#WHEN I LEARN HOW TO DRAW HANDS ITS OVER FOR YOU BITCHES-

[amethyst-art]

I'm obsessed with wings-

[hyperballart]

can’t stop thinking about art and patrick sharing a fleshlight

this is kinda like a continuation of this but i imagine them so horny for each other after they finally broke that “platonic” barrier. let’s say it’s been a couple weeks from the events that took place and you’re away to see family for a bit. ever since you mentioned wanting both of them fucking you at once in the same hole they haven’t stopped thinking about it. they can’t stop thinking about both of their cocks rubbing wetly against each other in your hand, how much tighter and hotter your cunt will welcome them. art dreams of it literally, waking up so hard he’s too dizzy to use his hand—opting for humping the mattress like a bitch in heat until he spills into yet another pair of briefs (his laundry trips were becoming more frequent). and well patrick, he has jacked off so much he feels his wrist will break soon, he wants more—needs more than his hand. so he goes to art’s room one night and proposes something.

this is still new to them, still so fresh and they’re learning to navigate this new dynamic but they can’t hide the longing glances at each other’s lips. what started off as a simple conversation rapidly escalated to patrick pouncing on art and licking into his mouth. they’re out of breath when the brunette separates and begins to rasp out, “i need to feel you against me like that again,” art’s eyes are blown out and he whines quietly, “need that needy cock humping me like it did that night—my hand isn’t cutting it anymore.” and art is a good friend, who is he to deny it?

after fishing themselves out of their shorts and jerking each other off for a bit, art pauses and looks up at his friend, “wait, i wanna do something different. wait here.” patrick sits up and waits for his friend to return with a fucking fleshlight of all things in his hand, taking a seat next to him they stare at the toy in awe for a few seconds,“maybe we can pretend it’s her, you know as practice so we don’t blow our loads the first ten seconds we’re in her.” patrick gulps and nods mindlessly, he doesn’t care as long ass he feels art dripping on him again.

they barely use spit, leaking so much it’s enoughto slide right in the toy. art holds it down on patrick at first, he’s mesmerized, “you’re—you’re stretching it out so m-much, fuck me”, patrick’s hips twitch and he whines out a curse. when art starts to slide in next to him he almost cries.

they’re stretching the silicone toy to its limits, they hold still for a minute or two just panting and looking at each other with half lidded eyes. the first movement is caused by an accidental twitch of art, but as soon as they feel that friction again they lose it. patrick moans out your name, “holy fuck man, you don’t even know—she’s got, fuck, she’s got the tightest little pussy, i don’t know how we’ll fit.” art starts mewling with his eyes closed, “i wanna fuck her so bad, want to fuck her with you so bad—hhghhh.”

they just spit out the first things that come to their minds, how they’ll shove their dicks down your mouth at the same time, how your tits look in that tight tank top you love to wear, the one time you bent over in the tennis court to retrieve something and flashed them your pink panties. what really gets both of them is something that surprisingly comes out of art’s mouth, “wanna—wanna take turns. i’ll fuck her on my lap and pass her to yours so you do the same, just using her to jerk off—oh fuck fuck fuck—“

patrick’s balls are drawing tight, he takes notice just now of how they’re bouncing right up against art’s. he can’t believe this, how much precum is dripping down the fleshlight and how hard they’re both starting to fuck up into it. art has a rule of never coming in his toys because they’re a hassle to clean but that all goes out the window when patrick starts to open his mouth again, “i can feel you artie, cum. cum on me i’m so close, fuck, do you hear how wet that fucking sounds?,” art’s eyes start crossing and he lets his friend be the one to move the fake pussy up and down, “we’re gonna come inside her just like this too, i’m gonna make you fucking eat it out of her right after—“ and art can’t make out anything after that. he cums so hard, harder than the last time if that was possible, and his whole body twitches. patrick finishes just at the same time, and when he pulls the toy back up he holds it over both cocks.

they watch the loads of cum spill out and drip down the lenght of them both, red and spent. they really hope you aren’t too upset about them playing without you, after all you taught them how to share <3

[whatswrongwithblue]

Okay, so Charlie and Vaggie the day Vaggie got her wings back. Charlie was holding back when she said they looks nice, Charlie thought they looked really fucking nice. Can you have Vaggie teach Charlie how to preen her feathers? Or even Charlie playing with them and finding the nice spots? and then kiss and other stuff I'm nervous asking for more so soon.

also hamster gif as a payment.

I apologize that this took me so very long to write up. All I can say is writer's block is a bitch and I hope you like it! Also not beta'd so I apologize for any errors.

WINGS

Vaggie threw herself onto the bed face first and groaned into the pillow.

Everything hurt. She’d forgotten in her years since falling just how many muscles were used in flying and she had been training non stop since getting her wings back in order to prepare for the upcoming battle against Heaven’s exterminators . . . and Adam.

Only she may have pushed herself a little too hard that afternoon and was now paying the price. Overworked muscles from her neck, shoulders, back, and even down in her buttocks screamed in protest that she hadn’t warmed up properly, definitely hadn’t cooled down properly, and now she had a lovely build up of lactic acid and micro tears in all the supporting muscles for her wingspan.

She knew it was a bad idea to lay down in the state she was in but she was too exhausted and shakey to even make it to the bath that Charlie had drawn for her. She could smell the lavender in the Epsom salt diffusing through the air out of the open bathroom doorway, tempting her and drawing her into its welcoming warmth, but when she tried to move again, all she managed was another groan before slumping back into bed.

“Vaggie,” Charlie soft voice said from beside her, drawing her girlfriend’s name out with a disappointed sigh. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard.”

Vaggie mumbled a reply into the pillow.

“What?” Charlie asked with a giggle.

“I do if we want to win,” Vaggie repeated.

Charlie sighed again.

“We wont win if you injure yourself before the battle even begins.”

“Uuuuuuggggghhh,” Vaggie complained and slumped into the pillows again, her wings splayed pathetically out to her sides and limp.

“Okay, if you wont get up and go take a bath, I’ll just have to figure out some other way to help you!” Charlie stood and clapped her hands together, before taking off into the bathroom, leaving Vaggie to wallow in her misery and pain.

A minute later, Vaggie heard something being sat down onto the nightstand next to her and then she was unceremoniously being hoisted up into a sitting position. She tried to slouch forward into Charlie’s arms but Charlie pushed her away and began pulling up her shirt.

“Whoa there, little lady,” Vaggie said with a tired chuckle. “I don’t think I’m up for that right now.”

Charlie blushed before she composed herself and puffed out her chest, placing a hand over her breast and turning her nose up as if offended. When she responded, she had a fake, hotty and snobby tone to her voice.

“Please. I am much more  sophisticated when I am in the mood for amorous activities.”

“Okay, then,” Vaggie said with an amused grin, “what are you doing trying to take off my shirt?”

“I want to give you a massage! Duh!”

“Do you . . . know how to massage wings?” Vaggie asked, trying not to sound skeptical.

“There’s never a better time to learn a new skill than the present!” Charlie replied with her usual enthusiasm and Vaggie rolled her eyes, though she was, as always, amused by her girlfriend’s antics.

“I guess,” she reluctantly agreed  and let Charlie finish undressing her until she was down to her bra and underwear and began placing warmed up oils along her skin.    

Charlie began along Vaggie’s spine, right between her wings and shoulder blades, alternating small soothing cirlces and long strokes along the sides of her vertebra. A quiet lull came over them as Charlie moved her way down Vaggie’s back, lingering just at the base of her spine before moving back up and applying deep pressured strokes with her palm along Vaggie’s ribs.

It was torture.

And it was heaven.

Vaggie felt all her overworked muscles finally beginning to relax and although the pain wasn’t completely  gone and she knew she would still feel sore in the morning, she was already feeling an incredible amount of relief.

Then Charlie slipped her hands underneath the bottom of Vaggie’s underwear and began applying the same sweet, deep pressure to her muscles there and Vaggie felt a whole new kind of heat spreading through her body.

“Uh . . . Charlie?”

“What? You said ‘even my ass hurts’ before you flopped onto the bed. I’m just trying to help,” Charlie answered, but Vaggie could hear the mischievousness in her voice.

Charlie lingered in that zone for far longer than she had Vaggie’s back, making it clear it wasn’t just a simple massage at this point before she worked her way back up along Vaggie’s spine, hands as innocent as ever.

Until she  touched Vaggie’s wings.

With gentle pressure, Charlie’s fingers worked the upper ridge of muscle that ran along the top of Vaggie’s wings, especially at the base where they connected with her body. Vaggie bit her lip, hiding her face in the pillows, embarrassed at how easily her body was responding to touch in that area. No one had ever touched her wings like this before, so she had no idea it was such an erogenous zone.

Charlie’s fingers ghosted over the first bend in the ridge, her fingertips just lightly brushing over the feathers there, and Vaggie’s whole body shuddered.

“Oh, these are sensitive?” Charlie teased but her voice was low and sultry.

Vaggie didn’t respond verbally, just gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head and let Charlie continue to work her magic.

Charlie repeated her pattern from the beginning; down along her spine, back up and along her ribs, back down to her glutes, and then finishing off at her wings. This went on for 3 more cycles until Vaggie was flushed and desperate for more.

She felt two fingers pressing between the apex of her thighs and Vaggie eagerly lifted her hips up, giving Charlie easier and unabashed access to her core. Charlie worked her there with as much attentive tenderness as she had shown every other piece of Vaggie’s anatomy, only slipping her fingers underneath the now soaked piece of cotton when Vaggie had begun to moan and push her hips into Charlie’s touch.  

Charlie slipped two fingers inside Vaggie’s tight and warm depths, curling them down and stroking the most sensitive point of her walls as her thumb reached lower and worked circles around her clit. With her free hand, Charlie slowly rubbed upwards along Vaggie’s spine, teasing along the feathery edges where her wings joined to her back.

Vaggie whimpered and Charlie felt her sopping heat clench tighter around her fingers, almost there, her nervous system flirting with a climax, and Charlie purposefully kept her pace slow and gentle, leaving her right beneath that pinnacle of pleasure.

“Charlie, please,” Vaggie cried, her face flushed and buried sideways into her pillow.

With those two little words, Charlie gave in and ran her fingertips along the upper edge of Vaggie’s left wing, letting her touch dance along that bend halfway down that seemed to be the most reactive to touch. Vaggie gasped and Charlie curled her fingers tighter around Vaggie’s core, increasing her pace and pressure both inside and out.

Vaggie’s back bowed as she cried out, all of her once relaxed muscles now tensed as her orgasm crashed over her; a tsumani of pleasure that seemed to continue on and on, until it finally receded, along with Charlie’s touch, leaving Vaggie a melted puddle of sweat and trembling muscles.

But miraculously, it seemed all the pain and stiffness from her workout was gone, washed away by the flood of hormones and her girlfriend’s talented hands.

“Well, that’s one way to do a cool down,” Charlie said, and though her face was still turned into the pillows, Vaggie could hear the smirk in the blonde’s tone.

