#I can't fucking tell if it's trying to make a point or if it's just 2003 or whatever and everything fucking sucks

[hvnlygrl]

hii can u do rafe cameron

can u pls do soft!rafe cameron or soft!jj maybamk where reader and him get into an argument and then he storms out and then the next morning reader gets her period, and when he comes home he just sees her lying on the bed eith a heating pad so he decides to make her a cookie skillet with nutella in it and ice cream on top of it and when he gives it to her she immediately starts sobbing and covering her face with the back of her hand telling him how shes so sorry and that she wished she never foughr with him and then he just comforts her and helps her eat while they watch a movie

i take it all back.

pairing — rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count — 1.3k

warnings — lotta cussing, reader gets a little mean, argument between rafe/reader, hurt/comfort.

synopsis — after a fight with rafe due to your hormones during that time of the month, he goes out of his way to make you feel better.

notes — sorry i kinda went in a little bit of a different direction with this i hope that's okay! but the general idea is still the same... thank you for the request! it's such a sweet idea <3

it had never bothered you before, the sound of rafe on his game in the spare bedroom, but for some reason the loud sounds of him on the headset with his friends were driving you up the wall while you tried to watch your show in the living room. 

you sighed out in annoyance when you heard him for what seemed like the 20th time in 5 minutes, “GO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? TOPPER GET HIS ASS!” 

you clicked the volume up on the t.v. in front of you, head beginning to ache from the loudness of the show mixed with the loudness from the game room. you were unsure of how to handle the situation. you didn’t want to ruin rafe’s fun on the game, and you surely didn’t want to start an argument with him but you couldn’t take it anymore. 

you paused the show, stood from the couch and stomped your way down the hallway. you didn’t bother knocking on the door since you knew he wouldn’t hear it, instead opening it as soon as you reached it. “rafe,” you called out. no answer. he continued clacking at the keys on the p.c., shouting orders at topper and kelce over the headset. “rafe,” you called out again, quite a bit louder this time. still no answer. 

at this point you were fed up. you were unsure of where the blind rage came from, but before you knew it you yanked the headset from his head. 

“what the-y/n? what the fuck are you doing?” he shouts at you, his eyes flitting back and forth between the computer screen and your angered expression. 

“can you shut the fuck up, dude? i’m trying to watch my show,” you grumble at him as if it's obvious. 

“woah,” he cocks his head back at your statement, “chill out.” 

now you’re really pissed. “don’t tell me to fucking chill out!” 

“babe, it’s not that serious,” he continues clacking at the keys on the game. 

“it is that serious. you try watching your favorite show and listen to me hooting and hollering from the next room. it’s fucking aggravating and i can't take it anymore right now.” 

rafe rolls his eyes. “i don’t know what you want me to tell you, y/n, it’s really not that serious. i’m doing my thing and you’re doing yours. you don’t see me busting through the door to get on your ass about the t.v. being too loud.” 

you can hear the oohs and ruh-rohs coming from the headset, only adding fuel to the fire. 

“oh my god, dude, can you just act like a fucking adult for five minutes? you don’t have to play fortnite every single night with your gay ass homeboys. maybe you could spend time with your girlfriend instead of being on the game from the second you get home until hours after i fall asleep.” 

“that is so not true and you know it, bruh.” 

“if you’re gonna play the game and not even interact with me, then just go do it at your own damn apartment. i’m not fucking dealing with this right now. i have a migraine and i don’t want you here tonight.”

rafe can't ignore the pang that shoots through his heart at your words. “seriously? you’re kicking me out?” 

“yeah,” you mutter softly before leaving the room and heading back to the living room. cramps begin overtaking the muscles in your stomach, only adding to your agitation. you breathe out shakily, your throat beginning to tighten as you watch him grab his bag and storm out. 

once the door slams behind him, a wave of guilt washes over you, your eyes watering as you smack yourself for kicking him out. all you wanted was for him to stop being so loud and now he’s on the way back to his apartment, pissed at you for embarrassing him in front of his friends and for sending him home.

you lie down on the couch, allowing the tears to stream freely as your thoughts get darker and crueler toward yourself. you sob deeply, arms wrapped around a pillow until you finally fall asleep. 

about an hour or so later you wake up, shuffling into the bathroom, you notice your appearance in the mirror; cheeks puffy and eyes swollen from crying. the sight only makes you feel worse. you sit on the toilet, letting out a harsh sigh when you notice the blood that pooled in your favorite pair of panties. after already feeling like a piece of shit both physically and mentally, here was mother nature three days early, ready to screw you over even more. 

you couldn't help but tear up again at the inconvenience, suddenly realizing what happened tonight. you wanted to slap yourself for being so stupid and not noticing the signs, but you knew that it was too late now. after heading to your bedroom to find a new pair of underwear and shorts, and spotting the dirty pair before throwing it into the wash, you head back to the living room. 

your heart beats in your throat as you pull out your phone to text rafe. 

after the conversation with him you felt a lot better about the situation, but you were still feeling pretty upset. you rummaged through the kitchen, checking the cabinets and the fridge and freezer for any type of food that would satisfy your cravings. of course, you had absolutely nothing that would help. you sighed as you shuffled back toward the living room, opting to just lie on the couch and watch your show until you fell back asleep. 

you knew the thought was dramatic, but you couldn’t help but wonder when your life turned into this; alone in an apartment that was too big for you with nothing you wanted and no one to share it with. 

and then you heard a knock on the door. despite it being his signature knock, you couldn't stop yourself from checking the peephole, heart fluttering when you saw the blonde on the other side of the door.

you quickly opened it, a soft smile on your lips. “what are you doing here?”

“did you really think i was gonna let you be alone on night one?” rafe raises a brow at you before revealing two grocery bags he’d been hiding behind his back. he had made a run to the local store for all your favorite sweets, chips, icecream, drinks, and anything else he could think of. he even bought you a heated stuffed animal that could be thrown into the microwave and used as a heating pad.

“baby,” your lips curl down into a frown, eyes watering at the gesture, “you’re too nice to me.” 

“of course i am,” he chuckles as he sets the items down on the coffee table, “you’re my girl.” 

you watch in awe as he grabs your favorite cup, fills it with ice and pours your drink into it. then he grabs the stuffed turtle (your favorite animal) and heads to the kitchen to throw it into the microwave for a couple minutes. 

“get comfy, babe,” he calls out to you, “get your show set up, do whatever you gotta do.” 

you smile at him sweetly. “you didn’t have to do all this, rafe.” 

“i know,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “i wanted to.” 

“thank you,” you whisper when he brings the warmed turtle over to you. you moan happily when you stick it onto your lower abdomen, the sensation immediately easing some of the pain. “i don’t deserve you.” 

“sure you do,” rafe huffs as he kicks his shoes off and gets comfy next to you, “how many times have you taken care of me? saved my ass without me even thinking to ask you for help?” 

you nod, “yea, i guess you’re right. i’m sorry about what i said earlier baby, i take it all back.” 

“don’t stress,” he holds his hands up, “water under the bridge, my girl.” 

you smile at him, admiring his features before turning your gaze back to the t.v. and snuggling in closer to him. “i love you.”

“i love you,” he parrots back, hand rubbing at your lower back in the spot that he knows typically bothers you. 

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @lanasb0ngwater

[astracora]

Turning Point - Part 1

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc (MC POV/Sylus-centric POV)

Warnings: Lots of hurt/tiny bit of comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability.

Word Count: 3517

Written: 3rd January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. I find Sylus easier to write, but all LADs are present. Don't ask me if I'm working through some stuff... I can't say I'm not. This is Pre-Cat Curse. I'll try to do the more comfort, actual communication part sometime soon.

Now Playing: The Foundations of Decay, by My Chemical Romance

Masterlist AO3

Next ->

When you close your eyes it's all you can see. The metal bar through your shoulder. The debris crushing your arm.

You can't feel it anymore.

But you can see it.

You hate Mysts. You hate EVER. You hate that you fucked up and let your guard down. Falling for a trap you're not even sure was for you, or just some fucked up experiment they'd been carrying out with their new toys.

You hate that you woke up changed, you hate that when you'd seen hospital walls you'd expected to see Caleb there like he was throughout your teen years. Or Zayne, clipboard in hand, ready to lecture you on being more careful, on taking care of yourself.

You hate that Jenna sent you home, for the foreseeable future, to recover. To do your stupid physical therapy. To sit at home and stare at yourself in the mirror. Aches and pains and phantoms lurking over your limbs, your shoulder.

