#tempting as it is to give her horns

[thenecropolix]

Since I don't know if I'll ever draw it, these are my notes for a TT Raven redesign:

Having studied a little bit of asian religions in college, the teachings of the monks of Azarath strike me as very Buddhist in nature; iconic as the cloak and leotard are, if I had to change her costume, I'd use some variation of the robes worn by Buddhist monks

That being said, if I kept the hood, I'd make it so that you cannot see Raven's face at all save for her eyes

For a unique twist on that last point, I've considered the thought of Raven donning a Japanese Kabuki Mask to hide her face, specifically one with the Nihon Guma style of makeup (which is representative of the strong silent type of hero); as opposed to a regular person donning an oni/hannya mask, it makes for a fun subversion where we have a demon trying to hide their demonic nature behind a heroic and human mask

This brings me to my next point on Raven's face: as a sucker for monster designs, I'd crank up the inhuman look for Raven, starting off with 2 tusks protruding from the upper jaw, along with either 4 eyes in reference to her dad, or 3 in reference to onis (the third one being forcibly closed by her gem in an ironic twist to the bindi)

On the one hand, it would make sense to base Raven's looks off of the Indian Rakshasa cause of the implied cultural ties... and yet Trigon's design to me has such offbrand Japanese Oni vibes that I feel like if I rewrote her backstory, I'd make it so that Trigon was actually an Oni who's name was an American butchering of his actual name

That being said, the specifics of Raven having 2 tusks is a nod to the Japanese Otoroshi, a yokai that despite it looks is known for its role as a guardian, often depicted on temple gates and only attacking those with wicked souls

Gotta give her a hooked nose to mimic a birds beak (she's called Raven for a reason hahahaha)

Once again as a nod to Japanese folklore, I'd play up the "red oni, blue oni" theme where Raven could have a more blueish skintone to indicate her inhuman heritage (and to contrast Trigon's red)

[beresaad]

my friends keep telling me id really enjoy playing ret pally so i played around in the lightforged cc for one, fell in love immediately, and had to scribble her ✨

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction to You Calling Them Submissive and Breedable

Warnings: 18+, Implications of Smut, Implied Dominant Reader, Implied Submissive Reader, Some Submissive MW2 Characters, Some Dominant MW2 Characters, No Pronouns used for Reader Except for ‘You’, Gendered Spanish Terms of Endearment (Fem-Leaning), Petnames, etc.

Ghost

“Careful, Darlin’,” he says, slowly, lowly, almost hushed. He has you backed against the counter, his hands flat atop it, thick, bulging arms caging you.

He presses his front against yours, his bulge catching you in just the right place.

“Pretty little mouth like that’ll send a man wild.” His breath is hot against your lips, with his just shy of yours. Ready to silence.

“And I won’t be held responsible for what happens when I lose control.”

König

“My, my,” he says, his voice heavy, eyes half-lidded. All the while, he’s approaching you, slowly.

“My little maus is being rather brave today, aren’t you?” He’s condescending. Deceptively so.

With a growl, he pounces, wrestling you down onto the bed, his weight both an unstoppable force and an immovable object as he bunches your hands in one of his, his other at the base of your throat. A warning. He grinds against you, his panting breath quivering at the friction. All the while he’s making dead eye contact with you.

He brings his mouth down beside your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “There won’t be an inch left of you that isn’t mine by the time I’m through with you.”

Soap

“Don’t tempt me, Dolly,” he whines, giving you a pleading look.

When you continue to tease him, to mess with the bull, he gives you his horns.

He pins your arms above your head, a rabid tint in his eye. Feral.

“I warned you,” he breathes, his grip tightening. “Whatever happens now is on your head.” His tone is as serious as death. “And my terms.”

Valeria

She won’t give you the chance to even finish the sentence before she has you pinned against a wall, her chest to your back and a hand around your throat.

“Don’t fuck with me, Querida,” she says, her voice low and hissing. You can feel the darkness settling over her eyes, feel the simmering, bubbling concoction of lust and rage overflow in the way she rocks her hips into the back of yours.

“Because you know I’ll fuck you twice as hard.”

Needless to say, she’s not letting you go until you are perfectly aware that it is you who is the submissive one in this relationship.

Price

“Is that so, Love?” Price’s voice carries, aromatic. His eyes crease and trail your silhouette as he hands you a smile. Throws you a bone. Gives you a chance.

His arms are folded over his chest, the image of strength, resilience, and resolve.

“You sure you don’t wanna take that back?” he says, voice lowering. His head tilts, and his smile begins to retract into a smirk. There’s a hunger to his demeanour. His voice husks.

“Before I make you.”

Horangi

Initially flabbergasted. Then, abashed. Though, he doesn’t want you to know that.

“Negative. A baseless accusation.” He says, humourless. Though, that is his effort to try and hold back the storm, to fortify the floodgates. To keep the excitement in his chest from boiling over.

He stands toe to toe with you, his eyes sharp, dark and unwavering. A look of reproach, though he was from far above it with the thoughts racing through his mind right now.

“And I’d suggest you keep them to yourself,” his hand slithers up your side, takes your shoulder, mock reassurance in his grip. “Before someone decides to punish you for your transgressions.”

Alejandro

“Oh?” His tone is playful as he turns to face you, leaning against the countertop, his arms folded and his smile a signature upon his face.

“Well, then, you’ll have to come and dominate me.” His grin is a disguise. “Only, of course,” he pushes off, walking towards you, intent in his gait. He’s before you now, his chest touching yours. “If you can get me to behave.”

His hand wraps around your hip and squeezes you. His smile is sly. “Else, you’re just a dog whose bark is bigger than its bite.”

“And I can assure you,” his other hand slides around your shoulders, pulls you closer. “That my bite is bigger.”

Rodolfo

“I have no doubt about it, Mi Amor,” he tells you, still carefully crafting you the sandwich you requested. When finished, he passes you the creation, the lack of double-sidedness to his words reassuring. Or inviting. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Little did you know that beneath his butterscotch exterior lay the heart of a lovingly maniacal masochist who, after your little conversation, took to trying to poke the bear, to feed the lion between the bars of the cage.

And you repaid him in kind by giving in to his trap and straddling him, late into the evening, pinning his arms above his head, making vibrant conversation of the obscenities you were going to perform on him.

And he didn’t resist once, instead soaking up every ounce of love you had to give.

Graves

“Sure thing, Doll Face,” he says, blasé. Dismissive. He doesn’t even turn to face you, instead making a mild hand gesture, looking down at his documents.

“Though, let’s be honest,” he flips through his papers. “There’s nothing I can’t make you do for the right sum.” The tinge in his voice is equally as void as before, as if he were stating a fact.

Graves’ fetish for finance (and its many persuasive effects) did little to protect him from your wrath.

And you told him as much – that “No amount can save you now,” before wrecking him.

Truer words were never spoken; especially now as he sat at his desk, his body and pride sore after the fact. Though, he can’t help but crack a smile at the memory. Perhaps he’ll invoke your dominant side more often…

Gaz

“Oh, really?” he says, almost challengingly. He hands you a skeptical look, smiling all the while. Practically chuckling.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Regardless of how capable Gaz is in physical training, he truly is powerless against your advances. That much is proven when he’s pinned beneath you, breathless and whining and clawing at your thighs.

He never challenged you again after that... Well, except when he wanted to.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[anthurak]

So with everything we learned and saw in Episode 4 from Angel, Valentino, Charlie and Husk, here’s a little theory on how the Hotel crew saving Angel from Valentino might play out. Particularly in how Husk’s status as a former Overlord may factor into things.

Because I have a hunch it’s actually going to be Husk, rather than Charlie who gets fed up first and goes out to make a real attempt at getting Angel away from Valentino, given everything we saw between Husk and Angel in this episode. Specifically, Husk aims to lure Valentino into gambling for Angel’s contract.

Now that raises the question of what exactly Husk could gamble with. I see two possibilities:

Option One, Husk full on bluffs Valentino that he still has substantial power as an Overlord and has been hiding it all this time, tempting him with more souls and power. And as we’ve seen most notably in Episode 2, Val in kind of a massive fucking idiot, so I could see him actually falling for this. Essentially, Husk gambles with nothing, save his own soul, for a chance to save Angel.

Option Two, Husk actually gets his power BACK from Alastor. Specifically through fulfilling some mysterious, nebulous condition Alastor set up for him. It could even be that this is what sets up Husk to gamble Val for Angel’s freedom. Alastor returns Husk’s power as an Overlord because he’s curious as to what Husk will do with it now. Which we see, is putting it all on the line again for a chance to save Angel.

Whichever way we get to it, we find Husk in a high-stakes card game with Valentino. And of course, Husk does the classic trope of NOT telling his friends or even the guy he’s doing this for what he’s doing to ‘keep them safe’ and all that. Of course, they do find out. Which will come into play later…

As for the all-important gamble; Husk actually does WIN legitimately against Valentino. However, because Valentino is… well, Valentino he welches on the deal and attacks Husk, and perhaps a recently arrived Angel as well.

Now in the event that Husk was bluffing Valentino the whole time and is actually helpless against a fully-powered Overlord, this would be when Alastor, from afar, actually returns Husk’s own power as an Overlord as some offhand, magnanimous whim. Which of course now allows Husk to actually fight back against Valentino.

What ensues is a full and proper fight between Husk/Angel and Valentino, with all the requisite emotional drama of Angel and Husk admitting their feelings for each other and all of Valentino’s shittiness as a person coming out in force. Maybe like an mlm version of the Bees vs. Adam fight.

However, despite getting his power as an Overlord back, Husk ultimately turns out to not be as powerful as Valentino. Alternatively, perhaps he never gets his power back at all and we just skip to here from Husk winning the bet. Whichever way we get here, Husk and Angel are now at the non-existent mercy of Valentino.

Which is precisely when CHARLIE shows up.

And I imagine what ensues plays out in a flash. Like everyone is only just registering that Charlie has appeared when suddenly everything is on fire. We get only the briefest glimpses, perhaps only in silhouette, of the full-sized horns on Charlie’s head, the great leathery wings coming out of her back and the pitchfork in her hand before she has Valentino by the throat and the mothman starts BURNING, screaming in pain as he is consumed in hellfire.

Basically, I feel that after this episode we are going to see Husk be the one to step up first to try and save Angel from Valentino, given everything we saw between the pair this episode. But at the same time, I think the interactions between Charlie and Valentino, particularly Charlie starting to transform in rage, sets her up as the one who’s going to ultimately put Val down. Specifically via giving us a glimpse at Charlie’s true power.

And I do say glimpse because I imagine the full and proper reveal of Charlie’s ‘Devil Form’ is almost certainly going to be saved for when she’s forced to take on the likes of Adam and the Exorcists, the ones who have been set-up as proper antagonists to Charlie herself.

[honeysuckle-venom]

The Shofar Breaks Your Heart

by Dane Kuttler

When you give a girl a shofar –  no, not a proper instrument of G-d, but a rough-cut horn with no real mouthpiece her aunt brings back from a trip to Jerusalem, don’t make it easy.

Put it up on the shelf in the living room where its curled promise of a shout will tempt her until she can reach it on tiptoe.

Tell her no one has ever found its voice, that she will only make it grunt, bray and sputter like the animal it came from.

Then give her a few years.

Give her an empty garage and a neighborhood Jewish enough to understand what it’s hearing so she can practice until tiny tekiot burst forth from the scrap of ram.

She will be the only one who can ever shape its sounds, can bend the call to tekiah, round off nine drops of t’ruah wailing, fling the anguished cry of a sh’varim from its mouth.

Let her brag about this.  Remember that children are not humble creatures, that the simple act of being heard is their great triumph.  Let her be heard.

Bring her to Hebrew school. Teach her the story of the rabbi who told his students that he would put the words of Torah on their hearts; that the words would only find their way in when the students’ hearts broke. Let her sit with that tale for as long as it takes for her own heart to shatter, for torah and poetry and forgiveness  find their way inside,

play her Leonard Cohen. Let him croon about the cracks in everything, that’s how the light gets in, let her begin searching for light, ask her where she thinks the cracks come from, give her Auschwitz, give her Torquemada, give her pogrom and quota and blacklist, the ashes of all her burnt bridges, give her avinu malkenu, ashamnu, ashamnu, ashamnu, 

watch her break  her heart with her fist.

Give her the shofar.   Let the horn steal her breath, let her begin to understand that she’s not holding a dead piece of animal, but a living prayer.

Teach her: after every blast you can hear the echo of the still small voice.

If you listen for it, you can hear the calls for the wild cries they are; salute them with a straight back when they yank you from your amidah; and should you hear a shofar blower struggle and gasp and strain for each call, imagine yourself a trapped animal, desperate to be heard.

When it’s over, Close your eyes.

Be. Broken. Here.  Before G-d and your people. Be. Cracked.

feel the light and the words come in.

[opultea]

Babe, Look at Me!

Things the Genshin men do to try and impress you. ft. Alhaitham, Lyney, Morax (Zhongli), Itto

Fluff - Romantic - SFW - GN Reader (No Pronouns) - Headcanons

Word Count: 0.8k

Alhaitham

So here’s the thing

Alhaitham ain’t a man to show off

He literally doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of him

Expect for a special someone (¬‿¬)

(That’s you boo)

Alhaitham still doesn’t show off in the classic way. Definitely doesn’t go out of his way to make you view him doing certain things

But if the opportunity presents itself naturally… then why not take it?

