#i don't read that much at all but i've been lurking like a hungry and very unsatisfied beast in the emet corner of ao3

[nights-at-crystarium]

May I share a fic rec? I finally found an Emet fic that scratched my brain in all the right places, never I would've expected that from an Ardbert ship @_@ (disclaimer: I'm not responsible for the brainrot it might awaken in you)

Studies in incorporeality

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 4

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

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Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains blood and gore, violence, some body horror, and some dubcon (lightly). Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

The story gets more complicated and violent, so be prepared!

I've been watching way too many horror movies again, and I was sick too, so I gathered some firsthand experience for some of the sensations our poor MC has to face. But now I feel much better, can't say the same about her... Well, there's that :D

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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The sound of soft laughter fills the walls of the house, painted golden yellow from the fire, and the lingering shadows of your companions loom over the carved wood like nightmarish demons. And with each step, you get closer and closer to the deceptive cheerfulness that unfolds below, which flows like a sick play around the laid table. As if an idyllic moment was snatched from a comedy movie meant for children and families, every minute of which is full of perfectly written laughter and undisturbed joy, but every giggle crawls into your ear canals on the slimy legs of a disgusting maggot, to bury itself in your brain and push you closer to madness with each minute.

You sneak closer to the stairs with careful quietness, unable to take your eyes off the scene unfolding in the middle of the spacious living room, because you're afraid that if you draw attention to yourself sooner than necessary, you won't have a chance to escape. Although the treacherous little voice in your head warns you that all your chances of disappearing from this terrible, artificial world were lost when Simon closed his arms around you.

And you reflexively look for the blond man, and as soon as your strained gaze finds his burly figure sitting at the table, terror envelopes your stomach in an icy grip. Every bit of him is deceptively calm, and he rests next to Johnny in his chair with such careless relaxation as if he always belonged there at the birthday dinner. But you see the waiting danger in his eyes, which makes him look like a wolf killing some time before finally tearing his victim to pieces, who doesn't even know that they willingly laid their neck in his open jaws. And it seems cruel how the two girls engage in a light-hearted conversation with the two men amid wild gesticulations and cozy delight, because you know exactly that each carefree sound that leaves their mouths is a precursor to a painful scream in the dead of the night.

Every member of yours is protesting against going down, and your legs tug you back like leaden weights, as you try to drag your body, heavy with fear, forward. As if with each step, the thread that binds you with weak fingers to the fleeting promise of survival is unraveling a little more. You'll have to go down though. Because if you hide, you risk the wrath of the game. You need information to get a new clue, and if you don't join this miserable charade, you'll lose any chance of finding anything. You have to do it even if every cell of yours screams agonizingly with dread.

The polished wood of the stairs creaks as you slowly descend the steps, and the eyes of the two men fixate on you almost on command, like two hungry vultures before which the delicious meal has finally appeared. And you realize bitterly that it's not so far off  from reality, because you're probably only a few hours away from someone quenching their thirst with your still-warm blood after they've hunted you down like an animal.

NO! Enough! You can't think that! Even though this wretched place wants to make it difficult for you to win, you must not let it get its way, because then you'll wither away in this quicksand of raw flesh and screams, stuck in endless suffering. You must not let it win. You won't let it win.

Your determination eases the trembling that shakes your knees wildly, and as you reach the bottom of the stairs, you straighten your back out, because these two bloodthirsty monsters must not see that they were able to plant the seeds of hopelessness in your mind. Even if this bitter feeling has taken root, you should not allow them to find morbid joy in it. Because that would be equal to your defeat.

"The birthday girl is finally here!" Pam exclaims enthusiastically as she turns back to you to look at you, and for a moment her kindness breaks your heart as you let her spring up and lead you to the empty chair at the head of the table with tender, friendly love. You don't deserve a minute of her attention, even if there's nothing real behind it. A fictional creature, whose empty shell is filled with life by the game, just so that it can take this temporary existence away as painfully as possible. But still, as she pushes you down to the chair with a warm smile and squeezes your shoulder excitedly, your throat tightens painfully with pity. You gave up trying to save them a long time ago, you forgot the compassion you felt for them, yet now your brain, overloaded because of the impossible events, allows you for a moment to feel sympathy for them. "The best place belongs to the celebrated!" She chirps, and when she's certain that you've made yourself comfortable, he strolls back to her seat, with such an unworried spring in her step that you recall quite cruelly how quickly this lightness turns into desperate fear as she runs for her life. And despite this sugary-sweet show, it'll happen soon enough.

And even to you, it's strange how the whole dinner scene begins with such familiar movements, even though Simon has intruded on the well-known story as an uninvited guest. And this might be because he only occasionally interjects a short comment into the smooth flow of events, otherwise not disrupting the dialogue that you have already heard torturously many times. If he does answer, the game bends the threads of its own story so smoothly that, in spite of the new change, you end up in exactly the same place where you have always been. And this fills your soul with such fiery hope that suddenly every cell of yours ignites with the wild desire to act, because if the presence of the masked man doesn't lead the story in a completely new direction, then there is a chance that the clues will still be there where they were before you discovered them... And that makes the doubts clinging to your gut seem to withdraw, and you feel that you can finally breathe for the first time since discovering the book.

"It's so nice of Johnny to put together this dinner, isn't it?" Rebecca chimes in, lifting another bite into her mouth with her fork, carrying her gaze around on the myriad of appetizing dishes displayed on the table with real delight. And you tear yourself out of the continuing web of your thoughts with a startled wince, in which you've been immersed far away, already browsing through the series of clues you've found so far. You run your confused eyes through the group at lightning speed, and when you meet the girl's puzzled expression, you reluctantly turn your attention back to them.

"Yeah... It's very nice of him." You blurt out your scripted, well-rehearsed dialogue, and although your tongue almost goes numb under the weight of the lie, you’re able to force the faint line of an authentic-looking smile on your mouth.

Although everyone seems to calm down, you see sparks of interest in Simon's eyes. And as you carefully look at him and your gaze intertwines with his, you see the unmistakable lines of a smile appearing around his eyes in the warm light. But there is nothing comforting about this gesture, because an almost condescending kindness emanates from his every cell, and this makes him look like no more than a spectator of an unfolding sad comedy. And if he really knows that you're not from here, then all ot this is really nothing more for him than watching a movie up close, the end of which he's perfectly aware of. But you can still surprise him. Because you won't let him think he's in charge. You just have to find a clue…

And you jerk back, almost startled, as Johnny's face swims into your vision, thus hiding the sight of his friend from you, and the change happens so suddenly that you just stare into his cheerful blue eyes, blinking with bewildered surprise.

