#his domain is so fucking cool????

[todorokies]

yuuta’s domain being “true and mutual love”…. someone needs to put his ass in a shoujo immediately

[littencloud9]

#JJK249 leaks are out. ITAFUSHI YOU MOVED ME

[the-furies]

💰 (ur very cool btw)

HMMMMMMB.

When we're bored up front and Inland also happens to be up front we just throw things through its head. Tbis does not bother it whatsoever like it doesn't hurt or anything and Inland doesn't feel anything so we've kinda made it a game 2 see how much random shit we can throw through inland's head/face... thing. Tbe biggest object successfully tossed through it so far has been Myself 😃👍❗ -Half Light

In unrelated news Either our headspace is falling apart or the innerworld view has shifted to HARRY'S headspace of all things bc 90% of the time it's just a black void. I mean we'll take that over the Cold Cave Full Of Fog that we've been having for the past.., month almost??? But. Screams. Girl dot com. I miss hte small cabin thingy we had like 2 months agoNFJDDJCJXJXJC Trant can teleport us back there if he focuses Rlly hard on it but he's not always uP FRONT like bitch (!!!) @ our brain WORK WITH US PLEASE stop changing the headspace so often!!!!!!!!! JDJDJDFJDKDKDJD

LIKE IT'S NOT A SERIOUS ISSUE it's just Annoying. -Electrochem

[cheesecakethots]

i love the idea of an obliviously op reader. like a reader who is just as (if not more) powerful than those at the top of the food chain, and yet has no idea about it.

you casually bump into gojo satoru on the street and- what the fuck? you passed through his infinity? huh?

while he’s stood there having a bit of a crisis you’re on your merry way to buy some snacks for yourself.

i’m specifically thinking about a reader like this in shibuya.

passing by mahito only to point and grin at him, “cool cosplay! i don’t recognise the character, but you look great!”

he giggles, placing a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to disfigure you, to turn you into some misshapen monster that’ll join the ranks of the others-

you blink at him, tilting your head a little, only to then place your hand on his shoulder too. you stare at each other for a moment.

“that was weird. see ya!” and then you leave him there oh-so-casually.

sukuna is in disbelief when he sees you- his domain should’ve wiped out everyone in the area? who the fuck are you?

and you just stroll up to him cheerfully, “man, i love your tats! where did you get them? i’m considering getting some, but-“

he lifts his palm, you should immediately burst into flames-

“high-five!”

and then you leave him to just stand there in confusion, continuing on your way.

it’s the fact that you cannot perceive the danger you are in that makes the world around you all the less dangerous.

[rubys-domain]

I'm upset

[cryptotheism]

The "potion-crafter" archetype of alchemist used in fantasy is often, like, an independent chemist that works off commission or sales to create fireball elixirs or exorcism salves. Is there a grain of truth, there? Did alchemists in any period you studied make a living by synthesizing magical items (like panaceas or DIY-chrysopoeia-kits or somesuch) and selling them on to any willing customer, or was that not really in their domain?

Ha! You know sometimes it can be a bit annoying answering asks like this, because most fantasy media isn t terribly interested in authentically representing history, BUT THIS TIME I can give y'all a specific and direct answer!

The archetype of the potion-crafter you're talking about almost definitely has its roots in an actual pre-paracelcian european medical profession; the Apothecary.

There were three types of doctors in the 1500s. There were diagnosticians, the people who went to school to learn about anatomy, and were allowed to call themselves "doctor." There were surgeons, the low-skilled workers who were in charge of hacking off limbs and draining bedpans. And there were apothecaries, basically the medieval equivalent of a pharmacist.

If you were a wealthy merchant, and you went to a doctor for your runny nose, he would look you over, and give you a prescription that you were supposed to take down to your local apothecary, so you could buy a potion from them.

But these prescriptions weren't exactly strict. A doctor might prescribe you an exact list of ingredients with the amounts, or he might just prescribe you "a healing ungent of cooling and drying herbs." So the apothecaries occasionally had some wiggle room based on supplies and expertise.

The important thing to remember, is that apothecaries were NOT considered magicians or alchemists.

That is, until Paracelsus came along.

See, good ol' Paracelsus was a radical innovator. He was one of the first physicians in history to be all three types of doctor at once. He was a diagnostician, a surgeon, and an apothecary. He argued that all doctors should have knowledge of their entire profession, and that no doctor was above suturing their patients wounds, and mixing their patients medicines.

He was also, crucially, an alchemist and a magician.

Alchemy was the cutting edge of technology for the time, a practice regarded with equal parts awe and suspicion, but it was more the realm of glassblowers and metallurgists than doctors or botanists. Paracelsus disagreed. He argued that if it's part of God's creation, it should be used to heal the human body.

This extended to magic. Paracelsus figured that you had to factor in things like "the movement of the planets and their influence on the earth." And he was known for prescribing patients things like "astral talismans to be worn about the neck." A practice that, even for his time, was often seen as backwards and superstitious. (Although given how harmful medieval medicine was, the astral talismans might have been your best option sometimes.)

Paracelsus was a radical. People fucking hated him, especially when he was alive. But his ideas were extremely influential, and exploded in popularity after his death in 1541. I can confidently say that the fantasy archetype of the Potion Brewer is based on Paracelcian physicians, the doctor/alchemist/apothecary/magicians who followed his theories.

Here I'll link my Patreon if y'all wanna support my research! I have a whole section on Paracelsus.

[complete-clownery]

Hahaha okay rant about this amazing fanfic (you probably heard of this one already but still)

So whenever it comes to explaining and writing under my posts I just get lazy but I need to push through this cuz I need to talk

So the fanarts were made for the lmk fanfiction sunbreak, that a lot of you (probably mostly shadowpeach shippers) had read, and it is amazing, I read trough it as fast as my brain let me and as you can see it has pleasantly scratched my brain so much so that I even (attempted) to make fanart for it

Ngl if I wasn't a major pussy I would try to illustrate the whole thing or make covers for each chapter but Im unable to work on something more than 2 hours and I would want those to look good, but good looking art (if I don't mess up) takes 6 hours ughh--- annoying much---

Anyways I'm not good with literature but man is this fix a masterpiece *chefs kiss* its everything its amazing, I was unable to put it down once I started it

Okay i dont think I have the brain capacity to explain how much I worship the writer of this masterpiece @ladygreenfrisbee , so i'm just going to talk about the drawings a tad

So first picture with Red Son and MK its sort of like an au in the fic where the whole lbd plot is somehow nonexistent and after Macaque gets to his sisters domain they settle down and raise the kids together without much of an issue aside from assassinations keep happening and trying not to get in trouble with the heavens

Id like to think that Gongzhu still wouldn't let the court tailors to put any form of red or gold on MKs outfits and only allowed the yellow after when MK was old enough to declare that yellow was his favorite color, but even now she would insist on some form of purple and shadow motives to let others know who the mother is

We also got baby MK and toddler Red Son and sassy LIF and Mac

Third pic with the lion: I don't know what it was or why but I just love general Song so much--- he's a major dickhead but sgvshshsevkdididhr (actually I kinda love all the original characters in this one, from the generals to the old lady in the beginning of the book, (gosh I also wanna draw some scenes from those chapters I loved how Mac and she interacted hshsjsj))

so chapter 34 was probably my favorite so far I re read it about two more times cuz it was amazing to see Macaque being the schemer he is and try to piss of Song lol

Last picture: its a sketch/a wip or whatever (probably not going to finish it but im still putting it there cuz its somewhat decent looking)

Its the part where Wukong remembered of Macaque finally finding him and asking for him to come back to flower fruit mountain.

I tried to make Macaque look more unhinged on this one but since I didn't finish it I dont think its that noticable so fuck that but I also gave him a halo like the saints to symbolise his suffering and what not (thought it looked cool and fitting think whatever you want about it lol)

And that all ((((hollly mother))))

If you read this trough, thank you and congrats👏👏

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Studio execs love plausible sentence generators because they have a workflow that looks exactly like a writer-exec dynamic, only without any eye-rolling at the stupid “notes” the exec gives the writer.

All an exec wants is to bark out “Hey, nerd, make me another E.T., except make the hero a dog, and set it on Mars.” After the writer faithfully produces this script, the exec can say, “OK, put put a love interest in the second act, and give me a big gunfight at the climax,” and the writer dutifully makes the changes.

This is exactly how prompting an LLM works.

A writer and a studio exec are lost in the desert, dying of thirst.

Just as they are about to perish, they come upon an oasis, with a cool sparkling pool of water.

The writer drops to their knees and thanks the fates for saving their lives.

But then, the studio exec unzips his pants, pulls out his cock and starts pissing in the water.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the writer demands.

“Don’t worry,” the exec says, “I’m making it better.”

- Everything Made By an AI Is In the Public Domain: The US Copyright Office offers creative workers a powerful labor protective

THIS IS THE LAST DAY FOR MY KICKSTARTER for the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and make a new, good internet to succeed the old, good internet. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

Going to Burning Man? Catch me on Tuesday at 2:40pm on the Center Camp Stage for a talk about enshittification and how to reverse it; on Wednesday at noon, I'm hosting Dr Patrick Ball at Liminal Labs (6:15/F) for a talk on using statistics to prove high-level culpability in the recruitment of child soldiers.

