#even if I'm not 100% satisfied with it lol

[stylographic-blue-rhapsody]

for @skullhaver for the ZA server OC kiss week! can you believe this has been in my wips for three years? can you believe I've rewritten it five times and wasn't ever really satisfied with it?

...

The Winter Palace is beautiful, and Felix wants to go home. 

He arrived with the envoy from Denerim—an attempt by Alistair to soothe past conflict and rekindle common trade between Ferelden and Orlais. Many of the older members of his council had been against it, of course, but there had been enough support from the younger generation of nobles that steps were finally being taken towards a working international relationship. It is important work, Felix knows, and he could not have turned down Alistair’s pleading request for his assistance in facilitating diplomacy. 

Even so, Felix is tired, and the Wintersend Ball cannot conclude quickly enough. He makes it through yet another tedious conversation with an Orlesian nobleman who, apparently, believes he is the first to see an opportunity for his unwed daughter to gain court favor through a political marriage into a Ferelden Teyrnir. (Said nobleman is not the first—this is the fourth conversation of this nature that Felix has been cornered into. He wonders if the others of the envoy are navigating similar headaches, or if he just has particularly bad luck.) He glances across the grand hall, hoping to identify a cluster of guests to mingle with that are less likely to try to play matchmaker.

And that’s when he sees her. 

It’s so brief a glimpse that he would say he mistook a stranger for her in a moment of wishful thinking, but no: under the Orlesian half mask there is the scar on her jaw from falling off her horse when they were kids, and the trio of moles like stars along the column of her neck. There is her easy soldier’s stance, and the way her fingers tap idly on the hilt of the sword belted over her ceremonial attire. There is her crooked grin as she takes her leave from her conversational partner and her purposeful stride to a side door off the main hall. 

Felix would know his sister from a stranger like he knows the sun from a lantern.

His breath catches on the sudden lump in his throat, and without one more wasted moment he begins weaving through the crowd in pursuit. 

She’s always been fast, impressively so on the battlefield when wearing plate, and while she is unencumbered in formalwear he loses her by the time he makes it through the door. As he wanders briskly through the adjacent corridors to try to pick up a lead, he is stopped by a palace steward who sternly attempts to herd him back to the main event. With great sincerity and only a bit of pleading, he convinces her that he has great need to speak with the knight that passed through. That chevalier is an old friend, you see, and I have missed her dearly.

It almost hurts to call her merely a friend, as if that could ever encompass the way he carries her child-self and her teen-self and her adult-self with him always, every moment of growth and change and becoming. As if it could ever describe how all of his becomings are carried with her, in turn. 

But he doesn’t know if it would be safe to call her sister. She disappeared, and she could be in hiding, or using a different name, or even pretending (Mum and Dad forgive him for even thinking it) to be Orlesian, pisspoor Leliana impersonation and all. Even if it would cause Beatrice no harm to explain their connection to a stranger, he knows how that conversation goes; the Mac Eanraig blood they share simply isn’t enough to make them look remotely related. 

So why call her ‘sister’? Alistair had asked him once.

Because she is my sister in all the ways that matter, Felix had replied. 

The steward points him in the opposite direction he was looking, towards the interior gardens, with a warning that if he gives any of her staff reason to complain, she’ll have him expelled from the Palace entirely. He thanks the woman with genuine gratitude and swears to cause no trouble. Felix offers her a short bow before striding down the hall. 

It may be early spring, but it is frigid. Apparently. Felix knows this not because of any chill from lacking outerwear (the Taint that burns like a furnace beneath his skin has not lessened with time), but because fresh snow dusts the pathways and the tender blooms of the garden trees. His heart twinges to see it, an echo of the landscape during their flight from the assault on Highever, but the ache is promptly overwritten by nervous anticipation at the sight of footprints in the powder. Still, his stride does not falter, pursuing the trail until—

“Bea?”

It slips out like a question, like a plea. She’s real, she has to be, Maker she’s here and she’s real and Beatrice, Beatrice, Beatrice—

She stands quietly at an intersection of footpaths, her court mask in one hand as she rubs at the bridge of her nose with the other, eyes closed. At the sound of her name, she startles, and when her gaze snaps to his it is wide with shock. “Felix?”

“Beatrice—”

And Felix is to her before he even realizes he’s moved. He wraps her in his arms, curling down around her as opposed to lifting her like he might have when they were little, and holds her as tightly as a prayer. He squeezes his eyes shut against the welling tears, pressing kiss after kiss to her soft copper hair as he murmurs her name. She, in turn, hugs him back and laughs, dumbfounded. 

“Maker, Bea. You just left. Disappeared. No one knew what happened.” Felix mutters desperately against the top of her head, a part of him still fearful that this is a dream. “We thought that assassins… that your body had been dumped in the harbor—” 

“Well, that’s a bit insulting. Like I’d go down by something as embarrassing as a knife to the back.”

Although he can hear the smile in her voice, he pulls back to look her in the eye, hands gripping her shoulders. “It’s been bad at home, the rebuilding has been so messy and the court is a wreck—Andraste’s bloody knickers, I’m so fucking happy to see you alive.” 

Something in his expression tempers her cheeky grin with sheepishness. “Sorry I couldn’t write to you. We thought it was safer for everyone if we cut contact for a while.” 

There’s a moment of silence as Felix feels his mind go blank, and then his thoughts kick back up at breakneck speed. He whispers, “Morrigan?” 

When the smoke cleared at Denerim, Beatrice and Morrigan had vanished without a trace. Losing his best friend without warning was just as difficult as losing his sister, and Felix spent months afterwards searching for any sign of them across Ferelden before Alistair had pleaded for him to return and assist in reestablishing order. It was excruciating, giving up the search.

“Morrigan,” Beatrice confirms softly. “And… Keiran. Our son.” 

Felix stares at her, stunned, before saying slowly, “It worked. It worked, and… I’m an uncle.” He laughs, loud and joyful, the sound of it ringing off the courtyard walls. “Fucking ashes, Bea.”

He pulls her into another crushing embrace, planting a kiss on her forehead for good measure. There will be time for explanations and tale-telling and familial introductions later. For now, in this moment, the only thing that matters to him is that his sister is here and healthy and whole, and Felix feels a little less alone.

[talkorsomething]

I have Got to get more transgender

[gu6chan]

maybe its sample bias but i think it's kinda funny how most people I've seen who've played drakengard because of nier are making ending e THE endgoal and more often than not the main if not only reason they're playing the game at all and when they finally get it they're like "this is it the single most impactful, greatest moment of all gaming. im wiping tears from my eyes this is it" and then you see the drakengard fans who've played drakengard because they like drakengard and you ask them about ending e and they're like "eh. it was okay, i guess"

[thanks--for--listening]

divine monstrosity

Chapter 1: Ava

it’s finally here, the Lilith centric fic I’ve been promising for months! is it good? who knows. but it exists, which at this point is all that matters. 