"It's nothing! I'd dae anythin' for my wee lil' Bunny!" He utters enthusiastically, and although his words don't sound like lies, fear snakes into you along his deep voice. Because this sentence has never appeared anywhere before, and it's so new to your shocked brain that you're unable to register how one of his tanned hands slowly slides onto your fist gripping the fork, wrapping around it like an anaconda on its prey. And even though his touch is light as a feather, you feel as though he's squeezing you in a way that makes all your bones crack, like a couple of dry tree branches. What's this again? Why does the story diverge if it has followed the main storyline so far?

"You're such a lucky girl! I would sell my soul to be treated so well by someone!" Pam sighs longingly, and as she folds her hands in front of her chest with feigned offense, your confusion deepens. Because suddenly this whole horrible interlude takes a turn that is completely unknown to you. Up until now, it's been Pam who has had any sort of romantic streak, because she's the one who gets killed for living out her lustful passion. Thus far, you've never been the center of attention in this way, not even at any level worth mentioning, and the realization that now this is just another complication and death flag cuts into your brain like a knife. And suddenly you feel that the taste of the food turns to ash in your mouth, the dryness of which drags the waves of nausea up your throat.

"Is there something wrong?" Rebecca's worried question cuts through your shock, and as you realize that every pair of eyes is staring at you, you’re filled with the desire to escape. But you don't even dare to move, because you're afraid that every irresponsible action you make will trigger an avalanche that will have harsh consequences.

"I think my stomach is a little upset. Maybe I caught something." You try to explain yourself weakly, and with every nerve you attempt to force authenticity into your features, slowly releasing your hand from Johnny's grip. You have to wait to see what else changes, and to have the slightest chance to search for hints later. Because if you're not careful enough, you lose all hope of even finding a clue.

"Oh, poor lil' Bunny." Johnny grumbles, and although there is some pity in his voice, a hideous undertone lurks behind the sympathetic words that make goosebumps prickle on your skin in an instant. And maybe an outside observer would think that there are indeed wrinkles of kind concern on his face, but you see the joy in his eyes. Like you've just given him something he's been waiting on pins and needles for. "Let me help ye!"

And you soon understand how he wants to help you. Because, as the chair cries out with an ear-splitting scream, when he pulls it uncomfortably close to you, then it's too late for you to escape. The wolf has already found you, and you can do nothing but watch with stunned helplessness as it starts to devour you.

Not a single sound can escape your mouth, as your protest gets stuck under the lump that jumps into your throat, and you freeze in fear as one of Johnny's big hands slides over your back with easy naturalness. And as his warm fingers begin to draw slow, soothing circles on your back, as if he really wants to drive away your growing sickness with his gentle touch, but you go as still as a statue, completely unmoving. You're unable to turn away from the man, whose gaze is fixed on you with such intense attention, as if someone had hypnotized him. But you already know better than that. You see those ice-blue eyes gliding across your face, and you know that he finds his joy in the frightened curve of your eyebrows, the motionless panic of your eyes, and the quivering line of your lips, like a hungry hyena feeding on terror. And as, during his seemingly innocent adventure, one of his fingers almost imperceptibly slips under the clasp of your bra, crumpling the soft material of your t-shirt, that hungry grin appears on his mouth, with which a beast flashes its teeth at its victim. And the scene in the kitchen takes shape in your brain so quickly that you're unable to hold back the frightened whimper that erupts from you.

"There's no need for that... I'd rather rest." You try to oppose meekly, carefully choosing each of your terrified words, and when you pull back from the man's suffocating proximity, his palm spreading over your back prevents you, holding you back as easily as if it wouldn't be more to him then just a minor inconvenience. And you’re probably right, because even though you can see the cords of the sculpted muscles dancing on his arm from the corner of your eye, his whole body still remains in your personal space with unmovable carelessness.

"Dinnae be silly!" Johnny silences your protest, and from the curve of the smile on his lips, the tentacles of anxiety growing inside you cling to every single cell of yours. Because it suddenly becomes painfully clear that you've fallen into a trap and you don't even have a chance to flee. "I'll help ye... ye'll let me, won't ye?" He inquires, but there is something very certain about his question, as if he asked it just for the sake of fun, because he already knows the answer anyway. And why wouldn't he act like that? He slyly lured you into his arms, and now it's time for him to enjoy the fact that you’re exactly where he wanted you all along.

And although your brain is feverishly working on excuses that you can use to escape, like a frightened little rabbit running from wolves, the man gets to work much sooner. His wandering hand on your back crawls up your spine with the deadly slowness of a snake, and as his fingers dance along each small bump, you instinctively get a chill from the condescending tenderness that mixes with his touch. And you feel how the tiny little hairs stand up in the wake of his fingertips, and fear spreads through all your limbs, as if a paralyzing poison had been injected into you. And if resistance had even crossed your mind, then all your stray thoughts disappear immediately, because as soon as he clamps his hand on the back of your neck to lock around it, you freeze as terrified as if you had turned to stone.

You see the cheerful sparks in his eyes as he recognizes how obedient he has made you become, and you helplessly let his free hand, which has been resting on the table until now, come to play on the feeble stage of your body. And although you’re unable to take your eyes off his face, you catch in your periphery as he touches your knee almost teasingly, and you can't suppress the trembling that moves inside of you as his fingers begin to slither toward your thigh. You can feel the heat emanating from him even through the material of your pants, and you swear that the imprint of his palm almost burns into you as he stops to grip the soft flesh.

And like a wild animal about to feast, he flashes all his teeth with the grin that moves to his face, and as he rests his forehead on the crook of your neck, the treacherous warmth in your stomach rises in addition to fear when, following the hoarse laughter that rises from his throat, as his hot breath fans over the sensitive skin.

You turn your eyes to your surroundings in desperation, but all hope is gone when you see the expression on your companions' faces. Because the mouths of both girls are frozen in languid smiles, and they're watching the obscene moment unfolding in front of them as if it were the most natural thing in the world that someone climbs on you in the middle of a birthday dinner. Like they're watching the finale of a romantic movie, not Johnny slowly eating you alive like a starved dog. But it makes you even more upset when you glance at Simon as a result of a thoughtless reflex, because you immediately regret that you dared to look at him at all. The man continues to rest in his chair with undisturbed calm, and as he carelessly throws his hand on the back of the chair and tilts his head to the side, he follows the wet path of Johnny's mouth as his lips travel to the pulsing veins on your neck with such morbid interest, as if it were nothing more to him then some light fun. And you realize with alarm that you can't hope for help, because the game is more than happy to let this whole horrible situation continue, even if it goes against its own rules...

