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#I didn't expect to be so sap
arklay · 1 year
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bestie @steelport surprised me with some art of the ewskers for my birthday today and i haven't stopped staring at it since !! i've already yelled and cried to you but thank you again so so much ilysm ♡ // @sertuna
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sapsolais · 10 months
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💫
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pinespittinink · 2 years
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Hi!! Can I have Ink for the writing ask meme?
ink: what do you do to “set the mood” when writing?
if i'm honest, it's less what i add than what i take away! i don't need a specific set up or drink or snack or bit of stationary near me (though i might drag some crystals along for the hell of it if i'm writing out in public), but what's most vital to me is a distraction free zone with incredibly minimal noise.
people talking will distracting me beyond belief, because i will focus on their conversation-- this is the same for music with lyrics that are clear enough for me to understand. additionally, i can't have any visual stimulation, like if someone is watching a show or a movie i'm hopeless to get anything much done. video games might be a little different but that's hit or miss.
basically i need as much peace and quiet as possible.
send me a writer ask!
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 1 month
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TF141 getting a boudoir photo album as a wedding gift ♡
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A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN!!! Great, absolutely phenomal idea, dear anon. Simon's part is very sappy (I cried) which might be ooc for him?? Idk, that's how I write him/interpret his character! :) let me know who's your favorite 👀
~Fi 🐝
《Warnings》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, cunnilingus, Johnny's oral fixation (yes, that is a warning.)
It's still very sweet and lovey dovey with all of them bc I'm a certified sap <3
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─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
John would be grinning and smirking like a proper idiot when he lays his eyes on those delectable photos of you.
I imagine you had a date night at home, sipping wine on the couch and talking about your wedding that's supposed to take place in only 3 days. He's telling you how he can't wait to see you in your wedding dress and slip that ring onto your finger.
Be prepared to he called Mrs. Price the days leading up to the big day. John excuses it with "Need to practice, love. Don't wanna mess it up in front of anyone, eh?"
Sneaky bastard.
He knows what he's doing, you know what he's doing, all is well because if he only knew what that did to you. You're just talking, trying to get the nerves out now so you can go into your wedding with a clear mind and have a good time. When you tell him you have a gift for him, his eyebrows almost overshoot his forehead. Yeah, he knew that was a thing some people did, but he never gave it another thought.
In all honesty, marrying you was the best gift he could ever get. Which is why he feels slightly guilty that he doesn't have one for you (at least that's what you see, internally he's crushed) but that all goes out the window when you sit back down with a sleek beige photo album that has a little romantic quote on the front.
"And what's this, doll, hm?" His heart feels warm and fuzzy, thinking these are some lovely pictures of you together on holidays you went on, casual trips to the local pub or just some domestic shots you managed to sneak during his leave.
What he doesn't expect, however, is the angelic image of your plush body on full display, draped over a velvet chaise lounge with layered pearl necklaces hanging from your neck. This man is shell-shocked. If he wasn't frozen in place, he would've snapped the book shut.
You can basically see the connections to his brain frying. His jaw slacks, and only after what feels like 10 minutes he regains his ability to think and close his mouth. John is sweating and his cock is rock hard as he flips through the remaining pages.
He shoots you the occasional glance while he's trying not to hyperventilate. You just sit back and savor your wine, trying to hide your laugh behind the rim of your glass. You'd expected a reaction, of course, but you didn't think you'd render the John Price speechless just from a few suggestive photographs of you.
But what absolutely breaks the camels back (or John's, in this case) is the last picture of you. You're kneeling, slightly leaned back and supported by your arms, with one of his Flannels covering your soft tits. That alone would've been enough to drive him crazy, but the sight of his old dogtags sitting against your sternum has him groaning out loud.
The only other thing covering you is a simple pair of lace panties, cupping the soft curve and rolls of your tummy so beautifully, John was ready to take a bit out of that damn page.
He nearly misses the inscription underneath the photo;
To my John; the love of my life, the man of my dreams,
I love you.
You hold my heart and you will forever.
May I be so lucky to find my place in the stars by your side when the time comes, so we'll never have to be apart.
With all my love,
Mrs. Price
And that does it. The album snaps shut and you barely have time to put down your wine glass before John is all over you, taking handfuls of you, whatever he can reach. With how fast he smashes his lips on yours, he nearly gives you whiplash.
He's tugging and pulling at your clothes as well as his own, not saying a thing, just hungrily swallowing every one of your sounds and giggled objections before he decides the couch is uncomfortable and he moves you to the bedroom. You're hoisted up without a warning and you cling to his neck. Immediately, worried words start spilling from your lips, remembering how he'd complained about a sore back just today;
"John, baby, your back-"
"I don't give a flying fuck about my back, love."
He's heaving and grunting like a fucking animal, he's downright feral. Despite all of that, you're still laid down gently on the bed, John would never, ever be reckless with you. But he needs to be inside you now, he'll actually lose his mind.
Usually, he'd spent hours between your thighs first, but he just can't wait. He's pounding you into another dimension but with such gentleness in his gestures, it makes your head spin.
He's holding your hand, breathing sweet praises into your ear despite him filling you to the brim. His urge to claim you goes haywire and he fills you with his cum multiple times before he's sane enough again.
He's covered in sweat and his beard is wet from your spit from all the sloppy kisses he gave you. John will definitely make it up to you and eat you out for as long as you want after.
He'll make a copy of one of the photos and take it with him when he's on deployment, just for the nights he's feeling lonely.
His wedding gift to you are the hickeys on your thighs and tummy and new sheets because you two tore the other ones to absolute shreds.
♥︎
Johnny would probably have a boudoir album for you, too. You get at least one shirtless pic a day, so a whole album of his body on display or in suggestive poses basically screams Johnny. He's already drooling the second he spots that book because he knows what it is and that he's in for a treat.
He's buzzing with excitment.
You never really send nudes for privacy reasons, and then for you to do something like this hit him like a truck in the best way possible. You're standing opposite from him behind the kitchen counter, and you look so nervous to him.
Cue his signature shit-eating grin. You tap your fingers on the dark blue album before having enough of your nerves and just sliding it over to him with a few mumbled words of what it is.
"Awe, for me, mo leannan?" He's a teasing bastard, and he chuckles when you huff and turn your head, obviously flustered. Johnny is legit licking his lips, but when he opens the book, his grin fades so fast.
He knew it would be good, but holy shit, this was so much better than he expected. His pupils dilate as he takes in each of the pictures of you, all of you, all your curves and bumps.
Everything he loves about you. God, you're such a woman, he thinks to himself. Some with lingerie, some without. He's full on drooling at this point, and the only reason why he roughly wipes it away with the back of his hand is to not get it on these sacred images.
He smirks at the picture of you in a tub, all soapy, with pebbled nipples. An obvious dig at his nickname, but, god, does your ass look amazing when it's covered in a thin layer of bubbles. He loves lathering you up in the shower and feeling you up while you're all wet and slippery.
"Good thing I can hold my breath, aye, hen? Might even try to set a new personal record." He's grinning and chuckling meanwhile you give him a sharp glare. You can't deny that the idea intrigues you, though.
But this, oh, this one was him swallowing thickly. It's you in very sheer panties (they're barely even underwear) and his name patch is sewn onto the front. Your hair looks so nice, so do your thighs, he doesn't know whether to look at your eyes or your tits. The button on his jeans is about to pop off from his throbbing boner.
He can't take his eyes off that 'MacTavish' patch that sits right on your lower belly, with the slight curve it has to it from your soft tummy.
Johnny has to hold himself back from gripping the book too hard. He wouldn't want to ruin it.
"Steamin' bloody Jesus, bonnie..."
The album is shut and tucked under his arm, and Johnny jumps over the counter to get his hands on you. Or his mouth, more like. He has a huge oral fixation, so he loves sucking and biting on every inch of your skin. You're pushed back into the bedroom, even though you end up on the floor, and the book is thrown onto the bed.
He rips your shirt up and sucks at your tits and nipples, groaning and moaning at the taste of your skin, all while he's rubbing his clothes cock against your leg. You end up on your hands and knees with one of Johnny's hands on your lowerback while his face is buried in your cunt.
He's eating you out like he's been starved for years, and his stubble is already starting to irritate the skin of your thighs and ass.
You'll have the worst case of beard burn in the morning, but how could you care about that when his tongue is so deep inside of you?
Remember when I said he'd have a boudoir album too? Yeah, now you're in between his legs, your back pressed to his chest with Johnny's album in your shaky hands. And the way your engagement ring catches the dim light of the room has your eyes rolling back.
And Jesus christ, Johnny looks fucking phenomal. You clench around his fingers hard, and he doesn't even have to pull his head from your neck to know what photo you're looking at.
He's smirking and grinning like the ceshire cat, knowing that the image of him in a kilt with no shirt one is gracing your field of vision right about now.
"Ah knew ye'd like tha' one, bonnie..."
Johnny's cooing in your ear, telling you to keep looking at the pictures while he's knuckle deep in your pussy. His bare dick is pressed against your ass and you can feel him rocking his hips to get off.
He's mumbling all kinds of gibberish into your ear, but one of the few things you can make out is "mo bhean"* which pushes you over the edge. You won't be leaving that bed anytime soon.
*(My wife)
♥︎
Kyle is such a sweetheart. I've said it before, and I will say it again, he's such a cutie pie!!! But that doesn't mean he can't or won't get nasty.
He'd offered to make lunch, which was delicious as always, and now you're chatting casually about your day at your dining table. Your fingers are laced together, and he's wearing the biggest smile because all he can think of is how he gets to marry you in just a few days.
He's over the moon. He can't wait to see you walk down the aisle, say your vows to each other, and overall have a great time with all your friends and family.
But the thing Kyle is looking forward the most is the honeymoon. He'll have you to himself for 2 whole weeks and he's stoked. He can't wait to treat you to nice things, love on you, but he's the most excited to fuck you as your husband.
He may look sweet and 'innocent' but this man can fuck, okay. And he fucks well. He knows every little spot that has you mewling and he's so good at using them for his gain.
Kyle will fuck you into the mattress in the Hotel you booked, he's already made up his mind about that, but he wants to absolutely melt your brain by being so loving whole doing it that you can't help but cry out for him.
He has heart eyes at this point, watching you talk about all that happened today and he only snaps out of his dream world when you present the deep red album to him with a sweet smile.
He's got a hunch of what it is so there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. Still, he almost gets whiplash when he opens it.
There's no easing into it, just straight up tits, ass and tummy. And let me tell you, Kyle is loving every second of it. It's no secret that he loves your chub, and that fact that it's extenuated so beautifully in every shot makes his heart and his cock happy. He's a very balanced man after all.
He comments on every single photo because he think it's endearing how you get all flustered and giggly from his compliments.
One picture that has him taking a second, though, is one where you have a lacy band tied around your thigh, with a little golden 'Kyle' charm hanging from it. He's all smiley and giddy, but he does try to discreet adjust his trousers because, holy shit, that's hot.
"Have you still got that, dove? Would love to see it tied around your pretty neck."
All you answer is that he'll have to be patient and wait till the wedding night to find out. He's laughing and teasing now, but just what till you get to the last page, Gazy.
And the way his smile just melts off his face is priceless. His gaze is flitting between you on the page and you sitting across from him with a shot eating grin. All the blood that drained from his face went straight to his dick.
Not only are you wearing a set of lingerie in his favorite color, but you've got his iconic pair of sunglasses hooked on the center of your bra. And that's not all either, his eyes travel upwards and his base cap is sat on your head and you've got that beautiful smile of yours on your face.
He makes an audible noise, one that indicates you took his breath away, when he takes in the whole picture.
"How in hell did you manage to snatch my hat and my glasses from right under my nose?!"
"Skilled hands, babe."
He's laughing at you breathlessly because he's still enarmoured by the sight of you.
And Kyle will absolutely whisk you away and fuck you stupid in front of your bedroom mirror while you're wearing his hat.
It makes him feral, seeing you like that. He's got both of his arms wrapped around your middle and he's panting into your shoulder. He does look up from time to time to see your blissed out face all while still wearing his cap.
He lets out a strained moan everytime he looks at you in the mirror and his hips stutter ever so slightly.
Kyle is just spewing jumbled words of love because he's genuinely so happy. You make him so happy.
He honestly can't wait to give you your wedding gift. It's a little booklet filled with poems or quotes that reminded him of you, or of how you make him feel. And it will make you cry when he reads them to you.
Definitely not because he'll be ballsdeep inside of you while doing so...
♥︎
Simon, Simon, Simon.... first of all, he's completely blindsided by this. And he hasn't got a fucking clue what's in that black book you hand him one night when you're cuddling in bed.
There's just a giant question mark above his head. When you tell him it's a wedding gift, he goes silent and just looks at that album in his hands.
He never really got gifts, which obviously changed since he's been with you, but he's still not used to it. You're so thoughtful. And sweet. And kind, and perfect and-
he turns his head to you when you softly call his name and if you notice the slight sheen of tears in his big brown eyes, you don't mention it. You just encourage him to open the book. And when he does, a small huff and gentle smile leave him because how are you so perfect?
Yes, all of the pictures are all filthy, but they're all radiating of love and softness, and he can't get over it. How are you so soft? Simon can't get enough of you. You mess up his emotions in ways he never thought possible, and he can't help that his heart starts beating twice as fast.
That you did this for him means more than you could ever fathom, and he'll treasure this album until his end. He absent mindedly reaches for your hand as he flips through the pages, trying to tell you thank you when his words fail him, like they did so many times before with you.
He comes across a shot of your neck, a black leather collared fasten around it with a little silver skull charm. It makes him smile just a bit. He knows just how much meaning is behind it.
That you love him. All of him, which includes the Ghost. In cursive, 'Riley' is written right above your heart, and he gives your hand a squeeze.
Although you love the Ghost because it's a part of him, you've shown him that it's not all he is. That Simon is enough. That he should give Simon a chance and that he's not incapable anymore, like he was as a little boy. Ghost is sort of a protector of Simon, something not many people know, that's why he wears the mask outside of duty too. To shield himself.
But as much as the Ghost's service is appreciated, Simon can handle himself now. The Ghost will forever be with him, but so will you, and you'll wipe his bloody hands with a smile. You've shown him that you accept Ghost just as much as you accept Simon, and that means the world to him.
He sniffles ever so quietly, and you lean your head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He moves on, gently turning the pages, and as much as his heart is touched by your kind gesture of this album, that doesn't stop his cock from stirring. It's pictures of your naked form, after all.
He loves every single inch of you and he's told you and shown you so many times, kissed all your insecurities away and took your mind off any bad thoughts about yourself by fucking you so well and lovingly to the point of tears.
Never, in a million years, had he expected you to return these efforts. You kissed all his scars and held him softly when reassuring any doubts he had. That's when he truly and fully fell in love with you.
He can feel himself getting hotter with every passing image of your soft body bent in different positions and clad in delicate garments, if any.
The best for last, as always, and it's a picture of you kneeling in front of a mirror, completely nude. A picture of Simon in full military regalia is tapped to the mirror and it's surrounded by a bunch of hearts drawn on with lipstick.
His name is written under the picture in your handwriting, and he can see you holding a lipstick, in the middle of finishing another heart. His breath hitches just for a split second.
He swears he'll burn this photo into the back of his eyelids.
It shows him just how great and raw your love for him is, and it makes him all fuzzy on the inside. The text at the bottom finishes it all off, and he's actively holding back tears, overwhelmed by so many feelings for you.
Dear Husband,
We're flawed; but that's how I like us. You're you, and I'm me, and I wouldn't change it for the world. You've made me a better version of myself, and that makes me love you so much more. I'm so proud of you, Simmy.
Love,
Your wife
"Thank you, my love. Thank you for this, and for loving me and for everything you've done for me. I love you"
His words are soft and painfully honest as he gently sets the album aside. You've made him a better man. A better Simon. A happier Simon. A Simon that's slowly starting to heal.
It starts off with a soft kiss that slowly turns more desperate and needy to the point you're gently being pushed back onto the bed, your clothes are discarded, and Simon absolutely worships you. He kisses every inch he can reach and touching you in all the ways he knows you like.
And, yeah, Simon can be rough and fuck you stupid for hours, but tonight, he just wants to feel close to you, and make you feel as good as you make him feel by simply loving him. He's talking you through it, holding you while he makes sure you take every inch of his cock.
His strokes are slow and deep, just like his love for you, and he revels in the way your eyes roll back each time he slides into you to the hilt. The drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning and whining, and when he presses down on your pudgy lower belly to intensify the sensation, you're putty.
You two fuck the whole night like this, no matter how sensitive you are, you need to be close to each other.
And in the morning, he'll wake you up with his face buried in your pussy because he's out of his sappy mood and his only goal now is to absolutely ruin you.
Bonus: I can totally see Simon giving his dad the biggest middle finger known to man all the way in hell when he's standing by the altar on your wedding day. It just screams: 'fuck you, stupidly bastard. Despite all you've done to me and my family, despite all that's happened, I've persevered. I've overcome it all. Look at me now.'
Right after he's smiling up at the sky, knowing that his mum and brother are watching and that they would've loved you just as much as he does <3
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
I hope you enjoyed!! I love all my boys <3
(If you find any typos, it's 2.am. give me a break pls)
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vampyrsm · 1 year
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ꕤ 𝐀𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐚𝐫
ꕤ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ares!Bakugou x Aphrodite!Reader
ꕤ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.8k
ꕤ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Female Reader, MDNI, 18+ content, reader is married, unprotected sex, no prep, reader is cheating on her husband (with Bakugou), implied soulmates, Bakugou is much bigger than you, pet names used (my love, sweetness, etc.), back-to-back orgasms, squirting, creampie, Bakugou is deeply in love (he's a sap), praise, breeding, talks of having a child.
ꕤ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: So I decided to stray slightly away from the Greek Mythology we know, as in I didn't make them all related lol, that's just very complex and something I didn't want to think too much about. I do keep it somewhat 'canon' to what we know of Ares/Aphrodite's love affair and the outcome of the affair. When the reader refers to Enji as father, they are not related in my story - it's just how the other Gods often talked to Zeus as he was the Allfather. A quick rundown of the people involved: Zeus (Enji), Ares (Bakugou), Aphrodite (You), Hephaestus (Touya), and Hermes (Hawks/Keigo). If you're confused as to what Bakugou is wearing, it's this. Anyway, enjoy! Sorry for any mistakes, I tried to proof read but I'm only human.
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Golden chalices filled to the brim with the finest of red wines clinked together, sloshing the crimson liquid onto the hand-carved marble table. It was always a grandiose event whenever the Gods were gathered, everyone in Olympus knew when they were in attendance. Mount Olympus was buzzing with anticipation for days and nights leading up to the event when the Gods would arrive to greet their King.
Though with all the theatrics, it was never a pleasant experience for some Gods. 
One of them was Bakugou, the God of War, who remained poised by the marble columns wrapped in ivy. His own wine had been long forgotten the moment it was given to him, he was never one to drink when such an event happened. He couldn’t trust the King as far as he could throw him – and Bakugou had quite the throwing arm. 
He was unusually angry tonight, his arms crossed tightly over his scarcely clad chest and he wore a deep-set frown as he glowered at the table. It was loud, as expected, with laughter and boisterous shouting whenever someone got a little too excited. But it wasn’t just the noise that was driving the God of War to madness, but rather it was you.
You, sitting at the table with your own chalice that was dainty and filled with a finer wine. You had always had a taste for the finer things, and Bakugou was no stranger to such things. You smiled and spoke when you had to, but everyone at the table knew you were amongst the strongest there – no one dared to make a comment on just what you got up to behind closed doors. 
Everyone knew about your lustrous adventures, perhaps it was just a side effect of being the Goddess of Love and Beauty – forever doomed to yearn and want more. You attracted far too much attention to yourself, yet you always revelled in the way people would worship you and beg. 
It drove Bakugou crazy. You had the ability to wrap people around your little finger with a bat of your eyelashes and a coy smile.
And he was tightly coiled around your finger like a snake, refusing to let go. He couldn’t quite remember just when it had happened, but Bakugou knew that he was very much in love with you and he assumed he may always be in love with you until the end of time itself. 
But the world was cruel, even to the Gods. Bakugou may not remember when he had first laid eyes on you but he does remember the day he laid eyes on you when you were forced into a marriage arranged by the King. Enji had forced you into marrying his son, Touya – the God of Fire. Whilst that was surely a powerful title, Touya was neglectful to you and was often rageful when he discovered just what you had been up to. 
Touya was indeed in attendance tonight, and sat directly next to you with a distasteful look on his face as he glared at the other Gods who surrounded the table. His own chalices were empty consistently, and yet the effects of the rich wine hadn’t quite taken a toll on the God.
As soon as Bakugou had entered and seen Touya, he had wanted to turn around and leave immediately. But it was you who called out for him, much to the annoyance of your husband who grunted at you standing up hastily, leaning against the table and calling his name.
He could never resist the way you said his name, nor could he ignore the way you plead for him. 
So that’s how he had ended up brooding on his own, overseeing the event taking place whilst lamenting on how he could be working on war plans.
“And tell me, are you still meddling with the mortals?” Enji’s voice was naturally louder than the rest, demanding attention and he always got it. Everyone turned to look at Enji before they all settled their eyes on who was on the receiving end of such a question; you.
Not many people recognised anger in someone's eyes; a burning desire to turn to violence but Bakugou did. He lived off of that feeling, that desire to destroy was something that burned deep in his stomach daily. And he could see it in your eyes when you turned your gaze away from the mirror sitting in front of you.
“And do tell me, dear Father, are you still tricking women into giving you illegitimate children?”
There were a couple of gasps and a muffled snort of laughter from someone further down the table which you assume came from Natsuo. Everyone waited to see just how Enji would react, to see if he would bring down the weight of the world on you with just a flick of his wrist or if perhaps you’d be the one to strike first. 
Bakugou felt his muscles tense, shifting into a prime position to protect you, if it came to that. His eyes were locked directly on Enji. He watched as the wave of anger contorted his face, his scar unsightly in the light that filtered through the open windows and made him look more like his exiled brother than anything. 
“Perhaps it’d be wise for us to calm ourselves before another war is afoot,” Hawks spoke from his own seat, eyes shifting uncomfortably between the other Gods before settling finally on you. The God of Speed silently communicates with you to back down from a fight that surely will turn out ugly, Bakugou is of two minds when he practically sees the fire inside of you burn brighter. He wishes to see the wounds you’d inflict on Enji if you were to truly speak your mind, but he fears what is to come of it.
But it seems you have made up your own mind, and you rise from your seat. You level Enji with one long stare before turning away, ignoring the protests of your husband. Bakugou knows he’s not the only one who watches you as you leave, the sheer fabric on your body leaves nothing to the imagination yet you always hold yourself with a sense of dignity. 
The laughter and talking resume shortly after your departure, and no one is aware of when Bakugou slips out of the room in pursuit of you. Except for Touya, whose hand curls into a fist against his lap and pulls the scars taut until they threaten to rip. 
He traverses the long halls as if they were his own; he had spent many years in the place that the King calls his home, often talking of war plans. The red cloak he wears billows in his large strides, and the metal armour on his shoulders and shins clink loudly. He knows exactly where you would’ve wandered to, you always had a habit of returning to the one place where you felt in tune with nature.
Bakugou turns numerous corners until he’s met with the archway that leads out into the hidden garden. One would consider it overgrown with flowers and greenery, ivy clings to the cracked marble arch that Bakugou ducks under to avoid hitting his head. He follows the obscured path just as he had many times before, careful steps to avoid the thorn bushes that lay in wait for their next victim. 
He follows the sound of running water until he comes to a stop. There you are. Sat amongst the bed of flowers beside the running waterfall that falls off the side of Mount Olympus. Your back is to him, yet he knows you well enough to know that you’re very aware someone is watching you. 
Your hands still on the flowers you had been chaining together, though you don’t turn to face him just yet. You remain in place whilst he approaches slowly – like he was approaching a wild animal.
“Have you come to give me a lecture on why I shouldn’t start wars without consulting you first?” You speak finally, and Bakugou recognises the tone in your voice. You’re exhausted. 
“It had crossed my mind.” He says simply, settling down into the spot next to you which earns him a glare when he crushes one of the roses with the heel of his foot as he stretches his legs out. He shifts the iconic helmet that he often wears off to the side, the red feathered strip blowing softly in the wind. 
“Then tell me, my love, why have you followed me? You know that it’ll only anger him further.” One would think you were referring to Enji as him, but Bakugou knows you’re speaking about Touya. 
“I’ll show him the true meaning of anger, he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you or me.”
You hum in response to his words, not entirely believing him yet he doesn’t feel hurt that you don’t jump to his side in agreement. 
“Answer my question, Katsuki. Why did you follow me out here?” 
“Why did you return to our spot?” He always did this, answered you with a question until you huffed in annoyance and turned to look at him. He knew you could see the way his eyes lit up with your attention finally on him, and he bathes in the way you smile so delicately at him. 
“Because I knew you’d come. You always come.” 
His fingers brush along your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before the same fingers that have murdered thousands of men brush down along your jaw. He takes the time to admire your beauty, much to your delight, he traces the hollow of your throat with his thumb when his hand hooks around the back of your neck.
“I will always find you, my love.” Bakugou breathes the words simply before he’s surging forward to press his lips to your own. The feeling of butterflies exploding in his stomach, an odd feeling when he’s so used to the eternal lust for violence that boils his blood. 
His lips move in time with your own, a dance between the two of you that had been practised for hundreds of years. You lean further into him, your hands brushing against the golden skin of his chest and the strap that holds his armour and clock in place. His own hand curls further against the back of your neck, holding you in place as he has his fill of you. The taste of the wine on your lips is still present, and even more so on your tongue. It has him dizzy with the sweetness of it, the way it blends so perfectly with the natural essence that oozes from you. You always had a talent for stuffing his head with soft cotton and filling every one of his senses with you.
You were like the sweetest fruit he had ever tasted, perhaps it made you sweeter that you were considered forbidden and he couldn’t help but sink his teeth further into you.
You all but moan when he does in fact bite the plumpness of your bottom lip, and it’s enough to surge him on. He’s laying you in the bed of flowers, your hair sprawling out behind you in a way that even the most talented of artists would only be able to capture just a fraction of your beauty. 
His body is huge over your own, caging you in from the outside world and capturing you in the world the two of you had built for each other. You both had always felt so enamoured with one another, true soulmates you had once said. He can’t deny the fact that you were very much correct with that comment, his soul had always been tied to your own from the moment you had first met him. 
Bakugou is the one to break first from the kiss (as always), yet he doesn’t move far. His lips still brush against your own when he pants, leaning onto one forearm beside your head whilst the other freely explores along your throat, down along your collar bones before he lays a hand over your breasts.
The sheer material doesn’t do much to protect you from his feel, his callouses catch on the silky material as he brushes the tip of his finger over your budding nipples. He can feel the way your heart hammers away beneath your skin like a tiny hummingbird, you’re excited he knows but this type of excitement was adrenaline induced. It was intoxicating. 
“You’re as beautiful as ever,” and the way he breathes your name is unlike any of the followers who say your name in prayer, it’s invigorating that you can get a man of destruction and bloodlust to whisper your name in such a tone. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of your beauty.”
“And I’ll never tire of yours,” your fingers this time brush along his jaw, touching the scars that show just how dedicated he is to his role as the God of War. You follow along his jaw, his cheekbones and the crooked bump of his nose before you trace over his eyebrows with your thumbs. “I could admire you for all of eternity, and never grow bored of your comeliness.”
Bakugou chuckles, quiet yet you feel the rumble of it when your hand presses to the side of his neck. “You speak too much.” 
“Then perhaps you should change that.”
And he just grunts in return, before he’s diving back in to kiss you. This time with renewed vigour, a need to swallow you whole and devour the love you pour for him and only him. His fingers move to trace over your body once again, following invisible lines he had mapped out over the years of exploring your body so freely. It’s like second nature for him to drag his fingers over the fullness of your breasts before they dip down along your waist, your hips and across your stomach.
All the whilst you writhe beneath him, always one to submit to the lust first. Bakugou however wasn’t far behind you, his head span with the heavy scent that filled the air. Sweet like the richest of apples, delicate like the pink and white flowers that bend beneath the weight of your bodies tangling together. Yet there was always a tang underlying beneath the sweetness of it all, one that Bakugou had come to realise years ago was your arousal. So pure and so very intoxicating, it drove him forward once again.
Your legs all but part for him when he pushes forward, your knees bending to press into his sides whilst his hips settle against your own. He’s unsurprised to be met with the warmth, and wetness, that lies between your legs. You had never been one to adorn material that restricted you in ways, and he is thankful to have attended in his full attire for the party. His Pteruges does nothing to stop you from feeling just how hard he was already.
Bakugou continues to dominate the situation, just as he does with any task. Your hands paw uselessly at the metallic belt holding his pteruges in place, whilst your calves brush against the bareness of his thick thighs. He chuckles against your mouth, breathing in for the first time in what feels like an eternity. His eyes crack open just enough to see the look on your face; needy and wanting.
“Anyone could find us here.” Yet Bakugou makes no move to leave, his hips roll against your own to elicit the most beautiful of sounds from your throat.
“That’s never stopped us before, I need you Katsuki–.. Please.” You whine, finally getting your fingers to hook against the metal before it falls loose between the two of you. All he can do is smirk down at you, using his free hand to push the skirt-like attire down his thighs before kicking it off to the side to join his helmet.
Then he sits up on his knees, watching as your eyes immediately drop to stare unashamedly at his length. It droops against his thigh, thick and leaking precum profusely. He makes a show of unbuckling the large leather strap across his chest, shouldering off the heavy shoulder pads before his cloak flutters down with it. 
Bakugou remains on his knees as he watches you draw the sheer material covering your shoulders down until it falls apart around you, falling behind you like a sheet for the both of you to lay on. You’ve always been open to displaying your body before the God of War, dragging your fingers along your own breasts to toy with your nipples before you grow bored and move further down. 
Bakugou can’t draw his eyes away, following the invisible lines you trace down… and down… until they rest between the apex of your thighs. You spread yourself lewdly, uncaring for the squelch that tells him just how aroused you are at this very moment. It has him groaning deep in the back of his throat, his blood boiling just like it did before a fight. You’re another thing he must conquer, put you back in your place beneath him.
“You’ll drive me to madness,” Bakugou whispers, not intending for you to hear but you apparently do. You smile, yet you do not reply, clearly determined now to see just how quickly you can drive the man known for his courage and valour into the depths of chaos. 
Your fingers dance between your legs for a moment, brushing up and down along your soaked lips before they swirl and circle against your clit. The level of just how wet you are helps with the easy glide, easing you further into your delirious state of lust. 
Bakugou feels like he’s bewitched, eyes unable to blink away from the sight of you toying with yourself. It was nothing new, he had in the past made you masturbate in front of him for his own enjoyment. It was something that filled his chest with a sense of power, that you were doing all of this for him — it made him greedy for more.
“But perhaps madness would not be so bad, if you were by my side.” 
“I will forever be by your side, my sweetness.”
Sweetness – a name only you could use on a God like Bakugou Katsuki. Only you could call him something so gentle when he had witnessed enough bloodshed and war to fill four lifetimes. Only you could make the otherwise stoic man smile, and crumble like the weakest defences. His heart thunders in his chest when he dives back down into your space, the warmth of his bare chest against yours is all-consuming. 
He feels himself lose himself to the rhythm of your bodies, his hips rolling against your own once again but this time his cock is free. It catches against your lightly sensitive clit, drawing out a breathy sigh from between your bitten lips.
“Give yourself to me,” you mumble against his lips, your fingers moving from their previous position to thread themselves through his golden wheat-coloured hair, holding softly at the roots to keep his face just in front of yours. “All of you. I want all of you.” 
“Then you shall have me.” 
His lips press into yours as an effort to stop the volume of your voice when he breeches you with the thick head of his cock, whilst he would’ve loved to divulge in foreplay and excite you further he knows it’s too much of a risk to spend that much time alone with you. He already suspects soon someone will come seeking you, and that will only lead to more unfortunate events unfolding.
You don’t protest however to the way he splits you in half, your thighs fall apart further to accommodate him the best you can despite the sharp pain that fills your pelvis. Bakugou openly groans against your panting mouth, a low rumble that sounds like he’s in great pain when he finally bottoms out in you. 
It had been far too long since he had last fucked you. You had been sent away from Mount Olympus more and more often until it was once in a blue moon that he’d lay eyes on you. His soul yearned for you every single day, and the only way he had been coping with that loneliness was to become more ruthless with the men he commanded and the mortals who worshipped him. 
The two of you remain there, encapsulated in the little world the two of you build for each other when you come together. His forearms lay on either side of your head, his thumbs brushing delicately against your temples whilst he admires your features so close. Your own hand plays gently with the hairs at the nape of his neck, whilst the other strokes along the broad expanse of his scar-ridden shoulders.
“I’m in love with you,” it’s you who whispers it, and he wonders if you plucked that thought directly from his brain. It has him smiling once again, a rare occasion to happen so often in quick succession.
Bakugou leans down the short distance, his thumbs brushing into your hairline before he presses his lips to yours in a short yet fulfilling kiss, “I know.”
He so desperately wishes to declare his love for you but it would be no different to declaring war. It hurts his heart to not tell you just how much he loves you, yet he knows you understand this much. You don’t frown or get upset with his choice of words, not when he lays another kiss that lingers against your forehead before his hips roll once again.
It’s a slow pace at the start, sensual and it’s enough to convey his true feelings for you. A man who could crush another man’s skull in his bare hand holds you with such a delicate embrace, his hips don’t hammer into your own with the strength you know he harbours. He always took his time at the start, savouring the tightness of your walls when you clench around him as the tuft of the hair nestled just above his cock brushes against your clit.
He continues with this pace until one of his hands wanders down along your body again, retracing the same path until he finds your thigh. He takes a gentle hold of it, and the largeness of his hand squeezes as much of your thigh as he can before he’s hooking the same thigh over his forearm. 
It’s the only warning you get before he’s leaning back from you, it leaves him open to your eyes as you watch his muscles work with the new pace he sets. It’s more aggressive, more like the God of War that you know. It has your tits bouncing harshly with each rut of his hips, the slapping of skin against skin is loud in the otherwise silent garden.
His golden skin glistens in the sunlight, the sweat that gathers in the hollow of his throat expands all the way down to his adonis’ belt. His biceps bulge and tense when he rolls his head back in ecstasy, exposing the bobbing of his Adam’s apple when he swallows hard before his lips part in the most beautiful of moans. 
It wasn’t often he was so vocal in his pleasure, only reserving that right for you. It doesn’t go unnoticed either, you squeeze around him deliciously to pull another note from his throat that sounds a little more strangled. You giggle beneath him, only to be cut off by a particularly harsh slam of his hips against yours. The tip of his cock bullies its way through your walls, ramming against that one spot that only he seems to be able to reach. 
“You dare laugh at me?” He bares his teeth, quite the vision of the fearless God yet he shows no true malice behind his words. If you were to put a word to it, you’d say he was being playful.
“Never,” you manage to breathe between your moans, eyes fluttering in an attempt to stay open as you watch the man above you work as hard as he can to push you closer and closer to completion. “I-I would…” you trail off, and this time it’s Bakugou who laughs at you but it’s broken into a low groan. 
“Hah, drunk off of my cock already, my love?” He’s always been crude with his words, it makes your stomach do flips along with the added term of endearment. “How long has it been since you were treated like the Goddess you are?”
His words sting, unintentionally digging into wounds that grow old, tearing them apart for his prying eyes. You meet his gaze, eyebrows furrowing to show just how much his words hurt – the truth had always hurt the most.
“Too long,” you moan when he hoists your hips up just a little higher, both of your legs now wrapped around his waist whilst his hands grip harshly at your hips. He fucks into you harder at this angle, impossibly reaching deeper and deeper into you until you swear he’s going to touch your very soul; though perhaps that is his goal.
Bakugou doesn’t offer a reply, but rather a grunt. His thumb rolls down over your stomach before he reaches your clit, and he plays with it cruelly. The pressure is harsh, and he’s unrelenting in the speed at which he toys with you. He only has one thing on his mind right now, and that is to make you cum for him in a way only he can make you cum. 
“Give it to me,” he grits his teeth, jaw working as he tries to fend off the urge to fill you with his cum. “Cum for me.” 
He commands you, and you wordlessly obey. It feels like you’re freefalling from the top of the mountain you’re all perched upon, your head falls back into the plush bed of flowers and your mouth opens up in a scream of pleasure. Your eyes roll back until you see nothing but white, and Bakugou doesn’t let up in the way he’s fucking you.
He fucks you harder in fact, inflicting a tingling-like pain between your thighs. He not only works you through your orgasm but forces you right into a more intense one, it has your legs tensing and shaking. Your hands curl uselessly into the grass beside your head, tugging at your hair when you moan his name loudly. Perhaps he should’ve worried about how loud you were becoming, but a deep part inside of him wanted everyone to know just who you were devoted to. 
His thumb is replaced by two fingers, he swipes aggressively against your clit until you’re struggling to catch your breath. Your chest expands with the effort, whilst your knees try to crush into his sides fruitlessly. Bakugou has never shied away from the fact you were more of a generous lover when it came to orgasms, he beamed with pride whenever you blessed him with one such as this. He’s uncaring for the way your juices squirt against his pelvis and drips down his muscled thighs, if anything it encourages him to fuck more out of you.
“That’s it, such a good girl.” He praises effortlessly, fucking you through the intensity of your orgasm until his hips roll to a gentle stop. His hands that were once in a vice grip on your waist gently massage against your thighs, soothing the tensed muscles until you finally relax as best you can in the position he still holds you in. 
He lowers you carefully down until you’re flat again on the floor, and his hands effortlessly roll you over onto your stomach. Those same hands smooth over the expanse of your back, pressing into your lower back to ease the ache he knows often builds there whenever he bends your body to his will. 
Bakugou carefully raises your hips once again, positioning himself over you and you don’t protest when he pushes himself back inside of you. You rest your head on folded arms, angling your head just so that you can see over your shoulder at the mountain of a man who fucks into you slowly once again. He bends easily at the waist, pressing a delicate kiss to your shoulder.
“I’m not done with you yet,” is all he offers before he’s fucking into you again in earnest. You moan into the crook of your arm, eyes still narrowed in his direction to watch the way his mouth falls open and his eyebrows crumple together. The angle he holds your body in is sinful – your thighs squeeze together to make it impossibly tighter around the thickness of his cock. 
In this position, with your hips raised and head in the flowers, Bakugou can’t help but feel the rush of power that fills his body. To have such a powerful Goddess such as yourself bending under just a flat palm to your spine is driving him to fuck into you hard. Too hard perhaps, as he knows he’ll be leaving bruises on the back of your thighs and ass by the time he’s done. But he can’t help himself, this need to cover you in marks – his marks – was growing to be too much. 
You were his, and only his. He didn’t care what the fuck Enji nor Touya said. You were designed to be with him, you were his opposite, his other half. He’d die before he gave up on you. He’d do anything to ensure you were his, forever.
The idea hits him in the gut like a spear, it makes him grunt deep in his chest and fingers flex against the fat of your hips before he squeezes hard. He knows of one way he could secure you to him for the rest of your lives. 
“I should fuck a child into you.” He groans, the words pour from his mouth untapered whilst his mind runs haywire on the idea of you being round with his child – a child born from two Gods such as yourselves surely would be enough to kick Enji from his throne. “A son. Fit for the throne.” 
You watch him over your shoulder, and he meets your gaze easily. His eyes hold nothing but love and adoration for you, you know a child would definitely bring the two of you together forever. The idea alone has you nearly crushing him between your thighs, enough to cause him to grunt and come to a stop buried to the hilt.
“I take that as a yes, my love?” 
“Yes, Katsuki. Please.” You plead, and the ash-blonde God doesn’t have to be told twice.
He fucks you now with a new purpose, to breed you. His hips slap against the roundness of your ass, his fingers reaching to grasp and grope at you. Bakugou is unashamed in the way he marvels at your body, pulling your cheeks apart with his hands to watch the way your pussy swallows him whole despite the size of him.
His balls ache with the need to cum, he yearns for it every single time he’s with you. Yet he was never granted permission to do so; given you were the Goddess of Reproduction, he knew his seed would take to you – which would’ve caused many problems in the past. But now, he’s uncaring for the problems that may arise. He knows he would wage a thousand-year war for you as long as it meant he got to call you his. 
“Katsuki, cum for me, my love.” You moan, panting hotly into your arm in a futile attempt to muffle your whining. 
Bakugou has always been unable to ignore your pleas.
He cums, and hard. His hips stutter at first, fingers curling harshly against the skin of your ass. His hips rut down into your own, hard enough to make you yelp and bite at your arm. You can feel the way his cock jumps and throbs in the depths of your walls, the white seed he spills is molten hot, just like the fire that courses through his blood. 
Bakugou doesn’t stop the roll of his hips until he’s truly spent, both of his hands come to slam into the ground on either side of your head. His panting breath brushes against the sticky sweat on your bare shoulder before he lays kiss after kiss on you. 
“I love you.” He whispers against your ear, pressing his nose into your hair just enough to smell the delicate soaps you use to bathe in. 
“And I love you, more than anything.” You reply just as easily, turning just enough to let his lips brush against your own. The kiss you have now is just as it was at the start; it’s filled with adoring love and underlying longing.
He slips from you easily, but not without hoisting your hips up once again just enough to ensure none of his cum leaks from you. You laugh, but don’t stop him. 
“You truly wish to have a child with me?” You ask once he lays down in the grass next to you, tugging his red cloak from somewhere to the side over the naked expanse of his lower half. 
“Have I ever lied about something I want? Of course I want this.” 
You hum in response to his words, eyes finally fluttering shut to bask in the warmth of the sun and the tranquil feeling that slowly settles over the two of you. Bakugou continues to lay next to you, an arm behind his head whilst his free hand strokes through your hair to play with the various flowers embedded there.
“Then I hope you’re ready for everything that comes with a child.” You smile when Bakugou laughs, opening an eye to look at how he practically glows in the sun. 
“Woman. I have commanded armies of thousands of men, I have killed Gods with my bare hands. You think a child would bring down the almighty God of War?” 
“Maybe that’s your weakness.” 
“Madness,” he rolls over onto his side, brushing away the hair that’s fallen into your eyes before he kisses your eyebrow gently. “You are my weakness, my love.”
And all the whilst, neither of you is privy to the set of burning blue eyes that watch from the archway of the door. And neither of you are aware that Touya leaves to talk to his father – but not to demand you be humiliated for your adultery but rather for a divorce.
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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sounds like a date
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is sharing food' rated g | 743 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting
💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
"Can I have a fry?" Eddie asked with his mouth half full of the last fry he'd stolen off Steve's plate.
"Why didn't you just get your own fries?" Steve asked, handing him a fry from his plate.
"Because I only wanted a couple and you always share with me," Eddie shoved the fry into his mouth.
That was true; Steve always shared his food when they were having their usual date night at the diner. In fact, he pretty much only got fries because he knew Eddie would want some.
He preferred just eating his turkey club sandwich and smiling over at Eddie who always ordered two milkshakes because he could never decide on a flavor, a cheeseburger, onion rings that he complained were soggy every time, and a chef salad for balance.
Eddie never finished his food, or the milkshakes, but he always finished Steve's fries.
So it became an unspoken routine, something Steve wasn't even sure Eddie noticed even after months of doing it. Robin said he was a sap for doing it, but he didn't care.
"How's the chocolate shake?" Steve asked as Eddie dipped another stolen fry into it. "Good with the fries?"
"Yeah, but the strawberry is better. They didn't add extra chocolate syrup this time," Eddie half-pouted, as if he didn't complain about their lack of chocolate in the chocolate shake every time he ordered it.
"Can I have a sip of your Coke?" Eddie asked after another minute of stealing fries from Steve's plate.
Steve wordlessly handed his cup over, surprised it took him this long to ask for it. He usually asked way before he'd even started on the fries.
Eddie, as expected, took a few large sips, almost draining the rest of the drink.
"Why doesn't the waitress ever bring us napkins?" Eddie asked as he set the cup back down in front of Steve.
Steve handed him one of the napkins he'd grabbed from the table they passed on the way to their own. The waitress did always forget to bring them, so Steve prepared.
"You're so good to me," Eddie smirked, brushing his foot against Steve's ankle under the table.
Steve was pretty sure the waitress knew what was going on between them and just hadn't bothered to say anything, and the rest of the diner was empty. Their date night was pretty late, right after Eddie's Hellfire night with the kids that always seemed to go longer and longer. It was damn near midnight now, most of the town in bed, the rest up to no good somewhere else.
It was peaceful, being here with Eddie like this.
It was a look at a future they could have, at least a version of it, though neither of them planned on staying in Hawkins forever.
Steve slid his plate of the few remaining fries over to Eddie and wiped his hands on his napkin. "Finish 'em. I'm done."
"You didn't even eat any," Eddie pointed out before grabbing another one.
"Wasn't that hungry, I guess."
"Mhm," Eddie smirked knowingly, but didn't comment further.
"All set for the bill?" The waitress came by to ask, tapping her pen against the pad of paper. "Who gets it tonight?"
Eddie pointed at Steve, like he did every single week they did this.
Steve took the bill from her hand like he did every single week.
He pulled out his wallet, grabbed the $10 in cash he always kept there for date night, and handed it back to her.
Eddie waited until she walked away to pull out his wallet, grabbing $2 for a tip.
"You know at some point, you may have to actually pay for a date," Steve said as he slipped his jacket on.
"Maybe," Eddie shrugged, like he knew Steve loved paying for their date, made him feel like he could provide. Eddie joked it was his inner caveman. "Maybe I'll just take us on a nice road trip with all this money I'm savin'."
"Oh?" Steve froze.
Eddie looked back at him, beaming smile.
"Yeah. Next month sound good to you? A tour of diners across the midwest. Every night is date night. All my treat," Eddie suggested, like he'd already had this planned for a while. "I'd love to steal your fries in new places, Stevie."
Steve felt himself blushing, somehow always surprised at the lengths Eddie went to to make him feel so loved.
"Sounds like a date."
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elementroar · 6 days
Text
Analysis of Paracelsus' initial bloodlust and its longlasting effects on A.B.A (Part 2)
Analysis behind the backstory and personal story arcs of A.B.A. and Paracelsus (part 1)
So this actually started out more of a 'funny' post, but I realized that it really is a very important insight into how A.B.A. and Paracelsus function and interact, especially for his earlier days in XX/Accent Core +R
And I wasn't joking about the vore. It's not in the erotic sense...but it certainly is in the 'literally eating parts of your partner ' sense...
Also apologies for the long word dumps, it got wordier and longer than I expected.
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Paracelsus (used to) REALLY love blood
It goes without saying, Paracelsus really loves blood. Well he used to anyway.
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By STRIVE, he says he felt he lost his sanity whenever he gets hyped on blood in the past. To the point, he has sworn off blood (and violence) as if it was an addiction. Basically, he has managed to go clean sometime between their last appearance and STRIVE.
To not go too far into his backstory again (which you can read here), Paracelsus is a magical axe that fed on blood and increased his own power with blood; and would use warriors as hosts to cause more bloodshed and thus gain more blood and power for himself. Paracelsus doesn't need to 'eat' blood to survive (he was left host-less for about 20 years, and now abstains in STRIVE and is just fine), making the addiction metaphor seem to be accurate.
Back in XX/ACCENT CORE, he needed to drink fresh blood to transform into his superpowered Moroha mode (this is mechanically replaced by Jealous Rage mode now). Similar to his current gameplay, he could get blood and transform by A.B.A. piercing someone with his bladed end; or if A.B.A. fed him one of three blood packs she'd have on her.
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He reacts pretty much like a dog getting a treat, anticipating it when she reaches into her pockets for a pack too. And he truly didn't care where the blood comes from, even if it's from A.B.A. herself.
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A.B.A. coughs up blood and all Paracelsus wants to do is have a taste. Note that he barely actually reacts to her or himself getting hit or fighting in the old games. It's kind of a stark contrast to his many reactions and concern for her wellbeing now.
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Make no mistake, despite being "kinder and gentler" than how he treated his previous hosts - by not completely mind controlling her into a frenzy and caring enough that he doesn't want her to die - Paracelsus was truly obsessed with drinking blood still, and all the fighting skills and power he imparted on A.B.A. was to make her strong enough to defeat opponents and gather blood for him too. Hence the 'manipulation' he felt guilty of in STRIVE.
And he gets even more bloodthirsty in Moroha mode aka what Paracelsus is without his 'sanity'.
You're the worse you when on blood
Prior to STRIVE and Paracelsus' current sludgy form, his powered-up form gave him a goat's head and his persona changes into that of his old berserker self.
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This increase in aggression and bloodlust also affected A.B.A. through their empathetic bond, making her also take joy in violence and also clearly hyperventilating and tweaking out in some animations, like she's high.
Not to mention that to fight in this mode, every time Paracelsus makes a successful attack, A.B.A. also gets damaged (hence 'Moroha' mode as it means 'double-edged'). In-universe, this could mean that Paracelsus is sapping both the blood of an opponent and A.B.A. at the same time, indiscriminately as he says.
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And he seems somewhat crueler in this form, as he has an even more violent and vicious state above Moroha mode called Goku Moroha mode. He enters it by consuming another blood pack, but he also seems to bite down on A.B.A.'s hand without a care and holds onto it while he transforms.
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The impact of all this on A.B.A
Picking up Paracelsus was truly a double-edged sword/axe for A.B.A. On one hand, he was older and savvier about the outside world (even though he spent like 20 years just rusting away on the ground somewhere) and having him as her emotional support key and literal weapon led her to actually daring to explore the outside world, and he provided and (attempted to) advised her on things she didn't know about.
On the other hand, Paracelsus' satiating his bloodthirst was still his main objective, and it was also hurting A.B.A. Although Paracelsus was making some effort to not outright get her killed, A.B.A's additional resilience as a homunculus probably also helped her survive take being Paracelsus' host as long as she did.
Paracelsus was the original toxic element in their relationship, and it's likely over the years he's come to realize and regrets the harm he was doing to A.B.A. constantly, and why he has completely sworn off blood and violence entirely by STRIVE.
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However, his bloodlust fueled and amplified the worse tendencies of A.B.A. from early on, and this seems to have stuck with her till the present in STRIVE. Her current extremely violent reaction when feeling jealousy or anxiety is likely how she's been conditioned to do so by Paracelsus, even when he himself is no longer the source of that bloodlust.
The difference now is that A.B.A.'s new powered-up state of Jealous Rage is mainly fueled by her wrath and fear instead of Paracelsus' bloodlust. Paracelsus becomes sludge now, affected by the toxicity of her unstable emotions going haywire and her will becoming decidedly dominant over his. The one who is toxic has become inverted.
What's more, it seems that the skills Paracelsus imparted on her before also carried over and stuck with her, allowing her to fight independently since Paracelsus isn't trying to encourage her to violence this time. She's become so dominant that she now can even force a new form/transformation onto Paracelsus when she does her Overdrive The Law is Key, Key is King while in Jealous Rage.
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In the game files, this red form is called the "Hyoui" form, meaning 'possession'. It being red is interesting because it seems to be a callback to Paracelsus' moniker of being the Sanguine Gale. The concept art also shows the pretty disturbing way he's being morphed into it by A.B.A. when she does the Overdrive.
When in her Jealous Rage mode, the bottom half Paracelsus' where his axe blade is, somehow becomes more axe-like than it ever has been in the games. In the earlier games, his blade half didn't change, only his head does into the goat-head. What's more disturbing is that eyes already started appearing on the axe half even while Paracelsus tries to maintain his original face as much as possible.
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When executing the Overdrive, A.B.A. swings with the axe half as the sludge pulls from Paracelsus' face to form this new toothed red axe head. Is it a new persona? Is Paracelsus still conscious in his face half or in the axe half at all? Does 'possession' have double meaning where A.B.A. is possessed by her own wrath, but also Paracelsus is now the one being possessed by A.B.A.'s will into forming the red axe form?
The interesting thing too is that A.B.A. executes the Overdrive with precise strikes, liked a skilled warrior. IMO, at this moment A.B.A. ironically became the exact kind of warrior that berserker Paracelsus would have wanted and caused him to even revert back into that primal early form of his that was barely sentient. They gained perfect synergy for the attack, but both are literally out of their minds.
What started this post
Just a funny thing but the reason why I even thought of, and then looked into all this, was because of A.B.A.'s biting of Paracelsus at the top of the post. I was wondering why Paracelsus doesn't say a word of protest when she does this to him, then remembered that he used to kinda drink her blood (and turns out he too has bitten her before), and I think he's prolly thinking "I deserve this".
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myoddessy · 1 year
Text
double take | cl16 social media au
summary —hope reignites for f1's favourite former couple when charles is caught liking his ex's post
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yourusername just posted !
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liked by charles_leclerc, bellahadid, isahernaez, and 2,390,541 others
yourusername luxury holidays are always better with a drink in hand... and with someone to keep you company, of course ❤️🥂
lilymhe can i keep you company next time?
yourusername i've always got a plane ticket with your name on it, sweets, say the word and it's yours 🤍🤍
devonleecarlson fun fact; it's actually me who took the second pic
bellahadid fun fact; i'm actually the glass in the second pic
mickshoemaker whoever this dude is is the luckiest guy ever fr
liked by charles_leclerc
mickshoemaker HELLO?? MR LECLERC YOURE NOT VEING SLICK RN
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charles_leclerc just posted !
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liked by pierregasly, itselenaberri, arthur_leclerc, and 70,561 others
charles_leclerc Paris isn't the only beautiful view around here 🤍 Thank you to @hotelraphaelparis for letting us spend our last week together before Y/n jets off to make magic in comfort and luxury.
yourusername I miss it (and you) so much already darling 💔💔
charles_leclerc je t'aime ❤️
yourusername I love you too ❤️ almost enough to forget about the fact that we were supposed to soft launch
charles_leclerc and be forced to wait even longer to post about you? no way
landonorris sap 🤢
charles_leclerc you would be so much happier if you spent the time you spend complaining on trying to get a girlfriend mate 🤣
f1wagupdates our fav couple for now and forever 🤍🤍
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florencepugh just posted !
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liked by zendaya, tchalamet, jennaortega, and 963,451 others
florencepugh when @yourusernameofficial gets a text from @charles_leclerc expect her to be in her own world for 2-5 business days 🤣
yourusername you didn't need to expose me like this babe 💔
treasuredplanet THEYRE MY PARENTS
hugs4yn they're so cute 🥺😭
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sports-on-sundays · 4 months
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Summary: Romantic Christmas walk with Charles. Extreme fluffy tropes. Charles being a complete and utter sap.
Requested?: Of course not.
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You watch as snow gently falls in the golden glow of the streetlights lining the road. Shops are lit up with warm lights, illuminating all sorts of gifts to be bought by one person for another person they love- teddy bears, golden jewelry, winter attire, and the like.
There's a certain magical feeling in the crisp air gently blowing your hair and stinging your rosy pink cheeks. Golden fairy lights line the buildings, and as you walk past diners and bakeries, sweet scents of soups and pastries fill your nostrils. Despite the cold outdoor temperatures, there's an expected warmth in your heart. Christmas fills the air and your soft heart, and as you near the centre of this little town your boyfriend has brought you to, the sound of a small, makeshift choir singing classical Christmas songs starts to faintly reach your ears.
Your boyfriend's hand slips into yours, his warm gloved hand wrapped around your exposed red freezing fingers. You look up, and your eyes meet his. His cheeks are pink, and steam comes from his mouth as he releases a contented sigh. His eyes shine blue, reflecting the golden soft lights all around you. He looks adorable in his wrapped up scarf and snug hat on his head.
Charles, your boyfriend, wraps his arm around you, pulling your body closer to his as he feels you shiver slightly. You turn a corner, and you set your eyes on the sight of a huge tree, standing at about fifteen feet, covered in sparkling Christmas lights, with a shining star sitting on the top of it. Around the tree stand carolers, basking in the lyrics and feel of the season, many of them holding hands, arms around each other, arms linked, or just standing close together.
The feeling of unity hits you like a blanket warming your soul.
You tighten your grip on Charles' arm, leaning into him, and soft gasp escaping your lips at the lovely sight. "Charles..." you murmur.
He glances to you, a soft smile on his face. "Yes, lovely?"
"This is... amazing."
"I thought you'd like it." When you meet his eyes, he winks at you. You grin, setting your head back against his shoulder, looking up at the lovely tree and listening to the wonderful chorus of all different sorts of voices.
When that song ends, Charles gently asks, "Want to keep walking?"
You nod. As you walk, you feel chillier and chillier, pressing your body closer and closer to Charles', until suddenly he stops and gently nudges you away, before beginning to take off his jacket. "What are you doing?" you ask incredulously.
Charles doesn't respond, and simply drapes his bigger, black coat over your shoulders. The warmth of the coat from being on his body and the scent of his lovely cologne both hit you at the same time, but despite the comfort of his jacket, you say, "Come on now. You're no more immune to the cold than I am. I don't want you to be cold."
"Sh," he hums, and his warm pointer finger goes to your lips to hush you. "I'm just fine."
"Charles, stop," you roll your eyes. "I'm the one who didn't bring a jacket. You did. You deserve to keep yours."
He shakes his head no, and pulls you close to him. Suddenly you feel his hot breath on your ear as he whispers gently, "Before we left, I told you to wear a coat. But you said 'No, Charles, because I don't want to hide my cute outfit'," There's a teasing note in his voice as he imitates you and brushes his fingers over your cheek. "You look absolutely stunning, with or without a cute outfit. But I figured I wouldn't argue. So I just wore an extra jacket myself, because I knew you'd be shivering, and I can't have my love being uncomfortable, can I?" There's almost a gentle purring aspect to his voice, which is filled with sugar and honey as he speaks to you in such loving tones.
This time when you say, "Charles, stop," it's with more of an embarrassed giggle than with annoyance.
Both of you seem to accept this, because as you slip your arms in his jacket's sleeves and zip it up, Charles' hand hugs your waist, and the two of you continue walking. The jacket, because of it's size on you, feels like a comfortable blanket. It reminds you of home, and snuggling with Charles. You link arms with him, and he gently kisses your cheek.
As you walk, Charles starts whispering the sweetest things. Sometimes he gets on these rants about how much he loves you and how much he cares about you, and when he starts, there's no stopping his sappy self, so you're forced to listen to his soft praises. "My God, you're so gorgeous. I won't ever be able to stop loving you. Not that I want to. Loving you makes my life so much better. You make my life complete. Like, you are just... lovely and amazing and... I must be the most lucky man on earth to have you. You make me feel so safe and comfortable and I just can't get enough of you. With you, everything is perfect. I don't know how I lived before I met you, and I don't know how I would live if I didn't have you. Babe I just... I'm sorry for going on but..." Suddenly he stops, taking your waist in his hands, pulling your body into his. You look at your head-over-heels boyfriend in amusement as he gives you the most romantic look you've ever seen, pressing his forehead to yours. "Babe, I just love you so much..."
"M-hm... Whatever, you sap," you murmur back in a teasing tone, blushing softly.
"You're going to make me go insane," he swoons.
You chuckle, shaking your head. "Keep yourself under control, handsome."
He simply kisses the tip of your nose, saying, "You're still chilly, aren't you?"
"Don't you dare think of giving me your sweatshirt now-"
"No, no!" he grins, leaning his forehead away a bit. "I was just wondering, though... As we were walking, I saw a cute café. I could buy you a nice warm drink."
"Ohhh," you grin. "Well, in that case..."
Charles grins back, and slips around, only having one arm around your lower back, and the two of you start walking.
Soon the two of you arrive at the shop, but before you go in, suddenly there's a flash of passion in Charles' eyes, and he pulls you to him again. You fit together as two pieces in a puzzle, and his warm, soft lips gently meet yours. You feel bad about how cold and chapped your lips feel, but either it's just you, or Charles doesn't mind, because he kisses you deeply, like there's no one else there, like it doesn't matter. Like you're the only one in the whole world. His hand caresses your cheek and he lets out a soft grunt. When he finally pulls away, both of your breaths are quickened.
He whispers into your ear again, with his hot breath, "Sorry... I got a little carried away, babe. Let's get a little something to drink now. Then we can go to the hotel and do whatever we'd like."
You nod, feeling butterflies and excitement at these promising words. He puts his arms over your shoulders, and you walk in together to the romantic little Christmas-decorated café.
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luimagines · 3 months
Note
Ya know we have a lot of the chain ‘he realizes he’s in love’ but what about when he realizes YOU’RE in love with him? Maybe they catch you looking love struck at them, or a breathless praise cause he’s so pretty, just all sound saps
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Sure thing!!
Masterlist
Part One will include Twilight, Four and Sky. :D
Content under the cut!
Twilight
Twilight was in the middle of washing some gunk off of his shirt down the river when he figured it out.
Granted, he was in denial for a good part of the week afterwards but he always got a little doe-y eyed in heart when he thought about it again.
He didn't think much of it when you were doing the rest of the laundry with him a little way away form him. Twilight was too busy trying to actually do a half decent job to notice it at first.
Then he looked your way, wondering if you were having as much luck as he was.
He wasn't prepared for the expression that was waiting for him when he turned.
Your eyes were soft, and your smile was so subtle that it looked as if you were viewing him for the first time with quiet awe and adoration. Your mouth was slightly open and your entire stance was relaxed and calm. The laundry you had in your hand was about to be taken down the river if you weren't paying attention.
His heart jumped to his throat and he suddenly felt self conscious that you were staring at him for who knows how long. He had forgotten entirely the task at hand. He wasn't expecting this.
Twilight felt his mouth go a little dry as he stared back at you. His face grew warm at the thought that you were looking at him this way. And what else would be looking at?
The only person was Legend, but he's behind you. And he's too busy trying to fix up one of Hyrule's tunics to pay attention to either of you.
Twilight feels his expression soften. Oh, how he's wanted to be the one who you looked at this way. Is real life? Are you really that enamored by him? Are his eyes deceiving him?
"Hey." He calls to you softly.
It seems to break you out of whatever trance you ended up in. You drop the laundry and you take a poor step back. Luckily you seem to catch yourself before you fall into the water but clearly you're more than embarrassed at being caught.
You're face goes bright red and you laugh nervously in an attempt to play it off.
Twilight's heart flutters at the thought. The tiniest light of hope shines through.
He winks at you.
You grow bashful and he think he might just have to talk some more when you're both done with your chores.
Four
It took him an embarrassingly long time to figure it out. 
It was less him figuring it out and more so, someone telling it to his face. Directly. Bluntly. And it still didn’t click.
“They like you.”
Four just looks at them with wide eyes- no thoughts in his head. “I mean... I’d hope so? I like them too... You’re supposed to like to your friends.”
A small twang strikes him in the heart at his own words. He feels like an idiot for saying them anyway. Despite their truth, he wishes you would look at him in the way he looks at you. With tenderness and desire. With hopes and quiet confessions. With dreams and unspoken promises.
”No Four.” They grit their teeth, trying their best to remain patient. “The-want-to-hold-you-hand kind of like you.”
Four bite his teeth, feeling his heart start pounding in his chest. A soft blush comes over his cheeks. Wouldn’t that be nice? Just to hold your hand. He thinks it would be very soft. Much different than his callused hands from the forge work and his swordsmanship. “It’s not like anything is stopping them, right? I wouldn’t mind it.”
If anything he would quite welcome it.
“You’re so dumb.” They groan, smacking their forehead and dragging their hands down their face. “They blush whenever they see you! How do you not see that?!”
“What are you talking about?” Four rubs the back of his neck, feeling like he’s missing some very vital information.
“They love you!”
“Well I love them too!” Four starts to get defensive. “What does that have to do with anything?!”
“Not platonically, idiot!”
“Then in what other way-”
“They want to kiss you. They want to go out on dates. They want to get married and grow old and have a garden outside the house with a white picket fence- I don’t know!” They shout, all ounce of patience lost. “But so help me, we’re all tired of seeing you two dance around each other like awkward teenagers.”
Four clenches his jaw at that. “So what if we are? How can you just say-”
“They! Are! IN LOVE! With YOU!” They give up, grabbing Four by the shoulders and shake him with emphasis on every beat of their sentence. “GODDESS!!!”
Four is set back a few steps with the strength they all but launch him back with. Four only stares at them dumbly. The words take a minute to process through his skull. “...They do?”
His friend all but collapses to their knees with their hands grabbing fistfuls of hair in frustration. ”YES!”
The blush on Four’s face grows ten fold as he looks not to subtle at the direction where he knows you’re at. He hopes that you’re far enough away where this whole ordeal was out of ear shot.
“...oh...”
“YES!”
Sky
Sky wasn't sure what to think about this new development. Could he dare to hope? Would it amount to anything? Would he be at risk of ruining it all if he were to act on his suspicions?
You had begun to act more and more shy around him. Which... didn't work for him if wanted to spend more and more time by your side.
Sky was curious about your escalating change in behavior.
It was time to experiment.
He tried to set up circumstances that would get the two of you together and alone. Just so he could try little things and see your reactions. He wanted to have some sort of foundation for his suspicions and the confidence to be able to act on them.
A small brush of your hair here, nudging your hands together there- just little touches- little gestures. He brought you a flower. He saved you a seat. He'd compliment your appearance when he noticed you doing something new.
Sky tried to watch your reaction each and every time. You always seemed to be happier and you'd blush softly each and everytime.
It gave him hope.
It gave him the strength needed to not only work up the courage to do more and more for you but to do something about it.
Sky knew that the others were catching on to what he was doing. But no was willing to stop him, which only furthered his suspicions that you have somewhat reciprocated his feelings.
"Ok." You looked at the map in your hands. "If we went north then we can eventually hit the river, then we can gather up enough water for the group and maybe clean up some of the clothes that were damaged in the last battle."
"Sounds good to me." Sky grinned and put a hand on your shoulder. You bite your lip and blushed. With a small smile, you turn to him and fold up the map.
You provided him with the perfect opportunity. He leans in, kissing you cheek casually. "Let's go."
You tensed up, blushing even more.
Sky walks around you, keeping his hand on your shoulder. He smirks to himself and keeps walking. If he focuses long enough he thinks he can hear the way your brains fries.
He spins on his heel and tries to fix his face into a less mischievous look. You're completely red, but smiling to yourself.
Ok, yeah- he's not going to get smacked for that. He can live with this.
In fact- he's all for it. Rooting for you, even.
If you like him, then he can die a very happy man.
Part 2
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wannabeanotter · 23 days
Note
I am always working lately it seems. Running from one job to another. I’m so envious of those men who seem to just be able to let themselves go. To not do what’s expected of them. Think you can help me relax a bit and get rid of some of my responsibility?
You wanna let loose? Sure bro!! First off, have a drink! It's on me.
Now, I've got some bad news. You're never going to set yourself free when you have a corporate structure to answer for, yknow? So I've taken the liberty and had you fired.
Aww, don't look at me like that. Here, have another drink
The second thing is your brain. You're too, well, how do I put it... motivated. You keep on thinking about things like "goals" and "consequences". Loser shit, not enough instant gratification. So, don't worry bro, I just turned all of that off. You want a beer? just drink one, no more fears about hangovers and "obligations" tomorrow. That pizza looks good, right? Eat another slice. Eat 5 more slices. Who gives a shit if you've already had enough food for 2 men today.
Wait, what's that? You feel weird? Like your body? Well yeah, duh, actions have consequences.
Oh right, I forgot I blasted that part of your brain. I guess you'll just have to live with whatever happens
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Yeah yeah, I know, shit sucks. But I guess all those calories started to add up. I said I'll help you loosen up, not your waistband.
The hair? I don't know what your talking about bro. Have you ever seen a fucker like you who wasn't hairy? Didn't think so. This is all natural. This is all right.
Well, nearly.
There's one last problem bro, even lazy dudes get their shit together; even pigs like you can stop eating, can get a job again, maybe even start working out. In my mind it just aint permanent enough.
So, I think I'm gonna give you something else. Something that can sap up any little sliver of focus you manage to squeeze out. Something that's going to eat up every minute of your life from now on.
Oop, there is goes. Do you feel that? Your mind is going somewhere else and it won't be coming back anytime soon
Tell me when you work it out ;)
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From now on, you'll be spending every waking moment thinking about your cock, playing with it non-stop. You wanna fuck anything and everything you see, don't you?
Good luck getting your job back now bro ;)
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goddessofwisdom-7 · 4 months
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Sacrifice [part 2]
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Pairing: Luke castellan x female!reader
Description: a prequel to Sacrifice pt. 1, you held up the sky for long and Luke could see the toll it was taking so he goes ahead luring Annabeth to take your place, after all he's just trying to take care of you.
A/N: when I wrote Sacrifice, I did it in fifteen minutes nto thinking much of it. But I like the concept of it ngl. In all fairness, angst is like my thing and writing angsty toxic Luke is my fav rn.
Sacrifice pt 1:
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Luke's shoulders ached, his back felt almost crooked from the weight of the sky. He felt a twinge of sympathy for Annabeth but right now she was the lesser of his concerns.
The woman at the forefront of his mind being you.
You who swung from consciousness to unconsciousness for the last three days; the strength from your body sapped out and a constant pain ripping through you. Your wrists were wrapped up in bandages to support them and the large expanse of bruises on your shoulders were being iced.
The nectar and ambrosia he was taking to you felt like a meagre offering, a minimal solution.
This whole ploy was a sheer debacle. He could've lost you.
Everything was taking too much time. Anyway, it didn't matter now.
You were out of immediate danger, he could take care of you. Just like he always swore to. He'd show you how much he cared, that you still mattered and ha had it all under control and all the doubts he knew you were beginning to have weren't necessary.
Your hair had greyed significantly, more than his had; though that was to be expected with how much more time you had spent in Atlas' position.
He sidled up to your sleeping figure, sheltered away from the eyes of titans and soldiers– protected; and reached out to caress your face, over the course of these days, he had developed a small routine now.
First, he picked up the washcloth and basin that a son of Asclepius who was in charge of handling injuries had dutifully kept. He could tend to your wounds and the other demigods, but you were still under Luke's care. Always.
Cleaning up your face first, before gently wiping down your arms, mindful of the supporting bandages and then wiping your knees, down your shins and the arch of your feet.
It felt good, being able to do something for you. After which he'd try to rouse you in a partial wakefulness as he helped you sip the divine nectar, watching the magic liquid give you some strength.
For a little while, Luke had been worried. For all your amazing traits, he believed you to be more simple-minded; in your mind, you were the first that should be sacrificed because of your dedication and devotion towards your loved ones. Now, he never thought of your loyalty to be mindless like a dog's but he always believed that it would be his.
But then after the whole Golden Fleece interaction with Percy and company, you had gotten quiet, secretive almost. Like you were deliberating helping the son of Poseidon. And he had had a sinking feeling that Kronos might order him to get rid of you, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to do that.
"Are you hiding something from me?" He'd asked one evening, quiet and sudden.
Your gaze remained unwavered as you stepped closer to him.
"No."
"You having doubts?"
"About survival?" You laughed, "I've known about the extreme likelihood of dying for a very long time." A thrilling shiver ran down his spine as you grabbed his chin.
"And still Luke, I'm here, by your side. I'm not having any doubts."
And a few days later you went and held up the sky and now he wondered if it was some unrequired act of fielty.
He brushed your grey hair back, untangling a few knots and wished your face didn't look so disturbed and in agony in sleep as it did while you were awake.
"Luke?" You mumbled.
"Yes love."
"What– how am I here?" A sudden fit of discomfort and confusion setting upon you as you forced your eyes open and tried to sit up, still half asleep but nevertheless trying to stay alert– a default demigod setting, "who's– Atlas–"
"Shh," He whispered, attempting to be soothing. Take care of you. His job. "Annabeth's got it in control."
"Anna– no!" You shoot up, weak and disoriented, "not– Luke, Luke you promised– No!"
"Shh, calm down, please," He catches your shoulder and nudges you to lie back but you remain restless and oh gods he loves you and can't lie to you but you need to remain still or you'll get hurt more.
"You promised–"
Their medic is swift in appearing with an anaesthetic type medication and they put you out succinctly, without the chance of waking for a long while.
"I know you didn't want it to go like this, my love. But I will sacrifice hundreds to keep you safe."
His heart feels heavy and he kisses your brow and cheek.
If Annabeth, Thalia or Percy or anyone is the option opposite you, he'll kill them all. You, his devoted darling, his own nectar. The repercussions always seem so inconsequential when up against you, taking care of you.
His beloved.
************
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As promised here she is!!! ✨✨✨
Honestly guys i JUST made her, i didn't expect so many people to want me to post her so i don't have a lot figured out about her,,,
But she's here! I'm holding her up by the sides like a baby kitten 🧍✨✨✨
Bonus:
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Luffy started eating before everyone sat down
(I named her Josephine cuz she can be nicknamed zephy- and it sounds like Zeff cuz Sanji is a sap and I love him for it and he would name his kid like that, + it's rlly common to give grandparents names to ur kids here and it's ingrained in me
Sora would also have been a good name but I liked Josephine more...)
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americas1suiteheart · 9 months
Note
Hi! Hope you are doing well! So, Tangerine x Reader: any headcanons about Tan as a partner? Thanks!
I'm doing great in fact, thank you for the request! Headcannons are my favourite thing to write, hope this is fitted to your taste.
Dating Tangerine Would Include...
[Tangerine x GN! Reader Headcannons]
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[Warnings; Violence, smoking, violence, its a bullet train fic guys]
[Notes; I love writing for Tan so much you guys have no idea, I get to cuss as much as I want to in these fics]
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Oh man, he's such a softie for you, you have absolutely no idea.
He can go from being the same grumpy prick to other people and have one of the worst days but when he's around you he's calling you love and darling, clinging onto you practically and just showering you in kisses.
He's so clingy, as soon as either of you get home he's begging you to sit with him on the couch just so you could cuddle. And if your making dinner expect him to try to help but just end up holding you by your waist the whole time.
Lemon thinks it's the cutest thing how tangerine acts around you. He thinks its hilarious how quickly Tan switches up with you.
"-you're the one that doesn't fucking know how to go on about this job correctly! You're such a fucking idiot sometimes Lemon it's insu-" Tangerine yells at his brother before being interrupted by you.
"Whats going on? What are you two fighting about now?" You say in annoyance.
"Nothing darling, just please go back to the living room I'll be right there okay love," Tangerine tells you softly, pressing a kiss to your head before you leave.
"You're a right fuckin' sap for them, Tan," Lemon snickers at Tangerines change of attitude and tone.
"I'll put your fuckin' head through a wall, honest to god Lemon."
He just loves when your laying with eachother and you run your hands through his curls.
I'd like to think you help him take care of his hair actually. Like, he would know how to take care of it properly before, but he let's you put different product in his hair to make sure he doesn't miss any areas on his hair, (In reality he just wants to be touched by you in some way).
Being a part time nurse for him and Lemon definitely became a thing almost immediately after you two started dating. Constant cleaning of wounds and such, just constantly.
The days when he's on missions he's constantly texting you as much as he can, checking up on you to make sure you're doing well.
There are times where he's come home a couple days or even weeks later than he had originally anticipated without being able to contact you, and you'd be absolutely furious, (sometimes not knowing that he wasn't able to contact you at all).
"What the fuck happened, Tan! I thought you were dead. You hadn't even texted me or anything, you were supposed to be back 5 days ago! You had me absolutely worried sick!" You yell.
Tan had been gone for almost 2 weeks when the mission was only supposed to last a week. And on top of that he hadn't phoned or even tried to text you. If it weren't for Lemon telling you that they were fine 2 days before they showed up you would've assumed the worst had happened.
"I really am sorry my darling, the mission was just much harder than we'd expected and we got stuck there longer than nessasary." He explained quietly.
"But why hadn't you contacted me at all? If it weren't for lemon calling me I would've thought you two were gone for good!"
"My telephone got broken by some prick the 3rd day into the mission whilst we were fighting. And I didn't think to used lemon's phone because I was so frazzled the whole time. Really darling, I didn't mean to frighten or worry you."
"Alright.. Sorry I freaked out on you but I really was worried. I'm just glad you're okay now." You walk to Tangerine, pulling him into a hug.
" 's alright love, I'm glad you and I are good too. Let's go wash up and go to bed, I've got blood all over me and my fuckin' clothes and it don't feel too great," Tangerine says, picking you up and taking you to your shared bedroom.
Loves taking baths with you, taking turns washing eachother off makes him feel all warm inside, that you trust eachother enough at that point in your relationship. He thinks it's so sweet though.
Sometimes when he goes outside to have a smoke he'll invite you out with him so you two can just talk. If you smoke he'll probably share one with you too.
Very protective.. Being he's an assassin and all, he'd most definitely go to extremes if someone had been bothering you. Some random person flirted with you? Dead. A someone you knew in high school used to bully you? Dead. Any person that has hurt you no matter how long ago will probably end up dead.
You two are so good for eachother though. Strangely the healthiest relationship you will ever have. Please don't break this poor boy's heart. He will be absolutely devastated and blame himself for it. Underneath all of that muscle and confidence he's very emotional and sensitive.
Will ask to marry you and even possibly start a family with you if you're up for it. (Adoption or old fashioned depending on your biological sex).
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Loved writing this, and I was infact so excited that I finished this in just 2 hours🤭
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snepril · 6 months
Text
I'm a trans woman and I'm otherkin. Both labels describe parts of me, but neither describes all of me. Yet at the same time, they're both closely intertwined, both key parts of my discovery of who I am - and both more alike than one might expect.
I knew I wasn't supposed to be a guy. Even from a young age, I was drawn to feminine things. I wanted to be a girl - I just didn't have the words to say it, didn't understand why I felt the way I did. And as I grew older, that feeling crystalized. I tried to deny it, to pretend it didn't matter. Besides, it was never the conventional picture of dysphoria - I could manage being a guy. It was tolerable. That was enough, right?
But it wasn't what I wanted. I knew I'd be happier as a woman - I knew it with a certainty and clarity I could never put to words. I knew, and the moment I realized there was a path forward, a way to be who I knew I wanted to be, I took it. I transitioned. It cost me a lot - my home, my years spent in college, my friends and stability - and it was all worth it. Having that weight off my chest, getting to live as who I always wanted to be... it made everything else so much easier. It's like a good night's sleep - sure, you can manage without for a while, but it saps your strength, makes everything else so much harder.
But as I transitioned, as I embraced my life as a woman, I realized... I wasn't quite where I wanted to be. I was closer - so much closer - but I wasn't there yet. There were a lot of little things I wanted to change about myself... and one big one.
I wanted to be something other than human.
At first I denied it, pretended it didn't matter. I had done so many things I'd never thought possible - I'd transitioned, I had a good job and was living on my own. I had good friends and the freedom to steer my own life. Wasn't that enough?
And those words were familiar. The feeling was familiar. It didn't take me long to put two and two together. And when, one day, an impulse art commission gave me my first ever picture of myself as a sphinx...
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...I knew. I knew that this feeling was the exact same one that drove me to transition. I knew denying it would work about as well as denying that I'm a woman. So I decided not to. I decided to accept who I am.
I'm a woman, and I'm a sphinx. I'm transgender, and I'm otherkin.
Otherkin. Somehow, it's an even more loaded word than transgender. It implies so much, and that made it harder to accept. I don't believe in other realities or reincarnation. I don't believe I was a sphinx in a past life or other world - I'm really not spiritual at all. So how can I call myself a sphinx if, objectively, I know I've got the body of a plain old human?
The same way I knew I was a woman.
I'm not ignorant of my biology. I know what's coded into my DNA and what my body is shaped like. But why should any of that have any say on who I am? I'm more than my body, more than the chance outcome of genetics and evolution. I get to decide who I am - and I choose to be a woman, and I choose to be a sphinx. Why? Because it makes me happy. Because it feels right. Because it's my life to live and I get to live it how I want, so long as that doesn't hurt anyone else. Sure, I can't transition to be a sphinx in real life (not with modern technology, anyway), but when has an inability to transition ever made anyone's identity any less valid? I'll do what I can to make my body more comfortable and live with the rest, because the alternative - pretending what I feel doesn't matter - isn't living.
