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#actually just gonna shove a whole book in there
tciddaemina · 1 year
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an annotated igris, for all your come all ye mighty needs. i drop so much armor jargon in the fic that i figured i ought to make some sort of guide. theres a bit of confusion about what exactly his tasset/fauld/cuisse situation is, because as far as i can see what would be his tasset just sort of merges into the plates of his cuisse, so we’re just gonna hand wave that
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anantaru · 2 months
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friends with benefits with alhaitham but he's so awfully blunt about it— simply put, words cannot possibly describe how deeply you're regretting your decision to ever step into this sort of relationship with him.
hey now, in all seriousness, you don't regret it.
"are you gonna come over tonight?" alhaitham hums, a little aloof, without breaking the attention of his gaze on his newly purchased book, "to have sex?" he can't be bothered to give it much more details at the moment.
this time though, it's more urgent, in any other case he wouldn't say the quiet part out loud like that.
alas, he continues, "i got the whole place to myself," as he hints before continuing to flip through the pages and pretend like he hasn't just said all of this to you.
to see your face, you were certain he would immediately get the hint, oh well, scrap that, he probably knows how it's coming across anyways.
in alhaitham's personal opinion, there was no specific, logical reasoning as to why he should sweet-talk around this subject, in fact, the both of you have agreed on having this special friendship— so making it overly complicated with insincere flattery would actually give him a migraine.
again, of all the things alhaitham could've just said, you expected this one hundred percent and over.
"don't just say it like that!" you yell and shove at his shoulder, "what if someone hears you?"
"who? there's no one here," there goes that handsome, unbothered voice again, never without an even more handsome smile— the very one making your stomach twist heavily, eyes gleam vividly and legs turn into jelly.
alhaitham knows exactly what your behavior means, or your lack of response now. he determines it by the amount of time you require to find a rebuttal to say, well or, yell back at him— alas, he'll hear you scream tonight anyways, so those few shouts now aren't going to hurt him.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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m0th-gh0st · 1 year
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society if wf actually leaned into its religous themes and character arcs>>>>
#pine moment#this makes no sense im sorry#whispered faith#whisperedfaith#thinking about how tragic a character sean couldve been if we actually learnt more about him leading up to him joining the family#like lee is 18 at the begining of the series#so sean shouldve been a similar age considering they went to highschool toghter#and assuming he was in the family pre canon then that was like a whole ass 16 year old (give or take) running an entire cult#no wonder he was so cringefail#also mo!! mo was so worried about lee the whole time and did nothing but try protect him#like it wouldve been so interesting to have an arc of mo realising that theres nothing he can really do to help lee and he cant keep him#out of danger#like mo having to make the decison to step back and let lee do what he needs to wouldve been so good but no#dont even get me started on kaitlyn she was done so dirty#it felt like she was shoe horned in the moment it was introduced despite the fact they couldve done so much with her#even the diary in her shed they did fucking nothing with that#it was like 'oh heres this diary in her shed but lets shove this aside cause heres a better cooler book!!'#she shouldve been a carrier im gonna start biting people#and the fucking potential of her leaving like we never see why she left we just see lee on the phone#it wouldve been such a good unreliable narrator type moment to have that be revealed later but its so brushed past that most people dont#notice it#oh my god the tags on this are so long ok ill shut up#ive already made a post about lees potential corruption arc anyway
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lovebugism · 5 months
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how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy
a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch. 
Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar. 
Speaking of sweet…
His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.
Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.
He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.
“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.
Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”
“Did you sleep good?” 
“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”
“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”
“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”
Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”
Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”
“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”
He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”
“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”
“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.
“Get out of the kitchen!”
“What’d I do?”
“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”
“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”
You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.
The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”
Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”
Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”
“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”
“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”
“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.
“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”
Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.
“You’re welcome…”
Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.
“It’s different!”
The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.
“That’s not true!”
“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”
“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.
“Eddie,” you scold quietly.
The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.
“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”
Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now. 
“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”
“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”
“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”
You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.
The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.
“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.
You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”
“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”
“Eddie.”
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ineffable-suffering · 4 months
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The meaning of "I forgive you"
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Alright, hello again, I involuntarily dipped for a bit because real life outside of this lovely Tumblr Good Omens bubble got a little bit stressful, but! I'm back for a quick little post to say that I'm currently reading the script book for Season 1 and seeing this line again, spelled out on paper, just shone some more light on the whole „I forgive you“-scene of Season 2 for me again.
Because really, this first time Az says it to Crowley in front of the bookshop tells us exactly what the second time during the Final Fifteen means.
Aziraphale is not forgiving Crowley for kissing him. Or for using this moment to confess and make things explicit between them.
No, Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for not trusting and believing (in) him.
Let's shove the Final Fifteen to the side for a second and look at this scene from Season 1 under the cut.
The situation at hand: The World is ending, with utmost certainty. In addition, Crowley is absolutely f*cked and Hell is out to get him. He tries to apologise for their Bandstand fallout and explain the other two things to Az (poorly, but he tries). Because to Crowley, Armageddon is a done deal already. Wherever the actual Antichrist is, he's gonna come into his power and the World will be wiped out for Heaven and Hell to wage their war on. Also, Hastur is coming to kick his demon ass. Time to dip!
And yet, Aziraphale doesn't want to come with him. He is adamant that he will be able to reach the Almighty, talk to Her and turn this around. Because if Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, thinks there's even the slightest, tiniest morsel of a chance that he can turn things around the right way, he will do it. Even if it sounds ridiculous. Even if it's a lost cause to everyone else. Even if all the other angels gang up on him and (literally) beat him up.
Even if Crowley calls him stupid.
Aziraphale decides not to be offended by this.
Because this is what he does. This is what a Guardian does. He stays and protects to ward off the intrusion, until the very last second.
Now listen, I'm the last person to blame Crowley for intrinsically wanting to choose Flight over Fight in this very situation, because Lord knows (literally) what happened to him back when he chose Fight and lost.
But at the same time we have to keep in mind that despite his last name, Aziraphale never Fell. He never made the horrible experience of being chucked away by the one who made you to love Her because you chose to question her ways. And yes, in so many ways this choice of his, to still believe that he can change something by questioning and suggesting (both here and in S2), is utterly maddening and hurtful to Crowley. Because it's a mirror of what Crowley himself did and a reminder of just how big the price he had to pay was. Aziraphale seemingly not realizing or understanding this stings. It does.
And yet.
Yet Aziraphale's choice to not take no for an answer, to not let a punch to the gut derail him from his plan, to not let even the most definitive thing such as Armageddon keep him from fighting back, is the one thing that ends up saving the World.
Because even when it all seems impossible and completely hopeless and bloody Satan himself is erupting from the pits of Hell, ...
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... Aziraphale picks up his sword and fights back.
And he wins.
