#im so full of unholy thoughts

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Idk what switch fucking flipped but the blasphemy kink really being hitting these days

[stararch4ngelqueen]

domestic jason hcs? >:)

(this ask feels self-indulgent but i was VERY inspired by this one buff dude i saw on insta reels baking in a not-so-sexual way but like women in the comments are down bad and i cant really describe it im so sorry 😭)

imagine waking up to jason baking something (doesnt have to be anything could just be bread). you wanna help but the only instructions he gives you is to sit pretty, wearing his shirt and all. everytime he moves around the kitchen, he give u a lil peck on the lips if hes close enough to you. youre just sitting pretty like he asked, watching this man work and looking a little love struck cuz all you wanna do is pull him down and give him the fattest kiss for being so husband material

(dude, im yearning so much. thank u for writing a lot for jason 💞 ALSO ive seen u around in the cod tag so another thanks for ur fics there too 💞)

I’m sticking with the prompt cause I had unholy thoughts. An thank you! I appreciate your appreciation for my works ✨

This may be the tiniest bit suggestive 🌝

Time Written - 5:51 a.m

Baking at an early hour was somewhat new for Jason.

Baking at an early hour after an intense ending to an incredible date night was incredibly new for Jason.

His hands were occupied with an intriguing scene of soft dough and hard, rich yellow butter on a marble countertop. His muscles at work folding in the pockets of butter into the dough, pressing it with the heels of his palms.

“Morning, mama.” His morning voice held that early rasp in his tone that tickled you just right. You reciprocated his greeting as you walk into the kitchen, dressed in one of his shirts he aggressively yanked off the night before.

There he stood in grey sweatpants. Baking something delectable for seemingly no reason.

“What’s the occasion?” You question as you approach the counter, admiring his bed rugged hair adding onto his every attractive appearance.

“Cloudy outside, which means baking time.”

“Baking time?” The slightest glance at your cheeky little grin made him amusingly scoff.

“Baked goods,” he clarified with a head gesture behind him. “Coffee’s ready for ya, babe.”

Soon, the kitchen will flood with the warm aroma of browning butter and cooking sugar, invading throughout your home for a very long evening. Neighbors will get jealous over the smell of bakery air, hopefully helping them ignore the noises prior to the other night.

It was quite a sight to watch, his muscles flexing with a focused flare along his brow. You almost didn’t hear his insistence the second time towards the cinnamon coffee waiting in the pot for you.

“Gonna stick around? You’ll get first glance at what I’m making.”

“Which is?” You pry, watching him approach the sink to wash his hands.

“Crossiants,” he admits after drying his hands, giving the tip of your nose a peck. “With chocolate.”

“Look at you, my man’s a baker.” You smile while leaning against the counter, feeling your heart throb romantically from his chaste kisses.

“Not what you expected, huh?”

“What, my Red Hood busting skulls and baking? So many single moms would chase after you if they could.”

That comment has him unexpectedly laugh. Not the worst thing he’s been told, so he’ll take it. Poor single mothers, too bad he’s already taken.

“I thought you meant the chocolate would be inside?” You ask after peeking at the dough he wrapped up in cling wrap.

“No,” He shakes his head. “See, I thought that, but I like the idea of dipping them into melted chocolate a whole lot better.”

“Where’d you get the inspiration?”

“France,” he amusingly huffs with a shrug after approaching to take the packet you handed to him. “Thanks baby. Where else?”

He slips the packet of buttered dough into the fridge before turning towards the stove, almost running into you as you beat him to it, peering into a saucepan full of melted chocolate.

“Hey, hey.” Cool, clean hands gently grasped hold of your shoulders, gently nudging you away from his little workspace. “Easy on those eyes, almost knocked you into an accident.”

“Need some help with anything?” You offer, reminding him of when he used to ask his mother the same question. Happy little memories that brought embers of warmth in his heart.

“You can be of huge help,” He begins, calloused hands grazing down along your fingerprint shaped bruised hips before hoisting you up in his arms like a little doll.

“By sitting pretty, an’ letting me work.”

He plops you down on a stool he pulled out from the island counter, giving you a perfect little spot to watch him work. You slouch after he turns away, watching him return to his little objective on the stove.

“You just melt chocolate in the pan like that?”

“Sorta,” Jason tilts his head after grabbing a spoon, stirring the smooth, ganache-like chocolate concoction around. “France’s version of hot chocolate. Some milk, cream, a little sugar.”

You hum as a response, watching the muscles along the back of his left shoulder move as he enacts upon such a simple, minor task. Jason probably said something else, along the lines of not wanting such a beautiful body of chocolate boil on the stove, but it wasn’t much of your concern as it was his.

Maybe your main concern was how exactly did the scratches you left along his back didn’t break skin, clinging onto him for dear life as they flexed along your greedy palms.

He probably knew that, he was hiding a smile for all you could tell if you paid any attention.

“My girl want a taste?” He offers, his real gaze snapping your mind back into reality. You nod, anxiously sitting up in your seat.

He spoons warm, melted chocolate on the top of your tongue, watching it dribble down your bottom lip. The pink of your little tongue swiped up the remnants, all for Jason’s adoring gaze to witness.

Your reaction varies upon the subtle lack of sweetness from the chocolate.

“It’s not that sweet. Is it dark—?”

Your words are stolen when he kisses you, cradling your face within his two warm hands after carelessly setting down the spoon.

His heavy lidded gaze meets yours after breaking off the kiss, his cheeks flushed with affectionate warmth.

“Don’t know,” his glistening lips curve upwards after licking his lips. “Tastes pretty sweet to me.”

He turns away, as if he hadn’t committed such a crime in the first place.

You’re left watching once again, anxious nerves preventing you from sitting still. Fidgety fingers lingering in your lap, grasping along the lower hem of your shirt.

“Also coffee,” Jason pitches as if he forgot. “Added a little espresso to enhance the taste. You, uh… never got your coffee, babe.”

Oh. Right. The first thing he told you when you came in.

“Sorry,” you sheepishly admit, slightly shifting your hips whilst on the stool. “Got a little distracted.”

He chuckles, not even needing a detective’s mindset to understand fully why. “Did you now?”

Not giving you a chance to answer, Jason sets the saucepan off the burner before turning full attention towards you. Swooping you off the stool you sat, hoisting you ontop of a warm, clean counter.

His torso pressed against yours, keeping you comfortably confined between a marble surface and a hard place. His hands caress along your torso, thumbs trickling over your stiff nipples through your shirt, still sore from his teeth marks.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbles against the shell of your ear. His lips press against your neck as you swallow, kissing down along your collarbone. “Figured you’d have stayed sleeping in ‘till I was done here. Guessin’ last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Your fault for putting on a show.” You whisper, hooking your legs the best you could around his broad waist.

He chuckles against your neck, his excitement as palpable as his pearly smile expressed. “Your fault for watchin’, mama.”

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Hellfire (Priest! Miguel O’Hara x Demon! Fem! Reader) one shot

Oooooo Im very happy about this one. Based of the song from the hunchback of Norte dame. No idea how this got to the word count it did lol. Not proofread.

Religious imagery(Catholicism specifically), questioning of faith, the lyrics of the song does contain a certain that can be seen as distasteful/offensive, reader is a demonic entity (almost like a succubus), nsfw content but no smut (mdni), semi-dub con(???) (reader trying to convince Miguel to give into her, but it’s mostly teasing touches and stuff.), cursing, mentions of hell.

(Y/N)- Your name.

Word count: 2.6K

Masterlist

—

Confiteor deo

Omnipotenti

Beatae Mariae

Semper virgini

Beato Michaeli archangelo

Sanctis apostolis

Omnibus sanctis

—

With a heavy sigh, Miguel placed his rosary and his bible on his office’s desk. Another Sunday completed, all the services for the day were finished, along with clean up and the classes for the kiddos. It was now getting dark, the sun setting, leaving a beautiful painting of pink and orange hues in the sky. The church bells struck once, twice, three times, then one last time, signifying another hour having passed as Miguel put on his winter coat and gloves, because surely,it was still snowing outside , his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the empty ancient church. He stops at the start of the wooden pews, turning towards the front and placing his right hand to the top of his forehead.

“En el nombre del Padre.” (In the name of the father.)

His hand travels to the middle of his chest.

“Y del Hijo.” (The son)

To his left shoulder.

“Y del Espíritu…” (And the holy…)

To his right shoulder.

“Santo, Amén.” (spirit, Amen.)

Lastly, he brings his hand up and places a gentle kiss on the side of it, his eyes never leaving the stain glass portrait of the Virgin Mary that hung in the middle of the top of the stage as he said the prayer, before turning back around and exiting the church, a familiar sense of dread filling his chest as he closes the door behind him.

—

Beata Maria, you know I am a righteous man

Of my virtue I am justly proud (et tibit pater)

—

Miguel couldn’t sleep, he wouldn’t sleep.

He rubs his large hands over his face, his eye bags have been getting darker lately, he’s been lacking energy, and thanks to the little sleep he’s been receiving, it was only making it harder for him to fight off the temptation of sin. But it’s not like he could have a full night's rest, not when… Miguel shook his head in an attempt to rid the vile and unholy thoughts. Maybe tonight will be different, that was the lie he told himself every night.

Miguel placed his toothbrush back into the little blue cup onto his bathroom sink, bringing up a small, white hand towel to clean off the excess water that was spread on his lips, and began to run down his chin and onto his neck.

what a delicious sight.

Once he finally finished cleaning up the water on his chin, he dragged the towel over his sink counter to clean the water he had spilled while brushing, before placing it back on its little hook and exited the bathroom, turning off the lights and closing the door.

Maybe he wouldn’t have the same problem every night if he didn’t look so tempting, only sleeping in gray sweatpants.

He does a once-over of his house, making sure all the doors and windows are locked. Before finishing stopping in front of his bedroom, freezing right before the threshold of the door. His hands go up and join together in a praying signal, whispering for protection under his breath.

Like that’s ever helped him.

—

Beata Maria, you know I'm so much purer than

The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd (quia peccavi nimis)

—

The second he took the step into his bedroom, he felt a shiver run down his back. It felt like the temperature dropped once he walked in, he swore if he focused hard enough, he’d be able to see his own breath.

Despite his fight or flight senses screaming at him to run, he continued to venture further into his master bedroom. A simple wooden cross with golden accents hung over his bed, his eyes fixated on it. Miguel O’Hara, was a man of faith, he had to be in order to be the priest of his community’s church. He’s poured his whole life, soul and being into his religion, having been raised catholic since he was a mere infant. So why was it that every night, when he’d stared at the cross over his bed, the one that was supposed to protect him, did he start to doubt?

—

Then tell me, Maria, why I see her dancing there?

Why her smoldering eyes still scorch my soul? (cogitatione)

—

It always started the same.

He’d sleep somewhat soundly for a good amount of the night, once he was able to get his mind to stop racing.

He looked so adorable asleep, despite his colossal size.

He moves a lot, so his bed always becomes a bit disheveled, a pillow on the floor or a blanket halfway off the bed. Some light snores and some drool dripping out the corner of his mouth.

How could such a holy man be so delicious looking?

It was 3 am. Witching hour.

“Wake…”

“… up~”

“Wake up.”

—

I feel her, I see her

The sun caught in her raven hair

Is blazing in me out of all control (verb o et opere)

—

Miguel’s eyes shot open. Chest heaving as he takes rapid short breaths, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat. His eyes darting around his dark room in an attempt to find the source of the voice, only lifting his head as he did so.

He knew you were here.

Finally he finds a pair of dark glowing eyes at the foot of his bed, how did he miss it in the first place? He chalks it up to panic. A silence fell over the two of you for what felt like hours, an all too familiar sense of panic (and to Miguel’s horror, slight arousal) filled his senses. Finally, you break the silence.

“My my my… if it isn’t my favorite priest…” You said in a sing-songy tone, as you slowly climbed onto the bed, making Miguel’s stomach twist. He should push you off of him, he should banish you to the depths of hell, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it for some reason. He was paralyzed. You stopped crawling once you were fully over him. “Oh father… help me for I have sinned.” You said in a mocking tone, a shiver ran down his back once again as he let out a shaky breath, feeling your sharp fingernails trail down his chest, and stopping at the waistband of his sweats tugging at the band slightly.

—

Like fire

Hellfire

—

Finally coming to his senses, (much to your dismay) he finally pushes off you. Landing on the floor to the left side of the bed, with a small “oof” as he quickly scrambled to the over side of the bed in or to create distant between the two of you.

“Get out.” Miguel growled as he readjusted his sweats. You didn’t respond, rather, you brought your hand up to move some hair that had gotten into your face as you slowly walked around the bed and towards him. You looked how you always did when you would visit him. You could even be mistaken for a human if it weren’t for the horns, the wings and the long nails.

“Don’t act like that now, father. Aren’t you tired of this little game we play every night?” You asked with a head tilt, continuing to walk towards him as you spoke, your sentence coming out slow and drawn out, your tone nothing but pure seduction. Miguel closes his eyes as if they would deafen your words. Every step you take forward, he takes one back, before the back of his knees eventually hits the back of his bedside table, his hands going behind him to help stabilize himself to keep from falling back on top of it. “You pretend you don’t enjoy this-“

“I don’t.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Then why, pray tell, are you hard, father?” You smirked as you spoke., eyes drifting down to a very visible bulge in his sweats. “Have I finally done my job? Will this be the night you fall victim to temptation?” You said in a surprised, yet smug tone. Miguel felt his face burn up, a hand going behind him in search of something. “I will say, you do look quite handsome on your knees. I can give you something so much better to worship than God. You just have to give in to me, give in, father. Give in. Give in. Give in. Give. In.” You chant those two words like a mantra, your eyes begin to glow as you got closer, you were at arms length now. Your steps and words came to a sudden halt.

—

This fire in my skin

This burning desire

Is turning me to sin

—

Your eyes narrowed at the rosary Miguel was holding up in front of you in an attempt to protect himself from you.

“That’s not a very nice way to treat your guest.”

“You’re lucky I don’t banish you back to hell where you belong.” His words make you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Oh please, you would never. You and I both know that. Now put that thing down so I can corrupt my favorite human.” You attempted to move closer, only for him to double down. “Tell me Miguel, if you were really gonna ‘banish’ me or whatever. Why haven’t you done so already? I’ve been coming to you for a few weeks now? If you really wanted to get rid of me for good, you would have done so already. You’re a priest for god’s sake-“

“Don’t you dare use the Lord’s name in vain.”

“I’m a demon.” You deadpanned.

He hated to admit that you were right, he hated that he knew that you were. He’s surprised that you haven’t gotten bored in this game of cat and mouse yet. Every night you would appear in his room at the sametime, attempting to seduce him while he spat empty threats at you. Why hasn't he just gotten rid of you yet? It’s not like he doesn’t have the power to do so or the equipment. Maybe he was going insane, maybe he was losing it, or maybe…

No. He couldn’t.

He can’t just throw away his whole life’s work just because a demon who happened to be conventional pretty keeps pestering every night. He couldn’t allow himself to give in to temptation. He wouldn’t allow himself to be corrupted by your glowing eyes that seem like they could stare into his soul forever, or your sultry voice that made his heart skip a beat, your plump lips that would pull up into a smirk whenever you’d question him, how the say you would tilt your head made him weak in the knees- oh how he wish he could worship your body on his knees like you were a goddess- no, fuck.

“Get out.” Miguel repeated, his voice becoming tighter, his knuckles turning white. He takes a step forward, you take one back and frown. “Get. Out!”

He blinks, you're gone.

—

It's not my fault (mea culpa)

I'm not to blame (mea culpa)

It is the gypsy girl the witch who sent this flame (mea maxima culpa)

—

It’s been a few weeks since your last visit, much to Miguel’s surprise. He should be relieved, he should be thanking the heavens up above that he was finally able to extract such a vile presence from his life, he doesn’t feel a pit in his stomach when he enters his own home anymore, it doesn’t feel like the temperature in his room is 20 degrees colder than it is in the hallway leading into it anymore, he doesn’t feel like like there’s this constant ghost lingering over his shoulder anymore. So why wasn't he at peace?

Your lack of presence was almost just as unbearable. In a twisted way, he became accustomed to it. Maybe this was another of your tricks, attempting to perform classic conditioning on him. Get him used to you by the constant attention from your nightly visits, butter him up despite his protest, making his body burn up with the way your touch lingers on his body too long, the way his eyes always drop to your mouth when you lick your lips, the way the word father would leave your lips in a way that made it sound like you’ve just sinned and he was the only one who could help you reach eternal salvation again, just to pull it all away from him within a snap of a finger to see how long it would take for him to crumble. You were Pavlov, and Miguel was just the dog whose mouth started to water at the sound of a bell.

The church was empty besides himself, he was kneeling before the crucifix that was placed next to the portrait of the Virgin Mary, eyes closed, his hands folded together in a fist as he he dips his head down, nose touching his hands as he silently prayed for forgiveness for allowing you to slowly chip away at his self-restraint. He heard the large front door open, he didn’t open his eyes but his head came up as he spoke.

“I’m sorry my child, the church is closed.”

“I needed to see you though, father.”

Miguel’s eyes snapped open. He knew that voice all too well.

—

It's not my fault (mea culpa)

If in God's plan (mea culpa)

He made the Devil so much stronger than a man (mea maxima culpa)

—

“How-“ Miguel was stunned, not only have you reappeared after weeks, you were also standing inside of a church, his church. You looked so beautiful, you looked like an actual human, your nails, although still sharp and point looked more like acrylics rather then claws, you weren’t dawning your bat-like wings and your horns weren’t poking out of your hair, if Miguel had passed by you on the street, he’d be none the wiser. It only made him crack more, imagining what it would be like in a different world where there wasn’t shame and taboo keeping him away from you. Where you aren’t a soulless, heartless creature. “How’s you get in here?” He finally got the question out, his eyes narrowed into slits as he took a step back, almost fumbling his footing and tripping.

“We can enter churches if we find a weak point.” You stated as you made your way towards him, Miguel’s eyes dropped instantly to your hips, how they swayed with each step you take, his mouth went dry and he instinctively licked his lips. “I wonder what that weak point is?” You teased as you stopped in front of him, your lips pulling up into a smirk.

—

Protect me, Maria

Don't let this siren cast her spell

Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone

Destroy Esmeralda

And let her taste the fires of hell

Or else let her be mine and mine alone

—

He don’t know how it happened, one minute he was standing face to face in front of you, then the next, you both were in his office in the back of the church, you were sitting on top of his desk as he kneeled in front of you, his rough hands wondering and running around your legs, and he planted soft light kisses all over them. In between each one, he’d whispered a small pile of forgiveness from God, but he couldn’t stop himself anymore.

—

Hellfire

Darkfire

Now gypsy, it's your turn

Choose me or your pyre

Be mine or you will burn

—

“You never told me your name…” Miguel mumbled into your skin, his face buried against your inner thigh as he looked up at you.

“You wouldn’t be able to pronounce my actual name. Just… call me (Y/N).” You cooed as you ran a hand through his hair, before bringing it down to his cheek. Miguel leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. He was completely and utterly yours now.

“(Y/N)…” He whispered the name like a prayer.

—

Kyrie eleison

God have mercy on her

Kyrie eleison

God have mercy on me

Kyrie eleison

But she will be mine

Or she will burn

[mackjlee9]

im not sure if you write for re characters besides leon so idk if this idea is going to be appealing to you but like. imagine ftm!leon getting sandwiched by reader and another character such as carlos or chris and he just feels so full after being pumped full of cum in his two holes🏃‍♂️

*unholy thoughts*

FTM!Leon Kennedy x Top!Male!Reader x Carlos Oliveira [Smut]

This had a plot I swear, but I couldn't be bothered to write it. Also, who's canon? Don't know them 😬

Masterlist.

Resident Evil

Breathless moans escaped Leon's mouth with every deep thrust inside his pulsing pussy. His eyes closed every so often, but the pleasurable pain he felt when his clit was slapped made him open again, looking down at (M/n), who was comfortably laying on the bed, watching him get his cunt fucked by Carlos.

It was really nice sight if he was honest, his cock twitched watching how his best friend fucked Leon senseless, keeping a tight hold on his forearms as he pounded him from behind, stretching his tight pussy.

Carlos let out grunts and groans, feeling Leon's walls tightening around his throbbing cock, he could feel himself about to cum, and even if it was so warm and nice inside him, he had to pull out, at least this once.

He let go of one of Leon's arms, and the blond struggled to hold his weight off of (M/n)'s body, but he had no strength, and he ended up laying on his chest when his other arm was released. (M/n) gently stroked Leon's hair to help him calm down a bit, feeling how much his body was trembling, his inner thighs all wet and sticky from the orgasms he had.

Leon whined when he felt Carlos's cock rutting against his ass, moving his hips back to get help him get off, making Carlos groan as his hands held his hips tightly, moving faster for a few seconds until Leon felt his warm cum spilling all over his ass.

But they barely started having fun.

Carlos held Leon's cheeks spread apart, watching his pink, puckered hole clenching around nothing, his cum dripping down inside him and further down. He leaned down and licked his cum before it reached Leon's pussy, feeling his body tensing and shaking from the stimulation of his tongue around his hole.

"Wa-wait, Carlos-," he got off with a whimper when he felt something thick entering past his wet folds, crying out and gripping (M/n)'s shoulder as he felt his cock pushing slowly, barely getting the tip inside.

(M/n) made sure to have Leon distracted enough with shallow thrusts and sweet words to let him know he was in good hands, he and Carlos were gonna take good care of him. And it worked, Leon couldn't think of anything else besides (M/n)'s twitching cock and Carlos's skillful tongue stretching both of his holes.

It felt so good, and yet, it wasn't enough. He wanted more, he needed more of them.

"Please, please... More, I want more~," Leon's whimpers made both of them tighten their grips on the blond's body, making him whine and squirm, "Please, just... Fuck me more, please."

He sounded so embarrassed and yet so needy, it was hard to resist him. Carlos backed away and positioned himself back to his previous position, leaning down to Leon's ear.

"This is gonna hurts, you sure can you take it, baby?" Leon looked at (M/n) before glancing back into Carlos' eyes, nodding as his sight lowered to the male's lips, who smirked as he realized, "Good boy."

Pressing their lips together, Carlos slowly started pushing his cock inside Leon's ass, letting him take deep breaths and release groans whenever he needed, and eventually, he bottomed out, his whole cock wrapped tightly by Leon's wet walls.

"Fuck- you feel so good," he grunted, pressing his forehead on Leon's back, taking shaky breaths as he got the blond used to his size.

"You like this, don't you?" (M/n)'s hand traced gently patterns on his waist as he also began pushing his entire length inside his dripping pussy, making Leon's eyes roll into the back of his head, "You like having us inside you? Stretching your holes with our cocks?"

Leon released a high-pitched moan, his nails leaving scratch marks on (M/n)'s chest, making him hiss at the slightly stinging pain he felt.

"I fucking love it... It feels so fucking good," he mumbled between curses, his entire body trembling at how full he felt, "Fuck me, please please, fuck- please fuck me full of your cum~."

Making brief eye contact, both (M/n) and Carlos knew they wouldn't be able to hold back, they were gonna use Leon's weak body to pump him full of their thick cum, just like he asked, but (M/n) had half a mind before completely losing himself to the pleasure.

"Leon, do you know your safe word?" The blond nodded, moaning as Carlos started pulling out before thrusting back inside him.

"It's-It's... It's r-red, (M/n) please, move t-too..." Gritting his teeth, (M/n) gripped Leon's waist and started thrusting up, following Carlos' pace for a few seconds, he watched Leon's eyes filling with tears, hearing him whimper and throw his head back, hitting Carlos' chest slightly, "Fuck yes~ so good~."

The wet squelching sound of their skin slapping follows, mixing with Leon's cries and whimpers for more, groans and grunts coming from (M/n) and Carlos, fucking the blond pressed between them as deep as they could, wanting nothing more than to absolute fuck him stupid on their cocks.

They could hear Leon's breaking voice calling their names, followed by a chain of broken moans and whines, his mouth wide open as drool dripped down his chin, his eyes constantly rolling into the back of his head, his hands clutching onto (M/n)'s shoulder, his body being held by their grip on his waist and hips.

"'S so... Good..." He managed to babble, making both of them smirk, stopping their relentless thrusts as they made Leon cockwarm them, causing him to squirm and squeal at the feeling.

(M/n) held Leon's throat while Carlos' hand moved to slowly rub circles on his puffy and sensitive clit, making tears run down his flushed face with a broken cry.

"We're not going hard enough if you can still talk, darling," Leon's eyes stared at (M/n) with an enamored look in his glossy eyes, hearing his quiet whines and mewls as his hand pressed on the sides of his neck, "We'll make sure we're fucking you the way you want to, baby."

[lovexjoe]

Make a vampire smut where Armando kidnaps the reader

A/N: This is the 3rd request for vampire Armando and I got y’all 😫

Synopsis: Vampires can imprint 😌 Armando didn't realize what happened during a shootout when he first saw you. His heart stopped, the world slowed down and all his thoughts were consumed by you. A mix between vampires from twilight and vampires from tvd

It’s been 2 weeks since you’ve been trapped in this house with Captain’s killer. It probably had to do with the fact that Mike and Marcus made you tag along on a mission when you were suppose to be dropped off at home. Uncle Marcus had ONE JOB. Pick you up from class and drop you home, but no. With the discovery of Mike having a warlock son, you got caught in between everything. There was something odd about Armando. He made sure you had food, clothes and let’s you shower etc. He lets you roam around the house during the day time. At night though? He locks you in the basement. He was gone as soon as the sun set. He was handsome even you could admit that. It was a bit distracting since you got here, sometimes you couldn't help but stare at him. It was 9pm and you were insanely bored. You tried your luck by opening the basement door, to your surprise: it opened. Maybe this is your chance to escape? What was even out there? You looked out the window to see you were in the middle of nowhere and decided that it’s probably best to find a phone. Taking a risk in the forest is probably not the best way to survive. You rummage around the kitchen to see if you could find any device that you could use to contact your Uncle but no.

After 10 minutes of trying to search around you decided to give up. Yes you were kidnapped, but you weren't technically in danger. He is Mike's son after all he was probably just keeping you as leverage. You opened the fridge to grab some water and your heart stopped. No fucking way You heard Uncle Marcus and Mike talking about Isabel being a witch, but what in the entire fuck did she do to her son?!? The fridge was stocked up with blood bags, a few had a bite marks you didn't even want to identify. No....FUCK no. No wonder he was taking care of you, he was preparing me for dinner! You saw this bullshit on tv, but you didn't think it was actually true. You backed straight into someone and let out the first scream since you been kidnapped. Armando covers your mouth, his eyes a golden yellow with bloody veins. You were trying not to have a panic attack.

"Just relax. I was going to tell you." He slowly removes his hand from your mouth and honestly you should be heading for the fucking hills but your feet was planted in place.

"Why?!" If you were in his position you would've kept this to yourself. He constantly scans your face when he's talking to you as if he's trying to read your mind. Well I hope the fuck he can't cause I've thought some unholy shit and now im thinking of killing him!

"My mom did this to me. I don't think my dad realize that she was a vampire as well. We...we imprint on people whose suppose to be our soulmates. When I saw you during the shootout, I imprinted on you and I just took you away from everything" He leans against the island, looking at you. Wishing he could read you, but for some reason he can't.

So that confirms that you weren't leverage, but you were actually kidnapped cause he likes you. Hm. Do you scream now or later?

"If you come any closer I'll kill you!" You stated as you move quickly trying to find a way to escape. He appears in front of you and you slam full force into his chest. You grabbed a vase and threw it at him causing it to shatter all over the floor. You looked for the largest piece and cut yourself horribly trying to pick it up. You start to panic as he holds your hand filled with blood. He's gonna kill me, he gonna kill me, he's gonna kill me. He rips his shirt, creating a bandage to wrap your wound tightly. Your head starting to feel a little funny.

'A-armando I don't feel good" After that sentence you passed out into his arms.

Armando POV.

Sigh. I can't read her mind at all. She is the only person I have ever come across that I can't read her mind. Being a vampire is a curse and a blessing. The only reason I've been such a successful drug dealer is because I know what the other person is thinking. Always a step ahead, but with her? With this stupid imprint, I am lost for the first time. I find myself caring. I find myself wanting her. This shit is pathetic. During the shootout my first thing after imprinting was getting her away from the danger. Sure having her as leverage was a bonus, but now that she is under my watch I am not letting her go.

She passed out in my arms, I laid her down in my bed for the first time instead of the basement. Cleaning her wound, her blood smelled divine, I fought myself from taking a little taste. My body wouldn't be able to control itself and I'd feel too guilty if I were to hurt her. I tuck her in bed, sitting in the lounge chair in front of my bed, trying my hardest to read her mind. What could she be thinking of? ...fuck...

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　

The next morning you were sat on the barstool at the kitchen island. Armando was cooking breakfast. You admired his biceps in his white tank top. Your hand feeling a slight sting from last night's incident. You didn't mean to cause such a wreckage, but apart of you felt happy he took care of you last night. Waking up in his scent, under his covers did something to your core. He's leaving his mark on you and he hasn't even touched you. He's a vampire for god sake. You wanted to speak, but you couldn't find the words. After your steaming hot shower, Armando cleaned up your wound once again. Seeing you wrapped up in just a towel, your hair wet, body radiating coconut vanilla: it took his entire being not to touch you. You wanted him to touch you. It felt wrong but you wanted it.

"Armando.....I want you to kiss me" You blurted out. He turns around looking at you surprised. He turns off the stove, picking you up and carrying you over to his bed. You pulled him in for a sinful kiss. His lips are so soft. Where the fuck was this coming from? Yes you felt this, but it was wrong. Your mouth and body was already doing things before you could even think. Is he controlling you!?

Before you could even process a thought, clothes were ripped completely off and you were on top of him. His size was the biggest you ever came across, but you held him close and you rode him.

"Y/N" He moans out, his golden eyes drunk with lust as he guides your hips on top of him.

"B-bite me" You moaned out. He shook his head, he didn't want to ruin this moment by hurting you. You started to bounce up and down faster on his length.

"Bite me please! I want it!" You cried out, close to your orgasm already. In an instant, his teeth sinks into your shoulder and you let out a gasp.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

You jumped out of your sleep, sweating profusely. A set of golden eyes staring back at you seductively. Out of breath you looked around the room realizing it was still dark out, you still had on the same clothes from last night....

It was a dream....

[forlorn-crows]

and so it goes

an aftercare fic to this one by @miasmaghoul. started out as some cute little musings about how absolutely sweet rain is to mountain after spending the entire night degrading him, turned into some weird 1.6k thing with subdrop and rain giving mountain the support i wish i had some years ago. im sorry if i've ruined the included billy joel song for you now, but it's so mountrain and i wont be hearing otherwise.

Pairing: Mountain/Rain

Tags (TW in red): edging, dom/sub, degradation, aftercare, subspace, subdrop, emotional hurt/comfort, mountain needs a hug, i wanna tear my hair out with how perfect they are,

Words: 1652

(or below the cut)

Rain’s kept him on the edge for so long, he doesn’t know if he can form the words he so desperately needs to. They sit heavy on his tongue, the appendage much too dry and big for his mouth as the water ghoul works him over with skilled and precise hands. After Rain came—a result of riding Mountain’s cock like nothing more than a toy used for his own pleasure, keeping the earth ghoul hovering on the edge of orgasm with his magick so he wouldn’t bust immediately like he was wont to do—Mountain was offered a short reprieve as he caught his breath, the vice-like grip on his pleasure retracting some. 

Between the whimpering and the sniffling, Mountain probably only got one full lungful of air in before Rain’s hands were on him, stroking his stiff dick and squeezing his balls. He had nearly cracked his back with how fast he arched into it, gripping the sheets so hard his claws tore through them. 

He’s close again now, balls aching, cock straining. He can hear the blood rushing through his veins, feel every stroke, every caress, every swipe of Rain’s thumb or grip of his fist. It’s agony. It’s unholy. It’s so sinful that Mountain’s fully past any coherent thought at all, floating in nothingness, skin buzzing with pain and pleasure alike. 

“ S-sir, ” he slurs. 

“Oh, he can speak,” Rain says cruelly. “Ask for it, and then you can cum.” The hand on his balls squeezes harshly, wringing a voice-cracked moan from Mountain’s throat. A bead of precum spurts from the head of his cock.

“Pl–ea–ssee,” he strains. “Been— hnnn —good.”

“You have,” Rain admits. “But I need a little more,” he coos, “just a little more. Need to know you really want it.”

Mountain sobs, a high, wounded sound that says everything about how deep he is. “C’n I cum, sir?” he blubbers out. Really, he’s going to cum in the next two seconds whether Rain allows him to or not, but it rushes on that much faster once he manages to spit out the request for permission. 

Rain grins, all fang. Devious. Sinister. “Then squirt, whore,” he growls. His wrist twists just so, and Mountain is gone, cumming so hard his lungs burn and his throat goes raw from shouting some garbled excuse for thankyouthankyouthankyou . 

Mountain's down too deep to see how much he shoots over Rain's hands, over his own stomach. Each kick of his cock wracks his entire body and tears a cry from his lips. Rain's saying something that he can't hear. But through the haze his words are sweeter, slower—if Mountain strained he could hear the praise. But he doesn't.

Rain watches in real time his mind power all the way off, eyes squeezing so tight the tears spring from the corners and his entire face turns a rosy pink. He runs soothing hands over his thighs, hoping he can at least feel the intention behind it. Soon, his cries turn to whimpers, and he melts boneless into the bed, breathing hard and deep. 

It's not long after that the raspy breaths turn to snores, sleep taking him before he can even lift his head to look at Rain. 

He wakes to the feeling of a cool towel against his skin. Mountain blinks open bleary eyes to see Rain gently wiping it over his chest, cleaning up any trace of mess lingering there.

He hums, smiles crookedly. Mountain's still floaty, not quite all there just yet. 

"Hi love," Rain says warmly. "That feel okay?" 

He nods. "S'nice," he mumbles. His voice vibrates with a purr he too slowly realizes is coming from his own chest, low and rumbly and content.

Rain laughs, a sweet, melodic sound. "Still feeling good, hm?"

Mountain's eyes track up to his face, slow and sluggish. He blinks. "Wha'?"

Rain laughs again. He places the cloth aside, leaning down instead to place equally cool kisses onto his face. Mountain chirps in surprise, purrs getting louder the more kisses he receives.

"You stay down there as long as you'd like. As long as you need. I'll be here," Rain assures. 

When he sits back up, Mountain has a lovestruck look on his face. It's cute, Rain thinks. His big puppy. He tells him as much, cooing down at him until he blushes and buries his face into Rain's stomach, purrs so loud the water ghoul can feel it buzzing through him.

Rain cards his long fingers through Mountain's hair. He moves in rhythmic, hypnotic little patterns, scratching around the base of his horns and behind his ears every so often, just as he likes. Mountain's tail beats against the mattress everytime, to the water ghoul's delight.

"Rain," Mountain mumbles into his tummy. His arms curl around his waist, hugging him closer.

Rain intertwines his tail with the earth ghoul's. "Yes, my love?"

Mountain gives a pleased trill, peeking up at Rain with sleepy, affectionate eyes. "Will you sing t' me?" 

"Of course, anything you want." 

"The pretty one?" Mountain specifies. As if he ever asks for a different one.

Rain smiles. "The pretty one," he agrees. Mountain gives a pleased rumble and tucks his face back into Rain's stomach. The water ghoul isn’t sure why Mountain’s always referred to it as such; it’s really nothing particularly special. Though, Rain supposes, it’s become special to them. He takes a breath and softly begins to sing:

In every heart there is a room

A sanctuary safe and strong

To heal the wounds from lovers past

Until a new one comes along

Mountain sighs and gives another pleased rumble, shuffling closer and curling his entire body around Rain’s crossed legs. He cradles the earth ghoul’s head with one hand, running the other up and down his back. 

I spoke to you in cautious tones

You answered me with no pretense

And still I feel I said too much

My silence is my self defense

And every time I've held a rose

As if on cue, a shiver runs down Mountain’s back as Rain’s voice pitches up. He smooths over the goosebumps as he continues:

It seems I only felt the thorns

And so it goes, and so it goes

And so will you, soon, I suppose

But if my silence made you leave

Then that would be my worst mistake

So I will share this room with you

And you can have this heart to break

Rain hums the melody where the piano would play, glancing down at the ghoul curled around him. His shoulders start to shake, and he sniffles into the water ghoul’s shirt—attempting, but failing, to be silent about his tears. 

Rain stops. “Mountain, love, what’s wrong?” Immediately he shakes his head at the question, whining quietly. “Hey,” Rain urges, petting back his hair. “I’m here for you, can you try to tell me?”

Hurts , Mountain pushes into his mind. 

“Where does it hurt?” Rain asks gently. 

The earth ghoul pulls back an arm from around his waist, gesturing to his own chest. Rain can see his face screw up, a silent prayer to stop the oncoming sob that threatens to work its way out of his throat. In here , he says. He points weakly to the side of his head too. And here. 

Mountain drops his hand down and the tears start in earnest, his entire body shaking as they worm their way out. 

“Oh, love,” Rain sighs. He curls in on himself, draping over Mountain’s head and upper back. He can’t risk detangling himself just to get comfortable, less the loss of contact make him spiral further. “I’m here. It’s alright, just let it all come out.”

‘M sorry. Even the voice from his mind is watery, remorseful. All at once he crashes, the endorphins finally running out and shifting into anxiety and shame. He sobs into Rain’s torso—awful, gut-wrenching noises that shudder from his body involuntarily. Sobs that make Rain’s heart simply ache .

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers into Mountain’s hair. “Absolutely nothing at all.”

Was I good for you? The question hits Rain like a ton of bricks; he knows how Mountain is feeling, of course he does. It’s an unfortunate symptom of floating on a high for so long, of letting Rain do absolutely heinous, disgusting things to him in the name of pleasure. That doesn’t mean it hurts any less to hear, especially in such a meek, small voice. 

“Shh,” he soothes. “The best. The best I could ever ask for. You always, always are.”

Mountain bawls, shaky arms gripping him like a lifeline. And Rain just holds him. Holds him with all the love he can muster, all the stability he can offer. There’s so much more he could say. But it goes unsaid, doesn’t need to be said. 

Once Mountain calms a little, the sobs turning more towards hiccups and sniffles, Rain sits up again. “Not going anywhere,” he reassures before Mountain can protest. “Do you want me to tuck you under the blanket?”

The earth ghoul scrubs his face into Rain’s t-shirt in an effort to signal yes . 

Rain combs through his hair. “Okay, love, I’m just gonna reach for it, and I’ll tuck you in.” He grabs the comforter from its crumpled heap at the foot of the bed and drags it up to Mountain’s huddled form. “There we go,” he soothes, adjusting it so it’s tucked nice and snug along his backside and draped half-open at his face. 

Mountain chirps quietly, the closest to a thank you he can muster for his mate. 

“Anything for my love,” Rain answers, placing a soft kiss on one of his horns. It may not be enough to make the unpleasantness go away, but for now it helps ease a little more of the hurt. Mountain shuffles close and sighs.

For now, it’s enough.

[onesidedradiostatic]

I’m so sorry for this anon 😭 no due date on this! or ever. Maybe delete. Its passing on brainrot, like rabies

Imagine, if you will… dust is settling after vox and alastor have kicked major overlord ass. rubble and corpses still on fire. dramatic not-last-jedi music swells as they both catch their breath and their eyes meet. Vox closes the distance between them… there’s a beat of suspense (popcorn noises)

“I want you to join me. We can rule together and bring a new order to Hell”

“Don’t do this, Vox. Please don’t go this way.”

“N- no, you’re still!! Holding on!! Let go!! Do you wanna know the truth about your marketing reach? It’s LIMITED. You have no professional marketing training, you come from nothing. You’re nothing. But not to me.” OK SIKE I CANT DO THIS BIT ANYMORE

but imagine if Vox pulled out a PowerPoint Presentation with stonks graphs, logos, matching power-couple costume sketches, merch, HQ tower blueprints that he’s had in development for months etc. Or he’s like “we could make beautiful content together you know what I mean? like, an… intimate merrrgerrrr. but nothing full on if you’re not into that haha, I mean you’d set the pace, or I could..? I guess what I’m saying is… I’m gonna be candid here *wipes sweat, shakes nervous fanboy energy from his hands* Alastor The Radio Demon, would you do me the honor of accepting my proposal, and being partners with benefits” cringecringecringe typing all that was a copypasta nightmare. the bit never ends

And alastor says something like “haha you couldn’t pay me to! You think I’d lower my standards? Throw away my integrity? How deluded!” Throw some shame and humiliation onto vox’s emotional dumpster fire. Or really to the point: “I reject your business proposal. I’d rather die.” all because

1. ego, and

2. he thought the logos were ugly

I need it to be an UNHOLY, CRINGE DISASTER. Like i wanna be drafting my WILL from the secondhand embarrassment I want it nuclear.

but at the same time a really simple non-event would also be hilarious, considering what a huge issue Vox has made of it. Mountain out of a molehill

this reads like it escaped my immortal im so sorry

LMAOOOO NAH dw I love vox just being as cringe as humanly possible when it comes to alastor, like it could've been something simply or maybe he did make a huge show out of it, a really dramatic """business proposal""", something he poured his whole heart into a blunt "ha! no" from alastor. yeah if he was that cringe and ended up being rejected anyways making it all be for nothing I think I'd understand why he ended up being so salty

[succubus-interactivefiction]

Oops, I did it again

or rather my crazy sleep schedule and a sheer number of cups of coffee meant I didn't get much sleep last night, especially after this idea popped into my head and refused to leave until I jotted it down. So here's yet another Witching Hour Story Idea, yes that's what I call these weird story plots that slip into my mind. Anywhoooo, below the cut...Gods Im tired

Hellfire

Ten years ago the world as you knew it ended. It has come to be known as The Scouring, wherein a twenty four hour period, as the dawn swept across the face of the world, people simply vanished leaving no trace behind. In a single day ninety percent of the world's population had disappeared. Those who had advanced warning tried to outrun the morning light, world leaders took to the skies chasing the night in the hope that as long as they outran the day they would survive, there are tales of some planes and their crews who are still chasing that thin line in the belief that they can stay safe.

For the rest of the world however, life quickly devolved into a mad scramble for survival as survivors turned on one another in an effort to secure whatever remained of the world, that first year saw an even greater decrease in the remaining population. However those survivors did not have the peace of simply vanishing, no they died in brutal, bloody fights for survival. You are one of those who survived that bloody time.

Five years ago the world seemed to have come to some sense of equilibrium as something resembling society was carved from the ruins by warlords and peacekeepers across the globe, but whatever fragile peace the world had settled into was again destroyed when the veil fell. Across the world random survivors suddenly found themselves mutating traits many religions attributed to other worldly beings, in essence, over night, demons and angels became manifest.

The world was again thrown into turmoil as cults and fanatics rose to worship those who have, what they believe, is divine blood. It is only in the last year that things have finally settled into a new state of semi balance.

But for you, one of the Cambion, the simple life you have managed to scrape out of the apocalypse will be torn apart because of a simple reunion with someone you have long thought dead. You will now have to decide the fate of hundreds of thousands of lives along the west coast of North America as you become the central focus of a continent spanning conflict that has the potential to, once again, throw the world into turmoil.

Features

Play as a Cis or Trans woman, with full customization over your physical appearance.

Customize your daemonic appearance with options that allow you to seem almost human, or simply embrace your daemonic essence and make yourself a walking war machine. Be warned however that not everyone responds well to such beings.

Play with literal hellfire as you wield unholy abilities on the field of battle, or use your minor reality warping abilities to ensure that cute dress fits your towering daemonic frame.

Manage your new fortress city of Portland after ripping it from the claws of a former employer to save an old flame and try to make life better for the humans living under your rule.

Befriend and/or romance your former girlfriend whom you thought died in The Scouring, a Nephilim fanatic who needs to learn to not judge a book by its cover, or both at the same time in a polyamorous triad.

Wage war against a fanatical cult led by a pair of Nephilim twins hell bent on recreating the world in their own image.

Romance Options

Misty May | Human | Your Former Girlfriend Age: 27 Height: 5’7” Build: Athletic Eye Color: Hazel Hair Color: Black Skin Tone: Coffee Notable Features: Multiple scars from struggling to survive the last ten years Character Traits: Quiet, Easily startled, Secretive Tropes: Trauma, First Love, Return From The Dead, Second Chances

Your first girlfriend, you assumed Misty had died during The Scouring while she was on the east coast visiting family. This is a belief you have held to in the ten years since the apocalypse. The two of you had been inseparable from the first moment she shoved a bully away from you in the first grade, that was Misty, always standing up for others and putting herself in harm's way if it meant someone else would be spared pain. You remember her near constant smile and quick wit with fondness and despite everything that has happened in the past ten years just the memory of her helps you go on.

Arial | Nephilim | The Stubborn Nephilim Age: 22 Height: 6’3” Build: Voluptuous Eye Color: Gold Hair Color: Silver Skin Tone: Olive Notable Features: Four large angelic wings, glowing eyes Character Traits: Stubborn, Dense, Loving Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Love, Coming Out

One of the humans who became a Nephilim, Arial was seventeen when her change occurred to the shock of her parents and the small community they had joined. Of the hundred members of the town only one other person changed, a seven year old boy manifested Cambion traits and these two distinct changes sent shockwaves through the people and seemed to send most of them into some form of madness. While Arial was uplifted and worshiped the young boy was locked away, beaten, tortured, and to Arial’s horror one morning he was sacrificed in front of her as the townsfolk believed she was an avatar of God. Arial ran away the next day but was soon found by a cult led by two Nephilim twins. Taking her in they manipulated her, twisting her mind to their belief system and eventually sent her out on her own to hunt Cambion, she was captured and imprisoned almost immediately. This is where you find her, locked away in a cell in the Portland fortress city.

Others

Gabriella | Nephilim | Cult Leader

The insane leader of a militant cult spreading from Salt Lake City, Gabriella, along with her demented brother Michael, believe that it is their divine duty to rid the world of all Cambion as well as any Nephilim who will not bend the knee. Unlike her brother, Gabriella at first seems to have full control of her faculties, but her frequent lapses into inane and uncontrolled giggling seem to suggest otherwise.

Michael | Nephilim | Cult General

The de facto General of the cult's growing army, Michael spends more of his time engaging in incestuous relations with his sister than actually leading troops on the field of battle. Being just as insane as his sister, if not even more unstable, he believes that no one can defeat him in combat. His explosive outbursts when someone proves better than him at anything are well known among the cult.

Rubidor | Cambion | Your Aide-de-camp

Someone you could consider a friend, if you use the bare minimum of the meaning, Rubidor was your point of contact for jobs when passing through the area, that was before your unintended coup however. Now he is the only one you trust to see your orders are relayed to their respective recipients and even more importantly obeyed.

Lohi | Human | Rebel Leader

Lohi had spent four years building up his rebel group in the fortress city of Portland before you simply swept in and cut the head off the former ruler, taking his place as leader. All his plans have been disrupted because of this, but he is undeterred and is adamant that humanity will be free of the daemonic scourge that enslaves them.

Marky | Human | Insane Seeress

One of the few truly free humans living in Portland, Marky is nearly blind and each vision brings her closer to nevering being able to see light again. Despite this she remains relatively upbeat and is more than willing to lend her abilities to someone she considers worthy of her visions. Of course she did consider the former ruler of Portland worthy, so her definition may differ from most others.

Gram | Daemon | Your Multi-Great Grandmother

The only true daemon currently roaming the surface of the planet. Loves life in all its forms, but will burn it all to ash for her only grandchild. Bakes cupcakes in her spare time.

[holybibly]

hi mommy, idk if im a bunny or not hshshs but i came across your yandere roommate seonghwa and you posted it on my birthday (9th august) so i feel like its my birthday present and i love it so much

but its so short and i want more :( also you did that poll thingy and yandere roommate seonghwa lost so could you please write a longer version of it for me? please pretty please mommy 🥺

Don't you think you're being too greedy, darling? But, I keep telling you, unholy thoughts are basically little teasers of my future full-length works.

At some point in time I'm just going to post a full ff about it. But for now, you should be grateful for what you've been given, otherwise I'll have to punish you, and I'm very inventive when it comes to punishment.

[coconox]

my whb progress 2

as of apr 7, 2024

since whb's half anni has passed, i thought i'd do a progress check to reflect on how much has happened btwn now and this post

general info

lvl: 47

status: 🤨 mostly f2p

i say mostly cause i just recently broke the f2p status and bought bp for ppyong

i refuse to buy packs and in the future i'll prob be very selective over who i pick for bp (aka i wont buy every bp), so for the most part i'll just be having the f2p experience

when i started: launch (10/03 my timezone)

ver: erolabs

team setup

i finally have levi now lmao

sometimes i'll switch out one of the levis for attacker satan but this is what i use generally

everyone's lvls and artifacts

skill lvls (normal atk-ult-passive)

attacker mammon: 1-3-1

selfie mammon: 4-5-4

selfie satan: 4-4-1

selfie beel: 4-4-4

bloodshed levi: 3-3-1

selfie levi: 3-3-1

secret club

i only work on completing mammon's unholy board

stuck on needing attacker mammon's sig atm :'))

materials

too lazy to screenshot it all but im basically broke on pies, tears, pretzels (tbf i dont play the minigame whatsoever), red keys, yellow keys, and seals

everything else im either ok in supply or overflowing w it

overall thoughts / reflection

this section is for me to look back on in the future when i do progress posts. i'll break down this section into multiple parts similar to my prev post for consistency

STORY

honestly, its interesting in concept. since sadly only 1 chapter has released btwn now and my last post so thoughts havent really drastically changed

ch5 imo wasnt really a full on hades chapter. yes, it takes place in hades and yes we get some intro abt hades, but i think this was supposed to act more like a bridge to tartaros, which is prob why we didnt have any h scenes w any hades chars aside from levi. ofc we'll get back to it being hades-focused eventually, but the story for a while is most likely gonna pivot to tartaros bc of that big lore drop abt mammon at the end

i assume we'll prob be introduced to the cherubs in tartaros bc of selaphiel txting us near the end + it being mentioned at the end that theres a hub of angels in the lab, and hopefully part 2 of mammon's h scene. it was strange at first for mammon to only have 1 h scene, compared to satan or levi that had 2, but w him implying theres probably gonna be a part 2 in his h scene + we'll most likely see him again in ch6 (or however many chapters tartaros will be played out), we'll prob experience part 2 in his home country. tbh that prob just me inhaling MASSIVE hopium since mammon isnt rlly that popular but i can dream ok-

i hope us being in tartaros doesnt last for just 1 chapter. you cant condense the experiments tartaros went through to create a clone of mammon only for them to fail + bring up the fact that the seed is prob also in tartaros in just 1 chapter. well— technically you can, but not at the pace chapters are at atm. chapters have roughly 15 parts of story on the main branch, and imo that much info abt tartaros cant be condensed into 1 chapter unless if they make the story bits like WAY longer than what they normally do

GAMEPLAY

tl;dr as an endgame player, its too easy 💀

working on the spreadsheet ever since the games 1st month of release and now just recently testing multiple team comps, the "meta" is so monkos HSHFJDJ

this game is INSANELY dependent on you having more than 1 dps/tank light card. light is also just an unstoppable element and i wish the game was balanced a bit more to let other elements shine

enemies are now way too easy to defeat. ik i prob shouldnt be complaining abt this but pls im a pgr and neural cloud player at heart I NEED SOME CHALLENGE

ch3 and ch4 were prob the most tedious and awful chapters, but at least they actually made me think when it comes to battles. now i just place down chars and let it play in the bg while i go do smth else. ofc this may just be bc i have a team that im comfortable w using everywhere, but id like to see at least a bit more "challenge" outside of holy coin portal

also, for weekly achievements, lvling artifacts is not a great requirement

i only pull when theres a new s rank or when mammon is moved to standard, so its very, VERY rare compared to avg users. having the artifact req is essentially forcing me to pull during those gaps just so i could fulfill a weekly req which sucks. i also dont need to lvl anymore artifacts in general for my team comp. lvl 15 is the bare minimum i need to get through all content w ease, anything after that is just a small boost tbh

on the note of daily/weekly requirements, there needs to be more of them

i mean in a sense of theres still gonna be 9 daily achievements, but you get more options on HOW you get to the 9 daily achievement req. most gachas that ive played always have more options than necessary to fulfill the overall requirement to get all rewards, so having this strict number w strict reqs is rlly not that great tbh

RESOURCES

thoughts from last time still havent rlly changed. pies and candies especially are still rng dependent which sucks, and now there gonna revamp pancakes while also keeping the old pancakes ???? theres way too many currencies (w some even having very little to no use) atp which can and will get overwhelming for new players

GACHA

i hate solomon seals. you can tell that red keys were supposed to be the main gacha currency if you ever look at old packs, but smth happened along the way and now we have seals

pity is also way too high for what we're earning atm. based off of f2p earnings, every week we get roughly 1 pull of red keys, maybe 2 pulls of yellow keys (red and yellow keys are more dependent on the key boxes which again, dependent on rng), and 1 pull of solomon seals. this doesnt include the stuff earned outside of dailies/weeklies, and i think there should be more ways to earn said currency through dailies/weeklies and not be so dependent on either paying or pulling chars

speaking of pity, i wish we had pity for both of the standard banners

i also wish theyd separate char and artifacts into their own banners. that way, if someone has a char but needs their sig, they can just pull in the artifact-only banner and try to get said sig

tl;dr in general i wish everything wasnt so strict and rng dependent, also wish numbers made sense like why do we get at least 5 red keys a week when 1 pull is 3, JUST GIVE ME 6 KEYS ATP

so yeah thats all for now lmao. im pretty sure i have a lot more to say abt this game but my minds at a blank atm, so ig thatll be saved for the next progress post which will be around 1st anni

[pe0ple3ater]

OK I've had a full hour and a half driving to think about this so I have a whole etoiles/bad/cellbit au to present to you now 🖤 but before I begin: RAHHHHH Cellbit angst my absolute beloved thank you PeopleEater you're so right and based and roier would 100% beg cell to eat him omnomnom

Now without further ado:

This is gonna come in 2 parts and I'm gonna start with Etoiles because goddamn that man is WOOF. Etoiles in clerical clothing BARK he is so fine he would look so good in that sexy little priest outfit.

They probably didn't have anything properly his size because how many priests are absolutely jacked? (mmm thinking abt fit too) So it's a little small. So his shoulders and chest stretch the fabric and his thighs and ass in the slacks are enough to distract many parishioners from the word of the lord. Maybe a few of them even come to confession to talk about it. Whether he knows that they're talking about him who knows

He'd be really good at it too, I mean, that man is so sweet and honorable and bright, he's like the golden boy of the church, everyone's favorite priest for his sermons alone. Of course he gets up to some nasty debauchery behind the scenes. (Im still thinking about that one fooletoiles size kink ask and imagining Foolish meeting him in a back room between services to fuck between his thighs still in his pants and turn the confident, holy man into a begging mess to have Foolish inside him. Etoiles gets upset with him afterward because now he has to change)

Cellbit is the newer, priest. Etoiles knows he has some issues, he just doesn't know what and he doesn't make it his business. What matters is that Cellbit is doing well and working to become a good man. Etoiles thinks he already is, Cellbit just has a hard time believing him. Etoiles is teaching him exorcism

Then one day Cellbit comes to him shaking and on the verge of tears and asks him to come to the confessional. He looks really good like that, but Etoiles is good at ignoring such unholy thoughts...Until Cellbit tells him what happened and he gets to prescribe some...particular acts of penance

Etoiles stays in the confessional for a while after Cellbit leaves. It's late, there weren't even services today, but he's expecting someone. And sure enough, though he can barely see it through the small holes in the booth wall, the door to the next chamber opens. He can't see who or what entered, but the scent of blood and ash follows after it, something Etoiles didn't expect to find so alluring. "Greetings Father."

The voice is sweet, high and thick with amusement. Etoiles isn't in the mood for a demon's play, he's fucking upset. He skips the pleasantries. 

"You turned that poor man into a monster," he hissed. 

"He already was a monster." A pause. "You don't seem to be all that offended, are you father?"

The demon plays tricks, they get in your mind. "You dragged him from the faith!"

"I didn't make him do anything. He did it all on his own."  He could practically hear the smile on the creature's face and it made him sick.

"You know," the demon offered. "I could help you too."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can see the truth in you. You liked hearing what Cellbit did. You've tasted blood before and you want more."

Etoiles froze. The confession felt like it had been ripped from his very mouth, yet he hadn't said a word. 

No. "Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes." Etoiles took a deep breath in, letting the demon's temptation roll off his shoulders (even if the idea of watching cellbit tear into someone, covered in viscera was enough to start making him hard).

"You ought to burn for what you've done."

The demon tsked. "You're no fun. What are you gonna do? Exorcise me?" Then in a flash, before Etoiles could respond, the world warped. Suddenly he was no longer alone in his side of the booth, but with a pitch skinned, grinning demon perched on his lap. A very pretty demon, wearing nothing but a wine red dress, archstar criscrossed over its bare chest and skirt slit high up over its hips. "Or are you gonna make me repent like you did with your student?"

The demon's tail swishes behind it, and he looked for all the world like the cat who got the cream. Without thinking, Etoiles grabbed the tail and yanked. 

The demon lets out a high gasp that goes directly to his dick. It hadn't seemed to notice, but one clawed hand had shot out to grip his shoulder. Etoiles barely flinched. Instead, he pries it off with his other hand and dropping the tail, picks the demon up to slam it against the wall. Etoiles rolls his hips into the demon's making him whine. "You don't deserve to repent," he mutters, still grinding, nails digging into the demon's exposed flesh. "But I'll fuck you so hard you'll never go near my student again."

"Wh- Language!" For a moment he has to stop. You've got to be kidding.

He doesn't say anything. Instead, he rolls his eyes and drops Bad to a heap on the floor, grabbing one of his horns and shoving his cock in its mouth before they complain. 

Anyway--this definitely wont be the last time they see each other. Etoiles fucks bad's throat against the wall then makes Bad grind on his thigh until he cums, clawing at his back making the priest hiss with delight. Bad begs Etoiles to choke him and he takes his crucifix to burn into the hollow of Bad's throat like a brand as he does. Etoiles also definitely gets Bad a collar with a chain for him to hold short and tight when he fucks Bad ruthlessly over the altar

Bad definitely has a pussy and a dick in this and Etoiles makes good use of everything. I have a lot of demon Bad fucking thoughts. He/it/they Bad is my everything, also.

I have limited time so the cellbit part will come tomorrow but I might make this properly longer and into a fic we'll see

--Sin Anon

OKAY SO I'M INSANE ABOUT THIS BY THE WAY. SIN YOU'RE INSANE!!

"Etoiles in clerical clothing BARK he is so fine he would look so good in that sexy little priest outfit." I have a Thing for priests so I was SO EXCITED to read this. You did not disappoint AT ALL

"So his shoulders and chest stretch the fabric and his thighs and ass in the slacks are enough to distract many parishioners from the word of the lord. Maybe a few of them even come to confession to talk about it. Whether he knows that they're talking about him who knows" First of all, Etoiles in tight black slacks made me dizzy to think about. Poor guy is constantly dealing with leering, hungry eyes and he doesn't even know.

"..imagining Foolish meeting him in a back room between services to fuck between his thighs still in his pants" HEY HEYUM YEAH. Yes Foolish fucking his thighs, yes please. Making a pretty mess of his clothes and laughing at Etoiles frustrated little whines when he realizes he has to change. hah yeah.

"He looks really good like that" YEAH HE DOES, yes Cellbit with big wet eyes all sniffly and needy ngh..yeah I feel normal about it. I'm normal.

"(even if the idea of watching cellbit tear into someone, covered in viscera was enough to start making him hard)." yeah we're the same btw, Etoiles being a good man of faith and yet no one can deny how pretty Cellbit would look covered in blood!

"..grabbing one of his horns and shoving his cock in its mouth before they complain." YEAH GRAB HIM BY THE HORNS. PLEASE. Bbh having horns that people grab to fuck his mouth is everything to me. It's what he deserves!

"Bad begs Etoiles to choke him and he takes his crucifix to burn into the hollow of Bad's throat like a brand as he does." HOT, a brand from a man of the lord. Etoiles is doing gods work, purifying this demon from the inside out! He can't be blamed for it, it's the only way to get to the demon.

Sin anon..please make this into a full fic and drop it in my inbox I love it very very much. Hell, I'll even edit for you

[zzhhbloom]

demon (or world's best matchmaker?)

≡ᶻᶻ༄ synopsis: a demon from the underworld (read: an owl) has invaded your room. despite your best efforts (involving a lot of running around and deep breaths and textbook projectiles), you resolved to running out of your room after you exhausted your best methods for an exorcism. and unfortunately for you, you ran into hallway crush lee heeseung, who, fortunately for you, was more than willing to assist you in getting your room back.

≡ᶻᶻ༄ genre: heeseung x gn! reader || college!au || acquantainces to friends au || mostly crack and a sprinkle of fluff?

≡ᶻᶻ༄ warnings: cussing and really weird sentence structure that barely make sense im sorry lmao. also y/n is a total scatterbrain and a simp

≡ᶻᶻ༄ word count: ~1.9k

≡ᶻᶻ༄ a/n: i~~~ haven't posted in a while but here we are. a lot of my stories, i'm finding out, are just the most randoms scenarios u can ever imagine translated into a passable reader x [insert character here] fic.

≡ᶻᶻ༄ disclaimer: this does not in any way shape or form represent the real people whose names are mentioned, this is just a deranged kpoppie trying something new :)

“There’s...an owl in my room.” 

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Yes, that. It sounds exactly like that.”

You were never going to keep your window open ever again. 

It had been approximately two (2) months and three (3) days since you moved into the boarding house a block away from your school. Two (2!) months and three (3!!!) days of living on your own for the first time in your life. It was going well, as you had assured your dad that morning. What a naïve fool you were. 

Nothing was fine anymore. 

Not with the foot-tall demon spawn with bright yellow eyes fluttering around your room as if it owned the place and was looking to clock in after a long day. 

You ducked in between your bed and bedside table, praying that it would fly back out the way it came. But after several stretched-out minutes of attempted breathing exercises, you had had enough. You scanned the floor of your room, which was usually pristine but was presently a mess thanks to your frenzied panic. You took hold of your biology textbook, prepared to use it either as a shield or a projectile depending on what the situation called for. 

“You can do this,” you hissed at yourself. All you had to do was shoo it back out the window. Simple. “Just think of it as a...a ball. Yeah. A big, easy-to-hit ball. With wings.”

You took three steady breaths. You stood up. You caught sight of it in the corner of your eye, glaring at you with the full force of hell. That was all it took for you to abandon ship without a second thought. 

You ran out the door, a silent scream stuck in your throat. You slammed the door behind you on the way out, adrenaline coursing through your veins like ice. 

“Are you...okay?”

You looked up at the only other person in the hall at this unholy hour, considerably more sane-looking than you. You knew Lee Heeseung--he was one of the other dozen students that lived in the same boarding house. It was impossible not to notice whenever he walked in a room, much less impossible to avoid looking at him, because JEEPERS did he win the gene pool lottery. 

However, at this particular point in the evening, Lee Heeseung was not somebody who you wanted to see you in the middle of the hall wearing the worst pair of pajamas the world had ever seen. So what if you’d only spoken to him a few times? You still wanted to look normal.

“Are you alright?” he repeated. God, how bad did you look? 

“Yeah, yeah,” you swallowed, now having to battle through two (2!!!!) completely different shocking situations. Frankly, you felt like a lot like y/n in one of those cringe imagines people write online.

"There's just a..." you gesticulated vaguely in the direction of your closed door. Way to make a new impression. How the hell were you going to explain...THIS.

"Did somebody enter your room?" Heeseung asked apprehensively, lowering his voice to a whisper and pitching forward so you could hear. He made it sound like you were hiding some saucy secret behind those doors.

"Um..yes? In a sense, I guess you could say that--"

Heeseung looked around and reached for a Swifer mop that so conveniently leaned against the wall like a piece of modern art (and, living in a house with a few fine arts students, it might as well could have been). "So someone is in there? Do you know who?"

"Yeah. That's exactly what they sound like."

"I'm sorry?"

"I think it's better if I just..." you took hold of the door knob and held up your textbook-turned-shield. Heeseung took that as a warning signal and tightened his grip on the neon-green floor mop. You swung the door open as quietly as you could.

A swoop of wings and scrapping of talons burst out of nowhere, heading straight for at you.

BAM

You slammed the door shut. You looked up at Heeseung as if to say, "Do you see my problem?"

"Holy shit," he stared at the wood of the closed door before turning to you. "How long were you trapped in there for?"

You shivered. "Way too long."

Heeseung set his jaw, pulling his hood up over his head like it was a helmet that could do anything against a set of very sharp claws. He tightened his grip on the mop.

"You don't need to do this," you said apologetically. "I can ask someone else."

"I doubt any of the housekeepers are up right now," he extended the mop handle to its maximum length, locking it in place with a click. "So unless you'd like to spend the night in the common room and hope to God it's gone by morning..."

You shook your head vigorously, turning to face the door, your knuckles white around its knob. It was like a spider. Better get it out of the house before you lost sight of it. But even spiders were better than an imp from the underworld.

"On the count of three," he whispered to you.

"Slowly," you nodded. "One..."

"Two,"

At your unified whisper of "Three-!", you twisted the knob creaking the door ajar as quietly as you could. Heeseung peaked in over your head.

"It's on the blinds," he whispered. You could feel his breath ruffling your hair. Snap out of it, you hissed at yourself. Deciding to panic about this scandalously close proximity another day, you creaked the door further open.

The owl perched itself rather uncomfortably on the blinds above your open window. It had its head tucked underneath one wing but looked relatively unharmed. You noted, with immense relief, that your room was also in a better state than you imagined. You guessed it hadn't really done much while you were out except to fly around in a confused circle, and you had been the one at fault for recreating a crime scene.

"It's right there," you hissed at it, gesturing at the wide-open window half a foot away from its talons.

The owl untucked its head and gave you a steely glare. You let out something that sounded a little like "meep!" and held up the textbook up to your face. Psh. Like you could scare it away with diagrams of cell membranes and respiration cycles.

"Let me try," Heeseung stepped in front of you, taking the door knob from your hand and pushing it open micrometer by micrometer. You stared at the owl from under his arm. It stared back at you. Everything about it was unflinching.

Heeseung took a slow, cautious step into the thresholds of your room, holding the mop at the ready. (Some part of your schoolgirl mind was screaming at the fact that the infamous hallway crush Lee Heeseung was in your bedroom!!)

You fell into silent step behind him, clutching your own weak excuse for a weapon and closing the door behind you. The last thing any one of you wanted was to have the owl fly out into the hall and wake up everyone in the house (and risk getting kicked out now that you've finally made contact with Lee Heeseung. Of course that's not what was really important).

The two of you crossed the room, holding your breath and freezing up your joints whenever the owl so much as blinked. At one point, it stretched its neck to an unnatural length and lifted its wings. Heeseung took an instinctive step back, nearly knocking you over. And like in all those cliché y/n moments, you would have promptly fell over on your behind if you hadn't caught hold of the back of his hoodie. Thankfully, Heeseung wasn't as much of a klutz as you were, and he braced himself to keep you both from falling over, reaching an arm back to steady you if you needed it.

The owl was so close now. Heeseung extended the Swifer's mop end. Slowly, carefully, he lifted it until it was inches away from the owl's talons. It flapped its wings and your heart almost stopped permanently.

"Hey, buddy," Heeseung murmured soothingly in a voice that would have put babies to sleep in seconds. He poked the mop carefully against the bird's scaly talons of death. "Need a ride outta here?"

Somehow, the owl decided it quite liked this human with a weird stick it was shoving in its face. It shifted its weight onto the stick, offering one, slow, inquisitive blink.

You pinched the corner of Heeseung's hoodie, ready to pull him backwards to safety or offer him as a sacrificial offering depending again on what the situation called for. You needed to be ready for anything.

Soon, he began to lift the Feathered Thing with Eyes of the Highest Hatred away from the blinds. Slowly, carefully, steadily, hushing soothing nothings all the way. You knew it was meant for the bird but damn, was it working a little too well.

The mop was now low enough that all the owl had to do was turn around and fly out. But it kept its gaze fixedly on the two of you, as if two humans had gone and flown into its bedroom.

"Don't you dare fly at me," you told those all-seeing eyes.

"You heard them," Heeseung warned, voice slow and deep as he slowly inched the mop--and its passenger--out the gaping window. "Don't. You dare. Fly."

The mop was now hanging a foot outside the window. You wondered how the scene would have looked like to a passerby below--a bright green Swifer mop poking out of an open third-story window at a ridiculous hour with--heaven help them--an OWL perched ever so precariously atop it.

The owl stared at the two of you, as if to say "What now?". The two of you stared right back at it, unflinching.

A stale eternity passed. Dust particles could have been heard resting lightly on the tabletop.

Then, without warning, Heeseung shook the mop vigorously, sparing no profanity in exclaiming, "Good fucking night to you, sir!"

The owl flew majestically off into the night as if it hadn't just been thrown off a mop head. You ran to the window and slammed it shut. You didn't realize you were laughing until you tried to say something and choked on the words. Heeseung was laughing, too, pulling his hood back and looking up at the Swifer in equal parts disbelief and reverence.

"I ca't believe that worked," you managed in between bouts of laughter.

"This is going on my list of greatest life achievements for sure."

"You could start a business."

"Of throwing owls out of windows?"

"Oh, for sure," you pointed at the Swifer. "You could even get sponsored by them."

Heeseung laughed, and your face warmed. "Would you testify to the quality of my services as my first client?"

"Sure," you piped. "Cute, extremely efficient, but nearly threw the mop out the window. I demand 5% of the profit, by the way."

Heeseung was still hung up on the second word you said, a smirk spreading across his face and eyes sparkling. "I should get going. It's late. You probably want to fix up." He waved at the crumpled sheets and scattered books littered across your little room.

He picked his way through the obstacle of your belongings, turning around at the door to say. "I can't guarantee you 5% of my smashing new start-up," Heeseung went along with the bit. "But how about we hang out some time instead? Preferably without any feathered wildlife present, if that's...cool with you?"

You were laughing a lot today. "Yeah, yeah," you leaned against the door frame. Maybe that owl wasn't such a demon after all. "I'd really like that."

---------------------------

bonus: From the trees, the owl watched the exchange between the two humans happen with a smug expression. Or at least, as smug as an expression an owl can muster.

Mission accomplished. With a triumphant "whooo!" it pushed off from the branch and flew off into the night.

[det-loki]

Hi Star ✨💛

I'm back on duty and I'm here to tickle the collective fandom brain.

With Presumed Innocent coming out soon (aaaah), I would just like to hear all your thoughts on Rusty. 

Is he guilty? If so, would we still do unholy things with him (duh, obviously)? Or is he just an innocent little guy and only guilty of cheating and murdering pussy? He obviously likes being choked and I'm not complaining. What else might he like? Is he a pancakes or bacon/scrambled egg breakfast kinda guy? He does need his protein tho, for several reasons... 👀

Please let me/us know all your thoughts and hopes for the new show and the character we're blessed with this summer, thank youuuu.

Paying my Rusty tax for inspiration ✨

hi Daphne! You have no idea how happy I am to see you!! 🫶🏻💓

First, I am so unbelievably excited about presumed innocent!! It looks soooo good and I love crime/mystery/angst (im a broken record)

Roadhouse was fun but Presumed Innocent is much more my cup of tea. This looks to be a...spicy...tea 👀

I so wish I would've recorded my reaction to the trailer bc oh my goodness!!! I had flash backs to southpaw and rachel doing the thumb thing, and then jake explaining that scene on howard stern. (I can't find the clip but I'm 90% sure it was howard stern. either that or that one radio interview from the southpaw press run. anyway!)

Rusty. Now, I think he's innocent bc my silly little brain is like yeah, obvious choice is to make me think he's guilty so therfore I think he's innocent. And it's Jake's face. He's innocent. Now watch me be wrong.

Rusty appears to be a family man. Family man, full breakfast. I'll serve him the full continental breakfast if he wants, baby whaever you want. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, fruit, yogurt, muffins, the whole thing. I've got time for you!

Spicy scenes! Spicy! Hot! Oh my god! Have we been in a spicy/intimate scene drought with Jake characters? I think yes. Obviously I love the depth, mystery and drama so much more, but we deserve the spice as a treat. Those scenes seem so...intense? I'm feeling very much a power imbalance but it's always changing between rusty and carolyn. that's just what I've taken away simply from the intimate scenes, I'm sure it will very much evolve and change once we know more.

I'm just so so excited for this show. Again, I love the dark vibes, I love murder mystery and it's been a while since I've watched a show/film that's scratched that itch. I love jake in particular in these kinds of roles. Ahhh!!!!

(Thank you for the rusty tax, so appreciated 👀🫠)

[metamelonisle]

im not gonna lie i love brook onepiece so fucking bad. he's a musician. he's Normal. he's 45 degrees. hes a skeleton. he spent 50 years alone on a ship full of his dead friends and got over it as soon as he met other people. he still has his afro. he occasionally asks for the most batshit crass thing you can imagine completely unprompted and then gets his skull smacked around and is completely normal for the rest of the arc. he would vibe endlessly with sans undertale. his best friend is a giant whale he hasn't seen in 50 years. he can play the violin. they nicknamed him Soul King. he has a cane sword. in a world of pirates and laughter he is notably the ONLY character in the entire series to laugh like "yohohoho!" not even gold roger the literal King of the Pirates and romantic ideal of every pirate across media, laughs like that. he laughs like that because it’s a reminder of his past friends and favorite song. he dresses like a victorian rock star. he got his own shadow stolen by an old goth guy to reanimate a samurai's corpse and it worked. people thought he was the literal actual devil for 2 years once. luffy literally asked him to join his crew and his response was "ok" and that's why he's a straw hat. he freezes people by using the unholy power of his soul's rejection of the afterlife to create freezing winds. he can't swim but he can run on water. his favorite song makes me break into sobbing tears every time i hear it played. he won't stop making jokes about being a skeleton even if it kills him, since he's already dead. he's not even considered dead btw just a living skeleton. he's 90 years old. he's even bisexual

[forlorn-crows]

A possessive Mountain going into rut and deciding to stake his claim on Rain by bending him over the common room sofa and stuff him full of his knot him in front of the others?

i took some liberties with this one since heat/rut/knotting is absolutely not my forte. i read it to some extent, but only under the context that a majority of people headcanon that that's something ghouls just...do, ya know? not something im actively seeking out

BUT i still had an idea for this one so this is what i've got for you, dear anon:

Mountain bends over the purple orchid, dutifully clipping its wilting buds. The humid smell of soil and foliage blankets over him, soothing his aching thoughts.

This season’s heat has him mentally overstimulated more than anything, often retreating to the greenhouse to be alone. He prefers the calming atmosphere to the darkness of his room—he’s less likely to tear it up in the throws of arousal and frustration, anyway.

He's got his hands deep in a pot of soil when he smells it. Petrichor and warm sea salt. It wafts through the air and hits him straight in the nose, making him freeze. Suddenly, his mind is quiet, replaced only with thoughts of Rain. Want. Need. Where?

“Mountain?” Rain calls from the doorway.

The earth ghoul swallows dryly. “Yes, Rain?” He hears footsteps approach and stop a few feet away from him. Reluctantly, Mountain looks up at him from his hunched position.

That was a mistake. Rain looks completely unholy: hair mussed, lips shiny with saliva—someone else’s?—little crimson marks peeking out from the collar of his sweatshirt. Mountain’s on him in an instant, launching himself off his stool and looming over his lithe form, nosing at the spot behind his ear. His smell is icier here, but it’s masked under notes of cinnamon, citrus, and mint.

Mountain has to stop himself from growling, settling for some other low, disgruntled noise instead. “Did you come here to tease me?”

“N-no,” he stutters. Mountain’s pheromones wash over him, heavy and earthy. “Oh,” he breathes, leaning into the earth ghoul slightly.

“Then why are you here, raincloud?” Mountain runs a hand along his jaw, slowly, possessively.

Rain tilts his head towards the touch and closes his eyes. “The boys, we were—” His breath hitches as Mountain’s fingers trail further along his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs under his hand. “Playing, messing around. We missed you. Wanted you to join us.” He bites his lip.

Mountain looks at him, calculating. “Playing, hm?” His voice lowers half an octave, getting husky with need. “You want me to play with you, tadpole? Brave of you to come in here alone.”

“You can s-show me off.” Rain cracks his eyes open, revealing blown pupils. He bares his neck to the earth ghoul. “Mark me—ah—make them jealous.” He realizes he’s babbling, a side-effect of Mountain’s heat radiating over him, but he can’t help it.

“Fuck,” Mountain finally growls. He mouths at the spot where Rain wants him and pulls the water ghoul flush against him. 

“Oh, Mounty,” Rain whines. He stuffs his hands under Mountain’s t-shirt, running his palms over the plane of his stomach. Mountain almost does bite him at the skin-to-skin contact. His arousal is quickly becoming all-consuming, but he pulls away before he really loses it.

“You’re gonna be mine, raincloud,” the earth ghoul promises.

It doesn’t take them long to make it back to the others. Aether and Swiss have Dew a blubbering mess underneath them on the couch, kissing, sucking, and petting everywhere but where he wants it. Mountain pushes Rain to kneel in front of them, slotting in behind him. He presses his hardening length against Rain’s ass, grinding against him.

“You didn’t waste any time,” Swiss smirks.

“Could’ve been you,” he drawls, palming at Rain’s own erection, earning a moan from the water ghoul. “But you sent the princess to get me, so now he’s getting my fucking knot.” Mountain’s filthy when he’s in heat, his usual loving and loyal demeanor replaced with ravishing possessiveness.

Dew whines at that, immediately jealous.

“Told you,” Rains mumbles, dropping his head against Mountain’s collarbone. The earth ghoul drinks him in, laving his tongue over the muscles in Rain’s neck. He stares Dew down, flashing his fangs against the water ghoul’s pulse point.

“If you want it so bad, fire lily, let’s hear you beg for it.”

[myfaveisfuckable]

Rants!

John x the cop from chapter 3: Oh my god.. im probably the only person ever that thought that but the cop calling john "preacher" had... An effect on me!! These two are definitely fucking.. I like to call the cop Jacob for simplicity sake. I invited this mfs a backstory because YES to me they are friends to strangers to lovers.. so Jacob and John meet in a all boy school when they where younger. Jacob was pretty and popular and John inspired to be like him (he was kinda seen as a little loser) so he was moved to talk to him. While jacob as many people around him , he doesn't have a friend so he gladly accepted! They both very quickly got close and both developed feeling for each other. A cute thing John did was to come at Jacob's work (a fastfood of some kind) and started to remember when he got his breaks so they can spend it together. John doesn't even like the food there l. It all changed when , during a party, they both decided to drink. Whole being drunk , they slow danced and kissed. Jacob absolutely didn't mind this , it was heaven to him! But John as a very religious background and got in trouble. He was moved to a Christian school and forbidden to talk to him ever again. They both kinda moved on, until they meet again in chapter 3 as adults!! Oo!!!

Liu Qingge/Zhuzhi Lang: Both these dudes are from Scum Villain's Self Saving System, which is a chinese novel by the author MXTX (I cannot remember the full name im sorry).

Liu Qingge is known as a 'war god' and he's, to put it lightly, Fightsexual. Boy's got IQ specifically geared towards getting into and out of fights. He was one of the strongest characters in the story (like, 3rd strongest if you dont count the protagonist's dad who was uhm 'retired' by the start of the story lol). He's also Incredibly Princely Pretty.

Zhuzhi Lang is a half-snake demon with self-esteem issues and can turn into a large snake, and can also probably give Liu Qingge a good fight! ngl I just love Liu Qingge and I ship over half a dozen people with him. Zhuzhi Lang is a top contender though because he's a sweet guy, can totally get into vore, can give Liu Qingge a challenge, and also probably has 2 dicks-