#maybe someday if I’m gonna be ignored lest let me be ignored

[amwritingmeta]

15x19: A First Ending

This was a good episode! Oh, I know, I know - we didn’t get Cas back. But oh, boy, that should mean that Misha shot for five of eight days for 15x20 and that makes me want to rub my hands together with the hope of what that might mean. All the good things!

Oh, don’t hang your hopes on mine btw. I had very high hopes that we’d get Cas back, or very strongly established as coming back (as per 13x04) with a final scene of him waking up in the Empty or something like it, and that didn’t happen, but omg I’m so glad they didn’t.

When Jack started praying and reaching out to Cas my heart almost stopped. 

If Dean doesn’t instigate Cas’ return, then oh it would take away too much!

But then Jack’s moment didn’t lead to anything, and now, the more I think about it, there more it feels like a plant. A reminder of how he prayed to Cas the last time, and woke him. We shall see, eh?

And then we got Dean telling Chuck to bring Cas back, which was a pivotal plant as well. I’d been worried if they hadn’t mentioned Cas more than once, with Dean telling Jack and Sam that Cas sacrificed himself to save him, yeah? 

If there had been no more Cas for the entire episode then, narratively speaking, I would have started wondering what role Cas might actually play in 15x20.

But Cas was mentioned more than once. We even got to hear his voice and have that fake return to stir our... I almost wrote loins, but that’s not appropriate so let’s change it to stir our... martinis. 

Ah yes. We could all use a drink, I’m sure.

The dog as well! Dean was so happy and he carried the dog and petted the dog and put it in Cas’ spot in the backseat and was all, yes, emotional substitute! And then... poof. Because it’s not going to be that easy to replace Cas. *fingers crossed*

Here’s mostly why I’m hopeful for something quite different as the actual finale of the show, the proper wrapping up of these character journeys:

This first ending is for those who have followed the show explicitly to watch these two brothers. (yes there’s a word for them but let’s not)

It ends exactly how these viewers -- and quite possibly the writers who wrote it -- always saw the show ending. It gives an emotionally satisfying wrapping up of all the thematic threads of the show and gives the brothers their hard-won freedom, and keeps the brothers riding in Baby, together, indefinitely. 

And these viewers and fans will always be able to stop watching the show there and keep that as their perfect ending.

Except it’s not the ending-ending. Is it?

This episode neatly and gorgeously wrapped up the Michael/Lucifer/Chuck storyline. It wiped the slate completely clean. Especially with Michael killing Lucifer and Chuck killing Michael. These characters just completely annihilating  each other because they’ve all served their purpose.

And Chuck being drained of his powers and ending up ignored, never to be worshipped again, or even remembered, is such a fitting ending for him! And with Dean refusing to kill him, leaving him to his fate, I’d call that Dean integrating his Shadow.

No more fearing it. It’s powerless. Thanks to Jack (Dean’s inner child) who now holds all the power in the universe.

I’d say Dean Winchester has reached a point of internal balance.

And for all of these good things: Chuck powerless, Jack the New God, surely helping to fix what Cas broke by restoring Heaven (I’m assuming Heaven will be repopulated or that God’s grace will level it out) and Jack stepping into shoes that Cas once tried to fill and failed to, to the detriment to so many of his kin, is simply stunning.

I cried, properly, at Jack’s speech. It was beautiful.

But for all these good things and wrappings up of stuff, didn’t the ending feel kind of superficial? Like stuff was missing in those final five minutes or so? Like... I don’t know... Sam mentioning Eileen maybe? Because surely she was brought back along with everyone else, and one episode ago he was losing his mind over the loss of her.

And they didn’t even mention Cas. Jack mentioned Castiel as a good influence, but Cas was just bunched in with “everyone we’ve lost along the way”.

Meh.

Hey, it’s fine if all you care about is Dean and Sam and you think that they’re at their happiest when they get to drive along a road in Baby, listening to tunes and play-fighting and reminiscing about all those people that have come and gone, while they know they’ll always remain the same.

I mean, if we hadn’t gotten that montage at the end of this episode (a fucking MONTAGE ppl) I would’ve started thinking that maybe Misha was coming back to shoot flashbacks for 15x20, as we got to see the brothers remembering Cas (like with Mary), taking a walk down memory lane and driving around to well-known locales for a final hurrah.

But we got that fucking montage, ppl.

Leaving me to feel that they probably won’t also spend forty minutes rememberembering those same people. You know?

Also, dull. And Dabb is anything but dull. And Dabb loves pulling on stuff he’s hinted at in the first ep of the season. 

And I remember reacting to Sam being the one to escort the kid and her mother into the, what was it? The high school, right? For safety.

While Dean and Cas had that tense exchange by Baby, where Dean couldn’t not ask if Cas was okay and Cas saying, hopefully, that he was, but Dean remaining stone faced and distant. “Awkward” is what Belphegor called it.

Oh. Please let there be awkwardness in 15x20. I beg on bent knees. Beg, I say!

Anyway.

What is 15x20 going to be about if it isn’t about finally answering the question of what will make the brothers happy?

A balanced universe, of course! But freedom without love... sounds kind of lonely to me. 

So, have they answered the question of What do I want? yet? Is this what they want for themselves? More of the same? This season has hinted that it isn’t. It’s hinted very strongly that it isn’t.

So, I’m holding my breath that Dean’s final confrontation is to do with happiness and daring to want it for himself. Daring to admit to wanting it for himself. Daring to go after it... 

Cas does not belong in the Empty.

And hope that it’s telling how Jack didn’t even think to get Cas out of there and bring him home. God got Lucifer out of the Empty so Jack definitely has the power. 

And Dean didn’t ask him to get Cas out of there, not because he doesn’t still want Cas out, but because it would ruin the first ending for the people who want Cas to stay dead. Yeah? 

It’s kind of beautifully done, to my mind, as a nod and a thank you to the people who have supported one reading of the show. It’ll be difficult for them to go apeshit when Dabb and the writers can simply tell them they don’t have to watch further than 15x19 and be content that they’ve got an ending that lets them cling to the brothers as the begin all, end all.

And yes, I remain believing we will get Dean and Cas together-together before the end of the show. I have no clue how much of a together-together we’ll get, but for the show not to give us a clear understanding of how Dean loves Cas back is unthinkable at this point, and will stay unthinkable until the show tells me otherwise, because nothing but those two together makes even a lick of sense to me.

Dean’s feelings were in the subtext this episode because that’s where they always have been and hopefully fingers crossed because this ending wasn’t for us, it was for other sides of fandom, giving them room for denial, if they simply don’t want to see that what Dean wants is Cas back.