And when you feel the blunt edge of one of Johnny's canines drawing his mark into your skin with almost mocking fondness, that something that has so far locked your body in a paralyzed shackle snap. Because now you know for sure that nothing will happen the same as before, and your only chance to survive is to disappear from here right now. An unknown strength of determination moves into you, and you tear yourself out of his arms so unexpectedly that even he flinches back in surprise for a moment as you spring up from your chair.

"That will be enough! I better rest." You break the stunned silence, and although it's impossible not to hear the fear hidden in your voice, the decisiveness grows much stronger. And despite the fact that you feel that this small rebellion is already disturbing the apparent calm of the game, you don't care. You have to escape, because if you don't get out of their sight, your hours are numbered. And you can no longer allow yourself to die irresponsibly, no matter what lies ahead.

But just as you would take advantage of Johnny's surprise to free yourself from the prison of his thick arms, someone who has been watching this madness as a silent spectator until now finally joins the events. Simon leans forward in his chair with nerve-wracking slowness to look up at you with his elbows on the table, and that's enough for the sinister spasms of panic to close around your stomach in a violent embrace. Because you see the light that dances in those dark eyes... And they tell you that you made a big mistake, and he'll punish you for it with the greatest pleasure. He warned you, didn't he?

"Sit down." The man motions his head towards your chair, and his statement sounds much more like an instruction than a request. You'd be foolish to think he's only making suggestions when you see how menacingly his hoodie stretches over his broad shoulders as he hunches over the festive table. "The party's about to start." He adds, and you don't like the amusement in his tone at all. Like he’s already amused by something, which you have no idea of yet.

"I don't want to." You squeeze it out of yourself, and although you try to put confidence on your face, it doesn't escape the masked man's attention as you force down the stomach acid pushing up into your dry throat with a frightened little swallow. Because you can see his mouth open under the dark textile covering his face, as he follows this small movement, and from the play of the light of the fire, it looks like he's grinning...

But before you can even decipher what kind of storm might be brewing, you're distracted by something completely different. And as you feel Johnny's hot breath penetrating the thin fabric of the t-shirt covering your belly, you turn back to him in fear, but it's too late. You were too irresponsible, and you lost sight of the monster, in whose claws you have been writhing on the fading edge of safety. And now, as his big hands find the round curve of your hips and his fingers playfully grip it, you already know that the fragile chance of your escape is drifting further and further away from you. You're not deceived by the innocence with which the man settles his chin on your stomach, nor by the way those beautiful sky-blue eyes stare up at you, because you feel the certainty with which he hides the escape route with the coverage of his strong body.

"And then what will happen to them?" Johnny asks, and the worry that enters his voice hits you unprepared, and the confusion instinctively takes over your features, as you take in the way the line of his troubled eyebrows meet. And from this tiny little move, his concern seems quite genuine, and it only pushes your mind even deeper into your ever-increasing shock. What the hell is he talking about?

"With whom?" The cautious question breaks out of you, because your brain, which is buzzing with stress, is unable to understand who he could be aiming at. But you don't have to wait long for him to clarify and dispel the doubts from your mind, because as his head finds a comfortable resting place on your belly, as he turns back to the table, smoothing his face against you, you immediately understand who you have forgotten about until now.

"With your friends." He answers easily, removing all the care from his tone, which he has smuggled into it so masterfully so far. There is something stomach-churningly intimate about the way he nuzzles your navel with his nose, and the way he almost burrows into the warmth of your body, which makes every cell of you instinctively scream for help. And as his arms close around you in a slow but deadly sure embrace, even though you don't fully see the horrible expression he's wearing because he's hiding in your clothes, your eyes find his reflection in one of the elegant glasses. And on the delicate surface of the glass, the corrupted, bloodthirsty smile that spreads across his lips is distorted almost like a nightmare.

"What are you talking about?" You hesitate, scared, and your voice comes out of your mouth like a pitiful whisper that it seems quite distant even to your ears. And you're unable to tear your gaze away from the glass, because you see the man's crooked smile widen further and become a twisted snarl on the glass, which suddenly brings back all the memories of when you were on the other side of that grin. With this exact expression, he plunged a knife into your beating heart and watched as the light of life faded from your eyes. And this makes you realize that, even though you waited for a soothing play, the time for bloodshed has long come.

"Dessert is comin' now." Simon joins in, and this simple little sentence sounds deceptively harmless from his mouth. But as he turns to your companions opposite him, who have been sitting in their seats in a happy stupor until now, you realize that you won't be the target now. However, this doesn't calm you down one bit. "Pam." He almost snaps at the girl, in a tone that sounds like he's asking a trained dog to show off the latest trick it's learned. And you're horrified to learn that the analogy couldn't be more accurate, because Pam shoots up with such enthusiastic joy, as if her owner had really dangled a reward in front of her nose.

"Oh, right away!" She gushes cheerfully, and for a split second, you can't understand why she reaches for the huge knife resting next to the cake so suddenly because of the fear sitting on your brain. You just watch, paralyzed, as she places her left hand on the table, and as the warm light glints on the cold metal of the blade, something quite uncomfortable grips your insides. And when the girl turns to you and her gaze sinks into yours, you see nothing but the bottomless emptiness shining in those bright eyes, as if all the life that the game had so graciously instilled in her had disappeared.

But even though she looks like a lifeless puppet, the sound of the knife piercing through bone is very real, as the next moment she cuts off her index finger with one simple and swift movement. The sick crack almost echoes in your ears, as if someone has just started slicing a deliciously fresh carrot, but as blood gushes out of the wound in rich drops and paints the snowy white of the tablecloth crimson, you know that your eyes are not fooled.

"What…. what the hell..." You stutter, and you feel your brain getting short-circuited by the sight. Because Pam just pulls out the knife buried in the wood of the table with unflinching glee, so as if nothing had happened, she raises it again and strikes the next finger with it. Moved by the force of the attack, the severed digit rolls away, plowing a trail of blood in its wake, drawing a grotesque painting among the multitude of bowls resting on the table. This awakes the pulsing nausea in you again, and you clasp your palm over your mouth to try to hold back the rest of your dinner, which starts gnawing up your throat. However, Pam doesn't even seem to perceive the outside world, the wide smile on her face stretches into a grotesque grin, and her teeth are pressed together with such force that you can almost hear them crack.

