#cause I do better with a billion prompts at once lol

[ohnococo]

I miss Soft Sundays and Thirsty Thursdays 😩 they were so fun creatively.

I want to carve out time to open requests for them but idk I feel like I need to build a following more or I won’t get any requests

#like I’m fully aware 99% of the people here were here for aot #so I gotta build momentum with jjk before the burnout hits but idk how to do that #cause I do better with a billion prompts at once lol #or even just random thirsts #cococs

[bard-llama]

Belated Start of Mini Kinktober Week!

So the @witcherkinktober​ provided the great prompts for this week and then I completely and absolutely forgot about it lol. So I don’t have finished fics for yesterday or today, but I will share a snip from each and if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll finish one for tomorrow!

So, my plan was to write 1 rorveth and 1 throne3 fill per day, but uh... that’s not seeming likely. So instead, have snips (more like my entire WiPs shhhh) from 2 throne3 fills + 1 rorveth fill under the cut!

10/3 - Collars | Gags | Hypnosis/Mind Control Warnings for homophobia-induced painful backstory and chronic pain

Unfortunately, no porn here, because I got too caught up in the explanation of how they got here again 😭😭😭 But Reynard got drugged with a truth/babbling potion. That counts as mind control, right? 😅

If there was one thing everyone knew about General Reynard Odo, it was that he kept his thoughts to himself and carefully chose every word he said.

Which is why Gascon knew immediately that something was wrong, because Reynard was surrounded by soldiers and waving his hands in a surprisingly uncoordinated way and, most significantly, openly shittalking people.

“Fuckin’ Reggie,” Reynard slurred, which set off about a billion alarm bells in Gascon’s head, because what the fuck!? First off, Reynard didn’t swear. Certainly not in front of his soldiers. He was meticulous about that kind of thing. Propriety mattered to Reynard and being proper in front of his men even moreso.

Secondly, nicknames and Reynard did not mix. Well, technically, Gascon was always giving Reynard new insultingly affectionate nicknames, but Reynard himself? Gascon had never heard Reynard shorten a name ever. Even the really long ones! Even the ones that everyone else used! Hell, there was one of Meve’s guards who even she called by their nickname. But Reynard? Never. It was always Lieutenant Razzah Ozzell, never Razzell like the rest of them.

Thirdly, who the fuck was Reggie?

“He was a right prick,” Reynard continued, snorting at his own words. “Didn’t know a damn thing about the military. I mean, he was always getting people’s ranks wrong, and who’s gonna correct him? He’s the fucking king!”

Gascon’s face blanched. Reggie as in King Reginald as in Meve’s late husband?

Yeah, he needed to make sure Reynard stopped speaking immediately. Whatever was wrong with him, clearly the General’s extensive control could not be relied upon at the moment, so Gascon would just have to have enough control for the two of them.

Nodding to himself, he wove his way expertly through tangles of soldiers and slipped his arm around Reynard’s, pulling the General up and pushing him towards the edge of camp. The soldiers groaned in protest, but Gascon ignored them, more concerned with the way Reynard was both still talking and did not seem at all bothered by Gascon’s grasp on his arm.

Only once they were a decent distance from camp did Gascon let go and whirl around to demand what the fuck was going on.

“What the fuck, Reynard?” he hissed. “What is wrong with you!? Why would you openly shit talk the King!?”

Reynard’s pupils were wide as the General snorted, “I didn’t even share the worst shit!”

“And it should probably stay that way,” Gascon spoke over him. “Seriously, what is wrong with you!?”

Tilting his head, Reynard leaned too far to the right and flailed for balance. Gascon was officially unnerved. Where the hell was the close mouthed and tight-lipped General Odo?

“I feel fine,” Reynard shrugged. “I don’t even hurt!”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause you’re probably high as a kite on something. What did you eat? Drink?”

“Mmm, jus’ the ale. They’re – hic – they’re always inviting me, you know. To drink with them.”

“Yeah,” Gascon said uncertainly, brow furrowing, “you always say no.”

Reynard sighed, slumping as though all his energy had abandoned him. “Yeah,” he agreed. “They already have to put up with me all day. ‘M not gonna be so selfish as to ruin everyone’s time.” His lips twitched, “I’m Lyria and Rivia’s profesh – profess – pro-fesh-shen-al wet blanket, remember?”

Gascon winced. He hadn’t realized that jab had stayed with Reynard like this, but even worse was that Reynard seemed to think it was true.

“I was being an asshole,” Gascon protested. “You’re not a wet blanket. You’re – I mean, you’re very stoic and uptight and stuff, but like, that’s not always a bad thing! If you want to drink with your soldiers, you should!”

The laughter that fell from Reynard’s lips was haunting. “No one truly wants me there. It’s better to keep from intruding.”

Something about that made Gascon’s heart hurt, but he swallowed hard, refocusing. “Reynard, there must’ve been something in the ale you drank, ‘cause you may feel fine, but you are definitely not. Honestly, when you sober up, you’re probably gonna hate that you told me any of this.”

Reynard hummed, nodding in small movements. “Hate being sober. Hurts too much.”

Gascon blinked. “Wait, really? But you practically never have more than a single ale!”

“Of courshe,” Reynard wiggled his jaw like that would make his lips form the right shapes. “I have a resp – responc – re – ah, fuck it. Duty. I have a duty to Her Majesty.”

“Yeah, but – wait, why does it hurt?”

Snorting again, Reynard shrugged. “It always does. Though, not right now. Like, I can do this!” He shrugged his shoulders once more, seemingly engrossed in the miraculousness of basic movement.

“Can you… not usually shrug?” Gascon tilted his head, considering that. Had he ever actually seen Reynard shrug?

Reynard shook his head emphatically enough to make himself stumble for balance again. “Pulls on my back.”

Gascon’s brow furrowed. “Your… back? I don’t remember you having any particular back injury?”

Snorting through his nose, Reynard hummed. “Wasn’t an injury in battle. Nothing so honorable by far.”

More confused than ever, Gascon opened his mouth to say something, but Reynard didn’t seem to notice and talked over him instead.

“Fuckin’ Reggie,” Reynard muttered again, digging the toe of his boot into the ground.

“Reginald… hurt you?” Gascon asked cautiously. Usually Reynard was the first to insist that no one speak out against their rulers, past or present.

My vague thoughts were that somehow Reynard ends up dirty talking to Gascon on accident ‘cause he can’t shut up, so Gascon gags him? Aaaaand... idk how the collar comes in, but I like making life difficult for myself, so I wanna try to include all 3 prompts.

(throne3) 10/4 - Overstimulation | Monsters | Temperature Play Warnings for monsterfucking, rough sex, and serious size kink

“Troll want mate!” the massive rock troll declared.

Having been sent out scouting near the base of the mountain, General Reynard Odo found himself regretting having chosen to explore this cave. 

“Reynard,” he said loudly, pressing a hand to his chest, “wants to leave.”

“No leave!” One humongous fist smashed into the ground far too close to Reynard for comfort. “Want find mate!”

“You… want help finding a mate?” Reynard repeated uncertainly. Where the hell was he supposed to find a mate for a troll!?

The troll nodded emphatically with a sound like rocks scrapping together. “Us need mate! ReyRey help find!”

Reynard winced at the atrocious nickname, then frowned. What did the troll mean ‘us’?

As he watched, the rock formations behind the troll materialized into more trolls. A lot more trolls.

“Uh,” he started, “why do you think I can find you a mate?”

“Humie no come here before!” the first troll he’d spoken to said cheerily. “You be special!”

Well. That was encouraging. “Where would I find you a mate?”

“If we knew, we no ask!” Another troll huffed. “Is season! Must mate! But where mate?”

His frown deepened. “So you don’t need a mate as in a life-partner, but more… uh, for one-time use, so to speak?”

The trolls hummed and groaned, looking at each other in confusion. “What humie mean?”

“Uh… I guess that you,” he cleared his throat uncomfortably, “you need to physically mate with someone. Urgently. Yes?”

“Urgent, urgent, yes!” One troll waved its leg up and down and Reynard’s brow furrowed in confusion. Except then the troll wrapped its hand around the leg and Reynard realized that it wasn’t a leg at all. “Need mate soon!” the troll said, stroking the massive cock that hung between its legs.

“I don’t know where to find you a mate,” Reynard said. “And I have urgent business I must conduct for my queen–”

The first troll he’d talked to cut him off with a low grunt, hands punching into the ground. “Need mate now!”

“ReyRey,” another troll – he really couldn’t tell them apart beyond size, but this one was a little smaller than the others, and troll dicks must have been retractible, because this one didn’t have a huge limb hanging between its legs. But there was the start of something peeking out where the troll’s underbelly met its legs.

Reynard found himself oddly entranced, watching the troll’s cock slowly protrude and grow larger and larger until it was around the length and width of Reynard’s entire forearm. If these things were proportional to the troll’s size, then this was the smallest one.

He swallowed, unsure why his mouth was watering, but he still couldn’t look away and the smaller troll grinned.

“ReyRey want mate?” it offered. 

Choking, Reynard flushed scarlet and shook his head. “I – no! We aren’t – aren’t compatible. You’d break me!”

Why did thinking that send a shiver of interest down his spine. These were trolls! He was absolutely not mating with trolls!

Except when he finally managed to look away from the smaller troll’s cock, his eyes got stuck on the one beside it, their cock slightly bigger than the other troll’s. 

“ReyRey want be broken,” the smaller troll said confidently. “ReyRey get hard like troll!” So saying, the troll reached out and poked Reynard’s pelvis where, to his great shame, his cock was getting hard.

“I–” he fumbled for words. Surely this was not going to happen. It couldn’t happen! What would his men think of him, getting railed by a rock troll!? By several rock trolls!?

It was ridiculous that this question should even be raised! Of course he wasn’t going to let himself get fucked by a bunch of trolls. He couldn’t!

So why did he kind of want to? Why was he thinking about what it would feel like, getting stretched so wide. And deep! These trolls were huge, and that should make him scared, but instead, he was… kind of getting excited.

Gods, what was wrong with him? He was – he was genuinely considering mating with a troll! That was most definitely not normal or in any way appropriate.

But… who would know? He’d only left camp about half an hour ago, so they wouldn’t expect him back for several hours yet. And it wasn’t as if he would ever tell anyone just what he was contemplating doing. So really, who would ever find out? 

And it had been so long since Reynard had last been fucked. He would – he would have to prepare himself thoroughly before even considering taking the trolls, but…

He really actually wanted to do this.

Biting his lip and shifting his weight, Reynard looked around the cavern. “What,” his voice cracked and he coughed, trying again, “what exactly would it mean? To – to be your mate?”

The trolls let out excited hums and rumbles and the smaller troll grinned at him. “ReyRey look good on cock,” it said brightly. “We mate. Means ReyRey takes pearls.”

“Pearls?” his brow furrowed. Was that a euphemism for ejaculate?

“Lil trolls,” the troll nodded, “pearls. ReyRey say yes?”

“I…” Reynard swallowed and for once in his life, let himself do the improper thing. “I’ll need stretching first.”

“Trolls help!” the smaller one said enthusiastically. “ReyRey take off metal shell? No good for mating.”

“Right,” he cleared his throat, and even though part of his mind was screaming in horror, he actually did start to pick at the buckles on his armor. “Uh. We’re gonna need something slick. To – to open me up,” he blushed. 

“We slick ReyRey!” one troll proclaimed loudly and as soon as Reynard’s armor was removed, they grabbed him, manhandling him with an ease that made his heart beat fast. Then, before he really knew what was happening, they bent him in half and something long and wet was prodding at his ass as stone-encrusted fingers held him open.

He yelped in surprise – and then moaned as the troll’s tongue pushed into him with no warning, thrusting deep and wiggling inside him the way nothing ever had before. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped, gripping his own ankles tightly. He hadn’t even realized he could bend down so far, but with the trolls holding him, it was somehow easier than anything to just let himself go and let them have what they wanted of him.

