#Oh lord do I main tag this?

[obligatorytfsideblog]

@originalwinnerfanfish

It is I, fanart anon! I bring an offering. I'm still trying to figure out how to draw dragons so my bad if they look wonky.

(if the quality is shit I'm going to yeet myself down a hole)

((Also yes the credits is to c3dar. That is indeed me this is just a sideblog purely for tf stuff. I don't like to post on my main and I don't know why))

[bubble-jasmine-tea]

If two guys were on the moon and one stabbed the other with his scepter would that be fucked up or what

… okay all jokes aside I’ve wanted to figure out how to draw a scene from @thegroduschronicles old X-Naut fic for a long while now, and I wanted more practice with Posca markers, sooooo… maybe went a little overboard with this one? Oops.

Can’t say he didn’t deserve it though.

(Hey, you should also read her sequel fic for after the events of the main game - it’s great and stars Vivian!)

[winds-of-zephyr416]

You know, I’ve been having a lot of OC thoughts lately. Usually my family gets to hear most of them, but none of them are available so now it’s tumblr’s turn for insanity :)

So in my fantasy world that I’ve been building for a couple of years or so now, I have these… gods. Eldritch, celestial beings who exist as spirits in the world. They don’t really consider themselves gods, they’re really more like a lost civilization than anything, but the premise still stands.

Anyways, I’ve been thinking a lot about their culture and language lately. They don’t really have to contend with things like death, they’re very much so immortal and almost impervious to harm, so they don’t really do a lot of things for survival. They also typically communicate with a form of telepathy, so language isn’t even a necessary thing for them.

But they still have a language. They still have architecture. They still have a society that comes together to solve problems. Granted, it’s a lot different than what human civilizations look like, because of the whole “impervious to harm” thing, but they have it, and that’s what’s important.

You know what else is important? Their language. Especially their language. Good lord I am not normal about their language.

Their language is made up of sounds that mimic the world around them. Some words are built up out of rippling streams and birdsong, while others are made out of sounds impossible for us to even hear. Their words are crafted, and many are made to have double meanings and ambiguity. They can’t be ambiguous when they trade thoughts and ideas through their minds, so the notion of being able to say something with multiple meanings fascinates them. They write songs and poetry, and they are engrossed with it, because sound has never carried so much meaning before. They make jokes. They find misunderstanding hilarious, because they’re so alien to their usual way of communicating. They adore puns. Language isn’t a necessity for them, but they developed it anyway, because it gave them a new way of having fun that they had never encountered before in their billions of years of being alive.

Later on, when humanity comes into the scene, they realize that they can use this thing called language to talk to them. Humanity is not like the gods, humanity needs to communicate through a physical medium, whether it be through sight or hearing or touch. Humanity is often confused or overwhelmed when the gods converse with them, because they find that many of the sounds the gods use are completely incoherent. They can’t recreate the sound of thunder in the sky, or crackling flame, and often they look around them in fear, as if the sound alone is indicative of danger.

So, the gods adapt. They learn the languages of humanity, instead, and talk to them in their own tongues. But mortals are curious, and the gods love to learn and teach, so it isn’t long until the gods try to translate the sounds of their language into something humanity can listen to and understand. The music of the slow cracking of the earth is shifted up in pitch until mortals can hear and hearken to the sound, and the mortals in turn recreate it with what their voices will allow. Slowly, the gods make their language perceivable, and slowly, humanity teaches them how to make it pronounceable.

The resulting speech is neither mortal nor divine, but somewhere between the two. Its words have a rippling quality, and in each sentence one can almost hear what is being spoken. The word for wave becomes a low crash, the word for music becomes a dancing song in the ears of whoever is there to listen. There is no doubt that there is magic in these words, with the way they call everyone in the room to their attention and fill their hearts with the very soul of what is being said. This language is not magic in a sense of control, it does not bind things in the world to its will, but it carries with it the memory of the world it was made to describe.

Later on, this middle ground, this speech both mortal and divine, would become lost and forgotten. It would not vanish violently, with the sudden fall of an empire, nor would it fade away with the few who are “worthy” of speaking such a tongue. No, instead it would grow and evolve with the people who learned it, moving across the continent and coming into contact with new lands and people. There, it would teach and learn in turn, and then diverge again, becoming yet another middle ground.

Slowly, like this, the language of humanity and gods together disappears. It does not die, but it dissolves, morphed into a thousand little pieces that stay on in other languages. It can still be found, if you look close enough, at the way speakers arrange their words, or in the rhythms they like to sing. Not even its name is truly past, still being borne by a speech that closely resembles the one long gone.

No, the language of mortals and the gods does not die, because, even in the darkest of days, when it seems like the world will perish and all life along with it, each syllable uttered in fear echoes the language that once carried nothing but joy, and each sentence given in comfort is another window into the years when things were bright. The tongues of mortals do not forget, even if humanity itself has.

And even so, were the speech of humans ever to forget what they helped to create, the gods would still remember. And maybe, the gods would teach and be taught by the mortals once again, in spite of the mutilated darkness that enshrouds these present days. Perhaps they already have.

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

@socks-wizard-money-gang @justgoji you two are responsible for this.

[gokkyfanboy]

this scene is so funny. the hunters turn around and jack is painting roger with blood. what do you even say to that

[moonbunnyame]

OKAY FINALLY I GOT MY OC DRAWN GOD IM SUCH A PROCRASTINATOR

Anyway here she is, I'll put some of the basic lore I have for her under the cut since I don't wanna waste anyone's time

Also we'll not talk about how bad quality it is, literally just speedran getting this done so I would finally have a design to draw if I ever draw yume stuff.

So anyway, just gonna say this first that I know little about anything outside of lmk so I got no idea for accuracy but ANYWAY-

I don't have a name for her so she's just gonna be nameless or referred to the same name as me (Ame) until I can think of one.

Either way she's originally from the celestial realm and was just mainly an assistant to more important immortals, but she liked dancing so she usually did so at night time. Long story short she ended up dying and got reincarnated and in modern day she's kind of like an idol or influencer (not sure which one, I'm still working out the kinks) but she mainly does dance covers and also does various events with others.

That's the basics of what I got, I have more details in my head but I'll keep them hidden until I can work it out better in my head. And also cause I'm semi embarrassed over some details dhwkehfjfj

But yeah, woooo. Praying to god I don't get anxious over posting this because ehe, I love being socially awkward even when online. Anyway I'm gonna go hide in a hole, yall can send asks about her and shit anyway bye-

[p1nkp0nkk]

IM LITERALLY JESUS. WE ARE DOING THIS AGAIN BECAUSE YOU'RE WRON

first 5 faceless emojis are how your summers gonna go

[volfoss]

i cant even like post about the horrors that are going on currently because im gonna get too mad but oh my god. like i would give her really good credit for writing a character like marius that has 0 self awareness about his insanely disgusting behavior bc like. that CAN work. you can make the reader feel disgust and see things through the eyes of someone who is horrible while not romanticizing the behavior. clearly anne did not get the memo for this one.

[vxnuslogy]

— empty souls do not breathe, they wait.

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

premise: ajaw has always thought that after kinich's death, all will eventually bow to him as their new king. what he didn't expect was to grapple with his host's loneliness and find the reason why he sought your presence during nights that grow too cold.

— warnings: slight angst if you squint

— author's note: ajaw holds a very special place in my heart so deserves to be the main character of this fic. and after almost 24 hours of having no electricity, it'll finally leave the basement. this is heavily inspired by this comic on twt so please go give it a read! art credits to @.n249 on twt. | 2.5k words.

— tags: @ryescapades @moineauz @mikashisus @https-sourlimes ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms in my pinned!!

there was something wrong with kinich. mavuika’s eyes scanned over the wounds on the poor boy’s body and the blood dripping from his forehead. long gone was his usual bandana and golden rimmed eyes were now tainted with a strange red. 

this man is not kinich.

“so kinich has fallen, too,” her voice sullen, eyes barely able to look at the husk of one of her heroes. though her stance is not tense, it certainly wasn’t relaxed either. “kinich” followed her movements carefully—the way her hands twitched towards her claymore, her eyes he could not read, and the unmistakable tone of her voice. the pyro archon was disappointed.

“i, too, would be disappointed if you didn’t notice, archon.” kinich dipped his head low and let out a bone chilling laugh that scratched his throat the wrong way. blood stained glove came to push his hair back as mavuika stares at the eyes that did not belong to the dendro user of the scions of canopy. 

