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plasticfangtastic · 6 months

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Cozy Corner Kinktober Day 26 (day 4 for me)

Prompts: 2. Gloves, 28. Uniform (clerical clothes), Kink of choice-- collar sort of

When the Lion loved the lamb

A/N: This is a lil’ fic request from @digitalbath2008 after seeing some of my horny posting– hope you like it!, also probably my last for kinktober hopefully I can do more next yr! The OC in this fic is from my original novel/WIP and has been modified to fit this work– his faceclaim is nikolaj coster-waldau if that helps.

Word Count: 3.4 K approx

TW: Priest kink, smut, angst, sex in sacred/religious grounds which I understand might be upsetting for some, not proofread, top homelander, dilf, blood, older man, OC characther, age gap-- HL is in his mid 20's and OC is mid/late 40s, moral corruption.

Sypnosis: Homelander seeks the only absolution he can receive.

Warm afternoon glow paints every inch of the empty parish with speckles of blues and greens, coloring the worn down carpet, hanging lights flicker off– ignoring him all together.

The room smells of old wood, paper and mold.

Yet he does not dare leave, the stale air sticky on his throat, sticks to him more than the narrow walls– the place so small is a cage, a cage filled with frankincense.

Kneeling in-between chipped and scratched pews, ancient tomes rest in their seat behind him untouched, he whispers words in hopes they would reach something in the ether.

“He doesn’t listen.”

He turns to the light voice, carrying an old jade vase in tow putting it down with a silent thud, the struggling breeze barely pushes the light skirt fabric of his cassock, his sight creeps slowly towards his face, and the dust stain on the tips of his white gloves– he swallows without relief, his throat its dry and scratchy, he tries to speak but no sounds leaves him as the man takes two steps down from the raised podium– his step has no meaningful weight to it yet the floorboards creak beneath the dull carpet regardless.

“There’s no one there listening to you.”

Cornflower blues meet dry pastures– there’s no light in those eyes, no warmth or life these eyes have come from the other side, lifeless and far away as if they’ve only ever lived within death, his skin is sickly and sun burnt, pale as the long blonde locks coming loose around his temple, as he looks down his old golden frames slide down his long nose.

Homelander counted the few wrinkles on his face-- time had been most kind to him even more to his face than it had been before painting white strokes down his temples, he thinks the pale locks would turn white before his face looked his age.

Homelander wants to answer and argue, to chastise him yet his tongue swells as the man reaches his side, placing an unamused hand on the back of the pew before him.

“What is it that you seek, my son? Service has ended for the evening.” He says softly, his voice is as light as a dried stream– Wanted to converse with our father? Not that it would have mattered… he looks away when he sees you.”

The heat brings the cries of cicadas, louder than the winds breaking through the cracks of the old building.

Homelander drowns in air, unable to speak and breathe, his throat aches, he wants anything to soothe and scratch the discomfort.

“I done… I done something bad.” He manages to speak, pushing the painful drought inside him.

Every inch of his body trembles, staring at his naked hands that reek of blood and flames, that reek of disease.

White fingers slither their way home atop his crossed thumbs, giving them a meaningless squeeze, Homelander barely gasps as if all the strength has been robbed out of his being, he feels every muscle on his hand succumb to the touch of cotton.

He swallows, finding some semblance of relief, the knot unbearable, but he seeks the deluded reprieve after all.

His eyes close shut as that left hand draws a cross on his forehead, whimpering as they abandon him again, tilting his head forward chasing his touch once more but meeting the vacantness of his stare once more.

“Bless me father… It has been so long… so long since I last came.” His voice cracks.

“Why?” He mutters.

“I carry this disease in me… I cannot stop… I cannot… I don’t want to stop… I dunno” He cries– it's the only thing that makes me feel alive anymore. The only warmth I have… but I’m so cold… so empty… yet am full of all these bad things.” he sobs, panting so hard his throat closes after every word.

His eyes sting and blur, and the pain in his throat travels down burying roots in his chest, digging and stabbing and twisting into his lungs until there’s no air left in the world, wheezing, desperate for mortal relief, trembling under his firm hand.

He cups his face with that firm hand, tilting his chin until he’s facing him completely, his body puppetered and steered until he it's clinging on the black threads, his eyelashes glued to each other as he tears up, a weary nervous smile creeps on his face as the touch stays for longer, as his other hand caresses his cheeks, pushing his hair back before burying itself inside wheat fields.

Crooking his neck until it's painful, never making a sound as his nails scratch at the rabat wrapped around his waist in return, desperate to tug and tear apart the woolen cloth.

“Father… please… help me… help me…”

There’s blood clinging to hair– he reeks of death and steel, the once sparkling gold is dulled under the life of another, Homelander eyes are desperate, tears flowing shamelessly as his voice shreds, he leans downwards craning slightly as he pulls him.

There’s no smile on this holy man’s face– all he knows is that he sears his lips shut, his kiss is a flash wildfire, but the flame doesn’t cleanse anything for its too short, too chaste, too pure for him, he sees the red on those soft lips, Homelander’s own tongue licks at the impurity wanting to cleanse the holy man on behalf of God.

