Writer of MorMor Fic and Fantasy. Absinthe Faerie in disguise as a human. Do have a peek at my work as TheGreenFaerie on AO3, darlings... if slow burning-darkly romantic-vicious-delicious indulgences are your cup of drinking chocolate.
This blog is for all things MorMor that I adore... Fic, RP, and my beloved idiots, The Kitten & The Tiger. XOXO
Water… water flowing over my face, my body… warm water…
Body pleasantly limp, sprawled on a chair…
Loins twitching with afterglow…
I look down at a face with the largest grin I’ve ever seen on man or beast… Lethal and endearing, looking up at me with pride and… possessiveness? No - I must be mistaken. I’m the possessive one. You’re the possessed…
“I do think you’ve got healing powers, Saint Sebastian. I’m feeling a lot better…”
Shall I? Oh, why not. I’m in a generous mood, and you’ve had enough to put up with these past days.
“Get up…” I gesture, and when you’re standing, pull you towards me, open my mouth, put it on your cock.
I’ve been so distracted with the demented rollercoaster of my own issues that I didn’t think about how your problems might be affecting you.
You don’t just get the perfect second thrown at you in mint condition, Moriarty. You knew he had some previous damages.
He’s good though. He’s that rare combination of overall intelligence and elite soldier.
But - a bit suicidal and probably more than a little fucked up in the head.
I’ll have to dig into that. Can’t have him dropping any balls, not when I rely on him.
“Right. I’ve been a bit preoccupied, as you can imagine, but I do need you in top form. So - we have the psychiatrist on standby. Maybe we should have him come over and you could have a talk with him about how to deal with your issues.”
I don’t want to get into this - I don’t - I have enough on my bloody plate -
I have to. I rely on him - he’s all the Empire I got at the moment…
“Do you know what is going on? What your issues are? Do you have any diagnoses, or suspicions? What are your coping mechanisms, why are they failing? Have they ever worked?”
I see you frown at my questions.
“I need to know these things, soldier. You are my entire army at the moment. I need to know how you work.”
In a move away from our usual deep emotional explorations of the Mormor psyche, @greenfaeriefeverdream and I started writing a PWP where Jim and Seb exchange snarky texts across continents, culminating in video chat sex.
There may be plot at some point in the future, but for now it’s just two delicious psychos enjoying each other’s bodies while they’re not together.
iPad shopped over Seb because the original version of this post was flagged for adult content… *eyeroll*.
One year ago we posted the first chapter of Roses and Tequila for Santa Muerte - FUCK YOU, You Little Shit, because though our boys are incredibly romantic, they also drive each other up the wall sometimes.
Featuring a Death Saint who manages to stir their black, black hearts just a little bit, a near shooting, a baneful phonecall, stripping in biker gear, the Day of Domination, and a beautiful dark faerie tale.
“Sacred accomplice of the underworld, beloved death in my heart, protect my crazy life.”
Art: Mexican Mob
How I’ve missed writing about Our Lady of Holy Death, Nuestra Señora de la Santa Muerte!
So much so, that I found myself writing just yesterday in the Symbiotic Criminal Psychopath series that Sebastian suggests bringing roses and tequila for Santa Muerte, only to discover later that it was the mormorversary of posting the first chapter of… Roses and Tequila for Santa Muerte.
So that was delightfully unsettling and synchronous, but it was so good to remember Book 5 of the series. So much delicious divine darkness in this tale… I can only echo the words of my feline associate: I love this fic.