“I . . . yeah,” Vaggie sighed, unable to come up with a smart response.

“Okay,” Charlie chuckled, “c’mon you.” Before Vaggie knew it, she was being pulled up by her arm and dragged out of bed, though her shaking legs barely held her up. “Time for that bath. And maybe you can teach me how to preen those feathers of yours.”

Vaggie’s face heated up all over again at the thought of Charlie having her hands on her wings for the rest of the night.  

[carrymelikeimcute]

I'm in my feels again so lets talk about Izzy Hands and violence.

I read a novel ages ago, where an older guy takes a young orphan boy under his wing and teaches him a trade - it's medieval times and said boy becomes a young adult and wants a sword, but his pseudo-father/boss/friend tells him he can't have one, because if he has one, he'll draw it and if he draws it, he could be killed. The safest thing is, paradoxically, to carry no weapons. To learn control of one's temper and control over your surroundings.

The scenes of Izzy and Stede in ep.7 at Jackie's reminded me of that novel.

Obviously Izzy has weapons, tends to put his hand on his sword during arguments and we do see him fighting and killing people. HOWEVER, I think it's really interesting that, given how often we talk about Izzy being repressed (emotionally/sexually/gender-ly) and how controlled he attempts to be, we don't often talk about his controlled approach to violence.

A lot of fic characterises him as someone who is hot tempered and violent, but looking at s1 with fresh eyes, between him and Ed, he's definitely not just the cooler head when it comes to instigating violence, but the one who takes less interest in violence for its own sake as a performance - e.g. Ed's very creative instructions with the tiny fork, the toe thing etc vs Izzy just stabbing Stede. It's a means to an end.

Don't think I'm not saying he has a fucking temper and a half, because he obviously does, but that seems to mostly be vented non-violently through yelling - not yelling at strangers either, but at people he knows and can (usually) judge where the line is.

Until he puts a toe over that line and...oops.

On first meeting Stede, Izzy cuts up his shirt without actually hurting him. It's a threat, but he hasn't drawn blood, hasn't started anything violent...yet. It's almost a display intended to dissuade actual fighting, by showing your potential opponent that they're probably going to lose.

I think one of the reasons Izzy's so annoyed about their losses in the battle with the Spanish is that it's not their fight. They didn't get anything from it - it was pointless (to him, not to Ed obvs). He wants to avoid facing the Spanish again in the following episode, because they stand to lose more than they will gain.

Even when he's actively calling for Ed to kill Stede, he isn't fussy about how. (And he uses manipulation to keep his hands clean - something he does again when selling Ed out to the navy.) Stede needs to be gone, and this is the easiest way to do that. And when he does finally lose it he doesn't just attack Stede without warning - it's within the controlled setting of a duel, which, when Stede starts improvising, breaks down Izzy's control and leads to him becoming emotional, making a mistake and getting his sword broken.

In s2 the pointlessness of the raids is obviously getting to him, disrupting a wedding for no real gain. Losing Ivan for nothing. I don't think the violence is what bothers him, he's a very active participant, but the fact that it's not for anything - it's not enough of a reward in and of itself. (It's like not really caring one way or the other about being a barista, it's just what you do and it's fine, but then suddenly you're not being paid and also your boss keeps burning you with the steam wand on purpose and you just sort of wish you could just get on with your job and make rent like before.)

S1 Izzy seems to lack the whimsy and imagination that Ed/Stede bring to piracy and to violence, but that doesn't make him stupid. They're playing some kind of made-up game that only they know the rules for, and he's trying to play chess with everyone, even when the rules are only a burden to him.

When we see him training, he's being a dramatic candlelit bitch, but he's also measuring his movements, focusing intently and not just hacking away at everything. Even the candles are interesting to me in this context - we see him playing with candles several times in S1/2 and while yes, there is a certain amount of 'Izzy likes pain' in there to unpick, it's also kind of a metaphor for control - fire is one of the most dangerous things to have on a 'wooden vessel' but a candle is like a tiny pet fire that you control - so long as you're careful and respectful. It's all about risk management, respecting dangerous forces and being aware.

When Stede kills Ned, Izzy looks impressed, even seems to smile for a second, but then he looks more subdued and tells Ed that the first kill is a head-fuck. It's like he's proud of Stede being ABLE to kill, but regretful that Stede CHOSE to kill in a situation where it wasn't necessary at all.

I don't think for a moment that Izzy regrets killing most of the people he kills as part of pirate life, but I think he would regret killing someone he didn't have to. Most people wouldn't want to carry that around with them.

We see in ep7. that Izzy is well respected at Jackie's. He tells bigger guys than him to fuck off and just takes people's chairs. He gets called 'Mr. Hands' instead of by his first name. There's a lot of respect there and I think some of it comes from his reputation with Ed, but also, from people knowing that he's not insane - he can be treated respectfully and everything will be fine for all involved. He's not some menace that's going to stab you as likely as pat you on the back.

For all that people are afraid of Blackbeard (and maybe slightly in awe of Stede as of the Ned thing) for their unpredictable natures and occasional violent outbursts, people are still attacking them or pandering to them, actual respect is something else entirely.

Later, Izzy doesn't pull a weapon and tries to discourage Stede from doing so, even tries to get him to leave to prevent a fight from starting. In the fight, he smashes a stool over someone and doesn't just start killing people - it's an appropriate level of violence for the situation, not an escalation.

It feels like Izzy is very much in that place of controlling himself, being aware and knowing when and how to use force practically, proportionally and effectively. This might be age related, but it's also a big part of his personality. I think that's also why he looks impressed by what Zheng does to Steak Knife (rip) because it's so precise, bloodless and quick. She's basically the best captain for him - she's efficient and controlled.

It's easy to confuse 'is willing to kill' with 'is eager to kill'. I don't think Izzy necessarily loathes that part of his job, he seems ambivalent, but it is still a job to him. It's what pirates do, much as the crew of the Revenge do still kill people, it's just part of their life and not some kind of performance or fun activity. It's work, and it's hard and it's unpleasant and if something can be done an easier way - a smarter way - then that's probably the best way.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 2

Masterlist | Chapter 1 |-| Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

AO3

Summary: Frankie's friendship with the men of the 100th continues to consolidate, even as her work takes its toll

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, language, me having no idea how B-17s work

Word Count: 4k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp

The pub was noisy as ever, a patchwork crowd of blue and green, British and American, filling the low-ceilinged room, the stench of cigarette smoke and stale beer thick in the air. It seemed to Frankie that she only ever managed to get that smell washed out of her uniform in time to come straight back here and acquire it again, but it was the only place they could manage to find some real fun - after all, there were no men and no booze allowed in their Nissen hut. Although both rules had been known to be flouted.

"Stop fiddling with that, you'll make it worse," George tutted, batting at Frankie's arm as she took a sip of her beer. When one of the forts had crashed in a ball of flames earlier that week, she had seared herself helping to clear the debris, a burn mark running across the palm of her right hand. In her moments of absent-mindedness, she often found herself toying with the bandage, which caused the nurses great dismay when the dressings inevitably frayed and needed replacing.

"I can't make it worse, it's already almost healed," She shrugged, plucking a cigarette from her breast pocket. The two women had long since learned that bringing a whole pack led to nothing but strangers begging for a smoke, so they each only ever brought one out with them - besides, a pleasant smile could always swindle a hapless soldier out of another, should the need arise. "Hurt like a bitch, but the nurse lanced all the blisters the other day."

George grimaced, wiping some foam from the corner of her lip. As she let her gaze wander to the next table over, the voices of the men behind them growing more audible by the minute, she sighed. "Oh, here we go."

Craning her neck to have a look, Frankie watched on for a moment, recognising the faces of Egan, Cleven and the others as they chatted with a few RAF airmen in less-than-friendly tones. A crooked grin made its way across her expression, and she wiggled her brow at George as she stood up, taking her pint with her.

"Frank, no," Her companion whispered, tugging at her sleeve.

"Come on," She giggled. The pair burrowed their way through the dense crowds that crammed the pub, breaking free beside the men's table, lingering momentarily behind the three RAF pilots.

"So, let me get this straight," One of them asked. "You're Buck, and he's Bucky?"

"Is there a shortage of nicknames in the 100th?" Another spoke, a smug smirk creasing his cheeks.

Frankie took another sip of her beer and spoke up, the sudden sound drawing the attention of all of the men at the table. "No, but there is a shortage of tossers, I'm sure you could fill the ranks," She said sweetly.

"Wa-hey!" Bucky cheered, a pink tinge on his cheeks indicating that he was already reasonably intoxicated. Wordlessly, he leapt to his feet, scrounging for a pair of extra chairs for the two women.

"Hiya, George," Biddick smiled dreamily, cradling in his in the palm of his hand. "How ya doin'? You look nice."

"I'm doing good, thanks Curt," George smiled, accepting a seat with a quick thanks to Bucky. Frankie let out a snort as she sat down beside her.

"Only thing we're short of is crews, gents," Egan sighed, taking his place between Frankie and Cleven and attempting to drape an arm across the back of her chair before she shoved him off.

"Hm. Pity," One of the RAF men said, condescension dripping in his tone.

"Pity what, exactly?" Frankie urged, getting the distinct feeling that there was a whole argument bubbling under the surface here that she had not been party to.

"Well, they'd have more if they flew their missions at night - as an RAF woman yourself, surely you must know that."

She raised a brow, talking over the rim of her glass as she took another sip of beer. She could feel Bucky tensing beside her. "Yunno, if the RAF paid me a bit more I might feel some loyalty to them, but I'm with the Yanks. You're the prick here, mate." George lifted her glass in a silent toast of agreement, a smirk curling the corner of her lips.

The Englishman's jaw clenched as he peeled his irritated gaze away from her to look at the men. "I think we ought to make some sport of this. Any one of you will do."

"Oh, don't say that, Frankie'll beat your ass," Bucky muttered under his breath, just quiet enough that only she and Cleven could hear, grins spreading across their expressions.

"Sounds like an excellent idea," Cleven rose to his feet to accept the challenge, but before he could, Biddick was up beside him, tugging at his sleeve. He spoke in a low voice, and Frankie couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but she pieced it together when Curt's gaze kept flickering from Cleven to George, who watched on with a frown. He wanted to take the fight - wanted to impress her.

Once it was settled that Curt would be the one to fight, the group moved swiftly outside, half-empty drinks long forgotten at the table as they hurried to watch the spectacle. The alley outside the pub was unlit, the glow from inside casting faint shadows against the cobbles as they formed a tight circle, watching on expectantly. Frankie's cigarette hung from her lips, a cloud of smoke rising in front of her as Curt and the RAF airman began to circle one another, fists raised.

George clung tight to her elbow, grinning in anticipation. The Englishman caught the edge of a wonky paving stone, stumbling slightly, and the two women let out unflattering snorts. Curt winked at them, and Frankie rolled her eyes, although even in the darkness she could tell George was blushing.

"What do I get when I win?" He called over, tearing his gaze from his opponent.

It was George's turn to roll her eyes now. "I'll let you buy me a drink."

His boyish face lit up, and it seemed he had been wholly distracted from the fight. The Englishman lunged forward to take advantage of this, but Biddick didn't miss a beat, knocking him down with a single blow. Frankie let out a raucous cheer of celebration, her friend clapping along as the men whooped and jeered at each other.

"Milady," Curt grinned, holding out his hand to George, who accepted gladly, allowing him to lead her back into the pub for another drink. Frankie let out a huff, smiling as she stomped out her cigarette and watched the other RAF airmen pick their fallen comrade up off the ground. Letting out another laugh, the sound of it erupting into the night air, she began to follow the men of the 100th, finally letting Bucky sling his arm around her shoulders as they wandered back towards the Nissen huts, singing and shouting in celebration of Curt's victory.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was not yet five in the morning as Frankie scrounged to tie her bootlaces in the dark, toothbrush dangling out of her mouth, unbrushed hair tugged back into a messy ponytail. The pilots were taking off shortly after daybreak, and as some of the most senior mechanics at Thorpe Abbotts, the job often fell to her and Lemmons to carry out the last-minute safety checks and refuelling to ensure they'd all make it back in one piece.

None of the other women in her hut were required for duty yet, so Frankie did her best to shuffle about in the darkness as quietly as possible, refusing to turn on her bedside lamp so as not to wake George or any of her other less forgiving bunkmates.

Standing up from the edge of the bed once she'd finished tying her laces, she groped around blindly for her key to the mechanics' hut, accidentally banging her elbow on the corner of her metal bedframe in the process, waves of pain shooting up her arm. Pursing her lips tightly together, her whole body tensed, Frankie managed to find the key, waiting until she'd left the hut so that the cool night air would drown out the sounds of her pain.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She hissed as she scurried for her bike, waving her injured arm around wildly as if the movement could somehow dull the pain. She was so distracted that she'd almost completely forgotten about the burn on her hand - that is, until she clamped the handlebar with her injured palm and let out a yelp.

The sun was already rising as Frankie arrived on the airstrip, breaks squeaking as she wheeled to a stop outside the mechanics' hut, Lemmons already on site as he wrung his palms with one of the dirty rags they used to clean away excess lubricant. "You look like hell," He pointed out as she dismounted her bike, locking it up around the side of the building.

"Thanks, Ken," She replied sarcastically. "Rough wake-up call, beat myself up stumbling around in the dark."

Ken chuckled, handing over her toolkit. The pair had far few hours of sleep between them to chat as they worked, and it was all Frankie could do not to yawn as she checked the fuel tanks and oiled the landing gear. They'd been out for over an hour by the time the flight crews began to show up, the familiar sound of jeep engines pulling up behind her as she declared her job done.

"She ready to roll?" Bucky's voice rang out, and Frankie almost flinched as he clapped her over the shoulder, still reeling from the man's constant lack of volume regulation.

"All good," She confirmed. "Now get her outta my sight, and bring her back in one piece - can you handle that?"

He smirked. "Oh, you know I can."

"The number of wrecks you've given me would say otherwise, dear," Frankie teased, wiping engine grease off of her fingers with a rag as she turned on her heel, heading back towards the mechanics' hut.

"Hey!" Egan called, and she looked back at him. "You ain't gonna watch us take off?"

"The only thing I'm doing now is taking a goddamn nap," She laughed, feeling exhaustion tugging at her eyelids.

"Yeah, fair, you do look like shit," Bucky shrugged, recoiling as her filthy, oily rag smacked him in the shoulder as Frankie lobbed it across the airstrip. "Hey!"

"Respect women, you little bitch," She retorted, raising a middle finger as she wandered off, praying she could make the bike ride back to her bed without dozing off and crashing into a bush somewhere.

Frankie slept through the morning, right past lunch, and would've missed the cacophony of plane engines returning overhead had Lemmons not come to retrieve her, banging on the window above her bed. She peeled her eyes open slowly, waking with a start as she noticed the boyish face staring down at her through the glass.

"What the fuck?!" She asked groggily, voice raised so that he could hear her from outside.

"They're back, come on!"

Letting out a huff, Frankie dragged herself out from under the blankets, running her fingers through the knots in her hair for want of time to properly brush it. Stepping out through the front door as she finished fastening the top few buttons of her coveralls, Ken stood waiting for her, passing his weight impatiently between the balls of his feet.

"How's it lookin'?"

"Uh, all the ones we've got so far look alright. Although..." He trailed off, glancing awkwardly at her as they fetched their bikes.

"Although?"

"Biddick may have... crashed. In, uh... Scotland."

"He what?!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Once it had been established that Biddick was still, in fact, alive, Frankie had few kind words to say about the pilot's wreckless flying, mourning the loss of a plane and the strings they'd have to pull to find a new one. Fortunately, George had been in an especially persuasive mood that night, and had managed to rope her into attending the party that was being held for the airmen to celebrate the success of their mission.

"Watch what they're calling a success, I'm the one who's gotta figure out how to ship a wrecked plane back from fucking Scotland," Frankie muttered as they approached the building, muffled music coming from inside as she tugged at the shoulders of her jacket, trying to force it to sit comfortably.

"Oh, stop complaining," George scoffed, grabbing her arm and forcing her to stop as she reached up to fix a smudge in her lipstick. "Look on the bright side for once - he didn't die!"

"That's especially good for you with your lovey-dovey eyes, huh? 'Oh hiya George, how ya doin' George, you look real pretty today George'," Frankie teased, putting on an utterly terrible American accent as she attempted to mimick Curt. George punched her in the arm and went inside without a word, a natural pink flush visible through her rouge.

The band was in full swing as Frankie followed her inside, the mingling crowds a mix of uniformed airmen, plainclothed local women, and a few servicewomen she recognised from the neighbouring huts. She was struggling to pretend she had ever wanted to come, nose burrowed in a glass of whiskey as she managed to dodge the flirting of a few slightly intoxicated pilots. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy parties - she just preferred them when there was no mountain of work hanging over her head for the following day. It was just as well she'd slept through lunch, otherwise her mood would've been frightful.

Bucky wanted to sing. He could feel the music running through his body, his toe tapping involuntarily against the polished floor as he sat slumped in a seat beside Buck. His friend had never enjoyed Bucky's singing - and although he pretended not to, he understood why. He couldn't carry a tune to save his life, but dammit if it wasn't fun.

The consensus had been a resounding no. No, he could not sing. But that was no fun - that was no way to celebrate, not in Bucky's book. He had caught Cleven off guard as he bolted from his seat, just quick enough to break away before his friend could grab him by the shoulder and drag him back down again. Approaching the microphone, an excited grin creasing his cheeks, his gaze scanned over the crowd before stopping on an unfamiliar face.

If anything, his performance would only be enhanced by a partner.

Frankie was beginning her second whiskey, lingering by George's shoulder as she made small talk with one of the radar operators from the women's hut next door. Bucky had tried to call her over once, but over the music and the crowd, she hadn't heard. He paused for a moment, wracking his brain for a way to get her attention without giving up the microphone. If he stepped away, he wouldn't have put it past Buck not to have the thing removed so that he couldn't perform.

"Fran!"

She turned to him instantaneously, ears pricked like a hunting dog, expression contorted with the murderous promise to carry out the threat she had issued the last time he'd used the nickname.

"Sing with me," Bucky beamed, holding out his hand. A smirk began to spread across her face, and he could see George patting her shoulder, egging her on. With a grin, Frankie passed her drink to the blonde, crossing the gap between them and meeting him at the mic as he cheered. Cleven's head was in his hands.

"You know the words?" He whispered.

"Well enough," She affirmed.

Never saw the sun shinin' so bright,

Never saw things goin' so right,

His suspicion had been correct. Frankie couldn't carry a tune any better than he could, onlookers grimacing at the complete lack of musical talent the pair possessed. Occasionally the lyrics would collapse into laughter as Bucky noted the way she had to crane her neck to even reach the microphone, but there was not a hint of embarrassment between them.

Watchin' the days hurryin' by,

When you're in love, my how they fly,

She caught his eye for a moment, their grins audible in their voices as they fought to keep up with the quick pace set by the band behind them. Arms outstretched, the curls in her hair bounced with each tap of her foot as she leant into the mic, their cheeks practically pressed together. The whiskey had left her slightly flushed, the tip of her nose blooming pink the way it always did. Anyone looking on probably must have thought there was something deeper between the two - the way they stood so close, their cheeks flushed pink, unable to keep a straight face whenever their eyes met. Frankie loved Bucky, that much was true, but it was the kind of platonic love that veered more into brotherhood than it ever would romance. If he had ever tried to kiss her, she probably would have knocked him out.

Blue days, all of them gone,

Nothin' but blue skies from now on,

He seized her by her shoulders in a fierce bear hug, and she let out a guffaw, so loud and so close to the microphone that it sent a shrill squeak of feedback around the room, the crowd grimacing for a moment before Bucky tugged her away and the terrible sound ceased. George was unable to clap for the glasses she held in both hands, but she whooped and cheered from the side of the room, the only person in the place giving them the true encore they both believed they deserved.

"I think we have a future in the industry," Bucky muttered into her ear, making her laugh again as they swayed side to side, his vice grip refusing to let up until she began pinching the flesh on the backs of his hands.

"Major!" A man called, scurrying up to them. "Major Egan sir, you've got a call."

"Alright, comin'," He nodded, clapping her over the shoulder as he made his way to the bar, where Cleven was already standing with the telephone.

George stepped up once Frankie was alone, returning her half-finished whiskey. "That was really something," She chuckled, voice raised over the music.

"I didn't know I had it in me," Frankie shrugged. "Y'know, that much raw, untapped talent should never go to waste, it's a tragedy." Her friend laughed, but Frankie's gaze had wandered over to the bar again, where the two Majors chatted jovially to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Is that-?" She muttered to herself, telling George to give her a minute as she marched up to the men, leaning casually against the bar. Flashing a calm smile, she nodded to Cleven as Bucky chatted away on the phone. "Hey, is that Biddick on the line?"

"Sure is, all the way from-"

Cleven never got time to finish his sentence before she had darted in between the two men, wrenching the phone from Egan's hand before he had time to even register her presence. "Wh- hey!"

"Did you crash my fucking plane, Curt?" She snapped, the man on the other end of the line letting out a tiny yelp of surprise.

"Frankie!" Curtis chuckled nervously. "How's Georgie doin', is she well?"

"Answer the question, Biddick, did you - oh, piss off, Bucky," Frankie spoke hurriedly, slapping at Egan's hands as he tried to pry the receiver away from her. "What were you thinking?"

"Y'know," Biddick continued, completely dodging the question yet again. "The Scottish - they don't like you English very much, Frank."

"Historically speaking, that's pretty fair," She sighed, running a hand across her face. "Just... ask whoever's with if they've got a truck that can bring your wreck back from... where is it again?"

"Mostly in the vegetable patch."

"Right. Good to know. Now get your ass back here or I'm gonna set George up on a date with one of the ground crew boys."

She pulled the receiver away from her ear, chuckling at the muffled sound of Curt's protests as she handed the phone back to Bucky, who snatched it from her with a look as if to say 'What the hell?'.

"Yeah," He nodded along to whatever Biddick was now saying. "Yeah, uh-huh, I promise I won't let her. Don't you worry, dear." Bucky shot her a sideways glance and she snorted with laughter, holding her hands up in surrender as she backed away from the bar.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sky lit up a dozen shades of orange, red and blue, the faint thrum of explosions and gunfire rattling overhead as the anti-aircraft guns did their best to destroy the enemy's fight planes, high up through the clouds.

Frankie lingered outside the shelter, watching with her arms folded across her chest. Her pin curls never held for more than a couple of hours, and a halo of frizz encircled her head as a result of the night's commotion, eyes reflecting the stippling of lights above.

One of the airmen hurried past her towards the shelter, brow drawn inwards with anxiety, sweat visible on his brow even in the dark. He glanced at her, and almost went on his way, but back-tracked just as he was about the head down the steps.

"Uh, ma'am?" He urged. "We should really get inside."

"Yeah, in a minute," Frankie waved her hand, doing a double take as she realised the man looked familiar. "Hey, it's, uh - Crosby, right?"

He almost smiled. "Yes, ma'am. You're Ms Bevan, I believe - on the ground crew."

"Right you are. But call me Frankie, everyone else does."

Crosby didn't seem to know what to say to that, and settled for a simple, awkward nod. "We should really get in-"

"It gets a lot less scary when you're - what, three years in?" She paused a long moment before sucking in a breath, tearing her gaze from the sky above as she pointed at Crosby. "Hang on, aren't you the one whose vomit we keep having to clean out?"

Even in the dark, she could see his face turn beet red. "Oh, I am so sorry about it, ma'am, I swear I'm trying not to, it's just-"

Frankie chuckled, and he trailed off, clutching his uniform cap tightly with both hands. "Don't worry about it. I make the boys do it anyway, I don't touch the stuff," She grinned. "I'd probably do the same. I know more about planes than all of your pilots put together, but I've never flown in one before."

Crosby let out a huff at her confession, suddenly more at ease despite the chaos overhead. When he stared at it the way she did, the lights and sounds were almost beautiful. Almost.

"Why don't you head down below," She said. "Your COs will start wondering where you've got to."

He nodded, reaching the top of the steps that led down to the shelter and then holding out a hand, as if offering to help her down them. When Frankie just smiled, not moving an inch from her position, he took the hint, nodding as he began to descend.

"Oh, and Crosby!" She called. He doubled back, head peeking up over the wall. "Try chewing ginger root. Or a mint leaf. I've heard they help with the air sickness."

Crosby nodded again, firmly, as he took a mental note of her advice. "Thank you, ma'am - uh, Frankie."

She grinned. "Any time."

[bullet-prooflove]

Welcome to Nightvale: Sean Archer X Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @to-grow-in-and-to-love @mandy426 @icefrye19 @toasted-stiletto 

Sean’s relationship with you starts because of a book.

You’re in front of him in the queue at the café in Med when it slips out of your bag and hits the tiled floor, the pages fluttering open, revealing an array of multi-coloured post its. You’re too busy ordering too notice. It’s when he raises to his feet after picking it up that he comes face to face with you.

You’re pretty, so pretty that Sean doesn’t expect it. His mouth goes dry for a second before he holds up your book.

“You dropped this.” He says shyly as he hands it back to you.

“Thank you.” You say as you take it from him and place it back into your bag. “I’m reading it for my book club.”

“Welcome to Nightvale huh?” He says as he tucks his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I’ve heard the podcast but I’ve never read the book.”

“The podcast is much better than the book.” You tell him as you wrap your hand around your takeout coffee cup and raise it to your mouth. “I can lend it to you if you want? Maybe we can talk about it afterwards.”

His cheeks colour as a smile breaks across his features.

“I’d like that.” He tells you as he gives his own order to the server behind the counter. “They have a live show coming up in June. I’m on the fence about going, I’m not sure how it’ll translate in the real world.”

“I’ve been thinking about it too.” You say as he waits for his coffee. “A lot of podcasts are doing it now, I kind of feel it’ll be like online dating, great in theory, disappointing in real life.”

He laughs then because yea, that’s kind of true. He doesn’t do apps but he’s heard the horror stories from the guys he lives with.

“Online datings not really my thing.” He confesses as he picks up his coffee and gestures towards a table. He expects you to make an excuse, a reason to leave but instead you slip into the offered seat and he finds himself sitting down across from you. “I’m not sure what you can learn about someone from an online profile. They don’t really give you the whole picture.”

“Or they send you the ‘whole picture’ once you’ve connected.” You joke and he blushes when he catches your meaning.

“Unsolicited dick pics are not my thing.” He tells you, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t even know how to get the right angle. There has to be an art to it right?”

You laugh then and it really is the loveliest sound.

“What is your thing?” You ask him and Sean shrugs his shoulders.

“Honestly I’m trying to figure that out.” He tells you, his gaze lowering to his drink as his thumb chases over the ridged cardboard. “I’m taking some time, trying to learn who I am.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” You ask him, your elbows coming to rest upon the surface of the table.

“Sure.” Sean says as he leans in close and the scent of your perfume floods his senses. It’s airy and light, like the first breath of spring on his skin.

“I know this looks all put together but I’m still trying to figure my shit out.” You says gesturing at yourself. “Truthfully I feel like we’re just all a work in progress.”

It’s the kindest, most insightful thing that anyone has ever said to him.

“Come out with me.” He says softly, his eyes meeting yours. “We can go see that show, bitch about it afterwards.”

You pause for a moment and he realises he’s been too bold, too forward. He draws away, but your hand captures his, thumb skating over the hollow of his wrist.

“I’d like that.” You tell him, the edges of your mouth tipping up into a smile. “Really I would.”

Love Sean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[darkbluekies]

Jerry asks #2

Previous one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: nsfw mentions, drugs, murder

Rahhh i love ur OC Jerry smmm, i wanna squish her like a stress ball and inhale her into my nose 😔😔Im conclusion, i can't wait to see more of Jerry and your writing in general!!! &lt;;33

youwannadowhatnow???? (thank you so much ily)

Bro i am SO in lesbians with jerry its not even funny

Very good >:)

how would Jerry react to reader killing someone out of self defense?(p.s. im lowkey in love with Jerry)

She will be proud over you. All that self defense she taught you actually worked. She's so pleased to know that you can take care of yourself when she's away. She'll comfort you, knowing that this most likely will take a toll on your brain.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay I promise, you did nothing wrong! You did so well. You could even have been harsher if you ask me, but you're so nice, aren't you? The nicest little baby? Come here."

As soon as Jerry puts a colouring book in front of me bam my attention is gone I am drawing I am gone I am happy

Perfect, just like she wants :>

"Giving you a coloring book to keep you occupied" Jerre what the actual f... do you think i'm a child ?! *is absolutely doing the coloring with an offended look*

Lmao coloring books really are fun, i love them so much

She'll come over every ten minutes to check up on you and see how far you've come.

"No need to glare at me when you're obviously having fun, you child." She peeks at the drawing. "That looks good, baby doll. If you finish the entire page before I'm done here I might let you sleep on my arm tonight."

Does Jerry get softer over time? She’s stand offish but we get those moments of softness, when she settles down with her darling and they both trust each other will she be soft or still only fleeting moments?

She doesn't get softer in theory, but you learn how to take her behavior and analyze it. Her cockiness is a part of her personality. it's not disappearing anytime soon. However, if you match her energy she will be much more comfortable. You might even be on the same level with her instead of being her property.

Example:

"I ought to give that son of a bitch a real pounding", Jerry mutters with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You should wipe the floor with his hair", you reply. "Use it like a real good mop."

She scoffs out a laugh. "I should, shouldn't I?"

"If you don't, I will."

You're about to leave, but she grabs your shoulder, forcing you back.

"Not a fucking chance, Y/N", she says. "He would grab your hair and swing you over his head like a damn propeller. I'm not letting him hurt you, you're too important to me. You can help me, but you're not doing anything by yourself, do you understand that?"

"In that case he'll hurt you too."

"I'll be fine." She taps your nods at the man. "If you take his glass, I'll put in the sleeping pills. Let's go, baby. I'm right behind you."

on my hands and knees begging for more information on jerry’s mommy kink

Well ... haha ... Jerry loves to be in control and know that she's the leader of the relationship. Having you call her that makes her feel important to you. Plus it feeds her gigantic ego.

She's the type to want you to call her that among others, just so people know. It makes her feel even cockier.

Of course she mocks you about it when you become shy about it, why wouldn't she do that? The more embarrassed you are, the happier she gets.

BLUE OMG I LOVE JERRY SO MUCH SHES LITERALLY RHE STANDART ‼️‼️

AGREED<33333

jerry stole my heart<3 -💤anon

She will steal more than that, she will steal your entire life

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies! About recent posts, plus about some Ace ships and some Fellow ships.

Anonymous asked:

I see Jade is quite uncomfortable with this new fella

Yeah… Jade is the kind of guy that likes to make others uncomfortable, but when it happens to him, suddenly it’s an “oya 😬” moment for him.

Anonymous asked:

MOVE OVER SKULLY IT'S MY TURN WITH JADE LEECH'S HAND IN MARRIAGE RN

It’s okay, Skully has a lot of other hands to kiss… apparently…

Anonymous asked:

Who's your favorite ace ship ?

And who do you ship crowley with?

It’s ADeuce! <3 Somehow I always end up drawing Deuce with other men I love him with lol But ADeuce is a very beloved ship for us.

Ace/Riddle is also quite good~

As for Crowley, we don’t really have ships with him. For now? Who knows.

Anonymous asked:

Train x ace? interesting thank you for answering my asked keep up the amazing work 😊 can't wait for more of your amazing art

No problem, Anon! Thank you so much for enjoying our stuff, it means a lot <3

Anonymous asked:

I usually send you asks about how much I adore your art hehe 💚

But what are your thoughts on Kalim x Fellow? Cause this pairing has been in my mind ever since I saw fanart of them lmao. I don't think that fanart was even shippy. I just had some sort of vision 🤔🤣 Maybe its their dynamic that got to me? The way they're like opposites or something lol.

Thank you so much for liking my art, Anon!! <3 And thank you for reminding me about it hehehe, it’s very sweet of you.

Kalim and Fellow are a very interesting combo; it’s been a couple of months since we watched the event, but I still come back to think about these two every now and then. They really are opposites in every possible way, with Fellow almost being offended with Kalim’s carefree and generous attitude towards him. He is so used to people being two-faced and using him that Kalim’s extremely stubborn kindness is very jarring to him. Plus, the fact that it’s super easy for Kalim to just throw money around… I really loved that moment when Fellow got offended by that, I bring it up like at least 2 times a month lol And yet, Kalim seems so gullible and easy to trick… but his sheer luck, kindness and, once again, STUBBORNESS, makes him into someone Fellow can’t deal with very easily. He’ll drive Fellow insane so quickly lol

But it’d be such a nice learning experience for both of them, wouldn’t it? I feel like their relationship could have a very interesting dynamic as they learn more about each other~

I have a big post with hc about some of the boys x Fellow, and there are some Kalim/Fellow hcs there, if you’d like to read them <3

Anonymous asked:

Recommendation for Azul x Fellow and variations: they're trying to seduce/scam the same guy. Cue sabotages and snarky comments

Oh god these two bitches lol I feel like seduction is more of a Fellow’s thing, which makes it even funnier because Azul would get so mad the moment Fellow stars seducing the guy. This isn’t fucking fair, you can’t just start whispering to him with your deep sultry voice, inviting him to go somewhere private while Azul was in the middle of trying to make the guy sign his contract! Azul would bite his tongue so much to stop himself from snapping at Fellow and calling him a slut.

They would sabotage each other a lot… The Tweels would be so amused :”3

[acheronist]

so we need to keep in mind this is trying to represent a 5'4" nineteen-going-on-twenty year old who has a managerial adjacent job

pros

he does look appropriately like a teenager with an annoying attitude which is hilarious

as far as i know we have no sources about what his personality was actually like but speculating that he might have been a bitch delights me. pov your office supervisor is a kid who is a full decade younger than you and also this is his first real job and also also you literally do have to do as he says. lol.

the actively smoking to remind the viewer we learned via autopsy that he had the lungs of an 80 year old chainsmoker is so funny. he literally is from manchester during the industrial revolution and his job is Shovel Coal All Day so this is a nice touch.

extremely cute way of including his scarf with the dots 🤍🩵 i like it when he gets to wear the scarf as a scarf and not as a way of keeping his corpse's jaw shut

i think that even for how small this rendering is, this is a nice iteration of his facial features!!! long slender face, slight bump in the nose, prominent cheekbones, high and round eyebrows etc... yup its all there. checks out!

cons

THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY THAT DRAWING IS SUPPOSED TO BE SHOWING US A MAN WHO IS 5'4"

his corpse was 85lbs upon exhumation. of course we need to account for mummification /dehydration weight loss but also he was extremely sick right before dying. his stomach was empty so we can assume he wasn't eating/keeping food down, so he likely lost a ton of weight very quickly and then coughed himself to death. but also his job was Manual Labor so (when healthy) he must have had some sort of lithe wirey build. so imo there's no way he ever weighed more than 115lbs~120lbs at his most healthy.

THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY THAT DRAWING IS SUPPOSED TO BE SHOWING US A MAN WHO WEIGHS 120LBS

why's he got yaoi hands. this is also not correct my boy had very slender hands. fucka you.

where did the toque come from

where did the belt come from

the blouse fabric rendering is weirding me out

i'm still honestly not sure what is the truth about his haircut is but i don't think jorrington had a mullet and bangs that he gave himself over the bathroom sink at 4am while using craft scissors

the white dove flying in the background is so heavyhanded and ridiculous i could honestly go throw up

i'm giving it a 7/10 overall

[mrs-hatake]

a dance of disdain and desire

pairing: toji x fem!reader

warning: non-con, attempted murder.

summary: Staring down at the slumbering woman, Toji takes in her features. Normally, he wouldn’t bother looking at his victims, doesn’t even care to learn their names, however, the slumbering princess has an indubitable beauty that has Toji halting in his movement.

a/n: please go easy on me my writing is very rusty and idk how to write kissing or fighting scenes ;-;

ao3

Toji’s bare feet land softly on the white fur carpet, the material tickling his toes. The thirty year old man sneers at the carpet, as if offended by its fluffiness, before cautiously lifting his right foot and moving further into the bedroom. 

There’s a lump on the bed that he knows belongs to the Star Plasma Vessel. He watches, silently, as the young woman’s chest rises and falls with every breath she takes. Once Toji is certain that the woman is submerged deep in her sleep, he slips his hand into the back of his pocket and pulls out his Bowie knife; his ideal choice of weapon for a quick and painless death. 

Staring down at the slumbering woman, Toji takes in her features. Normally, he wouldn’t bother looking at his victims, doesn’t even care to learn their names, however, the slumbering princess has an indubitable beauty that has Toji halting in his movement. 

Had the young woman been born as a normal human as obsessed to the vessel, Toji believes that she would have made a fine wife for a lucky bastard that doesn’t deserve her grace. 

Though Toji isn’t here to admire her beauty, he is here to kill and dispose.

Inching closer, Toji lifts his hand up, ready to plunge Bowie into her neck, closing his mouth tightly so as to not get blood into his mouth. 

What he isn’t anticipating, however, is the young woman’s eyes opening and jumping away from Toji’s attack. 

It happens too quickly but Toji soon finds himself planted face first on the young woman’s bed, something heavy laying on his back and a sharp knee pressing against his spine.

“You must be quite foolish if you assumed I would be sitting around, waiting to be killed.” A woman’s voice hisses disdainfully into his ear.

Toji chuckles, “I do like them fiery.” and as fast as lightning, he flips them over so that the vessel is lying beneath him, “But I’m not here to play.” 

He smirks wickedly at her, his scar appearing more prominent, and the vessel growls as she tries to knee Toji in his stomach. 

Toji expertly dodges her blow, his movements fast and fluid, showcasing just how strong he truly is. 

But the woman isn’t so quick to surrender, charging at Toji with her fists swinging. 

The two engage in a furious exchange, their bodies moving together as if they are dancing a passionate tango for the world to see. 

The vessel manages to land a punch with great force but Toji retaliates with a swift kick, knocking her down against the carpeted floor. 

The young woman’s eyes are lit ablaze with defiance, but she refuses to give up even though Toji is sitting on top of her, thick thighs trapping her own and his bowie pressing against her neck, almost drawing blood.

“Give up princess?” The wicked gleam in Toji’s forest green eyes does not frighten the young woman. Instead, it fuels her with so much rage that she headbutts the man above. 

“Gaarrh!!” 

While Toji is distracted by the pain, the vessel quickly grabs onto Toji’s wrist and twists it hard enough so that he drops the knife.

“You fucking bitch!” He growls and slams her body back onto the floor, ignoring the searing pain.

“Let me go!” The woman screams, legs kicking wildly in hopes to somehow hurt him. 

“Sorry, dollface, I was paid to kill you.”

Though Toji’s voice is sugary sweet, the murderous glint shines bright in the dimly lit room. 

The young woman doesn’t stop thrashing, even when Toji draws a thin line across her neck, watching, mesmerized, as the blood quickly follows.

Without warning, Toji’s lips come crashing down in a furious, heated kiss. A kiss that is charged with bloodlust and perversion.

The young woman’s hands press against his chest, desperately shoving him away, but Toji is stronger and holds her hands in an iron grip, stilling her movements. 

Toji presses his body against her, deepening their sloppy kiss. One of his hands engulfs the woman’s hand while the other wraps around her waist and squeezes the flesh, making the woman open her mouth in an audible gasp and Toji immediately shoves his tongue down her throat.

Lost in the kiss, Toji’s grip loosens and both his hands wrap tightly, greedily, across her waist.

The young woman leans on her elbows and pushes herself upward, deepening the kiss which makes Toji moan, appreciating the fact that the vessel is reciprocating. 

Their lips move in a tumultuous dance of desire and disdain, sending delicious shivers down their spines.

When the young woman is certain that her assassin is too engrossed in the kiss, she buries her fingers in his thick tuft of hair and yanks, but Toji does not budge an inch. 

As a last resort, she punches Toji, his back and his chest, but soon surrenders when she realizes that her efforts are futile. 

And as she is being violated by her assailant, the young woman is struck with the terrible reminder that even though she had trained hard to protect herself,  that she had spent thousands hiring strong people to shield her, she is destined to die.

Finally, the young woman sighs in defeat and succumbs to the assassin, shivering at the way Toji’s lips curl in victory. 

[kinniie00]

HEY BUDDY :D !!! lion, maine coon, american shorthair, tiger, cougar, and fishing cat !!

HIIII!!! 👾

This is so many omg

Lion - I'm probably most proud of how far I've come over the last few years, I went through a lot and am still learning to live with some of it. It's definitely shaped a bit of who I am now, but I'd like to think I have grown from it and carried it with me rather than living in that dump forever :) AND MY FRIENDS IM SO SO SO PROUD OF THEM AND HOW MUCH THEY'VE DONE AND I WISH THE BEST FOR ALL OF YOU :((

Maine Coon - Honestly I'm not too sure how others would describe me, or even how to encapsulate my personality into one word--I'd like to say I'm energetic but I also have my moments of not being as much, I'm nice but I know I can be a bitch, I'm a lot of things but I'm really unsure of what word could describe me, plus I don't remember any good descriptive words rn :') (I'm so tired)

American Shorthair - I have many things that comfort me, id say my friends are my biggest comfort, as cheesy as it is. My friends remind me I'm not alone and have reasons to keep going, even when it feels impossible. I also often tend to latch onto games and streamers/YouTubers for comfort (a big one is hermitcraft!! :D), many of the people I watch now are people who practically raised me and I love them dearly. Another few smaller things that I find help comfort me are things like music, tea, or small things like animals (my cat!!!) or stuffed animals :3

Tiger - Another one that I'm not entirely sure how to answer :( "Being cute and being mine" -☀️ I think I went through the 5 stages of grief trying to come up with something that's all you're getting, oh yeah and my worst is probably the fact that I'm indecisive or like impulsive idk

Cougar - Hehehe fandoms 😇 Definitely undertale, fnaf, and sanders sides in the later years. I was (unfortunately) an aphmau kid back in 2015 but that was more watching her content and less fandom stuff. The undertale and fnaf ones definitely didn't ever stop, I got really into sans aus back during covid and relied on all three of those fandoms for comfort during the quarantine too. Sanders sides definitely helped me over the years before and during covid, it was definitely a rough time in my life as I was learning new things about myself and others around me, and it helped me so much with learning how to be me and accept myself as I am. As for a fandom I'm really active in now, id say the one I'm most active in is Hermitcraft (so surprising!!! 🙀) I got super into it back in season 6 when grian joined because I watched his content before he joined, and now I watch most of the hermits, I do tend to focus on a few each season while watching the occasional stream/video from the others though! I also listen to the imp & skizz podcast, and I find it rather comforting when I'm stressed, I love the hermits so much and they've definitely helped me so much without even knowing :) (and the fandom is so silly I love everyone)

Fishing Cat - I have so many I'm definitely going to forget some, I love learning new things and it's led to many hobbies that I do and will probably get back into in the future! :) I do crochet, it's something I have been learning since I was really young but couldn't get the hang of it for the longest time because my mom had a hard time teaching me it since she's left handed, I love reading, I read all kinds of things from old novels & poetry, romance and mystery, to nonfiction and sci-fi, I enjoy reading anything as long as it can keep my interest, and I loveee getting reccomended books (even though my to-be-read list is SO long), I like small crafts like jewelry making but it hurts my hands (especially the more intricate ones like fancy necklaces, bracelets, earrings), i love gaming, its a big part of who I am seeing as I grew up doing it, and even though i dont it as much anymore I still enjoy it and love playing games with my friends!! I enjoy drawing, but it's stressful because I'm not great at it and am way too perfectionistic over it. I used to paint but I never got too good at it and never had proper supplies, it was very fun though and I'd definitely get back into it sometime down the line. I listen to a lot of music, and watch youtubers/streamers. I like to go on walks, but with some of my health issues I don't go on them as often (I definitely will do more this summer though!!) and hanging out with my friends and animals. I plan on getting into sewing and possibly cosplay sometime so that will be fun to learn! I love creative hobbies, despite how stressful they can be when they don't go how I wanted it to :) I love seeing things I'm able to make evolve and get better and I get better at doing it, and I love consuming information and seeing people be people!!

I'm so sorry this is a lot of yapping even for me 😭

[sapphire-weapon]

me in the shower, just tryna shave my legs and have a normal night: you know, I'm really proud of that Leon and Ada boat scene meta post that I made earlier today. the biggest problem with Ada's character has always been that, outside of RE2, we never get a peek into her actual emotions at any point. she just seems to be a Sexy Spy Robot going on autopilot. but this is like, layered and nuanced and shit. it's interesting. my brain: hey me: ... uh oh my brain: you know what's really interesting about Leon and Ada's dynamic in the Remake series? me: ... oh god what is it just say it because this razor is very sharp and I have no wiggle room for bullshit. my brain: in OG, Leon always came off as naive and even a little bit childish due to his attachment to Ada. Remake is flipping that on its head. this time around, Leon is the mature adult in the room, and Ada is the one with a naive, almost childish worldview. me: ... what, you mean the whole "Leon is more comfortable with silence than Ada is" thing? I already did that part. my brain: bitch would I have piped the fuck up if that was it my brain: no, I mean the fact that people -- even you up to this point, dumbass -- have been misinterpreting the genesis of her redemption arc. it isn't that Ada discovers that she has a moral line in the sand that she won't cross. it's not like she reunites with Leon and, out of nowhere, has the epiphany "maybe killing people is bad, actually." me: ... go on... my brain: it's that she reunites with Leon and sees what he's become and feels incredible guilt over it -- and that's probably the very first time in actual literal years she's felt guilt over anything. me: ... so she... wants to avoid feeling guilty again...? is that what you're saying? my brain: yes, and the reason it's been so long since she's felt guilty about anything is because she doesn't ever ask why. she has no real sense of object permanence when it comes to what she's doing and who she's doing it for. she does her job and she shuts up and moves on to the next. it's an almost child-like mentality of "I just do what I'm told." and that's why Wesker is surprised to hear her ask for more information. when he says "I do not pay you to ask questions" it sounds like the very first time he's ever had to say that to her. ever. me: back up. how do you get from "feeling guilt over what happened to Leon" to "she's never questioned Wesker"??? my brain: Ada is extremely intelligent and, as a spy, curious and investigative by nature. if you think about how completely bewildered she was by Leon's change in attitude and demeanor, it only makes sense that she'd have a moment of "how the hell did this happen" followed up by the question of "what's driving him to fight so damn hard for a government that did what they did to him?" with the found answer that Cid gives Benedikta about Clive: "he's fighting for something he believes in." it's not about the government. it's about stopping something like what happened in Raccoon City from ever happening again. which then culminates in the thought: "why am I doing any of the things I'm doing? where are my efforts going, exactly? I guess I can just ask Wesker about it." me: holy shit me: you're right, it's not about drawing a moral line in the sand at all. that moral line has always been there. she just had no idea how close up on it she actually was. my brain: exactly. if not for her guilt over Leon, she would have never been inspired to ask Wesker what he plans on doing with the amber -- so, he would have never told her, and she would've handed it right over to him and been responsible for the deaths of billions. Ada is essentially learning for the very first time that her actions have consequences, like a toddler sticking a penny in a light socket. me: aight aight I feel u. but one thing to tack on: it's also probably not just Leon's influence at play here. there's probably something of Luis here, too. my brain: OH COOL I CAN MAKE IT EVEN WORSE THEN me: gODDAMN IT NO

[s1llydr3amscape]

Here some ye olde Vanessa designs i managed to find sifting through my sketchbooks (pre sb!!!!) There's more but Its really deep in the trenches.

rip their 4head broo they have no brain 😔

I miss doing stylised stuff tbh but ppl bullied me for it so now whenever I do it I go 😭

very old art vs my current art style and oc's below + rambles :

this was right After the freaking posters released and oughhhh 😭😭😭😭 gurlll

top name cut off that Blaine guy are other human ocs I had for years!! They were in a comic with Vanessa and others heheheh I used to do comics 24/7!!! Ft my old fnaf ocs rival to fazbears who was better at keeping the safety aspect off their robots. I wanna ramble abt them too one day after a heavy rehaul. Vanessa actually switched jobs from my oc location to the Pizzaplex in it!!!! Because I hope Vanny and Vanessa were seperate!!!

Vanessa and Vanny were seperate people in my Rabbit City AU but idk if I still want them to be different or the same now. Also one of Glitchtraps workers who managed to break free from his control and he didn't like that and sent every piece of her crimes online on the Internet as this crazed murder. So now she's in a new city under hiding or face criminal charges she didn't commit willingly. She managed to dye her fur and change enough and became a roadie for this band that's not very good. (Ffps rockstars I love yall funky vibe I'm sorry yall died too soon). She wants to help people and protect them she knows there's others under Glitchtrap’s control and wants to put a stop to him. Sadly some off them don't seem like they want any help... She was a beagle dog because when I saw her I was like beagle!!!!

My longest one is my oc story that's bad and outdated which included 3 rap battles (i love rap sue me) and an orange cat with green eyes with wings mc who's name try and guess

Its Winger.... (yeah because he was based off Scootaloo having small wings so young me thought ohhh Winged but like Winger because unlike scootaloo he can fly and is a winner!!! 💀💀💀 he also had beef with nyan cat oc over a girl and could transform into different elements!!! Like nature fire ice and rainbow... the main main main mc tho is a brown green eyed cat who was half robot after an accident... God looking back what was I on (I got into mlp and had unrestricted Internet access)

then we had this off my old sona... I didn't know how to draw fat could you tell... dark times oughhhh I wasn't blind tho then win 💀 alot of my older older art is traditional so you may not see it unless I sift through 17 layers off hell. Wish I backed up more of my 2019-2020 digital art tho but those were the darkest times for me also wait eewwww no eyebrows

ive gotten better and fr be the change you wanna see in this world draw fat bitches!!!! going down the rabbit hole

that one barbie trend I didn't finish look at the hands boy ouggh insane sauce I drew that

I miss drawing like this lowkey but my hand hurty and god ibis crashes every 25 minutes u was gonna gonna feral bro

self love is drawing urself accurately irl after years of drawing a caricatures of yourself (My first human sona ever was a skinny white woman with long neon yellow hair and a purple streak </3)

Gremlin from earlier I learned color theory aswell but only for purple, green and brown oops <333

I figured I could give it an oval nose because I didn't know how to draw my nose at all. Big ass nose death off me real!!! I love :3 face so much and big ass ears!!!! I will make them have big ass ears they are fun!!!!

These are my sonas I have like 4 rn and a million in thr vault (progress is progressing)

old oc his name is Jamie now and he's from a dream I had. Literally an incel too like he's studying magic got so fed up no one in his own world wanted him. Used magic to find his soul mate who existed in another universe. Made a portal to get there and take her back to his world because he wouldn't comply in a non magic world. When he arrived to her world almost died turning white and green. And like still managed to get the girl back to his world (Akuma's a goober who wanted to be isekaid) and yeah. Like huh my guy chill out 😭😭😭😭 no wonder you ain't getting any. He also killed me in the dream and is so dumb for being a prodigy??? Like he made a business selling illegal potions with the company name just vile.... his own initials... like bro how are you not caught. I can't with him. I pray opun his downfall and can't wait to see what other shit he pulls outta his ass. I feel bad for the Akuma she just wanted to escape not knowing this guy a freak.

heres him now!! He's much more dream accurate with the current events so far!!!!! If he appears next time I hope he croaks fr from the magic sickness like bro u a freak freak /neg

But yeah improvement is real!!! my art process is slower now (carpal tunnel) but I love to draw so much it is so fun if my bitchass ibis won't crash that is hehehehe (it crashed a million times trying to first time make a comic digitally I'm 💥💥💥)

[riacte]

🛸 exterrasexymenpoll Follow

THE RED KING from TEAM DOGWARTS and BLUE BATS

vs

HAND OF THE KING from TEAM DOGWARTS

Please stop mentioning the Blue Stalker in our comments. They have caused a lot of distress for the Exterra community, no matter how “sexy” they are or “how many bitches” they get.

Once again, we condone voter fraud, but we draw the line at spamming our polls with links to the enemies to lovers Blue Stalker x Red King fic.

🎇 thestarsweremadeforus Follow

OFHHDFJSJDJS ITS HERE!!! DIVORCE POST!!! HAND VS KING the boyfriends are fighting!!!

Not gonna lie I was so absorbed in the potential hilarity of this matchup that I failed to realise I have to vote for someone now. I’m. Im genuinely torn 😭😭😭

💄 gaysloveqoh Follow

stop saying treebark is divorcing when they BOTH are on qoh’s side 😭 they’re united in their respect for our queen 😤

anyways idk what to do now that blueballs is out. anyone wanna make an alliance with the ballgurls 🥰

🦇 starshipspachelbel Follow

You’re right, the gays DO love qoh (gays being treebark)

This is so cruel, putting the king against his loyal hand… I am drowning, there is no sign of land, you are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand…

#RKSWEEP though (I say with tears in my eyes)

👽 blueballs Follow

sorry but the blue stalker DOES get all the bitches 😎 more sexyman energy than xisuma exterra void anyway

anyways im endorsing red king LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOO

👑 princeofhearts Follow

To the #HEARTSWEEP people mourning their loss, why vote for [deadname] when you can vote for his transitioned self, the Hand of the King? Stop being so fixated on [deadname], he’s still RK’s gunner 😭

Btw the ship wars between RK x Hand vs RK x QoH are so stupid like the Hand and QoH are the same people???? Some miraculous laserbug love square type of bullshit? Anyways I support the prince of hearts 🙏

🍬 gunnerwithashotgun Follow

@/princeofhearts ur a freak, stfu!!! queen of hearts and hand of the king are TOTALLY different ppl (they have different bioneos colours) and ur being lumianphobic by thinking theyre the same even tho they're just the same SPECIES (they even have different cultures like the hand keeps on roasting rk for calling tuski "pearl" bc that's the way qoh learned it??)

🪓 handoftheking Follow

I’m adding “not False Symmetry / Queen of Hearts” to my bio. Like, she’s super cool, but I’m unfortunately not her.

Anyways, vote for me over that old man. You’re not letting a potato win, right?

💫 concorp-official Follow

Vote for the Red King! Show a screenshot that you voted for him at any ConCorp intergalactic outlet and receive a 5% discount, effective today!

⏳ rensanddaddy Follow

NOT THE OBVIOUS BRIBERY FROM MR CUB HIMSELF.... we need to vote harder for the Hand!! Just look at his blonde ass hair and blue dishwasher detergent freckles!! He's so pathetic and a meow meow and I want to lovingly crush him against the walls of a spaceship (im not the blue stalker i promise)

🐙 doctagon Follow

... guys. i. The actual Exterra official account on twt sent out the link to this poll?? The ACTUAL account?? We've breached so many layers of containment???????

🪓 handoftheking Follow

... Okay, that miiiight be my fault? It's good PR for us, right? We're the two sexiest racers in the Exterra industry on the podium together. It's good for our image, and maybe people will FINALLY stop truthing I'm transgender QoH

🌲 dilfkisser Follow

I hope we get a perfect 50/50 tie. I want homoerotic RK and his homoerotic Hand to both win. I want them to stand on the podium and make out while holding a pride flag while BlueBalls beatboxes in the shadows. I hope we all win. (Except the transgender lumian theory believers, go touch some stardust)

[crescentfool]

my art summary for 2023! this year was very all over the place for me, but i'm glad to say that i've created despite personal hardships (that were mostly unrelated to art) 🥺 thank you everyone for taking a look at my work this year! 💙 i hope 2024 will be just as fun! 🎉

some documentation of my feelings about art this year under the cut:

i think i was way too hard on myself this year with my art. and i am sitting here like. "goddamn dude. why would you do that to yourself for. stop that LOL"

honestly i would go in a time machine to give myself a pat on the back for drawing SPLATOON for the first time in like 6 years or something. trying to learn the proportions and figuring out how i wanted to draw splatoon was very hard. and i still don't know what i want my splatoons to look like!

i remember back in late 2019 i would bitch to my friend that i didn't understand how face anatomy worked and i would tell her how it was the end of the world. but as i drew more i eventually understood faces better (and i'm still learning!). funny how that works! so i like to think my sploons will be like this too :D

the other thing i would have told 2023 me: overthink less about the learning process. maybe it's because i have way too much free time on my hands but. when i'm not actively drawing i have a lot of analysis paralysis and perfectionism. so i end up not starting anything out of my comfort zone even if it's just for practice because my brain is so hung up on trying to "learn new things optimally" and making things "good enough." and. i. guys.

pleasepleasepleaseplease don't do that to yourself its NOT GOOD!! give urself permission to fuck up and make pieces that dont work out!! u can always revisit the concept later u dont have to do it perfectly the first time!! please!!! i am giving myself and anyone else reading permission to fuck up in creative endeavors. woo!!! i love making mistakes and fixing them later!!

THAT SAID for the things i did sit down and do, i like them (like the pieces here!)! and i'm glad i did them because its like! woaw! more data to work with! so im hoping to do more of that next year! sit down and let art come out! not everything needs to be bangers! things will click eventually! trust!!

so my goal for 2024 is to draw things out of my comfort zone (mostly backgrounds, maybe comics) even if it looks shite!!! no more fucking grid and gradient we are putting characters in LOCATIONS!!! and as a fun bonus it would be funny if each of my pieces in my art summary next year looks like it was made by a different person. because i think its funny to do that. and u should make urself laugh while doing anything :D (i love silly!!! yay!! yipee!! wahoo!!)

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Deliciously dark! Aemond taking his pet/wife (Dark!Aemond x oc) ((snow falls chapter 21, but can be read as a standalone for its all shameless smut anyway:)) The prince and the fox

You are Willa Wyldewoods, lady of Wyldecrest. After being denied your hand in marriage, Aemond murders your family and makes himself Lord of WyldeCrest, out-powering you. He claims you as his wife and spoils, He commands and goes over your home now and as you will learn right now: No one is safe under his reign. Not even you

WARNINGS: Especially for this chapter: Dark!Aemond (DUH!) ((We don't do half-blends here, he's 100% dark! Aemond slightly neglecting OC, but not on purpose (hes just busy) Slavery, abortion, non-con, insecure mc is willing to do anything to please her hubby and ...well hubby's mostly pissed lol. Sexist Aemond, unfeminstic Aemond, godcomplex/innocent kink as well as dom/sub themes,spankings, fucking, spitting, aemond degrading his pet and poorly translated high valyrian:)

It is late when you are preparing for your act. Aemond is still working, as his duties keep him late. Aurelia has put you into a new gown with a lot of leather and see-through fabrics, complicated designs, and confusing straps. You are also wearing more and brighter makeup than usual. Aurelia forbade you to braid your hair; it had to be loose and wild. You notice it tangles, and you absently play with a lock.

It is an uncomfortable long silence that follows. You both sit on the bed of Aemond and wait for him to appear. You hear Aurelia sigh impatiently. "Why does he even have to stay that late? He's a prince. He can quit whenever he likes. Have servants do his biding." You are a little confused by her description. For a girl that knows Aemond...

She has no idea who he is. That is more Aegon's style. Aemond would never do that. "He isn't as his brother. Aemond takes great pride and joy into fulfilling his duties. To hand it to a servant, he would never entertain such a thought." You tell her. "He is proud and stubborn.'

She sounds jealous when she speaks next. "You know him quite well. The Aemond I know does not care for duty. All He cares about is his cock." You wonder how the two of them became enemies or whatever it is they are.

"How did you meet?" You ask.

She smiles at you, though there is pain in her eyes. She proudly recalls how she meet the prince. You assume at a ball. Perhaps during a romantic storm and they both sheltered in the same building. Or he hired her in a brothel. "I was a 15th nameday present." Your eyes widen.

She is truly a slave. You are shocked. Your terror and pity are very amusing to her. "I am just as you, little snowflake. A dirty little spent slave bitch. Sold by my parents to Aemond as a gift by Aegon. You know what he told me, before he raped me the first time? That it was such a honour to be bestowed the possibility of carrying a son for the prince.' You feel shivers run.

You tear up even by her horrible description. Aemond had a slave. A slave he raped. "What if you had a girl?" You whisper soft. "What would he have done with you?' There is a chance that one day, you might give him a daughter as well. That would be a child he does not want. He once told you girls can be married off, and that is their use. Men will be heirs. Women will be property.

There is a long silence as you notice her fingers distantly rubbing her own stomach. "I did. Aegon handled it." Handled it. Handled it how?

Your mind draws the worst conclusion immensely fast. "They took the babe away from you?" You guess they put her into an orphanage.

She does not even hide the truth. "They gave me a potion. I spiralled, passed out, and woke up without any child in my belly, covered in my own blood, the remains of my child." So they did not even know for certain that the babe was a boy or a girl. They just saw a complication and went to solve it the easy way. With knives and poison.

You are disgusted. "Why would Aemond allow this?"

She scoffs. "Aemond? Aemond only liked me for one night. Aegon fucked me all the others. Aemond took my maidenhead, I spent the entire night sobbing. He hit me a few times to shut me up. He did apologise for it in the morning."

"I found him later fighting with his brother. They were screaming at one another and Aemond wanted to know if he still had the reciet to me. He wished to trade me for a unexperienced girl at the brothel."

"He would trade you just as that? For another girl?" Your heart bleeds. You have the feeling Aemond one day will do the same with you. Trade you for another girl. A younger, prettier, more innocent girl.

Aurelia frowns at you as if she is conflicted. "I pity you, little snowflake. It is a wonder you survived Aemond that long." She sighs sweetly. "I will take the lead during tonight's events. Aemond already thinks me a slut, you can be the innocent doe eyed girl and just be fucked."

Finally your husband enters. You have missed him so badly. You miss the way she smells as leather and burned wood. You missed the sound of his breathing and even the sight of his scar. You missed everything about him in a way you didn't knew you could miss someone that much.

Aemond has not seen you two yet and kicks out his boots first, put his coat over the chair by his desk and sights so deeply that you want to rub his back to comfort him. He takes a few steps back and turns, eying you finally in your new outfit with your new friend.

You have trouble reading your husband. You always have but now more than usual. You keep staring at him, waiting for any reaction.

He stares at both of you, tangled up together for him and him alone. For his pleasure. You wonder how you'll handle Aurelia touching Aemond. You don't like that thought very much.

Aurelia chuckles when slowly touching your breasts. "Good evening, my prince." She purrs at him when you are silent. She rolls you on your front and exposes your behind. She softly smacks you, lifting your gowns for him. He takes in your naked behind, fascinated by your lack of undergarments. "Greet him." She tells you.

You greet him as you always would. "Hello, husband." You say. "We eh thought you might wish to see us both tonight. We will do as you desire, husband." You speak soft as you practiced. Aurelia rolls her eyes at you.

"Don't mind your little pet, my prince. I am learning her all the deliciously dark things you like. She will be turned into a pretty whore once we are done here. It will be as if you took her from the silk of streets yourself." You gulp at her description.

Aemond leans in, breathing in your direction. You turn away, avoiding his gaze. He grabs your chin and forces his fingers to trace over your lips before he looks at your naked breasts. "You think I want anyone else fucking this little cunny?" His fingers go deep inside of you and you nearly grunt with anticipation. You buck helplessly but by the time you have processes his touch he is gone; leaving you high and hungry.

Aemond continues, rubbing your nippels and forcing your mouth open so he can ravish your mouth with a wicked smile on his lips. His eye shimmers beautifully and you are moaning helplessly against his powerful attack you can not fend off. "You think I want anyone else, touching what I died, fought and bled for? You think I want you to rise, crumble, and fall with anyone else but me in your mind, little fox?" He roars, firing himself up with his speech as well yourself. You tremble on the bed, and your hands are touching your clit. You rub eagerly, chasing the pleasure.

"I-" You mutter helpless, clutching your wetness and closing your eyes. Aurelia is slightly shocked behind you and she chuckles lightly when spanking your exposed cunt causing you to whimper it out in pure pain.

Aemond watches, his hands folded on his back. You assume discipline will be in order. You will be dragged, smacked, spanked, owned fucked and spend and sprayed upon. You will be a bunny fighting a wolf. You know who will top you. Who will force you into submission and who will enjoy your spoils and proclaim his victory over your body.

Aemond Targaryen. You weakly mutter a excuse for your behaviour as it becomes clear that Aemond is not aroused at all. You feel foolish. Ugly, even. "I only did it for you." You confess .

He lets out a wicked long laugh. He inspects your cunt, pushing your legs wide so he can see you properly. Nothing is hidden from him. He wets his finger tip and brings it it your soaked little cunt, making a few perfect circles that break your core and alight your soul. Your hips are grabbed by Aurelia and she brings them to Aemonds fingers. You are caught between them, helpless. You wish to speak again but Aemond covers your mouth with his hand, and you find it a little too exciting and clench your pussy muscles causing the finger to be taken deeper.

You beg aemond with your eyes for mercy and understanding. He only scoffs, a wicked gleam in his one good eye and a cruel smirk on his lips "O, Hush. You'll be silent until I have figured out a proper punishment for your treason."

You freeze, terrified. Aurelia is escorted out of the room by Aemond's hard voice. "Out, whore. Out. You corrupted my perfect pretty pet already. Crawl back to Aegon.'

He turns to you, his Submissive little dirty bad pet. He sighs, shaking his head, clicking his tongue. You feel your eyes wander, too frightend to look at Aemond. He slams the door causing you to flinch. He smirks, enjoying your fear.

When he speaks his voice is a mocking soft tone. "My sweet little naive pet. It appears I can't leave you alone without proper supervision anymore."

He might go back to restricting you or giving you a guard. Perhaps he will tie your hands on your back and chain you to the bed as his whore. You picture yourself trying to break free as his cock pounds you relentlessly, taking out his displeasure and anger on you. A small needy pressure between your legs reminds you are wet. "I can be left alone, husband. I have a been a good girl. This is all a misunderstanding..." You desperately try to explain yourself.

He scoops your asscheeks, making sure that you feel the pressure and warmth of his fingers. "I don't care, my little fox. You have proven to me that you need a big punishment." He whispers in your ear causing you to shiver and to twist on the bed. "You will be dealt with accordingly. You want to be a whore? You'll be treated as one." You let out a soft whimper as Aemond takes place behind you, first spanking you with the palm of his hand.

Once he thinks you have learned your lessons you crawl away from him only to be dragged back by your hair. You whimper in pain. "Ow Ow Ow Ow!"

"I didn't say you could leave." This time he changes his spankings into ruthless slaps that make your asscheeks jiggle with each crushing blow.

It is not spanking. It is slapping. He smacks down harder and harder as you come closer to where you wish to be. Your legs are parted and Aemond's finger eases in, you welcome him home.

Your breasts dangle as he slaps your asscheeks, inflicting anger and shame upon you. You are turning wet on his lap, cursing yourself for ir. You wish he would never discovered that you enjoy this brutal activity.

Aemond hushes you as you whimper, true tears spreading and clouding your vision. You are begging on your knees for him. "Please, husband. I only need the cock a few moments. You can have me as you like. I'll be your dirty little pet."

"Repeat after me: I am Aemond's little pet. My cunt is his and his alone. I will never commit treason to my husband again. The next time I need my pussy fucked, I come to him so he can fuck me, as is proper between man and wife."

You have no trouble repeating that. Desire dulls out your pride. You wait for him to continue. "Now, my little pet. You've had your pleasure." So it is time he will get his.

Excitement makes a slave out of you, eager to please your husband as you watch as he takes his pants off. His cock is red and swollen and pre cum drips down from it. You force your mouth under it, capturing the little drops of cum with soft moans and precision. "You will do your duties or I will punish you severely. Do you understand?" He whispers when a soft drop of cum splashes on your tongue, setting your body on fire.

You nod. "Yes, my Prince."

"You will refer to me as master or you'll be quiet."

You softly kiss his balls first, licking them for him. You taste cum and sweat a delicious combination that makes your cunt clench and your breath catch. You ease the tip of the cock inside your mouth, letting Aemond feel the muscles of your mouth work and softly message his length as he pushes it deeper and deeper inside of you. You start to suck.

A few drops of delicious cum are granted right away for your hard work. "That is it, little dirty whore. Take every drop I give you. You best swallow it all."

The erected cock leaves your mouth and you watch as it is pushed between your breasts. Aemond forces your fingers around his cockhead and you are watching speechlessy as he slowly paints your chests with a few beautiful white almost see-through drops of his cum.

You turn on your knees for him, so he may fuck you now that he is erected and hard. You clench your little cunny muscles already feeling the cock pound you without mercy or consideration. You'll be owned as a whore this time. It is what you always wanted from him but never could mutter outloud.

You repeat the words after him, desperately to get them right. "I am your whore. My cunt is yours. Please, my good master. I need to be humiliated. I need to be taught what it means to be a whore." You whisper.

You are met with silence. You beg him. You tear up. Until you feel a push in your back that forces you on all fours. You try 5o escape but are pulled back in a way that makes you gasp and giggle. Aemond smirks. "That was the answer." His cock meets your soaked entrance lips, pushing in gentle and soft at first. Your wetness makes for a very soft and smooth entering, causing Aemond to take you as deep as he can.

He stretches you out in a way, opening you up to him by slowly making his way inside of you, pushing forward as a soldier sieging a castle. Your moans and begs are desperate but ignored. It isn't long that you are filled completely by his thick and big shaft as your face gets wrinkles of pain and dedication.

"I feel your clenching. You are trying to milk my cock dry, aren't you, filthy whore?" You do just that. You don't even realize Aemond could feel you tighten around him as you do that. You repeat the process when nodding furiously. You feel him pounding away at your pussy, as spots cloud your vision. "Whores don't get to consent. They take the work they are given." He tells you when you are relentlessly pounded by his thick shaft. It hurts and yet you like the way it stretches you out. You tighten your muscles around him once more, eager for his release. He should coat your pussy with his cum. You are beyond wet and begging, your breath a soft pant.

He forces you to speak suddenly. "Tell me, slut. Do you wish to deprive me of my cum? Is that what you are trying to do with your pussy muscles?" He chuckles as you cry out once more crying.

You nod instead of lying. Instead of honourable you wish to get fucked. "Yes. It's...O...Good..."

"Since you can't make proper sentences and speak to your master with respect, you'll be silent." He tells you. The cock pounds harder and faster, ignoring your cries as he fully takes you with long hard possessive trusts. Your moans feel the room. Grunts and moans of pain leave your mouth as well as useless begs. You are owned by the prince.

You are so close. You brace yourself. Aemond notices your change very well and smugly pulls out. You watch his soaked cock, shimmering with your own transparent wetness as well as his own cum. You wish he would force it in your face so you can suck it clean for him. Your wifely duties have always fasinated you and you can't help but wish that one day Aemond would make use of you the way a owner makes use of his property. A good throat fucking when you suck and lick his balls for him, encouraging him to release himself inside your mouth. You would love nothing more to be grabbed and instead be injected into your face, the cum showing everyone at court what a whore you are. You fantasies take you further and deeper.

Aemond sits the iron throne, wearing a crown when having his legs crossed. He orders his guards to hand you to him. The entire court is present. Around dozens of people. His rich voice fills the room. "You are all here today because I commanded you all. You will see what my Willa, my little fox can do." He removes his pants very quickly and you are pushed on the throne. Your legs are spread and you are fucked when sitting the rough iron chair. You moan and gasp as your husband fucks you bloody on the throne, the iron causing small cuts and displeasure. He throws you as a animal on the hard grounds of the castle as you sob in pleasure, bucking your hips as he brutally takes you on your knees proving his dominance over you by ruthless pounding that makes you cry and beg. Noble ladies look fasinated with the prince's hard work, eager to have his cock for their own. You posessivly clench once more and start to clench repeating the process as he groans. You are milking him as he calls it. You will store all his cum inside of you, the way a dragon stores his treasure in his cave.

You are pounded as hard as Aemond can give his grunts and groans becoming harder. You need a big one. A good one. He takes a break, letting himself out...

Before slamming back inside of you, sending you closer and closer to the edge. "Such a good whore for me." He mutters to himself as he throws himself back inside of you, devouring your innocence and claiming you as his spoils. He pounds harder, pounding faster, pounding intenser. He pounds away at your body as your cries become a little louder. "I will make you cum you slut." He vows gripping your hips, driving himself inside of you as if you are a fallen soldier and he is a knife. You wish he would. You know he can.

He pounds away at you, until you are screaming incoherently and your lungs hurt from the cries. Your face is stained with sweat and tears as your husband makes his claim. He trusts even faster encouraged by your cries and your whimpers. "Beg for me." He groans.

You let go of your last bits of pride. "Please, husband." Your throat hurts when you Speak. He takes you mercilessly at this point. The pleasure kills you yet brings you back to life. You want it to stop but not that ends.

Your hips are grabbed tightly as Aemond takes a few deep breaths. "Scream for me. Let me hear how much you crave what I am giving you." He groans darkly. You nod weakly.

You scream for him, certainly loud enough for people outside the room to hear but you don't care. You wish to be good. "Aemond!"

Aemond takes you faster and faster and the line between paradise and reality blurs and blurs further and further. You hear the sound of flesh slapping against flesh as he takes you harder and harder he takes the control of you. "Say it. Say you will never belong to anyone else again." He whispers in your ear.

"I am yours. Only yours, husband, my master. My prince. My lord. My only one...My king."

Aemond eyes widen as he takes is these titles and your praise. You never been this bold before. He likes it. "Thank you, my sweetest little fox." He whispers before kissing your lips tasting his own cum on it. You nod, panting.

Aemond steadies himself. All it takes is one final push for the kinslayer to release his cum and load deep inside of you. You clench once more, eager to milk his cock when the cum flows so richly. You buck your hips desperately when Aemond curses in what you assume is high Valyrian. He finishes with a brute and inconsiderate pound, glaring at you as a animal.

It is enough to send you over the edge, causing you to fall down and to let go. Your body locks and tightens as Aemond takes it rapidly now, encouraging you to continue this marvelous show. He continues to pound a few times and with a slap on your ass and a hiss he sends you down for good. "My little fox, you will come now. You will soak yourself for your master. Show me. Show me what a marvelous whore I made."

With his approval and his approval alone, you finish in front of him, clutching him tightly inside of you when you cry out his name begging for mercy you are not worthy of.

Aemond Targaryen takes you in as you lay there, your cunt spend, wet and dripping. Your chest decorated with his cum and even your lips drip of saliva and cum. You feel tired and statisifed. You stop Aemond.

You need to tell him. Now. "Aemond; I have something to tell you." You whisper soft.

Aemond freezes and waits. You hesitate. His voice speaks and yoi hear a unfamiliar phrase as he touches your face gently. "Avy jorrāelan, willa. Issa byka dyni. Issa prince. Issa dāria. Issa jaesa. Issa ōños isse se zōbrie. Nyke jāhor zālagon dārȳti syt ao, nyke jāhor ossēnagon lī qilōni ōdrikagon īlva se daorun jāhor nykeōragon isse īlva ñuhoso. Avy jorrāelan, issa ābrazȳrys."

You don't know what he says to you. You become insecure. "Are you upset, my husband?" You ask worried.

Aemond sighs, smirking. "Go to sleep. When you have behaved tomorrow, I will share the translation." You nod, eager to please him. Aemond tucks you in and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead before he joins you under the soft blankets. Unaware to you, he does not sleep. He only glares at the door eager to get out. He has something to do.

(next chapter will be aemond pov)