#been doing some updates on his design too!!!

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  5 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: a series of risky decisions gets you into more than one kind of trouble.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

The next few days were spent in the confines of your childhood home, your bed almost becoming your permanent address as you thought about that kiss. The kindness and how the words expressed resonated with you in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.  But more than anything, how the kissing Father Sylus had made you feel - the tenderness of it all. But surely you were getting ahead of yourself and even found yourself a little disgusted with yourself over the whole encounter. 

But he had just been so close, too sweet, and his face was so beautiful, and all you wanted to do was press kisses all over him. 

But it’s wrong, isn’t it? 

Something inside you rebelled against the idea for obvious reasons. Any resolve you had would disintegrate when you decided to act or speak on it. 

But then, one evening, Rafayel called. You barely answered in time because part of you was hoping it would be someone else.

“Hey babe, just wanted to check up and see how you’re doing. Haven’t heard from you.” 

You blinked, frozen for a moment as you twisted into a sitting position on your bed. “Fine. What’s up?” 

He chuckled, and you weren’t sure if he was annoyed. You felt slightly upset at yourself for not reaching out when you could have. A normal rekindled friendship typically involves a friend being there for the other, especially after what he revealed to you. But before you could follow up with an apology, he spoke again.

“Nothing in particular. I wondered if you wanted to get some of the old gang together and go up into the woods like we used to.” 

You knew the place he was walking about, the old lumber yard out in the middle of the woods where the kids from town used to gather. It had been a favorite spot to hang out, build bonfires, other illegal shit teenagers liked to do when they wanted to get away from their parents. 

“What do you mean ‘the gang?’” You asked. 

“Well, uh, it’s just gonna be you and me. When I tried to call anyone else from school, they either laughed at me for being back here or didn’t answer.” You could hear his nervous laugh when his words cut off. “Still a small town, and everyone is the same.” 

You couldn’t resist, though. Even if you were a bit too old for that behavior. Reliving your past was one of the reasons you returned home in the first place. “I have nothing better to do, so yeah. Sounds great.” You paused, wondering if you had said the right thing, hoping that Rafayel understood what you meant. “Sorry, I’ve been…not myself lately. Lot’s on my mind.” You rubbed the back of your knee with your fingers before standing, keeping the phone to your ear as you crossed the room to where your suitcase lay open on a chair. 

“I get it.” He responded with a laugh, light and airy in a way that made you smile. “Life is pretty shitty, especially for people like us who - well, you know.” There was a hint of apology in his tone as you heard him open and close a door. “This is the perfect opportunity for me to listen to you now.” 

“I kissed the priest.” 

“Fucking, what? The hot one?” 

You sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward a bit, a bit shaken now with your admission. Even though you had spoken it out loud, you still felt as if you couldn’t totally come to grips with the situation. 

“Well, yeah. He’s the only one.”  You said, curling your hand around the hem of the comforter. “And I’m also in love with a married man. I’m losing it. This is what happens to people who don’t peak in high school or something!” 

Rafayel said nothing, obviously processing. Then he began to chuckle, which turned into a laugh. Then, he let out the most ridiculous roar of laughter. 

“Wow,” he managed to gasp out after a bit, only to laugh again. You could imagine how his shoulders probably shuddered as they shook and the grin plastered on his face. “Okay, once Talia goes to bed, I’ll grab her car and pick you up. And then you’re explaining this whole damn story to me. Got it?” 

“Got it.” 

“I can’t even comprehend this,” Rafayel breathed after you recounted your tale of how you ended up back home, finishing off with the way Father Sylus had kissed you and the way your panic overtook you. He shook his head, hands clenching and unclenching, brow knitted as he looked at you. 

The two of you sat in Talia's car, parked outside the old lumber yard in the woods. The empty dirt parking lot was bathed in the moon's light peeking through the clouds. The bowl on the dash between you both served as a reminder that some things hadn’t changed and that this was the first place you had smoked weed. 

Rafayel picked it up, fingers curling around the glass as he brought it to his lips. The flick of the lighter illuminated his face in the dark car, shadows dancing across his cheekbones as he inhaled deeply. You couldn’t blame him for his reaction. 

When he passed it to you, you mirrored his actions, feeling the smoke fill your lungs and the earthy taste coating your tongue. You held it in briefly before exhaling slowly, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

“And Xavier asked me out.” You said. 

Your friend’s face contorted in disbelief before he let out a short burst of laughter. “You’re joking, right?” 

“Nope.” You giggled and looked out towards the old building before you, wondering how he could think you were making any of this up. 

“Damn, you have three guys chasing after you, begging for scraps. I bet the doctor has loads of money.” Rafayel clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “This is every girl’s dream! I don’t understand what the problem is.” 

And as if it suddenly hit him all at once, he started to laugh, and the laugh turned out to be contagious. You both soon ended up in a fit of giggles inside the growing colder car. 

“I mean, what am I supposed to do? Ask him to leave his wife?” You huffed. 

“Relax! Think about it. People get divorced all the time.” The high was definitely setting in as Rafayel rested his head on the back of the seat. “And if he’s as hopelessly infatuated with you as you said, he might do it anyway.” 

“Rafayel! That’s horrible.” 

He leaned in and playfully nudged your shoulder, saying, “I can’t help but be honest with you. Who would I be if I wasn’t?” He caught the look on your face and rolled his eyes, flicking the lighter absentmindedly. “Or, you know, you could just call him up and give him a piece of your mind. Maybe that will push him right in the direction of Silver Springs.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered, feeling the familiar laziness creeping into your body. You barely resisted the urge to snort at his suggestion. “The Fleetwood Mac song?” 

“Yeah, Stevie cursed him, you know. Lindsey. In ‘97. Hexed him right on stage in front of everyone. So if I were you, I would call him up and tell him what direction he can shove his thumb up his own ass.” 

You laughed again, shaking your head at Rafayel’s ridiculous suggestion. The pot was doing its job, making everything seem way funnier than it should be. 

“I don’t know, man,” you sighed, sinking further into the seat. “Even if Zayne does leave his wife for me, which would be so wrong, what about Father Sylus? I mean, I kissed a priest, for Christ’s sake!” 

Rafayel took another long drag from the bowl before setting it between you in the cupholder, smoke once again billowing in the car as he responded. “Hey, forbidden love is the hottest kind. And I figure if I’m going to get any entertainment out of this town, it’s gonna be from you at this point. So just call the fucking doctor while I’m still high.” With that, he shoved your shoulder, and you turned and shoved him right back. 

You grumbled as you reached for your phone, unlocking it as the smoke settled around you. You scrolled through your contacts until your thumb was right over the number. It was so tempting, especially with the encouragement of the young man beside you - but you stayed still. 

You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you. 

“Fuck it.” You breathed deeply, heart hammering, and hit the phone symbol. As soon as you heard the first ring, you nearly jumped. 

Why do I do this? A mantra in your mind, like a worm in your skull, beating against the insides repeatedly with a tiny hammer. 

You waited, putting the phone on speaker so the idiot beside you could hear. After a few long rings, you were about to hang up when there was a click. An unfamiliar voice picked up instead of the one you were used to, and the wave of anxiety almost made you dizzy.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, not as straightforward or bubbly as you had imagined she would sound.

Silent, you swallowed thickly, and along with the fear, you felt the ache settle in once again. The sharp guilt began coiling around you. You looked toward Rafayel, who suddenly looked just as panicked as you. He quickly grabbed your phone, raising an index finger to his lips and giving you a stern look. 

“Hi! Uh, I’m calling about your car's extended warranty!” Rafayel quickly stated, cutting off whatever the woman was about to say next. Then, he turned and threw your phone out of the open window. 

The two of you stared at each other blankly. Then, all the adrenaline hit you at once, and the numb haze obliterated. 

“Oh my God, fuck!” You managed to say, trying and failing to fight the delirious laughter that began wrapping through your body. You barely noticed your vision clouded with tears, and your next laugh came out mixed with a sob. “That was his - and you just - HA! You threw my phone out the window!” 

“Listen, Y/N, I don’t think that was a good -” 

“FUCK.” You kicked the dashboard with your foot, the glove compartment popping open and spilling its contents onto the car's floor. “How could you throw my phone out the window like that?” you cried, turning to glare at Rafayel through your tears. 

He held up his hands defensively. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret later. That was his wife on the phone, not him! What were you going to say to her anyway?” 

“I don’t know!” you wailed, burying your face in your hands. The high rapidly dissipated, ruined, and replaced by a growing despair. “I’m a horrible person. What am I doing with my life?” 

Rafayel sighed and scooted closer, draping an arm lazily around your shaking shoulders. “Hey, you’re not a horrible person. Do you want a Xanax?”

“No, I don’t want Xanax! Go get my phone!”

“Okay, okay! Just chill out.” Rafayel moved to open the car door but paused, a muttered curse leaving his mouth before he hurriedly attempted to clean up the drug paraphernalia scattered on the console. Then he turned just in time to have a flashlight shone in his face. In all of your agitation, it appeared that neither of you had noticed the other vehicle that had pulled up. 

“Hi, Tara.” Rafeyel greeted the deputy at the window with a thinly veiled hint of irritation as he shielded his eyes with the back of one hand. “Good to see you.” 

Tara looked at him, and then her eyes landed on you and widened slightly, her mouth parting as she put the two of you together. “Really? You’re back home?” 

Tara was only a couple years younger than you, and there was no surprise that this was her chosen profession. You remembered how she used to hang around all the time in high school, staying behind and hoping you’d ask her to hang out to go to a party. Even back then, it was as if you couldn’t shake her, the girl pursuing anything and getting into anything she could think of. 

“So, uh.” Tara leaned over and peeked into the car, leaning her free hand on the window. Perfectly manicured nails and the same cherry red lipstick; her features and skin soft. “What are you guys doing?” 

You started to laugh again, unable to resist the odd delight rippling through you. Rafayel tensed, and his lips pressed together as he looked at you in warning. 

“Nothing, officer.” You answered with a grin. “Don’t you have more important things to do? What’s all we ever did when we came up here?” 

Rafayel slapped a hand to his forehead. Tara scoffed and looked around nervously, as if confused as to how you reached the admission you realized shouldn’t have slipped out of your mouth so easily. Her sudden lack of boldness reminded you of the faux courage she often displayed when she was younger, which was why you were never that close with her. 

As long as you’ve known Talia, she was the type to call the priest whenever something happened. Even though you partially expected it, you were still on edge seeing Father Sylus walking into the tiny police station with her. 

You were sitting on a bench with Rafayel, feeling angry and frustrated, and your high completely came down when the two of them walked in. Your head snapped up at the sight of the tall man next to Talia, looking composed and put together while she looked like she had just taken a sleeping pill. It truly was no surprise to see Talia rushing in to rescue Rafayel from whatever trouble he had gotten himself into. 

“Rafayel.” Talia’s small, five-foot frame was in front of her nephew. “You…” She rubbed her temples and let out a groan. 

“Sorry, Talia.” He held up his hands, which were cuffed together, a bit of a chuckle leaving his mouth as if he thought this was the most amusing thing that could possibly happen to him. 

You averted your gaze again, the memory of the kiss burning in your mind, and you couldn’t bear to look up. A fresh wave of shame washed over you. Talia’s exasperated voice faded into the background as your heart pounded. 