“Me turn!” another troll grumbled and Reynard suddenly found himself empty and moving, until a different tongue thrust deep into him, fucking him rapidly.

He couldn’t help his whine, cock already very interested. And folded in half and angled down like he was, when his cock leaked, it dripped down onto his face in a way that made him feel both embarrassed and horrifically turned on. 

“Oh fuck, please!” he heard himself beg before he’d consciously decided to.

“Good humie,” a troll praised before something larger prodded at his hole next to the tongue rocking into him. “ReyRey take troll like meant for it.”

Reynard shuddered, the praise making his face warm as it flushed red.

Should I tell you where the story is going next? ‘cause it decided to get long, dammit, so who knows when I’ll finish it. So I guess if you don’t wanna know, then spoiler warning Additional warnings for breeding kink, oviposition, extreme oversensitivity, and extremely bad attempts at acting casual

Okay, so this was supposed to be some basic monsterfucking, but instead, romance had to happen lmao. So Reynard gets fucked by troll after troll and he discovers that unlike his assumption, “pearls” was not a euphemism, but literally trolls laying ‘eggs’. Each one gives him about two dozen pearls, so he’s huge and hella sensitive and just kinda losing his mind. But that kinda fucking takes time, which means Meve and Gascon are worrying over where their crush general is. They’re not together yet in this, but I think all three of them kinda recognize that, were the world different, they could have something special together.

Anyway, Meve and Gascon go searching for him and find him in the cave getting fucked by trolls. And they’re about ready to go charging in and cutting off heads of all sorts when Reynard begs for more. So then they’re confused and far too intrigued and they watch Reynard take another twenty pearls and he moans orgasmically and unlike Reynard, Gascon is not known for his self-control. So he darts out and gets his mouth on Reynard’s cock, making Reynard shout. Then Meve comes out and Reynard is freaking the fuck out and the trolls have all kinda frozen (and no, no one is distracted by the way cum drips out of his stretched out hole) and then Meve kneels and pets through Reynard’s sweaty hair and pulls him up to pillow his head in her lap. and Reynard is very confused, but like, weirdly, they seem to not find this as suuuuuper weird as it was and seemed to even like it.

So the trolls all finish with their mate while Meve pets his hair and Gascon explores his rounded belly and his cock. When everything is done, Gascon and Meve work on cleaning Reynard out - which is when they discover that the pearls can’t be ‘laid’ yet. They need to incubate for a couple of days, and obviously they can’t just leave Reynard with the trolls who didn’t realize that that sort of thing should be mentioned beforehand. So they decide they’ll take Reynard back to camp and hide him away for several days, giving the men a chance to take leave in the area. 

Except Reynard’s armor can’t fit him anymore, so Meve covers him in her cape and Gascon carries the armor (he thinks he got the shit end of the deal here) and Reynard attempts to stumble back to camp when he’s filled with like 700 pearls. But he can’t really walk and every movement nudges the pearls inside him and he’s ridiculously sensitive and he would be horrified at being half-carried into camp by his queen while wearing only her cape and stuffed full of fucking troll eggs, but tbh he can’t think much beyond feels so good and oh god, do not come, do not make a noise! Fortunately, Meve and Gascon are more than aware of how much it would bother Reynard, so Gascon creates a distraction while Meve sneaks Reynard into her tent. 

When Reynard realizes he’s in his queen’s bed, he tries to jolt upright - except he really can’t move much and his attempt just sents pleasure sizzling through his veins. So of course Meve, being Meve, decides she wants to see him mindless with pleasure again. So she kisses him and presses against his belly and explores his cock. By the time Gascon arrives, Reynard is already halfway to another orgasm (dry by this point, though he might’ve recovered a bit since the trolls) and Gascon is absolutely delighted to join in. 

So basically, they spend a couple of days making up ridiculous excuses that none of their men believe about why they quite suddenly have leave time on their urgent march to free Lyria and, more importantly, driving Reynard out of his mind. Then, after the pearls have incubated long enough, they bring Reynard back to the cave with the trolls and hold him and soothe him as he ‘lays’ the pearls, shuddering and moaning with every twitch of a muscle.

And then the throne3 talk lmao. They get together properly and give Reynard some much needed aftercare, ‘cause dude took 700 fucking pearls!

(Also, the men definitely go wild with rumors as to what happened and why Meve and Gascon and Reynard remain shut in the queen’s tent. Some of them are even partially right, but I don’t think anyone calls the troll bit lmao)

(rorveth) 10/4 - Overstimulation | Monsters | Temperature Play Warnings: implied desire for a noncon gangbang, but Roche shuts that shit down quick and between Iorveth/Roche, there is enthusiastic consent 

I actually started this one for the Rare Pair Bingo, but I still haven’t finished it 😭 But it works pretty well with the prompts. Also, inspired by this art. 

I cannot find the article/study, so it’s probably bullshit, BUT the ongoing joke that I will use to death is “arousal smells like candied watermelon”

When Vernon Roche was a child, his mother used to tell him tales of the majestic creatures of the ocean. Gain one’s favour, it was said, and they would do anything for you.

Of course, then Roche actually went to sea and it turned out, the only creatures around were fish or monsters, not the fabled legends his mother had spoken of.

Or so he thought. After all, everyone knew that monsters were mindless, driven purely by instinct like any beast. Right?

Roche had always thought sirens were just another category of beast, but now… now he was starting to wonder. Because the creature they’d accidentally caught in their net was anything but a beast.

It looked like one – its skin was green and blue, and luminescent in a way that was wholly unnatural. Its torso was shaped like a man, but large bat-like wings protruded from its back and instead of legs, its bottom half had fins to swim through the ocean. But its face…

The skin may have been a lovely blue-green and its eyes were unlike any human’s Roche had ever seen, but they looked at him with intelligence, hatred and fury exuding from the creature’s snarl like they would from any other man’s.

It was… actually kind of beautiful, except for the part where it might try to slaughter his men and his crew. It squirmed, trying to free itself from the net before they could haul it onto the deck, but its fins and wings were tangled in the rope and there was no way it could break free.

“Heave!” he ordered his crew and with one last back-breaking haul, the creature sprawled onto the deck of the ship, net wrapped around it as effective as any trap. 

There was a moment of relative silence as the crew stared at the creature and the creature snarled back at them. Then Thirteen, the lookout who’d spotted something worth throwing their nets out for, stepped closer and the creature lashed out, long talons on the end of its fingers shining in the sun.

“Whoa,” Thirteen reeled back. “Jeez, was just trying to help. Can it talk, you think?”

“It,” the creature growled, voice reverberating oddly across the deck, “is right here and if you do not free me, I will kill each and every one of you.”

Roche and his crew frowned down at the creature and it glared right back.

“What even are you?” Roche eventually asked when their stare off was getting them nowhere and some of the men had started shifting uncomfortably.

It scoffed, “I’m a siren. Obviously. What kind of sailor doesn’t recognize a siren!?”

The creature squirmed around to face him, its finned pelvis pressing against the wooden planks in a way that was suddenly drawing Roche’s attention. It was almost as if… did he smell something sweet? Like candied fruit, almost, and he took a deeper breath, inhaling the scent. Yeah, it was definitely like candied fruit. And it appeared to be coming from the self-proclaimed siren.

Weren’t sirens the legendary creatures that could ensorcel men and send them to their deaths?

“Stop that,” Roche snapped and the creature blinked up at him in surprise. 

Around them, Roche’s crew was growing restless, clearly smelling the same delicious scent that he was – and wanting more of it.

“Whatever you’re exuding, stop,” Roche ordered. “Seriously, unless you want this to end with a whole lotta humans vying for one siren, you need to stop.”

The siren ground sharp teeth together, lips pulled back in a snarl. “I can’t,” it grunted and Roche blinked.

“Why the hell not?”

The siren shot him a look, but it was quickly distracted by assessing the crew around them. Several of the men had bulges in the fronts of their trousers and Roche could admit, he was feeling oddly horny, but it was nothing he couldn’t control.

The same, apparently, could not be said of his sailors, because one man – Roche totally hadn’t forgotten his name, but if he had, it would be totally understandable, as the man had only been with them for 3 weeks so far – stepped forward, towards the creature, who snarled and growled and bared its teeth and raised its claws, but who was also, Roche noticed, unable to move terribly much, not with the net tangled around its wings and fins and it not having legs.

“Cap’n,” the new guy said, “I’ve – I’ve heard that hauls like this sometimes get shared with the crew. Could we–?”

Roche saw the creature freeze at the question and something sour built in his chest.

“No,” he snapped. “Get back to work!”

“But what about–?” Thirteen asked, now keeping his distance from the siren.

“I’ll take care of it,” Roche decided. If it was doing something to make his crew horny and it couldn’t stop, then Roche needed it to not be out in the open, distracting his crew and making them far too likely to do something unforgivable.

There were a few huffs and laughs. “Enjoy, Boss,” Fenn muttered, returning to swabbing the deck. The others dispersed shortly thereafter, though they were definitely still distracted, glancing over at the creature.

“Can we–” the new guy started, “can we watch?”

Roche blinked. “Watch… what? Just – get back to work,” he shook his head, pulling his knife and beginning to cut through one of their best nets. It was snarled beyond repair, so they would need to weave a new one anyway.

The siren growled at him as he approached, but he felt oddly entirely unafraid. This creature was dangerous, certainly, but the way it was posturing hid the way that it was entirely helpless. As long as Roche was actually helping, he was pretty sure the creature wouldn’t attack him.

“What, you want to stay tangled?” he asked rhetorically, trying to lighten the mood. 

The siren narrowed its eyes, watching him come closer and closer to the knots around the siren’s left wing.

“What do you want?” the siren demanded.

“Well, let’s start with keeping you from distracting the crew from their duties,” he let his voice carry across the deck and more than a few people looked away guiltily. “Uh, I guess you don’t exactly have a lot of options to walk. Can I – uh – carry you? Just into the captain’s cabin where we can talk and whatever it is you’re doing that makes everyone,” he waved his hands in demonstration, trying to say ‘really fucking horny’ without saying it, “if you can’t turn it off, then let’s start with getting you away from the crew, huh?”

The siren frowned at him, head tilted to the side. But when he motioned to pick the creature up, it nodded, though very clearly reluctantly.

Roche lifted the siren with one hand under its lower body fin and one around its back below the wings. As he rose, most of the netting that hand tangled around the siren fell away, but not quite all of it. He’d have to take care of that, but first–

“Back to work!” he ordered and more than half of the crew jumped, looking away quickly and pretending to be busy.

He shook his head, carrying the siren into the captain’s quarters and setting it on the bed. Then he withdrew, very deliberately stepping away, even though that smell was incredible and made him want to–

Well, it didn’t matter what he wanted, because he was not going to let his ship become the kind of place where ‘hauls got passed around’.

“So, uh… do you have a name?” he asked belatedly. It was probably kind of offensive to keep calling it ‘it’ in his head. 

The siren stared at him for a long minute, then its head dipped in a nod. “I am called Iorveth.”

“Vernon Roche,” he introduced himself. “I’m the captain of this ship. Um. No offense, but I’ve sailed these waters for decades and I’ve never caught anything like – well, like you before. How did you end up caught in our net?”

The creature – Iorveth – huffed in irritation. “I was distracted,” it – he – said. “I’m – the reason I can’t make it stop,” Iorveth hesitated, looking at Roche and biting his lower lip.

“What?”

“I’m – um, I don’t think humans deal with this, but I’m – I’m in heat,” the siren’s cheeks flushed green as Roche watched and he found himself oddly fascinated.

“Uh… okay. So… how does that lead to getting caught in a net? Shouldn’t you be – I dunno, enticing lovers to, uh… deal with it?”