He wants more, he yearns and hungers for more, he wishes to be set ablaze, to be consumed by the flame held back on this man’s tongue, he wants nothing more but to be born from the ashes left at his feet.

“Are you seeking absolution?” He speaks into him– penance? You think God will give you any of that, my lost son?” His words are heavy yet are nothing but whispers only for this young man’s ears– I don’t think he will, John.”

John whimpers, tethering the edge before he bawls and drops to the ground, before he loses it all, but John is held firmly, his hands are the only thing with enough strength to yaw him before it's too late, with enough power to help him– yet they do not touch him, hid behind the flimsy cotton, they do not wish to touch him.

He is dirty. He’s carrying illness.

Touching him will contaminate him, stain him, soil him.

He who is the only pure thing left… he cannot pollute him, The holy man thinks.

“Is okay… I’ll take all your sins… mortal and venial… I’ll take everything for you… for you who our heavenly father has turned away from… for you whom the only mother you’ll ever have cries for… I’ll take it all for you… so you can still bask in their light… so you have no shames nor guilts left– just as I promised.”

Homelander can only smile lightly, his lips trembling still.

The cicadas scream.

His lips drink him whole, Homelander chips at the wood, carving half-moons into the old bench, biting his lips raw– The older man's rawness gnawing at him, like everything else in this miserable agony, it gnaws at him, it carves a deep pain, that never leaves him, never grows dull, a pain that seeks to consume him and reshape him.

He takes the pain with him, he takes all this guilt with his kisses.

It will get worse before it gets better– Homelander thinks.

The cicadas fade behind the sound of his mouth, the quiet ditty of his tongue cloaked behind his endless gasps, he looks down and away, at the dissarrey of rows that he had pushed to make way for him, he looks down not wanting to shame him but he cannot stop… he knows ultimately that he would take all his sins with him including these… his gaze catching the whiffling wheat coming undone, biting at his fingers unsure of where to go, wanting to bury them on his skin, to meld into him.

His gaze is as endless as the heavens– drool coats his cock, his long flat tongue cleans after himself, he takes him with ease, not gagging, not choking, he takes him as if he’s the very air that he breathes, Homelander can’t look away anymore… All he wants is to watch this spectacle– to see those lips kiss him and pleasure him, he wants to feel all the coldness fade away as he spreads the flames with all his permission.

As his head bobs, Homelander bloodied fingers meet silk, earning a muffled moan.

He comes as his lovers reaction reverberates inside him, knocking his head back like a broken spring as he cries and moans, seeing sprinkles of white before his sight returns.

“Father… Father Amarello, I'm sorry.” There’s nothing to clean him with, but the man doesn’t want it, his messied hair soaked in sweat sticks to his forehead, his cheeks flushed and his collar damp, he offers a sight reserved only for Homelander his tongue holding sin infused seed before swallowing it as if taste sweet like syrup– are you alright?”

“Do you feel empty?” He asks, resting his chin against the padded thigh, his gloved hand giving his half-limp member a couple demanding pumps– have you given me all your sins, my son?”

There’s nothing he wants more in the whole world than for God to let him feel his skin against his own, to feel his nimble fingers pamper him, but no matter how much burdens he willingly harbors on his behalf, that he willingly takes to save Homelander core… he would not touch him with raw.

“… it’s all too heavy.” He whimpers behind pants.

His is a sad smile, jittery knees lift him, planting short kisses, that never grow deep– their tongues are strangers on first name basis. Kissing his forehead, Homelander almost crumbles beneath him, as the hands hold him as if he’s worth more than gold.

As if he’s frail when it's this mortal man with janky knees and unexplained pains that is frail.

As frail as every person that has withered on his hands.

But he’s not… he has transcendent… he it's the link he has left to heaven.

He takes that vile hand that’s mixed with his own scent and what used to be somebody, kissing its heel distracting him enough to have unnoticed the new opening of his cassock, rabat discarded on a pew’s back, he takes that hand and lets him touch naked skin, letting him feel the warm pit that had formed in his navel.

Homelander finds himself holding Father Amarello’s thigh pushing him towards himself, as his hand explores what little it has, feeling the creamy skin, as he pushes more buttons to come undone, feeling the slight muscles and smooth hairs on his torso.

“Leave them all here… leave them inside me…” He hithers, goosebumps growing on him as sharpened claws trace his hips where his eyes can’t see it– I’ll take them all so you can be clean again.”

Wet heat blankets him, filling his lungs heavily, all he can smell it’s this terrible mold and stale air, the breeze has ceased but the cicadas continue their choir practice, weeds don’t rustle anymore and the sun has turned from gold to a mandarin, the church is envelop in this light, watching over him like the grieving face of the Holy Ghost.

He rutted his hips, body twitching after every thrust, every grunt, every push.

Deeper, hotter, excruciating.

