#i don't think it's darker than canon

[turtles-allthewaydown]

The regret that crosses Husk's feline face is so clear that Angel can feel it himself, that sucking pit in his stomach the same as when he thinks about his golden contract with Valentino. Husk isn't even looking at him now, lost in his own memories. "So I know what it's like to regret the choices made and… knowing you can't take it back."

It's not the same, Husk was a powerful overlord who made a deal to save his power. Anthony was just some junkie who made his deal because- because… Angel Dust isn't very smart, is the thing. The deal he made — who he made it with — why he made it — proves that.

So it's not the same, Husk's deal and Angel's. But maybe… maybe there's something similar there. Gambling, drugs, love — addictions. Regret.

---

Chapter 4 of Late Night Devil (Put Your Hands On Me) is on AO3. Featuring Husk throwing a dude across a bar, how Niffty died, more emotional support Fat Nuggets, and "What a gentleman," Angel says, then tips forward and vomits on his shoes. Researching this fic I found out angel dust is actually a painkiller and made myself sad with Implications.

Chapter CW: drug and alcohol abuse, addiction and recovery, canon attempted non-consensual drug use (drugged drink), extremely brief mention of attempted suicide, mention of overdose, panic attack, dissociation

[maulfucker]

Ok so. This is less concrete thoughts and more scattered ideas but.

Dathomirian Zabrak biology speculations/thoughts!

While at first glance it looks like males are the only ones who have different skin colors and the females are all pale, we do see at least one Nightsister with darker skin (the one whose facial markings are white and resemble a skull), meaning skin pigmentation is present in both but manifests differently in males vs females!

(This is much like birds where the females are the neutral-colored ones while the males have more vibrant colorations and are expected to impress the females to be picked as a mate)

And it's very curious to me that iridonians have very human-like skin tones, while dathomirians ended up having two extremes, either having very vibrant skin ranging from yellow to red, or very pale skin ranging from white to dark gray, both outside the human (and iridonian) range

I think if a transgender dathomirian had HRT their skin color would gradually change with it (much like how birds can change coloration depending on their hormones)

The fact that males have no hair and females have no horns seems very random to me and I will not be thinking about the hair thing but I will say:

Have you looked at Mother Talzin's head shape. Have you seen how strangely tall it looks. What if. What if females "lack" horns because instead of growing at just a few specific points their entire skulls grow and elongate over their lifetimes.

This makes sense if you consider that they live in a "dense jungle" type environment where things (fruits, branches, predators..) can fall on their heads all the time. Having a thicker skull would probably help avoid a cracked skull from constantly getting hit in the head by falling stuff

(No idea what about the hair thing though. Maybe it's something to do with gene interactions. Like whatever gene makes their skin so saturated also deactivates the "have hair" genes. or maybe nightsisters are all wearing wigs and none of them actually grow hair)

Speaking of the geography of the planet, I think it's pretty sad that we never really get a good look of what the Nightbrothers' region looks like outside the village and some mountain terrain around it. Is it more sunny than the Nightsisters' side and that's why their skin adapted to have more color while the females' adapted to lose color? Or is it a seasonal thing and we just never got to see another season in the shows? Or is the village just built in a place that's so high the mist doesn't reach it? We get the sense that it's cold, at least at night, so why are they dressed in such light clothes? In fact, is it hot where the Nightsisters live, or is the entire species more adapted to colder temperatures and that's why they all wear so little?

What would happen if you crossed a dathomirian zabrak with a species that also has non-human skin tones but not linked to sexual dimorphism. Like what if you had a pantoran-zabrak cross, since pantorans are on the opposite side of the color wheel. Do you think they'd be an extremely vibrant blue or yellow-orange-red, or a middle ground, like green? Or perhaps an extreme outside both species' range, like purple? Do you think the "no saturation" gene would take over and make them gray no matter the gender?

[rubberduckyrye]

I just looked in the Gonta tag and saw someone making a post about how if they see people white washing characters of color they're going to go feral--which is so fair. Valid of them really.

Except. Gonta is on that list.

Gonta.

You know, the "primitive wild man who is treated like a fucking idiot/toddler by the rest of the cast and even worse so by the fandom"? You know, Gonta, the character everyone treats like he's ignorant and can't have Complicated Thoughts Ever? Gonta, the character who has a wild child backstory, wears a loin cloth for underwear, ectect. You know. That Gonta?

Okay like. You see why this is fucking racist. You see why this is racist, right? Gonta is like, sun kissed tan at max. He is not "dark skinned" and to be frank if he was we'd have to add on fucking extreme forms of racism to the bigotry of not just the writing, but to the fandom as well.

Anyway.

[goldpilot22]

fun fact: before jen was a normalcore middle-ager trying desperately to avoid fate and in so doing only ensuring it would reach them sooner, they were a lil bastard ass

[wyrmwinds]

Tbh every time I fantasia Ava, I end up slightly darkening her skintone. Reverse Y'shtola. Every time they lighten her I darken Ava by two shades.

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [3] | Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: MDNI 18+!! smut, angst!!!!!!, unedited, infidelity, revenge cheating, oral (m receiving), kinda slightttt dub con if you squint w/ Aegon x reader, Aemond is frustrating, so is reader tbh, slight deviation from canon? again, if you squint, soft!aemond if you also squint. But also---angry Aemond (rahhhhhh), tell me if I've missed any warnings!

Author's note: my APOLOGIES on the wait, y'all. Hopefully this scratches an itch!! it's 11PM here, which is the earliest I've ever posted a fic funnily enough. I also reallyyyyy appreciate the love on this series so far!!! Love you all. As always, please don't hesitate to comment or to interact or hmu in my inbox w/ me bc I LOVE yapping with you guys. Send in feedback or criticism (but like I'll cry if it's super mean) or some headcannons!! or even your best dad joke. Anyways, xoxo kisses!!! <3

Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen was an intelligent man. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been acting as the realm’s largest imbecile. 

Time and time again, Aemond had let his ego and his pride run ahead of his brain, and had failed to think of the effect that his actions had on people other than himself. Sure, he cared for those who were important to him. His sister, his mother, his grandfather, Ser Cole, Aegon (although Aemond may not have realised it) and even to some extent his wife. 

He realised, perhaps too late, that you may as well be a stranger to him. And at one point, Aemond had truly believed that keeping whatever unlucky woman he was to wed at arms length would be for the best. 

The first time he met you was insignificant. It was as per tradition and formality. Aemond’s interactions up until the wedding was mainly with your family, despite the efforts you made to acquaint yourself with him properly. You were much more timid then, shyer than Aemond had expected from the to-be wife of a weaponised prince. But then again, he had only assumed that a Lady like his mother would have been chosen for him; confident, cunning and strong-headed. 

At the time he had begun to understand you better, Aemond had lost track of himself. A sort of descent into darkness where he went from a young prince to a man, eager to prove himself at whatever cost. Satisfied by the control he gained through fear, strength and reputation. Now that he had stopped to think about his marriage, after you had left him hard and desperate in his own bed, Aemond came to realise a few things. 

You were a purity among the wickedness and politics of the Red Keep. An inherently good person and a woman of grace, kindness and compassion. He had already noticed the dwindling of those traits brought on by your new life, confined to the walls of a fortress that was littered with deceit, distrust and gore. Aemond was a far darker entity than you–he had accepted this fact after the first true conversation you shared. 

Corrupting you was both tempting and terrifying. Aemond had always been loveless–deprived of the affection he craved and deserved but also clueless about how to give that affection. And while he wished he could learn how to right himself and how to quell the carelessness of his temperament and the destruction that was left in its wake, Aemond didn’t know how to. 

Perhaps it would come naturally. He was a lot more open to that notion now, despite the fact that most of him was convinced he was incapable of such change. 

Aemond regretted–something he didn’t feel often–how he had pushed you away. Even if he had not intended to. 

Because now, he was starting to see you as you were. A woman who had far more of an influence over his emotions than he realised–a woman who he had begun to crave the affections of in such an intensity that it only served to scare him away from you. At one stage, you had been another stranger among the walls of his home bound to him in nothing but title but, at some point throughout this ridiculous game that he had stupidly encouraged, Aemond had started to see you as his wife. 

The whore that he had let into his bed was not actually a whore. It was a woman Aemond had known–a witch whom he had shared the pleasures of his body with before the two of you had wed. Alys was always eager for him and once, he would have returned it with his own enthusiasm. Not anymore. She was simply an easier option. A whore would never sully the sanctity of his chambers. It wouldn’t have made a difference if he had been honest and told you that Alys was not from the Street of Silk. 

To anyone who came asking, including you, Aemond would first admit to taking a whore into his bed than a lowly witch.

He cursed himself for letting his honour fall so short that this is what it took for him to wake up. For him to have tainted his loyalty to you, to have let a woman whom he could barely get it up for shatter the confines of his marriage, for him to have been left unwound with a hard cock, his hand and only the scent of you on his thigh to release the tension that was driving him mad. 

Aemond wished he hadn’t been so short sighted. He would subject himself to whatever punishment he deserved should it be the burn of a whip against his back or the sickening ache of starvation if you were to demand it. 

All of a sudden, in the days that had passed since your encounter on his bed, Aemond found himself looking for you throughout his day. He hoped you’d cross each other in the halls, cursed the world for keeping him too busy to spend an afternoon with you in the gardens, sworn at the war that was raging for binding him to his duties and keeping you apart. 

So at the first opportunity he had to take time for himself and for the first time in your short marriage, Aemond had called upon you to join him for afternoon tea.You stared at the young servant who had been sent to retrieve you, half wondering if you had heard the boy incorrectly. Had he called you simply one moon ago, you would have dropped everything you were doing to meet your husband for tea with a grin and a skip in your step at the prospect of finally spending time with him on his own accord. 

But now? It both excited you and infuriated you. 

You gave the boy a soft smile, holding your reserve together when his face dropped at your refusal. “You may tell my husband that I am otherwise attended to for my tea.”

It wasn’t a lie. You had important plans for the afternoon with the other Targaryen son. 

