#/ if anyone wants -- feel free to steal from me !! was considering doing *more* for the other muses
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PLEASEEEEE POST THE F/F SNIPPET I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH. I loved the last one you posted so when you said there's MORE? HELLO?
“Nope.” Astra flicked the light switch on the wall again, once, twice. “It’s definitely dead.” She moved over to the window, drawing the sweeping curtain aside and peering down the rain-sodden street. “Looks like the power’s gone out for everyone.”
It was supposed to be her birthday. Who wanted to have a power-cut on their birthday? She couldn’t even cook the dinner she had planned. Of course, she hadn’t told anyone it was her birthday, it felt too much like a demand for gifts or attention, but she’d been looking forward to at least doing something special.
She turned.
Lucille hummed an acknowledgement, continuing to light candles, flitting from one to another. They made the room feel strangely more like a temple than before. Lucille was one of those impressively and sometimes terrifyingly uncluttered people; her attic flat was all smooth white lines and high ceilings. It always felt far more peaceful than Astra’s place, which tended to be sprawled through with half-finished easels, half-drunk cups of tea and stacks of marking at any given stage.
Astra bit her lip. She felt rather useless simply standing there staring, even if Lucille had already done most of the candles anyway, so asking if she could help felt a bit pointless. It was all clearly in hand. She cleared her throat.
Lucille shifted to face her at the sound and held her last match up to mouth, illuminating a flash of soft pink lips, before she blew the flame out. She shook the matchstick, trailing smoke as she set it aside, but held onto the candle in her other hand. The wax was a deep purple, the flame the same flickering gold as all the rest.
“Have you ever experimented with wax before?” Lucille asked, oh so casually.
Astra released a breath, startled by the sudden question, and shook her head. Her pulse shot up. “No,” she said. “But we talked about it.”
She very much doubted Lucille had forgotten that, judging by the look in her eyes.
They had met a little under a year ago, when Astra had wandered into one of Lucille’s exhibitions after work. Astra’s works were all traditional fine art paintings – when she had time anymore anyway – but Lucille’s had been shown in photographs that day.
“People get funny about me exhibiting actual people,” Lucille had said, coming to a stop next to her. “It’s a shame, really. A photograph doesn’t quite capture the same effect, you know?”
Lucille’s work had, technically, been painting also. It was just that she had painted on people’s skin rather than a canvas.
One man stood with his chest brushed skeletal, each line of his bones and ribs lit glossy white again. His heart was the only burst of colour. Another piece was a woman whose mastectomy scars had been painted over with blooming flowers, new growth, life. Another of the photographs still had been a portrait of a woman with half of her face perfectly made up with make-up, and the other half painted to be shattering like glass. Ruined.
“It’s quite an effect, though,” Astra had replied. Her heart had hammered wildly in her heart, too big, entranced in a way she hadn’t felt in a while. “I can only imagine what the real thing is like.”
Lucille had smiled, head tipping to examine her, up and down. She watched Lucille back. She was a delicate sort of woman, cute and unthreatening. Astra had felt Lucille's attention slide through her veins like something molten all the same.
“I’d love to do you,” Lucille said, then. “Sometime. If you’re free.”
That was how it had started.
Astra didn’t consider herself the most lovely of models – she spent too many hours teaching art in classrooms and stealing chocolate digestives from the staffroom to be much of a work of art herself – but the paintbrush sweeping over her skin had been soothing.
She’d been painted by Lucille a number of times since then, small things; a bluebird on her shoulder, an ocean up to her ankle, a ring of fingertip-shaped bruises meticulously crafted around her wrists. She was always reluctant to wash the paint off, but she’d spent a long time staring at the bruises in particular.
That was how it had evolved.
“I think you’ll like wax,” Lucille continued. “Though, as ever, you are free to say no at any time.”
Astra walked across the candlelit room and sat down in the middle of the floor in response. She raised her brows at Lucille. It wasn’t what they’d had planned for the evening, before the blackout, but she certainly wasn’t objecting to the idea.
Lucille laughed, softly, under her breath. She filled a bowl of water in the sink before coming over too, sitting down. She set the candle and the bowl to the left and studied Astra for a beat. Her attention had turned laser focused again, in the way that always made Astra’s breath catch.
Lucille was the kind of woman who suited candlelight, moonlight; anything less defined than the bright fluorescent strips of artificial bulbs. They made her seem otherworldly. Astra watched her consider, something sliding honeyed in the pit of her belly.
“Off,” Lucille murmured.
Astra pulled her dress over her head with practiced ease and tossed it a safe distance away, somewhere without fire, before wriggling out of her tights. A shiver ran down her spine as the cooler air hit her bare skin. A second shiver followed as Lucille reached out, warm fingers brushing up her calf, before moving atop her knee to press and guide her legs away from where they hunched instinctively against her chest. Astra rested them flat stretched in front of her.
Lucille leaned in to press a kiss to her lips, deep and calming, before she pulled back.
“You look beautiful,” she whispered. “Stop worrying. I’ll do your front, so you can see the finished work.”
Astra huffed and smiled, waving a hand for Lucille to go ahead.
She watched as Lucille reached for the candle. She watched as Lucille held it over her legs with a steady hand, letting her see the first time. The purple wax pooled and dropped, splattering a starburst against Astra’s thigh.
“Oh, fuck.” It blurted out of her in a shocked astonishment.
If the paint brush had always had a lulling feeling, gentle and cold, then the heat of the wax was almost like being hit. It was the same flare of heat that quickly cooled. It was, all in all, impossible to focus on anything else.
“Okay?” Lucille asked.
Astra managed a nod and managed not to giggle, breathlessly. The world apart from them suddenly felt very far away.
“Good.” Lucille reached out with her free hand, and then in one swift movement grabbed Astra by the throat and pressed her to lay down on the floor. “Don’t move,” she whispered, against Astra’s ear, before nipping her neck. “You’ll be in trouble if you make me start over.”
Astra bit her lip for an entirely different reason than awkwardness, face flushing. She didn’t move.
The candlelight painted the room awash in shades of ochre, amber, and red; softening and sharpening corners, transforming the world she knew into new definitions. The light rippled and danced across the ceiling.
The second droplet of wax landed on her stomach, then the third, the fourth, the fifth and a small sound escaped her throat. She couldn’t brace for it. It was too unpredictable, never exactly the same heat twice. Some stung, some burned, some were the same gentle warmth as a kiss. She squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing turning ragged.
Lucille shifted more candles closer, more shades for her palette.
It took every inch of will power Astra had to hold still as the colour splashed over her; purples and blues and bright yellows and whites. She curled her fingers into fists, digging her nails into her palms. She thought she might scream – not from pain, exactly, but because of the way every burning wax-stroke made her more aware of her body than before. More sensitive.
Lucille stopped when she started whimpering, at a particularly hot droplet just below her waist. Her hips twitched. Needing to move. Needing to deal with it somehow. Lucille leaned down to blow cool air on the spot, another soft laugh on her lips.
Astra released another, helpless, curse word in response.
“If you can’t restrain yourself, dear, I’ll have to do it for you.” Lucille’s voice was teasing. “You’re being very distracting.”
“ME!?” Astra yelped.
Lucille smothered a grin, then started again.
She pieced her work together like the fragments of a mosaic and with time the heat turned to white noise, wax pattering like bright rain upon the windows of Astra’s mind. It was not, exactly, soothing, by any means and yet something about it was. It was overwhelming. It didn’t allow for wandering minds or ordinary troubles. She was a work of art, nothing more, nothing less. All she had to do, in the grand scheme of everything, was hold still. It was easy to get lost in the feeling.
Every so often, Lucille would pause, but time lost all meaning. It came in drips and drops, rather than anything so plebeian as seconds or minutes.
Finally, Lucille set the candles down completely.
Astra’s head swam, and the world felt softer, and she didn’t think it was just candlelight.
Lucille leaned back over her, arms braced on either side of Astra’s head, making sure not to dislodge the wax. Her blonde hair tickled Astra’s cheek.
“Good girl. Okay?” she asked.
Astra made a noise of agreement because words felt like far too much effort. She grinned up at Lucille to make it clear. Lucille smiled back. She leaned down to press another kiss to Astra’s mouth.
“Do you want to see?”
Astra gave her a look, because yes, of course she wanted to see.
Lucille’s smile turned to a grin again too and she helped Astra to sit up, slowly, so that she could get a good look at what she had become.
Astra’s eyes widened, her gaze roaming over the purples and blues and bright yellows and whites. Lucille had made her a constellation, a galaxy, a twinkling array of stars picked out upon the deepest swirls of night.
“Ooh.” Astra’s breath left her in a long, amazed, sigh. “Wow.”
She was, without question, fucking beautiful.
She would go to an entire gallery filled with pictures like that, 3D across the curves of her body; painstaking, blot by pretty blot.
She met Lucille’s gaze.
“Happy birthday,” Lucille said.
She’d known.
“I didn’t get through enough candles, technically,” Lucille continued, “but you can still make a wish. If you like.”
Astra laughed, and dragged her into yet another kiss, another, and another still. She kissed her breathless. She could think of nothing to wish for, in that moment, except what she already had.
The lights above them flickered, before switching back on as the power outage came to an end. Astra blinked against the brightness.
Lucille gave the nape of her neck a reassuring squeeze and pulled back. “Get cleaned up,” she said. “I’ll get dinner on.”
Astra caught her hand, and squeezed it back.
“Thank you,” she replied.
Lucille tossed her a wink, bringing Astra's hand up to her lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
She was never going to feel the same lighting candles on a power-cut again.
#hides face#i am weak to the whims of the people#okay last one#back to your regularly scheduled enemies to lovers and heroes to villains and all that 'what you expect from tmt' jazz#f/f#lesbian
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saucy preferences [ ryan er.zahler ] / stolen from @entityforged
bold for yes. italic for maybe. strike for absolutely not.
general.
heterosexual. bisexual. homosexual. pansexual. demisexual. asexual.
enjoys sex with men. enjoys sex with women. enjoys sex with nonbinary persons.
enjoys sex with one partner. enjoys sex with two partners. enjoys sex with multiple partners.
prefers experienced partners. prefers moderately experienced partners. prefers inexperienced partners. no preference.
one night stands. friends with benefits. serious relationships.
private locations. public locations. unconventional locations. nature oriented locations.
light stuff.
submissive. dominant. switch.
top. bottom. power bottom. soft top. switch. service top. service bottom.
initiates. does not initiate.
no sex drive. low sex drive. average sex drive. high sex drive. hypersexual.
likes to kiss. be kissed. make out. be made out with.
vaginal sex. anal sex. oral sex. intercrural sex.
clothed sex. partially clothed sex. naked sex. lingerie/kink specific clothing.
extra notes: all this to say ryan does *not* have many qualms against intimacy in the bedroom, save for mutual enthusiasm and forward communication.
medium stuff.
general: having toys used on them. using toys on their partner. using a plug. using a plug on partner. being worshipped. worshipping. having their hair pulled. pulling hair. wax play. power exchange. sensation play.
touch: handjobs. fingering. mutual masturbation. likes to be spanked. likes to spank. scratching. being scratched. bruising. being bruised.
oral: cunnilingus. fellatio. anilingus. likes to bite (to the point of bruising). likes to be bitten (to the point of bruising).
sounds: silent. grows in volume. loud. fakes/exaggerates. swears. calls partner’s name. bites to muffle themselves. prefers a quiet partner. prefers a loud partner. prefers dirty talk. give praise. receive praise. being teased. teasing. likes to be humiliated/degraded. likes to humiliate/degrade. calling partner daddy/mommy. being called daddy/mommy.
sight: likes to be watched. likes to watch. third party witness. being blindfolded. blindfolding.
binding: likes to be held down. likes to hold down. likes to be tied up. likes to tie up. wear a collar. make their partner wear a collar. wear a leash. make their partner wear a leash. toys
extra notes: some of these are case by case scenarios as ryan *does* partake in one night stands, so he's less likely to entertain dirty talk or allow power exchanges with partners he's new to.
#* ... meme ( 𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠 )#* ... ryan ( 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 )#usfw#/ promised kian i'd do this meme for vday bc of our ship and nearly forgot . . . . .#/ but thank u for letting me steal from u :-) ) )#/ if anyone wants -- feel free to steal from me !! was considering doing *more* for the other muses#/ but my brain is at 2% capacity . . .
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Happy lovers season Shana! I'm very excited for the upcoming prompts! 😀 Can I please request some more Enola Holmes or Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries? 💚 If not please feel free to do a dealer's choice. I love all that you write and it fills me with joy to see new updates from you 😊
set in the same universe as Here is Your Home Country
Dot doesn’t want a big wedding, doesn’t want a lot of fuss. Married at her church, and then Prudence has offered to have the reception in her garden. Probably more at Jane’s insistence than anything else, but considering Mr. Butler has already insisted on handling the catering and logistics and anything else she might need assistance with, she might as well.
It’s sweet of him, really. She knows that he’s worried about her sisters that disapprove and her mother that disapproves and her brothers that had been apocalyptic at the news, and how that means she’ll be planning this wedding without them. She’s not worried. They’d never cared about her life or her happiness until it was something that would embarrass them.
The less said about what her friends from church think, the better. But she hasn’t headed their gossip for years, not since she started working for Miss Fisher.
Jack’s a good man and doesn’t deserve their ire. She won’t tolerate it.
~
“You’re really doing it, huh?”
Dot looks up and feels first pleasure then wariness that settles on a gut rolling mixture of the two. “Hello, Nell.”
Her older sister is standing over her, blocking her light, but she just closes her notebook and uses her foot to nudge the chair opposite her. The waiter should be by again soon.
She looks different out of the heavy makeup and light clothes of the club. Wearing a sweater and long skirt, she looks like the sister Dot remembers. “Mum called me. Me.”
Dot winces. “You’re invited, of course, I just wasn’t sure where to send the invite.”
Nell leans back in her chair, raising an eyebrow and reaching into her purse for a cigarette. Dot wishes she wouldn’t. She hates the smell. “I didn’t really get that impression from you two.”
“We were just colleagues then,” she says, which isn’t completely accurate, but neither is friends. Or perhaps it is. They knew one another then, and respected each other, and were kind to one another. But she’d had Hugh, and Jack’s eyes had been on Miss Fisher, and – they hadn’t known, then, where they would end up.
It’s nice.
She knew him and liked him and cared about him before she loved him. It makes her feel like she can trust him, that he won’t surprise her in a way she doesn’t like.
Nell hums, then says, “She wants to know if you’re having money troubles.”
Dot stares, wishing she knew her mother a little less well and didn’t understand exactly what she was saying. “She thinks I’m marrying Jack for his money because I have gambling debts?”
She shrugs. “You know what she sees at the church.”
She’s not going to get angry. Getting angry won’t do her any good. “I’m marrying him because I love him.”
“You loved Hugh,” she says. “He was cute. Your age. He even converted.”
Part of her wonders who was keeping Nell updated on the gossip of her life. The rest of her doesn’t care. “He didn’t love me right.”
“There’s a wrong way?” she asks, too lightly.
“Yes,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from scowling. “And I can’t love anyone right who loves me wrong. Hugh and I would have been miserable, in the end. We were in love with people that didn’t exist.”
She’d wanted someone who would love her through all of her changes.
Hugh had wanted someone who would never change.
Even in her bitterest moments, she can’t truly blame him. She had been a static woman when they’d met. She was the one that changed and she was the one that had wanted someone who would love her anyway and she was the one that had ended their engagement when she’d realized that someone wasn’t him.
Nell leans forward to steal her half-drunk cup of coffee, leaning back as she gulps it down in three long swallows. “Okay. I’ll tell Mum to back off, yeah? Not that it’ll do any good. She never listens to me anyway.”
“Oh,” Dot says, startled, and then Nell is getting to her feet and waving as she melts back into the crowd of the street.
~
Bert and Cec are in their room, sleeping after working through the night. Jack is over, but he’s never not known, and these days they don’t even bother to shove their twin beds apart when he's here.
She’s seated on her knees at the coffee table, Jack sitting behind her on the couch, nose buried in a case file that she’s going to look over herself as soon as she figures out this seating chart.
Jack clears his throat and she leans back, pressing her back to his knees and looking up. The file has been discarded and he’s looking at her with a sort of warm softness that has her reaching out her hand and letting him haul her upright just enough so that she can fall into his lap, seated sideways so her legs are stretched out over the couch.
His arms come around her waist and his lips quirk up in an almost smile. She smooths out the line between his eyebrows with her thumb, almost asks, but know it’s a waste when he’s nearly there already.
Sure enough, he looks at the space over her head and asks, “Do you want us to get a new house?”
She blinks. She hadn’t considered it, really, had assumed that she’d move into the house Jack has now. She’s been there. It’s a very nice house. A little empty feeling, perhaps, but she figured they’d solve that quickly enough. Instead of saying any of that, she asks, “Do you want me to want us to get a new house?”
He looks at her then, exasperated, and she smiles, shifting her hand lower to trace his bottom lip. He licks his lips, his tongue barely brushing her fingertip, and her breath hitches, but he says, “Rosie picked it.”
It makes sense that his first wife helped pick the house, and Dot has never tiptoed her way around Rosie, but that’s not quite what he’s saying.
Rosie picked it.
“Do you like it?” she asks.
Jack shrugs, looking away from her again. “She made a good choice.”
“Yes,” Dot agrees. It really is a very nice house, in a good area. “But do you like it?”
He shifts beneath her, meeting her gaze when he admits, “I let her pick what she wanted. I thought things would be okay, if I could give her what she wanted.”
And now it reminds him of how much that didn’t work, how she left that house and him both. He’d offered her the house in the divorce, but she hadn’t wanted it, for her own reasons.
“Why don’t we pick something we both want?” she asks, because no matter how nice the house is, she doesn’t want what he doesn’t’. “I bet Mac has some good leads on houses that are going to be on the market. She knows so many useful things like that.”
“Yeah?” he asks, relief making his whole body relax even as his arms tighten, tugging her that much closer against him.
“Yeah,” she echoes, then dips down her head for a kiss he’s eager to give her.
#prompt answers#prompts are closed#asks#solvblad#miss fisher's murder mysteries#mfmm#i'm so glad you asked#dot/jack is my rarepair and i love them
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d&d 5e languages and gender
i know this is already a very nerdy blog but please indulge me a moment,,
for my homegame i've been fleshing out how different languages in the game deal with gender / pronouns based on their cultures (some of them are canon languages but some are for our setting) and it made the little nerd in me very happy so i wanted to make some headcanons for the rest of the dnd languages and share it for anyone who'd like to steal / take inspo
feel absolutely free to use these in homegames but if you use for anything streamed or for your own ttrpg/homebrew/fics then crediting/linking back is appreciated :o)
disclaimer: this blog is run by a genderqueer trans man and any queerphobic interaction will immediately be blocked
common
common started off with the standard he, she, & they pronouns but simply Loves a good loanword and so its not uncommon to hear people using pronouns from other languages in otherwise entirely common dialogue. there is some Fighting about whether this is appropriative based on the individuals culture or whether its unfair to people who only speak common to keep up with them all
dwarvish
not too much variety in what most people would consider pronouns, it tends to be more one singular neutral pronoun for someone you don't know / don't know well, and then variations that are more like honorifics than anything else. their pronoun might translate more readily to "skilled with a hammer" than anything regarding a gender
elvish
lots of pronoun options that explore different presentations of gender but they are also age/experience locked. a feminine male elf would use different pronouns as a child, teen, young adult, young adult with job, middle age, middle aged with children, etc. using pronouns from a different life experience bracket from you is incredibly frowned upon and people just dont do it
giant
there is one pronoun for giants & kin and one pronoun for not giants and the one for not giants is not derogatory at all, its just used to differentiate who is part of the family or not (individuals adopted by giants tend to use the giant pronoun)
gnomish
LOTS of variation in pronouns. gnomes love inventing new pronouns. there are general grammatical rules that they follow to Signify that its a pronoun but hearing three new pronouns a day is like. not uncommon. lots of gnomish teens go through a phase of making up at least four new pronouns they want to go by. uncommon to only go by one set. typically introduced along with your name
(more under the cut)
goblin
no gendered pronouns, all pronouns are instead structured around relations between individuals. so one person would use brother pronoun with one person, son pronoun with another, best friend pronoun to another. the family pronouns are not locked to actual family, just what the relationship is like. if you don't know someone well, its "cousin", "niece/nephew", "auntie/uncle", or "grandparent" depending on their age
halfling
pronouns are split between public and private use. in general in the community or with outsiders, there's a single pronoun that translates loosely to "friend". actual individual pronouns are only known to and used with close friends and family. there's a small handful of them and only some of them have gendered connotations
orc
there are only four categories of pronouns: masculine, feminine, both/mixed, and neither. but there's a decent amount of variations because there are varying levels of formality for each of them. there are ways to conjugate them so they're more formal and respectful, but also lots of diminutives to make them more affectionate and closely-bonded
abyssal
no use of pronouns. lots of very specific derogatory terms that are used in place of them. i shant elaborate.
celestial
lots of variations in pronouns. they are not very closely tied to gender, but are tied to very specific aesthetics. instead of having individual pronoun words, in celestial you just use root words. so one person might use the root word for things that are soft and gentle and natural for their pronoun, while another person might use the root word for things associated with dark and murky and mysterious things for theirs. tend to be tied to domains
draconic
no use of pronouns, only names and titles. if you happen to share a name with another individual who speaks draconic, you would need a unique title to go after it. the full name and full title is said at every reference of someone
deep speech
deep speech has pronouns probably but hearing them for any individual you dont share a close identity group with makes you violently nauseous and then the word immediately leaves your mind so it's just really hard to learn them
infernal
there are words for "you", "me", "us", "we", "this one", "that one", "those ones" etc but no classic pronouns as far as individual usage goes. if someone really needs to be specific they would use whatever pronoun that individual uses in their native language. tieflings have introduced a Lot of neopronouns into infernal but theyre all borrowed from other languages and then reworked into infernal grammar and tend to be localized to communities
primordial
individuals are referred to their elemental type (or "none") rather than pronouns tied to gender. so it would be more like "the windy one" or "the rocky one" than anything like he or she
sylvan
no standard gendered pronouns, it's entirely nounself. so basically infinite amount of pronouns that are easily understood by anyone familiar with that noun. so you would have things like pebble pronoun, teapot pronoun, sword pronoun, with some general affiliations with presentation but less so with gender
undercommon
pronouns are based on level of respect and not gender, but there are also pronouns specifically used for children. like craftsmen would typically all use the same pronoun unless one was incredibly successful and respected, or had a very bad reputation, etc. there are pronouns used only for royalty and pronouns used only for deities
speak with animals
when translated into common, tends to just be translated as the animal's bio sex, but it can go a little screwy when speaking about creatures who have biological sexes so outside the humanoid concept of sex and gender that even magic dont fuckin know how to translate it. kind of just makes a weird bubbly noise in its place
if you read this far thank you thank you and if you end up using these in your campaign lore or fics i would love to know :o)
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Palia Character Characterizations/Impres.
(impres. is short for impressions btw! also big ass rambling)
I started Palia the other day and I'm amazed it's free. Aside from some obvious glitches, the game is pretty good and it's on par with some games that charge money. I've been doing some quests but I'm not too far into the story, but I have some strong feelings about some characters. This might not have a big fanbase but if there is only one fan, I am one! I'm just gonna give some first impressions and how I headcanon some characters personality wise based on other impressions of them from the villagers n shit. You should try it out if you already haven't!
Nai'O:
STARTING OFF WITH MY ANNOYANCE FOR THIS MAN. I know a big controversy with him is that he's in a monogamous relationship with another villager (spoilers: Kenyatta) yet he is still a romancable character. Although in his culture it is normal to have poly relationships, he has some pretty inconsistent writing (im gonna get into this more later with Reth). He argues that Reth flirts with everyone, which he clearly is annoyed by, but if he falls in love with the player, he actually is fine dating both you and Kenyatta depending on your dialogue choices. Seems inconsistent that he would get pissed at Reth while he was over here flirting with the player. ALSO— Kenyatta literally calls Reth hot, so she’s not even fully loyal to him either. He seems aware of this, since it honestly sounds like his disliking of Reth is more jealousy than anything. I personally don’t see the significance of having the two of them date monogamously if they’re clearly open to poly or having an open relationship. Aside from that, he's a very sweet villager who I knew I was gonna like from the start. Farm boy himbo that knows what he's doing until it comes to social cues. Romance him if you wish! He's a sweet boy who wants what's best for his family but aside from that, he's a fairly simple character. As far as I've explored the world and quests, I haven't found any deeper nuance or lore with him since his family is pretty wholesome. Nothing wrong with simplicity, but I love characters with a little more complexity and nuance since there is so much more to dive into, analyze, and admire.
Reth:
my boyfriend First impression was how this man was a flirt. It's pretty heavily implied imo that Reth is a womanizer and sleeps around. His boss, Ashura, mentions something about Reth likes having his nights free and Nai'O blatantly just says this man flirts with everyone in proximity. I find the beef between him and Nai'O interesting, as it implies either Reth is jealous of him or dislikes him because he considers him cowardly for hiding his relationship with Kenyatta. When Nai'O sends you off on a quest to deliver something to Reth, he calls Reth "loverboy" and he calls out him and Kenyatta for sneaking around and also Hassian's love poems. This is kinda reiteriated when he makes a comment about Hassian's love letters being not-so-secret. He's aware how he's an obvious flirt, which I find admirable. He does not give a fuck about how anyone perceives him and is open about it, which is why he shames the other two for sneaking around with their romance lives. In another quest, he makes another comment about stealing Nai'O's muscles. Initially I thought he was interested in Kenyatta but I think him flirting with her is more of a rivalry between him and Nai’O. Amongst the villagers, they are the two canonically best looking, which is an interesting dynamic. It makes sense why Nai’O would then be pissed off Reth was flirting with Kenyatta, as he knows she does find him attractive. I headcanon that Reth is one of the few characters that would be romantically interested in the player even if they didn’t romance him because of his voicelines. Some of them are like “uh oh, gotta go uh…” and he’ll make up an excuse to leave sounding flustered. Reth, to me, is one of the more complex characters because of how much shit goes unsaid with him. He comes off as very easygoing because he's stressed because he has a hard time saying no and ends up lying, which gets him into a load of shit. His small talk is really sweet though, I like to headcanon he's flirty so the (spoilers) cartel can’t tell who he’s close with. I'm currently romancing him and one other man! I really find it cute how he sweet he is to his sister. Bold move to abandon the family careerline (especially since he is I think the only dude in the village who is not carrying family tradition) and he knows all eyes are on Tish (his sister) because of it. It's cute that he only cares about how people talk about him when it impacts his sister. I assume this is why he usually takes all the shit the other villagers give him because he knows it would go on his sister otherwise. I felt so bad bc I actually didn’t cover for him in one of his friendship quests because I thought ashura would’ve figured I was lying. In Reth’s letter, he writes if you covered for him or didn’t and says there’s no hard feelings and that he was using the free time he got to spend with his sister. I’m sorry pookie 🥹
Hassian:
Really liked him at first, but he became unlikable really fast. He's super attractive if you're looking for a black cat boyfriend or a tsundere, but it gets old quick. He comes out rude even when he's trying to be nice and in real life this shit would be so toxic. In game reasonably it's more tolerated but it just is not my cup of tea. I'm usually a sucker for dudes with this archetype too since it's just nice to see people soften up and get comfortable, but Hassian just can be overbearing. I was leveling up my friendship with him and he sent a letter saying "You'll probably freeze to death without my help, so take this. You'll thank me for it later." like lil bro fuck u. Jokes aside, I'm not a fan of the fact he's romancable mainly because it's revealed later on (spoilers) that he is in love with another villager, Tamala. It's lowkey fucked up because there is a whole quest where you have to deliver one of his letters to her and if you deliver it to her on the first try, she laughs at his letter, showing it's clearly not reciprocal, at least anymore. On his romance quests (I searched it up bc I got curious) she admits she led Hassian on because she wanted a fling and he wanted marriage. I felt so bad for bro but lowkey he brought this shit on himself. Tamala affirms what I'm arguing because she explains they broke up b/c of his "sour" demeanor. Again, cute on paper, but if you don't write any development it gets old fast. It kind of even feels like you're a rebound for Tamala. I do like that the villagers know he has a soft spot for Auni (one of the 2 children villagers) because he always plays with him. This could have been a great premise for character development but unfortunately it just does not go anywhere. I know there's a reddit thread complaining about Hassian's lack of development and another for Nai'O being in a relationship and romanceable-- if anyone's is interested in reading more.
Hodari:
First impression: dilf. I'm not crossing that out I'm being honest. I instantly wanted to romance Hodari but honestly as I kept playing he lowkey came off as such a dad and then I realized bro is in fact a father. If you want a dilf, go for it. But if you have daddy issues like me, you're gonna look at bro in a different light when you get to know his character. His lore is pretty fucked up but it's sweet he's trying to look out for his kid, just the way he goes about it is not the best. I did really like one dialogue in idle chat with him that he admits he knows his daughter sneaks out and he doesn't say anything about it because he knows he can be a helicopter dad sometimes. I'm still debating as of now if I'm gonna romance him or not but I haven't seen any red flags with Hodari as of yet, just that he's reasonably a little closed in and dry, but he's not nearly as hostile as Hassian.
Jel:
bros side profile is immaculate. my HUSBAND. Loud and proud bro. At first I genuinely did not fuck with him because he was so mean initially. He made it sound like you were a peasant. He develops quickly through small talk though and it's so cute, like he easily became my favorite. He goes on night walks and enjoys the beauty of literally everything: some of his favorite gifts are insects and shells. He finds everything potential of beauty. He's a little corny when he's greeting you (he'll talk abt how you brighten his loneliness bc he's so dramatic) but I adore it. Also call me odd but I find that when a man has a girl best friend, immediate green flag. His relationship with Tish reminds me a lot of me and my best friend I adore it SOOO much. I'm in the process of romancing him and BRO I found out through youtube tutorials that if you're romancing him and someone else he comes to your house and tells you "If you were trying to keep this from me because you thought it would affect things between you and I, you're wrong. I'm a big boy. I know how to share." WHAT? WHAT? WHAT. Anyways I would 100% recommend romancing him I see no flags if they are any, red is my favorite color. goodnight.
#palia#palia game#palia reth#palia jel#palia hassian#palia hodari#palia nai'o#reth#jel#hodari#nai'o#hassian#palia mmo#palia open beta
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Gay people real?!?
Can i get a burger extra cheese
Or if you dont have that
A kingleader fic about Caine just,,, wearing kingers robe (assuming he has more than one) and kinger catching him red-handed ——> fluff ensues
I have shart block so i’ll prolly draw it too (if it’s okay wit u tho)
Thamk you 🫶
I do not have a burger, no, but I do have some gays.
Anyone making art about anything I write ever makes me the world's happiest guy so if you wanna draw it then fuck yeah draw it
Caine quietly opened the door to Kinger's room. He knew the chess piece was in his smaller, separate fortress near the stage, so he decided to use this opportunity to his advantage.
Moving further in, Caine scanned the room for anything resembling a closet, but found only the large pillow fort that took up near the entire room. Maybe it was in there, along with likely everything Kinger owned. He really could've just had a room made of pillows in the first place, all he had to do was ask...
Pushing some of the pillows aside, Caine went inside and found a lot more than what he expected to. The place was larger than what it had looked like and had an abundance of furniture and decorations. It was rather nice. He couldn't help but run his hands along most of it, lingering on the bed specifically for probably longer than what would be considered normal.
Remembering why he was there to begin with, he floated over to the closet and pulled open the doors. Inside were about five identical purple robes. Perfect.
It was at this point where he hesitated. Would this be wrong? He was in a relationship with Kinger at this point, and he wasn't doing anything inherently weird. He just wanted to try on one of the robes, then he'd put it right back.
He pulled one of the robes off of its hanger. Caine examined it as he held it in his hands. It was soft. He opened the robe and placed it on his shoulders, feeling himself being weighed down by it. From where he was floating, the bottom of it brushed against the floor.
As he pulled it closer to himself, he felt a pleasant warmth rise in his face. The robe felt comforting and nice. It felt like Kinger. So absorbed was Caine in the robe's feel and the thoughts of Kinger it provoked, he didn't hear the door creak open further nor the shuffling of pillows being moved aside.
"Caine, what are you doing?" The ringmaster startled, both of them yelling in surprise. His blush worsened exponentially. He had forgotten to close the door, and now he had to face the consequences.
"W-well, uh, you see, I've always wanted to- to try on one of your robes. They've always looked-" His eyes wandered along the robe Kinger wore now, "felt, so soft."
"Couldn't you have just spawned one in instead of trying to sneak in here?"
"I suppose, but..." He faltered, attempting to find the words that would make his feelings make sense. "It just isn't the same! That would just be another robe, these are your robes, y-you wore them, they, um, smell like... you."
"...Caine, you don't have a nose." Kinger was touched by the sentiment regardless, despite how little sense it made.
"I know I don't, let me be romantic!" The chess piece chuckled, putting a hand on Caine's face which he immediately leaned into.
"Alright, then. You know you really could've just asked for one of my robes, I would've given it to you. You look cute in it anyway." Kinger caressed the ringmaster's gums, his voice lowering somewhat. "I like seeing you in my clothes."
He felt Caine's face start to burn up against his palm along with hearing a quiet dial-up sound. "A-ah- I didn't know you'd- uh-"
Kinger pressed his face to Caine's teeth and smiled. "You don't need to be so sneaky with this. Feel free to steal from me whenever you want."
Caine took his word for it, which resulted in multiple morning greetings starting with the ringmaster being weighed further down to the ground by a large purple robe. Jax would snicker and nudge Kinger, but the chess piece would never be listening, his eyes trained solely on the main thing that made his digital life worth living.
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I saw the messages I got sent in my inbox, thank you guys for letting me know about the plagiarism, I appreciate it really.
Obviously I feel for the OP and I truly do hope that they feel comforted in knowing that there are people who believe them. I genuinely can’t imagine what it’s like to have 20k words worth of something you made stolen like that. I’m heartbroken and angry for them and the fact that it happened twice is so…
At least on my end, I’m angry because Fae (@/kennedyswhore, @/hoeromi) is someone I interacted with frequently, and not only was she someone that inspired me artistically, but she was also someone I considered a friend. I’m just angry about it, and it pisses me off more that people who put so much energy and time into creating something gets stolen from them and gets claimed as someone else’s work with more viability. It’s sick. Please block those pages, she has a few other ones too she uses to stalk other accounts so be on the lookout for things that may be copied over too.
Don’t fucking steal from other people. Just don’t fucking do it seriously. It’s cruel, it’s awful, and you’re a low-life good for nothing bitch if you’re willing to sit down in front of your computer to copy and paste someone else’s work and call it your own. It’s things like that that only result in writers leaving this hellsite and stop posting their writing all together. Fuck you if you do this. If you lack the creative ability to make your own shit, at least live in your truth, cause doing stuff like this is just pathetic.
And of course, if anyone ever EVER finds something that sounds remotely like my stuff, either on here or on any ai chatbot spaces, please let me know. Writers and creators work so damn hard to put out original stuff others want to enjoy for free, so much energy into their work just to have it stolen from them. If you plagiarize, I hope you jump headfirst into fucking traffic.
#don’t plagiarize#don’t steal#don’t be a fucking loser#because eventually there will be no more writers for you to copy off of#you’re actually demented in the fucking head if you do this
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬
asra alnazar, portia and julian devorak (all separate)
what your lover thinks of sending you love notes and what they send to you
minors + ageless blogs do not interact
𝘈𝘚𝘙𝘈
- if theres anything he loves more than pillows its taking the time out of his day to write a little love note to you
- can you imagine him locking his ankles in the air while he writes a love note to you while he’s away from home, away from you because he’s thinking about the smile on your face when you get to read his notes
- adores telling you about how beautiful, fantastical, brilliant things could never amount to you
- he puts his heart into every word and occasionally sprinkles bits of poetry in there because he can’t help sharing the lovely sonnets and odes that remind him of you
- his chest fills with so much love seeing you sent him a love letter, keeps every single one tied together in a special place in his shop as if a thief will come in the night to steal your lovely words away
asra's love letter gift includes :: raw crystals, shiny foreign currency, and feathers
𝘗𝘖𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘈
- the idea came to her when she’s too busy with work at the palace when there’s not much time to see you, but she wants to express how much she misses you and adores you
- she writes a lot of love letters to you only because she finds these moments in her day where she has time and really it’s shifted from hobby to art form in which she comes up with new ways to describe how she feels in the moments that you’re not with her and honestly she gives asra a run for his money with how she can make you tear up
- she has a little journal she brings around with her so when she’s daydreaming of you, she can jot down the little spark of love that blossoms in her chest
- portia is a talented writer and she has the countess to thank for that, but the countess couldn’t have possibly taught her ‘my heart lingers in my eyes vying for a chance to give itself yours’, lines like that have anyone tearing up
- she cheers a little whenever you sneak a love letter to her, either in a book or at the doorstep of her cottage, she’s sighing because she loves you more and more each day
portia's love letter includes :: seed packets, soft textile and ribbon from the market, and heart folds with messages inside
𝘑𝘜𝘓𝘐𝘈𝘕
- now this one, don’t even get me started with love letters, don’t you dare miss returning one to him without telling him you’re busy or you’ll surely have him pouting the next time you see him
- he loves sending you love letters as much as he loves receiving them because it’s blatantly obvious that his love language is words of affirmation and if he doesn’t get those through your letters then there’s a fair chance he’s taking this to heart
- aside from that, julian is the king of poetry, where do you think portia got it from?
- mazelinka has caught his distant eyes and worried why he’s so serious and he’ll twirl a quill in hand and explain how he’s considering what he’ll put in his next love letter to you (drama king 2.0)
- his smile is so melancholy when he receives another love letter from you, tears prick to his eyes sometimes because you really are his treasure and the best ways he can express how much you mean to him are through these passages where he’s free to declare his love and free to tell you that he loves you without the stress of consequence when it’s only him, his pen, and needlessly expensive paper
julian's love letter includes :: sea shells, topographic maps snippets of where he is, and small sketches
<333 𝘗𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘌 𝘙𝘌𝘉𝘓𝘖𝘎 𝘖𝘙 𝘓𝘌𝘈𝘝𝘌 𝘈 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘔𝘌𝘕𝘛!! <333
#the arcana#the arcana game#julian devorak#asra alnazar#the arcana portia#portia devorak#the arcana x reader#the arcana x you#the arcana x apprentice#the arcana x mc#asra x you#asra x reader#asra alnazar x apprentice#asra alnazar x reader#asra alnazar x you#julian devorak x reader#julian devorak x apprentice#julian devorak x you#julian devorak x mc#portia devorak x reader#portia devorak x you#portia devorak x apprentice#portia x apprentice#portia x reader
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Lucifer x Transmasc! Reader - Falling for the Fallen Angel - Chapter 6
Bow Chicka Bow Bow
Lucifer teases you throughout the day before giving you what you asked for.
Smut
Your eyes lit up as you rushed forward, your arms wrapping around his form and nestling your head against his chest, “That’s amazing!”
He chuckled as he rested his hands on your back, “I know! I’ve been dying to tell you but I wanted to keep it a surprise until my room was done.” You could hear the smile in his voice.
You peered up at him, “ That’s what you and Charlie have been talking about? And to think, Alastor tried to get me to make a deal with him for that!” You laughed.
Lucifer stiffened and pulled you away from him, his hands gripping your shoulders as his yellow eyes bore into you, “he tried to do what.”
“He tried to get me to make a deal with him in exchange for what you had been talking about. When I declined he warned me about the friendships I was making,” you explained. You hadn’t told anyone else this as you were a little embarrassed at how badly you wanted to know their secret. As you spoke Lucifer’s eyes sharpened. You gulped. Were you not supposed to say that?
“Oh that piece of shit,” He growled and started off to the door, practically flying off the bed. “I’ll show that radio creep who he’s fucking with.”
You jolted after him, grabbing his hand, “Woah, Dear, it’s okay!” Look, you and Alastor didn’t get along that well but you didn’t want him dead!
He tried to yank his hand away but you held firm. He was clearly holding back as he could have easily thrown you to the other side of Hell, “No it isn’t! He tried to steal my lover’s soul! That isn’t something he gets to do and get away with!”
Your mind pushed away what he was saying. You had more important things to deal with right now, like stopping this father from destroying one of his daughter’s friends. You were tempted to let go of his hand and let him go forward with his plan but the image of Charlie’s distraught face flashed in your mind and your grip tightened.
You looked at him sternly, “how are you going to explain killing him to Charlie?”
He paused, whatever he was going to say dying in his throat. You continued, “yeah sure, he tried to take my soul but Charlie believes in redemption. Do you really think killing him would do any good?”
Lucifer was quiet for a while before he sighed, his muscles relaxing as he no longer fought your grip. You tugged him towards you, dragging him into a hug. He returned the hug, grumbling something about “that stupid fucking deer” . You softly chuckled as you gently kissed his cheek. As the two of you stood, rocking slightly in each other's embrace, it finally clicked what he had said.
Lover.
He called you his lover .
Your cheeks heated as you thought about it more. Yeah, the two of you made out and were lovey dovey with each other but he considered the two of you as lovers. You had hoped he would but you never wanted to bring it up, you were too scared he’d laugh at you. You knew he would never do that but that didn’t stop your fear from festering inside you.
“Lover?” You whispered to him, holding him tighter.
“Mhm,” he hummed proudly. He titled his head to make eye contact with you, faint hunger sparkled in his eyes as his eyes began trailing down your face.
Your heart picked up speed and Lucifer grinned, he could hear and feel as your heart pounded in your chest. One of his hands held the back of your head as he moved his mouth to the crook of your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, heat blooming throughout your body. You could feel his lips turn up in a smile as his tongue slid out and began gently tracing your collarbone. You moved your hand to your mouth as Lucifer moved you against the wall, his tongue continuing to explore your upper torso.
Once Lucifer got his fill he began to press gentle, hungry kisses along your neck, your eyes rolled with pleasure. Your free hand gripped the back of his vest and his kisses turned to biting. He nestled his head against your neck, biting down harder than previously. You sharply inhaled as he sucked on your skin, his teeth still buried in your neck as the two of you slid down against the wall and landed on the floor. Your hands clawed at his clothes back, you could feel Lucifer smile against you.
He pulled back, licking his lips as he looked at you. You were breathless as you panted, your mind fuzzy. He smirked at you and wiped his mouth of any saliva that had fallen down his chin. He eyed you with half-lidded eyes as he.. Stood up?
Lucifer rested his hands on his hips as he looked down at you, puffing out his chest slightly. “Well, it seems like it is time for bed,” he said nonchalantly, looking at his non-existent watch.
You stared at him, shocked. No way he was going to leave you like this. “Wh- what? You’re.. Going to bed?” You stammered. You were a mess on the floor, your heart still pounding in your ears.
He shrugged, “Yeah, why not?” He said, his yellow eyes staring smugly at you.
You sputtered out some noises that were supposed to be words but nothing made sense. He leaned over and moved his hand under your chin, making you look at him.
“Don’t worry, Darling. We will continue this tomorrow,” he said with a sharp smile. He kissed your head softly, “Goodnight, dear. Rest well, you’ll need it.”
You practically melted into the floor as he let go and walked over to the door. He grabbed the handle, the door creaking as it opened. Lucifer gave you one final grin as he walked out, the door clicking behind him.
You barely slept last night, despite being warned. How were you supposed to sleep after that? He can’t just make you a mess, desperate for more, and then leave you!
Well, you guess he can, considering that is exactly what he did. All you did last night was shake with anticipation and desire, your mind wide awake even as you tried to fall asleep. It was futile, though, as you knew you already were fully awake and had no chance of falling asleep. When your alarm clock rang you were quick to turn it off. You both did and didn’t want it to be morning.
On one hand, you really wanted to see what Lucifer had planned. On the other, you had barely slept and you had a feeling the fallen angel was going to destroy you. You sighed and rubbed your tired eyes as you slung your legs over the side of the bed. You pushed yourself off the bed and walked over to your bathroom. You felt pretty good today, other than being sleep deprived and you were tired of feeling useless, no more off days.
You showered, the warm water waking you up, and brushed your teeth. You looked at yourself in the mirror and flexed your wings. Your torn wing looked better than it did yesterday, in a few more days you’d be able to fly. Maybe you could get flying lessons from Lucifer. Once you were dry enough you tugged on your clean uniform and walked out your room.
You covered your mouth as you yawned, walking into the kitchen bumping into Lucifer.
“Shit!” You exclaimed before apologizing, “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”
“Ha ha,” He dryly laughed, “haven’t heard that one before.”
“That’s not- I didn’t-” You stammered before giving up, “Why are you in here?”
“I’m here to help you!” He smiled. He was still not wearing his overcoat with his sleeves rolled up, showing off his dark forearms that laid underneath. His hat was also missing which allowed his slicked back blonde hair to be seen.
“What?”
“I didn’t think it was that hard of a concept to grasp,” he teased. “I’m here to help you make breakfast.”
“No no, I got that,” You roll your eyes playfully. “I meant, why are you helping me? This is my job, I can handle it.”
“Oh, I’m well aware, I’ve tasted your cooking before.” He responded with a grin, “I’m just making sure you don’t get too tired! I don’t want you exhausted before tonight.”
Your face felt like the surface of the Sun as you just merely nodded. Words were not working for you. You walked over to this week’s schedule. Seems this morning you were making a relatively easy breakfast; waffles topped with blueberries, strawberries and whipped cream with a side of chocolate scones and bacon. Easy enough.
“Alright, well, if you’re helping me this morning can you start on the bacon?” You asked as you reached for the all-purpose flour and salt.
He nodded and grabbed the bacon out of the fridge, setting the package on the counter next to the stove. Lucifer bent down and grabbed a frying pan from one of the lower cabinets before straightening his back and setting it atop a burner. You turned away and grabbed the other ingredients for the waffles and you could hear the pieces of pork begin to sizzle against the hot pan.
Eventually you had the batter and poured a small portion of it into a waffle iron. Lucifer had finished the bacon and you asked him to start on the scones, and he agreed. While the first waffle cooked you went to the fridge and grabbed the berries before running them under the faucet. The light on the waffle maker flashed green and you set the berries down and carefully placed the first waffle onto a plate you had set next to it.
You continued to make the waffles and Lucifer grabbed the cocoa powder, baking powder and other needed ingredients for the scones. You watched as he combined the dry ingredients before adding the butter. It was mesmerizing to watch him work around the kitchen. You may have been the hotel chef, but damn. The efficiency and grace of this man made you almost not notice the flashing green light. You mumbled an “oh shit” before plating another waffle.
The two of you finished up breakfast fairly quickly since there were two of you and Lucifer helped you set the table. You set out the plates and glasses as he neatly placed the utensils. Once everything was set up you leaned out the dining room doors.
“Breakfast!” You called. You could hear the conversations quiet down and grow once more, this time accompanied by the echoing of footsteps.
As the group got closer you could make out their conversation.
“I’m starved!” You heard Angel complain.
“Would ya’ quit your whining? You’re about to eat,” Husk said in his usual gruff tone, a small smile forming on his lips.
You held open the door for them as they entered, flashing them a smile. Charlie was towards the back of the group. She stopped next to you, her eyes were glossy like she was about to start crying. You closed the door to the dining room so you could talk to her.
“Are you-” You were cut off as she hugged you, sniffling.
She pulled away and wiped her eyes, “I’m just- I’m just so happy to have extra help around here. I know I have the other helping but you came to me and offered . And, it just means so much to me.” She gave you another quick hug.
You smiled warmly at her, patting her back, “I’m glad you’ve allowed me to help you achieve your dream.”
Charlie shifted in your embrace, sniffling once more, “What if- What if this doesn’t work?”
You pulled her away and held her shoulders gently, “Charlie, you have worked so hard on this hotel, there is no way it won’t work!”
She opens her mouth to say something but you cut her off, “And even if it doesn’t, even if Heaven doesn’t allow sinners to be redeemed, it will still make Hell a better place. And I am so proud of you.”
As you spoke her eyes welled with tears once more and embraced you for the third time. Ever since you started dating Lucifer, you felt way closer to Charlie, as if she were your child as well. Of course, you’d never force her to view you that way. You hoped you weren’t making Charlie uncomfortable or making her feel like you were wrecking their already broken family more. But by the way she confided in you and how we reacted to your help, you figured things would be alright.
You gave her a quick squeeze before letting her go and opening the doors. Everyone else was eating, except Lucifer, who had been quietly looking for you. He found your eyes and then looked at Charlie, who was wiping away her tears once more as she sat down. Lucifer walked up to you.
“Is everything alright?” Lucifer asked, worry coating his every word.
You nodded, “She was thanking me for working here.”
His eyes now held pride as he smiled, “That’s my girl.” He turned to look over at her, admiration and joy flowed over every inch of his being.
The pride Lucifer held for his daughter was adorable. He was so proud of her, even if he was bad at showing it. You set a hand on one of his shoulders, smiling at him. He placed one of his own hands on yours, squeezing your hand as he continued to watch his daughter and her friends chat over breakfast.
The rest of the day went by uneventfully. Well, it was other than the teasing Lucifer did to you. As you were cleaning the dishes from breakfast he came up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. He’d kiss your neck softly, mumbling words you couldn’t quite understand into your skin and when you’d ask him to repeat what he said he'd just grin at you, saying something like “you’ll find out later.” Which, while hot, would be quite ominous if you didn’t have a general idea of what he was going to do.
You couldn’t think about it for long, otherwise you’d turn into mush and wouldn’t be able to perform your job. Your face basically never stopped burning as the day progressed. You avoided everyone, especially Angel. He’d know exactly what was up if he took one good look at you. You were never lonely, though, as Lucifer would be right there, smiling at you.
At one point the two of you were in your room, sitting on your bed. You quietly hoped and wished he’d hurry up and do what he said he would. However, any time you hinted at it, he’d look at you and feign ignorance and then laugh as you’d get flustered.
“I know it’s hard for you to wait, my darling,” he’d coo, placing a hand on your cheek as he grinned. “After dinner, wouldn’t want anyone to hear.”
Finally, after hours of waiting, dinner came and went without any problems. Once everyone finished up and you said your goodnights as they walked out the door. You closed the dining room doors, your entire body heating up as Lucifer smirked knowingly at you. You felt his gaze on you as you did your best to clean up in a quick manner. You just wanted to be done as fast as possible, you wanted to be out of the kitchen. Worst part was Lucifer didn’t even help, he just watched as he leaned against the wall, his smug grin never wavering.
You’d never cleaned the kitchen faster than you had that night. Once the plates and glasses were in the correct cabinets and the utensils in their drawers, Lucifer walked over and tugged you through a portal. The place was unfamiliar as you looked around. There was a lavish bed, a small table on either side. A few shelves lined the wall, various ducks occupying them. There was also a workbench against one of the walls, a family portrait of Lucifer, Charlie and who you assumed to be Charlie’s mother hung above it. There was a window on the other side, you had to be in the hotel still as you could see the city from a nearby window.
“Welcome to my room,” Lucifer said, answering your question.
Ah, that explained the ducks and photo. You were snapped back into reality as Lucifer pressed you against the wall. He nibbled on your neck before moving his head up.
“Are you sure you want this?” He whispered, his eyes sincere and they locked onto yours.
You nodded, “Yes, I’m sure.”
He wasted no further time as he pressed his lips against yours, your tongues dancing in each other’s mouth. His clawed hands began to unbutton your uniform and it was clear it was taking a lot in him to not tear it off of you. He eventually got it off, leaving your chest exposed to him. He broke away from the kiss and picked you up, laying you on his plush, comfortable bed. He grinned down at you as he stood at the end of the bed. His fingers trailed down your chest and to your waist, his claws tugging at the waistband of your pants. Lucifer gingerly unzipped your pants before pulling them off of you along with your underwear, grinning down at what laid before him.
With a swift motion he was shirtless, revealing his thin form that was faintly muscular. He crawled on top of you, his eyes hungry as he locked eyes with you. As his hips neared yours, you could feel the bulge of his pants grow and you couldn’t help yourself from thrusting your hips upwards against it. Lucifer sharply inhaled before lowering his mouth against your chest, running his tongue along every crevice he could reach, memorizing how each and every part of you tasted.
Your eyes rolled back and you bucked your hips against his once more. Lucifer chuckled as he lifted his head from his exploration, “So needy..”
You melted from his words and he continued exploring. His tongue retreated back into his mouth and was replaced by his teeth as they pierced your skin and you couldn’t stop the moan from escaping your mouth. Your noises only fed into his hunger for you as he traveled back up your body, leaving a trail of bites in his wake. Your fingers dug into his back as he continued.
Lucifer pulled away from your body, peering down and smiling at his artwork. His eyes flicked back up to you as he slowly began to unzip his own pants. Your eyes darted back and forth to his hand and his eyes until he was finally fully revealed.
Lucifer grabbed your waist firmly as he lined himself up before thrusting in harshly. You screamed his name as he pounded you into his mattress. He was hitting every pleasurable spot inside you and you were mush in his hands as he went in and out. The bed rocked with each powerful thrust Lucifer’s hips did against yours. You could feel yourself near climax already.
He continued to fuck you into oblivion, soft grunts and moans escaping his lips, which only aided in pushing you over the edge as your muscles tensed and finished. But Lucifer wasn’t done as he continued to rock the bed with you, his pace quickening randomly to break the rhythm he had going to catch you off guard. His name was all you could say in between moans and screams of pleasure. It wasn’t long until you neared a second climax as Lucifer’s movements became desperate. He thrusted quicker and with each sound of skin against skin you drew nearer. Lucifer let out a loud moan as warmth bloomed in your stomach as the two of you finished.
Lucifer looked at you lovingly as he panted. Sweat coated both of your bodies as Lucifer carefully pulled out. Lucifer leaned forward carefully, kissing you gently on the lips before he retreated to the bathroom. You caught your breath and you could hear water start running as Lucifer started the bath. While his exhaustion had weakened him, his weak state was well strong enough to carry you to the bathroom, in which he gently set you in the warm water. He slid into the tub as well and sat next to you as one of his arms wrapped around you.
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence in the bath, the warm water easing your muscles and washing off the sweat. Lucifer clung to your side, never once moving without somehow touching you. As the water peacefully lapped at the side of the tub, you rested your head on Lucifer’s chest, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer magne x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#reader insert#x reader#transmasc reader#no y/n#smut
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Bully
Bully!Soap x gn!reader (college/highsool whatever au)
It's the last evening you're all together and you can't wait to leave it all behind. Your bully finds you one last time and his intentions are not what you expected
Hurt no comfort, reader getting closure (kinda?)
Warning: Soap is an asshole in this,I'm sorry y'all
Finally it’s over. You’ll be free come morning. Free of classes and professors and classmates and most of all free of bullies. You can do what you want and wherever you’ll end up, it will be a completely new chapter in your life.
You just have to get through this one evening. Honestly you considered not coming to the graduation party, you didn’t really have a connection to anyone anyway. But you came to the conclusion that it would be a nice way to say goodbye to these four years of hell.
You pushed through, you did it and after this evening you won’t have to see any of these spawns of hell ever again. You haven’t had this much peace of mind in a long time. The certainty of things finally being done makes you feel more confident so you don’t really glance up when John fucking MacTavish decides to join you.
What he could want now, on the last evening of all of you seeing each other, eludes you. Maybe he wants to get on your nerves one last time. Bully you one last time but suddenly you don’t even care. Let him be an ass, you won’t have to see his irritating face ever again come morning.
“Hey, ugly. Surprised you decided to show your face here. Can’t be that anyone invited you.”
He’s smirking down at you with that annoying, cocky smirk that makes so many girls swoon. You don’t even look up at him, leaning back on the steps leading down to the backyard of whoever’s house this is. You take another sip of your drink.
“Still haven’t found your voice after all these years, huh, mutt.”, he continues to goad you and finally you look up at him, meeting his eyes.
It’s really sad, that he’s so pretty, such a pretty shell for so much ugly personality. “What do you want MacTavish.”, you ask, almost bored.
He seems taken aback by your lack of reaction to him. But he finds his grin immediately again. “Ohhh look at the little mutt being all grown up and not being scared of me, anymore.”
He sits down next to you, leaning into your space and you lean away from him, the railing behind you keeping you from falling back. “Don’t forget what I can do to you.”, he whispers almost threateningly and suddenly you laugh. He flinches back from the unexpected sound.
Your laugh is easy and carefree, your eyes sparkling with honest mirth as you look into his eyes. Your laugh steals his breath. He’s never seen you laugh like this and it throws him off. God he didn’t know you’d sound so pretty, even though he imagined making you laugh like this more times than he can count.
“Yeah?”, you ask still giggling. “What are you gonna do? There’s no lockers here for you to lock me into. What are you gonna do? Trip me? Pull my hair? Rip my clothes? Drag me to the bathroom and lock me in there? Tell everyone here that “little ugly” came to the party to ruin everyone’s view?”
You relax against the banister behind you gaze still locked on him and he opens and closes his mouth once before leaning in again: “No, I’ll give you what you’ve wanted from me all these years.”
Suddenly your mouth is dry as he puts his broad warm hand on your thigh. Your eyes meet his, big, like a deer caught in the headlight and suddenly everything makes sense. The way he’d pick on you, his flushed face when he spilled water over you and your shirt got see-through. The way he’d call you ugly because you can see it in his eyes, he thinks you’re anything but ugly.
He gently starts letting his hand wander to your inner thigh where it begins to drag upwards and you reflexively close your thighs, trapping his hand, preventing him from travelling higher. You leave his hand there and lean in too so your lips are next to his ear.
“And what do I want from you, MacTavish?”, you don’t miss the way he shudders when he feels your breath on his skin. His hand grips your thigh tighter.
“You want me to touch you, have since the first day, where I bumped into you on accident and made you drop your books. Ever since then I couldn’t get you out of my head, the way you’d looked up at me from where you gathered your stuff. Wanted to see that face over and over again. That’s why you never rand from me, mutt, you wanted me to bully you, to make you feel all helpless and small. And now I’ll finally give you the bullying you wanted from me.”, he murmurs to you and maybe if it were still that first interaction he just recounted you’d react with goosebumps.
Instead you grab his wrist when he tries to move his hand again and rip it off of you. You laugh again and he leans back looking at you, shocked at the surprisingly cold sound.
You shove his hand against his chest and pat his cheek condescendingly and harder than he should allow. “No, Johnny. I didn’t run because there was no where you didn’t find me. You’re an asshole to think I’d want you after everything.”
His eyes are wide and you see cracks in his façade for the first time. “But you’re obviously attracted to me.”, he almost splutters and you grin and stand up.
“Sorry MacTavish, no body and face could ever be attractive enough to cover the stench of your rotten personality.”, you say pleasantly, brushing off invisible dust from your thighs. Or maybe you’re brushing away the reminder of his touch.
Johnny can’t believe what’s happening. He was so sure of it. He’d get to have you today, after three years of making you look at him with those adorable tearful eyes, you’d allow him to make you all glassy eyed for a different reason. And he’d be so good, so much better than you’d expect, that you’d ask for his number and he’d get to keep you as his nice little pet dog. He’d get to bully you like he’s always done just with an added layer of pleasure.
“Darling, please. Let me explain.” He hates how whiny his voice suddenly sounds, the petname slipping out subconsciously.
“I hope you have a nice rest of your life, MacTavish. I’m outta here. Nothing here for me to miss. I hope I never see you again.”, you say, then turn and wave over your shoulder.
“Please. Stay.”, his voice is thin and why the hell is he the one that sounds like a pathetic dog now?
You don’t spare him another glance as you leave, missing the way he’s the one with glossy eyes for once.
#the sewer writes#john soap mactavish x reader#johnny x reader#soap x reader#soap mactavish x reader#bully!soap x gn!reader#gn!reader#I did my boy so dirty in this I almost feel bad#this came to me and I had to#tosses this into the void kinda hoping no one will see it#don't be mean please#cod x reader
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Inside Job — New Years
warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, 18+, mentions of sex, allusions to sex, heavy petting, makeout, mentions of alcohol and food, limited consumption of alcohol and or food, genderless reader, gender-neutral pronouns and pet names, mentions of family.
contents: pretty mild considering my other work but tagged adult for safety. cute kissing and making out with your faves, their new or old holiday traditions, mentions of food and drinks and holiday fun. Happy New Year drama free and fillied with fun. Hope y'all enjoy!
a/n: Happy New Years!! From me and the shadow board to you all!! 💖
Brett Hand
the two of you manage to tuck into the corner of the bar you were celebrating in, Brett wanting to join in on the tradition you had with your friends of celebrating out on the town for New Year's and having fun with the family you've found and enjoying the moments and the hijinks that nearly always tend to ensue.
Brett, for some reason, keeps thinking that your friends don't like him when they've threatened you with either stealing him away should you ever hurt him or break his heart or just outright trading you out for Brett. You can't say you're upset, you'd say the same thing. You love this man.
"Thank you for letting me come along!" He exclaims over the music and the noise, bringing you a refill from the bar of the drink you had, making sure to take your drinks and cover them whenever you stepped away or had to use the restroom, taking a sip to assure you they were safe even though you trusted him with your life and told him so, constantly, "I'm having a lot of fun, your friends are kinda' great."
"Funny, they're saying the same about you honey," you murmur in his ear, taking the opportunity to talk low and drape yourself across him like velvet in the cadence of the atmosphere, "telling me everything I already know about, like how wonderful you are, how charming and sweet you can be. How handsome and smart you are," you carry on, littering kisses on the underside of his jaw, uncaring for anyone who manages to see.
"My Brett."
"Your Brett?" he laughs, hesitant and a little nervous, surprised at how affected he is by that statement on your lips. He feels you nod against him as you drape the hand holding your drink over his shoulder while you press your forehead against his neck. "Mhm, they keep threatin' to replace me with you should I treat you wrong."
"Really?"
You nod in response against him, not noting the awe and surprise in his tone and how taken aback he is, always forgetting how your boy is so easily swayed by himself into thinking he's lesser when in reality, he's everything and more. The countdown begins, and quickly you're joined by your friends all gathering around to yell along with the ball drop and for the new year to begin, meanwhile you can't be bothered and have been unable to look away from Brett since the moment you laid eyes on him this morning in bed.
"Absolutely. Wanna' show off and be my kiss at midnight?" and Brett nods enthusiastically in response, taking the drink from your hand and downing it on one, very frat-like, go and bringing you back close to tell you how much he loves you between the both of you. He kisses you into the New Year and manages to do it for the rest of them, and they always feel just the same. Otherworldly.
JR Scheimpough
you celebrate New Year's at a party the two of you were invited to, dressing to the nine's and going out to dinner beforehand at some restaurant that was probably already booked out for weeks, if not months, and yet getting let in with ease from barely any effort from JR. Show off. After dinner, the two of you take a ride and head up to the party from the invitation, a top-floor party at some politician or CEO's place, a big band in full swing with an open bar. It's a black-tie event and you're glad you planned accordingly because you still both look more expensive than the rest do altogether. The two of you manage to sneak a few messy kisses in the elevator before you arrived on the floor, being able to fix his hair after nearly ruining it just before the doors open. If it's noticeable that he's flushed and his lips are puffy, no one comments on it.
after the usual schmoozing and small talk, the both of you sneak away to a balcony overlooking the D.C. spread, wind merciful and not being as cold as it could be in the night. JR comes back after refilling your drink to find you draped over the balcony and admiring the view before he joins you, commenting something coy in your ear and getting you to giggle before he hands you your drink and you both cheer, something murmured about great company and another year down, another to go as you clink your glasses together and drink in celebration.
After sipping away at the sparkling drink within the crystal flutes, he sets them both aside so he can take you in his arms and hold onto you while swaying to the music playing from indoors, Life Is but a Dream by The Harptones crooning low as you get swept up into JR's strong, steady arms and get spun out then brought back to his chest, your arms sidling around his neck as you play with the short hairs at the nape.
The song slows to something more melodious and lilting, Chopin if you had to guess, and listen to the countdown begin. He keeps you calm and grounded as the cheering picks up in volume, a large hand encompassing your hip locking you in the moment and not letting you get swept up away in the current of it all.
You get to soak up the moment with him, feel strong arms wrap around your waist as he makes you forget everyone else around you both, the countdown from the next room, and the fireworks nearly a city away firing off in the distance. All you can feel is him and his touch, the brush of his nose against your pulse as he hums the notes of songs that play softly against your skin, inhaling your perfumed scent as you sway chest to chest, wholly enveloped with each other rather than anyone else. You start the new year off right, with each other, and it's better than any other year you've had already.
Your gloved hand grasps his chin and lifts his head up to hover near yours, watching his eyes blink open and lid half-shut, peering down at you with a concoction of adoration and lust pooling in dark eyes. Counting down, you murmur the digits in the space between you both, telling him happy new year just before you kiss him and the new year begins, the old one still close by as you let him make you forget about it all.
He’s your New Year's kiss and every resolution you could make.
Alpha Beta Robotus
It's his first New Year beyond being locked up in the basement or left in tube-based solitary confinement. With that in mind and you making sure you take him home with you, not letting anyone have the mere idea of stopping you and your plan for the midnight countdown, you've set yourself on a mission to start the new year with him. And you intend on making it a good one.
"You've got mistletoe?" Alpha Beta stares quizzically up at the plant you've managed to hang high on your ceiling above the doorway to your kitchen between the hallway where you both now stand, "Isn't that a little excessive?"
"Only if you suddenly have lost interest and are letting me know that I've now got to find someone else to supply my kisses up to the New Year." You shoot back, looking up at him with a shit-eating grin he is tempted to kiss off, now that you've mentioned it, standing in your fuzzy socks upon the hardwood waiting for the sitcom-loving robotic bastard to just kiss you already.
While you're contemplating on whether to tug him in by the lapels or by his hair, Alpha Beta leans down and cups your cheek before kissing you tenderly, softly, with all the grace and poise of a noir heartthrob in one of those films you see off the classic movie channel. "No, I don't think I've lost any interest."
"That's sweet and all, but I'm afraid you'll just have to remind me, thoroughly." you murmur, eyes darting between his and then back down to his mouth, returning to glance up into glacier eyes just before he tugs you closer with a strong arm around your waist as he presses his lips to yours once more. He's picked up humming as he kisses you, another trait he's mirrored and adopted over time, and it feels better knowing that Alpha Beta's kissed you so many times he can't help but mirror it back to you.
By the time the countdown nears, he's got you spread and sidled on his lap, thighs encasing his as his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your pants and over your underwear, teasing you in strokes that match the tempo of the countdown and leave you keening against him impatiently. He tuts and chides at the show you're putting on and just as the countdown ends and the new year begins, you tug him into a kiss by his hair and he groans low, jaw clicking mechanically as his eyes glow a fraction before shutting.
Alpha Beta's hand finally begins to play with you properly and by the time you breach for air, you're dazed and beaming, already looking fucked out as you keep him close by his half-undone tie and grin.
"Happy New Year, AB, now fuck me until I forget it."
Gigi Thompson
She doesn't get a lot of solid downtime to spend with friends or family, so when she gets to enjoy herself and hang out with her loved ones, she goes all out. Gigi spent the holidays at home with you but convinced you to join along with her trip down to Georgia to see her family for New Year's, claiming that you're family to her the same as they are.
After a flight that took no time at all, spending it eating snacks and watching comedy specials, you manage to get to her parent's house in no time. The visit isn't as daunting as it could be, you having made the basic introductions and impressions at her family reunion last summer, already knowing her parents well enough to help out with cooking or setting up rather than just being left to stand around as a guest. You get the family treatment and damn if it doesn't make you a little teary-eyed.
"And you didn't think that they liked you," Gigi comments after prep is all set up and done, the two of you out on the back porch drinking tea and enjoying weather that's at least slightly warmer than D.C. "I can't help it, I'm always going to try and make a good impression, no matter how long I'll know them for."
Gigi laughs and gives you a pitying pat on the knee which you playfully swat away before she sips at her iced tea. "Can't be that bad, and besides, it's New Year's Day that's the eventful time. Eve just means drinking and talkin' shit before the rest pile on in tomorrow. That's when the real shit starts."
"Noted," you murmur into your glass before seeing the soft light of the house behind you both reflect on her face and how the night air makes her just glow. Her parents mention the countdown starting from inside but leave you both to your own devices. You take her hand in yours and squeeze gently, her matching it and then counting down between grasps of each other's palms as the countdown gets closer and closer to midnight.
Setting your drinks aside, you brush her hair back behind her ear and cup her cheek, careful not to muss her makeup if you can help it. "Love you, Gigi," you murmur, enjoying how her eyes don't hide the emotion in them, seeing her reciprocate in look before words. "Love you too, baby," she shoots back, lips in a blushy grin. You hear the final numbers said aloud and hear her parents celebrate from inside, maybe even a bottle popping, but you only focus on the woman before you as you pull her close and kiss her over and over again, starting a New Year tradition you'd like to continue to the rest of y'all's days. You do.
Reagan Ridley
With everything going on in her life, the last thing she needed was some unnecessary party that she'd have to get all dressed up for, fake some smiles, and give some unwilling hugs, all the while wanting to be curled up at home with you. And that's what she proposes and does. You have a lazy day, not even bothering to change out of pajamas until necessary, and even then you both change into clean sweats and old sweatshirts or tees. It's much needed, a lazy holiday, especially just being able to talk about everything and nothing while being sprawled across the couch or your bed and enjoying one another.
She's got movies selected and queued for the whole day, a mix of your collected favorites and some new ones the two of you had been meaning to watch but hadn't had the time to until today. Snack breaks come regularly, absolutely enjoying yourself while gorging down chips and popcorn and your favorite snacks while you've got Reagan's legs in your lap and toss bits of candy or popcorn into her mouth.
Her New Year's were always filled with family drama or facades, but this year, for the first time in a long time, she gets to enjoy it fully and not fake her smiles into something unreal. No, you earn and deserve every single crooked one thrown your way from her and you cherish each one received more than the last. There are naps and intermissions and moments where neither of you say a word for the entirety of the movie, only knowing each other are awake from slight movements or each other's hands grazing across each other's body. Other times the two of you are laughing so hard you're crying, over literally nothing at all and struggling for breath. The type of wheezing, hysteric, can-barely-hold-it-together laughter. It's a good sight on her.
The two of you are nearing the end of another movie when Reagan glances at the clock and sees that midnight is approaching fast. She scrambles up and into her kitchen, yelling from the other room that there's no need to pause the movie - which you do anyways - and hear her shuffle about and pull something from the fridge and pop a cork. She pours glasses and brings in two flutes of something bubbly and bright, either champagne or sparkling cider, and whatever graces your tongue has you grinning at her in your tattered sweater and fuzzy pants with the snoopy print.
Taking in the moment, you pull up onto the screen the ball drop and curl up against one another, infectious grins on both of your faces as you watch the countdown and share the experience. It's memorable and you'll never let go of the feeling you have when you're right beside her, hand in hers. It's electric.
Reagan kisses at your knuckle from your conjoined hands as her eyes are glued to the screen, counting along with the hosts for the ball drop meanwhile you're too enamored with her to look anywhere else, knowing you are exactly where you want to be now and want to be next New Years, and hopefully many more after that. She turns and spots your soft smile and blushes before the two of you knock your foreheads together, counting down the final 3, 2, 1, and kiss, languid and lazy and soft before breaching. You clink your glasses together, cozy back up against one another on the couch, and return to your movie. Pressing your lips to her temple, you wish her a happy new year, and as Reagan returns the favor against your collarbone, she wishes you the same.
Andre Lee
"I've never had a New Year's like this before!" You exclaim over the music, moving along with him beside you and letting him twirl you around and bring you back only to crash into him, stabilizing and getting lost in the high of the moment, and other things, as you stare at him beneath bright, glowing lights than drench Andre in rainbow hues.
"Well here's your first of many!" he shoots back, grin infectious as he giggles and squeezes at your side, stepping to the side to bring you closer to the music and standing behind you so you get the better view and he can look over your shoulder and head. "Enjoying yourself?" he says over the EDM that's blasting on the giant speakers up front, nearly as large as bikes if not cars. You nod enthusiastically, bopping along to the beat.
You take Andre's hands in yours, beaded bracelets and kandi clattering on each other's arms and wrists as you move along to the beat and feel yourself warm up even in the cold of December-turning-January, the heat of bodies warming the air up just enough to be perfect for the moment.
"That's good! Need another hit?" you shake your head no, thanking him anyway and he taps at your waist, signaling that he's going to unzip the bag at your hip, pulling out his THC pen that you decorated the other day with paint and little sticker-diamonds, making it look like Lisa Frank threw up on it.
Andre takes a hit, offers it once more to be sure you don't want any, they zips it back into your side bag before pecking the corner of your mouth affectionately, blowing the smoke away from you after holding it in for a moment. "Told you the bag was a good idea, can never hold anything in these tiny pockets." you murmur against his mouth, tasting faint flavor from the vape alongside the unwavering smell of weed, giggling against his lips.
Before he can respond, the DJ queues the countdown, and Andre jumps up and down excitedly beside you, eyes bright and glossy. "Oh I never asked," and before you can question, he kneels before you on the floor, taking your hand, and you know he's joking around but the sight still sends your heart into a frenzy, "sugar, do me the honor of being my midnight kiss?"
You laugh, pointedly mentioning that the countdown is going on as you both speak and he shakes his head, refusing to get up until you give him a formal answer. "Yes, Andre, I'll be your midnight kiss. Always." With a happy shout, he hops up to his feet and falters a moment before cupping both sides of your face between his palms and kissing you with enthusiasm, tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue as confetti rains down and the music plays, starting your New Year off just right.
Glenn Dolphman
He usually would spend New Year's eve with his daughter but she's with her mother this year. You decide to cheer him up and spend the holiday with him, appearing on his doorstep thirty minutes after ending a phone call with him after getting his update, bringing groceries from your home to his to make him food and make some new traditions you hope to share with him beyond just this year.
Glenn keeps telling you that you don't have to go to all the trouble for just him, and you continue to shrug it off in efforts to cook and care for him, shutting him up with doting, affectionate kisses in the meantime. You eventually give up and have him just sit at the kitchen counter watching as you move about, letting him help occasionally and tie the bow on the end of the apron, ignoring the warmth in your cheeks as you flush at his comment of how you look so cute in it.
"Goddamnit, just," you sigh, palms braced on the counter before you look up from the granite to him as he grins, pleased with himself, "just sit back and stop being sweet, you're killing me here." Trying to turn around, you go back to a mixing bowl of cookies and aim to reach some measuring spoons for the baking powder before you get swept up and placed atop the counter and closed in, Glenn's blunt nose knocking against yours.
"And just what do you think you're doing?" you chide, a hand on your thigh laying stagnant while the other immediately reaches for him, sprawled across his broad, solid shoulder as you feel his arms cage you in, safe and warm and secure with him surrounding you. "Testing my luck in the hopes of practicing my kiss for midnight."
You hum, brow raised as you peer up at him, looking from beneath lashes that blink doe-like. "Oh? Just like that?" Glenn nods and your hand smooths back to the hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging teasingly and pushing your own luck in the same way he is, knowing that mixing bowl's gonna' be abandoned until way later in the day, if not until late this evening.
"Alright, sarge, go on ahead, make me feel real lucky," you murmur, cupping his jaw and snaking your fingers in his hair to tug him close just so he can pull you against him and kiss you breathless, nipping at your lip tenderly in the way you taught him as not to break it, letting your legs attempt to lock around his waist. They can't even touch let alone cross at the ankle. It's safe to say those cookies don't get made until way past the countdown, and Glenn's counting off times you gush around him rather than seconds until the New Year. He likes celebrating this way far better.
Myc Celium
he doesn’t really give a shit about the New Year, mainly uses it as an excuse to get fucked up and party, but lets you have your fun, staying around at home and allowing you to press kisses across his orb and under cap gills until he’s flushed and the hues start flickering as you make him forget about the New Year while getting fresh with you.
You dress up a little and manage to get a party hat onto Myc, not without some expletives thrown your way tethered together with demeaning pet names, flagella still around your waist as you lean up on tip-toes to secure it around his cap and make sure it's not tight. He helps you stand and lifts you in order to get you higher, all the while he's calling you and your entire bloodline waste of space bastards
The two of you go about the day pretty normally, cooped up at home since there's no work party this year nor any enticing ones thrown by friends or family. The two of you just lounge about or get small tasks done around the house, display parallel play, and just do other things apart from one another while being nearby. Conversations flow occasionally and other times you can hear him on call with Andre while playing a game as you reorganize something or finally settle down to stitch those patches onto your jacket.
By the time it nears eleven, the two of you settle down for a movie, curl up with one another, greasy takeout or fast food, and watch a movie, something kitschy but classic like When Harry Met Sally. Myc constantly chimes in about how the dynamic is pretty similar to you, but he thinks he's Harry with the charm and wit when he's high maintenance enough to be Sally. You humor him and litter sticky, glitter-gloss kisses to his orb or the underside of his cap across downy-soft gills.
You had set a reminder for when it would near five minutes away from midnight just so you could give Myc a classic new year's kiss with the countdown. Timing the movie out perfectly, in a scene of fated clandestine brilliance, the final scene comes on the moment you start counting down until midnight in your head, voicing along the lines that are too sweet to ignore from Billy Crystal.
"- when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
"Aren't you a sap?" Myc comments just as you grasp at the edge of his cap and cup the underside of his orb tenderly, leaning him down to meet you halfway as you countdown and finally reach one, murmuring happy new year against him as your lips brush his surface.
"Happy New Year, Myc." you breathe, leaning back flushed a minute later after he got handsy, feeling him nudge against you and crowd you against the corner of the couch cushions. "Happy New Year, sweets."
#jr#jr scheimpough#myc#myc celium#my inside job#personal inside job#my thots#jr scheimpough x reader#myc celium x reader#myc x reader#jr x reader#glenn#glenn dolphman#glenn x reader#glenn dolphman x reader#reagan#reagan ridley#reagan x reader#reagan ridley x reader#robotus#alpha beta robotus#alpha beta x reader#robotus x reader#andre#andre lee#andre x reader#andre lee x reader#brett x reader#gigi x reader#brett hand
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Hello Questies!!
This post has been a long time coming, and here it finally is. Willow, and more importantly, the Willow Fandom, changed my life, so, thank you all for everything!
Now Presenting…
How to Get a Girlfriend by Watching Willow 2022:
Step 1. See gif of Kit on top of Jade when she was saying goodbye like on Pinterest.
Step 2. Figure out the name of the show with the hot girls.
Step 3. Rewatch the original Willow.
Step 4. Watch Willow 2022
Step 5. Realize that the feelings about other women that you have been suppressing since you were 17 are coming back to bite you in the ass.
Step 6. Reject compulsory heterosexuality.
Step 7. Call your best friend in a panic.
Step 8. Try for weeks to try to get anyone you know to watch Willow. Fail.
Step 9. Sign back into an old tumblr account and start following people just as obsessed as you are.
Step 10. Read horny fanfic. A LOT of hot horny fanfic.
Step 11. Get your best friend so fed up with you that she invited you to an LGBTQIA+ friendly community event more than an hour away just so she doesn’t have to be the only person hearing about Willow anymore.
Step 12. Make lifelong friends!!
Step 13. After several months of trying to convince people to watch Willow literally steal the TV hookup and force people to watch it.
Step 14. Share the link to the Free Willow website in the Facebook group chat so everyone can watch more episodes.
Step 15. Get private Facebook message from girl wanting to talk about Willow.
Step 16. Make friends with said girl and get a huge crush.
Step 17. Start hanging out outside of group events.
Step 18. Be awkward.
Step 19. Continue to be awkward for several months until one half of the friend group pulls you aside, and one half pulls her aside and endure an intervention.
Step 20. Ask girl on date. (She says yes!!)
Step 21. Go on date and realize that despite the fact that there are over 12 years of university between the two of you, that you both read dozens of the same articles on Reddit and Quora about how to act on a first date, since neither of you have had one before.
Step 22. Get mutually pissed off at the lack of official peer reviewed research on how to have a healthy relationship. Decide to work on writing and publishing together. (So far, the only thing actually peer reviewed is our relationship, which only started due to peer review.)
Step 23. Make plans for more dates.
Step 24. Be happy!!!
Step 25. Realize that communication is hard and misunderstandings suck after reading more horny Willow fanfic.
Step 26. Write 5 page love letter in proper MLA Epistle format and give to girl.
Step 27. Become official girlfriends!
Step 28. Receive photos of her extensive collection of swords and blades.
Step 28b. Implode. (Like seriously. It was SO hot.)
Step 29. After being girlfriends for two months, bring up Willow again and find out that she doesn’t actually care that much about Willow?!?!?!!!! She likes it but was mostly using it as an excuse to talk to you?!?
Step 30. Consider breaking up with girl (not really!!) because she isn’t actually as obsessed with Willow as you are.
Step 31. Decide to share your gratitude with the ongoing Willow fandom for changing your life instead of worrying about making everyone in your life love it as much as you do. 😂
————
Thanks to the creators who helped me work through the emotions of steps 5 and 6 and those who helped with steps 10 and 25. @ksfreckles @geek-and-nina @ourlonelymoon @commanderbuffy @acre-of-wheat @wigster07 @vetiverriver @barmaid-anon @swashbucklery @spybrarian @isabrella @lowkeyed1 @savewillow2022 and so many others!
While I’m at it: Thanks to @ourlonelymoon for reminding me I don’t have to earn help, @acre-of-wheat for helping me remember that being on the spectrum doesn’t make me unloveable (and for reminding me that letter writing is valid communication) @commanderbuffy for proving that love isn’t just for teenagers, @wigster07 for showing second chances and that character growth requires tons of hard work @geek-and-nina for perfectly portraying the emotions and joy of falling in love, and @ksfreckles for being the first person I talked to online and for writing the story that means everything to me.
Thank you Willow Fandom and Willow Creators! I do not know where I would be today if it wasn’t for my lovely, Willow-obsessed online community. 💕 ⚔️ 😉
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Day Twenty-Six - Prompt: Clean. @rosekiller-microfic
March Daily Series - 724 words
TW: Drunken nonsense
<<<Previous Part OR Start Here
Evan had to admit, Lily Evans was impressive. So impressive that he was considering stealing her from his sister. If only Pandora wasn’t threatening to garrote him in his sleep, he could finally find happiness.
“Be reasonable! If I marry Lily and take her name,” he insisted, patting Lily’s shoulder, “then I will be Evan Evans! We will have an amicable divorce and she can take your name!”
Pandora glared at him over her fourth martini. “Paws off my girlfriend!”
“Hold on, Lily Rosier has a nice ring to it,” Lily mused, her cheeks flushed.
They were potentially five rounds in actually, if he was counting glasses correctly. Evan couldn’t keep track. His mind was adrift in an ocean of whiskey sours.
“See? Lily is on my side!”
Pandora downed the rest of her drink, then hiccuped loudly as she pointed it at Evan. “Pardon me. You do not need to be involved! I can give her my name and you can go hump a log.”
“Hump a log?” Lily giggled.
“Then how do I become Evan Evans? You’re crushing my dreams, Panda!”
“Wait, you call her ‘Panda’ too? I thought that was Regulus’s thing?”
Evan scoffed, “No, no. He says it all sweet and gentle-like. Endearing? Is that it?”
Pandora nodded as she handed him another whiskey from the server. “Yes, endearing. You say it as a prerogative. No, that’s wrong.”
“Pejorative?” Lily guessed.
“That’s the cunt!” Evan cheered, clinking their glasses together. “It’s naughty!”
Pandora snorted martini out of her nose, then yelped at the burn of alcohol in her sinuses. It was shaping up to be a brilliant evening all around. He needed this more than he realised.
“Well, if I’m marrying Pandora for a last name upgrade,” Lily said, holding up a hand to stall his protest, “I think you should do the same for Barty. Poor bloke is carrying around ‘Crouch’ of all names. Seems a bit unfair.”
Evan’s mouth dropped open, but not a single word escaped it. The last thing he’d expected was for Lily to name drop Barty into this conversation. Perhaps, she wasn’t as impressive as he’d first thought.
Pandora choked on an olive and promptly coughed it up in her hand. “What?! Are you drunk?”
Lily glanced between them, then frowned at her empty glass. “Oh, yes. That’s possible.”
“Evan needs a clean slate. He’s staying away from that pickle,” Pandora insisted.
“Prick?” Evan suggested, brows knit together.
“Hard pass.”
Lily burst out laughing and covered her face with her hands. “I cannot breathe! You two are hilarious together.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Pandora teased, kissing her cheek. “Anywaffles, as I was saying.”
“Anywaffles?” Lily choked. She clung to the table’s edge in an attempt to stay on her stool as she swayed.
Pandora rolled her eyes affectionately and patted Lily’s cheek. “My darling, you are too easily amused. To my point, what was my point?”
“Barty.”
“Right, him. No Barty. Pick someone else, anyone else.”
Evan stared at his whiskey pensively. He wasn’t ready to concede defeat just yet, but it did feel rather inevitable. Perhaps, Barty knew it as well.
“What if I don’t want anyone else?” he said quietly. It was meant to be an internal thought, but it slipped free.
Pandora stared at him incredulously, then slapped the table. Several glasses clinked together. “He cheated! And lied!”
“That doesn’t mean he’s scum! People can change!”
Before his sister sniped back, Lily leaned over and kissed her. Pandora flailed, then flung herself into Lily’s lap. They both tumbled to the floor of the pub in a heap of loose limbs and giggles.
“Tease!” Pandora said, swatting Lily playfully.
“You’re so sweet! How can I resist?”
Evan watched the couple’s banter wistfully. He’d had nights like this with Barty. Nights when they’d laughed until they couldn’t breathe. Other nights, they’d stay up until dawn talking about everything and nothing.
He propped his chin in his hand and swirled the gold liquid in his glass. Barty made every night they were together feel special. Like he said, he tried with Evan. That was more than anyone else had.
What if he has changed? What if I was right?
Wales. That was the exception that proved the rule.
Or, it was proof that Barty was a better person when they were together. Perhaps, I am too.
Next Part>>>
#barty crouch jr x evan rosier#evan x barty#barty x evan#barty crouch junior#barty crouch jr#barty jr#evan rosier#marauders era#slytherin skittles#rosekiller microfic#rosekiller#pandora rosier#lily evans
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Kira’s Way.
Thinking of an AU where Kira wins and finally employs underlings into his ever-growing business of private investigators and detectives out to track criminal activity all over Japan. After putting an end to the lives of officers and literally anyone who dared oppose his rule, he saw potential in you after proving yourself worthy of working under him. However, there are plenty of consequences of becoming Kira’s favorite.
You were promised a life of luxury and security considering you were in safe hands. After all, you were deemed special in the eyes of an infamous, yet feared figure in all of Japan — someone capable of killing whoever was deemed a threat to his sense of right and wrong. Ever since Light Yagami admitted to becoming Kira, the warmth and affection he expressed back in the day were now rendered nonexistent. “He used to be so innocent,” you thought, stealing a glance off of his figure who was working on his desk.
The man didn’t even come from an abusive or troublesome childhood. In fact, he was raised as a typical, yet idealistic son with a bright future. A soft, heavenly figure he was. Being from a middle-class household who lived harmoniously was quite an understatement to describe his life.
Often perceived as a genius in his own right, you admired him from the outside and looked up to him. Up until you were looking up at him…..literally.
Although he was admittingly friendly and reassuring towards the new employees, it was only you who saw a darker version of him — one you can’t escape despite your attempts to break free from his touch. What you saw was no longer the Light Yagami you knew whenever he was in……that kind of mood. No, he wasn’t pissed off, and he surely wasn’t angry at you. Honestly, it was the opposite.
What you saw was a predatory gaze looming over you, one that fell short of a reputable, charismatic leader. He was no longer the family’s treasured son who happened to be a role model of any kind, but someone with dangerous intentions. Someone who had other…..motives for you. Though he tried to repress his desires to take control for months, his red, glowing eyes never lied.
The next thing you knew, Kira grabbed a fistful of your hair’s roots, slowly pushing your head down as it sank into him inch by inch. All he could rejoice about in that moment was face-fucking you in all angles as you could only look up at him. He wasn’t even doing this to please you, but rather, to please only himself. In fact, he’s grown far too self-absorbed to think of pleasing you.
Your tongue rested on the surface of his throbbing length as the friction decreased, making your head bob up and down in a sloppier fashion. You thought the idea was disgusting, humiliating, even. But doing the deed itself made you feel something different, an urge of wanting to serve a higher power hit you right as you were fucked in the mouth. And this wasn’t the first time you experienced this. You were always the type to reject Kira’s advances, but this newfound feeling always crept up onto your mind.
And in that office was where you let your intrusive thoughts win.
Kira groaned in pleasure out of you milking the fuck out of him, his cock growing more needy as the clock ticked. All he wanted was to have you desperate for his attention, and what was better than hosting an under-the-desk service for you.
“There, there,” he chuckled condescendingly. “Suck me off like your life depends on it. Nice and slow.”
Trying not to release a sputtering gag, you complied with his demands.
Who knew getting a raise meant having to please your superior in office? Or better yet, having to please God?
#x reader#death note x reader#light yagami x reader#kira x reader#yagami light x reader#yagami light#imagines#death note imagines#light yagami x y/n#light yagami x you
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Main Masterlist
Welcome! My name is Lauren. I am 23, use she/her pronouns, and am a fanfiction writer as well as a self-admitted film snob. I write OC x Canon fanfiction, mostly for Cillian Murphy characters.
18+ ONLY. Minors do not interact.
I cross-post all of my fics onto Archive of Our Own.
Most of my work deals with mature themes, so please take care to read the corresponding warnings listed in the notes of each individual fic. Your content consumption is your own responsibility. If I ever fail to include a specific warning in the notes, please feel free to kindly leave me an ask or message letting me know.
I have tag lists for all of my fics. If you would like to be added to any of these lists, please send me a comment, ask, or message, and specify which fics you would like to be tagged in. You are welcome to ask to be tagged in everything, or you can pick from any of the fics listed down below.
I do not consent to my work being copied or translated to any other platforms or by any other accounts that are not my own.
I am always happy to chat, so please feel free to send me an ask or DM anytime! Mutuals are welcome to ask for my Discord!
Dunkirk
Cold Waters & Sunlit Gardens
When she decides to accompany the Dawsons on their voyage to help during the evacuation of Dunkirk, Daisy Preston has little idea of what she is actually getting herself into. All she knows is that there's tea, the roar of planes overhead, and the blue eyes of the handsome, shivering soldier they just rescued from a shipwreck staring at her from across the deck.
In Time
The Shackles of Broken Time
Trapped in poverty and forced to contribute to a cause she doesn't actually believe in, Rose Mason keeps her mind focused on simply surviving day to day. Until a few reckless actions catch her the attention of Timekeeper Raymond Leon; the last person anyone would want to have as an enemy.
Inception
Hiding Here Inside a Dream
Alice Emerson has known Robert Fischer since they were four years old. Instant best friends, they were near inseparable until the meddling of an abusive father drove them apart. But perhaps they can find their way back to one another. And maybe, finally, admit that they've been in love with each other all this time.
Peaky Blinders
Love Me Where I'm Most Ruined (In Progress)
They call him the Devil. They tell her to stay clear of him. They warn her that he'll steal her soul. But Lucy Winters came to Small Health fleeing monsters and unspeakable trauma. And her soul seems but a small price to pay in exchange for the things that Tommy Shelby has to offer her.
Nocturnal Me
There’s something sitting on the edge of the bed, and it wants her husband.
The Dark Knight Trilogy
The Shadow Game
Broken, traumatized, and more than a little insane, Vanessa Sullivan and Jonathan Crane's childhoods were steeped in horror and loneliness. But when they are assigned as lab partners during their time in college, they realize that they may not be as alone in their madness as they'd both originally thought.
Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!
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Can I get Lorgar being grumpy cause he's away from his lover for too long during a campaign, and when he gets back, he just scoops her up and steals her away with orders not to be bothered?
[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]
Author's Note: Oh sweet, another chance for me to go absolutely fucking apeshit about Lorgar. This fic I wrote sortof as a soft continuation of this little universe I've been building with Lorgar. But can also be read totally independent. Hope this is acceptable <3
Relationships: Lorgar/Fem!Reader (no pronouns are used it's just kinda the vibe if that makes sense)
Warnings: Lorgar's toxic mercurial attitude, but other than that pretty warning free considering it's Warhammer 40k content
Word Count: 1177
The Astartes of the Word Bearers are used to the emotional volatility of their Primarch. However it seems that an extended period of time aboard the Fidelitas Lex with no reprieve has irritated the Primarch more so than usual, however for reasons that remain a mystery to them.
The only thing that manages to quell it even somewhat is Colchis in view from the bridge of the gargantuan battleship- and that, for the time being, their conquest halts.
Lorgar often writes during these times apart, putting his written thoughts to parchment about his ideas, his successes and failures during the crusade; How he misses you.
This time as he was far from Colchis for so long, and since Lorgar had been growing frustrated and writing is soothing to him, the pile is significant. He seems to treat them almost like a journal of sorts, spouting fears and irritations that he's held deep within himself. His anger oftentimes boils over so much so that it even seems to bleed into the very paper he's writing on, during.
Now it bleeds out of him, and everyone close enough to pays by his person feels it and keeps their distance. He walks with purpose, outpacing almost anyone around him. He's already removed his armor in the chambers dedicated for it, where it hangs prepared for the next time he must don it.
For now, it is nothing but an inconvenience. He's pleased to get it off, to feel air on his skin. The fabric of his robes is far more comfortable as he's now in the refuge of his own fortress.
And now that he is here, off of the Fidelitas Lex and no longer so long away from what he wants most, he has a singular goal currently in mind.
The Astartes standing guard at the entrance to the private wing tilt their helmets ever so slightly upward, when Lorgar stops directly between them. They had already given him a soft lilt of acknowledgement, expecting him to simply pass by. When he speaks he still looks forward, hands gripping eachother tight.
"Do not disturb me unless it is of the utmost urgency."
His tone, the way the words slip between his teeth like a hiss, leaves no room for argument; Not as if they were going to in the first place. They nod in understanding and Lorgar passes by fully, the fabrics of his robes shifting against each other.
You live in this wing now, and Lorgar secretly delights in the feeling of knowing you will always be waiting for him here.
He doesn't have to search for you, to call you like a common servant; You are now treated with the luxuries he thinks you deserve.
He swears his heart picks up pace the closer he gets. It has been so unbearably long since he's seen your face, heard your voice, felt your skin. Even the feeling of simply holding your tiny hand in his feels like an indulgence after so long apart.
His palm brushes against the handle to the door leading into his bed chambers. You're more than likely here, making use of the massive bookshelves that store his personal favorite texts.
And indeed you are; As when he opens the massive door made to fit a man of his size, you're spotted sitting on the similarly massive bed flipping through the pages of an old tome. The way you perk up and gasp in pure surprise has the Primarch preening.
"Lorgar!"
You treat the tome with a level of care, closing it and sitting it aside- but you do so with a rush as you quickly get to your feet and run right to him. He easily picks you up in his hands, raising you up to his level. Your lips are against his in moments, arms around his neck. There's so many emotions in it; Happiness, desperation, longing. Only when you pull away does the Primarch sit you down, before then kneeling down to your level instead. It's easier for him to do so instead of dangling you in the air. In spite of how one might think someone such as him should never kneel. He has never bemoaned his size, at least out loud, but perhaps at times he can realize its, inconvenience.
"It's been so long this time, you're back!"
He delights in the feeling of your warm skin against his, free of his armor for the time being.
"It has. I hope you'll forgive my absence."
He always placates you, even though he has no reason to. You know why he's gone, the things he says he needs to do. It's simply selfishness that keeps you wanting. Not that he doesn't think similarly, stuck in the ebb and flow of a crusade that intends to take all of him. He wants more than just conquest, no matter how much everyone says that should be enough.
"I just miss you. It's always so lonely without you here."
Lorgar wonders if everyone thinks of their lover so much, or if he is simply a minority. He wonders if he you think of him as much as he does you.
Kor Phaeron has acquiesced on the matter mostly, either way. There are times where he attempts to 'right' Lorgar, but they are largely unproductive. If anything, it seems to send him into your arms faster. It'll pass, is what conversations on the matter usually end with. That Lorgar is nearly tasting a fit of indulgence.
Your hands on his collarbone, you look at the wear on his face and gently smile.
"You should rest, Lorgar."
He leans, his lips pressing against the top of your head.
"Then I would have wasted time I could spend in your company asleep." He hears your soft laugh, leaning away from him and smiling.
"It's still technically spending time together."
Only you can get away with talking back to him in such a way, as you say it with only fondness and a bit of teasing.
"Yes, but I wish to enjoy it," He continues. "I ordered my men to not disturb me unless it was urgent, and I intend to take advantage of that time without a million voices in my ear."
His hands rest on your waist, hands swallowing your form and bunching the fabric of your clothes. Even him, one of the smaller of the Primarchs, is so overwhelmingly massive. They lay with a gentle weight, at the moment. Yours lay on his collarbone, fingertips just past the edge of his robes and brushing against his tanned skin.
"And what is Lorgar Aurelian going to do with his rare moment of peace?"
You think someone might be walking past the door that you can't hear, as Lorgar briefly turns his head ever so slightly at a potential sound you can't hear. His hands tighten on your waist slightly. When this presumed person doesn't knock on the door like he might've thought, he turns back to you, hands loose again.
"I quite intend to find out."
#lorgar x reader#primarch x reader#warhammer 40k x reader#Lorgar/Reader#reader insert#reader#mywriting
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