He wants to become one with him, he wants their bodies to become the same if that’s the only way he can touch him, Father’s bareness it's not for him to have, only shameful glimpses are awarded but they aren’t prices they’re accidents– claiming he’s sullied, the fermenting disease leftover by him cannot touch him… he doth not wish to return his evils, he said before.

Homelander wants more… the greed… it's not greed its hunger clamoring for morsels, his teeth sinking against the nape of his neck, dampening the cloth, inhaling the sweet aroma that defines him… inhaling these perfume of myrrh and peaches.

He wants kisses but they cannot, he stops him as his finger hooks inside his mouth, Homelander pants his tongue tracing his lover’s jawline, every push shakes the ground Beneath, kisses paint his face and drinks his sweat but aren't pleased.

Lifting his hips and legs just enough to hit the sweet spot, the man can’t stay silent; his stifled moans are now all that fills these sacred grounds, hanging on his shoulders afraid of drowning, afraid of the way his body is transforming for this lamb.

This carnivorous lamb that seeks to molt its wool– sharp fangs scratch at his ear as he grunts and sobs.

“Don’t fret…” He says quietly, clinging on his shoulders pushing them closer, suffocating himself as his body it's covered in salty-sweet sweat, as his body seeks to wash this young man’s spirit, he bares the agony, for the flames are cleansing– God made me strong for you…. you won’t break me, John.”

He should’ve ignore the boy when he first saw him in the gardens, he should’ve never given him a smile, he should’ve never given him his arms, he should have never tempted this frail soul, he should’ve ran before he had had a chance of defiling God’s gift… now he had to be strong– for this young man’s salvation would save millions… God who blessed this lands with these exalted children, who blessed this land with somebody like John… who came to the misfortune of encountering him… who had the misfortune of tarnishing his guileless soul… now God turned away in shame as this boy continued to blacken his spirit as he wondered the wilderness without guidance.

So Father Amarello had to fix it… this was God’s test… the reason he had received the call… that one day unbeknown to him, he would have to restore this pristine soul he had broken so that the world could keep its savior.

As he looked at that sobbing boy, as he felt his violent trust filling him more and more with his thick seed, as his stomach grew, and his legs gave up completely– he saw that boy from the garden, that lost boy too shy to come inside, who had no idea how to pray, who was so afraid of the world around him, who smiled at him so warmly as he listened to his practice sermons.

Wanting nothing more but to clean those tears, so he kissed them, drank them and quench his thirst with them.

He would ask forgiveness on his deathbed for this is one sin he doesn’t wish to be forgiven for… his lips linger on those thin lips, his tongue that’s never pampered another woman much less a man, nervously explored how much he’s welcomed.

Homelander takes him as if he’s the first drop of rain after a lifelong drought.

He tastes of him and peaches.

Homelander slows his trust, they deepen but there’s no frightened momentum, just tenderness left, his cock swelling ready to deliver the last of his venial sins, cupping the older man’s head so his head doesn’t touch the carpet any further.

His heart could give up happily, his whole body light, Amarello feels.

His eyes marginally open just to meet half-lit eyes, the prettiest shade of red he’s ever seen meets him, as the lightness makes more sense.

“Please don’t drop me” He mutters, a strange satiated smile looks back at Homelander as the young man realizes what he’s done– I really need to clean the ceiling.”

Homelander blushes even more than it’s healthy, he lowers them softly, swaying away from the cluttered pews until he’s sitting on the altar where Father Amarello had left that jade vase earlier on.

He looks at the older man straddling his hips, burying his head on his chest, wiping his brow, his hands that had settled so expertly on his back now yearned to discover his hips.

Father Amarello laments his age once more, lifted by invisible strings as the man bounces him on his manhood.

All the strength his mortal body has left amounts to draped arms across his shoulders staying in place on a prayer.

His moans sing his praises, that lost lamb continues to bite, unable to stop that nervous choked laugh as he watches his every expression, watching the holy man crumble delightedly.

His legs just dangling on his sides, his own cock leaking all over Homelander’s suit.

“Father… is okay… you can feel good… too.”

“No… I can’t… is not… it's obscene…” he gasps, closing his eyes harshly, his whole face tense as the boy lifts him further to drop him harshly– please my child… just… just don’t think of this vessel… just empty all your sorrows without thinking of me.”

“But you kissed me.” It bites him, drawing blood that’s not there, he feels that fanged lamb tearing his throat into gorey strips, as bloodied lips seek to swallow his voice– It’s all I can do… I want to thank you for all you do for me.”

Tear stains clean by his gloved hand, he doesn’t know what to say left speechless by the kindness in his voice, his lips tremble but no sound leaves them, Homelander is quick to do as he pleases, as he had done before.

He can’t remember anymore, how much he’s cummed, all he knows it's that the cicadas are gone, that the sun is almost asleep, the blue glow of the incoming night doesn’t take away the sweltering heat, it doesn’t help him feel less suffocated.

Homelander swallows blessings, takes his righteousness with each pump, his tongue messily slobbers all over a member that no longer can stay fully hard, he warms it… with this heat it's just burns him more like it, Homelander thinks as his cheeks hollow around it, watching him cumming dryly as his fingers mix and froth the seed he’d left behind, Amarello’s leg just throw over his shoulder as limp as most of him.