here’s chapter 1/4. also on ao3. (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4)

~~~

“feels like / we had matching wounds but / mine’s still black and blue and / yours is perfectly fine”

— the exit, conan gray 

From the moment she was born, Lilith had been given the gift of direction. Hands on her back, leading her forward; under her chin, shifting her gaze. Her feet walked the path paved especially for her, a path she had been destined for, and she did whatever was required to make sure she never strayed. 

Through every moment of it, there had been voices in her head. Her mother’s. Her instructors’. Every priest and member of the clergy she’d been presented to, who blessed her without knowing how precisely she’d serve them. Beneath altars adorned with gold, in front of a woman armed with an abundance of diamonds and sophistication, she’d done nothing but listen. 

The silence she was left with now threatened to drive her to madness. 

She had half a thought, as she jumped from headquarters to a hotel room, that perhaps the quiet was punishment for her infallible obedience. For years spent lying in wait for something that would never be. Like an open wound left untreated and exposed, the lack of noise in her head was a vulnerable, physical thing. It ached. Her body couldn’t heal from it. The cruelty felt vengeful, an intentional consequence of a lifetime dreaming about the Halo she had never deserved.  

Or perhaps all of this was retribution for her blasphemy. For the moment she’d stuck a knife in the Halo Bearer’s back and tried to cut it out herself. Ava may have forgiven her, but God clearly hadn’t. 

Lilith dropped the bag, let it hit the ground heavily. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Language, Ava.”

The girl turned around, hand dramatically clutching her heart. “We’re not in church. And don’t sneak up on me like that! I could have killed you.”

“It’s cute that you think that.”

Ava rolled her eyes, glanced down at the duffel sitting between them. “I didn’t realize your trip to the other side would make you the OCS’s official pack mule,” she said as she bent down and opened the zipper. “You know, we really ought to get you a bell or something.”

Anger simmered as Ava sorted through the weapons and passports. After everything that had happened, she’d have assumed Ava would finally start taking herself and this job seriously. But she was exactly the same person she’d been before their entire world had crumbled around them: a naïve girl who would never be able to handle the responsibility thrust upon her.

“Some gratitude would do you good,” Lilith snapped. “Where’s Beatrice?”

“Asleep. And keep your voice down — I wanna keep it that way. It hasn’t come easy these past few days.”

“It hasn’t come easy for any of us.” 

Technically it was true, but it felt like a lie coming from her. Their bodies would catch up with them, would shut down if they didn’t stop. They were still human. 

She hadn’t noticed, at first. That entire days had passed since she’d eaten a meal. Had a dream. Had a nightmare. Ever since her return, it was as if her body was energized entirely on its own, as if time itself moved differently. The rising and setting sun no longer held any kind of control over her. 

It wasn’t just the stars that had lost their grip. Her handle over her own heart had all but disappeared. She’d long ago learned the lesson of where feelings were meant to be kept: buried deep, away from the view of anyone who sought to take advantage of them. That kept her safe. That gave her an advantage. But now, every emotion threatened to drown her, invigorated in the same way her body had become. 

Anger was the only one that was manageable. It still burned as bright as it ever had, if she gave it any air. It didn’t seem confined to the same rules as the rest of them. It was comfortable. Familiar. The sole part of her that felt unchanged. 

Lilith suspected that said less about where she’d gone, and more about who she’d always been.

Stoicism was easier. Numbness was easier. Closing her mind and heart off from any potential trigger starved off the threat that she could feel constantly lurking in the shadows of her mind. Allowing even the slightest hint of some other feeling to sneak out could set them all loose, could leave her as unhinged as she’d been at the Vatican. Lilith would rather die again than lose her composure now, when the only person who knew how to put her back together was still lost. 

Mary had promised to help. Figure out what had changed and put the pieces into place once more. But Mary was gone. Beatrice was on the run. Shannon was dead. And the halls of Cat’s Cradle were filled with whispers that were never quiet enough, each one carving out space in the back of her mind. A poor imitation of the voices she’d lost. 

Her sisters no longer offered her purpose or direction — all they had to give were questions. Where she’d been. 

What she was. 

Whose side she was really on.

The answers were unknown, but one thing was agreed upon: her resurrection was anything but holy.

“Hey, are you…good?” Ava’s question stopped the derailing train of thought. She, at least, looked at Lilith the way she always had: with annoyance and a healthy amount of distrust. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, a couple weeks ago I watched you disappear into a black hole while impaled by a demon monster.”

“Yes, I was there, Ava. I recall.”

“Ok, but like, that’s a lot to deal with? And now you’ve got these powers and gray hair and—“

“And what?”

“I don’t know, I just thought maybe you’d want to talk about it.” 

Lilith rolled her eyes. “Even if I did, why would I want to talk to you?”

“Because I kinda understand what you’re going through? I mean,” she added, “I know it’s not the same, and I don’t know if you technically died, but—“ 

Ava’s rambles faded away, overpowered by the sound of her own heart pounding. Ava, who held her birthright in her back, thought they were the same? The Halo had given her everything. Life. Family. Freedom. Purpose. Lilith’s rebirth had taken all of that away, had corrupted something inside her so decisively that she was beginning to suspect it could never be reversed. Their bodies may both have healed, but only one of them was left with scars.

“—anyway, I guess I’m just saying that if you want to—“

“Ava.” For Beatrice’s sake, she forced her voice to stay at a near whisper. “Stop.”

“I—um, okay.”

Lilith ran a hand over her face, let her eyes roam around the room, searching for anything but the obnoxious, ungrateful girl in front of her. 

They landed on scraps of paper, spread haphazardly on the desk beside her. “What is this?” She said as she reached for them. “You know you guys aren’t supposed to be communicating—“

“No! Give those back!” Ava lunged for her, but Lilith phased backward, just out of reach. 

The sheet was covered in words, written sloppily, but not illegibly. Scanning the paper, she noticed the repetition. Every line contained the same name, written over and over: Beatrice, Camila, Mother Superion. Even her own. 

A sarcastic comment about her penmanship evaporated when she saw the final name. It took over three lines at the bottom, as if the excess could counteract the absence. As if the effort could bring her back. 

“I miss her,” Ava said, and the rage came quickly, because how could she? How could she feel the gap of her when she’d hardly known her? She hadn’t seen Mary love. Hadn’t seen her grow. She hadn’t felt the weight of her arms around her, holding her close, dragging her out of the void and back into herself. 

All that time they’d wasted chasing Ava, the three of them acting no better than petulant children. Fighting over her. Dying over her. And for what? A halo that had never been holy. An angel that was nothing of the sort. A girl who had never believed in it. 

“It’s my fault,” Ava whispered. “Maybe if I’d practiced more, or if I’d been stronger, I…”

The anger was inclined to agree, but logic held the words back. Lilith knew the truth. Only one of them had been compelled to whisk the group away, back to the safety of the OCS. Only one of them hadn’t been strong enough to bring everybody with her.

“Mary taught me to shoot.” She wasn’t sure where the words came from, where they were going, but she let them out anyway. “My mother thought guns were ugly, classless tools. Too common to be dignified. But Mary saw beauty in the danger. Weapons gave her an advantage, a way to protect herself and those she loved. And then she gave that advantage to me.”

Ava didn’t say anything, an occurrence almost as rare as Lilith’s nostalgia. She tried to savor it, but all it did was add to the unnatural air that seemed to follow her everywhere she went, the inescapable awareness that they were all transforming into something new. Something unrecognizable. Ava speechless, Beatrice restless. It wasn’t right.

She had an unrelenting suspicion that it had nothing to do with their loss or with Adriel, and everything to do with her. It had all started before the Vatican, right after she’d returned. It only seemed to happen when she was nearby. There was one simple conclusion: corruption by association. Her continued presence was enough to ruin them.

And yet here she stayed. Maybe she truly was selfish. 

“For a long time, nobody cared to come back for me,” Ava finally said in response. “Not any of the distant family members I have scattered around the world. Not the prospective parents who saw me as a sob story instead of a person. Not even the asshole who put me in that orphanage in the first place. But Mary did. She kept coming back. Even after I pushed her away. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

The familiarity of the sentiment beckoned emotions that Lilith fought off. Memories flashed through her mind, each one offering glimpses of a life that would never again belong to her. They were gone as quickly as they arrived. She forced herself into the safety of detachment, the sanctuary of the dreaded silence. 

“I never understood why,” Ava added. “Why did she keep trying? Why didn’t she just give up like everybody else?”

Why, indeed? Why spend all that time fighting her, after a year of slow-growing distance and glares that lingered long enough to be intentional, only to then hold her close when she needed it most? Why believe in her only when she was already beyond saving? 

She’d spent days searching for answers. Her only hope in finding them seemed to be in finding Mary herself and demanding an explanation for what she’d seen in her, because Lilith had spent long hours staring into the mirror and had yet to see anything worthy of that kind of devotion.

“Mary always has been stubborn to a fault,” Lilith eventually answered.

“I think some people might call that loyalty.”

“Same difference.”

“But why me? I hadn’t earned it.”

“Why any of us? Mary is just like that. She commits to people and refuses to give up. You aren’t special, Ava.”

Ava thought for a second. “But she is.”

Lilith nodded. It wasn’t reassurance — if either of them had sought that, they wouldn’t have come to each other. But it was something. Recognition, maybe, of what they shared. Of what they lost. 

“You should know that Beatrice promised to keep training me.” Lilith waited for the joke, but Ava’s face remained entirely serious. “I’m going to fix this. Next time we fight, I’m going to be ready.”

“Nobody’s ever ready; they’re only prepared.” The words came out automatically. The dutiful student still lived somewhere inside her, still remembered their lessons and stories. Lilith wondered how much longer that girl could last in a body that now defied the very gospel it had been promised to.

“Then I’ll be fucking prepared. I know I don’t have the experience that Shannon or any of the others had, but I can still put in the work. I can still fight.”

It was a different kind of ache, knowing that if Shannon were here, none of this would have happened. Lilith would still be herself: second in line, fighting off a different kind of whisper behind her back, the one that assumed it was jealousy making her ungrateful for her role. It wasn’t entirely a false assumption, but nobody knew what it was like to be next. To stand behind her friend and be constantly reminded that in order for her own legacy to begin, Shannon’s would have to end. 

