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#I had to kill you in my mind because I loved you
hxney-lemcn · 2 days
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Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader
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summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.
tw: none that I can think of.
a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3
wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)
Master List
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You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.
Riddle Rosehearts
Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).
Leona Kingscholar
…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his. 
Azul Ashengrotto
Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.
Kalim Al-Asim
He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).
Vil Schoenheit
Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.
Idia Shroud
Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.
Malleus Draconia
Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.
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Genshin Men and Their Flower Language(s)
ᡣ𐭩 Summary: Every flower has its own language. What flower language do these genshin men have?
ᡣ𐭩 characters: Zhongli(150), Childe(151), Diluc(182), Kaeya(141)
ᡣ𐭩 Warnings: Fluff, wholesome, a bit angst in Diluc and Kaeya's part
art belongs to @/eriimyon on X/Twitter
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Zhongli
Baby's Breath-Everlasting Love
As a former archon, he has seen people come and go. He had learned to accept it years ago however when he first met you, he once thought that you were out of his league. But you proved him wrong, you took your time understanding him. You were there whenever he talks about his stories even if you do not like history, your attention is always on him. You make him feel loved no matter what he does on a daily basis. Yes in his eyes, you are his silly lover and his one and only. He knows that he will outlive you and he will miss you dearly so if he had any flower to give you daily is baby’s breath because for you, you are his everlasting love. Even if you pass on to the afterlife, you will be forever in his memories and his one true love.
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Childe
Gardenia- You're lovely, Secret Love
You are the secret love of Childe. You know that he is a harbinger and you know he loves to battle but Childe for him, seeing you after he got home from a tiring mission had brightened his day. Childe knows that he brings danger and harm to you so he keeps you a secret from his enemies. His family loves you and his siblings love you to death. In Childe’s mind, you are one of the reasons he is still kicking, the reason for him to smile..the reason to come home in one piece. Every day when he comes home to you, he always gives you Gardenia flowers yet you do not know what it means. You bugged him about it until he revealed it. “Gardenia flowers means you are lovely or secret love, mia amata.” Childe says with a smile. “That means you are my lovely secret love.”
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Diluc
White Rose-I am worthy of you
Diluc Ragnvidr is the man with few words, a private person, and a man with walls to protect himself from others. To stop himself from being hurt by another loved one's death but with you, all of that is out of the window. With you alone, he is very attentive despite his nightly duties. He always makes sure to put your needs before his own. You both made a routine to give each other flowers whenever you two see each other either in privacy or in private. Your flowers is always the red rose but Diluc’s rose is white roses. You later ask Lisa what the white rose means and you were surprised to say the least. White roses means innocence and purity, you’re heavenly, secrecy and silence and I am worthy of you. Diluc was in a surprise when you hugged him, killing him with your kisses and saying to him. “Thank you, my nightly Knight.” This makes the poor man tear up and embrace you in his arms. You are both worthy of each other. Never let each other go.
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Kaeya
Orange Blossom-Eternal Love
Who says that even the broken can fall in love? For Kaeya, it is him. He has been hiding his pain with a sly smile and the flirtiness, hiding the turmoil in his heart. To Kaeya, he thought that he would be alone in this world where nobody loved him nor understand until you came into his life. Kaeya was wary of you at first but after some time, he realized that you did not have any ill motives towards him. You understand him, love him for who he really is despite what others said about him. You make his life worth something and if he had to pick a flower to describe you. It would be an orange blossom flower. Even in a different universe..even if you are gone from his life, his love for you will be eternal.
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~Taglist: @areislol @purpleqilinwrites @amxto @yoghurtsan @ryuryuryuyurboat @windblume-wishes @thestarswhisper @the-guardian-kitsune @sanzach @asoulsreverie @inkybloom-luv @ainescribe @kitsuvil @dxmoness @kalims @mccnstruck @dailypenpen @husky-studies
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lordprettyflackotara · 15 hours
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if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo
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SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)
“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”
Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.
Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.
“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.
It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.
“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.
“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.
“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.
And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.
“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.
“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”
That’s it.
You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.
You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.
You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.
A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.
“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.
“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.
“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.
Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.
The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.
You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.
Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.
Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.
He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.
The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.
“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.
Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.
You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.
“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.
“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.
Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.
With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.
“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.
“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.
His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”
You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.
“Yeah?”
“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“Hey Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”
You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.
“You heard him, be quiet next time,”
“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”
The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.
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bonefall · 2 days
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I know you don’t rewrite arcs until they’re done, but I love hearing about your early ideas while I brood over how badly this arc has let me down. Do you have any like super vague ideas about Splashtail’s motivations yet? He’s like a way worse Hawkfrost in my mind, because they’re both very young cats who Are Just Evil. But Hawkfrost had a genuinely interesting backstory that the Erin’s simply fumbled, meanwhile Splashtail is a cartoonishly evil atheist. I feel nothing towards him, he’s not intimidating or interesting or even funny. Save me Bonefall save me (if I got something wrong please ignore it, these books are so disappointing my brain is making me forget them to protect itself.)
If it helps at all, I'm staying sane with the observation that Hawkfrost is a high charisma character making critical failure rolls, while Splashtail is a cringefail loser with no stats rolling nat20s. He becomes 50% more sufferable when you imagine a long, pungent pause after anything he says, broken only by the sound of an offscreen player tossing some dice. When the silence is broken, it's whatever NPC has been charmed speaking in the beleaguered voice of the dungeon master.
SO my early thoughts are shaping up to be that I'd like to do a slightly more serious version of that.
BB!Splashtail is the Clan equivalent of a 19-year-old, desperate for more power and respect in his society. In terms of his stats, he's promising but not outstanding. A decent fighter, a competent leader. Even in terms of lineage; his father is Sneezecloud, a respected trader and negotiator, but his mother is Havenpelt. An ex-rogue who has sworn to live by the ways of RiverClan.
Curlfeather is the one with the plans. She's the one with vision. Daughter of Reedwhisker, grandchild of Mistystar, with grand leaders like Bluestar, Oakheart, and Crookedstar in her past, greatness runs in her blood. Scandal, too-- but for some reason it's acceptable that her great-grandparents were codebreaking traitors.
Splashtail hates Curlfeather, but he can't get anywhere unless he tries to be her. He steals HER plans. He acts like SHE does. Manages to snatch power from her paws, and then has no idea what to do with it.
I'm thinking that I want his reign to be going smoothly at first, actually, going from a bit of a bossy jerk, to trying to enact Curlfeather's ambitions by launching fights and doing it badly, to active tyranny as he tries to keep control over RiverClan. Depending on how Star goes, I might have Berryheart make some kind of move to seize power over him.
At the core of how I see him though, is that Splashtail has no plan. His ideology leans Thistle Law... in a sort of dumbass 4Channer kind of way. He talks a big game about the glory of battle, but folds fast when his enemy can punch back. The only person he could successfully manipulate was a traumatized child. He will bring back pureblooded glory to the Clan, except his personal family of course
As for the Evil Atheism stuff... lol. Lmao, even. Not needed. If I need to make him a more powerful and serious danger, it's not going to come from the fact he's godless. If being an atheist gave you super murder powers, Bill Nye would have used them to obliterate half of the US government by now.
Depending on how the last book of ASC goes,
The Harelight kill is probably going to get changed to Hallowflight. Harelight watches his dad die, and Splashstar is drenched in the blood of one of RiverClan's most famous heroes. No turning back after that.
On that note I'd also make the fight longer and bloodier. A butchery of an execution showcasing Splashtail fighting like a beast and Hallowflight like a trained warrior.
I REAALLY want to make Splashtail's death a drowning. Curlfeather, demon she is now, finishes him off by dragging him under. To protect her daughter. They will have to do something VERY satisfying for me to not do this.
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timetothirst · 2 days
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Almost
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN reader
Inspired by this post that hasn’t left my head since I first saw it
Tags: Canon typical violence, you almost die, Ghost is soft in his own weird way, confessions, everyone needs therapy, i’m not British but i’m using British slang because it’s Simon’s POV, if i got any military stuff wrong no I didn’t, sad Ghost
Rating: M for violence and language
—————
You were dying when Ghost realized he loved you.
It started the same as it always did whenever he had to meet someone new, with a quick handshake and a short introduction before he inevitably found an excuse to walk away as soon as possible. He didn’t dislike you, not necessarily, but he was no social butterfly. You were just another face to him, that was all.
Until you weren’t.
He was having trouble sleeping. That was nothing unusual, though. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d got a full eight hours without some kind of interruption, whether it be an owl outside his window that wouldn’t shut up, an inability to get comfortable because of the countless aches in his body, his thoughts just being too damn loud, or something else entirely. Whenever this happened, he’d make his way to the common room and find some way to kill the time while he waited for everyone else, maybe even get breakfast started or put the kettle on if he was feeling nice.
It was on one of those nights, after he’d finished rummaging through the fridge looking for a decent snack, that he saw you. He went to sit on the couch, and there you were. He didn’t realize it was you at first and tensed up, instinctively reaching for his combat knife (which wasn’t there, of course, since he was in his sleep clothes). At first he was baffled. How did he not notice you coming in? He wasn’t losing his edge, was he? Letting his guard down?
But then he saw the half-eaten packet of crisps in front of you and realized you’d been there the entire time, sitting in the dark, in complete silence.
“Fuckin’ hell…say somethin’ next time, yeah?” He told you, finally allowing himself to exhale.
“Sorry, I didn’t know whether or not you were going back to your room, and I didn’t want to bug you, so-“
“S’fine.” He interrupted with a wave of his hand, sitting on the opposite end of the couch and grabbing the remote.
