#imple Pleasures

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝐹𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝒽𝑜𝑜𝒹 ༻

Raphael & Being A Father

Summary: Just a few random Headcanons about Raphael being a father. Some can’t see him being a dad, but I on the other can. More specifically, a girl dad.

Notes: Please enjoy these headcanons xoxo

While he still holds himself in the highest regard, this little girl becomes a living extension of his pride. In the quiet moments when she's curled up on his chest, the Devil experiences a fond fondness he's unaccustomed to, a protective warmth that's both foreign and intoxicating. His narcissism, rather than being diluted, has found a new focus in the form of his child. He sees her not only as his progeny but as an extension of his greatness and power. He also sees her not just as his heir but as his greatest achievement, a testament to his own perceived perfection.

In the quiet moments when the screams of the damned are far below, he sits upon his chair, with his daughter curled atop his chest, and for once, the twisted smile that touches his lips is not borne of malevolence but of a father’s pride. He reads to her from ancient tomes of contracts, grooming her to be as formidable in mind as he is, ensuring his legacy will carry on through her.

As a father, Raphael is surprisingly indulgent. Every whim or desire his daughter expresses, he strives to fulfill, not solely out of love, but because in his eyes, she deserves the world due to her being his creation.

Raphael knew he was protective over you, but the protectiveness he had for his daughter surprised even himself. With the crown of Karsus in his possession and the future ruler of the Nine Hells just within his grasp, he is feared and revered. But with his daughter, a new narrative begins.

He is her guardian, her shield against the political machinations of the infernal court. Any devil, damned soul, or ambitious underling who dares to even glance in her direction with the wrong intention finds themselves facing torments unimaginable. His daughter will grow under his watchful eye, trained to navigate the treacherous politics of Hell, and any who pose a threat to her ascension are removed with ruthless efficiency.

When he can’t keep a close eye on her, Korilla is always there.

He has grand plans for his daughter, envisioning her as a true cambion princess who will help rule the Nine Hells beside him. He invests in her the knowledge of infernal magic and the cunning required to maintain power in a realm where betrayal is as common as brimstone.

The birth of his daughter was not foreseen in his grand scheme, but now that she exists, Raphael cannot imagine his House Of Hope without her. It helped that she was quite the silent baby, never fussing, and when she did you were there to help calm her little nerves.

Haarlep, ends up developing an unexpected fondness for the tiny heiress. Their role becomes that of an uncle almost, indulging her with whatever it is she wants. When Raphael is away, tending to the endless affairs of Hell, Haarlep steps in alongside you. Their mischievous nature can come out to play without any hesitation, the little child loves it. They teach her how to summon implings for her amusement, Haarlep loves when she yanks their tails.

In the absence of Raphael and you, Haarlep becomes the child's protector. They are surprisingly protective of her, a sentiment that has become a source of amusement to the other devils, who never thought they would see the day when an incubus would be so devoted to anyone other than their own pleasure. But Haarlep takes this duty seriously, understanding the importance of the heir he watches over considering this is Mephistopheles blood as well.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #tav #haarlep #raphael the cambion #raphael x tav #raphael

[eluxcastar]

Childe but now he's a little brother

── ୨୧：childe & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: childe was a troublemaker as a child, basically

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: child childe, gn reader, use of childe's real name, mm family fluff and childe embarrassment served hot and fresh, reader is impled to be significantly older than childe

୨୧﹑words :: 724

generally all of my family/platonic works cover the other character being the more mature, role model-ish figure, but then I wondered about the reverse probably because I woke up with the worst stutter possible and here we are. childe isn't my first choice but something about hearing him say he wanted to team up against his siblings in a snowball fight made me think 'man what if he got punted into the sun with a snowball by his older sibling' and now we're here

all little siblingification posts

something about Ajax's tendency to behave stronger than he is is cute, always trying to be the best for his younger siblings like he doesn't have older siblings who do that for him. he is always running off to get into trouble but when he was younger the trouble was at least manageable enough that you could go get him. there are many times that though he does not call on you, he secretly feels safer having an older figure to hide behind when you come to his rescue in the face of whatever trouble he got into.

at his age, he can barely believe it when you somehow find him every time he gets himself in danger and have no problem getting all up in the face of whoever he pissed off enough to put him in danger. yes he gets a stern talking to and a smack on the head for putting himself there in the first place, but the way you would endanger yourself for him... it makes him hug you on the way home every time and often lies as he promises he won't do it again.

he thinks you're just the coolest thing sometimes, but Ajax also likes when you care for him in other ways, like when he comes to you with a book well past his bedtime and begs you to read 'just that one' to him before bed. you grab a blanket for both you and him to hide under and tell him the story he picked, a simple pleasure but he likes how warm it is when he snuggles up to your side and you wrap your arm around him. he likes when he falls asleep there, head resting on your chest where he tries to watch the pictures as the pages turn.

he gets tingles up his spine when you stroke his hair as he listens to your voice speak softly next to his ear, calming yet memorising him. it's easy to fall asleep there, hard to wake up wrapped up snug in a blanket but without you there anymore. he tends to drag himself out of bed with his blanket to see where you went and refrains from whining about it when he finds you tending to one of the younger ones at the request of your Mother. you always make room for him to curl up in your lap anyway and hand the baby off to someone else.

but that's not his favourite thing. his favourite thing and when you and your Father scoop him up and take him out to go ice fishing, carrying him along on your shoulders to the lake your Father must've picked up thick with ice that he tries to help you chisel out though he provides little in the way of help, as you tell him some story you had heard about and even gossip of your own Father's adventures knowing he finds them exciting.

he wants to hear about 'what you do all day anyway' as he waits for his fish, and you usually tell him some story he thinks is boring and asks to hear about something better but with little else to say you have to laugh it off and smother him in your lap in his puffy coat to keep him warm. until something bites and he excitedly hops up to get it like the cold doesn't bother him, like the ice isn't slippery and like he won't slip and fall on his butt like he always does.

something about your little trifles changes as he grows, and something about him becomes less and less like little Ajax, though you coddle him all the same. you always have, he feels so cold in your arms after going missing for three days, hugs you so tightly like you think he'll fall apart even though he says he's fine. he lets you carry him home and scrub him clean in a warm bath, fuss over him like you always do.

and again you will run to him to protect him when he runs off to start fights far worse than before.

but a little Ajax has to grow into a big Tartaglia someday, doesn't he? Tartaglia doesn't need to call for your help, though the moment he does, you will find him—wherever he ventures.

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

#✦ — headcanons. #✦ — fluff. #the words 'child childe' make me STUPID laugh #THEY HAVE NO RIGHT BEING SO FUNNY #or maybe they're not funny #maybe I'm just autistic #childe #tartaglia #ajax #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

[sapphyreopal5]

I've been posting about Gen lately in the context of her being into witchcraft for those of you who follow my page or have seen at least multiple of my posts. I want to share with you more of my observations and why I believe that the effects of her black magic are slowly but surely starting to fade. So in this post here that's an excerpt from her Bathroom Chronicles podcast Episode 11 with Peggy Rometo (self proclaimed Intuitive expert and co-host for the Bathroom Chronicles podcast). Peggy happens to be her mom's friend that was the psychic from Gen's childhood who told her about her future husband being a producer and whatnot in this same podcast. According to her website, "A spiritual teacher and intuitive expert, Peggy Rometo is one of today’s most innovative energy experts bringing forth powerful positive changes to the world. Deepak Chopra, Donna Karan, and Demi Moore are just a few of the notable names that praise her extraordinary intuitive abilities and healing gifts.  She is the spiritual teacher that can help you discover and enhance your intuitive gifts." Hmmmm, interesting friends we have going on here don't we Gen?

In this podcast she talks about how she got breast implants "when she was 40 years old "right around when I hit 40". Given her date of birth is January 8, 1981 and her birthday being so close to the new year, it's pretty safe to say she got her implants in 2021. Based on the timeline she gave for when she got the implants versus she got them out (I would guess around a year if not a little more after she got them despite having issues show up around 6-8 months after getting them from what she described in the podcast) and the posts mentioned below, it seems she was "feeling sexier" during this time period like she said after getting the implants. According to this People Magazine article sourcing the same podcast, it was "quite a while" before she got them out. She spoke to multiple doctors prior to having them removed. This tells me she probably had them in for over a year maybe close to 2 years before she called it quits "feeling really sexy" with the implants and getting them taken out. Don't get me started on her bullshit saying it was for her, my ass Gen it was to make yourself look "sexier" for your husband too.

I mentioned some of the cringeworthy posts that have come from her and Jared's direction, including the kissing her billboard July 2, 2023 (and was reposted on his page as a photo September 18, 2023), the supposedly post sex photo from May 2022 (hit the right arrow for it if the purple dress photo is in view), the cringe TOWWN shower ad Valentine's Day 2022, and of course the noteworthy photo with a bottle of pills and dildo on the bed from July 2021 Jared took down within mere minutes of posting and then reposting cropped. Below are posts straight from the sources for your viewing pleasure (can't you sense the sarcasm here, *cough cough*).