“Come on, let’s get you two out of here,” Talia finally said with a sigh. She turned to Tara, who was seated at the desk nearby. “I’m assuming there won’t be any charges? They were just being stupid, right Tara?” 

Tara glanced between you and Rafayel, conflict flickering across her face. You could see the gears turning in her mind, weighing the social capital to be gained by letting this slide versus following protocol. After a tense beat, she sighed and waved a dismissive hand. 

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s go fill out the paperwork.”

Talia nodded curtly and followed Tara out of the room, and an awkward silence descended, thick and lingering, although you couldn’t pinpoint the cause of it. You kept your gaze fixed on the scuffed linoleum, tracing patterns with your eyes. 

“Hey, Father,” Rafayel said, “What’d Talia say when she called you?” 

“She asked for a ride, said she would kill you, and needed someone to perform the last rites.” 

Rafayel let out a short laugh at Father Sylus’ dry response, but you remained silent, still unable to bring yourself to look at the priest. Your mind kept replaying that moment - the gentle press of his lips against yours. How could you face him now, after what transpired between you? What would you even say? 

“Right.” Rafayel hummed, “Suppose I should thank you then. Potentially saving my soul and all that.” He nudged you with his elbow, “Ain’t that right, bestie?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You mumbled, only lifting your head when Tara appeared in front of you to remove the handcuffs from your wrists. Talia moved before her nephew, jingling her car keys before dropping them into his hands. 

“Let’s get out of here before I change my mind, Rafayel,” She grumbled. He flashed her a cheeky grin but wisely kept his mouth shut this time. 

“I can take Y/N home.” Father Sylus nodded toward you once you stood and shook out your wrists. Nervously, your eyes flickered to Rafayel, who looked terrified for you for a brief second before mouthing the words, 'Touch his butt.'

A moment later, you found yourself outside the police station next to the priest who had consumed your thoughts since that ill-advised kiss. You shivered in the harsh autumn breeze that cut straight through the light jacket you wore. You risked a brief glance at Father Sylus. He stood without a jacket, radiating heat, and for a moment, you wanted to press against him to feel that warmth. 

You found your words. “I - I can get home on my own,” you said, a bit harsher than was necessary. “I’m an adult the last time I checked.” 

Father Sylus paused at the bottom of the steps and turned around. There wasn’t any tension or hesitation in his tone, just like the other night. He was just genuinely inquiring. “How are you feeling, Y/N?” 

Shivering slightly and wrapping your arms around yourself, you looked toward the man and offered a smile. Your voice had the faintest tremor as you tried to joke, “I’ve been better.” 

Father Sylus glanced at you from the corner of his eye as you fell into step beside him, releasing a little snort at your sarcasm, a gesture that, for some reason, sent a hot rush of awe through you. 

“That’s all right, Y/N.” He said with a sad smile. “We can talk about it later if you want. For now, the important thing is getting you home.” Reflexively, his hand came to rest on the small of your back as he steered you toward the parking lot.

Just the brief caress of his warm hand on your back made your thighs clench. It didn’t mean anything, you told yourself, but your stomach churned as the sweet electricity of his touch rushed through you. 

Stop it, you told yourself. He was just showing you where he had parked. Yet his lingering warmth was flooding your senses. Swallowing thickly, you pinched your brows together and hoped you didn’t actually upset him in any way. 

“Should I be worried?” he asked. 

“About what?” 

“The things you’re into.” 

Stopping, a hard lump formed in your throat, and the entire world fell into a hush. The nearly pitch black parking lot of the police station, the night chill, the beautiful priest that just - was he teasing you, now? 

“Again. I’m in my twenties. Weed,” you snapped, emphasizing the last word, “Isn’t a big deal.” 

His palm felt scorching through your jacket as he closed a hand around the top of your shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“Hey now,” He said, making your breath hitch as you stiffened slightly. “It was just a question.” 

You said nothing, simply sliding into the passenger seat of Father Sylus’s car.

A quiet settled between you two in the car, then. All you could do was look out the window at the dark neighborhood and overanalyze every word, every touch, trying to pinpoint exactly how you felt. But how could you even explain that the man beside you gave you the thrill of wanting to do something terrible? Because there had been a moment with him, something that broke the reality of the relationship the two of you had. It didn’t necessarily feel awful, more like an unspoken truth waiting to be expressed. 

You tried to control your emotions and thought process, registering that you were in front of your house now. Just as you were going to say goodnight and grab the door handle, you heard Father Sylus speak. 

“I owe you an apology for the other night.” The quiet murmur was easy to miss, but you did everything possible to hang onto the sound. A mix of breath. You looked back at him, trying to catch his eyes in the darkness only illuminated by the porch light from the distance. 

“I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” He continued, “I’d still like for us to talk.” 

As tempting as it was to open the car door and leave, the ache in your belly nearly overwhelmed you. A terrible, crushing sense of longing settled in. Knowing where the lines were drew a blank in your mind. Where the hell were you supposed to draw the line? Fuck, was this situation genuine, or just one of opportunity? 

“Can I ask an inappropriate question, Father?” You choked out, swallowing the lump of anxiety that wound its way around the base of your neck. You watched as he shut the car off.

“What is it?” He wasn't looking at you, but the hand still on the wheel tightened slightly. 

Inhaling deeply, your heart thumped at an aching speed as you murmured your question, your voice beginning to betray how much he affected you. “Do you kiss a lot of girls?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

Why the hell did you mean to bring that up? What good would knowing do, even? Right, of course, you would just go ahead and ruin the image of purity - what was the worst that could happen? 

“Well,” You continued, unable to stop yourself but choosing your words carefully, “You kissed me. So, do you kiss a lot of girls?” 

Father Sylus was quiet for a long, brutal moment. You felt sweat bead on your skin despite the car being cool. Clenching your fists and digging your nails into your palm, you try to brace yourself. You hadn’t intended to ask your question so outwardly , but what other way was there to put it? 

“Y/N, you’re trying to minimize our connection,” he said. He took a deep, steadying breath and then rubbed a hand over his brow. “And I can ignore it. I can try to pray for the strength to bear it.”

Then, he met your gaze directly. In the light from the porch, you could see how his crimson eyes tore into you, emotion suddenly exposed and bared. For the second time, he had allowed you to glimpse what was hiding under the careful mask he put on. 

You almost flinched as he touched your knee, his tone dropping. “But I won’t diminish it.” 

You found yourself falling, then, into those wounded eyes. You slid your hand forward and set it over his, the heat from the simple touch making you feel like you had touched an ember. 

Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned across the center console to kiss him, slow and sweet. 

Please don’t push me away.

For a moment, you feel his surprise. However, just before you pull away, he pulls you forward, one warm hand sliding up your back and the other threading through your hair gently, reverently.

You moan softly into his mouth, and his grip tightens slightly. He deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue into your mouth. You lose yourself in the feel of his lips on yours, his hands on your body.

The gentleness he handles you with stokes the fire within you, warming you from the inside and slowly turning into a fever. You long for him to hold you tightly, to show you he wanted you too - you need that affirmation. 

Then his lips grazed the shell of your ear, voice husky and warm. “You’re far too close for your own good.” 

What sort of torment was this? All these words hung in the air that you wanted to say, but none came to your mind except for - 

“Fuck me,” you rasped. Your face felt hot as the words spilled from your lips, driven by the intensity of your want. “Please, I -” 

He silenced you with his mouth, capturing your lips again. His kiss is no less intense and consuming but maintains a level of restraint that a part of you hoped was rapidly crumbling. Your hands move on their own accord, reaching for his belt. 

A hand on your wrist stops you before you can go any further, his skin like silk against the pounding pulse point of your wrist. It was a heavyweight, slowly making its way up to where your heart was beating wildly. 

He’s looking directly into your eyes when he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles gently. 

“No here, sweetheart.” His voice is feather-light as he speaks. “Not like this.” 

While he let go of your wrist, something unseen held you in place. But it was only momentarily before the horror of what you had tried to do crashed over you. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, I - what the fuck am I doing?” 

With the state you were in, it wouldn’t take much for the well of tears to come. Unable to look at him, you unlocked the car door and pushed it open, nearly tripping on your feet as you stumbled onto the pavement. 

You didn’t look back, fearing falling apart, and slammed the door shut. 

Rather than going through the front door, you circled the house and went up the back porch through the kitchen. Once inside, you walked past your dad in the living room, who was sleeping on the couch with the television blaring and a near-empty bottle of beer within arm’s reach. 

You went into the bathroom in the hallway, shut and locked the door, then slid down onto the cold tile. 

The rejection shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. No, this was different. Something deep inside, something raw and fiery, made the ache grow exponentially. It was the memory of the touch, the intoxicating mixture of scents. 

Anger clawed its way to the surface because you couldn’t even wrap your head around what you felt. How pathetic, how foolish, how humiliating. 

Clutching the sides of your head, you let out a scream, frustration causing your body to shake. 

You wanted so badly to disappear. 

Did God have a sense of humor or something? 

tag list: @celestialforce @readerxyourbabe

[genopaint]

Been in a big Axel the Alligator mood lately so I redesigned some characters the last couple days and even introduced a new villain!!

Here's some of the notes I included about them all from twitter :) it's below the readmore

To go along with the new Axel the Alligator arts I did a bit ago, I figured I should draw the No-Name Grunt again! I gave them a bit of a make over from last time

Most notably their suits are now purple to match Camilla the Chameleon's, since they are her henchmen after all!

If you don't recall, these are basically Axel's goomba. The basic bottom of the barrel enemy the main characters fight. They're all a part of Camilla's seemingly never ending gang. They all follow her every order because they're obsessed with her, but she can't even be bothered to remember their names. Thus, the No-Names. Instead, they're each given a numbered belt and she just calls them by their number.

There's TONS of No-Names, that's why there's even color variations for the grunts you encounter. But there's even different classes of No-Names.

Like bruisers, fliers, stuff like that. However, I want to redesign them a bit more cause I wasn't 100% on their old designs. SO you'll have to wait and see if I bother with them. But you get the idea, the grunt kind of represents the whole army of underlings anyway.

Oh, and of course... No-Name 10,000. The super special ultra rare No-Name encounter. When you defeat it, it drops TONS of gold and exp!

Also some really quick sketches for some of the other No-Name classes with this suit redesign. I think it's cute they're all kind of matching but now I worry maybe they're not unique enough? Before their suits were all different colors... idk... Much to think about...

It's gonna be a WHILE before I get to make an Axel the Alligator game so I'll keep thinking on it lol

And of course there's probably gonna be a lot of No-Name enemy types it all just depends on what I would want / need for each game I suppose lol.

They're like Badniks, they reuse a lot of old ones but new ones or variants could show up wherever it's needed

----

And of course, where there's No-Names, there's the No-Name generals! Similarly, Camilla doesn't care to remember their names. But they're juuuuust important enough to be allowed to command her underlings when she's off doing more important things.

Uno the Uromastyx is Camilla's original #1 super fan, and as such is the leader of the generals. He's a bit stuck up and loves to wave the fact he's #1 in the others faces.

Dos the Daboia is a bit of a loser and is ALWAYS panicking. He's constantly worried his suit is too blue.

And Tres the Tree Lizard is a chaotic girl who loves explosives. She's constantly building bombs to create chaos. Whenever the No-Names use explosives, they're probably her creations.