Our ending isn’t happening until next week.

Dean: It’s a helluva time to bail. There’s a lot of people counting on you. People with questions—they’re gonna need answers. Jack: The answers will be in each of them. Maybe not today, but someday.

For me this may be setting up for 15x20.

Dean could be said to be accepting the reality of Cas being gone this episode. He starts off not telling the whole truth about what happened with Cas (of course), he’s drinking himself stupid, he tries to demand of Chuck to bring Cas back, he finds that emotional crutch in the doggo and he moves into acceptance because what else can he do?

Especially if he’s still reeling and is struggling with his fear of happiness, with not feeling deserving, with it being easier to simply let it all go.

But.

Letting go of the need is healthy, allowing it to make way for the real want that is about choosing Cas, not because he feels lost without him, but because Cas completes him...

That would be something. 

(oh shush let’s get with the romance) (Jerry always brings it)

The brothers love each other, but throughout this narrative there’s been hints that they both long for more. So much more. It would be so weird if it didn’t all wrap up with more being wanted and chosen and offered and had.

So if the answers are to be “in each of them -- someday”, then maybe Dean just needs to reach a moment where he’s ready to admit to himself that he can’t stand the fact that Cas died not knowing that Dean loves him back.

I wonder if Sam will push for this admittance... I’d like to witness that conversation, that’s for sure.

And Eileen. I hope she’s back sooner rather than later next episode!!

What’s next episode going to be about if it’s not about the breaking of old patterns to make way for new ones...? Are we going to follow the boys around as they do laundry and cook and make a few tentative plans for their unknown future? They won’t be hunting much in 15x20, at least if Dabb is anything to go by. I guess there might be something brief as a final The Boys With Their Weapons Doing Their Thing, but... it won’t be a case episode. And it would’ve been strange if it was, you know?

So then. Hope. One more week breathing eating sleeping on hopes and wishes and we shall simply have to wait and see what we get.

I have every faith it will blow us away, but I’m also sitting pretty. Reining in those horses lest they run away with me. And whatever comes our way, I’m so grateful for this show!

#spn meta #spn 15x19 #spn speculation #dean #cas #sam #jack #chuck #michael #lucifer #deancas #destiel #hopes and wishes

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺

prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)

let’s start on a happy note! ahahah

so for a while, earth was calm

you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while

wedding planning!

of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts

“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”

“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”

developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)

speechless after the first test

“dad, this is...”

“the coolest thing to ever exist?”

“yes!!”

yall ready for some shit?

the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.

it all started when you got the call from your dad

“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”

“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”

“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”

taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket

knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool

“is this a museum? cool.”

bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys

“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”

charging into him for a long overdue hug

“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”

“i can...i can only imagine”

a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce

“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”

rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens

“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”

bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl

simultaneous nanosuit unveiling

“you ready for this one, pops?”

“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”

montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)

peter showing up

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”

“because i’m good company?”

“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”

pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...

until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high

“call him. now.”

“hey! how’s it going down there?”

“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”

“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”

“i lo—l—ve y—”

“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”

“we lost connection with her, sir”

trying to call peter

“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”

“i’m gonna kill them...”

walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know

taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next

meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager

and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth

“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”

“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”

“oh...”

having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived

having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug

“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”

“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap

“a lot” -nat added

bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness

you, secretly freaking out about your dad

sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long

“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”

laughing through your tears

“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”

he gave you a little hug while you calmed down

getting to business, the ass-kicking kind

as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”

your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go

the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling

“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”

well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?

you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come

“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”

“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey

“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”

covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?

some more blasting

thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it

“hi, thor!”

you landed next to him and your helmet receded

“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”

having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time

and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard

but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark

“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”

watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat

“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”

“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”

he grabbed your hand while you were dusting

“tell my dad i love him, promise?”

fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words

he was mad before anything else

all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back

“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”

the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived

they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news

tony finally making his way back to earth

and stumbling out of that ship

“where’s y/n? where is she?!”

“tony, tony, calm down”

“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”

“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”

tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death

it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him

after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...

tony made sure there was a spare room for you

he put all the things you left behind in it

there were so many photos of you in the house

and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister

“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”

morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you

“when do i get to meet her?”

“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”

after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back

cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back

“get her back, tony”

“you think so?”

“i miss her, too.”

and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back

peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little

tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion

and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much

“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott

and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him

“dad? give us some room, would you?!”

2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was

but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked

push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!

he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought

and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap

just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you

and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound

“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”

“i think you’ll be able to see him”

“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”

“i think you can”

seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms

“miss me, old man?”

and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go

“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”

“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”

getting shot at during your reunion

“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”

yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up

the last one

“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”

“missed you too!”

rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!

“you gave my dad the message, right?”

“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”

“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”

“couldn’t let me forget it”

lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?

plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up

mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!

and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets

you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay

“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”

peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him

pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed

both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before

“so i have a sister?”

morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you

and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony

you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in

morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times

the funeral was one of the worst days of your life

the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day

then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock

“who is it?”

“it’s happy”

“come in”

“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”

she really was a stark

after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life

but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad

it took everything not to explode on camera

you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family

it was all you could get...for now

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #iron man x daughter!reader #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #iron man #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers

[pengychan]

[Coco] Best Man

Title: Best Man Summary: Ernesto couldn't understand what was it about Imelda that his best friend found so amazing. By the time he could, it was too late. [Modern setting, written for @appatary8523​] Characters: Ernesto de la Cruz, Imelda Rivera, Héctor Rivera. Imector, onesided Ernesto/Imelda. Rating: K

A/N: Appa asked for a serving of one-sided pining with some she's-about-to-marry-my-best-friend sprinkled on top, and I complied. Had a lot of fun with it, too. 

***

“Food poisoning.”

“Yes, I heard you the first seven times. I was actually the one who told you--”

“One time you go out of town on your own since last year, one time, and my husband winds up in the hospital with food poisoning!”

“Look, I tried to tell him that chorizo didn’t look all that great, but he was hungry and--”

“And so you just let him eat it while you steered well clear of it!”

“What, since when is it my responsibility to watch what he eats?” Ernesto huffs, throwing up his arms with dramatic flair. A guy sitting on the other end of the waiting room blinks blearily at him, clearly hungover. “Am I my brother's keeper?” 

