#FUCK having a massive following. i dont need it

[orcelito]

listen it's late and i shouldve been in bed an hour ago but im just so profoundly grateful to have ppl that love my fic enough that they let me know it. leaving comments, being sweet & positive & supportive. u guys r the best. amazing encouragement. i wanna give u the world

[cator99]

I always get detained at da border because PROFUNC never ended but basically I'm like if a targeted individual didn't even care

[theamazingannie]

Love the way people will simultaneously hate on celebrities for voicing opinions about politics because they aren’t educated enough on the topic and also condemn celebrities who don’t speak out about politics when they are clearly not the kind of person who is properly educated on the topic

[cobra-wives]

you give me lawrusso adjacent; chris naked in new york x ruben patterson shootfighter. essentially, literally any amalgamated mixture of the zacchio-verse and their roles. i don’t mind - i love them all.

i nod.

i raise you; cobra husbands adjacent; terry mccain excessive force x captain vernon the dog who saved summer.

pleaaase let them be the villains in johnny and daniel’s lives in EVERY UNIVERSE.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner drabbles since I need to get back into writing it.

Robber, bursting through the door, gun already pulled out and shouting: EVERYBODY PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP AND OPEN UP YOUR WALLETS

The whole God damn Batfam just looking up from their respective places in the diner:..

Danny, behind the counter, tired as hell from basically taking over feeding them all: Take the fucking shot.

---

Nightwing, laying dramatically over the breakfast bar as Danny walks in, a rose between his teeth: Hi~ I need to place an order

Danny, woke up 15 minutes ago: It is to early for this (it's 7 pm)

Nightwing, watching as Dany just turns around and leaves the diner: Wait no.

---

Bart/Wally/Berry, finally done helping their respective Bat with Gotham Things ™️, stumbling upon the Diner:Sweet, no need to run back home on empty!

Danny, seeing the one that he has seen Clockwork scream about walk into his diner: shit I gotta make a call.

(15 Minutes later)

Bart/Wally/Berry crying into a massive plie of pancakes as Clockwork reads them yo filth.

---

Wes, grumbling as he is kicked out of the diner for the fifth time this week: God damn it Fenton! Stopping hiding your ghostly existence! The people demand the truth!

Bernard, there because Tim recommended it, trying and failing to hit taking him there for a date, head snapping over to Wes like a horror movie: I sense a conspiracy theory.

---

Cass, squating on a bar stool: *pouting face*

Danny, squinting at her: No.

Cass, looking up at him with the most hurt expression: *kicked puppy look*

Danny, feeling terrible:Okay! Okay I will get Cujo to come over! A-and I will throw in Ellie!

Cass, breaking unto a smile: and hot coco?

Danny, fully broken by her: Sure, why the hell not.

---

Tucker and Sam, finally coming into the diner: honestly? Not as bad as I thought it would be.

(A Bat getting chucked through the door, and Rouge following after)

Tucker:Holy...is he okay?

Sam: I take back what I said.

Danny, looking at the property damage:Nope...nope this is normal, Red Hood your tab just doubled.

Jason, fully concussed: Sure thing...babe...

---

Based on an idea I have for later on, Jason and Danny are in the middle stage between friends and Dating and Jason finally gets to meet the other two of the everlasting trio...

Sam, has a baseball bat in hand that is starting to sprout out branches: You hurt Danny and you'll end up dead again, and this time you won't have the hands to dig your way out.

Tucker, with sparks flashing in his eyes and a grin on his face, his PDA blinks with info that no civilian should have: Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, I know all about you, mess things up with Danny and your Pride and Prejudice Self insert fanfiction gets shared with your family, as well as your Wattpad and Tumblr accounts will be sent directly to the Justice Leauge.

Jason, crying a little bit:Danny your friends are terrifying.

Danny, walking out in a pink apron:Oh shit...ugh, Sam! Tucker! I told you dont do that!.

---

Vlad, being a creep to Danny: Oh little badger...truly looking forward to seeing you begging for your life once more

Jason, equidded with Fenton works guns: Anyway I started Blasting.

[prettyboykatsuki]

oliver talking his partner through it and calling him d**** god your brain is so huge my stomach hurts thinking about this. he’ll never tell you he loves you to your face and tries to fuck you more like he hates you because he doesn’t want to get too attached but as you’re getting close he’s all in your face and your neck, teasing you, biting your ear and softly begging you to tell him how you feel, how it’ll be better for him if you tell d**** just how close you are and how much you need him. takes you over the crest so sweetly, and continues rolling into you, chasing his own. his kisses are nonstop and so overwhelming, and he knows they are but he just really needs to connect with you like this. never the first to say “i love you” but unfortunately (in his opinion) he expresses it in so many other ways. sorry.

but i crumble completely when you cry | a. oliver

✮ tags ; DADDY KINK, afab + fem!reader, situationship!oliver, hooking up, unresolved romantic tension, p in v, praise, soft sex, it gets emotionally strange, riding, creampies, unprotected sex, under-negotiated kink in a sense though oliver is very careful

✮ wc ; 2.2k (i dont want to talk about it)

✮ a/n ; anon im going to haunt your dreams for putting this absurd image into my head when i dont even go here im crying screaming throwing up ive been thinking about it for hours. hours of my life wasted on this guys dick. upsetting!!!!!

also i do not write this often and do not plan too again any time soon so if ur seeing this and thinking about following me for content like it i would not recommend!!!

✮ synopsis ; you don't trust oliver with your heart or your feelings. nor do you expect anything from him.

but it's hard not to lean into him when he decides to cradle you so gently.

Your relationship with Oliver is both very ambiguous and very clear.

There's a line drawn, and you both steer clear of crossing it in your interactions. Oliver is fun. He's attractive and charming, a massive flirt but just genuine enough to be interesting.

It helps that he's hot. Physically, he's got an unreal build.

He's an athlete, so he's big. Wide chest and strong arms, thick thighs and the height to top it off. He's 6'3, and he's sexy (and his dick is huge) - and you sleep with him because of that. You don't date him explicitly because he's a womanizer. If you'd met when you were a little younger, a little more naive - you might've tried to dog-train him into being your boyfriend.

Because on top of the immaculate dick, he's fun to be around. He's funny, he drinks well, he's not a scumbag in the ways that turn you off.

You're old enough to know better. You have a career. You're too busy, and too jaded about love to try and fix whatever weird shit he has going on. So even if the two of you harbor some sort of emotional or romantic feelings for each other, you're smart enough to not get invested in those feelings and smart enough to have no expectations.

Oliver is your fun. He's your sneaky link, your weekend off. You come to him to blow off steam. You have rough, fast sex and it's good. Sometimes you chill afterwards, and you'll indulge each other in some physical affection but other times you take your shower and leave. It's a good time, and you know well enough not to ever ask him for any of your emotional needs. You have your therapist and girl friends for that.

Normally, when you're having a rough week - it's prime time to go to him. He'll fuck you a little harder than usual, and sometimes he's nice enough to kiss it better. But it's still, very distinctly, never crossing that boundary.

But some weeks, like this week - shit is bad. Not just stressful bad, but everything in the fucking world that could go wrong, is going wrong bad. It's not the kind of thing you can get over by compartmentalizing and even when you try to do your usual thing it doesn't really work.

You're trying right now - to get over the fucked up week you had. And you're turned on, but somehow - it's still not enough to get you completely out of it.

Oliver pauses mid stroke, in missionary - hetero-chromatic eyes staring you down as your thoughts are somewhere else completely. You don't notice the first time he stops, or the first time he calls you.

And he only gets your attention by cupping your face and making you look at him. You startle as you cast your glance his way.

"What's with you?" He asks, though he's not pissed or anything "Not feelin' it? Want me to stop?"

"No, you don't have too."

"Not what I asked," He chastises, letting go of your face "Not having your full attention is making me go soft,"

This makes you laugh, and Oliver cracks a smile seeing the tension melt off your face if only slightly.

"I'm cool with stopping." He assures. You let your hand reach up to his shoulder.

"It's not like I want to stop, necessarily? Like I wanna do something to get my mind off it and sex feels like the best option, but you know how it goes sometimes," You say, trying your best to avoid the emotional baggage of your words "We can stop though. I'll pay you for your wasted time," You tack the joke on at the end to ease the tension.

You're expecting him to pull out and stop, or maybe challenge himself into fucking you so good that you forget. Something more quintessentially Oliver than what he does do.

He gives you a blank look first, than a laugh that is a touch too sincere for you to be comfortable "That bad of a week?"

You're suddenly in dangerous territory. Somehow, this strange intimacy makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You swallow thickly, the emotions coming over you so quick you end up looking away.

"Yeah. You know. It's fine, but you know."

"Mm," He says. He leans into your space. His breath is warm and his stubble tickles your skin as he whispers in your ear. You feel your breath hitch. And the air feels heavy "Wanna try somethin' else?"