They're the ultimate undying loyalists to Camilla, and they all HATE Carnage and Behemoth because the trio was there first and yet Camilla makes Carnage and Behemoth her right hand men. Out ranking even the No-Name generals.

But of course, Uno, Dos, and Tres stand no chance at ever beating either of them. Even if they gang up on them.

----

Two more Axel the Alligator characters! Sol the Saurus I've shown before and has a shiny new redesign. But Ceaser the Ceratops is his brand-spanking-new rival!! Pretty neat!

These two existed from before the meteorite came... What on earth are they doing in present day???

Sol fights with a giant sword that builds energy as its swung, and Ceaser fights with a giant shield that builds energy as its hit. They used to be allies but that was a long long long time ago

Also I'm not 100% on Ceaser's design or name so don't be surprised if I touch it up

Also here's an updated height chart with the No-Names and these dinosaurs. Again it's not 100% accurate but it gives an idea (Behemoth IS taller than Dos it's just a bad pose I promise)

also a comparison with some short guys in front of the dinosaurs :)

My concept is that Axel characters don't really stop growing as they age (which I believe real reptiles do the same thing?) so since these dinosaurs are from ancient times they'd have grown a CRAZY amount in the mean time. idk

[a-reb]

a little chromite doodle since hnk ended,,,,

[bmpmp3]

Getting into stuff that has a lot of pre-announced release dates is really good for me like vocal synthesizer products and new love live etc franchise music releases....I'll be lying in bed at like 2 AM with ur usual 20-something's fear and existentialism over time and the future and then I'll remember a piece of singing software or a new song related to cartoon characters I like is gonna come out like next month and I'm like 😌

[kellystar321]

.

[circeyoru]

The Only Reason

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader]

Note: I have no idea what to call this AU, but I don't think a lot of people will read this so... Haha~ Mental AU? Chaos AU?

Update! This AU is called Mana Chaos AU! Plus there's Part 2 up!!

Part 1 (here) 一 Part 2

Once, the world’s strongest Hunters were revered as humanity’s saviours and heroes for the weak and ordinary. They were once treated like celebrities and hold the highest power and authority. They were respected, praised, and idolized. They still were, now, with a hint of fear.

It all happened due to the infamous incident now dubbed as <The Outrage Incident>. It happened like any other day, in any other country, in any other city. But to only that one strong Hunter. He was an S-Rank Mage, a successful and loved one at that. The story goes like this. 

One day, this powerful Hunter was out on the street enjoying a day off, but something set him off and he used his powerful ability to set things right. It would have been the end of it since an S-Rank’s threat was enough to make the majority crumble. However, his power got out of control and caused an outrage to his being. He was using his powers in public and there was no dungeon outbreak or monsters nearby for him. No amount of justification could calm the public.

After that one incident, other countries’ S-Rank or higher started to experience a similar issue. The worst case was that even Healers of their level didn’t escape such a phenomenon. Soon, the public feared the strong protectors they once saw as shields and swords against the gates. 

Researchers and scientists were put to work quickly to investigate why and how this issue was happening now. The answer was in the overflowing mana levels within their bodies that couldn’t be contained since the human body was weak and frail for such a change. Addition to that, it correlated to the Hunter’s emotional level and their control. Institutions were built to imprison house the S-Ranks while monitoring their situation. 

Whenever an S-Rank’s mana levels and emotions show signs of <Outrage>, a term they now use to describe the Hunter going haywire with their powers on everything and anything around them, they will be sent to a dungeon alone. In the people’s eyes, it was better for that one Hunter to die in battle than kill innocents. Because at first, it was only the S-Ranks, but then some A-Ranks would fall victim to <Outrage> as well. 

The professionals have named the correlation as Emotional Mana, EM for short, which made way for the Emotional Mana Institution, EMI for strong Hunters. The Hunters were treated like mental patients or worse, forced into a straitjacket and some had a muzzle for certain Hunters. These were specially designed and created items that limit and restricts a Hunter’s use of their powers and abilities. 

It was a miracle that someone managed to create such equipment. That someone was also targetted by the S-Ranks after being announced and killed for such a disrespectful act, still the blueprints and prototypes were created and other talents that took over were able to finalize the perfect form.

“Personnel 002, you were specifically requested by SM-10.” 

You looked up from your laptop and paused in your rapid typing for just a few second before you looked back to your screen and continued typing. That code name was to protect you and everyone else that worked in EMI or have some form of connection to it, so that no innocent is sacrificed for the greater good. Still, you can’t get used to it nor do you want to. “I’m busy.”

“Please… SM-10 is way too picky with the people that enters his cell.” This person, Supervisor 843, was one of the newest employee to join the crew. Though, unlike the name of the duty, they were people that were disposable hence the frequent newcomers and high number. “Please help me.”

You sighed and glared up at the person who had a mask over their head and a voice changer to mask their identity. Though, with the way they were speaking, you could deduce this person was a ‘she’. You got up and snatched the file extended to you. Just when you thought you could rest and work in peace, trouble comes knocking on your door. “Get me a drink and some refreshment, I want to see it on my desk by the time I’m back.”

“Yes? Yes!” Supervisor 843 bowed and clapped her hands together, “I’ll do so!”

As swiftly and automatically, you made your way through the hallways and doorways, tapping your access card to unlock needed doors and lifts for your travel. On the way, other Supervisors nodded their heads and bowed in your presence when you walked by. Unlike them who wear a uniform, you only have a lab coat over your usual outfits. You don’t even have a mask or voice changer. 

Why?

You stood in front of the door that was labelled in bold ‘SM-10’, meaning the 10th S-Rank in Korea that belonged to the Mage class. The guard dressed in black from head to toe nodded their heads at you before they started unlocking the various security checkpoints and locks for you to enter into a battlefield in its own right.

“Will one hour be enough, Personnel 002?” One of the guards asked.

“Not sure, just be alert in case I need to rush out.” You spoke stoically with indifference.

Step by step, you walked in, announcing loudly of your arrival to the individual inside. The doors closed behind you and locked you inside with what everyone feared. You sighed and put away your glasses since there was no need for it right now. The room was eerily silent and cold, something you were long used to. 

You took a few more steps, walking deeper into the room where it seemed to get darker and darker even though the lights in all housed Hunters would be on 24/7 to monitor their actions and activities within the room. 

Just when your vision failed you to the point where you can’t see what was in front of you, you were enveloped in a pair of strong arms, your entire form effortlessly pulled back till your back was pressed against a firm wall of muscle one would call chest and abs. Hair tickled one side of your cheek and neck, you felt a breath cooed before a deep voice rang in your ear, “I’ve been waiting for my favourite Personnel~”

It wasn’t at all odd that your name was called as well, if it was someone like him, he’d know everything there was to know. In fact, everyone should be worshipping him right now for his controlled and well-mannered behaviour. Especially when he could have destroyed this entire facility and killed everyone in it within seconds if he so wished. 

“Jinwoo. I need to work, don’t bully the newcomers.” You sighed while looking to the side as if making eye contact with him. 

“I like it when you call me by name and not some code, thanks for that.” Jinwoo hummed as he played with your fingers. “I guess I’ll think about it. It’s a bit bored here, you understand.”

“You removed your straitjacket again.” You let him fiddle with your fingers as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “You’ll get caught one of these days and then it’ll be game over.”

“Igris helped me remove it. You know how they are with seeing me constrained and imprisoned here.” He chuckled and leaned back, but it turned out he was just taking a seat, presumably on his bed since you still couldn’t see anything in the darkness. “Don’t worry, I’ve made sure no one could see me free and they didn’t kill anyone. Yet.”

Every Hunter that was admitted into the EMI was evaluated and thoroughly investigated to create the perfect profile for reference. All their fighting style, powers and abilities, weapons of choice, gear type, and any other detail was accounted down. It was all for people to be prepared in case one would have an <Outrage> and they were needed to be countered by weaker Hunters. 

For Jinwoo, however, his profile was lacking to put it in the best terms. His mana levels were unmeasureable, yes, so he was placed as an S-Rank. Though, his powers and abilities were unknown. Since he was a Reawakened Hunter, most would assume he was the same class as he was as an E-Rank; a Fighter Class. But he exhibit <Telekinese> and <Shadow Manipulation> so he was placed as into Mage class.

That wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. 

You saw through his innocence and lie, uncovering his true powers and abilities. To be honest, even if you told your higher-ups of Jinwoo’s secrets, there was nothing they could do to counter it. Jinwoo was a league of his own and only you knew it. He was no mere S-Rank, he was definitely a National Level Hunter.

Ah, yes. The question as to why you don’t wear a mask or bother having done anything to hide your identity. It was not because you’ve been in one of the people who has been in service of EMI for the longest time or wanted something as shallow as respect from the newcomers or other coworkers. It was completely because you knew it was useless to hide when someone like Sung Jinwoo had his eyes on you.

“I’ll try and arrange a dungeon for you to raid.” You marked down on your phone while Jinwoo continued to treat you like a teddy bear.

“You have to join though. If you don’t…” Jinwoo’s voice went deeper as glowing eyes stared at you from the shadows, “I don’t know what I’ll do to get your attention…”

You nodded, pushing down the urge to flinch or jerk away from him. It was normal, something you expected but still unnerving to hear with your own ear from his lips. You swear this place made the Hunters mad in the head, it was a place that made them sick and mentally ill, it wasn’t actually helping them at all. “Yeah, of course. I’m sure everyone will be relieved to hear it.”

Jinwoo smirked as his arms tightened around you, his face buried between your neck and shoulder. “You’re the only reason I stay here. Remember that. If you leave here… Leave me… I’ll do what Thomas Andre did to America.”

Note: I can't help it, it was supposed to upload the requested ones first, but then this idea hit me like a truck (without the isekai part), so now here it is. There are like 2 requested stories written and ready to be posted, but I'm double checking and stuff. Hope you like this AU/idea.

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (none at the moment)

[solaireverie]

f1 | i'd be the man

summary: [ drabbles ] you're the formula one driver and he's your wag. (aka the toto wolff-ification of the fast car boys)

warnings: mentions of racism and sexism

author's note: i had so much fun coming up with non-f1 jobs 😂 i'm convinced that most of the boys would still be obsessed with f1. considering doing this for other drivers, drop some suggestions? 👀

→ CHARLES LECLERC

Charles is a fashion designer who works for one of your sponsors. You find his designs slightly... peculiar and aren't afraid to tell him. Determined to prove you wrong about his vision, Charles volunteers to be your primary point of contact for your partnership with the fashion house.

Your meetings are contentious in the beginning, neither of you understanding the other. You leave each consultation with a throbbing migraine and a barely suppressed urge to throw something at Charles. If only he weren't so damned stubborn. (At the same time, you know that his passion for his craft is half of why you even deign to meet with him.)

A grudging respect forms between you after months of friction and endless banter about what exactly you want your sponsorship to look like. If hard-pressed, you might even call it a friendship.

Charles has been a Formula 1 fan since childhood and is secretly a fan of yours. You find out after you meet him for a design meeting after a rough race and he suddenly goes on a rant about how the driver who took you out was being ridiculous and how you deserved better. You're completely charmed and interrupt him by asking him out on a date.

He's the absolute best boyfriend that you could ever ask for, following you to all the European races and supporting you from Monaco when he can't make it. Charles delights in being able to provide a bit of stability for you in your hectic life. He puts up photos of your race wins in his studio and proudly tells all of his clients about his girlfriend and her achievements.

