#this makes no fucking sense to anyone but me and i am proud

[muffinrecord]

I think I like Natsuki's witch the most. Like you know what

This is a whole fuckin mood right here. Sometimes yeah I feel like this. I wanna scream with four mouths and also some cheerleading pompoms. Like FUCK YOU YEAAAAH RAAAAAAAH *aggressively waves hands in the air*

But also

who hasn't felt like this before. Just. Legs straight out.

This is what you do when someone says something to you like "do you want to hear about my religion" and you have to be kind of polite to them so you just plaster a neutral expression on your face and let them do their thing. like yes im physically here and my legs exist i guess but you bet your ass that while i look like this on the outside, on the inside,

[chazz-is-a-zelda-fan]

can’t post this on insta considering a good chunk of my irls follow me there and they wouldn’t get this but i’ve been doing a lot better this week about keeping up with myself, i think

[princekirijo]

Finally getting round to reading the Scarlet Pimpernel (free eBooks my beloved) and while I am really enjoying the story and everything is pretty easy to follow, the sheer royalist tones the book has is a lot

[karlachian]

baldur's gate 3 wyll ravengard grand duke coronation tumblr simulator

🩸 bloodlover

he said WHAT about me

🦴 jonfromshop

i love <3 that we are livign in this day and age of baldurian politics. this is fucking awesome

2,235 notes

🪼 slenderweaver

TWENTY. FOUR.

#AND WHAT WAS I DOING AT TWENTY FOUR. FUCKALL!!!!!

6 notes

🪡 tailormadewares Follow

now why is the coronation happening in the middle of the night. some of us have jobs!

🐦‍⬛ ulderravengard Follow

the new duke consort is kind of like an evil stepmother but for the city

🦴 jonfromshop

AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE READING OUT THE GREAT LAWS RIGHT NOW LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO

4,458 notes

🌊 tavalina

very extremely proud of one of my best friends in the whole world wyll ravengard. can't make it to the coronation because of the whole bein g stuck in hell with my wife thing can a sweet mutual please. keep me updated.

🐺 simfolicity Follow

duke consort astarion lastname has clearly micromanaged the whole thing and ulder ravengard and him might be trying to kill each other during the ceremony. wyll is just happy to be there i think

🌊 tavalina

oh okay so business as usual

🏹 highharper

business as usual

49 notes

💋 bladethatthang

why is NO ONE talking about the geopolitical ramifications of the future grand duke being engaged to marry a CLEARLY evil looking mean cunt of an elf. not to MENTION the problematic age gap.

🩸 bloodlover

mad because he's fucking me and not you????????

💋 bladethatthang

i genuinely wish we all had died with the elder brain

🪡 tailormadewares Follow

HERITAGE POST

#bringing this back for coronation day

38,493 notes

🪼 slenderweaver

i;m sorry. wyll ravengard is TWENTY FOUR YEARS OLD? HE SHOULD'VE BEEN AT THE ELFSONG

🛎️ i-live-in-the-dumbwaiter

quite famously he was at the elfsong. like i understand where you're coming from but that was a whole thing. he was very polite about ordering food at 3 in the morrow in the sense that he didn't. do that.

🪼 slenderweaver

oh so now we are fucking doing elfsong pedantics about the TWENTY FOUR YEAR OLD RUNNING OUR CITY.

348 notes

📦 zhentingthatrim Follow

this is so fucking stupid i WANTED to do a coup a mutiny an overthrowing even today during the coronation but no one wants to fucking do revolution anymore. you say can we PLEASE try and kill the new grand duke for trade opportunities and freedom of will. and then they will say well why would i want to do that. wyll ravengard is soooooooooo handsome and sweet and nice. trying to kill him would be RUDE. WE USED TO BE A FUCKING CITY.

🩸 bloodlover

bunk 42, flaming fist barracks, basilisk gate

📦 zhentingthatrim Follow

AYO?????

🔥 florricking Follow

open the door

8,376 notes

✨ princessofhousenightstar

do your required reading you little wretches and understand that i am here fundamentally to talk about wyll where he can't see it. i love the man but sometimes i like to keep things to myself. anyways doesn't he look sooooooo dashing in his coronation outfittttttttt 🥰 i made ittttttt

🪼 slenderweaver

does anyone remember when this was an embroidery blog

🏹 highharper

you are a strange strange little man astarion

#HOW has he not found this blog yet is the question i think

16 notes

🩸 bloodlover

i want ulder ravengard dead

🗡️ bladeoffrontiers

:(

🩸 bloodlover

i want ulder ravengard mildly inconvenienced

🐦‍⬛ ulderravengard Follow

we are literally tumblr mutuals. for your evil and nefarious purposes no doubt.

🪡 tailormadewares Follow

we're all going to fucking die

6,459 notes

🦴 jonfromshop

wh

the grand duke isn't an option because he always sweeps.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Deer's Prince(ss)

Male Deertaur Yandere x Feminized Male Wolf Hybrid Reader (CW: Noncon, feminization, misgendering, inhuman genitalia, breeding, fingering, overstimulation, reader fucked out of their mind, chasing, kidnapping, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.1k

You were sprinting through the forest, running from the prince who owned you.

Under normal circumstances, you would have been able to move a lot more stealthily and gracefully, but continued captivity had dulled your senses and abilities.

When the kingdom of the deertaurs finally won the decades long war against the wolf folk they demanded many things in the treaty to end the war.

One of the things they demanded was a princess to marry their son, marriage was a typical way to seal an agreement of peace.

But there was no princess, instead they took you. And Prince Inthil had made you into his princess. Treating you like a dainty flower instead of the proud wolf hybrid that you were! Going so far as to even dress you in frilly dresses and address as a girl… and bed you as one too…

Having had as much as you could handle you fled. You tore off the female clothing and ran naked into the woods. Treaty be damned, you didn’t deserve this!

But being pampered as a fragile little lady had made your footfalls heavy and clumsy, it may have been enough to outrun a human, but certainly not Prince Inthil. His deceptively lean body was fast and powerful, four legs carrying him like he was the wind itself.

Suddenly you felt a sharp yank on your arm. You shuddered as Inthil pulled you close, you had thought you were still a bit ahead of the deer man.

His creepy grin looked even more sinister under the light of the moon, his long blond hair softly glowing, and his eyes looking at you with twisted adoration and amusement.

If you had only been looking at his face you may have mistaken him for a beautiful woman. But his muscles, body hair on his human half, and antlers on his head proved otherwise.

“Hello my lady~ You mustn’t run off like that, it is far too dangerous for a little girly to be running around in the woods at night by herself! If you wanted a moonlit stroll, I would have accompanied you~”

You tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he was powerful. He lifted you up and pressed you against a tree.

“If my father knew my wife ran off like that it could start a war! Don’t worry princess, I won’t tell. After all, I am sure it just slipped your mind to ask me to come with you, RIGHT?!”

As he said that last word he roughly pulled you forward then slammed you back against the rough bark. It did not hurt much, but you gasped in surprised.

Prince Inthil took this opportunity and kissed you deeply. Hungrily. His tongue swirling around yours as it invaded your mouth.

You shivered. He finally broke the kiss, leaving you both panting for oxygen.

“Are you cold? You’re shaking so much. I know what will warm you up.”

He stroked your cheek tenderly, but you knew what that look and tone of voice meant.

You growled, baring your teeth as your tail bristled and your ears moved back, almost flat, against your head.

“Awe, I bet a nice breeding will help your sour mood too…”

There were no clothes for him to pull off of you this time. He laid you down on the cool forest floor. You started to move but he stomped a hoof on you with enough force for you to get the memo.

You did what was expected of you. Keeping your face down you arched your ass up.

“My bitch must be in heat to present her pussy so nicely for me~” He cooed in his sickeningly sweet voice.

You were sniffing as tears rolled down your face uncontrollably. You were a man and you didn’t want this, what had you ever done to anyone to deserve being forced to be a girl and raped constantly.

“Don’t cry my love. I always make love with you gently, I know how delicate you are~”

You didn’t care how gentle he was, it was still against your will and sometimes forced with a bit of pain. Like just now when he had stomped his hoof on you.

You could feel his slimy cock rubbing up against your hole, eager to slide into you, but he made himself resist the lure of your insides for a moment while he prepped you.

He did this by using the tip of his prick to massage your entrance, and lather it in precum.

Then he slowly, bit by bit, slid into your ass. He gasped as he entered you.

“G-gods princess , your cunt is amazing~”

You just fit him so well, it was like sliding into a warm glove made specifically for his 10in cock.

He was large and powerful, and like always he had to resist just pounding into you with reckless abandon. It took all his power not to.

But he had to make sure you were treated like the frail lady that you were, it wouldn’t do for him to harm a princess, it would be unthinkable.

So instead he savored it, and eventually his careful ministrations were met with your beautiful little whimpers and moans of pleasure.

You always tried to stifle them away from him, but you never managed to.

His cock was kissing your walls so tenderly, touching that spot inside you that he always seemed to find.

Prince Inthil managed to coax several orgasms out of you, making you pant and gasp with each thrust into your overstimulated body. You couldn’t help humping into your hand, desperately seeking another release as his balls finally emptied into you.

“You make such lovely sounds when we make love~”

He picked up your cum leaking body and held you close, you were so fucked out that you couldn’t do anything, your arms were like jelly from being in that pose for so long.

You muttered something incomprehensible and went limp as he put you over his shoulders. He chose to interpret the noises as a declaration of love.

“Awe, I love you too. I knew all you needed was a good breeding~”

The prince kissed the top of your head softly before smiling to himself. He just had the most wonderful idea. He’d quite like to hear those cute sounds of yours on the way home.

As he slowly hauled you back home he slid a couple fingers into your cum-lubed ass, eliciting more of those cute little gasps and moans, albeit tired and weaker ones, from your pretty mouth.

“Don’t worry darling, when we get back we can mate some more before I clean you up."

[viperify]

Kinktober 2024 | 𝗼𝗰𝘁 𝟮𝟵: ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Goddess.

Short summary: You lay in bed with sore muscles and a headache after an exhausting few weeks at Hogwarts. Luckily, your boyfriend knew exactly just how to make you feel better…

Warnings: 18+ only! praise kink, body worship, teasing, oral f!receiving, oral m!receiving

A/N: Draco appreciation post bc I have been NEGLECTING my blonde baby.

wordcount: 2,0k

You slumped onto the bed in your dorm, your head throbbing in pain. The last few weeks had been tough, exam after exam draining your precious energy. Now, after your last test, you could finally rest, your sore muscles relaxing as you closed your eyes and took a deep exhale.

Then, frantic knocking on the wooden door of your dorm snapped you back to the present. You were about to tell whoever it was to leave, not wanting to deal with anyone right now. Though, the door creaked open without you even saying a word, and you spotted the familiar platinum blonde with deep-blue eyes peeking into your room from the hallway. A sense of relief washed over you at the sight of your boyfriend. He was the only one who you would allow to accompany you at the moment.

As he noticed how you lay in your bed, he grinned. “Exhausted?” he asked you, slowly making his way towards you. You only managed a nod, Draco taking a seat next to you on your bed. “You worked so hard. I am proud of you, darling.” He soothed, his hand caressing your hair as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. You hummed, closing your eyes at the comforting presence of your boyfriend.

He slowly kissed his way down to your cheek, stopping at the corner of your lips. Your eyelids fluttered open, brows furrowing. “Don’t tease.” you complained, the smirk on your boyfriend’s lips growing. He gave in, his lips meeting yours for a tender kiss. His hand cupped the side of your face, making sure you gave in to the kiss.

As it got more heated, he pulled back just slightly, his breath hot on your face. He then looked up into your eyes, with a hunger you knew all to well. “Want to make you help relax, baby. Just let me make you feel good, hm?” His hands travelled to your blouse while trailing kisses down your neck. Draco took his time opening the buttons, savouring every single moment of it. Soft moans left your parted lips, fingers tugging on his blonde curls. “Draco!” you whined, arching your back to signal him you finally wanted him to move on. Being compliant like he was, the blonde got the hint, freeing you of the material covering your top half. You were left in your emerald green bra, a gift you had gotten from Draco for your one-year anniversary. Gently, he undid the clasps at the back, taking in the sight in front of him.

“You are such a pretty girl. All mine.” Draco mumbled as he tenderly sucked on one of your nipples, drawing small gasps from you. His fingertips trailed over your soft skin, stopping right at the waistband of your skirt. “M’ gonna remove this, alright?”, not waiting for an answer, he tugged at, it pulling it down your legs. He sat there, staring you up and down. “My gorgeous girl. Fucking love everything about you.” The blonde then positioned himself between your thighs, hands on your waist, trailing kisses from your sternum all the way down to your panties. His strong arms kept your thighs spread for him as he placed a kiss directly onto your still covered clit. “Draco please!” you squealed, your hips rocking forward in an attempt to find desperately needed friction. “Patience, darling.” His fingers slowly swiped up and down the length of your cunt a few times, feeling the wet patch that had formed on the fabric.

“Already so damn wet for me. Needy girl.” A sly smirk formed on his lips, finally tugging on your panties to remove them. You obliged, lifting your hips. “All mine.” He murmured as he dived in, his tongue swiping through your slit, pushing into your entrance as his thumb rubbed small eights on your puffy clit.

“Dray- oh Merlin- Feels so good!” tears started forming at the corner of your eyes at the intense pleasure your boyfriend was giving you, your muscles relaxing completely so you could feel every single bit of it. “I know, baby. Just let me make my girl happy.” His tongue travelled up your folds, kitten licking your sensitive bud, soon wrapping his lips around it to suck on it. Two of his digits entered your welcoming heat, perfectly stretching it out, his fingertips expertly working against your g-spot. You threw your head back, vision going blurry. All you could do was moan loudly, your thighs trembling, involuntarily closing at how sensitive you were getting.

The blonde then pulled back, stopping. “Gotta keep those legs wide open for me if you want to come, baby. Can you do that for me, darling?” You breathed heavily, looking at your boyfriend situated between your legs, agonizingly close to where you needed him most. “S’ just so s-sensitive.” You whined, pouting at him.

“I know baby. Just be good for me and take it, okay? It’s going make you feel so much better, I promise.” After you nodded, he continued licking and sucking on your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you relentlessly. “Feel you gripping my fingers so tightly, fuck. Go on and let go for me. Come all over my fingers, darling.” Draco hummed against your clit, the vibrations sending you into an earth-shattering orgasm. Your entire body shook, your walls fluttering around his digits. The blonde perfectly worked you through your high, gently releasing your clit after you had calmed down.

“Such a good girl. Go on, taste yourself.”

He stuck his fingers into your mouth, and you licked them clean, staring into his deep blue eyes you loved so much. “Fucking love the taste of you. So divine, just like the rest of your body. M’ the luckiest boy on earth.” He grumbled, feeling you twirl your tongue around his digits. Draco didn’t stop there though, instead he pushed his two fingers further down your throat, until he could feel you gag around him. “Fucking love when you do that-“

Your boyfriend was the type of person who did not only love giving oral, but also receiving. Particularly preparing your throat for his cock seemed to be one of his favourite things about it. Most of the time he would shove his long digits in your mouth, demanding you to suck on them just the way you would with his dick. Especially your tear-stained cheeks when he had you gag around either his dick or fingers turned him on incredibly much. You didn’t mind it – in fact, the sweet little sounds coming from his parted lips, watching you work with your mouth with so much love – made you feel satisfied yourself. After all, you would do anything to make your boyfriend happy, just like he would do for you.

“Darling, you sure you want this? Don’t wanna make this about myself, you know?” Shaking your head, you met his uncertain expression with an encouraging smile. “Your pleasure is also mine, Dray.” His face softened, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You are the best.”

Your boyfriend’s hand continued thrusting in and out of your mouth, strings of your saliva connecting his fingers to your lips when he pulled out to let you take a breath. Deep blue eyes watched you intently, every single tear rolling down your cheeks made him furrow his eyebrows harder. “You are incredible, love.” He praised you, removing his fingers to wipe your damp cheeks. “Think you are ready for me?”

You nodded frantically, eager to taste him again. “Get on the floor for me then, darling.” You did as he said, getting on your knees and waiting for him to instruct you on what to do next. The sweet boyfriend he was, he placed a cushion under your knees to prevent them from bruising. Finally, he stood in front of you, reaching down to stroke your hair. “Go on, love. Undress me.”

Your eyes glued on his, you reached to undo his belt, eager to free his hard length. The leather dropped to the ground, as did his trousers, leaving him in nothing but his briefs. You circled the visible bulge through the fabric, slowly stroking him, paying close attention to his facial expressions. His chest rose and fell heavily as he looked down at you teasing him.

“Darling.”

His tone was sharper than usual, yet still respectful. You grinned as you pulled down his underwear, letting him step out of it. Immediately, you reached for his dick, pumping it in your hand and placing a kiss on his tip. After you spat on it, you took it in your mouth, slowly licking the underside of his erect length. Draco groaned, and as you swirled your tongue around his tip, he threw his head back, hands finding your hair. He kept them there as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock, doing your best to take him as deep as you could. “Feels so good- fuck keep going, love.” The blonde moaned, looking into your teary eyes as you peeked up at him through your eyelashes.

“Such a pretty girl. You are a goddess, fuck.”

One thing your boyfriend really loved was praising you, especially when you were doing extraordinarily well for him. He hissed at the vibrations when he hit the back of your throat, as you hummed in response, fully focused on pleasuring him. “All the way in, love. I know you can.” He encouraged you sweetly, voice rough.

And you tried, you really did, however it didn’t work out exactly how you wanted it to. Draco sensed your struggle and pulled you off his length. “Going to guide you, okay? Just relax for me, will you?”

“Of course” you answered, hastily taking his cock back in your warm mouth. His hand still in your hair, the blonde pushed you down on him slowly. You were always surprised at how much deeper you could take him when he was in charge, and tried to stay nice and compliant, even when you couldn’t stop choking on his dick. “Doing so well, love. Almost there. Keep opening up wider for me.”

Finally, he managed to fit himself entirely into your throat, the tip of your nose hitting his lower abdomen as he kept you there for a few seconds, until you tapped his thigh. Draco grinned, pushing you back down immediately, barely letting you catch your breath. You choked and gagged, but you knew this is exactly what he needed.

“Fuck- m’ going to-“ his movements became more erratic, so you knew he was close. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, all focused on how his cock was disappearing deep into your mouth.

“Look so pretty right now. Can I come on your face, gorgeous?”

You managed a nod, and soon enough he yanked your head back by your hair, stroking his cock in his hand. “Keep that pretty mouth open for me, love.” He groaned. Just mere seconds later, hot spurts of his release painted your tongue and mascara-stained face. He made sure you got every last drop of his seed, instructing you to swallow what had reached your mouth, which you gladly did. “Good girl. I am so proud of you, darling. Always making me feel so good.” He whispered, bending down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “Just going to clean us up now, alright?”

Draco soon after came back with a towel, cleaning your face and between your legs, both of you changing into more comfortable clothes. You then both lay on your bed, curled up together. The blonde massaged your sore shoulders, giving you a glass of water to keep you hydrated. “Going to release the soreness of these muscles, love.” He hummed into your ear, and you nodded. The way his fingers worked into your skin worked wonders and you were insanely grateful to have such a caring boyfriend, who worshipped your body as though you were a goddess.

After all, for him you were.

His gorgeous girlfriend.

[saltnsugarbear]

holy water cannot help you now (18+)

summary: after telling Lip you don't get the appeal of sex, he decides to enlighten you

title from: "Seven Devils" by Florence and the Machine

word count: 1.2k

content warnings: MDNI!!! Lip calls reader kid, mention of recreational smoking, innocent-ish reader, Lip is a little freak /pos, afab reader genitalia, vaginal fingering, oral (reader receiving)

side note: found a way to mention my new ghost undies I love them <3

divider by @strangergraphics

It starts when Lip gives you your first joint.

That fire in his belly as he watches you hesitantly wrap your lips around the bud. It gets worse when you cough at your first hit, watching how your eyes water.

At first, he thought it was a sense of pride. Proud you felt comfortable enough to trust him, proud of you for taking that first hit.

When you asked for a hit from his cigarette a week later, he got the same feeling. This feeling of hunger clawing at his throat as he watched your chapstick leave a faint ring of red around the filter.

"That's all you're gettin'," He tells you, taking the cigarette from your hand. "Don't need y'gettin' addicted.."

His words make you roll your eyes, blowing the smoke in his face. In response, he cuffs you around the back of your head, ruffling up your hair.

"You're addicted to 'em.. Don't know why it matters if I am.." You mutter. You don't mean to pout, but you find it a little hypocritical that he's going to warn you about addiction.

"Yeah, well, if I jumped off a bridge, would you follow me?" It's meant to be a tease, a play on if your friends jumped off a bridge, would you? question.

"Maybe.." You mutter, shrugging your shoulders. Lip wasn't expecting you to answer so honestly, getting you a surprised laugh from him. You watched as Lip brought the cigarette to his lips and shook his head.

"You're ridiculous, kid.." He mutters when he exhales.

"I'm older than you, jackass," you tell him, furrowing you brows as you look at him. Your response makes him roll his eyes.

Lip thought the curling feeling he got when he watched you take your first drag would be a one time thing.

However, when you explained to him you were confused about how sex could possibly feel so good, it just sounded so messy and uncomfortable, that the feeling came clawing at his brain again.

It reared its head at him when he asked you if you had ever watched porn, masturbated, anything that might give you any inkling of an idea about why it was so good.

And it's not that Lip got off on you knowing so little and being so innocent and letting him show you - okay, maybe Lip got off a little at the idea of you being this innocent. He had this perverted sense of pride, knowing he would be the one to tell you to show you.

But that also depended on if you wanted him to show you. Something about some stranger teaching you how to fuck made his stomach churn, made him want to tell off this imaginary person. When he asked you if you wanted him to show you how sex could be good, he wasn't expecting you to say yes.

So when you did, he was caught off guard. He didn't get shy, but he felt himself get anxious at the thought. What if you thought he was weird? What if he ruined this experience for you and didn't change your mind at all?

His thoughts were derailed when you sighed his name softly, looking up at him with doe like eyes. All of his worries are forgotten, focusing on just making this experience as good for you as he can. The way he kisses you is different than how he's ever kissed anyone. It's soft and slow and sweet. Everything he pretends to not be.

This is what led to the both of you sitting on the edge of the bed, Lip with one of his hands under your shirt, feeling up your chest. You're breathing heavily against his hair as his mouth kisses down your neck. Lip bites softly at a few different spots, drawing out a whine from low in your chest. He's quick to start slipping off the bed, his mouth kissing the fabric of your shirt over your stomach. His hands are the last to follow, gripping at your skin softly as he moves down until he's grabbing at your waist.

"Gonna let me take these off?" He asks you, pulling at the waistband of your pants.

"Mhm.." You nod, looking down at him. You watch him smirk softly, bringing his hand up to push against your stomach.

"Lay back then, baby.." He says as he starts undoing the buttons and zipper. You're quick to please, laying back almost immediately. Lifting your hips so he can slip your jeans off is easy, and he slips them the rest of the way down your legs and tossing them to the side. He presses a soft kiss to your calf before he's sitting up to really take in the state of you, taking in the panties you're wearing.

"What the-" Lip cuts himself off. The way he speaks is what alarms you, making you push yourself up on your forearms.

"What?" You ask anxiously, brows tugging together as you study him.

"Ghost underwear?" He asks you, blonde brows quirking up when he looks up with a smirk. His question makes your face flush, twisting your mouth to the side.

"They're cute! And fun!" You tell him. You had been excited about the little ghosts on the front of your new panties. Four of the five had little ghosts pasted to the center, the fifth having a whole pattern of the ghosts.

"You're gonna kill me, kid.." Lip sighs, pressing a soft kiss to your stomach as an apology. He listens to you huff as you lay back down, fidgeting as you wait for him to do something.

The feeling of Lips tongue over your underwear makes you inhale sharply. The hum he lets out as he laps at you through the fabric makes your hips buck into his face. Maybe you can start to understand why people love this.

Lip spends what feels like hours in between your thighs. He spends that time lapping softly at your core, slowly working you open with his fingers. The feeling of your first orgasm is overwhelming, walls clenching tightly around his fingers while he sucks in your clit. He spends even longer down there after that, thrusting his fingers in and out of you as he kisses your clit.

Both orgasms have your legs clenching around him, squeezing him between your thighs. The groans he lets out against you overwhelm you, bringing your hands to push his face away from your core. His pupils are blown wide when you look down at him. Lip's chin is shiny with your slick, his face is flushed, and he looks positively smitten.

Your chest rises and falls heavily, blinking hard to clear your head. You watch as Lip uses his thumb to wipe off his chin, popping it in his mouth to clean it off. When he's done, he slips your underwear down your legs before making quick work of his own jeans. Lip is slow to crawl over you, slotting his hips against yours with his cock heavy against your stomach. You can't help but whine softly, lifting your hips to get some sort of relief.

"Look at ya. Already got you begging for it like a slut..." Lip kisses along your collarbone, biting the skin softly.

"Please, Lip," you whine into his ear, rocking your hips up so you can rub against the underside of his cock. Your whining does little to dissuade his words.

"Gonna let me fuck ya? Make y'feel good?" Lip asks as he lines himself up with your entrance. "Gonna let me show y'what you're missin'?"

His words make you feel dizzy, but you're nodding anyway.

"Yeah, gonna fuck ya real good.."

[avaleigh16]

Ghost: Thank you all for coming.

Y/n, wearing a hospital gown: When I heard you couldn't get laid, I dropped everything and came straight here.

Ghost: Well, I couldn't imagine anyone else being part of the "Fuck Ghost Task Force".

König: Yeah, I interpreted that in a different way.

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

Price, rubbing their temples: I am not proud of what I am about to say, but someone get me a cigarrette.

Y/n: But Price, we don't smoke.

Price: Cut the crap, Y/n. I'm not an idiot. I know that one in five people smoke.

Price: *points at Alejandro* One! *points at Y/n* Two! *points at Soap* Three! *points at Gaz* Four! *points at Ghost* Five!

Price: Now, I am going to close my eyes, and when I open them, there better be a cigarrette between these two fingers!

Ghost: *puts a cigarrette in Price's hand*

Price: Thank you. ...Light?

The Squad: *all simultaneously pull out lighters*

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

Ghost: Wait, hold up, why you draw yourself like that?

Soap: Uh, like what?

Ghost: Like with gorgeous, muscular legs.

Ghost: Uh, this is what I look like.

Ghost:

Soap: THIS IS WHAT I LOOK LIKE!

Ghost: Okay, then I want big beefy arms. Hot ones.

Y/n: I wanna have a cowboy hat!

Soap: Okay, arms and hat. * draws them*

Gaz: Ooh, give me a cowboy hat too!

Soap: You can't just take Y/n's hat idea, Gaz! They thought it up all by themself like a good person! Come up with your own thing!

Gaz: BUT I WANNA LOOK COOL!

Price: Put Gaz on one of those stupid baby tricycles.

Gaz: NO!!

Soap: Tricycle, done. * draws it* Alejandro, want anything?

Price, making finger guns: Pew pew.

Soap: A blaster?! No, that's not really our style, Alejandro.

Alejandro, making finger guns: Pew pew.

Soap: You know what, okay. * draws it* But it's just for holding, not for shooting.

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

Ghost: We're kind of missing something guys.

Alejandro: Cohesion?

Gaz: Teamwork?

Y/n: A general sense of what we're doing?

Price: And Soap is not here.

Alejandro: Oh, and that, yeah.

[prongspoet]

broken hearted | luke castellan.

first time writing for luke, so hope this is okay! tell me what u think in the reblogs i would love to know and get more luke asks!

summary: the curse of cabin 10 makes aphrodite!reader pretend to date her best friend so she doesn't have to cause a heartbreak to her actual crush. even though, at the end of it, she's the only one who had her heart broken. major inspo from this concept.

"You're staring." y/n' best friend, luke castellan, head counselor of the hermes cabin, pointed the fact out, side eying the girl right at his side, after looking at the boy sword training in front of them.

"he's staring back." the aphrodite girl said with a grin. the sunlight bathing her head making it comfortingly warm. luke would know, since he was the one caressing it while she laid down next to him. both of them on the grass, enjoying the late afternoon at camp. "so..."

michael dawson, ares' kid, was, in fact, staring. luke couldn't blame him, the way his best friend looked made everyone pay attention to her. she didn't even had to try. and still, the swordfighting happening in front of them made luke even more sure that mike needed a way so she could notice him. not naturally, but somehow, it worked, since the girl payed attention to him as soon as he started.

"oh well, like mother like daughter, huh. " he continued, in a mocking tone, holding his laugh, raising himself by his elbows, before taking one of his hands to the girl's arm. "your siblings wouldn't be too happy to see the goody two shoes dating an ares' kid, would they?"

"gods, don't fucking say that." she giggled, hiding her face with both of her hands. she went quiet for a second, still staring at the boy. "ares' kid or not.." y/n sighed, pouting slightly. "mike's nicer than the others, he wouldn't deserve to be a guinea pig."

"what do you mean?"

"you know what i have to do.” the girl muttered, with a soft sigh. she couldn't blame her mother, she worshipped aphrodite; her beauty, her power, her knowledge and her actions. that didn't mean that she enjoyed the judgment. the need to make someone else feel miserable just because she could. it wasn't fair. "the first love heart break thing."

"i'm glad i'm not in his shoes, that's for sure." the boy whispered, with a chuckle, still trying to be as quiet as possible. his thumb caressing her arm incessantly. it made her skin burn. in a second, y/n abruptly raised her chin, getting supported by her elbows, getting muffled groan from luke, once it hit his ribs. "what is it?"

"you could be!"

"am i your first love, daisy?" he raised one of his eyebrows, with a mischievous grin stamped on the boys face. the scar in his eye making itself more clear. "you should have told me sooner- ouch!"

"shut up, hero. listen to me!" he knew that tone. and as anyone else who had a single bit of sense, he kept quiet, wanting nothing more to hear her insane idea. "we could pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend." the smile on her delicate face kept getting bigger as she explained her brilliant - yet not completely effective - idea. "i could pretend to break your heart. no one gets hurt, i can stay with mike after is over, and my mom ends up being proud of me!"

the aphrodite girl stared at him expectedly, hoping he would buy her insane plan, hoping he could save her from doing something he never imagined her doing it. luke got quiet for a minute. his eyes were darker than usual. he couldn't stand that. y/n knew her best friend well enough to know that he meant to say something. he never truly did. "you shouldn't be looking for her approval."

"i'm not searching for approval i'm just trying to prove myself.."

"you don't have to prove your devotion to her by doing this." his tone stern, more quiet. colder. "you burn offerings for her every single day. you pray, you're always expressing how incredible she is."

"you don't have to do it if you don't want to."

and suddenly, the idea seemed more appealing than ever. she wasn't using her charmspeak on him. no, luke knew how sugary and sweet y/n's words could be when she wanted to. at that moment, his best friend was just being honest. and even though he could retribute that feeling, luke felt that he needed to do it. just for her.

"yeah," he nodded. defeated. "fine, i'll do it."

"really?" the girl hugged him tight. more excited than ever. "thank you boyfriend!"

"yeah, yeah." he grinned, letting her rest her head on his chest, carefully watching y/n closing her eyes, like nothing else would ever bother her. "just don't be too mean when you dump me."

pretending was easy.

they've always been stuck to each other. having dinner with each other. burning offerings with each other. planning capture the flag with each other. training, swimming, talking, sneaking out to parties. always with one right after the other.

it wasn't supposed to be different, they just had to make it more believable.

"we should be holding hands," y/n pointed out as the couple walked calmly to the main area, where dinner was starting. "silena asked me why we never hold hands if we're dating, so i thought we could make it more..."

"real, yeah." luke nodded, grabbing her hand right the next second she spoke. "c'mon, girlfriend, hurry up." he grinned, and she couldn't help but grin back. "i'm starving."

luke could do that. he could kiss her in front of people, and tell everyone the way they got together. he could hold hands with her, caress her back and almost have a heart attack when she kissed him behind his ear. he could live with that, yeah. it was normal. it was pretending.

until it started to change. suddenly. quickly.

he noticed her. the eyes, the shape of her face, the way her eyebrows moved when she laughed, and the look she gave him every single time she entered a room he was already in, and luke couldn't help but pay attention at her soft hair, how excited she became while looking at pretty flowers, and especially, how her fingers felt against his own scalp when they needed to do some pretending. she was an aphrodite kid after all. y/n was charming. y/n was lovely. y/n was his girlfriend, at least for a while.

and she couldn't help but notice him either. how his scar looked more bright when they. the subtle, yet attentive and gentle way he taught her how to hold a sword, how to train, how to fight. the infuriating way at how he held her chin up slightly, every single time, before sealing his lips against hers.

and for once, neither of them were pretending.

the bonfire started earlier that night, but the couple came to it late; y/n helped one of her sisters who was in a small crises, and her sweet caring boyfriend waited for her by the aphrodite cabin's door, holding her hand as soon as she got out, so they could sit together at one of the logs, full of campers, chartering, telling stories, and enjoying the peacefulness that the simple event emanate.

luke choose one of the back logs for a reason, it was darker, harder to anyone else to see them. even so, as soon as the boy started to leave little pecks at her jaw, he was able to hear some whistles and exclamations. teenagers were gonna be teenagers after all.

"alright," y/n sat upstraight, taking a deep breath before continuing. "you can't do that here."

"i'm just having fun!" the boy said with a mischievous grin. he knew way to well what he was doing. she hoped he would do it forever. the teasing, the almost getting caught made her heart sink every time. "you are my girlfriend after all."

"don't get ahead of yourself, hero." she muttered, grinning at him, before sealing lips with him again. "i still have to break your heart."

"are you sure about that?" he furrowed his eyebrows, pretending to be offended, but getting right back at his job pretty quickly. "i'll just enjoy it until the time comes then."

she laughed, taking her head back so he could have full access to her neck, delicately taking one of her hands to his scalp. and he noticed how much he loved that sound. so much in a way he wished he could bottle it up so he could taste it every time he felt miserable. that wasn't possible. but y/n promised that as long as they were together, he was allowed to make her laugh any time he wanted to, if if meant getting him happy.

that's why it hurt even more when he did what he did.

when he revealed himself to be the traitor.

"come with me."

"i'm sorry, what the hell are you doing?" she cried out, feeling her heart beating faster than ever. "you're not thinking straight. you're not. you're not like this, i-" the words got caught up in her throat. y/n felt like she could pass out at any minute. "i know you luke." her voice was a mere pleading by then, hoping with all her soul he would hear. "you wouldn't do this to me."

"you mean a lot to me, daisy, but this is fucking different."

he was different, and she finally noticed. his eyes darker, his tone stern, and the way he held himself up, like he was prepared for a fight.

y/n would never fight him.

and he would never fight her, right?

and when luke turned his back against her, letting the aphrodite girl caught up with a sob, furrowing her eyebrows, feeling the tears already soaking up her eyes, y/n thought she understood.

maybe aphrodite didn't buy it. and even if she did, she knew it started out with a lie. y/n was playing house. thinking she could be smarter than her mom, she could prove it to everyone else how that curse was a lie, and that nothing would happen to the one that didn't completed it.

but it did happend.

no demigod could ever stand out a god. y/n was no exception.

and she finally understood that.

by the end of the day, y/n went back to her well known cabin, shamefully, missing her radiant aura and pretty smile, hiding a shattered heart in her pocket.

