#and it's bad!!! i know it is!!!!! but i can't fucking stop doing it!!!!!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Demon Children Are Multiplying

This idea is still stuck in my head, and I might even end up writing something out of it, but for now, I just thought of something equally really, really stupid and really, really funny.

What if I combine that idea with Al Ghul Twins. I don't know how. Maybe Talia was cautious about Ra's not wanting to keep two kids for a position of Heir, or maybe she staged Danny's death, or maybe something else entirely happened. But anyway, Danny is Damian's twin.

Then, Dani is the same age as Danny in this AU. And Dan is de-aged to be the same age as both of them.

Now behold an absolute train wreck of a situation where Bruce attends a Gala hosted by Vladimir Masters. Together with Damian, of course, and maybe other batkids are there too. They all part their ways to make their rounds or whatnot. And they all keep seeing Damian wherever they go. Just everywhere.

Dick is talking to someone, and Damian walks past him, not paying him any attention. Which is not surprising, but a little rude, and, wait, wasn't he wearing a red tie? When did he change it to green one?

Tim is just going on the top floor to greet a lady he recognizes from some other event, and Damian all but storms in the opposite direction, only letting Tim catch a glimpse of his face. But when Tim turns around, he is really confused: the person running down the stairs is clearly a girl, albeit she is wearing a suit. Her long hair is up in a complicated braid. Why did he even mistake her for Damian?

But the ultimate confusion happens when Bruce is talking to Vladimir Masters, and a very familiar voice calls, "Father". Because both he and Vladimir turn to face the boy and ask, "Yes?" at the same time.

Damian is standing there, looking between Bruce and Vlad. He looks a little off somehow, but before Bruce can figure out why, the boy blinks and focuses on Vlad.

"We've been looking for you," he tells the man, and, wait, when was Damian looking for Masters? Furthermore, who is we?

But then another child comes closer. And-

That's Damian.

That's two Damians.

Wait, no, none of them are Damians.

"What is it?" Vladimir raises an eyebrow, not paying too much attention to Bruce's blanched expression.

A third child comes towards them, and this one also looks like Damian, only this one is a girl.

"Template's duplicate is here," she says, and Vlad frowns, turning to the Damian lookalike in the middle.

"Have you had another incident that I don't know of?"

Whatever answer the boy wanted to give is cut off by a n o t h e r child who looks like- no, this is real Damian, thank God, Bruce had started to wonder if the champagne was spiked with hallucinogens.

"Father-" he stops in his tracks as the three other children turn to him, and the four of them just stare at each other for a long moment. Then the one in the middle takes a sharp breath in and stage-whispers:

"Quick, do the meme!"

And all three not-Damians start pointing at each other.

Bruce is going to have an aneurysm. Judging by Vladimir's face, he is also not far from one.

Just my ramblings under the cut

I think you all know what meme I'm talking about, but I'm still gonna add it

This is so fucking hilarious to me, I'm sorry, I just can't

Danny is not missing this opportunity of a lifetime, even though Vlad specifically asked all three of them not to cause a scene. And yes, they all call Vlad "father" just for the spite of it or for shits and giggles. I'm going with Bad Fentons idea here, although I'm not sure to which degree they are bad, but anyway, Vlad is their legal guardian, and he is redeemed.

Yes, Dick took a picture. Yes, it's already in the group chat. Yes, other batkids are going wild.

Damian is greatly confused because, first, he thought there was a clone of him at the gala, but apparently, there were three of them, and second, why are they pointing at each other? Should he join them? He is under the assumption his brother is dead (he's not exactly wrong on that account), or he doesn't even know he existed.

This is as far as I got now, feel free to add anything!

[murdrdocs]

implied stepcest; bsfs sister trope; sort of same universe as this MDNI 18+ w/ ART DONALDSON & PATRICK ZWEIG

patrick wants to fuck you.

it's not even a secret at this point. he's practically shouting it from the rooftops, but even then everyone would have already known. anytime he's over at art's—which is more often now that you're officially moved in—patrick finds any possibly excuse to be around you. any excuse so that he can let is eyes shamelessly rake across your body.

he's brazen and lewd about it. his tongue licking over his lips and his eyes squinting as he stands in art's backyard, a beer in one hand and the other tucked in the pocket of his khaki shorts. he's watching you. just watching. and art stands there beside him all the while, watching his best friend watch you, his stepsister.

patrick continues to remind art of your relation over and over again.

anytime art chastises patrick for his behavior, a pointed, "stop eye fucking my sister," patrick is quick to correct him.

"stepsister."

and then patrick does what he does best: he instigates.

he might not realize it in the beginning, but he picks up on it eventually. he picks up on the look that art sends your way, on the way art defends you—too stern to be the defense of a brother, bordering more on the defense tactics of a lover.

patrick doesn't know if something has happened between you and art or not, but even if something has happened, patrick wants in.

"look, if you don't hit that i will."

art looks at patrick as if he's fucking stupid.

"you do know we're technically related right?"

and patrick just scoffs. "your dad just got married like two months ago. he's still in the honeymoon phase. so you're not technically related."

patrick takes a second. he licks his lips, glances at you from across the yard, watching the way the wind blows the hem of your dress against your ass.

"maybe we can do it together, huh? you think she'll go for that."

art pushes patrick's shoulder, rolling his eyes when his best friend laughs like what he said was funny and not degrading. but art can't stop thinking about it.

he can't stop thinking about the feeling of your cunt clenching around his fingers. he can't stop imagining the same sensation around his dick. as if thinking about fucking his father's new stepdaughter wasn't bad enough, art feels his dick start to harden when he thinks about doing it with patrick.

he's heard enough of patrick's lewd sex stories to be able to paint an image of his own. patrick spitting on your cunt before he slides in. patrick fondling your tits and kissing you stupid. patrick multitasking—something he's always been fairly good at—and fiddling with your clit while he rubs his thumb over art's weeping slit.

it's all far too much to think about, especially when he's in the backyard of his father's house, supposedly celebrating independence day. he invited patrick here in hopes that his best friend would help him get his mind off of you, but alas, you is all patrick wants to talk about.

you start walking their way, a gentle smile on your lips and a glint in your eyes like you're gearing up to tell them both a story. art straightens his spine, his stance getting impossibly tighter when patrick leans over and whispers in his ear.

"just think about it, okay? she's more likely to say no to me than to you."

[salsakiyoomi]

Hmm, how would drummer Sukuna react to finding out reader had sex with someone else?

a/n : this idea has been nagging me for a while and this is my excuse to write it now

sukuna's heart almost stops.

it almost stops as he watches you walk out one of the most famous fuckboy's dorm, in your clothes yes, but looking disheveled, with hair that's definitely been tugged on and hickeys covering your neck, and a manly cologne that was most definitely neither his or yours. 

what was the meaning of this? why did he have to be here at this exact moment to see you like that?

your eyes catch his and you're wondering whether you should talk to him or not.

probably not.

so you clear your throat and you turn the other way, as if he wasn't standing right in front of you.

he’s shocked, because how could you?

“y/n.” he calls out, his voice stern but you don't acknowledge him, he doesn't know what's up with you this time, whether you're mad at him or the other dude has gotten to you.

all he knows is that he doesn't like you ignoring him and he's not sure why.

he shouldn’t care.

sukuna trudge over to you, grabbing your arm and forcing you to look at him, “i called for you.” he tells you, a scowl on his face — why were you avoiding him like that? he hasn't fucked up that bad yet — i mean, sure, the both of you haven't been hanging out much and it was a month since you last had sex but still.

“what do you want?” you ask, you still won't meet his eyes, avoiding them like they're the plague — but most of all, you seem nonchalant, too nonchalant.

“what's the meaning of this?” he asks and he can't tear away his eyes from the hickeys adorning your neck and probably other places as well — only he can leave those marks on you, nobody else.

it doesn't sit well with him that somebody else, especially a fucking fuckboy who practically lives in the frat house, having his hands all over you in that way, his lips on yours, on your skin, his body against your and —

sukuna doesn't want to think about it.

you scoff, rolling your eyes, and you tear your arm away from his grip, crossing your arms, “the meaning of what, ryomen?”

“the meaning of this.” he almost seethes, gesturing to the marks on you, “what's this about?” 

“what, like you care?” you say, and this time, you meet his gaze, and he’s not sure if he likes the defiant look in your eyes.

does he care? of course he does. otherwise he wouldn't have been fucking you for this long.

“of course i do.” he huffs, but it comes out quiet and almost meek.

of course he cares about you — he doesn't like you sleeping around with other people, you were supposed to be his.

“well, you shouldn't,” you tell him, the frown on your face prominent, “we're not exclusive after all, are we?”

fuck. 

he knew that that would come back to bite him in the ass, and now was the time.

it's true, in the past year the two of you have been sleeping around, sukuna has made it painfully clear that this was nothing more than just sex and having fun for the sake of it — you've nagged him about it more than once, you didn't like him sleeping with other girls either but it's not like he ever stopped.

sukuna didn't do love, never has, and never will.

but now, your words really hurt him.

at his stretched silence you sigh, turning away from him, “later, ryomen.” you call out as you walk away from him.

and he's left all alone in the hallway with a heavy heart.

jealousy wasn't a thing he's ever felt before, and it didn't sit well with sukuna.

[reyadawn]

Killing Me Slowly

*image not mine, credit goes to owner*

Summary: Reader has grown up with Noah Sebastian. Been through thick and thin, good days and bad, triumphs and losses, love and heartbreak and the full succession of Bad Omens. During that time, she fell in love with Noah. What comes later will have her experiencing her own bout of heartbreak...but will she survive?