—————
“Am I missing something here? Why’s he acting so weird all of a sudden?” You asked, staring at the screen in confusion. This was the third question you’d asked in as many minutes, but Ghost didn’t seem to mind. At the very least, he wasn’t giving you death stares or walking away from you, so you figured it was okay.
“Pon farr.” He stated, not even glancing over.
“Am I supposed to know what that means? It sounds like a weird disease…” Ghost side-eyed you as you said this and scoffed quietly.
“No, it’s not a- look, just watch, will you? They’re about to explain it.”
You rolled your eyes, but did as he said anyway.
“Oh my god…so, he can only have sex once every seven years? And if he doesn’t, he’ll just…get really pissed off and fuckin’ die?” You laughed in disbelief, then ate the last of your crisps and tossed the empty packet into the trash.
“Nah, Vulcans can mate whenever they want. Pon farr’s just a biological thing that causes…well, s’ called plak-tow, but it translates to ‘blood fever.’ Means they’ll go mad if they don’t-“
You couldn’t help but snicker, slapping your hand over your mouth with a snort when Ghost’s head snapped toward you. He looked at you with an expression that could melt steel, which would have scared you shitless under any other circumstances.
“…Seen this one.” He grumbled as an explanation, looking away from you and back at the TV screen. He crossed his arms, his face hardening into its usual scowl.
“Yeah, I can tell.”
You spent the rest of the night asking Ghost increasingly complicated questions about the show, and despite his exasperated sighs and frequent eye rolls, he answered every single one.
—————
He just kept running into you, it seemed. Sparring, target practice, and of course, your late night binges of Star Trek, whenever the two of you happened to be up at the same ungodly hour. You sat on your designated couch cushions and laughed at the awful special effects as Ghost told you to ‘shut it and watch,’ though he was sure you could see him smiling through the fabric of his mask.
As much as he hated to admit it, as cliché as it sounded, his days really were a bit brighter with you around. You filled the silence when nothing else did, joked with him, spent time with him…he’d even noticed a few little things you had started doing, things that were specifically for him. Like the night he’d taken out a pack of smokes, only to realize that he’d lost his lighter. He groaned in annoyance and went to put them away, but then, there you were, holding out a lighter of your own, the small flame reflecting in your eyes.
“The lads and I must be a bad influence, eh? I swear I remember you tellin’ me that you don’t smoke.” He’d said to you after rolling up his mask just past his lips and taking a puff of his cigarette.
“I don’t. But you do.” You replied casually, shrugging as if you’d just said the most obvious thing in the world.
“And with the way you keep losing your lighters everywhere, you’re probably spending half your paycheck replacing them!” You added, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.
Ghost rolled his eyes and told you to piss off, but he never bought another lighter after that.
—————
Price started pairing the two of you together on missions; citing the fact that you got along, as well as the way your combination of skills made you effective and deadly in the field. You were a good team, that was all. You got things done, and you got them done well, no matter the circumstances.
And then everything went to shit.
You had already suffered a dislocated shoulder and pretty bad slash wound, both to your dominant arm, so you were stuck clutching a pistol in one hand while the other dangled uselessly at your side. Almost all of the enemies had been taken care of at that point, but you were making a final sweep of the building in search of any stragglers.
Two seconds. Two goddamn seconds he looked away from you, but that was all it took. Five gunshots rang out in short succession, no doubt from an assault rifle of some kind. You screamed, shot a single round from your pistol, and two bodies thudded to the floor.
Ghost’s heart dropped. He charged into the room, looking around frantically. As badly as he wanted to rush to your side right that second, he knew he had to assess the situation first. He’d be of no use to you if he was dead, after all. The first thing he noticed was that you were breathing, and your attacker wasn’t, probably because they had a sizable hole in the side of their head. Ghost dropped to his knees next to you, trying to calm himself enough to properly check your wounds.
You looked so small lying there, curled up on your side with your face contorted in pain. A shudder wracked your body, blood beginning to pool as Ghost placed a hand on your shoulder. He gritted his teeth and turned you over. As expected, you screamed bloody murder, the movement causing your body to be jostled.
“Shit. Shitshitshitshit-” He muttered, his hands hovering over your body. Before he dared to do anything else, he reached for his radio.
“Bravo 0-7 calling for immediate medvac. Repeat, immediate medvac.” He spoke, unable to hide the tremor in his voice.
“Acknowledged. Requesting location.” A voice crackled over the speaker. He barked back your coordinates, along with an order to hurry the fuck up before disconnecting and turning his attention back to you.
“This is gonna hurt.” He warned.
He undid your vest, and his large hand immediately made contact with the most serious of your injuries, that being the bullet wound in your side. He pressed down hard in an attempt to staunch the bleeding as best he could, and your scream of pain was enough to make him feel as though he’d been shot himself. You seemed too shocked to speak, your breath coming out in short gasps, punctuated by anguished sobs.
“Shh. I know, I know…hey- look at me, yeah? Just keep lookin’ at me.”
Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he felt helpless. But here, now, as he stared down at you, it was the only thing he could feel. He wished he could be angry instead, but right now there was no one to direct that anger towards. Your attacker was lucky you’d managed to kill them before he got the chance to, or he’d have beaten them into a pulp with his bare hands and left them to rot where they fell as punishment for even fucking looking at you.
“Ghost-” You croaked out, your bleary eyes focusing on him momentarily. He shook his head.
“Simon.” He whispered, his own name feeling foreign on his tongue. You stared at him in confusion for a moment, but then your eyebrows raised and a look of realization appeared on your face.
“S…Simon?” You repeated. He nodded, tried to smile at you despite everything.
“Yeah…Simon.”
You smiled back through your tears and let out a laugh that quickly turned into a pained wheeze. “That bad, huh?”
Simon didn’t reply. He didn’t trust himself to. You’d see right through it if he lied, he was sure of it, but if he told the truth, he knew he’d break down on the spot. Instead, he gathered you into his arms and curled around you protectively, trying to keep your body warm to prevent shock.
With a start, he realized that this was the first time he’d ever held you.
“I think m’just gonna…rest for a few minutes, if that’s okay…” You breathed.
As he looked down at you, it was clear that you were struggling to keep your eyes open. He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, clutching you tighter and burying his face in your hair.
“No, no, no…not you. Anyone but you.”
Simon Riley had never been a religious man, but he prayed then. He didn’t know to whom he was speaking, but it didn’t matter. He only asked for one thing.
“Don’t let them die. Not here, not now. I’ll do anything. Give them more time. Take me instead if you want. I’ll go in their place, just let them live. Please.”
He knew he didn’t deserve you. He always had, really, but that didn’t mean you should be taken away so cruelly. You should have something so much better than this, better than a cold concrete floor slick with your blood and a man like him trying to hold you together while he himself was breaking from the inside out.
“H-Hey…”
Your voice broke through the haze, and he cursed under his breath, quickly wiping his eyes and lifting his head to look at you.
“Fuck. Sorry, I- i’m right here, love. I’ve gotcha. Nothin’ to worry about, yeah?”
You just nodded. Your eyes were barely open now, your chest still slowly rising and falling with your breaths. You felt around for his hand and grabbed it, the silence seeming to last forever as you considered your next words.
“…I’m really glad I met you.” You finally said.
“Don’t. Don’t start sayin’ shit like that. Makes it sound like you’re-“ He exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut.
“I can’t fuckin’ do this, alright? I know I can be an ass, and I know i’m not the best at sayin’ it, but…I need you.”
Simon looked down at you. You weren’t moving.
His time spent waiting for medvac to arrive was a blur. He held you tight, begged you not to leave him even though he wasn’t entirely sure whether or not you could hear. And when the medics did finally show up, they practically had to wrench your limp body out of his grip.
He had to take a separate transport back to base. he sat alone and stared at his hands, watching your blood slowly dry.
——————
Simon lurked outside the door to your hospital room like- well, a ghost. When the doctors finally deemed you well enough to take visitors, he was at your side, like a loyal dog lying at its master’s feet. He held your wrist in a loose grip the entire time he waited for you to wake up, his thumb pressed against your pulse point so that he could be sure your heart was still beating.
It felt like ages that he waited for you. He didn’t even know quite how long he did, actually. He only left your side once, and that was for a shower in freezing water where he scrubbed his skin raw because he was unable to stop seeing the red covering it.
When you finally stirred beneath him, Simon thought he was dreaming. He stared at you with a mixture of disbelief and blind hope, and then you finally opened your eyes. After days, he finally felt like he could exhale. He let himself fall forward, his head coming to rest on your shoulder as he shook ever so slightly.
“God…don’t you ever do that to me again, got it? Thought i’d lost you.”
You reached up and started to rub circles into his back, choosing not to mention the fact that your hospital gown was damp with tears.
“Simon, I-“
He shushed you, rolled up his mask and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple.
“You made it, that’s what matters. You made it back t’ me.”
“And I always will.”
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illdowhatiwantthanks · 18 hours
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The Lentil & The Blueberry (The Surprise, Part 2)
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Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, NSFW, sex, fingering, mention of vomiting (for my emetophobia babies), established relationship, fluffity fluff, worried Emily has my whole heart Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: Weeks six and seven of your pregnancy are underway, and you are struggling. But maybe not as much as your wife? Wildly overprotective Emily will do anything to help you feel better during your pregnancy. And I mean anything. 😉
Week 6: The Lentil
Emily had known about the baby for less than 12 hours, and she’d already gone into full Overprotective Dad™ mode. You’d slept in the morning after telling her, jerking awake to find Emily towering over you, watching with her eyebrows furrowed.