On September 6 at 7pm, I'll be hosting Naomi Klein at the LA Public Library for the launch of Doppelganger.

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: SHOKO feat THE BOYS (FINALE)

A/N: Well, well, well. Oh how the tables have turned, dear reader. It’s not so easy — juggling two special grades and their personal physician…is it?

S/N: This is it. The pièce de résistance. I was…this is…NO ONE LOOK AT ME AFTER YOU READ THIS. No idea the word count. Long af, though.

C/W:….the trio is their own content warning lol. Mature. 18+, MDNI.

Part I, Part II.

Is this…a dream? 

This must be what it feels like to hear Domain Expansion, Infinite Void.

White static coats Shoko’s brain. She’s breathing underwater. Thinking in molasses. 

It’s a miracle her legs are working — they’re currently trailing behind you and the boys, back to her apartment. 

Her eyes are working, too — they’re attached to the dress rippling and bouncing off your ass. Your hips are a hypnotic pendulum. Swinging back and forth. 

Back and forth. 

The tailwind from your strut is a bad actor. 

Every so often teasing your cotton panties that won the lottery. Kissing up against your pretty petals. Riding along the plump curve of your mounds. Accentuating the intoxicating swell of your hips.

It’s paralyzing. 

You are paralyzing. 

Satoru’s hand is curled around the back of your neck. His azure glow is so pristine, so bright it refracts off your gorgeous cheekbones. Dampening his Limitless and intensifying his Six Eyes. 

Because the first to taste a meal is usually one’s eyes…right?

Shoko can nearly hear the depravity ringing between Satoru’s ears. 

Then there’s Suguru.

An arm is draped around your waist, capturing and releasing the hem of your dress every few seconds. Mindless movements. His sniper-like gaze focused on the apartment door at the end of the hall. 

Cool. Calm. Collected. 

One would think, if you don’t know Suguru well enough. 

His normally, perfectly repressed cursed energy surrounds him. Flickering into the air like campfire embers just waiting for the next gust of wind to erupt. Amethyst and graphite swarm around her best friend — the only indicator of his disintegrating self-control. 

20 steps left until she is expected to produce door keys. The only thing standing between everyone and you. 

This is it.

This is the moment. The one chance you get at ‘doing it right this time.’ 

15 steps. 

There are no more wishes granted. No more genies stuffed into bottles, or whatever. This is it. 

10 steps.

Get your shit together, Ieiri.

7.

Do not squander this on the sidelines.

3.

Shoko wires around the three of you. Stepping ahead to slot the frivolous piece of aluminum standing between her and her wet dream. 

1.

The apartment door flies open. Satoru’s hand moves on autopilot — deepening his grip around your neck. 

His conscious brain recedes. Triple distilled, unadulterated need moves in like a tropical storm. 

Silky strands of your hair plaited in his fingers. 

Wide, warm eyes locked into his. 

Tiny slit in those pouty, siren lips of yours. 

He will dismantle you. Piece by fucking piece. 

Until you’re a babbling, sobbing brook beneath his fingers. Apologizing for being such a cocktease. 

“Satoru…?” 

There’s a change in your voice. 

Fear? Nerves? 

Prey finally realizing who is next on the menu?

Satoru is staring. Fully aware of how disarming his eyes can be. Born with godlike vision and somehow the only thing he can see in the room is you. 

His greed is a threat to National Security. DEFCON Level 1.

His mouth ghosts yours. Barely registering Suguru encasing you from behind. Trailing his palms along your thighs. 

“Safe word, princess.” Satoru maps every ridge, every teeth indent on that gorgeous bottom lip.

“For when you need to tap out.” Suguru augments Satoru’s command. Gentle nip at the tip of your ear and you moan. Bitten back and clipped. 

“Such pretty sounds,” Shoko’s voice is distant. Breathy. Coated in Cabernet. 

“I..don’t—” 

Satoru slices your protest in half. Rolling your bottom lip under his teeth. Biting and licking his way across your pout. At the same time Suguru drops his mouth to your pulse point. 

“Don’t what, sweetheart?” Suguru murmurs into your neck. A filthy fucking whine escapes your lips and Satoru’s fingers go to your nipple. 

Hard. Pert and neglected. Desperate for attention.

Just like you. 

The way you’re panting into Satoru’s mouth. Listless and loose, bending into Suguru’s presence behind you. 

“He gave you an order, baby.” Suguru’s smile is so tender. Almost torturous against your oversensitive skin. 

“Don’t…ah..don’t need a safe word.”

 A weak declaration against Satoru’s kiss. Earning yourself a sharp twist of your sensitive buds. And gifting him a kitten squeal that makes his cock twitch. 

“Ohhhh Suguru, Shoko.  We have a brat on our hands.” He muses, hovering his lips over yours. Satoru pets the steel rod between his legs. Already dewy with his arousal. 

You are so beautiful, trying to resist their coordinated touch. The sound of Suguru’s large hand palming your ass reverberates throughout the room. 

“I’ll teach her some manners.” 

Suguru’s voice trails down your spine. Slow and sickly sweet. Like maple sap dripping down tree bark mid spring. He caresses the hot sting from his spanking. 

“I—I have manners.” Voice as small as your frame engulfed between the 6’3 counterparts. 

“I won’t ask again, princess.” Satoru tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. And Suguru continues sucking kisses into your neck, marking his territory. 

“Uh..mmm..god, S—“ Your eyes flutter closed. An earnest attempt to stay present. And not settle into the fuzzy, warm submission they are baiting you into. 

“Safe word, now.” 

“B—um. Blue? Blue.” Your resolve is about as rigid as cotton. 

“Blue?”

“Well that’s not fair.” 

Shoko and Suguru’s incredulous reactions intertwine with Satoru’s smug chuckle. A dusty rose high on your cheeks. 

You know why you chose Blue. Everyone else does, too. 

“Blue, huh?” Satoru presses a soft kiss on your lips. 

“To match me? Noted, baby.” 

Shoko melts into her couch. Her heartbeat rattles around her skull. With short, ineffective breaths that taste like full bodied red wine. Wet heat surges around her lace thong. 

The way you’re writhing between her best friends’ hands is sinful. 

Gazing up at Satoru like he is Vincent Van Gogh and the Starry Night above you is the product of his paintbrush. 

Incoherent as if Suguru’s fingers put the Sun to bed. Whimpering his name like a prayer. 

Adorable, girl.

God isn’t going to save you here. 

The pads of Shoko’s cool fingers nearly sizzle against her puffy pleasure point. Slick coating her with just one, two, three long stripes against her sticky folds. 

“God...fuck..bring her to me.” The grit in Shoko’s tone scrapes along her voice box. Matching the aggressive pace of her fingers against her needy cunt. 

The boys lock gazes with their third. Cavalier smile tugging against Satoru’s lips. Suguru’s brow touches his hairline. 

Ladies, first. 

“You heard her.” Satoru snakes your arms around his neck and hoists you around his waist in one fluid motion. 

“S—sato—“ He bullies his tongue back into your mouth. No more protesting, gorgeous. 

Slow steps towards Shoko, so he can drink from your well. A sweet, delectable spell dripping from your lips. And if Satoru doesn’t wake up tomorrow morning after eating your forbidden fruit, then so be it. 

Suguru lets himself watch you from a short distance.

His hand can’t stop rubbing his cock. Shamelessly tugging his heavy rod. Burning your little expressions into his mind’s safe. The way your eyebrows come together at the center whenever Satoru bites your bottom lip. Your desperate grabs for air against his relentless kiss. 

“Hi, pretty.” Shoko drawls the moment Satoru settles you down on her lap. Her thigh digs into your soaked, gummy core. Glazing her skin with your drool. 

“Hi, Sho.” Still panting from Satoru’s embrace. So fragile. A harsh breeze could shatter you to stardust. And Shoko pulsates around nothing.

One hand is firm on your hip. The other tracing mindless shapes on your chest. Leaving a poetic cascade of goosebumps in her wake. 

Reflexively, you go to caress Shoko’s shoulders only to be caught by Satoru’s enormous grip. Whipping both of your wrists behind your back. While his other hand toys with the erection straining against his pants.

“She didn’t give you permission to touch, did she princess?” He drops his tone into the shell of your ear.  

“Oh, I—“

“Manners, gorgeous.” A gentle reminder in between smearing kisses along your neck. Shoko hooks her index finger along your neckline. One tug and your mouth-watering tits come into full view. 

“Fucking, hell.”

“God, baby.”

“Perfect…fucking perfect.” 

Satoru, Suguru and Shoko’s praises crash into one another. God took his time with you. Sculpting a fucking masterpiece. 

To be praised. 

To be worshipped. 

To be taken. 

Used. 

Filled. 

“Shoko. I want to hear her.” 

Suguru’s command is guttural. Fist snug around the base of his cock. Shameless about the tears of precum falling down his shaft. 

Shoko’s fingers work their way down to your pulsing clit. You preen into her touch. Pretty, tiny gasps against her cheek. 