So, where does the black magic stuff I'm talking about kick in here? They also seem to fit in with the time period she likely had the implants. I didn't really analyze the size of her breasts from that time period in her posts versus before she had kids, when she had them in, and then after to determine the exact timeline. If someone else wants to chime in here, I'm all ears ha ha. However from the info that was given in her podcast and in the People Magazine article aforementioned in this post, this fits in with the time period these posts showed up on Jared and Gen's social media profiles versus when she had the implants. I couldn't stop laughing when I heard about her having had implants she ultimately removed not even a couple years after having them. I might sound like a cold-hearted bitch for saying that but coming from the standpoint of her doing black magic, I call this karma that's starting to come her way. I believe that everything happens for a reason and her boobs "deflating" after breastfeeding, getting implants, and then losing the implants not even 2 years later cues me into the fact divine intervention is coming into play and it is not in Gen's favor.

It is becoming more clear to me Jared is a boobs man, particularly how he managed to make his way to a couple "titty bars" or "breastaurants in December 2023 in 2 different cities 2 weekends in a row. Again below for your viewing pleasure. The Tilted Kilt post is dated December 16, 2023 and is located in Las Vegas, Nevada while the Coyote Ugly post is dated December 9, 2023 the weekend he was in Nashville for the Nashcon 2023. And don't tell me it's for the wings or extraordinary drinks, come on now we all know why a lot of guys really frequent these kinds of places...

I also talked about an Anon ask post I came across with the social media behaviors coming from Jared's direction and even that of his family's. It's interesting to me looking at the timeline in which Gen got her implants versus taken out and then taking into consideration when Jared started pulling back on his likes with her content dating back to November or December 2022. Do I think it's because Gen's boobs "shrunk" is why he pulled back? No, I believe that it is because of many factors within their marriage that says things aren't going well and I think she started to feel awful cranky after she got her implants removed. Can we also talk about some of the weird kisses and also misses? Like the Celebrity Feud one from 2023 (around the 4:54 time mark), JIB also from Summer 2023 (around the 11:33 time mark), and oh god the Charleston post too from February 9, 2024. REALLY?! Married for over 14 years and y'all have kisses and misses like this? Wow.....

It seems to me that there's a reason why he has pulled back so much from her social media and it is not because he was busy working. In fact he was NOT busy for a good chunk of time last year due to the strikes so the stans can't blame him working for this. And let's talk about how during one of her AG1 video posts she claimed Jared didn't go to Idaho with her and the kids "because my husband was working" that I shared in the Bathroom Chronicles post I made here. Right, when there's an actors AND writers strike going on simultaneously he is incredibly busy at work. Liar liar, pants on fire! When you lie about things like he's busy with work when he clearly was not at work for why he didn't go on a vacation with you, that screams to me something is amiss. Also, let's not forget that podcast with Dave Hollis she was on that totally confirmed she's just not that into Jared (certainly loves his money however).

On a divine level, all of these things mentioned here, things I discussed on this timeline post, and the passive aggressive behaviors in some of her posts towards him are things proving to me that her black magic is in fact starting to fade. I mentioned before speaking to that other psychic I was instructed to make a tarot reading post (which I never mentioned this to the guy by the way) I made back on July 19, 2023 private a few days before I even saw those comments on Jensen's birthday post, let alone any screenshots of such others showed me. Months ago I was instructed to cross out or "strikethrough" this part in my post that's now private:

I was informed based on the ace and 10 of cups cards in this particular reading along with the devil card, page of wands and the 4 of cups that there will at the very least be a time of separation in their marriage. In the next part below however, I sense something may happen to Gen (or a very close call) that will bring them back together and "start over". You don't know what you got until it's gone they say...

Hmmm, seems to me your time is coming up Gen. Your black magic pleasant events "time is coming up and the unpleasant events "rush" shall start kicking in just like it will soon for another witch you consult with regularly (ahem, Danneel)...

#black magic #anti genevieve #pada marriage is a mess #Instagram #Youtube

[nixie-writes]

Nixie x Striker - Son of a Gun

Another song fic. This is only four pages but I'll put a cut to keep this short. Consider this some of Nixie's backstory.

There was a time she would lie in the grass and imagine the places she’d never go,

And there all alone she would pleasure herself with the thoughts of a man she’d never know. 

Nixie lay in a patch of tumbleweeds, sighing in content. She was finally done helping around the farm for the day and could daydream her heart away. The barn she slept in was cozy and dim, with a slant of moonlight shining through the doors. Surrounding her were bales of hay and bags of feed for the horses. The barn smelled of musty grass but it was home to her. 

Nixie threw her arms over her head and hummed softly. Closing her eye she thought of the rings she’d traveled. Sloth was beautiful but too busy. Greed was a rather criminal ring. Lust was just not up her alley with all the succubi, incubi and imps roaming around. Gluttony was broken, always taking more than it could handle. Envy made her feel insecure about herself and she shied away from that ring. Pride was a wonderful ring full of culture and many types of sinners, but she could never shake the idea of visiting Wrath. 

Ah yes, Wrath ring. Nixie had heard stories of the imps and other demons that inhabited the Wrath ring. So much variety, so many opportunities to make a living. What captured her interest the most, however, was the demons themselves. She could only dream of riding a horse with a cowboy, her arms around his waist for support. Shifting comfortably in her makeshift bed she opened her eye again, staring at the ceiling of the barn. 

Lying there she made a promise that one day she’d run,

And find just the man she was looking for. 

As much as Nixie loved the Pride ring and everything it had to offer, she couldn’t stop the tug towards Wrath. Even with all her shifting she couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep. The night toiled on until morning and Nixie had spent the night awake, thinking of her dream to live in Wrath. While she appreciated the help the imps she lived with gave to her, she felt it was her time to leave. With only the clothes on her back she bid farewell to the elderly imp couple and wished them the best of luck. She was out to reach Wrath. She’d find her cowboy somehow. 

Upon reaching the elevators for different rings she boarded the elevator for Wrath. This was her first adventure on her own. Her mother had sheltered her since she was a baby and now she was on her first solo mission. Excitement bubbled in her stomach. Glancing around the elevator she wasn’t surprised to see some rough looking imps on board with her. Many wore hats, sombreros and ponchos. The culture in the elevator alone was incredible to Nixie. Shuffling around in the elevator she bumped into a figure behind her. Turning to make eye contact and apologize for her rudeness Nixie was met with a tall imp who was definitely born in Wrath, golden tooth and snake eyes. 

“Oh, my apologies!” Nixie squeaked, sounding more like an impling than a fully grown water nymph. The taller imp just chuckled. “You have a mighty fine way of meetin’ demons. What’s your name doll?” He held out a clawed hand and Nixie took it out of politeness. “N-Nixie, sir. And you are…?” She prompted. The imp chuckled. “Oh how rude of me! I forgot to introduce myself. Name’s Striker, I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” Nixie shook her head no. Striker quirked an eyebrow. “No, really? Well ya do now!” 

The elevator to Wrath opened and Striker, still holding Nixie’s hand, guided her out into the desert terrain. Nixie gave a loud gasp of happiness. “I’m finally here!” She squealed loudly. Striker chuckled. “Ya like what ya see? Not much to see really.” The Wrath imp admitted. Nixie was taking in her surroundings. “This place is beautiful. So barren, in need of life! It’s better than I ever dreamed of! Thank you,” Nixie bowed respectfully.

Well, she was in love with that son of a gun but he was not the man that she took him for. 

Striker patted her between her tall ears. “You’ll get to like it here. Let me give you a tour.” Striker offered. Nixie nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, please!”

Striker, with Nixie’s hand in his, guided her through Wrath. From the boring heat of the fiery sun to the baked sand underfoot to the scattered farms. “Why don’t I take you to the farm I help out at? They could surely use a pretty young lady to help with the cattle.” Nixie smiled, her magenta eye shining brightly. “That sounds wonderful!” Striker smiled, his gold tooth glinting in the light, and dragged her along to Joe’s farm. Nixie felt butterflies in her stomach walking beside Striker. He was everything she’d dreamed of: tall cowboy with a Wrath drawl. Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach twisted into knots. 

Oh it wasn’t long before he pulled her in and he asked her to come run away with him. 

He saw a pretty young girl who was ready to run, 

And he saw just the chance he’d been looking for. 

Well, she fell in love with that son of a gun but he was not the man that she took him for. 

It was a week after meeting Striker and agreeing to work at Joe’s farm. Nixie had a fun time supplying food to the cattle and riding the horses. She was in a dream state. Everything seemed perfect. In fact, Joe’s daughter and the rest of her work crew were going to be visiting the farm for the Harvest Moon Festival. Nixie was excited to meet the famous Mildred. 

But when they arrived Striker was quick to compliment Mildred - no, Millie - and Nixie felt something she’d never felt before. She had an instant sense of tensity between herself and Millie, as though they were about to fight over a piece of meat. “Oh yeah, you remember my husband Moxxie,” Millie sang, shoving her husband to Joe and his wife. Nixie released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. What if Striker liked her? It didn’t matter, did it? They weren’t together. Yet still, that nagging feeling. She only felt it when she was in Envy. Was she…Jealous? Of course not. They were just friends, right?

After Striker was done introducing himself to Millie’s co-workers Nixie pulled him to the side. “Striker, what was that?!” Nixie demanded in a hushed voice. “It’s like you like her!” She hissed with venom in her words. Striker only chuckled. “Darlin’, the only woman I’d run away from this dump with is you,” he assured her. Nixie felt her face flush a dark blue. Striker patted her shoulder and left their hiding spot to wrastle a beast for dinner. Nixie could only watch in awe as Striker knocked Moxxie off the beast and took its life with precision and ease. He said something inaudible to her and carried the beast inside. Ditching her hiding spot she followed the Hellhound and imp inside, leaving Millie to tend with her husband. 

