#I have so many feelings about the millennium kiss

[thursdayinspace]

I love the Millennium kiss for the way it is so gentle and happy and calm. There is no urgency behind it, it’s not a revelation, it’s not suddenly being hit with bottled-up feelings.

He looks at her and he loves her, utterly and completely. He doesn’t see the point of putting any walls up in this moment. He lets himself feel it because . . . because it’s what he’s feeling. There’s no “Oh god, I have to kiss her.” It’s: consequences be damned, this is the woman he loves and she’s right there next to him and his heart no longer sees the point of not doing this.

And she welcomes it so easily. There is barely a moment of surprise on her face. She’s ready. This is what they have always been to each other and there is no hesitation, no moment of “Okay, so this is happening now.” It just is. She has loved him for so long and in her heart she already knows that there’s no use denying it. If he leans in for a kiss, then yes, she’s going to kiss him back.

I love the way this kiss is done – the way all the sounds of the new year’s celebration fade into the background and the camera narrows the world down to only them, like nothing else exists. It captures the gentle energy of the moment so nicely. Because what has prevented them from doing this has always mostly been external factors, private and professional, but not emotional. But there are none here. They’re literally being faded out. It’s just them. It’s honestly perfectly done. Including the acting; you see them giving in to the moment, and I especially love the change of her smile after the kiss, going from “wow, this really happened,” to “did this really just happen?” It’s art. Everything about it.

This moment is not about being in love, it’s about loving each other. There is a difference. There is none of the fluttery excitement about being in love, the elation of it, the fantasy of what could be, the need, the straining towards each other. This is not their hearts jumping in their chests, their breaths hitching, their palms tingling with the need to reach out. This is quiet and soft. They already know. This is not “I need you like I need air,” this is not “I think of you every second of every day and miss you like crazy when I don’t see you for more than an hour.” This is “Did you know that I love you? Because I do.” This is “Nothing feels more right than being here with you right now.” This is exactly what they say to each other after the kiss: “The world didn’t end.” “No, it didn’t.”

It is not a storm. It’s the atmosphere of a gentle summer evening, nowhere to be but with each other. Life goes on, and it still will if they allow themselves to kiss, to admit that this is what they’ve wanted all along. Maybe, in a way, it is a revelation after all. It’s realizing that there’s no point in pretending.

They are truly happy in this moment. There is no doubt, there is no question about anything. This is who they are. This is pure and unfaltering love. Quiet, calm; the only motivation being that they want to. And that is what makes it so good: the only reason for it being “I can’t not tell you that this is the way I love you.” Of all their kisses, this is the happiest one. Their walls are down, and the world didn’t end.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Forgetting

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.

Words: 2700

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 

Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 

Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 

“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 

A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”

Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”

“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 

Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 

“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.

Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and–”

Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”

“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”

“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”

“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”

“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”

Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” 

No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 

For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 

However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 

—

You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 

He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 

“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”

You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.

Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 

Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 

“It’s Thursday, Jake.”

“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”

“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”

Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.

“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”

You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”

You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”

“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And I mean less.”

“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”

“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”

With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.

“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”

His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 

“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”

It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 

“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.

“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”

Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 

You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 

Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”

He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”

You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”

With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 

“Can I see it?”

—

It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.

You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.

Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”

When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”

Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”

Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 

“Enough to live with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Enough to live with you.”

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)

[lovifie]

Angst | 1023 words | Back to Masterlist

Immortal!Ghost x Reader that always comes back

The first time they met, they grew up together. Neighbours on their little village, since they met Simon felt this attraction towards her. Every second of the day, his mind was flooded with her.

She didn't feel it. A new soul, too anxious to experience, too eager to see, too impatient to learn.

In her first life, she died young, a tragic death that the whole village mourned. A young woman who curiously travelled inside the forest ignoring the threats behind the tree line.

Simon took it the hardest, they were supposed to go there together, but they argued about something so silly, and he stayed home while she perished.

But he never forgot her. And when he grew up, a grown man, travelling to close villages for his business, he felt the attraction again. Feeling mad at himself for breaking your trust, he waited for the woman to turn, as if ready to fault you for his reaction.

But he came face to face with you. Again. After so many years, there you were. He could feel the tears prick at his eyes, teasing to fall; and he felt as if he had been punched on his lungs the moment you looked back at him.

To Simon, he was looking at his old love, the one that never returned said love, that he lost so long ago. But to you, an older man, crying, was looking at you. So you quickly run back to your house, away from him.

Simon doesn't remember much of your second life, there are so many that blend together, at least those on which you didn't love him back. He hates those the most when he had to live through centuries of looking for you, finding you, watching you fall in love with somebody else and then, as always, die.

But sometimes, there are lives in which you would look back at him, with so much love in your eyes. Not as much as Simon, that would be impossible, Simon had a millennium's worth of love saved up inside his heart and you barely had a decade or two; still, you came second to the competition.

At some point, he stopped ageing, or at least it slowed down to the point it seems he stopped. He was relieved he did, keeping his image of 30-something Simon Riley. But it still added pressure to him; now on top of having to find you, there were lives where he needed to stay in the shadows, waiting for the woman he knew you were going to grow up to be.

He was patient, he needed to be, and he didn't mind waiting. At least, in those lives where you were not together, you keep meeting death at a young age. Always involving yourself with dangerous people or just plain old stupid. Not in the lives you were with him, you always died peacefully of old age in the lives you stayed together, impressed with how young he looked, and with him taking care of you until your last breath.

Having lived so many lives, some memories blend into each other and some simply get forgotten, but there are some he remembers as if they just happened.

Like when you first kissed him, or when you first said you loved him, when he first held you at night or when he almost messed it up once.

He thought you were ready to know the truth, that he knew you from many lives ago, that he was immortal and that you have died so many times he couldn't keep count. You almost left your home that night, only stopping after hearing him:

"Wait, you thought I was serious?" Simon laughed. "That's crazy, love. I was just playing, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He never tried it again.

In any of your lives did you have kids, he was selfish enough to keep you only for himself. But having a kid, knowing that he would outlive him, and at some point he would disappear to look for you again without being able to give an explanation. It was not the child's fault Simon was a selfish man. But he was patient.

In some lives, you would reappear close. On one live, he found you going out of his house, meeting you next door when you moved into the apartment next to his.

On other ones, you would reappear further away. On some, he wasn't even able to find you. He came face to face with you once when you stayed in Manchester for a while, only being there for work. You didn't even speak English in that life, not to worry, he quickly got to work on learning your language just so he could tell you how much he loved you in a language you would understand.

Now, he could almost speak every single language in the world, not wanting to risk wasting time, even though he was a patient man.

As you were reincarnated again and again, he noticed your personality change. In your earliest lives, you were so energetic, always looking for trouble, getting under his skin, ready to run around the world. As lives went on, you began to be calmer, preferring being a listener rather than a talker.

Simon didn't mind, of course, you always remained kind, gentle and as lovely as in your first life.

Simon was a patient man, he had waited for you so many many lives. Always finding you, always meeting you. You always came back.

You are taking your time on this occasion, but he doesn't worry. He is a patient man.

The original attraction is slowly growing weaker as time goes on, but he doesn't worry. You always come back.

He is starting to forget the last time he saw you, but he doesn't worry. He is a patient man.

You usually only take a couple of decades to come back, but this time is growing closer to a century. But he doesn't worry, you always come back.

Simon Riley is a patient man. And you have always come back.

[selarina]

Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

Content Warnings: oral sex(f!receiving), exhibitionism Minors DNI

You’re resting your back uncomfortably against the bed. Your hair was mussed and your eyes droopy. Shoko almost feels bad for waking you up, but business is business.

“Hey,” Shoko walks in, a shadow against the faint moonlight seeping through the curtains. “Have you seen Satoru around?”

“Nope,” your voice, parched as your throat was, comes out hoarse and high pitched as you reshuffle the thick blanket over your legs. “Why would I know where he is?”

“Well,” she ventured as her fingers grazed the slope of her nose. “You two have been hanging out a lot recently.”

“We’ve all been hanging out a lot recently,” you murmured.

“Right,” she said, a hesitant nod punctuating her response. “In any case, if you do see him — tell him Yaga wants to see him sometime today. So he needs to stop ignoring him and answer his phone.”

"Understood," you managed, just about muffling a yelp.

“Also,” she say, contemplatively. You wish she would just leave soon. It was your fault for prolonging the conversation this far in the first place. Why’d you have to ask her questions?

“I’m only saying this because I don’t think I'll live long enough to see this play out but I’m pretty sure Satoru is in love with you.”

Your form stills, eyes widening, as a myriad of questions wait on the edge of your lips, waiting to just tremble their way right out. How do you know? How long have you known? Why? Did he tell you? Why?

But you think there’s no point if the man will refute the accusation just as quickly as they slipped out of her mouth.

“Make of that what you will,” she concluded plainly as she made her exit.

At the sound of the door hitting close, the weight beneath you starts to shuffle, causing you to let out a soft repressed moan.

"Satoru," you whimpered. "How can you just continue—"

“Weren’t you just begging me to make you come?” He looks up, his eyes alight, his lips glistening with the residue of spit and come.

"I never— Ugh. Did you not hear what she just said?"

“What about it?” he inquired, nonchalant, as he continued his ministrations unabated, peppering soft kisses ticklish kisses onto your stomach and your thighs.

You stared back, incredulous as he goes on and on, licking into your cunt. And he’s messy with it too, despite your many protests.

He never half asses sex, he had exclaimed with a grin, to which you often retorted — I wish you wouldn’t half ass the fucking dishes. You found an odd sense of joy in saying that, you thought you sounded like one of those old married couples, like you knew him for a millenniums.

“What do you mean ‘What about it’?” you asked, though the words trembled as you spoke. Were you even prepared to face the end of his response? "Are you...?"

“Am I what?” He looks back up again, his eyes a bit hazy as his hand comes up to wipe his lips.

His eyes flip back to your face, maintaining eye contact. “In love with me?” you ask, and it comes out as a mere whisper.

His response arrives swiftly, devoid of any hesitation. "Of course," he affirms, “You think I like to cut my sleep short just to put you to sleep?”

Your eyes go wide, gulping you speak up. “Yes... ?”

“No, stupid," he chides, his fingers reaching to pinch your thighs, eliciting a muted yelp from you.

He looks back at you now, his eyes droopy and low, his lips curved into a soft smile and his face beautiful, like the moon. He says, "I love you.”

"Really?"

"Yes, really," he chuckles. "Now, do you want to come or not?”

"Uh, yes. Please," you smile. "And Satoru..."

He hums, holding your gaze with an intensity that had been missing for as long as you knew him. And so, you say, "I love you too."

“I love you,” he repeats, and you think the more he says it, the more you can believe him.

[whimsyfinny]

He's a Winchester

Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, mention of toxic parenting/custody battle, angst, alcohol,

Chapter Word Count: 3471

MDNI 18+

A/N: here it is! I’m not gonna lie, this is going to be very slow burn at first, but don’t worry, you know me and you know how much juicy content I write so it’s definitely coming hahaha. I’m also trying to figure out a schedule for posting this, so hopefully I can upload two chapters a week.

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out. 

Photos from Pinterest

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I reached for the bottle of wine for the third time in the last hour and a half. I was sitting with Kat, pyjamas adorned, in the living room of mine and Levi's modest two bedroom house. For financial (and personal) reasons, our little house didn't follow current trends and looked more like something out of a popular 90s sitcom. The couch was comfy, the blankets were fuzzy, and a fresh pot of coffee was always brewing. Pictures embellished the walls of every milestone Levi had achieved; every birthday party, every new dirt bike, every new hairstyle. There were a few of Kat and I from over the years, going way back to when we first met back in ‘99 and both decided to rock platform heels on at the turn of the millennium - having tiny babies at the time didn't seem to stop us. Every single moment on these walls was a happy memory - something that I would treasure forever, yet there was something missing. There were no photos - or perhaps a scarce few - of my own parents, or of them with Levi, or of any extended family for that matter. The price I paid when I decided to have my son out of wedlock, at barely twenty years old, with a man who my family saw as a total stranger, is a price I'd pay every time in a heartbeat. Kat and Toby were our family now, and that was more than I could ever ask for. That was why the sheer possibility of Levi getting to meet his dad for the first time in, well, ever… it had my mind spinning. It was a scenario I'd dreamt of, late at night when I couldn't sleep and the burdens of life weighed me down. I conjured false memories in my minds eye of the pair of them fixing his bike on the drive or driving to school in the impala. I pictured us having breakfast together as a family and taking trips to the movies. Being together. Because no matter how many dates I went on, or how many frogs I’d kissed over the years, none of them were Levi's father.

None of them were Dean Winchester.

“Girl you have to reach out to him,” Kat walked in from the adjacent kitchen before slumping on the couch next to me, wine glass elevated to reduce spillage.

“Kat I could barely look at him today without feeling like I was going to have a heart attack - how the fuck am I supposed to talk to him?” I glanced at her with wide eyes, every nerve in my body on edge despite the wine and scented candles. Kat sighed. 

“You might never get this opportunity again, and we both know that if you don’t give Levi the opportunity to meet his father then you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” I held my breath, urging the raging storm in my mind to quiet down before letting the air gush from my lungs.

“Yeah I know. I just…I just never thought that this would actually happen, you know? I never thought that Dean would show up here. I figured Levi would eventually track him down when he was old enough to make that decision on his own. I have no idea how to even approach this.”

“Sure you do!” Kat beamed, a wicked glint in her eye, “you sit him down and say, ‘Hey Dean! Remember when we had sex in the back of that amazing car of yours nine years ago? Well, actions have consequences, and yours in eight years old and sitting in his science class right now.’”

I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face and I cackled when the bit of popcorn I threw landed in her wine glass.

“Bitch.”

I blew her a kiss in response to her insult. It didn’t take long though for the distraction to run its course and for my mind to return to its state of panic.

“But seriously, what am I going to say to him? What if I tell him, and he rejects us too, like my family did?”

Her smile softened.

“From everything that you’ve told me about that man, I highly doubt he’s going to reject you. Sure, he might not stick around permanently, but he sounds like the kind of guy that would stay in touch,” her softened smile turned to a stern stare, “but he’s only going to do that if he knows. He deserves to know he has a son.”

I took a long gulp of my wine. 

“Yeah, I’m going to tell him…” I paused, gnawing my bottom lip as I drew my knees to my chest, “it’s Saturday tomorrow so I’m not at work and Levi has two hours at the track. I can try to do it tomorrow, but I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to track Dean down in that time - I have no idea where he could be.”

“Hey, I’ll pick up Levi from Motocross - it’s been a few days since him and Toby have spent any proper time together anyway, just them two. Tobes’ has been dying to show him those brand new boots of his.”

We shared a smile. That’s the thing about Kat; she always had my back, no matter the situation.

“Thanks babes, I owe you one.”

She shook her head.

“No way - this is me returning the favour from when Toby’s dad decided to show an interest in his own child. I’m pretty sure my kid thought you were adopting him at one point from how much he stayed here,” I laughed, remembering the camp bed I bought especially for Toby, along with all the extra duvet sets and boxes of cereal I’d had to purchase for the best part of half a year.

“He’s a good kid, and honestly he and Levi entertained themselves for most of it.”

There was another pause in the conversation as I recounted how difficult it had been for Kat when David had shown up, insisting on being a part of Tobys life despite zero contact since his son was born. They’d argued over custody, over which school he went to, the clubs he attended. Even his hobbies were on the line, with David wanting him to play football despite Toby already being involved down at the track with the bikes. The stress caused Kat to lose weight and sleep, and she nearly lost her job over it all when she kept falling asleep at her desk. I’d lost count of how many times she’d cried in my arms. Cried over a man who thought that practically owning his son was his God given right despite being an absent father, and I think that is what scared me the most. That I would feel the same wretched things that she felt, and the waves of disappointment that crashed over her time and time again when false promises were made. It took her months to settle on an agreement due to David's behaviour, and Toby finally sees his father, albeit only for one weekend a month. It's better than nothing, but certainly not worth the fight that was fought with blood, sweat and tears. 

I hope from the bottom of my heart that Dean takes the news well, and doesn't leave us in the dust like he does in my worst nightmares.

It had taken me around thirty minutes to track down Dean. Well, to at least find the impala. It's common knowledge that if you find that car, Dean isn't far away. I’d parked my truck two spaces down, and luckily we were within walking distance of my favourite café, Jolenes’. It was my safe space. The place that I would finally tell him about Levi.

I pulled the sleeves of my soft cardigan down over my hands to stop myself from chewing nervously on my nails. Leaving the safety of my truck, I paced over to the black Chevy and stood by it, determined to speak to Dean as soon as possible. I knew that if I had stayed sitting behind my own wheel, there was a huge chance that I'd chicken out and just drive away. As I waited I checked over the car in front of me, admiring how he still kept it spotless after all these years. Unable to stop myself, I let my gaze drift over to the backseat, the events that unfurled on the soft leather racing to mind. I pulled my lip between my teeth, unable to resist the replay of memories.

“You have good taste in cars.”

I practically launched out my skin as the voice came from behind me. I could hear the amusement in his voice from a few feet away. I spun on my heel and our eyes locked, the charming grin slipping slightly from Deans’ lips when he realised it was me. The playfulness in his features quickly softened, a true, genuine smile now gracing his lips.

“Dean…” I suddenly felt breathless, but despite my nerves I returned his smile in kind.

“It's good to see you (Y/n),” he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, enveloping me in his entirety. I closed my eyes as I hugged him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and taking a deep breath, my brain tingling at his familiar scent.

“You too, Dean. It's been too long.”

After a moment we released each other and Dean stood up straight, smiling at me again with a soft twinkle in his eye. We both flinched slightly when someone cleared their throat and he took a step back. 

“Oh, uh, (Y/n), this is Sam, my younger brother,” he patted the shoulder of the young man standing beside him, and I instantly recognised him from the dessert parlour. He was tall, taller than Dean even, which was one hell of an accomplishment, and his face held a similar boyish charm to Deans. Yet he looked softer around the edges, like he hadn't been hardened by life too much yet.

“It's a pleasure, I'm (Y/n). I've known you're brother for a while,” I smiled as I shook his hand, taking note of the rough calluses beginning to form on his palms. “He used to talk about you all the time, apparently you're the smart one of the family,” with a grin and a quick glance at Dean, I tested the waters with humour. If he laughed or took the blow like a champ, now was a good time to talk to him. Sam chuckled, squeezing my hand slightly in his before letting it go. 

“Ouch… (Y/n), sweetheart, aren't you supposed to be on my side here? Y’know, with our history and all…?” he feigned hurt with a hand on his chest before his lips twitched up and he shot me a wink.

“I mean… she's not wrong,” Sam laughed, dropping his hands lazily into his pockets.

“Hey, I'm just going on what you told me, Dean. Don't hold that against me,” I grinned at them both, unsure of what to do with my hands so I crossed them across my chest.

A small breath of silence passed between us, Deans’ gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me want to look away. I didn't. Sam cleared his throat again, clapping his hand to Deans’ shoulder before taking a step back.

“I'll, uh, give you guys a few minutes,” and with an appreciative nod from Dean, Sam gave us some space. With his younger brother gone, my heart began to flutter in my chest. The time to break the news was getting closer, and my nerves were on edge. On fire.

“So,” he started, taking a step closer with a deep breath, “how's it going? How long has it been?”

“Nine years,” I was almost too hot on the mark, my words coming out faster than I'd intended and Dean blinked slightly. I sighed, looking down. “There's been a lot going on, and honestly, I've really needed you at times. You're a hard man to find Dean Winchester.” 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” his brows pinched apologetically and he reached for my hand, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I took a deep breath and met his gaze again.

“Do you… do you have some time? I need to talk to you. It's important, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I'll get another chance.” 

He nodded slowly, giving my hand a squeeze, releasing it hesitantly with a slight wince to his features.

“Uh oh,” he said, “am I in trouble?”

I laughed, the sound light off my chest.

“Oh Dean,” I reached up to touch his face, and his instinctive reaction was to lean into my palm, “you don't know the half of it.” 

The walk to the café had been pleasant. We chatted about what we'd been up to since we last met - Dean revealing he was still in the same line of work and had travelled around a lot, never really settling down. There was something about that nugget of information that made my stomach twist in knots. He learnt I was still a receptionist, this time at the local garage  instead of the large dealership I had scored before. He asked why I'd changed, to go to something smaller, lesser, and my silence urged him to wait until we were at our destination. He knew I was anxious, and he did his best to keep conversation light and breezy until the time was right. To an untrained eye he was unphased, yet I could tell from the lip nibbling and flitting gaze that he was nervous too.

Do you think he's already guessed it?

The bell jingled as we walked in, the two baristas looking up and instantly greeting me with a wave and a smile.

“Hey (Y/n)! Your couch is free,” the first barista, a young man around my age with soft blond curls waved to me across the counter, his brilliant grin making me smile with a comforting familiarity. “Your usual?”

“Yes please! Thanks, Jake,” I returned the friendliness, stepping around the tables until we arrived at my favourite spot.

“And for your… date?” He gestured to Dean, who was now shrugging off his leather jacket, “what can I get for you pal?” 

Dean hesitated, before just holding his hands up.

“Uhhh, I don't know, I guess I'll have what she's having.”

With our hot beverages on their way, I sat down in my usual nook in the corner whilst Dean sat down opposite, in that same plush armchair that Kat had sat in yesterday. Where Kat had been swallowed by the chair and its all-consuming cushions, Dean had the opposite effect. He made the chair look small under his broad form, like it was made for a child. There were a few moments of silence, neither of us really knowing where to start. So I bit the bullet.

“Dean… before I tell you anything, just know that I've been trying to get hold of you on and off for years. Your number always seemed to go to voicemail and I never got a call back. So please just… know I tried.” 

I looked up and he was totally engaged, already hanging off every word I said as he leant forward, his elbows on his knees. Our attention pulled away from each other briefly as our coffees arrived, hand delivered by the second barista - a woman a few years older than myself with a jet black pixie cut.

