#oh lord were doomed fucking doomed

[gargoylepuke999]

‘disappear for a while’ ‘’escape normality’ ‘a place like no other’ ‘a Realm of Peached sunsets’ ‘endless days’ ‘take a trip south’ ‘join us down here’

#‘join us down here’ is another callback to it for the. record #‘we all float down here’ #stranger things #stranger things 4 #will byers #will byers gonna get mad targeted Im so fucking ready #waiting impatiently for protective mike wheeler 2.0 #mike wheeler #byler #stranger things spoilers #are those demobats in the palm trees I cant tell #and the subken boat behind her #oh lord were doomed fucking doomed

[front-facing-pokemon]

#linoone #but you wouldn't be able to tell without the tag. dear lord that nose #i love this one. not for the pokémon just for the front-facing image. LOOK at this dude. that Fucking Snout. you can BARELY see their EYES #it's wonderful. this is wonderful. this is amazing. i love this #i don't have a lot to say about linoone. i don't like it as much as zigzagoon but i kinda get what they were going for? zigzag to a line #but eeehhh. it's kinda just a ferret a little bit. what is it supposed to be actually? lemme check its like. dex category #it's the “rushing pokémon” that's not helpful at all. what's galarian linoone #oh it's the same. WELL ALRIGHT i guess. this dooms me to have nothing interesting to say here. check it out it's linoone!! #i wonder if this is anyone here's favorite pokémon. if any of you out there are a linoone reading this i'm sorry i don't have more to say #but rest assured i've had less insightful comments about some pokémon before so it's totally fine i think

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: In which your friends are idiots who think gallivanting around a haunted castle surrounded by lava is a great idea. And then there's a dragon.

ie. Or, I watched Shrek this afternoon and could not stop thinking about the memes of the Prefect being Donkey and Malleus as the Dragon.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

‘Treasure beyond your wildest dreams!’ Ace said.

‘Knowledge long since lost to time!’ Deuce corrected.

‘Yeah, okay, but what is it,’ you asked.

And neither of them had an answer.

Abandoned castles suspended over a sea of bubbling lava were not your preferred holiday destination. You’d told Ace this several times. You’d begged, pleaded, to please just be normal for once. But noooo. Both the snarky, ginger, bastard and the other half of his singular brain cell had apparently decided that suicide ala boiling rocks sounded like a perfectly lovely plan for your Saturday evening.

“I’m just saying,” you huffed as the rope bridge swung worryingly beneath your feet, “taverns are a thing. Faires. Market runs. Casual side quests that won’t wind up with us being flambeed alive.”

“But there’s treasure!” Ace complained, the muddled light off the lava below illuminating his pout in a way that made it look especially punchable. “I heard there’s this really awesome magical sword! Or maybe it was a shield or something—”

“Or something,” you grit out. “What if it’s a book, huh? You can’t even read.”

“We can try!” Deuce returned, a spark of that familiar determination zipping through his blue eyes.

“Or we can sell it,” Ace said, which was certainly the more likely option of the two.

One of the rickety, wooden, slats cracked beneath the low heel of your boot and tumbled down into the lava below. Maybe it hit the gurgling pool of death with a hiss, or a whump, or some other cool sound. But all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.

“Oh my god. I’m going to die.”

“I mean, maybe,” Ace shrugged. “But at least you’ll have a cool new sword propped up at your grave or something.”

You managed to make it all the way to the other side of the horrible death bridge without plummeting to your doom. Except now you were standing at the foot an equally horrifying castle. It was massive—grand on a scale that seemed entirely impossible for something constructed in the heart of a volcano. Its dozens of ebony spires clawed at the sky. The walls crawled with grey ivy and thickets of thorns so dense that you couldn’t see even the barest hint of brick beneath. It looked evil in the way that cursed tombs felt evil—eternal, and still, and oppressive. Like a creature in its own right rather than just an agglomeration of black stone.

Ace drew his sword and Deuce readied his axe. You sighed and plucked at the strings of your stupid fucking lute, and wished once more that you’d had the foresight all those moons ago to take the cushy internship position Lord Crewel had tried to offer you. But, no. You’d wanted to be an adventurer.

The massive double doors of the entrance swung open with an eerie groan. A pair of stern looking gargoyles stood guard as the three of you cautiously made your way into the castle. You swore you could feel their eyes following you—that you’d seen them flex jagged claws into their stone perches in an aborted attempt to dive after you.

The inside of the looming fortress was no more welcoming than out. Dark, emerald, stained glass windows lined the walls—smothering any of the warmer light from the volcano and tinting the entire hall a sickly green-grey. The stone floors and walls were elaborately carved with the faded stories of dynasties long since passed, but what had once surely been immaculate craftsmanship had shifted and cracked with age—crushing floors into tight slopes and littering already narrow walkways with heavy debris.

“We just have to find the tallest tower,” Ace hummed, swiping at a few dangling trails of thorns with the blunted edge of his blade. “And then the highest room in that.”

“The treasure is never in the highest room in the tallest tower,” you complained. “You just heard that in a drinking song once.”

“Is that true?” Deuce frowned, looking terribly betrayed.

“No way!” Ace snipped. “I told you! An old crone read my fortune in her bone dice, and she said to always check the highest room in the tallest tower! Because that’s where I’d find my greatest treasure!”

“Maybe the greatest treasure is the friends we’ve made along the way?” Deuce suggested helpfully.

“No.”

So you split off from a grouchy Ace and dejected Deuce to try and find some stairs. Every room in this stupid castle was swimming in so many shadows that you could hardly tell right from left, let alone if there were any kinds of secret doors or passageways that may lead to an equally secret tower. The chamber you’d found yourself in now was gigantic, and each tentative step you took echoed discordantly through the ashy gloom. You kicked miserably at a loose rock and it skittered off into the darkness with a dull thunk. And then something… odd, began to happen. That darkness began to move—to rise and unfurl like a great set of wings on a beast. And—oh. Oh no.

“Would you look at that,” Ace whistled under his breath, neck craned all the way back as he squinted at what was most definitely the tallest of all the towers this creepy castle had to offer. “Guess what, nonbelievers. I found the—”

“DRAGON!”

Whoosh went the great swathe of emerald fire as it exploded down the barren hallway and nipped at your heels. You dove out into the open courtyard just in time to avoid being roasted alive, and the gargantuan monster behind you let out a roar fit to shake the earth. A quick tuck-and-roll left you crouched behind a fallen pillar, and the dragon’s bright, green, glower turned on you and your garbage hiding spot with a rumbling snarl. Its rows of sharp, white, teeth closing just above your head—missing its mark by barely a hair’s width.

“Gotcha!” Deuce snarled, his armored fists dragging the dragon away by its tail. Or, well, tried to. Because the dragon was a hundred feet long at least, and your blue haired friend probably looked like nothing more than a pesky rat darting between its feet. It turned and snapped at him irritably, taking a great, big, step forward in a bid to get a firmer stance to attack. You threw yourself in the other direction to avoid being trampled.

“Go!” Ace called, charging in from the other side. “Quick!”

Because at the end of the day, they were still both your brave, tanky, warrior, friends. And you were just a very, very, squishy bard who really would not fare well against a particularly motivated goose, let alone a dragon. So you skidded through the rubble and onto your feet, and started to sprint back into the castle’s halls—hoping maybe you’d be able to find a bit more cover.

There was a great clatter, and both Ace and Deuce yelped. You looked back hurriedly to see the pair of them clutching onto the dragon’s tail for dear life as it whipped them back and forth through the ash and debris cluttering the ground. With one, final, great, sweep, the dragon pitched them into the air and sent them careening through the roof of that ‘tallest tower.’ You muttered a hasty incantation and the sparkling outlines of soft feathers danced along your fingers. You hoped you weren’t too far. You were probably too goddamn far. But you hummed frantically under your breath nonetheless and entreated your middling magic to give them a soft landing.

And then there was another wave of green hellfire raining down over your head and you turned and ran.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

Even if you’d been a champion sprinter, there was little good it would have done you against a beast whose stride was longer than you were tall. You made it back into some hall or other, and into another cavernous room, and then you were pinned into a corner—the dragon looming over you like a vengeful wraith come to take its due.

It was gigantic. Probably the biggest creature you’d ever seen. And it was sleek—all lithe muscle and glossy rows of black scales that glittered oddly in the dull, grey, light. Its wings spread wide behind it, spanning the entirety of the vast chamber. They looked like the sort of wings that could stir up a hurricane. The curling horns atop its head seemed sharp enough to gore a man or twenty, and the purple crests lining its skull were tapered down flat in a way that reminded you a bit deliriously of a pissy cat pinning its ears back before it swatted at you.

Its lips curled back over pointed canines as it snarled at you, and you were showered in a swathe of hot sparks.

“Oh, what large teeth you have,” you squeaked, and when the dragon dipped closer to bellow into your face, your reeled back with a splutter. “I—I mean white, sparkling, teeth!” you rattled, nearly incoherent. The dragon’s snout twitched away, almost like you’d startled it. “I mean, I’m sure you hear this all the time from your food, but—wow! Just! Very lovely! Definitely the prettiest smile I’ll ever be eaten by!”

Slowly it lowered its great head, and you could see the neon glare from its narrowed eyes.

“Not that you have to eat me,” you added hurriedly, hoping to whatever Gods could hear you that your smart mouth could finally be useful for more than just talking circles around assholes in bars or weaseling your friends out of shitty contracts. “I’d very much like not to be eaten. But all the same, we did intrude in your home—and it’s definitely a very nice home—so I’d totally get it. And I guess if I did have to die today, knowing that my life would be in the hands of something so magnificent is certainly reassuring.”

The dragon seemed to preen a bit at that. You could see the sharp crests beneath its horns soften as tension bled from the beast’s posture. It ducked in close again, and this time you felt a sharp pull of air rush past your cheeks as it sniffed you. Its nostrils were the size your head—bigger even, maybe. You didn’t want to think about it, but the dry heat of its breath puffing into your face made the entire thing a bit hard to ignore.  

“Did I mention what a charming home you have?” you rambled on. “Very aesthetic. The gargoyles at the gate were a lovely touch.”

The dragon made a low, warbling, noise in its throat that wasn’t quite a growl, but wasn’t particularly… reassuring, either. It made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It ducked away—not far, just enough to reach one of the large, carved, walls at the outskirts of the room. Its long neck slithered out before pausing pointedly over an archway. It took you a long moment to realize it was gesturing to something. Another gargoyle from the looks of things—this one almost entirely crumbled away under the strains of time. You could just barely make out the shape of its square jaw and taloned fingers.

You nodded so hard you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

“Yes! I see! Very beautiful! Such fine craftsmanship!”

The dragon cooed at you. Swear on your life and all the money in your back packet. An actual, honest to God, coo. Fuck, maybe you’d managed to charm your way out of imminent dismemberment and death after all.

It ambled closer once again, a curiosity lighting its eyes and warming those neon irises into something that was less poisonous-hell-fire and more mellow-evening-in-the-forest.

Amidst all the rippling waves of ebony scales, your eyes caught on the smallest smear of crimson. Just a touch of red—right along the spikes of its tail. Carefully, cautiously, slower than molasses, you stepped forward with your hands raised. You whispered a handful of familiar words under your breath and your palms glowed fuzzy and blue. Dragons were supposed to be inherently magical, right? So this one would certainly understand that the string of syllables you’d babbled out were good, and helpful, and not at all a provocation. The dragon was looking down at you with lidded eyes, its gaze a bit unfocused. You gulped.

“I’m sorry my friends messed with your tail,” you apologized, gingerly holding your fingers out to hover over the abrasions without actually touching. “They were just trying to protect me. If—if that makes it any better.” The minuscule wound began to knit itself back together neatly beneath the pulses of your magic. “I do tend to need a lot of protecting—I’m not much a warrior, if that wasn’t completely obvious by the everything about me—so I can’t really blame them for being a bit gung-ho about it.”

After a moment or two, the scratches had faded back into solid, matte, black and you drew back with a content hum.

“There! All fixed!” You gave your most winning smile. Please don’t eat me, your brain chanted on endless repeat. Please don’t eat me please don’t eat me please don’t eat me—

The dragon reared back and settled on its haunches with another heavy puff of sweltering breath. You could feel the heat of it prickling all the way up your arms. After a long, long, moment of silent consideration, the dragon leaned forward again and rumbled deep in its chest. When you only stood there, properly petrified, it huffed again and bumped its nose against your sternum, nearly toppling you over.

“I don’t—” you started, nervous. “I’m sorry. I don’t really get what you’re trying to say.”

With another sigh that sounded entirely too put upon, the dragon lowered its great head. The air itself seemed to grow heavy against your shoulders, and you could taste the cloying bitterness of strong magics on the back of your tongue. Black miasma oozed from beneath the dragon’s talons and melted along its scales. The caustic scent of ash and petrichor burned along your nostrils, and you had to pinch your eyes shut and cover your nose to keep from coughing. You managed to sneak a peek past your fingers just in time to watch the shadowed outline of the beast collapse. And out of that puddle of black goo emerged a man­. He was tall and lithe, just as the dragon had been, with glowing green eyes that were terribly familiar. They were framed with thick, dark, lashes and sat perfectly on a face that was nearly too handsome to be human (well, it really wasn’t human you supposed, so that little tidbit probably accounted for said inhuman beauty well enough). Recognizable eyes and stature or no, the curling horns atop his head would have sealed the deal plenty well enough on their own.

He shook off the shadows twining around his ankles with a lazy twist of the hand and then turned to you with a curious little hum.

And holy fuck Mister Dragon apparently had no sense of shame, or maybe just no qualms about social niceties and practicalities, because his human self was wearing about just as many clothes as his lizard form had been.

You squeezed your eyes shut with a squeak, and then double covered them with your hands for good measure.

A chuckle rolled through the air—as dark and pleasantly rich as the finest of chocolates. And then there was a clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back, and back, and back until you were at least half-way sure it would probably be safe to open your eyes again without infringing on his decency.

“You are fascinating, Child of Man,” it—he—hummed, low in his throat. His thumb dragged down to hook beneath the curve of your jaw and support the finger tucked up under your chin. “And it’s been so, very, long since I’ve been fascinated by anything.”

“Uh,” you replied, like a perfectly functional human being.

The dragon’s lips curled up over his pointed teeth—still just as sharp and white as they had been when he’d been so much bigger and scalier.

“I think I’d like to keep you,” he said with a nod to himself, as casually as one may talk about picking up extra groceries from the market.

“Uh,” you said again.

“You did mention that you needed protecting,” he continued, tapping a clawed finger against his own chin. The small smile quirking his lips twisted into something smug. “And that is certainly something at which I would excel.”

Your head was swimming.

“I—I mean. I’m honored that you—that… you—” You couldn’t even think the words, let alone get them past your brain and out of your mouth. You cleared your throat and fought to keep your eyes level with his clavicle and nowhere else. “D-Don’t you think you’re moving a bit fast?” you laughed nervously. “I mean, I’m sure my friends will probably be on their way back down soon—and—I mean, we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. I don’t even know your name.”

He blinked, slow and serpentine.

“Oh. I suppose you wouldn’t.” He canted his head to the side, long strands of that inky black hair of his spilling across his shoulder. An amused sort of grin worked its way along his mouth. “Dragons are not keen to give out our true names so readily, but you seem like a clever one. Tell me—what do you think I’m called then, hmm?”

You glanced up quickly at the horns atop his head and couldn’t help yourself.

“Tsunotarou?”

He let out a bark of laughter that seemed to shake the walls.

“Oh,” he trilled, looking positively delighted. The hand not curled beneath your chin reached down to snag your own, and he brought your wrist up to his lips. You could feel the imprints of his canines against the soft skin there. “I’ll definitely be keeping you.”

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #Dragon Malleus #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #Monster Mayhem Malleus Part 1

[darlingdekarios]

abandon all hope.

RATING: explicit. 18+ only. — LENGTH: 9,131— Raphael x f![warlock]tav [reader]

CONTENT: being a patron is being a sugar daddy/mommy you can't change my mind, set during Act II canon, small amounts of alcohol consumption, toxic behavior/ expressions of possession/ownership, "fluff", SMUT [unprotected p in v], KINK(S) [praise kink, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting, scratching/clawing, blood, breath play, dacryphilia, just a little degredation, size], there's a lot of poetry in here I did my best, Haarlep cameo, the least Raphael could've done for killing an Orthon for him is fuck us ffs, have fun thinking Raphael is bad at sex I'm built different, this got out so out of hand

you had become his absolute favorite - his most precious client and prized treasure. it's become increasingly difficult not to admit that you're truly his forever...and he's ready to hear it.

"In a world of horrors where shadows loom, A tiny creature navigates through certain doom. A little mouse, determination in its eye, Hoping this will not be its last heard lullaby."

It would be a lie to say that very voice didn't send the most delightful of shivers down your spine each time it announced his presence to you - you hung on each syllable like he was speaking a new language you were desperate to understand. Though your back was turned to him as the corners of your lips twitched upward you could feel in your soul - the one that no longer belonged to you - that he knew.

Though you may have been doing your best to feign disinterest and even often annoyance at his dramatics, it was no secret that you found him amusing. Fortunately, he happened to feel rather the same, a creeping mirth building in his chest at this familiar performance you were putting on.

"Just when I was beginning to miss your theatrics."

It was only then he realized just how badly he'd yearned to hear your voice again in the time since it had last swam into his ears. Curiously - but perhaps not at all - he felt his mouth go temporarily dry as his next rehearsed verse fell from his mind momentarily. When his silence lingered you filled it gracefully as you knelt before a bucket of water, scrubbing your arms free of the blood that covered them as you worked off the most uncomfortable parts of your armor.

His stumble did not last forever - his practiced words would not go to waste.

"With the battle fought and her patron's foe slain, She has etched upon her weary soul so very much strain. With a gentleness most sincere, the Patron offers her rest. Her wearied body, soon at peace even in her mind, No longer bound by battles' fierce behest, Their worries, for a moment, left entirely behind.

For the strongest heroes, too, do need a moment's grace, To find their strength renewed in the tenderest embrace."

Though his continued lack of transparency was frustrating, particularly after the stretch of days you'd had at his bidding, you noticed the practice lilt in his words, the methodic delivery of his latest poem.

"Have you been practicing poetry for me again, my Lord?" your tone was filled to the brim with the very amusement you felt, amusement that was growing by the moment at the slight waver in his voice, the subtlest indication that now was one of few times his trademark control had faltered. "I must tell you, it really is quite sweet. I've never inspired such before."

Your pleasantries and a title you so rarely chose for him stirred a feeling oh-so rare and delicious in him, a tingle up his spine that spread a wicked grin across his face. Exhausted, and uncaring of the company at the moment you continued your work on seeking your own comfort, continuing to peel armor away from your figure and toss it to the side.

Maybe you knew the lack of attention would agonize him - maybe that was only just more amusement for you. Annoyingly, he was attempting to bury the desires as he always did around you, finding now that the feelings stirring were beginning to gnaw their way out from the inside.

"You flatter me with honorifics yet ignore my presence."

His words had the slightest bit of edge to them and yet the tone in which they were delivered could be described as little more than a purr. It was a tone you'd discovered was reserved to fall on your ears alone - he never spoke to you this way in company, though you didn't doubt others existed that were fortunate enough to hear it. It was delicious - made more-so by the sharpness to them, the gentle bite that warned his limits were being tested.

The fact you only heard it when you were alone meant you seldom travelled with companions for too long, discarding them when your interests were no longer the central focus. It was lonely, but few wanted to be at your side when they discovered the source of your power, and the moments like this reaffirmed your decision each and every time.

"In a land of shadows shrouded with a curse most horrific, Lies a weary hero, hoping her devil might be more specific. For if she doesn't soon rest, Her weary body will be for the shadows to ingest."

There was no denying the radiance and allure in his laughter - it rang out so beautifully it didn't fit in a place like this, it almost wasn't fair for such a joyous sound to ring out in such a cursed land. Now, you couldn't help yourself - you turned to face him with a light smile pulling at your lips, exhaustion written on your face accentuated by the blood of those you'd slain in his name.

It pulled at his heart, something that seldom occurred - you were truly always a sight like this, in his eyes at least.

"Your skills increase tenfold each time we meet," he complimented, the smile settling on his face matched by the pull of the wrinkles beside his eyes. "You were successful in your latest task."

It was a statement - not a question, the wordless affirmation of his continued faith in your abilities. Still, you could've given him a snarky response - the blood covering your body and armor wasn't enough of a clue for him? In truth, though, you'd began to enjoy the moments where he complimented you - even more the rare moment he actually thanked you.

"As always," your coy tone was the final act to try to hide the giddiness you felt now, as well as the fatigue that was slowly overtaking your body. When was the last time you had eaten? When he left would you simply remove the rest of your armor and do your best to build a fire and lay beside it, or would you simply make do with the cold ground beneath you now?

He could sense it; he knew exactly what was on your mind. In truth, your thoughts were mirrored in his - this was no place for someone of your caliber to rest, especially not when you'd been so very good for him already. He'd heard about your camp, of course, but seeing it for himself - well, it really was quite awful.

A snap of his fingers and once again you were in the House of Hope, the unmistakeable extravagant decor a much better sight than the lands you'd been traveling. Though it was a bathroom where you appeared it was already enough to almost bring tears to your eyes - it smelled delightful, a bath was already drawn with bubbles and filling the room with the warmest steam. Unsurprising was the small table beside it filled with fruits, meats, cheeses and wine that made a fresh rumble sound in your stomach.

"It is so very fortunate your generous patron is willing to reward a valiant effort, would you not agree?"

You huffed a breath through your nose as a smile spread further across your fae, heat rising in cheeks as you returned your gaze to his. "And who said devils are selfish?"

His beautiful laughter filled your ears again, the warmth radiating from the fireplace and the bath nothing compared to that which engulfed you just hearing the sound so entirely for you. His movements were smooth as he made his way to the small table, pouring a glass of wine with ease while his eyes stayed on you the entire time.

"You have undertaken quite the ordeal on my behalf, you deserve a proper display of my abundant appreciation," there was the unmistakable purr of sultriness beneath his tone, his strides predatory as he made his way back to you, eyes running up and down your entire frame again before settling on your eyes. "And a bath, though I do so worship the vision of my dark hero covered in the blood of my enemies."

"You show your appreciation by providing me my power."

"And yet," the pause lingered heavily - if you weren't so keen on enjoying everything he had to offer you there would probably be a quip about holding for drama, but now you only looked up at him with wide doe eyes - eager and expectant and deliciously obedient. "I find myself curiously wanting to provide you with more."

The look that was blooming in his eyes was a peculiar one - one of a fondness. He slipped behind you gracefully, one of his hands reaching to grasp your hip and turn you to face an ornate mirror before his arm fully encircled your waist, drawing you back toward his chest. His hand slipped up your body, avoiding any part that would have been too inappropriate to touch without express permission, to grasp your chin, holding your face gently but firmly as he angled it to look in the ornate mirror before you.

"The longer you have my power reflected in your eyes, the more beautiful you become. Wouldn't you agree? You are radiant."

Now it was impossible to pass off the heat that had risen in you as nothing more than the heat from the bath - with his hand just beneath your chin on your neck and his claws digging ever-so-slightly into your skin, the heat had begin to pool at your core. You were still trying to remain focused, to maintain the aura of strength you almost never allowed to falter…particularly around him. But with him pressed to your back and his eyes devouring you in the mirror like a feral animal with a long-awaited meal, there were certain signs from your body that gave you away.

The elevated heart rate. The blown pupils. The pull of your bottom lip between your teeth.

It didn't take any amount of perception to see the signs that were so plainly there, particularly not for a devil who was eager to look for them.

"As you've pointed out, I'm covered in blood."

"A testament to our combined strength, my pet," you were certain with the intensity with which he was staring into your eyes' reflection in the mirror that he had stopped blinking, finding an unchanging face each time your eyes closed briefly. "Do you mind?"

He was offering you the wine glass to free up his hand or to distract yours - it was impossible to tell, really. Regardless of the intent you reached for it, taking a drink and relishing the familiar fire this particular wine ignited in your throat and belly.

Meanwhile his free hand was lightly trailing over the bow to the back laces of your clothing, giving a subtle tug to seek permission as his eyes continued to burn into yours in the mirror. With a nod the laces fell free under the quick work of his fingers - it was somewhat endearing that you knew he could do this with the snap of his fingers, yet he was choosing to do it himself, to peel you apart with his own hands. What you'd been wearing pooled to the ground and revealed the aftermath of your battle in full, all of the bruises and scratches and burns that had no place there…unless they were given by him or on his word.

His hands found your shoulders first and with a familiar warmth your injuries became another part of your past, his eyes trailing up and down your body to ensure all that remained was evidence of injuries not belonging to you.

"Positively resplendent," his breath was hot on your neck as he angled his face closer to yours, his nose brushing behind your ear softly. "A painting of this image would be so suitable for a portrait of us, wouldn't you agree?"

Bravery - it was a characteristic of yours that he cherished nearly more than any other, one that provided endless entertainment (and often worry, though he was hardly eager to admit that). It was the very trait that sometimes pushed you to do or say the very last thing he expected, and yet you still managed to take him by surprise. Even now in his domain was one of those times, your face unwavering and intention resolute as you spoke.

"Not in this form."

All he'd offer in his momentary shock was a raised eyebrow before these features faded and he transformed to the figure he was meant for, wings stretching behind his back as he got more comfortable. This is how he was meant to look - how the two of you were supposed to appear together, the devil and his toy hero, you and the source of your growing power. It would take blindness not to see the radiance with which you two joined together, and even then it was palpable in the air.

Ignoring the many feelings and tensions that crackled between the two of you when you were together was difficult - and growing more impossible by the day.

"This is suitable for the foyer."

He continued to lean down behind you, swallowing you with his true height so he could press a singular kiss behind your ear before straightening his back, his hand that was still flat against your now fluttering stomach pulling you against him tighter. Your skin burned where his lips had graced it - tingling as though his the action was magic. Your body only continued to respond to him with all of the tell-tale signs: a rising temperature, parted lips, blown pupils, quicker breath.

He so adored that you were trying to maintain control - to maintain an unbothered façade.

"You prefer me this way."

It left his mouth as a statement, but you caught the subtle insecurity at the tail of the sentence, the way his words slightly trailed and his eyes flashed with a truth - and hope? - that was so rarely seen.

Was he afraid of your answer?

"You don't need to wear a mask around me," you were quick to silence his doubt and eager to put out a particular fire that threatened everything around it boiling beneath his surface. Your sincerity and sensitivity was hardly what had initially drawn him to you - he loved that you'd always been willing to tell him your mind without a care to whom you were speaking, even himself included at times. "You would know that I preferred you this way if you spoke to me yourself more often instead of sending your little spy."

Suddenly you understood the meaning of the phrase "devilish grin" in a new light.

"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?" he purred as he leaned down toward you again, his breath tickling the back of your ear and neck and his claws dug into your hip slightly. You tried to ignore the flare of heat within you, unwilling to admit it fully quite yet. "A flicker of envy, so very subtle but clear."

You huffed and rolled your eyes in response to his taunt, annoyed he could think of a rhyme so quickly and a charming one at that, and even more annoyed that it worked. Bards.

"Korilla does not enjoy the same…benefits you do," he continued when you offered nothing in response but the puff of air, a reticent hum vibrating in your chest as you raised the cool glass to your lips to take another drink. Your eyes met his in the mirror again as you realized how long they'd been focusing on his hands, allowing your gaze to stay connected as you continued to drink.

Of course, he was hardly one to leave a silence unfilled for long.

"And what of my own feelings?" he questioned, the twitch in his jaw accentuating the frustration behind his words that he was trying to tame. "So many people you meet these days and you haven't shared with a single one where you get your power…"

It was hard to focus on a conversation like this when his claws were now grazing lower down your thigh, red lines painting your skin the evidence the Cambion's claws had been there. In the mirror you could see how he lovingly soaked in the sight of each new mark - of each new claim of his territory. You'd have far more decorations from him by the time you returned to your own camp.

"What am I supposed to think other than you're ashamed of me?"

"No," the rejection of his insinuation came from your lips faster than any reply you'd given before by far, a fact that ticked his lips into a slight smile. Though the two of you teased anda taunted one another often, you were always well aware of the line before you stepped over it. "They wouldn't understand."

"They don't have to understand…they have to respect. Besides, it's not their soul to be bothered with, and you're hardly the only warlock in your little party."

"But they won't. With the Blade of Frontiers it is different…he had no choice, not really. I did - I could've chosen anything else…anyone else. And I chose you."

"Then you will make them."

You could hear the commanding tone he rarely needed to take with you begin to form in his words, a low grumble rumbling against your chest as he spoke. At this point you knew what little remained of his patience was so close to slipping away completely - but you still couldn't stop yourself from testing those tempestuous waters just a bit more.

After all, he needed you alive just as much as you needed him. Harm too serious coming your way was out of the question, and the proof you could take a bit of pain was in the stories that would be told about you and your adventures for years to come.

"It's just another contract to you. What difference does it make?"

The final impertinent word left your lips as his hand grabbed your chin, applying pressure and encouraging you to face him. He loomed over you in this form - a delicious fact - his skin noticeably hotter against yours as he leaned closer, trapping you between his body and the wall. Flames danced in his eyes, the raging inferno matching the temporary flare of anger he felt ignited in his chest. His grip on your face was resolute, thumb and forefinger grasping so hard your cheeks were squished together.

That would certainly keep you from further insult.

"I am so very fond of you, my impudent little mouse. Can you not see that is so?"

You'd been in many dangerous - increasingly so - situations recently, but the fact this one was one of the most was…invigorating. Invigorating in the same way as when he'd first approached you with a deal, in the way he'd complimented a job well done for the first time, in the way he was overjoyed when you returned from your kidnapping. In truth - because you were not foolish enough to deny what was a plainly writ fact - you were well aware you belonged to him in every aspect of the word. It was fun to test what boundaries a relationship like that presented.

Your heart was thudding against your chest harder and faster by the moment as he continued to regard you, fully aware you couldn't respond to his question through the hold he maintained on your face.

"I will not hear more of your ill-mannered mouth while I am being such a gracious host. You are far from 'just another' anything to me…"

There was a sincerity in his words that shattered any possibility of refute.

"…and I will not tolerate our attachment being hidden any longer."

A threat, or a promise? Both were equally exhilarating in their own way. With the expression on his face - furrowed brows, pinched nose, set jaw, and nostrils flaring with each breath - his feelings toward the situation were written plain on his face. He was done arguing - and you'd be foolish to push it.

"Perhaps I could have a collar fashioned for you that only I can remove."

His hand that still held your waist pulled you closer, a muscular tail winding around your lower legs to hold you against him. One of his legs slotted between your thighs as you pressed to him closer, hands clinging to his upper arms still. His face softened somewhat at the closeness, at the shaky breath that slipped past your lips as your eyes stayed oh-so focused on the way his curved into a wicked grin the more the thought blossomed in his mind.

"One that will burn you should you even try to remove it. Or perhaps better yet, a curse," as he spoke you found yourself drawn closer, entranced by the hardness in his pants that pressed to your waist now, chasing a kiss you weren't certain he'd give. "Or I could use hellfire to brand a symbol of my name beneath your eye - small enough not to ruin your beauty, large enough that everyone who sees you knows that you are mine."

He released his hold on your face only to drop his hand lower, lightly gripping your neck in a silent show of power. He regarded your expression carefully for any sign of distress and only grinned wider when he instead found observed your blown pupils and parted lips, his fingertips soaking in your accelerated pulse beneath them.

The fire in his tone sizzled for a moment, still lingering in each word but not quite as fearsome as even just a moment before. Sweet, almost - if you didn't know any better to see through the charm.

"Swear to me anew," he cooed, his thumb rubbing along the side of your neck as he spoke, eyes gazing at you with an expression that could only be described in adoration. The most temperamental volcano, fury subsided as fast as it'd come. When there was an offer to be presented, he could truly be oh-so-sweet. "An amendment to our existing contract. You are not to hide that we are joined together, or you will face consequences that will last forever."

Did it matter if you even truly had the option to refuse him when all you wanted to do was please him again? The proposition of more appreciation, the promise of his praise. That fact alone was enough to ensure your answer before you'd given it.

You nodded in understanding - specifics beyond what he'd stated weren't needed to convey the weight of his words.

"On one condition."

The bravery again - though your voice was more meek as you rightfully walked the fiery embers before you, navigating what you knew could still erupt again if you pressed too much harder again. To prove your point his eyebrow raised in annoyance, nose threatening to scrunch upward in frustration before you elaborated.

"We seal this contract with a kiss."

An expression that had almost been rage morphed into perplexity before a laugh burst from his chest, your mind lost in the sound and the view of his fangs, thoughts wandering somewhere fittingly sinful for your surroundings.

"And you talk about my theatrics."

Despite his taunting he brought you closer with his iron grip on your waist, the hand holding your neck still sliding up to your cheek as his thumb claw grazed along your bottom lip in passing. He looked at you like a child receiving a new toy, regarded you with an adoration often seen in temples.

And then, though there was still a subtle laugh shaking his chest, he held you reverently as he angled his head toward you. The rest of his expression as he approached would go unnoticed as your eyes slipped shut, holding your breath in anticipation…which he exploited for just a moment longer than was necessary before he finally gave you what you both wanted.

Your lips met like the strike of a match - the spark between flint and stone. It burned like frostbite and was over just as soon as it'd begun, taking your remaining breath with it.

It was a purr that rumbled in his chest as he ran his nose along your jaw that reminded you to breathe, his lips pressing a kiss over a pulse point on your neck pulling a gasp from your lungs as his hand slipped down the other side of your neck. Holding you like an artifact his fangs teased the skin on the spot for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened further, the tips of his claws threatening to break skin.

He withdrew before his composure melted, filling his chest with a deep breath to bring himself to full sense again.

"Come. I'm far from through with you, but you truly do need a bath."

It was…nice, which didn't quite seem wholly appropriate considering who he was and the fact the atmosphere had been threatening and tense only moments before. He sank into the tub first, motioning for you to join him by taking place between his legs. There was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that all of this was because he wanted something - everything possible from you, and that he knew the best way to reach his goal was to manipulate.

The fact you were aware of it did little to stop you from enjoying it.

He made sure he ate and drank in a silence you didn't know he was capable of as his hands made work cleaning your body, a bath in the House of Hope proving to be a lavish experience as the water remained pristine and hot no matter how long it went on.

*(Though, it certainly could've just been the heat between your bodies sustaining the temperature).

It was the first time you'd truly relaxed since a tadpole had taken residence in your mind, the first moment of bliss in days. When his claws found your scalp and scratched against it lightly as he massaged soap into it he earned a thank you in the form of the sweetest moan that just couldn't be held back by your lips. You felt his cock twitch against your back at the sound, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.

"My, my…who knew you could sound so melodic, my dear," his tone was best described as a condescending coo, treasuring the way you melted in his hold and couldn't help yourself from being his to play with. "I want to hear much more of you."

One of his hands slipped from your head down to rest on your stomach as the other went even lower to the top of your thigh, pausing still to wait for your reaction. When you leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes he took his sign, chasing more of a reaction from you by running a single claw softly up your thigh toward your core. The small gasp that fell from your lips wasn't enough, his disapproval noted with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was impossible to keep silent when one of his fingers connected to your clit, rubbing a swift circle quickly.

The cry that burst from your chest returned the smile to his face, a low laugh filling your ears again as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. Two of his fingers parted your folds as they slipped downward to your entrance, moans falling freely from your mouth you'd forgotten how to close. Taking advantage of the fact he leaned closer to claim your lips, reaching his free hand to hold the back of your head and ensure you couldn't pull away from him.

A dark possessiveness within him considered slipping his fingers into you to feel how your tight walls would grip him, though he knew it meant you would face the consequences of his claws. He could heal you, after all - but you'd always remember the feeling. He'd refrain on that particular thought…

For now.

Instead, he returned his attention to your clit, fingers circling the sensitive nub as his fingers tangled into your hair. He continued to kiss you past what your lungs could take, your eyes opening to attempt to gain his attention. His own eyes remained closed and he only held your head in a firmer grip - no doubt he knew though he couldn't see - and he continued that way until your vision was just starting to blur and your hole was clenching around nothing. Only then did he release you - releasing you fully by pulling his fingers away too - allowing you to take the breath you needed.

So close to the edge of release only to be pulled back away from it. It was a cruelty that made the first sound that left your lips when your breath returned to be a whimper.

"Please," you could barely get the shaking word through your lips, it could hardly be considered speaking when each letter was filled with a whine. "More."

"Now now, you will learn to take what I give you," he cooed, releasing his hold on your head to run the back of his fingers down the side of your face and neck, lightly pushing your head to the side to press a kiss beneath your ear. "With no questions asked. Won't you? You'll have to show me you can be patient."

You couldn't help the whimper that slipped past your lips again, your body singularly focused on its need for more. Your eyes are wide and desperate as you gazed at him, hands reaching to grasp at his thighs and squeeze. "'s not fair…"

Your ears were filled with his boisterous laugh again before he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, allowing his lips to stay against your skin as he spoke.

"Perhaps not for you, but it's perfectly lovely for me," you realized as he spoke that he was having fun, a giddiness in every word that proved it. Unrehearsed, without anger, without practiced intentions. Him. "Finish up in here at your leisure, then join me in the boudoir."

With a snap of his fingers he was gone and the option to beg for more removed you were alone, left to wonder exactly what awaited you when you did join him. The kind of excitement that matched the feelings of fear and anxiety bubbled in your stomach, making your movements a little clumsy as you navigated your way through one last wash of your body.

The feelings remained as you removed yourself from the water, realizing immediately you'd been left with no towel or robe or clothes to utilize on your walk. Feeling a flare of preemptive embarrassment you found your way to the hall, doing your best to navigate quickly as you muttered to yourself.

You were distracted in your search that you didn't notice Haarlep had stalked up to you from the dark after you'd passed until their voice filled your ears. "My, my, aren't you just delicious," he purred, continuing to walk closer toward you when you froze in your tracks. They circled you like a predator circled prey, like a painter studying their subject - it was enough to make your face burn again. "I wouldn't mind slipping into your image for the occasional rendezvous."

"Haarlep."

Their name left your lips as a gasp and they stopped in front of you with a wicked smile, handsome and proud and no doubt every bit as convincing as their Master, if not more. "So you do know me. How flattering."

You were cornered against a wall with one of their forearms resting next to your head, the other grasping your hip in fingers much gentler than the ones they were mimicking. They leaned closer until your lips were brushing together feather light, the anticipation of a kiss lingering heavy in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing again.

"Oh, what fun we will have together…"

Their sinful tongue left their mouth to lick the seam of your lips until they fell open, the muscle slipping into your mouth to kiss you fully and hungrily. As you swallowed their spit you started to feel new levels need, the definition of the word insatiable finally grasped in your mind. One of their knees knocked apart your legs as their hand left your thigh, slipping to examine how wet you were and finding their digits slid through your folds with embarrassing ease.

"Mm…but that will be for another time," there was a sincerity in their words that made them so believable and you were certain they were correct about it. "Tonight, your job is to make him a bit more tolerable for the rest of us. Be a good pet and behave, won't you?"

As they sauntered away in a pace that existed to entice you to follow they threw one last wink over their shoulder, pointing you in the direction of where you were meant to go. In a haze you made your way to your destination, opening the doors to find your Patron sitting on the grand bed with glistening satin sheets, lounging back against the headboard with his arms outstretched, waiting for your arrival. He'd covered himself with an expensive robe, the one he'd deprived you of.

The red of its fine fabric matched his burning aura perfectly.

He observed your clumsy movements as you closed the doors with light amusement until the two of you were once again alone, his eyes appreciating your clean form as you walked to the foot of the bed. With a smile he raised a hand to motion you forward with one finger, his features fittingly illuminated by the hellfires that illuminated the room.

He was beautiful. Enticing. This very room could become an easy prison with no locked door if you allowed your resolve to slip.

"Come," he invited in a delicious tone, using one hand to untie his robe and allow it to fall open. He patted his thigh afterward to further elaborate on his instruction, one you were more than willing to follow. "Crawl to me…show me what an obedient, eager little pup you can be."

You did exactly as he told you to, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets against your skin as you made your way to him. You climbed into his lap and straddled his waist between your thighs, core hovering over his hard and throbbing cock that you now wanted more than logic should reasonably allow. He felt how wet you were when your thighs made contact with his skin, breathing in deep to take in the scent of your arousal.

"My, my, how very eager you are," he spoke of you as if he was being presented with the meal of a lifetime. It made you feel desired in ways you weren't sure you'd be able to experience with anyone else for the remainder of your life. "I have to wonder, did my naughty toy find you along the way?"

You nodded, the only response you found yourself capable of, grinding down against his waist in a way that allowed his length to slip through your folds and spread your slick. His hands grasped your hips to follow your movements, chest vibrating against yours with a quiet purr as he appreciated your movements.

"Oh, of course they did…sometimes they just can't help it, the sinful thing…"

Both of his hands found their way to your thighs to grab them roughly, not making any effort to be mindful about his claws in places it wouldn't seriously hurt you - something that would become a pattern for the rest of your time together. Under his fingertips he could feel the welts that raised as a result of his scratching, smiling a charming smile as he took in your expression.

Finding you perfectly needy for him he reached one hand to grab your jaw and pull you closer, leaving his face hovering inches from yours. His skin was noticeably hotter against yours now, the undeniable evidence that he was just as effected by your closeness as you were his. His other hand gave your ass a swat to encourage you to raise up on your knees again, licking his lips when he could then reach toward your core and run his fingers through your folds again.

It was easier to feel the arousal he - and Haarlep, now - had earned when you weren't submerged in a tub. His fingers took the distance from your hole to your swollen clit painfully slow, matching the deep inhale he filled his lungs with along the way. Lost in how his hands felt against your body again you hardly noticed his tail wrap around one of your legs to hold you against him tighter, ensuring there was no chance of you climbing off before he'd had his fill.

It was hardly something he needed to do, but the implications of it made the experience all the better for him - and for you too.

"Don't forget to speak to me, my dear," he cooed, no annoyance present in his voice though he was hardly happy he had to remind you as he exercised a bit of patience at your current state. "I simply adore hearing the desperation in your words."

"Please, I need…"

Though he'd requested them your words were cut off as he pulled you against him rougher, pressing his throbbing length up into her core as he does. Your sentence quickly turned into a moan, your hands grabbing at his shoulders so you could cling to him in every sense of the word.

"Do go on."

You hated that his taunting tone sent a shiver down your spine and a hot wave of arousal straight to your core. Your desperation flooded every word that came from your mouth. "I need more," you were begging without having to be asked for it, something he would thank you for at a later time. "Something…a-anything you'll give me."

"Anything I'll give you?"

Was that particular choice of words a mistake? You found you couldn't come to a rational answer as you became lost in the embers of his eyes. You nodded, grinding against him to further your consent and ensure the point was driven home - you wanted him in whatever capacity he'd provide, in any way that would earn you more of his favor.

You hadn't realized your lip was quivering and your eyes were slightly watering out of the desperation but he had, soaking in the sight of you so wanton and lustful for him. It was his favorite look on you by far, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to see how truly indecent he could make you behave.

And all for him.

"Then prove to me you deserve it. Prove to me you're worth the effort from me and then I will prove to you that you are mine."

You only leaned closer to entice him the rest of the distance between you. You reached between your bodies with one hand to grasp his cock and rub it through your folds again, lining it up with your entrance and teasing down onto the tip slightly to test what he'd allow. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to express a thought that disappeared as you began to sink onto him, maintaining the eye contact you knew he loved as you moaned out his name quietly. He forgave you when your eyes fluttered closed to focus on taking his length and girth, your forehead falling down against his shoulder as a heavy breath fell from your lips.