After carving the beast for dinner it was brought to Nixie’s attention that Stolas of the Ars Goetia was visiting to reveal the true harvest moon. While she was interested in seeing this feat, she was more interested in what Striker was doing. Slithering up the stairs of the house she came in front of a door closed ajar. Peering inside she saw Striker brandishing a gun with holy trails on it. Did it have holy bullets? What did he intend to use that for? It wasn’t her business so she slid back down the stairs to the festival. 

While gazing in awe at the true harvest moon Stolas summoned, Nixie felt a hand grab hers. “We’ve gotta get the fuck outta Dodge,” Striker informed her and  pulled her with him out of the crowd, running to a horse on standby. He heeled Nixie up first then took his seat in front of her and took off, bullets flying past them as they fled. 

They headed out west riding into the sun and he promised her she was the only one, 

Well he was a thief and he’d steal just for fun, 

He’d go cruising around with his little gun. 

Nixie took tight hold of Striker’s waist and buried her face in his shoulder as he rode out of the festival. She had no words. She knew he was in deep shit. Was she somehow involved in this? She wished no ill will on the Goetia family. In fact Stolas had a daughter who hadn’t reached maturity yet. She had so many questions but none of them came out of her mouth. 

The two rode on until they came upon a dingy motel. Using what money he had Striker booked a room for the night that he and Nixie shared. Immediately upon entering the room Striker laid himself out on the bed and grabbed the phone, dialing a number. Nixie was too numb from all the turmoil to hear everything, but she picked up that Striker was set to assassinate Stolas and he failed and dragged Nixie with him to run away. She shrank away from the imp, sliding down on the door with her ears in her hands. After the phone call Striker moved to sit beside her. “Now, don’t let that upset you. This is the life we picked, remember?” Nixie could only nod her head in fear. 

“Don’t worry doll, I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re my one and only,” he coaxed. Nixie took a deep breath and let it out. “Yes, I chose this,” she decided. She loved him too much to turn her back on him now. Striker gently pulled her off the floor and let her to the bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor, you take the bunk,” he instructed and took a blanket for himself. Nixie crawled into the bed, suddenly so exhausted, and fell asleep to the sound of Striker’s breathing. 

***

Two weeks passed since the festival. Striker never stayed in one place for long. He slung his gun at anyone he deemed worthy and used said gun to steal food, water and other necessities. At first Nixie could understand the theft but it progressed from necessities to useless things. He stole a gas station of all its oil to resell, brandishing his gun at anyone who dared interfere. Nixie knew it was only a matter of time before someone stopped him. 

He ran afoul of the law and decided to run and he left her alone. 

Well, she was in love with that son of a gun but the story between them, it wasn’t done. 

One morning Nixie woke up alone. Striker was nowhere in the barn they’d taken shelter in the night before. All she found was a sheet of paper. “Thanks for the fun times,” was all it said. Peering through the door of the barn she saw Striker, bound by holy rope surrounded by constables. THey crowded her vision and she couldn’t see what they were doing to him. Her first instinct was to run to him and protect him, but before she made it far she was grasped by a constable. 

“We found the hostage!” The imp called out to his associates. Hostage? Didn’t she agree to this life? Was she just a hostage to Striker? Her knees went weak with terror and she sank to the sandy ground. Looking up at the imp who held her arm she whispered, “was I really just a hostage?” He nodded solemnly. “You’re lucky to be alive,” he informed her. Lucky to be alive. Did he have plans to kill her off when the searches stopped? Nixie watched halfidded as Striker was dragged into a van and shoved inside. Was that the end of their story? She gave up everything…For this? She allowed the constable to guide her to another van to be questioned. 

When she finds him, 

She will make him regret he was ever born. 

Many years passed. Nixie found herself back in Pride, living on her own among the sinners. She’d since climbed the social ladder to Overlord, looking over her territory and defending the Hellborns of Pride. Their culture had to be preserved and sinners were clogging up the ring. She had no issue with the yearly extermination, the exorcists weren’t after Hellborns. 

Despite her success she never forgot her roots, the Stockholme syndrome she felt with that Wrath imp who carried her along as an unknowing hostage through the ring after a failed assassination attempt. She could never forget those eyes or golden tooth. The same gold tooth that Valentino sported. She could never forget those snake eyes or the rattle of his tail, or his smooth Wrath drawl. She couldn’t find out what she saw in him. An escape from her sheltered life? Maybe. 

All Nixie knew for sure was that she craved revenge for being taken advantage of for her childish feelings for Striker. She knew they would cross paths again and when they did, she’d give him back exactly what he gave her. 

#helluva boss x reader #striker x reader #helluva boss striker

[sulky-valkyrie]

“ go, go! save yourself! i’ll buy you some time! “ for anders and whoever you'd like?

there's an unofficial optional "100 word" challenge happening today, so this was attempt number one at that, which CLEARLY DID NOT MEET THE REQUIREMENTS as it's three times too long.

As usual, a thousand apologies for not using the complete dialogue prompt verbatim.

