#so i didnt mention it

[velarisdusk]

I Slept with Someone in Wings of Illyria

A Bat Boys Band AU

word count: 1.5k author's note: i have not been able to stop thinking about bass player az, nor have i been able to shut up about it (exhibits A, B, and C found here lol). i am so taken with bass player azriel that this was originally gonna be a one time thing to get the mf thoughts out of my head, but i may make this a collection of drabbles/one-shots/whatever the fuck. enjoy ! <3 ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

The room is sweltering, the kind of heat that clings to your skin and wraps around your throat. Bodies pressed together, arms raised, the crowd surges with the beat, their cheers deafening as the final notes of the song fade out. 

Cassian tosses his drumsticks in the air, catching them with a grin as he leans back, his chest heaving from the sheer energy of his playing. His skin glistens under the stage lights, sweat dripping down the sharp cut of his jaw to his bare chest. Rhysand steps forward, guitar slung low on his hips, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair, the movement so casual it borders on taunting. 

The three of them are magnetic—untouchable—but your eyes are glued to Azriel. 

The bass still hangs low across his hips, his dark shirt clinging to his chest and arms, every inch of him shining with effort and heat. His hair sticks to his forehead in damp strands, but he doesn’t seem to care. There’s a faint curve to his lips as he looks out at the crowd, their screams refusing to die down even as Rhys steps up to the mic.  It’s Wings of Illyria’s last song of the night, and the air is thick with anticipation.

“Alright, alright,” Rhys says, his voice rich and smooth, but it barely registers over the roar of the audience. He glances back at Az and Cass, shaking his head with a laugh, and you catch the way they all exchange a look—silent, knowing.

Cass twirls a drumstick between his fingers, grinning wide. Rhys throws a wink at the crowd, and Azriel… Azriel holds up a hand, palm out, a subtle watch this gesture that has your stomach flipping. 

And then he steps forward.

The moment his fingers graze the mic stand, the noise dips. He leans in, his lips brushing the mic, and inhales sharply. The sound carries through the speakers, intimate, like he’s right there beside you. The crowd freezes, the energy shifting into something electric, breathless. And then, he chuckles.

It’s low, almost a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine. For a moment, the room is still. And then, chaos. The screams erupt again, louder than before, like every single person in the crowd had been seized by something primal and uncontrollable.

Azriel laughs, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Rhys and Cass. They’re laughing too, Cassian smacking a hand against his drums while Rhys shakes his head, mouthing something you can’t make out. 

But then Az turns back to the mic. 

Your heart stops as he adjusts it slightly, his hand steady, his expression calm but sharp, focused. The moment stretches, and you swear he looks right at you before his lips part, and his voice spills into the venue. 

It’s not Rhys’s voice this time, not the smooth, cocky tone that usually owns the opening of this song. No—this is something darker, rougher, saturated with a raw kind of emotion that makes your knees go weak. You know this part by heart—hell, you’ve screamed it in your car more times than you can count—but hearing Azriel sing it? It’s like hearing it for the first time. 

He owns it, every word dripping with purpose, with heat. His voice snakes through the room, curling around you, pulling you under. The crowd is a blur, the sound of their cheers distant compared to the way your pulse pounds in your ears. 

And Azriel knows it. He’s fully in control, commanding every single person in the room with nothing but his voice and the intensity in his eyes. When he glances over at Rhys and Cass again, they’re grinning like they know exactly what he’s doing—and exactly what it’s doing to everyone in the room. 

You’re breathless by the time he finishes the verse, and when he pulls back from the mic with that faint, wicked smirk, the crowd surges again, screaming louder than ever. 

You scream too, the sound ripping out of you without restraint, caught up in the heat and the pounding bass still thrumming through the room. But then Azriel’s gaze sweeps across the crowd, scanning the sea of faces, and it lands on you. 

Your breath catches. 

It’s brief, a flicker of his hazel eyes locking onto yours, but it’s enough. Enough to leave you wondering if he’s seen you before—if he’s noticed you at every show you’ve managed to get into, always in your usual spot near the edge of the stage, close enough to feel the pulse of the speakers in your chest. 

And then he turns back to the mic, and your chest tightens all over again. 

It’s the way Azriel shifts his stance—shoulders squared, leaning slightly into the mic as his fingers curl around the neck of his bass—that holds you captive. His voice joins Rhys’s in the next verse, a low harmony that wraps around the melody like smoke, rich and addictive. 

