#established relationship btw

[cats-obsessions]

Kill Your Lover - Durgetash Drabble, Part 1

Summary: The Dark Urge, Nox, is brought his father's command to kill his lover for the first time, and Sceleritas wants to plan a wedding.

Part 1 | Part 2

---

Somehow, the silence echoes in the room, pounding, throbbing pain bouncing off the walls of Nox’s busy mind. He had been serving his father well without complaint. His following had never been stronger since he was appointed Chosen, and the temple was thriving. He didn’t understand- he didn’t want to.

“I have treated you with great mercy throughout our years working together.” He finally says. So much meaning hidden between the words, more unsaid than said.

“Oh, but master I only desire for your greatness!” Sceleritas stands before him, the useless butler eager in his duty, a grinning reaper of death.

“Stop.” Nox pinches the bridge of his nose. He fights with himself not to scream, and his voice comes out a deep, measured, and dangerous sound, “You watch me, you follow me, you report on my business- my victory and my sin alike. You are nothing but a glorified spy to serve my father.”

“I would never-”

“Then, you will not speak of this. It is only physical, and we have made much growth toward my father’s design.”

“The machinations you have contrived of, I will admit, are beyond that I have seen from any other Bhaalspawn. Nonetheless, you must know Bhaal has sensed some… attachment to the Banite.”

“He is wrong.” Nox hisses, and not even he knows the depths of which the lie runs.

“Wonderful! Simply kill-”

“No.”

The bravado in Sceleritas’ posture all but seeps out of him, his shoulders beginning to wilt toward the floor. “Your refusal will only prove him right.”

“The plan is not finished.” Nox says, and the justification is true.  

“Surely m’lord can complete it without the Banite.”

“I cannot.”

“Master, there is no shame in gaining such attachments as long as you divulge yourself of them as they come up.”

“I cannot.”

“If it is sentimentality that concerns you, have you considered the romanticism of whispering your confessions to the Banite as you delve your blessed dagger into his dark heart?”

“I will not.” Nox raises his voice. “I will not. Not now. Not yet. Allow me this one thing.” He feels as though there is a hand in his chest, squeezing his heart as the wretched thing fights for every last beat of blood flowing through his veins. The pain in his head intensifies, sharp spikes stabbing into his frontal lobe.

There is a long silence between them before the butler finally speaks, his voice unusually soft, “You know I am not the one that commands such things.”

“I know.” He sighs, “And yet, I do not know what to do.”

Another long pause hangs in the air until Sceleritas lifts his hand, damned finger pointed toward the heavens. “Perhaps there is hope yet to make your case to our Lord Bhaal. Surely, your loving father will pardon your fondness if only we can convince him the Banite pawn is needed. Perhaps, both your desires may be sated in truly the greatest show of attachment given by our blessed lord.”

“To sacrifice us on my father’s alter? Of course, I’ve considered it.” Noxs huffs, and he has. He’s envisioned it more than once throughout the years since their first coupling- hells, maybe a few times before then, too.

“Oh my, had I known things were so serious, I would have prepared an array of options for the ceremony. Oh- yes, suits, decorations, a feast. My- no-” the butler shakes his head, seemingly pushing the thoughts from his mind, “Not yet my lord. You may instead give your father a sign of your commitment to such a design. To complete his plan then slaughter the failure of Bane in your own last breath.” Sceleritas sighs wistfully, “Nothing could be more romantic.”

Nox mulls it over. He had wished for that moment many times since first feeling the depravity of the Banite’s adoring touch, but to promise it at the end- would it be possible his father could allow him that much time? A greedy mind would imagine years- decades even before the world was truly under their thumb. All that time to live before it was time to die. It was a dream he dared not hold onto too tightly.

“I have officiated such rituals many times.” He thinks back to his followers which had chosen such a fate. The way they held each other close, staring deep into the eyes of their lovers as if they were not bleeding out onto the alter of Bhaal- that was, when both parties cooperated, anyways. “When an outsider is involved, we say they are made holy by their union.”

“Indeed, my lord.”

“Is that- could that be the case for Enver even?” They were doomed from the start, if he’s being honest with himself. There was no reality in which they could be together forever. This was not a choice he could make, but perhaps, if his father truly loved him, Bhaal could.

“To be taken into Bhaal’s great arms? I do not see why he would say no.” the butler hums.

