#Regardless of how many duties responsibilities each of them have

[meridiageek]

Guiscard and Rangiku in the garden

Recently my dear friend (she draws really cool, you can check her twitter) drew me this beautiful art based on a fanfic I once wrote.

I have a pretty big AU. And where Giscard and Rangiku met (although it wasn't under the best of circumstances) and he immediately took a liking to her.This art is from a moment after their recent meeting where they went for a walk in the royal gardens of Lusitania. These gardens were not as impressive and diverse as Parsian, but even there there were beautiful and cozy places to sit, drink wine and talk. Giskard just liked to listen to everything Rangiku said. He often looked at her with admiration, although he tried not to show it. Rangiku understood this but had no malicious intentions and rather just enjoyed his company

[oatlystrawberryicecream]

the way that some people talk about jason and batman and the joker is so jarring to me because it relies on some unspoken assumptions that i will never buy into

1. the assumption that taking a life inevitably always makes the person who did it worse. killing someone isn’t always this earth shattering thing that harms the person who does it and fundamentally changes their outlook on things. i guess if you have never met a veteran or someone who survived an armed robbery or any number of other things you might make that mistake, but like some of the people who fought in wwii came home and were normal members of the community and the times that their bullets hit the mark were not necessarily the parts of the war that kept them up at night. these assumptions that once you kill you are wicked and have to feel bad and do this whole show of repentance are insidious. if you are gonna look at all this through the lens of christian morality you should at least be aware that that is what you are doing but you cant have just one character be wicked and unclean because of his actions when the bible says that everyone is wicked and unclean by our nature and all sins are equal. a lot of people object to that view but if thats how you see it batman and jason and the joker are all sinners and are all as bad as each other so at least be consistant about how you apply that moral framework.

2. the assumption that being robin or being taken in and trained by bruce means full agreement with and acceptance of every part of bruce’s personal philosophy on justice and morality. jason was a homeless child and even if all this was explicitly laid out for him he could not have agreed since he needed bruce as a matter of survival. bruce’s ideology is extremely important to him and he can teach it to his children all he wants but they are not beholden to it above all else the way he thinks they should be. jason has to live according to his own beliefs regardless of how unacceptable bruce finds it and it is unfair and hypocritical of bruce to get bent out of shape about it.

3. the assumption that killing is always bad. maybe i have listened to too many episodes of behind the bastards but some people will do significant and appalling damage to others no matter what unless they are dead. those people can’t be allowed to keep causing harm. it isn’t glorious and there is no honor about it but it is right and just that they be stopped. there is no reason to strive for purity or ideological high ground when you can provide a measure of safety and justice to victims and prevent future harm instead.

4. the assumption that bruce didn’t have to answer to jason. parents have a duty to their children and it is my opinion that that duty does not end when the child dies. bruce adopted jason and made himself responsible and accountable for everything that happened to jason under his care. that responsibility was ignored over many instances. i am not going to detail the things that led to jason’s death here but it was not good or effective parenting. after jason’s death the disrespect starts pretty immediately with bruce compromising evidence of his murder in order to preserve his ability to continue as batman and continues with bruce getting rid of pretty much all traces of jason’s presence in his life. he is only spoken of as a mistake, a lost cause, or a cautionary tale and is assigned blame for his own death, a death that batman never bothered to fully investigate since he was buried next to the woman who led him into the trap. a new kid is endangered and the joker and batman both continue doing whatever they want as if jason’s life only matters for the way it affects them. bruce needs to answer for all of this, as his son jason has a right to expect more from his father. now the extent to which that extends can be debated but it is clear to me that jason deserved better from bruce.

conclusion: killing is accepted in society in certain circumstances, you may or may not agree with this but self defense laws and even things like jury nullification exist because people knew there should be some wiggle room since no one could have the full context of every situation that would ever arise. ending a life is not normal or ideal but it is not an unfathomably rare experience and it does not always weigh on the person who does it. bruce has never to my knowledge killed someone so he has no idea how he would actually respond but that still isn’t even what jason was asking him to do. all he had to do was be present and not move and he would have been the only parental figure who didn’t let jason down.

[writerofjourneys]

The Regent King of Hell

A/N: Just an interesting idea I thought to try. Not sure I want to make this a part of my fandom list as it’s not my cup of tea to write but I wanted to give this a shot regardless.

Fandom(s): Hazbin Hotel

Charlie Magne/Morningstar & (Twin)Fem Reader

Lucifer Magne/Morningstar & (Daughter)Reader

Summary: As the 2nd Princess of Hell, you were given the reigns of ruling over the Ring of Wrath as a King of Sin, then eventually Pride as regent for your parents in their crumbling marriage, soon breakup and your father’s inactive state. You became one of the most, if not above all the most feared ruler out of the Rings of Hell, leaving you to be quite a contrast to your sheltered optimistic older sister, but you loved each other all the same.

Headcanon

Content: Fluff, family, Reader is nicknamed Satan, sister relationship, father-daughter relationship, platonic relationships, demons & angels, morality, afterlife, based on how Satan isn’t introduced yet and the circumstances of Lucifer’s role after physically stepping down from ruling aside from his title as King of Hell.

Warnings: None.

Main List

As children growing up, you and Charlie were always joined at the hip. It was rare for anyone to find one of the Morningstar Twins without the other.

You had very fond memories of your family together, spending moments like any other happy human ones. Having your father display his angelic powers in beautiful imagery to you and your sister’s delight. And your mother singing you songs and lullabies.

Your father would take you on trips to his Lu Lu World theme park. He also wasn’t hesitant to show his bitterness to Loo Loo Land. He forbade you and Charlie to ever go there, and that hasn’t changed even now. But you have been to Hellsney, you heard the human world had something similar to the name.

Ironically, you don’t actually like apples. By themselves they’re okay, but even though it’s your family’s main symbol, you find it tolerable. You hate apple themed food, though.

Though it became apparent that you and Charlie began to take different personalities and views as you got older. Whereas she was optimistic, naive, vibrant, and mild; you were stern, calm, intimidating, and calculating. The denizens of Hell sometimes pondered over the differences between you.

You seemed to take more after your mother and Charlie your father, you still loved them both, but when their relationship began to fall apart you mostly chose to stay by your father’s side. Taking up the duties of learning to govern over Hell more than ever.

But even before that, you took to your responsibilities as an heir more highly compared to your twin, who wasn’t all that interested, instead pursuing a different path.

As you grew up, you even took to taking on a more demonic form, like leaving your curled horns rest on your head, sharp fangs, and having similar wings to Lucifer you inherited that you left out. Though the rest of your features did match with Charlie’s. But you have the ability to shapeshift and change to a number of things, even a more monstrous form.

You displayed more powers in comparison to her, though, having even used them to ‘discipline’ anyone who tried to step out of line, thinking you’d be as dismissive as your sister.

For your capabilities, your parents had given you the opportunity of ruling over the Ring of Wrath, making you a member of one of the Seven Deadly Sins, leading to the demons to then give you the nickname famously known as Satan. Which, funnily enough, had humans and sinners tending to mistake you for your dad, Lucifer.

You found amusement in others speaking your stage name in forms of expression.

You became the embodiment of Wrath for your power and dangerous influence, finally filling the missing spot for the Seven Deadly Sins.

And like your dad, you also detested sinners. You knew many of humanity’s history and their continuous behaviours throughout the centuries. Humans are as cruel as they are loving. They could be even more monstrous than hellborn demons, for all their fragility and short lifespans.

Naturally, you took to them also being something of ants or specks of dust. Though you do get experiences being on earth and getting involved with humans. For being what they are, they did fascinate you for their unpredictability.

You even carried an exception with a level of respect for the intelligent and influential mortals.

When Charlie and Lucifer grew apart at the time of your parents separation, having the misunderstanding of how one didn’t want to see the other, you continued staying close to him. Spending time with him, listening to him talk about his hyper-fixation projects, flying together, and then visiting him among your time ruling over the two rings.

You were pretty much emancipated with your parents’ separation being a Sin.

When Lilith left, stepping down from her royal duties, you and Charlie both didn’t have any contact with her for the past 7 years to now.

You had grown apart from your mom just before that. You weren’t the fondest of her at the moment.

You didn’t know how long Lucifer would remain inactive from ruling the Pride Ring, so you continued acting as regent.

While Charlie had her cat Keekee, and goat-toys-brought-to-life, Razzle and Dazzle, you had your hellhounds, actual terrifying beasts who intelligently understood your orders, but different than the other sentient hellhounds in Hell.

As King of Wrath and now Pride, you were usually busy. Jumping between the two realms and overseeing the majority of Hell in your father’s stead. Sometimes meeting with the other Kings of the Seven Deadly Sins.

Out of all of Hell’s hierarchy, you have the most experience with humans and earth.

Shapeshifting is an ability you inherited from Lucifer. Meaning animals.

You turned into a duckling and a snake for him when you were little. He couldn’t stop fawning how cute you were. He was pretty proud.

Being the embodiment of wrath meant some cause for destruction. You’ve had a hand in a some earthly/hellish disasters.

It also made you the most warlike and combative.

Lucifer had had his worries of how fast you’ve grown. Being mature and doing your own thing ruling a ring of Hell.

Having been sheltered from the lives of humans on earth, Charlie carried the benefit of the doubt for the sinners. Which honestly exasperated you.

You didn’t have any animosity towards your twin, you cared for her, but you wished she carried more of a backbone. Having only the title as the 1st Princess of Hell to go off on and hardly using her powers, the denizens could never take her seriously.

So when she presented her ideas of redemption to you, as family and ruler, you considered it hilariously absurd, though not to her face. You had agreed that while there are sinners who didn’t deserve eternal damnation for their particular situations, not all of them deserved peace.

Humans already had their chances of change and different livelihoods, what was the point of doing it now when they already passed death? They had made their choices and harmed others in the process, to redeem now when their lives were already over felt pointless.

So you were rather indifferent to Extermination Day. You didn’t really know if Lucifer was actually in agreement to it anyways, even for his own distaste in sinners, but your father wouldn’t have had a choice in it regardless. Heaven was the one to force him to be the King of Hell after all, it isn’t a surprise that they could exterminate without his permission. And the Exorcists who were once mortal came down tended to have personal vengeance over the sinners who made their lives hell in the first place.

You weren’t interested in getting involved with Heaven if you could help it.

Seeing how passionate and serious Charlie was, you agreed to support her, regardless of how farfetched her goal looked. But you made to note that while Charlie shouldn’t focus on the inhumane sinners in particular, you advised that her future patrons should at least be remorseful to try and reach Heaven. That was the biggest point of redemption after all.

You did know her girlfriend, Vaggie, the three of you occasionally hanging out for things like lunch. She did tend to be nervous in your presence. All you cared about was her having a good relationship with your sister.

Charlie’s ex, Seviathan and his sister, Helsa, would’ve had their heads torn off of their bodies by you if your twin hadn’t convinced you otherwise. You detested that family.

You rarely did get to see Charlie as she created her ‘Happy Hotel’, but you did drop by to visit when you had time. And upon hearing the Radio Demon’s involvement as her co-owner, changing the name to ‘Hazbin Hotel’, you were obviously suspicious, since you were acquainted and familiar with the Overlords, but since he hadn’t done anything yet and Charlie saying she could take of herself, you left her to it.

While you weren’t sure how these events would fold, you hoped things would work out for your family and getting the time to be together again like you used to be.

So, how was this..?

[bella-rose29]

Domestic Sweetness - part 1

requested by @oblivious-idiot: HI BELLE MY BELOVED you told me to make a formal request so!! can i request a lockwood x fem!reader - domestic sweetness, cooking for each other, lockwood giving reader his jumper, that kind of thing  feel free to go as wild and fluffy as you like hehe

"Love is wont to bring many calamities upon men" is the other thing I based this on and I feel like it's very fitting indeed

I AM SO SORRY IT'S TAKEN ME ACTUAL MONTHS TO DO THIS BUT YOU HAD UPDATES ALONG THE WAY SO I HOPE THAT HELPED

word count: 4.6k

warnings: painfully sweet relationship depicted, lockwood actually gets injured quite a lot (sorry to my boy), swearing, I think that's it? oh wait no there's like one or two slight innuendos whoops

“Can you pass the sugar, Lockwood?”

“Sure, here.” A heavy jar was placed on the counter next to you, and you paused in your stirring to measure out the new ingredient. He was smiling widely at you, a grin that could rival the sun with how bright and happy it was, and you almost felt bad about telling him that he’d brought the salt instead of sugar. His brow furrowed, and he checked the label again. “Damn. Sorry, darling, I could have sworn I picked up the right jar. The sun must have faded the pen; I’ll rewrite it.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before going in search of a marker, turning back momentarily to pass you the actual jar of sugar. 

George, Lucy, and Holly had gone out for the day, taking advantage of one of the last few warm days of autumn before winter started setting in and filled up their schedules with clients. Lockwood and Y/n had stayed in, making the most of the fact they had the house to themselves for a few hours and could make as much mess in the kitchen as possible without being shouted at. Besides, if the others did get mad then there would at least be cake to sweeten them up a little. 

Lockwood let out a small triumphant “Ha!” from across the kitchen, telling you that he’d found a pen. There was a brief pause, the only sounds being those of the spoon in the mixing bowl bringing all the ingredients together, and then the sound of a mason jar being opened. 

“Lockwood?” He hummed in response. 

“What are you doing?” You stopped stirring to look over at your boyfriend just in time to see him eat a spoonful of whatever was in the jar he’d just opened. “Wha… what the actual fuck?” He grimaced, pulling a face and sticking his tongue out repeatedly as though it would get rid of the taste. 

“…I had to check it was definitely salt.” He looked sheepish, a faint tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as you stood with your hands on your hips and raised your eyebrows at him. 

“Of course it’s salt, dipshit. I’ve got the sugar!”

“I didn’t want to get it wrong!”

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to see what a spoonful of salt tasted like?” He didn’t say anything, instead starting to write ‘salt’ on the label with far too much concentration. You sighed, turning back to the bowl. “Idiot,” you muttered, but there was a smile on your face regardless. 

~~~

Lockwood could still taste the salt. 

He’d washed his mouth out with roughly four cups of tea and six pints of water, but the tang of the teaspoon of salt he’d eaten earlier was still there. He couldn’t even complain about it either, because Y/n just laughed at him and said he had to live with the consequences of his actions. 

At least he now knew what a spoonful of salt tasted like. 

He heard you struggle a little from his place at the sink (he’d been put on washing up duty), and looked to his left to see you attempting to reach something on the top shelf. Drying his hands on the tea towel he slung it over his shoulder and stepped over, coming up behind to help. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his front, while the other reached up and took the second mixing bowl out of the cupboard. “Here you are, darling,” he whispered, deliberately lowering his voice and speaking directly into your ear, tightening his hold around your waist for a brief moment and delighting in both the involuntary shiver and small sound that left your mouth. He kissed your temple and let go, placing the mixing bowl on the counter and moving away to finish washing up. 

“You,” his girlfriend started, clutching the sideboard, “are evil, Anthony Lockwood. Pure evil.”

He just laughed in reply, and yelped when you dipped your hand in the sink and threw soapy water in his face. 

