#kitten leather gear

[chillis-woof-stuff]

Meow...

[malfoys-demigod]

“Wear a jacket, it’s cold outside”

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: Just a quick fluff drabble where the reader’s out admiring the morning snow, but also at the same time not wanting to admit she’s cold and of need of a jacket

A/N: Hi all!! It has been a while since I wrote. Life has been so hectic for me, but ever since I watched Deadpool and Wolverine recently, the love I have for X-men came back and I really loved seeing tons of Wolverine fics pop up!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

There was always something magical about the first morning snow at the X Mansion that made Y/N feel like the happiest girl in the world.

There was that feeling of serenity and calm that comes from snowy environments which she loved feeling every winter. It would prompt nostalgic memories: childhood fun, holidays spent yearning for a white Christmas - it just made her happy.

So when the first snow arrived early in the morning, Y/N got up as fast as she could, slipping on her favorite winter boots as she made a dash out to the entrance of the X Mansion, only wearing her long-sleeved pajama top and jogging pants.

There it was.

A fresh blanket of snow, covering the whole landscape of the area, as more snow fell down gracefully from the sky. Y/N was enjoying the sound of silence - watching the snow flutter down like magical confetti, which felt so healing to her.

She watched as the trees were heavy with snow on its tips, smelling damp pine cones from a distance. She never felt so happy.

That was until she took a few steps outward from the driveway with her last step causing her to take a small slip into a soft blanket of snow. She was now laying on wet snow, laughing her ass off from being so reckless out of nowhere all alone. The gleaming snow around her was what made her choose to stay grounded on the floor, expanding her arms and legs as they made snow angel movements.

It was only a matter of time for Y/N to start experiencing the frost bitten feeling around her body, numbing her as she continued staying out in the snow without proper protecting from being frozen. Yet.. she didn’t exactly have plans on going back in to wear protective gear just yet.

Meanwhile back inside the X Mansion, Logan had just woken up from a surprisingly good sleep. He didn’t have any nightmares to fight off this time. He actually woke up peacefully.

He got up, wore his regular leather jacket, fixed himself up quickly, and took a look at his window, seeing white, as he discovered the first snow of the season.

What he then noticed after was Y/N, lying down on the carpet of snow, with a smile on her face. Logan swore he almost felt a smile on himself growing too fast for his liking. He always kept his relationship with Y/N to a friendly-teasing kind of thing going on, but deep down, he always wanted to see if he could have more than that with his colleague.

His face definitely returned to his typical serious form, as he took a closer look at Y/N… with tingling cold finger tips, shivering slightly. He wondered why she wasn’t returning yet inside to warm up, and a level of concern grew in him, picturing her as a poor, frost bitten kitten, who needed help.

He turned around and made his way outside at full speed.

The heavy crunches of the snow under Logan’s feet as he stomped towards her caused Y/N to sit up and turn around.

Logan huffed at the sight of his kitten, looking bitterly cold now as her arms were crossed tightly. “Kid, what the hell are you doing?”

She smiled childishly with pink spots on her cheeks, which Logan discretely found lovable. “Um, enjoying the first snow?”

Logan had a displeased look on his face, definitely due to her reply. “No shit, but ever thought of doing it with extra layers on? You’re gonna freeze yourself to death, bub. You don’t want the kids to wake up on the first day of snow and see their teacher frozen over, do ya?”

Y/N was too amused with the silly, impossible idea of turning into an iced sculpture to even notice the worried look Logan had on his face. “Oh come on, Lo,” she brushed it off, “I’m fine. A little cold won’t hurt me.”

Logan was about to protest until Y/N brought out a small sneeze. She pointed at him her best straight-face, wanting to speak up first after her ‘A little cold won’t hurt me’ statement.

“Shut up, Logan,” she commanded, “That was nothing. I’m fine.”

The secretly smitten man, rolled his eyes, not buying a single thing she said. “Alright, here we go” he said, pulling her up for her to stand on her feet as she whined, “Hey!”

“Wear a jacket, it’s cold outside.” He pleaded after she complained with her frowns.

“But I really just wanted to stay a few minutes longer then I’ll go back in,” she admitted, giving her best ‘Puss-in-Boots adorable eyes’ that made Logan want to fold so damn easily. But he shook his head, removing his favorite leather jacket, that he would never just give to anyone. Her few minutes were definitely not few minutes and he knew that.

“Take it and wear it,” he surrendered.

Y/N lightly gasped, knowing very well that Logan and his leather jacket were famously inseparable. She was too flustered to say anything at the moment, so she took the jacket from him, mumbled a thank you, and started wearing it.

Logan had definitely taken a liking to what he was seeing. She looked so good in his jacket and he was captivated by how adorable she looked, with the jacket looking slightly oversized on her.

Y/N felt her heartbeat move faster when she taken a notice at Logan’s fitted black shirt, outlining the muscles that attracted her since the first day they met. She looked away, looking down at her shoes, hoping her cheeks weren’t pinker than they were earlier.

“You wanna join me for those last few minutes?” She asked teasingly with a small smile on her face. How could he say no to her?

He ‘nonchalantly’ huffed a ‘kay and sat down with her on the ground. She shifted a little closer to him, her head leaning on his shoulder. While her eyes were focused on the snow in front of her falling from a distance, his eyes were on her, wanting to make sure he saw her reaction to when the shoulder she was leaning on moved up, as Logan started wrapping his arm on her, getting them closer than how they were just a second ago.

Logan smirked to himself, seeing how red-faced Y/N was now, still focusing her attention on the snow, as she was avoiding eye contact with Logan, who was now hoping they spend more than a few minutes cozying up together before heading back in.

Maybe after that, he could treat her to hot chocolate, because of course, it was cold and he without a doubt thinks it’s the only nice thing to do afterwards…! *wink*

@snackthatsmilesbackchlldren @iluvloganhowlett (shoutout to you and your amazing fic so far! love seeing your works!)

[sabokunsmalia]

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄; erwin smith featuring: erwin smith x captain fem!reader content warning: oral; male receiving, MDNI! hi it's malia: fave one-armed man deserves a bit of aftercare too! requests are open, blessing souls.

the scout regiment returned this morning from another mission. it did not fail, the information about the titans slowly put together a long history book. but the citiziens did not se what those brave soldiers have done for their sake. at least, the time's to watch them leave with multiple groups of cheering soldier and witness the return with less than half of the army caused a shift in their belief.

and while wounded cadets and devastated soldiers mourned their lost friends, captain erwin smith took the blame and insult from each individual. the critism towards his plans, and the foreign words which were used as bad nicknames for a man, who led too many innocents into their deaths. those days of the big return, which kids awaited with glistening eyes and wide smiles, always got the best out of erwin.

slumbered back in the uncomfortable leather of the overused office chair, the commander ran the fleshy fingers through the strands of light blonde. after the many years, he has spent as the leader of the scout regiment, it should have gotten easier to swallow the very unpleasant commentary but instead, it still pained him. like anytime was the first time again.

and you, as his girlfriend and subordinte for the past four years, knew exactly how much those actions and words pained him. much more than he showed, much more than he would accept, and much more than he would have thought. and as his good girl, the good girl of the 13th commander, you attempted to please erwin with all your might, and help him forget about those unknowing wimps, who have never set a foot into the lands behind the wall maria.

which was one of the greatest reasons, why you found yourself underneath his large, mahagony desk. the hem of your skirt laid perfectly mid thigh, your bare knees against the cold floor of his office. one of your soft hands placed on his right thigh, short nails digging into his skin. erwin loved them in a longer version but with the odm gear and the strong hold on the blades, you hated breaking them.

the commander was focused on the letter in front of him. three pieces of paper which came from the government personally to discuss the latest operation. he needed the stress relief. ways, no one else but you were able to give to him. and you complied so easily to his commands, almost falling to your knees and crawling underneath his desk with a simple glance of his.

thick, blonde eyebrows furrowed, a lust-laced groan escaed his stone-cold facade. he was the commander after all, always having to be prepared for a subordinate, cadet or captain, burst into his office with urgent information without knocking.

with just one arm left from a previous fight against a crowd of titans, erwin had a difficult time to make important decisions. decisions which weren't connected to a war plan or the history of their enemies. writing another paragraph for the humans in a position even higher than his rank, or run his fleshy fingers through your hair towards the back of your head to push you down completely. after all, he was done with the teasing pace.

slow kitten licks with the tip of your tongue along the underside of his hard dick. over and over again until your soft, swollen lips wrapped around the tip, sucking for a moment to taste the beads of pre cum which gathered on the red tip. you knew exactly how much it annoyed erwin that he couldn't do a thing about the ways you decided to please him. because hell, he wasn't going to get caught while one of his captain's had his dick deeply buried in their mouth. it would get him fired in not even a second for the misusage of his position and power over the scout regiment.

how lucky, you always knew where the line was drawn between work and privacy. "doing daddy such a favor," erwin praised underneath a harsh inhaled breath, letting his lids slip close for merely a couple of seconds. "now be a good girl for daddy and suck it," the blonde glanced down, a satisfied smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth at the way you looked up at him.

eyes widened, mouth widely spread into a smile and a glimpse of sweet happiness in your beautiful eyes. gosh, he was so lucky for having you, for calling you his very own good girl. and he even realised that more when you obeyed his command, leaning forward and letting his painfully hard dick feel the warmth of your mouth. "won't need long, been too much those past days,"

erwin's mask crumbled under the way, your lips wrapped so tightly around him. moving up and down his dick, warm drops of salvia following your movements and dripping onto his balls and leaving stains on the chair. for a moment, the commander with the ever-resting unsatisfied face was pudding in your very own hands. as all those times before when you were ordered to his office, and sucked him off so good.

he appreciated you, and your help, without a doubt. you would receive more of his attention as soon as he left the office and ended his shift as the commander to be your boyfriend. slowly, his hips snapped up, mirroring the pace of your mouth while letting go off his problems and the scout regiment for seconds. all he wanted was to feel you, focus on you. it was all he needed as his orgasm approached quicker than usual.