“I was… avoiding potential ‘lovers’ when your net tangled with my wings,” Iorveth admitted, still looking at him with eyes that blazed. 

“Oh,” Roche blinked. “Well, that’s unfortunate. Uh… should I just like… let you go find someone to – uh, to mate with or whatever?”

“You would let me leave?” Iorveth asked, surprise clear in his voice and on his face.

“I… yes? Why? What am I supposed to do with a siren?”

Iorveth tilted his head again, frowning at Roche. “Your crew had an idea about that.”

Roche blanched. “That would be entirely inappropriate!”

The corner of Iorveth’s lips ticked up. “I’ve heard tales of other sirens caught by humans. Many would disagree with you.”

“Well, fuck them,” Roche growled, suddenly infuriated. “My ship is not somewhere things like that are acceptable!”

“Hmm,” Iorveth hummed. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course!” It was possible a hint of offense leaked into his tone, but really. “You’re clearly an intelligent creature. Your refusal should be respected, no matter by what species.”

Iorveth’s smile grew. “What makes you think I’ve refused?”

Roche blinked at him, taken entirely off guard. “What?”

“Well, technically, you haven’t made an offer for me to refuse. But are you so sure that’s what I’d say?”

“I… yes?”

Iorveth licked his lips, leaning back on the bed and running his hands down his body until he reached an area just below where his hips would be if he were a human. The scales were darker there and it took Roche a moment to realize that that was because there was an opening there. A wet opening.

Mouth suddenly watering, Roche licked his lips, wondering what Iorveth would taste like. But he didn’t move, even as Iorveth dipped the tips of his own fingers into the slit. Then Iorveth hooked both pointer fingers inside the slit and pulled it open, making Roche gasp as the dark cavern inside was exposed to view.

“Don’t you want me?” Iorveth asked softly, smirk confident and coy. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“I…” Roche swallowed hard, staring at that slit. “Why… you’re asking me to mate with you?”

“I’m asking you to fill me and fuck me through my heat,” Iorveth murmured, removing one hand and bringing it to his lips.

When Iorveth’s tongue flicked out to lick his finger, Roche couldn’t help the punched out moan that escaped him.

“Why?”

Iorveth smiled. “Because you let it be my choice.”

“That’s just basic decency!” Roche argued, but he did take a step closer. Then another. “You’re sure you want–?”

“I’ve never had a human before,” Iorveth said, half-lidded gaze locked with his. “Don’t you want to play with the prize you’ve captured?”

Roche gulped. “I – you – is that what you want? To be – to be treated like stolen treasure?”

Iorveth’s eyes lit up. “Yes,” the siren breathed, “steal me. Take me.”

Stepping up to the edge of the bed, Roche looked Iorveth over for any sign that this wasn’t truly what he wanted. 

Iorveth rewarded his scrutiny by dipping his fingers into that slit again, then holding them out. “Have a taste,” Iorveth invited and Roche was lost, leaning forward to wrap his mouth around those fingers, tongue eager to taste everything he could.

He moaned as Iorveth’s flavor spread across his tongue. If he’d thought about it, he might have expected Iorveth to taste briney from the sea. But instead, his tastebuds quivered with delight because Iorveth was slightly salty and slightly sweet and slightly something else altogether on his tongue and he immediately wanted more.

“You’re sure?” he asked one last time, missing Iorveth’s cool fingers as soon as they moved away.

Iorveth smiled, touching his face lightly. “Fuck me, Vernon Roche.”

Roche couldn’t help his moan, but while Iorveth probably expected Roche to pull out his cock and go for it, there was something Roche needed first. 

He licked his lips, crawling up the bed until he was hovering over Iorveth’s lower body. Then he leaned forward and swiped his tongue along that wet opening, enjoying the way Iorveth gasped sharply.

He moaned again, tongue delving into that opening like he was a starving man and Iorveth was a royal buffet. Iorveth’s taste and scent overwhelmed him and Iorveth knocked off his hat, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him closer.

After a while of that, Iorveth’s muscles started twitching, close to the edge, and Roche thrust his tongue as deep as it could go.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Iorveth began to swear, slipping into another language as his hips rocked up into Roche’s face. Roche devoured him, licking and sucking and generally dedicating himself to thoroughly exploring Iorveth’s opening.

“Gods, your cunt is delicious,” Roche groaned, lips moving across the slit in Iorveth’s scales.

“It’s not a cunt,” Iorveth said. “It’s a – it’s – oh fuck,” Iorveth gasped, body arching and twitching as Roche’s face was soaked. 

Roche did not stop the attention he was paying to Iorveth’s not-cunt, continuing to lick and suck and devour Iorveth.

Iorveth clung to his head, hands clutching desperately at his hair as the siren’s hips continued to buck and overstimulated whimpers filled the air.

Still, Roche did not stop and Iorveth cried out in that other language as he came for a second time, far too close to the first to not be painful.

And again, Roche did not stop.

Iorveth’s crying was agonized, but his hands were still tangled in Roche’s hair, holding Roche against him.

“How many more can you give me?” Roche asked, lips moving against Iorveth’s slit.

“Nnnh,” Iorveth arched, “f-fuck me, dammit!”

Roche smirked, lips curling up against Iorveth’s scales. “Is that not what I’m doing?”

Iorveth let out a strangled sound, fingers tightening in Roche’s hair.

“Unnh,” Iorveth gasped desperately. “Your cock! Fuck me with your cock, gods dammit, or I’ll–”

Roche pulled away, still smirking, and the noise Iorveth made was unhinged. 

“Vernon,” Iorveth growled, and Roche just grinned, kneeling up and unbuckling his belt. He stripped his shirt off with minimal ceremony, then reached for the waistband of his trousers, which were mostly being held up by the very hard cock inside them.

Iorveth licked his lips, a quick flash of tongue, and Roche swallowed hard, debating if getting his boots off was worth moving away from Iorveth.

Meeting his gaze squarely, Iorveth sent him a hot look. “Fuck me, Vernon.”

Roche moaned, deciding that nothing mattered except giving Iorveth his cock, even if that meant his trousers tangled around his boots. He gripped the base of his cock, teasing it around Iorveth’s slit until the siren snarled again.

“Vernon!”

Tilting his head, Roche smiled. “I think you can ask nicely, can’t you?”

Iorveth’s glare was impressive, but when your second glared at men as if they should apologize for existing, you became rather impervious to such intimidation tactics.

Plus, Iorveth wasn’t as scary as Ves. Nothing was as scary as Ves.

“Gods just – fuck me!”

Clicking his tongue, Roche ignored his own urgent need. “That wasn’t very nice now was it?”

Obviously this is just an excuse to explore nonhuman genitalia lmao, but my vague plan was that Iorveth begs, Roche finally fucks him, and fucks him through like 3 more orgasms and he’s crying and hoarse from screaming, but he needs Roche to come in him and Roche has been holding off to give him so much pleasure and he wants to make Roche feel good too.

Then they pass out from too much sex lmao

#throne3 #rorveth #meve x reynard x gascon #iorveth x roche #the witcher #thronebreaker #fic planning #witcherkinktober

[twixtandshout]

Tagged by @pidgeonpostal! And not tagging anyone else because I have SOILED the original template (soiled it!!) in deference to my [brushes off skirt] mostly clean public-facing appearance.

...I’ve been making a lot of Spongebob memes lately for someone who has not seen Spongebob.

How many works do you have on AO3?

71!

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

...306,834. Jesus.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Uh. Many! I do a lot of one-offs (and/or start long things I never finish) in many different places. My top three fandoms by fics written are RWBY (29), Undertale (25), Gravity Falls/Transcendence AU (4).

Bet you can’t tell where my hyperfixations have fallen. 

I’ve also got some Pokémon and Sonic the Hedgehog fics back on my ff.net account, or I think I still do, anyway, but let’s never go back there pls

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Sweeter Than Honey (Undertale): Taking a Completely unsurprising first place, with over 600 more kudos than the runner-up, the haphazard Underswap fic featuring a post-college self-insert I wrote just after high school! I shake my head some at how overblown and ridiculous the gap between this and all my other stuff is (c’mon, guys, I’ve written way better fics), but this is also the fic which prompted me (and at least one other person!) to start using they/them pronouns. I’ve gotten a lot of really sweet comments about how seen and appreciated it’s made people feel, so I can’t get down too far about it.

2. To Be A Hero (BNHA): I don’t count myself as part of the BNHA fandom, for a number of reasons, but for something that’s arguably the main motivation for the entire plot, Midoriya’s quirklessness is something I’ve never thought has been handled well. This fic marked the first time I (somewhat tentatively) claimed the disability label (thanks again to Sweeter Than for prompting that realization) to hold that lens over canon. It also really shot up my chart, dang! It’s the only thing here I’d consider “recent.”

3. Three-Sentence Shipping (Undertale): Self-explanatory.

4. Brothers Beyond Bonedaries (Undertale): Ah, the way-overcomplicated AU³ I got nowhere close to finishing. One of the things I really like about Undertale is the interface screw, how Toby Fox uses the medium of the video game to pull off crazy things and enhance his game, but most of the fic written for the fandom seems dedicated to explaining it away, grounding it, rather than taking it to the next step and messing with the medium of fanfiction when you keep the story going. I tried to do something cool like that here, playing with questions like narrator and authorship and breaking the fourth wall, even taking the “final boss” fight to a “totally separate” fic reached through the first by link – but, well, then I never finished it, which probably didn’t make anything less confusing for the poor folks who missed the intent.

5. Spirit and Such (Gravity Falls: Transcendence AU): A whole fic written to line out a particular image I had, which, naturally, never made it to the page. I consider it a bit of a cautionary tale for myself when it comes to writing (near-)original content; there’s a lot I look back on and cringe. I still love the characters, though – well, the important ones – and I think just stepping away from the tried-and-true Mizar formula nets it a star sticker here.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

>w>; I try, but a lot of the time I just don’t have anything to say? Like, oh, you liked it? Neat. There’s not much to respond to in comments like that, and then I’m weighing falling down on an ~obligation~ to respond to every message in my inbox vs annoying people with copy-paste fluff responses all down the page. Plus I know I make more of an effort to comment on things that didn’t get the attention I feel they deserve, so if I’m driving up my own comment count with nonsense, am I preventing myself from being in a position to receive more comments later? And then if I do comment, am I being too effusive or running people’s ears off explaining things they don’t actually need to know? Sometimes people just want to express interest or admiration and don’t necessarily want a whole peek and guided tour behind the curtain.

Can you tell I have anxiety? x3;

Anyway, I do respond when I can. And I keep most of the comments I’ve gotten to go back and reread. 

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm, hmm. Lots of stuff in the TQ Nonsense series would probably qualify! I’m thinking of Unfixable, Wolfsong, and Ethanol. And there’s Bursting Through A Blood-Red Sky (I Can Live, I Can Breathe), of course, but that was always intended to have a fix-it epilogue. It’s just that I wrote it in a couple of hours day-of, stared at it, and decided I didn’t wanna just then. But now that’s As Long As You’re Still Burning Bright (I’m Still Awake), and that’s probably the best romance I’ve written, so that one worked out.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Now and then! When the urge strikes. Uhhh, I’ve got a series of Doctor Who x Undertale crossovers I actually made a whole dang verse for that never made it to print. Get a couple great comments on that every few months or so. I think the World Trigger x Undertale crossover is probably weirder, though, by virtue of WT being a very small fandom. My enthusiasm kinda sputtered out on that one.