(You still won't listen to his fashion advice, though.)

→ MAX VERSTAPPEN

Max runs the cat shelter that you adopt your cat from. You notice how cute he is the first time you meet him but you're too shy to make a move — besides, Max cherishes his quiet life and you don't know how open he would be to associating with a public figure like a Formula 1 driver. Still, he's funny and kind and you somehow keep talking.

It starts out innocuously, just pictures and updates about your new cat (because Max cares about all of the cats that he's ever taken care of, even the ones that have been adopted into good homes) and occasional behind-the-scenes updates when you find out that Max likes Formula 1.

Without realizing it, Max becomes one of your closest friends. He catsits for you when you're out of the country for races, picks you up from the airport after international races, and cheerfully beats you at sim racing whenever you have the opportunity to game together.

Max realizes that you're basically dating around a year into your friendship. You sleep at his place, in his bed, more often than not. Sassy likes you more than she likes him. You have his coffee order memorized and he knows your parents. (Your mother adores him and constantly encourages you to make a move.)

He's patient, however, and waits for you to realize your own feelings as well. Dating comes as naturally for you as your friendship did. Although Max doesn't always enjoy the media scrutiny that comes with dating a Formula 1 driver, he takes full advantage of the attention to defend you at any given chance.

In fact, you've been asked multiple times by your team principal to get your boyfriend to calm down before he offends another driver, but you wouldn't change Max for the world.

→ LANDO NORRIS

Lando is a Twitch streamer with a decent following who specializes in gaming, especially e-motorsports. He gets the chance to visit your team's garage when he wins a e-sport tournament. He's an unabashed simp fan and immediately makes a fool of himself when he meets you, but you find it adorable.

(Lando swears up and down to anyone who'll listen that he didn't mean to blush and accidentally propose on the spot.)

You cheekily tell him to take you out on a date first and he surprisingly gets his act together and actually follows through. Lando is incredibly kind and clumsily charming despite his awkward exterior. You can tell that he genuinely likes spending time with you and wants to hear what you have to say.

Lando switches to Youtube and vlogging when your relationship stabilizes so he can spend more time with you. His fans — and yours — love catching glimpses of his elusive Formula 1 driver girlfriend in his videos. It's a running joke among his fans that Lando is your sugar baby, which Lando finds extremely funny and shamelessly accepts.

Eventually, both of you realize that you've found the love of your life and you start thinking about marriage. You propose to each other at the same time, on the vacation that you each planned for the other, while your mutual friends who knew about both sides die of laughter from the sidelines.

Lando insists on taking your name as well and declares that he's now officially your trophy husband.

("Get it? You get trophies from your job, which brought us together, so technically I'm a trophy now too?" "Yes, Lando, I understand double entendres perfectly well." "Ooooh French, fancy!")

→ LEWIS HAMILTON

You meet Lewis in your childhood. He karts at the same track as you and you bond over the shared experience of being "other" from the other drivers. No one ever bets on either of you to be fast, to win, so you bet on each other. Lewis supports you with his entire being, even when he chooses to leave racing to chase other dreams. You dreamed of reaching Formula 1 together but Lewis, in this world, is happy cheering from the paddock.

Everyone around you is convinced that you're dating Lewis, who has become a highly successful model and philanthropist. Who else would would take time out of their insanely busy life to follow you around the world? The closeness between you doesn't help either — Lewis acts like your partner more often than not.

Despite appearances, however, Lewis is just your best friend, and it stays that way until a PR disaster with your respective relationships calls for extensive damage control. The best distraction that your media teams can come up with is that you fake-date each other: what better to appease the masses with than the ever-beloved tale of childhood friends to lovers?

The fake relationship changes something in your previously stable friendship. Suddenly, you can't stop seeing Lewis in a different light and you find yourself wishing that the romance was real. You're terrified of losing one of the most important people in your life, so you keep quiet about your true feelings for months as things calm down.

Eventually, your manager gives the all-clear to end the ruse and you end up scrambling for a reason to maintain it. By that time, Lewis has caught on to you. He stops by one night with a bottle of wine and your favorite movie. As the credits play, he leans over and kisses you softly — the first time he's kissed you out of the eye of the public.

You're lost for words and he quietly assures you that no matter what happens if you pursue a real relationship, he'll always be your Lewis.

Ten years later, happily married with a couple of championships under your belt, you couldn't be happier that you had chosen to say "hi" to the boy at the karting track.

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist | taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii

[azullumi]

“affection weaves into the letters on your screen” ; aventurine and ratio

premise — messages and calls between you and him.

content tags — w/ gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, texts and messages, not proofread, 0.8k ; headcanons

note — i needed something easy and nice because everything has been too stressful

If there’s one constant thing about AVENTURINE is that he is an avid fan of messaging, texting, or whatever the proper term for that is. No matter where he is and what he’s doing, he’ll always find the time to type in a message for you and press send—it could be about anything, from the random thing he’ll see while he’s walking which he thinks you’ll be interested in to how his day is going and possibly, ranting about it. The only time he’ll be inactive is when he’s in the middle of something, like completely and utterly busy that he couldn’t pick up his phone to check up on you or update you on what he’s doing.

Would use the most out of everything; calls, voice messages, attachments, everything. He’ll use stickers whenever he can and would use those silly emoticons because why not? He’s very expressive overall; it’s like you can hear his voice, see his expression, and the gestures he’ll do over the screen. 

PHOTOS !! There are new ones added to the shared gallery of your conversations with him every single day. He sees something cool? He takes a photo. He’s currently having a meal? No questions asked, he’ll take a photo. The critters are in this silly position? The camera is pointed at them already and the image of them in a circle while seemingly discussing something is sent. He’ll send selfies of himself throughout the day and he’s the type to pose with random things; there was a time he sent you a photo of himself holding a potted plant (he said it was an addition to his office and he thought you should know). It’s ridiculous, you may say, but he can’t contain the smile on his face when you send a photo back.

Occasionally, it’s videos that he sends.

It’s the late night calls and messages. Aventurine has sleeping problems, struggling to fall or stay asleep no matter how much he physically exhausts himself, so when worse comes to worst and it’s already midnight yet there’s no ounce of anything that makes his eyes heavy, he’ll message you—asking if you’re still awake and if you’re doing anything. It’s your voice that guides him to his dreams, gentle and delicate as a lullaby; by then, you’ll receive no response from him as you call for his name and you’ll have to whisper to him goodnight as he sleeps.

BONUS : on the topic of calls, he likes spending time with you in silence as you do your own thing while he also does his own. Your presence is enough to comfort him and keep him grounded.

VERITAS RATIO is not much of a texter and if he does send you a message, it’s mostly about engineering designs for a machine, requesting that you give him a set of questions if he needs something to simulate his weary brain, sending you links to a sign-up form for a debate that is occuring, or proposals for a certain project as he asks for your input. There are times you’ll find yourself debating with him—all just casual and he won’t throw a chalk at you. However, the line of your conversation between you and him is short and is separated by intervals; he just prefers talking in person or over calls. 

He’s probably the fastest typer you know but he rarely ever makes typos, like ever. He types strictly and formally with proper capitalization and punctuations with the mixture of the words that would require you to bring out a dictionary to understand, always starting his sentence with an uppercase and ending it with a period. It feels like you’re having a corporate or business meeting whenever you’re talking to him due to how formal he is over text (you can probably hear his voice whenever you read his messages too).

“DRYEST TEXTER IN THE UNIVERSE EVER” some would say and maybe you too, however, there are traces of sweetness and affection in your (short) conversations with him. He’s the one to greet you first in the morning, so expect that the moment the sun has risen, there’s a message notification from him displayed on the screen on your phone—the time you’ll rise from your bed, your sleeping and wake-up patterns are embedded in his mind and he ensures that you always wake up with a good morning. 

In note with that, sometimes, you’ll find yourself wondering if he even thinks of you, if you occasionally appear inside his mind and distract him from his work—doubt begins to muddle your thoughts. However, you must remember that he’ll always send you reminders throughout the day, telling you of the agenda you have planned for the afternoon which you told him once or twice the day before, reminding you to finish this task you’ve been procrastinating on, or just simply telling you to take a break or to eat something (especially when he knows that you don’t take care of yourself).

Be kind to yourself, will you? He looks out for you and cares for you a lot even if you may think otherwise.

EXTRA : doesn’t call and is not exactly a fan of it, however, if his phone were to ring and he sees it’s you calling for him, he wouldn’t hesitate to answer it.

tagging the one and only amazing and lovely @toorurs 🗣️ first of all, i’m sorry that i haven’t replied to your tiktoks when i told you i will (plsdonthateme) and second, i actually dont have a second thing to say. anywaysss!! i think we’ve both been busy these days or maybe it’s just me (sorry finals are approaching) but do know that no matter what happens i still treasure and love you as a friend ‼️ i saw this one plant in our trip yesterday and i remembered you i dont know why i think it’s because it was pretty and the color reminded me of you 🫶🏼 but yeah, keep on doing amazing things and amazing works (DONT DIE FELI THE WORLD WILL LOSE AN ANGEL) !! you’ve become one of my most favorite people ever and remember that i will always be here for youu mwa

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VIII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,115

CW: MDI 18+, SMUT, p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receving), fingering, possesivness, corruption kink, praise kink (use of good girl) toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, co-dependancy issues, not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

a/n sorry it took so long to update...but heres the wedding night!, next chapter will be a time skip!

(go to the divider by @zaldritzosrose, to skip the smut)

The feast passed over in the blink of an eye and before she knew it her and Aemond stood in his, or now their shared chambers.

Her belongings had been moved over during the ceremony, though they all seemed slightly out of place amongst his things.

Before, in the rare times she was in Aemond’s room, everything was always neat, nothing out of its designated spot, though his rooms lacked anything too personal, with no tapestries or rugs, nothing to permanent too show they were his.

Though it was no surprised that he seemed to have been own personal library in his rooms, with a whole wall dedicated to his collection.

Now the rooms seemed warmer, with his bookcase draped in her tapestries, the floor covered in her rugs. And his bed filled with her mountains for pillows and blankets. His room was bigger than hers, and it allowed everything, even her seemingly endless wardrobe to fit in effortlessly.  Though apart of it still felt strange. Perhaps it was how the furniture was so different from hers. Where her bed was carved with sea horses and dragons, his was bare, bar the one carving at the centre of his bed, a dragon, Vaghar.

Her vanity had been brought in, all her belongings placed perfectly, her new chemise placed carefully on the bed.

Her maid, Jeyne, had accompanied her. Taking of her dress and her jewels.

She already missed her gown, hating that she only got to where it for a few hours and would never be worn again.

“Would you like to keep it?” Jeyne asked softly, as she brushed through Aemma’s hair.

“yes” she nodded, it was such a beautiful dress, weeks and weeks had gone into the design alone. With its ivory coloured, laced with gold designs of dragons. The way the were sewn in away that they almost looked as if they were dancing, some beaded with emeralds, some with sapphires and the others beaded with black opal gems. “its too beautiful to be discarded off, may haps we could have the dress made into another gown.”

Jeyne smiled softly, “of course, princess”.

The door opened then, and Aemond entered.