She’d always thought that Shannon was her final lesson. That when the Halo did eventually pass onto her, she’d have learned everything she could from her predecessor. But Shannon had known something was coming, and she’d chosen not to prepare her for it. 

Lilith wasn’t sure if she’d naively assumed she’d have more time, or if she’d known, somehow, that the Halo would never be hers. If she’d seen something in her, some otherness, some darkness, that had pushed her to secrecy. After all, Lilith had spent countless hours studying and observing, and it was Ava who’d found an evil none of them noticed. She’d seen there was wickedness in their sect, and her foresight had nothing to do with what was resting in her back. 

It was her heart that led her to the truth; Lilith had frequently been accused of lacking one of those.

At the end of the day, the reason didn’t matter. What mattered was that Shannon was gone, and she had left her education unfinished. There was no one to lead her now.

“Do you still hear them?” She finally gave into her curiosity and asked. Ava looked at her, face scrunching in confusion. “The other Warrior Nuns,” Lilith clarified. “Shannon. Areala.”

“Oh. Not so much anymore, thankfully.”

“You’re happy about that?”

“Uh, yeah. They only showed up to tell me that their life was shit or warn me that I was destined to die a horrible death, so I can’t say I miss it.” 

Lilith nearly scoffed at the insolence. If it had been her, she never would have insulted their predecessors. She never would have dismissed the knowledge they carried, and the constant reminder that the scars on her back meant she would never be alone. Not in history. Not in her own mind. Not ever. 

For a moment, walking through the halls of the Vatican, she’d wondered if she’d found that feeling after all. It wasn’t as distinct, not quite a voice in her head, but something similar. A puppet master pulling the strings, giving her a new path, new orders, and not waiting to see if she’d listen before taking control.

It had scared her, at first. Realizing that her body, her actions, were not her own. Knowing that someone else, something else, had taken over, had led her to the boy, and the tomb, and then forced them to retreat. But every choice she’d made had turned out to be the right one. For a moment, she’d even let herself believe that God might have come back for her, despite her apparent damnation. 

But the silence spoke loudly enough. Whoever had taken over had used and discarded her like she was nothing. They’d turned her into a disciple and given her no one to follow. They’d abandoned her. 

“You should try and contact them.” Her voice was hushed, quiet not out of courtesy but necessity. “They may know more than they suspect.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I’ll try when we get there. Wherever ‘there’ is.” 

“When you guys make it to your next location, remember not to tell anyone. It’s safest if nobody knows where you are.”

“Will do.” Her eyes lit up as she added, “Honestly, I don’t even care where we go. I’m just hoping Bea and I will have a chance to experience something new. I’ve hardly had any time to see the world, you know? I wanna make the most out of it.”

Envy flared, lingered for half a second more than she usually let it. She wasn’t sure what exactly she was longing for. The gift of being wowed by the simplest of sights? The freedom to take advantage of a second chance at life without the burden of impious transmutation? Knowing that in all of it, Ava and Beatrice would be together, side by side at every step?

Or maybe she still ached for the Halo. For the responsibility it brought. The power. Maybe nothing had changed, except now she wanted something that she knew would reject her.

“Oh! Speaking of something new,” Ava said as she ran into the bathroom, returning with a box of brown hair dye. “You can have this one. I was gonna use two of them to go incognito, but Bea said any darker and it’ll look unnatural.”

Lilith grabbed it, turning it over in her hands. She knew it was another part of why everyone stared. Up until the Vatican, her hair had always been hidden underneath her habit. A non-issue by default. But though the doors to the OCS were still open to her, she hadn’t put the familiar garment back on. It didn’t feel right anymore. 

Her grip on the box tightened as she fought the rush of feelings itching to break through the surface. Even a hint of them felt unbearable, went against everything she’d ever known. Her heart did its best to overwhelm her, taking her episode at the tomb as permission to establish a new normal; Lilith did her best to bury it. The concept wasn’t new, it just required a fortified effort. Total commitment. She forced her mind to detach itself from reality. She felt nothing. She was nothing. And she would not break. No matter the cost.

“If you want to disguise yourself,” Lilith said after a moment, her voice reflecting a casual indifference she fought to hold onto, “you should probably do more than just dye it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did they not have haircuts at the orphanage?”

“Oh.” Ava walked back into the bathroom, and against her better judgment, Lilith followed, placing the box down as she stepped in behind her. She watched Ava watch herself in the mirror, anxiously running her hands through her hair. “I never really thought about it, but I think the last time anyone cut it was a little while after the accident. For surgery or something. They shaved it all off.”

“Definitely don’t do that. You don’t have the proper bone structure.”

“Gee, thanks. That’s a real confidence booster.”

“If you go for less drastic measures, I can take care of it now.” She wasn’t sure why she was offering. Ava was infuriating, and childish, and every conversation threatened her hard earned self-control. But something was cementing her feet to the ground. Something made her stay when she knew she should go. 

Maybe it was because her heart was still racing. Maybe she didn’t trust it to ease when she was back on the hunt, or in Cat’s Cradle. Maybe it was the sense that this hotel room, this conversation, existed outside of regularity, outside of time itself, and the moment she left, everything would go back to the way it was. To the way it would always be. 

Or maybe this was nothing but a proper distraction.

“You would do that?”

Lilith shrugged. “I have no other pressing matters to attend to. Not yet, anyway.”

That wasn’t true. She had leads to follow. A friend to find. But the words felt honest nonetheless. Like just saying them made it possible to delay everything else on her agenda for another few minutes. 

“I don’t know,” Ava hesitated. “Should I? What if I cut it and I look like a ten year old?”

“You already look like—“

“Shut up, I’m serious! This is a big deal!”

To hear the Halo Bearer stress over cosmetics while Mary was missing and Adriel walked among them should have brought the rage back to the surface. Part of her longed for it. Better it than something she couldn’t predict. Couldn’t reign in. But Lilith knew, at least in this moment, that her hesitation was about the decision itself. Having control. Agency over her own body. She more than most could understand how important the mundane choices felt when they were all you had. How stressful they became when you had no practice at making them. How tempting it was to relinquish that responsibility to someone, even if they chose wrong.

But, still. “It’s just hair, Ava.”

She looked up at her, vulnerability in her eyes, and Lilith was reminded once again of just how different the two of them were. Ava showed everything. She felt everything. Fear. Awe. Hope.  Lilith wasn’t sure how she hadn’t crumbled under the weight of it all yet, how those insatiable feelings hadn’t bled her dry. 

“It’s just hair?”

“It’s just hair. But it is up to you.”

Ava looked back at the mirror. She took a deep breath, before squeezing her eyes shut. “Ok,” she said. “Do it.”

Lilith didn’t give her time to change her mind before letting her nail grow sharp. In an instant, she ran it through the ends of her hair, watching the stands fall to the ground as she commanded the claw to retract.

“There. Done.”

Ava opened her eyes, and gasped. Lilith held back an eye roll. Everything was always so dramatic. 

“Oh my god, that was so much.”

Lilith glanced down. “It was at most four inches.”

Ava had already moved on, standing up so close to the mirror that Lilith wasn’t sure how she could even see herself reflected. “Wait, it actually looks super cool!”

“Then I suspect incognito won’t be a problem.”

Ava’s eyes narrowed. “Although, it’s a little uneven.”

“I don’t run a salon.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Beatrice can fix it for you in the morning.”

Ava blushed, just slightly, still staring forward. “Oh. Yeah, I guess she can. I mean, if she wants to. It’s not a big deal if she doesn’t, it’s only a few uneven ends, and it is just hair, but—.”

“Lord above,” Lilith mumbled under her breath. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait!” 

Ava reached behind her and grabbed the bottle again. “I know it’s just hair, but it might help to look like yourself again. Or, whatever version of yourself you wanna look like.” 

She handed it back. Lilith didn’t offer any kind of agreement or thanks, but she did accept it without protest. 

“Plus,” Ava added with that insufferable grin, “now you can’t say I owe you one.”

“I quite literally gave my life for yours.”

“You did try to kill me first, though.”

“Technically, I just tried to take the Halo.”

“Which would have made me dead again.”

Lilith shrugged. “That’s your problem, not mine.”

“Ah, Lilith. Always so considerate.” Her voice mimicked exasperation, and Lilith knew there was some truth to it, but that’s mostly what it was. Mimicry. 

They would never be friends. Not the way she was with Beatrice or Mary. But she would take this tolerable truce as victory enough. 

“Okay,” Ava said, her voice turning serious. “I know we’re supposed to go no contact, but you’ll let us know if you find her, right?”

Her hands formed fists, her nails threatening to break skin. Again, she buried anything that wasn’t indignant rage. Logically, some part of her knew this couldn’t be healthy, but it was effective, and right now, that mattered most. That’s what could save her.

It was impossible to ignore all her missing pieces. Awareness wasn’t the problem — the issue was that she couldn’t put the shards of her own soul back together alone. Couldn’t help the others until she did. And if there was one person that could set off a domino effect to fix all of them, it was Mary.

She’d spent a lifetime watching Warrior Nun after Warrior Nun give their life for their sisters. Waiting for her turn. Working hard and having patience and trust and faith. She’d never received the Halo, but she’d lost a life all the same to the dedication. But her next, no matter how short, wouldn’t be wasted. She would find Mary, even if it killed her.

“The next time you hear from me, I’ll have an answer,” Lilith vowed. 

Ava nodded. As she willed her body back to the Cradle, she noticed something else lurking beneath the anger. For the first time since the Vatican, she felt blessed with glorious, deafening purpose. 

[ettadunham]

god, there's not a lot that's more satisfying in elden ring, than getting back to a super hard location that the game decided to let you teleport to early in the game, and bodying a fight that seemed impossible at the time.

[volleychumps]

When He's your Rival (w/ Tsukishima, Oikawa, Kuroo, and Atsumu) x Fem! reader

enemies to lovers but someone mistakes rivalry with feelings LMAO

Warning(s): cursing! some unwanted touches by an asshole in Oikawa's part, crying- Y/N's a little crybaby sometimes LOL

Tsukishima Kei

"Take a look and cry, four-eyes."

"Go back to fifth grade, I'm begging."