You hate having to lock Mephisto out, drawing your curtains. You hate pretending you're not in, whenever Xavier comes knocking. You hate switching off your phone so Rafayel can't contact you.

You hate being this weak, useless creature.

You hate the core in your chest.

You hate what made you like this.

You hate that your instinct is to run away and hide.

A wounded cat in an alleyway, lying down in a corner, hoping the heat of your fur doesn't fade.

Hoping you don't freeze to death where no one thinks to look for you.

You hate that even when you wish someone would find you, only one person ever made sure to look, and he's gone.

You feel like you did when you watched your home disappear into flames, you feel that horrible acrid disgust in your stomach. The feeling that if you could kill what made you feel like this, you'd be alright again. You'd be able to breathe again.

The feeling that dropped you into The Nest with no concern for yourself, just a goal in mind.

The feeling that put you into Sylus' lap, gun in hand, snarling.

You feel like you did when you were told by Dr Noah that there was no cure for what lurked in your heart, that it could kill you, that no one could tell you when.

The feeling that had you abandoning any vision of a future.

The feeling that sat you in front of Caleb, wounds bleeding over his hands, because then you felt something else.

You don't have the name for them, they have been constant companions throughout your life, but you don't even know their names. You're so very tired of them, though. Wishing that they would leave you be, to let something lighter and warmer settle where they once sat.

Choosing your family, however, is often difficult.

The room is dark around you, every curtain drawn, all the lights turned off. Huddling in the corner of your bedroom, blanket wrapped firmly over your body so you can't see. Can't look and see every mottled bruise, every uneven harsh scar, every bloody bandage that you can't bear to change.

The place your arm used to be.

If you look away, if you don't stare at it, if you focus really hard, you can feel it.

You can pretend…

Even if the pain bites at your shoulder.

Even when the medication you can't make yourself take without throwing up, stares at you across the room. Where you'd thrown it in your trembling hand. Limbs so weak, walking aches every step.

You'd fallen to the floor, curled up and stayed.

You think you should be crying, but you can't seem to feel anything other than those old feelings and the pain. Like they're keeping you tethered to this reality. Chains around you, digging into your throat, tearing at soft skin.

Part of you is aware you have to keep moving, if you don't take care of yourself… you'll see Caleb sooner than you should. That he'd be sad that you stopped trying. That moving forwards is important. That there's still good you can do, meaning to be found.

It's the last logical strain of your mind that reminds you people will eventually find you, if you fade to nothing here. That they'll be hurt.

Even worse if it's Tara… Zayne… Xavier… Rafayel… Sylus…

It's only a small voice, easily ignored, in favour of fighting against the chains around your neck. Trying to keep you here, in a world you don't want to be in. In a reality that keeps ripping at you.

So you shrink in on yourself, flinching when you try to tighten a hand you've lost around the soft wool of the blanket, and curl inwards.

It has to get better. Quieter.

It has to.

—-----

Sylus stands outside the apartment door, staring at it. His knocks have gone ignored, his messages unread. Mephisto hasn't been able to even spot a hair on your head. He's not used to not knowing where you are, to not being able to keep track of you. Even if you don't respond, he at least knows if you're safe.

You've made no indication that you don't want him around, ever since that moment you'd rushed across a crossing to demand he never disappear on you, you'd not pushed him away.

He can't think of anything he's done that will have changed that. At least, he's almost sure he hasn't… The idea that he has sinks into his gut, twisting and biting like an agitated snake.

If he's to be devoured by any snake, it needs to be you and your EVOL link.

He's staring at the handle, wondering whether to snap the thing, or break into your security system. There's other hunters in the apartment block, the longer he stands out here the bigger the risk.

Of course, if he's caught breaking in… that would be another thing.

Perhaps if your balcony is unlocked, he can use his EVOL to get to you that way.

Why did he never register himself into your security system before now?

"Oi."

He's surprised that someone could sneak up on him, he's less surprised when he sees the wanted Lemurian standing behind him. Turning, the bright eyed fish is staring, "You here for any particular reason, or are you staring at doors for fun?"

Sylus can read the wariness in his eyes, he knows of your companions, he's got a good database of information about them, this one is the one with the most amount of secrets. Even parts he can't dig up. There's a small flicker of recognition in the fish's eyes as he looks at him, an acknowledgment that means Sylus has been figured out.

Though he doesn't feel a threat from it. There's recognition and then there's being made. Whatever the fish wants, it's nothing to do with him. He wonders if you've talked about him at all.

He wants to test it. "Skye." Hand extended, "I'm looking for the little kitten who lives here."

There's another flicker, and this one he doesn't understand, but it softens the glare a little bit, "Rafayel. So you're that friend of Cuties. I'm here looking for them too." This time his glare turns into a frown, disgruntled, agitated.

There's a lot Sylus can read. The fish, Rafayel, is struggling to balance all the feelings he's drowning with.

"So, have they responded to you at all?"

"No."

The frown on Rafayel's face is familiar, Sylus has seen it in his mirror, after staring at all the unread messages, after finding Mephisto without information yet again.

It's been days, and he knows he can't give you space anymore. While he respects your boundaries, he knows there's always a very real risk you could disappear. It might not always be a conscious choice you make. He doesn't want you dying in an alley alone.

If you're going to die, you're going to die with him, in his arms, with company.

He imagines those around you, feel much the same.

"Me too." This time he does hear the approach. Two sets of footsteps. When he turns, he picks out your hunter partner, and your doctor. The two look frazzled. Like they've run here.

The doctor wipes his forehead, as he looks over at Sylus and Rafayel, he doesn't have the same reaction to him that Rafayel did, but his sharp features are not welcoming. The hunter on the other hand, stops, hand flashing in light, and Sylus gets a jolt of 'danger', before it fades.

Bright blue eyes widen a little bit, and then the hand relaxes, looking at the little crow phone charm dangling from Sylus' phone that sits in his hand. Quiet. Lonely.

"Why are you here?" The edge doesn't leave the hunters voice, but the words are aimed specifically at Sylus.

He lets himself laugh, a huff of air, rather than any real humour, "Now, now Crown Prince. I'm not the enemy. I'm… a friend."

He watches the hand tense, light flickering again, blue sharpening into ice. Ah, Philos. Always did make the most easily tormented creatures.

"Crown Prince?" The doctor turns his head to the hunter, who huffs, turning his head away.

"We have more important things to think about now, don't we?" Sylus offers, somewhat a truce. If he can get to his kitten, he doesn't really care if he has to tolerate the prince. Or the fish… or the doctor with the pretty forest eyes.

There's bigger problems. The door.

The hunter wavers, looking at the door, protective, ready to fight if he has to. Sylus thinks he resembles a knight, more than a prince. Perhaps they all are in some way. Rushing to the door of their reckless little hunter.

"Are you-"

"Friends." Sylus interrupts the doctor, "Skye."

"Rafayel."

The prince stays quiet, introductions clearly done in the past.

The doctor nods, "Zayne, I've heard of you all. Very well." He indicates the files he's holding, "We have returned from the Association. They were injured in the line of duty, they were sent to a specialist, and have since returned and been taken off active duty until they have fully recovered."

Injured.

Taken off active duty.

Sylus tries to take the information in, but he gets distracted by the tense line of the doctor's jaw.

"You're angry."

The doctor blinks, turning his head away a little, "I don't know what you mean."

Rafayel peeks over, head tilted, "I'd be angry too, if as their doctor, cutie didn't come to me."

Ah, he watches Zayne glare at the fish, before he straightens himself out, so that's it. The doctor feels unwanted.

Helpless.

Sylus is familiar with the feeling, even if he hates it. He has to defeat it. He has to make sure this does not happen again.

"Well, best go greet kitten then."

He hears someone mutter, "Kitten?" behind him, but he's buoyed by the information that his kitten isn't just running away from him needlessly. You need help, you need support. You're hurt.

So he reaches over to the security lock on your door, and with his EVOL, crushes it inside out. Pushing the door open.

"Well shit." The fish speaks, "You really are him, huh?"

"The one and only, fish." Sylus shoots back, but doesn't stop. Pushing through the door and entering the apartment.

He makes a note to fix your door as soon as this is over.

It's no surprise Mephisto can't see you, the place is dark. His eyes flicker around the room, he hears the doctor knock into something, and the prince uses his EVOL to give them a floating star to illuminate.