Not without help, of course. But might I remind you of what got Crowley to cooperate and not simply surrender like he'd almost done that second?
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You might not see it at first, but tucked in between all the posh hedonism, hidden away underneath that tightly buttoned waistcoat of his, Aziraphale is a fighter. And a good one at that. I mean, for Someone's sake, he got discorporated, beamed himself down back to Earth, found Crowley somehow, possessed a psychic prostitute (love you, Madame Tracy), rode a scooter all the way to Taddfield and fought off Lucifer with sheer willpower (and a bit of emotional coercion).
Aziraphale can fight. Smart and hard. And not only that: He can win, too. And he knows it. Because he believes, truly, firmly and wholly, that he can make things right. It's the only thing he will settle for. This, ladies and gents, this is how he ends up saving the World, together with Crowley, Adam and the rest.
Because he didn't accept no as an answer. He didn't look at the impossible and accept it as such. Even when Crowley thought him to be an idiot for trying and even after his initial attempt at talking to God had failed, Aziraphale still found a way to stop The Big Bad Thing from happening.
Which is exactly what his plan is when he ends up being forced to come back to Heaven by the Metatron. (If you still believe this was a voluntary choice, read here). And which is exactly why he is so hurt and still ends up forgiving Crowley for the fact that Crowley doesn't end up coming with him. Doesn't end up understanding, trusting and believing (in) him, just like all the way back at the end of the World in Season 1.
Aziraphale decides not to be offended by this.
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rogueddie · 9 months
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Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.
"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."
"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"
"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."
"You know the limit."
"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"
"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"
"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."
Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."
"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"
"Not this much."
"What about all those sports you played?"
"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."
Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.
All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.
"You always say you want kids though, right?"
"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."
"Chocolate?"
"Oh no..."
"What?"
"You're planning something, aren't you?"
"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"
"Something?"
"That you really want."
"There's nothing I need."
"That's not what I'm asking."
"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."
"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."
But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.
He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.
Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.
It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.
The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.
When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...
"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."
"He means a lot to them."
"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."
Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.
"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.
"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."
"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"
"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."
"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"
"This."
"No, what do you really want?"
"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."
"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"
"You know what I want."
"I want you to say it."
Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.
"What do you want, Eddie?"
"You. I- I want you."
It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.
"As you wish."
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strawberry-cowmilk · 1 year
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sleeping next to the brothers (realistic)
a/n: I decided this was funny enough to be released from my drafts
mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read
content warnings: this is a shitpost, kind of, mc and the brothers share a bed
-----
Lucifer
this nice man sleeps on his back, you're gonna have to lie down on his chest and hope he wraps his arm around you if you want cuddles
the problem is he acts and feels like a literal log
he does not move during the night, and he feels like he needs a massage performed by a truck
every beaver in a three mile radius wants a lucifer
Mammon
it starts out pretty nice and peaceful
like, you're just laying there under the blankets, what could go wrong
the second mammon falls asleep he acts like he's in the newest james bond movie
the blanket will somehow be tied into a knot and on the floor, mammon's whole body is half off of the bed all that stuff
if you want an ounce of peace, make sure he doesn't get on his back, he will snore
Leviathan
guy sleeps in a bathtub need I say more
you wake up with your whole arm still asleep
there's 0 room, one of you is crushing the other plus the bathtub has no cushioning at all hopefully your back can take it or you end up like log lucifer
levi might insist on taking the ruri body pillow with him, yay less space
the air probably smells like ancient cheetos too
Satan
his room is a mess, so is the end of his bed
every heavy book is shoved there in a pile that looks like it could collapse every second
you're going to have to sleep with your legs up, especially if you're tall
satan himself isn't very cuddly, sometimes he literally falls asleep with his back turned to you (he might hug you if you ask nicely though)
luckily he stays still during the night
Asmodeus
it's actually pretty great
the bed is nice, the sheets aren't dirty and there's a nice smell in the room
the only problem is asmo will put his whole body weight on you
and good luck trying to get him off of you, he will not move
also asmo doesn't care how hot the summer day is, he will still hug you like that
at least you always got the fan, right?
Beelzebub
beel stays pretty still while sleeping and will put an arm around you
but his snores can shake the house
also beel eats in his bed, there might be crumbs of food stuck to the sheets
like his gym shorts, he washes the sheets once per blue moon
and hopefully you're a deep sleeper because beel enters and leaves the room at least 5 times per night for food
Belphegor
belphie requires to hold you or else he will not be happy
he sleeps pretty peacefully, other than the occasional snore
the problem is he can sleep for 14 hours straight, and his grip is strong
basically you will be stuck in his arms for as long as he's asleep
like beel, he doesn't wash the sheets very often
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cherrygenshin · 1 year
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Obey Me! Rut HC's - pt.2
Warnings: NSFW, SMUT. Minors DNI. Again, no special warnings, just breeding.
GN reader.
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Satan
His rut is average, lasting up to a week.
He's not too big on nest building, he finds it gets too stuffy in his room with too many items in it (let's be real, it's really cause it won't fit due to all his damn books)
Actually remains kinda the same? Just touchier?
Won't let you leave his room once you enter, if you do leave he won't let you back in, no matter how desperate he gets.
Snaps VERY quickly, but will try his best to keep his cool around you. He's just so worked up, he can't handle the pressure.
In post nut clarity he will be very smoochy to you, thanking you for putting up with him and giving you the best food he can find.
He's not great at regulating his emotions at the best of times, but now instead of 'ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY' his mind is full of 'BREED BREED BREED'.
Enjoys bending you over so he can pound in to you and groan lewdly in your ear.
PLEASE scratch him up, your marks on him means he's fucking you just right, he wants to see them.
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Asmodeous
Longest rut out of everyone, tbh he kinda always wants to breed and be bred so it's not that different for him.
He will seek you out the moment he feels it coming. He normally has demons lining up around the block for a chance with him, but he'll choose you over anyone else. Of course, if you're down to enjoy his rut with more people, then he's down for that too.
Prefers being bred over breeding, I HC that he's got both a juicy cunt AND a nice dick. He uses both, but definitely prefers getting his pussy filled.
You think Levi was loud? Try Asmo. He LOVES the sound of his voice, and he knows you love it too. He will moan the house down.
He's ridiculously sensitive and very bratty, will try and push you further in to him/push himself further in to you, he's very needy.
Unlike his brothers, he's actually not very clingy during his rut, and enjoys his personal space, like taking nice long baths before the next wave of horniness overcomes him.
Overall he's very casual about the whole thing. You wanna breed him? Okay. You want him to breed you? Easy done. As long as someone gets to enjoy him, he's happy.
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Beelzebub
Another vote for average rut length, lasts about a week.
Enjoys making a lil nest for you and him to spend the week in, takes pride in his nest building abilities.
OKAY so, Beel wants a family. Idc what anyone says, he's a family man through and through.
