#But it’s a delight and really seals the deal

[rooolt]

Pathetic guy enjoyers simply have to get into balnor the brave. He is four feet tall and balding, he’s from the future in a town where mayo grows in nuts. He holds the bags, and his favorite food is tuna. He’s an alcoholic, specifically downs Bud Heavy’s like water. He took a shit in space and was a card. His entire village including his wife and his son were slaughtered by people called the hounds, who he subsequently killed like three times. He was almost murdered in a foursome and in an alternate timeline he died of Funkarrhea and was brought back to life as a dick out ape. I’ve cried over him, he’s the best character in the world

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny couldn't really explain why he always answered this specific summoning ritual. It was like a feeling. One of warmth. Of a mug of hot cocoa in your hands and a nice weighted blanket dropped around your shoulders as a fire blazed in the hearth in front of you, keeping the chill in the rest of the room at bay.

Danny always lost himself in the sensation and found himself back in that stupid circle of protection with that same wierd guy demanding answers. But Danny didn't know anything about a "Lazarus Pit" or a "Pit Madness" let alone a cure for it. Even if he did he wasn't going to tell Red Robin anything after all the times he'd used the marriage summoning spell to get him here.

Earlier on Red had explained it was the only spell known to thier universe that could summon an entity from "The Lazarus Dimension" Which he guessed was another name for the ghost zone and Phantom was the only one to ever be summoned.

Danny couldn't help but wonder why...

After escaping Bird boy and his supernatural pop quiz (oh look, another test for him to flunk) he returns home only to discover his parents had seen him get summoned and accused him of being a ghost that replaced thier baby boy.

Naturalally the next time Red Robin had summoned Phantom he was angry. He was tired and dirty from being on the run from his parents, his worlds US government, and Vlad. Not to mention his own rogues gallery didn't exactly cut him any slack.

So Danny decided that if Red Robin wanted to abuse the power of a marriage ritual than the very least he can do is put his money where his mouth is.

Danny grinned and exited the magic circle, taking delight in Reds widening eyes before he lunged. A kiss sealed the deal, making sure Danny had a safeish place to stay.

After all, married couples in the infinite realms were obligated and even compelled to protect and care for eachother.

[seakicker]

mother's day hc that you tell the genshin boys you're pregnant on mother's day so they decide to celebrate by getting you double pregnant?

YES MA’AM i had a randomizer pick four names for me out of all the guys i write for… kinda laughing at 3/4 of them being all the Serious, Stoic ones lol

fem reader, pregnancy, breeding, overstimulation (alhaitham) and knotting (gorou) below!

alhaitham

You can never be too sure, he says— a good, valid experiment hinges upon proper reliability. Do you know how many undergraduate experimental reports he’s dismissed on account of their supposed “results” being the chance of mere coincidence or random chance? It never hurts to eliminate the possibility of a false positive and to ensure that your positive pregnancy test result is a true positive by breeding you all over again and having you take another pregnancy test in five weeks or so.

When you tell him you’re pregnant, he responds with a quiet nod before almost analyzing all of the behavior you’ve displayed over the last few weeks. Yes, the news makes perfect sense— last week, Alhaitham overheard you wondering aloud if your period was late or if you had just tracked it wrong, and he’d have to be a fool to not know what a missed period is the universal signifier of. The news comes at a perfect time, so he couldn’t be happier— though your husband certainly has a… uniquely stoic way of expressing happiness.

That night, he replicates every last aspect of the night he imagines he got you pregnant some five weeks ago (it’s a simple calculation, really) down to your spot on the bed and the clothes he was wearing just to make sure that a false positive is out of the question. Perhaps he’ll have to come inside if you twice tonight just to really seal the deal that you’re pregnant— once is chance, twice is a coincidence, and thrice is a true pattern. You’d like to try and convince him that surely there’s no need for all of this, that pregnancy tests rarely, rarely fail or show an incorrect result, but there’s no pushing back against your husband’s logical calculations or sense of reason— not that you’re much in the condition to even try to speak with him anyways.

When your husband has you spread open wide with your knees pressed up against either side of your chest, a light conversation is absolutely out of the picture. You’d consider it a feat to muster up anything other than splintered whines of your husband’s name and delicate pleas for him to slow down— though, truthfully, it’d be an even bigger feat if you managed to successfully convince Alhaitham of doing the latter. He hasn’t stalled or slowed his pace for even a fraction of a second because he, of course, is trying to replicate the night he very likely knocked you up exactly, and he just so happened to be absolutely railing you that night.

“You can certainly take more than this.” That’s all he offers when you beg him to slow down again. “I’ve discovered, met, and exceeded every last one of your limits myself, and this pace, this position, and this fervor hardly come close to any of those. I’m simply validating your claim before I take to preparing the spare room for our child.”

You gasp and let your head fall back against the pillow, defeated and overwhelmed in equal tandem by your husband’s delightful Mother’s Day plans.

Alhaitham only chuckles once, a satisfied smirk so faint on his lips that you almost don’t catch it at all. “You’ll be alright. We’ll have nine entire months to be gentle.”

zhongli

Zhongli has lived a normal human lifetime nearly ninety times over— yet, fascinatingly, he always insists he’s come nowhere close in experiencing everything life, nature, humanity, and civilization have to offer, an assertion you’ve always found downright impossible to fathom. How does somebody not get bored after six thousand years of life? You know people who are bored after just four years of working in the same career before they jump ship and try to find something, anything completely different.

He offers the exact same explanation every single time you once again ask how he still finds things to do, places to go, and activities to enjoy after being alive for so long— he always, always smiles softly and explains that he never gets bored with life because you’re in it, and you show him new things, new foods, and new ways to love and enjoy the world that he never even imagined prior to meeting you.

You’ll admit that you’ve found his reasoning somewhat hard to believe on a few separate occasions— like he’s seriously been alive for over six thousand years, yet he’s never tried red bean ice cream from Inazuma before? It’s not exactly a rare or expensive good. However, there are other times when you think you understand what he means, and his logic has never been more evident than today because you told your darling husband that you’re pregnant this morning.

“I’ve never been a father before,” Zhongli hums as he presses a wide circle of kisses all around the cusp of your tummy. “I’ve tutored and taught many, but I’ve never raised a child as my own from their very birth.”

“Does it make you nervous?” You grip his left hand a little tighter as his right comes to rub a soothing circle over the apex of your soft belly.

He pauses for a moment. “I see no reason to be afraid of new experiences, let alone ones I have you to guide me through. I’ve found that sampling life’s uncertainties and navigating its surprises provide far more enrichment than routine.”

You laugh. “I don’t think I can do much ‘guiding’ here, my love— I’ve never been a mother before either. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Zhongli melts. How do you always know just how to tickle his heart with the most innocuous of statements?

“And that is exactly why I’m not nervous— because we’ll have each other to both learn from and learn alongside. I’ve spent the vast majority of my life being the teacher and not the student, so opportunities to learn with you excite me.”

All you can do is hide your face with your free hand, your cheeks warm and your grin obvious. Your husband chuckles and kisses a line down the bottom half of your tummy, down your hips, and all the way down, down, down until he runs into the fabric of your panties.

“I’ve read that intimacy during pregnancy has an array of positive effects for a mother,” Zhongli notes, gently sliding a hand down to tug your panties to the side. “We’ll have to try every last tip and wives’ tale, won’t we, my love?”

diluc

Completely opposite to that of Zhongli, Diluc’s perspective on celebratory sex on Mother’s Day is that it’s about as tired, cliche, and lazy as celebratory sex on a birthday, New Year’s Eve, or Valentine’s Day. Really, any other holiday where people feel the need to either supplement their actual present with sex because they fear what they really bought their spouse just isn’t good enough on its own or because they forgot to get them a present entirely.

Or so he says.

He’s always been of the opinion that love and intimacy expressed on a random day of the year without any special meaning bears more weight than celebratory holiday sex— why should sex be included as part of the celebratory experience when a married couple is expected to regularly display intimacy towards one another? You’ve teased him about this cynical, grumpy take plenty of times, but you’ve almost come to agree with him regardless— it’s hard to even have the energy for sex at the end of your birthday or on the evening of Valentine’s Day when you’re just so exhausted by everything Diluc planned for you during the day. Perhaps it’s entirely because he doesn’t take special occasions lightly that he sees no need to end the day on a cliche.

Well, there’s a first for everything.

“I thought you don’t do celebratory sex,” you whimper with a sharp inhale. You had meant for the statement to sound more teasing and alluring, but it’s damn near impossible to keep your composure when your husband’s spent the past hour and a half between your legs.

Diluc, for the first time in ninety minutes, actually pulls away from your slick, saliva-coated pubic mound to stare up at you over your tummy. How amusing— this is the smallest he’ll see your tummy for the next nine months, and something tells him he’s not going to miss it whatsoever.

“We’ve never celebrated Mother’s Day before simply because you were never a mother for any of them. Today is different— and of course this news deserves celebration.” That’s right— you did mention to Diluc that you’re pregnant this morning over breakfast, didn’t you?

You take advantage of this impromptu break to make eye contact with your husband, who hasn’t looked this… disheveled in quite some time. Bangs plastered to his forehead, nose and chin dripping with a mix of saliva and your fluids, and pupils blown wide with desire, this is a Diluc you don’t get to see very often— and you know how to revel in the treat.

“Making exceptions to your own rules doesn’t suit you.” There, that one actually sounded teasing.

He offers a sort of shrug in response. “I’d have to be devoid of all emotion entirely to not want to celebrate my wife’s body when she tells me it’s pregnant with our very first child.” He glides his soaked lips down the inside of your thighs elegantly and with purpose, taking care to stop just before where thigh meets labia to really relish in your scent.

“Besides,” Diluc murmurs. “I’d like to map out how your body looks now so I can properly appreciate how much lovelier you’ll look once you begin to actually show how well I’ve bred you.”

gorou

Gorou tentatively asks you to repeat yourself just to make sure that he heard you properly, which carries a good amount of irony given his exceptionally superhuman hearing. He just wants to make sure he heard you properly— telling him you’re pregnant on Mother’s Day? He can’t think of anything more perfect than that, so it’d be a shame if he just imagined you saying it— he’s dreamed of being a father for so long now that if you were to hit him with a “gotcha” now, he might faint from disappointment.

Realistically, he should’ve put two and two together three weeks ago, but leave it to your husband to miss something glaringly obvious without your explicit guidance or direction. It’s almost funny to think that, despite his keen sense of smell, taste, and hearing, his overprotective nature, and his well-developed common sense, it’s so easy for him to miss the elephant in the room and get distracted by something incredibly unrelated to whatever he’s supposed to be looking out for.

He should have known from the second he found himself growing more and more overprotective of you without any visible or tangible piece of evidence as to why— you weren’t sick, you weren’t injured, and you weren’t otherwise vulnerable… or so he thought. It wasn’t obvious to him at the time, but now that you’ve confirmed it for him… it makes perfect sense. His nose already knew you were pregnant then— he picked up in the slightest change in your hormone levels without even realizing it, and now that he knows you’re pregnant?

He won’t leave your side for a single moment these next nine months.

Apparently, his vow to stay by your side 24/7 started the very moment you first broke the news to him— with your husband pressed so close up against you, you wouldn’t be surprised if you two just simply combined. Gorou’s hips slap against your ass so roughly and so quickly the sound of skin making contact with skin bounces off the walls and fills your ears, almost threatening to drown out your husband’s elated rambling.

