack and then up a short set of mahogany stairs, into a circular office. Raven followed at his heels, floating in and peering around.

A skeleton in a blue military uniform with some unknown epaulets raised a bony hand in greeting. “Welcome to custody court, how can I help you?” He seemed unpaused by the flying girl.

Damian brandished his scrapbook with the original copy of his precious paperwork. “I adopted a ghost, as you can see.” He pointed to Snitches’s pawprint signature. “He has run away. I am extremely concerned for his welfare.”

The dead man leaned in to examine the paperwork. It very clearly had “Adoption Certificate” branded across the top in ornamental script. “That seems to be in order. You need help finding and placing him, then?”

“He needs to sue for custody,” Raven interjected. Her eyes glinted purple in the dim light. “We don’t know if there are any current guardians, but we suspect the minor is experiencing neglect.”

The skeleton grunted and hit a button on his chest. “Can we get a compliance officer in here?” He asked. “Need to look into a vulnerable minor ghost.”

Damian felt a thrill of success. Finally, he was on the right track. And everyone here seemed shockingly competent.

The compliance officer appeared in the form of a purple tinted middle aged woman, with an extremely dated hairstyle. “Good morning and evening, if you’ll provide me with a record of the child’s ecto signature, I’ll be able to do a home check.”

Damian proffered the scrapbook. “Will something in this suffice?”

She took it with a hum and started flipping through. “Oh, yes,” she said. She picked up the collection of hairs that Snitches had shed onto the pillow and absorbed it into her hand. “I’ll go find him and investigate his condition.”

“Do not alarm him,” Damian said. His stomach twisted. “He is only a little boy.”

The ghost nodded, her glasses slipping up and down her nose. “I’ll be circumspect,” she promised. Then she bustled away as the skeleton man returned with a hefty stack of paperwork.

Raven peered over his shoulder as he worked on it. “Write your name as D. Wayne,” she advised. “I have a premonition.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and did as she said.

The paperwork was extensive, and it took at least an hour. During that time the compliance officer reappeared. She was significantly more ruffled than she had appeared at departure. “Well!” She slicked down her hair, which had puffed out in shock from its sleek updo and was fizzing slightly.

Damian leaned over to confirm that the edges of her clothing were smoking and torn. “How was visitation?”

She made an odd high-pitched sound, almost like a hiccup. Her whole figure went static momentarily. “Why don’t we all have a look!” She held up an oval. “I would have to concur that the minor is not in a safe environment.” An image of two people in a fight fizzled into being.

Damian squinted. “I do not…” he trailed off as he really looked at them.

Of the two figures, one was a sleek and confident female figure in a rocker outfit. The other figure was awkward and somewhat gangly, extremely vulnerable and yet determined.

How very odd. But there was only one possible explanation:

“The white and black one is Snitches.”

He was not quite as cute as he had been before. Damian straightened his back to military precision and steeled himself. He would adapt. Taking responsibility via adoption was a lifelong commitment, and he would not be deterred by the loss of paws.

‘I will miss the paws.’ Damian froze. ‘The pawprints in that album are the only remaining evidence of how small my boy once was. I have already missed his childhood.’

The custody officer looked pleased. “Yes, 5 months deceased Danny Phantom, formerly Fenton.”

“Five months,” Raven mouthed quietly, appalled.

Damian reeled. 5 months. A pathetic 20 weeks of existence. He was even more a babe than Damian had realized. And now he was out there, helpless and afraid!

‘I only knew him for twenty percent of his life. I have missed almost all of his youth. I must retrieve him immediately.’

“Yes, an infant,” agreed the wellness officer. Her smile went toothy when she looked back at her still image. “He was being harassed by an older ghost when I arrived, and I had to intervene. After a wellness interview with him, I am interested in opening a case to sue for custody.”

“Excellent,” said Raven. “We would like to proceed as quickly as possible.”

“You are, of course, an adult by the standards of your species?” The officer confirmed.

Was that relevant? Damian stiffened, shocked by this turn of events.

“Yea, of course. Dick Wayne, age 32, is suing for custody,” Raven interjected. Her voice was mild and unaffected. “I’m his representation.”

…Damian nodded. He tried to look 32. Should he clutch at his joints? He settled for a grimace, as though pushing bravely through pain. Dick was very noble in his suffering, after all.

“Very well,” said the ghost cheerfully. “I’ll need copies of your personal documents to move further in this, and to do a home check, a few other things.”

‘I cannot have her come to do a home check at the manor. Father will intervene and reveal my impersonation, and then I shall not receive my child.’

“Of course,” Damian said through gritted teeth. Would Todd allow him to use a safe house, perhaps? There must be a solution. “Would tomorrow be acceptable?”

It was in a haze of planning stress that they confirmed the appointment, Raven taking the lead with her strange half smile. They stepped back through her portal into Titans Tower.

For a moment, Damian stood in shock. Then he cleared his throat. “Dick’s last name is unfortunately not Wayne,” he said.

It wasn’t the largest sticking point, but he was concerned. The paperwork had to be accurate to be legally binding.