The servant stood still for a moment. “Yes, my Lady.”

“The rest of my afternoon is already engaged with the King,” you purposefully added, a mixture of adrenaline and excitement beginning to simmer in your belly. “Tell him I will take tea with him another time.”

You were walking away from your chambers before the servant had turned to leave. A part of you felt bad for him. Anyone would be wary of delivering rejection to a prince. It felt as if you were sending him to his death in a way, knowing that the seemingly innocent excuse was balancing on a wire that was already frayed. If the young servant had known of your sly plan for revenge, he would have spoiled his breeches. 

There was a chance Aemond would catch on straight away. There was a chance that he would take a little longer. 

Either way, so long as he caught on, everything would unfold in your favor.

Aegon had been waiting for you, a mischievous smile on his lips at the sight of you eagerly rushing towards him. He was an immature and distracted King, and he was definitely not without his flaws, but he had never been bad to you. Sometimes, you even appreciated Aegon’s efforts to involve you in conversation or to pull a smile out of you when you had clearly been distressed. Nonetheless, he was still an infuriating cad and you had often considered giving in to violent urges at the way he treated Helaena. 

Helaena. 

A stab of guilt in your gut at the thought of her. Sure, she had confided in you on numerous occasions and you knew she felt little care for Aegon’s outwards ventures with women but you knew she was saddened by the state of her marriage. And here you were, as wretched as the whore that Aemond had bedded. It was no different; you were doing the same thing as her. Only it wasn’t your job; you weren’t doing it for the money. 

The satisfaction of bringing Aemond down to the same level he had brought you to was all the motivation you needed. It would be treading a thin line but it would be worth it. 

“I had wondered how long it would take you to find yourself in my chambers, Princess,” Aegon’s voice held that boyish shrill he had never grown out of. The way he had stepped aside to let you pass, eyes holding yours through his lashes as he dipped his head with a grin. “For a cup of tea, of course.”

Comparing Aegon’s chambers to Aemond’s was instinctual. It was brighter here, messier and there was an unkempt feel to the furniture despite the servant’s having kept things relatively put together. A King’s chambers, it was; grand and large and adorned with all sorts of artistry. Aemond’s chambers had held a darker tone; presumably because Aemond was sensitive to light on his blind eye and somehow even the glow of light from the lamps were deeper and warmer. 

You liked Aemond’s chambers better. 

“It has been overdue, Your Grace,” you weren’t sure of that. “Thank you for indulging me this afternoon. I wager a King such as yourself is no short of duties to tend to.” 

Aegon scoffed, pouring himself a cup of wine as he watched you take a seat at the small settee from the corner of his eye. “My family seems to be taking care of my duties on my behalf. I am a king in nought but title, you see.”

There was nothing you could say at his unbridled honesty. Aegon was different to most of the people who presided here in that way. He cared little to hide behind a facade of false indifference and stoicism. 

He fell to the cushion beside you, close enough so you could smell the drink he balanced in his hand. Aegon laid back lazily, resting on his elbows and watching you as you sat pin-straight and brought the piping tea to your lips. “‘Tis not a concern. I would much prefer to have more comely company than those clueless cunts who sit on my counsel.”

“I do not doubt that, Your Grace,” you coughed lightly, growing alarmingly aware of the fact that you hadn’t thought about how this was going to play out. There was absolutely nothing that you knew about seducing a king. No less, a king with Aegon’s track record. “I beli-”

“You have been different,” He cut you off. Swiftly pushing himself up so that his face was beside yours, breath tickling the strands of your hair that had fallen loose across your cheek. Aegon’s lips were gently turned up as his eyes traced every curve of your face. 

Swallowing thickly, you will yourself to meet his eye with confidence. The curiosity in his familiar violet eyes was paired with an immature lust and you wondered if he had any idea how easy it could be to use his forward thinking cock against him were you a woman of cunning ambitions. You didn’t miss how his gaze flickered across your throat and towards the curve of your chest. 

But something in the way that Aegon looked at you in that moment, like you were a woman of such beauty that he would risk whatever consequences were sent his way just to feel your touch sent a slither of saddened longing across your chest. Not even your husband had made you feel as if you were so captivating. 

It made the knowledge of how ever long you’d be alone with him far easier to stomach.

“I do not know of what you mean, Your Grace.”

Aegon laughed, bringing his face so close to yours that the point of his nose touched against your cheek. His hand fell to rest flat just above your belly, brazenly close to where your dress tucked underneath the curve of your breasts. 

“I know well when a Lady is not…” he dragged his nose across your soft skin, eyes carefully watching your reaction. “Sufficiently satisfied by her husband.”

Your breath hitched at how quickly Aegon had set his target. “If you mean to-”

“Does my dear brother forego his duties for the comfort of whores, perhaps?”

Pursing your lips, you gently turned your face so that your lips were centimetres away from his, Aegon’s fringe brushing across your forehead. There was a ringing in your ears, a nervousness about how you were so close to betraying your husband and how you were unsure that you could handle the fallout of what was definitely about to happen. Things are much different for women; infidelity and adultery would be grounds for far worse than simply an annulment. This world was not so kind to a lady who partakes in the same treachery as a lord.

Above all, you were conflicted.

“It seems my husband is no different to any other man who does not hunger for his wife.”

“I hunger for his wife,” Aegon all but moaned at the way your lips nudged closer to his. He cocked his head to the side and pressed his fingers into your flesh. “But I am no fool, my Lady. Aemond has always been the sole object of your gaze. You are here for more sinister reasons, I suspect.”

You blinked. Why did these Targaryen princes so often seem to be one step ahead?

It was a relief that he had not moved away from your closeness. In fact, Aegon leaned further into it. His smile never faltered and he waited patiently for you, watching as you thought of your next moves. There was a flush of embarrassment that prettied your skin and it was clear that your facade was close to crumbling. Aegon was not a man you desired in such a way. Merely a means to an end. 

So you sighed, resigning to the fact that being honest with Aegon would be best. 

“You are right,” you muttered. He shook with a silent laugh at your bravery and the way your chin remained turned up. “I-I believe you are aware of my intentions, Your Grace. Will you have me dragged back to Prince Aemond’s feet or will you allow my scheme?”

Aegon was in front of you in a matter of seconds, bending down so that he met your height as you stayed seated. “I would risk meeting the wrath of a man whose temperament and pride are unchained.”

“Teach me how to make it worth it then, my King,” you held strong in forcing the tremble out of your voice. You didn’t want to bed him entirely–absolutely not. Just what you had seen through the gap in Aemond’s door would be more than enough and there was a bubbling gratification in your stomach knowing that Aemond would not be able handle what he had so easily served out. 

His hand held the back of your neck and he jerked forward to catch your lips, grunting when you turned your head from him. You couldn’t kiss him. You weren’t interested in kissing him–only fulfilling the steady thrum of excitement at the need to both experience what you had been teased with and show your husband that he should be sorry. 

In fact, and you were loathsome to even rationalise it, you felt sick at the thought of kissing him. And you felt a little drop in your gut at the thought of taking him in any kind of way but it was different. Less frightening than kissing a man you were trying so hard to convince yourself was sexy enough.

There was no man for your body’s desires aside from Aemond Targaryen-–

A deep breath and you looked at Aegon through your lashes, bringing your fingers to feel the softness of his lips. “I do not want you to fuck me, Your Grace. But show me how I may give you pleasure with my mouth. And how a man can satisfy me with his.”

Aegon became excited at your use of such foul language, his hand remaining behind your neck as he straightened and guided you roughly to his hips, groaning as your hands instinctively found his thighs and moved upwards. He was painfully hard in his breeches–he had been since the first moment you looked at him with that stubborn intent and purpose. 

There was a strong urge to push him away but you fought through it. 

“I am sure your husband is already searching for his brazen little vixen,” Aegon watched as you breathed heavily, your chest heaving and your soft breasts pressing against the tightly laced corset of your dress. “And I am sure you wish for him to find us. Very cunning of you, I must say.” 

His touch didn’t pull that feeling from you. The feeling of Aemond’s touch that had made you feel as if you were floating in lava and drowning in a molten heat that could only be quelled by him. But it made your blood rush down, growing sensitive between your thighs at the prospect of pleasuring a man who openly lusted for you and had no care for hiding it. 

Aegon didn’t care for games that shattered your self-worth. He didn’t care to make you feel lesser than a whore for your curiosity of how it felt to have a man tremble from your mouth. All he wanted was to feed his appetite for you–the beautiful Lady who he had envied his brother for having to himself.

“I want to learn how to do it,” you whispered, melting into Aegon’s guidance as he hastily fiddled with the embellishments on his tunic to undo half of it and push the velvet fabric out of the way. The laced belt at his waist was discarded in seconds and you took little time to pull him out of the confines of his breeches. “So I can–so I can show him.”

There was a certain light headed nervousness that you felt when you realised that you don’t actually know how to do what you wished to. It seemed easy enough when you watched how that woman had given Aemond her mouth but now that you were faced with trying it out yourself, you worried how you would fare. Aegon triggered a natural response from you, one that you had learned was instinctual of human bodies, but you just could not find him desirable. 

Momentarily, you doubted you could find it in you to disregard your aversion to the King. An aversion that suddenly became more pressing an issue than it was merely seconds ago.

Aegon must have noticed your apprehension because he guided you forward, the hardened length of his cock brushing against your face. He was breathing heavily when he spoke. “Lick it. Use your tongue first and then-fuck, that’s right-” you hesitantly followed his instructions, dragging the tip of your tongue across the sides of him, gentle flicks down to the base and then a long stripe up to the top. It was an invigorating thrill when you felt him throb against your mouth. His hips jerked when you hesitantly wrapped your lips around him. 

It was slightly uncomfortable but it was not a bad feeling. Aegon tasted musky and salty, and a little bit sweaty. You took a moment to find the best way to stop your teeth from grazing against him and started to move along him, watching as he threw his head back, eyes shut tightly. 

