#I have no molars currently

[bee-whistler]

TIL that there are people who reach the age of 52 (and I assume older), who take no particularly special care of their teeth, without ever having had a root canal.

Since the person in question is my darling husband, I am experiencing such a stomach-churning cocktail of loving gratitude and personal envious rage.

[tariah23]

And I have the toothache of all time rn

[inklore]

does it feel good?

— qimir x f!reader

premise: he is your beginning, the whole reason you have made peace with the darkness inside your head, and you know someday he may become your end. whether by his saber or by him finally consuming completely. you welcome both.

contents: established master x acolyte dynamics, shared force bond, unprotected p in v, foreplay, light choking, biting, scars and burn marks mentioned, death, teasing, over stimulation | wc: 2.7k+

note: i love that we all saw the water scene and went yeah that's for the smut writers. glad we are collectively going insane over this man.

The moons paint the water in a shimmering light that bathes its surface in sapphire that fades to the deepest of blacks the longer you stare into it. The waves that hit against the ragged stones are like a siren call to your aching body. 

Your muscles are still tight and coiled from earlier. Your molars grind together when you lift your arms to pull off your ruined and stained clothes. A burning sensation felt through your body as the fabric covering your torso moved against every burn, cut, and bruise you had acquired tonight. 

You didn’t stop by a reflective surface to check how many battle scars you’d earned. Badges of honor. More wounds worn like metals placed on your neck by a pleased master. Wounds, he’ll help you heal, stitch up, seal with the press of his palm to the tattered skin—stolen supplies from planets you can’t remember the name of with faces you can only remember the dead eyes of, used on the ones that don’t close up right.

The moonlight makes them look less serious. The illumination colored the dried blood and tissue into something misty. Almost tantalizing to the eye. Unlike the light of day, where you’re sure it will look less glamorizing. The ugly truth of the way your skin is going to bubble up and mold over to protect itself once the healing process begins is less glaring in this hue. 

Your toe dips into the water. It’s always warmer than you think it to be. Always welcoming you in like it’s been waiting for you to return. Waiting to wash away the grim and blood that seemed more permanent on your skin than your own flesh. 

You wade at the edge for a bit, pushing around the water with your feet. The water wading at your ankles. 

The ringing hasn’t stopped. 

It rarely does until you’ve closed your eyes and settled it. Until your body is less taut, muscles released from the on switch of fight. The power inside your veins thrumming like a wasp trying to free itself from the tissue of your bones. 

As if it had gotten stuck in there and couldn’t find its way out. Refusing to settle down or leave until you’ve maimed, avenged, and proved yourself—leaving your body and muscles in their current state. 

You’re not worried about something being in the water. If there were, you would have been able to feel it. Sense it’s beating heart and the danger of allowing it to keep beating. You’re alone as you walk further into the water, sinking into it’s depths until your body is completely engulfed. Your neck and head the only things going untouched. 

The freshly made badges on your skin burn when you scrub your thumb along the edges of them. Specks of dried blood float along the surface of the water before they’re lost to the darkness below. 

Amongst the ringing in your head, you can hear the screams of anger that tore from your lungs when the Jedi had gotten the upper hand. The green of his saber leaving red against your skin. Making your moves turn from confident to something rage fueled. 

Somewhere among the ringing, you know his scream is in there. Amongst the many cries for help and cracking bones. 

They always linger. Always hold on like a power pack to your dark side. 

You know your body won’t fully relax until you’ve stopped the ringing, though. You didn’t believe in blessings or curses. Bad fortune or good. Everyone’s life ended the same way. If you did believe in the farce, you would think the ringing that goes from the base of your skull to the drums of your ears was a curse. 

A quiet mind is a blessing. 

The buzz of the force within you too heady when you're in the throes of battle. War. Darkness. It’s always been like that. Even before him. 

It’s only gotten worse with him beside you. Like the bond the two of you had opened too much too deep and you feel everything more clearly. More unfortunately. 

He taught you how to silence it. To reign it in after the adrenaline and pace of your heart slowed. 

There were still things you had to learn. Things you were kept from knowing by your old master, the one who only saw one way to wield your power. A cowardly excuse for a master whose burial you wish you could have witnessed. 

It’s aggravating, almost. Anger inducing for sure. 

Someone not believing you are capable of knowing the truth about the power you wield. It’s criminal to not allow someone to be their true self all because of a set of rules that only benefited one group of people. One way of living, when there were so many. 

Your aggravation has faded by now. The anger is still there and buzzes through you. But you no longer feel like a part of you has been held back. Stunted and aching like your chest had for years—as if a rock had found itself in the base of your heart and took up rent there—until Qimir showed you the way. 

Your true self. 

Your full potential and all you were capable of. 

All that had been inside of you, held back for so long. 

Filling your lungs with air, you sink yourself under the water and hold yourself there. Eyes closing as you center yourself. Slow the wasp in your marrow to something dull. Stop the ringing in your ears until all you can hear is the hum of the water hitting the rock above the surface. 

Just you and the force. 

Just you and the water. 

Until you feel him. 

Until he’s there inside your mind.

Until you feel a hand at the base of your skull, fingertips brushing at the nape of your neck to let you know he’s not just in your head. He’s beside you.

Your eyes meet once you’ve filled your lungs with air again, and you wipe the water droplets from your lids. 

You watch him splash water against his neck, running the palm of his hand along the dirt and grime that clings to his skin. Cleaning himself of any traces of the deaths the two of you have left in your wake tonight. 

His calm demeanor always pulls you back from the edge. Always brings a calmness to your blood. To the beating of your heart. Even when shit has gone haywire, his demeanor never switches up. Never slips into something that could be labeled as sloppy or driven by anything other than who he truly is. What he’s made of. 

His calm seeping through your shared bond until you have no choice but to relax.

The handful of times you’ve seen that calmness turn into something animalistic, it’s made you envious, on the same hand, it’s made the space between your thighs burn. 

“You did well tonight.” 

“The smell of my burning flesh still clinging to my senses says differently.” 

The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement, “you did well.” He repeats. Ducks his head forward to wet his hair. His fingers running through the strands, droplets falling down his face. Your eyes follow them all the way down the column of his neck to his chiseled collar bones. 

It doesn’t take one wielding the force to know what your mind is projecting. Doesn’t matter that the two of you share a part of your brain. The thoughts of past nights spent together, Qimir teaching you the ways desire can be wielded and used to your advantage—or disadvantage, depending on how you look at it. 

Your face turns from him. Eyes moving up to the moon. 

Trying to hold back your thoughts the way he taught you. Even if it is futile against him.

“How do you feel?” 

Has the ringing stopped, Is what he’s really asking. Do you need another lesson? Are you still weakened by that ailment? That curse? 

Except he wouldn’t be as dramatic as that. Not with this. Not ever. Especially when it came to your power. Your capabilities. The perfect little acolyte he’s trained you to be. 

“Fine.” Your answer clipped, honest. Because you are fine, and your stubbornness will not allow you to let this turn into another lesson about you not being able to be as calm and collected as he is. No shadows of doubt lingering over who he truly is. His purpose. His wants. His desires. His darkness. 

He’s always been able to read right through you, though. Even without taking up space in your being. The force has little to do with that fact. 

You were never afraid of the darkness that lived inside of you. Never afraid of the power you could wield and the lives you could take. 

The only time you’ve felt true fear is being seen. 

Accepted. 

The potential to let someone of importance down and not withhold your end of a deal you’ve inked your name in blood just to be beside. To prove yourself to someone who’s your equal. Another half of your very being.

His face shows nothing but that calm amusement when he wades behind you. His fingers moving against your skin in an act to rid you of the spots of dirt you’ve missed on your neck and shoulders. 

Swallowing hard when his fingers scrape against past scars, he lingers there for a beat. Running the pad of them against the raised skin. A whisper in your head. 

You heal beautifully.

It’s a softness you’d never thought him to be capable of when you found out who he truly was. The man behind the mask. Even if the unmasking had been done unintentionally. 

It’s not softness you feel from his touch, though. No, his touch eases the strain in your muscles, only to gather itself in your belly. Your body burning with anticipation, knowing how this goes. 

How you’re rewarded when you impress him. 

When you do as you are told, your master is ever the generous one. 

“You’ve proven yourself tonight.” His lips brush against the tip of your spine, “killing without a weapon, not stopping until you were the last one standing. Freeing yourself from the ones who held you back for so long.” Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his mouth presses down on that same spot at the beginning of your spine. 

A hand snaking around your throat, his palm wet and warm against your collarbones as he pulls your neck at just the right angle to have you looking at him. 

“Did it feel good?” 

“Yes.” You swallow, wrap your fingers around his wrist. “It always does.” You whisper, your eyes flashing down to the upturn of his lips. 

His nose runs along your cheek to your temple, his eyes closed, inhaling you. “I can always smell it. When you let yourself become one with the darkness. Right before you take a life.” His thumb runs a circle against the vein, which tells him the pace of your heart has picked up. As if he’d need it to know, as if the two of you don’t share something that links you completely to the other. “It still lingers. It’s distracting.” 

It’s not a question, but you nod. Your eyes flutter when he pushes his hips forward, and the hardness of his cock moves against your ass. 

He doesn’t ask permission, the two of you knowing you’re past such kindnesses, when his hand cups your mound. He knows what your body needs right now. What it wants, what it’s expecting. He can feel it too. His index and middle fingers spread your pussy, giving him access to that pleasure point on your body that only he knows how to stroke just right to have you pliant and singing for him. 

As if you were not already devoted to him. As if he were not your reason for being.

He’s your beginning, and you have no doubt he will be your end if it comes to it. 

The pad of his finger circles your clit in that slow way that lets you know he’s going to take his time with you. Going to drain every last bit of strain and tightness from your muscles, pushing that buzz between your legs and making him the only sound in your head—until he thinks you have had enough. 

Until your reward is good enough for him to be satisfied with how you took it. Until he knows your mind is back where it needs to be—here, with him. 

His mouth meets the hand at your throat, his teeth sinking into the parts his fingers aren’t pressing into. “You’re everything I could have hoped for.” His tongue laps against your pulse.

Perfect.

You may never know if he actually means the words; you can only feel what he allows you to feel through your shared connection. He’s better at blocking than you. But he knows you need to hear these praises. Knows how good and pliable it will make you. His words stoke the fire inside your soul that burns through your darkness. That allows you to become completely consumed by him and the desire to be on this side. 

Of being free. 

What he does allow you to feel lets you know there is some truth somewhere in there. You can feel it in how hard his cock thrusts against your ass when your body pushes back into him. You can feel it in the way his thoughts stream through your mind. 

So obedient.

Your cunt’s so greedy for me.

You’re mine.

The skin on your fingers stings from gripping the rocks in front of you. The pain you should feel from the heel of your palm digging into the jagged stones, lost in the haze of pleasure consuming your body. 

Qimir consuming every last part of your being. 

Taking over every dark corner of your mind and not letting you feel or hear anything but him.

Your moans become more shaky, your chest heaving as you pant and curse. The weight of the finger on your clit grows heavier, faster, deliriously good the more you near your orgasm. 

Your lips are moving in inaudible words. Words he understands, making him grin against your jaw. 

“You want my cock tonight?” You know he’s read your mind, or rather, your body. Know he can feel what you desire and crave. What your minds begging him for. “Hmm, do you think you’re deserving of that big of a prize? You spill a little blood, and suddenly you’re greedy.” He hums, “you did well. Do you think you deserve it, though? No?” 