I’m talking lifting up the hem off his shirt to wipe sweat off his brow when he’s working out with/near you, changing shirts just a little bit slower than he usually would if you’re around, putting a bit more effort in winning a debate he’s in with another scholar when you’re with him, flexing his bicep when you hold his arm

It’s the little things

But boy do they work

Sports a smug little smile when he sees you affected by him

If you get flustered and smack his chest to tell him to stop, he'll just give you a slight smile and tell you he has no idea what you're talking about

Lyney

As if this guy won't spend ages perfecting that trick where he pulls a bouquet from nowhere so he can gradually pull out bigger and bigger bouquets to give you

He already practices his tricks almost constantly, dead set on perfecting every little thing

But with you on his mind?

That spark to do his best grows into a fervent flame like no other

Lynette doesn't complain about his childish wish to impress you as long as it's improving his performance (and making him happier), but she definitely rolls her eyes at him when she overhears him practising his line delivery for when he gifts you the rainbow roses he bought earlier

He personally invites you to every one of his shows, and though he understands if you can't make it every time, he smiles so wide when you say yes that you're tempted to push aside all your other commitments anyway

After the show, he'll pull you aside and ask what you thought, all while trying to appear as if he isn't nervously awaiting your approval

Morax

I’ve specified Morax here because this is based in the universe of my Zhongli x Cloud God Reader head cannon (from my Where’s My Kiss? drabbles)

Look, he’s a young, proud, powerful god with his eye on the lovely cloud god that he sees roaming above sometimes, and he can’t help but try to do certain things hoping you’ll be watching from your domain

Morax in his dragon form taking more causal flights around Liyue than he used to, certainly not because he knows you can see his magnificent true form from your palace in the heavens when he flies past

Although he doesn’t often involve himself in battle unless necessary, he’s found himself allowing the yaksha to spar with him with the excuse that he believes it will test their limits (and definitely not because he wants you to see how powerful he is)

You agreed to help him train the yaksha, and as you stand at the side of the small battleground Morax locks eyes with you as he does his finishing move in a 'cool guys don't look at explosions' way

Definitely smirks a little when he sees how it affects you

Itto

Actually says the phrase 'Babe, look at me!' all the time

Literally will do anything and then turn to you to receive his head pat and praise

Loves to flex (both literally and figuratively)

Takes extra special care of his horns and hair the night before he's going to see you just to fish for extra compliments

If you don't immediately acknowledge the extra care he took and the extra shine on his horns, he'll clear his throat and place his hand on his head to make you look up at his horns

If you still don't compliment him or act impressed (which you've definitely done just to tease him) he'll get sooo pouty, poor baby :((

But of course, you always act so impressed in the end, often turning it up to eleven jokingly

Itto will take any and all compliments seriously though, no matter how dramatic you're acting with them

"Thanks babe, knew you'd notice."

He acts cool by sweeping back his flowing mane as if he wasn't hunched over pouting two seconds ago

"My horn's are just too cool sometimes, you know? Feels like I gotta reign in my own awesomeness sometimes, otherwise everyone will be all up on me and you'll get lost in the crowd of admirers! And we can't have that, huh? You're the numero uno cheerleader for this numero uno leader!"

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Devil And An Angel

Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: During one of Tony's parties, both of your girlfriends tease you and try to tempt you into giving into your sinful desires.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Threesome, Strap-ons, Fingering, Oral sex, Double Penetration, Dirty talk, Praise, Squirting, Dom Natasha/Switch Wanda/Switch Reader, Brief Aftercare.

General Masterlist

“Are you really not going to tell me?” you complain, looking between both your girlfriends with a small pout.

“You’ll find out soon enough Kotenok,” Natasha coos, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at the action before remembering how you were supposed to be acting grumpy.

“But why can’t I know now?” they laugh at how eager you are to find out what they are going to wear. Tony had decided to throw a party tonight, every couple/relationship must dress up as something together to change it up a bit and have some fun. The problem was, your two girlfriends were reluctant to tell you what they were dressing up as and assured you that anything you wore would be fine.

“Because it’s a surprise,” Wanda says while wrapping her arms around your middle and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now go and get ready and we’ll meet you at the party.” Grumbling, you left to go and get ready, imagining what they could have installed for you.

When you arrived at the party you had to give Tony his dues, the party looked amazing and it was a brilliant idea to have people dress up. You looked around trying to figure out what people were meant to be, smiling at how much effort everyone had put in. Steve and Bucky had dressed up as people from the 1940s, their old fashioned clothing probably from their youth. Peter and MJ were dressed as mad scientists, Peter fluffing his hair up to look crazy and constantly checking to see if it was alright, much to MJ’s amusement. Clint looked so done with the whole party despite it just starting, dressed up in a Santa costume that was from when he pretended to be the jolly man at Christmas for his children. Laura wore an elf hat and a simple dress that suited her, but she was too busy trying not to laugh at her husband. Tony and Pepper just looked incredible, their theme most likely meant to scream money and wealth.

Suddenly, you felt two people lean on your shoulders, their different perfumes invading your senses as you turned to look at them. On your left was Natasha who was dressed in a tight red dress that left little to the imagination, devil horns sticking out of her fiery red hair, black, smokey eyeshadow making her eyes pop and a sinister smirk on her face. Wanda was on your right, dressed in a white, flowy dress with a gold halo in her hair, a soft look on her face compared to Natasha. You chuckled at them, dressed as a Devil and an Angel on each of your shoulders.

“You both look beautiful,” the compliment causes them both to smile at you, the two of them having a turn to compliment your choice of clothing as well. You leaned in to give Wanda a kiss, innocent and sweet, and then turned to Natasha who had no shame in sliding her tongue into your mouth, a small moan escaping you at the action.

“Don’t be tempted by her,” Wanda whispered in your ear, her voice soft while her arm interlocked with yours. “Or there will be no reward later.” You stifled the noise that wanted to come out and just watched as Natasha winked at you before walking off.

Wanda and yourself followed behind and you had to try your hardest to not drift your gaze lower on Natasha’s back. The three of you ended up on a sofa talking with Steve and Bucky, them rambling on about a story from their past while you three nodded along. You were paying attention until Natasha moved closer, her mouth on your ear as her breath tickled the side of your face.

“Do you know how hard I want to fuck you right now?” she purred quietly, “Have you trembling with pleasure as I thrust my fingers deep inside you? Or even better, my cock.” You groan at her words, low enough that no one other than Natasha could hear, making her smirk in victory as she works you up. Her hand grips your thigh, squeezing the skin and moving up higher teasingly before drifting down to rest on your knee. “I could have you coming in my mouth right now in that bathroom,” her gaze travels to the ladies room on the other side of the room, your eyes following as they darken with lust. “Come on, let's have some fun,” she bites down on your ear while no one looks before pulling away and giving you a predatory look that sends another wave of arousal through you, your panties definitely soaked as you clench your thighs together.

After a few moments, Natasha excuses herself to the toilets, her eyes staying trained on you as she gets up and starts to walk away. You remember Wanda’s earlier words and reluctantly stay still in your seat. You know this is a test, Natasha staying true to her outfit and trying to get you to sin with her, give into her temptation and end up with a punishment equivalent to hell. That however doesn’t make it any easier as you suffer with the results of her dirty words and teasing.

You don’t realise that Steve and Bucky had left, leaving you alone with Wanda as Natasha waits out in the bathroom to see if you crack. Her touches are far more innocent that Natasha’s, her hands interlocking with yours, her thumb running over the back of your hand.

“You’re being such a good girl,” she whispers, the praise making you whine slightly. “I bet you’re so wet for us both right now,” your eyes widen at her words, not expecting her to be in on the teasing.

“I thought angels were supposed to be innocent and pure,” you say, hoping she’d stop the torment. She just lets out a low chuckle and smiles at you, making you nervous for what else was to come.

“The devil was an angel once,” she comments, her voice raspy and sultry, “Who says we can’t be tempted as well.” Her hand goes to your thigh, scratching through your clothing and even going as far as your inner thigh near your core to draw invisible patterns. Your breathing hitches and you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything.

Soon Natasha returns, having given up waiting for you, and takes her seat to your left again. She notices the prominent blush on your cheeks and how your hand is gripping the cushion of the sofa, knuckles almost turning white.

“So Y/n,” Natasha starts, drawing your attention away from Wanda’s hand on your leg, “Are you enjoying the party?” you go to answer her question but your breathing stops when your thoughts change.

You’re tied to the bed while Natasha roughly kisses your lips, pulling out moan after moan as her tongue explores the roof of your mouth. Her hands grope at your chest, pinching and pulling at your nipples causing sighs to leave your lips. Wanda was in between your thighs, looking up at you with an innocent look, and licked a stripe up your core, her tongue gathering the wetness that was dripping out of you.

“It’s rude to ignore people,” the spy moves closer to you, her chest pressed up against your shoulder as she talks into your ear. “I’ll ask you one more time,” You look over to Wanda who has a sly grin on her face before Natasha grabs your attention again by sucking on your neck, “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” is all you could manage out in a breathless whisper, mind clouded with arousal and desire as both women relentlessly tease you.

“Are you sure?” Wanda whispers in your other ear, the hand that was teasing your inner thighs moving to drag her fingers over your clothed pussy under your dress, the fabric soaked with your arousal. “Because I'm sure there are more exciting things we could be doing,” you stifle a moan when she starts to circle your clit through your panties and move your hand to sit on top of hers.

“I just want to be good,” your whine has them both grinning, “I’ll do anything you want me to, just please let me be good for you.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Natasha drags you away towards the elevator to get to your shared apartment, Wanda quickly on your tail.

Once you reach the bedroom, Natasha immediately straddles you on the bed, her mouth descending onto yours as she roughly kisses you and slips her tongue into your mouth. The whole thing is hot, her hands tugging your hair to pull moans out of you, her tongue tracing the roof of your mouth while her hips grind down harshly onto yours as she uses you for her own pleasure for the moment. Instinctively, your hands go to her waist, guiding her movements as she ruts against you.

“Fuck,” she rasps out as you both pull away breathless, Wanda unzipping the spy’s dress as she climbs off your lap and passionately kisses the witch. You watch in awe as their tongues fight for dominance, hands roaming freely across each other's body as they undress each other. You can’t move, frozen on the spot as bare skin is exposed to you, Natasha’s red dress dropping to the floor while Wanda’s is pulled over her head and discarded carelessly somewhere. They wear lingerie matching their outfits, Natasha wearing a black and red lace set while Wanda has a gold and white one on.

“Enjoying the show?” Wanda teases, swaying her hips as they both crawl onto the bed to join you. Her lips crash to yours, nothing innocent about her now as her hands rid you of your clothes. Natasha is now behind you, her chest pressing into your back while she bites at your neck, littering you with purple and red marks and sighing wantonly against your ear to make you shudder. Wanda’s hands cup your breasts unceremoniously as you revel in the pleasure, her running her fingers over your hardened nipples and tugging playfully. You lean your head back onto Natasha who moves to nibble on your ear, her hand coming up to rest on your throat, a pitiful moan escaping you.

“Don’t worry Kotenok,” She purrs, “You’ll get what you want soon.” You can feel her smirking into your skin as your hips buck at the contact of her knee slotting between your legs. “But first Wanda has a question, Don’t you Wands?” Her green eyes snap over to the witch who pulls back from the sloppy kiss with you, her cheeks flushed and eyes darkening.

“How do you feel about you and Nat fucking me at the same time?” she whispers against your lips and your eyes widen at the question.

“Fuck that would be hot,” you sigh out, imagining Wanda in between you and the spy as you pound into her from both sides. “Are you sure you want that?” She bites her lip at you sultrily and nods her head before moving forwards to press her lips back to yours.

“On your back baby,” she husks out between kisses and you move away from them both to lay on your back near the top of the bed. Wanda kisses down your body, licking over the marks Natasha made soothingly before ghosting her hot breath over your nipples and then kissing your inner thighs that were slick with your desire for them. “I’m going to give you your reward for being so good for us,” Her breath fans over your core, your hips bucking at the feeling which causes her to place a strong hand on your hip to keep you still. She licks through your folds, her tongue swirling around your clit while her free hand moves to be near your entrance. Her fingers gather your wetness before she thrusts two fingers straight into you, your back arching off the bed as you let out a guttural moan. Her mouth sucks at your clit while she pumps her fingers into you, your hands fisting in her hair as she eats you out

Moans pour out of your mouth when she curls her fingers and you almost scream when you feel her moan into you loudly. Your eyes wander away from the brunette between your thighs and to the redhead behind her. You hear a click of a bottle and assume she’s used some lube to ease one of her fingers into Wanda’s tight hole and let her get used to the feeling and stretch. Wanda’s face moves to kiss at your thigh for a moment, trying to get used to the feeling of something in her ass before continuing to reward you. You softly stroke her hair and let her take her time and watch as Natasha moves to have Wanda sit on her face, her finger slowly stretching her tight hole out.