“Jesus, Emily!” you exclaimed, stretching. “You scared me!” You glanced at the clock. “Don’t you have to be at work?”
Emily continued staring, a look of deep concern on her face. “I really don’t want to leave you here like this.”
For a brief moment, you forgot you were pregnant. You scoffed. “I’ve had jet lag before, babe. I think I’ll be okay.”
“No! Pregnant.” She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly running her hands through your hair as you moved to rest your head on her lap.
“I’m fine, Em,” you assured her. “I’m a little tired and sore, but that’s probably just from moving.”
“Maybe I should call and tell them I can’t make it in today…” She was speaking more to herself than to you.
Your voice was stern, decisive. “You can’t take off work for nine months just to sit around and watch me be pregnant. Even if you could, I’d rather you take the nine months after the baby’s born.”
She sighed deeply, looking down at you as if she was making the hardest decision of her life.
“You promise to call me if you need anything?” she asked.
“Promise.”
She gently placed your head back on the pillow, then knelt down in front of the bed so her eyes were level with yours.
“Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she whispered. You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, to make herself feel better about going to work, but she was too worried about you for it to sound anything other than terrified and pitiful.
“Like what?”
“Ladders, lifting things, falling in the shower...”
“Well, I wouldn’t fall in the shower on purpose,” you argued.
“Just…” She leaned forward and kissed you so gently, so softly, running her thumb slowly along your brow bone. “Be careful. Be safe.” She stood, then leaned down to kiss you on the head one more time.
“I love you,” she said, then lifted up your shirt to kiss your stomach. “And I love you.” She shot you one last desperate, anxious look before leaving.
“Promise you’ll call?”
“Go, Emily.” You shooed her out of the room, laughing. Who would’ve guessed that managing your wife might be the hardest part of being pregnant?
Week 7: The Blueberry (18+)
You leaned back into Emily as the warm water swirled around you, the sound of the jets and the movement of the water soothing your aching body. Morning sickness had started in full force, and your abs were sore from mornings spent heaving over the toilet. Your head was killing you most of the time, and you were constantly bloated. All in all, the first trimester was kicking your ass.
Emily kissed your shoulder, pressing her face next to yours and wrapping her arms around you to gently cup your breasts, mindful of the pain you’d been experiencing.
You sighed contentedly as she ran a thumb lightly over your swollen nipple.
“Better?” she asked.
“Mmhm,” you nodded, eyes closed. When Emily had called this afternoon to check on you, you’d told her how gross you felt from puking all morning, how sore your body was. She’d stopped at Bath & Body Works on the way home to buy every single kind of bath bomb they sold, just to be sure you’d have a fragrance that didn’t make you feel sick. She’d brought Epsom salts and fancy body butters and a new candle because the one you usually had in the bathroom smelled like coffee, and coffee triggered your gag reflex right now. She’d come determined to do whatever it took to help you feel better.
“And to think you said paying more for an apartment with a fancy jacuzzi bathroom was, and I quote, fucking dumb.”
“I take it all back,” you said, whining softly and involuntarily pushing your hips forward as Emily continued circling your nipples, her touch light as a feather.
“Honey,” Emily breathed behind you. “You can say no, but…” Her breath was hot against your ear. “Can I touch you?”
Your body wanted it, but your mind was struggling. “I don’t know, Em…”
Emily gently turned your body around so she could look in your eyes, her thumbs running back and forth along your hands. She leaned close, placing a hand gently on your cheek.
“It’s okay if you really don’t want to, but..” She watched you squirm a bit under the water. “It feels like you do. Can you tell me what’s going on in your head?”
You avoided her eyes, following a stream of bubbles as it made its way around the tub. “I don’t feel very pretty…” you mumbled, looking away.
“What?” she said, and you couldn’t tell if she hadn’t heard you or if she couldn’t believe what you’d said.
“I don’t feel very pretty. I feel gross.”
“Y/N.” Her voice was heavy with love and care and you felt a little like crying, not because you were sad, but because she loved you so much it was overwhelming in your current hormonal state.
Emily pulled you onto her lap and wrapped her arms around your body, pressing kisses into your face and neck. “You are so pretty. What are you talking about?”
“I’m pukey and bloated and my hair is greasy because I’m too tired to shower,” you confessed, resting your head on her shoulder. “I feel disgusting.”
“Baby,” she said, chastising you and gently guiding your face so you had to look at her. “You’re beautiful. You’re growing a whole human right now. You’re incredible. You have never been more beautiful to me.”
Almost unconsciously, you started to grind your hips into Emily’s, your breath coming fast, rhythmic. You sighed, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck.
Emily grinned. The words were working! She left a trail of kisses along your shoulder, placing her hands on your hips to guide you.
“You are stunning, Y/N. You’re growing eyes for our baby this week, did you know that?" She thought for a moment, morbid curiosity getting the better of her. "I wonder what it looks like in there…”
You stopped abruptly, as if a record had been scratched. “Not sexy, Emily. I don’t want you thinking about what the inside of my uterus looks like.”
“Sorry,” she replied sheepishly, an embarrassed smile playing on her lips. You pressed your hands to the side of her face and kissed her, your body hungry for hers for the first time since you’d returned from London. You couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough.
“Emily,” you said breathlessly, pulling away to look at her. She was nearly as out of breath as you were–and significantly more flushed. “Touch me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Please.”
You whimpered as Emily’s thumb brushed over your clit, the warm water soft and comforting around you. She rubbed slow, indulgent circles, sensitive to your sensitivity, and your hips rose to meet her each time, even as exhausted as you were.
She kissed you deeply, passionately, her tongue desperate and gentle as it roamed your mouth, your neck. You moaned into her as she slipped two fingers inside of you, your body pulsing urgently around her. She kept her hand still for the most part, letting you control how hard, how fast, how deep.
As your breath grew ragged and your body clenched, surging against Emily’s, she moaned into your mouth, pressing into you. “Oh, god,” you breathed, Emily’s sounds nearly driving you over the edge.
“Come on, baby,” she begged, gasping. “Come for me.”
You drove your hips into Emily as your body convulsed, whimpering while your orgasm washed over you like a waterfall of static electricity. She fucked you through it, only removing her fingers when your breath started to calm and you fell against her, spent.
“Feel better?” she asked, kissing the side of your head, and pushing a string of wet hair out of your face.
You nodded, still too out of breath to speak.
You dragged yourself into a sitting position a few minutes later. “Here,” you said, clearly exhausted. “Let me do you.”
“It’s okay,” Emily told you, grinning.
“I can,” you insisted, pulling her toward you for a kiss.
“No, Y/N,” she said, laughing a bit as she pulled away. “I’m good. As in, I already came.”
“What!?” You giggled, blushing a bit. “Jesus Christ, Em! You were horny as fuck.”
She blushed and kissed you again, then poured some shampoo into her hand and grabbed your head playfully. You sighed happily as she massaged it into your scalp.
“I can’t help it,” she shrugged. “Look at you. Your boobs are fucking huge right now.”
“Well, don’t get used to it.”
Emily stared at you for a minute. Your soapy head. Your arms crossed defiantly over your chest. The slight pouch in your stomach that she knew would grow into her child. The way your eyes shone, holding so much love, so much purity of spirit and heart. What had she done to deserve you? She felt tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and she used her thumb to wipe them away.
“Are you crying?!” you asked, leaning forward to take her hand in yours.
“I just love you so much,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion.
“Oh, god,” you complained, sniffling yourself. You had a hair trigger for crying these days. “If you cry I’m gonna cry.”
She exhaled firmly. “I’m pulling it together, don’t worry.”
“I love you, too,” you said quickly before dunking your head under the water to get rid of the suds. And because if you thought about it too much, you'd start sobbing and god knows when you'd stop.
You popped back up, flipping your hair over so you looked like a founding father. Emily laughed, and all was right in the world.
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Text
More BG3 Quotes because God has forsaken his creations
Tav: So, how have you been?
Durge: Oh, you know, doing fine! But lately there has been a darkness growing within me.
-
*At Baldur's Gate, confronting Gortash*
Durge: WOAH, WOAH, WOAH. Hold up, were- were we a THING?!
Gortash: *gasps* You remember dearest?!
Durge: ...Holy shit I had horrible standards.
Gortash: ...what?
Durge: *turning to Astarion* Babe, look at this. I must have had, like, rock bottom standards back in the day 'cause this is embarrassing.
Astarion: I know, darling, but you've certainly improved since then.
Gortash, fighting back tears: I'm right here you know.
-
Halsin: So, enlighten me, how did you get a harem of both Karlach and Minthara?
Tav: Oh, it's not my harem. It's Minthara's.
Halsin: ...eh?
Karlach, carrying Minthara piggyback over a stream: Got you over, doll!
Minthara: Thank you, dear one. Where is the male? I require foot rubs next.
Tav: COMING DEAR!
Halsin: ...Well they seem happy?
-
Jaheira: Why are Lae'zel and Shadowheart facing away from each other?
Gale: They had a fight.
Jaheira: Then why are they holding hands?
Gale: They get sad when they fight.
-
*at the Temple of Bhaal*
Orin: Aw, look at it. It's mind meat is all twisted up. Have you forgotten the way home, slaughter-kin?
Durge: ...I remember it all. I remember a little girl I tried to protect from father's voice. I remember my beloved niece who I would have eviscerated the world to protect. I remember trying to shield you from the path I walked. I held you, nurtured you, I LOVED you and cursed the fate that Bhaal had given you! *chokes back tears* I wanted to SAVE you!