Jeyne stepped back, curtsying before leaving the room.

They were alone, truly alone. It was different than all the times before, this time she stood before him, in a sheer chemise, that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Aemond” she whispered as he stepped into the room.

He wore a rich red robe, where he had changed you did not know, but the sight of his bare chest peaking out from his robe, caused all thoughts to cease.

“Aemma,” he moved towards you, smiling, his eyes filled with something akin to a predator watching its prey. “you look stunning” he hummed, his hands coming up to play with the straps of your chemise.

You gave him a shy smile, “i-I so are you?” she said, nervously.

He hummed again, moving her strap to fall of her shoulders, “are you nervous?”                                

“yes”

He hummed, his hand reaching up to grab her breast, she gasped. “good” he whispered, “it will hurt, but only the first time, and then…then my sweet Aemma you will feel nothing but pleasure” he vowed, moving up to take her lips in his.

She moaned into his mouth, her feet stumbling backward until she landed on the bed. She gasped softly as she did. He leaned over her once they had reached the bed, his hand gasping her chin as he pulled her into another kiss, before pulling back and standing between her legs.

He kissed his thumb as he moved back to look at her, taking in her form. Her hair messed slightly, her chemise had fallen slightly, only one move away before falling off and revelling her breasts to him.

“off” he said, motioning her to stand up, nervously she did, her hands going to pull her chemises up, “no,” he said, stopping her, “I shall see all of you”

She looked down at the floor nervously, before reaching once again towards her straps.

As she pulled her chemise down, Aemond let out a loan groan.

“gods, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen” he said, causing her to blush.

“I want to see you to.”

Aemond smirked, reaching to pull of his robe, he bared himself to her. His full form, the muscles on his chest, his half erect cock.

She blushed even more taking him in. “I think you are most handsome, Aemond” causing him to smile, a true smile. “but I want to see all of you” she insisted, moving her hand towards his face. He grabbed her hand as she reached for his eye patch. “please” she asked.

He hesitated, “why?” he almost sneered, “tis your brothers fault I lost it”

“but its not mine.” She sighed, “please Aemond, I wish to see my husband, all of him”

He sighed, before letting go of her wrist allowing her to remove his eyepatch.

He had expected her gasp in fear, retreat away from him. Instead, though she gasped, it was more in awe than anything else.

“is that a sapphire?” she asked coming to caress his scar. He nodded. “its beautiful” she sighed, before placing a soft kiss below it.

She smiled softly, as she took a step back, “have you…?” she asked, shyly, she did not know much of what was to come, bar what her septa had told her, and though she grew jealous of the idea of Aemond lying with another woman, a apart of her hoped he had, hoped he could guide her and teach her. All she wanted was to please him, make him happy, and how could she if she didn’t have him to show her how?

He nodded, smirking slightly, “of course, wife” he nodded, moving to grasp her chin, “but worry not non of them shall ever compare to you” he said as he kissed her once more. He held her face to him, gripping the back of her neck, his tongue teasing entrance into her mouth before finally pushing his tongue into her mouth. And ever submissive, Aemma allowed him to dominate her mouth. She moaned softly into his mouth, as she once again laid back on the bed, his body effortless slotting over hers.

His mouth slowly left hers, moving to kiss the nape of her neck before slowly dropping to his knees.

He sent her a smirk, as he buried himself between her thighs.

He licked her folds teasingly at first, savouring the taste of her.

She was growing wetter and wetter with each motion of his tongue, moaning softly as he started to focus his ministration on her clit.

He gripped her hips as he gave fast and quick licks to her clit, his eyes meeting hers as she gripped the bedding in pleasure.

“Husband” she moaned, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, for so long he had worshiped the sound of his name on her lips, but hearing her call him her husband? The possessive in him became tenfold. She was his, in the eyes of the gods and the realm, she was his and he was hers and nothing could change that. And gods did he love it, love her.

His tongue moved faster, realising in her moans. His arm still griped her wait, stopping her from moving his hips, though his second arm left her waist, moving his fingers to tease her whole.

She was tight, completely untouched. She gasped as he entered her, her walls clenching his fingers as they entered her.

Groaning as he imagined how they would soon feel wrapped around his cock.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace, as he sucked at her clit.

“Aemond” she moaned this time, reaching her hand to grip his hair.

He groaned as she did, before reaching out to grip her hand alongside her waist.

His fingers clenched around him, her peak approaching.

Her moans came more present, getting louder and louder before she let out a high-pitched moan, her whole body reacting as she came.

Aemond moved back slowly, taking in her messy hair and bliss ridden face.

She was out of breath, collapsing fully on the bed.

“wife” he groaned, his body moving over hers.

She smiled softly as she looked up at him.

“is that what it always feels like?” she asked, breathless.

He smirked, “It can”

“I want to do the same to you?”

He looked unsure at her request, though he had imagined fucking her face countless times, he craved to feel her hot cunt wrapped around his cock.

But as she moved up to kiss him, her hand slowly reaching down to grab his cock. He groaned as she nervously touched his cock, her face determined to please him.

“Aemma.” He groaned, as his face buried himself into the nape of her neck.

He shoved himself off her, her hands slowly falling from his cock to her thighs as he moved.

“up” he demanded, as she nervously stood from the bed. ”kneel”. She did so hesitantly, looking up at him with nervous doe eyes.

The sight alone was enough for him to cum.

his hand gripped her jaw as she looked up at him, his thumb pushing into her mouth slowly. “suck” he demanded, as her reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She complied without complaint, gently sucking on his thumb as he pushed it into her mouth. He groaned as she did, moving his thumb out of his mouth.

“kiss it” he said, pushing his hips so his cock moved closer to her face.

She looked up at him unsure as she kissed his tip. Her lips were soft an gentle as they kissed the tip of his cock.

“again” he groaned, as she kissed it again, her hands laid pliantly on her knees , her hair now gripped between his hands as he made a makeshift bun as he held her head to his cock as she started to pepper kisses across his cock.

“fuck, Aemma” he moaned, “open” he said, and as she did, he slowly pushed his cock between her lips.

her mouth case warm, the feeling of her mouth felt almost as delightful as he imagined the walls of her cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock.

her hands slowly moved up from where they say on your knees. One hand gripped his waist, in an attempt to stabilise herself as Aemond moved her head to bob up and down his cock. the other went to reach for the base of his cock, he barley fit in her mouth, and as she gagged around his cock, causing him to groan and the eyes rolling back.

“fuck” he groaned again, “use your hand to grab what cannot fit” he moaned, moving your head faster, “move it up an- yes like that, good girl” he moaned as she started to motion her hand up and down on the part of her cock she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

He moved his hand to grip the back of her neck, his hips now thrusting forward as he slowly started to fuck her face. Though he didn’t for long as before he knew it he could feel his own peak approaching.

He tore himself from her mouth, causing her to groan at the loss of him in her mouth.

She looked up at him, bewildered, before reaching forward in an attempt to take him back in her mouth.

“no, Aemma” he laughed, pulling her body up from the floor. “on the bed.” He said, as he himself moved to lay back, patting the space beside him.

She crawled across the bed to him, stopping in front of him. His legs were spread, and she crawled into his lap, softly kissing his lips.

She could taste herself on his tongue and she was sure he could taste himself on her own tongue.

She could feel his cock between her thighs, edging closer to her cunt.

“lay back” he said against her lips.

Laying down on the bed, Aemond once again crawled on top of her. His hand moved down to her cunt, his finger gathering up her wetness as he once again teased her entrance, he pushed two fingers into her slowly, stretching her more so that he had before, preparing her for his cock.

She moaned as he did so, the stretch delightful as he pumped her full, but she still craved more, she craved his cock.

“please” she begged.

“please what?” he hummed, pumping her slowly.

“I want you” she moaned.

“you have me.” “no…I want your…your cock” she whispered the last word, feeling dirty from saying it .

“my cock?” he teased, as he removed his fingers from her.

“Yes!” she groaned, moving to grab him, “please”

He hummed, smiling softly as he positioned himself between her thighs.

He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed into her.

Her face scrunched discomfort as he stretch her and broke her maidenhead. He pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length.

He moaned as he fully entered her, her tight walls encasing his cock in such a delightful way.

“gods, Aemma” he moaned, as he buried his head into the nape of her neck.

“move, please” she begged after a moment, her hands moving to grip his arms, as he slowly started to thrust his hips into her. He started of slowly, allowing her time to adjust, but as she started to roll her hips into his. He began to pick up his face, slowly setting a fast rhyme. His hand moving from her sides to grip the head board as he started to pound into her.

Her moans grew louder and more high pitched, her legs moving to wrap around his waist.

“keep your eyes on me” he groaned as she closed her eyes in pleasure, her legs fell from his hips, her eyes fully fixed on his as she started to reach her peak.

The eye contact was like nothing she had experienced before. His eyes were dark, possessive, and yet also filled with love. The pure amount of emotions in her eyes pushed her to competition, as she let out a high pitched squeal, her arms gripping his pack, living small scratches as she came.

Her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, causing Aemond o let outa moan of his own as he worked her through her orgasm, before finally letting go himself, filling her with his cum.

They got little sleep that night, with scarce few minutes before being awoke once more to heated touches, her cunt stretches with his cock in more ways than she could count. She have never felt anything like it, the pleasure beyond imaginable.

As she awoke now she traced the lines of Aemond’s face gently, taking in his beauty. He was truly spectacular, all sharp lines and edges, his silver hair and purple eye.  She envied his beauty, how Valyrian he looked and how little she did.

She hoped there children would inherit his beauty and not hers. She adored the idea of carry a little Aemond.

She smiled softly as she played with his hair, only stopping when a knock was sounded on her door.

Grabbing her robe, and quickly brushing her hair she opened the door, only to face her mother.

She smiled softly as she greeted her, “mother” she said, motioning her to step inside, her mother grimacing slightly as she took in Aemond’s sleeping from. “what can I do for you?”

Her mother sighed, looking down in shame “ we are leaving…now”

“what?”

“I- we cannot be here much longer, the- we are unwelcome so we have decided it best to leave.”

“but I just got married, I thought you would stay at least a few more days”

“I know…im sorry”

Aemma scoffed, “sorry? You do not write me, show up for a few days and then leave again! You are not sorry! You just don’t want me! I doubt you ever did!” she cried in aguish.

“no.. no Aemma, dōna riña, that’s not true.” She moved towards, her reaching for her hands only to be met with Aemma’s rejection, nyke bardutan ao naenie letters, kīvin zijo.  nyke dōrī jiōraton aōhon se nyke pendagon bona se greens- alicent se aemond hid zirȳ hen ao naejot gūrogon ao hen nyke” her mother spoke, chaing to high valyrian as if to keep what she ahd to say a secret.

i wrote you many letters, i swear it. i never got yours and i think that the greens- Alicent and Aemond hid them from you to take you from me.

“daor daor, nyke ȳdra daor belive ao!”

No no, I don’t believe you!

“iksan telling se truth, ñuha jorrāelagon, emā issare torn hen nyke se kostan daor bare naejot ūndegon ziry.  eman issare vēttan ezīmagon iā issaros se kicked hen ñuha own lenton, istin henujagon”

i am telling the truth, my love, you have been torn from me and i can not bare to see it. i have been made into a stranger and kicked from my own home, i must leave.

Aemma scoffed, “nyke- nyke, aōha verdagon bē excuses muña! Aemond vestās ao would, skoro syt shouold nyke believe ao? especially skori īlē sīr adere naejot jikagon nyke qrīdrughagon?”

i-i, your making up excuses mother! Aemond said you would, why shouold i belive you? especially when you were so quick to send me away?

Her mother let out an irritated sound, “have I lost you complete, Aemma?” she asked sadly “I have been so blind, I should have come with you, should have stayed here-“ “then stay!”

“I can’t”

“I don’t understand! What have I done?” she asked, she was confused she didn’t know what she had done, why her own mother couldn’t stay, why she had left her.

“i- you have done nothing” her mother insisted.

“so you are leaving just because you do not like me? Or is it because of Aemond? You were always against our friendship, and yet you were the one who proposed we wed! you are so-“

She was cut off by Aemond, their shouting waking him from sleep, “get out!” he demanded, “all you do is upset my wife, I shall not have it!”

And her mother left, with no complaint only sad eyes and the word goodbye. The way she said it made her feel as if her mother felt like she had lost her forever, as if this was there final goodbye.

Next part

taglist

@melllinaa @zillahvathek @ateliefloresdaprimavera @bellaisasleep @aleemendoza2425-blog @bunbunblogsblog @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @ka1afbr @winchesterfamiliebusiness @gghoulzz @dark-night-sky-99 @violet-potter @iamthehybrid @duckworthbean @winter-soldier-101 @apollonshootafar @deeeeexx @zzz000eee @meowtastick @flrboyd @cynic-spirit @wondergal2001 @aelora-a @amanda08319 @may-machin @sarahkimtae @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew @adira033 @babyzzlove @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @zimzala01 @aegonswife @littlebirdgot @justbelljust

to be added to taglist

[illyrianbitch]

Memories

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: While packing some boxes, Azriel is overwhelmed by memories of your relationship.

Warnings: slight angst if you squint, established relationship, fluff fluff fluff :)

Word Count: 2.1k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The apartment was a mess of half-packed boxes and disheveled belongings.

The scent of change hung in the air, thick and heavy— and Azriel was choking on it.  He stood in the middle of the chaos, a forlorn expression etched onto his usually composed face. The bedroom was empty now, save for a few scattered objects and packed cardboard boxes, ready to be taped and taken away. 

Azriel wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He had expected a certain amount of sadness with the move, a certain feeling of leaving something that had once meant the world to him. Even still, he was struggling with the swelling in his heart. He felt his wings behind him now, heavy and tense, as he looked around the room, gaze landing on his various packed boxes. 

He could hear chatter downstairs, could hear Cassian’s laughter and Mor’s grumbling. Azriel’s shadows were downstairs now, too, as they had stayed for the past two weeks of moving out. There was one lone shadow that bounced between the floors, updating Az on every movement and conversation— Cassian had accidentally taped Mor’s hair while attempting to fix up the final living room boxes. Mor had accidentally hit Cassian in the face as a response.

Azriel let out a deep breath, walking towards one of the many opened boxes. His golden-brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he gingerly lifted a delicate porcelain teacup. His fingers traced the intricate floral design and a memory washed over him.

It was a rainy afternoon, the kind where the world outside seemed to blur into a grey mist.  Azriel had come to visit, carrying various items that Feyre wanted to drop off but couldn't herself due to her growing belly. It had begun to pour while he was there— in the small apartment he now stood in. You had insisted he stayed, insisted that the weather was too awful for him to make it home. He didn’t have the heart to tell you he’d traveled in worse conditions. And in all honesty, he had found himself unable to leave, anyway. 

You’d invited him into your kitchen, brewed some tea and sat across from him, the table complete with mismatched cups and saucers. Azriel had his wings folded neatly behind him as he sipped the floral tea you brewed, nervous about how large he appeared to you, worried about knocking any one of your small decorations over. The sound of your laughter, bright and unrestrained, had filled the room as you both fell into a natural conversation. He realized that afternoon, in the gloomy grey weather, the awful things he’d do to see you smile again.

And was then he was met with the comforting realization that he didn’t need to do those awful things at all— because you’d asked to see him again once the downpour stopped. 

A sad smile tugged at Azriel’s lips as he carefully wrapped the teacup in tissue paper. Setting it aside, he reached for a worn, leather-bound journal, its pages filled with scribbled, heavy-handed notes. The sight of it tugged at his heart, another memory pulling him under.

You had given him the journal during one of the quieter nights at the townhouse, your fingers brushing his as you handed it over. “For your thoughts,” you had whispered, your eyes sparkling with encouragement.

Azriel had never been a journal lover before, had never been one to write down his feelings, his thoughts, or observations. His job was to observe, yes, but he never thought about it farther than that, had never thought about what he could do with those things he realized, where he could put the multitudes of thoughts that often clouded his mind. 

You had been the first one to ever suggest it— suggest it in a way that was sincere and genuine. You told him that it would be worth it, and when he had made a comment about no one wanting to read what he had to say, you had simply said, “I do. I always want to know what you’re thinking. But that doesn’t matter. No one but you matters.”

So Azriel had taken to it immediately, filling its pages with thoughts, concerns, and observations of various moments— he grew to adore it over time. It helped him with his impulsivity, with his anger, with his loneliness. Even his shadows had grown to love the hobby, had learned to sleep as he wrote away, had learned to delicately ghost the words on the pages as Azriel scratched away his thoughts. 

Azriel’s heart clenched as he placed the journal down and a wave of emotion ran through him like a heavy tide. Tears pricked at his eyes and he swallowed, moving on to the next item—a small, crystal vial filled with shimmering stardust. 

It was the first Starfall since he’d fallen for you, and the night sky had been alive with dancing glittering souls. You managed to catch a handful of stardust, bottling it as a keepsake of the perfect evening. Azriel still remembered how beautiful you looked, how nervous he had been to talk to you that he ended up making some joke about you bottling up a dead spirit for eternity. You only laughed, a sound that he wished he could’ve bottled up in a vial, saved for later like you had done with that stardust. You stared at the glass vial, admired the shimmering glow for a few moments as Azriel had admired you. Then you had given it to him with a whisper: "For you. Even in the darkest times, there's always light." 

He didn’t know how to tell you the gift wasn’t needed, didn’t know how to tell you that you were enough light for him. He’d taken it with shaky fingers— which he prayed to The Mother you hadn’t noticed— and kept the vial in his leathers on every rough mission. It became his talisman, a beacon of hope and love. A connection to you. 

A lump grew in the back of Azriel’s throat.

“I got the tape!”  

Your voice echoed throughout the hall as you rounded the corner, a delicate smile on your face.

The smile quickly fell at the sight of your mate and you stilled, his shadows swirling around you before descending to the ground, quickly dancing over to his form. The room smelled of a bittersweet sadness, of something longing, heavy, and sad. 

"Az, what's going on?” You asked softly, placing the tape on top of the open box before him. “Why are you crying?"

Azriel blinked rapidly, shaking his head softly before turning to look down at you. "I'm not crying," he said. He offered you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes— the same eyes that seemed deep in thought, seemed contemplative and conflicted.

“Azriel.” You gave him a knowing look and gently placed your hands on his face, wiping away a stray tear with your thumb. "What's wrong?" 

He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. And then he took your hands in his, bringing them to his lips to kiss your knuckles. His lips were soft against your skin, his kiss feather-light and almost sacred. A warmth inside you blossomed at the softness of his touch, and you let out an appreciative, loving hum.

Azriel brushed the pad of his thumb along your fingers. His gaze fell to your left hand, to the golden ring that adorned your ring finger. A smile grew on his face. He traced it with his thumb, running over the cool metal, inspecting the intricate patterns he had the jeweler carve into the ring— something special just for you. Something as unique as the unbreakable bond you shared.

"It's just strange," Azriel said quietly. He lowered your hands. "I never thought I'd be here. I never imagined ending up so happy.”

You tilted your head at him, feeling your lips fall into a small pout. Azriel only looked at you with a sense of adoration painted through his features. He let out a small breath before he continued, taking a moment to scan the empty room once more.  “I'm sad to leave this apartment because it has so many memories.”

"Oh Az," you said softly, your voice almost a comforting coo.  "I'm sad too. We made some great memories here."

Azriel nodded, his gaze growing distant as he recalled the life he had built here, the life he had fought for with you. He thought of the many times he’d walked you home, when this apartment had just been yours— slightly too big for just one person, slightly too empty that even you felt like it was missing something. He thought about the first time he spent the night, how his shadows fell into place, how they strangely adored the corners of your home, the wood-paneled hallways and plaster banisters. He thought about the day he moved in, how he woke up in the middle of the night afraid that it had all been a dream, only to be lulled back to sleep by your soft whispers, gentle touch, and a whole lot of sweet, sleepy sex. 

He let out a small, content laugh. "We did."

You tugged on his hand, pulling his focus back to you. When his eyes met yours, his gaze softened, and you felt a glow in your chest. You gave that divine thread between you a small tug, felt it sing deep within your ribs. A rush of life flowed through you, something bright and hopeful. The air around you changed, less bittersweet now, less heavy. You smiled gently. 

"Now we'll make even more memories in a place that’s big enough for all of us."

It was then that you pulled his hand towards you, taking his large palm and placing it on your stomach. His fingers splayed over the growing bump you now adorned. From underneath your hold, you felt a release of tension in Azriel’s hands. 

Tendrils of shadow hovered over his touch, gently dancing across your stomach as Azriel admired the sight before him. His voice was tender as he whispered, "How did I ever get so lucky?”

He blinked, tears welling up in his eyes again. He flickered his gaze back to your face, meeting your eyes instantly. They mirrored his own, welled up with tears that brimmed on your waterlines. You laughed softly. 

The sound rippled through Azriel’s body and he felt himself melt even further into you. Even his shadows simply sat atop your belly now, almost unmoving, as if they too were admiring you— admiring all that you were. They had taken a specific liking to you since you’d gotten pregnant, never leaving your side unless it was absolutely necessary— Azriel was grateful for it, grateful that there was always one lone tendril that would keep him company, too, that would update him on you whenever he wasn’t in the room. 

“You know, I'm the pregnant one with all these hormones, not you," you teased.

Azriel chuckled, eyes shining with love. The muscles of his cheeks ached with the deepness of his smile.  "Forgive me if I get a bit emotional thinking about the love of my life and our future child."

You felt your knees almost buckle, felt something flutter in your stomach at his words. The love of his life and his future child. You and your future child. 

"My sweet, sappy mate."

He laughed again, the sound rich and full of life. He pulled you into a gentle embrace. "I love you," he said, his voice now carrying a sincerity that made you breathless, a tone that spoke of a vow and a promise. His eyes scanned your face, taking in every feature. 

Oh how you hoped your child got his eyes, got the beautiful hazel they contained, the flicker of brown, dots of green. You hoped your child got his laugh too, the deep rumble that made you feel love in every way possible. You blinked away a few growing tears. 

"And I love you," you replied, your heart swelling with joy. You stepped back, giving him a gentle nudge. "Okay, now get to packing because my feet hurt and I'm really craving some ice cream."

Azriel grinned, shaking his head as he watched you walk away. His shadows trailed after you, except for one that lingered behind, wrapping around his hand as he reached for the packing tape.