Yes, he would do that. The next morning, he would rise early while the sun still sat on the edge of night and day, and drew drops clung to every grass blade, and he would procure a wondrous sacrifice for his father. He would bring his bounty to the temple, in the depth of the holiest of holy rooms, and he would conduct his own personal ceremony. Only then would he bow in prayer and scrawl his plea to his father in blood and ink.

*  *  *

Sceleritas jumps up, his long fingers tapping together impatiently as the door to the Dark Urge’s chambers swings open. It had been not hours but days since the Scion of Bhaal had left the ritual chamber, no food or drink or communication beyond his prayers to their god.

“Master! You are back already! What did he say?”

He’s draped in his ceremonial garb, a long, white robe seeping with the red of blood from the bottom of it and gold chains which hold the symbol of Bhaal suspended between his horns. Normally, his expression would be alight with desire and excitement, consumed with the pleasing warmth of murder and blood.

Instead, there is nothing behind his eyes; not grief nor joy nor sin. Only emptiness, a void so dark, Shar herself surely stands before him.

He does not answer the butler for a long, unmoving moment. Unfeeling hands pull the prayer of forgiveness out again, and Nox looks down at it one last time, the words burnt into his eyes and soul. Finally, recognition flashes before his eyes, something sharp and dangerous. He folds it neatly and places it into his breast pocket.

“It will not be of concern to me anymore.”

Part 2

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Other Durgetash drabbles: x

[meowkunas]

"Come here." Yuji slips a hand onto the small of your back and tries to bring you next to him instead of letting you trail along behind him. The crowd surrounding you doesn't let him.

"You okay?" You mumble, somehow managing to bump your shoulder against his. You're used to Yuji's doting by now, but he's strangely focused on you today.

He doesn't respond. The noise of the crowd seems to disappear into the background as you catch sight of his facial expression — a tenseness between his brows and a vacant look in his eyes, plus he's not even looking in your direction. It's a sign that he's been running on autopilot with you for at least the past ten minutes. You curse yourself for not noticing it sooner.

You try again. "Yuji?"

"Huh?" He turns back to meet your gaze. Whatever internal stress he's been working through is replaced quickly with a smile. You wouldn't have known he was faking if you hadn't caught his facial expression before. How many times have you missed something like this? "Just don't want to lose you in the crowd!" He says cheerfully, curling his hand into your shirt and then splaying his fingers out repeatedly. A nervous action. One of many that you're still figuring out.

"Yuji." You say, managing to guide him through the crowd to a quieter corner. "Are you okay?"

He hesitates and his gaze shifts from your face to a spot behind you. "Mm."

"That's not an answer."

"I know, I know! I'm just thinking."

"About?"

Yuji shrugs his shoulders, shifting his gaze away.

Don't do this. You want to say. Please burden me with whatever it is you're worried about. Please don't—

It feels difficult to swallow. "Do you want to just go watch a movie instead?"

"No way!" His eyes are wide, almost panicked. "You've been wanting to go to that dessert place forever."

Shaking your head, you reach forward and cup his cheeks between your palms, squishing slightly so that he's forced to look at you. "And it'll still be there tomorrow, and hopefully, the day after." You pause, whispering your next words. "Not asking for me right now, Yuji. Do you want to go today? Right now?"

He seems to deflate slightly at your question, but hesitantly and so slowly, he shakes his head. You catch his eyes flicker and you know he's about to come up with an apology, churned from the guilt he feels from burdening you with this, and perhaps, for wrenching away whatever happy moment he thinks he's stolen away from you.

"Okay." You say, simply.

Sometimes it's impossible to tell what he's thinking. Sometimes he gets very quiet and vulnerable. Being constantly loud and friendly covers that stark difference a bit too obviously. It's at times like this that you wish you could say the words directly into his brain so he gets it quicker.

I'm here. I'm here. Yuji, focus. I'm here. There's only so much you can do.

"Let's go." You murmur, sliding your hand into his.

This will have to do.