Orin: I DO NOT NEED SAVING!
Durge: ...No, I suppose not. *summons their staff to them* I'm going to end this, Orry. I'm going to kill you, spill your blood across this altar and then- then the world will finally be safe. From you. From US. It's time to end this Orry. I'm sorry. I love you.
Orin, tears of blood running down her cheeks: I DON'T! I HATE YOU! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!
Durge: ...I'm sorry, Orry.
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imyourbratzdoll · 2 days
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I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.
hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.
summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.
warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man. 
You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.
“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)
“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.
“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.
“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”
Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him. 
It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you. 
“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.” 
He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup. 
You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces. 
“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”
“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes. 
Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?
A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips. 
He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.
“Do you mean…?!”
Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.
“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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harkonnin · 2 days
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* The heart is not meant to rule *
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader
Slow burn, knife kink, blood kink, strangers to lovers, softer!Feyd-Rautha, CONSENT, 18+, arranged marriage, assassination, poison, murder, etc
Previous Chapter - Resurrection Current Chapter - Never lose me
***
It had been a few days after Feyd left to go back to Giedi Prime, wedding preparations he said. He didn’t leave you much time to bond after the kiss, nor did he have need for a conversation about feelings. You attribute it to his upbringing, assuming Harkonnen don’t talk about their feelings at all. So, you stow away yours for now.
*
Feyd wanted to make haste, he wanted nothing more than to stay on Caladan and ravish you before the wedding, but he also respected his duty and the rules involved with an arranged marriage. Should he break those rules, he wouldn’t be able to marry you. Intercourse before marriage wasn’t frowned upon, it was downright illegal. He had to put a distance between the both of you before his feelings could settle in the pit of his stomach and he lost all control.
*
A few weeks pass while Feyd is busy sorting out all the legal business, talking to servants to import certain items from Caladan, and even requesting an answer from you concerning your wedding dress and the sort. You receive the message during a sparring match with Duncan, who has been training you extra hard upon hearing the news that you were going through with the marriage.
He sees your face contort after a member of the staff gives you the message and asks what you want to respond with. It felt so, indifferent and impersonal, a message as black and white coming from Feyd, no love to be found, no greetings, just a demand. You frown as you respond to the messenger and turn back to Duncan, sighing.
He stays silent for a few moments, until the messenger leaves.
“I know it is not my place Lady, but do you mind if I give you any advice?” he sounded sincere and worried.
You nod at him, curious.
“Please don’t marry Feyd. I know it might seem like a good idea, if we’re speaking about bloodlines and dukes and barons, but… you should be with someone who loves and respects you.”
He got closer to you as he spoke those last words, his hair partially stuck to his face because of the sweat of battle. He extended his hand for you to take, and you did. Feeling anything at all was better than the dryness that got stuck in your throat when you received Feyd’s ‘demand’.
“Duncan, I-…” you trailed off.
You didn’t want to admit that you liked Feyd, it wasn’t love yet, but there was a certain attraction between the both of you. You wanted to explore this, even if it meant being married for a different cause. You just felt insecure after he left so fast, seemingly taking all the sweetness away from the moment you shared before.
Duncan pulled you into a hug, somehow knowing exactly what would help at this point. You felt his heart beat fast, faster than usual. He gave you a kiss on the forehead and continued to talk.
“Feyd has no idea how lucky he is. Should he ever try to hurt you again, I will intervene.”
He lets you out of the hug and takes your hands in his and goes onto one knee.
“If you ever feel doubt know that I’ll be here for you. I love you, Lady Atreides.”
He says as he kisses your hand. The confession feels heavy but sincere. You had no idea Duncan felt like this, you had always just assumed he was a man with his heart on his sleeve, loving all the Atreides family, because he had just always been there for you all. But a proposal?
“Oh, Duncan, I-“ you say as you feel a tear starting to roll over your cheek.
He comes back up and cups your face in his hands, wipes away your tears and kisses your forehead, and returns to hugging you. You softly sob as the heat of the older man gives you the comfort that you needed.
“I know.”
*
Feyd is struggling to get everything sorted, there’s a lot more shouting and killing of servants going on right now. He wants the wedding to be utter perfection, no place for errors, this includes everything you should bring or prepare. He shouts at a servant to ask about your wedding dress, and to make it quick. This explains why the message sounded so cold and demanding when you received it. The Harkonnen were anything but subtle with words.
He had been in and out of meetings concerning the festivities and he was about one more question away of killing another servant. He hated this, hated that he had to do everything, make all the choices, he should’ve just asked you to come along, but rules forbid. Curse the rules, he thought.
For an arranged marriage the people involved wouldn’t be allowed to see each other for a month before the marriage, this is to allow both families to prepare everything and make sure that the couple still wanted to get married. Also to get all the political things in order, most of all.
Feyd had 5 minutes of peace before he had a meeting with yet another person involved with the wedding. He was staring out at the arena and somehow missed simpler times like that. His momentarily peace got disrupted, however. A servant asked for his attention, it was Tula. Feyd knew how fond you were of her, so he promised himself that he wouldn’t hurt her. She was however, testing his patience at the moment.
“My Lord Na-Baron, I have a message for you, from Lady Atreides,” she spoke quietly.
Feyd shot up and took the message out of her hands, read it and a frown came over his face. Your reply was very formal, much the same as his question, or demand, felt to you. Yet he didn’t expect it to be so… dry. He looked up at Tula for a second, almost questioning her why your message didn’t sound nicer. He thought he knew you a bit more than that at least.
“My lord? Are you ok?” Tula questioned, seeing his face contort in several ways. “Fine,” his voice all gravely, he even sounded tired.
Tula started to walk away but then suddenly came to a stop. She considered the sentence she had on the tip of her tongue before finally saying it. As she turned back, Feyd looked up at her.
“My lord, … I have also received more information about Lady Atreides.” Her eyes trailed off, suddenly aware of the stare Feyd was giving her. “Speak.” He spit out. “… it appears that Lady Atreides has received a counteroffer for marriage, from Duncan Idaho.”
Feyd’s eyes narrowed into slits. Unaware of his next action, Tula wanted to make sure she would live after giving him the bad news, so she continued.
“Lady Atreides has declined his offer however,” she had no proof, but she also felt like you wouldn’t just bail on everything that had happened between you and Feyd.
She assumed you would say no to Duncan, considering the position you were in. A wild bet, to save her own life.
“Is that so…” he trailed off, started to stalk around Tula.
He took out his dagger and started to play with it, she feared for her life.
“It seems like I will have to teach Duncan some manners in the future.” He looked at Tula and then his dagger.
He reminded himself that the time would come where he got his revenge on Duncan and sheathed his dagger again. Tula almost sighed in relief.
“Send a message to Lady Atreides, tell her I look forward to making her mine soon.”
The implications where there, both innuendo and not, and Tula made sure she left as soon as she could.
*
When you receive the message, you’ve just finished bathing and are in a comfortable robe, hanging out on your bed. The staff member leaves the message in your hands and lets you be for the night. As you start to read the message you realise it’s from Tula. She tells you Feyd found out about the proposal from Duncan and wasn’t happy about it. She also conveys his own personal message to you.
“Make me his? Who does he think he is!”, you talk to yourself.
The way he talks to you ever since he left was very different from how he was on Caladan. No softness anymore, the Harkonnen in him had returned. You were sure that planet had something to do with it, Caladan was far more relaxed than Giedi Prime was. You decide not to answer him, it was only a few more days before you travelled to the planet yourself, so a response could wait.
You wonder if Duncan’s proposal had something to do with how cold he sounded in the message. You assumed it did, you didn’t see Feyd as an insecure person, but knowing how close you and Duncan were, anything could happen. You just hope Feyd doesn’t go ham on him and kill him. You fear that will be the only outcome, however.
You didn’t want to admit it, but you missed Feyd. It made you insecure to not have him around you. What was he doing right now? Did he also miss you? All these questions came floating to the surface as you kept thinking about him, and his hands, and his lips. And how strong he felt when he was holding you close, how his hands moved to your lower back and your legs, how his hot breath felt on you in the damp wet grass.
You instinctively open your robe thinking about him and start to touch yourself. You wanted nothing more but to feel him all over you, feel his hot mouth on your entrance. You imagine that your hands, are his, as you circle your clit. You insert two fingers and start to pump, cupping your breast in the other hand. You felt his erection as you sat on top of him, panting, and you think about how big he was, how he would stretch you, how he would make you his.
His cold words from the message now circle in your head, as you imagine him saying them out loud, whispering them in your ear from behind you, as he’s taking you. You come hard, thinking about him enveloping you, not stopping until you’re completely ripped at the seams. You imagine him holding you after, kissing you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, as you drift to sleep.
*
Feyd is having another night, however. His insecurity takes hold of him the night before your arrival. You hadn’t replied to his last message from a few days ago and he imagines you might just give up on the entire wedding, and so, give up on him. He keeps thinking about how he can convince you to marry him, what he would do to Duncan should he ever see the man again, and his anger boils inside of him.
He has thrashed his room already, broke a few chairs and killed a few servants, but nothing seems to help. A servant reminds him of the box they took with them from Caladan and he remembers the rose oil he took from his chambers. The servants draw a bath for him, with water, and put the rose oil in it. As soon as he enters the bathing area he relaxes. It feels like you are in there with him, soothing his fears and feelings, and calming him down.
He's not one to let his guard fall, but he drifts off into a soft sleep while he lay there. He dreams of you, in the damp grass, on top of him, under him, in any way he wants because it’s his imagination. He reassures himself that all will be fine once you’re here. He wakes and gets himself cleaned off. Before he goes to bed, he sprinkles some oil on his bed sheets, so that he would at least feel as if you were with him that night.