The image of your husband stayed ingrained in your head. Would Aemond taste the same? Would he feel the same on your tongue? Would his cock react to you in such a way? Would you enjoy taking him in your mouth more than whatever this was?

Shamefully or not, you let yourself pretend that Aegon was not the man standing above you. That it was Aemond instead, enjoying what you were keen to give him and praising you for being so eager to taste him. 

You wished so hard that it was Aemond instead, that for a moment, when you gazed upwards it was him looking down at you with his hair falling perfectly and his eyepatch discarded. Alas, it was King Aegon, who revelled in staring at you with an amusement coupled with bliss that only felt belittling. 

It did set your body into a light rush of arousal but you couldn’t stop the doubts that flooded your mind. Were you dishonouring the sanctity of your body out of spite? Were you betraying the man you almost loved just to have a jab at him? Guilty tickles grew in your ribcage but you distracted yourself from it, focusing on the way that Aegon steered your movements. 

“Shit,” he hissed. Aegon’s hand found the back of your head and he adjusted your pace how he preferred. “Use your hand. What doesn’t fit–hold it.”

It became slightly easier once you found your rhythm, following each instruction that Aegon gave, drinking in the way his thigh trembled under your hand that rested against it, holding yourself stable as you hollowed your cheeks. Whatever you did, it almost came naturally and Aegon seemed to be enjoying it far more than you had expected. 

But it quickly became too much–Aegon started thrusting in a way that didn’t match your movements and you gagged, eyes burning at the ache of him hitting the top of your throat. You made a noise, pulling off and gasping for air, whining as he tugged your mouth back to him and chuckling. Lungs burning, you tried to meet whatever pace Aegon was moving at in an attempt to make things more comfortable. 

You reminded yourself of why you were here. The image of Aemond, head thrown back and groans slipping past his lips as he let that woman take him in his mouth. The image of Aemond, head buried between her legs, the skin on his chin glistening as he smirked at you while pleasure another woman. 

The feeling when your courtly acquaintances who you once thought of as friends would slyly belittle you for failing to give your husband an heir, belittling you because word of his infidelity had reached their gossiping mouths, belittling you because the Prince who they loathed you for having was hardly yours after all. The looks that they had given you, the way that they snickered and sneered at your failures as his wife. Whispers you had overheard from Lords alike; that for such a pretty thing, you must have been dreadfully dull in the ways of pleasure if Prince Aemond of all men had resorted to whores. 

That was how they all saw you; a failure. Because it was never a man’s fault but always his wife’s. 

You loathe to think that Aemond harboured the same thoughts. But you would show him how mistaken he was and make him feel what you had felt so that he would regret it all. 

“Fuck-” Aegon let out a drawn out groan as he pushed your head down, pushing himself as far down your throat as he could. You struggled to breath and you gagged twice but let him move you as he pleased, a satisfactory moan vibrating against his sensitive skin when he threw his head back and grumbled about spilling himself down your throat. 

It was a chaotic moment. 

The protest of the kingsguard through the wall and the bang of the door slamming open and you didn’t even need to turn and look. Aemond was seething, barely given the chance to put the pieces together before Aegon simultaneously groaned and laughed, the salty taste of his seed gliding past a sensitive part of your throat and pulling another gag from you as you yanked yourself away from Aegon. 

Everything seemed to pause for a moment. And despite the obnoxious laughter coming from the King as he tucked himself back into his breeches, the heavy breathing of your husband and your gasps for air, everything felt silent. 

Your blood ran hot at the way Aemond looked between you and Aegon. Nonetheless you met his eye, holding your chin up and wiping a bead of Aegon’s peak from your lip. 

It felt good. Watching as Aemond forced himself back into his stoic resolve; only bothering to subdue the way his eye filled with the same betrayal you still felt in your gut at the thought of the whore who had been on her knees for him in an almost identical way. 

Stoicism and slow, simmering, silent rage. 

The air around you turned hot enough to light a candle. Aemond’s presence alone had proven to be enough to send you spiralling from the heat he encased you in whenever he was in the same room but this? You were choking, sick to your stomach and doing your best to keep your knees from buckling at his intensity. 

Aemond heard Aegon ramble out some hideous insult, watched how you frowned at him and heard the echoes of his cackle. But the ringing in his ears overwhelmed it all and he had no clue what his brother had taunted him with before his fist met Aegon’s cheek with a loud crack.

He didn’t bother sparing his brother a second glance. Aemond was stood in front of you and despite his obvious anger, he pulled you up from where you were seated with a gentleness which had your mind reeling. 

There was a threat hidden in his voice. “Come with me. Now.”

Perhaps you had made a mistake. The gentle fury in Aemond was terrifying and even though you knew he would never raise a hand at you the way he thoughtlessly did at Aegon, there were so many ways that a Prince could ruin you. 

You felt a pit of regret now that it was over and the curtain of lust had lifted. It was easy to see how simple it is to get lost in the touch of another but it was easier to see how simple it is to avoid it. 

There was satisfaction. And you felt it simultaneously with the adrenaline of being caught and the doubts of your actions. Princes and Princesses and Kings and Queens were so unaware of their hypocrisy until it was spat back into their faces. 

Aemond would never in a million years have understood what he was doing to you if you had just been a submissive little wife and forgiven him. But now? Now he would know. And now things would be balanced and your desire to hurt him as he had done you has been fulfilled. And now you could see how this marriage would really stand against such tests.

And now, you may finally know whether Aemond truly did not care for you. Because if Aemond did not care for you–or even in part; love you–then he would not be hurt and he would not be feeling such betrayal.

Right now, as Aemond silently walked you towards his chambers, hands fisted, jaw clenched tightly and his gaze fixed ahead, you were fearful of how things would fare. As strong as you wished for your resolve to stay, Aemond’s disappointment was showing you a new weakness. And his words, you knew, if they were used as weapons then you would stand little chance against them. There was a heavy weight against your lower back where his hand sat, pushing you gently so that you glided through the halls faster. 

It wasn’t a long journey back to Aemond’s quarters. But it felt like hours to the Prince, the nausea in his gut silencing him the entire way. He felt like a child again, presented with a pig instead of a dragon, the shrill laughs of his cousins and his brother striking him with flashes of humiliation. 

Again and again and again, Aegon would do whatever he could to see Aemond crumble. Aegon would always take Aemond’s dignity, his honour, his crown. And now he just had to take his wife? 

Aemond shut the doors to his chambers roughly and you were quick to put some distance between the two of you. There was a hollow ball of guilt and fear that caught in your throat but you couldn’t deny the elation at the mixture of emotions in Aemond’s eye as he turned to face you. 

It was a reflection of how you had felt upon finding Aemond in bed with another. He would finally understand. 

Only Aemond was worlds away from the damned arousal you had felt and instead it was replaced with a youthful dread, a panic that you had never seen from him before now. 

There was hardly a moment for you to register the harshness of Aemond’s grip on your bicep as he pulled you toward the bowl that was kept by his bath, filled with clean water and accompanied by a tray of freshening oils. He lightly shoved you toward it as he let you go, unfazed by the sound of shock that you could not hold back. 

“Wash your mouth,” he spat. Although your back was to him, you could feel how he suppressed the extent of his rage as he was ever so good at doing. “And then we will talk.”

You bit your tongue and did as he said, wincing at the ice in his words and the angry strain of his voice. There was a lot that you wanted to say, to scream at him. He was angry–and to some extent he had every right to be–but how could Aemond have expected you to be okay with something that he clearly could not take on the chin?

But the way he had held you, the tone of his voice and the harshness in his glare had you wondering if revenge was worth whatever comes next. Because, amongst the whirlwind of fear and guilt and regret was gratification and fulfilment. 

The prickle of Aemond’s glare had disappeared before you were ready to dry your mouth with a towel. Quiet as ever, he had snuck away and by the time you had realised, the sound of the door shutting and the click of the lock had notified you of his absence. 

Aemond had locked you in. When you had swiftly tried to push the doors open, unaware of where you would go and truthfully not intending to leave in the first place, it didn’t budge. And when you called for the kingsguard who stood at the other side of the door, you went unanswered aside from a curt reply that he had been ordered not to let you leave. 

So you had resigned yourself to sitting atop Aemond’s bed rather than the seating arrangements scattered around the rest of the quarters. It smelled strongly of lavender, leather and Aemond’s very own scent–the one that always had you on the verge of drooling. But it only sent your nerves into overdrive, afraid that the consequences of your vengefulness, no matter how satisfying it was initially, may be too dire to recover from. 

The thought of whatever Aemond had planned for Aegon was not nice. You were correct in assuming that your tryst with Aegon would only cut your husband deeper because it was Aegon. The depth of whatever issues these brothers shared was far beyond you but you had only assumed that all second born princes would be affected in such a way. And Targaryen’s were full of complexities, each believing that they were better than everyone. Even their own siblings. 

Aegon had known that his younger brother would become nothing short of murderous. But he had never been a man to avoid even the slightest of temptations. Both the idea of indulging in you and inflaming the ever unresponsive Aemond were far more than slightly tempting. It would be worth the bloodied nose, the split lip and the sick that he’d spewed over his shoes when Aemond had returned to grace him with an inhumanly strong hit to his balls. Somehow, Aemond had made that act of violence seem like child’s play with the threats that he had rained down upon Aegon. 

King Aegon, who simply did not know when to keep his mouth shut and had all but asked for it with the way he taunted Aemond with a sentence he never had the chance to complete. “Seeing as you cannot satisfy even your own wife-”

He wasn’t there long. Aemond’s angry mind was racing and he couldn’t think past the red of his rage. But Aemond still knew better than to stay where he would surely commit a treason he would regret. 

Whatever fury Aemond had unleashed upon Aegon in the short time he was away had seemed to calm him down. He was still clearly angry when he stepped back into his quarters but there was a far less frightening storm brewing in his eye. 

At his return, you had stood from the bed. The air was sucked right out of the room when Aemond stood right in front of you, so close that you could count the creases in the leather of his eyepatch. There was a tense silence in which he stared at you, waiting for you to fold but you only held your head high and met his gaze stubbornly. 