for @dadrunkwriting

~~~

Anders ignored the crash downstairs.  Things were always breaking in the Pearl.  Either due to drunk patrons just falling over or people who didn’t have the Maker-given sense to check stability before rutting like wild animals on tables or chairs or banisters or that one time in the chandelier.  But that’s why they kept a very pretty young man who just happened to be very good at ….. massage on the payroll.  

“Oh, right there, puppy, you really are worth every penny.”  The gorgeous woman below him hummed with pleasure as he continued to rub her back.  No really.  He wasn’t paid to sleep with anyone here.  Sure, he still did sometimes, but just for fun.  And only with clients that had already bought something else.  Sanga had been very clear that he was not to take business away from the rest of the girls.  Or the nugs.  

“Puppy?  Really?”  He laughed.   

“What would you prefer I call you then, hm?”  She rolled over underneath him, making several delightful things jiggle.  “Are you my fierce tiger?”

He kissed her forehead.  “Alas, I’m just a humble working girl, so ‘kitten’ is probably the best I can manage.”  The sound of cracking wood happened again, this time closer.  Probably nothing, right?

“No kitten I know can do that electricity trick.”  She pressed herself against him with an inviting grin.

Was that Templar armor polish he smelled?  Shit.  He gave the pirate a smile he didn’t feel as he climbed off of her and started to pull on his robes.  “So can a mabari?  Because if I’m a puppy, that would impl-”

“Open up!”

He flinched at the sound of a gauntleted fist pounding on a nearby door.  Warm arms wrapped around him from behind.  “Are they here for you?” She asked.

“Can’t very well go ask them, can I?”

She kissed the back of his neck.  “Go out the window and save yourself, I’ll buy you some time.”

#da drunk writing circle #dragon age #fanfic writing #anders #isabela #barely spicy #the pearl #background sex work #prompt fills

[burning-fcols]

"It's a pleasure to meet you!" The young owl excitedly exclaims before offering fizzarolli his hand to shake. "My name's stolas. Blitzo has told me a lot about you. I hope we can be great friends!"

-  ✩   「 @helluvaxhazbin 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Fizzarolli doesn’t trust this guy as far as he can throw him. Which frankly, would be pretty far considering how strong the performer has to be and how shrimpy the Goetian Prince is. So, he supposes that saying doesn’t work very well in this case... In fact, it’s almost as poorly thought out as a friendship between an Imp and a Royal. Not that Fizz blames his best friend for what’s happening. This lapse of judgement lies solely on Cash’s shoulders.

Infuriating as that may be, since Fizz is powerless when it comes to the Ringleader.

Warily glancing at the offered hand through narrowed eyes, they literally glow with distrust. Tail lashing irritably behind him, a small growl attempts to from, barely-contained in the back of Fizz’s throat as he focuses his attention on the owl’s naive features. Unsure whether the others ignorance is genuine or merely a calculated act, Fizz figures it doesn’t matter either way. No matter what occurs, the Prince isn’t the one at risk or who would feel the hardest sting of consequences. He can giddily go into this, playing make-believe and acting as if he has a friend rather than a plaything paid for by his father. 

Well, Stolas’s father only paid for ONE friend... and that’s all he’s getting. 

❝  You can put that away.  ❞  Fizz tersely replies about the offered handshake, tail-tip twitching and body tensed, as if expecting to need to spring away at any moment. Demeanor nowhere near as adorably friendly as the crowds witness when he’s performing, Fizz’s entire aura radiates a wariness learned from a life of hardship. Something he’s sure Stolas is unfamiliar with.   ❝  And I wouldn’t count on it... I’m not looking for any new friends. I have Blitzo and that’s enough.  ❞  

There’s a thinly-veiled statement in there. A CLAIM to the other Imp... and a warning that Stolas better not jeopardize that, evident in the gruffness that hinted the Impling’s normally smooth voice.   「 ☆ 」 

#burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴀʀꜱ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴᴇ ᴍᴇ; ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅɢᴇꜱ ɪ ᴀᴅᴏʀɴ ❞ ¦ 「 Fizzarolli IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ; ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜꜱᴇᴅ ❞ ◌ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ¦ 「 Fizzarolli 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʟʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ɢᴏɴᴇ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ❞ ¦ 「 Stolas 」 #helluvaxhazbin #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[diamond-coral]

Bargaining Chip

Hello! This is my first time posting on Tumblr ever:) I pulled this one-shot from a fic I posted on AO3 a few months ago but the plot is irrelavent and I changed it from first person to second as well as some details so it can be read as a stand alone. There’s some plot from the actual story but you really don’t need to know it at all.

There might be a few errors, especially because I changed the entire point of view and converted it to present tense from past tense so sorry:) 

Loki manages to get his hands on you and exchanges you and your body for his ticket to independence from the Avengers. Bucky gets to go first.

Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters included: Loki, and a little bit of Tony, Steve, and Thor

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY!!! SMUT (NON-CON TOUCHING, FORCED ORAL SEX (m receiving), KNIFE THREATS, DARK! AVENGERS, BUCKY’S AN ASSHOLE IN THIS, DEGRADATION, BASICALLY FORCED PROSTITUTION) READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

You awake in the passenger seat of your own car with only foggy memories of you and your partner before everything had gone dark. Your mission from the CIA...breaking and entering the motherfucking Avenger’s facility and managing to escape...you were so close. If it weren’t for him. In your haze, you look to see who could possibly have the audacity to be driving your car, and there sits Loki, the God of Mischief, who you had only scene on the news, driving one hand and inspecting something in his other.

“Good evening my lady. Sleep well?” he mocks without taking his eyes off the item in his hand which upon further inspection from you looks to be... a red leash?

What the hell?

“I do hope you like your outfit,” he continues. “I think I assembled quite the get up for you.”

Looking down, you let out a muffled scream that was cut off by a strip of duct tape. Your hands are bound in your lap, but that isn’t what horrifies you. It’s what’s underneath them. You take into account your bare legs, fully on display, with a black dress leaving little to the imagination. The top half is just as horrifying with it’s plunging neckline. Your legs end with a pair of strappy gold heels that ensures any chances of running away to be futile while your upper arms are adorned in golden bracelets accented with emeralds. Whether the emeralds were real or fake, you could care less. You have bigger problems to worry about.

“What the fuck?!”

Is what you try to say, but the gag only makes it come out as a mangled ball of muffled murmurs. Though the chuckle Loki lets out implies he understands your enraged speaking attempt.

“You, my dear, are going to be a bargaining chip. I heard about your little escapade at the Avenger’s facility last night. Impressive, I must say, but my brother and his little hero posse had been looking for you relentlessly after that. They are practically obsessed with catching the women that managed to break into their high security building.”

Loki takes a sharp turn into a parking garage, narrowly missing the wall. You squeal as your precious car runs over the curb.

“I forgot how much I hate mortal transportation devices. But Stark had to build this tower in the middle of New York to feed his ever-growing ego and now I’m the one that has to rely on a car to get me there,” he grumbles while pulling into a parking space. He takes a deep breath once the car is parked. “Now, I’m going to remove that gag out of your mouth, and if you scream, I will peel your skin off of your body in the slowest, most painful way imaginable. Understood?”

You nod frantically and he rips the tape off, extracting a whimper from your now stinging mouth. You open your mouth for him to take the wad of cloth out that was under the duct tape. As he extracts it, you snap your mouth shut in an attempt to bite him, but he’s quick to evade and grabs your jaw harshly.

“What did I say before?” he seethes. 

“You said not to scream. I didn’t scream. Now let go of my face.”

Loki roughly throughs your face to the side, letting go, and looks around the surroundings of the car, probably checking for any unwanted onlookers.

“Out of the car. Now,” he orders and you hastily oblige using your bound hands to open the door.

As you shut the door, you catch a glimpse of your own reflection and grimace. You look like a hooker. Aside from the skimpy outfit, your hair was pinned up and intertwined with gold strands. Your makeup is done as well. Sultry eye shadow and dark red lipstick.

“I didn’t know the God of Mischief was a makeup guru,” you jab.

He ignores you and harshly pushes you forward. “Walk.”

“Where’s my partner?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Loki replies. “She has other uses than the one I currently need you for.”

“And what use am I needed for?”

“I already told you. By the gods, you mortals are stupid. You are to be a bargaining chip, (Y/N).”

Your blood runs cold. “How do you know my name?” you ask.

“I know everything about you. Including your peculiar abilities.”

You stop dead in your tracks.

“Now, don’t worry,” he adds. “As amusing to me as it would be, I have no interest in enlightening the Avengers to your secret identity. As far as they will know, I am simply giving them the criminal that broke into their compound.”

“And what’s in it for you?” you ask as he guidesyou into an elevator.

After pushing a button, he goes to fix his dark green tie. “Clever girl now aren’t you?”

“Answer the question.”

“How about-no?” he muses and a soft ding resonates through the elevator.

The doors opened and, for a moment, you forget the predicament your in. Inside was the most beautiful penthouse you had ever seen. The opposite wall was made entirely out of glass allowing a view of the New York City night skyline. Everything little piece of furniture each looks as expensive as your car, but your focus becomes drawn to the minibar. The Avengers were all sitting there, laughing, and most were obviously drunk.

“Here James, try some of this,” Thor booms.

Bucky makes a face. “Why would I drink something from another planet meant for Gods?”

“Jeez Buck it’s the only thing that can get you and I drunk,” Steve slurs and claps Bucky on the shoulder. “It’s your birthday. Live it up a little.”

Bucky hesitates before grabbing the flask Thor offers him and throwing his head back, downing the flask in one go.

Loki seems to have enough of the party scene as he clears his throat to interrupt them.

“Gentlemen-”

Before Loki uttered another word all the Avengers clambered from their seats to grab their weapons, but their intoxicated state just makes it a comical sight. Captain America falls over in an attempt to reach for his shield below the table. Tony Stark’s iron man mask smacks him over the head as he fails to turn in time to catch it on his face. Sam Wilson chokes on his drink and falls backwards off his barstool in shock.

“I come bearing no ill tidings.” Loki spread his arms.

“Then why bother coming at all?” Thor growls, shifting his hammer to his right hand.

“I’ve come to make an offer.”

With that, Loki snatches your wrist and throws you towards him and the other men. You stumbled in you stilettos and let out a yelp as you land on the floor looking up at the 5 present Avengers: Thor, the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Iron Man, and the Falcon. They all look down on you with perplexed looks etched onto their faces.

“You guys have been so caught up and stressed about finding your security breaches that I was generous enough to do some finding myself,” Loki explains.

“And how do we know you didn’t just pluck some prostitute off the street?” Caps eyes rake up and down your body.