The room then fills with your moans and Wanda’s muffled ones as Natasha brings her close to coming and manages to work her up to having three fingers pumping in and out of her ass. Your legs tighten around Wanda’s face as you come with a scream, body spasming with pleasure as you ride out your high grinding against the witches mouth. She follows soon after, clenching around Natasha’s fingers and tongue as she screams into you, biting down on your inner thigh to muffle the scream. The feeling was painful but also pleasurable and you’re certain you're going to have a dark mark there later on.

Natasha moves from under her, not wanting to overstimulate her, and carefully pulls her fingers out. You pull Wanda up your body, peppering kisses over her face as she tries to steady her breathing.

“You did so well for us,” you praise, still breathless from your own mind blowing orgasm as you talk to her. She hums in response and slowly kisses you, the taste of yourself on her tongue making you moan into her mouth. “Are you still up for us both?” you whisper against her lips, your hands stroking her back as she presses her body weight onto you.

“Yeah,” she murmurs back and you see Natasha move to get the strap ons before lubing them both up so it doesn't hurt her.

“Remember your safewords?” Natasha asks while Wanda gets off you so you can put the harness on.

“Green for ok, Yellow for slow down and Red for Stop,” Natasha smiles at Wanda softly then pecks her lips and helps guide her to hover above your plastic cock. Your hands move the tip of the toy to rub against her clit teasing before letting her sink down onto it. She moans lewdly as her hips meet yours and slowly starts to rock back and forth. She braces her arms next to your head and moans into a kiss as you thrust up into her gently, her hips starting a rhythm with yours.

Natasha soon has her harness on and moves to kneel behind Wanda while her hands slow her movements down. You whisper comforting words to the brunette, checking if she’s still ok by asking her for a colour, as Natasha slowly pushes the head of the toy into her ass, a loud gasp leaving the witch as she screws her eyes shut. You’re both patient as you let Wanda adjust to the toy, Natasha soon having the whole toy inside her and letting the pain fade to pleasure.

Experimentally, Wanda moves forwards slightly then pushes back, a low groan escaping her as she enjoys the feeling of Natasha and yourself deep inside her. Natasha starts a gentle pace of thrusting in and out of her while you swallow her moans with your mouth and thrust your hips up into her. Soon Wanda starts to move in time with you both, as soon as you pull out, Natasha pushes in and vice versa and her moans become louder.

“Fuck,” she moves to lean backwards against Natasha, who wraps a firm hand around her middle to keep her upright, while your hand moves to circle her clit. “Harder,” She sighs out, the two of you listening and increasing the force at which you pump your hips into her. “Faster,” the sound of skin slapping echoes around the room as you pound into her from underneath and Natasha snaps her hips against her. Wanda’s breasts bounce with each thrust and her legs start to shake as she nears her orgasm. “Please, I’m so close, don't stop,” begs tumble out her mouth as her hips move frantically between the two of you.

With a loud scream, liquid gushes out of her around your cock as she comes, her hips stuttering as her hands grip behind her onto Natasha to stop her body from collapsing forwards. You both slow down your thrusts as she rides out her high, her legs spasming around you while her hands fall off the spy to rest on your chest while she pants for breath. Natasha kisses along her neck and back while she calms down and when you see her wince at the feeling of being so full, you motion for Natasha to slowly pull out. She whines at the motion and soon moves off your lap to lay on the bed next to you.

You quickly discard the harness while Natasha moves to the bathroom to start a bath for you three and pull the witch close to you to murmur praise to her. Her body naturally moves towards you, her face tucked into your neck as she tries to fall asleep, her body exhausted from coming so hard. When Natasha returns, you carry her to the bath and gently lower her in and climb in behind her so she can lean back into your embrace. Natasha also climbs in, helping clean Wanda off and start her aftercare before quickly washing herself from any sweat.

“Are you ready for bed milaya?” Natasha murmurs into the witch’s hair after placing a soft kiss. She nodded back sleepily and the spy helped her dry off before taking her to bed. You quickly drain the tub and dry off yourself before joining them in bed. Wanda curls her body into Natasha but when she feels your presence next to her, she moves her hand back in search of yours and she places it around her middle. You smile at her drowsy actions and kiss them both goodnight before drifting off to sleep.

[give-some-lemons]

Just imagine: Sylus is a dragon king who has a village that pays him tribute in the form of jewels, money, etc, but one day instead of this he demands to give him young maidens, one of which is you. It turns out that his goal is the birth of an heir, but so far no woman has been able to bear a child for some reason. You, despite the king's promises to shower that one woman with luxuries, just want to return home, to your family, and when you try to escape, you are caught and taken directly to the king's chambers, where you meet him for the first time

***

The man towered over the girl with all his menacing presence, studying every little detail of her appearance, facial expressions and movements, which were, or at least seemed too calm for a person in such a situation. Her eyes were lowered to the floor and only the way she placed her fingers and sometimes ran her tongue over her parched lips betrayed her excitation. A large hand on her throat forced the girl to draw air through her teeth, finally meeting the eyes with the owner of these lands. The black horns that were placed on his head added to the already tall creature more height, making his presence even more oppressive, the long snow-white hair that reached his waist, and the sharp claws that dug into the delicate girl's skin as if trying to tear it to pieces. And even despite this, his face seemed to have been created by the best artists of this world, as if the gods themselves had created a beautiful angel who inevitably plunged everyone into sin, tempting mortals to make their own way to hell. His sharp nose, which somewhat resembled a crow's beak, thin lips, which were currently curved into a smile, high cheekbones and a jaw line that seemed to cut you if you touched them, and those predatory, crimson eyes that looked into the very soul of the young lady. Well, now she understood all those women in the palace who were almost singing odes to him, their hearts were forever captured by the terrible, but so beautiful dragon king.

— I knew that there was no use for in education for village girls, but I expected at least some sort of manners. — the man said, leaning towards the face of the young lady, almost touching her forehead with his own. — Didn't your mother teach you that it's rude to stare?

This voice that flowed through her veins like an aphrodisiac was the last particle that kept the girl from succumbing to the charms of this devil, who, as she knew for sure, would destroy her soul and body. But she didn't care anymore. A dark chuckle left the girl's lips before her hand rested on lord’s neck, trailing it down his massive chest and stomach, the muscles of which tensed under the sensual touch.

— I'm just returning the favor.

Shortening the distance between them, the girl fell to the man’s lips, capturing them in a passionate kiss. Slender fingers tangled in the snow-white locks, raking and painfully pulling it, while with the other hand she ran sharp nails across his exposed chest and torso, leaving red streaks. Feeling his own blood on his tongue, the lord smiled through the kiss, tightening his grip on the girl's neck, feeling his heartbeat quicken under the pads of his fingers.

— Well, if you are that brave, you cannot count on my mercy, sweetheart. — the king said as he lifted the young lady up with ease and touched her skin in a chaste kiss before placing her body down onto the soft surface of the bed.

P.S. Saw these precious, wonderful, AMAZING artworks and was wondering why nobody wrote anything in that concept before

[swampstew]

You Picked Dare

Summary: Why the hell would you play truth or dare with a bunch of pirates? Warnings: nsfw but mostly language and suggestive content, no actual smut, Kid Pirates being the Kid Pirates. Killer x Female reader x Kid

Inspired by the mega awesome @magnuspirate who did this delighful tease of two hunky hunks hunking around

Dare.

Dare. 

Dare.

Your bold statement had come out smug and confident, echoing in your head with a twinge of regret.

The Dare was to go into the hot springs and take a photo – of Killer and your Captain. Damn the others for knowing your kryptonite.

There was an opt-out option – to clean the communal bathrooms for a month. No fucking way.

As you walked through the island you took nervous hits of your blunt to ease the butterflies in your stomach. All you had to do was take a picture. There were no restrictions, you could be seen or hidden, as long as you got a photo of them that was all you needed to escape this torturous dare disguised as a group bonding activity.

Fuck the crew! You loved them but also fuck them. You were gonna get them back.

About a hundred yards away from the hot spring you took a final drag and snuffed out the remaining blunt. Giving yourself an internal pep talk as you took each step.

‘Position self behind a bush. Snap a picture. Sneak away and then run like the devil’s on my heels.’

Picturing your devil of a captain, your stomach coiled with anxiousness. Oh how you wished you could light up the roach.

Creeping between the foliage, you could hear Kid and Killer talking to each other in relaxed conversation. They didn’t appear to notice you, silently cursing as you realized they were still too far to take a photo.

Tip toeing on the patches of grass, you could make out their conversation more clearly.

“Ya ever think about sleeping with someone on the crew?” Kid suddenly asked Killer. You nearly fell over yourself when you heard the statement.

“Once in a while, rarely act on it though. You?” Killer mused.

“All the time.”

“Horn dog,” Killer scoffed.

“Can ya blame me? All our girls are hot as fuck.”

“Yeah, but I also see most of them as sisters…”

“You’re so pure,” Kid laughed. “Yeah they’re family, but they’re also not. I’m not saying I’d do anything about it either but it’s tempting some times.”

You felt as if you weren’t breathing, skillfully crawling around the shrubs eager to hear and see more, as silent as the dead. One breath and they were sure to discover you.

“Ahh is this about Y/N again?”

Time stopped. Your heart stopped. You didn’t dare move.

“Could be,” there was a tilt in Kid’s voice. “Don’t pretend you don’t think about her and what it could be like.”

“You’re being vulgar, which isn’t surprising, but what do you expect me to say? ‘Sure Kid I’ll bow out from another person of interest to give you the advantage as your friend.’” Killer legitimately sounded a little mad. Well like, personal hurt mad, not crazy mad which he was every single second.

“I’m a man with needs too. And I LIKE her.”

You wished to be a small lizard so you could watch them argue about you. Maybe the blunt was laced with something – wouldn’t put it past your crew to be honest.

Low growling preceded a laugh, and you could hear the sound of water splashing. Oh to the gods to be a fish in that spring.

“Alright fair enough. Would it make you feel better if we do it together? It’d be her choice who she’d choose no matter what, no hurt fee fees over it. Maybe if we come at her with a multi-partner thing, 50/50 she agrees?”

“Kid!”

“60/40?”

“Stop it.”

“Damn 10/90?”

More splashing of water, waves of it crashing over your coverage and wetting your clothes. Practicing your breathing exercises, you mentally pumped yourself up to get it over with. One snap and bam, you’re gone.

“What if we show her our dicks first?”

“KID!”

“Whadd’ya say Y/N? Wanna check the goods before you sample them?” Kid couldn’t hold back his laughter.

Gods be damned. They all sucked.

Gathering the last ounce of dignity and lighting your roach, you jumped out from behind the foliage with your camera, looking to the side as you snapped the picture. Whether is was worthy enough to pass was no longer your priority.

“IT WAS A DARE!!!!” you screeched as your turned on your heel and bolted. You poor thing, you didn’t make it past 1 yard.

“Oh you’re not going anywhere, Y/N,” Kid taunted as Killer wrapped his arms around you and picked you up. His towel becoming loose and distressed from your struggling. Bringing you back to the hot spring.

Taking the camera, Kid tossed it in the water with the smuggest face a motherfucker could make.

“We showed you ours, now we dare you to show yours.”

[winterzxsoldierz]

War Child

Part two, read part one first Bucky Barnes x (Fem) Reader

Warnings: Traumatic flashbacks, hydra, blood, mentions of human experimenting, violence.

Description: You're a hydra experiment or had been since you were young, for years you lived in the cold walls of Siberia and when you finally get free, faces and demons of your past come knocking.

Reader is an enchanted superhuman, she has the super soldier serum giving her, super speed, super strength, a healing factor, fast metabolism, endurance, strong lung capacity & etc, she also has both fire and ice magic. The time line in this will review the past and present.Reader can look anyway you want. Her soon love interest will be Bucky.

Italy (Present, four months later) Your Pov

Rain droplets hit the windows of my apartment, the sound soothing to my racing mind and fast pounding heart as i gather my personal things around my apartment, which isn't a lot, i grab my get away back and gun, i check the clip making sure it's fully loaded and shove it into my jacket pocket once satisfied, i sling the backpack over my shoulder and make my way towards the fire escape, the sounds of loud thudding boots and German orders could be heard outside, my former apartment's door. I'm already out and down the fire escape, when the hydra soldiers knock down the apartment door with force, i'm tempted to look back but i don't, i run, picking up the pace, soon i'm crowded around the busy streets with a ton of people, i didn't need to run, now that i could blend in with the moving civilians, i look around, my eyes moving on every man in view, i glance at the making sure i don't see that god forsaken symbol, i once thought had meaning, but seeing i'm in the clear, a sigh of relief leaves me. It's not long until, i get away and closer toward a public transportation area, i get onto the train with no destination in mind, but i knew Italy was no longer somewhere i could stay. Siberia 1958 (flashback)

"My child, time for another procedure." Zola's voice rings through the intercom, his german accent thick with a dark intent, your cell door opens and one of the hydra soldiers walk in and grabs you by the forearm. you're pushed into the lab and you immediately take a seat on the metal experimenting table, you look around the lab, when suddenly your eyes land on a giant tube in the corner, in it lies a man, you seen him a few times over the past few years, he teaches you how to use weapons, seeing him like that makes something uneasy grow in the pit of your stomach and you can figure out why. "Interesting isn't it?" Zola's voice suddenly was right next to you causing you to flinch, to which he chuckles, he pushes you down on the table and nods to the guards to strap you down, "The machine keeps him alive, and well, until his help is needed again." Zola explains, as he lays down a tray of sharp objects, his eyes meet yours again and a grin appears on his lips as he speaks "You are growing my child, soon we will need you more than you think." he murmurs, while injecting you with something that makes you go numb and physically unfeeling immediately "This will only take a few minutes, don't be afraid." he says, his tone is meant to sound soothing but it sends coldness down your spine. He cuts into the upper side of your right arm and picks up a small chip, he clicks a little button and places the chip under the bloody skin, he then wipes the blood from your skin and he nods towards the guards. The guard nods back pulling something out of a flaming furnace, making the blood in you pump, the tool the guard pulls out is a hot metal rod, with a star embedded on it, the guard wastes no time to place the hot rod on the skin of your arm where you were cut at- The sound of the loud train horn awakens me, i look around panting as sweat trickles down my forehead, Thump...Thump...Thump i hear the sounds of my own heartbeat in my ears, i swallow thickly and wipe at my face, looking around there is barley anyone in the train cart with me, it's a bit eerie, i knew it wouldn't be long until they found me again. "Rain again? great." i think to myself, walking out of the train station, i walk past a few people and drop the small tracking chip into the trash can hoping it'll throw off hydra for a while, digging into my pocket i pull out a map, i had no destination in mind, only survival so i let my feet take me wherever.

Avenger's tower (Present) Avengers pov "Well Italy was a dead end." Tony huffs, and pinches the bridge of his nose, he leans back in his chair, the stress of this was wearing him down. "It was, but it also wasn't, she left in a hurry like she was panicked, her door was kicked in and the place was ransacked, my guess it was hydra." Natasha comments. "She slipped up though, she left behind a notepad." every ones attention turns to Bucky who had been silent this whole time, he sets down the little book for everyone to see, Steve is the first to pick it up and look at the first few pages, it has a few hydra base locations and leader names, Steve looks at Bucky and raises his brow, "You think these are still up and running?" Bucky shrugs in thought "Impossible, it can't be unless they're rebuilding." the conference room is silent, everyone is tense and unsure of what's to come.

Queens, New York. (Present) Your Pov

It had been a few days since i fled from Italy and came all the way to america, it was a big step and risky but, i think it'll throw hydra and whoever else that's looking for me off my trail, i had been trying to find a place to stay in that's warm enough to keep me from freezing to death, but there's only so many places i can go, New York is a big place. Turing into a darkened alleyway, i spot movement from the corner of my eye and i freeze and stand still, and slowly i move my body towards the direction, ready to fight if i have to, but instead there's no fight and just a cat...? my brows furrow and i walk into the direction where the animal is, it's almost as white as the snow on the ground, after approaching the cat i bend down to pat it but then i hear a voice coming into the alley, it's a voice of a young boy who sounds panicked "Oh no, Mr. Bucky is gonna kill me for this, Alpine! Alpine!" Peter calls out, his tone panicked." Peter continues to walk down the alleyway and stops when he sees me with the cat, he stares at me and i stare back, his expression is confused and slowly but surely it turns into recognition and a gasp leave him and he points "Hey y-you i-it's you, the women, you're Y/N the avengers have been looking for you."

i stare at the boy as if he had grown two heads and slowly i back away from the cat, and dart down the alleyway, the boy yells but i don't stand around to listen to him, i'm nearly out the alley but something gets stuck on my foot causing me to trip and hit my chin on the ground.

i ignore the pain and look at my foot and i frown wondering what the heck this sticky stringy stuff is on my foot, i pull some of it of and see the boy approaching me, he speaks while holding his hands in surrender "I-i'm Peter, miss just listen, you're in a lot of trouble, i can get some help." my eyes widen and i burn off the rest of the webs and stand "No, you will get no one, go away child." i tell him as i brush the snow off me.

Peter stands there, a look of determination in his eyes and again he speaks "Let me help you then, my aunt, she can help with the gash on your chin, and it's cold, i promise i won't tell the avengers." I look peter in the eyes, looking for any dishonesty but i find none and i nod slowly "Just to clean my wound nothing more." i tell him firmly. Peter smiles and picks up the cat and leads the way out of the alley and together you and Peter walk down the streets of new york toward his aunt's apartment as he rants to you about Star Wars.

This one is a bit short but, there will be more, i'm gonna have you the reader, befriend peter first before anyone.

@weirdperson-1 here's part two, sorry for the delay

[underdark-dreams]

Thank you so much for your Tiefling smut contributions! I am so lovesick for Rolan and wanted to request--Rolan x fem Tav at the grove party? I know it's super early in both of their arcs but I can't help but wonder. 💕

Rolan x Fem!Tav (Unnamed)

Good Night For Company

"Would you mind if I kissed you?" Sometimes you need to feel lonely before you notice the person sitting right beside you.

Tags: Fem Unnamed Tav, Kissing, Accidental Cuddling, Feelings Realization | SFW

Word Count: 5,443 [Read on AO3]

Sometimes it was lonely to be the hero, she thought to herself.

Their camp was fuller and merrier than she’d ever seen it. Every last Tiefling she’d met at the Grove had joined them for a night of celebration, bringing along every last bottle of wine and spirits they could get their hands on as way of thanks.

Unsurprisingly, all eyes in camp seemed to be searching for someone else to spend the night with. Who could blame them? Mortal peril and hard-won victories tended light a fire in people, herself included. 

Yet somehow she still found herself short on options. Everyone at camp seemed more interested in clapping her shoulder in thanks than joining her for a night of abandoned pleasure. Even her close companions hadn’t taken much interest in what she had on offer.

Astarion was the only one who had made her an invitation. She practically felt grateful to him for it. He would tempt anyone, of course—just look at him. But underneath his beauty, there was a dark edge about the elf that made her hesitate in the end. How was it Gale had described him? ‘A tiger when it purrs.’ 

Honestly, she wouldn’t have said no to Gale, either. He was certainly attractive, and there was a sad weight to his shoulders that seemed to invite comforting. The kind she wouldn’t mind giving. Yet despite the lonely shine in his eyes, he’d made it abundantly clear to her in his loquacious way that his mind was elsewhere this evening. She left him alone to his private reflections.

She at least expected their own cheerful Tiefling to be smack in the middle of the evening’s revelry. Tonight, Karlach was nowhere to be found. Only when she later glimpsed Shadowheart’s tent standing dark and noticeably empty did she put the pieces together. 

Well, good for them. At least two of their group might have a chance at a lay tonight.

No such luck for her, it seemed. She raised the bottle of Ithbank to her lips and tried not to feel too sorry for herself. The last few days had been long, exhausting, positively brutal…her muscles ached from overuse. Really, a good night’s sleep should be more than enough to satisfy her. 

And yet—how nice it would feel to be touched and held with tenderness, even if it wasn’t real, even just for one night. Just enjoy a harmless tumble in someone’s bedroll before everything crashed around them again. The thought of the long road that would greet her in the morning made her groan, and she shook the thought away. 

It hardly helped her souring mood to see Danis and Bex practically sitting in each others’ laps in the middle of camp, gently knocking their horns together with affection. She averted her eyes and took a rather resentful swig of wine as she trudged past.

“Go on then, give us a show!”

Teasing laughter came from just ahead. At the edge of camp, she happened upon the three Tiefling siblings from the Grove. Rolan, the oldest, stood flexing his hands as if preparing for an impressive feat. As she approached, she thought for just a moment that he glanced in her direction.

His brother Cal heckled him mercilessly from the rock where he and Lia were perched. “Lose your nerve, wiz?”

Rolan sighed, long-suffering. “Have you no respect for showmanship?” Not leaving time for any more smart comments, he flourished his hands upward with a low incantation.

The effect was like tiny stars, or fireflies, or some combination of the two. Sparkling lights spread and popped above their heads, leaving behind a violet mist that gently faded into the night.

She found herself smiling up at the sky. It wasn’t a powerful display, but it was lovely nonetheless. And certainly unique. She wondered how one went about inventing a Weave spell; she wouldn’t know where to begin. 

Tucking the bottle against her chest, she offered a little round of applause. Cal looked over at her then and let out a groan of amusement. “Not you, now he’ll keep at it all night.” 

"Shut it," Rolan shot at him, positively glowering. Lia was clutching her side in laughter at his expense.

Two against one; that was siblings for you. She was in a newly generous mood after his pretty magic, however, and decided to lend Rolan a hand.

"Surprised you're still here," she said, cocking her head toward Cal. "Last I heard, Lakrissa was looking for you."

Cal's neck practically snapped with how quickly he craned it around camp. Lia turned her mirth on him, aiming a punch at his shoulder.

"As if, you idiot," she chuckled. "She's only about ten times out of your league."

"You don't know that," Cal told her, completely thrown off teasing his brother as he rose to look around the party hopefully. "She told me I had a good parry one time—I could have a chance—"

As he wandered off, Lia threw up her hands and rose to follow him. "Guess I'll go save Lakrissa. Or maybe just watch what happens. Nice one," Lia added over her shoulder, grinning appreciatively at her. 

She and Rolan were left standing alone to the side. There was some awkward shuffling of feet; somewhere past the campfire, Volo launched into his third stanza of Tymora's Melody. A song to make people lucky, she seemed to recall. A suggestive choice for the night.

"Drink?" She broke the silence, offering out the bottle of wine. Relief flooded Rolan’s face.

"Gods, please." He accepted and took a generous pull.

"You certainly have your hands full with those two, don’t you." She bit back a grin at the way his brow crinkled in response.

"They are…" Rolan cast around for the word. "Challenging. But I don't have to tell you that," he added, glancing sideways at her. "We were bickering the first moment you met us."

"That's just family, though," she laughed, taking the wine back from him. Their fingers brushed together slightly over the bottle.

“Nevertheless. My thanks.” He waved his hand in a general motion, but she could tell he meant her intervention before. 

“Don’t mention it,” she told him. 

Seeking a reprieve from the merry music and voices around them, her feet idly made their way toward the edge of the fire's light closer to the riverbank. From the corner of her eye she saw Rolan follow. They settled on a log of driftwood that faced the scenes at camp. 

"So, you're finally making your way to Baldur's Gate," she said. It wasn't a question; he'd already told everyone who would listen about his apprenticeship with Lorroakan of Ramazith.

"Finally.” His eyes glowed with pure enthusiasm. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. The slightest delay has felt like an eternity.”

“And Cal and Lia? They must be excited, too.”

“Of course” he said, though his lips raised in a little smirk. “They’ve never been to the Gate, so they don’t quite know what to expect. But they’re just as eager.”

She watched him for a moment as she turned the bottle over in her hands. "You're quite sure of yourself, aren't you."

Rolan looked at her with a challenging expression. “Tell me, in our position, what else is there we can be sure of?"

He almost made her regret herself. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just that you’re very—”

“I expect most wouldn’t guess that a hellspawn could earn a position under the greatest archmage on the Sword Coast,” Rolan said before she could finish. 

His moods were volatile as a storm; turning this way and that without warning. She was never sure what to expect from him. Before she could protest his assumptions about her, he continued onward.

"We three never had much between us, you know." Rolan’s voice was abruptly low and bitter. "Somehow we've got less now than we started with. Not even our birthplace anymore. The one thing I’m sure of is my magical talent. I'm not going to deny it for the sake of being modest—" he tossed the words out with contempt. "Not when it's the one thing I always knew I had in spades. With the right instruction, I could be inimitable."

She studied his determined profile in the half-light of the campfire. Perhaps there were more layers to his self-important attitude than she'd thought. After all, without him taking on the challenging role that awaited him in the city, Rolan and his siblings found themselves in much the same position as the other refugees milling about camp tonight. A heavy weight despite his obvious enthusiasm. Who was she to judge him, or any of them?

Rolan finally caught her watching him and cleared his throat. "Forgive me, I think I've—had too much wine."

"Oh?" She gave the bottle a swirl; it was still more than half-full. "You're making pretty good sense to me."

"I don't usually speak so freely with strangers," he explained tersely, glancing away.

She pondered the comment over another sip. "Does that make us friends, then?" She asked, not sure if she was being serious or trying to tease him. He did seem like he'd be awfully fun to tease.

"That's a little premature," he said dryly, but he glanced at her with a serious look. "Though I suppose, given recent events, you've earned it."

"A roundabout way to say yes," she laughed. "But I'll take it."

Rolan only made a low, grumpy noise in his throat. But he didn't challenge her.

“I’m really glad you three stayed, you know,” she told him. “I know you were against it. It certainly wasn’t the easy choice.”

Rolan plucked a bit of dry grass from between his boots, twisted it between his fingers. “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Once Lia gets an idea in her head to save some poor thing or other, there’s no arguing with her. And she knows I'd never leave her behind.”

"You say that, but anyone with eyes can see the way those two look to you for guidance. They would've followed you down either path."

"Not like us staying even made a difference," Rolan deflected, tossing the ball of grass onto the dirt in front of them. "We only lost a few more traveling days waiting around while you and your friends took care of everything. For which, I suppose, we owe you thanks," he finished sarcastically.

"I suppose," she said lightly. But she was looking straight at him.

Rolan was clever enough to realize he was being chastised. He let out a sigh, but dipped his horns to her in resignation. "Thank you."

She only smiled at him and offered back the wine in response. He accepted without comment.

Watching him tip back the bottle, she mentally fit another piece to his puzzle. "You don't like feeling powerless, do you?"

Rolan looked sideways at her. "Does anyone? Do you?"

"No," she replied, feeling a little foolish for asking. When he passed it back, she drank deeply from the bottle, grounded by the burn that traveled down her throat.

"That must make your situation difficult." Rolan was watching her almost cautiously, as if the subject should be carefully tread.

"The tadpole, you mean?" She spoke it aloud, not wanting him to feel any suspense about the subject. How the thought could fill her with dread and a kind of dark humor at the same time was beyond her. Maybe the worm in her brain was finally driving her mad after all.

"First I had to talk Nettie out of giving me a lobotomy. Then I thought the renowned First Druid Halsin might be able to heal me, but no luck. I even thought that crazy goblin priestess could have something up her sleeve." She gave a mirthless laugh, starting to feel the weariness closing around her again. "Suppose I just need to keep searching, right? Halsin thinks we might find answers in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Or maybe the cure is in Baldur's Gate. Who knows," she added, glancing over at him. "Maybe your Lorroakan could know the solution, if he's as powerful as you say."

"He is," Rolan answered automatically. His luminous eyes were sharp with enthusiasm as he watched her. "When you get to the city, come see me at Sorcerous Sundries. If a cure exists, it'll be recorded somewhere in the library of Ramazith’s Tower, I'm sure of it. I’ll even research it, if I have time."

Inwardly she hoped they'd all be cured far earlier than that. But she was touched by his sudden helpfulness, even if it was half to prove the powers of his new station. 

“Thank you, Rolan,” she smiled. “I appreciate it.”

He dipped his horns wordlessly toward her again. It was a gesture she was beginning to recognize, and grow rather fond of. She offered him their wine bottle in thanks.

From there they both let the moment drift. Seated on their log near the riverbank, she turned to watch how the rest of the revelry was progressing. Alfira had joined Volo in some kind of bardic duel; a rapid-fire melody drifted out to where the two of them sat. Lia appeared to be bravely trying her luck with Lae'zel. Judging by Lae'zel's very non-subtle body language, she was actually getting somewhere. 

And to her disbelief, she even saw Cal and Lakrissa sitting together at the fire, engaged in what looked like a very friendly, very close conversation. Was it seriously everyone's night but hers?

She glanced to Rolan's face at her side. He wasn't paying attention to her; his fingers rolled the neck of their shared drink idly back and forth.

It should've occurred to her sooner, honestly. Despite Rolan's initial bluster, she found it surprisingly easy to speak with him one-on-one like this. He had a depth she hadn't noticed before. 

And he wasn't bad to look at, either. Golden eyes set against inky black, strong jawline, lips that often curved up in a little smirk that she wasn't sure he deserved but found charming despite herself. She decided to dispense with caution and just try her luck.

"Would you mind if I kissed you?"

“What?” Rolan's head jerked around as he stared at her. "Why?"

"I don't know," she admitted. Maybe this was a bad idea; the shock on his face made her question her own boldness. But then she thought of his pretty spellwork. "Because you're the only person who's made me smile tonight."

Rolan examined her expression as though trying to tell whether she was joking. "We barely know each other," he said slowly.

She gestured her head toward the crowded clearing. "I mean, I didn’t know any of these people a few weeks ago. And now look at us. We’re practically family at this point.” She turned back toward him. "Besides, maybe I'd like to get to know you better?"

Rolan cast around for a response to that. "I suppose you're not…unattractive," he conceded. Although the nervous movement of his fingers gave him away a little.

"Know how to make a girl feel special, don't you," she laughed. "Look, Rolan, say no if you don't want to. I'm not after anything serious. It's just a good night for some company, and honestly, I’ve enjoyed talking to you."

Rolan was considering it; she could practically see his mind ticking between his options. "You're quite tenacious, aren't you?" He told her, the hint of a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

"When I want something," she agreed.

Something in the words seemed to tip his decision. She watched Rolan's eyes flick down to her lips.

Taking that as a yes, she tilted forward to press them against his. His skin was warm and softer than she expected. Rolan didn't move against her, in fact was practically frozen still. She couldn't tell whether he was inexperienced or just out of practice. Regardless, she pulled away to look at him through her lashes, checking his expression.

This close his golden eyes almost seemed to blaze. She watched them move over her face, taking in her features up close. When he realized she wasn't going to initiate again, Rolan leaned in for another kiss.

Definitely not inexperienced, she decided, as his lips slid and moved softly over hers. She breathed in and smelled smoke and wine and something spiced; a pleasant warmth coiled in her stomach. He sighed into the kiss, apparently feeling something similar.

She felt a tentative hand rest on the side of her waist. Without breaking from him, she scooted sideways to get a little closer, inadvertently pressing her leg up against his. Rolan made no objection, only circled his arm further around her back.

It was the nicest feeling. Being held by a firm yet gentle touch, sharing kisses that flowed from sweet to eager to shy and back again. How long had it been? The longer Rolan's mouth moved over hers, the less she cared about remembering. 

She hooked her arms over his shoulders to keep him close. As she tilted her chin for a better angle at his mouth, she took a chance and ran her tongue along his bottom lip. Rolan’s fingers dug slightly deeper into her side, but his lips parted to allow her in.

She felt a thrill run through her as their tongues melted together. They tasted each other softly for a moment; unconsciously, she combed her fingers up through the hair at his nape.

Rolan broke away gently at the feeling. She grew suddenly shy when their eyes met again, and she cast around for something to fill the silence.

"Why do you hide your ears behind your hair like that?” She wondered aloud. “They’re lovely." As she spoke, one of her index fingers went to tuck a lock of his hair back behind the long, pointed arrow of his ear, grazing against it with curiosity. Before she could blink, his hand caught hers to pull it away.

"Don't—" Rolan said abruptly, then let out a nervous laugh to break the tension. “Tiefling ears are…quite sensitive.”

"Oh," she said. His meaning sunk in the rest of the way. “Oh—I’m so sorry, I didn't realize—" The heat of embarrassment on her cheeks could have melted her.

"It’s all right,” he told her, laughing genuinely now. “Gods, your face is almost as red as mine.”

Rolan was even more handsome with a real, true smile on his face. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen one there before. Before she’d found a response, his grip on her wrist was gently pulling her arm over his shoulder, and her body closer to him with it. 

She decided another kiss would shut up his teasing nicely. She followed his lead and then some, wrapping both arms around his lovely shoulders, melting against his lips again. He said something against her, but the words dissolved into a hum that sent a pleasant shiver down her back.

Finally, Rolan succeeded in pulling away to glance back toward the center of camp. "Sorry," he said breathlessly, and it sounded like he truly was. "I just—don't want you to face uncomfortable questions in the morning."

No doubt his siblings' teasing was another factor, but she didn't call him out on it. While she appreciated his chivalry, all she could think about was getting his mouth under hers again.

"We could go to my tent?" She suggested.

For all the cockiness he'd spouted from the first moment she met him, she felt Rolan's hands almost seize up around her.

The feeling made her bite back a grin. "I'd just like to kiss you some more," she said, tracing her thumb against his jaw. "We don't have to do anything else. It would just be more private. And more comfortable."

Rolan licked his lips, unsure. “Won’t that be even more obvious?”

“I don’t think this crowd’s going to notice much at this point…” She turned with arms still around him to look over the scenes near the campfire, and Rolan's gaze followed. The generous flow of alcohol was taking a clear effect on most of the faces gathered here and there. Around the fire’s edge, Alfira was leading many of her fellows in a rousing ballad that she didn’t recognize. Most voices were noticeably off-key.

“Come on,” she invited Rolan, rising with one of his hands in hers. He made no protests as she led him around the edge of camp, trying to stay out of the more obvious sightlines, and towards her empty tent. When she held the flap open for him, he ducked in quickly without a word, and she followed.

Inside, the light from the roaring campfire filtered dimly through the fabric walls. She watched Rolan’s luminous eyes glance around, taking in her personal effects, finally landing on her open bedroll. He swallowed hard. 

“Just sit,” she told him, guiding him by the arm down beside her. They settled side-by-side on the blankets. Somehow the mood between them was back to the initial uncertainty of before, as if they hadn’t already shared a score of kisses.

“Your tent smells like you,” he said out of nowhere.

"Really?" She chuckled, but the observation somehow made her very nervous. “Not sure if I want to ask what my smell is.”

“Balsam.” Rolan didn’t elaborate, only dipped his head swiftly to place lips under her jaw. Her laughter dissolved into a sigh of pleasure. Clawed hands snaked up around her side and down over her shoulder, tipping her torso into him. She let her head loll to the side to give him all the access he could want.

She’d forgotten all about his sharp incisors. As he kissed down the side of her neck, his warm breath sending a cascade of shivers over her spine, one of his fangs grazed her bare skin by accident. Her sharp intake of breath surprised even herself. 

Rolan pulled away to look at her, uncertain if he’d done something right or wrong. She used the moment to capture him in a kiss again, sucking and nibbling on one side of his bottom lip, letting him know how right he was getting this.

She sank sideways into her bedroll, pulling him down with her with hands clasped behind his neck, trying to be mindful of his angling horns.

Rolan's arm rested comfortably over her side, nails whispering against her back as he held her. He was so gentle like this; so unlike the way he presented himself to others. The thought that she was seeing a side of Rolan most others didn’t get to see—she liked that thought very much. She tangled a hand in his hair as their kisses turned soft, and lovely, and almost lazy.

The security of his arms around her in her soft bedroll, the alcohol making its way rapidly to her brain, the exertions of the day straining along her limbs…she felt herself drifting toward a state of relaxation almost like sleep. She roused herself, wanting to kiss him back while she had him here. She wasn't sure when they'd get a chance like this next.

But Rolan gently disentangled their mouths for a moment. "Here," he said, scooting his arm under her neck like a pillow. She leaned against him with a comfortable sigh. 

"Your arm's gonna fall asleep," she warned him, making no moves to shift the weight of her heavy head.

Rolan chuckled low in his chest. "I think you'll be doing that first."

She wanted to make a snappy response, but all that came out was a petulant groan against his lips. 

This wasn't going at all the way she intended. She wasn't supposed to doze off, she was supposed to kiss the Tiefling wizard until he saw stars, like the ones he'd conjured for her.

Because he had conjured them for her—she told herself that with certainty, whether or not it was true. The sweet thought carried her toward sweet dreams, and the memory of them behind her eyelids was the last thing she saw before she drifted.

—

The call of an owl nearby pierced through her sleep. As her mind surfaced in the darkness, the first thing she was aware of was the pleasant weight of an arm across her. She sighed and settled comfortably back into the warm figure pressed up against her hips and shoulders. The mystery arm pulled her in tighter in response.

Things began slowly filtering back to her; the party the night before, and the wine, and Rolan, and—

Her eyes opened wide then. The interior of her tent was so dark that she could only make out blurry shapes. Outside, she heard nothing but crickets and a few more distant owls hooting; it must be well past midnight. The fire hadn't been tended for hours, judging by the absence of light reaching through the fabric walls. Presumably the rest of camp had all turned in long ago. 

With the nervousness of a person who'd fallen asleep from drink, she shifted around a bit to confirm that yes, she was very much still fully clothed. Her toes flexed against hard leather; even her dusty boots were still on her feet. That answered that question, at least. She glanced down at the clothed arm over her stomach.

"Rolan?" She whispered through the dark. 

She felt and heard his lips mumble something against her hair, and then Rolan's face nestled deep into the crook of her neck with a happy sigh. The intimate gesture made her bite her lip. She could feel his steady breaths tickle against her collarbone. 

However much she might want to let him stay right there, forever, she knew she should wake him.

"Rolan," she whispered a little louder. Twisting a bit to free the arm under her side, she reached to gently pat the spot between his horns. She felt his hair rustle freely under her hand; its orderly tie must have come undone in the night.

Rolan inhaled sharply awake then. He lifted his head from her as if trying to cast around for where he was.

"We both fell asleep," she whispered, stating the obvious. She felt him tense up behind her as he took in his body's positioning: chest pressed against her back, one arm cradling her neck, the other wrapped tight around her waist to keep her pulled in close to him. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she even felt his tail twined around one of her legs.

Every part of him retreated from her at once as he lurched into a half-seated position. "I'm sorry," he apologized in a groggy whisper.

"It's fine," she assured him, wondering why he would assume she didn't enjoy the closeness as much as he clearly had in his sleep. "I think everyone else is asleep by now."

There was a long, quiet pause. Then Rolan began, “Did we…?”

“No,” she interjected with certainty. 

"Thank Gods. I mean—" He cast around in the dark for one of her hands, realizing how that came out. "We both drank a lot, that's not how I want—it shouldn't be like that."

"I know." The sweet goodness of him made her heart swell.

Suddenly, Rolan grabbed his head with both hands. "Fuck," he hissed. "Lia and Cal."

"What about?"

"They'll know I didn't come back to our camp last night," he groaned low.

"Oh—okay," she said, trying to think; her brain was still fuzzy from the night's wine. "Well, maybe they'll just assume you got back late?"

“You don't understand, they know that I—” He cut himself off, and finished, “They already tease me about you.”

“Oh." She did her best to ignore the way that made her insides do a happy flip. But she couldn’t resist teasing a little herself. “Then maybe they’ll just assume you finally got lucky?”

His head fell against her shoulder with a groan, horns lightly knocking against her. “Please,” he begged.

“Sorry, Rolan—” She was instantly contrite, holding his head close to place kisses across his hair and forehead. "Listen, we've got an hour or two before dawn. Maybe you can sneak back and they won't know how late you were out. Where's your camp?"

"The bluffs just outside the Emerald Grove, with Lakrissa and the bard."

She knew the spot; they could easily reach there in a quarter hour on foot. But first, she scooted away and undid the flap of her tent to peer out for any signs of activity.

Everything outside was very still. She watched carefully for another moment just in case; near Wyll's tent, Scratch snuffled and buried his snout further against the owlbear cub's feathers. Beyond that, there were no signs of stirring in the camp.

She ducked back inside the tent for a moment. "C'mon—"

With quiet, shuffling feet, they crept out into the quiet moonlit night. Scratch's head raised silently in their direction. She stared into his dark eyes with a silent plea, begging him to be a good boy and stay quiet. He lowered his head back down without a sound. She swore to herself that she would find him the biggest, juiciest bone in the morning. 

She grabbed Rolan's hand behind her and tugged him quietly through camp. They passed tent after tent filled with steady breathing, boots padding against the dirt in near-silence.

Once they were outside the ruined wall at the edge of the campsite, she let out her pent-up breath in relief. 

Rolan kept his fingers twined firmly with hers as they walked through the moonlight. They talked about anything to fill the air, about things that didn't matter, both trying to stave off the impending end of their short night together.

Far sooner than felt fair, they rounded into a familiar clearing, and she knew his destination was just up the hill to their left. 

"Well," she began, as they slowed to a stop.

Before she knew it, she was pulled against Rolan’s chest in a tight embrace. She folded herself into him as completely as she could manage, breathing deep and committing his scent to memory.

When they broke apart, he kept her close so he could see her face in the moonlight. "Which route will you take to reach the Shadow lands?"

"Through the Underdark if we can," she answered. "I wasn't sure about it, but we all took a vote after the fight yesterday. What about you three?"

"I don't know," Rolan said honestly. "It depends how Zevlor decides. We're all going to travel together as far as we can."

"Oh," she said. She ought to say something reassuring about how that was a wise tactical choice, but she was overcome with the realization that she might not see Rolan again for many weeks. Possibly not until they both reached Baldur's Gate.

In that moment, she fervently regretted not fucking this wonderful man into tomorrow when she'd had the chance—wine be damned. From the way Rolan was looking at her, she wondered if he was thinking the same.

Instead, she leaned in to kiss him one last time with everything she had. She wanted to remember the way his shoulders fit perfectly under her arms. Rolan’s grip closed around her middle, and in the next instant she felt her feet dangle weightless as he lifted her off the ground into him.

The kiss had to end eventually. As he lowered her onto her feet, she touched back down to dirt and reality. 

“Your hair,” she gasped suddenly. It hung loose to his shoulders, his red ear tips poking from between the locks. It was a very handsome look for him.

Rolan raised a hand up in realization himself. “I’ll figure something—” he began, but she was already tugging at the leather lace that fastened her shirt. She raised it to her mouth to bite off a short length.

Before he could stop her, she stood on tiptoe to gather Rolan’s hair behind his head the way he usually kept it. Her arms circled him as she tied it halfway back with the makeshift string. She could feel his eyes on her face, but she steadily avoided meeting his gaze. She foolishly felt like she might cry if she did.

“There,” she sniffed as she pulled away. 

Rolan only gave her a gentle smile. “Thank you,” he said, dipping his horns to her one more time.

Telling him goodbye hurt just to think about. “Good night,” she whispered to him instead.

“It has been,” Rolan agreed. “The very, very best.”

[razzle-n-dazzle]

Excuse me, I hope you have a good day! If your requests are open I would like to request Blitzo with an enemies to lovers trope kind of with perhaps the reader being a concubus (gn succubus) with Verosika's posse, and the two have a competitive streak with each other. They both are supposed to be enemies (because they are loyal to Veroskia) but they don't realize how hard they are falling until they accidentally save Blitzo/IMP one time... Which turns into them saving them other times all by mere "coincidence" but it's really because they started looking out for him crushing hard and wanting to keep him safe. Even if they feel like they can never admit it because of Verosika. Happy ending or not, Blitzy requesting! <3

ᯓ★ "Lust, not Love . . . Love, not Lust?" Biltzo / concubus! Reader | Drabble Warning! - not proof read (we die like Adam), implied sex, hate-make out but not really hate-make out scenes, light gore, name calling

ᯓ How the fuck did you even manage to get here? Being pushed onto Blitzo's desk was the dusk of the night was settling through the drawn window. On either side of you laid his hands, pinning you in place as though he thought you would make some cheap shot and move away; Which, you were half tempted to do. Yet, instead, you would wrap your legs around his waist and draw the Imp closer, harshly cupping his cheeks so he could shove his tongue further down your mouth. Fuck, it felt so nice! Your eyes would flutter as you felt Blitzo groan, his clawed hands reaching up to squeeze and kneed your thighs needlingly. "You're fucking gross," He would groan, not even being able to wait until you both broke for a quick puff of air, causing you to snicker into the heated kiss. "Oh, shut it, you know you like it!" You would bite back, reaching to tug on one of Blitzo's horns. You knew it would rile him up; Verosika talked all the time about how Blitzo was a slut for his horns to be pulled, tugged, played with. And was it a sweet sound that escaped his mouth, a flustered gasp for air paired with a growl, making him all worked up and pretty. The glare he gave you sent shivers down your spine.

ᯓ And shit you kind of needed him too. Even if logically you know you should be pushing him off, running far away from the Imp out of loyalty to Verosika, there was something that just made you stay. Something that tickled your stomach and your heart all at once, that drove you insane, that had you crawling back to the pathetic Imp, Verosika's ex, on all fours.

ᯓ Gladly you never publicly did that, only in your mind . . . sometimes. And yet you could never tell anyone what happened here, that night under the cover of the shadows and in the arms of an Imp. That would be a secret you had to keep to the grave; Even if he did give you the best time you've had in a while.

ᯓ But how the hell did you even end up in the Imp's arms in the first place?

ᯓ Well, it started when Verosika had moved her headquarters to the same building that I.M.P. was in; gaining the same floor, stealing their parking spot, and well just being a bitch. You had a hunch she did all this in spite of Blitzo, hating his guts so much that she wanted to torture him after they broke up. Which, before you met or saw him, made you think he was some sort of sexy Imp who could turn anyone's heads. Then you saw him and was, well, disappointed. Verosika was getting her panties into a twist over some short Imp who couldn't even stand up to her at first. He had to send one of his workers in before he even stepped foot into the studio! To you, he was a waste of time. A nobody who got a shot with a popstar and blew it for not being able to love properly, or something like that.

ᯓ So, you no attention to him at first; why should you? He was someone who, when the competition was a complete, would be a no body to you! Just another bad decision from Verosika you would have to hear about every so often just because you worked for her . . . and sometimes it made you question whether or not you should have accepted that job offer from her.

ᯓ Your interest for Blitzo first began at that very competition, or demon duel, which you had little interest in yet participated in because 1) it was good way to gain more magic and fulfill your hunger and 2) Verosika told you to. Persuading humans to fuck you, along with the others, was easy enough to do, even easier when it's a bunch of horny teenager son spring break; A simple look and or a flirty wink and you had them hook and sinker. Even if it left you feeling dirty by the end of being banged by 3 different people in a row, not being given a chance to properly breath as Verosika seemed oh-so-determined to win that bet. You were a concubus, sure, but fucking people you didn't know wasn't exactly your style; Which was always pointed out as weird, but you gained more power by fucking someone you knew or wanted . . . desperately.

ᯓ So all this was doing was both wearing you out and making you feel like a whore, which in turn made you feel like absolute shit! Can't exactly fucking people if you're feeling yourself or your body. Which led you to wondering away from the crowd, shoving past the tangled mess of naked or half-naked bodies attempting to fuck into each other, to get some air away from the scent of sweat and sea water and booze. "Fuck me. . ." The mumble left your lips as you trailed along the beach, dragging your aching legs. Wanting nothing more than to go home and shower, maybe take some pain killers and go to sleep, never brought you closer to relief. It only lead to you sitting on a barrel under the bridge that was over the beach. And, you know, you weren't trying to attract attention. You really weren't. Yet, it seems like everything you wanted never went your way anyways, "Oh, look! I knew I smelled something fishy." Blitzo's voice drawled out, his words instantly as sharp and thrashing as his tail behind him. And if you hadn't just been fucked by three guys, two at once, you would have probably gave him the anger he wanted out of your reaction. Yet you couldn't, "Oh fuck off, Blitzo! Go bash someone's brains in and jack off, I know it's your kink." You could already feel the way his eyes narrowed at you, the hostility basically seeping out of his pores to drown everyone around him. "Can't exactly fucking do that when you're stinking up the whole place! Shouldn't you go be getting your holes filled, Whore?"

ᯓ People often say that first impressions are always the most important, but you choose to say different. While they can be important to judge people off of, you've heard too much about Blitzo before you even got to know him! So, you never did get a proper first impression. Instead you got the pleasure to know how long his dick was before you even got to know his face! Thanks, Verosika. And yet, even if that did technically count as your first impression, or first meeting, with Blitzo it didn't change much about your impression on him. At least, not in that moment. He was still the dick bag cunt ex of your boss and you had no intention of sticking around and talking to him. So, as he turned to talk to some hellhound that was by his side, you snuck off and walked down the opposite side of the beach. No need to stick around if he already ended the conversation on a sour 'Whore'.

ᯓ You know, you never really understood the concept of 'love' before Blitzo. That was something you realized when you had woken up after your fuck session on his desk after that . . . strange dream of the first time you spoke to him. You would groan as you shrugged yourself to sit up, feeling a weight on your chest that caused your eyes to drift down and meet with an all too familar jacket, and yet no Blitzo. It caused you to blink once more, maybe again for good measure before you rubbed your eyes just to make sure they were squeaky clean before taking in the sight below you. Oh fuck. . . I just fucked my boss's ex. Was the thought that ran through your head, panicked and crazed, as you quickly glanced around frantically. You had to make sure no one saw you and that you could still wear your clothes!- Fuuck. What were you going to tell Verosika? Hey, I slept with your ex sorry about that, didn't mean it, it was hate fucking, you know how it is! No, you couldn't!- Ugh, shit. The fact that you had been abandoned on Blitzo's desk, with no Blitzo in sight, hadn't even crossed your mind. Even as you raised your hands, drawing his jacket up to your face to hide in, hoping that some freak accident would happen and just kill you.

ᯓ That would, sadly, be better than facing Verosika's wrath.

ᯓ Love! Such a crazy concept and you defiantly shouldn't know it or even feel it! You were a concubus, you were a demon made out of the pure essence of Lust and Craving; You got your magic by fucking people, your body, hip curves and plush thighs were made to be admired and fucked. You were like a sex toy, you were a sex toy to most, and yet. . . there was this weird feeling that had began to fester in your chest. A feeling that grew the more of Blitzo's scent wafted into your nose.

ᯓ Shit, when had this even started? Was it that day on the beach? You doubted it. You felt nothing but tire and ire from talking to Blitzo while trying to hide from your duties. Was it the days after? No, you never got much of a chance to dwell on the thought of him nor did you get much of a chance to talk to him. So when did it start? No, not when you had noticed it, you remembered that day well enough, especially since you almost died trying to save that Imp and his team. But, when had the feeling started to festered in your chest, implanting it's way into your heart and igniting itself in a way you've never felt before? In a way that had started to make you crave him in a way you never experienced? Should you talk to Ozzie about this, you were relatively good friends, yet . . . would he even understand? You doubted it; He dealt with Lust, not Love. Love; shit! No, no, you can't name it Love even . . . even when it felt so right.

ᯓ Rescue day was as clear in your mind as though it had happened yesterday; It was around the time you had been watching I.M.P. for a good month or so, just 'curious' about what they were doing, where they where going, who they were going to go kill, and who they were doing it for. It was all in pure curiosity, you had reassured everyone else in the office, and yet you think you had just been lying to yourself; Trying to shove down the prodding and poking feeling, shove it deep, deep down until it couldn't be felt anymore. But what kind of bitch who isn't a psychopathic maniac in love with the thrill of dying would go to such lengths you had to save I.M.P. from uncertain doom?

ᯓ "What the fuck? How did you even manage to do this shit, fucktard!" You would yell, your body flushed with the flesh of your human disguise which made it so much more uncomfortable to run. Though you still hand onto Blitzo's wrist as he used his free hand to shoot back, trying to kill anyone who was daring to follow the group. "What-" Moxxiewould mumble, quickly jumping over a trash can that had been thrown carelessly on the sidewalk. He stumbled before regaining his footing, "Aren't you like- working for Verosika?! Shouldn't you be helping them get us, not . . . saving us? Is this even saving us? We're just running!" Though his confusion would fall onto death ears as Blitzo shot another bullet out of his gun, watching as it pierced through an officer's head and gushed out brains and guts on those behind him. You would shutter as Blitzo yelled, "I don't know, maybe someone," He would cough, obviously fibbed, "MOXXIE!" Again that fibbed cough, "shot the wrong target! And then the human police were called and they're on our ass because we KILLED SOMEONE, GENIUS! How else did you think we got here?" "Oh, I don't know, I thought you may have tried to FUCK a police officer!" You quipped back, "Oh, sorry, you fucking can't because you're scared of sexual relationships, my bad. I forgot!" "Oh please, you can't fucking forget because I know Verosika shit talks me to you every day! DON'T BE FUCKING PLAYING THE INNOCENT CARE ON ME." Blitzo would shoot back, not noticing as Moxxie had tripped over his own foot and almost fell; Though thankfully Millie had been there to catch him, lifting him up into her own arms so they could keep pace with the others. Loona, who was tired of having to hear the gunshots and the bickering betewen Blitzo and you, snapped; "Can we stop hate flirting for a second and fucking get out of here before one of us get shot?!"

ᯓ "WE'RE NOT HATE FLIRTING."

ᯓ "Yeah, because it's so much more convincing when you both say it at the same FUCKING time." Sarcasm dripped out of Loona's tongue as she slung her bag over her shoulders, bringing it in front of her. She began to rustle around for something as you feel a sudden coldness in your hand; Blitzo had drew his own wrist away from your touch. Cold, that's all you felt; and it stung sharp and harsh. Pitiless.

ᯓ You really had to stick out your neck for someone like that? Someone who now left you up and dry on his desk after 'hate-fucking' you? Why would you ever fuck someone as pathetic as that, had desperate had you been? . . . Had you even been desperate? You couldn't remember feeling desperate, like you usually forced yourself to feel when you fuck someone for power, or a purpose other than the alternative which isn't important. It couldn't be important when you were clearly the only one who felt the same and Blitzo just wanted some- "Oh good, you're awake." The sound of the door opening and closing jolted you from your thoughts, causing you to scurry and cover yourself. "I thought I was about to have to drag your ass to sleep on my couch, and that would have been a whole 'nother fucking problem." Blitzo would mumble, coming up behind you. You felt him linger, you wondered if he wanted to do something yet was too scared to do so; Which, you guessed was true because he walked around the desk without doing anything and sat down on his chair, sat down in front of you. Which was weird. This was all weird, you didn't know how to react seeing Blitzo, who was dressed, sitting in front of you drinking his coffee like you weren't literally butt ass naked on his desk. "What?" Blitzo muttered, noticing your staring. You would simply point at him and then the desk, trying to formulate the words that didn't want to stick together: "Are . . . we going to fucking pretend that you didn't just fuck me on your desk last night?"

ᯓ "Do you want me to pretend like I didn't just fuck you on my desk last night?" The question lingered in the air, bringing with it silence. Your eyes were kept on Blitzo's before they faltered away, looking down at the ground. Did you want him to pretend that he wasn't grunting and groaning your name last night, that you hadn't been clawing at his back and screaming his?

ᯓ Was that really what you wanted?

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[blackphanto]

Trying to overanalyze Lucifer's design

The Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale was fucking insane. I loved everything and especially Lucifer, whom I am dedicating this post to.

Let's begin with his "normal" form

Lucifer wears a ringleader costume bc Hell is one giant circus and he's the ringleader, but did you know that there's actually more to it?

A ringmaster, -mistress or -leader is like the opening act of a circus. They show you around, introduce the other acts and keep you hooked. They are essentially the glue that keeps the circus together. Another definition of a ringmaster, -mistress or -leader talks about an actual leader who leads a group of people, mostly through the act of doing illicit or unlawful activities. A role that would suit Lilith better than Lucifer. Sins could be seen as unlawful activities in Heaven's eyes and Lucifer is the cause of how evil found its way to earth, one could say that he was the one to lead the sinners in their sinful behavior in life. Yet, in death - if we go by Charlie's storybook - Lilith was the one leading the sinners to rise up against Heaven, another illicit activity that has led to their eventual doom.

Luci also wears a top hat with his crown on top of it. The hat gives him some extra height so I doubt that he wears it for any other reason. His crown is mostly covered with a snake and a red apple on the side. The snake can have 2 meanings: 1) how the word 'seraphim' in Hebrew can be translated to 'fiery serpent', due to his six wings, Lucifer is likely a seraph. 2) he was the serpent that tempted Eve, although never confirmed in any religious text, this idea of him being that snake is really popular in every reiteration of that story. This would also be why there's an apple motive following the Morningstars. Now let's move on to...

Angelic/demonic form

I don't think what we are seeing here is his full angelic/demonic form, but considering that the other Princes' forms aren't as scary either it is likely the case. The first thing that caught my attention were the horns and overall resemblance this form has to Charlie's, but let's focus on the differences.

In the first image, the snake and apple have turned into some sort of halo, a nod that his actual halo has disappeared when he fell and unlike Vaggie his wings probably didn't get ripped off, but I do believe they were different to how they were when he was behind the Pearly Gates. He has a tail and horns, classic demon imagery, there are 6 eyes at the end of his coat and there's one more on his bowtie, which makes a total of 8 eyes on Lucifer's design. The eyes are a common returning motive in Heaven and with angels.Luci also has a flame in-between his horns. This honestly reminded me of Baphomet, but they would likely be a Candle head from the Sloth ring. In the Bible, fire is often depicted as the presence of God, but I'm a firm believer that Hazbin has a deistic God view (see my other post), so I doubt that's the case here. The fire was likely chosen because Hell is associated with fire and he's the king of Hell so they thought it would make sense.

Like father, like daughter

As stated before, Lucifer and Charlie share a lot of similar elements. She's essentially him without wings and with longer hair. They both have a red sclera with a yellow iris. Their tail is pitch black with a heart cut out at the end and despite having white skin, Lucifer's arms are greyish. I always thought they were gloves, but no, man's face doesn't match his hands. I really like this shot of them right here, they look so badass!

Charlie also seems to be getting a new ability which has to do with her arm getting bigger and blocking Adam. This might be a callback to whatever was going on with her arm in her first design.

That was it thanks for reading <3

[fandxmslxt69]

One and Only

Prince!Loki x f!asgardian noble!reader

Warnings: um none. maybe a few grammar errors or weird sentences, some suggestive content (mentions of sex like once) Reader is mentioned to be wearing a green silky dress, and Loki is sort of wearing his suit adjacent to the one in Avengers + His horns.

A/N: Dearest lovely @fictive-sl0th - first of all, thank you for organising this amazingly fun Secret Santa event for us- it's been so much fun and I'm happy that it's my first event on Tumblr! Secondly, I truly hope you enjoy this little thing Camille- your prompt was so much fun and I hope I did it justice!

Synopsis: Loki is forced to find a bride, and things take a turn when a familiar face shows up.

Prompt: King Odin wants Loki to marry so he orders him to pick a bride during the annual yule ball. (He’s not amused haha) But things take a spicy turn when you show up and turn out to be a coveted noblewoman instead of the tempting, mysterious villager you pretended to be during all your earlier accidental encounters. In the end Odin gets what he wants ;)

Word count: 2.7k

“It’s time to do something useful. You will find a bride as soon as possible, Loki. With my heir off playing dress up on Midgard, I have none but you to wed off,”“Now, I’m sure Thor will come back with a nice bride-” 

“Asgard will NOT have a mortal woman as its first bride. Not now, not ever. It’s decided. This year’s Yule ball will be to find you a bride. Only Asgard’s finest, most eligible women will be up for a chance at marriage with you,” 

Loki grumbled to himself as the maids fussed over him. This was useless. Loki had no desire for marriage for another few centuries. His mood went from poor to sour to downright depressed and cynical as the days counted down to Yule. He thought perhaps someone would talk some sense into Odin, and yet there was a sinking feeling in his stomach after Odin declared his choice that told him he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. 

One of the maids tucked too hard on his cape, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Watch it,” he snapped. The maid muttered a quick apology, but before he could get another word in, there was a knock at the door before Frigga stepped in. 

Loki felt himself relax as she walked into his room, taking her time to look him over as she walked closer. “I’ll take it from here,” She addressed the women softly. They nodded and hurried out the door, but Loki couldn’t help letting out a groan while watching them hurry out. “I’ve scared them out of their minds,” “Now now,” Frigga stood beside him as she smiled at him in the mirror. “I’m sure Ingrid understands the stress you’re under,” Loki grumbled again under his breath. “I will find her later, to apologise,” Frigga hummed as she fussed at his clothes. He was wearing his finest Asgardian leather, the colours of the armour were a deep green and a rustic black only leather could give off. Frigga had ensured the suit stayed in the best conditions, even going as far as ordering the gold arm plates remade to be in perfect condition. He looked like the perfect image of the Asgardian prince. Regal and poise, and impeccable fashion taste. Even his head piece was polished thoroughly, and it lay on his bed, waiting for him to pick it up and wear it. His signature horns. His signature dress. 

He’s just missing that signature Loki grin. But he had no intention of giving anyone that smile. It was already someone’s. He had no desire to share it with another. 

“What are you thinking about?” Frigga had stopped fussing over him and stood behind him, watching him intently through the mirror.

“Nothing,” He lied quickly. 

“Nothing?” He nodded. “Exactly. Nothing,” She hummed, turning around to grab his horns from the bed. “Very well. I do hope we get to see that girl you’ve been sneaking off to see. Perhaps she will be a good fit,” He nodded, the words not registering until a few seconds later. His eyes widened, and he spun around to look at her. “What? What girl?” He closed the distance between him and his mother, grabbing his horns from her. “There is no girl. There’s never been a girl. What are you talking about?” 

Frigga raises her eyebrows. “Right…”

He nodded, carefully placing the horns on his head. There is no girl. Not anymore. 

She won’t even be there, so what’s the point?

“I don’t think there is anyone for me,” The words fell out of his lips before he could stop them.

Frigga’s eyes softened. “My dear boy, if I can see everything you hold, I know someone out there can too,”

Yes, he thought. She can, but what about everyone else? Odin? What did he think? The thoughts only soured his mood even more. “Perhaps we should go now,” He said curtly, holding his arm out for his mother. Frigga smiled softly, an edge of sadness in her eyes. 

“Very well,” She said, hooking her arm around his as they left his room.

*                                                               *                                                               *

Asgard’s usually plain ballroom had transformed itself to fit the spirit of Yule. Decked in only the most lavish of decorations, the ballroom glittered and sparkled as people settled in, women dressed in their finest robes and men in only their best attire. Loki stood by his mother and Thor as Odin drilled on, giving thanks to those who came, and promising a dance to every woman from Loki before he was to pick his bride. With every word he spoke, Loki felt a shiver run down his neck. He had no desire to be here, but this was not the first time he had been forced to forget about his own feelings and opinions, so he knew how to power through the night. 

You stood in your own corner with your mother, who made comments at everyone she could get her hands on. You only rolled your eyes or muttered a word in conversation, your mind too preoccupied. You had no idea how to feel about coming. At first, you had no desire to go. Why, all of a sudden, was Loki wanting to get married? Had he not told you, mere days ago, that he had no intention to run his life? It’s silly, it’s not like you were in love with him (maybe a little) or betrothed to him, but it still felt like a small dagger to your heart. Then, you thought perhaps he had a change of heart. Or perhaps it was his mother’s idea. Perhaps you even had a chance. He knew you, at least. He flirted with you, outside of this castle at least. And then you remembered that he only actually knew you as the girl he ran into at the village. And suddenly, bile rose up your mouth and you threw your invitation out. 

But naturally, your mother wasted no chances to shove you with any respectable man, and a prince is as respectable as they come- and there was nothing in the Nine Realms that could have stopped her from going to the Yule Ball. So here you found yourself, in your finest green silks (unintentional) and the best pieces of your gold as your mother fussed over every piece of hair out of place. 

You watched Loki from your corner as he danced with the first few women. He had a polite smile on his hands, and a few times you heard him laugh at something one of them would say, and your gut twisted and your lunch made its way up your throat. The laughs brought you back to your own secret encounters with him, nights you spent wandering the village and exchanging stories. You remembered the first time you made him laugh so freely, and it unlocked a new desire in you- to make him laugh for eternity. 

Perhaps that was a little too obsessive at the time. But you couldn’t blame it on yourself. Loki was the kind of man who wormed his way into the heart and nested there forever. Once he was in, there was no way to flush him out of your system. Certainly not after knowing what lay beneath his clothes and his….various talents. A blush crept up your neck just at the thought of those sensual nights with him- frantic, urgent and allconsuming. 

