#pupper writes

[puppercupboard]

Summoning

Ship: Secondo/Dew Rating: Questionably NSFW Contains: Very Lite D/S themes, Non-explicit dirty talk, Cardinal Secondo(Referred to by Brama), Demon Dewdrop Summery: Dew is a mouthy brat even before becoming a ghoul. Unfortunately for him, he's also entirely unprepared for a human who knows what to do with that.

There was only one thing for certain about any summoning, no matter how experienced one was with doing them - they sucked. No matter how smooth they went - and they rarely did - they were taxing in a way that few other things were. They left one aching and sore on all levels, from the physical to the spiritual. Brama has known this since he was given that designation - a Cardinal’s name as reward for his first successful summoning. 

His older brother had put up more of a fuss than their father had about his volunteering for it - just more proof for him that Nihil didn’t care much for his second in line, not when his older brother was so clearly the favorite for taking over the papacy. And with his baby brother being the darling of the flock, Brama felt he need to step up his game. He’d not been talked out of it.

He had done a few of them in the years since then - just never for himself.

He was well familiar with the ritual leading up to the summoning at this point. The methodical bathing was handled himself, though overseen by a senior member of the church to ensure it was done properly. The apotropaic mark is paint across the span of his chest in cooled ash suspended in oil. The taste of flesh and wine lingers on his tongue even as he lays back in the sigil - as much a means of providing him strength as it was an offering to the demon that would soon be using him as a doorway.

The candles light one at a time, the last being left unlit for a brief moment while the woman guiding the event asks him if he’s ready. He nods, and bites back a playful remark as the last candle sparks to life. Instead, he closes his eyes and focuses on breathing, slow and steady.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drop hits him like a wave slamming into him at the waist, bending him in half and and dragging him under.

The water wraps around him fast enough that for a brief moment, he thinks that the demon already has him. Then he realizes that he’s not sinking, the water was just rising far faster than he’d anticipated. He feels weightless, surrounded on all sides by water that was just a bit too warm to be comfortable.

He turns to look over his shoulder, ensuring that he wasn’t going to be snuck up on, before turning forward again - just in time to see the rapidly approaching form of the demon that had answered his call. For a moment, he thinks the demon plans to slam into him full force, putting him on the physical defensive before he’s even had time to speak a word.

Thankfully, that doesn’t happen.

Instead, the demon’s slows slightly over the last few yards, enough to twist and swim around him in a circle - tight enough that he could reach out and touch the gorgeous fins. They covered the full length of the demon - short, if one didn’t count the added length of his tail - every one of them a pale, dusty pink that passed through pastel blues on it’s way to a purple the color of the night sky. He doesn’t get the chance before the demon’s face is back in front of him, all soft angles and features that were delicate but sharp - large eyes solid black, save for a ring of silver that could only be the iris with the way they surround his pupils. Hair paler than moonlight floats around the both of them as the demon gets settled.

Gorgeous.

“I want to offer you a position among my ghouls,” Brama’s voice echoes through the water, bubbles rolling up from his mouth with every word. A little off script from his usual offer to serve the church, but after seeing the demon that has answered his call, he can’t help but feel a little selfish.

The laugh that the offer gets makes him set his teeth in response. Cruel, but clearly made to echo through the water in a way that his own voice was not. “I’m not in the business of serving humans, what makes you think you’d be any different.”

The statement doesn’t phase Brama - he doesn’t know any manner of demon that would answer a summoning and wasn't willing to serve humans, however complex the standards that one might have to meet to earn that service. He’s sure he’s up to the task, even if he’s not quite as sure he’ll have the time to prove it. Water ghouls were a time sensitive process, after all - the apotropaic mark paint on him protect him from actual possession. It did nothing to protect him from drowning, whether that be the demon’s doing itself or just because he’d spent too much time talking.

“I could make it more than worth your while.” Brama’s tone doesn’t waver, even as the demon shifts and begins to swim around him again, wider circles - no longer close enough for Brama to touch.

A shame, maybe he should have taken the chance when he’d had it.

