Prompts. Mostly just writing stuff. A little nsfw might appear. Currently obsessed with Warhammer 30k. I also take requests so don`t be shy, ask something. English isn`t my first language but I`m trying. pfp: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/6324
Hi, I am brokenback and I do things. You can call me bb, beebee or Zen since well that's how my name is pronounced in English. Or whatever you want, actually I don't really care. I also collect funny versions of my nickname, so if you come up with one please share.
The things:
Fanfiction in English: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenback/works or a mirror site for those where AO3 is blocked: https://archiveofourown.gay/users/brokenback/works
Some fanfiction in Russian: look up.
Fanfiction in Russian: https://ficbook.net/authors/2953643
My telegram channel in Russian: https://t.me/brokenbackstalo
I write smut and excessively complicated thought-enducing dialogue-heavy stories. Choose your fighter I guess, but don't worry most of them end with what I hope is some nice smut.
Mostly the things are related to Warhammer. I prefer to keep my blog mostly clean from reblogs, trying to accomodate as much of nice content that I like and also to not mess up already complicated navigation.
This blog is not about me, it's for you. I write fics for people to read and be happier. I make silly memes because making people smile is a good thing to do.
A bit more under the cut for those who want to know.
Please, don't tag me or try to communicate about anything not related to Warhammer or linguistics. I live in Russia and I have enough of difficult social-problem discussions in real life. I'm only here to escape from the awful things in the world and to create somewhat safe space for others as well.
Sometimes I might rant about linguistics or vent. Apologies in advance, I just have moments when I need attention and sympathy or someone to talk to. Posts that in my opinion do not directly include Warhammer or the content I make or accumulate here are tagged #bb_talks
I like to engage in silly talks with my muties. Apologies in advance if I sound rude, I still struggle with correctly translating my thoughts. Please know that if I wanted to say something bad I would've said it directly. If I accidentially hurt someone's feelings, you can dm me or just block me I guess, it's okay to keep your space clean.
Please let's just be normal and simple here, I don't have the energy to manage shit when I can literally be locked up because this blog of mine simply exists.
Кто на русском говорит можете со мной на русском болтать, комменты там писать или спрашивать чёт, если хотите, но лучше залетайте в тг-шку, там это тупо проще отследить.
(maybe Magnus kind of soothes the thouts of Pertys brain Perty cannot comprehend like the maelstrom but it's more subconscious coming from Magnus' part)
I'm pretty sure that Perturabo once heard Calliphone not even complain but sorrowfully note that she wished she could see the sun rising behind the mountains through her window but sadly when the sun was high enough to be seen there wasn't that beautiful red-pinkish line because, again, the mountains.
And Perturabo demolished the mountain because of it.
So Calliphone could wake up and see a nice sunrise when it wasn't cloudy which was rather rare from what I can judge about Olympia's climate.
And he was petulant about it. Never even said it out loud.
ㅤA SMUT WRITER'S RESOURCE — smut vocabulary, ideas per sex act, kinks list, etc.
ㅤI originally made this to be a resource for myself whenever I felt out of practice writing smut, but I thought it might be helpful for other writers who may be new to writing smut/feeling uninspired/translating from another language.
ㅤSometimes I've felt awkward or have cringed about writing smut (especially when I was new to it) but then I realized that sex is art; in all its nasty, sexy, heavenly, gross, glory — sex is art and a beautiful part of life. So after that I just let myself write freely without feeling ashamed.
ㅤWith that out of the way, I present to you my fundamental list of smut writing essentials. Hope it helps you even if it's just to find a word you're looking for.
ACTS — breast play, dry humping, heavy petting, hickey-giving, grinding, lap dance, body worship, massaging, kissing/make-out, sexting, reading smut, mutual masturbation, bathing/showering together
VISUALS — Saliva/(pre)cum rolling down chin/neck, jerking what can't fit, making out with... (cockhead, shaft, balls, clit, etc.), cheek bulging with cock, hollowing out cheeks while sucking harder, rolling eyes back in ecstasy, tasting them, pulling in for a dirty kiss afterwards, juices smeared across cheek, lips glistening with slick
DEEPTHROATING — watery/glossy/dewy eyes, choked up, throat constricting, throating the length, tip prodding the back of the throat, choking, gagging, spluttering, coughing, gasping for air, using hair as a handle to control how much is taken, headrush when coming off for air, being held down on it, feeling bulge in throat
CUNNILINGUS — buttery soft tongue sweeping circles, flicking, nipping and kissing at clit, sinking inside, wriggling around, feasting on pussy, thumbing clit while tongue-fucking, curling against sweet spot, lapping at slit/folds, long strokes, squirting on their face
VISUALS — wetting palm/slicking fingers with juices, stroking at g-spot with fingertip, stroking his length, grazing fingertips down, eye contact as they ruin you with their handiwork
FINGERING — warming up with teasing, working at the clit simultaneously, using their whole arm, tensing their biceps the more they exert pressure, switching up techniques (stroking back and forth, sweeping/massaging circles, 'come hither'), curling fingers inside, sucking/tasting sweet slick off fingers
JERKING — cock hanging heavy or drooping from its weight, jumping in anticipation to be touched, throbbing hot in palm of hand, wielding at the base, brisk/quick or languid/slow strokes, balls jiggling each time wrist meets the base
VISUALS — the skin of the base of a cock wrinkling up when bottoming out, getting balls deep, skin sticking/slapping against skin, sweat dripping down, balls tightening up and muscles flexing (when a cock is about to cum), abs flexing, leaky cockheads and sticky precum oozing, splitting open hole on a big cock and watching it stretch into a wide O shape to accommodate its girth, holes twitching and spasming like they're aching to be touched or are overstimulated or have just orgasmed, heavy-hitting thrusts or short, quick strokes and which spots the tip is rubbing against, giving it to you/taking it/letting you have it, blissing out/pulling a lewd face/feeling high off an orgasm and rolling your eyes back, hissing through gritted teeth when it feels too good, the way your ankle wobbles over a shoulder in certain positions while getting pounded into, wet sounds getting sloppier/getting wetter and sweatier the longer it goes on, being splayed/trapped underneath them, letting you feel the stretch
SEX TYPES — hate sex, car sex, gentle/rough sex, phone/cybersex, shower sex, (un)protected sex
POSITIONS — mating press, doggystyle, spooning, cowgirl (riding), prone bone, holding ankles, standing, against wall, standing in front of mirror, pushups on top of you, side split, etc.
DIALOGUE IDEAS — behave, do as i say, watch that attitude of yours, let me guide you, watch me fuck you, don't take your eyes off me or I'll stop, use your words, on your knees, open wide, you love it don't you? filthy slut, don't hide your face, let it all out on me, fuck me like you mean it, all for me?, dirty mind you've got there, need me to take care of you?, just like that, you take it so well, then come and get it, you like that huh?, i know you're into it, cum with me, say my name, who's fucking you this good?, can't resist you, irresistible little slut, take it, spread your legs for me, try a little harder for me
SWEET PET NAMES — baby, bambi, angel, darling, bunny, doll, babydoll, sweetheart, butterfly, good girl/boy, little Aphrodite, goddess, baby girl/boy
VULGAR PET NAMES — (nasty, dirty) slut, whore, bitch, toy
VISUALS — ropes of cum, trickling down the shaft to the balls, balls tightening/tensing during release, squirting, creaming/gushing all over cock/hands/toy/etc., shuddering or caving into yourself, buildup to an orgasm being stronger or weaker, stopping or not stopping until their orgasm is over, creampie dribbling out hole
ORGASM TYPES — clitoral, vaginal, cervical, blended, hands-free, cumshot/facial, in panties, etc.
VOCABULARY — let me have you, can we...?, is it alright?, unless you don't want to, do you like it?, go faster/slower, let's take a break, are you okay (in the middle or after an act), can you take it?, is your jaw not sore like this?
AFTERCARE IDEAS — getting cleaned up together (bath, shower), carrying you, pillow talk, cuddling, having food, giving water, massaging numb/sore/tired parts, soothing bite/hit marks, brushing hair out of face, kissing forehead, praising for taking it so well, helping put clothes back on, making jokes, petting hair, telling you how much they love you, confessing their feelings
Perturabo is literally Ancient Greece but with industrial technology!:❌
Perturabo is an English man from 1880s who’s entire personality is to LARP the shit out of ancient Greece but he is so stupid and very bad at his larp that he puts industrial themes in his ancient Greece larp and guilliman a Greek person literally hates how larpish he is the he called him LARP LARP sahur:✅
Yes absolutely correct! But you see Guilliman is Roman, and the Romans where famous for also LARPING the Greeks!
So Guilliman gets pissed off cuz Perturabo is putting industrial themes in his Greek LARP different from him that only put historically accurate stuff in his LARP
You can see them both arguing over this from miles away
What brought you to Warhammer and how did you find your way into the fandom?
A citizen of Saint-Petersburg took advantage of a drunk woman and started explaining Warhammer lore to her.
That said citizen is my best friend. He's currently the second-in-command in my telegram channel about Warhammer. He made this picture out of an actual news website and posted it there when asked the same question. I think it's pretty self-explanatory lol.
Oh shitfuck a post I made about one of my abandoned fics (I just got too much going on irl so I had neither time nor inspiration) suddenly got popular among my muties (8 likes) and now I have to come back to the fic and actually write it oh shitfuck oh fuckshitdamn ooooh
Contents: shower scene, past child prostitution, inexperience/hesitancy, hugs, no kissing on mouth!, size difference, neural port play, frotting, premature ejaculation (?), sensual blowjob, smiles :)
Here's to the core story
And here's to the three endings:
Forrix declines
Forrix accepts (Bad Ending)
Forrix accepts (Good Ending) <- you are here
_________________________________________
He was in control. Falk's posture did not portray an ounce of betrayal, and while he could not describe why, he could sense the complete lack of malicious intent. There might be a ploy still, not by Falk but by more insidious 'brothers' blinded by pride of themselves over the good of the Legion.
"And one told you to act this way, Falk?" His voice, softer than usual portrayed a chance, no matter how small that Falk may agree to this. "You're the only one who knows of this, my Lord. I intend to keep it that way."
Forrix did look around for good measure and found nothing suspicious about the halls, no loudhailers, nothing. "Close." Various clicks could be heard thereafter; Falk could only assume that he'd just activated the lock down mechanism only top staff and higher Warsmith could access. "The Grand Battalions 1 through 5 will be redirected to the nearest shower from here." Forrix swallowed hard, for Falk's large statue still intimidated the part in his hindbrain that just won't stop churning false distress signals. He'll have to get used to even being in such proximity with someone who wasn't one of the most powerful psykers around.
Falk was just a large body. A swirl of competency that may bring him very far one day. Forrix had gored and torn to shreds countless beings that were several times that of Falk with the adamantine blades of his power claw. So why was this one part of his mind trying to reject the chance of his life?
This was when Falk's arms, equally as mighty as Forrix' found their way around his superiors highly scarred mid back and his neck, tense even for an Iron Warrior. "As much as considering each recompense of our action is in our Legion's advantage..." Falk pulled on Forrix, enough for a suggestion of a hug, not enough to lock him in his arms. Forrix was in control.
"... I feel that this requires a lot more intuition. Partially exchanging our wills to each other." "Ground rules, Falk." interrupted Forrix, trying his best to not ease into Falk's thumb circling a neural port that happened to sit nearby. "No penetration. Just for this, I will treat you as an equal to myself. This way, no one will bear the disgrace and all of it's consequences should any rumors spread." The towering Iron Warrior only blinked at Forrix' declaration. Oh, he did want to tell the First Captain that his mere hands, maybe even his unarmed presence would likely have been enough to ease the yearning. That Falk would've gone by most of Forrix' wishes anyway because his primary aim was his former mentor's ease.
And so, Falk closed in on Forrix, lightly pressing his head on the taller one's chest and leaning back just a little to feel more of his bulk against his. "Understood. You will tell me to stop should you need to." Forrix didn't say, but his arms couldn't stay like this. They needed to feel him too. They shifted so they could hold each other in equal measure, small shudders going through both of them when a certain warmth washed over them that had nothing in common with the heat flushing their cocks. Hands started roaming all round their increasingly damp backs, Forrix' breath tickling the trail of chest hair Falk allowed himself to grow. Perhaps this was the actual reason why Forrix agreed after all - the care in getting another one off, considering all parties accepted. If he stayed within this feeling however, he would start to have himself swallowed by memories of him having done the same to the boys he had to manage in his childhood. He could not allow that to happen, let alone having Falk take up his role completely. The objective was to make Falk climax and then never talk about it again. And so he let go, his hand tipping it's way to Falk's hip bone.
"I won't keep you waiting, Falk." Quickly, he spat into his hand, quickly bringing it to the other Iron Warriors impressive girth. "Do you like it?" Forrix didn't answer to this open-ended question, giving slow pumps to the stem of his shaft while swallowing. "Unusual to be the smaller one." admitted Forrix, feeling his foreskin make way for his flushing tip and rising length. Falk chuckled a little, having half expected a jab at him being so nonchalant, daring and perhaps stupid because of his massive cock. "You are the wiser of us, so it's only logical for you to look more sophisticated." That brought Forrix a smirk he could not surpress. "At least you did not call me delicate. That would've been a grave mistake."
"Even inscenuating that would be an insult to you, First Captain." Falk leaned both over for a kiss with him looming over, only for Forrix' amusement to halt to a close, body rigid. Nothing needed to be said here, for Falk just discovered one of the things to avoid: towering over." I'll kneel for you." said the lower ranked Warsmith, removing Forrix' hand from his cock to do so. "After all, this is worthless if I merely use you to calm my erection." Besides, even though parts of him, those ready for combat at any time tried to persuade him that he was opening himself to fire, but there was none.
Forrix did give a dissatisfied grunt, but managed to catch himself in the present again. At first he wished to dismiss Falk because of the non zero percent chance that kneeling in front of him was an affront. But sarcasm he found none and this may have been scarier. For all the technicalities of stimulating the human body he compartmentalized every second something touches even his power armor, he remembered how terrible he was at kissing, how even the thought of it made him tense. He could not break this experience down into components that couldn't hurt him, for it was supposed to be a gesture of great intimacy. In other words, he would've been a terrible kisser. Assuming Falk had no skill to speak of either, Forrix came to a compromise both could accept. " Anything but my lips." Forrix took a few large breaths, running his sight across Falk's questioning steel blue eyes, his thighs and muscular stomach flexing to keep him kneeled, how the dark brand mark, proud sign of belonging to the Iron Fleet twisted with each movement of his pale skin, how good he looked for the first Captain...
"Come here, then." Before Falk could add the honorific he forgot in the relief of his superior having caught himself from despair, Forrix' hand already was about to stroke his length again, pressed himself against Falk's thigh and breathed onto his neck. The dampness of his skin mostly washed his own scent away, but Forrix still could decipher the countless hours of training, strategizing and drilling his Battalion to greatness. "Do not worry about that."
An odd sense of pride swelled up when he began to mouth and run his remaining hand onto Falk's crease of mighty neck muscle and powerful windpipe. This promising scout he'd been drilling into a fine line Astartes, only for him to rise nearly as metereoically as Forrix once did was now a Warsmith. The First Captain didn't know why, but he needed Falk to know that he found his development beyond acceptable. Falk's breathing indeed became labored, huffing whenever Forrix left a mark near the next neural port. A sensitivity discovered, although it should have been obvious that the added nerve bundles optimized for making their power armor feel like a second skin would have had this effect, even when currently closed. Oh, how he would exploit that.
As time went on, Forrix began using Falk's thigh as his current seat, grinding his and Falk's cocks together as best as he could while burying himself in the crease of the other's curly pecs. He had the giant leaking and he had the giant break his heavy breathing to moan in a higher voice than would be expected. The flurry of kisses his superior graced him with was satisfying a mere percentage of the yearning he had for the intimacy denied since his commitment to become an Iron Warrior. But it was satisfaction nonetheless. Forrix was periodically circling each neural port he could get his roughened hands upon, grinding harder whenever he felt up the port's plasteel walls. But though Falk seemed to be somewhere in between taking great attention to his doing and being helplessly blissed out, he just would not cum. The kisses became more hickeys and bitemarks and the relative gentleness of his fingers was replaced by an urgency that did not hurt him. "You better... cum already, Falk. Or am I not good enough for you now-" Forrix' grunts almost instantly phased into a mixture of a whimper and a feral growl as the tension inside him snapped and he shot rope after rope all over. Falk just had to dig one finger deep into his neck neural port, stirring the most sensitive augmented bundles of nerves into almost an overload of what Forrix had felt.
How interesting, thought Falk, wishing he'd been able to continue just a bit longer, but overall, he did see the results he wanted. Forrix' eternal frown had disappeared almost completely, his eyes seemed relaxed and his tense muscles on the neck seemed to twitch wildly before calming. This was the closest thing to bliss Falk could've hoped for in the First Captain. This face would've been enough for him to easily, albeit slowly get to his own climax.
"This wasn't... necessary..." panted Forrix while attempting to weigh down Falk which of course did not work in the way he wanted. And so, he stood, a string of cum connecting Falk's thigh to his tip and did the unthinkable - not only kneeling down, but sitting down on his lower legs. Right in front of Falk's aching length, looming somewhere in between rising and hanging from the sheer weight of it's flushed state. Forrix' hand could barely grasp it's girth, opting to... start to lick the underside of Falk's cock whilst holding it's weight from the base. Falk gasped as his superior attempted to get into a rhythm of stroking and mouthing on his cock. There was just so much space to work with, sucking greedily on the undersides meaty bulge, tracing a finger alongside the beautiful veins on his cock, tasting just some of the precum that finally started leaking out... Little did Forrix wish to realize that what he saw as finishing their mutual masturbation was actually him enjoying himself in the challenge that was Falk's hard to reach peak. Oh, Forrix was giving it his all here and Falk saw it in the determination in the First Captain's diluted eyes, felt it in having his balls handled with unrivaled care and attention by one hand, stem of his cock stroked in a tighter and tighter grip by the other. "This... ah... ain't necessary either, Chaplain..." Instead of him stopping and reminding Falk of his rank, Forrix gently let his lips, surprisingly soft and flushing red rest on its matching, leaking tip. And then the First Captain smiled.
"Action and consequence, Falk." Forrix couldn't stop smiling whenever he gazed across his larger counterpart's heaving chest into the gaze he never thought he wanted to see. Falk was completely under his mercy, he made him into such a leaking mess. And yet Falk wouldn't budge, wouldn't even push the eagerly giving superiors head to get himself off faster. Falk wanted this, truly, the salt couldn't obfuscate the taste of gratitude Forrix let simmer on the tip of his tongue.
The oversized young blood should leak out even more of this feeling, mused Forrix when he began sucking Falk's cock for real. He was truly happy with being in a position that would otherwise be seen as inherently submissive; the sheer girth he had to work through only adding to the image others would have of him. But Falk wanted this, and he wouldn't be enough of a fool to not obfuscate that they ever shared an evening section as homeronikoi. This wasn't submission to Falk, in anything, Falk had submitted to Forrix' touch a long time ago.
Finally, finally the First Captain felt in control of what could've took a left turn instantly. And he would reward his newly appointed Warsmith greatly for his consideration, courage and awareness of the situation.
It felt good to please someone when he did it out his own free will, after all.
_________________________________________
I'm happy. Are you happy? I'm happy.
That's the music in my head rn (made my own Sonic CD hahahahaha lol
How am I supposed to describe this to my English speaking audience? There's a nice saying in Russian, or actually two versions of it that I use to describe my hobbies. The first one "И шнец, и жрец, и на дуде игрец" and the second one is "И поешь, и пляшешь, и хуем машешь". Basically the translation would be "you sing, you dance and you also wave your cock" bearing the meaning that the person is doing everything they can in relation to hobbies.
Is there a nice saying to use instead in English? I'm really invested in linguistics on a hobby level (sorry) but I can't think of any good phrases. I want to put something in my pinned post, but just saying that I write fanfiction, draw arts, make collages, knit, sew, code, etc seems a bit too simple. I'm also a Finance major in addition to that lol.
The power of free will is underestimated guys, do shit! And please help me to find the nice saying, preferably with some swear words included.
Just for you more funny sayings in Russian with direct translation and the meaning.
"Дурной пизде дурно везде" — a stupid cunt would end up stupid in every situation — for a person who IS the reason of their or miserable state.
"У тебя дела как в Дании — один ебет, два в ожидании" — You're doing it like they do it in Denmark: one is fucking, two are in line — everything is bad and it's going to get worse.
"Опоздавшему поросенку сиська возле жопы" — the little pig that is late ends up with a nipple close to the ass — if you're late don't complain that you get worse stuff.
"Че ты мне хуй в уши вкручиваешь?" — Stop wrenching a cock into my ear — stop lying to me.
"Кому-то лимонов ящик, кому-то от хуя хрящик" — someone gets a box of lemons, someone get a cock cartilage — it is what it is or sometimes bad things just happen.
And these are just from the top of my head, there are plenty of others, and there's pretty much no way to translate them anyhow. Which is sad because for Russian speakers this shit sounds wonderful.
Okay allow me to rant a little over here. I know you're my mutie so you must've seen the post where I complained that I lack colourful phrases in English since there's so much in Russian. And I have a bag of more linguistic fanfacts!
So, I've seen a post on tumblr and then watched somewhat of a documentary that told about the difference in colour perception based on the first language of oneself. And here you can see a clear example of this.
In Russian we don't just have blue, we have light sky blue (goluboi) and dark ocean blue (sinyi). Other languages have it as well, but I don't remember many examples.
I don't know whom to tag but if you want to join then don't forget to tell us a funfact about how your language group or you personally perceive colours!
...also I added salad colour here because I don't think I can call that neon-sandy-greenish thing anything else??? Juicy cabbage colour??? Salad aura??? Whatever it's neither yellow nor green.
I forgot the neural ports AGAIN I CAN'T ANYMORE QWQ
MMM Toramino is here.
This was supposed to be me practicing his face cause I wanted to draw him in this:
Buuuuut the sketch became it's own little 'light study' (it's not a study damn it!! This sounds like I'm a professional. Ah shoot now I remember I've been drawing on the regular for 8 years, can't rlly call myself a beginner anymore huh)
Drawing his body was fun! Rendering with more than just a flat one layer shadow... not so much I wish to peel my eyes out at that. But I already shaded his robe extensively n simple shading skin + highly rendered clothing looks so goddamn weird.
Skin looks greyish cause this was supposed to be just greyscale. And he's not stocky enough. And I suck at drawing veins. And-
here's the process (what I actually wanted to blow out in here but well the frustration bug bit me) :
What are the words? Uuuuuh ask someone else
Byyye!
Tagging those who liked my wip and the usual suspects:
NORMALIZE SHARING ALL THE ART MADE OF NOT-SO-POPULAR CHARACTERS!!!
Love his face. What a bitch. And why doesn't anyone pay attention to the fact that he's a BLONDIE?! The one and only blondie in the legion of charcoal curly greek poor little meow meows.
...I also have a hc that all blondies besides Toramino are automatically considered halfbreeds after the Heresy since it's so rare to get blonde hair from the original IW geneseed.
...honsou is half-head blondie half-head black hair.
Contents: shower scene, abuse of power, verbal and physical abuse, size difference, past child prostitution, high impact play, fisting, spit as lube, overstim, face fucking (2x), sadism (?), mindbreak
Warnings: consent into dubcon. If you're sensitive towards graphic descriptions of sexual violence, please skip this one. Otherwise, kinktomato.
Here's to the core story
And here's to the three endings:
Forrix declines
Forrix accepts (bad ending) <- you are here
Forrix accepts (good ending)
_________________________________________
He was in control. Of course he was, or else Falk would've tried to jump him with his bare strength. He knew his place. No, he didn't know his place enough, thought a part of Forrix that only appeared in situations where he unfortunately did have an erection. This hunger for absolute, untempered control. It was one thing to drag still living nobles out of their very penetrable hides and getting his sick and twisted fill on them. Perhaps he may do this with Falk, but instead of pushing his arousal down in favor for bloodlust...He clicked his tongue, reaching up to his shoulder with one hand clawing at Falk.
"Bold to ask me." He saw this mountain halt his gaze for a bit, as if he woke from a dream he just had. Good. Falk should fear him for what he was going to do with him. "It is, First Captain. Shall I leave you be or-" "Kydomor, just for this time. I'll see whether you're good enough for this. Know though that I will not stop, Barban. Not until you cannot even beg for release anymore." Falk smiled as Forrix' gaze became cold and focused like glacier ice. "That's what I hoped for." He liked the determination behind the First Captain's glare, although just a small part of him felt like a sinking feeling. No, surely Forrix would-
"Shower. Quickly." spat Forrix, rinsing the weeks-long filth off his hair. The heavy stench of musk and dried sweat made way for a minty aroma contained in the warrior's rationed soaps. And minutes went by without the two Iron Warriors ever exchanging a word, for none indicated the desire to talk about this, but Falk could feel Forrix scanning his whole body from head to toe. He hoped him to find the sort of sensitive spots he would've never been able to see by himself.
Forrix meanwhile held back a surge of emotions he never thought he'd be able to reenact oh so closely. Rage of events where it's culprits were likely dead for decades, shame of his own exploited weakness back then and this hunger to quench them all in breaking Falk down. If he did release them now, he would've given off a cruel laughter, both at Falk and at himself. But he waited. After all, he was in control of this situation and not even his unfathomable hatred will hold him from at least appearing non aggressive.
"Done." Forrix heard wet footsteps approaching him while he was still trying to rinse off the suds off his not quite ungreased hair. Now's his chance to strike. He let the shower head fall before Falk could ever touch him, uncaring on whether the hair shampoo would get in his eye or not and grabbed both of the larger Astartes wrists.
"Get your disgusting hands away from me." Falk did raise an eyebrow, attempting to yank himself off - unfortunately Forrix was a good twenty years more experienced in this trans human body than the barely venerated Falk, and even if he weren't, there were several reasons why the smaller Astartes skyrocketed to the position of First Captain.
"Use your hands on me, and this will end, and you will be but assigned to a destroyer unit once more, Barban." snarled Forrix, breathing heavily as if he was to prepare for what he'd do to Falk. He held the more and more obvious appearing glare intact, yanking one of Falk's hands right to the inferior's massive cock. "No matter what I do, you will keep stroking your grotesque cock. Now get on your knees, Barban."
"K-k-y-" The surprise of Falk's was one he was well accustomed to hear from his own mouth, when Forrix let go of his wrists and kicked his legs away with full force. Of course Falk wasn't groaning, why would an Iron Warrior groan at something as banal as tripping on something, but the sinking feeling did become stronger, mending with his own confusion at how Forrix even took his request.
"Can't even say my name without stuttering? That's unbecoming of a Warsmith."
The clear taunt in Forrix' aggregated voice was probably the worst part of this whole ordeal. When did Falk do the wrong thing? Perhaps he was too forward, should've led up to his request far more gently.
"It's... unusual for me to call any by their first names..." He managed to look up at the older Astartes, now towering over him and saw barely any of the calm and rationale Forrix exuded even in the most tense situations. Of course Forrix knew that it would be hard to hear his first name off of anyone, let alone someone below his unrivaled rank. And that was exactly the point.
"I'll have to teach you then. And keep stroking while I do it." Forrix took a deep breath, the rationale in his mind screaming to stop, that this form of release was pointless and that his conscience would eat him alive later. However, he was an Iron Warrior. And this other Iron Warrior dared to think that he had a chance in laying with him. He dared to give Forrix the closest thing to revenge the First Captain will ever get.
With the open palm of his hand, Forrix struck Falk's bearded cheek over and over again. Whenever Falk did try to say something and stopped pumping his waning erection, he'd simply kick the taller Astartes just above it to remind him.
"Ky-do-mor."
"K-ky..."
Forrix did not stop until the imprints of his powerful hand started to mesh together in a deep shade of red, his lower stomach adorned with a purple mark from how hard he had kicked Falk. And he was still supposed to stroke his cock to this...
This felt wrong. This definitely felt wrong, thought Falk to himself. He wanted to see his former chaplain at ease for once, in hopes that while Falk would fulfill his unaugmented yearning, perhaps Forrix may get something out of this as well. But it didn't show.
"Kydo....Kydomor...." Forrix smirked. He did get something out of this after all, rejoiced Falk, even if his dignity and pride was being trampled with. His cheek burned like battery acid was poured over it, but it wasn't from the pain. If he could make Forrix ease just a little...
Forrix' glare darkened, his thumb on one of Falk's windpipes. "Pathetic. Make yourself useful. No hands though."
He proceeded to spit right on Falk's lips, who attempted to wipe it away with his hand, only for Forrix to grab his wrist once again. His grip started to really hurt something in Falk's nervous system he could not describe - as if he wanted to retreat. But he wouldn't. He was an Iron Warrior, he's endured and broken through situations his cousins couldn't even wrap their nightmares around. He would have Forrix at ease. He must do it.
The suggestion was clear from him kneeling - take Forrix in his mouth.
And so he did, or at least, tried to. Licking stripes on the back of Forrix' cock, he looked up to see a mighty hand slowly reach at the back of his head. Grab. Pull. Shove. There was no preparation, no warning and no sign that Forrix would shove his entire length into Falk's virgin throat. If Astartes had a gag reflex still, Falk would've puked acid, but it's sheer girth bullying his vagus nerve still elicited the feeling as if he wouldn't be able to breathe soon.
"Good for nothing but this, whelp." Forrix stare didn't warm and seemed to have lost even more of it's liveliness. "I'll impregnate this very lesson into your skull."
Falk whimpered onto the might of Forrix' cock gagging the entrance to his throat, the tip deliberately pressed on the nerve on it's back. And this was how Forrix would first see himself at the giving end of the matter, feeding the back of Falk's poor throat with signals of pain and discomfort. He looked disgusting, thought the smaller Astartes, disgusting in his weakness to not be able to stop him. "You massive, bloated waste of potential. Did you really think that I'd ever let you put your hands on me? You're a disgrace to the IVth."
The insults Forrix hurled at him did hurt a lot more than his obviously sadistic intent was. Was that what Forrix wanted? To have someone relate to his experience just a little bit? It didn't show to Falk still, his face still aggregated, his grip on Falk's head unrelenting, the grunts sounding more like he was biting down his pain rather than enjoying himself. One time, Forrix' length finally slid deep into his throat, the feeling uncomfortable but not as painful as when he was supposedly attempting to pound Falk's skull for real.
Forrix' dark pubes tickled his nose as each attempt of swallowing his saliva served as more and more of a clenching mechanism. "You're trying not to drool, aren't you, Barban?" He pulled out, so he could slap his beaten and flushed face with his throat spit covered shaft. "I... did I do something..." Falk couldn't continue as he coughed up the drool that managed to get into his wind pipes, earning another slap on his ruined cheek and another round of spit into Falk's open mouth.
"It will not matter to you and I'll have it so. Who said that you're done stroking!?"
Another hard kick onto Falk's lower stomach almost knocked him out of his position, if Forrix' hand did not grab his head still. "You cannot say my name without recompense, you are putting yourself in this situation without fighting back... are you even an Iron Warrior?" Forrix yanked the by then just slightly shaking Falk up, up, up.
"Come, say what I want to hear, Barban." Either answer would be wrong, and seeing Falk's beaten and fucked out face despair finally did start to have an effect on Forrix. Falk looked terrible like this. He could look worse though. "Kydomor..." He said, slow strokes accompanying his tired sounding voice. "Wrong as always."
He kicked Falk down by his chest, pressing his weight on the crease of it's recently shaven pecs before clicking his tongue again. "You didn't cum yet. Barely even leaked for me. I'm quite disappointed in you." Forrix' own cock has grown even thicker by the time he flipped the oversized Iron Warrior over. "I'll help you." He snaked one hand around Falk's thighs, holding his ass up in place while gathering the slick off his own cock, coating his entire hand in it.
The soft, cruel laughter he's been holding back finally couldn't be contained anymore. Such a large man, under his mercy, with him easily spreading Falk's legs apart. The truth was that while treating him like a mere stress toy satisfied his rage somewhat, only true pleasure from his partner could ever truly turn Forrix on. And Falk had been such an obedient replica, almost as if the nobles tho violated him way back suddenly turned into his doe-eyed concubines. He deserved to break from pleasure, thought Forrix, a surge of actual carnal want surging through him.
"Is this..." Falk took a quick breath to silence a noise that suspiciously sounded like a cry. "Is this to your liking, Kydomor? Does this... does this soothe your mind just a little?" The bent over Iron Warrior couldn't believe the words he barely managed to not cry out. He acted like a mere serf under Forrix' cruel grip, whimpering when the latter started to push every finger of his slicked hand in at once. Falk could hide his shaking no longer either, the pain as a parting gift to Forrix' condescension becoming too much.
"Relax for me whelp, or you'll only make it worse for yourself." He spat right in his folded hand trying to stretch Falk's ass multiple times, feeling the latter's groans vibrate inside his tight walls. Forrix chuckled again when he heard his inferior pump his cock, aching from the lack of release and the pain of his lower stomach.
"I never had anything-"
Falk's low groans became hisses when Forrix slowly pushed his entire hand in, feeling up Falk's walls for a certain pouch to grab onto. The mere sight of Falk's squared ass being split open by inch after inch of Forrix' hand and wrist actually made him start to twitch in the grotesque excitement. What a gaping, nearly whining mess he was for Forrix. And oh, he finally found Falk's untended to prostate.
Falk's hissing and groaning broke with more and more drawn out moans as he indeed began to relax around Forrix - to let him feel up his pleasure organ more and more. At least the two fingers rubbing the soft tissue against itself would dull the small tears of his broken in hole. He was openly crying now, as he'd felt helpless to resist Forrix' will, no matter how cruel. If he tried to pull him out, who knew what the First Captain may do with him. He couldn't stop. He must endure this.
But he couldn't. He couldn't and he bawled for it, and he pleaded for it all to stop, as if he was a mortal who did a grave mistake. Forrix granted him none, squeezing Falk's prostate in between his fingers instead, pulling on it, torturing the thing to its bruising limit.
And Falk came and came, load after load spilling onto the floor, and Forrix didn't stop. How could he? Falk looked so without use for anything but this - and Falk was feeling good. He did make him cum, so why was he being so ungrateful in whining like he was but a nymphomaniac whore? He didn't care about any of this, not when he'd felt the most control in a long time. With each painful orgasm of Falk's, Forrix came closer and closer to his own climax and soon he couldn't take it anymore, pistoning his hand out of Falk's gaping, puffy hole and shoving him around yet again to have him face Forrix' leaking, twitching shaft.
Falk's face flushed by how hard he's been bawling, the burning bruise on his cheek, the erratic breathing making Forrix' length pulse... "Fuck, you look so pathetic. Open up, Barban... you'll be able to taste how I feel."
Broken and not knowing what was good for him anymore, Falk opened up his mouth and felt himself gagged once more. He needed to cough, but Forrix didn't let him, and so he started to choke on his own spit while his superior used his throat again. But it wasn't deliberate infliction of pain any more, it was Forrix actually trying to cum. The last of Falk's thoughts were still devoted to want to ease Forrix, and so he did the only thing he could - fondle the First Captain's balls, doing his best to milk every bit of tension out of them...
With a loud groan, Forrix came finally, first in Falk's throat before moving up to his mouth and then to his lips, making sure Falk's omophagea would not miss the emotion this release brought with him.
And Falk's tears became silent, for he could taste the sheer bitterness in Forrix' release, that this whole ordeal did not help an ounce in alleviating some of his pain, and the empty satisfaction that he broke down who could've been his protégé. Protégé no more, knew both in their erratically beating hearts, as Forrix quietly parted ways with Falk before the latter had the chance to try and stand and even question what just happened.
He rinsed off the filth off his cock and hand, yet both felt still dirty. No, this form did not help and now he would need to see how he'd handle the newly appointed captain of an entire Grand Battalion. And another emotion welled up in him he did not quite expect in him... the need to check on Falk.
He decided to thoroughly wash the lingering, mostly dried suds off his hair instead.
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Ow this hurt to write but I did it. Feels like imagining a bad future like in Sonic CD *Sonic, dead or alive, is m-mine intensifies* (it eases me, I often get attached to fict characters like I do real people, so I need to get creative in order to not cry over or beat myself up over a fictional scenario. It's the autism. And the OCD. )
Anyway as always here's the list of those who prev liked before!
One more to go and there the two are actually not miserable, gullible or cruel to no result. Everything becomes beautiful and things will hurt less 😊🌻🌻
Forrix being a survivor of CSA and other awful things is my roman empire. Sometimes I myself wrtie small promts about it and how it affected him. In general this topic is very interesting to explore from the point of a writer.
We need more Astartes whose upbringing was not just 'he fucked everything and everyone up, we caught him in a cage and now he's an honorary knight'!!!
Also yes Falk deserves all the slaps and pats in the world. We can say it about every IW though...
