#the floodgates have opened i will never shut up about this now

[grind-pantera]

have any thoughts how caesar or noa would cope with jealousy?

Love how I saw I wasn't gonna post but i just cannot stop myself LOL.

Caesar.

Comes across as being incredibly put together, almost to the point where he becomes deathly reserved and like he’s simply ignoring you. Which he is not. Caesar definitely feels the need to separate himself from those types of emotions purely for the greater good of the Colony. Jealousy, especially in his mind and seeing how envious humans are and how that in itself can tear apart even the strongest bonds, was absolutely a moniker of weakness. He’d rather be tied to a tree and left to die from exposure to the elements than ever verbally admit that he was jealous. 

Reality is, despite his cold deposition, he’s about to lose it in whatever situation it is that causes the feeling to rise in him. He’s slow to jealousy out of confidence, knowing exactly how important he is, which can cause some contention in the idea that he’s being arrogant.

You’ve asked him if he was jealous after he had abruptly pulled you away from spending time with Luca. He more abrasively accepted getting that wave of protective jealousy that washed over him like the ocean; especially when you’re spending more time with other Males. Just comes from the throes of the hierarchy. You were his. His to choose, his to tear apart and delve into, his to absolutely destroy if he wanted, the nature of his hands grasping at your rib cage as you wrangled under him… Caesar shuts his eyes tightly and thinks about that. His Colony needed to know that you were only his.  His eyes said it all and you didn't know how to respond to him after he flew into a small arm of defense. “Worried,” He muttered in that typical gruff voice of his. It sent your senses sky-high, “About you…. About… What others might be… thinking…”  His hands were fast to sign at you the things that you did not understand, about how his mind worked. Telling you things about how strong he needed to be, how his Colony relied on him being the best, being the strongest and that you were heavily mistaken. He was not jealous.There was absolutely no way. Tentatively, he asks for your forgiveness after he flies off the radar like that. He bottles his emotions, especially ones that were so human by design and he knows that you meant no harm by asking him if he was jealous. He got defensive as he interpreted you asking him if he was asking if he were weak and compromised.

Caesar, late at night in the nest he now shared with you, reflecting on his emotions. He’s sleepless, sitting up and looking to the right out the crevices between the planks of wood that made his nest. His mind pattering along with the rain that was falling gently from the purple-hued sky outside. This was not just his space anymore, it yours as well. He feels you move ever so slightly next to him, grasping at an animal pelt and tucking it near your face. His green orbs admire the curves of your body under said pelt, the soft rise and fall of your breathing. There was a brush of a bite mark against your neck. He huffed out of satisfaction knowing that he had done that, maybe two or three hours ago. He had every right to be jealous of others' attention on you, he thinks to himself while looking at you. He chortled to himself, shutting his eyes in some attempt to wipe his mind of the floodgate that was opened. One thought did give him a bit of solace as you moved, now shuffling your way towards him to press tightly into his side. He’d rip the face off of any Ape who even gave you a passing glance that tip-toed the invisible line between friendliness and flirtatiousness that Caesar made in his mind.

Noa

Has absolutely no clue how to even begin to process or cope. He’s not felt this before, so he supposed it made sense that he didn't know what to do with the sickeningly addictive feeling he got when he was around you. He did things so equally with Soona and Anaya, there was never any need for blatant jealousy to arise. Well… Until you came stumbling into his life and then it happened at the most random of all moments. 

You smiling at Anaya? Absolutely feral. Noa would watch your mouth pull back before looking at his friend and then back to you. He wanted to make you smile like that. It should be towards him, he thinks almost gagging at the self-entitlement. Noa was not comfortable with that. He often fell by the waist side for everyone else’s well being. Why was he suddenly concerned so greatly with how you were reacting to others?

You getting a compliment from Soona? He wanted to give you a compliment more. He wanted to tell you things that got your heart to race, your blood to pound, your legs to fall under him as your arousal hit him, matching in crept intensity. He wanted it all.

If he notices you spending more time with others, male or female, Noa tends to gravitate towards you and stick around like metaphorical glue. The closer he is to you, he figured, the easier it was to bide his time for your attention. He’s not quite sure of how to interpret the feeling he gets when he looks at you, the way your expressions changed around others, the delicious way you threw your head back in laughter giving a wonderful display of your jugular that drew Noa’s attention almost every single time. A wash of aggressive thought would hit him and he’d love to know what that hot skin would feel like against his face. Against his teeth, marking you as his own so others were well aware to back off.  

Once the anger would teeter down, Noa was often left wondering if you’d ever smile at him like that personally. Give him the light of day, give him your undivided mind and body. Noa does very little to stop his thoughts from going off the charts and delves into the prospect of making you his own just to cure his vile curiosity if you would accept satisfaction from him. Accept his soothing. Accept him to be your mate; he felt like he was going to come undone physically just imagining that. How you must feel under his rough hands, how you would gasp at him, hands in his fur, how you would smile longingly at him as he returned from a hunting trip, pressing his head gently against your own before proceeding back to the nest you came to share... These were things he had seen other Apes doing, he wanted to experience with you. He tries to keep himself grounded while watching you and takes meager solace when you would look at him, pay attention to him. Do anything... Towards him. His jealousy would slowly dissipate with time and Noa often found himself falling into a minor state of meloncholy thinking about the prospects he had in front of him and how the only one he seemed so adversely invested in being his advancements with you.

#noa #caesar #planet of the apes #pota #kopota #kingdom of the planet of the apes #noa x reader #caesar x reader #planet of the apes x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #emmy writes

[fluffydice]

*Vibrating* Hey do you wanna hear more about my A/B/O au huh do you do you-

The main issue is that Kusuo is both 1) fully ignoring his inner omega and 2) not going into heats. His omega simply doesn't feel safe at home. (This isn't to say that Kusuo wouldn't refuse to go into heat if he could, because, he totally fucking would.) He loves his mom, yes, but his dad is also there. His dad, who forces himself into the role of the protector and gets irritated when Kusuo's omega rejects him. His presence scares his omega off. And that's not even mentioning how much worse it had been with Kusuke lived at home, or even how exposed the cameras make Kusuo feel.

If someone didn't feel comfortable letting their hindbrain unwind at home, instinct would drive them to find people they felt safe with and relax there. This often is easily achieved because people tend to automatically form packs outside of the immediate family, even as puppies. It helps them further figure out their dynamics, and offers them a support group. Unfortunately, Kusuo has only ever had one nesting mate (Essentially a term for two omegas who spend heats together. They're often very close, both in their day-to-day life and when their hindbrains are in control.) in his life before, and that was all the way back in primary school. So, he just... doesn't ever have anyone. And he doesn't have heats.

And he's fine with that. Really.

...He's lying. He's very depressed. His omega is anxious and stressed out all the time, whining about this and that, highly starved of affection. All the stress increases his own, and makes his powers more difficult to control, which increases his own stress, which then increases the need to have a heat and relax and-

Vicious cycle.

He also refuses to nest. Nests for omegas are very, very important. It's their space, theirs to protect and stay safe from things that could potentially hurt them. It's where they would cuddle with their pack, take care of sick or hurting members, and maybe even where they would keep any puppies they have with a mate.

(Oh my god, I forgot to clarify but mpreg isn't a thing here, asdfghjkl. Only people with reproductive organs can have pups. But omegas tend to have those instincts we associate with mothers today!)

Kusuo doesn't keep one because he's used to his space being violated, and he would just get so fucking upset whenever it happened that one day he realized it just...wasn't worth the trouble. Especially not if his family is just going to keep ruining its sanctuary.

The fact that he's not nesting worries Kurumi so, so much. It's a sign of general unwellness/unhappiness in omegas, whether they physically cannot build one or there's a mental block there. So, she pushes him to be with others and form a pack in the hopes it'll spur some of those long-buried instincts.

The thing of it is, Kusuo didn't latch onto his family's pack properly. His omega just didn't feel welcomed or comfortable. And Kusuo is the type to stay after being burned once, so he just never reaches out. And he expects people not to reach out, either. After all, who would want an omega that's so surly and snappish? Or even worse, one who can't properly nest or have heats?

And then Nendo arrives.

#the floodgates have opened i will never shut up about this now #saiki k abo #saiki k

[ikarakie]

what if they won? what if steve was trying to get the injured eddie out of the upside down as the gates were sewing themselves back up again? what if he knew that not everyone could get out safely, so he sends robin and nancy through. then he sends them eddie and hoists dustin after him and by the time everyone else is through, he knows there's no time.

dustin screams. he curses him out and sobs as the gate closes between them. steve promises it'll be fine, just take care of eddie, he'll be fine, but they both know he can't know that. robin looks so betrayed, so heartbroken, he can't bear to meet her eyes. just looks to the floor and tries to tune out their pleads until the gate's shut for good and he's all alone.

maybe he hadn't really thought it through. just figured his chances were better on this side than trying to squeeze through an actively closing gate and possibly being torn in half between worlds. decided that, out of all of them, he was the one who deserved to go back the least. they all had families that actually cared, that were waiting for them. they had each other, and soon enough they'd forget about him. it was all for the best.

but it still hurt. he still sat in the upside down version of eddie's trailer and wept. wished to tell dustin he loved him like a little brother, wished to kiss robin on her head one more time, wished to know if max was okay, wished that he and eddie could've become real, proper friends.

wished to know if there was something else eddie had wanted to tell him before they split off. if he'd misread things, especially after he'd pushed so hard for him and nancy to get back together. but none of that mattered anymore, because he was stuck here now.

after a few hours of crying and wallowing he gets his ass up and decides he's gonna at least try to survive for a while. he decides to stay in eddie's trailer. doesn't feel like he could make it to his own house, and doesn't even think he wants to. though he does trek to the nearest convenience store (and cries there, too, because he remembers bringing max and the kids here for snacks so many times). picks up whatever non-perishable food he can carry and then holes up.

he thinks of little will byers. cries some more, for him. so small, all alone in this place. how strong he was, how he was braver than steve ever would be, even at his young age. thinks he'd like to tell him that, if he ever could.

he's not sure how long passes. maybe days, maybe weeks. not like it's easy to tell how time goes down here. he would say he lost hope, but he never really had any hope to lose. he never intended for anyone to come and get him, made his peace with the fact he'd die here when he watched the ceiling gate close back up again. it's pathetic, how he mopes around and sits in a single spot for days on end. staring at the walls, not moving a muscle.

that's how she finds him. when he hears the door to the trailer jiggle, he just sort of thinks: ah, this is it. something's come for me. wonders if his parents will come to his funeral, if he even gets one.

it slams open. he doesn't even turn his head, doesn't want to know what it is that'll have him. just closes his eyes and waits, listens as it quietly comes towards him. crouches between his legs and- and takes his hands- what-

"steve." he opens his eyes and the floodgates start up again because it's el. her hair's buzzed again, which breaks his heart because he'd been the one to show her how to take care of it when she was growing it out. knew how proud she was of how long it'd gotten. but she's smiling so brightly, like she's won the lottery.

"el?" he asks, and he's shocked at how broken he sounds. "why are you here?"

"i have come to take you home." she says, rather matter of factly, leaving exactly zero room for argument. there's a fierce determination in her eyes, and she squeezes both of his hands.

but it's so dangerous here, he wants to say, you could've gotten hurt. why go through all of that for me?

and maybe she's been hiding mind reading powers from them, because she adds, "everyone misses you. i would have come sooner, but it took a while to get back to hawkins." then, she smiles. "i think they would have found a way even if i didn't, though."

it's like it all hits him at once. they've missed him. they've all been... looking for ways to come get him, this whole time. however long it's been. they didn't just forget about him like he wanted expected. the very idea suddenly seems so silly.

he takes a shaky breath. "well, in that case, let's not keep them waiting, yeah?" she smiles, big and happy, and nods.

part 2

#PART 2 EDDIE POV COMING SOON #stranger things #prompt #steve harrington #imagine #steddie #stranger things prompt #eddie munson #steddie prompt #steve and eddie #steddie fic #steddie hc #steddie headcanon #steddie ficlet #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington ficlet #steve and el

[bonny-kookoo]

hii!!

since you mentioned oc's period in someone older,can we have drabble related to this topic pls🙏🏽 just want to see how caring jk is

You've never really thought you'd be in a situation like this- but then again, Jungkook is surprising you constantly, so you should expect it by now.

You're sitting on Jungkook's lap right now, fully letting his front body support yours as you lean your head against his shoulder, basically clinging to him like a koala- just that you're not on his back. He's working while you rest, constant clicking of the keys from his laptop's keyboard almost like soothing background noise, helping both your headache and your nausea as you fight both simultaneously.

Sometimes, like right now when he's just browsing through Mails and Documents, one of his hands will rest on your back, occasionally even traveling beneath your soft sweater just to feel your skin.

You've told him to just leave you be on the couch, or even in the bedroom- feeling too uncomfortable to really do anything today. But he'd insisted that if you'd like, he'd want you close- just in case you want or need anything. And also, he likes your company, even if you're a little out-of-order at the moment.

You're moving around a little, giving him a little notice that you're awake again, and at that, he leans back in his chair a little to look at you. "A little better?" He asks, but you just shrug.

"I'm still nauseous." You mumble. "But I'm also hungry." Is what you complain about, making him play with the piercings on his lower lip.

"Maybe you can try something light? Just some fruit or anything you might feel like from the fridge?" He asks, unsure how to exactly help you. You've already taken some meds for it, but you've also told him that you're always a bit miserable during your period. But right now you nod, before you yawn and get up from his thighs.

"Am I really not bothering you?" You ask him, and he shakes his head as he walks to the kitchen with you, downstairs in his house. It's then that you suddenly rush into the guest bathroom downstairs, feeling the floodgates open for just a second as you slam the door shut behind you.

A knock is heard. You get ready to tell him you're alright, when his voice is heard instead. "There's some stuff underneath the sink, if you need anything." He tells you, and you reach for it, opening the tiny cabinet door- finding both panty liners, pads and tampons there.

This is so typical for him. Always prepared for anything.

Later, while he's making you tea and warms up some of the leftovers from yesterday, you realize just how.. good you feel. Emotionally at least.

"Do you like.. bigger, or smaller dogs?" Jungkook wonders as he puts down your mug of tea in front of your hands, before he sits down, oven still running as it heats up the food.

"Hm. I think, both are nice." You say, putting your hands on the cup to warm them. "I mean, your house is big, and you have an even bigger backyard. So a big dog would be fitting, right?" You tell him.

"Hm, maybe. Would you feel comfortable with a big dog?" He asks, and you squint your eyes at him.

"Are you asking me if I want to get a dog with you, mister?" You question him, and he laughs.

"Caught me. I actually have been thinking of it. A dog would be nice, right? So you're not so lonely when I have to travel again for business." He explains himself, and you shrug.

"You think we can take care of a dog together?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"I mean, we're not gonna get one like.. tomorrow. But maybe in a few months?" He proposes, and you nod.

"It'll be like having a baby." You giggle, and he laughs, watching you fondly.

"Well, right now I already have a baby to take care of."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic

[moonlight-hwa]

8:30pm ~ C. S

Synopsis: After a long and terrible day, you come home to your loving boyfriend, who is ready to comfort you no matter what.

Pairing: bf!san x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff, a little angsty

Warnings: mentions of sucky a boss, mc is on her period (I might be projecting)

Word count: 1,372 (it turned out to be way longer than I anticipated)

A/N: ummmm…so this turned out to be very self indulgent. Anyway, something to read while I work on the Wonwoo one shot.

Your day had been going absolutely horrible. First, it had all started with most terrible cramps you’ve ever had…and the painkillers you took did absolutely nothing to ease the pain, at that you felt like climbing back in bed and crying yourself back to sleep because it hurt so bad; but you couldn’t do that, you had work to get to…and that is where the second fact comes in.

     You work at a small little publishing company, with no more than 30 other people working there, its small and quaint and that’s what you like about it…but you absolutely hate your boss, he just simply sucks. Ever since you started working there, he had labeled you his assistant (even though that was not your position and never has been your position) and handed off all the work he was supposed to do to you. So, he expected you to do your actual job, plus all his work and he didn’t care if that lead you to stay late or get burned out quickly, he just wanted some one that would do his work for him.

      And the third and final thing that happened, just sent you over the edge completely, was you spilling coffee all over your desk and all over papers you had to give back to your boss. After cleaning up you had to hide out in the restroom and try to collect yourself…you refused to cry at work. So, with glossy eyes you finally left the restroom and went back to work, while always on the verge of a breakdown.

       And once you had finally made it back to you and your boyfriend’s shared apartment and shut the door behind you, that was when the floodgates opened and tears began flowing down your face; your hand moved to cover your mouth, trying desperately to make sure your sobs were quiet. You hated when you cried like this, it made you feel so hopeless and weak…the smallest of things making you cry, made you feel stupid for crying over such things.

       “Baby?” A soft voice spoke, causing your soft sobs to cease completely and your eyes to open, gaze locking with your boyfriend’s. A worried expression was painted on his features as he took careful steps toward you “What happened, darling? Why are you crying?” San asked softly as gentle hands went up to either side of your face, thumbs catching tears that continued to trail down your cheeks. You shake your repeatedly, breathing in sharply “Its-Its just so stupid.” You said through broken cries. “No, no its not stupid…it’s never stupid to cry, you have every right to cry over things…no matter how small they are, okay?” He tells you and you nod in response.

     San gives you a small smile “Now…can you tell me what’s making you cry, so I can make it better.” He says and you remain silent as you gnawed on your bottom lips, gaze staying locked with San’s comforting one. You knew you should tell him about your terrible day…you knew it would make you feel better after doing so, but you honestly didn’t want to talk about it in that moment…you just wanted to be in San’s arms and completely forget about the events of today.

    You shake your head as your vison blurs with more tears. “You don’t want to talk about it?” He confirms and you nod in response, a few tears leaving your eyes. San nods in confirmation “Okay…we don’t have to talk about, I won’t push you for anything.” He says, before pulling you into the comfort of his embrace. Even more tears fall your eyes as you burry your face in the crook of his neck, San rubs a soothing hand on your back before pressing his lips to crown of your head.

      “Do you need anything?” He asked softly, after a few moments of silence. You breathe in a shudder breath “Can you just hold me.” You simply say, tightening your hold around San’s waist and he nods “Okay, I can do that…do you want to go lay in bed?” You simply nod, muttering a soft ‘please’. And without another word San’s arms move, to where his hands were on the back of your thighs, while your arms wrapped around his neck before he lifted you up effortlessly and carried you to your shared bedroom.

       “Need anything else, baby?” San spoke once more as gently set you on your side of the bed and just as he asked that the familiar stabbing pain of cramps began again. You wince slightly “Heating pad.” You simply say and the smallest of frowns forms on his lips, immediately understanding what that meant. “Okay, I’ll go get that for you, darling.” He said with a small smile, as he stood up from his crouched position and placed a peck to your forehead, before stepping over to the closet, in search of the heating pad.

     While waiting for San to come back with the heating pad, you absently stare up at the ceiling, replaying the demanding words of your boss. You chew at the inside of your cheek, beginning to feel anxiety fill the pit of your stomach as you thought about all the things you had to get done for work; you’re so lost in your thoughts, you don’t register San calling for you and you only do so when you feel him grab your hand. Your head turns toward him and a smile forms on his lips “There she is…now tell me what has you zoned out so hard.” He says as turns on the heating pad and places it on your lower abdomen.

       “I just…I’m just feeling really anxious and stressed out.” You answer truthfully and San nods slowly “About work?” He asked in confirmation, and you nod in response “Do you want to talk about it?” He gently asked as his thumb moved across your knuckles. Your tears have long since stopped, the only thing remaining is the low pulsing of headache forming and you’ve clamed down enough to where you can talk, without bursting into another fit of tears…so in the end you nod in response. San smiles, dimples making an appearance “Okay…I’m all ears, darling.” He says.

     You breathe out a soft sigh, before finally speaking “Well…you know how Mr. Ju is,” You begin and San nods in understanding, knowing exactly how he is from the number of times you’ve talked about him. “He’s just so unbearable, lazy, annoying and he makes me hate my job…but I love my job, I love what do and I don’t want to quit because of him. But god, he makes consider it every time I come home late and exhausted.” You say, feeling frustration bubble up inside you. “Oh, and then today, on top of me starting my period and Mr. Ju being his usual self toward me…I spill coffee all over my desk…soaking every single paper in coffee. I had to go hide out in bathroom, because I almost started crying.” A frown had tugged downward on the corners of San’s lips as he listened to your words.

    You breathe out a frustrated sigh, hands covering your face “I just have so many things to do and not enough time to do them.” You say, before incoherently rambling about how you needed to redo all the things that got soaked in coffee and already existing work on top of that. “Darling.” San spoke trying to get your attention, but it proved to be fruitless…so he repeated himself, only a bit louder this time and at that he gained your undivided attention.

    “You’re at home baby…you shouldn’t be stressing so much about work while at home, you should be relaxing and enjoying your time here.” He says and you feel the stresses and the anxieties of the day begin to dissipate. “So…lets just focus on the fact that it’s just you and me, everything will be okay and if doesn’t end up being okay…then I will always be here when ever you need comfort. Okay?” You nod in response.

And in that moment you knew everything would be okay, because you had San right beside you when it wouldn’t be.

#kpop #ateez #san x reader #ateez imagines #san imagines #kpop imagines #san fluff #san angst #ateez fluff #ateez angst

[cloudcountry]

like real people do: solomon

they've seen the world shift and change throughout their long, long lives, but if they could they would have given it all up just to be with you.

~~~~~

I would not ask you where you came from I would not ask and neither would you. Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do.

~~~~~

There’s a dull ache in his back as Solomon works on his new project. It’s a memento he was to bestow upon them, yet another gift that’s meant to protect them from the demons they’re surrounded with on a daily basis. Solomon has convinced himself that if he works hard enough, he can have them for just a day longer, he can make space in the universe for just a little bit more time in their lifespan, all without directly affecting their mortality. He doesn’t want them to turn out like him. He doesn’t want them to watch everyone around them grow old and forget their face, to be a wisp of what was once human as time slips away from them.

The brothers often compare him to a demon. Though he is still a human at heart, there is very little humanity left in him.

Solomon has come to terms with the fact that he will never have a chance to truly be with them, as they’re always surrounded by the brothers and the Prince of the Devildom himself, plus the prince’s own butler and an angel that could give them far more than Solomon ever could. He cannot fascinate them with wings or shift forms to protect them, nor can he wow them with extensive knowledge of a world they are not familiar with. Though Solomon hides it well, the fact of the matter is that he will always feel inferior to everyone else that chases after their heart, and yearns for the moment when they turn their eyes to him and promise him their entire being. He wants their soul, he wants their body, he wants anything and everything they have to offer. He wants to swallow them whole and clutch them to his chest, if only to keep them safe from all the demons (and angels, too, as Simeon is just as devious as a demon) that might try and lead them astray.

Solomon takes a moment to admire the finally finished product, intertwining his fingers and thrusting his arms over his head. His joints crack pleasantly, and he pushes himself up out of the chair with a satisfied sigh. Now that the little object is complete, all he has to do is cast a protection spell on it. It’s a simple thing, just meant to keep the brothers out of their room when they want their own space, something that he knew they would appreciate on days when he wasn’t there to whisk them away from the chaos and loudness of the House of Lamentation.

It was silly to worry about him not being around, as they were the ones with a much shorter lifespan.

How silly of him to lament on such an obvious thing.

Solomon sighs again, gently lifting the precious little object into his hands.

“Spirit of affection, spirit of love, spirit of benevolence, offer your power to the object before me, so that the loved one I bestow it upon shall be protected of all they deem a threat.”

A soft glow emanates from it, and Solomon slams his eyes shut in order to pour as much love as he can into it. His heart opens like a set of floodgates holding back a tsunami, and he’s reminded of the urge to consume them whole. Fuck, he needs them. He needs them so much, every day is so much brighter with them and it’s like he doesn’t need to be lonely anymore. They’re so terrible for making him so dependent. He doesn’t know how he’ll manage anymore, not when he’s pledged his everything to you for as long as his lifespan drags on. He can only open his eyes and wish he was a better man, wish he could say for certain that he wouldn’t go digging in every spellbook he could find for a way to bring them back once they've passed.

That’s not his choice to make.

He mutters another incantation under his breath, and this one brings him right into their room. Ironically enough, he’s the one invading their room. Didn’t he make this for them so this wouldn’t happen?

Just the demon brothers, he thinks as he sets the gift on your bed, Just them.

Because obviously, Solomon is special. He means more to them.

Right?

He wants to mean more. He wants to be number one on their list, always.

He’d drop everything for them in a second if that's what they wanted him to do.

He decides to wait for them, since they’re most likely gaming with the Avatar of Envy right now. Whether they’re doing it to pacify his jealousy or because they genuinely like spending time with him, he doesn’t know. He hopes it’s just to pacify Leviathan. He wants them all to himself, being the selfish man he is.

He wishes he were a better man.

He only has to wait a few minutes more before the door clicks and swings open, their form slipping into the safety of their room. They turn around after the door is shut and jump when they see him, but they don’t scream. They smile.

Fuck, he’s in love with that smile. He wants to see it every day for all eternity.

“Hey Solomon.” they hum, approaching him far too quickly and smoothing back his hair like they’ve done it a million times before, “Do you need something for me?”

He needs so much from you.

“I wanted to give you something.” he snickers, a mischievous grin masking the fluttering butterflies in his belly, “It’s a gift. Don’t think too hard about it.”

They laugh, and he resists the urge to take them into his arms.

“Oh, when you say things like that it makes me nervous.” they shake their head, amusement evident as they take the object from him, “So, what do this one do? Prevent Beel from eating my snacks? Stop Mammon from stealing my spare Grim?”

“Even better.” Solomon chirps, “It’ll be helpful in the future, I can assure you.”

“You’re avoiding the question.” they roll their eyes, but there’s no malice behind it, “It’s never easy to get an answer out of you, huh?”

“I promise it’s nothing dangerous.” he jokes, eyes trailing after them as they sit down on their bed.

“It’s okay, Sol. I trust you.” they pat the spot on the bed next to them, an affectionate mirth blooming on their face, “You’re always doing so much to protect me...makes me want to protect you too.”

A moment of silence. Solomon doesn’t move. Sol sounds so much like Soul that it has heat creeping onto his cheeks and his pupil blown wide. Shocked by the affectionate name, he laughs.

“Don’t laugh! I know I can’t protect you as well as I'd like yet...and you’re capable of protecting yourself and me.” they murmur, holding the silly little thing he made them so gently in their hands.

“I can’t protect you from everything.” Solomon says seriously, taking their offer to sit down. He’s closer to them than he should be, he knows this, but they don’t pull away so he doesn’t either, “I can’t protect you from your own mortality. You must know this.”

Their smiling face turns equally as serious in the blink of an eye, but Solomon stands his ground. It’s an inevitability that they steer clear from, something they don't discuss even if it feels as though it’s going to break them apart. It will eventually, he reminds himself, and he has to be careful or else he’ll become too greedy and selfish and ransack the world—no, the three realms—for any way to make you just as cursed as he was.

“I can protect myself from that. I’ll find a way.” they say, so certain that they will.

It sends a shiver down Solomon’s spine.

“After all, I can’t just leave you alone, now can I?” they hum, turning away from him to place his newest project on their bedside table, “Not my Solomon. I’m staying with him for all eternity.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” he laughs shakily, desperately hoping that what they’re saying is true and that they actually mean all the things they say, because if that’s the case that means they genuinely want to stay with him for that long and he’ll never have to be alone anymore. It means that they’re willing to give up their humanity for him and the rest of their loved ones and the world they know right now.

All of it. All of it pales in comparison to him in their eyes.

He’s going to cry.

“MC...I can’t let you do that. You know I can’t.” he mumbles, reaching out for them. It doesn’t matter what he touches, he just needs to feel them, to know that they’re there and they won’t leave him even though it would be better for them if they did.

“It’s not your decision to make.” they say, and they meet him halfway with their gentle hands that hold him like he’s breakable even though he’s been through far more than they have.

“Can I not influence it a bit?” he laughs brokenly, slamming his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to look at their face.

“Not if you’re going to tell me no or all the reasons I shouldn’t stay with you.” they whisper, using their free hand to tangle their fingers through his hair and pull him into their chest, “Why are you denying yourself love? Why do you try to perpetuate this cycle of loneliness that you’ve been trapped in? I’m not saying my decision will fix everything or make it better, but I want to be with you even if it gets worse. Just trust me.”

Solomon does.

He trusts them and he believes them, so much so that that is the problem.

“I do.” he sighs, leaning into them like they’re the last person he will ever touch, “I trust you completely, and that’s the problem. I know that you’re being honest and I know you fully intend to pursue immortality, but-”

He stops to catch a breath, and they wait patiently for him as he tries to make sense of all the swirling thoughts in his mind. Even a millennia of experience wouldn’t have prepared him for what he was facing right now. He can’t let them do this. He just can't. He knows better than they do what being immortal entails, he can’t let them go down the same path.

“I…Please, listen to me.” he cries out, feeling tense behind his eyes as he begs them not to go through with it.

“I can’t just die.” they whisper. Those four words sound like shattered glass, cutting up his heart and he’s sure they’ll leave scars, whether they succeed or not.

“I know.” he concedes, head bumping against their shoulder defeatedly, “I know you can’t. I don’t want you to.”

They make a soft sound of acknowledgement, and he knows they’re aware of his internal conflict. They figure everything out so easily. He wishes they weren’t as smart.

They busy themselves by stroking the back of his head while he’s silent. Solomon leans into the loving touch, and finds himself listening to the steady thumping of their heart. It’s an unimaginable feeling for someone like him, being so close to another person, a fragile person, a person that cannot be as frivolous with their lifespan as he is.

And so he listens, and takes it all in.

Their hearts stutter.

It’s aching, he can sense it.

Despite the pain they both feel, it’s like their souls are being interconnected just by the closeness of their fragile human bodies, and he wishes their soul would be all his. He wants to feel what they feel, absorb all of their pain and sorrow so he can protect them even further.

“I’m not going to ask how you became immortal.” they mutter into his hair, giving him a gentle squeeze, “I know you won’t tell me. I’m going to figure this out by myself, and prove to you that I can handle immortality by your side.”

You can't do that is what he wants to say.

He can’t bring himself to say it.

If only he were a better man.

“I love you.” he says, and whether it’s a response to what they said or an impromptu confession he doesn’t know.

All he knows is that the reciprocated “I love you more,” is all he needed to hear.

#auburn's fics <3 #om: like real people do <3 #om x reader #om solomon #om solomon x reader #om! solomon #om! solomon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me angst #obey me x reader #obey me

[silver-ink-iron-words]

“ – and then, you see, they both hold the scale, and say – ”

“How’s it going, boss?” the henchman said, ambling into the interrogation room.

The hero sat tied to a chair, just as planned. The villain hunched across from them, head down, elbows on their knees.

“The truth potion works,” the villain said.

“That’s great, boss!”

“It would be. If ‘sharing all their secrets’ didn’t mean all.” The villain jerked their head up, glaring at the hero. “It’s been hours and we still haven’t gotten to the good stuff! [Hero]’s just been rambling about how Dragon Tales is a – what was that word you used again?”

“It’s an isekai!” the hero exclaimed.

The villain’s frown deepened. “And that’s a secret?”

“This info’s highly secret,” the hero said.  “In the wrong hands, it could destroy the light novel industry.”

The villain put their face in their hands. “What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“You can’t ask them anything more specific?” the henchman asked.

“I tried, but it never works,” the villain said. “Instead they just reveal some other secret that isn’t worth anything. Here, watch. [Hero], what are your agency’s security passcodes?”

“I have no spatial intelligence,” the hero said. “I’m banned from loading dishwashers in three states.”

The villain groaned.

“Hold on, I might have something for that,” the henchman said.

They went over to their worktable in the corner, and tinkered a bit with the potion, adjusting the ingredient levels. Then they returned, and stood in front of the hero.

“Will you drink this please?” they said softly.

The hero gulped. “Do I have to?”

“If you don’t, [Villain] will make you. And I don’t think I have to tell you that they’re in a pretty bad mood right now.”

Reluctantly, the hero drank.

The henchman returned to their boss’s side. “Okay. Try asking them something again.”

The villain returned their attention to the hero. “[Hero], what is your biggest secret?”

The hero bit their lip in an effort to keep their mouth shut.

“Oh?” The villain leaned forward with a renewed interest.

The hero shook their head rapidly, eyes afraid. The veins in their forehead stood out.

“You don’t need to hold it in, [Hero],” the villain said, smiling. “Whatever it is, you should just get it off your chest.”

The hero was changing colors from the strain. Eventually, their mouth flew open like a waterspout.

“I have a crush on [Henchman]!”

“What?” the villain and henchman cried in unison.

Once the floodgates were open, the hero couldn’t stop.

“They’re just so strong, and dependable. And they’re always so gentle. Have you noticed that? Sure, they’re rough sometimes, but only when they have to be. I have this recurring dream where [Henchman] and I are fighting, and then they pin me to the wall with their big, powerful arms, and then – ”

“Okay!” the villain yelled, bursting up. They began rushing towards the door with a beet-red henchman in tow. “We’re taking a break. We’re going to let that wear off, and then reconvene. Jesus.”

The hero had never been more grateful for a break in their life.  

#hero #villain #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero x henchman #writing snippet #snippet #writing #henchman #love confessions #truth serum #not a prompt

[444rockstargf]

Hey i’ve never sent a request before and i’m a dumbass 😭 so feel free to ignore this if it’s not rlly your speed. Basically i just want some kinda hurt/comfort with Euronymous where he’s about to leave for a gig and the reader asks if he wants them to come and he tells them they should stay home and he’s doing it for her safety but she takes it as he’s embarrassed of her because she’s not like “Metal” and she has a breakdown while he’s gone about it and he comes back and sees her crying and comfort ensues (that’s prolly the dumbest thing that’s ever come out of my mouth i’m so sorry) anyway thank you so much!! No rush obviously i love your works so much and i’ve just been in need of this trope

thank you so much for the request, anon! my inbox is open to any other brilliant ideas that you want to share :))

"one for the money, two for the show." | euronymous

million dollar man. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart @imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @randyssister @wild-rose-35

female!reader x euronymous

word count: 1.1k

contents: a tiny bit of angst, mostly fluffy, soft euronymous

“alright, baby. i’m heading out.” euronymous’ voice called out from the bedroom. he walked into the living room where you were sprawled out on the couch, eyes now wide with curiosity as he grabbed his van keys from the holder of the front door.

“where are you going, euro?” you clicked the pause button on the tv remote, stopping the program that was currently playing. euronymous pulled on his leather boots, meeting your eyes as he began fidgeting with his keys.

“i… im off to a gig, doll.” you stood up from the couch, clearing up your area and making your way upstairs. “okay, just give me a few minutes to get dressed. i promise i won’t take long.” as you went up the stairs, you felt his hand gently take yours from behind. you looked back at him, his expression more grave than before. “about that, i think it would be best if you sat this one out.” his words were soft but edged with finality.

your face fell and you looked down. “y-you don’t want me to come to your show..?” euronymous stammered. “i-i just don’t know if this is gonna be your scene, angel. this is gonna be an intense show, and with my friends and all…” his voice trailed off and you began to put things together.

his friends. the same ones who’d sneer whenever he’d show up at gigs with his arm around your waist, you two looking like the oddest pair to ever walk the street. you had to credit euronymous for acting like he didn’t care, but it surely had to bother him at least a little bit. but you’d been so inconsiderate, tagging along with him everywhere he went and not even thinking about how he felt about it.

it was all hitting you like a ton of bricks. he was embarrassed to be seen with you. and you couldn’t even blame him for it either. you looked down at your light grey oversized hoodie, pastel-coloured pajama shorts, and white knee-high socks. you’d make him look like a complete joke showing up to another show with him. tears pricked your eyes as the realization sunk in, much to euronymous’ dismay.

he snaked an arm around your waist, looking at your face. “what’s wrong, baby?” he used his thumbs to gently wipe a tear trickling down your face as he pulled you in, pressing your body into the cold leather jacket on his body. you shook your head, sniffling. “n-nothings wrong.” you walked him back down the stairs, taking him back to the front door as you forced your voice to speak as clearly as possible. “i’m just awfully tired, that’s all. have a great show…” you went on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

he nodded, giving you a half smile as he opened the front door and walked out, shutting it behind him. then the floodgates broke open. you fell to your knees, starting to heave out sobs as you heard his van drive off. giant tears rolled down your cheeks as your mind flooded with all the times you had possibly embarrassed him or damaged his reputation. but he was so sweet and kind that he’d never even said a thing.

you began to spiral, making assumptions that were built on not a single drop of evidence. as the hours passed, you paced around the living room, thinking about the whole situation. you cried until your eyes were red and your lips were all puffy, making your way back to the couch and slumping onto it. you glanced at the clock, seeing that it had been 4 hours since he’d left.

whenever you were with him, you were out for a maximum of two hours, thanks to you and how quickly you’d get tired of all the buzz. he must have been having a blast, and you couldn’t stop the tears that cascaded down your face. minutes later, the front door unlocked and euronymous walked back inside holding a pastel pink box, skin glistening slightly with sweat. usually, you’d greet him at the door with a big hug but you wouldn’t dare do that right now.

he kicked off his boots walking into the living room and seeing your puffy crying face. his eyes widened and he put the box down on the coffee table, sitting down next to you. “oh my god, angel. are you alright? what happened? are you feeling sick, did someone come into the house?” you were bombarded by questions fueled by his concern, your guilt only growing more by the second.

you heaved out a heavy sigh, looking him right in his soft blue eyes. then you spoke, your voice coming out as a hoarse croak. “i’m sorry for embarrassing you, euro…” your words clearly surprised him, but you kept on talking. “i-i don’t want to force you to take me wherever you go. i just love being around you, b-but i understand if your friends don’t like me. i just don’t fit in with you...” you looked at the ground, twirling the drawstring of your hoodie as you felt his gaze on you. then without warning, both his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug. 

you froze, your heart hammering in your chest at this unexpected act of affection. you could feel his heavy breath against your neck, the sound of it stilling your nerves. after countless minutes he pulled away, hands resting on your shoulders as he looked at you with sad eyes. “my sweet, beautiful angel. i would never be embarrassed of you. i must be a damn awful boyfriend for making you think that in the first place.” he used his calloused fingers to wipe away your tears.

you took a good look at his face, finally noticing the several cuts on it that weren’t there before. you traced your finger along a long slit on his jaw, making him wince a little. he spoke, his voice even softer than before. “it was a really dangerous show tonight. there were glass bottles flying all over the place and fires everywhere. i thought of bringing you with me, but i just couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt out there.” 

you felt a wave of stupidity wash over you. so you had the wrong idea all along. euronymous chuckled slightly as your face lit up, picking up the pink box from the coffee table. “don’t you wanna know what’s in here?” he shook the box a little, making you fill with anticipation. he took off the lid, revealing a large slice of your favourite cake.

he brushed a few strands of hair away from his face. “i had to go all around town to find a bakery that was open at this hour. it took forever but here you go, baby.” your eyes welled with tears once more, but they were joyful instead of sorrowful. you wrapped your arms around his neck, peppering small kisses all over his face until he held your waist, connecting his lips to yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss.

author's note: yall should never ever have any doubts when sending me requests. I'm always in love with absolutely everything i get sent! (that follow my guidelines ofc)

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #euronymous #lords of chaos #eurorory #euronymous rory culkin #eurory #fluff #rory culkin fluff #born to die #born to die paradise edition #lana del rey

[portaltothevoid]

you're losing me -- terzo x reader

A/N: so.... yeah.... ghost has taken over my life. i had this idea, i was thinking of it like i was writing it, and i wrote it! so here's my first lil entry into the ghost fandom. hi! i have an idea for a part two so... if this does well and you want one? let me know?

song: you're losing me by taylor swift

warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, allusions to mutual cheating, terrible communication (please talk about your feelings), fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

You’d been putting this off for a while. Constantly snapping. Constantly hiding. Hiding the fact you were in pain, the fact that pain caused you to act in ways, to do things, you never thought you would. There were some sins, even in this satanic church, that weren’t to be celebrated. One of which you had committed and, from the looks of your observant eyes, so had he. Yet, you couldn’t stand the guilt just as much as you couldn’t stand being casted into the shadows any longer. 

“That was some party, eh, amore mio?” he asked, snaking his hand around your waist. 

The only response you were capable of giving was a stiff smile. He couldn’t just see the fakeness oozing from your features, he could feel it. You’d been silent the whole walk back to your shared quarters. Most of the time you’d swear he never noticed you, but he did. As soon as you both were away from the prying eyes of the others, he saw you deflate. Your shoulders slumped, your features all but turning to stone. He was never one to pry. He was always afraid of the emotions difficult conversations would bring up. It was just something he never knew how to handle. A side effect of always being on display.

Tonight was different. Lately, it seemed there was always tension radiating off you. All he wanted was for you to come to him and tell him what’s wrong. Yell at him, if you had to. Something. Anything. Anything other than this. So his hand slid to the other side of your waist as he turned himself in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. Quickly, he placed his other hand on you, steadying you. His eyes scanned your face for any sign of life, pleading with you to tell him everything.

You sighed defiantly. “The party was great. You really outdid yourself this time.” A lie and a truth. The party was torture. The only way he outdid himself was by sneaking away three times, twice with different Sisters of Sin, and once with a Ghoul. Even when you tried to ignore it, somehow you instinctively always looked up just as he was headed out the door, to somewhere more private, more quiet. Every time it chipped away at your now calloused heart.

“Why are you being like this?” he asked softly.

“Why am I being like this?” you repeated. “Why are you like this?” You shook your head as you pushed him aside, briskly walking the few paces to your chamber doors, leaving him stunned momentarily. The door was almost shut before he caught up.

You had stormed off to your bureau, alreadying having started to take off your ornate garnet jewelry. You ignored him when he entered the room.

“Cara mia, per favore. Talk to me. I…” he trailed off as he reached for your shoulder with a trembling hand. 

You swatted his hand away. “Don’t,” you said harshly as you turned around, hurrying, as if you couldn’t get away from his touch fast enough, over to the walk-in closet to change out of your dress. 

He gave you a few moments, not daring to push his luck. You had changed quickly. Staring at yourself in the floor length mirror, you didn’t see the rage you felt bursting inside. All you saw was sadness. The shell of your former self. You stared at yourself with your hair pinned up, perfectly placed stray hairs framing your face, your black t-shirt, and merlot colored sweatpants. You hated everything about this moment. 

The floodgates have opened.

Behind you, you saw him leaning on the door frame. Your eyes met in the mirror. 

“What have I done to make you hate me so much?” he whispered.

You spun around. The fury of hell shone in your eyes. “You really don’t have a fucking clue, do you?” you said, charging past him.

“So… so you really do hate me?” 

“I can’t– I can’t do this anymore, Terzo!” You’ve never seen this man look more hurt than he did right now. He was searching for an answer, for a hint, for something that might explain how everything had led up to this point. You took a few deep breaths before you finally told him everything that you had kept locked deep inside. “I can’t watch you flirt with everything that walks on two legs anymore. I can’t watch you sneak out of rooms with someone else’s hand in yours. And– and– and I know you’re the Papa now, but… There used to be an us. We used to be a team. It was you and me. You… you made me feel special. For the first time in my life I felt seen. After that mitre went on your head, it’s like the spotlight blinded you. You haven’t even seen me at your side, because you pushed me back into the shadows.”

“I have never lost sight of you, tesor–”

“But you have, Terzo. You have. Ever since you got the Grammy for the Church… It’s felt like… the only time you even acknowledge me, the only time I’d ever be special to you, is behind these closed doors. At the parties, you dance with me once and then you’re… you’re batting your eyelashes at every other person who looks at you. I can’t follow you around anymore and be ignored. I’m not you’re fucking shadow!”

“Why have you never told me this before? Why haven’t you talked to me about this?”

“I’ve tried. I’ve asked you to include me more. I’ve asked you to– I gave up begging for your attention. For your affection.”

“But you know how I am, you knew what you signed up for.”

“No. I knew you were a flirt. But this? I never signed up for this.”

Terzo felt the tears start to sting his eyes. While he never purposely meant to push you away, now that you’ve said it, he knew exactly what he did. He took for granted the one person he wanted… no, needed by his side. But he wasn’t all that oblivious. He’d seen you sneak away just as you had seen him.

“And how do you think it felt when I would watch you sneak away? You think I don’t know why you don’t come home some nights? Hmm? What do you have to say to that?” he challenged.

“‘Why have you never told me this before? Why haven’t you talked to me about this?’” you echoed mockingly. “Because I wanted to be where I felt wanted, where I felt like my feelings were reciprocated. I wanted to be where I felt like a queen. I needed to feel loved.” Your words dripped with venom, but he scoffed at them.

“Oh, please, this is a church not a monarchy.”

“But don’t the two go hand in hand? With the way you’ve been acting, I never would have known there was a difference,” you spat.

He felt like a knife had been plunged into his heart and it just kept going deeper and deeper.

“Tell me how it started. Tell me what made you seek solace in someone else,” he demanded.

“After I caught you with Sister Thérèse. I just ran. I ran and couldn’t even see where I was going, because of how hard I was sobbing. I collided with someone around a corner who had come to see what was the matter. He kept your secret. He hasn’t told a damned soul. So I knew he would keep mine.”

There was nothing left to say. Nothing left to do. The damage was irrevocable. Any semblance of this relationship was left asunder. Terzo couldn’t move. The weight of his actions, and lack thereof, immobilized him. You wasted no time walking around him, back into the closet. Grabbing a good-sized duffle bag, you started filling it with clothes and a couple pairs of shoes. You walked over to the bathroom and tossed in various toiletries. Walking around him once more, you unplugged your phone charger from your side of the bed, before going to the bureau and sliding your phone in your pocket. Once the bag was zipped and slung over your shoulder, you made your way to the door.

Too wrapped up in your haste to leave, you didn’t hear the footsteps padding behind you on the carpet. It wasn’t until you felt his hand grab yours did you turn around. 

“Who is it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Who makes you feel like a queen, feel… loved?”

You hesitated. Only for a brief moment. The man in front of you held the most power out of everyone here at this Ministry. But there was no way you or who you were going to could be implicated without Terzo implicating himself. Looking him dead in the eye, you told him, “Cardinal Copia.”

The second the words left your mouth, he dropped your hand. The door felt heavy as you opened it and it shut behind you. Tears sprung in your eyes and began to fall, cascading down your face. You were only a few steps away when you heard glass shattering against a wall.

part ii

#the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x fem!reader #papa emeritus iii x female reader #terzo x female reader #the band ghost angst #terzo angst #papa emeritus iii angst #you’re losing me

[akystaracer22]

Ruthlessness is Mercy Upon Ourselves

Synopsis: Vaggie and Adam talk about mercy and each other. It doesn’t go in any direction they thought it would.

Notes:

TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence – I’m ripping someone apart. TW: Death

Oh man this one’s fucked up.

Vaggie opens the floodgates.

There is now a reason the archangels are like this and it’s fun and fucked up.

Mindflayers are my favorite DnD enemy btw.

Bit more unreliable narrator Adam here too.

Sorry this one took so long, had relationship issues, six dnd campaigns and six assignments at uni to work through so I’ve been a little busy.

Word Count: 1674

Adam found her on the roof of the hotel, as he expected.

Vaggie’s wings were out, lax against her back as she looked out at… the outskirts.

Adams domain. The growing garden as Lucifer was so fond of calling it. There was a tension in her shoulders and Adam quietly dismissed Echo behind him. There's not going to be a fight today, he could handle this.

He made sure his steps echoed on the ground as he walked up beside her, brushing her wing with his own on instinct before folding them under his arms like normal.

It was silent for a little while, Vaggie refused to look at him while Adam got his thoughts in order.

The leader of the exorcists sighed; this was going to suck.

“I’m not going to apologize for what I did that day.”

Vaggie pushed herself away from the railing immediately, Adam’s arm reaching out at the last second to grab her and keep her from fleeing, “Let me finish.”

“You-”

“I will never apologize for making that call, but I am sorry for the pain that decision caused you,” Adam continued, “I didn’t want to do it, but I would do it again if I had to.”

“You’re not sorry,” Vaggie snapped back, her wings mantling behind her threateningly, “Don’t try and act like it with that kind of apology.”

“Listen to me,” Adam pressed, keeping his voice as even as he could, “Just- give me a chance to explain.”

“Explain what,” Vaggie retorted, straining against Adam's grip, “What the fuck is there to explain.”

“You weren’t the first exorcist that showed mercy,” Adam spat out, his gut twisting in panic as he spoke quickly, “You were just the first one that heaven didn’t get its hands on.”

That made Vaggie pause, looking him in the eyes and faltering when he held the gaze steadily, “What?”

Adam sighed; he was right this was going to fucking hurt. The fallen angel sat down and patted the space next to him, he couldn’t do this standing up.

“Sit down kid, this has been a long time coming.”

He was right, this was going to suck.

Adam stretched as he took a moment to break during the extermination, swinging his axe over his shoulder as he looked around.

Annie was chasing a sinner down the street, flanked by Rumi and Dawn as the exorcist's cackles echoed through the city.

Charlie, Delta, and Echo soared overhead, having finished up their area and likely headed to help Lute, Fei, and Netto in their area.

Vaggie darted out of an alleyway and used her spear to break through a door to get to the sinner’s inside.

Wasp-

Adam looked down and saw Wasp standing over a sinner, her wings shaking as her rapier clattered to the ground.

She said something and the Sinner ran away deeper into the alley disappearing around a bend.

Adam sheathed his axe and jumped down, picking up Wasps rapier as he pulled his girl into a hug, shielding her as she broke apart.

Vaggie glared at him, “So you’re saying that if anyone else shows mercy to a sinner, fine, but when it’s me-”

“Would you kindly shut up and let me continue?”

“…”

Adam sighed again.

Adam stayed with Wasp for the rest of the extermination, keeping out of the fight and making sure his kid was okay.

“You don’t have to participate in the exterminations again if you don’t want to, all right? I bet I can get the higher-ups to make an exception.”

“I- I’d like that,”

Adam smiled reassuringly down at the exorcist as they touched down at the entrance to heaven. The angel paused once he and Wasp headed past the golden gates, blinking a couple of times in mild surprise.

Gabriel was waiting at the gate, grimacing when he saw them. Adam instinctively stood a little straighter, pulling Wasp closer to him with a wing.

What did he want?

“Adam, Michael wants to see you two.”

“Why didn’t anyone see this,” Vaggie questioned, giving Adam a hard glare, “If the archangel Gabriel was there-”

“Because Archangel Gabriel has that effect on people, you only see him when he wants you to. Unlike his siblings, the messenger angel is a lot more subtle.”

Adam stepped into the golden hallways of the Ancient Archangel’s home; the glittering palace located in a secluded area high up in the city. Adam had already been to the palace many times for meetings or when Michael wanted an in-person report for the exterminations.

He didn’t know why they wanted to see Wasp as well though, but it did make things easier for him.

“Michael will see you now,” One of the servants said with a doll-like smile, moving to guide the two angels through the halls, Adam was dimly aware of Gabriel flaking off into his part of the palace.

“Do you know what’s going on, sir?”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out,” Adam stood a little straighter and pulled Wasp behind him as the doors to Michael’s office opened and they stepped inside.

The windows were dimmed, and the room was lit solely by the halos in the room and the chandelier on the ceiling. Michael was pacing the back of his office before turning to face them.

The hair on Adam's neck rose at the dangerous look on the archangel’s face. That wasn’t good.

“Do you have any clue how much trouble you two have caused?”

“So that’s it? You talked to archangel Michael and Wasp went into hiding?”

Adam swallowed thickly and shook his head, raising his wings from where they rested to cover himself slightly from anxiety.

“No- he… he didn’t listen to reason.”

“I promise you that Wasp is very capable to keeping to herself and-”

“Enough!” Divine magic lanced through the room and slammed Adam against the wall, Wasp drawing her rapier before being disarmed by the warrior archangel and restrained with magic.

“I cannot risk this compromise to heavens security,” Michael spat, his halo glowing brightly and casting sharp shadows on his face, “Not on something as fickle as a promise.”

The archangel turned to Wasp; wings mantled as power gathered around him.

“No matter, just as easily as I created you and your choir, I can just as easily unmake you.”

Wasp screams were beaten only by Adam as Michaels magic proceeded to tear her soul apart.

Adam strained against the magic chains holding him in place, all pretences of composure gone as he fought against Michael’s magic keeping him in place.

His heart raced as he saw and heard Wasps ligaments tear, bones snapping as Michael ripped into Wasp to get as her soul. Ichor painting rivers in the marble as Wasp screamed in agony. A shower of golden blood marking her arm giving way to the pressure and tearing from her body.

“DAD-!”

Adam’s eyes widened at the title his exorcist- his daughter screamed out; she was calling to him.

Adams magic cracked against Michaels as he strained against the chains constricting him, he needed to get to her he needed to save-!

“WASP!”

Michael pulled on his magic, the power ripping through her chest before extracting her soul and crushing it.

Adam could only stare at the space his daughter used to be, bile rising to the back of his throat as sickness overtook him.

“What a shame such a defect manifested itself and infected you,” Michael’s voice cut through the air as he spoke to the dead, chilling in its apathy as he inspected the golden blood on his hands, “I’ll have to scrap the Exorcist choir as a whole and start from scratch to prevent a repeat of this incident.”

Adams blood froze as he jerked his head up to stare at Michael in horror, he couldn’t be serious.

The head archangel sighed and walked towards the door, hand reaching up to pull on the doorknob. He was serious.

“Wait!”

Michael paused, his hand pulling away as he glanced over at Adam, “Hm?”

“I- She’s the only defect, I swear on my soul Wasp was the only one.”

Michael turned to look completely at Adam, “And if this… mess, becomes a repeat occurrence?”

Adam swallowed thickly as he met the archangel’s gaze.

“Then I swear on my very existence that no exorcist who shows mercy will ever see the light of heaven again.”

Michael pulled back, something almost fond flashing across his face as he nodded, “Then we have an agreement.”

“And that was that” Adam finished shakily, keeping his gaze anywhere but on Vaggie as he tried his best to hide himself with his wings, “That- that’s it. That’s the story.”

“I-”

Adams breathing picked up and he scrambled to his feet, this was such a stupid idea, “I’ll get out of your hair now, go and bother the jumping spider or some shit-”

Vaggie grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a hug.

The leader of the exorcists froze, going stiff in the other angels hold before shuddering and sinking into the hug, his wings instinctively wrapping around his girl as he held her close and fell apart in her arms.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

“Lucifer, honey, can I borrow you for a moment?”

The king of hell startled and whipped around to greet his wife with a smile, “Yes! Of course! Whatever you need dear!”

“Ah, in private, if you would,” the queen of hell requested with a smirk as she glanced over Lucifer’s head, “I don’t think I’m comfortable having Charlies… friends, listening in.”

The fallen angel nodded and snapped his fingers, whisking the two of them away to their room. Lucifer nudged a stray duck out of the way as he lead his dearest to a table, “So! What do you want to talk about?”

Lilith sighed before speaking, “I overheard a conversation between Adam and his daughter, Charlies girlfriend daughter.”

“Oh”

“Lucifer, it’s about your brother, Michael.”

#hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #worldbuilding #writing #angst #hazbin hotel lucifer #adamsapple #lucifer hazbin hotel #lilith hazbin hotel #lucilith #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin exorcists #hazbin hotel exorcists #dadam #tw: death #ashes to ashes dust to dust

[cybertron-after-dark]

oooo kimmie, can you tell us about the tfa and rb overlap?

Everyone prepare yourselves bc the floodgates are opened and now I'm never going to shut up about this

In a meta context, there's SO much overlap between the shows. A lot of the same people worked on it, especially the writers, and it 100% shows. Mr. Marty Isenberg you are not slick.

In terms of the actual content of the shows though, the similarities are overflowing.

First and foremost, the emphasis on cultural differences and exchanges with the human-bot relationships. TFA had a good bit of it and it was very very fun every time it happened (bots not really knowing what level of self defense is appropriate to teach a child, being very confused about what exactly humans eat, bee picking up video games, bulkhead picking up art, ALL that good shit), but you don't always get to focus on it with all the action and political intrigue going on. And while rescue bots has its share of intensity, there's a lot more space for the mundane interactions. Blades being tv obsessed, the bots celebrating Allspark day, boulder's love of just Everything on earth. They had a whole episode just about teaching the bots to fish.

There's also the fact that everyone on griffin rock is a little bit Unhinged in a lot of the same ways the humans kicking around Detroit are. Just. Vaguely Weird Vibes in very funny ways. And the same tendency to switch from revering the emergency services which they may or may not know the bots are part of to wildly distrusting them on a dime. Optimus would not leave an encounter with Mrs Nederlander unscathed bro. I don't know if any of the bots could.

Speaking of humans, the villains in rescue bots feel like what the tfa human villains could have been if not for being wildly overshadowed by the decepticons. Evan and Myles? I think you mean Henry Masterson's shitty cousins he only interacts with through the CoD lobby. Madelyne Pynch? That's just girlboss Porter C. Powell. Quint Quarry? Sir that is Master Disaster if he existed for more than like two minutes of a singular episode and bagged more than one bot. Dr. Morocco? Meltdown but better at, like, everything (especially lab safety).

Then there's the constant state of both teams grilling the hell out of each other All The Time. Chaotic. Absolute Creechurs. They love each other so much but they also all live in close contact and see each other all the time and thus they are So Mean To Each Other (though they're a bit meaner in tfa just bc older audience)

The Sumdacs and the Greenes being two duos of an absentminded but well meaning technological genius and his intelligent and Highly Cool pigtailed daughter who both have to deal with the dad's tech going completely out of control is pretty on the nose too. (Oh God now I'm just imagining an au where tfp starscream successfully gets rid of Megatron after the space bridge explosion and sends him hurtling towards earth and crashlanding right on griffin rock whee doc green finds his head. Can you imagine. The misery of tfp Megatron having to deal with a human. He's having several mental breakdowns, 100%)

Even Cody and Sari have a lot of similarity as characters. Cody is a lot more mild mannered compared to the absolute Gremlin that is Sari, but they both still struggle a lot with wanting to help but feeling too small to make an impact, even though they matter so much more than they could ever know. They're surrounded by heros, giants, and it's hard for them not to feel like they're fading into the background. And when both their families realize how they've been making those kids feel they put so much effort to make sure they're loved and feel like their efforts matter. It's the same arc in different forms. And it's so good both ways.

Overall they're both shows that feel like they're trying to say similar things to different audiences. That Earth is wonderful and worth protecting. That any effort can make massive differences, even if you don't feel like you can do enough. That a hero can come from somewhere humble, and the best ones usually do. That people deserve kindness and a genuine effort at understanding. That nobody is without value.

And honestly? That what I love most about both of them.

#maccadam #transformers #tfa #rescue bots #oh also theyre both gay as hell and have really good autistic/neurodivergent rep #prowl pouncing directky on bumblebee and making him blush 🤝 blades talking about sexy hot vampire dudes #im gonna write proper crossover headcanons later

[azsazz]

Not Me

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Request from @in-some-fandoms : omg what about some hurt fic where azriel says someone’s name (elain/mor/qwyn) while having sex with the reader ? i’m in need to cry 😂

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,864

_________________________________________

Your gasp turns into a moan when he presses into you at a new angle, arching up into his warm, muscular body, his hand grasped firmly in yours, pinning you to the bed. He kisses harshly down the column of your throat, sucking marks into your skin that will last for days, a reminder to him and everyone who sets their eyes on you who gets to bed you. 

He’s pushing closer to the edge with every thrust, you can feel the pleasure pulsing through the bond and you revel in it, high off of the euphoria of emotions coursing through you, nearing you to your own orgasm.

Azriel is slamming into you now, chasing that feeling once more, only the one you and your gorgeous body can give him. He’s grunting breathlessly into your ear, each exhale curling a warm caress around your ear and you shut your eyes tightly as shivers make their way down the side of your neck from the sensation.

His hips stutter and he gasps against your skin as he releases into you, “Fuck–Gwyn.”

And your heart plummets in your chest.

You feel utterly sick at what he’s just said, struggling underneath him as he tries to get ahold of you when he realizes his mistake. He hisses when you manage to push him off and his cock slips out of you, his orgasm still wracking his body.

He calls out for you as you slip out of the bed as fast as you can, heart in your throat and biting your lip so harshly it starts bleeding, but the cries you so desperately want to let out stay trapped within your shaking body.

Azriel is too late, and he desperately slams up against the bathroom door you’ve just shut yourself in, collapsing on the other side.

You feel utterly disgusting, with his seed dripping out of you as you curl up into yourself, heart slamming in your chest and ears ringing with the words that escaped his mouth. 

He had said another female's name. Not just any female, one that he had been known to seek out before he’d met you. 

“(Y/N), please, Love, just listen to me,” he pleads. His knocks are gentle but his words are not, desperate for you to hear him out.

You can feel his regret bubbling in your own body, and it’s too much. You’re already feeling awfully betrayed and hurt beyond words, never did you think of Azriel the type of male to do something like this, but as you listen to the banging on the other side of the locked door, you know you need to get away.

You can’t think like this, can’t wrap your mind around what just happened. He hadn’t shown any signs of wanting anyone else, in fact you were so confident in the bond that you’d accepted it only after a few meetings.

All of the lovely things that his family had said about him, the amazing things he’s done for you, all it means is that he was trying to keep you happy while he was thinking of a different girl.

You had even considered yourself friends with Gwyn, and you knew that Azriel was quite the  beauty. If you had to fight off all of the females that made eyes at him you’d be stuck in a constant battle. But perhaps the soft teal eyes and shy smiles from the auburn haired priestess were mistaken, maybe they were actually suggestive glances and sultry smirks, trying to pry the two of you apart.

“Go away,” you choke, the first hot tear sears down your cheek and then the floodgates open. You sniffle, trying to swallow back your emotions until you’re alone, “Leave me alone.”

“Please,” he begs, and the fear in his voice nearly steals your breath away. He almost sounds sincere.

You shake your head, rubbing your eyes frustrated, “I don’t want to see you.”

“It’s not what you think,” he tries, and you swear you can hear the thickness in his voice, like he’s about to cry as well.

You stumble to your feet before hearing him like that, an absolutely broken male, has you opening the door against your better judgment. You turn the knobs to the tub, the water raging in loudly, splashing against the stone bottom, drawing out his pleas.

And it’s when the knocking on the door and his requests fall silent that you allow yourself to break down. Sitting on the cold side of the tub, feet planted firmly into the cold floor beneath your feet, nude as the day you were born, you sob like you’ve never sobbed before.

__________

It was only when you had run out of tears that you filled the tub with scalding hot water and settled in, eyes puffy and throat sore from your cries. 

You scrubbed at your skin, wanting to wash away his touch, his scent. It was all over you, his musk, the one you couldn’t get enough of was now making you sick to your stomach.

The only thing you couldn’t rid yourself of were the bruises he’d kissed so lovingly into your skin. You shuddered at yourself in the mirror as you brushed through the tangles in your hair, pulling the strands away from the tender marks.

Was he thinking of her even while he did that? You didn’t want to know.

You move quickly, dressing in warm clothes and letting the house guide you to the door. Azriel was away, where you didn’t care to find out. Maybe he’d already gone to Gwyn. You swallow the lump in your throat at the thought as you take off down the street, the lights of the Townhouse becoming dimmer the farther you get into the heart of Velaris.

Winter had just begun but you felt like you were in the heart of the season with the harsh winds and damp hair. You had  bundled up but not enough, your teeth chattering and finger numb as you maneuvered the empty streets, trudging through the few inches of snow that lie on the ground, as pure and bright as your relationship with your mate had been. You stomp extra hard through the powder, kicking the sticky clumps down the street as you go.

There was one thing you were thankful for in this moment; that you’d kept your own apartment even after your mating ceremony with Azriel. It was nice to have a place of your own, somewhere to go while he was away on missions. While you loved the rest of the Inner Circle they didn’t seem to have many boundaries, and you liked to have time to yourself.

Kicking the door shut and locking it behind you you set the hearth ablaze, slipping out of your sopping wet boots and coat, snagging your favorite thick-knit blanket off of the couch and settling down by the fire. You keep your mind focused on getting warm instead of the burning anger within you.

But the feeling couldn’t be doused. How could he do such a thing? You couldn’t seem to wrap your mind around it still. Azriel never seemed like the type. But he was the most secretive person in all of Prythian, so how would you have even guessed?

Everything weighs heavily on you, crying your eyes out after you locked yourself away from him, trekking through the cold city to your apartment. The warmth of the fire hugging you tightly lulls you to sleep.

__________

“I’ve been looking for you all over Velaris,” he starts, and you go to slam the door in his face but he catches it with his boot and holds it there. You know he won’t force his way in, that he’ll leave if you want him too, but his hazel eyes are pleading and he looks like he hasn’t slept since you left two days ago. Like all of this was just as hard on him as it is on you. 

“How did you find me Azriel?” you ask tiredly, taking your time and assessing his bloodshot eyes, rimmed with purple. His shadows had skittered around him lazily until you opened the door, then they had perked up and had aimed straight towards you, excited to see you. But the shadowsinger had reigned them in, and now they swirled around him angrily, one even going so far as to swat at Azriel’s head.

He glares at the shadow and rubs the back of his head, “I’m a spymaster,” he says like it's answer enough.

You give him a pointed look and say instead, “You’re right. I should’ve asked you what you’re doing here.” You shove into the door with good measure.

“(Y/N),” he winces. He hadn’t spoken your name out loud since you’d ordered him away that night. He had fucked up majorly, he knew that, and his shadows knew it too. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t get them to do the things they normally would, and they searched for you every room he entered. They missed you as much as he did, and he scoured the town for any signs of you, cursing himself for teaching you the little about being unoticeable that he did.

A natural spy, you were.

“I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I am so sorry, Love,” you flinch at the pet name, “Please let me explain.”

“As far as I’m concerned there’s nothing to explain,” you respond, still keeping your weight firmly behind the door, “You said someone else’s name, Azriel. I was there. I know what happened.”

“I didn’t mean to say her name,” he pleads, and you roll your eyes because of course he would say that he didn’t mean to. 

Azriel sighs but removes his boot from where it’s jammed in the entryway, “I won’t force you to listen to me (Y/N),” and you go to shut the door on him but he isn’t done speaking, tugging sharply on the bond to snag your attention, pausing you in the act for only a moment. “But that bond that we have? It’s exactly the reason that I’m right here now, and will be until you hear me out. You are mine, (Y/N), you hear that? You are the only thing I want and will ever want. So you can shut the door on me now, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be leaving.”

And the look in his eyes was so honest that it hurt you to shut the door on him, but it was something that needed to be done. You still couldn’t think about him without remembering what he had done, the words that had spilled from his mouth. 

***

For three days he sat outside of your apartment, and for three days you tried to get him to leave.

It was as if you could feel him on the other side of the wall as you lay in your bed, sheets tucked up high underneath your chin, struggling to find solace in the night. You knew he could sense your emotions through the bond, that he was not sleeping either, the floor hard underneath his ass.

But you also knew he wouldn’t give up. He was the spymaster of the Night Court, born with endless patience and determination. 

Your neighbors had even complained, your landlord tacking a note to your door about removing the Illyrian brute from the hallway as he was scaring the tenants, and that if you did not remove him, you would no longer have an apartment.

That’s what had finally done it. That and the fact that you missed him so dearly, knowing he was just on the other side of that door, waiting for you. He had stewed in his thoughts for long enough, you decided, as you pulled the door open late one night and he was perched on the ground, hands folded in his lap like sitting against the wall was the most comfortable thing he’d ever sat on.

His head rolled to the side on his shoulders, peering up at you as you stood in the threshold of your home, nodding into the open door so that he’d follow you. 

He does without a sound.

“Sit,” you offer, waving your hand to the spot across the couch from you. You can hardly look at him, wishing you had something to occupy your jittery hands other than the fabric of your nightwear.

The utter silence is unbearable, so you look at him pointedly to begin speaking, heart spiking with hurt when he jolts beneath your harsh lgaze.

“While we were…” he trails off, trying to find the right thing to say.

“Fucking?”

“Making love,” he protests, eyes hard and flinching at the word you’d suggested. If he truly had wanted Gwyn, then the only way you could have described what the two of you were doing was fucking.

You sit back in your seat and cross your arms over your chest, ignoring the pang of hurt you know is coming from your mate across from you.

“Rhys mind-spoken to me that Gwyn was injured,” he rubs his nervous hands against his leathers, the siphons atop of them shining dully, but his eyes stay locked on yours, honest and true. You still for a moment, eyes widening at his admission. She was hurt?

“How badly?” your voice wavers at your question. You knew about Gwyn, she had told you herself, and you hadn’t wanted any harm to come to her.

He shrugs, “She was on a mission with the Valkyries,” he licks his lips, “She had a pretty bad cut across her back and Rhys needed me to bring her back to be healed. Winnowing was the quickest and safest option.”

“Is she okay?” your stomach is in knots for another reason now. You were furious that it was her name he had said, but you were still worried for the priestess. 

“She’s going to be fine, but I’m more worried about you,” he gently takes your hand in his and you let him, “I am so sorry (Y/N). I’m sorry for saying her name, because I know how it must’ve seemed. If it were a males name that came from your mouth instead I would’ve burned the world down in rage.” He shakes the thought from his mind, “And I’m sorry for leaving you afterwards, I had to bring her to the healers. But I came right back after and you were gone.” You can hear the devastation in his broken voice. You had felt the fear burning in your own soul when he’d found out that you had gone, it rivaled the feelings of betrayal brewing within your own.

“It slipped. I promise on the Mother that I wasn’t thinking of another female, all I ever do is think about you in any capacity at all times of the day. I love you, and my body and soul is yours to do with as you please.” Words are caught in your throat, you don’t know what to say, so he keeps speaking, a desperate plea, “So break it if you must, but I will never stop loving you (Y/N), not even until my last breath and I become one with the Earth.”

“Azriel,” you breathe. And how can you not believe the male in front of you, begging with his heart and soul, baring it to you so openly, and letting you take the final blow or mend his heart. He knows he’s done wrong, admitted it fully, and explained what the mistake had been, that it wasn’t your fault, that he knows what he’d done wrong.

He waits patiently, eyes big and round, hands tucked firmly around yours. 

“I understand now,” is what you go with because you don’t really know what else to say. You know that you won’t be telling him that it’s okay, and by the way his eyes soften and his wings sag, he knows you aren’t going to say that either. “I accept your apology, and it better not happen again.”

“It won’t,” he replies, quickly and eagerly as you tug him up from his spot on the sofa and lead him towards your room. You settle down into your bed, the one that’s felt so empty since you’d been alone, pulling on his hands to let him know it’s okay to follow.

Azriel slips out of his boots and leathers quickly, climbing in next to you, pulling you closer to him. His warmth seeps into your skin and you already know you’re going to have one of the best slumbers of your life now that your mate is back.

“I love you so much, (Y/N),” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss against your forehead, “More than you could ever know.” And he lets you feel it through the bond for a moment, the way you make him feel, and it’s enough for your breath to catch in your throat and your eyes to fill with tears.

“I love you too Az,” you sigh, shutting your eyes, “I love you too.”

#Azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #acotar #acomar #acowar #acomaf #azsazz #az #azriel x you #azriel/you #shadowsinger #spymaster

[baggebythesea]

She-Ra cast as drinking buddies

Adora - She's great. Friendly and eager and up for anything. Hope you like to talk about horses, though. Try to keep her away from arm wrestling or that's what you're doing the rest of the evening.

Glimmer - She's an angry drunk. Or a happy drunk. Or a crying drunk. Or she challenges everyone in the bar on dart. Whatever she does, she'll do it with a hundred percent intensity. If someone picks a fight with you, you'll have to hold her back before she smashes a bottle and cuts a bitch.

Bow - He's everyones bestest buddie. He will pay for the drinks, listen to your rants, hold up your head over the toilet and help rain in Glimmer.

Catra - She's really guarded at first, but when the inhibitions drops either the claws or the tears come out. Step very carefully around her. Also, if she wants to have your jacket, it's her jacket now.

Scorpia - She's a delight. Friendly and considerate and a good listener. Although there is this feeling that she has some stuff of her own she's just dying to talk to someone about… if you open the floodgates, be prepared for a lot of tears and to listen for the next few hours.

Entrapta - Let's be honest - she won't listen to a word you say and she'll most likely have dismantled the beer pump and invented a new kind of drink before the evening is over, but you won't be bored.

Mermista - Surprisingly good company, once you get past the attitude. Keeps the drinks coming and have some good stories between all the 'Uuuuuughs'.

Sea Hawk - Life of the party. Shanties and drinks and arm wrestling. It's fun to have fun with frieeeeeends. Will probably have set something on fire and got you kicked out (unrelated incidents) before the evening is over, and never shuts up about Mermiiiiiiiista.

Swift Wind (did someone say Swift Wind?) - Pair him with Adora or Sea Hawk and no net amount of brain cells will have been added to the party. Up for anything and a good sport, though. Expect singing.

Perfuma - Friendly and considerate and works really hard to be a good listener, but if you just want a drink and some chit-chats rather than a group therapy session she's a bit too much. Try to appeal to her inner theatre kid to channel her energies into something more entertaining.

Netossa - PUT THE JÄGERMEISTER AWAY! EVERYTHING DOESN'T NEED TO BE A COMPETITION!

Spinnerella - The team mom makes sure everyone has a good time and stays hydrated.

Frosta - Thinks it's super unfair that she isn't allowed to drink. Still, if you get her to settle down in the juice bar she can be tons of fun.

Castaspella - Fruit drinks and party hats for everyone! Better step up your game, because everyone's friendly wine aunt won't let anyone be bored.

Shadow Weaver - The drinks are bad and the atmosphere is worse and you are beneath her notice. If you can get through her barrage of insults and appeal to her pride, she has the best stories though. Don't expect to come out of it unscarred.

Hordak - He will sit stiff, uncomfortable and completely silent for three drinks, and then he will speak in monotone voice with increasing amount of rage about the injustices he has suffered. Someone might die before the night is over, but it will sure be memorable

Horde Prime - Wonderful company - if your idea of a good time is hearing a narcisist yap on about himself and demand your constant attention. Otherwise, prepare to have a lousy time. Don't leave your drinks alone with him at any time.

Wrong Hordak - LOOK BROTHER, I'M PARTAKING! chugs beer LOOK, BROTHER! DO YOU SEE ME PARTAKE?

Imp - WHO LET THAT LITTLE SHIT INTO THE BAR? Good luck catching him when he zooms around the ceiling.

Emily - I'll be honest, I didn't know robots could drink. Neither did I know they can DISCO, but Emily proves me wrong on both counts.

Angella - Good luck getting her to settle down and relax. No, Angella, the fact that you heard a siren doesn't mean Glimmer has set something on fire (we hope, at least). Has no idea how the social codes are supposed to work, but likes to feel included.

Micah - At home in any company and a great listener. If you're lucky you'll get some stories out of him that will start with "Oh, it's nothing special. We all have that evil teacher that tricked you into helping her kill the entire senior faculty, right?" and spirals from there.

Juliet - The royal guard is never off duty. She might haul you off to cool down if you get too rowdy, but that's it.

Rogelio - Great listener, but not that good a conversationalist.

Kyle - Goddamit, Kyle!

Lonnie - Yes, Lonnie, you can drink more than me. Yes, Lonnie, you can arm wrestle me. No, Lonnie, I wasn't trying to start any shit with Kyle. Sorry, Lonnie, I'll stay out of your way.

Double Trouble - "Hey, you know what would be REALLY funny. If you distract the bartender, I'll… do a thing. No, don't worry about it. Just a thing. It will be funny."

Huntara - Two rules in the Crimson Waste, where one is not to disturb her as she drinks. If you're on her in-list, prepare to have a good time. If you're not, step carefully around her.

Tung Lashor - Sometimes all you want is someone to chug beer and shout the refrains to some stupid songs with. Just keep him away from cats.

Octavia - You know what, better keep her away from cats as well.

#spop

[ken-dom]

What’s Left In Me

Lars Lindstrom x Bianca

2.2k words

Summary: Lars needs to make sure Bianca knows she belongs to him, and really, isn’t there only one way to do that?

Author’s notes: Goosecord made me do it (never mind that I wanted to shhh). Title is song lyrics from the Lars playlist as usual

Warnings/content: nsfw, possessive Lars, use of a sex doll, loss of virginity?, fingering, clothed sex, mention of oral sex, if you’re not aware Bianca is a sex doll but he doesn’t canonically use her for sex, I guess the dove isn’t dead but I would still be very weary of eating it, seriously please do not read this if you don’t like the idea of Lars getting frisky with Bianca — or if you think he never would (I don’t really disagree but I HAD to explore it, please forgive me and please skip this if it's not for you)

‘Talk to her, Lars,�� Karin soothed, rubbing at Lars’s back. ‘Go on.’

Lars ignored the slowly burning warmth where her hand massaged circles between his shoulder blades. He had enough layers on after all, and with a deep breath, he silently reminded himself that it wasn’t her fault she needed to touch people so much.

‘What if she’s mad at me,’ he uttered under his breath, body stuck somewhere between trembling and freezing up. 

He did want to speak to Bianca though. He wanted… No. He was too scared to think it.

‘I’m sure if you explain how you’ve been feeling and hear her out, she won’t be mad at you. She loves you, Lars. More than anything.’

Lars nodded with a forced smile and stood so abruptly, Karin’s hand dropped to the sofa with a soft thud.

He turned back to her, lost for words, then forward forward again, flexing his fingers and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before heading toward the stairs.

Bianca had gone straight up to the pink room when she returned home. She didn’t even acknowledge Lars. And he couldn’t actually blame her when he thought about it.

He felt his heart hammering in his chest as he climbed. When he reached the top, Lars could see that the door of the pink room was ajar, and he took another deep, steadying breath as he approached it and knocked gently. A stark contrast to the energy with which he’d roared at her before she left.

‘Bianca,’ he whispered through the crack in the door, and to his relief she finally acknowledged him.

Lars entered slowly with his head hung low. He didn’t think she seemed put off by his presence, so he clicked the door shut behind him and pressed on.

Bianca was relaxing against the pillow, already in her pretty nightdress. He took a seat on the mattress by her feet, careful not to disturb her. She looked beautiful, he thought.

‘Bianca, I’m sorry,’ he started quietly, turning his body to face her properly and placing a gentle hand on her bare shin without thinking. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. It- it wasn’t really about Scrabble. I mean, I do love our Scrabble nights, but it was more about how I’ve been… feeling recently.’

Bianca listened intently as Lars felt the floodgates open. He had always loved how she listened. She had so many skills.

‘I… well, see, when you came here to be with me, I thought it would be just that; me and you. You know? That I’d have you all to myself. And now you’re so busy all the time, even busier than I am, and I have a lot of stuff to do – you should see how much wood I chopped tonight while you were out!’ Lars’s thumb had begun to massage slow, soothing shapes into Bianca’s leg. ‘You know what the thing is, though? Everybody wants a piece of you, but-’

Lars knew where he wanted that sentence to go, but something about it felt wrong, so he stopped himself. Bianca, of course, picked up on the sudden change of atmosphere, and as a result Lars whipped his hand away from her leg, realising he’d been caressing the flesh just below her knee the whole time he’d been talking. 

Only… she hadn’t shied away from it. And neither had he. It actually felt pretty good.

‘Bianca…’

Hands trembling, he slowly reached back to her, pushing the hem of her nightgown up, above her knees.

‘Bianca… are you sure about this?’

She agreed, and before he knew it, his hand was firmly beneath the skirt of her nightdress, tenderly rubbing at her thigh.

‘What was I going to say? I suppose I should be honest with you, I owe you that much at least.’

Lars was talking with incredibly measured precision,watching his hand move hypnotically beneath the thin pink fabric. He could feel Bianca nodding her encouragement for him to go on. 

Something snapped inside him. It wasn’t like earlier, when he’d needed to chop wood to calm himself. This was a different, urgent kind of need that his first instinct was to try and suppress.

‘I was going to say that, lately, everybody wants a piece of you,’ he breathed, his whispered voice trembling a little until he finally growled, ‘but you’re supposed to be mine.’

With both hands, he tugged Bianca downward on the bed, shifting to kneel between her legs. Two strong hands grabbed her thighs and spread them, getting her into a comfortable position.

He froze then, reality suddenly dawning on him.

He was in Gus and Karin’s house right now, and Karin was downstairs, so they’d need to be quiet. He and Bianca weren’t married, which for some reason made his cock twitch in his trousers despite the clench in his gut. And to top it off, Lars was a virgin.

He’d been too scared to ask Bianca, assuming that she was a virgin too. She must be. But he supposed that was about to change.

He’d never intended to do this. To defile her. Especially not before marriage. Especially not so soon after she arrived here, but he’d been curious, he couldn’t deny, and tonight the final straw was the spark he felt when he thought about how she was his and his only. How if he claimed her in a way no one else could, she would truly belong to him, even if she was out every night of the week.

Lars blinked furiously and then squeezed his eyes shut, fingers bruisingly rough on Bianca’s tender thighs.

He didn’t have any condoms. Why would he? He thought briefly about checking for some in Gus and Karin’s bathroom, but since Bianca couldn’t have children of her own, and they were both virgins, he thought better of interrupting. He did want to claim her after all, and what better way to do that than pump her full to the brim?

Strangely, Bianca had arrived complete with a pitifully small tube of lube included in the crate. Lars had dropped it into his pocket last minute when disposing of the packaging she’d arrived in, not wanting anyone to find it in his trash and think him some sort of deviant. No, better to keep it safe and out of sight.

He was wearing the same trousers tonight, as luck would have it. He fished it out of his pocket and held it up for Bianca to see.

‘See? It’ll help you feel more comfortable.’

He flashed her a big smile and removed the lid, squeezing half the contents into his palm and rubbing his hands together to warm it.

‘Let me help you…’

His hand disappeared up her nightgown again, fumbling with her underwear briefly before easily slipping a finger inside.

‘Oh, you’re already so prepared for me… does this feel good? You like my fingers?’ he cooed, massaging her folds with his thumb as his finger pumped carefully, coating her, inside and out, in the slippery fluid. ‘Shhh… remember we need to be quiet!’

Heat flooded his core as he watched her take his fingers, cock straining against the inside of his trousers now, and for the first time in his life he felt like he needed more. Like he needed to remove layers and feel touch and be closer.

He gently removed his hand from between Bianca’s thighs and hastily pulled his sweater over his head, tearing his shirt and tie away too, revealing the first of his two underlayers, long sleeves and unbuttoned at the neck.

He wouldn’t take off Bianca’s nightgown, though. Some things were just too sacred, and he could respect her enough to let her keep it on. Perhaps until they were married, at least, then he could undress her slowly and make every square inch of her shiver with anticipation for him.

Tonight he just needed to make her entirely his, and he knew that it was what she wanted – no, needed, too.

He crawled forward and hovered over her, eyes roaming her pretty face, lingering on her lips.

‘We’ll be married one day soon,’ he whispered through a crooked smile, ‘so it doesn’t matter really. You’re not worried about that, are you?’

Lars’s lips met Bianca’s in a desperate, hungry kiss, and when he pulled away a tear fell from his eye, dropping onto her flawless cheek.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he sniffled, ‘so beautiful… hey, don’t cry.’

He wiped his spilled tear from her cheek as if it were her own.

‘Do you really want this? With me?’

Lars breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Alright,’ he chuckled, ‘and don’t worry, ok? I’ll be gentle with you.’

With one hand he clumsily unfastened and pushed his trousers down enough to free his aching cock, guiding it to her entrance.

‘If it hurts, just tell me, alright? We can take it slow,’ he whispered, carefully pushing in and hissing at the sensation of her walls enveloping his length. ‘Ah! You’re so… so wet and… and tight…’

She felt so good, precum leaked steadily from his tip already despite not having moved yet.

He could feel her stretching around him, feel her pleasure-pain unfold as he stilled and let her adjust to his size.

‘I know, I know, you’ll get used to it, sweetheart. I’ll make it feel good, ok? Are you ready?’

His hips rolled slowly at first, increasing in speed with every impatient thrust. Bianca seemed to clench around him as he found his rhythm, and he managed to wrap one of her legs up and around his waist as he drove into her harder, a hand sneaking between their bodies to explore her folds again.

‘Y-you like that?’ he whispered breathlessly. ‘You gonna cum for me?’

With his other hand, he gripped her jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him, her lips popping open as he squeezed.

‘You are gonna cum for me, aren’t you?’ he growled, pressing his forehead to hers, ‘Because you- are- mine. Say it. Say that you’re- mine.’ 

His words were punctuated with the snapping of his hips, and Bianca’s heel dug into his lower back in a silent plea for more, which he eagerly gave as he awaited her response.

The bed creaked beneath them as Lars went harder. Bianca didn’t seem to care about the noise, or the integrity of the furniture, when she was in the throes of passion with Lars. She must really have wanted him after all.

When Lars was satisfied that Bianca understood who she belonged to, he pressed his big, warm palm over her mouth, keeping any other noise she might make to a minimum. He could feel he was close to release and knew that she must be too by the way she was arching her back off the bed.

‘Oh… ohhh- mmh…  you belong to me. You understand? No one else can- ugh!- do this to you. No one else can make you- ha!- feel like th- ohhhhnnggmmnn-’

Lars felt a burst of uncontrollable heat spread through every part of his body, his vision turning white as a thick creamy rope erupted from his tip and filled Bianca, who he could feel was mid-orgasm already. He continued to fuck erratically into her and eagerly massaging her clit until he felt his cock softening inside her walls, and collapsed in a heap on top of her.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, are you ok?’ Lars muttered breathlessly, pulling himself up to hover a mere inch from her face, her beautiful eyes sparkling up at him.

He kissed her sweetly. So sweetly you’d never guess he’d just filled her with his seed in a frenzied culmination of his deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings.

He shifted his hips to pull out, feeling a trickle of warm wetness follow.

‘Don’t worry about the mess, ok? I’ll clean us both up. Wait right there.’

And Bianca did just that while Lars, with hastily fastened trousers and hair in disarray, shuffled off down the hallway to the nearest bathroom to fetch a towel.

When he returned, he paused in the doorway to just look at her. She really was perfect.

Half an hour later, and after a hurried conversation with Karin during which Lars avoided eye contact and assured her he had firmly made up with Bianca and that he’d apologised thoroughly, he was laid in bed, struggling to sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, about how he should be with her now, holding her in his arms and whispering sweet nothings about how good she was and how good she made him feel.

He had told her those things, of course, in great detail as he cleaned his seed from between her thighs and attempted to remove the stain on her nightgown and kissed her forehead. But he missed her so much now that he’d shared such intimacy with her, he hadn’t even bothered showering yet. He wanted to smell her on his skin. 

He wondered if she would want to do it again, or if she really would want to wait until after marriage now that she’d had a small taste. Lars wasn’t sure he could wait very long before needing to chase those delicious sensations again, and he had a feeling Bianca would be ok with that.

Lars eventually fell asleep imagining what Bianca might taste like, and vaguely made the decision that tomorrow night, he would find out for himself.

#not s f w 💀 #lars lindstrom #lars lindstrom smut #lars lindstrom fic #lars lindstrom x bianca #lars and the real girl fic #lars and the real girl #ryan gosling #ryan gosling fic #ryan gosling smut #ken-dom writes

[ifwedanceinthemagma]

Break me? I think I can enjoy anything you give me, sir. I love you too, after all, what kind of pup would I be if I wasn't malleable?

Make sure to drag me by the hair, let me whine about the sting until my cheek is pressed into the glass. Watch my face go red with embarassment, my little growls and grunts as I try to stop any louder sounds. Not from shame of any kind, but trying to deny you the satisfaction. Maybe when you strike me over one of the bruises I'd finally shriek, opening the floodgates for helpless moans. Or maybe I'm right, and you don't have the heart. Maybe, I'd manage to keep quiet, whining when you fill me up again, refusing even a 'thank you.'

Denial could work, wouldn't you think? What better to give a brat than nothing? But then I feel like I've won, broken my sir first. Oh, what a treat it would be to imagine you're taking it out on another pup. I'll be sure to entertain myself in the meantime, even if it's as pathetic humping the air. I'm sure I'll find a way to get off without daddy's help regardless.

That option is so mean for you, sir! Wouldn't want to scare you when I moan from cold metal on my skin, or how my eyes flutter shut with a pained sigh at the hot melt of wax.

Maybe there's no winning here, sir. Maybe you just has to accept defeat. Puppy just loves you too much, they would take all of it to appease you <3

-💫

Oh darling, sweetheart listen okay?

I know I've gone about this all wrong now, I saw you acting up and I wanted to control you, I wanted to find the way I'd break you so I could own entirely; now I know I dont need to. You're already broken.

You'd try so hard to take everything I give you because I already affect you that much don't I? You keep trying to find ways to win against me because you know how much I love trying to make you lose. You know I want to watch you struggle so you'd struggle endlessly for me. I could never make you accept a defeat you would've already been revelling in from the start.

You're such a good puppy.

#Ignore this it's between me and them

[kimberly-stocks]

Don't let go

"Only say no if you really don't wanna be with me!"

"No!" She cried. Her heart squeezed at the hurt look that flashed across his face before he turned to leave, fraught, agitated.

"Jess, wait!" He froze in place, his fingers clutched around the door handle, his shoulders tense, his back to her.

She crossed the distance between them in two seconds, and wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug, her face pressed against the nape of his neck, breathing in his scent. He stiffened in her embrace, but relaxed after a few moments when she still hasn't let him go.

"Don't leave... Not again," he heard her whisper.

"Rory..." His voice thick, chocked. She squeezed him tighter, her eyes shut trying to will the tears away.

His fingers let go of his grip on the door handle, and it closed with a soft click, as he turned in her embrace carefully, slowly, to face her. His arms wrapped around her to hug her back. He planted a kiss on the top of her head, and that seemed to break something in her. The floodgates opened and she sniffled, trying to choke down the sob in vain. He pulled her closer, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other stroking her back while he rocked her from side to side soothingly, like one would a small child. She cried in his arms for missing him so much it hurt, for their could've beens, for the loneliness of this year, for Yale being not what she expected, for missing her mom's phone calls, for getting into this mess with Dean, for grandma trying to force her lifestyle on her by furnituring her entire dorm, for the set up date with Graham, for her bad grades and failed class, for everything in between. It felt good, cathartic, to finally let this all go, all those emotions and frustrations, everything she's been bottling up since he left. He held her close, carefully but firmly, steadily, she felt safe in his arms, like she always did.

Why does everything have to be so complicated? She didn't want him to leave, but couldn't fathom a scenario where he stayed. She didn't know what to say to his crazy proposal to run away with him, she knew she would never do that, but a small part of her buried somewhere deep inside was whispering 'what if?' She dreamed about seeing him again so many times, especially after the firelight festival, after his confession. And now here he is, holding her. His presence is overwhelming, but not unwelcome. She doesn't want to let go.

Finally, her sobs ceased and tears dried. She's still hugging him tight. His leather jacket is a little squeaky under her cheek, but it smells like him, and she missed that smell so bad it makes her insides ache.

They're just standing there in the middle of her empty dorm, the lights are dimmed, it's dark outside. No one in the whole world knows that he's here right now, with her. Rory feels like maybe they are the last two people on Earth, campus is quiet, its usual sounds that make it through her shitty door on a daily are absent. It's eerie and serene at the same time. She doesn't want to let go.

Jess doesn't move at all, even his palms stopped their soothing caress on her back. She'd think he was a statue if she couldn't hear the steady beat of his heart. It's a comforting sound to hear. She doesn't want to let go. She doesn't want to think what will happen when she does. They're stuck in this limbo, in the uncertainty of what's to come. Finally she lifts her head and looks him in the eyes.

"What did you really come here to say?" Somehow she doesn't believe that his frantic plea was the intended message, his eyes were too wild for that.

He doesn't respond for a long moment, his eyes searching something in hers.

"I don't know," finally he whispers. "I didn't think this through."

"Clearly," despite the situation she chuckles. That brings a tentative upturn to his lip.

"I guess I just wanted to see you. Talk to you. Apologize for every shitty thing I've done to you," he swallows before continuing. "I'm sorry, Rory. I really am sorry."

"I know." She can see it in his eyes, he's sincere, he's trying. She doesn't know if it's enough in the grand scheme of things. But it's enough for now.

Just something that popped into my head as I'm trying to get back to writing literati 🤔

#gilmore girls #jess mariano #rory gilmore #rory gilmore fanfiction #literati #literati fanfiction #jess x rory #jess x rory fanfiction #milo ventimiglia #young milo ventimiglia #team jess #ficlet #my writing