Yet his fist is tight, skin callusing as he grips the carmine beads that tug at the tied rosary on Homelander’s neck, the collar that keeps him calm.

His free hand pumping his cock to the rhythm of his lazy licks.

Homelander lets out a wet hiss before cumming into his palm, slithering towards the older man whose dazed gaze no longer sees anything… woken up from this trance by a familiar flavor– his tongue cleans his fingers until they glisten, sucking on them as hungrily as John had been before, he can only watch at his only lifeline to god washes him with spit with feline grace.

He’s enthralled as the sound digs into his brain, as he sees all that’s wrong with him it's taken away.

This holy man bore all these indignations to help him.

Homelander understand that this world needs him, needs him more than they’ll ever understand– but he cannot be the only one that has to make sacrifices… he can only carry so much burden before he explodes under the weight.

For this man it's benevolent, he’s kind, he’s bounteous in his efforts… in his love, he will carry that weight on his behalf so he can continue his duty.

He cries as the man cups his cheek, his covered hand leaves a print as it struggles to settle on his sharp cheekbones.

“Is alright… John… he isn’t mad at you… just at me…”

“I didn’t mean to kill those people.” he whimpered– I got so angry. I am so sorry for all I’ve done…”

“Don’t think of it any further my son… my soft John… it’s all here… all your sins are gone and now reside in me… give thanks to the lord, for he’s good.” He musters a weak smile– save a life… any life… no matter how wretched… just one as penance my delicate son… continue to use these blessings from the lord… do it for me… do it for my blessing too.”

Melting as he opens his lips ajar with nude fingers, shuddering as he feels his incandencing touch, hotter than the sun could ever be, burning him with tenderness, he’s delicate yet firm.

“No matter what you do… I’ll absolve you… for you are good… you’re a savior… my child.”

“Yes… Father…” he chokes back a sob.

Homelander sits once more looking at all he had almost broken in his fever, feeling light… feeling the room grow bigger, he awaits for the priest as he comes carrying a small basket of peaches.

His hands playing with the carmine rosary as he watches him.

“They’ve sprung like weeds… too many, even the rabbits and deers don’t want them… take some before you leave… you look thin…” he’s voice is pained from the strain on his body, but his concern is genuine– did you hear the sermon today?”

He nods lightly.

“You know you can come in… I know crowds are hard for you… but you shouldn’t be afraid… but then again I hate public speaking.” he scoffs playfully, taking a ripe peach off the pile.

In this disheveled state he still jumps back as the golden juices spurt, not wanting to dirty his clerical uniform, the juice stains his hand and chin, offering the bitten peach as it drips onto the ground.

He wants nothing but to reject him, but his mouth opens as he falls under the spell of his gaze.

Homelander's heart skips a beat as those lifeless eyes remind him that he’s nothing but a feeble lamb as the old lion still has claws and fangs.

#personal #homelander #homelander fanfic #cozy corner kinktober #homelander x oc #the boys fanfic #lowkey want to write a prequel but dont know if anybody wants that #els so sorry for grammar #my fic tag #homelander fanfiction

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enchantedlandcoffee · 11 months

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If the world was ending, you'd come over, right? - Part Sixteen

Part Fifteen

☆☆☆

"You conveniently forgot to mention the kissing part, mate."

"Kissing?!"

"Cheers, Nialler." Louis scoffed as Niall hugged the pillows close to his chest, preventing Louis from attacking him again.

“When and why was there kissing?” Liam asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at Louis. “Last I remember, you and Harry couldn’t be in the same room as each other without someone or something breaking.”

“Well, we’ve both become mature adults since then, Payno.” Louis sassed, sighing at the unamused look Liam sent his way. “We’ve talked, okay? Not about everything but…we’ve talked. He’s good. I’m good. There will be no more ‘breaking’ of people or objects in the immediate future, okay? At least not on my part.”

Liam looked at Louis for a minute, almost like he was analysing him, making Louis want to either curl up into a ball or attack. Thankfully, Harry chose that moment to exit the bathroom, directing the newcomers' focus on to him and giving Louis a slight reprieve from all of the attention.

“Harry!” Niall bellowed, flinging himself off of the sofa and at Harry, causing him to stumble back slightly.

“Niall,” Harry greeted, his voice muffled by the Irish man's hair. When he managed to untangle himself from his friend, he turned slightly to face the rest of the room. "Zayn, Liam, nice to see you again. Were you expecting company?" He asked Louis, looking at him confused, and slightly hurt.

“The gang here were concerned for your wellbeing so decided to pay me an impromptu visit.” Louis answered through gritted teeth, annoyed at whatever Harry was implying.

“Yeah, we were worried Tommo here had killed you or something,” Niall joked, missing the tension in the air.

Zayn, however, did not.

“Right, lads,” he announced to the room, “it's time for mission Larry Stylinson.”

