POST #1

[goldensunkinkmeme]

Oh wait there's supposed to be more here, isn't there?

OH WELL.

Make sure you read the rules here, but otherwise, have fun!

When fills and requests start coming in, a post tracking them will be made. (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

Comments

Amiti/whatever dude you want, mint chocolate

[(Anonymous)]

Supposedly, mint flavors sting a bit on the sensitive skin of lips... imagine how it would sting somewhere else.
So. What if Ayuthay had some completely absurd tradition where a guy's endurance in bed was tested by...
a) tying them to a chair with nothing on
b) dribbling warm mint chocolate on their dick
c) lots of licking and sucking by someone else for an extended period of time
d) repeat B and C as much as desired
under the rule "don't come until I tell you to or you fail".

How long can whatever guy Amiti wants to torture go? Does this guy pass or fail? Up to any anon who finds this appealing enough to write ~

Isaac/Mia, body heat

[(Anonymous)]

It's cold????? And they want be warm????????? Cue sex??????????????

Isaac/Garet, quiet morning

[(Anonymous)]

Because some guy on tumblr draws some cute lavashipping pics and I just began shipping them after reading that headcanon entry.

Old men should not be so cute.

Hangover Remedy

[(Anonymous)]

"Wait."

Mildly irritated, Isaac stops in his tracks. "Again? The food's going to go bad."

"Just... Hold on for a bit."

"Garet, it's getting late. We have to get back to the cabin as soon as possible and divvy up the supplies. In case you don't recall, Patcher's Place isn't that close to-"

"Quit nagging. This is all your fault anyway."

"Excuse me?"

"Really hard to walk like this, you know," Garet grumbles miserably, leaning heavily against a nearby tree. One of the straps to his pack had torn several minutes before, but with the way Isaac's practically sprint-hiking, that leaves him no time to actually try to patch it up.

"I'm sorry that I went... a little overboard," Isaac says. He shifts slightly and takes a seat next to him. "But you were just asking for it that time."

Garet stares at him incredulously. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. You brought it upon yourself."

"What? So you're saying it was my fault?"

"Well, not exactly."

"Then what the hell are you trying to say?"

Isaac sighs. "What I'm trying to say is that I didn't appreciate you spouting all of that nonsense so loudly that practically everyone in the building heard."

"Blame the alcohol the for that," Garet mumbles.

"Right." Isaac rolls his eyes as he pulls Garet back to his feet, supporting his weight as they both start walking again. Upon hearing Garet fail to stifle a grunt, he stops yet again to look at him in concern. "Garet?"

"What?"

"Does it really hurt that badly? Do you need me to heal you again?" he prods.

"What? No. No, no, no. It's just, it feels... weird to trek all the way since... uh... you know."

"Elaborate."

"...You know."

"Garet."

"Fine," Garet huffs, shuffling forward. "I've never walked this much right after a brutal assfucking."

Isaac flushes as he jogs to catch up to him.

"For hours."

"Well, you never hear me complaining when you top."

"Because I don't strap you down."

"That's-"

"And I don't make you beg while I come three times before your first."

Isaac covers his face with his hand to hide his reddening cheeks.. "Alright, okay. I... I may have gotten too into it, but..."

"But what?"

"You were seriously asking for it. Honestly, you made it sound as if I had erectile dysfunction."

Not missing a beat, Garet replies, "You do, though. Ow!" Scowling, he rubs the back of his head.

"You definitely deserved that."

"Now why would you say that?"

"Hm," Isaac strokes his beard in mock-recollection, glowing slightly. Then a flower randomly blooms on his shoulder at the same time that he makes an overly dramatic "A-ha!" Garet plucks it off by the stem and flings it in the blond's mouth. Isaac sputters incoherently and spits it out. "Garet, that could've been poisonous."

"Tch, you're the one who used up your psynergy over that."

"Just trying to liven up the mood..."

Garet notices the change in his tone and mutters a half-hearted apology. "Come on." He pushes onward as Isaac supports his weight. He knows that Isaac's about to complain, so he quickly adds, "I just want to go back home and sleep in our room tonight."

Isaac blinks. "'Our'?"

"...I didn't mean it like that."

Isaac laughs. "Of course, you didn't."

He ignores Garet's griping for the rest of the trip.

* * * * *

"Garet."

Something's poking him.

"Garet." Poke.

"Nnn." His head's pounding.

"Garet." Poke.

"Go 'way." It's getting annoying. He doesn't feel like dealing with anything right now except for that headache.

"Garet." It's poking at his foot now.

Garet growls and knocks the offending thing away by driving his foot into it, savoring the indignant squawk accompanied by a loud thud, as he pulls the covers tightly around his body. The following peace only lasts for a few minutes before he thinks he's drowning. Tangled in the covers, he flops around wildly on the now-wet bed.

"Are you awake yet?" Sarcasm.

Garet pokes his head out of his makeshift cocoon and squints at the blur in front of him. He scowls and tries to maturely give it the finger, which tangles him up in the covers even more.

"Good to see that you're back in the world of the living," Isaac deadpans and scans his body. Idly dodging a pillow, he comments, "Just boxers?" He places two cups on the floor and assists Garet with peeling off the wet material from his body, earning a thankful but still irritated grunt from him.

"Thanks." From his vantage point, Garet finally gets a good view of the blond: he's in his usual getup only without the jacket, baldric, gloves, and scarf. Or is it an ascot? He'd have to ask him later. There's also a nasty-looking footprint on his face. He asks, "Why'd you wake me up so early?" before clutching at his throbbing head.

Isaac's immediately at his side with one of the cups. He offers it to him as he rubs his back. "Drink this." It's... pasty orange juice?... with chocolate powder?

Garet looks at him in askance.

"It'll help with your hangover. Just swallow it all in one-" He pauses and looks at just how much was in the cup. "Swallow as much as you can in deep gulps."

It takes several attempts for him to ingest everything, and by the time he's finished, Garet's gasping for dear life and cursing the hell out of Isaac. "What... What the fuck... Isaac... What?"

"Prairie oysters," he says. "I've read that those help with alleviating hangovers." He pauses again. "However, I think seven eggyolks are actually a bit too much now."