When the lyrics take a turn—something dark and suggestive, dripping with innuendo—you swear he looks at you again. His lips curl just so around the words, and the way his hand moves on the fretboard has your pulse racing. 

It’s stupid, you tell yourself. Ridiculous, really, to think that someone like him would single you out of a crowd like this. But as the song builds to its peak, the heat of his gaze feels too intentional to ignore. And then they hit the chorus, when Azriel takes over the melody for one shining moment, he sings a line that makes your cheeks burn, makes your hands curl into fists at your sides. It’s not subtle. It’s meant to be filthy, meant to tease and taunt, and he sings it like it’s directed straight at you. 

The crowd loses it. You barely hear the screams over the pounding of your heart.

He’s still looking at you when the song ends, sweat dripping from his temple as he lets the bass hang low against his hips, his breathing heavy. Cassian slams his drumsticks against the snare one last time, punctuating the end of the set, while Rhysand tosses his guitar pick into the crowd with a lazy smirk. 

Azriel doesn’t move for a moment. He stays there, on the edge of the stage, as if waiting for something. 

And then he winks. 

It’s quick—blink-and-you’ll-miss-it—but you see it. You feel it. 

Your knees go weak, your grip tightening on the barricade to keep yourself steady. By the time you process what just happened, he’s already turning away, laughing at something Cassian said as they disappear backstage. 

The crowd surges again, desperate for an encore, but all you can hear is the pounding of your pulse. 

Your knees are still trembling as the crowd surges around you, voices raised in chants for an encore. You try to breathe, to ground yourself, but the memory of Azriel’s smirk and the weight of his gaze keeps playing on a loop in your mind. 

And then, just as the noise reaches a fever pitch, you see him again. 

Azriel lingers near the side of the stage, his bass slung over his shoulder now, his hand reaching out to clasp the shoulder of a man in a black security shirt. You watch, heart pounding, as they exchange a few quick words, the guard leaning closer to hear him over the din. 

It’s casual—normal, probably—but then Azriel points.

Directly at you. 

You freeze. Your pulse spikes. There’s no way, you think. No way this is happening. 

But it is. His arm extends toward the crowd, his finger cutting through the haze of heat and lights to land right where you’re standing, gripping the barricade for dear life. The security guard nods, glancing in your direction as Azriel leans closer, lips moving again. 

He says two words, slow enough for you to catch even at this distance.

“Blue top.”

Your breath hitches, your gaze darting down to the shirt you’re wearing. Blue. Not just blue—bright blue, standing out against the darker tones of the crowd like a beacon. 

You look back up, your heart slamming in your chest as Azriel straightens, throwing one last glance your way before disappearing offstage. 

For a moment, you just stand there, frozen, every nerve in your body buzzing. Did that really just happen? Your mind races, replaying the movement of his hand, the way his lips had formed those words. Blue top. 

Your gaze darts around, scanning the crowd. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe you’re losing your mind because surely he didn’t mean you. But your stomach flips again as you realize—no one else around you is wearing blue. Not a single person. 

It was you. 

Your fingers tighten on the barricade. He had pointed at you. You’re sure of it. And then you see him. 

The security guard is cutting through the clusters of venue workers. Your breath catches when his eyes land on you, sharp and direct. He doesn’t say a word, just jerks his chin toward the end of the barricade, a silent instruction. 

[kindred-spirit-93]

THIS IS EPIC: The Horse and The Infant & Just a Man

new series lets go!! more here :)

THE BABY SHOULDNT HAVE BEEN THIS CUTE. WHAT THE FUCK. i audibly gasped at the blink and tear [05:48 - 05:52]

"forgive me" made me sob. i am once again reminded of the mind breaking horrors of war and that the toll it takes on the innocent is arguably more than anyone else.

and also just how flawed we are as humans. to do something as heinous as killing a child in the name of the bigger picture or as a sacrifice or to appease the gods. its cruel. so inhumane. yet so human. "the blood on your hands is something you wont lose, all you can choose is whose." devastating because its true. such is the price of war is it not? what is another life in the grand scheme of things?

i wont go into the morality of it all (as much as i would love to lol thats a whole essay for another time), i just mean to say that heroes are often portrayed as those who can do no wrong, who hold themselves to standards we can only dream of, nobility and compassion reign supreme whereas the enemies are ruthless monsters who cant think beyond bloodlust and the greed of war. we forget theyre all humans

now whether this comes down to the text itself or its adaptations over time & modern perceptions is also an essay for another time, the point is that theres always this divide between those who are rightfully righteous and those who are cast into the shadows of evil by default in comparison even before their motives and stories are known.