[feralforfrank]

An idea for biker!Simon Riley x reader? ahhh this video made me go feral lol. https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTFQQG3cw/

biker! simon riley x gn!reader

cw light choking (seggsual ig)

note hope you liked this! i'm going to be fantasising about biker!simon if someone needs me. (the tiktok for anyone who wants it)

okok listen.

you bounce on the balls of your feet, excitedly waiting for simon's bike's familiar roar. you clutch your helmet, checking your phone every two seconds.

he'd texted you last night about a road trip with his friends and a couple of bikers soap knew. you were supposed to go on a date tonight, but the idea of spending the entire day riding with him sounded like paradise. so you immediately agreed.

he'd told you to gear up and wait for him outside of your apartment building. you didn't have full gear yet, but a black weather jacket with three skull stickers on one sleeve and a ghost on the front pocket.

you don't wait much longer, as he rounds the corner of your block and the roar of his engine lowers to a buzzing purr. you almost squeal in excitement, your pace fast, almost running to him.

"hi, si!" you kiss the side of his helmet as he lifts his visor up.

"'ello, luvie. you excited?" your eager nod makes him smirk. his eyes lower to the helmet in your hands, frowning. "why aren'ya wearin' tha'?"

"i couldn't secure it." you look at him sheepishly. "help me?" you offer the helmet to him.

he sighs heavily, rolling his eyes and feigning annoyance. he grabs it anyway, pulling his gloves off, and gently pulling it down your head.

you watch him fiddle with the clasp, eyes narrowed in concentration. a grin spreads, the stupid ideas lightbulb lighting up. before you second-think it, you slam simon's visor down, giggling as he freezes, stunned.

your giggles turn into a gasp as simon's bigger hand grasps the chin of your helmet, pulling you closer. "playin' games, huh?"

you shrug, a giggle escaping. his hand slips down, finding its usual place around your throat. your breath hitches, the familiar heat between your legs intensifying. as if watching him pull up, geared up, muscles bulging, thighs all big and biteable, wasn't enough.

"ya g'nna be a brat today? gimme a hard time?" he squeezes, his touch soft and warm, as he goes back to tightening the clasp.

"ngh—no." you have to remind yourself the public space you're standing in right now.

"g'nna be a good girl, then?" you hum, your cheeks burning.

he grunts, appreciating the response. he releases you gently, and you almost whine at the loss of contact.

"y'ready. hop on."

you watch him sit on his bike, muscles flexing. and you're sure you're drooling. gooooood, this is going to be a long day. the burning thump-thump between your thighs agrees.

[xray-vex]

hey remember when the OFMD s2 teaser video dropped and there were people who were somehow CONVINCED that Stede was referring to Izzy when he said "I don't care what any of you say, he's actually a good guy" and not, y'know, Ed, whom they were literally just talking about in this scene?

like what the hell was that about

[rainbow-sunshine-unicorn]

Kate and Anthony s2 vs s3 parallels

[fr-wiwiw]

I made a poll on twitter on which Gahan fanarts I should done first between sfw & nsfw. It ended up with 50/50 results lmao

So here's the sfw done first <3 Zoom in for their small details! You won't regret it hehe.. sketches context are down below the image

I'll be sketching the nsfw later, I have commission progress to do

black colored sketches:

top left - yohan smooching gaon's cheek based on a black & white dove pic from oomf twitter post

top middle - yohan is pissed that someone (you) is stalking & taking pictures of them on their date, gaon is oblivious and wondering why yohan looks annoyed at the fishes. yohan is thinking how to dispose you without gaon noticing

top right - gahan talking about their likings in sex after post coital session. gaon likes when yohan ties his wrists. yohan likes/ doesn't mind gaon's nails scratching deep on his back or shoulder. there's also finger marks on gaon's thighs with how hard yohan was handling him. their toes touching and wiggling, can't get enough of skin contact. they're both clingy for each other

pink colored sketch:

gahan is taking a stroll when gaon notices something & pulls yohan's sweater for attention

orange colored sketch:

yohan leans his head on gaon's shoulder to take a nap after gaon bought a cup hot drink. gaon is surprised bcs yohan rarely leans on him physically in general

[moon932]

idk why but the thought of someone entrusting their wedding ring to their partner is always something i adore? especially when it comes to wriolette in my mind.

wriothesley works at a prison and old habits die hard, even if you’re at the top of the food chain, so i like to imagine after he and neuvillette get married he gives neuvillette his ring so it doesn’t get stolen (neuvillette would wear it on a chain or something to keep it on him in my mind. also out of the two them people have less balls to f with neuvillette personally). like the probability of it happening to wriothesley is slim yes but never zero, y’know?

