#I don’t even know what I would tag this with lmao

[miks-delusional-blog]

HI HI HI if you take emoji anons I’d like to be 💚!!!!

can i request something with arkham knight jason x male or gender neutral reader?? it would be so so sick if you could do something where reader is arkham knight’s medic or something, something something “you have to learn to be more careful”

sorry if this is disrespectful and you dont have to do it, but thanks for listening and best of luck with your writing !!!

Personal Medic- AK!Jason Todd x GN! Reader

A/n

Hi! You may be 💚 anon! You’re actually my first anon request :)

Also it’s okay to request what you requested, it’s not offensive at all. I’ve never written male reader before so for this request I made it GN! Every x reader that I write is GN! Unless specified as fem! Though I do wonder if I’ve accidentally coded them as fem…

I hope you enjoy this one shot, I struggled quite a bit with the ending, and I did try out another type of storyline in my drafts but this felt like the best one? Lmao if you wanted to know what the other draft was about feel free to message 🫶

Enjoy! 💞

Disclaimer! I’m not a medic/know nothing about medicine so do not take any medical advice from this post please.

Tags: fluff, strangers/friends to lovers, there’s a smooch, w.c 1623

You have to learn to be more careful.” You grumble, sewing up another bullet wound chipping his shoulder.

This has become a nightly routine.

You’d come home after a 12 Hour shift, and maybe he’d already be waiting for you in your living room with a giant slash or a gaping wound. It’s a good thing you don’t have a white couch. Just a brown, very worn down, probably older than you, couch.

“What’s the point in all this armour if you still end up like this every night?” And like every night you complain while he sits quietly watching you at work, his hand kneading the armrest.

He doesn’t usually talk too much. You’re not sure if it’s because he doesn’t like you, but he must tolerate you to always come back.

“Are you almost done?” He asks in a low voice, strained but almost soft. Not how he used to talk to you.

When he first fell on your fire escape he was covered in blood and pushed a gun at your chest, threatening to kill you if you even touched him. Now he was in your living room quiet as a mouse, no longer too shy to keep his helmet on as he let you work.

Of course you knew who he was. At this point, who in Gotham hadn’t heard of the Arkham Knight? You don’t know why you hadn’t called the police on him. You suppose it’s because he wasn’t so scary like this.

And the fact that you happened to keep finding hundred dollar bills on the coffee table after he’d left didn’t push you to really want to. Student debt and the cost of living crisis is a real bitch, some of us have to eat.

It’s probably a bad idea to have a man like this in your apartment.

You finish closing the wound, “almost good as new. Don’t tear this one. Let me see the one from last week.” you take off your gloves and set your tools down in a tray as he stripped off his chest plate.

You crouch in front of him analysing the wound. Gently pushing at his chest, “Sit up… relax a little.” Your finger brushes over the stitches. “Might have to keep them for a few more days, especially considering you tore them before. Would it kill you to have a few days rest? The more injuries you get, the harder it is for old wounds to heal.”

“I can barely take the time to sleep.” he finally looks into your eyes. Blue, almost gray. And you realise how close the two of you are, as if you weren’t just sticking a needle and suture in him.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“... Few hours.”

“Few hours? Should be at least six.” You roll your eyes with a slight playfulness. “Though with your injuries, maybe eight…You need to look after yourself better.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Well excuse me, you’re the one who keeps me up. Why do you keep coming back here? Hospitals are 24/7.” You move to sit more comfortably on the couch. Your knee bumps his for a moment as your head lulls to the side, pressing your cheek against the couch cushion. A small wave of tiredness hits.

“I think you know why I can’t just go to a hospital.” He huffs. “ And you get the job done.” He sits back, his breath hitching a little from soreness.

“With a lot of complaints.”

The corner of his lip twitches up, “Certainly with a lot of complaints.”

“This isn’t exactly the most sterile environment. And I know you could easily find someone to do this more efficiently, and not in their pajamas.”

“Suppose that’s true.”

“So why do you keep coming back?”

“Why do you keep treating me?” He turns to you.

“I can’t exactly say no when you’re bleeding out on my floor.”

“But you’ve never called the police on me.”

“...yeah…so?” You get a little embarrassed.

He smiles, it’s almost wicked.

“You’re good at bribing me.” you huff softly, “I’m in debt, I was living paycheck to paycheck. Now I can buy triple-ply toilet paper and buy a sweet treat once a week without breaking the bank.”

“What’s your ‘sweet treat’ this week?”

“... It’s stupid.”

He raises a brow. “Just tell me.”

You cross your arms, and shy away. “...Lego.”

“Lego? How old are you five?” he teases.

“Well five year olds shouldn’t play with Lego cause it’s a choking hazard. And I told you it was dumb.” You feel the heat rise to your face.

“So…That’s it?” he raises a brow.

“What do you mean ‘so that’s it?’”

“I don’t know… thought you’d get yourself something nicer.”

“Those things are nice. It improves my quality of life.”

“Lego and Triple-ply is improving your life?“

“My ass appreciates it. The tripe-ply, not the Lego.”

He chuckles. A real laugh. It’s the first time you’ve heard it and it almost makes you freeze.

It’s deeper than you thought it might sound. Though you’ve never really thought about what his laugh might sound like. But seeing him smile, a genuine amused smile… your chest feels warm.

After a beat, you sit up. “You never said why you keep coming back here. Like why you really come here.”

He take a moment to think of an answer. “I don’t really know… maybe because I know I shouldn’t… and I know you’ll never turn me away.” He almost sounds ashamed, no, guilty.

It catches you off guard. To think a man like the Arkham Knight can feel guilty. Especially after watching the news recently. But, the more you think about it, he was quite considerate of you.

He’d always try to help clean up after you’d treat him, which you’d have to push him back to the couch if he had a particularly gnarly wound. He’s never forgotten to give you money after seeing you. Always enough to replace the medical supplies used plus at least a hundred dollars.

“So… what I’m hearing is that you like my company?”

“Yeah.” He can’t seem to look at you.

“You know… I’d rather see you without so many injuries.” You say quietly.

“But then I wouldn’t-“ he pauses before looking up at you. Those eyes. You see he tenses a little before trying to relax. “I wouldn’t be able to see you… if I wasn’t injured.”

His admission makes you soften. The Arkham Knight wasn’t one to be vulnerable with you, or anyone you figure. Even though you’ve seen him without the helmet a hundred times, he’s always worn an emotional mask, and he’s never told you his name. A sarcastic nonchalant barrier, which you weren’t sure was to protect you or him.

You take a breath. “You can come here when you’re not injured too.”

“…Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“I mean, why would you want me here? I’m not exactly good company.”

“You’re alright.”

“Just ‘alright’?” He feigns offense, but the corner of his mouth twitches up.

“I like your company.”

“Not just the Lego and the triple-ply?” He’s teasing you.

“I like those things, but… I think I’d be okay without them…” Your gaze wanders to the window. “Though, if you were to just never come back again… maybe I wouldn’t be okay with that.” You sigh, reflecting. “You’ve been coming around here for a while now… a year in a month. I think I’d be… quite sad if you decided to never come back. But I’d understand. I’m not the best medic out there. Sometimes I struggle with treating you… and I worry that what if there’s an injury too bad that I can’t treat here in my apartment? I really wish you’d be more careful, that I didn’t have to treat a wound every time you came by.”

You take a breath you’d hadn’t realised you’d been holding. “I’d hate it if… you died here… or if you died at all. I find myself watching the news more, so I know you’re okay. You probably think it’s stupid… some rando-person you barely know always so worried about you…”

Sometimes you say things you don’t mean to admit. But he’s always been a good listener.

It’s quiet, other than the hum of your fridge and cars passing by your apartment. Now you’ve done it, haven’t you? Said too much. Weirded him out. Annoyed him. Been too—

“You’re not some random person to me.” He places a hand on your knee.