Raven hummed. “Yes, we’ll have to adopt him for Bruce.” She shook her hair. “He has the paperwork ready, we’ll just take it and file it. Upper left desk drawer in your father’s office, in an envelope.”

“I will retrieve it,” Damian promised solemnly. “Thank you for your legal counsel.”

“No, no,” Raven said mildly. “It’s the least I can do after all that Dick has done.”

“…all that he has done to aid you recently?” Damian confirmed. He glanced at her full-on for the first time in at least an hour, confused. Her support was appreciated, but it was not expected. The situation had escalated. Truly, Dick had cultivated noble companions in his youth!

She hummed in the back of her throat. “Something like that,” Raven said vaguely. “Let’s go make Dick a legal ghost father.”

[thisisnotthenerd]

finished my mighty nein speedrun. four weeks. all 141 episodes. no talks because i don't have the time to go looking for it. i feel like i've been on a bender.

but i've noted a few things about them that powered my hyperfixation:

they're so conversant with each other. every person talks to every other person either in one on one or in group conversation and they do so with regularity. for a group that was very hesitant to share their backstories at first they really read as close friends in a trusted circle.

how strategic they are. sometimes they're chucklefucks, as all adventuring parties tend to be, but they try to hit the ground running. sometimes it takes some talking through, but they make complex and unexpected decisions that change the course of encounters in seconds.

their even distribution of skills. they have good INT (caleb, beau, veth), good WIS (caduceus, jester, caleb, beau), good CHA (fjord, caduceus, caleb), good STR (yasha, jester), good DEX (beau, veth, molly), and good CON (fjord, yasha, jester, beau). they cover all of their bases and specialize where they need to in order to get the most out of their checks (caduceus with perception, caleb, beau and veth on investigation, fjord on persuasion/deception, yasha and jester for athletics, so on and so forth).

the strong motivations that drive them. each one of them has individual goals that they're pursuing that drive them both to conflict and to forward trajectory. fjord, finding out about his patron and choosing between the paths offered to him. jester, sowing chaos in the name of her god as she explores the world. caleb, fleeing from his past until he turns to seek justice in the name of his homeland. veth, seeking her family and her body back. yasha, seeking redemption and an end to the violence that defined her life. molly/kingsley, living life to the fullest and making something of the fragments he was left with. caduceus, serving his god to save his home and family. beau, finding direction in seeking the truth. even when they're pursuing a goal that only pertains to one of them particularly, they all are still present and progressing through their own goals, i.e. travelercon

there's more but i'm tired and can't process more right now.

[incognit0slut]

MASTER OF PERSUASION

Part 4 of kinktober | main masterlist

meandom!Spencer/Hotch x fem!reader; Threesome, creampie, dumbification, degradation, brat taming, abuse of power, edging, dubcon

Your involvement in a heinous crime was questioned by the two FBI agents who were eager to do anything to get you to talk.

Words: 6802

a/n: This one is dedicated to my nasty, touch-starved btches who secretly wants to be manhandled by two older men. Enjoy this pure filth🫶

YOU WERE FAR FROM BEING A GOOD PERSON. From the surface, you seemed like a normal, typical woman, just one of the countless faces within the crowd. But when the doors shut behind you, you find yourself involved in endeavors you should never have pursued in the first place.

You knew too much. You were acutely aware of how many crimes happening in your vicinity. The number of deaths resulting from these heinous acts should be enough to terrify you, but it didn't, because unbeknownst to your peers, you were one of the reasons why they happened.

Although you never played the role of the perpetrator, you were the person these criminals came to for information. You were good with technology, you could hack into any secure system in the blink of an eye. It was almost as if you were a deity of the dark web, a mastermind whose mere presence served as a godsend to those carrying out these crimes.

It was easy money; you gave what they wanted, received what they paid you, and most importantly, you made sure to never look back. You always wiped everything out after each job was done, but somehow, after working on so many deals, your luck finally struck out.

Somebody hacked into your system—no, somebody good hacked into your system. This person knew what they were doing. They managed to hack through your firewall and retrieve a few of your data while also discovering your identity.

You honestly wanted to praise whoever was on the other side because you had never encountered someone who could match, if not surpass, your own skill. But it wasn't until you heard the loud banging on your front door, followed by people in uniformed vests rushing in and pointing their guns at you, that you finally realized who had breached your system.

It was the FBI.

So that was how you found yourself sitting inside an interrogation room hours later with two agents across from you. A very tall, intimidating man stood at the corner, his arms crossed as he watched you silently. Dr. Spencer Reid was how he introduced himself, and the way he emphasized the title in front of his name, you were certain he was the type of person who took extreme pride in his intelligence.

He seemed a little too cocky.

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, on the other hand, was hard to decipher. The older man appeared somewhat guarded as if his job had forced him to put on a facade devoid of genuine emotions. Maybe it did. He was, after all, a federal agent. Both of them were. These men were probably taught to master the art of maintaining an inscrutable poker face.

Nevertheless, they were both intimidating, and you wondered to yourself, was good cop bad cop not a thing anymore? Because as far as this was going, none of them seemed inclined to make things easy for you.