Liam and Niall sprung into action immediately, Niall grabbing Harry's arm as Liam scooped Louis up in his arms. They both headed towards Louis' bathroom, ignoring the protests from their hostages as they deposited them in the room and quickly shut the door behind them, locking it for extra measures.

☆☆☆

Part Seventeen

Tagging @hl-obsessed @lunarheslwt @justahappycloud @babyhoneyheslt

#harry styles #louis tomlinson #one direction #larry stylinson #larry fanfic

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aestheticsworldasmr · 1 month

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Exploring the Soothing Sounds of Tapping and Scratching

In the hustle and bustle of modern life, finding moments of tranquility can feel like a rare luxury. Yet, amidst the chaos, there are simple pleasures that offer solace and relaxation. One such delight lies in the rhythmic and textured qualities of tapping and scratching sounds.

In recent years, these sounds have captivated the attention of many, gaining popularity for their ability to evoke a sense of calm and comfort. Whether it’s the gentle tap of fingers on various objects or the soft scratching of fabric or plastic, these auditory sensations have found a special place in the hearts of countless individuals seeking respite from the noise of everyday life.

Tapping into Tranquility

There’s something inherently soothing about the rhythmic pattern of tapping. Whether it’s the soft rhythm of raindrops on a windowpane or the steady beat of fingers on a tabletop, tapping sounds have a way of grounding us in the present moment. They offer a sense of structure and order in a world that often feels chaotic and unpredictable.

The appeal of tapping sounds extends beyond mere auditory pleasure. Many people find that these sounds help them focus and concentrate, making them perfect companions for work or study sessions. The repetitive nature of tapping can lull the mind into a state of heightened awareness, allowing for greater productivity and clarity of thought.

Scratching the Surface of Serenity

In addition to tapping, the gentle scratching of fabric or plastic holds its own unique allure. There’s a tactile quality to these sounds that is deeply satisfying, reminiscent of the feeling of running one’s fingers over a textured surface. The soft rustle of fabric or the subtle friction of plastic against skin can create a sense of intimacy and comfort that is hard to replicate.

For many, the appeal of scratching sounds goes beyond mere relaxation. These sounds have gained prominence in the world of ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response), a phenomenon characterized by tingling sensations in response to certain auditory or visual stimuli. ASMR enthusiasts often seek out videos featuring gentle scratching sounds to induce feelings of calm and euphoria.

Finding Harmony in Sound

In a world filled with noise and distraction, the simple pleasure of tapping and scratching sounds offers a welcome reprieve. Whether you’re seeking relaxation, focus, or simply a moment of peace, these auditory sensations provide a gateway to tranquility. So the next time you find yourself overwhelmed by the chaos of life, take a moment to tune into the soothing sounds of tapping and scratching — and let yourself be carried away on a wave of serenity.

DOWNLOAD NOW:https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.AestheticGames.SoundArtists&hl=en_US

#gaming #satisfying #video games #asmr sounds #usa #foryou #trendingnow #viral #trend #art #ai

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rosesloveletters · 3 years

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I want to thank you all for still being so kind to me. I am so very sorry for this prolonged absence; this week has been literal hell and my health is beginning to fail because of it. I still need some more time to myself, though I have considered some things and I will be coming back once my life is back to normal.

I’m also spending a bit of time with my book and another character. I won’t speak of him here, since this is a HL blog (and he isn’t a F/O) but I’m letting myself indulge in something different for a bit to climb out of the monotony and he is the only reprieve I’ve gotten all week. Not that Heath is monotonous, but I think it is important to experience some other things from time to time.

Thank you for all of the love you’ve shown me. I really appreciate it; it’s been much needed. I promise I’ll be fine and I’ll be back as soon as I’m doing better. I do not mean to worry you all and I hope I haven’t done so too badly. I love you all and I hope to return as soon as I can.

#my stuff

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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years

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To be cradled in his arms, finally safe inside yourself // J x Lilith x Pat // OT3 comfort cuddles.

Summary: ^^^^ that’s it, that’s the fic. Lilith-comfort centric because darling, you’re their centrepiece!💜 J refers to himself as “Daddy” at least once in this fic; it’s a comfort for you so that’s why I included it.

Word count: 1, 432.

You were exhausted.

You never got any time for yourself during the day; you always had to be going out to work or running errands for others, and nothing ever stopped for you until it was the later hours of the day. You stayed up late and denied yourself sleep because you never got any time to yourself, you never got any time to relax and to just be and as a direct result of that were you always truly so tired. There was little which J or Pat could do to help you; they could only watch as you did your best and still was it not enough, and still were you pushed to almost beyond what you could handle each day. You were given little to no reprieve in your life and it was wearing you down more and more with every passing day.

Pat and J could only watch as you became a shadow of your former self; so tried and so tired within your unforgiving routine and of the countless demands which were placed upon you each day. With more that you received and the later it became in the evening before you could relax did you stay up later, as if you were able to compensate for the absolute lack of free time during the day... and so you were more tired the next day and on did the cycle go, as regular as clockwork.