our first instinct is to side with the light, often forgetting that there is no light without dark, and no darkness without light

again im not reading into anything here, im just re-realising a core and fundamental truth of our human existence; that we are all different shades of grey no matter how much we want to think otherwise. that despite how we choose to view our heroes, they too are deeply flawed, and our enemies are equally human...

before i go: one of the comments said that its interesting hes seeking the forgiveness of his soldiers instead of the infant or the gods. b r u h

[chloesimaginationthings]

Scott Cawthon’s version of FNAF Burntrap..

[gibbearish]

kids who werent raised christian being like "lol baptising children is whack if they tried to do that to me i would start doing things to make it look like i was possessed" no you would not. you would bask in the pride and approval coming from the adults around you and you would quietly wait your turn because you were told from birth that sinning sends you to hell and baptism is The Promise that youre dedicating your life to jesus that youve had hyped up for years and watched other people be fawned over as they cry happy tears about it and you do NOT want to fuck up your One Big True Promise To Love Jesus Forever So You Don't Get Tortured For Eternity when you are literally 8 years old. im begging yall to remember its a thousand times easier to see the church's bullshit for what it is when you're not actively in the church. eight year old you is not thinking about trying to fight back against an oppressive religious group indoctrinating children because You Are The Children Being Indoctrinated. stop acting like you would've magically known better if it were you.

[skunkes]

quick non joke to practice anatomyyyy real quickkkk

[sunn-mechanic]

[ID in alt]

Some Papyruses :]

+ spreading my papyrus can float propaganda.

[breeberrypies]

THEY TOOK VOLTRON OFF NETFLIX.

[umblrspectrum]

hi heres art so you pay attention to me now go read the tags

[abstractfrog]

THE GLORIA SCOTT - part 2, and a follow up to my comic for the first half of this scene! thanks sm to @crashingmeteorz for allowing me to source validation for my whimsical cosmic approach to this moment <3

[remxedmoon]

go my hyucker (human gucker)

ssso my good friend pastell @startagainaprologue mentioned it was struggling with making a human design for the guide and i rubbed my hands together evilly and got to work. aaaaa this was super fun to work on!!!!! thankyou again for letting me draw this graaaa. as always my deranged character design ramblings are below the cut 👍

CHARACTER DESIGN BLAST

most of guide’s colors are slightly shifted to be closer to red and more… desaturated? my default bonnie colors clashed with the palette i usually use for guide so they got changed slightly. i did add the blue on the sash as a reference to my nille design however! and i tend to use cooler colors to represent countries outside of vaugarde, so you could interpret it as a link to the island. if you so desire :3

speaking of the sash, just about everything they’re wearing here is based on another character!! in this case, it’s meant to resemble nille’s waist sash! but with a different pattern. something something only having an imitation of what it lost. the stars are meant to represent siffrin and loop, and also just the universe in general. fun stuff!

i mostly just made their shirt longer for the sake of looking Different from normal bonnie? but combined with the sash it has the fun bonus of having a silhouette similar to siffrin’s cloak. not full intentional but hey! i’ll take it!

the gems on its tail are there to represent odile!! as well as referencing the ka buan tradition of compressing ashes into diamonds. you can draw your own conclusions there! and they go ding ding when it walks :3

the hat/halo isss probably self explanatory? it’s a way to fit guide’s Spiky Head into the design. the halo was added pafter pastell drew buns version of the design auau. i like both! so their hat can be whatever shape you please.

okay! nno more talking about clothes i promise. similar to my ghostlight loop design, i gave it spikier hair!! i have to give sponsors spiky hair to resemble their Spiky Heads. it’s the law. their hair was supposed to be shorter but. i’m pretty sure this is the exact same length i usually draw bonnie’s hair. oops? oh well it looks cute. the stars are honestly just there for fun i didn’t have anything specific in mind

in a similar vein, i changed their eye shape to match the eye shape on guide’s ref! perpetually Sad Looking. on the bright side they aren’t constantly crying anymore!

thheir body is. mostly the same? i decided to make their body Red Tinted for the sake of consistency and i removed the separated limbs aaand. that’s basically it? not much to say! i did add the halo bracelet around their wrist as a callback to the separation though. i didn’t do the same for its shoulder because i am Lazy 🩶

aaand i think that’s everything? well it Isn’t but i think everything else is self explanatory and frankly this is long enough as is. here is the """greyscale""" version as compensation 🩶

[andstuffsketches]

bring the girlies back

[ryssbelle]

Had a silly dream where JD and Floyd came back to the troll tree before the last trollstice but after singing killed their grandma and decided to doodle and expand upon it a bit

Clay never left the tree but was too scared to return to the families pod since he didn’t want things to go back to how they were before, he did try to find his brothers during the escape but got separated by the cave in.

