#I like the other one a lot and I've had it hoarded for a while???

[littlelovingmouse]

i know that no one cares, but i was horribly embarrassed saturday night after getting tipsy over a single glass of sangria and half a pina colada, and i'm relieved to say that it's not just because i don't drink much, but also because as it turns out i was anemic

i.e. i just started my period lol thank fuck

[batwritings]

Sorry if im requesting too much, im just obsessed with your works jehdhdvudvsudvsj

How about dragon!Price with a crow!reader? I’ve seen a lot of people making him a dragon, and crows tend to have the same shiny-hoarding thing going on, so it’s kind of a match made in heaven. Maybe things really kick off when Price’s shedding his scales while our crow reader is getting a lot of nesting urges, causing the reader to take a couple of the shiny scales for her nest. Eventually, when her heat arrives, she realizes her mistake. Her nest smells so much like Price, it’s unbearable.

Sure, they had always been pretty close, due to him being her captain and their tendencies to gift each other shiny items, but this was a bit different. At some point, Price goes ahead and checks on his lovely crow friend. While he’s expecting to just stop by to see how she’s incorporated his scales into the inner workings of her nest, he ends up staying for longer than anticipated..

-Hybrid

Okay but this is such a cute concept. Putting the horny brain aside, I can just see you and Price exchanging or comparing shiny stuff that you found on missions or on shore leave at least once a week. Ugh, too cute! Enjoy!~

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You and Price had always had this sort of deal as it were. Your respective species both had an affinity for shiny objects, your captain being a dragon and hording the stuff and you as a crow, just doing it because...well, you could! It was always intriguing to see the different things the both of you would bring to the table after a long away mission.

You weren't entirely sure when you started doing it, but it took a little longer than you would like to realize the consequences to your actions. See, your dear captain had to shed his scales every once in again, their beautiful bronze catching in the light that really sparked a fondness to your one-track crow brain. And with your nest coming together a little disappointingly, you figured they'd be an excellent addition. Not like Price would miss them, he still had plenty to go around.

Yet as your heat grew closer and closer, you couldn't help but get your mind off the familiar and comforting smell of cigars and gunpowder. It was only when you woke up one more, your body deep within your mating cycle that you realized it. You needed your Captain, and you needed him now.

Thankfully for you, from being around you so frequently, Price seemed to be very well aware of when something wasn't quite right with you. Any time you had seemed remotely off, it was as if your captain had a bit of a sixth sense. So you shouldn't have been surprised to hear the couple solid knocks on your barrack door before it opened with a quiet squeak.

"Y/N? You alright?" the man called, voice low in case he was disturbing you. Your whine in response did nothing to assuage his fears, causing the dragon to burst in a little further. "Hey now what's--"

The man stopped in his tracks when he caught onto your scent. "You've started your heat," he mumbled, more to himself than to you, who was painfully aware. "Oh love, why didn't you say something?" He's quick to approach your nest, bright eyes flicking between you and the mess of blankets, pillows, and other shiny things including his scales.

"John...!~" You whimper, wings fluttering in irritation as you push yourself up onto your knees. Price takes the hint, stepping gingerly into your nest, making himself a spot behind you. He covers you, bringing your hips back so they align with his. His wings create a sort of barrier, as if he was trying to shield you from the world.

"I've got you sweetheart, I've got you," the dragon coos, helping your deft hands to slip down your sleep shorts and underwear. The heady scent that follows from your sex being on display earns a low growl as his member twitches eagerly beneath grey sweats. He's quick to pull his cock free, rubbing it along your cunt to soak it in your slick.

"Sing for me love," Price huffs, slowly sliding inside you. You moan so beautifully for him, reveling in the lovely way he fills and stretches you, the way his claws prick at your skin as they hold you in place so as not to hurt you with rushing the penetration. All the while, your captain is littering you in praise, breathing heavier now as he bottoms out inside you.

It doesn't take more than a few desperate chirps and coos from you to urge him to fuck you in earnest. To say the Brit had been wanting this for some time now would be a great understatement. So to be able to finally have you, take you, claim you, made this so much more tempting.

His hips stutter to a halt when you finally reach your climax, claws trailing over the spot where your gorgeous ebony wings meet your shoulders. You shudder and moan under Price's ministrations, trilling when you feel his claws against your skin and feathers. "Feeling better love?" The dragon rumbles, kissing sweetly at the back of your neck.

You nod breathlessly, hand reaching back to rub where you could of his skin in thanks. "How'd you know to find me here?" You ask, still a little amazed at this ability your captain had. The man only chuckles lowly.

"Well I was wondering where my scales had been disappearing to."

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Vergil Protecting You After You're Injured

Vergil X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Blood, violence, reader is wounded

Word Count: 767

(A/N:) Sorry I have been MIA folks! But I'm back and hopefully will be writing more and getting back into the swing of things. I've been wanting to write, but every time I sat down the words alluded me. So I took a little bit of a break and focused more on my artwork. Now I hope to continue to give attention to both my hobbies. So keep an eye for more stories in the future! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Vergil never felt that having back-up in fights was necessary, as he felt perfectly capable of taking care of business on his own. Power was his only goal in mind as he fought. Becoming the best, becoming stronger. Leaving himself unquestionably the best and most powerful being in existence. Leaving his brother Dante in the dust, like the vermin he is. Then Vergil came across you, a devil hunter in your own right, and he begrudgingly acknowledged your skills in the art of slaying demons. It was a fluke, he had told himself, that you ran into him hunting the same hoard of devils. It was a fluke that you fought alongside him perfectly. A fluke that you had his inner devil half purring at your nearness. Now it was a common occurrence for you both to take missions together.

What had changed his mind about you, he couldn't remember. And now it seemed abnormal whenever you weren't at his side. You were a fragile human, completely mortal, but your powers and strength made even the most powerful of the devil hoards cower and fall by your blade. Vergil refused to let you forget your humanness, but as you were always quick with retorts. You made sure that Vergil never forgot that he was also half human. He tried really hard to forget that, in his pursuit of power that his father and stupid twin brother had given up for the side of humanity. Vergil would scoff, roll his eyes, and march away leaving you to sprint to catch up. But he couldn't fight the small grin coming to his lips, despite trying to hide it, of course you'd notice and not leave him alone until you were satisfied in embarrassing him.

Once again you and Vergil found yourselves taking on another hoard of demons. This group had dug deep into a small town and refused to go down easy. Slash marks marred your face and despite blood flowing into one eye, you refused to back down. Vergil snarled for you to run away, but you stubbornly widened your stance ready to face another wave of attack. All he could do was curse you loudly and hope to keep your now blind side protected while you protected your other side. Limbs and heads of demons falling at your feet, until a Sin Scythe cut through it's own allies just to plunge the scythe into your guts.

Your cries of pain shattered Vergil's concentration as he watched in horror as you crumbled to the ground. His devil side raging inside as the scythe was pulled from your still form. He trigged in blind rage stepping in front of your fallen form and taking out the rest of the hoard in a wave of power. He tried to calm himself, to switch back but all he could manage was a few of his limbs and most of his facial features. Spittle flew from his lips as he tried to soothe his fury, while he checked for a pulse. Your heartbeat met his scaly fingertips and when he pressed a warm hand to your wound, you whined. He snarled more and your eyes fluttered open.

"Vergil?"

"You're losing a lot of blood," he replied. His voice deeper than normal, but that had to do with the fact he was fighting hard to keep from fully transforming again as the blood in his veins continued to boil in anger.

"How many are left," you panted. Always worried about the mission instead of yourself and it made him roll his eyes.

"Dead," his blunt reply made you stop asking questions. Your eyes clouded in pain Vergil scooped you up easily. "We have to get this taken care of."

"Vergil," you gasped. "Slow down. It feels like I'm coming apart at the seams."

"You'll just have to hang on a little bit longer. Until we can get clear so I can use the Yamato to open a portal."

"If you say so." You grumbled. "But don't complain if my innards stain your pretty clothes."

"I'm more worried about losing you."

Vergil's reply stunned you both and his body began to tense until you gently cupped his cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere," you promised.

"Good because I'll tease you for eternity for being taken out by a Sin Scythe," he smirked and you pinched his nose in protest. While your warm blood, had him fighting the anger inside, Vergil's top priority was to take care of you first and then go make more demons' lives living nightmares for even laying a finger on you.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Even If The World Itself Should Fall Down - Malleus (Glorious Masquerade)

Author Notes: So, I've been having a lot of fun reading Glorious Masquerade and I saw an opening and received encouragement from friends to just go ahead and write some fics for this event. So this one is Malleus's and it was written to the “As the World Falls Down” cover by Grace Potter. The dance in this fic was inspired by Andrei and Natasha’s waltz scene from Episode 3 of BBC’s “War and Peace” (2016). As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ sfw/ Glorious Masquerade/ romance/ some pining/ fluff/ dancing

Word Count: 1338

It was the part of the trip everyone had been waiting for, but I found myself still lost in my own thoughts about everything that had occurred since coming to Fleur City. 

A plot regarding the supposed evils of magic, the flames, the flowers, the ringing of the bell, and everything else.

 It was almost too much to process, even considering the fact I’d seen overblots. Perhaps the most distracting thing was the fact that I was so relieved. No one had died, lost their magic, or ended up horribly injured, and the matter had been resolved. 