*
You travel to Giedi Prime on the day before your wedding. The rest of house Atreides would arrive later today. As you arrive you are greeted by a few servants, and you react with glee once you see Tula. You hug her and forget the differences in culture for a while before letting her go and straightening yourself. She has a soft smile on her face, however.
“Let me show you to your chambers, Lady Atreides.”
She walks in front of you as the other servants with your bags follow suit. As she ushers you into the room and your bags are in it, she closes the door and turns herself to you.
“My Lady Atreides, I fear I have a confession to make.” She looks strained.
You take her hands in yours, and you ushed her to sit down on the bed. “What is it, Tula?”
She shifts her eyes up at you, guilty for some reason.
“I was the one who told Feyd about the proposal from Duncan. I wanted him to hear from me, because I was afraid he might hurt you, should you have told him. I’d rather he hurt me, than you.”
You’re somewhat shocked but not for the reason Tula might think. She risked her life for you, knowing Feyd, he probably did end up hurting her.
“Did he hurt you?” you look at her, worried. “N-No, he did not actually. He only mentioned that he would have to punish Duncan, that’s it.”
You sigh, happy. But you’re also surprised he didn’t lash out at her. A mere servant in his eyes, what would be one more or less. Maybe Feyd was more perceptive than you thought.
“Tula, you did nothing wrong. You were loyal to your Na-Baron. I understand. I think Feyd will notice that I declined the offer if he sees me in a wedding dress tomorrow, we’ll be fine.”
You notice she had some tears forming in her eyes, so you decide to hug her, and she lets it all out.
“I hope he deserves you, Lady Atreides.” She tells you in between sobs.
It was the sweetest thing any servant had ever told you. You hope he still wants you as something more than a political pawn. Insecurity creeps back in as you prepare to go to bed before the big day. You wonder if he has any interest in you anymore as you drift off to sleep, worried and anxious.
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alice-after-dark · 20 hours
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A Twist on the Standard RadioStatic
Not gonna call this a headcanon just yet, but it's a concept that has been swimming around in my brain.
Standard RadioStatic tends to go something like this: Alastor and Vox were friends, Vox caught feelings and confessed to Alastor, Alastor rejected him and fucked off for 7 years, Vox is now bitter and obsessed (insert details and personal preferences as you will).
Now while I typically think the falling out was both their faults (see this post), I have read some fascinating takes on alternative ideas to this norm and it has given me some thoughts (I am sure this is far from original, but screw you I'm having fun).
TW for abusive relationships, possessive/controlling behavior, victim blaming, and other canon-typical triggers. Contains abusive StaticMoth.
So imagine...it's Alastor who catches feelings. And he has no idea what to do with them. All he really understands is that he likes being around Vox and dislikes being away from Vox and he GREATLY dislikes anyone else showing any interest in Vox (more than one Sinner has been devoured for such a daring offense). He does not enjoy these feelings, no thank you sir. They make him confused and flustered and off balance and that is simply unacceptable. Of course this is Alastor, so he doesn't really process that what he's feeling is love. It translates more into a possessiveness in his mind. As far as he's concerned, Vox is his. What that means...best not to think too hard on it. It's hardly an issue anyways, with Vox always by his side like an excited puppy.
Until he's not.
Valentino slithers his way into the picture and this makes Alastor furious. Valentino is everything he hates; he's abusive, chauvinistic, disrespectful, and utterly full of himself. He can't stand that Vox is giving this walking shit stain the time of day. Vox learns very quickly not to bring up the moth demon around Alastor because he can fucking feel the hostility coming off Alastor in waves whenever he does (he doesn't understand why, of course. Val is perfectly charming to him. Okay, so maybe he loses his temper every once in a while every other fucking day and says some nasty things but he always apologizes...). And fuck forbid they are ever in the same vicinity. Vox has had to come between them on more than one occasion to stop a fight from breaking out. This of course only makes Alastor even more hostile because why is Vox protecting that wretched excuse for a demon? These encounters usually end with Alastor angrily taking his leave of both of them for the rest of the day. He ignores that so very loud part of his mind that protests leaving Vox alone with Valentino.
The breaking point comes when Alastor sees Vox's cracked screen for the first time.
Vox insists it was an accident, that Valentino didn't mean to. They just got into a small argument and Val can get pretty animated when he's upset and he didn't mean to shove Vox like that and it was Vox's fault anyways for continuing to push when he knew Val was mad he should have just given him space and Alastor is not listening anymore. He's heard this song and dance before. He's seen it played out before his very eyes. He will have none of it and WHY THE FUCK WILL VOX NOT JUST LET HIM KILL THIS FUCKING MOTH?!
Alastor loses his shit. He goes on a tirade about Valentino. This is not the mere hostile exchange of barbs Vox has seen between them before. This is pure unadulterated vitriol. Vox always knew that Alastor and Val didn't get along, but Alastor has never once let him see this absolute hatred he has been harboring for the moth demon. He has never seen Alastor's demeanor break like this before. He flat out demands Vox to never see Valentino again. They start to argue. Vox doesn't understand what is happening.
"Why the fuck do you think you get a say in who I'm friends with?!"
"B̃ͦͧEC̸͎ͯ̓̀Ą̨̼̠ͧ͜͝U͉̟͎̔ͩS͐E Y̢̦͂O̸͖U͗'̿ͮͪ̒̐_R͎͗̉̒Ḙ̑ M̵͔̱͂́ͭI̳N̯̲̝ͯ̄E̳̤͎ͯ̓ͬ͜!͙̪"
"I'm...what the fuck?!"
Because Vox doesn't understand what Alastor is saying. Fuck, Alastor doesn't understand what he's saying. He just wants Vox as far away from Valentino as possible and Vox is just not listening. Why won't he fucking listen?! And then it click with Alastor what he just said to Vox and the panic starts to set in and he feels vulnerable and exposed and he's not even sure why but he doesn't like it and it needs to stop now so he does what Alastors do best. He attacks the cause of those feelings.
He starts mocking Vox. Viciously. Goes for every weak point, every crack, every loose thread. He tears into him, shredding him down and spitting out the refuse. Did Vox really think he cared about him? That he was special? That he was ever anything more than a source of amusement? How fucking hilarious.
Vox attacks him and the rest is very messy history.
TLDR Alastor basically confessed in a very Alastor way because what are feelings and well fuck he's eating them, then panicked and proceeded to handle his vulnerability in a very Alastor way, Vox took what he said at face value and did not react well to being insulted, and Alastor took it as a rejection (even though he didn't entirely understand that that's what he was feeling).
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int3rnetprincess · 2 days
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Omg completely down for mean!stalker Leigh, I've got sum idea like they're in a same group right? And then reader kind of sharing what she'd lost and her being abused by someone and Leigh going out her way to ruin this person who abused reader like my mind goes brRrrrrRRrRttttt,,,
RAAAAAHHHHHH I LOVE UR MIND
Leigh got used to seeing you in the group, but noticed you never had anything to say. It had been months since you joined, and you never uttered a word unless it was to her.
but this one particular time, the group decides to push you into saying something. Reasoning that “it had been months” and “you should be comfortable by now,”
after further insistence you caved and told everyone your losses, receiving a few pitiful hums and understanding nods. Then, you explain how speaking in public was only a new fear you had developed from an abusive relationship, also mentioning you had only gotten out of it several months prior.
you didn’t need to get into detail, you didn’t really want to, but your body language spoke volumes.
someone hurt you so much you were afraid to even talk? leigh started to imagine what you must’ve went through, someone hurting you when you are such a sweet, precious thing.
this made leigh lose it, a killer, almost animistic, instinct coursing through her. you could see it.
“what was their name?”
leigh questions, her hoarse voice filling the silence. you were shocked seeing her anger, she always acted as if she never liked you. you figured it was only because she lost her husband and she was just grieving in her own way, needing a little push to make some new friends.
“Lexi.” you say quietly. the tension in the room was electrifying, everyone could see it. you saw a few people shifting uncomfortably in your peripheral, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from hers. the look on her face made your heart beat ten times faster. you couldn’t tell if it was nervousness or excitement.
“Let’s take a break and eat some food, yeah?” Leah, the social worker, stands up and claps her hands together.
the next day, you’re comfortable on the couch watching the news. you hear that a brutally mutilated body had been found in an abandoned barn down a street you can’t remember the name of, somewhere around an hour and a half away from where you live.
you watch unsurprised, New York City was in its annual killer mode. a time of year where everyone seems to go rogue. Although it’s terrible, dead bodies found was nothing new.
“After a long and hard investigation, the body has been identified to be Lexi Warrington.”
~
(I don’t know what you wanted by ‘ruin’ but I think leigh torturing and killing them makes it a whole lot more interesting ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ)
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thedevilsoftruth · 2 days
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Hey!, I just finished rewatching moon knight and now scrolling through the moon knight tags when I came across a post about how Mr knight is actually Marc Spector and Steven Grant is a playboy billionaire in the comics and I was shook. Then I came across your post of you ranting about the differences from the show to the comics, which blew my mind!, and now I’m so intrigued and curious about the true lore of moon knight, every time I try to search about it on google I just get references from the shows (so frustrating) I can’t afford to buy the comics, so if you can/want could you please tell me all the important and interesting facts/lore that’s in the moon knight comics?