Minutes had passed before Aemond spoke. His voice was far softer than you had expected and he seemed to have settled down a bit as he dragged his knuckles across your cheek, only to grip your chin so that you could not look away from him. Aemond held you tightly but not tight enough that it hurt.

“Enough of this,” It was an order, stern and unrelenting. “No more. This was a step too far-”

You scoffed in his face. “A step too far? Had you not done the same thing?”

Aemond had never in his life apologised for anything. He never felt sorry. And he never wished to admit to his mistakes. But here he was, face to face with the effects of one of the biggest mistakes he had made. If there were anything he could have done aside from apologise, he would have done it. But it was the only thing that would ease the mess of guilt that had arisen inside of him. For what he had done with the whore and for everything he hadn’t done for your marriage. 

“It was a mistake. If I could undo it, I would,” I’m sorry. “This was childish of you. Vengefulness is unbecoming.”

There was a beastly disgust that Aemond felt when he thought of another man even looking at you. The image of Aegon’s cock in your mouth, his seed leaking from your lips made him want to burn the entire realm to ashes. Aemond’s eye trailed along your jaw, to your neck and then down past your stomach. Did Aegon touch you where only he was to touch you?

Fuck treason. Aemond would feed Aegon to Vhagar if he had indulged in your body. 

“It is more than vengeance. You would not have understood what I felt. How I suffered because of you and your whore,” you tried your best to keep your voice stable. The lump in your throat and the tears that blurred your vision forced you to pull out of Aemond’s grip and turn your back to him. “You promised me you would never do that. You dishonoured me. You insulted me. You hurt me–Aemond, do you have any idea the things that they say about me?”

Aemond frowned and you could not see how he reached for you, only to drop his hand back to his side. “I–”

“That I am a failure. That I am-that I am so repulsive and so dull that you cannot even lay with me to produce an heir,” you couldn’t help the sob that escaped you. “And I saw what she was doing to you, what you were doing to her. I could never even have imagined the existence of such an act that had given you so much pleasure-”

“There was no true pleasure with her.” Aemond mumbled. Pathetically. 

Pathetic was exactly the word. Aemond may have been good with a sword, in a fight, with his dragon and when strategizing wars. But he was a pathetic husband–a pathetic partner, a pathetic lover. And he had the urge to take out his good eye for being so mindless and so ignorant. 

Hindsight was his worst enemy, it seemed. Because in hindsight, Aemond would have done everything differently, right from the moment you were introduced to him.

“Lie. It was clear, Aemond. They are all right, are they not?” You felt him step into you, his warm chest against your back. Leather and lavender and him. “I have failed. My womb is still empty. The last time you visited my bed was moons ago. I know you do not love me, my Prince, but I have love for you. Men are not the only ones who need intimacies of the body–I needed that and you have never given me anything. Yet you gave it to her. I wished to hurt you as you had hurt me.”

There were no words that Aemond could find. So he settled for shaking his head and watching you as you sat yourself down on the edge of his bed, staring down at your hands on your lap. You were so wrong in your perception of him but he couldn’t find the words to explain that. But Aemond decided in that moment that he would show you, one way or another. He hesitated before sitting beside you. 

You couldn’t meet his eye if you tried. It was as if your body was telling you to stop talking, that these thoughts were too painful to share, feelings too abstract and tender to put into words. 

“It is wretched, I know–to have turned to Aegon,” you felt him tense beside you and against your better judgement, you placed a hand on his thigh in an attempt to give him some comfort. “I wished to hurt you but I also wished to learn. I thought maybe if I knew how to-how to do things that would make you feel good so that maybe you would feel for me as I have for you. Aegon said he could show me. It is ridiculous, I understand that now.”

Aemond took your hand in his, the heat of your skin against his was fierce for such an insignificant action. He hated that it was easier for you to turn to Aegon than it was to turn to him. “I could have shown you. I can show you so much more. If only we had been honest with each other from the beginning.”

“I thought you do not want me.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. It would be less painful to drive his own dagger through his heart. “I crave for you, my love. I was just too stubborn to admit it and too afraid of what it means. And I did not know how to show you how badly I burn for you.”

The sight of tears had never fazed him until they were yours. Aemond was not particularly pious, he prayed simply because his mother had raised him to pray, but he would be on his knees every hour of every day if it meant that he could take these feelings away from you. If it meant that he could take it all back and start over. 

“I am sorry. No more of this,” you said. “No more seeking out the touch of anyone else in place of each other.”

“I will be a better husband,” Aemond stated, as if he were telling it to himself as much as he was to you. “I will try for our marriage and our duty. And for you.”

“Your promises haven’t proven to mean much to me. All is not forgiven just because we have talked,” You sighed, but gave him a weak smile, turning to look at him. 

He gazed down at you with determination, his jaw tight and his eye glistening with tears that wouldn’t fall. There was no attempt to push you away when you reached up to take off the leather that covered his bad eye. You wanted to see him as he was, even if only for a moment.

Gods, he was beautiful. 

As you stood you forced your smile to turn lighthearted as you teased him through your heavy hearts. “Jealousy motivates you well, my Prince. I shall remember that.”

Aemond hummed, mostly serious as his hands tightly grabbed your hips. “Do not jest like that. I will not be able to look at Aegon without dreaming of murdering him for defiling you how only I should. I cannot afford such treasonous fantasies.”

There was a silent threat in his words. Nonetheless, you leaned down to his ear, gasping gently at the harshness of his fingers squeezing the flesh of your hips. Just his hands on your body alone set you alight. 

“Perhaps my husband should leave the door to his bedchambers open tonight,” you let out a small laugh at the way that he pulled you to straddle his lap so suddenly, gently nipping the skin of his earlobe. You weren’t quite done messing with him. 

“Is that so?” He smiled and you thought that it made him all the more beautiful. 

“Yes,” you smirked, when he groaned frustratedly at your next words, softly throwing you onto the bed. “I may wish to show you exactly what I have learned.”

[the-ancient-dragons]

Welcome back to Overcomplicating the Pyrrhian Tribes! This week: the beloved RainWings!!

You know what's up. Joy Ang and Tui are so cool and I am just me.

Details and explanation below!

Otherwise, next week are the chilly IceWings! See you then!!!

More overcomplicated dragons.

I knew the RainWings would be really important, and I think they turned out the best of all the ones I've done. I think they're my favourite because they are basically the perfect mix of extra realism spice without altering Joy's design too much. The SkyWing design is awesome and I love it to bits, but it is one of the two that are the farthest from canon.

As for the RainWing.... I had. So. Much. FUN. I heavily used chameleons and snakes - they're basically the two main species on my research board - but there is a dash of cuttlefish and frilled lizard in there. Where, you ask? Well if you look closely, all over the RainWing are little tiny flecks of darker colour. I found a beautiful reference of a close-up on a cuttlefish eye. Its skin is dotted in thousands of little marks and I thought that would be perfect for the RainWing, who can camouflage just as well as them. I don't know if it's been discussed in canon but I bet they could animate their scales more than just colour shifting - cuttlefish are known for using their rapidly shifting patterns to hypnotize prey. RainWings could do it too, sort of like Ka from Disney's 2D animated Jungle Book.

Speaking of Ka - snakes. I love snakes. The head structure of the RainWing here is very smooth and rounded with muscles based on snakes like the python. I was even going to originally draw them in a venom striking pose and got as far as completing the lineart, but ultimately decided it wouldn't fit the calm portraits of the other tribes.

Will you see it in the future? Hell yeah! Pure, unhinged, magical death spit. Looking at it now I might try to alter it to be a full piece of Glory attacking Scarlet or Crocodile.

In the striking pose you can see the frills much better, but I still took my time on this serene pose (this is where the frilled lizard influence comes in). If you notice that I've drawn every scale (every single scale) then, yes, I am insane. If you didn't know that yet, you know it now. You have to draw guide lines and follow them meticulously while you wonder why you don't make a scale brush, and then cry because you know the randomness and imperfections that come from drawing a thousand circles is how it looks natural. The eye area is actually my favourite part, since drawing dragon eyelids was the original inspiration for doing this. Did I mention that? I wanted to draw eyelids.

EYELIDS.

I digress. Besides the eyelids, I like the frills on the action pose, but this pose is where I like the body scales more. When zooming in on my chameleon colour refs, I noticed the very rhythmical distribution of their scales and figured I would give it a try. They actually do have extra large circular scales along their bodies, which is where I guess the canon RainWing design gets it from. Very clever, Joy!

Anyway, on this version, those small circular scales appear on the face. Not only that, but I added a bit of influence from the snouts of my ref chameleons by extending the nose bridges to wrap around the nose horn. They blend in so seamlessly and that's the reason why I love this design - it's subtle, barely there, mostly Joy but a little extra.

Wow, I talk too much. If you're here, thank you! It's not mandatory to read, but very appreciated. I heard once that visitors at an art gallery look at each piece an average of 2-3 seconds. Or was it 3-6? Idk, but it was shockingly short, and ever since then I've tried to encourage myself to pay more respect to other artists and glean their work for little details I skip after that quick glance. I could talk so much more about these designs but that would be like an hour long video, each, lol. If you have questions about anything, ask away!

[lxvebun]

kiss it better!

synopsis: you know better than to try and hide your wounds from them, however small it may be know that they are more than ready to take care of you. Aka jjk boys caring for your injuries

buns notes: I had a part for Gojo and Nanami as well but found myself getting stuck on it. Perhaps they'll come later but for now enjoy Geto and Sukuna♡.

content:Geto/Sukuna x gender neutral reader. fluff/hurt comfort. Soft Defect/cultish!geto (idk what to call it jejjd just canon suguru) canon violence. Blood. Lovesick/soft ish sukuna as always🤭. Not entirely proofread I am sleepy. Eng is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes!!

Suguru

"Did you really think you could hide that from me, my darling?" Suguru coos. His voice deep and honeyed, overly thick and sweet as he tries to swallow down the urge to demand, to interrogate the cause of the gash on the side of your forehead.