When he laughed with his new partner, something hard set in your gut. Maybe you didn’t have the best chance at winning this, but Norns, you were going to make sure he knew those laughs were yours first. 

You handed your glass to your mother, ensuring that your dress was in its best condition, and  fixed the draped piece of fabric over your shoulders. You could feel all eyes on you as you walked as elegantly as you could to Loki as the song ended. “Your Highness,” You interrupted politely, and the woman shot you a dirty look. “Am I have your next dance?” Loki began to say something before he fell silent, his eyes widening a fraction as they took in your face, and then trailing down your body. He made a noise at the back of his throat as he reached for your hand, motioning with the other for the songs to recommence. “Of course,” He said, although it sounded strained.

You smiled, stepping closer as he pulled you up against him, your bodies moving in sync to the music, your name fell from his lips in a stunned whisper. 

“What are you doing here? Did you sneak in?” Loki asked in disbelief. 

You laughed quietly. “No, Your Highness, I got my invitation like everyone else here,” He frowned, that pretty sculpted face of his scrunching up. “What? But…I thought- you’re just-” “A simple village girl?” You finished for him.

He paused, then looked almost offended. “Darling, simple is an offensive word to use to describe yourself. Nothing about you is ‘simple’,” Your heart skipped a beat, and those butterflies erupted in your stomach again. “Thank you, Your Highness,” “Oh quit that,” He said as he spun you around. “You say it like you don’t know me,” 

“Perhaps I don’t,” You replied.

“You know me better than all the others in this room,” He leaned in, smiling softly. “How in the Nine Realms did you get here, darling?” You bit your lip, trying to fight back the stupid smile from spreading across your face. “I told you, I got my invitation. I came here with my mother,” He hummed. “So, you are not a villager,” He frowned slightly at his own stupidity. How had he not asked before- in all your recent encounters? Perhaps the mystery that came with you was too addictive- the ability to leave behind all masks and remain bare to a complete stranger was…a safe haven, he supposed. You did know more about him than anyone else attending tonight. Secrets he’d never shared. Jokes he never told. Books he had no one to talk with. No one but you. You held so much of him, and he thought he held so much of you- but how much of it was real? You giggled. “No, I am not,” “Hm. Cheeky. It seems I have been fooled,” “Not…fooled. Simply….misguided. An inaccurate conclusion. I assure you though, I had no intentions of deception. I stand true to every other word I said,” You added, as if you could read his face, as if you could hear the worries and doubts in his mind. “But you never said you were noble,” You shrugged. “And you never asked,” A smile tugged at his lips, an odd sense of comfort settling in him. You were still…you. “No…I suppose I never did,” He leaned in then, dropping his voice to a whisper, “You look ravishing tonight, though. How have I never seen you in such a fine colour?” 

You blushed really then, looking up to meet his piercing eyes. “You look quite good in that colour yourself, Loki,” 

He chuckled, offering no other reply as you continued to dance. Soon, the song ended, and you stepped back from each other. Before you could turn to leave and potentially cry and laugh your heart out, he took your hand and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on it. He looked back up at you, and Norns, how gorgeous he really looked- all smirks and piercing eyes and those horns. “I hope to have another dance soon, my lady,” You nodded quickly, your mind short circuiting as another woman came up to ask for his next dance. You stepped back, before speed walking back to your spot by your mother. Of course, she shot a billion questions an hour, but you only ignored her, eyes focused on the man dancing at the centre of the room, glowing brighter than even the sun. 

Time passed, and you had no idea how many dances Loki went through before other pairs began to join. You danced with a few, but really your mind kept wandering back to Loki. 

When was he going to ask you that second dance? Was he really going to? 

Maybe he had somehow telepathically heard you, because just as you finished your dance with a nice gentleman, Loki stood from his seat at the front- having taken a break from dancing- and made his way back to the dance floor. 

The entire ballroom held its breath, and you stupidly turned around as if to make conversation with the person closest to you, or even run. Before you even had the chance to utter a sentence to a poor woman whose face looks pale with fear, your name rang loudly throughout the ballroom, coming from none other than the most handsome prince you had even laid eyes on. You turned around slowly, face tilted up to meet his eyes. “Your Highness?” He held out his hand, a smile tugging at his lips. “May I have another dance?” Everything felt deathly still as Loki led you back to the centre of the floor, and the music started again. You danced and you twirled across the floor, hand in hand with Loki as he grinned widely at you. He didn’t grin like that at anyone tonight. Maybe you were reading into the situation too much, but your heart melted just from his smile and the way his eyes held such pure joy as you danced through not one, but two, but three songs. By the end, you were breathless, partly from dancing, but partly from his fixing gaze and the overwhelming urge to kiss him. Even after all the times you’ve met, you were always consumed with the need to kiss him, to touch him, to run your hands through his hair and trace every line of his body. He was addictive, and while you had always thought love took its time to settle in, some part of you always knew that Loki might just be it. 

You were nearly drowning in the colour of his eyes, and that soft, bright smile he wore for you. Your face hurt from how hard you were smiling at him, and you were so close- just a little higher and your lips could connect with his. It was almost trance like, how soft his lips looked were hypnotic, and the way he eyed yours with a desperate need only encouraged you. You leaned up, he leaned down a little, arm wrapped around your body, lips almost touching and-

“Ahem,” Odin stood from his throne, and you felt the spell shatter. Damnit. 

“I believe,” Odin paused, his eye landing on you and Loki, who jumped apart from one another like you were set on flames. Your cheeks were flushed, avoiding the eyes of everyone, and Loki stared right ahead at Thor, who you noticed was smiling widely and making incredibly disturbing faces at his brother. “Prince Loki has found a bride,” 

Loki’s eyes flickered to you, his mouth opening to argue with Odin. Probably to argue- to say that he hadn’t even asked for your opinion, to add that marriage takes time, or should be considered and debated. 

Maybe you were foolish, or a little too desperate, or maybe it was the magic of Yule that possessed you, but you simply smiled and gave a little bow to Loki. 

“You-,” He swallowed, looking around nervously. “You would accept? If I asked you to be my wife?” 

You smiled widely. “Would you wish for me to be your wife?” A pause, then a small nod. “I don’t think there is anyone else I’d like to share my jokes with,” Your heart was pretty much exploding in your chest. Your hands were definitely shaking, and you thought you might just pass out right then. “Well, lucky you, because I only want your jokes, and I only want your smiles and your laughs to be mine. I…I would be honoured, to be your wife, and to call you my husband, Loki,” 

Sounds of cheer echoed around you, and Loki’s face broke out into the widest grin you had ever seen as he looked at you like he had just handed him the world. “I had no idea you were obsessed with me,” He said, though you could barely hear his words over the sound of festivals. 

“Maybe a little,” You replied, and his grin only widened. 

“Well, I’m obsessed with you a lot,” He tugged you closer to him, sealing your lips in a kiss.

Tags: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

[ashleyfableblack]

Queen Chrysalis Sparkle smiled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She had been curled up in their marriage bed, waiting and wondering where her wife was for the last hour or so. Coming out from their bedchambers to Twilight's Relaxation Study, she had found her answer.

The Royal Family of New Canterlot had been gifted a new reclining chair from the visiting Diamond Dog delegates earlier that afternoon. The Double-Puffy Dapper-Deluxe Mk3. Twilight had been giving the chair a good breaking-in while reading a bedtime story to their newest clutch of little larvae, herself battling the tempting pull of sleep after a long day of courting their visiting potential allies. After discovering the lever on the side, it appeared that the battle was lost. She sighed. The chittering purrs of their tiny offspring, curled and tucked into her wife's body was just too perfect to disturb. The drool trailing from Twilight's sagging jaw was just a bonus. "And thus, the great nation of New Equestria is defeated, not by blade or bow, but by Bark-a-lounger...." Chrysalis chuckled. Scooping up a blanket in her magic, she gently draped it across her wife's snoring body. She gave a kiss to the lavender mare's horn and a gentle nuzzle to her cheek. "Rest well, little lilac." she purred. Humming a quiet tune, she left the serenity of the moment and sauntered back to their bedroom.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Once Upon a Time 10

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A message pops up on your Instagram. You open it with dread, a blank profile with some generic photo of a bookshelf. You already know it's him. 

‘Your aunt is very nice.’ 

You nearly drop your phone as you glance over at Jo. She sits with a cross stitch as she watches a rerun of Cold Case. You shudder and look back down at the screen. 

‘Why r u doing this?’ 

You hit the arrow as your sweaty hands stick to the silicon case. 

‘Why am I being nice?’ He replies. 

You can't. You stand up with your phone and your Aunt Jo peeks over with an arched brow. You give an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, I'll be right back.” 

You cross the room and pass the kitchen doorway. You lock yourself in the bathroom and look at your phone. You see three dots then they disappear. 

‘You followed me.’ 

He sends a rolling eye emoji. You nearly scream. What the hell? He's rolling his eyes at what? Stalking you? 

‘More than once.’ 

He sends a laughing emoji with tears. You huff. He's so confusing. Then a photo pops up, buffering before finally loading. 

It's Chelsea, well, the top of her head and she's… 

You want to puke. You can't believe he'd send you that. Does she know he took that? Even if she's a bitch, you feel bad. 

‘Looks like I'm all taken care of.’ He texts. 

‘Looks like you are.’ 

You turn your phone to do not disturb and lock it. He's disgusting. You don't even get what he wants from you. If he has Chelsea doing all that, why the heck is he texting you? 

You take your phone to the spare room, what was once your room, and leave it there. You don’t want to be bothered by him, even if you can’t shake the uneasiness stirring your nerves. You go back to the living room and sit down on the couch. You stare unseeingly at the television as the syndicated legal series drones on. 

“What was that, honey?” Jo asks, poking her needle up then pulling it through. 

“Work,” you lie, “um, they keep moving around the schedule or whatever. It’s... frustrating.” 

“Ah, that’s too bad,” she tug the thread to its limit, “you’re stressed. Maybe you should take a day off.” 

“Maybe,” you rub your forehead, “or get a different job.” 

“Could do,” she shrugs, “you know I’ll support whatever you do.” 

“Yeah,” you drop your hands into your lap and look at her, “I know.” 

You turn back to screen and try to hide your despair. Should you try to tell her about Andy? The thought’s crossed your mind a dozen times over. Your Aunt Jo is fierce and loving, she might just believe you but it’s not her holding you back. It’s him. He’s dangerous and he hasn’t yet shown you how dangerous. 

It’s better she doesn’t know. Not right now. You’ll have to deal with Andy. Just not tonight. 

📖

You grumble around the last mouthful of coffee. Another day, another shift. While Jo’s suggestion was tempting, you really can’t give up the hours. Nonetheless, you haven’t sat on your hands. Several applications were forward late into the night as sleep eluded you. Now you can barely hold your head up. 

It shouldn’t be very busy at opening. You can survive on an instant coffee packet from the breakroom. You yawn and grab your coat and bag. The snow puffs up around your boots as you step outside, shivering as you tuck your scarf into the top of your jacket. You pull your hood up against the frigid wind and tamp down the fresh powder as you come down the walk. 

As you get to the sidewalk, you stop and look both ways. Before you can cross and head for the bus stop, a horn honks, jarring you. You step back as a familiar car rolls up. You cross your arms, heart racing, and peek back over your shoulder at the safe hold of your aunt’s house. 

“Buses are behind,” Andy calls through the window as it slides down, “you’ll be late...” 

“I’m fine,” you sidestep to walk around the rear bumper and he shifts into reverse, blocking your escape. 

“I know your aunt didn’t teach you to be so ungrateful--” 

“Don’t talk about my aunt,” you snap as you turn back the other way and he rolls forward. You stop short and stomp your foot, “why are you doing this? Why are you bugging me? Chelsea--” 

“I don’t want Chelsea, she’s a slut. She’s easy. She gets the job done,” he sneers. 

You shake your head and blow out a cloud of warmth into the crisp air, “I’m sure there are other--” 

“You,” he says tersely, “that’s it. No one else.” 

You close your eyes and shudder, “I... I’m not interested... like that, Andy. I just was being friendly because it’s my job. Can’t you understand?” 

“I don’t understand,” he snarls, “I’m a lawyer, I’m good-looking, I take good care of myself and I could do the same for you. You wouldn’t have to work in some shitty bookstore.” 

You flutter your lashes and shake your head, “I...” 

“What? Why don’t you want me?” He leans over the seat further, glaring at you. 

“How old are you?” You blurt out, immediately sealing your lips in regret. 

He scoffs, “and how old are you? Bit over the hill to be in retail, huh? I know you’re not some college kid getting a few extra bucks. You’re a grown woman, your life is a mess. You need someone like me.” 

You huff, “I need you to leave me alone.” 

He clucks and sits up. The car idles in front of you as he sits silently. He grips the real and clears his throat, “I’ll be seeing you for dinner. Aunt Jo sure is sweet, maybe you could learn a thing or two from her.” 

The window rolls up before you can spit back a retort. The mention of your aunt flares in your chest. How dare he. You know it’s more than a snipe at you, he’s not saying her name for nothing. It’s a threat. 

He steers away down the snowy road, the snow packing beneath the weight of the car. You watch his headlights stop at the corner before you kick through the snow. Fuck.