Smirking at his snarky comment, Tsukishima finds the energy to lazily lift his head off the desk, staring blankly at the red 97 inked on the corner of your paper, complete with a messily scrawled circle and a smiley face.

You always were a teacher's pet.

"Nice." The blonde yawns, going to put his head back down. "I scored a 99 though. Guess having four eyes really helps."

He can't stop the satisfied twitch tickling his lips as he buries his head a little further into his crossed arms, the sound of your groan of annoyance music to his ears as you crumple your test paper in your fist.

"This isn't over, Tsukki. I studied all night for this!"

"Don't call me that." He lifts his head to scowl at you as you haughtily spin on your heel, determination in your steps and a gloomy cloud over your head over the loss as he calls after you. "Not my fault you're obsessed with me."

You do a 360, pouting all the while as Tsukishima eyes you evenly, amusement twinkling momentarily in his eyes as he watches you grow flustered.

"I am not! Don't get it twisted, Tsukki- the only thing I'm obsessed with beating your sorry ass!" You crumple up your test paper further, fuming as you leave it on his desk in a childish manner.

"Why is my ass sorry when you're the one who lost?"

Yamaguchi watches on with a sigh, Tsukishima watching you storm off with a little bit more than amusement in his eyes before turning to his childhood friend.

"You feed into this way too much, Tsukki. Y/N is nothing but sweet, why do you bring out the worst in her?"

The tall blonde hums, his hand supporting his right cheek. "It's because she's just so fun to talk to."

Yamaguchi shivers at the cynical tone his childhood friend had taken on, wondering why this childish rivalry between the two of you had been stretched for as long as it was.

"We've known each other since we were kids, Tsukki. Y/N's parents used to joke about you guys marrying each other because you hated each other so bad."

"I don't hate her." Tsukishima's reply is immediate, moving to shift his headphones back onto his ears. "The brat knows I'd take care of her if it came down to it, so quit you're worrying, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi's expression shifts to one of surprise, but Tsukishima's already distracted, eyeing your crumpled up test before dropping into his bag.

Nothing wrong with taking a trophy, right?

A couple weeks later, you're holding your breath as your eyes scan the top 100 scores in the school during late-study hours, the halls nearly barren, willing your name to be above a certain blonde hair middle blocker before visibly wilting.

"Ah, look." You groan, the utterly amused voice you're not wishing to hear at this moment sounding in your ears as Tsukishima smirks down at you, finger prodding at the box marked Tsukishima Kei before pretending like he's looking for your name.

Not one, but two names down from his.

"Looks like someone didn't study-"

Tsukishima cuts himself off at the sight of your eyes filling up with frustrated tears, not expecting the sight before him to make his chest heavy.

You were always so dramatic.

"Tsukki, you win this time." You sniffle, wiping your eyes haughtily as he looks at the eye bags under your eyes, growing annoyed all of a sudden- even more iriate when he can't figure out why.

He knows this, but why is this effecting him so much?

"Oi." His voice is quiet with an agitated edge, putting a hand on your shoulder to lean you up against the wall. "Why are you so obsessed with this? You're so stupid- crying over something as meaningless as beating me."

Your cheeks puff up at his blatant remarks, his chest tingling before you take a deep breath before knocking your forehead against his, taking the blonde boy by surprise as he glares down at you, rubbing his nose.

"What the hell-"

"I just want to be your equal, you always treat me like I'm such childish brat." You tell him, mixed feelings in your throat as Tsukishima takes on a look of bewilderment. "Ever since we were kids-"

"So you just want my attention, is that it?" Tsukishima's smirking now, the pain in his nose unnoticeable as your expression stiffens, a hint of realization in your eyes as the blonde's throat suddenly grows tight.

"What-"

"Little Y/N, do you have feelings for me?"

"You're not that much older-!"

"Don't avoid the question, brat." Tsukishima's even closer now, hand touching the wall by your waist as your eyes dart all over the hallway. "Is this what all this rivalry is about? Why you care so much about proving-"

"And what if I do?" Your voice quivers for a second, Tsukishima's lips shutting tight at your words before frustrated tears grow in your eyes again. As if realizing what you said, your eyes grow wide with embarrassment- shoving him away before taking off down the hall.

The tall blonde stands there for a second, soaking in the last few minutes before touching the back of his neck, the tips of his ears reddening before sighing deeply.

He rolls his eyes before smirking a little, your confused expression flashing in his mind once more as he wonders what will become of your one-sided rivalry.

Fuck a trophy. He wants to see you make that face again.

Oikawa Tooru

"Tooru, you wanna fight me so bad."

"Just because I want to doesn't mean I will, Y/N-chan. You'll probably lose."

Iwaizumi barks out a laugh as your glare evenly matches Oikawa Tooru's, lightning flashing between the two of you as the brunette crosses his arms with a frown. He almost thinks it's fate- the two of you ending up in the same class seated next to each other with Oikawa by the window.

"The fact that you said probably instead of definitely means we both know Y/N would win in a fight."

"Stay out of this, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa doesn't break eye contact with you, growing more irriated at the sweet smile that overtakes your lips.

"Tooru, I'll start telling people your hair isn't natural in color~" You start doodling on your notes nonchalantly, amused at the popular boy's growth in irritation.

"You wouldn't dare." Oikawa pales at the obvious lie, knowing your effect- how your words would send ripples through the school by the end of the day.

That's right, ever since you transferred schools and gained popularity as the most sought-out girl at Aoba Joshai and had made a passing comment (you didn't really think about it) about how you had no idea who Oikawa Tooru was and didn't really care- the school's popular setter has had it out for you.

Iwaizumi had a huge kick out of it though, satisfied seeing his friend being put in place by the one girl he couldn't really have. You grin cheekily, batting your eyelashes innocently as Oikawa meets it with a pouty stare.

"Why do you care so much of what I think of you?"

"I don't."

"Then piss off." You close your eyes with sugar-laced words, causing Iwaizumi to turn around with a shaking back.

"Iwa-chan, stop laughing!" Oikawa whines, turning his attention back to you with a haughty remark to discover you had stood up and skipped off towards the exit of the classroom.

"She's got me. I'm her fan- I see the hype."

"Iwa-chan, you're supposed to be on my side!"

"Y/N didn't know who you were- big whoop." Matsukawa yawns, leaning back in his seat from in front of Iwaizumi. "Not everyone cares about volleyball."

"And she was new." Hanamaki adds, shrugging his shoulders at the look of betrayal his brunette-friend had sent him. "I'm just saying- maybe your anger is misplaced?"

"Oikawa has a crush~"

"Mattsun- I almost threw up, please." Oikawa sighs, spinning around in his seat with a newfound exhaustion. He looks out the window, eyebrow twitching when he sees you bowed deep in apology to some poor student who was obviously amidst confession. His defined chin touches his palm in thought as anger swirls in his stomach.

How he despises you so.

You were so annoyingly pretty. It was ticking him off, how you spoke so nicely to his three provoking friends yet would barely muster up a smile at him unless it was sarcastic. Oikawa observed as you messily brushed your hair back with your hands to focus on your work, growing even more annoyed when he discovered how much you cared about school.

It was all because he didn't like you, that's why he paid so much attention.

..right?

He's sipping from a can of orange juice, having ducked away from his fanclub to turn a corner of the school no one really frequents when he sees you again later that week.

"Y/N- you always act like you're too good for anybody."

The tall brunette stops at the corner, peering around it while remaining out of sight.

"Maybe I just don't like guys who pressure girls into dating them." You don't miss a beat- but Oikawa hears it, the tinge at the edge of your voice.

Fear.

Some nobody who Oikawa doesn't even know the name of clicks his tongue, grabbing your wrist roughly as you stare down at his strong clasp on you.

"Let me go, you fucking loser." You're pissed off now, smiling your signature grin- the one with no real sweetness behind it. You were afraid to have followed this dangerous guy to an empty part of the school- thinking one of your fellow students would never do this sort of thing.

You were so wrong. His grip tightens as you try to fling his hand off in frustration.

"Pretty Y/N-chan. I'll ruin that face of yours and beat that attitude-"

"Someone isn't taking rejection very well."

You blink in wild surprise as your back touches Oikawa's chest abruptly, his strong grip on the student's wrist as he yanks him off. You don't see him, but you don't have to turn around to know that Oikawa was pissed.

"Get your pretty boy toy out of here, slut." You wince at the insult slightly when the guy doesn't even look at Oikawa, still glaring down at you before Oikawa tugs you gently behind him, towering over the absolute nobody who dared to put a hand on you.

"You shitty coward." You look up at Oikawa's broad back and shoulders, anxiety draining out of your system as Oikawa keeps a firm grip on your hand. He squeezes your hand once, and you get the message.

You're okay.

"Getting physical with girls now, are we? Someone doesn't want to have a future." Oikawa mocks, tilting his head to the side menancingly with a smug grin on his face. "You know what pisses me off the most? When people don't acknowledge my existence."

You've never seen this side of him before.

Suddenly, Oikawa side steps, both arms reaching out to keep you behind him as his grin widens. You cover your mouth at the sight of the student having failed to land a punch on the setter's jaw.

"You attacked me, right?" Oikawa hands you his bag, jaw clenching before easily grabbing the guy's collar, the height difference making him pathetically dangle slightly off the floor. You gasp when his eyes take on a darker edge, delivering a hook of his own to the side of his face, not seeming to hold much back as Oikawa momentarily wonders just what was fueling all this anger.

"What's going on here?! Oikawa Tooru, let him go!"

When he drops him to the floor on command, you're looking at him differently.

Maybe you should've cared a bit more about just who Oikawa Tooru was.

You're still staring when he ignores the teacher, your wrist in his hand as he inspects it, asking you something- but you don't hear him, feeling an unknown swirl in your stomach.

And why the hell he was making you feel something you've never felt before.

Kuroo Tetsurou

"Kuroo, get over it."

"Don't roll your pretty eyes at me, kitten."

You huff, not even bothering to look up at the raven-haired captain as you check another tally on your clipboard. Another successful receive for Lev.

"How do you do it?"

"Kuroo, we've been over this-"

"Blah blah blah."

The interruption ticks you off, prompting you to finally look up from your work as Kuroo Tetsurou smirks down at you easily.

"It's not my fault they like me so much."

"They can't like you more than me! I'm the captain!"

"Someone's insecure."

It's Kuroo's turn to grow irritated at your remark, and you smirk successfully as Kenma sighs at the sight of you two from across the court. Yamamoto sweat drops, bouncing a volleyball off the wall as you and Kuroo begin bickering. You were annoyed as the taller captain grinned easily down at you.