"You think?""

"Shh." Isaac's rubbing his back again, and Garet can't help but lean against him. "Just let it go through your system."

Garet hums wordlessly as Isaac continues his ministrations. Frankly, he's enjoying being pampered. It makes him feel special. Like he... He shakes his head internally. Leaning forward, he coughs loudly as his body tries to expel the excess spices in his throat, and Isaac comes to his rescue yet again with that second cup which is partially filled with water. Garet practically inhales it before asking, "Seven? Really?"

"Seven mugs of beer."

Garet hums yet again in response. He shivers slightly because of the water cooling on his body, to which Isaac drapes a jacket over his body. Technically, it's Isaac's jacket. The denim's unmistakable. He blinks. Why was he letting him use his?

"Sorry, I couldn't find yours and the towels are still drying," Isaac clarifies before Garet returns the cup to him. "Do you need to lie down?"

"No." Garet wraps the jacket tighter around body, pulling the lapels up slightly both to warm himself up and take a deep whiff of it. It's nice. Comforting. And it simply smells like Isaac. Garet hopes that he doesn't notice, but if he does, he doesn't say anything. "What time is it?"

"Roughly past noon."

"...Oh. Where are the boys?"

"They should be off sparring with each other across the bridge." Isaac nods to himself as if to verify his comment. "Tyrell said you were supposed to be training them right now, but I told them that you were feeling a bit under the weather today." Without warning, he places his palm on Garet's forehead.

"So, I guess that means... Because I'm sick, I get the day off, huh, mommy?" Garet grins hopefully.

Isaac rolls his eyes. "'Being sick' doesn't necessarily come to mind when I think of someone of your size. If anything, a big lug like you should be up and about within a few hours unless the illness is practically killing you."

"That's not a very nice thing to say to someone who's dying, you know."

"Don't twist my words. I never said that you were dying, and hangovers shouldn't be able to do that. Besides, I have another cure in mind, so you should hopefully be getting better soon."

"But I like it when you act like my nanny," Garet wheedles.

"You just like to act like a child."

"You don't mean little ol' me, do you?"

Isaac raises an eyebrow.

Garet's startled when something warm presses against the thin material of boxers and firmly grasps his cock. His erect cock. Goddamned morning wood. He didn't even notice that because of the damned headache. Before Garet has a chance to recoil or even yelp, Isaac's mouth is on his.

Isaac's kissing him roughly as he pushes him down against his bed. Pulling back, Isaac eases Garet's boxers down by the front and wraps his fingers around his cock. He idles for a bit, fingers flexing and unflexing against the sensitive skin before his other hand joins in, gently stroking the glans. "'Little?' Right, I think you're just shortchanging yourself," he says before diving back down, pressing hot kisses against his neck, his shoulders, his chest, suckling hard enough to make Garet squirm.

"Wait, Isaac." Garet shudders. "The boys might-"

"They'll be back in at least two hours. That should be more than enough time for one round, maybe even two," Isaac murmurs before kissing him again. "Unlike you, I know when to lock the door."

"You're-" Garet's breath hitches when Isaac's grip on his cock tightens. "You're still going on about that?"

The strokes become more pronounced, more deliberate, and Garet instinctively bucks his hips when Isaac fists his cock in earnest. There's a short pause when Isaac decides to let go and yank the boxers down to mid-thigh, which Garet appreciates if the fact that he immediately raises his hips off of the mattress is any indication.

Unfortunately, there's a sudden lack of activity for the next few seconds. Isaac's no longer jerking him off, and Garet growls before deciding to take matters into his own hands, fingers clamoring to his throbbing dick. His plan goes awry when he feels something warm and wet sliding against his balls, and it takes him a few moments to realize that it's Isaac's tongue before moaning. Isaac assumes that he's doing a good job and brings his lips to Garet's cock, slurping messily, clumsily, around the head.

"...Fuck, Isaac..."

Isaac hums against his heated skin as his hands busy themselves, one of them kneading Garet's balls and the other pressing against his thigh, spreading his legs wider, and Garet starts thrusting enthusiastically. Within moments, Garet's hands find themselves in his hair, tugging insistently not enough to hurt but to coax him to stop playing around, so Isaac obliges to his unspoken request and takes as much of him inside. What he can't fit into his mouth, he stops playing with Garet's balls and jerks at the base of the cock before sucking hard. He hears Garet approve rather vocally and chuckles, the vibrations sending Garet into a frenzy before something finally snaps and then he's just gone. Garet's fingers yank at Isaac's hair almost painfully as he comes hard, gasping out Isaac's name, trying to buck even deeper into his mouth.

Garet tries to come up with a witty retort if that was supposed to be that magical remedy Isaac was referring to, but all that comes out is a muffled groan because Isaac's mouth is back on his, chest to chest, and he ends up tasting himself when Isaac's tongue forces itself inside, skillfully pressing against his. His fingers slide from Isaac's hair before his hands fall back to his sides as what's left of his mind turns to putty. Isaac has his ways to easily put him into such a state, damn him. Luckily, he has enough bearings left to comment when Isaac pulls back to finally breathe. "...So. New hangover treatment, eh?"

"Did it work?" Isaac asks. He licks off the semen on his upper lip in such a manner that Garet thinks he's getting hard again.

Garet starts a bit when Isaac lazily jerks him off. Oh, so he wants to play some more. "I don't know." He grins cheekily. "My head still kind of hurts. Maybe you should give me another dose."

"I see," he says, disheartened. "Unfortunately, I'll have to decline for the moment."

At that, Garet looks at him quizzically.

"As your personal apothecary, I require donations for my services. Priesthood rules and whatnot." There's an edge in his tone as Isaac straddles him. Perching himself on Garet's chest, legs spread, knees pressing against the knots on his shoulders, he continues, "However, once I'm paid, we'll discuss other fees."

Garet guffaws loudly. His hands fly up to firmly grasp Isaac's buttocks, and he nuzzles against his erection, watching the blond lick his lips. Garet opens his mouth to frame his teeth along the turgid length of Isaac's cock through his pants and murmurs, "Well, then. Your money's right here."

In reply, Isaac starts unbuckling his belt.