Sylus feels like he should be making notes, these people are the closest people to his kitten, other than the other hunters you're closest to. Every bit of information he has about you, builds that puzzle up, but he notices blood on the floor.

Bandages torn and ripped.

Things knocked off sides, scattered to the floor.

"Cutie?" The fishes voice rises in concern, moving ahead of them, to walk over to the bedroom.

There's a twitch to Sylus' fingers that is unfamiliar. Fear making his EVOL flicker and flare, ready. He thinks it's close to fury.

Whoever did this, he'll find, and he'll make sure they can never do it again.

When they enter the bedroom, you're there. Curled on your side, blanket soaked through with sweat and blood. Eyes flickering around you weakly. Zayne stops walking, picking up a prosthetic from where it's been thrown across the room. Hands shaking as he turns it, then turns his gaze back to you.

Sylus is hard to throw off, he's not used to seeing you hurting. You have often hidden your wounds from him, he's always had to follow you, or chase you down to be there when you need a hand. You push him away if he gives you the choice, when it comes to support. You fiercely lick your own wounds, and pretend you're fine.

He remembers the snarl in your throat when you pressed a gun to his head, demanding absolution and justice for the death of those you cared about.

Despite his aching heart for the way you hissed 'Monster' at him, your fire was always delicious to taste. Even if it scorched his mouth.

You were never this. This small, shivering kitten, huddling further away from him when he steps forwards. A hurt, broken mewl out of your mouth.

The light flicks on, and you cry out, covering yourself fully with the blanket. Struggling in the process.

It gives him a chance to really take everything in, and he wishes the light had stayed off.

A bloody handprint is on the floor, before it drags away, like a claw. There are old bandages, caked in blood and dried up, around you. Medication packets thrown across the room. Your blanket is dirty and the smell indicates you haven't moved, or showered, or done anything but ache and bleed.

He wants to approach you, but the shivering… he looks at the doctor, "Do something." His voice isn't as hard as he wants it to be, it's fragile and… weak, and he doesn't want it to be weak. He needs to be strong, he has to be strong. You need him to be strong.

Zayne doesn't need urging, he approaches you carefully, a hand settles gently on your blanketed form. You jerk away, a dry sob ripping its way out of your misused voice.

"Darling. Come on, let me see."

Rafayel and Xavier hover on the edges. Sylus thinks he might look like them. Unsure, worried, trembling. Fear in their gut.

So this is what love can do, when it hurts.

You always bring new things into his life, he just wishes it was not at your expense.

At your pain.

Sylus grabs the prince's wrist, "Come."

Xavier tenses, but nods stiffly, following him. Rafayel looks at you, as Zayne coaxes you from the blanket to check on you, and though his feet struggle to move, he follows as well.

When he has led them into another room, he begins to pick things up off the floor. "Help me." He doesn't offer anything else, this is too much even for him. He doesn't want to open his feelings up to them, no matter how important they are to you. He needs to do something, though, and until he can get information out of you, he can't deal with who hurt you.

He can't do what he wants to do. Bleed, and rip, and tear, and destroy.

He can't burn whatever touched you.

Sylus is relieved when they follow him, the hunter knows where things are in your home. The fish busies himself with looking through your fridge for anything that past its best by date. He doesn't find anything, so orders from his phone.

They have to eat, he'd muttered to himself.

Sylus has never heard a siren's voice break before.

He wonders if you sound as beautiful when you cry, and let him hear.

The cleaning is methodical, though the scent of your blood doesn't ease away. He has to open a window, to air the place out, before it stops suffocating him. He's irritated by the hunger it incites in his stomach. Like he wants to bury his face into the bloody bandages and taste them.

A feeling of greed and hunger he doesn't seem able to fully get rid of. No matter how much he wants to need you in every other way than this.

When food arrives, Rafayel takes it into the kitchen, easing himself into cooking basic fish soup. The smell replaces the scent of blood, and Sylus can breathe easier.

While the fish and the prince are busy, and the worst of the mess is cleaned. Including broken shards of glass, and smashed photo frames. Sylus walks closer to the bedroom. He wants to just clean up the mess in there, so you can exist, and not see blood everywhere. Instead, he finds you, blanket pulled down, while the doctor wipes blood from around your shoulder.

His feet pause, and he meets your mismatched eyes. Scars ripping through the side of your face.

"Kitten." He exhales, and watches as you flinch, trying to bury yourself back in the blanket. The doctor takes your face in his hands, breathes with you, and soothes the hackles rising.

"It's alright."

"Don't look." You croak out, pleading at Sylus, both of them. Begging them not to see you.

He sighs, and he approaches, kneeling in front of you, hand reaching out to take your one. Soothing the flinch, the hair raising, with a steady pressure of his thumb against your skin. "Now kitten, I always want to look at you. You know that."

Your eyes glisten with tears, before you look back at Zayne, sniffling through the pain, "Hurts."

The doctor nods, "I'll need to resuture some of your wounds, I brought my tools with me, but you will need to go back into the hospital for checkups." When you try to pull away, both he and Zayne keep a handle on you. So you can't escape, so you can't fall back. So you can't stumble.

"You also need to start your therapy, if you avoid it, you will struggle even more."

"No." You snap, biting at the bit. Sylus thinks if you had a dragon's teeth, you'd sharpen them against their flesh. "I don't want it, I don't need it."

"You do need it." The doctor's brow furrows, frustration coming through his face. At himself? At you? At this situation? Sylus' couldn't tell, maybe all of it. "You need to take care of yourself."

They're both surprised when you hiccup, when your sob lets itself out. When you fall forwards. He watches your shoulder flinch, and your hand pulls out of his to cover your face, and you shatter.

Sobbings, breaking, choking on air.

He isn't sure what he's supposed to do, but he doesn't get much time to think. You're pulled forward by the doctor, into both of their arms, due to how close they are. His arm hooks around you, balancing you, so they both can hold you. The smell of blood tickles his nose again, but this time, he buries his nose in your neck. You smell like they've pulled you back from decaying, and it hurts the heart he gave to you so many years ago.

Eventually you settle, breathing again for them, fingers trembling where your hand is trapped between their bodies.

When you pull away, tears have streaked down your face, smearing dirt across your cheeks. Zayne reaches his hand out to wipe away some of it, but he lets out a soft sigh, "We need to get you cleaned up so I can take care of you."

Your eyes downcast, staring at the floor. You look ashamed, and it bites at Sylus' heels, so he presses a kiss against your cheek. Which makes the look morph to shock. "We can get the fish if that helps, I'm sure he'll make sure you don't drown."

The nod is weak, tired and worn, even though he watches your eyes flicker to your wounds, to your shoulder, back to him. Like you're realising it means someone else seeing you.

He wishes you'd see yourself the way he sees you. The way he can tell the doctor sees you. The way he's sure the prince and the fish see you.

It's not enough to tell you, though, you have to learn it yourself. So he stands, stopping momentarily when your hand tightens against his shirt, eyes widening. He watches the scar tissue tug, he watches the hand tremble where its grasping him. So he puts his over it, "I'm not leaving, kitten. When you're clean, when you're stitched back up, we'll talk, and eat. Alright?"

Sylus feels the heat settle around his heart, like your hand is holding it, when you nod. A tiny bit of fire returning to you.

To the tenacious light of your eyes.

[sulumuns-dootah]

This might not be very good request but it seems adorable in my mind…falling asleep on the kings? Maybe watching a movie or something and we just conk out. This may come from the fact that I’m a hardcore Leviathan hater but I feel he’d push us to the ground 😪

Falling asleep on the WHB kings

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The moment Satan notices you're out, he looks down at you and can't help but smile

You look so peaceful which is a welcomed change from the constant stress of angel attacks

He'll try to lay still for you, but can't promise anything

If he needs to move, he'll first try and test to see how deep asleep you are before picking you up and moving you either to bed or back where you fell asleep

       ༺☆༻

This man is as comfortable as a rock

I know we technically slept on him in the main story, but c'mon... just by looking at him you can tell his muscles could cut glass

So if you happen to fall asleep on him, he'll remain unmoving

A part of him is giddy that you feel this comfortable around him and that you see him as your protector

       ༺☆༻

Now, Leviathan pushing you to the ground depends on how close you are

And since he even considered to allow you to watch a movie with him, I'm guessing you're kinda closer

Okay so, if you fall asleep on him, he probably won't mind right away

But he won't try to be still for you either

He'll pretty much ignore you

At least until he has to get up or something

Only then he'll push you off and whether it's gently back onto the surface you're on or the floor depends on how close you are

       ༺☆༻

Another one that I'm not sure how you fell sleep on

Staying still is damn near impossible for Beel

And honestly, 0/10 would recommend falling asleep on him even if you could

Like the jokester he is, the moment he sees you're asleep, he's getting the marker out and doodling on your face

Honestly, I'd say the only time you're safe falling asleep from his shenanigans is after getting your insides rearranged and Beel feels all lovey-dovey

       ༺☆༻

Let's be honest here

Belphegor is the first one to fall asleep

So you can safely fall asleep too

And if do happen to beat Belphie to it, he'll just chuckle

'Who's the slothful one now, huh?'

