fake fic: "Organized knowledge in story and picture" =]
organized knowledge in story and picture || trolls and humans have lived with each other for centuries. so it’s nothing out of the ordinary when barbara lake, md swings by trollmarket to treat her friend blinkous to lunch—she’s got a patient whose symptoms are getting exacerbated by what looks like a nasty curse, and blinky, after all, is the curator of one of the largest non-human libraries in the hemisphere.
what she isn’t expecting is his new, criminally handsome assistant. blinky’s never had one before, jealous of his library as he rightly is; pseudolus, as he introduces himself, seems a little surprised to see her in the stacks, but he must know nearly everything about magic. she’s gotten pretty familiar with blinky’s library over the years, but if she just so happens to ‘forget’ where he keeps his annotated summa paracelsiana, just this once…well, who’s gonna tell?
// humans and trolls have hated changelings for centuries. so the stealth and secrecy and dissembling is nothing new. but this time, it’s absolutely imperative that the changeling stricklander maintain his cover: blinkous might be petty (and pedantic), smug, the quintessential galadrigal, but his library rivals the order’s own.
what he isn’t expecting is getting press-ganged into helping a human woman find some dusty sixteenth-century alchemical manual (which, as any changeling can tell you, doesn’t hold a candle to tamlane's nea technike). blinkous has mentioned his human friend before, but stricklander never thought they would meet; needless to say, he was also hardly expecting that this friend would be his human ex.
(A/N: Okay, so this is about...5, 6? Years overdue. Basically @bifacialler asked me for a Butterfly Bog drabble back when I was still taking requests and I...er never got around to writing it. Sorry! This is definitely a lemon and very much not safe for work. My usual warnings for this pairing apply, as well as a bit of bondage, knifeplay, and blindfolding. Those weren’t requested, but they kind of...snuck their way in there. ORZ. Title comes from “I Get Off” by Halestorm. Unbeta’d.))
So she’d be willing to admit that her expectations had been a bit...skewed when they’d started doing the Wild Thing on a regular basis. Aside from clawing furrows in the nearest surface, lapsing into Goblin tongue, or insisting on eating her out at least once per ‘concert’, Bog seemed perfectly content with her being in charge. Which Marianne was completely fine with. Honestly, couldn’t ask for better, especially with the Love Potion fiasco out of the way.
At least, until she’d found out that it wasn’t so much that he was....er, really dedicated to backup vocals. She just hadn’t been giving him the right incentive to take centre stage. He thinks she’s beautiful no matter her appearance or what she does, but apparently her acting and looking like the Queen of the Dark Forest? Especially wearing something dark purple and easy-to-remove? Really brings something out in him. And by the gods if remembering that night of discovery didn’t fail to make her hot and bothered every. Single. Time.
Hence her current position: Clothing reduced to gauzy shreds, two of which had been used to bind her wrists and cover her eyes, being bent over the dining room table while still recovering from round 1, their combined fluids slowly seeping out of her exposed core. Marianne has to choke back a sob as one of his fingers carefully dips inside her, his other hand spread over her lower back to keep her from thrashing. She’s still sensitive and it hurts a little but it’s so good. Her sore and thoroughly-bitten breasts rub against the hard and slightly uneven surface beneath her with every shift and squirm. The digit slips in all the way to the knuckle before he withdraws it and she can hear him sucking it clean with a low, satisfied hum. Her passage clenches down on nothing while she moans, suddenly in need of relief from the heat he’s re-ignited in her.
Something cold and flat meanders its’ way up her spine as he leans over her, feeling the vibrations as Bog violently slams it into the table and readjusts the fabric on her wrists so that she’s secured to this...thing. Feels like...a handle? Oh. He’d taken one of the knives and buried it deep enough to prevent her from accidentally injuring herself. Or attempting an escape. The second one is way more likely, given their history.
“Don’t s’pose yer considering surrender?” The soft, purring taunt is right in her left ear, his tongue flicking out to trace the lobe. It’s endearing that he’s considerate enough to ask her if she wants a break or to stop entirely; But it is also entirely his fault that both of those options are the furthest thing from her mind right now. Marianne should have known he’d get her back for deliberately riling him up during a very long diplomatic meeting. It had been worth it, though.
“Not a chance.” She growls, biting her lip when she feels the head of his cock rub against her entrance. “Hurry up already.” Her attempts to push her hips backward and take him inside again are met with failure, leaving the thwarted fairy muttering curses under her breath.
“Much as Ah’m enjoyin’ your...creative suggestions, yeh ken tha’s not how it’s done, lass.” Bog reminds her, soft and rumbling, his mouth latching onto the semi-permanent bite mark where her neck and shoulder meet. She groans from a combination of the scrape of his teeth on her skin, his insistence on her doing this one thing, and how wet the prospect of it makes her.
“I order you to fuck me.” Marianne begins through gritted teeth, a harsh pant escaping when the hand on her lower back curved down to grasp her hip. “Hard. Until the whole castle can hear me scream.” She’s drenched and absolutely throbbing and she needs him right now or she might go crazy.
“As my queen commands.” There’s a brief nudge before he splits her open, thrusts deep and savage. She would honestly swear that she could feel him in the back of her throat, like this. Their current position leaves her partially immobilized, despite her efforts to try and match his frantic rhythm; his large, rough hands at her hip and now the back of her neck keeping her pinned while the table jolts and trembles from the force of it all. She has to take it whether she wants to or not. And she most certainly wants, keening sharply and deliberately squeezing so the ridges on him can scrape against the spot that makes stars burst behind her closed eyes.
Bog isn’t silent or passive in his appreciation, grunts and growls slipping between the lips and teeth that are currently inflicting a line of fresh marks between her left shoulder and earlobe. She can feel him starting to swell and expand inside her in a very...particular fashion, grinning like the madwoman he sometimes accuses her of being when he gasps sharply in realization. “You planned this.” His shaft will lock them together for a time, and she knows from experience how fantastic that feels, even if it only happens when she’s at a fertile peak in her cycle. Which just started this morning, as a matter of fact. Something she’d had to work to hide from him until this very moment. “Ah’d wondered why yeh muddled up yer scent with perfumes and oils. ‘Specially your sweet quim.” He’d paused for a moment as he spoke, then drew out the time of his next few thrusts, pulling out a high-pitched, protestant whine from her.
“You should -mm- know by now -ah!- I don’t do things by halves.” Marianne points out smugly, jumping a bit as the hand on her neck shifts next to her right ear, his claws dragging downwards ever so slowly, leaving what sound like long, shallow trenches in the wood. Well, give a Goblin’s instincts credit, he knows how to make a point even without talking.
“One of these days, you’re going t’get in over your head, Tough Girl.” Bog rumbles, squeezing her hip hard enough to draw little crimson beads from her skin, before the other set of claws becomes embedded in the table as well. She turns her head just enough to give him a look at her challenging smile, a silent dare for him to ‘bring it’. And then there isn’t much room left for talking between them. Only fervent motion and noises that slide up and down the scale between pleasure and pain until they reach that final, tortured crescendo; her leading, him following a heartbeat after.
It’s intense enough that she blacks out for a few seconds, coming to with the blindfold and restraints removed, her lover gently kissing between her shoulderblades. She can feel his shaft pulsing lazily within her and hums in contentment. “Mm...I hope you didn’t have any plans for the rest of the day.” She teases, stretching out and feeling him chuckle.
“Ah have a feeling yeh’ve somehow conspired to clear my schedule like the scheming wee fairy that y’are.” He answers, right before their lips meet in a soft carress. Bog’s right, of course, but Marianne isn’t about to tell him that. Their respective kingdoms won’t collapse if they take the afternoon off, and she hasn’t even shown him the full extent of her plans. Yet. She does so look forward to surprising him, though.
(A/N: *coughs* Yeah, so. That happened. Hope you enjoy?)
I’ve been losing art time left and right of late thanks to December syndrome and other things going on so BOY do I have a lot lying around that I wanted done before end of the year and just… seem to be failing miserably.
Here’s one of them in it’s horribly messy glory, I’ve lost count how many times I’ve scrapped and redrawn those carvings alone.
Hehe okay! Either a ridiculously kinky Stricklake chapter involving water, not quite pool sex but like…SOMETHING on a boat? And the open waters…oof maybe some fun by the boat’s ladder - in short smutty times on a boat and in water lol
O.R.
On a different note far more Barbara centric fic where she’s the Lady of the Lake AU involving mermaids and selkies and other water lore!!
Almost forgot, but i'm here now and I really want 🎂 and Strickler!))
Walt doesn’t have an actual birthday but Barbara wanted to celebrate with him so she and Nomura picked a random date and surprised him. Jim made the cake because he wanted to help celebrate but he’s really not here for his parents being so mushy.
bifacialler replied to your post “Love and War (chapter 16)”
this fic has been a heaven-send for me the past week. Also I feel like Marianne's dress is going to fly out of the window next chapter and I'm a-ok with it.
I’m so glad that the story has been so good for you! <3 That is really lovely to hear!
.........I can neither confirm nor deny any predictions concerning Marianne’s dress 😇