Felix/Jenna while traveling with Saturos and Menardi

[(Anonymous)]

I guess I don't have anything specific. . . Just this pairing and this time period.

Out Flew The Web And Floated Wide [Felix/Jenna, M] [1/4]

[(Anonymous)]

Fuck, I haven't written for a kink meme in half a decade... There is no such thing as thread necromancy on Dreamwidth, right?

I know you'll never see this, OP, but who knows. Maybe someone will stumble across this in 2025 and enjoy.

Copious amounts of incestuous angst - sex only offscreen, fortunately or unfortunately. My working title for this was Crippling Codependency In One Month Or Less. (Perhaps inaccurate on the timeframe, but it's the thought that counts.) Actual title comes pretentiously from Tennyson's The Lady of Shallot.

Felix/Jenna; some Saturos/Menardi and insinuated Alex/Mia.

Unbetaed and unedited, and it's been forever since I wrote a fic at length, so I'm aware it may have serious flaws. Hope there's nonetheless something for readers to enjoy.

---

Felix doesn't feel like her brother.

Perhaps it's insane to think that, but Jenna doesn't know what else to think. Her family's been dead for three years. She grieved, she suffered, and at last she laid them to rest in her heart. To find her brother alive again, barely resembling the boy he was when she lost him...

Maybe it's the circumstances. Maybe, if he had quietly returned to Vale and revealed himself to her, she could work through her shock and confusion and happiness in peace. Maybe it will anyway, and it just hasn't sunk in because she's in a daze from being kidnapped by two lunatics and their smiling friend, with Felix treating them as reluctant allies but allies all the same.

Her heart is in turmoil, and her mind's in worse. Kraden's little help; the old scholar has his own troubles, and she half-worries the breakneck pace at which the strangers are driving them will be his undoing. She's hardly about to turn to them for comfort, and something about their friend, affable though he might be, sends ice down her spine.

So, stranger with her brother's face or not, she turns to Felix, because she has no one else.

---

Felix awakens with a start as something brushes up against him.

The sharp feminine cry is no monster's, though, and so he shakily lays down the sword he instinctively seized. "Jenna?" he asks, sitting up.

"I... I'm sorry," comes the stumbling reply, and his gut twists. He nearly attacked... If his reflexes had been faster, he might have...

"What are you doing in here?" he asks, rubbing his eyes. A sigh comes from beside him.

"I can't sleep," his sister confesses after a long pause. "I need to sleep, I know. Those... people... are early risers, and I know we'll be up at the crack of dawn, but..." Her hair brushes him when she shakes her head. "I can't sleep," she repeats. "Even with all the marching we've been doing, I've barely slept at all for days... I just keep thinking of Isaac and Garet, and..." Silence. "I just thought... I don't know if you remember, but when we were children, if I had a nightmare, I'd creep in to..."

"I remember," he says, laying a tentative hand on her shoulder. It's strangely difficult to think of her as that little girl; he left behind a gangly girl, little more than a child, and found a bright-eyed young woman. It... disconcerts him. More than anything else, watching the young woman Jenna had become in his absence sank the dagger into his gut that he could never really go home again. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I've just... acquired instincts..."

"Traveling with those people, I'm not surprised," she mutters; even as she speaks, she leans into his hand, and he first stiffens, then relaxes. It's more acceptance than he feared he would get. "Felix?" she says after a moment.

"Yes?"

"So... that's all I want you to do. Just... please, hold me... like you used to..."

Felix hesitates, then reaches over and wraps his arms around her. "Thank you," she murmurs, burrowing her head into the crook of his neck and holding him close.

It's not long until her body relaxes, and her breathing falls into the deep rhythm of sleep. It's him who stays awake, staring into the darkness, until light starts to leak through the thin walls of the tent.

---

"Our parents are alive?"

Her voice rises to a near-scream, and she fights to keep from tipping over that edge. A mad part of her mind doesn't know why she's surprised. These two saved Felix, after all; why should they have only saved him? Why not both of them, and...

"Kyle too," he confirms, and a hysterical laugh bubbles out of her mouth. She presses her hand over it before more can emerge. This is all a dream, this is all an insane dream, nightmare mingled with her most desperate prayers. Her brother, her parents, and even Isaac's father are all alive and well - that's how she knows it's a dream. She's had this dream so many times, after all, even if the kidnapping is new. She'll come to believe it, even knowing it can't be true, and then she'll wake to the sun shining in her eyes, and a grief in her heart that no amount of joy and sunlight can ever fill...

"Provided you continue to cooperate, of course," the blue-skinned man says, gesturing with his roast Vermin-on-a-stick, and she nods absently. Come to think of it, she remembers Isaac and Garet telling her about the strangers they saw on the night of the storm, who beat them into unconsciousness and fled - these two must be her sleeping mind's reconstruction of the odd descriptions they gave. That's how they made it into the dream.

Maybe it's still the night before Kraden's planned visit to Sol Sanctum. The thought of going to that place must have brought up memories of the storm, and... and she'll wake, and find herself in her own bed. All of it, a mad dream... Nothing more...

She gives a weak little laugh into her hand, and wonders if this is what it's like to go mad.

"We will cooperate," Felix says in a tired voice, as though he's had this discussion many times over. "When will you believe me?"

"When you stop looking like you'll bolt the moment you figure out how you can," the pink-skinned woman says, lowering her own haunch of meat.

"I... I understand the necessity, it's just..."

"The dangers of Alchemy, the dangers of Alchemy," the blue-skinned man scoffs. "Yes, of course. The whole world might be destroyed because some idiots might, someday go mad with their their Psyenergy. Just imagine what devastation they might wreak! Why, Weyard itself might even crumble away!" He bares his teeth. Jenna notices absently that they look more like some animal's than anything belonging in a human face. "Wouldn't that be horrible, Felix?"

Felix just gives a sick sigh and looks away.

This is nothing more than a dream, a dream of madness, Alchemy, and the dead risen once more. It has to be.

Jenna stares into the campfire and wonders when she'll wake up.

---

It takes a week for it to really set in that it isn't a dream. That, on the night of the worst storm of living memory, the same thugs who beat two children and left them unconscious in the mud also dove into a roaring river and saved four lives even their own neighbors had given up for dead.

For their own reasons, of course. But she has no room to complain: how many nights did she spend on her knees, praying and pleading that she'd give anything, anything, to have some miracle occur, to have someone suddenly announce that her parents and brother had been found alive, however strange the circumstances or how far from Vale that might be, and they'd be reunited shortly? The error is only hers, that she underestimated the strangeness of the Wise One's providence, and fell into the folly of insufficient faith.

It's easier to bear her present circumstances if she clings to the thought that even these people might be agents of the Wise One's will. No matter how mad their quest or how brutal their natures, it might be that exalted will that they serve their purpose in some greater scheme, and her along with them. She was never that pious back when she was in Vale - but her brother and parents were dead then. Seeing a miracle in the flesh - traveling alongside a miracle in the flesh - made one reevaluate one's faith.

Even so, it's hard to cling to that in the face of harsh reality, in the endless drudgery of days of trundling through unfamiliar terrain, of the strangers always insisting on taking the most direct route even if it's the most difficult, of sickness from what rations they can scrounge off the land and fear of whether she regained her family only to lose her friends. Her only reassurance is the thought that, if the Wise One were so generous as to spare her family, he could not be so cruel as to allow two innocent boys to be robbed of their lives through no fault of their own.

But were they innocent, in the Wise One's eyes? After all, they had violated the inmost sanctum, even before others had followed them in... That was sin enough, the elders would say...

Kraden's no help in times like these: she can barely stand to look at the old man when she thinks that his cajoling and persuading might have cost Isaac and Garet their lives, and he lacks the knowledge to confirm or deny her worst fears. The two strangers are less than useless: the man says they're probably dead, with a strong undertone of serves them right, and the woman says brusquely that they'll play dead if they know what's good for them. That friend of theirs, the blue-haired Alex, speaks a few words of comfort, but she soon recognizes the soothing and empty tones of a trained healer - she knows it well enough, from her grief after the loss of her family, and knows also its abject uselessness in the face of true tragedy.

Felix is her only comfort. When she voices her fears to him, he's the only one who will wrap his arms around her, holding her close and assuring her that this world is stranger than can be imagined. That the same chance that found a boulder coming down and destroying his world could find him vomiting water on a strange riverbank, white-hot pain from his broken ribs lancing through his half-conscious haze, as a woman's voice shouted that she'd just pulled out another...

His voice is soothing, and his temperament steady; she can lay her cheek against his chest and forget about everything else. Alchemy, grief, and fear... None of that matters as long as this tall, handsome stranger with her brother's name is holding her in his arms.

Some distant dread twists her gut at that thought, but she doesn't know why. He is tall and he is handsome; what's wrong with that? Why should she have a feeling of approaching doom, as intense as the dawn and inevitable as the dusk, from recognizing a fact?

Why does she feel like she's going mad?

---

He didn't expect it to be this hard.

Not so long ago, he was the most reluctant member of their traveling group. Saturos and Menardi - nothing short of the gates of Hell would daunt them, and he's not sure those would be enough. Alex... wants it as badly as they do, perhaps even more. And he can't tell why. The reason Alex has blithely given him, in a private discussion, is that Imil will be next after Prox as the world rots... but that doesn't explain the hunger in his eyes, the way he smiles when he thinks no one is looking.

No, none of them have doubts. It used to be only him. He, at least, could bury his guilt in the thought that he hadn't been a member of the throng guarding Sol Sanctum for years, that he was doing it all under duress - that his parents' lives hung in the balance. He couldn't be blamed for what he was doing, even if it brought a death for the world in fire rather than ice. He was just...

But seeing his sister like this, so miserable and vulnerable... It unearths that guilt and makes it fresh. A brother should protect his little sister, not aid in her kidnapping. And the strong man he sees reflected in her eyes should be helping a young woman in need, not petting her and soothing her like a beast shying away as it's led to the slaughter.

He's a failure as a brother and as a man. Concepts such as 'duress' and 'duty' fade before that truth, and any loyalties lying in a land far to the north pale in comparison to the girl who clings to him like a shipwrecked sailor to a rock. Out of habit as much as fidelity, he tries to block out that creeping knowledge, telling himself he must quash his personal misgivings in subservience to greater goals, but... not strongly. Perhaps not for long.

Menardi would say he'd already been a failure as a man, of course, and laugh in his face at the notion that he could have thought differently. But he knows who would be in her thoughts as the ideal of a man - sees it every time her guard's down and her gaze wanders, sees where it inevitably fixes and stays. He has no desire to become like Saturos.

That man would call him ungrateful, and slyly ask how there could be such ingratitude after all he's done for Felix, for his family... but Saturos never does anything without an expectation of later repayment. There's no kindness in that man, and little conscience - none, except for the look in his eyes when he and Menardi stand before the memorial in Prox to those who perished at Sol Sanctum, still and solemn as statues amid the falling snow. In their name and for their memory, those two would do anything, harm anyone, raze anywhere that stood in their path in the quest to carry out their comrades' last mission, and prove to an uncaring universe that their lives were not for nothing. They are madmen, and he is... what? If they are madmen, how much madder he who follows them?

If Jenna only knew how he was failing her... he clings to her as much as she to him. She's the unshakable evidence he used to be, should be, more than Saturos and Menardi's obedient servant - more than a warm body attuned to Venus Psyenergy, existing only as a key to a faraway lock, to be cast aside and left to wander where he will once his purpose is done.

More and more, he's beginning to wonder where that might be, and whether it will wait for the hour they've decreed.

Eoleo/Amiti (crossposting from lj)

[(Anonymous)]

After finding his uncle ill, Amiti finds himself stressing over 1) the possibility of losing a family member, and 2) having to reign.
Eoleo can be empathetic for the first one... and actually knows much more about the second point than people expect, being a prince himself, pirate country or no.
Bonding over the weight of royalty?
I'm aiming for shippy, but it doesn't have to snowball into smut

Re: Eoleo/Amiti (crossposting from lj)

[(Anonymous)]

Will be doing this, soon as I find the time.

(There, now I have to.)

Karis/Sveta

[(Anonymous)]

Karis is curious about Sveta's beast shape.

Karis/Matthew/Tyrell

[(Anonymous)]

In that order.
Matthew may be the leader, but in the bedroom they all know who calls the shots.

Eoleo/Amiti

[(Anonymous)]

Cliché romance story plot I saw those cover edits okay?
Eoleo is a ruthless pirate, Amiti is a prince, kidnapping happens, ~tumultuous~ tsun romance ensues.
Make it as clichéed as you can. If you still manage to keep them mostly IC I'll worship you.
I just need this crack in my life

Eoleo/Rief fill crosspost

[(Anonymous)]

From the lj meme:
I'd love to see some Eoleo/Rief. Everyone expected Eoleo to be quite dominant and snarly, but it turns out he's very gentle and loving and careful... and protective.

Emphasis on the protective, it's pretty much my favourite kink.

Fill here (http://purplepimphats.livejournal.com/2066.html?thread=297234#t297234). I'll repost the entire thing here once it's done.

[(Anonymous)]

Mia topping someone (preferably a girl but seriously ANYONE). With ice play if possible, pls.

gen request: Inception crossover

[(Anonymous)]

Inception AU, featuring any of the cast (= squeeze in as many as you want). Pairings free, aiming for gen but smut welcome, gogogo.

You don't have to necessarily fit anyone to a specific Inception character, but I could see Ivan as Ariadne (totally an architect, anyway) and Alex as the resident gorgeous, charming, and insufferably English fucker.

One-sentence prompts thread

[(Anonymous)]

Can we have one of these?
- OP replies to this comment with a mini-prompt in the subject line
- Filler writes just one sentence
Perfect for rare pairs and cracky needs.

Hama/Feizhi: Reveal

[(Anonymous)]

Awww yiss

Felix->various, 5 times

[(Anonymous)]

The 5 people Felix crushed on and the one person he fell head over heels for.

Sheba/Jenna/Piers/Felix(/Kraden???)

[(Anonymous)]

It's a fine ship they sail.
Give me domesticity or give me an orgy, I just want those in a happy commited group relationship.
On a ship.

Ivan/Flying (or Ivan/Soarwing)

[(Anonymous)]

Maybe it's the Anemos blood, but he's always wanted to fly.

Isaac/Garet - Food sex

[(Anonymous)]

In that order too. Please? Young or old versions, doesn't matter.

In honour of National Masturbation Month

[(Anonymous)]

Character of your choice, solo.
Use of psynergy as a bonus? 8D

[(Anonymous)]

The girls of GS--any girl of GS, but I'm seeing mostly Sheba hre (or maybe Karis for the lulz?)
Something with this song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbOz17LGfhU)

Crossover: The Hunger Games

[(Anonymous)]

Don't care who, don't care how graphic. Obviously, violence and gore welcome, but I'd like focus on the length of the game and how to survive it, too. Doesn't necessarily need to have romance and/or smut though that'd be FUN.

Matthew/Food

[(Anonymous)]

Okay I can't hold it in anymore. Have you even read the food descriptions in this game? It's filled with loving detail, and when you reach Tonfon it starts going into purple prose with "decadent" twice int he same city and then "TOO delicious".

So.
Matthew has a passion for food. He is a gourmet, a critic, and he loves everything.
Have him cross every city and mounr as he has to leave before tasting everything? The others' reactions? The fight when they have to make him leave Tonfon???

[(Anonymous)]

Didn't seem to get much attention in the other one, but...

Matthew decides to find out what Growth would do to the cotton and linen in Himi's clothes. She retaliates in kind.

Slight AU, perhaps, so that Himi is postpubescent.

Isaac/Jenna, shrinking

[(Anonymous)]

Something - unknown magic, a family curse, a weird side-effect of the first Psynergy vortexes, whatever - is making Jenna shrink. How does Isaac (and the rest of their friends) react to his girlfriend getting smaller?

Preferences: closer to TLA than DD. Non-instantaneous shrinking, possibly across several days. Shrinking out of clothes. No crush/vore/violence toward Mini Jenna.

anybody, amputation

[(Anonymous)]

Bit of a weird kink, I know.
Anybody (but preferably someone from the playable casts) losing a limb. I'll be happy with anything from the violence of the moment of the wound itself, to gory description of the treatment, to angsty H/C during the recovery, or even just the day-to-day dealing with the handicap years later when the character barely even thinks about it anymore. Handicapped sex with ship of your choice is fine, but so is gen. Anything, really, so long as it's done seriously.

Cruelty of the Beast (Isaac, gen, angst)

[(Anonymous)]

Tried my best to fill - not sure how well it worked and whether this was what you wanted, OP. Hope anyone who comes across this finds it satisfactory.

Warning for minor gore.

---

The blood was the worst part, the blood.

In retrospect, the shock must have blocked out the pain. That should certainly have been worse. But, as one claw crushed his torso to the ground, the warm, wet blood showering down on his face was what drove him mad, so much blood, and that thing dangling in the pink head's mouth, was that his arm-

The blue head let out a roar that sounded like approval, like laughter. He'd hear that in his nightmares for years to come.

The pink head shook the flesh hard, snapping the few hideously-stretched bonds of connective tissue, and gulped it down. In his delirious state, he swore it looked at him and grinned. Yes, it was a dragon - a reptile. It had no lips. But the way it regarded him, mouth open, serrated teeth stained with his blood and strips of his flesh still clinging wetly to the jaws -

There was a scream from behind him, and a bolt of blue Psynergy took it right in its leering muzzle; the beast stumbled back, taking the claw off his torso, and he could breathe again. But the shock was too bad for him to move. His head lolled over, seeing the red and ragged mass that extended from his left shoulder, then lolled away. His breath hitched on a sob.

He was failing them all, his mind told him dimly. This was Venus. His element. He could take this... he should get up and fight...

But there was no strength left in him - nothing but a spreading cold.

---

He didn't really know what happened next. He remembered hearing words, in bits and pieces, but that had a dreamlike quality - voices in a fog, coming from someplace very far away. The details he knew from his friends.