Being that he wants a family, his rut hits him very hard. His desire to breed completely overwhelms him, he becomes the most animalistic out of all his brothers.
Also, BIG DICK = LOTS OF CUM
He will FOLD you like a deck chair, just to shove his cock as far into you as he possibly can.
Grunts and groans, will also grip you tight enough to leave bruises, he just loves u so much he wants to be as close to you as possible
"Gonna cum in you darling", "gonna make you a parent", "Fuck- you're gonna be so hot carrying my child."
Will literally carry you to impale u on his dick if you get too tired, he is not stopping until you're pregnant.
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Belphegor
Lucky ass bitch has the shortest rut, lasting only two or so days.
Probably will sleep through it ngl wet dream city
If he happens to be awake, he won't ask for help directly, he'll just expect it.
He kinda already has a nest in the attic, won't really add much more to it. He'd rather preserve energy to be able to fuck you properly.
Another for 'I don't really want kids but damn nutting in u is kinda nice'
Gets more whiny during his rut, when he's close he'll let out the most angelic soft moans and whines you've ever heard.
Although he isn't super energetic on the best of days, being in his rut really saps all his energy. He's got a cycle of fuck, sleep, fuck, sleep.
Unfortunately you will have to feed him as he really does put his all in to fucking you, he doesn't even have the energy to feed himself afterwards.
Big on show, don't tell. He won't tell you how much he loves you (he's getting better at expressing his emotions, but he's getting better!) But the way he holds you close as he sleeps says more than words ever will.
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weirwoodsugar · 1 year
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lil jon things i am obsessed with/think are hilarious in the order they occurred to me at 3 am
-spends the first book telling anyone who will listen that he’s Not Afraid To Die and then a wight shoves its whole hand down his throat and he’s like wow that was actually extremely scary and never says that shit again
-always got little Things he says to himself but they’re all awful. very bad affirmation game no wonder morale is low
-“did lord eddard father you on a fish wife”
-the doubts that plague me can’t catch me if i just keep making Decisions!!! let’s hear it for Decisions!!!!
-arguably contender for top woman respecter but batting absolute zero at successfully comforting crying women. unless you consider “making her mad at you instead of upset” a success
-i’m not a wolf! i’m not a wolf!! i’m not a wolf!!! while warging like almost constantly with zero control. babe i don’t think your affirmations are working you’re experiencing non consensual smells at an alarming rate
-i wish mormont was my dad wait no i wish benjen was my dad wait no i wish qhorin was my dad wait no i wish donal noye was my dad. will someone be my dad please i just keep making decisions
-constantly having Agonies over ethical decision making while the rest of the continent hasn’t even really invented the concept of ethics yet? on the verge of a nervous breakdown due to his constant Agonies
-related: love is the death of duty but having strong ethical convictions/clear moral vision is also kind of the death of duty oops! aemon didn’t warn you about that one!
-stannis wants to davosify this kid mega bad
-“jon felt like he was fifteen again” (said when he’s literally sixteen)
-has a terrible violence in his heart but it’s kind of the least of his problems tbh. like yeah my fire and blood levels are a little elevated but i’ve got paperwork i need to take care of
-RUNNING DOWN THE TABLE AT YOU WITH A KNIFE!!!!!
-last of the giants fixation. god he’s gonna be so mad when he comes back and wun wun is dead. this one isn’t hilarious it’s deeply moving and endearing
-an eagle almost rips his eye out and he’s like well i guess i have no choice but to have sex with ygritte at least one dozen times. it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it
-just a crazy amount of anime main character pre-loaded swag (bastard of winterfell skin changer with an albino direwolf and a cool sword which he can really SWANG and cool facial scars etc etc) and is actively working against it. rolled super high on charisma and is trying to balance it out by being as much of a boring fuddy duddy as he possibly can. the devil works hard (at making me cool) but i work harder (at being very uncool). it is an honorable thing to be swagless by choice…….
-pretty sure he actively enjoys saying no to people. just for love of the game (the game is being disagreeable). very capricorn coded. likely brushes his teeth in the shower.
-REMEMBER WE KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP 😈
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crimsonteaaddict · 7 months
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Delulu Yandere!Werewolf!Boyfriend who wants nothing more than to put his pups in his Male!Darling
Yandere!Werewolf!boyfriend who wants to get you pregnant so bad even though you can’t get pregnant and don’t have the facilities to become pregnant.
Werewolf!boyfriend who in or out of rut will pound into your whole repeatedly filling it for hours at a time whining about how he’s gonna put his pups in you.
Since you know that it’s not possible and despite trying to tell him when he wasn’t mating with you, the news only causing him to become pouty mumbling about how his mate doesn’t want his pups.
You can try and explain that your a man as much as you want, but he’ll simply agree that you are his man and his soon to be pregnant wife. Werewolves don’t actually do marriage, they just mate, so this belief that you were his wife came from the fact that you were recently reading a book where the small mate like protagonist got married and became a wife. Or at least that’s the conclusion he got from hearing about the romance from you. This will cause werewolf boyfriend to equate mate to wife, so good luck trying to tell him you’re not really a woman or married.
Werewolf!boyfriend will become very upset if enough time goes without a pup taking root in you. But not at you. No the big dope would begin pouting and questioning if he was a good enough mate.
It’s best if you do something quick, faking a pregnancy isn’t viable as depending on how delusional Werewolf!boyfriend is he may or may not write off the lack of change in your scent. If he doesn’t expect him to believe you don’t want his babies, and also expect him to chain you too his bed and begin feeding you all kinds of stuff meant to help you get pregnant.
If you choose to go a different route like leaving your cabin in the woods to go find the nice witch in the forest to help you, you’d have to do this quickly and in the hour or two werewolf!boyfriend is out hunting. This method would be successful as you would become able to carry his children.
Or better yet what if you do none of this and after a few months Werewolf!boyfriend seems to be trying to seed you less and is instead doting on you. He has suddenly begun shoving his nose to your neck every time he enters the same room as you and has somehow found a way to lessen the time you spend not in holding vicinity.
Werewolf!boyfriend has begun bringing back twice the hunt to feed you, and eventually mutter something complaining about how long it took his sperm to prepare your body.
Don’t worry you aren’t in for nine months of hell, luckily unluckily the werewolf pup gestation period is much shorter.
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wandascrush · 17 days
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Breath of fresh air
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Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Pregnancy, kissing, small hurt, mention of injuries
It was so nice to finally get outside and have some fresh air. The last few days you were stuck looking out the bay window as it poured and poured. Natasha, your wife and soon to be mother of your child, was extremely overprotective and made sure while she was gone that Laura watched over you from time to time.
The Barton’s only lived less than one acre over, on a small but beautiful farm of their own with their 3 mini Barton’s. They had actually given you and Natasha the idea to live off the grid, and who better to have as neighbors than the people who had become your guys’ family.
Especially Laura, she was one of your closest confidants and you loved causing chaos with her. Being a recent agent-out-of-commission due to your pregnancy was different, especially not training as hard and sleeping in, but as your symptoms really kicked up, you were grateful for the break. Recently entering the second trimester had not been easy. It was nice having someone like Laura to talk to, who really understood.
Natasha was scheduled to come back next Wednesday, and God were you ready for her to be home. It was hard to sleep without her soft touch, the Russian lullabies she sang you and the baby every night, and the way she'd gently rest her hand on your back throughout the day as a reminder she's there for you. Sometimes she'd come home with baby clothes or an extra teddy bear she'd seen for the baby's nursery, and in those moments there was no doubt in your mind that she’d make the most beautiful mother.
As you were drinking your tea and reading your favorite piece of poetry, an extremely loud whirring sound caught your attention. Using your book as a shield from the sun, you looked up to the sky to find the Quinjet making a rocky landing in your field, swaying the grass in waves. Almost immediately, Laura came out of her house with her kids trailing behind, worry and confusion written all over their faces. You went to each others sides, "What's going on Laur? Are they okay?"
"I'm sure their fine, relax, it's gonna be okay," but you heard the breathlessness in her voice as she held you close and away from the unpredictable helicopter in the middle of your flower field.
The door to the jet slid open and revealed a group of ruffed up, exhausted Avengers. The whole pack was there from first glance: Tony, Steve, Clint, Fury, Maria, Thor, Bruce, but no- oh there's Natasha. You and Laura exhaled at the same time, half walking and half skipping to Natasha and Clint. Finally, landing in her arms again. Her hold was tender but tight, tighter than ever as she closed her tired eyes and breathed in your scent and held the back of your head. The team gawked at you and Laura like alien specimens in your lovers arms.
"I'm just gonna say it- who the hell are you two?" Of course, Tony was the one to break the sweet moment.
Natasha let out a mix of a sigh and a chuckle, before sharing a glance with Clint. "This, Tony, is my wife Y/N. Y/N  - the Avengers, Avengers - Y/N. There, the formalities are over."  Clint soon did the same with Laura.
The sound of leather could be heard crunching as Fury walked toward you and Laura, embracing you two too hard, nearly making you cough. You gently reached up to give him a hug, "Nice to see you too Nick." 
"HOW DO THESE TWO KNOW NICK?" Poor Bruce, he looked like he was trying to solve a math problem.
"We're agents with Shield, dipshit. I'm just on leave due to-," you gestured down to your visible pregnant belly, "and the fact that Nick is my boss so technically I have to listen to him. But Laura and I have actually known all of you for years, which is how we met Clint and Natasha...unfortunately."  You chuckled when Nat lightly shoved your arm.
Good ol' Steve Rogers was the first to stick out his arm, "It’s a pleasure, Miss." His grip was firm, but not too hard. You smiled up at him kindly, "Nice to meet you too, Rogers. And call me Y/N, are you boys hungry?"
A few hours later you were in the kitchen, freshly showered and bandaged Avengers sitting at your dining room table, causing a ruckus and playing poker. You loved the sound of a full house and conversations mixing together to make one babble of laughing, foul mouthed heroes. It was music to your ears.
A gentle figure hugged you from behind while you were over the sink, placing their soft hands on your belly, you closed your eyes for a second and sighed happily.
“Missed me much sweetheart?” 
“You know I did,” you craned your neck to give her a gentle kiss on the temple.
That night, as the worlds mightiest slept in your spare bunks and sleeping bags, you fell asleep safe and sound with Natasha’s arm around you and your baby-to-be.
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tciddaemina · 1 year
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legacy, duty, and generations in sekiro
no but okay, there is absolutely something fundamental and foundational about the way that the different generations of character is sekiro make up part of the plot. i literally cannot understate how important this - the fact that there are multiple generations of characters - and the role of inheritance of duty between generations plays in the core themes, and the core tragedy, of the story.
because like, there are so many of the characters (of the bosses lol) who are these very old people, almost elderly, more than a few retired, who play absolutely fundamental roles within the story. we have owl, wolf’s father and teacher. we have lady butterfly, similarly a very powerful aging figure of the same generation. we have lord isshin, and even the sculptor. all of these figures, they represent old guard of a previous age of glory - a previous generation, who’s stories and legacies are fundamental to the plot. twenty years ago, lord isshin (with the help of people like owl, the sculptor, and others) lead a coup and a revolt that won ashina its freedom, making it an independent state, and the story as it unfolds is the tale of how the next generation is trying to pick up and carry on that legacy. 
and this concept - legacies being passed on from one generation to the next, the duty that the younger generation inherits and how they have to hold it up - is what makes and breaks the main characters of sekiro, namely wolf and genichiro. 
wolf and genichiro are foils of one another, both of whom are in essentially the same situation and who’s parallels are indisputable. because right, they’re both children adopted by the hero’s of that victorious aging generation, brought up to pick up the duty of their line. genichiro is there to be lord isshin’s heir, the next lord of the ashina clan, the next protector of ashina, while wolf is owl’s successor, a weapon created to continue owl’s legacy and to carry out his purpose. 
duty makes and breaks these characters. at their heart, it is their fundamental driving principle. genichiro’s duty is to ashina as a whole, the land itself, and protecting and saving ashina is his singular focus, to the point where he’s tearing himself apart to do it (his fucking arms, my god the lightning burns). he will do anything to protect his homeland, because if it doesn’t it means that he’s failed. his grandfather won ashina’s freedom, and genichiro is the one who has to step into his shoes and protect it in the next war, when history repeats itself and the same forces come back seeking to consume it. his loyalty is to a place, and in his drive to protect it drives him to do terrible things, abandoning his morals in the hopes of finding a way to protect his home, ultimately resulting in him sacrificing his own life - literally putting the sword to his own throat and bleeding himself dry - for the hope that it will be enough to summon a protector who will be able to keep ashina and its people safe. 
wolf, in contrast, has his duty centred on a person. first it is on owl, who raises him and creates of him a shinobi. then it’s on kuro, who owl presents wolf to. literally, it’s the iron code that owl gives wolf: “your father's word always comes first, your master's a close second.” at every point throughout the story, wolf’s first and only priority is in obeying kuro and seeing that he is safe. it’s his driving force, it’s what he does. wolf ultimately isn’t taking part in the war and fighting for the sake of the war itself or any morals or stances he has about it - he fights both members of the interior ministry and members of ashina’s defences, not caring what side they’re on. wolf is ultimately on his own side in the war, an independent party whose sole priority is in seeing kuro through the conflict safely. if wolf cared about the outcome of the war, or about ashina’s defence, the defence of his homeland, then he wouldn’t be ruthlessly slaughtering the main generals in charge of trying to hold the front. 
so, like genichiro, wolf is driven by a singular focus and an all consuming duty centered on one thing. like genichiro, he is willing to tear himself apart and even sacrifice himself in order to see kuro safe. this parallel, if you take the purification ending, is literally one to one, right down to the type of sword each one uses for the act. the black mortal blade for genichiro, sacrificing himself to try and bring back a glorious protector strong enough to see ashina to another age of victory; the red mortal blade for wolf, sacrificing himself in order to free kuro from the curse of his bloodline and finally allow him to live an untethered life. 
what we see throughout the story is the remnants and legacy of a brighter age, one in which the story had a happy ending and ashina’s heros were successful in winning its freedom. the tragedy of the story, the crux of it, is in the handing over of this legacy from one generation to another and the way they try - fuck, genichiro tries so so fucking hard - and fail to carry it forward. the torch is being passed onwards, only to stumble and be guttered out. 
what ultimately makes the difference between wolf and genichiro, however, is the way each one interacts with their given duty and the way that wolf (in some endings) ultimately rejects the legacy that is being handed down to him. 
because okay we have genichiro, who picks up the duty that isshin hands him and burns himself into the ground trying to carry it out. he’s so desperate to uphold his duty and to protect ashina that he is forced to walk willingly down the path to great evil - creating the ogre creatures, kidnapping kuro to try and convince him to give him the immortal oath, everything and anything to create a weapon strong enough to hold back the tide, even if that weapon is himself. he carries out his duty, and it corrupts him, and it destroys him, and ultimately it is all for nothing. 
with wolf, however, this moment comes to a climax with [SPOILERS] owl’s return. he’s carried out his duty so far, he’s protected kuro and he’s followed his orders and he’s kept him safe - all at owl’s behest. remember, the father comes first, the master second. the reason wolf first starts serving kuro is because owl tells him to, and wolf’s duty is to owl. that is the duty he’s inherited - to be a weapon and a tool, to follow owl’s commands, to be a loyal shinobi in his service.
(and there’s something to be said here too, about the fact that wolf and genichiro are both ultimately weapons picked up and shaped by their adopted parental figures for a specific purpose - genichiro as a shield that protects ashina and wolf as a blade to cut down owl’s enemies)
the thing is though, is that wolf does come to care for kuro. he develops as a person, learns compassion, learns mercy, becomes more human than what owl had created him as. when owl comes to wolf and tells him to forsake kuro and hand over the divine heir, seeking to make use of his immortality, wolf has a choice. and its here, in this choice that we see how wolf’s own journey can either mirror or diverge from genichiro’s. 
if wolf obeys - obeys that duty, follows it, holds onto it with both hands and doesn’t let go, doesn’t think, doesn’t question - then he forsakes kuro and becomes a shura. like genichiro, following his duty and not letting go leads to him walking down into darkness and becoming corrupted. he becomes a monster, nothing inside him but violence and hate, the likes of the demon of hatred.
if wolf disobeys - if he rejects his duty, rejects the legacy that owl is trying to pass onto him, to be a true and cold shinobi, heartless and without feeling - then his path diverges from genichiro’s. in rejecting his duty, he frees himself and is able to a get to an (arguably) happier end. he breaks from the iron code and rejects what owl created him to be, ultimately deciding to disobey owl and give his loyalty to another, to choose, in essence to feel and care rather than to be cold and heartless. and yes okay there are variations on what counts as “happy” as far as the severing, purification, and heading away endings, but i think we can say that in any single one of them wolf is happier than he would have been in the shura ending. (okay yes in the severing ending that’s questionable, but at the very least wolf has the absolution of having helped kuro carry out his wish and finally reach peace, knowing his bloodline will no longer be abused).  
and i think its interesting, too, that the fact that wolf’s choice to go with or against owl, to reject or accept the duty and legacy being handed down by the previous generation, hinges on his relationship with kuro, a member of the generation to come. when wofl rejects owl, it is ultimately because he has decided that holding up the legacy of those who have come before is less important than protecting the future of those who are to come. he breaks from his duty to owl in order to provide the chance for kuro to break from his own heritage and the legacy of his bloodline in turn. 
in kuro, we see the third generation entering this scene. we have the glorious vanguard of the past, those aging great heros; we have the middle generation, now grown and struggling to pick up the torch of those who have come before; and we have the youngest generation, who grow up in the shadow of it all, innocents subject to the bloody aftermath of the legacy of their forefathers. 
and i just think it’s interesting, i guess, that for all that duty plays just a driving force in the motives of the wolf and genichiro, that it is ultimately only through rejecting duty and the burdens of the previous generations and choosing to walk his own path that wolf win a chance at happiness. in a story about inheritance, it is in the rejection of the path set out before you by others and in creating a path of your own that the story tells us we will find salvation. 
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breath away || chris sturniolo & colby brock
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SMUT. 18+. MINORS DNI. this is fluffy smut ngl to you guys. no actual sex sorry :( to my beloved readers: yes there will be a part two. yes i also have a spin off concept with sam & matt. writers block has been a BIG BITCH you guys. hope everyone’s summer is going well. enjoy!!
the finale is here
Parties were not your scene by any means.
You were new to the Youtube community or the whole ‘content creator’ thing. A career you thoroughly enjoyed, but was not built for the weak. You tended to be more of a recluse than a social butterfly. Tara Yummy was the first creator to attempt to befriend you, her attempt successful. Your collab broke the internet, Tara ecstatic for you. The two of you became quick friends, spending copious amounts of time together.
Your friendship and trust in her is what led you to this party, the blinding purple lights enough to give you a headache. You felt like a lost puppy, awkwardly trailing behind Tara as she introduced you to people. You knew she didn’t mind, but you felt out of place. Your head was spinning, meeting so many people in such a short amount of time. The place was huge, seas of people at every turn. Once Tara had circled back to Jake, you cleared your throat.
“I’m gonna go use the restroom i’ll be back,” You say, halfway telling the truth. You needed a moment to breathe, a moment to think. “Take the elevator down to the fourth floor, that’s the cleanest one,” Tara suggested, the two of you going your separate ways. You squeezed through the obnoxious couples making out, wheezling your way through the crowd. You almost tripped over your heels as you reached the elevator, two familiar faces waiting for it as well.
“Going up?”
Colby Brock. Handsome. Tall. Older. You were sure you had met him before. But where? You didn’t have time to think about it, realizing you needed to answer the question. “Down actually, fourth floor,” You replied, awkwardly standing beside him. The building Tara had booked for this party was insanely tall. You didn’t even want to think about how many floors this building actually had.
“You guys are lucky, i’m stuck going to the twelfth to try to find Nick.”
Chris Sturniolo. One of three triplets. Outgoing. Handsome. Charismatic. Tara would be freaking out for you right now if she saw this was the line up for your elevator ride. “Yeah I think Sam’s on the fourth floor trying to find his ex, i’m trying to find him and stop him,” Colby sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. You weren’t sure what to say, the dinging of the elevator snapping you back to life.
Chris gestured for you to enter first. “After you m’lady,” He said, causing you to shyly smile. You walked in, pressing the four button and leaning against the back wall of the elevator. Your feet were killing you, the heels you borrowed from Tara promising an inability to walk in the morning. Colby strolled in, Chris following behind him. He pressed the button for twelve, the three of you briefly standing in silence. The boys stood on opposite sides of the elevator, all of you facing each other.
“You and Sam just went to the Lizzie Borden house again right?” Chris asked. Colby smiled, his blue eyes addicting to look at. “Yeah, we felt like revisiting it alone. It’s such an interesting story,” He replied. Chris nodded, readjusting his backwards hat.
“Matt’s obsessed with that case, he thinks that-”
You could faintly hear both of the boys talking, your hearing dulling as the elevator slowly began to move. The stained yellow lights were off putting, the space suddenly seeming a lot smaller than it did when you entered. Your eyes flickered to the row of buttons, numbers one through thirty listed on the panels. Jesus fucking Christ. The elevator felt insanely small, the walls feeling like they could close in and squeeze you to death at any moment. You knew this was irrational, a fear you had developed when you were a kid.
You swallowed, your mouth running dry. Your eyes squeezed shut, the unsettling jolt of the elevator coming to a stop ensuing. You waited to hear the familiar ding of the elevator, followed by the sound of the doors opening, but you didn’t. You opened your eyes, the boys conversation long discarded as they stared at the elevator doors. “Is it supposed to do that?” Chris asked. If you weren’t so afraid you would’ve rolled your eyes. Colby approached the row of buttons, pressing the one to open the metal doors.
Nothing happened, the elevator appearing frozen between the ninth and eighth floor. You could see the digital number stuck, your heart beginning to race. Your ears began to ring, your eyes seeing Colby and Chris’s lips move with no words coming out. You leaned back against the metal railing, bracing yourself from falling over. You felt an unsettling dizziness wash over you, your gaze glued to the dirty elevator floor. What had you gotten yourself into? What if you died in here? What if the cord snapped on this old ass box and you all fell to your tragic deaths? What if-
“Hey! Are you okay?”
You blinked a few times, Colby’s large hands grasping your shoulders. He was shaking you, your vision faintly seeing stars as you looked up at him. His and Chris’s faces were full of concern, looking down at you. You nodded, swallowing. “She doesn’t look so good dude,” Chris commented. Colby elbowed him, before returning his attention back to you. “We’re gonna be okay, alright? Chris is gonna call somebody,” Colby said. Chris took the hint, whipping out his cell phone and beginning to make calls.
Colby’s blue orbs studied your face. “What’s wrong?” He asked softly. You were struggling to find the words, your mouth running dry. “Claustrophobic,” You sputtered out. Colby brushed a few stray hairs out of your face, tucking them behind your ear. “It’s gonna be okay,” He reassured, turning to Chris. Chris angrily shoved his phone in his pocket. “I have zero fucking cell service in here,” He sighed. Colby took out his own phone, his touch straying from yours.
Oddly enough you missed his touch, his hands on your shoulders providing comfort. “Chris she’s claustrophobic, I need to try to get help, can you talk to her?” Colby asked. He was aggressively typing away on his phone, trying to achieve one bar of cell service. Chris nodded. The boy before you was maybe your age, maybe a bit younger. You could never tell. “Hi ma,” He greeted. You gave a small wave, before your hand resumed its grip on the railing. Your knuckles were borderline turning white, Chris not failing to notice.
“Hey hey it’s alright, what can I do?” Chris asked, alarmed. You couldn’t find the right words, your eyes flickering around the elevator. It was so small, the walls threatening to close in every extra second you three spent hanging by a cord. You felt two hands softly cup your face, your gaze landing on their owner. Chris stood before you, his hands soft to the touch as his thumb grazed your cheek. “You’re okay,” He whispered. The strangers words were comforting, your breathing beginning to slow back down to a normal rate.
Chris had decent knowledge of anxiety, even if it wasn’t the claustrophobic kind. He knew the in’s and out’s of how to help Matt calm down. But you? You were just a pretty girl he was locked in an elevator with. Sure he knew your name, who didn’t? But your personality? Your ticks? How to calm you down? He didn’t know any of that. All he could truly speculate, was that you seemed to respond well to physical touch. He cleared his throat, the sound of Colby talking into his phone bouncing off of the small walls.
“Can I hold you? Is that alright?”
You nodded, murmuring an agreement. You weren’t sure what to expect, your cheeks beginning to turn bright pink. Chris’s hands strayed from your face, much to your dismay. He gently guided your hand to release the railing, sliding in behind you. Your back was pressed to his chest, his slender arms wrapped around your waist. “If you need to grab something, grab me. Don’t hurt yourself,” Chris mumbled. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his touch comforting. You felt tense for a moment, having a stranger so close to you. You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself as you decided to focus on Colby.
The brunette finally turned around. “I managed to call Sam. They’re looking into the elevator but they don’t know when it’s gonna be fixed,” Colby sighed. You tried to refrain from looking scared, ultimately failing as Colby walked over to you. “Hey it’s okay. What can we do to distract you?” He asked. Noting you were comfortable with Chris touching you he cupped your face, looking down at you with concern. Your mind was swarming with a thousand thoughts, ones of fear, terror, more fear, more terror. But you then remembered why you were there in the first place: Tara fucking Yummy.
And what would Tara fucking Yummy do if she was trapped in an elevator with two insanely hot guys?
“Kiss me,” You whispered. Chris turned his head to look at you, brushing your hair away from your shoulder. Colby’s eyes widened, as if he didn’t believe he heard you correctly.
“What?”
“Kiss me. Please.”
Colby slowly leaned down, his lips almost touching yours. His eyes flickered to yours for reassurance, before flickering back down to your lips. He closed the gap between you, pressing himself against you. Colby Brock tasted sweeter than you expected him to, the faintest taste of oranges crossing your tastebuds. You involuntarily bucked your hips between the two boys, your ass rubbing against Chris’s shaft. He took the hint, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your collarbone. You softly groaned in Colby’s mouth, grabbing handfuls of his shirt.
You briefly pulled away, heat rushing to your cheeks as you met Colby’s gaze. “Oh my God i’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. I-” You began rambling, unable to stop the words from spilling out. Colby gently grabbed your chin, guiding you to turn your head. Chris’s lips eagerly met yours, his kisses much rougher than Colby’s. You melted into the kiss, Chris’s hips grinding against you from behind. Colby’s hands grabbed your waist, his body against yours. They felt intoxicating, Colby’s lips placing open mouth kisses on your neck.
“Just tell us if you want us to stop,” Colby told you, kissing you up to your ear. He began nibbling on your ear lobe, one of your hands entangling itself in his hair. Chris pulled away from your lips, admiring how swollen they were. “We just wanna make you feel good ma,” Chris purred. His hands slid down to the hem of your short dress, his fingertips barely grazing your skin. You moaned as Colby resumed his assault on your neck, sucking at your sweet spot.
“May I?” Chris asked, his breath hot against your ear. You whimpered as Colby released your neck with a pop, your body quivering with desire. “Fucking please,” You whined. You could feel Chris’s hard cock from behind you, poking you. He slowly pulled up your dress, just enough to where your panties were exposed. Colby admired the view, smirking. “Never thought an angel like you would be wearing something like this,” He teased, stretching the band of your black lacey thong. He released it, the material snapping against your skin.
You felt like you could melt any moment, your body on fire. You were engulfed in the flames the boys had surrounded you with and you loved every second of it. “Can we play with you baby?” Colby asked, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You nodded eagerly, awaiting them to touch you where you desired. One of Chris’s hands slithered up to your neck from behind, tenderly squeezing your throat before releasing. “Words ma,” He purred, noticing how eagerly your hips buckled with his hand on your throat.
“Please, touch me,” You whimpered. Chris grinned into your neck as he pushed your thong to the side, rubbing slow circles around your clit. “Fucking shit,” You moaned, tilting your head back. Colby smirked at your reaction, running two fingers down your remaining slick. “So wet for us, what a good girl,” He mused, slowly pushing two fingers inside of you. Colby bit his bottom lip as your walls squeezed his digits, your body melting in between the boys like butter. Chris drew faster circles around your clit, helping you adjust.
“Doing such a good job ma,” Chris praised, relishing in the sound of your sinful noises as Colby curled his fingers. Colby couldn’t help but think of you as angelic, your walls milking his fingers and moans sounding like holy water. He began curling his fingers faster, watching as you gripped onto Chris for support. “Fuck, feels so good, Colby, Chris, fuck,” You moaned, gripping onto Chris like your life depended on it. His fingers were abusing your g spot, Chris’s circles only getting faster by the minute.
Colby grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Look at me, look at me as you fall apart on my fingers,” He ordered. He could feel your walls tighten at his words, a smirk creeping across his lips as you forced yourself to maintain eye contact with him. Chris’s hand on your throat came back to life, squeezing your airway. “Dont forget about me ma, you’re so filthy, letting two strangers play with you like this,” Chris said, his hips grinding against your ass as you stood in front of him.
Colby brought his lips to yours, swallowing your moans of the boys names as your legs began to tremble. You could feel the cord inside of you tighten, your body almost to the delightful edge you needed. “Awe did we make your thighs shake? You poor thing,” Chris teased, placing sloppy open mouthed kisses to your neck. You were sure your neck was going to be covered in hickies, ones you were going to have to explain later. But right now? All you could focus on were the thick fingers buried into your cunt and the friction being provided to your clit.
You playfully bit Colby’s bottom lip, releasing it with an involuntary moan. “Fuck i’m so so so close,” You panted, Chris’s grip on your throat tightening. You were seeing stars, the restriction of your airway only bringing you closer to your orgasm. “Go on, don’t be shy. Cum for us,” Colby encouraged, his blue eyes keeping intense eye contact with yours. You squeezed Chris’s wrist, leaning onto him for support. “You heard him. Cum,” Chris agreed. Their permission was all you needed, Colby’s eager lips swallowing your sinful moans as you came around his fingers.
You were seeing stars, euphoria washing over you. Chris was quick to release your throat, helping Colby hold you upright. You leaned your head against Colby’s shoulder, attempting to catch your breath. You were on cloud nine, your body craving more of the two men you were in between. “That was-” You began, the movement of the elevator cutting you off. The three of you jumped, Colby’s fingers quick to exit your cunt. Chris pulled down your dress, the boys quick to attempt to make you look decent.
Disappointment ensued as the three of you disbursed, awkwardly standing on opposite sides of the elevator once again. You took shaky breaths, clearing your throat as the elevator doors finally opened. Relief washed over Sam Golbach’s face as the doors opened, his face immediately lighting up. “Holy shit dude! We were so worried!” He said, going to hug Colby. Nick and Tara weren’t far behind, Tara giving you a big hug. “You need to call me if that shit happens again, I know the owners of this building. I can personally give them hell,” She told you. You nodded, your face flushed pink.
Tara looked at Colby and Chris, noticing your odd expression.
“Hey is she okay?”
“Yeah I think what just happened took her breath away.”
You shot Chris a warning look, before looking at Colby. “I’ll uh, see you guys later?” You asked cautiously. Chris shifted awkwardly, pulling his hoodie down to cover his raging boner. “The nights still young party girl, why don’t you come see us in the red lounge after you find the restroom you were looking for?” Colby suggested. Tara linked her arm with yours, beginning to talk away at a hundred miles per hour. She was leading you to the restroom, the one you were supposed to be hiding in to begin with. You looked over your shoulder, Colby shooting you a playful smile and Chris subtly winking at you.
You pretended to listen to Tara’s story, only one thought on your mind. You had to get to the red lounge. You needed Chris and Colby, no matter what it took. As you dipped into the restroom after Tara, you knew exactly what you needed to do.
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cairavende · 5 months
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My wonderful girlfriend got me Gideon the Ninth for Christmas and I realized why should I just give Worm recaps? Let's read some Locked Tomb! (We'll see how this format works, maybe I'll adjust it. Specifically might break stuff down into smaller segments instead of full acts, but I didn't think of doing this until after I had read all of act 1.)
Gideon the Ninth Act 1 (chapter 1 through 8) thoughts:
This book is so gay oh my god
Like, it's gay in ways I can't even explain. I love it.
Harrow beats the shit out of Gideon in chapter 2 and I don't know if I've ever seen someone get beat up in a more gay way.
"Oh Griddle! But I don't even remember about you most of the time." ROLL A FUCKING DECEPTION CHECK HARROW! You are saying this standing in the middle of the field you spent all night burying bones in just to foil her escape in the most dramatic way. You can't stop remembering her.
Gideon is the most herbo of herbos. I fucking love her. I love reading her PoV. She just knows punch and stab with sword and if those don't work than she'll just do them harder.
Also Gideon is SO fucking gay. Dear god. Dulcinea faints and Gideon turns off all though. HELP PRETTY GIRL. Nothing else.
Ok I could just make this whole thing "EVERYTHING IS GAY" but there is technically more than that.
I love how weird everything is and how little explanation is given. I don't want pages of exposition, I want to learn the world as it comes at me! This is perfect.