"Like what?"

"A surprise," He says first, and find your stomach tightening. A hollowness in your nerves "Gotta trust me."

"You're scaring me." You joke.

"I'm a sex expert, you know?" Oliver says, humming against your skin "If I can't remedy your little problem with my dick, it's bad for my street cred. My yelp reviews will tank."

"You're such a dumbass."

"Do you trust me?"

You don't know how to answer. Yes, for the most part. Not with everything, but with your pleasure at least. Whatever this is, it doesn't feel the same. But you say yes, anyways. Oliver kisses your jaw in reply, then he pulls out.

He flips position easily. He ends up on his back, then he grabs you to rest on top of him. You're not sure what you're expecting. He holds you by your hips as your sex hovers over his cock. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin as he sinks you down slowly onto him.

You only stare at him, mouth opening as you feel him stretch you open for a second time.

You're more aware of it this way. He's so thick, and so intrusive - and normally, you're feeling that in hard strokes. Fast and rough, like something knocking into your cervix. But like this, he's hitting a deep angle. You can feel every curve, every inch, as you come down slowly.

He keeps you there. For longer than you'd expect. Just keeps you, settles you, holds you gently. You stare at him as he grabs your hand, locking your fingers. Your first instinct is to panic, or crack a joke - but there's an intense look in his eye that shuts you up.

Uncharacteristically gentle, you find yourself frightened. Oliver's hands reach for you again. They hold your waist and slide up the planes of your body. He holds your tits in his palms and squeezes.

He does this a lot, but there's not usually this much touching. This much foreplay. It's grabby, a deeper pressure. He doesn't...feel you, in the way he is now. You stare at him, and he looks back at you so fondly you feel a strange urge to pretend it never happened.

"Play with your clit," He says, though there's no urgency in his voice.

Deep and smooth, the timbre in it has you shaking. You listen, on auto-pilot as you play with yourself clumsily and build a slow pressure. He just watches.

"C'mere, baby. And don't stop touching yourself."

Another pause. It's not the first time he's called you that. He likes to call you all sorts of things when you're fucking, and baby is one of the few. But not like that. Not like this. He gives you a lazy, self satisfied smile and encourages you by placing a hand on where he can reach on your low back.

You lean down, and Oliver tucks you into his chest. He's warm, and strong - and smells so good, like musk and cologne. Your free hand is on his chest, as he grips your hips and fucks up into you.

"That's it," His voice is pleasant to your ears. It feels funny to you "Just gotta listen to me."

He starts fucking you slowly. It's a familiar feeling, a pleasant stretch that dulls into a euphoric fullness. But it's never been this slow before. Each thrust is slow, and punctual, and so deep you feel yourself gasping. It's not enough to push you over the edge, but it's enough to make your mind feel a little numb.

You think he's going to keep at you like this, maybe edge you to take you out of it. But he doesn't. He keeps his pace.

"Had a hard time this week, didn't you, tough girl?" He mumbles, so low it doesn't feel real. You feel your heart start to race. You feel your throat start to close around something, choking "Did a good job and came to me. Gonna let me take care of it?"

You stumble. You aren't sure what to say, you nod and hope he feels it. He laughs a little. You can't be sure if you're fucking Oliver or not.

You know it's him but he's never been like this. Not once. Not ever.

"Gonna let daddy take care of you?" He says, though it's tentative. Your breath hitches. Something strange overwhelms your senses "Tell me, baby."

"Uhm," Your first reaction is a sense of resistance, an immediate pull away. Not that you hate it but you aren't sure how to adjust. You squirm, but you don't tell him no. You feel like you can't in this state "Uh-uh,"

He keeps surprising you, pressing his lips to yours where you hover over him, tender as he ups the pace of his thrusts.

"That's what I like to hear," He almost sounds proud "You'll hurt your head if you think too much. And I'd be a bad daddy, letting that happen, yeah?"

A vulnerable, foreign sensation drives you to speak "You're not bad in that way."

He laughs "Just in other ways, right?"

You giggle "Uh-huh."

"But not in this one," He repeats, very carefully. He fucks into you harder now, pays extra special attention to you. It's all for you, is what he's saying in a language completely foreign yet somehow so known. One only the two of you will ever know fully, confined in the four walls of this room "Daddy is good at taking care of you like this, so you should let him do just that. Tough girls always need their daddies, hm?"

It's what ends up tipping you up over the edge. You cling to him, succumbing to whatever weird space the two of you have fallen into you. Suspended in this odd sense of comfort that Oliver has thrust you in unannounced.

You don't trust Oliver with a lot, and this is more than what you should ever find yourself giving. In the back of your head you think you should pull away.

But he's comforting. It feels good, and strangely feels safe - and even for all the ways he's awful, you trust he'd never do anything bad to you. Even if it's a blip in the timeline, for now it's what you need. A blurry cross into your emotional needs that translate into your physical ones. Too much and so overwhelming, you hug closer to him and take a deep breath.

"Mm," You let yourself lean into him. Just this once, you promise yourself. "I wanna cum."

"Want it a little harder?"

"Mhm,"

"Then Daddy will give it to you a little harder, yeah? Anything for you." He says, and you try not to think to deeply on what that really means. Because even in this state you know it's not nothing, but you should never pry "Daddy can give you anything you want."

"Yeah?"

He chuckles a little as he fucks into you hard. Fucks into you how you need. You're wet enough, and wondering if you were always so into being doted on. Or if it's just the fact that it's Oliver. Another thing you decide to overlook as you zero in on the sensation of being pistoned from underneath. You're soaking. The room noisy with the sticky noise of Olivers cock penetrating you over and over, skin hitting skin as his hips press against your ass. His grip is bruising but not intentionally, his chest huffed in pleasure.

He's just as close as you are, you know all of his cues. You play with your clit faster, sensitive bud throbbing hard as all the blood rushes south. Your mouth has fallen open as the slow, thick desire coiling and culminating into something cosmic. Something big and heavy, but not too fast. Not a crash landing like you're used to.

But a single weight, the force of a star dropping to Earth. You figure Oliver is the gravity in your universe, holding you down so you don't float too far. You want to cling onto him for much longer.

And somehow, you're inclined to think he would let you.

"Oliver," You say his name as it builds, then decide on something else "Daddy,"

"I'm here, baby," He says back, like it's all he has to say for everything to make sense when nothing about this does "I'm right here. Let go."

So you do. You cum hard, and it comes in long never ending waves. Too much. It makes you collapse in Olivers arms, both arms coming around his neck as he continues to fuck you through the aftermath.

"Gonna," He voices, rasping as his thrusts become sloppy "Shit. Cumming, shit."

He cums with you, cums deep inside like usual and you mewl at the feeling of being filled with hot, sticky seed.

When it's over, you're almost afraid to look at him. When the tensions settled, and his chest goes back to it's steady breaths - you wonder whats going to happen next.

"Wanna stay like this for a while?"

You nod.

"Mm. Sleepy."

"Stay like this, then. I'll wake you in a little."

"So you can kick me out?" You joke, trying to pretend nothing is different. He pauses.

"Just to shower," He whispers, hand resting on your lower back "Sleep."

There's too much to think about. Tomorrow will be strange. You let yourself succumb to your own exhaustion.

"Okay."

[haroldthehuckleberry]

Step-Son MPreg

CW- mpreg, sex, language, Step-Son X Step-Dad storyline

I always fancied my step-dad since i met him i thought he was hot, hes a classic himbo, hes tall, muscly, blonde and stupid as can be.