John Dory was the one to find Clay and see him get caught by the cave in, when he came out of the tunnel without Clay and holding his wristband they all just assumed he was dead. Even so JD still searches for Clay with the hope that he might’ve escaped and is alive out there.

They know Bruce is alive but after JD got the post card he assumed Bruce didn’t want to be found

Some more doodles that kind of show their dynamic

Also-

JD always brings home souvenirs for the brothers both as an apology for being gone for so long and also because of this:

[leroibobo]

the church in the coptic monastery of the virgin mary in bethlehem, palestine. this unique church is built inside of a cave tunnel which connects it to the nearby church of the nativity. the holy family is said to have passed through it during their stay in bethlehem. saint helena, who established churches across palestine during her time, is said to have established this one as well. the coptic archbishop of jerusalem purchased this and four nearby homes in the 1950s, establishing the monastery and re-establishing the church. today, the site is maintained by two nuns.

[merverelli]

"you just feel yourself let go."

still thinking about this episode. man. 💪💥

[shalomniscient]

Ahhhhh, imagining general feixiao strenght on bed 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 while on her rut 🤤🤤🤤🤤 please one chance general feixiao 🙏🙏

[nsft utc]

cw. omegaverse

anon i held off on answering this because i wanted to try and wait for more of her leaks to drop but i’m so down horrendous and in heat for this fox woman it’s so crazy i simply can’t stfu anymore. anyway feixiao in rut is a menace, all teeth and a firm grip on whichever part of your body makes it easier for her to pull you back onto her cock.

as a general she’s evidently incredibly strong, also helped by the fact she frequently hits the gym. all that means is that it’s truly no problem for her to lift or manhandle you in any way she likes, be it fucking you midair or against a wall, where she’s the only thing keeping you upright, or on the bed where she’s moving you up and down her cock like you’re her own personal fucktoy. her voice turns lower and all growly in her rut, and her scent grows stronger, sandalwood and spice and earth. she scents you obsessively, always taking your wrists and lightly nipping at them or pressing her own against the column of your neck so your scents can mingle and settle. god, she gets so greedy for you, so needy, her words slurring together as she fucks you with languid, deep strokes that have you pushing up against the bed with each thrust, the corners of the bedsheet coming free. she’s obsessed with the way you squeeze around her so perfectly, so warm and tight and welcoming to the point that some part of her delirious rut-brain doesn’t ever want to leave.

and oh, when she finally knots you… it takes some effort, namely her teeth in the junction of your shoulder and neck, right above the mating bite she gave you. she renews it every rut, fangs sinking into your soft skin, breaking it ever so slightly until she tastes the hint of copper on her tongue. the way you howl in pleasure as she bites, your foggy omega brain delighted at the claim, has her hips stuttering and jumping, a strangled groan rumbling deep in her throat. you slacken reflexively beneath her, and feixiao doesn’t have to look at your face to know your eyes have rolled so far back into your skull that only the whites are visible. with a final roll of her hips she slips her thick knot into you, your lower lips sealing around her base and holding her tight inside your cunt, inner walls squeezing and clamping around her dick until she cums with a low whine, vision going white as she breeds you full. her knot doesn’t go down for hours afterward, keeping both of you joined together.

feixiao doesn’t mind this part either. she actually really likes it, once the both of you have gotten into a more comfortable position. there’s a special sort of intimacy tied to you like this, her cock stuffed deep in your cunt as she holds you against her chest. your breathing is even and deep as you rest lightly on top of her, recovering your energy for the next few rounds that are definitely happening. it’s in these moments in-between that your beloved general is the most affectionate, pressing kisses to your cheeks and nose and lips and anywhere she can reach, really, as she praises you gently for being her darling, perfect mate.

[hinamie]

for @cherryys who (rightfully!) hcs lategame megumi as having a bunch of scars befitting his status as resident punching bag