You look back at him. Even he seems a little surprised by his gesture, but he decides to commit, scooting closer to you.

“I like your company too… I like a lot about you.” His eyes almost avert before he catches himself, staring deeply into your eyes.

Maybe his eyes are a little more blue than grey.

“I’d… never come here with something you couldn’t fix…I wouldn’t do that to you. And I don’t plan on dying here or anywhere else so you don’t gotta worry about that.”

You nod, falling silent.

He’s so close.

Your eyes lower to his lips before averting away. There’s no way you just thought about kissing him. That would be insane, right? But before you can even be embarrassed, he cups your jaw, turning your face to him and kisses you.

You freeze, not fully processing what’s happening. When you stiffen, it scares him and he pulls away.

He lets go of you in a panic, “Sorry- I thought-“

You stop him, taking his wrist, “Don’t- don’t stop…please.” You lean in close again.

Jason cups your jaw again before pressing his lips against yours. And it makes you think, maybe being his personal medic wasn’t so bad.

[yunieful]

midnight stealth (ver 1.1)

synopsis: Saph certainly couldn't let her charge have to be the one to find the brooch. As her guardian, she had a responsibility, a duty. Considering how Sylus has treated them, though, she plans to have some fun with it.

tags: saph did not wanna behave, tho she's kind of a wild card, when u remember past selves sometimes that self just APPEARS, and u spin the wheel of bs suddenly, mechanical limbs mentioned, suggestive if u squint, we do not shake mephisto like a maraca in this, saph knows how to do...things, the self-indulgence continues, only some small angst, shenanigans ensuing, sylus is caught off-guard like One time, very rare for him, luke & kieran obligatory appearance, sylus may just be slightly ooc again, u think i can always read men good??, also he's an angy boy at the start we know that pairing: sylus/original characters, sylus/non-mc character words: 4k

a/n: oh look what we have here i'm just gonna post the smallest bit of lore so this makes a bit more sense LMAO. that's it tho. i needed this thing out of my drafts because i'm beginning to obsess over it. i need to try and post more fics without PANICKING...but too late i post this and flee-

The water is still running, but she doesn’t think it’s for much longer. Her hands dare to peruse through the cabinets, but she doesn’t find anything.

Figured as much.

She’s suspected for a long time already that the brooch has to be on him. Where else would it be? He wouldn’t hide it separated from him. Maybe it’d be among his clothes, she muses, when she strokes the fabrics with her only arm (not made of metal), but she knows better.

He seems to think they don’t know better.

Caw, caw.

Her eyes trail over to the familiar mechanical crow.

“You wouldn’t happen to tell me out of the goodness of your heart?” Mephisto lifts his head up high, turning away. She chuckles softly, smiling. “I understand. It’s probably best you don’t. A pretty bird shouldn’t worry himself with these deals.” Gently, she places a gloved hand under his chin, giving it a few scratches. Mephisto makes noises that sound pleased. “I doubt compliments would sway you, but I still mean it.”

A noise is heard in the shower, and her hand quickly leaves the crow’s chin. She hides with the same speed. Typically, it’d be as a creature, but based on what’s happened the other three times—she’s running out of choices.

Sylus steps out of the shower, and she can’t deny she’ll take a peak, letting her eyes wander.

She knows some part of her, deep down, finds it strange. Strange that he isn’t covered in scales, no tail, no wings, or horns on his head. He likely got good at hiding it, like Saph and the others have with their own. Though not all of us have all that.

Some water droplets trickle along his skin, and her view makes an emphasis on the bit of chest she saw, trailing down to his abs. He’s still incredibly fit. What she’d give to trail the last of her claws she has down his chest—the predator in her needs to calm down.

No dawdling. She breathes deeply and blinks rapidly, as if it’ll fully push those fantasies away. I should just leave now and come back later. I can’t do much right now.

The phone rings, and she stiffens.

By the shadow…

Of course she turns to watch Sylus answer the phone, curious as to who is even calling him at this hour.

“Mr. Sylus, we found a list of all the attendees from that night at The Nest,” some man says on the other line.

Her brows rise, while Sylus hums.

“About that night…”

It might be best to try to listen in. As a guardian, she needs to find out if this has anything to do with her charge.

Her steps fight to be as quiet as they can be, when these mechanical limbs aren’t exactly easy to try and sneak with. 

Clink.

She sighs heavily. That particular step was too loud.

A catched breath, and she quickly turns her head to find Sylus looking down at her—very amused by her presence. He’s smirking.

Of course he is.

“Mr. Sylus?” The person on the other end asks.

Sylus’s response is quick, not looking away from her for one second. “It’s nothing. Just a stray cat who happened to barge in.”

“A cat?”

She’s lifted into the air as the familiar black and red mist wraps around her wrists too.

“Tying people up has always been a kink of yours, hasn’t it?” She makes sure to practically purr this from her lips. While she may be the one tied up, she can still have some amusement of her own.

“Uh.” The person over the line sputters. “I-I’ll leave you alone now…!”

Sylus scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything while setting her down.

Saph merely shrugs.

“This is the fourth time we met since last night, kitten.”

That’s the nickname he’s taken to calling her, it seems. Nova took it very poorly (for good reason), and then Sylus had mentioned off-handedly during one of the few friendly discussions they had that a particular client he worked with took it even worse than Nova did.

She could guess easily on who that was.

Didn’t stop him from trying it on someone else, though, clearly.

“I’m surprised it’s still you,” he also mentions while perusing his vinyl records.

“You set a time limit for finding the brooch, but you didn’t say how or who needed to find it.” Her next words are sure, confident. “I doubt I’m breaking any rules.”

“Do I need to remind you about your so-called ‘methods’ from before?”

No, he didn’t have to.

The first attempt had been, of course, in her cat form. A form she had been proud to learn through her grandmother’s teachings. Being able to excel at least in this form of magic, if nothing else, proved useful. A cat had been a more difficult form to achieve when she was young, in comparison to becoming a mouse (or rat), or even her most notable—the white raven.

She’d been able to look through a few cabinets and under places until he caught her. Dragged her out and placed her outside his room. (She’s sure he debated throwing her out.)

The other form had been a mouse, and she couldn’t help but peruse his books and records out of curiosity, till he found her in the middle of cleaning. She sat atop of his feather duster, and he shook his head while trying to fight a smile, setting her down outside.

And the very last time had been as the white raven.

That had just been for fun. She figured already he’d keep the brooch on his person somewhere. She got to make a noise and spook him ever so slightly.

Somewhere along the way the brooch hadn’t been the only goal. Besides wanting to keep Nova safe and away from him (for now), she couldn’t help but be curious with some things he has or does in this life now. He really loves music, for one thing, and a part of her wonders if that has anything to do with a certain person or two. Another thing is discovering a boxing book or two among his belongings. Making her wonder if there can ever be a time he and Nova spar at one point.

If he stops acting like this.

She can easily guess why he is.

“Have I underestimated your determination or overestimated your intellect.”

That isn’t even a question, especially with the clipped tone he’s using.

“You’re the one who struck a deal.” Her head tilts at him, eyes narrowed. “You haven’t been enjoying my little visits? I swore the very last one had you tickled.”

His own eyes narrow back. “Ravens are not the same as crows.”

“No, but they’re still a corvid.” Her eyes fixate on a part of his chest. Nope, stop it. Concentrate. “Both very smart.”

“And yet not always smart enough to find certain trinkets.”

Saph chuckles lowly at that. “I’ll find it when I want to.” Just a bit longer like this, and perhaps she can—

The feeling is always like ice trailing up her arm, seeping through her veins. After a sharp breath, she struggles with the mist enough that it breaks apart, when willing it to loosen.

Sylus’ eyes widen, and she stands to her feet.

“This raven will find this crow’s treasure soon.” Her lips form a bright smirk. “Best be prepared for it.” While turning on her heel, she says, “Don’t worry, I can see myself out.”