He looked down at the shadow, a smile tugging at his lips as its gentle, calm movement. "Alright,” he murmured, “Let's finish this up and get our girl some ice cream.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen

azriel tag list: @thisiskaylin @serrendiipty

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ make this drive last ‘til the end of this song | fushiguro megumi

wc: 1.2k

summary: you wish this traffic jam would last a bit longer. 

contains: f!reader in mind, college!megumi, pre-relationship stuff! mostly centered around having a crush!, yuuji and nobara are here!

a/n: i think megumi loves to listen to music!! stargazing by the neighbourhood reminds me of him, and the song that inspired this is pretty by col3trane & mahalia! (reminds me so much of him too)!! may or not be inspired by very personal feelings/thoughts!!; for mi luv @soumies

part: 1 | 2 | 3 series m.list: by your passenger seat

It’s always just you and Megumi on the drive back home. 

For the last stretch of it, at least.

You like to think you’re friends, being in the same friend circle for the good part of the year. And if there’s anything you’ve learned from your crazy group of four, it’s that Megumi always ends up being the designated driver for everything—road trips, lunch breaks, late night food runs, and parties. Especially parties. 

Someone has to stay sober when Yuuji’s always too eager to drink anything that’s handed to him. 

You also live nearest to Megumi (coincidentally), just a few streets down from the building that houses his unit. This means you’re always picked up first and dropped off last, consequently making his passenger seat yours (indefinitely). 

The seat is practically adjusted to you by now, backrest pulled back a bit and the seat itself brought forward slightly. Because you get cold easily, the air vents on your side are always pushed up, allowing only a small slip of air to flow through. 

You notice that it never changes—all these adjustments, so it’s either people don’t mind or maybe no one else has been sitting there after all. 

(You don’t know how to feel when a part of you, maybe just a teensy, tiny bit, hopes it’s the latter). 

As tough as it is to get through the impossibly high and extremely fortified walls one (1) Fushiguro Megumi has set around himself, you think you’ve found your way in, slipping yourself into the space between his passenger door and sitting right beside him on the extremely well-kept leather of his carseat. 

(He’s particular when it comes to cleaning). 

It was awkward at first. Of course, it was. When two introverts are alone in a car for a 30-minute drive back from a college party, they aren’t bound to become immediate best friends. But you try to talk a little, ask a harmless question or two, comment on the music he plays—the safe things to say.

And you get closer that way. 

Megumi doesn’t clear his throat anymore when it gets too quiet, already used to the comfortable silence between you. You give each other small updates on what you both did earlier that day, and what you plan to do the next, for the weekend, and the following week, even. And you try hard not to think about it too much, but when he throws a little laugh your way when you talk about the haircut you did yourself in seventh grade, you think you feel an extra thump against your ribcage. 

Another thing you learn is that Megumi loves music; there’s always some obscure, low-beat song that he’s tapping to when you get in. You discover more of his taste through the playlists he plays, and you like it—

(—maybe him a little bit more than the music, though). 

.

The traffic is unmoving today, endless red dots flashing along every lane for the past 40-minutes you’ve been on this road—there’s a steady patter of rain on the windshield, wipers automatically going back and forth as he gives you full control of the music. 

You’d just dropped off Yuuji when you took a detour to avoid some flooded area, and now you’re stuck in a terrible traffic jam this late at night, with cars barely moving inch-by-inch a few minutes at a time. Megumi doesn’t give any indication that he’s bothered except for the slight sigh he makes when he leans back on his seat after pulling up the handbrake.

And you think, with your music playing over the comfortable silence you’ve built, being in his passenger seat one too many times—this feels nice. 

Any other day and you’d hate traffic as much as the next person, but not right now. 

There’s movement far ahead and Megumi prepares to shift gears, accelerating the car only to stop again after a few minutes of getting far. You look over to find him tapping on the steering wheel, one hand on his thigh, relaxed as red glows on his face from the stoplight. 

You feel calm, content even, if you’re really thinking. Now you know why some people have a thing for night drives in the rain. 

Megumi’s eyelashes are long, pretty, stretching on for miles—and you wonder if this drive with him can extend to the length of them, if you can stay in this traffic jam a little longer just to be in this moment with him. 

“Sorry, are you cold?” Megumi asks, interrupting your stare.

He probably thinks that’s the reason you’re staring, if his fingers hovering over the aircondition controls says anything. Heat rises to your cheeks. 

You shake your head, “No, it’s okay. Just spaced out, sorry.” 

“I have a sweater at the back, if you need.” he motions, arm already out reaching for it. 

It’s summer right now, that’s why you insisted on keeping the AC on full blast; you don’t want him to suffer from the heat just because you’re cold. So you’re a bit curious, because really, Megumi has no reason to keep a sweater in his car for this weather, heck, he didn’t even wear one to the party tonight.

You don’t want to assume anything but—

“Brought it for when you get cold,” 

He says it plainly, so casually as if he doesn’t know that it echoes in the pitter-patter of your heartbeat. If you’re being completely rational, it probably doesn’t mean anything, but he hands you the gray sweater over the console so simply as if to say: of course, this is for you, who else would I bring it for? 

As if you shouldn’t even wonder anymore. 

The gesture endears you so much you can’t help but take it. 

“Thanks,” you smile sheepishly, and he nods, the corners of his lips curling slightly as he looks back to the road. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt to put the sweater on, and think, this is a very bad idea because all you smell now is his detergent, that fresh, clean scent that he walks around with condensed into oversized cotton—oversized cotton that is now engulfing you completely. 

You sigh, buckling your seatbelt again as the car moves forward. 

The traffic is clearing up now, Megumi making fewer stops as he drives along the main road. You give it maybe 8? 7? minutes until you arrive home. You’re proud of yourself tonight, flutter-feelings aside, because you think you picked the perfect music for the drive. 

Megumi can never hide his distate for anything—songs included; when he doesn’t like something, he squints his right eye just a little bit, an involuntary reaction you think. You’ve caught it a few times before (usually when it’s Yuuji’s music playing), but his face has been relaxed this entire night, fingers tapping to whatever tune you put on. 

When you arrive in front of your apartment building, your playlist shuffles to your favorite song. Megumi knows because you never shut up about it, asking for it to be played every single time on the drive back home. And when he turns to you, you look almost sad, fixing your things as you prepare to get off. There’s that cute, small pout that he notices you always try to hide when you want to say something but don’t. 

So as you’re about to unbuckle your seatbelt, Megumi shifts the gear to drive and says—

“Maybe after this song.”

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[lynndoublelegacy]

“I am no warrior. And I will not be Lost.”

Uhhhh anyway I am going insane over @loudclan-clangen and the newest update??? I’ve been following this story for uh. A while now I think. But after the latest update and the Everything that Wildfirecry got up to I was smacked VERY HARD with the visual of him ending up with an apron of blood instead of his usual apron of oil. Aaaand here we are.

Love how I managed to make clangen fanart before an actual moon of my own clangen story. adhd be like that. (If you like my artstyle and want to see what I do when I get up to it it’s @as-the-raven-cries-wolf bc RavenClan as a blog name was taken lol)

Some alternate versions below the cut! Hope you enjoy!

The first one was supposed to be a discord-friendly version bc discord gets fussy when I use too much detail, the second one is me drawing out his oil apron before I turned it into a blood one. It was really interesting trying to translate D’s style and design sensibilities nicely into the way I draw cats, the tufting and more squared-off jaw especially, but it was really fun, picking and choosing what and how to translate, and some things to just keep the same (like the eyes, with a little thematic twist).

Thanks for reading 💙

[bloggerspam]

THIS MASTERPOST WILL NO LONGER BE UPDATED

Please go to my new sideblog, @ficcerspam for an updated list, and for new things from here on out!

Danny Phantom Masterlist

I realized I've accidentally become a Danny Phantom fic writer and I don't know what to do with this information...other than make a masterlist, i guess.

I add on parts via reblog, so I will put the lastest date when i update the link in MM.DD.YY format! (*) denotes completion, for now. Extras (ie. ** or ***) denotes bonus updates I hadn't planned on!

============================================

Magician!Danny AU - 9.27.23*

Danny learns sleight of hand and goes through Hijinks and Shenanigans. There are some DC offshoots where Zatanna is involved, with some inevitable angst from another user.

In the Interest of Medical Attention Addition - 10.02.23*

DCxDP - Red Hood goes missing. Danny, an eldritch horror tourist, just wants to be helpful. These two things are, unfortunately, related.

De-Aged Danny Angst Addition - 10.06.23*

DCxDP - Danny, having been capture and experimented on, gets de-aged with memory loss and some...physical complications. One of the Bats finds him. Dad!Dick Grayson implied.

Booo-merang Trouble Addition - 10.10.23

DCxDP - Jason gives off an ecto-signature, and tries to find a runaway/hiding/injured Danny in Gotham.

Baby Danny vs. The Joker Additions - 10.16.23*

DCxDP - De-aged Danny in a bat onesie wreaking havoc on the Joker for Funsies, and sort of getting adopted by Jason. There are a plethora of other reblogs that aren't included in the link, but this is where I've mentally stopped the AU at (personally). Highly recommend going through them for the fanart!

Candy Crush AU Additions - 10.31.23*

DCxDP - Additions written for @long-live-astronerd-ghost-king's Candy Crush AU. Dead on Main. LOTS of other reblogs that aren't included in the link, but this is where I've mentally stopped the AU at (personally).

Luck Rush AU Additions - 12.02.23*

DCxDP - Additions written for @virgamsysxvolumes's Lucky Rush AU. Please go read it, it's so good!!! I've also designed some stuff for this AU, but Vivi has released some official art for the AU in the masterlist too!

Phantom Siblings and the Batfam - 12.05.23*

DCxDP - Prompt fill: Danny and Ellie are de aged. Dan and Jazz are co-parenting as the older siblings. Completely unrelated, half the batfam are flirting independently at Jazz/Dan, and the other half are dealing with the chaos gremlins.

Super Strength Shenanigans - 12.10.23* [AO3]

DCxDP - When Danny gets an internship in Gotham, concerned for his and his identity's safety they figure out he has super strength he can't control for human-standard fights. Shenanigans ensue.

Horror Movie Child!Danny AU - 12.18.23* [AO3]

DCxDP - Danny is adopted into the batfam having a coming of age movie, whilst the Batfam are going through Summer Horror Special.

Puppy!Danny AU - 12.28.23* [AO3]

DCxDP - Danny is Ace the Bathound AU! With Bonus Dan as Titus, Dani as Haley/Bitewing, and Jazz as Sparky and Dog. There have been multiple tags for this, so please be warned you WILL cry at part 3. Now with meme post. Any additional non-story posts will be under "phantom pups" tag!

Villain!Jazz AU - 04.07.23* [AO3]

**Disclaimer, NOT Jazz centered and heavily DP leaning** After lots of thought this AU will be exclusively updated on AO3 from now on! Please subscribe to it on AO3 instead of following it here :)

He’s fine… right..? - 02.05.24** [AO3]

Two-shot psychological horror based off some fanart of Danny crying melty tears.

Casseroles and Confrontations Additions- 03.10.24

DCxDP - Batman sends a few of the Batfam to Amity Park to investigate the ghost sightings. When they get there, however, Jason refuses to step into the town due to some instinctual feeling he has. Check "#casseroles and confrontations" tag for non-story lore!

NOW WITH AMAZING FANART by @animal-123-crazy

MORE CUTE FANART by @jamiethebee

Kon-El and the Phantoms - 02.07.24

YJxDP - Young Justice, specifically Kon-El, meets their newest member, Phantom's clone. Who just so happens to be a big fan.

Mama Canary AU - 06.19.24 [AO3]

JLxDP - Suddenly de-aged Danny meet Black Canary and accidentally ghost-wails at her...except all it does is push her back a couple feet, and make her think he's the cutest lil' canary in the world. Eventual Dead On Main.

Preschool Teacher Danny AU - 02.18.24* [AO3}

JLxDP - Clark comes across a meta-teacher with a class of seemingly meta toddlers. He asks if there's any room for Jon. Not sure if I will continue on Tumblr or continue on AO3, or both. Will update when I decide--this will probably be mostly ongoing as Naynay gives me more stories of her gremlins!

Sunshine and Stardust - 02.16.24 [AO3]

YJxDP - Danny is a clone of Superman AU, but he's a failure, a test dummy. Amidst the days of pain and experimentation, he hears another clone is being made.

Teen Titans and the Lost Boy Addition - 05.17.24

TTxDP - "After being on the run for a long time, Danny somehow stumbles his way into the middle of a fight. This leads to him joining the Teen Titans (much to his confusion)."

Thoughts about Death - 03.27.24*

"Do you ever think about how sacred life must be for Danny?" Oneshot.

Grunkle John AU - 06.24.24* [AO3]

JLxDP - Batman finds out that John Constantine is basically Danny Phantom(high level threat, ghost king)'s weird uncle. I tell you the story of how that came to be.

Not so Little Merperson - 05.02.24*

YJ/JLxDP - Superboy gets Prince Eric'd by Space Whale Danny, and all Kon wants to do is find the smoking hot not-so-little-merperson that saved him. If he has to pester Aquaman for it, so be it. Oneshot.

Estranged Brothers Dick and Danny Addition - 05.06.24*

DCxDP - Mr. Haley summons Danny to act in the circus, not expecting the Grayson's to take such a shine to him. The Grayson's die and Dick is adopted by Bruce, but Danny has to stay... Oneshot.

Baby's First Kidnapping - 06.09.24*

DCxDP - Jazz gets kidnapped by cultists who want to summon the Ghost King. The Bats are confused af when Jazz laughs in the cultists' faces. Oneshot

Phic Phight 2024 Phics:

Forgotten Fire: A little bit on who Ember McLain was, when she was alive. Complete.

Open Secrets: Everyone knows AU. (except, Danny doesn't know they know). Complete.

In Front of My Cereal? Crackfic for the prompt: Danny shuddered. The old man yaoi energy at that table was insufferable. Complete.

[notscarsafe]

OKAY SO what with the TWO new Hermits implied by the updated banner I will say that, though the Skizz truthers have me convinced, I now have room to do my own crazy red string monologue and throw my hat in for my choice

1) Mythical J. Sausage (the J is silent) is a multitalented S-tier builder that absolutely deserves to be shoulder to shoulder with the Hermits. The man does buildings, interiors, terraforming, custom trees, and he does them SO WELL.

2) The production values!!! Beautiful replay mod sequences with shifting camera perspectives, shaders, music that sets the tone for each segment that's different from series to series. He already has more than a million followers on YouTube and for good reason!!

3) He has been SO consistent lately. He started a hardcore world about three months ago (about the time you might expect the Hermits to finalize their s10 choices maybe...???) and already has 15 episodes and hasn't gotten involved in any other big content. (He did just start playing a little of the BCG server but from what I understand that's super casual /copium copium copium).

4) That hardcore world is conveniently about to reach a good "pause" point. He started his world on a cherry blossom biome island that he's filled with a medieval village and starter farms, he's said it's almost full and what's left is the castle. I'm guessing the new season will start the first week of February, so if Sausage puts out a video this week building out that Castle and finishing that island it will be MIGHTY CONVENIENT TIMING.

5) This man can GRIND. His Hardcore world hasn't even been going half a year and he's built... So much??? Magnificent! And when he was on the Hermitcraft server he did the Razorcrest for scar AND the player head baby yoda/stormtrooper merch AND the noteblock themesong AND still built in the xmas village and other "diamond of peace" and so many other shenanigans. Did the man even sleep? He can grind with the best of them.

6) He can do redstone, too! Maybe not unique designs, I honestly don't know, but he builds farms for build materials no problem.

7) The DRAMA this man loves his improv and his backstory and trauma lore! For every series he does! Can you imagine if he gets to interact with Ren for an extended period of time, what that would do to them, to us?? Give Martyn a run for his money!!

8) Which brings me to my next point, which is that Sausage is already One of The Gang, because he's been in series with so many of the Hermits already! Empires and the crossover, obviously, but also Pirates with Cleo and Origins with Scar, and he's even done MCC! Joel is the only other player with the same depth of different series but there are other people truthing him already.

9) The EPIC BROMANCE with Pearl. My god the devotion of this man to his sunflower goddess bestie. I would try to do ot justice but y'all have seen floweroflaurelins work, you already know.

10) He's already a PG streamer but with HILARIOUSLY PG-13 tendencies. Imagine him and Cleo cracking each other up at an HHH stream, *grips your shoulders* IMAGINE IT.

11) Sausage comes with his own mascot in the form of interdimensional dog extraordinaire Bubbles, but he's also just an animal lover on general. Mans drinks his "I love Jellie" juice and had her in his world even before the sad news of her loss.

12) Diversity win! No one should be hired just for their gender, race, sexuality etc etc unless it's truly necessary to the job, but we were all happy when more women got added to the server in s8 and I know a lot of people would be happy to see some ethnic diversity added, too.

... That bulletin board had a lot more pins in it than I thought it did but anyway MYTHICALSAUSAGE TRUTHERS/ALL OTHER TRUTHERS RISE UP SPEAK YOUR TRUTH! we'll only get to wildly speculate for a few weeks so we might as well make it everyone else's problem ENJOY IT TO THE FULLEST!!

[seat-safety-switch]

"Get in the fucking car, loser. My name is Detective Tina Clownhater, I came from Upper Precinct, and we're going to the fucking circus. One of the clowns was found dead in among about 72 others stuffed into a tiny car, and we think it's Japanese."

"The car?"

"The clown."

I'd heard of Detective Clownhater before. Read some of her reports when they came around the inter-office mail. Circus division. She also did carnivals, which people think is the same thing, but really it isn't. As we rode in silence to the Carny District, I decided I wasn't going to like her. Mostly, it was because she still clung to an outmoded, indulgent, and inefficient mode of transportation known as the 2003 detective-issue Crown Victoria. My own City II Turbo would have been a much more enjoyable ride, but I didn't want to press the issue. Chief was already getting on my case about racking up the mileage per diem anyway.

Maybe I should introduce myself, too. My name is Archibald Shitpope, and I'm a detective for the city police. Every detective here specializes in something – they figured it was more efficient than having us all fight over the same books in detective school – and for me, my passion carried me to Japanese-made economy cars. You'd be surprised how often they crop up in my cases. This was going to be a bit outside of my remit, being a Japanese-made economy clown, but I'm a professional. I'd do the job.

I regretted that promise as soon as we stepped onto the crime scene. Besides the copious amount of blood and viscera thrown about the scene ("explosive decompression," explained Todd the CSI, in between Instagram updates of the most grotesque parts,) the clowns had been stuffed into a Fiat. An Italian-made shitbox. It's amazing they weren't burned alive. From what we could tell from interviews, the clown used to be Takenobu Unchipiero, a famous clown actor in his home country. Top of the industry, I was assured. After a series of gambling scandals, he was forced to retreat to North America, where our standards for clowns are much lower.

I was about to ask Detective Clownhater to buy some business-class tickets to Tokyo so we could "chase up some leads" – I wanted to buy an S660 while the auction market was still soft – but the amount of boiling rage behind her eyes indicated to me that she had already assumed I was going to do that. Instead, I returned to my work of checking the crime scene and interviewing witnesses, only intermittently pausing to take a look at the latest wheels posted to Up Garage's terrible website.

That's when Todd cracked it for us. While mopping up what was left of poor Takenobu, an artificial heart fell out. I couldn't help but notice its unique design: a triangular pump that spun eccentrically in a housing. A rotary engine, in other words. No normal person would have such a heart. Mr. Unchipiero was up to his neck in debt with the Wankel Mafia.

[makeyoumine69]

A little bit possessive

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x fem!Reader

CW: Smut, Daddy kink, pregnancy/breeding kink, unprotected vaginal sex, prone bone, power play, dirty talk, pet names, obsessive behavior, implied overstimulation.

A/N: Hello everyone, just wanted to drop this little drabble, seems like Daddy Kink is taking over me once again as I have been listening to too many of Lana's songs lately, especially THIS edit hits hard. Also, I want to thank everyone who still reads me, I'm struggling with several writing projects, but I hope such little drabbles can bring you some joy! Sending my love and hugs!💕

"Tell me," Bateman murmured, his voice low and commanding as he pushed just the tip inside you. "What exactly do you think you're going to do, hmm? Walk away? Find another man to play Daddy?" He thrust forward, filling you in one brutal motion, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh. "You're mine," Patrick growled through clenched teeth, his pace rough and relentless as he fucked you. "You're not going anywhere." He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips jerked forward, his cock slamming into your soaking slit. "And this baby? It's mine too. You won't find anyone else who can give you what I can." Patrick's hand moved to your throat, his grip tight as he thrust harder, pushing your body into the mattress with each movement. "You'll thank me," he sneered, diving deeper, reveling in the intoxicating sensation of your warmth. "You'll beg me to stay."

"No!" You blurted out, grabbing his hand that was painfully squeezing your neck. "It… it's not true!"

"Go ahead," he snapped darkly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me you don't need me. I dare you." Patrick's cock drove deep into you again, hard enough to make the headboard hit the wall. "Because the truth is… you can't fucking live without me." The man thrust harder, every move designed to make you understand exactly what he meant. "This is your life now, honey. With me. Only me." Bateman grinned, his breath hot against your skin. "And you're going to love every fucking second of it."

Sobbing, you tried to kick him off you and roll over, but Patrick was too strong, much stronger than you, there was not even a chance to fight him. "It hurts!" you squealed and closed your eyes, your legs already shaking. "I… I can't take it… anymore…"

Inflamed, Bateman pinned you to the mattress and then, in one swift motion, flipped you over so that you lay flat on your stomach. Whimpering and trembling, you struggled to crawl away from him, but the next thing you knew, Patrick was covering you from above, weighing you down and placing a pillow under your pubic bone before ramming into your sore, creamy cunt once more.

"Beg me to stop," the man taunted, thrusting harder, faster. "Beg me and maybe I'll think about it." His hand tightened around your shoulders as his other hand grabbed your ass, pulling you even closer as he pounded into you, ignoring your cries, your pleas for mercy.

"Enough…p-please!" You turned to look at him, but he just pushed your face into the pillow. "Mhmm…it's too deep!"

Bateman could feel his orgasm building, but he didn't stop, didn't slow down. He's not done yet. Not until you fully understood who owned you. Not until you were completely broken.

"You will never leave me," Patrick whispered, his voice raspy and full of conviction. "You belong to me now. And there's nothing you can do about it."

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!