#hagiophagy

[solrites]

[belasso]

happy gay couple vs evil and intimidating french woman

mortal kombat vc: fatality. intimidating french woman wins‼️

[cur4tor]

LUCY MILTON: YOU SAID YOU HAD SOMETHING FOR ME?

‘i said i might have something for you. and that i’d prefer you call before you came, but . . .’ alas, lucy was here. had startled kit at her intrusion, really, but saying so would most likely do nothing more than amuse her. willing heartbeat to settle, kit took a moment to look him over before he left the feather duster he’d been using in one corner of the shop, approaching the front counter and hesitating only for another moment before he opened a safe and pulled out a box. ‘you said it might belong to you, so i kept it . . . i cannot speak to its full authenticity, but from what i can tell . . .’ he didn’t finish, instead urging lucy to open it to see for himself. @hagiophagy.

[reincarnal]

[drip.] sender drips spit into receiver's mouth / onto receiver.

lucy sits above her, every bit the ruler they are in a high - backed chair, feet firm on the floor, looking down at his lover on her knees. ella's hands slide slow across lucy's bare thighs, her eyes cold as ever but her mouth fixed into a pout as she waits to be given permission to please her. he's bare beneath his skirt and so close to her, ella practically able to taste them already. " come on, baby... " she whines, shifting as the ache between her own thighs grows stronger. the faster she's allowed to satisfy, the faster she will be satisfied.

but lucy has patience in spades by comparison. they always have. he remains where he may, with ella always at her heels, always in chase. of course, it should be no different here. she shivers as lucy takes hold of her jaw, urging her mouth open, and leans forward, watches as the slow drip of saliva falls towards her open mouth. she moans at the impact, a hollow, gasped sound with her jaw held still. she meets lucy's gaze until her lover seems at last pleased with her obedience and allows her to dig in.

[amobscene]

❛ people are just people. and i have to give people what they want. ❜

answered.

"what do people want?" billie knows nothing of people. she's a grown, wild raccoon that has been brought from the outdoors to become a pet. she knows what she wants and what she likes ... rarely does that align with what the general public thinks is just fine. it figures; most people are fucking idiots, and they're happy with being that way. what a bunch of fucking suckers.

"y'wanna know what i want? 'cause i could go for a burger, if yer goin' anywhere. since yer givin' the people what they want." billie locks eyes with lucy, staring both longingly and expectingly. "... maybe some fries, too."

[amobscene]

❛ you can't escape from yourself. ❜

answered.

introspection is not billie's strong suit. it's generous to claim billie has many strong suits, but if she does, this is not one of them. it's not a quality she seeks, frankly. a simple life is what billie's always lived, and she doesn't see why there's any reason not to maintain it. what ain't broke, don't need to be fixed, and she doesn't see anything within herself that needs to be fixed ... and if there is, well. she's done this fine so far, right? maybe it's okay if something is broken inside of her. maybe it's funny or interesting, or people just like it. what about that!

what if she likes holding on to what she can, and ignoring what she cannot? anything that billie cannot control is not worth having, right? and fuck knows how she tries and tries to control everything within her grasp.

"i don't need'ta run away from myself." she argues. one knee is bended and drawn to her chest; billie hugs her leg closely. "i'm just fine the way i am, i ain't got nothin' to run from." yet her chin drops to her knee, and billie looks more like a child than the young, argumentative woman that she is.

[emotionealie]

@hagiophagy asked: ❛  did you always get what you wanted when you waited?  ❜ anomaly.

nealie considers his question a moment -- impressive, given her impulse control. lips purse and she sweeps her hair behind her ear in thought. "...no?" this feels like a fucking trick question. "pretty much everything i've lost was by waiting." patience and nealie aren't always on healthy terms, though she suspects that'll have to change soon given the recent change in her lifespan. what a chore.

"so if you're trying to make a point," nealie smiles at lucy now, returning her full attention to her, "you'll have to say it a little more plainly."

[hatchethawked]

@hagiophagy : "is that what you really want, ted? " before he can answer that, the heel of lucy's shoe digs into the top of his foot, something gleeful in her eyes. "you're nothing but a sad little pervert. always wanting someone to beat you up and make you feel worthless." lucy's smile is sadistic, yet there's something happy in it. his heel digs harder. "fine. since nobody else wants to deal with you, i guess that leaves me."

if one were to really analyze ted, do some deep introspective work, they might come to the conclusion that ted seeks out pain as a punishment for his perceived faults, a desperate attempt to externally support his scathing self hatred. ted himself would never come to such a conclusion, his introspective skills severely lacking. if you asked him why he's so desperate for pain he'd just say something about it feeling good, something about there being a very thin line between pain and pleasure, that a lot of people don't know how to walk that line, but him? he's different. he's got some kind of magic sexual skill that means he can do it perfectly. he'd say that with earnest, believing every word.

which is why the sound that comes out when lucy's heel digs into his foot isn't entirely one of pain. the pain is there, and he is groaning about it, but the sound was also very clearly one of pleasure. the grunts and whimpers that follow are far from quiet, mouth hanging wide open as his body curls in on itself, though his eyes never leave lucy. always looking up at him with pleading eyes, though even he doesn't know if he's begging for mercy or begging for more. "yes." whimpered out as the heel digs deeper, sharp gasp escaping as he tries to form some kind of composure amongst the pain. he knows better than to get so caught up that he doesn't respond, though sometimes he likes to push the limits, see if disobedience can earn him more pain.

it doesn't even have to be inherently sexual pain to turn him on, the tension in the air can turn anything sensual, that's part of the fun. it's too easy when everything's overt and in your face, unconventional methods is all part of the art form. that's what this is to him, an artistic song and dance that goes beyond what the more vanilla people are willing to accept. he's never been one for the easy stuff. sure, simple sex is fun, but there's something so much more thrilling about this. the adrenaline rush of the pain, the excitement of not knowing what will come next, the fear thrumming through his veins. only made better by the sweet sound of her voice layering on the degradation and humiliation as he digs his heel deeper into ted's foot.

"thank-thank you." all but moaned out, skin flushed as his body tries to adapt to the pain, gasps and grunts that escape him making it clear that the pain is overruling the pleasure. and still he has gratitude, still he affirms the words of the one in charge. "i am. i am a sad worthless little pervert." saying the words just make him flush even more, makes his chest pound and his palms sweat. but that's the point, isn't it? it's the honey sweet voice feeding him degradation and his own pathetic whimpered out repetitions of it that pushes the pain towards pleasure, those words that get him hard despite what his body is feeling. "thank you. thank you for dealing with me."