[a-pups-writing]

Sure thing anon!! A/N; Thank you for requesting, my first ever request on this blog and I'm so excited!! You didn't specify what kind of pet the reader is, but I'm taking it as a kitty (since Satan loves them so much). And you didn't specify what form, so I'm going with head canons!

CW; GN AFAB reader, written in 'you/yours', both NSFW/SFW pet play, HC's, p in v (mention), oral (M receiving), (very little) praise/degradation, dom/sub - master/pet dynamic

he'd be a pretty good owner, I'd imagine. Taking care of you just like how he takes care of his books, always so careful.. Until he isn't.

has you wear a very pretty collar, its leather and black but with a silver buckle in the back (maybe even a lock, if you're okay with that) and a tag reading 'kitten'. There's also a matching leash of course, he likes tugging on it.

you have some pet gear, which he always helps put on and also of which he bought most parts of, including a tail (both as plug and belt) and some pretty ears!

also got you a water bowl, you know those ceramic ones? Yes, one of those, with little paws on the side (sometimes fill it with special milk..yk)

has you mostly crawl and rest in a cat bed, makes sure his pretty kitty has all the toys and blankets they need.

will tug on your tail plug for fun or to distract you, the reactions are funny for him.

has you cock warm him while he reads, telling you to be a good kitty and let him use your sweet cunny or mouth, dont move or suck but just sit all pretty for him, you'll even get pets if you do it right..

or you're under his desk/besides his reading chair in a kitten bed, having to stay still or play quietly while he reads. Doesn't always have the time to satisfy his pet, sadly.

when he does fuck you, he does it either in doggy style (haha..) or in a mating press, just loves to fill you up! He's gonna breed you so so well, just be quiet and let him you up.

talking about breeding, he loves it, filling you up with his cum so much you can feel and see your belly expanding. Telling you to take it and be his good kitty, he knows its a lot but you need it sweetheart after all, how else would you get through your heat?

but sometimes he's mean with it too, especially when you disturb his reading or study time, calling you a desperate and saying you only think with your pussy (…), bending you over and spanking your pretty bum red before he finally decides to fill your very needy pussy to breed you. "..there, that should put you back in place. Stupid pussy."

Little drabble; just couldn't help myself.. :( "Kitty..can't you see master is busy? Are you to desperate, to deep in your brain to comprehend basic orders now?" He asks while looking away from his book, marking the side and shutting it before setting it down on the table before him.

You only look to the side while he does, you are a little needy, yes..but its not your fault! He's put that vibrating plug tail in and you can't just not whimper and try to get his attention with it, so you only huff.

Before you can react further he pulls you up by your collar, making you gasp then choke for a second before you find yourself bend over his desk - pretty cunt and butt all exposed for him to see, to touch..

A slap quickly finds his way onto your left butt side, making you whimper quietly. "Shh, you have to be a good kitty. Take your punishment for disturbing your master." He soothes, somewhat, before doing it again and again..till your all red and sore. maybe you'll get more later..maybe.

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Updated: November 14, 2024

Reworked Character #1: Marco Rossi

POTENTIAL TRIGGER: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to neglect, self-harm, alcoholism, SA, death, and torture.

Real name: Marchrius Dennis Rossi

Alias: Intelligent Soldier

Occupation: Major of the P.F. Squad

Retirement plans: Become a mechatronics engineer, foster a bunch of kittens, and start a company that designs and develops functional computer models, artificial intelligence, and cybersecurity programs for both military and civilian usage

Special skills: Proficiency in lightweight firearms, mechatronics engineering, computer science, intimidation tactics, and drunken-style boxing

Hobbies: Creating artificial intelligence and technological viruses from scratch, calculating complex mathematical equations and running times of computer programs in his head, taking naps at his desk, completing crossword puzzles, and stargazing

Likes: Cat cafes, maintaining his manliness, his quick mental calculation, going on smoke breaks with Tarma, Eri, and Tequila, and subway rides where there are little to no people around him

Dislikes: Large lines in front of restaurants, being wrongfully distracted from work, spending vast quantities of time away from Perifa and Midori, computer crashes paired with slow Internet, and torture

Favourite food: Chinese noodles (preferably its mildly spicy) and barbecued burgers and hotdogs with onions and honey-flavoured carrots

Sexuality: Sex-repulsed, aromantic asexual

Gender: Male

Age: 17 (in 2022), 23 (in 2028), 25 (in 2030), 27 (in 2032), 29 (in 2034), 36 (in 2041), 38 (in 2043), 39 (in 2044), and 42 (in 2047)

Blood type: A-

Weight: 162 lbs. (73.48 cm)

Design: He's a 5' 7" (170.18 cm) Italian-American ectomorph with an average musculature, broad shoulders, ivory skin, a cleft chin, and dull turquoise eyes. Marco sports wavy strawberry blonde hair, characterised by a large forelock that falls to the tip of his nose on the right side. On the left, two short, thick strands with subtle waves curve gracefully above his eyebrow. His features are further accentuated by well-groomed sideburns and a neatly trimmed chinstrap beard.

He bears occasional dark circles under his eyes and a distinctive glass left eye in a lighter turquoise hue. He has accumulated several battle scars: a few stab wounds on his right shoulder; vertical cuts on his chest; a deep slice mark extending from the left side of his nose bridge to the back of his trapezius muscle; multiple lacerations and severe burns on his back; a large patch of scar tissue on his right lumbar region; and bullet wounds on both calves and one on his left thigh. To cope with his emotional pain, he has a history of self-harm, which has resulted in the horizontal scars visible on his right forearm, hips, and inner thighs.

He's well-known for his cutting-edge, cybernetic left arm crafted from sleek, high-strength metallic alloys and advanced, artificially intelligent flexi-circuits, allowing for enhanced strength, agility, dexterity, and precision. It also has micro-sensors and neural interfaces seamlessly integrating with Marco’s nervous system for intuitive control. It possesses a high-strength, serrated blade made of tungsten, capable of extending up to 12 inches (30.48 cm) from the forearm. It can temporarily deploy an energy shield that surrounds him, providing protection from incoming attacks. This shield is powered by advanced capacitors and optimised for maximum efficiency using AI technology.

Marco's military gear consists of a white headband, a metal dog tag necklace with his name, and a platinum grey sleeveless shirt. He wears a crimson vest with four pockets and an embroidered logo of the P.F. Squad on the back, alongside khaki-green army cargo pants tucked into his olive green paratrooper boots. He also wears a leather belt with a snap-on silver buckle, mahogany gloves, a sheath for his combat knife, and a gun holster for his trusty handgun. The pockets of Marco's army cargo pants carry two boxes of cigars, while his vest contains a gilded lighter he found in Gerhardt City, a black case for his garnet-hued reading glasses, and an old photograph of pre-teen him, his father, and his childhood cat on a leash at a park during autumn.

Over his shirt, he wears a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries his walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. His right forearm is wrapped in worn gauze, and he wears two black bandoliers that form an X-shape, holding bullets for his handgun. Marco carries a khaki-green load-bearing backpack containing camping equipment, tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, a Gatling shot, and a thunder shot. He's always carrying around a red-orange laptop adorned with a bronze circle on the lid, housing a black six-pointed star at its centre. This custom laptop serves as his mobile command centre, where he develops malware to breach enemy cybersecurity, tackles various classified technological assignments for the military, and works on personal software projects.

He wears his father's circular, gilded watch on his right wrist, using it to check the time as a reminder of his father's enduring presence and an opportunity to seek guidance from the past. The timepiece features an ivory dial with burgundy hands and black Roman numerals from I to XII, interspersed with four thin etchings. Additional details include a secondary display bar showing the time and AM/PM indicator, while a leather strap is secured with a matching gold buckle.

Character summary: He's a charismatic and cautious leader who takes immense pride in his high intellect, computer expertise, and masculinity. He's a self-reliant introvert who prefers to accept help and emotional support from others when absolutely necessary. His stoic demeanour is a constant, making it challenging for him to show humour or vulnerability. Due to being a workaholic, he has developed a harmful habit of neglecting his own basic needs, including eating when necessary. He mainly struggles with loneliness because he finds it difficult to form meaningful connections due to his exceptionally high intellect, which can make it challenging for others who may not be able to keep up with his level of understanding. He also struggles with major depressive disorder, trust issues, a fear of abandonment, and unresolved trauma stemming from past experiences. While Marco tends to internalise his emotions, he has learned to open up to trusted individuals when his burdens become too overwhelming to bear alone.

