Cosimo Galluzzi
RMH
dirt enthusiast
will byers stan first human second
Jules of Nature
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
art blog(derogatory)
we're not kids anymore.

shark vs the universe

@theartofmadeline
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

blake kathryn

JVL

Discoholic 🪩
Claire Keane
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
i don't do bad sauce passes
🪼
todays bird
Three Goblin Art
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@magmatenente
Restrain a knight and pull off their armour piece by piece they'll probably cum like 8 times. If you wear armour your whole body is an erogenous zone.
ken ichi murata
Succumbing to the will of the snail as we speak
THE LOVERS II
Gothic (1986)
Flesh+Blood (1985)
Cemetery Man (1994)
Benedetta (2021)
I think ludinus deserves to kiss Trent after giving Trent a bloody nose
This blog is pro sexy trent ikithon please keep that in mind
Caleb uses one of Trents removed hands to jack himself off, just once, and he cums super hard and then rolls over and cries and heaves and then casts banish on it and only has a little bit of regret
"We are at a resort in a non-extradition country and continent, Ludinus. I think you can take the moment to relax," Trent says, lifting another pink drink to his lips with an improbably designed bendy straw. He pulls deeply from the beverage and Ludinus watches the drink level sink in the coconut holder it is contained in.
"We still have much to do, Trent, and you would do well to remember that. The powers that are after us may not be at our level or attention to detail, but we cannot deny their craftiness nor drive."
Trent reclines further, setting the drink down on a side table. His legs are skinny and laid bare until upper thigh on the beach chair. Thick silver hair, short and interestingly curly runs down to taper out along mid-calf on both sides. Trent's smile reminiscent of the moment before he traps an outside party within their own words.
"Worry is useless. I am prepared for many contingencies at a moment's notice. As are you, I know. Why not take what this resort has to offer, and release some tension, ja? There will be time to plot and plan another day."
Ludinus does not roll his eyes. He'd mastered a presentation face long ago. He does shift his weight, however, leaning further on the finely crafted cane and sinking it an inch further into the sandy beach.
"Even so. I will not be caught unawares like you seem determined to, Trent." He grips his own hand over the handle of the cane tightly for four seconds before releasing. "I will be back at the room, excuse me."
He turns and walks off, stalking towards the room and trying to push the frustrating circular conversation they've had multiple times since arriving out of his mind. He doesn't see or feel Trent's gaze linger on him as he goes, nor see the brief flicker of tongue wetting Trent's lips or the spark of light in his eyes as he does.
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By the beachside, an attendant comes to refresh Trent's drink and take any other requests he may have. Trent stretches out lifting his arms up over his head, knowing his midriff is bared as he does so, the corded muscle showing to the young man replacing his drink.
"Thank you, son, your service is prompt and welcome," he says, taking the freshly offered beverage.
"My pleasure, sir," the attendant says, eyes drifting down the length of his long body. Trent lowers his arms slowly, shaking out the tension in his shoulders. "Is there anything else we can do for you?" the boy offers.
Trent looks up to the boy's face. Elven kind. Honeyed complexion. He rolls his shoulders again.
"My back and shoulders are bothering me, would you rub them out? I find it hard to relax with all this tension crowding the top of my spine. And your hands look clever enough to work out the knots," he says, voice low and feathery. He lays just enough suggestion into his tone that the boy nods, agrees.
"Where do you want me, sir?" he asks, setting his tray down.
Trent moves forward, sitting up so the boy has room to settle behind him. He lays his hands over Trent's shoulders and begins kneading, working his thumbs into little divots in the skin and concentrating on moving in and down, working the problems out of the skin.
While the attendant works, Trent talks. He compliments the boy's hands again. He lets out one genuine sigh of relief when a portion of his neck is cracked gently and then massaged. But mostly he talks of his companion to the attendant.
"My partner is a stranger to indulging in free time. He is so on edge, so unable to relax, no matter the environment," he laments, pushing a hint of regret into his tone. "I wish there were a way to help him be comfortable. If you think this is bad, you should feel him--tense night and day, even as he trances," Trent says. Behind him the attendant makes a noise of sympathy.
"Our resort offers many activities, solo or paired, that could be employed to help him enjoy the moment in his surroundings. Has he been informed of the options?" the attendant dutifully inquires.
"Yes, and he is still hesitant. He just needs to come out of his shell. To be introduced to the world of pleasure," Trent nearly purrs, leaning back into the hands of the attendant he'd swayed to stay. He wets his lips, turning to see their expression. In front of him, unseen, his hands pull a component from the pocket of his shorts and begin casting.
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"Recalcitrant old man," Ludinus mutters to himself, looking up at the sun and guesstimating the time. Trent's been out for a couple hours longer than he expected. "Hope he comes back with a burn to rival a lobster. Serves him right for not taking this seriously."
This is a vacation in one sense, yes, but it is not a time to be taking their security lax or remove their good sense from their bodies! He has no one to control or schemes to manifest at the moment, only to ensure their continued survival until such a time as returning to the Empire will prompt a welcome and not a misguided death sentence. He hasn't lived this long to be confounded by some mercenaries and their stupid bleeding hearts.
Dinner arrives as placed by a standing order, portioned just for one, however. Ludinus stops the attendant before he can leave, questioning it.
"Of course, sir. Your partner sent a request to have his portion delivered to one of the patios near the beach earlier this evening. He said he'd be spending more time with the offered activities before retiring. Would you like to join him? I can have your meal re-prepared and fresh--"
"Certainly not," Ludinus interrupts. "If Trent wants to spend his time being burnt to a crisp and ogled by locals, that is his business."
"Of course, sir," the attendant bows, hair falling over one shoulder, tied improperly. Sloppiness does no one any favors. He doesn't comment on it, however, and allows the elven boy to leave. No tip, though, in exchange for his messy demeanor.
Ludinus sits at the table in the living area of their room, taking a bite and drinking from the goblet. The cuisine is fine and held to the standard he is accustomed to, thankfully. Though little else seems to be, lately. He finishes his meal quickly, tidily.
It's not until he feels his vision double that he realizes he should have questioned further that Trent did not accompany him, tonight.
Dirty Work
Trent doesn’t often have to do the dirty work himself. He enjoys it, but that’s what subordinates are for. But right now, he is the only option, and he relishes the opportunity.
The Martinet and himself alone, taking some time to themselves to vacation, plan, and assemble new strategies. And whatever side activities that pique their fancy.
He know his effect on Da’leth. The old elf has an impressive façade, but Trent can see through such falsehoods with ease, by now. He sees intent even when obscured. And Da’leth holds it for him in spades. Sending a subordinate in his place would be wildly unsatisfying in these conditions—not to mention, not feasible.
They have limited their magic use by mutual agreement, keeping their reserves at the ready.
Trent has maneuvered Da’leth into sharing quarters. Soon, he will push farther. Every chip he makes against Da’leth’s composure brings the other further under his thumb. Learning more… intimate reactions and details of the other prove for an interesting baseline.
Today he is setting out to push them closer, to test Da’leth’s personal space, and see how physically close he can get before the great Martinet Ludinus Da’leth snaps.
Trent smiles, thinking about the anger that will crack the neutral mask. Delicious. A bolt of heat stirs in his stomach as he completes his morning ablutions, preparing for the day.
I feel like we need to admit that trent ikithon is very fuckable and that’s just as intimidating as his magical powers
friendly reminder that you need to purposely sexualize your digusting problematic fave
thank you
I love h a n d s
in love