It would do you no good to see that side of him, especially in this state you're in. Trying to hide the tiny rivers of blood trickling down your face, droplets sinking into the wooden floors beneath your feet. He doesn't want you to feel a sliver of fear anywhere near him.

And he's good usually at maintaining his composure. Even if his mind is already twisting into something darker and cruel. but God, the thought of someone, whether Human, Sorcerer, or curse hurting you makes him physically sick. The blood pooling in his mouth from biting his tongue does not help either.

"I'm okay, Suguru." you breathe out, a little labored, not necessarily from the dull ache on the side of your head.

You're not afraid of him, could never be, he's good to you and you see how hard he tries. Fragments of a younger, more carefree suguru slipping through at times. But something twists in your gut as the sparkle fades from his eyes and his gaze zeroes in on your injury. You know what goes on in his head. Thoughts as black and dark as spilled ink swallowing up all the light that left unless he pulls back quick enough. It's a venomous spiderweb that's hard to get out of

Fortunately, he does. Your voice luring him back almost like a Siren's whisper, from what's going on inside his head.

It takes him a few seconds to orientate himself. A few deep breaths and fluttering of eyelashes before he can tear his gaze away from the cut and look into your eyes.

Gentle and careful hands slide under your jaw. His tumb wiping away some of the blood. Rough hands still feeling light and safe. As if he were cradling a bird with a broken wing in his hands. 

(it makes you melt a little more into him.)

It's not a deep cut, not deep enough for stitches at least. It may leave a light scar unless he gets someone to heal it for you. Then again, you have refused that option in the past, trying to maintain somewhat of normality in your life

He can't blame you for that, but he's also not sure what to do..

"Tell me what you need, my darling." It comes out a little desperate

(As if he might succumb if you don't tell him what you desire right now)

"Help me clean up," you begin, knowing he wants to be with it every step of the way. To nurse you back to health "and then you can kiss it better for me while we watch some movies, hmm? :)"

He closes his eyes for a second, your head still cradled in his hands, his touch a bit more relaxed, a little less delicate but still comforting. And then he opens them again, a gentle smile playing on his lips, and the sparkle in his eyes reignited.

He's back

(If he notices the way your shoulders relax, he doesn't comment on it.)

"Of course, my love"

Sukuna

You know better than to hide your injuries from him. It would be foolish of you to even attempt to deceive him. You're part of him now, intertwined into his soul. He's mapped out every little detail of you. He picks up on the slightest shifts in your mood and tone. Hears the hitch in your breath if something surprises you, knows exactly how you achieved the seemingly random bruises on your legs and has memorized the healthy beating pattern of your heart. So even before you pushed open the heavy wooden doors to his chambers, he could hear your labored breathing and smell the blood staining your skin..

His voice booms around the chamber, as you finally open the door. It's loud and aggrivated. Shaking the walls. Dripping in venom and laced in a desperation only you'd be able to pick up on as he calls out Uraume's name. The sight of you bloodied and teary eyed is almost enough to make him fall to his knees. You don't know that his heart has molded into the shape of a chapel dedicated to you. Filled with every little detail of you. brimming with gold and laced with utter adoration and devotion. He'll kneel until his spine breaks and his knees crack against the floor below him if you'd just tell him who could possibly dare to do this to you

He lifts you up and carries you to his bed before his knees give out under him. His grip a little too tight, a little too bruising even for those few seconds. Afraid you'd slip right out of his arms if he doesn't hold you close enough. You can basically feel the blood boiling in his veins, turning into rivers of lava under his skin.

He doesn't make eye contact as he gently lays you down on the bed.

(Perhaps because you've always been good at reading him, perhaps because he'll fear what he'll do if he catches sight of anymore blood)

.....

The gash on your side is healing nicely, thank Uraume for their steady hands. Sukuna would have done it, but all his eyes would have focused on would be the blood staining your robes, trickling out of the wound in steady flows and your teary eyes. He wouldn't have been able to keep his touch delicate enough to heal you properly. Too engrossed in the thoughts of punishment and cruelty to keep the violence from bleeding into his touch. He'd never forgive himself if he'd hurt you. Even accidentally.

(He lost control once in the heat of passion. Kissed you a bit to roughly with sharpened teeth. It's nothing compared to what he can do. He is the king of curses after all. God to some, an abomination of nature to most. Still, He filed them down ever since.)

He made sure to stay and watch before he goes out and track down the filth that did this. He trusts Uraume, undoubtely so, but he wants to see Your wounds disappear and the blood wash off of your skin with his own eyes

Healing someone with a curse technique feels similar to getting stitches as the skin gets closed back together. He knows it's normal but Hells, every flinch, every little twitch you make as the skin heals make his hands itch to dig into the chest of whoever did this to you, ears already ringing at the begs and pleas for mercy and he personally deals with the parasite that dared to put their hands on someone even the king of curses himself bows down to.

How incredibly foolish of them.

"Well, that should be it" Uraume's voice snaps him out of his trance. He watches as they bow down to you, even after many many times of you telling them they don't have to and turn to him. "I'll go get some clean robes" bowing down once more, and leave the chambers.

The room falls silent again. He's becoming a little restless. Eyes trailing over your form before glancing at the door, going back and forth between you. Trying to decide what his next move should be

"Stay, please". You whisper. The adrenaline gone from your body

You make up his mind for him.

He's on you the second those words left your lips. His anger leaving him...for now. He keeps it at the back of his mind. Your wishes are more important than seeking revenge. Revenge can wait. You don't have to

He asks you how you're feeling as he wraps his arms around you, cradling your head to his chest as he lays down on the bed next to you. You make the mistake of being truthful

"Its a little sore-"

he's up again before you can even finish your sentence, ignoring the whine falling from your lips as he removes his arms from around you

"There should be some freshly gathered herbs in the kitchen today" he begins as lines it to the door

"Sukuna-"

"I can concoct something that should dull the soreness in a heartbeat-" his hand already on the door handle

"Ryomen."

He stops abruptly. Turning to look at you over his shoulder. Keeping his hand against the door. Waiting for you to finish your sentence

"I don't want a herbal concotion"

His brows furrow together, surprisingly cute for a being like him. He turns to you fully, slowly pacing back to the bed

"What is it that you desire then, my love?"

He almost sounds nervous, eyes wide and eager to hear of your demands so he can fullfill them. "Is there another potion you'd like, do you-" he begins to ramble again. You cut him off

"I think a kiss would be sufficient enough actually, my lord~♡"

His words die in his throat. Worry melting into a more stoic expression as he looks at you with what you can only describe as 'are you serious' Your laugh at the shift in his expression, gods that beautiful angelic sound, quickly breaks his into a gentle smile. Heart calming down.

"If thats what you need who am I to refuse?"

You look more than content, a state he wants to keep you in forever, as he leans over you on the bed. Matress bending under his weight as he places one hand next to your head, the other slowly cuping your face as he dips down to lock your lips with his

(He could kiss you forever, if you'd let him)

"Better?"

He doesn't bother to pull away, instead choosing to speak against your lips. Eyes soft and breath hot against you.

"I think I need a higher dosage actually~♡"

RAAAA thank you for reading angels!!♡

[strawberrymilkyumyum]

i dont like the take that zutara is the like 'sexual' ship or something. not only bc im really uncomfortable with thinking that any relationship with teens is 'sexual' on screen - i really don't want to think about teenage characters in a kids show as sexual - but also because i feel like this perception of katara feels very madonna-whoreish

with a@ng, katara is the madonna, she needs to be perfect and pure. she can do no wrong and is held to an unrealistic standard that puts her under a lot of pressure. this results in katara's canonical traits and moments that don't fit this narrative being seen as monstrous, or even ooc. the problems with the madonna are the fact that by viewing katara like this, you won't ever see her as a character fully. she revolves around this idea of what she is to a@ng, and anything that strays from it is 'morally wrong' (it's not.)

according to antis, with zuko, katara is the whore. zutara explores a darker 'more sexual' side of katara that is connected to the canon moments that don't allign with a@ng. they are able to push all of the things they don't like about katara (and women) onto this ship of her with someone who is not a@ng. to them, katara's proximity to aang is what makes her the madonna, but with zuko, she is everything that they hate about her.

in all actuality, there is nothing inherently sexual about zutara. they don't have any moments that could even hint to sex when other couples in the show do. zutara is seen as sexual, not because there's anything actually sexual about the ship, but because they see katara without a@ng as a whore (not actually saying they call her a whore.) they feel more free to hate on her and allow themselves to call it sexual as a way to justify it. zutara isn't any more sexual than any other ship, less in some cases, but it will always been seen as such because antis see katara as a madonna with a@ng and a whore with zuko.

(i would just like to clarify that this is talking about generalizations. obviously not everyone who dislikes zutara feels like this, but i think this i a common way that people view it, even if they don't realize it.)

[steddieas-shegoes]

my body is my weapon

for @steddieholidaydrabbles popup event for 'spring'

rated t | 734 words | cw: canon-typical violence, mild blood | tags: self-sacrificing steve, hurt/comfort, getting together

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩

Steve was good at this, springing up from nowhere, nail bat in hand, ready to protect his found family. It was a natural instinct at this point.

Didn't matter the cost, didn't matter if he was the only one willing. If Vecna wanted to take someone, he could take him.

With Eddie barely recovered from his first bout in the Upside Down, Max still in a coma, and Lucas being glued to her side to make sure nothing happened, the crew was a little short staffed.

But Steve would make sure that didn't matter.

They prepared as much as they could, which wasn't nearly as much as they should. Vecna was strong, stronger than they expected him to be, and his creatures were wearing them down before he even came to fight.

But El was stronger.

As Steve lay on the ground, bleeding more than he ever had before, certain of his life being over, he thought about every time he'd put himself in front of the kids.

He had no regrets, but he wished it could've played out differently.

Hands on his shoulders made him open his eyes, but his vision was blurry and his head was pounding. Probably another concussion.

"You don't get to die."

Eddie? How was he- why was he here? He was supposed to stay topside to call for help the moment he was signaled.

