#I actually haven't drawn him in SO long god | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

primrosebow · 1 year ago

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YES PLEASE, part 2 😻 I would also LOVE to see his legs spread for us... Or maybe we forcefully spread them :3 either way I love you're art it's so hot, Lucifer's so hot. Just NEED to manhandle him 😞

-💌 anon (idk if that's been used, if so then 🐕 anon)

AH! MY KNIGHT! YOU WILL BE REWARDED HANDSOMELY FOR YOUR COURAGE IN STEPPING INTO MY INBOX!

_-->Lucifer x reader // pt 2🍎

!content warnings!: nsfw, edging (AAAHAHAHAA!!!! THE FIRST KINK NAME THAT I ACTUALLY FIGURED OUT! it's pretty self explanatory, but I'm proud of me so shut) probably other kinks but, again, nun. andddd a wee lil more writing compared to my other posts

Shoutout to 💌 anon‼️‼️

The air is thick with tension as lucifer catches his breath, tears running down his now hot face. He's completly oblivious to the atmosphere, however- he's too deep in pleasure to even realize what he'd just done.

You had explicitly told him not to cum, going as far as edging him for the last few minutes, but, of course he couldn't keep it down, in the same way he hadn't lowered his teasing, which was the exact behavior that had gotten him into this predicament. You see; Lucifer is honestly one of the best you could have ever dreamt for, wealthy, stunningly gorgeous, funny, patient- wait. Scratch that last part. He's not patient at all. When he wants something, he'll do whatever it takes to get it. And that time, it was to get you to have him as you pleased.

You honestly didn't know what had gotten into him, he'd been teasing you for the last several days with no signs of giving up -what was his goal with this?- you thought, whenever he'd litter kisses along your neck and imediatelly turn around and speed off to do god knows what. Whenever he'd lay on your lap and arch into you, displaying his body for you, only to turn around and act like nothing happened within a split second, even touching your sensitive spots and acting oblivious. Whenever- actually, you could go on all day long. And right now, he'd finally realized what he did.

His expression flows from one of relief into one of guilt. He turns his head from you, snapping his eyes down to your hand over his still painfully hard dick before dragging them back up when the sight alone had made him twitch in your hands.

His thighs had been strongly pressed against your arm before you used your other hand to make Lucifer look at you. He looked frustrated, ashamed, confused- why all of that? Because this wasn't the outcome he expected. He thought you'd have your way with him, bend him over the nearest flat surface and fuck him out of his mind, he thought you'd overstimulate him until he couldn't think of another thing other than the sting of his drawn out pleasure, thought you'd be rough with him.

But no, you were gentle.

With your actions, at least. Your words were pure venom. "You want to get treated like some desperate slut, huh?" "You look down on those sinners but you're no fucking better." "You're already drooling? My god you're pathetic." "You haven't earned my touch- much less the right to cum. You've been nothing but an inconvenience, you're lucky I'm even doing this" as you so gently jerked him off with the most delicate touches, holding his hand, ghosting your lips over his neck and moved the hair out of his face. The juxtaposition from the two extremes of your words and actions drove him insane- he just couldn't deal with it, you were tearing down his whole being by the second- and eventually, he couldn't hold himself anymore.

You don't spare him a word as you push his legs apart and watch them tremble to stay open for you as rushed apologies and poor excuses left his mouth. Before he could continue with his apologies, you roughly rub your fingers over his tip, earning a broken, fucked out moan from him, his tail a dead giveaway of his enjoyment of the new treatment.

"Is this what you wanted?" Was your unamused response. You kept going at the much rougher pace you had just now set, his eyes fought to remain open as more tears flow out of his red, glowing eyes; he wasn't prepared for such intensity after what you had put him through "aah- mh- w-wait -oh goodness- please! Have mercy!" His pleading falls on deaf ears as you continue at your current movement. The king of hell had his pride completly broken, and you weren't even close to being done with him.

Ah, seems like the two of you have a long night ahead of you

I just found out about weevils I am not the same woman I was 10 minutes ago. I love these stupid little guys. I love them so much. I love weevils.

Sorry for dying I'm back tho with like a truckload of stuff in mind to tell yall abt. Also I don't proofread or anything this is like as raw as it gets.

Ermm @ ing @bigfatbimbo because this mf into lucifer FOR REAL💪💪

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #💌 anon＼(^^)／#gee golly #I could go for some guaraná right now #whatevzzzz.... it is what it is #here's the slop for 2nite guyze

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ghostgirl-22 · 1 month ago

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I haven't been active in the tumblr fanfic scene since I was writing hard kink kpop x reader at 18, but by golly. Challengers Fandom...hats off from an old, tired queer (22)

Anyway, I've been an onlooker for some time and I love your account; it gives me a lot to think about on the commute to work. Love your characterization of all of our beloved trio and then some.

But now I propose a more lived in kinky bunch. I've worked a few BDSM raves in my time, and I saw this trio of guys once with the pup in his mask.

He was so sweet and nuzzly. (Loved giving messy head and being called a dumb boy) Just reminded me so much of Art. He was a large man in general, but he made himself so small for play.

Wait… i just woke up and wrote this long ass story and then realized after all that…that sadly…I don’t think I can really write bdsm. Oh well… sorry anon this is as good as it gets. Here’s Tashi kinda being in charge of everything and Art as a bratty messy sub with Patrick switching in the middle. I got bored rereading (glowing recommendation I know) so if you see typos/issues lemme know and I’ll fix them 😭

CW: 18+ NSFW EXPLICIT, sex club, public sex, exhibitionism, group sex, blindfolds, safe sex

____

They don’t have to go out but since Lily is at grandma and grandpa Donaldson’s all week and sometimes they like to play with other people. Or let Art play with other people. They decide to go to the club. It was Tashi’s idea. They’re so grown up now, they go to sex clubs. They have a safe word and everything. Cinnamon. Patrick’s amused by how quickly it all happened. It still doesn’t actually feel real. Just a year ago he was in an on again off again relationship with less than 100 dollars in his account on his best days. And he was bumming it on his sisters sofa when he wasn’t on the road. And look at him now. He has a boyfriend, a girlfriend and a safe word.

He looks around, it’s loud and hot and sweaty despite the below zero temperatures outside. The coldest day of the year. The first floor is all dancing, drinks, and house music. No sex. It’s so upscale you wouldn’t know what went on downstairs if you were an outsider. It’s pricey, extremely private and so exclusive there’s a waitlist to get in. A medical check, a background check, even. Patrick almost didn’t get in because of his credit score. But being the Donaldson’s pet which is what the manager called him, made all the difference. Even after all of that, they have to check everything, even their phones. It’s a shame, because sometimes Patrick does want to film it… not to sell to the highest bidder but just to watch when he’s home alone and horny.

Tashi wraps her arms around his waist. She feels so warm, the fabric of her dress so slippery, Patrick can’t help but let his hands slide down her back to rest on her ass. “Are you looking at other girls?” She asks in his ear.

”Are you kidding?” Patrick smirks. “I’m just looking at your husband.” She follows his gaze to Art. Art, who said ten minutes ago that if they were gonna do this again he needed a drink. He’s standing by the bar, in this mesh shirt Tashi no doubt bought for him and fitted pants. Already there’s a tall guy leaning in next to him, reaching up to touch mess up his hair. Another guy walks up behind him touching his waist.

“God. He’s so...” Tashi sighs.

It was Tashi’s idea, all of it. “He just never got his time to be out before. To be boy crazy. He’s a late bloomer. I mean…You’re his first time… ” Tashi had explained. “Imagine how you would act.”

She said it after Art finally let Patrick do more than just kiss him. They finally fucked and it was this long drawn out messy process on a rainy afternoon. Art figuring out what he liked, topping and being topped, giving and getting head all of it so fucking hot. And then a week later Art went and slept with his old hitting partner. Apparently the guy had been so flirtatious when he worked for them that Art was having dreams about him so in the most Art Donaldson way he hid behind Tashi and begged her to make up an excuse to fire him.

He was so sorry when Patrick caught him. “It was an accident. It won’t happen again.” He promised. And then he did it again just two days later. Boy crazy.

“I’m gonna pick tonight. Do you care?” Tashi asks.

”No, go ahead,” Patrick says. “Better hurry though.”

She’s half distracted by some pretty girl with long braids giving her heart eyes.

“Maybe you’re a late bloomer too?” Patrick teases, curling a lose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Shush,” Tashi says, shoving him playfully. “Bring him downstairs. Room 8. I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Wait a minute,” He grabs her arm firmly before she can disappear and pulls her close so he can kiss her mouth. It’s the only public place he can do this and he’s taking full advantage.

He watches her walk away and then looks back at the bar. Art’s holding a drink now, both of the guys monopolizing his attention. Gentle touches, talking to him up close. Patrick starts making his way through the crowd. It’s not like Art will just do whatever he wants but sometimes he gets a little too high off of the attention. Like he finally understands how easy it is to get male attention and how much he loves it. Even though he tries to pretend he doesn’t care. He got so horny for it last time they caught him on his knees in the back room, giving head without permission. They had to punish him after. Well, Tashi punished him actually. Patrick’s not good at it. Art will play like Patrick has control but with that face and that body he can walk all over Patrick easily when he feels like it.

Patrick is stopped on his way by a pretty blond. She seems a little past the point of tipsy.

“Hey aren’t you that Rangers player?” She asks, she’s giggly. Touchy.

“Yeah,” He says, steadying her. He doesn’t play hockey but he thinks he knows what she means.

“I think you’re so hot,” she says, and she giggles again as he smirks and brushes past her.

“I can’t tonight sweetheart.” He says gently and she pouts. She’s exactly the kind of girl who wouldn’t have given him the time of day just a few months ago. Now that he’s not looking it’s hilarious how much he has to turn down.

Speaking of slutty blonds, he approaches Art in the nick of time. He’s started making out with one boy, while the other is holding his drink.

“This his?” Patrick asks the guy with the drink and he nods, looking Patrick over. Patrick takes the glass from him and swallows the rest of it, all while Art’s pressing his tongue down the other man’s throat. He slams the glass down on the bar and grabs Art by the arm. Art stumbles back, lips wet, eyes glassy. Confused to see Patrick there. “Hey. Um…sorry I had to wait forever for a drink,” he hiccups, sheepishly.

“I bet,” Patrick says, fixing his hair and pulling his shirt back down so his mid drift his covered. Tashi put him in eyeliner and it’s all smudged now. Silly boy. Hes so fucking handsome. No way around it. He grew up pretty. And now he’s a tennis superstar. Not that he even needs that to get this type of attention.

“Who’s he?” Art’s kissing partner asks.

“My um…this is… I don’t know… my boyfriend?” Art says, looking at Patrick, his eyes all sparkly.

“Hey boyfriend, I’m Jack and that’s my boyfriend. Kissing partner gestures to the guy who was holding Arts drink. “You all wanna go downstairs and have some fun?”

“Yeah,” Art says and Patrick wraps his arm around his waist to keep him from going back for another kiss.

“Sorry Jack, maybe next time,” Patrick says.

Jack looks irritated, he glares at Patrick and then turns his gaze back to Art. “Is that what you want?”

“Yeah,” Art says, obediently.

“Fine, hope you enjoyed the drink,” Jack frowns, walking off with his boyfriend in tow.

“I swear I didn’t ask him to buy it,” Art says, looking at Patrick.

“Oh I know,” Patrick says. “You want another?”

Art nods, and Patrick waves at the bartender. Art’s anxiously chewing his gum, one hand gripping Patrick’s t-shirt like he needs him. Patrick imagines him in a collar. On his knees like a giddy little puppy dog. Eager to do whatever he and Tashi ask and he has to reach into his pocket to adjust himself. The bartender approaches and smiles at Art, clearly she knows who he is. She looks too young to be a bartender but she leans in when Patrick asks for two more whiskey sours. He knows Tashi will just drink whatever he brings so he doesn’t bother with another drink.

“I love you guys,” the bartender comes back around and pushes the drinks forward. “It’s on the house.”

Patrick raises his glass to her and she smiles but it’s clear she’s got eyes for Art who’s busy saying “Thank you so much!”

Patrick tugs at him and guides him downstairs. He’s getting attention as they walk through the crowd, eyes follow him, people reaching for him, touching him. Boys, girls, younger, older, same age, it doesn’t seem to matter. The funniest part is that he’s hardly the most famous person there. But it’s all so hush hush. And absolutely fucking anything goes.

Downstairs the lights are down so low, your eyes have to adjust to realize what’s happening. There’s a general area where there are people in the various stages of intercourse. People who like to watch, self-pleasuring. People in different positions, gay, straight, threesomes, foursomes, swingers. On chairs and sofas, on the floor, Patrick can only compare it to a bath house or the backroom at a really popular gay club, so much moaning and groaning writhing. Art lingers, watching as he sips his drink and Patrick lets him for a moment, before pulling him towards room number 8. He presses his wristband against the scanner and it unlocks for them.

When the door closes Art is suddenly giddy, he leans against the door gazing at Patrick.

”You remember the safeword?” Patrick says softly.

”Cinnamon,” Art says and he leans in, kissing him.

“Stop,” Patrick says, taking a breath and pushing him back against the door. Patrick feels a little dizzy but he manages to pull Art towards the leather sofa. The private room is fully stocked with snacks, water and champagne. There’s tons of condoms organized by size and six different flavors of packet sized lube. There are mints and chewing gum. There’s even wet wipes and hand sanitizer. Art puts his glass down on the table.

“Can you fuck me first?” Art whispers, sitting too close, grabbing at Patrick’s zipper.

“You want to get in trouble?” Patrick says, softly.

“Why? Are you gonna tell on me?” Art smirks.

Patrick is so fucking weak for shit like this, especially when he’s been at least half hard since they walked in the club. Since Tashi brought up going to the club in the first place, actually. “Fucking behave,” Patrick groans, pushing Art’s hands away. He needs Tashi to show up now or he knows he’s gonna end up doing whatever Art asks him to. He swallows down what’s left of his whiskey and puts his glass down. Art is so antsy he’s running his mouth talking about last time, how he’d been between two boys, getting fucked while he was fucking someone else. He really liked that. Tashi liked it too. She made them replay it at home, she pegged him while he fucked Patrick. And then Patrick laid down between her legs and kissed her until she cried.

The memories along with soft sound of Art’s voice as he rambles incessantly is setting Patrick’s teeth on edge, he’s this close to making Art cock warm him if only just to shut him up.

Thankfully Tashi doesn’t make them wait too much longer. The electronic whir of the lock sounds and she walks in with two guys, one tall and thin with longer dark hair and the other one her height when she’s in heels, he’s stocky and muscular. “Did you miss me?” She asks.

“Yeah,” Art sits up eagerly.

“Fuck. He looks even better in person,” long dark hair says.

“Doesn’t he?” Tashi approaches them. She climbs on the sofa, straddling Art’s lap and settles there. He looks up at her like she’s a real life angel and he needs to pray. “Hi baby.” He whispers. Hands sliding up her thighs, making her dress ride up. Patrick shifts in his seat. One of the guys nudges the other and they both smile.

“Hi,” Tashi says, fingers on the back of his head. “We’re gonna play a little game okay?”

Art bites his lip and nods.

“I need you to say it out loud,” Tashi says, firmly. Like she’s talking to one of the many people she works with to manage Art’s career.

“Okay,” Art says. She glances at Patrick, a little smirk on her lips and then looks back at Art.

“Okay,” she says, gentle again. “That’s Zach,” she points to the tall long haired one. And that’s Kevin. You guys know of Art and Patrick.”

”Oh yes,” Kevin says and Zach echoes, “Mmhm.”

“Good,” she says. She pulls down her hair, most of it was tied off with a silk scarf, now her curls fall onto her shoulders. She takes the scarf and uses it as a blindfold, covering Art’s eyes.

“Tash— um—“ Art stammers.

“Relax, it’s part of the game.” She says lightly. “Can you see me?”

“No, um…”

She waves her hands in front of him quite close and when he doesn’t react she smiles. “Good. Since you like it so much, you’re gonna give each of them a blow job. Zach, Kevin and Patrick.”

“Mm,” Art licks his lips.

“If you can get them all off in less than 8 minutes, you get to come tonight. If you can guess which one is Patrick, I’ll let him get you off before we leave this room. You can’t use your hands but everything else is fair game. They’re each gonna be as quiet as possible,” she says looking around. “But if you can figure it out by their breathing or something else that’s fine.”

“Okay,” Art says, hitching his hips up into her.

“Last thing… obviously your mouth will be too busy for the safe word. I’m keeping my arm right here. She rests it on his upper thigh. If you need to stop pinch me. I’ll stop it no matter how light or hard you squeeze so don’t pinch unless that’s what you mean.”

“Okay,” Art hums.

She climbs off his lap and he’s already hard. She smiles and holds her finger to her lips looking around the room. Then she holds up two fingers and points at Patrick. Three fingers and she points at Zach. She holds up one finger and points at Kevin beckoning him over and he comes eagerly. She gestures for Patrick to get off the sofa. He takes a breath and stands up. Kevin smirks at him rubbing his cock as he walks forward. Art’s rubbing the leather sofa eagerly. Tashi settles next to him and rests her hand on his lap, he wraps his hand around her to keep her there.

“Okay number one,” Tashi says as Kevin approaches. She hands him a condom and he frowns but pulls it on anyway.

“Do I open?” Art asks.

”One second,” Tashi says quietly. Kevin lets out an irritated breath and then presses himself up against Art’s lips. Art opens up right away.

“Time starts now,” Tashi says, looking at the digital clock on the wall. He’s licking all over, like he’s trying to figure out how big he is. How thick. Playing his tongue along the length and diameter. He’s not much smaller than Patrick. It’s a good healthy sized, circumcised dick. Art licks his way down the shaft and back up again. He’s orally fixated in the worst way so he doesn’t waste too much time before taking it properly into his mouth. Kevin bites his lip and runs his fingers into Art’s hair. Tashi hits his arm.

“No touching,” she says.

Art hums, lips stretched around his dick, Patrick adjusts himself and lets out a sigh. Tashi smirks at him. Grabs at the loops of his pants and brings him closer. Which is so tempting because Patrick is also eager to run his fingers through Art’s hair, call him a good boy for taking it so well. Art is breathing heavy, getting sloppy and wet with it. Tongue moving, head bobbing. Filthy sucking sounds as he works on getting him to come. All while Kevin has his fingers balled into fists and he’s all seized up.

Behind him, Patrick catches Zach touching himself idly.

Art is humming pretty consistently now, he’s so hard from this, to the point where Patrick can see the damp spot where precum is starting to stain his pants a darker shade.

Tashi is taking deep breaths. “Oh baby. Oh it hasn’t even been two minutes. Fuck.” She whispers. As Kevin makes a strangled sound and starts pumping his hips. He’s breathing heavy when he’s done, Art still sucking on him like he can’t stop. But Kevin pulls out, condom wet and shiny with saliva and full of semen. Tashi’s gripping Art’s thigh.

“Tashi I’m—“ Art sighs breathless. “I can’t touch myself?”

“No baby,” Tashi says gently. “Okay number two,” she whispers.

Patrick unzips and takes himself in hand. He’s about to wet Art’s lips with precum but Tashi hands him a condom too. Which makes perfect sense. He bites it open and eases it on. It’s a fun little game. Cute idea. But Patrick really wants to fuck him so already he’s made up his mind to give himself away somehow. Art’s lips are all swollen and pink. He starts by licking again. Such a smart boy. Up and down the length and all over to gage the width. It feels so good, especially when he gets to the tip.

Patrick makes a soft sound and Tashi kicks him so he bites his lip.

“Mm,” Art takes him in, breathing deep. Mouth so deliciously hot and wet. And he’s racing his tongue back and forth. Sucking hard. Moaning as he does it. Patrick can’t help himself, he’s pushing back on him. Feeding every inch that he can into that perfect heated mouth. He likes to test his gag reflex when they do this. See how much Art can take. Face going pink, lips swollen red. Coughing up while come drips obscenely from his lips. He starts coughing and Tashi kicks him again. That doesn’t stop Art for long. He’s taking as much as he can, filling his mouth again. Trying so hard not to gag for it and Patrick can’t believe he’s already this near to the edge. There’s something so hot about being this fucking desperate and holding it all in. This erotic silence. Just the constant rhythmic beat of the club's music and Tashi bouncing her knee. Art humming, moaning.

Kevin sighs and that’s the moment Patrick remembers he’s still in the room. Art’s teasing his tongue on the underside of his cock head which feels incredible even through the thin layer of latex. Art flitting it back and forth in this spectacular dance that with every movement brings Patrick closer. He thrusts in and out and in and out and— “Fuck,” Patrick says helplessly and then he’s filling the condom.

Patrick fixates on the wetness of it as he pulls out. The condom soaked in saliva. More of it dripping from Art’s lips. Art is breathless. “What if I come by— by accident?” Art says, gasping.

“You won’t, baby,” Tashi says softly. “Come on number three.”

Zach picks up a condom.

“How much time?” Art asks.

“You’re doing so good,” Tashi says. “About 3 minutes left.”

Art licks his lips. He doesn’t really test Zach out. Just takes it into his mouth. Zach is bigger than Patrick in girth, a little shorter in length. Circumcised of course. Patrick watches Art stretch his lips around him easy. Zach doesn’t really stand a fucking chance. He’d been so worked up watching Art blow Kevin and himself, Art manages to finish him off in 90 seconds. The whole time Patrick can feel the distant hint of arousal coming back and settling low in his stomach. Art’s still blindfolded, he’s sitting there rubbing his thighs eagerly as Zach pinches the condom off and throws it away.

“Did I do it?” Art asks.

“Yes. Good job, baby,” Tashi sighs. “I’ll let you come tonight. Now take your best guess. Which one was Patrick? One, two or three?”

“Mm two,” Art says, little to no hesitation.

”Hmm,” Tashi says, glaring briefly at Patrick. She then looks to the other two. “Thanks for playing boys.”

“Any fucking time,” Zach says. “That was fun.”

“I’m clean by the way, in case you want to do it without a condom next time,” Kevin says.

“If you want a next time you’ll have to wear one. No exceptions. Sorry,” Tashi says lightly.

“Yeah, okay… just feels so much better without it. What’s the point of the constant tests if we always have to wear condoms right?” Kevin says condescendingly like Tashi is a silly girl who just doesn’t get it.

“Well you’re fucking welcome to play with someone else next time then,” Patrick says coldly. “Goodnight.”

Kevin glares at him and then follows Zach out of the private room.

“You’re a fucking cheater, Pat,” Tashi turns on him when the door shuts. She pulls off the blindfold.

“I didn’t cheat.” Patrick says. ”I followed all of your instructions, to the letter.”

Art is flushed, eyes glassy, lips red and swollen. Patrick can’t help doing what he couldn’t before and teasing his fingers into Art’s hair. He keens into the touch. So hard, he’s almost tenting in the tough fabric of his jeans.

“How’d you know it was him?” Tashi asks Art, her tone gentle with him.

“I—I know how he feels.” Art says. “The other two felt… different. Plus I could smell him. It made me want to touch.”

”Mm fine, I guess I tried to get as close as I could.” Tashi says. “Next time I’m giving you fucking five minutes to finish it all.” She smirks.

Art grins and she leans in and kisses him.

He’s seeking her body immediately grabbing at her dress, she pushes him off.

“Behave. Get on the floor like a good boy,” Tashi tells him and Art slides off the sofa to get on his knees. Patrick can tell she’s barely hanging by a thread. Her body is trembling for it.

She scoots forward, legs spread and Art barely wastes a second before he’s on his hands and knees, head buried between her thighs. Tashi is gazing up at Patrick, smiling before she lets out another sigh. Patrick feels himself getting hard again, arousal back in full force.

“Show Patrick how needy you are,” Tashi groans. Art is bent over, ass sticking out, mesh shirt riding up, moaning almost as much as she is and he reaches to undo his jeans.

Patrick sinks to his knees behind him and tugs the jeans down to expose his ass, all while reaching for a packet of lubricant from the table. It takes him no time at all to sink himself into the heat of Art’s body. And then they’re all moaning. It feels like nirvana. Patrick can’t focus on anything but this. Obsessed with the idea that he can have this all the fucking time. The therapist says they can’t fuck away their problems but Patrick would argue this makes him work so much harder at therapy… just so they can keep doing this shit. Tashi comes first, Patrick knows her tells. He reaches for Art’s cock, knows he can’t really come without stimulation. And all it takes is two strokes and he’s clenching around Patrick. Heated liquid spurting all over the place, spilling onto Patrick’s hand. Patrick fucks him into overstimulation before he’s coming inside. And then they’re all breathless, giddy and so satisfied.

They lay in the room for a little bit longer after redressing and cleaning up a bit. Art chews gum and rests his head on Tashi’s lap while Tashi and Patrick are share one of the snacks. They talk about what just happened. Art back to his normal more centered self and Patrick admits to his fantasy about putting a collar on Art next time. And the way they both suddenly go silent, both of them fidgety, lets Patrick know they’re into it.

They head upstairs so the space can be used by someone else and pick up their coats and phones from the check in. They wait for an uber. People passing by in a rush to get out of the cold. Kids hurrying in and out of other less exclusive clubs nearby. No one but other people exiting the club aware of what really goes on in there, or of what they’ve just been up to. Patrick smiles to himself, he already can’t wait to go back.

Not to superwholock on main but if anyone likes Sherlock I encourage you to read the much better fic a cure for boredom on AO3 from which I blatantly stole the cinnamon safeword and got influenced by the sex club. That and someone said Mike Faist smells like cinnamon… 🤤

#challengers fic #challengers smut #tashi duncan smut #patrick zweig smut #art donaldson smut

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aethes-bookshelf · 9 months ago

Text

a taste this bitter || solas/inquisitor

Something possessed me to write this. Gods above, I don't know what it was, but I pumped this out in an hour. I haven't written fic since February, I can't believe this man is the one to get me to do it again. I thought it'd be Alistair or Zevran, or Fenris, but you'll get the egg instead.

I love me some angsty pining and unresolved feelings and since Solas is Solas, he's perfect for this scene concept.

Pairing: solas/inquisitor (can be read as self-insert as well)

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, unresolved romantic tension, made to fit any inky, not just fem!lavellan

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: For a moment he missed the way their fingers wrapped themselves around their teacup, holding it like something precious, something worth touching; he missed the way he longed to be held by them just so.

Solas hates tea, but he promised he'd never forget them.

[Written to fit an Inky of any gender/race, not just fem!Lavellan.]

ao3 link

The scent of tea was not the problem to Solas — it was its taste. It didn't matter how fragrant its smell, how earthy or flowery the flavor's undertone, tea was always far too bitter. Bitter enough to twist his face with disgust, bitter enough to burn his tongue. Sugar made it a sickly kind of sweet, but the bitterness never really went away. It would spread inside his mouth like a disease, and each time he wanted nothing more than to be rid of it, to replace it with a taste that actually agreed with his palette.

The cup he was holding was nothing like the one the Inquisitor had used in years past, back when the sun seemed brighter and his purpose didn't weigh so heavy on his shoulders. Theirs was small and light, made of fine porcelain, and his was heavy, thick and tall.

For a moment he missed the way their fingers wrapped themselves around their teacup, holding it like something precious, something worth touching; he missed the way he longed to be held by them just so.

He pushed that longing down just as he had so many times before, the same way he did it over and over again as the years passed and the light of their soul grew brighter. He'd allow himself just this one sign of weakness, just this one moment of despair and not one more. It was for the best.

---

The sun outside was setting and the entire sky was on fire with it.

The Inquisitor was sitting in Skyhold's rotunda, a dainty porcelain teacup cradled in their hands. The tea was still steaming, its aroma filling the space around them. It was rich, fruity and sweet. They took a deep breath, enjoying the fragrance, before taking a tiny sip.

Solas stood nearby, a brush in his hand. He'd spend the past few days working on another one of his murals and was about to add the first layer of color. The Inquisitor usually accompanied him while he worked. Sometimes they'd talk — about the Fade, about the Inqusition's next move, about a book they'd both been reading. Sometimes they'd sit in silence, the Inqusitor watching and Solas quietly enjoying the attention. But almost always, they'd bring with them a cup of hot tea.

‘Inquisitor, if I may,' said Solas, adding a big pass of a bright, vivid red to the wall.

‘You may,' said the Inquisitor, tone light.

Solas' smile was small; it was gone before they could see it. ‘I couldn't help but notice how you always bring tea with you, yet you don't seem to enjoy it, not really.'

‘Ah,' they made a quiet, startled sound, clearly caught off guard.

‘I don't mean to pry, but I find it a little curious that you keep drinking it despite that. I assume you have a reason.' Solas turned away from his painting to look at his Inquisitor. His eyes were drawn to their hands and the cup in them; a sudden burst of feeling in his chest made him catch his breath.

Foolish, foolish man, he thought. He didn't let it show.

They, too, took a long look at the cup in their hands before taking another tiny sip. A mostly hidden look of disgust passed their face, but Solas caught it anyway.

‘It's a reminder.'

It was Solas' turn to be caught of guard. Of all possible answers. ‘How come?'

The Inquisitor carefully lowered the cup down to the floor and left it right by their seat. They cleared their throat as they straightened, looking a mixture of solemn and bashfull.

‘I never really liked tea, you see.'

‘You are not alone in that.' He let his nose wrinkle a bit for emphasis. Not too much, but just enough to be noticeable.

‘Oh, I know, don't worry.' They chuckled. ‘I never liked tea, but my mother always had. She had this big tea and cup collection she was very proud of, you know?'

They looked at the wall opposite to them, but it was like they weren't looking anywhere at all. ‘And she knew I didn't really like it, but she'd make me drink it with her anyway.'

Was there a shine to their eyes?

‘We'd pick a flavor, and she'd make me pick the cups we'd be drinking from.' Their next chuckle was wet; they must have realised this — they cleared their throat again. ‘At the time I found it rather annoying, but now, well…' They turned to look at Solas. ‘It's my way of remembering her, I suppose. Her and all the happier times.'

He was silent for a moment. The air all around them smelled of fruit.

‘I see. I'm sorry for your loss, Inquisitor.'

---

The drink in his cup smelled of fruit, but the scent wasn't quite right. He didn't know nearly enough about teas to pin-point what was missing, but he knew something was. A certain note in the smell, so familiar he could almost taste it.

No matter. This one would have to do.

The cup warmed his hands as sweet-smelling steam filled the air with an aroma that, to him, smelled like paint and sunsets, and a sky on fire. His eyes burned with tears he wouldn't, couldn't let himself shed over memories he had no right to grieve. Not after he had left, not before he was about to do something unforgivable and yet, to him, necessary. Something he wouldn't be able to take back. He wasn't sure whether or not that was a good thing.

He took a sip of his tea and grimaced.

It was so, so bitter.

#solas x reader #solas x inquisitor #solas x lavellan #solas x trevelyan #solas x cadash #solas x adaar #solas angst #pining solas #angst #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age inquisition #dai #my writing

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yanderes-galore · 4 months ago

Note

Love your writing on Fear and Hunger! Can I ask for a scenario/short where the Kaiser (Legarde) finds Darling reincarnated in Termina? They died such a long time ago, surely he won't let them get away from him time.

Considering the soul system in F&H... This seems plausible, actually.

Rebirth

Yandere! Kaiser (Le'Garde) Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Murder, Blood, Delusional behavior, Intimate implications (nothing happens, just mentions it as you were flings), Stalking, Forced relationship.

Everyone has a soul that reflects who they are.

The Kaiser, once known as Le'Garde, has grown familiar with such occult things. Every person has a soul that allows them certain abilities. Some subjects even share the same soul type... possibly through blood...

Or even reincarnation.

The Kaiser, once all these contestants came for the festival, sensed a familiar presence he knew long ago. It was unnerving at first.... Such a presence brought back memories of a vulnerable time.

That presence... It reminds him of those dreaded dungeons. Those dungeons that made him reborn again into a new god.... He suffered in those dungeons...

But he didn't recall suffering alone.

No, when he was still a typical unenlightened mortal, he had companions in those dungeons. Most of them he considered pawns. However, there was one he deemed worthy of his attention.

You, a poor soul exploring the dungeons, had come to his aid. He originally thought you foolish... yet frustratingly appealing. You and him had grown close in those dungeons.

Le'Garde was normally never one for love. He had his eyes set on greater things. He didn't even recognize D'arce's feelings. Yet, with you... deep in those cold and bloody dungeons.

You managed to get him out of his armor more than once when you were alone.

To Le'Garde and most likely you, they were Sylvian flings. Just a way to find comfort in those dungeons while surviving. It wasn't about love...

That's... what he tells himself... yet back then he kept approaching you for more.

Did he like you more than he thought?

Before Le'Garde could sort out such feelings, his plan was set in motion. He was made to be a God, one way or another. Although... by the end of it...

He never saw you again.

As The Kaiser, he had not thought of such thoughts until now. It was only when he was reminded of your presence that he looked back on his feelings. He shouldn't be thinking of this...

You died long ago....

Yet, as though fate guided your soul, your soul somehow made it back here. The Kaiser was already wary of the contestants on that train. He had enemies hunting him down...

But he also saw someone similar to you... He could sense it was you.

This was your soul.

The soul of the one he felt was rightly his.

Naturally, The Kaiser felt drawn to you. It was though his own soul ached for you once again. He felt oddly... giddy at the idea of finding his love again.

It's amusing to him.... He thought he forgot this feeling. Yet the moment he feels your soul close to his he's desperate. You have so much power over a god such as him...

Even if you no longer know him.

Ah, yes, a problematic thought. The idea of you nor remembering echoes in his mind. However... surely once you feel his presence...

You'll remember.

In this place and new age... in this festival... you didn't stand a chance alone. The Kaiser knew this... but just like in those dungeons, you put together a team of contestants to help you. Although... by the time you feel confident enough to challenge Rher or escape this place...

The Kaiser appears before you... sword drawn with a snake slithering around his neck...

Before you knew it, you're overpowered, not equipped enough to challenge him.

The stench of blood is oddly familiar, even if you haven't encountered anything like it from what you remember. The sight of this... being in front of you sends chills down your spine. Yet you cannot tell why.

You feel nauseous when The Kaiser slowly but surely slaughters those you called friends. Even that feels familiar... along with the blood on your clothes. You truly never stood a chance...

Why does this all feel—

"Do you remember me?" The Kaiser asks, towering over you. He doesn't seem to care much that you're laying in the blood of your friends. Their corpses are grotesque... just like the rest of this hell.

"Don't you feel it too? Our souls that were once bound together. I don't think I could forget you if I tried...."The Kaiser murmurs, as if reminiscing on a distant memory.

He sounds nostalgic... yet you just sob.

"Please— Please, I'm sorry! Spare me...." You plead, sensing the end was near for you. Except...

The Kaiser merely chuckles, as if what you said was cute.

"Spare you? Of course I'm sparing you, my consort." The Kaiser grins, eyes gleaming under his yellow hood. "After all... Why would I kill you when I've just found you again?"

"I don't know you... what are you trying to do?" You try to get answers, but The Kaiser merely clicks his tongue.

"Oh, love, you'll remember soon enough. You'll remember the dungeons, you'll remember the blood... the danger... the passion... but most importantly..." The Kaiser coos, stalking closer before grabbing your bloody hand and yanking you to your feet.

"You're going to remember me. You'll soon remember me as your love and you'll never abandon me. You'll be my consort, as you were always meant to be." The Kaiser hums, not minding your fearful yet desperate attempts to pull away.

"Consort? No— Let go—!" You struggle, yet The Kaiser merely drags you close to him. His touch and skin feels oddly cold...

The thought of following him scares you on a primal level.

"No, my consort. We were always meant to be together in all lifetimes." The Kaiser growls, pulling you close to his side. "I need you to follow me, love... we have a lot to catch up on. You may be scared... but don't worry..."

The Kaiser chuckles again, squeezing your side as you tremble and walk.

"I'll make you remember what we were and who you belong to... and I'll never let you go again."

#yandere fear and hunger #yandere funger #yandere fear and hunger termina #yandere kaiser #yandere le'garde

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the-whispers-of-death · 1 year ago

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So I've talked about Worshipper!Reader, but what about Deity!Reader? And I mean, you're actually a deity.

You're not a deity of war and bloodshed, but something adjacent to that. Your realm of power focuses on the soldiers instead of the aspect of war. You've been around for centuries, seen so many great soldiers come and go, some generals being champions/worshippers of yours. You've provided magical aid to some of your worshippers over the years, during the height of when deities were still revered.

But now, you haven't taken a champion in at least a century. You're still around, you still get a few wayward prayers from those soldiers who are praying for safety but aren't praying specifically to Christian God. With those prayers, you still have power. But no one has ever stood out as someone worthy of your attention and care. So many generals, but they're all too greedy for you to want to give them aid.

Until you're drawn to the mortal realm, hearing a voice that's not yet gravelly from smoking talking to a Urzikstan woman whom the voice just helped free her and other POWs from captivity. This voice, this man, he airs authority.

He's Lieutenant John Price, not yet captain. He intrigues you in a way no other mortal has before, drawing your interest in assuring his safety. It's clear to you that he's not looking to gain more power and money for his own personal gain, he's truly wanting peace in the world. He enlisted purely to help others, and that's something you haven't seen in mortals for so long.

You watch as he gets on a helicopter with his men, your thoughts on following him—and the woman named Commander Farah Karim. Seems like you finally have someone to be your champion, even if he doesn't know it just yet.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks/requests are open, feel free to request something!

#john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x male reader #john price x gender neutral reader #john price x reader #john price x female reader #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x gender neutral reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain price x male reader #captain price x reader #captain price x gender neutral reader #captain price x female reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #cod x reader #desi!reader #deity!reader #i was debating also having reader have Farah as their champion too #but then i realized she might be a muslim and I was like I don't want to risk offending anyone #but I also didn't want to not talk about how Farah and how her cause could also be worthy of getting deity!reader's protection #anyways i'm rambling #:)

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anyamaris · 2 years ago

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Ripple

Word Count-1756

Summary- After a long week with little sleep, you accidentally fall asleep in the bathtub. Fortunately, someone finds you...

Pairing- Yeosang x F!Reader

Trope- Friends to lovers au, smut

Warnings-Vulgarity, unprotected sex (wrap er up), intimacy, minors DNI, 18+++++ NSFW

Tags: @ksmutsociety @cultofdionysusnet @shinestarhwaa @woosanbby @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

A/N- I couldn't help but write this one even though I have so many others started. I accidentally fell asleep in the bath this week and I couldn't help my wandering brain. This is my current Yeo fantasy so I hope you enjoy and please reblog and feedback is always appreciated!

Update:Thank you to @kwanisms for the pretty new header! I adore you!

As always thank you to @cafekitsune for the banners 🤍💜🤍

Your eyes flutter a bit and you barely register how cold and clammy your skin is before you're being hoisted up into someone's arms.

"Y/n!" you hear and you instinctively reach out and wrap your arms around the man holding you. "Ughhh..." you moan out and then shiver. "Oh my god, you're freezing cold!" the man says and from the deep timbre of his voice, you wake up a little more.

"Yeo-Yeosang?" you manage and bury your face into his warm neck. "So cold...." you whisper and his arms tighten, pulling you closer. "Shh...going to your room, ok?" he whispers and then you feel him moving. Opening your eyes, you look up at the man carrying you.

His long dark hair is framing his face, and concern is pinching his beautiful, angelic features. You admire his beautiful birthmark as you curl into him more. His warmth feels so pleasant and you are slow to register what is actually going on.

You start to remember how you got here. Your week had been a nightmare, between work and barely getting any sleep from stress, you'd come home Saturday night and drawn a bubble bath. Your roommate had told you he'd be gone tonight so you'd taken advantage of the quiet.

So how was Yeosang here now, carrying you like a princess to your room? "Wooyoung gave me a key," you register him saying. "He asked me to stop by for some stuff. I'm glad he did, don't you know you could have drown?" he's scolding. "Mmm..." you murmur and tighten your arms around his neck.

Instead of setting you down, he sits on the bed with you in his lap. He yanks a fluffy blanket over to you both and then he's wrapping it around you and him. You don't know why he's not just letting you go, but you're not going to complain. You'd been harboring a very deep crush on the man for ages now.

And now...you were naked, in his lap, on your bed...with noone else home.

You...were naked... it finally clicks in your head. Embarrassment colors your cheeks as you look up at him. He's doesn't appear to be affected by your nakedness and you feel a pang of sadness. Of course he isn't...he's just worried about his friend's roommate.

"Yeo....sorry I ....just haven't been sleeping, I guess." you say, feeling shy and vulnerable all at once. His face softens as he takes yours in, the stern look fading into tenderness. "Y/n...." he sighs and one of his hands is cupping your cheek.

Swallowing hard, you feel a shiver wrack your body as his inner arm brushes against your breast at the action. Your nipple tightens at the contact and the tenderness on his face changes. His eyes flicker down to your naked chest, and you watch as his lips part slightly. Before you can stop yourself, you reach up and run a fingertip over his bottom lip.

His sharp intake of breath has your heart pounding. "I'm sorry...I...just..." you stammer, feeling a swell of confusion on top of your lust and some shame at your reaction to him. You go to turn your head and go to push away from him, intending to get up.

Before you can even look away completely, his hand is behind your neck, pulling you towards him as his mouth meets yours. His lips are soft and searching, this thumb rubbing gently across your cheekbone. You let out a small noise of surprise and then you're melting into him.

As you lean into him, you register that his shirt is soaking wet from getting you out of the tub. The kiss is broken as he pulls back and looks at you. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's searching your face. "Y/n...I am...I want to tell you properly that... I..." he struggles to get out but his eyes are half lidded and he's leaning in again, capturing your lips once more.

"Yeosang...." you manage as his mouth opens, his tongue seeking yours. You let out a moan and you can feel his reaction as his hands start to move over your skin, his fingers trailing up your side. You barely notice the blanket falling off your shoulders as you reach up and put your fingers in his hair.

His hand travels around to your lower back and he splays his hand to hold you. You tug gently at him and he stops, pulling back to search your face. "Your shirt...sorry, I got it all wet." you say and he's groaning as you reach down to lift it. You finally register his stiffness underneath you, pressing into your bottom.

He briefly leans back as you pull his shirt over his head and throw it to the side. You can't control the shiver that wracks your whole body at his naked chest. His arms and shoulders are so well defined, and his chest is beautifully sculpted. This man is insanely perfect, you think.

"You're still so cold," he sighs out, picking you up once more. You have a moment to revel at feeling small and helpless in his strong arms before he's gently placing you on the bed. Then he's unbuttoning his pants and removing the rest of his clothing before crawling on top of you.

He holds himself above you, sliding between your legs. He pulls the blanket over you both before settling his body on yours. "They...were wet too...." he says, blushing, as his naked thigh brushes yours, his hard length pressing against your pelvis.

You take in his face, his ragged breathing, his lust filled eyes. "Yeo...I...will you ...keep me warm?" you breathe out and he's capturing your lips with his again. You moan into his open mouth and reach up to touch his strong shoulders before you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, arching up into his kiss.

He lets out a low growl as his hand runs slowly up your side, your skin prickling from the softness of his touch. His hand finally slides up to cup your breast in his palm, his thumb gently rubbing over your taut nipple. The simple gesture has you arching your back and whining, your head leaning back. His lips travel down to your neck and he's audibly breathing. His hips are pressing you down and you adjust yours so that his cock rubs against your wet core.

"Fuck..!" he gasps against your ear and he's trembling, suddenly halting his movements. "Yeo....?" you ask, almost breathless. You can't help but squirm a bit and press upwards. "Are you...do you...fuck....is this ok with you?" He asks, and you run your hand down his back, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Yes, Yeosang...it's more than ok. I....I've wanted you...I ..." you stutter, feeling shy again at the idea of confessing at this moment, regardless of the current position you're in. He draws his head back and looks down at you, his lust filled gaze searching your face. "You too?" he asks and you bite your lip with a nod.

"Oh thank fucking god," he groans out and then he's kissing you again. You run your hand over his back as he starts moving his hips once more, his length sliding against your folds. You let out a long moan and you feel his smile against your mouth. He pulls back and looks at you as he rolls his hips, slowly pulling himself back. Then he's staring into your eyes as the tip of his cock presses against your entrance.

You just stare up at him with your lips parted, breathing out small moans as he stretches you, pushing his length deep inside of you until he's entirely sheathed within your tight walls. His hand glides back into your hair, holding the back of your head as he pulls back, then thrusts back into you. You cry out, the sudden movement and friction against all of your sensitive spots, as well as his dilated eyes making you see stars.

His smirk as he thrusts again, then again has you panting, your heart pounding against your chest as his moans mix with yours. Your legs go around him and his smirk fades, his jaw clenching. "Y/n...I don't know ...how long...I can...." he bites out, his whimpers turning into deep cries.

His head drops into your neck and you hold tightly onto him as his thrusts pick up more. "Yeosang....don't hold back...please...." you gasp out, crying out with mewling sounds in between. He slides his hands up your arms, pulling them over your head. His fingers entwine with yours and he's holding you down as he starts to fuck you faster and harder.

"You feel so good." he's rasping and his mouth is on your ear, the sensation of his voice and the hot breath spiraling you into a sudden unexpected orgasm. "Yeo! Yeo! YEOSANG!" You scream out, hips lifting and he's panting and crying out as you clamp down around him.

"Oh...BABY FUCK... I CAN'T ST-" his body is shaking and his hips are stuttering as warmth fills your insides, his release forcing him to gasp and tremble. It feels like an eternity before you feel your insides relax, the warm liquid of his seed seeping out from between you as he lets out a breath. His body goes limp on yours and his face is just buried in your neck, his breathing eventually slowing down.

Your hands comb through his hair and you bask in the sensation of him being inside of you, his body pressed down on yours. His arms slide underneath you and he murmurs soft nothings as he starts to softly kiss your neck.

"Baby..." he mutters and then he's kissing you, his mouth devouring you. Pulling back, he presses his forehead against yours. "Will you be mine?" he asks bluntly and you can't help the happy smile and the blush that creeps into your cheeks.

"Yes...I'm pretty sure I've been yours for awhile now, I'm just glad you finally noticed." you say softly, and he can't help but let out a low chuckle. "Yeah...I'm a little dense sometimes. But it's been mutual, for awhile." Your smile softens as he kisses you once again, delicately.

"Do me a big favor though?" he asks, drawing designs on the bare skin of your chest, his head resting in the crook of your shoulder and neck. "mmm?" you manage, enjoying the after sex bliss.

"If you take a bath again, just call me first."

#cultofdionysusnet #ksmutsociety #yeosang smut #yeosang au #Kang Yeosang smut #Kang Yeosang au #Yeosang friends to lovers au #Ateez au #ateez smut

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quuerbee · 3 months ago

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Heugh ok big time spoilers warning for 1175 (and prior ofc) I'm gonna be rambling so don't expect anything analytic 🫵

GOD OK SO. Its been commented on multiple times throughout the novel that the diciples of Mount Hua (sect leader, elders, 5 swords, etc) want to carry some of the burden that Chung Myung carries. Hyun Jong asks him to trust him and not go after the Myriad Man Manor (I think that's what it was called before they formed the big bad alliance....) in the direct aftermath of the attack on the sect (chapters like. 350-420 ish if I'm remembering correctly?). The 5 Swords try to protect him during that final fight at the north sea when he's been buried in rubble, and then they try to support him again in the first yangzte river battle (the one where the 3 year pacification pact came from) and so on and so forth. This is a VERY COMMON THING.

Everytime they manage to get stronger to protect the sect (lifting some burden off of Chung Myung), the enemies get stronger and the situations get worse. They (being primarily the 5 swords + Tang Soso and Hye Yeon) begin to realize that despite getting stronger, Chung Myung is always at the forefront of the battle in the most danger. They haven't had a single major battle where Chung Myung was not present to help if needed. This also brought up the idea that they are indirectly putting Chung Myung in even more danger because he has to focus not only on the battle, but on saving them if needed (this has ALSO been brought up multiple times but i don't want to give examples so).

Now I know that this isn't Mount Hua's fault, they're being thrust into terrible situations with not great timing, but all of this has STRENGTHENED Chung Myung belief that no one but him can protect Mount Hua to the standard needed. (It's very interesting to note that he has ended up on the OPPOSITE side of the spectrum from his previous life, which Chung Myung actually comments on in chapter 1175!!!). Its been mentioned a lot (by that fuck ass monk Bop Jeong and others) that the success of the Heavenly Commrade Alliance lies damn near solely on Chung Myung back. Even Tang Gunak, Meang So, and Seol So Beak themselves admit that they were initially drawn towards CHUNG MYUNG and not towards Mount Hua. Namgung Dowi is a similar ish case, having been drawn to the Heavenly Commrade Alliance by Mount Hua and the Tang clans's actions at Plum Blossom Island (which Chung Myung lead). Long story short, if Chung Myung did not exist in Mount Hua, there would not be an alliance in the first place (which the novel straight up says).

Another concept that's been brought up lately is what exactly is Mount Hua willing to give up in the name of chivalry. Up until now, every single action taken by Mount Hua has had a positive impact on them while also upholding the chivalrous reputation of the sect. THIS IS WHERE CHUNG MYUNGS CURRENT STRIFE IS COMING FROM!!!! At the current moment he doesn't know what direct he wants to push Mount Hua in. Does he tell Shaolin to fuck off (picking the Heavenly Commarade Alliance over joining the 10 Great Sects) and deal with the inevitable consequences of that (reputation hit and more death among not only commoners but amongst Mount Hua diciples) or does he agree to Bop Jeong's plan and risk everything from the past repeating for the sake of chivalry? He is blinded by his indecision, even mentioning in chapter 1174 that if he were faced with the situation Chung Mun faced with Chung Jin (Chung Jin disappearing towards the end of the war), he wouldn't know what to do and he would "let it all slip from his grasp".

Along with this indecisiveness, he's also agonizing over his importance to the alliance. He is now in a position similar to what Chung Mun held in the past, and he's having a difficult time coping with that. Chung Myung rationally understands his importance, going as far as to say that if he were anyone else, he would never let himself go onto the front lines. The issue lies in his survivors guilt. He wouldn't be able to make the decisions needed for victory if he himself wasn't there to be able to prevent any death he could.

Along comes Baek Cheon, who has been one of the main vocalizers for all the things mentioned above. He notices the things Chung Myung tries to hide. There are many, many times where Baek Cheon is one of the ones that knocks some sense into Chung Myung, but the one I really want to focus on is their interaction in chapter 1175. Baek Cheon, despite all the jokes, is the head diciple of the second generation. Chung Myung is his Sajae, his junior brother. He CARES about him. He doesn't like seeing him not act like an insane asshole. He KNOWS Chung Myung, enough to know his habits as well as his fears and motivators.

He uses his knowledge to comfort him in a blunt way by saying that he will outlive Chung Myung. And oh, isn't that heartbreaking? To acknowledge that Chung Myung would rather spend every day in hell than "allow" a diciple of Mount Hua to die before him (again). Baek Cheon says this as an offhand comment, a subtle reassurance without making it a big thing because he KNOWS that's one of the main things driving Chung Myung. Throughout this entire exchange, Chung Myung unintentional image of being a "perfect human" starts to strip away. He reveals to Baek Cheon that he doesn't exactly know why he holds all of this burden, but that he feels he is the only one who can. (Circling back to the guilt he feels due to his inaction 100 years ago).

Towards the end of the chapter, Chung Myung starts joking that he'll be back to normal soon, that he just has a lot on his mind. This signals once again that he is pushing against Baek Cheons silent offer of support. As they sit in silence, Baek Cheon brings up the question that has been eating at the entirety of Mount Hua for a while. He asks if they were stronger, if HE were stronger, would it have lightened his worries? The final sentence of the chapter indicates that Chung Myung doesn't answer this question.

Chung Myung cares so much about Mount Hua that he continually shoulders on more and more responsibilities because to him, that is the only way to atone for his past inaction. I just wish he could see how much Mount Hua cares about him in turn.

#VJFJFJJFJSJF WHY IS THIS SO LONG #ngl guys i lost the idea of what i was writing like halfway through #so it doesnt make. the most sense #i always want to do an in-depth look into BIGA's characterization of chung myung #and how his past interacts with the present #but everytime i think about it i can never quite find the words #ANYWAYS #i had fun writing this so thats all that matters even if it doesnt make any sense to anyone but me #no one gets him like i do fr (jk)#rotmhs #return of the blossoming blade #return of the mount hua sect #rotbb

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ataliagold · 7 months ago

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the edges of your soul i haven't seen yet

This came from wanting to expand on the ideas in 'you're the only one who knows, you slow it down', but consider this a new fic with very similar ideas. I'm not sure how long it'll be yet, but here's the first chapter. Title from Forever by Noah Kahan.

Also on AO3 here.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T (currently)

Tags: modern au, no upside down, autistic steve, steve has a service cat, eddie and steve fall in love while working at a farmers' market, stimming, autistic meltdowns/shutdowns/stimming, platonic soulmates steve and robin, eddie is a sweetheart

Summary: Eddie's reluctantly helping Wayne with his produce stall at the farmers' market. He's resigned himself to a boring summer - until a new face shows up at the market to run a baking stall with his best friend. Steve is...odd, like no one Eddie's ever met.

And it doesn't take him long to fall head over heels for him.

___

Chapter One

Eddie isn’t particularly enjoying his morning.

Not yet, anyway.

He grunts as Wayne loads another box into his arms, adjusting his footing under the weight of the produce, of apples and pears, oranges and grapefruit, of avocados and sweet potatoes and carrots and lettuces…

“Right, that’s the last of it,” Wayne announces, dusting his hands off and locking his pick-up behind him.

“Thank fuck,” Eddie grumbles. He makes his way towards their stall, cursing as he trips a little and loses an apple or two. There’s sweat dripping down his spine already, this summer proving to be particularly hot and humid even at eight fucking thirty a.m.

But Eddie had promised Wayne he’d help him out at the farmers’ market this weekend, since he had nothing better on, since his friends had actually gotten in to colleges and were busy getting ready to move away, since Eddie had been sort of…left behind, with nothing to do but trail after his uncle like a bad smell.

He does as he’s told. Sets the boxes down where Wayne points, helps him set the produce out, puts the little cardboard signs with the prices scribbled on them at the front of the table.

Once that’s finished, Eddie sinks into a plastic camp chair with a sigh, reaching for an apple and loudly crunching into it, ignoring the half-hearted glare Wayne shoots back at him.

There’s only a couple of people here this early – mostly other stall-holders setting up, the occasional dog-walker taking a non-committal glance at the wares, an old lady or two with purses clutched close to their middles.

It’s gonna be a boring morning.

Eddie chucks his headphones on, cranks the music as loud as he’ll get away with, and settles in for several hours of withering in the heat and making sure no one pockets an extra pear.

Eventually, his gaze wanders.

Wayne’s talking to a customer, something about the growing season for oranges or some shit, when Eddie claps eyes on the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.

He sits up. Swallows, stares because he can’t help it.

There’s a literal god unfolding a table not far away, placing a thin yellow blanket on the top, smoothing it out just so. He’s about Eddie’s age, all olive skin dotted with moles and broad shoulders and golden hair that’s fallen effortlessly into place. Glasses frame his face, his perfect fucking face with those pink lips and square jaw, and even from here Eddie can see the look of concentration on the boy’s face, his brows slightly drawn together as he tucks the blanket in at the corners, as he readjusts several times to make sure it’s completely straight on the table.

A light smack to his knee jolts Eddie out of his daze, forces him to drag his gaze reluctantly back to Wayne. Wayne, who’s frowning at him, shaking his head.

“Turn your damn music down, Eds,” Wayne huffs, “need ya to dig me out some change.”

Eddie doesn’t argue. Lets Wayne believe he was distracted by his music, not by the boy several stalls over.

He rifles through their tin of change, picking out a few quarters, and then sneaks a look back again.

The boy’s bent over the table, light-wash jeans pulled tight across his ass, and Eddie’s pretty sure he’s openly gaping at the guy right now but he can’t fucking help it. It’s a baking stall, by the look of the cupcakes and cookies the boy’s currently placing out on the table, tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth as he works. The boy pauses for a moment in front of the table, as if assessing his wares for anything out of place.

“Eddie!” Wayne says again, exasperated. “You got that change, or what?”

Eddie snaps his mouth shut. Turns back to Wayne, hands him the change which his uncle takes with a shake of his head. Once the customer has left with a paper bag of carrots in hand, Eddie makes a decision.

“You want a cookie?” he asks Wayne.

“Huh?”

“A cookie,” Eddie repeats, slowly.

Wayne looks down at his watch. “It’s barely gone nine a.m.”

“So? I’m getting one. You want one, or not?”

After Wayne declines, Eddie heads off with a shrug, making straight for the tall boy still frowning down at his baking, thumb drawing anxious patterns on his index finger.

As he approaches, Eddie’s words die in his throat.

He’d planned on flirting. Was ready to try and charm the pants right off this boy, as quickly as he decently could.

But the closer he got, the more the butterflies began in his stomach.

Because somehow, he only got more attractive with every step Eddie took.

And yeah, he wasn’t usually one for ironed polos and blue jeans and bright white Nikes that looked meticulously clean, but Eddie’s cheeks were reddening and his heart was pounding when he reached the stall.

The boy didn’t turn around at his approach.

Not until Eddie clears his throat a little awkwardly, hand brushing over the back of his neck. Sheepish. Shy. Two things he’s never been in his whole fucking life.

“Uh…hi,” Eddie starts.

The boy’s eyes widen behind his glasses. His hands grasp each other, almost frantically, and his gaze darts from Eddie, to the table, to somewhere off behind him. He opens his mouth briefly, but closes it again without speaking.

Huh, Eddie thinks.

Well, maybe the guy’s even shyer than he is right now.

Eddie tries again. “I saw you setting up, looks good. The…the baking, I mean, not…not you setting up. Well, that too, honestly, but I thought…” Eddie trails off, internally kicking himself.

You fucking idiot, Munson.

The boy blinks at him.

When he still doesn’t speak, Eddie shifts from foot to foot a little, then finally steps over to the table.

“Well, I’m just gonna have a look, if that’s ok?”

The boy nods. Quick, his head jerking a little, the movement stiff and awkward.

Eddie feels his eyes boring into his back as he scans the table. There’s cupcakes with piped-on frosting in several different patterns but all of them yellow, matching the boy’s soft polo that was clinging unfairly to his chest. There’s slices of brownies, cookies of varying flavours, apple pie and cinnamon donuts and red velvet cake and shortbread…

“Did you make all of these?” Eddie asks, a little in awe.

Polo-boy nods, not meeting Eddie’s eye. He’s wringing his hands, clenching his jaw, repeatedly glancing over Eddie’s shoulder as if he’s looking for someone.

“Shit, that’s…there’s so much different stuff here, how long did it take you?” And Eddie’s genuinely curious, he’s not just talking for the sake of it, for the purpose of squeezing at least a word or two out of this guy. Because everything on that table was meticulous – the cookies perfectly round, the pie sliced into completely even pieces, not even a stray dribble of batter or frosting on the cupcake liners (also yellow, Eddie noted) – there’s so much effort gone into this, and Eddie’s impressed.

The boy wants to speak, it looks like.

Eddie waits while he opens and closes his mouth a few times, flapping a hand in front of him.

“Hey Stevie, everything ok?”

A girl wanders over with several cake boxes in her arms, glancing between Stevie and Eddie. She’s got short hair, a dusting of freckles across her face, and a yellow top on to match the boy in front of Eddie, who relaxes a tiny bit as soon as he sees her.

He nods, but doesn’t stop clenching his hands together over his stomach.

The girl puts the boxes down, and steps over to the boy.

“Hey, it’s ok,” she murmurs softly, “we talked about this, remember? You’re fine, just…take a breath, ok?”

Eddie turns away from them. Senses this isn’t a conversation meant for him, and brings his attention back to the table, pretending he’s just…really interested in cupcakes all of a sudden. But he’s only a couple of feet away, and the girl doesn’t seem to care that he can overhear.

“Has he asked to buy something?”

“No.”

It’s the first time Eddie’s heard the boy speak. His voice is quiet, not much above a whisper, but Eddie wants to hear more of it.

“He wanted to know how long it took me,” the boy continues, “to make everything.”

“Ok…so did you answer?”

“No. Wanted to.”

“Your words get stuck?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Well, that’s ok. Here, I’ll help you.”

“Robin -”

“You gotta try, Stevie. You can do it, come on.”

Eddie turns back to them as Robin tows the guy – Stevie? – over by his sleeve.

“Hi.” She grins at Eddie, and the boy stands slightly behind her, looking down at his feet. “This is Steve, I’m Robin. It’s our first time at a market and Steve’s kinda nervous. Can we help you with anything?”

Eddie’s eyes flick back to Steve, to his red cheeks and long eyelashes. His heart thuds in his chest.

He smiles at them. “I’m Eddie, my uncles got a stall just over there.” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “We sell fruit and shit. This is really your first day? Your set up is…really nice.”

“Thanks.” Robin beams even wider. “It was all Steve really, he did all the baking too, I’m just here to help out.”

Eddie nods slowly. Steve’s still avoiding his eye, no matter how much Eddie tries to catch it.

Swallowing his disappointment, he points to one of the chocolate chip cookies on the table.

“Can I get one of those, please?”

Robin nods briskly. “Steve, can you sort that?” She nudges him slightly in the side, and Steve springs into action, seemingly happy to give his hands something to do as he grabs a paper bag and looks around the table for something.

He freezes suddenly.

Robin’s back at his side immediately.

“Everything ok?” she asks quietly.

He shakes his head, flaps a hand at the table, face drawn tight in a frown.

“Where’s the…” he mumbles, trailing off.

“The what?” Robin prompts.

Steve bites his bottom lip, hands finding his thighs and tugging at his jeans, frustrated. Seemingly unable to find the word, he brings a hand up to chest height and makes a little snapping motion with his fingers.

“…tongs?” Robin guesses, and Steve nods briskly. “Maybe we left them in the car? I’ll go have a look.”

“It’s fine, you can just use your fingers,” Eddie offers, because he truly couldn’t care less.

Steve shakes his head vehemently, face tightening even further.

“Or…I could grab it?” Eddie tries, but Steve shakes his head again, looking so distressed that Eddie shuts up.

There’s a meow from somewhere behind the table.

A black and white cat emerges from under it, a red collar around its neck, and approaches Steve confidently, pressing up against his legs.

Steve ignores the cat, at first.

He’s digging a thumbnail into the meat of his palm, shuffling from foot to foot every so often, dragging a lip so hard between his teeth that Eddie’s worried he’s gonna make it bleed, and Eddie isn’t sure what to do. He wants to help, wants to somehow soothe the boy, but he isn’t sure how, thinks if he gets any closer to him he’ll only make things worse.

The cats meows again. Presses itself harder up against Steve, stretches up so its little front paws are against his thigh, kneading insistently, refusing to be ignored.

Steve sags a little. Reaches down with a trembling hand, strokes it across the cat’s head, and Eddie can hear the rumbling purr start up from the little creature. He watches as Steve loosens up, as his fingers unclench and his teeth release his lip and the frown fades slowly from his lovely face.

Robin returns, snapping the tongs triumphantly, and hands them to Steve.

He takes them happily and returns to his task, placing Eddie’s chosen cookie into the bag with more care than Eddie’s ever seen from someone serving him food before.

Eddie takes the offered bag, the divine scent wafting out and making his mouth water. Wayne was going to regret not asking for one, he knows.

Steve looks up, catches his eye for the tiniest moment, then his gaze ducks away.

“Thanks, Steve,” Eddie says softly. “This smells great, seriously. And if you guys need anything,” he looks over to Robin to include her, too, “come see me at the fruit stall, I’m just over there.” He points in the direction of Wayne, who’s no doubt getting grumpier by the minute at Eddie’s absence.

Please come, Eddie begs silently, eyeing Steve one last time before he turns away.

“Three days,” Steve blurts out as Eddie starts to walk away.

Eddie pauses, turns back to him.

Steve’s eyes are fixed on his shoes again, and he rocks back and forth on his heels slightly. Robin glances between the two of them, then looks hopefully back at Steve.

Eddie frowns slightly, about to question him, when Steve speaks again.

“It took me three days. To bake everything. Wanted it all to be perfect.”

Eddie smiles, wide and warm.

“It is, Steve.”

___

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #autistic steve harrinton #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson

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h8ani · 1 year ago

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𝙎𝙚𝙚 𝙉𝙤 𝙀𝙫𝙞𝙡, 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙉𝙤 𝙀𝙫𝙞𝙡

Kinktober Day 6 - Sensory Deprivation

Pairing: Feitan Portor x Reader

Anime: Hunter x Hunter

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of kidnapping, reader has senses stripped from her (blindfold, tied up, earplugs), vibrator usage, lowkey Stockholm syndrome type vibes, punishment, edging, overstimulation

A/N: thank you @kkittycries for proofreading this for me god knows I needed it 🥲🥲

It's been who knows how long, you think it's been at least a year, maybe less since the day you were taken. Time moved so differently at first.

You were trapped in the basement with only a bucket to use and had a small, thin, worn down mattress to sleep on. You had no concept of time when you were down there. It was always dark and cold and you spent most of your days/nights crying until you were exhausted and sleep had come over you.

The more compliant you got, the more privileges you were given but even then it wasn't much.

You've asked him how long it's been but all he gives is a gruff scoff and a simple reply of "Long."

Now you've stopped asking, you do as he wants to try to please him. By now you've upgraded from the basement, to the guest bedroom upstairs. Although, when he wants you in his room for the night you stay there.

Feitan by no means is the word soft or even kind but, the longer you've stayed in the house and the longer you've done what you're told he's been in his own way nicer to you. He allows you to add some of your own food you'd like to the grocery list, you have a nicer mattress in your room, he even leaves you alone most of the time which is a blessing in itself. You still aren't allowed to leave the house other than to go out to the backyard, the fence is so high that you wouldn't even be able to climb to escape but the fresh air was always nice too. There's been a few rare occasions where you've left the house but it's always been well into the night with him alongside you.

It's also rare that you've actually been punished.

There's been small punishments like not being given food for a few days or when your mattress was taken from you so you had to sleep on the floor, but he's never taken a blade to your skin, never harmed you, he's never tortured you like he does to his victims he brings to the house.

You're grateful for that.

But.

What you're enduring now, you've never been punished like this before, if this can even be considered a punishment.

The rope bound around your wrists was tight, rough and uncomfortable. Every move you made to free yourself burned your tender skin, your movements useless from how tightly knotted the rope connected to his bedpost was, the little strength you had doing no good. He had put a blindfold over your eyes and that was surprisingly soft, you think it was a satin material but you no longer having your sight only heightened all the emotions running through your body. You were no longer able to see Feitan or see what he was doing. You didn't even know where he was in the room. You tried focusing on the only sense you had left which was your hearing, you had focused on every little sound in the bedroom but Feitan ended up taking that away from you too. Earplugs were soon put in diminishing the last sense you had.

You were completely cut off from your senses. No sight, no hearing, not even a simple touch.

The only thing you were able to feel was your impending orgasm which was continually cut short.

You didn't have a clue as to why Feitan had started this punishment. You didn't try to escape from him, you haven't tried that since the first time you were brought up from the basement. You always make sure to keep the house locked up when he was gone, curtains always drawn closed, windows locked, doors locked, you don't even go to the backyard when he's not home. That couldn't have been the reason. You were completely clueless as to why you were tied up and being tortured like this.

You clench around nothing as the vibrator pushes harder against your clit, the pressure was enough for a choked moan to leave your lips as the vibrations traveled through your body.

You can hear him scoff as he clicks the vibrator intensity up one sending you back on the edge of orgasm. Your hips rolling into the vibrator just wanting to feel release.

"You aren't meant to enjoy this." Feitan says lowly knowing you couldn't hear him, he clicks the vibrator up one more and within seconds you tip over the edge finally being able to reach the orgasm you've so rudely been getting taken away from you. Your body jerking as you let your orgasm flood your senses, wrists tugging against the rope as you cry out his name. This was the most intense orgasm you've felt and Feitan wasn't letting up as he kept the vibrator pushes up against your sensitive clit.

You were panting as you rode out your high, squirming away as best as you can from the abusive vibrator between your legs. Pushing against the bed with your feet to get away, you felt Feitan's hand grip your hip and tug you back down.

"I'm sorry." You quickly say. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You repeat the same apology over and over just wanting to get away from the pleasure that was slowly trailing into pain. "Feitan I'm sor-"

His lips cut you off, his body leaning more into yours which put more pressure on the vibrator. You whimpered into the kiss, tears threatening to spill beneath the blindfold.

He said something to you but it just sounded muffled due to the earplugs. Your brows scrunched up in frustration because of your lack of hearing. You huffed a sigh and before you could ask what he said, you felt the vibrator pull away from you, instantly calming you down and allowing you to actually come down from your prolonged high.

Your earplugs came out next and Feitan's voice sounded louder than ever.

"Sorry for what?" Feitan doesn't necessarily joke around but you could hear him teasing you clear as day.

"I'm sorry for...what I did."

"And what did you do?" He leans down, breath fanning your face and you didn't need to see to know he had a smirk plastered on his face.

"Maybe if you actually told me I'd know! I think you're just doing this because you find it amusing!" You snap at him, frustration getting the better of you.

He doesn't reply and that alone makes you nervous. It's completely silent but you feel him shift back down to your thighs spreading them further. He slowly rakes his nails down your thigh and then up again, you think he actually might be done, hoping he got bored of this punishment he was putting you through.

Then you hear the vibrator being clicked on again.

You could feel your stomach drop as he tsks at you again.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to continue until you remember."

#kinktober #kinktober day 6 #sensory deprivation #Feitan #feitan portor #feitan x reader #feitan portor x reader #Feitan x you #Feitan portor x you #hxh x you #hxh x reader #hxh #Hunter x Hunter #feitan hxh #feitan imagines #Feitan portor imagines #Feitan fics #Feitan portor fics #BENKEIBEAR MADE THE MINORS DNI AND SUPPORT BANNER

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laiqualaurelote · 7 months ago

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If these haven't been asked yet for the ask game: M and P!

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I had this wild idea for an Accidental Baby Acquisition fic in which Crystal has an unplanned pregnancy (this is about 10 years after the events of Dead Boy Detectives and she's in her mid-20s) and though she has no desire to involve the father (yet another of her douchebag exes) she decides she does want to have the baby. Charles is thrilled because baby! but also terrified because what if it turns out he's like his dad after all? Edwin goes through the five stages of grief in 24 hours, from denial ("this agency cannot afford to have a baby! how will Crystal get any work done?" "this is why we should have had the maternity leave discussion a long time ago, Edwin" "what the bloody hell is maternity leave?!") to acceptance (Charles: "Let me talk to him. You go get some sleep." Crystal comes back the next morning to find the entire office covered in books on pregnancy and that Edwin has already drawn up diet plans/classical music playlists/the baby's entire linguistic education pathway. Charles: "I tried to stop him. Really I did." Edwin, hysterical: "We are doing this right! We are going to have the best baby!" Crystal: "Oh God.")

Also ft:

the Night Nurse's horrified realisation that she is actually going to have to midwife Crystal through this thing

Jenny's horrified realisation that she is now an aunt. Great-aunt, even

Crystal's ancestors having way too many opinions on the whole process

"Edwin Payne, you stay the fuck out of my womb!"

Crystal going into labour while on a case, in another dimension

Charles cutting the umbilical cord with his magic sword and bursting into tears upon getting to hold the baby for the first time

Crystal insisting on breastfeeding during client consultations (Victorian gentleman ghost: "This is an outrage, madam!" Edwin: "Sir, if you are unable to take your eyes off my colleague's breasts then I suggest you take your plaint elsewhere. This is a progressive workplace.")

Edwin attempting to solve mastitis through magic

the boys taking the baby on nighttime excursions so Crystal can get some sleep

the baby loves being in the backpack (Charles' theory is that it reminds her of being in the womb. Crystal: "Charles Rowland, do not put my fucking baby into the same bag as that bomb!" Edwin: "Crystal! Language!")

at some point they discover the baby is an interdimensional being which is a whole other headache

Charles keeps referring to all this as "the Infamous Baby Debacle of 2034" and nobody can make him stop

The last chapter would be from the child's POV:

"Hi my name is Niko Surname von Hoverkraft and I can travel between dimensions. My mom is the most powerful woman in the world. My godfathers are dead and I'm not allowed to talk about it. I'm not related to Niko Sasaki but I wish I were because she's so pretty and it snows all the time in her dimension. I was walking outside in London with my godfathers. It was London so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of people stared at me, I guess because they can't see my godfathers so it looks like I'm talking to myself. I put up my middle finger at them."

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

Everyone thinks I'm an architect - I would love to think of myself as an architect - but actually I plan very little in advance. I think the best metaphor would be architect-gardener, in that I build a little trellis and let the story grow on it how it will.

Thank you for playing this fic ask game!

#procrasktination #dead boy detectives #tw: pregnancy

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jduckdraws · 8 months ago

Text

First pic: 06/27/24 - 07/10/24

Second pic: 06/26/23 -?

Last pic: 01/13/23

Last year on my break I did alot of concept art of my Sonic Dimensions AU characters. My brother was telling me for the longest time to give the characters new designs to make them look different but I was too lazy to do it back then, so I finally decided to take a crack at it since my Au has a small timeskip they shouldhave different looks since its a new era for them. Also thinking of the overall theme what im going for the comic. I remember how long it too me to do Sonic's design cause I wanted his look to me be similar to his current one. I wanted to make his shoes look really cool and detailed along with his gloves. I was looking at all these cool runner shoes for him. God knows I'm regretting it cause they are difficult to draw, especially if I gotta keep drawing it in the comic too🥲 but I love how they look so I'm keeping it for now I just gotta practice it alittle more. Maybe i might give him another pair of shoes in the future but we'll see. Lol

Anyways the first drawing was me practicing some hatch techniques making it look more like a manga. I want my comic to be colored but i really like the manga black/white look. Haven't drawn a cool looking Sonic in so long so this drawing just gased me up that I actually improved ya'll 😭 I'm so proud of myself.✨️💪🏽 I want to continue doing this on my side account posting my concept work new doodles with it too. Next is probably Shadow.

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yanderes-galore · 8 months ago

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Enki Ankarian (Fear and Hunger) with a priest reader Romantic/Platonic 🪲 [Shiny Bug Anon]

I haven't actually written for Enki yet, so here's my attempt :)

Yandere! Enki Ankarian with Dark Priest! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Religious themes, Dark themes, Manipulation, Protective/Possessive behavior, Necromancy, Blood, Death, Dubious companionship/relationship.

Enki is a soul who craves knowledge.

The reason he came to the dungeons was to learn due to his nature as a Dark Priest and someone with the Enlightened Soul.

Enki's antisocial and probably didn't even speak with his fellow priests often unless it was to learn or perform rituals.

He's frail yet rude and closed-off compared to the rest of the main cast.

He's confident in his skills, that being magic and intelligence.

As a result, when you meet him he may seem arrogant to the average person.

Enki didn't expect to meet anyone in the dungeons except for Le'Garde.

Yet when he's drawn to one of the libraries in the dungeons to investigate the ritual circle there and learn more from the books... he meets you.

Enki doesn't get close to people.

He keeps relationships with others, especially in these dungeons, as partnerships to benefit from.

It's never usually personal.

Enki pauses when he sees a fellow priest in front of him.

He's indifferent at first until he sees you seated by the ritual circle while reading a book.

You were most likely reading about certain rituals to call upon the gods for power or insight in these dungeons.

Not wanting to be a threat, and possible wanting to learn from you, Enki greets you.

At first the interaction is tense.

You look at him like you aren't sure if he exists.

Yet soon you snap out of it and ask about him.

"Oh, yet another priest tempted by forbidden knowledge, I see? How intriguing... care to join me? That is... unless you're foe more than friend."

After your original tense attitude between each other... you two soon become rather amiable in the library.

Enki is hesitant as he's learning everything's dangerous in this place.

But soon he sees you as not a threat in this place.

In fact, you're another way he can get closer to enlightenment with all your knowledge.

Enki would get along with you as a fellow priest for the most part due to your shared desire to learn more.

His first few encounters with you are... mixed.

He loves combing through books of spells and gods with you.

Limitless power... limitless magic... limitless knowledge.

He likes your shared goals yet is still closed-off enough to not consider you anything more than an acquaintance.

Enki's obsession speed is probably the slowest out of the main characters.

He takes a long time before considering you close to him, even if you are a fellow priest.

He just... isn't used to such connections.

He's used to going against morality, he's used to taboo.

He prioritizes necromancy and blood magic... Which makes me think, out of all the main cast, he could do horrendous things to get what he wants.

If he felt obsessed with you, which he eventually will be, there's probably nothing he wouldn't do.

You being a fellow priest seeking knowledge may actually speed up his obsession speed more than anything else.

He finds himself seeking you out in the dungeons to see what you've learned.

It's transactional, often giving each other gifts to help one another out.

Yet... Enki finds himself enjoying your presence more than he thought.

Usually with others he finds speaking to them... irritating.

Although, your conversations with one another have often involved sharing knowledge.

So that's most likely why he enjoys your presence.

He likes your presence enough to invite you deeper into the dungeons, searching for answers and knowledge together.

By the end of your shared journey... he may not even let you part from him.

He's frail yet together you two can handle yourselves with destruction and restoration spells.

Enki feels... flattered when you offer him scrolls or books to peak at.

He was originally going to learn more alone...

But now he can't help but feel anxious when you're not in sight.

Subconsciously he finds himself... protective of you.

He isn't quite sure why... but perhaps he does resent the idea of you getting hurt.

Although, if anything really did happen... who's to say he doesn't just bring you back with a ritual and incantation.

Such a thing definitely would come into play later.

He's so determined to reach enlightenment that he can't see your... hesitation.

You're on edge due to the sights you've seen, the spells you cast taxing on the mind.

In fact, it wouldn't be surprising if Enki's obsession started getting worse due to low mind.

The more spells Enki casts, the more deranged he gets due to the nature of it.

Enki's used to it, knowledge comes with a cost.

Yet as he loses his mind, he finds himself clinging to you.

He keeps you close and whispers about how you're both so close.

Soon... you both can learn all there is to offer in this world.

As you go deeper, you feel more on edge.

You knew the risks, you already knew going this deep comes with a cost...

But Enki keeps getting worse.

He keeps dragging you along, refusing to let you leave.

You can't leave... you can't leave him...

Not when you're so close.

Despite your protests, Enki's too focused on your supposedly shared goal.

When you begin to fight him, to reason...

Enki stops you.

You're both so close.

Don't you want to reach enlightenment with him?

Don't you wish to sit on the throne?

To enter the void?

When you continue to fight, to show that you'd rather leave the dungeons than stay with him...

You two fight... with the last of your health and mind...

Only for Enki to strike you down, a similar action he's done before with another one he's loved.

Personal connections... how troublesome.

He doesn't even care if he's insane at this point.

Yet he definitely loses the last of his mind when he sees you dead before him, blood trickling from your wounds and onto the cold ground.

Without too much more thinking, this would be when he makes you a ghoul.

The unfortunate part is you lose your mind... he really wishes he could avoid this...

But he's already too attached to care.

Ghoul or not, Enki's determined to keep you with him when he reaches enlightenment.

You're the only one he's allowed this close to his heart...

Perhaps there's a reason he isn't close to many as a dark priest....

#yandere fear and hunger #yandere funger #yandere enki #yandere enki ankarian

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