“Drowning you could be worthwhile too.” The threat is clear in the tone that the demon uses. Clearly, he wasn’t one to appreciate vague promises.

“You’d get nothing out of drowning me but the pleasure of doing it once.” The bubbles stop, a sign that the timer has started ticking down.

“Once might be all you’re worth.”

The demon has a mouth on him, that’s for certain. But he almost seemed to be all bluster - fluffing up like a betta fish flaring at anyone who passes the tank. “If you thought that, then why haven’t you drowned me already?”

The demon whips around to get in Brama’s face, white hair just as puffed up by the motion as the large fins that he flared wide. He seems quite a bit bigger that way, and those teeth he bare at him were certainly sharp. Brama doesn’t flinch, though. If he flinches, the pretty demon might slip through his grasp - or worse, make good on that threat to drown him.

His hand lifts as quick as the water allows, and he grasps the demon’s face - gentle but firm, keeping his fingers out of the way of those teeth. He can feel the tiny scales that cover the demon’s face, iridescent in the light streaming down from above them, hitting every tone in his fins and then some.

“You don’t want to drown me.”

The confidence with which he says it might be undue, but he's not going to waver when he can see that he's thrown the demon off. Perhaps entirely off, if the way that his flared fins fall still and his eyes start flicking back and forth - probably trying to figure out which eye of Brama's he should be looking at.

He settles on the white one.

"No, what you want is proof that I'm not going to roll over because you got a little mouthy."

If he fucked this up now, he might actually drown whether the demon intend to do it himself or not. That was a threat looming over his head that he's not unaware of, but if he showed weakness now, it would be a sure end to the negotiations. The demon would slip from his grasp and he'd have his first unsuccessful summoning. He can't have either of those things happen.

"Nothing to say to that?" The question is rhetorical, and he doesn't give the water demon time to answer. Not that he's sure that he could get his thoughts together that quick regardless. "Good, as pretty as you are, you're even prettier when you're minding that tongue of yours."

The demon looks like he’s not quite sure how he got here. Silver irises are like thin rings of light swimming in darkness, mouth slightly agape. He looks good like that. Brama imagines that he would look just as good on his back, hair fanned over the sheets and moaning.

He leans in a bit closer, the demon’s eyes tracking him the whole way. He’s close enough that he could have kissed the demon’s cheek with ease. He’s also close enough that the demon could have put those teeth to use with great effect. 

The demon doesn’t even try. He’s got his undivided attention, and he was living for every moment. He could feel the water rushing past his gills at this distance - an odd sensation but one he would gladly get used to if it meant more time around the demon in his grasp. He had potential, and that attitude meant that he’d be unlikely to show just *anyone* what a diamond in the rough he was.

“Why don’t you behave yourself for me. Come be one of my ghouls, and let me show you how well I can handle a pretty thing like you. ” Brama’s free hand wanders down the length of the demon, starting just under his pecs and moving along his slender waist to the Demon’s hip. No sense in not touching him, if he was going to be playing up the seduction to secure himself this demon. Even if he didn’t he didn’t, and the demon decided to run off, he’d have at least gotten to feel the lean frame of the demon under his hand.

“I know you can be be a good boy, Dewdrop. Come with me."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The cardinal’s body arches off the shape burned into the wood beneath him. Brama’s eyes fly open and he twists, turning himself onto his side as he coughed up water - the taste of sulphur and salt linger in his mouth well after he’s stopped. No meat or wine in the mess he’s made, only water. A few hacking coughs later, and he looks across the room where the offered body had been laid out.

The candles around the both of them had been extinguished, and while Brama had been coughing up water, the new ghoul was instead sitting in a puddle of it, mist settling around the small, silver haired form that was looking back at him.

He smiles, self-satisfied, and he wonders if the taste of salt water will linger in his mouth with this ghoul as the taste of charred meat had lingered with the last one.

[muffinlance]

Isopuppy Sewn Pattern Update: At long last, I've found time to get back to working on this! AKA I didn't feel like writing this weekend so LET'S GO SEWING YAY.