Heat burns your cheeks; his chuckle makes you sob into the night air. The stubbornness to please and be as perfect as your counterpart wants you to be is not in favor of the mounting pressure that’s building in your pussy right now. 

“I already think you’re perfect; don’t push it.” His foot pushes easily at your ankles. Your thighs spread enough for the head of his cock to press against your entrance and thrust inside. 

“Mmm,” you whine at the stretch. Your eyes fluttering closed at your swollen walls being filled. Walls that tighten around him as he sets a fast pace. Matching the rhythm and stroke of his fingers. Sending your body on an overwhelming precipice of a carnal need to come. 

The heaviness of his breath as he says your name against your skin—the quick flashes of the pleasure he feels from being inside of you—is what finally sends you over the edge. 

Your orgasm rocking through you like a storm. Your body shaking against him, walls fluttering and squeezing around his cock, making him groan. Your throat raw and scratchy from the noise that’s pulled up from your lungs when everything in your body is set completely aflame. 

Your hand falling from the rocks, and pressing your nails into his wrist, trying to pull his hand from between your thighs. The over-stimulation of his finger moving against your clit even after your orgasm has passed makes you cry out and ripple the water around the two of you as you squirm. 

The tip of his cock hits that spot inside you that makes your vision go white. That falters your fight against his torment. 

“You can do better than one. You deserve it, don’t you?”

[suzukiblu]

"Lex Luthor's latest character flaw" poll winner, "deciding he wants grandbabies and giving Robin a cloning lab about it". Behold, a new WIP strikes!!

“What,” Tim says, staring blankly at the brightly-lit and airy sunroom full of very obvious cloning technology in the very expensive penthouse that Lex Luthor’s bodyguards just dragged a handcuffed Red Robin and Spoiler into after kidnapping them straight off patrol in the Diamond District in the middle of an active crisis situation with the League of Assassins and disabling all their tech and every single one of their trackers six and a half hours ago, down to the bastardized Kryptonian-tech ones in their back molars and two more in both of their suits that Tim didn’t even know existed, plus the one he put in Steph’s collar that she didn’t know existed. Babs is probably just about feral by now. Bruce is definitely feral by now. 

And Lex Luthor is drinking what appears to be a neon purple protein shake out of a rocks glass while sitting at a neatly-arranged desk in the center of the sunroom lab, looking idly bored and scrolling through whatever’s on his phone with his free hand. 

Alright then, Tim thinks carefully. 

“There you are, I was starting to wonder if I’d gotten al Ghul riled up for nothing,” Luthor says, barely glancing up from his tablet. 

“. . . which al Ghul,” Tim asks with wary dread. 

“All of them,” Luthor says, setting down his tablet to give him a pleasant smile. 

Well, now Tim knows why nobody’s dropped in a skylight to rescue them yet. And also why half of Gotham is currently on fire. 

“Uh,” Steph says, glancing around the sunroom lab. “So like, lead-lined glass in here, then, or . . . ?” 

“We’re in Connecticut, so no,” Luthor replies dismissively. “Anyway, the Boy Scout always gets suspicious of too much lead in one place. Which I personally find darling, since anyone in Metropolis without at least a lead-lined and soundproofed bedroom is essentially asking for Kryptonian voyeurs, whether intentionally or not on said Kryptonians’ parts. Also, privacy laws exist for a reason. As do patents, copyrights, attorney-client privilege, HIPAA . . .” 

“Connecticut?” Steph repeats incredulously. “What the frick is in Connecticut?” 

“Currently, us,” Luthor replies matter-of-factly. “Hope, Mercy, do me a favor and go check the security systems manually, just in case any invasive species of vermin have gotten into them. Also, yes, there is kryptonite, and no, there is actually much more than you’re theorizing.” 

“You have literally no idea how much kryptonite we’re theorizing,” Steph says as the bodyguards both leave with an affirming nod. Luthor gives her a pitying look, then turns his chair a few degrees towards Tim. Tim immediately expects the inevitable threat or ultimatum, and braces himself for–

“I’d apologize for all the fuss, but I don’t actually care about inconveniencing you and don’t see the point in pretending I ever would,” Luthor informs him. Tim stares blankly at him again. What is even happening right now? “Now then, what are your intentions in regards to ‘Supernova’, as I hear someone’s started calling himself now. ‘Themself’? I’m not sure if ‘Supernova’ is meant to be gender-affirming or more a ‘too old to stick with ‘Superboy’ but there are already three ‘Supermen’ active and the whole, you know, general stubborn individualism they’re so fond of. Or ‘he’s’ so fond of. Whichever."

Tim stares at him. 

“Is this supposed to be a trap for Supernova or a shovel talk for me?” he asks, because a) he’s not telling Lex Luthor anything about Kon’s gender or personal choices that Kon hasn’t publicly stated, and b) only Lex Luthor would actually kidnap two active vigilantes in the middle of a crisis he’d apparently pre-arranged to give a–well, no, Bruce would also do that, definitely. But this is not a Batman talk, either way. 

Batman’s “talks” all involve tests, for one thing, so actually so far this is an improvement. 

“It’s an engagement present,” Luthor says pleasantly. 

Tim’s brain crashes, then does the slowest reboot of his life. He’s recovered from concussions faster, he’s pretty sure. 

“They’re . . . not engaged, though?” Steph says skeptically. “Or, like, even dating?” 

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively.

[girlboypersonthingy]

crawls into ask box

hi can i request for sal fisher w a s/o who likes to trace his face scars with their fingers 😎

YES YES YES I want this so bad, I wish this were me sooooo baaadddddd 😮‍💨 thanks for all the Sally face requests I’ve been getting! I’m living for it. If you’ve requested, I’ll get to it soon. Promise ✨ enjoy~

Notes: established relationship, first time saying ‘I love you’, tons of fluff, short little drabble

TW: spit (Sal drools a lil 😚)

Sal x reader- Quality Time

After a long day of you working and Sal having class, it was finally late and quiet, finally time to unwind and spend some quality time with your darling boyfriend. You sat in his bed, playing on his gearboy to pass the time as he took a shower. Gizmo is cuddled up next to your thigh, softly purring while you play your game. As you were just getting invested in the hand held game, the door swung open and in came Sal with wet blue hair dipping onto his black over sized t-shirt, wearing just the shirt and a pair of baggy blue boxers.

“Feeling better?” You glance at him for a moment then back to the game. “Yeah, I’m tired now.” Sal replies as he rubs the excess water out of his long hair with his towel, quickly throwing it aside before climbing on the bed with you. He didn’t hesitate in laying on his back and resting his head in your lap, watching as you continue your game. Besides the intense music and sound effects coming from the gearboy, it became quiet between you two, pleasantly quiet and calm.

You were so caught up in completing the level you’re currently on that you didn’t even notice that Sal had shifted his gaze from the game in your hand to your face above him, taking time to admire it all scrunched into a focused expression. He stared up at you for what felt like hours, taking in the view of you licking your lips and raising your brows. Your face is so pretty, so soft and whole, pretty much flawless in his opinion. As a smile crept up his cheeks, it was his soft sigh of contentment that made you glance down at him. From your point of view, his bare face was upside down with his head resting in your lap and his hair all pushed back- nothing was obstructing your view of his messily scarred face.

Quickly, you found yourself locked into his gaze, staring back down at him as his smile got bigger, revealing his teeth even more through the missing flesh of his cheek. Now your own lips are spreading wider, a wave of butterflies coursing through your stomach as you blink at him. “W-what?” You ask in reference to his loving stare. Sal takes a moment to answer, softly chucking first when the sound effects of defeat come from the gearboy still in your hand.

“You’re just really cute.” He finally responds, making you toss the gearboy aside and fully focus on him. You’re smiling so big now, it’s hard to keep your eyes open enough to see him. “No, you are.” And your hands find their place on his cheeks, your thumbs gently stroking his uneven skin, making Sal’s eyes gradually close as he relaxes under your fingertips.

For what felt like hours, you stayed this way- your fingers gently tracing over every scar and every part of his face that had never healed back over. Finger tips lightly ticking his forehead, your hands softly rubbing under his chin before circling back to his cheeks, all the while both of your smiles are unchanging. “Feel good, Sally?” Sal hums in response, eyes still closed as he feels himself getting sleepy.

It was relaxing for both of you- the different textures of his skin felt so unique to your hands. His bright and shiny molars caught your attention as they peak through the gaping hole in his cheek. It was then that you noticed a bit of drool pooling on the side of his cheek where his teeth were exposed, his breathing steady and nearly silent now. He was falling asleep.

“I love you.” It leaves your mouth as a breathy confession, making Sal open his eyes, one empty socket and a dull blue eye staring up at you. His expression changes rapidly from a look of surprise and excitement to one of adoration and endearment. His brows relax, his face begins to turn pink as he shifts his gaze away. He hasn’t replied yet so you nervously open your mouth again, hands still resting on his cheeks. “Sorry, you…you’re j-just so gorgeous.”

Sal turns his head to the side fast, using one of his hands to cover his crimson face. A soft groan leaves him and he pauses before speaking. “Stoooppp.” You would stop if it wasn’t for his smile showing from beneath his large hand, you could hear the giddy smirk in his voice when he spoke. So you decide to keep the sappy romance going. Carefully, leaving him time to stop you, you pull his hand away and continue gently stoking his cheek again. Silence falls between you two for a moment before Sal turns his head so he’s looking up at you again.

“I love you too.” His eyes are closed now and he seems relaxed again, his blushing cheeks having calmed down a bit thanks to your calming touch. Leaning over him slowly, you let your eyes close as you go for a kiss. Sal opens up his eye for a second to see you leaning in and he sits up ever so slightly to meet you in the middle. Your lips slowly part against each other’s, moving in different rhythms but somehow matching up perfectly. Your hands slide from his cheeks to behind his head, fingers tangled in his wet locks as you’re holding his face up to yours. You both savor the moment, hearts starting to beat faster and faster. Seconds later, you part with a soft gasp coming from both of you.

Something about you complimenting his bare face while also touching it and telling him you love him…makes him wanna put a ring on that finger immediately. He never thought he’d find a love like you and while he isn’t totally sure what he’s doing here, he wants to be with you like this forever.

[owldart]

OOPS! EMERGENCY DENTAL!

so, my teeth are usually in pretty good shape! I brush and floss daily, I try to eat stuff that's good for me, all that jazz. But, uh, it's been a while since my last dental appointment.

And my top left molar has decided to make that VERY OBVIOUS to me by chipping enough to cause a BIG HOLE that is SOMEWHAT WORRYING to me.

I currently work part-time retail and I do commissions on the side. I do not have tooth fixing money.

I could absolutely use some tooth fixing money.

So, my commissions are open! I do both animation and illustration as well as character design, and I've done animatics for various characters and fandoms in the past. If you'd like something, please send me an email at owldart@gmail.com! Payment is done via paypal at paypal.me/owldartt.

I also have a ko-fi at https://ko-fi.com/owldart if you'd like to support me in a smaller way! Any little bit helps.

Commission examples under the cut!

[castillon02]

January: an Omega watch that could level a city block. February: a Montblanc garotte-pen that could write a headline as easily as take a head off. March: a tuxedo jacket made out of a new stab-proof nano-fiber.

Q Branch had assigned these to 006, 005, and 009 respectively.

When the new Aston Martin was ready in April, Bond was too: ready to put his persuasive blue eyes to good use.

"Q."

"No."

"The odds of one going into the Tiber again are---"

"I specifically waterproofed it. It's technically a nautical vehicle. The answer is still no."

Bond smoldered.

Q kept his dark-ringed eyes on his monitor. His shoulders slumped for a moment before straightening. "Fine. If you sign this." Q handed him a letterheaded sheet of paper.

Under the circumstances that the man known as Q is removed from his position at MI6 due to the destruction of a gadget that Q has provided to me, I, the undersigned, pledge to provide at minimum a replacement monthly salary for at least 48 months immediately following the removal of Q's employment.

"No one's going to fire you."

Q arched his eyebrows. “Here: your current issue.” He handed Bond a plastic Bic pen. The top half had been chewed on and not by Q; the molar imprints didn’t match. 

Bond’s lip curled involuntarily. 

Q smiled. 

Bond signed the contract. 

Later, after the car and its surrounds exploded, Q turned up at Bond’s flat with two cat carriers in tow. “I expect we’ll be kept in the manner to which we’re accustomed.” He flopped onto Bond’s sofa.  

It’d probably be a month or two before MI6 hired Q back, which was time enough for good Quartermasters to have a rest and be spoiled. Bond would have to thank 006; the Omega had worked perfectly.

[deathdaydreamm]

Hello pals! Half my fucking tooth broke off and my insurance doesn’t cover root canals on upper molars, I only have 900 dollars to spare currently and the procedure is 1,400 dollars 🥲 I’ve been trying to work as much as I can but since I haven’t been able to eat much because my tooth hurts so bad I’m losing weight and tired all the time now RIP

I don’t have many people I can borrow money from please help a poor motherfucker like me save my tooth

I hope you’re having a good day & I love u 💖

V3nmo: sofa526

Cash4pp: sofa526

Payp4l: sofakills

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 05

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, bad words, drug addiction, violence, betrayal.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

If they thought you weren’t lucid enough to make decisions, now they could be certain of it. But the truth is, you had never been so sure about anything. All you wanted now was to quiet the storm of voices inside your head, and the environment you were in wasn’t helping much.

“Please, boys, give us some privacy,” Gerard, the executive, requested, never stopping the pen spinning between his fingers. Apathetic gaze, controlled breathing, minimal facial expressions. Let’s just say your current boss wasn’t an easy man to read between the lines.

The gum in your mouth gradually lost its flavor, and the rubbery texture sticking to your molars seemed stiffer with every chew. It matched the tension in the room as glances crossed over the table, both of you waiting for the boys to leave.

“This must be some kind of terrible joke.”

“At no point did I say it was a joke,” you replied simply, eyebrows raised, making it clear how little you cared about the conversation. “I want to go back to Richmond.”

There were things you had learned from Noah without much effort, and one of them was hiding everything behind a blank face and short sentences.

“Can I know the real reason you’re acting so high and mighty, throwing away your career and, as a bonus, sabotaging my band, where I’ve invested money, time, and effort?” he asked, tapping the pen against the wooden table. “But I mean a real reason, something I should actually take seriously. Not your tantrum with one of your colleagues after he got tired of screwing you!”

His words seemed deliberately harsh, and you had expected this, knowing that any weapon he had to hurt you, he would use. But nothing moved you so easily, and he would need to try a little harder.

“Gerard…” His name left your lips almost like a song. “I’d like to remind you that this band you’re so eager to protect when you throw in our faces every dollar you’ve invested belongs to me and the boys, nothing more. I don’t remember seeing you in any of those dark attic meetings when Bad Omens was nothing!”

With utter calm, you adjusted your posture in the chair and crossed your legs, never breaking eye contact.

“It’s so easy for you to come in now, after signing a piece of paper that grants you rights to four albums and a percentage of the merchandise, and act like that makes you the owner. But that’s not how it works,” you continued, leaning toward the table. “Bad Omens owes you the last album, which I just contributed to by writing the song. So my part is done. The tour can go on without me; Noah can handle it.”

Gerard listened attentively to every word, tracing an invisible line on the table. A raspy laugh escaped him, and it was impossible not to furrow your brows, wondering what the hell the old man found so amusing.

“Someone here didn’t read their own contract, did they?” Something about that question wiped the expression off your face instantly. “When you signed with the label, there was a clause in bold letters about all members remaining until the end of the contract. The absence of one results in a breach, with a penalty of up to 40% of the band’s earnings to date.”

“You…” you spat out in disbelief. “How dare you say that when you’ve spent the last few years sabotaging our band to favor your son’s? We can’t have our own marketing team, our social media is controlled by you, and we can’t even choose our release dates!”

If the band had ever played at big festivals, the credit should go to the connections they made along the way, using them as stepping stones. From the way Gerard spoke, it almost sounded like they did an excellent job and the members were ungrateful.

Five starry-eyed kids, elated at the possibility of someone finally betting on their band. All intoxicated by the promise of a better life and being heard, with zero knowledge of how things actually worked. Easy prey for a man like him.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, spinning his chair until he was facing you again. “You want to destroy the band, the same band you arrogantly claim as yours. But let me tell you, outside that door, you and those four idiots own nothing!”

He snapped his fingers in the air.

“Most of the money you’ve earned would be spent on penalties. The name Bad Omens belongs to me until the contract ends, as do the rights to the last three releases. Noah wouldn’t be able to sing Just Pretend even in the shower without paying me for every line. Got it? Or has the crap you sniff already rotted your head?”

Your fists clenched so tightly on the table that you could hear the joints crack from a distance. Gerard had never mentioned anything like this before; nothing had ever threatened you until now. From this vantage point, you were beginning to see a different side of him.

He walked around the table until he was beside you, and the warmth of his breath stirred strands of hair on your shoulder as he leaned in close to your ear.

"If you leave, the band ends. That’s the simplest outcome. But do you really think that’s what they deserve?" he taunted. "If my memory serves me right, it’s you who owes him. Isn’t it?"

"Get away from me," you growled through clenched teeth.

"I’ll admit, this isn’t exactly a desirable prison for me either, given the mediocre artist you’ve turned into over the past few years. You ruin your own performances, bring nothing new, and are declining in every sense." His voice was laced with scorn as he gave you a pointed once-over. "Your exit would definitely be a win for the band, but that idiot Noah doesn’t see it that way, and I’m not in the mood to cancel another tour because of you two!"

Back to square one.

The band had gained traction in recent months, but not enough to make money a non-issue—especially with Gerard overloading the schedule with more shows and commitments than anyone could reasonably handle. You had savings, but doubted they’d cover even half the cost of a breach-of-contract fine.

"You’d rather keep me working against my will, even though I’m visibly showing signs of physical and mental exhaustion?"

Like an overheated device forced to run nonstop without a break or a chance to be unplugged, that’s exactly how you felt. When the weariness in your mind seeped into your body, causing pain in every part you could name, it was like a flashing red warning sign in front of your eyes.

"If we’re being honest? I don’t care what you really want. I don’t care if you have to drown yourself in drugs to keep standing on that stage. I don’t care if you wreck your skin or drink yourself into oblivion after another fight with him, as long as it leads to you writing a decent song." He sighed, almost satisfied. Gerard pulled something from his pocket—a vial with a white substance—and placed it in your hand. "Keep your word and don’t be selfish by destroying your friends’ dreams. If you truly love Noah, you know what needs to be done. He already knows you’re weak; you don’t have to prove it all the time."

The entire conversation spun in your head like a rollercoaster of words. You wanted to punch him, to shove his teeth inward and make him swallow every personal insult he’d hurled about your life and your damn history. Seeing the triumphant smirk he wore after renting a space in your mind wasn’t part of today’s plans.

Clutching the vial tightly in your hand, you turned your back on him and slammed the meeting room door behind you. Leaning against the other side, you processed everything again, forcing yourself to search for the smallest crack you could cling to in order to flip the script. Being in his grasp was suffocating, like being suspended by thin strings against a wall.

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted when you sensed someone’s presence. The scent reached you before he did, and your eyes closed as you clenched the vial tighter before shoving it into your pocket.

"I need to talk to you about what happened today, and don’t even try to tell me—" The harsh tone Noah used dissolved in a fraction of a second, his eyes shifting from furious to melancholy. "Are you crying?"

"Do you mind getting me out of here?" you pleaded, watching as Noah nodded slowly.

He walked beside you through the entire floor, waiting for you to step into the elevator before following close behind. During the descent, there was the sweetest silence, but you knew him well enough to tell he was agonizing over the words piling up inside him.

For some reason, he continued to respect your wish to say nothing.

As you reached the building’s exit, your steps froze, and Noah looked at you in confusion. When his eyes followed yours across the street, you heard him murmur something with a heavy sigh.

In a swift motion, Noah removed his cap and placed it on your head, pulling up your hoodie and sliding on a pair of sunglasses. It wasn’t perfect, but it was what you had.

Across the street, you counted six girls wearing the band’s T-shirts. They seemed like ordinary fans, phones in hand, but any group of fans had started to terrify you over time. You never knew how they’d react to seeing you, and that paralyzed you in place.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Noah tried to provide as much reassurance as he could, pulling you closer into his hoodie. It shouldn’t have been this hard—just a few steps and you’d be in the van. Nothing could go wrong.

"Noah! Noah! Noah!" one of the girls shouted excitedly as you walked in a straight line. "Can we get a picture?"

"Girls, would you mind giving us some space?" he said gently, almost surprisingly. "We really can’t stop right now."

"But we just want a picture with you!" she insisted, her tone hardening.

"And I just want you to let us pass!" he snapped, dragging you along to keep moving.

"Noah would never refuse to take a picture. It’s all her fault!" she muttered to the others. "Every time they’re close, she pushes them away from the fans!"

The last straw broke the camel’s back.

A sigh escaped your nose as you ripped off the cap and sunglasses with the same speed you broke free from Noah’s hold, spinning around to face the group.

“WHAT?” You dared to ask again, as if you hadn’t understood.

“Exactly what you heard! Every time you come back, you drive him away from the fans! Your mother is right when she says you’re a disgrace because you don’t just ruin your life—you’re ruining Noah’s too!”

“GO TO HELL, YOU FUCKING BITCH!”

Everything happened too fast. After screaming, you pounced on the girl like a leopard on its prey. Your still-injured hand, cut from smashing the mirror earlier, struck her face, the same face you relentlessly hit with blow after blow.

The flashing cameras capturing the scene didn’t faze you. You’d escaped the cage, desperate for the release of your fury. The metallic scent of her blood filled the air as she squirmed beneath you, but you pinned her torso down with your legs.

“Yes! Show them who you really are!” she shouted in between the slaps that turned her head from side to side. “A deranged lunatic who shouldn’t be allowed in society because you act like an animal.”

A strong grip on your waist yanked you back, forcing you out of your dominant position despite your resistance. Overpowering your screams, Noah threw you over his shoulder and stormed toward the van with long strides. You fought to break free along the way, but with no fans left around, he ensured you couldn’t return to the battlefield.

In the backseat, you focused on pressing the blood-soaked bandage against your fists, deliberately adding pressure. The sharp sting of pain and the remnants of glass shards still embedded in your skin kept you awake, the sensation clashing with the adrenaline surging through your chest.

“You’re going to need a stronger bandage for your hand,” he said, looking down at you. Noah was holding back a laugh with considerable difficulty. “And guess what? Everyone else left, so you’ll have to accept my help.”

“Fine.”

Noah hesitated, clearly surprised by how quickly you agreed, undoubtedly questioning if he’d heard you correctly.

“Huh… well, that wasn’t so bad. Actually, I’m impressed you still have decent reflexes,” he teased, nudging you with his elbow. “What did you say? POW! POW! POW!”

The way he pitched his voice high and reenacted the fight scene made you burst into a long laugh. Slowly, you shook your head, denying that you were giving in so easily, but there were exceptions when he reminded you of the old Noah.

“Wow!” he said, raising his eyebrows. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile at me like that.”

“Well, it’s not like you give me many reasons to.”

The van stopped in front of the place you’d called home since the breakup—a small space with furniture still wrapped in plastic, its windows sealed like no one lived there. Noah scanned the area, inspecting every detail, including the pile of unopened mail. Something on the wall seemed to catch his attention.

“You still have this,” he remarked, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he touched the lightning bolt keychain hanging among your keys. He used his index finger—the one adorned with the ring you had given him. “It was the only thing my money could buy back then. A stupid keychain.”

It was never just a stupid keychain to you.

“When you moved out, some of my things came with you, and if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like them back.”

Your mind tried to sift through what he might be referring to. Clothes, records, books—maybe even his glasses. Yes, plenty of things had come with the move.

“I…”

The words lingered, dying at the edge of your lips.

“I got rid of everything that was yours.”

“Everything?” His eyes cracked like poorly cut crystal, his voice betraying a shift in tone. “You didn’t want to keep any part of me?”

And in that moment, Noah wasn’t talking about material possessions.

“No, Noah.” You clutched your palm as if it could hold you up, resisting with everything not to let your voice break. “I didn’t want any part of you.”

Reluctantly, he smiled, but his tearful eyes betrayed him as droplets rolled down his cheeks. Sniffling to fend off the emotion, he wiped his face quickly, inhaling deeply as he straightened and looked at the ceiling.

“Thanks for today. I’ll manage from here,” you assured him firmly, taking a step back. Noah nodded and adjusted himself to head toward the door but hesitated, stepping back as if he’d missed something.

“If your plan to leave the band failed, unfortunately, I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow,” he said, his expression shifting as quickly as a gust of wind. “But I expect you to value my time this time. I can’t deal with your lack of professionalism anymore, and I won’t let it slide from now on.”

At last, he turned his back, and the door closed as you allowed yourself to collapse into a fit of sobs, sliding down the wooden frame. Through your gasps, you thought you heard something on the other side—a sound so similar, just as anguished, slicing through the walls of your chest without anesthetic.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @anarchydomainglory ; @iluvmewwwww75

[delirious-donna]

Resistance and Ire [Part One]

“Your blood,” he managed to say without snarling whilst his eyes raked over the throbbing pulse in your neck and up to your terrified eyes, “it’s singing to me.” 

story summary: Levi isn’t hungry, or so that’s what he claims. A vampire must drink to survive, and his sire refuses to let the man give up without trying every trick up his sleeve. When a new ‘donor’ appears, one who is different from all the rest, will Levi be able to keep resisting?

pairing: Levi Ackerman x female reader

warnings: mentions of blood, blood drinking and all the things associated with vampirism, SFW (for now 👀), implied danger, a bit of flirting but y’know… it’s Levi so let him warm up a bit

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Part Two

“Is this really necessary?” Levi scoffed into the depths of his teacup. 

Hange frowned. They leaned across the antique desk, bringing their face closer to his own and he arched an eyebrow at the overreaction to what had been a simple question. The light from the lamp glinted off their glasses, hazel eyes attempting to fix him in place but all it achieved was a faint sense of amusement. 

“If you’re trying for intimidation, Hange, then I’m afraid you’ve met your match.” 

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” they enthused, crumpling into a mass of limbs and messily tied hair that he wished nothing more than to sweep aside from the papers they were currently messing up. “It’s been too long, Levi. Far too long.” 

Maybe that was true, not that he was about to admit to it. 

“How long has it been exactly?” 

Hange ground down on their molars, hands balling into fists by their sides. He felt a twinge of sympathy that they had been the one deployed on what he assumed would be a doomed mission. They were not the first and likely would not be the last, but it was hard to maintain that ounce of sympathy when he honestly did not care. 

Levi couldn’t recall the last time he felt much of his emotions. Mostly he was numb to them and that suited him fine. Why couldn’t he be left to rot in the peace of his library? He knew why, and that’s where the first tendrils of inky hatred broke the calm surface of his demeanour. 

“He worries.” 

His pupils shrank before dilating to swallow his irises whole. The pen in his hand gave an ominous groan as the very oxygen from the room was expunged. Hange stepped back.  

“He can go to hell for all I care,” he hissed vehemently. 

“Levi. Be reasonable, you have to eat,” they beseeched, palms spread wide to show they meant no hostility. “How long are you going to continue with this childish behaviour? You’re older than I am by nearly half a century and yet you’re claiming that the donors, who want to serve you, might I add, don’t meet your requirements? Come on.” 

Levi lifted his chin, indignant in his pettiness. It was childish, of course it was, but it was working and that sense of satisfaction felt better than any blood ever could. There was nothing for him to say in retaliation so instead, he let the silence hang until Hange couldn’t stomach it—it didn’t take long. Their feet shuffled on the priceless rug; arms sent skyward before they flopped into the leather wingback chair opposite him, slumped in what he assumed to be defeat. 

“Maybe he was wrong this time,” they offered dejectedly.  

His curiosity piqued, and he quickly steepled his fingers to stop them from fidgeting and giving himself away entirely. Levi had always liked Hange and it was proving harder to resist his thirst for knowledge this time around. It wouldn’t hurt to give in just a little, to show that he wasn’t downright refusing like he had done the last three times someone was sent to tempt him into sating his appetite. 

“Wrong about what?” 

“Hm? Oh. Erwin said he handpicked your newest donor. I think his exact words were along the lines of… ‘Levi will adore her. There is no possible way he could deny himself a taste.’ Or something like that.” Hange deepened their voice at the appropriate part, brow furrowed in mimicry of their shared sire, and he felt the corner of his lips twitch. 

Meddlesome Erwin. He could never keep his nose out of his affairs for long. That hatred began to bubble and boil. How audacious of him to assume he had so little self-restraint. It had been nearly a whole month since his last meal, and whilst the hunger was ever-present, the deliciousness of being stubborn and succeeding at it fed him more than adequately. 

“Nonsense,” he said. 

“—said you’d say that too.” 

Hange was picking at their cuticles, deliberately not looking at him and his teeth flashed as his lips curled back with a snarl. He would show Erwin. One more to add to the rejection pile would not do any harm. Maybe Erwin would finally back off if he resisted this, oh-so-special, human. 

“Send them to me. I will be the one to decide, not Erwin.” 

“Excellent!” The brunette jumped to their feet with a wide, Cheshire Cat smile. “She’s in my car. I’ll be sure to show her in.” 

Fuck. Levi felt played and he had no one to blame but himself. Ire and pride were to be his downfall. His mouth opened to protest except it was already far too late. He snapped his jaw closed and shut his eyes, counting silently in the hopes of regaining a fraction of his composure. 

He was unsure exactly how long he stayed like that, his counting giving way to mediation methods he had mastered decades ago, and time ceased to exist.  

Footsteps echoed along the corridor leading to his library, they were steady and far from nervous unlike most who traipsed these lonesome hallways. A knock reverberated on the heavy mahogany door, and he heard the faintest exhale of breath. 

“Enter.” 

~~~~~~~~

You weren’t sure what to expect, but nothing could prepare you for the whirlwind that had been the last few hours. 

The existence of vampires had come as a shock to the entire world back when they chose to step out of the shadows, to reveal their truths and assure the masses that the nightmares told in literature were nowhere near reality. Some countries took to the adaptation of the world as we knew it more readily than others, mostly countries where folklore and traditions surrounding the dead—or undead in this case—remained steadfast and revered. 

With synthetic blood still a future pipe dream, the demand for consensual blood was at an all-time high. Years of legislation and government interference had seen the rise of blood donor agencies specifically aimed at catering to those that no longer had a beating heart… or did they? Honestly, you weren’t sure you knew for certain. Research on vampires was strictly prohibited so the only public information was what they chose to share, and they were very secretive. 

For those who longed to rub shoulders—or more—with the powerful creatures of the night, these agencies were not the fantasy-fuelled dream they hoped for. They were no more than standard clinical settings where you donated a pint of your blood in exchange for a cookie and a promise that someone out there would be very happy to taste you. Some clinics showed a catalogue of vampires with their preferred blood type listed beneath candid photos, but those were a rarity and extremely expensive to become affiliated with, despite being the ones most commonly advertised. 

What was even more rare, and completely hush-hush, were the vampires that drank directly from the vein. Of course, there was the negative press associated with those who believed themselves to be ‘true’ vampires. Blood drinking that led to death was extremely rare but heavily sensationalised by the media. It meant that those who chose to remain faithful to the old ways were extremely selective, with rigorous measures in place to vet applicants. You knew that more than most having spent the past several months infiltrating such a place. 

It all led to today and you couldn’t shake the feeling of that fateful meeting just a few hours ago. Erwin Smith was an imposing man, one that you would be flustered by in normal circumstances but add in that he was the head of a powerful vampire syndicate and with an unknown age, it only worsened your predicament.  

His piercing blue eyes, neatly parted blond hair and Roman nose were accentuated by the aura that all vampires possessed. It was as if power radiated from them, and it wasn’t hard to see why so many people in positions of authority were outed as immortals during The Awakening. You were certain he could see right into your soul when he shook your hand and inclined his head, and whatever he saw… he liked. It left you feeling on edge, like you had taken the first step towards a destiny that had been written for millennia.  

That Erwin had seen something you couldn’t fathom was the only reason you found yourself climbing out of the black town car and following an excitable Hange towards a dimly lit portion of the stately house. They were far too animated for your liking, and although you had found it all too easy to form a quick bond of friendship with them, there was a glint in their eye that reminded you of a shark—a predator. 

Nerves be damned, you knocked and heard the low commanding request to enter after a heartbeat or two of silence so loud it was deafening. The handle was cool beneath your fingers, not a bead of sweat sullying your palms when you pushed into the room with your eyes cast low. There was a sharp inhale of breath, and you glanced up to see a young man sitting behind a polished desk. 

“Good evening, Miss...?” The man inquired politely, standing when you approached and gesturing for you to take the seat opposite. 

You gave him your name and watched him taste the weight of it, the syllables rolling along his tongue until you thought you might never wish for another person to use it again. Black hair as pure as a midnight sky hung into curtains over his brow, it might have hidden the furrow had it not been so prominent, but you didn’t comment. 

“Pretty,” he mused almost to himself before continuing. “Am I to assume that you know who I am or were you not fed that information?” 

Frowning, you blinked down at your hands in your lap. There had been some hint that he might not be as friendly as you would like, but it was hard not to wither beneath his icy stare. Despite the cold reception, you couldn’t help but find him handsome. At nearly a foot shorter than Erwin, his presence was no less impressive, in fact, he commanded more of your attention without even trying. 

“I believe,” he started quietly, “I asked you a question. 

“I-I was told your name is Levi and that you would be mean to me if I spoke out of turn.”  

You left out the part about being warned against his dismissive attitude and general lack of compassion for anyone other than himself. It didn’t feel right to poke the bear any more than was necessary. 

“Tch.” Levi clicked his tongue against his teeth. His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, and you watched at the subtle widening of his eyes before a veil of contempt fell across his features. 

“Levi Ackerman, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Are you certain about that?” You slapped your palm over your traitorous mouth, mentally chastising yourself. 

“I’ve been sent a cheeky one, delightful.” 

“I didn’t mean to… sorry. I’m used to speaking my mind,” you conceded softly. Did he have to have such sharp eyes? The grey hue swirled almost mercurially and since your arrival, they had shifted from pale to dark and back again. It left you wondering why. 

“Speaking your mind in the company of vampires is not always the most wise.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“Not at all. Simply a fact.” Levi arched an eyebrow. His face was neutral, impassive, or so he hoped. It was hard to remain calm when your very scent wafted invitingly towards him. Your aroma was different from any other he had ever experienced, and he wanted to kick himself for falling further into this perfectly cunning trap. 

It didn't help matters that he also found you incredibly pretty, no easy feat given his history of lovers and the like over the many many years. A good-looking face could only take him so far, but there was more to you than met the eye and he scowled harder when you glanced away. One false move and he would be fully entangled in a spider's web made just for him.

You hummed, musing quietly as to whether you believed him or not. There was no need for threats when there was a seven-figure insurance policy in your father’s name should anything fatal befall you. That would be more than enough to ensure his twilight years were spent in luxury. 

“Do you always conduct interviews such as these before you drink?” 

Levi canted his head. “You haven’t done this,” he waved his hand between the two of you, “before?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“So, you’re not a virgin blood donor then.” 

“I didn’t say that either,” you said churlishly. 

Whether you knew it or not, your blood was heating the longer this back and forth ensued. Levi wanted to bite down hard on his tongue as the scent of bergamot tickled his olfactory senses and he began to salivate uncontrollably. Give it another minute or two and his gums would throb with the want to release the full length of his canines, making it harder to speak without a lisp. Harder, not impossible. 

“You’re testing my patience,” he warned flatly. 

You shifted in your seat and straightened your spine. If it took you screwing your courage to the sticking place, then so be it. He might be possibly the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on, but you were not without reason for being here. It was important to remember that and not fall into some silly bickering that could see all your carefully cultivated plans blown up in one fell swoop. 

“That wasn’t my intention,” you admitted truthfully, “but you must know that I’ve been thoroughly vetted in every possible way. I’ve even personally met Mr Smith, he—” 

Suddenly, he was in front of you.  

No longer safely on the other side of the desk but right there in front of your chair. His hands gripped the leather arms until you could hear the fabric whimper in protest. The mercurial swirl of his irises painted a storm-laden sky, and you swallowed down the shriek caught fast in your throat. 

“Did. He. Taste. You.” 

What was happening? Where had this unexpected shift come from? His clipped words were raw with potent fury, and only when you shrank back did a momentary sense of panic skitter over his face. The veil of contempt ripped away to reveal… fuck, you didn’t know.  

“What...? Mr Ackerman, please.” You choked out the words, overcome by contrasting desires that made no sense. The most sensible was to run, to flee as fast as you could and hope that there would be protection outside of his opulent library. The other was also to run but towards him, to hurtle yourself into his arms and comfort a man—was he still a man? —you had only just met. 

“Your blood,” he managed to say without snarling whilst his eyes raked over the throbbing pulse in your neck and up to your terrified eyes, “it’s singing to me.” 

Levi had chosen not to believe in it. After centuries of existence and barely any tales of it being documented, he had refused to listen to the stories Erwin spoke of so many moons ago. Tales of blood that sang so sweetly that you could not deny it. Pieces were missing from his memory, other myths attached to the phenomena but it hardly mattered when he was listening to the most alluring music he had ever heard in his life.  

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it started, it certainly wasn't when you first entered his home or even when you gave him your name without reservation. One moment he was quelling the desire to draw you into his lap and scent the blood directly beneath your skin and the next he shadow-stepped without meaning to.

He was utterly fear-struck. 

The door burst open before you could think to speak, to ask what the hell he meant by your blood singing to him. Hange, followed by a man you hadn’t been introduced to stormed inside and yelling ensued without further ado. Levi was being backed into a corner and you could only blink dumbly as the words slurred together, unfocused and intelligible. 

You were standing, being led to the door but you kept looking back. The hands on your shoulders tightened when you started to resist, Levi met your eyes and shook his head once, solemnly. He threw up his hands in surrender and you wanted to die right there. The door was steps away, nothing but a pounding war drum sounded in your ears and then with startling clarity that pierced through the noise, he spoke. 

“Please, I have to know… did he taste you?” 

Your mouth opened to respond, the answer on the tip of your tongue but before you could voice it, you were in the back of the same black town car you had arrived in, with tears in your eyes and a heavy ache in your heart. 

[arthenaa]

Say Yes To Me - Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Plot Summary: After your eventful years at Hogwarts, you are now a famous magizoologist known by all. Life's great and all's well until you see Ominis Gaunt's engagement on the daily prophet.

Content Tags: that dilemma newt and tina had in fantastic beasts, yeah this is it but its you and ominis, ominis works at the ministry, mentions of ominis's older brother, gender neutral reader, sebastian being sebastian, slight angst if you squint, reader trying to keep their shit together, kiss kiss fall in love, idiots in love basically.

"Poppy! Can you please hand me the eye drops for the mooncalfs? I think I left it upstairs!"

You had yelled from your place within the Erumpent's mouth as you examined it's molars with your illuminated wand. This certainly wasn't a good position to look at, after all who would be putting their head inside a giant's mouth knowing it could very well decapitate you in seconds. However, this was the usual for you.

After graduating Hogwarts, your specialties and skills have led you to the magizoology field due to your affinity with beasts. It wasn't a big surprise to all considering you had always excelled in Beasts class and the questionable returns to the castle with a new beast curling in your arms. Professor Fig had often joked about which magical creature you'd be holding in your pocket for the day. He thinks it's absolutely comical whenever you did have one.

With your accomplishments and great efforts in defeating Ranrok, you had immediately garnered influence and reputation in magizoology, earning you the title of being the wizard world's most famous magizoologist. It certainly helped a lot with gaining access to various areas all over the world for you to rescue and release the beasts within your care.

Currently in your apartment in London, you busy yourself with a checkup on the beasts. Poppy Sweeting, a very old friend and your co-worker as well had been your partner since last year. The two of you lived together in the apartment and tended to the needs of the wondrous beings living in the magical depths of your basement.

You lift yourself from the creature's mouth, smiling as you gently caress it's horn. The Erumpent nudges your hand, unaware of its strength causing you to stumble back. "Easy Lola. Feels better doesn't it?"

It lets out a grunt before turning to do whatever it was originally doing. You let out a sigh as you turn to look up the stairs, waiting for the former Hufflepuff to come back with the eyedrops. "Poppy? Did you get lost or something?"

"Sorry! I just received today's newspaper." Poppy apologetically replies as she rushes down with the drops on her arms. She stops in front of you, a sympathetic look on her face.

"What's wrong?" You look at her, confused. She gives you the eyedrops with a sheepish smile. "You look worried."

"I— Well. It's fine," She nervously chuckles as she places the newspaper on the cluttered table behind you. "It's just the usual anyway."

You furrowed your eyebrows at her skittish behavior before shoving the eyedrops back to her arms and grabbing the newspaper from the table. Poppy tries to steal it back from you but you simply raise your hand and using your height advantage.

"I swear, Y/N. It's just the usual! You needn't concern yourself with it!" Poppy reasons as she tries to jump up and take the paper from your hands.

"You always read it out to me, I don't get what all the fuss is about if it's just the—" And there it was. Written in bold letters at the front page was a name you didn't even expect to reach the Daily Prophet. "... usual."

"I told you." Poppy sighs as she takes a step back. Your eyes were stuck on the front page, rereading the same set of letters printed on the paper.

Ominis Gaunt engaged to Eleanor Rosier. The Gaunts continue to rise.

Ominis Gaunt engaged to Eleanor Rosier.

Ominis Gaunt engaged.

You let out a shaky gasp as you hide your face with the newspaper. Poppy stares with a sad look on her face. Everyone knew of your trio. Wherever Sebastian was, everyone expected Ominis and you to be there. The three of you were stuck to the hip and it was like that for the rest of your years in Hogwarts. It was because of that fact that you'd fallen in love with one of them. Many suspected it to be Sebastian but it was in fact the blue eyed blonde that had your heart in his grasp. You had tried to hide it in your 6th year but failed because of Sebastian's meddling and so you had this weird situationship with him during your last year in Hogwarts. It was never established that you two were together but the fleeting touches and lingering glances were the reason you held on for so long.

Being a magizoologist meant that you needed to travel a lot. Mostly it was out of the country and that meant you rarely got the chance to see him after your graduation and so over time, you two had fallen out of communication. You hoped, hoped, that someday you'd be able to face him and that he would return the same feelings that he proclaimed back then in the safety of the Undercroft, your hands in his and a warm smile on his face but apparently, Merlin had other plans for you.

Poppy makes a move to comfort you but you suddenly pull away, looking at her with a crazed look. "No. No! Don't comfort me. I'd feel all the more pathetic."

"Eh, well. I've seen you in worse situations." Poppy smiles. You roll your eyes, mood gone sour as you toss the newspaper in the fireplace before pointing your wand at it and casting Incendio. Poppy looks between the fireplace and at your face. "I still needed that—"

You send her a glare to which she raises her hands up in defense. You grab the eyedrops from her and walk over to the mooncalfs who chirp at your presence. Blobs of liquid fall down the dropper as you give your undivided attention to the cute beasts in front of you.

Yeah. I'll just stay here and wallow in my misery. At least, I have my beasts with me.

"I can literally hear what you're thinking, Y/N." Poppy chuckles as she watches you tend to your creatures. "I won't let you lock yourself in here for 4 weeks."

"How'd you know it's going to last 4 weeks?" You reply as you turn to glance at her for a moment before going back to tending to the mooncalfs. "I've got a call for a Thunderbird in North America. I'd probably just bury myself in work... Forever."

"Do you really believe the news? You know Daily Prophet has a tendency to overexaggerate details. It's basically the whole point of journalism." Poppy shrugs as she plays with a loose thread on her coat. You let out a breath as you turn towards her with a deadpan look on your face.

"How can you exaggerate an engagement exactly? Tell me Poppy, I would like to be enlightened." You sarcastically reply as you finish the mooncalfs before moving on to the puffskeins. Poppy follows you, finding the situation amusing.

"I find it to be considerably suspicious. Didn't Ominis mention that he would be renouncing his own family? It's just so odd that out of nowhere he's engaged." Poppy reasons as you lift a puffskein in your arms, examining it's physique. Poppy moves to stand next to you, lightly petting the creature in your arms.

"Stop pulling ideas out of your arse, Poppy." You mumble. Poppy rolls her eyes before slapping your arm. You yelp in pain before gently putting the puffskein back with it's family.

"I'm just saying you really can't believe baseless stories unless you hear it from the source." Poppy leans on the fence surrounding the puffskein enclosure as she looks at you with a smile. You look back at her with a frustrated huff. "On the bright side, if it's true, then you'd get to finally move on!"

"Merlin help me or I will use an unforgivable on myself." You mutter as you bury your face in your hands. Poppy full on punches your arm causing you to groan. "Ow! Do it again and I'll fire you! For real, this time!"

"Yeah? Eat shit." Poppy snorts to which you flip her off. "You have no choice, you'll get to see him tomorrow anyway."

"Yeah..." You absentmindedly reply before your eyes widen in fear. "Huh? Tomorrow? What do you mean tomorrow?!"

"Don't tell me you forgot that you'd have to renew your wand permit and travel visa." Poppy chuckles. "I heard Ominis works in that department. Such a perfect timing, isn't it?"

You let out a horrified gasp as you crouch down on the floor. You'd rather let yourself be swallowed by a basilisk if it meant that you'd get to postpone seeing Ominis Gaunt (a bit of a overreaction but it doesn't matter).

"Can't you just do that for me?" You whine as you grab the bottoms of her coat. Poppy slaps it away.

"I can't renew your own wand, dumbass. I already did mine a week ago. You were too busy drinking away with Sebastian." Poppy pats your head as an apology before making her way back upstairs. "Wear your best perfume tomorrow, love! I'm sure he'll ditch Rosier for you."

Poppy winks before laughing. You glare at the Hufflepuff as she ascended up the stairs.

I can't do this. Fuck.

"You can do this, dumbass."

Sebastian grabs your shoulders, preventing you from leaving the building. It seems that the Sallow boy had taken on Poppy's role as your tormentor for the day and it doesn't help that he's an auror. Wand permits are a must and being deemed as an illegal wand owner is not really the best look for your reputation. You look back at Sebastian, giving him the best crup eyes you could muster.

"I will hurl you myself into that department if you do that again." Sebastian threatens with raised eyebrows to which you pout and frown. "I know why you're feeling so skittish today. Everyone's gossiping about it and it's not really the best thing to hear about your best friend. Talk to him. You, of all people, should know that."

You feel your body surrender to Sebastian's tough grip as he walks with you (more like drags) to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He places you in front of an office before turning you towards him as he fixes your tie and hair. You look up at him with sad eyes. "Is it too late to apparate out of here?"

"Wizards and witches can't apparate within ministry grounds. You'd have to go outside for that." He smiles brightly as he tucks a stray hair back to your hairstyle. He leans close to sniff you before furrowing his eyebrows in contemplation. "New perfume?"

"Ugh. It was Poppy's idea." You flush at Sebastian's discovery. The former Slytherin chuckles.

"He'd love that for sure." Sebastian winks.

"Shut up."

"You know he's just as whipped for you as you are for him, right?" He pats your arm before slipping his hands in the pockets of his coat. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Easy for you to say." You mumble. Sebastian's eyes crinkle as he smiles at your sulking behavior before it moves slightly to the side of your face, directed behind you.

"Sebastian." A voice you haven't heard in months was finally within your presence. You're almost too afraid to turn around but you're glad you did. Ominis had grown so well in your absence. The face once filled with soft curves had now developed more into a sharper and sculpted face. He seems more taller and leaner than before and absolutely looks dashing in his three piece suit. Your mouth falls open as you unashamedly check him out. ".... is that you, Y/N?"

You had almost forgotten to reply if it weren't for Sebastian hard nudge to your ribs. You yelp in pain, clutching your side as you glare at the man beside you. "O-Ominis, hey...."

The gorgeous man in front of you smiles nervously as he shifts in his position. "What brings you here? I've heard a lot about your travels. It seems you were quite busy these past few months."

"Y-yeah. Lot of creatures need saving, y'know?" You laugh awkwardly as you glance at Sebastian who looks like he's about to combust with how red he is from preventing his laughter.

Awkward silence engulfs the three of you and Sebastian had to calm himself down to prevent him from cracking up. "They're here for a renewal, both wand and visa. I don't want to chase a magizoologist all across the world just because they forgot basic wizard law."

"Haha, funny." You sarcastically reply. Sebastian winks at you before walking towards Ominis who leans close to whisper something to him. The blonde flushes and you can't help but wonder what the actual fuck did Sebastian say to him that got him coughing and blushing.

"I'll see you two later for lunch! Admin needs me." Sebastian waves before rushing off. This now leaves the two of you standing in the hallways of the ministry. You let out an awkward cough that alerts Ominis.

"Ah Right. Come in." He nervously opens the door to his office. You cautiously enter the room, marveling at the sight of his cozy office. Paraphernalia decorates the shelves on his walls with banners of his former house, Slytherin hung on one side of the wall. A plant is situated on one corner and an array of food is presented on one side. Comfortable chairs are positioned in front of his desk and a flashy name plate with the words 'Ominis Gaunt, Department of Magical Law Enforcement' engraved on it. What catches your eye though is a frame of you three on his desk. It was captured on your last day in Hogwarts. The picture moves as you three huddle for the picture, smiles on your faces before laughing at one another. It continues on a loop that puts a smile on your face.

"I have this on my desk too." You mumble softly as you lift the frame to admire it more. Ominis smiles before sitting behind his desk, putting his wand down and leaning back on the chair.

"Yeah. It's made quite differently for me." He extends his hand, palm facing up as he signals for you to give it to him. You place it on his hand and with a grab of his wand and a flick of his wrist, you suddenly hear sounds from the frame.

"Sebastian come closer!"

"I'm already close! Do you want me to fuse into you or something?"

"Can you guys shut up, he's taking the memento!"

Then laughter was heard. Ominis smiles at the audio before placing the frame back on his desk. "I play that whenever I miss you two."

You look at him as he fiddles with his wand, still reminiscing the memory. Whenever he misses me, huh? And Sebastian... Of course. Don't get too ahead of yourself.

"Listen Omini-"

"Y/N-"

The two of you began to speak at once and stopped altogether. A moment of silence is heard before you both laugh at the situation. "You go first." Ominis smiles with a nudge of his hand.

You look at him, remembering the details of his face as you decide that this is it. The moment you'll let go of him. It shouldn't be a surprise to you that Ominis would get married soon. He came from a family known for keeping their blood pure and while you hoped that he'd escape the grasps of his wretched bloodline, it seems like even he would not be able to and so as a good friend of his, you'll just try to be happy for his sake.

"Listen, I came here not just because I needed to renew my visa and permit. I just really wanted to tell you that I'm happy for you." You bite your lip, distracting yourself with the physical pain rather than the emotional one. Too invested in thinking of what to say, you fail to notice Ominis's face drop at your words. "I-I know it's hard but I want you to know that I'll always be here. Me and Sebastian. I'll support you and--"

"Wait! No!" Ominis abruptly stops your speech which you were grateful for because if you continued any further, you fear that you'd end up bawling in front of him. "I-I don't want you to be happy."

"Huh?"

"I mean-- I don't want you to be happy that I'm happy because it's not happy at all. But for you, I'm happy--" Ominis fumbles with his words as he grips the fabric of his pants on his knees. "It doesn't make sense but you know what I'm talking about."

Your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek before letting out a confused laugh. "... I actually don't know what you're talking about."

"I should be the one saying that to you." He whispers as he leans forward to rest his face in his hands before taking a deep breathe and exhaling. "I-I heard that you were seeing people and I just- I just wanted to congratulate you."

Seeing people? What in Merlin's name?

"Ominis." You blink in confusion. "Who told you this?"

"Uh... Sebastian?" He mumbles quietly as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

"I'm not seeing anyone, Ominis. Did you really let yourself be fooled by Sebastian, again?" You giggle as you watch his expression change from nervous to annoyed.

"That bloody fool always read me news about you. I can't believe he faked me out on this one. Of all things!" He groans in frustration. "I'll skin that boy."

"Please don't. Merlin knows we'll need him as a scapegoat for something in the future." You joke. He laughs at your jest and you almost let yourself fall all over again. "Aside that, I'm really happy for your engagement."

A confused look is back on his face again before a dreaded look appears on his face. This is the most expressive you've seen Ominis ever since he caught you sneaking out of the Undercroft. "Gods Y/N. I'm not engaged. I-It's my older brother who's going to be engaged to Eleanor. We both have similar names and the Daily Prophet assumed that it's me. I've already sent a report regarding that."

You have never felt more relieved in your life. You bury your face in your palms. "God, I thought I was about to die. I had almost tried to bury myself in work for 4 weeks because of that."

"Why?" Ominis stands up from his seat as he feels his way around and eventually kneels down in front of your seat. "Why would you want to do that?"

You remove your face from your palms before cupping his cheeks. "I admit I have made myself scarce these past few months but I have-- I still am hoping that you... you..."

You couldn't bring yourself to finish as you stare at his face that looked so full of hope and so you did the only thing you knew that would communicate the words you couldn't tell him.

"Y/N?" He softly speaks your name before you pull his face to yours and pressing your lips to his. Ominis had frozen in shock but eventually recovered as he pressed himself closer to yours. His arm encases your waist while the other cups your cheek. Lips move against one another as thousands of unspoken words flow through the air. The two of you release one another with a final peck before a smile graces your faces.

"I'm still hoping that you're in love with me." You finish as your index finger gently caresses the beauty marks that grace his skin. He closes his eyes at the feel of your touch before grabbing hand to kiss the inside of your wrist.

"Yes. Yes I am." He answers with no hesitation. You smile at his confession before pulling him in a tight hug. He releases you after a short while, hands cupping your face as he continues to leave chaste kisses all over it. You giggle at his affections. "I wasn't able to ask you back then but will you be mine? Merlin knows how long I've wanted to ask you this."

He has a hopeful look on his face that makes you want to coo and baby him but all you do is smile and peck his lips. "Of course. I'd always say yes to you."

The two of you smile and bask in each others presence before you're reminded of his face flushing earlier. "By the way, what did Sebastian say to you awhile ago?"

Ominis's face flushes before intertwining your fingers. "He told me to make the most out of your stay."

You let out an amused chuckle. Sebastian that sneaky motherfucker.

Before you could tease him about it, Ominis grabs your hips and pulls you in close. "Think Sebastian will mind waiting for a while? I'd like to heed his advice for once."

You chuckle before biting your lip as he pulls you up, grabbing your thighs and carrying you to his desk. You wrap your arms around his neck as he brushes his lips against yours.

"Go ahead, I don't think he will."

A/N: i also want to makeout w him in his office good lord. anys tysm for supporting my workss. i love writing for my two idiots <3

[m1ntch1p29]

My hyper fixation of biology and Halovians combined and this came out of it. Enjoy??? I might add to this???

GENDER DIFFERENCES -Men have bigger halos and smaller wings then women -Women have three pairs of wings(behind their ears, another on their shoulders, and the final at their waist) -Men have just two pairs(behind ears, waist) -Can fly, but women can fly farther and for longer due to having bigger and/or more wings compared to men

BIRD NOISES(???) -Can make a variety of bird-like chirps, whistles, and birdsong, but mostly grow out of it. -If around family or really stressed they'll make them anyways but it's mainly kids who chirp/warble in public -In families, each Halovian has a string of notes that are a sort of callsign. No two are the same. -Is a bit like another language but it's more rudimentary then other languages, which is why most adult halovians tend to speak instead of using bird calls. -Some halovians can mimic other people's voices, kinda like parrots do -Voices(both bird-like and not) can be super loud. Like, way too loud. A group of fifteen Halovians could probably out-screech a concert.

HALO/GENERAL BIOLOGY STUFF -Have migraines if halo is detached from their head for top long(Robin gets them often) -Halos are just straight up metal so there isn't sensation in them, like bones. However, if a halo gets snapped/broken however it causes extreme pain. -Have hollow bones that are reinforced with cartilage -Have broader shoulders and stronger upper bodies and cores compared to other human-like species     -More pronounced canines that hook in a bit more compared to regular humans, however not as much as Foxian/Vidyadhara. Have a tooth that replaces the molar behind the canine, that is drastically hook-like and points inwards towards the throat. -Like shiny and bright objects, and their homes will practically be covered in little trinkets and cool rocks. -Omnivores, tend to lean more towards fish and other aquatic animals. -Stupidly good swimmers, despite having four-six wings. -They're technically(???)mammals but like platypus they lay eggs(I'm not weird this is legit just the most logical solution to the God damn halos existing) -Females have flatter chests than other human-like species -Tend to be taller than other human-like species       -Head wing bones are cartilage, like ears

FEATHERS/WING STUFF -Look super gross as children. Look up baby birds. They looked like that but more human-like. No feathers until 3-4 years of age. -Children have more feathers, and look less scraggly, but they are still developing for the first 10-12 years of their life and cannot fly. -Teenagers start growing adult feathers, and can begin practicing to fly. They won't be able to until they reach 17-18 years of age. -Adults have fully feathered wings, and have yearly molts where their feathers shed and they grow new ones over a month period. Children have molts every five years, and teenagers every two years. -Preening sessions are needed to be able to fly, and are typically done in groups with family or people halovians hold close. A bit like braiding hair but more emotionally intimate -Feathers and wing shape vary between different species of Halovian, however they all tend to be on the longer side, with longer wings to help glide and catch air currents on the ocean. -Head-wings are typically the same colour as hair before fading into the colour of the back wings. Head wings and back wings are usually different colours. -Hair has a soft, feather-like texture to it, and there is a layer of down and small feathers on the scalp under the hair, especially near the ears. -Feathers are soft and waterproof for diving.

MISC: -Originated from a planet that has very high cliffs and a lot of ocean, thus Halovians evolved to water hunting and flying.                                 -Use their halos like fishing lures: tossing them into the water, gliding above waiting for fish to be like 'Oh hey shiny' and then diving into the water head-first to grab fish.                                  -Back in the 'ye olden days' of Halovian society men used to use the size and shine of their halos to impress people they wanted to court.  -When scared/embarrassed halovians use their wings to hide their faces and neck from view. Wings flare when stressed, frustrated or angry.                        -Giving somebody a back wing feather is saying 'I want to court you'  -Giving somebody a head wing feather is saying 'I see you as family'    -Halo jewelry is a thing. Depending on the halo it’s either dangling little charms or something winding around it. If there's any others you thought of let me know :D I'll either be doing foxians or vidyas next :)

Edit: fixed the formatting because it got weird for some reason????

Edit 2: still weird wtf, idk what's going on with it

[snapdragonessart]

Part 2 of my dragon dentition series 😊 ancients coming next! Teef info under the cut

Obelisks take inspiration from Chinese guardian lion statues, with their voluminous manes, big paws and fierce face. As such, their teeth would be similar to a lion’s dentition, with massive canines and carnassials. Although lions mainly eat land-based animals, they are also opportunistic and will sometimes eat fish and even insects. This doesn’t make up for any large part of their diet, however, and in this way they differ from Obelisks which only eat seafood and bugs. Jaguars make a better match for Obelisks in regards to food, as they eat aquatic prey more often than lions do, with one remote population of jaguars in Brazil primarily feeding on aquatic reptiles and fish.

Pearlcatchers were pretty tricky to pin down. Their body and face look almost horse or deer-shaped. Their diet is insects and plants. The only creature that came to mind for Pearlcatchers were qilins; one-horned legendary beasts from Chinese mythology. They’re fully scaled, with dragon-like faces and a body shaped like a horse, deer or goat. This seems to fit Pearlcatcher’s the most, but figuring out their dentition is another matter. There’s not really a 1-to-1 comparative animal I can base their teeth on, so I think they’d be a mish-mash of different tooth structures. They’d have larger canines, maybe like a musk deer, but the rest of their teeth would follow a more herbivorous design. They’d have large, flat molars and premolars for grinding up plants, probably similar to a horse or goat. 

Ridgebacks are basically land-sharks, no question. Their diet and face says it all. Although their snouts look more like goblin sharks to me, I don’t think they’d have those creepy mouths. Their dentition would be more like a great white; they’d have a mouth full of serrated, razor sharp teeth. Like actual sharks, Ridgeback’s would have a reserve of extra teeth in their jaws. 

Skydancer dragons present another tricky situation. They’re bird dragons, and eat plants and insects like Pearlcatchers. Although some official art shows them with teeth, I don’t think they’d actually have them. The closest structure to teeth that's found in birds is the tomia, which is the cutting edge of the upper and lower beak. Tomia is not made of enamel, but of cartilage. Seed-eating birds use this to slice through seed hulls, and birds of prey like falcons have a single sharp projection to rip meat and insects apart. Geese have tomia on their tongues, which pushes the food back towards their throat as they eat. Skydancers probably have a gizzard as well, as the tomia is not enough on its own to grind food down completely. It was hard to figure out what the Skydancer’s beak would be most similar to; out of all the more hook beaked birds, it reminded me most of vultures or eagles, although in diet they do not match them at all. Skydancer beaks are a mish-mash of different bird characteristics that I thought would fit them the most, rather than based on a single bird in particular.

Snappers are tortoise dragons, and like tortoises they’d have ridges in their beaks to help chew food. The official lore states that their beaks are “lined with molars that begin halfway down the jaw and continue all the way to the back”. Real-life tortoises don’t have teeth, so I’d imagine these structures would be like the tomia of birds. Their diet would be a mix of what tortoises and turtles eat, as Snappers eat both plants and seafood.

Spirals really remind me of ferrets, with their noodley bodies and energetic, chaotic nature. Like ferrets, they’d have sharp little canines, incisors and carnassials for shredding meat. Ferrets mainly eat meat, but will also eat bugs too, which matches up with the Spirals diet.

Tundra dragons are currently the only purely herbivorous dragon. The lore states that they have “impressive canine teeth used for combat. The majority of their jaw is set with flat, wide molars, perfect for grinding up scrub.” They’d be most similar to musk deers in dentition, with both male and female Tundras having the enlarged canines characteristic of male musk deer. The canines wouldn’t be as thin or long as a musk deer; they would be thick, robust, and fit more snugly inside the mouth. 

Last for the modern breeds, we have the Wildclaws. They’re raptor dragons, based on the Dromaeosaurids - raptor dinosaurs (velociraptors, utahraptors, etc). Like raptors, Wildclaws would have widely spaced and serrated teeth. They’d be fairly equal in shape, and would curve backwards.  Raptors were carnivorous, which fits with the Wildclaw’s meat diet.

[gingrrfrog]

hey! 🫵🏻😐

you look like you want to read a jaeji draft where Jaehyun c*ms in his pants. i'm feeling gracious, so have a 3k nsfw drabble where jaehyun is tipsy, horny, and missing his wife.

warnings: masturbation, premature ejaculation, home-made porn (jaehyun records himself fucking his wife :3c), a man who is obsessed with his wife, basically

pairings: jeong jaehyun x oc female (if you aren't familiar with my work, feel free to check out ivoire and noir on ao3)

authors: one of my many many jaeji drafts that will never see the light of day. this specifically focuses on what would've been their engagement and talking about children. please note: this has nothing to do with the current timeline <3

“Jihyun?” Jaehyun called out on a Saturday night.

Ah. That’s right. It was Saturday. Jaehyun pouted. Jihyun would still be at work and after a night out all he wanted to do was cuddle up to his fiancée and hope for some passive head, but he would have to settle with either his hand or a nap. Tipsier than he would like, he stumbled up the stairs and yanked his clothes off his body before showering.

His shower was short as he didn’t want to be standing anymore than he was tonight at the bar, falling on their bed and landing head first into Jihyun’s pillow. He inhaled and smelled her scent and sighed, hugging the pillow close to his chest.

He reached for his phone shortly after and tried his luck with a quick phone call, his eye brightening when she answered and her face appeared on the screen. She smiled brightly at him and Jaehyun could only return the smile.

“Hi, Sweet Boy,” she beamed. Jaehyun was going to ignore his lower half twitching.

“Hi,” he doped. “How is work?”

“Good, I’m coming home soon after a few things. How was the bar?”

“Boring,” he sighed, rolling on his back, “its fun when we go and you start fighting.”

Jihyun snorted, “thanks. I’m just your entertainment.”

Jaehyun laughed and pressed his lips to the camera, “come home soon. I miss you.”

“I’ll be home in an hour or two. Get some snacks and we’ll watch a movie.”

“‘Kay,” he yawned. “Love you.”

“Me more, I’ll see you in a little.”

Jaehyun did as he was told and prepared the snacks as told after ordering them via delivery. He sat in bed and munched on a bag of popcorn until it was empty, even going as far as gnawing on the kernels until his molar hurt. He gave up on the bag entirely and settled for his movie, his eyes heavy and fighting them.

He had no idea what it was about, as he used the film as a time keeper for when Jihyun would come home. By the time it was over, he told himself, his fiancée would be in his arms.

He thought the movie was an action, and for the most part, it was. There was a secondary romance plot that bored him, up until the middle.

He didn’t remember looking at the rating but was shocked to see the main characters in a graphic sex scene. It jolted him awake, watching the girl rock her hips on the man’s lap. He swallowed and shook his head.

Jihyun does that.

Once his length is nestled in her warmth she’ll start slow, gauging how fast or how slow she’ll want to go by Jaehyun’s facial expressions. Jihyun would watching him through her eyelashes, her hair falling around her up until she would bring his hand up to her soft tresses for him to wrap it around his fist the way she liked.

She was so soft and she always smelled so good. He would never be able to describe it. Her natural scent always swirled beautifully with whatever fragrance she would wear, sweet like honey and warm like cinnamon, Jaehyun had no choice but to fall into her hold.

Said man groaned at his imagination and growing erection, hoping to will it away by squeezing his eyes tight enough. The action, however, only made it worse.

He could almost hear her. Her soft breaths whenever he thrusted into her. Her moans when she found her spot inside her. Jihyun was every bit vocal in the bedroom as she was outside of it, but was quieter, gentler, with more intimacy. Jaehyun loved when his name fell from her lips the most. He loved when she choked it out in between gasps and pleas, whenever he would turn them around and he would be on top, fucking her the way she loved, and her voice hitching up a few octaves. His name was always followed by a desperate kiss to wherever she could reach, his lips, shoulder, knuckle, anywhere.

And when she came…

Jaehyun shuddered. Then froze in horror.

He sat up quickly and looked in his lap to realize he had a full orgasm in his pants without even so touching himself. Humiliated, he peeled his sticky pants off to pull on a new pair before shoving his soiled pajamas into the washer.

Back in their room, Jaehyun sat in bed. Embarrassed and still hard.

He looked at his phone and swallowed harshly.

He pushed his pants towards his knees and unlocked his phone, his lip in between his teeth as he made way through his private photo collection.

Jaehyun let out a loud moan upon wrapping his hand over his length. Photos and videos of his fiancée were plenty, especially if she was so generous to share as many as she could.

He watched as she took his cock on screen, her cheeks flushed and pink lips parted. Her pants and cries were coming through his speakers as she took whatever Jaehyun gave to her.

“Fucking me so good, baby,” she moaned. “So, so, so good, Jaehyun—fuck—“

Jaehyun’s breath shallowed, his hand quickening over his length, “Jihyun…“

“Right there, Jaehyun, please don’t stop, please, please, please—!”

He grunted and fucked into his hand, his heart racing. Surely his own face is red at this point.

“So close, Jihyun,” he breathed, “so /fucking/close.”

“Close to what, baby?”

A cold sweat fell over Jaehyun. If his face wasn’t bright red early it was now, and violently. Shocked and distracted from his orgasm, he made eye contact with his fiancée who was now standing at the door, her eyebrows raised.

No matter how embarrassed…Jaehyun continued to run his hand over his length. He wanted to die, really, to be caught jacking off like a teenager. But the way Jihyun eyed him prompted him to continue, especially since she began to peel her own clothes off.

“Were you thinking about me?” She asked meekly, pushing her shirt off her shoulders as Jaehyun nodded dumbly.

He welcomed her into his arms and immediately went for her neck, drinking up her scent and quickening his fist.

“Want…to be inside…” he mumbled, kissing her shoulder.

Jihyun tilted his head upwards to capture his lips for a kiss, once that he so eagerly return. Jihyun held his face in her hands and locked eyes with him.

“Beg.”

Holy fucking shit, he thought to himself. He almost blew it.

“Please,“ he begged, shoving his head into her shoulder, “/please,/let me fuck you Gigi, please, please let me in your pussy.”

“You want it?” She asked, pulling her underwear to the side.

“Want it so bad,” he groaned, “I want you. I love you, I want you, Jihyun.”

“You have it, I’m yours, Jaehyun,” she all but cooed in his ear.

Gripping her waist, he pressed himself against her waist and shoved himself to the hilt, listening to her whimper before rutting into her. Jihyun threaded her fingers in his hair, rocking her hips against his.

“Missed you so much,” she said into his ear. “I feel like it’s been forever.”

Of course, it was a hyperbolic statement, but there was some truth with it. Both parties were busy with their respective businesses, Jaehyun coming home exhausted and fast asleep before Jihyun came home, while Jihyun left before he woke up. To say it’s been forever was dramatic, true, but to the newly engaged couple, it was arduous.

Jaehyun moved his hands from her hips to wrap his arms around her waist, securing her chest against his own. In his own way, he explained that he missed her just as much, if not more. Snapping his hips upwards, he welcomed her lips onto his, making sure to express his love in the only way he knew how. By giving, by servicing.

“Harder,“ she breathed against his lips. Jaehyun immediately flipped them over so that Jihyun laid on her back, her fiancé ripping her bra off and attaching his lips to a nipple before increasing his force.

“Fuck!” She cried out, her legs wrapping around his waist and her nails scraping down his back. “Right there—right there, Jaehyun, please—“

Jaehyun pulled away from her chest to hover over her, a grin on his face before kissing the tip of her nose, “beg.”

Jihyun gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes, but a harsh thrust to her spot elicited a moan.

“Please don’t stop,” she pouted, her bottom lip jutting out before her fiancé pressed a kiss it it. “Wanna feel good with you, wanna cum over your cock.”

Jaehyun continued his pace again, making sure to snap his hips forcefully, “like that? Do you want it hard, baby?”

Jihyun was all but crying, her moans and curses growing louder. Her hands left his hair and reached for her pillow behind her, fisting the fabric tightly in her hands.

The sounds of their thighs slapping together bounced all throughout the room, and with the way the bed creaked under them, Jaehyun wouldn’t be surprised if he broke something or if something were to break. Jaehyun wouldn’t be lasting long himself either, his grip bruising her thighs.

Suddenly, the grip around his cock increased, creating a tight squeeze that he could barely pull out of as Jihyun cried out her orgasm. She shook under him as her fiancé continued to drill into her, sensitivity running rampant through her body as she tried to push him away just to catch her breath.

To no avail, Jaehyun continued to fuck into her anyway, groaning when he felt something warm splash against his groin and trickle down his thigh, pulling out to watch Jihyun squirt on their sheets and on his twitching cock.

“Fuck, Jihyun,” he gasped, running a hand over his length until cum spewed from the tip.

Judging by the size of the load, he was well pent up, a pool on her stomach that didn’t include the cum he pushed into her wet hole, shuddering as Jihyun squeezed against the tip.

He smiled at Jihyun’s thighs shaking before he snuggled on top of her, ignoring her whines.

“Jaehyun, we’re filthy.”

“I know,” he sighed happily, kissing her chest.

His fiancée scoffed and pushed him off to walk to the shower. Jaehyun frowned and watched as she nearly tripped and fell over, her face alight as her fiancé watched her with a grin.

“Careful.” He warned cheekily.

“Fuck you,” Jihyun huffed.

He sat laid back in bed and heard the shower go off in the background. He really should at least change the sheets, they were wet and full of…fluids. He barely managed to peel himself off before deciding the sheets were a lost cause, throwing them in the washer with his pajamas from early and starting the washer before going back upstairs.

He could make the bed. Or he could set up camp. Literally.

Jaehyun walked over towards the bathroom were Jihyun was now finished with her shower, her towel wrapped under her arms as she dried her hair.

She watched her fiancée circle around her suspiciously, her eyes narrowed until Jaehyun pressed himself against her, reaching to pull her towel off and let it fall against the floor.

His fingers caressed the goosebumps her arms and watched her nipples pebble at the cold before he took her breasts in each hand, his twitching length nestling in between her bum.

“I’m marrying you tomorrow,” he confessed in her shoulder. Jihyun snorted.

“I work a double tomorrow so I don’t know who you’re marrying.” She placed the hairdryer to the side and fell into his hold. Jaehyun nestled his cock in between her thighs and thrusted slowly.

“I just showered and you’re going to fuck me again?”

“I was going to settle for your thighs,” he admitted, pecking her neck. “But I’ll fuck your tight cunt if you want.”

Jihyun slapped him for his crude language but embraced him. “You’re disgusting.”

Jaehyun grinned, “I know. And you’re marrying me.”

“Tomorrow?” Jihyun continued the joke with a laugh, turning around in his hold to wrap her arms around his neck. Jaehyun returned the same goofy grin and picked her up to place her on the sink, kissing her sweetly despite his crass words.

“If you’ll have me,” he returned.

Much to Jaehyun’s dismay, the couple was dressed and settled for a mattress topper on the floor in front of the window. The windows were open, letting in a summer breeze and filling the room with sounds of crickets and leaves brushing against each other. Jihyun turned to kiss her fiancé in bed, pulling him up so that she was sat on his lap. He smiled as Jihyun cradled his head, her thumb on his lips and the other caressing his cheekbone. Jaehyun kissed the pad of her thumb.

Jaehyun’s eyes flitted from her lips to her eyes, leering at her through his eyelashes. “What?”

Jihyun only smiled and shook her head, granting his silent request for a kiss.

“I love you.” She smiled. The smile was pure, innocent, despite their state of undress. “You’re my best friend.”

Jaehyun swallowed harshly, his eyes scanning her face. His heart raced in his chest as Jihyun caressed the new flush on his cheek and nose.

“I really,” Jihyun took a deep breath,” really can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. You…have no idea how much I love you—how much you mean to me.”

Jaehyun smiled finally, securing his Jihyun into his arms as she pressed them down on the floor again. She listened to his heart beat wildly in his chest as she felt his hands on her shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. Jaehyun was always so bad with words, and always tried to replace that with his actions. Jihyun didn’t mind, at least, now she didn’t. It confused her at first, initially, but she knew now that the soft caress and the gentle squeeze was always an I love you more than I’ll ever be able to explain.

“I love you,” he said finally after some time passed. “But you didn’t need to hear it to know.”

Jihyun smiled, knowing that she was referring to her ear placed against his heart. It slow down some, but it was just a tad faster than usual. She laid her chin on his chest, looking up at her fiancé as he brushed hair away from her face.

“Do you want kids?” She asked. With their wedding a few months away, they should’ve had this discussion earlier. She thought she remembered him saying yes once. “Like really? Actually?”

Jaehyun picked up on her uncertainty and raised eyebrow, “Eventually. Why? It doesn’t sound like you’re too keen.”

“I do, I just could remember if you did.” Jihyun reassured, “How many?”

Jaehyun snorted, “isn’t that up to you to decide?”

“I want at least two,” Jihyun explained. “A boy and a girl.”

Jaehyun scrunched his nose and shook his head, “I’ve done my fair share of raising boys. I want two, but I want girls.”

“You don’t think it’d be nice for our daughter to have an older brother to rely on?”

“No,” he mumbled. “That’s why she has me.”

Jihyun hummed in response before perking up, sitting up instantly and holding his hand, “lets have a baby.”

“Now?“ Jaehyun shook his head, “No way. Your dad would fucking murk me.”

“He won’t because we’re getting married in two months.”

“We’ll try then.”

Jihyun whined and pulled on his hand harder, “why not!? No one is going to know. We’ll keep it a secret.”

Jaehyun looked at her in disbelief, “you? Keeping secrets?!”

“Fuck off.”

Jaehyun shook his head once more before snuggling in the blanket, “we have less than eight weeks. Be patient.”

Jihyun pouted and fell on her pillow next, playing with his fingers, “what if we made one earlier?”

“Please don’t jinx it.” Was the last thing her fiancé said before he drifted off to sleep.

[ufo-driver]

Currently thinking about how when I was 12 watching Dan and Phil, they had a cute moment and my brain went so fucking feral that I literally starting biting on my shirt and thrashing like a wild animal. Then, I felt a pain in my mouth and noticed my upper right first molar had been yanked backward by the sheer force of my biting.

To this day, it is still crooked and further back than all of my other teeth. This is the legacy that these two homosexual nerds have left on me.

[partialbirthabortion]

in what ways do you see abortion access getting worse?

There are several potential avenues of attack, short of a federal ban (which I've said I think is unlikely). In June, the Supreme Court declined to issue a ruling on Idaho and Moyle (a case regarding whether EMTALA obligates Medicare-funded emergency departments to offer abortion when necessary to stabilize a life threatening condition) so that is currently still being litigated in lower circuit courts. A Trump FDA could choose to restrict access to mifepristone, which would limit the efficacy of medication abortion. The Comstock Act could be utilized to restrict abortion-by-mail.

We will almost definitely get back the Gag Rule that Biden reversed in 2021, which means that Title X funded programs cannot counsel on or refer for abortion. I think that feels smaller to people who don't work in abortion, but I cannot emphasize enough how decimated family planning clinics were by the gag rule: you either stop providing abortion to patients who need it, or you become essentially financially insolvent (meaning you eventually stop providing abortion to patients who need it). In practice, the gag rule looks like this (a case I was personally very close to through work); a 15 week molar pregnancy really could have killed this woman, and there's a real likelihood that she has permanently lost her fertility.

We are also just a few years out from feeling the logistical repercussions of the current cohort of trainee physicians (med students, residents, and fellows) having severely restricted access to abortion training. I see this closely through work too; obgyns are graduating now with basically zero d+e experience. Even if you are in such a life threatening situation that your state restrictions allow abortion, what if there are no physicians on staff who have real practical knowledge of how to do one?