#axe me bout it

[mooninmyjaws]

vent piece from HS

[xxplastic-cubexx]

i finished reading krakoa era and comic cherik are amazing SO i wanted to ask do you have any favorite issues/series i still don't really remember how to call it where cherik are also cool?? some iconis comic moments with them maybe??

im FARRR from finishing all of krakoa (ive probably barely even made a dent in this series), though i do think following the HoX + PoX issues themselves are great if we're talkin cherik-focused issues/books. i already said one of my fave aspects of cherik is their moments working together, so having a whole Omnibus dedicated to them Working Together and trusting each other (bonus points for Protective Erik with the Something Sinister bit) is already guaranteeing a sure spot in my Faves collection

one of my fave cool moments i've read so far- which is a moment i wager a lot of people can agree is Sick As Hell Visually if i may be so daring- is ABSOLUTELY this sequence from Inferno #4

any time erik and charles get to do some bamf shit together it is IMMEDIATELY peak to me this cannot be disputed and i'd be lying if i didn't say i bought this run solely for this moment here (ignore the fact they fumble this fight horribly that dont matter they looked cool as hell for five seconds !!!!!!!!!!!)

i can't wait to read more and find even more moments i love and want to tape to my eyelids <3 !!

[spaciebabie]

oc brainrot time feat. more of the Worst Siblings in the World™

fun fact! all of the gem siblings have curly blond hair but spinel and citrine dye and straighten theirs. thats not important tho so dont worry abt it

you best believe that when citrine and spinel work out tagether, citrine complains the whole time.

[impossible-rat-babies]

in a heap of eyrie and estinien feelings don’t mind me

[pirateprincessblog]

2 batteries away

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: if he can choose to spend time with someone else rather than you, daryl would do it. not because he hates you. he simply doesn't have any type of connection with you. and you are so young. but when rick demands that you join him on a scavenge hunt, he doesn't have much of a saying into it, and chooses to act unbothered. he also chooses to ignore the way you tease him the whole trip, your hips swaying just a bit more when walking than usual. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daryl dixon x female reader 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: alexandria, pre-negan 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: big age gap, reader is half daryl's age 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, masturbation, breath-play, subtle ddlg, toys, subtle dacryphilia

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i am on season ten of twd (my first time watching) and it feels like this man's clothes keep getting tighter and tighter each episode and i am so here for it. also the way his arms magically always glisten in the sun as he subtly flexes when the camera is on him? give me a break I BEG

Also I miss Rick very much 🥺

*

"i have a special request. if i'm allowed to do that." a playful voice calls behind you.

you turn around, squinting. the sun is high up in the sky, and right in your eyes. you make out carol's short hair, and nod at her as a sign to keep speaking.

"i'm gonna need something i can make cookies or cakes with. hazelnut, chocolate, almonds,... you know. cake stuff." the woman smiles.

"i'm going out for ibuprofen and possibly viagra, not chocolate."

"viagra? for who?"

you chuckle under the cap rosita has given you, and try to subtly glance over at the man loading the car with weapons. he grunts, glaring at you and instantly shutting down the bullying party you wanted to start.

"i don't need no damn viagra." he slams the trunk door shut, and walks past you, intentionally pushing his shoulder into yours.

you fall a step back, holding in a laugh. carol has her hands on her hips, but her laugh isn't hidden. she knows daryl can't say anything to her.

"oh, come on. i know that you like to stay quiet and mysterious, but a little joking in hard times never hurt anybody." the woman defends you, scrunching her eyebrows at daryl.

"it's hurting me." he yells from the car, slamming the door shut.

"how am i supposed to survive this trip with him, ricky?" you complain, shoulders hanging with rising irritation with the situation.

"you survived a walker flooded prison with nothing but an axe before you found us on the other side, and you're telling me you can't survive a grumpy old man for a few hours?"

"thing is, i killed walkers. i cannot kill him. boo-hoo, the precious tracker. i also, when i see a footprint on the floor facing a certain way, know that someone is headed there. wild, right?"

rick pats your head, messing up the cap in the process just to tease you.

"bring me some shirts on the way back, i'm getting sick of these flannels. and get yourself something nice."

one would think that he gave you his credit card to buy him those shirts at the nearby mall. telling you to get yourself something nice, that idiot. the less fun truth is that you are headed towards a landfill two hours away from alexandria, in hopes of finding anything. glenn and morgan haven't had any luck for a few days now, so rick decided to change the route and the team. daryl and you, apparently, make a great one. that pain in the ass of a man.

"i'm leavin'. you stay and talk 'bout me all you wan'. i'm the one actually doin' something for this place."

"stuck up much? see," you open the car door, sitting inside annoyed, "with the viagra, you'd be a much more pleasant person to be around."

"enough with the damn viagra. fuck's the matter with you?"

"god, just start driving and drop me off somewhere in the middle of the road and i'll find my own shit from a different place. rick doesn't need to know."

"no," he simply responds, not sparing you a glance.

rick waves at you with a smile on his face, knowing damn well what he did putting the two of you together for such a long quest. he's so going to hear from you tonight. if you make it out alive while trying to kill daryl.

"so, what are you hoping to find? booze, peanut butter, new clothes? i'm starting to think you stapled those clothes to your body."

he says nothing, eyes focused on the road. you sigh. maybe you're the problem. you're poking him too much, knowing he has zero patience and doesn't very much like your company. you decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive, only occasionally glancing over at him out of boredom.

you can't lie, he is an attractive man. you don't know why you're mean to him. he is gorgeous to you, your taste in older rugged men not failing you. you're surprised rick isn't the one you fell for. but next to daryl, he looks too... neat. daryl is just perfect. most of the time his deep raspy voice has you subconsciously rubbing and squeezing your thighs, led by a tingling sensation in your lower stomach. his clothes have recently gotten very tight on him, the buttons of his black shirt threatening to pop and give you a view of your lifetime. he has been working out a lot, you've seen him. fuck, not only have you seen him, you also stayed there, secretly snapping pictures with your polaroid your father had left you before disaster struck. you only had a few films left, yet no self control. something about seeing daryl all sweaty as he did push ups, grunting and almost moaning, thinking that nobody can see him, did things to you.

"wha'?" he asks, sensing your intense gaze.

you turn your head away, flushed. "nothin'."

"mmh."

he keeps it short and stern, and if your panties weren't drenched as your brain replayed the memory of his glistening arm muscles, you'd probably make a sassy remark. he raises an eyebrow, probably also wondering why you aren't being mean for so long now.

"shoes." he says after some time.

"what?" you ask, absent-mindedly staring into the tall trees and the walkers hidden among them.

"i'm hoping to find some shoes. it's gettin' hard to walk in these. i also hope i find sum more arrows."

you nod, surprised that he has actually graced you with an answer. you thought he'd say something like cigarettes or alcohol. you hated people who smoke. but daryl is an exception. he looks damn hot doing it.

"you?" he asks.

"well, new underwear would be nice. i ripped all my good panties, and let me tell you, these thongs are not apocalypse friendly."

"shit, girl, oversharing much?"

"what, you disgusted by female underwear?" you poke back, playfully.

"not female underwear. your underwear."

you're offended. you squint at him, and have to fight the urge to smack the back of his head.

"for your information, you don't look or smell all flowery and fresh yourself. i could use your hair to grease up carol's tray for her cakes. and your fingernails? they have their own ecosystem at this point."

and back to the bickering it is. he grunts again, furrowing his eyebrows. he secretly glances at his fingernails. indeed, they had a layer of dirt under them, but daryl thinks that he has bigger issues than some dirt that will get washed off anyway.

"oh, i also wish to find-"

"yeah, lost interest." the man interrupts. "also, for future conversations, you do not mention your... thongs... to people that are ol' enough to be your father."

ew.

ew.

ew.

he did not.

"what, is that how you see me? you could be my father?"

how utterly disappointing. there you were, sitting next to him, imagining him going feral between your legs, all while he is viewing you as his child. there goes your masturbating material for tonight.

"well the age fits the description."

"fuck you. seriously." you sigh, turning your body towards the window so you can fully ignore him.

arriving at the gates, you immediately notice a few things that you will be taking home. how foolish of you to not take a truck instead of the crusty old car.

"watch it." just as he says it, an arrow passes by your head, followed with a loud thud.

you don't have to look back to know that a walker had managed to sneak behind you, while you were foolish enough to stay swooning over his arms glistening in the sun with sweat.

"damn it, girl, i don' know what it is with you, but you gotta snap outta it. i can't keep saving ya ass."

"yes, dad." you reply, annoyed.

"hey." he calls, hand reaching to cup your jaw and turn your head towards him. "shut it before i make ya."

if it weren't for the feeling of his rough hand on your face and his raspy voice sending you a warning turning you on, you would've slapped him and told him not to touch you. but oh, you were going crazy inside. you found a new way to push his buttons, and you're going to have so much fun with it.

you walk behind him into the landfill, the smell of junk pinching your nose. daryl is also bothered by it, seeing his scrunched expression as he scanned the first piles of garbage.

"there." he points his crossbow a certain way.

you follow the invisible line, your eyes landing on what seemed to be several taped boxes. they could have three things inside: food, weapons, or traps. weird how nobody has discovered this place yet. or maybe they have, and they took all valuables already.

daryl doesn't wait for you. he makes his way towards the boxes, keeping his crossbow ready if something goes wrong. you, on the other hand, have tucked your knife safely and are walking around like there isn't walkers scratching at the fence, waiting to sink their teeth into your skull.

"dammit."

you hear rattling. you turn around, only to find the man kicking the boxes angrily. the can he has just thrown on the floor rolls up to your feet, and you crouch down to examine it. it is food, but expired. eating it would be like playing russian roulette.

"i mean, we can still... ya'know, take it with us. what happens happens."

"dixon, if i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die from a bullet or a bite. not from a rotten macaroni."

he raises an eyebrow at you, amused with your laid back attitude. he doesn't give you much attention, just silently walks next to you while scanning his side of the landfill.

"ah, sweet!" you cheer, running towards a pile.

"wha'?"

you almost trip over the broken wooden chairs, trying to get to a certain little box in the pile.

"the hell are ya doin'? we're losin' time!"

your eyes instinctively roll at his voice. you know he has nothing smart to say. finally reaching the box, you jump back on the floor, eagerly opening it. seeing that the item still has the foil sealed on it, you victoriously raise it in the air, cheering.

"you have made it a goal for yourself to die today, didn't ya?"

"nah, not anymore. i found something that will keep me occupied and will fuel my will to live a little longer."

you continue your way forward, leaving daryl to stare at the box you have discarded, trying to figure out what it is. but he has decided he has no time for your immaturity. he needs to ask rick to not ever put him with you on a hunt again. he's lost a lot of time already, and hasn't found a single thing to bring back.

"clothes." you point, the pile of fabric sitting on top of a garbage hill.

"you gonna go get 'em?"

"why would i go? you go."

"you wanted your... thongs... so, you go get that."

you scoff, setting the newly acquired item on the ground and slowly climbing up the hill.

"what is this, anyway?" his curiosity wins.

you sit on top of the pile, examining the clothes and discarding the ones with holes in them.your eyes dart to the man below you, and you chuckle when you see him crouch and take the item in his hand.

"it's a wand."

"wand?"

"yes."

"for?" he keeps pressing, his eyes never leaving the pink gadget.

"masturbating."

thud.

you look down, mortified. he better not break it.

"careful with that, what's the matter with you?!"

"you're fuckin' crazy, girl."

you silently mock him, sticking your tongue out at him and repeating his words with exaggerated face expressions. he really gets on your nerves. you gather the clothes you have found into a bed sheet, tying it up and putting it over your shoulder, then pick up the gadget from the floor. it seems alive, it didn't break. you only hope it works. you're young, inexperienced, surrounded by people that are either too young or too old for you. though, the old part never was a problem for you, it was for them.

feeling bored, you decide to keep poking him. he is just so grumpy, and silent. and inviting to irritate.

"so, dixon, you've never heard about one of these?" you wave the gadget in front of his face.

he spares you a glare, and continues walking.

"come on, we're talking. nobody's around. tell me, since all of this started, how many times have you even approached a girl? do you even mastu-"

"'m not in the mood to be picked on right now."

"i'm not picking on you. i promise. just trying to converse."

"you want to be useful? hold this. it's in my way." he throws his vest at you, now only wearing a tight black t-shirt.

you scowl at him, shoving his vest into your backpack.

"you're so fun to be around. i get why rick put us together."

he grunts, leaving you behind. rolling your eyes, you go down a different path, hoping to find something useful to all of alexandria and not just you. turning a few lefts, you find yourself standing in front of a little shed like structure. you bang on the door with your foot, and when hearing no growls, you bravely enter. it is dusty and dark, with a singular armchair and a few cupboards.

you open each one of them, happily shoving all the food you managed to find into your backpack, opening a protein bar along the way and chewing on the oats and dried fruits. you missed having those with yogurt for breakfast.

not only will carol be happy with the amount of nuts and flour you have found, rick will be proud of you. you might even ask for a reward when he sees the amount of canned tuna and jam you have found. you forgot what pancakes taste like.

after clearing the room, you peek out the window. daryl is in the distance, going through piles and kicking stuff out of his way, as if playing. you've collected way more than him, and the sun is at it's highest point. the shaded room seems like a perfect place to take a nap, or just rest your feet and ears from him.

you plop on the armchair like a star washed up on the shore. it feels so lonely lately. rick has michonne, carl has enid, rosita has her boytoys, even gabriel might be having more fun than you. as wrong as it was, you stay up listening to the noises coming across the street. they're loud, there's no way you could ignore them even if you wanted to. even rick had to step in and ask them to be quieter. but what is a problem to someone else is a solution for you. is it wrong to touch yourself while listening to someone else fucking? yes. but is it the only way that works for you? also yes.

you eye up the toy that peeks from the backpack, then glance out the window. daryl is busy with his crossbow, having found something that he could use on it.

fuck it.

you unbuckle your pants, not bothering to take off the panties. your fingers are quick to pop the batteries that come with the package in the gadget, and when the lid clicks, you admire it for a second. there it is, in all its glory. waiting to be abused every day by you, until you find a replacement. hopefully a softer and live one.

taking off the thin protective foil from the head, you position yourself on the armchair. you glance at the window again, carefully monitoring daryl. now, if you thought that eavesdropping and touching yourself was bad, what was this? watching daryl's fingers work on his crossbow, arms glistening in the sun, all while the pink toy softly vibrates on your pulsating clit.

you sigh at the newfound pleasure, rubbing the toy up and down your slit, while your eyes stay focused on the man unaware of your situation. he probably even forgot about you. or is thankful that you have left him alone. even better for you. you get to be a pervert without him ever knowing.

you arch your back, throwing your head on the backrest as you focus on chasing the release. it's been awhile, it won't take you long. your eyes open again, just enough to see if the man is still in his spot. your fingers change the vibration strength on the gadget, and instantly, you gasp. it is so intense, and so much, but you don't want it to stop. this thing is your new best friend, you better get used to it.

something else peeks out of the backpack, the leather catching your attention and giving you an idea. like an animal in heat, you grab the vest, burying your nose into it and spreading your legs further. daryl's scent takes over your senses, making you lose control and become a moaning mess. you are getting wetter by the second, the toy now slipping up and down your slit with ease and giving you maximum pleasure.

"fuck- daryl-" you can't help but gasp, enveloped in his manly scent and fabric.

your hips hopelessly rub against the toy, chasing and chasing after something that isn't quite getting closer, even though it feels like it.

"the hell?"

your eyes widen at the interruption. you drop the vest in your lap, hiding the crime scene from him. the man stands at the door, expression unreadable. yours is one of horrified mixed with desire, the way he stares down at you angrily sending arrows to your core.

"daryl- i- did you, uh, find anything?" you try to play it off, foolishly.

"yeah. i found an animal in heat it seems. couldn't wait for alexandria to do that shit?"

"I-"

"is that my vest?"

he slams the door shut, leaving you two in darkness. you gulp, moving the gadget from your core and letting your panties fall back in place.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry-" you stutter, failing to put a sentence together while he intensely glares at you.

"ya ain't sorry." he grunts. "ya know why i despise being around your ass? you're inappropriate."

"no, look," you try, but he points a finger at your face, making you close your mouth.

your eyes burn, tears announcing their arrival.

"it's not like that-"

"shut up, dammit! i'm talkin' now! do you have any idea in how many uncomfortable situations you've  put me? all those snarky dirty comments, all that flirting, now this? do you understand what that does to me?!"

he's yelling, frustrated and angry with you. but why are you getting wetter? why can't you think rationally? he is scolding you for being inappropriate, and you continue to be even more inappropriate by sexualising simple yelling. not your fault he looks damn hot while he does it, though.

"you're- you're half my age. i can't allow myself to play your games, no matter how tempting."

what?

"what will alexandria think? they already have no good opinion on me. engaging with someone half my age the way you want me to engage is- it is a horrible idea. i'll be out faster than i was in."

silence swallows the room. you still lay on the armchair, half naked with his vest covering you. he paces around the room, fingers running through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. you think whether it's time to finally say something, but you wait another moment. you need to gather your thoughts too.

tempting, he said. so he thought about it too. he saw past your jokes, and has been controlling himself so well. if only you knew what it would take to shatter that control, even for just a moment.

"since when do you care what other people think?" you start.

"since rick chose to trust me."

you hum, understanding.

"listen-"

"so you've been thinking about it." you're the one to interrupt now.

his head snaps up, looking at you with his eyebrow raised, as if asking you where you're going with that statement.

"there's nothing wrong with it. it's not like we're getting married or something."

"i'm older than you. way older than you."

"so?"

"i could be your father."

"if you say that word to me one more time i swear i will turn this landfill upside down to find another sex toy to shove up your asshole."

"why do you get so triggered by it?"

you roll your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. you press your thighs together, missing the warmth and buzzing from earlier. fun killer.

"because."

"why?"

"doesn't matter."

"tell me," he presses further.

you finally look at him, frustrated. "because i have fucking daddy issues and the thought of you being so much older than me turns me on. there."

you get up from the armchair, putting his vest on so that you can cover yourself. it almost reaches your knees, hiding your body from his gaze. he says nothing, and does nothing for a few moments. you have your back turned to him, hands resting on the counter of the half chipped kitchen cabinet. your head hangs low with embarrassment from the confession that just left your mouth.

tears stream down your cheeks, luckily hidden by your hair. but daryl doesn't miss the little sniff that comes your way. he sighs, then paces around the place a little more. when you don't hear him anymore, and finally face the fact that nothing will be the same with him anymore, you dare turn around. you almost gasp when you come face to face with him, his chest pressing against yours.

"wha- what are you-"

"shh..." he hushes you, eyes roaming your face.

you aren't sure what to do, or what he wants to do. if he tries to comfort you by giving you a hug, you will break down. and you will never face him again. you thought it was only sexual, but the way he looks at you and hushes you as you cry is awakening new emotions inside of you. ones that you will push down for now, because it is not the time.

"daryl, i'm sorry." you hiccup, genuinely feeling sorry for ruining whatever you had with him.

you feel his hands on the back of your thighs, and before you can react, he picks you up and places you on the counter. you instinctively spread your legs, letting him in closer.

"don't be. or else i might regret this."

you look at him doe eyed as he places his hand on your neck, gently holding you just beneath your jaw and softly pressing into the sides of it. he brings his head close to you, eyes half closed as he stares at your lips.

"daryl." you whisper, not sure of this anymore.

"just hush."

and with that, he presses his lips into yours, softly moving them with rhythm only known to the two of you. his other hand caresses your thigh, then creeps to your bottom and pulls you to the edge of the counter, enough to have your crotch press against his.

you can taste your tears while you kiss him, and he probably can too. he doesn't say anything, hell, you even feel him twitch between your legs. you grind on him, unable to control yourself. it is different than the wand. it's warm, and it responds back. it's better.

"hey," you call, slowly pulling away. "i don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me or something like that. are you doing it because of that?"

"nah."

before you can continue bombarding him with questions and overthinking, he places his lips back on yours, this time a little rougher than before. you open your mouth, tongue eager to taste him properly. and fuck, he tastes good. you hated cigarettes and alcohol, but from his mouth, you adore it. you finally give in, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly close. finally.

it doesn't take long for him to have you whining and grinding on him, wanting more than just kissing and thigh grabbing and occasional choking. you beg into his mouth, quietly at first, but with each kiss he gives you, you become louder and more demanding.

"touch me, please, please, please," you're desperate.

he smiles, for the first time in a while, and snakes his hands under your top. you hurriedly take off the vest and the top, to make it easier for him, but he pulls his vest back on your body. you are now wearing nothing but panties and the leather vest, making daryl incredibly impatient.

"ya just needed some attention, didn't ya?" he kisses your neck, his hand cupping your breast and thumb playing with the hard nub. "some sense fucked into ya to shut that mouth."

for someone that almost never talks, he is quite the talker now. and you can't complain, when his words have you clenching around nothing down there.

"needed someone older to take care of ya."

you moan at his words, spreading your legs further and raising your hips into his crotch. his hand reaches down to your panties, landing a light slap on your clothed clit as a warning. there's growling outside of the shed, but not enough to make you care. you'll get what you want, and no amount of walkers will stop you, even if it'll be your last.

daryl moves your panties aside, pulling away from you to see you. he hums, thumb coming to contact with your clit and circling it a few times. you shake under his touch, throwing your head back. it isn't something you haven't done before, but the touch is foreign, and different. his fingers are rough and big, an opposite of the soft flesh of your clit. he rubs your slit up and down, enough to smear your arousal so he can touch you better.

"fuck..." you trail, grabbing the edges of the counter and digging your nails into the hard surface.

"didn't find a boy your age to open you up?"

you shake your head. he hums again, fingers now circling your tight entrance.

"that's a shame, then. i'm gonna have to take my time with you."

"what? why?" you ask, disappointed.

"i'd split you in half, little one."

every word in that sentence sent arrows to your core. fuck, just how big is he?

"then, what are we doing?"

he turns around, leaving you yearning for his touch while he grabs your discarded toy from the armchair.

"you share toys?"

"sometimes."

"good."

he pulls himself out from his pants, and you are left with your jaw dropped. it fuels his confidence, the way you're staring at him as he rubs himself up and down. he isn't big. he's huge.

"daryl, how will that fit in me?" you ask, actually concerned.

"it'll take a little time. i'll train ya, and you'll take it like a good girl, the way i teach ya. but ya have to start listening to me and stop pissing me off."

nodding eagerly, you push your hips towards his hands, searching for his touch again.

he turns the gadget on, pressing it against your clit. you moan out loud, grinding on the buzzing toy and sliding with ease. you hear him grunt, and even a quiet moan. your eyes drop to the situation between your legs, and when you see him pressing his cock to the gadget, you swear you could squirt all over him. he rocks his hips with yours, pushing you up against the wall and grunting in your mouth, just like you moan into his. he doesn't break eye contact with you, instead getting off on it.

"i'm gonna cum, daryl." you whine, hands reaching into his hair to pull.

"give me a second."

you'd give him two if he wanted. you try your hardest to focus on not yet cumming, but the way he sweats and grunts for you doesn't make it easy.

"daryl-" you warn, moans becoming high pitched and inviting the walkers around the shed.

he sticks two fingers in your mouth, keeping you silent and helping himself get closer. you only needed to swirl your tongue around him a few time and take him all the way to his knuckles to have him moaning and cumming all over your stomach, rubbing the toy up and down in a sloppy pace.

you follow, pleasure washing over your body along with a thin layer of sweat, the sight of his seed on you making it more intense. you are dehydrated, hot and filthy. and you love it, because he is the same. you'd be like that every day, if it meant getting him the way you just had him.

"you didn't have to..." you say as he helps you dress up, wiping his seed from you with his bandana and discarding it.

"i wanted to. before, today, too."

"you sure?"

"yes."

you nod. he sees that you are not convinced, and he sighs. he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i rarely regret my actions. trust me."

"yeah, well, i hope i'll get more of these actions you speak of."

he chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you know, for someone who just came all over me, it's weird to see you so sentimental and comforting."

you don't even finish the sentence, he already playfully throws the bandana at you, rushing outside to hide his smile and to hide from your attempt at attacking.

"oh, you- you- you asshole!"

"right back at ya."

***

yippie! my first twd oneshot, idk how to feel about it lol. had this in the drafts for a while now. feel free to send feedback, doesn’t matter if it is good or bad 🩷

[cloudyskydreams]

Heeyyyy can I request how would skeletons would react if the reader walked up to them and said “oh i can take you” and they would say “in a fight right ?” And the reader is just smiling silently how would they would react?

Hii I know you as the resident papyrus lover lol. Thanks for requesting sorry it took so long to get to it! This one was fun and Blues kinda got away from me lol. My cat would NOT stop bothering me for pets while writing this,

Undertale:

Sans:Laughs it off. He gets what you mean and he thinks it's pretty funny. "heh that's funny kid" Might blush lightly as he imagines it for a second and it's kind of out of nowhere depends how much you caught him off guard with it.

Papyrus: Has absolutely no clue what you mean. "TAKE ME WHERE HUMAN?" Just stands there confused as you smirk at him. You gotta be a bit more vulgar to get this one flustered he's a little oblivious y'all.

Underswap: Blue: Absolutely understands what you mean but pretends not to because he thinks it's funnier. "I WOULD BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO TRAIN WITH YOU!" He's got a innocent look on his face but he'll definitely remember how sure you sounded about how you could take him when he has you pinned underneath him begging.

Stretch: It takes him a second but he chuckles and gives you his best flirty look as he blushes carrot orange. "im sure you could honey" he's a bit flustered as he wasn't expecting it and thinks about the scenario the rest of the day.

Underfell:

Red: Also takes him a second but he smirks big when he gets it and gives you a hungry look "ya wanna find out if ya can doll?" He's 100% taking that as an invitation the horndog he is and will be more than happy to see if you really can take him.

Edge: He rolls his eyelights but smirks and pulls you closer. "Are You Sure About That Pet?" he whispers right in your ear causing you to shudder. He gently nips your earlobe before he takes a step back and simply walks away leaving you in shock.

Horrortale:

Axe: Has to think about it for a solid minute before he's chuckling. More than willing to take you in a fight or bed. "heh I dunno bout that… lamb" he thinks you're cute approaching him and saying that outright. Definetly writes this interaction down in one of his journals and chuckles over it when he reads them over.

Willow: A bit more aware than Papyrus so he gets what you mean and his entire skull flushes pale range. "Oh…" A little surprised you'd want him in general he's flustered, shocked, honoured, and a little bit horrified all wrapped in one. Quickly absconds but is lost in thought thinking about the interaction the rest of the day.

the fiend herself

[kaialone]

Double-Edged (?)

I got distracted by this while I was thinking about something else, but-

When you look the shapes Paracelsus takes in Strive when A.B.A's Jealous Rage is active, obviously it seems like the "blade" part of his body is reverting to a more ax-like shape and all:

(there's a lot to talk bout here, but for now let me just focus on the thing that distracted me)

What caught my interest is that when you look at the blade part, it definitely looks like there was half of it broken off, like it's supposed to actually be a symmetrical, double-bladed battle ax:

Now, since Paracelsus' shape is constantly changing, obviously this might not be representative of any physical damage that literally happened, and could instead be a symbolic representation of something, but

I kinda like the idea now that Flament Nagel started out as a double-bladed ax, and half of it was broken off at some point over the course of his history, like maybe all the way back when he was still an actual lifeless ax, or maybe as late as during his first battle with Slayer?

I dunno, that's just one possibility, of course.

Just kinda continuing from that train of thought while I'm at it, I'm sure a lot of folks already know that "Moroha", (the name of the berserk state that A.B.A and Paracelsus would enter in the past games,) actually translates to "double-edged".

When Testament says this during A.B.A's Strive arcade mode, they actually use that same "moroha" wording in Japanese, making a fun little reference to the mechanic:

Obviously that name, "double-edged" is also like, alluding to the "high risk, high reward" nature of the mode back in the day, since the resources to use it were limited, and it actually drained A.B.A's HP (which could only be replenished if you knew how to play it well)-

but with what I talked about above in mind, it's also kinda interesting to think about how that name is applied to fighting with an ax that's actually single-bladed.

This is now going into full "just my own thoughts" territory, but looking at it from this additional angle, I kinda like to think that, metaphorically, it's like A.B.A herself is now the second blade, so to speak-

Both in the sense that she provides an extra means of attack and defense, and has a certain restoring/healing influence on Paracelsus, but also in the sense that she introduces another risky, potentially self-destructive element to the balance again.

[puck-bunnies]

curious

nico hischier x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, pure word porn, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), cum shot?, dirty talk, praising

“good, lovin, feel so, numb. ride me, till i’m, bout to, cum. i see, you are, bout to, clim-ax. so, oh girl, don’t be shy.”

word count: 1.7k

♪ - wus good/curious, partynextdoor

nico’s long fingers hook in the crotch of my panties, moving them to the side so that i’m easily accessible. they run up and down my folds, my wetness coating the pads of his fingertips. “oh god, you’re so wet for me.” he husks into my ear, his hot breath brushing past my neck making my hairs stand up.

his other hand grips my waist harshly, fingers pressing against my skin in a bruising way. soft whimpers release from my mouth before i bite down on my bottom lip, hushing myself. “only for you.” i say between my teeth.

nico hums, pressing a harsh kiss to my neck, sucking the spot he knows is most sensitive. my heart beats in my chest like a drum, body begging to be filled by nico. i feel like i'm about to crumble by his touch, his lips leaving marks down my neck down to my collarbone.

"please nico." i find myself begging, his thick fingers continuing to toy with my dripping folds. he smirks against my skin, raising himself up to look into my blown pupils. my cheeks don't hide the blood rising to my skin, a flush of embarrassment flooding my face.

nico starts to slowly slide his middle finger into my aching hole. my hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as his knuckles hit my skin. he moves his finger into a curl, hitting a spot not even i can reach. i have to fold onto his shoulder as he slides another finger in with the next pump, burying my face into the crook of his neck.

his hands stop moving, fingers staying still half inside me causing my hips to try to lower myself onto them. he moves his fingers out of me, leaving me completely empty. "you're going to have to look at me if you want it." he whispers down into my ear.

i let out a groan mixed with a moan as i straighten myself up, looking straight into nico's darkened eyes. he smirks, "good girl." he whispers, slowly sliding two fingers back into me, earning a harsh gasp to leave my lips. "wasn't so hard.. now was it?" he teases in my ear.

my hands grip nico’s shoulders harder as his fingers some how get deeper making me squeal. i never even knew these spots inside me existed, but god i love the way he’s hitting them. incoherent moans spill out of my mouth as my guts feel like their on fire.

as i feel a knot in my stomach tightening, nico removed his fingers once again, causes a whimper to leave my lips. “come on baby.” i whine to him, watching as he slips the two fingers into his mouth. sucking all of me off of his fingers, keeping his eyes on mine the whole time.

“be patient.” he husks, quickly manoeuvring us to be able to pull his boxers down his thighs just enough for his hard cock to spring out, hitting his abdomen before coming down to hit my clit. my hole clenches, waiting for the cock in front of me to bottom me out once again.

nico takes the base of his cock in his hand, running the pre-cum soaked tip along my wetness. finally pushing into me getting a stretched out moan from me.

he brings me up from my sitting position, hands firmly gripping my hips and helping me push down against his length. long groans mix through the room from both of our mouths. once i’m bottomed out on nico’s cock my walls squeeze around him, feeling every familiar vein, bump and curve of him.

i’m addicted to the way he stretches me out, when i’m all the way down him and his tip hitting unimaginable places. i can’t move for a moment, letting myself adjust to his impeccable size before i can even think about moving my hips in anyway.

once i finally feel ready to move, i start slow. grinding my hips back and forth, hitting all my sides perfectly. my limbs tighten, jaw clenching as i start to quicken my pace. nico’s hands start to control my hips, pushing and pulling me back and forth. curses push pass my lips mixing with the moans coming from deep in my chest.

i slow the pace on my hips, starting to pick them up instead of grind them. feeling nico’s length slowly slip out of me, my juices coating the base of his cock as it begs to be covered by my warmth again. i go up so much it feels like he could fall out of me anytime, before that can happen i slide back down him all the way to his base again.

nico bites his bottom lip, staring down at my pussy as if take all of him back inside of me. i roll my hips back slowly before going back up for a second time but faster. his fingers squeeze my full hips so hard that bruises will litter my skin tomorrow, but i don’t care, all i need is him.

his eyes flutter back up to mine, pupils blown out in pleasure and filled with lust. a smirk comes onto his face as he guides my hips back down harshly, our skin lightly slapping as my ass meets his thighs. the fast stretch of him coming back into me makes me squeal and throw my head back slowly.

he continues to take control, maneuvering me back up and down his almost painfully long cock quickly. "you look so pretty." nico whispers in my ear, softly nipping at my earlobe. "taking my cock so nicely." my moans double with his words, encouraging me to help him quicken my pace.

my hands run from his shoulders up the back of his neck, softly pulling at the short hairs. combing up to tug on his longer dark hair, forcing his head to look up at me. nico's hand drops down to my ass, kneading my flesh with the palm of his hand. he gives me a light smack at first, i whimper in enjoyment. "you like that?" he smirks, causing him to add another harsher one on the same cheek.

i mumble to answer his question, my mind too scrambled to give out words. “i’m going to need words baby.” he slows my hips, forcing me to stop half down on his cock. i can see that me not moving anymore is hurting nico too, all he wants is for me to keep riding him, but he keeps his act up.

i try to stand my ground, but it’s no use, finding myself begging for him to fill me up again. “it’s so good nico!” i yell out quickly, grinding my body back down his length.

he lets out a soft degrading chuckle at my begging, his ego slightly boosting as my insides beg for his shape. nico slams me back down him, causing me to scream out curses. i suck my lips into my mouth, sharply biting down to silence my loud moans.

“come on baby, scream for me.” he lands another harsh slap on my ass, red handprints starting to appear on my sensitive cheek. i let my lips unbuckle from my mouth, leaving my quick paced moans to rush out of my mouth.

every time i get slammed back on nico's cock, i roll my hips back and forth before moving back up again. i can feel my walls clench around him every time, memorizing every single curve of him inside me.

except for when my stomach tightens to an unbearable pressure where i can't even lift my hips up anymore. settling down on his lab and rolling my hips back and forth, feeling him start to twitch inside me. we both chase our orgasms, our chests rising in sync as we take in the oxygen our highs chase.

i get so hungry for my orgasm, moving my hips in unrhythmic and sloppy patterns. "oh, just like that." nico praises in my ear. my hands grip his hair harder, pulling at his roots as i can feel myself coming undone above him.

"i'm so, so close nico." i whimper. i can tell that he's close as well, his breaths and groans becoming deeper and closer together.

i can't take it anymore, my guts crave to undo as my orgasm crashes into me. "let it out baby. make a mess on my cock." he snarks out.

his words are all it takes for me to finish, letting myself unwind above nico. my back arching as my hips start to slow, nico gripping them to move them along again, letting him chase his own orgasm. it doesn't take him long, quickly pulling himself out of me, pumping himself a few more times. squeezing his tip softly as ropes of his cum start to spay over my stomach, running down my flesh to drip down to his thighs.

"you did so good baby." nico praises once again, letting me fall onto his shoulder to catch my breath. his cold hands rub up and down my hot skin making a deep breath fall from my chest.

nico lets me calm down, letting my nerves reset and breaths become even again. he then helps be off of his lap, laying me down on the mattress. "lets get you cleaned up." he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to my temple before disappearing into the bathroom.

a few moments pass before he returns with a wet washcloth, resting between my thighs, guiding them apart so he could clean up our mess. "you look so pretty." his fingers brush my folds before replacing them with the cloth, wiping away the remains of my orgasm.

nico's fingers rush up to my stomach, swirling his fingers in his own cum that lays on my skin. quickly wiping it away to leave me clean. he throws the washcloth into the hamper, laying down beside me in the bed, pulling me into his warmth.

i rush to get the covers over us, protecting us from the harsh cold air that leaves goosebumps on my skin. my eyelids become heavy, sleep creeping up on me, and my body begs to be taken by it. he combs his fingers through my hair, letting my body become completely relaxed.

[deepestnightcolor]

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Kinkmas - 7th of December⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

ᴀ/ɴ: Kinkmas day 7 already! Ready to see who is waiting you behind the door? Then open up, love, they are excited to see you! Thank you so much for your time and I hope you enjoy!

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Shane (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 1328 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: physical labour, degredation, cursing, breath play/choking, raw sex, Shane has an axe, but he knows what he is doing!-

Winter wasn’t necessarily Shane’s favourite season, but it was a season where he knew what he had to do, especially now that he was living on the farm with you. Fixing fences so they would survive the snowy burdens that would soon rest upon them, making sure the barns, coops and huts were up to speed and fixing whatever was needed, from feeders, to heaters, to troughs, he fucking fixed it. Getting the boiler ready in your house so you could stay nice and warm, and, of course, one of the tasks he kept an especially careful eye out for: firewood. He always made sure to keep a pile of wood behind the house, neatly stacked, just ready to be smashed into smaller pieces and carried into the house in that basket he had gotten specifically for that reason – the perfect size to last you for two days, and easy enough to carry (at least for him). He always made sure that basket stayed full and thus making sure the house stayed warm for the two of you, especially for those cozy nights you shared in front of the TV watching cheesy Christmas movies (to be honest, Shane often fell asleep as soon as the two main characters met, but even in his dozing state his hand kept running through your hair lazily, so you didn’t mind too much).

“Gonna cut some firewood,” Shane told you as he tied up his heavy winter boots, making you look up from the bowl of dough you had prepared for making some holly jolly cookies. “Don’t you wanna take a coat, Shane? It’s freezing out there.” “Gonna get hot cuttin’ wood, don’t worry ‘bout me.” He walked past you with a tender kiss to the head and a rather sloppy smack to the ass, gripping the axe on his way out, making you roll your eyes with a small smile.

You had looked out of the window at some point to see how far your husband had come, after all, you had been hearing the rhythmic cracking of wood being split and dropped into the basket for a while now. What you saw was…certainly something to see. Your husband, with his broad shoulders and big arms stretching as he had lifted the axe, letting it come down on the piece of wood, cracking it open. Holy fuck. You could see the muscles of his arms flex despite him wearing a hoodie, and you had been pretty sure his back muscles looked just as fucking good. And again he went, placing a chunk of wood on the log, lifting the axe just to let it come down quickly. His whole body had been working, tensing up to collect its strength, just to release all of that pent-up energy at once. You hadn’t been sure how long you had been watching, and you still weren’t quite sure how you ended up sitting on that log that Shane had just used to cut wood, his long, girthy cock nestled deeply inside of your pussy, the handle of the axe pressed against your throat, pinning you right against the shed behind you. He hadn’t added enough pressure for you to struggle breathing yet, but certainly enough for you to be drooling around his fat cock. The way he was fucking you was so mean, too! Taking his time to pull his hips back, moving slowly even, just to fuck his cock right back into you with a force that made your whole body feel like you were being split like a piece of firewood. “You are so wet already, little slut- and I have barely even fuckin’ started. Did that turn you on that much, huh? Watchin’ me chop some wood? That’s what’s makin’ this cunt spew? Fuckin’ pathetic,” he growled, smacking your thigh with the hand that wasn’t holding you pinned to the wall, his dick rutting inside those squishy walls again, making you choke around a moan that couldn’t quite escape. “Kissin’ my dick, baby? You’re basically suckin’ it in, princess- fuck, you feel so good, you know that? Warmin’ me up like that, warmin’ me up with that pretty little whore cunt that I love so much- fuck, I fuckin’ love you,” he rambled, pressing the axe a little tighter when he saw that dumb look in your eyes, the one you always got when you were completely cock-drunk. He just couldn’t help himself, needed to move faster, needed to pound that pussy -after all, that’s what you had come out for, wasn’t that right? Fuck that little spiel about “wanting to bring him a hot chocolate”, he had seen you standing at that window for minutes. Had even put on a little extra show for you, flexing his arms a little more, grunting a little more heavily. And it had worked – perfectly so. “Dirty lil thing saw me work and got horny, ain’t that it? Huh? Yeahhhh, clench that dick, princess, that’s fuckin’ it, take it, fuckin’ take it all.”

His voice was edging on a snarl again, underlined by a huffed groan as he was rutting into you roughly, his hand collecting a fistful of hair to tug your head back, making you look up at him. Yoba, he was down bad for you, that fucked-out face making his dick twitch, balls pulling tight. He needed you to know how fucking much he loved you, needed you to fucking now that you were his everything, that for you, he would walk for hours to keep you warm, that for you, he’d give the shirt off his back- His thrusts turned into something more frantic, quick, hard humps that made you bounce on the log you had been placed on, the wooden handle, still warm from Shane’s hand, keeping you from yelling out his name as your pussy was ruthlessly bullied by him. But Shane didn’t need your words. He knew you, and he knew just what exactly you needed. “Fuckin’ little princess slut, being fucked out here in the cold by me, just ‘cause she couldn’t wait to get dicked down inside,” he hissed, the pressure on the handle now enough to have you struggle for air, even more so when you felt Shane’s cock twitch deep inside of you. If he kept this up, you were going to cum sooner rather than later, your head already spinning, brain short-circuiting with the fuck-induced bliss you were in. Your mouth was hanging open as you tried to let your moans, a small trail of drool dribbling from the corner of your lips, hips weakly trying to take Shane’s hard fucks. “You’re gonna cum, arentcha? Gonna cum all over my cock? Out here? Fuckin’ hell, you are dirty, slut, a dirty fuckin’ whore,” he laughed, albeit a little shaky. His thumb found your clit, giving it a mean, hard swipe, only adding fuel to the arousal you were already feeling. You were close, you knew it. And Shane knew it, too. Your thighs had started to twitch, and your cunt was already beginning to spasm a little as your breathing came out in quick and needy little puffs against the wooden handle. But just as you were about to be pushed over the edge, the pressure was gone, just like the stretch of Shane’s meaty, thick cock. “What?-,” you whined, voice a little shaky and breathless, the whiplash from being dropped from the high you had just been able to taste making you tear up, lower lip quivering. Your husband, however, seemed composed as he tucked away his cock that had just been buried balls-deep inside your still gushing cunt. “I wasn’t done yet,” he hummed, looking down at you sternly, helping you up on your feet and buttoning up your pants, wiping his thumb over your still quivering lip, collecting that droplet of drool before licking it off, “and I gotta keep my princess warm now, don’t I?”

[ohodie]

the moon ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

ECLIPSE- PROLOGUE, PART ONE, PART TWO

luke castellan x reader

ABOUT - luke invites you, the strange dionysus girl, to spar with him. luke makes a revelation, and you invite him to hang out.

A/N - hey y’all! it’s been a while!! so here i am, with an introductory chapter to a three parter luke x reader series called ‘eclipse’.

there’s not a lot happening in this chapter, but it’s important to the next chapter me thinks :P

also i think i’m sooo funny 😭 the title will make even more sense soon ok

WARNINGS - swearing n alcohol mention and that’s it

to say luke castellan didn’t like you would be a big understatement. but it would also be untrue.

the reality of his feelings towards you were much more complicated than simply ‘liking’ or ‘hating’ you.

his feelings towards you were completely incomprehensible. and he hated it.

you were just… so strange. the eldest daughter of dionysus, a talented actress, a rebellious girl with a sharp tongue and an even sharper blade. you were everything all at once; and it perplexed him to no end.

maybe that’s why your rivalry persisted throughout all these years. you made no sense, and luke needed everything to make sense. he needed everything to be predictable and understandable.

and you were neither of those things.

but there was also a comfort in the way that you consistently confused him- a sense of irregularity that provided him with the same comfort he would receive from those who were less strange than you were. maybe a bit more comfort, it fact.

it was truly comforting; the fact that you were always there to annoy and pester him when he was training, or at the campfire, or when you asked him to spar.

it was comforting knowing there was always someone there to challenge him- someone there to make him feel the same feeling over and over again… until the feeling changed.

“y/n, i need to talk to you.”

his voice echoed throughout the training grounds, alarming you enough to whip your head around fast to find the source of such commotion.

you were standing in the middle of the grounds, the remains of the practice dummies you were throwing your axe at scattered around the premises.

luke watched your hair move with the soft summer wind as you turned around to face him, no doubt in his mind that you knew exactly what he wanted.

“yeah? ‘bout what?”

your face was a little red and your arms were a little tired from your undoubtably taxing training session. if luke saw you like this a few months ago, he’d chuckle at how disheveled you looked.

but it was not a few months ago.

to distract himself from your appearance, his eyes trailed down to your hands as you tightly gripped your axe. it always freaked him out seeing you with that gnarly axe- throwing that thing around like it weighed nothing.

“hello? about what?” you asked again breathily, swinging your axe back and forth aimlessly as you tried to get his attention.

it seemed as though he had been distracted by something. something strange and pretty and unusual. and whatever it was, he needed to snap out of it before he went crazy.

“i need a sparring partner,” he stated blankly, leaning his back against the nearest pillar and letting out an exasperated breath.

“you’re the only one in camp who can give me somewhat of a challenge. anyways,” he took a good look at you, tapping his fingers against his forearm.

“i’m bored. wanna fight?”

you shrugged your shoulders, recklessly tossing your axe to the side and unsheathing your sword.

“yeah, okay,” you said dryly.

your hair fell over your face as you looked up at him, groaning in irritation at the minor inconvenience.

“hold my sword for a minute?” you asked blankly as you offered your sword out to luke for him to take.

luke looked down at you, amused by how easily you were able to ask him for a favour- even if it was just a minor one. it seemed like you were growing a lot more reliant on him these days. or maybe more comfortable with him? who knows.

“yeah, okay,” he said reluctantly, taking the sword from your hands.

he watched you in silence as you took a step back, running your hand through your hair.

“you really aren't much of a talker, are you?” he asked, smiling smugly as his eyes followed the flow of your hair.

you pulled a hair tie off of your wrist, quickly tying my your hair into a lazy ponytail.

“oh, i’m a big talker. just not with you,” you said bluntly, your voice playful and smug as you flashed him a mischievous smile.

luke liked it when you smiled. he liked to imagine that all the stars in the sky got together on the night you were born, and decided to use their stardust to construct ever feature on your face. your dainty freckles, the shining bright whites of your eyes- the pure magic of your little smile.

‘the fuck is wrong with you? stop being weird.’

you quickly took back the sword, your fingers grazing against his during the little exchange.

“i can tell,” luke commented breathily, raising an eyebrow. his eyes narrowed slightly, before he raised his sword as well.

“you ready? or are you just gonna keep standing there looking pretty?”

“i’m always ready, castellan,” you hummed, taking a few steps towards the middle of the training grounds, and getting into position.

“whatever,” he rolled his shoulders and followed suite. “on three?”

you nodded, and let your body tense up as he started counting down.

“one, two, three-“

Luke lunged forward, stabbing his sword towards your chest. He made good use of the length of his blade, keeping as much distance between you and him as possible.

despite this, you managed to quickly dodge him, your sword clanging against his as you bit down on your lip. you quickly attempted a shot at his waist, your eyes locked on his sword as you shuffled around.

Luke smirked as the two blades clashed together, you going for his legs and him going for your chest. he attempted another stab at your chest, and when you evaded, he kicked out to try and trip you- something he figured would throw you off, or at the very least, off-balance.

you seemed to not fall for such cheap tricks. as he backed away to create some distance between you and him, he smiled. this was exactly what he wanted.

a challenge.

he heard you groan, offering a sly smirk before watching you attempt a sneaky stab at his arm.

your hair bounced with every movement, your technique airy and light- almost unpredictable enough to make him second guess his own strategy.

you speed caught luke off-guard, taken aback by the sudden stab. he definitely wasn’t expecting that.

your fast and swift movements, paired with the excellent control of your blade made him sweat a bit. he had no choice but to back away, before lunging forward with his sword once more.

you quickly dodged his attack, the sound of blades clanging echoing throughout the area as your breaths got heavier and heavier.

you moved forwards, attempting another attack at his chest.

he quickly blocked your sword, moving in with a stab at your neck- but you were too quick. you resisted the attack, hitting his sword with yours. you shuffled around again, attacking his other arm as you took a second to study him and his movements.

you attacked him yet again, moving his blade to block. the same sounds of metal clashing against each other continuing.

your attack at his arm was successful. he’d taken a little step back at the sudden pain.

luke raised his sword for a stab at your side, attempting to catch you right in the gut—this would put you on the defensive for sure… right?

you quickly blocked his attack on my side, left with a little cut on your forearm.

luke was shocked at how easily you were able to defend yourself against him. you had been training and sparring and competing against him for years- obviously you were a talented fighter.

but luke had grown accustomed to winning. now? he felt intimidated.

like knew his arms were his weak spot, but he hadn’t expected you to realize this yourself. your counterattacks came quicker now that you’d discovered the most effective way to get him out of commission.

the two of you were now evenly-matched in the sense that neither of you could land an attack at the other, and this was starting to get exciting.

you started trying to take cheap shots at his arms and legs, pissing luke off further. it was like you cracked the code.

you were winning.

He grunted, breathing heavily. he was struggling to move against each of your quick attacks, trying to match the sheer speed and agility of your balde.

and to his surprise; he was starting to get tired.

as soon as he tried attacking you, you blocked it- hard. this caused the sword to fly out of his hand.

disarming him was much easier after he was tired and distracted.

then, you lunged at him.

you held your blade against luke’s neck as you pushed him to the ground, straddling his hips as you looked down at him.

“do i win?” you asked smugly, restraining his movements.

you had giving luke a run for his money. the best swordsman at camp was now at the mercy of your sword.

while you two were similar in skill across all aspects of fighting, you had rarely ever beaten him in a sword fight.

“yeah, sure, sure you win,” he growled, attempting to shove you off of his lap.

“now get off me.”

he looked up at you, noticing the proud smile plastered across your face. it wasn’t cocky, or smug- it was proud.

and as much as he’d hate to admit it, he was genuinely impressed with you.

you finally lifted your body off his, standing up as you twirled your sword around.

“huh. i didn’t know i was this good with a sword…” you mumbled, looking down at the blade.

luke stared up at you, rolling his eyes as he got up.

“still obnoxious as ever, though,” he mumbled dryly.

luke glanced at your sword for a moment before turning his gaze away. he walked over to his sword, picking it up off the ground and sheathing it as he turned back around to face you.

“you’re not bad. obviously,” he said bluntly, his cheeks red and his face sweaty from the challenging sparring match as he walked back over to you.

“your attacks are unpredictable. quick, agile. you have a good technique.”

you furrowed your brows, a little confused by his kind comments and praises.

“technique? i just kept my eyes on your sword and tried to get you tired enough to disarm you,” you explained, sheathing your sword.

“i’d hardly call that technique. you’re much better than i am,” you added.

that was unexpected. a compliment? or… was that sarcastic? what the fuck is going on?

you were probably just tired; that’s why you were downplaying your achievements. that’s why you were offering him praise despite his shortcomings.

“i’m probably stronger than you, but you’re much faster. agility is just as important as strength,” luke replied, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

you shrugged your shoulders, smiling smugly as you took out your ponytail.

“well, i gotta make up for my lack of raw muscles somehow,” you retorted breathily, your tone playful and your voice light as you smiled at him.

you were a child of dionysus- you weren’t supposed to be a fighter, you were supposed to be an actress. but it made sense for you to go against the grain like that. you were an unpredictable, hotheaded, arrogant, theatrical girl… who could also somehow take him in a fight.

luke tried not to gawk at how your hair fell over your shoulder as you shook your head.

as much as he hated noticing it, your hair was really pretty.

it was probably one of his favourite things about you.

luke stared into your eyes as you spoke, his gaze unwavering as he admired your sheer confidence- even when downplaying yourself.

and there it was. the same feeling that had been fucking him over everyday for the past 2 months. a feeling that he was starting to get uncomfortably familiar with recently; fondness. admiration. adoration.

you were the moon. constant, yet always changing. bright, yet most comfortable surrounded by the confines of the dark.

you were his moon.

and you were beautiful.

‘ew, stop.’

luke didn’t appreciate the new soft spot he was harbouring for a certain dionysus girl. he hated how his heart was constantly making space for her. and he hated that his brain was just as complicit.

“i mean, you don’t need to ‘make up’ for anything. muscle isn’t really that important in a sword fight,” he said, crossing his arms as he finally pulled his eyes away from yours.

you nodded lightheartedly, idly running your hand through your hair as you turned your head away from his.

gods, he could watch you play with your hair all day if he could. of course, he’d prefer to play with it himself, but watching you do it was almost as good.

“hm. i guess you’re right,” you sighed, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your shorts lazily.

“anyways, sword fighting is way too much effort. i prefer throwing axes at people.”

luke smirked, rolling his eyes playfully and he looked over at you.

“i still can’t believe you’d choose an axe over a sword.” he couldn’t help but laugh a bit, “you’re so… eccentric.”

“what do you expect? mr. d is my dad,” you said playfully, earning a reluctant chuckle from luke.

“i guess i shouldn’t be surprised,” he replied. “but seriously, who chooses an axe as their primary weapon? why not a bow or something?”

you rolled you eyes, shaking your head at the boy in disagreement.

“the arrows are too flimsy. i prefer wielding something with a bit more weight,” you explained. luke shook his head in disbelief, chuckling dryly.

“you’re so weird… who else uses an axe for their weapon of choice?” he asked out of genuine curiosity, a hint of sarcasm laced in his tone.

“and don’t say something like ‘oh, tons of people’ or something.”

“oh, tons of people,” you repeated, mocking him playfully as you took your hands out of your pockets. you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, letting out a smug chuckle.

“shut up,” luke scoffed, his usual smirk plastered on his face.

gods, it felt like his feelings were becoming more evident by the minute. he was going insane.

‘you like her, don’t you?’

the thought popped into his head again.

‘shut it out, or else it’ll get awkward.’

he wasn’t about to ruin the fun you were having.

and besides, he didn’t like you. he couldn’t like you.

you were literally the daughter of the camp director. and you were insufferable. or… well- that’s a lie. you used to be insufferable.

it seemed as though age had provided you two with a new sense of maturity; letting your rivalry calm down and allowing you two to finally get along.

and as much as luke hated to admit it, he kinda liked getting to know you. he liked spending time with you. but he always did- that’s why you two spend so much time fighting, right?

luke was suddenly snapped out of his head by the sound of footsteps hitting the floor of the training grounds. he looked up to see your back as you walked away, his eyebrows furrowing at your silent departure.

“where are you going?” he called out.

you turned around quickly, quirking your head to the side.

“the campfire, obviously?” your said, your hands stuffed in your pockets again.

“aren’t you coming?” you asked, staring him down playfully with a friendly smile.

luke’s eyebrows rose, his body freezing as he thought it over.

‘she’s mocking you.’

‘no she isn’t- you’re the leader of the hermes cabin. you have to come to the campfires, dickhead.’

‘can’t be bothered, nah.’

“i have better things to do, thanks.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood in the middle of the training grounds.

you raised your eyebrows, a little smirk emerging on your face.

“you sure? because as soon as the younger campers head back to their cabins, us older demigods are going down to the lake,” you said, crossing your arms to mirror his defensive stance.

“… and i’ve got a bottle of wine and half a bottle of vodka hidden under my bed,” you whispered as you took a step forwards, shooting him a mischievous wink.

vodka? that was enough to pull him in, even if they were supposed to have a little rivalry going. but then again, they were barley rivals anymore.

it’s not like he was big on drinking, but he was big on discarding his responsibilities- even if it was just for a few hours.

he paused for a moment, staring at you as he contemplated whether or not he should come to the campfire.

luke didn’t even care if you guys didn’t like each other that much, he still wanted to spend more time with you. besides, he didn’t see the problem in exploiting the way you guys were being a lot more civil to each other recently in order to get a little tipsy.

“yeah fine,” he mumbled, “i’ll come.”

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Thinking about a character model height sheet from the TAS BTS book that had magneto be 6’10 and charles 4’8 when seated like girl ……….. why the fuck ……. greedy….

[katkalis-the-horror-fanartist]

Whats the order of hierarchy in this au? Who's the most powerful to least powerful?

(also op that art where zoth and abducius are dancing together make me so insane/pos)

GLAD YOU LIKE THAT ONE. They have a few other things they do together too...But that's for other times 😅

These Tierlists should sum up the question. Defense Levels and Power Levels:

Then, under this cut, I'm putting the details as to why they're ordered like this! I'm also adding much needed details to be known about all these characters!

Hierarchy List (and facts)

Considering both Strength and Defense.

• Yan Luo Wang Diyu: Princess of Death. Astral Life Reaper. Brings Death. She holds complete power over her respective astral circle. All events that happen within are all orchestrated and catered by her.

• Drugia Fleuretty: Nightmare Designer. Humans have assumed that she designs clothes in the nightmare, but this is not the case. Drugia's talent is creating and designing eldritch monstrosities that reside in the Astral Circle. These creatures of fear and suffering, created by her hands (and sometimes Izanami's) send irreparable dread into many that witness them. Along with her dreadful ability, she too is rendered nearly immortal, with no known weakness. Some say that, with her knowledge and talent, she can someday destroy other Astral Circles nearby with an army of beasts from realms unknown.

• Quachil Uttaus: Misfortion Bringer. Astral Guardian. Due to their abilities, none can best them. Their misfortune is deadly, as it causes attacks to miss, injuries to become more fatal, and human organs to fail to function properly (sudden ailments such as heart attacks, strokes, etc.). Due to this, fortune absent for their opponents, Quachil's success rate for winning in a battle is set in stone as 100%. This power of Quachil's is also able to protect residents of their Astral Circle, bringing misfortune to anyone that attempts to harm any of them. As long as Quachil is aware of said confrontation. They often are, but rare cases can occur where they are fixated solely on one task.

• Chaugnar Faugn: Occultist. He controls cults circled around Yao Luo. He commands groups of her worshippers, which is already a high priviledge, yet alongside that, his defense and power are close to infinite. His weakness is undiscovered. It is said that only the Princess of Death herself can cease his life. Of course, she never will. So he reigns alongside her and is able to command her followers to defend her, himself, and her partner Orcus.

• Shub Niggurath: Famine Bringer. She is able to cause crops to be unable to grow and livestock to become malnourished and ill. Her famines can devastate entire continents of humans, and sometimes even other residents of the Astral Plane as a whole. In these cases, humans brought to the Astral Plane for soul and bodily consumption will also wither away as livestock would. Even beyond planet Earth, she is feared. Though it is believed she does have a weakness: To be decapitated by a golden axe blessed by either a god of war or a goddess of fertility and bounty. It is said however that, even if she is somehow slayed, remnants of her soul may last and continue to spawn random bouts of drought and famine.

• Zoth Ommog: Ritual Leader. Similar to the past Astral entities, Zoth is akin to a hellish god. The rituals he conducts provide many effects, defects, abilities, and assistance. Centuries ago, this sinful, lustful monstrosity was imprisoned by gods. However, Yao Luo successfully planned and initiated tactics to free him. He has since honored her and resided in her Astral Circle, providing her and her fellow residents much from his rituals. Considered the most vile entity amongst the Princess' domain, most fear him, aside from a select few admirers and slaves, whom of which Zoth marks with special sigils and engages in heretical acts with. It is said that he does have a weakness: being pierced in the heart with any golden object that has been blessed by a god of purity. This however may still prove impossible, as his heart rests within his throat, which is shielded by the very collar the gods had imprisoned him with. That, and runes he created beneath his flesh grant him many defenses.

• Teutates Taranis: Annihilator. Considered the most proficient and deadly combatant in the Princess' Astral Circle, it is said that Teutates can best any that cross his path. He, like a few other Astral Residents, has his own select group of humans and beasts that obey his commands. His subjects are marked with specific tattoos and all go through a blood pact with him. His skill in battle and talent for both swift kills and agonizing annihilations make him a formidable challenge in battle, even against other higher demonic entities. Some theorize that he has a weakness: stabbing out his eyes. Others, however, say that he is able to sense foes without sight and that this is no weakness of his. But recently, some have thought about another possible weakness of the annihilator: shooting him between the eyes with an arrow coated in a sedative. Something powerful enough to alter his brain function.

• Anazareth Anazarel: Curse Creator. After having practiced under the guidance of Yan Luo herself, Anazareth has mastered many terrible and effective curses fit for many situations. She also has a sigil bestowed upon her by Zoth in Yan Luo's will that not only increases the potency of her curses compared to others, but gave her the ability to effect even those that use magic to protect them from said curses. This sigil in turn granted her other moderate demonic powers and altered her appearance, giving her horns. She is in high enough authority to have her own followers like Zoth, Abducius, and Teutates. Her owned subjects have special tattoos on their collarbones, cheeks, or backs, and all have at least one horn as a result of them. Some say that cutting off her horns is her weakness. Other say that you must specifically burn the base of the horns after cutting them off, otherwise they may grow back. This proves difficult in idea, as she must be completely still for this to be done properly.

• Ishtar Ereskigal: Pestbringer. Similar to Shub in the aspect of affecting entire populations with food-stunting issues. Her pests range from cockroaches to rats to locusts and even mosquitos plagued with disease. Ticks, fleas, and bedbugs aren't even out of the equation. While she too can hinder farms, she can also infect households and wild environments. Her ability to devastate wildlife as well has granted her a vile, disgusting reputation. She may also use pests to assist in torture methods. It is said that her weakness is submerging her in holy water, which is already difficult to aquire in the Astral Circle. And even from Earth, it must be a decent amount.

• Abducius Morail: Mutilator. Though not as high up on the hierarchy ladder, the Mad Mutilator is heavily feared by many in the Princess' Astral Circle. His taste for agony and screams of pain lead him to be as torturous as Exael Lanithro with nearly as much battle prowess as Teutates Taranis. He takes intense euphoria and ecstasy in performing near-deadly operations and Frankenstein-esque crafts on living victims with no sedation. Even other higher-ups show slight repulsion towards him. He has some disfigured followers of his own, each one mutilated and/or branded in various ways. From skinned body parts to burned or exposed bones to body parts and organs of different animals. He has no specific weakness as he is closer to a human, but his own modifications to his body grand him decent defense, both physically and magically.

• Barbatos Barrabam: Human Hunter. Assigned an important job that benefits the Princess, Barbatos is well respected among his peers and superiors. He both speaks and acts straight to the point, always set on completing his goals with accuracy and no wasted time. Others may play with their prey, but Barbatos plays no games. They say he can see through walls. It is theorized that only being fully crushed beneath unbearable weight is enough to hault him and end his streak of humans hunted.

• Ah Puch Xilbalbá: Bone Breaker. Usually tortures mortals and disobedient slaves alongside Exael. He also often assists Abducius in breaking bones in victims in order to encourage their bones to heal improperly and become disfigured for Abducius' own enjoyment. In battle, every crunch of bones fuels him to become more violent, and once his opponent can no longer move, he may simply rip their bones out completely.

• Exael Lanithro: Torturer. Owning more twisted instruments and machines than any Astral Resident, Exael rarely runs out of torture methods for his unlucky victims. While some prefer to inflict harsh violence against their select subjects, Exael prefers more psychological and lengthy approaches, from water torture to slowly pumping victims with poison to using machines to stretch and rip victims apart. It is unknown if he takes satisfaction from his job though, as his expression rarely changes from his usual, somber look.

• Nyogtha Z'mog: Gravedigger. Though she is never often seen fighting, most if not all around her respect her. Sometimes, even humans captured and brought to the Astral Circle have minimum qualms with her. Harm against her, whether successfully applied or not, calls for instant torture. Though she has never truly proven herself in a fight, some say that she has swiftly ended the lives of those near-death with the shovel she often uses. She has also been seen using electricity to charge herself, leading to her never needing any rest, which even some superiors of hers indulge in. Her dedication to her job grant's her protection directly ordered by Yan Luo, and none dare to test to see if she is truly able to slaughter efficiently.

• Orcus Dis Pater: Skin Collector. Although nowhere near as high on the social ladder as Yan Luo, he is kept in close company to her. None have ever figured out why she keeps him so close. Orcus himself rarely speaks to others outside of the Princess' chambers, but when he does speak, those around him listen intently. Eagerly. It is said that skins he wears come from slain victims in the Astral Arena, and others have caught wind of Yan Luo working on a cloak for him. One made of 1000 skins.

• Lilith Lilitu Lilit: Witch. Brought into this Astral Circle by her best friend Anazareth. Though she has no specific assignments, she has never crossed nor annoyed the Princess, and therefore is allowed to spectate. However, recently in the past 100 years or so, she has taught herself more spells, and plans to ask for tutoring from Yan Luo, as Anazareth got.

• Izanami Yomi: Face Deformer. Her title may seem weak compared to others, but her worth comes from the fear she garners from those subjected to her ability. Her deformation powers can greatly affect the outcome of different gastly creations made by others. Whether it be carving faces for Drugia's monstrosities, sculpting faces of horror in Abducius' creations, or simply weakening an opponent by disfiguring their facial features, she has proven to not be as useless as her title makes her seem.

• Yog Sothoth: Vampire. Previously nameless before he was named by the Princess herself. He was accepted into her Astral Circle as long as he performed his designated job loyaly. His job requires him to tread between the boundaries of humans and the Astral Realm and use his looks and charisma to lure humans into being captured by his co-worker of sorts, Barbatos. It is well known that his looks are not completely of his own free will, but designed by Drugia and Anazareth as means of making him more appealing to humankind.

• Xezbet Xerbeth: Soul Eater. Xezbet shows little to no participation in Yan Luo's events. Little to nothing is known about his existence and why he has not been sent elsewhere. Some say it is because of his ability to unnerve mortals into submitting, while other say that he is only kept here to someday be harvested of all souls he has devoured.

• Dagda Crom Cruach: Soul Scarecrow. Little is known about Dagda as a whole. From his existence to his appearances in the Princess' domain. Like Xezbet, one can only hypothesize why this strange entity lurks about.

[uchu-no-bashira]

PLEASE, let me nerd out with my OG Gyomei moots.

Mod here! Long read/rant about he big guy under the cut. Tagging @himejima-san @otomesass @the-axe-and-flail IDK ANY OTHER OG GYOMEI PEOPLE, SORRY-

You know what I love about Gyomei? And bear with me, because I'm not the best writer and it's so hard for me to be normal about this man and talk about him without stimming profusely - ANYWAY.

As a person who read the manga front to back and read about the descriptions of Gyomei's breathing style, movements and fighting style on the wiki, it is so exciting to see him animated, and it confirms all f the head-canon's I had about him fighting!

Sorry if I get a little nerdy or whatever, but I absolutely love, that I was right about one thing. ONCE HE STARTS, HE CANNOT STOP. Also, his weapon is NOT JUST DEADLY TO DEMONS! He is also a danger to HIMSELF! I mean, obviously, but just think about that! It's so cool! He has to simultaneously listen to the reverberations of his chain, get a mental image of his target and attack with INSANE accuracy, All while dodging his own axe and flail.

If you go frame by frame - yes, I did because I'm a nerd and have been waiting for this moment for like 2 years or whenever the Hashira meeting episode was first aired - you can see Gyomei using the chain as a BATTLING ROPE!! THAT IS SO COOOOOLL!! (calm down mod. deep breath) THIS MEANS, that he has to maintain a constant flow of momentum. And let's face it, he has the lower and upper body strength to do it! WHICH ALSO EXPLAINS WHY HE'S SO BIG!

I wondered, from the moment I read about his flash back or any of the little tidbits about him, why he wend from being thin to being extremely Jacked. One, it's because he believes a robust lower half is essential to maintaining stability, power etcetera - and he's right, because you're (supposed) to lift any and everything with your legs.

And, if you keep watching, he uses his chain, axe and flail as Nunchaku! Meaning the more momentum he has, the deadlier the attack. AND, you'll se him do a jumping side spin, which means he is JUMPING OVER AND DUCKING EITHER CHAN THAT HE IS USING. One, to not get hurt, Two, SO THEY DON'T GET TANGLED! Because you'll see him use his neck as well.

I IMPLORE ALL OF MY OG GYOMEI STANS - if you haven't already - TO GO BACK AND WATCH THAT SCENE FRAME BY FRAME. Because it is truly amazing and I just... Ahh~ I love him and his strength and resolve! And he did it so fluently! When we saw Tengen do some of the same (no shade because Tengen is fucking amazing too) He was screaming to the top of his lungs against Gyutaro.

Gyomei just did it, like he 'bout that life. UGHSRLGL;S I cannot. There are so many other things I'm missing, but that was the one that made me do the flappy hands, internal scream combo.

[pursuitseternal]

Introducing “Love Me or Hate Me (for both work in my favour):” Enemies to Lovers, Gur!Tav x Astarion

Astairon x Tav (Katja) | E | 4k Chapter 1

Ask box fill from @thegoodwitchs-blog

Summary: Katja hates her circumstances of a tadpole in her head, but she hates him more. Gur by birth, monster hunter by trade like her people, it takes all her limited Barbarian control not to stake him in his sleep. As for him, she’s the same stock of vagrant that killed him all those centuries ago; punishing her should be fun and harmless… well, maybe just a little harmful.

CW: Enemies to Lovers, Hate sex, angry sex (DubCon?), manipulation, semi-public sex, jealousy, biting and mild choking, Act 1 spoilers

Ao3 Link | Astarion fic Masterlist

Ch. 1:Little Vagrant

Every single instinct in Katja’s body sat at high alert from the moment she met him. Since the moment he pulled a dagger on her, she should have disarmed him like her elders had taught her back in the village and staked him through the heart for good measure.

And that was before her worst suspicions had been confirmed.

Before she saw the after effects of his true nature, the morning after he bit her cleric.

Vampire… slave to sanguine hunger… monster…

Enemy.

But there were worse monsters to fight—Mindflayers. And he was too useful to dispatch, not while they had a healer to find and a Goblin camp to infiltrate and an Archdruid to save.

Katja would just have to let the monster’s undead heart keep beating at a dirge’s pace until she no longer needed him. His blades were too quick, his ferocity in battle unmatched, especially now that he could fight with knife and fang. She had to admit, it was thrilling to watch… his lithe movements, graceful and equally deadly as he fought. She understood why her people couldn’t let his kind live.

They were too powerful, too dangerous, and too beautiful.

Once, she stumbled on him bathing in the river, another gift of the tadpole to allow such a monster the ability to enter running waters without harm.

Pugh.

At first she had been revolted by the paleness of his skin and the scars on his back. It was… too disgusting for her to look away, she told herself. Too risky to leave him unobserved, unguarded. He could attempt to do anything… best to remain in hiding.

Crouching in the bushes, she heard him giggle. “Well, well, well. Our churlish leader…. You’d be a blight on your people if they knew you were… lusting after a soulless creature like me.” He turned those unnerving crimson eyes in her direction. “Likely they’d put your head on a pike just for thinking about what I look like naked, darling.” He smirked wickedly. “Tch, what a shame that would be to have one less Gur vagrant in the world.”

His lip twitched as she stood from her hiding place. Katja’s rounded human ears turned beet red in the dark, her long golden braids whipping her back as she spun on her heel and made for camp.

He won this battle. But she would win the war between them. His insufferable voice would quiet permanently someday, his shifting, crimson eyes would stare at her lifelessly. He would look so beautiful with a stake through his ribs.

He was a menace, and Katja was lucky by all the gods that he hadn’t killed her yet. She didn’t know why he had yet to drain her dry. Maybe his hunger was sated because he was drinking his fill from the Cleric every night. She rolled her eyes as she watched them each morning departing their shared tent. It made her sharpen her ax extra those mornings before battle. This day, they were headed for the Goblin camp, just beyond the village. And as they packed up camp, making their way over trails, Katja bristled as Astarion’s cold presence drew close.

“Are you alright, darling? Your pulse sounded this morning as if your feeble, mortal heat was bout to explode. I didn’t know that a Gur had a heart, much less that it could beat so childishly fast with jealousy,” he sneered down at her. Those sharp and sinister features were a good head and a half above her after all.

“Jealous? Pft,” Katja grimaced, shifting her pack on her shoulders. “Why would I be jealous of a creature with no soul, vampire?”

“It’s not my soul that interests you, I’ve noticed. It’s my body, and what I do with it…” his icy lips pressed nearer to her ear, almost touching, “and to whom I do said things…”

A dagger pressed into his ribs faster than he could draw a breath, a breath his undead body didn’t need. “Careful, monster,” Katja hissed. “Or I’ll be the one thrusting. You’ll be rammed on the point of my weapons, not unlike our poor Cleric whom you’ve beguiled.”

“She doesn't consider herself in such dire straits. In fact, she rather enjoys it. You should ask her, see what it is you’re missing out on…”

“I’d sooner skin a kobold,” she gagged. “The Cleric's choices are her own. If she wishes to sully herself with the undead, to damn her soul by feeding you her life essence, then so be it.”

Astarion paused in his tracks, laughing slowly. “Oh, I can’t tell if it would have been worth the risk to bite you instead.” He tilted his rumpled silver head, eyes assessing her every inch, noticing weaknesses in her hide armor, watching her fingers still twitching on her dagger’s hilt. “No, corrupting you and your narrow prejudices wouldn't be worth the risk of tasting your blood. I bet it’s sourer than vinegar and just as repellent.” He sneered so wide, she could almost see her reflection in the glint of his teeth.

“You try to bite me, and I will make a necklace from your teeth…” she hissed. “Once I pry them from your skull, Vampire.”

“Oh, I do like them feisty….” A single cold digit ran down her blushing cheek. Ice on her temper’s flames. A gentle caress, a lover’s touch. It made her whole frame go rigid in a second.

And it made Astarion chuckle, low and throaty as he continued on the path.

“Honestly, we could just leave the Druids and Tieflings to their own natural consequences,” the Vampire mouthed off as usual, complaining with his typical arrogance and selfishness. Leaning against the wall of the Shattered Sanctum, he gave his wicked half-smile to Shadowheart beside him.

Katja just shuffled her feet, switching the shoulder her greataxe rested on for a reprieve. “We can’t let a bunch of Goblins in league with the Absolute decimate a sacred grove,” she sneered, making that scar down the side of her left cheek twist. “But I don’t expect the Cleric of Shar and a fucking vampire to understand the sense behind it.”

Astarion raised his brow, his sinister smile turning to land on her instead. “Can’t you imagine just how wonderful the resulting chaos would be if we did?” He gave a deep and almost lewd sigh. “It would be… delicious.”

Rolling her eyes, Katja mumbled a curse in her native tongue, sure that neither of her least favorite companions would understand.

But given the way the vampire’s mouth curved down in distaste, she wasn’t so sure she was the only one in their midst to speak Gurri. Katja grimaced as she looked around the desiccated temple of Selûne, remembering all her childhood prayers to the goddess and ignoring the way the Sharran seemed to gloat at every violated shrine.

Honestly, they deserved each other, she decided with a derisive sniff. She had company enough with Gale, sweet and intelligent, and with Wyll, bold and legendary monster slayer himself.

Stuff of dreams and fantasies. The kind of man to make her tribe proud.

She should go and find him, the Blade of Frontiers, but her feet seemed frozen. If she left these two imps, what trouble would they get into… no. She needed to stay right where she was, even if it was vile and disgusting company.

“Shadowheart!” the Wizard’s voice hissed from behind a column, and all three of them turned around. Gale beckoned the Cleric forward. “We need to find where the Archdruid is being kept… but we also need to deal with a little… problem. This Priestess Gut seems to need a talking to, asking us about some brand and the worship of the Absolute. It’s your time to shine, Cleric of Shar, or… well, as a servant of the Goddess of Darkness, I guess you won’t shine so much as…”

Astarion huffed to interrupt the beginnings of another awkward and king ramble from their companion. “You can’t handle it, Wizard? Didn’t you used to fuck a Goddess and now what? Can’t handle a lowly Goblin priestess?”

“I’d be more than happy to handle this,” Shadowheart grinned. “It was getting a little too crowded in here for my tastes.” She shot a pointed glare with those green eyes towards their blonde Barbarian.

As the Cleric left with Gale, Astarion closed in on Katja, silently and stealthily until his body barely brushed her back. “You Gur always ruin all the fun,” he hissed in her ear. “Not the first time your kind has… spoiled my endeavors.”

She turned to face his glare, crimson and wroth. “I haven’t done anything to you, Vampire, not yet anyway. I’ve only found myself in the same predicament as you; such hatred for someone who could be your ally.”

“Or my sworn enemy,” he sneered, looking down this aquiline nose at her, this little Barbarian. “Don’t you have some throats to cut and innocents to swindle?”

“Or monsters to stake?” she sneered right back, unknowingly drawing her small and strong frame to stand toe to toe with him. Her face mere inches from his own, his breath washed down on her, cool and metallic in scent. And then that mouth twisted in a wicked smirk, opening to speak…

“C’mon,” a high-pitched, nasally voice giggled beside them as three Goblin children bolted past them. “That bear they captured is in the Worg pens. Bet we can make him roar!”

“Halsin,” Katja whispered, following the urchins at a distance as they weaved through the camp. She was small, but certainly not stealthy, and even as she managed to slip into the cells, the faint growls of a large animal’s rumbling in the distance, an ice cold hand shot out from behind her to pull her into the shadows.

A small storage room, just off the cell block, that’s where she was. Astarion’s hard, cold body pressed her against the wall, his finger over his lips to signal for her silence.

But her rage ignited, her nostrils flared, ready to burst. Quickly, his chilled palm closed over her mouth just in time to muffle the below of anger she gave. His frame crushed her, and that palm wasn’t enough to quiet her. Long, icy fingers closed around her throat, silencing her and shutting off her air.

Her breath ragged, she did the one thing her feral mind screamed for her to do. She bit him.

“You viper,” he hissed right in her ear. “Do you want us to get caught? Want to join the Druid in the cell?”

Katja only bit harder, struggling to fill her lungs.it made her body squirm against him, fighting to move to claw at him, but her arms were both pinned behind her back, already going numb. Writhing, she chased some unknown feeling… a blind need for release, her heart racing as her hips bucked against his thigh. His toned leg pressed harder between her thighs, the friction making her eyes tear as she struggled. She needed to break free, she told her brain, but her body, her core longed for a different release.

His laughter rumbled in her ear, the din of the dungeons thick enough to cover whatever little sounds they made in this small, neglected space. His thigh lifted her, pressing perfectly against her seam where she burned for more. Sparks of light crossed her vision, heat seared through her veins, and something pressed into her belly, something long and hard. His own icy, blood-stinking breath raced faster as he observed her grinding on his leg. And as she stared into his gaze, she watched as his eyes dilated, from crimson to black in seconds.

Shit, she cursed, unable to keep her body under command as she just squirmed more against that lean thigh and that protruding erection.

“Oh, little vagrant, you’re in trouble, aren’t you?” he hissed in her ear, rubbing that wet, cold tongue up its shell. “I can smell you, just how excited you are to be so close to your quarry. It’s a pity you chose a predator as your prey, darling. You see… you can thank the Cleric for her blood to sate my hunger, but she is rather closed off… or closed-thighed… when it comes to other hungers of mine.”

Fingers released her throat, his nails tearing into the laces of her breaches as she squirmed even harder. Cool, dank dungeon air made every hair on her now-bared mound and thighs stand on end as he tugged them down to her ankles.

“I know you want me, that you’re too proud and stubborn to seek it out for yourself. Allow me, darling, to show you what you’re miss—”

Silencing him, Katja freed one hand, launching it to close around his own scarred and pale throat.

A fang-toothed grin was his only reaction. “Oh, darling…” he rasped from beneath her knuckles. His fingers brushed the skin and curls of her mound and something untamed and hungry unleashed itself from within her. Her grip on his throat tightened, yanking that sneering mouth to hers. She wanted to devour him, to silence him and punish him in the only language he seemed to understand— the language of body and blood.

Jerking her shoulders, she freed her other hand, her nails tearing into the buttons of his own leathers. A growl in his throat, he gripped her ass, lifting her as if she were no more than a child to shove against the wall again. One hand squeezed around her mouth once more, keeping her moan muffled as he finally slotted himself inside her. The rough and ancient brick dug against her armor, padding her flesh from every jolting slap he made against her, his thrusts fast and punishing.

Air hissed through her nostrils, her dark eyes locked into his own, that crimson stare daring to do something. Kill him? Fuck him? Kiss him again? She knew not which. Her body cried out for all of them at once. Never mind the elders or the tribe or her gods.

Heat unlike anything she had known before coiled in her belly, drawn forth by his thick and cool cock inside her. Her teeth grinded into his hand again, drawing blood to coat her tongue. Making him smile. Making his tongue run over his lips, as if he barely bridled his own need to drink.

But her hand kept its place on his gullet, pushing to keep him at a distance once more. Careful not to risk his fangs and sell her soul to be his next meal.

His eyes rolled back and closed, his bone white fangs bared at her, inches from her flesh. Those thrusts grew hard and erratic, his breath whistling in time with hers. Pathetic, she grinned. The sight of him at her mercy burned itself into the back of her eyelids as pleasure burst from inside her, her body shaking as it squeezed him in wave after wave.

One last thrust and he groaned in her face, jaws snapping on air as if he wished it was her neck. Her hand gave one last punitive squeeze of his throat before she released him. Crimson eyes opened halfway, still hazy with lust. A sly snarl twisted his lips as he set her small and muscular frame down.

Disgust roiled in her belly as she ignored the way his cum leaked from inside her. No, she kept her mind on fixing her breeches, a hard task to do as she watched him do the same as he stuffed his half-softened cock inside those form-fitted leathers. Katja tried to swallow the drool that collected in her mouth as she straightened.

His hand ran through his hair, those dangerous lips parting to speak again when shouting sounded from the cells. The bear roared, iron bars clanged as then burst from their hinges and smashed to the ground. Before they could think about what passed between them any longer, monster and monster hunter grabbed their weapons and bolted towards the fray.

Gale turned, launching his magic missiles at the Goblins nearest them. “Oh good, there you both are,” he turned and fired off a few more in the opposite direction. “We thought maybe you had finally killed each other.”

“Something like that,” Astarion replied calmly, despite the smug glare he leveled at Katja. It made her ears burn beet red with hate again. But as she gripped her greataxe and launched into battle, she wasn’t sure if it was hatred more for him or for her own actions.

A few cleaving swings through Goblin flesh, and she knew it was hate for him.

For what he made her feel, for what he made her choose to do, she would hate him forever.

Wine flowed freely, but gods, what Katja would give for a flask of her tribe’s liquor, clear as glass and hotter than the Styx. Or a pint of mead. But neither was within reach. The green glass of her sweet red wine bottle pressed nearly constantly to her mouth. Anything to try to numb the feeling of his cum still dried to her thighs.