"That's it," he was quick to compliment your efforts to ensure you knew how much he appreciated it, hoping the praise would keep you from giving up. "You can take me. Do not get discouraged…"

Your head nodded as another steady breath left your chest, shifting your hips to find the right angle to take him in. Though his words were honied you knew he was hardly the patient type and to avoid a temper change you pushed yourself onto as much of his length as you could take, finally earning a groan from him that was worth the quick shot of pain that being stretched like this brought. One of his arms reached to wrap around your waist and his other hand found the back of your head, cradling you against his form. His wings soon joined, wrapping both of you in privacy and what felt like the ultimate safety.

Within his wings it would be impossible for anyone who entered to see how well you began to ride him after a long adjustment period, how after several minutes of grinding and shifting and allowing him to pump into you you began to take him perfectly. Though he maintained his hold on your head your lips were finding their way to any place they could reach on his neck, chest, and jaw, eagerly nibbling and licking and sucking - testing if you could mark him like he'd undoubtedly mark you.

He decided you were testing him when you bit into him hard, his surprise announced by a grunt and a squeeze from his hand holding your hip. He gave your hair a tug to pull you upward into a hungry kiss, your moans joining together in the room as your hands grabbed his horns to hold him against you.

This is how he wanted you for him forever.

As your tongues danced your movements slowed, his hands meeting on your upper back to press your chest closer to his. Allowing you a partial breath he pulled away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure as his claws dragged slowly down your back, pressing harder the lower they reached as he experimented with what you'd allow. You were eager to prove exactly what he'd requested - you could take what he would give.

His own head dropped to claim one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple and flicking the nub several times before he changed his efforts to suck hard enough to bruise, glad he could stay here without a real breath for longer than what you may have previously experienced. He only pulled away to bite a mark into the soft flesh that immediately spilled some blood - as you continued to ride him exactly how you liked you either didn't notice or you didn't mind, either of which were fine by him.

"Very good," he purred, remembering how well you normally responded to his praise. He was thanked by a quiet moan and your walls tightening, fluttering around his length as he struck just the right cord in you. "Should I allow you release before I have my way with you?"

You were nodding before his sentence was fully complete and begging incoherently as your face buried into his neck again, continuing to lavish the skin with kisses. Your thighs began to shake at the mere thought of release, at how it would feel to gush around his length and how he would moan feeling you constrict him.

Whatever words he chose to give you permission were not fully understood, only their intent mattered. Though he wanted to pump into you at his own pace he allowed you to find release in this position yourself, happy it didn't take much longer for your walls to clamp around him and your head to throw back in ecstasy, your screams undoubtedly filling every wall in the house despite the closed door.

He held you down on his length as you spasmed through the high, enjoying the feeling of your body against his and focusing on how you felt held in his arms. He was always going to take what he wanted from you after you'd found this release but the longer he soaked in how small you were against his frame the more his own carnal desire began to take over his thoughts, a feral need building that wouldn't be long ignored.

"You have hold of me like an addiction," he breathed out heavy, shifting his hips beneath you - earning a whimper - wondering how much you'd truly be able to take. "So…unh…tight…"

Before you had fully returned to your senses he was pushing you onto your back, staying inside you with little effort and pinning you down with one hand on your stomach. His other hand rested at the base of your throat with his forearm beside your head, and just as your mind began to fathom how dangerous the position you were in was he kissed you slowly, silencing reason once again.

You could feel how sensitive you were as he pumped his length into you a few times - slowly to test your reaction. He pulled away from the kiss to examine your face, finding it filled with pleasure and overstimulation - traces of pain were there but you gave no indication he needed to stop.

"Do you think you can take what I will give you?"

His lips moved against yours sensually as he spoke, and you opened your mouth to answer for only a sob to be released. Instead you just nodded, hoping it would be enough in the circumstances and looking into his eyes with a pleading expression. He pressed a kiss to your bottom lip and pushed every inch you could take into you roughly, earning another sob that was muffled as he bit into your bottom lip enough to cause it to swell. He pulled away from the action with a wicked grin and savored your expression for a moment longer before this position came to an end.

He pulled out of you slowly, moving to stand next to the bed. In your haze you listened to him give you instructions to get on your knees and elbows, instructions you followed hastily on shaky limbs as he stroked his length watching you obey. When you were finally presenting yourself to him exactly how he wanted he mounted behind you, still grasping his length in one hand as his other reached forward to circle your dripping hole with two fingers.

"Precious. I will try not to break you."

His fingers were gone and replaced with his cock swiftly, his restraint gone as he thrusted in as far as he could, still trying to press further when he reached the end and smiling when the most beautiful cry filled the room from you. He groaned out deep as his hand found your stomach, pressing against it to hold you upward, reaching his other hand to slip the fingers that were coated in your slick into your mouth.

"So small beneath me," he breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss over one of the red welts he'd created on your back. He engulfed you in this position, you were at his complete mercy - all hope of being anything but his ever again gone. He would never give you up. "On your knees for me. Just where you should be."

He forgot to be somewhat gentle with you as he thrust into you at a feral pace - or perhaps he just didn't care how little you were able to move when he was through. He continued to kiss your neck, shoulders, and back in any place he could reach, his teeth marking your skin anywhere he could manage. His claws were just as helpful in regard to marking you, reaching to scratch at your thighs and back - until he focused his hand's attention on your ass, spanking and scratching and grabbing roughly as proved to give him additional leverage as he pounded into you.

He was already obsessed with the way you took him with moans and cries while ensuring you stayed in the position he'd molded you into, eyes transfixed on how your tight hole took his length. When this whole Absolute ordeal was taken care of at your hands, he'd happily take this sight every day.

"Look at you just taking me," his voice was shaking now, matching your legs once again. His hand left your stomach to squeeze your throat, accentuating the fact that you were truly just taking whatever he would give. "And you do it so well, you sweet thing."

Content with how marked you were for him his hands instead grasped your waist in the gentlest grasp he'd offered yet, not quite matching the ferocity at which he pounded into you. Through blurred vision you were half aware of the familiar figure that slipped into the room through the shadows, the incubus unable to keep away witnessing what was filling the House with the irresistible sounds of flesh smacking against flesh.

You didn't know if Raphael noticed - you didn't care. You doubted a complaint would be heard if you offered one, and they would leave after you'd reached your release and they'd heard your euphoria anyway.

(Though you did momentarily hope that sinful tongue they'd offered earlier could be put to a better use, though you knew your body would be spent by then).

"Give me another," he ordered, feeling how your body was tensing up again at the threat of release, eager to feel you snap again. "And I want to hear it…"

He reached to rub your clit again at a speed that matched his thrusts, eager to feel how tight you'd squeeze him when you came undone, already intoxicated by the way your velvet walls were fluttering around his length. He was taking what he wanted from your body at a roughness that would no doubt leave bruises for you to feel on the road to Baldur's Gate - he certainly wouldn't heal marks that were a gift from him covering your back and neck and causing you to walk with a limp that so clearly displayed you had coupled with him.

He let you fall to the bed fully, only finding he was able to pound into you harder as you laid flat on your stomach. Unwilling to have you pass out he grabbed your hair on the back of your head and pulled hard enough to force it back so you could continue to breathe, leaning his torso over yours until he could twist your head and claim your lips in a rough kiss. He was hungry - feral - fully lost in himself as he chased his own pleasure, releasing all inhibition as he found his release. The only warning it was coming was the sloppiness that overtook his thrusts as the end neared, a growl rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from your lips to instead bite into your shoulder.

His seed was molten as it filled you, overflowing past his length. As his release filled your womb his teeth broke your skin and he tasted your blood as he was lost in his pleasure. He'd crave its flavor that was entirely you just as often as he'd crave claiming your womb now, knowing the mark would show you were his.

He continued to pump into you slowly several more times, holding you still as you squirmed and whimpered from the overstimulation, hearing the shake in your breaths and sweet sounds that proved to him you were crying. When he decided to pull out completely his chest shook with a quiet, dark laugh, finding a comfortable position straddling over your ass. His hands were loving in the way a curator's were with art, running over your scratched and bitten back adoringly for several moments, fingertips tracing the marks that would last the longest. He leaned down to press a kiss to a particularly possessive bite mark before removing his weight from you, rolling you to your side to to check that you were still capable of coherency.

You blinked up at him with glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks proving he had been right about your tears. He leaned to press a single gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulled the blanket over your weak body. Selfish of a creature as he was, he was still capable of some semblance of aftercare - though that was it, it was enough from someone like him to someone like you.

"Well done, my dear. A wonderful demonstration of your devotion to me."

This praise - this tone. The very reason you'd do anything he asked, become anything he needed you to become. Anything he asked of you in a moment like this you'd provide. Part of you wondered how long it would take for him to exploit that fact.

"Next time you've behaved for me I will have Haarlep join us. They can lick my seed clean from you as I watch how you look beneath me."

(You'd think more on that particular promise later, when your mind was capable of wrapping around anything other than Raphael's finger again).

His new tone was undeniable and impossible to ignore, the reverence steeping every syllable enough to drown in them. Appreciation, worship. It was difficult to decide if being beneath him or hearing this newfound depth of praise was more fulfilling. You nuzzled closer to him still just barely conscious, physically submitting to the exhaustion that overtook every inch of yourself.

You nodded your head lazily in agreement before burrowing your face in his neck, enjoying the familiar scent of cherries, musk and sulphur that had come to mean power and protection to you. If you were lucky those sinful notes would linger in your senses in the coming day.

Though he was far from one to cuddle, he wasn't one to complain when presented with any show of mutual adoration from you, and he allowed his tail to drape across your legs in a subtle concession to your own desires.

Beyond that, he was still, but he was content.

"Rest," you were intoxicated with this voice, one you couldn't help but wonder how few beings had heard it, one free of any performance - honest, soft. "You will need it before you continue your journey. When you wake you'll be in camp with your cohorts, and when you reach the city again you will return to me."

In your last moments of consciousness, you remained his eager little pup.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

#raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #haarlep x tav #haarlep x reader #raphael smut #bg3 smut #raphael fanfic

[purple-writer8]

Suburban Legends - ACOTAR

Azriel x Winter Court Reader

“When you hold me, it holds me together.”

warnings: unrequited love, pining, evil thoughts, intrusive thoughts, lesser fae thinks shes not enough, hating on girl, self doubt, self loathing, reader is a handful, ice powers, groping, lesser fae slander

1.7k words

Part Two to Heather

Masterlist :)

He kissed you. Azriel kissed you. And then you winnowed away, because he kissed you in a way that you knew would screw you up forever. Because Azriel could never love you. You were not soft like Elain, were not some soft baker with beautiful High Fae features.

No. You were just a winterling. A lesser fae that iced everything around her. You paced the House of Wind, paced and paced through the entire manor— scared out of your mind of seeing Azriel again. Why would he kiss you?

Your mind raced and raced and raced.

Azriel deserved someone better than you, he deserved Elain. Not some winterling that got jealous because of a sweater, jealous and you two weren’t even together. Oh, you were so embarrassed— you wanted to die. You got a quick snack in the kitchen, thanking the house for it, and then you rushed up to your room.

Cauldron, you would die of embarrassment if you saw Azriel.

The way that he kissed you, it killed you, because you knew that you were doomed. How were you supposed to live now that you had tasted him? He had kissed you out of pity, you were sure. Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do.

As you ate your chips and dip, you noticed a shadow slithering underneath your door. You ignored it. He probably just wanted to know if you were freaking out or something.

You heard footsteps outside your door and froze when they stopped in front of it. You whispered a curse when your plate with your snack turned to ice, you really had to start controlling your powers.

A knock sounded against the wood of your door, and you wanted to die. You could feel the ice appearing through your body, invading your skin as it did whenever you were in distress— a winterling defense mechanism. You remained silent, unmoving, and after not answering the door for minutes, the shadow and it’s singer left— footsteps disappearing down the hall.

You were tempted to run out of your room and go after him but you were never going to do that. You would die of embarrassment if Azriel simply rejected you, telling you that he only kissed you because he felt bad.

-

Azriel knocked on your door every night for an entire week, maybe to reject you, or maybe to send you on a mission. You were not sure, but you had barricaded yourself in your room. If you were needed for a mission, Rhysand would reach you, you were sure. Your room had turned into a winter wonderland, your anxiety making your ice powers almost uncontrollable— and frankly unbearable. You were sure you had frost bite by now.

A knock sounded to your door, and instantly you turned to it, watching for the shadow that would always check on you when Azriel came. But no shadow appeared. “Darling? It’s me.”

Surely you could die from embarrassment when you heard the High Lord outside your door. You whimpered when more ice manifested from your fingertips, it fucking hurt and you were sure your fingers could be thawed off your hands any moment now.

Dark majestic talons caressed your mind, and you were tempted to let them in— but instead reinforced the walls that kept Rhysand out, because how fucking embarrassing is it to let your High Lord see how you’ve iced your entire room just because a guy doesn’t want you.

You are supposed to be better than that. But you weren’t.

“Open the door,” the High Lord ordered, and you complied.

His violet eyes widened when he took in the state of your room. “I… What… I… Ice.” Was all he managed to say as he stepped into the room, shivering as the cold hit him.

You smiled awkwardly, unnaturally, “hey.”

“So when Cassian said you turned his room into ice… he meant this?” Rhysand asked and you nodded, awkwardly shifting your weight on your feet. His eyes took in your form and you almost covered your face, but you didn’t. Because the one person who knew all your flaws and ugliness was your High Lord, and he accepted you that way.

It wasn’t a pretty sight when you lost control. As a winterling lesser, the powers that you had were all ice ones. You could wield ice from your fingertips, and when distress happened upon your body— ice bloomed through your flesh, because your blood turned cold. You weren’t good at controlling them; so when anxiety hit you, your veins turned black and you froze everything around you.

Every vein in your body was noticeable, your eyes were white, and you were covered in ice.

Rhysand was probably disgusted by you.

“Azriel says you’ve been cooped up here since game night. Says you won’t open the door for him.” Rhysand stated as he looked around your room, blinking slowly as he took in all of your belongings being frozen.

“For him. But I opened the door for you,” you answered sheepishly.

“He let me know what happened… that night when he went to get you outside… I…” You put your hand up when he said those words.

“I know. I know. He doesn’t like me. I was stupid to complain about a sweater. I mean, my audacity, right?” You laughed dryly. Rhysand frowned, eyeing you— then eyeing your room.

With a snap of his fingers, your room was back to normal. “We’re going out to Rita’s tonight, join us,” Rhysand stated simply, and you were about to decline, but his stern gaze told you that it was a command— not a suggestion.

“I would much rather stay in,” you try anyways. Rhysand shakes his head. “So you could drown in ice and self pity? Get a grip, darling.”

You don’t admit that it hurts. It was not self pity, it was self hate, loathing. You ultimately nod, because you know he is not gonna let you just wallow in your sadness even though it’s all that you want. “Talk to him,” Rhysand said before winnowing away.

You scoffed at nothing. Absolutely not. If he rejected you, which you were sure he would, it would cause you more self hate than you could ever deal with.

You got ready that night in your usual attire. Glittering gowns with diamonds that resembled little snowflakes, reminiscent of your origins. You would look at the clock as you did your hair, and when ten pm rolled around and Azriel did not knock like every other night that week— your whole life was ruined.

At eleven you called for Rhysand in your mind so he could take you down to Rita’s and that he did, though the flight was silent. You were not very fond of him ordering you to hang out when you were miserable.

At Rita’s, you wanted to die.

Azriel was there, sitting silently next to Elain. And instantly your evil mind was hoping she got poisoned by the cocktail she was gently and elegantly sipping.

You truly were unlovable and unlikeable, huh?

You could feel those hazel eyes on you, though no shadows came to greet you. You did not dare meet his gaze because you were sure you would hurl ice all over the floor, so you rushed to find your High Lady and Mor who were chatting by the bar.

They greeted you happily, chatting you up over things you could care less about— because how could you focus when you could see everyone fawning over the shadowsinger in your peripheral vision. He was so magnetic to every fae that it was almost obnoxious.

Feyre started talking about the mating bond with Mor, indulging her in a debate about whether all mates were meant to be. All you could do was fantasize about you and Azriel, mismatched as you may be, surprising the whole court by being mates.

A fae can dream.

A male appeared out of the blue— a handsome male— and he asked you to dance. You indulged him. It was better than standing there pretending to care about Feyre and Mor’s conversation. You loved them, but your mind was elsewhere.

The male danced to the music, swaying along with you, his eyes focused on your white ones. “Shit… I can imagine you sucking my cock with those looking up at me… a perfect lesser fuck,” you gasped at his lewd words because, what the fuck?!

Your heart thudded and you smelled danger, so you gave him an awkward smile and stepped back from him, only for him to snake one strong arm around your waist, tugging you close. “I-Uh, have to go,” you chuckled nervously, looking around for your friends, though the sea of people dancing made it near impossible for you to see their usual booth.

“What does a little lesser like you have to do that is better than being with me?” He asked, leaning down to your ear, an act that sent shivers down your spine. Fear. Which was stupid because you were a spy for the Night Court, you could handle him.

Before you could even snap at him, his hand groped your behind, causing you to gasp and push him away— but in that moment he was stronger, so he tugged you right back to his bulky body. “Who do you think you are?” You scoffed at him, a snarl on your face.

“I’m taking you home tonight, lesser.”

“Over my dead body.” The man stumbled backwards as he looked over your shoulder, to the shadowsinger that had appeared between the crowd. Every fae in the room turned to look at Azriel, at the icy rage that surfaced on his perfect face. He parted the crowd as he stood there, his wings tucked tight as he glared at the High Fae that had been harassing you.

A comforting shadow slinked to you, wrapping around your icy wrist gently. Its gentleness was a stark contrast to the sheer anger it’s master exuded from his being.

“Fuck… I didn’t know… didn’t know she was yours, shadowsinger.”

“Now you know not to fucking touch my mate.”

-

Part Three

Author’s Note:

this definitely needs a part three i know

General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs

Series Taglist: @illiicits @dee-writes-smut @going-through-shit @saltedcoffeescotch @evergreenlark

#Spotify #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acotar #acowar #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel supremacy #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar fic #batboys x reader #batboys

[mordredisacoolname]

BRIDGERTON BROS FALLING FOR A MALE READER

Male reader

HEADCANONS

Characters: Anthony, Benedict, Colin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anthony

-this boy is in DENIAL

-what do you mean he's in love with a MAN??

-he's so doomed

-you were very tight before

-spent every day together

-he really enjoyed your company, more than anyone, and he didn't understand why

-but when he realized he loved you he started avoiding you like the plug

-you don't understand why

-even tho you made peace with liking men and than fact that you're in love with your best friend, you didn't think he returned the feeling

-so you think you did something wrong

-you try talking to him but every time he finds an excuse to be somewhere else

-he is jealous of every man you talk to

-he doesn't have the right, but he still feels it

-after weeks of avoiding you he realizes the feeling won't go away

-so he with Benedict to a party, and sees you kissing a man

-you mean he has a chance with you???

-he barges to the room, his fist aching to punch the other guy, but he controls that feeling and just orders him to get the fuck out

-you're shocked, both just standing there staring at each other

-anthony steps closer to you starting intensely at your eyes

-"I think..." He doesn't finish the sentence and just kisses you

Benedict

-he first meets you in an art class

-watching your hand gracefully moving the paint brush on the canvas

-his starting is interrupted by lord Granville, asking him why haven't he started sketching

-by the end of the class you compliment him on his painting, making him feel something funny in his chest

-next time you're both in the studio he gathers the courage to talk to you, learning you'll be at the Granville's party next week

-you both meet there and spend the whole night together, you invite him to your studio, just the both of you

-he spends the leading days thinking about you

-"so, you want to pose or should I do it?" You ask him once you've taken out the canvas

-"I'd like to paint you" he saying with a playful twinkle in his eyes

-you settle into the chair in front of the canvas, posing for him

-"you know, I've been wanting to practice some anatomy"

-you understand the hint and take off your top, smiling to yourself

-after he's finished for the day you get up to look at what he did

-"so, what do you think"

-"this is amazing" you tell him

-"well, the muse is all to blame" he gets closer to you, looking briefly at your lips

-"oh sorry, next time I'll make sure to move in my sit and not let you work"

-"I won't be complaining if you were the one distracting me"

-he smirks looking into your eyes

-this waiting is killing you so you lean forward pressing your lips against his

-"we'll see next time" you say and leave him standing alone in the studio, eager for your next session

Colin

-you're a featherington relative visiting your family

-you're the closest to Penelope, always getting along

-you arrive together at the ball, all dressed up

-you're in a middle of a conversation with Pen when a man interrupts you to say hello to Pen

-"oh hello, I haven't seen you before" he looks at you in slight awe

-"I'm Penelope's distant relative, 'name', nice to meet you Mr....?"

-it takes Colin a couple seconds to respond "oh right, I'm Colin bridgerton"

-"the famous bridgerton, what a pleasure"

-"famous? You've heard of me?"

-"of course, Penelope never stops talking about you Mr bridgerton" you smirk at her red face

-"ah, that's nice, I think"

-"well, I shall go speak to other people, enjoy your night, Colin"

-he's absolutely smitten

-your voice, your smile, everything

-he visits the featherington house every day after that night, just to see you

-you talk a couple of time, and once he invites you to play cricket with his brothers

-you have am absolute blast, winning against Colin all the time

-he's usually good at this, but he can't seem to pocus

-except he does focus, just not on the game

-one day you sit together on a bench, watching people pass by

-"I'm returning to my hometown in two days" you suddenly say

-his heart sinks

-"what?"

-"yeah, I don't really see a future here, I thought that I'd find me a...wife, and settle down, but no such luck"

-his mind goes blank, he can't lose you

-he's next day he hurries over to the house, asking for you

-you're in your bedroom reading something when he storms in

-"is everything well Colin?"

-"don't go, stay here"

-"I told you, there's no reas-"

-"stay for me" he tells you before he overthinks it too much

-you're surprised, not because you didn't feel something going on between you, but because he actually said it, you thought it would never happen

-you're kinda relieved Colin presented a reason for you to stay, with him

#male reader #male reader insert #x male reader #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #Anthony bridgerton x male reader #Benedict bridgerton x reader #Benedict bridgerton x male reader #colin bridgerton x reader #Colin bridgerton x male reader #bridgerton x male reader

[broadwaytheanimatedseries]

Obsessed with the set up and payoff in every hatchetverse show:

TGWDLM hides it in its comedy pretty effectively: "take out the head, and the whole thing goes down!" The key to the main conflict buried in a nonsense monologue by the one note jerk character

Black Friday takes full advantage of their magical psychic child to be cryptic and ominous: "two doors not one" probably being the most obvious example, but a notable one is "Cross" as I think it's not just about Wilbur but also about Lex, who reaches across the threshold into the black and white

(Admittedly, that last bit is probably a strecth)

And NPMD drops all pretenses and leans into the horror of a doomed narrative by telling you exactly what it's about: "it's true! Human sacrifices! Demonic rituals! Sex magic!" All promises fulfilled by the summoning and the subsequent bargain made between Grace and The Lords In Black.

Then there's like, chronologically reversed foreshadowing? Okay so like what I mean by that is like, so you know the Hatchetmen?

Yeah, the angry mob that killed the Waylons and their starry children cultists?

You ever notice how they're never praised? Never honored or spoken of fondly?

Oh sure the town is named after them, but that's probably because they were the only ones around left to name it, and they named it after that time they did that murder together.

But they keep being referred to as hatchet wielding maniacs, even as they are recalled as the ones who put a stop to an evil cult it doesn't change the fact they weren't good people either.

There are no good guys in that story, not really.

And uh, how did Ted put it again, exactly?

"There are no creeps. There are no heroes. There are only people who are alive, and people who are fucking dead!"

Hatchetverse is really fucking good at fulfilling narrative promises, is what I'm saying, I guess.

#dee writes #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #Hatchettfield trilogy #tgwdlm #black friday #npmd #ted spankoffski #he really became the mvp of this post #call me T'noy Karaxis #the way I be shaking Ted around in his little box

[hana-no-seiiki]

REPLACED.

YANDERE! ROCKSTAR (FEROZE KHAN) x GN! MANAGER / PA ! READER x YANDERE! POP IDOL (JISOO HAN [EVE] )

FEROZE BELONGS TO MANAGER READER AND @moyazaika !! Just wanted to make a lil gift for my lovely moot 💋

[ Part 2 : REHEARSAL ]

You were absolutely terrified.

Lord knows how you were able to get the Feroze Khan to agree with collaborating, with a “goody two shoes” pop idol who flirted to hell and back with you, no less. But you just knew someone was going to get hurt by the end of this.

Eve used to be your client before you were dumped into the depths of hell. Aside from the flirtations and clinginess, he was a dream to work with as a manager. He never got into scandals, and he worked day and night to be the best in his craft. You never had to worry when it came to his career. You however, took that for granted and left him the moment you got a better deal. Getting to work with a junior idol vs a seasoned rockstar, the choice was obvious was it not?

Nope.

Eve making tons of songs about heartbreak only poured salt into the wound. You saw him as your little brother almost, it was hard seeing him grieve for your presence. You felt heartless. Guilt ate you up from the inside out. You were lucky he didn’t try contacting you after it all.

Until now.

heeeyyy there! beena while. you workin with Feroze at the moment right???

You squinted at the DM you received. As a manager you were used to dealing with all sorts of texts. Thirsty ones, death threats, collaboration requests. But none of them made your heart beat this quickly. Was it out of excitement, nervousness, or terror? You didn’t know.

I am.

short and straight to the point as always!! i’ve always loved that about you

∧,,,∧

(  ̳• · • ̳)

/    づ♡

take my love, wontchu?

You covered your mouth and squealed.

“The fuck?” Feroze looked up from his guitar at the noise you made. He had to admit it was cute but it did ruin a recording of his.

“Sorry, I’ll go outside.”

“No, stay. I need you here.”

You simply nodded, already used to his obsession with you at this point.

annyyyywaysss i just wanted to ask if you could secure a collab with me n mr. khan?

been tryin to get ahold of him but all i got back was radio silence 🥶

but i know if it’s you, the bestest manager ever, i’ll be able to collab with the bestest rockstar in the world!!

i’ll be a good boy i promise!! pretty please with a cherry and me on top?

Somehow you doubted that. But as your own self appointed protocol states, you must report the matter to your client.

“Feroze, you’ve got another collab request.”

“Was it the person that got you squealing?”

Oh no, you did not like his tone. Jealous Feroze was a monster to deal with. “. . . Yes ? “

“Go for it.”

“What? D-don’t you want to hear about their music style and what not before you—“

“I just have one condition. They have to come to me.”

And, you were doomed.

“Right. I’ll schedule a meeting.”

You stand corrected. They got along well. A bit too well for your liking. You didn’t have to stand awkwardly there while Feroze glared (as he usually does) at his collaborator. In fact they were even conversating! And it wasn’t small talk…

“Mr. Khan! You’re even dreamier up close.”

Your employer even seemed to be amused by Eve’s personality. “I could say the same for you, Eve right? Like the biblical Eve? And please, call me Feroze.”

“Yeah! They thought it’d be a nice call back to my more . . . type of music.“

“Type of music you say. . .”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Oh, you bet I am.”

Why do you have a feeling you were being replaced?

YOU RECEIVED A SPECIAL POSTER!

Check it out?

[ ✅ YES ]

[ PART 2: REHEARSAL ]

tempted to make a bl/mlm spin off of these two fr fr

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | moyazaika | 2023

#hns.art🎨 #hns.eve #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere oc #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #oc #art #my art #fic #fiction #yandere fiction #yandere scenario #yandere short fic #yandere original character #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oc x you #yandere ocs #yandere singer #yandere idol #yan #yandere original character x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #gn reader #yandere x gn reader

[thepunkmuppet]

I have spent so much time thinking about the miss holloway musical WHICH THEY HAVE ALREADY WRITTEN and I need to spill my thoughts about it

there is no point or end to this it’s just a brain fart of all the thoughts I’ve been having so enjoy I guess lmfao

“backstory”. it will be about her backstory. was she an 80’s music star who sold her mortal life for fame in a deal that backfired on her?? or was she a woman with the gift about to be hanged by the hatchet men who saved herself by making that same deal?? HOW FAR BACK DOES THIS GO IS WHAT IM ASKING WE KNOW FUCK ALL ABOUT THIS WOMAN

if it’s the former, I would love to maybe have mariah as casey (the girl with the gift in the witchwood who asked for her autograph) be an actual character who holloway maybe tries to help. also kim singing 80’s songs fuck yeah

and if it’s the latter then,,, oh wow. some heavy musical numbers, a shitload of hatchetmen / church of the starry children lore, and maybe another form of the lords in black (maybe the creepy hooded figures that we see drawn in the black book???)

also sorry EDIT I just looked at this picture again and the middle one (probably wiggly) is holding a knife. there’s no fucking way that’s not the black blade this is absolutely miss holloway guys omggggg

I would love to see this scene on stage with kim!!!! this would make 5 different forms of the LIB that we’ve seen / heard about (dolls, teens / humans, their true forms, wiggly in made in america, and whatever this is). I’m just imagining you see these black hooded figures, and then in the pro-shot you get a good look inside their hoods… and their faces are NOT human. like just imagine a massive purple eye staring out of one of those hoods, maybe even moving and blinking, a cool animatronic thing. SO CREEPY!! I also love the idea of switching up the actors again - I love jon so much as wiggly and I don’t think they would change him bc of his voice, but with the rest of them I think any actor can play a LIB which opens up so many possibilities…

I also would love to know how miss holloway met duke, and potentially even how many times they have met and then he had to forget her. considering the fact that we now have weird lore about his dad in 2005, did she know duke when he was younger?? did she help him out when he was a teenager, or help his dad?? is it a family thing, like she’s vowed to watch over the keane family or something??

duke’s dad is a big part of this tbh, because what a random insane lore / backstory drop, like WHAT? I genuinely have no idea what douglas keane sr’s murder could be about, except that it ties in to duke and to wilbur. and shows that 2005 is SO DAMN IMPORTANT

2005 was the year hannah was born, the year the portal to the black and white was created, the year wilbur cross went insane and became a disciple of the LIB, the year miss holloway took on the mantle of “miss holloway”, and (very likely) the year miss holloway and wilbur fought. so i think it’s safe to say that the musical itself will be set in 2005, which to me means macnamara and wilbur backstory alongside holloway and duke, which is very very fun

I like the idea that wilbur and macnamara were canonically together, and I really want to see pre-LIB wilbur. I also love the idea of macnamara and holloway working together or even becoming friends - despite being set a decade and a half before nightmare time, it would feel like the culmination of the two hanging plot threads / overarching arcs to me. also the idea that it was holloway who introduced macnamara to the paranormal and therefore essentially set up PEIP and doomed wiley is some juicy stuff that I would LOVE to see, especially if either macnamara or wiley lived in hatchetfield as kids and miss holloway helped them, inspiring whichever one of them to set up PEIP

ok so leading off of that I have a clear vision of a potential final scene that is driving me insane, and that’s the main reason why I patched together this post.

the final scene is the fight between miss holloway and wilbur, the one that happens in every single timeline.

and the basic idea is that we see both fights at once. there’s a song, and the stage is like black friday and spies are forever, with a level above the stage the actors can walk up to and stand on. joey and kim sing, and do their bit on the stage, but above the stage there are either doubles or a projection, mirroring the choreography. only in the pro-shot version, they would splice in joey and kim playing both pairs, which I just think would turn out looking really awesome despite being tricky to pull off live.

and yeah basically at the exact same time, one wilbur stabs holloway, and the other holloway stabs wilbur, creating a gorgeous visual representation of the newly splintered timelines.

either that or they do a trail to oregon and just do a different ending each night, and then splice them together in the pro-shot like I was saying. but I personally prefer the first one, if they’re able to pull it off and make it look good

and duke shows up just after that, having followed miss holloway throughout the story so far. and in the universe where wilbur’s dead, miss holloway makes him forget it all, hence this being the year that she takes on the new name and the fact that we know he has forgotten about her / her true past before. and then in the universe where holloway is dead, he holds her as she dies in his arms. bonus points if we get dying holloway saying “please don’t forget me” and living holloway saying “you have to forget me”. oh and just to be cruel, both dukes saying “I could never forget you” at the same time :) stew on that for a bit. yeah. fuck you I guess lol I woke up and chose violence today apparently

the idea of the two of them finding each other again after that in some timelines is just gorgeous to me, especially given the fact that NMT3 seems to suggest them finding each other AGAIN after she needs to make him forget. truly star crossed lovers they are so insane for this

in summary I guess what I’m trying to say is I think it will include miss holloway’s full backstory and then be mostly set in 2005, and centre around the opening of the black and white portal (macnamara and wilbur), miss holloway meeting duke (wilbur murdering duke’s dad, possibly something with lex and hannah if duke was already a social worker) and eventually the big fight between holloway and wilbur, ending in the audience seeing both potential endings. also obviously a reference to hannah’s birth because that seemed to be some kind of catalyst. thank you for coming to my utterly deranged ted talk goodbye

#anyway yeah that’s my two cents lmk what you think please please please!!!! #the idea of the holloway musical is keeping me up at night it’s literally all I can think about #miss holloway #duke keane #douglas keane #wilbur cross #uncle wiley #general macnamara #general john macnamara #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #hatchetfield universe #lords in black #nightmare time #nmt #starkid #team starkid #starkid productions

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Lord of the Rings but I've never watched it

*slides into the post with a creepy smile* hello maggots it's me back again doing what Satan put me on this green earth to do, summarise things I have no authority to summarise.

I kind of read the Hobbit when I was like 9 or 10? And I may have seen a scene or two from the movie(s)? But that's it. So of course let's hear my hot take on the series.

The elves are hot. Like really hot. They are fucking pretty. Everyone is such a slut for them.

Now I hear some of you lil shits saying no asmi actually i'm a hobbit person no actually i prefer the dwarves and one motherfucker who says actually i'm a gollum kinnie and I'M PREEMPTING THAT BY CORRECTING POINT ONE. MOST PEOPLE ARE SUCH A SLUT FOR THE ELVES. DON'T MAKE MY POST WEIRD.

Oh yeah Gollum was a hobbit but now he's married to a ring and he calls it my precious.

I think he's also a cannibal. Not to indulge in profiling, but he looks the type.

There are like horsepeople of the apocalypse except they're just horsepeople of Smaug and they're like scary. I think their music theme/call is very cool. I do not remember.

Who is Smaug? Smaug is Bendover Cumsnatcher.

On reflection, the horsepeople might be of Sauron, not Smaug.

Who is Sauron? Idk but it's his ring and he has an eye.

Martin Freeman is the hobbit named Bilbo and he had to shave his legs for the fake legs so he has shaved legs in one Sherlock episode.

There's an old dude named Gandalf. He wears robes and says mysterious shit. He has a wand/staff and a possibly homoerotic history with the villain. He has white/grey hair and a long beard. He's the main character's mentor sometimes.

No, what do you mean R**ling's Dumblewhore is a ripoff of that? I see no similarities at all.

He's grey and then he dies and gets whitewashed by the narrative.

Frodo is played by that one actor that reminds me of Aamir Khan.

Frodo is like Freeman's nephew or something. He has a bestie named Sam. They take the ring somewhere to destroy it.

It could be Mount Doom. It could be not. It is in New Zealand. Idk.

The pretty elves live in Rivendell. I've studied to Rivendell ambience before.

The hobbits like comfort and they eat second breakfast and elevensies. I stan.

Thorin is dwarf. He's the king of something.

I had a Hobbit activity book when I was a kid. It was very cool. The riddles were fun.

Galadriel is an elf and they just made some kind of backstory series with her and ruined her character which seems on brand for modern cinema.

There's some kind of book called the Silmirallion or Similarlion or Smillylirryon IDK IT HAS A SI, L, M, A, R AND ON.

Uhhhhh that's all I've got. I am open to being educated, even though I clearly know everything about this.

#good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #maggots #back on my bullshit #lotr #gandalf #the lord of the rings #hobbits #smaug #thorin #rivendell #jrr tolkien #lotr fandom #lotr summary #the hobbit #sauron

[dilatorywriting]

Congratulations on 4K!!!! Here's to many more who discover and fall in love with your incredible prose 🍻

I'd like to request:

86. “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers, like Romeo and Juliet without the ending.”

With Prince Stefan (surprise, surprise) if the mood strikes you lmao

Thank you so much for sharing your work with us, and for doing this little event!! Can't wait to see what you've cooked up next weekend 👀

Gender Neutral Reader x Prince Stefan (Twst OC) Word Count: 1.1k

Prompt 86: "We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers, like Romeo and Juliet without the ending."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

You’d always joked that Stefan was basically like some fairytale prince come to life. The sweetness that never seemed forced, the genuine kindness and care with which he treated all things. His regal bearing, the fact that he rode a grand, impressive stallion with ease, and—who could forget?—the literal crimson cape hanging over his shoulders like a king of old. The face thing helped too. All sculpted planes of rugged handsome that made you feel like you’d wandered out of a garbage can in a back alleyway in comparison.

But somehow, even then, you hadn’t expected him to be an actual, factual prince. Which was honestly really fucking stupid, all things considered. Seeing as half of your friends at Night Raven had royalty in their blood in some way or other. ‘Prince’ and ‘Lord’ were nearly as common as ‘Mister’ over there. And certainly Royal Sword Academy was meant to be doomed by the same logic as its rival.

“So you’ll be ruling a kingdom someday?” you asked. “Like, crown, and scepter, and ‘my word is law, peasants’ ruling?”

“I guess,” Stefan shrugged, brown bangs flopping shaggily over his eyes. “Though I like to think I won’t be that bad,” he added on a huff that was nearly a pout.

You waved him off. “Sure, sure. You’ll be the one person in history completely untouched by the temptations and corruption of power. But like, an actual prince?”

Another huff, though this one sounded far more amused. The brunette leaned forward to try and snare an arm around your waist and pull you back against his chest. You’d been sitting cuddled up beneath a lovely willow tree, reading in the afternoon sun, when the revelation had hit. And the poor guy looked like he’d sacrifice life and limb to slip back into that cozy silence. But no way were you letting this drop. You wriggled away like a particularly determined worm and settled opposite him criss-cross-applesauce. Hands on your knees and stars in your eyes.

“Do you get access to the dungeons? And cool stuff like that?”

He snorted a laugh into his palm.

“Why do you want to know about the dungeons?”

You shrugged. But honestly, most of your friends at NRC were probably headed for the gulags or worse. It’d be nice to know you had someone on the inside, whenever you inevitably needed to break one of them out. (Floyd was looking like a strong bet. Though he could probably manage to slither out of any jailcell he found himself in all on his own)

“It’d be fun, s’all.”

“Fun,” he chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement. “Alright. But yes. I do have access to all the records of imprisonment and things like that. Not that I go down to those places if I can help it.”

“Of course, of course,” you nodded, filing that information away into the back of your brain for a later date. “Can you declare war? Like, whenever you want?”

Another laugh.

“Wars and dungeons?” he asked, and narrowed his hazel eyes in faux suspicion. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure,” he hummed, and ducked forward to try and snatch you up again. You rolled onto your back outright and through the grass—coming to a stop at the roots of the grand tree.

“And what about the rest of the royal stuff?” you continued. “Surely you must be engaged then, right? To another prince or princess out there?”

The pleasant gleam in his eyes dimmed, and you watched his gaze dart away. Heavy and uncomfortable. Which—

Oh.

He… he totally was, wasn’t he?

Something twisted in your gut—sour and sharp. And you regretted ever asking in the first place. Because of course someone as wonderful as Stefan was meant for someone else. And always had been. The dalliance with a little mortal from another world was just that—something fun, and easy, and destined to end by the summer. You swallowed past the building lump in your throat and decided that maybe this hadn’t been a great topic to push after all. You looked back up, ready to crawl back into his lap and ever so tactfully immediately change the subject, when Stefan met your low gaze with fire in his eyes. He reached out and clasped your hands tightly in his.

“I’m going to marry who I want,” he declared, firm, and loud enough it had your ears ringing. He gentled the volume a bit before continuing. “That stuff’s all ancient protocol, anyways. Time to move on, y’know? Modernize.”

“Modernize,” you parroted, feeling a bit thrown by his sudden ferocity.

“And if my father gets upset…” he mumbled, brow pinching in the middle. “Well, we can just run away then. Live in a cottage in the forest. Or, well, something like that.”

“We?” you gaped. Because holy hell. It was one thing for there maybe to be some subtle implications thrown around. But that wasn’t—that was pretty—ah—

“We,” he smiled, warm as mulled wine. And at your wide-eyed, overwhelmed expression, he eased that grin back into something lighter. More teasing. “What do you think? We could be like the forbidden lovers in all those stories!” he crooned, waving his arm through the air like he was at the start of telling some grand tale in a tavern. “An epic novel of our own creation! Like Romeo and Juliet!”

That jolted you out of whatever ‘ohmygod, ohmygod’ spiral had taken over your brain. “Really? Romeo and Juliet?”

“Well,” he grinned, sheepish. “Without the ending, I hope.”

“There are so many better love stories without the suicide pact!” you complained. “Pride and Prejudice. Midsummer’s Night Dream. The Princess Bride. Fucking, Scott Pilgrim even—”

“Okay, okay!” he laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “I get it! No more literary metaphors from me.”

Stefan leaned back against the tree, looking loose limbed and comfortable. And this time, when he opened his arms to you with a little eyebrow waggle, you sighed and curled up tight into the little, personal nook he was offering.

“But it does have it’s appeal, doesn’t it?” he mumbled into your hair. Sounding a bit far away. “Just running away together. No more responsibilities, no expectations…” he trailed off, eyelids drooping. “It’d be nice.”

You sat in silence for a moment, letting the sun play across your laps and his fingers twine through yours. And then—

“Anastasia.”

“Hmm?” he mused, lifting his head from your shoulder.

“We can be like Anastasia,” you said, fighting the heat rising along your cheeks and towards the tips of your ears. But you were pretty sure he could feel it, with how close he was tucked up against your side. “Not a perfect ending, but a perfect beginning,” you quoted, feeling a bit silly.

But Stefan just smiled against your shoulder with a contented little sigh.

“A perfect beginning, huh?” he repeated, sounding far, far too warm. “That sounds about right.”

.

.

#4k Event #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #Prince Stefan x Reader #Stefan x Reader #Prince Stefan #Twst OC #My Writing #Writing Prompts

[hrefna-the-raven]

Hot as Hades

Misc. masterlist - masterlist

Chapters 1 - 2 - 3

Warnings: none

Words: 1620

Summary: getting ready for the next date (this chapter will be a bit boring, sorry in advance)

Chapter 4 - Invitation

"Whaaaaaaat-is-it-now?!", he bellowed, causing them to immediately fall into silence.

Pain and Panic exchanged glances, uttering unintelligible words to each other before one of them eventually took a step forward.

"Your most lugubriousness, we're sorry to disturb you but uhm you have a visitor."

"Guys this is the Underworld", Hades scoffed while conjuring himself a drink, "we constantly have visitors down here, like", his hand waved towards the never-ending stream of souls spiraling downwards past the window, "permanent visitors."

He sipped on his drink as he sunk back on his throne, already dismissing his minions' announcement under unimportant when suddenly the heavy stone doors of the throne room swung open, crashing into the walls on both sides.

"Brother", Zeus swaggered into the room as if he owned it, grabbing Hades by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.

The Lord of the Dead growled, squirming to free himself but failing.

"What brings you to my room of doom, Zeusy?", Hades grumbled, finally able to free himself out of Zeus' iron grip.

"Aw Hades, can't I just check on my favourite gloom from the tomb brother?"

"You rarely, no wait, in fact, never do so. And forgive me if this sounds a bit impolite, but I'm highly suspicious. Sooooo what in the undead are you doing down here?!"

Hades' voice cracked, his attempt to conceal his anger failing, his venom slowly seeping through his words. The night he spent with you was absolutely enchanting, from the delightful conversations to the shared laughter at each other's jokes. He could feel the intense desire you had for him, and he wouldn't forgive himself if he allowed anyone, especially his meddling brother Bolt Boy over there, to ruin it now. His gaze shifted towards his brother, who suddenly appeared overly interested in the table that still stood in the room, a physical reminder of the sweet memories he had created together with you merely hours ago. As if on cue, Zeus turned around, revealing a delicate sapphire belt held triumphantly in his hand. A self-satisfied grin spread across his face, growing more pronounced with each passing moment.

"Did you have a visitor?", Zeus asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a mischievous manner.

Hades' eyes widened in shock as he saw your belt dangling from Zeus' hand. He jumped up and snatched it away.

"None of your business", Hades snarled.

The last thing he needed was Mister High and Mighty snooping around his affairs. He knew Zeus too well, having experienced his meddling firsthand. The first time, it resulted in the rather involuntary responsibility of overseeing the underworld forever, the last time, it ended his relationship and, because it wasn't bad enough,Hades had to make constant, very conscious effort to forget all the instances where he got the blame for his brothers fuck ups. Therefore, he had no intention of divulging any information about you. At least in his scheming mind, he deemed you his which granted you the status of underworld business, and so solely his, business.

"Anyway, tomorrow, Olympus. Make sure to come, brother. It will be a grant gathering of everyone, oh and I've heard intriguing things about the lady you're with, I'm curious."

"Oh why don't you ask Aphrodite? I'm sure if things are being heard, she might want to add some details", Hades muttered.

"I don't know what you're talking about. It's all Greek to me", Zeus winked and vanished, leaving a frustrated Hades behind.

Wasn't it already enough that his brother had imprisoned him in the thankless task of ruling the underworld for eternity? Why did he have to endure Zeus invading the very space of his confinement as well? And for what? To invite him to...something, probably a party. And you were supposed to accompany him, an unspoken invitation, and by extension meet the other gods. Hades closed his eyes, his fingertips pressed into his temples, slowly massaging the growing headache away. He called out for his minions, his muscles tensing at the irritating shuffles of their small footsteps on the stone floor as they approached, giving him a nervous salute. With a snip of his fingers, dark smoke materialised into a wrapped package he had gotten earlier from the Fates, hovering in front of Pain.

"Bring this to her, tell her I'll pick her up at sunset and nothing more! Capiche?"

"Yes boss!", Panic replied a little too eagerly, snatched the package, and scurried away with Pain.

As soon as you stepped into your house the following day after a tiring day at work, you sensed that something was amiss. It felt like the atmosphere had shifted, and there was an unfamiliar disturbance lingering in the air. As you passed through the kitchen, you instinctively grabbed a knife and cautiously made your way towards your bedroom. Carefully you pushed open the door, ready to defend yourself, but your steps came to an abrupt halt as you spotted two young boys energetically jumping on your bed.

"What in the-?"

"She's here, she's here!", both interrupted you and crawled off the bed, holding up a package.

"The boss will pick you up at sunset, wear this, nothing more!", proudly announced the boy with brown hair.

"That's not what he meant by saying that, you idiot!", the blonde one intervened, slapping the other one on the back of his head.

"Oh and how would you know what the boss meant? I was there when he gave the instructions!"

"Me too! Have you forgotten already?"

"You must be Pain and Panic", you sighed amused, giggling, finally putting the knife away and taking the package.

"At your service", both smiled, saluting you.

"So this is from Hades?", you asked, earning an eager nod from the boys.

"Please tell him we delivered and only did as asked", Pain requested, transforming back into his original form.

"We mean like really really put in a good word for us, we don't wanna be maimed", Panic added.

And with that, they both disappeared. Intrigued, you opened the parckage and ran your fingers along the smooth black material of a gown. You let out a gasp as you slipped it on, realising that not only did it reveal a generous amount of cleavage, but the fabric itself was see-through, but it also was as if magic concealed certain parts of your body, so never too much was revealed. As you gazed at your own reflection in the mirror, a delightful warmth began to spread between your thighs. Your mind danced with thoughts of the upcoming evening and Hades' intentions, especially considering the revealing and seductive nature of your robe. You weren't left with much time to wonder when you felt the air shift and the Lord of the Underworld emerged from a cloud of dark smoke beside you.

"Hi babe, I'm a bit early so I figured I'd pick you up here since we've gotten to know each other a bit better yesterday, you know it's more personal and all", Hades strolled around you, his eyes scanning the room, "I must say I dig your style, simple and yet those small skulls and bones give this place a personal touch, thumbs up-", his gaze finally landed on you, "wow wow wow, babe, I uhm, it suddenly got super hot in here and it's definitely not me for once!"

You chuckled at the god standing in front of you, his eyes roaming over your form, dilated pupils and open mouth, unable to hide his burning desire and you could have sworn that his flames burned even hotter than usual.

"You sent the robe."

Your voice broke Hades out of his train of thoughts and brought him back into the present moment with you.

"The Fates picked it", he casually remarked, attempting to regain his usual cool demeanour, "and they weren't wrong when they promised me I wouldn't regret it. But something's missing, hm hm hm", Hades pondered, tapping his finger against his lips, his brows furrowing, "ah yes I know! Let me help with the final touch."

Your hair started moving on its own, swirling and twisting until it formed a chignon at the back of your head adorned with a small bird skull. The tips of the few long strains hanging down on the side of your face were tinted in an almost glowing shade of the same blue as Hades' flames. A silent wow left your lips as you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. The combination of the elegant hairstyle and the flowing robe draped around you gave you a shimmer of divinity and a smile danced across your lips as you turned around hugging Hades.

"It looks perfect, thank you", you whispered, your words barely audible as they sank into the soft fabric of his toga.

"So well, are you ready to start the night?", he asked anxiously, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

You nodded, though a hint of suspicion flickered in your gaze as you observed him.

"Then get ready to meet the family!", he spoke quickly, his arm encircling you tightly as he pulled you closer.

"Wait what?! Does that mean we're going to O-", you cut yourself off with a scream as your surroundings seemed to dissolve.

You closed your eyes, nausea pooling in your stomach while every muscles in your body tensed at the feeling of weighing tons and being weightless at the same time. Just as suddenly as it began, it abruptly ended again and when your feet felt steady ground underneath, you cautiously opened your eyes and gasped in surprise.

"Olympus", you murmured, blinking several times, half-expecting to find yourself back in your own home, awakening from a dream.

Chapter 5

#disney #disney hercules #hades #disney hades #pain and panic #zeus #disney zeus #hades x reader #hades x you #hot as hades #reader insert #disney villain #disney x reader

[preet-01]

I've had this idea for a few days. Batman Max/Catwoman Daniel

When Max decided to don the cowl and cape, he’d done it to protect the city he’d grown up in. For the most part at least.

Gotham ran rampant with crime — mob bosses, crime lords, and costumed villains alike ran around causing havoc. The GCPD and district attorneys did the best they could, but corruption was more common than one would think. So Max had become the protector that the city needed.

By day, he was the elusive, playboy billionaire with more money than anyone ever needed. If Max Verstappen wasn’t off doing some rich person extreme sport, then he was believed to be in his empty manor with a new flavor of the week. And by night, much to the chagrin of Alfred, he was vengeance personified. A demon bringing fear into the eyes of Gotham’s rogues gallery.

But for all he caught the Joker, Scarecrow, Harley, Ivy, Penguin, Riddler, and all the various other rogues that weren’t actually deadly but more like nuisances that would ruin a perfectly gloomy day with their antics (particularly Condiment King or fucking Calendar Man), one rogue always seemed to evade him.

Catwoman.

He’d heard conflicting rumors about the cat burglar, but one thing remained consistent — the Cat was drawn to shiny things. And despite all the doom and gloom that Gotham was known for, there were countless shiny things for the Cat to steal.

He gets his chance to catch the Cat when there's a new museum exhibit opening. He doesn't go to the museum, no Catwoman is smarter than that. Well, Max hopes that Catwoman is smarter than that because otherwise, Max has been unable to catch an idiot.

Instead, Max heads over to the mayor's mansion. The mayor's wife had recently been in the news for buying a new diamond necklace. it was ostentatious in Max's opinion, but with the new diamond necklace resting on the mayor's wife's neck, then the rest of her jewels would be back at the mansion.

_____

Max is crouched in the shadows as a man dressed in a black skintight suit and cat-shaped cowl sneakily enters the mayor's mansion.

He doesn't make a move until Catwoman (or is it Catman? He'd only heard Catwoman from other Gothamites and talk about how Catwoman's childbearing hips. He would have to ask about that) leaves the mansion.

With his grappling hook, Max swings over to the roof that Catwoman is using for his escape.

"That isn't yours," Max growls, thankful for the voice modulator he uses these days.

"Haven't you heard, darling, finders keepers," Catwoman drawls. His lips quirk up in a smirk. "I was wondering when the Dark Knight would honor me with his presence," he continues on, raking his eyes down Max's body.

"Honor?" Max questions, no rogue was honored by his presence. Terrified? Yes. Manic? Almost always. But never honored.

"Oh, definitely an honor, Batsy," Catwoman retorts. "And as much as I want to explore this, I've got brand new pearl necklaces to try on."

"You know I can't let you leave with those," Max states. He's got a batarang in hand.

"A shame, darling," he sighs and jumps off the building, "until next time!" He yells. To Max's surprise, Catwoman lands on all fours like an actual cat would.

#batman au #maxiel #Batman max #catwoman daniel

[kit-williams]

Cuckoo Anon

Firmly assuming this would be non Canon but this popped in my head and I Must spread it!

Everybody Here is 21+

You know those kinda cheesy romance novels you see in the book/magazine sections of stores?

With handsome, sometimes shirtless, men holding collapsing women in long silk gowns? With titles like The Highlander's Woman or Drowned by Temptation.

...You have to turn your eyes away with a blush as you walk past the book section in your local grocery store.

Astarte romance novels, a Whole new genre has popped up over night and you are Not coping well.

They range in subject and Marine type, Taming the Chaos, Renegade Revelry, His Loyalty Abounds.

Oh lord you are So embarrassed but you can't look away! Or rather you keep flitting your eyes trying to not look, only for them to get pulled back.

The photography for them was honestly immaculate, and that makes you both respect the artist, and loath them all at once.

Good lord, you should just hurry up before Your Astartes gets back from finding his items.

Then again...a quick peak wouldn't hurt. Just for curiosity! In fact you'll Only read the description! Not actually going to read about...that kind of stuff with a Space Marine.

You reach for the shelf.

"Hrm?"

"Eep!" You jump at a familiar grumbling greeting behind you. Whipping around you see your Astarte, with him is a cart full of items he'd set out to retrieve. His posture portrays confusion at your sudden outburst.

Your embarrassment doubles, and your blush erupts filling your face and neck with heat. "Ah h-hey b-buddy! Don't sneak up on me like that! You almost made me jump out my skin! Hahaha." You try to play it off, while blocking his view of the shelves that must not be named.

Your Astartes still looks confused. He tries to peak around your body.

You move to intercept. "Ah hey! Did you find all you stuff?? Great! Great! Let's head home I'm pretty ti-ERD!" You yelp as you big fella gently picks you up and places you to the side.

"Wait No No No! Don't look!" He holds you back just using one arm as if blocking a pet trying to snatch something off a plate.

You can't bear to watch and cover your face with your hands. Maybe he won't understand the titles? Oh please let him not understand your written language! He has eyes doesn't he? He'll clearly be able to see you were eying books about handsome space marines sweeping mortals off their feet. You're pretty sure Astartes can understand Context Clues!

"Hrm..." Your woken from your dooming as your marine grunts again, and you peak through your hands. He's  straightening his posture, and he's-he's got something in his hand.

He'd plucked one of those FORSAKEN romance novels off the shelf, then without another word, places it in the cart.

He then sets the cart in the right direction, and with an exceptional gentleness brings his ceramite clad arm behind your person to usher you foreward.

Curiosity, though baneful to you already, bids you look at which one he'd grabbed. Perhaps he thought you wanted it and were too embarrassed to ask. The thought makes want to melt into the floor.

Until what you see surprises you. The book in question doesn't feature your marine type on the cover, not even a similar faction. But the human model does share some physical qualities with...you??

You glance up at your Astartes as you walk. He glances to you, and...the arm behind you moves from simply nudging you along, to being gently but tenderly wrapped around your form, bringing you closer to him.

You blush for an all New reason, as your space marine continues to proceed to the checkout.

Maybe...maybe those novels aren't so bad after all.

I like to think a lot of these are penned by either people fucking/getting fucked by their Astartes OR are written by Astartes themselves. Oh sure you'd expect the far more SPICY novellas to be written by either noise marines or Chaos space marines dedicated to Slaanesh right but then there's one or two that's being written by a Black Templar with a pen name and a whole god damn author persona because he would rather flog himself publicly naked then let anyone know he's the one writing those erotica level novellas about a Chaos Space Marine seeking redemption and using the power of love as a way to heal, and of course the other series he writes about some mortal and a Black Templar.

Of course I also see the grocery store romance novellas also sometimes being set back home usually just either sticking to a single location but given the scale of 40k that either single fortress monastery or battlecruiser is large enough to contain the plot. Also you bed your britches that for those photography ones that got some battle brother from that specific warband/chapter/legion to pose because if you're going to have a trashy cover and use photographs and not god damn paintings that they use to have then its going to be accurate. (Its the Emperor's Children... both Loyal and Chaos who handle this)((Occasionally the Blood Angels))

As for you dear reader... how cheesy some of these stories can be though sometimes they have a habit of veering off into borderline horror at times with how grim and dark some plot lines can get. Sure if you pick one up about and probably written by a Chaos Space Marine there might be a likely hood of casual sacrifices being mentioned though bless the editors and publishers for making sure those stories are properly tagged. However, even the darker novellas tend to follow the 'power of love' trope, the guy gets the gal, etc. (For better or worse in the case of Night Lord stalker and/or yandere romance/erotica novellas)

Goodness me what started out as one or two books has amassed into a collection... and you don't think you can find anymore to add to it when you clearly get ahold of a story written for an Astartes verses a human. How can you tell? Well besides it being written in gothic and from what you've been able to translate how it is written in a very different style... but far more focused on the mortal. Perhaps like with the different types of marines they've got stories that focus on the mortal?

You can't say only speculate as your Astartis refuses to answer you. But how are you to know he's been writing about you and all the filthy things he would love to do to you. Basing the pair in his books, for both mortals and Astartes, off of the two of you. But who can say... its only speculation.

Tag list: @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon

#warhammer 40k #non canon husbandry #you know how tempted I'm just to make a “spicy” husbandry au/tag #literally the same as my sentience just more sex #it's really hard to keep the lusting out of the normal tag #cuckoo anon #tales from the barn #is there some esoteric lore for husbandry in here? #shrug emoji #mayhaps #i couldnt add much to the prompt

[cuubism]

wip wednesday so. here's a 'wip' (crack fic i binge wrote instead of working on my actual wips that are weeks if not months overdue in updating oh god)

necessary context: matthew has not yet learned that hob is immortal

--

“Alright, listen up, team!” Matthew cawed to the handful of dreams and nightmares gathered around him. “Most of you guys were here before me. What was it like last time Lord Morpheus had a catastrophic relationship failure?”

“Bad,” said a tiny dream in the shape of a mouse.

“Thanks. Very helpful,” Matthew muttered. “Wanna offer any specifics? Did the world end?”

“Yes,” said a ghost-like nightmare, rolling its eyes. “The world ended. This is just a collective hallucination.”

“Technically, it is a collective hallucination,” said another nightmare that looked kind of like… a computer? Matthew hadn’t even been aware Morpheus knew what computers were.

Some of the other dreams snickered.

“Hey!” Matthew squawked. “This is serious. You’re aware he’s dating a human, right? If breakups were bad, how do you think that will end?”

The collected dreams were silent.

“Eternal night!” Matthew yelled. “Doom and gloom! Tartarus in the depths of Hell! Thunder and lightning very very frightening! Do you want that? I don’t!”

“What are we supposed to do, though?” asked the little mouse dream. “Humans always die.”

“I don’t know yet, that’s why we’re here,” said Matthew, flapping his wings in agitation. “Um. Make an ark for when the Dreaming becomes Water World, maybe? Or uh. Clone Hob? No, that’s weird… Maybe we can get him an emotional support cat or something?”

“Mervyn says Hob is already an emotional support human,” whistled a dream that looked like, and was the size of, an entire forest.

“Fuck.”

“If he’s sad,” sang a music-box dream in its childlike voice, “maybe we should cheer him up!”

Matthew snorted. “How are supposed to cheer up Mister Emo King himself?”

The music-box trilled. “Everybody likes music!”

“And puppies!” yapped a Labrador Retriever.

“Sparkles?” said a dream that was just a floating star.

Matthew was feeling extremely dubious about any of these things being able to cheer up the most gothic depressed person he’d ever met, but it was going to have to do.

“Alright, guys,” he announced, clapping his wings, “here’s the plan. You all have to try to make Lord Morpheus as happy as possible so he won’t go fucking berserk when his human dies. But! Be subtle. Don’t let him know what you’re doing. And for the love of all that is holy Do. Not. Mention. The. H. Word.”

“Hell?” said a toddler dream, scratching her nose.

“No!!! Hob!!!” Matthew scrubbed a wing over his beak. “We’re all gonna fucking die.”

#operation cheer up your mopey friendless boss so he doesn't destroy the world #doesnt go exactly to plan #matthew the raven #the sandman #dreamling #(they come in later) #my writing

[dangermousie]

My favorite non-danmei web novels

Since some of you were interested, I decided to make this list. It’s in an alphabetical order since to figure out which I like more than the other is too hard. I have either finished all of these or enough to have an opinion. 

1000 Miles of Bright Moonlight - one of my ultimate favorites, this would make such an epic drama! A smart as hell heroine, a hero who is a monk and a warrior (but also terminally?) ill and such a vivid world and amazing secondary characters (heroine’s brother is possibly my favorite supporting character of all time) and so much angst and happy ending. This has an amazing romance but it’s not romance-centric if it makes sense - ML doesn’t appear for a while. But once he does, it’s worth it!

Apocalypse Arrival - Gong Xinwen’s novels are made just for me. Her heroines are always powerful as fuck and rescue abused MLs. In this novel, our heroine who lives in the post-apocalyptic world, wakes up right before that apocalypse happens. She forms a survival crew and also rescues ML who has miraculous blood and has been drained of it and is now hunted after the rescue for it. SO GOOD!!!

The Blue Whisper - the drama was so-so, but the novel is a bona fide angst masterpiece, which really delves into what it feels like to be imprisoned or to love.

Black Moonlight Holds the BE Script - so fucked up, so good, with monster hero who learns to love and be human and heroine who learns to love and be human (but from the other side, her tower of perfection.) Much better than the drama.

Chang’an’s Greatest Beauty - a starkly realistic look at what happens to a beautiful period woman with no options. She becomes an outside mistress of a powerful aristocrat who she loathes. The delight is when ML, who barely thinks of others as human, falls in love with her and realizes she does not care about him and descends into regret and despair.

Chang Feng Du - reading it right now. Amazing ML and FL who grow together, clever plot, arranged marriage to love etc etc. Oh, and one point he feeds her his blood to keep her alive, what’s not to love?

Dandere General and His Lord - hi there, Gong Xinwen! God, I love this one. Heroine transmigrates from modern world into a brutal slaveholding world at war (think something like Warring States era.) Our heroine transmigrates into the body of a noblewoman who just hung herself. When she comes to, she discovers that woman’s twin brother was the ruler of a city poisoned by a rival claimant and the besieging army of said claimant is about to take the city and original occupant of the body and the rest of the family chose suicide as a way to avoid dishonor. Our heroine refuses, schemes with advisors to pass as the brother and rally the troops. Once the invaders are defeated, she keeps on the masquerade and rides off to one of the never-ending wars “she” is summoned to. Our hero couldn’t be farther from this. A slave and a son of a slave, he’s escaped a horrific, starving childhood during which he narrowly avoided being murdered or raped, and ended up in the army. When the story opens, he distinguished himself in battle and as a reward, he and a few of his fellow slave warriors are invited to a banquet, where they are given some alcohol and to be playthings of any nobles who want them. One of them does not survive this but ML is lucky - heroine feels terrible and so “claims” him for herself. Instead she just tends to his wounds and sends him back. She does not fancy him or anything, she is just a human being with a conscience. And the story goes from there.

Doomed to Be Cannon Fodder - I hesitated to put this one on the list because by the end I was not keen on how misogynistic novel got to original female lead but it was one of my earliest novels and I loved it for 90% and it’s fucking hilarious at times. Heroine transmigrates as bit villainess into a novel, all she wants is not to die, but her new attitude of “pls stay away” catches the attention of her terrifying general husband. Honestly, imo still worth it.

Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir - my n1 novel on this list, smart and fierce and don’t really read this for romance because it does not start until really late, but ice cold heroine x ice cold hero both of equal brains and ruthlessness is everything. I went from loathing the ML to finding him fascinating to adoring him (and yet he softened around the edges only for FL, he never became “nice”) and loved FL throughout; secondaries are epic. If you read only one non-danmei web novel, make it this one.

The Emperor’s Beloved Ugly Girl - my n2 novel on this list. Our heroine is the unlucky laundry maid A’Chou. She is a di daughter of an upperclass family but her family got destroyed in one of the political upheavals of the time and A’Chou, only a small child at the time, was the only survivor and was made an enslaved laundry maid. Due to various events, at the start of the novel she is a laundry maid in a minister’s household and the minister’s beloved daughter is having a fit because she’s supposed to marry the former Crown Prince which may have been great a few years back but Crown Prince had since been deposed, tortured, imprisoned and now is living in the middle of nowhere under conditions that are too meager to be called house arrest. And he’s seriously crippled too. Understandably, the young lady doesn’t want to marry him! She’d rather kill herself and so she does. And so, a desperate plan is hatched - why don’t we pretend the laundry maid is the di daughter of the minister’s household and send her off? And so A’Chu is sent as the bride. She arrives to discover a broke, seriously injured man on the verge of death...and we go from there. This is so gorgeous and tender and slow in just the right way and like AAAAAA! Secondary OTPs (one of which is MM) are also epic.

Futu Tower - the drama was terrible but the novel is such a lovely, dark exploration of coming back to life, for the ML from his dark revenge-strewn path and for heroine from not being allowed wishes of her own. She is a tribute bride, he’s a (fake) eunuch, they are both servants who use themselves to achieve goals and find peace and happiness together.

Heroine Saves a Gentleman - Gong Xinwen novel so we have a tough martial artist lady saving a very upper class scholar and it goes from there.

Husband Be a Gentleman - schemer meet schemer. He’s an idle prince she’s perfect daughter, in reality both are wolves out for blood. Mmmm.

I’ll Be the Male Lead’s Sister in Law - one of my all time favorite novels. Heroine is made to marry a disabled nephew of the emperor. He used to be a victorious god of war but went mad and now is basically locked away and kept as a beast. GOD I LOVE THIS NOVEL SO MUCHHHHH! So much hurt/comfort and awesome OTP and after he eventually recovers, all he wants to do is to fight and murder things and dote on wifey. MMM. He’s honestly one of my fave MLs.

I Married a Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating - if you have a Florence Nightingale complex, this is for you. Heroine wakes up as tribute bride to an almost dead dragon lord and slowly nurses him back to life as his rivals try to murder him. They are both utter adorable babies!

Joy of Life - there is NO romance in this one (ML is polygamous) but this is such a smart, snarky delight.

Let the Villain Go - another Gong Xinwen novel, this and Apocalypse Arrivals are AUs of each other. Heroine is surviving in the apocalypse, ML is the “bugbear” of the world but in reality just reacting to all abuse and torture and after she accidentally saves him, devotes himself. Fun fun fun!

Love In Another Life: My Gentle Tyrant - so so fucked up in the best way! ML cannot live with OR without heroine. It opens on them banging in jail night before her execution (ordered by him) with corpses of men he killed for trying to defile her cooling nearby. If you want healthy relationships with respectful boundaries, gentle and considerate male leads who are modern men in period clothes, OP heroines who have everyone help them and are OP to the max, fluff and wholesomeness, that is about the worst book for you.If you want complexity, dysfunction, darkness, pain and an absolutely lyrical even if fucked up story, come right IN!!!!I am so fucking in love with the melancholy heroine, with ruthless psycho hero and the endless regret and devotion and paaaaain!

Nightfall (Ever Night) - so long but also so smart and unusual and bloody and tho it’s not primarily a romance, you will never see another ML who loves his FL as much as Ning Que does his Sang Sang. 

Princess Agents - dark as fuck, with the best slow burn and heroine who kicks metric tons of ass.

The Rebirth of the Malicious Empress of Military Lineage - this is probably the one “typical” novel on this list, heroine is reborn as her youngest self and gets revenge on those who wronged her last time around. It is really really well-written and heroine is competent, hero is doting and powerful etc. It’s not a trope I tend to love but I do when it’s done THIS well.

Rebirth of the Tyrant’s Pet: Regent Prince is Too Fierce: Borgias cnovel style! Our heroine was empress in last life and put her husband on the throne tho he did not love her. However, he had her executed and had his half-brother carry out the orders and heroine died horrifically. She opens her eyes and she’s a little girl again. The OTP this time around is heroine and half-brother executioner. Why do I love it? Heroine is smart and tough but also this is a rare rebirth novel where heroine does NOT decide to seek revenge for past life wrongs because they haven’t happened yet! In fact, she sees ML abused and stands up for him because he’s a kid and no kid should be mistreated and this go around he hasn’t done anything wrong. She also gets and likes her former life husband. Anyway, this is fakecest galore because she’s supposed to be their half-sister and while she knows (from past life) she is not, they do not and fall for her anyway. ML is especially gonzo, at one point carving chunks of his flesh to save her. He’s feral and unhinged and she’s the one person he worships because she protected him and like - it’s all awesome. (I love secondary ML too.)

Reborn to Love Lord Qiansui - yes, this is a eunuch novel! If you like gender tropes reversals, this one is for you. Heroine is a tough martial artist, hero is a smart as hell and powerful eunuch. A real eunuch. Heroine finds out she owes him her life and decides to protect him. This is a total delight and an awesome love story between two really scarred people. And yes, there is sex - heroine literally reads manuals on pegging :P

Return of the Swallow - so freaking long! But really good. Heroine is neither transmigrator nor reincarnator, just a smart period woman. She is a lost family daughter taken back in. Her father is a minister in a dying empire (father-daughter relationship is one of the best things in this novel), her OTP is enemy general, and the smartness and the awesomeness of this all knows no bounds.

Revenge of the Cannon Fodder Chambermaid - I remember starting this and loving the realistic feel and the heroine and wanting to stab the hero and @mercipourleslivres telling me to be patient. She was right, by the end I was on board with both the hero (who was abused and is rather autistic-coded) and the OTP. Anyway, heroine is a servant who was a concubine in the last life and got killed as part of a rich family’s harem intrigues. In this life, she just wants to keep her head down but her life gets derailed anyway. She gets sold away and eventually made a servant in the household of an exiled prince who takes a fancy to her and she endures it because what choice does she have? All she wanted was to serve out her term and become a small time merchant. This is quite realistic about lack of options for women, especially lower class women or upper class male attitudes (ML is never vicious or mean to FL but it does not initially occur to him to wonder if she fancies him or enjoys being his concubine or w/e.) It is a DELIGHTFUL slow burn tho as they grow to love each other and grow together and become one of the most wholesome cnovel couples out there.

To Be a Virtuous Wife - some people prefer 8 treasures trousseau but I never warmed up to that one. This one is so good, with smart people (who actually enjoy sex, a ratity) and a perfect mix of plot and romance.

Transmigrator Meets Reincarnator - my very first web novel. A lot lighter than a lot of the ones on this list but a total delight. Heroine transmigrates into a novel as the heroine; she has no interest in drama or chasing true love, she just wants to live a nice life with her nice husband. Too bad for her, her husband has reincarnated into his younger self and remembers how she betrayed him, so is not interested. This one is funny and light and romance doesn’t start till late on but a total delight!

The Yandere Came During the Night - a bit of fluff that’s oddly delightful. Heroine is reborn as a (fake) sister of ML, she hurts her legs saving him and the “siblings” form a bond that ends up in fakecest delight. They are both smart and efficient and he becomes a sexy marquis etc.

#cnovel #the yandere came during the night #to be a virtuous wife #transmigrator meets reincarnator #so I married a disabled tyrant after transmigrating #chang feng du #the emperor's beloved ugly girl #ever night #nightfall #joy of life #Revenge of the Cannon Fodder Chambermaid #Reborn to Love Lord Qiansui #return of the swallow #doomed to be cannon fodder #i'll be the male lead's sister in law #Rebirth of the Tyrant’s Pet: Regent Prince is Too Fierce #The Rebirth of the Malicious Empress of Military Lineage #princess agents #Love In Another Life: My Gentle Tyrant #let the villain go #apocalypse arrival #husband be a gentleman #heroine saves a gentleman #futu tower #Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir #dangere general and his lord #Chang’an’s Greatest Beauty #black moonlight holds the be script #the blue whisper #1000 miles of bright moonlight