#sav's writing

[sweetums0kitty]

Erik Campbell X Death!Reader Ideas

Author's Note: Please be nice to me, I haven't written anything since 2022. I'm rusty and this was just thrown together. Erik is my pookie bear tho and I love him! <3

He’s the wife because provider verses providee in the relationship. It’s at least how Death sees it. Not understanding human relationship terms. Death sees life as something fickle and short. The rules are the rules and they take what they were promised eventually.

Not a malicious force really, thinks it’s fun to give humans extravagant deaths! Why go out with something dull and common when you could be crushed by a garbage truck!

Eros and Psyche analogy where Erik gets to go from the human realm to living in death’s cool goth palace. Gonna give him angst where he’s okay with trading his life for his siblings.

Of course he can still visit his family! He just can’t stay with them. That’s why he’s the Persephone of this story. The tattoo shop is burned down so he doesn’t have job.. Julia, Bobby, Stephane and Charlie have lives and futures that they can live. Idk emo boy depression and issues I’m projecting onto Erik.

Death who’s really into how alive people are, obsessed with his pulse and feeling it, idk pain kink?!? They’re switches cause that’s hotter but also Death will peg him cause I need to do that to Erik.

When Erik is in the land of the living he’s paler, maybe he doesn’t have a pulse, it’s like being the living dead. Idk why I find that cool just he’s the living dead. Maybe it works like he can’t die no matter what happens cause he’s Death’s consort.

Imagine: You’re death and you’re reviewing souls who have to die on a big long list and you’ve got Erik on your lap while doing so. You’ll stroke his hair and kiss his neck. Just cuddle the human you love.

Sorry if this is unrefined, I’m a little loopy right now but I love him.

[grasslandgirl]

if dreams can't come true, then why not pretend?

happy otgw anniversary everyone <333 this is a long-standing beloved tradition of mine, to rewatch over the garden wall (and usually other YouTube videos/movies/shows as well) and do a little painting for one of my favorite shows as I watch in honor of the season !! I like how this one came out (even though I still like my quicky sketch I did first a little better) and I can't wait to do it again next year !! xoxox

[my-world-my-stories]

Yautja Doodles of another one of my lads, Sav'Kat, that i feel i ignored way too much for a hot minute, along with precious bean Cletus. It's not easy being essentially the middle child of a badass Yautja trio XD

(1) Just the two besties exploring the jungle and Sav trying to keep up with his twink BFF. That nerd can be fast on his legs when he wants to. Especially in the name of scientific exploration!

(2) Petting his hunting hounds because they're very good boys

(3,4,5,6) Don't worry, his face is just constanly stuck in constant state of 'Resting Bitch' and 'Done with this shit' combined. He's so tired, someone give him bread and a nap to cuddle wih his hounds.

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

There is something so captivating and sorrowful about the Dynasty lore book that I honestly think makes it one of my most cherished lore books.

My Witness project is being discussed in a few days (my stomach just dissolved itself at that thought what) and for this project, I’ve collected thoughts on how species that use the darkness to form their spiritual beliefs (Psions and Qugu specifically) have similarities to spiritual beliefs often found in the Caribbean and in South America (with discussions over matters like spiritual substance use with ayahuasca (Qugu), ancestral veneration and communication from Western African practices (Both), and the suppression of panentheistic/pantheistic and harmonizing thought (Psion)). The Qugu have been such a comfort to me for a while now and whenever I think about their fate in Dynasty, I am filled with such a sense of anguish and mourning.

The unfolding of the events in the lore book is just plain devastating to read; seeing Te’Qal’s absolute best efforts to save their people not be enough to stop the Hive and the Witness speaks on something I think is underdeveloped in Destiny.

We hear so much about the annihilation of countless star systems at the hands of the Hive and Black Fleets, but often, due to the information coming from beings who lead those fleets or people reflecting back on their escape, the sheer scope and emotional impact of these losses is not captured in a way that is truthful to the matter.

Dynasty’s narrative following Te’Qal and the Qugu people changes this trend and it makes the extermination of the Qugu people all that more impactful.

It starts off with familiarizing readers with how the Qugu came to be; how they developed their spiritual beliefs and their way of life. It’s delicious world building (which I always love from Destiny writers), but it also establishes just how much will be ripped away and snuffed out by Savathûn, Oryx, and the Witness.