Maybe Steve was delusional in his last moments. Eddie mentioned that he was hallucinating from the blood loss when it happened to him.

"Steve. Keep your eyes on me," Eddie's voice was panicked. "God, you always have to spring into action, huh? Can't wait ten seconds for someone to help."

"Ed."

Steve could make out the outline of his head, but not details.

"'S what 'm good for."

"That's bullshit."

And then everything went black.

Steve's only thought was that he wished the last things he heard weren't those words.

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩

His head was pounding again, and the incessant beeping surrounding him wasn't helping.

"If it hurts, don't open your eyes."

The voice sounded an awful lot like Eddie.

"Mm. Thirsty," Steve whispered.

"I got you," Eddie's hand was on the back of his head, gently lifting, while the other must have been holding a cup of room temperature water to his lips. "Little sips."

Steve didn't think much of what was going on. If this was the afterlife, at least he had someone taking care of him.

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩

The next time Steve was conscious, his head wasn't pounding and he could tell the room around him was dark.

He opened his eyes, slowly taking in the hospital room.

Eddie was asleep in the chair next to his bed.

He looked uncomfortable.

Steve tried to shift onto his side, but a lightning bolt of pain shot from his shoulder to his knee, and he couldn't quite contain the gasp he let out.

Eddie's eyes shot open as he stood from the chair, leaning over Steve to see what hurt.

"Shit, are you okay?" Eddie asked as his hands hovered over Steve's heavily wrapped up body.

"Mhm. Jus' hurt," Steve managed to say, his voice raspy. "How?"

"How long have you been out?" Eddie waited for Steve's nod to continue. "First bit was about three days, then you woke up for a minute yesterday."

"Alive?"

"Yeah," Eddie's tone shifted to something more serious, darker. "But no thanks to you. You're good for a lot more than standing in front of monsters, Stevie. You know that, right?"

Steve shrugged one shoulder. "Kinda."

Eddie's hands gently cupped his face, eyes softening as Steve focused on him.

"You're more than a weapon. You're more than an expendable body. You understand me?" Eddie's voice shook as Steve gave a short nod. "You're my world. I can't see my world end."

"I am?"

"Despite my best efforts of trying to move on from the stupid crush I had on you, yeah," Eddie sighed. "Nursed me back to health and made me fall in love with you."

"Not bullshit?" Steve's eyes felt heavy, but he had to fight it, had to have this talk with Eddie before he passed out again.

"Never. You're everything, Steve Harrington. And when you can keep your eyes open for more than two minutes, I'm gonna kiss you so hard it bruises."

Steve smiled as his eyes closed.

Eddie's hands carried him out of hell and into forever.

[thestarstoasun]

Possibly a hot take, but I think the Tartarus trip actually helped Will a lot. Obviously I have my disappointments with the book, but we do not only see Nico healing from the copious amount of trauma Rick fit into him; we get to see Will come to terms with darker parts of himself.

It's canon/very heavily implied (I can't remember and don't feel like looking it up) he came to camp at a very young age, younger than campers that aren't deemed "powerful" or have a strong scent. Despite Will thinking he isn't strong, he is the best healer Camp Half Blood has seen in, what we can assume, at least a century. He's a year-rounder, so he hasn't experienced life on the outside in years. Hell, until Trials of Apollo, his godly parent hardly took notice of him.

His older brothers and other siblings were his biggest supporters and motivators. They looked out for him and took care of him in place of a parent, specifically the older kids (Lee and Michael.) And he lost them during the Dark Prophecy - less than 2 years apart from each other. He didn't even get to search for Michael because Percy took him for a joyride across Manhattan on a motorcycle to help Annabeth.

Even after all of that, its implied/seen that he's someone who is always looking on the bright side of things, never making anything about himself, always helping others, etc. He's a ray of sunshine in everyone's life, never allowing himself to show anyone that he's hurting or suffering because he feels like he just can't. After all, he's Will Solace. He is the head medic, the infirmary can't just stop running. He's the counselor for cabin, his siblings need him to be strong.

He represses his negative emotions, even admits to it in Trials of Apollo. I think he represses them to a point he can avoid/ignore them or pretend they aren't his. It's easier to be a ray of sunshine in people's lives if the negativity and darkness you feel are projected onto someone else.

These tendencies are also something that causes strain in Nico and Will's relationship, because Nico doesn't understand how Will can't see how hypocritical he is. When in reality, Will does know, but it's easier if he avoids it. Ignorance is bliss after all. This doesn't mean Will doesn't work on trying to let Nico in, because he does, sort of.

On bad days, the days when he wakes up and wants nothing more than to curl up in the arms of his older brothers, he would go to Nico's cabin. However, his only explanation would ever be, "im tired." It frustrated him just as much as it upset Nico. He wasn't even sure if his boyfriend could tell. (Nico could, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.)

In Persephone's garden, he was forced to face the fact that there is darkness/negativity/hurt inside of him. He can't deny it when it's right in front of him, so he finally has to stop repressing everything, stop running away, and face his pains.

[honeycreammilkshake]

at first you couldn't stand the idea of an afterlife with him...

but now you want to live the rest of your life with him?

seriously though.

yuuji went from hating him on sight to wanting to take him home with him. and honestly, i can't stop thinking about that.

the time yuuji spent with sukuna showed him there was much more to the monster than he first believed..... the fact that this whole story began with yuuji wanting to consume all 20 fingers so he could kill sukuna but ending with him wanting sukuna to come back to him so they could become one again..... and no, i don't care what anyone else says, it's canon that yuuji genuinely wanted for them to coexist with each other.

also. i just want to point out how full-circle they've become. sukuna screaming "your future is mine, brat!" at the beginning but dying in the end when yuuji offers (not surrenders, not gives in, but truly offers) that future to him. yuuji is willing to give sukuna his heart, soul, and body in the most compassionate, honest sense. it's such a display of kindness and warmth, such softness as yuuji cradles sukuna's remains, that sukuna probably couldn't take it.

i think it was more or less a split-second decision for him. and he chose to die as he was born: a curse.

i could be wrong but it seems to me like yuuji was breaking sukuna's resolve over the last few chapters, especially chapter 265, which focuses a lot on yuuji's empathy for sukuna... and also sukuna's mask starting to slip and reveal more of his contradicting nature.

i can't get over this scene. yuuji wants to talk to sukuna. he asks sukuna to indulge him. and sukuna does.

this entire chapter sukuna is uncharacteristically willing to go along with it. he's listening to yuuji the entire time because he responds to what yuuji is saying even when it's over such small things. and even his insults are for more subdued and strangely sound more affectionate/light-hearted compared to the stuff sukuna is usually spitting out.

i've said it before and i still think it's canon that yuuji has had the most power and influence over sukuna.

sukuna doesn't fight with anyone as closely or possessively as he does with yuuji (he treated todo like an unwelcome third wheel after todo crashed sukuita's violent little date entered the fight). sukuna isn't as moved as he is with others when yuuji challenged his ideals. no, he literally stopped mid-fight to wonder why the brat had such an overwhelming effect on him. he wanted to crush yuuji's ideal apart because they started to make him doubt himself as well.

yuuji gets under sukuna's skin and stays there like a thorn. like the parasite sukuna was supposed to be inside of yuuji. but the brat is now sukuna's own curse.

and i think he knew that if he'd accepted yuuji's offer, that curse would kill him. love is the worst curse of all.

sukuna knows his own nature. he's selfish and evil and cruel. yuuji embodies the opposite of all those qualities: he is the shades of love and hate that are far away from sukuna's mask of indifference. they could coexist but overtime sukuna's persona would begin to erode because yuuji has the most power of anyone else to change him. to make him rethink. and he can't have that. he needs to remain the static cruelty he was made into. he doesn't know any other way and he'd fall apart if yuuji showed him another fate.

it's really tragic when you realize yuuji's soul has been tied to sukuna's for so long. and in a sense, yuuji completes sukuna. he is kind of like the embodiment of the humanity and empathy that was probably forced out of sukuna. he's the missing whole that makes sukuna's whole a matching set. like yin and yang, the opposites that complement each other and cannot be separated.

in both a poetical and literal sense, yuuji was made for sukuna. he understands that they're like reflections of each other, one brighter and one darker. and yuuji still accepted and was willing to bear sukuna's monstrosity. because he saw him. studied him, even. loved him in the most selfless sense of the word.

it's so tragic.... i hate them.

[gladiatorcunt]

I want to be non conned by Anakin ☹️

the first time i saw this ask, i was eating chicken nuggets (safe food moment) and was like "damn me too 😔." (obvious tw non con, choking, canon sw universe ani, delusional and obsessive behavior, forced pregnancy/baby trapping, reader has a pussy, use of the word “wife” in a gender roles way and “pillow princess”)

anakin can do nearly every variation and flavor of non con imo, his canon character allows for a lot of flexibility in that area. there's the soft and sweet gentle non con where he's smoothing his hands up and down your back as his thrusts bury you in the sheets. he's not crying, just a little teary because it feels so good and maybe you'll finally listen to him about how the two of you are meant to be together. that's very aotc anakin coded to me, not that rots!anakin couldn't do it like that in the right circumstances (and how you behave and react to certain situations).

for example in the beginning of aotc, and you're another padawan who's formed an unnatural bond with ani over the years. he's anxious to be knighted and you can tell that his mood is dampening more and more every day. all he says is that he has trouble sleeping, nightmares and obi-wans' karking loud snoring. you giggle and fall for the misdirection, tugging him over to the sparring mat. the next time you meet, you hear more about padmé and their history. he's being assigned to protect her so he can't be your training partner for the time being.

it's noble, of course, it's unbecoming of a jedi to be anything other than happy to see anakin follow the path you always knew he could. he has a light in his eyes you haven't seen in weeks and you attribute that to a person rather than considering the possibility that he's happy because he finally has a purpose. but you're 20 years old, being a (hopefully) future jedi master doesn't grant you any extra wisdom when it comes to love. you don't think much of pulling away, ani is going to have his hands full (of what you refuse to think further on) and you should start sorting out your priorities.