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x reader, Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x reader (platonic)

Warnings: 🔞+, Language, Kissing, Angst

Word Count: 🤷‍♀️

Side Note: Based off a dream I had last night and needed to get it off my chest so do not come at me for this...! Apologies for this being so long.

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It was cold. The kind of cold that sunk deep into your bones. The chill November air stung my cheeks as I tried and failed to burry myself deeper into my jacket, or should I say Noah's jacket, and scarf. I had lost track of how long I had been walking through the park and I hardly took note of the reddish-brown leaves drifting softly across the grass.

Bzzzz! Bzzzz!

I sighed heavily before stopping to rummage around through the jacket pocket for my phone. I rolled my eyes as Noah's face flashed before me - an image of his Twitch days in cat-ear headphones.

"Hey--", I started to answer but was harshly cut off by Noah's obvious irritated voice.

"Get your fucking ass back home before you get sick. Do you even know what time it is?!", he all but shouted. I rolled my eyes again, glancing at the time on my phone. 9:46 PM.

"You're not my father, Noah, so stop acting like it. I'm fucking grown, in case you haven't noticed", I replied, turning back towards the direction of the house.

"Oh, I've noticed. Just get back here", he said sharply before hanging up.

"Asshat", I mumbled, stuffing my phone back in my pocket.

Upon returning to the house about a quarter after ten, all hell broke loose. I had just finished tossing my keys into the basket on the cradenza and was in the process of hanging my jacket when a set of long, tattooed fingers grabbed my wrist, spinning me around.

"Noah, what-", I started but my words were cut off when I was pushed back against the wall, long muscular arms engulfed in tattoos caging me in.

"You ever leave the house again and not tell anyone, it'll be your ass", Noah hissed, his long hair creating a curtain around his face as his dark eyes glittered angrily. I shoved him off me as hard as I could. By now, the rest of the guys had gathered in the living room to witness the commotion.

"Get off me you overgrown Beowolf!", I yelled back. "You don't own me, Sebastian!".

"The fuck I don't! We all do! You're ours to protect! We can't do that if you don't tell anyone where you're going!", Noah shouted, causing me to flinch. I stared up at him. I could feel his anger and concern but that's not all I wanted to feel. I sighed, my body relaxing from the rigid state it was in. I didn't dare look at the others. Defeated, I simply nodded and walked past Noah, heading towards the stairs.

Once inside the dark confines of my room, I quietly shut and locked the door. I stood in the center of the room, arms wrapped around my middle to seek comfort I wouldn't get. Glancing around, my eyes fell on framed photos of me with the guys over the years. Of course, I had more of Noah and I because we had known each other since grade school. Picture after picture: the beach, hiking, making holiday decorations, gaming, concerts they played in the past to recent. My eyes suddenly fell on a framed one of Noah and I where I stood in front of him and he was crouched over with his head on my shoulder and we were smiling into the camera.

Realization had my knees buckling, sending my body to the floor on all fours. No. It can't be. How did I miss it when I'm the one who feels it? How stupid could I be?

A knock at my door had me scrambling to my feet to unlock it and throw it open. Noah stood there, hand raised in a 'knocking' motion. Before I even had time time to process my own actions, I reached up to grab his face in my hands and pulled his lips down to mine. Noah's body grew stiff before he pulled away from me, hands out in front of him.

I frowned up at him in confusion. Noah stared at me wide eyed before taking a full step back and running his hands through his hair.

"I can't do this...I can't have this with you. It'll ruin everything...I'm sorry", he said softly before turning back down the hallway to his room. Confusion, hurt, disbelief and anger swirled within me. I didn't know it then but Noah was already in love with someone else...

3 Months Later...

Snow blanketed the streets, covered benches and street lamps as it fell sofly from darkened skies. Once again, I was walking late at night but this time I had a tail as I glanced over my shoulder to see Jolly following me in his car.

I turned back around, heading for the park when suddenly Jolly called out to me.

"Wait, karaste", he said, standing on the sidewalk dressed in just jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Always amazed me how he never got cold in the winter here in the U.S. Damn Sweedens. I stopped, studying him momentarily before turning back around again.

"Stop", Jolly said more firmly. I turned to him again. "Please, don't go to the park. Walk somewhere else". I regarded him carefully before it donned on me why he was trying to stop me. Despite the snow, I turned and took off in a run. I could hear Jolly behind me, snow crunching under his boots. The gazeebo was within eyesight. There were two figures sitting on the wooden steps and I halted behind a nearby tree. Noah was one of them. Dressed in a simple black Bad Omens hoodie, black skinny jeans and tennis shoes with one hand in his pocket. His other hand reached for the person sitting next to him. A woman. I couldn't see her face but her hair was a beautiful auburn and was loosely curled. Her small body encased in a hunter green coat, hood lined in faux fur. Her slim legs were encased in black leggings and snow boots. Noah smiled at her befoe pulling a black box from his pocket and opening it.

I brought a hand up over my mouth, my world turning blurry but not before Noah pulled the woman into a heated kiss. The kind of kiss you see in Romantic movies or read about in Romance novels. I couldnt breathe, my body trembling so hard I was afraid I would shatter. My heart sunk into my stomach, finger tips tingling as I sank to the ground. I doubled over, clutching my arms around my stomach as the tears flowed hot down my cheeks.

I wanted to scream; to kick something, punch something. I pressed my nails into my palms behind closed fists, hoping the pain would wake me from this nightmare. No help came. No savior to speak of. I felt as though my chest had been ripped open, heart pulled from my body.

The feeling of arms wrapping themselves around me to haul me to my feet felt distant. Like I was floating. I stared at my feet as they sunk into the snow in step next to Jolly's. Just going through the motions. Half way to Jolly's car, I could hear Noah call my name in the distance behind me. Not daring to look back, I willed my body to run the rest of the way to Jolly's car and threw myself into the front seat. Jolly joined me only seconds later before driving off. Out of the side mirror, I could see Noah stepping into street, hands in his hair before turning to his fiancè.

I leand over the center console to lay my head on Jolly's shoulder, wrapping both arms around his right arm as his hand rested on my thigh to give it a gentle squueze. Sobbs shook my body, the cries that escaped sounding like a gutted animal. I had never experienced this kind of pain. My stomach was in knots, muscles cramping from the force of the gutteral sobbing that I could not control. Go figure, the first man I fall in love with is in love with someone else.

Jolly spoke soft words of comfort in Sweedish, for all the good it did him. Nothing could stop the pain. I finally turned to look up at him through my tears.

"Why Jolly? What did I do wrong? Why wasn't it me? Why am I not good enough for him?", I asked, voice hoarse. I couldn't understand. I had been with Noah all my life. Been through everything with him. All of the up's and down's life brings including the success of Bad Omens and I never left. Never faltered in my loyalty to him or to Jolly, Nick, and Nicholas. Even Matt and Bryan.

I made Jolly drop me off at a hotel instead of the house, much to his disagreement. Giving me his car charger for my phone, I gave him the spare room key, just in case. He pulled me into his arms tightly and my eyes welled up again but I detached myself from him before the tears could fall.

"I'm a big girl, Jolly. I'll be ok. Shower and sleep. I need to clear my head...call my parents", I said trying to reassure him. Jolly scowled.

"In Virginia? No. You can't. You can't leave, karaste", he said firmly, arms crossing in front of his chest.

"I don't belong here anymore, Jolly...I'm not sure I ever did", I replied. "I'll let you know if I leave town".

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Jolly reluctantly returned home, heart weighing heavy. He wanted to help her but didn't know how.

Entering the house he met Noah, his fiancè, Nick and Nicholas in the living room. Noah ran over to him, long hair wild about his shouldsrs.

"Jolly? Where is she?", Noah asked, looking over Jolly's shoulder. Jolly could only shake his head.

"Tell me, now! Where. Is. She?", Noah asked again through clenched teeth.

"I can't tell you, man. Right now, she doesn't want to be found", Jolly replied. Noah carded his fingers through his hair and let out a gutteral scream, fisting the long strands to the point his scalp hurt. His fiancè ran over to console him but he all but shoved her away.

"We'll find her, Noah", Nick said, placing a hand on his friends' shoulder.

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I sat on the floor of the shower, arms wrapped around my legs, head resting on my knees as the hot water pummeled my skin, tears mixing in.

My heart beat in a body that felt numb, cold, unfeeling. Noah and the rest of the guys were my family. Had been for years. They took me in, gave me a home. Made me feel like I mattered. Gave my life meaning. With them...with Noah...I always felt like I belonged. Now I didnt belong anywhere.

The realization that I had nothing left was killing me but it was killing me slowly...

@concreteemo @concreteangel92 @bluestdai @exitwoundsx @english-fucker @amourtoken @alloraiona @lilhobgobbler @bloodylullaby @lolitasangel @lovexsleepyhead @livingdeceasedgirl @darling-millicent-aubrey @doomhands-jr @flowery-mess @thatchickwiththecamera @thefallennightmare

[moodymisty]

*awkward cough*

Mother, I crave luna wolves smut.

(this is my first time sending someone a request *internal panic* so bare with me)

(I'm thinking about the luna wolves bullying a surf fic that you did and now have brainrot.)

Like, imagine being my height (5'1) and having a big "mean" astartes fully aware that I'm sooo horny I'm loosing my mind.

And something about space marines that I can't stop thinking about is how they smell. Like the amount of testosterone.. Their sent has to be immensely horny inducing for a female.

Like- damn. Gigantic, absolutely shredded, smug ass smile and, teasing comments, absolute bastard of a super human. Asking you to do stuff that requires a lot more physical closeness than normal. Getting absolutely wrecked by the astartes smell(TM).

Eventually deciding to "help each other out" hot and heavy Make outs, grinding, humping, neck kisses and neck bites, the absolute WETness, SERIOUS man handling..

Jeez sorry I'm so down bad. Feel free to ignore me lol.

Big fan of your writing, hope you're doing well.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: i am unhinged. Decided to make an actual Luna wolf oc for this one just cause. This idea is my fucking jam but for some reason I had a lot of trouble with this one, I think it's just because I'm getting a bit burnt out finishing the last of the requests. I hope you still enjoy.

Relationships: Artyom(Luna Wolf OC)/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mild NSFW, Grinding, Groping, Some mild manhandling

“Careful.”

The Thunderhawk shakes as the air cools during its ascent, and Artyom puts a hand on your shoulder to steady you in your seat. You don’t have any risk for falling over, but he still does it anyways. You look up at him and give him a small nod in thanks.

The other refugees however are largely fending for themselves, grouped close together and muttering amongst themselves.

You don’t mind not being part of it. You barely know any of them; And throughout this entire ordeal, you've found yourself growing closer to Artyom than any of them. He doesn’t seem to mind, and if anything, seems to find it amusing. During the few times you’d see him wander through the base he’d always make a point to call you out, say hello before returning to his duties.

The other refugees found it odd. While Astartes are respected and admired, being in their attention isn’t seen as the most positive. They are mercurial and unpredictable on the best of days, intimating masses of muscle that can kill with ease; And enjoy doing so.

Artyom is an oddity among the Luna Wolves, to enjoy poking at a human. Even if it's only one, and he regains his stoic, almost sleepy expression when barking orders at any of the others.

Once the Thunderhawk docks into the landing bay of the battlebarge, everyone makes their way off. The Astartes leave silently other than an apothecary who ushers the refugees along to where they’ll stay before being placed. More than likely the first Imperium port they come across, where they'll become the Imperium Guard's logistical problem.

You move to follow along with them, assuming that will be your place, but Artyom grabs you before you have the chance. His hand claps your shoulder, nearly painfully heavy from the size and weight of his gauntlet.

“Come with me instead.”

You look up at him before following closely, halls rapidly becoming filled with only Astartes. They all look curiously at you, as if wondering what a baseline human is doing in this area. Clearly they're not used to them being here. You continue following Artyom anyways however and try to ignore the questioning gazes, until he pulls you inside a room filled with armoring equipment.

“Here. Hold this while I remove my armor.” He hands you his knife, while his bolter and rifle go on a rack made specifically for them. The knife clearly has more sentimental value, you assume.

“Why did you have me follow you?”

You say, holding the knife tight as machines slowly peel away plate after plate of ceramite. It's such an odd thing to see, watching him go slowly from a near machine in massive armor to something you would consider more human; Even if still very different.

“Those refugees are going into the serfs quarters until we pass by a human settled world. It will be a tight fit.”

The material of his black skinsuit is revealed bit by bit, until no armor remains. Your hands tighten around the handle of the large knife. The suit leaves nothing to the imagination as the name implies, stretching over his entire body other than his upper neck and face, and interface ports.

“So I won’t stay down there? Where will I sleep then?” You feel disrespectful for asking, you should be thankful his legion even bother to saved you. Artyom however seems to find no intentional disrespect, or at least doesn't point any out.

“You can stay in my quarters. Unless you would prefer the serfs.”

Slowly he starts to peel away his black skinsuit, revealing bare skin. The farther down it peels away- neck, collar bone, chest, hips- the farther down it drops the more you force your eyes to remain at strictly shoulder height and higher.

Once everything is removed, he pushes his shoulder blades together and they let out a crack, flexing his shoulders and chest. You swallow a knot in your throat, the knife being strangled in your hands.

“Hmm?”

Artyom hums, grabbing one of the sets of trousers and pulling them on. You shake your head and try to dispel thoughts you are sure would get you into an unspeakable amount of trouble away.

“Oh, nothing. I'm sorry.”

Now dressed you can worry less about your eyes wandering to places they shouldn't, but not completely; the waistline of his trousers exposing a good portion of his hips and lower stomach. You hope he didn't catch the way your eyes lingered on the v of his hips for a bit longer than they should have.

He walks closer, closer enough that you have to take a step back. He gives his neck a crack, and for a moment you wonder if the armor is that intensive on them; In it they never seem to mind, almost as if it's a second skin.

“Are you sure? Your heart is loud.”

He can hear it? You're throat tightens; You wonder what else he can hear. Can he hear your ragged breathing? The way your blood is thumping in your ears and downward between your legs.

“Oh, I just… A lot has happened. It's a lot to think about.” Artyom gives a gentle, sleepy smirk, and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Do not worry. You are safe with me.”

Perhaps from physical dangers; but your mind is now a battleground between common sense and base instinct.

The way his shoulders make your body seem so frail, towering over you. The way his muscles stretch across his neck, his collarbone, the smooth taughtness of his stomach drifting into the v of his hips.

And perhaps he may not smell the nicest in first impression, there’s something underneath it that is oddly, not terrible. You find yourself swallowing a large knot in your throat as he looks down at you, his smirk shifting the taught skin of his facial scars. You skin feel like it's on fire, like you're boiling from the outside in, and you swear you've never felt this aroused in your entire life. The way you feel like your cunt has an actual heartbeat.

"You must still be quite unsettled, if your heart is still racing."

He steps closer, putting a hand on your shoulder; Though it's large enough that it pushes against the crook of your neck. He squeezes it just a bit, and you try to resist letting out an audible hitch in your breath.

"I'm fine, really. I thank you for your concern, though. It means a lot coming from you."

You feel like you're beginning to sweat, and your lower body feels tight and hot. You squeeze your thighs together subtly and instantly you can tell you're getting wet.

Artyom takes a step closer, and you didn't realize how close you were to the wall until your back presses against it and you're near entirely consumed in shadow. The armoring room is quite small, you can only assume because the battlebarge lacks the size of their larger ships.

"You are not a good liar," He says, his smile changing form. "I can smell you."

His hand moves from your shoulder to around your waist, easily able to cover a significant portion with how large it is.

"It took me a bit, to realize what that smell was whenever you were around me."

You don't suppose that's surprising; Being an astartes is surely a secluded fate, without much room for fraternizing. And the smell of someone being so aroused is probably unique and quite subtle, not an easily explainable thing.

He pulls your body forcing you to arch your back towards him, shoulders still against the wall. Your hands press against his body, and you can feel the overwhelming stuffy heat of his skin. He's nearly naked with only his trousers, yet he still feels like he has the body heat of a man who's just run for miles and miles.

His other hand also wraps around your waist, and you feel his fingers pushing up against the bottom of your chest.

It's bit awkward for him to lean down closer to you with his size, but it's easier when he forces his knee between your legs, rising you to your tiptoes. The feeling sends jolts of sensation right up your spine, and your cunt throbs. It's a intentional, painful act to not grind yourself against his thigh like you were desperate, no matter how in reality it was true.

"You're so small," He jokes, shadowing you. "Do you think you could even help me remove and put on my armor with those little hands of yours?"

His lips ghost over yours, the bow of his lip brushing against yours as he teases you. You can't help the way your hips twitch forward slightly, ever so subtly grinding against him as he moves in to kiss you. During so, his hands slide down from your waist to your hips, and forces you to push down on his thigh harder, as well as raising his knee up against the wall just a bit more to force your weight even more on him. His leg is still barely bent however; He could easily take your feet all the way off the ground if he wanted.

His hands grip your hips tightly and force you to grind against his thigh, causing you to moan and whimper. Your hands grip his own body weakly, leaning forward into him and pressing your face into his collarbone. You can feel the heat and hardness of his cock against your leg, and your cunt keeps tensing around a disappointing emptiness at the thought.

You want it so unbelievably bad. You would do just about anything for it. You don't care who hears or who sees, you just want him inside of you and you'll be more than willing to beg and plead and cry for it.

His lips pull away from yours, lips swollen and well kissed. You feel your spit mixed with your own against them.

"Be my personal serf. It'll be a far better life than whatever a refugee's will be, where ever you and your fellow humans end up."

You can't deny what he says is true. But the lust-driven cloud fogging your mind is more than a significant contributor to the 'yes' that you utter to him. It makes his smirk wider, and his eyes darker.

"Would I, still stay in your quarters?" His hands still grip your hips tightly as you speak breathlessly, trying to whimper and grind yourself against him further.

"There's serf's quarters right next my own I can requisition just for you." His lips move from your mouth to your neck, pressing against the pulse point just below your right ear.

"But if you'd rather stay in my own, I won't complain."

[obsessedduh]

hear me out, simon w a reader whos never came before 🙏

so virgin reader? alr i can do that, nonnie!

genre: smut, obviously!

cw: none. implied afab!reader, though no pronouns.

side note: this might be tmi, but i was kids pissing at my bus stop today, so i thought if im gonna be traumatised, you're gonna be traumatised with me...

(no proofread because im on my period and the pains are so bad that i feel like my soul is being ripped out of me...)

MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

simon 'ghost' riley who only figured out you were a virgin and a virgin who's never touch themself at that is when you told him as he was undressing you. he looked at you with wide eyes and the thought sent a blood rushing south.

he couldn't help it, you're letting him take away your innocence?a big, military man such as himself. you really trust him that much with your body? gosh, he almost feels bad. almost.

he can't help imagine his cock sliding into your soaked, virgin cunt, watching as it stretches around his cock, struggling to take all of him in as you cry from the pleasure. gosh, he would fucking love that.

but of course, you need some prepping up to do that and loads of easing into the whole 'losing your virginity' idea.

"tell me whenever you wanna stop. no safe word. just tell me to stop and i will." he says as his head is in between your thighs, his warm breathe grazing against your pussy making you already wetter than you already are.

you nod, just desperate for some attention down there already. he hums and his tongue is already attached to your clit. you jolt at the feeling, the new unfamiliar feeling sending shivers down your spine. you reach down to grip onto his hair as you try to get used to the pleasure.

he look up at you and takes in your cute expression, they way your mouth is agape and your are eyes closed and your head is thrown back against the pillow makes his cock twitch against its confines.

he pulls away from your clit and dips his tongue into your tight hole and indulges himself with taste of your wetness made for him. he grinds himself against the bed to try and get rid of the annoying ache in his pants but he's failing miserably.

he feels your pussy clenching harder around his tongue and as your moans grow louder. he knows you're about to cum so he pulls away. you can't help but look at him with confusion at why he would stop when you were feeling so good?

"gonna make you feel good, just give me a sec, yeah?"

you nod and watch as he pushed down his sweat pants and you see his cock throbbing against his boxers, pre cum drenching part of his boxers from where the tip is. he slowly pushes his boxers down and you watch as it hits his stomach and stands its proud, nine inches tall.

his ego growing as he watches glance at his cock in awe and slight fear. he watches as your eyes stare at his balls to his pretty, pink tip that leaking precum all over his cock. "like what you see?"

he watches as get all nervous and he snickers, "nah, don't worry, only playing with ya."

he gently spreads your legs and little wider and presses his cock against your entrance and uses his bulbous tip to tease your swollen and puffy clit. he takes in the way you look down at his cock teasing you with slight fear, "its not gonna fit, si!!"

he smiles with reassurance, "don't worry, we'll make it fit. alright?"

you look nervous, but in the end, you agree. he hums and slowly slips his thick cock into your wetness inch by inch. he slowly starts moving his hips, easing you into the feeling of being stretch out. he watches as tears build up in your eyes and gently wipes the away with his fingers.

it took everything in him not to break you apart. you looked so pretty under him; your cunt struggling to take his length, the way tears are starting to build up in my eyes, the way you grip onto him for dear life. it was all too cute to him. what did he do to deserve such a pretty virgin like you?

he slowly starts moving faster, watching your expression for any sort of disagreement or uncomfiness, but when he saw nothing but pleasure etched onto your face, that's when he picked up the pace.

he feels his orgasm approaching but that's when you tried to push him off of you. "hey... what's wrong?"

"mmm... my stomach feels tight and weird, s-stop!!"

he laughs at your panic, "easy... easy... you're only about cum. don't worry it feels good, i promise..."

you think about it for a moment and nod; he slowly placed his thumb against your clit and starts to stimulate it. you mewl out as his thumb teases your bundle of nerves. you feel the knot in your stomach release and the pleasure you felt was heavenly. he observes your face as you come down from your high. he thinks you look so pretty when you come, so pretty that it helped him cum as well. his ejaculation buried deep inside of you now.

you both are now panting messes, "how was that?"

"great, si. great."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

wanna know more about me? —> here

masterlist —> here

[likedovesinthewindd]

You’re Art’s friend at Stanford and nothing more. He introduces you to Patrick at one of his practices and he regrets it because you two start dating.

✮ ⊹ ˚.

"Don't look at her like that, man," Art's voice said hopelessly as Patrick's eyes followed your figure as you practiced with one of your teammates. Patrick's elbows rested on his knees, practically hunched over as he watched you with unwavering attention. The sweat worked up from his and Art's practice still ran down the sides of his face, but not even that seemed to bother him at that moment. "Like what?" Patrick asked, eyes still not leaving you. "Like you want to fuck her."

"I do want to fuck her," Patrick informed his friend. Art's face scrunched up. "Well, you can't," he said matter-of-factly. "Why not?" Patrick asked, finally turning towards Art with a confused expression. "Are you fucking her?" Art scoffed, crossing his arms as he slumped back in the bench, watching as you laughed at something your friend said. "No," he said, not missing the way Patrick's smirk grew in his peripheral. "Then I really don't see the problem, Art," Patrick reasoned, his gaze once again returning to you.

In truth, Art had seen this coming from the first day you two met. He knew Patrick better than he knew himself, so when he saw the way Patrick looked at you when he introduced you, the way his character smirk formed on his face in way akin to the grinch, he knew exactly what Patrick was thinking.

That was about two month ago, and by now, you and Patrick were officially dating, much to Art's dismay and after a handful of not so subtle attempts to stop it from happening. You tried you tune him put every time he stared, but you were beginning to grow bored of this argument.

"I still don't think he's good enough for you," he suddenly stated as the two of you were on your way to the dining hall after practicing together. You rolled your eyes, adjusting the strap of your gym bag on your shoulder. "C'mon, Art. Don't start again," you said, looking over at him pleadingly. His hardened expression softened when he saw the defeated look on your face, but he didn't drop the subject. "I'm serious," he said and you scoffed. "We're just having fun, Art," you said with a weak laugh. "So you're not serious about it?" he asked.

"I don't know, is Patrick?" you asked. Art opened the glass door for you, and you entered with him right on your tail. "Listen, I'm not trying to be over-negative or anything, but I know Patrick. He," Art's face scrunched up a little before he signed, trying to find the words but you didn't give him the opportunity. "So you're saying Patrick's a bad boyfriend? Or that he'd be a bad boyfriend?" you asked as you grabbed a tray.

"Maybe," Art answered. "You're an awful friend," you said with a humorless laugh as you filled your plate. "To you or Patrick?" he asked and you looked over at him in disbelief. "I'm just trying to look out for you," he added, "Nothing against Patrick, but I really believe you could do better than him."

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. "I appreciate you looking out for me, but I can figure that out on my own," you said. Art sighed softly, nodding before the two of you made your way to the tables.

Art wasn't willing to drop it just yet though, because just like his best friend, when he had his eye one a goal, he was going to attain it by any means necessary.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Ed: Stede. Stede wake up. Babe. Babe. Babe wake up.

Stede: whuh timeizzit

Ed: I dunno like two am

Stede: edward teach you woke me up at 2 am

Ed: it's important

Stede: oh. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Bad dream? Nervous tummy?

Ed: no I'm good. Just got an important question for you

Stede: alright shoot

Ed: so you remember how I'm trans right

Stede:

Stede: yeah Ed. I remember.

Ed: I was just thinking. If I had, like, a cis dick, what do you think it would look like

Stede: I thought you didn't want bottom surgery -

Ed: I don't. I was just wondering Stede.

Stede: well it would have an excellent mouthfeel first of all

Ed: why is that the first thing -

Stede: I'm just going off what's already there. I love putting the dick you have now in my mouth. So I'm assuming that would be the same

Ed: alright

Stede: and it would be smaller than average I think

Ed: you - fuck off, I can't believe I woke you up for this very important question and you immediately assigned me "small dick"

Stede: I just like the idea of it being little and cute. Like yours is right now, kinda. And I could hold it so easy and stroke it and play with it

Ed: you're just repeating things you like to do now

Stede: well honestly Ed I love your dick as it is. can't help that

Ed: uh huh well alright if you were a trans guy

Stede: oh here we go

Ed: fuck I can't even assign you tiny clit, we both know you'd get hella bottom growth

Stede: I have really good dick genes

Ed: yeah keep rubbing it in

Stede:

Stede: hey Ed. You do know that I love everything about your body right

Ed, very choked up: yeah. I know.

Stede: and I wouldn't change a single thing about it. If you wanted bottom surgery I'd support you 100%, but I love everything about you and your body. Your dick very much included.

Ed: yeah. kinda guessed. based on how often it's in your mouth

Ed: I just - I know a lot of guys don't want...I'm sorry that you have to deal with -

Stede: nope gonna stop you there. You don't need to have a cis dick to have a man's body. I love your dick, just as it is, because it can make you feel good.

Ed: i love you so fucking much

Stede: :)

Ed: you know what might make me feel better

Stede: is it putting your dick in my mouth

Ed: maybe

[transform4u]

I’m a younger gay guy but I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a more mature straight daddy. Someone very masculine and alpha, kinda of a bad boy like a biker or something. Someone who’s got a couple kids out there but is still always horny and ready to fuck. You think you could help me experience that kind of life?

As you leave work, the weight of another mundane day lingers on your shoulders. The city streets lead you to a quaint antique shop tucked away in a quiet corner—a place called Enigma Emporium. Stepping inside, you're immediately immersed in a world of nostalgia and oddities. Leather jackets hang beside well-worn band shirts, old playbills, and stacks of vinyl records. Each item seems to whisper a story from decades past, each corner revealing a new layer of forgotten treasures.

You're not alone in your exploration. A figure emerges from the shadows, dressed in a striking crimson red suit. His presence is magnetic, his smile mischievous yet inviting. "Hello, I'm Robin Morningstar. I'm the proprietor of this curio shop. You seem lost—well, not lost, but I feel like you've ended up on the wrong path in life, young man," he says, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. His words catch you off guard, striking a chord deep within. All those nights at gay bars, those fleeting Grindr encounters—suddenly they seem hollow, devoid of meaning.

You find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to resist the charm and insight in his piercing gaze. There's an understanding between you, unspoken yet palpable.

"Well, I have something just perfect for you," he continues, his eyes seeming to gleam with anticipation. Without hesitation, he moves swiftly through the shop, weaving between shelves and displays until he returns with a small, antique watch in hand. It's simple, unassuming—a stark contrast to the flamboyance of his attire and the richness of the shop's treasures.

You can't help but feel a pang of disappointment, expecting something more profound or mystical. Sensing your hesitation, he places the watch gently around your wrist, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "This is exactly what you need," he assures you with a knowing smile.

As you reach for your wallet to pay, he stops you with a gentle wave of his hand. "No charge, my friend. Consider it a gift," he says mysteriously, urging you towards the door.

Outside, the air feels different. The watch on your wrist suddenly feels heavier, its presence almost pulsating against your skin. The hands begin to move erratically, spinning and twisting as if they have a will of their own. A strange tightness grips your head, and you stagger slightly, trying to regain your bearings.

With each step away from Enigma Emporium, something changes within you. Your posture straightens, your stride becomes more purposeful. You absentmindedly touch your face, only to feel the startling transformation unfolding. Your skin ages before your eyes, becoming weathered and rough. Deep lines carve themselves into your once smooth features, and a stubbled beard grows thick and untamed.

Your eyes, once wide with innocence, narrow into a gaze that's both cynical and knowing. A cocky grin replaces your former smile, reflecting a newfound confidence tinged with a hint of world-weariness.

As you pass by a window of another store, you catch a glimpse of your reflection and are taken aback. The face staring back at you is much older than you remember—rough, weathered, with deep lines etched into your skin and a thick, unkempt beard that speaks of years gone by. You estimate you must be at least 40, maybe even 45 years old, though it's hard to tell exactly from just a glance.

Instinctively, you reach up and stroke your beard, feeling the coarseness of the hair against your fingertips. As you do, you sense a change within yourself. There's a strange sensation of growing taller, not physically but in presence, as if a weight has settled upon your shoulders, bringing with it a sense of maturity and authority.

You become acutely aware of your body, feeling muscles that were once lean and lithe now packing themselves on with a new solidity. It's as though every fiber of your being is being redefined, sculpted by an unseen force. The transformation is not just physical; it's a visceral experience that ignites a fire in your soul.

This fire burns away your compassion, your old desires, leaving behind a raw intensity. You reach into your pocket and pull out a cigarette, lighting it with practiced ease. As you inhale, the smoke fills your lungs, a fuel that seems to stoke the flames within you. Burning up those pathetic gay thoughts. As the cigarette burns down to ash, so do your gay thoughts. The desire to settle down with another man is nothing more than a distant memory, replaced by an overwhelming urge to spread your seed far and wide. You envision yourself as a breeding machine, fucking every willing (and unwilling) woman you come across until they're all pregnant with your children. The thought of ramming your thick cock into some dumb broad's pussy makes you rock hard, ready for action at any moment.

Memories of countless women flash through your mind—their eager mouths wrapped around your thick cock as they moaned your name over and over. You remember last weekend, taking home a flight attendant who couldn't help but lust after your muscular body. She moaned, "Silas…I need your cock," and you threw her into bed without hesitation.

"Why don't you call me…Daddy, babe?" you grunted, and she smiled in response. "Yes, daddy," she said before going to town on your dick like the good little slut that she was.

Memories flood your mind, memories that feel both foreign and strangely familiar. You recall nights of reckless abandon, of taking whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. Drunken brawls in dimly lit bars, the thrill of adrenaline coursing through your veins, and the bitter taste of being thrown out into the cold night.

You find yourself standing in front of your favorite biker bar, a thick leather jacket seems to materialize on your chest, fitting snugly as if it has always belonged there. With a sense of purpose and confidence, you push through the heavy wooden door. The room falls silent as heads turn to see who has entered.

The atmosphere is thick with the scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke, the dim lighting casting shadows across rugged faces and tattooed arms. As all eyes settle on you, a ripple of recognition and respect passes through the crowd. You've become a figure of authority in this place, a man whose presence commands attention.

"What's up, men!" you call out, your voice carrying over the murmurs of conversation. The words come naturally, infused with a rugged charm that seems to have emerged from deep within you. "Round of whiskey shots on me," you declare, a grin spreading across your weathered face.

Cheers erupt from the gathered patrons, a chorus of rough voices shouting in approval. Men raise their glasses in salute, some nodding appreciatively as they acknowledge your gesture.

You stride confidently to the bar, the clink of boots on the worn wooden floor echoing in the sudden hush. The bartender, a grizzled veteran of the establishment, nods knowingly as he lines up the shots. He slides them across the bar towards you, and you pick one up, raising it high in a toast to the camaraderie of the brotherhood around you.

As the fiery liquid burns down your throat, you feel a sense of belonging wash over you. This place, with its rough edges and unfiltered conversations, feels like home in a way you never expected.

You turn to the bartender and begin recounting your latest conquest, describing in vivid detail how you pounded some dumb broad's pussy until she begged for mercy. You laugh heartily as you tell him about another woman trying to hit you up for child support but how could she expect anything from someone like yourself? You probably have more than one kid out there by now, but who cares? Not someone like yourself.

You continue your story, going on and on about how every night you get drunk as shit and find some tight pussy to plow. Your voice grows louder with each passing moment, filled with the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he wants. "A real man knows how to tame a woman," you say proudly, gesturing towards the other men at the bar who nod in agreement.

You take another shot of whiskey, feeling it burn down your throat like liquid fire. This is what life is all about—chasing after pleasure without apology or regret. And tonight, there's no doubt in your mind that there will be more conquests waiting for you once this bottle is empty.

You hear the breathless moans from behind you, and turn around to see the sluttiest looking girl you've ever seen. Her tight dress clings to her body like a second skin, revealing every curve and contour. Her lips are painted with so much makeup that she looks like a total bimbo. But there's something about her that draws you in—a raw sexuality that begs to be unleashed.

"Are you even man enough to tame me, daddy?" she asks coyly, batting her eyelashes at you. You can feel your cock stirring in your pants at the thought of taking this little minx for a ride.

You adjust your thick, ten-inch cock, and she can't help but stare down at it with a mixture of awe and lust. "I think that answers your little question, honey," you say with a cocky smile.

You wrap your arm around her waist, feeling the softness of her body against yours. Your hand finds its way to her breast, squeezing gently as you lead her towards the back exit. She moans softly in response, clearly enjoying the attention from such an alpha male like yourself.

As you step outside into the cool night air, you can't help but feel invincible—a horny asshole daddy who takes what he wants without apology or regret.

[seramilla]

(Imagine if Lute woke up almost eleven days later after Emily saved her only to have Sera and Carmilla in the room checking in on her and dressing her injuries. I’m sure Sera would have some questions about what happened to her and why she’s in hell and looks like a sinner while Carmilla, aiding Sera, is not exactly happy about Lute being there having learned that she’s the reason Emily was scapegoated.)

Lute jerks awake feeling a sharp pain where her eye was missing. She instinctively goes to swing the sharp talons of her demon hand at the offender when a large clawed hand stops her in her tracks.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. Sera is just changing out your bandages.”

Black and gold meet red and white. Lute feels very very small under the burning gaze when she realizes that is she is in the presence of a Very POWERFUL OVERLORD who is holding her arm in place so effortlessly.

“Lute…”

A softer catches her attention, she knows that voice. She turns her head and wishes the ground would swallow her up as she sees the familiar form Sera. She seems more at ease here than she ever did in heaven.

“…I have a few questions. Most will pertain to your fall, your changes, and injuries.”

She’s so screwed, of course she would want to know…but the doesn’t help her cope with the fact she caused it all herself. She tries to swallow back the guilt but it sinks into the pit of her stomach like a stone. Where to even start?

Lute's eye travels back and forth between the two women taking care of her. The overlord's face is set in a scowl that makes Lute feel smaller than she thinks she's ever felt before. There is so much hatred and scorn behind that woman's gaze, that Lute realizes her entire body is paralyzed by how intimidated she is. She's never met this person before...why does she look like she'd enjoy tearing Lute apart and feasting on her battered, bloody corpse?

Wait…is this…?

Sera seems to notice the effect the other woman is having on Lute. She smiles at the overlord, oddly soft and timid compared to how Lute is used to seeing her. Sera had once been so full of authority, with a domineering, confident air about her. The way she looks at this demon woman is...affectionate.

"Carmilla? Would you give us a moment?"

Wait…fuck….THAT Carmilla???

Carmilla doesn't speak. She shoots Lute one more angry, incensed look, and shows herself out of the room. Lute doesn't even realize how tight she'd been holding onto her bedsheets, or how tense she’d been keeping her shoulders; as the other woman exits, Lute finds herself relaxing. Her skin is still crawling, but not as bad now.

"Now," Sera says, turning her attention back to the diminutive angel. "Would you like to tell me what happened, and what you're doing here? And why you look like this?"

Lute shakes. She is shivering. Like a small child left out freezing in the cold. Like her entire body has been dunked into a freezing vat of ice water. Sera leans down, and puts her arm around Lute's shoulder. Lute almost flinches away, but Sera holds onto her tight.

"Breathe," Sera coos. "Just breathe."

Where is this coming from, Lute thinks? Why is the High Seraphim...the once powerful authority over all of Heaven, second only to the council of Elders and the Father himself, treating her this way? With so much empathy, and kindness, and patience? And gentleness? It makes no sense. Not after what Lute had done to her and Emily.

Lute feels nauseous...the bile is already rising toward the back of her throat, threatening to make a not-so-graceful exit, burning its way up her esophagus.

"Why are you helping me?" Lute asks, almost demanding. "What did I do...? You shouldn't be... It was because of me that you...!"

Lute can't manage to finish a sentence, but Sera seems like she knows what Lute is asking, all the same. She rubs Lute's shoulder where her arm is wrapped around her, holding her steady. When Lute starts to get dizzy, she helps the battered angel lie back down, holding a cold cloth to her forehead.

Lute is running a fever...she can tell from the delirium. Maybe an infection, somewhere. Her entire body hurts. But through it all, she still questions...why?

"The people down here have taught me things about forgiveness," Sera says bluntly, drawing Lute out of her bout of mental self-flagellation. "When Emily found you, I almost told her to toss you back where you came from. I was livid. She was the one who made the case to keep you here...and if I were still the type of person I was in Heaven, I wouldn't have allowed it. Or I would have let Carmilla take a stab at you first. Heaven knows she wanted you to die."

Lute quakes in fear. Sera looks at her again, with more disappointment than anger. They both know what Lute and Adam had done. How they were responsible for her and Emily becoming fallen. But rather than seek vengeance on the former Exorcist for her betrayal...the only feeling Lute gets from Sera is pity.

"But it seems like your suffering has been far more recompense for your sins than any of us could ever inflict upon you. So I want to ask you again...what happened to you? What are you doing here?"

Lute can't argue with her. She has suffered. She doesn't want to suffer anymore. So she tells Sera...everything. How her guilt had consumed her. How it had literally transformed her body, fed off her angelic essence, turning her into this, before she'd ever entered Hell. How she'd stayed behind during the last Extermination, hiding and feeding off scraps in the street while she suffered through the pain. How she'd ripped out her own eye, plucked out her own feathers, and tried to remove her demonic wings, but they just kept growing back.

Sera listens, without judgement, without derision, and just stares into the mattress next to Lute's demonic hand. She hasn't been able to look directly into Lute's remaining eye since the former Exorcist began her tale. The things the Exorcist went through...did to herself...it's almost too much for her. When Lute finishes, Sera's expression has totally changed. The anger and disappointment are gone. All that's left is...sadness.

Sera clears her throat, actively fighting back tears. "Thank you, Lute, for sharing that with me...I'm so-- Uhm. Well...Emily wanted to see you when you woke up. Do you want me to go get her?"

Lute doesn't miss the almost-apology Sera had been about to give her, but at the mention of Emily's name, the thought completely leaves her mind. Her one remaining eye brightens a little at the sound, and she tries again to sit up in bed.

"Yes!" Lute says, a little more enthusiastic than intended, fighting with herself to sit up despite the pain in her back. "Yes. Please. Let me see her."

[gabessquishytum]

i keep typing out asks to send you but stop working part way through 😔 so instead of letting them sit in my google docs, i'm just gonna send what i've written and just summarize what i wanted the rest to be 🙃

so. here's one of them lmao

---------

loosely inspired by Abigail (2024)

---

Hob is a reformed criminal, ok; he got out of that life when he met Eleanor and created a new life for himself when they married, identity and all. He didn't want any children they had to have to deal with any of that. He was even going to school to become a teacher.

And then Eleanor died and Robyn was taken and now Hob is being forced back into that life to get him back.

It's a kidnapping job, some rich fuck, with a large payout and Hob doesn't fucking care, he just wants his son back.

When he sees it's a 12 year old boy who's scared out of his mind, though, that's when he snaps.

He can't do anything, not yet, not when they- whoever they are, he still isn't sure- still have Robyn. All he can do right now is wait and protect the boy.

--

so it eventually gets revealed that the kids name is Orpheus, that his father is Dream (who's known to be incredibly dangerous, there are stories about him, most of which Hob doesn't believe because hello, vampires aren't real!!!)

except Hob gets proven wrong when Orpheus gets scared (and hungry) enough (he's just a baby!!!) and starts killing off his abductors. he only leaves Hob alone because he was nice to him and confided in Orpheus about his son.

Dream finally shows up at the end of the bloodbath (he was out of the country or something, idk lmao) with Robyn, who had been taken by Burgess (he wanted to force Dream into turning him and that's where Dream thought Orpheus was at first) and is all "you protected my son in the end and ur hot, i'm gonna turn you and make you my bride :)"

and Hob is like "!!! I don't want to get murdered if I say no so I guess I don't have a choice!!!"

and so Hob gets turned, he and Dream are now vampire married and fuck often, and Robyn and Orpheus bond over having weird dads (and when he's old enough, Robyn chooses to be turned as well; no way was Hob gonna make him go through puberty AND deal with being a vampire) (really Hob just didn't want to deal with the angst that came from it all, it's like the normal teenage angst bullshit got doubled and he was NOT doing it, thank you very much) (Orpheus was bad enough, and he was a born vampire; he definitely got the dramatics from his father)

Awww so cute! I remember the trailers for Abigail and thinking that the young lil vampire killing people was a cool concept.

I think the vampire family with Dream and Orpheus and Hob and Robyn would be so cute 🥺 like they live in a big spooky chateau with lots of vampire servants (who are also their friends tbh. Cori is their terrible terrible butler and Matthew is meant to be a valet but hes honestly just Dream’s weird friend at this point) and they go on hunts to kill bad people and eat them, and sometimes they go into town and do normal human things (Dream is really not very good at pretending to be human, but it makes Hob and the kids laugh a lot to see him try). Of course Dream hosts fancy vampire balls sometimes, and persuades Hob to get all dressed up in flowing red ballgowns because they're vampire married and Dream wants to show off his bride to everyone!!!

Orpheus and Robyn have to get Matthew to help them in solidly soundproofing their bedrooms because their dads are having NASTY sex every night. Orpheus has it worse because he has super vampire hearing - he did NOT want to know about his dad and step-dad's kinky strapped to an altar drinking each other's blood sex. But he gets his revenge eventually with a fellow vampire called Eurydice when they fuck on Dream’s favourite red velvet couch. DEFINITELY dramatic just like his father, honestly.

But next time someone tries to kidnap literally anyone in the Endless-Gadling family, they're in for a big surprise. Dream and Hob are protective of their baby boys, and Orpheus and Robyn are soon fully grown vampires ready to protect their dads. They really are the cutest family! As long as you're not squeamish!

[ilivingonmyway]

Something, something, some headcanons about the Ninja team that I have this is in alphabetical order.

Cole

• Being the Earth Elemental, he knows several types of rocks, earth and minerals, as each one has a different structure that can interfere and/or contribute to a task/fight.

• Even though he hated dancing for a long time, he still practiced some steps from different dance styles, because some of them were very similar to moves that could be used in battle he did it in secret thought.

• For a long time he always acted a little distant from the other team members, but he was still there to support them if they needed it.

• He's a mama's boy, and he loved seeing Lilly and Lou dancing together.

• It was his grandfather who chose his name. He was bedridden, but he held on until Lilly gave birth to the baby, and when Grandfather saw the little one he cried, because he knew he wouldn't survive to see the child growing up, So, Lilly asked him to name him, as if it were an "I'll always be here" gesture from grandfather to grandson.

• His favorite game is the one where there's a bunch of food falling from the sky and you have to catch it, he's already broken a record 3 times in this game.

Jay

• He's the fastest and most elastic/flexible on the team. This guy's ability to put his thigh behind his head is insane, you DON'T want to be his partner in stretching exercises.

• He knows the Kyusho-Jitsu. This is a technique/type of fight used to stun/paralyze the opponent by striking pressure points (Curiosity, this is the technique that inspired Ty Lee's Chi Blocking technique from ATLA). He uses this on normal criminals, like thieves, assassins, and smuggling gangs, that way they don't get hurt. However, he also use it on Krypytarium criminals, but with the addition of a mild shock to ensure the criminal is rendered unconscious.

• Edna taught him how to cook, so he has the ability to make really good food. Although he prefers to make roasts and stews.

• Jay is a sleepwalker. Not daily, but during really bad lightning storms. Master Wu often found him sleeping on the highest point of the Monastery after the storm. Once, the Ninjas tried to keep him inside the room during the storm. They locked the door and windows and kept watch. But somehow, Jay still managed to get out of the room and get into the storm. No one ever found out how he did this.

• This one I got from Lloyd’s Guide To Surviving The Merge, a lovely fanfiction of @omgjayaaa, I really loved that one He's a medic. He knows how to treat illnesses, injuries, concussions, etc. It started out more as a hobby. Check out medical books from the local library and spend hours reading and applying the teachings on the Monastery's training dummies (sometimes Zane was the victim) just as a "strange diversion" (Kai's words). However, one day, there was a training accident and Cole dislocated his arm, while everyone was worried trying to call the hospital, in an incredible act not to mention strange of calm, Jay grabbed Cole's arm and relocated it back into place, then he borrowed some materials that were in his room and made a sling for the Earth Elemental's arm. No one ever forgot that day, because while Jay was "Just another normal day" the others were staring at him like "What the fuck was that?"

• I also got this from a Ninjago chat fanfic, also from @omgjayaaa He is a natural with children. You can't say otherwise, that this super sensitive and humorous man doesn't have a natural ability to calm/entertain/do anything involving children. And he really enjoys that, being able to make a baby stop crying and go to sleep or helping a child that got lost from the parents. Your honor, this man has everything it takes to be a good father and you're not going to change my mind.

Kai

• He hates super spicy food, being the Fire Elemental doesn't mean his taste buds are pepper/wasabi approved. He just likes a small amount in his food. Ironically, spicy food can kind of serve as fuel for the fire, so the hotter the pepper is, the more heat the fire emanates from it. Although he hates this ability.

• He's not very good at reading/writing, he left school very early to take care of Nya and the Blacksmith, so he lost most of his literacy skills. However, he took some lessons from Wu, so he didn't feel so out of place.

• In fact, his natural hair is like his mother's, but it's as untamable as his father's, which is why he uses so much hair gel. Like, you can't say that wavy and stubborn hair is not hard to care.

• He's that kind of person who sings in the shower, he often forgets that there are people in the Monastery and starts singing so loud that you can hear it from the training yard.

• He and Jay, often in secret, hang out together. Where? Karaoke. Kai sings and Jay plays the guitar, sometimes they change roles Kai prefers to play the bass. It's a lot of fun for both of them, but they don't want to let others find out, because they know none of them, especially Nya, would let it go.

• As much as many people think otherwise, of the RGB siblings, Kai is the most "stable". Not because he wants to, but because he is Nya and Lloyd's support. He feels very embarrassed when the papers change.

• He is super attentive to people close to him, especially Lloyd, who is the youngest on the team. However, now with the addition of Wyldfyre, Sora and Arin in DR, he is as protective as he was with Lloyd.

[hzbinnerdlover]

Late Evening sickness (Part 2)

(I gotta request to do a part 2- and I couldn't resist so here's that lol. Enjoy!)

Val laid in the bed as he ate the takeout that Vox had promised him, yearning and missing his TV demon husband. Vox had to suddenly rush back to work after breakfast, some kind of emergency or something which pisses him off, but he understood since he could just take the elevator back to their floor easily. So the rest of the day Kitty took care of him, bringing him drinks and water and tissues, anything he could need really.

Val whined as he laid back against his pillow and felt his throat, the soreness coming through as he sighed. "Goddammit. Course this fucking happens to me." Giving a stuffy sniffle he goes back to his phone for entertainment.

"This fucking blows! I just...want....gah...GA'SHOO!!! ECK'SHUU!!! HIP'SHUUUU!!! Ugh...."

"Bless you beautiful", Val perked up as he looked over, seeing Vox standing in the doorway as he smiled softly. "How are we feeling hm? Any better?" He asks as he takes off his suit jacket and hangs it up, clearing his throat a bit.

"Yeah, better. The medicine helps a lot. Makes me feel a little less congestion, sneeze a bit less. But I still feel like shit", Val sighs as he grabs a tissue and blows his nose, sighing in relief afterwards and tossing it away. "Yeah well, you'll probably be sick for at least a few more days Val. That's typically how colds work." Vox goes over to his drawer as he starts taking off his bowtie, back turned towards Val as he's putting it away in the drawer. Giving a loud whine Val shakes his head. "Yeah well I hate it! I just want it to stop! It just hurts and makes me cold, and it's worse if you can't be here with me and I feel so-"

"Hzztu!" A small noise interrupts Val, leaving the moth rather confused as he looks around. "The fuck- did you hear that?" Vox shrugged as he started making hus way towards his closet and rubs eyes, looking for something more comfortable as he removed his vest.

"Huh- well. What was I saying? Right. Being sick is a fucking BITCH! I'm telling ya! My fucking nose is gonna fall off from all this fucking sneezing, I can't stand it. It just makes it....all the....heh...", Val hitches slightly as tho about to sneeze before he hears another small sound. "H-Hzztu!" Val immediately stops and blinks, the sound distracting him from his sneeze as he groans. "Dammit Vox, is something glitching in here? If so it's pissing me off."

"Sorry baby, not sure what it is. I'll have to check it out in a bit." He sighs as he looks around for something, giving a slight shiver. "Shit. Val, have you seen my hoodie? The blue one with the Giant shark on the back?"

"Huh? Oh. Pretty sure it's in the very back there hon. You haven't worn that one in awhile-"

Vox rolled his eyes and reaches back as he starts pulling it out with a pair of pj pants, quickly changing as Val continues his rant, "Ugh they really did make this hell didn't they? It's unbelievable!!!" He gives an eye roll as he coughs a bit.

Vox rubs his head, getting tired of all the whining. "I know it sucks Val, but I'm sure you'll feel better soon. Can we not talk about this right now...? My head is pounding..."

"Well- this was gonna happen whether you were here now or earlier- so it's happening now cause I've barely had anyone to talk to except texting Velvette! And that isn't very-" he stops when he notices Vox's eyes close and tilts his head confused. "Vox- shit does it hurt that bad...?"

Vox simply nodded as he turned his back to him, raising a sleeve to his face as another sound came out. "Hzztu!!! Hzztu!!!"

Val raises an eyebrow at him and blinks. "So that is you? The fuck kind of noises are you making there, it's hard to tell"

Vox groaned as he looked at him with a slightly annoyed look. "Look can I just get 5 minutes to just...think things throught...I....heh...." shutting his eyes again Vox shook his head, no longer able to stifle.

"H-HIT'ZZZZZZUUUUUU!!!", giving a groan as he swiped hie hand across his face, his cheeks giving a slightly flushed look as he looks at Val. Val stared back, the two of them going into a silence for a moment before the moth finally spoke. "......YOU'RE FUCKING SICK TOO?!?!"

"Um well- just a little Val- it's fine. Not a big de-"

"Dont start with that shit!!! Did you go to fucking work like this?! While you were fucking sick?!"

"Uuuuuuuuh-" Vox blinked as he looked away, thinking back to earlier today.

(Earlier that day)

Vox groaned as he starts walking down to the office. "Jesus this fucking sucks....course I have to get sick same fucking day Val does. H-Hzztu!!!", he stifles into his sleeve to try to keep the sneezes as hidden as he can. He did NOT want anyone else to know he was sick around here. Quickly he got into his office and sighed in relief. "Thank god...I just stay in here, and no one has to know."

He walks over to hus chair and slumps down, sighing as he pulls up hus forms and emails and starts getting to work. Hearing footsteps enternhe groans and turns around.

"Yes? Who the fuck is-" he then saw it was hid assistant, Eli, giving a smile with some of paperwork and reports he no doubt had to share. "M-Mr.Vox, I have this week's reports to read to you sir." Of course he did. Of course he fucking did. Vox sighed and stood back up as he walked over. "Fine fine, let's just get this over with. Quickly please."

"O-Oh right- so. There was an incident this week with the marketing department, but it should be relatively easy for us to fix and-", Eli swished his eel tail back and forth as he continued reading the rest of the messages and reports that came for this week. Vox could barely pay attention tho as he felt a familiar itch hitting his face. Trying desperately not to focus on it he mentally told himself, "No no, come on not now. Please", but it was no use. The itch was pursuing and there was no way to stop it.

Seeing Eli was focused on the task at hand Vox quickly turned away to attempt to stifle again. "H'zzztu! H'zzztu!"

Eli blinked for a moment as his eyes looked up from the paper. "Did you say something sir?"

Vox sniffed as he shook his head. "No, nothing. Please continue" he insisted as he put hid hands behind his back. Unfortunately stifling all the time like this just made Vox's nose itch even more, so badly that as Eli went back to his reports, Vox's breath started hitching a bit.

It only got deeper and deeper, more noticeably audible as Eli once again looked up rather concerned. "Sir...?"

Vox shook his head as he tries to fight it back. "D-Dont worry about it, i-it's j-just heh...." Turning away again he knew he couldn't hold back. "H-HZZZZZTUUU!!!!!", sneezing loudly this time around he groaned in annoyance, feeling his nose run as he sniffled.

"Oh! Bless you Mr.Vox! Are you feeling well there...?" Vox nodded as he attempted to respond. "I'm fine, I'm just- TSK'SHIEEEW! HIT'ZUUUUU! Ugh....I'm fine." He finally spits out with a damp sniffle and another groan.

Eli looks at him rather worried, reaching for something in his pocket. "Um, if you don't mind me sir, I believe I have something that'll help." Giving a warm smile he pulls out a travel sized packet of tissues and holds them out to his TV demon boss.

Looking over slowly he glances at the tissues, sighing in defeat as he reaches over and takes one from the pack. "Ugh, thank you. Just don't tell- ACK'SHEEEW! Scuse me, don't tell anyone about this okay?"

He then let's out a gurgling blow into the tissue and let's out cough.

"Yes sir of course. Feel free to take the rest of the pack if you need it, and if you're falling ill I can bring some lemon tea for you. I imagine your throat must hurt."

Vox nods as he sighs and takes the pack of tissues finishing up wiping his nose with the wet used one. "Thank you...that would be wonderful. I'm gonna try to get some work done, don't let anyone else in for the day." Sighing he watches Eli leave and goes back to his work, slumping in his seat as he focuses at the task at hand.

(Back to the present)

Val gave a heavy sigh and facepalms. "You fucking idiot-"

"I had to Val! There's was shit that needed to be done!"

"Oh please, I'm sure your little assistant could've handled everything just fine. Now you listen to- Dammit hold on-" Val turns away and inhales sharply as another sneeze fit goes through. "Ech'shuuu! HI'CHUUU!!! IP'SHUUUU!!! Heh...HICK'CHUUU!!! ACHIEEEW!!!! Fucking christ"

He sniffles loudly as he groans and grabs a couple tissues, blowing his nose into them with a heavy breath.

Vox rolled his eyes as he mutters under his breath. "Bless you...can you not get on my- Hzztu!" Turning into his sleeve he let out a few stifled sneezes. "Hzzztu! Hzztu! Hzztu! Ugh..."

Raising an eyebrow Val rolled his own eyes and gave a slightly amused chuckle. "Bless YOU, Cariño, you really should stop trying to stifle them. It just makes the itch worse. Tho I'm sure you know that at this point." He grabs the tissue box and holds it out. "You need one?"

Vox nods as he groans. "God yes please, I ran out in the office." He walks over, hovering a bit as he shivered and coughs. Reaching out he grabs one immediately. "Thank you- Hzzztu! Thank you so much." Giving a sniffle he wipes his nose before coughing again.

"Voxieeeee, now what was I saying before hm? As amusing as thus is~ You're not doing yourself any favors." Vox shot him a glare as he finishes mopping up his face. "Oh fuck you, it's a hard habit to kill okay? I'm used to it. Heh....oh fuck..." Throwing the tissue out he breathes deeply for what he assumes is an incoming sneeze, only for it to get stuck as he stops and groans. "Come ooooon, seriously?" Plopping onto the bed he looks at Val desperately. "Vaaaaal it's stuck"

Val gives a slight chuckle to which Vox gives a slightly annoyed look. "You little- heh....heh....gaaaah dammit stop laughing at me!!! I'm serious I just wanna fucking-" he stops when Val leans over and gives a simple blow of air towards Vox's face.

"Heh.....heh....", suddenly the tickle came back in an instant, freeing his poor sinuses. "Heh....HICK'SHUUUUUU!!!!! ECK"CHHHUUU!!!! HIT'ZUUUUU!!!! H-HECHEEEEW!!!! HECHEW!!!! HECHEW!!!! HECHEW!!!! Hi....HET'ZZZZZZZUUUUU!!!!" Once the fit finally ended the bedroom lights flickered, and Vox was out of breath, his nose running like a faucet as he sniffled.

"Ugh....fuck that was gross...", Vox groaned as Val laughed a bit, grabbing some more tissues and passing them along. "Sorry, figured you'd want that pesky itch out."

Rolling his eyes Vox took the tissues gratefully, blowing heavily into them and snatching the box to repeat the process a couple times before finally finishing. "Ugh...where's that medicine i gave you this morning?" He asks through his raspy voice, laying down and cuddling close to his husband.

"Ah, I think it's over here", reaching over he hands it to Vox, the tv demon immediately taking two ofnthe pills and plopping back down. "I'm ready to fucking sleep...."

Val chuckles and nods as he lays down and holds the poor tv demon close. "Goodnight Voxie~ Dont worry, I'm sure you'll feel bet...better....fuck" He sniffles and rubs his nose.

Vox raises an eyebrow. "Val you...you good?" He starts to ask, feeling his own nose itch again as both demons are now left hitching for a moment till finally-

"HECK'SHUUUUU!!!", sniffling softly among themselves they blink at the realization of their shared sneeze before chuckling and closing their eyes, falling asleep with their love and sickness.

[sonolynn]

writing prompts

If you'd like to make a request, but don't know what to request, here are some prompts!!

Use these prompts if you want to make a request!

PSA: I made all of these quotes, aka they came from my brain (if they didn't then I reference who they did come from). You are welcome to use any of these in one of your own fics, just make sure to credit me! (more directed at the fluff and angst section, smut is just general phrases).

____________________________________________

Fluff:

"You are the poem I will spend the rest of my days writing."

"If the world disappeared you would be the one I looked for."

"I love you as if it is breathing-instictively-not even doing it."

"Your existence is proof alone that generations of your face has been loved."

"Her smile is infectious and I want nothing more to be infected."

"I'll make death pry me away from you."

"You are the best sun any Icarus could ask for."

"I know we promised to not fall in love but I've never been great at keeping promises."

"If your heart were a skill, I would spend years perfecting how to make you fall in love with me."

"You're beautiful. More beautiful now than ever."

"I can't not look at you."

"Your eyes hold my heart."

"Can you feel that? Feel how my heart bangs against my chest, wising it would be free to sit in your hands?"

"You don't even know the most of what I feel for you."

"It's not bad, to be in love."

"Let me love you."

"You've always been more than enough."

"I can't get you out of my head. Even when I close my eyes you're in the back of my mind."

"Trust me! Happy, scared, angry-I don't care just trust me."

"I saved the best parts of me for you."

____________________________________________

Angst:

"She gave me something close to what I feel for you, but not quite there."

"Is she/he staring at the moon the same way that I stare at her/him?"

"You've won the heart I've spent all of my days trying to protect."

"My soul aches for your every word."

"If a man can't love you then who can?"

"Half of my heart is in your chest." (Mama's boy by Dominic Fike)

"Need me, even if it isn't as much as I need you."

"He didn't need anyone with me, but he needed someone after me."

Person A: "You never answered my letters" Person B: "You sent letters?"

"I was just a secrete to you?"

"My heart is not my own."

"It was just a dream."

"You don't exist!"

"I didn't ask for this-for us!"

"It's for the better then. Because I don't deserve this."

"Open your eyes."

"You can't just leave me after everything we've been through."

"You are a broken piece of glass. The more I try to fix you the more you hurt me."

"I can't love you."

"You're not who I feel in love with. You're not the same."

____________________________________________

Smut:

"Let me ruin you."

"Oh I intend to worship."

"Your body deserves to be ravished."

"Touch me like nobody else does." (Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine)

"I can't not fuck you when you look at me like that."

"I need you."

"Let me take care of you."

"Shhh...I got you, love."

"You're going to drive me mad."

"I'm on my knees, what more could you want?"

"Let go for me."

"You're mine."

"Your body is mine to please, your brain is mine to fuck up."

"You look so pretty with tears in your eyes."

"Does your husband/wife know you're beneath me?"

"I know you want me."

"Show me how much you wish for me to ravish you."

"Don't stop on my account."

"You would be so much prettier with your lips wrapped around my cock."

"You can't possibly mean that after how I had you screaming my name last night."

____________________________________________

If you have any other ideas then feel free to send them! This is more of a guide! <3

[whatspastisprologue-blr]

Because 2 of my biggest hyperfixations are Interview with the Vampire and The Amazing Devil, here we go....

"Little Miss Why So" is, to me, based on my interpretation of the song, very much applies to Loustat in S1. To me, Madeleine is singing from the perspective of someone who is very depressed and who has a partner who is trying to cure her by, basically, loving her out of it. This is, to me, confirmed by the few lines that Joey sings, as though if he does enough good things for her, if he just shows her how much he loves her, she'll snap out of it. (And it doesn't work and they split up.)

I've been thinking about it a lot but especially in relation to the animation in S2E7 that depicts Lestat constantly doing things to make Louis happy/cure him of depression, while it doesn't work and Rue Royale gets more and more dilapidated until they can't even see each other over the mountain of newspapers, books, and other things. (I am completely sympathetic to Louis, btw, but I also know how scary and helpless it is to love someone and want to help them but you can't.)

Throughout LMWS, Madeleine lists all the things Joey's character has said or done and she sounds so exhausted, and there's this repeated "he said", and then she starts going into a mantra of sorts: "It's so boring, it's so boring, it's so boring....." And she caps it off with "et cetera" like she's just too bored to keep going but she could if she wanted to.

There's a few parts I want to call out specifically:

"I don't know how to reach you when you get like this. I've been waiting for you to come home."

This is Lestat's frustration, basically. He keeps trying to reach Louis and nothing is working. Even when Louis is home, physically, he's not present (I've seen great meta about Louis having a disassociative disorder). Special mention here to the line, "It's daylight again and you look like I've failed you." Lestat is a provider; it's something that he takes pride in and enjoys, whether it's his human family eating food that he hunted, or how he sent money and gifts to his human family after becoming a vampire, or the things he buys for Louis and Claudia.

"If I'm good, will you come back?"/"Stop asking why I'm sad, just know it's enough to know I'm sad." Madeleine and Joey are literally singing over each other here, singing at the same time. Their characters are speaking past each other. They're not listening to each other. Joey's character just wants to know how to fix her, what he has to do to get her to come back for him. Madeleine's character is just exhausted from having to provide reasons why she feels the way she does. Worse, her character continues (as though quoting Joey's), "Yeah, but why?" He's still asking her. He's not leaving her alone about it because he's obsessed with figuring out the problem so he can solve it. And it's driving her away.

"Why don't you just tell them all to fuck off, love, and be mine?" ("Them" probably being "those wankers that you serve all night".) For Lestat, "them"/"those wankers" is probably all of Louis's human connections.

As others have pointed out, "The Rockrose and the Thistle", another of TAD's songs, is a good example of how to love someone through depression instead of trying to love them out of it (too bad Lestat couldn't have heard it back then).

And while I could probably relate several other songs from The Amazing Devil to Interview with the Vampire, I'll just leave ya'll with this line from "Battle Cries": "This isn't a breakup, dear heart, it's a season finale!"

(Also, if you've listened to Little Miss Why So and you think that Joey sounds like Jaskier from Netflix's The Witcher, that's because it is! The Amazing Devil has 3 albums out, in case you want to hear more of his and Madeleine's phenomenal voices. Now, off you go, to be spellbound by these beautiful lovely Fae creatures!)

[lyssentome]

I am once again asking for advice: how do you people work on things???? Like, consistently???? This ain't even just about writing, I mean literally about everything. How do you do things when you don't want to???????? I don't have the willpower to keep up with things, I'm so lazy???? How do you all do the same routines over and over without feeling bored????????