The man in front of you cleared his throat, his voice was a well-practiced blend of authority and curiosity. "You've been quite elusive, haven't you, Miss Y/L/N?"

You leaned back, studying him through half-lidded eyes, your fingers tracing the edges of the table with a cool, almost casual detachment. "Elusiveness is a matter of perspective, Agent Hotchner. I prefer to think of it as adaptability."

"Adaptability?" He leaned in closer, his sharp gaze never wavering. "You've made quite a name for yourself. You've infiltrated government agencies, stolen classified data, and even orchestrated financial heists... Impressive, I must say."

A faint smile danced upon your lips, revealing just a glimmer of amusement. "I simply explore the hidden avenues of the World Wide Web. It's not about the thrill; it's about the knowledge."

His eyes narrowed. "But your actions have consequences. You've caused quite a chaos, don't you think?"

"Consequences are a part of every action, whether in the digital realm or the physical world. As for chaos..." You met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "Well, sometimes chaos is necessary for evolution."

He leaned back, his expression unyielding. "Evolution or anarchy?"

"As I said, everything is a matter of perspective, even anarchy," you replied, your voice smooth as silk. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm just a catalyst. Society's flaws were there long before I came along."

The man in the corner took a step forward. His eyes bore into you with resolve as if he had grown weary of the ongoing debate. "You've had your say," he interjected with a steely tone. "You know why you're here. Our victim's files were found on your computer, we need to know who requested them."

You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement, unfazed by his direct approach. "Doctor Reid," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mock surprise. "Always chasing ghosts in the machine, aren't you?"

His expression remained composed, his intellect undeniably sharp. "We're not here to discuss my pursuits. We're here to talk about the life you've disrupted."

"Disrupted? I'd say I've merely revealed the cracks in the system. Your victim, as you call them, was a casualty of a much larger game."

"Games have rules, Miss Y/L/N. You seem to operate outside of them."

"Rules are made to be broken, Spencer," you retorted, your tone cutting like a blade through the air. "I can call you that, right? I hate having to speak with such formalities."

"It's Doctor Reid," he corrected. "Tell us who you're working for."

His unwavering determination was met with a subtle, knowing smile from you. You leaned forward, your eyes locking onto his with a hint of intrigue.

"I don't know, Spencer," you began, your tone slightly softer, as if you were letting him in on a secret, "The digital world is a labyrinth of information. Files come and go, they disappear and reappear... It's like trying to catch a shadow in the dark. It's useless."

He addressed you with a cold stare. "You're playing a dangerous game here."

You raised an eyebrow, your voice honeyed with allure. "Oh, I'm well aware of the game we're playing. But don't mistake my refusal to cooperate for arrogance. It's just that some secrets are meant to stay hidden."

The room seemed to contract, the air thick with unresolved tension. Aaron cleared his throat and your eyes fell back on him. "Miss Y/L/N, give us a name and we can make things easier for you. But if you don't cooperate..." His eyes traveled down along your body, the goosebumps rose on your skin in response to the heat of his gaze. "I'm afraid we have to resort to extreme measures."

A brief pause hung in the room. There was something in the way he was staring at you. He was looking at you with a profound determination that seemed very different from the way he assessed you before. Under the weight of his scrutiny, you felt your body growing hot. Your breath hitched, and a flush of warmth crept up your neck and tingled in your cheeks.

You regarded him for a moment before you finally spoke, your voice calm but tinged with a hint of defiance.

"If you think you can break me, Aaron, you're gravely mistaken. But if you're interested in the name..." you leaned back, crossing your arms. "I guess you'll have to earn it."

The tension in the room escalated as your words hung in the air. His jaw clenched, and when you thought you had won the upper hand over this battle of wits, he surprised you by waving his hand in the air, and Spencer came forward.

It was as if they had planned this. The way Aaron instructed his partner to move seemed rehearsed and calculated. Spencer walked over to you and before you could register what was happening, he grabbed onto your arm and wrenched you out of your chair with a force you didn't know he possessed.

Your voice carried a mix of anger and frustration as you protested, "What the hell are you doing?"

You suddenly felt him run his hands along your arms. "Checking for weapons."

The scoff you gave him was loud. "Oh, now you're treating me like a criminal?"

"It's a mere precaution."

And then you felt it, the way his touch lingered on your body. It was far from any normal search. His hands felt warm on your skin, even over the material of your shirt, as he continued to pat down your arms. There was a certain roughness in his movements as he slid his arms around your backside and you couldn't mistake the way he gripped your ass more than he should probably have.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered under your breath. "You won't find anything."

"I'll be the judge of that." He slightly shoved your shoulders. "Put your hands on the table."

You reluctantly did as you were told, silently gritting your teeth. His hands moved with purpose, and as much as you wanted to stop this questionable act, your body was reacting in a way that had you questioning yourself instead.

Why was your heart beating so fast as he stood behind you? Why was it getting so hard to breathe when his hands slipped around your waist? And why did it seem you were anticipating more when his palms slightly hovered over your breasts?

"Is this really necessary?" You asked quietly, trying to act as if his rough hands on you weren't affecting you. "This feels more like an attempt for intimidation."

