#he has to file down his horns :(

[im-still-a-robot]

Even without horns, tiefling genes persist

[mutatiio]

maul is quite particular. you takes pride in how he looks and is very exact in how he presents himself. he fusses over the way his sleeves fall even though he's wearing pure black so it's difficult to even notice if something is wrong.

[toxycodone]

Laios x Beastkin!Reader

an. Senshi, Chilchuck, and Marcille x Reader are mentioned quiiiite a bit in here. Izutsumi x reader is more sparse. split between furry/scaly/feathery beastkin after the more general ones in the beginning. SORRY if the formatting is weird I got "text limited" a lot on this lmfao

this is a lot so. <3 show sum luv

general sfw

when you two first meet...bro is ELATED. He knows Izutsumi, which is fine, but you're an entirely different one. Who also doesn't seem to be super against him getting to know them

He asks SO many questions. What are you mixed with? Are you naturally born or artificial? What's it like having wings? A tail?

He's testing out all your features. He loves them so much.

When there's downtime, he likes to conduct "research". This goes for analyzing your features and making notes, comparing them to his books and other notes, and even more intricate tests like reaction time and stuff.

He'll hold a candle/torch by your face and test your pupil dilation. It's oddly intimate because he's just staring you down and its like. okay. are we gonna kiss orrrr

Loves. Loves. Loves just WATCHING you. Seeing the way you pounce on little bugs for fun or get spooked by certain noises. He just smiles and is all amused.

You'll catch him doodling you pretty often. He makes notes like "y/n caught a treasure bug today. They seem pretty skilled at hunting. Failed to kill it for some reason...just played with it until it scurried off." The doodles are like...surprisingly pretty decent. The monster portions of you are the best looking and most detailed. But it's so cool to see just how much he pays attention to you and your idiosyncrasies.

Your interactions with Izutsumi also interest him. Do you guys get along? Are you prey to her? Or is she to you? If you and Izu are talking or around each other he's watching like a hawk out of pure curiosity.

However...there's a particular page in his journal where he's providing feedback on how he would make you "better" aka cooler. It's basically just his own ramblings. No Laios, an extra set of eyes and the ability to breath fire and ice and everything in between is not. better. you're just salivating over the idea of your monster OC

If you bring this up to him he actually agrees. After a lot of note taking and observation he's really fascinated just on how well suited your entire existence is to...surviving. He has a lot of theories he'd love to share about you.

But he has e x t e n s i v e notes on your body. It's something that fr makes you blush because, why is he theorizing about the base of your tail and how it connects to your spine? and the number of nipples you have? wait...how is his guess right...?

But Laios is so useful. You might as well call him your owner. You don't have to lift a finger when it comes to taking care of yourself. (He misses his dogs so you fill in.)

He takes care of your skin/fur/scales/feathers, cuts your claws, helps you file down your hooves or horns. He's very into taking care of you if you'll let him. (Marcille also hops in on this since its her love language LOL. When she's not busy with Izutsumi she helps when she can.)

If you are like...afraid of water or don't enjoy bathing. You are like the party's pet. They're debating on how to get you clean before Chilchuck is like "if you don't take a bath I am going to kill you and throw you in there myself." Laios then goes all puppy dog eyed bc he thinks Chil is being to hard on you and then he sighs and is like "fine. I'll buy you a treat when we get back to the surface."

Marcille/Laios are really good when it comes to bath time. They aren't weird about it (Laios is checking you out but. In a curious type of way. Marcille is giving him side eye if hes getting too...Laiosy. But he respects your boundaries. Just imagine Laios happily scrubbing you while humming a tune awe.)

And when it comes to sleeping arrangements...you can alternate between anyone in the party. But Laios and Chilchuck are your best bets. Marcille is an excellent sleeping partner if the dreams don't bother you, shes soo happy to have you sleep with her and she's soft and smells nice.

Laios happily lets you sleep with him. He's actually not super cuddly (unless you are he'll reciprocate). But he is very much like, giving you a ton of space. If you fall asleep before him he just relents and sleeps as comfortably as he can around you lol. Literally just like any other pet owner.

Chilchuck....sleeping with him is difficult bc Izutsumi will fight you on it, but she relents if you can fit in without much issue (bonus points if you're warm) so. You guys can both overheat this poor man. Izu may even start cuddling with you more. She finds a lot of comfort in having another beastkin in the party even though she won't say it.

And speaking of Chilchuck...you're likely a bit more cooperative than Izutsumi, so he gets your help when it comes to checking for traps and finding treasure. With your elite hearing and other abilities, he's actually really pleasantly surprised how useful you are. (If you were a half-foot he'd definitely want you in his guild). He gives you pets and treats when the others aren't really paying attention (He doesn't want them to see him doting on you is all LOL).

Okay. So. Your diet. This is an anime about eating so. Let's get down to it.

Whether you're a herbivore, carnivore, or omnivore--Laios is ENSURING your needs are taken care of in the party. It is of upmost importance to him.

He takes notes and asks about how certain foods make you feel. Are you more energized? Less energized? Stomach hurting? Pooping well? (Will ask this with upmost sincerity, he wants to make sure the butter/milk/etc used in their cooking isn't interfering with your tummy. Whether you want to answer this is up to you lol).

Laios and Senshi happily adjust things to your needs. Laios will spend time foraging with you, Senshi will find certain monsters with more nutrients that meet your needs. Senshi is also like, really knowledgeable about nutrients, so sometimes in your food he may grind up shells or bones to meet calcium needs and such. When he cooks he'll give you bones or soften them up in water so you can eat the marrow. :-)

Senshi...is the coolest though. He also lets you perch on him (like Izutsumi) and since he's lived in the dungeon for so long, he knows a lot about monsters firsthand. If it applies, he'll give you tips about yourself or some monsters you should prey on. Senshi and you go on little foraging trips too. He'll have you sniff things out in return for extra food during dinner.

Laios likes to see you hunt prey and eat it raw, though. Everyone else would rather not and it makes them sick but he thinks it is SO cool. He honestly wishes he could do that. He takes hunting lessons from you and will give you tips on being stealthier and such.

Your teeth really fascinate him. He likes testing your bite strength on different types of material (Like wood, stone, bones, etc.). He'll stick his fingers in your mouth and admire them if youd let him. He gives you so much praise in general its so cute.

AND. PETTING YOU. He is so tactile if you let him (i mean look how much he tries and fails to pet izutsumi). When you give him the all clear he is like. jumping for joy. he LOVES to pet you and praise you. He absentmindedly pets you when hes sitting down or standing by you. And when you nuzzle into his touch his heart SOARS. You can see on his face he's blushing and has that like. excited wiggly smile <3

I think when he's just sitting around he just messes with your tail. He likes it.

Lay down beside him and he will happily pet you and be like "do you like this? Is this a good spot?" Present. Your belly to him. and he is over the moon. He pets you wildly and is like "Who's a good boy/girl/monster?" He is so unashamed about doing this too. Chilchuck would put a stop to it if you didn't like it so much.

If you give him kisses or tongue bath's he's eating that shit up (i mean. look at those extra comics w him and dogs he lets dogs just kiss all over his face omfg). He isn't a huge fan of getting his hair wet (sensory issue) but when it's your drool...he can't help but be excited. Laios is all like "they're grooming me?? this means they like me, right??? Can I officially say I befriended a monster???"

It's proof that you care for him and view him as apart of your pack...he is just over the moon at this.

I will say...Laios is way too "has no backbone with you" for a while. You're chewing shoes? You can't help it! Stealing snacks? It's instinctual! Playing too rough with Izutsumi? C'mon guys...

But when he notices his party actually getting upset. You will be surprised how he can put his foot down. Not even max puppy eyes work on him. He will leash and muzzle you if needed.

But you can always get away with messing with his stuff. He thinks its fun to chase you around when you got his shirt in his maw. Then he happily wears the torn up gear and Marcille is like "let me sew it..."

For Scaly Beastkin:

He's so helpful when it comes to shedding season. Laios finds nice rocks all the time and helps scrape off any patches that are drying and crusting and hes not even phased and doesn't think its gross at all. He would keep some skin to test its resilience if you let him.

And going with that, when you need to shed and soak he would help you find a place and will happily assist with the shedding. He's so excited to be there honestly. But he feels bad you are uncomfortable so he lets you cuddle up under the water with him while you wait for your shed to soften up <3

Laios runs his fingers over your scales absentmindedly...just loves feeling how smooth they are, especially after he spent so much time helping them maintain that pristine smoothness.

He gets Marcille's help to make a moisturizing ointment to put on you every now and then so you don't get to dried out in the dungeon!! Marcille starts to fret about that too. You're just kinda chillin and she'll reach over and put ointment on your hands/cheeks/tail. Just areas you may be susceptible to drying out.

Also...he lets you use him as a heating rock. Sunshine is really limited in the dungeon, so...when you need a warm up he's there and waiting and extremely excited to warm you up with a hug.

For Furry Beastkin:

Brushes you. He'd do this EVERY evening (and morning) if you let him. He takes notes, too. Do you have an undercoat? Or is it just one? What does this mean about what environment you originated from?

He probably tries to use your shed fur to embellish his own clothes or put in his pillow/blankets. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle I guess?

And to add to that...remember how Marcille made a cute little cat head from Izutsumi's fur? He does that too. He and Marcille make cute little shapes outta your shed and giggle together about it.

If you get fleas...he is the party member you should tell. He'll help you get rid of them and won't rat you out to the other members LOL. He'd probably blame himself if it spread and the rest of the party is like "you expect us to beleive. you got fleas. Laios you would be excited if you got them."

For Feathered Beastkin:

Preening....<3. When you have pin feathers he is so sweet and gentle. gently picks them out. It kinda tickles bc he's just gliding his fingers over your wings. You'll catch him sighing in content and burying his face in the softness. It's so sweet.

He collects your feathers and shows them off to Marcille (who also really likes them.) Your down is SO useful too. The party has the softest blankets and pillows thanks to you. When you're molting everyone is calling dibs on the feathers to stuff in their bedding.

Laios examines your wingspan and is really interested on stuff like weather you can fly or not. If you can, he's in awe. He wants to see it. Maybe even fly with you if he can. Its always been a dream of his to do that.

nsfw

tw (for nsfw). monsterfucking? if that counts. mentions of vent/cloaca/knot

This man. It is so easy to tell overtime just how fucking horny he gets over monster stuff. He is addicted to just how much you differ from him. Your scales, fur, feathers, wings, etc....he thinks they're all extremely sexy.

He just loves the primal aspect of it? Like you act on instinct. Do what makes you happy. Like of course you have human reasoning and such but STILL. You're so non human and otherworldly it makes his stomach knot up and his dick hard as a rock. He wants to know EVERYTHING about you.

If you have a heat/rut cycle...he is. fucking. begging you come to him for help. jfc you don't even have to let him stick his dick in you. He just slowly probes your hole with his fingers and legit GASPS when he feels it clench around him. Not only is he learning so much about you and monster anatomy but hes also having his monster fucking dreams come true.

I mean it is a given with Laios but his fucking face is always in your hole. He loves eating pussy/ass so fucking much. And having your dick, clit, or knot down his throat drives him wild. He eats your slick and cum like he's starving. He's so sloppy with it too--there's spit and slick and cum all over his face and he's just slurping it all up like its his last meal.

He definitely "examines" you. He'll stick his fingers in you and stretch out your hole just to get a better look at what's inside. (imagine his thumbs sliding in and prying you open.) The muscles pulsating and the color and the smell...god he's drooling. You feel all vulnerable and exposed but he's just constantly praising how amazing your body and its functions are.

He busts so quick with a beastkin it....wow. Like. You are seriously all he has ever dreamed of and shit. I can't imagine he'd be able to contain himself. He cums and just still wants more, he fucks you through the overstimulation until he cries

Oh he wants to know whats in your pants so bad its ridiculous. Like. I cannot explain just how much he is vibrating with excitement

If you have a cloaca...he's very gentle with your hole at first. You explain to him what to look for, what feels good. He'll gently explore with his fingers until he finds the right hole and then he's going at it. He's shoving his tongue in there happily too. He knows what a cloaca is. He knows it's a singular vent for waste and sexual functions. Doesn't matter. His tongue is going in there. Laios is beyond excited to taste everything and see what makes you squirm.

If you have a knot...it's a given he wants you to knot him. It takes him a few tries (he can't take your knot at first because he's too tight) but when he finally is able to its like. euphoric for him. He loves feeling your warm cum in his ass and your desperate pants against his throat as your overstimulated self gets adjusted to being stuck to him. Gods.

Plus...I've discussed this on my blog in more detail but with a beastkin reader he's definitely into

You biting/scratching him up. He lovvveess being marked. Use him as a chew toy PLEASE

Predator/Prey rp: He's a trained hunter but he wouldn't mind being hunted...He loves how strong you are and how you can turn the tables on him if you wanted.

Just?? You being feral?? He likes it when you act more like your monster side and just treat him like a toy.

Breeding Kink: Even if you aren't able to get pregnant or breed (either due to sex or incompatible genetics due to being part monster), he's still really into it. You can fill him up vice versa...He loves the feeling of having you last inside him and he loves knowing you're still filled up from him. Plus, it adds to the more animalistic part of sex which is what he likes

[azure-bluet]

A visit to Snowchester 🏘️❄️

This was originally a request for the expression + palette challenge, but I got a bit carried away.

Some design notes and closeups under the cut!

Techno:

Techno has golden streaks and golden scars with two emeralds from the Totem he used to save him from the execution.

He wears an emerald earring that matches with Phil.

The roses and thorns are to show how something beautiful can also spill blood, and as a reference to the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. The ruby gem that connects to them represents a droplet of blood.

Tubbo:

Tubbo's right side is significantly more scarred since he instinctively turned left when he was executed. He also rised both arms to subconsciously try to protect himself from the fireworks, losing two left fingers and leaving his right arm very fragile in the incident. He lost his right arm when he jumped to protect Tommy from a firework during Doomsday.

He has a long scar on the left side of his face from the battle with Tommy in the destroyed Community House. Tommy has a matching one on his right side.

His horns are still growing, not fully formed yet (he's a cow hybrid). One of his horns is scarred from him trying to file it down when it started to grow during New L'Manberg, but didn't manage to do it.

He wears Tommy's red bandana around his neck, but will swap its placement depending on what he's doing.

Ranboo:

Ranboo has very light tear scars on their cheeks from being half ghast and crying ghast tears. Since they're not fully ghast, the tears are so acidic they burn their skin.

They have a dandelion on their horn, given to them by Tommy. Tommy, in turn, has a netherite earring with an ender eye on his.

In the background, set in Tubbo's house, we can see a vase with two pink tulips, given to him by Ranboo, and the "Your Tommy" compass. It's snowing outside.

[diejager]

Imagine that the hybrid 141 was getting a teammate and that teammate was a hybrid and Laswell wanted it to be a surprise for the team what they are as in hybrid was and soon as they get off the aircraft and onto the tarmac, the boys realize that they’re with another dragon hybrid and her “heat” would be soon upon her (dark blue in to black better for stealth or, whatever you prefer, she also has her wings) how would the boys handle that you can take the story anyway you want 

This… I might make it self-indulging because this idea has been clawing at the back of my mind for a long while. Cw: mating/heat cycle, fire/water magic, tell me if I missed any.