“Let it out, baby.” Shoko coos into your ear. Thumbing little circles around your clit. 

You bury your face into her neck. Delicious ache swelling between your legs. Grinding along her slender thigh. Honey seeping around your clothed cunt. 

“S—sho, mmnngh..fuck..” Desperation fans Shoko’s neck. Bucking your hips with your hands restrained. 

“There she is.” 

Suguru’s fist slams to his hilt. Now close enough to cup your perky mound. Rippling and bouncing with every jolt. Feathering his finger over your pebbled bud. 

The sudden touch and velvet voice above you drags your gaze upward. 

And Suguru nearly cums in his hand right then and there. 

Misty eyes, drool covered lips. Breathy pants. Angelic features rewritten by lust. 

“Suguru?” 

“Such a good girl. Keep fucking her thigh like that, baby.” 

Throaty praise in return. Suguru rips his hand away from his angry length. Staving off his finish. 

Not yet. 

They’re not remotely close to being done with you yet.

“She’s so responsive.” Satoru chimes in. Releasing his grip on your wrists. 

Your hands fly to Shoko’s face. Melding your mouth with hers. Leaking precious sounds, from your lips and your sopping wet core. His hand kneads your neglected breast, pinching your nipple every so often. 

Satoru and Suguru palming at your tits. Shoko fucking your mouth with her tongue. You humping Shoko’s leg like a dog in heat.

It’s too much. 

Wave after wave of pleasure crashes into your groin. You nestle into the crook of her neck. Grasping at her thick, brunette locks. 

“S-sho, I’m close, I’m—mmgh..”

“It’s okay pretty,” Shoko husks. Her thumb at a perfect rhythm and pressure.

“You can cum, baby.” Suguru rasps, tugging at your nipple at the same time Satoru smacks the supple flesh he was petting.

“Oh fuck oh fuck—“

The delicious sting from their touches sends you over the edge. And the wire seated deep in your stomach snaps. Hips stuttering to an abrupt stop. 

The room stills. Satoru, Suguru and Shoko studying your micro movements through your peak. So quiet that the walls have to lean in to hear you and your lovers breathing. 

Six eyes laser into your body. Everyone’s appetite for you simultaneously tripling. 

Satoru swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Subconsciously aware of the pool of saliva forming. His manhood mirroring the trail of drool running down his mouth. 

He’s always been a fan of dessert. 

“I need to taste you.” 

“And I need a front row seat.” Shoko nibbles at your cheek.

Satoru lifts and spins you around on Shoko’s lap in a matter of seconds. You, still gummy and compliant from your orgasm spread your legs weakly over Shoko. Earning you a chorus of praise from your lust-drunk lovers. 

He drops to his knees. His blushing, weeping tip in hand. Pushing your sodden panties to the side. While Shoko cradles your thigh in her hand, holding you open for her best friend. 

Your rose blooms in front of him. Dewy with your slick. Candied scent holding all of Satoru’s senses hostage. 

“Look at how pretty, she is.” He breezes against your swollen pearl. Your petals quiver, and his dick leaks. 

“S—Satoru..please.” 

Satoru’s head is spinning. Entirely drunk off of the sight of you like this. Choking back his own pathetic groans.

His tongue licks a long stripe up your ripe folds. And your taste pollenates his mind for an eternity. An addict with his chosen vice. 

Your hands magnet to his snowy halo. The melody you sing from his kisses and licks could sink any ship. Echoing in Satoru’s and Shoko’s groin. 

Shoko is in a complete haze. Molesting herself numb at the way you undulate against Satoru’s eager tongue. Pitiful little mewls that are worthy of a platinum record.

“Feeling good, gorgeous?” Shoko eggs you on. Quickly sinking into her own threatened orgasm. 

“Y—yes..mmgh so..god..” Paper thin squeals from your lips. 

Crystals line your eyes in response to Satoru’s tongue fucking in and out of your pussy. Suckling your clit. Figures of 8, and 8 and 8 again until your mind is mush. 

Except Suguru refuses to let you get lost at Satoru’s sea. He grips a handful of your hair, whipping your head in his direction.

Both you and Shoko tilt up to see Suguru’s driveling manhood at your eye level. Veiny, heavy. So clearly abused by his hand. Volcanic eruption in his hooded gaze. 

“Hands on my cock, baby.” 

Barely above a whisper, but somehow your body recognizes his authority. 

And you seem genuinely shocked by your visceral obedience. Immediate acquiescence to Surguru’s will. 

An approving grin teases Suguru’s lips. Your hands are comically small wrapped around his length. 

God, he could split you in half. 

Heavy eyelids from Satoru’s agonizing touch, you’re mystical. Gazing into Suguru’s eyes like his soul is nothing but an appetizer. Yours to swallow, digest, play with. 

“Ask nicely.” Suguru grunts, as your eyes rake over his leaky cockhead. Longing for a taste. 

Satoru and Shoko come to a hush. Her fingers slow. Satoru forces himself off of your folds. Somehow knowing the next words to roll off your tongue will shift their brain chemistry, permanently. 

Palatial lashes fan your utterly fucked-out gaze. Swollen lips millimeters away from Suguru’s blunt tip. 

“May I suck your cock, please?” 

Filthy-nasty-dirty-fucking-vulgar noises fill the room, while you swirl Suguru’s cum covered head around your tongue.

“Fuck. Your lips baby.” He hisses, his hips piston into your pretty, accepting mouth. 

“So messy, princess.” Satoru murmurs into your swollen cunt, slipping his fingers past your tight ringlet.

Beautiful gurgles around Suguru’s shaft. Crystalline streams of spit glazing your puffy tits. 

You buck into Satoru at a similar, haphazard pace that he strokes his thick rod. Shoko sinks her teeth into your shoulder. 

“G-gonna c..gonna—“ high pitched, broken warnings spill from your lips. Just as a blinding wave of electricity surges down Shoko’s legs — curling her pedicure inward. 

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.” 

Suguru’s decadent baritone sends both you and Shoko over the hot edge. A cacophony of huffs and whines, coating the walls in your shared ecstasy. Spraying your essence all over Satoru’s face. 

He’s slow to stand. Savoring remnants of your peak. He and Suguru exchange sordid glances. Sharing the same thought.

Pretty little doll. 

Loose limbed and spent in Shoko’s lap. Hair mused. So deeply entrenched into sub space you’ll need to sleep it off of to come to your senses. 

A work of art, you are. 

But not quite broken, yet. 

“It’s our turn now, little one.” Deep and measured. Thick with want. Suguru lifts you by your arms off of Shoko’s lap. 

His back lays flush against the couch. You straddle his muscular lap. Satoru stands directly behind you. 

Suguru’s manhood is rigid. You’d have to impale yourself on him to get any closer. Similarly, Satoru’s length makes itself very present along the curve of your spine. 

“Look at me.” Satoru’s throaty demand comes from above your head. 

Obedience is the only language you can currently speak, so you tilt back. Soaking in the celestial boy behind you. Closer to God than Man, from this vantage point. 

“You want to taste yourself, baby?” 

A rhetorical question from Satoru, but you still bobble your head in an eager yes. 

“Such a desperate little puppy, aren’t you?” Suguru mocks you, taking one of your puffy nipples into his mouth. 

“She is.” 

Satoru affirms in between spearing your mouth with his warm muscle. Kissing the breath directly from your lungs until you’re air hungry and clawing at his neck. Leaving red streaks on his pale skin. 

Shoko has since poured herself another glass of red wine. Settling herself on the long arm of her couch. 

‘Far enough to drown into her own spiral. Close enough to register everything they do to you in the the most permanent part of her mind.’

Dèjá Vu.

But this lifetime? This reiteration of events? It’s fucking sublime. 

Shoko’s lips curl into a cheshire smile against the rim of her glass. Hedonistic on every single level known to man and she wouldn’t have it any another way. 

Her eyes flicker down to where Suguru’s hands are eclipsing your hips. And Satoru’s hands are cradled into the small of your waist. Hovering you over Suguru’s cock. The weapon of mass destruction that it is. 

“Suguru…Suguru it won’t…” Beautiful little panic ascending in pitch. 

“It won’t, what baby?” He teases. Eyes fixed on you like the apex predator he is. 

Crimson erupts from the tip of your nose to the tips of your ears. Fluttering away from his quicksand gaze. 

“What’s the matter, pretty? Don’t tell me you think you can’t handle—“

“I can handle it—I can…handle it.” You cut Satoru’s taunt down, convincing absolutely no one in the room— including yourself. 

But the shred of pride you have left comes forward. Bracing your hands on Suguru’s flexed shoulders. Digging little crescent moons into his olive skin. 

He can barely bite back the groan in his throat when your wet heat drags along his cockhead. 

Twitching around your opening. 

Feigning for entry. 

“Go ahead, little one.” 

“You can do it, baby.” 

“Oh FUCK..GOD.” Your volume is nothing in comparison to the fire incinerating your plush walls. Stretching your womanhood in a way that’s ungodly. 

Suguru is blinding. 

Flashing lights. Black spots in the visual field. Floaters everywhere kind of blinding. The prior encouragement from your lovers did nothing to soften his blow. 