~~~

The cake had been sat on the side for a while now, sponges cooling down so that the icing that the two of you were currently making wouldn’t melt and slide right off. 

“That’s way too much icing, isn’t it?”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll eat any leftovers.”

“Lockwood, you can’t just put everything in your mouth.”

“Icing won’t kill me, Y/n.”

You sighed, fighting back the smile that threatened to break through. “Still. You’ll probably be sick if you eat that much.” Lockwood didn’t bother hiding his grin, dipping a finger into the bowl to scoop some icing up. He laughed when you smacked his chest, smile never disappearing even when he nearly fell backwards off his chair. “Does it taste alright?”

“Yep. Tastes perfect. I could totally eat that whole bowl and not get sick.”

“Well,” you replied, standing up from the kitchen table and heading for the sponges. “You’re not going to find out if you can. The cake’s cool enough now. Here, take the spatula. You can lick it when we’re done. When we’re done, Anthony. Not now.” Lockwood pouted with the implement halfway to his mouth, sticking his bottom lip out so far it looked ridiculous, and you snorted and gave him a peck on the cheek. “C’mon, the cake won’t ice itself.”

A short while later the majority of the icing had been used, spread as neatly as possible over the cake that had now been assembled. “It looks pretty good!” Lockwood said, standing back to admire it. 

“I just hope it tastes as good.”

“Of course it will. You always doubt yourself and then make the most incredible things I’ve ever eaten, so I don’t know why you’re always so unsure.” He’d said it so casually, inspecting the spatula in his hand and leaning back against the counter, and he was talking about cake, but it meant a lot. He wasn’t wrong, and the fact that he’d said that as nonchalantly as he had made your heart clench in your chest. Looking at Lockwood now, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window and casting him in a soft golden glow, you found yourself wondering how the hell you’d managed to end up with someone as wonderful as him. 

Then he practically deep-throated the spatula, and the illusion of Anthony Lockwood as some magnificent and incredible person was partially shattered. 

“Anthony, what the-” you cut yourself off, staring in shock at your boyfriend as he took the nearly-clean spatula out his mouth and stared back, the picture of innocence. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be mad, not when he was looking at you with those wide brown eyes and titling his head a little in a silent question. “Never mind.”

“What is it?” 

“You- you just shoved the whole thing in your mouth!”

“Yeah, and?” He didn’t seem concerned about the fact he could have choked, instead resorting to licking the spatula like an ice cream to get the last of the icing off. For a moment, memories of his tongue doing a similar thing but in a very different context flooded your brain, not helped at all by the soft moan he let out at the taste of the icing. 

“Just, uh… you could have- you…” He had that innocent look on his face again, and it was difficult to remember what you’d been saying. “Don’t worry about it,” you muttered, gaze fixed on the spatula. Lockwood noticed, of course, and immediately a smug look took over his features. He exaggerated his movements, and the spell was broken. It definitely helped take your mind off of… other things, especially when he accidentally smacked himself in the face with the spatula. 

“Ouch,” he said, rubbing his cheek and frowning at the implement. 

“It’s your fault, you know. I have no sympathy for you.”

“Rude.” There was no malice in his response, and the glare he gave you was teasing. 

“What are we gonna do with the rest of the icing? There’s too much to put on the cake, but not enough to put on something else. It would be a shame to waste it.”

“Eat it?”

“You want to eat everything, Anthony.” He walked over to the sink, dropping the spatula in the water and cleaning it before moving to the kitchen table where the bowl of icing sat. “What are you doing now?”

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you closer with his left hand. His right was dipping into the icing bowl again, but before you could chastise him for it he was gently taking hold of your waist and pulling you in to his side, lifting his right hand to your mouth. “Open up.”

“Wha- just eat it off your hand? When did you last wash them?”

“You literally watched me wash them about a minute ago, I’m not sure why you’re concerned about that. We’ve got to eat the icing up, so if you won’t eat it then I will.”

“Fine. Go on then,” you said, sighing and opening your mouth. He paused for a moment, hand a few inches away from your face, and for a split-second you thought you saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. You should have realised that he would take advantage of the situation when his grip on your waist tightened, pinning you to his side so that he could wipe the icing on your cheek instead. A disbelieving scoff left your mouth, eyes widening as you took in the grin he was giving you. “Really? I thought you wanted to eat it?” 

He shrugged. “I can lick it off afterwards.” Under the icing your cheeks burned. Recovering quickly you reached into the bowl yourself, grabbing the back of his top to stop him lurching away when he realised that he was under attack.

“Not a fucking chance you’re getting away with this,” you muttered, spreading the icing over his chin (he’d jerked his head back at the last second, and given the awkward angle it was the only part of his face you could reach). Now it was his turn to huff in incredulity, and there was a brief pause where the two of you stood - still grasping each other to prevent any escapes - and looked at each other. 

Then something clicked, and at the same time you both made a mad scrabble for the icing bowl, hands dipping in to collect ammunition before attempting to smear the topping all over each other. 

When Lucy, George, and Holly came home roughly half an hour later desperate for a cup of tea and a quiet evening in, they found you and Lockwood lying on the kitchen floor, icing spread around most of the room and baking trays used as what looked like makeshift shields, wide smiles on both of your faces. 

George nearly had an aneurysm at the state of the kitchen, but after he made the pair of you swear to clean it before you went to bed and left the room in a huff he couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face. 

~~~

“Did we run out of teabags again?” Lucy called from the kitchen. It was incredible how far her voice could carry, really, since you and Lockwood were in his room a floor up with the door closed and music playing, and yet could still hear her. George yelled back something about how he’d meant to go the other day but forgot, and he couldn’t right now because he was doing yoga. Holly had already gone home, and when Lucy appeared at Lockwood’s bedroom door a few minutes later you sighed. 

“Why do we have to go? We just got comfy in bed,” Lockwood said, even though he was the only one currently under the covers and was still in his day clothes. You had been changing the music over, having grown bored of the previous record. 

“Because I need to wash my hair? And George is probably butt-naked so he can’t go. You two are already dressed anyway, so why does it matter?”

“She’s got a point, Lockwood,” you started. “It’ll be fun! Besides, we’ll have some time for just the two of us, and-” You didn’t even get to finish before he was launching himself out of bed, grabbing your wrist, and hurling the both of you down the stairs, already reaching for his coat and shoes. 

“See you later!” Lucy called, heading up to the attic. “Oh, and we need bread too!”

“Got it!” you yelled back, stifling your laughter at how frantically Lockwood was moving. “Why’re you going so fast? No, slow- slow down!” He had pulled your own coat off the rack and started putting your arms through the sleeves, and was now wrapping his yellow and brown patchwork scarf around his neck. 

“What? Am I not allowed to want to spend time with you? Alone?” He waggled his eyebrows around at the last word, leaning in close and aiming for a kiss, lips pursed comically as he shut his eyes. You pushed his face away, snorting at his theatrics, and put your own scarf around your neck before heading for the front door. Stuffing a bag in his coat pocket (you would never understand how he could fit so many things in them, they were stupidly deep) he followed after you, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were walking down the road hand in hand (or rather, hand in arm; your palms always got uncomfortably sweaty whenever you held hands for too long, and Lockwood had long since learned that letting you nestle your hand in the crook of his elbow was much better for both of you). 

“Teabags and bread, right?” you asked, double checking with Lockwood that you hadn’t got it wrong in the five minutes since you’d left the house. Lockwood hummed in response, a soft smile decorating his face. He turned his head to look down at you, and while his smile was still small you could see the happiness in his eyes. It was strange: before meeting him you hadn’t ever thought that someone could look at you like that, but here was Anthony Lockwood, gazing at you like there was nothing else in the world - in the universe - that mattered more than you. 

Maybe he should have considered that other things did matter, because barely two seconds later he walked face first into a lamppost. 

You desperately wanted to comfort him and check that he was alright but instead laughter burst its way up and out, making you double over and wheeze. 

“It’s not funny!” he exclaimed, clutching his nose, but there was a badly concealed grin under his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” you managed to get out, except you were still laughing and probably looked everything but sorry. “You just- you just walked straight into it!”

“Funnily enough,” he started, wincing as he prodded his nose with his index finger, “I was aware of the fact I walked into a lamppost. Not sure what it was that made me aware of it; maybe the way my entire face hurts has something to do with it?” Your laughter had died down now, one or two small giggles still breaking through, and you moved closer to inspect his face yourself. Knocking his hands away, you brought your own up, feeling along the skin to check for… well you weren’t really sure what you were checking for, but his nose didn’t seem broken, and he didn’t have any cuts or bleeding. He might end up with a bruise or two, but he’d wear them just as proudly as the slight blue tinge on his hand from years ago or the very large eye bags he couldn’t seem to get rid of. 

“Sorry,” you said again, meaning it a little more this time. You paused for a moment, a slightly guilty look appearing on your face. “I really wish I had had my camera with me to catch that though, is that bad?” He stared at you in open-mouthed shock, but the amusement glistening in his eyes told you it was just pretend. 

“How… dare you!” He lunged, arms outstretched in an attempt to catch you, but you spun away just in time, laughing loudly and jogging away down the pavement. Lockwood rushed after you, and his long spindly legs made the distance you had created seem like nothing. He wrapped his arms around your midriff from behind, pulling you back against him and lifting you up in the air all in one go. He spun the both of you around, unable to stop his own laughter as you kicked and squeezed your eyes tightly shut, and after what felt like far too long (but in reality was probably no more than five seconds) he put you down again, twisting you around by his grip on your waist so that you were facing each other. “So rude,” he muttered, grinning while he leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “So rude.” Lockwood pulled back, releasing your waist and moving to the outside of the pavement while dramatically doing a little bow and offering up his arm. 

“Are you sure your face is alright?”

“I’m sure. A bit sore, but I’ve had worse. A cup of tea when we get back will help, I think.” He was still bent a little in the middle so you took his arm and let him stand up straight and lead you down the road again. 

~~~

“Is that all we needed?” you asked, walking back over to where Lockwood stood with the shopping basket. “It doesn’t seem like a lot given we came to the big shop.” Lockwood looked a little sheepish for barely a second, quickly schooling his expression back into one that looked more like ‘I’m so happy to be out with my girlfriend’, but you caught it regardless. Narrowing your eyes, you spoke again. “We didn’t need to come here, did we.” It wasn’t a question, and Lockwood shrunk back a little. “We could have gone to Arif’s; you saying he was shut was a lie!”

“Sorry,” he grinned. “I just wanted to spend more time with you, is all.” How could you stay mad at him when he was looking at you like that? Those brown eyes would be the death of you, you were sure of it. 

“Fine,” you replied, drawing out the word. “But we’re buying biscuits.”

“Happy to, since it means we get longer together before you have to go home.” The pair of you started walking again, heading for the biscuit isle, when Lockwood stopped abruptly in the middle of the store. “Did you need anything? You know…” he waved the hand that wasn’t holding the basket in the vague direction of your body. “I seem to remember you saying you were running out of something? Pads, maybe? Or was it the liner thingies? Oh! And painkillers, we need more of those. George used the last for a headache he had the other week and I forgot to restock.”

“How… you remember me saying that?” He started dragging you away from the biscuit isle and instead towards the toiletries isle, seemingly nonplussed about the fact he’d remembered one off-hand comment you had made ages ago. 

“Of course I do. I keep a little list in a notebook so I don’t forget anything. Ah, here we are.” He stopped walking to frown at the display of products before the two of you. “Actually… I have no idea what I’m looking at right now.”

“That’s alright,” you responded, reaching out for the things you needed. “I would have completely forgotten if you hadn’t reminded me, and that would have been a disaster.” As soon as you were done, basket just that little bit heavier, you both turned and left for the biscuits for the second time. 

“You pick,” Lockwood said as you neared. “I picked the biscuits last time and the others aren’t here, so tough luck for them.”

Despite you all calling it the Big Shop it was only a small amount larger than Arif’s, and as such the aisles weren’t all that much taller - you could often find Lockwood’s head floating above the shelves which made it easy to not get lost - but it did mean that if anybody was below the height of the aisles, they were practically invisible. Unfortunately someone had been just around the corner of the biscuit aisle, hidden behind a board advertising a brand, and you didn’t have time to correct your course. 

“Oof! Watch it!” 

At first you thought you’d bumped into a small child, possibly around six or seven years in age but just above the average height, and that he was in need of a personality check for the attitude he’d just given you. Then when you blinked and the child stood up after being sent flying across the floor, you realised that you were in fact looking at Bobby Vernon instead. 

“Sorry, Bobby,” Lockwood said, trying not to smile while the other agent brushed himself off. “Didn’t see you behind the display.”

“Lockwood, that display is the size of a large rat at most,” Bobby scowled, inspecting a non-existent rip in his Fittes uniform. You had only met Bobby Vernon once before (a few months ago, and he hadn’t said a word), and you were surprised that he apparently hadn’t gone through puberty yet. There was the odd crack in his words when he spoke, but otherwise his voice sounded like what could only be described as a mouse’s feet gently pattering over a tin roof, or perhaps something akin to a child talking to you in high tones very far away. 

“I’m aware of that,” replied Lockwood, having given up on hiding his grin by now. “What are you doing here?”

“I was getting supplies for a case that we have tonight. Not sure if you remember what those are, Lockwood, but we’re fully booked for the foreseeable future.” He puffed his chest out, giving the impression of a fairy trying to make itself look bigger than it was, or a small pufferfish going up against a whale. His tone had gone all smug and holier-than-thou, and you didn’t much like it. 

“Actually,” Lockwood started, with a look that told you he was about to start lying, “we’re doing quite well ourselves.” There it was. You’d spoken to Holly earlier that day, and the biggest job that Lockwood and Co had for the next week or so was hanging up lavender in a hotel a couple of streets away. Bobby raised an eyebrow (or tried to; it looked a lot more like he’d been told that someone had just adopted a pair of gerbils for him and named them Harold and Nancy or something ridiculous like that) and scoffed. Lockwood didn’t falter though, his smile staying plastered on his face and his posture confident (seriously, the boy had to have had dancing lessons with a back that straight), and after a few moments Bobby gave up scrutinising him. 

“Well I’d best be getting on,” the Fittes agent said, straightening his jacket and sniffing. “Busy life and all that. I hope you fall in a river, Lockwood. Or set another building on fire so that they can finally take you out of the game.” You huffed an incredulous laugh, not believing how someone who looked so small and mouse-like could say something like that. Before either you or Lockwood could respond Bobby Vernon had walked off, his rapier dragging against the floor a little and nearly tripping him with how long it was compared to his body. 