"Why dinnae ye sit down, hmm?" Johnny's voice breaks through your shock, and you startledly tear your eyes away from the horrible serenity on Pam's face to turn to the man again, because suddenly even this seems like a better idea. But as he glances up at you from under his dark eyelashes, and something quite predatory flashes in his eyes, you know that the dinner slowly soaking in blood would have been a more soothing sight. "If yer gonnae be the dessert, then she can stop..." He offers, and your stomach turns from the sugary kindness that sits in his words.

And when his arms holding you in check slowly let go of their hold, you'd think you finally can catch your breath for a moment, but much sooner the air gets stuck in your lungs, as his fingers grasp your thighs with almost painful force, and you can feel their marks soak into your skin like fresh purple bruises. His face is pressed against your lap, and his tongue sticks out of his mouth to draw a wet path along the small seam running in the middle of your pants, and you can feel the heat emanating from him even through the rough material of your jeans, then you would try to back away in alarm, but you don't get far. His grip locks you in place much more firmly, and the treacherous tingle that awakens in your frozen body pushes you towards dizziness when he finally finds that tiny sensitive bud through the fabric, which makes you tremble and grip his broad shoulders in terror. And a deep, almost animalistic growl erupts from Johnny's throat when he catches this instinctive little movement.

Another tears you out of the paralysis towards which you drift more and more surely, and as Pam, laughing joyfully, sweeps the stump of her ring finger away in the puddle of blood on the tablecloth, you're already glad that Johnny is so willing to let you cling to him. When you catch Simon out of the corner of your eye, you're unable to stop yourself and almost automatically direct your gaze to him. And you would swear that you have never seen a more beautiful man, because the lustful look with which his dark eyes fixate on you, while one hand caresses his stomach lazily, is not entirely of this world. You follow almost in a daze as his fingers dance leisurely along the bulging hardness of his pants, and only another snap brings you back to the present before you allow yourself to be lured into the trap they want to drag you into in such a vile way.

No matter the two men's angelic faces, no matter the sinful power emanating from them, it penetrates your paralyzed consciousness too strongly, as the sea of blood spreading across the table slowly reaches you and begins to drum in heavy drops on the floorboards. Because only monsters are capable of such horror, and it awakens the desire to escape in you enough that your heart rate, which is accelerating in dread, finally pumps out the adrenaline in your body so you can act.

You reach for your glass resting on the table so unexpectedly that you manage to surprise Johnny when you smash it on his head. And you know that it won't do him any serious damage, but the pain lasts just long enough for him to release you in the middle of a tortured hiss, and you can take advantage of this to get out of his arms so nimbly that by the time he comes to his senses, you're a safe distance away. No matter how much a faint sense of guilt awakens in you, when you turn your back on everything and sprint towards the stairs, for leaving your companions at the mercy of the beasts, the survival instinct raging inside you drives this weakness to the hidden corner of your skull much sooner. Because these bastards were trying to use this, and they wanted to take advantage of this to catch you...

Even through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you can hear the laughter that comes from Johnny when you reach the top floor, and you know exactly what that voice promises you. There's nothing in it but cruel amusement, and that just helps enough to speed up your steps towards your room. And as soon as the small abode finally envelopes you, you slam the door behind you with such force that its loud bang almost shakes the house. But for once, you don't care if you make noise, because the chase has already started, and there's no point in being subtle.

You lock the door with trembling hands, but you know that you won't be able to keep them out for long, because you've experienced Johnny's power enough times. That's why you rush to the closet resting next to the wall with lightning speed, and you push against it clenching your teeth, because it might delay them for a minute longer. The furniture sways with a creak, as it slowly obeys the violent urging, and as you shove it with your shoulder again and again with angry desperation, it finally gives in and falls in front of the door with an loud crash, spilling all its contents to the floor. And although a sharp ache shoots through your arm as you step back to examine your makeshift barricade, all pain fades when you hear heavy footsteps stomping up the stairs in the sudden silence. They're coming after you.

And you immediately search for a new way out, and as soon as your gaze settles on the open window, you already know what you have to do. Because even though you know that there are enough dangers out there, the uncertain darkness seems friendlier than waiting here to see what kind of retribution you'll receive for interrupting the two men's fun.

And when the doorknob turns for the first time, you're already outside on the narrow roof, and you only take one last look at the door, which is slowly beginning to shake wildly, before you disappear in the cold night.

And only one thought screams in your head: You have to survive the night.

[mattodore]

Hello it’s me again. I’m lurking and I’m curious about you. I mean how do you feel about making Matthias and theo’s lore? I specifically talking about intimacy and trauma parts. It’s all fictional characters after all but I personally think that creating characters takes huge impact on creators. You still see them as only fictional characters, just sims or something else? Would you write a book about them or make a movie if you have opportunity? You think you’ll have them in mind after years?

What I wanna say in one sentence: your creating process just fascinates me.

hm... i don't really know how i see them, to be honest. i've kind of done so much projection on these guys that, like... a lot of them is me? in a sense? even that last ask i answered... matthias's taste in cars is MY taste in cars. i do see them as characters in my head but there is a kind of vulnerable me there too. somewhere.

but with relation to the traumas and intimacies... hm... theo's backstory takes a lot out of me. i don't talk about any of it on here. i mean, i say a lot, but i never really talk about the details. i don't think it's hard to figure out yourself, though. specifics may be blurry, but i think... most people get it. um, and matthias's backstory is pretty brutal too. so their traumas do take their tole on me... it's why i cry every time i read theo's 100 questions questionnaire. it's why i watch the plague dogs and just think of matthias and feel sick. their teenage years were horrible.

but i think coming up with their lore or past was... i don't know. um, i didn't really have any of it planned? originally i only came up with the characters as they are in their 20s... it's just that... well. it just made sense? theo's character... his entire personality made sense when i looked back at his life before and started putting out these building blocks for the future and then took some away. like, i came up with theo at 21-24 (because i still haven't settled on an exact age) with these traits: he's distrustful, mean, scared, hard to get close to, lonely... and i thought, okay... why would he be distrustful? what makes him so scared? why doesn't he want anyone to come near him? things like that. with matthias at 26... he's so empty. he's got nothing inside him and he's so hungry... why? what was his childhood like that there's just nothing? that he needs so much? and from there i just. started writing.