Imelda rolls her eyes, but her lips curl upwards for the briefest moment, and Ernesto mentally marks it as a victory. “I’m not sure what made you think quoting Cain would come off as perfectly innocent.”

“All right, you got me. I tried to poison him. My plan was to leave him in a ditch and run off with his iPad and all the songs in it. So I could make it big, be a star, never think of him again.”

“Very funny.” A pause. “... Do you have it? The iPad? Because the last thing Héctor is gonna need is getting out of here to find out it’s gone.”

“Yes, yes, I have it. And the guitar. All in the car. Which might have a couple of new bumps...”

“What?”

“He was all green in the face, I panicked that he’d throw up again and hurried to the hospital.”

“Like cleaning our car would have been your problem.”

“No, but if he’d thrown up then I would have thrown up and probably crashed.”

“... Fair,” Imelda condedes with a sigh, and leans back on her seat. Ernesto leans back on his own, reaching up to fix his hair with a hand, turning to glance at the mute TV screen in the corner - anything to avoid looking at her. 

It’s better this way.

***

When he and Imelda met, Ernesto took slightly less than two minutes and a half to decide she was a dumb girl and he didn’t like her. 

To be fair, at age twelve he still found all girls to be dumb girls he didn’t like. That would partly change in the next several years - some girls were dumb, he’d declare then, but not in their face he did like them very much - but right there and then, there was nothing about Imelda he liked. And that was, he’d insist, in no way related to the fact she’d shown up out of nowhere, three years younger, and shattered his record by making a rock skip across the stream sixteen times.

The look of pure wonder Héctor had given her, the one that was usually reserved to him when he pulled out something, had been the last straw. Ernesto had immediately declared her a dumb girl and made sure Héctor promised not to talk to her, ever, lest he wanted to catch dumb girl cooties. His friend, who was eight and not especially bright - Ernesto would deny thinking that later on - had seemed a bit saddened, but he hadn’t argued, because he never argued with him. 

And, at least officially, he’d kept his word for a few years, until they were all older and even Ernesto had to grudgingly concede that it was a stupid promise and dumb girls cooties were not a thing. In truth, he’d actually been talking with her without him knowing, because he found her amazing for some reason Ernesto couldn’t comprehend. 

By the time he could, it was too late.

***

“Ay, Imelda, mi amor, mi vida. Come close to hear my last words--”

“Your next words had better be ‘sorry for being that idiota who gets food poisoning a week before the wedding, I will be back on my feet by then’.”

On the hospital bed, his skin still a rather unhealthy ashen shade, Héctor grins like a boy caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. “I’ll marry on my deathbed if I must.”

A roll of her eyes, a smile she can barely hide. “Ay, you’re so dramatic.”

“Ernesto’s fault,” Héctor’s declares, causing Ernesto, still standing in the doorway - he let Imelda have the chair beside the bed, ever the gentleman - to protest.

“Wait, what?”

“You rubbed off me!” Héctor declares, dramatically.

Ernesto throws up his arms. Dramatically. “Oh, sure. Blame me for everything, why don’t you,” he huffs. “Maybe I’m too dramatic to be your best man, too.”

Héctor laughs. “Ah, never. There is no one else I’d ever pick to be my best man at the wedding.”

Lucky me.

The thought is bitter as bile and maybe something shows on his face; Héctor’s expression doesn’t change, but Imelda’s does. She doesn’t quite scowl, but her gaze is more attentive, and it is enough to make Ernesto feel like he’s under a spotlight… and not the kind he enjoys.

“... I’ll go get a drink,” he mutters, leaving quickly and realizing just a bit too late that a hospital is not the right place to go looking for alcohol. At least, not the kind you’re supposed to drink.

All right then, coffee. Coffee it is.

There is a café at least, and the coffee is halfway decent. He sits, takes out his phone, checks his emails and notifications-- ah, looks like a few people showed interest in his profile across a couple of dating apps. Three women, one man. Not bad at all when what you need is a boost to your ego. Two are nothing to write home about, the other two are… worth considering. Maybe later, after the end of next week once the wedding is done, Héctor and Imelda will be off to their honeymoon in Guatemala, and he will probably need some pleasurable company. And alcohol.

Large amounts of it.

***

“I really don’t get what you see in her.”

Ernesto’s grumble was met with a dreamy smile, a slow strum of a guitar’s strings. “Well, first of all, she-- hey!” he yelped when a tangerine smacked against his forehead and then fell back down on the floor with a sound that was more like a splat then a thud.

“That wasn’t a real question, cabrón,” Ernesto grumbled again. He sat back against an empty crate, watching as the vendors began to dismantle around them, another market day over. Soon enough the plaza would be mostly empty, before it filled again with people after dark. “And anyway, she’s not your type.”

“She is exactly my type!”

“And what is, pray tell, your type?”

The question caused Héctor to turn deep red and stammer, as though entirely out of words despite the fact he could always find all the right ones when sitting alone in a quiet room, a blank piece of paper in front of him. “W-well… she is smart, and… and beautiful…”

“That’s everyone’s type,” Ernesto snorted. “No one likes women dumb and ugly. Just dumb, maybe, but not ugly, unless you’re really that desperate and the lights are out...”

“That’s not-- ugh. If Sofía could hear you, she’d smack you over the head and you’d deserve it.”

“I’m just telling it how it is.”

“She’s… not like other girls!”

Ernesto made a face. “That line, really? Now you’re the one who’d be getting a smacking while being asked what’s wrong with other girls.”

Héctor’s face flushed crimson. “That’s not what I meant! I-- all right, that was-- not what I meant,” he repeated lamely. “She’s not like… anyone else. To me.”

“Oh?”

“She has this thing, like a… a spark, like--”

“Drive,” Ernesto muttered, without thinking. His fingers went to better tune his guitar, while Héctor nodded, brightening up. 

“Yes, exactly! She wants to accomplish something - start her own business someday - and she’s ready to work for it, and--”

And she won’t let anyone tell her she can’t do it.

“-- and I’m sure she can do anything she wants to do, she’s just like that, you know?”

“... Guess I know someone a bit like that,” Ernesto conceded, and tuned out any further gushing from Héctor’s part. All right, so maybe he could sort of see Héctor’s point with Imelda; she had ambition and drive and wouldn’t let anybody dictate what she could or could not do, and he could admire that. Plus she had turned out beautiful, which in his not-so-humble opinion helped.

There was hardly any pretty girl in Santa Cecilia Ernesto hadn’t hit on, often with some success, but not her. He had the uncomfortable feeling it would result in rejection; while he’d been rejected before, it was never a big deal because to each their own and some just have no taste. 