“He was nice,” you mused, turning to grab some biscuits. Jammy dodgers were the first to go in the basket, since George always ate the lot of them and rarely bothered with any others. 

“Bobby’s always a joy to be around,” Lockwood replied, reaching his hand out for yours. You shook your head and put a packet of bourbons in the basket instead, already going for some chocolate covered hobnobs and digestives. Lockwood had started grabbing at yours, so you cast one last look at the basket and the shelves before indulging him. “Is that everything do you think?” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, keeping his lips there while he waited for you to respond. 

“Yeah, I think so. We can always pop out again tomorrow if we missed anything.”

Just under ten minutes later the pair of you were out of the shop, Lockwood carrying the bags in one arm and your hand resting in the crook of his other. It was darker now than when you’d left the house, the evening properly drawing in and clouds darkening the sky, but with Lockwood by your side the world could never be anything but bright. The wind picked up, ruffling his hair (that somehow managed to still look great while you looked like you’d been dragged backwards through a hedge) and threatening to pull his scarf away. You reached out to grab it before the end could break free, effectively making the both of you grind to a halt. “Thanks,” he grinned, probably completely unaware of how he made you feel. A sudden urge to kiss him like those scenes in the movies overtook you, and you took your other hand out of the crook of his elbow to grab a hold of the other end of his scarf. Tugging harshly on the fabric, you yanked Lockwood down to press your lips to his, closing your eyes right before contact. 

Contact never came. 

Not for you, anyway. Lockwood did make contact, but with the floor instead of your lips, and there was a painful sounding thud when he landed. “Oops…” you murmured, hands now held up by your face instead of holding Lockwood’s scarf. 

There was a moment of silence where Lockwood was just lying on the pavement, face down while splayed out like one of those white chalk body outlines in crime reports, and then you couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore. 

It bubbled up, and at the small groan that escaped your boyfriend you tried to stop, pressing your hand over your mouth in an attempt to prevent any more laughter. You were unsuccessful, instead laughing even harder when he lifted his head to show the red print of concrete on his cheek and scowled up at you. Luckily the shopping had stayed in the bags, so when Lockwood pushed himself up off the floor and brushed the stray bits of pavement off of him, all he had to do was pick up the bag. He gently touched a couple of fingers of his free hand to his nose, testing for any injuries, then nodded when he felt satisfied that there wasn’t anything too worrying. He caught you hiding your grin and gave you one of his own before opening his mouth. 

“Kiss my nose better?” 

You snorted, stepping closer to Lockwood but not yet obliging. You checked for any damage to his nose yourself, not trusting him to have done a good enough job. “What makes you think I will?”

“Well I think I deserve some sort of compensation for my injuries,” he replied, using his spare hand to pull you into his chest by your waist. 

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm,” he said, voice growing quieter as he leaned in. His nose brushed against yours, warm breath on your face a pleasant contrast to the chill in the air. The wind was still pulling at your hair and clothes, rustling the plastic shopping bags in Lockwood’s hand and making your cheeks sting at the cold. 

“Alright then, if that’s what the doctor ordered.”

“It is,” Lockwood muttered, but the end of his sentence was lost in your lips. 

tag list:

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlitcanvas, @cielooci, @35-portlandxrow, @laumire, @isimpfor-everyone, @furblrwurblr

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, and of COURSE @oblivious-idiot for the request

as always, if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here!

[dracopias-bloodbag]

Bewitched By Bloodlust | Dracopia x F! Reader

Chapter I: You'd Never Want Me To Appear

As a witch you have a duty to protect your coven, the very sisterhood that raised you. When the High Priestess tells you of a prophecy that sees the downfall of the coven as you know it approaching, you're willing to do whatever it takes to stop it. You're surprised to find out that her visions show the leader of the local Satanic Ministry at the center of it all. You're more surprised to learn that he's a vampire; and you can't help but be disgusted at the thought of a creature like him being blindly worshipped by so many innocent people. The task of slaying said vampire is bestowed upon you, and you're more than happy to take on the challenge. You've waited your whole life for an opportunity like this– for a chance to prove yourself to your coven. But what happens when that opportunity is ripped from your grasp along with your freedom, and is replaced instead by mismatched eyes you just can't get out of your head?

chapter content: 3.6k words. 18+ only, enemies to lovers, slow(ish) burn, dark romance but not anything crazy, eventual smut, slight dubcon, blood, blood drinking (duh), kidnapping, canon divergent (ghost is not a band, but the ministry still runs and operates as a functioning church), time period is undisclosed romantic era, leaning towards the victorian era

Recommended Listening:

Witch Image — Ghost

Masterlist ☽𖤐☾ Read on Ao3

The frigid night air seems to wrap itself around you, making your lungs burn as your breaths come in short, shallow bursts. If it wasn’t so cold you might even feel like you’re being suffocated as you try desperately to quiet your mind. The moonlight is the only thing illuminating your path aside from the oil lantern clutched in your shaking palm. Your other hand remains wrapped around the leather reins of your horse, gripping them tighter than usual. Clicking your tongue and tapping your heels against his sides, you gently urge the animal forward through the foggy woods. He nickers softly in response as his ears swivel back and forth, and you just know he senses your unease.

“It’s okay, we’re okay… you can do this.” You’re not entirely sure if you’re reassuring yourself or your horse, but regardless you press on trying to ignore the pit in your stomach that only seemed to grow with each passing moment.

Keep going, keep moving. You can do this… you can do this.

The words repeat in your head over and over again, but whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, the truth is you don’t know if you can do this. Your coven spent so long training you, ensuring you were ready and making sure you understood just how important your mission was. The prophecy had scared them, it scared you; and the reward they offered you if you succeeded was too great to pass up. Yet a part of you still feels ill-prepared, like maybe you are the wrong person to carry out this task– like maybe they had made a mistake.

You lift your lantern, holding it out in front of you as you try to peer through the trees, but the fog is too dense for you to see much of anything. You take a shuddering breath before glancing down at your compass.

“Travel five miles due north on horseback. Then when you’re close enough, go in on foot. Sneak into the abbey, find his quarters, then take this silver dagger and end him.”

The anxiety in your stomach threatens to boil over at the memory of the High Priestess’ words. The instructions were straightforward, almost too straightforward, as if it would be an easy task. Yet something in your gut tells you it won’t be, and at that thought your fingers find the dagger on your belt, as if trying to reassure yourself. Slowly they trail upwards to the matching silver pentacle pendant that hangs from your neck.

“This talisman will protect you. The pure silver will burn him if he touches it. So long as it is around your neck, he will not be able to bite you. You will make it out alive.”

You damn near tug the pendant off as you jump at the sound of a tree branch snapping behind you. 

You whip your head around and thrust the lantern forward as you look around wide-eyed, before your eyes land on the culprit. A barn owl chirps before swooping down to a nearby bush, talons outstretched, no doubt chasing a rat of some kind. You breathe a sigh of relief as you place a hand on your chest, feeling your heartbeat thundering wildly under your ribcage.

No vampires, just owls. No ghouls. Just rats.

You continue making your way through the forest, the chill of the night air turns your cheeks rosy and makes your eyes water. You eventually stop your horse at a stream, allowing him to take a drink while you pull out your map and trace your finger over the weathered paper as you try to figure out where you are.

Your eyes flicker between your compass and the map, and you whip your head up, looking around as you realize that you’re less than a mile from the abbey.

Less than a mile and still no ghouls? 

You had expected to run into at least one patrolling the area. But the forest is still and quiet aside from the usual sounds of the night. There were no signs of life aside from the chirping crickets in the bushes and the owls in the trees.

“C’mon boy,” You pat your horse’s neck, your fingers gently stroking over his black coat to encourage him. “Let’s get this over with.”

You guide him across the stream, through thick brush, under the looming trees, and it's not even five minutes later when you spot the steeple of the abbey in the distance. Taking a shuddering breath you try to harden your resolve.

That’s when you hear it… a low growl coming from the treeline to your right. Your horse reacts almost instantly, anxiously shifting and tossing his head. You pull back on the reins, trying to get him to stop.

Chill out, chill out, chill the fuck out, you’ll only make it worse. You tell yourself.

You shove your lantern forward again, your eyes narrowed as you attempt to glare through the thick brush.

“Who’s there?” Fuck, you meant it to sound confident– but your voice cracks– a dead giveaway to how you truly feel. Petrified– like a child that’s terrified of the imaginary monster in their closet.

Only as you hear a snap from your other side, the devastating realization that this is no figment of your imagination washes over you. You whirl around and peer through the darkness, and then you see it.

One of his ghouls is staring straight at you, looking as if it’s ready to pounce.

“Oh fuck.” You curse, your instincts kicking in, sending your horse flying forward. You race through the forest, your heart pounding as you tuck your body close to his back as you try to avoid getting whipped in the face by tree branches. He soars over a fallen log, and whips around a tree trunk, before you spot the break in the trees.

The worn leather of the reins digs into your palm as you pull on them, turning your horse as you aim for the opening, but just as you think you’re home free– you see him.

And may the Goddess help you he truly is a sight to behold. Your breath hitches in your throat, both out of paralyzing fear and pure fucking awe. Gritting your teeth, everything seems to move in slow motion as he emerges from the trees on his own steed. If it wasn’t for your current circumstances, you might have time to laugh at the irony of the stark contrast of his pale white horse to the obsidian colored one you were mounted on– mirroring his darkness disguised as light, while your own righteous duty could be perceived as dark and taboo.

His face is painted with the signature skull paint you had heard tales of, his mismatched eyes boring into yours. One a bright crimson red while the other is such a bright white you could almost swear it glows. His hair is slicked back and you can’t help but notice the way it’s graying at his temples. A few strands fall in his face, giving him a disheveled look that makes your stomach flip. His black cloak billows behind him in the night air as he emerges from the darkness.

Your horse reacts then, skidding to a halt and nearly sending you flying. You manage to regain your balance, gripping his wavy mane to stop yourself from sliding off his back. The next thing you know you’re throwing your lantern down between you purely on instinct– it's the only thing you can think of to buy you time.

The glass shatters, oil and flame escaping their confines as the brush erupts in flames. Both his and your horse rear up, whinnying and kicking the ignited air with their front legs as your eyes meet his through the wall of fire separating you. The look in his eyes is one of shock, awe but most of all, rage; and you feel a chill run down your spine as you turn your stallion in the opposite direction. Your mission is long forgotten by now, and the only thing on your mind is getting the fuck out of there as fast as you can. You race through the trees you had passed before, your heart beating out of your chest.

Behind you, he dismounts from his horse before handing the reins off to one of the ghouls. He stalks around the flames, slowly, calculated. It’s as if he does not have a care in the world. Why would he? He knows that by the end of the night, you’ll be his. Even if he isn’t the one to do it, he knows his ghouls will catch you and bring you back to him; and he will take your life as easily as he has taken so many others. Even through all the chaos, through all the commotion of your scramble for escape, the only thing he can focus on is the sound of your racing heart beating against your ribcage like a terrified, caged bird.

A small smile tugs at his painted lips as his mouth waters at the sound.

Your horse leaps over the same log from earlier, whipping between the trees as you cling to his mane. You spare a glance back but everything is a blur as the sound of his hooves thunder in your ear in time with your frantic heartbeat.

A ghoul leaps out from the trees in front of you when you least expect it, and your horse rears up impossibly high. This time you’re less prepared, and you lose your balance and hit the ground with a sickening thud before the animal turns and bolts into the surrounding forest.

You cough and sputter from your place on the forest floor, the impact had knocked the wind out of you and you were struggling to suck in lungfuls of air. You claw desperately at the leaves and dirt under you as you try to pull yourself up.

You stumble to your feet as the ghoul stalks towards you, claws extended as he reaches for you.

All of your training comes rushing back to you then, and in one swift movement you catch his hand with yours. He cocks his head, surprised at your strength as you grunt with the effort and throw all your body weight against him, shoving him backward. You turn quickly as he struggles to regain his balance and kick your leg out, effectively knocking his legs out from under him. That gives you just enough time to slip away as you take off running on foot.

Shit, shit, fuck– shit!

Your boot gets caught on a tree root, causing you to stumble. You’re quick to catch yourself, your nails digging into the bark of a nearby tree as you grasp onto it for support. You gather your long skirt in your hands, trying desperately not to fall on your face.

A clawed hand digs into your arm, pulling you out of your thoughts and you yelp as this new ghoul shoves you against a tree.

The ghoul studies you carefully as his eyes flick over you, he snarls, sharp fangs revealing themselves as you wriggle under his grasp. Somehow you manage to wrench your hand out of his and grab your dagger from its place on your belt before swinging at him.

The blade leaves a thin but effective scratch across his face, and he snarls again even as he stumbles back long enough for you to make your escape. Another ghoul runs at you; but you sidestep at the last second, causing it to run headfirst into a tree.

Your breaths are ragged as you press on, running further through the trees. Whether you’re heading towards the abbey or away from it, you don’t know anymore. In your head you vaguely remember spotting your compass amongst the leafy foliage when you fell, and you mentally curse yourself for ever dropping it. You eventually shove through some thick brush and stumble into a clearing, and the sight before you makes you freeze instantly.

He is standing there as if he’s been waiting his whole life for you. He doesn’t look the least bit worried as you step into the clearing, even as the moonlight bouncing off the silver dagger in your hand catches his attention.

“You know why I’m here.” It’s a statement, rather than a question. Good, your voice was surprisingly steadier now, even though your legs felt like they might give out at any moment. 

But your heart tells another story, still trying to beat out of your chest. The sound is the only thing he can focus on, and he has to bite back a chuckle as he counts a hundred and forty-eight beats in a single minute. He can picture your veins shirking in your extremities, as your body prioritizes getting blood flowing to your most vital organs. He wonders how it will taste flowing over his lips once he finally takes that first bite, and it makes him practically growl in anticipation.

Soon. He tells himself.

“Of course, you eh… want to put that,” He waves his hand dramatically, gesturing towards your blade, before pointing at his chest. “Here.”

The way the moonlight makes his fangs gleam as he speaks makes your stomach do a somersault. You can’t help but notice how his thick accent somehow makes his words sound sweeter than they are.

“I was sent here to kill you.” You snap. 

He’s unfazed at your outburst, his white eye practically glowing in the moonlight as he studies you.

“The elders of my coven have seen an ancient prophecy, one that sees you at the center of our coven’s demise.” Your fingers feel for the silver pentacle hanging from your neck. “I am not going to let that come to fruition.”

He laughs darkly, watching you as he slowly steps forward. “And why do you think I care what a bunch of old hags think, eh? Are you vain enough to believe I care enough about what you’re doing out there to go out of my way to hunt down some lowly coven.”

You grit your teeth. “I don’t know why you’re at the center of the prophecy, but I don’t care. I won’t let you get the chance to hurt us. ”

He chuckles at that. “Well, they made a very stupid mistake sending someone like you out here. A scared little ragazza, who can barely put one foot in front of the other. If I knew any better, I’d think they wanted to get rid of you, strega.”

“You don’t know anything about them.” Your voice drips with venom as you take another step towards him.

He laughs dryly, glaring at you through narrowed eyes, and in the moonlight, you can see where the tales the elders had told you came from– why people are so fucking scared of him. The dramatic face paint contrasts those dangerous eyes of his, making them stand out against the painted black eye sockets. The lines on his cheeks accentuate his cheekbones and bring attention to the aged smile lines around his mouth. For a brief moment you wonder what this wretched creature could possibly have to smile about that would’ve caused those to form overtime.

“Then do it. Kill me.” His voice pulls you from your thoughts as he slowly puts his hands up, as if in surrender.

You hesitate, everything in you is screaming that it’s a trap, but as you weigh your options your eyes land on the surrounding treeline. Spotting eight pairs of glowing eyes; you realize his ghouls have you surrounded. If it wasn’t a trap, there was no way out anyway. Kill him and they kill you to avenge their leader, let him kill you and well… that was it. Your heart practically plummets to the pit of your stomach as you realize no matter what you do now, this will be your end.

You take another shaky step forward, rotting autumn leaves crunching under your boot as your hand clutches the cool metal dagger. As you adjust and readjust your grip on the hilt nervously, your eyes flicker back to his.

He’s practically grinning as he watches you shift nervously, and that's all it takes to set you off.

You rush him, drawing your hand back as you approach, poised to strike. He doesn’t move as you approach, almost as if he welcomes death.

Only he doesn’t. 

Of fucking course he doesn’t.

At the last second he grabs your wrist, punching a gasp from your lips as you feel just how strong he is. It’s like being manhandled by a fucking brick wall as he twists your arm and uses the momentum to spin you around so your arm is pinned behind your back. You feel his other hand come up to grab your throat, and you shut your eyes, preparing to run as you expect him to pull back hissing in pain when he touches the silver chain around your neck, but then…

Fuck.

Gloves.

You gasp at the feeling of leather instead of cold skin, dropping the dagger out of pure fear as a scream tries to rise in your throat. You really were going to die.

He chuckles darkly in your ear as his fingers find your necklace, plucking it off of you with ease.

“What’s this, hm?” 

He dangles it inches from your face, chuckling as you writhe and struggle under his iron grip. 

“Did you really think that this would protect you from me, streghetta? Did you think I’d writhe in pain, giving you the chance to escape me?” His voice is low, dangerous, almost a growl as he throws it to the ground. You feel his hot breath on your neck then, and you practically whimper as you realize what’s about to happen. “Think again.”

You make one last attempt at escape, using all your strength to try and wrench yourself out of his grasp. But you can’t, and instead are faced with the harsh reality that the fucker truly is undead, superhuman strength and all.

“Shhh…” He practically purrs in your ear. “This will hurt… a lot, but it’ll be over soon. Then you can sleep for all eternity, cara.”

His fangs pierce the delicate skin of your neck and you cry out in his arms. Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to fight, but every fight or flight instinct firing at the same time causes you to panic and freeze up, utterly paralyzed under his grasp.

He groans gutturally as your blood flows over his tongue and down his throat. Every single cell in his body is screaming your name without even knowing it. He wants desperately to drink you dry, to leave you broken and bloodless on the forest floor. But his senses are overloaded when he tastes how sweet your blood is. 

In all his years of immortality he had never tasted something so fucking decadent.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, your vision swimming as dizziness sets in and the world begins to spin around you. Your chest feels hot and damp, and you realize it’s your own blood running down your collarbone, past your neck, and down your chest.

He pulls away for a moment, and you feel his hot breath on your ear. The coppery smell of your blood on his breath makes you tremble violently in his arms.

“I was sent here to kill you, to stop you from ruining everything The Ministry has built… but how can I now that I have tasted how sweet you are, now that I know your blood sings to me?”

You can only whine as he latches his lips over the puncture wounds again, and the sound he makes is animalistic, and so fucking guttural that it makes your knees weak. He’s practically moaning at the taste of you, as his arm wraps around your torso, caging you more firmly against him. Your body grows heavier and weaker as you lose just enough blood to make dark spots dance across your vision. The last thing you see before losing consciousness is the stars through the trees, and for a moment, you think to yourself, this may not be such a bad way to die. Surrounded by nature, where you felt most at home, under the watchful eye of the Goddess.

It takes every ounce of self control for him to pull away from you as you pass out in his arms. As much as he wants to let greed win, he meant what he said before. He isn’t sure he can let you go now that he’s had a taste. He flicks his tongue over your wounds, as his saliva causes the blood to clot and stops the bleeding. The act is almost tender, a stark contrast to his almost violent feeding only moments before.

He stares down at your limp form in his arms, and he can’t help the growl that rises in his throat at the sight of your blood pooling on the leather of his gloves. The front of your corset is stained with the evidence of what he had done, and your skin looks a little paler than before in the moonlight, and he can’t help but think just how gorgeous you look like this. 

No, he decided. He won’t kill you tonight, you were too special, too valuable for that. Instead, he decides, he will keep you. He will tuck you away from the rest of the world. You’ll be his and only his, doomed to be his little blood bag for eternity.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

I will try my best to post updates biweekly, but if I don't keep up please have some grace, I have a full-time job and usually write whenever I have the time and energy.

Comments, kudos, and reblogs are always appreciated! ‪‪❤︎‬

Translations:

ragazza – girl strega/streghetta – witch cara - darling

Next Chapter...

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Did I Make Another WHB oc? Yes, yes I did. But this time it's a demon, so yeah.

(Yet another picrew that I ended up editing in ibis paint, because I still couldn't be bothered to dig out my art skills from the attic.)

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

𝕭𝖊𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖙𝖍 - The devil who values Freedom above all else

⛧𝕽𝖔𝖑𝖊⛧

Behemoth has no role. He was not created for any purpose nor has he found one to serve. Regardless of his old ties and commitments to Asmodeus and the role he played a bit too well back then, he is a wanderer now. Drifting along with the tide and figuring it out as he goes.

⛧𝕬𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊⛧

Despite living in Abbadon under Asmodeus' rule, Behemoth much prefers to abide by his own rules. While he'll certainly show up whenever his king calls for him, he usually does things for his own best interest or to satisfy the burning desire deep inside of him.

⛧𝕬𝖌𝖊⛧

Behemoth was made around the time most other demons were. He wasn't one of the first nor one of the last; he was simply somewhere in the middle.

⛧𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓⛧

Despite living in Abbadon, Behemoth's personality is a lot more reminiscent of someone who would live in Niflheim with how laid back and seemingly uncaring he is. He prefers to simply go wher the wind takes him, unbothered by morality, order, social norms, or the many attempts of others to befriend him. Behemoth is a free spirit, a very permoscuous one, but a free spirit none the less. He is a both a friend and enemy to none, not bothering to tie himself down by the weight of the responsibility and commitment it takes to have friends and loved ones.

⛧𝕸𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖒𝖘⛧

Scratching at the base of his horns, impulsively offering himself to strangers as a form of relief, biting the ball of his right palm when deep in thought, scratching patterns into his skin when bored, and mismanaging his money because he an impulsive spender.

⛧𝕬𝖛𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘⛧

Spontaneous sex with strangers, cloud watching, wandering the streets of Abbadon, dodging potential relationships, embracing freedom in all forms, weaving, and teasing Phenix.

⛧𝕭𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖘⛧

Behemoth follows the notion of freedom; valuing any and all types, but personal freedom is what he cares for the most. From the moment he stepped out of Abbadon's prison as a free demon, the path of freedom and independence is the one that guided him. He is not tied down by, morals, choices, duties, relationships, responsibilities, or commitments, he is simply free.

⛧𝕬𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘⛧

Asmodeus: Due to his past with the lust devil, Behemoth has made an effort to avoid unnecessary contact with him. He will come of he is called, but other than that, they have little to no interaction.

Dantalian: Behemoth has seen Dantalian in passing on many occasions, however they've never once spoken. They acknowledge one another with a simple nod if they see each other, despite not even knowing each other's names.

Ronove: Ronove is actually the one who gave Behemoth the harness that he wears all the time; it was an offer of friendship that Behemoth reluctantly accepted.

Phenix: He and Phenix are acquaintances with benefits. They don't spend enough time around each other to be friends but they've done far too much with each other to be strangers.

MC: Honestly, to Behemoth, MC is not hot at all. Why is he suddenly a part of this human's enterage? He never made a contract with Solomon, so someone make this human stop trying to put their hands in his mouth.

⛧𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖇𝖆𝖙 𝕱𝖚𝖓𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓⛧

Brutal front line attacker:

Behemoth wields the chained leash of his collar as a weapon; whipping his chain up into the air, around the wings of attacking angels and yanking it back down with enough force to pull them from the air, ripping the wings from their backs. While he'd rather be lounging around in some rando's bed or sucking someone off, he'll still fight if he has to.

⛧𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖘⛧

Performing most of not all acts of the sexual nature, persuasion, weaving various items, fighting with rope or chain like weaponry, body modification, and stress relief.

⛧𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘⛧

Most acts of sex, getting new tattoos and piercings, inflicting pain on himself of having other do so, inflicting lasting injuries (bites, nail indents, scratches), all kinds if personal and impersonal freedom, shitty junk food, being used by others, and going with the flow.

⛧𝕽𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘⛧

Being tied down in the metaphorical sense, having to sleep outside on the sidewalk, being asked about his incarceration, making serious or deeply important choices, making connections with others, sacrificing his freedom, and things that are 'not hot at all'.

⛧𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖆⛧

Exhibitionism: gaining sexual gratification and excitement from the act of exposing oneself or one's genitalia in a public or semi-public space or in front of consenting or non-consenting parties; usually during intercourse or and act of foreplay.

⛧𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖘⛧

The base of his horns has started itching again, he spent the last of his money so now he can't buy any snacks, the human that suddenly showed up won't leave him be with this whole contract thing, and his leash was cut from his collar by an angel.

⛧𝕻𝖍𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖆𝖘⛧

Hypengyophobia: the intense or irrational fear of taking and admitting responsibility.

Soteriophobia: the intense or irrational fear of being or becoming dependent on another individual(s) or item(s).

Gamophobia: the intense or irrational fear of making short or longterm committments to actions, choices, or relationships.

⛧𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞⛧

Morality is not something Behemoth concerns himself with. He walks to the beat of his own drum, marching down the path of freedom he's chosen for himself with no worry of whether or not his choices, words, or actions are socially acceptable. But this is hell, so really, anything goes.

⛧𝕮𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖞⛧

Behemoth has no home; he is a wanderer, never staying in one place for too long. While his days are spent walking the streets of Abbadon, his nights are spent in the beds of fellow horny strangers. It's a pretty good cycle, honestly.

⛧𝕬𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖙⛧

Faux Leather Collar & Chain Leash:

The collar and leash that Behemoth seemingly never takes off. It's rumored to be a gift from Asmodeus himself, but Behemoth has yet to confirm or deny if it's true. If you ever come across absentminded demon wandering the alleyways of Abbadon and want to have some fun, give that leash a good tug, he won't mind at all!

⛧𝕱𝖚𝖓 𝕱𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖘⛧

⸸ Behemoth is one of the demons that hadn't made a contract with Solomon. The sorcerer had offered but was declined, as Behemoth would rather keep his metaphorical freedom and autonomy instead.

⸸ Originally, Behemoth's appearance was that of a very tall and muscular demon that put even Mammon's figure to shame. Towering over most of the population of Abbadon; he was given the name 'Behemoth' by Asmodeus after stumbling upon the lust demon one day.

⸸ Not long after Solomon died, Behemoth was incarcerated in Abbadon's prison. The reason is only known by his Majesty Asmodeus and Behemoth himself and what went on in the prison during his years locked away is too a mystery.

⸸ Despite not having many friends, Behemoth is actually rather infamous among the dingy backstreets of Abbadon. Not for his free use, free stress relief policy when it comes to hookups, but for his terrifying strength that he displayed in the past. Before he was imprisoned, he was known for exacting the Asmodeus', wrath unto his enemies. Using his terrifying strength and abilities to level an entire block in one swing.

⸸ An innate talent that Behemoth has is his ability to change his bodily construction at will. Changing his size, shape, height, musculature, scale, etc. with only his thoughts, allowing him to take any shape he wishes.

⸸ Weaving is one of Behemoth's favorite hobbies. Usually its weaving together strips of leather to make into a fun toy that his flings can use on him, but he's also woven together several different tapestries and baskets, usually dismantling them after he gets a good picture.

⸸ Behemoth may or may not have slept with every demon in Abbadon; even he himself doesn't know because of his tendency not to pay attention to or bother to remember who he's with at any given time. Although, he's probably slept with even more people than that, but it's not like he's keeping count.

⸸ Behemoth's 'free use, free stress relief' policy is applied at anytime anywhere to anyone; he doesn't care if some stranger just walks up and has their way with him. He encourages it actually. It's a good way to relieve the build up of overwhelming desire that grows with each moment he spends under the influence of Asmodeus energy.

⸸ The dingy backstreets and alleyways of Abbadon is usually where you can find Behemoth. Because he has no home, he wanders about the cramped paths between buildings, looking for his next fling. When he finds them, he goes home with them for the night, having a nice warm bed to sleep in and a sometimes even a nice breakfast in the morning.

⸸ A good way to bribe Behemoth into helping you out is to offer him some sort of cheap junk food. None of that fancy healthy stuff, no, he wants the dirt cheap, super processed, incredibly unhealthy kind. He likes the feeling of the heartburn it gives him after he eats a lot, the masochist.

⛧𝖁𝖔𝖎𝖈𝖊 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘⛧

Lobby Interaction 1: ❝You're looking at me... You can touch if you want to. I don't mind. Just make sure you're prepared to finish what you start.❞

Lobby Interaction 2: ❝Contract? I didn't make one of those, remember? This is the fifth time you've asked... that's not hot at all...❞

Lobby Interaction 3: ❝His Majesty... he's alright. We don't talk much anymore. His energy is annoying though, just look at poor Phenix.❞

Lobby Interaction 4: ❝Hm? Oh. I went out for a while, don't worry about it.❞

Lobby Interaction 5: ❝Should I get more tats...? Eh... maybe I'll get a trampstamp this time.❞

Lobby Interaction 6: ❝Hey, do you want to play with me? I can see you staring, so don't try to pretend. You don't have to though, you can just watch. I love when people watch.❞

Lobby Interaction 7: ❝Ugh. My horns... so itchy...❞

Lobby Interaction 8: ❝I wonder if Ronove has another harness for me? One with studs... yeah, that's super hot...❞

Lobby Interaction 9: ❝Ah... the bites are starting to fade again... that's not hot at all...❞

Lobby Interaction 10: ❝I kind of want another piercing now... should I do my bellybutton or my lips...?❞

First Meeting: ❝Huh? Who're you? Ah, wait- actually, I don't care, so don't bother. Anyway, how long do you want to go for? You can be as rough as you like, I don't mind.❞

Level Up: ❝Shit‐! Do that again!❞

Evolve: ❝N-ngh! Th‐that's— that's so hot!❞

Death: ❝I feel... so free...❞

Ultimate Skill: ❝Let me show you what it's like to be truly free... in death!❞

Victory 1: ❝Good, it's over. I need to go and play for a while, so don't go looking for me.❞

Victory 2: ❝Winners are the ones who are able to live the freest lives, aren't they...?❞

Defeat: ❝Whuh? I lost? That's... not hot at all...❞

⛧𝕳𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖘⛧

A while ago, Behemoth got into an altercation with another demon and ended up sustaining excessive damage to his horns, so he decided to cut them off down to the root. Currently, they are growing back at a steady pace, but due to how low he cut them, the skin of his scalp around the base of his horns stretches as they grow, causing them to itch. Behemoth's horns, originally glossy black in color and reaching 45.72 centimeters long where they curved backward around his head, have a tendency to continue growing even after reaching the previously mentioned length. He's made a habit of grinding his horns down to a more manageable size as a way to deal with it.

⛧𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞 𝕴𝖓𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓⛧

4%: His constellation is... Taurus. 36%: His favorite food is... Cheap Junk Food. 64%: His ideal type is... someone who's down for whatever.

⛧𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖙⛧

👤 <「H͟e͟y͟」

👤 <「W​̲h​̲o​̲'​̲s​̲ ​̲n​̲u​̲m​̲b​̲e​̲r​̲ ​̲i​̲s​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲i​̲s​̲?​̲」

👤 <「I​̲t​̲ ​̲w​̲a​̲s​̲ ​̲i​̲n​̲ ​̲m​̲y​̲ ​̲c​̲o​̲n​̲t​̲a​̲c​̲t​̲s​̲ ​̲b​̲u​̲t​̲ ​̲I​̲ ​̲f​̲o​̲r​̲g​̲o​̲t​̲ ​̲t​̲o​̲ ​̲p​̲u​̲t​̲ ​̲a​̲ ​̲n​̲a​̲m​̲e​̲ ​̲d​̲o​̲w​̲n​̲ ​̲o​̲r​̲ ​̲m​̲a​̲y​̲b​̲e​̲ ​̲I​̲ ​̲j​̲u​̲s​̲t​̲ ​̲d​̲i​̲d​̲n​̲'​̲t​̲ ​̲c​̲a​̲r​̲e​̲」

Choices: 「Y​̲o​̲u​̲ ​̲f​̲o​̲r​̲g​̲o​̲t​̲ ​̲m​̲e​̲ ​̲a​̲l​̲r​̲e​̲a​̲d​̲y​̲?​̲ ​̲I​̲'​̲m​̲ ​̲M​̲C​̲,​̲ ​̲w​̲e​̲ ​̲j​̲u​̲s​̲t​̲ ​̲t​̲a​̲l​̲k​̲e​̲d​̲」> or 「I​̲t​̲'​̲s​̲ ​̲m​̲e​̲!​̲ ​̲M​̲C​̲!​̲」>

👤 <「O​̲h​̲」

👤 <「W​̲e​̲l​̲l​̲ ​̲m​̲y​̲ ​̲b​̲a​̲d​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲e​̲n​̲」

👤 <「A​̲c​̲t​̲u​̲a​̲l​̲l​̲y​̲,​̲ ​̲n​̲o​̲w​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲a​̲t​̲ ​̲I​̲'​̲m​̲ ​̲t​̲a​̲l​̲k​̲i​̲n​̲g​̲ ​̲t​̲o​̲ ​̲y​̲o​̲u​̲,​̲ ​̲I​̲ ​̲h​̲a​̲v​̲e​̲ ​̲s​̲o​̲m​̲e​̲t​̲h​̲i​̲n​̲g​̲ ​̲t​̲o​̲ ​̲a​̲s​̲k​̲」

Choices: 「R​̲e​̲a​̲l​̲l​̲y​̲?​̲ ​̲T​̲h​̲a​̲t​̲'​̲s​̲ ​̲u​̲n​̲e​̲x​̲p​̲e​̲c​̲t​̲e​̲d​̲」> or 「S​̲u​̲r​̲e​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲i​̲n​̲g​̲,​̲ ​̲w​̲h​̲a​̲t​̲'​̲s​̲ ​̲u​̲p​̲?​̲」>

👤 <「C​̲a​̲n​̲ ​̲y​̲o​̲u​̲ ​̲l​̲e​̲n​̲d​̲ ​̲m​̲e​̲ ​̲s​̲o​̲m​̲e​̲ ​̲m​̲o​̲n​̲e​̲y​̲?​̲」

👤 <「I​̲ ​̲s​̲p​̲e​̲n​̲t​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲e​̲ ​̲l​̲a​̲s​̲t​̲ ​̲o​̲f​̲ ​̲m​̲i​̲n​̲e​̲ ​̲o​̲n​̲ ​̲r​̲u​̲b​̲b​̲e​̲r​̲s​̲ ​̲a​̲n​̲d​̲ ​̲I​̲'​̲v​̲e​̲ ​̲g​̲o​̲t​̲ ​̲a​̲ ​̲h​̲e​̲l​̲l​̲ ​̲o​̲f​̲ ​̲a​̲ ​̲c​̲r​̲a​̲v​̲i​̲n​̲g​̲ ​̲f​̲o​̲r​̲ ​̲s​̲o​̲m​̲e​̲ ​̲s​̲h​̲i​̲t​̲t​̲y​̲ ​̲s​̲n​̲a​̲c​̲k​̲s​̲ ​̲r​̲i​̲g​̲h​̲t​̲ ​̲n​̲o​̲w​̲」

👤 <「Y​̲o​̲u​̲'​̲r​̲e​̲ ​̲f​̲r​̲i​̲e​̲n​̲d​̲s​̲ ​̲w​̲i​̲t​̲h​̲ ​̲T​̲a​̲r​̲t​̲a​̲r​̲o​̲s​̲'​̲ ​̲M​̲a​̲m​̲m​̲o​̲n​̲ ​̲o​̲r​̲ ​̲w​̲h​̲a​̲t​̲e​̲v​̲e​̲r​̲,​̲ ​̲r​̲i​̲g​̲h​̲t​̲?​̲ ​̲Y​̲o​̲u​̲ ​̲s​̲h​̲o​̲u​̲l​̲d​̲ ​̲h​̲a​̲v​̲e​̲ ​̲m​̲o​̲r​̲e​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲a​̲n​̲ ​̲e​̲n​̲o​̲u​̲g​̲h​̲ ​̲c​̲a​̲s​̲h​̲ ​̲t​̲o​̲ ​̲s​̲p​̲a​̲r​̲e​̲」

Choices: 「I​̲ ​̲g​̲u​̲e​̲s​̲s​̲ ​̲I​̲ ​̲c​̲a​̲n​̲ ​̲l​̲e​̲n​̲d​̲ ​̲y​̲o​̲u​̲ ​̲s​̲o​̲m​̲e​̲」> or 「O​̲h​̲,​̲ ​̲s​̲u​̲r​̲e​̲,​̲ ​̲M​̲a​̲m​̲m​̲o​̲n​̲ ​̲d​̲i​̲d​̲ ​̲g​̲i​̲v​̲e​̲ ​̲m​̲e​̲ ​̲a​̲ ​̲l​̲o​̲t​̲」>

👤 <「G​̲o​̲o​̲d​̲」

👤 <「I​̲ ​̲w​̲a​̲s​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲i​̲n​̲k​̲i​̲n​̲g​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲a​̲t​̲ ​̲y​̲o​̲u​̲ ​̲w​̲o​̲u​̲l​̲d​̲ ​̲s​̲a​̲y​̲ ​̲n​̲o​̲,​̲ ​̲s​̲i​̲n​̲c​̲e​̲ ​̲y​̲o​̲u​̲'​̲r​̲e​̲ ​̲n​̲o​̲t​̲ ​̲a​̲l​̲l​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲a​̲t​̲ ​̲h​̲o​̲t​̲,​̲ ​̲y​̲a​̲'​̲k​̲n​̲o​̲w​̲?​̲ ​̲B​̲u​̲t​̲ ​̲I​̲ ​̲g​̲u​̲e​̲s​̲s​̲ ​̲I​̲ ​̲w​̲a​̲s​̲ ​̲w​̲r​̲o​̲n​̲g​̲,​̲ ​̲y​̲o​̲u​̲'​̲r​̲e​̲ ​̲p​̲r​̲e​̲t​̲t​̲y​̲ ​̲h​̲o​̲t​̲ ​̲a​̲f​̲t​̲e​̲r​̲ ​̲a​̲l​̲l​̲」

👤 <「O​̲h​̲,​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲a​̲t​̲'​̲s​̲ ​̲r​̲i​̲g​̲h​̲t​̲」

👤 <「I​̲'​̲m​̲ ​̲n​̲o​̲t​̲ ​̲p​̲a​̲y​̲i​̲n​̲g​̲ ​̲y​̲o​̲u​̲ ​̲b​̲a​̲c​̲k​̲,​̲ ​̲s​̲o​̲ ​̲d​̲o​̲n​̲'​̲t​̲ ​̲e​̲x​̲p​̲e​̲c​̲t​̲ ​̲a​̲n​̲y​̲t​̲h​̲i​̲n​̲g​̲ ​̲f​̲r​̲o​̲m​̲ ​̲m​̲e​̲,​̲ ​̲I​̲ ​̲p​̲r​̲o​̲b​̲a​̲b​̲l​̲y​̲ ​̲s​̲h​̲o​̲u​̲l​̲d​̲'​̲v​̲e​̲ ​̲m​̲e​̲n​̲t​̲i​̲o​̲n​̲e​̲d​̲ ​̲t​̲h​̲a​̲t​̲ ​̲b​̲e​̲f​̲o​̲r​̲e​̲」

End.

⛧𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖈⛧

N/A

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Sorry guys, no link on this one.

[neonscandal]

9 Anime to Watch to Feel Like This 👇🏾

The alternative title/concept for this list was "Anime Featuring The Zaddiests of Daddies" but, you know. Consistency or whatever. When I saw the gif, however, I cackled so loud that I figured it still captured The Vibe ✨ (that being #fatherless) Considering this context, some recommendations are slightly longer than the usual bite size serving of 12-24 episodes but you won't regret indulging. Each show is recommended for the plot which is very evident with the teaser gifs. Happy Fathers' Day, you degenerates. And remember, you don't have to have kids to be a Daddy. 😈❤️

Spy x Family (series) - There is something so wholesome about the fate of the world as he knows it relying on how convincingly he can portray a Good Father despite his own origin story. Loid Forger, in a mission to maintain peace, creates the perfect family through any means necessary. Doubt he realized, in doing so, he'd create a home for himself and the oddballs helping to keep up the ruze.

Sub/Dub | Crunchyroll, Hulu

Buddy Daddies (series) - The life of hitmen Rei Suwa and Kazuki Kurusu get a bit more messy when one of their hits leaves them with a pretty sizable loose end. Regardless of their occupation, their lives change around a little girl and trying to provide as good a home as two, single twenty-something men can. The rest, they'll figure out.

Sub/Dub | Crunchyroll

My Senpai is Annoying (series) - Very capable working woman finds herself kohai to an older, overly chummy colleague who DEFINITELY does not know how to PDF documents unsupervised. This is a show about their day to day interactions. If you're wondering if Takeda is the only contender in this series, hold out for Futaba's grandfather. Just trust me.

Sub/Dub | Crunchyroll

Jujutsu Kaisen (series + movie) - *Gestures vaguely to my blog* This show has plenty of compelling reasons to become obsessed. Trying to train strong child soldiers to protect the balance of humans vs curses so they don’t see a grisly demise is just one of them. Not your average shonen, not your average found families.

Sub/Dub | Crunchyroll, Netflix, Hulu

My Hero Academia (series + movies) - Something about kids needing guidance so as not to die while in the pursuit of some great civic duty really creates an environment for some skrunkly father figures. 😘👌🏾 Never mind that the climax of this story is one that tangles generations of families as society adapts to the advent of super powers.

Sub/Dub | Crunchyroll, Hulu, Netflix

Fire Force (series) - in a world where humans can spontaneously combust, Shinra, who is blamed for the fire that killed his mother and younger brother, seeks to overcome the stigma of his power and joins Fire Force Company 8. In training to fight Infernals, he learns to control his pyrokineses under the guidance of many talented fighters while trying to understand the world around him and the invisible hand that manipulates everything.

Sub/Dub | Crunchyroll, Hulu

Attack on Titan (series) - Unpredictable violence at the vicious jaws of larger than life monsters, the last remaining humans seek refuse behind hallowed walls. Until one day, the day the first wall fell, which made what once provided security feel more like a holding pen ahead of the slaughter. As resources dwindle and the indomitable curiosity of humans persist, the brave minority pushes the boundaries of the walls that house them and seek to uncover the shroud of mystery as of how they found themselves prisoners to titans in the first place.

Sub/Dub | Crunchyroll, Hulu, Sling TV

Chainsaw Man (series) - Human fears strengthen devils which threaten to overrun the world. Enter the Public Safety Devil Hunters responsible for exterminating devils before they become bigger problems and keeping a bead on larger threats, namely, the Gun Devil. The titular character eventually falls under the supervision of Aki Hayakawa (and later Kishibe *swoon*) who has a strong single-dad-who-works-two-jobs-who-loves-his-kids-and-never-stops type vibe.

Sub/Dub | Crunchyroll, Hulu

Blue Exorcist (series + movie) - When your dad is Satan, the bar is literally in hell for the man who steps up to raise you. Even so, LOOK AT THE DRIP. There's a narrow line to walk when trying to overcome your own parentage and twin brothers, Rin and Yukio, seek to do so by following in their adoptive father, Shiro Fujimoto's, footsteps despite obvious adversity. Just remember to skip to Season 2 after episode 17 or Google the proper order to watch.

Sub/Dub | Crunchyroll, Hulu

[sidthedollface2]

A Crown fit for a God

(Part 2)

(Part 1 here)

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader

Summary: An enemy threatens Velaris leaving Azriel to choose between his found family and a long lost friend. Can he juggle the two or will he fall for the enemy?

Ch Summary: After you threaten Velaris with war. Azriel is tasked to find you and bring you to the prison above the mountain. He shadows have other plans when they confront you.

word count: 2.6k

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, hurt/comfort,light smut, war, including injuries, fighting, sign language, no use of y/n, nicknames, magic, greek mythology, pining, jealousy, azriel with other women (sorry), reader with another man (get it friend ; )

A/n: I hope this Ch sheds a little light as to what reader is and about her powers. I'm a daydreamer not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol

In the beginning there was Khaos. The first God in existence to precede creation. Khaos filled the space between, invoking darkness and shadow. Unable to witness her work, her intense desire to see flickered before her. Discovering her own spark, she flew towards it, the force of her wings igniting, leaving a trail of stardust; giving birth to the vast universe. From her own will khaos had created the primordial deities that would reign over the elements of the universe. And thus terra, sky, darkness, light, night and day were created.  

 From the very desires of the first primordial gods, Demi Gods emerged, living among mortals and immortals. Soon enough these half gods no longer wanted the responsibility of mortals. Thanatos and his sisters, the Gods of Death grew tired of being witness to so much violence and bloodshed. Leaving their duties caused a riot. No other God would carry the burden of their responsibilities on top of their own. Those loyal to the Divine fought in the war of Gods, neither side backing down regardless of how much blood had been spilled. Khaos wept as she witnessed her slain children. Fighting against her kin, tears streamed down her face as she slaughtered her very own. Devastated, she fell to her knees in defeat, between her sobs she whispered in the ancient tongue, “I bind myself to the darkness of death, overpowering my light within so long as my spark prevails through the moonless journey.” All fighting ceased as every God witnessed khaos, bringer of life, descend to the lands in the form of a falling star. The fates of two entwined. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house of wind was anxious, each door closed with a slam, rattling the photos that hung along the walls. The foundation, made from the mountain rock, shook and with it pieces of rubble and dust would float to the floors. Often the roaring would come back, leaving its inhabitants wide eyed and on edge. 

every member of the inner circle sat in Rhys office. The air thick with tension as Azriel explained his actions, why he blocked Cassian from hurting you, why he needed to be the one to search for you. Many questions left unanswered. How did you find Velaris? And what kind of ancient magic would allow you to pass through his wards so easily?

“Rhys, I know her! We were childhood friends!” Azriel pleads, “let me find her.” 

Elain’s eyes darted to Azriel, questioning his reason for his blatant lies. She knew he saw you once and never again. Yet she remained silent, a question for another day. 

Rhys sighed, leaning back in his chair. All eyes were on him as he stared at the map of Prythian that lay across his desk. He took a sip of his whiskey, considering his next move. One by one he informed them of their duties, sending every member away as soon as they received their mission.

Cassian was sent to Windhaven to ready the warriors and ensure their weapons were up to par for battle. Amren and Nesta were to stay in Velaris to survey and defend the city in case you returned. Mor was to revisit the courts that had scorched farmlands and buildings, to see if there were any more details that they overlooked. Elain wished to stay in Velaris and investigate the reason the house was slowly deteriorating. Rhys agreed. Finally he ordered Feyre to accompany Azriel in his search for you. 

Azriel ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, “No Rhys it has to be me alone. You can trust me.”

“After what I saw today, I’m not so sure where your mind is. I trust that you ‘ll do the right thing, but I don't agree with your current judgment so I’m sending Feyre with you.” 

Azriels shoulders slumped as he nodded in defeat. Feyre placed a gentle hand on his back, attempting to soothe his disappointment.

~~~~~~~~~~

Feyre walked Azriel back to his room but before he entered she grabbed his arm moving him to face her. “ I have a friend I need to visit and he doesn't like when others tag along,” she whispered, hoping no one else would hear her. Azriel narrowed his eyes. “ So I hope you understand that I won't be joining you on your mission,” she winked, releasing her hold on him. Azriel just smirked, mouthing her a ‘thank you.’

Back in his room, Azriel cleared his desk of all the healer books he had meticulously studied.  All these years he’d been searching for a healer when in fact you were a God, at least according to Amren. He spent hours searching Death Gods and tracing back their lineage and none had the powers you possessed, the power in which made him search for you. The power to heal. “You've been at it for hours, come to bed honey,” Elains sweet voice brought him out of his thoughts. “None of this makes sense,” he said mostly to himself as he shook his head, ignoring Elains request.

She stood behind him, gently kneading his tense shoulders with her slim fingers. His back tensed at her touch, purely focused on his work. Determined to get him to bed, Elain rested her chin on his shoulder, angling her head towards his ear as she whispered seductively her desires. His eyes fluttered closed in frustration, as she placed wet kisses to the curve of his neck, humming at the taste of him. “Not tonight.” Coldly he shrugged her off, hating the pain she held in her eyes. Without a word Elain stepped away, leaving Azriel to drown in his work, drown in his thoughts of you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And then I pushed through, you should have seen their faces,” you chuckled, recounting the events from Velaris to your dearest friend.  “No matter the job you always try to make it fun.” He replied, petting the hen that sat in his lap; a gift you had brought him for the delicious tea leaves he had acquired. 

You smile, enjoying his company that you often missed. Out of the corner of your eye, a wisp of shadow scurries into the darkness of the night, earning your full undivided attention. Nothing but silence is heard. “What was that?” you ask, turning back to the Suriel. “An invisible thread that weaves and winds, binding hearts two of a kind.” you gape at him, blinking your eyes rapidly, “I don't even want to know.” A chuckle rattles in his throat, “go before he finds you.” Without another word shimmer and darkness envelope you, winnowing you far from the Night Court.

Azriels shadows darted through the low grounds of the woods, swerving through a dense thicket of birch trees and rock formations, scouring each bush and body of water in search of you. Once they spotted you, they quickly returned to their master, curling around his ear ,whispering ‘Suriel.’  

Just as you winnowed away a blade launched itself toward the Suriel; flying through the air from a shroud of darkness, pinning his cloak to a tree. “Where is she?” he asks, tone impatient and demanding.

“Here, there, everywhere.”

Azriel pinches the space between his brows in annoyance. Shaking his head he asks another question, hoping for a straight answer.

“How do I find her?” 

“Evoke emotions without a single touch, no wings yet able to fly. To catch this God let her hear the cords of the night.” 

“I don’t…..these riddles. I don't understand.” Azriel paced in front of the Suriel, wracking his brain for any clues. 

“The touch of a memory will carry her to you.”

“Stop with the riddles!” Azriel fumed, teeth clenched tight as he stared the Suriel down. 

“Are you not a shadowsinger?” he replied, pulling out the blade that held his cloak to the tree. “I've answered your questions, whether you can decipher the meaning is no business of mine.” Finished with Azriels questioning, the Suriel made his way through the woods, hen in hand for a fresh slaughter. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had taken Azriel a few days to figure out the riddle. Repeating the words over and over, analyzing each term and its meaning. The line ‘hear the cords of the night’ was what led him to realize it was a song, but what song was what stumped him. He felt like a fool singing his favorite songs in the middle of the forest, belting it out with his whole chest.

He sang songs that made him teary eyed and even sang songs in the ancient tongue, but none of those had lured you to him. The Suriel mentioned ‘the touch of a memory,’  “oh Gods, I’m an idiot,” he said to himself. He only had one encounter with you, so it was easy to remember the events of that night, all these years he could never forget. He would never forget the song, the song he thinks is about you. His mother sang this song to him as a child and he wonders if she knew the dark power you possessed, was she singing to a God in hopes to answer her prayers, to lift her from the chains that held her down. 

The house of wind kindly provided warm tea and honey. It's eagerness to assist him piqued his curiosity. He would ask Elain about her findings another day. Soothing his vocal cords, a plan was formed to capture you and send you to the prison on top of the mountain.

You're the chaos of the night, 

A little girl lost in the woods

You're a folktale, the unexplainable

You're a bedtime story

The one that keeps the curtains closed

And I hope you're waiting for me

'Cause I can't make it on my own

I can't make it on my own. 

Azriel sang the words from his childhood, voice harmonious with a smooth baritone that held the memories from the past. He sang from the depths of his heart in hopes that the meaning behind his words would grace your ears and become a light in the dark. Guiding you towards his waiting arms.

Weathered leaves crunch under the weight of your relaxed body, grass floor cold and damp from the night. But the view of the stars in the Night Court were your favorite, they called to you as if saying 'stay.' Stars glitter like rare diamonds, and the crescent moon smiled brighter than the sun. The evening scent of mist and night felt familiar in the way that reminded you of home. It had been so long since you’ve been home, the thought of never returning grew closer and closer.

The midnight breeze caresses your skin, its gentle touch has your eyes closing, focusing on  the chirping of crickets and running water. A mellow voice sings the harmonious music of the night, its soft whisper tickles your ear like a past lover, luring you to follow the rich sound.

I hope you're waiting for me

Across your carpet of stars

You're the chaos of the night,

You're everything that we can't see

Chaos, you're the possibility.

Azriel ceases to sing once he spots you round a thick tree, his shadows excitedly rush towards you and Azriel curses under his breath at their eagerness. He observes as they affectionately coil around your neck, fluffing about in your hair before they trail down your arms. You giggle at their curiosity as they loop around your fingers, “you wanna play?” you ask, as you slowly move your fingers in awe at their closeness. They playfully bounce from one hand to the other, and you take that as a yes. Azriel is dumbfounded as he admires his shadows from afar. He has his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against a tree, his gaze slowly trails up the delicious curves of your body and he imagines what it would be like to lay with a God. He sees you smile and nod at whatever they’ve whispered in your ear and he fears you both are up to no good. As the shadows dance in a circle just a few feet in front of you, they rapidly circle around and around creating a whirlwind of darkness. Cautiously you near the edge of their tornado and zap one of the shadows, creating an orb of light within the vortex. You're mesmerized by the display in front of you. Your power bounces off the shadowed wisps like an elegant dance, the wisps gently stroke the flame of your power, careful to not get scorched.

With the blink of your eye the orb bursts, spraying the ground and trees with thousands of specs of glittering starlight. Azriel feels a jolt of electricity zip up his body, shaking him so hard he loses balance off the tree, quickly righting himself before you notice. His effort is too late, you've already spotted him.

“You're not a stalker are you?” you ask, voice playful and curious as you near him.

If you only knew, Azriel thinks with a smirk.

“No, but I can be. Nice party trick by the way.” Azriel pushes off the tree to meet you. The first thing you notice is his eyes, hazel and dreamy framed by long thick lashes. His nose is straight and a little too perfect for a warrior, you wonder if he’s ever been punched in the face before, or maybe he's just that good at fighting. His high cheekbones and strong jaw remind you of the many demi gods that have been sculpted throughout the years. You eye him up and down, taking in his stature and broad shoulders. He’s a little too handsome and in your experience these types of males are conceited snobs who only enjoy their own reflection and company. Meanwhile Azriel does the same, completely entranced by the sway of your hips and how your hair flows over the swell of your breasts. 

“They seemed friendly.” you respond, tipping your head to the shadows that have swirled around the both of you, appearing to close the distance between you.

Azriel shakes his head, “I meant in Velaris. You threaten my home, my friends and my High Lord and expect to get away with it? How did you get past the wards? And how did you find Velaris?” 

Before you could respond the ground shakes as a blast erupts creating a cloud of dust and forest debris. Instinctually Azriel pulls your body flush to his, shielding you from injury. Dark membranous wings curl around your body, cocooning you safely in his arms. Your hands find the planes of his toned chest as you peer up at him through your full lashes. You know what the blast was but the feeling of his body pressed against yours had your knees weak, and you couldn't break away. 

Azriels heart is ramming against his chest at the proximity, his gaze is locked on your brilliant eyes as he dares to cup the side of your cheek. Angling your face to meet his, your exposed collarbone catches his attention when a bargain tattoo vanishes before his eyes; breaking the trance you had him in.

“What did you bargain?” he urges, hands now tightly gripping your upper arms.

“Your worst nightmare.”

Azriel staggered back, paling in horror as he registered your words.

Only one creature carried that name.

Bryaxis.

Part 3

Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @going-through-shit

[torukmaktoskxawng]

84 w/ lo'ak x omatikaya!reader? there weren't any more lo'ak fics so I'm here requesting one, ty‼️‼️

#84: Falling Asleep On Their Shoulder

Pairing: Lo'ak x Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Short, fluff, sfw, proofread by me

Na'vi Words: olo'eyktan - clan leader, kelku - home, Iknimaya - Rite of Passage

Taglist: @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter

A/N: I am so sorry for such a late response 🙏 I hope this makes up for it

~~~~~~~~~

Exhaustion was inevitable.

As a son of the olo'eyktan, Lo'ak finds himself dragged into all sorts of tasks throughout the village. He wasn't Neteyam, but he still had certain duties that were required of him, and while he was able to get away with not doing some of it when he was a kid, he couldn't ignore them now, as a fully seen adult.  

You always find yourself busy as well, being a prominent figure in your clan. You had worked up a reputation as someone hardworking and eager to strengthen the Omatikaya, which is why many people were shocked to learn when Lo'ak first started to court you. The two of you were complete opposites, and many thought you would be a better match for Neteyam -not that they would have the balls to say it out loud- but as time went on, everyone could see how yours and Lo'ak's differences clearly made the best dynamic. You two are a team and a really good one. 

Regardless, it was hard to find time for each other. You would think being recently mated, you would have all the time in the world together, exploring the newest dynamic in your relationship. The "honeymoon phase" as some humans call it. But alas, you barely see one another, and when you finally do, you're too tired to do anything other than fall asleep in each other's arms.

Lo'ak doesn't mind it, and he tells himself that as he looks down at your sleeping figure, head tucked into the juncture between his shoulder and neck. He wasn't as tired as he'd normally be by the end of the day, but that didn't mean he was going to disturb whatever rest you clearly needed to spend some quality time with you. Instead, he stayed up, sitting in front of your kelku's hearth, while you sat in his lap and leaned against his shoulder to rest. His thumb absently rubbed soothing circles against the small of your back, smiling to himself when your tail unconsciously thwacked his knee in response. 

Even if it wasn't real quality time, Lo'ak would never take advantage of it. There was a time when you were younger that he couldn't even sit close to you because of common Na'vi courtesies. He wanted to do this right, such as asking your family for permission and taking the needed steps to eventually have you as his mate. If his father thinks he does nothing but screw up all the time, Lo'ak didn't want this to be one of them. He had to restrain himself until both of you completed your Iknimaya and began courting. 

Now that he finally has you in his arms, he'll take whatever you want to give him, because even just falling asleep in his arms is enough to satiate him. 

~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

[robotsandjunk]

how do each of the decepticons prefer to give and/or receive aftercare? it's ok if u don't do all of them, im really thinking about soundwave, shockwave and megatron or whomever other favs urs are! knowing that some of them are into more rougher sex, would that translate into aftercare being brief? or would they prefer to be held and cleaned, maybe a shower together? Etc. even with shockwave going solo with his machines, does he take care of himself after like his partners might or does he just collapse and nap lol

I’m just going to do Soundwave, Shockwave and Megatron since they’re the one I have the most practice writing, but maybe in the future I’ll give some other cons some love

Soundwave treats aftercare like a mission in some ways when he’s giving, he’ll have everything ready to go be it towels, energon, or extra blankets before he even thinks about touching his partner. His basic routine before he modifies it to suit his partner is to get them set up with a snack/drink and some blankets and let them settle down whilst he runs an oil bath, once the bath is run he’ll get in with them and go over how the scene went. When he doms it’s definitely in a service top way, so he treats aftercare as an extension of those responsibilities. On the flip side he can be a bit weird about receiving aftercare, his need to be of service run even deeper when he subs so often times if it’s a rough session or even if something was to go wrong he’d see it as part of his ‘duties’ to kinda just deal with it. He works best with a no nonsense partner who can tell when he’s just saying he’s fine. Soundwave is easily overstimulated so the best aftercare for him is to have what he needs in reach and his partner passing them to him as needed.

Shockwave is very similar in how he gives and receives aftercare in that he makes sure everything is in working order, gets a ‘report’ on how his experiment went and then sends his partner on their way. He provides things to eat and a place to clean up but aside from that he’s relatively hands off, unless his subject asks in which case he’s willing to change his usual post experiment debriefing (as he would call it) to suit his subjects needs, but his partner would need to be able to take some initiative. In receiving he’s likely to just state plainly what he wants his partner to do, if he’s going solo he ideally wants to be able to clean up and make sure he’s not done any damage but most of the time he’ll end up taking a quick nap. (He probably has a system that alerts Megatron or Soundwave if he’s still sleeping after a certain amount of time)

Megatron is very direct when it comes to aftercare, he’ll do the basics of cleaning his partner up and making sure they’re cared for appropriately. He’s an old man with lots of experience so he’ll usually insist on discussing what aftercare will entail beforehand regardless of whether he’s giving or receiving so it can feel a little like he’s just going through a routine. He does pay very close attention however and those years of experience lend themselves to him spotting when his sub needs something but won’t ask for it. When he’s receiving he prefers just a quick wipe down and a bit of energon, and if he’s feeling affectionate a nice lie down with his partner whilst he discusses literature he’s fond of. Megatron gets a little sentimental after bottoming so there aren’t many people he does it with.

[dr-futbol-blog]

Duet, Pt. 1

Duet (S01E04) is a pretty interesting episode in many different regards. It's famous of course for including the only explicit m/m kiss in the series (and f/f kiss, for that). The gender-bending gimmick of it all allows them to get away with a lot of things, here. McKay shares his body with a female marine and hijinks ensue. Ronon is getting integrated into life on Atlantis, and Sheppard is bonding with his new bestie. We attend the first date between McKay and Katie Brown with Lt. Cadman and Beckett. We get a rare and brief glimpse into McKay's quarters (now that he's no longer sharing them with anyone). All in all, it's a pretty packed episode.

The episode begins on a random alien planet where a wraith culling has recently taken place. The group of nine Atlanteans seem to be divided into three different teams as they search the environs for survivors, and the way they are split up is somewhat curious.

Sheppard is accompanied by a pair of marines, Teyla is with Major Lorne and a male solider, but then McKay is with Beckett and Lt. Cadman, a female marine we have never seen previously. The split is odd in that McKay and Beckett are both the most vulnerable members on the mission, and Beckett even more so than McKay at this point in time. And what ever Lt. Cadman's qualifications may be, she is a woman and a newcomer to the galaxy, so putting her on McKay and Beckett duty seems odd.

That Sheppard would not trust McKay with Lorne again tracks, but leaving him with such little protection seems odd. They are the three weakest members of the group there, so they should have been split into three different teams, surely. It's possible they had brought Beckett with on the off-chance that they would find survivors, and their intention must have been to keep the chief physician of the expedition safe at all costs. Assuming that Sheppard has been thinking strategically, he must have thought that where he had left the three of them would be relatively safe. It might also be possible that Beckett had chosen to go with his best buddy McKay, and Cadman had wormed her way into this group because she has a crush on Beckett (or so we are later led to believe). It might also hint of the fact that Sheppard and McKay are simply unable and unwilling to spend time in each other's company for any extended period of time right now. Regardless, both McKay and Beckett are assets for the expedition.

There is definitely something going on underneath the surface between Sheppard and McKay in this episode. They are both hurting and even though this is a comedic episode, it is clear as day that they're not fine, together or separately. We see it right at the offset:

Lorne: Well, we're heading back to the gate. Meet you there? Sheppard: Sounds like a plan. McKay, Beckett: you having any luck? Beckett: Negative, Colonel, we haven't found anyone. Sheppard: Make your way back to the gate. Beckett: Will do. Beckett out.

Sheppard contacts McKay's group because he needs to know how they (he) is doing. He mentions McKay's name first and McKay is the one out of the three of them that is a member of his team so it should be McKay that reports to him. But instead, it's Beckett who answers. McKay turns to look behind him at the treeline when they hear Sheppard's voice, presumably to the direction he knows or thinks Sheppard is at. So while Sheppard doesn't see it, McKay acknowledges him, he clearly registers Sheppard's voice. But he does not answer, he gives Sheppard no response. And Sheppard seems to notice this, too. He glances heavenward as Beckett signs off, not having heard from McKay. He presumes McKay is fine based on Beckett's reply, but he does look concerned. He clearly would much rather have heard from McKay. Something seems to be chafing here, between them. He had explicitly hailed McKay and McKay refused to respond.

McKay looks like he's in a really bad mood. About to cry bad mood. His head is bent down as he walks, he's looking at his feet as he ambles forward. Later on, when Sheppard apologizes to him for how things turned out on the planet, McKay tells him "As much as I would like to pretend that this is remotely your fault" which is just, a lot. McKay would like to blame Sheppard. For some reason, McKay looks like his feelings have been really hurt prior to the start of the episode and Sheppard seems to have been the cause of this. We don't know why, we never find out what has happened, but it's definitely something. It's possible that Sheppard had once more pawned him off on someone else's group since that is where we now find him, and it's the choosing of any and everything over him (that he thinks Sheppard is doing) that hurts.

As McKay, Beckett and Cadman traipse through a flowery meadow, they have a real fascinating discussion. Cadman, completely unprompted, starts teasing McKay about his upcoming date:

Cadman: So... maybe you should pick some wildflowers from around here. I think she'd get a kick out of that. McKay: What are you talking about? Cadman: You've got a date tomorrow tonight with Katie Brown, right? She's a botanist, she never gets to go off-world, so...

First of all, McKay had no idea what Cadman was talking about. We find out later that he has cancelled on Katie Brown multiple times. Throughout this episode, we see him try to walk the tightrope of trying to make Cadman understand that he doesn't care about women and not to out himself (and more importantly, Sheppard) at the same time. It's interesting how this episode in which we see McKay kiss a woman (his body does, to be exact) is the one that most obviously tries to establish the character as homosexual. If you come out of this episode thinking that McKay enjoys the company of women, I don't know what to tell you.

It's interesting that McKay's would-be beau a botanist when in the previous episode it was established that McKay has zero respect for Botany as a discipline and for botanists as scientists. Also, we saw a botanist off-world in Major Lorne's team so why Katie Brown would never get the chance to go off-world, we don't know. But it's an interesting choice for McKay... insomuch as he's apparently chosen to turn her down multiple times. But Katie Brown certainly seems to think they have an upcoming date (which, based on pattern of behaviour, McKay was going to cancel). What's real curious is that McKay's best friend seems completely blindsided by this information:

Beckett: What's this now?! McKay: It's nothing, nothing. Beckett: You have a date, Rodney? With a woman? McKay: It is simply two adults sharing some friendly... Yes, with a woman!

Cadman laughs at McKay's indignation as she has it in her head that McKay is simply bad with women, he's inexperienced and does not know how to handle women. But here, McKay's best friend seems most surprised by the fact that he has a date with a woman, not that he has a date. Beckett is confused by hearing that McKay is going out with a woman. He's laughing out loud because it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. A woman?!

Now, McKay is first playing the whole thing down because it seems like he honestly had no intention of ever going out with her. It literally was nothing to him. He says "It's nothing, nothing" like he's telling Beckett to just drop it. In fact, he rubs his hand over his mouth as he says it, a clear tell, because he is lying here. It's not "nothing" so much as it's something he really wants to avoid even thinking about. He looks pained, like having to pretend to be interested in some woman when he's doing all he can to keep himself together for the man who broke his heart, when he can't even bring himself to respond to Sheppard's hail on the radio because he's in so much pain, it's just a bit too much.

But he then suddenly realizes that here Beckett is outing him to a marine, and the last thing Sheppard needs trying to establish his military leadership of the expedition is rumours going around that there are queers in his own damn away-team. McKay himself is paid by the Chiefs of Staff so he also has to personally be careful not to be in open violation of the regulations, but to reiterate, mere suspicion was enough for a dishonorable discharge in the Air Force at this time, and it seems as though Sheppard had received a coveted position that we know at least one other Colonel would liked to have had for himself.

And what ever McKay felt for Sheppard at the current moment, he was loyal enough not to want to cast any aspersions on his character, his military record. The look he gives Beckett as he says "Yes, with a woman!" is bewilderment. It's not bewilderment over Beckett thinking he would date anything but a woman, it's bewilderment that he would say it out loud just like that, in front of her. It's an "ix-nay on the oman-way" kind of a look. He's looking daggers at Beckett, and it sure is not because he thinks his friend thinks he's a virgin who can't drive.

Now, it seems like Beckett knows that McKay is not straight. As his best friend, he really should know. Whether he knows about McKay and Sheppard is more unclear, but he likely knows about McKay and Grodin at least. And because he, as a Scot, doesn't think it's a big deal, he doesn't get just how careful McKay needs to be about this stuff. His entire "simply two adults sharing some..." thing with Katie Brown is very likely a result of the added pressure of Sheppard's promotion, and even then McKay seems to have had real trouble getting himself to go through with it.

Now, the scene is again played out for comedy. Ah, yes. McKay, so effeminate that people think he's gay when really he just fails at being a man (and this is precisely what Cadman is laughing about). But the thing is, Beckett is way more effeminate than McKay is and he seems to like women just fine. It makes no sense for him to start taking barbs at McKay's masculinity like that. And it doesn't seem like a dig at all, it seems like genuine confusion. Why is his gay best friend going out with a woman? What the hell had he missed here? But where Beckett doesn't seem to be making fun of McKay, Cadman, as a female marine that has probably had to construct her own gender-performance in accordance with a male-dominated environment and definitely seems to have adopted some of the homosocial bonding behaviours of the marines where the masculinity of gay men is belittled, well. She is making fun of him for that exact reason.

Cadman: Well, she's excited about it. Not sure why, though. McKay: How would you know? Cadman: Girls' poker night. I know a lot of things, McKay. McKay: I'm sure it's none of your business. This is an inappropriate field conversation.

Now, McKay really does not want to be having this conversation. Cadman seems to misunderstand McKay's first comment which is just telling her to shut up about it. He thinks McKay is asking how she knows Katie Brown is excited about their date, when what he's saying is more like, how would you know what McKay is like on a date? It's none of your business, he'd never date you. But then Cadman says that she knows a lot of things, implying that she knows a lot of things about him in particular. And to McKay, this sounds like a threat. He does have a secret and a marine implying she knows what his secret is is not alright with him. He does his damnedest to make her drop the topic, even referencing regulations. He doesn't know what women talk about during their poker nights but he does know he hasn't had sex with any of them and at least one of them that had been interested in him, Dr. Kusanagi, he seems to have been actively avoiding contact with. There sure is a lot of not hitting on or approaching (or even noticing the existence of) women he has been doing for the past year, and he hopes that hasn't become a topic of poker night conversation.

But Cadman is clueless, clearly just thinking that McKay has a crush on her girlfriend and is just mortified with being put on the spot because he's so inexperienced with women. Cadman herself seems to be sweet on Beckett (at least later, there's precious little evidence for it here in this scene), and is hence interpreting things from the point of view of a woman harbouring romantic notions. As far as she's concerned, McKay's reaction seems way overblown and he's coming across as kind of a dick for no reason. It's all in good fun:

Cadman: What? I was just suggesting that you might wanna pick some flowers... McKay: Yes, and maybe you should just do your job, which is to protect us. Cadman: Shut up. McKay: Shut up? Let me tell you something--

This is the first of two times in the episode where McKay seems to be just on the verge of telling her something, of letting her know just why what she's doing is inappropriate with him in particular, and both times he's cut off before he can come out with it. It is interesting, however, that McKay outright says that her job is protecting him and Beckett. He understands why Sheppard has put her with them. As far as he's concerned, this the only function this beautiful young blonde woman has in his life, is protecting him from the wraith. He has literally spared her no other thought before she started getting on his case.

And they seem to be having two very different conversations here. Cadman is teasing him because her friend has a crush on him, real school yard playground stuff. On the other hand, McKay thinks that she's calling him a sissy for not having gone through with it, like he had failed so hard at playing straight that he should go right ahead and traipse through the meadows picking flowers like the big girl that he is, and he takes offense at this. And he takes further offense when Cadman tells him to shut up because that's basically what Sheppard had told him when they were stuck together in the F-302 just a while ago. She reminds him of the hurt as though there even were moments when he wasn't hurting about this lately.

And yet, this is not the source of his foul mood. Yes, he's clearly irascible, he's much more like "always like this" McKay than he has been in ages. But he was like this, here on this planet, before Cadman had ever opened her mouth. He looks really upset from the start.

But what ever had made him so upset, his day was about to get a whole lot worse.

Continued in Pt. 2

[volivolition]

hi, how are your fic wips? ive been. thinking a lot about them lately lmao. if you dont wanna share any info thats fine feel free to delete this ask bdidndhx

HI ANON!! oH WAHH CRIES???? that means a lot, thank you for thinking of my stories omg?? :'] <33 im ALWAYS happy to share info about my fics, don't worry!! in this one, i'll talk about "Let's Make It (a) Home" and "Swept Up"!!

Preface, here's all my fic wips as explained before!! and all my writing can be found in my #inland drabbles tag! ask 1, ask 3!

Let's Make It (a) Home is a fic about the Hanged Man case, from the perspective of the skills learning to work together again and rebuild a home! current word count is 3042 :]

Swept Up in the Feeling is a character study fic from the perspective of Empathy hanging out with the other skills! current word count is 13116!! :D

RIGHT OFF THE BAT HERE'S A SNIPPET FROM MAKE IT HOME!

oN GOD IF I COULD JUST SHARE THIS ENTIRE SNIPPET?? i won't but IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY HJGKJG so like. skill check failures means that skill is unable to fulfill its duty. if this were, say, a hand/eye coordination check fail, he'd probably drop the sword or like. accidentally stab himself hkjgh BUT volition stands for self-restraint, serious business and acting responsibly, so WHEN HE FAILS THE SKILL CHECK…

god. i love volition. i love swords. it's just volition showing off to his heart's content, HE DESERVES TO BE HAPPY MAN HGKJG. writing the description following this was absolutely delightful, i love how poetic it turned out, THIS WHOLE SCENE IS SO DEAR TO ME..

this fic is probably my favorite out of all my fics, tbh? i love the skills man!! the dynamic of like... "i don't remember a lot of you or a lot of myself, and it's all so distantly familiar, but regardless we all have to work together right now." i think before this they were really dysfunctional, and that persists through the game, and in the fic. they bicker and argue and they don't always get along, but this is a fresh start for all of them and it helps them learn to cooperate better, learning to work as a team!!

the idea that they're also struggling through this, everything harry feels, but trying to keep it together, to work together for their core. in the end, they all want what they think is best for harry, y'know? im really excited to write for the dora dream, y'all know how the skills are in the dream, my GOD. SCREAMS. anyway thats hype hfjhg the whole concept of getting to see the game from the skills perspective, rebuilding, reforming bonds. its really sweet to me.

writing this fic requires replaying all of disco elysium, so i can write it from the skills perspective, which is a BIG ENDEAVOR hgkjg

NOW!! Swept Up in the Feeling, aka EMPATHY MY DARLING. my favorite guy i love him!! kisses his forehead lovingly!! i adoreee this volition chapter, it's a flashback chapter before a MAJOR EVENT happens in the fic and it's just there to showcase my volition and empathy childhood best friend propaganda, theeyyyyy make me so happy i'll cry hgkjg

it's just!! volition was the first skill empathy ever met and attached to!! and empathy was the first skill volition ever met alone, so he feels a sense of responsibility for him hkjg and they're playmates and they take naps and they grow up together and they care about each other.

oughhh i have MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THEM, and so many art wips of them too hgkjg <33 i'll get to it!!! eventually!! hgkjg

otherwise, I LOVE SWEPT UP!! i love skills character studies!! i love these guys as characters in their own right, and not just narrators or extensions of harry's thoughts!! i love exploring them from empathy's point of view, because thats EMPATHY'S WHOLE THING?? HJLKGJ that he'll know how the other skill feels, how they think, and he'll try to understand and empathize!! he's like, the PERFECT character to do character studies from?? i LOVE YOU EMPATHY!!!

every chapter makes me endeared to each skill hgkjg the drama chapter is fuckin cookin man, thats INTERESTING STUFF HKJGG the phys chapter RAUGH. I LOVE YOU COACH YOU'RE REALLY FUNNY AND ALSO I FEEL EMOTIONS ABOUT YOU HKJG i love all of them really, if anyone wants details on a chapter in specific, hit up the ask box bro hgklj i don't have everyone down yet, but even if i don't i'll probably just use it to brainstorm hgkj <33

OKAY THAT'S ALL!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!! i really love chatting about my fics, it just takes a lot to type it all out in words hkjgg i could ramble forever if anyone wanted to listen for that long hkjg ANYWAY THANK YOU CHEFS KISS

[im-goofball]

☀️Hi again☀️ basically what are the gorosei doing in this Au ? 🤔 (I love your Au like always💖)

Jupiter/Shepherd Ju Peter

-the Governor of Fishmen

-is the one who helped Nika and Umi with creating most of All Blue's surface (mountains, deserts, valleys, forests ect.) But he mostly helped because of silly whimsy and placed them where ever and however he felt like it, not caring that 90% of all was just pure chaos which kinda pissed off the two gods.

-his domain lies within the All Blue's Core where he built his fortress/shrine. He lives there only for three months (the whole summer) because he likes spending most of his time with humans and dad.

-also the one responsible for the changing the four seasons, although at the beginning they were in shambles too (Jupiter is NOT a responsible god)

-once Mars got permission to live on All Blue, Jupiter had to end his childish games and take his responsibilities seriously, and so he had to fix it all.

-teaches fishmen how to adapt to many (mostly unpleasant) changes, and how to move on with their lives from terrible tragedies (godly theraphy?)

Mars/Marcus Mars

-the Governor of Shandian & Lunarian races

-is the one responsible for creating the shandian race, and helped Tsumara with creation of Lunarians too

-his domain lies at the Silvercloud the sixth of the Great floating islands of Shandian Queendom, where he had his castle/shrine built. Shandian/Lunarian legends say, that his shrine was made out of the purest silver and had over hundred towers that held the grandest treasures in the world.

-is known as a great general who fought in many of the Great Wars and minor battles (mostly taking charge). Treated the soldiers of Wind's Army, the great armed forces of Shandian Queendom as his own children (Jupiter was jealous). The greater was his anguish the more of them fell in battle. He burried each and every one of them on the Isle of Thousand Bells, where he shed uncountable tears. (That's how rain was created but shhh)

-teaches Shandians and Lunarians the importance of (self)sacrifice, duty, honor and mercy for the one worthy of it.

-also the only Elder Planet with wings

Saturn/Jay Garcia Saturn

-the (self-proclaimed) Governor of Human race

-creator of galaxies, nebulae, costellations, black holes, and worm holes (Jupiter was not amused). Also responsible for creating gravity, on All Blue

-the only god to have no domain on All Blue, as he spends most of the time out in the space creating and experimenting with his powers. His domain is a grand palace/library that holds all knowledge throughout the eons of the Universe's existence

-favoures humans above all races, as they kinda reminded him of himself (narcissistic little bastard). Gave them all of his knowledge and taught them everything about stars and galaxies

-lacks "mortal" morality and doesn't understand empathy (which resulted in his Ultimate Experiment) and near annihilation of giants.

-also the only Elder planet with a "halo"

Venus/Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro

-the original Governor of Human Race, (fuck you Saturn)

-his domain/shrine lies within the Moon's End (later known as Wano) where he lived as one of Tsumara's guardians

-lately became the Governor of Giants, but only in name, as Nika was already handling that (they were Nika's favourites)

-teaches humans and giants the meaning of love, (In Greek mythology there were seven kinds of love, and I am too lazy to list them but yeah.) empathy, compassion, kindness and passion.

-uses his sword only in dire or extreme cases of self defence and for executions that Mercury demanded as neccessary

-the one who found out about Saturn's Ultimate Experiment and told Nika, resulting in Saturn's Fall. (Saturn never forgave him for that)

Mercury/Topman Warcury

-the only Elder Planet that isn't a Governor of a race, as his responsibility is to proclaim judgement and Nika's will on everyone, regardless of race (Can't play favourites, how sad)

-he lives with Nika in the Holy land (something akin to Heaven but not really) and only rarely comes down into All Blue

-tries his best to keep the Elder planets from murdering one another (mostly Mars and Saturn), and also to make sure none of them cross the Line. What is the Line? He had no idea, but he's sure Nika does... he hopes

-teaches the mortal kind how to recognize evil from good and to uphold justice within their communities

-he may not be really fond of the mortals, but he must admit that their alcohol is sublime

-also the only planet that is allowed to talk to Nika 24/7

[ronqueesha]

I was going through the 50 Rook questions meme by @spookyvalentine, and I spotted some I wanted to answer for myself.

12. Does Rook have any family? Do they keep in touch?

Nerio's entire family is alive and well in the small farming village they grew up in, close to the Rivaini border. Both parents, an older sibling, and even some aunts and uncles.

However, Nerio will never willingly contact them again, barring some extreme emergency. They may as well be dead to each other.

Nerio's parents refuse to acknowledge them as anything other than their son Ayden, and the rest of Nerio's family is disappointed that they refused the responsibilities and duties that came with being part of their community. The fact that Nerio joined a group of notorious "treasure hunters" and has often been wanted by the law of several kingdoms only deepens the divide.

21. What does Rook’s voice sound like? One of the voice options available, or do they have a different accent/voicecast?

Nerio's voice is "feminine 2", the option voiced by Erika Ishii. With the "lower pitch" option. Nerio doesn't sound particularly feminine or masculine, Erika's lower pitch is perfect for that middle ground I was going for with their visual design.

29. How does Rook begin their day?

Nerio spends entirely too much coin on their appearance. Expensive imported face cleansers, makeup popularized by Orlesian nobility, even magically altered products to increase the health and volume of their hair. (the last one is a bit more practical considering how they feel about their misshapen right ear and their attempts to conceal it)

Most of these habits were gained during their time with the Lords of Fortune. After leaving their home, Nerio had the opportunity to make themselves over however they wanted, and they had access to plenty of plunder and gold to cover the costs. This obsession quickly spiraled out of control.

It can take them AGES to get ready in the morning, especially if they are scheduled to meet someone important later in the day. Even while camping in the middle of nowhere, it can take Nerio an unacceptable amount of time to get themselves ready for a long hike.

38. Did Rook have any relationships before Veilguard?

Nothing serious. Before they left their home village, young Nerio was under the impression that their love life was going to be entirely dictated by the whim of their parents and the elders of their city elven community. Nerio would have no choice but to marry an elf woman of their parents' choosing, and spend the rest of their life with her regardless of how their relationship worked out.

It wasn't until after joining the Lords of Fortune that Nerio had the freedom to choose who they wished to be with. They found their appetites freely moved between people of all kinds, genders, and types. They had many flings, one night stands, friends with benefits, etc. But no long-term commitments.

[pbeltarts]

Hey... It's weird rlly, but i'm caught in the in-between of I don't discriminate gays and I have to obey religion... HELP?

I can't really be a religious guide on something like that when I'm not part of any religion myself. But,

I think there needs to be an understanding divide between 'duty-bound by belief' and human decency. Regardless of if ancient texts state it, a politician or government leader, or someone of authority- we are at the end of the day, the maker of our choices. Our belief is as strong as the person believing and to me, is a guidebook for how we frame our own lives. IDK what religion you're having to obey, but my first question is: why do you have to obey it?

There's this strange consensus amongst religious groups that the religious text shouldn't be questioned or countered by any means. But these are just words written down by other infallible humans, and you can't speak directly to the god or gods they came from. Its already been proven throughout history how these religious texts and teachings can change throughout the years, being manipulated to serve the needs of a group or party in power. Why do their human interpretations take precedence over your own understanding of the religion?

If you know and believe that gay people are just as equal to you as any other person, despite whatever teachings you follow says, then believe in your own human decency first. If something says to do harm to another person, who just the same has a beating heart, a family, and a life as you do, why would that teaching be considered 'right'?

At the end of the day, as I understand, most of these teachings tell you to impart your religious wisdom to these people but it is ultimately up to them to live their lives how they choose. Their salvation isn't your responsibility.

To live our lives how we want, even if in the end its the 'wrong' way, means we at least lived. That isn't anyone's job to ordain or monitor. You don't get brownie points with god because you exclude or are rude to a gay person.

And in my opinion, God would never want you to do that in the first place.

Gods seem to come in two forms: fear them or love them. Not both. Because you can't really love something that strikes fear into you, not truly.

If God loves his creatures, all of them, despite whatever failings they have, then he wouldn't want them to hurt each other the ways many of us do. If Jesus, assuming we're talking Christianity which we may not be (but I grew up in baptized belt, so its my main frame of reference), died for our sins then does that not mean we are absolved of our sins? That his sacrifice was to save us everlasting, and by constantly attacking others for their 'sins' is pointless because they've been saved regardless.

IDK if any of that rambling can be helpful. Hopefully it gives you something to at least think about.

[rgr-pop]

we had literally just had a user services meeting where my supervisor said the library decided not to put any high time sensitive stacks project on the agenda for the summer. she was like please use your vacation time!

the next monday at 3pm our director read our meeting notes, became mad, and decided unilaterally to assign us (just me and my supervisor plus my students if i have them) to shift the whole general collection by august starting now. more or less out or nowhere (i spent last summer and fall outliningwhat we’d need to do and getting trained up while i was creating a whole oversize collection from scratch but was told up til a few weeks ago that it wouldn’t go on the calendar—primarily because we don’t have the staff.)

we asked for the plan and he said “shifting ldoesn’t need a plan. just move the books. distribute the evenly across the shelves with each shelf at 60-75% fill capacity.” (WHICH and okay math?)

please if you’ve ever planned or participated in a collection shift chime in. not sure i can possibly explain how deranged this is

fun fact TS isn’t sure how many volumes are in our collection due to not being inventoried in about a decade. the director didn’t have a sense within 10,000 of how many books he was asking us to move even if a shift was just moving books from one location to another (it’s not). we were gonna focus on missing and inventory over the summer (fun fact we have a missing list about SEVEN PERCENT OF THE COLLECTION!!!) it’s good practice to always measure the materials on the shelf for a shift but it’s essential when you don’t have a well maintained collection— the other way we would make the estimation of how to distribute a collection evenly would be to use a formula estimating volumes per linear inch in various collection types. but again we have a 7% missing collection lmao

so over the past two and a half workdays i’ve been working a 10 page project plan all by myself — planning stacks projects is not my job. i’m still a clerk with some extra technical duties on paper. i make about 24k in a year working part time. the people doing this task at msu make 2-3 times what i make. there are two administrators above me, one who is lying about the work itself and being insane (also the worst at his job or anyone alive), the other doesn’t know how to do any of this. and she’s dedicated herself to getting caught up and this makes me feel a million times better but in theory on principle i should not do this (he will make me “move the books” regardless sooo)

we have this thing in my unit called responsibility dollars you can apply for to get a small bonus for a project outside your job description. if i was full time i would be eligible for an extra $3.25 or so, but as part time i can only get $1.20. so onward requesting my $33 per week summer stipend.. my director might block admin from approving it because he doesn’t believe a plan is required. i should just move the books! (google how to plan a library shift if you’re interested in my work)

anyway the problem is that i really enjoy doing this and would love to do a good job at it. it’s not happening in august lol be real. what rows this man want us speed shelving for. TO WHAT END?? WHY?? i will see this through and start applying to archives jobs—the real core of the “thrown into the most chaotic situation imaginable and plan a lil system” field—it’s what i’m good at and i’m putting this stupid shit in my portfolio. all i actually want is to not have my work openly disrespected by a man who wants the library to literally crumble because he hates queer people so much ! he still by the way refuses to speak directly to me or read anything i produce 🤷‍♀️

my supervisor texted me this morning at 11 am asking me if i was at work (i was in the staff kitchen and didn’t see it til hours later bc i was AT WORK not ON MY PHONE and she didn’t use work communication) so now i’m paranoid that they’re watching my time, which is insane bc i’m so much more productive… he tried this last year too around the incident. challenged some hours i worked out of nowhere and said he didn’t remember me being here and i was like ok there’s nothing i can do to demonstrate that?? so i had to take hours i worked off my timecard. to my knowledge no one else but me is required to do time tracking or has had their time challenged —only Me who accused him of homophobic retaliation and got disciplined for it and can now get fired for any reaaaason :’) so anyway i worked til 11 pm monday and i will be here til 8 every night the rest of the week due to paranoia