I'm a transgender woman.
I'm an otherkin sphinx.
And I'm happy.
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asliceofzosan · 5 months
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zoro doesn't care if people forget his birthday. he really doesn't. but when it's his own boyfriend who doesn't acknowledge his birthday at all... that's a whole different thing entirely. (zosan modern au for zoro's birthday!)
Zoro never understood the hype around birthdays.
It's just another year. 19 didn't feel that different to being 18. 21 didn't feel that different to being 20. He's pretty sure it's going to be the same all the way up to his 80's. He understands the importance of milestones and whatnot but other than that, celebrating his birthday was an afterthought.
It's the big 26 today — one year closer to his thirties — but again, it's just an ordinary day. He woke up, showered for once, and headed straight for the kitchen where his boyfriend was already cooking breakfast and dancing to whatever new K-POP song came out. One of the perks of moving in with Sanji was the early morning entertainment Zoro gets everyday.
Zoro leans against the kitchen island, just watching Sanji hum along to words Zoro can't understand. He loves moments like this. He developed a habit of watching Sanji every time he isn't looking. It's his favorite way to start the day. It gets even better when Sanji notices him, his face lighting up brighter than the sun, and throws his arms around Zoro in their daily good morning embrace.
However, this time, Sanji just looks over his shoulder with a shocked expression.
"Oh, you're already awake!" Sanji exclaims and he steps aside from his work station to reveal he was packing up bento boxes. "I wasn't expecting you to wake up until 10 since you're off work today."
"Thought it would be a good day to wake up early," Zoro says slowly, brows furrowed at each passing second that Sanji doesn't give him his morning hug and kiss. Zoro doesn't think he's clingy, he'd murder you if you said so, but they have a routine. And the routine includes morning hugs and kisses until they're both breathless. Why isn't Sanji bounding over to him and showering his face with kisses and squeezing the daylights out of him? Was he in the twilight zone?
Sanji just keeps on arranging the bento boxes carefully, labelling them with post-it notes and his signature sparkly gel pen that Nami gave him as a joke gift. Zoro stays rooted to the spot, patience waning the longer Sanji doesn't kiss him.
"I was called in today to cover some shifts at the Baratie," Sanji starts to say as he maneuvers his way to the fridge. Zoro scowls when Sanji passes him and doesn't even peck him on the cheek. His voice is a little muffled when he places the bento boxes into the fridge, explaining that he might be out the whole day and won't be back until 10PM earliest.
10PM. Earliest.
"I already pre-made your meals for the day. Breakfast is warming up in the oven right now." Eventually, Sanji does end up giving Zoro a little peck on the cheek, but Zoro felt himself subconsciously chasing after the cook's lips as he moves away. Sanji gives him a warm smile. Zoro thinks he's about to have an aneurysm.
"Sorry, I can't eat breakfast with you today." And to his credit, Sanji looks genuinely apologetic. "The Baratie's gonna be packed. You'll be okay by yourself, right?"
Zoro knew that not making a big deal out of his birthday was his own damn fault but this just seems... off. In every way possible.
Because of all the people in the world, how is it that Sanji has forgotten his birthday?
Sanji, the man who marks every major and minor holiday on his google calendar so he has an excuse to cook a big feast for his friends? Sanji, the man who cried his eyes out when he found out Zoro never had a proper birthday party because he understands the feeling of not being celebrated. Sanji, who loves rom-coms, choose-your-own-adventure interactive novels, and thinks that the way food is arranged on the plate can clearly indicate one's emotions.
Sanji, the biggest sap in history, has forgotten his boyfriend's birthday.
"Zoro?" Sanji's voice slices through the fog of confusion slowly filling up his brain. The hand cradling his face forces him back to reality but all he could do was stare longingly at Sanji, begging him with his eyes to not go. Sanji runs his thumb gently over his cheek and Zoro nuzzles into his hand like a stubborn child. Sanji chuckles.
"I'll be back, you big softie." His reassurance doesn't sit well with Zoro but he only manages to nod. Sanji leans down to kiss Zoro, too chaste and too fast, before pulling away far too quickly. Zoro watches miserably as Sanji puts his jacket on, grabs his keys, and bids him goodbye.
Zoro manages to meet him at the entryway, his hand catching Sanji's arm before he leaves. Sanji tilts his head at him, smiling at him in the way he does when Zoro is being stubborn. "What is it, marimo?"
Zoro stares down Sanji with his good eye, willing and pleading him to remember. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
Sanji blinks. Zoro blinks. Then, Sanji smiles and Zoro thinks he actually gets it.
Until Sanji pulls him into a searing kiss. When they pull away, Sanji rubs their noses together and lets go.
"Can't forget the goodbye kiss!" Sanji places one more kiss on Zoro's nose then leaves a very dazed, very irritated Zoro at the entryway.
from: cap'n luffy
zoooorrooooooo happy birthday !!!!!!!!!! zoro zoro zorooooo have a good day ^_^
from: witch of the sea
happy birthday you big lug <3 as my present, your debt is reduced by 10% ;)
from: chopper
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZORO! I LOVE YOU! DON'T GET SICK TODAY OKAY?!?
from: ussop :^\
BIG 26 ! HBD MY MAN ! you don't look a day over 19 ^_^ honest!! maybe they'll even ID you at the club HAHAHHAHAHAHA
from: robin
Happiest birthday, Zoro. I've deposited birthday booze money into your bank account. Have fun.
from: franky B)
HAVE A SUUUUUPPPEEERR BDAY BRO ! My bday gift isnt ready yet tho i still need to tweek it bUT ! ur gonna love it!! trust !
from: brook
zoro_birthday song_final_real final_absolutely final.mp3
from: jinbe
Have a fruitful birthday today, Zoro. You only turn 26 once!
Time ticks by and Zoro reads and re-reads all the birthday greetings from his friends. Many of them even sent multiple messages in their group chat. It mostly consisted of Luffy and Chopper spamming the chat with birthday gifs. It eased Zoro's racing mind just a little. But he can't help himself from opening up his chat logs with Sanji...
And still nothing.
Just a simple 'hbd marimo' from him would have eased his worries. But Sanji hasn't even messaged him once throughout the entire day. Usually, he'd send a couple of pictures to prove that he's alive. One time, he event sent a selfie while something caught on fire behind him. That's Zoro's wallpaper right now.
It really, really shouldn't be bothering him this much that Sanji hasn't said anything about his birthday. It's also not hard to forget Zoro's birthday. It's literally 11/11. It could not have been a more convenient date.
But Sanji was always the more romantic one of the two of them. Zoro can be accidentally romantic, sure, but Sanji likes grand gestures and showering others with love in every way possible.
Sanji is the last person on earth to forget Zoro's birthday.
He may have never understood the hype around celebrating his birthday. He hasn't had a party since his 18th. But there's something that's mildly irritating that his own boyfriend just straight up treats it like any other day. And not only that, he just leaves Zoro alone too. To celebrate his birthday miserably in their empty apartment with a box of reheated leftovers on his lap.
He doesn't want to admit that he's hurt.
But he is.
However, before he could pick up his phone again to call Sanji and give him a piece of his mind, it starts to ring. He scrambles to answer it without even checking the caller ID. The relief that washes over him when he hears Sanji's voice on the other line was indescribable.
"Cook," and it really shouldn't have come out this desperate. But Zoro is really hanging on by a thread here. "Are you going to tell me something?"
"Yeah! I can't believe I completely forgot!" Sanji's laugh is like a balm to Zoro's anxious conscience but it immediately slips away when Sanji continues.
"I forgot my phone at home."
Zoro almost growls in frustration. "I'm borrowing Patty's right now. Can you do me a favor and look for a recipe that I saved on my notes app? It's super important."
"What could be so much more important than..." Zoro trails off, managing to actually find Sanji's phone on the kitchen counter. Right where he was just this morning. "I fuckin' found it." He taps on the screen, his heart pinching when he sees that Sanji's lockscreen is a candid photo of the two of them taken the exact day they finally got together. Sanji's head was tucked against Zoro's shoulder, his cheeks flushed red, laughing and laughing at something Zoro can't remember anymore. And Zoro... was just looking at Sanji like he was his whole world.
And he still is.
Maybe that's why Sanji forgetting hurts even more.
"What's your passcode?" He grumbles, putting his own phone on speaker.
"I'm surprised you don't know it," Sanji says, footsteps seeming to echo on the other line. "It's pretty hard to forget."
"Contrary to popular opinion, I respect your privacy sometimes Curly."
"How sweet," Sanji says sarcastically. Zoro can practically hear the eyeroll. "But seriously. You know the passcode."
"No I fucking don't?" He exclaims incredulously, glaring at his phone in the hopes Sanji can probably feel it too. "What the fuck are you on about, cook? I don't know your damn passcode!"
"Yes, you do." The fact that Sanji isn't yelling back like he usually does sits uneasily in Zoro's stomach. "Fine, I'll give you a hint since my little marimo needs some help with his homework." Zoro grumbles that he's not a child but Sanji just ignores it. "It's related to the most important person in my life."
Zoro furrows his brows. "Zeff?"
Sanji chuckles. "Try again."
"Um," He scratches his head this time. "Nami?"
"As much as I wish that were true," Sanji sighs dramatically and it was Zoro's turn to roll his eyes. "It's not her. Come on now, mosshead. You know who it is."
The way Sanji's voice softened made something click in Zoro's brain. With a long shaky breath, Zoro took Sanji's phone, stared at the lockscreen one more time, and inputted a significant number.
111197
November 11, 1997
Then Sanji's phone unlocked.
"Did you get it?"
Zoro couldn't concentrate on Sanji's voice. Because staring right at him was the picture Sanji used as his homescreen.
A beautifully edited candid picture of Zoro, his face glowing against a gorgeous sunset, the light shining through his hair in an otherworldly haze. There was text edited above his chest and it read, clear as day:
Happy Birthday, my everything
"Can you open the door for me, love?"
As if on autopilot, Zoro walked to the door, Sanji's phone still in his hand, and he opened it to see his boyfriend standing right there. His face was illuminated by the glow of a single candle sitting on top of a simple vanilla cupcake. Surrounding that cupcake was a plate full of carefully arranged sushi, onigiri, grilled meats, and dipping sauces.
And written with an elegant hand at the edge of the plate, with something Zoro can somehow identify as a thickened oyster sauce was the same thing he read on Sanji's home screen wallpaper:
Happy Birthday, my everything
"Did you really think that I would forget?" Sanji says, the love in his eyes shining through the light of the candle. "You guessed the passcode, didn't you?"
"You piece of shit." Zoro's voice cracked only slightly (only slightly!) "I'm gonna fucking murder you, I swear to god."
"You don't believe in god," Sanji says matter of factly, reaching up to cup Zoro's face with one hand. Zoro scoffs but there's no lick of malice to it. Sanji then presents the cupcake to him and with another roll of his eye, Zoro blows the candle out, much to Sanji's amusement.
He knows he's supposed to be making a wish or whatever but he doesn't. Everything he's ever wished for is right here, standing in their doorway, with a plate of food made by his own hands. Hands that he kisses every night. Hands that cradle his face like Zoro is something to be treasured.
Hands that hold his, no matter what life throws at them.
Stepping into the apartment, Sanji places the plate of food on the table at the entryway, then drapes his arms over Zoro's shoulders. Zoro's hands find Sanji's waist immediately.
And finally, Sanji says the words Zoro's been waiting to hear all day.
"Happy Birthday, Zoro."
Then, Sanji kisses him, his lips soft and his hands warm as they tangle into Zoro's hair. Zoro deepens the kiss, thinking that maybe celebrating his birthday isn't so bad after all.
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