They defeated the Fusion Dragon. Whether their fury and horror had driven their Psynergy to new heights, or the dragon had overreached in their - its - spite, they didn't know. It had collapsed into Saturos and Menardi, who had in turn collapsed into the beacon.

(And had her mouth been red with blood, had there been meat between her teeth? Had Saturos, even dying, died smiling?)

Felix and Sheba were... gone. There had been a sudden quake, the Lighthouse ripping itself asunder before mending itself as though the sundering had never been. The three of them had managed to stay on it, but those two had not been so lucky.

Perhaps they could have done something to save them. They should have tried to do something to save them, even it was hopeless. But they were too focused on him.

He knew that part of what happened. He could not have missed it.

Ivan, screaming in panic that he was fading fast. Mia, weeping over him, her warm tears hitting his face like blood as she cried that her Psynergy wasn't enough. Garet, ashen-faced, begging Isaac to forgive him as he called fire to his hands -

And then there was blinding, burning pain, the hiss of sizzling liquid, and the stench of cooking meat.

After that, he knew nothing.

---

He wouldn't wake for days.

When he did, it was to pain in a limb that was no longer there. He remembered turning to look at it and finding only a bandaged stump; he'd stared at it dumbly, wondering how nothingness could hurt so much.

They explained what had happened in kind, quiet voices. There had been no saving his arm; Mia's Psynergy could heal wounds, but not regrow a severed limb, and the brutal derangement of the tissue that remained had kept her from salvaging it. He would have bled out shortly if Garet had not cauterized the injury, burning it away beneath the shoulder. After that, their only concern had been to stabilize him, trading Djinni between them to spread who could use healing Psynergy, doing their utmost to force his traumatized system back to a semblance of functionality. It hadn't just been the arm... the dragon's crushing weight on his torso had inflicted internal injuries, which they'd healed as best they could. Could he feel his legs? He could? Oh, praise all the gods...

He could barely hear them. Yes, Saturos and Menardi were dead.

But that girl, Sheba, was... gone, and Felix - whatever his crimes - with her. Venus was lit. And, when he shut his eyes, he saw one head of the dragon, muzzle slick with his blood, leering down at him; when his attention wandered, and the voices around him faded, he heard echoes of the other head's laughter.

He wasn't sure that they'd won.

---

In his nightmares, they didn't.

But it wasn't always him - that was the worst part. In the dreams where he had two arms, it was Garet on the ground, the red of his hair blending with the blood - Mia, her dress soaked with it - Ivan, crumpled and broken - even once Jenna -

Sometimes it was the dragon. Sometimes it was Saturos and Menardi apart, the spray of arterial blood giving Menardi's scythe and smile the same scarlet gleam, Saturos's teeth flashing as he roared with laughter -

It didn't matter. Because he could never do anything. Because whether it was an arm or a leg or something worse, it didn't matter whether he was himself on the ground or frozen with horror or screaming and running at them with his sword upraised, because it had already happened, he couldn't undo it, and he was so damned helpless -

He'd awake shaking and sobbing, and the arms that came to encircle him might be Garet's or Mia's or Ivan's or some combination of all three. He was grateful - more grateful than he could ever express to them. He was more fortunate than he had any right to be, to have them with him.

To the extent he could, he repaid them by retraining. It was hard - he had to adjust to fighting one-handed, to fighting off-balance, to using Psynergy with his hand still clamped around his sword - but they told him he managed. He could fight off common monsters, after a while. Wasn't that good enough?

When they asked him that, there was a tightness in his chest that might have been panic, or might have been an immense talon pressing down on his armor, on his ribcage, holding him down as teeth sank into his flesh and the strong muscles of one brutish neck twisted and ripped-

No.

No, nothing would ever be good enough.

---

The cold cut him, and the gusts whipped his hair into his face. His vision blurred as his eyes watered; he could barely see.

Not that it mattered, because he knew what he had to reach, with arm or Psyenergy or both. The nightmare was tightening around him, awake though he was - it was just as he had seen, even if the situation was different, his friends needed him, they were screaming for him, and he was helpless to help -

"Isaac, please!" Mia cried from below, herself only an inch from the precipice - "You've got to save Garet!"

He was trying, couldn't she see that? He was trying - one-armed or not, he was an Adept, he just needed - one of the Psynergy techniques he had learned on this journey had to work, it had to, he just needed to grip Garet with a hand-that-was-not-a-hand, a grasp far tighter than anything that could be provided by absent flesh, and -

"No, I'm afraid you won't be doing that," came a deep voice, and Isaac's head jerked to look around and over the shoulder that terminated in a stump.

His eyes should have gone to the great brute. He was the one who had spoken, after all, and twice the size of the girl by his side.

But it was that red-haired girl who was looking down at him, head tilted back, mouth half-open in that smile, that same damned smile, a bestial leer more befitting of something gargantuan and reptilian than a human face -

Ivan was speaking, but it was redundant. With a cold numbness spreading inside him that was deeper than any wind-chill, Isaac understood.

In the howling gusts around him, he heard a dragon's laughter.

[(Anonymous)]

Eoleo doesn't normally bother with sex because he's too busy looting and pillaging to keep his people alive, but then Dark Dawn happens and he's surrounded by attractive teenage strangers and they're distracting. And he doesn't know what to do about it, because after years of "kill on sight" he doesn't really know how to talk to strangers any more and it's an uncomfortable subject anyway.

Another DD protag notices, takes the lead, and tops the fuck out of him, much to Eoleo's surprise and (unexpected) delight.

Bonus #1: Multiple other DD protags notice, gangbang/orgy ensues.

Bonus #2: Psynergy used to perverted ends is always fun.

Other kinks are fine if you want, as long as they aren't messy or unhealthy.

Totally obvious anon is not totally obvious, what are you talking about?

Getting with the program NSFW

[(Anonymous)]

WELL THIS TOTALLY GOT AWAY FROM ME. I HOPE YOU ENJOY, BUT THIS IS SUPER KINKY SO IF YOU'RE NOT INTO IT OH WELL.