Mostly I just daydream crossovers with whatever happens to catch my eye at any given moment. I have a lot!!!! Though odds are out on whether I manage to remember any of them once the initial thought’s passed, lol.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Gotten a couple eyebrow-raising comments, but I think mostly I’m just too small a writer to draw that kind of attention.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t? think so? Think my tastes are a little niche for most people to bother ^^;

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had someone apologize once for any language mistakes in their comment cause they had to run it through a translator! That’s not what you asked (the answer is no), but it’s very flattering to think that someone liked my fic enough to read and comment despite the language barrier.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! :D @pidgeonpostal was gracious enough to agree to co-write Five Nights at Denny’s with me off an idea about shoes. This has fulfilled a long-held dream of mine (collabing with someone, not the shoes) and also introduced me to some lovely people.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Who has time for just one? ;3c Honestly, I care more about the characters and how the relationship – any relationship – between them changes them than I do about ~A Ship~ as a solid, bounded noun-object. I’ve got characters I like more and less and feelings about who does and doesn’t have chemistry in which directions with whom, but finding anything that agrees with those preferences is hard, harder when you take alloromanticism into account. I’ll play in any sandbox with cool toys, especially if other folks have already built sick sandcastles there.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

[kicks every single unfinished fic further under the bed] What nooo no WIPs here, everything on my account is either finished or does not exist

I’ve got a couple extra chapters of Sweeter Than floating around unposted, but 1. that fic’s a mess 2. high school Twixt and post-college Twixt are different people and trying to contort myself into three other me-shapes just cause people Like this fic is not something I’m super interested in 3. it’s headed for an emotional dip and I’d rather leave it where it is than post two chapters, stall out again, and leave folks with a bad end.

As for other fics... it’s looking more and more likely that v7 of my Yellow Brick Road AU will never actually make it out. >w>; I’ve got some really great ideas, but not enough to make me feel like I know what I’m doing, and that’s a big roadblock. Plus trying to engage with RT’s Atlas-Mantle worldbuilding in any serious capacity is... a headache. I can’t recommend the Happy Huntress Cinematic Universe enough, but it leaves some pretty big shoes to follow! And I’ve got small feet. <w<;

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue’s fun, probably as an extension of characterization. I love tearing into what makes people tick, especially against the backdrop of their environment, the story they’re in, and the people they’re up against. Voice is a double-edged sword; I’ve been told my writing is really recognizable and individual, but on the other hand, I’ve been growing frustrated with with the limits of my narrative ability. There’s a strong rhythm I keep when I write (you might notice it here, even) but that leaves me feeling predictable and stale. I’m not sure I’m great at setting as a matter of course, but I’m pretty good at describing setpieces where the need comes up; that comes from my background in poetry, as does the fun I have with sublimating and abstracting complex imagery. And I think I bring some needed nuance to the universal. For good or ill, I don’t do what “everyone else” is doing.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Well, writing, for one thing. If I don’t know how something’s going to go and don’t have the urge to write it, it isn’t getting done, which means there’s a billion things that will never see the page and a few hundred more that are never getting finished. I lose momentum easily and have a hard time getting started, and I put way too much standing on finding a foothold with other people; as critical as I am of my work, I have high expectations for the stuff that passes muster, and it never seems to measure up. I’m also really uncreative. Yeah, I can mix up elements and extrapolate events, but coming up with things wholesale is really hard, which is why I avoid it wherever possible and steal/reskin stuff from other places instead.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Something along the lines of “Hoo boy, I am Not qualified for this but hopefully it’s decent anyway.” Maria’s Spanish lines haven’t been a big deal – I’ve used it sparingly and, as a Latin language, it should be easy for English-speaking audiences to pick up on the gist – but I’ve had a harder time with Tai’s Chinese, both because I have Even Less background there and because it is, of course, an entirely different language system. If I write it out in English or Romanized italics, am I colonizing it or changing the meaning? If I write it out in the presumed-original characters (presumed because it’s Google Translate and who knows if I’m even barking in the right forest), am I confusing or alienating my presumed-majority-English-speaking audience? Where should I put the translations? Should I put the translations? And for Frisk’s sign language, thinking back, are the brackets I used instead of quotes alienating/infantilizing? I like that different characters give the text between a different feel, but I’m not an ASL speaker – and I’m pretty sure the word is “speaker,” which would only reinforce that that demographic would rather I didn’t do that. It’s important for all these characters, I think, that they use non-English language where it makes sense; it’s part of who they are. But as a white monolingual English-speaker, I don’t think I can really weigh in.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Thaaaat’d be Pokémon, followed closely with Sonic the Hedgehog. Whether those fics are still on my ff.net account or not (pretty sure I’ve purged them, but you never know) I’ve still got a couple saved to a folder on my current laptop, ostensibly so I can look back and see how far I’ve come and more practically to allow for the possibility of furthering group cohesion through public shaming.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I still like the idea behind The Man Who Is Atlas, and Burning Bright (Still Awake) gets props for being my current fic, though it’s currently in that spot where I’m excited to get new chapters posted but also quietly marking everything up in red pen. I think Harbinger gets the crown here, at least for now.

#answerin' stuff

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “The Wrath of Conn.”

Lol, I couldn’t resist. Anyway this is for the multitude of you Conn groupies who wanted a little something form his perspective. Well cue a couple pages of him sort of being an asshole. But also it is totally plot relevant so there is that. 

Hope you all enjoy. This was actually kind of difficult to write, and I had to re-write it at least once :) 

The ship was a strange place now, months had gone by without his presence, and without his connection to their thoughts, and in that time, things had changed. Conn wasn’t entirely sure he appreciated it, but only because that meant he had to re-gather all the information he had originally collected on his human crew members to begin with.

It had been a difficult few months, the most difficult the ship had ever experienced. Conn wasn’t exactly displeased at that fact considering that it was the collective fear and horror from the Cannibal incident that had finally broken him out of his Coma, but he was also displeased to find that things had changed somewhat. Conn didn’t lie change, especially the change that he saw within the Commander. The only person aboard the ship that he could actually communicate with mind to mind.

Well actually scratch that, there were a few others he could speak with, but currently the weighed about fifteen pounds and had language ability so rudimentary it was like trying to talk with the dog. 

Regardless, the last few months  had absolutely ruined what tentative trust the two of them had garnered. 

After returning to the ship, and after putting the Commander into a sort of psychological coma to deal with shock, a HAZMAT team from earth had been called to deal with the issue. Ensuing autopsies had proven that the crew had, in fact, been eating each other despite their being plenty of food left in storage. The remaining survivor, who the commander had been forced to kill in self defense was one Captain Everett Malaney Ex UNSC officer and current freelance ship contractor for both tourist and colonist divisions. By all right he had been an upstanding decision. 

His autopsy had shown that advanced scurvy including kidney failure was the main reason for his monstrous appearance, bruised skin, thinning hair, infected gums and so on. As for the behavior of the crew, it could only be put down to some sort of exaggerated mass hysteria when people realized they would likely die alone in space billions of miles from home in the blackness of space.

Commander Vir had been….. Ok at that point,  but the subsequent venture into a border-world prison had shattered his already cracked composure.

Conn was the only one who had been able to experience the fall from the man’s own perspective. Watching inside his head as he careened into a psychological spiral that had eventually brought them to the earth for treatment. 

Generally conn would have said that he totally didn’t care about anyone’s mental status, and he still would say the same upon being prompted, but this was something that needed to be taken care of and it needed to be done quickly. It wasn’t his fault he was the only one who would truly be able to handle it.

So there he floated in the darkness of early morning, down the hall and towards the mess hall, a ghost town in the early morning devoid of both the sleeping crew-members and the skeleton crew who were off working at their perspective jobs.

He could sense five minds on approach to the room. Three rudimentary and childish minds, and one completely alien guided primarily by smell and hearing. She was the one to  sense his first, with that powerful nose of hers. She didn’t like his smell, it was a burning and caustic thing that made her uneasy, and generally caused her to sneeze.

The next to notice were the spiderlings underdeveloped noses that were already almost as good as the dogs. They were strange creatures to be sure and Conn wasn’t sure how he thought about them.

Tendrils billowing at his back he floated into the room. 

With a whine of agitation, the dog lifted her head from where she had been grooming one of the spiderlings cradled between her two forward paws. Her tongue was still out from where she had been dragging it down the monstrosity’s back. Finally recognizing that he wasn’t going to leave she went back to her grooming. The soft scritch scritch scritch sound of her tongue on fur echoing around the room. She hadn’t originally known how to feel about the spiderlings, but they did smell oddly like Adam, and they looked enough like puppies that she could almost ignore the fact that they had extra legs.

He floated a bit closer to where the commander was sitting alone at one of the tables pen in hand making soft scratching noises as it moved across the paper.

Clinging to his back, like some sort of grotesque backpack, was another one of those little monstrosities. This one’s name was Glados, and Conn was almost sure that she was entirely a creation of anger and hatred aggressively protective of the commander even more so now that they considered his current psychological state.

Conn was only halfway across the room when the scratching of the pen slowed.

Adam paused, and Conn listened as a chill went up the man's spine. He could feel something watching him. And Conn marveled at that fact not entirely sure how the human could know that he was here when he had made no noise. Glados turned her head and hissed at him, but Conn flicked at her with his mind making her shrink back with a whimper.

Setting down his pencil, Adam turned slowly in his seat.

His expression registered absolutely no shock upon seeing Conn floating towards him. On the surface, he looked older as if he had aged ten years in the past month. He was slightly disheveled too hair mussed over his head, skin pale, with dark circles under his eyes. Everything about him seemed washed out.

“Conn.”  The man said, his voice echoing about the room. It was soft, flat, and uncharacteristic of him.

Conn paused glancing through the man’s mind to get a good look at the paper. His vision wasn’t so good in the dark confines of the ship. Generally his species spent much of its time in the direct light of stars, so much of his world was seen through other people’s heads. He saw the sketchy line drawing of a zombie head with hesitant crosshatched marks of shading.

:”Still haven't bothered to tell your therapist about that?” Conn projected into his mind.

He felt a sudden flash of anger in the man before it faded away dimmed as soon as it had come. That fact made Conn displeased.

He didn’t like the man without some sort of passion, and if he couldn't get happiness he would have settled for anger.

Not that he cared of course.

“No…. I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“You should already know the answer to that.” The commander said turning back to his drawing, “Go on, I know you’ve already looked.”

Of course Conn had taken a look. 

“Why do you insist on getting over this yourself when someone payers her a truckload of cash to help. It seems stupid and prideful.”

“Keep going.” The man prompted.

“Well consider now that I am here you no longer have privacy, so there is no reason to try and hide it anymore.”

There was a deep sigh, and the man tilted back his head. Inside Conn could hear his inner monologue urging his anger down. Conn couldn’t understand what kind of privacy invasion this was, in fact he should have seen this coming, but he still didn't want to explain himself to the strange creature and it’s freaky black eyes.

“Why do you want me to explain myself when you can just read my mind anyway. Why do you need to hear it from me.”

“I don’t need to hear anything, you need to hear it.”

The man paused setting down his pencil and turning again to look at Conn, one of his eyebrows was raised and the expression he had taken on was almost one of a disapproving father, which was a strange expression on a man that spends most of his time in the mental headspace of a 12 year old.

“Why do you care.” 

Con kicked his feet a little causing himself to float upwards towards the ceiling, “ I don’t care accept for your constant inner pity party is putting me off my relaxation time. I did just wake up from a coma after all, and the last thing I want is to have to deal with your dysfunctional thoughts invading my snooping. You see it is very difficult to dig up juicy secrets on the rest of the crew when your ‘oh woe is me’ attitude keeps breaking into my concentration.”

Another little spark of anger, this time a little stronger.

yes , that was good, better to have to moving out and being destructive that way than moving in. However, the human locked down his troughs with an angry twist of his lips, “Will it get you out of my head.”

“Alright.”

“What do I need to do.”

“Nothing really. I am going to say something to you and you are going to respond, that’s it.”

The human hesitated his chin lowered a bit, but eventually he sat back arms crossed, “Ok seems easy enough.”

“Bitch”

The human frowned, “Hold on.”

“Bitch.”

“Hey,” Another flash of anger, “What the hell kind of statement is that.”