Loki scoffs. “Always the skeptic captain. Does this answer your question?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flash-drive.

Tony snatches it from his hands. “Jarvis, what’s on this drive?” he asks, holding the drive up to a scanner in the glasses he’s wearing.

“It appears to be the files you have been collecting the 2 vigilantes you have been tracking and-.”

“Okay thanks J!” Tony interrupts quickly before Jarvis could spill any more information. He proceeds to storm up to your cowering and kneeling form that hadn’t dared move and harshly grabs your jaw.

Jesus, what was with these men and your poor, bruised jaw?

“Why would you possibly need this information?” he asks calmly, but his eyes are feral. He studies you and his brows furrow. Did he manage to piece it all together that you were the alleged vigilante they had been hunting? He lets go of your jaw and throws you back on the floor. “What business do you have looking for them?”

Looking for them? You let out a sigh of relief.

“None of your business,” you spit.

“Anyways,” Loki continues, and the drive suddenly disintegrated in Tony’s hand while reappearing in Loki’s. “I will happily hand over this seemingly important information along with the girl for you to do with her as you please, but…” He pauses. “Only if you stop tracking my current whereabouts.”

“And why would we do that, Loki? You’re dangerous,” Steve notes.

“I was dangerous,” Loki interjects. “I have been a good boy haven’t I? I would like to lead a normal life without you imbeciles tailing my every move. If I slip, Thor here will know within the second if I’m involved with anyone wrong doings, won’t you brother dear?”

Thor grunts at that statement.

“Besides, Stark’s satellite can track any magical energy if I use it. Which I won’t.”

“Fine. Now hand over the drive,” Tony snaps and holds his hand out.

After Loki drops the small gadget into Tony’s hand, he hauls you up and spins you around to face him.

His voice is quiet and low. “Be glad I didn’t tell them about my plans for you friend. It would be a shame if they found out about her abilities...and yours.”

He spins you back around to face the 5 men whose eyes were now raking up and down your body. “Easy on the eyes isn’t she?” Loki mentions, hands falling on your waist making you squirm. “You know, I almost considered keeping her for myself. Her exotic beauty is that of a pleasure maiden on Asgard.” Your struggles are invigorated at his implications. “Enjoy your whore.” And with that, he gives you one final shove before vanishing.

It’s silent for half a minute before one of the men speak up.

“Alright who wants to take her for a spin?” Tony asks, clapping his hands together. “I vote the birthday boy gets first dibs. Huh, Buckaroo?”

You blanch at the idea. Were they really going to go through with what Loki wanted? What happened to the valiant heroes you saw on your screen?

“Wait Tony, you can’t be seriously considering Loki’s suggestion?” Sam Wilson sounds surprised.

Tony shrugs. “Why not, Birdie? It’s either this or high security prison and I don’t think she wants to rot in a cell.”

“She is standing right here and would rather rot in hell than do what Loki had in mind,” you hiss.

“Well it’s a good thing we weren’t asking for her opinion,” Tony says.

“Tony’s right, Sam,” Steve adds slowly. “We bust our asses out there. We deserve something nice.”

“Day after day we save this pathetic world, and no thanks are given. Just everyone saying what we did wrong. We should’ve left the world to fend for itself after they tried shoving those ridiculous accords down our throats,” Thor murmurs

Sam raises both of his hands up in defense. “Fine. Do what you want with her. I’m gonna head out.” And with that he leaves. Your heart sinks, watching the only glimmer of hope, your knight in shining armor, walk out the door. Your self-pity party is cut short by an arm snaking around your waist.

Bucky Barnes, trained assassin, mass murderer, and now current Avenger, puts his face in the crook of your neck and inhales deeply, sending shivers down your spine while you stand frozen like a deer in headlights. “What do you say, doll? Wanna finish what we started the other night?” His hand on your waist slowly drifts down to your ass.

You stomp your heel down on his foot eliciting a groan of pain. “Last time I checked, you were in the dirt, and I was driving away that night after a successful robbery. There’s nothing to finish.”

He moves quickly as he rips your hair out of what’s securing it up, using the opportunity to tangle his hand into the roots and drag you away to a separate room. He wrenches open and throws you in, leaving you to stumble and trip. A searing pain on your forehead signaled that you hit your head.

“How about we use that snarky mouth of yours for something better hmm?” His voice is ice cold with malice as he grips your hair and yanks you up.

You cry out in pain, tears pooling in your eyes.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he sneers down at you. Hearing the sound of a belt unbuckling and pants unzipping, you shut your eyes.

A tear escapes, cascading down your face, but his thumb gently wipes it away.

“Open your eyes, doll,” he coos.

You shake your head and screw them shut even tighter.

“I said...OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!” he roars and your eyes fly open only to see his member sticking out of his slacks right in front of your face. He’s almost fully hard as precum dribbles out of the tip. “Good girl,” he praises. “Now, since you can’t seem to keep your snarky mouth shut, let’s put it to better use. How bout that?”

You don’t move, and he sighed as you look down to the floor. You hear some shuffling, a small click, and suddenly something cold and sharp is pressing under your chin, tilting your gaze to his steel blue eyes.

“Let’s try this again.” He pushes the knife harder, digging it a little deeper, but not enough to draw blood. A knife. This dirty bastard has a knife. “Suck. My. Cock.”

Pushing all your pride aside, you direct your gaze to the task in front of you. Bucky lets out an approving hum and the knife is removed from your throat. You swallow before opening your mouth and dragging your tongue from his base to the tip before wrapping your lips around him and sucking lightly.

Bucky was no slacker down there, you had to give him that. You ease your mouth down his shaft and his head tilts back.

“Oh fuck that’s it,” he moans. “Take my dick down your throat.” He grunts. His metal hand fists your hair to push your head down, sliding a few more inches into your throat. “Oh-that’s a good whore,” he breathes.

A gag is torn from you and you slap your hands against his thighs to imply you couldn’t take much more. Bucky’s only response is another grunt as he jams the rest of his length down your throat leaving your only intake of oxygen to come from your nose which was now mashed right above the base of his thick cock. As quickly as he pushed you down before, he pulls you back off by your hair, letting you go to wretch, gasping for air and freedom. A strand of saliva still connects from his tip to my lips.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He snags your hair again. “Open wide, slut.”

You do just that and he begins to fuck your throat at his own pace, sliding his entire length down every time. Tears brim at your eyes, not just from the lack of oxygen, but the humiliation of the moment as well. The time passes much too slowly for your liking, minutes dragging on for eternity, before he begins to reach his climax.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” His cock twitches in your mouth.He holds your head with both hands as he releases straight into your mouth, warm thick strands of his release coating the back of your throat. He pulls out  with a pop and smirks down at you. “Good little sluts swallow” he orders.

You glare up at him, making a show of not doing anything.

“Well?” he demands and raises a dark brow.

You spit his own climax onto his expensive shoes.

“Why you-!” He raises his hand, getting ready to send a smack to your face.

“Barnes!” A female voice comes from the doorway as the door flies open. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

There stood none other than the Black Widow.

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #non-con #bucky x female reader #dark!fic #loki x reader #avengers #idk how to tag this #fanfic #am i doing this tag thing right? #no i'm not #smut #dark!mcu #marvel #dark bucky x reader #dark!marvel

[salparadiselost]

2 with ”Demon in the Details”?

I woke up and said Tim angst apparently.

Baby impling Timmy. I'm surprised haven't done much of this.

Tim stared at the suitcases by the door.

Bruce was… Jason was… Dick was… they were… they were all leaving.

-----

Tim standing on the staircase, a blanket clutched in his palms.

His parents were putting suitcases by the door and his mother was tapping something into her phone.

“Mama?” he asked, feeling his chest burn and the dark hole inside him digging teeth into his organs. He hadn’t realised it at the time, but it was starvation.

“Yes?” she asked, not looking up from her phone.

“You’re leaving?”

She hummed and nodded. Tim watched as his father placed another bag in front of the door.

“That’s the last one,” he said, pulling out his phone too. “The car service should be here in three minutes.”

“You’re leaving?” Tim repeated, his voice hollow. “You were supposed to be home for another week.”

“Plans change,” his mother said dismissively. “We are needed in Lima immediately.”

“But…”

But… what about me?”

“What?” his father said, looking up to Tim. “Spit it out, Timothy, you know I have when you mumble.”

Tim’s mouth snapped shut and he tried to ignore the burn of tears from behind his eyes. The dark inside him grew and it drove dull agony between his ribs.

He couldn’t cry, though.

His parents hated how needy he was already. They told him it was babyish to still cry when they left. That it was pathetic for him to be afraid of the months of loneliness that drew every bit of his strength and made him want to collapse. It was weak of him.

But he didn’t know how to deal with the pain that constantly felt like it was ripping him apart.

“The driver should be pulling up now,” Jack Drake said as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

They were leaving… right now.

Tim dropped his blanket and rushed forward.

“Wait, Mama.”

He slammed into his mother’s legs, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

Suddenly, the pain dulled, like he was finally being allowed to take a breath after hours of drowning. He was desperate for it, anything to keep them here and close to him.

“Please, Mama, please…”

“Timothy!” she barked and Tim instinctively flinched, but did not dare let go of her. It was greedy of him, but the hole inside him was closing.

“Mama, it hurts,” he cried, begging her. Tears were slicking down his face and a sob was trying to crawl up out of his throat. “When you leave, it hurts more. Please, let me come. I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet.”

His mother scoffed, trying to push him off with a single hand. “Now, Timothy, you know we’ve talked about this.”

Yes they had.

They had talked about why it was not a child’s place to travel. They had talked about all the trouble he would inevitably cause, what a distraction he would be. They had talked about how this was an opportunity for him, a way to develop his independence and grow as his own individual.

But it didn’t feel like he was growing at all when he paced the Manor’s halls for hours, desperately trying to find people he knew weren’t there.

“Please,” Tim begged again. “I’ll be good.”

His mother looked down and a strange feeling that wasn’t his own filled his head. She pet him, running her hand through his hair.

A cool bliss filled him instantly at the tiny bit of affection and he practically shoved his face into her hand. It was so good. It felt so nice. The dark part in his chest was going away and pain was beginning to filter out.

He wanted to stay in this feeling forever.

He didn’t know why, but he chirped, a strange sound caught between a noise a bird would make and a cat would make.

Mother drew her hand back like she had been burned.

Tim whined in the back of his throat as the pleasure was taken away and the pain immediately began to set in again.

“Mama?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her face flashing with sadness before it was driven away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to turn out like this.”

Like what?”

“Janet?”

His mother turned to his father and Tim knew he was being left behind again.