I never knew if he was purposefully flirting with me of was just too stupid to understand it was wrong, but it being wrong made me so horny, id often wank off after he’d compare our hand sizes, snuggle up to me or even bend over to empty the dishwasher, anything and everything he did turned me on so hard! he always wore clothes that left nothing to the imagination, short-shorts, crop-tops or no tops! My actual dad loved this about him and it made me so jealous seeing them cuddle and kiss and then one day… my dad went on a business trip. it was now or never.

i came downstairs in my dressing-gown and boxers showing off my abs and mediocre pecs i walked into the living room to my step-dad half asleep on the couch only in his briefs and white running socks, sweating and scratching his perfect body when he saw me he woke up a little and pushed a finger into his underwear suggestively “oh… hey man” he said in a gruff half awake voice “h-hey” i stammered taken aback by how horny he already seemed my cock visibly swelled in my already tight boxers. he glanced down to it quickly and blushed “come here pal i have something to show you” he said gesturing for me to walk over- i follow his orders and sit next to him, he places his hand on the back of my head and pulls me in for a deep long kiss. i rest my hand on his groin and feel his cock twitch and harden through his pants i then slowly kiss his neck, then his chest, then his abs until his beautiful totem-pole of a cock is in-front of my face. i confidently slip it all into my throat in one go and he lets out a little moan.

i suck him off for what feels like an hour before he pulls me up by my armpits and spins me around, he lifts my dressing gown up and squeezes my ass before bending me over the couch as he teases my underwear down making my cock twitch due to the prolonged friction, he then rubs the head of his penis along the outside of my un-used hole while i beg for his cock i then moan loudly as he slides it all in at once. he grabs the hair on the back of my head and holds my cock in the other one of his massive veiny hands his expert technique instantly turns me into a worthless hole only purpose is to please him, after a few hours of fucking and cumming we fall asleep on the couch naked together.

after a few more days of constant fucking, sucking and cumming my real dad comes home and we have to start being discrete, doing it in one of our cars or while hes away or even just quietly under the kitchen table, the closer he is, the hotter we find it.

after months of this i notice a small ball in the centre of my stomach while getting dressed i think nothing of it and carry on and on until its too obvious to hide under baggy clothes, i tell people im just bulking cause i want to build mass, i wanted to believe it but me and my step dad knew it was more.

his cum must be super-human i quickly became the biggest pregnant person id ever seen i stuck to my story but less and less people believed it that was when my dad confronted me “hey buddy!” he said putting his head around my door into my room as i lay weighted down by my planet-belly, “ive noticed that your clearly pregnant” i try to sit up and defend myself but it takes me far to long to even start bending my mid-section “you dont need to deny it i know what it looks like-you where one hell of a baby! anyway i was just wondering who the daddy was and if hes in the picture” i knew he was asking because my other dad was never in the picture “well erm he kind of is” i finally admit rubbing my tight taught skin “its m-my step dad” i say defeated. “no fucking way!” my dad says more surprised than angry he finally steps fully in my room without a shirt on revealing his own pretty-large pregnant belly…

[sovietsunflower]

it took like a month, but i have finally 100% cult of the lamb and that alone is pretty cool ig but i need to share with everyone how many god damn followers i have

in case the text is too small, there is 104 of them they all have golden necklaces and im not even done resurrecting them

i dont i dont even know what to do with this i just had to put this out into the ether

if anyone is in the least bit interested here are some interesting things about my cult

sozo stole my damn husband

i had to completely outlaw and exterminate all of my mushrooms because i accidentally clicked the brainwash ritual when i had 72 and fucking everyone got sick

other things that i dont have screenshots of:

there is a massive polycule that i might end up charting out cause it contains like half the cult, including narinder and i guess the lamb?

leshy said fuck you to my yellow cat i made specifically for him and chose my old ass hedgehog. mans knows what he's about ig

many of my followers have wildly inappropriate names because my first child was named by combining the names of his parents Hat and Otis and i landed on,,,, Hot Tits,,,, without realizing there was a baby phase,,,,

that being said i would die for Hot Tits he is my pride and joy theres probs more but thats what i can think of off the top of my head

[azurlily]

Dont ask just read, this is what a bored and horny mind can come up with. Yes, this woman needs a name so for now we will call her LSM. What does that stand for? Lets find out together. Completely UNEDITED.

Lesbian Sugar Mommy

You had a daily schedule, a routine. You followed this routine everyday for years. For years. So you being poor as hell at only 24, being barely able to afford food and rent. It was an all time low for you, and an embarrassing one at that. Recently your friend recommends you try a sugar dating app. At first you thought it was stupid, but mulled it over and remembered how broke you were. You made a profile and it took a couple days before you matched with a woman. At first you were incredibly awkward when texting and felt embarrassed. She seemed like the kindest woman you've ever met. She understood you and was better than any man or woman you had previously dated.

You were honestly pretty enamored with her, she has dark green eyes. Like a forest green, god they're beautiful, and you swear they change color depending on what she's wearing. Her hair is long and dark, contrasting her lightly tan skin. Her hair is slightly curly, definitely not straight. In the many pictures she's sent you, you notice all her nails are perfect manicured, but two on each finger have been cut down completely. You didn't bother asking, weren't a virgin or stupid, simply poor. You two began talking a bit more about finances after a couple weeks. She listened to you talk about your financial situation, how you could barely keep a roof over your head. By the end of your two and a half hour conversation, you found yourself being wired $10,000. It wasn't as if it was out of nowhere considering what the conversation was, but it was surprising. LSM had said she wanted to give you a bit of money to keep you going for the month. She had not said she was give 10,000 fucking dollars! You didn't know what to do with the money. Other than pay your bills and let the rest sit.

For a couple days you were worried she'd want it all back, but no, instead she asked if you wanted more.

"Well I didn't give you that much...so I'm just making sure it's enough. I can give you plenty more, sugar."

You had reassured her it was enough, much more than enough. In the following days you were finding her flirting with you more, being more straightforward. You blushed everytime she made a crude joke, but you almost wished it was a statement.

When LSM had asked if you wanted to have dinner at her place you agreed. You wondered how the night would go, if you would fuck up and she'd be mad. You hoped the night went as well as possible, and if not, that she'd at least tell you.

The night went a lot of different ways. At first she was playing the kind and gracious host, then she was flirting with you. Finally you had both drank a little too much of her expensive red wine, and she fucked you against her king size bed.

You dont remember the first little bit, but you certainly remember how your night ended. Well not all of it, that woman has the sex drive of a beast. She continued until she couldn't, until you couldn't walk and she couldn't see straight. If nothing else; your legs will remember this until you die.

"Good morning sugar, how are you feeling? I hope I wasn't too rough on you, although I can't say it was entirely my fault. You kept begging me to keep going, and who am I to deny you?"

You whined, talking hurt, and you couldn't move without some part of your body below your waist hurting. You sit up just a enough and look at yourself in your phone mirror. Oh she knew exactly what she was doing, theres a massive bite mark on your shoulder. Everywhere else there's hickeys, like they're changing color.

"Before you get mad- please look at my back!"

She turned and you saw large scratch marks running down her back. From her shoulders to her ass, you can also see quite the array of bites on her shoulder. One looks like it was actually bleeding. Your reaction must be funny because she's laughing like crazy. She gently cups your face and kisses your lips.

"So pretty. My girl is so pretty arent you? Mommy's little girl."

You just laid in her arms for a while, letting her talk about whatever she wanted. You were tired and her touch made you weak. You began thinking about your job, did you have to call in to work today? Were you working today? You asked LSM, but she just smiled and shook her head.

"You wont need your job anymore, at least not this one. I've already sent your monthly allowance over to you. You can quit that job anytime, it'll give you more time for me."

Monthly allowance? You pulled away to check your bank account. Sure enough she had transferred over $40,000.

You stared at the number for a moment a then looked back at her. You assumed she was some sort of big millionaire, but now that you're looking around. Really looking. You dont want to know what this woman does for a living.

"Pay no mind sugar, now come here. I'll have someone bring breakfast and we can stay in bed all day!"

[lizzie-is-here]

lonely is a man without love

part vii- choice

“hug me like the night holds the moon” - alexandra vasiliu

summary: fighting egyptian gods honestly isn’t that bad, especially when marc and steven look so good in their suits

wordcount: 2.1k

warnings: language, violence, honestly i think that’s it, not much fluff but i’ll make up for it in the last part i promise

a/n: thank y’all for being so patient with me, this isn’t the last part, there will be one more bc i want the moon boys to meet the avengers 😏 also wondering how oscar isaac feels knowing he’s played some of the hottest characters to exist bc my miguel obsession is concerning 💀 i hope y’all enjoy, love you all sm, have a great day 🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @thefictionalgemini @ravenz-hope @undiscl0sed-d3sir3s @iateall-your-cookies @disregardedplant @sunflowers-4 @yellowumbrelllaaaa @bagsy-not-it @local-mr-frog @thescarletredwitch @jupitersmoon167 @creamecafe @stevenknightmarc @theluciansystem @kingtwhiddleston @spider-biter @mxltifxnd0m @sgt-morgan @no-dont-be-suspicious @onzayhe @namorslit @i-cant-write-for-shit @vainillasmil157 @doublevirgogirl @boofy1998 @seninjakitey @khaleesihavilliard @gaypoetsblog @letmehavemyfictionalmen @bitchotine

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“That’s fucking disgusting,” you murmur to yourself as three bullets fall out of your slowly-healing wounds.

Coming back from the dead was remarkably unremarkable, you think. However, the sensation of ammunition leaving your body on its own was rather unpleasant.

Heaving strained sighs, you wring out your hair as you make sure the room is empty.

“Ok, Taweret, what now?” you ask.

You don’t expect your body to seize up, and for her voice to leave your throat as you uncontrollably spew words.

“There will be an opening in a nearby wall to where Khonshu’s ushabti is at the Chamber of the Gods. Do you see it?”

You gasp, coughing from the intrusion. A few yards away, the bricks open, revealing a shady tunnel with glowing hieroglyphs. You still don’t fuck with small, dark, magic tunnels. But, you suppose you don’t have much of an option.