Sorry for the long message, just came across your page and pressed follow, love your content!. ❤️
AAAAAAGGGGHHHH HOLY SHIT. HOLY SHIT. GIIGLING AND KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR. HEY, LOOK MA, I MADE IT!! I GET TO EXPLAIN THE MOON KNIGHT COMICS LORE TO SOME GUY ON THE INTERNET!!
in all seriousness, this made my day. I'm so glad you enjoy my content, and I will happily explain to you the MK lore!
I completely get you on the not wanting to but the comics thing. Comics are expensive. Honey, imma be real with you, readcomiconline.li is where it's at. It's where I read all of the comics I didn't have.
So before I go on a tangent and explain things, and this goes for anyone wanting to start reading the comics, heres a little list of all the comics I've read so far in what I understand to be chronological order.
It's a little bit cheesy and a VERY long run, but Marc Spector: Moon Knight from 1989-94 is maaayybbeee where you want to start off, but maybe not. I didn't start off with this run, but even as bad as the old comics are, they're a bit important.
But, I HIGHLY suggest you start out with the Lemire and Smallwood run from 2016. It was the first run I completed, and it's an amazing run and VERY important to read. Many people say it's the best run. It's certainly a run, I'll tell you that. ( Also I didn't read that one online, I received it last year as a Christmas gift. Also readcomic doesn't have all of the issues, so be warned on that. )
Next I read From The Dead. And I moved on to Vengeance of The Moon Knight from 2009. And after I'd suggest reading Age of Khonshu, Devils Reign and then The Midnight Mission. You can read all of these for free on readcomiconline.li ( don't type in comics plural because it will direct you to the wrong site ) be warned though because there are a lot of ads and you will get jumpscared by anime boobies.
~~
Now moving onto what you asked me for. The important stuff, right.
I'm new to this whole comic reading stuff as well, and for anyone else reading this who knows more than I do, please add additional information I missed down in the reply section. It would mean a lot. So now I'm going to give a you a quick run down on Marc's origin story. ( And for a quick disclaimer, I will come off as not taking myself seriously in some parts of this post because I don't take myself seriously lol. )
Marc Spector was born on March 9th, 1987 in Chicago Illinois into a Jewish family. His father was Elias Spector and his mother was Wendy Spector ( his younger brother being Randall Spector )Elias was a rabbi who manged to escape Nazi prosecution during the days of Hitler and all that jazz. Because Elias was a rabbi, Randall would get picked on at school a lot, and Marc would be there to stand up for him. Even at a young age Marc was exposed to a lot of violence. That could come from growing up yk... Kinda poor and having to stand up for your lil bro.
Marc's violent nature was really born when a close family friend of his, Yitz Perlmen was discovered to be a secret serial killer who targeted Jews. From what I understand, Perlmen tried to Kill Marc ( mind you Marc was like 11 or 12 ) but Marc had escaped but his traumatic experiences led him to form D.I.D
As seen in the Lemire run, the first time Marc had encountered Khonshu was when he was 12 and was getting diagnosed for his D.I.D Marc wasn't told to his face from the doctor about his disorder and was told to step outside the office. Marc tried to evesdrop on the conversation, and from outside of the doctor's office, he meets Khonshu. Khonshu tells him, " That man in there is not your true father. I am. " Mind you, Marc is 12!!! 12!!!! Khonshu began manipulating Marc since he was twelve because he was, obviously really fucking young, and traumatized. Khonshus tactics were to strip Marc away from his religion and culture and make him submit to him.
So anyways, Marc was sent to Putnam Psychiatric Hospital and would stay there until he was 18 when his father funeral came along and he was let go for a week to go visit his family. This is where we learn Marc's relationship with his father was complex. Marc tells his mother, Wendy, that his father must have been happy to send him away because he was embarrassed by him. Wendy and Marc have an argument, which ends in Marc saying he's going to the bathroom, when he actually leaves to his childhood bedroom and escapes out the window when he hears Khonshus voice.
Marc later enlisted into the U.S marines Corps and served as a private for a couple years. But on Marc's second tour to Iraq, superiors started to report his odd behavior and they found out that Marc had lied about his disorder, leaving him to be discharged. Marc joined the CIA and served with his brother Randall. Randall was jealous of Marcs talents and killed Marc's girlfriend, Lisa, because she was going to expose a gun scheme. Marc then like... Threw bombs at Randall and shit and then assumed he was dead...but he wasn't.
Marc left the CIA after that and started doing illegal boxing, where he met his soon to be best friend, Jean-Paul Duchamp ( usually refered to as Frenchie ) and they became mercenaries together and started killing a bunch of people, in Marc's case, for mooonnneeyyy!!! Get that bag, girlie. And then Marc got put on trial for war crimes!! His crime being yk...assistanting the president of this south African country called Bosqueverde as one does.
And then he started to do missions under this group call the Karnak Cowboys and fell in love with one of his groupmates, Layla El-faouly, as seen in later issues of The Midnight Mission. Then she fucking died when an escape went wrong.
So anyways Marc meets this funny lil guy named Raoul Bushman ( he is not funny lil guy, he's killed hundred of people, probably) So Marc works for him with Frenchie and they, together, set to north Sudan to raid a dig site. ( This should start to sound familiar, as it was briefly touched on in the show when Arthur's guys captured Steven and put cuffs on him and slammed him in the back of their car ) Looks like raid shadow legends went down again, and things started to get not so epic when Raoul killed the lead Archeologist of the dig site, Peter Alraune in front of his daughter Marlene. This pissed the ever loving shit out of Marc because even though Marc likes violence, he doesn't enjoy violence against innocent people, and so he punches the fucker but uh oh! The Raoul Bushman Strikes Back, and he fucking KILLS MARC IN RETURN AND EVERYONE ELSE EXPECT FOR FRENCHIE AND MARLENE AND THIS ONE MF WHO TOLD HIM HE WOULD TELL HIM WHERE THE DIG SITE WAS. ( really Raoul left Marc mortally wounded, but he was on the brick of death, basically)
Marc was able to regain conscious and drag himself halfway to Khonshus tomb ( which is what Raoul was looking for ) Marlene and a bunch of other citizens find Marc and they carry him to Khonshus tomb. Marc hears Khonshus voice for yet another time, and Marc is revived and becomes the Moon Knight we all know and love. Then he basically killed Raoul's guys and then fell in love with Marlene.
So that's his origin story. Now onto the stuff I know as fact but it won't be explained in chronological order because I haven't read a ton of comics to explain it in chronological order.
He used Steven as a a way to handle money and build wealth so they could have recourses like vehicles, weapons and a ton of other random bullshit ( go!! ) that they don't need. Jake was used as a new York taxi driver so that he had his eye in the streets and knew when shit was goin down. They're both kind of horny. Jake literally spends some of his free time in a strip clubs drinking rum. ( As seen in the midnight mission and implied on in the Lemire run. )
His relationship with Marlene was long, but didn't last because, if I'm recalling correctly, Marc had a mental breakdown and decided to basically stop working for Khonshu so he could be with Marlene. But soon after he started hearing Khonshus voice again and Marlene couldn't take anymore of it, so she left him.
And then there's that bullshit with The Midnight Man. All I know is that he passed away from cancer and had a son named Jeff Wilde. Jeff aspired to Marc and wanted to be his sidekick, kind of like Robin and Batman in the Lego Batman movie with a little less adoption, but Marc kept on refusing as a way to protect Jeff. The Jeff had this whole thing where he turned evil or some shit idk and I guess Marc killed him? I'm not sure. Please, moon knight gang, let me know what happened in the reply section because I'm ignorant.
Marc had his independence from Khonshu after banishing Khonshu to Asgardian Prison ( seen in Age of Khonshu and discussed in The Midnight Mission) and decided " fuck you, I don't need need you anymore. Imma do my own thing and you can't do nothing about it " and then he became Mr. Knight. Mr. Knight is kind of a detective and he consults with policemen ( as seen in From The Dead ) Moon Knight is the one who does all the fighting.
From where Marc's development is at right now, Marc was running a thing called the Midnight Mission, which was a place where citizens would go to to report strange things happening in the city.
Additional, fun information:
Marc has a daughter named Diatrice. He only knows about it because Jake had a secret relationship with Marlene on the side after Marc and Marlene broke up.
He sleeps all day in the tomb of Khonshu and fights crime at night. He's like a bat!!
His ringtone ( as seen in the midnight mission) is The Killing Moon by Echo and The Bunnymen. ( Y'all should listen to it, if you haven't. it's really good. ).
He drives a red convertible car ( as seen in the Brain Micheal Bendis run, don't read it it's REALLY bad and insufficient. ) and also a motorcycle ( as see in Vengeance of The Moon Knight)
He was originally supposed to fight mainly just werewolf's and um... Writers at Marvel had different ideas.
His favorite drink is an ice cold vodka ( as seen in the Midnight Mission)
He had a mansion and then his money went bye bye and now he lives in a haunted house ( as seen, once again, in the Midnight Mission)
Frenchie is also gay! Hes married to a man named Rob! ( And this is only from what I've heard, by he apparently had a secret crush on Marc at some point.)
And yeah. That's all I have for ya today. Thank you if you made it this far, and I hope I was able to satisfy your curiosity a little bit!
Goodknight everyone!!!
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Note
Hey there,
You’ve got a lot of insight into Ed and his whole journey from S1 to S2. Apologies if you’ve covered all this already (and I’m not the most articulate of people so also apologies for any confusion), but I’m interested in your thoughts…
I get the impression that a basic debate here is that either Ed is a psychopathic sadist (who basically ‘reigns in his sadistic tendencies’ until he loses Stede) or he’s someone struggling with his own self loathing and the toxic environment he’s had to live in (or maybe I’ve missed the mark entirely).