"Why does Kuroo-san hate Y/N so much?"

"No idea. She makes me cookies when I listen well during practice!" Lev adds brightly. "If anything, Kuroo's the villain."

"Nah." Kenma doesn't look up from his game, thankful you're keeping his childhood friend occupied so he can't make him practice. "Kuroo doesn't hate her."

The surrounding members still, eyeing the short boy weirdly as the volume of you two bickering rises in the background.

"He definitely bothers her because it's fun." Kenma flicks his joystick, suddenly immersed in the level as it grows more interesting. "I wouldn't be surprised if he likes her."

Kenma's just speaking his mind at this point, but his fellow teammates don't believe him as Kuroo flicks your forehead, breaking off in a run as you chase him out of the gym in irritation.

"Yeah. Sure."

--

"Okay everyone," you begin, fiddling with your papers as the volleyball team sit in a circle with their knees tucked into their chest, hanging on to your every word as you try not to smile at how well-behaved they were. "Nekomata-sensei is out today, and he left instructions-"

"We'll be practicing in 3-on-3's."

You hold back a groan as Kuroo cuts you off, standing up easily as the tension between the two of you rises. He cocks his head to the side like what? with a growing smirk on his handsome features, causing your irritation to grow further. To annoy you on the sidelines of practice was one thing, but to disrupt you in front of the team is another.

"Anyways, like I was saying-"

"Shouldn't the captain know what's best for his team?"

Oh you hated being cut off.

You meet him with an even stare, trying not to let your temper get the best out of you.

"Kuroo-"

"Call me Tetsurou, Y/N-chan."

Kenma sighs when the lead of your mechanical pencil breaks against the clipboard, knowing Kuroo was pushing limits he hadn't before.

"Alright, Tetsurou." Your voice is venomous, shoving the clipboard with their coach's instructions into Kuroo's hands with an aggression you were having trouble controlling. You were so mad you began to see your vision get blurry, suddenly exhausted from the captain's antics and why he wouldn't leave you alone.

"You lead practice then." Kuroo's easy smirk grows into a worried stare at the sight, watching you storm off before he can get another word out.

"Boo, you made our manager cry."

"This is why you'll die alone."

"Y/N for president!"

But Kuroo isn't listening to the obvious slander from his teammates, putting the clipboard down before jogging off after you, Kenma rolling his eyes to unzip his gym bag for his switch.

"He flirts like a little school boy."

The raven-haired third year catches you in the halls, frustrated with yourself as your back touches the shoe lockers behind you. You didn't mean to overreact. It was something about him that made you so-

"I'm sorry, Y/N."

"Don't apologize." You grumble, looking straight on ahead before glancing upwards. Kuroo awkwardly takes a seat next to you, the sound of after-school activities filling the air in your silence.

"Do you hate me or something?"

Kuroo blinks once, guilt filling his chest at the ideas in your head before hanging his head with a heavy sigh. It seems he took his antics a bit too far.

"Y/N, you're just fun to tease." He drops the nickname, and you smile a bit knowing he's serious. "I don't mean to make you upset. The team loves you, and I..."

He trails off, causing you to cock an eyebrow. Kuroo looks away quickly, clearing his throat before looking back at you-

to see you genuinely smiling at him, his chest suddenly tight.

"That's a relief. You're too much sometimes, but I can't say I don't enjoy our conversations. I didn't mean to over-react-" You cut yourself off, suddenly worried as you raise a hand to his forehead. "Wow, you're suddenly flushed. Are you sick, Tetsurou?"

He grows a shade darker when your sweet voice calls his first name, seeming to short-circuit in front of you as question marks seem to appear by your face.

Meanwhile, the team shushes each other as they peer around the corner of the hallway, Yamamoto and Lev's mouth agape as a certain gamer merely shrugs.

"Told you so."

"Nobody likes a know-it-all, Kenma."

Atsumu Miya

"'Samu, tell me I'm better than her."

"I'm not lyin' to ya', twin or not."

Almost immediately, the blonde setter glares at his own flesh and blood, Osamu offering a slight smirk in response at his brother's irritation. Atsumu sinks lower in his seat, pouting as Suna rolls his eyes to the right of him.

"Can't believe I'm spending my precious free time to watch more volleyball."

Atsumu isn't listening to his friend, silently focused at the way you controlled the court, triumphant grin on your face as you score the winning point to take the first set. In fact, you had scored over half the points, the other team's blockers barely standing a chance. He had to come see it. All the buzz around school can't have been for nothing.

Y/N L/N. Volleyball prodigy that seemed to have come out of thin air.

Osamu whistles lowly. "Y/N's kinda like you."

"Don't insult me, 'Samu." But Atsumu knows he doesn't mean it. Suna glances at his friend once, sipping his drink casually as Atsumu gets a glint in his eye, fire seeming to erupt in the back around him.

"Oho, Atsumu's got a rival." Suna isn't too interested, merely observing his surroundings as Osamu coughs back a chuckle.

"Shuddup." Atsumu mumbles, eyes meeting yours as you look up at the stands to see just who was burning holes into your head. He shakes his head with a smirk on his lips when you cockily blow a kiss in his direction.

"Y/N...that's Atsumu Miya, you do know he goes to our school, right?"

"Oh...shit." You back down, suddenly embarrassed as you look away, Atsumu's eyes spinning with amusement and eagerness to one-up you, the cheers of the stadium mocking in his ears.

So low in behold, you try not to let the surprise etch onto your features when Atsumu is pointing a finger at you, having escaped the boy's gym to crash your practice when after-school activities come around.

"You." You blink, utterly confused as your teammates squeal in excitement at his presence. "Yer' practicin' with me, got that?"

Your jaw slackens at the audacity, wondering if he wanted to practice or if he wanted to prove something. Atsumu knew he had the right idea about you when you take a step forward, tilting your head in challenge.

"Think you can keep up?"

--

"Oi, stop harassing Y/N at the girl's gym and practice with your team." Aran puts emphasis on his words as Osamu snickers from behind him, watching his twin get scolded as Kita sighs.

"She is very good at what she does." The captain nods. "But that doesn't mean our paths have to cross with the girls'- in fact, they never should."

"Then let her play here." Atsumu doesn't care if he doesn't make any sense. "Y/N runs circles around her team anyways- hell, she's pullin' the whole team on her back."

The Inarizaki team resist the urge to roll their eyes at their setter's blatant slander. Osamu is amused, tying up the net as he attempts to tame his twin.

"She runs circles 'round you, that's for sure."

Suna stifles a laugh as Atsumu feels it again. Competition. He loved the feeling of it- the feeling that things were finally getting interesting.

He's walking towards the girl's gym again to drag you out to play with his team so he can play against you, when something he hears makes him pause in his step.

"I just don't understand what Atsumu-kun sees in her!" It's a high pitched whine, one that causes his eyes to darken.

"Right? It's not like Y/N is pretty or anything like that."

"She's good at volleyball- so what? It's not like she'd be anywhere without her team."

A tap on his shoulder is what breaks him out of his eavesdropping, turning slowly to see you standing there with a sad smile, grip tightening on the bag filled with drinks- you had went to get drinks for the entire team, while they boldly slandered you behind your back.

Your voice is hushed, but tinged with a bit of hurt as you shrug.

"It's just the way of the game."

"Like hell it is." Atsumu growls, swinging open the door as you gape at the action. Before you can react, Atsumu's laugh is resounding through the gym as you peek out from behind his back.

"Oh my god, aren't you three bench warmers? Yer' the ones talkin' shit?" He can't hold back his laughter as you audibly sigh from behind him.

"A-Atsumu-"

"Oi." The blonde isn't laughing anymore, eyes on the edge of menacing as he cracks his neck, eyes darkening. "Squeal all you want, just hope and pray I'm not there to listen to it."

"Y/N-senpai, we're so sorry!" You blanch at the three girls who were now bowing profusely in front of you before assuring them it's fine, tugging on Atsumu's arm with an eyeroll.

"We need to talk."

"You know, you are pretty." Atsumu grumbles as you tug him along. "I don't know why they-"

"I can fight my own battles, 'Tsumu." You huff at the boy in front of you, considering him both your rival and your friend. "It's just misplaced jealousy- don't make it worse between my teammates and I. I would've said something- come on, do you know me?"

Atsumu stands there for a second, soaking in your words as a slow realization comes onto him. This whole time, he's been treating you like a rival, a thing, something to propel him further and sharpen his skills-

not realizing he had slowly grown to care about you a little more than a rival maybe should. He had moved without thinking, the thoughtless words not meant for his ears pissing him off way more than it would've any other person.

But this was you. You always walked along your bicycle when he insisted on walking you home, making him listen to your music as you trained before eventually making playlists for him when he told you how much he liked it. You trained with him for as long as he wanted, even going to the public gym together when you trained with your respective teams.

Atsumu is still staring at you, seeming to process something as you laugh a little at his expression as the sun begins to set behind your figure.

"I'm not mad at you. Come on, I'll bring you back."

"Quit treatin' me like a stray." Atsumu mumbles, but he's unfocused, burning holes into the back of your head as you tug him along, smiling back at him.

"You have a bad habit of staring at me, you know?"

Oh shit.

"Well, you did call me pretty and all." You tease, winking once as you wave at his team in the distance, waiting by the practice gym to continue the practice as his prolonged absence ended up affecting the entire team.

Atsumu ducks his head as his twin smirks at the sight, Atsumu's face on fire as his eyes lock on to where you're hand is touching his arm.

He's so fucked.

[hellsslibrary]

Crazy idea but Omega Shuto Sendou and breeding kink. (Idk if you do heats but I would like to request that too.)

P.s. LUVVVVV your blue lock posts, especially that sae and skirt one❤️❤️❤️

Life is short so why the hell are you wasting it holding back when I'm here like this? (My husband's quotes as titles day 2)

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : I'll be brutally honest, he's so 100% straight in my eyes... This was really hard to write, I was picturing him getting fucked by a woman lol. 🌻 I can't picture him with a man (unless it not works out with his actresses, which is probably the case).

!!Warnings: top!male!reader (can be woman tho, it was in my mind), bottom!shuto, A/B/O, heat cycle, mention of impregnation, cumming inside, Sendou in your shirt, 'whore' one time, round number two million three hundred and five thousand four hundred and twenty seven (Sendou is REALLY insatiable here), mention of scratches on your back/lower back/butt, praise in both directions, Sendou is a bit of a tsundere(?), the reader suffers as I do while writing this LMAO.

"Come on, don't sto-stop, co-come on," escaped his lips for the umpteenth time that evening, while he was lying on his side with his leg raised, and you continued your thrusts inside him.

What time do you fuck? Who knows. How many times have you cum inside? God only knows. How long will it last? So long that after death you will probably be stewing in all the cauldrons of Hell for this lustfulness.