And just the very nature of things that seem weird not being given more than a passing thought in the book is information. Something may seem wild to the reader but it's so normalized to the characters that they wouldn't even think about the idea of it being different.
Lack of explanation also helps really show how much of a meathead Gideon is. Do the readers get to learn details about this thing? Only if it is a weapon, has tits, or Gideon is forced to listen while Harrow explains it. Otherwise no, why the fuck would Gideon spend her precious few brain cells on thinking?
And even if Gideon is forced to listen as Harrow explains it, the readers might not learn much cause Gideon might stop listening. I love her.
Aiglamene is wonderful. Crux is fine but I like her more.
Poor Gideon just wants a big sword that she can swing hard. It's not like she can't use a rapier. But why when she can go big sword?
SO MUCH CATHOLICISM
As someone who once was Catholic and then realized I was actually not a straight man, but instead a lesbian, I am in deep.
And the fucking slang used! Or whatever would be the right term. The shit they say! I love it. Just the weird sci-fi far future space necromancer universe and then suddenly "Are you asking me to . . . throw her a bone?", "Gideon had always known that this would be how she went: gangbanged to death by skeletons.", "Don’t hypothetically shove stuff up my butt again, it never does any good.", "Lo! A destructed ass.", "Well we were developing common sense, she studied the blade.", "Double Bones with Doctor Skelebone."
House of the First appears to be Earth. I kinda assume the House of the Ninth is Pluto, even though things obviously aren't in order given that the Seventh and Sixth are closer to the sun. Of course, I'm kinda expecting this to not technically be this solar system at all.
Undying Emperor, King of Resurrection, I Have Ten-Thousand Titles, Boss First, etc etc hasn't been on "Earth" in over nine thousand years. I wanna know MORE.
And the fucking Ninth House has their own prayer! Everyone else has one that the Ninth didn't know and then the Ninth had one that no one else knows! GIMME MORE!!!!
Also again, so many Catholicism metaphors or comparisons or whatever!
I could go on forever but gonna end this one with OH MY GOD SHE FOUND SUNGLASSES I LOVE HER. Fucking "I came prepared, my sweet." and "But then you couldn't have admired . . . these!" as she whips on the sunglasses. God. I nearly died.
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frownyalfred · 4 months
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OOOOOH CAN YOU IMAGINE the goons that the bats have bitten with too much force flaunting their scars like a fucking trophy between the criminals in Gotham. The more bite marks you have, the more of an annoyance you were to the bat
“I’m gonna find the kid who bit me,” Leo said, brow furrowed. “Little fucker left a nice imprint in my upper arm, see? Don’t tell me they can’t do some shit with that down at GCPD.”
“No one wants to see your gross fuckin’ arm, Leo,” Paul said, shoving at him one-handed. “Put that shit away and pretend like you’re actually looking at your cards.”
“I am,” Leo insisted, lifting his arm higher for the whole table to see. “Saul, your cousin still does that art shit downtown, right? Can he make a mold of this or whatever?”
Saul rolled his eyes. “Sure. Play a card, fuckass.”
“Bite mark analysis is an imperfect science.”
The room went quiet. One by one, the heads turned to the final member of the table.
“What’dya mean?” Leo asked, squinting. “Imperfect science?”
“Bite marks are notoriously unreliable evidence in court,” Matches Malone said, not looking up from his cards. “The science isn’t just imperfect. It lacks a basis in reality altogether. One mold could be evaluated by two different experts and yield three different results, depending on the way they’re presented. Notoriously reliable with juries though. That I’ll admit.”
“When the hell did you become a lawyer?” Saul muttered, eyeing Matches suspiciously.
“You read that in a book somewhere?” Paul cut in. “Lemme guess. You’ve been watching Dateline again, Matches.”
“That show with all the dead chicks,” Leo said, perking up visibly. “That’s some fucked up shit, man.”
“You got me,” Matches said, shrugging. “Still ain’t real. Good luck getting that plastered up, though. I’m sure you’ll catch your bird.”
“Your bird,” Paul jabbed at Leo’s bad arm with an elbow for emphasis. “You some kinda pedo or something? You want Robin over here to kiss it better?”
“Fuck off, man,” Leo said, growing red. He shoved at Paul, fumbling for his cards. “I’m out. Fuck you all too. Fuck kinda shit you mean, have him kiss it better—”
The door to the alley slammed shut.
“Fuck is his problem?” Saul muttered.
Matches shrugged, glancing down at the table. He flicked at the edge of his card with an oil-stained finger.
“Who’s up next?”
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shakingparadigm · 2 months
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no one’s talking about that half-naked alien petting till and i am both glad but also haunted by that. please tell me that wasn’t implying what i think it is. till has gone through wayyy too much and i will literally sob if it turns out he’s gone through this too
I had a post drafted about that but I didn't know how to feel about posting it at first. I'm just gonna reiterate it here though.
The entire first verse of ROUND 6 was actually pretty uncomfortable to watch, at least for me. I genuinely thought we were going to delve into that territory, you know. And I wouldn't put it past VIVINOS of all people to do it. The dim lighting, alcohol bottles, the very familiar environment of private rooms and drunk cruelty, it all resembles certain acts and situations that are unfortunately common within the performance industry. ALIEN STAGE obviously emphasizes the horrific aspects of stardom and could be read as a commentary on that kind of culture as a whole (constant performativity, lack of autonomy, performers as objects possessed by those of higher power, literal cutthroat competition, etc.), so exploring the topic of assault isn't unlikely, especially when it's so prevalent in that kind of fame. Still, I was jarred when I first watched the video.
The way that they handled Till was upsettingly familiar to me. It was slightly easier to bypass when Urak was simply shoving him via telekinesis. But a group of large, drunk aliens violently putting their hands on him, grabbing him by the neck and bending him on the table (it was at this point I began to feel a bit squeamish), it became a little too real? For me at least. And then there's your main point, the assaulting alien that was clothed in the scene before is now naked in the next, save for the open, unbuttoned shirt. And Till is on the ground next to him, his hair carded through and scratched by giant hands. Till is disheveled and sweating. It seems this was the lowest point of his night, seeing as how he dreams up an angelic apparition of Mizi. An escape, a salvation. Someone that could offer him a soft, gentle respite to balm the pain of his abuse. The way he desperately reaches out, shaking and exhausted, it's painful.
I know it's not explicitly shown in the video. It's not implied in posts (although from what I hear, there's traces of something similar in the Anakt Kit book), but you can't deny the thoughts that the imagery brings to mind, especially when said imagery is so vivid and visceral. I won't claim that this is the absolute message the team was trying to convey, nor that this is the correct way to perceive that scene, just that the pieces leading to this interpretation are there. VIVINOS videos are meticulously crafted, and the whole collection deals with disturbing concepts and topics. If they wanted to imply something, they'd know how to do it. Anyway, the first scenes struck a chord in me, to say the least.
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