Saph doesn’t give him any opportunity to respond. Her face loses any form of amusement when she turns away, breath slightly shaky when she closes the doors to his room.

That was a very rare opportunity, she thinks, while looking down at her hands. They tremble slightly, while the mechanical one twitches a little.

Just breathe, she tries to remind herself. Black wisps rise from the mechanical arm, but she’s quick to breathe again and have that dissipate.

She is truly running out of choices. Spreading herself thin from these encounters.

Glancing over at the closed doors, her right hand tightens and forms a fist against her chest.

The next time she goes in there, that will be it. She will get that brooch, no matter what.

“Whoa, are you okay?”

Saph blinks while sharpening her sword. They had come in earlier, but for what she had no idea. She didn’t mind the company anyway. A small pang would form in her chest when thinking of what they remind her of, but she never lets it go any farther than that.

Kieran makes a gesture to her face. “Your eyes…”

Her right hand rises to brush against her cheek. When she brings it down, she sees a familiar black goop.

Such a delayed response this time….

She smiles, and she tries not to think too hard on how unsettling this must look. “Of course. Don’t worry about it.” Grabbing a handkerchief from her pocket, she dabs at her eyes before sniffing. The black liquid creates such a massive stain on the cloth, as per usual. Yet she just sighs quietly and places the dirtied handkerchief back in her pocket.

This is another warning that it is truly her last chance to get the brooch from Sylus. Nova needs to attend that auction. Saph doesn’t care to go. Not even for the core that exists in her own eye.

“Are you planning to kill him for your next attempt?” Luke jokes, because it’s clear Saph will not elaborate on why her eyes are doing this based on her breezy response. And she would straight up ignore any questions if there is anything else going on with her eyes. Best to change the topic.

She snorts, pushing back some long white hair strands back over her shoulder. “Not this time.”

Out of her peripheral, the twins look at each other. Despite the masks, she can easily guess they’re scheming something diabolical over there.

“If you want to do something else then,” Kieran starts, and she looks back up with a raised brow, “maybe we can help you.”

Saph fully stops her sharpening, flipping the blade about before placing it back in its sheath at her side. “Do tell.”

“If you want to conquer our boss’s heart, you’ll have to use a different approach.” Luke leans back in his seat, then he pulls out a book. Saph’s brow rises even higher when he opens it to a certain page. “‘For some people, they get bored once they have everything. So only those who dare to challenge their authority can catch their interest.’”

Well, that won’t be hard.

She walks over, her metal clinks loud within the room.

“‘When you’re dealing with such a person, you bow down and submit or take them out in one go. In other words—’”

Humanity & Conquest. Where do they get this stuff?

Where did they even get such a book? How did it catch their eye?

Before she can think further, a noise on the table catches her attention. Looking down, there’s a pair of handcuffs and a gun that’s splashed with light blue, pink, and black for colors. Immediately, she grabs hold for the gun, and she tries to hold in her laughter when she turns it back and forth.

Then she looks at the boys, especially when Luke is posing with his hands to look scary or like he’s about to pounce.

“Strike when they’re off guard!” They say at the same time.

They go back to their normal poses, and Saph can’t help but shake her head with a small smile on her face.

“Boss is the least guarded when he’s sleeping,” Kieran says.

Luke holds a finger up in emphasis. “You only have one shot. Don’t waste this chance.” Then he forms a fist in encouragement. “Just do it!”

Three hours later seemed like a better time than any to enact her plan.

He’s only ever waited a lifetime, I’m sure.

He could wait a little longer, if needed.

She took both the gun and the handcuffs from the boys. They certainly whipped up an interesting story, but she knew they weren’t true. Cuffs that suppressed your Evol for an hour or two to render you helpless? Please. Even just touching them, she knew they were just ordinary everyday handcuffs.

I’ll think of something.

As for the gun, well, maybe there’d be a use for it. She’s not a hundred percent sure yet.

Opening the doors as slowly and quietly as she can, she moves through and shuts them behind her.

Sylus seems to be asleep, but if he is—it looks so uncomfortable.

There’s no pillows he’s lying against. His neck will absolutely get sore like this (if it isn’t already).

And yet, when she calls for his name, he doesn’t react. He just breathes and keeps his eyes shut. The expression on his face is so serene, not a worry in the world.

As if he hasn’t spent the past few days being difficult with them both.

“He has no clue we remember,” she says quietly. “Even if we didn’t, it gives him no right to act like this.” She swiftly climbs over the bed, straddling him between her legs. Her hands pull the handcuffs back out, practically from nowhere, but there’s black tendrils following before they appear normally. It’s a risk, but she’s willing to do what she must to at least guarantee Nova gets to the auction. With some whispered words, almost kissing the handcuffs as she says them, they have the black, smokey tendrils wrap about them before returning to normal.

She feels a little cold, a little winded, but there’s no point in thinking that right now. If there isn’t that black liquid practically oozing from her eyes and nose—and she’s still conscious—she’s fine.

Fearing what he’ll do isn’t something she ever considers. As much as she doesn’t like he’s acting this way, she certainly understands. So she doesn’t cuff both of his wrists, only just one to the headboard of his bed. Once there’s a small click, she narrows her eyes at his black and red robe.

The second her fingers trail along the lining of his robe, her wrist is quickly snatched.

“Showing up uninvited at this hour…. Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

Sylus lets go of her wrist. It’s so unexpected, she just lets it fall.

“Obviously, I’m…”

Saph trails off, then she remembers again why she’s here. A smirk slowly forms on her face, and her right hand presses against the headboard right next to him. Her left hand follows on the other side. Almost like a predator locking in their prey, rendering them helpless.

But she knows better.

Sylus was never helpless and never will be.

He can easily handle himself, but she never wanted to be responsible for keeping him truly captive in some way.

She just has to play her role, and then Nova should have her opportunity. That’s when she knows she’ll have succeeded.

Whatever it takes.

She tries not to imagine her late grandmother rolling her eyes at her. (“Don’t give up everything for your charge unless absolutely necessary.”)

Well, this is a bit necessary. They have an Aether Core to locate.

“You should be the one to figure out what’s going on here.” Her mind flashes back to a different time, a different place. Just for a second. The imagery of two dragons, one black and one white, finding solace in each other when the world hated them. Sometimes the white dragon had the upper hand; other times, it was the black dragon. But they enjoyed it, finding it fun when they were together, along with others that were also cherished.

Moments like that remind her why she is not so surprised in reality, when he merely stares at her, not the least bit alarmed or scared. A part of her dares to wonder if he’s even relaxed, remembering a different time and different life, just as she is.

The jingle of the cuffs completely snaps her out of it. “Cuffs are stunting your Evol, in case you’ve been wondering why you haven’t been able to use your mist against me.”

He spares a glance at them, still not looking panicked, before turning back to her. “Really? What do you plan to do since I’ve become your prey?”

“Find the brooch for Nova, of course,” she answers easily, already having one hand trail along his shoulder, which is where his eyes flit to. “But I know you won’t just hand it over, no matter how nicely I ask.” With a mocking smirk, she tilts her head. “May I?”

He mirrors her smirk, but it’s far more amused than mocking. He gestures to himself with his free hand. “Help yourself.”

Now her other hand is away from the headboard. “Why thank you. You’re so kind.”

Something deep within already suspects she knows where it is, but there was nothing wrong with a little teetering along the edge. Playfully nipping, so to speak, in the way of conversation.

“From the beginning, you trapped us here, forced me to resonate with you once you discovered Nova couldn’t do it, and even said we’re ‘the same’.” Ironic, since she’s not the one with half his soul. Her right hand runs along his side, the left one now just resting on the bed when finding nothing on that side. “One wouldn’t treat a stranger like that, so…”

Her gaze is directly at him. “You must hate us. Hate her. Hate me.”