Despite his gentle and taciturn nature, he's capable of being ruthless and will fly into a deep rage when General Morden's name is mentioned near him. When interrogating others, he employs a menacing tone, his aloof demeanour making those on the receiving end feel uneasy and intimidated. He doesn't hesitate to wield threats of violence or exploit vulnerabilities, and with Trevor by his side, his intimidation factor is amplified. He's a socially awkward loner who doesn't tolerate distractions and has a strong fear of losing his current friends.

When experiencing great distress in relation to past trauma, he's prone to having a full-blown mental breakdown and indulging in suicidal ideation. Marco tends to get stressed easily, which has led to him developing a chain-smoking habit. He privately grapples with self-harm and binge drinking, often consuming multiple beers at once, while concealing his struggles with alcoholism and suicidal thoughts from those around him. He attempts to conceal his struggles with alcoholism by either excessively partying or withdrawing socially, and privately harms himself due to his reluctance to burden others or cause unnecessary concern. Additionally, he struggles with denial, finding it difficult to accept the loss of his father and former war comrades, and resisting the idea that he needs professional mental health support.

He has a dry sense of humour that he rarely showcases, and when he does, his witty remarks often blend English and Italian. Having learned some Japanese from Tarma and Eri, he occasionally sprinkles Japanese phrases into his jokes. He deeply cares about his friends and will stop at nothing to protect them, even if it means putting his own life at risk. He finds great comfort in the presence of his best friend, Tarma, thanks to his breezy and optimistic attitude. Although he doesn't always show it, he genuinely enjoys Tarma's jokes and appreciates listening to them, even if they occasionally test his patience. Additionally, he cherishes his calico shorthair cat, Perifa, a heartwarming birthday gift he received from Fio prior to the Survival Island Occupation.

He’s in a polyamorous queerplatonic relationship with Fio and Tarma, a bond that satisfies his deep-seated longing for emotional intimacy. He’s close friends with Trevor, regularly mentoring him in computer skills like reading binary code and enjoying social time together, but their occasional marijuana use has raised concerns due to Marco's pre-existing unhealthy smoking habits. He holds Tequila in high esteem, recognizing his pivotal contributions to the success of the Regular Army and S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. special forces unit. He deeply values his wisdom, open-mindedness, fatherly demeanour, and exceptional covert agent skills. He dislikes accompanying Nadia on shopping trips because her constant meddling and overly inquisitive nature frustrate him.

Having never experienced raising children, he had always doubted his ability to provide love and be a good parental figure, consumed as he was by his own interests and mental health issues. But everything changed on Christmas, in the aftermath of the Unforeseen Invader Conquest, when he adopted an abandoned baby girl with striking features: pinkish-orange hair streaked with pale blonde and bright teal eyes flecked with dark brown. With the guidance and support of his friends, he discovered valuable parenting skills and named his new daughter Midori. He transformed into a loving, supportive, and overprotective father, dedicated to ensuring her happiness and safety. He made it a point to offer wise advice, hoping to spare her from his own past mistakes.

He found immense joy in watching Midori form close bonds with his friends, affectionately regarding them as uncles, aunts, and grandparents. Her friendship with Pocke, Walter's adoptive son and a Martian infant, brought him equal delight. He was particularly grateful for the ways his friends nurtured Midori's passions: Tarma and Alisa encouraged her interest in engineering, while Walter and Trevor fostered her love of music. He can't imagine a world without his adoptive daughter, who has brought him a new sense of purpose and motivated him to overcome his personal hardships.

He often mistakes Sophia Greenville for his mother due to their similar appearance, and he's always embarrassed when he accidentally calls her "mom”. Nevertheless, he's deeply grateful for the maternal affection she shows him, treating him like a son and unknowingly becoming the kind of mother he wishes he had. He finds comfort in spending quality time with his cat, affectionately referred to as his "dramatic little princess”. He enjoys engaging in playtime, giving gentle pets, and even using soothing baby talk to calm his feline companion. He's easily offended by people who rudely insult cats, going as far as to comfort the insulted feline and silently glaring at the person who uttered such words.

Whenever he's had too much to drink, he starts to act rowdy, easy-going, overly affectionate, and clingy. When sexual activity is mentioned, he reacts with extreme discomfort as he finds it to be disgusting. He’ll either become nauseous or start gagging, displaying expressions of strong distaste towards the person discussing the topic. If he unexpectedly encounters someone engaging in sexual activity, he often experiences a panic attack, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed. In such situations, he usually tries to seek comfort and support from a trusted individual to talk to and receive a reassuring hug. This experience may also trigger unpleasant thoughts related to sexual matters, leading him to fear that he's somehow perverted and disgusting. He'll only lose his temper with others if they say something extremely rude to him or his friends, intend to hurt his loved ones or tell him blatant lies. Although he tends to have a pessimistic outlook on life, he sometimes manages to see the brighter side of things. 

He has a sleepwalking habit, often accompanied by vivid dreams of fighting or killing someone, which greatly annoys and frightens Tarma, who’s frequently the target of these nocturnal episodes. He resents being hailed as a war hero due to his intense aversion to fame and his conviction that conflict should prompt sombre reflection, not glorification. He dislikes flirtatious advances and has low tolerance for complaining, bullying or excessive talking, which can trigger irritability and extreme defensiveness. He feels uneasy with romantic inquiries and is secretly intimidated by Gimlet, whose rape threats, relentless verbal aggression, and frequent heated confrontations leave him on edge. He has a commanding presence that demands respect, and his consistently serious demeanour can make him seem intimidating and unapproachable to others.

He's incredibly introspective and prone to questioning the intentions of his friends and his own worthiness of having meaningful friendships. He defines his masculinity by embodying traits like physical strength, courage, independence, leadership, and assertiveness. However, he makes a conscious effort to avoid toxic masculinity by ensuring his behaviour doesn't harm others' feelings or self-worth. Despite this balanced approach, he admits to having some vanity regarding specific issues he considers unbefitting of his ideal masculinity, such as sagging pants and carrying toys, as he sees these as detrimental to personal dignity. Whenever he encounters a pair of glowing red eyes, he's either deeply unsettled or irresistibly drawn to them, captivated by their aura of curiosity and command. This hesitant fascination occasionally leads him to wander aimlessly until it directs him to a destination of its choosing.

He's a consequentialist who believes that all life forms are more capable of destruction, ultimately prevailing the act of creation. He also believes that all conflicts are gradually moving towards the equitable unification and collective strength of humanity. In his perspective, it'll pave the way for a new era free from violence, hate, and political corruption.

Backstory: Marchrius Dennis Rossi was born on April 13, 2005 in Twin Falls, Idaho, United States. Marco's mother, Katalina, was a researcher for a secret government project, and his father, Salvatore Rossi, was stuck in a dead-end office job. His parents had a distant relationship and had Marco, hoping that a child would bring them closer together and fix their broken marriage, but they often ignored each other and argued. Katalina had never wanted Marco, viewing him as an unplanned consequence and a responsibility that hindered her career. His father provided unwavering support and care, while his mother was neglectful and emotionally absent, hiding her true behaviour behind closed doors. But despite this, Marco shocked his parents by exhibiting a fast-growing intelligence at a very young age.

From the moment he opened his eyes, he muttered his first word, "daddy". He learned how to walk at 3 months old and showed advanced motor skills by 5 and a half months. He skipped object permanence altogether and completed his first crossword puzzle at just 1 year old, astonishingly understanding political terms. By the age of 2, he had memorised all 50 U.S. states and read two books in their entirety, demonstrating a profound understanding of their documented subjects: moral philosophy and psychoanalysis. By 4, he was answering calculus-level questions and describing his feelings about endangered animals in zoos with sophisticated vocabulary.

From the age of 2, he would occasionally see a pair of glowing red eyes in darkened corners or places drenched in darkness. He described them as always watching him and swore that they belonged to a living, breathing creature that seamlessly blended into the darkness. When he turned 5, he created an imaginary friend as an excuse to enjoy his alone time and avoid befriending the children who frequented the local park. This imaginary friend was named "Jubby", and Marco often drew him, depicting him as an anthropomorphic snow leopard with golden eagle wings, Komodo dragon legs, and a face covered in a ball of black scribbles.

Before he turned 6, his neglectful mother, Katalina, grew fed up with how "weird" he was. She was also annoyed by his persistent fear of a glowing pair of red eyes that watched him occasionally and his uninterested attitude towards forming connections. While Salvatore was away from home, Katalina took matters into her own hands and packed her belongings. Before leaving, she noticed Marco standing before the basement door, which was wide open. She investigated and saw the same glowing pair of red eyes, which terrified her.

Believing that Marco was attracting an evil spirit, she pushed him down the basement stairs and locked the door, hoping to contain the perceived threat. Abandoning Marco, she left the house, leaving him absolutely terrified. Marco attempted to cope with the trauma by conjuring up Jubby, but he claimed that his imaginary friend never came to his aid. This painful realisation marked the day he began to harbour resentment towards his mother, feeling unappreciated, unloved, and viewed as a burdensome presence in her life. When Salvatore returned home and discovered that Marco was trapped in the basement by Katalina, he was infuriated. His father attempted to track down Katalina, but it was too late. This traumatic event instilled in him a lasting fear of heading down into dark basements alone.

During his time in grade 1, Marco struggled to make friends and often looked sad when he saw other children with their mothers, a concern his father noticed. To cheer him up, his father brought home a Turkish Angora with a black, orange, and white fur coat, which sparked Marco's love for felines. As a result of his childhood cat's fondness for eating bugs, he affectionately named her Grubley. At the age of five, his father introduced him to the world of computing, igniting a passion for computer science that would last a lifetime. Salvatore was always supportive of Marco and his passions, encouraging him to excel in school, chase his dreams, and make the most of the opportunities life has to offer.

Marco knew he had an uncle, but his father forbade him from seeing him. Salvatore had warned him that his uncle was untrustworthy due to his con artist lifestyle and struggled with alcoholism. However, he was permitted to visit his aunt and grandparents, who were incredibly kind. They encouraged him to appreciate nature and the simple things in life, rather than spending all his time on the computer. He has fond memories of his grandfather teaching him how to barbecue. His grandmother, an immigrant from Italy, taught him some Italian and often shared photographs she had taken in her home country before moving to the United States.

His father unknowingly sparked his interest in the Tuatha Dé Danann, an ancient race of demigods that existed before all life, and two antediluvian places, Atlantis and Ultima Thule. He would silently observe his father spend a short amount of time researching these fascinating topics when not working. Marco would eventually discover that he has a slight hint of Tuatha Dé Danann DNA, leading him to wonder if others might also have ancestral ties tracing back to the Hadean Eon.

He was bullied by many students for being perceived as "friendless" and for having an abnormally high intelligence, leaving him feeling isolated. A few students attempted to befriend him, but he rebuffed their efforts, fearing they would eventually abandon him. He also struggled to connect with them on an intellectual level, feeling like an outsider. During high school, he was involved in a few physical altercations, but he typically managed to defuse the situations with his words or, if necessary, defend himself relentlessly. In his spare time, he mastered the unconventional art of drunken-style boxing, giving him an edge in self-defence. Despite his school troubles, he excelled in all his classes and achieved outstanding grades in mathematics and computer science courses.

Before graduating from a state technical high school, Salvatore died due to health complications caused by Huntington's disease. Shortly after, Marco's beloved cat, Grubley, peacefully passed away in her sleep. Marco was devastated by these losses, compounded by the shocking revelation that his father had been secretly battling Huntington's disease without ever sharing his struggle with him. The last gift his father gave him was a red-orange laptop, which was intended to be a graduation present. Rather than letting the tragedy consume him, he transformed his grief into a driving force, cultivating resilience and independence. To move forward, he made the difficult decision to distance himself from his remaining family, seeking to leave the past behind and forge a new path.

He began developing artificial intelligence to engage in online debates and sophisticated computer software, including anti-viruses and error-checking tools, as a means to earn a living and hone his programming skills. He went so far as to meticulously rebuild and upgrade the desktop computer in his father's old office at home, enhancing both its design and performance. Marco decided to attend officer's school at the Academy of Special Technologies and subsequently joined the prestigious Peregrine Falcons Squad shortly after graduation.

Unlike many of his peers, he quickly distinguished himself through his exceptional leadership skills and computer expertise, earning him a spot as 1st Lieutenant of the P.F. Squad. This was also when he met Tarma, forming a fast friendship after discussing their interests, reminiscing on their childhoods, and having a couple of beers. Tarma was his first real friend, whom he holds dear, despite viewing him as a “maniacal gearhead”. Through his friendship with Tarma, he discovered the value of having friends and stepped out of his comfort zone to befriend the other members of the P.F. Squad and Regular Army. He would also gradually develop a queerplatonic relationship with Tarma as he deeply cherished their friendship and came to realise that it filled a void of emotional intimacy left by his father's passing.

During his time in the P.F. Squad, Marco created a computer virus for fun, which inadvertently spread to the Regular Army's mainframe server. The virus destroyed several security systems, compromised the lowest echelons of the Regular Army, and nearly triggered the launch of a nuclear missile. Fortunately, a military scout named Trevor, whom Marco would meet years later during his recruitment into the P.F. Squad, managed to stop it. Marco refuses to discuss this potentially disastrous incident, even after a few too many beers.

When the Amadeus Syndicate served as the scientific and medical branch of the Regular Army, Marco met Doctor Amadeus, the organisation's founder and Nadia's clone mother. They had a cordial relationship, and Doctor Amadeus was particularly impressed by Marco's exceptional computer skills. She wanted to utilise his talents for a bioengineering experiment, aiming to create super soldiers using abandoned Martian and Invader technology.

During a battle against a terrorist attack, Marco suffered severe injuries and was taken to one of the original Amadeus Syndicate's medical facilities to recover. Doctor Amadeus seized this opportunity to force herself upon him to collect semen and DNA samples, leaving him deeply traumatised. The experience was so distressing that Marco tried to suppress the memory, inadvertently forgetting much of the history and purpose of the Amadeus Syndicate in the process. He also swore his revenge to kill Doctor Amadeus one day for what she did to him. As a result of this event, he began to act strangely anxious and slightly aggressive when in a hospital or near Nadia for prolonged periods of time.

During the first coup led by General Morden, he scraped together the remnants of the Regular Army government forces to reassemble the P.F. Squad. He became the leader of the governmental resistance against General Morden but at a great cost. As he, his comrades, and his friends were approaching the last known base of the Rebel Army, disaster struck. General Morden and his soldiers ambushed them, seizing the opportunity to decimate the remnants of the P.F. Squad, leaving Marco with mental and physical scars that would haunt him forever. 

Marco endured unimaginable suffering at the hands of General Morden, Allen O'Neil, and the Rebel soldiers, who brutally tortured him, gouged out his left eye, and severed his left arm. After experiencing a strange tingling sensation of familiarity, General Morden realised that Marco possessed Tuatha Dé Danann heritage. Intrigued, he discreetly collected DNA samples from Marco, which would later be utilised by the Amadeus Syndicate for experimentation in bioengineering and advanced military technology. The cruelty continued as Morden forced Marco to witness the slaughter and torture of his comrades and friends. Devastated by the losses and horrors he experienced, Marco teetered on the brink of giving up. He was even convinced that his best friend, Tarma, had perished, plunging him into a deep depression. 

However, Tarma managed to escape the Rebel Army's clutches and staged a daring rescue, reuniting with Marco. With Tarma's emotional support and his own newfound rage, Marco found the strength to keep fighting. Before confronting General Morden, Tarma constructed his prosthetic left arm using technological debris and cutting-edge medical technology available to the Regular Army. However, it took him a couple of weeks to adapt to his new limb. Together, they became legendary heroes, ultimately defeating Morden and restoring world peace. Marco's bravery earned him the rank of Major, but he soon grew to resent his war hero status as he realised that the media often glorifies conflict.

Marco continued to lead the P.F. Squad together with Tarma, who is the true linchpin of the elite task force of the Regular Army. Marco joined forces with Tarma, Fio, and Eri for a second mission to thwart General Morden's second coup. Although the mission technically failed, as they captured a Martian troop from the Pipovulaj Army disguised as General Morden, the Regular Army's higher-ups deemed it a success nonetheless. This moment got on Marco's nerves as he deeply desired to see General Morden brought to justice and face the full consequences of his actions.

Following this success, Marco attempted to resign, but his higher-ups quickly denied his request. They insisted on his participation in a mission to eliminate the remaining remnants of the Rebel Army and other operations addressing threats to global peace such as the Pipovulaj Army.

[puppy-pie]

Hello! :3

I'm unsure if I should really even be asking this, but I am personally curious about petplay? I have been leaning towards getting into it, and I feel ashamed of myself about it, and I was looking to see if someone could possibly just give a little intel on it and stumbled across your blog!

-⚰️🪷 anon (if anyone hasn't claimed it already)

Omg hiiii! First of all I just wanna tell you love, you’re my first claimed anon! So congrats!!

Second off, I wanna say that pet play is such a BROAD kink there’s no “correct” way to answer your question! I highly advise you to do more research than what I answer :] if you’d like more specifics just let me know! I’ll post something more in depth!!

So, to break it down more simply, pet play is just another form of dominant/submissive kink (doesn’t always have to be, but commonly is! It’s totally alright to have dom on dom or sub on sub stuff as well!) It’s a type of relationship where one (or more) partners will take on a more animalistic role/trait abt themselves! Most relationships will take on an owner/pet relationship, where the owner has a more dominant role over their submissive pet. Like I said, there are variants of pet play relationships though, so research up!

Pet play comes in varying degrees of…hm I guess intensity? Some people are more strict in their versions, whereas other people prefer a relaxed style. Since pet play is a ROLE there isn’t really a limit to what is and isn’t allowed in it. Popular pet roles include puppies, kittens, bunnies, ponies, and even cows! To some, simplistic dominant/submissive roleplay with pet like terms is good, to others dressing as full leather/latex adorned puppies is their schtick. It’s all up to personal opinion! There’s plenty of costumes, gear, and accessories to help aspiring pet players find what they wish to engage in. Me personally, I consider myself about a mid-level pet player. I like tails and ears, I like leashes and muzzles, and I absolutely adore being called and treated as a puppy. Many pet players will also use real pet items, such as food dishes or crates/kennels, to enhance their experience.

Another thing abt it is that pet play can be paired with other kinks! I myself have quite a few tacked on there, they’re listed in my pinned post if you’d like to see! Behavior and reward/punishment are common in pet play, so is praise, lots of stuff really! Once again it’s just a matter of preference!!

Now, let’s get to what pet play is NOT:

- Pet Play is not beastiality

- Pet Play is not inherently furry centered (though you can be both!!)

- Pet Play is not gross

All scenes and relationships within pet play should be consensual, of age, and made with firm expression of boundaries and limits. Please remember that you have the right to change your mind when experimenting with pet play AT ANY TIME. Your consent is YOURS. It is important. And don’t feel ashamed honey! It’s perfectly natural to explore kink and to explore a more��how you say….carnal side of yourself! The community is wide and accepting, I’m sure you’ll find something to fit you!

Please let me know if you’d like a further in depth explanation from my end on any of the above topics, or if you need any help! Love you hun! Happy exploring 💖

[chillis-woof-stuff]

Black leather collar with purple napa lining and black hardware. 💜🦴🖤

[moonleet]

oooh ooh! For the agere ask game if it’s ok to do multiple numbers I just love your astarion stuff and i want to hear everything about your take on him, so astarion with 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 11, 12, 13, 15 and/or 18?

thank you for the ask! this was a lot of fun - everythings under the cut!

do they have a specific age or range they regress to, or do they just go off vibes?

i see astarion as a baby to a toddler regressor! however i don't think he's solidly within a particular age range - like, he'll value his independence and understand (and participate in!) snarky remarks, but he also likes being coddled and is super super clingy ehe 🪄

is their regression more voluntary or involuntary? do they ever regress without realizing it?

very involuntary i think. he's a bit too prideful to ask someone to take care of him - and, he tends to push himself until he doesn't have a choice in regressing, poor guy :( i think he sometimes regresses without realizing, usually when he realizes he's safe with tav and gang

are they a stuffie or a blankie kid? both? neither?

neither! this is super specific, but i think he is just enamored with a beautiful carved wooden horse and carriage that he can pull behind him with a string! my tav, miya, got it for him bc miya liked the design, and astarion takes that thing with him eeeeeverywhere xP

in what ways are they different when they're regressed? do aspects of their personality or interests change at all? are they similar to how they were when they were an actual kid, or completely different?

i think astarion, regressed, isn't too similar to how he was when he was actually a kid. he feels fundamentally changed by what happened to him, and it's reflected in his regression: he's a lot more sensitive, which he expresses by being rather bratty for a while before he warms up and allows himself to be clingy and take all the warmth everyone offers him!

do they have any regression gear (teethers, pacifiers, diapers, specific toys or outfits, etc.)? do they try to hide it from friends/family?

i think he's a padded regressor! he also has a tendency to chew on things like a teething kitten. miya has hand-constructed a wrap out of softish leather and cloth that can withstand his teeth, after finding too many puncture marks in his sleeves ssjdjdjskdk. otherwise, astarion usually just dresses in his camp clothes. even baby, he cares about looking good 🪄

do they fall into any 'regressor stereotypes' (baby talk, loving disney movies, liking pastels, etc.), or do they diverge from the 'norm' (liking horror media, regressing to an older age, etc.)?

his biggest stereotype is being clingy: he demands attention at all times!!! i think he diverges pretty strongly in that he speaks mostly the same as he does not regressed, albeit with a small lisp, and can be a real smartass about things that displease him shdjfjdjsjd

do they have any specific nicknames for when they regress? how about nicknames they've given to their caregiver(s) or friends?

miya calls him "darling," karlach calls him "baby bat" and "mr. teeth," and i think halsin calls him "little cub"! and astarion calls miya "mama" (miya is a man btw!!! astarion just calls him that), karlach "mama k", and halsin "papa"

what do they like to do when they're regressed? do they like to play pretend, watch tv/movies, color, etc.?

he likes pulling around his toy carriage and generally just hovering around people and watching them! with people he's closer to, like miya and karlach, astarion enjoys a good snuggle (with permission from him) and a nice book! none of those stories for babies, though, he has discerning tastes (miya once read aloud to him directly from his grimoire and astarion never fell asleep quicker)

what do they wear when they're regressed? do they have specific clothes, or do they just wear whatever is most comfortable? do they have a comfort article of clothing?

just his regular degular camp clothes! although he'll steal clothes from his carers to make a nest, sometimes :3

do they prefer to play indoors or outdoors? do they get upset when it rains?

indoors for sure!! astarion actually quite likes the rain (from the coziness of a dry inn or tent). it's soothing to him :3

do they take naps? if so, do they take them at a specific time, or just nap whenever they feel like it? do they get fussy over having to take one?

elves don't really nap! but miya definitely schedules in "mandatory" meditation time - astarion is annoyed at first, but as it turns out meditating is so cozy when you're being cradled against someone's chest and you can feel their warmth and heartbeat... :3

[shipmistress9]

ShipMistress' Fourth Wing Masterpost

Find my other fanfictions here or on AO3. 

If you end up reading any of my (older) fics: I’d LOVE to get feedback, comments, reviews, reactions. 💜

* Updates

Home (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- t-rated

After months of separation, Violet and Xaden meet again when they least expect it. Just a short ficlet based on a kissing prompt from Tumblr.

In Control (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated -- D/s dynamics

“Don’t lie to me, Violence,” he murmurs as he tugs a strand of hair back into my loose braid. “This only works if you’re completely honest about how you feel, with me but also with yourself.” Once, Xaden didn't want Violet to take a look into his armoire, and she joked that she already knew all of his clothes. Little did she know about what he really kept hidden there. Further down their relationship, Xaden eventually shows her his collection of sex toys and bondage gear, and Violet is more than just a little intrigued. But... she brave enough to give up control?

“I don’t want to think.” (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated

In the days after the events of Fourth Wing, Xaden suffers an intense kind of longing he never knew before as Violet refuses to talk to him. But as it seems, she can't stay away from him forever, either.

A Soft Reunion (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated

After spending months infiltrating Basgiath, Violet returns to Aretia, to Xaden, only to find that he's been attacked by venin and has been unconscious for days.

Kinktober collection

Not Playing Fair (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated

Xaden uses his shadow powers to tease Violet until neither of them can resist the temptation anymore.

Leather-clad Temptation (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated

One day, Violet Sorrengail will be the death of me. But maybe, if death comes in thigh-high boots then it might not be such a bad thing.

Little Kitten (AO3)

Xaden/Violet -- E-rated

Sometimes, Violet needs her head to stop thinking and stop going in circles. Luckily, Xaden provided her with just the perfect way to accomplish that.

Part of our "Us" (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Liam/Xaden -- E-rated

“Look, Liam. Obviously, I’m not here as your Wingleader. This is not an order. It’s not even a request. It’s an offer and nothing more. If you’re interested, great. If not, no hard feelings. It’s entirely up to you.” Yeah, right. I scoff. As if he can invite me to a fucking threesome and think it wouldn’t change anything between us. Back when living in Tirvainne, Xaden and Liam were closer than anyone knows or even guesses. Now at Basgiath, Liam isn't sure what to expect when Xaden invites him to a threesome with Violet. It's not that much different from what they used to do--except maybe that Liam's feelings for both of them grew far beyond friendship by now. In which Liam slowly learns to overcome his insecurities--and maybe finds more than just hot sex.

Stranger In The Woods (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violet - E-rated

What if Tyrrendor's rebellion was successful? What if Xaden became a Gryphon flier instead of a Dragon rider? What if the bond that tethered Violet and him together still existed? Sometimes, the attraction one feels toward a stranger-an enemy even-can be too strong to resist. Or... is it all just a game?

An Unconventional Solution (AO3)

Violet/Tairn - E-rated

To keep her promise to Liam, Violet has to return to Basgiath, the one place Xaden, marked as a traitor and enemy #1, can't follow. But how can they pull that off without straining the bonds between them and their dragons? Tairn offers a solution--albeit a rather unconventional one...

How To Make It Fit (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Liam/Xaden - E-rated

Continuation of Part of our "Us". Liam followed Xaden's and Violet's invitation to join them for a threesome. He's not so sure Violet can actually take both his and Xaden's cock at the same time, but if it's what she wants... He surely won't go and tell her what she can or can't do.

Intense (AO3)

Xaden/Violet - E-rated - Rape/Non-con elements /cnc

Violet wants to try something new, and even though Xaden is hesitant, he agrees… In the dark of the night, Violet gets kidnapped by a masked stranger, drugged, and brought to an unused storage cellar. Will she be able to hold out until rescue comes or will he break her having his way with her?

Teasing With Serious Consequences (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violer - E-rated

Violet is set on getting Xaden to fuck her, no matter how much she has to tease him before he snaps.

Making Up For Missed Opportunities (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Liam - E-rated

After the night Liam spent with Xaden and Violet, he wonders whether he'd enjoy getting Dominated by Xaden, too. Xaden promises him nothing short of the best orgasm of his life.

An Entertaining Inconvenience (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violet - E-rated

When a leadership meeting interrupts Xaden and Violet in the middle of their fun, Violet comes up with a creative idea to make the best of the situation. And the best it is, insane, daring, and just... incredibly hot. Xaden learns a new thing or two. One, a few new tricks he can do with his shadows, and two, how much unresolved tension he can take before he cracks.

Easing Tension And Worries (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Liam - E-rated

After the night they spent together as three and the one Liam spent with Xaden, the sexual tension between Liam and Violet grows stronger with every day. Something has to give, and soon. But will he finally be able to accept that they want him for more than just sex?

Serious Consequences (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Xaden - E-rated

This is the continuation of "Teasing With Serious Consequences" (obviously, haha, I think I'm being funny 😁). After teasing Xaden all day, Violet might push her luck a little too far. Although, given how much she enjoys her 'punishment', that might not be such a bad thing.

The Betrayed God (AO3)

Violet/Xaden -- Violet/Malek T-rated

The legends talk about three brothers and about oneof them betraying them all. But that is only half of the story. The darker half is yet to be told. Setup for a story in which Xaden is Malek trapped in a human body and Violet his lost bride.

Some Things Will Never Change (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Xaden - T-rated

Just a soft morning, years after the events of the books.

My Kingdom. My Throne. My Queen. (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Xaden - M-rated

What if venin didn't exist and the only problems Xaden and Violet had to deal with were normal ones? After winning Tyrrendor's independence, the Assembly forces Xaden to make a difficult choice. But even though the Assembly doesn't want to see it, it's Violet's choice, too.

* Nothing to Hide (AO3) (Tumblr)

Violet/Liam/Xaden - T-rated

It's Liam’s birthday. And Violet and Xaden have their own idea of giving him a birthday gift. After all, they have nothing to hide. Or: The triad kissing meme turned into a fic. 😊

* For whatever it's worth (AO3) (Tumblr)

Liam/Xaden - E-rated

The morning after the night Liam spent with Xaden and letting him Dominate him. Now, Xaden finally has his mind clear enough to examine his feelings. And he's done holding them back.

* What's a Threeps (AO3)

Violet/Liam/Xaden - M-rated

Liam survived Resson and everyone celebrates after graduation. Xaden still has to leave for Samara, though, but at least that gives them the weekends to look forward to. A short written for the rq-discord's challenge prompt.

* I don't believe in the Gods anymore (AO3)

Xaden/Violet - T-rated

After another too-short night, Xaden has to leave for another patrol. This is just some andom short because I felt crying, okay?

* Made to Order (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violet - T-rated

Xaden Riorson owns a bakery specialised on wedding cakes. He's good at his job, always has an eye for details and with a sixth sense for what it is his customers are looking for. But when a woman clearly not happy with the upcoming wedding breeezes into his shop (and his life) he has a hard time staying professional.

* Fool me once... - A 'Made to Order' story (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violet - M-rated

Six months have passed since 'the wedding'. Violet and Xaden are happy together, have grown into their relationship, and are about to take the next step. Then another formal even brings back bad memories for Violet, and she finally confides into Xaden about what happened all those months ago.

* Drunk on You - A 'Made to Order' story (AO3) (Tumblr)

Xaden/Violet - M-rated

Violet and Xaden spend the night after the wedding together, and there's a lot of pent-up longing to work through. -- This story takes place directly after the end of the main story. I recommend reading the precious parts of the series before this one, but I guess it's not strictly neccessary. Violet and Xaden spend the night after the wedding together, and there's a lot of pent-up longing to work through. -- This story takes place directly after the end of the main story. I recommend reading the precious parts of the series before this one, but I guess it's not strictly neccessary.

* It Was Never Supposed To Be (AO3) (Tumblr)

Imogen/Dain - T-rated

Dain and Imogen are more than just squadmates. Their first months, challenges, the gauntlet, and threshing made a spark develop between them, one neither of them can resist. But when Dain's signet develops in a moment of intimacy and he sees a memory he shouldn't have seen, Imogen is left with only one choice. Kill the man who is slowly becoming more than just a friend to her, or everything is lost. Or… is there an alternative?

[bitter69uk]

Released on this day 33 years ago (13 May 1991): “Kiss Them for Me” by life-changing veteran British punk band Siouxsie and the Banshees. Musically, the bewitching first single from the Banshees’ Superstition record (their tenth studio album, issued on 10 June 1991) is a danceable jasmine-scented swirl of psychedelic exotica with a pronounced Asian influence (Talvin Singh plays tablas on it), while the lyrics offer a twisted valentine to Hollywood’s ill-fated sex kitten-gone-berserk Jayne Mansfield. (The title references Mansfield’s 1957 film Kiss Them for Me). “It's divoon / Oh, it's serene / In the fountains pink champagne / Someone carving their devotion / In the heart-shaped pool of fame” Siouxsie coos, sketching-out Mansfield’s commitment to glamour and publicity at her legendary Pink Palace and culminating in her 1967 death in a car crash (“On the road to New Orleans / A spray of stars hit the screen / As the tenth impact shimmered / The forbidden candles beamed …”). “Kiss Them for Me” scored the Banshees their biggest US chart hit (around this time they joined the first Lollapalooza tour, which significantly boosted their profile stateside). The stylish art-y video - seemingly inspired by the cinema of Kenneth Anger and Jean Cocteau - featured a pink poodle, popping champagne corks, palm trees, golden cherubs, the male band members sporting menacing leather biker gear (very Scorpio Rising) and Siouxsie frolicking in a fountain. It justifiably received heavy rotation on MTV (and on MuchMusic in Canada, which is where I would have seen it). Now sing along with me! “No party she'd not attend / No invitation she wouldn't send …”

[page-2-ids]

[ID 1: A flag with nine horizontal stripes, the second and eighth are twice the height of the others. The colors are darker at the edges and lighter in the middle. They are, from top to bottom, black, very dark gray, washed-out purple, washed-out violet, dusty pink-salmon, washed-out violet, washed-out purple, very dark gray, and black. END ID]

[ID 2: A flag with nine horizontal stripes; the second, middle, and eighth are twice the height of the others. The colors are darker at the edges and lighter in the middle. They are, from top to bottom, black, very dark gray, washed-out purple, washed-out violet, dusty pink-salmon, washed-out violet, washed-out purple, very dark gray, and black. END ID]

Degratus/Degritus: A gender related to promiscuity, sex, bdsm, degradation kink, degradation kink names, leather kink gear, leather bondage gear, S&M clubs, doing shots, bondage cuffs, strippers, stripping, leather jackets, and bad decisions. It may also be related to the songs Rock You Like a Hurricane by Scorpions and/or Young Lust by Pink Floyd. Some also may experience this gender through an Eroscoitus lens/as an Eroscoitus gender, though that won’t apply to all users.

The name is a mix of degr(a) from degradation and (itus) from Eroscoitus

The colors are inspired by my associations with the vibe of this term

This was for the twenty-second day of my coining event! Prompt: Rock You Like a Hurricane (Scorpions) // Young Lust (Pink Floyd)

Suggested Names and Pronouns 🔽🔽🔽

Pronouns:

G/Gear/Gear/Gears/Gearself

Ge/Gear/Gear/Gears/Gearself

Gea/Gear/Gear/Gears/Gearself

Gear/Gear/Gear/Gears/Gearself

Gear/Gear/Gears/Gears/Gearself

Ki/Kink/Kinks/Kinks/Kinkself

Kin/Kink/Kinks/Kinks/Kinkself

Kink/Kink/Kinks/Kinks/Kinkself

Le/Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leatherself

Lea/Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leatherself

Leath/Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leatherself

Leather/Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leatherself

Leather/Leather/Leathers/Leathers/Leatherself

Lus/Lust/Lusts/Lusts/Lustself

Lust/Lust/Lusts/Lusts/Lustself

Ro/Rock/Rocks/Rocks/Rockself

Roc/Rock/Rocks/Rocks/Rockself

Rock/Rock/Rocks/Rocks/Rockself

Scor/Scorpion/Scorpions/Scorpions/Scorpionself

Scorp/Scorpion/Scorpions/Scorpions/Scorpionself

Scorpi/Scorpion/Scorpions/Scorpions/Scorpionself

Scorpio/Scorpion/Scorpions/Scorpions/Scorpionself

Scorpion/Scorpion/Scorpions/Scorpions/Scorpionself

Shot/Shot/Shots/Shots/Shotself

Strip/Stripper/Stripper/Strippers/Stripperself

Stripe/Stripper/Stripper/Strippers/Stripperself

Stripp/Stripper/Stripper/Strippers/Stripperself

Stripper/Stripper/Stripper/Strippers/Stripperself

Stripper/Stripper/Strippers/Strippers/Stripperself

Names:

Ero

Eros

G

Kane

Ken

Kitten

Mace

Sady

Scorpio

Scorpion

Stud

Wolf

[girlwiththepapatattoo]

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 13

Warnings: Cazador as a warning, implied/referenced torture, teasing amongst friends, implied sex

Summary: Astarion opens up.

Notes: Yes, every time Astarion says Cazador's name it has to be italicized. You can hear the italics in Neil Newbon's performance, so in it goes lmao

I'm really happy with how this came out, honestly. It may be the last chapter until next week, as I'm gonna be on vacation for the weekend.

Enjoy everyone! <3

Read on ao3 here!

Previous Chapter | First Chapter

The hag has been dealt with, and they make it out of the swamp and back to the still-empty blighted village. The sun is setting as they trudge wearily in, and Sable makes a beeline for that same blacksmith’s forge they’d stayed in almost a week ago. 

How much things change in a week, she thinks wearily as she sets down her gear. She hears another thud of a backpack next to hers, and then lithe, leather-clad arms wind around her middle. A cool cheek presses to the top of her head. She lets her eyes flutter shut, leaning back on her vampire lover, who bears her weight without a single complaint. 

Which is unlike him, really. 

In fact, the man’s been treating her almost like spun glass for the last twenty four hours, and she’s not sure if she likes it or not. Oh, to everyone else he’s the same, snarky and witty and sarcastic. But to her? He’s gentle, hopping up whenever she needs something to grab it for her so she doesn’t have to move, helping her over difficult terrain, trying to cheer her up as best he can. It’s…sweet. 

And weird.

“Astarion,” she murmurs. “Are you going to tell me why you’ve been acting so odd today?” 

“Odd? I don’t know what you mean, darling,” he replies softly. 

“Yes you do,” she says tiredly. “You’ve been…very kind to me.” 

“My kindness is odd? What a rude thing to say! I didn’t know you had it in you, I’m almost impressed,” he replies, and though his voice is filled with his usual flippancy, there’s an undercurrent to it that sounds…uncertain. As if he’s now second-guessing everything he’s been doing the past day and a half.

She huffs, turning in his arms and pressing her forehead to his armored shoulder. “That isn’t what I meant. Thank you for taking care of me, I really do appreciate it.” 

“Well, you’re welcome. Count yourself lucky: not just anyone gets this special treatment.” He nuzzles gently into the top of her head. “Now, let's get you out of this armor. Karlach and Lae’zel should be back soon with the water. Gods I can’t wait to get somewhere with a proper tub again…” 

She smiles as his words, content to listen to him ramble on about special soaps and hair oils as his deft fingers undo the laces on her leathers. She knows he’s nervous about something; she’s noticed in the past few weeks that he gets particularly talkative when he has something to say but doesn’t really want to say it. 

“...and those suds smelled divine, kitten, and I’m not exaggerating! You’ll never want to smell like anything else again, I promise you,” he says. She’s down to her small-clothes now, and he’s pulling one of his (now three) shirts around her, to preserve her modesty when the water gets delivered. “I cannot wait to get you back to Baldur’s Gate, and have this whole debacle over with. I’m going to make sure that you’re pampered and purring, my darling lover.” 

“That sounds wonderful. Not sure I’d want anyone except you touching me…like that, but I wouldn’t say no to a private pampering. And only if I get to return the favor,” she murmurs. 

“Oh, well, yes, of course you’ll return the favor,” he replies as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Though, I may let a manicurist tend to my nails, darling. No offense, but I’ve seen how you bite your own, and I like mine much more well kept, thank you.” 

In spite of how she’s been feeling the past couple days, she starts to giggle, a sound that’s like music to his ears. “That’s not fair. I’ve done countless manicures.” 

He blinks. “Wait, really?” 

“Of course. You think nobles want their pets’ claws ripping up their floors? I’m amazing at clipping a dog’s nails. I can get it done in less than thirty seconds.” 

He gives her a flat, unimpressed look, but behind his eyes swims relief. “An impressive feat, to be sure,” he drawls, giving a playful tug to the tip of one of her ears. “But I’ll stick with the professionals.” 

There comes a sudden kick to the door. “Open up,” Lae’zel calls in her normal growl. 

“Ah, coming!” Astarion says, quickly moving to the door and opening it. He doesn’t have the chance to say anything before two buckets of water are shoved into his hands, spilling some over his boots, and the githyanki is moving back up the stairs almost before the delivery is finished. “Hmph. Be that way.” He sets one bucket down to close the door, then carries them both over. “Right! Off with the rest, my sweet.” 

Blushing very faintly, still unused to casual intimacy with anyone else, she strips off his shirt and her undergarments. “I can wash on my own, Astarion, you don’t have to-”

“I know I don’t have to,” he interrupts, though his voice is soft. “But I want to.” He strips off his own clothes, the light of the lit forge behind them casting his skin into gentle reds and oranges. He has her sit down on a nearby crate and transfers handfuls of water to wet her hair. Her eyes close as he begins to work a bar of soap through her locks. “...I…have some things to explain to you,” he says softly. “After what you did for me yesterday…well, you’re owed some answers.” 

“Look, I’ve told you before, you don’t owe me-”

“You murdered a man for me,” he says sharply, and her mouth snaps shut. “Not in the heat of battle, but in cold blood. You went against your natural instincts to protect me. I would think nothing of murdering someone like that, but not you. Yes, Sable, I owe you answers.” 

She’s not sure what to say to that. She can’t really say that he’s wrong…she just doesn’t want him to feel obligated. But he has that particular look in his eyes, the one where she knows he’ll dig in his heels. So she softens and nods to him. “All right then. Tell me whatever you want to.” 

He nods, and he’s quiet for a long moment as he gathers his words. When he does start speaking, his voice is soft, full of barely contained emotions. 

“As I’ve told you once before, I’m only a vampire spawn. Two hundred or so years ago, when I was alive, I was a magistrate in Baldur’s Gate. One night, as I was leaving a party, I was ambushed by a group of Gur, who beat me to death’s door.” Her face twists with sympathy, but he shakes his head at her. “Don’t give me that look,” he says softly, “I got better. Anyway, as I lay bleeding out, I was…rescued. By a man named Cazador Szarr. He’s a true vampire, you see, and he offered me the gift of immortality!” 

His voice takes on a mockingly grand tone, before turning bitter. “And I, at the time, thought I was saved, that this would be better than death. But all his promises were lies. He was never going to let me be a true vampire like himself. He was going to keep me as his slave for all of time.” 

“As his…slave?” she whispers.

“A vampire spawn cannot disobey the orders of their master,” he replies, all but growling. “They are compelled to do whatever they say. So I suppose I was less than a slave.” Though his voice is angry and bitter, his hands stay gentle as they work against her scalp. “I was fed rats and flies, not allowed to drink the blood of actual people. We couldn’t hurt him, but he could hurt us, and hurt us he did. Sometimes he’d order us to torture each other…and sometimes he did it himself.” 

His hands pull away, and he steps in front of her. Her eyes immediately land on his back. This is the first time that she’s seen it, and she wishes with all her heart that she could take the moment to appreciate how absolutely beautiful it is, all long, lean muscle, the graceful curve of his spine… 

But instead, her eyes are drawn to the raised scarring, jutting out of his skin in a large circle. It’s…words, she realizes, some sort of odd script she doesn’t recognize. “Oh, gods, Astarion, what did he do to you?” she whispers, aghast. 

“Cazador fancied himself a poet,” he all but spits. “Over the course of a night he composed and carved this into my flesh.” There’s a pause, and his shoulders drop, slumping as he remembers. “He made a lot of revisions as he went,” he says softly, and he just sounds…tired.  

When he turns back around, she’s staring up at him, her eyes glassy, her hands pressed to her mouth. He gives a soft sigh and kneels before her, taking her hands gently into his own. His expression is open, vulnerable, the man naked in more ways than one. “Don’t cry for me,” he murmurs, gently brushing at her cheek. “I’m not telling you this to get your sympathy, nice as it is. I’m telling you this to explain what you’ve done for me. That man, that…Gur. I know he was sent by Cazador. Sent to bring me back into the fold, as it were. You saved me from being taken back there, and…that is a debt I can never repay.” 

She shakes her head rapidly, bringing his hands up to kiss his knuckles, uncaring that they’re still a little soapy. “Astarion, you owe me nothing, I swear.” 

“Agree to disagree, darling,” he murmurs with a faint smile. “You are too sweet by far, and I don’t deserve you.” 

Sable’s jaw nearly drops open. That’s the first disparaging comment he’s made about himself. “Don’t say that,” she whispers past the lump in her throat. “If anyone deserves some kindness, it’s you.”

“You do remember when I told you that even before Cazador I wasn’t a good man, right?” he says wryly, but there’s already gratitude swimming in his eyes. 

“Doesn’t matter. No one deserves two centuries of torture. Gods, you…I…” She gently cups her hands around his jaw, and he can feel her shaking just a little. A wet little laugh splutters from her throat. “I have to admit, I do feel better about killing him now.” 

He laughs in spite of himself, and he leans forward, gathering her into his arms and pulling her down into his lap. He curls himself around her, burying his face into her neck, losing himself in her heat, in her scent. “Glad to hear it, kitten.” 