No, seriously, how much longer will it take for this guy to be satisfied? He looks like he's not going to stop for another couple of hours. The way his glass eyes stared at the wall in mute, well, not quite, pleasure was even funny.

You push his raised thigh to the side, making the bed creak under his shifted weight, and he scowls at you, though moans escape his lips, as if in another second you will fuck his whole being out of him.

"You're so fucking hungry... And still so tight," you grumble almost displeased, throwing both of his legs over your shoulder, penetrating his hole, from which mixtures of his slick and your cum were dripping, causing him to arch his back with a trembling moan.

"You're so big inside... I nee-need to make sure that the fe-fertilization has taken pl-place, stupid," his hand falls on his face, covering his eyes, which only makes you exhale in defeat.

Your body bends closer, Sendou's body bends almost in half, although he doesn't seem against the idea, just lowering his hand from his face, revealing the tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Sensitive. Greedy. Whore."

You emphasize your every word with a thrust into him, making sure that you touch everything you need, not being surprised when he comes again, covering your shirt with his fluids again.

His hands grab onto your bare back as you nuzzle into his neck, starting to cover the white skin with hickeys until he can only whimper. His legs were shaking on your shoulders like an aspen leaf, his knees were pressed against his chest making his breathing even harder.

"It's so, fuck, good... the-there... Hi-hit it again... Hard-harder!" he mumbles unintelligibly because of the amount of saliva in his mouth, and you just smile against his neck, biting his collarbone, making him cry out, and pulling away.

"Whatever you say," you shrug, wishing you could just get him to pass out and continue after at least a couple of hours, considering how your hips are already hurting.

The bed immediately started hitting the wall when your hands lift his hips a little higher. And his head rises from the pillows in a loud, ragged moan, pulling another orgasm out of him.

You curse when he squeezes you as if in a vice, which makes you come too, filling him. And when you don't hear the reaction, you look up, and fuck, you just thank all living things when you see that he's asleep.

Your cock slips out of him, reflexively thrusting his cum back inside him, which makes him twitch a little and you cover him with a blanket, looking at the calendar... And then a whimper escapes your lips when you see that this is only the first day of estrus, and you just lean back on the bed, wiping the tears from his face.

[quarterlifekitty]

So I've been wanting a dog for SO long and I'm still not in a position to get one in good conscience, but together with a partner it could maybe be possible. How would the CoD men react to you suggesting getting a dog together? And also, what kind of dog would they want? And what would they want to name it?

Hope you realize that they’re gonna get deployed at some point and then it’s your dog lol

Gaz wants very classic, intelligent medium-large dog. German Shepard, Labrador, malamute, something like that. And he acts like he’s your dad when you ask about it. Like “are you sure we can handle the responsibility???” Like I dunno Kyle if you’re telling me that I can trust you with an automatic rifle in a foreign country but I can’t trust you to co-parent a dog then I’m not paying my fucking taxes this year. Anyway, it likes him more even though you’re the principal food giver, and it has a simple, pretty name like Lucy or Daisy.

You’re going to have to ask Soap about getting a dog on your second date if you wanna beat him. This man is 100% the type to bring home an animal without asking or telling you. Terrier of some kind— friend of his was giving away puppies and he couldn’t help himself because without you he has no impulse control. You come home to the puppy tearing into one of his boots and you’re like “Johnny. What is this.” And he’s like “That’s Gargamel” as if that should satisfy all of your curiosity.

Ghost is kinda reluctant. He doesn’t think of himself as nurturing. He doesn’t like noise. He’s all “if we’re gonna have a dog, it’s gonna need discipline from day one”. You get a mutt from a shelter, some pit bull mix. On day 2 he’s letting his leg fall asleep because the dog is sleeping on his lap. It has a generic dog name, like Spike.

Price thinks a dog is a good idea. Could keep you company while he’s away, and you probably need some more time to warm up to living with him before he suggests a baby. He insists you decide on the breed because you’ll be spending the most time with it, but he’s clearly very biased. He’s pushing for a dog with floppy ears. This man wants a wrinkly dog. You’re getting a basset hound, is what I’m saying. He decided when you brought up getting a dog. The dog gets a rank, also. Sergeant Columbo. Sarge for short.

König does not realize this, but his favored breeds are all intelligent, somewhat violent, and require a lot of grooming. Childishly, he doesn’t love the idea of getting a dog because it means sharing your attention with an animal, but at the same time he feels it would be cruel to deny you that considering that he can’t be home all of the time. You get a poodle or a bedlington terrier. It has a cute name like Mitzi, but like. That thing is tearing squirrels to shreds. And he loves it. But it loves you more.

Nikolai agrees on a dog, so long as it has utility as well as being a companion. He’ll get you a doberman, and it’ll be trained at a highly rated obedience school, and further trained by him to basically defend you to the death. And you can tell him that you don’t think anyone is ever gonna try to pull anything on you while this dog is around, but he just says it doesn’t hurt to be careful. Its name is something edgy like Dante, Mephistopheles, Cerberus. He thinks a scary dog needs a scary name, even if it acts like a puppy when it’s around you.

[imsoquarky]

Happy 2025

This is a late new years post I know

Happy first week of 2025! I have a lot of goals this year, uploading more often to build my social media presence is one of them! I even intend on streaming more often.

I didn't finish this drawing on the 1st, but it was the very first thing I sketched in 2025. I struggled with the background and am still not 100% satisfied, but I'm working on being less of a perfectionist so I can actually upload stuff lol.

♠️ - ♣️ - ♥️ - ♦️

Small update: I'm going to be posting on Bluesky now! Turns out I made an account a bit back but forgot because I never posted. Any moots that wanna add me on there feel free to do so! (@/qu4rky, but it can also be found in my carrd below the cut)

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[misc-obeyme]

Wait a minute, Barbatos listens to heavy metal? In which of the games is the sacred chat that included this juicy little fact mentioned? Is it a daily chat or is it obtainable from a card?

Affinity with heavy metal suits him very well, honestly.

I absolutely love when a character's personality is founded on a particular 'theme,' a specific range of generally interconnected interests, as well as a determined set of qualities—only for an unrelated/unexpected trait, quirk, hobby, talent or interest to sneak up and add a quaint pop of entertainment and relatability to their person.

Barbatos adores tea, likes cleaning, and tends to tiny demons, which are all things that give a sort of serene, domestic tinge to his figure. Yet, he indulges in the genre of heavy metal. And I think that that's such a satisfying, realistic shade to his personality palette because the truth is that one individual can hold so many differences within them, and some of those differences may at times be starkly opposing. And that is so intriguing.

Except in this case, I don't think Barbatos's appreciation for heavy metal is 'unrelated' to him per se or even a difference at all; in fact, it's woven with his being and who he is. Because of course, despite the calmness, fondness for tea, and intricate skills in making all sorts of sweet and savoury delicacies—aspects that craft an almost soft, meditative aura around him—he's also a thinker with a sense of wisdom and a badass who displays a multitude of talents while appreciating a musical genre famous for its loud intensity (which at first glance 'opposes' his general calm image and eloquent manner of speech).

So this is where I point out that this very 'difference' is perfect, since it's also a core similarity in and of itself; after all, Barbatos is intense and thoughtful, just like heavy metal itself (even though the genre has this unfair, unfortunate stereotype of being 'aggressive noise only'). What I mean to say is, this preference Barbatos has is merely an extension of his self and a representation of the parts of it that are not immediately apparent. It may seem startling at the beginning, but in my opinion, it makes so much sense that he would appreciate heavy metal.

He has lived for a very, very long time and that existence came with thousands upon thousands of experiences that shaped his mindset, temperament and wisdom, as well as gave him depth. I assume he found that heavy metal resonates with him in some ways. Perhaps it is not only admiration for the deep lyrics or relation to them, but also how the intense volume might help him vicariously express certain emotions.

In all honesty, it would be nice to see what young Barbatos was like. Now it's just rats that make him lose his marbles and go from 0 to 100 in the course of a millisecond. His anger is often pretty much covert otherwise. How interesting it would be to catch a glimpse of his wild days of youth—Barbatos being outwardly wrathful, spitting out what's on his mind without restraint, immediately resorting to violence, and even getting jealous because he's still young and hasn't yet attained the wisdom and maturity all that experience has to offer.

This is way longer than I intended it to be, but the subject piqued my interest, I love rock and admire the depth of thought in it and heavy metal, and overanalysing and overthinking are best friends of mine lol

The chat is from OG and I'm like... 99.999% sure that it's with the group The Fantastic Three. I remember Lucifer apologizing for Asmo who decided to perform some heavy metal at an event or something. And Barbatos was like, actually I like heavy metal. And Lucifer and Diavolo were both like ???

But for the life of me, I cannot find it. I thought it was a daily chat, but I can't find it. Maybe it's from a card? Does anyone know exactly which chat that is??

Anyway, I agree with everything you're saying. I very much headcanon that Barbatos has a lot of depth that we simply don't see. This because he hides it deliberately. I think he does this because he feels he has to have a certain demeanor, not just as Diavolo's butler and as a role model to him, but also because he feels he was too wild in his past. He wants to project that image of perfect calm and competence.

Despite all that, Barbatos is still a being with emotions and I really like the idea that heavy metal in particular speaks to him. Listening to it allows him to sit with some feelings that he normally represses. It helps him work through them instead of letting them fester.

I also think an indication of a well written character is when that character has unexpected traits. It's impossible to make a character as nuanced as a real person, but you can create the illusion of it by giving them depth. Barbatos feels like he has so much happening beneath the surface, so many pieces to him that we haven't discovered yet. It's one of the reasons I love him so much.

Who is he when he lets himself go? I have spent too much time thinking about that.

And how interesting it would be to see how he was when he was younger...

[luneemeritus]

Angel Dust love/appreciation post

With all the horrendous negativity sorrounding Angel Dust these days, I decided to make a post dedicated to love and appreciate him. It's 2024 and we still need to defend victims. It's like we moved backwards, specially considering that most individuals that hate Angel for... some reason? Call themselfs progressists. Lmao. What a sick joke. But let's foccus on what's good: Angel.

• Angel was willing to have sex with Alastor only to help Charlie. He doesnt like Alastor, he thinks Al is creepy and untrustworthy, and if he filmed himself having sex with Al, he would piss off Valentino (doing work "without his permission" to help someone Val heavily dislikes, after all, Charlie is helping him). So Angel was putting himself in danger and willing to fuck the stinky deer bastard just to help Charlie. HE LOVES HER SO MUCH, I CANT.

• Angel is so protective. He is so brave, he tried everything he could to keep Charlie away from Val, even yelling at her because her safety is more important for him. He grabbed Niffty like a baby to protect her from the loansharkers that were chasing Mimzy, he took the knife out of Niffty's hand, he stood up against Val to defend Niffty, and, unlike Charlie, she wasnt very close to him. But he just cares so much about his friends. It's so beautiful.

• The whole scene when Angel tells Val to fuck off. Just this. It's so fucking satisfying to see Angel being so strong and brave. Of course he will need help eventually, no one can be strong forever, but still. I'm so proud of him.

• Angel rejects Cherri's offer (drug) without shaming her or considering her less of a friend. He still loves her, supports her and is always there for her no matter what ❤️

• He didnt only stayed in the Hotel even after knowing Adam would target them first, he was also so invested in fighting back and protecting the Hotel. What a good boy 🥹

• When Vaggie throw him along with Pentious, he didnt ran away nor left Pentious to die alone (considering how both him and Vaggie were not trusting him), he fought back, protected Pentious and supported him after they were safe. And keep in mind that Pentious was both working for the Vees AND slutshamed Angel. But Angel didnt hold grudge (honestly he's better than me, my petty ass would be 100% pettier)

• The simple fact that Angel opened up to Husk was an act of strenght. This was so hard for him. The facade "helped" him to stay "untouched" and "safe" from humiliation, but it only made him self destruct. Letting go of that facade and ADMITING that he needs help is so, so hard. But he did it. Angel I love you

• The way he was so heartbroken by Pentious's death 🥺💔 "you did good, buddy" HEEELLPPP

• His protectiveness is beyond his friends, he saved the little egg boy in the cuntiest way possible, he's so fucking kind and brave, HE SLAYED.... (literally)

• As some people love to point Angel's past in the mafia (I mean, their ASSUMPTIONS on what Angel's mafia past was lol) to prove that "he is such a terrible person", I'd love to point out how he's terrified and disgusted by cruelty (Alastor's, Val's, Adam's) and only uses to violence when he needs to defend himself. From the men that wanted to drug and assault him in EP4, defending their territorry from Pentious in the pilot, defending the Hotel from literally every danger, from the mob that wanted to kill him in that very old pre-pilot comic. In conclusion, he is not a cruel person.

• And still speaking of that topic: he can handle himself. And that's fantastic. Every single time he used a gun, he ate 💅

• CHARLIE GRABBED HIS HAND IN THE FINALE 😭😭😭 it's so beautiful I love theeeemmm

• And of course, he stopped acting inapropriately towards Husk because he understood what he was doing is wrong. His haters are unable to see how much Angel improves himself, but it's not easy to let go of a problematic behaviour when called out. Angel I love you so much

• The way he was chasing Fat Nuggets when the Hotel was destroyed 🥺🥺🥺 such a wonderful pet dad ❤️

• There are different interpretations for Angel's reaction when Husk tells him "I guess you have changed", but I just love how he doesnt take pride or talks about himself, because that was not his priority. He wanted to foccus on living, helping and supporting his friends, spending his time wisely with people he cared about. I love you Angel

• Angel is unapologetically feminine, sensual, free and queer. This is awesome. He would be the best freak at Pride Parades. Be like Angel, be unapologetically yourself, live freely.

Now just look at cute pictures of this patootie

He's so pretty. I love him. Thanks for reading. Live laugh love Angel Dust

[cantareincminor]

Day 7: Best Moment

Hands down, Chapter 86 of the manga. I know it's not a single moment but I can't really boil it down to just one.

The entire mole hunt arc was top notch. The ending made it even better. And not just because of the infamous Twilight Shower Scene.

It starts in the sewer, when Twilight tells a half-truth to Nightfall about why he spared Yuri:

I'm a sucker for whenever Twilight has these moments (of which there are several in this arc). That exact expression. His eyes say it all. He's defeated, shaken, not "himself." He can barely admit the truth to himself, but he has to come up with some kind of explanation to satisfy his colleague and the rest of WISE when he writes the mission report.

That "for the mission" defense isn't holding up so well anymore, is it, Twilight?

His solemn, defeated mood continues as he heads home as an ordinary civilian:

Again, the eyes say it all. He looks up at his apartment with something like dread. It takes effort to raise his head. He looks to be walking slowly. Like he doesn't want to be there. He knows he's heading into a difficult conversation after an already difficult day where he made a nearly fatal "mistake" and almost lost his life.

Then, against all expectations, Yor welcomes him with the sweetest smile, to the point where she has a halo around her head in his eyes. Once again, Yor defies all that he thinks he knows about human nature and women!

Look at him. That tiny dot of a mouth looks so cute. He's stunned, unable to process. I won't copy paste all the fainting he does since I don't want to copy paste the whole chapter!

So many miniature golden Twiyor moments and shoujo filter close-ups of Yor here. I love how soft her expression is, the contemplative look in her eyes and the shape of her smile. Yor isn't the best at expressing herself in words, especially when it comes to her own wants and desires, but when she tells the truth, it hits hard. She feels comfortable enough with Loid to tell him what's really on her mind, what she wants! What a major milestone for her.

Twilight looks so adorable up there! He's listening and absorbing her words. His mind is not on overdrive. It's just focused solely on Yor. What a sweet, slow moment.

Then, there's this beautiful panel of them in the midst of all this white space. Completely focused on each other, at face level, sitting on the ground. Not putting on a front, just talking as husband and wife. Other fans have analyzed this a lot so I won't say much more.

Side note, it's kind of funny that right after this Yuri bursts in, and while Loid springs to his feet immediately, Yor is still sitting on the ground. I wonder if Yuri noticed his sister was randomly sitting on the ground? What could that have implied? Allow me to have a bit of a dirty mind here, lol, it reminds me of this iconic sentence in @miss---nothing's amazing fic Little Deaths, "What makes you think we haven't sullied the floor?"

Ahem. Finally, there's Twilight's reflection on all of this:

Finally admitting that Yor is a weakness. That she is the reason he "slipped up" so horrendously and left himself extremely vulnerable, not only with debilitating injuries he could have avoided (which then cost him the fight with Wheeler), but by leaving an SSS agent alive and wondering why the hell the most notorious spy of the West would spare his life! That is a HUGE risk to take!

I just love the character development, the epiphanies, that shine through in this chapter. Twilight's still taking baby steps emotionally, but when we really think about it, he legitimately fulfilled his vow he made all the way back in Chapter 14:

He took a bullet for Yor!! Literally!! Actions speak louder than words.

He won't admit he loves her (probably will take 100 more chapters for that LOL), but he sees her as a "weakness." Which places him on the path toward that elusive point in the distance.

All in all, this is the chapter I have reread the most. It'll take a lot to top it in my mind!

[eybefioro]

HAPPY HOLIDAYS @ghostsparrow 💛💛💛

The TNAN server hosted a secret santa, and Sparrow said he love pirates AUs and space AUs. I immediately thought about treasure planet, so here it is <3 thank you @captainblou for organising it!!!

Wacky races - fairly odd parents - powerpuff girls - scooby doo - adventure time - Cowardly dog - JJBA

(Time-lapse and ramblings under the cut)

Extra long Time-lapse this time as a THREAT.

I remember NOTHING about Treasure Planet's plot, but the ✨️Aesthetics✨️ are seared in my brain forever. I mean-

HOW COOL IS THAT. I love this retrofuturistic(?) Style, the mix between robots and cyborgs and SPACE with uniforms and SHIPS. It's just soooooo good.

I didn't really followed 100% this Disney style, more the idea of it. I've been trying to find my footing and draw stuff without replicating each stylistic choice. Idk if I succeed or not but it was fun!

One thing about this is that even if it's not perceptible here, the perspective is a bit huh... different. I had to figure it out by trial and error, and this end up having 4 focal points.

(Sorry this prob doesn't make that much sense but it was the only way for me to show it lol)

DO YOU SEE THOSE NICE RED AND GREY LINES?? I learned how to use rulers on ibispaint and NOW I AM UNSTOPPABLE. I know how to draw perspective by hand, on paper, but on my phone it was impossible. The screen is too small, and the precision too crappy since I don't have a proper pen. But now with this thing I can assure the line is straight and that direction is right, and now I can do nice perspectives hell yes!

This drawing I did of muriel and Eric is were I was testing stuff out. The rulers, the perspective, the not copying any style thing.

I'm not super satisfied with the end result of this perspective here, bc I wanted to make something more warped, more dynamic/stretched but I really don't know how to do that yet so simple perspective it is lol

This drawing was also supposed to accompany a fic, but it took me too long to do this, so I didn't had the time to write it. Maybe one day...

Now with details that I liked:

STAR FRECKLES THAT FLOAT OVER CROWLEY'S FACE! Also he needs sunscreen. Have tou seen his thighs? LMAO

The rendering g on Aziraphale’s clothes! Especially the trousers. I think this might be my best clothes that I painted so far. I'm getting better at this :D I was inspired by Aziraphale’s bastille and Edinburgh looks, + Mr Fell magician cape (and also the uniforms from treasure planet). I hope it looks OK in the end, I had too much fun mixing all this together lol

Earth colonised by two opposing forces. I spent too long playing with this concept and how to draw it lol I hope it looks nice!

[whimsywilde]

Astarion's Mirror

I couldn't get this out of my head after seeing the idea mentioned somewhere. (A TikTok comment maybe?) I haven't written fanfic since DAI. How am I back at this again? I'm not 100% satisfied with it but if I fiddle too much, I'll lose interest and it will disappear in the WIP folder. lol Enjoy!

Thank you Larian Studios and Neil Newbon for this incredible, beautiful, heartbreaking character!

Recommened Listening: THE FEELS by Labrinth

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“Astarion…” she paused, hesitating, uncertain if the thought that had just danced across her mind would actually work. Sometimes she forgot he was a vampire. His lack of burning up in the sun tended to put his condition out of her mind. The mirror in his hand, however, had brought it back in stark relief. But… what if?