With Imelda, he suspected it might be different. He suspected it might actually hurt, and maybe it would be best to just… not find out whether or not it would be the case. 

It was just stupid. He would make a point to ignore her until it went away, that was all. Not that Héctor behaving like a crushing puppy helped, but that would pass, too; she was not his type. He’d either let go of his crush, or be burned, whine a little, and then move on. Simple as that.

Héctor couldn’t possibly be her type.

***

“What’s eating you?”

“Gah!” 

Ernesto recoils, the phone flying out of his hands. It slides across the table, and Imelda catches it before it falls off. Ernesto has precisely half a second to hope she didn’t get a look at the screen before she hands it back to him, an eyebrow raised. 

“Who’s María del Carmen?”

“A potential date,” Ernesto mutters, snatching the phone from her hand. He hopes Imelda isn’t going to press the matter, but of course she does.

“You can invite her to the wedding. You can still pick a guest to come with you.”

Yes, great first date idea. Sitting there with a stranger to watch you marry my best friend.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but Ernesto manages to fake a laugh convincingly enough. “Hah! Not my idea of a first date,” he says, swiping left as discreetly as possible before he locks the screen. “How’s Héctor?”

“Better, I think. Contrite enough. They’re keeping him under observation for the night.”

“Ugh. Here goes the plan to drive back this evening.” Ernesto makes a face. “How did you get here, anyway? We had the car.”

“I got a taxi.”

“How much did it cost--”

“Don’t ask. I’m doing my best not to think of that,” Imelda says, and they both chuckle. 

“Heh. Fair,” Ernesto concedes. “There is a motel right by. I’ll pay for two rooms. Before we go, can I offer you a--” he pauses, and turns to glance at what the small café has to offer. He makes a face. “... A coke, I guess?”

“I’d like that. With ice and lemon, thanks,” Imelda says, then leans forward. “Are you all right? You looked odd back there. Not food poisoning odd, but--”

“I’m fine,” Ernesto says, waving his hand dismissively. “Worried about the idiota I got myself as my best friend, I guess. I’ll get you that coke, and then we go get some sleep.”

They drink their cokes under the franky depressing neon lights of the hospital’s café, making small talk about the weather and music and whatnot; to Ernesto’s relief, no mention is made of the upcoming wedding. They drive-- well, Imelda drives them to the motel, all without incident.

Then, of course, the universe just has to make a big fat joke at his expense. 

“Only one room left, I’m afraid.”

Ah, for fuck’s sake. 

“I’ll take that for her. I’ll go sleep in the car,” he adds, holding out his hand for the key. She hesitates, glancing at guy behind the desk.

“No other rooms at all?”

“I’m afraid not. But it does have twin beds, if that suits you…?”

“Absolutely not,” Ernesto snaps at him. “The keys. I’ll sleep on the backseat, plenty of space.”

“It’s two separate beds, I think I can put up with it for a few hour--”

Well, I can’t. Not for one minute.

“Share a room with the future bride of my best friend?” Ernesto tries to grin like he finds the thought funny. “No can do, señorita. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Oh, come on,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “You’ve seen too many movies. Héctor wouldn’t think for a second anything unbecoming happened.”

I know. That makes it worse.

“I’d really rather sleep in the car,” Ernesto insists. “Good form, no?”

A sigh, but she eventually relents and hands him the keys. “If you insist. But I won’t sit through endless complaints about your aching back during the drive back to Santa Cecilia, am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Ernesto says; somehow he manages to keep up the smile. He puts his card down to pay for the room and after a quick ‘goodnight’ he heads outside, breathing in the cool night air.

There is a bottle of beer beneath the passenger seat, much too warm to be really enjoyable, but he opens it and gulps it all down anyway, sprawled on the backseat of Héctor’s car. Within a week, the car will take the bride to church - bumps and scrapes and all - and then drive off the newlyweds towards their honeymoon, leaving him behind to watch them go. They will be back, eventually, but they will be man and wife and Ernesto will need to live with that.

They’ve been an item for years. He ought to be used to it. It shouldn’t keep him awake.

We would never work, he thinks, we'd drive each other insane within months.

That's probably true, he knows, and thinking like that usually helps. Not tonight.

He wishes he had another beer or two or twenty at hand.

***

“Are you drunk?”

“Drunk with happiness, yes!”

“A date, you.”

“Yes!”

“With Imelda.”

“Yes!!”

Ignoring the sting of what he refused to identify as jealousy, Ernesto frowned. “You’re joking.”

“I would never!” Héctor laughed and did a half-twirl that almost ended in a tumble. “On Saturday! There is this movie that came out on Día de los Muertos, according to the critics Hollywood didn’t butcher the whole thing too much, and she wants to see it and I want to see it and so--”

“I wanted to see it too! You said we’d--” Ernesto tried to protest, despite the fact no such thing was discussed and he wasn’t very interested in the movie anyway. But this time, maybe for the very first time, Héctor entirely ignored Ernesto’s words. 

In the end, Ernesto just zoned out, telling himself it would be their only date, anyway. It would not last. It couldn’t last, and Ernesto would just let it run his course, only showing up at the end to help Héctor with his heartbreak, as any good amigo would do.

It was not their only date. Many more dates followed, then a relationship that, despite all the ups and downs, never caused the heartbreak Ernesto had expected. When Héctor decided to propose, his advice to wait fell to deaf ears; when he returned with a smile from ear to ear to let him know she had said yes, his words of congratulations and jabs about marriage being the end of carefree life sounded dull to his own ears. 

But he said them anyway and, when Héctor asked him to be his best man, he immediately accepted. He had to.

It was what any good amigo would do.

***

“I think I’ll write a song about the past two days.”

“Oh?”

“El Chorizo Envenenado!”

“It doesn’t sound especially promising.”

Sitting on the couch with a book in his hands while Ernesto stays sprawled on the armchair - his back is killing him and he’s exhausted after barely sleeping, so he’ll take some time to recover at Héctor’s place before he goes home - Héctor pouts.

“And that is why I’m the songwriter,” he mutters, gaining himself a scoff and little else. Ernesto is half-considering a nap when the door opens and Imelda walks in, fresh out of the shower, wet hair covered with a towel and wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe that is too large to belong to anyone but Héctor. It should be the most unflattering attire imaginable, but she looks beautiful in it because of course she does.  

It would be a good time to leave, but Ernesto finds he cannot tear his eyes away as she sits next to his best friend - the love of her life, he can see it so clearly now, in the soft look she gives him and the way she rests her head on his shoulder. 

“What are you reading?”

“Marriage for dummies,” Héctor replies, and she laughs softly, a sound Ernesto cannot quite recall hearing before. Héctor must have heard it many times, will hear it many more times.

This is meant to last, he can tell it now. His best friend, and the woman he finds himself loving against all good judgment. And he’ll keep a smile on, be his best man and toast to their union, because that’s what a good amigo does and the show must go on even if something in his chest hurts so much he fears it might break. But he stays, pretending to be snoozing, watching them through eyelids barely cracked open, an intruder trying to get a glimpse of that beauty, to hear more of that secret laugh.

Maybe he should have tried, Ernesto thinks, seized his moment and asked her out first - but a voice in the back of his mind, much more practical, reminds him it would have made no difference; that even if he’d tried, the almost certain outcome would have been a no. There was never a moment to seize, and he isn’t sure whether that is supposed to make him feel better or hurt worse. 

Somehow, it cuts both ways.

#pixar coco #ernesto de la cruz #imelda rivera #hector rivera #coco

[kenpaisworkshop]

Sinquest: “Midnight Snack”

Characters: Tomis the Warlock, ( @tomis-jb), Ken’pai the Mechanist ( @rumongray) Guest Appearances: Nakhti the Arms-Master, Shir the Brawler Content Warning: NSFW, Explicit sexual content, M/M, M/M/M/M, Tentacle sex, scent play

Written by: @rumongray

A follow up to this comic by @tomis-jb

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

Dextrous fingers worked the small screwdriver as Ken'pai closed a small panel, finally satisfied that he'd cleaned the construct of the sand it had accumulated from a recent trip to Chazin. Back at his workshop, he felt safe, for sure, but there was something about being away from the guild keep that put him at ease in a different way. Maybe it was the fact that when he stayed still, he toiled with the trouble of his life becoming stagnant, and he couldn't see his smaller achievements for what they were. Maybe he had a sense of wanderlust...he often thought that, were he not a lizard-man, he would gladly travel around the world and see new sights, hopefully with a warlock traveling at his side.

No...his mind decided it needed to be honest with itself: he was bored, and he was distracting himself.

He sighed. No sense in stopping now.

Grabbing a small tool, he looked over the construct for points that needed a better seal. He grabbed a small bulb at the end of the tool, used for activating its alchemical reactions. He stopped short, distracted by a strangely pleasant smell that began wafting into his nostrils.

He sniffed the air a bit, trying to determine its source, but the answer came to him all too quickly. Several purple, glowing tentacles wrapped themselves around over his back, entwining and binding his arms. He gasped sharply, his yelp of shock silenced by another tentacle covering his mouth entirely. Heat flashed over his face as his reptilian eyes narrowed in panic.

“Shhh...”

Tomis's voice soothed and dilated the lizard-man's eyes.

“Hello Scales! Working late?” The Warlock queried, a smirk hidden from behind a wooden mask, “Is this another one of your sleepless nights?”

The tentacle at his mouth lifted, gently wrapping around Ken'pai's snout almost as if it were petting him. “Ssssleep?” He jested, “You don't ssseem to be partaking in it either...”

Another tendril grasped the bridge of Ken'pai's goggles, slowly lifting them off his head and placing them gently on the table. The others around his back wormed their way into his shirt, caressing his scales and sending a pulsing wave of shivers with every wriggling movement.

“Yes, well, that's because I'm here to bring you a cure!”

Even more tentacles reached lower on the lizard-man's body, with one caressing his slowly growing bulge, and two others snaked into his trousers, loosening and opening the front.

“Does this 'cure' involve my current restrained position?” His face grew flush from arousal. “...if so, I like it already!”

“Mmmm...” Tomis hummed contentedly, “...this, and much more!”

He slammed a hand down on the worktable next to Ken'pai, leering over his captive. The tentacles responded in kind, pulsing more intensely as the Warlock leaned in close to Ken'pai.

“Also...I don't intend to use my hands tonight!”

With that, he pushed off, away from the table and stood back, spreading his arms. The tentacles writhed with exceptional dexterity, quickly removing the Mechanist's shirt and pants, letting them drop to the floor of the workshop. Soon, they coursed all over Ken's body. They twisted around his arms and legs, pulsing up and down his inner thighs. More slid around his torso, sending a tingle across his chest and up his spine. Another spiraled its way around his tail, stimulating the sensitive scales there that Tomis had a fondness for biting.

Tomis raised a hand, and the tendrils around Ken's extremities lifted the reptile up off of his chair. The human grabbed it, pulling it behind himself to sit down, draping his arm around the back.

“You relaxed almost immediately, Scales! That was quick...what's wrong, lonely?”

Ken'pai moaned, struggling to pull the words from his brain. “W-well...you were gone for awhile...but I didn't expect you back ssso...”

“Soon? Heh, well to be honest things went smoother than expected.”

“I'm...glad...”

“Just got in tonight, actually, so I stopped by the workshop. Y'know...tradition!”

Ken'pai let out a mixture of a chuckle and an ecstatic shudder. “The 'welcome-back fuck'...wouldn't missss it for the world...”

“Well, I hope for both our sakes that you weren't too lonely. You're one of the few who can keep up with me, so you'd better deliver tonight...it was a long ride back.”

“I'll...do my...aaahhhh...”

Every tentacle pulsed at once, before sliding over each and every scale of the lizard-man's body. Tomis had said he wouldn't use his hands, but if he hadn't said that, Ken'pai may have already lost, overtaken by the rapture from his friend's power. Tomis wasn't actually touching him, no, but his magics made it feel like he was. He felt a tongue draping up his neck, rolling up behind his right horn. He smelled a combination of skin and musk from the tentacle that rested on his face, his tongue thirsting for Tomis' member. Tiny sparks emulated the biting of teeth on his scales...

He dared not close his eyes, lest the illusion become too real.

“For someone so cold-blooded, you sure heat up nice, Scales. I haven't really even touched you yet.”

Ken'pai knew he was already being toyed with, and was well accustomed to the human's manipulative charms. He focused on the sound of his voice, the way it hummed into his ears, his brain translating sounds into words, and into meaning. He imagined writing them down, and mused on the idea of doing so later, in reality.

Another tentacle slid to the underside of the base of his tail. He squirmed.

“Hmm...let's have a look,” Tomis suggested, resting his masked chin on one hand.

Ken's living bindings swirled from a focal point on the floor, slowly rotating the lizard-man's nude, suspended body until his underside was facing the Warlock. He leaned forward, elbow resting on his knee as he surveyed the situation.

The tentacle nudged the edges of Ken's hole, teasing it as the human often would.

“Here?”

“T-Tom...issss....”

“Right here, Ken?”

“I...”

Everything came to a sudden stop, the tendrils becoming rigid and almost unfeeling.

“Focus!” The human commanded.

“Yesss! Right there! Right there, Tomisss! Pleasssse!” The reptile whined.

“That's what I thought.”

Like one of Ken's machines, everything slowly started up again, sensitive areas once again exploited for both their sake. Tomis was taking a much more active role now, turning his head to get better angles at one of his favorite performances. The writhing dance of a lizard-man at his mercy.

The tentacle writhed its way inside, forcing Ken'pai to cry out in pleasure. His back arched, thrusting his cock into the air like a towering piston, stabbing the empty air with each and every pulsing, wriggling push into his backside. He didn't know how Tomis did it, but it always felt like the real thing, no matter what his mind told itself. It pumped in and out, and he could almost feel the human's skin slapping against his rear.

Tomis smiled, sending one more tentacle around Ken's waist, coming to a stop just beneath his balls. It gently wound its way around them, twirling around his shaft once, then running along the underside of his dick. Its pulsations matched the rhythm of Ken's accelerating heartbeat as it rubbed up to the tip, curling up and over it. The tendril then rolled from side to side, and then front to back, driving Ken'pai mad as it played with the head. One more sudden flick, and the lizard-man's head snapped back.

His eyes closed. Tomis grunted in response, the sounds dissipating into echoes in Ken'pai's mind.

There you go, Scales...drift off. The Warlock's voice throbbed in Ken's head.

The illusion took hold. The world reconfigured itself like one of his constructs being re-purposed.

When the lizard-man's eyes opened again, the room around him was a dark, brownish, greyish blur. He had vague memories of his workshop, but the only thing he could see in crystal clarity was Tomis.

Naked. Mask-less.

Inside him.

Smiling. Grunting. Sweating. Thrusting. Pushing himself inside of Ken. Pulling Ken back onto him.

“T-Tomissss”

“Yeah, been awhile. Sorry about that. I missed you. I thought about you a lot while I was gone.”

The reptile grinned, the Warlock's promise of going hands-free clearly broken. He gave in to the pleasure, ignoring the haziness that clouded the edges of his vision as his friend pounded into his backside. He felt something push against his lips, and he flicked a forked, wanting tongue to invite it inside. Its taste shifted, forming into something...familiar. As he gazed up, he saw Tomis above him, grinning ear to ear, grinding against the roof of his mouth. He glanced behind the human, only to see that there was another Tomis, still grazing against the lizard-man's prostate.

“Always so...good at that Scales...” The Tomis at his mouth grunted.

Both Warlocks thrust harder and faster, Ken trying his best to keep up. His tongue instinctively lashed around the cock in his mouth, suckling as if he were lost in the desert, desperate for water.

Always the lusty lizard, eh Ken'pai? That's what I'm talking about!

Another nude Tomis coalesced to Ken'pai's right side, pushing his cock into the reptile's scaly hand. Ken stroked it just the way he knew Tomis liked, only slightly distracted by the dick in his mouth, pressing ever further into his throat. A fourth one emerged from the background, stroking his cock rapidly over the reptile's face, just below his eyes.

Then the voices started to overlap. No...not voices. Desires. Wants.

“So good...” “You're one-of-a-kind...” “Fuckin' hot, you're the fuckin' best...” “I need you...” “Take it...” “All I want...” “Getting me close...” “Someday, we'll...” “I'm gonna...” “Yeah, I'll tag along...” “Fuck yeah I'm close, Scales...” “Special...to me...” “Gonna fill you up...” “All over you...” “Drink it all...” “Gonna wash that face...”

In an almost eerie sense of unison, all four Warlocks gave loud, elated grunts. The cock in his mouth throbbed sharply, firing Tomis' seed deep into the back of his throat. As he used his tongue to milk every last drop, another load shot deep inside of his asshole, its warmth dripping out and onto the floor. Tomis pulled out of his mouth as Ken turned his head to face the Warlock masturbating over his face. Two more rounds of cum spilled onto him, one on his chest, and the final one over his snout, rolling down and dripping off of his chin.

The lizard-man broke, surrendering fully to the pleasure, grunted so loudly that Tomis thought he was almost in pain...almost. Ken'pai thrust his own cock into the air, letting loose a concentrated stream of semen that cleared at least a few feet before splattering onto his face, neck and chest, and even after it was all said and done, his member twitched for at least another minute or two.

Tomis looked at his tentacle-bound, vacant-minded friend, covered in sticky fluids, a forked tongue hanging limply out of the side of his mouth as he panted in rapture.

He whistled. “Ken'pai, you sure are full of surprises.”

Ken's mind cleared up a bit, finally leaving the fog behind and remembering the situation. His workshop...Tomis had snuck in and...the tentacles still held him fast. Once he shook the last bit of mist from his head, he started to ask himself why Tomis hadn't released him yet.

The Warlock moved in, his mask keeping the warmth of his breath to himself as he whispered.

“That's one. And no, you're not finished yet. You gotta give me at least a few more.”

“I...” Ken rasped, “I don't...know if I...can...”

“Ohh, of course you can. I know you can take it, I know your limits.”

“I don't...think even...I know my...”

“Ken, tell me...”

The tentacles writhed again, smearing their juices over his scales. His cock remained as rigid as ever, it's heightened, and almost painful, sensitivity driving him mad as the tendril resumed its playful flicking of the head. He gasped, almost choking on saliva and sputtering out a mild cough.

Tomis leaned closer.

“...how was he?”

“How was...who...?”

The smirk was once again obscured by a wooden mask.

“That...that crocodilian lizard-man we ran into. What as his name...?”

His memory was a haze. Ken had a very feint idea of who Tomis was talking about, but his name was just beyond his reach, past the ecstasy and the heat that throbbed in his head and coursed all throughout his body.

“Oh yeah!” The human snapped his fingers, “...I think his name was...”

He turned away from his toy, glancing back with a twinkle in his violet-tinged eyes.

“...Nahkti.”

Ken'pai's eyes widened as the entire world fell away from him.

His mind was in no state to resist the Warlock's power, magical or otherwise. Suggestion sparked off the neurons of his brain. It invaded its way deep within and entrenched itself.

Deep down, it was something Ken'pai really wanted, whether he knew it or not.

But Tomis clearly knew.

The scene's pieces and parts slid into place. Sand beneath his feet, a table in the center. A sturdy chair set against the walls of a tent, lanterns playfully casting shadows for all to see. Thick, scaly hands held Ken's wrists, as his legs rested on powerfully large thighs, a colossal member pushing up into the underside of his tail.

It was the smell that did most of the convincing. His mind didn't even try to tell him otherwise, the scent of the giant scaly body holding him was overwhelming his senses, pushing him to the edge with hardly a word or even a single movement.

“Sient.”

Nakhti was here.

“Nakh...you're...”

“Of course I'm here. I managed to run into you when those bandits attacked, but they weren't exactly what I would call true warriors. I'm glad you weren't hurt.”

“That...yeah...I remember, they...”

The crocodile's head lowered, pressing against Ken'pai's.

“I will always be there to protect you, Sient.”

“I...thank...you...”

“Of course...”

His hands moved to Ken'pai's waist as he slowly lifted the Mechanist, preparing to insert himself.

So how was he, Scales?

That voice again, pulsing through his mind.

“B-big...”

Big...yeah, that's what I figured.

Tomis took a moment to admire his handiwork. The tentacles were doing a fine job of copying the sensations Ken was feeling in his euphoric daydream. A few wrapped around his legs and held him up,  acting like a “chair” for Ken's legs to straddle, as others held his waist, lifting him over a third tentacle. Realizing that one might not be close enough to simulate Nakhti's girth, Tomis summoned a second tentacle and had them tightly twist together, forming into one larger tendril.

“Hmm...you'll need something to do with your hands...”

The warlock removed his hooded cloak, leaving only the mask on his head. He stepped forward, standing directly in front of Ken'pai. The human held his hands behind his back, a way for him to make sure he kept his word.

Ken felt Nakhti's cock slowly press inside him.

“Hold on to me, Sient.”

The Mechanist wrapped his arms around the back of Nakhti's neck, oblivious to the fact that it was actually Tomis he was bracing onto. The Warlock's mask was only inches from his friend's face, a front-row seat to the painfully incredible pleasure that sent tremors through Ken'pai's body. At this close distance, Ken heard distinctions in the voices...they melded together into a strangely fitting aural phenomenon.

You fit me well, Scales. “You fit me well, Sient,” Nakhti comforted, pulling the lizard-man down the entire length.

The twisted tentacles writhed their way deep inside the lizard-man, matching the Warlock's heartbeat. Ken'pai panted for air, his breath huffing against Tomis' neck, bringing a wonderful sense of satisfaction to the human's ego. He smirked. The illusion was clearly so believable that, even this close up, Ken couldn't see his friend just inches from his face.

Ken'pai moaned, dipping his head forward and burying his snout in Nakhti's wide chest. That scent...that marvelously powerful, musky, masculine scent. It smelled like power and pleasure...of old leather, scales, and sex. Of command, control, and climax.

“Smells...so...”

That's it... “That's it...”

Watching the lizard-man freely start to ride the tentacles, Tomis decided to have a bit more fun with his powers. Focusing his magics on the two tendrils inside of Ken'pai, he forced the two to split apart at the end, and start thrusting alternatively, brushing against his prostate over and over and over again.

“Ah...aaahh...! Nakh...it's...ssssso...” Ken groaned loudly.

That's it, Scales, let go! Do it!” “That's it, Sient, let go! Do it!”

“Nahkti...I'm...gaaaahhh!”

Ken'pai shuddered again, firing another thick stream of cum back onto his own chest as the tentacles fired their own load deep inside his cavity. His body, along with everything around him pulsed, the edge of his vision becoming dark before he forced himself to blink, keeping him conscious in his current notion of reality.

“That's two now, Ken. You're doing pretty good. Just a bit more.”

Tomis channeled the tentacles to slowly lower Ken'pai onto his work table and brought them back, away from Ken, giving the reptile a moment to catch his breath. Nakhti's musk eventually drifted away into the desert air, the crocodilian fading from his mind. If he weren't so enraptured, Tomis wondered if Ken would shed a tear at the idea.

“By the way...” Tomis mused, “...I wonder how...Shir is doing?”

“Shir?!” Ken gasped.

In his weary state, Ken lay spread-eagle on the table in an almost pathetically lewd display as his mind brought the previous scene right back to him. He lay on the table in the center of the tent, as its flaps opened. A tan-scaled lizard-man entered, his snout covered by a scarf. He pulled down his trousers and pressed his entire body down against Ken's, hands grasping his wrists and keeping them pinned to the table as he leaned in close.

“Chinir...”

“Shir...I...missed you...”

“I missed you too, but I will always return, you know that.”

“Y-yeah...I...”

Shir pulled down the scarf, lovingly nibbling on Ken'pai's neck.

“I'll always be here...with you.”

“I...”

“Even if the world should fall to nothing but a barren desert, we will walk its sands together, you and I...”

“Yeah...I'll be...with you...”

“Forever?”

“...For...ever...aaahhh...”

Hmm...interesting.

Shir pushed Ken'pai's legs apart, his dick entering him slowly, with gentle care for his lover. Teeth bit down on the Mechanist's neck once it had buried itself fully to the hilt. This time there was no pain to speak of, holding himself deep inside for a moment. He then pushed harder in an attempt to go deeper inside Ken than anybody had ever done before.

Tomis chuckled. “A bit more...loving with Shir, eh? I can do that.”

The tentacles holding Ken's wrists were joined by a larger mass of tentacles that tightly covered his torso, to simulate the weight of another lizard-man's body pressing down against his own. Tomis forced them to move all at once; slow, rolling motions that gave Ken'pai a feeling of closeness, comfort, and safety. Of companionship...and in a strange way...love.

“Shir...” Ken'pai moaned.

“I am with you, chinir.”

Shir pumped into Ken'pai, his speed building as their heartbeats began to match in rhythm with the thrusts. His tongue licked its way to Ken's mouth, the Mechanist reaching out to meet it with his own. They danced together, swapping saliva with each other as that familiar heat started to burn over Ken's scales once again. His cock throbbed, titillated by the feeling of Shir's body pressing it between his and Ken'pai's.

Tomis called back one of the tentacles around Ken's wrist, moving it down to his member instead, gently wrapping around it and stroking it in tandem with the one grinding into his hole.

“Shir...I...”

“Me...too...chinir... I am close.”

“I...”

“Yes...come. Come with me...we come together, chinir!”

“Yeah...yeah...Shir...you're so...aaahhh...!”

Another round of semen pumped from Ken's member, dribbling down onto his stomach. His legs had lost most of their feeling, and he could feel his arms falling just as heavy as the orgasm sapped him of all the strength he had. His chest rose and fell sharply, each breath never seeming like it was giving him enough air to recover his stamina. It was too much too quickly, and he felt his vision slipping into an inky black darkness...

Ken'pai!

That voice again. Piercing though and startling him awake.

Ken'pai...what do you really want?

“I...” he muttered, weakly.

Who do you really want?

“I don't...I can't think...I...”

Focus!

A purple tendril slapped against his face.

“A...tentacle...I was in...my workshop, and then...Tomis...”

Tomis?

Tomis.

Reality finally started to claw its way back into Ken'pai's mind. The smell of machinery and oil flew through his nostrils and into his lungs. The sounds of crickets outside his window chimed in his ears. The feeling of being held aloft by Tomis' magics finally returned, as he found himself in the waking world once again.

Suspended by the tendrils, Ken'pai looked downward, seeing the Warlock seated on the couch that he kept in his workshop. Still wearing his wooden mask, Tomis was now stripped to the waist, his bare chest arousing the lizard-man to become erect one more time. His arms draped over the back, and his pants were unbuttoned, his cock on full display in the dim light of the workshop.

“Say it,” Tomis ordered.

“...What...”

“Say who you really want.”

“Oh...you. Of coursssse. It'sss alwaysss you.”

“Of course,” Tomis said, his grin obscured, “you gave me three already. I think you have one more in you...but now it's your turn to put in some work.”

The tentacles lowered Ken'pai to the cold floor of the workshop, finally releasing him completely. His legs felt like jelly, and visibly shook as he struggled to stand up straight. Despite this, he wasted no time in climbing onto the couch, straddling the Warlock and leering down on him with a toothy smile. This was what he really wanted, in the end. Just the two of them, no magic between them other than the heat of the moment.

“Let'ssss do this,” Ken'pai nodded.

“Get to work then,” Tomis commanded, “no hands, remember?”

“R-right...” Ken stuttered, forgetting about that small detail.

Wanting to match the Warlock's restrictions, Ken rested his hands on his thighs, lowering himself onto Tomis' cock and lining it up with his hole. He wiggled his hips, trying to get the point of entry just right, and also to tease the human a bit.

“Right there,” Tomis chimed in.

The lizard-man nodded. “Yeah.”

Ken sank down, moaning as the human's dick finally entered him. He'd been waiting for this the entire moment, and despite everything, it was still just as good as he expected it to be and more. He did admit, the tentacles were nice, but there was no mistaking the real thing, although Tomis' powers certainly blurred those lines rather well.

“Fuck yeah,” the human sighed.

There was no adjustment period needed now, and Ken'pai set to work, rocking back and forth on top of Tomis. He heaved out shaky breaths of pleasure, a small amount of drool rolling from the corner of his mouth.

Soon, Tomis started to get more into it himself, grasping the back of the couch and using it to brace himself. He thrust upward into the reptile, grunting much like Ken'pai had imagined earlier. He enjoyed watching the show, the Mechanist was certainly finding his own groove as his body bobbed up and down, picking up speed.

“Sssso good...”

Ken'pai leaned down, his snout pressed up against Tomis' mask. Using his teeth, he lifted it up until it was resting on top of the Warlock's head, but he didn't have much of a chance to see his face, as the human immediately leaned in and bit down hard into the lizard-man's neck. It was real. It was real this time. Real teeth biting into real scales as a real cock pressed against his real walls...

“Fuuuck...Tomisss...”

“Keep...going...”

The reptile slammed down onto Tomis over and over again, skin and scales slapping together as the couch pitched and squeaked. Ken forced the Warlock to almost punch his prostate from the force he was exerting.

“Ahh...ahh...Tom...is...”

“Fuck yeah, Scales! Take that shit!”

Ken dug his nails into his thighs to keep his hands in place. After a few more seconds of pounding, Ken pressed down as far as he could, grinding on Tomis and letting his member explore every single area of his insides.

“I'm close...say it,” Tomis demanded.

“Fuck...me...”

“Close! Say it better!”

Another flick of his prostate drove him up to the edge himself.

“Fuck me...daddy! Fuck me!”

Like a piston shifting into a higher gear, Tomis pumped harder and harder into Ken'pai, his fingernails scratching into the back of the couch. His grunts started low, but their volume increased with each and every thrust, until finally he was almost shouting his pleasure into the lizard-man's ear.

“F...fuck!” Tomis shouted.

One final stab into Ken'pai's colon brought forth the culmination of the entire evening. Tomis' cock trembled and shook, it twitched before his seed exploded inside of Ken's hole, the excess drizzling out from the bottom.

The warmth reaching deep within pulled Ken off the edge himself. For a fourth time, Ken loosed his seed, this time onto Tomis' chest instead of his own. After the final throb of his cock, the lizard-man felt a sudden, intense shiver that rolled from the top of his head, down his spine, and all the way to the base of his tail. His tongue drooped out of his mouth, and he had a difficult time pulling himself off of Tomis, but managed somehow, rolling to the side and sitting next to the Warlock with an exhausted--and satisfied--look on his face.

“That...wasss...”

“And that's...four. Damn, Scales...you did it. You broke your record!”

“Well...I had...a good...motivator...”

The Warlock leaned over, lapping up some of the juices from Ken's chest before rolling his tongue over the lizard-man's cock. Slurping what he could, he swallowed and licked his lips, lifting back up to meet his friend's gaze.

“That was good, Ken'pai. Good shit. You'd better get some rest though.”

“Why'sss...that...?”

Tomis gave a smirk. “Because tomorrow, you'd better believe I'm going to use my hands.”

Ken'pai grinned from ear to ear, his head falling back against the couch. Tomis stood up, scooping his shirt off the ground and moving to collect the rest of his belongings.

“That tired even me out, Scales...I'd better head to bed.”

“Y-yeah...”

Tomis heard the reptile's voice trail off and glanced back, and sure enough, Ken'pai's eyes were closed, his breathing deep and natural.

“Ken'pai?”

He waved his hand in front of the Mechanist's face.

“Ken'pai?”

The lizard-man was well and truly out like a light, snoring gently.

Glancing around, Tomis caught sight of a nearby blanket. He seized it with his left hand, pulling it up and draping over Ken'pai's naked body, making sure to cover him as best as he could.

“I guess...one hand is okay,” he nodded, before leaving Ken'pai's workshop for the night.

#writing #Sinquest #Ken'pai the Mechanist #Tomis the Warlock