#i don't mean that in the pompous way

[aeide-thea]

sometimes it really is just like. is this all there is. feeling oversensitive & undersocialized—too sensitive to socialize—forever, bc you never got enough ~affirmation~ growing up (poor, pathetic baby; how long will you persist in singing the same self-pitying song…), & so never developed the proper emotional cushioning against the heartache & the thousand natural shocks, &c, &c, &c, &c, &c…

[shannonsketches]

bruh I don't think people realize that in the dbz manga Vegeta is not combative with Bulma except for one (1) time and she ends up being so right about the situation that he just shuts the fuck up for the rest of the series akljdls

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

It's such a delicate thing to show your favourite piece of media to a person you like, because 1) you want them to love it, 2) you have to be normal about it for at least a short time to not make it awkward and 3) WHAT IF THEY MISINTERPRET SOMETHING REALLY IMPORTANT AND YOU CAN'T CORRECT THEM BECAUSE IT WOULD GIVE AWAY THAT YOU LITERALLY DON'T THINK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE???

[isekyaaa]

While like technically I think it'd be something like words of affirmation or quality time, my gut just tells me that Zh*ngli's highest love language is gift giving.

[teaandspite]

The Great Goodreads Diss List (Part 1)

Context: For many years now, I have been collecting funny lines from Goodreads reviews to share with my coworkers. (I do collection development, reader's advisory, and weeding at a public library, so I read a LOT of reviews)

Are some of these, perhaps, rather mean? Yes, but they are also very funny, and come from a place of honest frustration. In the tradition of Bargepole threads and lists everywhere, names and titles have been censored.

"First, I want to say that I understand how hard it is to write a book and how amazing it is when it is actually published. Congrats to the author for that accomplishment. That said--"

"Warning: This review will be lengthy due to pure hatred."

"I found myself feeling really, really annoyed with the world that this book is allowed to exist. We live in a universe where the passenger pigeon is extinct but this book goes along merrily being read by unsuspecting lovers of words and ideas and stories? It just seems like too much, you know?"

"Don't do it. Don't spring the cash for the hardcover. Instead, eat an entire bag of Twizzlers, spend some money you don't have at a high-end department store, look up on Facebook the shady college boyfriend that made you cry, research the current value of your home or 401K and then read all about how the big hedge fund managers are faring during the economic crisis. You'll feel about the same stomach pain if you waste your time reading this book."

"This wretched novel begins with the mugging of an old lady and it appears I may be in the process of repeating that loathsome crime as [author] was 78 when she wrote it. It is not nice to put the boot into such a poor defenseless old creature lying there with only a damehood, a Booker Prize and a few million quid. It’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it."

"I think this is the way dead people would write, if they could."

"I am considering setting up SPABB: Society for the Protection of Accurate Book Blurb. This blurb appears to have been written by someone from the publishers who met [the author] the night before, got very drunk, lost his notes and then constructed something in a fug of hangover the next morning."

"I congratulate [the author] on the early half of his book, which was thoroughly fun and made me laugh and think. I congratulate [the author] on the second half of his book, for finishing it. It reads like that was difficult."

"…a woman whose taste in contemporary literature has roughly the same batting average as a pitcher in the National League."

"The author is a pompous windbag."

"Recommends it for: No one. Recommended to me by: A friend who apparently wished to cause me great suffering."

"Makes me wonder: is it possible to obtain similes at a volume discount?"

"The repeated phrases made me want to mail a thesaurus to the author."

"I'm disappointed in myself for finishing this book."

"if the author described [character's] eyes as "obsidian" one more time I was tempted to write her and ask if her thesaurus broke."

"They say that an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters would, if given infinite time, eventually produce the complete works of William Shakespeare. [This book], on the other hand, would probably take the average monkey just under two hours."

"I can't imagine what the author had to do to get this nadir of Western literature printed on innocent trees, but he does seem to know a LOT about being well-connected in New York."

"This book is so bad it is almost worth reading just to make you appreciate the other books you are reading."

"Reads like it was written by a brilliant author, the night before it was due."

"raises interesting questions, like: can a book be so bad as to constitute an act of terrorism"

"has this author ever spoken to a human woman"

"This acorn has fallen so far from the tree that it can’t even see the forest."

"I’m guessing they are touted as ‘beach reads’ because no one will care if they get dropped into the ocean."

"This book begins with all the energy of a hand vacuum near the end of its battery life, and the pace doesn't quicken much from there."

"At least everybody’s eyes stayed the same color this time around.”

Part 2

Part 3

[frantic-fiction]

Tension 18+

Pic: littlelovelore

Astarion x f!reader

Summary: During a solo mission, Astarion takes the opportunity to indulge in some "depraved carnal lust".

Warnings: 18+ MDNI Slight enemies to lovers, sex bent over a desk, sex with clothes on, mild choking, rough sex, reader handles her crush like a fifth grader (by being mean) Astarion is his smug self

Word Count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Back-to-back posts brought to you by Bree's insomnia...Enjoy!

"Do you want me to do it?" Astarion smugly asks, flicking his wrist sharply, sending a dagger into the wood beam before him. He's leaning against the cracked wall of the tunnel. A condescending smile stretches across his pale lips.

"Shut the fuck up!" You snap, twisting the lockpick violently, it's stuck on something, and it is pissing you off. 

"My my, someone's testy today." The Vampire pushes off the wall to retrieve his dagger, only for you to hear the same thud of the knife hitting the abused beam once again.

You clench your jaw, wanting nothing more than to drown the bastard in the small stream of gray water. See him try to be a smartass when he's choking on sewage. 

No! Just breathe.

As soon as you get this damn door open, all you need is to grab the stolen lease for the damn butcher, and the party will have a nice payout. Then Astarion's snarky comments and teasing jabs can be ignored behind a glass of ale and a nice meal. 

Well, if you don't kill him first.

The relationship between you and the Vampire is a complex one, to say the least. Astarion is an arrogant, pompous dick. You're a temperamental stubborn asshole. It made for a messy mix of harsh insults and constant attempts to belittle the other.

It would have been so easy to hate him completely, but Astarion can be sweet under the cloak of night, and you could almost pretend he's a tolerable person when he speaks those honey-coated words. And when you let him feed from you, everything became so much more complicated.

The pick snaps, and you drop your head, groaning in frustration. You stand up and kick hard against a crate; the decayed wood breaks against your boot. Sighing in defeat, you motion to the rogue. 

Astarion laughs smoothly, tucking the knife away, and exchanges it for his thieves' tools. Giving you a wink, he bends down to examine the lock. You pretend not to admire the swell of his ass, but who are you kidding Astarion is extremely attractive.

With little to no fanfare, the lock turns over, and Astarion opens the door. "After you."

"I fucking hate you." You grumble, pushing past, making a point to shove your shoulder hard into the rouge.

"Keep telling yourself that Darling," 

You flip him off.

The sewer system is a winding path of tunnels leading to various places. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes. 

"Are you sure we are going the right way?" Astarion asks, breaking the peace.

"Of course, this is the right way." You hiss, glaring over your shoulder. "I can read a map."

"Just like you could pick a lock, yes?"

You don't think you've ever seen a more punchable face. You're almost tempted to smack him just to see his reaction. Instead, you practice a semblance of self-control and ignore him.

After a few more turns, you hit a dead end. It's nothing but a damp brick wall. Scanning the map, you're sure you followed all the proper steps; there should be an entrance. Stowing the stupid paper away, you begin feeling the brick for any invisible button, unwilling to admit defeat in front of Astarion. All hideouts have secret levers. Right?

"Well, sweetheart, I think you've gotten us lost."

"No, I didn't, jackass, now be useful for once and help me." You bend down and begin trailing your fingertips against the rough bricks near the floor.

"I don't think I will. I'm quite enjoying the view from here."

You look back towards the rogue, "What are you talking about–" you choke on your words.

 Astarion is shamelessly eyeing your form. A fang tugs at his bottom lip, hunger darkening his eyes. You swallow hard, and a flame ignites low in your stomach. You have a sudden urge to press him against the wall. That thought startles you. This is Astarion. The obnoxious, arrogant, attractive–no, stop that. You stand up and shake your head, willing your thoughts to clear. 

"You're ridiculous," you sigh and dig through your bag. 

Retrieving the knock scroll, Gale scribed for you. Repeating the steps he told you to do, you mumbled the incantation, and soon enough, what was once a solid brick wall cracked open to reveal a hidden path.

"Told you I knew where I was going," you boast, sticking your tongue out childishly.

Astarion smirks, "Yes, a broken clock is right twice a day."

Scoffing, you shove him hard, causing him to take a few steps to correct his footing. The entrance leads to a broken-down ladder and a worn wooden hatch. Astarion steps up to pick the lock and lifts the hatch barely to survey the room. He pushes the trapdoor open and enters.

Following suit, you find yourself in a dusty broom closet. Astarion is already at the door to the hallway, a sliver of light pouring through the crack. Closing the trapdoor, you cross your arms and wait for Astarion to turn back to you. 

"It's abandoned."

"Are you sure?"

Scoffing, Astarion doesn't answer. He pushes the door open and begins down the hall. You follow after him.

The small hideout is plainly decorated, the common room has a dingy sofa and a coffee table. The fireplace is dead; not even embers remain. Good. In the corner, there looks to be an unfinished game of cards. The faded carpet runner leads down the hall to a large ornate door. 

Astarion is already opening the door by the time you reach him. By the looks of it, this is the boss's office. A large oak desk sat in the middle room. A plush chair pulled slightly away as if someone hadn't bothered to move it back. Bookshelves line the back wall. 

"Secure the door," you say as you move to the window to the left of the door. You hear Astarion mumble something but don't quite catch his words. 

The window is a short drop good for a quick escape if needed. 

You move to the desk and begin rifling through the papers on the desk. Tax documents, random notes, crappy doodles, and a cringey love letter, but not what you're looking for. You rip open the first drawer. Nothing. Second drawer. Nothing. Third, nothing. 

"Astarion, did you find anything?"

"Nothing important." His sultry voice is deep and so very close to your ear.  

Your heart drops, but you suppress any other signs of distress, knowing that is exactly what he's looking for. Sighing In annoyance, you turn around to face Astarion and cross your arms over your chest.

"Are you even trying to look for the damn paper? We need to get what we're here for and get the fuck out!"

Astarion's mouth cracks into a cheeky grin, and he closes in on you. You back against the desk instinctually, reaching a hand up that lands on his firm chest. Astarion has you caged against the desk, each hand on either side of your hips. You know Astarion can hear the thrumming of your heart and the shaky inhalation of your breath, and you curse your body for betraying you.

He bends his head down to press his mouth against your ear. "What if I'm looking for something else?"

You freeze. What did he mea–

The thought is forgotten because he's slamming his lips onto yours. You gasp in surprise, and Astarion wastes no time, delving his tongue into your mouth and claiming it as his. 

The slight metallic taste of blood that lingers on his tongue should repulse you but has you moaning desperately for more. You grip your fist tightly into the fabric of Astarion's armor. His body is flush against yours, but you need more. You scratch your nails up his neck and tangle your fingers into his hair. Astarion groans into your mouth, biting at your bottom lip.

Everything is hazy, and you're lost in the kiss. Your thoughts are slow to catch up with the situation, too consumed by the taste of his lips. Astarion's lips. Astarion.

You push him away, chest heaving in rapid breaths. "What are you doing?" 

"I'd hope my intentions would be obvious by now." He grins and dives back to kiss down your neck, dragging his teeth against your skin. "I could be more obvious if that would clear things up." 

A sharp bite of his mouth at your throat drags a choked gargle from your swollen lips. You feel dizzy from the scent of rosemary and bergamot invading your nose. Lightheaded from the sudden turn of events. Astarion presses a knee between your legs, applying firm pressure against your burning arousal. 

Gods, what was he doing to you?

Needing to gain any form of control, you tug sharply at the roots of his silver curls, drawing a hiss from the man. 

You finally manage to gasp out, "We hate each other." As if that would somehow clear up your raging thoughts.

Except, could you hate someone who is making you feel so good? 

Cold fingers trail against the skin between your leather armor and trousers. Astarion's deft hands start pulling at the lace of your pants. Another wave of arousal warms your body, and you feel drunk on the pale elf.

"You say that, yet I don't think you want me to stop." He purrs, halting his movements, and meets your eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head, desperate for more. Your dignity couldn't live with letting Astarion reduce you to a begging mess. However, if you were honest with yourself, you're already halfway there. Reaching out, you grab for his belt.

Astarion was having none of that. He's quick to twirl you around and press your torso flush against the top of the desk. A stack of paper flies off and scatters to the ground, but neither of you put much care into it. Astarion grinds his front roughly against your ass, and you moan at the feeling of his hardening cock against you.

"No, no, no, my dear, use your words."

"Gods, are you always so fucking annoying?" You whine pressing back and rolling your ass against him. Astarion grunts, gripping your hips tightly. "Are you going to fuck me, or should I just take care of myself?"

Astarion groans, rocking against each roll of your hips. "There's my spitfire." 

"I'm not yours."

Astarion tugs at your pants and underwear, pulling them over your rear and letting them pool around your ankles. You kick off your boots and free yourself, leaving your lower half bare to the open air. A shiver rushes up your spine as the cold air hits your dripping heat. 

Astarion's slim fingers trail down your folds, and you bite your lips to stifle a cry. Tilting your head back, you see the rogue admiring the slick coating his fingers. 

"You might not be mine, darling." Astarion slips his drenched fingers into his mouth, and you watch, mouth agape, as he swirls his tongue to clean each digit. "But who else has seen you bent over a desk looking as desperate and delicious as you do now?"

"I could name a few," you say cheekily, earning you a smack on the flesh of your backside. 

Astarion gropes the reddened skin and bends down, blanketing you with his body. You feel the soft pants of his breath cascade over your neck as Astarion brings his lips to your ear.

"Then it seems I'm just going to have to ruin you for anyone else." Astarion practically growls and licks along the shell of your ear before taking the lobe in between his mouth and teasing it with his teeth. You don't recall hearing Astarion unclasp his belt, but when you feel his bare cock rub against your back, all you can do is arch your back and moan.

"Astarion," you part your legs more in silent invitation.

"Yes, my dear," His voice is smug as he rocks against you. He knows what you want but wants to hear you say it. 

The head of his cock parts your folds and moves to tease your desperate clit; a collective moan fills the room, but it is not enough for either of you. And knowing that the two of you are currently in the middle of dangerous territory means there is no time to play. 

"Stop being a prick and fuck me."

"Have I ever told you, you always have such a way with words." Astarion chuckles before plunging deep into your cunt.

A shaky cry leaves your lips, all air seemingly ripped from your lungs. Astarion is bigger than most men you've slept with prior - though you wouldn't dare voice that out loud in case it inflates his already-inflated ego. The stretch holds a delicious sting, and you feel the beginning of the burn of tears at the corner of your eyes. 

Astarion's still his hips for a moment, letting you collect yourself. His thumbs are rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back and peppering kisses across your neck. Once the sting of his initial entrance simmers to a stirring heat, you tell him to move.

"Hells you're so tight." Astarion groans as he sets a teasing pace, dragging the rugged ridges of his cock out before plunging back in at the same agonizing pace. 

A pace you could imagine sharing intimately with Astarion all night somewhere secluded. Perhaps your tent or an isolated clearing, not a random gang's currently empty hideout. And since you're not one to play nice, you decide to play with fire instead.

Pushing up on your elbows, you move your head to look back at Astarion, a playful smirk on your lips. "You say you're going to ruin me, but I think Gale could be doing a better job of it right now."

Astarion's body freezes just as you hoped he would react. He shoots you a look full of daggers and bares his teeth in annoyance. Without comprehending entirely what's happening, Astarion pulls out of you and, with a strength you have not seen from the Vampire (the same Vampire who asks others on multiple occasions to carry his pack because it's too heavy), flips you over and has you seated firmly back on the desk leaving you dizzy but feeling giddy as a schoolgirl. 

"Oh darling, you're going to regret that."

Astarion rams back into your pussy and begins to thrust quick and brutally deep into your body. His cold hand is wrapped around your throat, holding it firmly enough to keep your eyes locked onto him. 

Your legs link around his lean hips, pulling him deeper into you. Moaning desperately, you run one of your hands up under his leather armor, splaying it across his stomach. You grab his face and pull him into a kiss, all tongue and teeth and perfection.

 The desk is groaning under the movement of your bodies. Random knick-knacks are clanging to the floor. A bottle of whiskey shatters, and the pungent aroma wafts into the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and slick. 

"You and that mouth of yours." He breathes deep into your ear. "Always so confident, so snarky, so bratty." 

"M-more…" you choke, clenching around his length, desperate for anything and everything he will give you.

"Do you think the wizard could handle you?" The hand not firmly holding your neck snakes between your legs and begins to play with your clit.

"Gods A-star.." You gasp, eyes rolling back.

"Could he or anyone else make you feel this good?" Astarion's hand tightens slightly against your neck, and the lack of oxygen leaves you feeling dizzy and euphoric. 

"N-no…please." 

"After me, no one will ever be able to satisfy you." His thumb is now rubbing fast, tight circles against your clit. "Fuck, that's it, squeeze me just like that."

Gripping onto the desk, you shift your hips, and Astarion is now hitting deeper into your abused cunt. You tighten your legs around his waist, urging him to go faster. That delicious coil is beginning to burn deep in your stomach, and you know you won't last much longer. 

"Tell me, who's making you feel this good," Astarion demands, voice husky. 

"Y-you," 

"And when you come on my cock, I want you to scream my name." He grunts, and the thrust of his hips is beginning to become sloppier. "I want to hear just how good I make you feel."

Everything is too much. Astarion's sinful words, the harsh thrust of his hips combined with the tight circles of his thumb on your clit, the musky smell of Astarion's sweat mingling with yours, and the intense fragrance of the spilled whiskey. 

You don't remember the details, just the wave of euphoria as the coil snaps and your orgasm washes over you. The words that spill from your lips hold no meaning in your clouded mind. The only thing that holds context is the feeling of Astarion stuttering thrusts of his hips as he chases his release from your spent body. 

And when he stills, and the world falls silent apart for your combined pants of breath, all you do is brush the curls off his forehead and kiss his cheek. Why? You're not sure, but that's something you'll ask yourself later. 

Once you return to relatively normal breathing, Astarion moves from his slumped position against your body. He stares at you in astonishment.

"Well, that happened." You offer because what else were you supposed to say?

Astarion breaks out into a genuine laugh, full belly and joyful as he tucks himself away. You couldn't help but join in as you move to put your clothes on.

"Yes, my sweet, I suppose that did happen."

"So where-"

The two of you jump at a commotion coming from the hall. Someone is jingling the doorknob, trying to open it; when it doesn't budge, there is a loud bang followed by an even louder shout of anger.

"Fuck!" You quickly finish tying your boots and collect your gear.

"Seems like our friends are back from their trip. I believe it's time to go." Astarion says as he moves to the window and opens it. Without waiting for you to respond, he gives you a devilish smirk and jumps out.

"Shit, the paper." You sigh, knowing you'll never hear the end of it. 

By the time you make it to the window, the door is being busted in, and a very angry-looking dwarf is storming into the room. You smile at him and give him a salute before diving out the window, knowing Astarion will be there to catch you.

***Later at camp***

"What do you mean you didn't get the document?" Gale yells, the others equally baffled by you and Astarion's failure. "That was the only thing you needed to get!"

You shrink in on yourself looking to Astarion for help. "I...I don"

Astarion rolls his eyes. "Stealing objects from heavily populated hideouts is harder than you might think, wizard." 

"That's why we sent you two!"

"Then perhaps next time-"

"HOLY SHIT!" Karlach interrupts, drawing everyone's attention. She's pointing straight at you with a look of bafflement. "Soldier's got a fucking hickey."

You clamp a hand over the spot Astarion was biting at earlier, wishing for the ground to swallow you whole.

Shadowheart's face scrunches up in disgust. "Please don't tell me, we're not getting paid because you two idiots decided to fuck?"

"Darling, it would seem the cat's out of the bag." The bastard has the audacity to look proud.

"I hate you all." You groan and storm off to your tent, contemplating just how bad it would be to join the Absolute.

Feedback always makes my day so let me know what you guys thought. And if you're looking for something sweet to balance out the spice check out my last post right here.

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[tayasui-mono]

Hannibal and Will's first conversation is interesting because Will is defensive. I mean, Will is defensive towards everybody, but this time he finds someone who is as unrelenting as himself. We start with "Do you have trouble with taste?" And "My thoughts are often not tasty." This can be a lot of things; I personally see it as Will asserting his job (and hiding behind his job i.e. he's taking away the personal touch of "tasteless" which started this whole thing) and also as a joke because of how it's worded. Then we get into the meat of it: "Nor mine. No effective barriers." Hannibal implies he is the same as Will; his thoughts aren't tasteful (given that he's a therapist), and those thoughts bleed into other normal, day-to-day thoughts. This can or can't be true. We don't know. But for sure he is prodding at Will with a stick, and Will retaliates. "Well, I build forts." Basically saying, 'I don't have that issue because I can segregate my thoughts well'—forts are stone and concrete; hard to conquer, so he's presenting this image of 'I've got a concrete mind and I'm organized'. Hannibal challenges this, "Associations come quickly." I like to think it's because Will's mind works so fluidly and quickly, it's natural for him to not actively think about things; they just come to him. Hannibal is saying, 'When do you get the time to build forts when the associations are quicker?' and Will, sore loser, goes, "So do forts." That is, 'I'm so good at having a mind, I've got everything under control and you don't even know' which is a pompous lie of course. Finally we reach the breaking point, "No forts in the bone arena of your skull for the things you love." Which is the equivalent of saying 'Hey I saw you stealing your neighbour's underwear' because Hannibal's got him. And the way he says it too. Agreeing with Will in his metaphor of forts being concrete; associating it with the skull (which is, of course, made of bone and is hard and grey like concrete) but saying that is the only thing concrete in your head. No forts. Just rivers of thoughts flowing into the ocean where they all mix without individuality. Will can't protect his precious things from the violent things he sees, they all mingle together. He looks at clear water and sees red. He sleeps in his own bed next to dead bodies. And it's like Hannibal has stripped Will of his face and flesh and shone a flashlight right into the back of his skull through his empty eyesockets going "Hm. Interesting." And that's why Will gets so pissed and leaves.

[tealvenetianmask]

Thoughts about Striker being a "supremacist:"

On the surface, he's sort of a social class activist/ Robin Hood archetype. I think he truly thinks of himself this way. But when Blitz calls him a supremacist, who's he a supremacist against exactly? It's imps. This guy hates imps (and also identifies as one, even though he's clearly some sort of hybrid, which is interesting).

Let me show you what I mean. The short version is that he's the self-hating minority bigot trope, and it's executed really well.

"Blue Bloods"

"Disgusting, rich, pompous goetia"

"Some of us have everything we care about taken away by fuckers like you."

"You don't get to talk over me. . . all you ever do is try to talk over us."

"Once I split your neck open and let you choke on your own blue blood, you won't be worth any more than the tomb stone you'll be buried under."

So . . . first, he doesn't actually say a lot that's solely about royals, and ALL of the quotes above are about how royals look down on people like him, NOT about any inherent flaws that they have. They're about class, not race, unless you count "blue blood" as race. I don't. It's tied directly to money. "Disgusting" comes up in reference to Blitz's relationship with Stolas, but the words "rich" and "pompous" follow immediately. Striker hates royals because he hates that society places them above him.

Imps

"Pathetic."

"You little things aint worth the cleanup."

"Oh I remember how easy you are to choke the life out of, little one."

"Blitz, come on. You know the two of us are superior to most of our kind."

"I still think it's embarrassing. You're wasting a lot of potential relying on a weak little . . ."

"Vermin"

I think that this is where Striker's worldview comes into clearer focus. He thinks that Moxxie and Millie (and by extension MOST imps) are inferior to him. The word "vermin" is particularly telling. There's something visceral about his disgust for "lesser" imps.

I think Striker worries that they reflect who he really is. I think he truly believes that imps are inferior to higher class demons, and he fears that if he doesn't prove himself to be special (through violent dominance), he's vermin himself.

Notice how in the image below, his edge over Moxxie is all about size and physical strength- the things he implies throughout the episode make him the superior being. Look at that wide smile. He loves the feeling of being superior.

Relationships between imps and royals

"You are so above sucking on a disgusting rich pompous goetia . . ."

"kill the unkillable . . . starting with the one that treats you like a plaything."

"Blitzy"

"You two are both embarrassments to our kind for meddlin' with blue bloods to begin with. But at least loud mouth here has the sense to only fuck his rich bitch, instead of being a little purse dog."

"This worthless little pet reeks of his over bloated master. I'll at least enjoy getting rid of him."

Striker clearly sees these relationships as imps lowering themselves. It doesn't seem to occur to him even for a moment that these relationships might involve genuine care because he sees all interactions between social classes as being about power and "who wins."

Notice that despite in theory caring about the power dynamics, Striker puts most of his shaming language on the imps in the relationships, and uses demeaning language to do it- "embarrassments, purse dog, little pet," as if they're at fault (for being used, in his view . . .?) and should be ashamed.

I thought about delving more into why Striker sees Blitz as closer to his own level, and I think it comes down to the things he values (physical strength, willingness to kill, detachment/independence), which are not the things that we the audience end up liking the most about Blitz. He misses the point of what actually makes our boy great, basically. 😍

I've spent a lot of time reading and watching videos about real life white supremacists because I like to be miserable, and . . . yeah, this character really shares their view that some people are inferior to others, and that the traits that make them inferior are inherent and immutable. The people he hates just aren't the ones he'd have us believe he hates.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY JASON TODD/ROBIN/RED HOOD *  assorted dialogue from multiple dc universe sources, adjust as necessary

i did it once for dramatic effect and it just got to be a habit.

you can't tell, but i'm dozing off under this mask.

a whole night in paris... and i managed to not kill anyone. not bad.

you made the same mistake everyone does when it comes to me.

i want to warn them... but i know i can't.

don't know, don't care. i got my hands full.

do you remember the last time we were together?

looks like you guys could use a hand!

i'm looking for someone.

i'm afraid it's about to get much worse.

the angry, reckless vigilante bit is my thing.

i'm not good or bad. i'm just practical as hell.

you and i are more alike than you realize.

i get it. starting over is scary as hell.

i don't even need to turn around to know that's you.

thanks for thinking of me. i'm happy to help. honored, even.

i generally have several madness-inducing hallucinations before breakfast.

nothing in the real world can be as frightening as what we can imagine... right?

you don't think i understand what it's like to be abandoned? forgotten?

i'll be damed if my best friend is going to die... because he was dumb enough to trust me.

i'm sorry. i'm never going to be the hero you want me to be.

next time i see you, i'm going to kick your butt for this dying crap.

you have ten seconds to walk way. nine... oh, screw it.

there are better ways to spend your energy.

that looks like it's gotta hurt. well, i say that like i'm speculating or something. i know it hurts.

we chose to be a family.

if there's hope for us... there's hope for everyone.

you still haven't figured it out?

life's just a game... and this time, you lose.

i seem to have made myself an enemy of all the bad guys.

it's too late. you had your chance.

i'm just getting started.

hard to forget that night, huh?

in a way, this was the site of your first great failure.

ah... memories.

you can't stop crime. that's what you never understood.

you want to rule them by fear, but what do you do to those who aren't afraid?

i'm doing what you won't.

i'm taking them out.

now tell me... how does it feel?

is that what you think this is about?

i don't know what clouds your judgement worse. your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality.

i forgive you for not saving me.

he took me away from you.

i am no one's son.

what do you think this was all about?

welcome to planet earth, baby.

fear isn't the answer.

you son of a bitch.

we were friends, helping each other pick up the pieces of our lives.

it might not be a popular thought, but not everyone wants to be alive.

can you hear it?

funny, i actually escaped death.

the past keeps dragging me back.

they're not monsters. they're victims of programming, abuse, and trauma.

they can change.

fact is, they're just like us.

we became something else.

you hurt a lot of people.

we don't discriminate here.

sometimes you don't know what you want 'til you learn what you don't.

trust? you? i'll give it a try. but i'll tell you right now, i'm probably going to screw it up.

guys like us? the life we lead? we're never truly alone.

i have no idea who you people are.

you pompous ass.

before i kill you, i want the truth.

i'd like to think i'm an open-minded guy.

sure it was fun. but does that mean it was right?

sometimes i wonder if i'm just part of the problem.

i'm not doing one more damn mission with them unless you get me someone i can trust to watch my back.

knew you couldn't do it.

it's official. class is in session.

[8dayrain]

can you tell who my favorite character is......

below my opinions on the localization names as a pre-localization fan (i promise i won't be too mean teehee)

justine courtney -> verity gavelle: justine courtney is so iconic but verity gavelle is also very nice... one of the better localization names for sure. shes hot and awesome either way and that's all that really matters

i didn't draw him in this but raymond shields -> eddie fender: i've seen a bit of criticism for this one but honestly? another solid localization. raymond shields is fun but eddie fender is perfectly fine too imo

sebastian debeste -> eustace winner: ....look. he will always be sebastian debeste to me. i AM willing to adopt the hc that eustace is his middle name to honor the localization, and also because blaise/excelsius would absolutely name his son that. but i will not be calling him that. sorry eustace truthers, this is a hill i'll proudly die on

blaise debeste -> excelsius winner: honestly excelsius fits him i dont have a problem with that. it's pompous and obnoxious like him and the celsius pun is fun. i made his name for the drawing here excelsius b. (for blaise) debeste bc it sounds like "excelsius be the best" hehe

when it comes to their new surname... debeste was always going to be incredibly hard to beat, it's just too good (the best, if you will.....). but even then, winner is just boring sorry. at least spell it differently or smth :/ make it more silly, this is ace attorney!!

anyway enough of my rambling. i love this game and i'm glad it's getting more attention now bc of the localization, even if i personally don't like all of the new names lol

[wholoveseggs]

Heyy gorgeous! I’m here once again lol. I was thinking about enemies to lovers this time. Elijah and reader despise each other. She’s always getting on his nerves and he’s always making her embarrassed etc etc. She’s also misbehaving - like interrupting him mid sentence, being sassy and he’s just trying to hold it together. One day they get into a fight or they have to train together (like he did with Gia in s.2) and there’s just too much sexual tension between them. Some angry sex and so on…? Thank youuu🥰

Misbehavior

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah Mikaelson is controlling, arrogant and absolutely infuriating, you don't know how anybody can stand him. That is... until he gets you in his bed.

♡♡ Thanks for the request lovely @msveronicag ! I love this idea so much and I got a little carried away with it ♡♡

8.2k words - Warnings: smut, dom!elijah, blowjobs, choking, spanking, rough sex, tinsy bit of ass play, Elijah being a smug little control freak...

You were back in New Orleans, visiting your old friend Marcel. He turned you nearly fifty years ago and he had always been a mentor figure for you. You left the city to go travel the world and discovered everything it had to offer. But you always remembered your roots, and Marcel was still the man you looked up to the most. So, when he called, asking if you wanted to come help him keep the peace and order in the city, you were happy to agree.

You knew the Originals had arrived in town and you were interested in meeting them. They were an endlessly fascinating bunch of lunatics from what you heard, and you couldn't wait to meet them.

But when you finally got the chance, you were surprised by a few things, number one, they were all ridiculously hot.

And number two, you instantly hated Elijah Mikaelson.

He was just so arrogant and stuck up. His constant use of posh words annoyed you to no end, and his perfect hair was just begging to be ruffled.

He just strolled into Marcel's loft one day and started giving orders. Talking to Marcel in a way that immediately pissed you off. You didn't like to hear your friend being talked to like he was beneath anyone, and so you spoke up.

"Excuse me," You drawled lazily, looking up from where you were perched on Marcel's couch. "Just because you're some original pain in the ass doesn't mean you get to control everything."

Elijah was clearly used to being obeyed. He slowly turned to you, regarding you with that arrogant sneer you came to detest in just a matter of minutes. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes unflinchingly.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, looking at you as if he could barely see you.

You hated when someone pretended not to hear or understand something. Especially when they understood perfectly well, but were hoping for you to be scared into backing down. Well, that wasn't happening.

"If you didn't understand, I'll repeat it in simple terms that even your elderly ears will comprehend," You snapped at him, standing up to meet his eyes more equally. "Be. Nice."

He gave you a slow, crooked smile that didn't reach his eyes, then he looked back to Marcel with his eyebrows raised. "Are you going to control your little pet?"

You saw red, and opened your mouth to respond, but Marcel gave you a look that screamed 'don't', so you kept quiet, glaring at Elijah.

You couldn't stand the man, the way he would always be wearing a suit, his perfectly styled hair, and those dark, judgmental eyes that seemed to always be on you, looking down at you.

He was just one of those rich assholes who saw a regular person like you as something lesser, and you weren't going to let him walk over you. You'd think after living for one thousand years he would have gained some insight on human behavior, but no, he was just an old, pompous jerk.

You weren't sure what the hell Elijah and his siblings had done to Marcel to make him act the way he did around the Mikaelsons. But he was different around them. More obedient and less himself. You didn't like how the Originals acted like they owned the city.

Regardless, you weren't stupid enough to make enemies out of them. They were valuable allies, so you kept quiet for the most part, and just rolled your eyes and sighed whenever Elijah would open his arrogant mouth.

Marcel needed you to help train some new vampires that had turned recently. You would have them do drills and spar. Things were going well, the new recruits acclimating well to their new state of being.

When you saw Elijah and Marcel enter the room, you immediately felt defensive, you knew that prick was going to say something.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him, his presence putting everyone on edge.

"Keep training," You said, gesturing for them to keep practicing. They were hesitant at first, but did as you instructed.

You walked towards Elijah and Marcel, trying to get the man to leave before he said something wrong and ruined their progress. You stood between the two men and looked up at Elijah with a forced, tight smile.

"Is there something you need? I'm a little busy here." You told him.

He raised his eyebrows at your tone, looking at you as if he was studying you, his eyes moving from the top of your head to your feet, and it felt like he was stripping you naked. He glanced around the room at the others with an amused smirk, and it irked you to no end. He turned his eyes back to you, tilting his head.

"They're not doing very well, are they?" He said, looking down at the trainees.

One of the vampires completely missed their punch and fell over, they were still adjusting to how strong they had become.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. "They're new, they're not perfect yet. And you're not helping, your presence is distracting them." You told him. You weren't about to admit he was right. You weren't going to give him that satisfaction.

“They need a proper example on how to fight,” He smirked and looked at Marcel. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order."

Marcel nodded, then stepped forward. "Come on, I'll show them." He said.

But Elijah shook his head, holding his hand up. "I'm not talking about you."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "I'm not sparring with you, Elijah. You're too powerful." You told him.

You weren't scared, you knew you could handle yourself. But, he was an original, and you were just a vampire. He would win, easily. And you had no interest in being humiliated by him.

"It's just a friendly match, it doesn't have to be a contest," He said, and you didn't believe him for a second. "Unless you're afraid of getting hurt." He taunted.

You could tell he was enjoying this, he had a small smile on his face, his eyes shining with amusement. He knew you couldn't back down. If you did, he'd call you weak, and a coward. That's just the kind of guy he was.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, getting into a defensive position.

"Ready?" He asked, and you nodded.

Before you could even react, he punched you, and you went flying across the room, landing on your side, and you heard him chuckle. "This is who you got to train your recruits Marcellus?"

You growled and stood, launching yourself at him, and he dodged your hits easily. He grabbed you and twisted your arm, holding it behind your back, and you hissed at the pain. He pulled you closer, and his lips were next to your ear. "Yield."

"Never," You snarled, and he laughed.

"So, prideful, but I can break your arm and force you to yield." He said, twisting your arm more.

"C'mon Elijah, let her go," Marcel said, and Elijah smirked.

"As you wish," Elijah said, releasing your arm, and you turned to face him, glaring. "I thought you were stronger than that, but I was clearly mistaken."

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that hurt.

"I think that's enough for today," Marcel said to the vampires, and they all filed out, leaving the three of you alone.

"I don't know why you insist on acting the way you do," Elijah said, shaking his head. "It's quite unbecoming."

You raised your eyebrows. "Oh yeah, and how exactly do I act?" You challenged.

"Childish and impulsive." He answered, and you scoffed. "You need to learn some manners." He added.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. He was insulting you, and talking down to you, and it just pissed you off even more.

"Enough, both of you," Marcel said, getting in between the two of you. "You're both acting like children."

"Maybe because I'm dealing with a child," You muttered under your breath, and Marcel gave you a stern look.

"She's disrespectful, and ungrateful," Elijah said. "Perhaps I should teach her a lesson in obedience." He threatened, his eyes flashing darkly.

"No one needs to be taught a lesson in anything," Marcel said, looking pointedly at you. "Just. Stop." He sighed. "Both of you, just stop. I have a headache, and you two arguing isn't helping."

You glared at Elijah, and he glared back, but neither of you said anything. Marcel let out a long sigh and walked away, his fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose. "I need a drink," He muttered.

You watched him go, feeling a little guilty for upsetting him. He had a lot on his mind and he needed your help, not your petty arguments with Elijah.

"He's right, you know," Elijah said, and you turned your glare on him.

"You think I'm the problem? You're the one who antagonizes me, and talks down to everyone. What's your deal, anyways?" You asked, crossing your arms.

His lips turned up into a smug smile, "I'm not trying to upset you. I'm simply stating the truth."

"I don't like you." You said, shaking your head.

"The feeling is mutual," He said, and you raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell did I ever do to you?" You asked, and he laughed, moving closer to you.

"You constantly have your mouth open, yet nothing of substance comes out. You look down on me, despite knowing nothing of my past, and you think I owe you something. Your insolence is tiresome, and I'm sick of seeing your face." He said, his eyes boring into yours, and his gaze was so intense it was hard to maintain eye contact.

He was so close to you now, and his eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up. "Your mere presence is distracting."

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart hammering in your chest. You were angry, but you also wanted him. You hated that, but it was a truth you were having a hard time denying. You couldn't stop your eyes from moving over his body, and the way his stupid suit fit him so well, showing off his body.

"Well I think you are a self-righteous prick who can't accept the fact that people are allowed to have opinions that differ from yours. Just because you've lived for a millennia doesn't mean your opinion is more valuable than mine." You said, your eyes going to his lips, then back up. "You need to chill the fuck out and not take yourself so seriously. We aren't all your fucking minions. We don't all bow down and worship you."

He leaned in and his breath was fanning over your face. "You have got me all wrong."

"I don't think I do," You said, tilting your head up. "And you don't scare me."

His lips curved into a smirk and his eyes looked down at your lips, his hands coming up and gripping your waist.

And then he was kissing you.

His lips moved slowly over yours, and his hand cupped your jaw. He kissed you with such tenderness and care that you didn't know how to react. You didn't know if he was just using this as a way to humiliate you, but you were too far gone, and you kissed him back.

You knew it was a bad idea, but you couldn't stop yourself, and you didn't care anymore. He pulled you closer and his tongue swiped at your lower lip, and you let him in, moaning softly as his tongue moved over yours. He was an excellent kisser, and it annoyed you as much as it turned you on.

He pulled back, a smug smile on his face, "that's what I thought."

You blushed and looked away, your head spinning from the kiss. "Asshole."

He laughed and stepped away from you, adjusting his tie, "You're welcome."

You were so annoyed and flustered, and you glared at him. "Fuck off."

He chuckled and left, leaving you standing there, confused and aroused.

He was infuriating.

You had decided to leave New Orleans. You hated that Elijah was getting to you, and you didn't want to risk him using your feelings against you. You knew it was a mistake, he was messing with you in ways you didn't even think possible. You knew about his reputation of being manipulative and cruel, and you weren't going to get sucked into his game.

You had everything ready to go, you just had to tell Marcel. He would understand, although you weren't going to tell him about Elijah kissing you. That was just embarrassing.

But when you got to his loft, the only person there was Elijah. Sitting on the sofa, reading a book. He looked so good he was practically glowing, and you wanted to punch him for it.

He didn't look up from his book, "Marcel is out."

"I'll come back later," You said, turning, but he was in front of you, blocking the exit.

"We need to have a little chat," He said, looking down at you, and you sighed, crossing your arms.

"About what?" You asked, tapping your foot anxiously and looking at the door, wishing you could escape.

"Why are you avoiding me?" He asked, and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"I'm not avoiding you, I have better things to do than waste my time with an arrogant prick," You said, and he narrowed his eyes at you.

"That's not true," He said, taking a step closer, and you took a step back, not liking the intensity of his gaze.

"Yes, it is." You said, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Why did you come here?" He asked, moving closer again, and you walked backwards until your back hit the wall, and he was caging you in.

"To tell Marcel I am leaving." You said, and he cocked his head.

"Where are you going?" He asked, and you frowned.

"Away."

"Why?" He asked, leaning forward, his face inches from yours.

"Fuck off." You said, exasperated by his line of questioning, it was none of his business.

His eyes flashed dangerously and he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head, holding them tightly.

"You are not as smart as you think you are," he growled, his lips inches away from yours.

You could feel his arousal pressing against your stomach, his hips pushing into yours.

"Neither are you," you snarled, trying to get out of his grip.

But he held your wrists tightly and leaned down, his teeth scraping against your neck.

"You talk so much, yap, yap, yap. But you never say anything meaningful," he whispered, his breath hot on your ear, "perhaps I should put your mouth to better use."

Your heart was beating frantically and your pussy was soaked. The tension between the two of you was finally breaking and the hatred was dissolving into something else entirely.

"I'd love to see you tr-"

His mouth was on yours before you could finish your sentence. It was rough and needy, his fangs digging into your lip, and his hands still pinning your wrists above your head.

His knee moved between your thighs and you moaned, rubbing yourself on his leg.

Elijah chuckled darkly, his tongue tracing the wound he'd made.

"How pathetic," he murmured, his hips rolling forward, his hard cock pressing against your core.

"So is your dick," you lied, trying not to gasp at the sensation, it definitely didn’t feel pathetic.

His fingers dug into your wrists, his eyes flashing with amusement and arousal. His free hand slipped underneath your dress, stroking your wet pussy.

"And yet here you are, dripping wet, and ready for me," he smirked, his fingers slowly circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. "Wearing a cheap, skimpy dress, practically begging me to fuck you,"

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," you groaned, your hips moving in rhythm with his hand.

He slid his middle finger inside your cunt, pumping it in and out, his palm grinding against your clit.

"Oh so, this is all just a figment of my imagination, is it?" He asked, adding another finger.

Your legs were shaking, and your breathing was heavy. You couldn't think straight, his fingers were hitting all the right spots.

"Fuck," you moaned, your back arching.

He kissed you hungrily, his tongue dominating your mouth, and his fingers pumping faster.

"Cum for me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your neck.

"No," you moaned, but your hips were moving on their own, seeking release.

"I wasn't asking, darling," he growled, his eyes meeting yours, compelling you, "Cum."

His voice echoed in your head, and you could feel the wave of pleasure wash over you. Your orgasm ripped through you, his fingers still moving inside you, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

You were trembling, your legs barely holding you up, and your brain fuzzy.

He let go of your wrists, and pulled his fingers out of you, before licking them clean. He took a step back, smiling at the look on your face as he adjusted his cufflinks.

"Now, on your knees," he commanded.

Your legs obeyed immediately, sinking down and looking up at him.

"What a lovely sight," he said, smirking.

He cupped your chin, running his thumb over your lips.

"I've been imagining your lips around my cock, since the first day I saw you," he said, unbuckling his belt, giving your cheek a little slap.

"Now open up and take it all,"

You opened your mouth and he shoved his cock inside. He was big, bigger than anyone you had ever sucked off. And he wasn't shy about using his power to keep you in place. His hands were tangled in your hair, tugging and pulling, and his cock was hitting the back of your throat.

Your eyes were watering, but he didn't care, he kept going, using your mouth, making you gag. He felt amazing on your tongue, hot and hard, and the taste of him was driving you crazy. You could feel yourself getting wetter, the more he fucked your mouth, and your hips were rocking, desperate for friction.

"Look at you, taking it so well, such a good girl," he praised, his thrusts becoming deeper, and his voice sounding strained.

Your eyes met his, your mascara running down your cheeks. He looked so good, his lips parted and his eyes glazed with lust. His dominating nature was intoxicating, and you were drunk on his cock. The feeling of him sliding down your throat, and his moans of pleasure, made you feel so good, it was addictive. Your hand slipped between your thighs, rubbing your clit, and making yourself moan around his cock.

He slapped your face gently, tutting.

"Naughty girl," he said, his voice a low rumble, "keep touching yourself, and I'll punish you."

You looked up at him, and rubbed yourself faster, daring him to stop you.

His eyes darkened, and he pushed himself deep inside your mouth, his cock pulsing as he cummed down your throat.

"Swallow it," he ordered, and you did, licking his cock clean.

You were a mess, your makeup smeared, and your body trembling with need. You wanted to be fucked. So. Badly.

Elijah looked at you, a smirk playing on his lips. He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you to your feet, his eyes roaming over your body.

"Such a pretty thing," he said, pushing you back against the wall, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin of your neck, "I knew you could behave."

He pulled his handkerchief out and wiped the tears and mascara from your face, before putting it away.

"There we are," he smiled, tucking his cock back into his pants, and buckling his belt.

"Are you not going to fuck me?" You asked, frustrated that he was leaving you unsatisfied.

"Oh no, my dear, that's your punishment," he said, grabbing a bottle of scotch and pouring a glass. He glanced up at you, seemingly confused on why you were still standing there, and nodded towards the door.

"You may go,"

You huffed, and walked towards the door, feeling angry and humiliated. But his voice stopped you.

"Oh, and darling?"

You turned and saw him grinning at you.

"Don't think I'm done with you,"

You were definitely leaving now, you had to. You couldn't stand another moment in New Orleans. The way Elijah had used you and humiliated you. You couldn't handle it, you had to get away. You needed to be as far away from him as possible.

But Marcel insisted that you come to a party he was hosting, it was a goodbye celebration for you. And you didn't want to let him down, he was one of the few friends you had.

You were packing your things, planning on leaving immediately after the party, when you heard a knock on your door.

You opened it to find a large box, wrapped in beautiful silver paper and tied with a blue ribbon. There was a card attached to it, and you picked it up, curious to know who it was from.

Wear this. I will be picking you up at 8 – E

You groaned, not wanting to see him. You had been doing your best to avoid him, and this was not helping.

The dress he had sent over was gorgeous, it was black and long, and the fabric was silky. The straps were thin and delicate, and the cut was low, and it was sexy, but not revealing. It was an expensive designer brand that was impossible to get, and the fact that he had somehow just had one that was your size pissed you off.

He was so smug and cocky, and the worst part was, he had great taste, and the dress was perfect. You didn't want to like anything about him, he was even good at being infuriating.

At exactly eight a car arrived to pick you up, and Elijah was in the backseat, waiting. He was dressed impeccably, and his eyes roamed over you, a smirk forming on his lips.

"You look stunning," he said, as you sat down, and the driver pulled away. "It's nice to see you in fine clothing."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the compliment, and staring out the window. His hand went to your thigh, pushing up the dress a little to reveal the top of the stockings you were wearing.

"Is this for me? How thoughtful."

You swatted his hand away, giving him a glare. "I don't dress for any man. I dress for myself,"

"Of course, I would expect nothing less from a strong independent woman," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, refusing to engage with him. He leaned over, his lips brushing your ear, and his fingers sliding over your thigh. "You do lots of other things for a man though, don't you?"

You bit your lip, the memory of being on your knees for him, and how good it felt to have him fuck your mouth, flooded your mind. You kept your composure, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"No," you said, glancing at him.

He chuckled and put his arm around you, his fingers dancing along your bare shoulders. You wanted to push him away, but the heat of his body was nice, and you didn't hate the way his touch made you feel.

"We shall see about that."

When you arrived at Marcel's party, you were greeted with cheers, the local vampires loved any excuse to celebrate.

Marcel gave you a hug and poured you a drink, "I'm going to miss having you around, but I understand."

You gave him a smile and took a sip of your drink. "I can never stay in one place for long,"

"I know, and that's what I admire about you," he said, before turning to a vampire who had come to talk to him.

You were standing alone, looking around at the crowd of people. Trying to avoid Elijah, but also keeping an eye out for him.

"Having a good time?"

His voice made you jump and you turned to find him standing behind you, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"It's alright," you shrugged, trying to act cool, and not like you had just been caught looking for him.

"You seem lonely," he said, leaning closer.

"I'm fine, thank you," you said, taking a step back, but his hand reached out, grabbing your arm, and pulling you against him.

"You keep lying, why is that?" He whispered, his breath warm on your ear.

You shook your head, your heart racing. You could feel his body pressed against yours, and his lips ghosting over your skin.

"Is it because you're attracted to me?" He asked, his tongue darting out and licking the shell of your ear.

"No," you said, but your voice was unsteady, and your breath caught.

"Oh, so you just suck any man's cock then? That's an interesting hobby."

You tried to move away, but his grip tightened, and he turned you to face him. His expression was teasing, but his eyes were dark and intense.

"I apologize, I'm not usually so crude. It's just that seeing you in this dress..," he trailed off, his eyes roaming over your curves, his voice thick with lust.

You blushed, your skin burning, and your pussy getting wet. He was so close, his hands sliding down your body, his touch setting your nerves alight.

"I don't like you," you said, but it sounded weak, and he grinned.

"I know," he murmured, his fingers finding their way under the hem of your dress, dancing along the bare skin above your stockings.

"So why are you letting me touch you?" He asked, his lips brushing against yours.

"Because you are irritatingly fucking hot," you admitted, your body melting into his, his closeness clouding your senses.

"Ah, and there is that honesty I have been searching for," he smirked, his hands gripping your ass.

"Shut up," you said, your eyes locked on his. "Why must you be so arrogant?"

"It's not arrogance, it's confidence. You should try it sometime."

He was smiling now, his eyes twinkling. He had truly pissed you off with his boundless ego and you were done with him. You gave him a little push and then stormed out the exit. Marcel would have to understand, you just had to leave this stupid city, right now.

Elijah followed you, grabbing your wrist, and pulling you into a side room, away from the noise and bustle of the party.

"Have I upset you?" He grinned, pressing you against the wall.

"Yes," you seethed, your jaw clenched, and your blood boiling. You pushed hard on his chest, but he didn't budge, just looked down at your hands with an amused expression.

"What can I do to make it better?" He asked, pressing his palms into the wall on both sides of your head.

"Fuck off."

His grin widened, and he leaned in, his nose nuzzling against yours.

"No," he said, his lips brushing over yours. "I don't think I will,"

Your eyes closed as his mouth captured yours. The kiss was soft and sweet, his lips moving slowly, exploring yours. It was intoxicating, his taste and scent overwhelming. You felt yourself giving in once again, kissing him back, your hands clutching his shirt, pulling him closer.

He hummed, pleased, and his hand slipped behind your head, angling your mouth for deeper access. He was such a control freak, and it only turned you on more.

"You like me," he stated between kisses, his hips rocking forward, his cock hard and straining against his pants.

"No I don't ," you lied, trying to ignore how good his body felt against yours, his lips trailing down your neck.

"And yet, here you are," he smirked, his fangs scraping along the skin, "ready and willing."

You moaned, tilting your head to the side, and allowing him better access. He ran his fangs along your pulse point, nipping at the skin.

"Tell me you don't want me, and I'll stop," he whispered, his hands pulling the straps of your dress down, his mouth trailing kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts.

"I don't," you moaned, even though you knew it wasn't true. You wanted him, desperately.

"Naughty little liar," he said in a teasing tone, his hands squeezing your breasts, and his thumbs rubbing over the hard peaks of your nipples. He was getting you so worked up, it was so infuriating and so arousing.

He suddenly stopped touching you, moving back and leaning against the wall across from you, acting like nothing happened, his hands clasped in front of him.

You looked at him, confused and turned on.

"What the fuck?"

"Tell me you want me," he said, his expression smug.

"I hate you," you replied, frustrated, scowling at him and trying to fix your dress.

"That's not an answer."

"I'm not going to beg for it," you snapped, annoyed and desperate. You hated that he had this effect on you. You wanted him so bad, but he was making you work for it, and the game was getting old. But there was a part of you that liked it, the way he was challenging you, the power play, it was hot. But he was pushing his luck. 

"I’m just going to go find someone else," you said, trying to sound cool and disinterested, but failing miserably. You were too flustered, your skin flushed, and your breath short. 

He laughed, shaking his head and holding out his hand, gesturing for you to take it. "I don't think so," he said, a smirk playing on his lips, "come here."

You looked at him, hesitating, but your desire won out, and you placed your hand in his.

He smirked, his fingers interlacing with yours, and he guided you upstairs. His pace was slow, leisurely, and it was maddening.

"I thought you lived at the compound?" You asked, following him down a hallway.

"I have multiple residences," he said, unlocking a door and pushing it open.

You rolled your eyes, of course he did, he was so fucking extra.

"After you," he said, his eyes shining with amusement.

"How chivalrous," you muttered, stepping inside.

His loft was elegantly decorated, with a large four poster bed, and expensive art on the walls. It was so very him, but you kinda liked it.  His taste was refined, and the space was masculine and sexy. You could already picture how the night was going to go, him fucking you on the large bed, the curtains drawn, and his fangs in your neck. Your pussy clenched at the thought, and you bit your lip. This man had you all twisted up, and he had barely even touched you.

His hands found your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, and his lips brushed the back of your neck. "Do you like what you see?" He murmured, his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass.

"It's alright," you smirked, turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. "The view's pretty good," you teased, looking into his eyes.

"Get on the bed," he murmured, his breath hot on your skin.

"Or what?" You teased.

He didn't say a word, just stared at you, his gaze intense. You felt a rush of adrenaline, and excitement, and you decided to push your luck. He was so cocky, and it was time to put him in his place. You stood your ground, trying to maintain eye contact, but it was impossible, he was so dominating. He gripped your hips, and lifted you up, throwing you onto the bed. You landed with a bounce, and he was on top of you, his hands pinning your wrists above your head.

You giggled and tried to break free, using your forearms to try and push him away. He was such a powerful man, and it made you feel vulnerable, but in a good way. In a way that had your pussy soaking, and your skin burning. He smiled and nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Behave," he warned, his lips moving down to your chest, and his fingers tugging at the top of your dress.

"Make me," you taunted, knowing it would set him off.

He ripped the dress off of you, making you gasp in surprise, and he sat back, his gaze roaming over your body, clad in nothing but the lingerie and stockings.

"I don't have any other clothes here, asshole!" you whined, annoyed that he had destroyed your beautiful dress.

"I'll buy you more," he said, his voice husky and deep, "so many more,"

He slid down, his tongue running over the swell of your breast, his hand pulling the lace fabric aside. He sucked the nipple into his mouth, and bit down, his fangs sinking into your flesh. You cried out, the pain mixing with the pleasure, and the sound of his low growls vibrating through you.

You squirmed and pulled this hair, trying to get him to stop, but he just bit down harder. Your back arched and you whimpered, tears forming in your eyes.

"Elijah!"

He released you, and licked the wound, sealing the bite, and making the pain subside.

"Are you done being a brat?" He asked, his hands stroking your sides.

"Yes," you panted, still trying to recover from the bite.

"Good," he murmured, his lips trailing down to your stomach.

He pulled at the band of one of your stockings, letting it snap against your thigh. He did the same to the other, humming softly as he did, before finally moving down, and burying his face between your legs.

He was frustratingly good with his tongue, his mouth sucking and licking, his hands spreading your thighs wide. You could feel the pleasure building, and your orgasm fast approaching. Your hands fisted in his hair, and you rolled your hips, trying to ride his face. But he held you still, controlling how much pleasure you received.

He eased two fingers inside you, slowly pumping them as his lips closed around your clit, his tongue swirling over it. You kicked your legs, the sensation was intense, and you were so close, the pressure building in your core.

He curled his fingers and the dam broke, a loud cry tearing from your throat as you came. He continued to work you, prolonging the bliss, and making you tremble.

He stopped and looked up at you. His face was glistening and his pupils were dilated, his eyes dark.

"Just admit that you like me," he teased, kissing your inner thigh.

"Not a chance," you smirked, still catching your breath.

He growled, and flipped you over, yanking your ass up, and spreading your cheeks.

"Then I'll have to make you," he said, his thumb tracing the seam of your asshole. His other hand coming down and spanking you, making you squeal in surprise.

He rubbed the sting, soothing the pain, and then smacked you again, this time a little harder. You gasped, burying your face in the pillows, and your fingers digging into the sheets. He alternated, slapping one cheek, and then the other, the pain becoming more intense each time.

"Elijah!"

He ignored you, his hand coming down on your ass, hard, and you cried out, your body shaking. He kept going, the blows landing faster and faster, and you were sure there were tears running down your face, the pain overwhelming.

He paused, his fingers ghosting over the heated skin.

"I'm sorry, am I being too rough?" He asked, his voice thick with sarcasm.

You glared over your shoulder at him, and he smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I thought you were a gentleman," you shot back, annoyed with him.

"I can be," he purred, his finger dipping lower, and tracing the entrance of your pussy, "when I want to,"

You moaned, pushing back against his hand, and his fingers pumped slowly. His other hand went to the back of your neck, pressing your face into the mattress, holding you still.

He added a third finger, stretching you, and making you whimper. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Just give in," he whispered, his voice husky and low. "It'll be so much easier."

You bit your lip, trying to fight it, but he was too skilled, and your will was fading. You moaned, rolling your hips, and grinding against his hand.

He pushed his thumb into your asshole, making you gasp, and he chuckled, his other fingers curling and hitting your g-spot. The stimulation was overwhelming, and the pleasure was building fast. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension in your core reaching its peak. He was relentless, his fingers and thumb pumping in and out, the sounds of your wetness filling the room. You were moaning, begging, pleading, the need for release consuming you.

"Tell me," he commanded, suddenly stopping. "Tell me how much you like me." His hand moved from the back of your neck and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, and making you gasp.

"Fine! Fine! I fucking like you, ok? I like you! I like your stupid face, and your stupid hair, and your stupid sexy accent, and your stupid dick!" You snapped, frustrated and desperate. You couldn't take the teasing anymore. "Are you happy now?!"

He chuckled, letting go of your hair, and pushing your head back into the pillow. He leaned down and kissed your ass cheek, his lips brushing against the hot, sore skin, before he moved, flipping you onto your back. He spread your legs, and settled between them, his fingers running along your thighs.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you, and kissing him hard, biting his bottom lip. You were tired of waiting, and you needed him. He growled, his hands cupping your face, and his tongue plunging into your mouth. The kiss was passionate and desperate, his body pressed flush against yours.

You unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, and running your fingers over his muscles, feeling the strength of his body. You then tugged at his belt, taking out his cock, and stroking him, your thumb swirling over the head.

He smiled and groaned as you touched him, his hips thrusting into your hand. You spread your legs wider, but he made no move to enter you, his hand moving between your thighs, and rubbing your clit. You moaned, the sensation too much, and you pulled at his wrist. He was being so fucking frustrating, and you wanted him inside you, now.

"Stop teasing me," you complained, glaring up at him.

"Why? its so much fun," he said, smiling wickedly. "I could watch you squirm for hours." He pushed the tip of his cock against your entrance, circling your clit, but still not penetrating you. 

"Tell me again," he said, "tell me how you like me, how much you want me," his hips rocking, his cock pushing and withdrawing, but never going deep enough to satisfy you.

"You are an arrogant prick, who knows exactly what he does to me." You said, your breathing labored.

He smiled and slowly eased into you, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt him inch his way inside, and you moaned, your head rolling back. He filled you completely, stretching you, and making your body burn with pleasure. It felt incredible, your pussy throbbing around him. He groaned, and nipped at your neck, his fangs gliding against the skin. You clutched at him, your nails scratching his back, as his hips started moving, slowly fucking you. 

You were already on the verge of orgasm, the tension coiling inside you, ready to snap. He felt too good, his cock hitting all the right spots, and his fingers playing with your clit. You were falling apart beneath him, your back arching, and your thighs quivering. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he affected you, as the waves of ecstasy washed over you, you bit down on your lip, trying to hide just how good he felt.

But it was no use, your body betraying you, your cheeks hot and your walls tightening around him. He smiled and kissed your neck, his tongue swirling over your pulse point.

"See, it's not so hard to give in," he purred, his hips slowly rolling.

"Shut up," you managed to get out, still panting, and your limbs weak.

"Already cumming on my cock, and we haven't even really started," he teased. He began to fuck you in earnest, thrusting hard and deep, his cock hitting your sweet spot with each stroke. 

You gripped his biceps, your nails digging into his skin, and you could feel his muscles flexing under your touch. His cock was so thick, stretching you, you spread your legs wider, wanting him even deeper.

"Look at you, so desperate for me," he smirked, his hands moving to your hips, lifting them and changing the angle.

You moaned, and he chuckled, his lips ghosting over your neck.

"So responsive, and so beautiful. My sweet girl," he whispered, his words washing over you.

"I'm... fuck- not… your girl." you breathed, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your heart pounding in your ears.

"Maybe not yet, but you will be," he said, his voice confident, his eyes locking with yours.

He was so sure of himself, and it only turned you on more.

"You wish, Mikaelson."

He laughed, his breath warm on your skin. He thrust hard, hitting the spot deep inside, and making you cry out.

"I do," he said, his eyes searching yours, "and I always get what I want."

You knew it was true, he was so fucking cocky, and the worst part was, you wanted him to have you.

He leaned back, pulling you up with him, and holding you in his lap, his cock impossibly deep inside. His hands went to your hips, guiding your movements, and his eyes never left yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, rocking your hips, and taking him deeper. The way he was looking at you, intense, and possessive, it was doing things to you. You couldn't tear your gaze away, your chest heaving, and your nipples brushing against his chest. You squeezed his cock, trying to make him go harder, faster, but his pace remained steady, firm, his grip on your hips tightening. It was all too much and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by him, and everything you were feeling for him.

He groaned, and smacked your ass, hard. You whimpered and dug your nails into his shoulders. His hands ran up and down your back, soothing the sting.

"No hiding," he said, his voice firm. "I want to see all of you."

You lifted your head, meeting his eyes, your eyelids heavy, cheeks flushed and your mouth open in a silent moan. 

"That's it," he murmured, his lips capturing yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. "Show me how much you like me," he teased, nipping at your lower lip.

You placed your hands on his chest, moving your legs to straddle him, and his cock slid deeper. You rocked back and forth, slowly at first, and then increasing the pace.

His expression was serious, his eyes fixed on you, and his hands holding your waist. It was like he was memorizing every inch of your body, and the way you felt, the way you moved. You could see the desire in his eyes, the lust, and something else, something softer.

"I like the way you're looking at me," you murmured, your nails dragging along his chest.

He hummed and grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back, his other arm wrapping around your waist, and pulling you flush against him.

"I like the way you feel," he replied, his hips rocking into you.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," you teased, knowing it would get a rise out of him.

"Only the ones I can't stop thinking about."

"Mmm, are there many of those?"

He laughed, shaking his head, and kissing your shoulder.

"None that compare to you."

His words, so unexpectedly sweet, made your heart flutter, and a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"Elijah..." you breathed, and he seemed pleased by your reaction.

His hands went to the small of your back and he pulled you closer, your breasts pressed against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, your skin warm and slick. The anticipation of what was to come sent a shiver down your spine. You threaded your fingers in his hair, gripping it as his hands went to your ass, guiding you on his cock.

"You don't have to leave, you can stay here with me," he said, his voice low and his eyes locked on yours.

You shook your head, not wanting to give in, not wanting him to know how much he affected you. How much you actually wanted that, wanted him.

"I don't like you that much," you replied, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

He smiled and kissed you again, his hand running down your back. You rolled your hips, grinding against him, your clit rubbing against his pelvis. Your movement picked up, and he moaned into your ear, his grip on your ass tighter. You could feel the pressure rising, the intensity becoming overwhelming. Your body tensed, your orgasm close, and Elijah gripped your hips and slowed you down, wanting to make the moment last.

"Stay?" He whispered, his nose nuzzling yours.

"You are so annoying," you muttered, and his chest rumbled with laughter.

"Is that a yes?"

You nodded, and his lips pressed against yours, his hands lifting you up and down. You moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound. The kiss became messy, both of you chasing the pleasure, the friction and the heat almost unbearable. You broke the kiss, panting, and the coil in your core snapped.

You moaned his name in long, drawn out syllables, your forehead pressed against his. He held you tight, his body tense as your pussy clenched around his cock. He watched you, his breathing heavy, his eyes glazed with desire. His hands traced your spine, lightly grazing the skin, and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You could tell he was fighting the urge to cum, wanting to drag out the moment. You looked at him and gave him a small smile, no more teasing, no more games. You touched his cheek, and kissed him, the kiss soft and sweet. Your breath caught in your throat, the intimacy of the gesture overwhelming. His arms tightened around you, his lips moving against yours, and you knew he was falling too, his control failing him.

He let go of your hips, his fingers clutching your ass. You wrapped your legs around his waist and rode him hard and fast, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone. He groaned into your mouth, his cock throbbing inside of you, and you felt him cum, his warmth flooding your body. You rested your head on his shoulder, catching your breath, and trying to make sense of what just happened. You never imagined that sleeping with Elijah would feel so right, so complete. Your mind kept telling you that this was a bad idea, but the connection between you was too strong to ignore.

He kissed your neck, his lips grazing the skin, and you let your eyes drift closed, succumbing to the warmth and comfort of his arms. He really was too good at this. 

"I meant what I said, about you staying." He murmured, his breath tickling your ear. "I like you, a lot."

He pulled away, brushing a few errant strands from your face, his fingers lingering. His dark eyes held nothing but sincerity and you knew then, in that moment, that despite your resolve not to like him, this wasn't just going to be a one time thing.

"I know," you sighed, your hands stroking his jaw, "you are very persuasive."

He chuckled and kissed you again.

"You'll stay?" He asked, his smile growing.

"I'll stay."

"Good," he hummed, kissing your neck, and nipping at your earlobe. 

His lips captured yours, and he kissed you, the passion and desire still burning. He kissed you until your lips were bruised and swollen, until your heart was pounding, and your skin was flushed.

"I still think you are an asshole," you said, once he'd pulled away.

"And I still think you are a brat," he smirked, his fingers tracing patterns on your back.

You laughed, and rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the moment, the closeness, the warmth of his arms, and the steady beat of his heart.

You couldn't help but surrender.

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[moociaoafterdark]

Primarchs and the birds I think they would be able transform into (and why)

1) Lion - Golden Eagle. Just like lions are called "Kings of Jungle", golden eagles are sometimes called "Kings of Birds". Aside from the naming, I think Lion would love such a magnificent, pompous bird.

2) Fulgrim - Albino/White Peacock. Do I even need to say anything here? Lord Shen looking bastard. Flaunts his gorgeous tail feathers to everyone. Will start screaming at you very loudly if you don't pay him enough attention. That is especially the case if you are one of his brothers. Especially if you are Ferrus. Sorry Ferrus. Surprisingly, though, Fulgrim doesn't turn into a bird very often. Some speculate he regrets choosing the peacock as his transformation. Others believe he loves his human form way more.

3) Perturabo - Red Tailed Hawk. Just like the Heresy is named after Horus, despite Perturabo being the sole reason it got this bad for the Imperium in the first place, red tailed hawk's screech is attributed to a completely different bird. Perturabo will feel a spiritual connection with this bird species, which is why he is able to transform into it in the first place. He does wish the bird was bigger.

4) Jaghatai Khan - Peregrine. Peregrine falcons are the world's fastest birds, and one of the fastest animals on Earth. There's literally no better bird for Jaghatai than this falcon. Probably yells "falcon punch" when he dives in (The Emperor told him to do that to "intimidate his enemies")

5) Leman Russ - Pigeons. Now, fun fact - crows/ravens have a symbiotic relationship with wolves, as they often hunt together and share the spoils. As you probably guessed by now, the ravens/crows are kinda already taken by another primarch (in canon even), so I had to improvise. Enter pigeons. Just like wolves, pigeons got domesticated by humanity and have been our companions for many centuries. Pigeons, just like crows and ravens, are social birds, meaning they live in one big flock and help take care of each other. This is as close as one gets to a wolf pack dynamic in the bird world, so there we have it! Leman does use his transformation mostly for pranks or "party tricks". Never in battle. If you propose him to do that for a surprise attack, you can spot a little bit of a blush, before he angrily tells you off.

6) Rogal Dorn - Arctic Tern. I think Rogal would find the fact that those birds have the longest migration distance (48,700 km to 70,900 km) REALLY fascinating. He surprisingly takes this form very often and for a reason. Up above in the sky he gets a good look at both his own defences as well as those of the Imperium's enemies. Though he doesn't like admitting it, he simply just really likes flying and letting the wind carry him.

6) Konrad Curze - Bearded Vulture. Those fuckers EAT BONES and look like fucking dinosaurs. Konrad would LOVE to terrorize people as this bird. He'll take off the skin and meaty bits in his human form, then transform into a bird to finish the job. By the time he is done - NOTHING will be left of you... GOD I love bearded vultures. FUCKING LOOK AT THEM!!!

7) Sanguinius - Swan. Graceful. Beautiful. A symbol of love. Will break human bones with a flap of the wings (or at the very least make you bleed). Nuff said, even if the choice is a little basic. If you can't find him anywhere, chances are, he is chilling in the garden, swimming in the pond. Make sure to bring bread with you, the good one. You know, the one that's all fresh and soft. If you're still unsure, just call Warmaster Horus, he knows what bread his brother likes.

(Yes, this how swans are rescued. In Sanguinius' case, this is how he is restrained when he is being a tiny bit of a nuisance)

8) Ferrus Manus - Hummingbird. Similar to Rogal and the Arctic Tern, Ferrus would find hummingbirds fascinating by how strong and fast their wings are (and how they're the only birds able to fly backwards). Despite the birds being smaller than some insects, they have caught the attention of one of the biggest primarchs... Which is why it's hilarious when Ferrus, this gruff giant of a man, able to move mountains and wrestle wyrms, transforms into a tiiiiiny bird mid-fight. Well, it's hilarious until you are his opponent and realize you just completely lost sight of Ferrus, until he transforms back into his human form but, by then, it's too late. On the more lighter note, Ferrus loves resting while, in his bird form, nestled somewhere in Fulgrim's hair. Warm, soft AND he can be sure he wouldn't be bothered.

9) Angron - Roosters. Hoo boy. So, roosters kinda have a reputation for being aggressive, easily provoked AND also having a history of being used in bloodsports. However, roosters are very valuable if you intend to keep chickens, as they take care of the hens, protect them and, if raised properly, can actually be great pets. So, over all, we have a loving, protective and loyal bird, who is unfortunately often mistreated and misunderstood, as well as used in bloodsports even to this day, which often leaves the birds aggressive and traumatized... Sounds familiar?

God, I hate thinking about Angron, because the more I think about him, the more I want to cry. I'm actually kinda teary eyed as I'm typing this, haha.

Anyway, to lighten the mood, Angron, with nails or without them, is a local alarm clock. It doesn't matter where you are, you WILL hear his crowing and you WILL get your ass up.

10) Roboute Guilliman - Harpy Eagle. The only bird I don't have explanation for other than it looks cool. And I'm not even a huge Rowboat Girlyman fan. Would love to hear your opinion on why this does or doesn't work. And if it doesn't, I'm eager to hear your alternatives.

11) Mortarion - The Marabou Stork. If you know anything about those birds - you know they were handcrafted by Satan himself. Or, Nurgle, I guess. Morty would love them.

(Above is an attached photo of a very private meeting of the Death Guard Legion. Lord Mortarion is on the white pedestal.)

12) Magnus The Red - The Scarlet Macaw. I swear, Magnus' daemon form is supposed to resemble the scarlet macaw. The resemblance is uncanny. Perhaps he was always meant to be the Emperor's "parrot on the shoulder", instead of, what, powering the Golden Throne instead of the Emperor? Yes, he sits on his dad's shoulder and makes snarky remarks to everyone. Malcador once threw a shoe at him for that.

13) Horus Lupercal - Bald Eagle. Actually NOT bald, just like Horus isn't actually naturally bald, because he SHAVES. The fandom lied to me, this whole time I thought Horus was jealous of his father's and some of his brothers' hair, when in reality he CHOSE to be bald!

... Anyway, high key Horus (before the heresy) is the Imperium's poster boy, so it's only logical to give him the bird that is essentialy a US mascot. He loves perching very high and enjoying the winds stroke his feathers. Also, if you kiss him on his forehead, while he is in the eagle form, he will get all giddy and happy. Horus also takes his bird form to play with Sanguinius, trying to race with him in the skies. Goofs.

14) Lorgar Aurelian - The Mourning Dove. In Christianity, the mourning dove is used to represent the Holy Spirit. It's generally a bird that is associated with spirituality, being a symbol of peace, love and faith. It would be a crime for me not to assign this bird to Lorgar. In the early hours of the morning, Lorgar would take this form to coo prayers in the language no one will ever understand, making it somewhat safe for him.

15) Vulkan - Crested Auklet. These birds are mostly found nesting on volcanic islands, such as Kuril Islands and Sakhalin island. They also live in huge colonies and can form strong bonds with each other. I think this bird would remind Vulkan less of himself and more of Nocturne... Which is exactly why he would choose this bird for transformation. He is very cuddly in the bird form and smells like tangerines too. Just... Don't hold him for too long. Vulkan, even as a bird, is still a living furnace.

16) Corvus Corax - Common Raven.

... Do I need to say anything?

17) Alpharius and Omegon - Emus. What better birds for the local "Just according to plan" guys than the ones that literally won a war against humans. Seriously, what the fuck, Australia?

And as a little bonus:

The Emperor of Mankind - Cassowary. You thought it would be another eagle? Or, perhaps, the emperor penguin with the "penguins of Madagascar" joke thrown somewhere in there? Nah. He gets the bird that is literally THE tired single father of the birds. On the other hand, though, the Emperor gets to harass people in the cassowary form. Imagine having the honor of being invited to the Imperial Palace itself and as you explore you get approached by a huge, dangerous looking cassowary. You manage to befriend it, even fed it some food you had on you, before you hear panicked Custodes running in your direction, screaming for the Emperor to stop harassing the guests. The cassowary then proceeds to book it, screaming back in the very human voice that he can do whatever he wants. And now you have an idea of what a normal Monday in the Imperial Palace looks like to the Custodes.

[justporo]

Do you have any headcanons on what Astarion and Tav's home would look like? :)

You bet, I do! But I put some more thought into it over the day so may I present you with:

Domestic headcanons about what Tav's and Astarion's home in Baldur's Gate would look like

After your adventures and some looting of certain castles you go to buy a small but luxurious townhouse in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate - probably criminally under its actual worth but you two are just so convincing, aren't you?

Dark wooden floors, high windows (with thick brocade curtains of course), wrought-iron balcony and fence - it's giving gothic and dark academia but in a homey and warm way

Soft lighting everywhere, lots of candles and candelabra, a fire place of course and oil lanterns that make every room feel warm and cozy

Astarion has impeccable taste and enjoys a bit of decadence (of course) and really finds joy in picking out furniture and decorations - he's going for noble, rich, palace-y, posh vibes, but tasteful

Also Tav would stop him from going overboard - she's not used to all the pompous stuff and cares more about the pracitcality of it all; also she's definitely the one who brings in some plants and greenery; also some nice stuff for Scratch because I'm sure Tav would insist on being the one to keep him

When Tav says she'd rather likes it simple tho... "Simple, love? Everyone can have simple, but not just anyone can have beautiful!" "So... you are not denying that beautiful means more complicated?" "No, but isn't that also why you chose me after all? Because I'm intricately complicated and incredibly beautiful?" Can't argue with that logic

Tav's also focused on making it cozy though and especially creating comfy little corners where they can just lounge together: like a little alcove to sit and read or look out the window or some pillows on the wood floor so you can sit in front of the fire place

There's a chaise-longue somewhere in the house - maybe in the incredibly over-sized dressing room, so Astarion can lay on it and watch Tav dress

DEFINITELY NO MIRRORS - no need to remind Astarion of that particular part of his condition; also why would he need it if you can tell him how beautiful he is everyday?

There's also a piano (as we have learnt before *wink*) and lots of books and trinkets and artworks - Astarion likes all stuff having to do with arts

It might be messy, at least at the beginning, you're both not used to having and holding onto stuff, also Astarion's desperately trying to find himself - that comes with creative chaos

Is there even a need to mention the bed is huge? And also has very much cliché dark red silk sheets? But it's probably the piece of furniture where you spend the most of your nights, not only for mingeling but just sitting and laying there, reading, drawing, talking, teasing each other

Also at some point you'd probably get a joint portrait but you don't want it to be too stiff and regal rather wanting it to show how much joy you give each other

The kitchen is to spoil Tav: when Astarion finds out you enjoy cooking and are pretty skilled at it he gets you all the best equipment he can find - even though you don't know how to use half of it - yet

Oof, I could maybe keep going some more... Thanks for the message, it was fun to think about this. (Also I know I might be swinging between medieval and more victorian vibes but hush, it's a fictional world where everything is possible) Also I knew I wouldn't yet do requests - but really that was just me putting something out there I already thought about. And I'll do some requests soon!

[remember-the-fanfics]

Earthborn (Hazbin Hotel Reader Insert)

Oh geez this made me realize I have religious trama while writing this.

Spoilers if you haven't actually watched hazbin hotel.

Also apparently the characters are taalll. Minus Niffty

Just test on how I'll write hazbin hotel so to be continued or not

"Go fuck yourself pompous prick!" (Y/n) yelled at Adam, their anger getting to them.

"Don't speak to me like that! You came from me!" He responded. "You are alive because I fucked-."

"Up, yeah I know. Being God's chosen people, Adam and Eve. Cast out after eating the apple, had two sons and one killed the other. Blah blah, I was raised in church." They told him. "And in a club in elementary school about the Bible so I know a bunch."

Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other in confusion, (Y/n) never talked about these parts of their past.

"Then why are you arguing with me?!"

"Because if you get to be here after getting banished from the garden by God himself then I see no reason why Sinners that want change themselves to get shouldn't." (Y/n) said staring at Adam with their arms crossed.

The Angels watching started to whisper to themselves.

"(Y/n), you know why you are here." Said Sara. "Please do not get involved with the next issue until we get to that."

(Y/n) looked way up to where Sara and Emily were seated. "Very well, apologizes I just wanted to get that out of the way." They bowed while speaking before standing straight. "...This is probably has to do in how I've been in hell?"

"Yes, (Y/n) (Middle Name) (L/n), you are still earthborn, not yet a sinner or a winner, have been in hell for just less than a year. How did you get there?"

Shocked faces across the room from everyone minus (Y/n), who looked uncomfortable with being called their full name.

"(Y/n) is that true?" Asked Charlie, surprised at the information. She knew (Y/n) didn't look like a sinner, kept a more humanoid look than most and was shorter than most of the people at the hotel.

"Yeah, I'm still human or well Earthborn as it was called. I didn't tell any of you since I didn't want you to worry." (Y/n) told Charlie look at her and Vaggie. "How did you even know?" They asked the Seraphim in charge. "I have an... okay disguise." Looking at themselves, with pointy ears,sharper teeth, and their eyes were not a normal color. They atleast didn't look human enough to question.

"We can tell by your soul. It still shows your the weight of your sins or what not. Not like I forget what one of my millions of too many great-grandchildren look like." Said Adam and with a grin and a snap of his fingers, (Y/n) felt the necklace they wore break in peices as the magic it held broke with it.

"I would rather be dead than be related to you, prick." (Y/n) said with deadpan look.

"It took awhile to realize you weren't just a weird sinner soul so we told Sara when we noticed all of you earlier." Said Lute, finally butting in before Adam could argue again.

"(Y/n) how did you get into hell?" Sara asked again, tried of this again.

"Not sure? Its kinda just a blank space between being on earth and then in hell." They answered with a shrug. "I found someone to help me somewhat look the part and then Vaggie found me while I was wondering around."

The earthborn was complete being too nonchalant with being in hell.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about not being from hell?" Asked Emily, earning a look from Sara.

"Well I mean at first for safety and then to keep anyone from worried about me? I'm kinda more... fragile compared to anyone else since demons and sinner have... an easier time getting up from a normal serious injury than I would." (Y/n) having to think of what they said before they actually saying it.

"I threw you off a building into a fight, how did you survive that?" Questioned Vaggie.

"Well Angel Dust caught me slash soften the fall and I mostly hide until Husk picked me up to leave."

"Why have you been helping Priness Charlie Morningstar with her project even when you are earthborn?" Asked Sara.

"Because it's a good cause? If I was a sinner I would want the hotel to be there to even give me a small chance to get into heaven even if you all don't believe in it. It's a humane way of handling the population down there. If redemption can happen to people while they are alive, why wouldn't it happen while they are dead and in hell? As along as they put in the effort to be good person, they should be a good person."

"If you know the words of the Bible why didn't you spread it down there?"

"Because being pushy to the wrong person could end me? And they really don't really think highly of you all. Plus for me if you heard how people like me would end up there for something out of their control, I would have trama with it."

"Why are you talking about it now if you have an issue with the Bible and God?" Questioned Adam.

"Oh, mostly because I'm pissed off. I don't have an issue with God, at all. It's people with opinions that wrote the book that got translated to many time with out checking by people who also had opinions. The Bible is.. fine. Heck, I didn't even knew there was a Lilith involved until Charlie told me."

(Y/n) sighed, taking a deep breath.

"What's gonna happen now? Are you going to kill me? Actual make me a sinner? Send me back making seem crazy or thinking this is all a weird dream until I actually die?" They asked. "Because if you send me back crazy, I'm gonna actually kill myself."

"No! Let's not do that, please." Pleded Emily to Sara, scared for (Y/n)'s safety.

"Of course, I wouldn't want you to do that." Said Sara.

"Because the Bible says it's a sin or because you actually don't want me too?" Questioned (Y/n), they were tired of this.

"They could become an Exorcists, it would be funny." Said Adam, laughing at the thought of (Y/n) killing their friends.

"How many times do I have to tell you I would rather die than be anything associated with you?"

"You're soul has yet to be judged but you've seen more than any earthborn have seen in many decades. You could stay in heaven as Winner or angel. We could send you back to earth. Which would you want to do?"

"I want to continue to help Charlie see this though." Said (Y/n).

"Your soul would be damned forever, (Y/n) as a sinner. I would not let that happen to any earthborn in your place in good conscious."

"Then send me back as I am. When I die, wherever that may be judged me as I will be."

"(Y/n), you're too young for-."

"It's Hell, I know but it can be nice when you get use to it just like Earth. Please just let me help until I'm ready to go home."

"...Very well, I'll give you till a month time to sort this out for yourself."

Gives you enough time to help for get set for extermination.

[warblogs17282]

Still thinking about the Truth Seekers line where Loona said,

"Blitzo was using a total of zero euphemisms, innuendos, or swears. That means it was serious, which means I don't open it until--"

And now, I'm thinking about all the different emotional and heavy-hitting moments from Blitz, but from the lens of that statement, and I'd like to explore that in a little more depth.

Because I feel like looking through some key moments of Blitz through the lens of that statement helps to add another layer of depth to what Blitz has been saying.

S2 E9:

Blitzo: No, I just- This was the final stop on the apology tour I've been on today.

Stolas: Oh, yes, I recall. Everyone but me is getting your cheap apologies tonight, hm? Well, you certainly have your work cut out for you.

Blitzo: Look, how I acted this morning... It was fucked, okay?

Stolas: This morning? Ugh, why did you show up there? Why'd you show up here?

Blitzo: You already asked that, but look, I-I just really need to... To talk to you, to- to explain.

Stolas: Oh?

Blitzo: I've always been real shit at sorries, 'kay? They're for pussies and no one fuckin' deserves them anyway, but I felt maybe you actually needed one.

Stolas: Ooh, lucky me!

Blitzo: Oh, shit. Okay, what I mean is, I said sorry a lot today and, honestly, didn't really mean any of it. Because the only one I wanted to say it to... Was you, Stolas. I just... This whole thing we had going... I'm- I mean you're a fucking prince. How could you ever actually care for an imp... Me? How could anybody?

Stolas: Blitzo. There is a crowd full of people here, who cared so much, they'd throw an entire fucking party about hating you, every year! Do you know how much you have to care to do something as stupid as that?

Blitzo: Stolas, you are better off without me. 'Kay? You deserve so much... I don't even know why you would want to be with me.

'I mean you're a fucking prince.' Blitz is technically correct here, but if we consider the Truth Seekers statement, I believe it tells us that Blitz, at least subconsciously, sees Stolas as more than just a prince during this scene, he sees Stolas the man here, not just Stolas the prince. And honestly, that probably makes it hurt more to Blitz, since he's still in disbelief/denial that Stolas has these feelings for him at this point.

Especially considering what it's followed up with, which I'd like to mention doesn't have a single swear word in it whatsoever, telling us even more just how sincere Blitz is when he said that final line.

Verosika: How do you think I felt? When the fun guy I was dating decided to just bail on me because I made the shitty mistake of saying I love... Ugh! It was the most embarrassing feeling. To be vulnerable for once and... you really just know how to send a message in the shittiest, fucking way.

Verosika: The worst part is you still make me feel like a bad person for being angry at you now.

Verosika: But, hosting this party, for everyone else you've dicked over? At least I can help others cope with the shit you did. What? No snarky comeback?

Blitzo: No. You're right. I actually am, ya' know... sorry. I-I don't want to be this way. Not forever.

Verosika: Looks like Stolas is having a good time.

Blitzo: Yeah, well. He needs it.

Again, just pay attention to the fact that Blitz didn't swear once during the part of the conversation I just showed, showing once again even more just how sincere Blitz is being here, to not be the way he is forever, to let Stolas have his good time at the party.

S2 E8:

Blitzo: What?! FUCK you, Stolas! You spring this feelings bullshit on me, are you fucking kidding? Can I get a FUCKING minute to think after everything you put me through, you pompous, rich ASSHOLE?!

Blitzo: Treat me like one of your little butler imps?! You can't just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this EVERY TIME, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as IMPORTANT! Well, I'm not letting you, BITCH! LET'S GO!

Stolas: Blitzo... I think so very highly of you... I didn't realize you think so low of me...

Blitzo: Stolas, wait! I'm s-

You know, the amount of swearing in that part of the episode tells me something, that what Blitz said during the peak of his outburst was exaggerated a little. Does Blitz make some completely valid points during that outburst? Yes. Is what Blitz said during said outburst a bit exaggerated because he was in the heat of the moment? Yes. Both of these can coexist, and I do completely understand why Blitz said what he said during that argument. (I'm not choosing a side on who was in the wrong in the full moon argument here, btw)

And, the lack of swearing when the realisation hits to Blitz of what he's just done, right as he tries to apologise to Stolas just further tells me that Blitz did genuinely mean that 'I'm sorry', he said right before Stolas teleported Blitz out.

S1 E8:

Blitzo: Fuck, Fizz was right. I'm gonna die alone, aren't I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered, waste. Will you be there, Loonie?

Loona: Be...where?

Blitzo: I dunno, jus- ...lonely... Die alone...

Loona: I'll be there, Dad.

Loona: Now go the fuck to sleep... okay?

Blitzo: Millie... Moxxie... Stolas...

Again, pay attention to the lack of swearing in that part of the conversation, minus one 'fuck' at the start of it, it just adds to showing us just how raw and genuine Blitz's emotions are during this scene, showing us that Blitz genuinely believes that he's gonna die alone, and also showing us just how much Blitz still cares about Fizzarolli, Loona, Millie, Moxxie and Syolas.

S1 E7:

Stolas: You know, I have some more wine in the house. Octavia's with her mother this weekend. So, we could--

Blitzo: I'm not fucking you tonight, okay? I'm really just I'm really not in the mood, Stolas.

Stolas: We could talk, or... watch a movie, or... maybe cuddle?

Blitzo: Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time. But, I just, I-I can't do it tonight, okay?

Blitzo: I'm sorry.

Stolas: Okay. Goodnight, Blitzo.

Blitzo: Night.

What I find interesting here is that the two times the word 'fuck' is used throughout this scene, it's used to replace the word 'sex', so thinking about this scene through the lens of that statement, it shows us even more just how much Blitz believes in what he's saying, especially when he says "Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear all the time."

Finally, S1 E6:

Moxxie: Do you remember what you said to me after my first day with the company?

Blitzo: ...Not really.

Moxxie: I remember. You told me I did a good job and that you were proud to work with me. I feel like you wanted to say something more judgmental, but... you said that because I needed it... And it helped.

Blitzo: Look, I'm hard on you, because I know what you're capable of, Mox. You care too much about what everyone thinks except for... me, because, y'know, my opinion is correct, but just... keep doing a good job. 'Kay? You shoot 'n kill good, you escape things easy... you can be strategic and cold-blooded when you need to, aaaand don't expect any more compliments; I'm maxed out.

Moxxie: Thank you, sir.

Blitzo: You know my name... Use it.

Moxxie: Thanks, Blitzo.

No euphemisms, innuendos or swears, showing us that when Blitz was talking to Moxxie in this scene, that he was 100% being serious in what he said.

So in conclusion: I have shown multiple examples where if you think about them through the lens of the statement "Blitzo was using a total of zero euphemisms, innuendos, or swears. That means it was serious, which means I don't open it until--", you start to see more depth within those examples I have shown in this post.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Not sure how old Gidel is but how about we get to see him and Cheka meeting? and then big bros Leona and Fellow can watch their kids play with each other haha

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Fellow liked to think of himself as decent at arithmetic. Numbers made sense, had clear-cut definitions to them. They could be manipulated in predictable ways. Added, subtracted, divided.

He also knew that children don't just magically multiply--which was why he did a hard double take when he glanced back and found two figures trotting after him, not one.

"... Who the hell's this?" Fellow demanded, thrusting his fox-tipped cane at the second boy. "You seen this guy before, Giddie?"

Gidel furiously shook his head.

The new child, a lion cub with a fiery orange mane, stared up at Fellow with wide caramel eyes. “Hiya! Have you seen my ojitan? I'm lookin' for him."

"Your ojitan?" Fellow blinked. He combed through the NRC staff in his head. Not a single lion beastman came to mind. Shoot, looks like I can't hold him for a handsome ransom. "Nope, can't say I have. You might be lookin' in the wrong place, kiddo. Try Foothill Town."

"I don't have enough money for the bus fare. I used what I had to take the bus here,” the bot explained. “Plus, Kifaji might still be waiting for me back in town.”

Kifaji? Must be the brat’s babysitter.

"Well, sorry. Afraid I can't help ya. C'mon, Giddie. Let's get going." Fellow turned and took a few paces. The familiar clumsy footsteps of his little brother didn't follow.

He stopped and glanced back, finding Gidel pawing at the pendant looped around the lion cub's neck. It was beaded with vibrant colors, with a large circular silver medallion and a cerulean feather hanging off of it.

"Oh! You like my necklace?"

Gidel nodded.

"Hehe. Kifaji says it's my special charm. It helps me find my way home when I'm lost." A pause. "Do you wanna try it on since you don't have one?"

Gidel's eyes widened. He reached for his top hat and offered it to the cub. A fair trade, he seemed to suggest.

"Oi, Gidel!" Fellow hissed. "Now's not the time for fun and games!"

His protests went unnoticed, however. The lion cub plopped the top hat on red mane, and Gidel slipped the feathered pendant over his head.

"Ahahah! You look so good in that!"

Gidel shyly waved a hand at the other child. You too.

"Your name's Gidel?" The lion cub gave a huge grin. "I'm Cheka. Let's be friends!"

Shock slipped over his facial features. Friends? Gidel hadn't thought it possible. He moved around too much, could never plant his feet in the ground.

Something in his chest fluttered with excitement. Friends, for real? Could he really have them?

“Oh no, ya don’t!”

Suddenly, Cheka was yanked back by the scruff of his shirt. Gidel, too, fell backward, pulled by Fellow by the sleeve. He had half a mind to scold Gidel for talking to strangers--but his mouth went dry when he met the gaze of another beast.

Green, proud.

"Y-You're...!!"

"Ojitan!!" Cheka squealed in delight.

"Don't 'ojitan' me!" Leona scowled, keeping his grip on the child firm. "You keep runnin' off from your guards like that, and ol' Kifaji will blow a blood vessel. He wouldn't stop spam calling me until I nabbed you for him. You're going back to the old coot ASAP."

"Noooo, I wanted to play with you and my new friend!" Cheka protested, flailing his limbs.

"Not on my watch, you aren't. Kiss your ‘new friend’ good-bye.” Leona glared at the top hat Cheka wore. “And trade that back.”

“Hold on a sec!!” Fellow cried out. “Did you just say this kid has bodyguards?!”

Bodyguards… and related to this pompous NRC student… That means he’s loaded!! Well, at least his parents are. Operation Handsome Ransom is still possible!!

“Heeey, Cheka-kun! How would you like to come over for a playdate with Giddie?” Fellow asked sweetly, honey dripping from his voice as he wrung his hands together. (Gidel looked confused until Fellow elbowed him, forcing the boy to give a vigorous nod.)

Leona narrowed his eyes at the conman. "Nice try, omnivore. That trick won't work on me. Find some other sucker. Cheka, we're leaving."

"Ojitaaan, lemme down! I don’t wanna leave yet!”

"No."

"C-Come back, Cheka-kun! This Uncle Fellow Honest-sama has a neat magic trick to show you!"

“Go away!”

"...!!"

"By the Sevens..." Leona groaned. He could feel a migraine coming on. "Let it go already!!"