#ohh clever of them

[yootaesowl]

[chisungie]

.

[astralnymphh]

ellie teasing reader because she knows how much her body hair turns her on??? PLEASE like imagine her wearing literally anything that accentuates and puts it on display so prettily; tank tops for her armpits, crop tops and low hung jeans or sweats for her happy trail and bush peeking out of her boxers ahhhh gonna die

or her being cheeky and soooo fucking cocky, mocking her whenever they’re fucking and she stares too much at it, takes too much time to lick at those auburn hairs while eating her out. and reader being so pussy drunk and so in love and so so desperate to touch and kiss and lick and suck everywhere oh my fuck

thisss because i know ellie feels so clever and crafty doing it, intentionally popping that waistband down when you re-enter the room for the night and thrusting her crotch out just a tad. held in place by the juts of her hips, everything else appears ordinary and unchanged, but in quiet conference to herself, ellie clads a cocky smile—puppeteered by some sort of cheeky inner-feeling or her predictions on how you'll react. she knows what she is gilding will land her somewhere between your lips and her hips, but playing innocence sends those shivers up her spine. excitement. suspense.

“what's this, els?” when you do take note with a finger tracing sultrily up her happy trail, all that anticipation matures into arousal, and arousal is the one not-so-innocent thing dripping through that bush of hers. that band tight around her pelvis felt dirty. exposing that part of her body felt dirty.

“hair?” ellie tries the clueless act anyways, squinting confusedly as if though you are the true portrayer of indecency. “am i supposed to hide this? weirdo.” but, that soon washes away, as intentions become crystal clear with the push forward of her groin, flaunting that stripe of auburn.

it gets her here; legs cradling your upper-body as if mounted, hand at your head, pussy on your mouth. taking everything inside so silkily, wrapped around your tongue perfectly. her boxers are long discarded—in a needy pull, if she accounts correctly—and rather soiled anyway. made uncomfortable by the stick of her slick. but your tongue takes care of that now, drawing calculated strokes through her folds and cherishing that salty taste of her with an easy smile. well—given the full picture, of course you'd be vulnerable in delights stuffing your face in that tufted bit of her, even pocketing time into licking them 'till they shone more than before. either you're concentrated and tracing her entrance by heart's desire, or you're instinctual, sloppy, and letting the pressure of her palm guide you where she thinks your tongue feels best.

“fuckin' love my pussy, huh? just couldn't stop lookin' at it?” a rasp pushes through her whispering, talking to you though you're too occupied to answer. her groin bears down on you, and the warmth of her palm relocates to your cheek, tapping there. “show me your tongue, cmon.” you obey, and flatten your tongue against the rise of her crotch, watching her instinctively take charge and wipe her clit across the moment you do. “ohh.. fuck, yeah. up a little more—yeah, yeah, ssshhit, that's the fuckinn' spot—fuuuck babe.” your tonguework made her a low-groan, moaning mess above you, in turn stirring you to reciprocate the noises of joy, just into her cunt. vibrating her clit, adding a finger or two inside her out of urge, giggling in love when her pussy clenches them in and her thighs clasp you in tight. fuck, does her knitted expression look heavenly over that hair you adore?

img @/tlouphotographer v instagram.

[peppermintquartz]

Praiseworthy

--

"Tell me about how it's been for you these past couple days."

With a soft moan, Buck releases Tommy's neck from his mouth's exploration and peers at him, confused. "I already did."

Tommy weaves his fingers into Buck's curls and scratches lightly on his scalp. Buck's eyes flutter shut at how good that feels.

"Tell me how you saved the days," Tommy amends. "Without mentioning that old git. Tell me. Start with how you saved the little girl and her mom from the bee-covered car."

Buck is trying to remember how to form words, his skin tingling from Tommy's gentle caress of his scalp and the not-so-gentle petting of his belly. That same hand is drifting down to his hip.

"Um. We were using CO2, didn't work," Buck murmurs. Losing himself to Tommy's touches, Buck lets the words unfurl freely, his legs tangling with Tommy's. "And the intake was jammed. Couldn't - ah! - couldn't hose the bees away."

Tommy hums, his left hand rubbing soothing circles into Buck's hip, while his right is still giving Buck the best scalp massage in a long while. "So what did you do?"

"Something had caught fire, and. And I remembered that. Smoke. Beekeepers use smoke to dampen bees' senses, make them - ohh, please, Tommy, that feels - make them docile." Buck feels a little lightheaded. That is a common symptom of making out with Tommy, but today every move Tommy makes seems purposeful. Buck moans softly when Tommy's fingers dip under his waistband, even as Tommy encourages him to keep talking. He swallows, licks his lips. "Told Eddie. Told Eddie to direct the smoke. At the car. I, uh, ahhh. Tommy. Tommy."

Tommy's hand is inside Buck's shorts. "Yeah? Come on, keep talking," he says innocently, as if his index finger hasn't just been nudging at Buck's hole moments ago.

Gulping in another breath, Buck continues. "The smoke worked. The bees... calmed down. Got them off one side of the car, got the mom and girl out." He gasps when his boyfriend slides his big hand from its place on Buck's ass to the front to gently grasp his hard, leaking cock.

"You're so well-read," Tommy murmurs approvingly. "Keeping all that knowledge in your gorgeous and adorable head. I love how much you know about the world."

"Yeah? Really?" Buck feels like he can melt into Tommy's voice.

"Mm hmm. Now tell me about the perfume launch."

Rolling his hips slowly as Tommy starts stroking him, Buck murmurs, "The perfume... Oh, oh, please Tommy, more, please?" When Tommy doesn't tighten his grip the way Buck wants him to, he whines, "Please, Daddy?"

Tommy huffs a laugh. He knows what Buck is trying to do, and two can play at that game. "Tell me what you did, baby boy, and Daddy will give you what you want," he says. Promises, with a wink.

Buck pouts, but the effect is lost when Tommy twists his wrist a specific way, which instead makes Buck shudder.

"Perfume launch lady. Um. Told us that, that her assistant is stuck under water, breathing through a hose." The words tumble out. Buck hisses in a sharp breath when Tommy runs the pad of his thumb over his slit, and whimpers again when Tommy does it a second time.

"And what did you do to get her out of it?"

"I overheard. Someone, um, someone. Talking about. Perfume, and-and asked to, to see it." Buck closes his eyes, floats in the sensations of Tommy's voice rumbling in his chest and his warm grip of Buck's erection and strong fingers still massaging his scalp. "The scent was floral... But it had, um. Banana."

"And what was so special about banana, sweet boy? Can you tell Daddy more, please?"

Buck whines high in his throat. "Floral scents attract pollinators like bees," he manages, "and banana riles them up, makes them - mmm - defensive."

"You're so brilliant," Tommy praises. "I didn't know that. I'm so lucky to have a clever and beautiful boy." He pauses his ministrations to kiss Buck deeply, drinking in a faint whine. Then his hand resumes moving. "But it doesn't answer my question, darling. How did you get the bees away from that poor assistant?"

Now Buck has to giggle. "Made Eddie bait." He nuzzles Tommy and says, "He was already suited up, and, mmm, he looked so cute with that dumb moustache. Chimney and I doused him with the perfume. Made him run really fast. Mmmm. Daddy, don't stop."

Tommy is laughing, his whole frame shaking, and his hands are on Buck's hip and shoulder now. "You made Eddie killer bee bait?"

"Yep." Buck preens and nudges Tommy's cheek with his nose. "It worked very well too. We got the woman out. Any longer and she'd have died."

"You're really amazing," Tommy says, turning his face into Buck's arched neck, kissing tiny nipping kisses all along that exposed column. Nothing that will leave marks. "You're really something else, sweet boy, you make me so proud of you every time you show just how capable and resourceful you are. I wanna show you off to the world so so much."

"Really?" Buck asks breathlessly, his chest tight from emotion. Before this moment, he didn't think he needed to hear all that validation, but the praise flowing so freely and sincerely from Tommy is making his skin tingle and his heart pound, even more than the purposeful petting and groping. His throat feels like it's closing with tears, and he buries his face in the closest part of Tommy - his big, strong shoulder - and his eyes are stinging.

With another gulp of air, he gives himself over to pure sensation, letting Tommy's words wash over him and fill him up, letting Tommy's hands draw pleasure from his core out into the open air, letting Tommy's love soothe the thousand little hurts he's been enduring at work. It's not that long before his teeth are pressed to Tommy's shoulder, tongue flat against his skin, as his hips jerk helplessly against his lover and he comes and comes, wrapped in a hazy cocoon of praise and adoration woven from Tommy's voice and sure handling.

Afterwards, when his mind is more his own, he murmurs, "You must think I'm so needy. It must be exhausting to deal with me. With my... I don't know, my neuroses."

"Where did you get that idea from?" Tommy asks, draped partly over the younger man, nose pressed to Buck's soft cheek.

"I don't know why I can't just do my job and not, you know, want an Attaboy now and again. Like, Chimney and Eddie just get on with it. Hen doesn't even seem to be mentally present some days, and she is still incredible at her job." Buck sighs. "Sometimes I feel like I never did leave behind Buck 1.0."

"You're you, whatever version you think you are," Tommy replies. "And the Evan Buckley I know is a quick-thinking, spontaneous, resourceful, and kind man. You're not needy for wanting validation, especially since you have put in work to know that much. It's nice to be seen." With a grunt, Tommy leans over Buck and peers down into the younger man's eyes. "And you're not exhausting to love, Evan. You're so easy to love. So deserving of it. I'll praise you every damn day until you see that for yourself."

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

hi dear just wondering if you're taking request? If not then feel free to ignore me but I was wondering what or how would the yandere twisted wonderland boys react to a willing reader who actually finds there yandere tendencies hot and endearing and actually does not mind being locked up or the reader is just generally obsessed as they are with them hahaha sorry if it's to hard but if you find it uncomfortable then feel free to ignore me dear

Yandere-Obsessed | Yandere Twisted Wonderland x Reader

Malleus Draconia

“I will never let you leave my sights again!”

“Why would I ever?” 

After nearly obliterating those he feels as though are a threat to your health

He snaps 

With glowing green eyes, he refuses to let you go despite any protests you may have

But you have none 

Immediately jumping into the near-dragon amalgamation’s arms as you lovingly rub your cheek against him

“I’m so happy, you feel the same!” 

“Wait…does…this mean you purposefully orchestrated the incident?”

“Hehehe maybe?”

“...You love me as well?”

“Ohh Malleus I adore you!”

He’s near melting 

You guys are the couple that sits in public places with hardly any space between you as your constantly looking into each other's eyes

Its a fight should anyone intervene

On both ends

Sebek’s reeling but he gains a whole lot of respect when you easily threaten his life

Malleus and you are in your own world

Most people don’t get killed only because you two are so focused on one another no one really penetrates your bubble

“My child of man it felt as if my heart was torn in two! I can breathe now that your in my arms again!”

“Oh Mal-Mal!”

Jack Howl

“W-wait (Y/n) i-its not what you think!”

“Really? It looks like that guy was suffocated to death and your burying him.”

“(Y/n)-”

“You can’t bury him yet until we remove any and all traces of you! See!? Your nail marks are a dead-giveaway!”

“Uh–”

“Here we should just burn this part that way no one will know!”

“T-thanks?”

“Of course, baby.”

He’s always felt guilty for the stuff he was doing in your name

But to see you his beloved, his mate assure him

Brings him an air of confidence

Now he knows that you acknowledge him and will even defend him

Like a true mate!

He’s so pleased he doesn’t have to fight you to accept him

Rather he’s fighting you from doing the same

It just makes him so embarrassed you care for him

“Love you don’t need to do away with the other contestants!”

“But look at your blush! You won’t mind it all that much you can step down from your high horse for me? Right?”

“...Fine b-but you promise to spend the rest of the night kissing me, right!?”

Idia Shroud

“Y-you knew I was watching? T-the whole time?!” 

“Yup! I’m surprised you hardly noticed the ones I had on you!”

“W-what!?”

Any semblance of the love-obsessed mad scientist is diminished by your overwhelming display of love

He’s too busy reeling from that obsessed look you give him

He’s so easy to dominate from then on

Avidly obeying all your promises to terminate anyone who talks to him 

All with a love-obsessed blush on his face

But even with your reciprocated love, he’ll eventually want for more

Whether he convinces himself you're faking it or that you are trying to outshine his love

He’s turning the tables on you 

Coming up with something that will really blow your socks off

Something to show you he is the ultimate yandere in this relationship

“Darling, how clever you summoned the robots of S.T.Y.X to eliminate all your rivals. But believe me, I will do the same.”

“Hehe you misunderstand, muffin! They’re aren’t only here to eliminate my rivals but there also going to escort you to my love dungeon!”

“Love dungeon?”

“Yeah, how’s that for yandere!? I love you more than anyone even you can’t compete with me!”

Jamil Viper

“So if my suspicions are right you’ve been using snake whisper so that they’ll all stay away from me, right?”

“...”

“Don’t look so tense I wanted to thank you! And I wanted to ask if you noticed my own attempts to be noticed by you?”

“W-what?!”

He’s usually on top of it when it comes to knowing about you and hiding his feelings at the same time

But he completely skimmed over your various attempts to reciprocate his violent-obsessive tendencies

He’s reluctant to believe you 

But when he does he’s falling even more in love

He plans to occupy all your time

And doesn’t mind when you start sleeping at Scarabia just to be closer to him 

He loves it so much

He acts so much goofier because he’s falling in love all over again

“You better not be lying to me about this…”

“Trance me if you really want to know!”

“Maybe I will.”

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 161 spoilers with thoughts below the cut u know the drill

.

.

.

.

.

.

THIS IS MY FAVORITE PANEL OF JAVIER EVER. IN THE ENTIRE MANHWA IM LOSING MY MIND HAHAHAHAHAHA

HE JUST LOOKS SO FUCKING UNHINGED I DIDNT EXPECT IT AT ALL HHAHAHAHAHAAAA

anywayy back to the top

honestly maybe i shouldve seen the fact that his own singing would fuck him up coming LMAO

their matching dazed expressions when they both realize PLEASSEE LOL

raphael also calls the start of his singing demonic sounding lmao

and then they start fighting again and JESUS holy shit they're so overpowered this is so cool to watch and also as i was reading i was VERY scared for javier

genuinely i really really love whenever they draw action scenes they look very cool while also not being terribly hard to follow i like that

like oh my god?? he's swinging that hammer around like its nothing its very very terrifying, esp cause its been a while since javier has fought something thats his match yknow, or at least it feels that way

AND THEN. THE LEADUP INTO THE NEXT SCENE IM LOSING MY MIND JAVIER YOU SCHEMER

the feigning being down and then the peek and the slow getting up im giggling so so bad AND THEN

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA JAVIER YOU CLEVER ASSHOLE I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH

like i knew that line raphael said about how the halo would continue protecting him so long as he's pure and just or whatever would come into play BUT I DIDNT THINK JAVIER WOULD BE THE ONE TO DO IT SO DIRECTLY TOO HAHAHAHAAA he's learned so much from lloyd <3 LOL

i also think its interesting that the halo keeps track of this with like points or smth, not much to say about it i just think its an interesting gear; the ultimate defensive tech but it's based on how "good" you are thats just really interesting to me hehe

ALSO ALSO i think it's really really silly funny that raphael was this very intimidating and menacing figure that was super scary right up until the moment javier played dirty and then the moment that happened that image/vibe immediately crumbled WAHHAHA he's just a silly guy and the halo does the work i like him a lot

i really like these panels of them being evenly matched, raphael is still holding his own even with a penalty like that, their expressions here are really good too its so tense,,,

AND THEN LLOYD BEGGING THEM TO STOPP AAHHH

AGHHGHGHHGHGH AAAHH JAVIER STARING WIDE-EYED AT LLOYD IM CURLING AND SHRIVELED ON THE FLOOR

like okay i know lloyd is scheming or whatever. but my heart wants to believe that some part of this was very real okay . let me cope let me believe this . one cannot act/lie effectively without some of it being real. RIGHT???

AND THEN WHEN THE POPUPS APPEARED I STARTED SHOUTING OH MY GOD I FORGOT ABT THE RP SYSTEM IM SO. LLOYD YOU BRILLIANT MOTHERFUCKER YOUUU

HE CAN JUST SKIP THE PROCESS AND THEN BECOME A SWORDMASTER HE HASNT DONE THAT IN A LONG TIME OHHHH MY GOD

also. everyone else's bonus RP was +10. but only javier's bonus RP was +45. which could mean nothing.

WHAT DO I EVEN SAY ABOUT THAT LIKE. JAVIER WHAT YOU. WHAT. YOUUU im gonna lose it im gonna LOSE IT

top ten photos taken moments before disaster HE LOOKS SO EVIL THE ART HERE IS SO GOOD HAHAHAHA OHH MY GOD

and how he says "YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS" ohhh lloyd you asshole you i love you so much

THIS PANEL TOO LIKE WOW THE FUCKING EFFECTS THIS IS INSANE HE LOOKS SO FUCKING MENACING THE VIOLENT LINEART HES POWERING UP HIS SINGING OH MY GODDD HAHAHA

when i saw these panels i immediately thought of that one song from princess and the frog god i wish i could like tween or something itd be so cool to see This drawn to That

thats all i LOVED this ep i had so much fun RAPHAEL JAVIER LLOYD FIGHT PART THREE NEXT WEEK HERE WE GO

[crowlixcx]

The flirting in the Job ep is world class it's SHAMELESS I mean 'ohh aren't you brilliant' ??? 'actually I think getting us all in the cellar was very clever' ??? Give me a BREAK it's so blatant and delicious they're like two people who have spotted each other across the bar and keep turning around to giggle to their friends ((jobs kids in this case)) who are teasing them relentlessly to get it over with and go say hi!! Aziraphale says at the start that they've not seen each other since the flood, clearly insinuating that it's been a while, and you bet your ass that angel has been thinking about the gorgeous long haired demon every day since

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

DAY XV. — MENOPHILIA

cw: Menophilia, Blood, Teasing, Blood Eating, Cunnilingus, Quirk Usage, Temporary Paralysis, Fem! Reader. 18+ Only!

author's note: This is for a good friend! I don't really write for Stain, so this will be one of the few times I do it! Enjoy!

word count: Approximately 1k. words.

“Ohh, just a little bit more to the side.” 

“No no, the other side.”

“Hmm, maybe you should have stayed where you were. Go back.”

“You’re a little too slow. Can you speed up?” 

“Hey, why are you stopping?” 

Chizome’s deadpan meets your eyes, any emotion or lust once curtaining his features are now smoke on the horizon. Mirth twinkles behind your smile. You casually ask,

“What’s with that look? It’s like you’re not enjoying yourself anymore.” 

A grumble rumbles deep within Chizome’s throat, head bobbing slightly from side to side while he scoffs. 

“Perhaps I didn’t enjoy the constant critique while trying to pleasure you.” 

He sounds frustrated, but the strum to his voice makes your toes curl and your fingers claw into the bed. There are faint traces of powdered blood smeared across his lips, chin, and the corners of his mouth. Spit and slobber are dribbling down his bottom lip, but he quickly swipes it up with his tongue and swallows. Chizome’s crimson eyes sparkle momentarily before they dull, closed in an instant. That makes you shift, and you coo.

“Aw, Chi’, I was only teasing you. It’s not every day I get to see you with my blood on your face, I couldn’t help myself~” 

Chizome’s eyes are wide and sliced back towards your frame whenever the lilt of your voice crescendos, punctuated by an obviously faux giggle. He squints, but then he snorts. 

“Well then, let me return the favor.” 

Before you even have the opportunity to open your mouth to ask for clarification—ice and iron seize your body, cold and stiff, and you suddenly can’t move. You attempt to blink, but you can’t even find the function within you. A hint of disappointment tinges your thoughts because, dammit, Chizome activated his Quirk on you again. Though, admittedly, maybe it’s only fair for how often you like to play and toy with him during intimate moments like these. He’s usually more receptive, but you’re guessing there’s some sort of affinity for blood that has him leaning on the side of genuine intimacy. Perhaps you start to feel the smallest slimmers of guilt, but Chizome’s suddenly smirking at you and wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Now I can do as I please.” 

Ohhh, ohh—Chizome, he, ohhh—he—!!

Chizome’s face is down between your thighs again, mouth to your cunt, splitting the seam of your lips. He laps his tongue against you, like a dog cleaning their paw, burying himself in as deeply as humanly possible. There are hums and gasps tucked away in the back of your mouth, attempting to force their way out of your hefty lungs, but your mouth remains closed and all you can do is relax back against the pillows and blankets. Electricity is curdling through your veins, sharp and biting baths that drown you, and you can barely think the longer Chizome hilts that long, long, long tongue through the velvet walls of your cunt. 

His tongue loops, spinning small circles inside. That dastardly appendage hits all of the right buttons, clicking and switching the heat and passion budding underneath the swell of your belly. You’re dizzy before you can comprehend it, and your breathing starts to lull. Chizome has always been so deft and clever, a filet knife that knows all of the right twists and turns to spread open flesh and meat. The blood seeps from your weeping cunt, trickling down the slit. Glaze and stickiness is painted all over your middle, and Chizome starts moaning into your cunt. 

You start to feel the effects of his Quirk wane the more focused he becomes to unravel your threads, so you flex your fingers and wrists before stretching them forward to gently clasp through those luscious midnight locks tickling your thighs. Chizome moans louder now, and that delicious sound sends a jolt up your spine that makes a gasp really escape. The lower end of your body slants into him, forming a weak ramp for Chizome to drag up and along. He reaches your desperate clit, a victim of neglect, and unites blood escaped to blood captive against the underside of your fatty hood. He sends his tongue spiraling into madness right where you need it, seemingly taking heed of your past instructions, and with the shackles of his Quirk cut clean off, you squirm and dance and mewl and plea like a bagged kitten begging for its freedom. 

Claws scrabbling, little teeth gnawing, tail end thrashing, red liquor smearing and leaving you intoxicated as it trickles from the spigot of your cunt, stills of Chizome’s sharp chin and sharper tongue drenched in your life’s essence, you feel yourself begin to boil and bubble and brew until, until it, until—

“Ch-Chizome! Chizome, I’m—ah, ahh, I’m—” 

Everything in you squeezed with delight. Everything, especially your swollen, juicy walls. Distantly, you could pick out something gooey expel from your aching hole, your orgasm having birthed a particularly large clot of ichor from your womb. Trying to warn of an unsightly splotch on your disheveled sheets, you fought against the speeding breaths and deadening whimpers rattling your lungs, begging, grasping. But it didn’t matter, not really, not with Chizome. His insatiable need for blood primed him to never let one single drop go to waste, Chizome’s head collapsed down to your hole, interrupting the nutritious blot and obscenely slurping it into his hungry mouth in a way that sent your head reeling. And he slowly whittled you down, little by little, spooling you back into the land of the living while he cleaned and licked your cunt. 

Your eyes were completely wasted, drunken blotches, struggling to even perceive anything—but Chizome’s mouth popped off with a nice squelching suction, those red eyes piercing you whenever he resurfaced. A small smile danced across your face whenever you saw your blood marking him, owning him, pouring down his crimson chin. Chizome looks stupidly obnoxious whenever he grins and begins licking himself clean. 

“Didn’t think you were going to feed me, sweetheart.” 

Instant embarrassment slaps you across the face. You jerk up, clenched together by your shoulders, and withdraw your hands from his bangs. 

“Chizome, what a great way to ruin such a beautiful moment.” 

He chuckles, letting his head rest against a thigh before he nuzzles his cheek into it.

“I feel like that just made it better. ‘Sides,” 

His eyes are flames whenever they meet yours, 

“I think I’m still hungry.” 

[hermitscratch]

TANGDUBS + 2!! PRETTY PLEASE

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

2. An accidental kiss, Tango/Bdubs, 866 words

"Sooo," Tango drawled awkwardly, scuffing his boot against the packed dirt, "We're in agreement that you're totally bonkers, right?"

Bdubs looked up from where he was wrapping his knuckles, the methodic twist of bandages familiar to the point of being soothing, "There's nothin' bonkers about it! We're just- we're settling some differences, that's all, we're getting even," He replied, squinting at the ground below where Tango stood, "Hey, hey, stop kicking up the ring! Do you know how long it took me to build us this arena?"

Tango eyed their "arena". It wasn't much, a circle of cleared space that must have measured half a chunk across its widest point, flattened and padded with a layer of sand and gravel. The perimeter was trimmed in snow blocks- a clever callback to what landed them there that made Tango's tail lash in brief distaste- and beyond the circle, artfully arranged stairs and scaffolding served as seating for their nonexistent audience. It was simple, but it was enough to give this... whatever this was supposed to be... an official feel. "I dunno," Tango offered flippantly, "Like, twenty minutes?"

"Twenty min- ohh," Bdubs fumed, and Tango grinned as Bdubs continued, largely to himself, "Ohhh, I'll get you just for that one. Twenty minutes, hah, the pair on this guy..."

Tango snickered, raising his hands placatingly in front of him, "Hey, I'm just saying! Only one as masterful as you could pull off a build this nice that fast, you know?"

"Uh huh, that's what I thought you meant," The retort was sharp, but Bdubs' lips quirked with amusement, "You ready yet?"

"Erm. Not gonna lie, I'm still not sure what you're trying to accomplish here," Tango admitted. Idly, he tamps down the patch of dirt he'd dug up, smoothing the sand and gravel back over the dent, "Last Life is over. What happened, happened," Tango fought to keep the bitter taste out of his mouth, "What's this gonna do?"

"Plenty!" Was Bdubs' immediate answer, lifting his nose like he was proud of whatever logic he was employing to justify challenging Tango. Not even to full-on PVP, either, to a sparring match.

"Oh yeah," Tango said emphatically, "We come out here, sample some punch sauce with our faces, and suddenly it's like you didn't brutally murder me after I brought you back from red badness!"

"You're flaring, sweetheart," Bdubs pointed out, and Tango grumbled as he ran a hand through his hair, reducing the sparks to embers. Maybe it wasn't the best idea for Bdubs to construct the bleachers out of wood. "But that's just it, though! It's closure!" "Closure," Tango repeated skeptically.

"Closure," Bdubs affirmed, "This way if I win, I'll have earned the life I took! And if you win, you get the satisfaction of revenge! I know you're mad, but this has gotta help us get back on good terms, right?"

Bdubs' wide eyes were earnest, pleading, and Tango has never been good at denying him his whims. Especially not when there's such a blatant I miss you, I miss us between the lines.

Tango pursed his lips, looked around their little arena, and sighed. "Fine, let's do this."

The rules were set. They took opposite ends of the circle. And then, they were at each other's throats, Tango's agility matched at every turn by Bdubs' stamina, Tango's resourcefulness met head-on by Bdubs' resilience. For all they were out of practice in hand-to-hand, there was an elegance to it that came less from the execution of moves, more from the ebb and flow of knowing an opponent intimately, a dance that kept them on their toes for nearly an hour.

And Tango knew. He knew Bdubs, had known him for years. Worked with him, based with him, teamed with him. Cared about him, here and in the game, and Bdubs had backstabbed him.

The rush of feelings were ugly. Love and hate and protectiveness and betrayal and hurt, hurt, hurt, fueling every punch and kick and hiss, every connection making him feel a little bit lighter, until-

"Tango!"

Tango froze, looking down. Bdubs was on the ground, on his back, immobilized in every way that mattered by Tango's weight. That was the victory condition they'd agreed on; no deathmatch, only a chance to make the other vulnerable.

Bdubs lifted the only hand he had free, and Tango dully realized that there was something to wipe away when Bdubs started scrubbing gently at the corners of Tango's eyes. "You won," Bdubs said softly, smiling through a split lip.

There was still anger. There was pain, but there was elation, an overwhelming catharsis, a feeling too kind for the outlet it had come from, and when Tango leaned down to kiss Bdubs, there was relief.

It was brief. As soon as Tango realized he'd done it, he pulled away, clearing his throat bashfully, "I, uh- that's embarrassing. Sorr-"

"If you apologize instead of getting back down here right now, I'm punching you again," Bdubs said, hooking his hand around the back of Tango's neck, threading the short hairs around his fingers.

Tango has never been good at denying Bdubs his whims... especially not now, when he sounded so fond.

[flaggermuser]

The Crimson Tide

Homelander x Luna (Supe OC)

Prompt: "You're bleeding."/Making tea/coffee for a loved one

1,185 words || Periods, Severe Cramps, Movies, Bonding, Pre-established Frienship ||

This takes place in the year between S2 & 3. Luna is a moon-powered supe whose powers are tied to the lunar cycle. This is a pre-established friendship.

Special thanks to @devilander for being my beta

A New Moon

Luna’s powers are at their weakest.

And it doesn’t help that she’s always on her period at this point in the lunar cycle, and combined with her weakened powers, she’s in the worst pain imaginable. So she lies in bed, unable to do anything other than spend the entire day there. It’s the closest she ever gets to feeling human.

A hot water bottle lies on her abdomen, helping to ease the overwhelming cramps but not by much. It’s challenging for her to move in this situation, and she is considerably more irritable. She lets out a grunt, the pain in her abdomen slowly becoming worse. It’s as if someone is scraping the inside of her womb with a rusted knife, and her inability to heal herself only amplifies the feeling.

She doesn’t have to open her eyes when she hears the familiar footsteps sauntering in her direction. There's been a change in the atmosphere between them. Things have been more cordial on Luna’s part - they weren’t exactly friends but they weren’t exactly hostile either, it was a weird bond.

The bed shifts under his weight, his hands brushing stray strands of hair from her face. It’s a very soft interaction, one prompting her eyes to slowly open and look at him.

“I’m not in the mood for visitors but I get the feeling that if I tell you to go away, you won’t.”

Homelander chuckles, holding the mug of steaming hot tea in his hands, offering it to her. “You’re completely right. Anyway, I read somewhere that ginger tea helps with, well, you know, the crimson tide.”

“The crimson tide?” It takes a few minutes until it finally dawns on her. “Ohh, because I’m moon-powered, the moon controls the tides. Clever, did you come up with that one all by yourself?”

He chuckles, the smug grin she knows all too well spreading across his lips, “I did actually and I’m proud of myself for it.”

She considers something for a moment, wondering if she should ask the next question or if she’d like the answer. “You know that I’m on my period?”

“Yep,” he responds, almost cheerfully. “Could smell you from the hallway.”

She squints at him, “You know that’s incredibly creepy, right?”

He laughs, shaking his head slightly, “I have a sensitive nose, I can’t help what I pick up. Like I can also smell the Luna’s Moonflower Body Lotion and the Moonflower Face Cream with SPF 15 you’re wearing. A little narcissistic to wear something from your cosmetic collection, isn’t it?”

“Fuck you.”

There’s no malice behind it. She’s almost grateful he’s here, it takes her mind off the searing pain in her womb. She tries to sit up, letting out soft noises of discomfort and arranging her pillows to support herself.

“Thank you,” she takes the mug and sips the tea. The warmth blooms in her chest, the taste of ginger luckily offset by honey. As much as she hates ginger, she doesn’t have the heart to tell him.

After all, he’s gone to all this effort to help her.

“I guess you didn’t just come here to bring me tea.”

“No,” he admits, taking off his gloves and placing them on the bedside table. He takes her free hand in his, playing with her fingers. “I’m bored and can only guess that being confined to a bed all day because of that and weak powers means you’re bored too, so I thought you might want some company.”

“As nice as that sounds, I’m not exactly in the mood for sparkling conversation.”

“We don’t have to talk,” he answers. “We could always just watch a movie. I have several recommendations that I think you’d enjoy.”

What he’s suggesting does sound nice. However, the very idea of her getting out of bed and walking into the living room makes her wince. She’s not in the best condition to do anything.

“Only one small issue, I can’t exactly move and I don’t have a TV in here.”

He smirks, the kind he has when he’s up to something. He leaves her bedside for a few minutes, only to return with two Vought lackeys wheeling in a flat-screen TV on a stand. She gives him a knowing look, one he returns with pure smug satisfaction. He’s thought of everything.

“Oh, how convenient,” she says sarcastically. “You just so happened to have that stashed somewhere for this exact scenario.”

Once it’s set up, the lackeys nearly bolt out the door. There’s something sweet about the lengths he’s going to just to spend time with her. She moves over a little and places her mug on the other bedside table, ensuring he has enough room to join her on the bed.

There’s a slightly awkward pause between them that goes on for much longer than it should. She knows he’s probably waiting for her to ask him to sit beside her.

“Take your boots off, I’m not having them dirty my clean sheets.”

He tries to hide his excitement, kicking off his boots and settling beside her, remote control in hand. “Don’t worry, it’s already signed into your Vought account.”

That forces her to raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “Do I want to know how you managed to get my login details?”

“No,” he replies. “The same way I don’t want to know why you’re watching The Deep’s documentary.”

She laughs a little, he’s caught her red-handed. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure why she was watching it. It was The Deep, after all, a disgraced former member of the Seven. His hand slowly slides over hers, their fingers interlocking again.

“So, what do you want to watch? We’ve got the entire Vought+ catalogue at our disposal, I got you upgraded for free after I had a little chat with the right person.”

“Huh, and what tone did you use for this little chat?”

She’s been around him long enough to know how ‘persuasive’ he can be. He chuckles, obviously pleased with himself and this seemingly selfless act, continuing to flick through the channels rather than answer her question.

“Any preferences? I mean, we have all the Seven movies, including some of my blockbusters.”

She looks at him with a raised eyebrow, “Really? You’re sitting right next to me and I still have to watch you? You are so full of yourself.”

His jaw tightens - it’s clear she’s only teasing, but it’s clear she’s hit a raw nerve. A squeeze of his hand is her apology, making him look down at their entwined fingers. A faint smile appears on his lips, one she’s never seen before. It’s a lot softer, almost as if he’s content.

“Why don’t you pick one of your favourites? Give me a little insight into who Homelander is underneath the suit and matching eagle socks.”

He scoffs, glancing at her. “That’s rich coming from Moon Girl.”

“You know, up until now, I was starting to like you. So you can still get out, even if I can’t make you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he responds with his notoriously smug tone.

[scorpioriesling]

Unsettled (Part 5)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairings: Lucien x reader

Warnings: None!

Summary: Reader is finally able to find her fate, realizing it was closer than she realized all along as she makes a shocking discovery.

SR’s Note: Final part! Omg. Please read part 4 first if you haven’t yet. Also I’d recommend listening to Enchanted by Taylor Swift during this part, specifically starting the song when Y/N is led into the middle of the dance floor through the end of the story! <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

“Are you sure this will work?” You ask nervously.

“I’m positive.” The High Lords reassuring gaze doesn’t do much to settle the nerves inside you as he places a hand on your shoulder and ushers you forward. You’re behind the velvet curtain atop the marble staircase in the grand ballroom, Tamlin to your side. The two of you have been looking for Lucien for over an hour now, not finding him anywhere. This was the last resort, but with your and his knowledge of the dress you were wearing, your royal highness had quite the clever idea.

While clever, it would involve putting you on display.

“Are you ready?” He asks. You shake your head.

“No, but we’ll do it anyway.” You say. He grins at you, and the curtain pulls back, revealing the two of you to the ballroom of High Fae below. You stare down into the sea of people, so many masks, dresses, suits and sparkling headpieces. There’s no way you’d be able to find Lucien from here. But he sure would be able to see you. If he was still in the ballroom, that is.

“Could I have your attention, everyone, please.” The room instantly quiets at the sound of the High Lord’s voice echoing throughout the vast space. He stares into the crowd, scanning from person to person.

“I had the honor this year of inviting a very special person to this event, and to my humble delight, she said yes,” he begins. You blush. Though it had been established you would remain only friends, whoever ended up with the High Lord would be one lucky lady.

“…This woman is my very talented, very intelligent friend, Y/N.” The room begins to clap, and you curtsy to them. He clears his throat. Oh boy, he isn’t done.

“Many of you asked about the decorations on your way in tonight — these were provided by Ms. Y/N, so you can thank her for those.” He slides his eyes to you and raises a brow, as if to say, are you ready? You take it as your cue, and step as close as you can to the balcony so the onlookers can see your dress in full.

“But other than florals, Y/N has come up with quite the creative attire tonight; no offense to anyone, but she outshines everyone here.” A mixture of laughter and murmurs linger through the crowd, jealous fae and those finding the High Lord funny or agreeable alike. You look back over your shoulder and Tamlin nods to you one last time.

“I’ll allow her to show you herself.”

That’s your cue.

You bunch the skirt of your dress in one hand, Tamlin appearing beside you to take your other. Holding your hand above your head, you begin spinning, hand held tight to the bit of stability he provided above you. The crowd begins to gasp and erupt in conversation as your dress fades from autumnal amber to fresh spring pink, the magic laced into it removing the original latin-style off shoulder balloon sleeves as well. You’re left in a strapless, glittering, fresh rosé gown, and the crowd below erupts in applause. Tamlin leans in.

“I told you it’d work.”

You laugh, a wide smile stretching across your face. He drops your hand, and you both bow to the crowd below once more.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let the dancing resume!” You take Tamlin’s elbow in your hand as he leads you down the grand staircase.

“Thank you,” you say once you get halfway down. There is already a crowd forming at the bottom, likely looking to converse with the High Lord. You’d let them; you had a Vanserra to find.

“Ohh, that was nothing. It made my night more interesting, at that.” He says with a smile. You pause just before the last few steps and turn to him.

“I mean it. Thank you.” He smiles as you reach for his golden mask and pull it from his face, revealing the handsome exterior beneath. You press a small kiss to his cheek, and he lets you go as you once again descend on the crowd to look for Lucien.

✧･ﾟ: *

There was only a few dances left, and time was running out. Maybe Lucien left. He did say earlier he didn’t enjoy these things much, right? Or he found them boring? You couldn’t remember. That was unfortunate; maybe he didn’t even see your public display just for him, just to get his attention.

You’d talked with a few faeries in passing while trying to find Lucien, but no matter there you looked, you couldn’t find him anywhere. You were down to the last two songs of the night when you found Tamlin once more.

“You didn’t end up finding him, huh.” He says, sounding a bit dejected himself. You sigh, tossing your mask onto one of the marble stairs and looking down at the floor.

“No… no I didn’t.” You say. Tamlin sighs, and taps his foot.

“Well… there is only one song left after my announcement, and then after that everyone leaves,” he says, trying to sound hopeful. “Think of it this way; at least it’s almost over, and it wasn’t all bad was it? It was at least kind-of fun?” You offer him a sad smile.

“Yes. It was kind-of fun.” He pulls you in for a hug, and you fight to keep the tears from spilling over. All that practice, all those hours, all that work. All you wanted was for one dance with Lucien, just one! And he’s no where to be found. He probably hated you, he wouldn’t even talk to you earlier. You just might have missed your chance.

The song playing ends, and Tamlin releases you, winking before jogging up the stairs once more. Everyone peers up at him, and the room is almost silent.

“The traditional last dance of the masquerade is done by the High Lord and a partner to the Spring Waltz. Everyone is welcome to join, grab a partner and let’s begin one last time for the night shall we?” Applause and cheers ring out, and you almost don’t feel the hand on your shoulder until it taps you once. You spin around to come face-to-face with the copper mask of a fox. It doesn’t take long to see the eyes within, and the red hair flowing behind the wearer’s face. You gasp, and throw your arms around Lucien on instinct.

“Lucien!” You exclaim, your cry muffled in the fabric of his white collar. His hair tickles your forehead as you squeeze tight, his arms wrapping around your waist timidly. “Here you are, finally. I’ve been looking for you!”

“H-hey, uh, Y/N…” he pulls you off of him and your smile falls, replaced with the frustration you’d been feeling all night.

“Ohhh no. Do not even start with me,” You say. He removes his mask, and stares back at you with a raised eye brow.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been looking for you all night!” You squeak. Your hands begin to shake. This is it, this is the moment. “I was trying to find you and I couldn’t, I thought you left and-“

“I didn’t see a point in staying.” He said flatly. You roll your eyes.

“Any why is that?”

“I saw you. Outside.” He says.

You shrug in confusion. “Alright? What do you mean?”

“With. Tamlin.” He says, tone clipped. Your face softens when you realize what he is referring to.

“Oh… oh no that,” you laugh. A muscle twitches in his jaw.

“What is so funny? You kissed him. You quite literally kissed him.” He says, face tight with anger. You smile sweetly at him, happy to know what you feel is reciprocated.

“And… you’re unhappy about it?” You press. He crosses his arms and huffs.

“Are you kidding? Of course I’m unhappy. Why would I like to see the woman I’ve been trying to convince myself I don’t have feelings for, for MONTHS, mind you,” he takes a breath. “…kissing my best friend?”

You only offer him a smile. “That’s why you ordered all those flowers?” He gives you an incredulous look.

“Yeah! I ordered the damn flowers, ok? I wanted to see you - wait, how did you know about that?” His brows knit together. You giggle, and place a hand on his jaw, brushing over it gently.

“Tamlin told me all about it, after we figured out we’re just friends. Only, friends.” You clarify. His face softens, hope filling his eyes. A small smile creeps onto his face, as one of his hands finds your waist. You let out a small gasp as his gaze meets yours.

“You still owe me a favor.” You don’t roll your eyes this time.

“Mhm…” You nod. “What do you want?” He takes your other hand in his, the fit perfect.

“Dance with me.”

Your heart leaps as he guides you to the very middle of the room, the song only just beginning. The other fae seem to part like the sea, leaving the floor open for you. Lucien’s grip on your waist is firm, and heat flushes your cheeks. Subconsciously, you’ve been dreaming of a moment like this. A moment so perfect, you feel like a queen in a royal dress, dancing with your prince. His other hand clasps yours, bent at the elbow, and he begins moving. You almost begin to worry, you hadn’t danced with him before and you didn’t want to mess anything up. It was, after all, the last dance of the evening.

“Follow my lead,” he says quietly. You smile up at him, finding his stare already upon you. He guides you back and forth, the intricate combination of footwork flowing so easily between the two of you. As the melody ramps up, he dips you low, twirls you around, and holds you close to him. Neither of you notice the dance floor clearing, making way for the two of you who are far more intriguing to watch than any other pairs who were dancing along before. Tamlin watches in satisfaction from the top of the staircase above.

You break eye contact for just a moment, and catch the sight of almost every High Fae staring back at you. You’re instantly insecure; it wasn’t meant to be like this, and you felt bad for embarrassing Lucien by putting him out here on the spot with a lesser faerie this way.

“Lucien,” you whisper. He grins at you, sweeping you to the left. “I think everyone’s staring at you.” You say. He chuckles, letting go of your hand to place both hands on your waist now. You try to keep your breathing steady.

“Trust me,” he says, leaning impossibly close and dipping you low once more toward the ground. His lips almost touch yours as excited whispers emit from the crowd around you. “…they’re all looking at you.”

You continue the waltz, finishing with a curtsy and an uproar of cheering around you. Tamlin announced the end of the ball, and everyone begins to file out of the ballroom, milling about and continuing conversations about the night while seeing themselves on their way.

Lucien’s hand finds the small of your back, and it feels like electricity shoots through you from where his skin meets the fabric of your dress. “Mind if I see to it that you make it to your carriage safely?” You smirk at him.

“What happened to the sassy, arrogant male I met just a few months ago?” He scoffs, pulling you into him and beginning the walk to the front of the estate. It isn’t until you’re halfway down the front staircase that he stops, ending up one step lower than you. He turns and takes both of your hands in his, thumbs slowly rubbing circles into the backs of your palms.

“It seems we’ve been here before,” you begin.

“I think last time, you threw petunias at me.” He says, and you laugh.

“Peonies!” You correct, simmering to a giggle. He smiles, an open mouth smile that you have grown to love. The circles on your hands stop, and his smile grows into something else. Something more as he pulls you closer to him, hands now playing with the seams on your dress and running up and down your sides.

“You have the most beautiful laugh I’ve ever heard Y/N.” He says. You feel as through air is between each of your bones; you’re weightless, you’re on a cloud. He looks you up and down, slowly dragging his eyes from the bottom of your skirts to where he meets your eyes again, and finally settling on your lips. “I didnt mind being your fake date to the ball, but…” he laughs nervously. “I think we could be something more. If that’s what you want, anyway.”

You have to fight the urge to cling to him and kiss him all night long.

Instead, you place a hand on his jawline, your thumb running across his bottom lip. His eyes widen, then grow dark with need. The tangly feeling in your stomach feels like wet noodles being pulled from boiling water, and being straightened out one by one. Finally, it’s all becoming clear.

Cauldron, please just kiss me Y/N.

You swear you can hear his voice in your head. Playing along, you try answering it.

It’s all I want to do. It’s all I’ve wanted for months from you, Lucien.

His eyes grow wide. “Are you serious?” He asks. You drop your hand, but his don’t leave your sides.

“You… you can hear me?” You ask.

“In my head yes, like you’re speaking aloud.” He answers. Just like that, you both feel everything making sense all at once. Those twisty, weird feelings aren’t so twisty anymore. They’re clear, defined, and no longer leaving you feeling unsettled.

As soon as the bond snaps into place, Lucien looks so happy he could cry. A tear actually falls freely down your cheek, a happy laugh escaping your lips. Lucien takes the opportunity to pull you close and crash his lips onto yours. The short scruff tickles your soft skin, and you tangle your hands in his hair. His hands pull you to him, settling on your lower back and stroking up and down as his lips move against yours. He tastes like cinnamon and vanilla; you can’t get enough of it. The feeling inside you — the bond — only growing more taught with each passing moment you are connected with one another. Finally breaking the kiss, Lucien pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, and you jump as a soft crackling sounds overhead.

Beams of light steam through the sky, firework after firework exploding in an array of colors for everyone to see. Lucien pulls you close to his chest, kissing the top of your head as you watch the wondrous pops of color overhead. His arms wrap around your waist as he stands behind you, and you watch until the last one sprays across the night sky. The masquerade attendees clap, and you join in too. Many of the fae take that as a final que to leave, and you do the same.

“I suppose I’ll be coming around the estate more often to see my mate?” You ask, the last word so foreign on your tongue. Foreign, but pleasant. Comforting. Lucien plants another kiss on your lips, spinning you around and cupping your face in his hands.

“You can do anything and everything you please; I’m all yours.”

✧･ﾟ: *

[the-kingshound]

SSecond volume's cover for TKH inspired Webtoon:

The King's Bride Wishes For Death: MC's hands hold out, being escorted by both our very own dear knights Elaine & Yniol. Elaine kisses MC's fingers, while Yniol's sword pulled out to swears on loyalty to the Consort. They're both well-dressed in armor, indicating their seriousness and devotion to the Royals of Camelot.

To Hide The Royals' Love Affair: Servant/Worker hides behind the walls to remain discreet from a suspicious figure. For unknown reasons, they're not the only one hiding. Bedivere is just beside them, the knight their Consort disfigured, now helping them to hideout. Could they be one of the love interests?

To Survive The King's Harem: MC meets Saraah, after years of miscommunication. They stand face to face, with a bouquet of asphodel presented in middle, indicating Saraah's regrets never reaching out to MC since marriage. A red silk fly and tie along servant/worker's forehead, indicating the thread of lives to one another is not easy to cut off. Also, a new mission: find a way to fix and bring back Consort and Sarah's relationship - as before - Saraah decided to commit abduction of MC to make sure they're free from the Council of Camelot.

Bedivere helping MC hide and possible LI? Ohh. Quite in character actually.

Also, the plot with Saraah is both so clever, but heartbreaking too...

[tinybirbwrites]

The Ultimate Strategy (Astarion & Reader)

This is very silly. Set rather early on in the game. Nothing romantic, just silly and fun. Gender neutral reader, no use of y/n, sort of implied player!reader. Sort of graphical description of someone being set on fire? Not too graphic but it happens. 1,6k words.

People would often think you’re stupid—Astarion could tell by the way they looked at you or talked to you. He himself thought you weren’t the brightest of the bunch when he first met you. Ohh, but you weren’t stupid at all. Yes, maybe some logical thinking and some puzzles proved a challenge for you, and sometimes the subtext was too hidden for you to see, but you could read people quite well. You could tell when they were trying to fool you; there was always that little knowing smile on your lips and that glimmer in your eyes when you knew exactly what they were trying to do, and yet you went along anyway to humor them, only to beat them at their own game. 

Sometimes Astarion wondered whether you were a master diviner, someone who dreamed about the future every night, because he swore some things you knew shouldn’t be possible. He would see you buy or collect some strange item and think “how unnecessary,” only to be proven wrong a little while later. 

“Humor me,” he said to you one morning, making you look up from your bowl of leftover food from the evening before. “Why are we collecting these?” Astarion gestured over to the big pile of barrels, each either containing oil, smokepowder, or firewine. Quite hazardous, which is why it was being kept far away from Karlach’s tent. You had insisted on collecting each explosive item you could find and carry it back to camp, and because everyone had grown to trust you, no one argued. Because, just like Astarion, the other companions had also noticed your futuristic insight and fondness for ridiculous yet clever strategies. 

You beamed at him. “I’m so glad you asked, Astarion.” Putting your bowl down for the time being, you instead took a stick and drew some lines into the dirt. “Using your wonderful imagination for a moment here, you would see that this,” you tapped the middle of your drawing, “is the place right outside the grove. You know, where we first encountered the goblins that were attacking the tieflings and humans outside the gate.”

He tilted his head, then went to stand directly behind you to look over your shoulder. “I can sort of see it. What about it?”

“Well, my dear friend,” you turned your head and grinned up at him, waggling your eyebrows. “What if I told you that there will be a big confrontation, and we could easily solve it with the right means.” You nodded towards the barrels. “Just imagine; the whole field, full with explosive barrels. One little bolt of fire and they all go boom.”

Astarion imagined it, and yeah, okay, that sounded like fun alright. “And who are we blowing up, exactly?”

“The goblin army, of course,” you said, as if it was obvious. Noticing his frown, you quickly explained, “Everyone keeps talking about ‘the big goblin problem’ this and ‘the goblin camp’ that. Obviously there will be a confrontation at some point, and I just wanna be prepared for it. We’ll probably find out more once we go to the goblin camp ourselves.”

He raised an eyebrow, partly impressed, partly doubtful. “And, what? We just put barrels all over the field and hope they won’t notice and just walk right into the trap?”

You pursed your lips. “Okay, good point. Either we bury and hide the barrels, or we, uhh… Maybe we could put some illusion spell on them? Surely Gale knows a way.”

Astarion stared at you for a moment. “You’re only thinking about this now? You honestly thought the enemy wouldn’t notice—” he looked over at the pile and roughly estimated the quantity, “thirty-something explosive barrels standing around an open area?”

You cleared your throat and put the stick away to keep eating. “... Maybe. But, hey, thanks to you, we can prepare for it now. Thanks, Astarion.”

He could have made more indignant and snarky comments, could have teased you more, and usually he would have. But your smile was so earnest and genuine and bright, all he could do was make a small noise at the back of his throat and shake his head.

Turned out that Gale did indeed know some good spells to disguise the barrels, by putting an illusion on them to make people think they were something else, like a bush or a piece of wood or a big rock. After a few hours of setting everything up, you declared a job well done and that you all would infiltrate the goblin camp the very next day. 

Again, things worked out more smoothly than Astarion thought.

You’d revealed the grove’s location to the drow, Minthara, much to the other companions’ shock. When Karlach took you aside to question your decision, you had assured her that everything would be fine. “I planned for this, remember? It will all work out, trust me. They won’t step one foot into the grove, I won’t let them.”

Astarion personally didn’t really care either way—he had absolutely not grown fond of the tiefling refugees or any of their thieving children, thank you very much—but he was very much invested in your strange plan at this point.

So when the time came, tieflings and druids warned about the goblin army (with most of the refugees actually preparing for the fight, while the druids hid away like cowards inside the caves) and everyone stood up on the hill by the big horn, and you watched as at least a hundred goblins, big and small, together with their blood hungry pets marched up to the gate, you were confident. Perhaps even a little smug.

Minthara was on higher ground, the hill near the middle of the field, and Astarion remembered how you had insisted on carrying several barrels up there as well, fretting about their exact positions. Again, he was convinced you must have somehow known about this. This couldn’t be just a lucky guess or coincidence. 

Some of the goblins even carried little explosive barrels on their backs, which were lit up like a bomb as they ran towards the gate to blow it up. Before they could get any closer, you had already given Astarion the order to shoot the fucker down and let it explode next to one of your own hidden barrels. 

He held his breath, and everyone watched as the chaos unfolded so very beautifully. It was a wonderful and perfect chainreaction; one barrel exploded, immediately setting off the next, and then the next, the fire and explosions taking all of the goblins with it. Before Minthara could react, you quickly told Gale to throw a firebolt at one of the hidden barrels near her position as well. It hit, and Minthara was soon blown off the hill and hit the oil-covered ground. She screamed as she was burned alive, trying to put herself out and sort of succeeding. 

“Karlach, Wyll, can you take her?” you asked. 

“Thought you’d never ask,” Karlach growled, taking her greataxe in hand. 

“With pleasure,” Wyll nodded, drawing his own weapon. Again, under your command, they drank a Feather Fall potion to jump down, and Gale used some spells to put out the flames so neither of them would get burned to a crisp. They were resistant to fire, but not immune, and everyone knew you didn’t want your friends to get hurt. 

With fresh burns and wounds all over and her ears ringing from the explosions, Minthara could barely put up a fight. She tried, of course, and she did better than most in her position would have been able to. But with both Wyll and Karlach, still at full health and energized, she didn’t stand a chance. Merely a minute or two later, Minthara was dead. The tieflings cheered loudly, some patting you on the back while Astarion did his best to avoid the praise. The gate was opened to let Wyll and Karlach back inside, and you laughed as you were hugged and picked up by several people (sadly, Karlach still couldn’t touch anyone, otherwise she would have probably done the same). 

“That was incredible!” Zevlor laughed. “We barely even had to do anything, and not one of us got hurt!”

Later on, as you cleaned up the battlefield a little with some others, looting the goblin corpses, you eyed Minthara’s armor, then looked up at Astarion with a critical eye.

“What?” he asked, crossing his arms defensively. 

“Do you think this would fit your frame?” You gestured at the armor—it was rather beautiful, golden and dark gray, the shapes of the plates reminiscent of spiderwebs, fitting for a Lolth-sworn drow like her. 

“Maybe,” Astarion said slowly. “Why? You want me to wear it?”

You shrugged. “I think it would suit you nicely. If you want it, it’s all yours. Maybe Dammon could modify it a little if it doesn’t fit, before he leaves the grove.”

Astarion looked down at what he was wearing now—armor mostly made out of leather, good for stealth, but not the most fashionable, in his humble opinion. Then he looked back to Minthara’s corpse, humming thoughtfully. “Oh, by the Hells, why not? But I want it thoroughly cleaned, I can still smell the smoke and oil all over it.” 

You grinned. “It looks so good, right? I kept eyeing it when we first met her.” 

Reluctantly, Astarion relented. “Well, you’re not wrong.” Hesitantly, he asked, “You really think it will suit me?” He wasn’t self-conscious about his looks, of course. He just hadn’t seen his own reflection in quite some time, and he barely had any idea what colors suited him now. Though he supposed he was doing something right, because most people still swooned when they saw him—including even you.

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, trust me. Gold, silver, black, red, blue… all of it would suit you. I think you could make any color work, if done right. But this armor is just… perfect for you.”

Astarion did not blush—he wasn’t even sure if he physically could. But whatever the case, Astarion didn’t blush, ever, for anyone or anything. Absolutely not.

[gabessquishytum]

Dubcon mating with alpha dream except hob knows EXACTLY what hes doing:) hob has been all but throwing himself at dream all semester all "ohh wow i would NEVER leave MY alpha like that.. too bad i dont even have one :(" hell cut it as close as possible going to class through his pre heat just to hopefully give dream a wiff of how slick and fertile he is. Dream does not seem to notice. But hob is one of the few omegas in the school this year so hob thinks his chances are pretty good to be able to get him in rut. He follows dream to his office all smug and confident. But he wasnt prepared for how overwhelming getting held down and rut fucked was!! Hes trying to crawl away despite himself but only gets hornier when dream physically drags him back. Hob has fooled around before but never done more than some over the clothes stuff with an actual alpha.. dream gives him his first knot and latches his teeth to the back of his neck to mate him as well. Hob is a bit teary and dream still hasnt come back to himself.. his pants were ripped off his body along with his underwear but dream lays on top of him so hes not cold. Hob is determined to keep his alpha though. Hes got his gym clothes in his bag and he drags dream off to his own room, planning to hide long enough that the bond solidifies and an emergency break wouldn't be possible anymore :) good thing dream isnt awake to make hob see someone for that!! Hes got a weird sense of honor and hob is doing all he can to make the bond permanent before dream can get in his way :)

-🔪

Oh YES. Sneaky, sneaky Hob. This is excellent.

Hob is ambitious, ok? He’s been told all his life that he’ll never get anywhere or be anything. He sees it as his job to prove people wrong. So he has a plan: put himself through uni, get a fantastic fucking job, and get himself the most eligible alpha he can find.

Not necessarily in that order.

Dream is just perfect. Clever, rich, handsome. Hob can’t understand why anyone would leave him, but he’s not complaining. With Dream’s previous mating bond gone, Hob is free to make his move. He’s a little scared of how it will work out, but Dream has been nice to him and shown an interest in Hob! Not in a sexual way, but that’s only because he’s too professional. Hob is sure that Dream won’t object to them being mated. Hob isn’t the perfect omega, but he’ll do his best. He’s (mostly) a virgin, and he plans to take good care of his alpha. What more could Dream want?

And once he becomes lucid again, Dream is surprisingly compliant. He doesn’t seem angry. He panics at first, but once Hob assures him that he wanted Dream to fuck him and mate him, he just kind of… accepts it. He takes Hob home to his big empty house. He just seems pleased to have an omega around the place!

Hob gets his comeuppance for his sneakiness, because the house isn’t entirely empty. Dream soon introduces Hob to… his son. Orpheus is preschool aged and spends his time split between Dream and Calliope’s homes. Hob is suddenly thrust into the role of step-parent to a child who could conceivably be his sibling, while Dream breathes a sigh of relief because he really needs all the help he can get with Orpheus.

But Hob doesn’t believe in giving up! He rolls up his sleeves (figuratively and literally), speedily reads a couple of websites about blended families, and decides that he’s going to be the best fucking step-parent anyone has ever seen. He does regret his underhanded behaviour a tiny bit, but he’s made his bed and now he’s going to lie in it.

And he still gets to ride Dream’s dick at the end of the day, so… it could be a lot worse. Every time Dream grabs him at the waist and pulls him back onto his cock, shoving his knot more firmly into his hole, Hob remembers how it all started… and he’s honestly really looking forward to his next heat. Dream fucked him so good in his rut, so Hob is pretty sure that spending a pheromone loaded heat with him is going to be amazing. And maybe they’ll even make a little sibling for Orpheus :D

[thegamingcatmom]

trick or treat!?

Carmen: *opens the door, dressed as a vampire*

Carmen, all smiley, showing off those fangs: "Oh, hello there!"

Carmen: *gives you a quick once-over*

Carmen: "Oh, what a clever costume! That deserves a treat, don´t you think?"

Carmen: *reaches somewhere off to the side*

Kate, behind her: *walks by the door and out of sight*

Also Kate, one second later: *walks back into sight, eyes locked on you*

Carmen, about to give you candy: "Here you go, dea-"

Kate: *steps in between you two without an ounce of decorum...or shame*

Kate, leaning against the doorframe: "Why hello there..."

Carmen, releasing a withering sigh: "Otra vez no…" (Not again...)

You: ❓👀❓

Irina, from somewhere inside the house: "On it."

Kate, giving you a not so quick once-over: "Nice costume..."

You: "..."

Kate, a wolfish smile starting to spread: "Y´know what would look even better on you? Noth-"

Carmen: "Katrina!"

Kate: 😏

You: "..."

Irina: *comes up behind them and bonks! Kate on the head with some candy*

Irina: "Stop being a lecher, you weirdo."

Irina: *steps around her to give you the candy*

Irina, smiling at you: "Sorry about her, she´s been off her leash for too long it seems."

Kate, behind her: *scoffs*

You: *gives a genuine laugh as your hand reaches for the candy she´s holding out*

Irina: *stops in her tracks at the sound, her hand unconsciously tightening*

You: *tries to take it*

Irina: *refuses to let go without realizing, eyes locked onto your face*

You: *still trying*

You: "...Uhm, are you al-"

You: *looks up and into molten honey*

Irina: 👁️👄👁️

You: 👁️👁️

Carmen: "...Irina?"

Irina: 👁️👄👁️

You: 👁️👁️...💧

Kate, realizing what´s happening here: "...You´ve got to be shi-"

Tanya, coming up behind them: "What is the meaning of-"

Tanya: *stops in her tracks when she sees you*

You: 👁️👁️💧

...

Tanya: 🫠

Carmen, the confused puppy: "What´s going on?"

Kate, in a low growl: "She´s trying to steal my candy, is what´s going on..."

Kate: *moves to stand between you and Irina before facing her sister*

Kate, in a low hiss: "I saw her first!"

Irina, snapped out of her trance, scoffing: "...You harassed her first, you mean."

Kate, scoffing as well: "Right...because she totally didn´t look weirded out by your creepy ass staring just there. And you call me a lecher?"

Irina: *indignant spluttering*

Kate: 😏

Meanwhile...

Tanya: *makes a beeline for you, walking by her arguing sisters without sparing them a glance*

You: 👁️👁️💧

Tanya, putting on her most charming smile: "Please excuse my little sisters. They wouldn´t know proper manners if they slapped them in the face. Lovely costume, by the way..."

Tanya: *gives you a good once-over*

You: 👁️👁️💧

Kate & Irina, snapped out of it by that blatant insult: "Hey!"

...

Also Kate & Irina, only now realizing their older sister aka coven leader aka topdog aka "it´s my birth right" has entered the fray:

Eleazar: *comes up behind Carmen, stops in his tracks at the sight of Tanya breathing down some human´s neck while Kate and Irina stand by and watch, looking thoroughly done af*

Eleazar: "Oh. What is happening there?"

In the distance: Tanya, flashing a beaming smile: "Correct me if I´m wrong, dear, but...I don´t believe we´ve met. I certainly would have remembered encountering someone as memorable as you. Say, do you come here oft-" Kate, groaning, rolling her eyes: "You serious? That´s such a lame line-" Irina, scoffing, rolling her eyes as well: "As if yours was any better-"

Carmen, looking every bit like a proud mother-in-law: "I think we might find ourselves with a new addition soon."

Eleazar, putting two and two together: "Ohh..."

...

Also Eleazar: "...Fascinating."

Meanwhile...

You, who just wanted some damn candy:

Sigh.

I admire you, y´know.

Came for candy, left (more like stayed) with three waifus. Some candy alright, if you ask me.

Sigh.

Lucky bastard.

.

.

.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! 🎃🍬

And tysm for your ask! 💋

[localratwithcowboyhat]

So I think it's funny, how in like media were its like " the mad scientist, re animating the ded " they're geniuses right? Like they're clever enough to create a formula to do so. Buut when it actually happens and the expiriment does succeed and a alive patchwork corpse is standing in front of them, they like " oooh fuck what do I do ohh no the consequences"

U CANT tell me that all that time were soo furiously fixated on youre little project, IT DIDNT EVEN CROSS YOUR MIND ONCE THAT THEYRE MIGHT BE

CONSEQUENCES