“Whiny pathetic bitch.”

The human stood, “Hold on, I said I would play your game, and then you just come at me with insults.” That little spark was growing inside his chest heating up nice and warm. Conn could almost feel it as if it was his own. He liked the sensation. Human emotions were so fun to feel, so fun to play with. They gave him physical sensations he was physically incapable of having.

“Whiny- pathetic - bitch.” he repeated 

“You know what Conn screw you and the horse you rode in on because I have no idea where you are getting this.”

“Really. Someone once told me that actions speak louder than words and here you are moaning to your therapist about how hard your life is, and how hard it is to sleep and how hard everything is wa wa…. Wa.”

The human thrust a finger at him, “You shut your trash mouth. I am not going to be shamed for getting myself help. What I had to go through was rough, and I wasn’t ready for it. I could sit in the corner and cry about it, but here I am getting help holding myself together, so you can just shut up.”

“Doesn’t seem to be working.” “What the hell is that supposed to mean.”

Conn held out his hands to either side, “Look around Commander. Here you are sitting alone in the dark at three in the morning drawing pictures of cannibal zombies. I mean honestly you have gone and lost it. If you really wanted to get better you would probably tell her that you keep seeing him when you look in the mirror.”

“Fuck you Conn. I needed time, I STILL need time, and I will TAKE all of the TIME I NEED.”

If he could have cracked his knuckles he would have. This was fun, “No you can’t. You have a job to do, and by acting like this you are letting the entire crew down.

“Id let the crew down more if I took over not being ready.”

“Then why aren’t you ready?”

The human stepped forward right up in his face. The spark had lit into a flame fanned. The anger was billowing outwards, “I think I deserve to feel like shit for a little while. I watched a man die.”

“You mean the man you killed.” Conn went on smuggly 

The human was even closer to him now, chest to chest, “I DID-NOT-KILL-HIM. I survived. That man may have deserved what he got and maybe he didn’t, but no one died and made me GOD so it's not my place to decide.”

“You didn’t help him though, did you.”

“No, I didn’t, but why was it MY job to help him. Me against an entire prison. The guards weren't going to stop them, they hated that guy just as much as the rest of us, and while we are on the subject. YES I wanted him dead, any normal person would. I’m not a saint, I’m not perfect and yes I have those sort of thoughts. In fact, I got what was coming to me; my punishment was the beating I got. Anyone who blames me for any of that can go right to hell.” The flame was roaring nice and warm now. It was anger, and it was making both of them feel light. Blood ran through their hands and into their heads. 

It felt sort of nice to be mad.

“Oh please, if you really believed that, you wouldn't feel so guilty.”

The human snarled. The dogs and the spiderlings on the floor had retreated under a table, but Glados hissed along with him. “You think I feel guilty because of HIM, no. I feel guilty because I didn’t live up to my own standards. If I really am who I thought I was, I would have helped him no matter what, but I didn't and that's why I am frustrated. I am not the man I thought I was, and that PISSES ME OFF.”

Conn floated a little closer two dark eyes looking into one green one, “You know who you remind me of?”

“Oh please tell me more, I am DYING to know.”

Conn paused allowing the tension to build, “Mr. Everett.”

The room had gone very silent. Glados stopped growling, and her little ears went back, “Take…. That…. Back.” The human hissed in a horse whisper.

“Make… me.” Conn whispered back 

He watched from the Commander’s peripheral vision as Glados crawled across the floor and under the table. He was getting into dangerous territory, but that was no matter. He would manage just fine, “Come on, just look at his career, mirrors your own now wouldn't it. I can just imagine it, the ship goes dark and poor little Adam Vir loses his mind and starts eating the crew.”

A vein was pulsing just above the man’s good eye, “I would not.”

“I wonder what the Drev taste like. I mean Sunny is small enough, you could probably catch her and chop her up into bite sized pieces if you really wanted to.” 

‘I said SHUT UP.” “Why should I!”

The man lifted his hands as if he was going to choke Conn, but held back balling them into fists, “I would never do that, and I don’t give a damn what you say. I would keep my cool, and we would find a way out because that is what we always do.”

Conn shrugged intentionally and quite completely blowing him off as if it was nothing.

“You know it’s just sad. You trying to justify yourself.”

“What do you want from me Conn. Why are you her. Does messing with people get you off or something. Is this some kind of sadistic pleasure for you?” 

There was silence in the room for a long moment. 

Waffles whined below the table, and the spiderlings chirped nervously along with her.

“No Commander.” His voice lost it’s edge, he let it slip take on a more distant quality inside the man’s head.

“These thoughts aren’t mine…..” The human looked on in confusion, the flame in his chest pausing.

“They’re yours.” The flame was snuffed blown into smoke which rose into confusion on his face. He took a step back.

“What are you talking about?”

“None of those words were mine. I stole them all from your own head. All of the insults all of the illogical assumptions.” He grinned, “they made you mad, didn’t they because they didn’t make sense.”

The man just stood there mouth agape jaw working furiously though no sound came out

“You argued pretty heavily with me didn’t you. Thought I was being some sort of asshole….” Laughter, not that he could make the sound, but inside the man’s head he could sound like anything, “I’m not the asshole, Commander...you are. Calling yourself names, doubting yourself. Personally my opinion is that if you are allowed to do it, than I am. I mean if it’s inside your own head than you must believe it.”

“But I don’t.” the man whispered 

“Than what do you believe commander?” He waited there, knowing the answer but watching as the human struggled to find it inside his own cluttered head. Parts of his subconscious doing its best to hide the truth, but then he snagged it. Just a tendril, but it was enough.

He sighed deflating, “I want to feel normal again, I want to get back to work. I wanted someone to be angry at me, someone to yell at me like I won't shatter. I want them to tell me that I am NOT doing as well as I could. I want people to expect MORE from me not less because less means that they believe in me less. Even if I can’t reach it, I want people to honestly believe that I can because maybe if someone believe it, it’s true.”

“You feel like people have been making excuses for you.”

He threw his hands in the air, “Exactly. They’ve been going so easy, they've been so nice, but that's not what I want… It’s not what I need. I know it sounds stupid, but I want someone to come in here and tell me to my face that I need to do better because they'd be right. All the doctors and all my friends they think they are being supportive, and they are, but that’s not what I need. I need expectations.” 

Conn crossed his arms, “Fine, do better. Get off your ass and get back to work.”

He sighed, “it’s different coming from you.”

“Why?”

“Because You know exactly what I want, but you're probably don’t mean it. I don’t need platitudes Conn.”

More laughter. He liked the sound it was fun, and it was a great way to mock people, “Platitudes. Do you honestly think I care about your feelings enough to give you platitudes. I am being honest. I think you’re being a selfish asshole sitting here all alone in the dark coloring when you have a job to do. Do better.” The man was glaring at him again. That little spark in his chest had come back easier than it had before, Conn reveled in the feeling of his anger.

“What do you want Commander, right now what do you feel right now.”

“Probably the desire to strangle you.” Conn didn’t even bother flinching.

“You don’t really want that.”

He sighed in annoyance, “Fine, I don’t want that…. I….” Conn waved a hand trying to prompt him on. Conn could feel it, a sort of buildup of emotion inside the man. Physically it felt like a cap on a shaken up bottle filling his entire body up till just under his head, like he was trying to keep his face out of the water in order to avoid drowning.

“You now what, honestly I’M PISSED OFF. IT’S NOT FAIR DAMN IT. If I could just…..”

“Come on….” Conn coaxed.

“If I could just, clear it all out then maybe I’d feel better, but I have to act all civilized because of my rank. I have to be in control.

Conn waved a hand dismissively and motioned around the room, “Well go on, no one is stopping you.”

“Not on the ship.” The man hissed in return.

“It’s your ship isn’t it. Look around, Commander what is the worst you could do, break a couple of chairs bust the coffee machine , nothing you couldn’t pay for.”

“What if the crew sees. 

“Screw them.” Conn said, “everyone will be better off if you get a little destructive now versus not doing it and being a lot more destructive later.”

THe man held his eyes for a very long moment, “It won’t be pretty.”

“I’m inside your head, I have seen plenty of things that aren't pretty.” 

There was silence for a few seconds before.

“You should probably step back.”

This time Conn did as directed floating back and high watching as the man turned on the spot. His head was bowed, his hands curled into claws at his side. He watched from the sky as one dog and three spiderlings slunk across the room and hid under the salad bar.

He allowed himself to feel the buildup as the man’s hands began to shake uncontrollably, his breathing grew heavy, blood rushed into his face and neck, and then, the cap burst from the bottle….

WIth a scream of anger, almost inhuman the man lashed out with his prosthetic leg kicking the table. The power was enough to snap some of the bolts holding it in place and it hit the floor on it’s side with a crash. Chairs went flying along with creative curses Conn would have to save for later. Silverware crashed onto the ground. Lights hung from exposed wires. Metal screeched as it was dented. Paper was rent and scattered about the floor like confetti. 

Minutes passed by followed a reign of destruction so impressive Conn admitted he actually underestimated what was going to happen. 

The commander  stood at the center of the room surrounded by carnage. His hands were bleeding. He tilted his head back towards the ceiling screamed again and fell to his knees breathing hard. There he went quiet and Conn could feel as the last bit drained from him, dripping onto the floor and dissipating away.

The red faded from his neck and face, and with an exhausted sigh he flopped onto his back one bloody hand resting on his stomach, the other resting on the floor as he stared at the ceiling. Conn floated over, adjusting the gravity field so he sunk to the floor, and lay down as well. Their heads were side by side, though their feet were going in opposite directions.

They lay like that for a minute.

After a few moments, There was a soft shuffling on the floor as waffles slunk from under the salad bar crouched close to the ground, her tail sweeping fast and slow to the ground her ears back.

She scooted closer to the commander, whimpering and yawning with agitation.

The commander patted her ears as he stared up at the ceiling, and she lay against him in the crook of his arm. 

Noise down in the hallway, along with the sound of rushing feet and a group of humans charged onto the deck carrying an assorted array of weaponry. They paused in the doorway to the mess hall from two doorways looking both worried and confused spotting the commander lying amidst the carnage.

“Commander wha-”

The man held up a finger, “SHHH…. Shhhhh.” 

The humans went quiet looking between each other with confused expressions. Dr. katie poked her head around the door frame and glanced around the room, then with tentative steps she walked quietly into the room and towards where the commander lay. She didn’t say anything but paused, then shrugged and slowly lowered herself to the ground, adjusting herself till she was flat on her back staring up at the ceiling. The other humans looked between each other in surprised confusion, but one of the marines shrugged walked forward and lay down on one of Conn’s other sides resting his hands atop his stomach in silent contemplation.

Following their baser social instincts, the other humans followed until, one by one, he was surrounded by an array of human bodies all staring up at the sky in deep contemplation. Conn reached out to them feeling their solidarity to their commander, and then connected the two together allowing the Commander to hear them for one brief moment.

There was silence and then, inside his head.

“Thank you, Conn.”

“don’t mention it.”

...

“Conn.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t EVER try that on anyone else.... ever again.” 

“You have my word, Commander.” 

 Whatever..... its not like he cared.

[snowkatze]

Normal Guys

This is for the Carry On Countdown 2017 (@carryon-countdown) Prompt: Social Media (Day 2) Genre: angst, fluff Word Count: 2118 Summary: Baz texts some guy on a dating app online and tries to forget about his love for Simon Snow.

Factually, they're just lines. A machine could be programmed to write lines like that; yes, he might not even be human. It might just be an illusion that has been granted to me. He might not be who he says he is, he might not be anybody at all. They might be lies, because lying is easy under the cloak of anonymity and online, where there's no eye contact, no mimics, no sounds to give you away. I know that it would be easy and that life might be cruel enough to fool me into believing someone would be able to love me. I know they're just lines. But despite all that, I can't help but look at these words and feel like they're not just lines, but hope.