Hate Nova for cursing Sylus with immortality. Hate the both of them for showing up, looking like they don’t remember a thing. Hate Saph for acting overly familiar, toying with him so freely and not being the slightest bit intimidated by him. Hate them both for showing, after all this time, his efforts were for nothing. Just a waste of time.

When that is anything but the truth.

Sylus doesn’t say anything for a second, and nothing in his expression really changes, but it doesn’t discourage her. “Astonishing misunderstanding,” he says.

That makes her deeply chuckle. “Certainly. In fact—”

Once she’s planning to trail his other shoulder with her hand, a choked sound escapes her. A pang resonates in her chest, feeling like a sharp piece of ice is digging its way in. She breathes deeply, grinding her teeth together while turning to the side.

“Cat got your tongue?”

He’s still making jokes, even when she’s like this, but all it does is make her laugh, which inevitably brings up a cough. The enchantment hasn’t even been going on for that long. Yet she has to take out her handkerchief again to cough into it, because she felt the sludge rising again. She checks her nose and even her eyes, but thankfully there doesn’t seem to be anymore of the black liquid oozing out other orifices.

Saph catches her breath eventually, placing the handkerchief away and turning to face Sylus again.

She swears, for just a second—just a split second—he looks concerned.

But then it’s gone, replaced by what she guesses just to be indifference at this point.

With a wave of her hand, the cuff unlocks, and black mist rises from it before dissipating.

She expected Sylus to grab her by now with his Evol, but instead his hand falls, and he stares at her questionably.

“You’re letting me go?”

Saph nods. “Why, yes, because I just realized something.”

If a treasure is important enough, it would be kept close.

“I don’t need to restrain you,” she continues.

Very close.

Her hands trail delicately around his chest. Sharp claws once trailed there, admiring draconic beauty. Still beautiful, no matter what he is. “I know exactly where you’d keep it now.” Her fingers slide across to his robe, with her lips moving against his ear. Her voice is low, smooth, sultry. Hoping to have it sound like silk against his skin. “Somewhere close,” she searches under the lining, “to your heart.”

The brooch is grabbed, depicting a crow on the border with a red gem as the main piece.

“Huh,” she takes a moment to admire it once she pulls back enough, twisting it back and forth. “Red. Like,” she dares to spare a quick glance, “rubies, I see.” And she makes sure to look right into his eyes when she says that.

It barely takes a second for realization to cross his face.

Then another to grab her wrist and flip them around, with her under him instead.

Her breath only hitches slightly, but she’s staring resolutely, knowing full well what she just said to him. What it meant.

“You remember?”

The hope that dares to twinkle in his eyes. It’s small, but she can spot it. No more resentment against her, no anger, no irritation.

Oh, but they can’t do this. Not now.

I’m not ready.

She feigns confusion. “Remember what?”

She ignores the pang in her chest.

He narrows his eyes, irritation returning in its familiarity. “You—”

It’s that moment, when Saph decides to do at least one more thing that she hopes won’t send her coughing (or worse). She reaches into the shadows, finding the gun she put away, and makes sure to place it right into her free hand.

Aiming next to Sylus head, she pulls the trigger.

LOVE.

In such a lovely shade of pink, shaped into a heart.

How sweet.

She giggles, just finding it absolutely amusing how Sylus seems to have been caught off guard for a second. He’s right back to glaring at her, though, and she just shrugs and glances at her right hand. The brooch is held tight, with Sylus’s hand practically eclipsing hers.

“Well, aren’t you gonna put it on me?”

A part of her can’t deny it is fun. To act playful with him, like she would in another time, making sure to gently tease and bite, because laying bare the entire truth? No, it’d just make things worse. Hurt them both.

She has a duty to fulfill, and she can’t abandon it.

When did that duty include locking your heart away?

The thought is quickly snuffed from her mind. Her right hand opens fully, and Sylus grabs the brooch, releasing a sound between scoffing and laughing under his breath. She’s not sure if he’s annoyed at all or not, but she dares to hope he enjoyed it. Just a little.

“I thought you said this was for Nova,” he starts placing it on her anyway.

“It’ll be easier to carry. I only have one actual hand, you know.”

A poor excuse, in actuality.

But she thinks saying she just wants his hands on her would be taking this way too far.

And, no, she will not question how true that is for her or not.

“So, does this count as passing your test?” She continues after he puts it on. Now she’s able to sit up while he sits some ways from her, not completely above her anymore. “One of us achieved the goal, after all. I say it counts.”

He scoffs, shaking his head, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his face. “Barely. The auction is about to start, but what will happen after that…”

“Nova will be ready for whatever is going on down there.” She will never underestimate her charge. “Just don’t give me a reason to shift into human form during.” Because it’s already a given that she will be there, just not as a human.

“Deal.” Without turning to her, his eyes glance down to the brooch. “Don’t lose this brooch. It proves you’re allowed to come and go in the N109 Zone as you please.”

“Me?” She frowns. “Nova’s the one going with you.”

He raises a brow. “Are you actually saying you won’t be there?”

Oh, he’s definitely teasing her this time.

Saph rises from the bed and clicks her tongue. “I believe a crow needs a raven on his trail. But, first, we must send for the dove.” She turns and walks out, relieved that she’d finally been able to get that brooch. Now Nova could attend the auction, and they could continue with the mission.

[tiredwiredanduninspired]

I know it’s been said a lot before and a lot better than how I’ll say it

But, I hate how algorithm based everything is now. Humans are being pushed out of control on every social media platform and the ai’s running it have been so trained to sanitise everything. And now it’s just like so depressing to see

I’ve been using tumblr as my main social media for years, but recently I’ve been avoiding tiktok and instagram (mostly to help me focus on work). However, I had time to kill and wasn’t in the mood for reading so I went on tiktok since it’s been awhile. And a bsd skit account I like came up and I was enjoying it but then they said ‘unalive’ instead of ‘dead’ and it just slapped me in the face beciase I forgot how controlled the language is on that app. I had a Batfam post come up as well and dick graysons name was fucking censored. And it’s so depressing- bc death is a natural part of life but god forbid people acknowledge it

It’s just been irking me recently. Tumblr has its problems but at least we can say dead and fuck and whatever word we bleeding we’ll want to

Sorry for the soapbox rant ✌️

[keferon]

Please tell me Swindle is an actual Gnome in your Spellbound AU

There’s two types of Anons out there

One wants Swindle to be a dragon. Because. gold and greed.

Other wants him to be a gnome. Because. Well. Lmao

I offer you this secret third option where he gets to be a hybrid of both.

Because of his dragon half he is very fucking hard to kill and can breathe fire although he doesn’t have wings.

And then because of his gnome half he’s small OH AND turns into stone under the sun?

[10-59]

something stupid :L not-vinny and not-joel meeting

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hi ari.. i am still sick 🐑 Ive promise i will get back to sending in more of my thoughts when i can actually put them together without my mind falling apart immediately ☹️ but lately my sluggish mind has been thinking about satoru .. so maybe you can share some of your thoughts on him ? could be anything ! i just rlly like hearing about him .. i hope you’re doing well and as always don’t push yourself too hard <3 make sure you’re taking care of yourself

LAMBNON :(((………. please take care of yourself!!!!!! don’t worry about sending asks, you should know i care about your health more than anything !!!!!! please drink lots of tea and take painkillers and sleep as much as you can …. also soup. eat soup.