“Thanks Emily, you're an angel,” I grasped the mug before she even had a chance to put it on the table and clutched it in my lap, letting the warmth seep through my palms to help soothe my nerves. 

“No worries babes, you two have fun,” she looked between Dean and me with a playful smirk, throwing me a wink before she turned around. 

Great, the gossip starts now.

I turned back to Dean who was now sitting on the edge of his seat. I took a deep breath.

Do it now.

“Dean, I have a son.”

I watched his face twitch slightly, almost like it dropped in disappointment, however it was so fleeting across his features that it was hard to tell. He pulled a strained smile onto his lips.

“(Y/n) that's great, I'm happy for you,” he looked down at his boots briefly, choosing his next words, “I guess this is you telling me to stay away, huh? Now that you have a family and all. It's ok, I get it.”

I shook my head, placing my cup on the table so I could pull myself to sit on the edge of the couch, almost mirroring Dean.

“No, no Dean, that's not- look, what I'm saying is…” another deep breath, “you, have a son.”

I watched his eyes go wide, unsure if he heard me correctly.

“What?” His voice was breathy.

I looked down into my mug for a second, choosing my words. 

“I have a little boy; he's eight, his name is Levi…and he's yours, Dean. He's your son.”

I dared to look up at him, watching his eyes go wider and his mind empty of thoughts. Either that, or his mind is racing so fast that it's left his body on standby. I gave him a few minutes to process the news. Or at least process it the best he could as it would likely be days or weeks before this fully sunk in. Nervousness prickled at my own skin, my worst fears of rejection bubbling to the surface again at his silence. I sighed.

“It’s ok, Dean, I’m not expecting you to-”

He stood abruptly, stepped over the coffee table and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his strong arms around me in a crushing grip. His arms were so tight that it almost winded me, yet I returned his embrace. The feeling of his lips on the top of my head surprised me as he kissed my hair, the sensation warm and comforting. He placed one, two more kisses before he cupped my face in his large hands, his rough palms gentle against my cheeks as I locked eyes with him. The sight was beautiful. The annoyance and exasperation that I expected to be met with was nowhere to be seen, and I saw no shadow of negativity within those evergreen eyes. All I saw was love. Pride. Joy. Excitement. The relief washing over me felt the same as climbing into your nice, warm comfy bed when on the brink of exhaustion. 

“I’m a dad?” his voice cracked slightly whilst his eyes shimmered.

I nodded as a grin erupted across his face, followed by an airy, almost unbelieving chuckle.

“Holy fuck, (Y/n)-”

“You’re not mad?” my voice was quiet.

“What?” Dean looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, “of course not. Why would I be mad?”

“Because it’s been nine years since we last saw each other, and suddenly this woman who you’ve not spoken to in nearly a decade drops the biggest truth bomb on you. A truth bomb  that I know you definitely weren’t expecting,” I try to step back but he pulls me in for another hug, squeezing the air out of me a second time.

“(Y/n), sweetheart, this is the best bit of news I’ve had in a long, long time.”

I smiled into his chest, freeing my arms to wrap them around his neck and pull him down into a hug of my own. We stood for a moment in our embrace as the coffee shop busied around us. I knew this shop and I knew this town and people would soon start to talk, start to try and figure out Dean: like who is he? How does he know (Y/n)? Why are they acting so familiar? Is he trouble? But that was all unimportant rubbish that I would deal with later. Right now, Levis father was here, and he knew. For the first time in my adult life I felt like I wasn’t keeping some devastating secret from an incredible man, and it was like I could breathe again. 

Pulling away from Deans’ bear hug, I tucked the wisps of hair away that had come loose from my claw grip and grinned up at him, reaching for his hand. I held it in mine as I swayed slightly on the spot, like an excited schoolgirl who’d just been asked on her first date. Dean smiled down at me, the sort of smile that shone on top of the world.

“So…” I started, biting my lip slightly.

“Do you want to meet your son?”

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[xozombiee]

nerd | p. parker.

warnings: praise, peter parker’s abs, fingering, marking, kissing, nerd kink😶…, dirty talk?, boring nerd facts

synopsis: peter finds out you’re secretly turned on by his intelligence and uses it against you.

study nights like this weren’t unusual. peter sitting by your side while your sat with your legs crossed next to him. text books were scattered across your bed since he was helping you study for a chemistry quiz that was this friday.

you shut the book with a huff, turning to the boy next to you. “i’m bored.”

peter looks up from his book, “you wanna take a break?” he asks.

you nod in reply, jumping off the bed. you stretch, your shirt rising up in the process which makes the spider boys face turn pink. you smiled, “you hungry? i can make some food real quick.”

“maybe later. we should take a break for a few then get back to studying.” he suggested.

you let out an exasperated whine, falling back into your rolling chair. “whyyyy? i hate studying. it’s so boring.” you argued.

“you said it yourself. you cant fail this test.” he replied. you frowned. “well not everyone is as smart as you, pete.”

“i’m not that smart.”

“yes you are! you have so many awards! and you’re like…awesome at everything!” you told him, making him smile.

“you’re actually so smart…it’s kinda hot.” you grumbled like an old man. peters ears perked at your words.

“hot?”

“yes, it’s hot!” you yelled, spinning the chair away from him.

peter took a moment to think. you were obviously embarrassed about it. so was there was more to the story? he smirked to himself as he thought of an idea.

he stood up from his spot, getting close to your ear, “did you know there’s enough dna in the average persons body to stretch to the sun to pluto and back—seventeen times.” peter whispered.

“seventeen?” you mumbled, turning your head to his.

“yeah. and, the earth has a mass of five point nine seven times ten to the power of twenty four kilograms.” he smiled.

you stared at him, eyes shifting to his lips every two seconds before you finally pulled the collar of his t-shirt. your lips connected. peters hands grabbed your hips, steadying himself above you. you stood from the chair, walking to the bed. lips disconnecting for a breath of air. your hands were pushing the text books onto the floor.

your knees met the mattress, your weight sinking it in as you sat. you wiggled your hips as you crawled across the bed. peter stared at you like you were the millennium falcon lego set you had gotten him for christmas. he was absolutely so in love.

he followed behind you, dragging your hips back to him. you squirmed in surprise, watching peter grin at you. his fingers played with the hem of your shorts and you were practically begging for him to take them off.

“is this okay?” he asked, tugging them to your thighs.

you nodded desperately, making him smile to himself. after taking your shorts off, all to be seen were the cute cotton flower panties you wore underneath them. a small damp patch was covering the middle, making all the blood in peter shoot down his body.

opened mouth kisses were placed along down your torso, “did you know a cloud can weigh about a million pounds.” he said between each kiss.

you felt insane for being turned on by this.

“peter..”you sighed, wrapping a hand in his brown locs.

“baby?” he replied. his eyes stared up at you, watching as you looked as if you were about to faint.

“need you…now.” you whispered. you just want him to stop teasing you and start pleasing you. feeling his breath near your core was driving you insane.

hands trace against the inside of your thighs, sending shivers up your spine. peter pushes the fabric that covered your cunt to the side, putting two fingers inside of you and curling them as he does, making you moan.

“peter.” you barely say below your breath, holding onto his bicep.

“shhh..baby. let me take care of you.” he said against the skin of your collarbone. you whispered in reply.

his kisses were so light against your neck. if you hadn’t known it was him, you would’ve thought a butterfly had landed onto your throat, fluttering peacefully. his trail of kisses moved down to your chest, then eventually to your stomach again.

“pretty girl..my pretty girl.” he muttered.

you cupped your mouth with your hand, muffling the cries of your voice. you couldn’t let your roommate hear, or your other colleagues down in the other dorms.

peter noticed the hand covering your mouth. he took the hand occupying your insides, removing it and pulling yours away.

“don’t get shy on me now.” he pouted.

your legs closed from the loss of touch, hoping for some friction as you rubbed them. peter brought his lips close to your ear, pushing your hair away from your face.

“i know you think about this all the time. it’s so obvious from the way you stare.” he says.

your eyes squeeze shut, “peter, please..”

“please what?”

you get quite at the next part, but thanks to peters enhanced senses he heard what you said clearly. 

“always.” he replied. you watched as he ripped his own shirt off, his abs coming into sight. god he was fine. he pulled back your underwear, watching as it tickled down your thighs.

peter entered slowly, bottoming out. for several moments, the bedroom was silent, apart from your panting. your eyes couldn't leave his figure.

you reached a hand up to push several strands of hair out his eyes. he pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in, making you throw your head back.

fuck you were gorgeous with your head thrown back against the pillow, back arched. it wasn't the first time peter had seen such a sight. hell, he’d even took pictures and videos of it for himself.

"gonna fill you up, pretty." you nodded, the corners of your vision beginning to blur from the intense pleasure. 

you could feel the spark of your insides begin to light, almost as if it was about to go off. you were so close. “peter.”

“yeah?”

“close.”

peter grabbed your hips, adjusting them to his. he picked his pace up, making your brain fuzzy. the circles he was tracing on your clit added to the pleasure he was submerging you in. your fists grabbed the sheets as if they were going to save you from this animal of a man.

You were incoherent as you came, only whines mixed with slurred chants of his name leaving your mouth. peter followed quickly behind you; a whimper leaving his lips.

peter relaxed against you, his head falling against your chest. you laughed softly as his curls tickled your skin. “fuck.” you breathed.

“yeah, fuck.” he grinned.

the two of you laughed, holding each other tightly. the room was soon filled with silence once more. it was comfortable. as always.

“yknow..the world record for the most female orgasms is one hundred and thirty four in one hour. i bet we can beat that.” peter winked.

the room was silent.

a loud cackle was heard from below him, which is where you were laying.

“why the fuck do you know that?”

@xozombiee2022

[thee-horny-thicky]

Tattoos and Tenderness

A/N: So I'm craving another tattoo, and I'm down bad for Sukuna, so I wrote this little one-shot. The reader is fem and described as having a forearm tattoo, but no other descriptions are used!

Sukuna wasn't a tender man. Even when he was as physically close as he could be to another person, plowing into them as he drew out orgasm after orgasm, he wasn't tender. Sex with him was always rough and aggressive, and he only allowed you to come when he was feeling generous.

However, something akin to tenderness blossomed in his chest as he stared at you. Your nude form was resting atop him, your fingers tracing the tattoos running along his chest. Your touch was gentle, ticklish almost.

"Did you have them when you were human?" You asked.

He nodded. "I did, yes. Scared the shit out of my enemies."

And the innocent people that he'd brutalized, but he'd preferred not to discuss such things with you. You knew of his title as the King of Curses but didn't know the things he'd done to warrant it.

Sukuna understood he was a monster. He was proud of it, even, but he didn't want you to view him that way. It was laughable. He didn't want the human girl he'd pursued on a whim to fear him. No, he only wanted your adoration.

"Did it hurt?"

"Like hell," he admitted, recalling the sensation of a wooden needle being driven into his skin thousands of times.

It had taken a ridiculously long time, and he’d been a bloodied mess by the time it was done.

You hummed, then pressed a kiss to the tattooed line above his nipple. A shiver ran through him at the feel of your lips on his skin.

"Did you cry?"

He tsked. "You ask a lot of questions, you know that?"

He might’ve yanked your tongue out if you weren’t so special to him. Instead, he found your inquisitive nature adorable.

You pouted. "I just want to know more about you."

Your word came out whiny, and he couldn't help but smile. It was pathetic, how taken he was with something so weak. You didn’t even have a cursed technique, able to see curses but unable to exorcise them.

"No, I didn't cry, pet," he said, deciding to humor you. "I barely moved. Did you cry when you got yours?"

He held up your wrist, examining the tattoo spanning across your forearm. The design was one of the first things he noticed about you. In his days women didn't dare mar their skin. It was a convention he never questioned until he met you.

You shook your head. "No, but we have tattoo guns. It’s different."

“A needle is a needle, no?”

“No, because an IV is different from a tattoo needle.”

He cocked a brow. “An IV?”

Having been sealed away for a millennium, he wasn’t up to date on all the advances made in the world.

“A needle used to pump medicine into you, old man,” you teased, giggling when he scowled at you. “You are old!”

“Ancient,” he agreed, grabbing ahold of your hips, and flipping you over, so that you were now stationed beneath him. “But you should respect your elders, little one.”

You gasped as he dragged one of his hard cocks along your slit, staring at him through your eyelashes. “Or what?”

He gave you a malice-filled grin, one that left many grown men quivering. You, though, just licked your lips, lust darkening your pretty eyes. You were excited by his roughness, solidifying that you were perfect for him.

 In one swift motion, he thrust into your heat, his cum and the juices from your previous orgasms serving as lubrication. You whimpered as he drove into you. He brought a hand to your throat and applied pressure, being mindful of his strength to not crush your windpipe. You wrapped your hand around his wrist, your grip tightening each time his dick grazed your cervix.  Drool trickled from your mouth, your eyes fluttering close as moans spilled from you.

His movements slowed as he admired your fucked-out expression, and he used one of his hands to brush back a strand of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. You opened your eyes and offered him a smile, which he returned before planting a kiss on top of your head.

Sukuna wasn’t a tender man. Most people who met him could attest to that. Yet, he was willing to make an exception for you.

[cocogum]

Yugo should feel weirded out by Echo.

I am so confused about Echo’s whole deal with Oropo mainly because of what Oropo is supposed to be.

Isn’t she aware that he looks like Yugo??? So many people around her say that he does, even Yugo said the same thing to Adamaï back when they were both stuck in the Inglorium.

Like if people around Echo keep saying that he looks like a copy-paste, then she should be able to know the similarities too. There’s no way she couldn’t have been aware cuz she’s been with Oropo the longest and was practically his diary for all these millenniums.

And here’s why it bothers me so much.

SHE SHOULD KNOW.

The fact that she and him have been in a relationship too is extremely odd cuz she KNOWS she’s essentially screwing with one of Yugo’s alter egos….

It’s obvious that Oropo and her have done things….cuz like…the bed scene in Season 3 implied it.

So…yeah.

I wish Echo could’ve talked to Yugo at least once in Season 3 but the two never interacted. The only two instances where they’ve been somewhat in the same scene were when Eva had given birth to Pin and when they both saw Oropo and Amalia kissing. So even if they were in the same place at the same time, these two never even spoke to each other let alone glanced at one another.

Like I really want Yugo to be weirded out by this lol. To know that a random eniripsa demigoddess has been screwing with one of his copies.

Oropo even says these in S4 EP1: “Here you are, whole again.” And “We are a part of you.”

So when I say Echo has been plowing a part of Yugo this whole time, I’m not exaggerating. She was literally doing that.

Also here’s another thing, when Yugo had finally accepted the eliotropes to be parts of himself, that meant he was able to see what their lives had been like, to know who they were, and what they’d gone through. So wouldn’t that technically mean that he also saw memories of Oropo with Echo? We did see how Yugo got a glimpse of Oropo and Echo’s kiss right before the bomb exploded so that would imply Yugo saw everything.

How does he feel? Isn’t he weirded out???

I get that Season 4 didn’t have everything explained because of the damn budget but even if they did have it, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ankama wouldn’t dig deeper into this.

It’s just completely random to think about but it still exists. It’s still something that Yugo can think about, reflect on, and try to process what he just understood.

Toross is one thing to have been harassed by but being indirectly harassed by a demigoddess eniripsa is another thing entirely.

Bro technically got jumped by two divinities help-

Like no shade on Echo but girl what are you doing.

Like just picture this and pretend the same thing happened to you:

You’re 21 years old but you came to find out that not only did you accidentally create a whole race entirely composed of fragments of YOUR SPIRIT, but one of those fragments ended up getting into all sorts of shenanigans with some demigoddess who you had never met in your life.

And I know you’re gonna say: “But Oropo is his own person, he has thoughts and feelings too. That’s why he was able to love someone who wasn’t in his creator’s life, making him carve his own path to his destiny! 😫😫”

Gurl.

That’s putting feelings over logic.

Oropo is a PART of YUGO. Oropo doesn’t even disagree with that either. He doesn’t correct Yugo when he tells him that they’re supposed to be the same person.

Like I said before, he literally tells Yugo that all the eliotropes are parts of him, literal alter egos.

Without Yugo, he can’t live.

Without Yugo, he can’t think.

Without Yugo, he can’t be.

He literally cannot exist on his own because he is a part of Yugo. That’s why the majority of eliotropes can’t live for very long because their main core, Yugo, isn’t with them. That’s why Oropo tried to morph into Yugo so he could live longer.

Also, eliotropes can’t help but feel everything Yugo feels too: “We all cherish them as much as you do but nothing belonged to us." - Oropo in S3 to Yugo. It’s like an instinct, a force that they can’t control, they can’t help themselves but go with the feeling.

So again, Echo, what were you thinking??

Not only did you know Oropo would have a much shorter life span than you if he didn’t have access to the Eliacube and the eliatrope dofus (which would still be a pain to use for him), but you knew that he was essentially an exact copy of a person who had created him by accident, AND has a tendency of leaning towards that very same person’s desires more than he can help himself. Even his freaking name (which means “to rest” in French) wants to be at peace aka join Yugo.

Oropo declared he wasn’t going to see the day when his brotherhood become gods because he will die soon. Echo should’ve known, out of anyone, that the time would have come eventually.

So here’s the thing: since Echo knew he was going to die soon, and he was the last of his kind, she knew that Oropo’s life expectancy would go back to Yugo’s body.

Then what? What would she do?? Do nothing and weep?? She was his second-in-command and she truly did love him, so what would she do after that? Become the Eniripsa goddess without expecting to ever see him again??

I don’t think she planned that far.

She should’ve been more aware that falling in love with the COPY of a person who would die before you never ends well.

Again, the eliotropes are not saying that they want to be their own selves. They are perfectly fine accepting what they are and want to be acknowledged by Yugo.

That was the sole reason why they all appeared before Yugo when he was getting tortured by Toross. That was the main goal, to be acknowledged.

So Echo, why???

Like genuinely, did love blind you that much???

Also imagine if she actually ended up joining the others in the Inglorium unwillingly….

What are you gonna do, kneel before Yugo and beg him to bring Oropo back???

Literally what???

Someone has gotta tell me how her relationship works with Oropo.

[olympeline]

When it comes to FrUK, I tend to be meaner to Arthur. So let’s switch things up and be mean to Francis for a change! For equality 😘

Picture, Francis: country of love and romance, who teases, charms, flirts, presses kisses to hands, and whispers sweet nothings, but never goes further. Never starts relationships and gently pushes away anyone who tries. He doesn’t want to because he’s been in love for centuries. With, of course, his eternal rival across the channel. It started with Arthur having a one-sided crush on Francis when they were kids, but then they grew up and the interest reversed. Now it’s Francis pining over Arthur who seems to feel nothing but contempt for him. Which is shitty for Francis in many ways but sucks extra hard because Arthur is well into his Perfidious Albion persona by this point.

Unlike Francis, who flirts but won’t ever go further than kisses, Arthur is free loving all over everyone like a rash. Perfidious can translate as “faithless” and yep, thaaaat’s Arthur: kind of a ho, lol. He’ll go with anyone, and I mean anyone. Nation-people, humans, fae, anyone who shows interest. Anyone, that is, except his eternal rival across the channel. Francis pretends not to care when the other nations gossip about Arthur’s latest conquests, but inside he cares. A lot. But what can he do? Arthur hates him more than anything. He never responds to Francis’s flirting with anything other than aggression. Francis and Francis alone can’t get the time of day from Europe’s erotic ambassador, much less get into his pants. Crushing. Arthur must hate him so much. Francis belives this wholeheartedly and has resigned himself to a life alone. Playing the role of Arthur’s enemy. If he can’t have the man he’s in love with, then he doesn’t want anyone else. If for no other reason than Francis is kindhearted when it comes to love. It wouldn’t be fair to doom a partner to a life of eternal second best.

This goes on for centuries. Arthur collects notches from anything that moves, Francis puts on a flippant front but pines away inside. Then, one day, Arthur gets really drunk at a bar in France. Francis is called to come get him and he drags Arthur back to his home in Paris. Arthur is depressed about something and drunker than usual. Francis tries to make him lie down and sleep it off, only to get the shock of his life when Arthur lunges up and attempts to kiss him. Then spills his guts and tells Francis that he’s in love with him. Him and only him. Truly, madly, deeply. He never stopped being in love with Francis, actually. Arthur - pessimist he is - ached but gave up on Francis early. Thought that Francis’s flirting didn’t mean anything because Francis flirted with everyone only to never let them get close. Francis broke Arthur’s heart when they were kids, though he didn’t realise it at the time. So Arthur kept him at arms length ever since and tried to fill the void with meaningless sex.

Francis is…well, he just got the shock of the millennium. Arthur passes out while he’s still trying to take it in. Then the penny drops and Francis is ecstatic and melodramatic and happy crying everywhere because his feelings are returned! His broken heart healed! It’s a miracle! Now he and Arthur can be together at last. Seems great, right? But wait, wasn’t this post supposed to be mean to Francis? Hehe, we’re not done yet, dear reader.

When Arthur wakes up the next day, he’s forgotten everything. Forgotten the kiss, forgotten his entire confession. A night’s worth of memories dissolved away to nothing in cheap French wine. Not only that, he realises where he is and jumps out the window in spite of his hangover. Escaping while Francis is distracted cooking them the best breakfast he’s ever made. So poor Francis got the confession he always longed for and thought was impossible…and it’s immediately meaningless. Francis now knows Arthur loves him back (he’s nothing but totally honest when he’s that drunk) but good luck getting Arthur to admit it. He’s spun himself a nice, comfy little web of denial over the last few centuries. Francis making crazy claims about love confessions and telling Arthur he loves him back is just more dirty tactics from an enemy trying to throw him off balance. Riiiight? Well, Arthur Bloody Kirkland won’t fall for it! Not a chance!

Francis: It’s the truth, Angleterre! You told me you love me!

Arthur: Fuck you, frog! I would never! *Flounces off to have pirate sex with Antonio*

Francis: *Internal screaming*

They get a happy ending eventually

[thursdayinspace]

fic: it's the day the world didn't end

Rating: Explicit Words: 1.544 I was going to write meta about the Millennium kiss. And then I didn't. Because those two had other plans. I have SO MANY FEELINGS about Millennium and what they did or didn't do, and the feelings have to go somewhere...

Summary:

The clock ticks over to the day the world doesn’t end and he kisses her. She kisses him back. It’s not a new year’s kiss, it’s a kiss more than six years in the making.

Read here on AO3

Tagging @today-in-fic

[readingwiththereids]

yanda! speaks: hello my pretties! as promised, here is chapter 2! again, minimal carm so i’m sorry but we do get to see camila interact with the rest of the gang <3 hope you like it, don’t forget to like and reblog! lots of love and light 🤎

masterlist

night rain ; chapter 2

2022

Emilia was hyper and extremely difficult to tire out. Even after a two-hour trip to the park filled with nonstop monkey bars and swings, the young girl still always had another activity in mind for her and her mother to do. And that was why Camila was currently trying to stop Emilia from jumping from couch to chair and cracking her head open as they played “pirates”.

“Emmy, I swear to God if you jump, I won’t make you pudding for a week.” Camila yelled as she eyed her daughter sternly.

As the toddler huffed and sat down on the arm of the couch, a muffled ringtone sounded from under the pile of toys on the living room floor prompting Cam to rush to answer. It was Tina.

“Mami? ¿Qué pasó?” [What happened?]

“Why would you assume something happened, Camila? What if I just wanted to hear your voice?”

“Because when I tried to call you during the day last week you told me to, and I quote, ‘hop off your dick’.”

“Okay but that was different, I actually want something from you now.”

“So you do need something.” Camila chuckled into the speaker.

“Yes. Yes, whatever, God you’re just as bad as the new girl.”

“Who?” 

“No one. Could you please be my darling daughter and bring me one of my extra clean aprons? Your boyfriend won’t stop yelling at me about it.”

Ignoring the way her mother referred to Carmy, Camila replied watching Emilia start to yawn on the couch, “Are you aware that your darling daughter is also the mother to a two-year-old?” 

“Isn’t it nap time? Just bring her with, she can sleep in the car.”

A pause.

“Will you take care of her on Friday during the gala?” 

^^^^^^^^^

“I’ll be right back.” Camila whispered as she exited and locked her child in the car.

5 minutes. Just 5.

The woman thought as she hesitantly walked through the door of The Beef before being met with almost half a dozen bodies hovering around what seemed to be sandwiches.

“Cam?” 

Marcus spotted her first, immediately walking around the group to engulf her in a huge bear hug. Suddenly everyone was surrounding her. She couldn’t even count how many hugs, kisses on the cheek and pats on the back she received from her chosen family. The commotion obviously summoned the king of noise and ruckus himself, Richie and an unknown girl with multi-coloured braids trailing behind him. 

“As I live and breathe!” Richie’s voice boomed through the front of house.

“Hey, Cousin.” Camila laughed as he picked her up and spun her around.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, Mini.”

“Likewise,” she said before turning to the girl she had yet to be introduced to. “Camila, nice to meet you.” she smiled.

“Hi! My name’s Sydney, I’m staging today.”

“Awesome, I hope everyone’s made you feel welcome.” 

Angel stepped in, clearing up the confusion on Sydney’s side. “Cam is Tina’s daughter.” 

“And Carmen’s ex-girlfriend.” Ebra loudly whispered.

“Ebraheim, you know you can’t whisper.” Tina rolled her eyes, slapping his arm.

Breaking the awkwardness, Sweeps walked up to Camila with a sandwich in his hand. “Yo, you gotta try this.”

“Holy shit, this is fu-”

“Fucking fire, we know!” Richie groaned. “I don’t know why you all act like Cousin shits out a golden egg every time he makes something, nothing is that good!”

“Well, have you tried it, Richard?” Camila asked.

The scruffy man paused before shaking his head as if that was one of the most absurd questions anyone had ever dared to utter in his presence.

“Exactly,” Cam continued. “Also, I’ve seen you eat a slice of pizza off the floor in the middle of Millennium Park, so I’m not entirely sure if your standards are up to code, Rich.”

That statement resulted in many exclaims and expressions of disgust, amusement and pure shock which were all interrupted when the kitchen door slammed open.

“Alright! Everyone stop standing around, we only have an hour left till-”

When Camen looked up from his phone and saw the very reason his employees refused to get back to work, he froze. Believe it or not, this was the first time in three years that he had seen Camila’s face. After she left, she never told him where she went, removed him from all her social media, left some money for him to pay off their apartment and basically disappeared off of the face of the earth. It hit him hard at first but he soon realised that he had to just keep going, keep himself busy, which his career did a fine job at. 

However, it still felt weird seeing her again. Not exactly like reopening an old wound but rather reminding him of one that never really healed, that he’d just forgotten was still hurting.

Due to his train of thought, Carmy failed to notice that the room had almost entirely cleared out, leaving just him and the woman he’d been in love with once (and honestly was still in love with).

“Hi.” he eventually croaked out.

“Hi.” she smiled sadly.

yanda! speaks (again): cam in her bad mom era tbh. like girl why are you leaving your child in the car in the middle of river north?? 🤨

🏷️ list: @rexorangecouny @louderfortheback

[dm me to get on the tag list :b]

[world0fmadness]

HERALD OF DEMISE

tomas “ samoth ” haugen x reader

♡ general dating headcanons for samoth!

୨୧ still kind of can’t believe people actually like my stuff enough to request things T_T i love it, i hope you like this anon! reader is referenced to have boobs and be shorter than samoth but they’re not major things <3

♡ requested by anon | related hc available here | view my metal masterlist here

reading music recommendations: when the dead walk the earth by gorefest - black millennium by mutiilation

♡ as i mentioned in his nsfw alphabet, samoth is a huge fan of your boobs!

୨୧ when you guys first met, his eyes were glued to them, watching them softly bounce as you walked towards him

♡ he gave you a quiet but firm greeting, his voice deepened with a cloud of lust shadowing over his head as he kept his eyes on your chest before slowly raking them up towards your face which was just as hypnotising for him

୨୧ yeah, he’s a confident man… quiet but confident, well, quiet unless he feels he has to speak up about something

♡ he had so many fantasies about you before you guys started dating, it was bad… he felt like a teenager in high school with getting his first crush, he imagined doing everything and anything with you

୨୧ you guys probably got together after he finally made a move on you and you hooked up one night, he knew he felt something deeper for you and asked you flat out if you wanted to try out dating! and alas, you did <3

♡ he’s a pretty protective guy and his height comes in very handy with scaring off unwanted attention

୨୧ oh there’s a guy very clearly bugging you whilst samoth is grabbing some beer at the bar?

♡ he’ll walk back over, place the beers on the table and loom over you whilst staring the guy right in the eyes, raising an eyebrow

“ d’you need something? what’re you bugging my girlfriend for? fuck off… dickhead… ” ( his voice gets so deep when he’s irritated or angry, it’s hot as shit and he knows it )

୨୧ after scaring the guy off, he’ll usually make sure you’re fine, gently patting your knee and taking your hand in his

♡ samoth absolutely teaches you how to shoot his revolver!

୨୧ he takes you out to the woods and sets up some glass bottles for you to shoot, getting behind you and leaning down to place his chin on your shoulder, firmly positioning his hands over yours on the revolver and fixing your aim whilst whispering in your ear

“ move your finger closer to the trigger, right here… that’s it, y’got it… mhm, move a little to the left here ” ( you try so hard to not let lust overtake you at the deep whispering in your ear, his big hands on yours and his crotch pressed up against you )

♡ when you’re about to shoot, he’ll remove his hands from yours and place them over your ears, just for the first shot so that you don’t get shocked <3

୨୧ if you manage to shatter one of the glasses on your first bullet, he’s so proud! looking down at you with a boyish smirk before softly smacking your butt and placing a kiss on your head, proclaiming you’re a “ natural born gunslinger ” as you laugh and lean into him

♡ he loves when you wear his necklace! to him, it’s a sign that you love him and always want something to remind you of him and for outsiders, it’s a sign that you’re very much spoken for

୨୧ i mean, samoth would never give his necklace to just anyone! he has to really feel an immense love for them and trust them, some may say it’s just a necklace but it isn’t to him

♡ samoth is a major shower guy! he’s kind of just too tall to take baths so he opts for showers, almost always pulling you in with him

୨୧ sometimes he forgets just how tall he is and stands in front of you in the shower, effectively blocking almost all of the water from hitting you

♡ often times you have to laugh and tap him on the shoulder for him to realise he’s blocking you from getting any water

୨୧ he’ll just give a deep chuckle before taking your hands and pulling you in front of him, placing his hands on your hips and leaning down for a kiss

♡ you’ve probably worn his turtleneck top so many times! it’s pretty big on you but feels amazing to wear in autumn, i just know it’s so comfy and smells exactly like his natural musk and just a tiny hint of his aftershave

୨୧ he loves when you wear it, it always brings a tiny smile across his face before he accuses you of only being with him to steal his clothes

♡ he really likes when you sit on his lap! wether it be at home or in a public space

୨୧ no matter your height or weight, he’ll always pull you over onto his lap and mumble in your ear to make yourself comfy whilst roping an arm around your waist, his fingers tapping three times as a silent “ i love you ”

♡ i can see samoth being really into PDA but in a kind of strange way

୨୧ he doesn’t participate in PDA to look cool, he just generally likes kissing you and feeling up on you…

♡ this man will never not be tightly holding your hand in his as you walk somewhere, he’s a huge fan of hand holding! it’s one of those small things that he can’t get enough of for some reason

୨୧ i feel like he probably runs hot so his hands always warm yours up SO good in winter and just anytime you’re cold! if that still doesn’t warm them up completely, he’s definitely one of those guys who will bring your hands up to his mouth and blow into them whilst rubbing them to try and warm them up for you <3

♡ one time you mentioned how you should really pick up some mittens or gloves and he nearly yelled but he quickly composes himself

୨୧ he tells you he thinks body heat is much better, gloves? gloves are no use, just hold his hand… no way is he losing this, he loves holding your hand and warming it up for you but won’t just admit that

♡ samoth is seriously just so pretty and i bet he’s totally one of those guys who secretly loves being pampered by their partner

୨୧ i mean, he’ll definitely act like all the cream and products you’re putting on him are useless and stupid but deep down he really likes it!

“ fuckin what? the hell is that? and what’s that do? you’re buying bullshit, babe, bullshit… and why is there so many different names for this shit? ” ( he grumbles and moans but if this stuff makes you happy, he’ll buy as many bullshit face creams you want… as long as you let him give you a facial if you know what i mean )

♡ he’s never really had someone care for him this much and you fingers massaging creams into his face feels really fucking good…

[descendantofthesparrow]

Once Upon a December - The Invitation - Walter x Reader - P11 smut extension

SMUT CHAPTER - TAKES PLACE IN PART 11 OF OUAD 

=

Je t'adore, Je t'aime; Evangeline You're my queen of the night; So still, So bright That someone as beautiful as she; Could love someone like me Love always finds a way it's true! And I love you, Evangeline

-

He really couldn’t believe it, he had found you, you remembered everything, and you still loved him, you still wanted him. Harrison’s eyes fluttered closed at the memory, of your lips on his, your hands on his neck; your fingers curling into his hair, tugging him ever closer.

Harrison groaned as he remembered the feeling; finally feeling you against him after 900 years, your lips, your hands, your body-all of it. Like a dream come true. Like many dreams come true. Harrison snapped back into reality as the toaster popped out your toast and Harrison quickly smacked his cheeks to rid himself of the ~plenty~ of steamy thoughts he was having about you.

“She just got back Harry, let her have a moment of calm,” he told himself, did he want to ravish and worship you just as he did back then? Have you whimpered underneath him as he made you feel like the goddess you were? Of course! Was he going to make any advances without your consent? Hell no, like before; he would always wait for your move, for your word.

Harrison huffed as he adjusted his stance, feeling himself pressing against his unfortunately tight pants “dammit” he grumbled, finishing off the sandwich with some cheese and slicing it in half; cracking his neck to release some tension as he plated your dinner and began the silent walk down the hall back to his room.

Upon entry, It felt like he was shoved into a hot bath; because there you were, on his bed-just as he had dreamed of-wearing nothing but one of his button-ups and a pair of his boxers; your wedding ring and necklace glinting in the moonlight that drifted in from the window.

You looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips as you closed the book you had been reading and set it aside; the very same book he had given to you two days ago. “hi” you whispered, and Harrison found his senses and whispered the word back; nearly tripping over his feet as he walked over to you and set the plate in front of your crossed legs.

He swallowed harshly as you hummed happily and thanked him, taking the sandwich and digging in, his eyes trailing every bit of your exposed skin; your shoulder, your thighs, your wrists, your neck, jaw, collar bone, all of you-he couldn’t help but study you, file everything away in his brain just in case you were taken from him again.

He honestly still couldn’t believe you were here, right in front of him; breathing and eating…wearing his clothes. You saw his stare and giggled, a flush appearing on Harrison’s face as you shook your head fondly "you’re staring at me” you teased, giggling as his eyes locked with yours, your face only inches away as you leaned towards him.

Harrison glanced away, as if ashamed he was caught staring but you cooed and took his chin, making him look at you again “no no, you’re allowed.” Harrison took a sharp breath as you pushed your sleeve up on your right wrist, showing it to him as you shoved your empty plate to the side “now, you eat” Harrison pouted a bit, while he knew your blood was best for him, and he never needed much; he hated the idea of hurting you-of taking your life force. You just gave him a look “you haven’t been full for nearly a millennium. Eat, please my dear”

Harrison sighed, his face softening at your words, taking your wrist and trailing his lips gently across your skin, sighing as he felt your pulse beneath his thumb; replacing it with his lips and kissing it gently, humming as he bore his fangs and pierced your skin. Shivers exploded through his body as your blood flowed into his mouth, and it felt like he had been granted a taste of the forbidden fruit, pleasure and divinity; a craving finally satiated.

He moaned as he swallowed the first mouth full, his tongue coated in your essence, your life force; his eyes fluttered, his pants getting tight once again as your free hand ran through his hair, your humming breaking through the buzzing of his heated mind. He took a gasping breath as he finally pulled away from your wrist, feverishly licking up the dripping blood from your arm; his chest rising rapidly as you took his chin and cleaned it, your fingers being licked clean when you provided them.

You whispered his name, and he stared into your eyes, your sparkling (e/c) reflecting his glowing red. Your blood stained his lips and chin; your scent filled his senses and warped his mind. He wanted you-nay- needed you. He needed to hear you fall apart beneath him, whimpering as his mouth praised your skin and cunt, he needed to swallow your cum as he sucked on your clit.

He needed you. Now.

“Let me worship you, please” Harrison begged, hovering over you as you lay back on the bed, your head pressed into the soft pillows, your lips in a soft smile; your eyes looking into his with all the love in the world he didn’t deserve. You just took his face, and kissed him. he moaned into your mouth, one of his hands taking your waist as the other took your hips; bringing them to meet his as he thrust his hardness into your covered cunt, pulsing with want.

“Harry” you whispered his name, gasping as his fanged teeth pulled at your bottom lip. You whispered his name again, letting your head fall back as he trailed his lips down your chin, your neck, the valley between your breasts; all the while slowly undoing your clothes.

His white button-up slid out from underneath your body as your hips rose to meet his, rocking your cunt against his cock to satisfy the need for friction. Harrison groaned, meeting your lips once again as he grabbed your thighs, his claws near ripping through the fabric of his boxers and tearing into your skin. “Gentle” you whispered into his mouth and he chuckled, mouthing your jaw “always” he whispered back, his clawed fingertips massaging your thighs as he spoke.

Slowly, enough that it was more torture than pleasure, Harrison took off the fabric covering your thighs and hips, trailing your skin with kisses as he exposed your already soaking cunt and trembling thighs. “Harry” you breathed, your head falling back as Harrison pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your cunt, slowly doing the same to your stomach-pausing where your uterus would sit-and then up and up until he reached your breasts, taking special care of them; taking each nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the hardened buds, chucking as you gasped at his affection.

He muttered your name, as if it was a prayer, as if he was speaking to a goddess, kissing you sweetly as he rocked his still-clothed hips against you, the rough fabric of his pants sending shocks down your spine. “Please,” you whispered out, taking his face and pushing him back gently, staring into his glowing eyes “please, i-I-we’ve both waited far too long, my love”

Harrison’s eyes fluttered and he nodded, sitting up and taking off his top in a rush, tossing it next to yours on the edge of the bed frame and getting to work on his pants; the belt hitting the wall with a loud crack. You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, sitting up slightly to watch as he shoved his pants off, biting your lip as you saw the large bulge in his underwear, a nice large wet spot marking where the tip was.

Harrison choked on his breath as you reached out, taking the warm twitching bulge in your palm and rubbing it slowly, watching as his jaw dropped open and his eyes fluttered shut-a red flush covering his face down to his neck “s-shit, (y/n)” he let out a moaning whine, lightly thrusting into your hand.

You chuckled lightly, sitting up further and pressing your lips to Harrison’s navel, smirking against his skin as he gasped; his stomach contracting at the feeling. Your fingers trailed up his thighs till they curled under the waistband of his underwear, slowly pulling it down as you kissed his exposed skin-doing the same to him as he had done to you.

Harrison stared down at you, his eyes half-lidded and hazy, breathing heavily as you sucked the skin on his hip; he whined out your name, gasping as you freed his red-tipped cock and licked up the shaft, smirking as you looked up at him. “a-ahh~ (y/n)” he moaned out, gently grabbing your head and resting his hand there as you teased the tip, thumbing the slit that was dripping with pre-cum.

You took him into your mouth, your tongue dragging on the bottom as you slowly swallowed his cock, feeling him pulse inside your mouth. “(y/n)-fuck-fuck fuck-ah-ahhh-mmm” you hummed at Harrison’s wonderful noises, enjoying every whimper and moan that slipped from his lips.

You huffed as he gently pulled your head back, his eyes glowing in the darkness of the room; staring lustfully and lovingly down at you. “I believe I’m the one to be worshiping my dear” Harrison muttered, carefully moving you until you were resting against the bed again, your legs on either side of his neck as he bit and sucked at the skin of your thighs. His clawed hands pressed into your hips, caressing them until they grabbed your thighs; his mouth diving into your pulsing cunt, swirling his tongue around and on your clit, smirking as you cried out at the feeling.

“Harry! Fuck!” you shuddered, hips pressing into his mouth as your back arched, curling your fingers into his impossibly soft hair and tugging harshly; gasping as he dutifully ate you out, enjoying all you had to offer. His nose pressed into your gut, his eyes closed as if he was eating a meal made by the heavens; fluttering his tongue through your soaked cunt, one of his hands moving to dip into your entrance, smirking as you gasped.

You whimpered out his name, your cheeks burning as you felt his tongue flick and suck at your clit, his fingers doing wonders inside you. He still knew you like a book, knowing what felt best, where to hit with the pads of his fingers; how to flick his tongue just right to where you crumbled beneath him.

“H-Haar-FUCK!” you came with a cry of his name, your cum soaking his mouth as he hummed, moaning quietly as your taste flooded his senses. Fuck how he had missed this, missed you; missed everything about you. He pulled away with a slow deep breath, smirking up at you as you took in gasping breaths, your hand slowly uncurling from his hair as he pressed slow sensual kisses to your navel and belly, closing his eyes as he paused where your uterus would be.

“Do-do you still want them?” you asked quietly, running your fingers through his hair, your nails scratching at the back of his neck and down to his spine. He hummed as he nodded gently, kissing your belly again and slowly going up and up until he met your neck; sucking the skin into his mouth. He did. He still wanted kids, with you; only you. And hopefully-when this was all over, you could start trying. “Do you?” he repeated your question, resting his chin between your breasts, closing his eyes as your hands cupped his cheeks. “yes” you whispered, giggling as he quickly leaned forward and kissed you passionately, groaning slightly as you tugged at his hair and scratched his back.

The kiss turned soft as Harrison's hands trailed up and down your sides, carefully arranging himself at your entrance, the swollen head of his cock pressing against your clit. “Harry” you breathed, pulling away just enough to talk; your lips still brushing against each other “please-“ you gasped, head falling back into the pillows as Harrison pushed inside, gently; watching with shaking breath as you fell apart beneath him, moaning at the feeling of him fill you up perfectly.

“fuck-“ Harrison groaned, pressing his forehead to your shoulder and sighing as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours “fuck~” he kissed you again, staying still as your body adjusted to him, it had been a very long time since you last had sex in the first place-let alone with him. soon, your arms curled around his shoulders, pecking the corner of his lips. “okay” you whispered, gasping as Harrison slowly pulled back out, watching your expressions intently as you gasped and moaned at the feeling of him; the slow drag of his cock pushing and pulling out your cunt.

“faster” you muttered against his chin, biting his jaw as he slowly picked up speed, keeping the same sweetness as you both began to build up a sweat. His hands took yours, pinning them to the bed as he rocked his hips into yours, never taking his eyes off your face as it devolved into pleasure; rose red passionate pleasure.

You whispered his name over and over again, sparks of electricity zinging up your spine and navel as he dragged against that spot over and over again; always knowing how and where to thrust to make you feel exactly as you should-worshiped. Harrison’s eyes practically rolled to the back of his head as he felt you clench wonderfully around him, a gasping moan drawing from his lips as he tried to mold his body into yours, the sound of skin against skin resounding through the moonlit room.

“fuck-(y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n),” he whispered your name over and over again, like it was a prayer; a call to a goddess. The two of you were so sensitive from years apart, he could already feel that coil in his gut, the sparks up his spine, the fog in his head; his orgasm approaching fast.

“i-I want-I want-inside” Harrison panted into your ear, nearly coming early at the sound of your wet cunt accepting his cock so readily as you both climbed to the peak. “please-can-please?”

“Yes!” you gasped, lunging forward for a kiss, whispering into his mouth as you arched up into him “do it, deep-safe-“ Harrison came with a gasping cry, his teeth meeting your neck as one of his hands bolted down to rub your clit, and it washed over you like a bolt of lightning. Your vision went white, your ears rang; sparks exploded within your body. The same was for Harry, his hips stuttering as he came inside you; a warmth you hadn’t felt in so many years filling you up.

Harrison moaned loudly as he felt you twitch and clench around his sensitive cock, milking him for all he had, your blood flowing into his mouth where he had bit you on the neck. He groaned at the taste, his eyes hazy as he pulled away, your blood and cum dripping down his chin as he breathed heavily.

He looked into your eyes, nearly crying at the love in your eyes, love he had been dreaming, near begging, to see again for the last 900 years. Harrison wiped his mouth clean, letting himself lay atop you gently, still inside you, still connected; kissing you softly “I love you; I love you; I love you” he whispered over and over again, he still couldn’t believe it. You were here, with him, sweaty and tired, and looking at him as if he deserved every bit of love you had to give.

You giggled, reaching for his face and kissing him softly, pecking his lips between each word “I love you too, Harrison Deville.”

-end-

….hehehe-steamy~ and romantic, this was too much fun-hope yall liked! And if you want more of my smut writing-look to “cant stop this feeling”! it’s legit just a full smut book with the boi Harry Hook (also played by Thomas Doherty)

smut taglist!

@crazy4books1​ @reallysparklychaos​ 

[of-solitude-past-and-present]

WOWOW I LOVE YOUR ACC!!

Ah idk if someone has asked this before but what would Naga Scara do if the reader was really sick? Not that fatal that they could die but how would he treat them??

I'VE HAD THIS QUESTION FOR DAYS SKSKSK

gonna kiss u right on the cheek come here /j

BUT YOU HAD THIS QUESTION FOR SO LONG AND ONLY SENT IT IN NOW??? this is a warning to the rest of you. send in your questions 🔫

Anyway! I think that this would be even worse than him finding out about periods because you're not supposed to get sick. The moment you tell Kuni, he feels a pang of oh-so-familiar fear, which he quickly suppresses. Part of it is that same "Is this my fault?? Did I do something wrong??" anxiety, but it also has the added weight of millennium-old mental baggage. Illness brings back bad memories. He still remembers the end of Gurabad.

He's on edge the entire time. You might know that you're going to be fine and it's nothing that major but matter how many times you tell him, that restless anxiety won't leave him. He'll do his best to hide any fear for your wellbeing; he's stronger than that, above it, is what he tells himself. So, as you might have guessed, it comes out as anger and annoyance, making him very irritable until he's absolutely certain you're going to be fine.

However, if you watch him closely, you might notice a flicker of panic when he thinks your condition has worsened, or the edge of desperation when he looks you over. I wouldn't recommend pointing this out, though. He doesn't like being viewed as anything less than untouchable.

He already viewed you to be as fragile as porcelain before, and this just makes that even worse. He ends up watching you like a hawk, just as much to quell his anxiety as it is to make sure that you don't get worse. Anything you need, expect him to get it for you if at all possible, as quickly as possible. It's because he's genuinely worried you might die on him if he leaves you alone too long or can't get you something. He's a bit out of touch when it comes to human durability, but I guess that's fair. Any human would be delicate in comparison to him.

There's no immediate sigh of relief in this situation. He only starts feeling better when you do, and it's a slow process. For a few days afterwards, he'll continue to keep an eye on you. He's worried it might come back.

It's a tense situation for the both of you. His anxiety rubs off on you, not so much in a "am I going to die??" sense and more in a "why is this emotionally constipated bastard getting so worked up over the person he kidnapped" sort of way. It's really not a good time.

He felt a little embarrassed to be so "doting" but he was too worried over your health to be anything less. To make himself feel a little bit better, he expects you to dote on him afterwards. To even things out, he says.

"What? It's embarrassing? Now you know how I felt. Hurry up then, it's only fair."

[springdandelixn]

For the smut prompts can I get 4 and 35 with Loki please?

The Bet

Summary: You're determined to win again your on-going bet with Loki. But what happens when it's his turn to claim victory?

From the following prompts: #4 - Let's see how many times I can make you cum tonight. #35 - I’m gonna handcuff you to the bed so you can’t push my head away after I make you cum.

Characters: Loki x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, bondage, oral (f receiving), Loki is cunning.

Thank you for the request! Kinda sloppy, so I apologize but I hope you enjoy! 💚

“He’s not going to die.” You say with much conviction as you take the popcorn out of the microwave. “He’s like the strongest and smartest character in the show. How is he going to die when he’s practically 10 steps ahead of all of them?”

“I just know it, Darling.” Loki grins at you from the couch, remote in hand as he searches for the show you both have been binging for the past month and a half. “That’s what the show does. It’s very predictable.” He explains like he’s an expert on the show, though you don’t question his passion for it either. “They set up the strongest players for everyone to love only to kill them after.”

“They won’t kill my boy.” You grumble as you sit beside him on the couch. A bowl of popcorn in one hand and two bottles of beer in the other. You hand him a bottle and bowl. “He’s different. He’s strong.” It’s like you’re convincing yourself more than him. You push on. “He’ll live.”

“We’ll see.” He smirks as he turns to face you. He leans forward, his face only inches away from your cheek. “And when he does, when I win this bet, I’m going to handcuff you to the bed so you can’t push my head away after you come.” His voice is low and full of determination. The surety of his promise makes your knees weak, your spine tingle, and your core tighten almost in an instant. “And I’ll make you come again and again and again.” He places a light kiss on the side of your mouth before pulling away, the smirk on his lips seeming permanent as he plays the final episode on the television.

It has been an ongoing bet you both have. Watching the series and predicting who will die in the season finale. The winner gets to choose their prize and so far, you’ve won a spa day, a new pair of sneakers and to your surprise, one you didn’t actually expect him to get, a Millennium Falcon Lego set. 

“I’ll never understand your fascination for this...this thing.” He said as he held the Lego pieces in his hands.

“If you watch Star Wars with me, then you’ll understand.” You grinned at him and began reading the instructions in the booklet. 

So far, it’s either you’ve been winning the bets or no one wins at all. Loki has never gotten his chance to ask anything. And now, with how he’s certain of his prediction, it makes you want to win even harder. To prove him wrong and win once again. And you have to, there’s a new pair of shoes you really want to get and you have no qualms about him spending his money to get it. 

-

“Noooooo!” You shout in shock as the blade of the dagger meets the neck of your favorite character, watching his body writhe on the cobblestone floor as the life seeps out of him. “That can’t be! No!” You sit still on the couch, mouth still agape from what you’ve witnessed. You feel the tears brimming in your eyes and fight back hard for them not to fall. 

You whimper slightly when you feel Loki’s arm encircle you, leaning against him as he holds you to his chest. His hand lightly rubs your shoulder in comfort and latch unto it desperately. 

A light hum leaves you when you feel his lips press lightly against your hair. “You know what that means, Darling.” He mumbles and you turn your head to face him, eyes wide when you see the mischievous grin on his lips, green eyes glowing with desire and want, and most of all victory. “I win.”

-

You don’t know why Loki owns a pair of handcuffs. You don’t even know why they aren’t the fuzzy kind that’s usually sold in the pleasure shops downtown. They’re real. The metal restraints rubbing against your skin as you tug on them lightly, not too tight to hurt you yet not loose to let you escape. 

The room is dark except for the dim lamp that shines at the bedside table on your left and the window with the curtains thrown back, allowing the silver of the moon to shine into your room. You’re naked on the bed, not even a blanket to shield you from the cold. Nipples going stiff and pussy dampening with anticipation. Completely bare for Loki to see and helpless against the plans he has for you. 

“I must say, you look delectable like this, Darling.” You turn your head to the side and face him, seeing him leaning against the threshold of the door, naked from the waist up. The contours of his abdomen and the muscle cuts on his arm glistening against the faint light of the room. “It makes all those times losing so much worth it.” He smirks and watches him slowly walk toward the bed. 

“You don’t have to goad me.” You try to feign annoyance but it’s useless with how much he makes you squirm and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Only walking and talking and god you hate how much power he has on you. That you don’t doubt he knows of with how much he smiles that naughty smile of his. One you want to purge with your own mouth. 

He stands at the side of the bed. His eyes staring down at you, boring into your own before he trails them down to your body, watching his pupils dilate with desire, with want, with lust for you. He reaches over and rolls his forefinger against your nipple, making you fidget on the bed and release a soft moan from his ministrations. 

“God, you’re so beautiful, Darling.” He breathes before pulling his hand away, making you arch your back from the loss of contact, your mind turning into a puddle and wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on your heated body. “So helpless and mine to do as I please.” He continues and you gasp when he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs to wrap them around his clothed waist and pressing you flush against the growing erection within his trousers. 

A soft moan leaves your lips when he leans down to trail kisses on your collarbone, his hand holding him up on the side of your head while the other grabs your waist, kneading your side with his deft fingers before running them up to cup your tit and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Loki—” You moan out his name, your hips bucking instinctively as you try to rub it against his crotch, your pussy crying to be touched, to be kissed, to be fucked. “Please,”

“Patience, my love.” He whispers against your skin. “I have waited so long for this.”

He presses his lips on the tops of your breast, a kiss on each before he runs his tongue against your skin. Your breath then hitches and you pull on your restraints quite harshly as he wraps his lips around your nipple, rolling the tip of his tongue around it while his hand caresses the underside of your breast. 

You’re panting and arching your back, wanting more of his mouth on you as he begins to suck on the stiff nub. Mewls and moans bounce through the walls when his teeth graze against your skin, the cuffs jingling against the metal bedframe each time you pull on them, the metal biting on your skin deliciously and you wouldn’t be surprised to find marking on your wrist after. 

“Please, Loki—” You beg. And you hate begging. But you’re left with no choice. Your body sings with each lick and flick of his tongue on the stiff peaks of your tits, throwing your head back when he gives the same treatment to the other. And how it drives you crazy, your body shivering and tightening deliciously in desire when his hand runs down to the apex of your thighs, his thumb barely skimming against your clit that makes you whimper out loud.

You whine when his lips leave your skin, running his tongue down your sternum and to your abdomen, swirling it around your naval before he pushes himself away and grins up at you after pressing a kiss just above your clit. 

He traces a finger along your folds, teasing you as he pushes the tip of his digit just past your entrance, lightly rubbing the walls, making you pant heavily, his teasing slowly pushing you to the edge that makes you lift your leg up to his shoulder, wanting to lock him between your thighs.

But he’s fast and places both of his hands on your inner thighs, pushing your legs apart wide and exposing your cunt to the cool air of the bedroom. You whimper his name when he leans down and gives your lips a long and slow lick, stopping the tip just at your clit and rolling the tip of his tongue against it. 

You’re desperate. You’re needy. Your legs are shaking in anticipation for him to take you, to claim you again and again. To imprint on your skin that you are his and no one else’s. He sucks on your clit lightly and you moan incoherently, wanting to call his name but the words come out garbled from his frustrating ministrations. 

“Nooo—” You whisper when he pulls away, looking down at him as you try to follow his lips with your pelvis. But his hands keep you pinned on the bed and you shiver when you see the way he’s looking at you. Like a predator ready to devour his prey. 

“Now, let’s see how many times I can make you come tonight, Darling.” He says with a smirk and you turn into a moaning mess when his lips latch onto your clit, tongue swirling around it as he sucks on it hard, pushing your head back against the pillow as you succumb to his power.

Taglist: @mochie85 @stolenlucifer @michelleleewise @rmoonstoner @muddyorbs @javagirl328 @lucylaufeyson3 @huntress-artemiss @ariacraigggg @silverfire475 @lonadane @123forgottherest @catalina712

I don’t know if you guys wanna keep being tagged in the other Loki fics but if you wish to be removed, send me a DM. If any wants to be added, send me a DM too. I just don’t want to bombard you guys with so much notifs.

[monstersdownthepath]

Milestone Monster: Nocticula, Our Lady in Shadow

CR 30

Chaotic Evil Medium Outsider

Adventure Path: Wrath of the Righteous: The Midnight Isles, pg. 86=87 (image taken from Elena Kononenkos’ artstation; it’s officially used in the Wrath of the Righteous video game!)

I put off reviewing Nocticula for the longest time for one specific reason: it’s incredibly hard to find art of her that could potentially bypass Tumblr’s ban on things which could cost them advertising money. Now, with those restrictions.... ?somewhat? ?lifted?, I feel as though I can finally star her in an article while using the best possible piece of art to represent her. I feel like no other piece before this one does justice to the Queen of the Succubi; every other piece shows off her Succubus side, but only this one shows off the Queen; The infinitely scheming and domineering presence in the Abyss, apex of demonic power, and voted Most Likely To Be The Next Demon God for a millennium running due to her penchant for stealing power from everyone who makes the mistake of allying with her and thinking they’re going to survive her wrath if they disappoint her.

To anyone who got into Pathfinder via its 2nd Edition (or completed the WotR video game), it may come as no surprise to you to find out that Nocticula succeeded in her quest to shed her evil nature and ascend to divine status as she did so, but it may come as some surprise to find out just what kind of cocoon the Redeemer Queen emerged from, which is what we’ll be covering today; not what she is now, but the powerhouse she was.

While a great many Demon Lords can claim to have body counts exceeding three or four digits thanks to their actions, directly or indirectly, Nocticula not only has a considerable body count of mortals, but several DOZEN other Demon Lords. Her Abyssal realm, the Midnight Isles, is literally built on the corpses of every Demon Lord she seduced and betrayed, taking their power and their bank accounts for herself. You would think after the first three or four, people would get wise to it. Perhaps they would... if Nocticula’s wings weren’t covered, back to front and top to bottom, with the names of still-living allies she’s chosen to bless, each benefiting from her Profane Ascension, a boon she can grant to any willing creature she lays with (or just kisses). Not only do the recipients get a +6 to one ability score of their choice, +4 to a second, See in Darkness, and a constant telepathic connection with dear Nocty (across any distance, even interplanar), but at any time they can request any of her spell-likes and she can grant them the power to use them. With this attractive blessing the LEAST of the gifts she can grant anyone she deems worthy of her time, it perhaps comes as no surprise that everyone wants a piece of her empire for one reason or another.

That she can revoke her Ascension at will and strike the victim with an unavoidable, no-save-allowed 4d6 Charisma drain and 1d10+10 negative levels is of little consequence. Everyone believes they’ll be the ones to remain permanently on her good side by being perfect little servants, that they have something unique only they can offer her, and the especially bold think they’ll be the one to finally betray and overwhelm her. They rarely ever consider her thousands of years of practice, her intelligence and patience, and her raw, ego-crushing power, dismissing each as below their own practice, patience, and power.

And then they end up as another corpse in her collection. Yet another divinity made humble and reduced to pavement by one of the most powerful demigods in all of Pathfinder.

Let’s get the first and most important part of her kit out of the way before we talk about literally anything else: Noticula’s Seductive Presence. Every other Demon Lord has an aura of supernatural terror, sending their lessers fleeing before them and paralyzing some opponents with overwhelming fear... but not Nocty. Dear Nocty can activate her Seductive Presence by merely speaking, forcing everyone and everything within 180ft of her to make a DC 43 Fortitude save. Success sees the victim immune to the Succubus Queen’s presence for a full 24 hours, but failure is incredibly punishing: ALL immunity to mind-affecting effects, charm effects, and compulsion effects is ignored so long as they remain within 180ft of her. No matter what the source of the immunity is, be it magical, racial immunity, or immunity as granted by divinity, it no longer applies while Nocty is in the room.

Suddenly, everyone falling head over heels for her makes a little more sense. if she can seduce machines, plants, oozes, and demigods, what hope does an actual mortal humanoid have? Many demigod-level entities have full immunity to mind-affecting effects, meaning they may be caught by complete surprise when they find themselves hanging onto her every word without realizing it. Fun aside: With a save DC of 43, none of the other statted Demon Lords automatically succeed; the highest Fortitude save belongs to Xoveron, who has +38, meaning he fails if he rolls less than a 6. 

Failing the save against her Presence causes the victim to become fascinated for 5d4 rounds, which typically gives her enough time to decide how she wants to deal with a particular impediment. Equally skilled in diplomacy and violence, Nocticula can skip the middleman and basically use both with gaze alone: At will, as a standard action, Nocticula can simply Dominate a single creature she can see unless it succeeds a DC 43 Will save. The Dominate ability can act as either Dominate Creature or Dominate Person depending on if she’s aiming it at a Humanoid or not, and in the latter case? It becomes a swift action instead of a standard one, meaning she can do it twice a round against a party of Humanoids (or a party with at least one Humanoid). And remember that any hope of no-selling her mental powers is suppressed if you fail that single save you need to make before the fight even begins! This, ironically, means boosting your saves is more important than becoming outright immune to her tricks, as Seductive Presence has no effect on anything bolstering saving throws.

Provided her 3/day Quickened Mass Suggestion didn’t convince the whole party to willingly fail their save against her Presence and thus end the battle before it even started, an actual slugfest with her is so god damn difficult your party may wonder if working for her would be easier than working against her. Starting with the most obvious: Time Stop is a scary spell for a creature as powerful as Nocty, though she has no buffs to make it particularly worthwhile to do so... but what she does have is a 3/day Summon Demons, conjuring upwards to three CR 20 encounters to fight alongside her. While any party able to contend with the CR 30 demigoddess herself isn’t likely to be significantly inconvenienced by even the most powerful of demons, suddenly having to contend with thirty extra bodies between them and a ranged-attack specialist that can fly (not to mention Blasphemy and Chaos Hammer being thrown out with no fear of friendly fire) will, if nothing else, force the party to expend time and resources getting through them.

With the ability to both see in and create supernatural darkness (via at-will Deeper Darkness), Nocty can also use extra rounds of Time Stop to plunge the arena into pitch black she can easily navigate through. Whether it’s through summoning flankers or through the party not being able to see her (or both), Nocty has two separate ways to tack her +4d6 Sneak Attack damage to her dizzying array of damage dealing limbs, three if you count her Greater Feint letting her throw an opponent off-guard as a move action... and four if a DM feels clever, using either her at-will Shapechange or her ability to assume the form of any Humanoid as a free action to pose as a harmless pet, blend in with the crowd of summoned demons, or even hide among the party members. That last one is especially insidious, as who’d call foul about the party Cleric stepping over to slap a new buff onto someone in the middle of combat to counter the darkness or the demon swarm? Unfortunately, a single touch could potentially allow Nocty to get in for a debilitating kiss, her Energy Drain sapping 2 levels from anyone she kisses or caresses with no save... Unless, for whatever reason, they’re not Mythic, which means they take 1d6+4 negative levels instead. But, come on, if you’re fighting Nocticula, you’re gonna be Mythic, right? Or at least have Death Ward up, for god’s sake! NEVER grapple with a succubus without protection!

there i made the joke so no one else has to.

Anyway, I talked about her Sneak Attack before I talked about her regular attacks, didn’t I? She’s got quite the menagerie, and every attack but her two wings (1d6+4) inflicts a different debuff. Her two claws (1d8+12) inflict 1d4 Cha drain as she tears away the victim’s sense of self; her molten hooves deal 1d4+6 damage, 1d6 Fire damage, and set whoever they stomp on fire for 3d6 damage every round; and her trio of whipping, barbed tails deal 2d6+12 damage and afflict victims with a ferocious poison that deals 1d4 Wisdom drain and paralyzes the victim for 1 round if they fail the DC 44 Fortitude save. Failing two saves in a row inflicts permanent blindness, adding a fifth way for Nocty to reap the benefits of her Sneak Attack.

Something special about Nocty’s poison is that it has no cure save. It WILL last 6 full rounds and cannot be prematurely ended by making any number of saves; if you want it ended early, it needs to be via magic. This makes being exposed to repeat doses extremely dangerous, each one adding +2 to the save DC and +3 rounds of duration, but Nocty has no way to bypass poison immunity of any sort (except via Greater Dispel Magic versus magical means), so acquiring a means to stop her from driving you and your party insane should be top priority. Especially since we haven’t even covered something I alluded to three paragraphs ago: Her ranged prowess.

Her unique hand crossbow, Shadowkiss, is her comically undersized but disproportionately damaging weapon of choice--think the Noisy Cricket but without the dramatic recoil. Less of a kiss and more of a ‘hit you with my car’ type of deal going on. This +5 Unholy Hand Crossbow deals 1d4+20 damage and carries Nocty’s tenacious poison with every single shot, and if you’re wondering where that titanic flat damage is coming from: +5 from the enchantment, and +15 from Nocty’s Charisma modifier, as her Cruel Shots ability adds her Cha mod to all ranged weapon attack damage. Furthermore, each time Shadowkiss deals damage to a creature, it gains Bane against that creature’s type until it damages a different creature type, so that’s +2 to attack and damage rolls and +2d6 extra damage. Against a Good-aligned foe she’s already attacked, that means Shadowkiss is dealing 1d4+2d6+22 damage with every shot (+4d6 Sneak Attack if they’re impaired or tangled in melee), of which she can make five a round if she takes a Full-Attack thanks to her Rapid Shot feat. That’s not the only feat she has to empower her ranged attacks, either; she also has the standard Point-Blank and Precise Shot, as well as Flyby Attack because why wouldn’t she, but Rapid Shot is definitely the star player, giving her not only more damage (of course), but potentially giving Shadowkiss one extra chance each round to critically strike, which it does on a 17~20 (which lets her add Staggering Critical to deny your own Full-Attacks).

If all five shots from Shadowkiss land and each dose of poison is successfully delivered, that means the poor soul has to make a DC 54 save every round for 18 rounds to avoid taking drain and being paralyzed...  Y;know, if the 5d4+100 damage didn’t kill threaten their life enough. And obviously, between each Full-Attack, she’ll be burning her swift action firing off Dominate at every opportunity that arises just because she can, which your party will gradually become more and more vulnerable to because of her poison.

I like to think there’s a great many beings in the cosmos that breathed a sigh of relief when Nocticula shed her demonic heritage, but no greater a sigh was heaved than the one exhaled by the denizens of the Abyss itself, if only because now the Demon Lord that other Demon Lords feared was gone.

You can read more about her here.