“As adorable as you are when thinking, I can’t help but feel there was more you wanted to say than just my name.” He smirked at her.

She resisted the urge to fall back into their playful banter. “What if you could see yourself… I mean, sort of.”

“What?” It was more of a whispered plea than a question. “How?”

“I’m not sure if it will work. But, the parasites… they’ve let us see into one another's minds before. It makes sense that we could see more.”

She hadn’t really been looking at him while she spoke, her eyes focused on some invisible point in the distance. Turning her attention more directly to him, his expression caught her off guard. She’d never seen him so vulnerable.

“We don’t have to. I’m not even completely sure it would work. I’ve never really tried to use it before. I just thought….”

“Would you try?” He interrupted, his voice still unnaturally hesitant, absent of the bravado she was used to. “Please.” It was almost an afterthought but may have been the most sincere she’d ever heard him.

She smiled tightly, worried now she’d be unable to connect that way, before closing her eyes and reaching for that alien presence within her mind. She hated the feeling of the cold shiver in her skull as she consciously connected to it and then, taking a breath, eyes tightly shut, reached out to where she felt she’d find Astarion. 

At first the connection was light, barely perceptible, like cobwebs in the breeze. After focusing on it for a few seconds, reaching out to it with uncertain hands, it seemed to expand. With her eyes still tightly closed, it was the tide of emotions slowly rolling up in the shore of her mind that hit her first. The anticipation, hopeful expectation, fear and worry. She resisted the urge to retreat from the intensity of his feelings and the jumbled, wordless thoughts that came with them and, again, focused past them. After several seconds, she was surprised to suddenly find herself looking through Astarion’s eyes at herself. She stilled to allow the image of herself solidify in her mind. 

Her eyes opened slowly. She allowed her gaze to linger near Astarion’s feet as gained confidence in the connection. The impatience he was feeling rushed to greet her through the bond.

“Look at me.” It was something between a command and a plea.

She opened her mind to him as completely as she could, wanting him to know that she had no motivations behind her actions and lingering gaze other than to allow him to see himself clearly, to be a mirror. She took a deep breath, centered herself and began to slowly lift her eyes up his body. Her gaze was gentle and curious, more that of an artist studying their work, rather than the lusty intensity of a lover. She followed the narrow slope of his hips up his chest and across his shoulders, her eyes lingering for mere moments before moving on. As she reached his neck, there was a brief glance to the scars that had made him the creature he was, before following his perfectly coiffed hair around his face. 

Part of her still wanted to tease him, to play. They’d been having fun, taken next to nothing seriously while they traveled and fought together. Even when she allowed him to drink from her, always standing since him hovering over her had felt too intimate, she typically pushed him away afterward with a joke on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. It was easy and had been so natural to keep him just close enough without letting him in. The intensity of his feelings pouring into her now was more than she bargained for and she had a moment of regret for offering to even try. She didn’t want to feel so much. It left her vulnerable. Opened her up to much more than she wanted to be aware of. Her eyes had frozen at the base of his throat. Why couldn’t she bring herself to look up? She didn’t like the answers her heart was trying to give. His fingers curled lightly under her chin, lifting her face upward, pulled her attention back. 

Her eyes snapped up to his suddenly and he gasped. The light from the campfire flickered and flashed across brilliant crimson. My eyes. Those are my eyes. His thoughts came through their link in sharp clarity. Her attention refocused on allowing him to see his face after so long in the dark and allowed the intensity of what he was feeling to drown out her own heart. She didn’t need to exist for this moment. She was giving this gift and she allowed herself to fall back within to the place of an observer. With her surrender, it allowed him to direct her eyes across his features. He took himself in fully and they stood in hushed stillness, eyes and minds locked together. 

With their minds so fully blended, she almost didn’t notice her hand absentmindedly reaching out to rest lightly on the side of his face. He didn’t pull away. She used her thumb to pull gently at his bottom lip, exposing his fangs to her gaze. 

They passed several seconds that way before her hand dropped, her vision swirling and darkening. She felt her body sway heavily and would have fallen if Astarion hadn’t caught her. Her head was pounding while her stomach churned. She sent up a silent prayer, to whatever god may be listening, that she wouldn’t vomit.

Astarion supported her body against his gently. When she tried to push away from him, he lifted her carefully and carried her to her tent, laying her down on her bedroll. 

“You pushed yourself too far. You need to rest,” he scolded. She wanted to protest; to throw out some snarky remark in an attempt to catch him off guard so that they could go back to the superficial game they shared, but she couldn’t seem to measure out enough strength to respond. Sleep was quickly overtaking her. She was never sure if he’d actually turned to look at her before leaving the tent and whispered a strangled thank you or if it was just part of the fevered dreams of the night.

[cinnamonest]

hii!! do you think any gnsn yandere would go for anal with the intention of making it very pleasant for darling? like, "I'm telling you, it can feel so good" and "I read about it" (<- that's definitely Haitham lol) and maybe "I know what I'm talking about"

Yessss he would! Alhaitham thinks himself The Expert™ and that any fears you have are silly and unfounded. He takes the matter very seriously and has actually done his research, which, while he can be very annoying at his pretentiousness and stubbornness about it, is actually reassuring, because he does actually know what he’s doing, makes sure he gets in at an angle that will still press against the sweet spots that make you feel good, and keeps his hand practically latched to your clit too.

He develops quite the fixation, actually. You know, you can make this a regular thing, some people get into making it a lifestyle, and the thought appeals to him quite a bit. So he can train you, keep toys inside your ass throughout the day to ensure that if he ever wants it, it’ll be easy to access without having to go through the process of stretching you out a lot each time. And eventually, he can set a day or two per week — or maybe a full week per month? — where any other hole is off-limits, ensuring you get mentally adjusted as well.

Also, the man has a specific little fantasy he intends to fulfill... that is, he's into the idea of switching holes while he's fucking you. Having you on your back and railing you hard and fast, letting the slick fluid pour out of you and drip off his cock as gravity makes it trail downward, coating your asshole too... then pulling out and flipping you over onto your stomach before sliding into your ass, lubed by the grool your body already made for him, feeling you stiffen and clench and gasp... let him live that out just once, and he can die a happy man... well, he thinks that, but you let that happen once, there's no way he can leave it at once.

Albedo has something very similar going on, perhaps an even more intense fixation, although for him it’s part of a much larger pool of kinks and turn-ons ranging from fairly normal to outright depraved, and you’re not quite sure where this compulsive need to ream your poor ass falls on that scale. He’s just not content until he feels like he owns every part of you, and the more vulnerable and sensitive a part of you is, the more satisfying it is to take it for himself.

Still, he at least knows what he’s doing, and he has a way of keeping you calm with how gentle-sounding his voice is. He can also make you various consumables that act as either aphrodisiacs or numbing agents and so on, anything that enhances the good while diminishing any discomfort as much as possible (unless he’s mad and wants you to have some discomfort, of course).

He gives you the I know what I'm doing line quite a bit, and assures you that if you just calm down and hold still, it'll feel good... and he ends up being right, at least to some degree, as he also manages to make you cum that way.

He in particular develops an obsession with trying to get you to cum just from anal stimulation and nothing more, and no matter how slow and gradual the process may be, he's quite determined and patient with training you to achieve that, and it'll be all that much more rewarding when he finally does get the desired result.

But also, he uses his anatomical knowledge against you, because he knows you’ll take whatever he says seriously, so he will do his best to convince you of the therapeutic and health benefits of letting him cum in your ass, and unfortunately he’s actually quite convincing…

Childe’s on the list too, except it is 100% a lie and he does NOT actually have the requisite knowledge, he just has a level of confidence that is directly inverse-correlated to his IQ and it will become your problem. He’s alarmingly uneducated on something that by definition necessitates a lot of know-how to do properly, so please be on guard or else he will just approach it the same way he does pussy — trying to shove it in all in one swift motion, not enough lube, goes way too fast and hard, etc… he still wants it to feel good and insists it will, he just doesn’t actually have any idea what he’s talking about, so be wary and force him to slow down lest you suffer for not doing so.

[nouearth]

happy one year to nouearth!

okay, to be frank, the one year anniversary passed on the 15th, HAHA. but it's better late than never, right? i got so busy that i forgot to make a post celebrating this mini accomplishment!

it's craaaazy how fast time flew by. i actually never thought i'd be doing this little hobby for so long? i tend to have a habit of abandoning stuff i create online, but i'm glad i decided to stick around for longer because i've met so many amazing people (even though 99% of them are anons) from writing.

for a quick story time, i started this blog because i was reading a ton of miguel o'hara x male reader stories right after seeing across the spider-verse! i couldn't get enough of him, as you can see... it all led me to creating this blog.

one of the main reasons why i did was that i just wasn't really satisfied with the content? majorities of the stories were involving top!reader, and i think we need a healthy balance of both! two weeks later since that movie dropped, viola! i'm here, and my first fic ended up being 'joy-cons' with barry allen, HAHA. but i think my blog received a lot of attention with 'servicing justice' because i remember waking up to 100+ notes overnight, which was crazy to me! and then my fic got flagged and that drastically increased, but we won't dwell on that too much.

now, a year later, and i'm at 3.5k followers! numbers don't really mean much to me, since i'm sure only a handful actually interact and most are abandoned accounts, but i'm appreciative of all the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, and most importantly, patience! i've never felt so much love for my works before (and frankly, i don't think i deserve them, HAHA) but i'm glad a few of my fics can make an impact on someone's life, even if it's just for a few minutes of happiness.

i'll cut it short now, so thank you all so much for one year of making me feel less alone in my little life! i feel like i should do a q&a because that seems fun, but LOL I DON'T THINK PEOPLE WOULD CARE.

now, onto the next year?