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND >:3 sweet satoru thoughts….. wahhhhhh i was just thinking about him this morning but. i don’t know if you’re an introvert or an extrovert lambnon…… hopefully the former………. cuz i was thinking about how gojo was literally made for an introverted s/o . i think he would be so perfect. maybe even more than sugu tho i can’t explain why…

just . he really is so mature, you know ???? in an emotional sense . even if he doesn’t come off that way lmao ….. he may be loud and friendly but he can tell who appreciates it and who doesn’t. and i think he would really love being more quiet with you :’) or just talking while you listen !!!!! he’s your personal radio talk show host ….. you’re just nodding along with a smile . and he finds it so endearing. he also gets a very good sense of your social battery — and GODDDD he’s so good with you when it runs out. guides you away from crowds and parties and the like soso smoothly!!!!!! if you want to hear his voice he’ll talk, otherwise he’ll be a silent comfort . jokes about you getting tuckered out so quickly but he enjoys the fact that you have to lean on him a lil.

since he’s naturally very extroverted, i think he finds your differences precious ….. really loves learning more about you . honestly everything that is you is charming to him ……. but i do think he has a big soft spot for quiet little guys . esp if you happen to be on the shy side ……. he’ll try to guide you out of your comfort zone every now and then but he’s careful not to push too far. he’s a people person at heart!!!!

[ao3userforgets]

i need to mutter into the void so i’m going to post under the cut the trials and tribs of my current clegan fic writing experience so no one including (especially) me has to make eye contact with it. it’s basically a diary entry. god bless anyone that reads it lol. love and light 🫶

goddamn writing this fic is kicking my ass. it was just meant to be an angsty gale introspective. then i started another and that was meant to be them just fucking absolute nasty style. now i fear they have combined, morphed, metamorphosed, and it’s becoming a monster. goddamn. what does one do in this situation? it would be my first time posting in this fandom and my second time posting fic at all. i’m shaking in my boots about it. there is so much wonderful fic being posted for this pairing and so many approaches and styles. i would love to get mine out and see it amongst those works. i’m just not sure how to go about constructing this fic and how to post about it. i’d like to post some bits and pieces and maybe someone will see it and tell me it’s worth it to finish it but first and foremost i’m really writing this for myself, because it’s the type of fic i love to read and also i feel like i need to be writing it so my mind is creating something. and it would feel like a waste to me and a let down for myself if i never post it. also i’m projecting very hard onto it and onto gale as a character, so it feels kind of personal in some parts? which can’t totally be avoided but because of that and because the way i write is also very personal to me it’s making something that should be fun to post about feel quite daunting. but i want to push myself so badly because it’s been years since i’ve done that, maybe i’ve never done that. and Of Course it’s wwii yaoi that’s gotten me to this point.

anyway, y’all ever think about gale identifying as a more feminine being than is expected for a man like him in the time he’s in, thus manifesting itself into years of repression he’s not entirely aware of until he meets and grows closer to bucky, and how he comes to terms with being awakened in such a way that has laid dormant until he’s in the literal u.s. military, and eventually in one of the least survivable theatres of the war, and in suffocating proximity day in and day out with one john bucky egan? and how he navigates his bond with marge, now in contrast to how he feels for john? and how even his childhood and the lives of his parents is being pushed forwards in his consciousness in relation to his sense of self and his place in the lives of others? oh and also how absolutely Biblically he wants john, in the most unconventional and all encompassing ways? all while he has no context for queerness and sexuality as it relates to himself? i dunno what freak would be into writing or reading that 👀 🚬💀

[4xolotlscantread]

Yeh I just wanted to draw some more QSMP characters during school that I don’t usually draw. I don’t draw Niki too much which is sad cause her character is so fun to design, also birb AND cartoon Jaiden muwahahaha (I have no idea how to take pictures of irl art

[elizabethzoopzoop986]

I thought I just stumbled upon Alive Tsukasax Fem Akane fanart but it turns out it was just there oc I can put my disappointment into words…

Anyway if you read this I triple dog dare you to write this concept (AliveTsuxFemAka) a fanfic. (Idk if you remember playground rules, but you can’t not do a triple dog dare)

[possiblyfunny]

Hey, look guys, more art-

HOPE.

I’ve been wanting to draw him like this ever since I first saw him smile, but my will to draw eluded me until now! This started off as a doodle, so, please excuse the messiness. I drew this to de-stress.

“Fire” Red belongs to @creatively-cosmic. They have a blog called @themissingnumbers, which is really good! Go check it out if you want to see more.

[Sketch + Colored Version below the cut!]

[solmicans]

recently getting anything done talking to anyone having any responsibility or going anywhere has required me to gently tell myself “I know we wish we were weeping despondent facedown on the floor but like you can’t do that so we gotta put the mask on and get to it”

[doctorsiren]

I can’t imagine the number of weird asks you get as a artist. As someone whos learning to draw i both admire and feel sorry for the sheer amount of drawing stuff you do/probably are asked to do. Your art is great, but i hope ur not burning out with all the good stuff you’ve been posting lately from asks n stuff

I have over 1000 asks in my inbox, and there are some weird ones for sure

When it comes to asks for me to draw things, it’s actually pretty nice because hey uh yeah free ideas! But also sometimes there is that pressure, but i’ve learned that hey I don’t need to answer every ask I get and I also don’t need to draw something for every ask y’know?

When I need something to draw to keep me busy for whatever reason, I can just look in my askbox and usually find something, so I’m always grateful for any asks that I get!

[cuteniarose]

ATLA for the ask game!!

*stares blankly at my screen as I try to remember the last time I've felt any strong emotion for an AtLA character*

(no genuinely those guys just kinda Exist to me istg I’m not invested even when I’m actively rewatching the show)

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most) – This one’s easy: Azula. One does not simply go through their teenage years as a severely mentally ill girl with a shitty dad and emotionally absent mom who favours the other child and end up normal about Azula lmao. I need any and every canon media to leave her the fuck alone. No I do not have a vision as to what happens to her post canon. Yes I do think that what the creators went with sucks ass and thus is not canon in my multiverse thank you very much

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) – Appa. Just Appa. As a bonus, baby Appa. I need a plush of him more than I need to breathe (though Hanička might get to it so.. how good that idea is may be debatable). Oh, and The Duke. Have you ever seen him hugging Toph in the background of the last episode (I believe)?? Babies, absolute babies, they deserve the world, your honour

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave) – …. Mai? I feel like Mai doesn’t get enough love in the fandom. My current objective is trying to get the friend I’m making watch AtLA for the first time like her :P

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week) – Okay, I’m gonna be honest, I’ve thought over this one for a good 20 minutes and haven’t been able to come up with anything because I Genuinely Do Not Care That Much, but during this past rewatch I’ve been doing with my friends I have had a *Leonardo DiCaprio pointing meme* moment at every reference to Yangchen thanks to A CERTAIN SOMEONE, so… might not be me who never shuts up about her, but she still counts (though I did go on a small infodump when my friend asked me “which one’s that one?” during the Avatar State montage in Book 2 Episode 1, so… perhaps there is more of a case to be made here). Oh, and Smellerbee. I wanna know what Smellerbee’s deal is. No one ever talks about Smellerbee :/

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) – Hama. Partially for Ming-Hua related reasons, partially because I’m obsessed with the concept of bloodbending (and yet cannot give two shits about Amon or Tarrlok 🤔 Hm, correction: the concept of bloodbending women :D), partially because I wholeheartedly believe that she was brought back to the South Pole and she and Kanna got to be lesbians together for whoever many years they had left – side note, how come every bloodbending woman is a lesbian? – and there’s a certain subsection of the fandom who have proven to not be able to be normal about victims of colonisation, hence the “problematic” category. (Also… not a character, but the Great Divide is a fun episode and you all are way too mean about it. Yes, it does have some.. questionable implications, but all the arguments about how it doesn’t further the plot are stupid as fuck because IMO, if we have time for half a dozen random Fire Nation adventures and a whole episode dedicated to Zuko’s sob story and the trashfire that Ember Island Players is, we have time for the Great Divide. Argue with a wall)

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) – Zuko. This is because I do not like him. No further commentary lest this fandom tear me to pieces. And Jet. This is also because I do not like him. And Sokka. But I actually do like him, I just think it’s funny when he suffers (/affectionate)

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) – Pakku. It has been 11 years since I watched AtLA for the first time and never once have I been convinced that Kanna actually married him. Absolutely not, to superhell with you. If there’s any NWT waterbender who deserves to get with Kanna, it’s Yugoda. Hama/Kanna/Yugoda polycule when???

[hana-bobo-finch]

i am one day late to my own character’s birthday but whatever better late than never. this image popped up in my head last night and I felt obligated to make it

for context Tornado is the name of the only social networking site on fincg island and C.C. is. very into the occult and would definitely think this is a halfway decent thing to do (it is not)

og

[checkadii]

Horribly easily to tell if my dads drunk

[satrs]

Baby, Baby!

SYNOPSIS; Babyfever with the l&ds men<3

FEATURING; ZAYNE. XAVIER. SYLUS. RAFAYEL. CALEB. xfem!reader

TAGS; ADULT/NSFW CONTENT. MDNI! unprotected intercourse, smegual intercourse. br$$ding. creampi. heavy dörtytalk. extremely pathetic crybaby caleb alert!!!. mention of kids, duh!. doggy in rafs. mating press in sylus'. spooning in xaviers. cowgirl in calebs.

✎ A/N; FUCK SWEETIES! FINALLY FINISHED THIS!! I thought I'd see the pearly gates before I get to live this day LMAO. Couldn't stop thinking about my babytrapper!Caleb post, so this came out of it ^^ This might be my fav work yet ngl hehe

ZAYNE ✰ How to make a Baby 101!

"You",

Zayne stops himself as he takes a deep breath, a grunt rumbling in his throat, "You want a baby?"

It's as if you could read his mind. He's been thinking about this—about a baby—for quite a while now, seeing it as a next step after your established wedding. You're his love — his darling wife, so it only seemed it would be natural for you both to consider this next big step in your life.

Zayne loomed over you, his gaze dark, smoldering, and consuming. His breath was ragged, uneven, his hands trembling as they gripped your thighs, spreading you open beneath him.

Your eager nod was all it took for him to stuff his entire length inside you in one swift motion, feral, low grunt erupting from the depths of his lungs.

"l'll give it to you. Gonna-" he stops himself with a hiss, hips stuttering at your greedy grip onto his dick, "Gonna give my sweet darling a baby."

"P-please Zayne. Need it soooo bad!"

A helpless, broken mewl spilled from your lips as your nails clawed into his shoulders, heels digging into his back in a desperate attempt to pull him in deeper. His body shuddered at your neediness, at the way you begged so sweetly, so pathetically.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, strained, like he was holding himself back. Like he was fighting the urge to ruin you completely.

His fingers traced along your jaw, down your throat, until his hand traced circles on your belly. His lips parted, his tongue darting out to wet them as he stared down at you like you were something he could devour whole.

"You always let me have you like this," he rasped, his hips rolling forward, stretching you open inch by inch over and over again. "Like you were made for me."

You gasped, back arching, hands flying to his biceps, gripping tight, and Zayne let out a deep, guttural groan. His head fell forward, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath fanning over your lips as he pushed deeper, until there was no space left between you.

"Fuck," he hissed, his teeth gritting and his hands clutching at your waist like he was trying to ground himself. "Can’t hold back when you’re like this."

His hips snapped forward, the sudden movement pulling a shaky moan from your lips, and he drank it in like a man starved.

His pace was slow, deep, and precise—savoring the cramped space of your cunt, memorizing every pulse, every clench, and every desperate little noise you made.

"You feel that?" he whispered, pressing his circling hand down against your stomach, his touch firm, possessive. "Feel how deep I am?"

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice dropping into something low, rough, almost dangerous. "Nobody else gets to have you like this." His teeth nipped at your earlobe, his breath shuddering. "Nobody else ever will."

And when he pulled back—just enough to see the way you were falling apart beneath him—his lips curled into a dark, satisfaction.

"Mine."

The gluttonous vibration of his voice startled you almost, his mouth hot against your neck as you both simultaneously come undone, rolling your puffy clit between his digits to ride out your high.

But he wouldn't stop cumming - he couldn't. He has to make sure you take it. Fat spurts of cum paint your walls completely, pumping the oh-so familiar fluid into your womb.

"You'll be the best mother ever- fuckkk." He continues to ram his now spent cock into you, growing full erect again, the thought of your pregnant form just plastered before his vision.

You huffed, trying to shove at his chest, but the wicked smirk on his lips only deepened. Voice dripping with something dark and sweet, "I think I should go for another shot, just to be sure."

And a crazed smile creeps up his usually nonchalant features at your aghast expression, quick to plaster a sweet, dotting kiss to your plump lips.

He rolled his hips, slow, deep, deliberate, pushing his seed deeper and deeper into you, and he knew that this really didn't make any difference on the outcome from a medical state point but right now everything in him screamed to pump you full.

One thing is for certain, though— you're not coming out of this not pregnant with his child. Or maybe in plural as in children? Yeah, that sounds way better.

"Yeah," he chuckled against your skin, pressing a kiss to your jaw,

"One more for good luck."

XAVIER ✰ Oopsie-Daisy!

The first thing you felt was warmth—the heat of Xavier’s body pressed tight against yours, his arm heavy and unyielding over your waist, keeping you right where he wanted you. Even in sleep, he held you close, like he couldn’t stand the thought of you slipping away.

You weren’t sure how long he’d been awake, but the lazy caress of his fingers over your stomach told you he’d been lingering in this moment, taking his time. Soft, slow circles, the barest drag of his fingertips across sensitive skin—teasing, testing.

A slow roll of his hips, and suddenly you did feel it—the firm, heavy weight of his cock dragging through your slick folds, grinding right up against your clit.

A sharp gasp left your lips as he did it again, long and deliberate, letting the thick head of his cock glide through the wet mess he was making of you.

His fingers dragged lower, barely brushing over your clit before pulling away—keeping you right at the edge, keeping you desperate.

“You’re not leaving this bed ‘til you’re full," he promised, his cock sliding against you again, so damn slick, so damn hard. "So damn full you got no choice but to take, take, take.”

His breath, warm and steady, ghosted over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He must’ve felt it because a low chuckle rumbled in his chest.

In one swift motion he slides into you with ease, walls clenching around the all too familiar girth, his leaking pre smeared onto your insides.

"Mm-mm," he tsked, his gravelly voice thick with amusement. "Ain’t no runnin’ now, baby. You’re right where I want you."

His grip tightened slightly, his palm pressing just a little firmer against your stomach, like he wanted to hold you there, to remind you exactly who had you like this. His nose brushed against your jaw, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed a slow, teasing kiss beneath your ear.

"Feel me in there?" he murmured, voice thick with possession. "All deep inside you, right where I belong."

His hand flexed, fingers splaying wider, pressing down just enough to make you feel every inch of him buried inside you.

"Tell me you love it," he whispered, his lips dragging down your neck, teeth grazing your skin. "Tell me you love bein’ mine. That you love me fillin’ you up like this."

Your breath hitched, and the second you whimpered out, "Hhnnn! — I love it when you fill me up, love you—"

Xavier growled low in his throat, his arm tightening around you, pulling you impossibly closer as his hips snapped forward in a slow, aching thrust.

"Damn right you do," he murmured, a smirk pressing against your skin.

Your breath hitched as his hips rolled forward, pressing his already-hard cock against your dripping heat between your thighs. A knowing chuckle rumbled through his chest.

"You want me to fill you up, don’t you? Fuck a baby into you?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but the second his fingers gripped your hips, the moment he rolled his own against you—

A small, broken gasp slipped out instead.

„Everyone's gonna know. They’ll know your mine. They’ll— goddd your squeezing me so damn tight, I can’t—„ his nonstop rambles only continue, accompanied by the lewd sounds echoing off the walls.

His breathing turns rapid, hooded eyes fixed onto your tummy, propping one strong leg onto the bed to sink deeper into you.

His chest pressed flush against your back, warm and solid, trapping you in his arms, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, giving him the perfect angle to bury himself deeper, harder, where you needed him most.