He would pay for this. But not tonight. Tonight they celebrated. Many monsters slain; many questions answered, even if those answers only gave rise to more questions. Halsin, the ancient and wise Archdruid loomed over her. More than anyone else. Gods, he could probably eat her in one bite as a bear. Good thing he was a Druid and no monster, she smiled to herself.

She let herself go numb, drinking and listening to the ancient elf talk about this Shadow Curse and the freedom of nature’s gifts… she ignored the way Astarion kept one hand on Shadowheart’s narrow waist, his face pressing into her neck where bite mark scars were beginning to form.

Trying not to gag on her wine, Katja rolled her eyes as they came closer. Halsin’s eyes scanning them all. “I should thank you all for coming to my rescue. It’s nice to be among friends. A wonderful balance to find, if surprising, to see monster and monster hunter as lovers…”

Katja spat her wine out at her feet. “How… the fuck…”

“Forgive me, my wild form tends to lend me heightened senses even in this state, and let’s just say, the nose knows, eh?”

Astarion’s eyes pinned on her, wild and accusatory. “I don’t know…” he started to shirk off the suggestion, even as the Cleric rounded on him.

“Oh, so that’s where you two disappeared to in the camp today.” Her vitriolic scoff hurt more than an arrow would have into Katja’s stomach. Actually she would have preferred the arrow. “No, no makes sense. You always claim to love a challenge, what better place to try to sheathe your little dagger than the one person who hates you.” She narrowed her green eyes at him, “I won’t worry then about keeping you well-fed or strong. Maybe I can find someone who enjoys my devotion to my lady instead of whining about your hunger every day.” The Cleric gave a nice, long, and dramatic sigh, “Well, if that’s over, I’ll be glad to save the spell slots from having to keep myself from being bloodless every day. Thank you, Katja, for doing me that favor.” The sarcasm in her tone lingered long after she strode away, losing herself in the fray of the party.

The glare that Astarion threw Katja shouldn’t have hurt at all, let alone more than the bitchy glares from Shadowheart, but it did. It was a piercing look of malice and disappointment as he strode after her, lies pouring from his thick lips to try to smooth things over.

“I… I’m sorry if that was a secret,” Halsin tilted his head as he watched the drama unfold. “Over three centuries in this realm and I can still be taken out at the knees by surprise.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Katja replied, wiping the stains of red wine from her jerkin. “It was a mistake, nothing more. I may have left with a stain on my conscience, but my soul is intact at least.” She pointed her finger at her neck. “I won’t be bitten, even if I’m fucked.”

Halsin shook his head, laughing. “I forgot how deeply superstitious your people are, little child of the Gur. To think that a vampire’s bite has any effect on your soul,” he smiled gently and chuckled, “you might feel a bit woozy, but by Silvanus’ beard, you won’t lose one bit of your warrior soul.”

Katja’s spine straightened, as if shot once again in the gut. “I’d call you a liar, but you’re a Druid…” she whispered, more fearful for own good.

Halsin’s own scarred face twisted in mirth as he gave a deep belly laugh. “Implying I can’t lie?” He chuckled harder, “a good thing that isn’t the case. But I assure you, a vampire has no interest in your soul. They aren’t fiendish, just hungry and often imprisoned by the whims of their masters.”

Katja tilted her head, considering. Their masters… she turned to scan the crowd for that mop of silver hair or a hint of glaring crimson eyes. If Astarion was a spawn, where was his master? That haze of hatred seemed to part for a moment, a moment of lucidity amid the burning hatred, and Katja realized what a poor hunter she had been. What were his weaknesses and ambitions? What would bait him into the open or control him enough to bring him to heel?

She’d have to get closer to him to discover that. And that thought made her stomach wrap tightly in knots and made her heart set at a galloping pace.

As if summoned by her loping heart, he stepped into her line of sight, browline furrowed, half his fangs bared as he smirked. A single finger crooked in her direction. And Katja made a visible point to check her dagger before crossing towards him. “You seem to be alone,” she smirked, tucking her weapon back home at her hip.

“Thanks to you,” he sneered slightly, the clench of his jaw a slight tell to the rage simmering beneath that cool, alabaster exterior. “You owe me…” he snarled, quiet and pressed from behind his clenched teeth. “Because you, you grub, didn’t have the decency to clean yourself after your little moment of weakness today, I’ve lost my tentmate and meal ticket,” his voice was cold and exacting, a none-too-slight of a threat hidden beneath that refined exterior.

She just tossed her long, blonde braids behind her. “Needless to say, it was your choice today to do that, too,” Katja rolled her shoulders, squaring up for a fight.

“Oh, little brat, always angling for combat,” he suddenly eased, a well-practiced, sultry smile on his handsome face, “it’s bad form to discuss such… personal matters in the open.” He cocked his head, looking down at her seething, defiant glare. “Let’s find a little piece of nowhere, a place to… discuss all this madness like two mature creatures.” His crimson eyes shimmered like the shitty wine in her near-empty bottle. Extending a cold, pale hand at her, he drew close, invading her space. “Truce?”

She just narrowed her eyes, disbelieving the sincerity of such a gesture. Refusing to take his hand in hers. “Where?” she snipped.

His predatory grin widened enough to bare his glinting fangs. “There's a secluded place nearby that will do nicely… far enough away so no one will hear you scream…” his voice scratching into a growl.

“You mean from when you try to kill me?”

Thick lips twisted dangerously as he took a breath. “Death… a little death… it’s all the same, little brat,” his gaze hardened, “isn’t it?”

Katja glared at him, her mouth twisting to hide her confusion, sure there was a hidden meaning in his words she failed to recognize. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” she sassed back at him, confident outwardly…. Only to be discouraged as his grin intensified and as he gripped her hand by force. One yank, and she was pulled against the hard planes of his chest. This time there was no armor to hide the feeling of his skin or to conceal that sharp, clean scent of citrus and herbs.

“Oh, but you do know, better than anyone now,” he growled into her ear before shoving her away again. “There’s a clearing,” he jerked his head to his right, “we can meet there, no weapons, no axes. We can discuss our truce with just the clothes on our backs, what do you say?”

Katja just stared at him, fuming and stoic.

“Or are you too cowardly to meet a monster alone?”

“See you there, asshole,” Katja snarled before turning away, wine bottle raised high above her little blonde head to drink. Draining the dregs of that disgusting vintage, she smashed it against a tree before entering the dark, moonlit forest.

[ilivingonmyway]

Something, something, part II about Ninja Team headcanons! Part I here

Lloyd

• He knows things he shouldn't know. Spending a good part of your life at Darkleys does that to you. That was a school for future gang leaders, psychopaths and other types of crazy people. You can't tell me that at no point in his life did he learn how to dismember someone by the right way.

• He memorized all the names of all Starfare volumes and sagas. He's a complete nerd about these comics. And it's worse when he and Jay are together.

• Sometimes, he goes out with Nya, Pixal and Skylor just to gossip. These four together talk about everything and everyone that exists in the world.

• Even during the few times of peace in Ninjago, he suffers from insomnia. Often because of nightmares and some night terrors, but also because of his genetics. Both the Oni side and the Dragon side are more nocturnal. So he often stayed up all night just because he wasn't really tired and managed to stay that way until dawn.

• Sometimes he finds himself thinking about Akita. Missing her. Those few days with the wolf girl had affected him. As much as Lloyd tries to deny it, it was better than with Harumi, in more ways than one.

• He loves sweets, but not just any kind of sweets. He likes those that are sweet and at the same time refreshing. Because this way he doesn't get sick and can eat more.

• After the battle against the Oni, he often thinks about the "dream" he had about his Grandfather. He told Master Wu once, but he just smiled and said it was a dream.

• He is extremely protective of his family. Brothers, sisters, uncle, children... You will never lay a finger on any of them and leave in Punishment if the DragOni is around.

• Being the Green Ninja and the guy who is on the front line in both defense and attack, he is very precise with his powers and strikes. One stumble and things could turn out to be fatal.

• At some point, he developed Wu's tea addiction and Garmadon's plant worship. This runs in the family and is completely inevitable.

Nya

• Her eyes were brown, exactly the color of wood, like her father's. But after spending a year as part of the ocean, Nya's eyes changed, now having prominent blue-gray spots on the irises. At some point they returned more to brown, but whenever she uses her powers on a large scale, her eyes return to the blue.

• She's better than Kai at making weapons. Swords, axes, clubs, arrows... She always had a lot of free time in her childhood and early teens, and while Kai was busy being a ninja, she had all the time in the world to practice making weapons.

• After she was brought back from the endless sea, for a long time she had these bouts of overpowering. Most of the time this manifested itself in her physical form, with the ends of her hair randomly turning blue and floating as if she were underwater. She also remained with the marks of the transformation, but this has faded over time, almost like a really old scar, you won't notice it unless you're paying close attention.

• She is equally impulsive and the voice of reason. She will think at least 20 times to make sure the punch she will hit you and break your nose.

• Don't be fooled, even though she is usually very calm and is part of the voice of reason trio Zane and Pixal are the other members, Nya can be extremely jealous. She is related to Kai and was raised by him, so she ended up getting this overprotective and jealous instinct. Jay and Lloyd are the main targets of this instinct, because they are her Yin and her little brother. Although she often tries to hide it or not care, she will always end up being somewhat possessive of her loved ones.

• She can still hear the voice of the ocean, more specifically, Nyad. But this time they're not calling out to her, they're congratulating her on finding what she lost.

• She is a master of Aikido, I just think it's matches with her, being the Water Ninja, she long ago learned to go with the flow of the fight. Water never takes you where you want to go, you are the one carried by the force of its flow. Some time later, she trained Lloyd in this style.

• The amount of times she called Kai "dad" as a child is insane. She used to call him that in the most mundane tasks that used to remind her of Ray. Kai held back crying every time that she called him that.

• She was never a heavy sleeper, always having difficulty for fall sleeping and often waking up in the middle of the night. This only got better after she started living at the Monastery, as she felt that so much Kai and she were safer.

• She has a collection of weapons. Swords and spears are what she collects most, she keeps most of them hidden in Samurai X's cave, but there are also some in her room, for emergency purposes and also because she thinks it makes the decor look cool.

Zane

• I got this from some post, but I don't remember who the author was He talks in his sleep. At some point in his life some parts of the voice control were damaged and even after Nya and Jay took a look he continued talking in his sleep. He just can't stop. The worst is on nights when he has nightmares, as he begins not only to scream, but to narrate the dream, right down to the noises in the scene.

• Every time he gets very nervous he starts to freeze himself or the people and things around him. He tends to distance himself when this happens, as he prefers to freeze his own circuits than the people he loves.

• Sometimes he refuses to sleep, not for any worrying reason, but because he wants to do some tasks that he couldn't do while it was daylight. Washing the dishes, sweeping the training yard, putting the clothes to wash... Any household chore that he didn't do due to some unforeseen circumstances, he does at night.

• Whenever he hears an unfamiliar term or slang, he tends to do a quick search. If he doesn't find the meaning, he will ask Jay or Kai later, since they are the two who most spend time online.

• The Ice Emperor episode left him with a lot of trauma as well as some survivor's guilt. Zane never stopped to think that he could actually kill frozen people or commit genocide if his 1s and 0s weren't actually aligned correctly. He never forgave himself and started using his powers less.

• Birds are his favorite animals, of course. But there's one thing no one knows: He can't decide between the hawk or the snowy owl as his favorite kind of bird.

• He has a mental list of all the food preferences of all his ninjas and other friends.

• In the hottest summers, the ninjas fight to spend time with Zane, as he is a walking air conditioner. He finds this particularly funny and always laughs when they start arguing with each other.

• He and Pixal often play board games and experiment human things.

• Before discovering he was a Nindroid, Zane often did non-human things that others found strange. One time, when it was just him, Cole and Jay, they went out on a little scouting mission, and in the middle of the whole thing they ran into some highwaymen who they ended up fighting, and in the middle of the fight, Zane hit his head on a rock, and while Jay and Cole were in complete panic Zane was confused because he didn't feel hurt. The next few days were filled with worry and jokes about Zane being a blockhead.