If it’s the latter, do you think he becomes at all vindictive in S2? Or is he more going through the motions of what he thinks is expected of ‘the pirate Blackbeard,’ because he’s somehow trying to cut off his emotions or is just tired of even trying to be anything else (ie himself) anymore? Or maybe it’s something else?
Also, to me personally it seems like Ed is stuck in… how to describe it… a depressive stasis at the beginning of S1, like at least resigned to death but doesn’t actively seek it until the end of S1/beginning of S2. I can’t decide though if in S2 Ed wants to take the crew with him (because that at least means not dying alone, like the mother and the cat in Crimes of the Heart), or if he doesn’t mind one way or the other what happens as long as he’s dead, or if the goal is to actively make the crew despise him because he thinks hatred and death are what he deserves?
Again, sorry if I’m beating a dead horse here…
Thanks!
So a lot of people have written a good bit about this. This is just what I think (and my thoughts may change—I'm planning on rewatching "Red Flags" today).
When we meet Ed, I think he is depressive and perhaps passively suicidal—he's talking about how the one thing he hasn't tried yet is death, but he doesn't seem to be really looking to die, and meeting Stede makes him re-evaluate the life he's been living and what he wants from it.
Stede and the space of the Revenge make Ed feel safe to express the parts of him that he’d concealed within Blackbeard in order to survive (the whole bringing out of his mother’s silk and Stede giving him the space to wear it openly on his heart). He tries to find this again with the crew after Stede leaves him, and it is Izzy who tells him that he is not safe unless he is Blackbeard (by directly threatening him and telling him that he would be better off dead than being the person he is).
I think a lot of what he’s doing at the end of Season 1 and into Season 2 is malicious compliance - “You wanted the caricature of Blackbeard, well HERE HE IS!” By the time we pick up with the Revenge in Season 2, he's moving from passive to active suicidality - he has been unable to correctly perform (Izzy invoking Stede and the fact that Ed's feelings are what have made the atmosphere on the ship toxic - quite literally his inability to conceal those feelings have poisoned everything around them, according to Izzy. Ed's feelings themselves are poisonous). Ed cannot reconcile his past with what he wants to be with who he is, and he has lost the safe space to be Ed.
I don’t think he wants to take the crew with him - his first move is to try to get Izzy to kill him; when that fails, he tries to get the crew to do it. If anyone actually just pulled a gun and shot him, he'd not try to stop them. He’s goading them until they’re forced into a space where they either have to die themselves or take the initiative and kill him (hence his “finally” right before his death).
Ed has been working to become all the monstrous/demoniacal stories about himself, the ones that have been told by the English and by his trio of monstrous fathers. He hates them but he also wants their approval, and he’s transforming himself into the monstrosity that others say he is. His love for Stede and the things that he was allowed to access via his relationship with Stede are the soft, genuine parts of himself that he has been told are not him but that he's also now incapable of concealing. He’s not worthy of that softness, he’s not worthy of love, and so he tries to kill it.
He’s going to die on Stede’s ship, with Stede’s cravat around his throat, murdered by Stede’s crew, as a final confirmation that all the things he wanted to be, and all the love he felt, he wasn’t really worthy of, that Stede was right to leave him because look at what he’s done, and that the people who loved him should never have loved him. He’s dying like all his monstrous fathers have died, murdered by people who once cared for him and whom he should have taken care of, but failed to because he's a monster.
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gh0vtzb1og · 19 hours
Text
It’s not abusive if you like it. VENT WRITING, GHOST X FEM READER
So I decided I was gonna write something that matches me and my not so good bfs situation. My bf is playing as ghost in this and I’ll be trying to get it as realistic as possible. Me and him are online, which seems silly over the fact all this can happen but it did. But for entertainment purposes this relationship in the story will be irl.
Notes; Eating disorders, fat shaming, homophobic slurs, threats of abuse, threats of murder, toxicity, mental abuse, attempted overdose and suicide, manipulation, isolation, cheating, threats of leaving, yelling, victim blaming, playing the victim, mocking of a dead relative, abuse, etc.
This is in no way meant to be enjoyed sexually, even if it is included with a character you might find attractive. This is a real story that I am writing to get out of my system and to share my personal story.
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You were walking down an empty road in the middle of October, your mind wondering to the new friend you had made, he was certainly attractive and a sweetheart to you! He was always so kind and caring towards you and never made you feel bad, I mean how could he, he was your perfect man! Always there to pick you up when you needed it the most, your heart raced when he talked to you.
You were head over heels for devil in disguise. He had this charm, always talking to you about how lonely and single he was, you felt so bad! He was such a dreamy guy, and he’d been through so much. Ghost told you about his abusive exs, the way one threatened to rape and kill him, it was fucking awful. He seemed to wrap you right up in his fingers, whispering soft ‘I love yous’ that you thought were platonic, he found it cute how you never could tell he was giving you a sign.
Ghost made you feel like you were on cloud nine, he had moved you into his home. Deciding you’d be safer there, you were always waiting for him every day to get back from work, he seemed so excited to see you. To see his pretty pretty doll. Your legs squeezed together excitedly whenever you saw him. He liked exciting you, he loved that innocent look in your eye, one that just wanted a friend. You didn’t see ghost as anything more, that was the problem, that was what ached him each night.
He always saw you texting others, you were so friendly, he hated it. If you were his lover he’d snap your phone, you didn’t need to talk to anyone? That’s why you had him! He didn’t want to house you as you texted others, you shouldn’t even look at other men. Ghost rubbed your shoulders lovingly, he’d make everyone hate you, he’d make you regret living.
“Soo I was wondering, if you’d wanna go try something out, since we’re so close.” He placed a hand on your thigh, his rough and scarred fingers brushing over your leg and up your thigh. He knew what he wanted, he was gonna get it, like it or not. He’d have you wrapped around his ring finger. Whispering soft things to you.
-
Screaming echoed throughout your shared home, the sounds of anger booming from ghosts voice and fear echoing out of yours.
“SORRY IM NOT FUCKING ABUSIVE LIKE YOU ARE?” He shouted in your face, his hand gripping your wrist to the point where he could break it. His eyes were narrowed at you, teeth grit in an uncomfortable expression. “You should’ve just overdosed that night. I wish I never fucking helped you.” He let go of your wrist, watching you stumble back with tears in your eyes. You weren’t abusive, ghost just needed you to feel awful about yourself. Recently you had made some friends, they were considered on your boyfriend’s actions and often brought them up to you. You just shook it off and responded with things like ‘that’s just how he is’ or ‘it was my fault.’
You suffered because of him, all he wanted to do was use you for his anger. A personal punching bag.
-
He noticed you had gotten distant recently, scratches and scars littering your arms as you stare blankly down at your legs. He drained you of the person you were before, the one who talked to others and was happy. Now you were just an object in his home, something to place on his mantle and stare at as he sips a bourbon. You had become cold like porcelain, your body felt exhausted, empty.
Every day it felt like the same, he would tell and you’d just take it. You couldn’t defend yourself or that was abusive behavior. You watched as him and his buddies made fun of you. Prodding at your weight or at the way you looked, he smiled brightly when him and his friends uncovered each and every part of you. Watching when the words you dreaded rolled off his tongue. “She’s so damn fat, like a fuckin whale.” (Reminder guys I’m like 102 pounds idk why he was talking like that..), or “I wish she’d get herself re do, such a sight for sore eyes.” His words stung like poison, your bottom lip quivered as you sat on a couch nearby them, listening as his ego got bigger and bigger. You tried to make yourself as little as possible, if you stayed out of his way he couldn’t hurt you right?
-
“Shh baby you ain’t a bad person. Bad people don’t admit their bad honey, you know that right?” Ghost murmured into your ear. He had finally broke everything you had, just letting you lay your head on his chest and mumble how bad of a person you are, how your a monster and nobody will ever love you. How your a failed mother, how you’ll never please him. “You know I didn’t mean that stuff about your weight. Or your face, you know I don’t care right?” He rubbed your back, smiling proudly as he heard your sobs of agony, you didn’t wanna be a monster. You wanted to be a good girlfriend.
“Ah ah. I know you’re hurting so bad aren’t you dear. I just need to help you become a better person don’t I hm? You’ll learn to be good, I know you will.” A kiss was placed onto your forehead as you cried into his chest, terrified of the fact you were a failed person.
-
“I SHOULD FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU KNOW THAT?” He shouted, a bottle smashing against a countertop as he moved more towards you. “Get out of my fucking house. We’re done.” He grabbed your shirt and shoved you out of the nearest door, watching as you scrambled back nervously, you had nowhere else to go. You cut contact with everyone in your life because they upset him. All you knew how to do was wait by his door like a puppy. You scrambled to your feet and sat outside of it, your bruised cheek resting against the wood of the door, he was all you had.
Your hands dug into your leg as you pulled out a razor from your pocket, chewing on your lip and dragging the cold blade against your skin, watching the crimson liquid that oozed out. You always did this after he threw you out, it was a reminder to be better. That you weren’t enough nor would you ever be enough.
-
Ughhh just some of the worst stories I can remember, I try my hardest to forget my experiences with him.
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touyazbbygirl · 3 days
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the lights in the Wind
Per requested here's part two. this is part one
Dabi x reader Happier ending? still bittersweet
talks of death, spoiler warning still and still not proof read so if there's typos my bad
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A gasp was torn from your body as you shot up. Seeing Touya next you asleep his head resting against your shoulder, or was until you shot up from the nightmare that had infested your thoughts. Touya stirred a bit as he looked at you with a raised brow, “what’s wrong Doll?” He spoke voice gravelly from sleep. “J-Just a nightmare” You spoke, voice wobbling with each word. Taking in his appearance, hair still black he was perfectly fine. 