Knowing this would be the result of you trying to work his inhuman length inside yourself, Suguru buries himself in one side of your neck. Satoru mirrors his action on the other side. 

Gentle adoration. Tender kisses. Light caresses to dull the pain. 

“Such a good girl.”

“I knew you could take it, princess.”

“You’re doing so well for me, pretty girl.”

Suguru rocks his hips in a slow, dreamy pace. Back and forth. Encouraging your body to reset around him. And the pressure. The delicious fucking fullness from his cock is mind numbing. 

“R—ready.” 

Barely loud enough to register. But Suguru could hear your red blood cells colliding with one another in your veins if you keep him next to you long enough. 

“Eyes on me when I’m inside you, sweetheart.” 

“Yes sir.”

The smile on his lips is no where near as tantalizing as the smile in his crushed velvet eyes. 

And for a moment that is going to be on cinematic repeat in everyone’s mind — Suguru thrusts into you like a man trying to repopulate earth. Never once letting you break his eye-contact. 

Melodic sounds of bodies smacking together ring throughout the room. Beautiful ripples of flesh, like soft waves during low tide. Your wet sex colliding with his. Him locking you into place because nothing else exists at this moment. 

Both Satoru and Shoko’s jaws are slack. Satoru can’t even bring himself to stroke his length thrashing wildly in his hands. 

This is hypnotizing. 

A motion picture worthy of an Oscar. 

You can feel Suguru recreating the shape of your soul. With each thrust. Deliberate. Deep. Ensuring that he will be a part of you, permanently. 

“God, ngh Su—fuck..purple..” unintelligible words, incoherent sounds.  You’re grasping at rescue from this pleasure. 

“Hah..” Suguru’s serrated breaths kiss your lips. “Try again.”

“Suguru, please. I’m cu—I’m pink..pink.”  

“Wrong color, princess.” Satoru’s husks above you. Tears of his thick cum streaming steady down his shaft. 

Suguru’s bucks into you relentlessly now. Chasing the high you both are riding. Shredding what consciousness you have left. Not that you wanted it, not that you needed it. 

“Fuck.” 

Suguru’s hips come to a screeching halt. Floating over Shoko’s cushion. Painting your warm walls with his seed. With you filling his lap with your dew. Delirious, choppy intakes of air between your lips and his. 

Momentarily forgetting your audience, you instinctively fall into his chest. Every single muscle in your body, suddenly without tone. 

Satoru’s mouth is ajar. 

Still not completely comprehending the fact that he just came — hands free — watching his best friend rail the conscious mind out of you. 

“Blanket, Satoru.” Shoko quietly nudges from her position on the couch. 

She can’t blame him for being stunned in place. Her mind is still reeling at the dessert her eyes just feasted on. 

“Come here, baby.” Suguru murmurs. Working himself out of you, while Satoru drapes you in Shoko’s throw. 

“Thank you.” A tiny chuckle escapes your lips. Cozying into Suguru’s arms. They should be proud of your manners. 

And as if you said your cheeky thought out loud, your three lovers break into soft laughter. 

“Wait here.” Satoru presses a chaste kiss to your damp forehead. Disappearing into Shoko’s bathroom a moment after. 

A small sigh of relief tumbles out of her when she hears the familiar sound of bath water running. 

Satoru must’ve done this before. Once or twice.

Suguru, too. 

Judging by the way he’s whispering sweet affirmations in your ear. Lulling you to sleep. In his warm, safe embrace. 

She’s never seen her friend like this. 

“Girls! Bath time!” Satoru beckons from the bathroom. 

His voice rustles you out of your post coital daze. Nestling deeper into the crook of Suguru’s neck. Shoko watches the way his eyes rest on your flushed face; stroking his hand along your arm. Intermittently pressing kisses along your hairline. 

An enchanting, glass doll they were so eager to shatter just a moment ago. 

“Ready, baby?” 

Suguru murmurs into your ear. And Shoko just knows he’s hoping for a no. Silently praying for more time with you, pliant in his arms like this.

“Mmhm.” Your puffy lips curl up into a sleepy smile. Glossy-eyed, when you finally pull your heavy lids open. 

Suguru’s breath catches in his throat. 

Shoko’s heart rattles around its bony cage.

How do you do this?  

How do you make it so easy to trip and fall so hopelessly in love with you with a bat of an eyelash? 

“…I get it guys, but the water will get cold. And that would be a shame. Because this bath is, perfect.”  

Satoru teases from the bedroom doorway. Startling Shoko and Suguru out of the trance you unintentionally put them in. 

“You don’t have to carry me!” A half-protest bubbles from your lips when Suguru stands with you wrapped up in Shoko’s favorite blanket.

“Shhh, let me do this sweet girl.” He coos, for your ears only. Navigating around Satoru’s lean stature. 

Shoko follows closely behind him, itching for her alone time with you. 

“You’re going to let her feet touch the ground, Suguru?!” 

Her sarcasm is followed by light-hearted laughter settling around your bodies. 

The four of you in tandem like a world class orchestra. Shoko is already lamenting waking up from this dream. 

“Not if I can help it.” Suguru sets you down on the kitchen sink. Nudging enough space for his muscular hips between your legs. 

He cradles your chin in his hand. Taking as many butterfly kisses as you’ll allow.

“Mmm, goodnight, Suguru.”

His name rolls sweet and soft off of your tongue. Like a dark chocolate truffle, and suddenly Shoko wishes her name was Suguru. 

Satoru does too. Judging by the way he yanks his counterpart away from you. His eyes caress your face before his hand does.

“How are you feeling, princess?” 

Hushed and saccharine. Doting. As if a decibel too loud is akin to Hollow Purple. Circling his fingers around your thighs. 

How foreign. 

Shoko can almost taste Satoru’s concern. Attentive in a way that’s inconceivable. 

From her vantage point, she watches you ensnare Satoru in those big, helpless doe eyes. Tempting him to fuck the living daylight out of you (again) but also handle you like a butterfly with a broken wing. 

“Just a bit worn out, pretty boy.” Said with a dreamy little laugh. And Satoru would chase your voice into the clouds if he could. 

He drapes your arms around his neck and you’re putty in his hands. 

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He grazes the corner of your lips with his. A dull, insistent ache welling between Shoko’s legs. 

You’re irresistible like this. 

“Unless you want us to wear you out, again.” 

“Satoru!” Your tiny, ineffectual fists slam against Satoru’s pecs. Making the trio even more fond of you. 

Their muse.

“Alright boys, I can take it from here.” 

Unhurried but finite, Shoko shoos her best friends out of the bathroom. Not before Satoru can steal one last kiss from your swollen lips.  

In a matter of minutes Shoko is settled in a sea of warm, eucalyptus bubbles. The light sheen of essential oil grazing her skin, still glimmering with remnants of love-making. 

Her eyes ride the dips and swells of your alluring lines. 

Balmy skin decorated with lust-drunk imprints from Satoru, Suguru and herself. Hand prints. Tiny crescent moons from fingernails. Ellipses of bite marks. A kaleidoscope of red, blue, deep purple. Living, breathing residue of the desperation — the need — you so easily draw from them. 

“Such a pretty girl.” 

You flush under Shoko’s praise. Newly stroked desire bubbling in the back of her throat. You’re so full of averted gazes and warmed cheeks. Twiddling your thumbs. Tentatively shifting a few paces away from the bathtub. 

So shy, now. It’s adorable. 

“Come here, baby.” Shoko curls her fingers inward.

“Okay.” Your response high and thin. Feet moving without resistance. 

Obedient little doll. 

Shoko’s wet dreams couldn’t even come up with a vision this decadent. You’re an oil painting. Soft on the hands, even softer on the eyes. 

You nestle in the warm waters between Shokos legs. Her nipples pebble against your supple flesh. Resting the back of your head on her chest. A lock-in-key fit. 

Comfortable, serene quiet sheaths the room around you. And Shoko is soaring. 

“I like you like this.” She presses a small kiss against your temple. 

“Like what?” You whisper.

Shoko’s hands travel up your navel, cupping your sensitive tits. You arch into her touch. Kitten mewls escape you. So responsive. 

“Soft.” Your nipples stiffen between her thumb and index finger. 

“Vulnerable…a little broken.” Shoko continues. Catching your needy gaze. Pupils blown to full moons. She hovers her lips over yours. Already parted, hanging open. Ready to receive. 

“Shoko.” 

Such a beautiful, pitiful little whine. Tilting your chin up, chasing Shoko’s lips. But she maintains the minimal distance. Instead, kneading your mounds. Drawing a gorgeous melody of whimpers; squirming beneath her ministrations. 

“I like being the one to put your pieces back together,” Shoko teases, dropping her tone. And you draw her in like a moth to flame. 

Shoko’s lips slot into yours with ease. Puzzle pieces meant to fit. She swipes her tongue over yours. Nibbles along your puffy bottom lip.

You’re delicious. 

And panting, when Shoko finally pulls away. Aurora borealis in your eyes. Sparkling. Expansive. 

And even though you are putty in her hands right now. Docile and pliant, hanging on every brush of a finger, every kiss. Shoko is falling.

Free falling.

Without a safety stop in sight. 

[swordinhand]

i got so deeply enraptured with trying to figure out which restaurant jobs the dunmeshi cast would have that i forgot to check the speed on the industrial strength floor mixer i was using at MY kitchen job and sprayed mayo everywhere. anyways.

senshi would be the senior sous chef that everyone likes and respects way more than the actual chef. he does menu planning and uses cool local ingredients that put the restaurant on the food scene map. the boss you wish you had. laios is a dishwasher but he REALLY REALLY wants to learn line so he spends a lot of time asking the cooks questions. comes in on his day off to watch senshi do menu planning. friends with all the waitresses even though they think he's kinda weird b/c he's too busy being a freak to back of house crew to bother them. chilchuck is the prep lead. he's the best at precision so his consistency is through the roof and his knife work is perfect. the prep hall is his domain and he's got all these janky ways of making it accessible bc the kitchen wasn't built for halflings. champion of worker's rights and makes sure all the first aid stuff is properly organized.

marcille is the front of house manager who's been working there since she was a teenager. sometimes shitty customers will underestimate her and try to fuck with the waitstaff but she takes no nonsense whatsoever. new hires will think she's got beef with the cooks but their banter is just next level. bffs with senshi. (edit: she's in magic school but also has a fuckass minor in management so she's perpetually trying to bring in her course theories while everyone rolls their eyes and carries on). falin i think works mostly with senshi to procure the uncommon ingredients he wants to use. she's also trained as a bartender so she'll step in occasionally but most of the time she's off talking to suppliers or tending the herb gardens out back.

the mad sorcerer is the head chef and he only works opening shift so no one ever sees him and cannot for the life of them tell what he contributes to the kitchen.

the restaurant is called the dungeon.

[early20sfailingplenty]

Lowkey, I want to see Vincent go insane because his s/o got hurt by a tourist. It’s just something about scary men who get pissed that their partner gets hurt and stops at nothing but get revenge is so 🥰🥰

I love the thought of this!

TW; canon-typical violence, discussion of canon events, dehumanisation of Dalton and Wade (canon-compliant), Bo pukes (unrelated to canon events - I'm not that strong lmfao)

I've always thought that Dalton and Wade got especially brutal deaths because of one simple fact: they messed around in Vincent's House of Wax. It's his domain, it's clear as crystal; it's his hunting ground, it's where he prepares and then displays the best of his trophies.

The House of Wax is his; Wade feigning to burn one of the sculptures was a genuinely asshole move (seriously, who the fuck sees someone else's hard work and starts melting it? Fucking ass) and earned him a place in the House of Wax; he mocked Vincent's work, so Vincent turned him into the very thing as a petty revenge.

Dalton, for his part, destroyed Vincent's latest project, tore the face off of his still cooling artwork and I don't know about you, but if I spend hours making something and then someone deliberately started messing with it, I'd be more than slightly murderous too.

(Though, in Dalton's defence, if I looked up and saw Vincent looming over me like that, I'd lose my head and squirt all over the floor too - I get it, dude).

All this to say... Vincent went apeshit on these two kids because they messed around in his domain. He's possessive, obsessive, deeply passionate and always in control of what he's doing. When Vincent puts his mind to something, he is ruthless and there's absolutely no stopping him.

So now imagine what he'd do, the acts of sheer depravity he'd perform, if his beloved got harmed? He'd be so vicious, so genuinely unhinged, that when Bo later sees what happened to the people he sent Vincent's way, the remains of the bodies would have him stomping outside to throw up in Lester's rose bushes, and even Lester would have to literally scrape them up off the floor with whatever gardening implement he can find. A shovel, maybe. A bucket of water to sluice them away would also work.

There's roadkill, there's roadkill, and then there's... whatever the fuck Vincent did to these people.

There's blood dripping off his twin blades, his overalls are caked in it, he's squelching somewhat in his worn boots as he walks, there's viscera splattered across the wax floor, and somehow there's blood on the ceiling... you know not to ask. But Bo's an interesting shade of porcelain you've never seen before, and even Lester can hardly bear to look.

And you? You're off to the side nursing your injury; nothing life-threatening, and later on you'll be joking with Bo, "'tis but a scratch", but Vincent's reaction has you feeling more than a little loved. Safe, protected, cherished, by the most relentless and brutal of the three Sinclair brothers.

[silentmoths]

Quick-Relief

slides in like I havent not written anything for *squints* several fucking months.

the 'morax horny stick' decided to bonk me out of the blue today and so this was born, its quick, its dirty, take it or leave it, heathens.

Morax x Adeptus! Reader (fem anatomy)

NSFW

Smut, Semi public, mentions of war, Morax is a lil on the rougher side, honestly this is just Porn without Plot.

How long had you been in the field now? Two months? Three? You’d honestly lost count. 

There was real keeping of time during the archon war, at least not for you; you were an adeptus, here to fight for your archon, Morax.

And yet, you can't help but miss the times… before.

When you would wander the halls of his domain, only for a strong, darkened arm to reach out from his study or his chambers, catching your waist, your sleeve, the sash of your hafu, and dragging you in. 

You were…unsure what you were exactly to Morax, a lover maybe? Or perhaps simple stress relief? You did not know, and you did not dare to ask. In the end you were one of his Adepti, and you would fight, serve or fall into his embrace, as he commanded.

Rain pelts against your skin as you slowly trudge up the mountain path towards the nearest encampment, carrying an injured comrade with you. Somewhere in the distance, you see Alatus flit past and you wonder just how he manages to maintain such energy, you don't think you’d seen the general stop for a breather the entire time, at least not until he was somewhat gravely injured…and even then he would only rest as little as he had to.

You pass your comrade off to a more capable healer than yourself before going off in search of food. A bath probably should have been first on the agenda but you just…didn’t have the energy in you for it yet, food first, then bath…and maybe if you were lucky, some sleep.

Yeah things don’t go the way you planned. When do they ever?

As you shovel away a quick meal of rice and vegetables, you cant help but feel eyes on you, but between being too tired to look around, and knowing everyone else sitting around you were just as busy shovelling food into your faces, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. That same feeling lingers as you shamble towards a bathing spring, no time to soak, if you wanted a chance at getting some sleep before you were called to action again, you needed to scrub and go, which is exactly what you do. Violently scrubbed clean of dirt, debris and blood, as much as you want to remain, you force yourself from the warm waters, quickly drying off before making for a tent, you didn't care who was in there, you just wanted somewhere sheltered to rest your head.

A hand, warm, familiar and strong, rests upon your shoulder, but in your tired stupor, you swing, intending on hitting away whomever had approached so quietly until your wrist is grabbed.

You knew the glow of these hands anywhere, the geo resonating softly through his veins, and you look up to be met with smouldering amber.

“Morax…” you whisper.

He’s caught somewhere between dragon and man, he has the human visage you are used to, the one he used most often to interact with mortals, but his horns and tail were also visible; his horns glowing a faint golden in the low light of the chilly mountainside. 

You feel his grip tighten on you, his pupils restricting into slits for a mere moment before blowing wide and you can feel the anticipation beginning to run up your spine. Yeah you weren't sleeping tonight.

A beat passes between you both before he turns, tugging you along, out of sight of anyone, out of the encampment entirely, and all you can do is stumble along as his massive hand grips your wrist. He walks these mountains like a flat road, he knew them better than the back of his own hand, his strides are wide, and quick as he leads you further from camp, down a slippery cliff and before you know it, into a cave, only to be pressed against the cool stone wall as he practically hikes you up it, your legs coming to rest around his waist as he holds you there effortlessly.

“My lord-” 

“Shut up.” Morax all but growls back before his lips crash into yours, long, serpentine tongue invading your mouth in a very quickly lost battle of dominance. His hands claw at your robe, tugging the offending garment apart so he can get at your naked body with ease, your own arms moving to wrap around his neck.

gods, you hadn’t realised just how much you needed this.

The longer you spend pressed between your archon’s warm flesh, and the cold stone of the wall, the more the churning arousal in your gut becomes apparent. You’d been fighting for so long you’d absolutely disregarded your body and it’s signals, and judging by how rough Morax was being, one hand gripping your hip tight enough to leave bruises whilst the other shoves his own pants down to his knees, he must have been feeling the same.

“My lord-” you try again, your own hands shifting up to his horns, grabbing hold to at least try and pull him away for a moment so you can breathe.”Take a moment-” “No.” He growls, one hand gripping your hips as a pair of fingers push inside your already embarrassingly wet cunt. “The moment I saw you walk into camp, I couldn’t withhold anymore.” he rumbles, smirking dangerously as he watches your face twist with a mix of pleasure and pain as he splays those long, devilish fingers, after so long, you’re glad he at least had the forwithall to stretch you and take some of the inevitable sting off.

“Your body has toned up some more.” He muses as he continues the rough thrust of his fingers, his own body weight keeping you pressed against the wall as his free hand roams the expanse of your body revealed beneath the robe “and yet, despite all the fighting, your skin still feels like silk.” You can feel your cheeks heating at his surprisingly tender words; there was no small amount of pent up lust edging his tone, and yet he still found time to leave a compliment as his lips descend upon your neck, biting and suckling, leaving a small trail of blooming bruises from your jaw to your collarbone, all while he revels in the breathy gasps and muffled moans he draws from your lips.

That same tenderness doesn’t last long though; the moment he begins to feel you clench around his fingers, hear the way your voice pitches higher, he knew you were close, and instead of simply letting you come, he pulls his fingers out and you whine at him, looking to his face desperately, only to be met with a dark smirk before he quickly, harshly shoves his cock into you, burying all the way to the hilt in one single, harsh thrust that has you screaming, the sudden intrusion enough to send you over that edge as you orgasm around him.

“That's it.” he rumbles at you, his voice caught somewhere between a growl and a purr as his draconic tail lashes behind him, he doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath, his hips setting a brutal pace that has any breath you manage to catch leaving your body just as quickly as you moan into his shoulder. You feel it, every ridge of his inhuman cock, rutting inside of you, a dull aching pain mixed with pure, overwhelming pleasure as Morax growls into your throat, his teeth pressing against your skin, but not quite biting down.

His hands grab your waist, shifting your legs until they’re locked around his hips, just so he can get a better grip on you and take a step back, pulling you from the wall so he can all but bounce you on his cock like you were nothing more than a toy for him. He watches as your eyes roll back, and feels your hands, clinging desperately around his shoulders, one of your fingers finally catching in his hair tie and yanking, you did so love seeing his silky hair free and cascading down his back and shoulders.

Usually, before the war, when he’d pull you in for a night of intimacy, it was a slow affair; he liked to take his time, methodical in every one of his actions. 

That was not the case today.

This was a man pent up, stressed, pulled to the very limits and in desperate need of release, and he knew that just as well as you did. His pace was brutal, ruthless, and you cry for it because you needed this just as much as him, something to take your mind off of all the fighting, all the death and destruction, a moment to feel… mortal.

You only vaguely remember the moment he cums inside you, it’s hot, searingly so and it shoves you right off the edge into your second orgasm as your world turns white, a stark contrast to the drizzly grey day.

You wake, the next morning in a tent, re-clothed, rugged up amongst blankets and pillows, your muscles ached, but when had they not lately? Just some…new kinds of ache that made you realise last night had definitely not been a dream.

As if the impressive amount of hickeys you now had to find a way to hide weren't proof enough of your quick foray with the geo archon himself.

You just hoped the de-stressing had helped clear his head a little, after all, you were there to serve him.

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

[shanastoryteller]

happy pride! god zagreus, please?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

It's not that difficult to find the bright, blazing light of Zagreus above the surface and pull himself there. He didn't even go very far - he's still on the same mountain as the entrance to the underworld.

Except when he appears, it's nothing like the mountaintop he remembers. All his angry words die on his tongue, replaced with a tentative sort of wonder.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Zagreus asks, beaming as he gestures to the lush forest and garden, full of plants and fruit that he's never seen before, in colors that shouldn't exist.

It's wild, but cultivated. They're in front of a fountain and there's a cobblestone path winding deeper into the forest, and even a hammock and a fishing pole near the pond, which is the part that he focuses on because it's the part that's connected to the Zagreus that he knows. He can easily imagine him lounging in that hammock for hours, pole held in a lazy grip that flicks back whenever he feels a bite.

"Prince?"

He turns and there is a woman coming up the path. She's beautiful, for a mortal, and just as lush as the greenery surrounding them. Zagreus's power is all around them, but she glows with it, giving her a subtle golden aura that any immortal could pick up on.

"Eliana," Zagreus says warmly. "Your father is taken care of. He was bragging about you to Sisyphus when I left."

She smiles, and it's tinged with sadness, but she says, "Thank you. You're all he talked about at the end. He was so excited to meet you."

He ducks his head. "Well, I hope I lived up to his expectations."

Zagreus had said that he wasn't married, but what else can this mortal be, who is cloaked in his power and speaks to him so casually? Thanatos's stomach flips then fills with acid.

"You never disappoint," she reassures, voice warm and fond and familiar. She flickers her eyes in his direction and raises an eyebrow.

"Ah," Zagreus's grin widens. "There's someone I want you to meet. This is Thanatos, the god of death, and, more importantly, he is my oldest and dearest friend."

She bows to him deeply, although she does not fully prostrate herself, which he feels uncharacteristically miffed about.

"Thanatos, this is Eliana. She is my high priestess. She oversees my the building of my temples and my orchards and is charged with discharging blessings in my name."

Ah.

No wonder she had not gotten to her knees before him. That level of devotion is reserved only for the god who's power she wields.

"You're a god," he says, staring at Zagreus, trying to reconcile everything he thought he knew with what's in front of him.

He smiles, teasing. "I've always been a god."

Yes and no.

He was always a god, but one without a domain. One without temples or worshippers or tributes. Even Thanatos doesn't have temples in his name.

"What are you the god of?" he asks, trying to ignore the tightness in his throat.

Eliana answers, "Our Prince is the god of life and the god of blood. Only he can provide shelter against the endless winter."

Thanatos blinks, because out of everything he's been told, this is the most unbelievable. "You - you're trying to stand against Demeter?"

"I have been standing against Demeter," he says, that familiar arrogance in every line of his body. "Who besides me? I am the son of the Lord of the Underworld and the Goddess of Spring. I will stave off death and call forth spring, for I am the god of life."

Fuck.

Thanatos misses a couple minutes ago when he thought they just had a civil war to deal with.

[pitviperofdoom]

Team Kill-Dracula as a DnD Party

Van Helsing: Cleric, Grave Domain. Probably the easiest choice. As a doctor he’s the party’s principal healer, he’s the one who keeps whipping out holy symbols and prayers, and he has all the know-how on identifying and dealing with all things Undead. Also Van Helsing using Path to the Grave would be incredibly badass.

Arthur Holmwood: Ranger, Beast Master Conclave. This one’s a gimme. We already know he hunts regularly, it’s the pastime of choice for rich lordly types, and he spent one notable scene summoning and skillfully handling some dogs.

Quincey Morris: Fighter, Cavalier Archetype. I definitely knew he was the party’s fighter, but it wasn’t until I did some digging that I found out there was a fighter type with an emphasis on mounted combat. My man is a COWBOY. Admittedly Matt Mercer’s Gunslinger homebrew is also tempting, but since it has more emphasis on tinkering, I thought the Cavalier perks would fit Quincey a little more.

John Seward: Cleric, Mind Domain. This man gave me SO MUCH TROUBLE because everybody else slotted so neatly into their classes and I could not for the life of me figure out what fit him. I finally landed on cleric since he’s the second doctor in the party, and when I did a little more googling I found out that mind clerics were a thing, which is both incredibly cool and fitting for the guy who has given me psychic damage multiple times.

Jonathan Harker: Barbarian, Path of the Berserker. He’s just. He angy. When he swung a machete at Dracula and stole his lunch money I was like “Yeah that was a Reckless Attack. He definitely had advantage on that.” Once his wife got the chomp all bets were off. He Would Like To Rage.

Mina Harker: Bard, College of Eloquence. I debated between this and College of Lore, but I landed on eloquence because this woman’s charisma is high as fuck, she grants inspiration every time she opens her mouth, and she seems to know exactly what to say to whoever she talks to, from her husband to Lucy’s suitor squad to Renfield. Let’s be real, she united the whole group single-handed and probably would have charmed her way into being the face of the party if Van Helsing’s paternalistic Victorian sensibilities hadn’t kicked in. Unfortunately she also has one level in warlock with an undead patron she doesn’t want, but on the bright side she can cast Eldritch Blast now.

[zapreportsblog]

❝lemme spoil you babygirl❞

✭ pairing : earth 42 miles morales x reader

✭ fandom : spiderman into the spiderverse

✭ summary : miles enjoys spoiling his girl with anything her heart desires, and whiles she may not always voice what she wants he can tell simply by her eyes. After all the eyes are the window to the soul right?

✭ authors note : don’t take offense to half the shit I said in this, I’m Black and half Asian on my grandfathers side. This is written in good fun if you can’t take a joke kindly fuck off :)

✭ spiderman into the spiderverse masterlist

The streets of Brooklyn buzzed with life as Miles swung effortlessly between the towering skyscrapers, and buildings. The city was his playground, his domain, and he couldn't have asked for a more thrilling existence.

But amidst the whirlwind of his double life as both a high school student and the enigmatic Prowler, there was one constant that grounded him, that gave him a reason to fight the good fight every day – you.

(Y/N) had been in his life for as long as he could remember, but it was only recently that they had taken their friendship to the next level. The two of you were inseparable, and Miles couldn't help but fall head over heels in love with you.

As the Prowler, he had the means to spoil you, and he did so with a actual genuine smile on his face. He didn't ask for much in return, only your radiant smile and the joy that being with you brought into his life.

One evening, Miles and you found yourselves on a quiet rooftop, away from the chaos of the city below. The night air was cool, and the stars twinkled above, as if they were celebrating your presence.

Miles wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. "You know, I'd give you the moon if I could."

You chuckled, leaning into his warmth. "I'm happy with just you, Miles."

His uncle Aaron, who had become something of a mentor to Miles, had been watching from the shadows. He couldn't help but grin at the scene before him. He stepped out, causing both you and Miles to turn your heads in surprise.

"You treat that girl like she's your world, Miles," Aaron said with a teasing glint in his eye.

Miles laughed, his voice full of affection. "I got to, Uncle Aaron. Otherwise, some small-time punk's gonna come around thinking he can take what's mine."

Aaron chuckled, clapping Miles on the back. "You've got that right, nephew. But you know, it's good to see you happy."

Miles and Aaron shared a genuine laugh, the bond between them stronger than ever. The Prowler had a reputation to uphold, but he also had a heart that beat for the people he loved, especially for you, (Y/N).

As the night continued, you, Miles, and Miles uncle Aaron sat on that rooftop, sharing stories, laughter, and a love that could withstand even the most challenging of circumstances. In the heart of the city that never sleeps, this was a night to remember – a night that reminded Miles why he swung through the city, risking his life as the Prowler, because he had something worth fighting for, something worth protecting. And that something was you, his world.

It was another day, which meant another day of spoiling his girl. (Y/N) strolled through the bustling mall, her fingers interlaced with Miles'. The afternoon sun filtered through the large glass windows, casting a warm glow over the shoppers. Miles carried an array of designer shopping bags, each filled with luxurious items that he had picked out for her.

"You know you don't gotta buy me all these things, baby," (Y/N) said with a soft smile as she looked at the bags bearing the names Chanel and Balenciaga.

Miles grinned down at her, his eyes filled with affection. "I know, baby girl, but seeing your eyes light up when I get your pretty ass a gift just makes my day."

(Y/N) couldn't help but blush at his words. "That's so corny," she teased, though her heart swelled with warmth.

Miles chuckled, his deep voice resonating in the bustling mall. "Well, it's true, baby girl. Now, give a kiss."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully but leaned in and planted a sweet peck on his cheek. It was moments like these that made her realize how lucky she was to have Miles in her life.

“Naw baby girl, give daddy a real kiss.”

With a roll of your eyes again, you leaned forward and gave miles an another kiss on his check this time just inches away from his luscious plump lips.

Miles wasn’t having that though and pulled you forward once more by your throat, his grip firm but still gentle enough to not hurt you. Your lips met, and for a moment, the bustling mall around you faded into oblivion. It was just the two of you, lost in each other's affection.

As he pulled away, a mischievous glint in his eyes, he whispered, "Don't go rolling those eyes at me, babygirl, otherwise, I'll give you a reason to be rolling them."

You chuckled, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your lips. "You're impossible, Miles Morales."

He grinned, his love for you written all over his face as he continued to carry your shopping bags. "And you love me for it."

Hand in hand, you both continued your leisurely stroll through the mall, knowing that your love was the most precious gift of all, and the fancy bags filled with designer items were just a sweet bonus.

“Hurry your pretty ass up I wanna take you to get your nails done, it’ll go pretty with your next gifts.”

Miles and (Y/N) entered the nail salon nestled within the mall, the serene atmosphere a welcome contrast to the bustling shopping floors. Miles guided her to one of the plush salon chairs, and she settled in, eyeing the array of nail polish colors displayed before her.

"Go crazy, baby girl," Miles urged with a playful grin. His eyes danced with anticipation.

(Y/N) bit her lip, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Don't you think you've spent enough today?" she asked, her gaze shifting to the designer bags still in his grasp.

Miles leaned in closer, his voice low and filled with affection. "For you? Never."

With that, he called over one of the salon workers, who approached them with a warm smile. Miles wasted no time. "Give her the whole spa treatment. I'm talking massages, a full set on both her nails and feet, and include that gel set you ling lings always be trying to sell your clients. Touch up the brows, and if she wants, wax her, too. I want her pampered and happy by the end of her session."

(Y/N) looked at Miles with wide eyes, a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "Miles, stop it, that's too much and definitely rude," she protested, her cheeks flushing.

Miles waved her off, his eyes filled with adoration. "It’s true though! And nonsense, baby. You deserve it all. Now, enjoy yourself."

The salon worker nodded though offended at the long long comment they ain’t take it too personal, they’ve been called worse, and with one final nod they began to prepare for what promised to be a luxurious pampering session for (Y/N) or in their eyes the dark skinned fellow sugar baby. As she settled into the chair, her heart swelled with appreciation for Miles and the love he showered upon her. She couldn't help but smile as she realized just how lucky she was to have him in her life.

(Y/N) and Miles left the nail salon with her feeling like a queen after her pampering session. She couldn't stop admiring her perfectly manicured and xl full set of nails and her silky smooth skin. Miles had a way of making every moment special, and today was no exception.

As they strolled through the mall, they made their way to Footlocker, a store that always got Miles excited. He was a sneakerhead, and (Y/N) knew he couldn't resist the lure of fresh kicks.

Inside the store, the scent of new sneakers and the sight of rows upon rows of colorful shoeboxes greeted them. Miles was like a kid in a candy store, and (Y/N) couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm.

"Baby, what are you feeling today?" Miles asked as they browsed the selection of sneakers.

(Y/N) considered the options and then spotted a pair of sleek white Nikes that caught her eye. "I think these would look great," she said, holding them up for Miles to see.

Miles nodded in agreement, a smile spreading across his face. "Good choice, baby girl. Let's grab those."

They each picked out a pair of matching Nikes, and then Miles, with his discerning eye for style, spotted a pair of limited edition Jordans on display. He knew he had to have them.

"Check these out," Miles said, beckoning (Y/N) over to admire the Jordans.

(Y/N) couldn't deny that they were impressive. "Those are fire," she admitted.

Miles decided without hesitation. "We're getting them."

After some time spent trying on shoes, making their selections, and chatting with the friendly staff, (Y/N) and Miles left Footlocker with matching Nikes and the limited edition Jordans in hand. The excitement of getting new kicks and the shared experience of picking them out together added to the bond they shared.

As they walked hand in hand through the mall once again, Miles couldn't help but glance at (Y/N) with a loving smile. Every moment spent with her was a cherished memory, and he was grateful for the happiness she brought into his life.

“Now onto your final surprise before I take your pretty ass to get some food.”

Miles and (Y/N) ventured further into the mall, their bags all held in the strong hands of miles morales. The next stop on their shopping adventure was Pandora, a store known for its elegant jewelry. Miles had a mischievous glint in his eye as he led her inside.

Once they were surrounded by displays of intricate bracelets and shimmering charms, Miles gently took (Y/N)'s hand. "How about a little something special from Pandora?" he suggested with a warm smile.

(Y/N) was both surprised and delighted by the idea. She nodded eagerly, her curiosity piqued. "Fine, let's see what they have. But I’m only agreeing because i know you’ll drag my ass in here anyways.”

Miles guided her to the charm bangle bracelets section. Each bracelet had a unique design, and the charms ranged from adorable animals to elegant gemstones. He handed her a bangle bracelet adorned with a star charm and said, "For our shared love of Star Wars."

(Y/N) grinned as she accepted the bracelet. "I love it."

Miles then picked out a few more charms, each with its own meaning and significance to their relationship. He selected a heart charm, a symbol of their love, a travel-themed charm for their shared adventures, and a pair of intertwined rings as a symbol of their commitment to one another.

With each addition, (Y/N) was touched by Miles' thoughtfulness. However, as he handed her the last charm, which looked strikingly like an engagement ring, she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Miles, this one looks like an engagement ring," she commented, her voice laced with amusement.

Miles chuckled and winked at her. "Well, until we're a bit older, it's just a promise ring," he said, slipping it onto her finger. "One day, though."

(Y/N) blushed at his words, the promise of a future together warming her heart. She accepted the charm bracelet and the promise ring, feeling grateful for the love and dedication Miles poured into their relationship. As they left Pandora, hand in hand, she couldn't help but smile, knowing that their journey together was just beginning.

[silveryclear]

STNAF Coraline AU ch.5

MDNI ALL CONTENT REGARDING STNAF IS 18+ AND SO IS THIS BLOG

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

CW: Sexual Content, Knife play (with scissors), Dry Humping, Thigh Ridding, Reader wears lingerie but gender is not specified, Nipple Worship, Penetration, Fingering, Versatile, Soft/Rough Sex, Creampie

A/N: I severely underestimated just how long the sex scene ended up being (I don’t think any of you are complaining lmao) so consider this the precursor— chapter 5.1, if you will~

Chapter 5

You make your way into the same bedroom you just left behind. But you knew it was different, you could sense that this was the same place you thought you could only see in your dreams.

Your mind could barely make sense of this, too distraught to focus on the implications of this world as you call out to the person you know that will comfort you.

Other Friend almost immediately appears, making his way to you. His eyebrows furrow, button eyes gazing at your disheveled state on the floor. You feel Other Friend’s strong arms embrace your body, picking you up and placing you on the bed as he sits by your side.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Other Friend’s sweet voice lulled you into a sense of comfort you so desperately needed.

You slowly raise your head, your teary eyes gazing into his concerned button ones. “H-He… He didn’t come…” You hiccup, wiping your tears. “He p-promised he would! Why didn’t he come?!”

“Shhh… I’m so sorry, baby… You don’t deserve this.” Other Friend’s arms embrace you once again as you sob into his chest.