“it was a shame for that brat to die, but oh well,” a twisted grin tugged at his lips as mavuika’s face remained passive. “it is i! the almighty dragon lord, k’uhul ajaw!”

he takes a deep breath before letting his host’s arms fall to his side. “per our agreement, i will stand in and make kinich the greatest hero for all of natlan to see!”

“and would you be satisfied with that?”

ajaw’s gaze hardened as his lips tugged into a deep frown. the pyro archon’s eyes now held a fervor brighter than any hope this entity of chaos has ever seen. was she still hoping that kinich would miraculously survive?

“are you implying that not even celestia is celebrating my return? their gift is now mi–”

“the gift you claim for yourself does not respond to you,” ajaw flinches back, eyes zeroing into the vision of his person as his fists shook in rage. “dreams will die if their master has fallen. there’s more to the contract between the two of you than you think.”

ajaw sees red. teeth snarling into a disgusting scowl as he readied kinich’s weapon—ignoring the way this too did not answer his call for blood. “are you mocking me, archon?”

much to the dragon’s surprise, the woman laughs. she laughs. at him? he’ll never know because he’s already zipping away from the scene. 

“this is merely a trial, a simple waiting game.” 

“why the hell am i using that servant’s party tricks!” ajaw screams as he lands in the far distance. he’s been using kinich’s grapple hook to come to and fro natlan these days as his mind flies back to this boy’s archon and her infuriating claims. “bwah! forget it, i have other things to deal with like–”

“kinich?”

like you.

the person from kinich’s life that he’s persistently pined over for years on end—ajaw even thinks kinich does it unintentionally, the boy was missing a few screws in the emotional department after all.

ajaw doesn’t answer back. he just blankly stares how your face is drained of its color. the way your fist grips at your chest like you're about to rip your heart out and the shaky–afraid–smile you flash him as you come to sit beside him.

you kept your distance—normally you’d sit so close your fingers would slightly entangle with kinich’s. ajaw observes you from the corner of his eyes before looking at natlan in the distance. back in his pixelated prison form, he could barely see natlan as a whole, just bits and pieces as he focused his energy to disturb and plan kinich’s untimely death.

“what are you doing here?” 

how strange, ajaw didn’t mean to voice that question out in the open. especially with the way you look at him as if your world had crumbled to dust, leaving no trace of your home to pick up. something tugs at ajaw after your blank answer. the great almighty dragon lords do not feel, they wreak havoc, instill control, so why? why was this heart beating in such a melancholic rhythm?

“let’s go,” he says as he slowly comes to a stand, trying to mimic kinich’s attitude and actions towards you to the best of his abilities. you look at him, tears threatening to spill, yet you still smile and take his outstretched arm. ajaw doesn’t voice how you immediately drop his hand when you stand—you always hold kinich like your final lifeline, so why are you letting go?

ajaw understands, he simply won’t accept this fact.

you loved kinich, not ajaw.

you wanted kinich, but you still treated ajaw with the same treatment.

you treat his wounds with care, apologizing whenever he winces and flinches, pressing soft kisses to the calluses of his hands and his forehead. you let him listen to your beating heart that drummed the same melancholic melody and wipe away at the tears he never acknowledges whenever the figure of kinich’s dismantled body haunts him at night. 

you acted as if you loved him and ajaw can’t live with this anymore.

so he runs away—punishes himself into confinement until you won’t be able to follow him. and then he thinks. sitting silently on a patch of grass as the sun slowly fades into another dreadful night. now that he’s left alone to grapple with all the uncontained emotions kinich himself couldn’t answer, ajaw finds himself at a loss.

“hey kinich,” he whispers to the wind, a bare hand filled with scars and scratches—free from the gloves that didn’t fit him—tug at the fabric of his shirt, right above his heart. “have you always been this lonely?”

ajaw hugs his knees, hand grabbing at his hair harshly–this body did not belong to him, he does not deserve your kindness or love. he won’t admit it, but now under the scrutiny or judgment of no one, ajaw comes to finally admit of his stretched jealousy for you and kinich. how come this insolent servant of him had someone who deeply cared about him despite his attitude? someone who was born to accompany him through thick and thin, to infuriate and fret over but still share whatever he or you could share with one another. neither of you left each other, and ajaw wanted that.

will ajaw have to live his life like this? chasing after the shadows of your relationship with kinich until his legs finally gave out? 

“ugh! i hate you kinich!” he screams into the wind as they howl back.

“don’t say that, ajaw,” his world stills and the already chilly breeze turned colder. there you were, under the light of a fading sun with a small smile on your lips. “you’ll hurt kinch’s feelings.”

he scoffs. grip tightening as he buries his head on his arms. “then he can stay dead if he can’t handle some words from me! my servant,” his voice quivers slightly. his breathing shakes and turns shallow as you step towards him. “don’t come near me!”

you take one step, then two, then you’re sprinting to ajaw before he could run away for a second time. you cradle his head to your chest as you let his iron grip bruise your arms and silent tears be soaked in your heart. 

“my kinich would not be offended by me!”

“i know he won’t,” you say in a whisper, hand rubbing circles to his back and ajaw finally comes to understand why kinich always sought you out each night when his past comes to haunt him. you kept his fears at bay with your overwhelming love for him. ajaw wonders if there’s also some love from you reserved for him. 

the following nights, ajaw spends his time in your arms as you tell him stories from your childhood. how kinich had saved you from a safety malfunction when you went bungee jumping, the kinds of flowers you press into your journal, and the many photos from your family in different nations.

“do you not miss them, human?” ajaw asks, another photo from your mother as she stands in front of a quaint flower shop in fontaine. you only smile and tuck away another album under your bed. the sight of ajaw curiously sifting through your photos—from family, friends, and kinich—makes something swell in your chest. it bloats and bloats until you’re sure it can hold all of natlan with ease.

“i do,” you reply, sitting by the edge of your bed and looking at the dates written behind each photo. “but at least they send me things so i know they’re doing well.”

ajaw frowns in contemplation. “will they come home?”

will kinich come home?

you don’t voice out the question that’s floating in ajaw’s mind and just smile. watching the flame from the small lamp on your bedside table flicker, your reflection staring right back at you as you meet ajaw’s gaze. 

“they will, we just wait.” 

ajaw frowns. “waiting means to waste your efforts to hope for a miracle.”

despite his harshness and pessimism, you chuckle. gathering all the stray photos, you put them back neatly in the album. as you make your way to the window to close the window, you turn back to ajaw. “an empty soul does not breathe, it waits. you’re waiting, too, ajaw.”

“i am not waiting for that vermin!” he protests with a huff. you laugh as he falls back on your bed, both hands behind his head as he stares at your bedroom ceilings. a contemplative expression falls on his face as the furrow of his brows from embarrassment finally eases. “is he even still alive?”

you hum as you lay beside him. your eyes gaze at the still blazing vision on his pants and close your eyes. “a person’s vision is their ambition. they die out when it's been fulfilled or when its master passes,” ajaw looks at you with storm clouds in his eyes but you shift in your position and gently close them with your hands. “so long as kinich dreams, he’ll still live. he’s not the type to leave business unfinished.”

tonight ajaw dreams—he hopes that your belief turns out to be true. in the blanket of night he’s grown to be afraid of, he sees you and kinich. but strangely enough, he sees himself in between you two—not as an obstacle, but as a part of your happiness. ajaw finds himself really liking this dream. 

the night kingdom, like its name suggests, is a perpetually cold and dark landscape with only the wayob in front of him casting a faint light. small engravings of his ancient name glows in a light purple as he gazes at his hazy body. surprisingly enough, his bandana still stayed securely on his head. 

“seems like i’m still under the wayob’s protection,” he says to no one in particular as echoes about a flame burning bright eases his worries. “if i’m still here then surely we must have won.”

kinich was about to turn and walk away—to where? he’s not quite sure. as he takes a step after another, the wayob—the original bearer of his ancient name—speaks to him in a voice he can only describe as all knowing; omniscient like his archon.

“you seem troubled, “malipo” kinich,” it said and this makes kinich stop in his tracks. “do you not trust your little companion to bring you victory?”

kinich doesn’t answer immediately. he takes his time to weigh out the answers he could reply with. “trust is a strong word. we’re only bound by a contract after all. i’m simply weighing the chances of my gamble.”

the wayob chuckles, deep and fatherly. kinich felt his shoulders start to relax a little more as the wayob continued to speak to him. “bearers of the “malipo” name are often accompanied by saurian companions through thick and thin. some, if not all, of them had an unbreakable bond between them.”

“so i’ve heard,” kinich says, arms crossing over his chest as he questions, “but a lot of people have questioned your judgment because of it.”

kinich hears a chuckle again as he hears something akin to glass breaking in the distance. 

“i’m well aware, “malipo” kinich. which is why i’m glad,” when kinich looks up to the dark sky, hundreds of shattered fragments rain down on him but he doesn’t shield himself. he feels his heart beat a little faster when he catches sight of his body—lacking his bandana and gloves—land a few feet away from him.

“my judgment was proven right, once again.”

“wait–” but the wayob had lost its glow. kinich doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it further as his own body possessed by a small dragon is grabbing him by the shoulders and screaming at his face.

“consider yourself lucky that i see some value in you “malipo” kinich!” the dragon shouts as he raises his hand, the same hand he always uses to summon ajaw’s power before being blinded by a green glow. “consider this an investment! so you better bring in some profit or i’m taking your beloved as hostage!”

a persistent series of knocks on your front door rudely awakens you from your slumber. grumpily leaving your bed, you try to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you prepare yourself to berate whoever is at your door at this ungodly hour.

“what is it—”

“you win this time, human!” a small dragon screams at you. you blink a few times as you hold out both your hands for ajaw to land on as he huffs and obliges. “i’ve fulfilled my end of the deal, so you better keep yours!”

“please don’t tell me you actually made a deal with him…” when you look up, you feel tears threaten to spill from your eyes again. kinich stands there, a sheepish hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at you in distress. you let ajaw go and let your hands drift to kinich’s face, dragging them under his eyes and tracing over his lips as a ghost of a smile starts to form.

you chuckle in disbelief. “yeah, maybe i have.”

“i hope you know the consequences of your decision,” you sneak a peek at ajaw who has his little pixel arms crossed over his chest. you turn back to kinich, a smile on your lips as you tug him inside your not so empty home. “you’ll just have to wait and see.”

ajaw quietly watches as you make kinich some food, a homely ambience blankets the house as you and kinich catch up. he’ll never openly admit it, but he’s glad you agreed to his deal. he feels kinich’s eyes follow him like a hawk as he sits himself down on your shoulder. you offer him a spoon of food but he only huffs in decline. 

you’re waiting has paid off, though ajaw will never verbally admit. the other half of both your souls has come home and your statement was proven right: ajaw’s soul—as well as yours—will always wait for kinich to come home.

and kinich smiles, because like ajaw, he’ll never verbally admit how he’s been waiting for him to save him from the night kingdom all this time.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[novaursa]

Web of Gold (honeymoon)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Paring: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: royal wedding

- Next part: addendum

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995 @thisbiann @whiteoakoak

The tour of the realm—the grand honeymoon Aegon had so eagerly promised—was supposed to be a diplomatic gesture, a way for you and your new husband to visit various lords and strengthen alliances. In reality, however, it was quickly becoming one of the most entertaining—and slightly absurd—experiences you had ever endured.

From the moment you and Aegon set out from King’s Landing, it was clear that Aegon had no intention of treating this tour with the gravitas expected of a king and queen. He was far more interested in the celebration aspect of things. Every castle you visited, every hall you entered, Aegon treated as if it were a grand feast thrown in his honor, no matter what the occasion.

It started in the Reach, where you were welcomed with open arms at Highgarden by Lord Tyrell, who was clearly under the impression that this would be a formal visit of state. But Aegon, with a goblet of wine already in hand before your first meeting even began, made it quite clear that he had different priorities.

“My lord,” Aegon said with a broad grin, clapping the startled Tyrell lord on the back, “I’ve heard your harvests are the finest in the realm, and your wines even finer. Let’s see if your reputation lives up to the tales!”

You had to stifle a laugh as the poor lord blinked, clearly taken aback, but before he could respond, Aegon had already started ordering another round of drinks for the both of you, as if this were a tavern and not the stately halls of Highgarden. Needless to say, the formal diplomacy soon devolved into an impromptu drinking competition between Aegon and Lord Tyrell, which ended, unsurprisingly, with Aegon declaring himself the victor—though the Tyrell lord was too tipsy to argue by the time it was over.

You leaned over to Aegon at one point, watching him slosh another goblet of wine in his hand as he grinned widely. “Aegon, darling,” you said with mock seriousness, “I do believe we were supposed to discuss matters of state, not… sample the entire vintage of the Reach.”

Aegon chuckled, leaning in to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “Oh, Y/N, don’t be so serious. I’m the king; I can do both.” He winked at you, though his aim was slightly off, thanks to the wine. “Besides, isn’t this more fun?”

It was hard to argue with him when you were laughing as much as he was. And while you certainly hadn’t expected the tour to take this direction, you had to admit—it was far more entertaining than sitting through endless, dull meetings.

After Highgarden, you traveled to the Riverlands, where Lord Tully welcomed you with a lavish banquet. It was supposed to be a more subdued affair, given the Riverlands' recent struggles with uprisings, but Aegon once again found a way to turn the evening into something far less formal. By the time the main course had been served, Aegon had somehow convinced the entire Tully family to join him in an impromptu archery competition in the courtyard, all of them still in their fine dinner attire.

“Come now, Y/N,” Aegon called to you from across the courtyard, bow in hand. “Join me! Let’s show them how it’s done.”

You raised an eyebrow, standing at the edge of the gathering with a goblet of wine in hand. “Are you suggesting I try to shoot a bow in this gown?” you asked, glancing down at the intricate layers of silk and embroidery. “I’m sure the Tullys would love that.”

Aegon grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “If anyone can pull it off, it’s you.”

Rolling your eyes but unable to resist, you made your way over to him, accepting the bow he handed you with a flourish. The lords and ladies gathered around watched with varying degrees of amusement, clearly not expecting much from the queen. But with a wink at Aegon, you drew the bowstring and released the arrow, which sailed through the air and landed with a satisfying thunk—right in the center of the target.

The crowd erupted into applause, and Aegon let out a loud cheer, clearly more impressed than anyone else. “That’s my queen!” he declared, throwing an arm around you and pulling you close, much to the delight of the watching lords and ladies.

By the time you reached the Stormlands, word had spread about the rather unconventional nature of your tour, and Lord Baratheon greeted you both with a knowing smirk. “I hear you’ve been making quite the impression across the realm,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Aegon grinned, clearly proud of himself. “Ah, well, I find it’s better to… engage with the people, you know? Keep things lively.”

You smiled sweetly at Lord Baratheon, though you could see the glint of amusement in his eyes as well. “It’s true,” you added. “Aegon certainly knows how to keep things interesting.”

And so it went. Every castle, every lord, every gathering became less about politics and more about the sheer fun of it all. Aegon, for all his recklessness, had a way of turning every situation into a celebration, and while it certainly wasn’t what you had anticipated for your honeymoon, you couldn’t help but enjoy it.

As you sat beside Aegon one evening, the two of you watching the sunset over the Stormlands after yet another lively feast, he leaned over, resting his head on your shoulder with a contented sigh.

“Well,” he said, his voice softer now, the effects of the wine finally wearing off, “I hope this has been everything you wanted, Y/N.”

You chuckled, wrapping an arm around him and resting your head against his. “It’s been more than I expected, that’s for sure,” you replied with a grin. “But I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

Aegon lifted his head, gazing at you with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Good. Because the fun’s not over yet.” He winked, leaning in to kiss you. “We still have the Westerlands to visit, and I have a feeling your Lannisters kin will be just as easy to outdrink as the Reach.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see about that, Aegon. We’ll see.”

Back at the Red Keep, while you and Aegon were off turning the realm into your personal festival circuit, Dowager Queen Alicent paced the halls with mounting frustration. The soft clack of her shoes against the stone floors echoed through the corridors as she moved from one chamber to another, her face set in a deep scowl.

Every day seemed to bring a new report of Aegon’s increasingly ridiculous antics on this “honeymoon tour.” The letters from various lords were enough to make her blood boil—lavish parties, archery contests in formal wear, impromptu wine tastings. This was how her son was representing the crown? By gallivanting around Westeros like a drunken fool with you at his side, fanning the flames of his excess?

Alicent couldn’t help but bristle at the thought of you—you with your golden hair and saccharine smile, always indulging Aegon’s whims, always filling his goblet and laughing at his every joke. And now you were doing it across the entire realm, parading around like the perfect, doting queen. It was infuriating.

Sitting in her solar, Alicent could feel her hands clenching around the arms of her chair. "Aegon needs to act like a king," she muttered under her breath. "Not… not like some… minstrel.”

Across the room, Otto Hightower, her father and Hand of the King, sat at the table, perusing a stack of letters. His face, however, did not mirror Alicent’s irritation. Instead, Otto looked entirely satisfied, his lips curved into a subtle, knowing smile as he read through the reports.

“This alliance with the Lannisters,” he said, his tone calm, “is proving to be a stronger one than we could have hoped for. The lords of the realm are very pleased with the union. Aegon and Y/N have created quite the spectacle, and while I’m sure some of it is less… traditional than we might have expected, the results speak for themselves.”

Alicent shot him a sharp look, her eyes narrowing. “You mean to tell me you approve of Aegon turning the tour into a debauchery?”

Otto didn’t look up from the letters, but his smirk widened slightly. “What I approve of, my dear daughter, is that the Lannisters are firmly in our grasp. Jason and Tyland are content with the match, and the realm views Aegon’s marriage as a symbol of unity. The bannermen may raise an eyebrow at Aegon’s behavior, but they cannot argue with the strength of this alliance.”

Alicent huffed, clearly unsatisfied with that reasoning. “And what happens when Aegon’s behavior becomes… more than a mild embarrassment? What then?”

Otto finally looked up, his gaze cool and calculating. “Aegon may be reckless, but he’s still king. And Y/N, for all her indulgence, has proven to be a stabilizing force. She understands what needs to be done, and if she can keep Aegon’s temper in check, then this marriage will be more beneficial than any of us anticipated.”

Alicent pursed her lips, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. She hated to admit it, but Otto had a point. You did seem to have a way with Aegon—keeping him entertained, keeping him happy. Still, it grated on her that her son was more easily controlled by you than by her. After everything she had done for him, after all the sacrifices she had made, it was you he turned to now.

But while Otto’s satisfaction was clear, there was another member of the family whose mood seemed far more difficult to decipher. Aemond, who usually maintained his composure with cold, unshakable resolve, had been unusually brooding since your departure with Aegon. He spent hours in the training yard, his sword slashing through the air with a fierceness that bordered on frustration, but he rarely spoke of what was bothering him.

Alicent watched him from her place by the window, her brow furrowing. Aemond had never been particularly fond of Aegon’s antics, but this was different. There was a weight to his silence, a tension in the way he moved. She had tried to ask him about it before, but Aemond had simply brushed her off with his usual vague remarks about duty and honor.

Now, as she watched him pace the yard below, his expression dark and unreadable, Alicent felt her frustration grow. She had come to rely on Aemond’s steadiness, his ability to maintain order where Aegon could not, but something had shifted. He was distracted, preoccupied with something she couldn’t quite place.

When she finally approached him later that day, Aemond was standing by the fire in his chambers, his arms crossed over his chest, staring into the flames as though they held the answers to some unspoken question.

“Aemond,” Alicent said softly, stepping into the room. “You’ve been… distant, lately.”

He didn’t turn to face her, but his voice was low and controlled. “I have my reasons, Mother.”

Alicent crossed the room, her brow furrowed. “Is it Aegon’s marriage?” she asked, though the question felt incomplete even as she said it. “Do you… disapprove of Y/N?”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, the silence in the room was thick enough to cut. Finally, he spoke, his voice cold but with an edge that Alicent hadn’t expected. “Y/N is more than capable of handling Aegon. She does what is necessary to keep him in line.”

The words were calm, but there was something beneath them—something Alicent couldn’t quite decipher. She narrowed her eyes, trying to understand. “Then why are you—”

“It’s nothing,” Aemond cut her off sharply, his gaze still fixed on the fire. “Aegon’s behavior will catch up to him eventually. Until then, there is nothing to be done.”

But Alicent wasn’t convinced. She had seen the way Aemond’s eye lingered on you at the wedding feast, the tension in his shoulders whenever your name was mentioned. There was more to this than he was willing to admit.

She stepped closer, her voice softening. “Aemond, if there is something troubling you, you must tell me.”

For the briefest moment, Aemond’s expression faltered, his eye flicking toward her before he looked away again. His voice, when he spoke, was quieter this time, though the edge was still there. “It’s nothing you can fix, Mother.”

And with that, he turned, leaving Alicent standing in the room alone, more confused than ever.

[zhongrin]

bound matriarch

© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli

✼ tags ┈ yandere, fem!pronouns ('wife', 'matriarch', 'goddess' used), zhongli as morax/rex lapis, set right after archon war

✼ a/n ┈ i have to be out all day today so i'm not sure if i'll be at home when this goes out but let me just say FINALLY I CAN RELEASE THIS. THIS HAS BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG (i'd also like to silently thank jessamine bc their comments on my posts were the main catalyst for me to finish this little blurb sobsob)

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

oh, what a dream it is to be the spouse of the strongest archon in teyvat, whom he wed right after archon war ended. some might see the celebratory wedding as something uncouth; an utter disrespect to the lives lost at war and the bereaved families, but the lord of geo disagrees. what could be a better reassurance to ensure the people of liyue would start believing in and striving for a brighter future, than the joyous union of the new geo archon who defended them throughout the arduously long war and the prosperity goddess who has the power to bless the land and its people?

you're draped in gold and red as you sign the oath in blood; sealing your matrimony amidst the cheers of the mortals and immortals alike. the ruby reds on your lips are plush and soft against their god's own, the gossamer thread of embroidered gold of your clothing matching your now-husband's attire. even the bright blue sky seemed to celebrate such a joyous occasion, casting its warm rays upon the now-peaceful land of liyue to offer you its blessing.

they do not know that one certain party was most ardently unwilling to take the vow under one of the most sacred contracts of all.

they need not know that the marriage was a desperate attempt to shackle you to him and erase your individual worth as a goddess; to ensure you are remembered as rex lapis' beloved wife, the matriarch of liyue. they need not know, for just as no one questioned why the god of freedom was not invited into the banquet, no one questioned why a sheer veil covered the lower part of your unsmiling face, or the fact that countless shackles cor petrae accessories heavily rested against your neck and limbs.

what they do know is that this is your prison home ー he is your captor home and you will never belong anywhere else.

and perhaps given a few eons, you shall learn it too. worry not, your husband is a patient god. but you best remember that a god's patience, too, has its limits.

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

[livwritessometimes]

So Long London - Lando Norris

: Lando Norris x singer!reader

: y/n is ready to move on

: Part 3 | Part 1 (Spin-off Series)

: Series Masterlist

: Spin-off Series

: Main Masterlist

: Author’s Note: And with that we come to the end of Love lost series. I hope you guys liked it (if so do let me know) 💕 also I had no idea there was a 30 photo limit!! Had to delete 2 photos for the story to make sense.

…

Yourname added to their story!

seen by User48 and 76,021 others

| User48 replied to your story

-> why are you here?? Didn’t you and Lando break up! Why are you still hanging out with his friends??

| User02 replied to your story

-> Yessss I’m so glad you’re here to support max 💕

liked by maxverstappen1 and 65,528 others

👤: maxverstappen1, schecoperez, kellypiquet, redbullracing

Yourname: Congratulations Max and Checo!! P1-P2 💪🏻 (also last slide is max emilian’s live reaction to the tea ☕️)

view all 52,301 comments

schecoperez: Thank you y/n 🙌🏻

*liked by yourname*

maxverstappen1: you swore you won’t use the 3 pic 😃

-> Yourname: Yes and I lied 😙

redbullracing: Thank you for coming y/n 💙 you’re always welcome here!

-> Yourname: Thank you for having me 🫶🏻

*liked by redbullracing*

kellypiquet: The 2 pic is so cute!! Send that to me <3 also I’ve been telling you that max is a girls girl 🎀

-> Yourname: Sending!! And yesss I believe you now

-> maxverstappen1: :/

*liked by kellypiquet, Yourname*

User62: I wonder what Lando has to say about their friendship

-> User48: I know right like you’re no longer a wag stop trying to be one

-> User50: umm first of all Max and Kelly both are friends with y/n (and dare I say they’re closer to her than him) and second of all she can do whatever she wants!!

*liked by kellypiquet*

Yourname added to their story!

🎶 The Night We Met by Lord Huron 🎶

seen by alexandrasaintmleux and 76,021 others

| alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story

-> let’s meet tom? Have a girls dinner!!

Yourname: are you sure? I don’t want you to take on unnecessary stress just because of me

-> ofc I’m sure!! And don’t say that, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other

liked by charles_leclerc and 83,294 others

👤: alexandrasaintmleux, kellypiquet, lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, iamrebeccad

Yourname: Previously on Gossip Girls!! (missing @/lilyzneimer and @/carmenmmundt)

view all 68,361 comments

Yourname: also @/charles_leclerc I stole your girlfriend!! She’s mine now <3

-> charles_leclerc: Whatttt!!! 😨

-> alexandrasaintmleux: yes @/charles_leclerc it’s true

-> charles_leclerc: Alexx!! we have a child together 🐶 think about him

-> Yourname: oh yes! Forget to tell you, we get Leo’s custody 🐕 I got your girl and your dog leclerc 😌

-> alexandrasaintmleux: sorry baby but it is what it is 🤷🏻‍♀️

User13: why is no one talking about the last slide 🫢

User32: I bet the reason why lily is not here is because she’s staying loyal to Lando and McLaren!!

-> User02: ????? Lily is Oscar’s girlfriend why would she stay loyal to Lando!!

liked by User04 and 32,942 others

👤: landonorris, magui_corceiro, Yourname

F1updates: Lando Norris spotted with a new beau! The McLaren driver was recently seen attending the Monte Carlo Masters Finals with Portuguese model Margarida Corceiro. Fans spotted the two getting dinner after the event. Norris recently ended a 5 year relationship with Singer Y/n L/n. There has been no confirmation from either the two about whether they are dating or not. Only time will tell if it’s time to welcome a new wag in the McLaren garage.

view all 26,305 comments

User04: I’m so happy for Lando to finally be with someone worthy!!

User79: she’s so pretty 😍

User05: can’t believe he wasted 5 years of his life with y/n

User86: why would you tag y/n in this?? It’s not even related to her

-> User51: why else, she deserves to know how happy Lando is after he left her

User01: that’s so soon!! Didn’t he just got out of a FIVE year long relationship?

-> User74: it’s been 2 months relax he can do whatever he wants

Yourname added to their story!

seen by User33 and 59,621 others

| User33 replied to your story

-> hmmm weird timing to post this 👀

landonorris added to their story!

seen by Yourname and 96,204 others

| Yourname replied to your story

-> so five years meant nothing to you

landonorris: why do you care? It’s not like you did that during our entire relationship

-> what do you even mean by I didn’t care!! I was with you through everything! All your wins and all your losses. How can you say that after I’ve given you so much

landonorris: I loved you but you never bothered seeing any of my efforts. There’s no point of arguing, after all this time you’re still the same old selfish clueless person who let us go. You were never there when I needed you, and now that I am happy you can’t seem to digest that. Move on and let me move on as well.

*seen by Yourname*

liked by User02 and 83,574 others

Yourname: You’ve been on my mind, and I’ll waste my time 🚬

view all 65,026 comments

User02: prettyyy 💋

User96: girlll are you okay you’re quoting cigarettes after sex 😀 I don’t think you are okay

-> User21: are we all gonna ignore the fact that the next line is “‘til you lift me off the floor and love me again”

*Incoming Call from Y/N*

Kelly: “Hey how’s your night going? I just saw your post-“

Yourname: “kell” y/n said as she tried to control her breathing. “I texted him after I saw his story. He’s blaming me for our break up. I- i did so much for him and now he-“

Kelly: “ok sweetheart listen to me, first try to take a deep breath. Now tell me exactly where you are Max and I will come and get you”

Yourname: “I’m near our regular bar”

Kelly: “okay we’re on our way. Just stay where you are and we’ll get you. And know this y/n it’s not your fault. You guys breaking up was not your fault! don’t let his nonsense get to you. We’re almost there, see you in 5”

liked by User99 and 62,838 others

👤: Yourname, maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

Celebritygossip: Singer Y/n L/n was spotted crying outside a bar by some of her fans. The fans claim that the singer was hysterically crying over the phone. Bystanders also said that they saw Formula 1 driver Max Verstappen and his girlfriend Kelly Piquet arrive at the location trying to console L/n. This news comes right after L/n was seen partying according to her last Instagram post. There has been a lot of speculation going on behind this breakdown, but many believe this is the aftermath of L/n’s ex, Lando Norris confirming his new relationship.

What do you think about this situation? Let us know in the comments down below.

view all 53,829 comments

Yourname added to their story!

seen by User02 and 63,027 others

| User02 replied to your story

-> 💙💙

liked by kellypiquet and 75,728 others

Yourname: Gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean 🤍

view all 61,839 comments

kellypiquet: 💕

liked by User99 and 62,838 others

👤: Yourname

Y/nNews: It is being reported that singer Y/n L/n has sold her house in London. The singer bought this house in 2019 and lived there with her now ex-boyfriend Lando Norris. The couple broke up a few months ago. Since then, the house has been occupied by L/n alone. There has been no news about whether she bought a new house yet. Stay tuned for more updates!

view all 61,839 comments

liked by kellypiquet and 82,738 others

👤: kellypiquet

Yourname: A much needed day out! (Also Kelly was concerningly good at the gun range)

view all 74,838 comments

kellypiquet: what can I say I’m a women of many talents 💪🏻

-> Yourname: that you are (@/maxverstappen1 hide all sharp objects in the house)

-> maxverstappen1: So glad you guys had a good time 🥰 (way ahead of you)

-> kellypiquet: 🙂🙂 (y’all better run)

-> Yourname: 🏃🏻‍♀️

-> maxverstappen1: 🏃🏻‍♂️

-> User61: these two are such clowns 😭

*liked by kellypiquet*

liked by User31 and 88,025 others

Y/nUpdates: Y/n L/n at the Variety Interview “I guess I’ve been exposed to the world in a sense, people prey on that and take advantage of that. They twist it in a way that you don’t always expect.” L/n got emotional as she continued “Sorry I didn’t mean to do this, but it is such a hard thing to balance, because how do you be honest without jeopardising anything. It is very easy to feel out of control and I feel so grateful to be with family and friends who have been with me through my toughest time.”

view all 79,628 comments

User31: It’s so heartbreaking to see her get emotional while talking about the negative effect that fame has on a person.

User08: I’m so glad to see that she’s doing better! It’s nice to finally see her happy and smile genuinely 💕

User22: Not her mentioning Max, Kelly and P as the family she has made along the way 🥺🥺

liked by Yourname and 111,838 others

👤: maxverstappen1, Yourname

kellypiquet: Home sweet home 🏠

view all 92,837 comments

User02: Alt caption: Max and Kelly with their overgrown child 👧🏻

*liked by maxverstappen1, kellypiquet*

Yourname: 💕🧿

-> Yourname: also tell max he better hide 😃 because when I find him, I will hit him with the same shoe 👟 he kicked me with

-> maxverstappen1: You’ll never catch me 😌

-> Yourname: P told me where you are 😈👟

-> maxverstappen1: 🏃🏻‍♂️💨

-> User66: at this point I feel P is only smart person in this household besides Kelly

*liked by kellypiquet*

User01: I live for all the y/n x P content! It’s so wholesome 🫶🏻

*liked by Yourname*

Yourname added to their story!

(You know what time it is 🎶)

seen by User02 and 69,737 others

liked by kellypiquet and 99,261 others

Yourname: Sometimes when you have something for so long, life without it feels meaningless. All these years you’ve spent building up something so special, only for you to watch it crumble right in front of your eyes. It takes a lot of strength to move on and finally let things go. But that is part of life, slowly you learn how to breathe again. It took me a long time to be okay and today I release a part of myself to the world that I no longer am. I hope that you can find it within yourself to let go and move on. Here is So Long London.

view all 91,739 comments

liked by User13 and 54,986 others

Y/nfanclub: Honestly speaking if I were y/n I’d be mad as hell too! I mean just look at London 💔

view all 46,728 comments

User13: But it’s a different kind of pain when someone ruins a place for you. @/Yourname I hope that you get to love London again ❤️‍🩹

Yourname added to their story!

seen by User44 and 69,737 others

[terastalungrad]

The really annoying thing about the "male-presenting Time Lord" line is that, if you remove the gender essentialism, it's very nearly brilliant.

Let's look at the scene:

DOCTOR We've still got to fix you two, because the metacrisis might have slowed down, but that thing is wrapped around your cortex.

DONNA Yes, we know.

ROSE We know everything, thanks.

DONNA And you know nothing. It's a shame you're not a woman any more, cos she'd have understood.

ROSE We've got all that power, but there is a way to get rid of it. Something a male-presenting Time Lord will never understand.

DONNA Just let it go.

ROSE And we choose to let it go.

SHAUN Like I said, mate. How lucky am I?

ROSE After all these years, I'm finally me.

... and let's work out what's happening.

Donna says "cos she'd have understood". Not, "cos you'd have understood". She's not saying the Fourteenth Doctor would understand if he was a woman. She's saying the Thirteenth Doctor would have understood.

Because - we know from Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle - Donna saw the Thirteenth Doctor. And here, before letting go of the metacrisis, she remembers the Thirteenth Doctor. She can see the ways she was different from the Tenth/Fourteenth.

Donna's talking about letting it go. Letting the Doctor go. Allowing yourself to become what you're supposed to be.

The Tenth Doctor - Donna's Doctor - could never do that. His rage when he realises he's going to give his own life to save Wilf. And his dying words - "I don't want to go".

But the Thirteenth Doctor?

DOCTOR Oh, the blossomiest blossom. That's the only sad thing. I want to know what happens next. Right, then. Doctor Whoever-I'm-about-to-be. Tag, you're it.

She lets it go.

And in The Star Beast, moments before Donna and Rose let it go, the Thirteenth Doctor's regeneration was explicitly framed as a trans narrative. The Doctor is male, and female, and neither, and more.

And Rose's first words after letting go of the metacrisis? "After all these years, I'm finally me."

There's so much to love here. A literary connection between the Tenth and Thirteenth Doctors' deaths. Metacrisis as oppressive cisnormativity - without letting go, Rose can't be herself.

And it's so annoying that the final line as written is a crusty old bit of "tch, men just can't let things go, can they?" The episode gets so close to a wonderful scene that's simultaneously a love letter to the Doctor AND a really vibrant, exciting sci-fi trans story ... but at the last minute, it crashes back to earth. Caught in the mavity well of gender essentialism.

Anyway. Tell you what you should do, and that's listen to Doctor Who Redacted on BBC Sounds. A trans main character, a trans head writer. That's how you do it properly.

[notjustjavierpena]

Hurried Morning

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Back already with something for you all. Hopefully you’ll enjoy what I wrote yesterday morning. Ah! I love young Joel Miller, neighborhood dilf.

Summary: Joel neglects himself before you have to leave to give you one last dopamine high.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (minors DNI), clit stimulation, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, Joel has big strong hands and just likes to please if he is in control

Word count: 1.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47667250

Hurried Morning

Joel says that he is merely feeling generous with you as he pulls your half-naked frame into his lap, so that your back is resting comfortably against his broad chest. You want to say that he is simply lazy but it’s not like you are ever going to let that slip from your mouth.

It’s late Sunday morning and you’re both seated against the headboard of Joel’s bed. Sarah will be home just before noon, and Joel has to change his bedsheets, air out the room, have a shower and maybe fix up some lunch for him and his daughter. You, on the other hand, just have to get cleaned up and go home before she is here.

He doesn’t have to tell you about his generosity; you know he is insatiable, giving and generous by now, actually knew about a week after the first night that he had taken you to his bed. You know it is cliche to sleep with the hot neighbor, but no one knows about it yet, so you’ll bask in the beauty of how he makes you tremble until someone finds out that you’re screwing the hot single father. You pray, no pun intended, it isn’t the God-fearing Adlers.

You’re in a loose t-shirt that screams weekend, a Batman logo on your chest, but beneath the hem, a pair of cotton panties with a little bow cover your core. You rest your head against Joel’s shoulder as he rests right hand just above your belly button, it seeming undecided at whether or not to go down. His left hand is placed on top of your thigh, scratching slightly until you shiver.

“Do you have a plan with those hands?” You ask him.

“We ain’t got much time,” he muses with a sigh in his pretty little Texas accent. You squirm a little, “I’ll just have to forget myself for a moment, hopefully I’ll forgive myself for it.”

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You ask with disappointment in your tone but the left hand curls around your thigh to pull it a little to the side, opening you up for him.

“‘Fraid not, sweetheart, but I’ll have you chanting my name anyway,” he spreads out your other leg too, noses along your throat and grins into your skin as he sees your toes curl in anticipation.

“O-okay,” you reply, simply waiting for more.

Joel kisses your throat then, right hand descending to hover over your underwear. He only hesitates for a split-second before he cups your sex, fingers sliding over your cunt and then rubbing his whole palm over you to feel the warmth radiating through the fabric. You sigh contentedly.

“Feels good?” He asks, holding his hand there for a moment and a bit of slick seeps out of you. For someone who said that you were short on time together, he sure is taking it.

“Yes,” you try to breathe in deeply but the breath ends up hitching in your throat as he finds your clit on the outside of your underwear. The pads of his index- and middle finger rub slow and lazy circles.

“So this is what we’re gonna do,” he booms behind you. You ready yourself for instructions, “I’ll make you come on my fingers, and then you’re gonna go home and not think ‘bout me all day and night. Night, do you hear me? Especially all night.”

Oh good lord, that went straight to your pussy. You nod quickly, “Whatever you say. I’ll do it.”

The fingers on your clit disappear again but only so Joel can use his thumb instead, and you’re reminded of how huge his hands and fingers are. He presses down on your sensitive nub for a moment, and blood rushes between your legs.

His free hand goes from your thigh to slide up under your t-shirt, cupping one of your breasts to squeeze before his thumb and forefinger tease your nipple. It hardens immediately, and you instinctively buck up your hips. It makes Joel hum behind you, and soon, you feel his generous size poke into the small of your back. It is unbearable to remember that he told you that he won’t put it in you.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know,” he tells you as you moan into the room, turning your head so your face is towards his jaw. You have your eyes squeezed shut as he scratches a little from side to side, making you clench around nothing but emptiness. He continues speaking filth, “I know, baby. I’ll touch you properly soon. Hang in there.”

Your legs shift a little on the sheets when he starts going in circles again, coaxing more arousal out of you until your panties feel sticky. To think that you were happy that you had a pair that wasn’t ruined by him, and with a chance of being dry underneath the jeans that you were going to wear as you walked home later.

You moan a little louder as a bolt of arousal pulls from inside your cunt and goes to your clit. You can feel it pulse against the fabric, against Joel’s thick finger.

“You can have it all, baby— shit, listen to you,” he gropes your breast obscenely, even tugs a little, as he rubs you off with a little more pressure. You want more than this, want him to go inside and relieve some of the pressure that builds inside of you.

“Please, Joel,” you plead shakily, “It’s not enough.”

“I know, never is,” he removes both hands from your body but only to slide them up and down your thighs a few times, finally going inwards to grab on either side of the front of your underwear. He pulls the fabric upwards and taut against your clit, making you whimper as he doesn’t relent quickly again, “Bet you could come so prettily like this. Bet you you’ll go home and do it to yourself later whilst not thinking of me.”

Joel’s breath is hot against the shell of your ear, even slightly elevated from what the both of you are doing. He is still rock hard against you, so you grind back into him.

“Stop,” he commands immediately. His hand flies up to grab the front of your throat, fingers digging slightly into your carotid artery and making your head spin.

“It won’t go away without me,” you pout as he lets go again when your hips have stilled.

“This ain’t about me,” he tells you, then follows up patting your swollen cunt a few times on the front of your underwear. You keen, and he shushes you softly, “This is about you. About her.”

The fabric has smoothed out once more after Joel had to let go of it, so now, both of his hands slide underneath the waistband to touch you directly. He trails a finger from each hand over your labia, expertly avoiding your clit. They go down, one scooping up some of your slick by dipping into your for just a second before going back up.

You are shaking like a leaf, a string of noises leaving you. They were supposed to be words but it’s like you have lost connection to the part of your brain that controls speech. Joel chuckles behind you.

He rubs your clit again with his arousal-covered finger for a moment but then decides against it. For less than a second, you start to feel the pressures in your lower abdomen fade but then Joel uses his other hand to pull back the hood of your clit. When his slick finger starts touching you so directly, you can feel it spike immediately again. It is intense. You thrash on the bed.

“Fuck!” You cry out and look down where his hands are in your panties, moving and straining pornographically underneath the fabric, “Keep going. You’re— you’ll make me come like this.”

“That’s not the plan,” he growls in your ear, panting slightly but not making any effort to stop what he is doing, “I’ll make you fucking gush, yeah? Just like last night. Sheets have to be changed anyway or I’ll smell you on them and fuck my hand without getting any shit done around here.”

“Then do it,” you buck up into his hand like before, but this time also lifting your hips off the bed just slightly. Joel removes the finger from the hood of your clit to slam down your hips again, but despite everything, it just feels nice to not be so directly touched. You don’t want to know what you could’ve missed if you had come right now.

Roughly, the way you like it, Joel pulls your panties to the side. He reaches further down and shoves two fingers inside of your cunt, tilting his wrist downwards to finger against your g-spot quickly. The wet squelches of your wetness fill the room along with your mewls as your orgasm builds again without warning.

Your hands find purchase on Joel’s strong thighs but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Something is building right behind your clit, all muscles around your womb tightening like a coil being pulled. You want it, want it to snap.

“Please, please, please, oh fuck, Joel, make me come,” you are inconsolable, knowing that you’ll start sobbing if it doesn’t happen soon.

“Should’ve had a mirror right in front of us, so you can see my fingers sink into your little pussy,” he moans for the first time, feeling your walls flutter around his two digits and your clit throbbing against his index finger on the other hand. He rubs you and fucks you open in earnest.

Your right hand reaches up to cup the back of his head, fingers curling into the soft hair at the back of his neck. You hold on for dear life, pulling then to embrace what is coming. Joel growls behind you.

And then it happens. Everything that has been pulled tight releases into a high that has you feeling like you’ll melt into the mattress or lift off into the air from it. Your legs shake violently, and as soon as Joel notices the first spasm of your cunt, he pulls his fingers out to see the wet gush that leaves you and forms a stain on the sheets. He fingers you again and repeats the move, watches you gush a few times more.

You quickly grab at his wrist with a sharp intake of breath when the over sensitivity sets in. He stops moving his fingers on you and instead cups what he feels is his more than yours.

“Christ,” you hear him mutter, attempting to rub your cunt soothingly but you whimper, gripping his wrist tighter. He kisses behind your ear, “Wore the little plaything out, didn’t I?”

“What time is it?” You ask quietly, exhaustedly.

“We have an hour,” Joel says after looking at his wristwatch that is on the bedside table, “Think you should take a cold shower, soothe yourself a little.”

“You’re not joining me?” You look up at him with big innocent eyes. They’re pleasing but Joel is strong enough to resist.

“I’ll clean up here, finish up here too or we won’t make it out of the bathroom in time. Can you stand?”

You accept it.

“Yes, hold on,” you crawl off of him, avoiding the wet spot on the bed. You’ll accept anything from a man that has just given you an earth shattering orgasm.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I came back from the movie theaters (Fnaf Movie) My lord I FREAKING LOVED IT THE WHOLE THING IDC AHHH Ahem-

I saw that requests are open, SO a Platonic Headcanon Request if you don't mind, Fnaf (Movie) Animatronics with Gender-Neutral (17-soon to be 18) Reader as the new security guard? or maybe tags with Mike and possibly Abby? (Reader ain't tall just-idk 5'2 maybe I am projecting-)

(I know this request doesn't make sense because of the tiredness due to staying up late because of excitement. Feel free to delete this ask if its too complicated)

bonus: If you want to, You can also Include Chica's Cupcake

Have a nice day/night, From 📞 ☕ (PhoneCoffee) Anon

Oh I can definitely work with this ^^

......

When you started working at Freddy's overnight, you hoped this would be your last summer job ever before you turned 18.

"Steve" said it was all pretty straightforward: watch the cameras and make sure nobody broke in.

Easy as pizza pie, right?

Well, when you realized one of the animatronics very subtly moved from their usual spot, you wanted to check them out for yourself.

Plus, sitting in the office for six hours every night would def get boring as hell.

So you head to the main stage area, finding the whole gang mysteriously gone--Foxy included.

Then you get surprised by them emerging from different places in the pizzeria, eyes glowing a sinister yellow as they surround you, wary of your intentions.

"O-Oh hey..um..Fazgang?" You try your best not to look so terrified.

Surely someone was controlling them, right? They couldn't possibly hurt you.

Yet they stop and collectively realize "wait, isn't this a teenager? And why are they working this job??"

But since you're not wrecking anything in the pizzeria (or screaming bloody murder unlike the last guard), they spare you and are just very chill overall.

You now start to believe all the rumors of them being haunted by little children.....although not even that scares you.

On the second night, you learn that they can understand simple drawings--and that's how you pretty much communicate with them and build up trust.

While Bonnie is regarded as the "most aggressive", he was a real sweetheart who let you shine his guitar and hugged you tightly to express his thanks.

Alas you haven't found a way to stop it from constantly short-circuiting when he strums it...but you vow to figure something out.

Chica was equally as sweet, although for some reason Carl the Cupcake made you feel nervous.

The way he can be on the plate one moment and then disappear the next makes you worried that he'll sneak up on you and bite your ankles off.

But as long as Chica's around, that won't ever happen.

Although Foxy looks quite dangerous, you try your best to patch up the hole in his chest using some spare parts from backstage while being oblivious to the deadly Freddy mask saw trap in the corner, something he's grateful for.

He even sang you a little sea shanty as thanks!

Freddy was the first to be suspicious of you, but after seeing a drawing you made of him, he grows to like your presence, too. Especially after how nice you've been to his bandmates.

So you definitely survived more than five nights at this place--longer than anyone so far.

When Mike gets hired and comes in for his first shift with you, he's surprised that a teen is training him.

He suspects this was some lousy summer job you were forced to get and thinks you're gonna act miserable the entire time you work together and not actually teach him shit.

But as it turns out, you love your job!

You show him the Fazgang during their "showtime" performance and assure him that while they may look creepy, they're not bad at all.

And while you're not getting paid extra to do simple maintenance on them, you still enjoy trying to keep them in tip-top shape (especially Foxy, who needs repairs the most).

Mike seriously thinks you shouldn't be doing that as it's not in the job description AND it could be dangerous.

Even if you have expertise in robotics, he still thinks it's not worth losing a limb or finger to those complex contraptions.

Like he almost did after getting near a springlock suit.

But you just teasingly remind him who the trainer is..and he goes quiet.

Foxy overhears this, and you see him snickering from behind the Pirate's Cove curtain, amused by you basically schooling this 25-27 year old man.

Unfortunately he startled poor Mike, who looks over quickly.....only to find the fox standing in his usual position, acting completely normal.

"Was he just laughing at us...?"

"Nope." You play dumb, shrugging. "Must be his voice box malfunctioning....c'mon. Let's see if we can fix that."

Least to say, you're not gonna let him sleep on the job anytime soon.

[ladybyakuya]

| BRAZIL + TASUKU TSUBAKINO.

+cw. — advisor!Tasuku Tsubakino x fem!singer!reader, musical au,band au, bofurin as band, mention of show pub ougi bar so manga spoilers, first meeting, usage of some canonical elements, rockstar!umemiya hajime, angst,hurt, misunderstanding ( ? ), confession, smut, mature content ahead. title based on song brazil by Declan McKenna

+wc. — 2k

+syn.— Tsubaki likes you while you know that he loves umemiya hajime and that is where jealousy comes into play but when it does it always turns the world upside down.

+notes. — this is a collab piece via wind breaker server ( the bofurin brothel ) hosted by our beloved mel ( @gimme-hiragi ). i used tsubaki instead of tsubakino because that's how he likes to be addressed. he is one of my favs >:)). dividers by cafekitsune | redirect to blog navigation.

+tags. — @stunie @prettyiwa

The stage curtains are drawn out granting a manageable access for the sunlight to pour into the empty stage. The pebble bar lights are not alive. There is no need for those but only during nights. Tsubaki is staring at the stage with a daze in his eyes as you connect the chords, set the microphone, and grab the headphones. For someone who can ignite the dormant rhythm in people’s hearts with the melody of your voice, you are an eerily silent soul. You clean the headphones with your handkerchief before putting it on. The only sound that could be heard was breathing: one was even like a pond while the other was uneven like a mountain range. Despite how quiet you are, Tsubaki can still pick up the rhythm of your body and soul: the footsteps, the breathing, Tsubaki watches as you take the stance of singing in front of the microphone.  He always does. He comes every Friday morning to watch you practice and as for you, you practice singing without any instruments or gadgets every morning, when the entire bar is in deep slumber. Clearing your throat, you start to sing but at first, just with wordless tunes, scaling your voice.

The lyrics:

{ heard he lives down a river somewhere

With six cars and a grizzly bear

He's got eyes, but he can't see

Well, he talks like an angel, but he looks like me

Oh, Lord

Oh, Lord }

Tsubaki rests his chin in between the slit of his index finger and thumb, elbow fixed on the table beside the glass of a strawberry milkshake. His eyes straw away due to the jingle of the bell coming from afar that is located at the apex of the back door. Someone is here. Tsubaki can not see them until they step into the main arena. Maybe they are from the staff section he consoles himself. He looks at you to check if you are expecting someone’s arrival at this time of the day but he finds you immersed in your voice. With those headphones on he doubts you could barely hear anything.

The thing is your Friday mornings solely belong to Tsubaki so anyone else is just noise to him but you do not know that. You know that every Friday morning he turns up sharp at 9 o clock without his twin bodyguards. He murmurs under his breath, “The music you play in bars is more real than what I play in stadiums.” and sips the strawberry milkshake through the pink straw.

You cover the microphone with your palm; moving your head away from it a little you retort tartly. “Oh? That’s new. Are you mocking bofurin?”

Tsubaki's red lips have a tinge of the pinkish milkshake he just sipped. He could not even gulp it down. Azure eyes go static, a palm over his mouth. Awkward. Waiting. 

“That’s what I thought. You could never,” you chime with a smile plastered on your face that you often maneuver during interaction of any sort with customers. He finally gulps down the strawberry milkshake. It feels stale and does not help with either the heat or the bubbling tension amongst his chest ribs. The moment you were about to sing again, your eyes switched to the entrance of the bar lounge.

Tsubaki’s sky lake eyes follow as he murmurs, “Umemiya-kun. . .?” it sparkles as if the sun shone upon him after a cloudy day.

Your mouth fell open ajar. How courageous of Umemiya to roam as free as a bird carrying all the fame and fortune on his back. “I hope you’re not looking for a place to hide, Haji.” you quipped gaining the attention of pair of eyes in the room.

Umemiya swigs his palm in front of his face exclaiming with zest, “No. No. Not at all.” He walks towards the stage and stands in front of you. Now, you can see both: Tsubaki and Umemiya. “Can’t I come visit an old friend?”

That would be unusual for a rockstar of his status. He has just started new heights. Recklessness sure follows wherever there is popularity and financial prosperity. Even with all that, it is unusual for him to pay an unscheduled visit for him. Could it be he is out in the wild, hinting at his muse? 

“you’re stuck.” Umemiya’s gigantic smile disappears instantly. Oh! That must be it. He is stuck with his music. “Bingo.” 

“Hmmm. That's what I thought. I mean you can’t afford to pay a visit like this unless you need me.”You pull his leg a little as Tasuku fidgets with the hem of his dress revealing a fair amount of this thigh. How tactless! Or could be intentional? There is a bleak prospect of that so for the better or worse you do not follow the trail of that thought. It's your jealousy wrapped with anger trying to stretch your heartstrings and release it, snapping the string and rewarding you with a bleeding heart.

You excuse yourself for a minute because it truly feels like someone is already tugging at your heartstrings and it's none other than Tsubaki. The way he acts around Umemiya bothers you. The way he acts around you clams your heart but you can not run after that tranquility. Never. Not in this life.

By the time, you come back Tsubaki has already left and Umemiya is sitting, waiting for you by the window side. He spends nearly half an hour trying to schedule a time with you and you can not lie to him. You can not lie to him even if you want to because you have to appease Tsubaki. So, if you agree with him, help him with whatever problem he is facing. 

It was decided that after a gig, the next weekend his staff would come and pick you up from your house and drop you at his house. And, when the work is done his staff will drop you back to your house.

The next morning strikes with a devastation deadlier than death. 

There is a photo of you and Umemiya on the front page. It is blurred just a little enough to not recognize your face but people around you can tell easily that it’s you. Tsubaki certainly can. That’s the only thing that matters, not the contents of the photo or how ambiguous it is. You and Umemiya are standing close to each other, closer than normal people. He is touching your earring and the angle of the photo makes it seem that he is touching your cheek. Damn! These paparazzi. You try not to call any of the Bofurin members because by now the must be busy handling the situation, especially Tsubaki being Umemiya’s sole advisor. It is almost mid-day. You throw the paper in the dustbin and pour liquor before burning it. Sure, you are jealous of Umemiya but you do not pray for his down fall. It makes you feel horrible to even think such a case. If this the price of love you have to pay, you would rather fall out of love. As if you can afford to do that. You can perhaps but not now. You have your reputation to protect.

A few nights later, after your first show when you walk back to your green room you find Tsubaki waiting in your green room without the lights on in the dark Your green room is nothing out of the ordinary except for him. He is like a cilantro in dessert. He does not belong here, in the world of booze and cheap bar lights. 

“What’re you doing here?” you try to sound angry, even annoyed but it is the shock that he hears the most, maybe a fear hidden underneath your voice. So, he does not leave the chair but rather folds his legs, one over the other. The taut and toned muscles of his legs are on vivid display making it even harder for you to focus. 

 “It was easy. I sneaked in.” He responds with so much detest in his heart that it makes you think he is mad about the photo. But he has no right to be, you remind yourself. After all, he is the one to choose to turn a blind eye to your feelings.

“Well, I have another performance so you have to wait.” you tartly spoke walking towards the mirror for some touch-up. Tsubaki watches you as you put lipstick on your lips.

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“Let me answer you with a question.” You turn your face to him, your hand still being kept on the wooden skin of the dressing table. “Why do you think I didn’t join Bodurin?”

“So, it's true. The rumors are true.” This guy . . . 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The opened lipstick clatters among the cosmetics separating the maroon part from the lipstick case as you throw it away. Tsubaki does not say a word; just spares a glance at the smudged part of your lips, must have happened when you swatted it away.

“All this time, I thought you . . .you liked him. You liked him.”  Tsubaki exclaims in a low voice leaving his seat and coming close to you. “So, I restrained myself. I kept reminding myself—” his fingers linger on your chin. “ That you are not mine to own.” Right! How could you not think of this? Tsubaki the smudged part of the lipstick and you let him. “Now, i don’t have to do that.” he whispers against your lips. You gulp. He still has not let go of your chin. You don’t think he is going to  . . . kiss you, right? He chins your face up a little expanding a little more access towards your collar bones. Tsubaki jocks down, kisses on your exposed collarbone. Just a peck. “That will do for now. Will quiet down the rumors too.” Tsubaki smiles. You look at the mirror to check your reflection. There it is the lipstick mark, as bright as a diamond. You do not dare to wipe it off. You don’t want to. 

Tsubaki stands behind you as you watch yourself in all glory. He moves aside the fall of your hair onto your left shoulder. You tilt your head, eyes glistening as you look at him through the mirror. There is hope. Want. Lust. Desire. . . Tsubaki wet his lips seeing you inviting him but he can not do that, not here. You have a show to host, and people to entertain. So, he unzips your dress exposing your skin. You must either be wearing a backless bra or nipple pads. If not none, you are getting an earful from him later but for now, he proceeds to place a trail of kisses, slow and full all over your back. It is frustrating how you can not see his face or the lipstick marks he left on your back.

Tsubaki stands up after kissing you till the dress would allow him. He zips it up as he stands. “I’ll wait for your show to be over. Then, after the show we are going home.” He whispers into your ear but he is too close so you shrink feeling ticklish all over your body. A few days ago he felt light years away, so out of your reach and now he is standing behind you, as close as he can get for now. 

“I’ll hurry after the show if .  .  .” you can finally find your voice now. Wait, can you sing properly? Of course, you can; you reassure yourself. 

“Oh don’t worry.” Tsubaki interrupts. “ I’ll make sure we will make up for all the time we have lost love.” He holds your hand assuring you that it's okay; he is not running anymore; he is not. If anything, he feels repentance for suffering all these years regretting his feelings for you but now that bitter feeling has sublimed he is so full of love that it feels like his heart will burst at the seams. It's not suffocating anymore. It’s liberating. Love is liberating. OH DEAR! What blind fool he has been to not to see the love you have for him in those galactic eyes.

@underratedcharactercorner @interstellar-inn