On this day were you working... again. Pat had been wanting to have a film night with you and he had bought some of your favourite snackies, like goldfish, and there was a stack of your favourites on the coffee table. J had replenished your Monster stock and the cans were chilling in the fridge. They would be ready and waiting for you, ripe for the taking. Everything was prepared and both men had cleared their schedules so that they could spend some real time with you this evening; both of them so dearly missed you, though of course was only one of them vocal about it. J was always the more subtle of your two loves and you loved him for it. The plan for the film night was postponed until after you finished work, and as the door closed behind you as you left did both men realise that you were in danger of becoming physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually exhausted.

They had to act now.

Indeed, when you came home from work, tired and exhausted and fed up of being spoken to like you were nothing more than a piece of the booth you worked in; you were something to be spoken at rather than spoken to, Pat and J descended upon you like the angels that they are and made sure that you got showered and ready for bed. Dinner was one of your favourites and J made sure that you ate every bite. Sassy were you and so you showed J that each mouthful was swallowed. Pat, for all his humour, would chuckle and he kissed you after each time so that, as you progressed further into your meal did you begin to taste Pat around the food he had made for you.

J kept just as much of a watchful eye on you as you ate. “Ya’ gotta eat it all, babydoll. Daddy won’t acc-ept anything less.” Even as he spoke did J’s eyes eyes fall upon your empty plate. “Atta’ girl,” the heartfelt praise made you smile and you saw the minute upward quirk of J’s own lips in response. Oh, how deeply in love the two of you were after twelve years together. There would only be more and more time together, so destined to be were the two of you. Planets had collided and stars had lived and died and from their ashes had the two of you formed; written were you like constellations. Soulmates would always find each other, no matter how far either of you went or who you became or even if you spent time apart, and you and J were never any different. You had spent time apart once, and it had been a long time, but absence did make the heart grow fonder. In recent years had you become involved as the romantic couple which you were today and Patrick had very recently joined you.

He and J were still finding their way together and sometimes did you have to act as a mediator between the two of them, but when either of them was threatened by something or someone was the other there to defend and to protect, and it spoke loudly about how they truly felt about each other. They were as in love with each other as you were with the both of them; your love languages as individuals were quiet and for some, difficult to hear when spoken, but for each other were your love languages loud and clear, like a bell. Indeed did such a beautiful noise ring off into the atmosphere when the three of you were together, undeniable was your connection even to the most sceptic and ill intended outsider.

J took the plate from you with one hand and he affectionately ruffled your hair with the other. You huffed and pulled your head back in mock irritation, and one of the stitches of J’s leather gloves snagged on your hair. “Ow, shit, J - “ J shushed you thrice with a touch of impatience as Pat easily and naturally took the plate from J, knowing J’s body language as well as he knew your own by now, and J used his newly free hand to ease your hair free with as little pain as possible. You were in no mood for this and you all knew it.

“I got’cha, Hyena, easy,” J shushed you again as his hand rested atop your head for a moment and then he bent down at the waist to press an almost bruising kiss to your forehead. You could feel the outline of his teeth through the plush flesh of his full lips and you closed your eyes so that you could fully sink into the affectionate gesture and enjoy everything that J was giving to you. So relaxed were you now that you yawned hard enough for your jaw to crack and Pat was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes again.

“Hey, girlie,” A gentle touch to your cheek was accompanied with the slow stroking of fingers, “How about we get you to bed so you can get some sleep, huh?” Pat’s voice was soft, caring, and the deep tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. The hand which was on your face moved down to grab your hand, hsi fingers sliding easily into the spaces between your own, and Pat tugged you up, up, until you were standing up to your full height. Pat pressed a kiss to the same space where J had just bestowed his own love, and Pat led you to the bathroom and then to the bedroom, where you got ready for bed. J, for his part, carried out his checks, and when at last were you all ready for bed and J was done, the world was put away for the day.

Bedtime was your favourite time of day because the world melted away and it was only you with your two greatest loves. There were no responsibilities, no duties, nothing you had to do or be.... you could simply be yourself and the two men, burdened with reputations neither had necessarily asked for. though they worked them to their advantage when it was necessary, could join you in being their most genuine, freest selves. It took no time at all for the three of you to get comfortable in what felt most natural to you, and with murmured declarations of love, quiet shushing from J and gentle murmurs of comfort from Pat, you fell asleep surrounded by warmth, love and safety. You deserved nothing less than this and though you were stressed beyond belief and completely shrouded in the darkness which was within you, the darkness which called out to the darknesses in both Pat and J and received a call in response, meant to be were you three, you knew that you would be able to make it through every rise and fall, for your clown and your Aussie would allow nothing less than the best for their precious Hyena, for their beautiful One, for their Lilith.

For their you.

HL OT3: @tsukiakarinobara @1-800-dead-inside @antonija89 @hotpacino @call-me-harley-quinn @jokershyena

#patrick x ledger!joker x lilith #ledger!joker x patrick x lilith #heath ledger #ledger!joker #patrick verona imagine #10 things i hate about you #tdk

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theonyxpath · 5 years

Link

Chicago is!

If you remember the original Chicago By Night cover art, this is the same scene – this time illustrated by Adrian Majkrzak – but the point of view is reversed. A nice call-back!

Of course, all this Chicago referencing is because we are currently running a Kickstarter campaign for our new Chicago By Night book for Vampire 5th Edition. So far, we crushed the funding goal in half a day and have blasted through several Stretch Goals.

Sincere thanks to all of you who have backed and made this possible!

We’re very excited about the additional projects being built by the Stretch Goals: first, the Chicago Folio, an in-character artifact book compiling diary entries, transcripts, emails, and other treasures to use in the course of a V5 chronicle, especially useful when utilizing the characters and plots from Chicago by Night. We’ve already added the Camarilla Record section and the Anarchs Accounts section to the Folio via Stretch Goals, so let’s see what else we can add!

Second, we have Let the Streets Run Red, a PDF supplement set in and around the Chicago and Midwest area, incorporating characters absent from V5 Chicago by Night and exploring the activities of Indianapolis, Milwaukee, and the rural Illinois, Wisconsin, and Indiana areas. The first section, starting in Chicago, is our current Stretch Goal and almost achieved at the time I’m writing this!

If you are interested, you can check it out here:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/200664283/chicago-by-night-for-vampire-the-masquerade-5th-ed/description

Like all of our recent KSs, backers are getting sections of the text that will add up to 95% of the full text for the book before this KS is over. So if you are concerned over the writing direction, or that it might get changed before it’s published, here’s your chance to see all the words before they go to editing.

Trinity Continuum: Aeon illustration by Michele Giorgi

As part of our ongoing outreach to let our community know all about the V5 Chicago By Night Kickstarter, the developer, our own Gentleman Gamer Matthew Dawkins, will be hosting a Q&A to answer your many many questions! In fact, here he is now:

“Matthew here! I’ll be hosting a live Q&A on my YouTube channel focused on Chicago by Night, but in which you can ask me anything (within reason) and I’ll answer (probably)! I’d love for you to join me, and we can all discuss the Chicago project and how it’s doing so far.”

It’s on Friday 9th November at 22:00 GMT right here: www.youtube.com/user/clackclickbang

Trinity Continuum Core illustration by Felipe Gaona

Mirthful Mike Chaney wants all of you prospective Exalted artists out there that he’d love to see your stuff! Just follow the submission guidelines on this site, and if you can create illustrations along the lines of the artwork you’ve seen in Exalted 3rd, the monthly EX3 releases, and the previews of Dragon-Blooded – then he wants to see your stuff! (As a note, Chibi style isn’t really what we’re looking for, as much as we love it).

Eddy Webb notes that he has a special deal going on with Pugmire‘s Canis Minor Community Content site, like so:

I need to cut this one a bit short this week folks. I lifted weights with the intention of getting back some tone in my shoulders and now that one muscle sort of along the shoulder blade is REALLY hurting.

Makes it very hard to type, actually. Fortunately most of my work this week is talking and coordinating and not art and writing!

Trinity Continuum: Aeon illustration by Jon Reed

So, one final note that this Friday’s Onyx Pathcast features an interview with “Diamond” Dave Brookshaw, who is not only developer of the Mage: The Awakening line and lead dev on Deviant, but I think still holds the record for the writer who has worked on the most of our game lines. Certainly, his knowledge of our lines (and other things) is vast, so expect some excellent talkin’.

Plus, Dave having worked on so many of our game lines means I can segue right into him knowing all about:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

Lo the darkness that lies like a pall over Chicago.

The V5 Chicago By Night Kickstarter went live as planned last Tuesday and blew through its funding goal in half a day, and is currently at over a thousand backers in just one week ! Congrats to the whole team and all our backers, and we’ve already started to pass through several Stretch Goals and activate additional projects!

We’d be thrilled if you’d give it a look here: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/200664283/chicago-by-night-for-vampire-the-masquerade-5th-ed/description

Next up, we’re working on the Kickstarter for They Came From Beneath the Sea! (TCFBtS!), which has some very different additions to the Storypath mechanics we’ll be explaining during the KS. They take an excellent 50’s action and investigation genre game and turn it to 11!

ELECTRONIC GAMING:

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is both rolling and rocking!

Here are the links for the Apple and Android versions:

http://theappstore.site/app/1296692067/onyx-dice

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.onyxpathpublishing.onyxdice&hl=en

Three different screenshots, above.