…it’d also make for wonderful angst for when wriothesley dies because then what if neuvillette buries his own ring with wriothesley or something

[clownboybebop]

just had a preliminary consultation with a new therapist, and for once in my life I actually gave them relevant and helpful info on what I was looking for and what my actual difficulties are instead of cock dick balling it and just kind of hoping the severity of my dysfunction will be conveyed through cordial small talk

[mc-critical]

1.10 / 1.09

[chenziee]

OPKisstober: Accidental Confession

Day 5 for OPKisstober: Kid/Killer

There was a lot that Killer expected Kid to say after their escape from the Udon Labour Camp. He expected the rage—at Kaido, at Queen, at Orochi, at Apoo—, he expected the growled curses, shattered rocks, assurances that he would make everyone pay for what happened to them.

He did not, however, expect this.

“—and then he starts competing with me! Can you believe this guy? He’s so fucked in the head, I fucking swear!”

“Fwa fwa fwa! Are you sure you didn’t start it, Kid?” Killer asked, rising an eyebrow.

“Hah?! Excuse me? You think I’m a fucking kid?” Kid snapped back immediately. Unwittingly proving Killer’s point. 

Killer simply shrugged, not saying either way, which only made Kid huff in annoyance before he continued.

“I’m not on Straw Hat’s fucking level, alright? God.” He paused running his hands through his hair in frustration. “He’s the brat here! Sure, it was fun riling him up and competing with him but I’m not that childish or stupid!”

Holding his breath for a second, Killer waited whether Kid would realise what he had just said… but when no defensive grumbling followed, Killer slowly opened his mouth. “I’m glad you made a new friend, Kid. Fwa fwa fwa fwa!!”

The way Kid immediately whipped around, staring at Killer with wide, bulging eyes, and an open mouth… it would make Killer burst out laughing even without the cursed Smile fruit forcing him to. And with them being all alone in the desert, not a single living soul in sight… Killer didn’t even bother to fighting it.

The longer he laughed, the redder Kid’s face became as the embarrassment from his accidental confession settled in… and that only made Killer laugh harder.

“Stop laughing, you asshole! He’s not my friend!” Kid insisted, but he refused to look Killer in the eyes.

Shaking his head, Killer walked over to his captain—his best friend, his boyfriend, his lover—, grabbing his right hand; he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the scarred knuckles.

Kid shot him a glare but didn’t complain, so Killer stepped even closer, pulling Kid into a proper kiss; as their lips moulded together for the first time in weeks, the touch clumsy and desperate and full of words that were left unspoken, Killer felt peace for the first time since the day Hawkins and Apoo arrived in the Kid Pirates’ base.

He was sure Kid felt the same way.

Even though he’d apparently had a grand time full of fun with his new friend while in prison.

[ Masterpost | Series on AO3 | Ko-Fi ]

[paingoes]

when u try to establish a minor boundary with someone and in response they ghost you and delete their entire account……..?

[purrgilpawkins]

Burning Love

Summary: After an encounter with Hotstreak, Virgil takes it upon himself to kiss and make Richie better. (Also available on AO3)

Pairings: Richie Foley/Virgil Hawkins

Warnings: n/a

Notable tags: fluff, established relationship, first degree burns, aloe vera usage

“Ow!” Richie yelped, snatching his hand from Virgil’s grasp and the Terrorsome Tweezers he was using to remove the fabric stuck to Richie’s hand.

The fabric that stuck to his hand after Hotstreak had managed to catch Gear off guard, grabbing hold of said hand just as he’d been about to take off, and burning Gear’s glove badly enough so it wouldn’t come off without a fight. Luckily, Static had come to the rescue before Hotstreak could do any real damage.

Back at the Gas Station, the dynamic duo checked the damage and both heroes had determined it wouldn’t require a doctor’s assistance (not that they’re knowledgeable enough to make that call.)

Virgil sighed an ever patient sigh and gently took Richie’s hand in his, pulling it back toward him to resume his ministrations.

“Chill, Rich. I’m almost done,” Virgil said, trying not to feel guilty over Richie’s flinching that accompanied every plucked piece of synthetic fabric.