And they make me think that even I could love again, someone who is not Simon Snow. For that, it is not important whether this is real at all, whether anyone could be capable to love me at all, because after all, I am nothing but lines, too.

Sconeslove2 02:12 am: lol r u a vampire or smth

NormalHuman 02:12 am: May I remind you that you texted me first? Sconeslove2 02:13 am: yeah but i'm disfunctional, what's your excuse?

Sconeslove2 02:13 am: btw ur so posh Sconeslove2 02:13 am: u talk like old people

Sconeslove2 02:13 am: cause ur an immortal vampire

NormalHuman 02:14 am: I am a normal human. It literally says so in my url. And of course, I lie, too.

Sconeslove2 02:14 am: which is suspicious in itself!!!! NormalHuman 02:14 am: What about your url? I can honestly not believe there is another imbecile on this earth who would call himself 'Sconeslove'. So why the 2? Sconeslove2 02:15 am: don't try to distract me!!! ur trying to seduce me aren't u NormalHuman 02:16 am: If I was a vampire, you would be the last person whose blood I'd drink. Sconeslove2 02:16 am: aaaaw because u love me so much? NormalHuman 02:17 am: because your blood would taste disgusting, idiot

Sconeslove2 02:18 am: how do u kno? can u smell it.. cause ur a vampire with super senses? NormalHuman 02:18 am: sure. i kno exactly which smell belongs to ur blood under all the 7 billion people whose blood i can smell at the exact same time

Smelling every person on earth, that would be hell. It's hard enough with the person sleeping across from me every night. Sconeslove2 02:18 am: ahjdaldakl u didn't use perfect grammar. r u tryin to get down with the kids to conceal ur vampire identity

NormalHuman 02:19 am: You simply don't deserve this eloquence. I don't respect you enough. Sconeslove2 02:19 am: it's just my bad influence, isn't it

Sconeslove2 02:20 am: I know you're not a vampire btw

Sconeslove2 02:20 am: My room mate is one and he's ToTalLy different from u

Sconeslove2 02:20 am: TOTally

Sconeslove2 02:21 am: He is the epitome of evil!!!

NormalHuman 02:21 am: And I'm just the nicest person on the planet, aren't I? Sconeslove2 02:21 am: well no but ur not planning my demise, r u? Sconeslove2 02:22 am: or the downfall of literal mankind?!?! NormalHuman 02:22 am: Once again, it is shown how little you know about me. As a matter of fact, both of these things are on top of my priorities.

Sconeslove2 02:23 am: u have a list, don't u

Sconeslove2 02:23 am: a priority list

Sconeslove2 02:23 am: u seem like a person who has lots if lists

NormalHuman 02:24 am: Stop double texting me. Sconeslove2 02:24 am: U FOOL

Sconeslove2 02:24 am: i dont just double text Sconeslove2 02:25 am: I tRIPle text

Sconeslove2 02:25 am: I QUAdriple txt

Sconeslove2 02:25 am: I Sixtriple text

Sconeslove2 02:26 am: Septribble NormalHuman 02:26 am: sTOP Sconeslove2 02:26 am: Octave

NormalHuman 02:27 am: Go to sleep

Sometimes it scares me how much he acts like Snow.

Sconeslove2 02:27 am: why? are u concerned for my wellbeing?

NormalHuman 02:27 am: no NormalHuman 02:27 am: It's just like you're sleep-drunk or something

Sconeslove2 02:28 am: hey

Sconeslove2 02:28 am: is there a reason you're still awake? NormalHuman 02:29 am: just couldn't sleep

Sconeslove2 02:29 am: did you have a nightmare?

And it's almost like somebody actually cares about me. Sconeslove2 02:29 am: again? NormalHuman 02:30 am: yes

Sconeslove2 02:30 am: Do you want to tell me about it? NormalHuman 02:30 am: i'm fine

Sconeslove2 02:31 am: Don't lie to me

Sconeslove2 02:32 am: it's okay, you don't have to tell me

Sconeslove2 02:32 am: I just wish you were alright

NormalHuman 02:32 am: me too

Sconeslove2 02:33 am: Just imagine I'm hugging you Sconeslove2 02:33 am: really hard

Sconeslove2 02:33 am: until you're not sure any more whether I'm trying to show you that I love you or trying to kill you

I can't remember the last time somebody hugged me like they meant it. Nobody ever touches me. Nobody dares to touch me.

Sconeslove2 02:34 am: You know, I'm sort of really good at protecting people

Sconeslove2 02:34 am: I'm exceptionally good at slaying monsters Sconeslove2 02:34 am: And I'll slay your nightmares too

Sconeslove2 02:35 am: until you're happy again

Sconeslove2 02:35 am: I can be your knight in shining armour

NormalHuman 02:36 am: And I can be a normal guy

Sconeslove2 02:36 am: ha

Sconeslove2 02:36 am: I can't imagine anything nicer

Sconeslove2 02:37 am: don't worry

Sconeslove2 02:37 am: You and I, we can be normal guys

That would be nice, wouldn't it?

NormalHuman 02:38 am: Promise me we'll run away together Sconeslove2 02:38 am: of course

Sconeslove2 02:39 am: It'll be the cheesiest love story

NormalHuman 02:40 am: I don't know a lot of love stories

Sconeslove2 02:40 am: How about Romeo and Juliet

Sconeslove2 02:40 am: You know that one for sure

Romeo and Juliet? Been there, done that. But of course I can't tell him that.

NormalHuman 02:41 am: You know they die in the end, right? Sconeslove2 02:42 am: You're a vampire tho

Sconeslove2 02:42 am: You can't die

NormalHuman 02:42 am: Then I'll just lose you

Sconeslove2 02:42 am: Fine, then we'll be a different love story

Sconeslove2 02:43 am: Twilight?

NormalHuman 02:43 am: fuck off

Sconeslove2 02:44 am: You're smiling though, right?

I'm not smiling. I'm crying. Because this is just a dream that I'll never have. Because he doesn't know that my life is actually a pretty crappy novel, and I really do die at the end. Because he doesn't know that I'm the monster in someone else's love story. I don't reply to him for a long time. NormalHuman 02:58 am: yeah

NormalHuman 02:58 am: I'm smiling

He doesn't answer me after that.

I suppose I'll try to go back to sleep, too, then. Tomorrow I'll have to return to Watford, go back to face him. But maybe it's true that one day, I'll be rid of him. (Except maybe I'm only fooling myself; maybe, in reality, I'm pretending like I'm texting Snow, and not some stranger, and that means that, actually, I'm not making any progress at all.)

The problem is that it doesn't help at all. I like Sconeslove2 (Though, really, scones? It's almost too ironic). But I still love Simon Snow, no matter what I do.

In a very, very low moment, I created a dating profile and there he was. Sconeslove2, who seems to understand me better than anyone has before. Sometimes I think he's just as broken as I am, which should make me sad, but somehow only comforts me (Another indication of what a terrible human being I am. Or rather, vampire being.).

We've been talking for weeks now, yet I still don't know his name, and he doesn't know mine. I like it too much to give it up. For once, I can disguise myself as someone else.

When I arrive at Watford, I realize that I have a few new messages from Sconeslove2.

Sconeslove2 01:16 pm: hey

Sconeslove2 01:16 pm: I'm sorry. I lied to you. Sconeslove2 01:17 pm: I don't think we should keep texting.

I stare at the messages, trying to grasp their meaning. He lied to me. I knew it. I knew he couldn't be real; that no one could ever be serious about liking me. It seems like a physical impossibility of the universe. And even though I gathered that something sketchy was going on, I can't help but feel hurt, like I can't breathe any more.

It's okay. I was lying, too. I'm not a normal guy.

He never would've liked me if he had known who I was.

It's okay. NormalHuman 02:23 pm: ok Sconeslove2 02:24 pm: no I'll explain Sconeslove2 02:24 pm: I just don't want to lead you on, ok? NormalHuman 02:25 pm: No it's alright

Sconeslove2 02:26 pm: Remember when I told you you weren't like my room mate at all? Sconeslove2 02:26 pm: That's what I lied about. You and my room mate are actually really similar. NormalHuman 02:27 pm: … NormalHuman 02:27 pm: So you hate me?

Sconeslove2 02:28 pm: no

Sconeslove2 02:28 pm: that's just the thing

Sconeslove2 02:29 pm: I really really like you

NormalHuman 02:30 pm: Then what's the problem? Sconeslove2 02:32 pm: The problem is that you're really similar to my room mate

NormalHuman 02:34 pm: ? Sconeslove2 02:34 pm: that made me realize Sconeslove2 02:34 pm: I think I like him

Sconeslove2 02:34 pm: Romantically NormalHuman 02:35 pm: The epitome of evil? Sconeslove2 02:36 pm: unfortunately

Sconeslove2 02:36 pm: he'd kill me if he knew

Sconeslove2 02:37 pm: he'll kill me one day one way or another

NormalHuman 02:37 pm: Maybe you're wrong about that

Sconeslove2 02:37 pm: You aren't mad?

NormalHuman 02:38 pm: No

NormalHuman 02:38 pm: Actually, I'm in love with my room mate as well. NormalHuman 02:39 pm: And if your room mate is anything like me, he's really good at pretending. So your chances might be higher than you think.

Sconeslove2 02:40 pm: Wouldn't it be funny if we were actually room mates? NormalHuman 02:40 pm: That wouldn't be funny, that would be a fucking miracle.

I smile down at my phone. Maybe at least Sconeslove2 can be happy. He wouldn't have been happy with me anyway. Not once he'd met me in real life.

Sconeslove2 02:44 pm: I'm going to miss you.

NormalHuman 02:45 pm: Me too

Sconeslove2 02:46 pm: Goodbye then, vampire boy

Sconeslove2 02:46 pm: Thank you for helping me find myself

NormalHuman 02:47 pm: Just one question before you go

I can't help it.

NormalHuman 02:48 pm: Is your name Simon? Sconeslove2 02:49 pm: yes???? wtf

I drop the phone. I can hear the glass shattering, but I don't care. I start running. That's too many coincidences to ignore. I make my way up the steps and only stop shortly in front of our door. Then I take a breath and open the door, my heart fluttering nervously.

Simon is lying on the bed, his phone in hand. He doesn't even have the time to look up before I've snatched the phone out of his hand.

The chat is still open.

Sconeslove2 to NormalHuman.

I'm a fucking idiot.

“Hey, give that back!” Snow shouts, but I ignore him and scroll through the chat to convince myself it's still there. Snow stands up and tries to take the phone from me, but I push him away. “I like him,” I hiss. “Romantically. That's what you said.” Now he recoils and blushes. “I – I -” I won't listen to his stammering. I push him against the door with my arm and hold him there.

“Did you mean it?” He avoids my gaze. I press harder. This is important.

“Did you say it just to mess with me?” And he looks up. He looks scared, but I can't tell what of.

“No,” he whispers. I hold his gaze. He doesn't look away.

He's telling the truth. I can tell. It's a lot harder to lie in real life than online.

“You like me?” I ask stiffly.

“Yes,” he mutters and drops his gaze.

“So... You're NormalHuman?”

“Yeah.” “Weird that that's the name you would give yourself...” “What? Because I'm a vampire?” My gaze is dark, and he looks up at me again.

“No... Because you're the most extraordinary human I've ever met.”

“I didn't lie to you about my room mate.” He looks at me sheepishly and I see that he's trying to hide a smile.

“So we both like our room mates.” “A miracle...” “It is a bit funny though, isn't it?” I smile at him. “Yeah... It is.”

#carry on fanfiction #snowbaz fanfiction #carry on #snowbaz #carry on countdown #coc 2017

[headoverhiddles]

Moonlit [Lafayette x Reader]

Pairing: Lafayette/Reader

Genre: Smut 

Words: 4.8 k

Synopsis: You’ve been working at summer camp, Camp Rochambeau, as a counsellor for a while with your closest friends and boyfriend. One night, you and Laf can’t keep your hands off each other... so you’ll have to find a way to sneak something in in the dark of his bunk.  

Warnings: Daddy kink, oral sex, fingering, dirty talk... I think that’s it, lol. Enjoy the sin! 

It's a day like any other at Camp Rochambeau, wilderness overnight summer fun camp. Alexander, John, and Hercules had just come back from the junior camping trip, Thomas and James were supposed to be teaching intermediate swimming, but you were pretty sure James was too sick to even come out of Cabin 6 (and Thomas was too worried to leave his side), Aaron and Charles were on first aid duty, Eliza and Maria were overseeing junior arts and crafts, Angelica and Pegs were doing intermediate archery, which left you and Laf... to the sailing.

"Good day for sailing, at least," you mumble, the breeze blowing your hair, "The lake'll get some good wind power."

"Mmm... I'm sorry, did you say something, ma chou?" Laf whispered, leaning in, "I was distracted by the little juncture of your jaw and your neck, where I always make you squeal." You let out a laugh.

"Lafayette Motier, you frisky fuck!"

He grins, and picks you up while showering a billion kisses over your face. You soon get to thinking about last night, when you two had sneaked out of your cabin once you were sure everyone was asleep to stargaze on the docks. The water bugs were out, as were the fireflies, and it was all so romantic... you half expected Hercules, John and Alex to pop out from the reeds to sing 'Kiss The Girl'. Laf, of course, needed no prompting in that department- he certainly delivered with his lips, as per usual. But, as Washington had a zero tolerance policy on horny teenage antics at his camp ("I've seen Friday the 13th and Sleepaway Camp, I know what y'all are up to behind my back!")  you hadn't gone anywhere with it last night. After an hour or so of simply cuddling beneath the stars, you had somehow gravitated to his lap with your back to his chest, his sweet voice whispering the most beautiful things you had ever heard in french in your ear... and, Laf being Laf, had two fingers up your skirt. You had come so close to the touch, almost tugging your panties down, when you two heard a splash across the lake. Fearing a total slasher flick moment, you had kept yourself huddled behind Laf, who had since put on the macho act and vowed to protect you. The two of you made your way through the forest (which was actually quite creepy at night), and over to the site of the splash... only to find three twelve year olds, peer-pressuring each other into skinny dipping.

Well.

"Off to bed with you!" Laf had barked, scaring the children senseless. You tried to appear angry, but just ended up laughing your head off. The disturbance of what has since been christened the Great Pre-Pubescent Foley Of Cabin 8 (John and Alex's cabin; figures) prevented you from finishing anything with Laf that night. Needless to say, you're looking to fix that.

"A little lost, cherie?" Laf smirks, and you direct your attention back to him as he sets you down. You had finally made it to the docks through the forest path, the warm mid-day sun shining over both of you pleasantly. There were three shores on the small lake, that were each used for different purposes; this one, had a beaten up sign that read "Delaware Beach."

"Hm? No, I was just thinking, babe," you reply swiftly with a smile and a quick peck to his lips. You remove your shirt to reveal the camp uniform over your red bikini, the beach shorts purposely loose so Laf could catch a glimpse of the string of your tiny bottoms pulled tight over your hipbones. His eyes roam your body, and stall at your breasts that are quite visible under the white shirt... that's when you know you'll have to formulate a real good excuse as to why you can't walk tomorrow.

"(y/n), (y/n)! Are we going to learn how to steer boats?" Theo, a cute junior kid who'd been coming here forever, asks you. You nod.

"You betcha, hun."

"Like Moana?!" Philip asks excitedly, bouncing around and almost falling off the dock. Lafayette steadies him.

"More like Hai-hai in your case, mon ami," he deadpans, and you quickly string up the sails.

"All aboard, lifejackets on and secured!"

The children get on the sailboat, and you make sure to bend over in full view of Lafayette's line of sight- he'd get the same view tonight, of course. You hear his breath hitch, but when you turn away, he reluctantly starts the lesson.

As you're sailing past the east shore of the lake, Vernon Point, you find Thomas and James making out in the water, their kids laying belly up and tanning on the dock.  

"I see you're taking the swimming lesson seriously," you smirk, and Thomas breaks away from his boyfriend's lips temporarily to snark back at you.

"A little sun'll do 'em all good... pasty little fuckers."

"I'm telling Director Washington you called us a bad word!" someone shrieks.

"Do it and die, Susanne," the southern counsellor shoots back to the little girl, which seems to promptly shut her up.

"And I see you're feeling better, James," you remark, and James turns around, lips swollen.

"Significantly," he croaks, and Thomas growls ferally, going back in for another kiss. You laugh and shake your head, floating past on the boat. Laf is still up there, giving the rope lesson... what you wouldn't give to have him tie you up with those same ropes, the harsh tug of the material against your raw, sensitive wrists-

"Would you like to take over, (y/n)?" Laf asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and you rip your eyes from his crotch. How did they get there in the first place? Shit.

"Oh! Y-yeah! Okay, so the knot is absolutely key, um... George Eacker, stop trying to knock Philip off the bow, you know he can't swim!"

The rest of the day is agony. Torture. Nothing you had ever asked for. Lafayette's rippling muscles are getting in the way of everything you try to formulate speech-wise, and you can see the outline of his dick beneath his uniform swim trunks... he's so fucking hung that even soft he's prevalent.

The warmth pooling between your legs is even more intense by the time the evening campfire comes around.

"Alright," Hercules says, resting his elbows on his knees as the glow of the fire illuminates his features, "What I'm about to tell you is so scary... so terrifying... so utterly shocking that you'll have to sleep with the lights on tonight! This is the story... of-"

"Jefferson's hair!" Alexander cuts in, wiggling his fingers around and making ghost noises. The campers seem to find this hilarious, but James and Thomas are not amused where they sit with their group.

"The story of the Woodsman," Hercules finishes properly.

"Isn't that the guy from the Wizard of Oz?" Philip whispers to Theo, who shook her head.

"No, that's the Tin Man."

"Are you sure we should really be telling them this story?" Aaron asks, knitting his brows, "It's a little... adult, don't you think?"

"Shut up, Burr," Laf calls, "You are the worst!" John joins in, heckling their friend as Alex laughs into his sugary mug of coffee. Aaron just sighs, throwing up his hands. He was probably the only good counsellor here, who took his job seriously. The children all huddle up and lean closer as Herc begins the story.

"It all started back in '84, when a dude named Jimbo Jones got into a wood-chopping accident..."

As you listen to one of your best friends tell the story in grave, (unnecessarily gory, as only Herc would) detail, you feel Lafayette shift on the log beside you. As Hercules continues to describe the deranged psychopath that stalks the woods of Camp Rochambeau for revenge, you suddenly feel Laf's hand brush the skin of your bare thigh, and wander a little higher. Thankfully, there's a giant blanket over you and a few other counsellors, so nobody can see... Judging by his ministrations, he's getting restless.

"And they say he can jump out of the woods at any time..." Herc looks around ominously, squinting at all the quivering kids, "Yelling his chilling last words-"

"SHOWTIME!" John yells with a maniacal laugh, jumping out from behind a tree swinging a prop axe right into Charles Lee’s head. Charles lets out a bloodcurdling scream, whipping around to glare at his fellow counsellor and mortal enemy. Philip faints into a shaking Theo's arms. Herc has his head in his hands, tears of laughter rolling down his cheeks- even Maria looks a little startled. Alexander high fives his boyfriend, and Laurens sits back down with a dumb grin on his face. Lafayette gives an appreciate chuckle and you both high five Herc. The group settles down.

"Alright- GWash wants y'all in bed in ten minutes!" Hercules calls, then pauses, looking around at everyone. "But we won't tell if you won't." The kids cheer, and you watch Aaron facepalm.

No wonder parents complained about this god damn camp.

"No more marshmallows though, everyone," you say, "That goes for everyone." Thomas stops dead from across the fire, three stuffed in his mouth. You roll your eyes, and Herc speaks up again.

"You know who tells great ghost stories?" he grins. "'Liza does."

Eliza flips her long hair over her shoulder, smiling. "Well... I do know one. But..." she sighs dramatically, peering off, "I don't think you kids can handle it."

"Awwww-!"

"No, no, it's just too scary."

"Nooo, please-!"

"Well..." she laughs, "If you insist. But Peggy'll have to help me, cause she knows this one- the Blue Baby Bonnet."

As two of the Schuyler sisters begin to act out the legend, you feel Laf's hand move even higher, barely grazing the sensitive spot on your inner thigh that gets you tingling. You let out a tiny moan, shifting ever so slightly. At this, he leans in, turning his face away to whisper in your ear, "Hmm, does ma princess need her daddy?"

You suck in a breath, maintaining your smile for appearances and the children around. You clap every time Eliza needs thunder in her story, but you're also invested in what the salacious frenchman beside you has to say.

"I assume you do... why else would ma cherie be so dripping wet?"

"Laf," you breathe quietly, and you feel his long fingers graze dangerously close to your panties, under your shorts. He evades the hem of the shorts, and goes straight for your clit, rubbing small circles through the fabric.

"Ahhh," you moan softly, and Eliza turns to you.

"Well... I mean, that's not exactly the noise her mother made when she came back to find what had happened, but close enough!" She goes on with her story as Lafayette leans in again.

"I wonder how hard I can make you beg for my thick, long cock... how badly do you want it?"

"I want it so badly," you mumble, his beard scratching your cheek as he hums again.

"What do you want, cherie?" His lips ghost over your ear, down to your jaw. You seriously hope no one's watching- it's dark, with lots of shadows cast from the fire, so you're probably good.

"I..." you bite your lip, "I wanna ride your thigh, then ride your dick. I want you to make me cum so hard the whole camp knows it's you who fucked me," you whisper back with a blush, and Lafayette casts his gaze down, chuckling at what might appear to others as a joke you told him.

"In due time," he promises, letting up on his rubbing, and you groan in disappointment. John looks over to you, and sees your face... he knows what it's like to have lots of semi-public sex, courtesy of his kinky shithead of a boyfriend, so he can immediately tell what's going on. He stifles a laugh, and James speaks up now.

"Bedtime, everyone."

"But-!"

Thomas interjects. "Nah, y'all little shhh...oelaces gotta get into bed, so we can too," he corrects himself quickly. James sighs.

"Yes. Remember- wakeup call is seven AM sharp, and Washington makes no exceptions."

"Takes no prisoners, more like," Angelica yawns.

"He sure as hell doesn't," Alexander mutters, "Not even for us big people."

"Oui oui, off to bed," Laf says, clapping his hands, almost a little too eagerly, and you join in with a little send-off.

"Sleep tight- we'll all be in to check on our cabins once we get the fire doused and the pit cleaned up, so brush your teeth and get going." The kids get up sluggishly, moaning and groaning about having to go to bed, so you cross your arms. "Do you really want the real Jimbo Jones to get you?!"

The kids quickly disperse, chatting nervously amongst themselves about the plausibility of the legends they had just been told. Lafayette smirks your way, and you literally cannot even wait until you're off your feet, in his arms, and in his bed. Heading back to the cabin you're supposed to share with Peggy (you switch with Herc whenever she wants to sleep with her boyfriend and you want to sleep with yours), you grab your night stuff, and oversee the bedtime preparations for the kids.

"What's Laffy Taffy doing here?" one of your cabin kids asks you. It's kind of cute how they call him that.

"He's just saying good night to me," you smile, tucking her in.

"Ohhh," she looks over to her friend knowingly, "Does this mean Hercules is coming over to be our monitor again?"

"Uhhh..." you murmur, unsure of how much she knows.

"My mommy says when people like each other a whole lot, they like to hug all night when they go to bed. Is that what you're doing with Laffy Taffy?"

"That is exactly what we are doing, ma petite fleur," Laf comes in behind you with a little boy hanging off his leg, "I love to hug (y/n), more than the world. Do you have anybody you like to hug a whole lot?" You can't contain the smile- your boyfriend is adorable.

"Well, I like to hug my mommy, my mama, my grandpa, my granny, my friend Jessica, my uncle, my dog, my cat, my hamster..." she trailed off, yawning and falling asleep. You look back at Laf.

"Thank god you know how to do that." He flashes you a kiss.

"I have many tiny cousins back in France." He then turns out the light once everyone's in bed. As you're leaving Cabin 10, Herc shows up at the porch, fist bumping you and Laf with a wink.

"Don't be too loud, though," he warns, "Wash's got eyes and ears everywhere."

"Merci. We will keep that in mind, mon ami."

Herc nods. "Got you, fam."

Glancing around conspiratorially and fixing his coat, Herc slips into your cabin to find Peggy in the dark. You giggle, and Laf leads you down the beaten path, illuminated by a plastic battery-run torch kept outside every cabin in case of emergency. Your favourite part of summertime at Rochambeau, while you love being around the kids and the fun outdoor activities, is the shenanigans you get up to after hours. There's nothing more thrilling than sneaking through the brush in the middle of the wilderness to go get down.

When you finally make it to Cabin 4, you sneak in quietly with Laf, making sure not to step on a board or anything that would wake the kids. Thankfully, the bunk for the counsellors in every cabin is placed in the main entrance, so the three rooms that house the rest of the inhabitants aren't immediately near.

Laf takes your hand, easing you on top of him on the bottom bunk.

"Shouldn't we do this on the top?" you breathe, his hands already hurriedly undoing your bra, "In case someone walks in on us?"

"Ma cherie, if we fucked up there, we would break it," he whispers back with a low chuckle, and you laugh, beginning to massage him through his shorts. He responds with wandering hands, feeling down your shoulders and to your hips. Your bra slips out from under your shirt, but before you take your top off, you think of something.

"I'll keep it on, just in case," you murmur, and though Laf looks a little disappointed, he nods. You smirk. "Don't fret, baby... you can still touch me all you want." Lafayette eyes you hungrily, as if he wants to devour you, and you lean down into him, letting his lips latch onto your neck. He groans, admiring the deep purple mark he left on your collarbone.

"How are you going to cover that up tomorrow, mmm?"

"Lots of concealer and an out of season scarf," you grin, and push him down, taking his bottom lip between your teeth. After making out for a few minutes, you start feeling so hot you can barely breathe. Lafayette is dry humping you from beneath, his cock, which has filled out nicely by now, slotted between your legs and providing some stunning friction to bounce back against. But you don't just want to grind against him- you need him inside you.

"You've been such a good girl for me, hm?" Lafayette mumbles affectionately, playing with your hair, "Such a good kitten for daddy."

"Yeah, I've been good," you repeat, letting out a little whine. You want to taste his dick so bad that you begin to mouth kisses down his chest, to his stomach, down to where his penis is restricted tightly against his abdomen in boxers.

"Ahhh, tres jolie," he whispers, watching you slide down, and his eyebrows shoot up when he sees you going down on him.

"I want to taste you for hours," you grin back up, "I wanna watch your face when I take you in my mouth and put these lips to good use." Laf groans.

"(y/n), what you do to me..."

"Try not to moan too loud," you smile, and throw the covers over your head as you settle between your boyfriend's legs. You then take him out of his boxers, feeling the heavy weight of his erection in your hand before giving a tiny lick to his tip. His head falls back into the pillow, a sharp puff of air escaping his lips, and he lets his thigh slide between your legs, so you can ride it. Slowly dragging yourself against him and humming, you continue to take him in your mouth, this time all the way down to the base where a few dark curls tickle your nose. Laf's own nose scrunches up as he pants your name softly.

"So thick," you comment, "You've got such a nice cock, Laf... mmmm...." Closing your mouth back around him, you hollow out your cheeks, taking time to trace your tongue along every vein and unique dip on the underside. A few more minutes of this, the quiet slurping noises under the sheets and bounce of your wet panties against his knee arousing you both, Laf grimaces, rubbing a soothing hand down your head.

"Ma chou, I... ahhh am so close... I do not want to leave you unsatisfied."

Suddenly, you both hear a very small voice emerge from one of the rooms, and see a little kid come over.

"Laf? Herc?" they ask meekly. You stall your movements, hoping the kid can't see the lump under the sheets in the dark. Lafayette swallows, closes his eyes, fakes rousing awake, and smiles warmly.

"Andrew," he says, yawning, "Hercules has gone to get some tea from the mess hall. Are you alright?"

You listen in as the kid explains that he misses his family, and that he is homesick. As Laf is formulating an answer and relaying it to the child, you take him all the way in again, feeling him hit the back of your throat.

"Yesss, I completely understand," Laf tries, biting his lip hard, "H-Have you tried thinking of what they are doing now? Perhaps your mere or pere are sleeping... perhaps they are watching a film?"

Andrew smiles, and from where you are, you hope he doesn't want to go home. That would require Laf getting up and taking him all the way to the nurse's office at the other side of the camp, which poor Martha ran 24/7, to call home.

"Are you alright then, petit ami?" Laf asks, and he has to suppress a moan as you lick him obscenely. After a minute, Andrew answers.

"Yeah. I'm gonna go back to bed. Thanks."

You both exhale a sigh of relief, then Laf waves to the kid as he toddles back to bed.

"That was close," you hiss as Laf pulls the blanket up. He gives you a stern look, and you giggle a little, letting him pull you back up to him.

"I was going to come all over your face without warning," Lafayette whispers to you with a growl, "What a surprise that would have been, non?"

You grin wickedly. "Not an unwelcome one." You continue to giggle, surging forward to capture his lips in a kiss. Laf's head falls back to the pillow so that your body is completely resting on his. His hands find the back of your head, threading through your hair and whispering his intentions to you.

"I am going to fuck you until you cannot move," he growls, soft, innocent personality momentarily broken, "I am going to make you come so hard you will scream my name and wake the whole camp."

"Get down to doing," you whisper back, and roll your hips down against him.

"You are wearing too much, ma cherie," he hisses, and flips you over, making you squeal. He kisses your neck again, pulling your panties down. Tossing them completely off, he brings his fingers to rest on your inner thigh, teasing the soft skin there with little tickling circles. Shivers run up to your core, and you groan quietly, wiggling your hips to try and get him to touch you properly. He smiles, and patters his fingers even closer.

"Is... this what you want, ma fleur?" he asks, eyes wide and innocent. You nod feverishly, and he barely grazes your clit with his thumb. "Oh, this? Are you quite certain?" You glare down at him, and he laughs. "Excuse moi... I think I do, in fact, know what you need." With little warning, he slides two fingers into your pussy, curving them up and eliciting a soft, breathy sigh from you.

"Laf..." you gasp, "Lafayette..."

"Could you come on two of my fingers alone, ma cherie? I bet you could if we tried very hard..."

"Laf, please," you encourage, and he chuckles again, adding a third. You let out a string of not-so-hushed moans, light and airy, and though Lafayette is adjusting himself so that his boner gets a little friction, you marvel at his self control. He was always a gentleman in the bedroom, though- almost disregarding his own strong sex drive for your pleasure first. When you're sure you're going to come, he pulls out his fingers, leaving your chest heaving and fists clenching in the blanket. You look down in disappointment, and all you can see in the dark is his frizzy bun by your stomach.

"Laf!"

"Shhh... we don't want to wake the Woodsman, do we?" he teases, and you swat him as he finally tosses one leg over you. Spreading your legs for him and wrapping them around, you reach under the mattress and feel around for the stash of condoms... pulling one out, you pass it to Laf, and he rolls it on, the crinkle of the foil plus the crickets outside the only sound you can hear for miles. Laf tries to prop your leg up higher and spread himself out a little, but ends up half-slipping off the bed... you have to stifle a laugh at his disconcerted little frown; you always have problems with this- the beds were cramped, mostly because they weren't made for two. George's horny teenage proof cots strike again.

"There, I have figured it out," Laf whispers triumphantly, "If you put your right leg over my shoulder, and I keep my left leg down at the foot of the bed, we can do this." You do as he says, and he slowly eases himself inside of you, the slide easy with how wet you already are. His girth increases as he buries himself further, stretching your walls, and it feels so fucking good you feel you could come on his cock right there.

"Move, ahh, daddy, please," you murmur, taking in a sharp breath, and he draws out, pushing back in even deeper. Lafayette continues to thrust in and out of you, carefully and masterfully rubbing circles around your clit, and you trace patterns down his naked, muscular back.

"Dig them in," Laf whispers in your ear, "Go ahead and mark your daddy, (y/n), ma chou, for I am yours." You cry out softly, scraping your nails up his back, and Laf groans at the stimulation, quickening his thrusts. After a few seconds of moaning, he begins to really pound into you, babbling in french as you squeeze around him and arch your back into his arms. Adding to the already amazing mix of sensations, his hard chest is pressed tightly against yours, massaging your breasts between the two of you and sending sparks of pleasure down to your core.

Suddenly, his foot slips, and it lands on the floor off the bed, but that only spurs him on faster, using his footing for more power and leverage. Driving into you like you need it more than air, Laf whispers all the things he's feeling to you as your breath comes out in short, gasped out puffs.

"Je veux te donner tout mon sperme... tu es à moi, mon amour, tu es la plus belle créature vivante que j'ai jamais vue, j'ai besoin de t'entendre gémir pour moi..." (I want to give you all of my cum... you are mine, my love, you are the most beautiful living creature I have ever seen, I need to hear you moan for me...)

"Laf," you shudder, and he bites down into your shoulder as you come hard around him. He makes sure you have hit your climax before releasing himself, his warm seed shooting into the condom. His body shivers with oversensitivity and exhaustion, the muscles in his arms keeping him up threatening to give out. You ease him down over you so that his head is buried in your neck, and your breath steadies as he makes little noises that resemble a cat. You turn over in preparation for some rest- you had to sleep, as you had to wake up fifteen minutes earlier than the others to switch back beds. You smile, patting his head, and he kisses your earlobe.

"Je t’aime," he murmurs sleepily, tugging off the condom and tying it off blindly. You breathe in the scent of french lavender in his curls as his big arms wrap back around you.

"Je t’aime plus que le monde," you mumble in reply, kissing him on the lips one last time.

-------

The next morning at 7:30 AM in the Mess, Washington looks utterly fatigued.

"What's wrong, sir?" Alex asks, walking by with a monstrous coffee mug, "You look like somebody just ran you over with a double decker tank."

George blinks at him, sighing. "I appreciate that, Alexander."

"Nah, but you do look a little loopy," John tilts his head, throwing one leg over the bench seat, "You good, sir?"

"I was up very late last night, John- some animal near the lower cabins was making a racket. I tried to go out and search for it in the forest, so I could shoo it away, but..." He rubs his temples. "It just kept going."

Lafayette plops down beside you, peeling the lids off the six tapioca pudding cups he had nabbed from the kitchen. "Mon general," he nods, because that's a name that just kind of stuck for George since you had been coming here.

"Lafayette," he nods, "Did you happen to hear the strange creature lurking around your cabin last night?" You pause, and Laf's eyes widen earnestly, reply not skipping a beat.  

"Oh, monsieur, I'm afraid I did not... but I think I did hear an awful disturbance around Cabin 6. Thomas?" he smirks at his close friend, and Thomas and James blush furiously.

"We didn't-"

"There wasn't-"

"I didn't hear any-"

"Well," George nods, "I'll sure have to keep my attention on that cabin. Don't want any of those raccoons."

"No we don't," Thomas grits out at you two, and you and your boyfriend collapse into giggles as George gives you a knowing look- nothing gets past that man.

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