Laswell had Price wait for the surprise she had planned, the secret she kept from them when they received your file. It had all he asked for in attributes and skills, but all things personal that should have been on it were scratched out in black. He was told that it was a need to know basis, your name, age or species wouldn’t be divulged unless you told them yourself. He knew you from words from mouth to ear, ad read of your skill and efficiently but nothing he heard and found told him an ounce about you as a person. Your character was a mystery he died to know.

So when he got word from Laswell that your ETA was just over half an hour, he had the boys reconvene to the airstrip, watching the aircraft carrying you land not too far from them, the rotors slowing to a steady thrum. The anticipation that bubble din his chest made this moment crawl at a snail’s pace, the ramp lowering too slowly for his liking and the droning sound of the aircraft’s irking his ears. Then, seconds after the ramp fully dropped, he caught sight of blue horns, tines growing from a singular robust beam, segmented like those of a scale. Your head, covered by a custom made helmet to let your antlers peek out and sit comfortably on your head (at least you wore something, unlike his constant frustration with finding one that wouldn’t bother his horns), followed after you walked out, decked in your gear and a bag slung over your shoulders. 

You weren’t what he was expecting, not exactly. He read that you had a masterful experience in hydromancy, stealing water from the air and humidity and contorting it to cause havoc in the field and cutting through the enemy. He and the others shared their theories, one possibility made you into a water witch, a leviathan, or one of those creepy monsters from the deep sea. Not what… whatever you were. You had elk-like horns painted in the deepest blue he’d ever seen and a tail covered in scales of the same shade, glistening under the light like it was wet with tufts of hair - or was it fur? - crawling down the base of your fourth limb to create a silky and soft end with long, slowing locks. 

What were you? What was that smell? It got sweeter the closer you got, a softness that clung to his nose and made him salivate. He wondered how strong it must be for the Soap and König who’s noses were more enhanced and sensitive than any others, they’d probably sniff the source - you - out and answer his undying question.

“Captain Price,” you nodded your head, a small smile gracing your lips, your slitted eyes narrowed in greeting, “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

That sweetness lingered around you and stuck to his hand when you shook hands, giving him a firm shake and stronger grip that he could admire for the strength you showed. Had you face been as bright as it was a few seconds before? Perhaps it was the musk that oozed off you, it was uneasily addicting and pleasing to his lizard brain, slowly moving the cogs of hos old machine. He watched you take a step back, making some distance between his Task Force and you, and his mind got clearer, nose less stuffy and cheeks wash away the slight flush. Then it hit him, the sweetness, the dazed perception of you and the growing need in his body, he was reacting to you. 

“Sorry, I was told I’d be off for the week once I landed,” you cocked your head, sharing an apologetic smile, “My cycle follows the Lunar year.”

Ah, everything made more sense now, the gracefulness of your beautiful tail, the glistening of your scales and the sharpness of your horns. He had agreed to welcome another dragon to his Task Force, he was fortunate that Asian dragons were calmer and benevolent than his European counterpart. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[rae-writes]

An Angel...

om demons x reader (+Simeon, Solomon)

wc : 1.k

warnings : simping bois, humor, some sprinkled suggestive comments

synopsis : a deviltok trend has the boys on their knees for you (though that’s nothing new)

a/n : this audio scratches an itch in my brain and I needed to do something with it

angel ver. 

<Asmodeus> GUYS!!!  YOU HAVE TO WATCH THIS!!!! NOW!!!!! LIKE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

[attachment sent]

Casually clicking on the video file, his interest peaked immediately when he saw you. Clad in your RAD uniform, you were positioned in frame a couple steps back. 

“Who are you?” 

He watched you slowly stalk forward with a smile on your face; it was both reassuring and off putting. Only someone like him would be able to notice. 

“An angel…”

You held out your hand towards the camera gently, as if beckoning someone closer. 

“What’s your name?”

The transition was fast— smooth. In an instant, your hand came up and grabbed the phone, like you were choking someone, causing the frame to shake. 

“Satan.”

Once the shaking transition stopped, with your hand still in its previous position, his mouth dropped. You had completely transformed yourself into what he assumed is your version of their demon form. 

Realistic black sheep horns protruded from your head, curling backwards around your ear and ending at your middle jaw. There were light purple extensions added here and there, blending with your hair perfectly. Your free hand had come up to splay over your malicious grin- showing off the fangs you’d added and the sharpness of your new nails. The outfit you wore was revealing- black with shiny accents and shiner jewelry - easily showing the intricate marks you’d drawn over the exposed skin. 

[8 people saved a video attachment] 

Lucifer

His stupidly handsome face forms the most obnoxious smug smirk imaginable 

Don’t get me wrong, he was absolutely flustered. On the inside. 

On the outside though, he radiated pride and smugness 

Like ‘yeah. That’s my Mc. mine. Eat it.’ 

Not that he would ever speak those words. Totally not

Was he also slightly bugged that Asmo seemed to be the only one who had access to this video? Sure. 

Was he gonna make sure his brothers, Diavolo, and Barbatos deleted this from everything they owned? Of course. 

But first, he’s gotta get you to dress up like that for him in person 

Mammon

Mans was astonished. Eyebrows had shot through the heavens, mouth was dropped down to sea floor level, cheeks were a blazing inferno— he was in awe 

First thought : ‘HELL YEAH, MC, YA LOOK HOT!’ 

Second thought : ‘WAIT HOLD UP, THE OTHERS ARE SEEIN THIS TOO-‘ 

Really though, Mammon is just so in awe at how gorgeous you looked 

especially in that gold he knows he bought you

Immediately takes a screenshot of you in that getup and makes it his home screen wallpaper

Then he texts you, begging demanding you dress up like that again because he wants to make videos with you in his demon form too!

I mean, if he doesn’t get to have his hands all over you and his mouth on you like that, how will anyone get the message you’re only for him?

Levi

Someone call the equivalent of 911 for the Devildom, Levi might just be coding 

Actually- don’t even worry about it, he’s just a big puddle on the floor! No worries! 

He. Is. FLUSTERED! Flustered doesn’t even begin to cover it really- 

Levi can't breathe, can’t talk, can’t even wave his hands around frantically to express his lost words

Irl version of a windows restart. 

But as soon as he does reboot, he’s doing his best impression of Oprah into his pillow with how high pitched he’s screaming 

Would love to take a picture with you in that outfit while he’s in his demon form or have you sit on him 

He’ll send you a bunch of emojis in show of his approval but his normal skin tone still isn’t visible under the blush for hours

Satan

Smug as fuck about the audio itself. Definitely silently bragging

Aside from that, Satan is absolutely willing to kneel for you in that outfit 

He’s studied with you on seductive speechcraft but this? He was not ready

Has to take a minute to get his bearings together and to wipe that blush off his face

Satan’s actually pretty speechless for a good 30 minutes 

Not that he’d let you know. He will, however, be telling you how fucking good you looked

Wants to ask if you’ll walk around town with him in his demon form too so everyone can see 

Power couple ™— Take that Lucifer 

Asmo

Azzy is on his knees in an instant- pliant and ready for you to fucking step all over him 

The moment he saw the video he was liking, favoriting, commenting, saving, sharing- everything 

He’d suggested something similar for you to do in the past but you just. 

You went light years beyond what he was expecting the outcome to be and he is here for it 

#1 supporter and immediately is coming up with different- sexier -outfits for you to wear

Will ask, beg if he has to, if you’d come have a photo shoot with him (surprisingly he mainly wants to take photos of just you) 

Admitting to anyone who listens that your beauty is absolutely on par with his 

On his way to your room right this instant- but only after he shares the video with the others 

Beel

Choked. 

You’d think he hadn’t ate in years with how much he was drooling but no

He was just looking at you in that outfit. Which he thought was amazing. 

You are easily the most delicious thing he’s ever laid eyes on (“Gorgeous too…”) and he can’t wait to tell you to your face 

Wonders if you’d have a tail or wings if you really did have a demon form 

Wants to ask Diavolo if there’s magic to make you a real, temporary demon form to find out

Please come to one of his Fangol games dressed like that. He’d promise to win for the rest of the season- and succeed

Overall flustered with his cute blush present, but unlike Satan or Levi, he doesn’t mind showing you 

Belphie

Two words : “holy. fuck.” or alternatively : “fuck. me.”

He is sprinting- yes, sprinting- throughout the fucking house and barreling straight through your door

On his knees faster than Asmo was and is ready at light speed to crawl at your feet and wrap his arms around your leg 

All of his usual curt expressions are thrown out the window without a care in the world

No pure thoughts behind those doe eyes. Not a single one. 

Convinces you to let him take a picture from underneath you while you’re choking him to put as his lock screen because he needed it

Will not be letting you go for the next 24 hours or longer

Fakes innocence like a pro when the others accuse him of hogging you to himself (“they are mine” he snips, even though you have the metaphorical leash right now)

Barbatos 

Mmmmmm, the silent simping is strong in this one

He was simultaneously so fucking ready and so very much not ready for that

Does not know what to do with himself for the next 2-7 business days

Had to put down shit he was cleaning multiple times before he broke something (because you actually broke him)

Straight up doesn’t even ask to show up in your room this time, he just does and immediately beelines to shove his face into your neck 

No, his ears are not red. I believe you might be color blind Mc…

Won’t outright admit how badly you affected him- he just lets out a small ‘you look lovely’ like yeah, Barb? Just lovely? 

Please wear this to the next formal event you attend to watch him lose his cool for split second intervals all night

Diavolo 

If he didn’t have millennia of training on composure, he’d been screaming as loud as Levi 

Instead he settles for slamming his hand on his desk like that meme Asmo showed him 

Concerning his butler a bit, but Diavolo is a proud simp- he ADMITS it

Please come sit on him. Let HIM sit on YOU, for all he cares

You look so good?? What the fuck?? Marry him?? (<<exact texts he sends you)

Tries to find ways to give you a real demon form before getting scolded

Volunteers whole heartedly to let Asmo take pictures of both of you while you’re dressed like that

Ring, ring, Lucifer, he’s coming over ASAP, don’t be alarmed when he shows up at the door

Bonus : 

Solomon

Fuck this man is so down bad for you

I mean, he knew that before but this is just something else, Mc, what have you done to him? 

Knows you’re still human but god does he crave having your pact mark seared into his body (it’s a guilty pleasure of his)

Maybe you’ll just create one and tattoo it on anyway

No second thoughts, teleports to your room immediately to yank you into a kiss

Door is locked- Solomon refuses to let the brothers snatch you away from him rn

Please get on top of him and show him how real your fake fangs and nails feel

Will actually beg without a fight

Simeon

Thinks he should not find this as attractive as he does but the heat flooding through his body disagrees

Gets so hot and flustered, it would be concerning if he wasn’t an actual angel 

Drinks a whole ass cup of water in less than 2 seconds 

Personification of ‘hold my mf halo’ as he makes his way to your place once he calms down a bit

Yes, he’ll take pictures with you with his wings on display and yes, he may or may not be into this (and if you start a little roleplay with him? He’s ascending.)

Don’t tease and make fun of him, he can’t help it! He’s not trying to blush- though he isn’t trying to hide it either

Lies through his teeth without hesitation when he gets questioned about the faint lines on his shoulders 

Heaven’s filthiest angel, on brand

[ghastlyfilters]

Pleeease write some headcanons of Art trying to cheer up a GN reader who's stressed over school/work/etc. 🥺🥺🥺 pretty please 🤧🤍🙂‍↕️

art with a s/o who’s struggling with work!!

pairings; implied art the clown x gn reader

warnings; mentions of violence (this is what ya get when your fictional crush is a murderer babe 😔) stress, and gotta add in fluff

gifs made by me!! :)

THE HEADCANONS:

• If there’s one thing about Art that everyone should know by now, is that he is INCREDIBLY curious. However, when it comes to anyone studying, this man is bored out of his little clown mind.

• He thrives off your happiness when you’re in a good mood, but when you’re stressed.. Art’s kinda at a loss..

• Despite Art absolutely living for other people’s misery, seeing you so stressed actually freaks him out in a sense. He’s a ticking time bomb. And his brain can’t handle shit when your brain also cannot handle shit 😭

• His horn’s practically his best buddy at this point, and if it cheers him up, it’ll maybe cheer you up? Right?

…. Right??

• Yeah, him honking his horn in your ear whilst you were trying to study your ass off did not seem to sit well with you. When you told him to stop, he gave you that sassy judgemental look, raising one drawn on brow. He knows the power he has over you. Art could’ve honked that fucking horn all day if he liked. It’s not as if you could stop him.

• But.. your boyfriend has respect for you.. sometimes. And he did in fact stop honking his horn whenever he noticed that you were studying.

• Art is awake literally ever single hour of the day. He doesn’t necessarily need to sleep, he more so sort of lounges around. But he can sleep if he really wants to. This makes him literally ideal for going out and getting you food if you’re up at three in the morning studying.

• He did it so much now that you didn’t even ask anymore. You’d be up in the early hours of the morning on your macbook, and Art was already out the door. He could care less if anyone saw him. Most people think he’s some asshole just dressing up as the Miles County clown.

And that’s the mistake the cashier at Subway made that night.

• Art is so SO prone to being insulted easily. So if someone does think he’s trying to dress up as himself, it pisses him off. BAD.

• You learnt this very quickly when he came home with two blood stained Subway bags. And when you went to open one.. dawg.. it wasn’t your food.. ☹️

• It had been the severed head of the cashier he killed. But at this point you weren’t even squeamish anymore. Art always walked around smelling like someone’s insides. But it just made it incredibly awkward when he stood in the doorway blinking at you, making that O shape with his mouth, realising your food was in the other bag..

• One night you’d fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from filling out all the files your professor had sent you. Art smiled down at you before waltzing past with his usual looney tune, cartoonish looking walk. He wanted to raid your snacks again from the kitchen. Art could be a fat shit when he wanted to be. Your laptop was on the dining table, wide open. He hadn’t noticed at first, before a notification sound filled the room in under a second. Art had snapped his head round and squinted, noticing your professor’s name pop up. The prick sent an email lecturing you regarding not enough work being sent back, despite the fact he was sending a shit ton of files. This caused Art to type a very lovely little email back. And when you awoke, he was gone.

… So was your professor apparently when the head of your college sent everyone emails that morning to note that he would not be returning.

• When Art came strolling back in, covered head to toe in that familiar red liquid, you immediately knew.

And this was your long awaited break.

• At last you weren’t having anymore documents sent to you for a while. Atleast until they found a replacement for your old professor. So finally you could relax, watching your lanky boyfriend on the couch across from you, grinning like the madman he is at the horror flick on the TV.

Maybe that clown could cheer you up with everything after all.

HII! this was so fun to write. i adore art so much and i’m desperate for more requests for him!! (also ik a 24hr subway isn’t that common, don’t come for me 😭)

[callmemaeverick]

Good cop, Bad Boy - A. Aretas

Summary: Being part of AMMO meant that you would be working with the best on the force. But when shit hits the fan, you find yourself enlisting help from an unlikely source. Well.. maybe not so unlikely

WC: 2.1k

TW: guns, blood, death, Senor Aretas

The water calms you down, it always has. Whenever life gets too fast or too hectic, you would find yourself gravitating towards bodies of water. It was why you love Miami so much.

Taking a drag from your dwindling cigarette, you kept your eyes out onto the sea, letting the soft sounds of the gentle waves calm down your nerves. So much had been going on in the last week.

News started spreading that your beloved late captain had ties to the cartel. And then, Marcus and Mike went MIA while transporting Mike’s son, Armando, who was actually in the cartel. And then that morning, another bomb got dropped on you when you knocked on Dorn’s door and someone else answered.

After a heated shouting match about how inappropriate it was that your colleagues are dating, you decided that you needed some space and stepped out. Leaving was not an option as there were heaps of Howard’s files to go through, so you told Dorn you needed some air and stepped onto his deck.

The truth was, you were slightly jealous. With Rita becoming Captain and Rafe transferring to another unit, and now, this new development, you were left essentially, alone. No partners to watch your six and with no partners, it would mean less active work.

And that pissed you off. That and the IA nightmare this could bring.

There was a shift in weight on the boathouse and before you know it, your gun was out of the holster and aimed. Your body tensed.

Brown eyes widened and the familiar face of Armando Aretas greeted you. “Calmate,” His voice was low.

“What the f-“

A split second later, Mike was in front of you. “Hey, it’s us.” He reached out and pushed the barrel of your gun down slowly. “It’s just us.”

“Oh my God!” You gasped as you re-holstered and lunged to hug the man. “We thought you guys were dead!”

“Takes more than that to bring us down,” Marcus chimed as he ducked to Dorn’s door and knocked violently. Mike, in turn, faced his son.

“Hang out here for a sec.”

The man nodded once and your attention went to him. All three of them looked haggard, covered in dirt. Their clothes looked stolen and you found yourself wondering where they had been the last three days.

Marcus and Mike barged into Dorn’s living room and you waited outside. They were in for a surprise and you do not wanna be there when they found out.

A horn sounded in the distance and you turned back to the sea, taking the last drag from your cig before dropping the butt on the deck and stepping on it with your boots.

You could feel eyes on you and when you looked up, your suspicions were confirmed. His eyebrows quirked when you caught him.

“What?”

He gave you a once-over then moved to the door.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” You warned him and he stopped for a second before he turned the knob and entered.

You scoffed and smirked, following him in.

The scene that greeted you when you entered behind Armando was very similar to what you had subjected him to early on as you stared down the barrel of Kelly’s gun. You leaned in to his back.

“Told you,” As you side stepped him, you caught his side-eye and grinned. Your day was looking up.

xxxx

When Mike said Howard had files, he had files. Pictures, videos, case reports, manifests. It was like trying to complete a very large jigsaw puzzle with no full picture in hand and all you had to help was Armando, the only person that could identify your target.

You held up a new picture him. “Anybody ring a bell?”

He glanced at it and rubbed at his eyes. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

The glare came full force. “Sí. I know these people, but none of them are who you are looking for.” He sighed.

His eyes were bloodshot and it was only then you realized he was still in the same raggedy shirt and jeans he came in with. And worse, he hadn’t had the chance to clean the cut on his forehead. “Shit, did Dorn not…”

He leveled you with a look that said, 'What do you think?'

“Well, that’s what you get when you flirt with someone’s girl,” You quipped. “Come on, follow me,” You didn’t wait to see if he was following, you just knew. And as you passed Dorn at his console, you smacked him lightly upside the head.

“Oww! What was that for?!

“You know what it’s for!” You sniped back as your best friend watched the two of you pass. “You were raised better than to disrespect guests,”

“He’s not a guest!”

“He’s Mike’s guest, therefore he’s a guest!”

His grumbling followed you to the second floor but you ignored it and went straight to Dorn’s guest bedroom. You’ve slept in there more times than you can count so you knew where everything is.

“Spare clothes are in there. Towels in the second drawer. Bathroom is through there.” You pointed and watched as he took stock of your instructions.

“Do you need the first aid?”

“What?”

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need the first aid kit?”

“Oh… nah. I’m good.”

“Okay,” As you turned to leave, he caught your wrist and you turned.

“Why are you helping me?”

“This is hardly considered help, Aretas,”

He stared.

“Well, aren’t you helping us?” You asked back. “Way I see it, you’re risking your neck to help clear someone’s name. Someone very important to your father. That earns you a pass in my book.”

“How do you know I’m not doing this for myself?”

“What could you possibly gain from this?” You scoffed. “It’s not gonna earn you a pardon. So I think you’re doing this because Mike asked you for help. Am I right?”

Armando did not answer so you just gave him a knowing smile and left him alone.

xxxx

The night air was cool and the sounds of waves lapping calming you down again. It was the reason why you liked hanging out at Dorn's so much. But with the new development; you might need to find another spot.

It was almost d-day and you all have had one hell of a night. You saw the attack on Marcus' place and was thankful his son-in-law was there to protect his wife and daughter. But Mike wasn't so lucky.

Witnessing his panic attack almost triggered your own. If the indomitable Mike Lowrey was scared; you should be too. You remembered when you yourself was in his shoes, the weight of the ring around your neck heavy.

Somebody leaned on the railing next to you and judging by bronze of his skin, you already knew who it was.

"Can't sleep?" You broke silence.

When no answers came, you turned to face Armando. You took him in slowly. After a shower; he had looked better, more alive than when they first arrived at the boathouse and you were glad for it. You wouldn't kid yourself and not admit that the man is very attractive. He's capable, intelligent, quiet. And there there was the way he assessed everything around him with those eyes of his.

You had no idea how anyone wouldn't just spontaneously combust at being under his gaze.

Speaking of his eyes, you saw his attention slide to you and his eyebrows rose, so you quickly diverted your own back to the sea. Your face grew warm.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"There is nothing to say,"

"Well, I don't do well in uncomfortable silences so.."

This time he fully turned to you making you mirror his actions. He took one step forward and instantly, your warning bells blared. Your eyes widened and you gulped.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" His voice dropped low but his eyes blazed as they stared into yours. Holy shit, you thought.

"I - uhh -…"

A rogue smirk painted his lips, pulling your attention. The smirk widened to a grin. Then as suddenly as he was close, he stepped back and gave you back your personal space. You blinked, dazed and confused as to what just happened.

Once you retrieved your bearings, you cleared your throat. Your face was now burning. "You're a dick, Aretas," You snapped and was blessed with the low timbre of his soft laugh.

xxxx

You came to with ringing in your ears and pain all over your body. The last thing you remembered were strong arms wrapping around your body and then you were airborne.

Mike gave you both a mission and that was Callie. But then there were too many of them. And then there was the plane.

You stood from behind the overturned table and looked around. There were bodies littered all over. But no Callie. And no Armando.

Then, the radio crackled in your earpiece. Judy.

“I’ve got eyes on Aretas. Moving in.”

Fuck.

“Who’s got eyes on Armando?” You called into the comms.

Rita’s voice came on. “Last I saw he was extracting Callie. West exit.”

You bolted without thinking, praying that you would get there in time. He was your partner, you need to have his six.

You arrived from behind, just as Mike arrived from the side and you skidded to a halt as Judy’s gun swivelled to you.

“Put the gun down!”

Immediately complying, you raised your hands up. But your eyes were on Armando.

Without warning, your heart thundered at the sight of him, leaning heavily againt the tree trunk. He was breathing hard, bleeding all over. It was not looking good.

“Mom. Mom, stop!” Callie yelled. “He saved my life!”

And for the first time, Judy seemed to see someone else other than her father’s killer. She saw her daughter. Alive and safe, with barely a scratch on her.

“Please, Mom.” The girl begged. “He saved my life.”

It felt like ages, but the moment Judy holstered her weapon, both you and Mike rushed to Armando’s side.

“Are you hit?” Mike asked his son, his eyes roaming Armando’s body, looking for holes. “Are you hit?”

You were on the ground, ripping a piece of fabric off of your tshirt and wrapping it around his thigh. When you pulled tight, he grunted and flinched. As you stood, Armando had raised his arm around his father’s shoulders and leaned against the taller man. He was dazed but at least he was upright

“You did good.” Mike assured. “You did good.”

The radio crackled again. This time, it came from Judy’s.

“Howard, do you copy?”

Everyone present froze as you waited for Judy’s response. Dread seeped into your bones as she looked at the three of you and then, her daughter.

But then, by some miracle, she released her radio and met Mike’s eyes.

“Go. Before I change my mind,”

Not to be told twice, the three of you made for the trees and beyond it, the river and the little boat you had arrived on with Armando.

You stepped from under his arm and stepped away to give father and son a moment alone but not before you caught his eyes.

He was your partner for at most, 15 hours, but he was a good partner to have. He had your back the whole time and not once did you doubt him. Without your permission, your brain had started to trust him fully and it intrigued you. He intrigued you.

And now he’s leaving. You didn’t know if you would ever see each other again.

So you gave him a nod and a small smile. When you heard the motor start, you made your trek back to the van. Mike’ll find his way back on his own.

xxxx

5 months later...

The sensor beeped as it detected your facial ID and allowed you entry into the elevator that would take you down to the basement of your HQ. You got the call just that morning.

A major player just got PID'd slipping through customs and the department believed something big is going down in Miami. And AMMO had been tasked to find out what and stop it.

As you approached the center of the room, you eyes caught the familiar figure leaning against the wall in a corner. You fought not to let your reaction show, but the way you slowed your steps was telling enough judging by the smile Marcus was failing to hide.

You stowed your gear and made your way down and beelined for that same corner, ignoring the eyes and smiles of your colleagues.

God, IA is going to have a field day.

"Alright, now that we're all here," Mike began and the screens behind him lit up.

You leaned againts the console and let your shoulder touch Armando's but your eyes were on your superior.

"Welcome back,"

[steddieasitgoes]

Detours & Second Chances

written for @steddie-week Day 5 prompt: Reunion / Getting Back Together Rating: T | wc: 3545 | no cw Another big thank you to @sidekickjoey and @thefreakandthehair for giving this a beta read for me! Read on ao3

Steve had high hopes for this road trip. 

Just him, the twins, and the wide open roads with the promise of the beach and Disneyland on the horizon. He knew better than to plan it down to the second, especially when traveling with Mabel and Ollie, but he did hope to keep to some kind of schedule. A few nights here, a couple of nights there, a handful of free time hours carved into nearly every day so the kids could pick which tacky roadside attraction they could visit and then gloat to Aunt Robin about seeing. 

What Steve hadn’t planned for was the Winnebago going up in smoke four and a half hours from Disneyland on I-15. 

The good news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada, and not thirty minutes later in the middle of the Nevada-California desert. The bad news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada on a Sunday afternoon when everyone was trying to leave. 

Steve expects the drivers around him to curse and flip him off. At the very least, he imagines them shaking their heads in disapproval as they slowly inch past the smoking Winnebago broken down in the middle of the three-lane highway. And there is some of that, honking horns and judgmental gazes, enough that he has to explain to Mabel and Ollie that showing someone your middle finger is not nice and no you shouldn’t do it to each other. But there’s also a handful of Sunday travelers who take pity on him. 

Two truck drivers manage to get their rigs off onto the shoulder and then mosey their way over to see if they can help Steve identify why the RV is smoking. A woman in a mini-van full of preteens in sports jerseys offers him an entire ice chest full of snacks for Mabel and Ollie. Some good Samaritan even makes the half-mile hike to the nearest pay phone to call for a tow truck so Steve doesn’t have to leave the kids or make the track himself with them following behind him. 

Forty-five minutes later, they all climb into a yellow taxi while Winnie the Winnebago gets towed away. For a moment, he thinks he’s ruined the entire vacation, but listening to Mabel and Ollie talk about how cool it was to watch the “toe man” do his job eases the guilt. 

Unfortunately, the repair shop is nowhere near as exciting as standing in the middle of I-15 — at least, that’s what Ollie tells Steve five minutes after they’ve walked into the garage. Steve tries his best to keep everyone’s spirits up in between filing out paperwork and bargaining with the mechanic over the price of the repairs. He lets the kid raid the vending machine and spread it all out on the worn plastic chairs in the makeshift lobby like some kind of five-star buffet. It’s mainly cookies and chips, a few candy bars, and a granola bar Mabel even generously spent $1.10 on for him. 

It’s not the worst meal they’ve had on the trip — that honor goes to the gas station in Kearney, Nebraska, and the hot dogs he knew were a bad idea — but it’s definitely the least nutritious. And, in hindsight, it’s not the best idea now that Mabel and Ollie are hyped up on sugar in a small space with no central air conditioning. He gets it. He’s almost at his wit’s end, too, and he has several decades of patience over them. 

He’s hot and tired and so frustrated, he’d break down and cry if he could, but he doesn’t want to upset the kids or ruin the day more than it’s already been ruined. Instead, he puts on his brave Dad Face™, leaves his pager number with the mechanic’s receptionist, and takes the kids to explore Las Vegas. 

The city wasn’t on their list. It’s not kid-friendly, and the July heat is anything but welcoming, but thankfully, they luck out and stumble across a hybrid game and music store a few blocks away from the repair shop.

The bell above their door announces their entrance to the quiet storefront as the sweet, sweet relief of the AC hits them. Steve closes his eyes, soaking in the cool air for a moment before Mabel and Ollie are tugging on his hands, trying to drag him in different directions. 

Steve knows he should put an end to their bickering that borders on full-on sibling bullying, especially judging by the way they’ve dropped his hand in favor of pinching each other’s arms, but he gets distracted when a figure emerges from the back of the shop. 

The footsteps are uneven, which makes sense when an ornate cane enters Steve’s line of sight. He studies it, taking in the impressive woodwork and paint job — Max’s own can is pretty spectacular, but this one is a close second. Soon, his eyes drift from the cane to the hand holding it, a ring on each finger. Silver and gaudy and eerily similar to—

“Holy shit,” the voice says. “Are my eyes giving out on me too, or is Steve Harrington really standing in my shop right now?” 

Steve’s eyes shoot up to meet the man’s face — to meet Eddie’s face. It’s been years, shit, almost a decade he thinks, but Eddie looks the same. Older, sure. A few wrinkles around his eyes and a softer belly. But he’s still him. Unruly curls barely contained in a bun at the base of his neck, mischievous eyes, and a smile that makes Steve’s stomach flip in a way it hasn’t done in too long. Yup, definitely him.

“Eddie?”

Eddie laughs, throwing his head back with the same carelessness as he had at twenty years old. Only this time, when he rights himself, he has to reach a hand up to his neck to massage the ache. “Man, this is some cosmic, universe shit!” 

“At least it’s the good kind this time,” Steve jokes. 

Eddie goes for a full-on hug, Steve an awkward side one, and as a result, they end up with their bodies smushed against each other, arms pinned between each other in the world’s worst hug of all time. But it’s also the greatest, as far as Steve’s concerned. 

When they separate, Eddie gives Steve a quick once-over before shaking his head again. “So, what brings you all the way to Sin City?” 

“A family road trip.” 

“Ah, so the six nuggets and a Winnebago dream came true, then?” Eddie muses. 

“More like two nuggets, a piece of shit rental that’s in a repair shop after crapping out on me on I-15, and a co-pilot that doubles as my son’s emotional support stuffed animal,” Steve says, then smiles. “But I can’t complain.” 

“Wheeler never jumped on the Harrington Express?” 

Steve’s interrupted by Ollie running at him with a vinyl record thrust above his head. Mabel appears a moment later, holding a giant box in her arms that’s clearly too heavy for her. She passes it to Steve, who hands it over to Eddie, who has taken refuge behind the glass counter. As soon as the kids appear, they’re gone again. Steve shouts after them to stay together and not to touch anything. It goes in one ear and out the other if the loud crash that follows a moment later is anything to go off of. Steve winces and looks at Eddie apologetically. 

“I promise I’ll pay for whatever they break. They’re a little stir-crazy from being stuck at the repair shop all day.” 

Eddie doesn’t look worried about it in the slightest. In fact, Steve’s willing to bet he didn’t even hear the crash, judging by the fond look on his face. It’s a soft smile, almost bittersweet if he had to put a name to it. It looks out of place on his face — almost too earnest, which makes no sense because Eddie is the most earnest guy Steve’s ever known. 

“Eddie?” 

“Huh, what?” Eddie blinks himself back to the present. When he shakes his head, the elastic holding his hair back snaps, sending his curls cascading down to his shoulders. It’s easy now to see the hints of gray peppered into the locks that used to keep Steve up at night — occasionally still keeps him up. 

Steve gestures toward the row where Mabel and Ollie are frantically trying to restack things on the shelves. This time, Eddie snorts and meets Steve's gaze with that familiar crooked smile. 

“Don’t worry about them. S’just boxes and shit.” 

Steve nods and then grabs a pen out of the cup on the glass counter. He twirls it between his fingers, something about the rhythmic motion calming the silly nerves running wild in his body right now. 

It’s just Eddie. 

“Nance would kill you for even thinking she’s a part of this circus,” Steve says, then panics. “To answer your question from before. No misses at all actually. Or misters either,” Steve says before he chickens out. 

Eddie left before he realized that little fun fact about himself. It was ironic (and tragic), considering he’s the reason Steve even realized it to begin with. Chalk it up to cosmic, universe shit — the bad kind that time. 

“Cause that could be an option to, you know. Obviously you know, but it’s an option for me too in case you didn’t know and—“

“Woah, breathe, Steve.” 

Steve takes a slow, deep inhale. His exhale is strong enough to send a few of Eddie’s stray curls fluttering before settling back amongst the rest. “Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing!” Eddie throws his hand across the counter, squeezing Steve’s wrist, 

It’s silly, but something about the simple touch relaxes the nervous energy that’s taken over him ever since Eddie emerged from the back. A part of Steve wants to blame the relief on the touch, but he knows better. Knows it has everything to do with finally telling Eddie about this part of him he helped him discover. 

Steve’s been out to just about everyone he cares about, and now he’s certain he’s told them all. 

“So no misses or misters,” Eddie says, before hiding his growing smile behind a curl. “What about Buckley? Is she on the great American family road trip with you?” 

“Robin refuses to get into Winnebagos after, well, you know.” 

“Can’t say I blame her for that one.” 

“It’s just me and the kids. Mabel and Ollie. They’re my kids…I mean, well, obviously, they’re mine, and anyone who says they’re not are fucking idiots, but they’re not blood mine or whatever people say.” Christ, he’s rambling again. “I adopted them. Actually, I was supposed to be their temporary foster parent. I was in my second year as a social worker, and they were two and six months old when they came in the middle of a Saturday night and we had no one on standby. They came home with me, and then they just never left.” 

Somewhere in his rambling, Eddie made himself comfortable, pillowing his chin on his hands, elbows sinking into the giant mouse pad that’s stretched out on top of the glass counter. He’s dropped the curl, his bright smile on full display, dimple, and everything when he looks at Steve now. 

“I love a good foster fail story,” he cooed. “I have a few myself. Fosters that turned into full-on adoptions. I mean not human kids, cats. And a few dogs. Even a bird. But they’re my kids, you know. I mean, not that what you did is the same thing as me or anything, but I… I’m just going to stop talking now.”

This time, it’s Steve's hand that breaks the barrier between them, reaching out to pat Eddie on the shoulder. A reassuring thing that he hopes conveys that he’s not offended. Just in case, he spells it out for him verbally too. 

“I get it. Kids mean a lot of things to different people. If you say they’re your kids, they’re your kids,” he says, smiling. “Robin has a plant, Ferguson. When she first got it she carried it around in Ollie’s baby bjorn because she needed to ‘bond’ with it.” 

Eddie laughs, this time hard enough that the case between them vibrates. “Lesbians, and their plants, man.” 

“She rescued it from her ex, who was drowning it.” 

“We’re just all patron saints of lost things, aren’t we?” 

“Guess so.” Steve smiles, then adjusts his own stance so he’s leaning against the counter. Something pops in his back, and for once, he doesn’t make an excuse. Eddie knows all about their aches and pains — the way their bodies are thirty years older than they should be, thanks to their teenage years. He runs a steady hand through his hair, hoping beyond hope that it’s not as greasy as it feels and then turns his attention to Eddie. “What about you? Game and record store sounds like a pretty sweet deal.” 

Eddie blows out air in a whoosh and reaches for another curl. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. Closest I could get to being a rockstar, I guess.” 

“Do you still play?” 

“Occasionally. There’s a dive bar a few streets over that I perform sometimes. No band, though. At least, not yet. I’m giving myself a few more years; let the gray really come in,” Eddie says, fluffing his curls. “And then I’ll join one of those mid-life crisis dad bands.” 

“Solid plan.” He fiddles with the pen again, contemplating if he should ask what he wants, too. Screw it. Who knows when he’s going to see Eddie again — if it’ll ever happen again. It’s best not to leave anything on the table. “What about a partner?” 

“Me?” Eddie asks, pointing to himself before laughing. “Nope. No partner. No lovers either, really. It’s just me and the petting zoo. And Wayne, when the old man makes the trip out to visit me.” 

Eddie being alone all these years shouldn’t make Steve happy. He should want him to be settled by now, grossly in love with someone who makes him feel special like he deserves. But Steve’s heart is a traitor, and his brain is no better, already imagining ten different ways he could change that. 

Had he known Eddie’s been in Vegas alone all this time, he would have visited a lot sooner. Hell, he would have made this their final destination — he’s sure he could find something family-friendly here for Mabel and Ollie. There’s a lake around here or some shit, right? They could have—

“Shit,” Steve says, reaching for his beeping pager. The repair shop number appears on the small screen. “Could I borrow your phone? This is the repair shop.” 

“I suppose I could make an exception on my no-customers rule,” Eddie teases. “Phones in my office, straight back there.” 

Steve nods and rounds the counter towards the backroom but stops short. The kids. He almost forgot about the kids. “Do you mind keeping an eye on them?” Steve asks, tilting his head to Mabel and Ollie who have finally picked up the mess they created. 

“Of course! Don’t worry about them. I’m great with kids.” 

“I remember.” 

___

Eddie’s office isn’t unlike his teenage bedroom Steve spent many nights in. It has his typical brand of messiness but with an added layer of professionalism. Like, there’s an honest-to-God filing cabinet in the corner, but next to it is a three-foot-tall Yoda statue.  Papers lay haphazardly on the desk beside a calculator. 

There are posters all over the walls — some Steve recognizes, some he doesn’t — and endless photographs in mismatched frames. At least three wallet-sized frames with pictures of his pets — kids — sit on the desk. There’s one of Wayne and Eddie on his graduation day on the bookshelfnbeside photos of him with Dustin and some of the other kids over the years. 

He even spots himself amongst the familiar faces — a polaroid they took one summer in Hawkins. It feels like a lifetime ago, but a part of Steve remembers what it was like to have Eddie’s arm slung around him like that with the sun beating down their faces, causing them to squint in the photo because Jonathan refused to shoot directly into the sunlight. 

Steve gives himself another second to soak in Eddie’s office, searching for any other details he can find to fill in the years he’s missed — a pride flag draped over a chair, his business license framed on the wall, packs of half-used nicotine gum instead of cartons of cigarettes. Finally, he makes it to the phone and punches in the number of the repair shop. 

___

When Steve resurfaced twenty minutes later, the neon “open” sign that flickered in the window had been shut off. Eddie’s abandoned his post behind the counter, taking up space at a table in the game section of the store. Mabel and Ollie are sitting on either side of him, listening intently with wide eyes as he moves two figures across a board toward a hoard of waiting miniature figures. 

“I leave you for twenty minutes, and you’re already corrupting them with your nerd games?” Steve teases, ruffling both Mabel and Ollie’s hair in the process. 

Eddie scoffs. “You expect me to believe Dustin hasn’t put them through D&D boot camp yet? Please.” 

“Your stories are nothing like Dustin’s,” Ollie says, voice full of awe. 

“Yeah, he always wants to skip the fun adventure stuff and get straight to the battles,” Mabel chimes in. “That's why we like it when Daddy gets to be in charge.” 

Eddie’s head swivels so fast that the irrational part of Steve’s brain fears it’s going to fly right off. “You DM for them?” 

 “I wouldn’t call it Dungeon Master-ing,” Steve says, grabbing the back of his neck. The room feels ten times hotter all of a sudden. The AC must have shut off, he reasons. There’s no other explanation for his sudden flush. Not at all. “I really just make sh— stuff up.” 

“He’s the best make-believer! You should play with us sometime. Like tonight!” 

“Mabel, Eddie’s busy running this store; he can’t just stop to play with you. And besides, we have to get going soon.” 

“They fixed Winnie?” Ollie asks, jumping up from his seat. 

Steve sighs. “Not yet. That’s why we have to leave. I need to find somewhere for us to sleep tonight that’s—

“—I have a guest room.”

Steve blinks. Is Eddie offering his place to them? His hearing may be spotty lately, but he’s never imagined entire phrases before. Which means—

“I mean if you want,” Eddie says sheepishly this time. “I have a hoard of kittens running around right now, so if you’re allergic, it might not be the best place but—“

“Kittens!” Mabel squeals before rapidly asking Eddie a hundred questions about them, but he doesn’t stand a chance of answering. 

“Can’t we stay at his house, Daddy?” 

“I really do have a spare bedroom and bathroom. Plus, a couch and a semi-stocked fridge. And I wouldn’t charge you. The hotels around here are going to sense your need and charge you an arm and a leg, trust me.”

Steve would be stupid to turn it down. A free stay in an actual house. A meal he can cook with his own two hands that don’t involve a shitty stove that gives out after a few minutes. Not to mention, a shower with actual hot water. 

Plus, it comes with the added bonus of a few more hours with Eddie. Yeah, there’s not a chance in hell he’s turning that down. Not again. 

“Alright, yeah. Let’s do it.” Mabel and Ollie shout in excitement, spinning around the table. Eddie might not have the same energy level as them to join them, but his smile says it all. 

“It’ll be just like old times.” 

“Wait! You guys know each other?”

Steve laughs first, but soon Eddie’s cackle joins him and it really does feel like old times again. “Of course, I know him. What? You think I would let us stay in a stranger’s house? Don’t you know me at all?” 

___

Three days later, Steve finds himself behind the wheel of Winnie the Winnebago as she makes her grand return to I-15. When he glances over his shoulder as the traffic crawls for miles in front of him, he spots Mabel and Ollie throwing Fruit Loops at each other to see who can catch the most in their mouth. And when he looks to his right, Eddie’s there — feet up on the dash, hands protectively clutching Ollie’s teddy bear as if he’s hoping it offers him the same comfort it does for the six-year-old — handsome as ever.

“Didn’t think I’d ever be back in one of these,” he says fondly. “Especially not with you behind the wheel.” 

“Really?” Steve lets the corners of his lips twitch upward. Doesn’t try to fight the blush he knows is creeping across his cheeks. “‘Cause this is all I’ve thought about for years.” 

[zedif-y]

please imagine zedaph cuddling his boyfriend in every single bed contraption hes ever made. yes including the one that kills you 10 times thats just what you get when your boyfriend is zedaph

The crazy thing is, he feels safe around Zedaph.

Tango narrows his eyes. Sometimes, at least, if not all the time.

(He can almost hear Zed's voice.)

(Sometimes?! Zedaph would reply, aghast. I'll have you know that I am the pinnacle of safety! The safest in the land!)

(Tango snorts. Yeah, right.)

He pets idly at Zed's hair, the blonde curls soft as he begins to card through them. They part easily, which would be surprising, Tango thinks, if he hadn't known the guy for years— Zed may not give a rat's ass about maintaining his hair, but he hates when it tangles.

Zedaph snores, soft and muffled into Tango's chest. His arm is thrown around Tango's middle, their legs tangled up underneath the sheets. Zed's clinging to him like a koala.

Tango hums, staring up at the smooth stone ceiling. It's nice here, you know, if you ignore the—

His eyes drift to the walls.

—The everything else.

Cold, stoic faces of the observers Zed has placed around his bed stare them down, easily mistaken for guardians if Tango didn't know exactly what they were for.

Tango shivers, drawing his eyes away. Talk about creepy.

At this point, he's only like 40% worried about the 'waking up to die 10 times' thing. Which. Might say some things about his survival instincts, but hey.

Zedaph mutters something incoherent under his breath. Tango's thoughts falter as Zed shifts a little, burying his face into Tango's neck. Tango's tail sways languidly off the side of the bed.

It's insane, really, how Zed makes him feel like this.

Makes him feel like things will be okay, even when he's staring death right in the face. Like things will work out, and when they don't, it's not the end of the world.

(Tango shivers, feeling the phantom cold of- of space. Loneliness and isolation and the cool, sarcastic voice of Holsten—)

...It's not the end of the world.

Tango lets out a breath.

He doesn't really know how to explain the feeling, but the peaceful quiet of the night makes him want to try. Makes him want to put to words what he feels when Zedaph smiles at him, in that bright, distinct curve that makes his cupid's bow stretch and Tango's heart stutter in his chest.

Makes him want to explain why he feels fine, feels safe even when he's just a button press away from death at any moment in Zed's base, as long as Zedaph is there at his side.

Makes him feel like sunlight.

Tango makes a face.

When did he get so poetic?

(He looks down at Zed's sleeping face, and thinks he might have an idea.)

Overcome with... A fluttering something, Tango presses a kiss between Zed's horns—they're short, filed down into dull points for exactly this sleeping arrangement— and smiles a little when he feels Zed's fluffy ears twitch in his sleep.

Dammit all, Tango thinks to himself, scowling. Why's he so cute?

Tango thinks Zed would have words to say about that. He presses another kiss on his head for good measure.

His eyelids start to feel heavy. Tango lets out a breath, closes his eyes.

He focuses on the warm line of Zedaph beside him, the soft snoring, the gentle breathing. The world seems to shrink— just the two of them, huddled together on this bed.

What's a little death, really, in the face of this?

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (Professer Logan Howlett/Fem Student Mutant Reader)

Chapter Summary: Logan's behavior continues to intrigue you as you begin to struggle to hide your feelings towards him.

A/N: I've never churned out a chapter so fast before. i'm having a lot of fun writing this!

Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors DNI!!, unprotected p in v, dirty talking, logan talks you through it lowk, grinding, swearing, no use of Y/N, pet names for reader tho🤭

Word Count: 4,040

Chapter 2

The door to the classroom creaks open loudly causing you to turn your head abruptly from your notebook, finding Logan staring at you incredulously. Adamant to not repeat the same mistake as you did Monday, you arrived at class 15 minutes early this morning. You smile awkwardly and look back to your notes, trying not to pay him any mind, despite that familiar swirl deep in your stomach telling you to jump him right then and there.

“Early bird today huh, bub?” Logan chides, his sudden display of humor surprising you. You chuckle, unsure of how to respond.

“Yeah, getting used to that commute, Monday I was too late, today I’m too early, what can ‘ya do?” you reply, laughing lightly, not to Logan’s amusement, however, who glares at you like a horn protruded from your skull as he settles himself at the head of the classroom. You clear your throat and go back to your notes. So, he’s funny, but he doesn’t like small talk, got it. You think to yourself, becoming even more confused by his demeanor. You couldn’t find anything about him online last night, not a social media post, no articles, no information about his credentials besides a flimsy description on the school’s website that describes him as having a “masters degree in the history of american wars,” whatever that means. It doesn’t say where his degree is from either. Everything about this man is clouded in obscurity.

You jump slightly when Logan slams a piece of paper in front of you. Glancing upwards, attempting to meet his gaze, you’re confused to see he’s already turned away from you and walking to the front of the room. You look down at the paper to see it’s the attendance sheet, your name already has a check mark next to it. Before you can even mutter a thanks, people have already started to file into class and you swallow any more potential verbiage that may escape your mouth, not wanting anyone to perceive you.

…

“Professor Howlett, I’m not quite sure I understand,” a brunette in the front row pouts, “Could I see you after class?” she asks suggestively, flicking her hair and resting her pencil between her lips. Her attempt to subtly gain Logan’s attention almost makes you laugh.

“It’s Logan. And no,” he snaps, not breaking his focus from the dates he’s writing on the board. The girl scoffs in surprise and sits back in her chair in defeat, looking at her friends on her right and left like she couldn’t believe he would rebuff her like that. It’s not lost on you now that Logan is very attractive, at least, you’re not the only person who finds him attractive; maybe not the only person who has had a lewd wet dream about him either. Why that girl would attempt to be so bold is beyond you, seeing as Logan is so goddamn terrifying. Just one look from him makes you want to crawl into a shell and never come out again.

“Friday’s essay—I want you to write about independence,” Logan asserts, leaning against the whiteboard and nonchalantly crossing his arms. The room is quiet, some people even looking around for clarification, yourself included. The brunette in the front row raises her hand causing Logan to roll his eyes and nod in her direction, affirming her request.

“I’m sorry, like, do you mean what independence means? Or how it played a part in the revolutionary war? Or, like, what it means to maybe fight for it in the modern era?” she asks carefully, not wanting him to snap at her again. Logan considers her for a moment.

“Yeah, sure,” he concedes with a shrug of his shoulders. There’s still an air of confusion hanging in the room. You’re struggling to understand how this man made it past a vetting process to secure his position in the first place. Logan looks at his watch, sighing in relief. “That’s all I’ve got. See ‘ya Monday.”

Logan wastes no time in collecting his coat and briefcase and rushing out of the classroom. Everyone pauses, sharing glances of bewilderment. You avoid eye contact with others, opting to just quietly collect your things and depart with the one or two stragglers who’ve made the same choice you did.

…

It’s painfully slow at the store. You had hoped there was inventory that needed to be stocked, or a shipment, or cleaning, a robbery even. But there’s no action here. The only customers being two teenagers who bought candy and soda after school, an old man and a case of beer, and an old lady with a pack of smokes. That’s it. That’s all you’ve seen for the past 5 hours. The free time at least allows you to work on Logan’s essay for Friday. The vague topic gave you quite a bit of room to work, it’s a good thing you have a lot to say or else you would’ve had a much harder time working on this. The store’s door opens with a jingle, the bells hanging by the hinge shaking, the sound draws your attention.

You’re surprised to see Logan entering, broad shoulders tucked into a brown leather jacket. He scans the store and eventually makes eye contact with you. Your breath hitches when you notice the chest hair peaking out from beneath his wife beater, the tank top revealing slightly more of his chiseled physique than you’re used to seeing. You involuntarily clench at the thought of what he might look like without that tank top on…No. You shake the thought from your head, trying to keep your composure despite your growing arousal towards your professor; an arousal that only started from that damned wet dream.

Boots click against the linoleum tile towards the register you’re situated behind. Logan slams a case of Budweiser onto the counter as he rifles through his wallet for cash. You quietly ring him up.

“Get me two Arturos,” he instructs, rather impolitely. You look at him, he doesn’t even attempt to make eye contact. You decide to make a little joke, seeing as he was feeling so humorous this morning.

“What’s the magic word?” you coo, teasingly, through a friendly smile. Logan finally looks up at you through slightly raised brows.

“Go fuck yourself.” Logan was not in a teasing mood.

You purse your lips in embarrassment and defeat as you retrieve two Arturo cigars from behind you. With a sigh, you ring him up and tell him his total. He pays in cash. As you’re loading the bills into the register, Logan hesitates before leaving.

“What’re you doing working this far out of town? Aren’t there better stores to work at closer to campus?” he questions. You try to hide your surprise at his inquiry before answering.

“Oh, uh, I don’t live too far from here. It’s an easier commute when I’m not taking classes,” you answered, trying to be as matter of fact as you can possibly be. Logan chuckles.

“No offense, but how can you afford a place over here? Who the hell died and left you their place?” he asks, resting a hand on his hip. You swallow hard, not wanting to draw too much attention to the peculiarity of your living arrangement. Houses over here are expensive, there’s only farmland on acreage that can be worth millions. But sometimes a plot of land can be cheaper than a whole house, and a whole house is something that you can manage to manifest with your powers by consuming around 25,000 calories a day. You offer Logan the same answer you’ve prepared for anyone else who might question you this way.

“I used to rent here until my landlord passed away and left me the property. I’m just lucky, I guess,” you explained with a shrug of your shoulders, trying to hide your nerves. You tug at the hem of your polo, hoping that’s the last of his line of questioning. Logan just offers a simple nod of understanding, before turning around and heading towards the door.

“What about you?” you blurt out, shocking yourself with your own abruptness and sudden want to continue the conversation. Logan turns on his heel and stares at you in confusion.

“Whaddya mean?” he asks, narrowing his hazel eyes.

“I mean, it’s just such a hike from campus, I was just—I mean it’s a fair question. You asked me, I ask you, you know?” you explained clumsily, hoping he at least understood a quarter of what you were trying to say. He looks down at the floor and chuckles with a shake of his head.

“I do live around here, if that’s what you’re asking.” He turns on his heel and starts towards the door. “See ‘ya Friday.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, and you try not to watch his ass, framed by those tight, worn jeans, as he exits the store. Unsure if the feeling in your chest is caused by anxiety, or how you secretly want to bang your professor, you clear your throat in an attempt to bring your mind back down to planet earth.

Despite your own constant correction and policing of your mind, you can’t help but drift away; reminiscing in the way Dream Logan devoured your pussy like no one else ever has. The way he roughly grabbed and pawed at you, pleasuring you in a desperate, animalistic way. Why your subconscious brewed up this intoxicating cocktail, is beyond you. You’ve never been with someone who’s fucked you the way Logan did in your dream, nor have you ever watched any porn that portrays a man acting that way towards someone. No matter what you tell yourself, it felt so inexplicably real. You’re starting to believe that the way Logan acted in your subconscious was strangely true to how he really does act in real life. But no matter, you have an essay to write, for a class you cannot figure out whether or not it's happening on Friday due to Logan’s own vagueness and potential misspeaking.

By the time you finally get home from work, you have maybe a page and a half written of your essay. In an attempt to be as prepared as possible, you decide to finish your work tonight so you can proofread and edit throughout the day tomorrow. But you’re struggling to keep your eyes open at your desk. It’s 1:30 in the morning, and you have a class at 9 am, but you don’t want to pull an all-nighter tomorrow just to work on this stupid essay. It’s getting increasingly more and more difficult to focus. Your bed, just a few feet behind you, beckons to you. It’s so, so tempting. Maybe resting my eyes for just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt, you think to yourself, wanting to give in to your exhaustion so desperately. You lay your head back against your chair and close your eyes. Oh, this feels so good.

So, so good.

Your eyes, half slit, peek open to see a broad chest; you're barely awake as an arm hooks under your legs and behind your back and cradles you before lifting you up against the strong, firm chest. You hum gently, turning into the man’s touch and getting comfortable. You feel yourself being lowered down onto your bed and tucked in under your comforter gently before the bed dips behind you as you’re joined in comfort by the man that tucked you in so tenderly. His arms wrap around you and he pulls your back flush against his chest, meeting the curve of his pelvis with the protrusion of your ass. He’s so warm and firm against your back, cocooning you in an embrace so gentle that it almost makes you want to wake up and fuck him.

You sigh in contentment, circling your ass ever so gently against his crotch, hoping to feel a firm indication of arousal through the boxers of the man behind you. A rough groan emanates from behind you as the pair of arms draped around your waist tighten slightly. His breath is hot against your neck, his scratchy beard tickling you.

His hands move up your stomach and to your chest where he palms your breasts languidly. The grip on your tits causes you to arch your back into his crotch, finally feeling the stiff outline of his cock against your ass. You smile and hum as he trails kisses up and down your neck, biting the flesh there gently.

“Not so tired now, huh, baby?” Logan’s voice rasps from behind you, causing you to gasp quietly. He’s here.

“You’re hard to resist,” you purr, an inexplicable truth bleeding through your words. You turn your torso, facing him, “I missed you.”

Your fingers raise to run over the patch of stubble on his chin that’s nestled between his mutton chops. His eyes look hungry, desperate. His hands, still fixed on your breasts, now lazily stroke them through your shirt.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, his mouth turned upward into a cocky grin. You nod in response. He places a gentle kiss to your lips, chastely.

“You know, I missed you too,” he whispers against your lips. He kisses you again.

“Yeah?” you ask flirtatiously, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip as he continues to kiss you repeatedly, gingerly making contact each time.

“Why don’t you show me how badly you missed me big guy?” you challenge against Logan's lips, your voice dripping in a seductive tone. He smiles against your lips before shoving you roughly onto your back, situating himself between your legs. One hand moves to your waist, the other pressed against the wall above your head to support his weight.

“I’ll do just that, princess,” his gravelly voice beckons to you from above, his breath fanning your face. A flirtatious smile spreads across your face, causing Logan to waste no time in capturing your lips with his. Unlike last time when you were pinned on his couch, this kiss is sensual and tender. His tongue dances with yours carefully, creating a specific pace with the move of his lips. You follow suit, matching his rhythm, allowing your hands to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. His hips grind down into yours, the two of you moaning into the kiss at the sudden friction. Logan’s hand moves down your waist and under your shirt, traveling up to your bare breast. His thumb circles your nipple softly as his hands knead your tender flesh. You arch your back into his touch, humming in contentment against the kiss.

You could be here for hours, Logan palming at your breasts, his stiff cock grinding against your pussy, the rhythmic swipe of his tongue between each expert kiss to your lips. You’re putty under him. Needing to feel more of him, you snake your hands down his back, and slip them under the hem of his wife beater. You hike the hem up his torso, incapable of moving it much further. Logan breaks the kiss and sits up before he pulls the tank the rest of the way off his body and over his head, revealing his bare torso to you. He’s unbelievably toned, chiseled like he was made by the gods. The veins in his chest and arms bulge with each breath he takes. You bite your bottom lip as you take him in, your fingers creeping up his abs, eventually sliding up his chest to stroke it tenderly. You prop yourself up on your elbows, looking at Logan seductively.

“Come here, baby,” Logan growls, snaking an arm around your waist before hoisting you up onto him. Your legs wrap around his waist as he spins the two of you around so his back is against the headboard and you’re straddling him. You can feel the full length of him at this angle as he’s aligned deliciously with your pussy, applying the most intoxicating pressure to your clit. Logan stares at you hungrily, pressing your chest into his, his hands firmly gripping your waist. You both moan as he grinds up into your pussy with his hand occasionally dipping down to squeeze your tight ass. You mewl at the feel of his hand there.

“Need more of you, princess,” he growls, taking no more than a second to grip the hem of your shirt and rip it up off of your head, you gasp with no time to react when he reaches down to the waistband of your shorts and tears them in half with ease. Both your shirt and ruined shorts tossed carelessly onto the floor.

“Logan!” you exclaim, trying your best to hide your amusement from him.

“Much better,” he drawls. He attacks your neck where he aggressively trails kisses and bites up and down the flesh, occasionally sucking and leaving purple marks in his wake. You throw your head back in ecstasy as you grind your naked cunt onto his cock, wetting the fabric of his boxers with your slick. His head dips down to your breasts, sucking purple bruises into your skin and leaving as many marks as he can before bringing a sensitive bud between his lips and sucking there as well. You moan throatily, gripping the back of his head and forcing his head further onto your breasts as he sucks, licks, and bites with animalistic need. You circle your free nipple with your fingers as he continues his onslaught, alternating with him when he switches attention between each breast. The feel of Logan’s clothed, firm cock against your clit as you grind against him is not enough. You need more of him.

“Logan,” you whine. “I need you. Inside me.” Your hand travels down to the waistband of his boxers, slipping them down as far as you can in desperation.

Logan responds by lifting you slightly off of him, allowing you to pull his boxers further down. You watch as his cock reveals itself, pressed firmly against his stomach. Your breath hitches at the sight. The girth shocks you, curious how it’d feel splitting you into two. You’re sure his length would take up entirety of your pussy once inside, most definitely pressing into your cervix no matter the position. A gasp leaves your lips as your hand wraps around his length, surprised at the difficulty in which your fingers have encasing the entirety of him. Logan hisses against your breast at the sudden touch, the grip on your waist growing tighter. He leaves one last lick on your breast before capturing your mouth in a feverish kiss. He attacks your mouth aggressively, his occasional bites almost making your lips bleed, his tongue thrusting into your mouth without a care. The onslaught of your mouth is so intoxicating, you almost don’t notice him lifting you up to position himself at your entrance. The tip of his cock prods your pussy and you whine into the kiss, driving your hips down as much as you can.

“We’re gonna take it nice and slow, baby,” Logan rasps against your lips encouragingly. Logan grips your jaw so you’ll look into his eyes, “You’re gonna take it all for me, won’t you?”

You nod eagerly as you squirm on top of him, so desperate for him to fill you up. He slides himself in about an inch further, causing your moan to turn to a wince at the delicious stretch he applies to your pussy.

“That’s it, princess,” Logan praises with a gravelly drawl that makes you melt. He groans as he spears into you a few more inches, your moans fanning his face.

“Good girl,” Logan encourages, making you fawn, “Just take a bit more for me, princess.”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as he splits you open. He's bottomed out inside of you and already grazing your cervix. Your pussy’s stretched to its maximum around his girth. You can tell Logan is holding back, he’s tense beneath you, gripping you with such fervor that you’re sure he’ll leave marks.

“Logan,” you pant, “fuck me.”

He grunts as you raise your hips, allowing him the space to thrust up into you. The force of his thrust makes you groan in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“That’s a good girl, take it,” he coaxes, thrusting slowly into you, acclimating you to his length. Slowly, the winces become replaced with needy, lewd moans. Giving Logan permission to hammer into you harder and harder with the progression of groans and moans that escape your throat.

His cock is so deep inside of you that it applies the most delicious pressure to your cervix, pinching it each time he bottoms out. The feeling is so full, so stretched, each ridge he passes making you moan in ecstasy.

“So tight…so, so tight for me, baby,” Logan growls, his face so close to yours that his beard scratches your face with each of his thrusts. “M’gonna pound this fuckin’ pussy.”

The feel of his breath against your neck makes you whimper. His mouth latching onto you and biting down possessively making you yelp in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Logan hoists you up off of his pelvis, supporting the entirety of your weight in his arms. To keep your balance, you grip his shoulders tightly gasping when Logan begins to hammer into you with such strength and speed you almost sob.

“Yes,” he drawls, his voice raspy and breathing ragged, “good girl, you take it so well for me.”

Your moans become unrecognizable to you as a pleasure unlike any other you’ve experienced ravages all your senses; Logan’s mouth on your neck, his cock surely bruising your cervix, his finger suddenly drifting down to your clit to rub circles into the sensitive bud. The pitch in your voice rises with each flick of your sensitive nub. If you were with any other person, surely you’d feel self conscious about the way you’re screaming—almost sobbing as you’re being fucked up into. But Logan draws this kind of unabashed pleasure from you that makes you forget where you are in the world and allows you to just focus on how fucking good he feels inside of you. How he can sustain this kind of power, force, and strength as he fucks into you, is beyond you, especially while supporting your weight with only one arm. Your cries of pleasure grow further and further together as the familiar swirl of heat and pleasure rises in your stomach.

“Keep going, Logan, keep going…don’t stop,” you plead as you desperately seek your release.

“You gonna come for me?” Logan grunts into your ear, sending shivers down your spine and making a whimper escape your lips.

“Yes, Logan,” you mewl, now cheek to cheek with him, his beard almost vibrating against you as he sustains the speed of his thrusts.

“You take it so well, princess, can’t wait to feel you come around this cock,” he rasps into your ear, taking a lobe between his teeth and nibbling gently.

Your pleasure swirls inside of you, building and building into white hot pressure against your clit, causing your breaths to quicken and thighs to clench.

“Logan, I’m—“ you warn.

“Look into my eyes when I make you come, babygirl,” Logan commands, pulling your head back to look at you.

“M-my eyes?” you question, a wave of realization washing over your face of what he might see if that happens, “No…I can’t.”

A gasp jerks you awake. Your chest heaves, your pussy clenching around nothing. A pain grows in your neck and lower back, due to the position you feel asleep in your chair. This one felt so much more real than the last one, a slight lucidity to your thoughts and feelings. How the hell are you supposed to look him in the eye on Friday? Everything just felt so right.

Doing your best to shake your feelings from your head, you check the time on your phone to see it’s only 1:45 am. You huff in annoyance, looking back to the essay you neglected for a wet dream.

...

A/N: i promise this will probably be the last chapter that ends like this, i just desperately need an excuse to write logan smut without compromising the plot too much🤭 hope you enjoyed. to view this work on ao3 click here

[syrupfog]

When Law manages to escape Flevance, the first thing he does while the amber lead still wracks his body is to carefully shave his horns, once dark and glorious and starting to curve forward like his father’s but now white and patchy like the rest of him, down to the stump. +

As long as he keeps his hat on, no one can tell, they can’t see the two little bald patches near his temples that his hair doesn’t quite cover. 

He joins Doflamingo easily and no one asks questions, why would they? He’s just a kid dying of an incurable disease.

Cora takes him and tries to cure him but they never even get close enough to a doctor for one to properly examine him. Cora dies thinking Law is human, and that’s— that’s *good*. Because despite everything, Cora cared about him, and Law didn’t want to jeopardise that.

With the op op fruit he tries to remove them altogether— they keep growing back, slowly getting to the point of having to be filed down— but after a lot of testing, he finds that they’re truly part of his skull; nothing he did would remove them completely.

So he doesn’t. He gets a crew, and gets a ship, and in secret once a month or so squirrels himself away and takes a file to his horns. 

He wonders sometimes if Cora *would* have treated him differently. 

But that’s not something he’ll ever know. He doesn’t dwell on it. Much.

They make it to the grand line, and they keep going. He’s here to avenge Cora, by any means necessary. They make it to the halfway point, to Saboady, and Law witnesses the final member of the Worst Generation arrive and promptly punch a Celestial Dragon in the face.

The stumps that he had shaved down just before they landed here tingle as he watches it happen. 

His hair’s grown out enough that he’d probably be safe now even if his hat came off. He watches the mermaid slave on stage and wonders if Straw Hat would do that for a stranger, too.

That’s probably why he saves Straw Hat at Marineford, although he tells his crew it’s just for the chance to stick his hands into something as unique as a rubber man’s guts. Shachi turns green at the thought. That’s why he’s not allowed in the operating room.

It’s two years later and he’s sent his crew away. He’s living in Punk Hazard, planning and biding his time. The worst case scenario has begun, though. He’d thought the amber lead had destroyed his genes enough when he was young, but apparently it had just delayed him.

So it’s in Punk Hazard that he starts handling a knife up against his shoulder blades, cutting out the bone that has begun to sprout into wings. 

He gets a tattoo to cover it. His Jolly Roger; the eyes right where the stumps of his wings keep breaking through. He’s too far along in his plan to let anything get in his way, especially not something like being recognised for this. 

Then, after not having seen him for two years, Straw Hat appears.

 Straw Hat appears and the alliance happens. Easily, so easily. And Dressrosa— 

Well Dressrosa doesn’t happen like Law planned it, but he watches as this pirate who did the unthinkable to save a slave takes down the man of Law’s nightmares. And Law— well he’d never planned for what comes next. He’d never thought there was a next.

The horns that have started to grow again under his hat feel tingly and sensitive as he watches the birdcage fall.

Zou happens and his crew is here. They’re alive and he’s alive and for a moment Law considers doing what he’s never done before, and just *showing* them, because he’s not trying to just keep himself alive long enough to kill Doflamingo now; he’s trying to live.

And he doesn’t show them, maybe because he’s a coward or maybe because they still have Kaido— he owes Luffy Kaido’s defeat. 

But he doesn’t show them and they continue on to Wano and he shaves off the stumps of his wings in the night. They seem to grow faster now, somehow.

Wano happens. 

Onegashima happens. 

Law stakes one of the four emperors and sends her to the depths, and then as he’s laying there, spent and exhausted and knowing that he can do nothing to change the outcome of whatever’s happening with Kaido— 

He hears that heartbeat.

He hears it in his soul. 

He sees Luffy appear. Sees him rocket over them, a streak of white light and joy. 

And Law thinks of Flevance in a way he hasn’t allowed himself to in a very long time. 

He thinks of the white walkways and the white houses and the white churches.

He thinks about being told the myth that he never truly believed, that he’s the descendant of the sun god’s servant. That his horns and tail are supposed to be in contrast to the light of the sun god. That the sun god’s servant is meant to trail in his shadow, live for his light.

Law has long ago stopped believing in anything. 

But as Kaido goes flying and Luffy laughs, bounces, shapes the very world around him, for one moment he looks down and latches eyes with Law. 

He reaches down— a

nd grabs Law around the torso, picking him up like a doll.

Law gasps in something like shock as he’s thrown into the air. His horns erupt from his forehead, growing to the full gnarled length Law never let them. His wings burst from his back in a shower of blackened scales, the size his father’s once were.

Luffy bounces and zips about and then he’s back, hovering in front of Law as Law has dropped to the earth again, clutching at his horns as if to hide them. Outside of Flevance his people have always been killed— if not worse— for their mere connection to the sun god.

But Luffy blinks at him and laughs and says, “Aren’t you ready yet?” 

And Law shakes as he says, “for what?” 

Luffy says, “I don’t know. But I know you’re supposed to be there with me.” 

And Law knows it too. Knows it like it’s something innate.

He says, “I’m not ready. But I’m coming.” 

He knows Kaido’s going down, because the Luffy he sees before him is the Luffy he once saw as a child in the stained glass of the temple wall.

But he also knows it because he saw Luffy defend a slave in Saboady two years ago. Because Luffy is everything Law has waited for and refused to believe was real. 

He flaps his wings and it hurts because everything hurts, but Luffy waits for him to grow into himself.

And then he follows Luffy. Because he’s meant to.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

A Southern Myth

Summary: Leon had been sent to a rural place in Texas where sightings of a BOW were reported. But upon entering the forgotten town, he began to get entangled in a horrific twist of events involving a religious cult. Things escalate and now he must survive with the help of a girl who doesn’t believe in anything.

Warning: horror. religion. mentions of blood and gore like description. cult activities. violence. swearing. reader is fem. there is no romance/smut.

A/N: omg I’ve never written something like this before🙈 CAPCOM should hire me for script writing.

“You believe you're on the righteous path, you believe you're a force for good, but you're not.” - John Seed, Far Cry 5

“Come forth, my children. Let your souls become pure under His guidance.”

“Let us rejoice in purity as we bathe in this sacrifice. Let us become one for Him, for He has been waiting.”

-

The sound of the dirt rolling under the car’s wheel made the road feel bumpy for Leon. The heat was intense the further he went into the rural side of what was once a town named Giligand in Texas. Once a lively town that had become a ghost town.

Until a group of religious settlers took over the desert land and claimed it their new home. They built their own society, far away from modern civilization. The orange and dried plants surrounding the new town as the wind blew hard. The sun intensified and caused Leon’s sweat to trickle down his body.

Right in the middle of nowhere is where he got sent- yet again. The D.S.O has assigned Leon a more haunting mission. The government division found in Texas’ own legislation had found weird signs of an unknown entity roaming around the dried up land. He found himself standing in front of an agent in Austin telling him about this entity.

“Our homeland security experts have raised a few concerns regarding a secluded town in Western Texas. They believe that this could be related to the virus incident that presided in other countries,” The senior agent stated as he gave Leon a stack of papers containing pictures and files of the sightings.

The abnormality was big and round. But its eyes were the only visible thing in the dark of night. Pure white eyes protruding from the creature’s face, sending a wave of uneasiness to Leon. The monster seemed tall, definitely more than 9 feet tall. Leon couldn’t tell exactly what it was but he guessed there were some sort of horns coming out the creature’s skull.

Leon had finally reached the town, being greeted by a yellowing sign. The sign written in Times New Roman “Welcome to Cunstacin” on the bottom “previously Giligand” and then near the border edge “Pop. 189”

Such a small town for a big state. Leon didn’t think much of it. He wasn’t aware of how much his life would change the minute he passed the sign without seeing those pure white eyes watching him from behind his truck.

The town itself was small but seemed very busy. The roads were flat with gravel. The houses were old and barren but still usable. He wondered how people were able to make a living of such an abandoned place. As he neared a motel, he was met with the leader of the town. A tall man of tan skin, hair long enough to reach his shoulders as his beard grew to his neck.

He approached Leon’s truck and greeted him with a polite smile, “Ah, you must be the new guy they sent here.” Leon nodded as he turned off the engine and jumped out of his car.

The man walked up to Leon and patted his shoulder, “Hope the road wasn’t too tedious. The distance between here and the city is pretty stretchy.” The man chuckled and looked behind him where two young women stood. “Go fetch his luggage and take it to his room. We don’t want to make our esteemed guest work too much now, don’t we?”

The two ladies nodded and walked over to the trunk of Leon’s truck. They both carried the brown and thick luggages to the motel, their silhouettes getting lost in between the halls.

The man then gently forced Leon to walk with him, “I’m sure you’re tired and you might want to get some rest, but there’s an afternoon mass the town wishes for you to attend. The people want to meet the new guy in town,” the man laughed again and gave Leon’s chest a lazy slap.

“I appreciate the offer but I’m here for work- strictly for work,” Leon replied as he looked at the man and then around the area.

The man chuckled and took his hand away from Leon’s shoulder, “No worries- I get it. You’re a busy guy and your work ethic is commendable,” the man leaned towards Leon’s ear to whisper, “But if you find yourself in need of His words, do come to the church behind the Great Willowed Forest.” The man leaned back and gave him another toothy smile, almost unsettling. “Make yourself at home.” That was the last thing the man said before he began to walk away.

Leon exhaled through his nose. He already got the creeps from the background check he ran on the town but meeting the people in person made the whole experience much more precarious.

He began to walk along the town, trying to find any other civilians. He saw an older woman with two children outside a two story building.

“Excuse me,” Leon said as he jogged to the three individuals. One of the children, a little boy with a bowl haircut pointed to Leon and exclaimed, “Look, meemaw- ‘tis the new guy!” The older woman slapped the little boy’s head, “Pointing at strangers is rude.”

Leon cleared his throat, “It’s alright,” he looked down at the kid before looking back at the older woman, “I’ve heard there were some strange… sightings around this town-“

“Ah, yes-“ the woman cut him off, “You’re talking Tervin.” Leon immediately furrowed his brows. They had named the potential B.O.W?

“Tervin?” Leon asked and the woman nodded, “Yes. He was sent by God,” she looked up at the sky and then back at him.

“He was kind enough to send us a messenger. My boy, the end is coming. We must cleanse our souls of our sins in order to enter our Eden.”

Leon immediately felt a weird sense of unease in his lower stomach, the bottom pit sinking down after the woman spoke.

The woman took a step forward and cupped Leon’s face, “He is our savior. He will bring us to an eternal peace. Time is ticking, we must proceed with His plan.”

Leon took a step back, taking deep breaths. What was this feeling? His heart was hammering against his rib cage and he could feel his head become light. Maybe it was heatstroke or maybe it was fear.

The woman stared at Leon, seemingly in a trance. He swore he saw her eye color vanish for a moment, not right before she “came back” and smiled at him. She then took hold of the two children’s hands and walked away. He could only stay there watching as they got further away.

He exhaled shakily as he ran a hand through his hair, this would be harder than he thought.

-

For the next following days, he’s been trying to talk to these people but everyone said remotely the same things.

“Monster? He’s no monster. He’s our salvation.”

“God sent him, it is His gift to us.”

“We must act quickly, the end is nigh”

Leon was currently sitting on the edge of the bed in the room he was currently staying. His elbows rested on his knees as his gaze fell on the picture of the creature he had in his hand. Pure black, except for the eyes. Something felt sinister- almost too evil. But he couldn’t pinpoint what. Everyone looked normal-ish.

He left the motel and began his 15th round of research. He was so sure he’d get kicked out if he kept asking the people questions. His mind traveled back to what the leader said, something about attending mass.

He didn’t want to but he knew that he had to try. Maybe there was something that could be useful in the church.

So that’s where he was headed. To the Great Willowed Forest. A forest full of tall trees and tall grass. The sun was setting and the church came into his line of vision. A tall Victorian structure that was adorned in white and gold. A bell sitting on top of the highest tower peak of the religious establishment. He slowly walked up the freaking and old steps of the church. Muffled talking from just the other of the door. With a light inhale, he pushed the door open with gentleness and stepped into the church.

The inside was much more beautiful. The benches were neatly fixed in rows as the windows were stained glass depicting stories of their God. The church was packed and the leader stood on the podium, preaching about their path to salvation.

“We must obey the Lord’s rule. For we are His children as well as His servants. We must makeup for the loss of His journey.”

Leon found himself an empty seat at the very back. No one seemed to have noticed him enter, they were all focusing on the town’s leader words. Almost as if they were bewitched.

“Tonight, we must bring our sacrifice and cleanse our souls. We must savor the taste of blood as He has given us a vessel from his sacrifices. We must show him our devotion.”

The mass lasted for an hour and a half, and he didn’t find anything remotely useful. He sighed in defeat as he felt like he wasted his time, yet again. There were no signs of any B.O.W and these people were most certainly convinced that the monster was their key to heaven.

It was nighttime when Leon had left the church, walking aimlessly through the forest. His mind preoccupied with thoughts about potentially lying to the D.S.O and telling them it was just some southern myth.