And our latest, the dice for Werewolf: The Forsaken 2e:

ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue you bought it from. Reviews really, really help us with getting folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Endless Ages Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Rites of Renown: When Will You Rage II (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Ascension: Truth Beyond Paradox (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: The God-Machine Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Curse of the Blue Nile (Kindle, Nook)

Beast: The Primordial: The Primordial Feast Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Masquerade: Of Predators and Prey: The Hunters Hunted II Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: The Poison Tree (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Songs of the Sun and Moon: Tales of the Changing Breeds (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: The Strix Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Forsaken: The Idigam Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Awakening: The Fallen World Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Beast Within Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: W20 Cookbook (Kindle, Nook)

Exalted: Tales from the Age of Sorrows (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Tales of the Dark Eras (Kindle, Nook)

Promethean: The Created: The Firestorm Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Demon: The Descent: Demon: Interface (Kindle, Nook)

Scarred Lands: Death in the Walled Warren (Kindle, Nook)

V20 Dark Ages: Cainite Conspiracies (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Strangeness in the Proportion (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: Silent Knife (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Dawn of Heresies (Kindle, Nook)

OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there!

https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

And we’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

Here’s the link to the press release we put out about how Onyx Path is now selling through Indie Press Revolution: http://theonyxpath.com/press-release-onyx-path-limited-editions-now-available-through-indie-press-revolution/

And you can now order Pugmire: the book, the screen, and the dice! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=296

DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

This week, we are releasing the Advance PDF for the Promethean book Night Horrors: The Tormented! This Wednesday on DTRPG!

“The Pilgrimage ain’t got no shortcuts, no quick fixes. Heck, even death’s not a reprieve for us. So you pick yourself up now, and you keep goin’. I promise there’s light at the end of this tunnel, even if the walk takes forever and a half. Just mind those that’d get in yer way.”

— Sister Meshé, Tammuz Sage

Night Horrors: The Tormented includes:

• More than 50 Storyteller characters, including Centimani, Pandorans, alchemists and genitors, qashmallim, clones, and Zeky

• A new way the Pilgrimage can go awry: petrificatio

• Two new Flux Alembics

• Plot hooks and story seeds for your Promethean: The Created chronicles

• An in-depth look at the Zeky, complete with rules to play one, and clones

• A close examination of the enigmatic Jovian

CONVENTIONS!

THIS WEEK! Matt, Monica, Bill, Crystal, and other Onyx Path writers and developers will be at GameHoleCon in Madison, WI November 8th – 11th running demos of Pugmire, Scarred Lands, and more! https://www.gameholecon.com/

Rich, Lisa, Matt, Eddy, Dixie, Danielle, and other Onyx Path writers and developers will be at PAX Unplugged in Philly, November 30th – December 2nd running demos of Scion, Monarchies of Mau, Exalted, and more! http://unplugged.paxsite.com/

Start getting ready for our appearance at MidWinter this January in Milwaukee! So many demos, playtests, secret playtests, and Onyx Path Q&As you could plotz!

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM FAST EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

C20 Novel (Jackie Cassada) (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Scion Ready Made Characters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion Jumpstart (Scion 2nd Edition)

Geist2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Memento Mori: the GtSE 2e Companion (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Distant Worlds (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Redlines

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Witch-Queen of the Shadowed Citadel (Cavaliers of Mars)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Development

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Night Horrors: Shunned by the Moon (Werewolf: The Forsaken 2nd Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Spilled Blood (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Wr20 Book of Oblivion (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

CofD Dark Eras 2 (Chronicles of Darkness)

Manuscript Approval:

V5 Chicago By Night (Vampire: The Masquerade)

Tales of Excellent Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

Editing:

Signs of Sorcery (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Aeon Aexpansion (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

C20 Players’ Guide (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

Dystopia Rising: Evolution (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Adventures for Curious Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

In Media Res (Trinity Continuum: Core)

Post-Editing Development:

Ex Novel 2 (Aaron Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Indexing:

ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

Dystopia Rising: Evolution – Pretty much all contracted.

Geist 2e

The Realm – Yihoung on the fulls. I will probably get Gunship going soon.

Trinity Continuum (Aeon and Core) – Aeon sketches coming in.

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Chicago By Night – KS moving along.

C20 Player’s Guide – Contracted.

Aeon Aexpansion

They Came From Beneath the Sea! – Getting more KS art since we have a little time.

Lost 2e Jumpstart – Art contracted.

EX3 Lunars – Getting KS art.

Signs of Sorcery – Contracted.

Marketing Stuff

In Layout

Trinity Core – Working.

Trinity Aeon – Inputting 2nd proof notes.

M20: Gods and Monsters – With Josh.

Pugmire Roll of Good Dogs and Cats

Proofing

Scion Hero – Backer PDF is out, errata coming in.

Scion Origin – Corrections are in.

Ex3 Dragon Blooded

CtL2 Jumpstart – Adding in corrections.

At Press

Monarchies of Mau and Screen – At Studio2. Dice and buttons at Studio2. Shipping to backers soon.

Wraith 20th – Printing the Deluxe interior, proofing cover this week(???).

Wraith 20 Screen – Printing.

Scion Dice – At Studio2.

Lost 2e Screen – Off to printer.

Scion Screen – Off to printer.

Changeling: The Lost 2e – Printer getting started.

Fetch Quest – Files sent to printer.

Exalted 3rd Novel – Going out to backers this week.

PTC: Night Horrors: The Tormented – Advance PDF on sale this Wednesday on DTRPG!

TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE:

Remember, remember, the fifth of November Gunpowder treason and plot We see no reason Why Gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot…. I just love V for Vendetta!

#Onyx Path Publishing

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