you've just made the biggest mistake of your life. outside the room where the senator is peacefully slumbering away, anakin can't stop overthinking and wondering what he did wrong. why haven't you been answering his messages, he's told you so many times that he could fix your holopad for you. he's so deep in thought that he barely makes it in time to terminate the insects deployed to poison padmé and chase after the assassin. he doesn't know that this time apart has allowed you to have an epiphany, and that you'll be gone by the time he comes back from naboo. perhaps there was more to the galaxy than being a jedi.

he tracks you down after his mother dies, feeling adrift without you and high off the adrenaline of indulging the darker parts of his soul. he wouldn't even have known you were leaving had it not been for a concerned message from obi-wan. you didn't even leave coruscant, you wandered down into the lower levels like you were waiting to die. well you don't get to do that without him, so he pins you down on the sorry excuse for a bed you've bought yourself and tells you that this must be what it feels like to make love. your tears mingle as you kiss slowly and flames lick at his back as you drag your hands down his flesh. he murmurs that it's okay, he can't lose you too and he knows just what to do, plenty of couples in the galaxy settle down young. he'd never abandon you, to leave behind what he has allowed to grow into his skin like an abscess is aberrant to the core of anakin's very being.

your pussy parts like the petals of a flower as he pushes his leaky cock into you, and it's so beautiful with his cum seeping out that he knows the force incarnate is between your thighs. you're still sniffling, and your nipples feel bitten to shreds, and that's alright. marriage day jitters are normal, he can only imagine how much more you'll glow when you have a piece or two of the force's son growing in your womb. he blushes and stammers when he asks you to keep his cum in and not touch yourself while he's gone, excited at the prospect of playing husband and wife until the mission is over and you can have a real wedding.

you tell yourself that you hated what your best friend did to you, but you keep your hand away from your begging cunt and smother yourself with the spare cloak he left behind. in a way, desire pools in your gut at the thought that you have to be forced to come out of your shell. you know anakin has grown up too hungry to hate fighting for his meal, and he has done enough proving himself. the flecks of blood matting the hair at the nape of his neck flashes through your mind as you grind your hips up against nothing. his movements were awkward at the first, but his sheer determination and passion had your brain leaking out of your ears by the end.

you remember feeling his dick twitch when you tensed, and he thought that you would attempt to fight but you only moaned and kept his head tucked away in the crook of your shoulder. the force radiated of embarrassed satisfaction that grew more confident with every squeak and groan. he liked seeing the fight drain out of your eyes more than the idea of you actually following through on it. your soresu never quite matched up to his anyway.

then there's the harder version. you resist more in whatever scenario and you delude yourself into thinking that anakin is the kind of dog that would throw away the bone he's chomping down on when he's bored of it. he manhandles you and tosses you around the room, shoving his cock up to the hilt and snarling at you to know who is doing this to you and love him anyway. your snot slides down the wall and your face is smushed against the peeling paint, blood drips down his length when he pulls out and he actually pouts in disappointment when he misses a few drops as he scoops it up with his fingers and takes them into his mouth. you're dizzy as he chokes you, your head spins when he spanks you while forcing you to ride his face. you will stare down the lightsaber handle of his devotion and push the button without hesitation.

you'd likely end up pregnant and waiting on your jedi husband to fall from one pedestal after the other. but the one reserved for the man of the house is guarded by you and your children, he bends over the gilded railing and kisses the breath out of your lungs. even when that pedestal drips with tar and becomes an ominous throne. this is a story that happened so long ago after all, nothing can be done to alter events that have already come to pass.

BUT ANYWAY, his prosthetic arm would also be a big focus in non con. no matter how hard he's ruining you or beating your body up, there will always be undeniable and inevitable love in it for anakin. punishments involving impact are dulled down and reduced to only his flesh hand. even in the gentler non con situations, he's so careful and aware of where his mechanical arm is at all times and what it's doing. there is no bruise he wants to give you when you did not deserve them, he offers it as a cooling balm of sorts to your heated skin in the aftermath. he likes to watch you lather the metal digits in spit as you suckle while you come down from your forced high, sometimes he swears he can feel the ridges of your tongue slide along the smooth surface.

he's so in love.

even with non con, i actually don't see anakin being all that verbal right after he cums. he'll have to calm down a bit before he can start speaking. but he'll silently nuzzle you and caress the spots on your body you wouldn't really think about, like the side of your sore tit and right on the plush flesh above your left hip bone. very touch you know and if you're able to pick up on it i imagine he would send out calming energy and just pure love into the force. but it's so intense you think you can see the smoke vapors rising up from your skin. visions of the future are shared between you, as well as eventual whispered promises of you being the crown jewel of his new empire. imagine the elaborate nurseries, putting the children to bed and then getting countless orgasms as thanks for being the best wife and parent in the galaxy. but he's sure to remind you that no one would ever love you more than anakin, even your children.

and i don't see him dipping into non con somno much other than the initial tease to your wet cunt and inserting his hard cock into your hole. the slow creep into your room, the creak of your bed as he settles his weight down, the soft woosh of the blanket being pulled off your gorgeous body. he'd want you to wake up and thrash around for a few seconds before giving in to how good he knows he's making you feel. because he knows perfectly well he could send out suggestions into the force that you put you deeply asleep and without chance of ever waking up until he wants you to. but your genuine reactions are so cute, playing with his soulmate is only fun if you can actively participate.

whether that be by crying or humping him desperately or clawing trenches down his back or riding him on the rare occasion your hormones have overpowered your pillow princess tendencies.

also this isn't non con related but in terms of love languages: other than physical touch, i think words of affirmation is a big one for him. actually being verbally reassured and given sweet nothings of his own to tuck away between his robes for him to focus on as he cuts down any threat to your eternal happiness. being told that he is worthy of love and that he's an incredible jedi, i think just being told that you're proud of him and that he hasn't spent years trying to be somebody to someone for nothing. blah blah he internalizes so much that it would help him to be given an opportunity to express those feelings blah etc etc and having you validate him would render his need to be on the council largely useless etc.

(he would unironically kill to be your alpha in an a/b/o setting i fear)

[bogleech]

For me the most disappointing thing about Palworld is the designs being so boring and bland that you'll never have cause to review them. We deserve better from a creature collecting game, especially one making this much money!

Yeah here's the most opinion I can possibly muster on any of them:

DUMUD: it's a big fat shark-like mudskipper and that's a good concept, it just doesn't really have the charm of any Pokemon it shares anything in common with.

WUMPO: resembles the fur-wearing "werewolf" pokemon that got cut from the first or second generation, crossed with Tangrowth. One of the more okay designs because those are two good pokemon.

SIBELYX: this is supposed to be their Gardevoir I guess and I think it's an owl? Or is it a moth? Well it ends up one of the slightly cooler looking ones a little less obviously derivative of specific pokemon. Maybe they were also going for a Dimitrescue knockoff with the hat

CAWGNITO: an alright one because plague doctors just generally look cool. However the simple formula of plague doctor + actual bird would have been far too obvious and underwhelming as a Pokemon. There's no novelty or twist to this.

HANGYU: this is the one that's a ghostly noose canonically used to execute people. It's a funny little send-up of the darker pokemon pokedex entries, though the design is uninspired compared to object-based creatures in Pokemon, Digimon or any other monster franchise I can think of.

LOVANDER: this is one that fucks people, and they possibly borrowed the topography of Salazzle's official model. I want to think they did intend it to be freaky and unwholesome looking with the rubbery goblin hands, but I suspect they intended something actually sexy by furry monsterfucker standards and just weren't good at it. Yes I know that likely does not stop people from being into it anyway.

TEAFANT: I was going to say this is the only pal that looks better than its closest equivalent Pokemon, because they would be Cufant, and I gave Cufant a pretty negative review back in the day.

......But actually, now I kind of like Cufant. A lot, come to think of it! Teafant is cute and competent in the most paint-by-numbers possible way. It's what almost anyone would draw in ten seconds if asked to make a cute marketable teacup elephant pokemon. Cufant is an awkward, messy design but it is comparatively cute in a goofy, dorky way that's rare among the Pals, and more importantly, it is unique. I don't think they used AI to generate any Palworld models (the tech isn't there yet) but I can see why people assume they used AI just to get the initial ideas, because it's very easy to find people who have more a more creative eye for character design. I'd say even if not ESPECIALLY people with zero experience in art would have made the Pals look more interesting.

[dxtreza]

⋆｡°✩ nxx-ray; artem, marius, vyn, luke (tot)

⋆ summary: what've they got going on down there? ⋆ xtra: afab mc, nsfw under the cut! first upload, so excited. reqs open in ask box; fandoms are in bio ⋆ wc: 1.7k (includes drabble under artem's hc)

i. artem wing

tbh i think he'd be pretty insecure because mc his canonically his first true experience with romance, concerned about his size even though he knows it's irrational; from hearing what marius gossips about artem probably thinks he's below average. he'll learn through your reassurance that this is not the case. he's literally the goldilocks zone. he's not insanely big, but still above average. i'd say about 5.6 inches and tilts slightly upward (6.0 measuring with the curve), ranges from about 5 to 5.5 inch girth (2.5 inch diameter). tip has a complete ridge, his skin is of a slightly darker shade than the rest of his body. he's pretty too, smooth moisturized skin with a thick vein on the bottom. really really sensitive head and balls- won't admit it but he loves it when you smooth your palm on them. it's reactive, too- his cock jumps and twitches at the slightest bit of arousal. as for hygeine: kempt, but not obsessively so. i don't think he'd have that much body hair, but he likes to keep a bit of a happy trail and a small tuft of hair at the base of his cock.

"artem... what's got you so serious?" you ask quietly, paying attention to the way that his sighs have stopped. his lips have pulled themselves in a tight line, brows furrowed as he nearly scowls off into the distance. at your words he clears his throat, rubbing the small of your back with his thumbs and shaking his head slightly. he seems to have lost his enthusiasm now that you guided him out of the pitch darkness of his study and into the lamplight of his room, awkwardly sliding under the covers. his response comes slowly as he thinks.

"it's fine, just nervous." he says curtly, reaching for the lamp to turn it off. you swat his hand away, grabbing it and making a move with your free hand to cup the bulge in his black briefs. he shudders when he feels your breath on his neck, free hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer as you whisper. "you're absolutely sure? nothing to do with the fact that i can see you now?"

he gulps at this, turning his head away and nodding once. "i... it's just different than your hand in the car, or under the desk in my study. in the regard that i can see that you see me, i mean." there's a shaky undertone to his voice, and the end of his sentence lilts as if there were a question on his tongue. "i'm not sure who you've had before, but i might not be able to compare in some respects."

it's confusing at first- he's big, why would he be thinking this sort of thing? you've held him in both your mouth and hand before, felt the weight of him and the way he can reach the back of your throat. he's not joking by the looks of it, a blush high on his cheeks with his admittance. "can you let me disprove that, baby?" you ask, and he's already reaching for lube from the bedside table. he hesitates for a condom, but remembers you're both clean. artem warms the lube on his hand before rubbing it along your entrance, seething to himself when you pull his cock free from his boxers.

you're already prepped from when he had you on his thigh in the study, but looking at him in the light, you would need to be stretched a bit. he's shaking now as you assess him, mouth pulled taught at the corners and gaze wavering. artem eases a bit when you guide his middle and ring finger to push into you, though he seems puzzled. you sigh when he curls his hand, leaning into his neck to answer his confused gaze. "you're not gonna fit unless we do this."

bit by bit, he's relaxing, and you tap his wrist for him to pull his fingers out of you. he blushes when he brings them up to his mouth, cautiously tasting you and looking towards your eyes for approval. you meet him with a kiss, giving him a few quick pumps before easing his head in. he moans into your mouth at this, eyelashes fluttering as his hands come to rest against your hips.

the more you take him, the more noises spill from him. its intoxicating, breaking him bit by bit as his nails dig into the soft flesh of your sides and trace circles against your spine. you grab his chin, directing his face to look down where you two join. you're nearly seated fully against him, with still half an inch to take. his hips go slightly rigid when you whimper, and then it clicks in his brain that you need help with the rest. any doubt he had quickly falls away when you whine against his cheek, grasping at the sheets under him as he slowly shifts his hips up.

artem can't help but to cry out pathetically when he's fully inside, sheathed snugly just in front of your cervix. the noise spills from his plush lips, breaking at the end when you squeeze slightly. "feel how tight that is baby? you're a perfect fit..." you coo to him, interlacing one of your hands with his and brushing the hair out of his face as you sit up. he shifts with you, sliding against the headboard so he could still press your chest to his while you rode him.

"not gonna... last." he bites out the moment you start to move, enveloping your mouth in a heated kiss. it's unlike the chaste ones you usually receive, this time fueled by some deep desire artem had never previously expressed. he meets your hips with a thrust, causing you to choke on your air and whine into his skin. he's stuttering now, unable to make any coherent phrases other than please and oh my god. it's cute in a way, until he's got you right there with him and you're unable to control the way your head buzzes and your eyelids twitch when he's stimulating you so desperately.

"artem-!" it comes out in a shriek, and in your last moments of coherence you shove your tongue into his mouth and bear down with a tight squeeze around his cock. he groans as his hips stall and buck up one final time, trying to thrust through his orgasm with weak sighs and whimpers. it's not long before he's detaching from you, checking your body for bruises and whining when he has to pull you off of him. it seems he had a lot to give; his cum drips down the inside of your thigh and he grimaces at the sight, feeling guilty for the mess.

you heave, rubbing your head as you come down from the high he gave you so easily. "i've never... you know, that fast." you mumble, and he's already scooping you up to carry you to the bathroom with a worried expression. He looks down when you cup his cheek in your hand, lips parted slightly. "seriously, you're just right, that was the best i've ever had."

it's nearly uncomfortable to say, but worth it when his face turns beet red and he sputters for what to say, sitting you down on the counter and wrapping his arms around you as he breathes a wish to you, one that you're more than happy to grant. "please tell me you'll be the only i ever have."

ii. marius von hagen

knows he's got a good dick. constantly showing you his hands and making it a point that his ring finger is longer than his pointer finger; weird mentality about it, the aforementioned reason artem thinks anything below 6.5 inches is below average- marius seems to think so. almost too big, so much so that it's unrealistic. he's 7.5 inches long and doesn't curve, and a solid 6 inch girth (3 inch diameter). his tip has more of a shallow ridge, and his skin is a few shades darker than the rest of his body. not particularly sensitive unless you press down on his frenulum or very lightly drag your nail where his cock meets his v-line. he's not very veiny, has two prominent ones that branch off. i think marius would also be fairly hygienic, but he has more body hair than artem. he keeps a happy trail as well, and grooms but doesn't really shave that much except to maintain a uniform shape/direction of the hair. he knows it can be a turn off for some people, so just ask and he'll wax everything off.

iii. vyn richter

he's not too privy to what marius loves to spout about himself. doesn't really care for comparison that much; why should he when you're the only one who will see? he can comfortably make you feel good- he doesn't have to split you open to do it. if anything, he's elegant. definitely the most aesthetically pleasing out of all the boys lol. I'd say about 5.4 inches, with a 4.5 inch girth (2.2 inch diameter). extremely veiny, also the most sensitive because of it. they're not very pronounced, just slightly raised off the skin. as for the color, it's the same as his body, with a dusty pink tip; full ridge. i also think he's uncut. also very hygienic. always smells of balm and herbal oil, and routinely shaves clean. he's not too fond of any body hair really, and likely won't grow it out if you ask him. he doesn't care if you have any, though.

iv. luke pearce

another one that doesn't care too much about marius' words, mainly because he thinks that he's joking. slightly below average, but knows how to use it. he's not small by any means, still sizing in at around 4.6 inches. luke has above average girth, though, peaking just below his tip at 5.4 inches. he's curved to the left a little bit, but not enough to notice. a few small veins, but he doesn't have much reaction to you touching them- he's most sensitive when you're giving attention to his slit; just a few seconds is enough to make him practically scream. slightly darker than his body, with a pink tip. hygienic... ish. don't get me wrong, he'll never smell bad or be unclean. he just doesn't pay that much attention to his hair, it's more fun if he gets to watch you do his grooming for him.

[quillpokebiology]

You mentioned a couple of times Bisharp and Gallade pair well, do you have any facts or pic on this crossbreed? :0

Yup! Here is one with a Bisharp father!

Pokemon Crossbreeds: Knight

Knight is the name for members of the Gardevoir line whose father's were members of the Bisharp line. The breed was named after their more armored and knight-like appearance. They've been bred by humans for a long time, as both Bisharp and Gardevoir have been by humans for centuries.

Ralts

Knight Ralts gain larger and sharper horns, a split-colored head that has a slightly metallic texture, and a mark on their chest that resembles a chest-plate. Due to the larger and sharper horn, these ralts are able to pick up on emotions easier, which can be overwhelming for them. These ralts are more defensive and aggressive than standard ralts.

Kirlia

Knight Kirlia no longer have flaps of skin resembling a skirt, instead, having fat wrap around their legs which look like pants. They have broader shoulders, sharper horns, and a darker stomach resembling a chestplate. It still follows the defensiveness and aggression of Bisharp, and they are often seen leading packs of Knight Ralts.

Gardevoir

My personal favorite of this line. Knight Gardevoir gain a sharp horn on their head, a green top, green gloves, and a bit longer hair. Knight Gardevoir have been loved for centuries for their mastery over battle and their more serious and knowing disposition. They lead groups of Knight Ralts and Kirlia. Some ancient kings in Galar had a Knight Gardevoir. Mega Knight Gardevoir gain long hair and longer ears, resembling Kingambit more than regular Knight Gardevoir.

Gallade

Knight Gallade gain the crest of Bisharp, border shoulders, extra blades on their arms, and larger hips. Not much changes behaviour wise, as Gallade are already aggressive and noble pokemon, but many battlers love this breed for their extra blades and extra defense. Mega Knight Gallade gain longer ears and a black cape, resembling the hair of Kingambit.

//My designs can be used by anyone if you credit me! Talking about designs under the cut

I had the idea for this crossbreed but I put it in the back of my mind bcuz there was always something new ig.

Ralts was pretty easy to design. It's hair already looks like a helmet, so I just made it look more like Pawniard's helmet. Was gonna leave the helmet primary colored, but then I went hack and gave it two color to match Pawniard's more.

Kirlia was more difficult bcuz it and Bisharp don't have much in common, so I instead just made it more serious looking and gave it the traits I could; like feet, hands, shoulders, and a chestplate.

I traced an old Gardevoir crossbreed I made bcuz I prefer the one I made over the canon one (for tracing at least. Also, its called Chantelaines Gardevoir!). But my main goal was to make it look a bit like those Warrior queens you see. For both Gardevoir and Gallade, I primarily used Bisharp as inspo because it felt right, but I did put Kingambit in there top (the sword mustache becoming long ears, the triangle shaped shoulders, and the markings on the shoulders).

I gave Mega Gardevoir longer hair to match Kingambit's. I also traced an older piece, which was traced from canon, but I just used it for the small edits I made when I made it.

Gallade was nice, and lowkey inspired by Roman Gladiators. Random fact, but did you know gladiators rarely ever killed? It was like wrestling back then, so it would be expensive to have them die, and extreme violence in Gladiator fights was frowned on. There were some cases where murder in gladiator fights were encouraged, but not as many as you'd think. Anyways! I was so happy to fix Gallade's hip wheel bcuz while Gallade may be one of my fav pokemon and I think the hip wheel is a furled up dress, I can still find it weird.

Not much changes with mega gallade, and I kept the OG color scheme. Though, the cap was hard to color since I kept swapping from blue to green to black. Eventually I decided on black to match with Kingambit's hair since it already didn't have a lot of Kingambit traits.