So someone said to me that you can never meet a good person off the Internet. I want to prove them wrong. Reblog if you’ve met someone from the Internet and they’ve turned out to be one of the best people to ever exist.
You know who you are. <3333
Yep yep yep!
Fucking hells, he was in trouble. How could he have known, he might protest, that instead of apologizing and owning up to his fuckups that Trick would instead start mewing and writhing, and rocking back into the swats Isaac was delivering to his brother? How could he have known that doing such a thing would make his own cock stiffen beneath his pants, hard and trapped between his brother’s squirming body and his own belly?
Goddess bless, Trick could unmake a man, mewling his name so goddamned desperate and sweet like that, bottom arching up into his palm where he gripped the boy, begging and perfect and so fucking beautiful it made his chest ache! “Trick…” he murmured, watching as that fluffy tail he so loved wriggled free from where his brother had stuffed it up his corset (really, did he have to hide such a pretty tail?). The lithe, squirming body in his lap was sin and temptation wrapped up in perfection as Trick wiggled his way into Isaac’s lap proper, nudging up against him, mewling just his name with what seemed sheer desperation.
This was wrong. He shouldn’t feel like this! Trick was his brother! -half-brother- okay, so only half, but that made it half-wrong, right? But that also made it half-right, and at the moment, half-right was close enough to wholly-right that the distinction barely mattered to the warlock. He wrapped arms around the werecat, meaning to hold him and shush him, and tell him…
Suddenly, Trick slid out of his gentle hold, and even though he’d instinctively tightened his arms around the boy, it was like trying to catch water with a sieve. Down to the floor Trick went, and blood sang in Isaac’s veins. There was no hiding the bulge in his pants, not from where Trick was sitting, and he couldn’t have been assed to try to hide it anyways. Tailcoat discarded, Isaac could only watch with a heated gaze as Trick rose to his knees and rested his cheek against Isaac’s knee, the warm weight of him, the sight of him there at his feet, tail curling over his head, and pupils expanded to their widest.
The question was breathy and desperate, and achingly beautiful. The flash of fang from beneath Trick’s lips never seemed so tempting before, nor had the plump pinkness of said lips seemed so damn inviting until now. Lips that were meant to be stretched around a ball-gag, or wrapped around his length, lewd and suckling hungrily, or parted with moans and gasps that wouldn’t be restrained. Isaac’s cock pulsed, and he bit back a groan. This was torture divine blessed by Eros himself.
"Mine" he purred darkly, one strong hand reaching down to cup Trick’s cheek, thumb stroking over his cheekbone, his touch firm and possessive. Fingers slid back into Trick’s hair, trailing up the outer edge of his ear until he reached the very tip, rubbing the velvet-softness between thumb and forefinger gently. "Mine and mine alone." blue-brown eyes flickered to the dresser, where various toys and accoutrements were stored for the use of the room’s occupants. "Stay put," he ordered, gently urging Trick’s head off his knee so he could stand.
Striding the short distance to the dresser, he pulled open the top drawer, gaze roving over the selection of collars, landing on a thick leather one with a functional d-ring affixed to the front. Withdrawing it, he made his way back to the loveseat and sat down once more, unbuckling the clasp and holding it open. He didn’t force it around Trick’s neck, but held it within reach so that the boy could place himself in the collar and wait for Isaac to buckle it closed once more.
Heat burbled in Darius’ veins, making every nerve ending feel hyper-sensitive and specially attuned to the texture of Dante’s skin. The plea to never be offered mercy struck a chord in him, resonated through him, consumed him in the layers of meaning, the desire, the sheer submissive want and joyful sacrifice that such a phrase held. It could have been easy to write off as mere sex-talk from a superbly talented whore, but to Darius it was a sonnet written in pain and ecstasy and he captured the words in his mind, keeping them close for lonely nights and wishful thinking.
He lost himself in the sweetness of Dante’s body, drowned in his moans and shudders, was consumed in the clench of his body around his length with every inward thrust. “God…Dante” he moaned, a shudder wracking his frame as nails dug into his back, feeling a distinct burn and sting in their wake. He could tell that Dante had drawn blood in his ecstasy, and the knowing drove him to greater heights of pleasure, having been marked in a tangible way by this wild man. He growled a hungry sound in response, mouthing Dante’s shoulder and biting carefully over tan skin. He found himself drunk on Dante’s moans and curses and groans, craving only to pull more of them out of his wolf.
His arms ached, his abs burned, his thighs nearly quivered with strain, but those were nothing compared to the welcoming, needy embrace of his lover. Another moan fell from him, this one deep and husked as Dante panted over his ear, pleading and moaning, peppering kisses along his jawline almost worshipful in their fervor. A pleased, delighted smile spread his face as he was accused of being a tease, his dear Dante slowly crumbling beneath the assault of pleasure and desires being fulfilled. It was a look that only a rare few saw on his face. He chuckled at the heated complaints, resting his forehead against Dante’s, nuzzling the man as he kept his torturously steady pace, his own body winding tight, urging him to speed up.