His hands—god, his hands—one pressed firmly against your stomach, splayed wide over your lower belly, like he could already feel himself inside you, claiming you from the inside out. The other? Sliding lower, fingers teasing along your inner thigh, thumbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you cry out.

"Well," he breathed, lips brushing against your ear, voice dripping with pure sin, "who am I to deny my girl?"

The way your body shuddered at his words, the way you clenched down around him had Xavier groaning, curses spilling from his lips, his hips faltering for just a second before snapping forward with renewed force.

"You like that, huh?" he rasped, his fingers tightening their hold on your stomach. "Like knowing you’re mine? That no one else gets to see you like this?"

Plap. Plap. Plap.

His hips rolled, slow, deliberate, deep.

"Say it," he demanded, voice wrecked, desperate, pushing his forehead against your shoulder. "Tell me you’re mine. That I’m the only one who gets to have you like this."

His thrusts grew more frantic, his breath ragged against your ear, his grip almost bruising.

"Tell me," he rasped, grinding deep, making you feel every inch of him. And the second you did—the moment you choked out that you were his, that no one else could ever have you like this—

Xavier lost it.

His arm wrapped around your waist, locking you in place as he drove himself as deep as he could go, his body trembling against yours as he came undone.

And even as he shuddered, even as he pressed soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder, his hands never left your stomach.

Because now?

Everyone was going to know.

SYLUS ✰ Mission: Impregnable!

"A-again." His slight stutter doesn't go unnoticed by you, despite the loud echoing of his hips snapping into yours. "Say it again."

He had to have misunderstood something, right? Because if he didn't, if you really said what he thought you said- you're fucked.

You whine at his guttonal voice, his desperate hips drilling his dick further into your depths. "Wan'- oh! Wan' you to make me a mommy, Sy."

Sylus had that look in his eyes again—the kind that made your breath catch, the kind that sent a thrill up your spine. His fingers ghosted along your skin, calculating, possessive, until they found comfort with your hand interlocked with his.

"You realize," he murmured, voice low, precise, mere inches from your lips, "that biologically speaking, your body is at its most receptive right now."

You see, Sylus was no dummy. Of course, he was keeping track on your cycle. Who do you think he is? And it just so happened that today you're the most fertile.

Core burning in pure excitement, your heels dig into his lower back, eager and hungry for his seed. You whine as you feel his swollen cock bullying your poor cervix.

"Sylus-"

He silenced you with a slow, deep kiss, fingers tightening on your waist.

"And if I were to push you past your limit tonight—again and again—" his voice dipped, sending shivers down your spine, "well, statistically, the odds would be in my favor, wouldn’t they?"

Your breath caught as he tilted your chin up, making you look at him. His eyes gleamed with something dangerous, obsessive, completely focused on you.

His fingers slid down your stomach, tracing slow, calculated patterns, as if mapping out the future he was about to give you.

"I should be thorough," he mused, almost to himself. "Another round would increase the probability of success by at least—"

You didn’t get to hear the end of that sentence.

Because Sylus surged forward, lips crashing onto yours in a way that was desperate and all-consuming, like he was finally allowing himself to break past his carefully maintained restraint.

Like an unstoppable force, he slides out of you until only his crown was engulfed by your puckering hole until he slams! His entire length past your sobbing ring.

The ridiculous stretch his dick inflicts onto your poor pussy is otherworldly, almost unbelievable. As he forces his girthy inches further into you, a noticeable bulge appears on your tummy.

And oh boy, does he notice it.

All it takes is one glance — one look of those rubies of his— downwards to the gradually growing imprint of his tip meanly poking against your tummy, and he snaps.

His big arms reach for your legs and in almost an instant, you’re folded into the meanest, nastiest mating press known to man.

„O-Oh!“ you surprised hiccup does nothing to soften his antics — quite the opposite. A feral grunt erupting from the depth of his lungs lets you know in what condition your beloved Sylus is in.

„Twins. I‘ll give you twins.“

"Ah!- T-twins!?"

He‘s gone mad.

What's left of him is a disheveled mess, crazed out mind deadest on pumping you full of his gooey load, even if it's the last thing he'll do.

"Yes. Two sweet little girls, just as beautiful as their mother."

His massive frame caged you in, your thighs now folded up to your chest, leaving you completely at his mercy. His body was trembling, slick with sweat, but his grip on you was ironclad. He wouldn’t let you run, wouldn’t let you escape—not from him, not from this.

His chuckle swells your heart with so much love you can barely breathe. Or was it because of his dick reaching so ridiculously far up into you, you could almost feel him in your throat? Both perhaps.

Flaming eyes, usually so warm and gentle, were wild now—dangerous, obsessive. This wasn't your Sylus anymore. This is the leader of Onychinus—conquering and claiming everything he desires.

And at this moment, his desire was to make you the mother of his offspring.

"There," he growled, his voice raw, almost a snarl. "That’s where I need to be. Need to be deeper—need to—fuck—"

His hips snapped forward, sharp, relentless, sending white-hot pleasure sparking through your veins. Lips were parted, panting, his expression one of pure, animalistic need.

Your head lulled back, words failing you, but he wasn’t having that. His fingers wrapped around your jaw, forcing your gaze back to him.

"Stay with me," he pleaded in a whimper, his voice thick, strained. His thrusts were turning frantic now, sloppy, desperate, like he was losing control. "Wanna see your face when I fill you up."

You whimpered, and that was all it took.

Sylus let out a broken, guttural groan, his body shuddering violently as he bottomed out, burying his throbbing cock as deep as he could go. You could feel him— only him  — hot, thick cum spilling inside you in endless waves, stuffing you full.

And the way he was still pressing his weight into you, still rolling his hips in slow, lazy circles, made you realize—

He was nowhere near done.

RAFAYEL ✰ Catching Feelings & Babies

The room was dimly lit, warm, and filled with the soft sound of ragged breaths and skin meeting skin. Rafayel’s strong hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place, keeping you exactly where he wanted you—where you belonged.

"You look so perfect like this," he murmured, voice deep and rich, like he was admiring a piece of fine art. Like you were something sacred. His fingers traced over the dip of your spine, down to where you stretched around him, taking him so beautifully.

"B-been waitin' for this sooo long baby, finallyyyy." Breathless, he pounds his hips against your plump ass again, again and again. His repeated movement rams you deeper into the soft cushion.

Rafayel’s hands were gentle, reverent, gliding over your heated skin, like you were something fragile and precious.

But his eyes?

Dark and Deep. Filled with something unshakable.

Your body arched instinctively, seeking more, needing more, and Rafayel only chuckled—low, dark, and knowing.

A broken gasp tore from your throat, your fingers clutching the sheets, barely able to hold yourself up as he pressed even deeper, stretching your hole to the very limit.

"Shhh, love," he soothed, one hand sliding up your back, pressing between your shoulder blades. "Let me take care of you."

He rolled his hips in slow, deep strokes — each one hitting the perfect spot, each one meant to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

"You feel it too, don’t you?" His voice was softer than usual, thick with emotion. His fingers splayed over your lower stomach, pressing just enough to make you feel every pulsating vein of his, every knock against your cervix.

"Y-yes", you swallowed hard, head spinning in circles while nodding. A slow, warm smile curled his lips, but beneath it was something more dangerous. Something primal.

"Good."

"That’s it," Rafayel praised, his voice like liquid gold, soothing and possessive all at once. "Take all of me. Let me give you everything."

He adjusted his angle, thrusting deeper, harder, slower, dragging out every sensation until you were a trembling mess beneath him.

"Listen to her. Cryin' for me ta fill her up." He follows suit with his long finger pressed against your plump lips, consoling you. "Shhh, baby. I know, I knowww. But ya gotta hold on for me, mkay?"

You cry out his name as his hefty length hits every spot imaginable inside of you, stars appearing behind your eye sockets. "Nghhh! Rafayel, I can't!"

Dizziness overcomes you as you reach back for his beefy arm, nails clawing crescent moons into his flesh. His steady hips cause his bulging head to nudge at your gushy spot repeatedly as your juices coat his length in a glossy essence.

The lewd squelch sounding from your cunt has him in a chokehold. Each rapid thrust of his sinks your body further into the sheets, his head spinning at the obscene sight of your back in a nasty arch, his pelvis snapping against your ass, each jiggle robbing a needy sound from him.

He‘ll never get enough of this— enough of you.

"Sh-Shit, cutie. Gonna give it to ya realll good. Fill you up — f-fuckkk! Make you a mommy.“ The slight crack in his voice gets drowned out by the loud sound of his heavy balls snapping against your poor swollen clit.

Hm. Mommy has a nice ring to it.

His hand left your waist, only to wrap around your throat, pulling you up—back against his chest and you didn’t think that it could be possible for him to get even deeper, but he did. His lips brushed your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"You’re mine," he whispered, his voice a dark promise, an unshakable truth. "And when I fill you up—" he thrust harder, dragging a desperate moan from your lips—"yer' gonna stay mine forever."

And the way he was holding you so close, fucking you so deep, made you believe every single word.

He could burst right at the sight of your fucked-out face, and he starts to imagine how perfect your child would be. With your gorgeous hair and that stunning smile of yours, and—

"M‘ gonna cum! G-oshhhh please don’t stop don’t—"

She, no — they would have his eyes and—

With your head leaned against his shoulder, blue and pink ombre orbs fixate on your face.

His repeated shallow breaths tickle your neck, an impatient hand cups your belly, finger soothingly brushing over it, his hot breath brushing against your ear.

" Mhmmm yeahh. We’re gonna have two gorgeous girls, can’t have her be all alone, can we?“

"T-two?“ you manage to choke out in shock, only to be startled by his chuckle. "Yeahhh, you’re right. Two is too little. Four is more like it.“

The speedy plap! plap! plap! Against the valley of your ass turns irregular, needier, even.

"Four—fuck—four perfect little babies," he panted, his lips brushing over your temple, his voice thick with love and obsession. "We’ll have the perfect family, won’t we? You, me, our little ones—"

His thrusts turned sloppy, desperate, and then—his entire body locked up. A deep, wrecked groan tore from his throat, his fingers digging into your thighs as he spilled inside you, claiming you, filling you up until there wasn’t an inch left untouched.

He collapsed against your back, his weight warm, grounding, safe. His chest rose and fell in heavy pants, his lips pressing lazy, feather-light kisses along your skin.

"You’re mine," he murmured, his voice softer now, no less possessive but full of warmth. "My love, my home, my everything."

A shaky breath left you, your body spent but satisfied. "Four kids, huh?" you mumbled, exhaustion creeping into your voice.

Rafayel hummed, his arms wrapping around you, holding you impossibly close.

"Or maybe five."

CALEB ✰ Practice Makes Perfect

He must be dreaming, surely.

"Please, Caleb. Need it- need it so bad pleaseplease-"

Yeah. Because if there is heaven, fucking you raw for the first time surely is just that.

His head pressed against the bed, his breath coming in shaky, uneven pants, his hands gripping your hips so tight you were sure he’d leave bruises—but he didn’t mean to.

"So—so good," he whimpered, his voice breaking on the last syllable, like he was barely holding himself together. "D-don’t—don’t move, I can’t—"

You clenched around him, and he quite literally sobs.

He's a mess.

It's pathetic, really. Tears stream down his face as he sniffles back the waterfall from flowing. But he couldn't care less, honestly.

Scenarios of you with a round and glowing belly, the birth of your shared child, their first words, steps - hell, even their graduation. He had all of it laid out in a timeline.

If you could see his thoughts, you would've probably called him crazy. And he wouldn't even blame you.

His fingers trembled as he tried so hard to keep himself together, but he was slowly falling apart, crumbling, unraveling.

"I—" he choked on his own breath, tears pricking his lashes, his entire body shaking as your hips work faster, grinding harder against his pelvis. " ‘M too deep—too full—fuck, I can feel it—"

His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close, clinging, needy.

"Please," he begged, voice so broken, so wrecked, like he was praying to something greater than himself. "I-I wanna stay inside—I wanna stay with you forever."

His lips ghosted over your stiff nipples, soft, desperate kisses, imagining how full and plump they'll become once you're pregnant. And when you shifted the tiniest bit, he gasped—a wrecked, breathless little sound.

Your breath quickens, orgasm creeping up your spine with each rocking of your hips, desperately chasing your high.

His hips stuttered at the mere image of you - pregnant, movements turning frantic and uncontrolled, like he couldn’t take it anymore.

"C-caleb, I—" Mind going blank at one particular quick kiss against your cervix, you crash head first into your orgasm, pussy spasming around his girth.

A broken, wrecked sob tore from his throat, and you felt it—

The way his cock twitched inside you, the first thick pulse of heat spilling deep, painting your insides in long, desperate spurts.

His entire body shook, his arms wrapped around you so tightly you thought he might never let go.

"M-makin’ you a mommy," he babbled, voice thick with exhaustion, heavy with love. "Gonna—gonna make you so full, so round—"

God, he was a lost cause.

"I love you," he cried, his voice shaking, raw with need. "I love you—I love you—"

"Love you too, Caleb. You're s-so good for me. Gonna be a great papa." you spurt out in a spent, wobbly voice, body collapsing onto his in exhaustion.

And then he came. Again.

It was with a broken whimper, a desperate, wrecked sob, his entire body shaking, panting. He shoots endless ropes of cum deep into your womb, the overwhelming fullness in your tummy causing your mind to go hazy.

His orgasm was so intense and forceful, you can still feel stringy, weak cum dripping from his cock, only adding the cherry on top of your jammed vacancy.

He didn’t let go. He wouldn’t.

Even as his spent cock twitched inside you, even as his warm release dripped out in thick, messy streaks, he held you there, buried deep, unwilling to let even a drop go to waste.

His fingers clutched at your waist, desperate, like letting go would tear him apart. His chest rose and fell in quick, shaky pants, his eyes glassy, and his lips kiss-swollen and parted as he tried to catch his breath.

“P-please,” he rasped, his voice wrecked, pleading. “Don’t—don’t move yet.”

His face was flushed, his damp hair sticking to his forehead, tears clinging to his lashes. He was ruined, wrecked beyond repair, and it was all because of you.

A soft whimper tumbled from his lips as he nuzzled into your shoulder, his hands trailing weakly down your sides, needy, restless.

“Need to feel you just a little longer,” he mumbled, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “Can’t—can’t be away from you yet.”

You could feel him still twitching inside you, his cock softening, but reluctant to leave. His release seeped out around the base, warm and sticky, but he just shifted his hips, pushing deeper, as if he could keep it all inside you.

"Made for me," he murmured, feverish, pressing sloppy, lingering kisses against your shoulder, your neck. "You're made for me."

His fingers roamed lazily, tracing the shape of your hips, your waist—like he was memorizing you, worshiping you, committing every inch of your body to memory.

"Promise me," he whispered against your ear, soft and broken. "Promise me you'll never leave me. That you'll always let me have you like this."

There was a plea in his voice, raw and vulnerable, like he’d fall apart if you said no.

You ran gentle fingers through his damp hair, soothing, reassuring and tugging him even closer.

"I'm yours, Caleb," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

His breath hitched. His thighs trembled beneath you.

"Say it again," he whispered, so quietly it almost wasn't there.

"I'm yours."

A broken whimper slipped past his lips, his hands gripping you tighter, his body pressing so close you could feel every inch of him molding into you.

And with a deep, shaky sigh, Caleb finally let himself go—sinking into you, into your warmth, into the one place he always belonged.

Nowhere else. No one else.

Just you.

Always you.

©︎SATRS. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify.