#i should be asleep but this is what i'm thinking about

[mameillieureennemie]

Vi being gentle is so agskdbspsnsks BUT my girl deserves some gentleness as well 😭 After all her fights, her traumas, everything, she deserves to lean into the reader, to be caught instead of being the one catching

PLEASE I BEG YOU

i just love her so much, i really do. 🥹 she does deserve to be caught, always!

you've noticed the weight on vi's shoulders—how heavy it is and how it drags her down. almost sinking her right into the ground, sinking and sinking until she's burned by the earth's hot core.

you've always noticed; it's nothing new, and you've tried to shoulder some, if not all, of it.

but vi's reluctant to give it away, especially to you who knows a little too much about pain. you're both tortured souls, torn apart and left to bleed by a life far too unkind. it's taken years of healing and will still take more, but that doesn't mean that weight should be carried alone.

it's late into the night when vi gets home, and the weight seems heavier than ever. she's exhausted, visibly so, and struggling to remove her work boots as she leans against the hallway wall for balance.

you watch her silently for a moment, knowing that she hasn't realised your presence yet. you wait until it's too much, seeing her struggle at something so simple a pain to your soul. so you walk over, go to your knees and begin to take off her boots with gentle hands.

vi doesn't react at first, her exhaustion so deep it halts her usual sharpness. it isn't until you've removed one boot and moved on to the next that stone-cold clarity hits her. she's suddenly fast, falling to her knees and taking your hands between hers.

"wha—?" she tries, confusion written all over her tired face. "what are you doing?"

"helping you," you say easily. your hands are already moving from hers, lifting up to cup her cheeks. "you're so tired, sweetheart. you look like you're about to fall asleep right here."

"even so, you don't have to remove my boots for me," vi replies—scolds, even. "i'd never ever expect that from you. please don't ever think that you'd have to do that and—"

you shush her softly, smoothing your thumbs over the apples of her cheeks. "baby, i know you'd never expect that from me," you assure her, wanting to soothe the anxious flames within her. "i'm doing it because i want to." you huff a small laugh. "since when have you known me to do anything i didn't want to do?"

vi's lips twitch in slight amusement, tension beginning to leave her body in small waves. "i know," she murmurs, leaning into your hands. "it's just...hard to let go, sometimes."

"i know, baby, i know," you say, just as soft. "but you can let go with me, okay?" you lean forward, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. "you're safe with me."

vi goes tense for a second, as if arguing within herself. but then she goes loose, all her muscles softening, before she's falling into you.

you catch her willingly; forever willing.

[yoongelectric]

Blame it on the vodka - LN4

— part 2 of drunk in love

genre: angst and fluff

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: lando is an asshole at the beginning, curse words

notes: english isn’t my first language, i don’t know if there’s gonna be a part 3

tags @htpssgavi

"You know we'll have to talk about this tomorrow, right?"

"Tomorrow, I promise" Lando kissed your forehead and soon you were both asleep.

-

Lando woke up with his arms around your waist and the smell of your hair invading his senses. As soon as his eyes landed on you he thought about how much he would like to have a pause button to stop time at that exact moment. He knew that when you woke up he would have to face what he’d done under the influence of alcohol and he had no idea what he would do.

The battle in his mind was already giving him a headache, how could he go on with his life once he knew how it felt to have you, make love to you, wake up with you in his arms and finally treat you as something more than just a friend, it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. But how could he ask you to be his girlfriend if he knew that you would have to make so many sacrifices, you had your life here, your job, your family, your friends, how could he make you choose between leaving that to follow him or seeing him only a few times a month? Could you keep a long-distance relationship or had the impulsive decision he made the night before ruined what the two of you had?

You woke up with a piercing headache and the strange sensation of someone looking at you, although your confusion lasted only a few seconds as you remembered the events of the night, a smile spread across your face as you turned to face your... should you say best friend yet?

"Good morning," you said, looking at him lovingly and moving to leave a kiss on his cheek.

But your brows furrowed when you saw that Lando was not looking at you with the same smile or the same joy you had, he looked a little worried, even upset you would say.

"Is something wrong? Or should I get used to you being in a bad mood in the mornings?" You asked, with a smile, trying to ease the tension.

"Sorry, I'm still a little sleepy" Lando smiled but you knew him, you noticed how forced his expression was. You were going to ask again but he got up and started getting dressed.

"Are you going somewhere?" you asked a little worried, you didn't want to be annoying but lando's actions were giving you a sinking feeling in your chest.

Why did he seem to feel the same as you yesterday and today he treated you like a stranger?

"I have to go home, y/n" he said as he rushed around the room looking for his things.

He didn't know why he was doing this, he knew it wasn't the most mature thing for him to do and it definitely wasn't the right choice. But he needed to think, he needed time, a few more moments before facing the possibility of hurting you.

He didn't want to admit it but he was terrified, and he had to force himself not to look at you, to not meet your disappointed gaze, because he knew that if that happened he wouldn't be able to leave.

"You promised me we were going to talk today," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Maybe you were imagining things, Lando could be behaving the same as always and you were just sensitive, but the way he avoided your gaze, how it seemed like the mere fact of being in your house bothered him and how cold he was being towards you confirmed that it wasn't just in your head.

"Yesterday you asked me to stop avoiding you, to go back to how I was before, but now you’re the one pushing me away"

Lando knew you were right, that a real man would face you and tell you all his worries, but what would happen next?

"y/n I really have a lot of things to do today, I don't have time for this" Lando took his keys and headed to the door.

You didn't know what to feel, your heart was breaking into a thousand pieces and you were mad at him at the same time, how could he play with you like that, how could he tell you that he loved you and now leave you all alone?

You followed him hoping he would choose to stay but the person next to you seemed to be a completely different person than the one who went home with you yesterday.

"I asked you not to use me just to get your dick wet, Lando, I thought I meant enough to you to at least respect that."

Against all your will your voice broke, and you couldn't help but think of all the times you had cried and he had been there to comfort you, how could it be that he was now the reason for your tears?

Lando stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard you cry, and he hated himself for all the decisions that led him to hurt you.

"y/n don't say that, you mean the world to me, but last night was a mistake, we both know it" he said trying to grab your hand but you took a step back.

"We both know it? No, Lando, actually no, it felt perfectly fine for me, and no, I didn't know i was a mistake for you" your sadness turning into rage.

"You are not a mistake for me, last night i told you i loved you and I stand by it, I love you more than i love myself, but what's the point? I can't be with you, pretending that i could was the mistake"

"Why can't you be with me? I'm not pretty enough? Or famous? Or rich enough?" Your tears made it difficult to speak "I should have known, you don't consider me worthy of your love."

"I don't give a shit about your fame or your money, y/n, actually, I'm the one who's not worthy of you" Lando grabbed his head in exasperation and took a deep breath "you’d never be happy with me, we barely see each other, and I'm always busy with work, I could never give you the attention you deserve and I wouldn’t be the boyfriend I want to be for you."

"Who are you to decide what makes me happy or not, Lando?" You took a step forward and pointed at him with your finger "don't use time and your job as an excuse when the truth is that you're not willing to be the boyfriend you say I deserve" you yelled at him, your face red of anger

"Actually, I would do anything to be that man, y/n," his shoulders drooping in defeat, "but what if I can't? If I ruin everything and you end up hating me? I can't let that happen, don't you understand?"

"I don't know what's going to happen, Lando, I can't promise that everything is going to be okay and that we're going to live happily ever after" you grabbed his hand trying to calm down both of you "but what we feel is on the table, and what I can promise you that I am going to hate you if you leave now and leave me with my heart in my hand."

"I don't even know how to be a boyfriend, y/n. what if I'm not what you want?" Lando rested his head on your shoulder and you wrapped him with your arms, the anger was still inside you but the love you felt for him was stronger, you couldn’t see him in such distress.

"love, it's not like I don't know you, I'm know you're what I want, you don't have to change anything" you kissed his temple while caressing his hair

"i’m so so so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to make you cry, I didn't mean to be such a pussy” he took a deep breath “if we actually do this, will you be patient with me?" you felt him lean into your touch and knew he was finally opening up to the idea.

"I'm not asking you to be my boyfriend right now, we'll go as slow as you want" you held his face so he could look you in the eyes "the only thing I'm asking you is that you don't hurt me, don't leave without explanation, because I spent a lot of time thinking that you were never going to see me as something more than a friend and this is all new to me too."

Lando nodded and gave you a soft peck on the lips.

"forgive me, I don't know what I was thinking, I love you, I'm going to do everything I can to make this work."

and for the first time since you admitted that you were in love with him, you were sure that he felt the same, you weren't stupid, you knew it would be difficult, but you would both make it work, at the end of the day you were made for each other.

[pain-is-forever]

Theo wants to squeeze Argo back, but it all happens so quick he can't even begin to register anything. Aside from that smile. Argo's smiling. How could he be smiling right now? He just told Theo to kill him- and he's smiling. How could she have smiled when she asked that of him? Why do people keep smiling as they tell Theo to murder them?

"Andr-" Theo bites his tongue. Snap out of it. This isn't her. It's not- it's not the same. Get a grip. This is Argo. It's Argo. Not Andrea. You're not reliving this. You're not- you won't let that happen again. You promised her you wouldn't. You're going to keep your promise, aren't you?

"Argo- Argo, please. I can't- don't- gods damnit, I've already lost someone like that, I can't lose you, too-" Theo reaches out to Argo, wanting to hold them, to hug them forever and make everything okay. He doesn't know how, but he's sure he could figure it out, if only he had time-

Theo's so selfish. He's selfish in thinking he could fix it all by himself, that he could change Argo's mind about this. That he can just keep them here against their will. But it's Argo. He can't lose Argo. Argo, who was one of the first people to not give up on him.

Fuck no. He's not letting his friend die. Not like that. He's not killing another person, he simply won't let that happen. He wants to tackle Argo to the ground again, but stops himself. Argo's hurt. He's got two deities inside his brain. There's no talking them out of this. It's what they want.

Everything hurts. Theo's chest stings with guilt, his head is pounding, even his eyes hurt from the crying. He feels as though his legs are about to give out. Like he's not going to make it any longer. Like he's going to collapse and never get up again. He feels like Argo just told Theo to kill himself instead of them.

Argo is part of him, an inseperable part of him. He can't just get rid of that part as if it meant nothing. His bottom lip is quivering. He can't do it. He can't bring himself to raise his sword at his brother. There's just no way in hell he'd manage to do what he was asked.

Then, Argo's eyes turn white, and everything disappears. It's as if Kronos stopped time. Theo feels like he's floating in a pink abyss, Argo's body floating beside him. The scene doesn't feel real, deep down he knows he's in the woods, he sees the trees- but in his mind, he's in that pink abyss, nothing aside from himself and Argo there. He doesn't want this to be reality.

Memories flash through his head. The times they'd laugh together, the way he'd comfort Argo, that one time he gifted them a coat, all the times they fell asleep next to each other, the way they lived in the same house- adopted by the same man. This can't be the end. He can't let it be the end. He'll find a way to fix this. He'll- he'll go down to the underworld and drag Argo's soul back into his body. This time he'll succeed. He'll make sure Argo is alive and alone in their body.

But first, Theo has to do something he'll regret. Something so heart wrenching, so horrible, that he won't be able to sleep for at least a month because of it. Something he swore he'd never do. 'I'm sorry, Andrea. I have to- I know I said I wouldn't, but I have to-' gods, he feels so guilty. This is all his fault. He slowly draws his sword, his hands are shaking. His entire body is shaking.

Theo puts his foot on Argo's abdomen as an attempt to stop them from squirming. If they squirm, it's just going to hurt more. Theo wants to give Argo a quick death. His brother doesn't deserve to suffer like this. He can't make it painless, but he'll make the pain go away as soon as he can. So fast the body won't even register it. That's his goal.

He positions his sword above Argo's chest, locating the heart. A quick pierce through the heart, stopping function. It should be over quite soon. Spare him the pain. Just do it. Just- Just stab him. It's not that hard.

He breathes in, closing his eyes shut. He doesn't want to look at this. At what he's about to do. His chest hurts, it pangs with guilt and sorrow. His hands are shaking, the sword threatens to fall to the ground. He grips it tighter, takes a couple more deep breaths. He has to do this. He has to- Argo asked. And who is Theo to deny his brother's request? He calms the shaking in his hands, steadying his grip and the sword.

He shuts his eyes even more, so much so he starts seeing spots in the darkness of his eyelids. He inhales deeply once more and quickly brings his sword down on Argo, piercing through the heart. Theo's body crouches on its own with the motion, just to make sure the sword has fully gone through the body. A hole in the heart. Theo's entire body hurts, he fights back tears.

He opens his eyes. It's over. He did it. He made it. Oh, gods, he's killed someone again. Oh gods. He pulls his sword out of Argo's body, the wound starting to bleed. He collapses onto his brother's body, he doesn't even care that his face is on the wound. He's getting blood on his face. He doesn't care. He starts crying again. He stays like that for a while before moving his face to kiss Argo's forehead. "Rest easy, brother..."

This one won't come back. This one's dead for good. It's over. Part of Theo is gone. Argo is gone. Fuck, what has he done? This is so wrong. Tears mix with Argo's blood on Theo's face. He hugs his brother one last time before setting the body to the side and beginning to dig.

Theo wants to dig a grave. He can't give Argo the proper Greek burial, but he can give them a burial. And any burial is better than no burial. He's digging with his hands, he has no shovel and swords aren't exactly made for digging. Dirt getting behind his nails, pebbles in the way and tree roots interrupting, Theo persists. None of it deters him. He needs to do this.

It takes him a couple hours to dig a proper hole, but he manages to make it. He digs through his pockets and pulls out a single golden drachma. He gently opens Argo's mouth and places the coin on their tongue. He closes his brother's mouth and lifts the body, as if nothing else in the world mattered. He sets it down in the hole and pushes the dirt he dug away back into it. He pats the top out to smoothen it.

Then, he walks to find Argo's dagger. He comes back to his little burial site and stares at it. He gets angry. Why would this happen to him? Why him? Why does it always have to be him who loses friends? He rushes up to the tree next to the grave and starts slashing at it wildly with the dagger until he's exhausted.

Theo's exhausted. He's tired and angry. He falls forward, lodging Argo's dagger in the grave. He wants to dig his friend out. He wants to fix this. He has to- he can't lose this one. But he doesn't Argo wanted this. Argo wanted it, and Theo has to oblige.

"Why would you leave me...?"

Open Starter

TW: SELF HARM, attempted murder

I want to scream. I want to scream. She is in my head. Get her out. Get her out.

Argo refused to leave the forest, he's been there for a week. He can't hurt anyone in the woods- they can overpower him.

Argo has clearly been crying for.. hours. He looks like a ghost- he looks dead.

Argo is holding a dagger, the one his brother gave him. He's not really.. holding it. It's on the ground next to him- because he has stabbed and sliced into his own legs repeatedly- and is panicked; trying to stop the bleeding.

Make her leave. Make her stop talking. I thought she'd stop if I did this. Please- make her stop.

When you approach- Argo's eyes switch colors so fast you get dizzy.

"I-" He sputters. "I have to kill you."

ANYONE CAN INTERACT

(seriously I'm so bored. any blog (canon or non, epic or pjo blogs) I WANT INTERACTION!! :P (I swear I'm nicer than Argo is)

taglist (ask to be added or deleted): @orion-the-hunterpt2 @lilacnightshade @pain-is-forever @reyno-solis-real @faceless-bugger @unlicensed-field-medic @the-great-emperor-commodus @the-eclipsed-sun

[emsdevs]

can we get a tz11 where reader is nervous for something so he just does whatever he can to make her laugh and cheer her up 🙏

Sticks and Smiles

a/n: kirby my love, i'm sorry i made you wait so long for this 🧍‍♀️i hope i make you giggle while you read this MWAH love you 🧡

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Trevor Zegras Masterlist

You had an important interview at work coming up, and as the day got closer, your nerves became more and more prominent. Trevor could see the toll it was taking on you, and it made his chest hurt. He hates seeing you so stressed out. His favorite activity is actually making you smile or laugh. It’s what gets him through his own hard days. He takes it upon himself to cheer you up. He can’t have his girl being down all the time. What kind of boyfriend would he be?

“Hey babe! What do you call a pig that does karate?” he wasn’t sure why, but dad jokes were his preferred method of cheering you up. It probably stems from when he said one on your first date because he was so nervous he wasn’t sure what to talk about. That was the first time he’d heard you really laugh, and he’s been chasing that high ever since.

“What, Trev?” you couldn’t hide the sigh in your words.

“A pork chop!” He managed to get a little grin out of you, but he wasn’t planning on stopping. He’d try again soon. Just about thirty-five minutes later, he decided he should throw out another joke.

“Why did the golfer bring two pairs of pants?”

“I don’t know, Trev. Why?” the grin was already making its way back onto your face, and he knew he was making progress.

“In case he got a hole in one. Duh,” he said the punchline in such a stupid tone you couldn’t help but let out one little chuckle. He waited almost an hour this time, giving it enough time that you might think he’s done.

“Baby. What did the policeman say to his belly button?” “Again?”

“Yes! C’mon!”

“Okay,” you sigh, but it was really just for dramatics, “what did he say?”

“You’re under a vest!” Trevor must’ve thought this one was pretty funny because he laughed before he could even catch your reaction. When he saw you fighting away a smile, he knew for sure his plan would work. He just couldn’t give up.

The two of you had just finished eating dinner when he dropped the next joke, “Why are there gates around cemeteries?”

Your brows are furrowed when you look at him, worried about where this joke might go, “Why?”

“Because people are dying to get in!”

“Trevor!” you try to scold him, but with the small laughs you’re letting out, you know he isn’t taking you seriously. He waits until you’re both in bed to tell you his last joke. You’d just gotten comfy, him cuddled up against your back.

“Babe,” he’s whispering horribly right into your ear, “what’s brown and sticky?”

“Trevor, no.”

“C’mon please.” Again, you sigh, “Okay. What is brown and sticky, Trev?”

He snorts before revealing the answer, “A stick.”

You can’t help it. That one gets you. Before long, you’re cackling right beside Trevor, and he’s loving it. It feels like it’s been forever since he’s seen you smile that brightly. Knowing he caused it makes him ten times happier.

“There’s my favorite smile,” he’s looking at you so tenderly that it leaves no room to doubt how he feels for you.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so stressed recently,” you’re not sure why you’re apologizing. You just felt the need to.

“Don’t be sorry. Just wanna be sure you’re happy. That’s all I ever want,” Trevor leans in to kiss your temple, and the two of you fall asleep like that, all tangled up in one another with smiles on your faces.

taglist: @heartsforjh @fofiquierellorar @devilinpradaheels @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @pickedapuck @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3

join the taglist

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Party Twenty Seven)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Twenty Seven: Y/N and Cillian have an unsettled night. Both tired and tense, little things aren't so little in their small hotel room. Facing a day on poor sleep, anxieties and tempers are a little frayed. [Anxiety themes. Adult conversations]

@strangeions @watermeezer @meadowshelby @lavender-haze-01 @cherry-cilly @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme @borntodiemp3

--------

You groan as you're dragged from sleep, annoyed when your hard achieved slumber is destroyed after hours of tossing and turning by the noises of Cillian fumbling around and string of curses that would have been comical if it were not three am and you hadn't only been asleep for an hour. “Fuck sake, Cillian,” you huff.

“I'm after nearly breaking my fucking ankle on the runners you left by the bathroom door, and all ye have for me is ’fuck sake, Cillian’?” he hisses at you. The room is almost pitch black, what small illumination there is comes from a streetlight behind the curtains and it isn't significant. “Nearly fucking pissed myself just trying to get into the fucking toilet.” he tutted.

“If you weren't waking up in the middle of the to go, like a seventy year old with prostate issues, then you wouldn't be waking me up after a single fucking hour of sleep.” You match his tired annoyance. “Or maybe if you weren't sinking bottles this evening…” you dig at him as you turn over, your back to him as he gets back into the bed. He sits on the side for a moment, and you can feel his eyes burning into your back. You know there was no need for your comment, and you know a simple ‘sorry I left my shoes there' would have been enough, but you're exhausted, and now you're awake you feel sickly, and he'd woken you up!

“Sinking bottles?” He snaps at you, “Two fucking beers when you were after telling me you're pregnant? Fuck off, Y/N. How about you don't leave your fucking shit at your arse, and put your shoes somewhere other than the middle of the fucking floor.” He threw himself down against the mattress and as he moves, his backside collides with yours and you smirk at him giving you his back in his mood. You decide there and then that he's as childish as you are, if not worse.

You try to settle your annoyance and calm yourself to return to sleep, but now you're awake you need a pee, and your mouth is dry, and you kind of wish he'd turn around and spoon you, cuddling you so you can fall asleep with his arms, and his heartbeat, and his signing little breaths. But you're annoyed at him, and he can fuck off if he thinks you're going to apologise, and he can also fuck off if he thinks he's getting a blowjob in the morning (not that he was even aware thar you'd thought about it for a split second earlier that night), and he can further fuck off if he thinks he's ever touching you again because all you want to do is fucking sleep! You sigh and turn over onto your back, then turn your head towards him. You're able to make out his shape beneath the covers and the back of his silvery head. He feels far away, and your annoyance begins to seep from your body, replaced by the urge to hold him. You turn onto your side and shuffle close, pushing yourself up behind him, and wrap your arm around his waist. You move your hand until you find the hem of his shirt, then slide your hand underneath and rest your hand against the skin of his abdomen, moving your fingers in the trail of dark hair beneath his belly button. You push your face into his back, between his shoulders, and sigh as you inhale the smell of his skin and clothes, and close your eyes. “I'm sorry.” You whisper into his shoulders. “You should be able to pee without breaking bones.” You feel his tummy muscles tighten for a moment beneath your hand as he scoffs a small laugh.

“I've to wake up in a couple of hours for work - go to sleep.” He says, and he's calm and sleepy, and the contempt has gone. He hasn't apologised for snapping at you, but you're breathing him in and he's warm and you're willing to concede that you're the problem this time. But to yourself - not to him. He shifts slightly and he reached his arm back and rests his hand against your hip for a moment before drawing it back again. Was that his sorry? It'll do.

You sigh contentedly as you keep your body close behind his, and you will sleep to return. You can hear and feel when his breathing changes as he falls asleep, and you envy him. You keep your hand on his belly and try to breathe steadily like he is, wondering if it'll relax you and put you to sleep, but after ten minutes you just feel a little breathless and you're still wide awake. You reluctantly decide to leave him be and move slowly away from his body. You turn back to your side of the bed before sitting on the edge. You get up and walk slowly and carefully to the bathroom, and shut yourself inside before you turn on the light, worried that the flood of it into the room might wake him again. When you emerge, you ensure the light is off before you pull the door fully open, and frown when you realise he's awake. “Cill?” You whisper into the dark.

“Flushing that toilet makes a fucking racket in here,” he croaks. “Not your fault,” he adds, though it's distorted as his jaw drags down in a sharp yawn. He groans as his mouth snaps shut again. “What time is it?” He asks, despite his phone being very much within his reach and his watch on his wrist.

“Nearly four,” you say quietly, looking at your own watch.

“Fuck sake,” he grumbles. “Well, will we shag like rabbits?” He says, absolutely not serious at all, and he sits up, legs over the side of the bed, and reaches out to the locker beside his pillow to flick on the lamp. A soft white light bathes the room and you blink to adjust your eyes.

“Want tea?” You offer, mostly for something to say. He shakes his head as his left hand scratches against the back of it, and he yawns once again. He looks fed up, and tired, and he keeps pursing his lips and you know his brain is full of many things. “Hug?”

He pushes up his bottom lip as he looks at you, and his eyes have a soft smile to them even if his lips don't. “I always want a hug,” he says, still grumbly, and he opens out his arms as you walk towards him. You stand between his knees and hug his head against your bust. His arms are tight around your back, and he hums - grumbly but contented - as you run the nails of your left hand back and forth across the back of his head, through the more tightly cropped section of his hair. Evidently, it feels good. After a minute, he laughs and tips his head back. His chin rests between your boobs and he raises his eyebrows high. There's a cheeky glint and an almost smile. “So are we riding or wha’?”

You tut and swipe the back of his head where your hand rests. “No.”

He forces a comical pout, “Ah, you're no fun.” He smirks, and adjusts his head again so that he is resting his right cheek on your right breast. “I can already tell I'm gonna be in foul humour all day,” he sighs. “You'll come again today, yeah?”

“I think it's too distracting. Especially now, knowing… you've not slept properly, you're stressed, you've a job to do. It'd be better if I wasn't there. You need to focus, love.” You say gently, “What time are you on set this morning?”

“Nine,” he says, yawning again. He taps his hand against your back and it's the silent calling time on the hug he always does. He sits back and looks at you. “You'll have to get in touch with the doctors when we're home.” He says and sits forwards again, one hand held out to rest against your stomach. He places it just below your belly button, over your shirt, and twists his lips. “Make sure everything's alright, like.”

“Why wouldn't it be alright?” You frown, a little bemused.

“Jays, there's a whole load of things that can go wrong, and sure some don't even…” he stops abruptly, and then he looks up at you, looking very guilty. “Ah, no, Y/N. Everything will be grand.” He insists quickly.

“Why would you say something like that?” Your frown deepens. “Is that why you're being so fucking calm about all this? Got your fingers crossed that something goes wrong?”

He looks genuinely shocked at your words, “Hey, no, of course not.” He says, and take this hand away from your abdomen. “Absolutely not, Y/N.”

“Well you're pretty fucking chill considering your speeches recently, Cillian. And why would you say something like that, just now? Why would you even be thinking about it? This is supposed to be a happy fucking thing.” You can't keep your tone from being sharp, but you do well not to shout. You shake your head as he looks back at you, a little dumbfounded admittedly. “I can't believe you.” You sigh.

“Jesus, if I'd have lost the head of meself, I'd have been a prick. Telling you I'm not unhappy but I'm scared apparently also means I'm a fucking prick. I can't win!” He pushes himself off the bed and stands before you. “It was a throwaway comment, I didn't mean to frighten you. And I am not hoping for something to go wrong here, that's be terrible, Y/N.” He sighs and you watch his cheek push out as he runs his tongue around the inside of his mouth. “I didn't mean to scare you, but things can happen, you do understand that? Maybe it isn't a bad thing to be prepared that you mightn't like something you could hear.”

“Like?” You push. “You mean like disabilities? I wouldn't terminate a child for….I don't know, Down's Syndrome, or limb differences, Cillian. Not a chance.” You tell him, your face firm and your tone even firmer. “Is this your way of telling me you would?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Jesus, all I said is things can happen. And I shouldn't have. I didn't think or say anything else, I didn't secretly fucking mean anything else.” He sounds pissed off, actually, and you want to punch him on the nose. He walks away from you and digs around by the dresser at the far end of the room. When he turns around, he has his jacket over his arm and his cigarettes and lighter in his hand. “I'm going for a smoke.”

“Cillian!” You call out as he approaches the door. He stuffs his bare feet into the trainers he had left there and throws his jacket on over his pyjamas. “You childish little shit.” You shake your head, laughing sarcastically, as he drags open the door and disappears out into the hotel corridor. “Prick!” You bellow, knowing full well he could hear you out there.

[adriwatchestoku]

Gavv ep2

oh boy I get to watch this next to my husband I can't wait for his input

I think it's funny that we don't get to see unmasked rider actually like. riding the bikes anymore. it's so obvious they're not riding the bikes and they're actually just sitting there while being pulled

the cgi is so bad can someone please give the minions some shadows?

girl's cute tho

gavv has such a strong visual identity. it's brightly coloured but in a way that's gavv, not anything else. I like.

heisei phase 1 you could learn something from Reiwa about visual identity.

shouma you need to learn what is edible. even though I want to know what happens if you eat something inedible

… shouma on edibles sounds fucking hilarious. Child should not have edibles

okay but imagine the minions he'd create from eating one

I like this look into the Stomach family but FUCKING HELL pay your cgfx people and stop overworking them. the cgi looks terrible

immediately to the sweets. Shouma, please at least try the other food

he already knows how to use chopsticks better than Ankh did.

so what's the food to minion ratio? If we just stuff him with potato chips do we get a building full of minions?

"I'm great with manual labour" and after hearing one of their workers got away… ow, Shouma

shouma works on minimum of 125% doesn't he

that kid's a good bean. not giving anything away about shouma's identity

okay yeah hearing about how Shouma never got snacks before and how his mom used to wax poetic about them while eating what looks like liquified shit definitely is depressing

I love Sachika and will die for her

SHOUMA IS SO BABY

LITTLE DUDES STOP BEING UNDERFOOT

oh shit that was disturbingly efficient. And it still looks like a bloody organ

there's definitely something super special about it being a red gavv

FUCK okay so FUCK his transformation is just………… jfc, the way his eyes go wide and he pitches forward like he's about to faint.

I'm liking the way the granute of the week acts like just a normal person towards Shouma, and OH BOY YOU HIT A BERSERK BUTTON OFFERING TO SPLIT THE PAY

shouma stop destroying the warehouse just to figure out how your power up works

shouma and his brightly coloured gear has to be a funny ass sight to see in the middle of the night like that

new power up next episode…

husband fell asleep so no input from him

[midnight--sadness]

So I've seen a number of anons bring up potential Gi-hun pregnant during the second games scenarios, but I think for maximum comedy he should have zero idea he is pregnant and randomly go into labor either during or in between one of the games.

Gi-hun, during the search for the Frontman, slept with "Young-il" nine months before, who claimed he was grieving the death of his wife and unborn child. Really, In-ho wanted to see Gi-hun, and one thing led to another. So when they "run into each other" at the second games, it seems like a massive coincidence.

Gi-hun has been displaying some strange symptoms like nausea and stomach pains and the occasional odd food craving that he has dismissed because of his stubbornness and determination to stop the games. Plus, the thought that he is pregnant just never even occurs to him because he is not showing because he has not eaten much or rested and simply because he believes he is far too old to worry about such things anymore. So when his waters break at the second games, it is a big "what the f*ck" moment for all parties.

I would love to imagine how In-ho reacts, but I have already taken up a lot of space 😂

this is soo gihun 😭😭😭😭 this would definitely happen to him vnienkgv

sometimes he feels some fluttering in his stomach but he just thinks it's something bad he ate, neverming that he never actually eats anything 🙄

i'm trying to think of the funniest moment he could go into labor and it's either as he is about to vote on the games or when they are playing mingle or the pentathlon.

let's say it's during mingle.

they have just crammed ten of themselves into the room and the shaman is yelling like a maniac and inho is staring creepily at gihun and gihun is bent over, clutching his stomach and watching the remaining players be gunned down outside.

his abdomen is cramping and his hips and lower back ache really back but he thinks it's the physical stress of the game and the result of not eating anything while being nauseous all the time. again, pregnancy flies right over his head because he. is. old.

the labour is one of those that is super quick!

gihun is still watching through the door slit when he feels something wet down his legs and he looks down to find his pants are wet.... daeho of course, would ask if he is okay and jungbae would chuckle that he peed his pants but gihun is just horrified and geumja is like "that doens't look like pee 🤨"

and gihun curls up in pain, holding his abdomen and inho is like "are u pregnant? 😟" and gihun says no, that's impossible... except that they had sex nine months. his contractions are worse and everyone is freaking out and the door won't open!!!! and inho feels like he is about to pass out bc what do u mean he's having another kid????

gihun has the baby right in that room, there isn't even time to get anyone out. junhee has a lovely preview of herself within the following month and daeho can't look gihun in the eye bc he's seen ALL of him. jungbae immediately claims to be the baby's fav uncle and geumja is admonishing gihun for not noticing that he is pregnant. of course, hyunju, our queen, held gihun's hand through the whole thing and let him yell at anyone he wanted, particularly inho 🥰

OR - he has the baby during the night while everyone is in the dormitory asleep

[reiding-writing]

Well, basically, it would be a "Spencer × female reader" One Shot and in it, the reader should be a woman (as I already said) the same age as Spencer. She is not an FBI agent, though. She is a stay-at-home mom and together, she and Spencer have two kids, a 2-year-old twin girls (you pick the names, just keep the age and gender the same. I picked age 2 because I love that age and I'm also about to start to work with kids that age). And Spencer arrives home after working on a case on his birthday. He is exhausted and isn't expecting to get anything, but his wife and daughters welcome him with cake and presents. It's not exactly a party, but they are all together and that's what matters to him. What do you think about this idea? I think it would be cute, so if you'll write it, thank you🙂. — @lucreziaq2001

SURPRISE! — S.REID

what better thing for spencer to come home to on his birthday than his girls?

spencer reid x wife!reader | 1.5k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — fluff was promised, and fluff has been delivered 🙂‍↕️

Spencer had seen many things in his life—more than any one person should ever have to witness.

His job as a profiler meant he spent more time immersed in the darkness of human nature than anyone should. Yet, despite the chaos and the constant threat of danger that shadowed his every step, Spencer knew there was one thing that made it all worthwhile: you.

You weren’t an FBI agent. You weren’t involved in his cases, never surrounded by bloodstained evidence or haunted by the victims’ stories. You were a stay-at-home mom, and together, you and Spencer had built a life that brought him peace.

His mind was always working, always calculating, always trying to figure out what made people tick. But when he came home to you, when he saw the sparkle in your eyes and felt the warmth of your touch, the world slowed down. It was a calmness he treasured.

And tonight, after a long and exhausting day of chasing down leads, after the case had gone longer than expected, Spencer was coming home to something more precious than any solved mystery.

—

As Spencer pulled into the driveway, he noticed the house was dark. It was almost 9 PM, and he knew his girls, Julia and Ava, would be sound asleep by now.

You, too, would likely be tucked into bed, content to have a quiet evening after the chaotic day of caring for the girls. It was a routine that worked for you, the silent and subtle balance of home life.

You had everything under control while Spencer was gone.

He hated that he wasn’t there more, but he made it work. He made it work because he loved you and the girls more than anything else in this world.

Opening the front door with a quiet turn of the handle, Spencer slipped inside, trying not to make a sound. The house smelled faintly of vanilla and lavender, the scent of candles you liked to burn in the evening.

As he stepped deeper into the house, he could hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen. Curious, he followed the sound, silently walking down the hallway.

When he reached the kitchen, he stopped short, blinking in surprise at the scene before him.

There you were, standing near the kitchen table, smiling up at him with that warmth in your eyes he could never quite get enough of. And in front of you, perched on high chairs, were Julia and Ava, both girls grinning from ear to ear with cake smeared on their faces and hands.

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Julia called out, her little voice echoing with excitement. Ava immediately chimed in, “Happy birthday!” The two of them clapped their hands in unison, giggling in the way only two-year-olds could.

Spencer’s heart swelled at the sight. He had been expecting nothing. He was used to spending his birthday alone, at the office, working cases that kept him up late into the night. But this—this was the last thing he expected.

You stepped forward, holding a small cupcake with a single candle flickering brightly atop it. Your smile was soft and genuine, your eyes filled with love and adoration.

It was the kind of birthday celebration Spencer had never allowed himself to want, but the kind he realised he needed more than anything.

“I’m sorry it’s not much,” you said, your voice warm with affection. “I know you’ve had a long day, but we wanted to make sure you knew how much we love you,”

Spencer’s chest tightened, his throat going dry as he took in the sight of you and the girls. The exhaustion of the case, the stress, the dark thoughts of the day all melted away in an instant. It wasn’t much, but to him, it was everything.

“Mommy helped us make cakes!” Ava announced proudly, her voice still full of excitement.

“Wish, Daddy!” Julia urged, her eyes wide with innocence.

Spencer blinked and then looked down at the cake, its candle flickering gently. He felt a lump form in his throat as he made his silent wish, his heart full of gratitude.

You had done this for him. After everything, after a long day and the stress of his work, you had taken the time to create something small and beautiful to remind him of what truly mattered. His family.

Spencer blew out the candle, not taking his eyes off the girls as they giggled and clapped again.

“Wish, Daddy! Wish!” Julia repeated, her voice high-pitched with excitement.

“I did,” Spencer said quietly, still caught in the beauty of the moment. “I can’t tell you though, because then it won’t come true, hm?”

The words were barely out of his mouth before both girls came charging toward him, arms outstretched. He kneeled down to meet them, his arms opening wide as they both threw themselves into his embrace.

The smell of their baby shampoo filled his nose, the soft warmth of their little bodies against his chest filling him with an overwhelming sense of love.

“I missed you both so much,” he murmured, pressing his face into their soft hair.

“You’re home, Daddy,” Ava said, her voice filled with contentment as she pulled back to look at him.

Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, just taking in the feeling of them in his arms. The world outside didn’t matter here. The cases, the crimes, the endless work—it all faded into the background. What mattered was this. What mattered was the family he’d come home to.

You were standing a few feet away, watching them with a soft smile on your face, arms folded over your chest. You were so beautiful in that moment, so at peace, that Spencer couldn’t help but stare at you.

It didn’t matter that he was tired, that his brain was fried from the long day. The sight of you and the girls filled him with a sense of calm that no case could ever take away.

“This is all I ever needed,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity as he looked up at you. “You and the girls.”

You walked over to him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder gently. “I know,” you replied, your voice soft with affection. “We know you’re always thinking about us, Spencer. We think about you too,”

Spencer smiled up at you, his heart racing with love. “I don’t deserve you,”

You shook your head, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Yes, you do,”

Ava tugged on his sleeve then, her little hand reaching up toward him. “Cake, Daddy! Please?” she demanded, her voice all but pleading.

Spencer laughed, nodding as he stood up to cut the cake. Julia helped him by handing him a fork, and the three of them made sure to pile his plate with an obscene amount of cake, all of them giggling as they served him.

The cake was messy—mostly frosting with a little bit of cake in between—but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except that they were all here together.

As Spencer sat down to eat with his girls, you watched from the side, your heart swelling with love. You hadn’t planned anything extravagant, no party or guests to help celebrate. But you didn’t need to.

Spencer’s happiness wasn’t found in expensive gifts or big gestures. It was found in moments like this: quiet, simple, and surrounded by love.

The evening passed slowly, filled with laughter and stories as the girls played with their toys and Spencer told them about his day—filling in the details in a way they could understand. As tired as he was, Spencer was so thankful to be home. To be with you.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, leaning toward you after the girls had started to doze off, their energy finally fading after a sugar-induced high. He kissed your forehead gently. “This was more than enough. This... is everything,”

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned into him. “I’m glad you’re home, Spencer,”

[dewdr0pz-alt]

forever my heaven

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

chapter two: reconciliation

word count: 1.5k

You slowly opened your eyes and were greeted by the blurry sight of...no, the room wasn't blurry. You blinked a few times until your vision was clear.

The room you were in looked completely opposite of the hotel; the walls and furniture were hot pink and purple, there had to be at least fifty pillows on the bed, and a small pig was asleep next to you.

"Why is there a pig..." you whispered to yourself before sighing, body weighed down by exhaustion.

Bones aching, you slowly stood up and wandered over to what you guessed was the bathroom and took a look at yourself in the mirror. You were a mess—your wings were shredded and sticky with honey-colored blood, your eyes were droopy and bloodshot, and small bruises and cuts littered your arms and legs. You were also now in a tank top and pajama shorts that were clearly meant for someone taller. Any blood that had been on your face was wiped off hastily, a few smears near your mouth and eyebrow.

"Oh, you're up," a voice said from the doorway, causing you to jump and whip your head around. There stood a tall...spider? He laughed at your reaction. "I don't bite, toots. Unless ya want me to, but I doubt it."

"Are you a spider?" you blurted. "Sorry, sorry, that was rude—"

"No, you're fine," the spider(?) chuckled. "A humanoid spider, I guess. Call me Angel, toots, 'kay? A lot easier than 'spider boy.'"

"O-Okay," you nodded. "Where...where am I?"

"Well, whaddya remember?" Angel asked, sitting on the bed.

"I...I remember coming to the hotel," you said slowly, "and I knocked...knocked on the door, and this blonde girl was all...all worked up and asked if I was okay, and then she called Lucifer—oh my word, where's Lucifer?"

"Woah, woah, settle down," Angel Dust laughed. "He was worried about ya too, as soon as ya came in. Charlie—that was the blonde chick—sent him up to his room and told him to wait till ya woke up."

"What time is it?" you murmured.

"8:45," Angel Dust said, grabbing his phone off of the nightstand.

"AM?" you asked. When he nodded, you sighed wearily. "I slept all that time?"

"Ya knocked out at around 5:45, 6:00," Angel Dust shrugged. "You were snoring, though," he laughed.

"Oh my stars, is this your room?" you said. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to force you out of your room."

"It's alright, don't worry," Angel Dust held a pair of his hands up and shook his head. "I slept in Husky's room," he added like you were supposed to know who that was. He stood and opened the door for you. "C'mon, let's get you breakfast." You slowly walked out of the room and down the stairs, where there was a television and a few couches.

"Oh, you're awake!" the happy blonde girl—her name was Charlie, right—beamed. She took your hands and sat you down on one of the sofas. "Gosh, you must be starving! We'll get you breakfast and—ooh, wait, how about we take you to a breakfast place? You could get a mini tour of Hell!"

"She's dazed, Charlie," Angel Dust said, "give 'er a few."

"No, it's fine," you shook your head, "I'll go. Who would be going?"

"Oh, right! I should introduce you to everyone!" Charlie laughed. She pulled your hands to stand you up before pointing at the bar. "That's Husk, the one sleeping over there. He's our bartender. A very 'tough love' sorta guy, but you two will get along great! And you've already met Angel! That's Vaggie—she's my girlfriend—she's the one on that couch over there, and I think Alastor's up in his room. Niffty's the little one near the bar."

"Playing with the dead...bugs?" you said slowly with confusion.

"Eugh...yeah," Charlie grimaced. "Angel, do you have any more clothes she can borrow? We should probably go clothes shopping too..."

You sat quietly in the booth, meeting the eyes that were staring at you (Charlie and Angel Dust).

"So, do people fuck in Heaven?" Angel Dust blurted.

You stayed quiet, your cheeks flushing profusely. "Um...Charlie, is--is your father alright?"

"Yeah, he's okay!" Charlie nodded. "He was really rattled when he saw you. Not in a bad way! He was constantly asking about you, wondering if you were okay. He was actually the one who got you into Angel's pajamas."

"That's nice," you smiled. You looked at the water in front of you. "Is the water in Hell...cursed?"

Angel Dust laughed loudly. "Oh, aren't you innocent? It's plain water, toots."

Your face flushed as you took a cautious sip of the water. To your surprise, it was quite nice.

"Did you order anything to eat?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know what any of the food is," you said. "I only recognized bacon, so I ordered a side of that."

"Oh, don't worry, you can have some of mine!" Charlie beamed.

"I'm alright," you shook your head. "I'm not very hungry." You looked up when the waiter came and accepted your food graciously. The bacon looked relatively normal and smelled fine, save for the fact that it was dripping with grease. You took small bites of the piece in your hand, your nails scratching the napkin in your lap.

"If you don't mind me asking," Charlie said, "how did you and my dad meet?"

///

You were sitting on the edge of the small pond in the Garden of Eden, staring curiously at the small, fluffy, yellow creatures swimming about.

"Admiring my creations?" Lucifer laughed, floating down to you.

"What are they?" you asked, staring at the creatures still.

"I call them ducks," Lucifer said as he sat, the smile evident in his voice. "Those are babies. I think I'll call them 'ducklings'. That sounds good, Y/N?"

"Yeah," you smiled, looking up at him. "I like them." You looked back at the ducks. "I think the other angels will like them, don't you think?"

Lucifer sighed nervously. "The higher-ups want me to stop making these new things. They said my ideas were too dangerous. I just think they hate creativity." He laughed.

You chuckled with him. "Well, I certainly don't."

///

"What's your name?" a voice called out, startling you.

Your head snapped up, eyes a little wider now. You stared at the small boy in front of you; his blond hair was nearly white, and he was wearing a white robe that dragged behind him. He looked curious.

"Y/N," you squeaked out. You were both little at that time, but you acted like he was an adult with how nervous you were. "What's yours?"

"Lucifer," he smiled. "But my friends call me Luci. Well, if I had a lot of friends, I bet they would."

"I can call you Luci," you offered.

"Really?" the boy beamed. He skipped over to you and looked down at your toys. "Whatcha playing?"

"I'm making a castle," you said, handing him a blue block. "You can make one. I have dollies, too."

"Is this the princess?" Lucifer picked up a doll with a pink dress. "Does she live in your castle?"

"Mhm," you nodded. "You can make a castle for the prince doll."

"Are the prince and princess in love?" Lucifer asked.

"Probably," you shrugged. "They can have a wedding, too, once he rescues her from the dragon."

"There's a dragon?" Lucifer gasped. "Don't worry, princess, Barnabus the Knight will come to the rescue!"

///

"Childhood friends," you said simply. "We were close before he...you know."

Best friends. Soulmates. Mourners.

"I bet you missed him," Charlie said sympathetically. "I'm sorry about that."

"I was sad then," you said, sipping the water. "I'm fine now."

I'd never wept so hard in my life.

They heard my screams and thought I was being murdered.

"We can have you talk to him when we get back," Charlie offered. "How does that sound?"

"Lovely," you smiled. "That'd be lovely."

You found the door that Charlie had described to you and took a shaky breath before knocking once.

The door slowly creaked open a fraction, and a sliver of an eye could be seen in the crack before the door swung open.

"Y-Y/N," Lucifer gasped. He was trembling, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot. Did they always have bags under them?

You both stood there in silence for some time before a gut-wrenching sob ripped itself from your throat. Though it was a habit, you couldn't bear to cover your face; if this was all a dream, you needed to ensure that you could see him for as long as possible. Lucifer's face contorted into a pain-ridden look of sympathy before he sobbed with you, catching you in his arms as you crumpled.

"I missed you," you whispered. "I missed you so much."

"You came back," Lucifer wept, his hand running through your hair as though he believed it to all be fake. "You're back, you're really back."

"I tried to make them listen," you sobbed, pleading, almost. What you were pleading for was unclear even to you. "I swear, I tried to make them understand, but they didn't listen—"

"Shh," Lucifer soothed through his cries. "I know, I know. You always try so hard."

"They never listen," you bit back what felt like a shriek stuck in your throat.

"I know," he whispered. "But I do."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

tags: @blueberry-muffin323 @mochamuff1n @eeeeeemmmmmmyyyy @1m-1nsane @lovevxle @back-totheoldhouse

let me know if you'd like to be on the tag list!

[kdelarenta]

something something rebecca can't stand to look at amelia's face for too long because of the coldness and detachment she sees in her eyes, rook's eyes. he never looked at her with anything but love.

something something rebecca can't stand to hear amelia talk for too long because sometimes she'll say something brave and admirable, and it's like rook is speaking to rebecca through her. it's too much to bear.

[onehundredfallenpetals]

Head in the clouds, both lost in nostalgic dreams

(Click for better quality)

[housederiva]

Your art is FANTASTIC and the random observations/polls/interjections you make have really helped to fuel the DA fandom in positive ways! Which it definitely needed after Veilguard's release, lmao. It's always a pleasure to see you on my dashboard!

That's very kind of you to say oh my gosh thank you so much. I'm just bumbling around and every once in a while I say something people think is worth sharing, and I like sharing what other folks feel/make too! I'm glad I'm a not too much of an annoyance xx

I think my favorite thing about having this blog is the notes I see on other peoples posts I rb, it’s nice seeing all sweet things get things sent an artist way or conversations/theories carried on in a rb chain

It’s a big ol show n tell and it’s a wonderful reprieve from my normal day to be able to see other folks stuff too ✨

[wildsaltair]

not enough words in the English language to explain how much I need him right this second

[valentjin]

we've all seen the jokes about Raphael and clonefucking but what if we talk about Raphael and Clone. welcome to my TED talk, here's how Raphael can still win-

(don't take it TOO seriously, i'm just offering some info/lore/mechanics and whatnot from d&d that could be interesting to consider, for fics or headcanons or whatever else this might be useful for lol)

anyway onto the post. so while idk if 5e has anything particularly specific or definitive about this (knowing 5e probably not, though I haven't read descent into avernus so idk if they have more fiend lore in there) going off 3.5e cambions are just defined as another name for half-fiends, which the MM says are typically outsiders with the native subtype - meaning they can be "raised, reincarnated, or resurrected just as other living creatures can be". huzzah, this means they have souls (imo). presuming the same holds true for cambions in 5e, since 5e also just defines them as the offspring of a fiend and a humanoid, i don't see why Clone wouldn't be an option for Raphael. it's only 8th level (surely there's a few 15th level wizards out there), the material component cost is only 3000gp (for a diamond and a container for the clone), and once the clone matures it "endures indefinitely" as long as the container does; when the creature dies its soul transfers to the clone with all its memories, abilities, and personality (but none of its gear, so we still snatch his diary) + the body's physical remains don't disappear if they aren't destroyed, so the orb vision we got about Meph munchies still tracks

the only potential issue is that in order to transfer to the clone, the soul of the creature must be "free and willing to return", but idk why anyone would have a claim on Raphael's soul to prevent it from returning. since he clearly deals in other people's souls a lot, he would probably be pretty careful about not letting anyone else get their hands on his! (plus he makes a point of saying he's a devil not a cambion when talking about himself, he wants to act like he doesn't have one at least 😂)

Clone lets you make the clone look like a younger version of the creature as well (nooo dont make your clone look like a younger version of yourself Raphael you're so sexy ahah)

[coquelicoq]

life hack!! shift your sleep schedule up two hours by being so bored and depressed that at 10pm five nights in a row you find yourself thinking "the only way to salvage this day is through the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness" and then immediately going to bed so you don't have to figure out another way to pass the hours ✅

[teddybeartoji]

uncensored as hell today but he def gets off on the tinted mess of cum and blood dripping out of you once hes done coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you + hes sick in the head and slowly manipulates you into getting eaten out too . bonus points when its post fucking. also think he gets a kick out of being the one to wash the sheets and clean up if you bleed out in your sleep 👍🏼

JAIL . I AM SENDING YOU TO JAIL YOU CANNOT KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS IT'S TOO MUCH ICAN'T FUCKING TAKE ITTTTTT SCAR THIS IS MAKING ME FEEL INSANE WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME AS IF THE WHOLE PREMISE OF HIM BRING VEEERY INTO PERIOD SEX ISN'T CRAZY ENOUGH YOJ JUST HADDDD TO ADD THE EATING OUT PART IN THERE TOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

one million extra points if it's after fucking actually i think he looooves to do that hhhhhhh you're so much more pliant then yk? tired from all of the orgasms you barely have any strength to push him away when you get overstimulated so he can just take his time with you..........

also . while he mostly ever keeps his eyes on you, on your face, i do agree he fucking loves the sight of the mess so he's a bit more prone to glance down at where the two of you are connected so he can burn the image into his brain forever. rubs your clit and hums to himself when he can see more blood seeping out of you i'm going to jump off a cliff scar you are actually so evil you are RUINING MEEEEEE