“Alright. I’m going in.”

The tunnel opens up to a massive chamber, and you can see Harrow and his team at the entrance, confronting what seem to be more avatars. You sneak past in perfect silence, weaving through tunnels on an instinct you suspect is controlled by Taweret.

Finally, you reach a wall of lamps. In front of each one is a tiny statue. Scanning each one, your eyes land on one that seems newer than the others.

“Surprise,” you singsong. “I’d recognize that ugly face anywhere. Now what?”

The same uncomfortable sensation takes over your voice.

“Smash it on the ground, it’ll free him.”

You raise the ushabti above your head before hurling it with some personal spite. It shatters on the floor, and the fog that emanates from it rises into a form.

“I do not sense Marc Spector in this world,” he announces. “He died fighting, no doubt.”

You raise a brow. “Yeah, no shit. Doing your dirty work.”

“It’s far from over. If Marc is truly gone, I am in need of an Avatar. Would you protect the travelers of the night-“

You wave your hands, cutting him off. “Would you shut the fuck up? I’m already Taweret’s temporary Avatar. Go resurrect Marc before I get Wanda to curse you.”

The god disappears in a cloud of dust, and you hear his voice echo from the main chamber. You listen in silence before a loud beeping interrupts.

When you look down at your gauntlet, the small screen displays words that make you audibly groan.

“Shit, shit shit shit,” you hiss, hurrying to the main chamber while also desperately trying to hang up the call. “Not the time, Nat!”

As you turn a corner, you come face to face with a squad of Harrow’s followers, and in your panic, you press the wrong button.

“Hey (Y/N)!” a chorus of voices say. Team dinner, shit again.

“Sorry guys, kinda busy right now!” you shout back, shooting down three people as you whip out a baton.

Wanda’s voice calls out through the fight.

“I felt your heart stop, (Y/N), what’s going on?”

Grunting, you throw a man into the wall before hopping on a woman’s shoulders to fling her backward.

Sighing, you tap the gauntlet, projecting the call so you can see their worried faces gathered around the phone.

“No biggie, I died for a little bit, but I’m all good.”

At the instant outburst, you wince. Probably should’ve chosen different words.

“Маленький паучок, ты такой мертвый, когда вернешься домой [Little spider, you’re so dead when you get home]!”

You roll your eyes, brushing off the term of endearment. With the room cleared, you run out of the Chamber of the Gods, right out the front of the Great Pyramid. Left and right, Harrow’s followers are judging the souls of civilians. Great. More headaches for you.

“Shit, kid. You need me and Buck to come over there?”

“He’s right, I’ll kill whoever did it.”

Firing blasts of energy from the gauntlets, you start taking down as many fanatics as you can. You’d rather not shoot them, but it would be easier, you have to admit.

“Did you at least die in a cool way?”

“Yelena, not the time.”

“C’mon, Cap. Let her have her fun.”

“Don’t start with me, Tony.”

“Guys!” you yell over the arguing. “I’m fine. We might have a new recruit, too. If he gets revived.”

Yelena gapes at the phone.

“You died together? Wow, pretty serious.” She wiggles her eyebrows as you strike down a man trying to grab at you. “Have you two kissed yet?”

You blush. “…Yes.”

The loud reactions have you cringing, but the blonde assassin grins.

“Awww… That’s disgusting. But I’m happy for you!” She shoves the phone to a very worried Natasha.

The redhead sighs as the team goes back to lighthearted bickering.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.

You duck behind a corner, catching your breath. “Yeah, yeah Nat. I promise. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

She nods, and with one last goodbye, ends the call.

You slump against the wall you’re hidden behind, groaning and mumbling curses. When you peek out, you see a giant crocodile goddess swallowing souls.

“Oh, wonderful,” you sigh. “How the fuck am I supposed to fight that?”

“I have an idea!” Your voice says, once again not your own. “Plus, it comes with a rather fashionable outfit.”

Coughing as Taweret invades your senses, you shake your head. “Sorry, I don’t do those weird superhero costumes.”

“Please? It has wings- Ooh, and swords!”

“Ok, how about a compromise,” you suggest. “Just add the wings and swords to my suit?”

Apparently, the goddess is happy with that, because large metal wings form down your back, glinting silver in the candlelight. You can feel the handles of swords under them. When you wave an arm, the corresponding wing follows your movements.

“Oh…” you chuckle. “Sam’s gonna be SO jealous.”

Your moment of pure glee gets interrupted when a small white blur flies by, carrying a screaming man along.

“Ah. Glad to see you back, idiots,” you whisper to yourself, preparing to run over to where they fell. Instead, the wings boost you up onto the nearest building.

Taking a moment to balance yourself, you quickly adapt to the feeling of gliding on the metal wings and swoop in in time to kick Harrow’s ugly face before he strikes Marc.

Marc takes you in. The wings, the smirk on your face, the fact that you’re okay. He can’t help but be amazed.

When Harrow tries to strike again, you cross your arms, repelling the blast with the wings.

“Marc, are you-”

You get cut off by a tight hug and a kiss planted on your forehead.

“You’re alright,” he whispers, almost like he doesn't believe it. His hands hold you like you’ll disappear. He barely pauses before pulling you into a kiss, tension leaving his body as he sighs against your lips.

You smile. “I’m alright, it’s okay.”

In a flash, his suit changes, along with his voice.

“Wow, you look amazing. Where’d you get the wings?” Steven asks.

“Hi, Steven,” you chuckle as you turn. Harrow is finally standing up from where you knocked him on his ass, and dozens of his followers have gathered.

Steven perks up. “Hey, I’m really jazzed about showing you these new skillsets we have.”

It’s impossible to not grin at his antics. “Alright, let’s see it.”

You both break into a dead sprint, with you using the wings to boost you. The new swords fit perfectly in your hands, becoming deadly as you combine them with your baton training, twirling and twisting the blades as you slash through men.

When you turn around to check on Steven, you see Marc instead.

“It’s good to know you two are getting along now,” you chirp before charging forward, cutting down whoever you need to to get to the man at the center of it all.

You strike Harrow’s staff with both swords, tag-teaming him with Marc. You make a deadly combination. That is, until he slams the staff on the ground and sends you flying,

He holds you down, hand raised above you, before Steven tackles him away, leaving you to catch your breath.

The fight only escalates from there. Marc and Steven switch seamlessly, leaning into each others’ strengths. They fight Harrow to a standstill, holding him back from wrecking the world. Usual superhero stakes.

You, however, are preoccupied. Namely with ripping the doors off of vans and helping civilians.

A purple glow blooms behind you, and you can spot Marc holding back Harrow’s magic as you rush pedestrians away from the area.

Blocking bullets, you dive back into the fight as soon as you clear the area. But you don’t get far.

A stray blast of magic throws you to the ground. Hard. You groan as the tingling, nauseating feeling rushes over you. Your legs are too shaky to get up.

When you fight to raise your head, you see Marc. He took the brunt of the strike, evidenced by the crater he lays in. Harrow is stalking closer, raising his staff above him. When he brings it down, you can see the power leaving Marc’s body.

And you can’t have the first boyfriend (kind of? maybe?) you’ve ever had die before he even takes you out on a date.

The brick you hurl at Harrow hits his knee with careful precision, and he stumbles. With a vicious kick to his ribs, you knock him far enough away to help Marc up.

But it’s not Marc.

His suit may be the same, but the eyes are different. More tired. His posture is guarded, and the way he holds the crescent dagger is more offensive than defensive.

He says nothing as you head into the fray. Whoever he is, it’s the same alter that was on the roof in Cairo, and he’s ruthless.

Steven fights with blunt weapons. Marc fights with knives, but more on the defensive. Whoever this is… He fights like you.

You fight in tandem, whittling down Harrow’s strength until eventually, you break his staff over your knee and whoever’s controlling the body nearly kills him with the force he uses to take him down.

His eyes roll back, and Marc returns.

The fear in his eyes is enough to know that he has no clue what happened. He stands with your help, shakily surveying the area.

“That wasn’t you, was it, Steven?”

The other man fronts effortlessly, gripping your arm a bit tighter.

“Not a chance, mate,” he gasps.

“Whoever it was,” you say. “He’s been hiding all this time. And he’s definitely more violent than either of you.”

Far away, Ammit begins dragging an unconscious Khonshu away. You curse under your breath, watching the two giant gods disappear from your sight.

You turn to Marc. “Get Harrow. I know how we can stop Ammit.”

Dragging an unconscious man is easy work for him, and Marc tosses him onto an altar inside the Chamber of the Gods with little regard to further injuring him.

The chamber may be destroyed, but the magic still lingers. It’s residual energy, and takes a while to dissipate, you’ve learned. You’ve stumbled into Wanda’s red swirls and had horrible flashbacks for hours too many times to not learn your lesson.

“If you can imprison a god in a statue, why not a person? The power in this room should help us bind Ammit to Harrow’s body.” You glance up to the ceiling. “Taweret? Got a spell for us?”

Instead of losing control of your voice, you can hear her in your mind, merely guiding your actions.

You nod after a few seconds. “Ok. She says to take my hand, and we can start the spell.”

The strange sensation is back, and this time you’re chanting in Egyptian, hardly understanding the words as a lavender glow wraps around the room.

It circles the statues of the gods. For how destroyed the room is, they’re still intact. It completes the loop, leaving Marc’s hand and ending in yours.

A lavender haze streams from the ceiling, funneling into Harrow’s mouth as his eyes snap open.

“You can never contain me,” he says, voice overlapping with Ammit’s. “I’ll never stop.”

Khonshu appears next to you. You’ve grown used to it now, barely reacting.

“Finish it,” he growls. “And leave neither of them alive.

As Marc stands above Harrow, knife at the ready, your stomach twists.

“While he lives, so too does she.”

“I have to finish this,” Marc whispers to himself. “If not, I’ll never be free.”

You furrow your brow. “Marc. You are free. This is your choice.”

Khonshu cuts in. “The choice is vengeance. We cannot take the chance that Ammit finds a way out. She will kill again.”

“Now you sound just like her,” Marc says.

He drops the man on the altar, and your heart swells.

“If you want them dead, do it yourself.” You can’t control the smirk on your face as he stares the god dead in the eye.

Right before he speaks again, he glances at you for reassurance. You nod.

“Now, release us.”

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

Recalling Gold

Warning: Nsfw Brief description of fingering, Night terrors, neck injury but its a dream, panick attack, Khopesh doesn't understand how to comfort, he's doing his best though. Hurt comfort

Tags: @kit-williams @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @barn-anon @sleepyfan-blog

Another follow up this time to Saving Water, which itself is a follow up to Severe Miscalculation. Both found here.

After a Massive acceleration in your relationship with the neighbor's Nightlord, you have to come to grips with some painful memories.

Next Chapter Found here!

After Khopesh had thoroughly "cleaned" your insides...

-

You groaned as your Nightlord went from petting your damp flesh to pumping three fingers inside your gummy walls. "! Khope-AH!!" It was so wonderful! But also too much, causing you to wriggle and squirm against Khopesh's unyielding chest.

He took exceptional glee in watching you convulse between grinding on his hand, and trying Desperately to get away from the overstimulation.

"MmmMm....ahhhp." He laved his broad tongue up your neck, sampling the taste of your skin dappled with water.

"Mm-MM! T-too much I-"

He nipped at his Lullaby's earlobe, Just sharply enough before pulling the soft delicate flesh into his mouth.

His actions sent tremoring shivers down your body as his fangs and tongue continued to lavish it inside his hot wet mouth!

"AH!" The tremors enhanced the pleasure rippling out from his fingers, and you reached your peak.

Breathlessly whimpering with a voice only he could hear, the tension in your body reached its apex. Your muscles straining and trembling against the hard wall of muscle and flesh behind you, as the aftershocks slowly ebbed.

As you lay there panting, with the overstimmulated half numb sparks still twinging from you core, Khopesh languidly removed his hand from your thoroughly used insides.

"Hmmm~" The Nightlord hummed, bringing the hand up to his face.

Tired as you were you did Not want him to smell it. The thought made you mortified with embarassment. "Please don't-"

Too late, but not the way you thought.

Khopesh proceeded to run his long tongue over the three fingers he'd just fucked you with, as if he was licking stray icing and not the acidic natural lubricant your body produced.

You were too drained to argue. So you settled for letting out the most disappointed embarassed groan you could muster while laying against the living mountain behind you with a huff.

"You're so gross..."

"Pfft," Khopesh snorted, but took no offense, instead gingerly lifting you from the floor, and finally turning off the shower.

You'd been hoping to get more time with him, but your raisin hands told you that you'd probably need to choose a less...wet setting for your next encounter.

Or at least one where your family wouldn't be footing the water bill.

"I am merely returning the favor." He stated, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

He strode out and placed your limp spaghetti body on the toilet. He then snatched fluffy towel, and wrapped it around your body, followed by another coming over your head.

"Besides..." He spoke softly, using the towel to frame your face like curtains as he brought his face close to yours.

"What kind of man would I be if I flinched from my Lullaby's scent? Not like I would anyway, your odor is not terribly pungent compared to the air of Nostromo, in fact it mostly smells like protein and flesh."

You felt his...compliment?? Scent description?? Reassurance?? But it also caused a new blush to erupt over your already heated skin.

His intense focus and proximity didn't help.

"D-dont just say that kind of thing!" You squeaked, pulling the sides of your face towel in and cutting you off from his dark eyes.

Not like it helped you could still feel his twinkling amused gaze and hear his low chuckling as you flusteredly dried your hair.

-

You both settled into bed. Not your regular twin, but the larger guest bed that could accomidate the both of you. (You texted your father to let him know you'd be sleeping in here, and wouldn't panic when you weren't in your normal room. You...simply omitted the full reasoning for it.)

Though you said he needn't feel compelled, he Insisted on remaining at your side for the night.

"Isn't Gary going to be home soon? I'm sure he'll wonder where you are..." Gary and Nancy being your elderly neighbors, one of whom was on a trip to see family.

Khopesh's expression took on an...exasperated air. "Vada has left on an overnight fishing trip with an old acquaintance...who's own space marine is apparently ludicrously territorial." He huffed. "And Muti's travel plans could not accomidate me easily. She preferred I stay home to watch over things...and make sure you did things properly." He added the last bit, with just a slight snide edge.

"You sure they didn't make you stay just so you wouldn't spook their company into cardiac arrest?" You responded dryly, knowing Full well Khopesh's propensity for pranks.

The ceiling drop voice mod combo that got you into this track of events being his favorite tactic.

You actually saw his cheeks darken a bit. "N-no! I would be perfectly behaved if either of them brought me! There was simply things to tend to here!"

"Like pranking then fucking me in a stall?"

"As if!" Khopesh harumphed. "That was not a duty, it was a pleasure." He growled pulling you closer. "A surprise one at that. One of the few boons of being stuck here alone."

Alone...ah, that made sense.

"Well," You adjusted yourself a bit. Honestly surprised this much physical contact was coming so naturally. "Just be careful when dad gets home. He'll probably be here late, but he always checks on me. I want to introduce you two....properly."

You could see the gears turning in his devious head.

"And No, you are not allowed to scare my dad."

"I wasn't going to..." He assured followed by a much quieter. "much."

You narrowed your eyes.

He averted his gaze, then sighed. "...Fine."

You let the disapproving look melt of your face. Replacing it with a slightly smug. "Good boy."

You saw another slight blush raise in his pale skin and he grumbled before turning out your light.

He kept one arm on you, and despite not sleeping with others often, (Most recent time you could remember was your mother comforting you during a panic attack, and you didn't stay the whole night.) You slotted yourself into his side, and the exhaustion from the days excitement was quickly pulling you under.

Your last thought was that you'd wished you'd grabbed some of your comfort items from your bedroom. But that was quickly forgotten as you drifted off.

...

You often dreamed.

Sometimes you didn't even remember what occurred when you woke.

Other times it came like fragments, all shifting colors and odd nuances from the day previous. Manifesting as brief glimmers of realities where you could be fully clothed at an aquarium one minute, then exposed in front of an auditorium of people where you were accepting your PhD in Medieval Weaponry the next and Nobody seemed to notice.

However, even those stress dreams paled in comparison to your true nightmares.

Odd landscapes where logic dictated you run through an obstacle course to earn points that would extend the life of a beloved pet, only for the mechanism to stop working and you watched helplessly as the numbers ticked down.

Only able to hold your sweet friend, and cry, until you woke and remembered they'd passed months to years ago, leaving you to actually start weeping.

Grief, trauma, it was funny like that.

Funny in how it could manifest despite years going by.

Especially if something lay...unresolved.

You were outside, fixing a leaning fence panel with your trusty elven rope, hay twine.

Your mother, who was somewhere in your peripheral, had always told you how she loved hay twine. How like elvish rope in stories it would hold strong, but could always be untied.

At least...you should be able to. This patch was giving you trouble.

Sweeeeetiebiiiiiiird

Your moms nickname, she was calling you, you swiveled your head around. It sounded like it was coming from the house but you couldn't be sure-

Something bright in the distance caught your eye, something that twinkled and reflected the light of the sun.

Sweetiebiiiiiiiird

Your mother's voice called again, slightly more insistent, definitely coming from behind you. But where?

'Mom?'

No answer...

Dread filled your soul as you frantically looked for your mother.

You glanced back to the field, you saw the silhouette behind the sun's glare, it was coming closer.

'No!...NO NO NO! MOM! MOM!'

You cried but your voice was hollow and dry. You wanted to run, but your legs felt like they were sinking into the earth, your hands now tangled and bound in the rope that was your tool.

Trapped, as the golden beast strode closer and Closer!

Sweetiebird? Come on, dear, we need to go...

If you don't come I'll have to come find you...

What!? No, NONONOON O ONONONO!

'He's here! He'll kill you! Run, run away! RUN AWAY!!' You begged with your ashen, volumnless voice, trying frantically to turn, to move, anything anything but this!

Crack!

A sickening sound echoed and your gaze fell to the ground below. Everything going sideways.

You saw your body slumped to one side. You smelled burning ozone and static.

You saw a pillar of shining gold, standing like an obelisk, in each massive hand it held one of your parents.

Strung like dolls, held by the necks like hunting trophies.

It's soulless red gaze turned to your removed head.

And you saw its golden helm split into a horrific grin, filled with sharp nashing mutilating teeth, and dripping half coagulated chunky blood.

Then you felt the ground below what was left of you give way, as the monster spoke.

"The Emperor Loves You."

"GASP!"

You shot up.

Which greatly confused the Nightlord residing on the other side of the mattress.

Beneath you was the spare bed. The pressure both comforting and smothering, the familiar contours of your guest room met your rapidly adjusting eyes.

But you still felt...you felt-

You needed water.

You clambered out of bed much to the surprise of Khopesh.

Your hands trembled as you ran the cold water. Cupping and splashing some onto your face.

Applying some to your neck, even splashing some up your arms and rubbing them up and down as you tried to regain control of your breathing.

"It was just a dream...just a dream..." You repeated, over and over, splashing water and running your hands over your neck. "Just a dream, you're alive, you're Fine, it was Just a dream..."

"Lullaby?"

You whipped your head around to see the huge figure of Khopesh still in the dark hallway.

Even without his armor you marveled at how you hadn't heard him move. But that thought was quashed when you saw your frazzled state in the mirror.

Red faced, still trembling with hard breathing, dripping with water and sweat.

You were a mess.

"Ah, I'm- I'm fine!!" You quickly tried to pull yourself together. Grabbing a hand towel to both dry and hide your face. "I just...had a bad dream. You don't have to be worried."

Khopesh did not look convinced. He leaned down to meet you at eye level, and his gaze was disturbingly serious.

"I do not believe you." He said flatly. "And I do not Like liars."

Embarassment burned and you felt frustrated and slightly hurt tears budding at your eyes.

"I'm Not Lying!" You shot back, your voice totally not wavering or cracking at all. "Maybe I just don't want to tell you about the awful shit I just had to relive-"

"SNRK-KK-Kk"

Khopesh whipped his head with a barely suppressed snarl on his lips at the interruption.

You recognized the sound and immediately hissed "Shut up!"

The Nightlord was stunned by your abrasive tone. But you continued before he could retort.

"It's just my dad, you idiot! Haven't you ever heard somebody snore before!?" You chewed him out at a whisper, before pushing past him and into your parents room.

Inside your father slept, naturally keeping to his side of the bed, even without your mother present.

"Snk! Kr krk krk kk..." You felt your coiled awful tension slowly unwind as you examined your father's breathing.

It was fine. He was fine.

Khopesh meanwhile was confused. Had you not told him to Avoid being seen by your father together?

You had to know he'd follow you, but...you seemed utterly distracted by something else.

Ever since you woke suddenly.

You strode past him back to the guest room and picked up your phone. Scrolling through the recent texts you saw one recently from your mother to the group chat for your farm.

She was fine, you were Fine. You finally let a shaky exhale leave your mouth, and slumped to sit in a heap on the bed.

Khopesh meanwhile stood awkwardly in the hallway, unsure of what to do next.

But seeing you look so...small, so alone in that room...he felt compelled to follow.

He took a seat next to you, and waited.

...

...

...

"...i'm sorry..."

Khopesh cocked his head, why were you apologizing?

"...i shouldn't have called you an idiot." You explained, meeting his dark gaze. "But I Wasn't Lying. I had a bad dream. Then I had a panic attack. It happens sometimes..."

The awkward silence drew out as Khopesh thought over his next words.

"I...was not referring to that." He responded.

Now you looked at him with confusion, he elaborated.

"You said you were 'fine' when you clearly weren't. I did not like that you were trying to hide your pain from me."

Khopesh brought his large pale hand to your face, gently thumbing the tear tracks still present.

"How am I to care for and protect you if you are not Honest with me?"

You-You felt the awful scrunching sensation in your face. The one that always preceeded tears that you did Not want seen.

"Snff! I just...I don't like people seeing me cry...I'm-im supposed to be the strong one you know?" You gestured vaguely, as he brought your face into both hands.

The floodgates were opening. "I've got to keep this place going, and my actual job, and housesitting and its tough! But...I love it! I wouldn't trade it for anything! You know Maybe I'd like some extra help..."

"But what really scares me, is that I almost Lost it all. I just...I just want my family to be safe..."

Safe?

"What do you mean?" Khopesh asked, this place was exceptionally safe, and that was not him shooting his own bolter, though he did contribute.

When he first came he faced veiled threats from no less than three white scars, outright threats from an Iron Warrior, And disturbing riddle speak from a wandering Death Guard.

It was only his devotion and bond with his Vada and Muti that gave him a pass.

His Lullaby averted their gaze, he may not be the Most emotionally intelligent, but he could tell when someone was recalling something discomforting.

"Something...bad happened." They said simply. "It was before you came here. And it involved...a Custodes."

Khopesh saw and felt your shudder.

A Custodes?

When he'd first arrived he'd made it a point to at least learn the basics of the different factions that were beyond his time period and scope of knowledge.

But even the most well traveled of his fellows had only cursory knowledge of the Emperor's golden elite.

He knew they were powerful, dangerous, but if one had caused problems there shouldn't Be any neighborhood left.

What in the Blasphemous Bowels of Nostromo had happened?

"Snff." Khopesh was pulled from his pondering as he noticed your fear and turmoil were ebbing into exhaustion. "I just wish it'd never happened...I don't understand Why it happened. It was so...senseless. And even though I know it wasn't my fault, in the back of my mind I'm still scared that someday he'll come back and...next time I might not be the only one who gets hurt..."

"He hurt you."

You glanced up into your Nightlord's face, and your heart iced over.

His eyes, they were completely still and dark. A sneer pulled at one side of his mouth exposing his sharp teeth.

He was furious.

Khopesh felt a bubbling growl form in his chest, building up with the incredible amount of rage boiling in the dark pit of his soul.

"Khopesh NO!" You cried.

"SNRK KR K kk kk"

You both froze until the snoring died down. Your hands had flow up to pin his own where they held your face.

As if that would stop him.

But he allowed you to hold him in place. Even as his rage was seething.

"You can't!" You hissed into the quiet.

"Why not!?" He growled back.

"Because you could die!"

"Death is not something we Astartes fear." Khopesh responded smoothly. "But your assailant Should fear...oh yes...he should fear pain...the pain of flaying, of burning, of gouging, of bones snapping-"

"ENOUGH!" You snapped.

"But-" He started.

"No! Just...no..." You sighed, and again he was reminded of your exhaustion.

Now you took his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes.

"Please, please...promise me that you won't seek him out." You plead, your sincerity forcing his flame of vengeance to calm.

Only a little, but it was enough.

He sighed, clearly deflating. "Fine...I will not attempt to hunt the Custodes who hurt you..." He promised, which seemed to sooth your worry. Probably because you didn't hear the barely audible breath of "for now." That followed.

"Good...good..." You sighed. Still clearly a bit wired, but your fatigue was clearly winning out.

But you could clearly still see his dissapointment.

"Look...as far as I know, he thinks I'm dead. Or maybe he's dead. Or got zapped back to wherever he came from." You explained, trying to sooth him. "Whatever the case, he's never come back. And...and I hope he never does."

"You shouldn't have to sit still and Hope." Khopesh growled.

"You're probably right," You agreed. "But sometimes thats just how life is."

Khopesh let out a dissatisfied sound, and pulled you into his lap.

Being this close to him, pressed to his scent and his skin, hearing his multiple hearts, it was soothing. You found yourself beginning to drift again.

"Do you need to go?" You figured he'd have laid back down with you.

"We only need four hours of sleep. I have rested enough." He replied, pressing his lips and running his fingers across your scalp.

"You're going on patrol then?"

"Hmmhm," He kissed your crown. "Yes, I'm feeling the urge to do so.

"Okay...be...safe..." You requested. "And...can I go to...my own bed?"

Khopesh smiled at the adorable request. "Oh course my Lullaby..."

He carried you gently, laying you down in your own bed and linens, he wished this bed was large enough for the two of you.

It had a much nicer lingering scent, and various soft items that were also clearly well loved.

He tucked your limp form in, and settled one of your soft toys into your arms. Even asleep you snuggled into the stuffed rabbit.

Next time he'd be sure to bring his helmet so he could snap pictures of this sight.

For now he silently removed himself from the house, no matter how badly he wished to stay. Even the animals didn't notice his departure.

Truly he'd inherited his Primarch's stealth and speed in such spades.

He made it back to where he'd left his armor, and found something interesting upon activating his vox.

A message from his nearby battle brothers. Apparently one of their own from out of town was visiting while his human was visiting family nearby.

It had been a while since he last visited his Claw, And meeting another battle brother from far away could prove fruitful for information.

Not to mention Fun, as most of his nearby brothers had grown wise to his favorite tricks.

As he now stand in his full armor Khopesh glanced back to the house where his Lullaby slept. He felt a mix of emotions. Longing, apprehension, fear...

Rage.

But that could wait for later. For now he began his patrol.

He had even more to protect now.

Dis? Dis has sequel now. Hup!

[directivexero]

don't give up on fighting games, fighting games won't give up on you

I wanted to make a follow up post to my big spiel from the other night, because tonight really put things into perspective for me. strap in everyone, this is a long one

I played in the PRIDEFGC Strive bracket today, and I got absolutely rinsed. but it didn't feel bad, I lost and it didn't feel bad for the first time in a *looooong* time. In fact, I felt incredible about how i played today. round 2 in losers was against another Sol, and i lost because they were very patient and taking advantage of space and whiff punishing me for everything. but also, my pressure on offense was really good and I managed to take a round off of them! and round 1 was special, and something so important to me and to fighting games as a whole

my round 1 was a bit of a mess, online brackets are never perfect. start.gg in particular is a real stickler for checking in on time and DQ'ing people bc they didnt get an email or a discord notification immediately. it happens, and it gets worse the bigger the bracket, and it was a massive bracket. something like 2 40ish player pools? that's huge for an online *charity* event, its bigger than some locals.

I was really upset about this at first. i was feeling myself today. taking yesterday off to just vibe, eat a decent bento box from my local japanese restaurant and play a bunch of DBD was a really good break for me. and i woke up this morning, nearly forgetting that i had signed up. i was signed up for a bracket last night, my online local Dust Up, but i had been timed out from the server for being a real shithead to myself and generally being unhappy with fighting games, because i had mentally tied my self worth to them without realizing it. but today was different.

I got some work done, got my stream schedule up for the week, played some more DBD (with friends this time) and just enjoyed a nice day. and then I got the email for the bracket and was like "oh shit right, i should probably show up for that". so i booted up Strive and hopped into training mode to warm up. and you know what? that combo that i had been struggling with? the one that took me almost 200 times to get right just the once? i got it on my first try, with the Clean Hit Tyrant Rave even! and while i couldnt replicate the clean hit again, i got the combo 20 more times in a row without a single drop

and this was a real shock to me. i didnt play at all yesterday, and i felt like i wasnt getting anywhere with the game. i was considering even swapping characters again to see if there was something that i was missing, to see if there was some fun i could have somewhere else. but in the end, i dont think i need it anymore. what I really needed, and what everyone was telling me and what i refused to hear, was that i just needed to give myself some room to breathe. taking a *single* day off made me more consistent with this combo, it just gave it time to rest and settle into my brain and hands. it's all i needed, and it was right in front of me the entire time. i just couldnt get it through my head

after this revelation, and was FUCKING *STOKED* to get into bracket. I saw who my first opponent was, Hazel. i recognized the name, they had taken second in the Granblue bracket last night. they were so exciting to watch, i was rooting for them the whole time! how could i not? they were playing my wife Narmaya, i wanted them to win so badly. and after an INCREDIBLE grand finals, they ended up in second. i was a little sad to see them not make it all the way, but I was so thrilled to see such good gameplay last night, and I knew I was gonna get some good games from them today

so we got the whole bracket situated, i messaged her on discord to make sure we were still able to play, got it sorted with a TO and met up in the park. they pulled up with a level 800 Bedman? and i was so excited. it was, a strange feeling, being in bracket, seeing a player i knew was a monster pull up with a character 700 levels above mine, and to be *this* ecstatic to be squaring up. and I have no idea how to play against the bed. nobody plays this guy. and i went in expecting to get rinsed. which i did! but it wasn't actually all that bad on the surface. I managed to block the overhead jump-in for the first time *ever* tonight, and I did it 5 more times over the course of the set. i still got blown up for not blocking the slow overhead and bedman's lows are deceptively far-reaching, and i just wasn't sure how to adapt to those. but that's okay! i did some very good things today, and my pressure was clean enough to take a round off of this very high level player. im so proud of what ive done, and im happy that ive finally escaped the fog that was clouding my mind for so long

and after bracket, i got up, refilled my drink, and hopped into the tower. i was *hungry* for more games. and I got smoked by a Slayer. just absolutely rinsed. but! i caught on to their tricks pretty early, and started to 6S more often than i ever had, and got a lot of counterhits! slowly getting a feel for that matchup, even reading how they follow up after Dandy step and punishing it accordingly. i also got a ping in BAN from RKP, one of the TOs there, looking for games. i responded almost immediately, i wanted to scrap more. they asked for a ft5 at first, but wanted to know if i wanted a ft10. i declined, because i could tell that i was reaching my limit. another step towards progress!

he met me in the park, asking to take player 2 bc he wanted to work on player 2 side inputs. we both pulled up looking to work on stuff, as i wanted to try to implement some of the whiff punishing i was just subjected to by that Sol player. and I got rinsed *again*. but! I landed my corner combo!!! (almost, dropped the HVV at the end, but its still progress) and I also did the correct follow-up after the counter-hit meaty Fafnir setup for the first time! i was so happy, RKP is so fucking good at this game and an incredibly nice person as well. grappler players play like sickos, but they're so sweet in reality.

and this is what its all about. i love fighting games so much. no other community, no other hobby, no other sport will you get camaraderie like this. you won't get this anywhere else. the passion, the love, the friendships. you won't get it anywhere else. everyone's gonna have their bad days, their bad weeks, sometimes even their bad months. but if you just take a breath, take a few steps back, make sure you've taken care of yourself, it will all be okay.

don't give up on fighting games, because no matter what, they won't give up on you

[haroldthehuckleberry]

Pregnant boy-toy part 2/3

cw: mpreg, sex, controlling language, speed pregnancy

we sat and spoke for a few hours about the baby but i couldnt take my mind off how fucking sexy he was, i dont know if its the hormones but his physique and just everything was sending me wild, luckily my mountain belly was hiding my rock-hard cock in my sweatpants. the same couldnt be said for him… his massive member was clearly solid in his tight jock strap, he moved on to the couch next to me and my cock and cunt only twitched for him more.

his massive hands rested on my belly that dwarfed the tanned, veined beauties on the end of his wrists, his right hand slipped my tight vest up over my mountain-belly letting every inch of its tight skin breathe meanwhile his left hand glided up and down my thigh as my cock twitched and my cunt pulsed for him. suddenly i looked at myself and realised how much id changed, normally no man could drive me crazy enough to want him this much but its true- i needed him. i needed to please him. a whimper of a moan slipped out my lips followed by his gruff voice saying “good boy” to sooth me, those goddamn words that pissed me off to no-end only months ago are now ruling me those two words nearly made me cum on the spot when he say this though he wasn’t impressed

“tut tut, no slut of mine cums before i allow it” he bellowed as he pinched my sensitive swollen nipple causing me to moan again and drizzle a little milk for the first time “s-s-sorry” i whimpered in hopes hed allow me to cum, “sorry *what*” he said assertively “sorry d-d-daddy” i mutter half ashamed at how far id fallen for this God-like man and half so turned on it was starting to hurt my cock, “what a good little slut” he grinned as he pulled me up by my back and escorted me upstairs…

————————————

i lost count of how many times he came on my stomach of mass proportion but i was still not allowed. and i loved it. to think only jours ago i would have scoffed and rolled my eyes over being used like a machine but this is what i needed this whole time, i needed this man to control me. i assumed after i was finally allowed to cum i would leave and later plan the babies up-bringing but my daddy had different plans…

after another few hours of not cuming daddy finally let me and it exploded all over my belly-base as my cunt twitched and throbbed while his cock was being pulled out, i felt his spawn and his cum sloshing around inside me, i was full. maximum capacity. i didnt think my belly could get bigger when i arrived but it clearly has, i cant even sit up and i know daddy will only punish me if i ask for help so instead i ask permission to fall asleep, he grants me it before he gets me to suck him off one last time, i must obey.

after a great night sleep i expected to wake up to a slightly deflated belly as i assumed the cum would have been absorbed or whatever but no… my belly was EVEN bigger again my skin was so tight it looked nearly see through i looked about 18 months pregnant!! “WHAT THE FUCK!!” i screamed “shut it slut!” daddy shouted back twisting my pecs that had also swollen more over night, this pain added to the sight and feel of my belly immediately made my cock and cunt stand at attention ready for anything daddy wants me to do “p-p-please explain daddy” i beg trying not to make it obvious im ready for him whenever he wants me, “ you see,” he growls “my cum isnt like any other, i can get you pregnant no matter how far along you already are, and my spawn tend to grow bigger than the average” he puts his hand assertively on my globe of a stomach “normally my sluts come to me only a few months in so i have more time to utilise their breed-able bodies but you where naughty, you came to me late. so for this, i must teach you a lesson”

authors note:

thank you so much for the love on part one! i hope you enjoy this part too i have a rough plan for maybe one more part so unless i get an amazing idea there will probably be one more part to this series!