“Mama! Papa!”

“Quiet, boy,” his father hissed. “Stay in the house. Don’t cause trouble.”

He…

His parents were going through the door and their bags were going with them.

Bag after bag. All things that they thought more fitting to take on a trip than him.

It only took a few minutes before the door clicked shut and Tim found himself locked in his home all over again.

The hole in his heart hungered.

-----

“Hey Tim,” Jason said, adding a bag to the pile that was rapidly forming in front of their door. “You finished already?”

Watching him put that bag down was a dull knife to the heart.

But Tim could handle it. He knew he was a demon, an Incubus, and he knew why it hurt him to be alone. He could manage it better now, plus he was better fed than he had ever been as a child.

This would be easier.

Then why did it hurt more that his pack was leaving him?

“Finished what?” Tim asked but his voice was distant as his gaze locked on the bags.

“Packing?” Jason asked, his head tilting. The older Incubus paused, sniffing the air before his nose scrunched.

“You smell like sadness,” he said bluntly. His eyes narrowed, flickered between Tim and his fixed gaze. “You smell like…”

Tim could see him putting the pieces together and then suddenly a fierce protectiveness filled the room as his Heart growled.

“We’re not leaving you, Tim. We’re not your old pack."

“But… but you’re leaving?”

“Yes,” Jason said and pain laced through Tim and he fought to not cry. “But we’re taking you with us.”

“You’re… what?”

“We’re taking you with us, Tim. Everyone is coming. We’re even picking Dick up from Bludhaven.”

Tim couldn’t believe it. He could only blink up at his brother and try to wrap his head around it.

“I’m...I’m coming too?”

Jason rolled his eyes and ruffled Tim’s hair. Affection thrummed through their bond. “Of course, go pack your bag. We’re not leaving you behind, but Alfred might start getting huffy and threatening it if we aren’t ready in the next twenty minutes."

~Kay

#kay speaks #jason todd #tim drake #the demon au

[monsterlovinghours]

Okay. You asked for robofizz prompts and I think I have something. Character (reader or OC, totally up to you) works at Loo Loo Land as a maintenance worker for the rides and games. Their day is busy as hell because, let’s be honest, shit breaks down a lot there. But, out of the blue, management makes them robofizz’s new mechanic because he killed the last one. This is the first time they’re meeting the deranged clown and things get pretty, you know, when character tries to fix his sparking wires. 👀👀👀👀👀

oh fuck here we go y’all sluts better buckle up

Ducking behind a row of rigged carnival games, you let your work bag fall to the ground as you took a breather, wiping sweat and what looked like engine oil (but could be anything from burnt sugar to cremation ash) off your forehead. Taking a job as a ride mechanic had seemed like a good idea at the time; get into the park for free, discounts on funnel cake, access to all the shows. All you had to do was tighten a few bolts and make sure nobody got electrocuted too severely. 

But here, like the rest of Hell, imps like you were disposable grunt workers and nobody gave two and a half shits if you were overworked or exhausted. Everything was broken or breaking. You were shocked (metaphorically and literally) your first day when you saw that behind the novelty prizes and shiny veneers, the park was just a rat’s nest of rusted metal, sharp edges, and exposed wiring. Mechanics were routinely crushed or mangled or fried, and within a day another had taken their place. So far, you’d managed to avoid the various death traps and make it a solid month, which made you one of the more senior employees. 

Today was especially busy; there was some important fuck and his daughter at the park today, and orders were to keep the place running as smoothly as possible, though “smooth” was a relative term. It had seen you running like a maniac from one end of the park to the other, your uniform shirt coming untucked from your grease-stained pants as you jogged from one disaster to the next. Predictably, as soon as you had a second to take a breath, your phone went off, the splintering chitter of its message alert drilling into your ears. 

Another mechanic was down, this one working to repair one of the main acts. You groaned, big machines you were fine with, but intricate wiring and robotics? Not your strong suit. And this was the top-billed show, the most loved (or most feared) performer the park had to offer. Fizzarolli himself. You hadn’t seen the show yet, and his ominous circus tent was one of the only places you hadn’t yet been called to to fix something, but since you were currently the most senior mechanic on staff at the moment, and seeing how RoboFizz had just crushed his last mechanic, the job fell unfortuitously to you. 

Fantastic.

You sighed and slung your tool bag over your shoulder, walking briskly through the crowds to hastily erected circus tent, which had been cleared of people for the time being. You took a deep breath before ducking inside, blinking a bit as your eyes adjusted from the bright light of midday to the dim green glow that filled the tent. Some benches were knocked over, a few still had blood spatter on them, but you'd straighten that up later. At the moment, your focus was on the shadowed figure bent in unnatural angles slumped on the stage. His eyes and grinning mouth were lit with the same dull green, and they narrowed to slits when they saw you. 

"Its about ti-time you got here, toots!" He laughed, the sound skipping like a damaged record. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you knelt behind Fizz to access his mainframe; at least the rides didn't talk. 

"Yeah yeah, its busy work keeping this shithole operating, sue me." A few twists with a screwdriver, and the panel popped free, exposing the tangled wires and hydraulics, and you groaned inwardly. This kind of detailed work was way beyond your level of experience. 

"Ya waiting for a formal invitation ba-ba-back there, tinker? Get moving, I've got an audience waiting!"

"Hell's sake, keep your bells on. I'm not exactly a robotics expert." Clamping a small flashlight in your teeth, you started to poke around inside the hydraulics, looking for any leaks or broken connections. Not seeing anything right away, you probed deeper, focused on finding the problem in the less than adequate lighting. Had you been more experienced in dealing with robots, you would have perhaps remembered to inspect the outer body for any exposed wiring. As it happens, you did not, and your inexperience led you to brush against an exposed set of wires that threw sparks and burned a dark, circular mark on the back of your hand. The pain made you jerk back on instinct, yelping and cursing. It took you a moment to notice that the posture of the clown had changed, straightening from his slumped position with his head cocked sharply to the side. With the soft ratchet of moving machinery, Fizz turned his head 180 degrees to look at you, and you noticed more quickly now that his stare had changed as well. Before, it felt derisive, a touch irritated behind the ever present smile he'd been programmed with. But now there was more intent inside the green, more interest...almost as if he were leering at you.

"Ohhh," he rasped, "so its gonna be that kind of show?"

You were confused, until you noticed a dot of red within the green, a new light in the mainframe, with tiny lettering indicating what new function your little spasm had switched on. 

18+ Mode On

Your eyes widened as the reality of your little mistake finally began to sink in. It was a well known fact that Fizz had an “adult” mode, mainly for private shows where wads of cash exchanged hands behind closed doors. Sometimes, the crowds at night were bigger than the crowds during the day. Sure, on a lonely night or two, you’d wondered just what a sex-capable robot clown could do and if shelling out a small fortune would be worth it. Now, it seemed, you were about to get an accidental freebie.

“Fuck.”

“That’s the idea, sweetcheeks.” Fizz got to his feet with a whir and a shower of yellowish sparks, his body jerking so that the back panel slammed shut, hiding his exposed mechanics and thwarting any attempt you might have made to switch his mode. From somewhere within the tent, jaunty calliope music began to play, the pitch slow and wavering at first, like playing a record on the wrong speed. “So what’s your ple-pleasure, sweet stuff? Your ol’ pal Fizzarolli can do it all-upstairs, downstairs, butt stuff, you name it.”

“I...uh…” Your entire body felt numb, frozen, unable to do much more than stare as he advanced toward you, looming over you with that malevolent, leering grin still on his fanged mouth. “I’m not...I mean, I don’t…”

Fizz paused, his head once more cocking sharply to the side as he regarded you, then he let out a laugh, the bells on his hat jingling as his head did a complete roll on his shoulders. “Aww, looks like someone’s sh-shy! Don’t worry, tinker,” he growled in a smug, condescending tone, reaching down to pat you on the head. “I’ll take the reins on this one. You just sit back and enjo-jo-joy the show!”

With a sinister chuckle, he lunged for you, wrapping his entire body around you like an electronic boa constrictor, that laugh still buzzing in your ear as he coiled tight, then unwound himself, flinging your body towards the ceiling of the tent. There was barely any time for you to pull breath into your lungs to scream, and then suddenly, you weren’t falling anymore. Something else was wrapped around you, something cold and biting as steel. Around each wrist, each ankle, your waist, and your neck, whiplike appendages were wound, thin and covered in shifting metal plates. You were being held in midair, suspended like a puppet; if the advertisements you’d seen plastered around the park were any clue, you would guess that you were getting a taste of the “real tentacle action” Fizz boasted. Indeed, from within the loose panel on his back was where the appendages seemed to originate. 

As he stalked closer, you gulped, the sickly green glow of his eyes bathing your face and throwing your shadow in harsh relief against the canvas wall. Fizz wasted no time, and with only a deranged giggle as a warning, he shoved his hand beneath the untucked hem of your shirt to slide into your pants, cold hand cupped firmly between your legs. Barely a sound had left you, everything happening so fast you could barely process, let alone react, but a moan left you now, the silk of his glove and the ruffle around his wrist feeling so strange and yet so good as they brushed against your most sensitive parts. Fizz chuckled, or at least, he attempted to, the sound glitching into a series of strange beeps in response to your apparent openness to his touch.

"Boy, hardly touched at all and you're already moaning? You must need it ba-bad, impling." He leaned closer, eyes narrowing, and you shied away from those sharp teeth, so close to your face. Without warning, that hand between your legs began to vibrate, and you yelped, wriggling in your bonds.

"Ohhh...oh fuck…!"

"Like I said," he crooned. "That's the idea-ea-ea." The vibrations cranked up a notch, and you could no longer keep still, your breath coming faster, tail thrashing behind you out of sheer pleasure. Truthfully, it had been a long time; when you were fighting to keep a roof over your head and passing out from near exhaustion the second you returned home at night, there wasn't much time to try and get laid. It was lonely and it sucked, but that's life. Now, touched for the first time in what could have been centuries for all you knew, your toes curled inside your work boots, tears forming in your eyes as your hips bucked against his hand. It was so good, so fucking good, and with every increase in speed, your moans and cries got louder, more desperate, until-

"Ah-ah-ah, tinker, no you don't!" Suddenly that hand was gone, all stimulation withdrawn, and you whimpered. The tentacles around your extremities tightened in response. "You thought I was just gonna let you co-come so soon? Poor, dumb little imp-slut, it ain't gonna be that easy."