You could practically hear the smugness in his voice as he asked, "Are you intimidated, Miss Y/L/N?"

You liked to think that you weren't, but honestly, you didn't know anymore. You had tried your best to put on a mask to avoid appearing weak, but as he started to squeeze your breasts in the palm of his hands, it finally dawned on you what was happening—You were finally caught, there was a high chance of you ending up in jail, and now a federal agent was touching you inappropriately, groping you in a crude form of patting you down.

And to your dismay, you actually liked it.

But you had too much of a pride, that was why you found yourself lying through your teeth. "No."

Spencer hummed a reply as if he didn't believe you. He squeezed your breasts through your shirt again, palming at them as he slightly felt your nipples stiffen through the material, and he couldn't resist rolling them as his touch continued lower. Your breath hitched as he mapped out your curves, one of his hands delving between your thighs before he stopped right at the center of your heat.

You let out a gasp.

"I-Is this even legal?"

Your mind went blurry as you felt his fingers touching you through the thin fabric of your pants. "Are you questioning how the law enforcement works?"

You couldn't answer him. Not because you didn't want to, but because you weren't able to form any coherent words as he continued to palm your sex, his fingers continuing to rub you. You were suddenly so focused on the way he was touching you, your head hanging low as you felt the sensation throughout your body, that you didn't even hear Aaron calling out your name.

It wasn't until Spencer retrieved his hand from between your thighs, and yanked your hair from behind, that you were forced to meet Aaron's gaze. "He called you," Spencer mocked, tightening his grip.

Aaron leaned forward, assessing the way you were arching your back with both of your hands planted on the table. "You have two options. One, we can play nicely, you give us a name and we'll go easy on you." His voice dropped lower as he continued, "Or two, you keep with this attitude and we might have to coax the answer out of you."

You locked eyes with him, a silent challenge burning in your gaze. Despite being in this vulnerable position, there was an undeniable strength in your stare, a refusal to surrender to their intimidation. Aaron met your gaze with a profound understanding.

"The hard way it is then." You saw him lean back in his chair as he crossed his arms, the subtle movement actuating his broad chest. "You know what to do, Reid."

There was nothing remotely gentle about the way Spencer handled you after those words. He shoved you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you gasped, your body pressed against the cool surface of the table. Somehow between your struggles, he managed to slide his hands around your waist, unbuttoning your pants before pushing them down your legs.

The air hit your bare skin, and even when you felt the cool breeze, your body was seething with fire, burning through your veins. The warmth spread along your cheeks as you realized you were wearing your skimpiest underwear, a flimsy material of dark lace that barely covered your sex. He gripped your ass with the palm of his hands, fingertips digging into the plush skin as he spread you apart.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" You felt him shift behind you and you imagined him kneeling right in front of your heat. The moment his knuckles brushed along your wet patch, your hips bucked involuntarily. "She's wet, Hotch, I think she's getting a little too excited."

"I'm not surprised," the older man said. "She does seem like a slut."

Your head snapped at him. "I am not a slut."

"Oh, you are a slut." He leaned forward and reached out his hand, holding your chin in a vice grip, forcing you to look at him. "And we'll prove you how much of a whore you actually are."

Right on queue, a surprised gasp left your lips when Spencer's large palm burned your skin, giving your ass a harsh slap. The sound echoed in the room and he repeated the motion, watching in satisfaction the way your ass rippled for him. You fell into a false sense of security as he began to soothe his hand against your burning skin before pulling back to give another loud smack, and your mouth fell apart in pleasure.

"Not a fucking slut?" Aaron taunted, his thumb brushing on your lower lip. "That's the most farfetched lie you told us ever since you walked through that door."

You glared at him, but your defiance slowly shattered when you felt Spencer pulling down your panties over the curve of your ass, slipping them down your legs. The evidence of your arousal stuck onto the fabric and you felt your cheeks going warm in embarrassment. Spencer sucked in a gasp as he took in the sight of your lower half completely naked for him.

"Barely even touched you and you're soaking wet," he murmured, letting his thumb brush over your pussy, gauging your reaction. Your nose scrunched as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side, yet you could still feel his touch everywhere.

Each downstroke he made gave a light pull against your clit without giving any direct contact, and each time his fingers came back up, he slowly spread your folds open for him, briefly allowing your slickness to come in contact with the cold breeze of air.

Your mind became hazy, and just when you thought your body couldn't react more to his touch, he slipped a finger between your folds, feeling your slick against the dainty flesh. The motion caused your hips to buck erratically and your hands immediately reached up to grip onto the edge of the table.

He slipped deep inside you as your arousal coated him, circling your tight entrance as he felt the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his finger. He let out a low grunt as he felt how tight you were around him, curling at the knuckle while he began to drag his calloused pad against the soft spot inside you, making your body shake just from the mere contact.

The subtle reaction didn't go unnoticed by Aaron and he watched as your eyes glazed over. He couldn't stop himself from smirking, his features revealing a hint of amusement.

"You're enjoying this too much. I'm starting to think you're keeping your silence for the sake of this." You moved your head away from his grasp, only for him to grip your jaw harder. "Don't fucking move. Keep your eyes on me while he fucks your tight little pussy."