With another piece plucked and another hiss of pain from Richie, Virgil clicked the tiny tweezers together twice as he turned Richie’s hand over and back, looking for any more bits of the gruesome glove. Virgil sighed again, relieved that the worst was finally done, and placed the tweezers beside himself on the rickety coffee table he was using as a chair. He then reached out for the bottle of aloe lotion, stubbornly not looking at the table as his hand bumped into a roll of bandages and the tweezers he’d just placed down. Finally, Virgil’s hand found the smooth plastic bottle and picked it up.

“I’m done tweezing, dude. You can stop bracing for impact.”

Richie opened his eyes a smidge and untensed his shoulders at the sight of Virgil squeezing the lotion into his hand. Setting the bottle down, Virgil began rubbing his hands together, coating his hands completely, and reached out to take Richie’s hand in his once more. Richie inhaled sharply, bracing for sudden pain, but exhaled upon the immediate relief at the cool feeling enveloping his uncomfortably hot hand. As Virgil rubbed it in, he couldn’t help but be glad that Richie’d had the foresight to buy the aloe for electrical burns (both of the technological and Static variety.)

After the thorough rub down, Virgil reached back toward the table and grabbed the roll of bandages he’d knocked around before. He waited for Richie to finish shaking his hand to dry the lotion and began wrapping it loosely and delicately. Once carefully wrapped, Virgil tore off the end and taped it in place, placing the roll back on the table and doing a final inspection of Richie’s hand.

“Am I gonna make it?” Richie joked.

“Maybe,” Virgil mumbled, bringing Richie’s hand to his lips and tenderly kissing the back of it.

Richie’s face flushed immediately and he looked away from Virgil, embarrassed at his bright red face and dopey grin he couldn’t quite control. Virgil gave his hand another kiss and Richie squeaked.

“Dude.”

Virgil smiled mischievously and gave Richie’s hand another kiss before releasing it. Richie took his hand out of Virgil’s range and rubbed at it affectionately, still trying to wipe the stupid grin off his face. Virgil gave Richie’s cherry tomato face a once over before gasping loudly. Richie snapped his head toward him at the sound.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Virgil brought his hands up and cradled Richie’s face in between them. “You didn’t tell me Hotstreak got your face too! Here, lemme make it better.” He then pulled Richie’s face toward his, peppering kisses on Richie’s reddened cheeks, making them even redder. It’s a wonder how Richie didn’t pass out with all the blood rushing to head.

“Virg!” Richie giggled as Virgil went back and forth between cheeks, leaving no bit of skin unsmooched. Richie pushed Virgil back slightly amidst the laughing from them both, wrapping his arms around Virgil’s neck and leaning in to press their foreheads together. “I think,” Richie said in between laughs, “I’ll be alright, V.”

“I dunno, Rich,” Virgil began, trying to hold back his own laughter, “your lips are looking a little pink. Hotstreak might’ve gotten you there too.”

“Hmm, you may be right about that, dude. Guess you should kiss ‘em and make ‘em better. Just in case.”

“Well, I mean, if you think it’s necessary…”

“Oh, yes,” Richie said seriously, “very necessary.”

Virgil and Richie leaned in at the same, lips pressing softly against each other, noses pressing less softly against each other. The kiss broke quickly as the two couldn’t keep their laughter in anymore.

“Man, you are such a goof.” Richie wiped at his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah, but I’m your goof, you goof,” Virgil responded with a grin, giving Richie another quick kiss as he took Richie’s bandaged hand in his.

[faggylittleleatherboy]

The reason Jegulus got so big and why everyone fucking loves Regulus is because he represents a character that did everything wrong until the last minute and who on top of that feels like he’s unlovable and has a deep self hatred; and in spite of all those things there’s still someone who loves him unconditionally.

Regulus doesn’t need to put in the work to become a better person, to not treat people like shit, to think about the consequences of his own actions on himself and others. He doesn’t need to think or do anything, because there’s someone who takes the blame and responsibility for everything wrong he does and there’s someone who loves him like that (even when he treats that person like shit before and during the relationship).

It’s just because he represents feeling loved even when you fuck up in every possible way and feel no one could love you. It’s a massive self insert, he represents a free pass, that’s it.

[cluelesslesbian]

we could be the only ones here...

[tojisun]

writing an outside person pining for someone in an established relationship shouldnt be so fun but here we areeeeeee

snippet:

[strawberrisoulmate]

yearning for godot again.

that's it. that's the post.