Almost, but not quite. Nothing will get him to stop talking once he’s already started running his mouth.

“I just— I’ve just wanted this for so long,” he pants, looping his hands around your thighs to press them against the front your belly. “It’s just instinct, I guess? I just— Archons— there’s no better way to spend my life than with a sweet wife and a big, big family of our cute little pups.” He’ll be sure to keep you pregnant now that the precedent has already been established— Gorou knows he’ll miss taking you doggy style when your belly gets too big to safely attempt such a position, but he’s sure he can figure out a nice, comfortable compromise.

“I’ll get lots of time off from work! It’ll be easy. I’ll spend every day taking good, good care of you and our family because that’s— that’s what good husbands do, right? I’ll get Thoma to teach me tons of nutritious meals for you because I only know how to prepare quick rations for troops,” Gorou notes with a sheepish chuckle before he hunches over your back and whimpers brokenly. Will you still be able to take his knot while you’re pregnant, or will it be too much for you? He can’t push you too far now that you’re the most delicate you’ve ever been, heavy with the promise of a big family, right?

“I love you so much,” he gasps, nails digging into your belly softly as he loses control of himself. “And I’ll be the best father possible!”

[megistusdiary]

Vampire arlecchino vampire arlecchino vampire arlecchino vampire arlecchino vampire arlecchino vampire arlecchino

(I think I want vampire arlecchino lmao)

can I get a vampire arlecchino x fem!reader whose a vampire hunter? it's an idea that's been stuck in my head for a while, and I think it's really hot

(Ty in advance, btw, i love you and your work, ty for feeing arlecchino fans such as myself)

it took me a while, but i have come to deliver 😁🙏 school and work have been draining me, but i try to post when i have the opportunity!!

also, i am glad you have been enjoying the arlecchino content as much as i love writing it ♡ i have been saving for her when i have time. let's hope she comes home early...

based vampire arlecchino idea 😻🫶 this one is a bit long, so enjoy, please ‼️ call me mr. white the way i cooked this up in one sitting instead of studying

vampire arlecchino x fem!hunter reader

dom!vampire arlecchino x sub!hunter reader (fem anatomy/pronouns)

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, enemies to lovers?, vampires, biting, blood, cunnilingus, arle makes a deal to basically kidnap you (but you are cool with it), guns and knives.

your hand twitches as it hovers over your gun, loaded with a set of silver bullets, extra in your pockets (just in case).

each step you take is cautious, calculated on these creaky floorboards. despite being older than dirt and darker than night itself, this rather extravagant mansion was well taken care of.

even the top shelves of cabinets were dust-free. despite how the owner wanted it to appear abandoned at this moment, it was obvious that was nothing more than a facade. a trap, made to pull foolish, naive "investigators" in.

luckily, you were no fool, nor were you an unsuspecting traveler. you were a trained hunter from a long line of all sorts of hunters for things that go bump in the night.

you just happened to take quite the interest in vampires from a young age. your family was more than delighted, seeing as you picked up their long-honed skills with weapons, incantations, and tricks.

usually, you would go after smaller vampire covens, just a handful living together. despite their speed and strength, your skill with your gun was remarkable. you never missed a shot, and you always brought back-up.

lately, you had been growing more bold, more confident in your skills. (so confident you would come to regret that soon enough in these very halls...)

you crept around the corner, nearly tripping over a bump in the rug. it seemed strategically placed, something you did not miss, as you placed a hand on the wall to steady yourself.

in the distance, you could see warm light in the hallway, torches on the sides lit up. you approached cautiously, still ready to hold your gun at a moment's notice.

you felt something brush you, and you nearly screamed, whipping your gun out and turning your head only to see nothing at all.

your body froze, a cold sweat building up as your head spun in every direction, looking for any shadows, ears straining to listen for any noises.

once you realized nothing was going to jump out at you, your gun was placed back on your waist, and you kept moving.

the hallway was warmer here, due to the flames, each casting a welcoming glow onto the walls and floors. at the end of the hallway was a beautiful ballroom.

the entire room was lit up, chandeliers on the ceiling, glittering as if coated in diamonds. tables were placed meticulously around the room, but only one was set.

you approached it cautiously, seeing an envelope on the table. your fear skyrocketed when you saw this envelope was addressed to you.

with a shaky hand, you picked it up, turning it over to see a red seal keeping it shut. after popping it open, you pulled the letter out.

it was written it what could only be described as elegant penmanship. each letter looked as if it had flown directly out of the pen itself, curved perfectly. the letter merely stated the obvious.

you were an unwelcome guest in her home, though it was no use to attempt to escape now. you were the mouse, and this vampire was the cat.

the letter was signed from 'the knave,' smelling subtly of perfume and quick to fall from your hands and onto the floor. you began to tremble, eyes darting all around the room to find your now captor.

you moved to grab your gun this time, holding it out as you slowly moved across the ballroom, startled when music began to play.

"you can't leave quite yet, i'm afraid, little mouse." a low voice called out. her tone was rather neutral, giving nothing away as you turned to the direction of the sound.

"show yourself, demon!" you called out, being met with dry laughter.

"i'm not so sure you could handle seeing me just yet." the voice hums from another direction.

"oh, really? why's that?" you knew you were pushing your luck. but what else was there to do now? you were trapped inside this vampire's home, and even if you managed to run, she would surely hear every clumsy footstep and every pant from your lips.

the vampire merely laughed again, sounding almost bored. "well, if you're so curious, you'll have to owe me a dance. it's such a shame i don't get to use this room very often."

heels clicked on the floor, and your head whipped to face the vampire.

your face felt hot when you saw her for the first time.

she was gorgeous...in a dangerous way. she was tall, dressed neatly in a crisply pressed suit. the front was open, showing off the shape of her breasts towards the center of her chest. she was draped in expensive but classy jewelry; all diamonds, of course. ah, and she was toned beneath that suit, quite evident each time she moved.

"oh? not what you were expecting?" she tilts her head. her voice carries a lilt of amusement, despite her face not matching that.

your arm shook as you held your gun, taking a small step back.

"why don't you put that gun down? give your arm a rest. you're not going to shoot me." she called out, moving closer.

"what makes you so sure?" you challenge her, but when you go to pull the trigger- "no-"

"what's the matter? go on, pull out your backup dagger, sweetheart. i'll count to five. i'm nothing if not a gracious host."

"no...no no no no!" you mumble, fiddling with your gun helplessly to the sound of her countdown before you threw it to the side, the metal clattering noisily on the floor.

"that temper..." she tutted, and in the blink of an eye she stood behind you. before you could move, she grabbed your hands, positioning them around her neck. her hands were pure black, complete with sharp nails, indicating they were not gloves at all.

she peered down at you, x-shaped pupils sending a chill through your spine. she pulled you to dance with her, enjoying every bead of sweat building up on your forehead, every little whimper with each dangerously fast step, the darting of your eyes across the room.

her lips finally quirked up into a ghost of a smile. "i do hope, for your sake, you didn't think me as easy as those amateur vampires you hunt. you remember, don't you?"

"how did you know about them-"

"apart from the fact that word spreads fast through our kind," she leans down, lips barely brushing the shell of your ear. "i know everything there is to know about you."

her whispers are cold against your ear, sending shivers through your body.

"you may think yourself a hunter, but i regret to inform you that you've become my prey this time." she spins you around elegantly, catching you with ease on just one arm.

"that's not possible-" you begin to protest, but sharp nails against your throat shut you up.

"this moment is much nicer without your incessant complaints." she warns, slowly moving her nails away.

the minute the song finishes, she lets go, watching you stumble backwards into one of the tables. "and so it seems, we've come to an end. what a shame. i was hoping you'd have more fight in you." she taps her chin.

you struggle to catch your breath, fear finally settling in. you reach down, pulling your last-resort silver dagger from your boot, slashing it towards her.

you manage to catch her by surprise, nicking her cheek and slicing a small cut, watching her deep red blood slowly drip down her pale skin.

she reaches a hand up to catch the blood, looking over at you. in a matter of seconds, you find yourself on the floor, the vampire on your chest as she holds your wrist down with ease.

she forces the knife out of your hand, enjoying your helpless noises of frustration. "you're a pathetic excuse for a hunter." is all she says. "it's a pity you're so pretty." she sighs.

despite everything, you can't manage to look in her eyes after this. she quickly picks up on that, tossing the knife aside carelessly. "do my words unsettle you, little mouse?" she smirks ever so slightly, leaning down.

the cut on her cheek has already healed, and she knows you're looking at it with confusion. "silver doesn't do anything to creatures like me, i'm afraid." she tuts. "i'm not so sure i could bear to part with you as it is right now. i don't think i could allow you to pass on without having a little taste."

you immediately struggle against her. "you- you bastard! get the hell off of me!" but it's too late. she can hear each beat of your heart, and she knows the difference between trepidation and... excitement.

she leans down, inhaling your scent from your neck, her sharp fangs running across your throat. "be a good girl and hold still for me." she mumbles against your skin.

she places a soft kiss on your skin, hearing you let out a breathy whine, causing her to give you one of her rare grins against your throat.

and then, her fangs sink in deep, indulging in your pained yelps and squirming. "fuck-" you cry out, feeling her hand grip both of yours tighter, holding your wrists down firmly.

the hand tilting your head caresses your jaw almost sweetly while she drinks from you until you grow woozy. "no more- please- can't-" you mumble, and much to your shock, she pulls away.

her lips are coated in your blood, flushed red as she shows off her blood-covered fangs. "it seems i was right, you do taste rather divine." she seems to ponder something briefly, lost in her own world as she looks off to the side. "hm...i'll tell you what. are you still with me, little mouse?" she lightly taps your cheek, watching you blink up at her.

"what...?" you ask tiredly.

"let's make a deal, just between us." she proposes. "i don't want to have to kill you, so i'll make this as simple for you as i can manage." she caresses your cheek, nails lightly scratching your sensitive skin. "you will live, but you will never leave here. not until i'm fully satisfied with you." she hums, smoothing a hand down your face.

"you... want to kidnap me?" you ask her, brows furrowed. "i don't understand-"

"i want you all to myself." she suddenly says, seeming rather serious. "let me have you... give me all of yourself, and i will graciously allow you to live under my care here."

you freeze up, staring up at her, unsure of what to say. "i... and if i refuse?"

"would you prefer decapitation or-"

"okay, i understand!" you cut her off immediately, eyes wide with fear. "there... you are not giving me any other choice... so...i accept."

she snorts lightly. "don't act so innocent. i can practically smell you leaking for me." and those are the words that set your face ablaze.

"excuse me?" you gawk. "that- that's absurd-"

"i think the last thing you want to do right now is argue with me, little mouse. i can hear your heart. i've already memorized patterns of fear...of anger..." she leans down, breathing against your cheek, "of lust." she whispers softly.

"there is no point in lying to me, so why don't you be a good girl for me, and," she stands up, yanking you with her, "follow me."

she pulls you like a little puppy through the hallways, off to what appears to be her chambers. she lets go of your sore wrists only to toss you on her bed. the sheets are red and silky beneath you.

instead of joining you on the bed, she sits in an armchair near the foot of the luxurious bed, one leg crossed over the other. "undress for me. go on." she hums, seeming amused.

you sit frozen for a moment until she snaps her fingers, and you slowly pull your clothes off. once you get to your undergarments, you shyly sit before her.