[choconotfound]

this is so random and very late to the discussion from the other day: if youre a lurker/someone who wants to get Into Dtblr but you dont know where to start, speaking from experience (aka someone who lurked april 2021 -> june 2022) the Number One best way to Break In (imo) is through tags.

posting art or writing fics are also great ways, but not all of us are built like that 😭😭 and massive MASSIVE kudos to those who are (I definitely am NOT). writers and artists keep fandoms alive, so if you want to start, start now!

howeverr tags are so fucking essential and often extremely underrated! they give life to your reblogs!! they give your followers insight into your personality, interests, humour, etc. otherwise your URL will just be another undifferentiated note in a post* plus!!! not only do tags show up in the OP’s activity, anyone can poke around a post’s notes and read the tags. I definitely look at them, dtblr is funny af! sometimes if i see a funny or poignant tag in someone else’s notes, ill check out their blog and give them a follow!

not to mention some of the funniest, most poetic and wholesome posts on dtblr have been anon asks or submissions. so i know you guys have it in you!!!! if youre thinking about it, just do it. it might feel super weird to start posting or rbing out of the blue .. but all you really need is a pinned post (state your interests, the CCs you like, etc) and then its go time!

*im not saying you dont have a personality if you dont write in the tags 😭 but its objectively harder to get to know someone’s style of blogging without knowing What They Think, especially if theyre just starting out

[drdemonprince]

Loved the mini post about ABA!

Do you have any advice for what I could do to help Palestinians, practically speaking? Beyond a social media post.

My opinion is that while it's understandable for us to be asking that question, it's the wrong question. There is nothing than an individual person sitting halfway across the world with no immediate contact to the genocide can do.

I think it's because of our deeply individualistic, capitalistic, colonialist conditioning that we even believe that we could do something like that. I see so many people casting about for a way to resolve their feelings of anxiety and grief and to feel impactful in the face of such a cataclysmic event, and there is nothing at all wrong with the desire to make a difference, but I think that because we have been trained to see such matters in such personal terms that our way of responding to it ends up in practice being an elaborate blend of self-martyrdom and hubris that doesn't help anybody. speaking from my own tendencies that ive had to learn to root out here.

Part of the horror of this event that we have to grapple with is the incredible, uncontested power of nation-states, and how little impact any individual person has within the existing political system, and how much of that is by design. We are even barred for the most part from sending money directly to Palestinians because of the power that both nation states and credit card processors wield in our lives, and how consistently they oppose Palestinian liberation.

The things to do that I think matter are small, and will mostly enrich you and the people around you and help slowly build the social conditions that will make it possible for humans to break free of this state of being. Things like reading about the history of Palestine. Speaking with people around you about Palestine. Really deeply learning about nationalism, leftism, anarchism, critiques of nation states, communism, and the like. Nothing that can be incapsulated in a post. Nothing that will be finished in a day, a week, or even a year. Nothing that will make the horror of the present moment go away.

I think we need to actively push against the instinct in ourselves that this is a problem we can address in a post or a single donation or a call to a senator (who, let's be real, is deeply in the pocket of the Israel lobby and is also invested in America's military strategy that involves having a robust base in Israel and therefore will not listen). We can throw some money toward the humanitarian organizations that seem the least corrupt and the most likely to actually get some of that money in the hands of Palestinians, if we want, and offline we can take steps that cannot be posted about on here to slowly dismantle the authority of the state we are living under. But we are not going to fix this.

There is nothing that any one of us can personally do. We have to grieve. We have to accept how powerless we are so that we can envision and then work together to demand something better. Liberalism wants us constantly staying busy with small meaningless little attempts at feeling productive and virtuous.

But there is revolutionary power in just admitting to ourselves that we feel really fucking bad and that genocide is happening and that an entire history and culture is being erased. And we can do everything in our power to preserve that history. By reading, talking with others, sharing the stories of Palestinians, amplifying their calls, and following their lead.

I hope I dont sound too harsh here, I dont know you and I don't know your positionality related to all of this. so I am responding more to the general trend I have seen in how people handle this stuff and how brainwashed we have been to approach these massive death events as if they could be solved by us sharing the right infographics and calling the right people. We can't. And the only way we can move forward is by admitting to ourselves how unconscionable the entire political world is that facilitates things like this happening. There is no answer that will resolve the terrible feelings. There is nearly nothing we can do in the short term.

In the long term, we can be the kinds of people who understand why things like this happen, who know who our real enemies are, and who our comrades are, and we can work together to build the kind of massive fight necessary to topple something like this. If protests sound appealing to you, great. If starting a book club with your friends is feasible, that's wonderful. If all you can do is just self educate for an hour or two a week and then decompress, that's useful too. The most that you can do might be very little relatively speaking, and that's okay, none of us are the main character in this, and it's actually good for us to realize it. You will have to determine for yourself what you can to do bring yourself forward and better understand the present moment and the movement that we need. But you do have the ability to discern that. Just keep learning, keep building community, keep refining your vision of the desired future, and create room to grieve.

[nyctoaerah]

CHOSO WITH PAPARAZZI IS SO FUCKING REAL GIRL, becuz he's following the reader at literally everywhere and is keeping an eye on her (on that one line) so she doesn’t run away from her 'motherly' obligations. HES SO DELULU ONG😭😭😭 EVEN FUNNIER AT THE SEX ED PART, I CACKLED LITERALLY💀💀💀WHERE HE GOT HARD AND DOESN'T KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING🤓. I was giggling at that part until i read the fact that choso actually wants to bash reader's head😿 like baby, what did she do?😭

Btw Im binging your fics right now and im definitely getting euphoria.

✨YOU ARE LITERALLY THE FUCKING BEST.✨

PLEASE, DONT EVER QUIT WRITING, WE NEEDS YOURE AMAZING WRITING HERE

*Ahem* AERAH, WILL YOU MARRY ME?

Don't mind my shitty grammar because english isnt my first language👁️🫦👁️🤟🏻 IDFC IF IM BEING EXAGGERATED HERE, AERAH, YOU ARE THE BEST.

-😼

You literally made my day miloves🥹🫶🏻 AAAAAAA I'M SO GLAD THAT YOU'RE ENJOYING RETRIBUTION HEHE🫶🏻 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING RAHHHHHQ

Choso gotta learn his bodily functions w [Name] fr!😭 SKSKS, DW, I laughed when i was writing that too, I EVEN HESITATED ON MAKING THE READER SUGARCOAT HER LEARNINGS AND WAS LIKE “Nah, she’s gonna say it bluntly” SKSKSKS, she do be teaching choso with the same way aionarch taught her about sex😭

“I shall pass the trauma my father has bestowed upon me to you, and you will also pass them to your younger brothers” THIS IS HER KIND OF IMPLICATION THERE BAHAHAHA

AND BAHA, JUST BECAUSE CHOSO IS ACTING ALL DUMMY DOESN'T MEAN THAT HE'S SAFE😭😭 He ONLY WANTS HIS BROTHER and DOESN'T CARE for [Name] fr! Bro’s before hoes fr

PLS, CHOSO’S BEEF WITH HER WASN’T EVEN THAT BAD, BUT SATORU’S BEEF WITH HER IS😭😭 Like girlie didn’t even do anything to him (and they haven’t met him) and now he has this big fat beef with the reader😭😭 like first, he wants to gobble her up to get ‘more powerful’ AND NOW HE'S JEALOUS OF HER LMFAOOO. AND SKSK, STAY TUNED FOR MORE BEEF 😭 CAUSE MORE PPL ARE GONNA HAVE A BEEF WITH HER. BUT SHE ALSO HAS A BEEF WITH OTHER PEOPLE LIKE TOJI THOUGH BAHA.

And I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS🫶🏻🫶🏻 WE ARE GETTING MARRIED RN AND I’M PUTTIN’ A RING ON YOUR FINGER POOKIE💍 ILYSM🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻 I LITERALLY HAVE A MASSIVE GRIN ON MY FREAKING FACE BECAUSE OF YOU RAHHHHH, AND DW BAE, I AM NOT QUITING AS LONG AS I HAVE PASSION!