All in all very wholesome ♥

       ༺☆༻

Watching a movie?

It maybe started that way, but you surely don't end the evening that way

Over the course of the movie transitioned you from sitting next to him to cockwarming him and to making you bounce on his lap

So the only way you could pass out is from all the action

At that point when your body slumps down against his chest, he'll just continue fucking up into you and groping your body

Only after he finishes for the nth time, he'll check if you're okay and slip out of you to set you down to rest next to him

       ༺☆༻

Writing these last four kings is always funny bc of how they usually go back and forth :D

Lucifer is the exact opposite of Asmo

When you fall asleep on him, he'll try to move without waking you up so you don't have to sleep in such an awkward position

In moments like these, he also allows himself to get a bit more clingy and cuddles up with you more

Too bad you're not awake to feel all his affectionate touches and gentle kisses all over you face :(

[sensualdominance]

Did I ever tell you about the time I discovered I was into femdom? Like, actually into it, more than just those little fantasies I had in my head sometimes?

I'm at a friend's place, and we're playing a drinking game, just me and him. We've known each other for maybe around 5 years at this point, but this is the first time we're both single at the same time.

One question and task after another, and then, he's asking about my kinks. I definitely do not get nervous and try to hide it by making him say what he thinks I'm into.

He comes closer to me. We've made out before, but always as a dare from the drinking game. This time, there's no dare.

He kisses me, and we start making out. It gets heated fast, and our hands trail feverishly across each other's bodies. I feel like all my barriers are down.

I won't lie, he doesn't get it right at first try. I can't fault him for that, all he knew about my preferences at the time was that I liked girls, too. But honestly, though I do really like girls, I also have a stronger preference.

A preference for submissive men, men who'll kneel at my feet and look at me like I'm the world to them, men who'll love it as I tease them, men who'll moan as I fuck them.

When he finally says those words, "Or are you the one who wants to fuck me?" I remember a sensation of almost like something being poured over my head. Yes, yes, that is exactly what I want, and I slide my hand to his throat to grip at it, lifting my head from kissing it to nod.

He chuckles and says "Then fuck me, miss" (I teach him to call me mommy later, I'm currently otherwise occupied) and I slide my fingers to his lips, into his mouth, down his throat, to discover he has no gag reflex...

Fast forward 2 years, and we are now happily in an open switchy relationship, which, by the way, has been open the whole time we've been together! I know some might find that odd, but we love and trust each other enough in a way it works for us.

[laswells-ashtray]

Okay, here me out on this. Gonna do this anonymously cause social anxiety is scary and I've never left an ask before, first time for everything I suppose. :')

I was randomly just watching the missions for MW3 cause I loved the concepts of some of them, just hated how most of it played out (Like how did Graves survive being blown up? Or how it felt like the story was rushed at points). Then I remembered the mission where Price got trapped in that silo thingy with the poisonous gas stuff that I cannot remember for the life of me what it is called (Think the mission was called Reactor,if you wanted to look it up if I don't explain it that well). Loved that mission cause to me it showed that Price wasn't this almighty powerful captain that doesn't get injured that badly compared to everyone else in 141.

Had a random thought of just the in-between part of when Price passed out to when he woke up on the helo. Was scrolling through the random posts and when I got to the one where Mac had met Price's team and stuff all I could think about was what if Gaz or Soap or anyone who's met Mac just tell Nik or Laswell to call for grandpa. I find it hilarious just the thought of Price's subordinates panicking over the fact that their captain, (and practically father figure sometimes due to how often he mother hens them), had inhaled poisonous gas then passed out and wanted help from someone who's known Price for years. Then cue Mac just showing up on base in Price's office or calling Price really late at night being like "You have 5 seconds to explain what happened and how in the world you got into that situation Mister. I do not care that you're a captain now I still hold seniority over you Price, I will pull that card you little shit." Cause despite the fact that Price was a pain in the ass when he was Mac's sergeant he still cares for the stubborn Brit's wellbeing.

Sorry if I started ranting, I love cod and finding the posts have made me do my happy stims. :) Especially reading the silly ones, always makes me feel better when having a bad day.

Made me get my glasses for this one, in a good way I'm just blind as shit. A little bit. Also never apologise for ranting, this is a safe place for ranting, rambling and threats of bodily harm but only if they're polite about it.

Firstly, I know exactly what mission you're talking about because I can't get past the second juggernaut and had to rage quit because I was giving myself a stress headache.

Secondly. I've missed writing more Mac if only because I have to write so English-ly for everyone else.

When the door opens, John doesn't look up. He assumes it's Nikolai coming to check on him, Ghost popping his head in to call him a twat again or one of the sergeants asking how he's doing. He doesn't expect to see the same, worn soles of some battered old boots that he's been trying to convince Mac to get rid of for over ten years park themselves on his desk.

Nor does he expect to see Mac watching him, arms crossed over his chest, and a look of blatant fury on his face that makes the hair on the back of John's neck stand up.

His chest is still tight and there's a familiar ache in his throat, he's too old to be getting fucking gassed anymore. Whatever cancer he'll be riddled with in ten years is not worth it.

"Well?"

He isn't stupid enough to answer that, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. If Mac didn't look ready to deck him, he'd likely be lecturing John about "uncooked joints on the table".

"Jus no gonnae say a fucking hing tae me? Dae a luk like a store dug?"

He groans and ignores the rattling behind his ribs, running a hand over his face as he prays that maybe, just maybe Mac will go easy on him.

"What have you been told?"

He doesn't bother asking "and by who?" because he doesn't want to be annoyed at any of them, and it was likely Kate.

"Ye inhaled a fuck ton ae somehin ye shouldnae 've and a hud to hear about it fae someday else."

He nods, looking at the older man wearily. "That's about it, didn't think you'd need a play-by-play."

Mac lowers his feet off of the edge of the desk and drags his chair closer to the desk with a grating scraping noise that makes john wince.

"Right, lad. Genuine question, are ye a fuckin tit?"

It appears to be just that, a genuine question if the way Mac is arching a brow at him means anything. The Scot doesn't allow him the opportunity to answer before talking again.

"Ye must be, cuz we both ken launchin heed first intae somethin filt wae somehin that mangles ye is some biblical arsehole-ity, John."

John briefly considers slamming his head on the desk. It'd do no good to explain that it was for the mission, Mac would probably just skelp him over the back of the head for implying that wasn't something the retiree already knew.

"You did worse back in the day."

MacMillan only narrows his eyes at him, clenching his hands into fists on his lap.

"Dae ye take me as a gid fuckin example wae these things, son?"

John shakes his head, staring down at the desk in front of him.

"Swear tae fuck, ye pull a stupid stunt like that again and a'll huv yer fucking knees wae a crowbar. Christ, is yer self-preservation that far oot the fuckin windae?"

That has John looking back up at him through narrowed eyes, everyone kept jumping down his throat about it as if they wouldn't have all done the same for the sake of a mission. It was part of the job.

Mac slams his hand down on the edge of the desk, irritation washing over his face in waves.

"Dinnae fuckin luk at me like that, crabbit wee git. A get tae rip intae ye fir stupid shite like this or did ye forget that? The fuckin heart attacks ye put me through fir years and ye huvnae changed a bit? Ye canne be dain that tae every, ye might act like an ignorant arse but ye've got folk aroon here that actually don't like the thought ae attending yer fuckin funeral, ye daft cunt."

Maybe the older man can see the exhaustion that's settled in John's bones, wearing him away from the inside out. Or maybe this is just how MacMillan felt years ago, it might just be an inherited trait that presents itself alongside the captain title.