You let yourself be comforted by your Other Friend, clinging onto him tightly as he cradled you on the bed. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear. However, words aren’t enough to relieve the pain of your broken heart. You wanted to feel loved. You needed it— craved it at this exact moment.

“Friend… I need you.” You whimper softly, clutching his shirt tightly.

“I’m right here baby…” He coos softly, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Nooo…” You whine and press your body against his, making him blush and raise his eyebrows in surprise. “I need you.”

Other Friend tenses once it dawns on him. Your desperate and disheveled state igniting a part of him that he worked hard to conceal from you. He swallows, his expression darkening as his lust awakens.

In your current disarrayed mind, it made absolute sense to press your lips against Other Friend’s ones, to push him onto his back as you straddle his hips, kissing him feverishly. Other Friend has barely any time to the situation, only to act on instinct as this was the thing he’s been craving for the most ever since you set foot into his domain. You may not be kissing him for the right reasons, but in his eyes, you are exactly where you were always meant to be.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He groans into your lips, biting your lower lip and pulling away softly just to grip you by your waist and press you closer, wanting to feel your body. “you’re going to be the death of me…” He murmurs, his words ringing true in your ears. He claims your lips once again.

He kissed you with passion and fervor, your warm breaths mixing with each other as well as the soft moans and grunts you both let out as your bodies grind in need of friction.

Out of nowhere, Other Friend pulls out a pair of sharp scissors and makes large cuts along your clothing, startling you momentarily. He only grins at your slightly frightened state and pecks your lips as he continues to discard the the pieces of cloth. “You’re not going to be needing this…” He whispers, the cool steel tip of the scissors lightly grazing your skin, making you shiver in fear and arousal.

You are left in your underwear and you blush with embarrassment at the pieces you were wearing. Other Friend remains silent for a few seconds, taking in the intricate designs and details and how they make every curve, bump and roll appear even more delectable. His breathing grows ragged, his button eyes darkening as a sense of jealousy comes over him, but quickly disappears as he remembers that you are begging him to make you feel good, not his doppelgänger.

“These, however, are too pretty to destroy~” He whispers against the skin of your shoulder as he trails hot, wet kisses down your chest. He licks your nipples through the sheer fabric and you gasp out in pleasure, gripping his shoulders.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, okay, sweetheart?” He murmurs, looking up at you as his long tongue swirls and dances along your perked nipples.

“Nngh… yes, please…” You whisper, your voice hoarse and your eyes and cheeks puffy from your crying. This only turns him on more.

He grips your waist tighter and grinds your hips against his thigh, making you tremble and moan from the friction on your sex.

“Hump my thigh, baby… I wanna see how you’ll get off on my cock.”

You whimper at his words as you move your hips along his thigh, holding onto his shoulders as you feel the pleasurable sensations travel your body. You close your eyes and arch your back, as if making a show out of yourself for him— to show him how much you really want him.

Other Friend could only watch in awe as you got yourself off on his thigh, his breathing labored as your wet arousal made a mess of your underwear and his clothed thigh. He placed his hand on the nape of your neck and brought you closer, his nose brushing against your neck as he inhaled your intoxicating scent. You shivered and rutted faster.

Other Friend chuckles at your desperation. “That’s it sweetheart… use me… I’m yours~” He groans, his hot breath fanning your ear. His lips delve into the soft skin of your neck and leaves a trail of kisses and gentle bites. He bounces his thigh gently, gazing in awe as your jaw falls slack and your eyes widen— breathy sounds of pleasure escape your lips as the movement sends vibrations of ecstasy from your groin straight into your brain and the rest of your already agitated body.

“Hhghnn… mine…” You let out a strained moan, your mind and body on autopilot as you relinquish yourself to the pleasure. The sounds of your needy and possessive whines along with the squelching and rutting of fabrics almost makes him cum in his pants. His hard cock was already straining against the clothing, and the movement of your hips made the brush of his cock against his pants just the more sensitive.

He stifles a moan, his breathing ragged as he shuts his eyes. His dick dripping enough pre cum to stain through his pants. A particularly whiny moan of yours snaps his button eyes open as he lets out a low growl, sounding possessive and desperate. You shiver in delight as your hips stutter slightly before picking up the pace.

Other Friend chuckles darkly as he conjures a bottle of lube out of thin air and pulls your underwear aside. “Do you like this, baby~?” He growls lowly, his voice laced with lust. You nod your head enthusiastically, grinding you hips harder. “You want me to finger you good and deep?”

You’re barely given any room to respond before you feel Other Friend’s cold, slimy fingers prod at your hole, making you gasp and arch your back at the sensation. “F-Friend… ahhhh~!” You groan and whine when you feel your best friends long fingers delve deeper and pump shallowly. You stop humping his thigh and begin to ride his hand instead, pressing and grinding your sex onto the palm of his hand while two fingers scissor and stretch out your hole in preparation for what’s to come.

“My sweetheart’s so needy~” He giggles and inserts another finger just to see you writhe and squirm above him. “You wanna ride me, yeah? You wanna jump on your best friend’s cock?” He teases you with a sadistic grin on his face as he pumps his fingers faster and deeper, wet, squelching sounds echoing the room along with your desperate moans.

“Yes! Yes I wanna!” You cry out, tears brimming the corner of your eyes from the intense pleasure burning within your lower body. “Please… I need you!”

“F-Fuck…” Other Friend breathes out, a growl sounding from deep within his throat from your unexpected pleading. This only fueled his obsession and need for you even more as he couldn’t wait to see you bounce on his cock.

He quickly unbuckles his belt and lowers his pants and boxers, his large dick bobbing free. His cockhead was red and weeping with arousal, his length twitching like crazy just from having you stare at it with wide eyes with slight fear, but mostly desire. Other Friend grins and slowly takes his fingers out of your pulsating hole, making you whine from the emptiness. With the same lubrication and slick, he pumps his cock with slow, languid thrusts, smearing his precum and covering his throbbing cock with your juices.

You squirm with anticipation, your hips bucking against nothing as you imagine just how full Other Friend’s cock will make you feel.

“Come on, baby…” He smirks, his voice a seductive purr. “Ride me like you mean it~”

You don’t need to be told twice before you’re straddling his hips and gently lowering yourself onto his thick cock. You hiss and groan slightly as you feel his girth stretch you out further than his fingers did. Other Friend grips your hips, a strangled moan making past his lips as he feels your warm, wet heat slowly envelope him. He takes a sharp intake of breath once he feels you raise and lower yourself at a slow pace, getting accustomed to his size.

“Mmm… so big…” you moan absentmindedly as you continue to grind your hips, not noticing Other Friend’s slacked jaw as he gazes at you like a deity. His button eyes glaze over with primal lust and as he leans closer to beg into your ear.

“C-Can I fuck you? Please baby… you feel too good… let me make you feel good please baby please…” He murmurs, nipping and sucking on your ear.

As soon as you nod, Other Friend grips your hips tighter and makes a few deep, tentative thrusts that left you reeling and holding onto his shoulders for support. Once you manage to catch your breath, his gentle thrusts become an assault to your hole as he pounds into you like a beast in heat.

“F-Friend..! Hhhh… hahhh…” You moan lewdly as he rams his cock from underneath you, his button eyes unwavering from you.

Other Friend grunts with every thrust, his pace only quickening once his cockhead brushes against the part that has you arching your back and moaning from ecstasy.

“Yes… yes! Oh god…”

“Fuck, sweetheart… I can feel you clenching around me…” He grunts, keeping a steady pace as he fucks you fast and deep. “You like it when I fuck you like this, huh? Tell me how much you want me…”

“I want you, Friend… I want you so bad..!” You cry out, bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.

He groans, gripping your hips impossibly tighter as he feels the pleasure slowly build up within him. “Fuck… you feel too good baby… I’m about to cum…” He murmurs in a low, breathy tone.

“M-Me too…” You whimper softly, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his neck as he keeps thrusting into you with fervor. “I… I want it… I want your cum…”

His hips stutter as soon as you said those words. He quickly recovers and becomes more vocal, rutting deeper and faster as his breath came out in quick pants. “Mine… you’re mine…” He growls lowly as he lines his cock to hit your weak spot. “Mine to keep… mine to claim…”

“Please please please please…” You keep chanting and whining desperately.

“Fuck baby, I’m cumming…!” Other Friend moans hoarsely as he spurts ribbons upon ribbons of hot cum inside of you, filling you to the brim with his seed. As soon as you feel him release, you come undone on his cock, shaking and writhing above him as he fucks his cum deeper with a few particularly harsh thrusts that have you seeing stars.

“Ahhhh… hahhhhh… Friend…” you moan into his neck as your body slumped on top of his, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure.

“I’ve got you baby…” He kisses your forehead and holds you tightly against him. “I’ve got you…”

Slowly, drowsiness begins to creep into your body. Your breathing evens out and you rest your head on Other Friend’s shoulder, relaxing in his embrace. In your blissed out state, you barely remember the reason why you sought Other Friend’s comfort, but that barely matters now as he wraps his arms around you and gently rocks you to sleep.

Chapter 6