a lot of my favorite media deals with pretty dark topics. i wouldn't say any of them were a direct influence, but i've always engaged with topics of drug use, child abuse, suicide, x y z, this that and the other. and obviously there's the me of it all. so... yeah. there's those influences, for sure. i can definitely point toward real life with relation to matthias's time at the reform school, though, because i'd been reading about the troubled teen industry a lot.

the intimacy... hm. a lot of their desires are actually tied to their traumas. i don't really have much to say about this because it's... idk. self-explanatory? matthias turned something used against him into something he enjoys. coping. theo... well. he views sex as something done to him and he uses that... to hurt himself. um... he's really self-destructive. and i think... there's an interesting connection between the two of them and pain and intimacy and they use it in different ways. i... actually am realizing i have a lot to say about this but that's not really the point of this ask. basically, i don't feel drained as much with relation to the intimacy of the sexual kind from their characters because i think matthias finds joy in what used to be only pain and theo... has that pain flipped on its head after meeting matthias and there's a shift in it... and he feels held instead of held down. if that makes sense? hm. there's healing in the intimate for them with each other.

i absolutely want to write a book for them. a movie i feel would be... too tight. they need room. and they've already been in my head for years. i think they're gonna be there forever. theo specifically kind of just. lives with me.

hopefully this answered everything you were asking about? i think it got away from me a bit, but yeah... thank you for sending me this and for being so kind as always MWAH

[sohcah-toa]

aaaaa i am loving your kinktober stuff!!! and i can’t wait to read what you write for childe he’s my fav hehe

thank u so much! srry guys this took long, i had a lot of homework ✌

You can see me? | toa

Kinktober Entry 5: Childe

cw: NSFW, ghost possessive childe x reader, sensory deprivation, wall fucking, slight spectrophilia, cussing, minors dni

synopsis: how can a little bit of teasing lead to the real thing? and with a ghost too! always be careful what you wish for.

n: kinktober masterlist link

You knew someone was here, watching, lurking, floating, even trying to do inappropriate things. You've known for three days now. Creeped you out at first but this ghost was hot HOT. You pretended not to know. You just recently saw him, but who knows how long he was watching you? Staying at your home without your knowledge. You also know that his name was Childe because he kept pretending to introduce himself to you many times.

"Meeting with someone again?" He muttered, floating beside you while you were walking. You sighed quietly. He's been like that for a while now, pretty obsessive for a ghost "And it's someone new, wow" the ghost beside you grunted in annoyance. You laughed a little at this. Pretending not to know he's there while he speaks and act weirdly was pretty funny "Last time it was that Thoma guy, then now this — macho man"

'They're my friends' you thought. You wave as you jogged over to Itto "Hey Itto!"

"Wow, now macho man Itto guy. She can do way better. She can do me" The ghost chuckled to himself.

The whole time you and Itto talked, this ghost kept talking too, continuously bashing Itto with mean words. It was funny so from time to time you would laugh.

;

"Home at last!" You started to remove your shoes and coat. You sat on the sofa and turned the television on.

"Home at last indeed. Stop meeting with other guys, I keep telling you this" The ghost rolled his eyes, you were trying so hard not to look at him "I wish you could fucking see me right now"

You see on your peripheral vision that Childe sat beside you, crossing his legs and currently face palming "This hot sexy lady could really do better, if only I was alive I'd have a piece of that" you couldn't see it at the moment but he was smirking. He started to put his hands above your breasts, imagining them, wishing to Tsaritsa he could touch them right now "Fuck, I've been wanting to fuck you for a while now"

Your eyes widen a little, you don't feel anything so you just don't move. Getting molested by a ghost feels pretty weird, but then again it makes you feel excited.

You wanted to tease the ghost so you start unbuttoning your shirt a little "So hot in here"

Childe immediately went and leaned in, staring at them, watching you unbutton every last one "Lucky day" he was so ready to dig in but he keeps forgetting that he's a ghost now.

Truth is, he's been staying with you for a long time now, at first he prevents from watching you while you shower and masturbate or anything that involves showing your skin, feeling embarrassed. But now, he'd kill to see your body. He always try and fuck you at random places but of course, nothing works. You just recently started seeing him so you have little idea about him.

"Holy shit, breasts" He was practically salivating, feeling himself get erect but he couldn't feel you "Fuck I want it so bad" he was about to cry but then you spread your legs, teasing him even more "Oh come on!!"

He was so annoyed by now, he was so hungry for you but couldn't do anything. As you start feeling excited yourself, you wish to all the Gods that he could touch you right now.

He was trying all sorts of stuff but you really can't feel it. Just when he was slapping your breasts, a noise was made. With wide eyes you look to him then you screamed "What the fuck?!!"

He screamed too "The hell?!" you just felt his slap on your breasts, and it made a sound no less. You were both surprised by this "You can see me?!"

"Why the fuck did I feel that?" You were about to cry muttering to yourself. Creeped out by everything, he was still a ghost but now you can feel him too "Holy shit"

You both just stared at each other for a while. "Wait a minute.." Childe muttered "What just happened?"

You were panting "Shut up, Childe" you both went quiet, you didn't mean to call him by his name, you were panicking so hard.

"You know me too huh? How is that?" Childe has a suspicious look on his face, floating in front of you "Anwer me"

"T-That's because..." You mumbled, fidgeting "I can see you this whole time and hear you too! You're weird!! Why do you always go out with me too? I mean come on, just stay in the house" You rolled your eyes with a sigh

"Wha—?" Childe hissed "You're unbelievable, you keep dating guys that's why, I mean who does that? Different guy every week?" he rolled his eyes too, folding his arms in front of his chest

You just stopped talking to him and then started to walk of out the living room, mumbling all kinds of things to yourself.

Childe followed you, he was floating so he caught up immediately, he touched your shoulders making sure it was really happening "I-If you could see me the whole time then why are you always seducing me?!"

You stopped on your tracks and looked back at him "I-I didn't!" you felt embarrassed, your shirt was still unbuttoned. Childe slowly let himself down, letting him touch the floor. He was surprised that he could stand now.

He walked towards you, pinning you on the wall "You didn't?" Childe asked, unbuttoning all the buttons in your polo shirt.

"What are you doing?" You ask, glaring daggers at him, but he just smirked, continuing what he was doing.

"This must be a sign if you could feel, see, hear, converse with me yeah?" He leaned in to your neck, sniffing it then gently kissing it "Ah— fuck I've been craving this for so long"

You felt weak, he touched both your wrists then pinned it on the wall too, preventing you from moving "C-Childe, we gotta figure—" you didn't finish, he kissed your lips, making you feel weaker.

"Hush now" He muttered from under his breath, licking your lips "I want to feel this, it might be limited"

You softly moaned, his hands left your wrists as he starts groping your breasts, he immediately let out a grunt "Shit yes, finally, you've got really big breasts and it's really soft too"

You furrow your brows a little at him, he continued to grope it, playing with it from above your bra. Soon he started removing your clothes, all of it, not sparing a second.

You tried stopping him but you felt weak "C-Childe" you let your hands roam on his body instead, feeling him and his toned muscles. Still thinking how is this possible? Have the Gods answered your prayers? Whatever it is, what matters now is that you feel good.

While you both let your hands roam in each other's body while kissing, you feel his erect cock on your stomach "I-I can really feel it"

He smirked in between kisses, leaning on your neck, kissing it, making you feel weaker by the second "Good" he started grinding, earning your moan. He takes of his shirt, he was surprised he even could, and tied his shirt on your eyes. You tried to remove it but he pinned both your waists on the wall again "Don't" he whispered, his voice was so hot, hot enough to make you melt.

You feel his kisses go down, slowly letting your hand go, his hands rubbing your waist as he licks your stomach then to your vagina.

"Childe.." You muttered, stroking his hair, automatically lifting your other leg up, knowing what he's about to do

"Good girl" you feel his breath on your pussy as he whispers this, making you squirm a little. He touched your folds, letting your slick cover his finger and then licking it "Mmm"

You can't see anything. You just suddenly felt a finger up in your hole, moving in circles. You moaned almost immediately, your raised leg twitching because of the sensation. You were stroking his hair, your grip on his hair tightening with every thrust his finger makes.

"Tch" you hear him, he stopped and hear him unbuckle his belt, you were confused on what was happening. You feel him touch your hands, tying it together.

"W-what?" You mutter but let it happen anyway, waiting for his explanation

"Trust me" He was smirking but obviously you don't see that

You feel him kneel down again, you feel him touch your folds then licked it, his fingers rubbing on the side of your folds while his tongue goes in and out of your hole.

You can't help but moan, you move your tied hands, pushing his head deeper into you "M-More" he stopped your hand by gripping it tightly

"Be a good girl for me" he mumbled, but you can't help but squirm, moving your hips, letting it hit the wall "You're so wet already"

Childe was stroking his own dick from under you, you kept hearing slight noises, his pre cum covering his hands as he licks your hole and clit.

You feel him stand up, letting his cock and pre cum slap your thighs "F-Fuck — me" you were breathing heavily, feeling your slick flow down to your thighs. Childe just chuckled, looking at you feeling to hopeless. You try to move your hands to feel his dick, and jackpot you found it.

You started stroking it, you heard him groan, letting his whole body be as close as possible to yours, if there wasn't a wall behind you, you would be moving backwards at a fast pace right now. Childe raised your leg and placed it on his waist, he grinded on you as you stroke his cock, imagining that he's already fucking you.

He leaned in to your ear, nibbling it, his hands rubbing your nipples "Go faster" he whispered, it was so sexy. You wonder why he covered your eyes, maybe it was because he was insecure about being a ghost, but then again it does make you reel excited. You rub his dick at a faster pace, he thrusted his hips, letting his cock fuck your hands "Shit"

He touched the wall beside your head for support, so he could thrust even faster in your hands, you hear his grunts on your ear, tickling you. You were feeling so good already but here he is fucking your hand instead of your pussy. You were feeling annoyed so you stopped.

"A— Shit, baby girl why'd you stop?" He whispered, touching your chin and kissing your lips softly "You feel so good"

There's just something about the way he says 'baby girl'. You pouted, it was hard for you to move since your hands were tied and your eyes were covered up. You just move your hips, letting your bare pussy feel his erect cock. Your hands go to his chest for support while you grind on him.

"Oh that's why" Childe smiled, letting you grind on him, not moving at all "That's your punishment for seeing other guys" his hands were on his head, he was just standing there while you hopelessly grind on him. You grab his dick and start slapping it on your wet clit, you moaned by yourself while he stands there, preventing himself from making sounds.

You feel his tip rub your clit, you rub it on you at a fast pace, squirming, doing all the work by yourself.

"C-Childe please" You begged, about to cry "Please"

Childe thought that you looked so sexy right now but still didn't move "Let me think about it"

You try and insert his dick in your hole but it won't because you were smaller than him, it was hard to put in because it just keeps on flopping back.

"Ah fuck!" Childe exclaimed, grabbing your hips, letting your legs embrace his waist as he pins you on the wall, carrying you. He inserted his dick immediately "Shit you're irresistible looking like that"

You moaned loudly, your arms embracing his neck "Ngh!!" you feel him inside you, filling you up already "Childe!" you moaned out his name.

"So— tight for me" He grunted, his other hand playing with your breasts as it bounces up an down. He would lick and bite it from time to time, sometime slapping it just so he could hear you scream "I'm going to cum inside you— as many times as I fucking can"

You couldn't even answer. Your feet curled from behind his waist, your tied hands clawing in on the back of his neck. You leaned in, kissing whatever is in front of you. He moved his head so he could kiss you too, inserting his tongue, both tongues playing with each other, strings of saliva everywhere.

He let you down and flipped you, your ass now facing his cock. You feel your breasts touch the wall which made it more erect. He raised you ass and put his dick inside of your pussy hole. He thrusted in and out of you again. With every thrust he makes, you feel your nipples rub on the wall which turns you on even more.

You release screams of pleasure "Fuck!! Yes! Faster! Harder Childe!" you were going crazy, about to cum, your back was arched and Childe thought that it was sexy. He started slapping your ass as he thrusts.

He pounded on you, hard. "Cum for me" he slapped your ass again, all you could do was moan loudly, you started to play with your own nipples to raise the pleasure level

"I-I'm cumming Childe!!! I'm cumming!!" You screamed but then he immediately stopped after one final thrust, you feel warm on your pussy. He leaned back, removing his dick in your hole, you feel something leak on your leg "W-What happened?"

Childe removed his shirt on your eyes and he also removed the belt on your hands, turned back to him. Your eyes adjusted to the light.

"W-what?" You were confused. He didn't even let you cum.

"Maybe don't meet with other guys next time so I could let you cum" He said as he gripped a handful of your hair, making you kneel in front of him "This pretty little face is mine, got it?" he inserted his dick in your mouth forcefully, making you shed a tear. You nodded in response to his words "Now, round two? I'm not done anyway" he grunted as he started to move in and out of your mouth, feeling your warmth.

— END

You thank all the Gods that day, even Childe did. You both don't know the meaning of this. If others could see you both fucking right now, they would just see you, not Childe.

[sufferingisinevitable]

The reason as to why I finally ended up making a Tumblr account in 2022

Nobody is probably going to end up reading this, as is the nature of a first post made without followers. I'll probably pin it. But here it is anyway: The reason as to why I finally ended up making a Tumblr account in 2022.

Obviously I've known of Tumblr a long time. It's been around. I've seem most popular posts and memes and consider myself to be pretty well informed about the overal culture. A lot of it through the TumblrInAction subreddit at first, but now I've spend years and years lurking and reading old posts.

I've made an account before for porn and forgot the login, ignored the site for years, finally made a serious account and posted twice, got locked out of it in the middle of a discussion I was losing, and had to hang my head in shame ever since.

I've been hesistant to make an account again. The internet just hasn't been good to me the past decade. I only spend summer vacations on 4-chan (but I was adamant I was not a summerfag), I deleted Facebook (and national equivalents), never had Twitter and abandoned Reddit after KotakuInAction stopped being enjoyable (I stuck out long though, moving to KIA2 and such before just abandoning Reddit altogether. It wasn't fun anymore.) Most forums I used to visit have long been abandoned or have become Social Justice fight pits or have gone down altogether. In some ways it seems like I have betted on the wrong horse, I really should've gone for Newgrounds instead of Gamemaker.nl/Yoyogames.com.

Most of my teenage years spend making, fixing and talking about games have now all gone down the memory hole. I even lost the harddrive with all my old games so I can suck on that too. I do have some gems saved (just not ones I made myself) from before the site went down so that's something.

Reddit was fun for a while (I have a staggering amount of internet points), but the ever encroaching censorship and the left's inability to keep Trump out of every unrelated discussion soured it for me. TiA was fun, but after it grew it became clear that most of it's commenters just didn't get it. I left after I saw a guy unironically getting dumped on for not believing in witchcraft.

Then KIA was a whole other mess. The mods became power hungry, the community divided, and it was all pointless since the main goal had long been reached. The mainstream video game media is a joke now. No one looks at you weird when you tell them it's a joke. Way more popular youtube personalities treat them as a joke. They are unethical hacks, as per the The Society of Professional Journalists. The battle has thouroughly been won. Although that's just on the #GG side, the overal culture war is obviously a losing battle. The leeches don't care and will suck the joy out of everything that exists and the masses will loudly clap for them while they do it. I have a lot of thoughts about this but in short I think it will take at least 20 years for things to return to some form of what we uptil now have considered normalcy.

Sadly though, it has become hard to delve into early GG history, a lot of my own sources (which I should've saved the archives for) have become defunct and it has become harder to properly source #GamerGate events, although that can also just be search sites becoming more unreliable by the minute. I should do a deep dive into my #GG history, I've been there since before it started and sat through the whole ride.

Deepfreeze.it keeps being a valuable resource though, that alone usually get's the point across.

But #GG has become irrelevant. We see the same methods we observed during the media response to #GG but on a global level. The 24-hour news cycle has made an already tenuous profession, journalism, completely obsolete. It's more efficient to get your news through opinionated sources since you at least know what the angle is. I still read too much news yet trust none of it, there is always something going on.

Which brings me back to Tumblr. I dropped Reddit but I kept reading Tumblr. My mobile browser has a bunch of them saved, I visit them regularly and they have become part of my daily life. It's more fun to learn about current events through a meme or an opinion than through a heavily propagandized news article. Neither are trustworthy but at least one of them gets to the point. It is discouraging to just have excellent users dissapear though, it makes me fear this whole blogging affair is pointless. I've gotten a lot of you back but does anyone know what happened to @noblepeasant ?

Now I have an account and the app. The app sucks, you can't keep track of anything, but it's something (I'm open to suggestions for better apps). Expect shitposting, my unrequested intercedings into 'hot topic' discussions, Dutch politics and how bad things have gotten here, long long posts about Chinese, Japanese and Korean fantasy novels, the occasional horny on main and just my general unfiltered bullshit.

I've stopped giving a shit about personal information so also expect photos of local features and maybe eventually a selfie. The internet will be completely locked down in a few years (and after that it will become unreliable due to power grid failures) so just enjoy it while it lasts.

[sunevial]

Prompt: Antil and Tarana moonlit walk

(submitted by Spooder via Discord)

---

Right as the clock hit ten, a knock came at the door. Tarana smiled, setting her reading aside and blowing out the candle. Slipping on shoes and grabbing a shawl, she cracked open the door to her humble little home. Standing there was a tall man, long coat and beaked mask marking him a doctor of some repute, holding a bag filled with all the instruments an alchemist would need on the roads.

If there was nothing else, she could count on Antil being punctual.

"Good evening, doctor," she said, stepping outside and giving a cordial nod.

He nodded back, motioning to the darkened streets lit only by a handful of lamps and the full moon. "Evening, professor."

Ladies first, though both of them knew she was anything but. Pulling the shawl tight around her thin shoulders, Tarana started down the road. The streets were safe enough to walk at these hours, through she was hardly concerned with anything that might try and cross their path. It is in darkness that monsters prowl, and both of them were far scarier than anything else lurking in the night.

"How goes your research?" Antil asked after a period of silence, turning to look at her.

"Quite well, actually," she said, gesturing with a gloved hand. "I've actually managed to pinpoint the very year I went, ah, missing as it were. Turns out there was a major shift in pottery designs within a single year, making it easier for us to divide up eras. It's been a major boon for the archeology community, you know."

"And your personal research?"

She grinned, showing off the sharpened teeth. "If I told you about that, it wouldn't be as fun, would it?"

He considered this for a moment, tilting his head back and forth as they passed by a cemetary. "I don't smell anything new on you, so that either indicates nothing has changed much in the past three months or you're trying to do something bigger."

"You have so little faith in me, Antil," she said, holding a hand to her heart. "Would I entertain these conversations if I wasn't going to be playing nice?"

Though she couldn't see his eyes, burning red and hungry, she could feel his stare boring through her body and skull. After their little stint in that wandering inn, Antil had made it a habit to track her down once every few months. Part of her did appreciate the company; it was hard to find anyone who was even remotely as intellectually interesting as the good doctor. Their talks had gone long into the night, one professional appreciating the company of another.

The other part of her knew that there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them. It takes a monster to know a monster, and Antil was the greatest hunter of monsters their world new, vampire or not. The moment she moved her research from theoretical to practical, to try and break free of this body she had been trapped in for what felt like eons, he'd slit her throat and trap her into something more sturdy than a body.

There were no hard feelings. It was just a professional reality.

Made things...interesting.

"You would, because you'd talk a dead man to his oblivion if you felt like it," he said, slipping off the mask and taking in a long breath. Pox marks dotted his face, some more infected than others, each marked with a colorful bit of ink.

"You look better than last time." She tapped her cheek, slitted eyes glancing over the various boils. "Found another cure so soon?"

Antil gave a slight nod. "Took a couple rounds of mutations, but it's staying remarkably stable. With any luck, me and the others will have a monkey fever inoculation ready for next spring. Giving myself another week or so before I test that round of injections, though."

"Have you tried black pudding for a stabilizer?" she asked, noting that they had looped around the block and were approaching her house once more.

"Tried, and lost two months of work to it," he replied, slipping the mask back on. "Ochre jelly is holding better, but we're working on synthesizing replacements."

She unlocked the door, twirling the iron key in one hand. "If you want, I have some older records on ooze use in potions and elixirs."

"Mind if I come in?"

"You know you always have an open invitation," she said with a grin.

She could feel the smirk. "Have to ask."

[mostly-marvel-musings]

I'm lurking in people's ask boxes today, making them horny. Marvel Boomer fandom mass insanity? More likely than you think.

Bonus gif in the comments once you reply to this. Tumblr doesn't let me add 😡🤬

"Come on, try and make me angry," Banner grits out, an arm thrown around your neck. You can feel the bulging of his muscles, the tension of his veins. He's barely holding back the force of the Hulk. "See how you like that!"

You want to laugh. You want to laugh in his face, and in Tony's, because they are just mortal men. Intelligent, capable, but at the very core of it, very simple human men.

"I'd listen to the Mean Green if I were you," Tony, of course, throws in a mocking remark. You've never experienced the joys of a quiet Stark.

"Well, mark me down as scared and horny," The look you give Tony and his suit is pornographic. That's your final decision: they will reap what they sow. You'd been minding your business, not hurting anyone - in fact, you've been having nothing but positive reviews, but for some reason, humans just couldn't comprehenda peaceful co-existing with a different species. "I've been alive longer than you, your fathers and your grandfathers combined. Why is it that human men always seem to think they deserve to have the veto power?"

Banner briefly stills behind you; you knew they'd assigned him to the task because his self-control is impeccable, almost good enough for him to be unable to be seduced. Tony's there for the opposite reason: someone had believed a good lover may make you inclined to surrender peacefully. Both of them, of course, were wrong. Neither satisfaction nor submission is in your nature.

"Well, we can't have demons just running around and sucking the souls out of civilians," Tony supplies conversationally.

You groan and then palm your face, not really struggling against Banner's iron grip. "I'm not a demon," For the millionth time in your long life, you spit out the acidic words. "I am a succubus. We do not kill or harm humans," You explain, feeling Banner's apprehension morph into stunned confusion. "That lie was invented by the Catholic church because it was easier to blame repeated infidelity on us rather than hold unfaithful men accountable," You spit out louder than you intend to; being a succubus, things like gender and sex didn't really concern you, but seeing how much it impacted the humanity, it had made sense to spend most of the time in your male form. Only the few past decades you've reacquainted yourself with the female form and the joys of being a woman still were few and in-between. Except the actual physical act of...

That's how you end up in Stark's and Banner's shared lab, wearing one of the former's oversized shirts with an IV and a neat little device that seems to be scanning all your vitals simultaneously. The technological babble is lost in you; instead, you focus on holding back the hunger that grows within you minute by minute.

"Are those numbers looking normal for your species?" Banner asks you, thrusting a tablet in your lap, eyes focused on a whole different set of screens. He is, by far, the kindest man of science you have ever met. Perhaps that's why you agreed to invasive testing.

"No," You can't help but sound grouchy. "I'm hungry," Predictably, the man blushes crimson. You'd explained, in uncomfortable detail, how exactly the feeding process goes down. Dr. Banner was nothing but polite and professional during the small interrogation; now, after the extended time spent in your presence, he seems to grow more and more susceptible to your natural charms.

Or, perhaps, your growing hunger is making the reigns to your self-control to be slippery. Banner accidentally catches your eyes and you see it instantly: the beast, the hunger of his own is doing the same thing. It's pushing against the rails, demanding to be released.

"I can't," He breathes, standing statue-still. "I'll hurt you," With every passing second, you feel the air in the cool room heat up and thicken.

"No, you won't," You're sure. "You can trust me," Neither of you notice how close your bodies are; one moment and his face is inches away from yours, his green-rimmed browns boring into your eyes that undoubtedly have adopted the deep crimson color of hunger by now.

The rest is a rush; his hands, holding you by the shoulders as he gives into his lust, his lips - surprisingly soft - and the noise of the buttons of his shirt hitting the cold tiled floors. There's no finesse, no time for proper foreplay as your hunger bleeds into him, fuels the fire to his all-consuming need.

It's been ages since you've felt someone resist you so strongly, so stubbornly, and it's delicious.

"M'not gonna last," He mumbles, unbuttoning his pants with one clumsy hand while the other noses at your soaking core. You look down on his thick fingers and gasp in surprise: they're big and tinted a fluorescent green, two of them enough to give a delicious stretch once they enter you.

Your face shoots up, finding the previously reserved man smirking in self-satisfaction. "Fuck, that's not... I need more," Is it the casual display of power or the rapid flip of attitude, you don't know, but it's doing it for you. The hunger pangs dull.

Banner's lips and teeth attach themselves to the crook of your neck as the unusually tinted arms drag you almost completely off the table and onto his cock; it's thick, veined and hard as a rock. You let out a squeak - something you considered previously to be above you - as he bottoms out in one single, sharp push of his hips.

"That good enough for you?" His voice had dropped a whole couple of octaves too. Green is steadily crawling up his neck. Your combined sweat stains his friend's t-shirt.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your experiment," Said friend, does, in fact, interrupt, but Dr. Banner only growls. You feel the smile he hides in your skin; you know the boys are just getting started.

After all, as a succubus, you're used to getting what you want.

What even... this is the first thing I’m reading in the morning. Well fuck 🥵