#oh well it's done anyways i was going to tag but Hm

[butterflieswhisper]

looping echidna beastlife gif from trying to figure out toonboom

[travalerray]

fanfic writing is always like:

questionable characterisation (not really familiar yet) => oh this is actually good => questionable characterisation (projecting)

[bindeds]

[ BITE ME. ] : 2.2k words. ☆ ⌜ALASTOR X GENDER NEUTRAL READER. ⌟ — alastor catches you with bram stoker’s dracula and decides he can’t let you go until he gets to the bottom of your desires.

#tags. biting, blood, blood sucking, alastor with vampire teeth, reference to his cannibalism, but he doesn’t actually eat you, explicit consent, suggestive

a/n. sorry guys, this was wayyy too perfect of a chance realizing that alastor’s a cannibal. i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did! also, i’m finally starting a taglist! lmk which characters you wanna be tagged for ;>

meanwhile ... vampire lucifer version! BITE ME : AL’S VER PART 2 IS OUT !!!

masterlist. request something! :>

“I can’t wait for us to hang out oh, this is going to be so fun!”

You smiled right back at Charlie, though not quite able to return the ray of light she’d been emitting with her own.

“Charlie dear!”

You both looked over your shoulder to see Alastor approaching with his hands neatly poised behind his back.

“Where on earth are you going at this time with such dreadful skies?” Alastor’s head poked out between Charlie and yourself. He pressed the side of his hand to his brow as he squinted at the view outside.

You and Charlie were standing at the grand entrance of the hotel, straw-woven basket in hand.

The red skies of hell had looked just a few shades darker than they usually were and the gravel’s petrichor smell had started to rise in the streets.

Charlie had taken the pleasure of letting Alastor know that you and her would be going on a picnic date. She had taken extra care in watching the weather forecast yesterday to make sure the weather would only be windy, at most drizzly for today, which, judging by her ear-to-ear grin, was right up her alley.

Alastor’s eyes zipped down to your hand, still leaning in front with his hand retracted. “What’s that in your hand, darling?”

“Oh,” you frowned, holding up the book by instinct. “Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I’m trying to get into the classics and Charlie said to bring a book.”

“Dracula,” Alastor’s voice and tone darkened, and the static scratches of radio surrounded the three of you as his grin grew taller. “Such a classic indeed.”

Alastor finally took a step back from the both of you, but that didn’t warrant both of you enough of a reason to continue on your way just yet—your attention as well as Charlie’s was as good as trapped in Alastor’s hands.

“Charlie, may I borrow your friend for a moment?”

“Alastor! Right now, really?” She urged in gritted teeth.

“My sincerest apologies Charlie, I’ve just remembered some important matters we had agreed to settle the very moment we were free.” Alastor placed a hand to his abdomen before he gave a slight bow.

“We won’t be long,” he drawled in a prodding tone.

“What?” You barked after he let you into his quarters first before shutting the door behind him.

Alastor’s eyes traced your shoulders, your arms—then seemed to set up camp at your hands.

Your grip on your book tightened.

“I see you’re dedicated to your little outing with Charlie, hm?” Alastor circled you as he looked over your shoulder. He twirled around to the other shoulder while he clicked his stick to the ground to use as an axis.

The fire sputtered softly in the background. The renovations done to the hotel had certainly been setting into your skin now—the cover of your poor book had become damp with your sweat. The blaring reds of Alastor’s grand room had somehow been less overwhelming to look at than the man himself.

Your eyes zipped over to his chest, shit, why—how did you get here? Though your eye sockets had been yanking you to look his way anyway, your eyelids gave the threat of a blink that for some reason entailed certain death.

A spindly finger crept its way under your chin and tilted your head up. Your gaze naturally fell to his eyes, so narrow and sharp as they could’ve pierced into your own, but no—instead, his gaze took a step into yours. Ever the polite gentleman, letting you know he was letting himself in as your blinking flickered.

“My eyes are up here, darling,” Alastor buzzed in a gravelly voice that dug below the growling radio static.

You gulped, and it seemed that that had been enough for Alastor to release your chin. “Though I suspect it’s not the outing you’re excited about …”

“Alastor, we can talk about this later—”

“Oh, but we haven’t talked about us at all—not since the fall of Charlie’s hotel,” Alastor grinned but gave a pouting tone.

Right.

You had panicked the moment Alastor left for longer than he should have. When you were the only one who clearly didn’t hate him but didn’t hug him upon his return, he took it upon himself to ask about your attitude towards him. You confessed to having thought about him a little more than the rest of the crew, thinking you would be ripping the bandaid off when he laughs at your face and tells you he doesn’t like wasting his time on such sentiments—but lo and behold, he twirled you around to an old jazz song you couldn’t recognize and said—

“Why, I would be ridding myself of the one person who happens to be a pleasure to be around! Don’t be so harsh on yourself my dear, you’re quite a beauty to be relished, even if I am no such person for the job.”

Alastor’s fingers crawled up to his lips as they tapped in a rippling motion.

“Though, it does make me inclined to try …”

So there you were.

The past few days have been more than bearable with this subtle change as you would have expected with someone who wasn’t known to be into romantics. And Alastor had made it clear that you two were only exclusive without a label—but it seemed the current moment might be testing that statement’s validity.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you reasoned as you held the book to your chest with the title facing him.

Alastor’s eyes dropped back down to your book and up to you again as he shut his eyes.

“And you’re doing just a splendid job, my treasure. Letting me set the pace. But right now, I must admit … it’s rather difficult for me to see you reading quite possibly the most popular piece of fiction on vampires,” Alastor held back a sigh through his explanation, but it slipped between his theatrics nonetheless. “You do know I’m a cannibal, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” you insisted, and for some reason your voice dropped to a lower register as you frowned.

Your gaze had been drawn right back to Alastor’s prying own like a compass needle to the earth’s core—it wavered, but never wandered long.

“Then you should know it’s only natural for me to yearn for your taste,” Alastor hummed. “If only I had known you were enamored by such notions sooner …”

“What does it matter now? Right when I’m supposed to head out with Charlie too …”

“Is it really what you wish to do?” Alastor questioned with a cocked brow. “Because if so …” he stepped aside and showed you the door with his hand motioned towards it. “I will not stop you, my sweet.”

In your head, you prepared for your body to move—but you made one pathetic excuse for a step before you fell ice cold. Your head spun and whirred with the expectation of movement—but your body tensed with the commands your muscles refused to follow; like there had been a mix of commands in which your brain may have known what was right but the very blood that supplied your body remained loyal to the desires pounding in your rib cage.

“Well?”

Alastor stood rooted to his spot, and though his grin had turned into a tamed smile, you knew that underneath his closed eyes he’d been brimming for your answer.

“What … What are you going to do?” You asked innocently. There were a number of things already stirring in your head about your fate in the next ten minutes or so, but Alastor’s hell-renowned status had been built escaping the grasps of others’ expectations.

“What would you like me to do my dear?” He tilted his head at an unnatural angle as his sharp eyes narrowed at you once more, the static noise crackling much like the fire had—only this sound panted and prodded in your ear, demanding to be known.

“No, this is not how this works, Al,” you sterned as much as you could with the tremble in your voice. “You tell me exactly what you have in mind, then I will tell you what I think.”

“Hmmph,” Alastor cooed. “How clever.”

He made his way over to you, and your body reacted quicker than your mind as your steps matched his, only they brought you backwards while he stalked forward.

He leaned into your ear. “I’d like to know what you taste like, dear.”

You attempted to steel yourself as a shiver traveled from your arms to your spine. Alastor’s breath might have been warm but the shiver had shedded off half your warmth and preserved the rest on your cheeks.

He returned to his original position right in front of you, keeping your flickering gaze locked on his, even if his own hadn’t been half as loyal when they switched between your neck and the former.

“Not to worry. I won’t hurt you any more than I have to. I find those fangs that vampires possess quite appealing,” he commented. “So what do you say, darling?”

You nodded. You didn’t mean to.

But by this time your throat, your muscles, the very same ones tensed with the promise of Alastor’s tongue on your skin—they had been pulling the strings because you knew you wouldn’t do it all by yourself, acting so surprised by the things you’re saying.

“Please,” you whispered as you bit your lip. Now’s no time to be praying.

“I want you to bite me.”

Unless it’s to the very demon before you.

“Lovely.”

His hand slipped to your waist and steered you to the right and towards the edge of his bed.

You fell back, your book finally escaped your grasp and Alastor’s shadow casted over you completely.

He adjusted his tie as he set down his microphone, chin held high with a half-lidded glance at your book that laid askew on his bed. He picked it up and flipped it back to front briefly before setting it down on his bedside table like he’d been framing a picture.

“Now then,” he grinned, and his teeth had been completely altered with a straight row—the only two to stand out being the prominent fangs that ended on his lower lip.

Alastor swooped in and you shut your eyes tight from the gush of wind that accompanied him only to be met with his warm breath on your neck.

“I trust you know that this will hurt for an itty bitty moment, yes?” He warned with a voice so vile yet sultry, like his little remarks had slithered into your ear and lapped your head in jawbreaker promises filled with his venom.

You nodded quickly, and froze at once when he punctured you; fire spread throughout your neck, inflamed your cheeks, collarbones protruding as you clawed at his shoulders for purchase—and to your surprise, he adjusted your grip to loop around his neck, which in turn enveloped you closer to him.

A swirling sensation danced into the picture with your jugular pulsing against his teeth. Your flesh and muscles hugged the two blades that only sank deeper into you causing you to bruise even further. You winced, and Alastor’s tongue drew small circles where he had been sucking. Something had been dripping from you and Alastor was sure not to miss a single drop of you. At least, not from your neck.

You bit your lip once more, a sound rising past your throat and holding your tongue hostage. Warmth had now engulfed your jaw and neck as you craned it back to allow him easier access—what was previously festered had subsided into a dizzying pleasure, his fangs almost tickling you along with the wet trails left by his tongue.

Ice washed over the abused spot on your neck when his fangs left you, pieces of your skin still clung onto him until the very last second. He nibbled and bit further down and along your collarbone before he drew back.

He exhaled through his teeth, which had now grown out to be the regular sharp rows he possessed previously. With the way his eyes trekked on your shoulders and jaw, it took every muscle in your body not to shrivel under his critical eye.

“Oh, my dear, you’re absolutely glowing,” Alastor sighed, the inner corner of his brows arched up as his hands remained planted on either side of you. His smile faltered. “If you should even dare to think otherwise, come to me. I will fix what is wrong with this realm, and that is the wretch who convinced the moon and stars they were nothing but rotten work.”

Heavy knocks thundered from the door.

“Alastor! What’s taking so long?” Charlie reprimanded, which made you jolt when she uttered your name along with his. “We need to go!”

Alastor stepped back and dusted himself off which allowed you space to do the same. You fixed your shirt and ran towards the door only for a firm hand on your forearm to twirl you around and dip you, your hair falling away from your face.

“Alastor!” You hissed.

Alastor held up your book with his free hand. “I’m touched you’d let me keep this as a souvenir.”

You grabbed the book and headed for the door again. “I’m late.”

Charlie called your name once more.

“Coming!”

“That you will be,” Alastor chuckled.

You glared at him over your shoulder. “Big talk for an ace.”

“I never know what that means.” Alastor shrugged as he planted his microphone in front of him.