“We need.. we need to talk Touya..” His eye widened as he looked at you. “How.. did you?” He trailed off as he swore, damn dream walkers. “Listen I-“ he was cut off as you shook your head “No Touya you listen. You’re going to fucking die. You’re going to die and leave me because of your past.” You barked at him as he was taken a back by your outburst. They were talking about kidnapping a student from U.A. He didn’t think that taking the kid was going to cause him to end up in a grave. 
“Listen.. I don’t know how far this is.. but, you release a statement on live TV that you are Touya Todoroki. Outing yourself and your family about this. You have a DNA test to also show this.. and you fight both Shoto and your father.. you hurt Shoto really bad Touya.. I know.. I know you have your problems with your family but you’re going to end up dying. Not by them, but you.. you kill yourself Touya. Please, you need to promise me you won’t do this.” You looked at him with a teary expression as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your head to his chest. “How did you know..” You sniffled as he spoke looking up at him “I had a dream about it. Just now. I held you in my arms before.. the last time.. I felt you.. in my arms Touya.” He sighed deeply as he pulled you into his lap, rocking your frame in his arms as he pressed a kiss against your head. 
“Id rather you be locked up and having a hard time seeing you than never see you again. To never hear you calling me again.. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lost you, don’t you understand that Touya? You’re my everything, you saved me, I was about to die and there you were. I could still feel the warmth of your flames against my skin when you killed them. I know that guilt from killing them eats at you every single day. You’ve cried to me over it, I know it’s haunting, and Im sorry for that but Im not sorry for trying to save you. Please don’t go through with this. I don’t know If I could lose anyone else.” You confessed, words stern as the tears that you tried your hardest to keep at bay. Gripping the collar of his jacket tightly in your hands as he looked at you shocked. You had never taken such a tone with him, let alone been so aggressive before, not that he minded. 
“Listen doll-“ he was cut off again as you spoke again “Don’t Touya, I will kill you and bring you back to life to kill you again. It’s not happening do you understand me. I don’t care how badly you hate your family, I don’t want you to kill yourself. They already think you’re dead, is not that enough for you? Listen.. Im sure.. you have your own reasons Touya I do. But I can’t lose you.” You would say it as many times as you needed to get it through his head that you weren’t going to let him leave you for his own self fulfillment. “I will say, I do like the hair white too, I like the black.. but something the white makes you look like an angel.. you’re my angel Touya..” You sighed softly as you leaned down pressing your lips against his own. Cupping his cheeks stroking his skin with your thumbs “Listen Touya, I know youre hurt by your past, but right now, I need you to think about me and you. Do you love me?” 
Touya looked at you with a softened expression, cupping your cheek now. “I love you more than anything, I may have my own.. plans and self fulfillment for validation..” He sighed softly as he pressed a kiss against your head before leaning back against the couch. Bringing you with him as he rubbed your back tenderly, reassuringly. “I can maybe rethink my plan or think of another way to get back at my family.  Just.. won’t go too far. I don’t want to lose you either, you.. made me feel things that I never thought I would be able to feel. You made me realize that its not so bad to be around other let alone be alive. You.. have shown me that loving someone doesn’t have to hurt and love shouldn’t hurt. Ive been happy because of you, all those happy things that make me feel alive. Dreams.. that aren’t just dreams and having you stay by me.. I just want to make you smile, I just want to make you smile even through the tears. I never..” He trailed off trying to steady his breathing as he leaned his head back, the red blood filling his lash line. Sniffling as he pets your head gently fluttering his eyes shut. “I thought.. I was just some damaged goods, I thought that I was.. a lot of things but then you cried out for help that day.. you waltzed into my life and changed me, ripping my heart right out of my chest and held it captive ever sense.” His voice trembled before he sighed “When I feel you and hear your voice calling me when we first wake up.. fills me. With so much. I can’t.. when you say those words of love and when Im feeling insecure.. you know exactly what to say, where to touch, how to kiss me. I love you. I love you so much.” He felt your hand reaching up to his cheek, wiping away the blood stained tears. 
“Do you promise me?” You spoke softly as you stood on your knees, cupping his face in your hands his blues starring back at you. “I promise to keep going, just for you.” He spoke, a sniffle coming from the both of you as you pressed a kiss against his lips. 
That night the wind was as gentle as the gentle touches against each others skin. Whispering calls of each others names in words of affirmation. He was like the whispers in the wind, but at least he kept you by his side even on the stormiest of nights. 
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tags: @artemida88929
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tom
for the next few weeks, annie's life was very steady and predictable. she saw tom often. they went on dates, and they went back to his apartment and had lots and lots of sex. this was done with very little regard for the fact that alicia was still there -- no longer in the wheelchair, but still so unsteady on her feet that, for instance, tom had to help her in and out of the bath. annie was sure he didn't mind.
annie was loud in bed with tom, and tom was a talker. he loved telling annie what a good girl she was as he jerked off against her tongue.
tom could really fuck. annie could tell he was always paying attention to what she liked and leaning harder into it. every time they fucked she came harder or came more often, except sometimes, when tom sensed her desire to be used, and fucked her with no regard for her pleasure, leaving her to masturbate when he was done. she loved that.
alicia saw annie naked all the time -- annie had kept up with shaving her pussy, just because. but she also saw tom -- tom was not disciplined at all about closing his bedroom door, and so alicia frequently passed by as annie was blowing him or he was railing her hard from behind on the bed.
annie never saw alicia in less than her underwear, but tom told her when she wasn't around, alicia was "almost always" either bottomless or topless.
annie thought about them when, late at night she'd go home to robbie, and if casey hadn't been over to drain his balls, annie would do it on her behalf. what would tom and alicia think of this, she thought to herself as she guided robbie's cock into her pussy. it was becoming a rare thing, though, she and robbie. they both had someone they were getting serious about.
one evening, at tom's, annie and alicia got stoned while tom was out picking up dinner, and alicia asked annie if she'd help her with something delicate. "sure," annie said. "what do you need?"
"my hands are too shaky to shave my pussy properly," alicia said.
"say no more," annie said, taking her to the bathroom.
annie helped alicia shave everything, and she was dressed by the time tom got back.
"what did you two get up to?" he asked as they sat down to dinner.
"annie helped me shave my pussy," alicia said cheerily.
"really?" tom laughed.
alicia stood up and pulled down her jeans and shorts.
"nice handiwork," tom told annie.
"don't put them back on," annie told her. alicia let her shorts and panties drop.
"are we doing bottomless dinner?" tom asked.
annie stood up and pulled down her jeans and panties. "yeah." she said.
"okay," tom said. he stood up and pulled down his pants and boxers.
they laughed, sitting at the table, all bottomless.
"do you and your brother do this at home?" alicia teased.
"not specifically," annie said. "but we see each other naked constantly."
"was it always like that?" alicia asked.
"no," annie said. "i really feel like as a big sister i failed at that when we were teens. like, he should have been spying on my friends and me having lesbian encounters in the shower, right? what good is a sister for otherwise?"
"that was our aunt ellen," alicia said.
"she was the best," tom said.
they told her about ellen, her mom's younger sister, a wild, gay hippie who was in her early 20s when alicia and tom were teens. she'd given alicia weed, and had emailed tom a link to her friend's blog -- the friend was a photographer who took nude photos of ellen and her friends. tom told annie he would visit his aunt's apartment after school, and she would do things like take off her skirt and walk him through her anatomy. "she was never wearing underwear," tom said.
annie asked if she had a nice hippie bush, and tom said "no, no, she was always waxed."
"that's a very specific era of hippie," annie observed. she clocked that everyone was speaking of ellen in the past tense. she'd killed herself before her 30th birthday, alicia explained.
they walked around bottomless after dinner, enjoying the silliness and the sexiness of it. annie and tom made out on the couch and tom got hard in full view of alicia. when annie went to sit on tom's cock, he moved her to the bedroom, though.
that night, after two hard fucks, tom told annie something alicia didn't know about their aunt ellen. a few months before she died, tom said, ellen had invited him to an orgy at her apartment. tom had been 21 at the time, and had gone. "obviously," he laughed.
tom being a man of notable cock size, he'd quickly attracted attention at the orgy, which, he'd told annie -- he'd walked into in full swing already, everyone fully naked. he said there had been about 15 people there -- 6 men, 9 women. ellen had come right up to him at the door and undressed him, and then, as one of ellen's friend's sucked his cock, he'd watched his aunt fuck a man on an ottoman across from him. he said that as luck would have it, most of the men came within a few minutes of his arrival, and so for a brief time he was the only hard cock in the room, and the women had lined up to try his big shaft. he said it was obviously a record he'd never broken -- penetrating nine women in something like 10 minutes.
"wait," annie said, grinning. "all nine?"
tom smiled. "yes, all nine women in the apartment."
he said ellen hadn't even gone last -- she'd ridden him right in the middle of the group. the evening had gone on with lots more fucking and sucking, but tom had primarily spent it with two other women. but, he explained, everyone filtered out at the end of the night, and he'd stuck around. he'd taken a shower with ellen -- both of them were covered in cum. and ellen had asked him if he had ever fucked a girl in the ass, and he said no, and she'd said, "want to try?"
"she was your first?" annie said.
"yeah," he said. "and i lasted like 40 minutes because i'd already cum three times."
"that's so hot," annie said.
"i knew you'd think so," he said.
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