Te’Qal is a competent, determined Warden who vows to do nothing but their best to defend Seht, both before and after they understood their vision of the fall of the Qugu. They were well trained and the various descriptions of their armada’s defenses provides evidence of them being a masterful tactician. In fact, Dynasty even admits that on the basis of skill, the Qugu were beyond the Hive, who were winning off of their brute force and numbers (“When evenly matched in numbers, Te'Qal's superior tactics pick the Hive forces apart” - Dynasty)

Te’Qal is relentless in their desire to preserve their people, their beliefs, their home. They sacrifice their well-being to offer hope to the Qugu people during a hopeless time, pushing their body and mind beyond its limits to keep themselves alert enough to lead ark ships and give speeches to bolster morale.

Te’Qal did everything they could and it wasn’t enough and I don’t think there is anything more devastating than that.

To have hope against intentionally-made hopeless, only for it to not be enough to save your people?

What a defeating, soul crushing, utter helpless feeling.

Destiny tells us that hope is worth having and it will lead to you defeating impossible odds, but as shown in Dynasty, hope is also a tireless thing that sometimes doesn’t pay off fast enough to save everyone.

Te’Qal’s determination to not just give into the Black Fleet and the Hive, their determination to let their hope go out loudly instead of fizzling into nothing, lead to them destroying a pyramid with their final stand and thwarting countless hive vessels that were in their star system.

Their final stand left a mark on the universe and set the Hive and Witness back, even if it was momentarily, but that still wasn’t enough to save their people.

However, I think the cruelest part of it all is how the Hive and the Witness refer to the extinguishing of the Qugu; how everything Te’Qal held dear and fought til the very end for was meaningless to them.

Oryx, in the Book of Sorrows, speaks of the Qugu in such a disgusting way, completely minimizing them as sentient beings and acting as if ridding them from existence was a noble act of “liberation”.

“Savathûn and her broods have liberated the Qugu from jaw-beasts, and indeed from existence…I know more joy and more anguish than the entire Qugu race could ever experience… Joy that we have put down these blights. Scoured them away and left the universe clean, ready to move towards its final shape. “ - Oryx, Verse 3:3, “Fire Without Fuel”, Book of Sorrows

Part of his view of the Qugu as lesser is their veneration of Jaw Beasts and their ability to receive visions, saying “For millions of years of evolution the Qugu have been infected by a virus so insidious that it wrote itself into their genome…They venerate these beasts and treat them as gods”.

He says the relationship between the Qugu and Jaw Beast is “insidious” and there is a tone of condescension when talking of their spirituality. Oryx sees Qugu spirituality as a blight and burden, but if it truly was so, then the Qugu wouldn’t have spent so much effort in preserving the land around their “mountain” for their ark ships. To the Qugu, there could be no new home for them unless their beliefs came with them.

The ancestral visions Te’Qal receives are so heart wrenching and beautiful, and when they are at their lowest, when all efforts seemed futile, they wanted nothing more than to drink the nectar and receive those visions. They speak to their Te’Dura for support and it is by remembering all who came before them as well as their capabilities that Te’Qal finds the strength to prove that the Qugu not only existed, but existed proudly ("Not because you forget, but because you have been hopeless before." Te'Dura rears into a taller posture. "There is victory in that darkness. A kind. Find it." - Dynasty)

The Qugu and their belief in the power of the darkness were intertwined, making it a key part of their identity. It gave them meaning, it guided them to become more than what they could be alone, and yet, in the eyes of the Witness, it didn’t mean anything at all compared to its belief in the Final Shape.

“Far distant, there is a people lacing ribbons of Darkness through their thoughts to bring them closer together, that no one might be divided from the purpose they have dreamed for themselves. But they have not come to Darkness through the Gardener's neglect — it is simply their natural course. In time, we shall enfold them into our shape, but they need not urgent salvation…Some resist the rampaging Hive, crying out into the Darkness. It is to us they reach, in the end. We hear their pleas and grant them succor, salvation, enshrining them in our monument. Toward our inevitable final shape.” - The Witness, “Cacophony, Euphony.”, Destiny Grimoire Anthology, Vol. VII: Penumbra

“The purpose they have dreamed for themselves” was not a respectable purpose to the Witness for it wasn’t the purpose it wanted to enact upon them. The Qugu are not specifically mentioned, but they fit the description of the darkness species mentioned.

The Witness saw the “waywardness” of the Qugu as a problem to be solved, something that had to be corrected to give them a proper place in their vision for the universe, and though the Qugu never asked for anything more than safety and the ability to keep their connection to their ancestral lines, the Witness forcefully responded by sweeping up every memory of the Qugu people into an echo, extinguishing them and turning a cacophony of expression into a euphony it found fitting.

It was never once mentioned that the Qugu ever knew about the light or Traveler, yet they were still treated to ruinous assault for the crime of crafting their own meaning out of a power granted by the Witness’ pyramid; a pyramid they had revered as a mountain and watched turn on them in their moment of need.

Even when Te’Qal and all the ancestors they drew power from showed that they wouldn’t let their sacred mountain become a cursed pyramid without a fight and that they were willing to do the ultimate sacrifice to refute the corruption of what they exalted, the Witness still forced them to accept it’s “salvation”.

That is cruelty beyond imagination and no justification the Witness could ever offer or belief in its righteousness would erase what it did to the Qugu.

The Art of Symbiosis entry from the Inspiral lore book is one I have read again and again and again. To be completely vulnerable, it is an entry that has elevated me from the depths of gripping grief time and time again. I actually have the entry printed so that I may reach over and read it when I need my resolve strengthened.

It’s a bit strange to feel this way towards an entry, I know, but The Art of Symbiosis and it’s Qugu narrator offered assurance to me that the beliefs I held that gave me meaning, that allowed me to move on from scorning a universe I didn’t truly believe in, weren’t as “meaningless” and “distant from the truth” as others made me think.

The way the Qugu speak of those who have passed is just so consoling and it reminds me that the person I’m doing this project for mattered as much in death as they did in life. They may be no more, but I still am, and there is meaning in wanting to create an impact on a finite world that will show that people like them existed, and that existence mattered. There is meaning in being perfectly fine with a finite existence because you don’t need your lost loved ones to be eternal and “perfected��� to matter to you.

I don’t want people to think of people like them the way Oryx and the Witness thought of the Qugu. I’ll do everything I can to ensure it isn’t that way and I thank the writers for giving the Qugu a voice beyond the one in the Book of Sorrows years ago to remind me of why I feel so strongly towards this matter.

I’m doing this project for them like Te’Qal did it for Seht, and though my efforts and hope may not win now, I hold onto the idea that this tirelessness will help those who come after me win in ways my lost loved one couldn’t have imagined.

[that-guy-sleepy-miles]

Mid-Blueprint Nap (ft. The Demon Bull King)

I've been thinking about Red King a lot, so here's a ficlet with an accompanying art piece! (Or an art piece with an accompanying ficlet...?) It includes a lot of information about the Red King AU, so I hope you guys enjoy it and are interested in the AU!

Heads up: Red King has a funky little gender! She uses she/her pronouns and male nouns, so if you have problems recognizing which pronouns go to which characters in prose, this might be a little difficult for you to read!

2.5k words

‎

Despite her quick disappearance, Red Son—or, as the Demon Bull King learned, she was now a "Red King"—didn't abandon her family. She'd never been one to do so; his Princess had assured him that such a thing hadn't happened in his absence. (His wife hadn't explained why their boy left in the first place, which gave him the idea that it was a tender subject. He would ask her in detail as soon as they had exacted their revenge and taken this city.)

When he desired more power, the Princess called for the bull clones to get their son and she was instantly at the Flaming Foundry with a solution. She'd brought out the blueprints for the Furnace with an uncharacteristic indifference, and explained how she'd imagined that this would be what he wanted, so years ago she’d come up with an idea years ago.

She’d said something about being unable to make a prototype because she didn’t have his measurements (which made no sense, why hadn’t she just asked her mother…), but she’d updated the ideas whenever she could. (Her specific wording was ‘woke up’, but the Bull King had no clue what she meant by that. She couldn’t have worked on it every morning if she was this disinterested…)

After that, Red King (how odd it was, to think of his son as being a king now; how much he had missed) had built the Furnace, oversaw the bull clones as they fit the armor onto the Bull King, and then explained how the armor worked. Halfway through her explanation, her eyes began to fall closed and her words slowed.

He’d watched her nod off in confusion until his wife struck her fan against the floor and startled Red King awake. They’d shared a look—tense on the Princess’s side and tired on Red King’s—before his wife sighed and his son continued, going on about finding rare items and giving pointers on where to find them in the city. She’d left after that, leaving him to find a shoe store on his own.

Something was happening in his family, and the Bull King was completely on the outside of it.

But, nonetheless, they continued like that: Red King would arrive when needed, providing them with what they asked for, and then depart quickly—it was like she was leaving as soon as possible. Which, frankly, was unacceptable. It was disrespectful and rude, especially to her family! However, it didn’t seem new; his wife, who was normally intolerant to any form or implication of disrespect, let their son blatantly disrespect them without a word.

In fact, she seemed almost grateful for it. She would relax her tense shoulders the second their boy had gone, let out a snide comment about how she was surprised that Red King was still awake or how it must be the little boy’s naptime under her breath, and then return to managing the dig site.

The dig site.

The dig site was the reason that Red King was called here by his mother today.

The Bull King wouldn’t lie, he was getting rather impatient with the slow speed of the excavation of the power source. He could feel the power in his fingertips, but he just couldn’t access it. He was so close, but he had to keep waiting! He had spent hundreds of years waiting, and he wouldn’t STAND for it any longer!

His wife, understanding his plight, called their son. There was no reason to even think about calling anyone else. They needed a machine, and they needed it to be precise so as to not disrupt whatever power was down there; who else would have that done at the same speed their son would?

(She’d arrived only 30 minutes after they sent a bull clone to fetch her. She was never one to be late, but the Bull King was beginning to wonder if she showed up so quickly so that she could leave sooner.)

The Bull King had been on his new throne, chin in hand, brooding, when she arrived. Red King was still in that robe of hers, he’d never seen her in anything different. Not that that was particularly unusual—it was quite like his son to have an article of clothing she liked to wear often—but the more she wore it, the more he began to realize it didn’t look much like a royal robe, and potentially something more for lounging in at home.

She rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm before asking, “You need me, Father?”

He grunted in affirmation, grinding his teeth for a second before he started, “I did not spend an eternity trapped under a mountain to be forced to wait longer! This is taking far too long, and I need you to speed it up.”

She tilted her head minutely to the side as she mulled over his words, and then yawned. Agitation set into his bones at her disrespect, but she quickly amended, “Apologies for that, Father... Consider it done, I’ll have an excavator built by the end of tomorrow.”

She turned to leave, but the growl he let out stopped her. She turned back to him with a confused and cautious glance, “Father?”

“I won’t wait any longer, especially not for you to return. I want work to start the second you’re finished with the drafting. You’re to stay here.”

She frowned deeply, “Father–”

“You are to stay here,” he shut down her protests immediately, slamming out the words “stay here” with utter finality.

She sighed and put her hand to her forehead as if nursing a headache, “As you wish, Father.”

What a rude little boy his son had become. As if he was wasting her time.

‎

Leaned against the wall nearest to her workspace, arms crossed, the Demon Bull King’s anger at his son quickly turned to concern. It was the concern that had been bubbling this entire time, amplified as he watched her work—er, try to work. He was beginning to think she truly did have a headache.

She was on her third blueprint page, frustration clear on her face; she’d crumpled the first one and ripped the other. He watched with unease as she kept beginning to nod off, snapped herself awake, and then spent maybe ten minutes working before she was back to barely conscious. Her pencil skidded across the paper far too often as her hand went lax over and over again, leaving white marks in its wake.

She snapped herself out of another sleeping spell and sighed miserably, a hand on her forehead the only thing keeping her from faceplanting onto the workbench. It was time for him to step in.

The Demon Bull King stopped leaning and walked over to her desk, arms still crossed, “What is the holdup?”

She scrubbed her face before looking up at him, “I can’t focus, Father.”

“Clearly,” he bit out. She scowled at him in return. He sneered back at her, showing sharp teeth.

She didn’t let up her own stare at his visual displeasure, so he lowered and turned his head. A threat display only meant to intimidate her and remind her to be respectful of her father, he’d never even think of hurting her. (He'd kill anyone who injured his precious boy, including himself.)

It seemed they’d entered their first standoff, like the ones she and her mother had, but the Demon Bull King couldn’t explain for the life of him why it was happening.

She sighed heavily—long-suffering and, again, miserable—before she turned back to the blueprints. After a moment's consideration, she began to speak: “I am making an excavator. It’s construction equipment for digging, a human-made design. I’m designing a boom, arm, bucket, and a cab on a rotating superstructure—the undercarriage isn’t necessary. I don’t imagine, we won’t be moving it from the Flaming Foundry, and we’re digging in one spot.”

The Bull King raised an eyebrow. Well, at least she wasn’t half-asleep anymore, and he wasn’t stuck waiting. He prompted her to continue with a nod of the head and a grunt.

She put her cheek in her hand and gestured around the blueprint as she explained, her voice still mostly disinterested, “I can build an excavator easily, but we both know you don’t just want an excavator, Father.” She chuckled minutely at that before continuing, “You want something that looks nice and sleek, but also looks powerful. But… how do I make an excavator look powerful? The arm, boom, and bucket will all be fine, you’ll like those as is, but I need to do something for the cab…”

Her tone concerned him so much in a way he couldn’t explain to anyone who didn’t know her. She was always so talkative and excited when she was a little boy, young and excited about her work—nearing manic. She would've killed to have her father's attention like this when she was getting into engineering…

Red King rubbed her eyes as she continued to prattle on about excavator cabs, noting how she normally wouldn’t struggle with the cab design but nothing was coming to mind. The Demon Bull King was not in the habit of lying, as said before, so he would admit she was entirely correct about him wanting something designed personally, and he did appreciate her care. It was a form of affection, he could tell when she said it, to pay attention to his aesthetics and how he liked his machinery.

Her chin was in her hands now, both elbows on the table. Her voice was slower as she said, “I might look back at old designs I made for you, but all of those blueprints are at mine…”

Now her cheeks were in her hands as her elbows slid forward slowly. Her eyes were slipping closed, and her words became just a bit slurred, “Mmm, i’sh not like I’m incapabul of designing somethin’”—she yawned—“I’m jush… so… tir’d…”

Down, down, down–

He slid a hand under her quickly before her head crashed into the workbench. She used what must be the last dregs of consciousness to bring her arms up to cross on his palm and cushion her face, and then she was dead-to-the-world asleep, snoring immediately. It might be a trick of his mind, but the Bull King was certain she was even slightly heavier in his palm.

Bewilderment overtook him as he stared at his son. They’d just been having a conversation—well, she’d been talking and he’d been listening—and now it was as if she’d been asleep for hours. He was stuck, half-leaned over and waiting for his son to wake, which he was certain wouldn’t happen for a while.

He sat down begrudgingly, ready to stay here until she woke up so that she wouldn’t bash her head against the metal workbench; this wasn’t necessary, but that would be an unfortunate way for his boy to be woken up, and Red King clearly needed this sleep. He huffed in irritation as his eyes traveled the room for a second, but they soon returned to his offspring.

The Demon Bull King realized quickly that he’d been unintentionally denying himself of one of his greatest joys: admiring his child. It was perhaps foolish, but no matter what anything thought of his boy, he still loved her. For years, he’d recanted the details of her birth to anyone who would listen for years and had memorized her zodiac (inner animal, true animal, and secret animal, of course), earthly branch, yin-yang, and element. He couldn’t shut up about his son.

And there was so much to admire, so much that was new. He paid close attention to her now as he cradled her in his palm: her even breaths against his skin, her thigh-length hair—warmed by her magical power as it spread across and fell between his fingers (and it was so warm, his boy was so strong), her cute horns that she'd grown scraping against his palm as she turned her head.

His son is was still little, like all creatures are compared to him, and yet she had gotten so big. So grown. 

And she was asleep on his hand like a baby.

‎

The Demon Bull King (again, not a liar) sat there for perhaps hours—he had no idea how long it was, there wasn’t a clock—admiring his boy and listening to her snore. She hadn’t moved an inch other than her body rising and falling with her breathing, completely in deep sleep and giving no indication that she’d wake soon.

“My love?”

The Bull King looked behind him to see his wife, “Yes?”

“It’s been four hours, beloved. Why are you still over here?” Concern colored her voice as she came to his side, a frown on her face. (She was so pretty, even when she was frowning. Or, perhaps, especially when she was frowning. She had such an elegant frown.)

He gestured to the sleeping boy on his palm, “She fell asleep.”

Her concern turned into annoyance quickly as she cast a callous look at their offspring, “Ah. Of course she did.”

“Her inability to stay awake is… concerning.”

The Princess scoffed, “Yes, it seems she’s given herself narcolepsy. What could possibly be so upsetting that she’d rather sleep for the rest of her life instead of having a conversation with her own mother, I couldn’t tell you. Did you even know we’re in her territory?”

The Bull King’s eyebrows raised, “Are we now?”

“Yes! The entire city is hers, but she refuses to take control of it!” His wife was exasperated, rolling her eyes as she continued, “She’ll barely even help her family take over her city! She’d rather sleep all day in that dreaded cave of hers—oh, well that’s not true.”—she checked her nails—“It’s a lovely cave, my love. You’d love the architecture, she put a lot of thought into it. It’s the last thing she’s put thought into for the last 500 years.”

The Bull King hummed deeply, his unease mounting.

“I can’t believe her sometimes! She doesn’t even send letters anymore! She doesn’t send letters, she comes without gifts, leaves before tea– How disrespectful can one get?” It seemed that he was not the only one offended by his son’s behavior, at least. But the Princess refused to comment on it in their son’s presence…

Why?

What questions did he need to ask to get to the bottom of this? Could he just ask his wife, “What happened?” Would that get more answers that explained everything but the core of the issue?

“If I didn’t visit her, she’d only wake up to eat every few months. Oh, and on that! She’s abandoned her diet! Not that I care about her diet, and we’ve all eaten people before, but it’s just another thing that she’s neglecting.”

“My love,” The Bull King sat up straight and eased Red King down onto the workbench with gentle fingers, “I think it’s time for us to turn in as well.”

His wife sighed and nodded, “It is getting late.”

They left the Red King to sleep.

[mci-writing]

heyy~ may i habe, hcs nsfw of senku, tsukasa, and gen fucking their s/o in the kitchen? like senku you guys fucked up something and waiting on an order, tsukasa takes you while youre making breakfast or something, and gen uses cream from a pastry youre making to lick it off your body? thank you ily i hope i did this right lol.

This has been years in the making, huh?

Sexy Kitchen Times (w/ Senku Ishigami, Tsukasa Shishiou, and Gen Asagiri):

TW: smut, modern/no petrification/post petrification au, small bit of bondage in Gen's part (he ties reader's wrists to the bedpost), no beta whoops, overstim in Senku's part, Tsukasa fucks his s/o next to a still hot stove ����🏾‍♀️

Ishigami Senku:

You had tried warning him from the get-go that substituting the recipe's ingredients with chemicals from his lab would be a horrible idea (esp when he pulled his Bunsen Burner seemingly out of thin air), but nooo he wanted you to trust the science process bc he was more than 1 billion percent sure it would work

Now you were standing in the middle of a nearly destroyed kitchen while ordering from the noodle place down the block, sending your lover a glare he knows a little too well when science experiments that involve you go horribly wrong

He hugs you from behind after cleaning up most of the mess, burying his face in your neck as he pulls you closer to him

This was what your friends deemed the affection maneuver, a move Senku only makes when he knows he might be sleeping on the couch for the night

"Y'know, it's so sexy when you get mad like this, dragonfruit" He'll teasingly whisper along the shell of your ear, pressing soft kisses into your skin while his fingers rub sensual circles into your hips

And for the moment, you completely forget about the kitchen debacle when his lips meet yours, turning you in his hold and helping you settle on the counter. He tugs your top off between kisses, nipping at whatever skin he can reach while his one of his hands happily move to fondle your chest

And, like always, it ends with you riding his cock (bc his stamina maxed out smh), your hands gripping onto his thighs for dear life as his tip nudges at a certain sensitive spot while he times the delivery guy through calculating the speed of your rocking and the pitch of your moans, who is definitely 10 minutes late this time

Your brain is mush by the time the food does get there, Senku happily coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you with a sweet "Just one more? So I can make it up to you?". It's the closest he can get to you forgetting the whole conundrum and he gets to watch your face shift in overstimulated pleasure

He does still sleep on the couch later that night, but it's only for a couple minutes before you cave and make him eat you out as payback (which you both know is just going to lead to a round of competitive sex, but I'll mind my best)

Asagiri Gen:

You'd already had an idea this would happen when Gen kept making innuendos about the glaze you'd made for your donuts earlier in the day, but a part of you wasn't really taking his words seriously until he'd told you to wait on the bed

I mean, you couldn't really go anywhere with your wrists tied to the bedpost, but you could hear the small happy pep in his step as he made his way back to you with the icing bag nuzzled snuggly in his hold

"Baby, look what I've got," He eagerly coos as he towers over your body, setting his knee beside you as he slides in closer on the bed. He holds the tip over your lips, squeezing enough for a little bit of the sweet concoction to spill out.

After your tongue swipes the small bit away, he gets to work setting a small dollop on each of your sensitive parts, stopping to admire his work once he finishes

He ensures that you've been licked clean of any stick sweet residue by the time he's finished, keeping track that you're thoroughly prepped before nestling into your welcoming heat

And he happily covers certain areas of your body with the cream again before fully allowing himself to go to town, enjoying the way his cum mixes with the sugary substance on your skin

Shishio Tsukasa:

"Ts-Tsukasa..." You manage out in an airy tone, tightly gripping the counter as the head of his cock nudges at your entrance. The small sounds you make as he pushes the head all the way in only make him smirk

He leans forward as he pushes fully inside, taking the time to cut the stove off before his hand softly grips your hips and drags you back against him.

"You shouldn't have teased me so much," He softly states into your ear, tugging on the lower back tie of your apron so it hangs freely from your body by the tie around your neck. His right-hand moves to grab at the plush fat of your ass, a smack sounding as he brings his heavy palm down and squeezes as soon as he gets a good grip on it

He easily slides in and out from the perfect combination of spit and lube, the tight hold on your hip allowing him to push and pull against you as he pleases

Each spill of his name from your lips only encourages him to go faster, the breakfast you'd been hard at work creating forgotten with each deep thrust he made inside, stars clouding your mind

[thefirstknife]

Got the first two little grimoires that you can collect in the Hall of Champions. It's a lore book called "To Old Friends." First two pages:

Feelings about these old Titan dads. Man.

Hello. Sav writing to Eris?

[cowboybrunch]

what if you were forced to chase someone around a thousand different universes. what if you hated them in every possible scenario, and what if they hated you back. what if your enemy became the only constant in your life. political opponents, warring galactic emperors, bickering neighbors, rival knights, coworkers competing for a promotion... "i'll find you in every life" but it's a threat

[6lovelytenders]

HI I LOVE YOUR TUGS OC, CASSIOPEIA. do you have any more information you can share about her :3 I'm so interested in her story

OMG YAYYAY! I would be glad to share more about her! I also did some doodles of her alive for fun~

Cassiopeia Lore ramblings under the cut

Her Captain was a very bitter man, who nobody in the port liked. He was also, not very nice to his tugs (honestly just think of capt. Zero but x10 worse, I need to think of a name for him…) which made Cassiopeia very rude, bossy, and just plain unlikable to most vessels and workers in the port. But she was very efficient and hardworking. And because this was before Hercules, she was the only ocean going tug in Bigg City Port, so people couldn't really complain.

Cassiopeia sunk in 1914 a few months after the start of WW1. During a terrible winter storm the navy ship she was bringing in lost control, and she was unfortunately crushed between DemDer Rocks and the ship. The Navy vessel she went down with is a well known story in the port, but she was kinda wiped from it over the years because of her less than great reputation + her captains' reputation as well.

As a ghost she's only visible to the naked eye in the fog, and the lighter the fog the less solid her form is. And because she's had some time to reflect on her life and all her flaws, she feels terrible for the way she treated others in life. So she takes it upon herself to warn lost/blind vessels about their proximity to the rocks.

She is so so lonely. Every time she sees another tug up by DemDer she desperately wants to go and talk to them, but holds herself back. Partly because she doesn't want to scare them but also partly because she's too scared of being open with someone again.

A fun bonus idea I had was that maybe OJ does vaguely remember Cassiopeia. Why he doesn't remember I don't know I haven't thought about that too much. (Another idea to add to the fanfic pile 😔)

[jadeandquartzes]

and/or 26. "I didn't intend to kiss you" + figayda

"I experienced a confusing overwhelm of emotions," Ayda says to the picture of Fig taped on the mirror. It's not the ideal effigy for practicing social lines like these. It's grainy, a little out of focus, though that doesn't dull the fine features of its subject. Fig's colorful skirt and wicked smile would be a proud addition to any photo. "The kiss was a byproduct of that."

It's not particularly convincing. Not to Ayda, who has a hard time with these things - so there's no way that it will work on anyone else.

"I was unsure of the socially acceptable response to the situation," she tries. "I didn't intend to kiss you. That's all."

No. That's not right either. Gods. The words taste like ash - and not the good kind, the kind that she wakes up tasting after a particularly strong dream of a former life. They're lies, which she's always hated - the kind that people love to slip into conversations so that they sound exactly like truths. Sometimes, they don't even realize they're doing it.

But surely she'll have to tell Fig something. The matter can't go unaddressed. Fig fled on her skateboard and hid in the bushes. This is a moment for social conventions, right? This is the part where Ayda should tell some sort of lie-like-a-truth so that both of them can be spared intensive moments of confusion.

Perhaps the ship has sailed on that one. Ayda's certainly experiencing a lot of intensive moments of confusion. Right now, for instance.

"Our kiss was...invigorating," she says to the Polaroid. "It has utterly unmoored me from myself. I do not know why I kissed you, but now I cannot fathom doing anything else with my time. Please explain to me your intentions, so that I may do any further research needed on this unique phenomena."

She gives it a moment. The picture flutters, its corner billowing with an exhale of her breath.

No bad taste. No strange ache of the heart. Hmm. Intriguing. Maybe this will be a better tactic than the others.

[sweetums0kitty]

Idk if anyone else can hear me but I need him catastrophically, biblically and, in way that’s concerning to feminism

Erik is everything to me, I need that emo boy like I need air in my lungs.

Idk if I’ll write it but I love the idea of death in a human form claiming him as a consort in exchange for his family. Give it a Hades and Persephone vibe where he can visit his family in the land of the living but he can’t stay. Idk I need him. @thelighttasteslikelasagna has heard all about him and approves. She’s my testing space for fanfics that never see the light of day.

But also literally if any of you want X readers to Erik I’m open cause he has my whole heart and soul wrapped around his fingers.

[savage-scarcity]

Personal head cannon that Konohamaru is kinda what kakashi was to Kushina. Like you can’t tell me Naruto doesn’t send him OFTEN to go check up on Hinata “discretely” when she’s pregnant and she OFC knows he’s there so after a while she just starts to acknowledge him more and more. Pretty soon konohamaru is looking forward to his time spent with Hinata because she’s just so goddamn sweet and kind.

[stvllioner]

Bro am I the only one SUPER bothered by bimbo!reader in NSFW fics? Why tf would idk Kento Nanami wanna be with someone an ADULT READER who whines and does grabby hand motions when they wanna fuck??? Idk man it gives me the hugest ick.

no, i agree. i freaking LOATHEEEEEE those stories with my whole heart. ts will have like 1k+ and it's just pedo bait fanfic. 😭 if you comment for clarification if the reader is an adult or a child, suddenly you the anti and jealous now!!!

[that-guy-sleepy-miles]

So.... it's been a year. Happy chapter two of PPP! It comes with a painting that took me 3 days!

Love you guys, and I hope you know I'm working hard on updating my fics!

[firemama]

Spamton fic where in very dramatic moments spamton drops solid lines that are definintely bangers in AND out of context, but they're like. Tumblr esc quotes.

Bitch says [[you cannot kill me in a way that matters]] and yeah it scares the shit outta whoever he's talking to but we, the 4th party internet people, know it is a quote from a tumblr post about mushrooms.

Spamton should say [[then perish.]] and everyone must take it seriously in-story.

[jaceeverett]

WHO: Jason & @savstone-rp

WHERE: Fox & Jane Salon

WHEN: early June

Was he going to regret this? To be determined. He had already put off his annual haircut far longer than he should have, busy focusing on The Challenge and then kicking off the summer season at the park, but he found the back of his neck sweating a little more than usual, and decided that it was time. And of course, given his luck, his barber was out of town on vacation, which meant that Jason wasn't going to go to the old man's shop... but he had another option.

And if she fucked up his hair, he could always seek revenge.

Pulling open the door to to the salon, he stepped inside, pocketing both of his hands and lifting his eyes to take in the decor, the sounds, the smells, the sights... it felt like the kind of place that Sav would cut hair in, to be honest. Suddenly, he realized that he should have called ahead -- did this place even take walk-ins? Was that a thing? Was he setting himself up for disappointment? Only one way to find out, he supposed, clearing his throat and asking the nearest person, "is Sav here today?"