///////////////////////////////////////////////

Sable’s not sure how long they stayed wrapped around each other. They don’t speak, the vampire taking comfort in his lover, and his lover radiating warmth and care for him. But eventually they part, finishing up their wash and dressing. The quiet is comfortable, with gentle touches and soft smiles, and when they leave the basement of the forge to go get dinner, Sable is in noticeably better spirits. 

“Ah, the difference a good tumble makes, eh?” Karlach chuckles, giving Sable a friendly grin. 

Sable’s face heats as Gale pours a hearty stew into her wooden bowl. “Oh, no, we-it wasn’t like that.” 

“That blush speaks of a different story,” Wyll teases gently. 

“She blushes if Astarion so much as looks at her,” Gale replies, handing Halsin his own bowl. 

“Oh, come on,” Sable mutters, rubbing her free hand down her face. 

“We already know you’re bedding each other,” Shadowheart says with a pointed look. “No point in denying it.” 

“Ladies, gentlemen, and Gale.” Astarion manages to sound both exasperated and magnanimous at the same time. Gale’s eyebrow twitches. “If anything like that had happened between my darling lover and I down in that cellar mere moments ago, you would most certainly know it, because I would have had to carry her back up here.” 

Cheers and jeers meet his words. Sable turns red all the way to the tips of her pointed ears, but when Astarion gifts her with a playful wink she can’t stop the incredibly fond smile from pulling at her lips. 

Laughter, mostly-friendly banter, and gentle sparks from the campfire all drift through the night air together, and for the first time since this whole tadpole debacle began…Sable feels just a little like she belongs. 

[moronic-validity]

Hello back again. Im the breeding kink anon from last time. If you do Special Anon Signoffs, i'll probably be the vhs emoji. (📼)

On this sinful saturday eve, i am thinking very hard about winter with kittycat petplay gear. Long soft tail, ears, bell collar, the whole works.

What up 📼!!! It's good to see you back again and God damn I love the way you think! Now, warning: I don't write a lot of pet play so I don't quite know what's up, but if anyone has ideas or tips for writing it going forward, hit me up!

18+ obvs

Alright so first of all, let's get the outfit down to a T.

Winter's tail and ears would be white, the ears blending a little too well with his hair. He had them custom made by a very confused citizen who just rolled with it.

His collar is probably a really pale baby blue leather and the bell is mirror reflective.

He spent weeks designing the whole set and sending the exact specifications out.

But you didn't come here for a run down of how meticulous he is with everything, did you?

Simon can usually tell when Winter needs to go from the King holding the weight of the world to his precious kitten.

Winter would be pacing across their bedroom, on the verge of pulling out his hair when Simon finally cuts him off and asks him to go get his toys.

All the tension drops from his body as he gets the box from their closet, bringing it to Simon and kneeling in front of him.

He makes a big show of placing the collar and ears, spending extra time petting his head and ears.

It always seems to make Winter blush, but it doesn't stop him from pushing into Simon's touch.

The final piece is the tail.

Simon has Winter suck on the plug end, and he does, losing himself in the act.

Once Simon is satisfied that the plug is wet enough, he'll pull Winter across his lap and gently work it into place.

It's his favorite part, listening to the way Winter purrs and sighs as the plug slides in.

Now, depending on how Winter is feeling, he'll either curl up and take a nap like this (especially if he's ruined his sleep schedule out of stress) or he and Simon will play around a bit (which usually ends with Simon removing the plug and fucking Winter until he's got tears in his eyes and is begging to cum)

[chillis-woof-stuff]

Rainbow! Leather collar with 🌈 stitching and hardware 🏳️‍🌈

🏳️‍🌈🦴🏳️‍🌈🦴🏳️‍🌈🦴🏳️‍🌈🦴🏳️‍🌈🦴🏳️‍🌈🦴🏳️‍🌈🦴🏳️‍🌈🦴🏳️‍🌈

[hypewinter]

He consciousness came to him slowly. He heard a distance beeping, a bright light leaked through his eyelids, and there was something connected to his hand. There was also the smell of antiseptic and.... voices. Danny couldn't tell how close they were as all the sounds around him felt like they were coming from a tunnel. Where was he?

As the grogginess started to fade, panic swept in to take its place. He was hooked up to something, something that beeped. There were bright lights and the antiseptic stung his nose. Almost like he was in an examination room. Those voices.... could they belong to scientists? Oh no where was he!?

No no no no no no no. The beeping picked up. No! He couldn't be back here, not after he had tried so hard to escape the first time. He heard the voices suddenly turn into shouts as they got closer. No please no. A whimper escaped his lips.

Danny tried desperately to shrink back as hands grabbed him. No no no no no.

"It's okay. You're safe," a voice called to him, cutting through the panic. Safe?

More reassurances came. "That's right, no one can hurt you here," a second voice said.

A third voice chimed in, "Yep if anyone tried anything, we'd kick their butt!"

Slowly, Danny opened his eyes to see four people standing over him. He recognized three of them. They were the last people he saw before he passed out. The fourth guy though was unfamiliar. He wore a leather jacket over a red, blue and yellow suit with a giant S in the middle. "That's right," he said. "You're fine now."

His voice sounded familiar somehow. Ah! He must have been the one who held Danny up like a lost kitten. Danny's eyes wandered around, taking in his surroundings. Other than the four teens, there was no one else there. No guy in white ready to open up his chest. Was he really safe? He took in his environment next. He was in.... a hospital room? No not quite. There was a giant window to the side that looked into a hallway. The door beside it didn't look like any hospital door Danny had ever seen.

"Where.... am I?" he finally croaked out as he redirected his focus to the four teens.

"Ah," the one with the domino mask started, "You're a.... kinda in the Watchtower." The Watchtower? As in the Watchtower? The super secret Justice League base in space Watchtower!? Tucker had hacked into it by accident one time. When Danny found out about it he had been awestruck for days. And maybe even a little jealous.

Danny shot up, wanting to gauge his surroundings in a new light. That evidently proved to be a mistake as he immediately felt an intense pain in his chest.

He cried out and the boy in the leather jacket rushed to ease him back down. "Yeah I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said. "You have a nasty wound that's still healing."

He let himself be tucked back in before he asked, "Who are you guys?"

"We're the Young Justice. My name's Robin," Domino Mask answered.

Next to him Wild Hair piped up, "The name's Impulse!"

After him Double W said, "I'm Wonder Girl."

"And you can call me Superboy," Leather Jacket finished.

"Nice to meet you all. My name's Danny. Danny Phantom. And thank you. For saving me."

Robin shrugged, "It's what we do. Now, you should get some more rest. When you wake up you'll probably be interrogated into oblivion by Batman."

Danny's mind really wanted to latch onto that last bit but he was suddenly so tired. Probably his healing factor trying to kick it into high gear. Yeah he should probably sleep. Sleep sounded nice.

Danny was running through the forest, not daring to look back. He could hear the shouts behind him. The whirring of ecto powered guns charging and taking aim. His body hurt. Everything hurt so bad. And he was beyond exhausted. It wouldn't be long until they caught up. He had to get out of here. He had to get away.

Suddenly a green dot appeared in the distance. Slowly the dot grew bigger and bigger until it was a swirling vortex. Danny didn't even stop to wander where the portal would take him, it was he only escape. With that in mind, he stumbled through.

****

The injured halfa fell face first onto the ground.

"What the hell?" He heard someone say.

"Is he alive?" Another voice piped up.

He let out a weak groan in reply.

"Does that answer your question Impulse?" A third voice deadpanned.

"How'd he get in here?" Was that a fourth voice!?How many people were surrounding him? Did he just portal into a worse situation? Danny tried to get up and into a fighting position, but his body had finally given out and refused to move. All he could manage was a slight squirm.

"Superboy can you help him up?" The third voice asked.

Before Danny could react a hand was picking him up by the scruff of his shirt and he saw who surrounded him for the first time. To his left was a boy with an ungodly amount of hair, dressed in a red and white costume. Next to him was another boy dressed in a red and green fit with yellow accents and a black cape. Finally to his right was a girl. She wore a black top with two golden stacked w's on it accompanied by red pants with white stars. Danny couldn't see who was holding him from behind.

Confusion took over the fear and panic he was experiencing just a second ago. He had expected to portal to the ghost zone and see Clockwork or Wulf. Maybe even Frostbite ready with medical equipment. He never thought he'd end up in a weird base surrounded by 4 cosplaying teens.

Danny opened his mouth to ask where he was, but instead of words coming out of his mouth he coughed up blood. Well that wasn't supposed to happen.

Panic was immediately evident on everyone's faces. Including the middle kid wearing a mask.

"Questions can wait for later," he barked. "For now let's get him to the watchtower infirmary!"

The boy wanted to protest. He'd seen enough crime documentaries to know being taken to a secondary location was a bad idea. Add the fact that this secondary location was apparently an infirmary and that took a 'no way' to an 'absolutely not'. Once again though, his body had other plans. As he was switched from dangling by his neck to a princess carry, the pain overwhelmed him and black began taking over his vision. Guess this was happening whether he wanted it to or not. He just prayed that when he woke up, he wouldn't be strapped to another table.