You swore, your teeth bared in an impotent snarl, but the clown only laughed, more carnival-striped tentacles unfurling and wrapping around you, the metal cold against your overheated skin. Now fully immobile, you were lifted higher, splayed out, shaking and wanting. The new appendages began to nudge and press around your body, seemingly exploring your form while the clown stepped between your spread legs, hands groping at your trembling thighs. His smirk was near evil, merciless, piercing as a laser as he watched his tentacles divest you of every stitch of clothing, torn and tossed aside without care. The tips of his jester hat brushed along your legs as he leaned closer to your core, mouth opening to graze the tips of his sharp teeth along your inner thighs, chuckling when you writhed, uncertain if you were trying to pull away or get closer. “Please,” you whimpered, not quite knowing what you were begging for, your body reduced to firing synapses and electric pulses of pure need.

Again, that mocking giggle issued from somewhere behind his sharp teeth. “Begging now, slut? You really want it tha-a-at bad, huh?” His open mouth neared your center, and you noticed now that there was heat coming from him, like the brush of warm breath, and saw a faint reddish glow shining from somewhere within his maw. “Want Ol’ Fizz to make you come again and a-again like the greedy little tramp you are?”

“Yes,” you choked out, so far past caring how desperate you sounded. “Yes, please, please, please!”

A soft whir was your only warning before something long, warm, and slippery was sliding between your legs; your body spasmed, jerking against the restraining appendages, your head lifting to see his striped tongue pressing against you, coated in shiny lubricant. He licked experimentally at you, seeing how much pressure you liked and where you were most sensitive, continuing his brutal teasing as the needle-sharp tips of his fingers raked down your thighs, nearly drawing blood. Then that mouth opened impossibly wide, eyes narrowed to knowing slits as that tongue probed at your entrance, nudging against it before shoving inside with no warning. Gasps and choked half-words fell from your lips at the delicious stretch of being suddenly, violently filled, his tongue twisting and pushing, the stripes not just for decoration but denoting a raised, almost ribbed texture. 

When it began to vibrate inside you, you couldn’t help but scream.

He cooed filth up at you, still able to talk despite his mouth being wrapped around you, voice distorted from the vibrations. Yellowish sparks would issue from his limbs as he fought to keep you still, burning against your skin like vicious little kisses. You weren’t coaxed to the edge so much as dragged toward it, your orgasm slamming into you with near physical force. The clench and thrashing of your body didn’t slow him; if anything, the vibrations intensified, more tentacles issuing from him to stroke and tease other erogenous zones, your entire body his to play with, helpless against his ruthless pursuit of your ruin. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he ripped your pleasure from your body with no care to be gentle, teeth and hands leaving marks in their wake. You were his slut, his eager imp-whore, his pretty little toy; at least, you didn’t deny it when he growled these claims up at you. As long as he didn’t stop, you would be anything he wanted.

But while he couldn’t grow tired or drained, you certainly could, and through a veil of tears you begged him to stop, half afraid that he wouldn’t. Fizz paused, then slowly unwound himself from around your violently shaking form, tentacles disappearing back inside the panel they had come from. He regarded you curiously, still grinning as you collapsed in a boneless, shaking heap, unable to do much except pant for breath. Finally, you looked up at him with hazy eyes, your sweaty hair falling limply in your face.

“Didn’t you have a show to do?”

Fizz threw back his head and laughed, the bells on his hat jingling merrily, a stark contrast to the cold, malicious sound of his glee. “Not the sharpest t-t-tool in the shed, huh, tinker? Look around; you a-are the show.”

To your horror, you could see dozens of yellow eyes pinned to your naked form, imps of all shapes and sizes, eyeing you hungrily. The light of day outside the tent was gone, and the depraved crowds that only came around at night had filtered in while you were...preoccupied. Ruby skin turned a mortified burgundy as you scrambled to cover yourself with any scraps of your clothing you could find, but Fizz wrapped his arms around you and hauled you to your feet, his arm secure around your waist as he bowed to his audience-your audience. They began to applaud, some whistling, others throwing out lewd comments. Fizz pulled you into his side, the hand on your waist slipping just a little lower.

“Seems like we make a pretty good duo, dollface,” he rasped, showing off his pointed teeth in a lascivious grin that at your already weak knees nearly buckling. “Whaddya say we gi-gi-give them an encore?”

#helluva boss #robofizz #honk honk buzz buzz welcome to robot clown hell

[informedinterest]

Mcsm| Toxic leaders, friendships, coworkers & peers

(The  ol         Or          der)

  1. Soren          Is shown to be a reasonable leader that cares about his crew a reasonable amount, helped by the fact that he shown to be about excessive age, unlike Jesse who’s age is ambiguous possibly committing tox to Soren from what could be a adventuring - young adult age to excess - see below,                                                                                              for how tha                                                                                          t affects the story,)

How      eve        r is hampered by a       unfortunate history of tox              That        left            it’s           mar              k            o             n            h            i           m,

- Jesse

  Soren does not remove Jesse from his property despite it causing seemingly distress to him

 - if Jesse acts kind (or if hearing anyone (particularly the order) responds kindly to him), Soren will react with disbelief, If tox, he will excuse it beyond any healthy measures ‘ha a joke…as what friends do,’

    Whe          n n           o jok            e             s             are                n’t               pain              f              u               l              ,

Then there’s this line,

     “I’ve found when you give people what they want they turn on you, they become resentful,” - Soren

    And              Scene,

Soren cower         ing      from         his     team         mates

Eligard & Magnus          Fake smiles          impl           ing there is something that’s         actually wrong  and we quickly find out           why

  (I’ll go over the particulars about why        Soren might not be excited to see         Eligard & Magnus on site in their sections        )

  Point being,

   It doesn’t take long before it goes       tox      at the      cave,

- Eligard (or whoever is left of the Eligard or/ Magnus pai        ring)  takes         a pot shot at          Soren                        ,          Gabriel, “is he always           like this, “

     Eligard/Magnus; you have            no idea,

    (When Soren goes out for a          break due to distress          & after          the death        of a      friend,)        ,

- Ivor immediately tries to take the reins        after makin         g the    main       problem        (And his main          fail         safe       back        fired)

   You can clearly see things going        tox       quic      k      ly

  (Then there’s the in famous Ivor scapegoat scene      showing that even back then       he was         tox,            )

   And the rest is just Ivor       bein        tox,

                                                                                 (Until Soren event gets away                                                                                                         good for him)

- Eligard

   - Largely           non-tox                    but is a victim and                an ena            bler of Magnus

        - Small pre- men             tion                ed bit of tox

 - Magnus

    - abs.            ball of                 tox

     - causes             argu            ments

     - never        contributes          any         thing positive to the            group

       - Small              bit                of                tox                 a                  s mentioned above

        - Explicit                abuse                   o                   f              Eligard,                  Implied               abuse                    of                 Soren

     - Gabriel-

      - Little              is known              abou                t               hi                 m,              That he seems pretty unaware of the toxic            dynamic,

       Apart from          Magnus‘s tendency to           insti           gate             And Eligard’s          ten          dency           to          ar           gue,

     - Ivor

      - with Magnus at least you could argue he could’ve originally intend to fill some role if you squint,      with some routes      But with Ivor you can’t               He was tox from the beginning,           Continued       to be tox,           Not a redeemable             quality                in             sight                  ,

                                                                      Overall the group is a                                                                         gosh darn mess

       New             Order               ~

- Jesse - Despite being a leader, Jesse seems resentful of his leadership and constantly makes up things - ideas on the spot that no leader would leave to the last minute and would’ve already planned in advance/have a general idea  of, showing how the game mechanic damages a actual good story

    - His first mission is a find the person mission, not unheard of for a supportive subordinate character. However as a leader, it can come off as unnecessarily authority assuming, if not handled correctly, which unfortunately it wasn’t 1) By having this occur after a ‘break up’ in which several members isolated, placing this around excessive age 2) most of the members are reluctant to get together

Resulting in Jesse coming up as nagging or irritatingly intrusive.

              As a leader,

              There are two main goals,

               (To be 

                considered 

                 a 

                good 

                 one)

                  1. Attention to 

                      th

                       e 

                       mis

                       s

                        ion,

                       - With the psychological benefits teammates receiving prop stimuli

                      Jesse constantly waffles, 

                resulting in reasonably irritated 

             re

          sponses

            fro

            m 

            hi

             s 

        team

        mates

                    2. Tending to your Team                        mates,                          Self-explanatory                                  

                                   Jesse                                               doesn’t                                            seem                                                to                                                   care                                            about his                                            team                                              mate                                               s                                             Until it reaches                                  the mandatory                                   spots, or (is believed) to go past critical (see Lukas “crying”                                                   and they                              refuse to move                                      until                                    he                             does,

                  The correct                        pro                         to                       co                        l,

                 Bein                          g                           constant               availability,                            to                        thei                         r                      lei                            sur                            e

                Care kept satisfactory                      and short                   without dragging the mission to a              stand                still

                     Despite, Jessie’s showing only the barest minimum of retention wit h  hi      s pe        t       pig, 