You rolled your eyes before opening and slamming the door behind you, leaving Alastor to think about what he was going to do about your attitude when you got back.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: we're here to boo Andrew.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“So, you’re coming?” Jacob’s voice quavers with excitement. You can’t imagine how he’d sound if you said no. You hate letting people down, it seems to be all you've ever done.

“Uh, yeah,” you say as you steer around the track; opting for some MarioKart over Minecraft that night, “boss says it’s no problem to get the days off. Just have to make it up after. Is... Is everything still good on your end?” 

“Oh yeah, sure thing,” he assures buoyantly, “I can’t wait. Did you still wanna split the airBnB?” 

“Actually, I got a place to stay for the night then I’ll take the early bus back,” you explain as Princess Peach knocks you off the track, “argh!” 

“Right, that’s good,” he says, “good to know you won’t be stranded out there.” 

“Mhm,” you use your boost to catch up to Peach and get your revenge. You don’t mention that Kara will be with you at the con. You just want to be sure this isn’t something wonky. “It’ll be nice to get out of town. My grandma will probably be happy to have the place to herself.” 

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “what’s her problem anyway?” 

“Just the way she is. She likes her space,” you shrug, “I don’t know, I don’t think she expected to be raising her granddaughter...” 

“Ah, yeah, I guess that would be stressful,” he says, “still, seems like you’re not too bad to be around. Got a job, go to school, all that. Think my dad would love it if I put in half as much effort.” 

“Yeah? You make him sound like a hard ass.” 

“Can be. Lawyer, so kinda his schtick,” he chuckles. 

“Oo, fancy,” you snort. Maybe if either of your parents had been lawyers, you wouldn’t be living off your grandma’s resent.  

“I guess. Never really see him that much...” he grumbles. 

“Hm, well, no winning, is there?” You mutter. 

“Not really,” he sighs and hisses, “ugh, Toad!” 

You chuckle and cross the finish line. A respectable second. You wait for him to finish and stifle a yawn. 

“Tired?” He asks. 

“Little.” 

“Me too, long day,” he groans, “neck’s killing me.” 

“Oh, what’d you do--” 

“You know, I’m-- an idiot. Was messing around on my bike.”��

“Of course,” you snicker, “well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna sign off. I don’t wanna keep my grandma up and my head’s starting to go.” 

“Sure, I gotta get up early anyway,” he sounds less than enthused. “Good night.” 

“You too.” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Can’t, work. Day after?” 

“Okay, I’ll make it work,” he confirms, “I’m excited about meeting up. Aren’t you?” 

“Yep,” you try not to show your doubt. You’re still not really sure about everything. 

“Can’t wait,” he rasps and the silt in his tone makes you shiver. 

“Yeah, er, bye then,” you hit end session and take off your headset, your ears tender and a bit sweaty. Even if it is awkward, at least you’ll get to hang with Kara for a bit. You haven’t seen her since grad. 

🎮

You’re already exhausted and you’re not even inside yet. The line for the convention is bustling and your excitement keeps you going as you and Kara gab away and move with the slow crawl. The sun beams down and has you sweating, though you could easily blame that on your nerves too. 

“So, this Jacob... is he cute?” She winks. 

“Kara,” you roll your eyes, “it’s not like that. Really. We just game.” 

“Oh yeah. But do you want it to be more?” She teases. 

“You know I’m not really into all that. I don’t have room for a boyfriend in my life.” 

“So boring. Never change, girlie,” she nudges you playfully. “But really, that’s smart. Calvin is too much. I’m thinking of cutting him loose.” 

“Again?” You squint. 

“Not my fault he keeps coming back,” she giggles. 

You peer around, searching out a familiar face amid the ocean of strangers. You haven’t seen Jacob yet. You’re almost hoping he doesn’t show up. Then again, why wouldn’t he? He paid for you to be here. The reminder of the fact strikes guilt in your chest. 

You pause as your eyes catch another pair, further back in the queue. An older man with a beard. He stands out among the crowd. He wears a tidy button-up where most wear graphic tees or cosplay attire. He stares for a moment before he turns away and looks down, probably at whatever kid dragged him there. 

“Well, what are you going to do if he sees you and falls in love?” Kara asks. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. 

“If he’s a nerd like you, how could he not?” 

“Hey,” you frown. 

“What? You’re like the sexy gamer girl type. Isn’t that what dudes want?” She shrugs. “Let me see his pic again. He’s a skinny little thing. He’d definitely be into you.” 

“Urgh, stop,” you cross your arms. 

“Sorry, I’m only playing. You just seem so nervous, I’m trying to loosen you up.” 

“I know,” you puff, “it’s just... I should’ve just said no. This is stupid. I don’t know why I even agreed.” 

“To get out of that shithole,” she snips. “Why do you think I hauled ass the minute I popped by grad cap on?” 

“Mm, yeah, I just hope... do you think he really wants that? Maybe I gave him the wrong idea. Oh, Kar, I really didn’t mean to lead him on.” 

“No, no, I’m sure it’s nothing you did if he does. I mean, he’s probably a virgin so...” 

“That’s mean,” you pout. 

“What, so are you,” she laughs. 

“Exactly,” you shake your head and drop your arms, a buzz jittering your skirt pocket.  

You look down at yourself as you slide your phone free. That was probably a bold choice but it’s so damn hot out. Besides, your Pikachu tee is loose enough to counteract the denim sheath. You turn the screen up, shading it with your hand as you read. 

‘Sorry, not going to make it. Something came up. 🙁' 

You frown and reread the message. Really? You came all the way here, took time off of work, and he’s flaking? 

“What’s up?” Kara asks as she clicks her manicured nails impatiently and stands on her toes, trying to see past the bodies ahead. 

“He just cancelled,” you mutter and type in your reply. 

‘Oh no. Hope it’s nothing bad. Maybe another time.’ 

You hit send and drop your shoulders. You’re surprised how disappointed you are. More so about the wasted effort than anything. Even if you are a bit relieved, it’s shitty. 

“Ah, bullshit!” Kara sneers, “what the hell? What did he say?” She reaches for your phone and you hold it out of her grasp. “That fucker.” 

“It’s probably not his fault. Shit happens.” 

“Babe, you’re gonna settle for a lot of nonsense if you keep that attitude. I’d be friggin pissed if I was you. He brings you all the way here and now he’s too good for you. I bet he saw some cute girl in line and she smiled at him once so now he’s ditching,” she scowls, “I hate boys.” 

“I’m sure... it’s nothing,” you say glumly as your phone vibes again. 

‘I’m real sorry. I hope you still have a good time. Take lots of pictures.’ 

You don’t respond. You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. It never feels good to be stood up. Even then. 

“You know what, screw him,” Kara snarls, “let’s go in there and buy you the cutest plushie you can find. Hell, maybe you can find an even cuter guy.” 

“Kar,” you warn her. 

“Fine, just the plushie. Maybe two,” she trills, “forget that loser.” 

🎮

The chaos of the convention wipes away the dark cloud over you. You’re almost thankful that Jacob gave you the opportunity to catch up with Kara. You didn’t realise how much you missed her. It’s perfect day where you can forget about your grandmother and your lame job and everything else. 

You rush around from booth to booth. You look at fanart, handmade figures, and stuffies. You’re mindful of your wallet and how empty it really is. You’ll get one thing and a snack. That’s all you can afford.  

As the hours roll by, your early morning bus ride and time spent standing out in the hot sun catch up to you. You feel your muscles starting to ache and your eyelids turning fuzzy. You yawn as you shuffle behind Kara as she waits in line to get a signature from the one D-list celeb she’s heard of. You’d get one too but it’s way too expensive. 

“Hey,” you rub your cheek, “mind if I sit and wait? I wanna grab a soft pretzel anyway.” 

“Sure,” she agrees easily, “looks like it’s gonna be a while.” 

“Want me to bring you a drink or something?” You offer. 

“Nah, just text me where you are so I can find you,” she says. 

You leave her reluctantly. You’d rather not be wandering alone through the hordes but your feet are killing you and your stomach’s been roaring for the last hour. You stand in line for the pretzel stall and get yours with cinnamon sugar and syrup. Messy but delicious. 

You find a table in the corner and settle in. You put your phone beside the napkin and tear apart the doughy goodness. Your phone lights up with a notification from the merge game you like to play and you see several other icons; missed messages. 

You focus on your snack, savouring each bite, as your eyes drift around the crowded centre. You can barely see some of the booths as hordes cluster around. Some cosplayers bat at each other with toy swords as children fight over the arcade machines. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activity all around. 

You put your head down trying to block out the lights and noise. You feel yourself getting overstimulated. It’s like when you’re in the lecture hall and suddenly you can hear every sniff, sneeze, and keystroke. You close your eyes as you wipe your fingertips on the edge of the napkin, only half-finished your pretzel. 

“Looks good,” a deep voice cuts through the blaring din. 

As you recognise the timbre, your heart squeezes and the world pinpoints at the centre of your skull. You open your eyes and slowly raise your head. You blink dumbly at the unfamiliar man stood in front of you. You think you’ve seen him before, or at least he sticks out from the typical convention attendee. 

It isn’t that he’s too old, there’s lots of older geeks hanging around but they have neckbeards and greasy combovers. His hair is tidy and his beard trimmed close. His clothing also lacks the typical Dorito dust or anime character. You remember, he was outside in the line. 

“Uh, hello?” You utter. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as he pulls out the chair across from you. He sits as your insides plunge. You know his voice. 

“Jacob?” You murmur in shock. How? Why? This isn’t the stringy teenager you met online. 

He nods, his jaw tensing, and he crosses an arm over the table, pointing to your half-eaten pretzel, “what’d you get on yours? I can’t decide between sweet or savoury.” 

“Who... are you?” You croak, head spinning as your eyes prick. You knew something was weird. You knew you weren’t talking to Jacob or whoever that boy was in the pictures. 

He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. As his chest deflates, you do too. He’s older than you, bigger than you, and by the looks of him, a lot better off. Why the hell would he be chatting with you? Why would he lie to you? 

“You’re right. I’m not Jacob,” he confesses, the colour draining from his face. He steeples his fingers and considers his next words carefully. You sit back and hug yourself defensively. This is fucked. “My name is Andy, Jacob is my son.” 

“Your son?” You eke out, “why-- why would you lie?” 

He cringes and takes another breath, “he was my son,” he corrects himself, “he... passed.” 

You feel like you’ve been struck. Your mouth falls open, stunned. Not only did he hide behind his son’s photos, but his dead son’s. Oh, god. You feel sick. No, you feel stupid. 

“Look, please, just hear me out. I just—it wasn’t meant to go on this long. When I first lied to you, it was supposed to be that one time. I was... I was lost. I just lost Jacob and I was going through his things. I started playing because I missed him. I wanted to feel like he was still there--” 

“No, no, you got on discord and you started talking to me. As him!” Your voice shakes and your eyes tinge. “That’s not just missing him.” 

“I know, you’re right. I lied but... I got lonely playing by myself so yes, I went onto that discord. You were nice. You didn’t call me a noob or whatever. And... and after work, looking forward to hearing your voice, it got me through a lot of pain. Being alone in that house after so long, I couldn’t cope--” 

“So you lied to me?” You stand and snatch your phone, nauseous to the core, “you manipulated me. How do you know—if you had just been you that I would’ve been any different? If you just wanted to play games, to be friends--” 

“I was scared--” 

“I don’t care if you were scared,” you hiss as you stomp forward. “You’re an adult.” 

He stands and blocks your path. You recoil, put off by his height. He’s a lot bigger on his feet. 

“Please, move or... I’ll scream,” you breathe. 

“You don’t have to do that. Just hear me out,” he pleads. 

“I don’t want to hear anything else from you, Jacob. Or Andy. Or whoever you really are,” you sneer, “move.” 

He shudders and hangs his head. He makes himself seem small as his shoulders round and he backs out of your way. You bite down and march past him.  

You need to get to a bathroom. Now. You’re going to spew up your guts. More important, you need to get yourself together before you go find Kara. She can’t know this happened. It’s too embarrassing. 

[slayfics]

Muichiro reminds you you’re his Tsuguko.

A crow flew overhead alerting you and Muichiro of some Kanoto ranks in danger from a demon nearby. You both took off immediately to help them and take care of the demon.

Upon arrival, Muichiro let you handle the demon while he moved the lower ranks out of danger.

The demon wasn't challenging so it was the perfect time to try out some new techniques you just learned and had been practicing with Muichiro.

Muichiro observed taking mental notes of how you were doing when he overheard the lower ranks talking behind him.

"Wow, they are incredible," one said, watching you battle the demon.

"Not to mention beautiful too, think I could ask them on a date?" The other asked.

"Yeah right like they would ever give you the time of day," the first one replied laughing.

Muichiro scrunched his nose up in disgust but didn't turn around to face the Kanoto's. Of course, you wouldn’t be interested in any of those swordsmen he thought.

Or would you? The thought of you accompanying one of them on a date suddenly made him feel ill. He blinked hard, forcing the image out of his mind, and focused back on how you were doing. The lower ranks were right, you were doing amazing and it was stunning to watch.

You finished off the demon and made your way over to Muichiro and the other swordsmen.

"Are you all ok?" You asked them.

"They are fine with only minor injuries," Muichiro answered before any of them could speak to you.

"Oh, that's great! Do any of you need help getting to your next destination?” You asked, but again Muichiro spoke for them standing in between you and them.

"Their next destination is a Wisteria House not too far from here. Surely they can make that journey on their own. If they can't, they should quit the demon slayer corps now." He said sharply, turning his head to side-eye them. "Ask for us, we have much more work to do today and should be off." He said, and motioned for you to follow him in the opposite direction of the Kanoto ranks.

"Ok bye then, safe travels!" You said waving at the Kanoto ranks and following Muichiro.

"Geez, the Hashira are all real pieces of work aren't they?" You heard one Kanoto say as you departed. If Muichiro heard, he didn't care to dignify the lower rank with a response.

"How did I do Tokito?" You decided to ask, pushing the Kanoto's statement out of your mind.

"You did great, excellent work using your breathing techniques. We just have to work on getting you faster." He replied.

"Oh wow really! Thank you!" You said beaming at his praise. Sure he had some notes of improvement, but Muichiro always did. The fact that he had anything nice to say at all meant you must have done exceptionally well.

"I'm not the only one that thought so either," he said.

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"Those lower ranks seemed to be captivated by you. One wanted to ask you on a date."

"Oh!" You exclaimed, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"You should know though, you're my Tsuguko and you don't have time for trivial matters such as that," Muichiro stated.

This caused you to process the scene just now. Specifically, the way Muichiro refused to let you speak to the Kanoto's, and how he ensured to stay physically between you and them. A small smirk found its way to your lips. Was Muichiro really just trying to keep you focused on training? Or was something else going on here, you wondered.

"That's fine. I wouldn't be interested in any of their company anyway." You said teasingly.

"No?" Muichiro asked and turned to face you.

"Nope. I'm only interested in one swordsman's company."

Muichiro's eyes widened in curiosity, "what swordsman is that?" He asked.

"You of course." You said, and Muichiro swiftly turned back around, but you could have sworn you saw his face flush before he did.

Tagging those that asked~

@aeolia18 @plvuii @muichirouswife

[klausinamarink]

He Want Kiss

rating: G | cw: none | wc: 630 | tags: post s4, getting together, first kiss, Steve is down bad | prompt: Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can’t stop thinking about kissing him

written for @steddielovemonth

Steve is obsessed with Eddie’s lips. 

Like completely to the point that he might actually start going to therapy. 

But Steve is just a simple man. He sees a pair of well-rounded lips that can make a perfect smile with dimples and he’s a goner. For example, look at Eddie. They’re so plump looking that Steve cannot believe it’s legal. And the way they move whenever Eddie speaks-

“-ink I should go for this one?”

Steve snaps his gaze up, barely surviving from the combination of head whiplash and the pointed attack of Eddie’s eyes, Jesus Christ, look at them Bambi eyes.

“Oh yeah, man.” How Steve manages not to stutter is both a mystery and a blessing. 

“Yeah?” Eddie looks at him, his expression mixed with expectation and nervousness.

“Yeah.” Steve repeats confidently. He’s already forgetting what exactly they were talking about but he knows it has to do with Eddie trying to get a job, hence why he called Steve over to help him out with the few applications that believe in Eddie’s innocence. “Like, yeah, go for that.” 

Christ, he might as well bash his head again. Steve really doesn’t want to come off as a douche again, but it’s not his fault that Eddie’s lips are just right there. They’re just begging to be kissed.

Thankfully, Eddie seems pleased by his answer. He smiles, dimples and all - oh lord please have mercy on Steve’s soul because he cannot handle the adorableness any longer - as he says, “Well, if Steve Harrington says so, then I will do it.” Then Eddie starts biting his lip, glancing down at the resume they’ve polished together. 

Steve digs his fingernails through the jeans over his thighs, but it’s not enough to bat away the growing temptation to reach forward and brush his fingers over Eddie so the other man wouldn’t abuse his lips anymore. The skin had already been cracked and bleeding in the past few months and it’s always so devastating to see Eddie hurt a part of himself like this.

Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, Steve should kiss him. 

Eddie is right there. While there will be lots of opportunities to have him at Steve’s side, there’ll never be another perfect chance like this. 

Steve leans forward a bit but stops himself. Has Eddie ever been kissed before? If he did, does he like the faint touch of lips brushing together? Like smashed together? Full-on make-out sessions that lead to something more passionate? 

Okay, Steve could work on the slow route. He’s done it before with his previous girlfriends. He could lean in at a snail’s pace so Eddie has enough time to register what’s happening and-

“Steve?”

Suddenly, Eddie’s face is much closer than Steve remembers. He feels a heat of breath against his lips. Then the rush of realization comes over Steve because he was about to kiss Eddie.

Yet despite this, Steve barely feels a sense of embarrassment. He stays in place, staring into Eddie’s wide eyes as they flicker over his face, lingering on Steve’s lips every few seconds. 

Finally, Eddie huffs out a nervous little laugh, “You, uh, listened to what I just said?”

“Hm-mm.” Steve shakes his head. He feels like he’s on cloud nine and whatever Eddie does next, he’s going to scream at the heavens anyway. 

Eddie’s lips form the briefest of smirks, but it’s gone in a blink. They part open slightly. 

Steve can’t hold it anymore. He closes the space between them and meets Eddie’s lips at last. It’s more rough and desperate than he plans it to be and tries to dial it back. But when Eddie kisses him with a similar force, Steve goes screw it and kisses back like it’s their last chance.

[essentiallyleaf]

day 18. feeding. with. chaehyun.

1055 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, feeding kink, fingering, squirting, is this entire thing just extremely stupid and opposite-of-hot?, true story (well, part of this is. yeah, it’s the part where i make chaehyun squirt on her sheets).

notes.

sequel to day 06. dacryphilia. or, it’s in the same universe, the timing is kinda fucked. episodically, leaf.

“You know, this one time, I was a kid, like first, second grade? Or was it kindergarten? I was eating cherries, and I tried to swallow two at once. Don’t ask me why, maybe my dad told me not to, and at that point I had no choice. Anyway they got stuck in my throat,” you start laughing as you tell the story, the incident reminding you of two old men fighting for the same parking spot. “And they had to grab my ankles and put me upside down, and then press on my stomach to make me spit them out. It was horrible. Actually, it might have been just fine, I don’t remember much. But I remember my parents like, freaked out. What a great way to go, that would’ve been”

“Well, nice to know stupid guys were also stupid when they were children. People never change.” She teases while giggling, her eyes shine when she does. “What do you make of that story?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m too impatient. Or maybe too greedy.” You get thoughtful for a second.

“Should have stored the others in your cheeks while one was going down, or something”

“Yeah, what do they call that? Chubby bunny?”

“You know, that’s what they used to call me, in middle school.” She mentions in a slightly somber tone.

“A chubby bunny? That’s so rude and insensitive!” You say with an appalled look.

“Right?”

“Yeah, you look nothing like a bunny!” You banter back.

“Oh, fuck off!” She laughs off as she pushes your shoulder lightly.

You both take a sip of somaek. You grab one of the strawberries from the bowl on the table and take a bite. As you raise your eyes up again, she’s staring at the fruit like it’s the most interesting thing in the world - like a fine piece of precision engineering, or a perfectly symmetric snowflake, or whatever the hell this girl is interested in, it’s the first time the two of you are exchanging more than six words at a time - or maybe she’s just lost in thought. Conversely, it’s the complete lack of thoughts in your head that makes you bring the remaining half of the strawberry to her mouth in a slow movement. She bites, her lips making slight contact with your fingers. As she chews on it, both of you keeping eye contact, some strawberry juice escapes her lips; she rubs her hands on them to clean it up. When she’s done eating, the same lack of thoughts pushes your head forward and your lips on hers. Your tongue brushes on her sweet fruity lips, and you realize some leftover strawberry juices must have still been there, then her own tongue comes out to meet yours, and they entangle for some time before the two of you need to catch your breaths.

“I think you were being greedy.” She stares into your irises like she sees your past in them.

“Hm?”

“Back then, the two cherries thing”

“What makes you think that?”

“I told you, people never change.” She takes the somaek cup back in her hand.

“You’re saying I’m a greedy person now?”

“I’m saying, me and Jimin unnie”

“She has no problems with this. We talked about it-”

“I never said that.” She asserts calmly.

“Well, do you have any-”

“I never said that, either. I’m just saying, you’re greedy.” She observes with a subtly cheeky tone.

“Hm. You know what would be greedy?” You can only give her a taste of her own medicine. “If I asked you not only go to your room, but also to take on a little challenge for me”

-

Chaehyun is laying on her back, her denim skirt and pink panties at the foot of her bed, and you on top, middle finger hovering over her thick, slick outer lips.

“You don’t need to say it everytime, just keep them in your cheeks, you can eat them at the end”

“What if I- Mmmmhhh, wanna eat them right away?” She can already barely keep it together.

“Hm, who’s the impatient one now?”

Grab a small strawberry with your unoccupied hand and put it on top of her lips, rub it around them for a little while, then tell her: “Open up”, and place it on her tongue. She doesn’t store it away, just starts chewing while moaning with her eyes closed. You’re not even mad, or surprised, the view is too hot for either. You simply insert your middle finger into her wet hole as a response, making her whining even louder.

“Mmmmmhh- ore, please”

Not sure if she means strawberries or fingers, so you give her both. A red pearl in her mouth, a second digit in her slit, now scissoring and stretching her walls apart. You need to kiss her to suppress her moans, or maybe you need to kiss her because you need to kiss her, and when you do she ends up slightly biting your lower lip, maybe thinking you’re hers to eat, too. Your fingers switch to pumping in and out of her now, and they do so with ease, her wetness telling you all you need to know, as if the sinful melodic sounds coming from her mouth weren’t enough already. So grab one last strawberry from the bowl and drop it into her awaiting cavern, as she immediately starts greedily chewing on it, her moans not stopping despite that. Place your thumb on her clit and flick it ferociously, trying to get her to her peak.

“Yes, yes! I’m gonna…”

Chaehyun bucks her hips up several times as powerful squirts hit your hand and forearm as well as her bed, a couple screams leaving her powerful vocal chords. You keep thrusting your fingers at gradually decreasing speed to help her ride her orgasm out, your other hand finding itself fondling her soft boobs through her top. You bend your head down to kiss her once again as you slowly retreat your digits from her still contracting walls, then your lips make way for your fingers in her mouth as Chaehyun tastes herself, sucking and licking her juices off of you.

“How’s the taste, tiger?”

“What?” “I asked-” “No, what did you call me?”

“That’s what you are. You’re not a bunny, you’re a white tiger”

-

footnotes.

baekho chaehyun > tokki chaehyun. sorryidontmaketherulesly, leaf.

[stop-talking]

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 4)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.4k words + 300 word epilogue

Tags: 18+, mike x fem reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, fluff, comfort, happy ending.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Mike sits at his kitchen table, trying not to nod off into his cereal. Today is a quiet day. A lazy day. His one day off.

Except, not really. There's always work to be done. He just has to figure out what today's work would be. He's caught up on laundry and dishes, the house isn't too much of a mess... Hm. Maybe he should finally fix the dripping pipe in the bathroom. Or the living room window that's been stuck for years. Or one of the million other things wrong with his house.

He sighs and goes to take a bite of his cereal, only to realize he forgot the milk. Damn it. When he opens the fridge, he stands face to face with a little blue dolphin stuffed animal. Right... Abby's still testing him. He leaves it alone, she'll see it when she gets home from school and assume her "spell" still works. Pfft.

Mike nearly drops the milk mid-pour when he hears the phone ring.

*click.*

"Hello?" He mumbles groggily, a little annoyed to have his morning brooding interrupted.

"Hey, Mike? You free at all today?"

He immediately perks up at the sound of your voice. It's been two days since he last saw you, and he honestly wasn't sure if you'd ever speak to him again.

"Yeah, uh... It's my day off, actually."

"Good. I'm using that 2nd favor."

Mike's heart races. If this favor is going to be anything like the last one, he was definitely up for it.

"Oh? Missing me already, sweetheart?"

"As if. I need you to build me a shelf."

A shelf? Well, that was unexpected. Hm. Better than nothing.

"What, like build it from scratch? Are you expecting me to buy the boards, or-"

"No. I have all the pieces. It just needs to be assembled."

"You can't assemble a shelf?" Mike scoffs, but secretly he's pleased. Sounds like you just want an excuse to have him over.

"Mike. You know I'm no good with tools."

No, he didn't know that actually. Liar. You definitely just wanted to see him again. God, he felt giddy.

"Mhm. Sure."

"Just get your ass over here, Schmidt."

"Woah, what's with the attitude, Princess? I'm here to help." He can't help but let some smugness seep into his tone. Okay, more than some. He's a cocky bastard and he knows it.

"I've been working on the damn thing all morning. Almost three hours now. Not in the mood, jackass."

Shit. You sounded sincere. And really pissed off. Then again, what kind of a shelf took three hours to assemble? The fuck was it? A jigsaw puzzle?

"Alright, alright. I'll be over soon. See ya."

Mike slumps against the counter as you grumble something incoherent and slam the phone down. Damn, what is he getting himself into this time?

Only one way to find out.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike finally arrives at your apartment half an hour later, he feels a bit silly. He put on a nice shirt and trousers to come see you, and here you are in sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Figures.

"Call for a handyman?" He greets you with a teasing smile, holding up his old rusted toolbox as he makes his way inside.

"Pfft. Someone's happy to see me."

Mike can't really say anything to that, so he doesn't try. He is happy to see you, even if you have attitude problems and dress like a bum.

"So, I bought the damn thing from a friend-of-a-friend, who got it at a garage sale. I swear, it has to be missing some parts or something, because-"

He nods as you rattle on and lead him to your bedroom, but he's only half-listening. He looks around your apartment, taking it all in. It's been at least six months since he last came over, probably longer. It doesn't look to have changed much. He likes your apartment. It's cozy.

"Anyways... can you fix it?"

Mike pauses in the doorway of your bedroom as you give him a sheepish smile and gesture to something in the corner.

Holy hell. Is that supposed to be a shelf? Mike can't help but think that the hideous agglomeration of boards and screws would only be good as a fire-starter. It looks more like a pile than a shelf.

"Uhh..." He bites his cheek, desperately trying not to burst into a fit of laughter. Maybe you really weren't lying about the whole "no good with tools" thing.

He finally loses it when you groan and flop down on the bed, hiding your face in a pillow.

"Ughh... Laugh at me, whatever. Just fix it."

"Jesus Christ. This has to be the sorriest excuse for a shelf I've ever seen. Sure you don't want me to haul it to the junkyard instead?" He snorts, sitting down on the edge of your bed and looking with disdain at the half-assedly assembled shelf.

Mike immediately shuts his mouth when you glare at him. Oops, right, you're in a bad mood.

"I mean, uh... you tried?" He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. He still can't believe you're actually this inept when it comes to assembly.

"Get to work, Schmidt."

Mike yelps as you kick him off the bed, but doesn't bother retaliating. He just grabs his toolbox and sits on the floor, examining the so-called "shelf".

"Well, the first step is going to be un-doing everything you did."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You lie on your stomach in bed, chin propped up on your hands as you kick your feet in the air and ponder the sight before you. Mike's back is turned to you as he quietly works away taking apart the monstrosity you assembled.

"How long is this gonna take?"

"Well, If it wasn't so..." He trails off, glancing at you and choosing his words more carefully.

"...sturdy, it'd be a lot easier to take apart."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

He gives you an incredulous look and gestures to a series of nails in a corner where two boards meet. It does look pretty ridiculous, the sharp ends pointing out the other side. Not your best work.

"You put nails in it, sweetheart." He scoffs.

"How else was I supposed to keep it together?" You give him your best pout, and gloat internally when he has to turn away. He's absolutely infatuated with you. Even the back of his neck is pink.

"It comes with screws for a reason, ya know."

"There's a difference?"

He turns and gives you a flat look, and you laugh. Damn. You can play dumb with him, but maybe not that dumb. Noted.

Still, it's a little boring just laying there and watching him grumble and pull nails from wood. You can't really mess with him too much either, because you really do what him to fix the stupid shelf.

"You want something to drink?" You finally break the silence, under the guise of trying to be a good hostess.

"Pfft. Need some whiskey to deal with this bullshit." He snorts, pulling yet another nail free. He'd almost gotten one board off. One. This was gonna take a while.

"I was thinking more along the lines of soda or tea."

"Jack and Coke, then?"

"Mike. It's hardly past noon."

"So?" He scoffs. "For me, this is like... evening, or something. I dunno. Sleep schedule's fucked with this new job."

That answer makes you pause.

"What is it you do now, anyway?"

He groans, finally prying one of the boards free of the clusterfuck.

"Night guard. Told you already, remember?" He tries to shrug the question off, but you're nosy.

"Where?"

"Uhh... Freddy Fazbear's Pizza..."

"Speak up."

"Ugh. It's this stupid rundown hellhole pizzeria. Honestly dunno why anyone would wanna break in there anyways. It's a dump."

"What kind of a pizzeria needs a night guard? Or any guard?"

"The haunted kind."

You decide not to ask about that, simply shaking your head as you walk to the door. He's truly a loon. A loveable loon, unfortunately.

"Just tell me what you want to drink, Mikey, or I'm getting you water."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike sits on the floor of your bedroom sipping his glass of water and wondering how he got here. If you'd told him a week ago he'd be building his witch of an ex-girlfriend a shelf, he would've gagged. Now...? Well, he just wants to go join you on that bed.

"So are you really just gonna sit there and look pretty while I do all the work?"

"Aww, you think I'm pretty, Mikey? You smile, lying on the bed with your feet kicking in the air, giving him a look of pure adoration. It wasn't hard to do.

"Pretty annoying, yeah." He turns away with a scoff, returning to his work. If only he could get this stupid nail untangled from the other two... why would anyone use this many nails?

"You know, I think I liked you better gagged."

"Oh I know, sweetheart. I could see it in those evil eyes of yours." He can't help but smirk a bit at the comment, though. Sometimes he liked himself better gagged, too. He shakes the thought away and keeps working.

"Why can't you just get on hands and knees and beg me to take you back already?" You huff dramatically and roll over onto your back, letting your head fall over the edge of the bed. He looks silly from this angle. Upside-down.

That question nearly makes Mike drop his tools. Were you serious?

"Why? So you can laugh me off again?"

Ouch. It was true you'd turned him down the last time he'd tried it, but that was six months ago.

"Maybe if you used those big brown puppy eyes of yours on me."

That only earns you a grunt, so you verbally prod him again.

"Besides, why can't I do both? Laugh at you, then take you back? Sounds fun."

"Pfft. Fun? To toy with me? You'd probably break up with me all over again just for shits and giggles." He responds bitterly, still refusing to turn around.

"Mikey. Look at me." You roll back over onto your stomach and rest your chin in your hands as he slowly meets your gaze.

"I didn't break up with you just for shits and giggles. You know that. I'm not letting you sit there and wallow in self-pity."

Mike goes stiff from your words, but your tone is soft, and your eyes even softer. You're still giving him that adoring look. Damn it.

"Well maybe I'd rather wallow in self pity than admit you were right all along."

"You've had six months to wallow. Grow a pair and come kiss me."

He can't say no to that. Not when you look at him that way. He shuffles over, kneeling by the side of your bed. On his knees for you again, damnit.

You kiss him. It's different from the lustful, sloppy kiss you shared last time. This one makes you feel warm. You kiss him again. And again.

Mike really doesn't want this to end, but the knot in his stomach forces him to pull away. He has to ask.

"Why? Why are you doing this, I mean? Do you really want... to take me back?" He sputters, looking down at the floor.

"I'm not completely sure yet." You answer honestly, shifting and lying back on the bed.

Damn. That's not the answer he wanted to hear.

"Are you-"

"Come here."

When you pat the spot next to you in bed, Mike melts. He's a wreck right now, but still wants nothing more than to be with you, in every sense of the word. He silently complies.

"It's not about right and wrong, you know. As much as I love being told I'm right." You give him a soft smile, breaking the silence and placing your hand on top of his as you both lie on your sides.

Damn it. He'd done this with you before, this and so much more. Why was such a small touch turning him to goo?

"What isn't?"

"The breakup. It's about growing as a person. As people. Both of us." You lace your fingers with his, and can't help but laugh as his face reaches a level of pink you've never seen before.

"And what exactly am I supposed to be growing out of?"

"Pfft. I don't know, the emotional unavailability? The way you never made time for me? Constant irritability?" You start to dramatically list off his flaws, using your free hand to count on your fingers.

"Okay, okay. I get it." He huffs, and grabs your hand before you can make fun of him more. Instead, he guides it to his side, pulling you in a little closer.

"And you're miss perfect?"

"No. 'Course not. I have flaws too." You give him a sly smile, and start listing your own "faults".

"Too hot and sexy, too intelligent, too kind, amazing, sweet and caring..."

That's as far as you get before Mike scoots closer, burying his face in your neck and giving you a playful nip.

"Too arrogant." He adds with a laugh, wrapping his arm around you and letting himself melt further into you.

"My arrogance is one of my best qualities, thank you." You reply haughtily, sliding your hand up his back and into his hair.

Mike couldn't speak, even if he could somehow find the right words to say. Everything in this moment felt so right. His arm around you. Your fingers in his hair. He lets out a soft groan instead.

You aren't exactly eager to let go of this moment either, and just hold him for a few minutes. It feels nice to play with his soft brown curls.

"I'll do better. Please." He finally mumbles something to you, not bothering to move his face from where it's buried in the crook of your neck.

"Please what, Mikey?"

"Take me back."

He finally pulls back, just enough to give you a glimpse of those puppy eyes of his. Damn it. How could you even think of saying no?

"Yeah. Okay."

You both lean in for another round of soft passionate kisses, and Mike feels himself relax completely. His stomach unknots and his mind goes numb. For the first time in months, he feels completely safe.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"So does this mean you'll babysit for me again?"

"Go finish the shelf, Schmidt."

"Yes, Princess."

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

♡ Epilogue ♡

Over the past few weeks, you and Mike had fallen into a sort of rhythm.

He never did end up finding a new babysitter, and besides, you're the only one who could ever get Abby to finish her dinner. You had to graduate her from daily witching lessons to weekly ones, though, convincing her she needed to study for the more advanced spells. Secretly, Mike was just losing track of which objects in his house were supposedly invisible. It was quite amusing to watch.

Mike's favorite part of the day was coming home to you already asleep in his bed, and waking you up with a kiss. He'd then either lie down in bed while you shower, or hop in there with you, depending on how you felt. Either way, he loved the view.

The conflicting schedules made things complicated, but you were able to work around it. Mike slept better with you holding him, and consequentially, was a lot more agreeable. He did his best to make more time for both you and Abby.

He even started to open up to you for once, letting you take on some of his burdens. This man sure had a lot of guilt. You were certain he hadn't yet told you everything, but he told you enough. At least you finally knew what the fucking NEBRASKA poster on the ceiling was for. Now you kind of felt bad for all the times you teased him about it the first time you dated.

As for the damn shelf... well, he finished it. It was still hideous, but it was functional. There were holes in it from the nails, and the wood had even started to splinter in a few spots. You couldn't bring yourself to get rid of it, though. Not after how much work you both put into it. Even if most of Mike's work revolved around un-doing yours.

It definitely wasn't a perfect relationship, not by far. But Mike never promised to be the perfect boyfriend. He just promised to be better.

And he was, bit by bit, every day. Better. ♡

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note:

Thank you all for the love!! This was my first time writing a fanfic of any kind so I'm really happy so many of you enjoyed it. Feels good to bring the story to an end.

Feel free to send me a request, I'd love to write more fics about Mike. Or any other J-hutch character for that matter, Mikey is just my favorite <3

[moethh]

dashboard simulator but with saints

⚔ knight--lover Follow

I ASKED FOR ROMANCE BOOKS AND THIS IS WHAT THEY GAVE ME???!?!??? WHAT AM I LOOKING AT????? 💀💀💀

♻️ ⚔ knight--lover Follow

nvm this stuffs good 💀

#like actually??? #gonna keep reading these while my leg is still healing #recovery update

15 notes

🌹 littlefl0wer Follow

cosplay!

♻️ ⚜ born-to-do-this Follow

Oh this is incredible! I love it!

♻️ 🌹 littlefl0wer Follow

oh my goodness?! thank you so much!! ❤️❤️❤️

#wow! i didn't know you would actually see this! #i'm so happy you like it!! #<3 #edit: we're mutuals now!!!

442 notes

🌟 host-prince Follow

EVERYONE‼ Below is a list of users who are ACTUAL DEMONS. PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH THEM. Just block and report. Stay safe everyone.

Keep reading

#I am not going to add trigger or content warnings to this post as I want people to see it. #However #you are obviously free to add them to your own reblogs if you wish to do so.

15,837 notes

🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow

🤔

♻️ 💧 locustman Follow

???? Uncle???????? What is this????? What does this Mean????????

♻️ 🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow

👍

♻️ 💧 locustman Follow

???????????????????????????????????? @'mom? Can you explain? Please????

♻️ 👑 mom Follow

Idk

♻️ 🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow

👍

1,118 notes

⚔ knight--lover Follow

PH M

OH MY GOSH. Ok. Rant incoming.

So there's this guy I'm traveling with and GET THIS: HE DOESN'T BELIEVE IN @/mom's PERPETUAL VIRGINITY?!?!??!?!

I'm thinking of killing him. Like. Actually. I'm not even kidding. I genuinely can't decide whether or not I should kill him.

So you guys should decide:

#rant #my polls #tw antidicomarian #cw antidicomarian #please vote or else i'll just let my horse decide for goodness' sake

216 notes

👑 mom Follow

Alright, someone tagged me on @knight--lover's poll so this is my response to it:

♻️ ⚔ knight--lover Follow

Hm. I'll think about it.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

♻️ 👑 mom Follow

YOUNG MAN.

#Ignatius. Come on.

523 notes

🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

Wow! I've just found a ton of these little guys in a part of the monastery I've never been in before!

♻️ 👤 purrtrude

seems like your monastery needs one of these

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

NO!!

♻️ 👤 purrtrude

what? don't like cats?

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

I LIKE THE MICE!!

♻️ 👤 purrtrude

if you could save all the mice in the world, would you if all the cats starved to death?

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

??? What?????? I am so confused.

Are you implying that cats only eat mice, and if they couldn't, then they would just. Die? What is happening.

♻️ 🕯 claaaaaare Follow

Hey, @fraaaaaancis. Just curious how you would solve this.

♻️ 🐺 fraaaaaancis Follow

Hm. Well, it seems that St. Gertrude's situation is implying that you could only save either all cats or all mice with no survivors on the other side. To me, she is just asking which animal you like more.

There is really nothing to solve? This whole situation is very strange.

♻️ 🐱 gertie-the-kitty Follow

THATS NOT EVEN ME??? WHO IS THAT THAT IS NOT ME

@host-prince @host-prince @host-prince??????

♻️ 🌟 host-prince Follow

purrtrude is definitely Not You.

♻️ 📜 more-of-thomas Follow

OP is this your post?

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

#wghhhhghghhh #i just wanted to show off the mice...... #they're living happily by the way! i bring them food!

374 notes

🎨 luke-the-artpostle Follow

#my art #artists on christblr

1,852,658 notes

🐲 marthamartha Follow

look at this Thing. with that look you would probably think that the man just so happened to crawl in its mouth. what a Creature.

anyways does anyone have a sword

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

WILL PEOPLE IN THE NOTES STOP TELLING ME TO KEEP IT??? AS IF IT HASN'T KILLED PEOPLE?????

in case anyone forgot, this is a literal DRAGON

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

@turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side???????????? what??????????

♻️ 🍳 turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side Follow

I fail to see what needs explaining. Where did it live?

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

I-

Ok. It lived in the water.

♻️ 🍳 turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side Follow

hm. Maybe it would taste like fish?

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

Maybe. I honestly don't know what the townspeople did with the body. They just asked me for help 🤷‍♀️

♻️ 📜 more-of-thomas Follow

#??????????????? #I am somewhat concerned for you two #(for all of my mutuals actually but as of seeing this post right now I am very concerned for Lawrence especially) #But I shan't say that I'm surprised considering that Lawrence told jokes while he was burning alive #and now that's his username for some reason #As a fellow joke-maker I suppose I admire that? #But as a human being I am concerned

563 notes

[thedegu]

Tag yourself, what you bring when you go out:

Bard: Alongside the necessities, you always bring either a musical instrument and/or a full makeup set. You never know when a party might start! Your bag is either $2 or $200. You make it work either way. Essentials? eh, if they're in there, they're in there.

Barbarian: phone wallet keys. Pants have pockets for a reason. If you're feeling spicy, you'll have a multi tool on your Keychain

Cleric: At LEAST one first aid kit, two lip balms snacks and drinks, bug spray and sunscreen for you freinds who forgot to put it on. Your purse weighs as much as a neutron star, but at least it's cute!

Druid: same as cleric, but you, instead of a purse, use one of those huge reusable grocery bags. More emphasis on snacks than the first aid kit (someone else will probably have that coveted, right?) But you might also have some loose dog treats in the bottom of your bag, so pay attention when snacking.

Fighter: You carry a backpack or over-the-shoulder duffel, but your phone wallet and other essentials are kept in your pockets because it's easier to access. What do you keep in your bag? Well, at least one knife and assorted tools and emergency supplies. You keep on forgetting to put in that first aid kit, but then you'd probably need to take out that 75 piece screwdriver kit, which, tbh is more useful in more situations.

Rainger: Look, you HAVE a bag, or... had one... you just leave it at home more often than you remember it. Look, you don't really need your phone when you're on a hike, right? And the trail mix in your pocket should be enough, too. Or you have a fanny pack that is more akin to a benign tumor. There is no in between.

Rogue: Just.... so many pockets. Like, sewing extra pockets into the inside of your jacket. Like "How did you fit that sub sandwich inside of there" pockets. Like you somehow have all of the tools you need for any reason on your person at any time without a bag amount of pocket. When you're fully suited up, your clothes work as a weighted blanket. It's honestly impressive and slightly terrifying.

Paladin: Like.... a bag?? Over the shoulder with RFID protection. Nothing too fancy either, phone, wallet, keys. Snacks and a small tube of sunscreen and maybe a hand warmer in the winter. Just get the job done, if you need something more you'll take it when you need it.

Wizard: You got the backpack on sale. That's what matters to you. Never mind how it makes your back hurt or that it's falling to pieces. It holds your books and laptop and.... ah, hm, everything else you need. Oh! It does have a cool wallet compartment... just let me... oh, it's so hard to get to give me one second... really, I do have the cash for this coffee. I swear one... oh, there goes my thesaurus.

Warlock: bags are meant as a fashion statement over their utility. Yeah, I can only fit my phone or my wallet in it, but I look good doing it, so what does it matter. Black is always in season, and so are chunky boots and spiked collars. Well it's not like you'll be going out without your freinds, you might as well have them hold your things, they honestly shouldn't trust you with your own credit cards anyway so it's a win-win

Sorcerer: You have one of those electronic bags that fallows you, and you've never looked back. Yes, it might be risky. Yes, taking a full luggage bag everywhere is a bit excessive. But if it does get stolen, the glitter bomb inside will make everything worth it. Hm? Where do you keep essentials? Oh, front pants pocket and brest pocket nbd.

[vodika-vibes]

I would love to see Wrecker with Topaz in the winter! Warm soup, cozy fireside snuggles, and just sheer cuteness! 💕

Silent Night

Summary: After Wrecker and the Batch’s Medic are stranded in the middle of a winter wonderland, Wrecker decides to make the best of it.

Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader

Word Count: 725

Warnings: None

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: This one fought me at every turn. I knew what I wanted it to say, but I'm not sure I managed to make it as soft and sweet as I wanted. Oh well, Happy reading!

“You know, you’re pretty good at this, Doc.” Wrecker says with a grin as his gaze drifts from the fish he’s cleaning, to where the team medic is crouching next to a roaring fire. 

The light from the orange flames gives her an almost ethereal look, and Wrecker has a look away before he gets too distracted. “Well,” She admits as she clears a space of snow, as best as she can, and pulls the tent out of his kit, “Mom and dad divorced when I was a kid. And while mom had a nice house, dad wasn’t so lucky. So his weekends were usually spent camping.”

“So you could probably clean this fish then?” Wrecker asks, as he glances at her curiously.

She smiles sheepishly, “Well, dad did show me how, but you’re doing a wonderful job.”

He grins at her, and sets his knife to the side, “Well, as it happens, I’m done anyway. You have everything set up?”

“Yep. Just toss everything in the pot.”

Wrecker does as she instructs, and watches as she adds a few packets of seasoning, as well as some dehydrated vegetables, “I’m guessing your dad had you doing most of the cooking?”

“Yeah. Well, he wasn’t very good at cooking, really. So it was either learn to cook, or me and my siblings were going to end up with tapeworms or something.” Wrecker sits on the flat rock that she found…somewhere…and starts cleaning his knife.

“You know, you don’t talk about your family often.”

She glances at him, “Well, there’s not really much to say, is there?” She drops the contents of a second package into the pot, and then sits next to Wrecker, “My family is just average.”

“I’m not sure what an average family is,” Wrecker points out, “Though I bet Tech could tell me.”

She laughs, “Right, right. Well, there’s mom. She was a housewife up until she and dad got divorced, and then she got a job at the local elementary school getting me and my siblings free tuition. Dad was a firefighter who had a gambling issue. And then there’s the kids, my other brother, me, and our younger sister.”

“Well, you’re a doctor. What do your siblings do?”

“My brother is a chef at some big name restaurant on Coruscant. My sister is trying to become an actress, though she’s only really starred in commercials.” She shrugs, “Like I said, normal. Your family is so much more interesting.”

He laughs, “That’s one word for them.” Wrecker finishes cleaning his knife and stashes it away, “Are you comfortable?”

“Hm?”

“It’s kind of cold.” Wrecker points out.

“Oh, I’m alright. The fire is helping, and Hunter insisted I wear cold weather gear for this mission.” She hesitates, “Do…do you think-?”

“I’m sure they’re fine. Tech is there, after all.” Wrecker drapes an arm over her shoulder and tugs her against his side, “We’re the ones who have to camp outside in the snow.”

She smiles shyly, “I’m not worried.”

“No?”

“I have you here, don’t I?” She asked with a small, almost flirty, smile.

Wrecker’s heart flips nervously, “I…uh…”

She tilts her head, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Nah, Doc. I’m just…I’m not Hunter or Crosshair, I’m not used to flirting.” Wrecker admits.

“I’ll stop, if you want.”

“Well now, I didn’t say that.”

She laughs, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, “I like you, Wrecker. You’re fun and you make me laugh and you make me feel safe. I’d like to go on a proper date with you, if I can.”

Wrecker blinks at her, “You…you do?”

“Yeah, if it’s alright.”

“We don’t really…there isn’t much time for proper dating-” Wrecker stammers, “And I don’t get paid-”

“I do get paid, and, well, it doesn’t have to be a big thing, Wrecker. I just want to spend time with you.”

“Well, in that case, can’t this be considered a date?” Wrecker points out.

She looks startled for a moment, and then she beams at him, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She lifts to her knees slightly and presses a light kiss against his cheek, before she settles next to him again.

Wrecker presses his hand against his burning cheek, a wide grin that he isn’t even trying to stifle. 

Being stranded here isn’t as bad as it could be.

[melodygatesauthor]

Not So Solitary

Blue Jones X f!patient!Reader

@campingwiththecharmings I've done it, thank you for the prompt I'm so happy. I am still working on getting some other Blue Jones works going, but I'm happy to have your request be the first Blue fic in my journey lol.

*pic is not representative of Reader. Reader is not coded.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, Blue Jones is his own tag, dub-con, implied coercion, inappropriate relationship (orderly/asylum patient), patient in straight jacket, crying, vaginal sex, p in v creampie, rough sex, mentions of dacryphilia

Word Count: 918

“Blue.” You said in surprise as the Head Orderly burst open the door to your solitary room.

He shut the door behind himself and stepped toward you, closing the gap in just a few short strides. His large fingers wrapped around your throat quickly and he pinned you back against the wall. His eyes were big, scanning you. He was breathing so heavy that his chest was heaving.

“I’m so sorry, Blue, I-”

His lips slotted against yours harshly. He kissed you in messy wet kisses, rough and desperate while his fingers tightened around your neck. When he pulled back you gasped for air. You knew he was upset, he was always upset when you, his favorite plaything, got taken from him. He often said he didn’t like “having his toys taken away.”

“You can’t do shit like that…” He started tugging at your pants.

You were in a straight jacket, unable to help him with your clothing, but he seemed to have no problem getting them down himself. He pulled his own down, his movements were hasty and sloppy as he fumbled with the belt in one hand. He wasn’t going to release your throat for anything, he was glad to have you back, but furious all the same.

“Please don’t be mad, please-”

“Sh!” He said harshly, “shut up.”

You started to cry, which you knew he loved anyway. He grabbed your hip with his free hand and thrust himself into you. This wasn’t the most comfortable position, being pinned in solitary confinement with your back against the wall in a straight jacket, but it had been so long since you’d felt the full girth of Blue’s thick cock that you didn’t care.

“B-Blue oh my…ah.” You gasped as his grip got tighter.

His forehead rested against yours, you closed your eyes tight, squeezing a few stray tears down your cheeks.

“No, no you open your eyes.” He said, churning his hips upward into you. “You’re gonna look at me.”

You opened them and met with his intense gaze. He frightened you as much as he aroused you.

“You think you’re tough or something? Picking fights with the other girls? Huh?” He asked, licking his lips.

“N-no.” You trembled as he thrust into you again harshly. “I saw them looking at you and-”

“And what? Hm?”

“I was so jealous.” Your sobs were inconsolable.

“You can’t be doing shit like that.” He shook his head. “No, no, no baby, I need you. You keep doing stuff like this, they're going to take you away from me.”

He strengthened the grip on your hip to fuck into you faster. It had been so long since you felt the slick glide of his cock against your walls. So long since you felt the soft brush of his pubic hair against your clit. His lips connected with yours once more, stealing sobs and moans from your mouth. His body trembled, like having you was the greatest luxury the world could afford, and he was desperate to have you, to claim you.

“Is that what you want? You want them to take you away from me?” His volume was rising the angrier he got.

“No, Blue, no I’m so sorry, I’ll be good I swear.” You felt your cunt flutter with another upward jolt of his hips.

“How can I take care of you when you’re in here and I’m not allowed to see you? Hm?” His voice broke, and you saw his own eyes start welling.

He started slamming into you harder, frantic, desperate to remind you who you belonged to, as if it were ever a question in your mind. His kissing became more sloppy, wet and accompanied with his heavy breathing. Blue started grunting into you, slamming your body so badly it hurt. He wasn’t supposed to leave marks, none of the orderlies were, but there was no way you were leaving that room without a necklace of bruises.

“I am so sorry, Blue. Please, I'm sorry.” You sobbed, “I won’t do it again I promise.”

“That’s right…” His body couldn’t get closer to yours if he tried, he was crushing you, filling you as far as he could go. He spoke through gritted teeth, pressing his face to your ear, “you’re not going to do anything to get yourself taken from me again, understand? Don’t make me have to remind you…oh shit…you’re mine…mine”

Blue was loud when he came, filling the small room with his breathy moans and shuddered whimpers. His body trembled with every pulse of his cock, pumping you full with his spend. Your own orgasm tore through your body so white hot you started almost screaming as your walls contracted over his length in waves. His moans quieted to deep heavy breaths as he finished. When he stepped back he released you, but you could still feel the phantom fingers around your throat.

He pulled your pants up for you before getting his own back in place and secured with his belt. He grabbed your cheeks together tightly and looked into your eyes. His lips were pressed together tight while he looked between each pupil rapidly.

“You gotta stop this shit, or I’m going to have to do something drastic, you understand? You’re mine, I won’t let them keep you from me.” He let go of your face before opening the door.

You’d spend the rest of the day walking around with Blue dripping out of you, just the way he liked it.

[spacebarbarianweird]

In Another Life, We Would Have Been a Family

Synopsis: Tiriel never knew her real father and Kay Dathnyar never knew he had one more daughter. Sylenn Ancunin, Astarion's mother, grieved her son and kept going. But what if one day… Tiriel's dad and Astarion's mum meet?

Tags: Astarion's mother, Tav's father, dadstarion

I really enjoyed writing Sylenn Acnunin in Past Grief so I decided to give her more agency. In this fic you will know about her past and how come she knew Balduran.The fic is set a day prior Dhampirs of the Sword Coast

Alethaine's age - 24 years-old

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Kay Dathnyar recently turned 100 years old. Underage by elven standard, he’s been married thrice, fathered five half-elves, and has had seven grandkids and ten great-grandkids. 

For the last twenty years, he’s owned a tavern called “The Last Pixie” and is always ready to tell passersby why elves are a done cause.

“We are going extinct anyway,” he says to push anyone drunk enough to leave the tavern. “We need to fuck as many humans as we can and pass some decent bits of elven culture to our half-elven kids. Humans and half-bloods, that’s the future, not us!”

Kay is also proud to say he knows everything about his progeny. Dates of birth, fears and desires, favorite dishes and activities. He is often asked to solve issues between them and proudly takes the role of a wise advisor, but since he is still young, his advice isn’t always rational.

“Do you have any idea how many kids you have?” A tiefling called Birgga asks him. He is older than Kay by a decade and uses it to his advantage. 

“I have at least five,” Kay puts a mug of ale in front of him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, none of your wives has made you monogamous. There must be more than five.”

“Nonsense!” he says, noticing his wife, a forty-year-old blacksmith watching.

“Hm, wasn’t it you who slept with a married woman in the Sunset mountains? You are lucky her husband was away! The chieftain would have flayed you alive.”

“Well, even if it happened 80 years ago, I’ve been smart enough not to return there. They would definitely recognize me!”

“It’s difficult not to. Your face was made for mugshots.”

“I doubt they have them in those wild places. Maybe I should have taken that gal with me.”

“Ughm, her and her three sons?”

“The more the better, Birgga. Oh, how can you know? You don’t have children at all. Maybe we should find you a wife. Or do you prefer men?”

“Fuck you, elves, and your bisexuality.”

The tavern is quiet. There haven’t been any visitors for days – people are whispering something about demons and monsters on the roads. Some even talked about the mind flayers' attack on Baldur’s Gate that happened 45 years ago but Kay thinks that’s not really the cause of the stillness.

Still, there have been very few visitors. It's not like Kay needed money (he’s got enough saved in his chests), but the elf dislikes not seeing new faces.

A soft knock at the door snaps him out of his thoughts.

**

Sylenn Ancunin notices the tavern from a distance.

“The Last Pixie''. The slur is written in both Common and Elven (and also in Infernal) and Sylenn wonders if she should even enter the place. She knows the hostility of N’Tel-Quessira too well and she isn’t in the mood and shape to fight. 

She is five centuries old but still wears heavy armor like she did when she was young. 

But she doesn't want to. Sylenn is old and bitter even though she looks young. 

And she is coming home to Evereska to pay respects to her husband who was much older than her and must have been dead for centuries. And to wither in peace, hoping the Seldarine will have mercy on her.

“Come in, whoever you might be! We barely have guests!”

Sylenn enters the tavern and sees another elf at the bar.

“Welcome to the Last Pixie, etriel. Do you wish for a room or a drink? Or maybe both?” The elf outstretches his right hand to her in the human greeting.  “Name’s Kay Dathnyar, I am the proud owner of this place!”

“Owner,” Sylenn looks at him. “Then why did you call this place like that?”

“The Last Pixie? Well, aren’t we all the last of our kind? Here, have a drink.”

Sylenn watches Kay. He is young, underage even. Dark hair, green eyes. Moon elf, like her. But he talks like a human, even his elven words reveal an accent. 

One of these young souls who think they can live among humans and not suffer from constant grief.

“Are you an adventurer?” Kay asks.

“I was once,” Sylenn says. “Well, I still am. Sometimes.”

“How much for telling me why the fuck no one wanders these roads?”

“Yeah!” The tiefling adds. “It’s bad for business, you know? And we are peaceful people here, we enjoy ale and meat and would like to keep it this way!”

Sylenn notices three human girls watching her from the stairs. They watch Sylenn with the awe human children have for elves. 

“Go to sleep, you, three!” Kay orders.

“But Grandpa!”

“Go to sleep, or I won’t allow you to stay here after sunset! Kids…” He adds when girls disappear upstairs. “They grow so fast! Like, one day they perfectly fit in one arm and the next week you are beating the shit out of their boyfriends!”

“Are they yours?” 

“All mine, five children, seven grandkids, and ten great-grandkids. All live in Delimbiyr Vale but mostly here, in Loudwater. Family business.”

Sylenn frowns.

“I am sorry for you.”

“What for?”

“Because they will die. And you will bury them. Every single one of them.”

Birgga makes a disgruntled sound.

“Do you think I am not aware of that? I have buried two of my human wives and soon will become a widower for the third time,” Kay switches to Elven. “I’ve chosen this life.”

“You don’t fully understand. There is nothing worse than burying your own children. My daughter was killed when she was four. And my son… My son died bleeding to death in the streets of Baldur’s Gate. You’ve condemned yourself, Kay Dathnyar.”

“Well, etriel, then I welcome you to the house of the condemned!”

Sylenn decides to get drunk. Ale doesn’t affect her easily and she keeps ordering more till even Birgga starts giving her advice on how to avoid a hangover. 

“I have never seen anyone with her constitution drink that much!” Birgga mutters to Kay.

“You know how they say dwarves have the best ale tolerance? It’s a lie. Elves live for centuries and we can drink pure alcohol by the time we are old enough to forget our youth.”

“Well, at least she pays.”

“I am giving her a discount.”

“Why? Kay, since when you are into charity?” Birgga almost hisses.

Sylenn pretends she doesn’t hear them.  A young half-elf, who introduced himself as Lym and who has the same black hair as his father, keeps bringing her drinks.

Another shitty thing about being so old.You can’t get drunk.

A weird quirk – Sylenn remembers her grandfather, who was eight hundred when she was born, complaining he can’t drink away his memories. She laughed at him back then but now she suspects she inherited the same trait.

And she wishes she could have shut the memories up.

Her first husband, her thiramin, the love of her whole life, slaughtered by humans like prey. Their daughter, a silver-curled baby, brutally murdered by orcs when she was only four. Sylenn’s friends, aging and dying. Her second husband – Caeldrim. He was so much older than her that everyone thought she was his daughter. A good person, wise and reserved. Sylenn left him to look for their son in Baldur’s Gate, where she found nothing but his grave in the human cemetery. After that, she decided to never return to Evereska.

Maybe it was her fault, after all. She was told not to give her son an adult name right away. A bad sign. But she insisted that the baby boy in her arms must be named Astarion and should he not like it, he would be free to choose another one later.

And he died. Barely forty, a child by elven standards. Murdered and buried, all alone. She shouldn’t have let him go. Maybe later, when he would have been more prepared for the life out there.

“Hey, what’s happening?” Suddenly, Kay rushes to the doors. Sylenn hears distant cries and the sound of something heavy collapsing on wooden buildings. “Lym, get your brothers!”

Sylenn gets up and reaches for her sword and shield.

“Kay, hide everyone inside. It’s not a battle you can win.”

“It’s just an ogre.”

“That's not the point. Tell everyone to hide inside!”

Sylenn quickly fastens the straps of her heavy armor and prepares the shield and sword. 

A creature made of stone and wrath is crushing trees and barns. It grabs unfortunate village dwellers, smashing them just for the sake of it, and their lifeless bodies fall on the ground.

Ogremoch.

What in hell is it doing so far from the Earth plane?

“You!” Sylenn yells. “Attack someone who can fight back! Come closer! My sword is eager to pierce your stone flesh!”

“Sylenn, for fuck sake!’ Kay grabs her hand but Sylenn easily sets herself free and the young elf falls down. “Go and protect your family!”

The ogremoch roars and rushes towards her ready to smash the elven warrior with its fist. Sylenn protects herself with her shield, almost breaking the e monster’s arm.

She immediately jumps to her right and keeps her stance.

But before she manages to attack, the monster sweeps her off her feet. Her helmet flies away.

A powerful blow to her chest, which even heavy armor cannot protect her from, knocks the spirit out of the elven warrior. She coughs blood. The world gets blurry around her, and she can’t hear anything but the ringing in her ears.

Astarion must have felt the same, she thinks. When he was beaten to death.

Another blow.

She can feel the beast’s anger. How is she still alive? All thanks to the heavy armor.

Maybe she should just let the orgremoch do what it wants?

Sylenn has been hoping to die in battle. Sure, being murdered by a mindless creature in a village so tiny maps forget to mention it doesn’t sound particularly noble…

But why not?

Sylenn smiles.

“Corellon Larethian, to you I give my soul… Have… Mercy… On… Me,” Sylenn croaks, slipping into oblivion.

A whistle pierces the air. Ogremoch shrieks as a crossbow’s bolt gets stuck in its right eye.

“Fuck off from my property!” Kay Dathnyar recharges. 

Ogremoch rushes to the young elf but fails to catch him. Kay helps Sylenn to get off the ground. 

“Move!” Sylenn adopted her stance again. “Shoot from a distance!”

With a battle cry, Sylenn Ancunín lunges forward and her sword pierces the stone-like monster’s skin.

Alright, she thinks, as the monster collapses and her own legs wobble.

Not today, I guess.

Kay helps her to stand up and allows hSylenner to lean on him while walking her back to the tavern.

“I would have carried you on my shoulders, but my back wouldn’t thank me.”

“I've already been carried this month like that,” she says. “A dhampir. Alethaine or Athelaine. Carried me from a dungeon as if I weighed no more than a cat.”

“A dhampir?” Kay notices. “Vampires have been breeding like rabbits over the past 40 years, dhampirs are as common as tieflings now!”

“I beg your pardon!” Birgga helps Sylenn to unfasten her armor.

“I tell you, It's like some asshole released a bunch of vampires all at once,” Kay says.

“Hm, about 30 years ago I fucked a woman…” Birgga reminisced. 

“Congratulations, you won’t die a virgin.”

“... I fucked a woman and she was so cold and pale, I am sure she was a vampire!”

Sylenn, finally free of her armor, groans. It seems like she hasn’t received any serious damage, but she feels exhausted and weak. 

“Kay is right, there have been too many half-undeads and undeads recently. And also monsters and demons. The world’s wheel is in motion again and I doubt these changes will do us any good.”

Suddenly, Sylenn notices there are a bunch of young humans and half elves gathering outside the tavern. Not all look like Kay, so she suspects it’s just village kids. 

“Look, it’s her! The elf who killed the monster!”

“Did you see it? She murdered it like Thetir the Dragonslayer!”

“Hey!” Kay notices them. “Leave her be!”

“That’s all right,” Sylenn smiles. “Let them.”

The small crowd of youthlings immediately surround Sylenn.

“How old are you?” A human girl whose nose and eyes resemble Kay’s.

One of the older girls shushes at her.

“I am 517.”

“Wow! It means you are almost as old as Baldur’s Gate!���

Sylenn grabs a mug of ale. 

“I was Balduran’s bodyguard in the times when he founded the city.”

A cheer of awe erupts among the kids.

It’s fun to talk to these children. Sylenn has lived so long she’s forgotten her life wasn’t only grief and sorrows.

“... So, Balduran comes to me, angry as a troll, and yells ‘Sylenn! Stop drinking when I am talking to you!’ And I was like, ‘Balduran, with all the respect I don’t feel for you, I cannot take your bullshit seriously when I am sober!’”

“... And then I realized they were sailing west and if I didn’t quit now I would have to spend months watching Balduran and Ansur having their love drama. So, I stood at the aft of the ship, opened my arms, and fell into the sea. And seconds later it came to my mind that, maybe, I shouldn’t have jumped into the open sea in full armor! My grandpa would always tell me: ‘Syl, your brain is capable of only one coherent thought per day, and even then it backfires!’”

“... So, I got right into the evil sorceress's lair and she looked at me, in all her dark magic glory, and said ‘Sylenn Ancunin, I thought you were smarter.’ And my first husband, who she’d taken hostage, stares at her and says: ‘Lady, honestly, you really thought SHE WAS SMART?!’”

“... All right, all right, by the time I got my adult name, I finally learned not to mess with things that were bigger than me. I got a quest from a wood elf. Don’t remember his name, their clan was called Goldenroots or Goldenboughs, for some reason, they’d translated it to Common. And a young elf asked me to look after his father who’d run away with a sword. Their ancestors were Star Elves and they were passing a very particular sword from father to son. I went looking for the old elf and found him dead – he died in the dumbest way! He’d picked a spear which was clearly cursed. I took the sword – a very beautiful one and magical to the point it probably had its own will. Returned it back to the owner and was like ‘Bad news, your father died.’ And this Goldenroot elf chuckled and said ‘Thank gods I don’t have to tolerate his bullshit anymore. I hope he will reincarnate as a drow.’” Family dynamics can be so weird!”

**

“I am leaving,” Sylenn says to Kay two days later. “I am going East.”

“To Evereska?”

She nods. 

“It was nice to meet you, Sylenn.” He smiles.

“The feeling is mutual. Uluvathae, Kay!”

“Wait, these lands are dangerous to walk alone. Follow me.”

Kay takes Sylenn to the horse farm at the edge of the village. A herd of horses with silvery manes grazes peacefully in the grass, and their master, a young man in his twenties, sleeps by the stable.

“They look like horses from Evereska, but they are bigger,” she notices.

“We breed them with regular horses. They are not as fast and smart as their ancestors who let elves ride them, but they are stronger and bigger than the ones humans use. Nim, wake up!”

“Oh, hi Grandpa.” The young man yawns.

“I am our great-grandpa, lazy ass. Give Sylenn Lunar.”

“Are you kidding? Lunar is our best horse! It costs as much as your tavern!”

Kay slaps him on the head. 

“My tavern is priceless. Go get Lunar!”

Nim groans and a few minutes later returns with a gorgeous mare.

“Here, she is yours. She will take you to Evereska fast and safely.”

“Kay, I don’t have money to pay you!”

“Nonsense, Sylenn. You saved us. And besides, doomed we are or not, we are both born of Corellon’s blood. But you can repay me,” he adds when Sylenn saddles the horse and takes the reins. “I want you to tell everyone you meet on the road that ‘The Last Pixie’ is the best tavern you’ve ever been to!”

Sylenn laughs hearing the slur.

“No, no, I am serious, Sylenn, I need you to say the name out loud.”

“Alright! ‘The Last Pixie’ owned by Kay Dathnyar is the best tavern you can find!”

**

The same day, Luskan.

“Do you think they know you are a vampire?” Tiriel points at the guild members, feasting in the big hall. Astarion, as usual, stays inside the library doing the paperwork.

“I am sure they do, but should they want to make a big deal out of it, I will do the same out of their past. For example, our archer is a drow who masks himself as a wood elf. And the genasi-monk is not a monk and is wanted in Neverwinter for cannibalism.”

Tiriel sits beside him and puts her head on his shoulder.

“I love you.”

Astarion chuckles and kisses her cheek, tugging Tiriel closer. “My sweet, I love you, too.”

**

The same day, Waterdeep.

Alethaine Ancunín puts out the campfire, packs her things, and climbs the hill to see the City of Splendors better.

It looks much bigger and more beautiful than in the pictures.

The young necromancer adjusts the circlet on her head – it was given to her by an elderly elf, Sylenn, a month ago. A reward for saving her from the shadows in the dungeons. She said she’d made it for her deceased son and Alethaine sometimes feels a bit weird wearing it.

But then she sees her own reflection and reminds herself the circlet looks like it was made for her. It suits her silver hair and pitch-black eyes.

Maybe, the dead son of Sylenn looked similar to Alethaine.

“Well, Waterdeep it is,” Alethaine licks her dhampir fangs. “I have a very good feeling about this!”

--

I won't elaborate on the fact Birgga might be Theris' father. Also, the wood elf Sylenn returned the sword to is Elren Goldenroot's, Alethaine's husband-to-be, grandfather.

--

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[pyr0x10n]

vaquero kyle 😍 (the reader forced him to dress like that, bro was not having it)

The main 4 are at a qunice (do wtv you want with this bit)

After awhile reader gets horny and stupid and takes Kyle to the bathroom to do 'stuff' :3

bc he looks SOSO good in his outfit

I have a really bad thing for shit like this idk why

Nah because he’s be so done when you ask him to dress like that 💀

————

Mi Vaquero<3

————

Genre: Fluff + Smut

Synopsis: Vaquero Kyle‼️‼️ y horny reader obvi 😝

Kyle Broflovski x f!reader

————

“I cant believe i actually did this..” Kyle sighed, frustrated. “It’s fun! And plus, you get to see part of my culture!” You laughed. “Why did they have to tag along, AND WHY IS KENNY IN A DRESS!?” He pointed at Kenny, who was checking himself out in a dress. “ “Él solo es parte de las damas!” “Huh?” “Nothing.” You smiled innocently. “Damn I look hot.” Kenny grinned.

“Anyways, who’s this quinceañera for anyways?” Kyle asked, as the cumbia started playing. “Oh, just my cousin.” You said, looking for your phone in your purse.

“Oh, okay. Well, what’s going to happen?” Kyle asked. “You’ll see, just, follow my lead. The boys can find their way around.” You giggled, and Kyle started to get a little nervous.

“What if I ruin it all!? What if I accidentally spill something? What if I ruin the- I don’t know!” He was starting to panic, and you brought your lips to his. “You’ll be fine, hun. I promise.” You smiled at him.

“BUT IM JEWISH-!” “KYLE JUST TRUST ME.” “HOW!???” “JUST THIS ONCE BABY!?” “Fine.” “Yay.” “….” “…”

“Prima!” You heard a voice yell. “Ah, there’s the girl.” You smiled at the girl who was now fifteen. Kyle just watched behind as you two talked about things.

“Oh, my mom’s calling me.” She said, and then waved, walking away.

“That’s your cousin?” Kyle asked. “Yep, the one and only.” You sighed.

“Well, c’mon, we gotta go out! The boys already went out, so we should too!” You said and grabbed Kyle’s hand, running out of the dressing room and out into the area.

“Oh shit- (Y/n) calm down!!” He said, slightly panicked. “Shh, c’mon, dance with me, vaquero!” You said, now having both of his hands in yours. He was now calming down, as you two danced to the cumbia romántica.

(Murder me, but I have no idea what else to write, sooo…)

You guys have been here for only a few hours,

Yet you were so unbelievably horny.

Just because of Kyle rocking that outfit. He had you blushing without even knowing.

“Hey Kyle..” you mumbled, tugging on his belt.

“Hm? Yeah, baby? What’s up?”

“Can you bring me to the room really quick.. it’s really hot..” you asked.

“Uh, sure?” He knew what was going on, he’s just teasing.

You grabbed his hand and let him to the gust bedroom, when the door closed, he locked it and you immediately laid your head on his chest, sighing.

“Kyle I need you..”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm..”

Kyle laughed at your neediness, as you started taking his belt off. He pulled you into a kiss, and you felt yourself getting wetter and more pathetic by the second.

You need him.

You pulled away and took his pants down, slowly due to the lightheaded feeling you had. He connected his lips to your neck, kissing the exposed area. You lowly moaned but he covered your mouth.

“You don’t want your family hearing your sounds, right angel?” He asked as you got on top of him and shook your head. “No..” “then shut your pretty mouth, would you baby?” He commanded, and you nodded. You just needed him in you.

You put your panties to the side and aligned yourself with him, and slowly brought yourself down to his dick. He pulled you in a kiss to muffle out your moans.

It took some time, but you finally got used to his size and started riding him.

Man we’re you in for a looooong ride ;)

————

Necesito ayuda 😨

[moremaybank]

hello, love! how are you?

i had an idea and i just really needed to tell someone about it but none of my friends would get it so i hope you don't mind you're the one i came to

what would you think about rebekah and katherine fighting for a girl's attention?

rebekah and katherine fighting for your attention...

a/n: babes!! i don't mind at all that you came to me. i adore this idea! i don't know if you wanted this to become a headcanon but i kinda got carried away lol. 🫶🏻

rebekah masterlist | katherine masterlist

okay, we all know that bex and katherine don't get along

never have, and i'm ninety-nine point nine percent sure they never will

though rebekah fights with her brothers, she still doesn't appreciate the way katherine got in between elijah and klaus and caused problems to arise in their relationship

katherine, on the other hand, doesn't exactly appreciate how klaus wanted to sacrifice her

so, they stand where they've always stood when it comes to the other

and it's no different when they set their sights on you

alright, let's get into it

katherine approaches you, asking if you wanna hang out with her

she promises you a night of drinking, dancing, causing chaos, and mostly having fun

but just as you're about to respond, guess who pops up?

"sorry, love. y/n and i already have plans. we're going clubbing, and you're not invited," rebekah says, slinging her arm around your shoulders

katherine's impulse is to roll her eyes, but she wants to make a good impression on you

so she goes "well i'm sure y/n wouldn't mind if i tagged along?"

and of course, you being the sweet person you are, you agree (much to bekah's dismay)

then, one day, rebekah hears that you'd had a rough go of it at work, so she picks up a bouquet of flowers on her way over to your house

a little pick me up

sweet, right?

wrong

because when she gets there and you open the door, her eyes land on the hundreds of carnations — which are your favourites, might i add — and she notices katherine standing behind you with her signature smirk plastered on her lips

it takes everything in bex to not rip katherine's heart out right at that moment

but then she sees the glimmer in your eyes as you still take the bouquet from her hands, and you plant a kiss on her cheek in thanks

so can she really be mad?

there's always some fun (or not so fun) banter going on between them every time you all hang out

"you know, she's not very original. i can name at least two other people who are carbon copies of her. on the outside, anyway."

"hm, well at least i don't have a psychopathic brother stabbing me and shoving me in a box for centuries every single time i annoy him."

and you're just there like :/ because you just want them to get along

there have been a few (many) cat fights

they're both always offering to do everything for you

need a ride home from work?

rebekah's ordered a car service for you

having a stressful day and needing to blow off some steam?

katherine's dragging you to a party

in need of a dress for a fancy occasion?

they've both got racks after racks from every high-end boutique they could find, and have compelled strangers off the street to try the outfits on for you

anything to make your life easier

they're both extremely protective over you, especially when it comes to you

bex: "come with me, love. anyone involved with katerina finds themselves dead as soon as she's done with them."

kath: "oh, please. you have a thousand years worth of enemies trying to take you and your siblings down. i'm only at a mere near-five hundred."

if there's one thing i can say, it's that there truly is never a dull moment

~

rebekah & katherine tag list (join here!): @princess-charming-01 @kittyqrt @techlipse @the-kaya-aa @skydisneylover @iluvniklaus @diyabhanushali1 @your_best_hoe

[italicized-oh]

hello hello and welcome back from academia hell!! tis lovely to see you, and I hope you're having the most wonderful of days/weeks <3 for prompts purposes, if you're interested: jace and porter attempting to do research on gods/ascension/divine rituals for the sake of The Plan? (how well this actually ends up going is of course a matter of debate)

you’ve activated my secret codes dear. Get ready for Research and Rituals, baby. They’re looking into the orphic cosmogony bc i have Issues. um. nsft and also light gore? but v v tame compared to our usual fare in this tag lmao

Jace feels Porter come up behind him and slumps backward against the wall of warmth. He knows the moan he lets out when Porter digs his thumbs into Jace’s shoulders is pornographic, and he doesn’t even care. He drops his head back against Porter’s stomach to look up at him.

“Did you know that Protogonos hatched from an egg, according to some Orphic hymns?” Porter hums, listening. “And then created all the other gods in that pantheon? Oh, yes, perfect, right there– and that some people believed there was a son of Persephone, who was raped by Zeus disguised as Hades, called Zagreus, who was torn limb from limb because Zeus– fuck, your hands, Porter– because Zeus was tricked, but Zagreus’ heart is saved and then implanted in Zeus’ thigh, and Dionysos is born from that? Fuck–” Jace cuts off with a high-pitched moan.

Porter keeps massaging, hums again, and leans down to kiss Jace on the forehead before whispering in his ear. “Sweetheart, if you’re asking to ride my thigh, you know the answer’s yes.”

Jace flails a hand backward to slap ineffectively at Porter. “No, you animal, I’m just saying, there’s about a million different ways people think people become gods, all of which are impractical. I’m getting nowhere– oh, fuck me–”

Porter bites the shell of Jace’s left ear. “Again, the answer is yes, starshine, but you can beg if you wanna.” 

Jace is torn between pulling away to make his point and collapsing further back into Porter, who’s now biting at Jace’s neck. “Stop– stop that, I’m working, or do you not– ohh, gods– do you not want to know how to actually become a god?”

Porter bites harder, worrying at the skin under Jace’s jaw. “Hmm, don’t tempt me, sweetheart. Can’t have you working without inspiration, after all. Seems to me anyways that the point is more that the story sounds good than that it makes sense.” Jace goes rigid under him, shooting straight up into Porter’s chin. “Ow, fucking hell, Stardiamond, can’t a man leave a hickey in peace around here?”

Jace slaps Porter’s shoulder. “Oh, hush, you ginormous baby. For once in your thick-headed life, I think you might be onto something.”

Porter wiggles his eyebrows. “Oh, I’ll be onto something, all right. One more smart remark and you’ll find out just how onto something I can be.”

Jace snorts despite himself, failing to disguise a laugh. “Fine, fine, keep gnawing on me, what do I care. I’ve got a hymn to write, I guess. Fuck, I hate wizards. Why do they always have to reinvent the wheel? Blood sacrifices and orgies would’ve been so much fucking simpler– oh, gods, Porter, fuck me, holy fuck–”

“Sounds like you’re a natural at the hymn thing, sweetheart. Let’s see how much more work we can get done, hm?”