Until he hears clinking sounds coming from behind a bush. His agent instincts activated and he quietly walked towards the bush to see what was behind it.

To his surprise, he’d found another person. A girl working on a garden. She had been couched down on the floor as her hands worked through the soil.

As he walked towards you, his boots crunched against the twigs lost in the grass. Your attention had been drawn to the sound and you quickly spotted the new man in town.

You furrowed your brows as he approached you, “You’re the new guy everyone’s talking about.”

Leon nodded curtly, “The one and only,” you hummed in response and resumed your duties.

“Can I ask-“

“No.”

He was caught off guard by your immediate answer. You didn’t even look back at him. He could only stare at the back of your head as your hands worked through the soil.

“You didn’t even listen to what I had to say,” he approached you and crouched next to you, glancing at the plants you’ve been planting.

“I don’t need to. You’re asking questions about this stupid and fake thing everyone claims to be salvation or some other bullshit,” you grumbled.

“Not necessarily-“ he sighed and looked at your side profile, “I’m not here for that-“

“What do you want me to tell you? That there’s some sort of monster roaming around the forest?” You turned your head to look at him, “Because I won’t. I haven’t seen anything and I do not believe it even exists. Those lunatics are hell bent on their stupid… belief,” you scoffed as you turned your attention back to your plants.

“Bunch of bullshit if you ask me,” you muttered. He looked at you some more before looking back down at your hands covered in dirt.

“So you aren’t with those people?” Leon raised a brow as he analyzed you. You shook your head no, “Hell no. You don’t know what they do to those who don’t believe in their God… you don’t know anything.”

Leon remained silent as your words settled down in his mind. There was more than what you led on and both of you knew this.

“Then tell me,” he replied quietly. You sighed and looked at him with an annoyed expression, “Doesn’t matter. Just go back to your shit and mind your business.”

He didn’t say anything, he just watched you for a few minutes before he stood up and left.

He went back to his motel room and laid down on the bed. Staring up at ceiling as he thought about the events that took place. He still couldn’t shake off the strange feeling he felt about this town. Something felt odd but he just didn’t know what. He sighed and decided to just sleep for the night.

-

Leon woke up early in the morning and tried to find the leader of the town. Surprisingly, he was at the church. He was sitting down on a bench, silently praying. Leon walked up to him and sat next to him as he waited for him to finish praying.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our visitor. To what do I owe the pleasure?” The man said as he noticed Leon’s presence next to him. Leon cleared his throat and pulled out a picture of ‘Tervin’

“I need you to tell me about this. What do you know?” Leon’s brows were furrowed, he was serious. He didn’t come around to play. The man took the picture and stared at it. Something in his aura had changed upon seeing that picture.

“Where did you get this?” The man asked as he looked at Leon with an unreadable expression. Leon shrugged, “I can’t say.” The man hummed and looked back at the altar in front of them.

“Tervin is a gift from God. He was sent as a warning of impending doom,” the man replied in a flat voice. “If he isn’t satisfied, then he seeks blood. We must cleanse this town of impurities and relay a message to God that we are worthy of his Eden paradise.”

Something in that caused a shiver to run down Leon’s spine, but he didn’t show it. He remained serious and calm. Leon nodded once and stood up, feeling like no one will actually tell him anything.

“Thanks,” he muttered before he left the church. When he walked out, he nearly crashed into you.

“Watch it,” you hissed at him. He looked down at you with a raised brow, “I’m pretty sure you meant ‘excuse me’” he crossed his arms over his chest and kept blocking the doorway.

You sighed and looked at him unimpressed, “Excuse me.” Leon rolled his eyes and stepped to the side. As you began to walk past him, you noticed the picture in his hands. Your brows pinched together and you quickly pointed to it, “what’s that?”

Leon looked down at the picture and then back at you, “I’m supposed to investigate this… thing.” He watched you closely, trying to gauge your reaction as you stood there silently thinking.

“You’ll get yourself in trouble if you keep putting your nose where it doesn’t belong,” you warned before stepping inside the church. He saw you walk up to the leader. He exhaled and walked back to the town. When will someone actually help him?

-

It was somewhere past 11 pm, he was staring at the files he had about this town and his objective. It was impossible to think how he didn’t have any leads. It was the Leon S Kennedy! He always saw that the job got done, always.

He groaned defeatedly and began to walk around the town, he doesn’t even know how many times he’s done that.

The town was awfully quiet. There was a fog occupying most of his vision, making the place look eerie and unsettling. He heard the rustling of the trees and grasses but he paid no mind to that. Not right now, at least.

He saw you sitting on a fountain, staring at your reflection deep in thought. Why were you the only one out here. He walked over to you and spoke in a soft voice, “What are you doing out here?”

You looked over at him and then back at the water, “Could ask you the same.”

Leon sighed and scratched his head, “I just- I wanted to ask questions but seems like everyone just… disappeared.”

You hummed in response as your fingers played with the water, “They didn’t. They’re at the church praying or something.”

His ears perked up, praying at this time? He didn’t want to question it but it still lingered in his mind.

After a few moments of silence, he couldn’t help but ask, “You said you didn’t believe in God, why is that?” He asked in a quiet voice.

You looked at him before motioning for him to follow you, “It’s better if I just showed you.”

You led him through the dark forest, twigs snapping under your shoes and wind howling soft whispers as the moonlight glimmered down you two.

“This town ostracizes those who don’t believe in God. Do you know what happens to nonbelievers?” You looked behind your shoulder to glance at Leon for a brief moment.

“No, I don’t but do tell,” he followed behind you as his eyes scanned the forest for any threats.

You sighed and stopped walking once you’ve reached an abandoned cemetery, you walked up to one of the gravestones and stared down at the name, “Jeffrey Clyle. 1987-2024.”

“Sacrifice,” you whispered. Leon heard you and walked up next to you, your eyes distant and your expression solemn.

“Ever since rumors of the “messenger” started, they’ve been capturing and targeting those whose faith has been faltering…” your gaze remained down at the gravestone and Leon remained silent as he let you talk.

“They’ve been doing human sacrifices in the name of God. They believe that God would forgive them if they kill those who oppose him…” your voice trailed off for a moment before you turned your face to look at him, “It’s evil. Punishing people for not believing in something is inhumane. They’re all slaves to their own fucking religion, that God is not kind and I will never believe in it.”

“Then what are you still doing here?” Leon asked as he stared into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Because my father is the fucking leader of this whole thing. I can’t just leave,” you mumbled and looked away. “I already get judged for not believing- imagine what would happen to me if I left?”

He remained silent once again. Your father was the preacher and the leader of the town? That makes things even more interesting. Leon never pictured himself to be in this kind of situation- not since Spain, at least. It all seemed the same to him. Religion controlling people, is that all it will ever be?

Then he remembered something from mass he attended,

“Tonight, we must bring our sacrifice and cleanse our souls. We must savor the taste of blood as He has given us a vessel from his sacrifices. We must show him our devotion.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he began to finally realize what might happen. He looked down at you, “You mean to tell me… that your father participates in human sacrifices? Why?” His eyes were narrowed as his breathing became faster.

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Because his idiotic self thinks that sacrificing people will help him and his goons reach their heaven.”

Innocent lives were being used for this town’s religion. This didn’t sit right with Leon. He quickly ran out of the cemetery- his heartbeat speeding as his legs carried his body towards the church.

Under the embrace of the moon and the night, a gathering assembled at the edge of the churchyard, shrouded by the shadows cast by the townspeople. Their faces unrecognizable under the dark night, their chants in hushed tones as they circled around a sacrifice.

Bound by chains, a person writhed in resistance, their muffled cries stifled by a potato sack over their head. Leon stood behind a tree as you came behind him to look at the scene unfold in front of your eyes.

The leader of the town emerged, wielding a sacrificial blade gleaming under the moonlight. Each stroke of the blade sent shivers down your’s and Leon’s spine, as the victim's anguished pleas echoed through the night, a haunting presence appeared through the tethered night.

“We give this sacrifice to you, our Lord. Let us repent for our sins and wash ourselves with the blood of those who’ve been cleansed.”

The creature- otherwise known as the B.O.W- emerged from behind the forest and entered the churchyard. Its stature was 11 feet, towering over everyone. Its black glistening skin reflected the moonlight as its pearly white eyes penetrated the group of believers. Its horns swirled upwards, reaching up to the sky. The townspeople all bowed to the creature as they chanted its name, “All hail Tervin.”

Leon’s eyes widened as he saw the B.O.W while your eyes widened at the fact that this “messenger” was indeed real. Leon took out his gun and aimed it at the B.O.W. You quickly pulled his arm down and whispered in a harsh tone, “Are you stupid? That thing could be dangerous.”

Leon narrowed his eyes at you, “I’ve fought those things before, I know what I’m doing.” He shook your hands away from his arm and aimed the gun back at the beast.

The beast approached the human sacrifice and with its claws, it picked up. Almost instantly crushing the human, letting the blood fall down like rain on the townspeople.

“Thank you, Lord, for this blessing”

The B.O.W then ate the human sacrifice after the townspeople showered in their blood. A scene so horrific and disturbing, it twisted your stomach upside down. The creeping sensation of the fact that it could’ve been you in that situation only made it worse.

To feel your rib cage cave in, piercing your lungs and heart as blood trickles down your mouth. Its claws clawing into your body, letting the blood flow like water.

It only made you shiver and writhe in disgust.

Leon then began to shoot at the B.O.W with his gun, drawing the attention of the townspeople. One bullet shot the creature’s eye, causing it to stagger backwards in pain. The group of believers all turned to look at you and Leon.

Their faces unrecognizable- their faces foreign as the creases and eyes all felt like distinct people. The group slowly began to walk towards you two as the monster howled in anger.

“God, forgive those sinners. They haven’t sought your guidance. Let us illuminate their path,”

The leader spoke as they approached you and Leon. Anxiety coursed through your body as you saw the B.O.W swing its claws at the group of believers. People flying left and right. The leader turned around and observed in delight.

“Yes, God, yes! We shall sacrifice ourselves for Eden.”

The whole group then began to chant, “For Eden. For Tervin.”

The B.O.W only had one goal in mind- and it was to kill the person who injured it. As Tervin kept walking towards you and Leon, Leon took hold of your wrist and began to ran. He dragged you through the forest back to the motel he was staying in.

He looked the door to his room and turned to look at you, “What the fuck was that!?” Leon was stressing, all these emotions resurfaced and he felt overwhelmed. Why was this happening, how was this happening?

“I told you, they’re fucking evil when it comes to their God,” you replied harshly.

“Yeah I wasn’t exactly expecting your father to be the leader of a cult with that thing as its dog!,” Leon replied as his hands traveled through his face and hair.

You scoffed and crossed your arms over you chest but just as you were to speak, the ground shook. Heavy footsteps were heard and Leon rushed to the window. He peeked through the blinds and saw the group of believers walking over to the motel with Tervin in following them. They kept chanting as they kept walking.

“We need to get out of here now-“ you said as you began to hurry out the door. Leon, however, stopped you.

“I can’t just leave, I have a mission to do and it requires me to kill that thing. I cannot go home until it’s dead,” he said as he stared at you with a resolved expression.

You could only stare at him in silence for a few moments before sighing defeatedly, “Fine, do whatever you want.”

“Stay here,” he instructed as he took his gun and walked out, leaving you alone in his motel room.

In the flickering glow of the moonlight, amidst the eerie chants of the cultists, Leon stood there, gun in hand as he scanned the group. He needed to be smart. They had a B.O.W to their advantage.

As the first cultist lunged forward, knife in hand, Leon countered with swift precision, deflecting the blade with a punch to the gut. His movements were a blur of calculated strikes and evasions. As he killed and wounded the cultists, they grew more frenzied, their chants escalating into desperate cries of fury. Yet, undeterred, Leon continued fighting.

“We must bring him to God!” They chanted as they kept lunging at Leon.

Amidst the chaos, the B.O.W stepped forward, its twisted features contorted with rage as it charged at Leon. With the gun pointed at the beast, he shot bullet after bullet, causing it to slow its movements.

“God, please forgive our brother for he has sinned. We must cleanse him.”

Leon ran out of bullets and just as the B.O.W was about to strike, he saw you throw a pitchfork at it. The blades piercing the creature’s skin, stabbing it right in the chest.

The B.O.W let out a screeching scream, “No! Our messenger!” The leader spoke in anguish as he watched the creature stumble back, falling to the ground with a thud. Leon reloaded his gun and began to shoot again, this time aiming for the head.

As Leon became busy, your father glared at you and it was like something turned in him, “You bitch. I’ve had just about it with you. You will submit to your God and you will repent!”

You’ve never heard him speak to you this way, so much malice in his voice that you didn’t recognize the man that used to be your father.

He lunged at you, his hands trying to reach for your neck to strangle you. You took a nearby torch and set his clothes on fire. He stood back and tried to set the fire off of himself- to which he fails. He screams and cries in pain as he began to get engulfed in the flames of his sins.

“Forgive me, my children!”

You finally understood everything. There was no God because your father believed he was that God. The flames burned up in hues of blue and orange right before the sparks flew into the night sky.

His skin melted, his eyes became a blobby mess and he fell to the ground. His screech becoming more faint as the life in being burnt away from his body. The flames expanding over the dried wheat of the town, engulfing the town in a pit of fire.

Leon had been too busy to even notice that you killed your father. He’s been shooting the B.O.W, making sure to blow its head off once and for all.

After two rounds of reloading, he finally was able to kill that damn thing. Watching it fall to the ground, sending harsh vibrations to the floor as silence overtook the ghostly town.

Heavy panting overtook the two of you as the silence grew deafening. You turned to look at Leon as he stared at the B.O.W all lifeless. You looked around and saw the bloodbath. Everyone was dead.

Pools of blood stained the gravel he once stepped, the lifeless bodies of the townspeople growing cold. The flames being the only source of light under the dark night.

Leon turned to look at you for a brief moment before looking up at sky as he tried to take deep breaths. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t believe what he was brought into. But he was glad it was over. For now at least.

Leon packed his things and went over to his truck, he looked at you, “Aren’t you coming?”

You looked at him and then back at the town- or what remained of the town. You nodded and walked over to his truck.

Both of you driving down the lane of the rose, exiting the town. Passing by a sign that read, “Please visit soon!”

Unaware of the presence with the white eyes watching you two leave the town.

[wolfatemybaby]

Chat I’m normal about them

My Zeus was highly based on @neal-illustrator ’s and @anniflamma ’s designs. I mostly winged it with Hera

I wanted Hera to be completely opposite to Zeus but also feel similar without actually being so.

Zeus is buff and top heavy, but isn't too buff, he still has fat for he is a king who likes to indulge himself. While Hera is fat but she has a body of a working mother. I also wanted her to be fat in my design because her statues are chubby. Why is mother skinny in so many designs?! (/not neg) Hera's face shape is slim and flat and Zeus has a full face of hair. So to correlate them together: Hera's hair covers part of her face and Zeus' beard is tied into a braid, "slimming" it down to mimic Hera's natural jawline, and both reaching the same placement in length.

Zeus' lightning bolt floats down and Hera's hair floating to the top shaping into a feather

Of course there's a galaxy bridal like veil that frames Hera's body while Zeus frames his face with his own cloud. Her's being full of colour while his is usually white but can become colourful when enraged. The veil kind of makes Hera feel disconnected from you

Hera's outfits match with the Zeus! Her clothes are more simpler than Zeus' and drape from her right while his drape from his left. Hera hates that they match everyday, and Zeus does as well but pissing off his wife is worth it.

- I stole the lightning bolt chain idea from my friend, August’s Zeus design

- Hera has a piercing in 1st fit which is HC’d that she got it when she was younger and keeps it as an act of rebellion. Zeus also has a nose piercing that he wears at all times

- My friends told me to name Zeus' second outfit the "Eepy Fit" and I was like "If that's the Eepy Fit, it gotta be pink." And so it is pink. And next to it is Hera's Mom Fit // outfit of a working mother in Greece. Think about it (:

- The third outfit you see the couple in: Hera has chains while Zeus' has strings

- Will be talking about the 1st and the 4th fit symbolism in the coloured section

They both have shiny nails, but Hera has her toes painted Zeus' claws aren't. It's inconvenient because they'd get chipped all the time, and he'd have to keep filing the nail polish off and repainting.

Originally I wanted Hera and Zeus look the most human because they are the mother / father of men. eg. making them have human skin colours. It didn't work out in the end but I still wanted to use the colours, so Hera's stomach was her og colour and Zeus' feet and horns are his og colour. And also the lightning scars on her stomach...

Continuing with the colour talk. Colours were the hardest for me when designing, especially with Hera. She went through many variations, and my clone had to sit through over an hour of me stressing. He helped a lot with the colours and I'm happy with the end result.

Green and yellow are close on the colour wheel and I wanted them to phase together like those colours, both having the accent of the cooler tones with Hera's purple and Zeus' blue. But I went in a somewhat different direction: They didn't literally blend together like I hoped in the beginning but they do in a sibling type of way...

I made Hera's skin deeper in colour and Zeus shiny. Then in reverse it for the hair. Her being accented by red because that's one of her colours + period blood symbolism and just her veil being purple, while Zeus being the one wearing the purple. He wears the colour of the barrier between you and her. Her hair is the only shining thing because that's out of the veil

[dontsh0vethesun]

fire

masterlist

melissa schemmenti x reader

pure fluff, kissing, slightly suggestive comments

a/n - based on the ep of the same name because firefighter obsessed melissa is the cutest thing on the planet - wrote this as i rewatched it so hopefully it's not poopoo caca | wc: 1.5k

Maybe you shouldn’t be this smiley following a fire in the break room. It should probably be your main focus. But knowing that there’s a fire truck just outside the school has you buzzing with excitement. And seeing an equally as excited Melissa Schemmenti as you lead your class in a single file down the hallway just made you smile even more. 

“Mel, do you think there’s a chance you could use your skill of persuasion to get me a turn in the truck?” you asked her, smiling so innocently that she couldn’t help but mentally swoon. 

“Right ahead of ya,” she returned before turning to her kids who were waiting to be let back into class. “Okay, now, everyone drop your bags. Zip those coats back up - we’re going on an excursion.”

“What’s an excursion?” one of them questioned. 

“That’s where youse all work those puppy dog eyes to get the firefighters to let us play on the truck,” she answered, loving how you practically bounced your way outside beside her, two rows of children in tow. “I always wanted to be a firefighter - I didn’t realise you were into it all too.”

“Well, I’m not, exactly,” you began, slightly embarrassed at your real reason for rushing outside. “I’ve just always wanted one of those helmets. And to sit in a truck. And maybe put the sirens on.”

Melissa couldn’t help the way her smile seemed impossible to dampen, she stood opposite you as you held the doors open for the kids to follow you outside. She didn’t walk off without leaning in so closely you could smell her perfume though, with her breath against your cheek in a way that made your cheeks set alight. 

“You in a firefighter uniform? I’d definitely buy that calendar.”

You accepted your infatuation with the older woman a while ago, as she had with you. But you both had your fears, dancing on that line between friends and lovers, at a stalemate waiting for the other to make a move.

“See, this is why I love fire trucks. I get older, they stay the same,” she mused, looking at the vehicle. “Nothing beats fire engine red.”

You’re sure she looked at you as she spoke, though you couldn’t return the gaze, too flustered by her as always. The way her jeans made your imagination run wild, how she had the most adorable ramblings for her interest. And, of course, you knew the statement was true. Fire engine red truly was sublime. 

It seemed to only be the pair of you to find amusement in the loud blare from the horn when she pressed it but with a shared bubble of laughter, you couldn’t care less about looking ‘uncool’ in front of the kids. 

“Want a go?” Melissa asked, laughing at your eagerness as you nodded and took her outstretched hand. 

“As if I’d say no,” you answered, feeling bashful when she pulled you onto her lap. She’d claim there was nowhere else for you to sit, that sliding over to the driver’s seat would be too much hassle. She wouldn’t mention the smirk she hid from you when she rested her hands on your waist. 

Again, the both of you received disapproving looks from the firefighters when the horn broke through all the noise, giggling to yourselves immaturely. 

Before long, you’d gone your separate ways, with Melissa spewing knowledge about the topic and you making your way to a man scrolling through his phone. 

“Hey,” you smiled.

“Hi,” he returned, already buying the bordering flirtatious smile you gave him. “You work here?”

“No, I just walked in off the street,” you returned, huffing a laugh at his concerned look. “Yeah, of course I work here. You a firefighter?”

“Touche,” he laughed, “So, what can I do for ya?” 

You almost feel guilty for letting him down, but there’s only one Phillie-accented voice that can make your heart skip a beat. 

“I noticed that there’s a spare jacket lyin’ around,” you uttered with a gesture towards the discarded clothing lying on the ground next to him. “And I was wondering if maybe there’s a hat to go along with it?”

You could tell he was disappointed. You could also tell he was about to deny your request but his words fell on deaf ears when you picked the coat up anyway, smiling largely as you pulled it onto your body. 

“Mel!” you shouted, half jogging away from the owner of the jacket. “How do I look?” 

You gave her a little twirl, the sleeves burying your hands in a way she thought was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen. 

“Like a million bucks,” she smirked, admiring you fondly. “How’d you get ‘em to let you wear it?”

“She didn’t.” Neither of you had noticed him standing near you with a slightly annoyed look on his face. You almost shrunk under his stare but you were too pleased with yourself to care. 

You also didn’t notice Barbara and Jacob asking the group of bored children what they were doing. They approached whilst you returned the jacket with a frown.

“You two are more immature than my kindergarteners,” Barbara tutted. “Now, come inside, we have a mandatory fire safety talk.” 

You’d both been perfectly chastised and followed everybody in without argument.

–

Later on in the day, you’d found her doing what you were headed to do as well, bidding a final farewell to the gloriously red engine. 

“Ma’am, we really need to get going,” one of them sighed. “There’s got to be a fire somewhere.”

“Jacob,” you whispered, nudging your elbow into his side. “Do something.”

“What do you want me to do? I can’t force them to stay here.”

“C’mon, put those improv classes to use.”

Of course, that was enough to get him striding towards them, muttering something about Frisbee and practically fighting the hands away from his cookies that were almost used as a way to fetch it down. 

“Are you familiar with the Schemmentis of Southern Philidelphia?” you interrupted, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw the look of recognition you predicted to pass across his face. 

Soon enough you were watching Melissa climb a ladder to the roof. Part of you was terrified of the sight of heeled boots making their way up metal rungs. But the other watched on blissfully at the complete happiness on her face. You’d give anything to have this sight on a never-ending loop. 

“Thanks for lettin’ me do that,” she grinned once she’d climbed back down, still glowing from the excitement of the day. “Felt better than I could’ve imagined.”

You left her to her conversation, packing up your things from your classroom, cheeks aching from the glee you’ve felt today. You were stuck in your head, still reluctant to let go of the sight of Melissa in her own world. And maybe there were some less than wholesome ideations on your part, remembering the sight of the woman at the top of a ladder. 

A clearing of a throat behind you brought you back to earth and the sight of the redhead made heat crawl up your neck, mentally scolding yourself at the way your mind was beginning to wander. 

“Hey hot stuff,” she smirked; you rolled your eyes at her obvious pun but of course couldn’t help but return her smile. It was surprising how much your lips curl upwards when you’re in her presence, so effortless. 

“Hey.”

“I got ya somethin’,” she spoke, bringing her arms out from behind her back to reveal the shining firefighter helmet in her grasp. She laughed happily at the way you gasped. “Had to pay you back for getting ‘em to let me up on the roof,” she shrugged before placing it atop your head, brushing your hair away from your cheek while you shivered at the feeling of her finger stroking across your skin. 

“Thank you, Melissa,” you smiled, adjusting the way it sat on your head as she stepped closer to where you stood. 

“Anything to see a sweet thing like you lookin’ all cute,” she returned, daring to cup your cheek in her palm. You leant into her touch despite the way you wanted to shy away; there’s something about her that crushes the fear of vulnerability, you could never be anything but perfectly comfortable around her. 

“They wouldn’t let me try one on,” you pouted, which only made her eyes glint lovingly. 

“Eh, screw ‘em,” she chuckled, “Now, please, let me kiss you.”

You pulled her into you as soon as the words fell from her mouth. You felt her smile against your lips; you could feel the softness of her lip gloss and the lick of her tongue into your mouth. Your knees could’ve buckled if not for the firm hold she’d taken of your hips and yet you feared they’d betray you anyway when she pulled away with pink flushed cheeks and a heated look in her eyes. 

“Dinner at mine, tonight.” It wasn’t a question and her tone sent heat coursing through you; of course you nodded, unable to speak just yet as you tried to catch the breath she stole.

“How’d you get them to give you this, anyway?” you breathed, lips ghosting hers from how she couldn’t bring herself to pull away just yet.

“I’m Melissa Schemmenti,” she shrugged. “I always find a way to get what I want.”

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Academic Validation | Mike Kiernan x fem!student

Summary: The principal pays Mr. Kiernan a visit after school to ask after a promising young student.

Warnings: FLUFF! I made this for me and the other girlies who crave male-academic validation lol. The student isn't actually in this story, she's just talked about but she isn't there to hear it.

word count: 1186k

Hello My Old Heart- The Oh Hellos 🎶

Not proof read, sorry folks!

Mike Kiernan shuffled through a short stack of student papers on his desk. His gradebook was sitting open in front of him as his fingers worked down the pile. 

“Mr. Kiernan?” A man knocked on the gray door frame and poked his head into the classroom. Kiernan jumped slightly when he saw the principal at the door but laughed it off and beckoned him inside his empty classroom. 

“I’m glad I caught you alone,” the principal started. 

“Oh?” Kiernan chuckled as he watched the principal move a seat in front of the teacher’s desk and sit. 

“I had some questions about a student and you seem like the best person to ask.”

“Which student?” Kiernan asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He pulled open his desk drawer and slid his finger across the row of labeled folders. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” the principal responded and crossed his legs, “she’s up for an award at graduation. I said I’d talk to you first and try to get a recommendation from a teacher that knew her best.” 

“Oh, well I wouldn’t say that. Though she has been in most of my seminars.” The teacher laughed and found the file with the student’s name written across the top. 

“Well,” Kiernan started and opened the file on top of his gradebook, “what exactly do you want to know?” His blue eyes looked gray through the thick lenses of his horn-rimmed glasses. 

“What kind of student is she? What kind of stuff have you noticed about her as you’ve taught her?” The principal offered. 

He smiled at his boss before looking at Y/N’s file for a moment in silence. 

“Well I wrote her college recommendation letters.” 

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.” 

“She’s going to NYU, right?”

“Oh yes, she’s done well for herself.” 

Awkward silence fell between them again and Kiernan glanced out the window for a moment. He sniffed and pushed the bridge of his glasses further up his nose.

“Well in regard to her ability as a student, she’s one of the most talented students I’ve ever had. She engages in class and tries her best to contribute even if she doesn't understand the reading…”

Mr. Kiernan stared off into the distance as he recalled the girl. She was a memorable student, one that he’d miss having in class to make the hour-long period less awkward. When his questions fell flat and he was met with silence, the girl always raised her hand hesitantly and tried to answer. She had a remarkable sense of empathy, the ability to understand his job as a teacher and extend simple gestures of support. She was a beautiful person, inside and out. 

“She's an exceptionally bright young woman,” Kiernan started again and cleared his throat, “her last essay for my seminar was on Atonement, talented writer. She wrote about the ethics of lying in memory. There were of course parts I didn’t agree with but her argument was strong and well-researched. Things like that are always promising in a young student’s work.

“She’s going to do great things, I’m sure of it. We’re holding her back here. She’s better than my class, she’s just itching to be better somewhere else.”

“You obviously think very highly of her,” the principal smiled and folded his hands together. “What about her personality? The award considers who she is as a person outside of class, how she carries herself in other parts of academics.”

Kiernan bit his lip and tented his hands in front of his puffy lips. He could see her picking up her backpack and fixing the hem of her skirt as she stood up from her desk. He loved the way that she flicked her eyes up to his to make sure he didn’t see her fix her wedgie. She stayed after class sometimes to ask him questions and academic advice. 

I don’t know what to do after college, Mr. Kiernan.

That’s ok, Miss Y/L/N. Barely anyone does. I didn’t. 

I think I may want to be a teacher like you. 

You can, or you can strive to be even better.

But I want to be like you. 

You flatter me, Miss Y/L/N, but I know you’re capable of doing better. 

But who says being a teacher isn’t ‘better?’

I do. 

She was insecure sometimes, especially academically. He noticed quickly in the school year that she flushed bright red if he agreed with her during discussions, as if she was surprised that she had gotten the question right. She wanted to learn and get better but she was afraid to make mistakes. 

“She’s a bright student, as I’ve said, but she’s also humble and even insecure sometimes. She doesn’t think she’s as smart as she is which makes me sad sometimes as an educator. My job is to encourage confidence in the children I teach.”

“Right,” the principal nodded.

“She’s kind and passionate about the topics she feels drawn to in the literature we read. She’s a very kind young woman. She helps students outside of class and spends most of her free time reading in the library. She’s the kind of student that every teacher wants.”

She was always nervous to talk to him, nervous to be natural. It was sweet, tenderly sweet. She tried her best not to stand out too much in class but her questions and thoughts were too different not to be unique. Her mind worked in incredible ways. He bragged about her to the other teachers. She was just wonderful. 

“She’s just going to blow us all away. I don’t know which award she’s up for but I’m sure she deserves it. She’d honor the award as it deserves to be. I am so so proud of her.” He smiled politely and closed the student’s file. The principal nodded and sighed. He stood up and shook Mr. Kiernan’s hand before stepping up to the door. 

“Well thank you for speaking with me, I think you’ve just made my job very easy.” 

“I’m glad I could be of some help.” 

Mr. Kiernan watched as the principal left his classroom and stared at the student’s file that was still closed in front of him. He leaned back in his chair and massaged the sore points above his eyebrows. 

Was it appropriate to say that he was going to miss having her in his class next year? Perhaps he had taken her for granted. He might never have a student like her again. His thoughts ran away from him as he stared at the empty desks in front of him. If it weren’t for the professional barrier between them, he would have told her how much he admired her talent and skill. He’d written as much in her college recommendation letter, and so others had started to notice it too, he guessed. She was the kind of student a school takes for granted. He hoped that he would never take her for granted and put the file back with the others. A sentimental smile tugged at his lips as he closed the drawer and returned to grading.