You never thought you'd be hearing such crude words from him, not with his stoic demeanor and polished facade, nor did you expect your body to react the way it did when those words filled your ears. You couldn't help it, your body betrayed your mind as your cunt continued to throb between your thighs. You could feel the desire building inside you, threatening to burst as you felt your body shake, and Spencer was well aware of this as he felt your walls clenching around his finger.

The laugh coming through his lips rang in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "She liked that."

Aaron raised his eyebrows at you. "You like it when I talk like this?" He taunted. "You like it when I tell you how much of a slut you are taking his fingers so deep inside you?"

Your eyelids dropped lower at his words, and right at that moment, a lewd squelch filled the room as Spencer slowly slipped another finger into your dripping cunt, stretching you out as he began to thrust them inside you at a steady pace. Your body quivered as your breath quickened, and you found yourself grinding against his touch, desperately trying to get him to press the same spot inside you.

"Look at you fucking yourself on my fingers," Spencer cooed, his free hand smacking your bare ass again, and you found yourself arching your back. "You really are filthy."

Aaron laughed. "Acting like you didn't want it a second ago." He gripped your jaw tighter, forcing a gasp out of you at the subtle pain. He took advantage of your opened mouth by slipping his thumb inside. "Suck on my finger, Sweetheart."

You didn't know which one surprised you the most, his sudden term of endearment, or the order he gave you. You hesitated, because the moment you willingly sucked on his finger, you knew you would lose. The moment you followed through to his demand, he would have the upper hand and you would simply be the pawn in this game.

Aaron, as you realized, wasn't a patient man. His other hand reached for your hair and then, with a sharp and sudden yank, he tore at your hair. "Don't make me use more force than I already am."

Your roots tingled, your scalp throbbing, and a few tears welled up in your eyes. You blinked them away, not wanting to show any sign of weakness, and leveled your gaze at him.

He pulled your hair again. "Suck."

The pain was so much for you that you found yourself wavering. You swirled your tongue around his thumb before closing your lips and sucking with an approving hum. A husky moan was pulled from deep within him, overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth on him, and, especially, the sight of you. "That's it," he praised you. "Suck on it as if you're sucking my cock."

Your walls clenched again. A sound of pleasure erupted from Spencer as he felt your cunt sucking in his fingers, and without warning, he pumped them into you with so much force you couldn't stop yourself from moaning this time. He laughed, as did Aaron, and your body shook as you felt that familiar sensation tightening along your body.

The room around you seemed to blur and melt away at the pleasure coursing in your veins. It started in the pit of your stomach, a warm, liquid sensation that spread like a slow-burning fire, radiating outwards in waves. Your hushed moan was muffled by Aaron's thumb in your mouth, but the sound of your pathetic whining didn't go unnoticed by both men.

You were so fucking close you could feel every nerve in your body on high alert. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and your body quivered with the intensity of the sensation. Your eyes fell shut as the lewd sound of your arousal filled the room, and just when you were about to let go, Spencer suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, wrenching away that peak of pleasure you were desperately chasing.

Your eyes shot open, dilated pupils now wide with shock and confusion. Aaron met your gaze with amusement, a sadistic smile dancing on his lips as he pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop. "Stupid girl, thinking we'd actually let you cum."

The abrupt contrast between the heights of your pleasure and the stark void that followed was jarring. But before you could comprehend your disappointment, you heard a shuffle behind you followed by footsteps circling you. Spencer finally came back into your line of vision and with no one standing behind you, you tried to push yourself from the table, only to be shoved back down by Aaron.

"Fucking stay where you are," he commanded, his sharp voice piercing right through you. Your eyes were fixed on him, gaze unwavering as he slowly rose from his seat. And then suddenly he was the one behind you, and now Spencer stood right in front of you, looking down at you with amusement.

"You know," he started, his fingers trailing the side of your face. You moved your head away from his touch, but unlike Aaron, he didn't force you to look at him. He merely chuckled as he continued, "You wouldn't be in this position if you had given us the name."

Hearing this, you finally glanced up at him. The self-confidence he carried was starting to annoy you and you couldn't stop yourself from spitting venom, especially when he had ripped away the pleasure thrumming in your body. "I told you to fucking earn it."

The remaining air was knocked from your lungs when the palm of his hand collided with your cheek, your head jolting to the right from the force of the impact. Bright white stars danced behind your closed eyelids, and for a second you thought that you were dizzy from the shock. But then you felt it, the pressure that had been building in your core giving way, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

"Dirty girl," he taunted. "Here I was trying to shut you up and you actually liked that? You like being slapped around?"

You remained quiet, looking away from him.

"And don't worry, you will tell us by the end of this." You faintly hear the sound of metal ringing in your ears. Your eyes fell back on him and your heart sank when his hands moved down to his belt, unbuckling it as he let it hang around his hips.

His fingers moved to unbutton his pants before tugging down the fly. The sight of his hard cock tenting beneath his briefs had your cunt clenching in anticipation, as much as you hated to admit it. Then his thumbs dipped into the hem of his boxers, tugging the fabric down, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He was bigger than you'd expected. He was thick and solid, veins danced along his length and the droplet of wetness on his tip was too mesmerizing you couldn't look away.

He wrapped a fist around his length, hissing in relief as he made his way towards you. "Now let's put that filthy mouth of yours to good use." He pressed the head of his cock against your lips, half-lidded eyes gazing down at you as he leaned forward. "Open."

The musky scent of him overwhelmed you as you breathed in and you involuntarily opened your mouth wide to accommodate his girth. The flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock as he gave soft, shallow thrusts inside your warm mouth. His fingers held onto your face as he watched his length disappear inside you.

"God, look at you—" Spencer rasped, his voice sounding strained. "Good fucking girl."

Each roll of his hips has more of his thick cock slipping inside your mouth. His palm moved to the back of your head, holding you steady as he forced his length further down your throat, watching as your cheeks darkened and your eyes watered. Your hands moved up to push at his thighs as you struggled against his grip, the desire to breathe overwhelming as you tried to push him away.

You suddenly felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and you began to cough and splutter around him, your throat constricting as the sensation flowed directly through his cock. The sensation made him groan out in pleasure as he finally eased his grip on your head and leaned back, allowing you to breathe as you continued to splutter, drool dripping down your chin as you gulped for much-needed air.

Your head felt delirious. You were too focused on catching your breath when you unexpectedly felt something thick pushing into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking you over as you let out a scream.

"Hotch," Spencer laughed, tightening his grip on your hair while he positioned his cock back onto your lips again. "You shocked her."

Aaron merely grunted a reply as he held onto your hips and started to thrust his cock into you. His thickness sent a ripple of pain between your legs. He was definitely bigger than anyone you'd been with before, your breath coming out in soft, shallow pants as he drove more of himself inside your tightness. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip as a dull ache filled your body, trying to ignore the pain as he continued to stretch your tight heat.

There were no words after that, the room was hazy with desire as the heat built within the small space. The two men focused their attention on your body as you took them at the same time. It was filthy, depraved, and something you'd never done before. You never thought you would be in this position, nor did you think you'd actually enjoy being used like this.

Because you did, you really fucking did. Your entire body felt hot, a scorching fire flowing through your veins as you embraced the sensation, an indescribable pleasure taking over as Aaron's cock curved towards that delicious spot inside you with precision.

Your body was pressed against the table, sweaty and exhausted. It was torture, the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt and burned with pleasure at the same time. Each thrust had you hanging on the edge of release, unable to think straight as your mouth continued to mindlessly babble around Spencer's cock.

Every so often he'd hold the back of your head securely so you couldn't move away as he continued to bury himself in your throat. A pleased sound escaped his lips as you started to choke around his girth. It felt like you were starting to drown yourself as he shoved into you ruthlessly. Your lungs cried out for air as you began to feel woozy from the lack of oxygen, desperately trying to breathe through your nose.

"Fuck," he hissed, finally easing his hips back to give you relief. You spluttered as you gasped for air, a mixture of his arousal and your spit dribbled down your chin. "So fucking messy."

You tried to calm your breathing, but it didn't take long for your brain to turn into mush again because Aaron snapped his hips, pulling a moan from your lips as he started a harsh pace. Fingertips dug into your hips as he buried more of himself inside your tightness, your inner walls pulsing around him.

His thrusts were hard and you were certain you'd have marks on your skin from the way he was rutting against you, a dull ache panging inside your lower half. Your mouth fell open in a constant moan as you tried to hold your body up against the table. A throb coursed through you as you tried to hold onto the edge, your breath coming out in harsh pants. You were so desperate for your release, your body so close to coming undone.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, are you going to cum?"

You mumbled out a garbled reply as he continued thrusting into you relentlessly, your fingertips digging into the table as you felt his cock dragging against your inner walls. Aaron grunted at the sensation of you clenching around him. His eyes drifted down to where your bodies were connected and watched the way his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt.

He was on the edge of his release, you could tell by the way he thrust into you desperately. You prepared yourself for your own pleasure, your hips moving involuntarily, meeting his erratic movement, as you seek more friction from him. You whimpered, feeling his fingertips dig into your skin almost painfully and you felt the familiar sensation traveling along your body. Fuck. Fuck yes. You were finally going to—

A drawn-out whine left your lips when he pulled his cock out from your tight heat. The sudden emptiness had your body shaking violently. It wasn't until you felt a streak of wetness spluttering on your back that you realized he had reached his own high without letting you reach your own.

"Shit," he gasped, slapping your ass as he watched his own liquid seeping down the curve of your back. "That was incredible."

You groaned. Fucking selfish man.

"What was that?"

It then dawned on you that you actually mumbled those words out loud. You shook your head and he groaned at your lack of words. "That didn't sound like nothing."

And suddenly, as if you weighed nothing, he grabbed onto your body and turned you over, pushing you onto your back. You were too weak to even fight him as he shoved your pants off your feet before spreading your legs apart. You watched as he leaned down and a long string of clear liquid fell from his lips toward your cunt, letting it trickle down between your folds.

"Knew you were a slut," he hissed, before straightening himself and tucking his cock back in his pants. Your eyes drifted toward him. He was big, just as big as you felt him inside you. But it wasn't his sheer size that surprised you, it was Spencer standing by your feet that had your heart peaking up its pace. Aaron smirked as he stepped back and Spencer quickly took his place between your legs.

"Look at you still holding back," Aaron taunted, genuine curiosity lacing in his voice as he paced around the room. "You're worn out. You're filthy. Aren't you tired of playing this game?"

You looked over at him tiredly. Amidst the pulsing waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, you fought to maintain your focus. "Y- You haven't done anything m-much to earn—"

His laughter sent a chill through the room. "Oh, Sweetheart, you think you're winning, but you're not." He then locked his gaze on you. "Trust me, we already have you in the palm of our hands."

You tried retorting back but the once-sharp edges of your concentration began to blur when you felt Spencer's throbbing cock right between your pussy. Each pulse of pleasure sent tremors through your resolve as he eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen head through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way you spread for him as though inviting him inside.

"You're already fucked out," Spencer murmured, dragging the tip of his cock through your wetness, feeling it catch against your tight entrance. "Yet look at you swallowing me."

He let the underside of his cock split your folds open, resting it between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. The sinful noise that left your lips had his cock throbbing painfully, the thick veins protruding from his length. He angled your body against him, pushing more of his thick girth inside your trembling body, feeling the way you squeezed around him as he stretched you out.

Spencer pressed his fingers into the curve of your hips as his gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart. You gasped, your breaths growing more erratic as he managed to push all of his length inside you. He ran his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel his cock inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he pulsed at the sensation.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, "Taking me so well."

And then he slowly dragged his cock away from you, keeping just the tip in your entrance before plunging back inside in a harsh, jarring movement, jolting you in surprise. You arched your back and tipped your head back in pleasure, just to find Aaron towering above you, looking down at you with an eerie smile.

His fingers trailed down your shoulder blades before they hovered at the buttons on your shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. "I think it's time that you give us a name."

Your body writhed in response to the waves of sensation as you tried to ground yourself. But it was hard to keep thinking straight when he grabbed onto the underlayer of your bra and lifted it over your chest. The way your perky breasts spilled out from beneath the fabric made both men hum in satisfaction.

Calloused palms grabbed onto your breasts and your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the sensation. His thumb brushed against your soft nipple, watching as it began to rise to a stiff peak as he mimicked the action on your other breast, all the while as Spencer began thrusting into your cunt at a painfully slow pace.

"Come on, Sweetheart, don't you want to cum on his cock?"

"Fuck," Spencer grunted, feeling you clench around him. "Keep talking to her."

Aaron chuckled as he continued playing with your breasts. "It's torture, isn't it?" He closed his index finger and thumb around your nipples, pinching ever so gently. You let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes as arousal flushed through you. "Give us a name and we'll give you what you want."

And then you felt Spencer rocking his hips at a steady rhythm, burying himself deeper and deeper before he slowly began increasing his speed. Your body jerked wildly each time he pushed deep into you. Noticing this, his thumb moved to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. It felt too good, so good that you could no longer hold back from moaning out loud.

Your cries of pleasure snapped him into action and his hands moved down to your ass, holding you up to him as he started pounding harder into you. Your head fell back, chest heaving up and down, and that was when you felt Aaron closing his lips around one of your nipples. You writhed, your body thrashing underneath both men. Your senses reeling, the warmth of multiple hands on your skin sent jolts of electricity down your spine, igniting a wildfire of pleasure within you.

Aaron pulled away from you and your eyes flickered open at the loss, only to be met with Spencer hovering above you. Your eyes swept over him, and you looked down where you were joined, watching how his hips moved in constant thrusts. He was enjoying this, you could tell by the way his fingers burned your skin and the occasional grunt escaping his lips.

At the sound of his voice, you looked up at his face, glistening with a sheen of sweat while his messy hair tousling over it. The moment your gazes met each other, something inside you snapped. The muscles in your core began to coil, tightening and constricting around him right as your climax slowly pushed through the fog inside your head. Spencer felt it too, and he suddenly slowed his pace, throwing you a cunning smile.

You felt your resistance starting to crumble. The intensity of your pleasure grew almost unbearable, and you could no longer deny it. Your eyes welled with tears at the overwhelming sensation, and the thought of having your orgasm ripped again from you seemed like another torture you didn't want to endure.

You were going to regret this. You definitely would. But you couldn't dwell on the consequences of your actions when desperation coursed through you like a fever, an all-consuming hunger that you couldn't deny. Your body ached for release and craved it with an intensity that was maddening. 

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and then your eyes, wide and filled with desperation, pleaded with him silently as you found yourself finally giving in, muttering a name you had tried to keep to yourself. A name involved in the crime these men had been pestering you for. A name that had Aaron smirking devilishly as he leaned over to you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek in a caress that was so foreign.

"Good girl," he mumbled, his voice lacing with satisfaction at the way you finally crumbled. He was right, you were already in the palms of their hands, it was simply a matter of time until you caved in. "Good fucking girl."

Once you surrendered, you couldn't stop the whine falling through your lips. Your desperate moan rang deeply in the room, snapping something primal inside Spencer, and he trusted his hips into you roughly. A gasp escaped your lips, legs falling open wider as he split you wider than you already were.

Your mind went absolutely numb with pleasure as he kept rutting up inside you, your body becoming nothing more than a mess, overtaken by a wave of sweat and erotic bliss. You felt yourself trembling, your breathing becoming more ragged as his thrusts became sloppier.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, noticing the way your mouth fell open as pleasure engulfed you. "That's it, baby, let me fuck you dumb."

You cried out, babbling incoherent sentences as he thrust harder, grabbing your hips and tilting into you slightly, making him go even deeper as he moved with you.

"Go on, cum on my cock," he growled breathlessly through his rapid pounding. "Let me feel you."

“Fuck—” You cried out for him, your overstimulated body shaking beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure came rushing through your body, erupting in the most intense way. He watched the way you convulsed beneath him in your release, watching the way a white, sticky liquid circled his cock every time his skin brushed your inner walls. His thumb was unrelenting against your clit and you tried to angle your body away from his touch, the pleasure too intense as your lower half throbbed around him.

You continued to clench around him between your bliss, your legs trembling from the position as he arched his back, focusing the power of his thrusts straight into your tightness. A shiver burst through you at the sensation. And with one final thrust, his whole body tensed. He pushed forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, spreading his warmth in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips.

You were breathing hard, trying to regain your composure, and a moan left your lips when he finally pulled out. Cringing at the fluid slowly leaking out of you, you tried to close your legs only to be stopped as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading your legs apart to expose your body. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release.

“Look at the mess you made." Piercing eyes watched you as white liquid trickled down your ass. A feeble mewl left your lips as his thick fingers moved down to catch it, deliberately pressing against your folds as you wriggled in his grasp. A laugh left his lips as he dragged the string of wetness along your sex, pushing it back inside you.

"I think I ruined her."

Aaron's laughter filled the room, and just as you were about to push yourself off the table, you felt him grasping both of your hands, pushing them above your head. Your eyes widened in shock. "Wh-what are you doing?"

Then you felt it, the cool metal wrapped around your wrist, sinking into the flesh of your skin as you tried to move from his grip. An unexpected panic surged within you. "Sweetheart, we know you're involved in more than one crime." The soft click of the metal lock was loud in your ears. "You need to give us more names."

Your body, still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, now felt more exposed than ever. You looked up to find both men staring down at you, and at very moment, you realized, as you felt the handcuffs digging into your wrist, that you were going to be here for a very long time.

[danielnelsen]

trying to figure out the maximum number of allies you can have in the final battle. there are 30 possible allies and the max seems to be either 24 or 25:

you can have an ascended astarion or ulma, not both

you can have barcus or wulbren, not both

you can't have lorroakan (he's mutually exclusive with rolan, but helping him also means you don't get aylin or isobel)

you can have nine-fingers keene or the zhentarim, not both

you have to give shadowheart to viconia (they're mutually exclusive, but making shadowheart a dark justiciar locks you out of a bunch of other allies)

but the one im not sure about is whether you can have everyone else and bhaal. can you become bhaal's chosen without becoming an unholy assassin to get valeria?

[beyondthisdarkhouse]

Okay okay so. I have a theory about Anne and Wentworth's initial engagement about Persuasion, and it drives me very nearly feral. Especially when you tie it to later conversations she has with Benwick and Harville.

But it was not a merely selfish caution, under which she acted, in putting an end to it. Had she not imagined herself consulting his good, even more than her own, she could hardly have given him up. The belief of being prudent, and self-denying, principally for his advantage, was her chief consolation, under the misery of a parting, a final parting; and every consolation was required, for she had to encounter all the additional pain of opinions, on his side, totally unconvinced and unbending, and of his feeling himself ill used by so forced a relinquishment.

The special legal privilege a woman had in an engagement, which her fiance technically didn't, was the ability to back out.

(Yes, it was not without social consequences; and yes, if her fiance backed out, she'd have to actually publicly take him to court for breach of promise to receive compensation, which many girls (and more importantly, their families) were not eager to do.)

But imagine Lady Russell telling Anne: He's a sailor. If you stay engaged to him, the Admiralty could order him to sail to the end of the earth and map the coast of Antarctica if they wanted. He could be sent anywhere. He could be marooned, shipwrecked, deserted, made a prisoner of war, for years. Imagine him, in that distant situation, meeting some other woman and falling deeply in love with her. Wanting to marry her. And not being able to... because of you.

You would blight that happiness. You would chain him to an uncertain promise forever. You would drag him away from that new life, because of some silly, foolish, stupid decision you made when you were nineteen. If he still loves you, let him come back and say it then; but don't force him to come back if he doesn't.

(Given her family, she's probably very used to the sensation of being offered the outward forms of belonging and affection and knowing that she would be an idiot to hope for anything solid underneath.)

So then when she breaks the news to Frederick, the actual reason down at the core of it is, "You're probably going to forget about me and fall in love with someone else anyway, so we're just making it all easier on ourselves." Which he is wildly unimpressed by.