[queer-reader-07]

so you know that post that’s like “stop telling people they can’t call themselves FTM, i lived as a girl for years i WAS a girl”?

well there’s a reblog on that post about being really protective of your pre transition self and it just really hit home for me.

kind of without realizing it i have a tendency to refer to pre coming out me as a girl, i use she/her pronouns when i talk about pre coming out me, all that jazz. and it never crossed my mind that that was weird? that it was somehow not normal to talk about pre coming out me as a girl or with she/her pronouns.

because I’M not a girl. my pronouns are they/them. why wouldn’t i refer to younger me the same way?

and i think it really does come down to being so fiercely protective of my younger self. she was such a strong and resilient little girl. she endured far too much bullying that went ignored by teachers. she was so hard on herself, she buried her emotions because she didn’t want to be a problem.

but she had hopes and dreams and goals and for fuck’s sake she WAS going to achieve it all.

and she was a girl. her girlhood was so intrinsic to who she was.

and i don’t see why i should discredit that? why i should have to they/them my past self so that it makes sense to other people.

that little girl is not who i am now. i’ve got healthier relationships with the people in my life, i have so many more amazing and beautiful friendships in my life, i no longer bury my feelings.

but if one thing hasn’t changed it’s that i’m still determined as all hell to achieve my dreams and goals. because i want to make that little girl that i was proud.

her biggest dream in life was to become a scientist, and now i’m here making those dreams come true. i’m here taking calculus and gen chem and signing up for ochem next year because if that’s what it takes, i’m gonna fucking do it.

yes a lot of my dreams and goals now are the same ones i had when i was younger. but knowing that i’m making that little girl, that girl who was hurting and confused why no one cared, proud makes it so much better.

i may not be a girl anymore. i may have grown into a non-binary genderfuck of a person. but the little girl that i was holds so much space in my heart. she is shrouded in love and care and tenderness because why would i hurt her? why would i hurt her more by acting like who she was was a lie?

she was a little girl. and she was amazing. and i want to honor that. i want to protect that.

i’m not really sure where this is going but my point is that it’s not only ok but BEAUTIFUL to be protective of your pre transition self. it’s so valid to talk about your pre transition self in terms of your AGAB. you don’t have to, obviously, but if you do and if that’s what feels right for you? don’t let anyone tell you it’s wrong.

[redvexillum]

My momma always told me, you either leave the fandom or stay long enough to write a selfcest fanfiction of a character. She was right. All joking aside...I...I'm actually sort of proud of how this one turned out? If ya'll can give this crack request story a chance, I would appreciate it.

TAGS/WARNINGS: selfc♡st, fr♡ttage, mild dub-c♡n, an♡l s♡x, ♡ral s♡x, character study, mild hurt/comfort, m♡sturbation(?)

WORD COUNT: 5K~

Lucifer stared at his reflection – or, well, the figure that was almost his reflection. It was unnerving, seeing himself like that, a perfect replica, standing there as casually as if he belonged. He had been tinkering with one of his many bizarre contraptions – this one, an overly complicated machine designed to spit out custom-dressed rubber ducks because, why not?  

But after one too many turns of doodads and doohickeys, what had emerged wasn’t a novelty toy, but him. A carbon copy. And now, that copy was glaring back at him, looking far less impressed.  

“So...do I kill you, or do you kill me?” the clone drawled, eyes narrowing in irritation. His voice dripped with impatience, as if this situation was nothing more than a tedious inconvenience.  

Lucifer raised his hands, laughing nervously. “Woah, woah! Hold up!” He tugged at the lapels of his jacket, his chin jutting forward proudly. “First off, I am the original,” he declared, head held high. “So, if anyone’s doing the killing here��” 

Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain knifed through his gut. He doubled over, gasping, his hands instinctively clutching his abdomen. “Oh, fuck me!” he rasped, struggling to catch his breath. “Why do I feel like I’m about to both combust and take the world’s biggest shit at the same time?!”  

The clone snorted, unimpressed. Rolling his eyes, he lazily rested a hand on the apple-topped staff at his side. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said with a tone of smugness, leaning against the staff like he was lounging on a park bench. “Only one of us can exist on this plane at a time,” 

Lucifer grimaced, his vision blurred by pain, as he glared up at his double. “Oh, that’s fucking helpful!” he barked, breathless. “How the hell was I supposed to know that?!” 

“Well,” the clone continued, ignoring Lucifer’s frustration, “I think we both know what has to happen.” There was a calmness in his voice, a decision made. Slowly, methodically, he began to shrug off his outer coat. “We need to–” 

“Kill,” Lucifer groaned.  

“Fuck,” the clone corrected.  

Lucifer wheezed, his entire body feeling like it was deflating. His mouth twisted into a forced smile, desperate for clarity. “Okay, okay, wait.” He chuckled weakly, rubbing his forehead. “When you say fuck...do you mean like, fuck as in kill, or...?” His voice trailed off as he glanced nervously at his copy.  

The grin that spread across the clone’s face was infuriatingly familiar – the same cocky smirk Lucifer hadn’t seen on his own face in years. It was unsettling how confidently his reflection seemed to own the moment. “No, no,” the clone said, voice dropping to a silky tone. “We are going to have the best sex of our life.” 

Without hesitation, the clone threw his top aside, his bare chest gleaming under the dim lighting as it hit the floor with a soft thud. Lucifer stared, wide-eyed, torn between disbelief and the undeniable, absurd pull of the moment.  

“Y-you don’t find this weird?” Lucifer stammered, stepping back slightly, his spine still curled inward, his stomach churning with a discomfort he hadn’t felt in eons. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing to make sense of what was happening. Sexual gratification had been the furthest thing from his mind ever since...ever since Lilith had left. 

Left him.  

Left Charlie.  

The void she left behind still gnawed at him, hollow and aching.  

His clone, though identical in appearance, stood with an unsettling confidence – shoulders back, head high, eyes blazing with the kind of self-assurance Lucifer hadn’t felt in what seemed like a lifetime ago. He looked...powerful. Like the Lucifer of old, the one who once stood in Heaven, who knew without a doubt that the world was his, who believed in his bones that anything he desired was within his grasp. Seeing this version of himself now was both infuriating and intoxicating.  

“Listen,” the clone purred, his red pupils glittering with amusement. “This is basically masturbation.” His voice was silk, laced with cruel teasing. “Which I’m sure we’re very familiar with, considering that’s all you’ve been doing ever since our sweet, lovely wife left us.” 

Heat exploded across Lucifer’s cheeks; a hot, embarrassed flush that made him grit his teeth. “Hey!” he snapped, but his protest died in his throat. He couldn’t deny it. Hell, this was a conversation about himself, after all – his clone knew everything about him, every dark, shameful secret.  

The clone straightened up, his smirk deepening. “Right now, our soul is split in two. It’s warring with itself because this–” he gestured grandly down his body. “–is unnatural. Souls aren’t meant to be divided like this.” 

Lucifer’s shoulders slumped, the weight of his clone’s words pressing down on him. His fingers fidgeted with the smooth surface of his staff, his mind trying to latch onto anything other than the situation before him. “So...you thought the solution was to fuck until our souls...merged?” His voice cracked, half-disbelieving, half-hopeful.  

“Bingo!” The clone chuckled, his grin only growing as he began to undo the button of his pants with casual confidence. “Besides,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eye, “if it doesn’t work, at least we’ll both get to reach the heavens.” His eyebrows waggled suggestively, and his forked tongue flicked out from his lips in a teasing gesture.  

Lucifer grimaced, his stomach tightening with nerves. His eyes darted involuntarily over his clone’s body, and suddenly, he became painfully aware of his own form. It had been centuries since he had looked at himself bare – really looked. The sight of his clone now, so perfectly him and yet not, was jarring in a way that twisted his insides.  

“Ugh, that’s...that’s...,” Lucifer muttered, his gaze shifting awkwardly. His self-consciousness gnawed at him, a raw vulnerability that was difficult to swallow.  

“Hey, don’t act so shy now,” the clone cooed, his voice dripping with a smugness that Lucifer hated to recognize in himself. “That’s the same line we used on Lilith when we first made love to her.” With a single fluid motion, the clone let his pants drop, his cock hanging uncut and unaroused, swaying with a casual confidence that only heightened Lucifer’s unease.  

“Woah, woah, hey, now!” Lucifer blurted, stepping back, his eyes flicking between his clone’s cock and the infuriatingly cocky grin on his face. “Again, how exactly is fucking supposed to merge our souls back together?” 

His clone shrugged, taking a step forward, completely unbothered. “I dunno,” he said with an exaggerated nonchalance. “Maybe when we both reach ecstasy, our souls will resonate, vibrate, and then, bam, they’ll fuse back together. After all,” he added with a theatrical sweep of his arms, “God did give us these bodies for a reason. Pleasure, procreation – this is the ultimate gift to humanity! To enjoy and, of course, multiply!” 

The clone’s voice was all show, his arms raised dramatically like some kind of divine preacher. But there was a glimmer in his eyes – something dark, something knowing – that made Lucifer’s skin prickle with an undeniable mix of dread and curiosity.  

Lucifer frowned, his brows knitting together, confused. Something about the situation – about the words his clone had said – felt off. Deep down, a nagging sense of dread tugged at him, though he couldn’t quite place why. Before he could puzzle it out, he jolted at the sudden warmth of his cheek.  

His eyes darted up, meeting his own reflection. But it wasn’t just the unnerving intimacy of having his clone caress his face – it was the startling realization that the twisting pain in his gut had vanished, as if it had never been there at all.  

“Looks like I might be onto something,” his clone murmured, fingers already deftly working at Lucifer’s bow tie, loosening it with ease. Then came the buttons, each one undone with deliberate slowness.  

“W-wait,” Lucifer stammered, a surge of awkwardness and outright discomfort pounding in his chest. This wasn’t right – none of this was right. But when his clone’s fingers brushed against the bare skin of his chest, Lucifer felt a jolt – his nerves sparking with an odd, pleasant warmth that made his breath hitch.  

“Oh, fuck. What the fuck is happening?” Lucifer gasped, his body betraying him. There was a strange sense of completeness now, as though the fractures within him, the things that had felt so wrong and broken, were beginning to knit back together.  

“Told you so,” the clone said, smirking with that insufferably cocky tilt of his brow. His lips curved upward in a grin that made Lucifer’s stomach turned with unease. “Now, let’s get this show started.” 

Lucifer stood there, frozen, watching as his replica continued to undress, each piece of clothing discarded methodically. The pants came off easily, unbuttoned and unzipped in a single fluid motion before being kicked aside.  

Now, they stood face to face, naked and exposed, and for a moment, it was like staring into a mirror. Every inch of his clone’s body was a perfect reflection of his own – yet, it was the confidence, the smugness in the clone’s posture that set them worlds apart.  

“L-listen,” Lucifer mumbled, his shoulders tensing as they rose toward his ears. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the lump of unease forming in his throat. “C-could you, I don’t know, shape-shift into someone else? Maybe it’d be easier to...ya know,” he trailed off, awkwardly circling his hand as his eyes flicked down to his own limp cock and them back to his clone’s. “And, uh, can I top? Not that I can’t take it, but I just...I prefer–” 

His clone let out a heavy sigh, cocking his head to the side as if he were disappointed by Lucifer’s hesitation.  “You seriously don’t feel it?” he asked, his voice dripping with impatience.  

Lucifer blinked, confusion settling deeper into his mind. Slowly, he reached inward, trying to gather his magic, to summon that familiar surge of power – but nothing happened. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes widening in panic. “Holy fu–” 

“Yep,” the clone interrupted, popping the “p” with a smug satisfaction. “You can’t access your magic. That’s because our soul is still split, dumbass.” 

Lucifer’s heart raced, the weight of the situation settling heavily onto his shoulders. For the first time, he felt the gravity of what was happening. He wasn’t just losing control – he had lost it. The realization made his stomach churn, but there was no turning back now.  

“Now that we’re on the same page about how serious this is,” the clone grinned, his teeth gleaming a pearly white that somehow made him appear even more unsettling. His expression was everything Lucifer wasn’t - confident, boisterous, and utterly sure of himself. It was a mockery of everything Lucifer had once been, and it made his skin crawl with unease. “Let’s fuck.” 

Lucifer swallowed hard, staring into his clone’s eyes, feeling a sick sense of inevitability creeping up on him. He wasn’t sure if he could go through with this – or if he even had a choice anymore.  

Lucifer lay on the bed, his body tense and awkward, his tail coiled tightly around his left leg like a lifeline, a small attempt at self-soothing. He felt exposed – no, worse than that. He felt like a blushing virgin, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been in millennia. 

His hands instinctively covered his chest, as though that would somehow shield him from the surreal reality he was trapped in. His cock hung half-flaccid, a humiliating reminder of his physical reaction to something he desperately wished he didn’t want.  

His clone’s hand drifted up and down Lucifer’s abdomen, knuckles brushing the sensitive skin just below his navel, occasionally grazing the tip of his cock. Each fleeting touch sent shivers up Lucifer’s spine, and despite the disgust and shame swirling inside him, he couldn’t stop his body from responding. His cock hardened, growing with each touch, betraying the war raging in his mind.  

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it all out. Shame burned through him like acid. How had it come to this? He was fucking his own clone. What kind of pathetic, twisted man had he become? 

What would Lilith say? The thought pierced through him like a dagger, and his heart clenched in pain. He could picture her now, her back turned to him, disgust etched into her face. She had always known his weakness, his flaws, but this – this was something else entirely. What would she think of him now?

What would Charlie think? His little girl – so full of light, so distant now. They barely spoke anymore. When they did, it was stilted, cold, and brief. She had left home centuries ago, and every passing year felt like another knife twisting in his gut. If she knew what he was doing right now, she wouldn’t just turn her back on him – she would hate him. 

A wave of loneliness crashed over him, and Lucifer’s heart sank. If only Lilith were here, none of this would be happening. Maybe he wouldn’t be alone. Maybe he’d still have his family.  

“Hey!” His clone’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Lucifer’s eyes flew open, his chest tightening in shock. His clone was holding his limp cock in his hand, its size reduced to something small, shrunken, and powerless. “Seriously?” the clone huffed in annoyance, dropping Lucifer’s cock as if it were nothing. “It’s like you don’t want to fix this.” 

Lucifer blinked, startled by the casual frustration in his own voice. The clone collapsed beside him on the bed, his back hitting the mattress with a lazy thud, folding his hands behind his head. “Well, I guess both of us are just going to cease to exist then. Painfully, I might add.” He paused, glancing at Lucifer with a knowing smirk. “And we’ll be leaving our girl behind.” 

Lucifer’s heart stopped for a moment. Then anger surged through him like a wildfire, scorching the shame and hesitation out of his chest. “Take that back,” he growled, sitting up, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m going to be with my little girl for the rest of eternity.” He wanted to say that Charlie needed him, but deep down, he knew the truth – he needed her.  

The clone fell silent, his cocky grin faltering for the first time. For a brief moment, something softened in his expression, the sharp edges of his usual bravado dulling. “I know,” he said quietly. And of course, he knew. He washim, after all. He understood that deep, aching loneliness better than anyone.  

Lucifer’s breath caught; the room filled with an uncomfortable silence. He watched, still tense, as his clone snapped his fingers and slipped off the bed. Lucifer furrowed his brows, his eyes narrowing as he watched the bare backside of his clone exit the room. A strange sense of foreboding curled in his gut, but he couldn’t have guessed what was coming next.  

When his clone reappeared, Lucifer’s eyes widened in sheer horror. “Oh, hell no!” he yelled, sitting up straight in the bed, his nose wrinkling in disgust.  

His clone stood before him, draped in one of Lilith’s old purple dresses, the very sight of it sending a wave of nausea rolling through Lucifer. The dress – once regal and commanding on Lilith – was ill-fitting on his clone. It hung awkwardly off his frame, too long and dragging on the floor, with the chest sagging low enough to reveal his nipples. It was a mockery, and Lucifer couldn’t tear his eyes away.  

“What?” his clone asked, dragging the hem of the dress along the ground as he clambered back onto the bed. Lucifer immediately crossed his arms over his chest, looking away, his face twisted in revulsion.  

“Don’t be such a hypocrite,” the clone scoffed, rolling his eyes. “After Lilith left, you literally fucked your hand while smothering your face in her clothes.” 

Lucifer’s breath hitched, his mind reeling. He could feel the humiliation crashing over him like a tidal wave. His clone knew everything. Every shameful, pathetic moment. And now, dressed in Lilith’s gown, his clone was dragging him through the mud, forcing him to confront his deepest shame.  

It was too much, Lucifer clenched his jaw, trying to push back the flood of emotions rising inside him. But he couldn’t - because every word, every mocking gesture, was true.  

Lucifer’s shoulders sagged, the weight of those words pressing down on him like a heavy fog. His eyes stung with the threat of tears, but he quickly blinked them away, unwilling to let them fall. It had been hard enough, those dark nights after Lilith had left without so much as a goodbye.  

The days blurred into week, then months, until centuries have long gone by. Charlie had asked where her mother was, and Lucifer had found himself spinning hollow lies after lies. “She’s off doing important things,” he would say, his voice faltering. He never could come up with something more substantial – just the vague notion of “important” being all he had to offer.  

And poor Charlie believed him, trusted her father’s words when Lucifer slowly sank into a dark spiral. The pain gnawed at him, and day by day, he closed off his heart to everything that once mattered. He had locked himself away, isolated, while his daughter’s belief in him, in them, lingered like an unbearable weight.  

Lucifer shook his head, physically trying to shove those thoughts back down into the depths of his mind where they belonged. He couldn’t afford to think about that right now. He had to face what was in front of him – himself.“Alright, let’s just get this over with,” he muttered, his voice strained.  

His clone cocked an eyebrow, smirking. “Geez, don’t sound too eager,” he mocked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “And here I went, dressing up nice and pretty for you.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes, the familiar sting of frustration bubbling up. “You’re such an ass.” He paused, realizing the irony – that all his insults were essentially directed at himself. His clone’s smirk only widened in response to Lucifer’s damning realization. 

“Relax,” his clone sighed, the weight of the moment shifting as he leaned forward, the bed creaking beneath him. He straddled Lucifer’s hips, the long dress pooling awkwardly around them, one sleeve slipping off his shoulder in a parody of seduction. “Let’s just do what we always do.” 

Lucifer swallowed hard, his throat tightening as he felt the warmth of his clone’s body settle on top of him. It was strange – unnerving – but grounding in a way. The warmth, the weight, it made it all feel too real.  

His clone pressed his hard cock against Lucifer’s, and the contact sent a ripple of heat down his spine. A hand planted itself beside Lucifer’s head as his clone leaned down, his breath brushing his ear. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, and Lucifer listened, squeezing them shut.  

A slow exhalation escaped him as he let his hands rest at his sides, the tension is his body slowly easing. He felt the blood pooling between his legs, rushing to his cock, filling him with a familiar heat he hadn’t felt in so long. His clone’s voice came again, softer this time. “Just focus on feeling good.” 

Lucifer shivered as his clone’s hand wrapped around both their cocks, the sensation of their skin sliding together igniting something deep within him. He let out a shaky moan, his body betraying the shame that still clawed at the edges of his mind. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to feel like this – to indulge in something that wasn’t soaked in guilt or regret.  

This is just masturbation, he told himself, nothing more than that.  

In the darkness behind his closed eyes, Lucifer focused on the feel of their bodies pressed together. The heat of his clone’s cock, the hard, throbbing shaft rubbing against his own. His clone moved slowly, gliding up and down, the sensitive ridges of their heads catching against each other in a way that made Lucifer’s breath hitch. Every touch, every movement was fire burning on his skin.  

“Oh...” Lucifer moaned, his head falling back into the pillow. “This feels really good,” he whispered, the words slipping out unbidden, soft and full of need.  

His clone stayed silent, his hips rocking steadily, methodically. But then, unexpectedly, he stopped. Lucifer’s eyes fluttered open just as he felt a sharp tug on his tail. Pain and pleasure crashed together, sending a shock through his body. “Oh, fuck!” he gasped, his hips jerking forward as a bead of pre-cum dripped from the tip of his cock.  

His clone shifted lower, settling between Lucifer’s legs. His cock jutted out, red-tipped and aching, and Lucifer’s breath hitched again as his clone lowered his head. The forked tongue slipped from his clone’s lips, teasing the slit of Lucifer’s cock, dipping just slightly into the sensitive opening before swirling around the shaft. The sensation was maddening, the wet heat of his tongue sending Lucifer spiralling further into pleasure.  

Lucifer’s chest heaved, his fingers clenching at the sheets beneath him as the world around him faded away, leaving nothing but the intense, unbearable feeling of his clone’s mouth on him.  

With a soft moan, Lucifer’s clone took him deeper, enveloping the length of his cock in the wet, tight heat of his mouth. The slurping, obscene noises filled the room, echoing the rhythmic sounds of pleasure.  

Lucifer’s hips trembled, the desperate urge to thrust upward nearly overwhelming him as the sensation of his dick being sucked, and his balls gently fondled took him over. It had been so long – too long since he felt anything like this.  

“Oh, fuuuck,” Lucifer groaned, his voice thick with lust, barely able to string the words together. “Oh, fuck, so good...ah, fuck...I could...I could do this forever,” he whimpered, his control slipping away entirely.  

A sharp tug on his tail sent a fresh wave of heat surging through him, driving him closer to the edge. His entire body tensed, hips twitching upward, seeking more.  

But then, just as he felt himself teetering near the brink of release, the warm, wet sensation disappeared. Lucifer whimpered as his cock slipped free from his clone’s mouth, slick and throbbing, twitching in the air as he watched through pleasure-hazed eyes.  

His clone spit on him, thick strings of saliva drenching his cock, glistening and dripping as Lucifer’s breath hitched in his throat. The sight of it, the feel of it, was maddening.  

His clone moved with purpose, stripping off Lilith’s old dress in one fluid motion and pressing it against Lucifer’s face. The fabric was worn, the scent long faded, but the texture was enough to flood him with memories of Lilith – moments when they were still a family, still whole.  

His breath hitched again as the tight, hot sensation of his clone’s body enveloped his dick. Both of them moaned in unison, the feeling almost unbearable in its intensity.  

The dress slipped down from Lucifer’s face, and through one half-lidded eye, he watched himself – his clone – riding him, bouncing on his cock with a smooth, fluid motion. Pre-cum dripped from his clone’s own throbbing erection, every downward thrust sending pleasure coursing through Lucifer’s veins. The mix of his own spit and the warm, tight heat made each movement feel decadent, sinful, and utterly overwhelming.  

“Oh, shit, I’m gonna come,” Lucifer gasped, his hands gripping the blanket as he buried his face into the fabric of Lilith’s dress, the scent and feel of it sending his mind spiralling into the past.  

He pretended, if only for a moment, that it was her – her body he was inside, her warmth he was losing himself to. “Lilith, fuck...Lilith,” he moaned, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes. He squeezed them shut, trying to conjure her face, her presence, the way she had once made him feel whole.  

His clone wasn’t stopping, wasn’t slowing. The movements grew more intense, and with another sharp tug on Lucifer’s tail, his body jerked, arching uncontrollably as the sensation ripped through him. The shaft of his tail slipped between his balls, sending sharp electric shocks of pleasure up his spine. “I’m gonna come... oh, honey, I–” His voice broke as he cried out, “I love you; I love you, Lily!” The nickname tumbled from his lips, raw and vulnerable, a name he hadn't dared utter in centuries.  

With a final thrust, Lucifer’s body tensed, his cock throbbing violently as he released inside his clone. Hot, milky seed spilled out, his hips jerking helplessly as the tight walls around him squeezed, milking every drop of his orgasm. The intensity of it left him breathless, his body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over him in relentless bursts.  

When the haze of his climax began to fade, Lucifer opened his eyes, panting heavily. His eyes fell on his clone, now slumped over him, their breaths mingling in the space between them.  

For the first time, in the daze of post-orgasmic bliss, the pain that had clawed at his soul for so long felt muted, distant. His chest still ached, but it was dulled, the sharp edges softened.  

It was only then that Lucifer noticed the sticky warmth coating his torso. His clone had finished too, his seed splattered across Lucifer’s chest and the dress, ruining it with their release. Slowly, his clone leaned forward, their faces close, mirroring each other in a strange, intimate silence.  

In a way, his clone had been right. For just this moment, the jagged, hollow incompleteness inside Lucifer was quieted.  

As the clone began to fade, his form becoming more transparent with every passing second, he spoke with softness that felt like a balm for Lucifer’s aching soul. “It’s okay to miss her,” the clone murmured, his forehead resting gently against Lucifer’s. The words felt like a distant echo, resonating in the deepest part of him. “It’s okay to be sad, to be confused, to be hurt.” 

Lucifer could only stare, his reflection looking back at him – his own voice giving life to the words he long buried, the truths he had tried to ignore. The sound of it, the sincerity, was almost unbearable.  

“It’s okay to have days when you hate yourself and days when you love yourself,” the clone continued, his body growing lighter and lighter, as if slipping away with each breath. His eyes closed, and Lucifer noticed just how fragile his clone had become. “But don’t lose sight of what you have now. You haven’t lost everything, and nothing is ever too late.” 

Lucifer’s lips quivered, his chest tightening with a raw emotion he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in eons. His hands trembled by his sides, frozen in place, as his eyes began to sting, his throat tightening painfully. His voice cracked, barely a whisper. “How do you know I haven’t lost everything?” The floodgates opened, and the vulnerability poured out like a torrent. “My wife left me. Charlie won’t even look at me. I created this awful place because of my foolish dream...so...” he took in a shuddering breath, “h-how could you say that?” 

For the first time in centuries, Lucifer felt his heart split wide open, the weight of the pain he had been carrying for so long threatening to crush him. The depressive cloud that had suffocated him for so long was lifting, revealing the gaping wound beneath. “You don’t know a single thing,” he whispered, his voice trembling, on the edge of breaking entirely.  

The clone’s eyes fluttered open, but now Lucifer could see right through him – his body almost entirely transparent, as if he was a shadow of a memory. “I know that Charlie is still here,” the clone said softly. “I know that I love my daughter very much, that I would do anything for her.” His voice was steady, filled with conviction, as he reached up and placed a fading hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “And hey, she’s my little girl, my whole world. So, I would say I still have everything within my reach.” 

That smile – the one Lucifer hadn’t seen on his own face in what felt like a lifetime – flashed across the clone’s face, bright and filled with hope. “I just need to reach for her, and I know she’ll accept me. I know because I’m you, dummy.” His voice was so gentle, and yet it pierced through every barrier Lucifer had built around his heart.  

With those final words, the clone dissipated into nothing, vanishing like smoke, leaving Lucifer alone in the room. But as his mirror image faded, Lucifer felt something begin to mend inside of him – a slow, painful process as his soul tried to stitch itself back together.  

Yet, even as he felt a sense of repair, his chest ached with an unbearable weight, a heaviness that pressed down on him like a physical force.  

A tear slipped down his cheek, and with it came a broken, self-deprecating laugh that echoed through the empty space. He was still draped in Lilith’s old dress, his body bare beneath the fabric, his torso sticky with his own release. The absurdity of it all hit him at once, and he laughed – laughed until the sound turned into a sob.  

He had turned his back on his greatest fear for so long, choosing the safety of solitude over the vulnerability of facing what truly terrified him; his own heartbreak. For centuries, it had been easier to shut himself away, to protect his fragile ego, to numb himself to the pain. But now, in the quiet aftermath of everything, he realized that his heart had been breaking all along.  

Every day he spent alone, every day he pretended that he didn’t care, it shattered just a little more.  

The tears came in waves, and he let them. He cried for all that he had lost, for the family he had once had, for the years of silence that had driven him deeper into his own despair. But he also cried because, for the first time, he understood that he hadn’t lost everything. Not yet.  

There was still time.  

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[tkaulitzlvr]

BEAUTIFUL - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when tom flirts with an interviewer at an event the two of you are attending, he has to make it up to you once he realises how hurt you are.

content: angst & smut

a/n: something small to compensate for my lack of posts lately, just in case i don’t manage to put something out in the next few days - exams finish after this week so i should be back to uploading a little more regularly!! (not proofread yet - apologies if there are any errors i’ll fix them asap)💗

the drive home is utterly silent. i refuse to turn my gaze toward him, despite the annoyingly noticeable glances he throws in my direction as he takes his eyes off of the road every few minutes, attempting to work out how i feel. doing so had never been easy, though now, it seems completely impossible, my eyes fixed on the road ahead. the only hint that i lend to him is concrete proof of my anger, this part of the endless puzzle of my emotions easy to piece together. tom is aware that he has fucked up, the silence buying him time to carefully consider his choice of words to avoid worsening this situation.

the streetlights lining the smooth path of the highway ahead cast their dull orange light into the silent car, melting onto my stern features, starting at my eyes, dark and heavy, dangerously close to letting the tears welled up within them go, trailing down to my lips, curved downward into a painfully noticeable frown. the radio is just as silent, no longer blaring out tom's obnoxiously loud music, instead replacing its heavy bass with the sound of our breathing, tom clearing his throat when the silence would become slightly too awkward.

it started with the two of us attending another event for the band, this becoming a usual occurrence since i had started dating tom, though i didn't mind it. i had always been supportive of the band - it was impossible to not be, supporting the man i love in the career he is passionate about is something i consider to be my biggest achievement, and i would proudly stand by his side no matter what he decided to pursue, as long as his happiness is guaranteed. he knows just how proud of him i am, this one of many reasons why i make sure i can support him in any way possible, and something that comes along with that is being his plus one for any event.

whether it is a good thing or not, our relationship has never been private. since it's beginning, we made it clear to the public that we are together, parts of our lives perhaps too out there, figuring that allowing unnecessary speculation would only worsen the cruel comments coming our way - though tom never really receives anything close to the backlash that i do.

however boundaries are still something that some couldn't grasp. the publicity of our relationship was and still is visible to anybody with a working pair of eyes. it would be unusual to see me without tom at any event, or to be pictured elsewhere whilst he would be playing a show - the two of us are attached at the hip, utterly infatuated, as the gossip magazines obsessed with our lives would say. and this is why i found myself so enraged that one of his female interviewers acted as if i was invisible, though i maintained my stance beside tom as he answered any questions she directed at him. touching his arm playfully whenever he made a funny comment - though her reaction would always be totally exaggerated, tom's responses never warranting anything more than a slight chuckle, tossing her silky brunette hair and adjusting her already very prominent cleavage at any chance she had, she made it evident that she wanted tom.

and he didn't try to stop her. his eyes scanning her body, twinkling with a foreign sense of lust, speaking thousands of ideas on what he would like to be doing in that moment, forgetting that his girlfriend was beside him. to anyone else, it would look like i was a friend, perhaps even an acquaintance standing beside tom, clearly nothing romantic seeming to be going on between the two of us, his promiscuous glances practically screaming the phrase 'i'm available', regardless of the fact that he is everything but.

it is his acts that lead us to the present, us leaving the event rather abruptly as the tears spilling down my face ruined the makeup i had spent hours applying - for him. embarrassment habituated within the pit of my stomach more than anything, the effort i had put in to look my best meaning seemingly nothing to him.

the berlin cityscape encircles my vision as i watch it quickly pass, skyscrapers and flashing lights heavily contrasting to the emptiness in the sky above, reminding me of why i love this city. the view from the tinted windows of tom's ridiculously priced sports car temporarily distract me from the sorrow i feel, providing me with some sense of security as i find myself longing for more and more of it, my mind and its thoughts spiralling far out of control.

the silence was almost painful, indisputable tension between us so palpable it is almost visible, air thick with thoughts best left unsaid yet i am still unprepared to speak to him, not after he had disregarded me for somebody who couldn't keep her hands away from what had clearly belonged to someone else. his hand hesitantly reaches down from the wheel to caress my thigh, this being a usual habit whenever i am in the passenger seat, yet this time he visibly contemplates doing so, wondering how i will react to his small act of affection.

"don't." i mutter through gritted teeth, my voice shaky and uncertain as i move my leg harshly away from his gentle touch, adjusting the material of my dress so it flows below my knees. an exasperated sigh escapes tom's mouth as he moves his hand to touch the wheel once again, not a single word uttering from either one of us for the entirety of the journey home.

i swiftly exit the car, slamming the door shut and quickly rushing inside of the house that tom and i share, deciding against waiting for him like i usually would. instead, i tug my uncomfortably tall heels off, carrying them under my arm as i trudge up the stairs to our shared bedroom, before he has any chance of catching up to me. i don't need his worthless apologies, especially in this moment when i know one small glance into those eyes will lead to an emotional outburst, or my surrender, his soft features enough to make me forget it all, something which this time, i don't want to do.

my body slumps into the chair facing my vanity as i begin to remove my makeup. the wipe traces across the intricate detailing along my eyelids, smudging the deep orange powder across it, ruining the colour as it smudges with the thick black eyeliner above it messily, completely ruining the blend that i had spent at least an hour perfecting. i take a fresh wipe, running it along my lips, watching the dark pink colour gracing them disappear from my face, leaving the natural colour of them in place of it. my foundation had already been ruined since i had rushed out of the event, long streaks where tears had once fell destroying the flawlessly applied base, the movements of my hands becoming much more ragged, channelling my frustration as i rush to remove each inch of makeup from my face, feeling pathetic for bothering to put any of it on in the first place - it clearly wasn't enough. eyes red and raw, glossy with the thin layer of liquid that covers their exterior, cheeks a light shade of pink from the force i had applied when removing my makeup, my reflection stares back of me, a gut-wrenching reminder that i'm not good enough for him, what i see in the mirror quickly making me realise why. i am a mess - my entire appearance disheveled, an unbelievable contrast to the woman tom had his eyes glued to, everything about her utterly flawless, seemingly crafted by god himself

seconds pass, each one painful and silent, allowing me to continue over-analysing every single aspect of my physical appearance, until a familiar pair of footsteps near my bedroom, a lump in my throat forming as i refuse to turn my head once their presence finally becomes much harder to ignore. even when he walks over, eyes filled with regret, my face remains still, gaze staying put as it burns into my own reflection.

"baby come on, don't be like this." he begins, his hand brushing against my shoulder tenderly as he stands behind me, peppering a single kiss onto where his calloused hand had previously been, this simple act of affection almost making me fold. his reflection gazes into mine through the large mirror in front of us, the tension thickening by the second as my heart closely considers betraying my mind, however remembering the way he acted tonight brings me back into my furious state.

"fuck you tom." i bitterly reply, standing up and swiftly moving into the en-suite, noticing the way he follows closely behind me, clearly not willing to give this up anytime soon. i ignore him regardless of how determined he is, walking toward the mirror and slowly beginning to brush my hair, eyeing his reflection as he moves closer towards me, our gazes interlocking, yet i force myself to look away before I foolishly forgive him.

"i'm sorry, please don't fight with me schatz." he pleads, moving toward me and gently wrapping his arms around my waist from behind,  beginning to plant slow and soft kisses along my neck, his thumbs massaging my stomach lightly. his eyes never leave my own through the mirror, staring intently with a look unable to be mistaken for anything else other than admiration, totally different to how he had ignored me earlier on. though it still isn't enough to put out the worried thoughts that occupy my mind, the belief that i am no longer good enough seeming more real than ever.

"wouldn't you rather be doing this to the girl who interviewed you earlier?" i ask blankly, removing myself from his grasp and walking toward the wardrobe, facing away from him and attempting to remove my dress, yet my small hands fail to reach the zipper that starts from my shoulder blades and travels down to my lower back. i am not in any position to ask tom for help as I usually would, instead mentally cursing myself for wearing this dress. he quickly returns from the bathroom, face softening once he registers my helpless state, his frame nearing my own, stopping once his chest is almost pressed firmly against my back.

"leibe you're being ridiculous." he sighs, moving my hair to the side so that it rests against my shoulder, positioning his hand gently on my lower back, the other reaching towards the zipper that i had struggled to pull down.

"get off me-" i begin, just about ready to pull away from his touch and spew out reminders of how much of an awful boyfriend he is, though i am cut quickly off by his steady breathing close to my ear.

"shhh. let me do this for you, then you can go back to being mad at me, okay?" he whispers gently, breath fanning against my skin as goosebumps begin to form along it, his mouth slightly open whilst he begins to unzip my dress at an agonisingly slow pace, exposing my bare shoulders as he removes the fabric from my upper body, his other hand caressing my waist, so gently as if he could break me. he is careful, tentative even, though his movements become undeniably more calculated, going even further once his face leans forward, in line with my shoulder, sinking lower and lower, until his lips hover over the now bare skin. my eyes are on the verge of closing shut, not stopping him just yet, even when both his hands place themselves firmly onto my hips, pulling my body backward so that it is pressed against his own. it is when his lips ghost over my skin, brushing against it so gently i wonder if i am imagining the contact, that i finally snap out of it.

"you said you would undo the zipper, not undress me." i say, the small moment of lust soon lost within the harshness of my words as i utter them, my back still facing him.

he says nothing, clearing his throat and slowly removing his hands from my waist. despite increasing our proximity more than it had been seconds ago, he still remains closely behind me as i grab an oversized t-shirt and fresh panties from my closet.

"can you leave? i want to get changed." i sigh, rolling my eyes and covering my cleavage as i turn to face him. after seeing the way he looked at her body, i tense in discomfort at the thought of him looking at my own. all the times he called me beautiful quickly seem insignificant as i am suddenly ashamed and insecure, almost embarrassed to be so exposed around him.

"what? you always get changed around me. we've been together for four years schatz, it's nothing i haven't seen before." he states, clearly surprised as i usually have no issue being naked around him, used to being showered with kisses and compliments whenever i am exposed around him, yet now i cannot imagine anything worse.

"my body clearly isn't good enough for you tom, i'm sure her's is perfect. i'm sure you'd agree right? the way you looked at her pretty much fucking said it all anyways." i respond, blinking the tears away as they are dangerously close to falling, my gaze dropping from his as i curse myself for acting so vulnerable around him, for letting him get to me this much.

"you and i both know that's not true." he sighs, reaching to wipe the tear falling down my cheek, his pointer finger gently tilting my chin upwards so that i am met with his gaze. "you know what i think of you. you know how perfect you are to me."

i don't respond, scoffing at his empty spews of supposed reassurance. instead, i ignore his presence as i should have done the first time he walked into the room, grabbing my pyjamas and entering the bathroom, quickly removing my dress and slipping on the t-shirt i had grabbed from the closet. i am immediately engulfed in tom's scent, an addictive mix of vanilla and his favourite cologne, this alone almost convincing me to run into his arms and forgive him. this time i know better, returning to the bedroom to find tom gone.

i take no notice, silently thankful for him leaving me alone. i switch the light off, slipping silently under the covers, allowing them to engulf me in warmth. a few minutes later, the bed dips beside me, tom sighing as i turn over to face away from him, instead of moving into his arms as i usually would.

he soon nears closer to me, refusing my attempts at keeping us apart, brushing my hair out of my face and nuzzling his head into my neck from behind, placing a single tender kiss before speaking up.

"please talk to me schatz, i'm so sorry." he mutters into the darkness, awaiting my response, yet i refuse to give him one, not moving from my tensed position.

"you said that your body isn't good enough for me." he slowly begins, turning me on my back in one swift motion as he props himself up beside me, one hand holding himself up as the other gently caresses my cheek. the darkness prevents me from making out his features, though i can still distinguish his dark brown eyes staring into mine. "let me show you. let me show you how beautiful you are."

my speechlessness forces me to do nothing but slowly nod my head, my quick acceptance clearly surprising him as he slowly leans downwards until his lips meet mine. the kiss isn't rough or lustful, it is slow and passionate, carrying every unspoken apology as his lips mould perfectly with mine. as much as i still hold back, still reluctant to let him in so easily, i can't hide it. we fit together flawlessly, our physical contact providing me with the certainty of our love. we are attached, not just physically, but spiritually, emotionally, in any way that two people can be bound together.

without breaking the kiss, he slowly crawls on top of me, caressing my face gently, our desire and hunger for each other increasing by the second, the fire only sparking further within me as i fall further into his touch.

"so perfect..." he mutters against my lips, pulling away only to begin gently kissing my neck, sighs of pleasure elicited from my parted lips as he finds my sweet spot, his tongue circling the area whilst my hands travel down his back, finding the hem of his t-shirt as i lift it over his head, his lips capturing mine softly once again. his hands caress my waist, finding my underwear as he loops his fingers around it, pulling it down slowly and throwing it on the floor beside him, doing the same with my t-shirt. my hands fumble with his underwear, pulling it down soon after, leaving our bare bodies pressed against each other, our craving for one another growing with every kiss he leaves against my lips.

he is the sun, and i am the planets orbiting around him. my entire being is his, only being able to function with the reassurance that he is mine, and i am his. every part of me belongs to him, and as i clutch on to him i find myself wondering what I did to deserve him, what i did to find somebody that compliments me so well, no one else providing me with the euphoria that he can.

he parts his lips from mine, staring into my eyes as i find myself in awe of his perfection. his lips are open ever so slightly, the minimal light cast into the room hitting his lips, soft and tempting, directly, the metal ring adorning them knocked to the side as his tongue comes out to rest against it. however my time to admire him is soon brought to a finish as positions himself at my entrance.

"you sure baby?" he asks, eyes scanning my own, searching for any sense of doubt within them. though i am quick to nod my head, muttering a clear 'yes' as my hands grip onto his biceps, studying the way his face changes from caring to lustful the second that his top pushes inside of me. he is slow, sliding into me carefully, though when he bottoms out, he makes sure that every inch of him is inside of me, his own eyes squeezing shut when my walls clenching around him. he starts off slow, maintaining a steady rhythm as i savour every second, holding onto him so tightly as if he could fall out of my grasp. quiet groans fill my ears as he buries his face into my neck, slowly beginning to pick up the pace, inaudible whines escaping my lips, each thrust further fuelling the ecstasy within me.

"fuck…i love you." he mumbles into my neck, planting fast and sloppy kisses anywhere his lips can find, my vision blurring as i am soon overwhelmed with pleasure. he is inside me, his body pressed against me as even the air cannot come between us, yet i long for him to be closer. i know that isn't possible, and god, that hurts to think about.

“right there, oh my god!" i cry out, my legs wrapping around his torso as he delves further into me, hitting the spot where i need him most perfectly, my eyes to rolling to the back of my head, no noise escaping my mouth as i can do nothing but savour this pleasure, knowing that it cannot last forever.

“so pretty baby…shit- so perfect." he whispers, connecting his lips with mine in a sloppy kiss, quickening his pace as i know he is getting closer to his release. his calloused hands gently grab my waist, pushing me into him further as he struggles to kiss back, moaning into my mouth as his pillowy lips hover over mine.

“i'm so close schatz." he mutters against my lips, his rhythm becoming irregular as his hips stutter and i feel him twitch inside me. i sigh in relief, finally letting go of the knot built up in my stomach, mouth falling open as i reach my climax, this enough for tom to come to his own.

“fuck, oh my god…" he groans, throwing his head back as i feel him release inside of me, his breathing becoming heavier. he slowly thrusts in and out of me, muttering inaudible words of praise, riding out our highs before collapsing on top of me, leaving a few lazy kisses on my shoulder. my hands find their way into his hair, gently running through the dark braids whilst his wrap around my waist. the room stays silent for a few seconds, this soon interrupted by tom’s voice, slow and rough.

“i'm sorry for everything. i love you schatz, you know that right?" he says breathlessly, lifting his head from my chest to look into my eyes, any lustful intent within them now fading as they display nothing but pure regret.

“i know. i love you too." i reply, kissing him tiredly on the lips before closing my eyes, close to falling asleep. though i am soon interrupted by tom’s hand over my shoulder, shaking it gently, whilst the other trails to my face, thumb running across the skin comfortingly.

“c’mon, let's clean you up first liebe, then we can sleep." he whispers, smiling weakly when i nod my head lazily, picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist, carrying me into the bathroom and turning on the shower, both of us climbing in.

the warm water covers my body, droplets running down it as his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into a tight hug. it is silent, though the quiet is everything but awkward, instead the reassurance that his embrace brings is everything i need, my eyes closing contently as he begins washing my body, occasionally kissing my forehead and whispering sweet nothings into my ear, before lifting me out of the shower and grabbing a fresh t-shirt, placing it over my head and onto my tired frame.

he collapses into bed, opening his arms out as i fall into his embrace, wrapping one arm loosely around his bare torso, tracing random patterns on his chest with my pointer finger, head resting against it so firmly i can hear the steady thumping of his heart, each faint beat somehow soothing me, until i fall into a deep sleep.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[sun-undone]

okay so i'm rereading the poppy war for the sole purpose of trying to squeeze all the chaltan content i can get out of it and my god is it delivering already

this first one is something that i completely breezed past in my first reading cause i didn't even know who tf chaghan was yet but on a reread????? GAY (pg. 226):

you're telling me that chaghan and altan just happened to be together when chaghan felt tyr's death? in the middle of the night??? mmhmm yup for sure

now as willing as i am to fully chalk this up to a late night chaltan tryst, i will be fair and admit that i'm not super clear on how exactly chaghan got the tyr info here. it kinda seems like he's doing his monthly meeting with the hexagram goddess (in the dialogue he literally says "there has been a hexagram" and then he interprets 3 things from it), but first off, it seems too coincidental for him to just happen to be doing that at the very moment that tyr dies, and also why tf is he doing it in the middle of the night?? is he just being extra dramatic and making up some "we have to do it at midnight" bullshit to see what he can get away with (a la the infamous kitay horse piss incident) or is there an in universe explanation for that that i've completely forgotten?

OR is it a secret, gayer third option: altan and chaghan were already together when he felt tyr's death, which then prompted him to convene with the goddess and get the hexagram. and we just don't see the full process or really get much of a proper explanation cause we're in altan's pov and it's all mysterious and shit at this point in the book. that's the one i'm going with and i cannot believe that this is their first scene together. the intimacy is already so palpable and we don't even know chaghan's name at this point in the book.

and then of course there's THIS (pg. 227):

absolutely fucking bonkers i'm spinning on my head

is anyone else this gentle with altan ever????? i'm genuinely asking. who else in the cike would even THINK about pulling a move like this? also the added layer of chaghan originally being next in line for commander before altan took him out to the fucking valley for THREE WHOLE DAYS and then THIS is his reaction to altan officially inheriting said title??? we know from a later conversation that chaghan has with rin (pg. 337) that he's very aware of how unprepared altan was to assume leadership over the cike, which just makes this gesture from him even more meaningful and tender. "we are yours to command. i am yours."

this next one just made me giggle and idk if it's just my brain being broken from scouring source material for gay crumbs or if it's actually intentional but (pg. 285):

i mean. i mean. if anyone knows the extent of chaltan, it's most definitely qara, and a lot of these crumbs involve her so i'm taking it as more evidence and no one can stop me

speaking of qara being an icon (pg. 317):

i actually forgot how much she's in this book i am so sorry queen

so unegen also has a strong reaction to ramsa's dialogue, but if i may be incredibly nitpicky about it, i'd argue that qara snorting implies a sense of "yeah right now that's funny", while unegen spitting out his wine implies more pure shock than anything else. i'm sure the cike have some idea about chaghan and altan's relationship going deeper than meets the eye (if it's this obvious from the crumbs we get over the span of a handful of scenes i can only imagine how sick and tired they must be after an entire year of it), but once again, qara is likely the only one who really KNOWS. for obvious reasons.

then we have the iconic dramatic entrance where chaghan is officially introduced, and even before zooming into a specific piece of it to prove my chaltan agenda, just the very existence of this scene is so fucking insane to me. rebecca could've chosen any way to properly introduce us to chaghan, and this is what she decided on. you could argue that it sets up chaghan's dramatic and obnoxiously proud personality, and that him being hurt is so we can see how it affects qara (and also just to up the tension and stakes) BUT how coincidental that on top of achieving all that character and narrative stuff, it also succeeds in showing us a completely different side to altan. one that is specifically brought about by chaghan.

would altan rush out into a sea of federation soldiers to help any other member of the cike? yes. but rebecca chose to show him helping THIS member of the cike. in THIS dramatic of a fashion (and it's literally on a horse like that is so fractured fairytale romance of her actually). and it's also the aftermath that really clues us into something deeper between him and chaghan in particular (pg. 373):

along with qara, who is SOUL BONDED TO CHAGHAN BY THE WAY, altan is screaming at him for being reckless and how he could've gotten himself killed. intentionally or not, rebecca is clearly aligning altan and qara here, and i LOVE how it's shown in the way their dialogue is formatted. you don't even know who is saying which fragment. they are one in the same when it comes to the level in which they care about chaghan's wellbeing. and also when it comes to yelling at him for being an idiot! and if that's not love then idk what is

[m4rs-ex3]

so i finally finished the book 1 novelization. after owning it for 3 years. .............................................i've been busy. anyway, let the thoughts commence!

also i only started marking sections at like ep 5 don't ask why

even CLAUDIA could tell that rayla was a cinnamon roll

stop she's incredible

a) he's a dork b) i think they should kiss

"this freckle-faced goof [gren] was going to be the easiest prisoner he'd ever encountered." is he right? yes. am i still taking offense to this? yes

"'i didn't kill anyone,' Rayla said. it surprised her that she was so proud of this fact." YAS YOU GO GIRL

these additional details are incredibly necessary thank you so much Book

"Viren blinked twice, amazed at the folly of his own offspring." i know that it's incredibly sad but goddamn that is so funny

STOPPPPPPPP I CANT 😭 the use of the word "adored" no one fucking talk to me

them

"Rayla and Callum didn't know how easy they had it, what with their long legs and no heavy dragon egg on their backs."

the way that even back then ez was already thinking like a king, even when the subject was so "not of a king's concern," for lack of a better term (why am i rhyming)

what can i even say about this oh my god

"'no, not really, dummy.' sometimes, Rayla could barely believe the denseness she had to put up with."

god i love him god i love him i l obe him i love him i love hiom oi love hiojm and everybody clapped

sometimes these slight dialogue changes mean the world to me

his autistic ass 😭

"he turned and spoke only to her." i am dying

"i've always been different. it's hard for me to make friends with other kids. i just feel like i don't fit in." -> "i've always been different. i don't really 'get' other kids, and it's... so hard for me to fit in." this is AUTISTIC CODING he has AUTISM that is IT we have autistic claudia try and tell me that this child does have the tism and that they don't fucking know that

LMAO LITERALLY KICKING ROCKS HE'S SUCH A PISSBABY I LOVE IT

this is Everything to me. i. a moment of all time. behead me

i think they should kiss pt 2

STOP THEY CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS TO ME THE SIBLINGS OF ALL TIME ISTG

"Callum lingered" "for some reason, she wanted to share what she had seen with Callum, even is she didn't tell anyone else" i. think. they. should. kiss.

"Callum glared at his brother. there was a ginormous spider in their way. many things about this situation weren't right."

SHUT UP WHAT DO I EVEN SAY ABOUT THIS. OH YOURE TELLING ME THAT RAYLA IS IN A WHOLE NOTHER CLASS FROM ELLIS AND AVA?? THAT SHE IS SO MUCH MORE THAN A "FRIEND"??? BOTH IS THE SENSE THAT HE IS MADLY IN LOVE WITH HER AND THAT HE JUST GENERALLY MEANS MORE TO HIM????? IM THEOWING U _P (hey guys i think they should kiss)

shut the fuck up. buddy. i am gagged

oh Him

damn girl's always had a problem with Layla 💀

dear christ. the matter of fact "no, this is not your fault" (4x06 "Rayla. don't."), "he couldn't let Rayla carry that burden alone" (5x04, anybody?) also i am 100% reading way too far into this but it's still callum's pov so he is the one who described her "violet eyes" and i just would like to state this for the record

and oh yeah i think they should kiss

[firesnap]

i have a genuine question. i promise i am not at all trying to defend him. ive dropped him entirely, literally deleted everything i had of him and unliked his songs.

ive just been wondering like considering that he has been in therapy, and also considering how if he does take a year off and then comes back, why cant it be redeemable? like cant people change? cant we give them second chances? he is 27. is he just doomed to be an abuser forever?

its just scary and im asking as like a younger person who is in my very early 20s. i know ive made mistakes. i know ive not been a good partner or friend sometimes. (and yes i was also abusive to a past partner...im not proud of it and ive learned from it. i have never ever touched anyone in that way after that. it took awhile but my current relationship isnt toxic and i would never hurt anyone or hit them again yknow?) and it scares me that people keep insinuating that he is irredeemable. like cant abusers change and become better? dont they get second chances? if shelby has grown and healed in 10 months wouldn't it be fair to say the same for wilbur?

im just genuinely asking because based on everything i believe you are older than me and im looking for guidance and just...idk im scared. growing up on the internet has made me so scared of making mistakes and doing anything wrong because when it happens to others i look up to, its always treated as something they'll never be able to change or improve. makes me feel like imma just be a horrible person forever because i made mistakes in the past.

This is a really complicated question that multiple answers can validly fit.

I don't think, personally, that anyone is irredeemable. I think everyone is on a journey of forgiveness and some of us may need more grace than others.

This is tw// abuse even more than the current topic, but my mom was incredibly abusive. We lived in a very rural area and she had a lot of undiagnosed problems and trauma of her own that created a pressure pot of issues. After I was born, she suffered through full on post-partum psychosis that nearly ended about as well as that sentence implies it could have. She was incredibly violent, controlling, and cruel for years. My sister went no-contact with her the second she turned 18. A significant event occurred that eventually spurned her into seeking real treatment that lasted for years. It's still ongoing.

My sister is also still no contact and I support her decision 100%. Those are her wounds and what she needed to do to get peace should be respected. I decided I wanted a relationship with the person who came out of all that work and, even then, it's been hard. I don't know if she's redeemed herself, and my god do we still have bumps in the road, but I support her for trying.

With Wilbur, how he responds to this is going to really impact a lot of things. I mean, I know no matter how he responds I won't be going on whatever journey of redemption and healing he has to go through. I'm tired and I feel hurt enough. I would think, if he wanted to show he was sincere, admitting what happened would be a great sense of closure for a lot of people who put time and energy and faith into this guy for years.

Not every person that causes harm is inherently evil, but there has to be some kind of knowledge that you're aware of the harm you've caused. No one is stuck as anything forever, life is constantly moving, and most people aren't saying his life is just over. You can work on yourself. You can change. And I'm saying that specifically to you, anonymous.

(Saying this, actually, there ARE people who would argue once you've done x you're beyond redemption based entirely on their life experiences as a victim, personal histories and many other factors. Kinda like my sister, that's their choice. And you have to accept that sometimes you fuck up so badly that you will permanently lose some people from your life. But your life isn't over.)

But I do think, regardless of what he says or does about this, his time of controlling a large platform is at an end. He can still do a lot of things in his life after he works on himself -- editing, song producing, directing, writing or whatever -- but being in charge of a large impressionable audience that could enable more destructive behaviors is just not it.

[ffc1cb]

new art blog

the short version:

1. i made a new art blog: @cbge;

2. @ffc1cb will stay up as an archive.

the long version:

hi everyone. this announcement is somewhat late, since the blog in question has been up for a few months now, and i’ve already started posting art on it. the reason it took me so long to “reveal” it is because i’ve been trying to figure out whether a new blog is something i actually want, or if it's just me throwing darts at a board, trying to make myself feel better somehow.

i don’t know when precisely it all started, but ever since sometime last year i’ve been going through a hard time, both emotionally and creatively. i’m not sure whether being depressed is what made art harder, or art becoming harder is what made me depressed (a bit of both, i think), but lately, drawing has been a struggle. 

i’ve found myself having less and less energy for art, and this lack of energy resulted in poorer quality of drawings, which resulted in me feeling like i’m getting worse at it, despite my efforts. i knew i could make good art, art that i’m proud of - i’ve done so countless times before, - but somehow it felt like i just couldn’t anymore, like my hands forgot how to. nothing looked right. 

i’ve been trying to experiment. i’ve learned some new things, tried this and that - it was enlightening, to say the least, and even though i kind of liked how it looked, it made me feel a sense of displacement. i was at odds with myself, my art, and how i felt about it, when previously i was always in sync. i was making art, yes, and it looked nice, but it felt like it wasn’t mine.

i suppose part of it was also the growing lack of engagement, and i don’t mean likes and reblogs - i never particularly cared about those. they are all just numbers to me; dry and impersonal. what i’m talking about is actual, human interactions: personal thoughts in tags, asks, replies, etc. a conversation. 

i don’t mean to sound “old” or anything, but i remember when talking to artists online was more commonplace. my wife tells me it’s because the internet culture has changed over the years, that people have become more reclusive, less willing to be open with their thoughts, and she's probably right, but in my slump i find it hard to believe. somehow it feels like it’s my fault for being less “engaging”, for seeming unapproachable or perhaps intimidating. maybe it’s “just a skill issue”, maybe it’s because i have stopped churning out fanart for popular fandoms, maybe it’s because i refuse to torture myself emotionally by having an art account on twitter (i can’t fucking stand the place anymore; i still post nsfw art there, but only because it’s literally one of the only places on the internet that allows you to do so. i miss when you could post female presenting tits on tumblr).

i have always, ever since i started posting art on the internet back in 2012, done it for human connection. i wanted to talk to people, and have people talk to me. i wanted to inspire people with my art, and i wanted to bring them comfort. i wanted to elicit an emotional response, and have people tell me about it. it was one of the main reasons i drew in the first place; having lost that, i’ve been struggling to stay passionate about making art.

i miss being a small artist on the internet during the 2010s. i remember when i could make a post going, “hey everyone, how are you all doing today?” and it would not seem weird to people in the slightest. it is just me? does anyone else feel that way? am i too deep in my own head? the internet feels so unwelcoming nowadays, especially to artists. we are all just content machines; people scroll by our stuff, or maybe look at it for half a second and leave a like before scrolling away. i know it’s unfair to demand people’s attention, especially now when our lives are already so overwhelmed by everything - no one has the energy to pay closer attention; i myself am not immune to mindless scrolling. but it feels bad. i wish we were all sincere and enthusiastic again.

anyway (sorry for rambling. i hope i haven’t bored you to death), you might want to say, okay, but how is making a new art blog on a “dying” social platform going to help with any of that? the truth is, i don’t know. i just felt like i needed a change. 

i’ve been running this blog since 2016 (that’s almost 8 full years!). i feel incredibly attached to it, but at the same time, i feel it weighing me down. 

there are people who followed me years ago for one specific thing, still expecting me to post about said thing (i still find it mindboggling that some people follow artists for a specific fandom only, but that is a whole other matter for a whole other post that i will never write). a third, if not half, of my following are probably dead blogs. and with my current struggle with trying to regain the joy i once felt for making art, looking back at all the art i’ve done over the years makes me feel tired. i still love it all; it’s all very dear to me. i’m proud of it; looking at it makes me mourn my younger and more passionate self.

so i’ve decided to make a new blog, where i will let myself post whatever i want, in whatever stage of donness i feel like. maybe it will help me, somehow. maybe it won’t. but if you care about my art, if you want to keep following me on my artistic journey, i welcome you to join me there. similarly, feel free not to - no hard feelings.

thank you everyone for your support over the years; it matters a lot to me. i’m not planning to delete or private this blog; it will stay up, and i will still be reachable on here. i will still answer asks, if there will be any. i’m just not planning to post any art here anymore. this is it for my dear old friend ffc1cb.

i can be found in other places:

@cbge, as mentioned earlier,

@k0nstanta, an art blog dedicated solely to my wife and i’s ocs,

@inquisimail, a dragon age ask blog that has become my dragon age sideblog in general,

and multiple other blogs, none of which are art related, but feel free to ask, if you’re curious.

thank you very much for reading all of this. i hope you have a wonderful day.