"those too." she orders, eagerly watching you slip them off until you sit bare on the bed in front of her. "good girl. crawl to me, come here." she crooks a finger, watching you crawl to her, looking rather embarrassed as you kneel on the bed.

she stands up, approaching you and slowly kneeling down on the floor. her face is level with your thighs, and she pushes you onto your back, unceremoniously yanking you closer to her. clawed fingers dig into your thighs as she pulls them over her shoulders.

"you should know something about me before we begin." she mumbles against your thigh. "you'll refer to me as arlecchino, is that understood?"

"yes-" your voice is shaky and breathy, and she nods. the first kiss she presses on your thigh is dangerously close to your pussy, and it has your hips jumping up to chase her lips.

once she moves to kiss your clit, she smirks slightly at the breathy sigh of her name escaping your lips. she decided it sounded just perfect coming from you. so sweet despite it coming from someone trained to kill her kind.

lucky for her, it didn't seem you were prepared for her variant at all. what a shame. now you'd never finish your training.

not that you seem to care with the way her lips are wrapping around your clit. you think you'd be much happier underneath her than holding a knife to her throat anyways.

"a-arlecchino, more...please-" you beg her.

being the generous host she is, she gives you exactly what you asked for, lapping over your clit.

she slides her tongue further down, teasing your entrance with the tip, slipping in slightly before pulling away.

"please!" your voice grows whiny, and she leans up to look at your face. the way you look so pathetic is everything to her. your eyes meet hers, glassy with unshed tears. "need more, please?" you ask her so kindly...

she kneels back down, nipping at your thigh almost playfully before she dives back in. the way her tongue moves so sinfully against your cunt has your back arching.

your nipples are painfully hard, perking up and begging for attention from her as you pant. her nails dig into your thighs, but you don't even register the pain.

every so often, her tongue darts over to your thigh, licking up the blood beading from the shallow punctures she created in your skin. she lets out soft, deep groans into you, making your body tremble as your own hips move against her mouth.

"yes, yes, fuck- close, i'm so close-" you begin to ramble.

"beg for it. beg for me to allow you to cum." she simply tells you. despite her tone being rather sultry, it is a warning in itself.

"please! let me- let me cum, please, please, arlecchino-" you could've never imagined begging a vampire to allow your body to do what it wants. you felt so embarrassed, but too far gone to really care.

"go on." she urges, carrying you through your orgasm. she indulges in your little 'thank you's afterwards, kissing your clit softly, enjoying your overstimulated twitching.

she leans up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before moving to sit in her armchair. she spreads her thighs, starting to unbuckle her belt, beckoning you over. "come here, come get your reward."

[madxyy]

Selfish

| pairing : peter x reader

| summary: your boyfriend comes home injured--as usual--late at night and you can't help but want him safe from his life as spider-man

| warnings: fluff, touching wrists (sigh, again), y/n used once, baby used, peter being cute and angsty as usual, reader also being cute, light angst

author's note: i am trying to write angst so bare with me lol

2 am. 

It’s always when you hear that faint knock on your window that makes all your worries wash away in a split second. But not today, no, today was different. You were waiting all night to hear that thud on the firescape or the cries of the window seal being opened. All night you were absorbed in your own anxieties and worries. Your hopes were dreading as time went by. You were getting scared for the local crime fighting hero and you did everything in your power to take your mind off it.

You really did. 

Drawing, watching tv, listening to music, cleaning the room—which was a bad idea as it just bought you a reminder of the boy who has your heart. You would stumble upon Peter's belongings that were scattered around your shared apartment like confetti: his engineering notes, his sweaters, his latest sketch of a brilliant idea he had to improve his spider-man suit. It only made your heart ache even more, longing for his presence and increasing your worries for your vigilante boyfriend. So you would take another route and try binge-watching a new season of a recent tv show you are watching, which would likely just be collecting dust in the column of ‘continue watching.’

Your mind keeps on going back to him. ‘He’s okay. He’s okay.’ You thought to yourself. ‘He’s coming back to me. He’ll be alright. He’s probably on his way right now. It’s just going to be a scratch, hopefully. He's going to be okay, right? Oh god. Oh god.’ 

As much as you love and adore that your boyfriend is helping the city and its people by saving anyone from another lab experiment gone wrong or from a dangling car that’s about to fall off a bridge, you can't help but wonder if he would ever take care of himself. It’s hard seeing him everytime he comes through your window with a new bruise on his keen jawline, a wound on his ribs, a scar on his hip. You couldn’t deal with it anymore. You wish he stopped just for his own safety. You know it’s selfish but is it so wrong to want him safe? Just the thought of turning on the news and seeing J. Jameson reporting: “Breaking News: Our local friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man reported dead by …” 

You want him back with you already, his arms wrapped around you, drowning you into his warm embrace, so distinctly Peter, while he whispers soft and reassuring words that always mend your heart. You long to hear his random facts about science, see his lopsided smile that always welcomes you back into reality whenever you wake up next to him each morning. You yearn for his contagious laugh that makes your heart throb in delight over the euphonious sound. You want to smile at the tics he does when he gets nervous or the way he avoids eye contact and scratches the back of his neck when he is stuck in an awkward situation. You want him to be back so you can smooch the newly embedded scars that are planted all over his body which you love kissing away everyday when he wakes up. You want to see his dimples that adorn his face when he smiles wide enough because he finally got his web shooters to work, followed by a triumph fist bump to the air. You want to see his eyes, oh his eyes: brown, soft, autumnal, brimming with love and warmth, despite the grief and cruelty he has been absorbed in. His scent, a mix of cedarwood and asphalt (due to his high-flying urban adventures). You want to see the way his hair sticks up in the morning whilst the sun gives it a mixture of honey and bronze aura, running your hands through the mused up tufts of hair, which always leads to the corners of his eyes crinkling up as a sleepy, boyish smile tugs up on his rosy lips. 

Selfish. You can’t help it. 

You waited as long as you could; staring at your window for who knows how long. Your eyes were trained on the window for a good while, but you couldn't help it, all this anxiety finally got to you and you were feeling drained and your posture slumps with exhaustion. Your eyes burn from keeping them open, and soon those same eyes start to slowly droop. Blinking back sleepiness proved futile; your head eventually settled onto the cool silk of your pillow. The material greets your cheek, making it easier for you to be welcomed into slumber. 

It was 4 am, yet your worries haven’t gone down at all. Your eyelids started to grow heavier, and darkness gradually enveloped your senses, until you heard a faint knock on your window, piercing the silence. 

Your heart leapt, and you twisted towards the sound. In an instant, sleep was gone.

Not even a second later you heard your window opening—mm the sound of the cries. Your tired, red eyes snapped open. You were met with a disheveled and drained Peter Parker. His hair sticking to the nape of his neck and forehead, sweat giving him a post-shower appearance. A large laceration marred his chest. Oh. Your stomach dropped, eyes widened with horror at the sight of the injury. It looked like he was scratched -- no, clawed by someone or something. With quick motion, you quickly peel away the sheets, disentangling yourself from its soft embrace, and quickly hurrying to his side.

“Peter” you gasped softly. A hand settles onto his latex-clad one, the other arm wrapping around his waist to support him as you guide both him towards your bed, placing him where you had lain just seconds before. “It’s not that bad, don’t worry about it, seriously, I mean you should see the o-” Peter quickly swallows his words upon seeing your stern glare. He slumps his head downwards as he sighs in defeat. 

You sigh, telling him quietly that you'll be back soon. You left him for a few moments before coming back with a wet rag. Gently, you tug at the suit, trying to cautiously take it off him without aggravating his wounds. Soon, you were met with his bare torso, which is marked with a huge claw mark. You mentally steel yourself before starting to lightly clean around the injury, dabbing the wet rag gently onto his toned chest as you avoid his eyes. It’s not like you were trying to make him feel bad, but you were also trying to cope with the situation. You don’t know if you were mad, relieved, sad, maybe all of the above? Uncertain emotions swirl within you, but one fact anchors your turbulent thoughts: he is here, safe, and alive. That's what truly matters.

Peter seems to catch your avoided gaze, he studies you for a few minutes. Biting the inside of his cheek as he purses his lips to the side, trying to figure out how to approach this situation. He takes in your furrowed eyebrows, the way you’re also biting the inside of your cheek as you put all your strength into avoiding his worried amber eyes. He knew the consequences of inviting someone into his dangerous life, it wasn’t exactly a warm and inviting embrace, nor was it appealing, but what he didn’t fully grasp is how it truly hurts you, in more ways than one.  “Y/N…” he whispered, rough hands that have been through so much and experienced so much, reaching for the comfort of your skin but you gently dodge his touch, leading to a sudden twinge of anguish in his heart. You give him a slight smile to distinguish any suspicion – I mean, you weren’t doing a good job at it – before you continued cleaning the dirt away from his injury. Peter’s eyebrows furrow while his lips start to droop downwards, a frown laid upon his lips at the rejection. 

Biting the inside of your cheek harder to stop the tears from flowing down the curve of your cheekbones. You keep on wiping his cuts clean, overs and overs again, getting flashbacks of his visits from the last time you had to patch him up. Blurred vision starts taking over your eyesight and all you can think about is his pain, what he goes through, his blood, the thought of losing him, life without him, the many ‘what ifs.’ The many times he almost visited death's door. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was like a burning sensation bubbling in the back of your throat, the sadness was too hard to keep buried down now. You started shaking and before you knew it your sobs filled the walls and all your fears were coming out of you in the form of a liquid pea that contained so much. As soon as the warm liquid left a path down the curve of your cheeks, peter panicked and rose to action just like the hero he is—your hero. 

Quickly sitting up and fixing his posture, which made him wince slightly from the injuries but he pushed through, his mind set on you and only you. He wipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes the wet rag away from your slightly shaky grip; gently putting it on your nightstand before he lightly reaches both of his hands out and holds onto your wrists.

“I can't” You choke out a sob. 

“Hey shh it’s okay baby, what’s wrong? You can’t, what? Tell me,” He coos. 

He hunches down, trying to find those eyes of yours that he swears are otherworldly, but you just can’t. You can’t see him like this. Hurt. In pain. Suffering. It pains you that he is in this much pain -- you can’t. “Peter I just… ” he gently takes your face in his hand, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbs that are growing wet from your moist cheeks. His heart hurts from the sight of you crying, it conjures a deep-seated throb of pain in his eyes. “Look at me,” he whispers softly, gently nudging your head up with his right hand that is slowly descending down to grasp your chin as if you were a treasure, in a way you are, to peter you are his treasure, the main reason he even gets up or even tries, you are his rock, the only thing that makes sense in his life, and god does he love you, he loves you so much that his heart hurts. A quiet sigh escapes you, it sounds defeated. “Please,” He pleaded oh-so-gently, his gaze unwavering but patient. You sniffle before swallowing down a ball of saliva forming in your throat. As soon as you look up you are met with a pair of almond-shaped umber eyes that are filled with the utmost care, worry, and a hint of guilt. 

“Talk to me..” he whispers desperately, his heart crushing at the pain you are experiencing, he just wants to take it all away with his soft whispers but he knows they will be in vain. Shakingly exhaling “I can’t,” you frantically shake your head. “Please baby…” A few silent beats pass before you finally look back up to find those amber eyes looking back at you with nothing but worry and sincerity. 

You take a deep breath before swallowing deeply ”Peter...I just…” another beat passes. You take a sharp deep breath. “I just really wish you would take more care of yourself, I...I know you love saving people and fighting crime and trust me I love you deeply for that but you come home everyday with a new wound that’s even deadlier than the last one,” You pause, licking your salty lips. “aren’t you worried that maybe those people that you save won’t have anyone to save them if they’re local neighborhood spider-man won’t be there to save them anymore..?” You ask him, almost in a plea. Peter bites the inside of his cheek, thinking over your words with a solemn expression forming on his face that are littered in small cuts from his last escapades. He diverts his gaze to the floor and the room is quickly overcome with silence as he takes in your words, letting the heaviness of your words sink in.

The silence fills the room, it lets you both engulf into your own thoughts. Peter knew what it meant when he finally told you he was the unmasked superhero. He remembers spilling his deadly secret on a rooftop late at night, where you both were admiring the stars, laying on a blanket and talking about anything and everything. He remembers looking over at you and admiring the way the moon was cascading down on you, making you look even more angelic and completely ethereal. 

Peter looks at you hurt and guilty and god do you hate that. Both of you guys shared a gaze that held so much that it made the room feel denser as the distant sounds of ambulances filtered through the slightly open window. A breeze wafts in, brushes against you both, causing small goosebumps to prick up on your skin. Peter grew to learn from his past relationships and the impact it had on his partner knowing he was Spider-Man, which is why it hurts him to know he is the one making you feel like this. A calloused hand slowly creeps up, gently grasping your cheek with the utmost care, as if you were made of glass and he was scared of causing further harm. “I know, I know,” He murmurs, his voice breaking while his toughened fingers absentmindedly traces the curve of your cheek. “It’s just so hard to stop when I know I can make a difference.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat as his words sink in. Your heart breaks knowing how much his words are true and the scary reality that he won’t stop until crime is put to bed and everyone can roam around the streets freely. You shook your head, one hand gently grasping his wrist. “But at what price, Pete?” you ask ever-so-softly like the question itself was forbidden territory. Those eyes that he loves so deeply, look up into his eyes and it causes a gnawing feeling in his chest, almost making him wince from how hurt you look, how scared you look. Peter bites the inside of his cheek a bit harder while furrowing his brows, trying to think of what to tell you because he himself doesn’t know.

He takes a shaky breath, adjusting the grip on your face and slowly pulling your head a bit closer until both of your foreheads are resting against one another, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. The brush of skin itself was tender-filled, telling a millions of words with just one movement. “I am just sick of all the crimes happening here and the cops not even doing anything about it.” Peter whispered, his voice a low blend of anger and helplessness. You could feel the raggedness of his breath, each exhale a testament to the battles he fought alone in the shadows of the city. The close proximity allowed you to see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his eyes shuttered as if bracing against a storm of inner conflict. “Peter, I know you care – it’s one of the things I love about you,” you respond gently, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his clammy forehead. “But you can’t carry this burden alone. It’s too much for one person, even for Spider-Man.” Your voice was a soothing whisper, trying to pierce the armor of duty he wore so steadfastly.  

Peter simply nodded, the weight of the world momentarily lightened by your understanding. You saw the fortress around his heart crumbling, if only just a bit. His eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, now shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the constant battle between his duty and his love for you.

“I’m sorry…” Peter’s voice broke through the silence, each word heavy with remorse. He leans forwards, delicately kissing your forehead which grounds you and makes you close your eyes momentarily as you cherish the soft kiss that eases your heart just a bit. “I am sorry for not fully understanding what you are going through. I am so, so sorry,” He whispers into the dark night, the words flowing into the air as gently as ever. A few beats of silence pass while you take in his words. It gave your weary heart time to mend. Peter leaned back slightly so he could get a better look at you, his gaze locked with yours, conveying a depth of sincerity and vulnerability. “I’m truly, deeply, sorry” He whispers once more before he starts to softly press kisses underneath where your ear and jaw meet, your cheeks, forehead, nose, the wrinkles in the middle of your eyebrows, smoothing them out with the pad of his thumb, and finally kissing your lips, so delicately, it makes you want to cry even more. 

The kiss was so deliberate, it was a bundle of promises that his lips sealed to keep, an abundance of love, tenderness, deep affection and care that runs so deeply into his veins that it affects his touches and kisses, he can’t help but pour it all into the kiss, he just wanted you to know how sorry he is. He wanted you to know that he never meant to hurt you, whether it was indirect or direct. It makes your heart flutter and reassures your timid heart. Slowly one hand moves to cup the left side of your face as his other hand descends down towards the side of your neck as peter tastes the saline on your moist-tear lips, but even that doesn’t stop him from pressing gentle kisses against your lips, it only fuels his love, turning the kisses even more tender. Each kiss conveys a message of “I’m sorry, I love you, please know I love you.” You can taste the metallic on his lips as your lips were caressing his back as equally gently and lovingly, your kisses filled with a message of “It’s okay, I love you.” 

Peter slowly pulls back from the kiss, his mouth hovers over yours, his breath fanning over your lips, noses rubbing against each other in the tenderest manner ever. Both of your eyes were still closed, taking in everything, cherishing one another. His right hand moving back up to cradle your face, both hands cradling your cheeks and caressing them with the pad of his thumbs in a feather-like caress. You nuzzle your cheek against his right hand, feeling the rough and calloused palm that you grew to admire and adore. It always provided you with such care and comfort, always caressing or reaching out to gently touch you. Both of your hands now encircled around his wrist, caressing the inside of it so softly that it makes Peter almost melt.

Slowly, Peter opens his eyes. His amber gaze held nothing but love and the utmost care. Shortly after he opened his eyes, your eyes opened as well. Both of you search each other’s eyes as a white noise of admiration passes you both. After a moment of silent communion, the air between you both thickens with unspoken words and shared feelings, Peter finally speaks, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet room. “I can’t promise there won’t be more nights like this,” he says, his honesty laying bare the truth of both of your lives entwined with danger and uncertainty. “But I promise you, no matter how many crazy guys in suits I have to fight, I’ll always do my best to come back… to this, to us.”

This promise, simple yet profound, strikes a chord within you. It’s not a heroic declaration from Spider-Man, but a heartfelt vow from Peter Parker, the boy behind the mask, the one you fell in love with. His words acknowledge the reality of his life—danger is part of the package, yet he’s equally committed to your shared life, to you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

You feel a surge of mixed emotions: fear for the dangers he faces, gratitude for his honesty, and love for the person he is. “And I’ll be here,” you say, matching his tone with a blend of seriousness and affection, “not just to patch you up and be your personal nurse, but to love you.” The corners of his lips quirk up, his eyes twinkling with love as he takes in your words. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a silent vow of his commitment. “Thank you,” he whispers, gratitude resonating in his voice, “for everything.”

“Of course,” You whispered. 

The two of you stay like that, embraced in the warmth of your love for one another, finding comfort in the silence that now speaks volumes. The world outside, with its chaos and challenges, seems momentarily distant as you both cherish this safe haven of understanding and love you’ve created together.

[leonslutkennedeeznuts]

Afternoon Delight | Leon x Fem!Reader

Leon wanted to say something smooth, a pickup line to really seal in the deal but instead he said “I think I’m too old for you actually. I’m sorry about all this.”

You didn’t seem fazed, almost amused by him even. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, Leon,” you admitted. You leaned down, your breasts almost exposed to him now in your teeny tiny bikini top.

“Actually,” you continued, taking in the sight of him, his blond locks, that gorgeous half smirk on his face, “I really like older men.” (AO3)

Leon was resting in the hammock, eyes closed behind his shades, drink in hand as he idly swayed. His first vacation in almost two years and Leon couldn’t believe his luck. The room not only had its own private pool but a hot tub as well with views of the ocean. If only he had someone to share it all with, he thought to himself almost bitterly. No, he refused to let his mind go there. He was 100% officially done with all the games and the chase. This was his first vacation as a single man. Leon was going to make the most of it.

When the idea of having amazing sex on vacation first crossed his mind, he shook it off. He was a relationship guy, he reasoned to himself, despite all the very attractive scantily clad women eyeing him at his every turn. It was only his first night. If the opportunity presented itself, Leon wouldn’t say no but the odds of a woman making the first move was slim to none, he reasoned.

That’s when you came along. He was walking past the swim up pool bar when it happened. Like a lion watching its prey, Leon couldn’t take his eyes off of your wet taunt body splashing around as you waited for whatever fruity drink the bartender offered to create just for you. Hey, he couldn’t blame you- endless drinks was the main reason he gave in when Hunnigan offered him this getaway.

Your bikini should’ve been illegal. It was downright sinful. Leon had vaguely heard of a g-string bikini but had never seen one in action. Nothing was covered back there it seemed. If someone had told him that your bikini bottoms were made with colored floss, he’d have believed it. You were gorgeous, full of laughter and soon to be full of the rainbow colored liquor you were sipping on.

Almost frozen in place, Leon felt like a coward. He’d done this song and dance before, for years actually, so he knew how to approach a woman (one very specific woman). The only problem was that he’d only been with one woman. Picking up a stranger at a bar, at a resort and fucking like rabbits- he wasn’t that type of guy but damn you made him want to be.

He was kind of hungry actually, but now Leon had a newfound hunger for something else- you. He felt like a pervert. You couldn’t be more than 23 years old. Young, beautiful, at the prime of your life with no idea he was going to be stroking himself later to this visual. Leon could be a gentleman and ask you to accompany him to dinner. Sure, the food was free too but it was the thought that counted.

The resort had an upscale steakhouse- he could wine and dine you the way he was raised to treat a woman but his cock was starting to get hard the more you jumped around in the pool, your breasts almost threatening to spill out in front of everyone. Leon had to get out of there before he came in his pants.

Yeah, it had been a while since he’d gotten some and apparently he was too much of a coward to just approach you. What if you thought he was a dirty old man?

Leon sipped his watered down whiskey on the rocks and started to walk away before he caught a glimpse of you getting out of the water. You locked eyes with him and the world stood still. From the look on your face you didn’t seem disgusted at his obvious gawking. He even saw you lick your lips and wink at him before grabbing a beach towel and lightly dabbing at your skin, making no real effort to dry off.

“Hey,” he heard your voice call out. Leon looked around to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Yeah, you over there!” You sauntered over to him seated at his lounge chair. Your smile made it very clear that you were on to him.

His cheeks couldn’t get more red. “Look, I was just staring off into space. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She’s probably going to call security and complain about the gross old man lusting after her, he thought. “I’m Leon, by the way.”

You reached out to shake his hand as you introduced yourself to him. “I’m Y/N. What are you up to later, Leon? I’m here all week.”

All week. He had the chance to see you and possibly be with you and inside you all week.

Leon wanted to say something smooth, a pickup line to really seal in the deal but instead he said “I think I’m too old for you actually. I’m sorry about all this.”

You didn’t seem fazed, almost amused by him even. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, Leon,” you admitted. You leaned down, your breasts almost exposed to him now in your teeny tiny bikini top.

“Actually,” you continued, taking in the sight of him, his blond locks, that gorgeous half smirk on his face, “I really like older men.”

—-----------

After your bold statement, Leon had awkwardly laughed before blurting out “I’d feel less awkward if you’d let me take you to dinner,” fully intending to be a gentleman and make a reservation at the steakhouse. You had agreed and made plans to meetup at his hotel suite. Leon was sitting on the edge of his bed wrapped in a towel not believing his luck. Day 1 of vacation and he was almost guaranteed to get laid.

He’d never been with a younger woman before, never really dated anyone in the true, honest sense.

“Just make it through dinner,” he whispered to himself. “What if she thinks I’m some sugar daddy type,” he thought to himself out loud. He totally would be for you.

The knocking on the door brought Leon out of his thoughts. You were here. You were going to go to dinner together, talk, potentially get along great and let nature take its course so he could feel like less of a cradle robber.

“Y/N, you’re here early,” he remarked, gesturing to the towel wrapped around his waist. “I haven’t gotten dressed yet, is something the matter?”

At first he’d been confused as to why you’d shown up in just the robe included in your room, convinced that you’d changed your mind and was here to tell him off. It was only after you removed your robe that he realized what was happening.

If he thought your bikini was sinful, this dress was the actual sin. It was a sexy red mesh that left nothing to the imagination. And he had imagined you naked and crying his name in the shower just a few minutes before.

“I was thinking we’d skip right to dessert.”

He had you naked and on your back within seconds.

—- “Oh, fuck Leon, fuck me,” you moaned as you put both hands on the back of his head, refusing to let him come up for air as he devoured your pussy.

Leon felt like a virgin all over again. He was amazed at how your body moved, the way you moaned and called out his name without abandon, grinding your pussy into his eager mouth, hands going from gripping the sheets to gripping his hair.

It was almost like his first time- his first one night stand or summer fling. He didn’t know what the future held but right now in this moment, you grinding into his mouth, he swore he could die happy.

You were bossy, demanding and bratty. Your mouth was filthy. He loved it. He couldn’t wait to see you unravel as you came on his tongue. Leon made that his mission, his eyes fixated on your face (what he could see of it from this angle), to make you cum hard screaming and thrashing in his bed.

“Uh huh, eat my fucking pussy, yes just like tha-” Your back arched and instead of licking at your clit, Leon started sucking it as your cum covered his mouth, his chin and jaw. “I’m cumming, Leon,” you brokenly screamed.

He felt you pulling at his hair then trying to push him away but he grabbed your thighs and kept them apart as they quivered near his ears. “Mhmm, that’s right, eat my cum, daddy.

Leon almost came right then and there. He’d never been called ‘Daddy’ before, never thought he’d be into it but he felt powerful hearing it roll off your tongue in your blissed out haze. He couldn’t wait to feel you hot, wet and pulsating around his cock calling him ‘Daddy’ as he made you squirt.

“Daddy, hmm,” he teasingly inquired, finally coming up for air. His cock was achingly hard. Thank God he’d jacked off earlier or he’d have cum the second you started stroking him.

The moment he had the back of your knees on his shoulders, sliding into you inch by inch, memorizing the look on your face as your eyes rolled back into your head- he’d never see anything else in his wet dreams for as long as he lived.

“Harder,” you ordered him, already feeling fucked out and close to cumming. “Fuck me harder, Daddy.”

Your neon pink painted nails dug into Leon’s ass, trying to force him even deeper. You couldn’t get enough of his thick cock stretching you so deliciously. You made a mental note to attempt deep throating him later.

Leon kept pounding into you like his life depended on it. He wanted, no, he needed to make you cum on his dick. To prove to himself mostly that as he was getting up in age that he still had it, that he could move on, still have amazing sex and be attractive to other women after all the bullshit he'd dealt with before.

Okay so maybe he was getting insecure about being in his late 30s, 36 to be exact, but the way you were milking his dick with your tight pussy more than eased his doubts.

“Yes, yes, Leon, make me cum please.”

Your voice brought him back to the reality that he had a very willing, horny and attractive young woman about to squirt in his bed, begging him to fuck her.

“Cum for me, baby, be a good girl for Daddy,” he grunted out before your squeals turned into heavy breathing and panting as your nails scratched up and down his back, his ass and shoulders. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re gorgeous.”

You had brought out the animal in him, satiated his sexual appetite like never before. Now he was back to kissing you all over, your soft lips, your neck and your amazing breasts that he definitely wanted to do a titty fuck with.

“God, I don’t think I can walk after that,” you quipped after he’d cleaned you both up after his cum had started to ooze out of your swollen pussy, a view Leon clearly enjoyed. “I feel like I’m about to pass out,” you said before yawning, snuggling into his embrace.

He was hot, older (a huge plus for you), had a nice cock and made you cum harder than you ever had as evidenced by the wet spot you left behind. You felt beyond lucky.

Leon gave you another kiss, this time slipping his tongue into your mouth letting you taste yourself.

“Mmm, me too,” he admitted. Leon found himself idly stroking your arms as you cuddled into him. It had been too long since he’d had a moment like this and he wanted to savor it. “We can take a shower together afterwards and still make it to dinner later, if you want to, Y/N.”

You gave him a quick peck and pulled the comforter up, the A/C kicking on at just the right time.

“I’d love that, Leon.”

This was going to be a very good vacation, the both of you thought before drifting off to sleep.

[nihilo-sensei]

The Infamous Chuuya-SSKK Car Ride

Two. Fucking. Hours.

Akutagawa and Atsushi have been arguing for two hours almost non-stop and there's still an hour to go in the trip. If you had asked Chuuya before he climbed into this four-wheeled prison what the most annoying thing on Earth was, he would've said without hesitation that it was dealing with Dazai. That was a more innocent time, a time before life had decided to punish him for his every felony, misdemeanor, and wasted gallon of milk. He wasn't sure if these apparently nuclear-powered bickering machines being confined to the backseat was better or worse for him. Probably better; at least one half of the invective wasn't being spewed directly into his left ear.

As much as he wanted to blame a member of the Armed Detective Agency for all of his misery, he was disappointed to say that it had been his subordinate and fellow mafioso who started this. Granted it hadn't taken much to get the weretiger to dive down to Akutagawa's level, but he was just trying to make conversation, asking if Chuuya listened to much music. Honestly, the gravity manipulator would've been delighted to spend a three-hour car ride talking about music, even with an ADA member. It was kind of nice that the kid had reached for some common ground between them. Akutagawa really hadn't needed to cut Chuuya off before he had a chance to answer by saying, "No one cares, weretiger." That one admittedly rude remark had sealed Chuuya's fate for the rest of the ride out to the countryside. Thanks, Aku.

"You better not get in my way when we get there, weretiger. The Port Mafia doesn't need Least Beneath the Moonlight."

"I guess I'll leave the job to Brash-ōmon, then. Get over yourself."

How are they still coming up with new insults? Chuuya hadn't even had the energy to tell them to shut the fuck up passed the 35-minute mark, about 25 minutes after his throat started to hurt from trying to match their combined volume. It was like they didn't even hear him. They were in their own little world together.

That was what he'd been warned about, though, wasn't it? Akutagawa and the tiger boy had… tension. He had heard about it from Dazai, but hadn't given it much thought. After all, why would he bother listening to anything that mummy's asshole says off the battlefield? He would happily throw Dazai off a building if he wasn't sure it would make that freak even happier than it would make Chuuya. Something about this train of thought makes Chuuya feel like a hypocrite for some reason. Where was he?

"At least I don't dip my bangs in Wite-Out!"

"Your impoverished ass could only afford one bang!"

Oh right, this thick fog of something making itself at home in Chuuya's backseat and inside his pounding skull. He had thought it was just a joke or an exaggeration, but this much passion for each other? Could all of that really just be simple hate? No, this doesn't really feel like hate. But if they don't hate each other why tell themselves that they do? That's so self-destructive. They should just confront their feelings like adults. Even if those feelings aren't romantic they could still find themselves good friends, they have a lot in common. At least they'd stop making their sexual tension or whatever everyone else's problem.

Why does Chuuya feel like a hypocrite again?

—

Chuuya stares into the rear-view mirror. The new Double Black had practically passed out five minutes into the drive to Yokohama. Not surprising after the mission had turned out to be far more complicated then they had anticipated. He wasn't complaining, he really couldn't deal with another three hours of angry sound waves bouncing around an enclosed space. Truthfully, they'd earned the rest. Even when the situation was going to shit they'd worked well together. Atsushi kept Akutagawa's mind on the civilians while Akutagawa's support kept Atsushi calm and focused. Chuuya sees now why Dazai put them together, not that Chuuya would ever openly tell the man he was right.

So he'd let the pair sleep, only debating whether he should wake them up after the blessedly silent car had crossed the Yokohama city limit. He had glanced into the mirror and caught sight of something that made him suddenly redirect as much attention as he safely could to it. The Sun had set halfway through the drive so he had had to wait for the car to pass the next street light to get a good look at it, and sure enough he saw exactly what he thought he had. At some point in the drive Atsushi and Akutagawa had leaned into each other while they slept. Atsushi's head was now resting on Akutagawa's shoulder while the mafioso's head rested on top of the weretiger's. Chuuya smiled. Definitely not hate.

As the car nears the ADA office, where Atsushi was to be dropped off, Chuuya pulls into a gas station with a new mission in mind. After he puts the car in park he takes out his phone and hopes that fatigue keeps the pair asleep and unaware while he does what needs to be done. He gambles on using the flash and wins a nice, clear picture that's going to absolutely make his fucking day the next time Akutagawa decides to make him sit through another "that goddamn foolish weretiger" rant. But was it really fair to make just Akutagawa suffer when Atsushi was about as responsible for Chuuya's three-hour ordeal earlier? No. And isn't the ADA all about that justice shit?

Chuuya opens his text thread with Dazai, taps his thumbs to the screen a few times, and hands down Atsushi's sentence with the push of 'Send'. He only has to wait a few seconds before the weretiger's irritating superior responds.

Mackerel (21:04): Oh my god, thank you so much for this! How useful my dog is becoming!

You (21:04): I seriously can't do this with you right now, Dazai. Those little bastards almost wiped me out on the way to the mission. They argued the entire time. I'm fucking tired.

Mackerel (21:05): Impressive, isn't it?

"Impressive" was one way of putting it. "Never gonna happen again" was another.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Rsa vs Nrc

Riddle vs Alex ( twst Alice Leddle )

Crewel daughter and Riddle are together in town and talking about something they both can relate, as in art and history and Crewel stay closed to Riddle

Malleus + Disomia vs Price Phillips ( twst of that price from sleeping beauty)

Crewel daughter invited Malleus and his friends/bodyguards as she needs help as she have a client of a foreign land to asked to restore agroot ( decorative gargoyle) and needed his help on stone materials that are uncommonly used and she feels very uncomfortable around the human prince for obvious reasons

Idia vs Heracles ( twst of Heracles)

Crewel daughter and Idia are getting some new video games to play together ( legs say Crewle daughter is a secretly a gamer and otaku because y not? ) And she is off putting with Idia cousin and prefer to hangout with the recluse as he's more interesting to be around

RSA vs NRC w/ Crewel Daughter | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Riddle Rosehearts vs Alix Lidwelle

“As the rules state: on the designated day we shall be in attendance of the latest additions of Art in all of Twisted Wonderland.”

“And as the rules state: on the designated day we will devote are time to one another and our enjoyment to Art!” 

This is the closest Riddle equates to being a fan of anything

Its one thing to have a textbook based knowledge on images

Than to be with (Y/n) Crewel as she tilts her head at world renowned paintings

“Based.”

“Based? Why?”

“I don’t like the vibe I’m getting.”

There was nothing he loved more than looking at art with you

So much so that he even made it a rule that you two travel to different art museums together

If anything this was his day

That is until he sealed the deal…but until then this a thing

Our thing 

Now its almost ruined when the blonde comes skipping in you two’s direction

“What’ya guys doing?”

He can explain or rather you can since the student isn’t even looking at him to answer

“We are carrying out a tradition that we have done for years.”

“Tradition? That sounds..kindof boring? But you can join me for some tea if you want a break at least.”

“Tea but it isn’t even ti-”

“Come on (Y/n)!! Besides why would you want to follow the rules on a lovely day like this?”

HOW DARE HE!?

If his respect for the arts and your non reaction he would have lit the blonde on fire

Better yet behead that arrogant, stupid, idiotic–

“No. I enjoy traditions and its a shame you don’t seem to respect that.”

“W-what?!”

“Come on Riddle we have seven hours left on our ticket. Let’s not waste anymore time.”

“I agree.”

Riddle delights in the red that over takes Alix’s cheeks

And the stomping feet as he prepares to throw a tantrum

The prefect sticks a tongue out from behind your back

Smirking as he offers his arm

“Shall we commence on our adventure on the designated day?”

“As the rules state it, we shall.”

Malleus Draconia vs Prince Paul w/ Restoration Crewel Daughter Reader

You are quieter soul 

Opting to work in the silence as you restore and refurbish antiques

That’s probably why you get nervous about accepting a job at the Royal Sword Academy

So you bring support 

And who better than the one fae who enjoys gargoyles and you+

So you’ll invite him with you and he’s glowing with happiness

An invitation!

From his beloved no less 

You selfishly are quite grateful that he’s a people deterrent

Able to work on your work in peace 

That is until Paul comes

“The sound of such lovely sounds!”

“W-what?”

“Ah, and a beauty is the maker! You’ve entranced me with your sounds–”

“Sir, I don’t really–”

“But alas I have yet to introduce myself! Woe is me! The me being Paul Phillip, it has been to long since I–”

“Oh and your just going to keep talking, great.”

But leave it to your resident guard dragon to swoop in and save you

“Ah the Prince of Briar Valley what a surprise to see you here!”

“My mate…friend is uncomfortable with your presence.”

“But she hasn’t-”

“Go now.”

Be sure to convince him not to go full dragon on him

Smile and thank him 

And he’s happy 

Gargoyles, (Y/n), crushing his rivals, and courting (Y/n)

Its all the great and good times

Now you know you can trust him to protect you

Lilia says that will be enough to proves you

Aww and he was looking forward to deliver a blooody head

Idia Shroud vs Huckman  

You’re no gamer 

But your naturally skilled at everything you touch 

A perfect accessory to Idia’s high-level for multikills 

“You have three hours to beat the level, Idia don’t waste it shuddering in the corner.”

“Y-Y-YES MISTRESS!”

Once he gets in his groove your plowing through 

And since your actually lasor focused on the game

You don’t notice the way he focuses on your features

Just inches away the lips he’d dreamed of being graced with touch at the very least was so close

If he could just pretend to–

SLAM

“Whoops sorry cousin about your door.”

“Noooooooooooooo!!!!!!”

“Quiet! I’m nearly there!”

He’ll play possum as his cousin insistently shakes him

“Hey i know your not actually dead. Idia? Idia?”

Its you that intervenes making his heart go: Doki doki!

“Retriever boy leave for now I’ll deal with you later. I need him in peak condition for the next hour I’ve granted him.”

He snaps to your side immediately

Keeping his eyes glued to the screen as his cousin let’s himself out

"T-thanks!"

Now which tech-terror will he send to make sure ‘later’ never happens

[bumblekastclips]

KYLE CROUSE: Alright, we got one last question. It’s from JediPony. [chuckles] Love that name, I don’t know why. It makes me laugh. [reading question] “How would you write an 06 adaptation in Sonic X?” Here’s the question, would you write the 06 adaptation in Sonic X the show, or Sonic X the comic?

IAN FLYNN: [laughs] KYLE: It’s very— two very different things. IAN:Very different things. I don’t know, if we’re gonna be true to the source material, then Elise doesn’t really have a role, and Chris is the one who has the Flames of Disaster sealed inside him. KYLE: [laughing] Oh no! Oh! IAN: “Chris, whatever you do, you can’t cry!” [as Chris, weepily] “But why?!” [Iblis roar] KYLE: It’s all he does! [laughs] No! IAN: Oh, man, now I’m imagining Mephiles with, like, that really bad early 2000s CG effect. All these awful filters flyin’ around. KYLE: Oh, God, no! [laughing] This would be awful. IAN: You’d have, like, the budget episodes where Soleanna and New City are just, like, these flat, grey urban textures that have like, no depth, but then you get to the final episode where they’re doing the Super fight against Solaris, and the animation bump goes through the roof, and it’s glorious. And you forgive the last 26 episodes of your life that you’ve wasted watching it so far. KYLE: Mhm. IAN: [choking the words out through high pitched, wheezing laughter] This means Chris is the one that kisses Sonic back to life! [fit of maniacal laughter] KYLE: [frantic, horrified laughter] No! No! No! No! Ian, no! Ian! No! IAN: [prolonged cackling laughter] KYLE: The worst timeline! Oh, no! IAN: Oh, and Eggman has to be as close as they can get him to photorealistic Eggman in the Sonic X style. KYLE: No! IAN: Which does not work at all! KYLE: No, no, no! No! This is not going on the thumbnail! No! IAN: [wheezing laugh] KYLE: No, do not put this on the thumbnail! [laughing] IAN: Oh, my goodness, just imagine the art errors for Silver’s head alone… KYLE: Oh… no… oh, no… at least Dan Green could still be the voice of Mephiles. IAN: Oh, yeah, that’d be fantastic. [microphone glitches] That’s the only reason to do this. KYLE: That would be— yeah. Oh… IAN: Oh, would they try to hand-animate Omega? Or would he be like, early 2000s CG? KYLE: Just crappy CG, no! IAN: That you just composite into each shot… oh, man, it’d be awful! KYLE: [pained sound not unlike he is receiving a fully conscious appendectomy] Oh! IAN: Wait! [microphone glitches again] They did the weird thing with Sonic and Shadow’s spines when they would turn their heads. What would Silver look like?! KYLE: [resigned groan] IAN: Would it just be like, one giant spine, depending on the angle? [bursts into laughter] KYLE: [groans as if he is dying] Ian… what are you doing… why are you— IAN: [microphone glitches again as if resisting] The Iblis monsters would have the terrible CG effects, too! KYLE: Why am— why am I the reasonable one!

IAN: [laughs] KYLE: Why am I the one who’s being… [gives up on finishing this sentence] IAN: Forget the comic, the comic can’t hold a candle to this idea! KYLE: Oh, no… IAN: [in awe] What a glorious trainwreck! KYLE: What’s even funnier is that your mic is trying to stop you. IAN: [cackles] KYLE: It’s not working. [laughs] So cursed! IAN: The whole thing would be so awful… KYLE: Yeah? IAN: But then there would be, like, this incredibly well-written and poignant subplot about Elise dealing with her emotional trauma, and how Soleanna as a country even works. And it’s like, maybe an episode, maybe two that really gets into it and fleshes out this world in a meaningful and robust manner. KYLE: [chuckles] Yeah. IAN: And that’s it. That’s like— that and Dan Green are the only redeeming things out of this season. KYLE: [sigh, reading chat] Ian, in the chat… IAN: Yeah. KYLE: In the Bumblekast Discord server, open it up. There’s a little piece of art there. Someone has, uh, sketched Silver. [chuckles] IAN: [seeing it, delighted, evil] Yes! KYLE: [laughing] IAN: Cursed Toucan Sam! KYLE: [cackles] Oh no! Why do you…? No! Awful! Toucan— IAN: [as Silver] “Just follow my nose, wherever it goes!” KYLE: [horrified, amused] Toucan Silver! No! [emits the world’s most drawn-out, pained cry of defeat] IAN: Psycho-beak-nesis! KYLE: [laughing] Bumblekast was a mistake! IAN: [laughs] It was, but at least we’re over with it for today. KYLE: [laughing] Oh… I guess so.[outro music fades in]

EPISODE THUMBNAIL by the incredible @nintendoni-art

—— TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It’s just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don’t like an answer, you don’t have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It’s all just for fun!

[lovelyunholyc]

vash isn't used to the way you adore him, so abundantly, so openly.

he still blushes just as brightly when you so much as brush shoulders now, as he did when he first realized he had feelings for you.

and you doubt he'll ever get used to it, pray that he never does, because flustering him is your favorite pastime, though it was just an aftereffect of what you loved to do the most: show him how much you appreciate him, dote on him to the point of spoiling him with your affections. wolfwood can attest to that, with his constant disapproving grumble every time vash playfully refuses to do a trivial task until you give him a kiss (to which you sometimes turn and peck at wolfwood's cheek too, just to pester him even more, and achieve that even rarer blush).

but you know it's taken a good deal of work for vash to even have the capacity to be comfortable receiving such affection, let alone initiate it. it had taken him time to believe he was deserving of it, deserving of love, care, tenderness, the purest form of your adoration.

it hurt you to know, hurt you to see how taken aback he was when you revealed how much you truly cared for him, in every way you could imagine, how he held himself back though you could see in those big blue eyes how much he wanted, yearned for you just the same - those pretty eyes were too expressive for his own good sometimes.

and still you waited patiently for him to be ready, as long as it took to ease him into all the ways you wanted to love him, all the ways you wanted to give your heart to him, to take care of his like your life depended on it.

so, you think he deserves you spoiling him with kisses as much as he likes, and much more than he could ever imagine. you'll give it all to him, knowing he'll always do the same, without ever expecting anything in return.

"i've created a monster, truly," you murmur against his lips, softer and sweeter than you'd ever known, after his fourth? fifth? time asking for a kiss and your fourth, fifth time complying, all too happy to peck at his rapidly flushing skin, soft and warm under your touch. he's laying half in your lap and half on the ground (more on you, really), with the pretense of helping you clean and repack your bag - which he did, to his credit - for all of thirty seconds before draping himself over you and nuzzling into your warmth.

vash pouts a little, and you count yourself lucky that it isn't at its full intensity this time, because when that happens he could really get you into trouble. "you still love me, though, right?" those big blue eyes shine as his thick brows furrow, the prettiest and most expressive you've ever seen, a shade of blue as rare and unique as they are warm and lovely.

you roll your eyes without any real annoyance, leaning in to dutifully kiss his frown away. "more than you'll ever know, you big baby."

just as quickly as that pout had appeared it vanishes, and he's grinning again, wide and mischievous. he giggles, a playful, perfect little sound that never fails to warm your heart to no end. "then it's okay, isn't it?"

you brush your fingers through his hair, still unbelievably soft somehow no matter how long and tumultuous your day has been. it comforts you just as much as it does him to soothe your fingers across his scalp and rake gently through the strands.

you roll your eyes, but hum in agreement, unable to deny it. you lean in once more, and this time he doesn't have to ask, smiling into your next kiss with that intense kind of fondness that slides sweet and thick like syrup down your throat, sticks right into your heart and never eases.

you smile between kisses, too, unable to resist.

you do spoil him, but you can't think of anyone more deserving of the kind of love you have for him, overwhelming, pure, unrelenting. you lick it into his mouth until you're sure he understands, delighting at his soft sounds of pleasure that escape the seal of your lips.

[rayshippouuchiha]

I have a JJK x Naruto Crossover I think you'd like

So it's in the Naruto world, but curses and cursed energy exist as a separate thing from chakra. Jujutsu schools are scattered across the Nations, working together to keep the curses from destroying the world.

Shinobi and sorcerers really do not like each other. The shinobi hate how uncertain they are of the sorcerers loyalty as sorcerers consider themselves to be loyal to each other rather than any of the countries they are in. They often refuse to let sorcerers into the villages. The only reason they haven't all been killed is because although chackra can't kill a curse they can see them and seal them like bijuu. Sorcerers hate shinobi because while they're sacrificing their lives to protect the world the shinobi are actively creating more curses with their warfare and preventing the sorcerers from killing the curses in the villages. Also shinobi sometimes use sealed curses as weapons, which is stupid and bad.

Sidenote real fast, Hoshigaki Kisame isn't part of the Akatsuki here because Gojo was like, "hmm. I need a teacher to teach my students shinobi things so they don't get assassinated. I think this weird shark guy would be great!" So Kisame is living his best life getting to be a nice, loyal guy and is one of the only shinobi that sorcerers tolerate.

The main plot of this AU is related to the bijuu. You know how in Naruto the bijuu have the ability to sense malice and sometimes go out of their way to kill evil humans? Well in this AU what they are actually sensing is cursed energy and their job is to disperse large build ups of cursed energy to keep the formation of cursed spirits down. They are deeply venerated and respected by sorcerers for this. So guess who was absolutely furious when the shinobi started sealing them?

The only reason the sorcerers haven't gone to war over the whole thing is because without the bijuu, they're being stretched thinner and thinner as they try to keep the cursed spirit population down. Death rates among sorcerers have easily doubled or tripled, as, even if there's still very few special grades, there's just so many of the weaker ones.

This whole thing makes Geto even worse than in canon.

So in the midst of all this tension, Team Seven runs into Gojo's first year students on some kind of mission involving missing nin creating curses on purpose. Between Naruto's naruto-ness and Itadori's friendliness, they actually manage to work together and are a little friendly by the end of it.

And then it somehow comes out that Naruto is the ninetales jinchuuriki and the jjk kids lose their shit. Even Sukuna's upset, he just found out about the whole thing and his belief in humanity somehow dropped further into the negatives than it already was.

Like, they are genuinely ready to kill Naruto over this, and team seven is so confused because they were friendly a second ago, and then both their teachers show up and everything gets worse.

And the thing is, most shinobi don't know about the bujuu-sorcerer connection. The general run of the mill shinobi barely knows anything about sorcerers, and team seven actually learned more than their teachers ever told them on this mission. And it would be so confusing and stressful for them to realize that the monster that they all fear is a respected colleague to these people, and the bijuus loss is genuinely killing the sorcerers.

Just the idea that the monster sealed inside of him isn't a monster, that it was sealed wrongfully, would break Naruto a little bit.

I don't know where this would end up going. Having Kenjaku and Madara/Obito pulling shit at the same time would be a nightmare. I just really like the idea of sorcerers and shinobi having to deal with each other, and of the ninja having to think about the fact that sealing a living being and using them as a battery and weapon for a century is really fucked up, and it's no wonder they try to kill you every time they get out.

This is absolutely delightful and I need 100k of it stat

[lakesbian]

it's the moment like 4 of you have been waiting for:

i finally rotated pact creature design in my brain enough to post about it. to all the people who sent me asks wanting to hear my thoughts explaining Why Pact Creatures Are So Good this ones for you.

the core of pact's monster design boils down to one very good fact about pact's worldbuilding: in the world of pact, the universe canonically loves a good story. magic literally runs on themes and ideas. subsequently, strong themes aren't the end result of pact's monster design so much as they are the most fundamental aspect of it--meaningful themes and narratives are such a textually important part of how pact monsters work that one bogeyman outright tries to start a conversation with blake by, upon noticing the birdhouse in his soul (tm), asking if birds are important to him.

what really seals the deal on this being fascinating is that pact monsters aren't invented wholesale--a lot of the book hinges on offering its own explanations for preexisting folklore or urban legend. pact takes a variety of common threads in the way cultural myths & monsters are presented, picks out the conceptions with compelling implications, and distills them into one design so thematically coherent and clarifying that it makes you go "ohhh, why aren't All ghosts/dragons/fae like this? this is Exactly What They're Supposed To Be."

like, we all know that ghosts are dead people, and oftentimes the appearance and/or behavior they're written as having is either implicitly or explicitly based on reenactments of their past life/how they died, and sometimes they're depicted as lucid but more often than not they're depicted more like broken or warped remnants of a person, and sometimes they make things colder/give off Bad Emotional Vibes/etc. those are generally true assertions about how ghosts are often culturally presented.

pact takes that and explicitly declares that ghosts are what happens when something so bad happens that an imprint of the resultant misery is left on the fabric of the universe. some ghosts appear horrifying because their appearance is warped and exaggerated beyond what's realistically possible to match how awful whatever happened to them felt. some ghosts are more lucid because their imprint is more recent, or has been strengthened and fed by human attention instead of left to decay. some ghosts are less lucid because they were forgotten. when ghosts make the atmosphere feel awful to be in, that's because the ghost isn't just the imprint of the person, it's an imprint of the awful thing itself. incredibly interesting! it feels so very much like the absolute heart of what ghost stories are about--about the grief and horror of being impacted by the ever-present echo of something terrible, about something so viscerally wretched happening that reality itself cannot forget it, about the emotionally powerful interactions between someone still-living and the memory of someone already long gone.

(pact also gives an aside that, in very rare scenarios, neutral or arguably even positive occasions which leave a sufficiently strong enough impression can also become ghosts. genuinely fascinating expansion.)

& the thing here is that pact does this for creatures like ghosts that are already richly thematic and iconic, but it Also does it for creatures with less obvious theming. how do dragons work? what's pact's underlying explanation for their position as immortal, powerful, regal, fire-breathing* fantasy monsters?

*&, depending on the media, sometimes ice-breathing or poisonous or whatever else

well, you see, dragons are recursive loops. "dragons are recursive loops" is perhaps one of the Top All Time sentences in the entire book, and the delightful thing is that, in addition to sounding excellent, it makes sense.

that's how they generate and spit out so much of whatever their element is. they're snarls. they're ouroboroses. they're something feeding into itself, self-sustaining for thousands of years, drowning anything which threatens it in torrents of whatever the self-feeding element is--fire, sometimes, but it could be poison, or ice, or whatever else, and that's why you've probably heard of ice dragons in addition to classic fire dragons. Dragons Are Recursive Loops. recursiveness is, after all, a form of immortality.

or, like, fae? we all know that faeries are incomprehensibly old/outright immortal Tricky Little Bitches who like to manipulate people while posing in an inhumanly/horrifically beautiful fashion and going "teehee." pact takes that to a fantastically surreal level of extreme artifice, one that's almost grotesque in its dreamlike nature--they have all lived for so very long that, to them, boredom is worse than death, and so they have complicated social games spanning centuries, and speak in the most practiced of misleading wordplay, and perfectly curate their forests so that even the smallest pebble is an intentionally-chosen setpiece for their play. they graduated from handjobs a couple dozens of millennia ago--now they're more into erotic-poetic descriptions of full-body degloving. you will not notice when a faerie steals and replaces your child, because you are very young and stupid compared to them, and playing-pretend at being your child is only the briefest of trifles in their unfathomably long lifespan.

the other good bit is that pact explicitly acknowledges that faeries run on what is colloquially deemed Bullshit--the universe likes a good story, and faeries have gotten very good at telling it a moving story. if a faerie tells a good enough story about having a sword that breaks the laws of physics, then that is what their sword will do. and so the way to combat faeries is not to out-bullshit them--because no one is out-bullshitting a being with thousands of years of bullshitting practice--but to say "no, that's fucking stupid and made up" until their implausibly long sword acts like a sword of that size actually should and shatters on the spot.

& all of these writing decisions feel so naturally truthful to what these creatures are Supposed to be--they're really not wholly new takes, they're a presentation of preexisting ideas in a way that gets why those ideas appeal to people and goes full-throttle on all the most thematically rich or otherwise narratively interesting parts. It's Good Writing. I Like It. you could spend an entire essay breaking down the presentation of literally any single one of pact's creatures, it's that compelling in its reflection and organization of Ideas About Creatures.

[maireyart]

Good Memories, Yours and Mine

A little illustrated drabble for @kakashiweek Rating: G Day 4: Any AU. Post-war. Obito could tell getting used to this version of him wasn’t an easy task for Kakashi, but their awkward attempts at being friendly seemed like a good start. Twice they’d found common ground, and twice it had ended in parting soon after; if not for the Sage’s mercy and jutsu mastery, they wouldn’t be strolling the streets of Suna now, during a small break between court sessions. Getting in sync had felt natural in the midst of battle, but getting along in the thick mire of post-war stagnation turned out to be way more difficult.

Frankly, Obito still barely recognized himself; self-restoration was a work in progress. He hadn’t associated what he saw in the mirror with “Uchiha Obito” for a good deal of years, but now he sometimes absently wondered if his real self could still be seen through the battle-weary shell of his body or the grim lines on his face. Only the eyes seemed the same – dark, restless, and brooding, the Sharingan sealed away.

But apparently grannies could sense something regardless. They’d always clung to the lively boy he’d been, and when an old lady tugged at his sleeve and asked if he could carry her enormous suitcase up a flight of stairs (which were abundant in Suna), Obito got lost in the feeling of déjà-vu. It took him a few moments to process her words, and then he silently fulfilled the request under Kakashi’s amused stare. He knew one thing for sure: grannies’ intuition never lies. If that Suna lady approached him, then perhaps he did have something of the former Obito in his aura again; a tiny flicker of warmth only a perceptive person could notice.

“There was a time when I couldn’t stand your granny-related excuses. But now they’re good memories,” Kakashi commented with a lilt in his voice when Obito returned. “But I… I didn’t leave you any good memories, did I? If I did, it might have…”

Obito sighed. “You probably did,” he admitted quietly, “but they were few. Very few. And poisoned by what – what followed later…” It was a precipice they’d been hovering on for quite a while but couldn’t jump into just yet, so he made a mental step back and clutched onto a tiny vision that twinkled like a firefly in the dark mess of his mind. “Oh! Remember the day when you helped me with granny Hiroko’s errand? You were so nervous we’d be late for some stupid team training with some stupid invited specialists that you sank to my level just to make sure I’d be on time.”

“Uhuh. We ended up being late together anyway, only appearing after they’d left. An unforgettable event,” came the light-hearted response, and then Kakashi giggled. It was the strangest sound in the universe.

“‘Criminally negligent irresponsibility in time of war,’” Obito quoted Sandaime’s words mockingly. “For once I wasn’t the only one being scolded. And you actually enjoyed running that errand with me – don’t tell me you didn’t. You didn’t even chastise me after. And maybe you even snickered under that mask of yours when Sensei, pale and fidgety, tried his best to explain your ‘degradation’ and my bad influence on you to his superiors.”

“True, I was smiling,” Kakashi let out slowly, lost in the memory. “Their faces were funny.”

“Took you a long time to admit it.”

“Took me a long time to change.” He hummed and closed his eyes in delight. “Besides, granny Hiroko’s eggplants were tasty.”

Obito couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, really?” They had been ninja, and fighters, and soldiers, but sometimes they had been just kids.

***

(They were late for the court session; Tsunade was outraged by the irresponsibility (something familiar, huh) and gave them an earful, but both of them were only smiling...) _____________________ Huge thanks to @professor-of-naruto for proofreading, but I've changed 1/3 of the text since then, so I might have "enriched" it with new mistakes 😁 And huge thanks to @cool-thymus for the title idea and all the fun we had discussing this AU!

[vestercorax]

Soft domestic fluff with M6 — Waking Up

Asra

The Shop now opens an hour later.

Yes, that’s a new schedule. Something about different day length, did you know-

No, Faust is not bribed with snaccs, she’s just hanging out on the doorknob, why?

Oh, look how conveniently you are snuggled, now it will be considered a crime to separate yourselves, and you don’t want crimes in your house, do you?

He doesn’t want to hear anything about bribery being considered a crime

Asra really just wants to enjoy every minute you’re together, when nothing is bothering you or demanding immediate attention (which happens all the time, hard magicians’ life)

Mornings are the most suitable time, when you can speak unhurriedly, dream a little and plan your little next week’s adventure

Nadia

Nadia has to wake up early, even on holidays :(

That habit is ingrained so deeply that it is an outright surprise for her if you don’t share it. Everyone rise early to get everything done, no?..

It warms her heart to see you so relaxed and satisfied in your bedchambers like nowhere else

She leaves, but servants are already preparing everything for your awakening

Nadia will make up for all the skipped morning caresses in the afternoon-

Lots of kisses and tea brewed with petals will improve your mood, whichever way you woke up

One day you wake up and first thing you feel is the weight on the other side of the bed

Your eyes fly open just to see Nadia’s ruby ones filled with tenderness and adoration, as she observes you and smiles bright and soft at your expression

Only then you notice the lightest tracing of her elegant fingers caressing your pillow-marked cheek

Julian

Julian is headed straight to work upon waking up

This man’s body wakes up much later than his brain does — it occurs to him it’s time to eat only an hour or two after he dug into his notes

Do you like taking naps? Good

After a brief activity burst (which consist of wolfing down the delicious breakfast you brought him) he is back in bed

No, not a single movement for at least half an hour.

Perharps, besides…

Yeah, pillow fights, sounds incredible

May or may not pretend that you stabbed him with a narrow one to doze off a little

Are deadmen supposed to have such a death grip on their killers, huh?

Portia

Portia is an early bird

The earlier you wake up, the more time there is to get done with work and have fun!

Extremely energetic + wants you besides immediately

Before you know what is going on, she is already straddling you and tickling your sides

She wants to press her nose into yours until you wake up, to peer into your eyes with her bright blue ones. But she just can’t contain her excited giggling at the simple thought of the spooked little jump you’ll definitely make

She’ll get there one morning, don’t even doubt.

If you get too cranky, she will leave you be… for a week at most.

Muriel

Muriel will leave at dawn, desperately trying not to wake you. He doesn’t want to disturb you; it’s his chores after all

He ignores your demands to stop to consider every chore only his own

Will ask Inanna to check on you if he is wandering far into the forest. He knows you will be safe, it’s just… He feels more reassured this way

Congratulations, you are guarded by a big floofy wolf, who thinks to guard = to lie flat on you and sometimes poke her nose in yours

She’s right, honestly

If you are tough enough to sleep through that, prepare for the ultimate attack: breakfast

Riding proudly on the wolf’s back to the kitchen, you are greeted with a “good morning” hum

As you eat half-sleepily, Muriel adoringly studies your face, trying and failing to hide it

His own face turns slightly red, when you try to feed him a little bit of your portion, even though he has already eaten

You succeed.

Lucio

If it was up to him, he would be staying under the covers till the sun has passed its peak

Oh, wait, it is up to him. The deal is sealed then.

And he will be very delighted to have you in his arms

Carefully, you won’t be able to escape after indulging even once. Lazy and long mornings, stretches, laughter and adoring stares… Who would be, honestly?

After crawling out of the bed and eating it’s time to refine your day plans. Ones for evening are the most exciting

After that he will attend to his training

“You want all of me hard as steel, don’t you? ;)”

Will encourage you to join him and will literally beam if you say yes

First headcanon post, there we go

Masterlist, if you wish

[adobe-outdesign]

omg can you review the mighty poogle 🥺

The Poogle is one of those really abstract Neopets wherein it's just a Creature(TM). What kind of creature? Who knows. I guess they're meant to be vaguely dog-like (seeing as Poogle racing is a thing, and it does sound vaguely like "poodle"), but they really don't lean towards any one specific animal, which is always something I enjoy.

What makes Poogles appealing is undeniably how chubby they are; it makes them look extra cuddly and is part of what gives them their distinctive noses (or lack thereof) and double chins. It also comes with a bit of lore about them living primarily in cold-weather regions, kind of like how seals have blubber to keep them warm.

Beyond that, I also like their stripes; they break up the design just enough without feeling too distracting, similar to their underbellies. The shape of the stripes is also mimicked by their distinctive ears.

I will fully admit though: Poogles got the raw end of the deal when it comes to customization. Not the absolute worst conversion job, mind you, as for the most part they look pretty dang similar—same pose, same proportions, same markings, etc.

However, what got completely messed up is their faces. Originally, Poogles had a soft, fleshy snoot that had two sets of lines to indicate that it was mostly fat and that it went back in space a bit. Removing this upper line makes their snouts look hard, and also has the side effect of making their snout and even their entire head look too wide.

Likewise, the chin got messed up. The Poogle originally had a pretty distinct double chin/fat neck that, once again, showed how chubby they were. More importantly, their chin lines weren't closed off, so their heads bled directly into their bodies. On converted Poogles, they now just look like they have one weird normal chin instead of a chin and neck. The end result is actually kind of uncanny if you stare at them for too long. It's a shame, because like I said, everything else about the conversion works, and there was no reason to change the elements they did. They're still cute, mind you, just slightly less so.

Favorite colours:

MSP: Species-specific colors always tend to be iconic and a delight, and MSP Poogles certainly are no exception. They're basically the same thing as a regular plushie Poogle, except Evil(TM), with red eyes and a nasty set of sharp teeth (side note: canonically, all Poogles actually have sharp teeth; you just rarely see them). The unconverted version also is bipedal, unlike the regular unconverted plushie, which was quadrupedal.

Both converted and unconverted MSPs have a super fun chaotic gremlin energy to them, and both designs are good depending on which stance you prefer (I kind of like the converted quadrupedal, though granted, the loss of some stitching and extra softness is a bit of a shame.)

Toy: This color literally just released last month, but a toy Poogle based off of the good old iDog is just delightful. Even if you don't know anything about iDogs, the design is still good, with the eyes serving to complete a multi-colored hexagon that draws attention to the head, and the rest of the body considering of just a smooth off-white and black.

Zombie: The mindless eyes on this one are just absolutely delightful and give it a ton of personality. I also like the details, such as a few stitches here and there, a scraggly mouth, scratch lines against the usual stripes, and liver spots. As a bonus, it looks good both with PB clothing and without.

BONUS: I don't normally mention "recolor" Neopets as much on these reviews just because they tend to be mostly by-the-numbers, but the pastle Poogle is honestly gorgeous, with subtle gradients and a low-contrast blue and pink color scheme, helped by colored lineart. It's nothing fancy, but it's definitely one of the all-time best pastels out there.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hey! Firstly I absolutely love your writing, and I was wondering if you could write something along the lines of someone making a deal with a demon/the devil and its the trope where to seal the deal they have to kiss, but the person making the deal has never kissed anyone before, so the demon is teasing about it, but eventually eases them into it? Thank you! 💛

"So to seal the deal..." The demon murmured. " A kiss."

The protagonist froze.

The demon's head tilted, an amused little smile curling their lips. "Oh, come now. I'm not so unattractive a prospect, am I, that kissing me frightens you more than the thought of bargaining away your immortal soul?"

"No!" It was too vehement a response. "No. I -" They didn't know exactly how to finish.

The demon was arresting. Not human, not quite, but strikingly beautiful in the way of things designed to tempt and seduce. They were sitting on the armchair opposite, lazy and at ease, except for their gaze which pierced right through the human and tracked their every moment. They were, regrettably, entirely too much the protagonist's type.

"You...?" The demon repeated, delicate and leading.

"It's nothing," the human snapped. They crossed the room and snatched up the demon's hand, before they could think too hard, and leaned down to press a kiss to the back of their hand.

The demon chuckled, velvet and rumbling, and caught the human's chin in one swift movement before they could straighten. The demon's hold was impossible to break or pull away from. It kept them half bowed over the creature, looking up at them through their eyelashes.

The protagonist's breath caught in their throat.

"That doesn't count." The demon's nail scraped gently along the human's lower lip. "It has to be on the mouth."

"That's a stupid rule. There's no hierarchy of kisses." It came out a little rough. Hoarse.

"You've never kissed anyone before, have you."

The demon didn't quite say it like a question, though the devil knew how they had figured it out. Maybe it was blazingly obvious. Maybe the demon really could see right through them with their strange magic.

The human tugged at their head, taking a step back. Their head didn't move in the demon's hand. They flushed, bracing their hands on either side of the demon's chair to steady themselves.

When the demon simply continued to stare at them, gaze moving hungrily over their face, seemingly delighted, the protagonist looked away.

"I'm flattered," the demon said, "to be your first. First kisses are so sweet. So full of potential. Kneel before you strain your neck."

The human dropped, stupidly, before the demon. Their fingers tightened on the arms of the chair. They wondered if there was any point lying, denying it...

"You don't count," the human managed. "It's not a proper first kiss, anyway. You're a demon."

"Fair enough." The demon's eyes gleamed. "Do you want to practice then. For your first proper kiss? I've kissed a lot of people. I can teach you if you're worried."

"I'm not worried!" They may have been a little worried that their kissing technique was awful. It was ridiculous to worry that a demon would judge them, but...the human bit their lip, and hesitated. "Does it have to be with tongue, to count, or...?"

The demon laughed softly again.

"No," the demon said. "But it must be on the mouth, and you must initiate the kiss for each to count. May I?"

"We could just get this over with."

"What a terrible attitude to have for your first time." The demon clicked their tongue, but their voice was honeyed and teasing. "I want to make this good for you."

The human swallowed, attention flitting up to the demon's face again.

The demon leaned in towards them and pressed a kiss, first, to the protagonist's temple, then their cheek, then the very corner of their mouth.

The protagonist turned their head, to catch the demon's mouth fully in their own, and the demon swayed back just out of reach.

The protagonist glared at them.

The demon leaned in again, and kissed them on the mouth. The protagonist might have expected an intense, claiming, devouring sort of kiss - but the kiss was gentle and slow. Teaching. It eased the protagonist into it like slipping into the embrace of a hot sensuous bath.

When the demon pulled back a second time, the protagonist was breathless.

"Very good," the demon said.

The protagonist shivered. They found, deal or not, that they wanted to lean in, to press their lips to the demon's, to take and feel.

It felt like an eternity of kisses later, when the demon pulled the protagonist up into their lap, drawing them close. Everything about them seemed to simmer and the protagonist - the protagonist felt strung with want, and heady desire, and sensation.

"Go on." The demon let go of them. "Show me what you've learned."

The protagonist leaned in, kissing a path to the demon's lips, and then claimed them.

They were always complimented on their kissing skills after that.