Current status: I have the final pattern worked out (plus or minus some seam allowance adjustments) and I've moved from junk fabric to final fabric. Hoping to get a good way into cutting/construction tomorrow. Unless I feel like writing. Who knows! Not me!

[celtic-crossbow]

Well, I was researching, but now I present to you the reasons chapter 28 is not yet finished.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn Additional Tags: First Kiss, First Meetings, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Blind Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody Loves Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, The war happens immediately after Naboo, Aka I moved it all up 10 years, Obi-Wan gets knighted, POV CC-2224 | Cody, Mostly anyway but the first bit is Qui-Gon because plot, Cody is very confused by Obi-Wan at first, Obi-Wan Kenobi Loves Tea, Fluff, Sparring, By which I obviously mean the pin your lover down to the mat and kiss them kind, Competent CC-2224 | Cody Series: Part 22 of Codywan First Kiss Bingo, Part 3 of te nuhaatyc’la jetii bal kaysh gehat'ik'e (the blind Jedi and his stories) Summary:

Qui-Gon lives after Naboo and he and Obi-Wan are thrown into a war that no one is prepared for, complete with an army of clones, one of whom becomes very close to his Jedi Commander.

My fill for "kiss on the corner of the mouth" for Codywan First Kiss Bingo @codywanfirstkissbingo​

And more importantly, happy (if slightly belated) birthday, @crc-jedi-knight-serushna​!

Bingo card under the cut!

[lunaetis]

[ this is an official semi-hiatus notice bc i think this week and upcoming week or two would be really demanding work-wise. i'm sure you guys can already notice the activity drop & lack of ic content on my end. work & stress had affected my writing mood & i hope to remedy that after the workload lighten a little in a week or two ! sorry for the delay & thank you for understanding ! ]

[abushelandablog]

THESE ANGLES HAVE RUINED AND REVIVED ME GOD SIR LEWIS HAMILTON THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

[momosandlemonsoda]

The next chapter is up! Li Lianhua is still reeling from that cover--Fang Duobing really knocked him for a loop.

So many thanks to @bbcphile, who helped immensely on this part. My brain was not cooperating, and she helped spark ideas to take it in the right direction.

[shroudkeeper]

25. prompt / call it a day

Every night she would return here, under a veil of starlight and crowned by silver moonglow. Lilac hair spilled around her like silk ribbons made undone when she entered her domain. I could hear her, the delicate chime of her kanzashi filled the silence with its captivating melody, rousing something in the air that I could not wholly see.

Her body is spent for the most part, yet a smile on her face shines through the dark framing her; it puts me and Kumo at ease when she slips inside the futon next to us.

Each night I make sure she returns, that either she arrives of her own volition or her clanmate, Hayate, recovers her. When she awakens, she should be in her own room, surrounded by her family, protected by us. As long as she was resting by morning's light, all was well.

Lately, the evenings stretched far too long as of late it felt. For several nights, in a row, she had not returned until the very glimmer of sunlight peered past the world's edge. I would wait regardless, hoping I was not to lose another master in such a short time. I was suspicious that weeks of little news had finally pushed her to pursue him.

I am worried that she wearing her body down to the point that she is neglecting herself and shifting her focus solely on her duties in the daylight hours, then vanishing when the sun begins to set. Rest had been an afterthought for her and I can sense the anxiety building around her with each passing day that she returns with less knowledge of his whereabouts than she started off with.

Tonight she arrived earlier than usual; we had not expected it, and though glad I was to know she had returned before dawn's break, the alleviation died the moment I laid eyes on her. I witnessed a flower wilting under the gloom of the shadows, shielding herself from the flickering glow of the lanterns.

Her hand is trembling as it brushes between my ears in greeting, but as it parts from me, she attempts to conceal her face, to not let me see that she is on the verge of tears, that she is still trying to fight back the emotions surfacing within her.

She was in pain, seeing her this way only made my own heartache.

Without needing prompting, I knew that she was surrendering to her mounting exhaustion, that her physical and mental state had finally reached its breaking point. Tonight I will be her comfort while the world is asleep, Kumo and I will support the weight she bears tonight and allow her this moment to simply call it a day. To let herself go, to breathe, to rest.

What good would she be to herself, to Master Fitzgerald, if she ran herself ragged?

[skyloftian-nutcase]

dirt

"Wolfie, no!" Wild yelled, but it was too late - the little pup had already fled from the bath he and Twilight had been giving it and immediately started to roll in the dirt, wiggling excitedly.

Both young men sighed heavily in exasperation.

[prismaticpichu]

Weenie Hut Jrs anti-Nibelheim request!

Flock of puppies🐶

Nibelheim Roadblock #2 ~ “Flock of Puppies 🐶”

Omg that is GREAT!! Ahhhhhh <3333

~

No one could believe their eyes.

No one.

No. One.

And it was a completely, utterly rational response too. Anyone else would have had the same reaction had they been watching the spectacle unfolding before them—them, as in one Zack Fair, one Cadet Cloud Strife, one other sadly irrelevant SOLDIER, and one tour guider Tifa Lockhart. To all four of these nonplussed individuals, the great dome of reality itself was starting to seem mighty suspicious.

Because the sight of General Sephiroth, melted to his knees, absolutely swarmed by a litter of Nibel wolf pups as he struggled to stroke and fondle them all, was not exactly something one could prepare themselves for.

“Gaia… look at those eyes…” No one had ever heard such raw, heartfelt fondness in the General’s tone before, two strong gloves squishing the cheeks of one of the slate-shaded pups—a pup whose tail was nothing but a whipping grey blur, wagging and smearing against the garnet sky that blanketed their morning.

“Ruff!”

“….Unbelievable,” Cloud breathed through his helmet.

“Can you believe this?” Zack folded his arms, watching now as the slaty pup rolled onto its side to receive a series of loving tummy rubs.

“No, I really can’t.” Cloud looked at his friend. “That’s why I said, ‘unbelievable.”

…How had this happened? How…? How had their unmovable, stoic leader possibly devolve to such a squishy state…?

Well, for one thing, it only happened about nine minutes ago. And what did happen was really just a perfectly-aligned amalgamation of over-efficiency, convenient timing, and a heart that was caught by surprise.

————

About 9 minutes ago

They were just about to cross the bridge when he heard it.

Sephiroth stopped in his tracks, bristling, snapping one hand in the air like an armored traffic cop to halt the rest of the squad behind him. Somehow he had managed to walk ahead of their designated tour guide and take the reins; either way, though, those reins were his, and the rhythmic sound of boots crunching into dirt froze all at once behind him.

“…What’s going on?” Cloud asked his friend, having hung in the back of the train with Zack.

“Seph senses something,” Zack answered easily. He blinked towards the General, well-accustomed to his odd and somewhat spooky ways. “What’s up, buddy?”

Sephiroth didn’t respond; he just merely narrowed his eyes, focusing on the sound—on what had plucked his attention. It was faint, yes…. distant… but there was an underbelly of aggression. A veneer of something violent. And that was enough for concern.

He wasn’t about to let another monster ambush them like that dragon had. He wasn’t going to fail again.

The graceful song of metal echoed through the air as Masamune was unsheathed. Sephiroth turned his head, turning towards the source of the sound—a small, natural barricade of jagged rock.

“Alright, we tackling something?!” Zack lit up with a smile, reaching behind his back for his own hefty sword.

“No.” Sephiroth stopped him before his hand could make it. “You stay back; keep the others safe.”

And before Zack nor the others could protest about their adequate survival skills, Sephiroth made his way over to the rock formation.

The sound got louder, the closer he got. More defined. Sharper.

A snarl.

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes further, shifting his blade in his hand, pearls of raw daylight scintillating off the metal as he reached the slab of stone. As he reached it, and slunk around it, and prepared to—

…

…

…

Well, one could probably predict what happened next.

———

“Shouldn’t you, y’know, intervene or something?” Tifa cast her own glance to the spiky SOLDIER. “We kinda got a job to do.”

By now, all the puppers were on their backs, Sephiroth running his gloves over the combined terrain of their fuzzy bellies as they kicked and squirmed and chirped with all sorts of playful barks in a hopeful plea that the massage wouldn’t stop. Zack’s eyes softened to dough.

He’d never seen Seph look like that before. Never seen him so… so… relaxed. So calm. So at ease. So open.

He’d never see him smile like that.

So much warmth flooded Zack’s heart then, as he caught sight of the soft, genuine curl on Sephiroth’s lips. It was veiled, yes, discrete… but he could still see it. And it was the biggest smile Seph had ever given.

No…. he couldn’t pry that happiness away from his friend. He wouldn’t. He’d let Seph cherish every second of this, even if they had a “job” to do. Gaia knew Seph did enough as it was.

“Alright, new plan!” Zack clapped his hands together, grasping everyone minus Sephiroth’s attention. “Me & Tifa are gonna head to the Reactor ourselves. Spiky and, erm… other guy, you stay back and keep an eye on Seph.”

“My name is Carl!” the infantryman corrected.

“We… we have to watch over the General?!” Cloud added with obvious confusion. “Isn’t that—“

“Yes you do!” Zack chirped. “No telling what kinda danger Seph’ll miss while he’s infatuated by puppies.” He didn’t wait for another response before whirling back to Tifa, smiling like the rising sun behind them.

“On we go!”

———

The trip to the Reactor went smoothly, all things considered. Genesis showed his face when they got there—Ifrit knows why—and completely blew up upon hearing that Seph got sidetracked by puppies. Anyway, guy eventually flew away and they fixed what needed to be fixed no problem. Bridge was a little wobbly on the hike up and back though—prolly couldn’t handle more than two folks. But they made it across just fine, both ways, and the sun was just beginning to descend as they rejoined the rest of the squad.

And lo’ and behold, Seph was still playing with the puppers.

Whatshisname had fallen asleep against a rock, Spiky still standing on-guard as instructed. But he did look tired. And bored. And kinda numb.

Alright. Prolly time to pack it up.

“Hey, buddy.” Zack started towards his friend, all the wolves having fallen fast asleep against his lap in a myriad of different positions. Sephiroth glanced up to meet him.

“You ready to go back yet?”

Sephiroth returned his gaze to the sleeping puppies, silent. It was clear what was unspoken in the air between them, what plea was being made.

“I know you don’t wanna leave them, Seph.” Zack kneeled beside him. “But….” The words twisted his heart, knotted his tongue. “We gotta go back. Reactor’s all clear.”

Sephiroth blinked slowly, letting out a sigh, looking back to the swathes of grey draped all over him.

“They… trust me,” he said then. “They know… I won’t hurt them.”

Zack was quiet for an undeterminable amount of time. Nothing seemed right to say, really. Not in that moment.

No wonder Seph got so attached so quickly. He had found someone—multiple someones—who weren’t afraid of him. Who didn’t run away, who didn’t flee when catching sight of him. Who didn’t assume the worst.

He didn’t want to let that go.

Doughy eyes melted even further. “Seph…” Zack leaned closer to him. And then, a soft smile of his own graced his lips, raising his arms to gently wrap around his friend’s form.

“Hey…. I trust you…” he said softly.

Sephiroth could only blink again, this time in surprise, in confusion, the tender weight wrapped around his upper body too delicate to make him stiffen.

Tifa and Cloud watched on, struck incredulous all again.

“…The folks back home are never gonna believe this trip…” the girl muttered.

Zack held his older friend’s figure and gaze, gazing deep into the emerald eyes rippling with awe of their own.

“See? I know you’re not gonna hurt me,” he said with a lingering smile. “You’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

…Never.

Sephiroth blinked again—and again, and again, and again, swatting away any remnants of glass trying to invade his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Aha! I’ve found you!”

And before any words could leave, a crippled blur of crimson and black shot down from the sky, alighting with a stirring of dust and stones as the figure collected himself and straightened.

“Genesis!” Zack shouted indignantly, tightening his gentle hold upon feeling Sephiroth bristle. “What you want?!”

“So you think you can hide from ol’ Genesis, do you?” He let Zack’s question ricochet from his ears, sailing towards the still-sitting Sephiroth—Sephiroth, whose eyes were narrowing by the second, a grid of slightly uncanny teeth flashing into view. Think you can avoid your fate by… by what?” He squinted for a closer look, looking at the snoozing fuzzballs. “Babysitting wolves?”

“Stay away from them!” the warrior snapped darkly. “I’m warning you, Genesis.”

It would have been a little more intimidating had he not been sitting criss-cross applesauce, but he digressed.

“Oh believe me, I’m not here for your whelps.” Genesis not so subtly eyed Zack, who didn’t have time to think of a retort before continuing on. “I’m simply here to inform you about something. Something that is LONG overdue.” He strode closer, closer, a certain haughtiness pulling at his leaden lips as he shouted,

“You, Sephiroth, my old friend, are a—

And just as Sephiroth had been rudely interrupted moments before, just as the words had been pried from his lips, every wolf snoozing on that warm leather coat snapped awake then.

—monstaaaaaaaAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

And every wolf proceeded to lunge at Genesis then, an entire stampede of grumpy Nibel puppies proceeding to chase the shrieking auburn across the mountains and out of sight.

Tifa and Spiky exchanged a Look.

Sephiroth, meanwhile, sat flat on the ground, staring off into the horizon that had taken his friends away.

“Goodbye…” he mumbled quietly, completely stripped of the fluffy, fuzzy, indescribable warmth that had been enveloping him just moment before.

Well… not for long.

Zack rewrapped his arm around the crestfallen warrior’s shoulders, that gentle smile resurfacing as Sephiroth turned again to face him.

“Let’s head back to town,” he offered kindly. “I saw a really cute wolf plushie in one of the windows—and, well… I just soooooooo happen to have brought souvenir change.”

It took a few beats, but Sephiroth smiled.

[puppercupboard]

Intricate Rituals

Ship: The Trapper/David King Rating: Explicit Contains: Dry humping, Manhandling, Power Struggles, Fighting As Foreplay, Marking/Possessive behavior, Fooling around in exchange for Hatch Summery: The Trapper and David have been dancing against one another for several trials now. Trapper thinks David has slipped through his grasp one too many times, and decides to rectify the situation.

There was something quite different, Trapper thinks, about the difference between David’s desire to fight for his friends, and David’s reckless want to go down swinging. He could hear the hatch, hear it singing with the promise of freedom for David should he only reach it. Trapper didn’t intend to let the man slip through his grasp easily, though. He would need to work for it. 

Some prey ran for their freedom - David liked to fight for his.

He circles the arrangement of rocks like he’s waiting for something. He is. David hasn’t found the hatch yet, hasn’t found him yet, and there’s nothing for it but to wait. With the way he makes regular passes by the hatch, it might seem like he intends to close it the moment that David showed up - using it as bait to lure his quarry out and the trap that sealed his fate.

He knows better. 

David might know better too, if he’d ever stop and think.

He never does - David is a man of action and hasn’t the patience for thinking. He’s seen the way that the doubt sets in when David stops and thinks. David doesn’t want that doubt to settle in. Neither does Trapper.

The Hatch continues it’s singing, even when Trapper passes by it again like some great beast stalking it’s cage. He can hear the rustling of grass when he pauses this time, just loud enough to be heard, but from all the wrong direction if David was intending to sneak past him all together.

He smiles, behind his mask - more of a sharp grin than anything gentle. The expression was as rough around the edges as he was, and nearly as hidden by the mask as his eyes were. Here he came.

He turns towards the sound of David’s footsteps when they suddenly increase in pace, and with just enough time to grab David’s sleeve as he rushes forward. David’s momentum keeps him from stopping him by his clothes, so he swings him around instead. Prevents the impact and puts some distance between them by using David’s own momentum to throw him. With space put between the two of them, his cleaver is wedged solidly into the tree growing by the rocks - it’ll make things last longer.

David lunges at him again, predictable as ever. This time he doesn’t throw him away. He throws him down, against the hard earth of the sanctum. David doesn’t shout, but he does make a sound like he’s had the air knocked out of him. Trapper doesn’t wait for him to recover, and instead drops down on top of David with a quickness and a sound that might make someone think he intends to maul him.

The struggle between them is never something that David gives up on with any level of ease. From the moment that Trapper is upon him, David is trying to force him off and fight his way to freedom. The hatch is right there, after all, and if David can get to it, he can get back to the campfire. If he is safe at the campfire, then Trapper does not get this. David doesn’t get this, either.

Trapper suspects that’s the reason that David dives for him, rather than the hatch.

Even when he’s managed to get settled between David’s thighs - he’d gotten a knee to his gut for the trouble of it all but David isn’t trying to take the fact that he’s not pinning his legs to escape, either - David doesn’t settle down any, bucking against him, heaving like he’s not quite gotten the chance to catch his breath after having it knocked out of him. The first punch swung his way is caught, and Trapper leans over his prize as he pushes that hand over David’s head and into the ground.

David is far from helpless under him, even half-pinned like this. His other shoulder comes up and the punch he delivers splits knuckles against the bone of his mask. He even thinks he hears something crack, but can’t tell where it comes from. It also shoves his mask hard and fast enough against his face that he tastes blood, his lip having split against the teeth inside his mouth. His heart rate spikes - not from the pain or anger and certainly not out of fear. That had been a good one. Well aimed. Well timed,

He growls, a wet sound with the addition of his blood in his mouth, putting weight on David’s arm as he does, and he thinks he feels David grind against him, though he can’t quite tell if it's intentional or just a result of their close quarters. His other hand pins the arm that had hit him by the elbow, and splits his weight between the dirt below his knees and David’s arms. David thrashes against him, and cusses up a storm. Trapper’s masked forehead hit’s David’s brow with a crack that makes his own ears ring.

It subdues him well enough, and for a moment, there’s only himself and David. The ringing in his ears. The sound of their breathing. David’s is smoother than his, even ragged and heavy as it was. He’s not sure if the blood on David’s face is David’s or his own. He wishes he had more hands so he could pin David by the throat and lick it off.

He’s the one who starts the kiss - tilts his head so that the teeth of his mask are pressing into David’s skin and he can reach David’s mouth past them. He’s pretty sure, when he does that, that it’s his nose that gave the crack earlier. It’s not the first time it’s been broken. If he continues this ritual with David, it will not be the last. He’s too high on the moment to be bothered with it.

The kiss is just as rough as what lead up to it. More teeth are involved than just those of his mask, and those of his mask dig into David’s mouth. Little pinprick bruises dug into flesh, matched by the parallel lines of his mask’s split jaw that digs into David’s chin. More a sign of who David had been kissing than if he’d used the teeth in his mouth to mark him. He’s getting his own bruises, too, David bites and sucks at already bleeding lips and is rewarded with a growl far less a threat than the ones that came before it.

If either of them had hands free, as they have in past encounters, this would be the part where they start pawing at each other. The part that had, until now, been happening against Walls rather than against the ground. The part where, too often, David had gotten him into the moment and just distracted enough by a hand cupping his cock through his jeans that it had end in him running away before they’d finished.

And he wanted, badly, to know what David sounded like when he came. 

It’s David that starts the grinding - thighs squeezing at Trapper’s hips and hips bucking in search of friction. Two layers of denim dampen the sensations, but it’s still more than enough to have Trapper roll his hips back. He shifts his position, half forcing David to shift with him so that the tent in the front of his overalls can find the bulge in David’s jeans.

The way that David sucks in air so suddenly is a beautiful thing. Cool air rushing past both of their lips and into David’s lungs. Not the response he’d expected when he thrust against him, but perhaps David hadn’t figured out that he wasn’t in this just to get himself off. Hadn’t expected him not to just grind against his ass and let him go when he was finished.

Maybe, Trapper thinks, he should fix that.

He’s far from gentle with it. Despite the layers of rough denim between them, he grinds against David almost as if he was trying to rut a furrow in the ground with the action - every bit as unrestrained in the way he was thrusting against David’s body as he was in the way he kissed him. Then again, if David wanted him to be gentle, then he wouldn't regularly start things by fighting him. 

Trapper doesn’t think that either of them would have as much fun with it that way.

His arms ache and his shoulders hurt. Earlier impacts from palettes and earlier impacts of Survivor's elbows across his back don't make the wounds hurt less. Neither does the way that he was holding himself, shoulders tensed to provide an anchor for the way he grind into David. 

It's worth it. More than worth it, just to feel the way that David tries to rock back against him. To wring every little sound from the man under him like water from a rag. He swallows most of them, but with the biting and heavy breathing no small number of sounds reach his ears from the outside as well. They're rough and deep but delicious when they fill the air between their mouths.

Trapper moves a hand - the one pinning David's elbow - and grabs David's thigh instead, pulling him up harder against him, as if there were any space left between their hips to close. David's hand grabs his overall strap, tugging on it like he could close that space between them too.

It doesn't work, if only for the height difference between them. Trapper growls again, and punctuates it with a particularly rough thrust against David. He is well rewarded - the grunt that David gives in response dissolves into something else entirely. Trapper continues, and David tenses, thighs squeezing his hips harder. The sounds, sweet and lovely enough that he presses their foreheads together instead of their mouths, gets strung out into whines and whimpers he didn't think David could make.

All he can see this close - with his forehead pressed to David's and their breathing mixing quick and ragged between them - is how tight David's eyes are shut as he cums, but oh can he hear him. His lion cussing in a tone that might have been called choked if it wasn't so damned loud.

He's not far after, a mess being made in his jockstrap and only being spread as he continues to grind into David until it's hard for him to stand the stimulation. He stops, and David's thighs finally go slack around his waist as he raises up, sitting between spread legs and admiring his handiwork as David catches his breath.

David was a mess, bruised and cut from the Trial. It contrast sharply with how nice his lips looked - kiss swollen and such a pretty shade of red. Darker even than the marks where his mask had dug into his face. Those were all hard lines and sharp edges, telltale lines above and below his lips and down his chin that matched the pattern of his mask. Distinct, and all Trapper from their appearance to their making.

Where their hips had met were wet patches of denim, dark stains that he knew were a little too conspicuous in size and placement to be possibly blamed on puddles. He's proud of his work, from the cumstain he's made to the blood - his blood - that's smeared over David's lips and the dirt that is no doubt ground into the back of his shirt.

David goes to sit up, and Trapper puts a hand on his chest and pushes him back down with a growl. A kiss less toothy than its predecessors is pressed to David's swollen lips. Seeming satisfied with that, Trapper raises back up, and nudges David's thigh with a huff. Silent permission for him to leave that David takes.

Even if he is a bit wobbly kneed as he gets up and stumbles to the hatch.

[eclipsecrowned]

if i had a nickel for every time i was encouraged to roleplay a canon guy i actively crave to ship with my oc, i'd have so many nickels. it keeps happening. i have so many nickels and so few ships.

[celtic-crossbow]

Yesterday was better. Met a pupper I’ll be dog sitting for a few days. Did a little bit of writing. Not much but that’s better than nothing at all. And then came home to pupper cuddles from my own fur babies. This one is mummy’s leech. My little shadow. Service dog in training, Tyrion. Little dude doesn’t have to even try and makes almost anything better. 💙

Sleep time and then maybe a full day of writing tomorrow.

[feylived]

my dog’s playing ‘no I don’t want to come inside, I’d rather spend the next hour out in the cold’ and im so tired pls

[lunaetis]

vacation hiatus. ( 7-15 oct )

i'll be going on a one week vacation to osaka during the time ! ic activity would be kept to minimum as i'll be 100% mobile bound. i'll be scarce both here and on discord. proper writing is unlikely until i get back ! but i'll pop in here and there whenever i could. pupper loves you all and will be back to cause chaos on your dash again after the 15th !! pls take care of yourself and hope you have a wonderful week on your end !