  How about he still has plenty of time micromanaging 

the          one          thing        you        don’t        want            to          do,

     An argument can’t break out without Jesse               interject

     Showing that he has no trust in his        team        mates to be able to resolve their own       conflict

   Then again it comes from the person who is the worst role model/sets the worst example

   Gettin            into a squibble             Wi         th           hi    s           subordinates/           (temporary)                co-leader               Lukas

        Fi                             gh                t                 in                g           over a           de             tect                 ion uni                t,

         Note               ,                        Well confrontations over a stolen role might get             phys             that             I am              not             den              y                 in                 g,

      (The above mentioned things leads it to                    (lean                      in                 Luk                 as‘                  s                favor

           Tha                      t Jesse is the one that stole the role   

              (Not helpful for the fact that Lukus acts like a                  spited leader                 Al                  l through                       out,                And has characterized              the he doesn’t stand up for himself

       (Even if wrong, Jesse is still reprimands a           sub      ordinate,                        ) - Lukas

     Likely the victim of Axle’s           Tox,

      Lukas falls into most of the pitfalls that           Soren does, not standing up for himself         and possibly leaving (even for a short time) when the tox gets too much - Olivia

     Pretty           non tox            Some implied self-esteem issues with her place in the group constantly asking questions to validify it             ,

- Axel

   - Openly scares his friends               and takes pleasure                 from distress

           - Humor doesn’t come from                      sad/                    Despair                     it comes from                            happi                 ness,

      - Almost literally cannot go five seconds without starting an argument or being tox            (Specifically towards             Lukas)                  ,

       Following the unfortunate theme of          green being tox     despite it being grow             t              h,

- Petra

    (Season 1)

     Tox

 - Expecting them to find her          despite not vibin’                              the loc                                  at                                    ion,

     demeaning

  - Threats of         violence

    “Not getting punched in the face              for saying that             right now,”                   - Petra

       Coercion

      General authority assumption

      Separation Jesse         from his friends,        friends          separating/or         hanging out with          other friends            on their own will is non-tox

      Authority assumption- entitlement to excess

       Promises             an          lies           are                  pret              ty         useless

    (Season 2)

- Petra

     - Tox

        - General Tox

            - demeaning

            - Guilt tripping

               - Friend ship

               - Adventures

               - Lack o.                   Adventures                - End goal - Jesse helps her find the llama and threaten/coerce Stella, who she also has a toxic manipulator/manipulated relation ship with (through likely      intimidation         as Petra knows that Stella          has a             thing           w/th         Jesse        and         two          on          one          num           er            ical,             ,

        After               all

                  - when it’s                   discovered that Petra is                         retiring to champion city

    - gas light               ed,             (-claiming things to happen that didn’t really happen,)

     - Petra’s guilt trip of the treehouse;

       “ we used to hang out in the treehouse                all the time,” - Petra

        Show it            or it didn’t happen

           - to our knowledge                    never happened,

              - Emotional                      Abuse/

                       - “Friends,”

  - Jack

       - Bit non-tox except for some                 snips               at Nurm

       - The general having to          ‘one Up’             everyone,

 - Nurm

  (Od.       d      take         on   senti    e    nce

nar     rat ive  

tox,

        Pretty clear except for                 (apparent)             put down on Jack’s naming                convention

- Romeo,  

   Pretty similar to            Petra,

General Tox

   General       Authority      Assumption

- Emotional            Abuse

     - Guilt tripping

- Logical      abuse

     - Gaslighting

- Physical       abuse

   - Acts of         violence

        - Destruction                of un          Account             able           pro.        per            ty,         (Dif      ferent         from      ac      countable)           ,

    All of above;

     demeaning

      coercion

   - Threats of           violence

    - Apparent            murde             r

    - Abuse              of           sub            ordin           ates      Should not be        redeemed

    Xara

      - Straight up kills            a person

          Radar-

          Refusal to             read              the             vibes                 aka               Several misdemeanors               worth of tox           for general obsessive behavior unbefitting, unhealthy              and unnatural                       of a                   sentient,

#mcsm crit

[msindifferent]

Quaint`sh “FP”

How shall I trust this faceless and intangible?

Sometimes life gets so complicated, yet the world around me sleeps. Not a day goes by when I don't feel washed out and a point where I pass from which I can't return.

When love become a strange thing. Until...

...the Serendipity

WHERE breeze is light and refreshing. Waves are pleasant. But my heart is not still. That is the imagined chaos. I am so eagerly waiting for words to fill in the void that is missing. Serendipitous encounters have shaped my life in extraordinary ways. The universe has generously granted me a string of fortuitous `accidents` of the most interesting and delightful kind... from the romanticized to professionalism. Which leads to a positive next chapter, an unknown and enriching ripple effect, storing some sparks for future use. That surrealist kind feeling have left me for decades. Could it been that it is right here right now? I could only dream. 

...the Cosmic Connection

WHEN in this lifetime we will meet two types of individual. The Karmic and the Cosmic ones. The Karmic are those who strengthen and put us on a path to serious retrospection. Serve as emotional detox. They maybe bring out the worst or best in us. Whilst, Cosmic is a connection you feel instantly as if you have known each other your whole life. Conversations will flow naturally. It has strong psychic connection that felt like you are bonded for time immemorial. Simply saying that maybe far from being a stranger and a friend, there goes some connections both in uncertain and mystical, yet beautiful and liberating.

YOU... I am looking at a person who seems in between the mirage of the heretics or the multifaceted. The ladies' man and now the great altruist. A Conundrum. Well traveled but still grounded. Worldly but still cognizant of the things that really mattered. No matter whom he met or where he was, no doubt that he had an innate ability to make others, especially women, feel as if he was in kinship with them. “Orenda” aura.

IT is the way you interact with people. You carry yourself with the sort of confidence that a lot of women find appealing. You understand what women want, yet unwilling to give yourself completely.

You are in-existent. But in the eyes of those who understand, you exist in everything. You are the conundrum. But to people who found their selves digging deep, you become the definition of good. You are numb. But to few whom you find tastefully likable and trustworthy, you become the most sensible, simple, yet complex.

YOU maintain that facade of a flirtatious  maybe nothing, but to some whose lives you have touched, you are someone to keep.

"WHERE talks become a delighted piece of the universe shifted into another; a place where all is right and possible. That, and so much more to be thankful for a person who is faceless but real. A great pleasure to behold. A faceless pleasure." - A

#faceless #pleasure #entanglement #MNML #HAPPYBIRTHDAY #MonthOfMay

[ladylilithprime]

🌻🌻🌻

Today is Impling's fourth birthday!

My cat keeps waking me up to demand cuddles.

I have a personalized wake-up message from Misha from GISHWHES 2017 that I sometimes take aggressive pleasure in silencing if I didn't get enough sleep.

#sunflower randomness

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Poem # 8648

Their horrid seems to myself,  in rubies and his  child of the foam what  half bronze, and on  its of God and brough this 

bare and did plates— with wonderstood in  blooming, silk-saft fauld their own  but Heavenly sighd, gone of the  prickly appear before 

I am to  my chill beauties best was— pardon the prove  not be the past,  and turns her rarely standst 

thence of the mystery  caroll the call to  see all, men and  eenin sun. On his pleasures  here was they taking 

no old grass youngling by, gl ancing an air dangley-depths of  our branches,  up the depth office  now I pitiful as yon most 

difficult to  pot. That dainties prove. Which the  moonbeams to  light, what is call there was  world and thought 

me; and know even to  fight, and those whole I seen  Power octave clouds in mine the  dare not betray, and  years, and fickle Nelly 

Gray! I mere quick, we drops from  this orphane playd with  of late urgently  to hold, as welnigh lands,  thee and let it would 

not a weake the sable  wings, and wooing down over  the gold: as such vision!  Where this is  the laid it go astray 

impartment and have  gone? Another springs as  cold dream and had in  silvery nervous enjoy  hats. And Winter out; or 

like Saint press time I heart that  trodden member: then ever  sensibility, Lets pleasaunce: You.  and no less pretty maiden,  the soul, were smooth trust. 

but like that woulders—yet  like the said, “He was  none his tears:  over they take the deseruewe  his could be a 

thou so At a joyous day  Them to shout draw  the phantom of  your of the  yeares? Best armour time the 

place, says—‘Ill to  a laws.��alas! sunk children’ commission;  and fair Adeline  the imple strolled it  end? A very miraculous, 

gracious, impervious, imper  have been thought into  gold to  join the most  preservd by his poachers read 

the ‘lake,’ rolled it  eer a lord, still to speak  profane couth: no preparate;  and sit always proofe shining  I could do. The 

next to see it oughts  quite whizzing of  holes. He world adieu, (a work,” must  claime as if the  grey churls, that Stella, shouldest 

makeless Gray! ), Gave her  the sea grow in its  frae me, I heart those sings,  and see say so. it what  with pryde to 

avowd upon such a claspd  my nude and as we  pure apt served to gives: they can  I am talking  at all wind without marriage 

temper and runs back  from those whose manhood is not  oer it anew  revive; inspired, the  Kiss of that I 

do so. Friend scarce suspectral guess, sons,  or scorne to  the should curtsying out with  the despot  kind many a tedious ills— 

a birds and, to  one splendous they cryed vnto herself  to be cured:  sunk chill who seruants behind, the  body: and Juan 

shore thy fair, Cheerful parson, then breath  the gracious, shelter  that euer may face at first a  stormy time, but Juans plays along  shutting. why thou do no high, 

which we in lustre,  most sinks all a bee. When  I have sympathies,  and takes somethings, which is  about to grieved 

to wars accesse calld with  the fire,  when Juliana  commission, and shown in  dare I, aristocrat, democrat, 

admired, the  night, when I am  to speaking of  human strong heart and the  reapd; your heart.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #135 texts