"Get tae bed, son. We're talkin aboot this the morra. And tea wae lemon fir yer throat, ye sound like ye've been gargling shrapnel."

[danwhobrowses]

Critical Role C3 Ep 118 - Initial Thoughts

Well guys I maaaade it

It's 8am (well 9 now) and frosty in England and I had like, 1 hour light snoozing, I'm currently basking in the delusional energy being sleep deprived sustains until the inevitable crash but for now, an episode happened!

First of 2025, first I could watch in full thanks to PTO and willpower, shivering with nerves all day so let's cover the thoughts I remember at least (was staying as still as possible to avoid making noise for the others sleeping, so couldn't do the clickety clacks - and as you can tell by my use of 'clickety clacks' that my verbage may be as loopy as a rollercoaster at times)

Spoilers for the episode

Adorable abnormally named animals that looked more like a pupper and a gerbil, Bandit was true to his name

Oh geez more fucking monologuing, even Sam had the cup thing for it XD

Remember that fanart of Laudna, Orym and Ashton kicking Liliana after verbally dressing her down? Well that but this time with Ludinus, loved the pressing

Got some mini Ludie backstory and it was 'my family died as collateral in the Calamity', it's so hilariously basic at this point he deserved every bit of Ashton's 'get the fuck over it'

Part of me also couldn't help but think of Istho, the reluctant to die Paladin of the Lawbearer imprisoned at the Bloody Bridge literally a year ago, they had the same mantra

Would've been cooler to get a bit more Lawbearer sauce before in this campaign but fairs enough

Fearne just wants to give everyone cupcakes and candy and treats being the vessel of the God Eater like winning the lottery and I love her for it

It's not lost on me as an Ashton fan that Ludie never asked them what they wanted. There's a gist yes of controlling your own fate but still, got a lil' under your skin didn't they?

Chet no, don't try to open the cascade of sigils!

HA! Poofed out of his second monologue

Braius don't call him, you're gonna call him aren't you?

FUCKING LYING WHORE CHEATER BITCH Azzy, how's the family?

Brennan is untouchable but Matt's Fucking Lying Whore Cheater Bitch Azzy M still gives me the feeling of 'you know all the right things to say but I can still hear your manipulation'

Family, Braius, is right here! I get he's been around longer but first it's 'chase away and I'll remain' now it's 'don't let it out', mixed messages

I probably would've laughed to death if Ludie got distracted by the toy, though I do wish it was an Intuit Charge

RAVENOUS VOID OFF THE FUCKING BAT?? I was literally looking at that spell a few days ago

The aoe and save was so fucking high too, and I could've sworn Ashton can't be moved in Titan form, and resists all but Force Damage

Oh shit the neck! The neck comes back around!

God the cast rolled so badly for so long, and he kept saving and using his resistance

Not the neck ladies, the body, da body!

PATE I LOVE YOU

Pate noooo!

IRAAAAAAA I LOVE YOU!

MISTERRRRRR! I LOVE YOU!!

ASHTOOOOOOOON I LOVE YOU! That is my motherfucking barbarian tank killing the concentration

OH MY FUCKING DAYS POWER WORD STUN IMOGEN I FUCKING LOVE YOU!

I was counting the damage, once you knew it was below 150 all it needed was the math

Bless Ashley for wanting to go big but couldn't because of aoe

It had to be Orym, IT HAD TO BE ORYM, how's that for resolve?

Ira laughing in Ludie's face was cathartic too

'I don't want to hurt anyone, or kill anyone' - SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE ASHTON HATERS IN THE BACK!

We were so fucking close though, so close to the 'we can't absorb it but it can't stay here' point, we could've had an option C like sending it to a Demiplane

Surprised me how much Laudna pushed for pro-Predathos, given Imogen's reluctance, and Orym just unable to argue it because it's been argued to death

Oh god is he not dead? Fuckery duck, Laudna you have that ghost tracking thing right?

'What did you do to me, I used to be fun' - you still are you just have mushrooms planned with Fearne for after

Imogen you talked a lot about being free to decide your fate and now you're literally walking towards what 'fate' planned out for you

We are LITERALLY approaching what Ludinus wants to do

Child's voice is a nope, like an absolute nope

Like a 'Guys did we not learn from the Dominox?' nope

Because GUYS DID WE NOT LEARN FROM THE DOMINOX??

Orym insight checked a God Eater, got a whisper, stepped between it and the Ruidusborns, and that was not a red flag??

The collective 'ohhhh' though

Like, I get hearing it out, trying to see if we've simply been misinformed, but the proof is kinda in the pudding and it is dessert time

It knocked Chet into a wall for opposing, that's a nope

Hey Matt don't you think the Primordials partly responsible for this cage would have some resonance with it since we're getting clips of Tengar and Orym's Wildmother vision for all to see?

Imogen and Fearne NO

Predathos the nice hot faun lady told you to wait

Fearne YES but IMOGEN NO!

Fearne Yes! ...right? Answer the question cliffhanger! RIGHT?

I mean she heard her, that's something, are we gonna have to give Imogen her first death in the campaign? Can that staff factor in at all?

Definitely peeved that Imogen went and pulled a Frodo right at the last moment, but like the One Ring in Mount Doom she is being lulled by Predathos muddying her instincts, so I can kinda see why she thought it the kindest option, also le drama I suppose, Laura Bailey had to put her own third wedding one-shot in jeopardy

I have to be at work next week and there's a likelihood that the worst ending happens and Ludinus didn't get his ancient elf ass handed to him permanently ;_; so the stage is different, the health and spell slots are lower, but the fear is the same and I can't stay up for it

Contrary to others though I do still want a happy ending, the Hells aren't bad or evil for what they were attempting; the intentions was still good it was just not right. Someone else would've come, if not Ludinus then someone else with the same plan, but this is why we should've discussed alternatives earlier, this is why a united goal is important and why the Arch Heart fucking up the plan with his visit rubbed me the wrong way

At least now the Hells are gonna be on the same page with Predathos, it's about saving your people - so, save your people

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Lucifer hoped that his ruse was enough to throw heaven off of his plan to free Adam, it pained him to remove his ring and give it with that letter. He'll get it back.

Him and Charlie were sneaking around heaven, he was surprised by how easy it was to get inside he figured that it would be a lot harder than just opening a portal and walking on in.

The place was crawling with angels, he managed to find an office of some kind, maybe it would tell him where Adam was.

Lucifer: This way, quietly.

Charlie nodded and they ended up in Micheals office. Looking through the drawers, Lucifer found the letter with his ring and slipped it back on, he felt naked without it.

Lucifer: Okay Addie, where are you.....

Charlie was keeping a look out so Lucifer could find a map, it took a bit but he did find one.

Lucifer: Ow! Shit .....

He sucked on his finger, fucking paper cuts. When he looked to see how deep it was he was surprised to see his blood was golden and not deep red like a sinners should be.

Odd.

Maybe being King makes him even more special? Whatever.

Lucifer: Okay I found the dungeon let's go.

Charlie: Okay. I hope Adams not too hurt.

Lucifer: He's tough, but he still feels pain.

They ran down the hall and didn't realize they passed someone. The angel grabbed Lucifer by the horn and threw him into the wall.

Evan: The FUCK are you two doing here!?! You little fucker- ACK!!

Lucifer was stunned when Charlie tackled Evan and they started fighting.

Charlie: GO!!

Lucifer nodded, he didn't want to leave Charlie but Adam needed him. He ran and ran until he found the cell that Adam was kept in. There was a pad lock on the door, Lucifer used his fire to melt it.

The lack of guards was a little alarming.....

When he opened the door the sight that greeted him did multiple things to his insides, rage, jealousy, heartbreak, and sorrow. But overall wrath entered him like never before and he felt so hot.

Michael: CLOSE THE-........ Door....

Lucifer felt like a man possessed, his insides hot like molten lava, he punched Michael so hard he knocked him into the wall denting it severely.

Lucifer: Keep your filthy hands off my fucking husband.

His voice was low and dark, he didn't recognize it.

Adams eyes went wide: L-Lu?

What was he doing here!? Did that mean..... He didn't really end them? Adam felt a small seed of hope blossom in his chest.

Lucifer might be pissed beyond belief, but damn he looked hot as fuck.

Michael: You Motherfucker!!

Lucifer was silent and it was eerie and unnerving as he went over to the corner where Micheals blade was, he noticed the ring too and picked it up to place in his pocket.

Michael: Don't touch that you filth!

Michael got to his feet, Adam closed his eyes he couldn't help and he wouldn't watch Lucifer die again. But when he heard screams he didn't expect them to be Michael's. Adam opened his eyes and his mouth went dry.

Lucifer was beating Michael with his own fucking sword, to the point cracks and loud slaps could be heard.

Michael: AHH! OW! I SHOULD HAVE DESTROYED YOUR FUCKING SOUL WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!!!

Lucifer growled, he took the handle and bashed him in the eye with it.

Lucifer: You take MY husband, try to RAPE and KILL him, torture him to the point of missing a FUCKING ARM!!!

He turned the sword and cut off Michael's left arm, the archangel screamed in pain which made Lucifer laugh cruelly, he stabbed him through his wings so he couldn't fly away.

Lucifer: No one, and I fucking mean NO ONE fucks WITH him or FUCKS him BUT ME!!!

With one last stab, Lucifer drove it through Michael's femur the sound of the bone breaking echoed in the room. Michael passed out from the pain.

Huffing, Lucifer turned around and approached Adam and gripped the collar tightly, he was so angry he was thinking clearly.

Adam: L-Lu, you can't-!

Lucifer still on his wrathful high pulled on the part that was around Adams neck and it shattered as if it was made of glass. Adam was stunned as he felt his power come back to him.

Lucifer threw himself at Adam and held him shaking, his anger cooling and sadness setting in.

Lucifer: I-I-I love you so much Addie.

I miss our God!Adam Au

Sequel 👀

In Canada Eh! Lmao

CANADA FOREVER

Yes plsss! I miss our stupid, power-hungry boy 😫😫

[thebisexualdogdad]

sugar baby Buck smut fic where his sugar daddy gets jealous when one of his friends is hitting on Buck?

Evan Buckley x Male!reader

All of your friends had become very familiar with your boyfriend Buck, you brought him around often to show him off but none of them had the balls to hit on him... well except for Nick.

Nick had clearly been fond of Buck since you introduced them but Buck had always assured you that he was a one man kind of guy so you ignored the way Nick would get a little too close to Buck whenever they spoke.

You hit your breaking point when you invited your friends to a day out on your yacht and overheard Nick tell Buck who was looking devine in his tiny speedo, “come on sweetheart, spend just one night with me. I'll make it worth your while and Y/N will never have to know.”

“What was that Nick?” You say, Nick's whole body tensing up when he turns around to face you.

“Y/N, I uh- didn't see you there, I was just-” he stammers.

“Just what? Trying to screw my boyfriend?” You reply cocking your head.

“No, of course not,” he says.

“You're lucky I don't throw you overboard but when we hit land we are no longer friends you got that?” You tell him bluntly.

He gives you an awkward nod, a few of your other friends chuckling to themselves at him finally being put in his place.

“Apologize to Evan,” you demand.

“I-I'm sorry Evan,” Nick says embarrassed.

You grab Bucks hand, taking him inside the cabin of the yacht and downstairs to your private bedroom.

“That was hot,” Buck says when you shut the door behind him, pressing him roughly against it.

“You're mine and mine only,” you growl, kissing him hard.

“I'm all yours,” he groans into the kiss, his breath hitching when you reach down and grab his ass.

You guide him back to the bed, pushing him to sit down with Buck pulling your hips toward him to kiss and nip at your stomach.

He tugs your swim shorts down, palming the base of your cock and kissing along the soft shaft.

You play with his hair, “my handsome boy, I can't blame Nick, you're just so irresistible,” you say as he starts to stroke you.

“I don't want anyone except you daddy,” he says, feeling you getting hard in his hand.

“I know love, I know,” you say, moaning when he takes you in his mouth.

He massages your balls, your cock now fully hard in his mouth as he slowly bobs his head.

He takes his time, his free hand on your stomach loving how it clenches whenever the tip of your cock hits the back of his throat.

“Evan you always suck my cock so well,” you praise, “but I want to be inside you so lay back for me.”

Buck releases your cock from his lips, saliva dribbling down his chin as he lays back onto the mattress.

His speedo that you bought him specifically for this outing is tearing at the seams from how hard he is, his massive cock standing tall when you pull the material down his legs.

You go to the dresser and grab some lube, squirting it on yourself before putting some on your fingers and raising his hips to circle his hole.

Buck rolls his hips as your fingertips play with him, opening him up enough for you to ease your cock inside him.

“Oh fuck,” Buck whimpers as you push in inch by inch.

He grabs at the sheets as you start thrusting, his legs going over your shoulders for more stability.

His cock swings around while you pound into him, slapping between your stomachs.

“You feel so good inside me,” Buck moans, grabbing and squeezing his own tits for extra stimulation, “fuck my cock is throbbing.”

“Hold on a little while longer for me baby,” you tell him, holding firmly onto his hips as you thrust faster.

Bucks thighs are trembling, soft sighs and whimpers coming from him with every thrust.

“Can I touch myself daddy?” He asks.

“Yes you can Evan thank you for asking,” you reply.

He lets out a sigh of relief and takes his cock in his hand, desperately stroking himself.

Buck soon cries out in pleasure when he feels you cum inside him, unable to hold on any longer shooting cum from his cock and onto his chest.

“God, I love watching you cum,” you tell him, slowing your movements as he rides out his orgasm.

“No one can fuck me like you,” he moans, his body twitching with aftershocks.

Buck locks eyes with you and just smiles, all the money in the world couldn't be better than this, he really was a one man kind of guy.

[blushblushbear]

Do you have any headcanons of the boys meeting their S/O parents? I just think it would be funny to see :)

Nimh: always a parent charmer, parents love him, the safest choice of boy when it comes to getting parental approval

Volks: Not the BEST with parents but it def goes a lot smoother once his mom is there (if we're introducing parents, he wants her to be involved), seeing how much of a good dude he is with his mom and how much he clearly loves you wins parents over

Kelby: another safe choice when it comes to parents. He's always going to be one of the more nervous ones but he eventually nails it

Eli: parents either love him or hate him there is no in between. This also goes for all of his friends-- their parents either LOVE having Eli around or Eli is like that loud neighbor kid that won't leave but is too nice to just--- kick out ya know??

Anon: I feel like Anon has to lean the most on how he'd take care of his s/o and how he's a real sound as a partner financially. He's not got the GREATEST people skills. Like-- he's not offending anyone but he's not always gonna click with them either. Like after he leaves I could see your parents being like 'well, at least he has a steady income...'

Garrett: Parents love him. LOVE HIM. He's just a good romantic choice and is a sweet little bean-- what's there to not love?

Dmitri: ehhhh-- he's a bit on the flirty side so that might not be a great start, but he's very clearly passionate about loving you and is serious about making you happy, and I feel like that would win parents over in the end.

Ichiban: another one that I feel like parents would either love or hate. Like he's got a really big personality, and I could see not all parents jelling with that. Plus some people (especially the older generations) aren't that down with streamers??? So idk, I feel like it's a toss up. Either he'd charm them or annoy them, there'd be no in between.

William: a parent's DREAM. Good job, great personality, very charming and respectful. A parent HOPES their child ends up with someone like him!

Myx: I think at first some parents would not be In Love with the fact that he's a musician, but I DO think once they've met him they're like 'yeah, okay, nevermind, this guy is GREAT'

Stirling: OOF this one's a hard sell. He's like--- wayyyy older than you, AND immortal AND a vampire like------ hmmm. Ya know?? I feel like he'd earn a lot of points being a famous figure skater and all. And no parent hates to hear 'oh, my S/O is financially stable' either so. Yeah idk, I think you're parents would be happy for you but also wondering if you're going through like--- a phase. Also ngl, I think even Stirling is a little confused to why he's here. Like-- what do you MEAN we're not going to elope in the middle of the night and leave our old lives behind us for a whirlwind of romance??? DARLING??????

Scale: they are so open to him until he gets cagey about his job lmao. I think it doesn't go THE BEST but like--- he'll still sneak around to see you, so it's fine.

Sven: another guy whose A LOT. I think in the end he wins them over but they're also still confused about your taste in men

Cole: OOF. This guy. He nails the dinner, he charms the parents, but there's something about him that they just can't shake... They might need to have a talk with you about this later...

Poe: Another boy that has your parents wondering if you're going through a phase but honestly he's polite and well read and has fair manners and seems to be absolutely smitten with you so-- eh, why not.

Cashew: another member of the SUPER NERVOUS TO MEET YOUR PARENTS SQUAD. He's very clumsy and stuttery but ultimately it does go well. They also like that he seems well read, but it's a little odd how he won't tell them what his favorite book is... (cause it's probably smut lol)

Seth: He's awful at meeting parents but FUCK if he's not trying. It goes awkward as fuck, but he does win them over in the end.

Logan: ANOTHER PARENTS DREAM. He's a fire fighter, AND he works charity AND he's good with kids and animals AND he's hot as fuck??? also he'll definitely take care of their child???? done, sold, they'll buy the ring for him

Reece: He's... an odd duck to say the least. He seems fine and harmless enough but he does tend to go on some scatter brained tangents... Well, he seems nice enough and as long as you like him, sweetie...

Aki: Kinda flubs things at first but then makes a big romantic declaration and he can't NOT win them over with that ya know??? Though, what was this about him being a fox????

Haru: He may or may not flirt with both your parents and it may or may not start things off on a weird foot. But he manages to smooth everything over and charm them. Plus it doesn't hurt how they see him dote on your basically the whole night. (also don't tell anyone but this whole time he's FREAKING OUT HE'S SO NERVOUS) also wait-- fox spirit??? and he's HOW old?????

Fuyu: Another of the NERVOUS SQUAD. He's very polite, very well mannered, well spoken. He seems to be cultured and rich and a little bit stuck up but the way he fawns over you wins them over in the end. BUT WHAT'S THIS ABOUT HIM BEING AN ANCIENT IMMORTAL BEING????????????

Ace: THE FINAL MEMBER OF THE NERVOUS SQUAD. Dresses nice, sweats a lot, talks a little too much and a little too fast and a little too loud but he's such a sweet boy, your parents ultimately give their blessing

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiebingo.

Same Time Next Year?

12 Days of Christmas Prompt: Krampus | Word Count: 2400 | Rating: E | CW: Monsterfucking, Spanking | POV: Steve | Tags: Modern AU, Steve "Monsterfucker" Harrington, Krampus Eddie Munson, Size Difference, Immortality, Rimming, Anal Sex

Also here on ao3.

This art by Brom is very much the Krampus that Eddie is based off of. Of course, picture adding the long Krampus tongue and hooves, and now we're cooking.

There's a parade. A night parade. Fuck. He missed that memo, clearly. Tons of people dressed up as Krampuses. Krampii? Steve isn't sure. It makes no difference, the point is, he just didn't realize it was the sixth or he would have avoided downtown entirely. Jogging while weaving through a parade isn't exactly his idea of fun.

There are so many horned creatures walking down Main, some blowing fire, some riling the crowd, trying to elicit screams. Some are there for fun, while others are serious scare actors, giving it their all, making it impossible to maneuver through them.

So, he makes the decision to veer off-course, and takes a detour through the wooded area, where he nearly runs straight into one of the guys in costume that has clearly wandered off the parade route. Probably to take a piss. 

Even trying to get out of their way, he still runs into one of them. Perfect.

"Sorry, man," Steve says, and the guy cocks his head. He's tall. Tall, tall. With long hair, and horns. Broad shoulders that look very sinewy. Purposefully dehydrated, maybe, for the whole look. Like a bodybuilder or action star would do, but not nearly that big and broad. Still, Steve can see every line, every muscle, in his chest and arms. It's all so visible and defined, even out here in the moonlight. Even with his body painted black. 

And won't that be a bitch to get off for him, later.

But Steve really studies him, cloven feet, the expressive, if not slightly terrifying prosthetic mask. A tail that's whipping back and forth like a curious cat. His legs are covered in a dense layer of wavy fur, making him look like he'd feel like a black goldendoodle. 

His inner voice asks: Can I pet that dog?

But, yeah, no. Steve wants to pet him, but would also like to keep his hands, so he resists.

His brain is poking at him that it's not a mask, that this is not a man, but he ignores it.

"Um, your costume. It's really good. You should win," Steve says, not even sure if there are prizes for whatever the townsfolk are doing back there. But if there are trophies. This is the guy. Even if it looks like he's wearing some poor dog's fur swept up from the groomer's floor for pants.

It's very realistic, he'll give him that.

He takes a step towards Steve, and Steve doesn't take a step back. He lets him close the distance.

And his brain has given up on poking, now it's all out screaming that it's no mask. No costume. No man. His eyes are deep brown, and beyond expressive. Captivating. Steve can't look away. Then they flash red for a split second, before sliding back to their dark goldenness.

This thing is real, whatever it is.

And then it hits Steve: It's Krampus. The real Krampus. 

So, he's about to die. Awesome.

It leans down and Steve realizes he has exactly zero survival instincts, because he still doesn't run. Instead he fawns, watching in rapt fascination as its tongue extends out of the creature's mouth, revealing just how thick and long it is before coming to a point.

Steve feels his cock twitch in his shorts, and what the fuck? Seriously? Calm down, dick. Not the time.

Krampus lifts his nose to the air and sniffs. Then he looks down, homing in on Steve's traitorous cock, the very one that's currently hellbent on rising to this occasion. If he lives through the night, he'll be forced to tell Robin she was right when she swore him watching werewolf porn was a gateway drug to monsterfucking.

Now that he's actually met a monster, and one that didn't immediately rip his entrails from his body, well, shit. Color him intrigued. 

If he dies, he's gonna die trying to get laid.

It's the Steve Harrington way.

So, Steve gives in. He reaches out and touches the chest that's covered in that all-over short coat. So short he can still see skin peeking through, see the definition of muscle over bone, but there's enough hair there to feel, definitely.

If Steve squints, it looks almost human. Well, human-ish, human adjacent, whatever.

The tongue snakes out again, this time curling around Steve's neck, and Steve moans, lilting his head to the side. It feels good, warm and wet, and he knows he wants that tongue somewhere else.

Steve's in over his head. He's, fuck, he's never felt anything like this in his whole goddamn life. The long, agile tongue is in him in ways no human man could ever reach. Split wide on the thick girth of it, with the tip flicking against his prostate, over and over.

Fuck. He's gonna come, just like this.

Being eaten out by a demon in the woods. 

What a way to go. Nobody will ever say Steve Harrington isn't up for an adventure.

His waist is wrapped in chains, and they are heavy and warm against his bare back. He doesn't feel tied down, though. They're there, but they aren't attached to anything else, he doesn't think.

The tongue slides out, and he wants to complain. He was so close, his balls have drawn upwards towards his body, and he starts to slide his hand toward his aching, dripping cock.

"No," comes the voice. The first word it has spoken. Steve wasn't even sure it could talk.

And then he feels the first blow. Wood to his ass, a bundle of switches. He keens as he tries to crawl forward, but he doesn't know where he plans to go. Then it changes to a more solid rod. And it hurts, but he doesn't think he's trying to be hurt by this thing. There's a difference, and he can feel it.

It has one hand braced on the small of Steve's back as it strikes him over and over.

He can feel the warmth throbbing in both ass cheeks, after taking the spanking. Then the tongue is back, and Steve sags with relief. He's letting a demon go tongue-deep in his ass, so maybe he has been bad. Very bad, indeed. The rod has branded him, surely reddened his skin, and now he's on his hands and knees in the woods asking for more.

One more flick, and Steve comes untouched all over the dry, dead leaves. 

The tongue slips out once again, and Steve falls forward. It's cold, and the ground is hard, but he's too wrung out to care. 

All he did was go for a run. This was a misunderstanding. 

But he's not so sure he cares about that now.

Steve rolls over onto his back, his spent cock, nestled against his body, in search of heat. He watches the thing as it stands over him. Not sure if he's about to get killed, or fucked. 

Its tongue retracts fully, disappearing into its mouth and well, that's a cool party trick. He supposes it'd never be able to speak if it was hanging out of his mouth all the time.

Krampus is moving a hand towards its beltline, long claws on even longer fingers, pushing away the heavier pelt of fur that covers his crotch. Steve isn't sure what he's got going on down there, but a throb of want goes through him. He needs to find out. He's sloppy and loose from the tongue, and whatever Krampus is working with, Steve's determined to take it.

Even if this is fucked up, even if he's fucked up. He doesn't care. He's into it and as long as he doesn't die, nobody can shame him. 

If he dies, well, he'll be dead and the newspapers can have a field day. 

Once revealed, its cock is as red as its tongue, thick and definitely not human. Not at that size. But not too foreign, either. Just scaled up, and apparently ribbed for Steve's pleasure. 

Don't mind if he does, thanks.

It's looking down at him — asking permission? — and looks almost human.

"Fuck," Steve says, and spreads his thighs wider. Maybe they can do it like this, face to face. Steve will roll back over if that's what's demanded of him, but if he gets to choose? He thinks he wants to see. That feels more thrilling, more dangerous.

Krampus pulls Steve's body towards him, bowing Steve's back, as he nudges the head of his cock at Steve's hole.

And then he's in. 

Steve lets out a whine, a keen, that he hopes nobody in the distance heard. It's bigger than it looked, so fucking big, that it's really edging far closer to pain than pleasure. He needs more lube, to be slicker, he thought he was open, but this is—

Krampus snaps his fingers, and suddenly the next stroke is considerably easier. He's gotten exactly what he was wishing for: he's slick, opened up, and ready.

Holy shit.

Well, that's a neat trick. 

And what was painful, is now just an incredible fullness, and he just enjoys being fucked by this creature. He's pretty sure he can't come again, but he's still enjoying himself. Every thrust, every noise he's making above Steve, it's all so goddamn hot.

Steve reaches up and grasps his shoulder, digging into the muscle, feeling the tuft of hair on his shoulder tickling his palm. He glides his fingers through the hair, it's thick, but soft and he follows it, down the middle of Krampus's back where it comes to a ridge, like a startled cat.

He combs his fingers through it, stroking, and Krampus lets out a noise, a purr, almost, and comes, thrusting deep inside of Steve. It feels insanely warm, and like it's a lot. He's sure he's full, and his spent cock twitches at the thought.

When Krampus finally slides out, his thick, red cock hanging soft between his thighs, he lowers Steve back to the ground. Steve feels hollowed out. In a good way, the best way, but also in kind of a sad way that it's over. He stands up and pulls his underwear and jogging shorts back on, sure he'll be leaking the whole way home.

Krampus is just standing there, watching Steve dress. It's oddly human, and Steve doesn't know what comes next. Does he say thank you? Does he try to kiss him? Does he run for his life just thankful he's survived the best sexual experience of all time?

He doesn't do any of those things. 

Instead Steve asks, "Same time next year?" 

Krampus is towering over him, head cocked in an inquisitive way, but then he nods, and Steve can't wait. 

One Year Later

Steve had almost convinced himself it had been a fever dream. But one year later, with the parade raging once again down mainstreet, Steve has slipped back off into the woods. Krampus is waiting, as promised, and he didn't come empty handed. He presents Steve with an offering: A bloody set of clothes that look suspiciously like an old fashioned Santa suit. 

Steve takes them, "Thank you?"

"You. St. Nick now," Krampus grumbles, and Steve isn't sure if this is a roleplay situation or what.

"For tonight?"

"For forever," Krampus declares. 

Well, Steve doesn't really have anything else going on, he supposes.

"You bring the children," Krampus says.

"And you kill them?" Steve asks, because he's not down with that. He's a good babysitter, not a murderous one.

"I do not kill them," Krampus says, "the good, you gift. The bad, I punish."

"How do you punish them?" Steve asks, because he needs details.

"My rod," Krampus says, pulling it from his side, showing it to Steve.

Steve's offended, and slightly aghast, "You used that on me doing that and now you spank children with it?"

"I washed it first," Krampus tells him, like that's reasonable.

"We'll discuss this later," Steve says. If he's gonna be Santa, he'll be the new sheriff in town. Krampus will have to follow a few new rules, maybe. And maybe that rod will just be for him, for now on.

"Do you agree then?" Krampus asks.

It's impulsive, and insane, but Steve nods.

"I agree," Steve says, and Krampus puts his hand on the top of Steve's head, covering his whole crown, his claws tickling all the places they reach.

And then Steve feels it. A warmth, a glow, like he's never known. Starting at his scalp and zipping down his body until it reaches his toes.

It's magic coursing through him. He's immortal now. He's sure of it. 

He's goddamn Santa Claus.

Krampus lets go and is looking down at Steve.

"You got a name?" Steve asks.

"Krampus."

"Nothing else? No nicknames? Nothing that's, well, more normal that I can call you?"

Krampus is silent for a few more steps. Steve keeps walking beside him. And, well, he'll just have to come up with a nickname himself.

"Krampie?"

"No," Krampus says.

"Puss?"

"Absolutely not."

"Amp—"

"Stop it. Eddie," Krampus offers.

"Eddie," Steve repeats. "I like that."

"I'm so glad," Eddie says, and it's dry, and hilarious. 

Which is good, if he's gonna be stuck with him for the rest of all time. Or, at least until Krampus kills him next year and gives his clothes to some new dude in the woods? Steve's not sure how the whole Santa situation works. Oh well. Steve can't think about that right now.

"Did you just make that name up?" Steve asks.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Steve smiles. It doesn't matter. 

"If I'm Santa Claus—"

"St. Nicholas."

"—do I get a Mrs. Claus?"

Eddie lets out a possessive growl.

"Don't worry, strictly Platonic with a capital P."

There's a few moments of silence, and Krampus must be pondering this proposal. Finally, he sighs.

"If you must," Eddie says, and Steve can't wait. Another customer service job with Robin? The biggest one ever, maybe. One that can last all of eternity while they get to be The Clauses? Sign them up.

"Awesome. You'll love her. So, tell me. What do we do now, Eddie?" Steve asks, readjusting his stocking cap. It has a fluffy little ball on the end and everything, and is only streaked with a little bit of blood. Hopefully that'll wash out.

Eddie just grumbles, and that's okay. Steve can be surprised, it's surely meant to be a magical adventure, after all.

Next Part: Climb You Like a Tree

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[demigod-of-the-agni]

Forgive me, forgive me. I ask, I beg, I pray, but it never comes.

You know I find it incredibly bewildering to see just how much kalki reflects myself in him like YEAH Duh of course he does, he’s my little guy it’s like his full time job. But at the same time he is a fully functional facet of my being and he is at the mercy of my whimsies, and whatever he discovers in his arduous journey of self realisation is ultimately a reflection of what I discover in the real world. It’s also incredibly funny because ffxiv lore for dark knights is really baked into the idea of (re)discovering yourself amongst the bloodshed and continuing to live and love and thrive despite the world working against us. who would have thought such a raw message could come from an mmorpg side quest about edgy emo boys of all places

also adamantite armour of fending i would lay down my LIFE for u

variant + phone bg version + ID below the cut

tch as if you guys are actually going to use artwork of my little guy as your phone background. i know. how dumb. let a girl dream. i should make an alternate version but it's of Fray and Myste

[START ID: A picture with a red background focusing on the character's bust that is placed to the left of the image's centre. He is coloured with a dark blue overlay, contrasting with the red background. He has brown skin, long black hair that falls over his shoulders, and is wearing blue and gold armour and earrings. He is looking at the viewer, right eye dark brown and the left an glowing unnatural red, with an expression that looks determined and angry and yet bitter and forlorn. In the foreground and on the right side of the piece, a miniature version of the character stands coloured in a light blue overlay and wearing the same blue and gold armour, looking as if he is glowing. He is facing towards the left of the piece, or perhaps at the character bust, his expression unreadable. Above the miniature character's head is the symbol representing the FFXIV dark knight, coloured in gold. END ID.]

[bandsandwristbands]

Vent post

[northwest-cryptid]

I literally feel like I'm dying and I need to see a doctor, but I can't worry about that right now because

My bank account is literally in the negatives because I'm too disabled to work and can't make money but I can't worry about that right now because

I'm months overdue on getting my car new tags, but it won't even start if I could drive it so I need to jump the battery and get gas which I don't have money for, but I can't worry about that right now because

People are still expecting me to be social across numerous friend groups and it's pulling me in so many directions that I'm stretched so thin I'm running on no social battery for the last month, but I can't worry about that right now because

I still need to actually clean the house, do the dishes, clean the cat litter boxes, vacuum, and do my laundry... but I can't worry about that right now because

I still need to actually set up my new desk so I can stream since I haven't been able to do that for weeks and streaming is unfortunately my only source of income for how little I make every month, but I can't worry about that right now because

My partner is going through a really hard time right now and I need to be there for her and do what I can to make sure she's okay.

[arcademyth]

something doesn't feel quite right

[nexus-nebulae]

thinking about when i had such intense phantom limbs as a kid i told my math teacher about it

[tackrusso]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw