#also if you’re a Slavic man

[rodolfoparras]

Happy pride month guys I hope you have a wonderful month 🫶🏻 just know that your existence in this world is so important you deserve to be whoever you want to be and you deserve to exist!! Be extra kind to yourself this month use these days to show some extra love and support for yourself and read tons and tons of queer literature and surround yourself with queer media remember you are never alone and we are all over the world 🫶🏻

[gremlingottoosilly]

Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)

You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3

The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin. 

Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured. 

But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem. 

— What are you doing here? 

Ah. 

You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad. 

— Can’t you talk? 

His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…

Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk. 

This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.

The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say. 

— What is that? 

He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner. 

— I’m not…that. 

— I can see. 

He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water. 

Hm. 

Is it supposed to be this big? 

He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen. 

— Why? 

— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake. 

You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men? 

You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order? 

You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky. 

If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either. 

König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…

— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that. 

— Are you cold? 

You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me. 

You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How? 

— Do you have a husband? 

He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them. 

— No. And I won’t.

— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja? 

He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan. 

You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt? 

— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube. 

König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird. 

His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you. 

You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling. 

— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control. 

His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek. 

— Are you going to leave soon? 

He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you. 

— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this. 

When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important. 

When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead. 

[abbyromanoff]

Gonna request an Alpha!Natasha with pregnant!omega!reader ;) but the angsty part is that reader past relationship was with Wanda, but she cheated on her w vision they had a rough break up after 1 month of the break-up reader discovers that she's pregnant w Wanda's pup, she goes to Wanda to resolve the situation but wands doesn't assume the child saying it's not hers, afterwards reader goes full pissed off and crying to Nat bc she doesn't know what to do and Nat says that she's gonna help raise the kid Months go by, and they fall for each other, only to the both of them confess after the birth of the twin girls when the visits are allowed wanda comes in to see the twins and reader gets protective and starts growling at her while Nat is scenting marking both of the pup's and reader

Ending fluffy bc it's Christmas time

(The pup's name can be Slavic cultured)

My Omega

Pairings: Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x omega!reader, (past) Alpha!Wanda maximoff x reader

Word count: 2407

Warnings: ABO universe, pregnant reader, giving birth, cheating, angst, fluff, mentions of vomiting, think that’s all!

Summary: After you caught the love of your life, your alpha, cheating on you when you were pregnant, you left. Nat cared for you and took you in, caring for you the way Wanda never had. You couldn’t help but fall for her.

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

Grabbing the test you walked back to you and Wanda’s shared room, your heart full of joy as your life would forever change. You opened the door without knocking, seeming as it was your room so you assumed there was no need to announce your entrance. The sight you walked in on made your heart full of joy turn to an aching pain. Betrayal. That’s what it was. You felt betrayed seeing Wanda on top of Vision, the two in bed making out. She gasped and got off of the man hearing you walk in.

“Y-Y/N..” Your head shook back and forth, trying to convince yourself this was some time of dream, a nightmare. Her hands rested on your arms, the stick dropping in the process. She looked down for a moment before registering what it was, leaning down to pick it up.

“Baby, what is this?” You walked backwards slowly, her trying to follow you.

“No! Don’t go near me, you cheating bastard!” She flinched lightly at your words but continued to look at you with pure shock.

“Is it mine? Are these pups mine?” She gripped your arm tightly before you could leave, making you whine out in pain. She removed herself from your body, looking down at the red mark in shame.

“Yes they’re yours! Unlike you, I don’t cheat.” You could see the anger in her expression start to boil, scoffing in your face.

“Oh really? Because you seem to be real close with Nat, wouldn’t be surprised if you two fucked. Hey, maybe even it’s hers!” You fake laughed and ripped the test out of her hands aggressively.

“You’re fucking insane Wanda! You cheat on me and now you’re trying to also put the blame on me? What did I ever do to you?” At this point, Vision had already left. He must’ve gone through the walls like a coward. Nat was currently walking through the halls, planning on going to her room until she heard yelling. She knew it wasn’t her business, but when hearing her name she had to intervene. She stood close to the door, hearing every word filled with emotion. She could hear the hurt in your voice, the pain. And she could hear the anger in Wanda’s, she had no right. Even if Nat barely knew what was going on, she could understand by the words you two were shouting at one another. Wanda had cheated, Nat wishes she could say she was surprised. All of her sneaking around, it was suspicious. When she warned you, you only denied it saying she could never hurt you. But here she was, doing that exact thing.

She saw you run out of the room and stop in front of her, looking into her eyes with sorrow before continuing your voyage to your room. Wanda rushed out and made eye contact with the woman as well, a scowl marking her face. Nat considered going to your room, would you yell at her? Would you accept her caring nature? She decided to go with her guts and followed you, softly knocking on the door only for you to dismiss her. She didn’t give up though, she stayed there until you opened the wooden entrance and let her in.

“What do you need?”

“I don’t think it’s about what I need, what do you need?” You sighed and sat down on your bed, sitting criss crossed and codling your knees as support. She sat beside you and rested her hand upon your thigh, trying her best to soothe or comfort you. You grabbed the small tests and handed them to her, not being able to look at her shocked face.

“Oh. Oh, this- this is great! You’re going to have pups!” She said excitedly, only to remember why you were so down.

“But, not with Wanda?” You shook your head and tried your best not to let the tears flow once again, but when she cuddled you into her arms, you couldn’t stop it. You cried like a child into her shoulder while she whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“It’s going to be alright.”

“How do you know that? I just caught my partner cheating on me when I was going to tell her that I’m pregnant, with her fucking pups!” You exclaimed loudly, the fear and hurt in your voice evident.

“I know it’s going to be alright because I'm going to be with you the whole time. I’ll take care of all of your needs, it’s what you deserve, what you need at this moment.” You felt bad. This wasn’t her job yet she was stepping up and doing what Wanda could never.

“Nat, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, I’m telling you that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t care if they’re not mine, I will treat them as though I’m their mother. I will show you and these little pups so much love, you’ll even reconsider ever having Wanda by your side.” She muttered the last few words jokingly, getting the first laughs out of you in the night.

“See! I’m already doing amazing, aren’t I?” You nodded and she chuckled lightly before helping you get into bed, the crying and screaming making you tired. She got a bottle of water and rested it on the nightstand for when you awoke, along with an Advil pill as she knew you’d have a headache soon enough. You fell asleep quickly and she admired your peaceful state, one that she hasn’t had the privilege of seeing for awhile. Nat made her way down to Fury’s office and explained your situation, requesting that you and her would not have to go on mission until a few months after the baby is born and you’re all recovered. He agreed, already planning for this day with each omega in the building.

The months went by quickly, Nat keeping her promise and making sure you were healthy and happy. Every craving you had, she got, even in the dead of the night. Whenever you were bent over the toilet puking, she’d hold your hair back and cradle you afterwards. She’d figure out anything that made you nauseous and threw it all away, banning the team from having it in the compound until after you’ve given birth. When the pups kicked for the first time, she was there crying gently and talking to them as if they could hear her, she liked to believe that they could. Every doctor's appointment, she was there holding you. During the gender reveal, she cried when finding out she’d have two little girls. She’d pretend that they were hers sometimes, it made her smile. Touching your stomach alone made all her worries disappear, knowing that they’d be here soon enough. She’d sing them lullabies, ones that her mother sang to her and Yelena when she was little. Whenever you two slept in the same nest, her arm would protectively wrap around your stomach. And when she slept alone, she’d toss and turn relentlessly. She knew she was falling for you, if anything, she has loved you since you were with Wanda. For the longest time, she tried to deny it, deny her feelings for you. She tried so hard, even going so far as to try and ignore you for weeks to months. But it was too hard, she couldn’t go a day without seeing your beautiful face. And when she heard about Wanda cheating, she knew that was her time to step in and be what she could never. She gave you time, let you adjust to the new heart break that Wanda left behind. But she wanted you to be hers once and for all, she wanted you as her omega, not anyone else. She wanted to mark you as her own, no, she needed to.

The moment your water broke, she went into action. It was terrifying, all the practice and training went to waste as she panicked. But she kept it under control, monitoring your contractions and getting you to the med bay as fast as possible. She didn’t trust hospitals, she wanted someone she knew to deliver your baby. You both agreed to give birth in the compound’s medical wing, it was faster and more efficient anyways.

You pushed and pushed, yelling at the doctors and even at Nat who was supporting your back and holding your hand. When the first baby started crowning, she moved to watch as tears escaped her, her pups were finally here. They were hers, she may not be related to them biologically, but they were still hers. The first was born, Alla. You both took months to decide good names but eventually figured the perfect ones out, Alla and Ania. They were Slavic cultured, Alla being a mix between Russian and Ukrainian meaning up while Ania meant grace. She held her baby like it was the last time, cradling her small face with her finger. The nurse took her and Nat prepared to help you push out the second, well, give you emotional support.

Not long after you got to hold your little girls, Alla in your left arm and Ania in your right. Nat leaned over your body and stared at the two with love in her eyes, she couldn’t believe it, her pups were finally here. Her little own family was together. The nurse soon took your bundle of joys into the other room while you were left there with Nat.

“Oh Y/N, you did amazing today, I’m so proud of you. You pushed out two little angels all by yourself, you did such a great job, baby.” You leaned into her touch, staring at her lips as she did the same.

“Y/N…”

“Please, I need this. I want you to kiss me, make me yours.” She complied and connected her lips with yours, it felt like heaven. The moment you both have been dreaming for finally happened, you were connected.

“C-can I mark you?” She asked in a low whisper, seemingly nervous for your response. You only nodded and she smiled before moving down to the junction between your neck and shoulder, biting and sucking the skin lightly. You moaned lightly as her saliva hit your scent gland, completely marking you as her own. She looked you in the eyes and gave you a teeth showing grin before resting her forehead against your own.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” You silently agreed with her before yawning, being quite exhausted after giving birth.

“Rest, my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You let your eyes shut as sleep took over you. Nat moved a strand of hair away from your face before kissing your cheek softly.

After two days, you were finally able to take the pups. You both held them carefully and walked over to the team as they all excitedly held and cradled the baby as you two did not long ago. They all congratulated you before catching their eye on your neck, you put your hair in front of it nervously as a way to cover it up. You could see Wanda out of the corner of your eye glaring at you and Nat. As much as she wanted to hold the baby, you didn’t let her just yet. She ran upstairs, causing you to glance at her before Nat turned your attention back to your friends and now, family.

Later that night, you and Nat placed the pups in their cots and got ready for bed happily. Nat went to go grab a glass of water and a book she left downstairs when you heard a knock on the door. Opening it you were greeted by the sight of a teary-eyed Wanda.

“W-Wanda, what are you doing here?” She sighed and looked down but shot her head back up when hearing a soft giggle from Alla.

“I came here to see my pups, they’re not just yours and they sure as hell aren’t Nat’s.”

“Oh really? Weren’t you the one insisting that they were Nat’s when you cheated on me?” She tried getting through the door but you stopped her short, blocking her from seeing the two. She was about to forcefully move you until a loud growl-like sound came from behind her. Wanda turned to see who it was but was met by Nat’s angry glare.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She asked, her arms crossing against her chest. Wanda didn’t back down, she stood proudly and returned the look.

“I’m going to see my pups, that’s what I’m doing.” You speed walked towards the two and protected them from the women fighting at the doorway. They wailed heavily, making Nat look over at them in fear and protection. She pushed Wanda aside and carefully took Ania and Alla in her arms, kissing each of their precious little faces while rocking them back and forth. She whispered sweet words to the two as Wanda scurried off, muttering a small ‘fucking bitch’ under her breath. When the crying came to a stop, Nat settled them back down and let you lay down in the nest.

“Thank you Natty.” She smiled and laid beside you, peppering little pecks on your lips. Her arms wrapped around you protectively, the same way she’d do when you were pregnant.

“There’s no need to thank me, you know I’d do anything to protect our family.” You were so grateful for her, she never even got mad at you. She went from yelling at Wanda to holding you tightly, you were the only exception.

“Ijust want you to know how much I love and appreciate you, the little ones too. They’re going to grow up loving their momma and mommy, I bet they’ll like you more, you’ll spoil them rotten I know it.” Hearing you call her the pups momma made water leak from her green eyes. She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her from your last words, you were right. She would give those little angels anything they ever wanted and more.

“Oh baby, I’m going to love and cherish you forever, I love you so much.” She placed kisses all over your sweet face before speaking once more.

“Rest now, my little omega. I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.”

[bejeweledblondie]

hey! I have a request- I wonder what you think would be the type of girl 141 + konig + graves + any others would go for, thanks!!

Ooooo I legit have this one in my drafts! So buckle up! (Since these men take their careers very seriously I don’t think they’d actually peruse a relationship with a colleague due to professionalism,) I also apologize for not immediately posting this my husband rescued a small kitten from our storm drain & we’re getting her acclimated to our home

•Simon “Ghost” Riley- I feel like he’d lean into a very feminine type of woman, solely due to being around men constantly & his upbringing. So to him being with a woman who leans into very feminine roles would be something that I think he’d find incredibly attractive. Like dresses, makeup, very fashionable, loves to cook, etc.

• Captain John Price- I feel like he’d lean more into a old soul at heart type of woman. A woman who doesn’t settle for anything less & is also incredibly elegant at the same time. To me he’s an old soul himself so it’s very fitting he’d go for a woman who’s an old soul herself. You love to watch old movies, cross words puzzles, actual puzzles, etc.

• Johnny “Soap” MacTavish- I feel like his ideal woman is a full on extrovert that’s incredibly athletic. He needs someone to match his personality & energy at all times. Someone who is adventurous & has a incredible sense of humor. You can easily drink him under the table & love football.

• Gaz- I think his ideal woman is headstrong & intelligent. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, even Gaz when he’s being a “man.” She has a lot of empathy (I believe Gaz does too especially with his reactions to seeing the aftermath of terror attacks) & that can be a downfall for her sometimes. Luckily the both of them use their empathy to their advantage. Y’all love walking the dogs in your local animal shelter, & even foster animals

• Alex Keller- I feel like he’d go a woman who’s bookish, but not afraid to get her hands dirty. Her intelligence can get the best of her. But she can overthink situations & Alex has to reassure her sometimes that’s she’s making the right decision. Overall she’s a big sweetheart & does lean more into her feminine side. I’d say you love to read, paint, have a veggie garden, & love to go on hikes

• Keegan P. Russ- you’re far more extroverted than he is. You’re constantly helping him break out of his shell a bit. He’s can be so serious sometimes that he’d find your fearless attitude refreshing but also stressful. You’d give him a heart attack whenever you do something semi dangerous, like bring in a stray possum because it was cute

Extras✨

König- He’s going for a woman who’s patient & empathetic right off the bat. No joke like a kindergarten teacher imo would be perfect. Someone who can listen to him, take care of him, but also provide space when needed. I feel like y’all would enjoy reading books together, he’s very intelligent & book reading is a great way to bond over something but if needed he can always read by himself or with you.

Sobiesław- he’s going for a Slavic woman, a woman who’s traditional but has a little sass. You definitely lean into your more feminine side & be incredibly fashionable. I also feel like he’d into joining you on your shopping trips because you have a good idea for what looks good on him.

Phillip Graves- the All American type of girl, picture Cindy Crawford in that Pepsi Super Bowl commercial. Outgoing, kind, you’d have to be patriotic (RAH 🦅) to some extent obviously, & confident. You’d be his biggest cheerleader & provide the best support system for him in his career.

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 9th

Glory Hole, Papa Emeritus I x GN!Reader

Masterlist

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Glory holes; sex work; gn!Reader (but reader has a vulva); major inspiration from those slavic glory hole porn videos (iykyk); free use; fingering; overstimulation; cunnilingus; pussy worship (because of course there is); body worship (because this is Primo we’re talking about, man will lavish you in praise unprovoked); squirting; multiple orgasms; unprotected sex; piv sex; spanking; I may have accidentally made this reader plus size so if you are, great, if not, also great… ;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals

🔞 MDNI 🔞

There were times in one’s life where partaking in sins of the flesh wasn’t quite as romantic as one always wanted. The church, of course, always promoted the use of sexual rituals when it came to invoking the Dark One, as well as carnal lust being one of the most important fundamentals of their beliefs. However, sometimes sex was a bare necessity. Banging one out was akin to taking your car to the mechanic to get the oil changed, or cleaning your house and resetting it every season.

Primo, being the old man he was now, didn’t often find himself partaking in rituals anymore. Didn’t feel like he wanted to play cat and mouse with a pretty young sister - or old sister, he wasn’t picky. The idea of wooing a goddess every time exhausted his old brain, thus when nature did call on him, as rare as it was, he would go down to the basement levels where strings of Siblings also needed some attention and couldn’t be bothered with chasing down someone they deemed attractive. Where faces could remain hidden and the thrill of anonymity heightened the pleasurable experiences.

The Ministry’s glory hole.

Now, it seems ridiculous and kind of culty that a religious sect would own a plethora of custom built glory holes, I completely understand. But it just seemed fitting to have one when so many people live in a small space, and a large portion of these people are insanely horny introverts.

So, Primo walked into the corridor that lead to private rooms, chose the orifice he wanted to use and entered the room. After knocking, of course, he wasn’t a monster. The Sibling who was waiting for him had been propped up on a cardboard structure, the perfect height for the average penis-wielder. They were positioned on their stomach, allowing whoever came in two holes to easily play with.

Primo grabbed the camping chair that had been folded neatly in the corner of the room and placed it in front of the hole. His head was at the perfect height to play with the Sibling with his hands and mouth, which is something he intended to do first. Primo, like all of the Papas after him, was a very attentive lover - gracious, even with people he was to spend only twenty minutes with. He had no idea how long they’d been there, but he could see by their bare and swollen folds (and even a droplet of cum on the floor) that they had been used before him. Therefore, he wet two of his own fingers and delicately placing them inside them, tentatively, so as not to hurt their already sensitive pussy. They hissed at the feeling, the overstimulation catching up to them, but the moan that followed afterwards told Primo that they were still ready and happy to go. The light above their hole was green, so he knew the other person was consenting to this.

Green light - good to go.

Yellow light - stop what you’re doing and switch it up.

Red light - stop completely.

Everyone within the booths had buttons to press to express their consent as well as alarms just in case someone overstayed their welcome. Big and burly Ministry officers would come charging in and forcibly remove the other person if needs be. Safety was always the most important thing.

When Primo pulled his fingers out, the only thing coating them was the Sibling’s juices, meaning whoever had used them before had cleaned up after themselves. Primo grunted in appreciation. He didn’t mind eating cum out of a pussy, provided it was his own. With the confirmation he needed, Primo nuzzled into the Sibling’s folds, and allowed his tongue to flick over the sensitive bud softly, tentatively making sure this was okay before proceeding to get more intense. The light remained green.

So, Primo placed his hands on the Sibling’s deliciously plump ass and spread them apart, giving him complete and unobstructed access to his favourite place of worship. His tongue darted erratically over the Sibling’s clit, alternating between licking and sucking. He knew this was a hit with the Sibling, given that their hips were rocking back and forth, working Primo’s nose deeper into their wetness. They tried not to give away their identity with their voice, but their moans and little gasps of “yes!” and “more!” wasn’t helping them. Thankfully, Primo didn’t recognise their voice, but his cock was certainly standing to attention and appreciative of the noises it was hearing.

Pulling away temporarily, Primo inserted two of the same fingers into the Sibling’s slick hole and curved downward, roughly fingering them as he sucked on their clit. He had been around long enough to know exactly what to do and how to please whatever partner he was with, and the Sibling’s gasps of affirmation was enough for him to know that they were seriously enjoying him. It wasn’t long before his fingers felt the familiar tightness, and his face became drenched in the Sibling’s cum, their squirt trickling out of them and flooding the shelf they were lay on. Papa only stopped when he saw the light turn yellow.

He stood and removed the chair, placing it back to where he got it from, before undressing himself. He was a traditional man, preferring to be completely nude under his robes, and so he stood as naked as the Sibling, cock standing freely and begging to sink into the sopping cunt in front of him. In reassurance, and perhaps a gentle warning, Primo placed one of his hands on the Sibling’s ass and stroked it gently. He ran his cock through their folds once, twice, three times before easing himself in gently. The Sibling’s gasp was music to his ears, and it took everything in him not to thrust forward and take his own pleasure. But he held on to the very last bit of sanity he had for the sake of this poor Sibling’s overworked hole. Even with his cock working its way inside the Sibling, he was still giving them reassuring touches and being as gentle as possible. But their pussy was warm, and wet, and fluttering with every movement. He hadn’t felt this good in years.

Papa didn’t care who knew he was in there, he just wanted to make sure the Sibling was comfortable. “Flash your light green when you’re ready for me to move.” He requested.

After a few seconds the light flashed, and Primo began his assault.

The thrusts were tentative and shallow at first, but soon enough he let his wants take over him. His pace quickened and his hands gripped tightly onto the Sibling’s hips to ground and allow himself to hit the right spots more precisely. He would alternate between quick, short thrusts to long, powerful hits where he’d slam himself back in and reach the very back of their hole. He needed this. He didn’t realise just how horny he’d been until he sank deep into the Sibling. He’d almost forgotten how good a tight, wet cunt felt wrapped around his achingly hard cock. Sathanas - if He was good, He would allow Primo more reminders of his youth so he could come back down and play with as many Siblings as he could get his hands on. But he almost wanted to keep this Sibling forever. He wanted to find out who they were. He wanted to bring them up to his chambers and watch their voluptuous ass bounce on his cock as he lay on the bed like a King.

He watched with intent as their ass jiggled at the recoil, every time his hips rammed against it and bounced with the force. He bit his lip and let out a groan, resisting the urge to spank. He didn’t want to do anything the Sibling was uncomfortable with. “C-can I spank you? Fl-flash if yes.”

Another flash, this one even faster than before. Primo chuckled. His hand came down with a slap over and over again, the intensity getting bigger and bigger until their right cheek was red and raw with the impact. Every time he hit them, they squeaked like a little mouse. Between each hit was a reassuring rub, followed by an even more intense one. Sometimes, he would couple the slap with the timing of his cock hitting their cervix. This would earn him an unintentional scream.

When Primo had tired of the spanking, he moved his hand under their bodies and began working his middle finger at the Sibling’s clit. They had already cum once by Primo’s mouth, and it felt great when their cunt constricted his fingers, but he was desperate to feel it around his cock. With the amount they were worked up, he didn’t believe it would be long before they came. And sure enough, the familiar tightness began to appear and Primo felt their walls closing in again. His own throat released a growl as the Sibling’s orgasm ripped one of his own and his balls emptied inside them. They stayed connected for a moment, Primo being too tired to move but also not wanting it to end. But eventually, he pulled out, hissing at the loss of warmth.

His eyes were transfixed on the Sibling’s pussy, watching his cum ooze out of them like melted ice cream down a cone. His finger ran through the mess and gathered it before licking it off. He couldn’t help himself. Once more he unfolded the chair from the corner and set to work abusing their cunt in the sweetest of ways.

The Sibling, who was now almost entirely fuck-drunk and brain dead from orgasms, was babbling incoherently to themselves on the other side of the wall. Their hips were bucking at the feeling of Primo’s tongue eating his own cum out of their cunt and they could hardly contain themselves. Their hand moved backwards, reaching for Primo’s bald head and pushing him further into their cunt as though they were desperate for another orgasm. “Papa!” They cried. “L-like that! Right th-ere. Oh fuck! Please don’t stop! Don’t stop!” And it didn’t take much more than a nudge to the clit to have them tipping over again and cumming for the third time from Primo’s body alone. They were completely breathless by the time Primo pulled away, and in their somewhat delusional state, they clumsily climbed out of the hole and exposed their entirely naked body and face to their Papa.

“Hey, hey!” Primo said, concern in his voice as he watched the exhausted Sibling sway. He gently moved them to the seat and had them sit on it. “Are you okay, little one?”

They nodded. “I wanted to see you.”

Primo chuckled fondly. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

He wrapped his own robes around the Sibling, who was now shaking, and stood behind them giving them an awkward back hug, trying to bring warmth back to their adrenaline-filled body. “What’s your name?”

“I’m ___.” They answered. “C-can I see you again, Papa? Please?”

It had been a long time since a person had attached themselves to him because of his bedroom prowess. “Only for coffee, little ___. Your head is not clear enough for other decisions.”

They nodded. Primo found themselves looking at them in adoration - they were so unbelievably cute. If nothing else, Papa may have just made himself a new friend.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[spyglahass]

If you’re still taking questions on your Hunt and Hunted AU, can I ask about Tango? Like is he a human, and what’s his role?

hi!! and of course! I'm always happy to answer :D (please ignore all the asks I haven't answered yet please I swear I'm working on them)

Tango is actually part of the so called monsters - he is an Ovinnik!

Ovinniks are spirits from slavic folklore that inhabited barns and although usually protected the grain from fire, they could also be the one setting it aflame if provoked. They were depicted either as a small old man that could turn into a barking cat or just as the cat. Basically.

Tango in the AU has two forms - a more human and a cat one, between which he can shapeshift at will and that's how he was able to fly under the hunter's radar so far.

He doesn't really have a permanent home but at the moment he is staying around Bdubs and Keralis (although later on he is found by Jimmy and they have a barn together <3)

[screamscenepodcast]

A Point of Clarification (More Linguistics, CW: Slurs)

Another Dracula Daily related post. In the novel Dracula, the count has minions who are a racist caricature of people of the Rromani ethnicity. Stoker uses a variety of terms in the text, and as a person of Romanian ethnicity, I would like to clear up some possible places of confusion. The most commonly known word in the English speaking world that Stoker uses for Rromani people is Gypsy. This is an English word ultimately descended from the word Egyptian, based on a misunderstanding by medieval European Christians that the itinerant Rroma were nomadic Egyptians, based on an interpretation of the Bible that the ancient Egyptians were scattered by God. This is incorrect, and most historical, linguistic, cultural, and genetic evidence suggests that the Rroma originated in northern India, which might have been obvious if medieval Europeans talked to any of them, or knew anything about India. Most Rroma today consider Gypsy to be a slur, although some do not - this is (ironically) similar to the attitude about the word Indian by indigenous peoples of the Americas. Among social justice activists, both words are regarded as slurs and faux pas, and at the bare minimum both are inaccurate. So, if you are still using that word in 2022, and you are not a Rromani person, knock it off. Stoker, however, also uses the word Romany in his text, which is just his spelling for Rromani, because by the 19th century it was known in English that “Romany” was the endonym (the word a people use for themselves) as opposed to the exonym (the word a people use for others). If you’re a descendant of settlers and live in North America and you find yourself often confused by the “changing” names of Indigenous groups, its usually because -- as is the case here -- the exonym for that group was a slur, and got adopted into English simply because settlers encountered that group’s enemies before encountering the group itself. The word “Rrom” means “man” in the Rromani language. “Rromni” means woman, “Rroma” is plural. “Rromani” is a female adjective, “Rromano” is a male adjective. Now, where we can really get into some misunderstandings in the context of Dracula is with the term Romanian, which Stoker often spells Roumanian. Rromani =/= Romanian. Romanians are people from the country Romania, of which Transylvania is a part, as well as Wallachia and part of Moldavia and Bukovina. Stoker’s Castle Dracula is located in Romania. Galatz is in Romania, and is called Galați in Romanian. The words Romania, Romanian, etc. have nothing to do with the words Rroma, Rromani, etc. The name of the country of Romania comes from a belief on the part of the Romanian people that they are historically descended from a province of the Roman Empire once called Dacia. The greatest piece of this evidence is that Romanian is a Romance language, which is to say a language descended from the language of the Romans, Latin. Despite being surrounded by nations speaking Slavic tongues, Romanian is closer to Italian than it is to Ukrainian, despite cross-pollination over the years. The reason I use a double-r (representing a trilled r) in my spelling of Rroma for the nomadic ethnic group is for disambiguation purposes, because in the Romanian language the word for Romanian people is Români. The double-r spelling is also used within Romania for this reason. Historically Romania has always had a relatively high population of Rroma, and historically speaking they have I think it is fair to say almost never been treated well. Today Rroma are the second largest ethnic minority in Romania behind Hungarians, but despite the similar names the Români have never treated Rromani people very well. From the time of their arrival in the region in the 1370s until the emancipations of the 1840s and 50s, Rromani people were enslaved within the principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia, and made serfs in Transylvania. In the 1940s there were genocidal programs carried out against them, and under the Communist regime there were attempts made to force Rroma to live in government built housing and abandon their traditional culture. Since the fall of the Communist government Rroma are extremely discriminated against in Romania, and it is mainstream there to be racist against them. Which brings us to Szgany, which can be a confusing word in Dracula until you know that the Romanian language didn’t have standardized orthography until 1881. Basically the only place you’ll see the word Szgany today is in Dracula or in modern gothic horror fiction copying Dracula without thinking and treating “Szgany” as just the word for Dracula’s servants or something. In the novel, Stoker uses it as if it referred to a specific group of Rromani people, ones native to the area around Castle Dracula, in the Călimani Mountains. However, Szgany is really just a phonetic transliteration of the Romanian word Țigani, which is just the Romanian word for “Gypsy”. The letter Ț in Romanian indicates a kind of “tz” sound, like in the word “pizza”. It is also found in Vlad Drăculea’s epithet -- Țepeș means “the Impaler”, and is pronounced like “Tze-pesh”. So Țigani sounds like Szgany, and is also similar to the word for “Gypsies” in many other languages: Zingari in Italian, Çingene in Turkish, Cigány in Hungarian, Tsingánoi in Greek, etc. These are all still slurs, and descend from the word Atsínganos from the Greek speaking Eastern Roman Empire, which means “untouchable.” Țigani is still a commonly used word in Romania, partially due to the racism and partially due to the desire on the part of Români to avoid association with Rromani. There is a feeling in Romanian that the word Rromani gives Romanians abroad a “bad name” due to racism against Rromani people in many parts of the world. This is all, of course, absolutely terrible. So, to summarize: Gypsy = at best inaccurate, at worst a slur Romany = 19th century English for Rromani, often spelt today as Romani, a common acceptable name for a diverse group of nomadic peoples ultimately descended from northern India Roumanian = Romanian, a person from Romania Szgany = Stoker’s attempt at spelling Țigani, a Romanian language slur for Rromani people.      

[linnetagain]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’re comfortable answering questions about your fics here so please feel free to ignore this if you’re not.

I’m a russian queer who left a comment under chapter 3 of The Season and I’m super qurious why you decided to make Астарион :), Cazador and Halsin russian. In Good Men and Monsters you mention that Astarion has been called upyr, does he have Eastern European background in that universe as well?

I’m completely enamoured with and fascinated by your works and wait for new updates religiously. Thank you so much for sharing them with us, you’re a солнышко! 🖤

Hello friend!! I am slow to answer but happy to! I can't promise I'll be very eloquent or be able to provide a satisfying answer but I'll do my best.

First of all, I haven't specified Astarion's background in Good Men and I likely won't, so if you want to read him as Eastern European please do! I can absolutely see how it fits. In the context of that discussion it's the concept of Vampirism and the folklore surrounding it that is focused on Eastern Europe rather than he himself. I am absolutely not going to touch some of Stoker's vampiric lore because he was a xenophobic Victorian man (the boxes of dirt... goddamn, Stoker, what the fuck - the grave dirt of course is relevant in Good Men but it's 'the soil the vampire was buried in' not 'fifty boxes of soil from his homeland'). I could write a whole essay on the symbolism of the outsider as a threat and the crossover of the ostracized sections of Victorian society in Dracula (non-english, lower class, homosexual, the list goes on and fucking on) but this is already a long reply so I'll spare you and look at Season.

There are a couple of reasons that it fits, for me, and a lot of it is to do with the Russian history of competitive ice skating. Writing a modern AU Astarion who wasn't a vampire meant I knew I needed to find another way to have that aspect of his character where his life hasn't been his own, where it's been shaped by other people for their own purposes, and even as an adult and being 'free' to make his own choices, he's living with the legacy of who they made him, and working to be more than that. Competitive sport definitely has that aspect already, unfortunately, and ice skating even more so.

I also never wanted him to be the only Russian, because then of course you're risking tokenizing him. Cazador made sense for obvious reasons, but Halsin too. I considered him because he's the other high elf companion, but also because in game he's the one with a history of war. Transferring him to a modern day context was harder than a lot of the other characters, but I wanted him to have that similar ground with Astarion that he has in game, even if they never address it. Unintentionally, it means that in Season he and Astarion have very different experiences of their culture and identity, especially in context of the diaspora, which is something I really enjoy exploring.

Of course that then raises the question of the current geopolitical state of Russia and the wider Slavic regions. Having real world issues as a basis for plot is always somewhat fraught, but it's also something very close to my heart and that I want to write about. I also didn't want to make them all British to avoid any of that difficulty, that would be both unrealistic and uninteresting.

I think the ultimate reason is that fiction, even fanfiction, is our way of processing and reflecting on and exploring our world. It's less obvious in fantasy settings, but it's still very much there. The ultimate reason I choose to do anything is because it's interesting - and usually, in a real world context, that means it's fraught and complicated. I want to write about things that matter, to me and to anyone who might read it, and I want to do it in a way that means anyone reading from a different context might feel seen.

The reason I started writing in the first place, however many years ago, is that I didn't see any asexual rep in fiction and I knew that if I needed it, someone else needed it too. I do the same now. I have queer Russian friends who feel like the world has moved on from what's going on in Russia at the moment, or that all Russian people are being treated like they MUST agree with what the Russian government are doing. The nuance of the situation and their identity is erased by oversimplification. I suppose part of writing this is just me wanting to do anything I can to combat that. It's not much, but I hope it's something, to know that you're seen and still being thought about, and people still care.

Writing characters who have dealt with miscarriage, drug abuse, xenophobia, chronic pain, emotional neglect and all those kinds of things is because I have feelings about these subjects, I want to discuss them, I want to explore what it means to live through something like that and how it affects you as a person. Fiction is a space to do that, and to invite people into those conversations that we wouldn't have otherwise. Art has always been a starting point, and it's always been at the forefront of social and political change. I don't write fanfic thinking it's going to change the world, obviously, but I do write it with the intention of treating real life situations with the respect and consideration they deserve, rather than just using them for drama or brushing over them because it's a difficult thing to talk about.

I know that Season is a love story. That's the ultimate goal, and I presume that's why people are still reading. But it's also, to me, a story about what it means to be queer in our world today. What that looks like, how far we've come and how far we still have left to go. I want to give people a story that is real, in that sense. That takes in all the fucking awful shit that can come with being queer and out and open, and still have hope and a happy ending. It's not easy, and I don't ever want to pretend that it is. But fiction also gives us a place where we can imagine what a happy ending might look like, in a world that doesn't provide them as often as we'd like.

So. Sorry for the essay as a response, but. I suppose I made Astarion Russian because it made sense for his character, but also because I want to write with hope, and not manufacturing false hope by turning away from the world as it is. I want to write all the awful, difficult, horrible things, and believe that happiness and hope are possible anyway, despite, and including them. We don't live in an ideal world. Sometimes I want to cave to despair and think that things will never be better. I write because I don't want to believe that's true.

[ghostkingart]

WIP Whenever

In the spirit of this post that ended up inspiring people, I'll post my own little snippet that follows the prompt. Or two. I'll post two. Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Astarion x male! demigod! OC (Valeriy) Words: 932 AU explanation: no tadpoles, mind flayers fucked off somewhere somehow and don't cause the whole thing AU (so Astarion is still bound to Cazador and, in this story, he is trying to seduce my OC for Cazador) OC explanation: Valeriy is a demigod, son of Morana (goddess of winter and death in Slavic folklore) and a mortal man, he was originally created for my original fantasy novel, but I saw the potential in pairing him up with Astarion so now he's in BG3 also (with few changes)

“I wish you would tell me something that was true,” Valeriy said wistfully.

“What do you mean?” Astarion asked.

“I can tell when people are lying to me. I’m afraid you’ve been lying ever since we met.”

Dread pooled in Astarion’s gut. Something was telling him that Valeriy wasn’t bluffing. He needed to find a way to get out of this predicament. “Has it ever occurred to you that you might be wrong?”

“It has. Unfortunately for you, I am rarely wrong about it.”

Astarion went quiet. He wasn’t sure where to go from here.

“It isn’t impossible, but it’s difficult to fake closeness. I imagine you know that and… you seem like someone who knows how to do so. But I’m sorry to disappoint. If you want something with me, it has to be real.”

Real, huh? Well, Astarion still couldn’t tell him the truth, but there was a part of it he could try to present, even if he’d have to twist it a bit. When he sighed, his chest hurt. “I am not… actually looking for love or connection. I don’t expect it. I stopped believing in it a long time ago.”

“Then what was all this for?” Valeriy asked softly.

Astarion expected that question. “Trying to fill the void, I suppose. One left behind by those who sought out to hurt me.

Valeriy was quiet for a while. Astarion didn’t dare look at him, even though he knew Valeriy wouldn’t be able to see him look.

“Aren’t we all?” He said at last.

“Who was it that hurt you?” Astarion asked.

Valeriy chuckled. “Astarion, please. You tell me one truth since we met and you expect me to cave in so easily?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Astarion stared ahead of himself. This was his last chance to seal the deal. He needed to try somehow. “One other thing is true.” He turned his head to look at Valeriy, who, of course, wasn’t looking back at him. “You’re beautiful.”

Valeriy smiled. “You think so?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve forgotten what I look like.”

Astarion thought he’d be sick. The two of them had more in common than he’d ever cared to find out. Of course, he couldn’t mention that he related without also mentioning that he was a vampire spawn, so he said nothing about it. “You weren’t born blind, then?”

“No,” was all Valeriy said.

Astarion tried again, “I see you aren’t in the mood for talking. But I can think of something we can do that doesn’t require any words…” Astarion leaned over and reached out.

Before he managed to make contact, however, Valeriy caught his wrist. “Is that what you really want?” He asked sternly.

To the Hells with it.

At that point Astarion simply closed the remaining gap between them and kissed him.

Valeriy was quick to respond. He let go of Astarion’s wrist in favor of wrapping his arms around Astarion’s waist. That was more like it.

This was something Astarion knew how to do. He could simply fake it all throughout and he’d have Valeriy in his clutches. It helped that Valeriy was genuinely beautiful, but Astarion doubted anything would be different just because it was Valeriy he was supposed to fuck.

Valeriy was gentle, while Astarion was trying to get things moving. Valeriy seemed to be really into simple slow kissing, with tender touches and slow movements.

He was taking the lead. Astarion didn’t like this. He needed to be in control. He pushed against Valeriy’s chest and his back hit the sand. Astarion straddled his hips. Better.

But when he went in for another kiss, Valeriy was the one with his hand on Astarion’s chest, pushing him back.

“You’re rushing it,” Valeriy said in a neutral tone that drove Astarion insane. No judgment, but no emotion either. “You don’t want this.”

“Of course I do,” Astarion said cheekily. “It was my idea, silly.”

Valeriy’s eyes landed on Astarion’s face and for a split second it appeared as though he could see, not just Astarion’s being, but all the way to his very soul.

But then that moment passed and Valeriy was once more looking through Astarion rather than at him. It was a relief.

“You wanted to know about me,” Valeriy said.

Nine Hells, what a talker.

“I used to fuck people for money,” Valeriy said bluntly. “So I can tell when someone isn’t enjoying it.”

Well, shit. That certainly complicated things.

“I’m sorry. If you’re looking for a cheap thrill or to hurt yourself, you’ve got the wrong guy,” Valeriy said gently.

Astarion sighed and got off of him, sitting on the sand beside him instead. “You are infuriatingly kind.”

“That’s one I haven’t been called before.”

Astarion stared ahead.

“Why do you—”

Astarion promptly cut off Valeriy’s attempt at even more talking, “Can you, for once, just be quiet?”

“Alright,” Valeriy said. “I know something else we can do that doesn’t require any talking.”

Astarion frowned. “Like what?”

Valeriy’s hand closed around Astarion’s wrist and he pulled him in. Then he… simply held him. Astarion’s head rested on Valeriy’s chest, listening to the beating of his heart.

Astarion wanted to scream. He wanted to cry and hit the man, but any of that was hardly on the table.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring Valeriy to Cazador. He truly was out of his depth.

He didn’t want to move. He knew he should have, he should have told Valeriy to piss off and stop wasting his time. But, for the time being at least, he allowed himself to be held.

[rodolfoparras]

Smh Alec you can't do that to me and say you're gonna be only Slavic man by Price's side when I exist too 😔 I'm willing to compromise and let you have him most of the time since Simon is my main husband though.

Also since I adore jealousy and possessiveness and whatnot in writing (and I'm in mood for angst) let me expand on what you wrote if I may.

Price and Nik used to date and while it was never too serious for Price, Nik still has feelings for him. And John doesn't really are it because to him Nik is just a good friend, his oldest friend and someone he (platonically) loves and trusts. But you know.

It almost becomes competition of sorts between you and Nik. Sure John loves you far more than he ever loved Nik but Nik knows him better and he isn't afraid to show it.

He knows about this one band John loves that you never even heard of and he buys John their record. He knows about that one niche type of tea John drinks, but only when he has a cold. He knows exactly how to fuck John so well that he blacks out for a few moments. And what hurts the most, he was John's first and he knows John in a way you feel like you will never be able to.

John is devoted to you but first love leaves a mark and by the time you met John, he was already older and mature and he knew exactly who he was as a person. Nik got to experience John in his truest and rawest, John before bitterness of war and while it shouldn't matter and it shouldn't hurt, it does.

And you know John would never cheat on you but sometimes a thought can't help but to creep in...does he miss Nikolai? Does he want him back? ...does he see Nikolai in me?

(Naturally the answer is no, he loves you because you're love of his life and he doesn't want anyone else but you don't know that since you just can't bring yourself to bring up the topic)

-🔮

🔮 anon I’m losing my fucking mind here

Thinking about you being the troublesome soldier that Price has taken under his wing.

However you’re doing everything to resit the help he’s trying to give, telling him that you’re not a charity case when he takes you in his squad, telling him that you’re not a charity case when he wants to patch you up after you got into a fight, telling him you’re not a charity case when he decides to keep you on his squad even when you mess up during a mission.

It’s inevitable to develop feelings, no matter how much you try to prevent yourself from doing it.

However you’re more than sure that he doesn’t feel the same. Who would want a kid who’s been kicked out of every squad he’s been in? Besides Price’s got a man by his side that remembers the tea he likes to drink when he’s sick, the band he likes to listen to and buys their records for him and even knows how to fuck him so good he momentarily forgets about everything that’s plaguing him.

But what you don’t see is that Price reciprocates your feelings. The tea Nik buys for him, Price makes for you when you can’t sleep at night or when you’re down with the flu. The cd Nik buys for him, Price mentions when it’s just the two of you hoping you’ll want to listen to them with him and all of a sudden Price finds himself visiting Nik less and less because all he can think about is you fucking him into the mattress.

Tension are high when you walk into the mess hall and see Nik and Price talking to each other. Price’s eyes immediately fall on you, a small smile tugging at his lips but all you can see is the way Nik’s got an arm around him, the way he’s saying something to Price that has him laughing and before you know it jealously’s brewing in the pit of your stomach

As you walk past them, Price feels the smile drop from his face, quickly noticing the nasty scratch on your face and without even thinking he pulls you towards his table.

“What happened?” He says with a hand on your cheek and you have to awkwardly balance your tray of food so you don’t drop it.

“Nothing” you grunt out, avoiding his gaze but feeling heat creep up your face, all while Nik watches with interest.

“Doesn’t look like nothing” Price snaps back, thumb pressing down onto your cheek and watching the way you wince.

“Why do you care?” You snap at the older man, wincing yourself as you hear the words leave your mouth.

However the older man easily avoids the daggers in the shape of words, already used to them.

“Was is it sergeant phillips again?” Price says “why didn’t you come to me instead”

“You were busy” you say, finally glancing at the Russian next to him.

“Nikolai” the man says, hand stretching out towards you with a smile on his face.

You grunt out something along the lines of your name before you pull your face away from the older man’s hand, muttering some excuse that you have something to do, not wanting to sit here and hear Price gush about the man he’s in love with, while the man in question is here.

“Make sure to get that patched up you hear me?” Price shouts out behind you, “or I’ll see you in my office” his words catching the attention of the other soldiers in the mess hall.

“You’re making it too obvious you know?” Nikolai says while trying to suppress his chuckle

“Shut up Nik” “ Price snaps back feeling heat creep up his face while watching you walk away.

Spitball w/ me?

[dailycharacteroption]

Roleplaying Races 16: Vine Leshy

(art by kaerru on DeviantArt)

Today we’ve got another late addition to First Edition, but unlike others, this one got quite the expansive lore to go with it, and even was carried further into one of the early inclusions of Second Edition! I give you, the vine leshy!

In the real world, “Leshy” is a Slavic deity or spirit associated with the wild places of the world and being a temperamental guardian of nature. This figure is often conflated with the Green Man or woodwose, and is at least sometimes a humanoid plant creature.

It’s no surprise then that the closest thing to this guardian deity in Pathfinder are Green Men: quasi-divine plant entities associated with druidism and nature, and are sometimes called Leshy Kings since they are in fact powerful nature spirits given planty bodies to interact with the world.

Which brings us to actual leshies. In Pathfinder, the leshies are much like the Green Men in that they are nature spirits bound into specially grown plant bodies, often made by other sapient plant creatures such arboreals or of course the Green Men themselves, or even by druids who have been taught the art. Regardless of who creates them, however, they all gain abilities based on the nature of the plant matter used to embody them.

Most leshies, while fully sapient, are not quite strong or willful enough to be truly independent and go off on their own, many acting as servants or even familiars. However, vine leshies in particular grow into fully-realized beings that often strike off on their own, finding a natural place to serve as guardian of (and watching over their lesser kin), or else travelling to learn more of the world.

…or at least that was the paradigm when this ancestry was first introduced. In 2E, it was revealed that any type of leshy might have full sapience, having more to do with the strength of the nature spirit than the nature of the vessel. As a matter of fact, I did a conversion of these different types of playable leshy on this very blog if you do some searching. But for now, we’ll be focusing on the base ancestry, though you can assume that this applies to all playable leshies with their monster entries supplementing their behavior.

In any case, most leshy-kind are fiercely devoted to nature, while also delighting and finding fascination on the perspective that a mortal body offers. However, they view death differently than mortals, since their spirits literally directly return to the world upon death, leaving no questions or quandaries past that threshold.

Leshies are… in a word: Adorable. Like seriously, if you’ve never google image searched “pathfinder leshy”, do so. You will not be disappointed. They all essentially resemble small, cute humanoids made out of plant matter, though 2E art also includes many of them having animal features, all of which falls in line with the fact that, since their bodies are magically cultivated and then animated by a nature spirit, there is no set taxonomy or even true genetic connection between leshies unless two were grown from cuttings from the same plant or species. Everything from cutie pies with carved pumpkin heads to surly talking cacti and so on.

Now, if you’re specifically playing a vine leshy (either because you’re not using my homebrew or simply chose to play a vine leshy), they all have some vine elements to them, such as having limbs made from intertwined woody or green vines, leaves based on various vining plants, and so on. Additionally, while many make use of the goods made by societies, those with a more crafty mindset often craft their own clothing and tools from natural materials. (There are multiple pieces of art with leshies wearing “helmets” that are in fact citrus peels.)

Given that they are creations of other beings, most leshies do not have a society of their own, typically living with their creators until striking out on their own, oftentimes living as hermits, though others retain friendly relationships with travelling companions or with like-minded dwellers in the wild that also have a vested interest in protecting nature. Indeed, in regions where there are many leshies, the fully independent leshies may share an almost parental or mentor role for their lesser kin, possibly under a powerful druid, arboreal, or Green Man. In any case, their relationships with other ancestries varies based on the experiences of the nature spirit that forms the core of their being.

Vine leshies tend to be hardy and full of life, with the wisdom of being an immortal nature spirit bound to a mortal body. However, a combination of their naivety of youth or their alien perspective makes intellectual pursuits a lower priority for them.

They are also small in size, and their short limbs limits their speed somewhat, though their supernatural and light-reliant nature gives them superb senses in the dark.

They also constantly are warded against being tracked, leaving no discernable trail for others to follow.

All leshies can disguise themselves by transforming into a mundane specimen of the plant they were grown from, helping them to blend in, at least in areas where a wild plant (a vine in a vine leshy’s case) wouldn’t stand out.

They can also speak with their origin plant variety as well, communicating with them with ease.

Even when not disguised, it can be hard to discern the planty bodies of leshies from surrounding foliage, and vine leshies in particular are excellent climbers, their limbs latching on to handholds just as easily as the anchor roots of natural vines do.

Finally, when a leshy is slain, their nature spirt soul is released into the world in an explosion of positive energy, causing nearby plants to be healed and even spring up in a verdant growth around them in a wide area, making travel difficult and the fact that they’ve been slain nearly impossible to conceal. While the thickness of the foliage reduces with time, the plants are otherwise natural, and may thrive or wither based on the conditions of the area.

Of course, not every vine leshy (or other leshy) is built the same, especially when the exact species they were grown from can vary. Some of these might be applicable for my homebrew, while others might not. In any case, there’s plenty of options. For example, vine leshies grown from grapevines and other fruiting vines can produce fruit infused with healing and sustaining magic of a goodberry spell. Other prove more dexterous than tough. Others can reconstitute a limb into a whip-like weapon as well as wield whips with great skill. More wizened ones can perform a ritual to speak with all plants, rather than just their own kind. Those living in swamps tend to be especially stealthy in them as well as good swimmers. Meanwhile, some can produce a vine with sensory organs to sneakily peer and listen through small openings. Those interested in other cultures often develop a knack for learning about them. Finally, some leshies are outright toxic, perhaps grown from poison ivy or the like.

With their toughness and wisdom leshies have “druid” written all over them, with perhaps a decent subset dedicated to ranger, hunter, and even tanky shifter, especially since both hunter and shifter have options for leshies and other plantfolk in particular, and druids have the likes of leshy callers for those seeking to be stewards of the lesser of their kind. That constitution bonus also suits them well as kineticists, particularly wood kineticists and even more particularly the leshykineticist archetype. Beyond these tailored options though, they do quite well as tough tanky types, especially with that wisdom bonus helping to protect the minds of those using a martial class. Meanwhile, those that take the dex bonus over con could serve well with agile classes, though their intelligence penalty does somewhat limit them in terms of skills and certain arcane casting classes, but nothing insurmountable. Meanwhile, they also find things like sorcerer and bloodrager, especially with nature-themed bloodlines like fey or verdant to be fun and thematic options.

[mockerycrow]

I’d love to hear about your cod ocs, if you’re comfortable sharing! do you have any lore for them or profiles? are they in any teams?

anon, respectfully i’m kissing you on the lips rn!!! i didn’t think anyone would ask!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

alright so i have four ocs in total, three are for an upcoming series and one of them is my self insert. the three ocs for my series dubbed “the tempest” (an upcoming price x captain!gn!reader) are you, the readers team. you are their captain. there is Mantis, Hamlet, and Macbeth! I will give a very simple run down of these three as they are introduced in the tempest. All of these characters are up for change as I’m constantly rewriting things in the tempest!

Mantis—her callsign—is a Black American woman, a sergeant. She’s twenty nine years old. She’s twenty nine years old and she knows four languages and is learning a fifth one. She’s very much of a logical person, usually the mediator when the team disagrees on something. Although, she’s the one who jokes around the most besides Hamlet.

Macbeth is a first lieutenant, thirty something years old (i haven’t decided an exact age yet). He’s a White Ukrainian man and also knows four languages. He struggles with emotion and showing his appreciation, often appearing as a softie of some kind but only to his team. Bad with words, he resorts to acts of service. His personality is based on actual slavic men and i had help from a dear friend with him!! (love u pookie)

Hamlet is a twenty six year old White Australian Man who is a sergeant. He understands three languages and is often rambunctious. He knows when to get shit done, but he has a temper. Hamlet is very protective of his team, maybe more so than Mantis and Macbeth combined.

again, they are very very much so under construction. i’ve had my undercover series to focus on, as well as the gym and studying the ASVAB!!! i’m hoping to get more time to properly write and develop them. i’ve made pinterest boards for them, though!!

[scaredshadowsswap]

Something that I’ve never seen talked about is how terrible it would be to be a woman at the SCP Foundation.

If you look at the Personnel docket, you’ll see it’s mostly men. That is not inherently a problem, but a lot of the characters written as masculine…are creepy.

Like, if you asked Clef for pronouns, you’d probably get a response like “My pronouns are daddy/[moan]”, and then you’re stuck in this weird position. You can call Clef by he or they pronouns since that’s less embarrassing and you know Clef was messing with you, but then you’ll be berated by Clef for not respecting pronouns. Or, you can call Clef daddy, which’ll get some weird reactions from whoever you’re talking to.

Or Strelnikov? If a woman was in Epsilon-5 “Red Dawn”, he’d probably be pretty vocal about his opinions of having women on the team. As shown in his Personnel File, he calls all male nurses “babies”, and I can imagine he has a very long rant prepared about that and this. As shown in his handbook, he is clueless about women. He also seems like a very traditional Russian, which brings with it the slavic gender roles. Women are expected to be subdued, which means you’d be dealing with a lot of sexism from this man, until you manage to prove to him that he’s wrong.

Iceberg too. He just seems very much like an incel, and you’d have to deal with that. Luckily, there’s no way for you to work under him like you would with Strelnikov or Clef since he’s already Gears’s assistant, but if you ever sit near him during lunch or something, it seems so uncomfortable. If you sit near him every day during lunch, he may eventually warm up to you and internalize you as “one of the good ones”, which…is still not good, but better I guess?

The others I usually write about seem better, but with these being some of the most well-known characters in the SCP Foundation, I can only imagine what craziness you’d deal with when interacting with some lesser-known personnel.

[dearest-painter]

Gary from Bully with shy fem (if u wanna add: Slavic) reader please? :-) a few headcanons would be really appreciated. Just someone who’s not into fighting and doesn’t risk at all

Thank u in advance, dear. Hope you’re having a good day/night so far :-) <3

Thank you!!! So I’ll imply their Slavic as I am not Slavic but I will imply it! Also went with a platonic approach

TW/CW:Gary himself, Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship, abusive relationship, abusive behavior, I am not slavic myself and will just be implying they are for anon!, Gary being the shit out of people, Gary forcing you to pretend to be his sister, Someone getting beat up(it’s bullworths), basing all of Reader’s shyness off of me being shy and having social anxiety!, Insults, degrading(It’s gary), tell me if I need to add anything

Summary:We all can go a LITTLE crazy for our family every once and a while even if they aren’t related to us by blood! That doesn’t mean we don’t love them even if they don’t believe that! We just gotta ENGRAVE that in their tiny little brains! :)

-You two definitely grew up together so your pretty used to his bullshit and all his insane behavior. You just don’t say anything as he’s your first ‘long’ friend

-He definitely made sure you call him brother when others ask about your relationship as he’s the only man who’ll ever care about you in any significant way so just do what he says! No it doesn’t matter that your Slavic and he’s not he’s still your brother!

-he’ll be less rude to you but that doesn’t mean your safe, he’ll call you rude names or make cruel jokes about you but if he sees it really got to you he’ll give a half assed apology

-No your not allowed to date, he won’t let you date anyone at all! If you do they have to meet a list of acquirements they have to meet to even go on a DATE with you (which surprisingly only Jimmy fits…just don’t let him know that or he’ll add more shit)

-If he sees someone trying to fight you he immediately joins in. “Listen I’ll cut to the shit, get the HELL away from MY sister or I’m going to shove that nerds glasses so FAR UP YOUR ASS YOUR PUKING THEM OUT FOR MONTHS! NOW GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY DUMB SISTER!” He’ll then lead you away while ranting about how ‘he’s the only person who’ll ever do anything for you and that you should just rely on him!’

-Definitely uses the fact your jealous to his advantage as your to shy to communicate to anyone you don’t trust so he just makes some lies about everyone so that you only have him left!

-He’s always around you but if he can’t he has eyes everywhere so don’t think your safe! He knows every little thing you’ll do!

[watanabes-cum-dump]

Random HCs abt command but specifically Hassen and Nikola

Note: “Command” just sort of refers to the people who hand out missions. So Celica, Asimov, Nikola and Hassen

Okay okay so Nikola very obviously Slavic coded, I think Russian bc he’s immune to the cold lol like in Luna’s interlude he’s watching Lucia train in the snow in nothing but a SUIT. That out of the way

A friend suggested that Hassen is Pakistani American and honestly? I can get behind that. I do think he’s only half tho bc this guy is a white man 💀 I’m sorry but being raised in an orphanage did not help him.

Nobody in command can cook. Absolutely nobody. Except for Celica. Bc that girl can do everything

I also think that Celica can speak like five different languages. She’s just built like that

I think it’d be funny if Celica is trying to explain something and she just blanks and forgets how to explain it in all five languages.

Nikola gains an accent when he’s really angry. It’s like a scale the angrier he gets the more Russian he gets. (idk but personally I gain a weird Filipino accent when I’m frustrated does this happen to anyone else?) If anyone hears him yelling in Russian they better hide because Nikola does not yell

Oh yeah and on that, I don’t think Nikola yells. Yes he’s very menacing and scary and you know when he’s mad, but he never yells. And it’s because he has a nice, tight lid and control over his emotions. Basically you REALLY have to screw up in order for him to yell at you.

Hassen is scary for a different reason and that is that he’s super patient. When he’s mad he’s twice as a scary because once again, you have to really fuck up. He can tolerate A LOT but the scariest thing in the world is an angry Hassen because it’s probably very justifiable

I think this is somewhat in part to him actually being rather cunning. I think he can be quite manipulative as well and that’s where he gets the patience from

Asimov canonically having an attitude is kinda funny to me. Everyone else is stepping on eggshells around the president and commander but Asimov’s unhinged ass is out here like “Uh yeah, so here’s the thing; you’re fucking wrong”

I think the little nerd is feisty and he’s a a little smug about it because he knows that he’s usually right

I genuinely think Hassen and Nikola are friends. You can pry this from my cold dead hands but they’ve known each other forever and they are both the leaders of the Kurono hate club. They trust each other so much I just know it

Nikola has siblings and they’re all high ranking Kurono members

Nikola strikes me as a rich boy that was funnelled into politics and shady business by his parents. Idk he gives that vibe

Asimov has a sweet tooth. Maybe because it helps him stay awake idk.

Hassen keeps alcohol in his office. It’s not even like a nice wine or anything it’s just cheap beer

Asimov has a dark sense of humour. I just feel like he cracks some very out of pocket jokes sometimes

I know Hassen is good with kids it is written all over him

I like to think that surprisingly, Asimov is too. Hey, kids LOVE cool science he would be a neat baby sitter and they’d make one of those little baking sofa volcanoes or smth

Celica is not. She has no idea how to deal with the little suckers but they all like her anyways bc funny lady say funny words

I’m sorry but Nikola is last place here I don’t think he can deal with kids at all 💀 I feel like it could mostly be rooted in his guilt from helping Kurono get actual children to experiment on. Yeah he just cannot with children. He doesn’t hate them though

Anyways that was it for today’s episode of Kou’s Delusions hope you enjoyed it!

[moon7struck]

Slavic Yuu in twst pt2

________________________________________

*Lunchtime*

Ace: Did you seriously bring a sandwich that only has ONE bread???? Pft-

Slavic Yuu: Yeah? Everyone eats their sandwiches like this??

Ace: …

Ace: You come from a weird place Perfect.

______________________________________

Slavic Yuu: *Talking about slavic crime shows they watched*

Deuce: That is freaking traumatizing??? When did you watch something like that???

Slavic Yuu: When I was around 8. It was actually pretty fun!

Deuce: Are you ok…?

Slavic Yuu: Yup! So anyways, they tortured the dude and also chained him up on those really old heat warmers that will burn you if you touch it. They take his identity, make him so weak that he can barely think for himself, and pretty sure he died!

Deuce: Yeah, you most definitely need therapy the most.

Slavic Yuu: He was just the side plot. Now onto the main plot…

________________________________________

*At night*

Malleus: So, child of man, why are you not asleep? I was informed that tomorrow is quite a important day for you? It is quite late at night.

Slavic Yuu: Hm? But I need to clean the house??

Malleus: Child of man, are you inviting people over?

Slavic Yuu: Nah, my mom will beat me if she knew I didn’t clean the house..

Malleus: Your mother isn’t here? How shall she know if you cleaned or didn’t?

Slavic Yuu: She always knows somehow….No matter where she is…Always there…

_________________________________________

Slavic Yuu: Heyyyy!

Random person: Heyyyy, how have you been bestie?

*Slavic Yuu and random person have the best conversation in the world. They sound like they were the best of friends ever since childhood*

Ace whispering to Grim: Does the Perfect know them???

Grim: Nope, just met them a couple of minutes before.

Ace: When will they stop???

Grim: If you’re lucky, a hour.

Ace: WHAT

Slavic Yuu: Ace shut up or I will personally beat you.

Slavic Yuu turns back to random person: So sorry about that. As you were saying?

________________________________________