I leaned against the wall, sighing slightly as people swirled past me in the midst of the masquerade. Either classmates and friends or the people who attended this school or one of the other magic academies themselves. 

It was a swirling eddy of rich fabrics and masked faces.

I had never truly pictured myself in such an opulent scene, and it felt only right, in a great many respects, that I remained on the sidelines. Grim had long since slunk off in search of food and left me alone to watch everyone else.

But I didn’t remain alone for long, as a tall figure soon came cutting their way through the crowd.

Malleus approached with unhesitating steps, my view of him occasionally blocked by a couple twirling by even as he walked towards me. A slight smile was on his face as he drew closer until he emerged from the dancers to stand in front of me.

His hand that had been holding his mask this whole time lowered so that I could clearly see his face as he bent slightly at the waist and held out his other gloved hand with a smile that curved easily across his face, “May I?” 

I blinked at him, half-surprised, before a smile slid onto my face. Because, of course, he wouldn’t leave me stranded all on my own. He knew loneliness well and had no doubt felt sympathy for me the very moment he’d seen me standing on my own.

“I don’t really know the steps,” I warned teasingly, even as I slipped my hand into his. His gloved fingers curled carefully over my hand as he pulled me away from the wall and towards him.

“Then I shall guide you; you need only trust me, Child of Man,” And as he spoke there was a certain villainy to his smile. Almost like he was proud that I’d accepted his offer, as if I’d rejected others. 

It was amusingly similar to a dragon that had found itself a new treasure to hoard all to itself, and I shook my head amusedly but let him lead me out onto the floor. Carefully guiding me around and between other dancing duos who slowly began to look our way with either surprised or intrigued expressions. 

Despite the way I glanced around, Malleus’s eyes stayed on me until we reached the center of the floor, directly under the chandler.

I turned to face him, my hand still in his as I looked at his face. And he had, at long last, looked away from me to carefully enter our dancer’s hold. 

One of his hands on my waist as the other arm was bent around so that it was pressed firmly against his own back, while I had one hand resting lightly on his shoulder and the other held out to hold my clothes out of the way of our footsteps.

Bright green eyes slowly shifted to look at me, and I was close enough to even see his eyelashes fluttering slightly as he met my gaze. The slightest of smiles on his face before he stepped forward, and I stepped back to the very first strings of this new song.  

It was an older style of dance; I could tell that much from the fact he had one arm pressed to his back, which wasn’t part of any modern style, and a part of me wondered if it was a form from the Valley of Thorns. 

From what Sebek had told me, the people there were partial to what many might refer to as more vintage aspects of life.

But I wasn’t complaining; there was something especially lovely about this type of waltz. And I found myself smiling as Malleus pivoted us around the room.

We spiraled around, remaining in the center of the room as the other dancers moved back and away from us. Eyeing us and no doubt questioning why exactly I, of all people, was dancing with the famed and typically feared Malleus Draconia.

After all, I was no one special, and he was the heir to the throne of the Valley of Thorns. An odd couple, to say the least.

As we entered a particularly long set of rotations, Malleus extended the arm he’d had behind his back. Humming slightly as I almost instinctively shifted my hand from his shoulder to his now-free hand.

His fingers curled over and enveloped my hand, as he also shifted to the side so that we were joined only by our arms, which crossed over each other’s chests, as we faced each other and we continued to spin. Almost parallel to one another.

I exhaled softly, relaxing the longer the two of us danced, and I realized that I really could trust him to lead me through this entire dance even though I didn’t know the steps.

As the music slowed and quieted, he drew me closer so that he was once more directly in front of me, though his hand still gripped mine with a quiet gentleness.

I swallowed slightly, briefly glancing away from him and the soft smile on his face, before I managed to speak. 

“I never have really thanked you for diving after me when the floor collapsed,” My voice was soft, and his lips twitched slightly. Almost like he was amused by my words.

“But of course,” He spoke softly as well. Matching my tone in a way that made our words feel like a secret between only the two of us.

Our motions continued to slow until we were simply turning a slow circle and looking at each other even as everyone else kept spiraling, and I shook my head slightly, “No, thank you… Really.”

Something in his gaze softened slightly as he continued to stare at me, and I tilted my head, smiling, “It’s nice that this masquerade could still take place with everything that happened…. The firelotuses and our trip almost getting ruined, I mean.”

I felt his grip on my hand tighten slightly as he inclined his head slightly, almost like he wanted to well and truly keep his next words so that they were just between the two of us. A tender secret not to be shared with anyone else. Be they a close friend or a bodyguard.

“It matters not what collapses. Be it the floor beneath us or even if the world itself should fall down, I will be there for you, Child of man.” I blinked up at him, feeling my eyes widen at his soft words.

At odds with my speechlessness, he smiled. Looking perfectly delighted as he slowly began to speed our motions back up, until we were whirling around the room once more. Center stage as his smile stayed ever-present. It wasn’t long until, even with his words still floating around in my mind, we both started to laugh.

At first, just a chuckle and then soft laughter as we waltzed around, drawing everyone’s gazes as they questioned what sort of secret we shared that so amused us. But it wasn’t truly laughter at something amusing. Rather, it was relieved laughter at the realization that even if everything else in the world fell away, we had one another.

Falling together just as we’d fallen together through the burning flowers, and falling towards each other as each step of our dance pulled us closer towards that beautiful dream known as love.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi! I have been reading you for a long time and would like to ask you something for the first time… The last message flow to the Lethal Company from the Nutcracker was WILDLY SWEET, however, it hurt me from the bracken that was shot through the lytic…. May I ask the bracken and the reader where the bracken constantly goes behind the reader's back…. JUST TO HUG! Someone from the team warns about the danger and the bracken gently takes the reader in his arms to his lair for even bigger hugs!

Bruh you have no idea how soft i am for brackens hfghhs (when I first started playing LC, they were ALWAYS killing me...but now they just like to pop out and scurry away when I look at them, so I consider us to be pretty chill)

Anyways woe Bracken fluff be upon ye <3

.....

Of all the creatures you've encountered during your time with the Company, Brackens were certainly the most complicated.

Even though there's been countless documents and reports of employees scanning, studying, and dying to these aliens...they were still seldom understood. The data on the terminal said so.

There was one in particular who had such a unique behavior pattern that remained a mystery to you.

And he lived on Experimentation, which was supposedly the "safest" moon to land on and gather scrap from.

Most of the time, however, that was a load of bullshit...as you and your crew had many encounters with aggressive lifeforms such as hoarding bugs, Thumpers, spiders, and turrets that were placed in the most inconvenient spots...

Hell, even an Earth Leviathan showed up and nearly consumed your entire ship.

As of right now, though, you were on-track to making the third profit quota's deadline. So a trip to Experimentation was an order, as you could grab minimal loot and still gain enough leftover money to buy some much-needed ship upgrades and tools.

Or maybe new suits or jack o'lanterns.

None of you were good at managing your budget.

But during this trip, you were less focused on getting loot and more eager to see....a certain someone.

Hopefully, he hasn't forgotten about you or mistook you for another random employee.

While two of your coworkers headed into the facility's main entrance and one stayed behind on the ship, you ascended the stairs leading up to the fire exit--armed with nothing but a flashlight and a walkie-talkie.

[Nearby activity detected!]

"Oh come on...can you be anymore vague?" You huffed, slightly annoyed that your scanner displayed the message before you could even touch the damn door.

"Activity" was awfully broad and could mean literally anything was waiting for you on the other side..

It could be a bunker spider or snare flea waiting to drop down on you and catch you by surprise.

It could be a Hygrodere spreading itself all over the floor, anticipating you setting one foot into it before drowning in its slimy body.

It could even be a simple turret ready to turn you into swiss cheese.

However, there's the possibility that it could also be the one entity here who didn't wanna give you a painful death, and you hoped to god you were right.

So you took a leap of faith and entered.

Surprisingly no danger was immediately present, although you did find a lot of good loot inside the room and smiled. "Oh sweet!" You grabbed the rubber ducky and Rubik's cube in the nearest corner, pocketing them. "This should set us way above-"

"Something's behind you!"

"Huh-?!"

All of the sudden, a pair of large arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you back and causing your oxygen tanks to be pressed against the creature's chest-

Wait.

You only knew one Bracken that did that, and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my gosh, you scared me! You know you can't keep doing that!"

"Krrrrrr.." The entity purred softly, nuzzling his face against your neck as its leaves rustled with happiness.

With a chuckle, you patted his arm affectionately. "I've missed you, too, buddy. I told you I'd be back."

Knowing it was this Bracken, you felt safer than ever. He had a habit of greeting you this way: by sneaking up behind you like the rest of his species typically did, and attacking you.....not by snapping your neck like a twig, but by embracing and nuzzling you.

Of course, nobody in your crew believed that you've got a dangerous alien predator on Experimentation who always waited for you. Who loved you like a dog and would kill a Thumper for you.

If only they could meet him...but then again, he was shy.

"Don't tell me it's that damn Bracken again...did you tame it or something?"

The staticky voice of your coworker over the walkie-talkie startled the poor Bracken out of the hug, as it dropped you and flared its leaves out, wondering where they were.

"Relax, we're cool." You huffed, annoyed that they spooked your friend. "I gotta conserve my battery so...signal me when it gets close to midnight."

"....fine. Just don't die. Over and out."

After switching off the device, you turned back to him and smiled apologetically. "Don't worry. They're far away, so they won't bother us." You removed your helmet for the moment.

He nodded in understanding, crouching down to get a better look at your human features.

For some reason he never minded prolonged eye contact with you--and that was a good thing....otherwise, you would've been dead a long time ago.

You smiled and patted the top of his head, before he suddenly sprung up and scooped you up into his arms, lifting you completely off the ground. "Woah! Hey! Where are we going?" You asked as he carried you out of the room, taking you somewhere further within the facility.

Considering the Bracken knew his way around, you weren't too concerned with getting lost.

On your way to this unknown destination, you spotted a hoarding bug skittering down the hallway, eyeing the brass bell attached to your belt.....only to freeze as the leafy entity glared at it.

Luckily it understood the appropriate time to make eye contact with a Bracken, as it eventually looked away from him and decided to leave for another part of the facility.

It seems most of the creatures were knew who was the alpha.

'Man, whoever's tracking me must be so confused right now..' You thought to yourself as he continued walking.

Eventually you both arrived at a place many employees dubbed the "Bracken Room": a large open illuminated space with yellowish walls that looked out of place in the facility.

After setting you down on the floor, you looked at the Bracken with confusion, wondering why he decided to bring you here....until he brought you into another hug, wanting to sit down and have you in his lap.

You just smiled and wrapped your arms around him, giggling as he tucked his head underneath your chin, wanting to listen to the sound of a human's heartbeat.

Now you understood.

All he wanted was to take you to a quiet, safe place away from all the other monsters and employees. A place where he could have you to himself...at least for a couple more hours, anyways.

You knew the ship wasn't leaving anytime soon, so you didn't mind keeping him company.

While other Brackens are among the top three reasons employees hated their job...this one made you love it.

You feel so lucky, you'll consider buying a lottery ticket if you ever returned to Earth.

[the-s1lly-corner]

How they deal with outliving you

Some angst I've been having on the brain; particularly for the characters that dont age/live for a long time + adding a new character to the base list!!

Obvious CW for loss of a loved one/partner + the grief that comes with it, cause of d3ath across all is by natural causes

S/o is mortal, of course

Slenderman;

Considering the fact that he's an ancient creature that's existed for lord knows how long, it was inevitable that he would outlive you

The concept of you one day being gone was something he already thought about before pursuing you romantically

I feel like out of all the ones on this list, he's the most calm about it, he isn't obviously broken up about the loss

That's not to say he doesn't care; he does. You were very likely his first love; and you will likely be his only love. It'd be a different story if your life was snatched away by someone else; but if it were something natural like for these scenarios, he grieves quietly. In fact, deaths in his woods temporarily slow down during this period

He has a designated area in the woods dedicated to you; flowers, pretty rocks, mementos, etcetera

He does 'guard' over your old home, for a while. That's likely the most drastic thing he'd do; he can't bare the idea of someone taking your place when the wound is still so fresh

Splendorman;

How ironic to add in this new character; someone so bubbly and sweet, with a prompt so... sad..

He doesn't handle it as smoothly as slenderman does; he's an absolute wreck. You were his absolute favorite person in the whole wide world, and just like that, you were gone

Is visibly wilted for a long time after your passing; only really putting on his usual happy face when he's needed

He cries, loudly, and he almost looks lost as he sits; almost as if he's awaiting your return

He understands mortality and the concept of death, but he never prepared himself for this

How could loving someone hurt so bad?

He talks about you to everyone who'll listen; both so he doesn't ever forget you, and so others can hear how amazing he thought you were

I like to think that when you were alive he gave you flowers... daisies, probably... he always keeps a daisy on him; either pinned to his coat or hat

Laughing Jack;

Denial

Denial

Denial. It will take him so so so long to finally come to terms that you'll never be coming back

He sprials; at first selfishly believing that you had purposefully abandoned him.. and given his past with being forgotten; he first responds with rage... before fully caving in on himself

Rumors are spread in town that your old house is haunted; thanks to Jack's howling cries

Hoards a lot of your belongings

It takes him a while to recover; and he's more irritable after all is said and done

Eyeless Jack;

This one's gonna hurt; because Jack is already gloomy and reclusive as is

Unlike the others, he's mortal; however he ages on a slower rate

So while he retained his youth he saw you change

After you're gone, he just

Sits in his cabin for a few days

He doesn't really leave unless his monstrous hunger gnaws away at him enough to prompt him to go into one of his feral episodes

I feel like he'd be similar to slenderman; in terms of the fact he will likely never love again

It feels...

Odd, for him to return to his lonely life, the one he had before you stumbled into his life

Some days he found himself wishing to relive the day he met you; or to wake up one day in your arms

As if this were all some long nightmare

But it never comes

[certifieddilfenjoyer]

Why is Haarlep so different from Raphael - a theory

Hello! Welcome to another theory of mine.

"I am Haarlep. Raphael's personal incubus. Glamoured and transfigured to look like him. I'm a perfect copy(...)"

Hold your horses, sir Wait, they are nonbinary: Hold your horses, noble.

Haarlep states that they are a perfect copy, however there are some major differences in their appearance that could not be caused simply by the visual age difference.*

Haarlep's face has a few major differences:

Lack of darkened skin around the facial hair area (they appear a lot smoother).

The nose is straight and while the tip is shaped similarly, there is no bump across the bridge. They don't even have the cute-angry wrinkles in between the eyes! (Female form has them wrinkles, but the bump is softer)

Maybe it's just me but I was thinking that the upper lip appears to be a bit plumpier.

The face is shorter and because of that, the cheekbones are a lot sharper, Haarlep looks like they had some botox done 💀

The ears appear to be less sharp and shorter (aging hits ears quite hard, but they usually sag and the difference here is with the tip.

Archduchess form does have the roman nose, however the lips are plumpier.

See for yourself below:

And in comparison to Raphael (even to his EA model that has the famous bald spot):

But where is this leading, you may ask?

Well, I am proposing two different perspectives on that:

Haarlep's 'tweaks' point to Raphael's insecurities (a version of theory that my friend @shutexco proposed)

Raphael's devil form resembles MEPHISTOPHELES and he can't stand looking at the actual accurate depiction of his cambion form. Also, if that's the case, take a moment to consider how F-ed up it really is to have Haarlep gifted to him if his father was completely aware of the resemblence. But it would make sense, wouldn't it? Raphael left Cania at some point, but his father made sure he will haunt him all the time.

Have you noticed how Raphael has two portraits of himself that also don't look like him at all?

The second portrait has two horns, so it could be made during the EA, but there is no other similarity.

The first portrait looks like it's wearing some kind of variation of the Helldusk Armor, you can spot the 'Teeth' across the chest, but apart from that and 4 horns, it doesn't look like Raphael at all.

To sum up: the portraits are some kind of a 'vision' of Raphael. For a narcissist he really seems to be avoiding an actual perfect (as in 1to1 accurate) copy of himself.

Also, a few fun facts/smaller theories I'd like to include!

I think he made his own portraits. There are two easels in House of Hope. One behind the Archive (with brushes and cup at the ready and some paint stain spilled below them) and second is on the right hand side of the bed in the boudoir.

Now, the paintings on both easels can be found across Faerun, but the devil portraits are exclusive to HoH and I believe (please fact-check me if you know) that the painting inside Raphael's safe, right above the hoarded treasure, is also exclusive. Raphael is very talented. His diaries are like poetry, full of symbolism, bro is literally a composer, so why not an artist as well? I wouldn't put it past him. And because HoH was made by the head of Mason's Guild, then I guess he had the major influence on the design and I've heard someone say that it's Italian baroque and it's just beautiful.

Here's the Magic the Gathering card of Raphael (I think it was issued in 2022??). It looks more similar to the Statues at House of Hope than the portraits or Haarlep. Oh, btw, I've seen many people saying (mainly on YT and tiktok) that House of Hope is full of Raphael's statues. Not true, those are just cambions

Statues are present not just in HoH but inside Devil's Fee (yes, with both the belt and kneepads)

That's it! Thank you for reading all the way over here, appreciate it so much <3 <3

*Some aging research, specifically for bone structure changes: "As we age we all lose some bone which means that our cheeks flatten, our jaw bone shrinks and our eye sockets get larger. The structure of the face changes so the tissues above the bones will sit differently and so look different." Source "Facial bone loss can lead to retraction of the jawline, which emphasizes jowls and an unstructured neck. Widening eye sockets give your eyes a more sunken appearance and make you look tired. The angle of the bones beneath the eyebrows decreases, which contributes to frown lines on the forehead, droopy eyelids and crow’s feet at the corner of the eyes." Source

So as we can see, Raphael doesn't really suffer from any of those, besides the crow's feet that are imo so gorgeous that I lose my shit, AHFAIHFAJDSKSHA

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi! Would you write Astarion x Rogue!Tav ? I always liked the idea of two rogues together, getting up to a bunch of mischief.

Inspired by my friend @psychicdreamlandpizza whose Tav is Tiefling Rogue

Thanks @rachelle-on-the-run @leomonae @glassphinixfor the ideas! NSWF version is coming later!

Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You are a street urchin, abandoned as a child.

You can only rely on yourself and no one else.

However, such a life didn't make you bitter.

You are a sarcastic rogue with a heart of gold.

You know lockpicking, deception, and many illegal stuff.

Of course, you knew stories of vampires using, the streets as their hunting spot.

You met them twice.

A tiefling woman. who tried to offer you a profitable job.

And an elf. who was selling his body.

You knew who they were and escaped.

Gods, why isn't there a vampire hunter when you need one?

You recognize the said elf at the shipwreck.

Before he manages to jump on you, you knock him down and put a dagger to his throat.

"Just tell me the reason why I shouldn't tell everyone you are a vampire?"

Now it's his dagger against your throat.

"Tell me the reason why I shouldn't tell everyone you are a thief and a criminal?"

Fair enough. It's not like you manage to keep secrets from the party, but you have an arrangement for a while.

You have a lot in common.

Basically, two feral cats, who try to gauge each other's eyes.

You have lockpicking races trying to open a door or a chest.

"I saw it first!", "I got to it first!", "I've been picking locks since before you were born, you little wretch!", "Exactly! Move, old man!"

Sometimes, failing perception checks and having to face a mimic.

You have charisma 20 and can make people love you without putting too much effort.

You can overdrink anyone and anything, but Astarion has to carry you away because you never know when to stop.

You always can get better deals and contracts, but your desire to help people (even for money) often goes sideways.

And it's Astarion's turn to get you out of trouble.

The intimacy of your partner helping you disarm a trap, knowing that a misstep could kill you both but also knowing that you've nothing to worry about because both of you trust the other's skills and steadiness.

And stitching wounds if one of you fucks up.

Sometimes it's you both.

Post-game, you stay together in Baldur's Gate, working as mercenaries and dreaming of earning a fortune.

You have a thing about luxury too, though, you've never had a chance to experience it.

You are two stray cats, finally having home.

The idea of sleeping comfortably in your bed feels weird.

Wearing clothes which are beautiful but not practical, too.

And you know when Astarion brings you something he hasn't bought it.

And you are more than fine with it.

You steal things for him, too.

Mostly, pieces of clothing. Sometimes jewelry. Often - books.

Date nights? How about breaking into someone's mansion whose owner has hoarded pieces of art and hidden them from people?

Goine through private galleries with Astarion giving you a lecture about art?

Or maybe swimming in someone's private pool?

And having sex in the rich people's luxury beds?

There are a lot of ways to have fun if you are two rogues!

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars

[twistedwonderlandsimps]

I've already actually had ideas similar to this but I've never really gotten around to writing it but!

Yuu AU where Yuu comes from a high-fantasy world. All kinds of creatures, whether mythological or not, exist in Yuu's world and aren't limited to humans. Additionally, humans aren't powerless because some of them actually have superhuman abilities and even magic. Kind of like the world building in 'I'm Not This Kind Of Hero' (check it out, it's a classic and makes me feel old) or Medusa and Futakuchi-san by Makise Shaun. Also, now that I think about it, it’s similar to Monster High but the atmosphere’s different. Monster High’s more on the creepy-cool theme while this one’s a more wider and diverse side. Same concept, different font.

Human, elves, dragons, dwarves, nymphs, slimes, fairies, humanoid, non-humanoid, whatever species it is, exists back in Yuu's world. Imagine Yuu belonging to one of these species.

Yuu as a giant merperson like Shirahoshi from One Piece. Of course they aren't in their  true form when they arrive because they won't be able to fit in the Mirror Chambers otherwise. Yuu definitely has the advantage when the Octavinelle arc comes up because they just steamroll past through the twins with a flick of their tail, lmao.

Yuu as a harpy. If they're the type that can lay eggs, imagine having to explain to Deuce that no, the egg they laid wasn't fertilized so it wasn't going to turn into a baby, calm down. Oooo, now that I think about it, variations of harpies! Owls, crows, eagles, everything! Regardless, Harpy!Yuu probably puffs up threateningly every time Crowley's somewhere in the vicinity.

Yuu as a dragonkin. Are they the Western type with the more lizard features? Are they the Eastern type with the more noodle-like features? Are they able to completely turn human or are they the type who constantly has their draconic features out? Probably either sees Malleus as a threat because of territorial and hoarding instincts or tries to hoard Malleus themselves because kin instincts. Well, depending on the type of dragon Yuu's gonna be, that is. Some dragons are solo creatures while others are more social.

Yuu as a slime. Whether they're more humanoid or just a round ball of goo, this Yuu's just vibing. Virtually zero damage can be done to them since they always just reform unless they're met with their weakness. Of course, this also depends on what kind of slime Yuu's gonna be since there's like a ton of slime variants out there. Some are infused elementally, some are infused with something else like metal, poison, acid, whatever. Oooo, just imagine a tiny ball of blob that can fit on the palm of your hand. This Yuu would probably be used as a stress ball a lot, that is if Yuu allowed it. Imagine a Yuu slime variant that doesn’t speak but instead wiggles to communicate. 

Yuu as a shadow creature. Which when faced off against the overblots just utterly decimates them immediately because not only are they a creature of the shadows, they are the shadows themselves. Kind of like Pride from Fullmetal Alchemist minus the eyes. Just imagine seeing your housewarden overblot and having this ink creature menacingly looming behind them and then see an even bigger creature appear and loom behind them. 

Yuu as an android, kinda like Ortho. I feel like this Yuu is the type to give Ortho a gun and be like, “Go, commit crimes, child.” This Yuu is probably a walking, talking military-grade bioweapon. Was definitely a big headache for Idia in STYX because Yuu hacked and overrode the systems.

Yuu as an arachne (spider-human hybrid). They just arrived and someone in the Mirror Chambar already fainted, frothing at the mouth (It was totally Jamil). They get Ramshackle and was like, ‘Score!’ and now it’s full of spiderwebs everywhere. It looks even more haunted than before, they’ve made themselves completely home. I don’t know why but I imagine this Yuu being the cheerful and energetic type.

Of course, let’s not forget the possibilities for the human variants of Yuu. Mad scientist Yuu who likes creating androids and robots. Probably has these tiny drone things hovering around them that shoot out lasers and practically doesn’t step outside Ramshackle because they’re too busy trying to build stuff until Crowley forces them out. Magic user Yuu who, well, uses magic. Probably doesn’t need any wand to cast spells and their magic is probably more versatile than the magic in Twisted Wonderland because they virtually have no limits in casting whatever aside from their limited mana.

Anyway, High Fantasy!Yuu.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Sorry if this has been asked before, but what's your process for selecting songs to create polls for? I have an extremely wide music interest range, but I feel like even I would have massive blindspots for a lot of stuff, just because of the sheer amount of music that's available, difficulties with search engines, and the user-reinforcing nature of algorithms on most sites.

So far, I'm extremely impressed. One particularly-niche artist I love has appeared on here before, which absolutely made my day. If there's a random-selection tool you're using, perhaps selecting from a massive, community-built database of song listings, then I'd be very interested in knowing about it. If not, then once again I'm really impressed by the range you've been finding so far, just based on genres alone.

Hope you're having a great one!

asfkjfdhr i just really love music? :'D it's my autistic trait, I think.

I have siblings who are up to 20 years older than me so I grew up with their music as well as my parents' music while the other kids my age had never listened to that stuff but i made them, i got to listen to music from "the other side of the world" through foreign family members, I was pretty much glued to MTV, and Eurovision can be quite a good source as well. And then there's the movie soundtracks....!!!! and there were a few anime years as well with all that music, too. It all have been a great way to expand the interest range without even being aware of it, i think? There have been some fantastic new discoveries to me amongst the submitted songs but i've also been lazy and chosen submissions that's already been in my mp3 collection. I am slow with working my way through the submitted songs but there's gonna be more of them, I promise!

idk i just thought this whole music hoarding thing was normal when growing up and then I realized it wasn't and I guess I've finally found a use for it now lmao 😂

The process of picking songs pretty much goes like "I love this one! And this! I don't love this but it's cool and different so in it goes! But I love this! And this! And thi- no wait that is too similar, I'll hold it for a while. And this! Oh and a submitted one! And this!"

That said there's only one song i've actively searched out and it was by googling "2024 number one" for something brand new from this year.

Which artist of yours was it that was posted? :D

Thank you so much, and I hope you have a great day too!! 💖💖💖

[thegnomelord]

was thinking about drawing Ifrit from "Hell has a basement floor" and had some headcanons on his appearance.

on one hand i was thinking to make him tall and burly, built big to store all the mana and power he has, make him built like a volcano.

on the other.... what if and hear me out.... Ifrit.... skinny. tall and gangly, long limbs, underfed, outlines of bones poking out from underneath the skin, sunken eyes for that extra unsettling factor. besides magic does have a cost. maybe it's just your body that needs to be exchanged.

now i thought of the second hc because tall and skinny isn't exactly associated with the kind of brute force Ifrit has but he's still strong even if his lifestyle is gonna put him in an early grave. now imagine when he's finally part of tf 141 they notice that he's not very well in the food and weight department for his height and the amount of energy he spends so... they start feeding him (especially Price and Soap because protect and care hoard/pack)......

i've also been getting into the trope where characters gain weight as a sign of health and living a better life. so yeah tell me what you think

and maybe share your hcs on Ifrits appearance because i don't want to butcher your creation on accident

Okay 1: you have no idea how happy it makes me when I hear ppl want to draw fan art of my stuff :DD, internally I'm like that dog video where the dogs happily tapping his paws lol bc he can't contain his excitement lol. And also yeah, I'm a huge sucker for the trope and your little idea with Price amd Soap tickles my brain.

And 2: man you did some mind reading bc your hcs are actually very close to what I've made up for the lore of the whole au. While I want to overall leave Ifrit's body type ambiguous to give readers some space to imagine themselves in Ifrit's place, Ifrit is 100% underweight with more of a volleyball/basketball player type build, as mages focus on stamina and endurance rather than raw strength bc that can be augmented with magic. Also has stretch marks because their weight fluctuates a lot lol

Okay lore spoilers so if y'all want to find out through the story skip this-

Okay so— magic is increadibly taxing on the body, not just by eating away flesh and creating mage marks as a Mage's power grows, but just by simply existing inside the body magic stresses the body. Because fundamentally magic is toxic to humans, and even mages who have the needed adaptations to utilise magic are no better than our ancestors when they were first learning to stand on two legs.

The best metaphor I have for magic is chemo drugs. They're used to kill a cancer but they also damage healthy cells. Magic, similarly, damages the body by existing inside it, but also is used by mages to heal the damage as soon as it happens. This uses a lot of calories and also why mages have really irregular weights, losing 10kg in a week isn't an uncommon thing.

Someone possessing even half of Ifrit's capabilities would need to eat 3x that of a regular human of the same height and weight. Mages are literally Shaggy from Scooby Doo lol. And that's only to get the bare minimum their body needs, caloric need becomes much bigger if they're active like Ifrit is. So you'll find that many mages, but especially military ones, are underweight and need to regularly get Iv fluids and nutrients to help their body recover from using magic. They also need to eat a lot of highly caloric food, which isn't easy when one of the most common side effects of magic use is puking your guts up.

Most military mages don't reach 30. The average life expectancy is around 25, with active duty (i.e. constant missions and daily magic use) mages lasting on average 3-4 years before their body basically breaks down, but they can last longer depending on how conservatively they use magic.

Now, knowing all that, Ifrit has been actively using strong magic on par with military mages since they were 14-15 years old and while they're not the healthiest, they're healthy as a horse when compared to most mages. The reason behind their continued survival — their mage marks.

[spookwyrdie]

Spellbound

pairing: sub!Han x dom!reader

word count: 4.8k

summary: It's his first time at the goth club, Han fidgets with the ring on his collar. He came for one thing - a night in the dungeon with you, the Countess.

genre: SMUT, goth club AU, gentle femdom

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, gentle femdom, semi-public sex, BDSM, leather, spanking, impact play, wax play, no penetration, porn with no plot, descriptions of subspace

18+ only, minors DNI

a/n: I didn't proofread this one, so if you notice any mistakes, no you didn't lol. Han has been coming for my neck recently, a full blown bias wrecker menace.

photo credit: collar

(⁄ ⁄•��ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I've only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

The bass hits Han in the chest the minute he walks through the doors, a droning synth heavy in the air, a smoke machine fuzzing out the flashing lights on the dance floor. It feels like he’s walked into another world, a darker, seductive world, filled with black clothes, pale makeup, and an air of mystery. There are bodies pulsing on the dance floor, moving like they’re casting spells to the thick wall of sound that the DJ has built. The whole room feels like a heartbeat that overtakes his own, swayed by the power of the crowd.  

As he makes his way towards the bar, he stumbles a little, his big shit-kicker boots a little unwieldy with his anxiety on the rise. He brushes himself off, his outfit feeling a bit foreign on his body but so exhilarating at the same time. Layering different types of sheer tops, he settled on some combo of mesh and fishnet, under a frayed black sweater barely held together by threads. His pants are a tight leather, and his big boots help him feel a little more solid on his feet. He accessorized with the secret hoard of jewelry he owns, never really having a great excuse to break out a lot of these pieces. The final addition is his collar, a sleek leather with an O-ring at the base of his throat and a few chains for decoration. He bought it for himself, accepting that if he wants to wear one, he’s the only one who’d buy it.  

He’s on edge, his black polished fingers fidget with the choker around his neck, the heavy metal ring in the middle clanking against the chain. It gives him something to occupy his hands to keep them from shaking. He’s been wanting to come to the goth club ever since Chris showed him the pictures he took from the last kink night. It’s a type of lifestyle he’s been drawn to for years now, never really working up the courage to cross the threshold of the night club until now.  

Truthfully, he came to see you. He’s drawn to you like a fly to a web, and you’re the spider waiting in the center. It’s like he can feel you in his veins already. The photos that Chris showed him had been rolling around Han’s mind like an obsidian marble, leaving sooty trails across his thoughts for weeks now.  

~~~ 

“One of the areas they have is a dungeon,” Chris said while flicking through photos of different people in fishnets, lace, leather, all caught in a moment of entranced movement. It looked magical to him. He caught a glimpse of you in the back of one of the photos, standing behind a body bent over and restrained to a piece of leather furniture. You were holding a riding crop in the shape of a heart in one hand and the other had a fistful of the restrained person’s hair tangled in your fingers. “You have to sign a liability waiver, but it’s open to anyone of legal age who consents.” 

“Who is that?” Han asks, trying to keep the tremble of desire out of his voice. 

“Her? Oh, that’s Y/n. She goes by Countess in the scene. She’s one of the dommes that works these events.” Chris says. “Hang on, I have a ton of photos of her. She’s great in front of the camera.” 

He opens a whole other folder labeled ‘Countess’ and Han is awestruck by you. In one, the crowd surrounds you as a man lays prone on the floor with your giant platform boot on his head. In another with a woman strung up from the ceiling with red ropes with you moving to slap against her thigh with a flog. Even more with your face close to a different figure chained to a piece of leather furniture, your hand picks their head up from their hair to look them in the eye. Their eyes are locked onto yours, in a state of undiluted rapture. He’s fixated on your facial expression – teasing, mean, but full of affection. He feels his heart drop into his stomach at the thought of that kind of attention from you being focused on him.  

“She’s... amazing,” Han says, a little breathlessly. “Do you know her well?” 

“Yeah, she’s like always working at the kink nights,” Chris replied. He turns to Han, waggling his eyebrows, “Why? You interested?” 

“N-no! Nothing like that.” 

“Okay, sure,” Chris says, turning back to his computer. “Kink nights are the last Saturday of every month... Not that you’re interested.”  

~~~ 

Han moves through the crowd, bodies swaying and grinding against his as he pushes past them. The atmosphere is shrouded with the ambience of fog and heavy synth music.  

In the back corner, there’s a person at a small table with a clipboard in front of a curtained doorway. He saunters over slowly, heart beating in his throat from nerves. The tiny goth girl with Siouxsie eye makeup looks him over with a smile. “You look a little lost, sugar. Are you here for the dungeon?” 

“Y-yes,” Han gulps. “Is there...like, paperwork?” 

She giggles and holds up a clipboard, “You’re sweet. Yes, there’s some risks you have to look over and sign off on. Oh, I’ll need a photo ID and you’ll need to leave your phone in a little locker up front here. No photos or videos are allowed in the space.”  

Han takes the clipboard from the bubbly little goth girl and starts scanning the page. His eyes go wide at the types of sexual acts he may encounter, “including, but not limited to” all types of bondage, impact, pain, suspension, penetration, masturbation, etcetera etcetera. He gulps, signs his name on the dotted line, and gives the goth girl a shaky smile. “Is... Countess working tonight?” 

“Countess is definitely working tonight,” she says with a sly smile. “She’s only taking individuals on in the private space this evening. It hasn’t been super busy tonight so you’re in luck.” 

The thick fabric of the curtain brushes past him as he enters the dungeon. Immediately, the room is darker, quieter. The bass still thumps through the walls but it’s low enough to have a conversation. He looks around, there’s a group in front of a small stage where a masked rigger ties up and suspends a woman from her hips. One knee is to her chest and the other is bent behind her, more rope connecting her ankle to her braided hair. Her arms are tied behind her back, her body perfectly balanced in this dangling pose. She slowly spins from the place where the ropes hang. The look on her face is a meditative euphoria, full trust in the hands that tie the knots.  

Han is frozen in place, watching the spectacle. He licks his lips in a painful longing. He wants that kind of trust, that kind of floating in space feeling. The only experience he has is from the porn he’s watched and the occasional self-restraint and impact, but it definitely doesn’t feel right. He wants to be at the mercy of someone else’s hands, and he’s really hoping that someone could be you.  

At that moment, a low, sultry voice murmurs in his ear, “Is that something you’d be interested in, little one?” 

Yanked out of his focus on the rope scene in front of him, he spins on his heel. There you are, clad in a leather skirt, fish nets, lace, and a chest harness, showing off your ample curves. You have sweet eyes lined with sharp eye makeup and a dark burgundy stain on your lips. If someone asked him to describe a succubus, he’d describe you in this outfit.  

You look him over, the powerful and discerning gaze he saw in those photos in front of him, that focus pressing into him. He leans back, trying to steady his breath. You step further into his personal space, the toes of your platforms almost touching the tips of his boots. He breathes you in, a heady combination of sandalwood, tobacco leaf, and something sweet fills his senses and he feels a warmth pooling in his lower belly.  

You smile, your teeth gleaming in the low light, “You’re the guy Chris told me about, right?”  

“Chris talked to you?” 

“Yes,” you lean closer, face inches from his. “He mentioned a friend of his was going to show up tonight looking like a scared stray dog. Told me to take care of you.” 

His eyes flutter from your gaze to your plush lips. He’s rooted to the spot, held in this moment by your gaze. The way your teeth look sharp in the light as you grin at him makes his knees weak. You look like you could eat him alive, and he’d thank you for it.  

Your eyes drift over his face, flicking down to the collar he’s wearing. Reaching up with one sharp, painted fingernail, you trail over the O-ring on his collar sitting in the hollow of his throat. 

“Do you belong to someone, stray?” 

“W-what?” 

Your eyes meet his, gaze piercing into his own, “Did someone give this to you as a gift of ownership?” 

His eyes trail down to where your finger lightly grazes over his choker. “No,” he gulps, “I got it for myself because no one has ever thought to get one for me.” 

You study him for a moment, taking in his layered distressed shirts, leather pants and boots. Your eyes rest on that O-ring on his throat as you gently hook your index finger on it. “So, you’re a lost little dog looking for a leash.” 

Han gulps again, suddenly his pants feel a little too tight. “Y-yes, Countess.” 

A slow smile spreads on your face again and your eyes light up with something hot and piercing. “Good boy.” 

With that, you tug on the ring of his collar, pulling Han’s body off balance and towards your face. “Follow me,” you purr against his lips. Your tongue darts out to kitten lick his bottom lip. Han’s eyes flutter closed in disbelief. Heavy arousal blooms in his chest and he feels his cock twitch in his constricting pants.  

You turn, index finger still hooked on his collar, and march him to another room. A thick velvet curtain brings him into a warmly lit space, a plush, leather clad bench in the center of the smaller room. It looks similar to a small picnic table, one main middle support with two supports dropped lower, the surface a well-oiled burgundy leather. There’s a set of cuffs attached to each of the legs at the bottom, so a body could lay there and be cinched down in a vulnerable position. There’s a couch in the corner and small table on the side with an open trunk, Han peeks inside. There’s rope, paddles, a flogger, some red candles, and more. He stops breathing for a second, his arousal thumping through his chest. 

You turn to him, “So, what are you hoping will happen, little stray?” 

“I-I’m not sure,” Han stammers out. 

“Bullshit,” you say matter-of-factly. “No one purchases a collar like that without some sort of craving. What do you want out of this?” 

He pauses, mulling over the question while you appraise him with your eyes, finger still toying with the ring at his throat. He gulps audibly, “I want you, Countess. I want you to hurt me.” 

“Hurt you how, little stray?” 

~~~ 

Han is practically on all fours on this leather bench. His legs are spread over the top part of the bench, knees and hands on the pads below. His weight rests on his naked torso and in this position his half hard cock in nestled between his body and the bench, pressing against the leather of his pants. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles are thick black leather, he pulls against his restraints, feeling them bite into his skin. He can still move a little, still squirm around, but not much more than that. It’s not like he could see what was to come either; he can only lay his head to one side, his cheek flat against the leather of the bench. His heartbeat pounds through him in this position, the rush of adrenaline from the nerves and the promise of the pleasure to come has him quivering. 

You circle him like a predator with its prey, dragging a hand idly across his body as you move. He twitches under your touch when you graze over his ass in his leather pants. When you get to where his face is, you crouch down to his eye level.  

“If I ask you for a color, what do you say?” 

“Green for all good, yellow for slow down and reassess, red for full stop,” he replies. 

“Good,” you murmur, your eyes locked on his lips. You flick your gaze up to his, a pleading look in his big brown eyes, and press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “We’ll start with the riding crop.” 

He feels a hot bolt of desire shoot through his spine at the mere thought and he squirms against the bench, trying to relieve some of the pressure building in his cock. The leather of the heart shaped riding crop in your hand trails down his back from the base of his neck to ass. All his nerves light up, muscles spasming under the gentle contact. He writhes more, and a swift smack comes down on his ass suddenly. He grunts in surprise, that hot bolt of desire fizzling into something more tingly spreading throughout his body.  

 You tap the crop along his ass and his thighs in a percussive beat, not too hard, just warming up the area. Han feels you pause for a second before another smack comes down where his thigh meets his ass. His hips jerk forward, and he mewls at the sting of the leather. The pain abates to a glow, like his skin is electrified yet sedate. He can feel his cock throbbing underneath him, his hips slowly grinding into the bench. 

Your hand rests on the small of his back, caressing the area lightly as another bolt of hot arousal burns through him. 

 “Only two spanks in and you’re already humping the bench?” 

Han can only whine in response. 

You lean down towards his face again, your scent enveloping him. His eyebrows knit together as he meets your gaze, begging for more. 

“Color?" 

“GREEN!” he moans, hips gyrating again. 

You smile again, eyes crinkling at the corners. His enthusiasm is palpable, filling the small room. You stand and continue with the riding crop, tapping, pausing, then SMACK! The way you change the length of time you take to pause makes his mouth water, never knowing exactly when the crop will come down on him again, no way to anticipate it.  

You get up and walk to the other side of the room, picking up a new toy. When you return, you run the suede of the flogger down his spine, he sighs as his body convulses. Saliva pools under his cheek where it dribbles out of his mouth, already too far gone to notice or care. You pick up the flogger off his skin and start to spin it in circles, slow at first then picking up speed, the tails coming into light contact with his lower back, ass, and thighs. The rhythmic impact against his skin both sharp and soothing with your expert guidance. Every few spins, you put more force into the downswing, slapping the suede against his skin, the extra sting has Han keening. He can’t control his hips anymore, they are thrusting against the bench again, searching for any friction to heighten the sensation he’s feeling against his body. His back, ass, and thighs feel like they’re radiating from this stimulation. His skin feels like it’s buzzing all over, he’s outside his own mind, beginning to put that trust in your capable hands.  

The flogging stops and your hand rests on the small of his back again and his hips still. Han feels like he’s floating 3 feet above where his body is chained down. The one thing grounding him at this moment is the warmth of your hand rubbing soothing circles into the small of his back. Every small caress you give him makes him feel like an instrument and you’re plucking his strings, making his skin sing. He can barely hear you, too wrapped up in his own mind, but he can hear your voice cooing over him. Your face is down by his again, checking in on him.  

“Color?” 

“G-greeeeeeen...” he moans out, a dopey smile stretching across his face.  

“Good boy,” you say, and press another small kiss to his forehead. Before he can lift his head to try and chase your lips, you are crossing the room once again. Both hands are full when you return - one holds a leather leash with a bolt snap hook and the other a small red candle and lighter. “Look what I found just for you.” 

The leash is black with a lining of red around the perimeter and three small hearts embossed on the looped handle. The candle is a vibrant red color with hardened wax drips running down the sides. You set those on the ground while your hands move to the front of the bench by Han’s head, lifting him gently by the chin and looking in his eyes. Your fingers massage his scalp, the points of your nails sending shivers down his spine. 

“We’re gonna play with a new leash, little stray. And some wax. Color?” 

The way he’s looking at you like you’re shining down above him, he’s speechless at your calm demeanor. The only giveaway that you’re in any way affected is a blush creeping along the apples of your cheeks. 

“Green,” he whispers, breathlessly. He’s panting at just the sight of you, the only thing in his vision he can focus on. You smile down at him, leaning forward until your lips brush against his. He must be imagining it, but you look almost shy for a moment.  

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Please-” he groans, trying to reach up from his secured arms. You slant your lips on his, giving him a sweet, slow kiss. He responds in kind, opening his mouth, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entry. The mood shifts from a chaste moment to something more primal as your tongues meet, sliding over one another. He hopes you can taste the desperation on his tongue. 

Your finger curls around the ring of his collar again, pulling it against his skin, reminding him of who’s in control. You pull away from him, sighing. You pull his collar and spin it around his neck gently, making sure the ring is positioned facing his back. Han lets out a whimper, almost nuzzling into your hand. You pick up the leash on the floor and clip the bolt snap onto the ring. Giving the leash a quick tug to ensure it’s connected; he whines at the pulling sensation. 

You come back into his vision and lock eyes with him. “Little stray, I’m going to be pulling on this leash while we play, okay? If you’re not able to speak but you want me to stop, I want you to knock against the wood of the bench. Can you do that for me?”  

He nods, bouncing his head against the leather of the bench, using his knuckles to rap against the wood under one of his cuffs.  

“Good. Color?” 

“Green,” he giggles, blushing under your tender care. 

You stand, hands pushing your skirt up to hook your thumbs on your panties. Han’s jaw drops open as your panties drop to the floor in front of him. You step out of them gingerly and grab the wax candle and lighter off the floor. Your body moves around him and all he can hear is the flicking sound of the lighter. He gasps as he feels you move to straddle him on the bench, settling your weight against his leather clad ass. He screws his eyes shut, feeling his sensitive cock leak at the new pressure, trapped between his body and the bench. Your hand runs up his spine, nails scraping lightly over the delicate skin. He can feel the heat of your body as you lean forward to clasp the leash attached to his collar. You run the leather down his spine, tracing over the red blossoming on his flesh from the flogging.  

The leash pulls against his collar, and he cranes back as far as he can, keening into your touch. You’re not even pulling tight, the barest amount of tension in the leash makes him feel possessed. It’s a feeling of being owned, overpowered, at the beck and call of a master. His hips shudder under you as he presses his ass against your cunt, drawing a moan from your throat. The flash of joy radiates through him at the noise you make.  

“Good boy,” you growl at him.  

The first sting comes from the wax dripping on his back, muscles tensing at the rush of sharp pain. Another hot drip of wax makes him lurch forward with a squeak as more fall against his spine. He’s dizzy from concentrating, trying to anticipate where the next drop will fall and being surprised every time. Han’s breaths are fast and shallow as he focuses on keeping his hips still underneath you, trying to be good for you. 

It’s a lot more difficult when you start slowly thrusting against him with each drop of wax from the candle, bearing down on his hips, making his constricted leaking cock rub against the bench below him. Your hips start to move at a pace matching the low bass thudding in the other room. He moans at your movement, the pressure and the friction almost too much, but just enough to send him into a spiral.  

Your hand on the leash pulls against his neck as you ride your hips against his ass, your wetness slipping over the leather of his jeans. The seam of his pants rubs up against your folds just right to drive you absolutely insane. With each drop of wax, each tug, each thrust, Han meets your cunt with a cry as he pushes back against your clit. You buck against him with fervor, chasing your own high, slamming his hips, dripping wax on his back and dripping your own essence on his leather.  

His moans pitch up, your hips forcing his to thrust against the leather bench, the recoil of him pushing his ass back up towards you, the rhythm you two find together like this has him rocketing towards his release. Above him, you’re grunting out praise, “Such a fucking good boy, fuck.” Soon you are lost in your own pleasure, just staccato moans pouring out of you, so sweet in Han’s ears. 

Your body stops moving above him for a split second as you cry out, your orgasm shuddering through you, hips jerking forward, riding it out on the seam of his pants. Han hears you whining, sounding nearly as fucked out as he does. As you whimper, you pull the leash tight, Han slams his eyes shut as he lets out a strangled moan, leaning into the feeling of the blood flow being constricted. Your hips still rocking against him, you’re more focused on the pressure and rhythm of his hips, watching his body bounce against yours. The aftershocks of your orgasm shake through you still, panting hard. 

“Are you going to cum for me, sweet little stray?”   

Han is outside his own mind, like his soul is trying to leave while his neglected cock slides against the leather of pants, the sensation of being caught between your cunt and the bench has him jerking his hips faster. The tip of his cock is so sensitive, he feels every thrust of your hips in his entire body, his only tether to the earth at this moment is you and the way you’re fucking him into a bench.  

His eyes roll to the back of his head as he cums, his back arching, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he feels the warm spurts make a mess of the leather caging his hard cock. He can’t breathe, not from the pressure of the collar on his neck, but from the sheer ecstasy pulsing through his body. It’s never felt like this before, his skin erupts in goosebumps as the feeling ricochets around his chest. The pain and the euphoria are unmatched as he collapses back down the bench, spent and reeling in the moment.  

“Good boy,” you say in his ear as you slide off his body and onto your wobbly legs. Han is still floating in the air, barely aware of what’s going on around him. You crouch down to undo his wrists and ankles from the cuffs, massaging the skin underneath gently, pressing small kisses to the sensitive skin. The buckle of his collar comes loose under your nimble fingers, and you ease it off his neck. You place your hand in his to see if he squeezes it, but all he can manage is a twitch of his fingers and a groan. While he’s still fucked out in this prone position, you grab some aloe gel and tenderly apply some to his back, peeling away the wax drippings from his skin. You massage his reddening skin, and murmur soft praises at him as he comes back into his body.  

Han moves to get up off the bench, you hold out an arm to steady him. His whole body is wobbly, so you steer him towards the couch. You sit with him and wrap him up in your arms. He collapses back into you, his head resting against your shoulder, feeling warm and safe in your embrace. Pressing little kisses to his neck and head, you rub little circles into his scalp while he comes down.  

His words are a little slurred while he tries to form a sentence. “I n-never...” he starts, pausing to take a deep breath. “I never expected it to be that good.” 

You smile into his hair, pressing slow kisses into him, running your hands down his arms. “It can be even better than that.” 

He turns his head to look at you, “how?” 

“Sweetie, your pants didn’t even come off.” 

His eyes bug out of his head, and he looks down. “I made... a mess.” 

You grab his face and chuckle, “So did I, you got me more riled up than I expected.” 

“I did?” 

“Yeah, I never do what I just did with clients at the club. You were just so responsive, all those little noises, and SUCH a good listener.” You say this with adoration brimming in your voice. You kiss him again, this time unhurried, lingering, just to learn his shape a little better. The bass still thumps through the walls as Han’s heart thumps against you. You pull back from the kiss, searching his eyes, “How are you feeling?” 

“Good. So relaxed,” he says as he stretches, sitting up. 

“Good. Go grab my panties for me.” 

~~~ 

The back of the wooden cafe chair was rubbing up against his tender back, reminding Han of his wild weekend. Each little twinge made him think of you, of the noises you made, the control you wielded. The flashbacks to that night flip through his head as his hands toy with the lid of his coffee, just like your fingers toyed with the ring on his collar. The memory of the way you yanked on his collar is vivid as he spaces out, his chest constricting. He reaches up to brush his hand over his throat, imagining it’s your hand that grazes over his skin. 

“Still back in the dungeon, huh?” Chris says as he slumps down in the chair opposite, a knowing smirk on his face. Han jolts out of the memory, a blush painting his cheeks.  

“Sorta,” he says, with a coy smile playing at his lips. 

“Well, you certainly got Y/n’s attention,” Chris muses. “She told me to give you this.” 

Chris slides a black business card across the table. It’s simple, the card stock heavy, the letters a bright red, a little heart embossed in the corner.  

“She says that if you’re interested, she wants to meet with you again. Something about adopting a stray?” 

[twst-drabbles]

Leona 26

Summary: Leona was napping in a fancy hourglass you found by the time Falena came around to pick him up. You are not about to give this thing up.

(Been a while since I wrote about him. Not gonna lie, I was originally going to do something sensual with him but eh, cute is now on the brain.)

While you mentally labeled this an hourglass, that was only one half of the structure you know have on your desk. On this shared golden stand shaped like a staircase was both an hourglass and a snowglobe. You just found it discarded right behind a tree while you were walking home in Sam's shop. It was a pretty piece, one that you knew you would never be able to afford, so you took it home.

The hourglass, unfortunately, was partially missing a piece of the top that kept all the sand in place. What little was left was this pretty black sand that had flecks of white and gold. It was nice and you wanted to see if you could do some maintenance on it so you could use it for a little bit.

But, well, things happen and Leona ended up finding it. He took a sniff, spent a good while just, zoning out at the large fantastical kingdom inside the snowglobe, then spotted the opening the hourglass.

"Umm," Falena scratched the back of his head as you showed him your new object, "Is Leona…" His whisper trailed off as he pointed to the hourglass filled partially with golden sand, fully replacing all the black sand that was once inside.

You nodded, stepped back, then turned it over.

However, instead of the sand obeying gravity, it pulled the rest of it sand like an exposed tail. You even shook it a little but the sand swirled around and pulsed in protest.

"He doesn't want to get out," you deadpanned, "I've been trying for an hour already."

"Did you lure him with food?" Falena reached into the folds of his clothes, ruffling around for something. You bet he keeps all sorts of snacks for Cheka to snack on. And other little toys, like those water arcade games.

"I tried," you flipped it back over and Leona partially stuck his sand self out the top again, clearly relaxing in the face of your plight.

"Ah, well…" Mr. Falena got a little awkward. He stuck out his hands. "I could just take it?" The word 'take' sounded very unsure in his mouth, like he wasn't sure if you'll allow it or not.

You just sigh with a little grumble at the end. You really don't want Leona to claim another one of your little knick-knacks. He's been doing that a lot.

You old fridge? His now. That insulated cup you had for when you're working on the plant nymph garden? His now. The blanket, the umbrella, your old wallet, and even that book you were just reading the other day.

So uh, safe to say that you really don't want to part with this.

"How about this," Falena took a step back since you were unwilling to give this thing up, "He can stay here for the night and if Cheka misses him too much, I can bring him right over for a visit. Just until he finally gets out of there."

Ah, you're not exactly the best at handling kids, and most of your pets aren't exactly kid friendly, but Falena said it's a visit, not babysitting duty.

"Yeah, I can do that."

Is it petty to want to keep this one thing out of Leona's little paws? Probably. But oh well, you have your things and Leona has his. Ruggie already has a hoarding problem and you really don't want that habit to ingrain itself in Leona as well. Doesn't help that Jack really looks up to Leona, so your little winter cloud of a pet would start hoarding things too.

…but also you really like this neat thing. You don't want to give it up.

Well, you're going to have to get some snacks ready for Cheka. That boy has been growing nonstop and he loves to eat.

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

what’s your opinion on the brothers gracchi

First off: I sincerely love that you wrote "brothers Gracchi." Like the Brothers Grimm. Or sister-in-laws. Or Attorneys General. It'd be perfectly normal in a language with noun-adjective agreement, which enables a looser word order. But English is held together with duct tape and Cheeto dust, and word order ignore we sometimes anyway.

Ahem. Linguistics hat off. To me the most interesting thing about the Gracchi is how murky their story really is. Were they reformers standing up for the little guy against greedy aristocrats? Were they the greedy aristocrats, hoarding unprecedented power and going against the spirit of the republic? Was one brother genuine and the other unscrupulous? You can justify several different interpretations!

Part of the issue is that our accounts come through the lenses of later writers who had their own political agendas. They might glorify or demonize the Gracchi depending on their own rhetorical needs. And modern writers often project our own values onto that. I've seen people try to frame them as proto-socialist heroes while ignoring the Gracchi's support of the Roman slave economy. But I can't judge those folks too harshly. The Gracchi story is a roller-coaster, and it's hard not to take a side.

I did a longer write-up of Tiberius Gracchus a while back that boiled down to "both sides probably fucked up in some ways, but it's hard to be sure." I'm similarly hedgey about Gaius.

I also think there's a lot of unexplored territory for the Gracchi in fiction! You could write a great story that raises questions, unanswered, about the nature of power, and what makes a man good or bad. Make the readers unsettled; make them think.

[lollytea]

Just want to bring up a question about the Grom curse thing, this implies that a curse can be made by can be made per se by strong emotions. This also may have given Belos the idea of "the dangers of wild magic" he could've conveniently corrupted people who posed a great threat to him. just a thought

Oooooh!!

I'm hesitant to call Grometheus' fate a curse because I can't say for certain if that's what it is. TOH is kinda vague about how curses in this universe work or what defines them.

It's never clarified if Belos' problem is technically a curse like he claims or just some stupid shit he did to himself, without considering the possibility that the glyph/palisman magic might be uncooperative with his (at the time) human body.

I don't imagine that what Grometheus endured was a traditional curse like Eda but rather, something more similar to Darius (and maybe Belos a bit too)

Alright so, this is just a headcanon but I've always figured that this talent Darius has for shifting his whole body, flesh, bones and all, into goo mode wouldn't be like. Standard abomination magic stuff. This track is the study of controlling goo, not becoming goo. So, the stuff he's pulling off here is near impossible for any normal witch.

So, in my opinion, Darius is simply not normal. He was born with a capacity for magic that is far beyond that of a normal witch and equates to being extremely powerful. Anyway his mastery over abominations became so natural to him, as simple as breathing that his physical body went through an innate "transfusion" of sorts where he basically became one with his magic.

Cases like these are very rare and usually only crop up if a witch has bonded their soul to one specific area of magic. So if goo is what's making Darius' bile sac overheat, goo is what he's gonna be.

So, for example, another born powerful witch like Eda, who is a jack of all trades, wouldn't have developed something like this (even if her curse hadn't hindered her.) because there's too many spells and techniques being practised but no outright obsession that is being mastered enough to completely dilute her bloodstream.

Well, possibly. It's unknown if a witch can achieve this form with mixed magic. The condition is rare enough that not a lot of data has been collected yet.

Giuls and me have been exploring the same idea with Willow

(There's a lot more in-depth biological details about how this whole thing works but Giuls will probably talk more about all that at some point)

Anyway!! Grometheus!!

So, what I imagine is that Darius is an example of a successful fusion between physical form and magic, while Grometheus was an example of the same thing Gone Terribly Wrong.

See, in Darius' case, he managed to achieve a perfect union between his own sense of identity and the magic that had become part of him.

But in Grometheus' case, that did not happen.

They began as person who collected the essence of others for their research. They hoarded fears inside their own mind for years and years, maybe even decades. That's thousands and thousands of souls that they stole those fears from.

That's far too much for a normal witch to handle. But Grometheus was not a normal witch. They were powerful enough to endure it. Or at least they thought.

It was too much. Far too much. It was like deathly bacteria damaging everything inside of you. A slow and steady rot. Think food that's gone bad that's been there for months. That was the magic inside of Grometheus.

I dont imagine that this corruption was directly caused by Grometheus' negative emotions. But rather, those emotions weakened their resistance to the swarming fear that was consuming them. Maybe if they had been stronger or happier or had people around who reminded them why they were alive, they could have realized what was happening before it was too late.

There still would have been long lasting damages. But they may have been able to find the balance between themself and the magic and kept their identity intact.

But soon enough, the fear ate away at everything else that remained of Grometheus. They lost who they were. They didn't know who they had ever been.

They were no longer a witch who collected fears. They were simply the vessel for fear itself.

It's a little unclear what this ask means but I don't imagine that Belos was the one who corrupted Grometheus, if that's what it's implying. Although yes, he probably would have used this case as effective propaganda.

At the time of Grometheus' corruption, this concept of physical form and magic fusion was unheard of. No cases had been documented yet. So Belos could conveniently twist it as an example of the dangers of wild magic.

However, as times changed and studies continued, this condition became more well known in the Healing Coven as a perfectly natural (if rare) biological evolution.

Sadly, it had not yet been theorized that Grometheus' case was anything other than a reckless use of wild magic, rather than a condition that wound up destroying them because nobody knew enough to help.

The truth doesn't come to light until after their vessel was slain in the Hexside arena, but they were hardly still alive in there anyway. The truth is delivered by Gus Porter, who saw everything through their eyes during that one moment where he dissected them with his amplifier mirror.

So now, Gus has absorbed it all. The thousands upon thousands of fears all melted together into a sickening tarry contamination. Gus inherits everything that consumed Grometheus and now it resides in his own mind.

And that's where we currently stand and now the question hangs in the air. Can Gus achieve a successful physical and magical transfusion the way Darius did? Or is he in danger of losing himself to the rot?

[royallygray]

Scar HC S10E12

actually welcome to Scar Says Sus Stuff

this was supposed to be me talking about my favorite parts or parts I want to share but it's just the sus parts and several things that I specifically liked

like. a rly in depth AO3 comment except with a YouTube video.

spoilers for his video

(I haven't watched most of scar's episodes so far)

-- --

1:01 "grant me access to the hole" scar. scar please. your wording. fix it. but also never change we love you but oh my god SCAR

it is actually triggering me that he's just casually on three hearts. my man PLEASE EAT

3:53 "I'm gonna wait for [Grian] inside of his mouth"

5:38 "well now Skizz and my bits are all mixed together"

6:06 "I fall for it EVERY time, by the way" -Skizz. I love Scar and Skizz, the two gullible-est people bonding over how they're gullible. It's genuinely somehow wholesome.

6:20 "something of substance was gonna come from this"

6:44 SKIZZ COME ON MAN I HAD FAITH IN YOU WHAT THE HECK

6:51 There was PASSION in this. Scar go off on them YEAH

7:33 how did I know he was gonna be one block off. rip scar you tried o7

7:40 "he didn't get inside my hole at all" SCAR.

8:17 "we could get six horns" the word horns sounds like hoards. and also kind of the other word.

8:39 (for one frame) the inside of scars face is cursed

10:17 THAT WAS SMOOTH THAT WAS SO SMOOTH IM OBSESSED??? SCAR YOURE A MAGICIAN. A WIZARD. THAT SNAP. IM OBSESSED.

but also. scar. why do you have a tnt minecart as decoration. scar I don't have high hopes for this room. scar you come from the Life series. scar. it's gonna die. someone's gonna shoot it with a flame bow I guarantee it

10:46 LMAO the way he tried to say cartographer sounds so. like. idk endearing or smth idk. Like he tried to breathe in and talk at the same time.

11:05 "I've just realized I kind of look like a composter" that is the entire clip by the way. all you out of context makers, I need that in there. idk if it'll be as funny as it is in here, because seriously, the delivery of having literally no other context other than it just being a random thought that popped into Scar's head is so funny to me

11:41 scar at the goat horn shop what will he do. I'm not mad scar. I think you're an adult who is making decisions with their fictional money. and you deserve it. you deserve that goat horn.

11:52 I lied put it back

12:44 WAIT YOURE GONNA PUT TURTLES AND DOLPHINS IN HERE THATS SICK I LOVE IT

in seventh grade we did an essay on whether zoos are good or bad and while I do love scars character in this I literally cannot stop thinking about it :(

13:15 SCAR THAT WAS TOO SMOOTH I--OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THATS SUCH A COOL TRANSITION AND ALSO THE SOUND EFFECT OH MY GODSSSSS

ALSO YOU SWIRLED TO SUCH A COOL NEW THING WHAT THE HECK WOW LIKE OKAY

wait oh my god it's a sink?? the water and lava?? oh my god??

14:55 damn Gem and Grian's spike has grown

15:35 scar I don't think you remember where your stuff is in the first place. at least like this it'll look cool. although the underground weird chest monster has character and I actually kinda like it in the same way that I like when my floor is a mess because it just feels inhabited and has personality

15:58 oh my god scar you transition god

16:33 scar why are you there

16:35 Etho I appreciate you LMAO

17:19 Etho have you seen Skizz's storage. it's. bad. like. it is worse than Scar's. Genuinely. It gives me pain.

17:25 THE PEARL DOORS. THE BOATEM PEARL DOORRSSSS also scar going through the middle even tho Etho literally opened the other door for him LMAO

17:32 ah yes dig when there is an entrance yes yes

17:43 honey roofs. I see you're obsessed with Joel's gift mr. slab.

this scene is actually amazing. I've never seen Etho and scar interact 1 on 1 (I don't watch a lot of Scar, and I have watched Etho a total of approximately once. his videos are rly long) and also just. Etho's system is so cool.

also Etho's storage system is adorable :D

I like both storage systems. Etho's is significantly more functional (and less likely to explode, scar that minecart is making me wary) but I really enjoy the aesthetic of Scar's.

thank you for coming to Royal says stuff, go watch scar's video, it's great.