"Why, my dear wolf? What have I done but give you precisely what you asked for?” The question was teasing, and he changed his angle slightly, making sure to scrape the fat head of his cock over Dante’s prostate with each inward stroke, starting to punctuate the finish of each thrust with a slightly harder snap of his hips, the motion jolting Dante against the wall each time he did it.
"If you think I’m withholding anything from you, my sweet, do feel free to beg me for it.” His tongue darted out to lick at Dante’s lower lip, teasing and playful. “I find I can’t deny you anything when you beg so prettily.” The words were nearly a sigh, the confession escaping him in a heated breath. He was well and truly lost to this man, for as long as he had him in his grasp.
Terin’s head whipped around at the soft exclamation, sharp teeth bared and a clicking, inhuman growl rising in his throat. Slitted eyes pinned on Lian intently, and for a brief, bright moment, there was a possessive quality to his gaze.
Swallowing his current mouthful of meat and viscera, Terin let the hare fall carelessly to the ground. Blood-soaked fingers lifted to his mouth so that he could lick them clean as he stalked towards the little half-elf, recognition and possession a quiet purr deep within his chest. This…was his. Smelled like him and smelled like rutting. It even bore the imprints of his teeth on its neck. It must be his.
The shock in the little male’s eyes, the way his hands were held up defensively strummed latent fears within Terin, but something more bestial had hold of him right now, and it wouldn’t be denied. Consciousness and humanity were subsumed - if temporarily - beneath the veil of animal instinct. Drawing close to Lian, Terin’s nostrils flared, a quiet noise of appreciation escaping him as he leaned close, nuzzling into the male’s hair. He smelled good.
"…pretty…" he murmured hazily, clearly not in his right mind. Strong hands, bloody and tipped with claws, grabbed Lian by the shoulders abruptly, shoving him back up against a tree and shoving the pack away from him so that bark dug into the half-elf’s back. "Mine," he hissed challengingly, as though Lian would protest the claiming.
Pressing their bodies flush, Terin pinned Lian to the tree, lifting the other male with strong hands, forcing his way between his thighs. Blood-smeared lips descended to Lian’s neck, biting over the barely-closed wound from the night before, and re-opening it with a sharp bite, teeth buried into flesh. This little male was his, and while he didn’t yet smell ripe for breeding, deep down Terin knew someday he would, and it was better to have laid his claim long before that time came.
Story Time, kids! Get comfy…
So, just under a year ago, I was in a pretty bad place emotionally. I’d tried to get into RP with someone I didn’t know, got my feelings and self-confidence smacked around as a result and genuinely considered quitting writing. This person was so cruel, and had so systematically destroyed every shred of self confidence that I had, that I actually started to believe the crap she spewed, and began to buy into the notion that I was actually terrible and my characters were terrible, and that I was garbage, who was too old for RP (28, at the time), that I shouldn’t be doing it, that I was a weirdo and a freak.
I wanted to quit writing. For good. I actually wanted to quit existing, but that’s related to other, “chemical imbalance” sorts of things. But I digress…
And then something happened. During one of Darkprism’s read-alongs, I mentioned that I was thinking about pulling all of my stories off the web. Dee asked why, and I eventually (reluctantly) confessed that I’d had such a rotten experience that it soured me on writing entirely. The anger from her and her lovelies (on my behalf!) was overwhelming. I might have cried a bit because I finally realized that there were still people on my side. That I wasn’t the literary equivalent of gutter trash.
One of the people there was the ever-delightful Chikao, who directed me to the roleplaying site that they use - Elliquiy. I immediately cringed away from the words “Adult roleplaying” until I got over my initial squeamishness and decided to put in an application anyways. I mean…I felt like shit about myself anyways, so I figured this would either be a good thing, or it would turn me off writing with or near anyone for good this time.
It turned out to be so, so much more than just “good”. I’ve made so many amazing friends there, I’ve written some incredible stories with people and explored things that I’d never considered before, and gotten back into my solo-writing once more with the encouragement of a few special folks. It’s easy to say that since joining, I have been happier in a lot of ways.
So, if you role-play, if you enjoy writing with others and being silly and sexy and scary and gory and fun or any combination of those things, let me send you their way: https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php
If this reaches one person who’s looking for a home for RP, I’ll consider my work here done. I just wanted to share, and maybe reach someone who’s in a similar place.
Bonus: For every like or share I get on this post, I’ll post an excerpt of something I’ve written on Elliquiy. ;) It’s like literary roulette! You never know what you’ll get…
I’ve deleted Mythic from my AFF and Y-Gallery! profiles. I’ll be doing some major editing to it and trying my hand at submitting to a publisher. Keep your fingers crossed for me <3
~Kestrel-Sama AKA “Griff”