TAGS (SPOILERS ARE IN THE TAGS):
__________________________________

Lots of Kinks!: Multiple Partners, Dubious Consent, Armpits, Sweat, Ropes, Bondage, Biting, Minor Pain, Cum Eating, Bareback, Body Hair, Minor Objectification, M/M, Improper use of a Candle, Blindfolds, Delay Kink, Possibility of being Caught, Domination/Submission, Stereotypes being Crushed, Masturbation, Fantasizing, Harem Tendencies, Kink Discovery, Devirginizing
__________________________________

So Eoleo knows that being a pirate means he should be getting wenches.

Theoretically.

The thing is, he's never had time for anything more than his right hand... or his left, depending. And as if that wasn't embarrassing enough, then being locked up in a cage that was public did nothing to to lower his frustrations. Not that he had anything against masturbating to an audience necessarily, but he'd rather it not end with his captors deciding that they should neuter him.

And then he's rescued by some of the most attractive people he's ever met.

Okay so he'll admit it, pirates aren't that sexy. Between scurvy and venereal diseases, not to mention the fact that he'd be unable to look any of them in the eye because they all knew his family, it hadn't been worth it.

It's sadly not worth it now either, fate of the world and all that. Still, he does have eyes.

Sveta is oddly the first one he notices. Maybe it's how different she is from her brother... but she's striking is a sad, silent, capable, distant way. Learning she can read his mind makes him glad he was somewhat off-put off of all beastmen after his capture. Claws near his junk is a no.

Amiti is second, because he is apparently the type who like to look at unobtainable royalty. He wonders if Amiti is also a virgin, if his pubic hair is blue, and if he's loud when he comes.

He also wonders if Karis is green down there, but something about her personality makes it seem like too much work to try.

Reif is not his type at all, which leaves Matthew and Tyrell. From what he understand though, they're together, which is both amazing and horrible.

It's amazing because it gives him spank bank material for a long time, but it's bad because it means he won't be getting any, even after they save the world. Assuming they don't die.

Matthew is quiet. He's pretty in an understated handsome way. He's good at cooking, steering, and has eyes that Eoleo wish he'd seen first. He keeps imagining them watching him when he's jerking off--something he finds himself doing a lot these days. It would make him more awkward if he wasn't used to playing poker with his crew.

Tyrell is an annoying little shit, but he is strong. And shameless. Eoleo did not know muscular men were his type at all, always finding his eyes straying towards pretty people, people with slight builds. Tyrell has no problem unknowingly indulging his voyeurism, taking his shirt off in the sun and showing off his chest with it's perfect nipples that Eoleo can't help but picture pierced, his bulging arms, and his bright treasure trail that makes Eoleo's mouth water. He's even managed to see his dick once or twice. Thick and surrounded with orange, it drives Eoleo crazy with the thought of how it will taste... and smell. On a normal ship, bathing is not easy, and the water adepts change that only slightly when they're all concerned about monsters and healing. Eoleo is used to the smell more than the rest of them, but finds that the idea of Tyrell's sweat clinging to his balls and the crack of his ass is not unappealing, even if the shock of his own predisposition for such a thing is surprising.

Matthew never takes his clothes off, in stark contrast to Tyrell. The mystery of having one half of the equation is starting to drive Eoleo a bit crazy, and his dick a bit raw. That and he might be staring more than he should.

Still, picturing how Tyrell fucks Matthew is a solid pastime, right next to wondering if he could fuck Tyrell--after all, the strong guy fucks the weaker one--or maybe if he could get Tyrell to share Matthew? He can't picture Matthew moaning, but he does picture Matthew staring at him as he sinks onto his cock, Tyrell's cum leaking out of him. He wonders if he's bigger than Tyrell, and then he wonders what Matthew is packing, and then he wonders if either of them would even be interested in him anyway, as he's more rugged and hairy than either of them.

In short, by the time Himi joins their little brigade he's obsessed with two men and jerks off so much he's always a bit more rank than he'd like.

But not, apparently, more than Matthew.

He's just taking inventory in the bowels of the ship and is in the main as a door to a equipment closet opens. Matthew steps out, sees him, nods, business as usual, except Eoleo is staring at the rope in his hand. Then Eoleo looks up, past Matthew, right as the door closes.

Tyrell is tied up, hanging from the ceiling, rock hard, blindfolded, and seems to have a wax candle plugging his butt--one that is lit.

The door closes and Eoleo goes suddenly rock hard. His mind focuses on the thought that Tyrell... Tyrell might be the one taking it. Getting fucked. Tyrell who is physically powerful, who wouldn't let someone... dominate him.

Would he?

The idea is a bit world shattering, and a lot arousing, and he can not look at Matthew right now.

The boat rocks. He has half a second to curse Amiti for not supervising Himi learning to steer before he's thrown forward, bracing himself against the door, Matthew wedged uncomfortably close and his face practically buried in his underarm hair.

Eoleo meets Matthews eyes and freezes.

Matthew inhales, his eyes boring into Eoleo, pupils widening, his dick--now against Eoleo's thigh--pulses. Matthew lets a breath out of his mouth, the exhalation making Eoleo shiver, and inhales again, through his nose. Matthews dick pulses again and Eoleo find his own cock can, in fact, get harder.

Before he has time to contemplate anything else he finds himself shoved back, psynergy knocking him to his knees and then suddenly winding rope around his wrists, pinning them behind his back.

Open mouthed, he doesn't resist when Matthew drags him by his hair close enough to rub his clothed dick over his face.

"This psynergy is called Lash." Matthew says, something in his tone commanding. Eoleo looks up. Matthew stares down at him, lust and something darker in his eyes. "If you want to, I'm sure you can burn your way out of it." He grips Eoleo's hair and tugs him back. "Close your mouth." Eoleo does without thinking. Matthew smirks.

It's such a dark expression that Eoleo finds himself both shocked and aroused. To think that Matthew-

"Burn your clothes."

"What?"

Matthew slaps him. Hard. Eoleo should not be aroused by that.

"No talking unless I say so. Tyrell may have earplugs in, but if we do this it will be with whimpers as the only thing coming out of your mouth. Understood?"

Eoleo opens his mouth, then rethinks and shuts it, nodding instead. "Good, maybe next time I'll let you watch me fuck Tyrell if you're good. I know you'd like that, the way you watch us." Eoleo actually blushes at this. Matthew chuckles, then his expression turns hard. "Burn your clothes. I won't tell you again."

The clothes are not his usual armor, just some sleep clothes. Loosing this pair will be fine, except he will having nothing to wear back to his cabin. Matthew could leave him here naked if he wanted. Eoleo knows it's a way for Matthew to be in control. He doesn't know why, but the idea sends fire racing across his nerves. He concentrates and lets that fire out. Controlling it so it doesn't burn his hair or the ropes is tricky, but in the end he is on his knees, hard cock tick and dripping, completely vulnerably naked, in front of Matthew.

"Good," Matthew says, voice thick as he stares at Eoleo's bare body. "Stand up."

Eoleo does, and the rope moves, snaking it's way around his body and maneuvering him into--well--if Eoleo wasn't so hard he'd be pretty embarrassed. His hands and held up above his head, the rope latching onto a ceiling beam--something that makes Eoleo wonder how often Matthew comes down here--his body is crisscrossed with the rope in a diamond pattern that definitely emphasizes his large dick and pecs. Matthew gets more rope from somewhere and then his legs are being spread apart, feet still on the ground, so he's leaning back. His dick is on display, as are his balls. The first rope digs into his crack, rubbing over his hole, and he does whimper, his dick twitching. Matthew moves behind him, and the second and third ropes are suddenly pulling the first rope apart to frame his ass.

Matthew walks around him, his gaze defiling, before smiling. "Be right back. Don't. Move."

He goes into the closet, and Eoleo admits that having Tyrell see him like this is not unappealing but not what he wants. Not that he knows exactly what he does want. He has the feeling like he's in over his head.

And then he hears what can only be Tyrell moaning. It's loud. If he's this loud all the time, no wonder they'd do it down here. Or--and Eoleo feels himself get hotter at the ides--is he being loud because Matthew told him to be? For Eoleo? He has to refocus his eyes and is met with the sight of his dick literally dripping wet. The rope feels way too good and yet not enough and Eoleo clenches his ass, frustrated and dizzy, as Tyrell orgasms. Tyrell sounds like he's sobbing and Eoleo find his teeth clenched around a whine, fighting coming himself.

He does not want this to end so soon.

Matthew comes out without Tyrell, carrying a cloth. He looks Eoleo up and down, and Eoleo knows he's panting like he's in heat, his cock wetter that ever, and he's flushed too. Matthew walks over to him.

"Open your mouth." Eoleo realizes he's going to be gagged. Swallowing, he does as ordered, eyes widening when he sees the fabric.

It's a loin cloth and he can tell from the sweat marks that it's well used. It's also wet with Tyrell's load, which is placed in Eoleo's mouth. The bitter salty flavor is almost too much, and he fights his balls drawing up. Matthew manages to tie it so that part of it is covering his nose.

Eoleo inhales.

Eoleo shakes.

Tyrell must have worn this a lot without washing it to become this rank. Eoleo can't help but wonder if he was ordered to, by Matthew, thinking of how Matthew reacted to his own scent. To be honest, Eoleo can smell why.

It's rank, it's nasty, and it's Tyrell. He moans, eyes closed, hunching so his dick fucks the air.

Next thing he knows his legs are the thing in the air. He opens his eyes in alarm to find himself spread out, ass on display, pits on display, everything on display for Matthew.

And then, right as he thinks Matthew is going to do... SOMTEHING, Matthew doesn't. Instead, Matthew takes off Eoleo's Boots. His. Boots.

His feet aren't gross or anything, and he knows some guys are into that, but Matthew doesn't seems to be, he just seems to want him naked.

Matthew drops the second boot and then drops to his knees, staring up at Eoleo with challenge in his gaze.

Then he surges forward and buries his face in Eoleo's ass.

It's too much. Eoleo barely has time to think 'does he do this to tyrell?' before Tyrell's scent, the taste of his cum, the tensions of being bound, the feel of Matthews tongue, and the sudden arousing pain of his nipples being suddenly twisted--and then he's coming.

He passes out groaning and when he come back from seeing stars Matthew is naked, grinning at him, and leaning over to lick some of Eoleo's cum up. "I'm going to fuck you now." He says, in that matter-of-fact way he has, edged with something Eoleo thinks of as Conquer.

He didn't use oil, or his fingers, and although he feels Huge inside Eoleo knows he isn't. He also goes slow. It hurts, but by the time he's in all the way and using a cure, Eoleo is hard again.

Matthew leans over and bites a nipple and Eoleo thinks he just might like pain a lot more that he thought.

It's rough, and sweaty, and Matthew licks Eoleo's armpit in a way that should not feel as good as it does. Eoleo is never bathing again is all he has to do to get bent over like a wench is reach up and stretch when he's near Matthew.

Matthew bites and sucks his chest, leaving marks across his pecs to go with rope burn, and sniffs his pits. Whatever he's doing with his dick is nailing something inside of Eoleo head on and Eoleo realizes he moaning like he's a cheap whore.

Matthew growls, "Mine," and stares him in the eyes while driving his cock into him in such a way that Eoleo feels like he's somehow more naked then he is.

Matthew grins then, reaches up and pulls the gag down from his nose all while still fucking him, and then he reaches past--

Matthew's armpit stinks. It smells rank and heavy, and Eoleo arches up to bury his nose in it. And then Eoleo feels his ass clech around Matthew and he cums.

He feels Matthew's breath on his arm as Matthew's hips stutter into his, and then the heat and the orgasm get to him and he's dragged under.

A week later he find himself and Tyrell tied up again. This time to each other.

flint/fever

[(Anonymous)]

fever's a tsundere

Dark Dawn; a drabble

[(Anonymous)]

"Again?! You're always doing this! Taking off with some dumb teenage Adepts to go on a quest, and dragging me along! You moron!"

"Oh come on, you old wet blanket, you!" Flint chuckled, knowing the fiery Mars Djinni far too well to be taken in by its aggressive behavior. "It'll be fun! ... And would you rather I didn't invite you?"

Fever flushed with heat and irritation. "I... uh... well, look, I have to keep you out of danger, don't I? It’s not going to be fun, and I’m not going to enjoy it just because you’re there! ... idiot."